IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3)
/
O
1.0
I.I
1.25
.5 0 '"^*
2.5
22
^ -- Ilia
1.8
U i 1.6
6"
-«»
V/
/a
/A
9 »v .s...
f
■>/
Hiotographic
Sciences
Corporation
23 WEST MAIN STREET
WEBSTER, N.Y. t4580
(716) 872-4503
v
iV
SJ
\\
%
^.
^
^24
^
^
CIHM/eCMH
Microfiche
Series.
CIHiVI/ICMH Collection de microfiches.
Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut canadten de microreproductions historiques
Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques
The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Features of this copy whi'^h may be bibliographically unique, which may alter any of the images in the reproduction, or which may significantly change the usual method of filming, are checked below.
□ Coloured covers/ Couverture de couleur
□ Covers damaged/ Couverture endommagee
□ Covers restored and/or laminated/ Couverture restaur6e et/ou pellictlde
□ Cover title missing/ Le titrn de couverture manque
D D D D D
D
D
Coloured maps/
Cartes g^ographiques en couleur
Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire)
Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur
Bound with other materia!/ Reli6 avec d'autres documents
Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion along interior margin/
La reliure serree peut causer de I'ombre ou de la distortion le long de la marge intdrieure
Blank leaves added during restoration may appear within the text. Whenever possible, these have been omitted from filming/ II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutdes lors dune restauration apparaissent dans le texte, mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont pas 6X6 filmdes.
Additional comments:/ Commentaires suppldmentaires;
L'tnstitut a microfilm^ le meilleur exempiaire qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details de cet exempiaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dans la mdthode normale de filmage sont indiqu6s ci-dessous.
□ Coloured pages/ Pages de couleur
□ Pages damaged/ Pages endommag^es
□ Pages restored and/or laminated/ Pages restaurdes et/ou pellicul6es
H Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ Pages d6color6es, tachetdes ou piquees
□Pages detached/ Pages dStach^es
C~| Siiowthrough/ )d Transparence
□ Quality of print varies/ Qualite inegale de {'impression
□ Includes supplementary material/ Comprend du matdriel supplementaire
Only edition available/ Seule Edition disponible
Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to ensure the best possible image/ Les pages totalement ou partlellement obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, etc., ont 6t6 film6es 6 nouveau de fagon i obtenir la meilleure image possible.
n
(
H
This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/
Ce document est filmd au taux de reduction indiqu6 ci-ddssous.
|
10X |
14X |
18X |
22X |
26X |
30X |
|||||||||||||||||||
|
y |
■ ^■■■i |
|||||||||||||||||||||||
|
12X 16X |
20X 24X 28X 32X |
ails
du
difier
Line
iage
The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks to the generosity of:
National Library of Caitada
The images appearing here are the best quality possible considering the condition and legibility of the original copy and in keeping with the filming contract specifications.
L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grflce d la g6n6rosit6 de:
BibUothdque nationale du Canada
Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le pli;s grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et de la nettet6 de l'exemplaire fiim6, et en conformity avec les conditions du contrat de filmage.
Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed beginning with the front cover and ending nn the last page with a printed or illustrated imp.-?s- sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All other original copies are filmed beginning on the first page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, and ending on the last page with a printed or illustratctd impression.
The last recorded frame on each microfiche shall contain the symbol — ^- (meaning "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "EWD"). whichever applies.
IVIaps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at diffarent reduction ratios. Those too lorge to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left tc right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method:
Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en papier est imprim6a sont film6s en commenpant par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration. soit par le second plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont filmds en commengant par la premidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte.
Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symLiole ^^^signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbole V signifle "FIN ".
Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film6s d des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour §tre reproduit en un seul clichd, il est film6 d partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n^cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode.
irrata to
pelure, n d
H'
n
32X
|
1 |
2 |
3 |
|
1 |
2 |
3 |
|
4 |
5 |
6 |
^
E JSr D YMI O ]^.
" Quicquld arjuRt hom'mesP
By the Right Honorable THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD, K. G.
AUTHOR OF "lOTHAIR," ETC., ETC.
MONTREAL DAWSON BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
1880.
7 "?
535-^
e ^'^
158272
Ejitered according to Act of Parliament of Canada, in the year 1880, by LoNOXAKS, Gbseh & Co., in the office of the Minlstor of ^Ngriculture.
rRI.NTED BY THE GAZETTE PRINTIXO COMPASY, MONTREAL.
, »;1
ENDYMIOX.
CIIAPTEIl I.
' 1880, by Lilture.
It was a ricli, warm night at the bogi lining of August, wlieii a gentleman enveloped in a cloak, for he was in evening dress, emerged from a club-house at the top of St. James' Street, and <lc>ccnded that celebrated eminence. He had not proceeded more than half-way down the street when, encountering a friend, he stopped with some abruptness.
"I have been looking for you everywhere," he said.
'■'What is it?"
•' We can hardly talk about it here."
''Shall we go to White's?"
" I have just left it, and, between ourselves, I would rather we should be more alone. 'Tis as warm as noon. Let us cross the street and get into St. James' Place. That is always my -^ idea of solitude."
So they crossed the street, and, at the corner of St. James' S Place, met several gentlemen who had just come out of Brookes Club-house. These saluted the companions as they passed, and said, " Capital account from Chiswick — Lord Howard says the chief will be in Downing Street on Monday."
*'It is of Chiswick that I am going to speak to you," said the gentleman in the cloak, putting his arm in that of his com- panion as they walked on. '* What I am about to tell you is known only to three persons, and is the most sacred of secrets. Nothing but our friendship could authorize me to impart it to
}0U."
EKD YMIOX.
[t
*' I hope it is something to your atlvuutage/' said hid coni- piiiiion.
" Nothing of that sort ; it is of yourself that I am thinking. Since our political estrangement, I have never had a contented moment. From Christ Cliurch, until that unhappy i)aralytic stroke, which broke up a government, that had lasted lil'teen years, and might have continued lifteen more, we seemed always to have been working together. That "we should again unite is my dearest wish. A crisis is at hand. I want you to use it to your advantage. Know then, that what they were just say- ing about Chiswick is moons^hine. llis case is hopeless, and it has been communicated to tlic King."
''Hopeless!"
"Rely upon it; it came direct from the Cottage to my friend."
"I thought he had a mission ?" said his companion, with emotion ; "and men with missions do not disai)pcar till they liavc fulfdled them."
" But why did you think so ? How often have I asked you for your grounds for such a conviction ! Th.erc are none. The man of the age is clearly the Duke, the savior of Europe, in the perfection of manhood, and v/ith an iron constitution."
"The salvation of Euro])e is the affair of a past genera- tion," said his companion. "Wo want something else now. The salvation of England .-liould be the subject rather of our present thoughts."
"England ! why when were things more sound? Except the split among our own men, which will be now cured, there is not a cause of disquietude."
"I have much," said his friend.
" You never used to have any, Sidney. What extraordinary revelations can have been made to you during three months of office under a semi-Whig Ministry ? "
" Your taunt is fair, though it pains me. And I confess to 3'ou that when I resolved to follow Cannni;, and join his new allies, I had many a twinge. I was bred in the Tory camp ; the Tories put me in Parliament and gave me office ; I lived with them and liked them ; Ave dined and voted together, and
i
AX OLD ('OXrnOVlJR^Y.
togctlier pas([uiiKi(li'(l our opiJonents. And yet, after f'astlo- rcagir.s death, to whom like yourself I was nuich attached, I had great misgivings as to the position of our party, and tl>o future of tlic country. I tried to drive them from my mind, and at last took refuge in Canning, wlio seemed just the man a])i)ointcd for an age of transition.*'
"But a transition to wliat ?"
"Well, his foreign jjolicy was Liberal."
^•Tlic same as the Duke's ; the same as poor dear Castle- rcagh's. Nothing more unjust than the alTectcd belief that there was any difference between them — a ruse of the AVliigs to foster discord in our ranks. And as for domestic affairs, no one is stouter against Parliamentary Reform, while he is for tlie Church and no surrender, though he may make a harmless speech now and then, as many of us do, in favo'" of the Catho- lic claims."
"Well, we will not now pursue this old controversy, my dear Ferrars, i)articularly if it be true, as you say, that ^Ir. Canning now lies upon his deathbed."
" If ! I tell you at this very moment it may be all over."
*' I am SiUiken to my very center."
" It is doubtless a great blow to you," rejoined Mr. Ferrars, "and I wish to alleviate it. That is why I was looking for you. The King will, of course, send for the Duke, but I can tell you there Avill be a disi)Osition to draw back our friends that left us, at least the younger ones of promise. If you arc awake, there is no reason why you should not retain your office." ♦
"I am not so sure the King will send for the Duke."
"It is certain."
" Well," said his companion musingly, ''it maybe fancy, but I can not resist the feeling that this country, and the world generalh', are on the eve of a great change — and I do not think the Duke is the man for the epoch."
*' I see no reason why there should be any great change ; certainly not in this country," said Mr. Ferrars. "Here we have changed everything that was required. Peel has settled the criminal law, and Iluskisson the currency, and though I am.
i
f;
KXDYMION.
prepared myself still furllier to reduce the duties on forei/^i import:^, no one ciin deny tliiit on tlii.s subject the Government is in advance of jjultiic opinion."
"The whole alTair rests on too contracted a basis/' said his comi)anion. " We are habituated to its exclusiveness, and, no doubt, custom in England is a power ; but let some event sud- denly occur which makes a nation feel or think, and the whole thing might vanish like a dream."
" What can happen ? fSuch affairs as the Luddites do not occur twice in a ceiitury, and as for Spafields riots, they arc impossible now witli iVel's new police. The country is em- ployed and prosperous, and were it not so, the landed interest would always kee]) tilings straight."
*' It is powerful, and has been powerful for a long time ; but there are other interests besides the landed interest now."
'* Well, there is the colonial interest, and the shipping interest," said ^[r. Ferrars, ''and both of them thoroughly with us."
''I was not thinking of them," said his companion. ''It is the increase of poinilation, and of a population not emi)loyed in the cultivation of the soil, and all the consequences of such circumstances, that were passing over my mind."
"Don't you be too doctrinaire, my dear Sidney; you and I arc practical men. AVe must deal with the existing, the urgent ; and there is nothing more i)ressing at this moment than the formation of a new government. What I want is to see you a member of it. "
• "All !" said his companion, with a sigh, "do you really think it so near as that ? "
"Why, what have wc been talking of all this time, my dear Sidney ? Clear your head of all doubt, and, if possible, of all regrets ; wc must deal with facts, and wc must deal with them to-morrow ."
" I still think he had a mission," said Sidney, with a sigh, " if it were only to bring hope to a people."
"Well, I do not see how he could have done anything more," said Mr. Ferrars, "nor do I believe his government would have lasted during the session. However, I must now
^
ZEXOBTA.
any good night, for I must look in at tlie Squiiro. Think well of what I have said, and let me hear from you as soon as you
can.
5J
CHAPTER II.
5»
, ''It
l)loycd such
sigli,
thing
Imcnt
now
Zexouia was the queen of London, of fasliion, and of tlie Tory party. Wlien she was not holding high festivals, or at- tending tlicm, she was always at home to her intimate.-^, and as she deigned hut rarely to honor the assemblies of others with her presence, she was generally at her evening post to receive the initiated. To be her uninvited guest under such circumstances proved at once that you had entered the highej^t circle of the social Paradise.
Zenobia was leaning back on a brilliant sofa, supported by many cushions, and a great personage, gray-headed and blue- ribboned, who was permitted to share the honors of tlic high place, Avas hanging on her animated and inspiring accents. An ambassador, in an armed chair which he had placed some- what before her, while he listened with apparent devotion to the oracle, now and then interposed a remark, polished and occa.-ionally cynical. More remote, some dames of high de- gree Avere surrounded bv a chosen band of rank and fasliion and celebrity ; and now and then was heard a silver laugh, and now and then was breathed a gentle sigh. Servants glided about the suite of summer chambers occasionallv Avitli sherbets and ices, and sometimes a lady entered and saluted Zenobia, and then retreated to the general group, and sometimes a gen- tleman entered and pressed the hand of Zenobia to his lips, and then vanished into air.
*' "What I want you to see," said Zenobia, '•' is that reaction is the laAV of life, and that wc are on the eve of a great reac- tion. Since Lord Castlereagh's death we have had five years of revolution — nothing but change, and every change has been disastrous. Abroad we are in league with all the conspirators of the Continent, and if there were a general war, wc should
■tHi
8
EXUVMIOy.
V'
iKjf have ail ally ; at lioine our trade, I am told, is quite ruined, iind we are deluj^ed witli foreign articles ; while, thanks to Mr. Ilu.skis.son, the country hanks, which cnahled Mr. Pitt to carry on the war, and saved England, arc all hrokcn. There was one thing of which I thought we should always be proud, and that was our laws and their administration ; hut now our most sacred enactments are questioned, and i)eoi)le are told to call out for the reform of our courts of judicature, which used to ho the glory of the land. This can not last. I see, indeed, many signs of national disgust ; i)C0})lc would have borne a great deal from poor Lord Liverpool, for they knew he was a good man, though I always thought a weak one ; but when it was found that this boasted Liberalism only meant letting the Whigs into ofllce, Avho, if they had alv.ays been in oflice, would have made us the slaves of Bonaparte, their eyes were opened. Depend upon it, the reaction has commenced."
** We shall have some trouble with France," .-^aid the am- bassador, " unless there is a change here."
''The Church is weary of the present men," said the great personage. "No one really knows what they are iifter."
"And how can the country be governed without the Church ?" exclaimed Zenobia. "If the country once thinks the Church is in danger, the affair will soon be linished. The King ought to be told what is going on."
"Nothing is going on," said the ambassador ; "but every- body is afraid of something."
"The King's friends should impress upon him never to lose sight of the landed interest," said the great personage.
" How can any government go on without the support of the Church and the land ?" exclaimed Zenobia. "It is quite unnatural."
"That is the mystery," remarked the ambassador. " Here is a government, supported by none of the influences hitherto deemed indispensable, and yet it exists."
"The newspapers support it," said the great personage; ""and the Dissenters, who are trying to bring themselves into notice, and who are said to have some influence in the north- ern counties, and the Whigs, who are in a hole, are willing to
J//?. /TAV.M A'.v.
9
seize the linntl of the ministry i'> lu-lp them out of it; and tlu'H tlicrc is always a number of i>eo])li' who will sujiport any government — and so the tiling work!-."
" Tliey have got a new name fortius hybrid sentiment," paid the ambassador. "They call it public oi)inion.''
" iTow very absurd I '' said Zi'nol)ia ; "a mere nickname. As if there could be any o])ini(>n but that of the Sovereign and the two Houses of Parliament."
" They arc trying to introduce here the continental Liber- alism," said the great pcrsoiuige. ''Now we know what Lib- eralism means on the continent. It means the abolition of ])roperty and religion. Those ideas would not suit this coun- try ; and I often puzzle myself to foresee how they will at- temi)t to apply Liberal opinions here."
"I shall always think," said Zenobia, ''that Lord Liver- pool went much too far, though \ never said so in his time ; for I always uphold my friends.''
''Well, we shall sec what Canning will do about the Test and Corporation Acts," said the great personage. "I under- stand they mean to push him."
"By the by, how is he really?" said the ambassador. *' What are the accounts this afternoon ? "
" Here is a gentleman who will tell us," said Zenobia, as ;Mr. Ferrars entered and saluted her.
" And what is your news from Chiswick ?" she inquired. " They say at Brookes', that he will be at Downing Street on Monday."
" I doubt it," said Zenobia, but with an expression of dis- appointment.
Zenobia invited Mr. Ferrars to join her immediate circle. The great personage and the ambassador were confidentially affable to one whom Zenobia so distinguished. Their conver- sation was in hushed tones, as become the initiated. Even Zenobia seemed subdued, and listened ; and to listen, among her many talents, was perhaps her rarest. Mr. Ferrars was one of her favorites, and Zenobia liked 3'oung men who she thought would become ministers of State.
An Hungarian Princess who had quitted the opera early
!3=B
io
EXDYMION.
iilli
that she might look in at Zcnohia's was now announced. The arrival of this preat lady made a stir. Zcnobia embraced her, and the great parsonage with affectionate homage yielded to her instantly the place of honor, and then soon retreated to the laughing voices in the distance that had already more than once attracted and charmed his ear.
'* Mind ; I see you to-morrow," said Zenobia to Mr. Ferrars as he also withdrew. '* 1 sliall have something to tell you."'
CHAPTER III.
The father of Mr. Ferrars had the reputation of being the son of a once somewhat celebrated statesman, but the only patrimony he inherited from his presumed parent was a clerk- ship in the Treasury, Avhere he found himself drudging at an early age. Nature had endowed him with considerable abili- ties, and peculiarly adapted to the scene of their display. It was difficult to decide which was most remarkable, his shrewd- ness or his capacity of labor. His quickness of perception and mastery of detrils made him in a few years an authority in the office, and a Secretary of the Treasury, who was quite ignorant of details, but who was a good judge of human character, had the sense to appoint Ferrars his private secretary. This happy preferment in time opened the whole official world to one not only singularly qualified for that kind of life, but Avho pos- sessed the peculiar gifts that were then commencing to be much in demand in those circles. We were then entering that era of commercial and financial reform "which had been, if not absolutely occasioned, certainly preciintated, by the revolt of our colonies. Knowledge of finance and acquaintance with tariffs were then rare gifts, and before five years of his private secretaryship had expired, Ferrars was mentioned to Mr. Pitt as the man at the Treasury who could do something that the great minister required. This decided his lot. Mr. Fltt found in Ferrars the instrument he wanted, and appreciating all his
COLLEGE DA YS.
11
. The !ed her, Idccl to atcd to I'e than
Ferrars ou."'
sing the he only a clcrk- n^ at an lie abili- lay. It shrewd- ion and in the gnorant er, had happy one not 10 pos- to be ng that if not jvolt of 3e with private [r. Pitt hat the found all his
qualities placed him in a position -which allonled them full play. The minister returned Ferrars to Parliament, for the Treasury then had boroughs of its own, and the new lUicmber was preferred to an imi)ortant and laborious post. So long as Pitt and CJrcnvillc were in the ascendant, Mr. Ferrars toiled and flouri-shed. lie was exactly the man they liked ; unwearied, vigilant, clear and cold ; with a dash of natural sarcasm devel- oped by a sharp and varied experience. He disappeared from the active world in the latter years of the Liverpool rjign, when a newer generation and more bustling ideas successfully asserted their claims ; but he retired with the solace of a sine- cure, a pension, and a privy-councilorship. The Cabinet he liad never entered, nor dared to hope to enter. It was the privilege of an inner circle even in our then contracted public life. I^ was the dream of Ferrars to revenge in this respect his fate in the person of his son, and only child. He was re- solved that his offspring should enjoy all those advantages of education and breeding and society of which he himself had been deprived. For him was to be reserved a full initiation in those costly ceremonies wliich, under the names of Eton and Cliristchurch, in his time fascinated and dazzled mankind. His son, William Pitt Ferrars, realized even more than his fatlier's hopes. Extremely good-looking, he was gifted with a precocity of talent. He was the marvel of Eton and the hope of Oxford. As a boy, his Latin verses threw enraptured tutors into paroxysms of praise, while debating societies hailed with acclamation clearly another heaven-born minister. He went up to Oxford about the time that the examinations were re- formed and rendered really efficient. This only increased his renown, for the name of Ferrars figured among the earliest double-firsts. Those were days when a crack university repu- tation often Oldened the doors of the House of Commons to a young aspirant ; at least, after a season. But Ferrars had not to wait. His favher, who watched his career with the passion- ate interest with which a Newmarket man watches the develop- ment of some gifted yearling, took care that all the odds should be in his favor in the race of life. An old colleague of the elder Mr. Ferrars, a worthy peer with many boroughs, placed
12
EXDYMIOX.
I
11
n seat at tlic disposal of the youtliful hero, the moment ho was prepared to accept it, and he might be said to have left the University only to enter the House of Commons.
There, if his career had not yet realized the dreams of his youthful admirers, it had at least been one of progress and iin])roken prosperity. His first speech was successful, though florid, but it was on foreign affairs, which permit rhetoric, and in tliose days demanded at least one Virgilian quotation. In tliis latter brancli of oratorical adornment Ferrars was never deficient. Xo young man of tliat time, and scarcely any old one, ventured to address Mr. Speaker without being equipped witii a Latin passage. Ferrars, in this respect, was triply armed. Indeed, when he entered public life, full of hope and })romise, though disciplined to a certain extent by his mathe- matical training, he had read very little more than some Latin writers, some Greek plays, and some treatises of Aristotle. These with a due course of Bampton Lectures and some dip- ping into the "'Quarterly Review," then in its prime, qualified a man in those days, not only for being a member of Parlia- ment, but becoming a candidate for the responsibility of statesmanship. Ferrars made his way ; for two years he was occasionally asked by the minister to speak, and then Lord Castlereagh, who liked young men, made him a Lord of the Treasni}. He was Under-Secretary of Si^ate, and *'very ris- ing," when the death of Lord Liverpool brought about the severance of the Tory party, and Mr. Ferrars, mainly under the advice of Zenobia, resigned his office when Mr. Canning was appointed Minister, and cast in iiis lot with the great des- tiny of the Duke of Wellington.
The elder Ferrars had the reputation of being wealthy. It was supposed that he had enjoyed opportunities of making money, and had availed himself of them, but this was not true. Though a cynic, and with little respect for his fellow crea- tures, Ferrars had a pride in official purity, and when the Gov- ernment was charged with venality and corruption, he would observe, with a dry chuckle, that he had seen a great deal of life, and that for his part he would not much trust any man out of Downing Street. He had been unable to resist the
2IISS CAREY.
n
'J-
crea- e Gov- woultl eal of
temptation of connecting liis life with that of an individual of birtii and rank ; and in a weak moment, perhaps his only one, he had given liis son a step-mother in a still good-looking an. I vorv expensive Viscountess Dowager.
Mr. Ferrars was anxious that his son should make a great alliance, but he was so distracted between prudential considera- tions and his desire that in the veins of his grandchildren there should flow blood of undoubted nobility, that he could never bring to his purpose that clear and concentrated will which was one of the causes of his success in life ; and, in tlie midst of his perplexities, his son unexpectedly sott^led the question himself. Though naturally cold and calculating, AVilliam Fer- rars, like most of us, had a vein of romance in his being, and it asserted itself. There was a Miss Carey, who suddenly be- came the beauty of the season. She was an orphan, and re- puted to be no inconsiderable heiress, and was introduced to tlie world by an aunt who was a duchess, and who meant that her niece should be the same. Everybody talked about them, and they went everywhere — among other places to the House of Commons, where Miss Carey, spying the senators from the old ventilator in the ceiling of St. Stephen's Chapel, dropped in her excitement her opera-glass, which fell at the feet of Mr. Under-Secretary Ferrars. He hr^stoncd to restore it to its beautiful owner, whom iic found accompanied by several of his friends, and he wms not only thanked, but invited to remain with them ; and the next day he called, and he called very often afterward, and mauv other things happened, and at the end of July, the beauty of the season was married not to a Duke, but to a rising man, who Zenobia, who at first disapproved of the match — for Zenobia never liked her male friends to marry — was sure would one day be Prime Minister of England.
Mrs. Ferrars was of the same opinion as Zenobia, for she was ambitious, and the dream was captivating. And Mrs. Ferrars soon gained Zenobia's good graces, for she had many charms, and, though ha";~:.'-- to the multitude, was a first-rate ilatterer. Zenobia liked flattery, and always said she did. Mr. Under-Secretary Ferrars took a mansion in Hill Street, and fvirnished it with befitting splendor. His dinners Avere cele-
^J^ijiiT ■ I in
14
EXDYMIOX.
Lratcd, and ^Irs. Ferrars gave .suppers after tlic opera. The equipages of Mrs. Ferrars were distinguished, and they had a large retinue of servants. They had only tvro children, and they were twins, a brother and a sister, who were brought up like the children of princes. Partly for them, and partly bo- cause a minister should have a Tusculum, the Ferrars soon en- gaged a magnificent villa at "Wimbledon, which had the advan- tage of admirable stables, convenient, as Mrs. Ferrars was fond of horses, and liked the children too, with their fancy ponies, to bo early accustomed to riding. All this occasioned expendi- ture, but old Mr. Ferrars made his son a liberal alloAvance, and young Mrs. Ferrars was an heiress, or the world thought so, which is nearly tlic same, and then, too, young Mr. Ferrars was a rising man, in otTice, and who would always bo in office for the rest of his life ; at least, Zenobia said so, because he was on the right side and t])c Whigs were nowhere, and never would be anywhere, whicli Avas quite right, as they had wished to make us the slaves of Bonaparte.
When the King, after much hesitation, sent for Mr. Can- ning, on the resignation of Lord Liverpool, the Zenobian theory seemed a little at fault, and William Ferrars absolutely out of office had more than one misgiving ; but, after some months of doubt and anxiety, it seemed after all the great lady was right. The unexpected disappearance of Mr. Canning from the scene, followed by the transient and embarrassed phantom of Lord Goderich, seemed to indicate an inexorable destiny that England should be ruled by the most eminent man of the age, and the most illustrious of her citizens. William Ferrars, under the inspiration of Zenobia, had throAvn in his fortunes with the Duke, and after nine months of disquietude found his due reward. In the January that succeeded the August con- versation in St. James' Street with Sidney Wilton, William Ferrars was sworn of the Privy Council, and held high office, on the verge of the Cabinet.
Mr. Ferrars had a dinner party in Hill Street on the day he had returned from Windsor with the seals of his new office. The catastrophe of the Godciich Cabinet, almost on the eve of the meeting of Parliament, had been so sudden that, not an-
SIDNEY WILTOy.
15
. The ^ had a Dii, and ght lip rtly bo-
0011 Cll-
advaii- as fond ponies, xpciidi- icc, and ight so, Ferrars in office 3 he was !r would to make
Ir. Can-
1 theory
y out of
months
ady was
g from
lantom
destiny
of the
Ib'crrars,
ortuncs
und his
ist con-
\Yilliam
1 office,
he day ^ office. 0 eve of not an-
ticipating such a state of alTairs, Ferrars, among his otlicr guests, had invited Sidney Wilton. lie was rather regretting this when, as his carriage st''v<ped at his own door, he observed that very gentleman on his i.. reshold.
"Wilton greeted him warmly, and congratulated him on his promotion. ''I do so at once," he added, ''because I shall not have the opportunity this evening. I was calling here in the hope of seeing Mrs. Ferrars, and asking her to excuse me from being 3'our guest to-day."
'• Well, it is rather awkward," said Ferrars, " but I could liave no idea of this Avhen you were so ivind as to say you would
come
;>
'* Oh, nothing of that sort," said Sidney. *' I am out and you are in, and I hope you may be in for a long, long time. I dare say it may be so, and the Duke is the man of the age, as you always said he was. I hope your being in office is not to deprive me of your pleasant dinners ; it Avould be too bad to lose my place both at Whitehall and in Hill Street."
''I trust that will never happen, my dear fellow; but to- day I thought it might be embarrassing."
''Not at all; I could endure without wincing even the triumphant glance of Zenobia. The fact is, I have some busi- ness of the most pressing nature which has suddenly arisen, and which demands my immediate attention."
Ferrars expressed his regret, though in fact ho was greatly relieved, and they parted.
Zenobia did dine with the William Ferrars to-day, and her handsome husband came with lier, a knight of the garter, and just appointed to a high office in the household by the new government. Even the excitement of the hour did not dis- turb his indigenous repose. It was a dignified serenity, quite natural, and quite compatible with easy and even cordial man- ners, and an address always considerate even when not sym- pathetic. He was not a loud or a long talker, but his terse remarks were full of taste and a just ai)preciation of things. If they were sometimes trenchant, the blade was of fine tem- per. Old Mr. Ferrars was there and the Vicountess Edgware. His hair had become quite silvered, and his cheek rosy as a
,i'
16
EXD YMIOX,
December apple. His hazel eyes twinkled with satisfaction as he remembered the family had now produced two jirivy coun- cilors. Lord Pomeroy was there, the great lord who had re- turned AVilliam Ferrars to Parliament, a little man, quiet, shy, rather insignificant in appearance, but who observed everybody and everything ; a conscientious man, who was always doing good, in silence and secrecy, and denounced as a boroughmon- ger, had never sold a seat in his life, and was always looking out for able men of character to introduce them to public aifairs. It was not a formal party, but had grown up in great degree out of the circumstances of the moment. There were more men than Avomen, and all men in olhce or devoted sujv portcrs of the new ministry.
Mrs. Ferrars, without being a regular beauty, had a volup- tuous face and form. Her complexion was brilliant, with large and long-lashed eyes of blue. Iler mouth was certainly too large, but the pouting richness of her lijis and the splendor of her teeth baffled criticism. She was a woman who was always gorgeously or fantastically attired.
" I never can understand," would sometimes observe Zeno- bia's husband to his brilliant spouse, "how affairs are carried on in this world. Now we have, my dear, fifty thousand per annum ; and I do not see how Ferrars can have much more than five ; and yet he lives much as we do, perhaps better. I know Gibson showed me a horse last week that I very much wanted, but I would not give him two hundred guineas for it. I called there to-day to look after it again, for it Avould have suited me exactly, but I was told I was too lat<^ and it was sold to Mrs. Ferrars."
" My dear, you know I do not understand money matters," Zenobia said in reply. " I never could ; but you should re- member that old Ferrars must be very rich, and that ''tYilliani Ferrars is the most rising man of the day, and is sure to be in the cabinet before he is forty."
Everybody had an appetite for dinner to-day, and the din- ner was worthy of the appetites. Zenobia's husband declared to himself that he never dined so well, though he gave his chef £500 a year, and old Lord Pomeroy. who had not yet admitted
THE TWINS.
17
French wines to his own table, seemed quite abashed with the number of his wine-glasses and their various colors, and, as ho tasted one succulent dish after another, felt a proud satisfaction in having introduced to public life so distinguished a man as William Ferrars.
With the dessert, not without some ceremony, were intro- duced the two most remarkable guests of the entertainment, and these were the twins ; children of singular beauty, and dressed, if possible, more fancifully and brilliantly than their iniimnia. They resembled each other, and liad the same bril- liant complexions, rich chestnut hair, delicately arched brows, and dark blue eyes. Though only eight years of age, a most unchildlike self-possession distinguished tliem. The expression of their countenances was haughty, disdainful, and supercilious. Their beautiful features seemed quite ui. impassioned, and they moved as if they expected everything to yield to them. The girl, whose long ringlets were braided with pearls, was ushered to a scat next to her father, and, like her brother, who was placed by Mrs. Ferrars, was soon engaged in negligently tasting delicacies, while she seemed apparently unconscious of any one being present, except when she replied to those who addressed her with a stare and a hau2;htv monosvllable. The bov, in a black velvet jacket with large Spanish buttons of silver filigree, a shirt of lace, and a waistcoat of white satin, re})Iied with re- servo, but some condescension, to the good-natured but half- liumorous inquiries of the husband of Zenobia.
'* And when do you go to school ?" asked his lordsliip, in a kind voice and witii a laughing eye.
"I shall go to Eton in two years," replied the child, with- out the slightest emotion, and not withdrawing his attention from the grapes he was tasting, or even looking at his inquirer, ''and then I shall go to Christchurch, and then I shall go into Parliament."
'*Myra,"said an intimate of the family, a handsome pri- vate secretary of Mr. Ferrars, to the daughter of the house, as he supplied her plate with some choicest delicacies, '*Ihopo you have not forgotten your engagement to me which you made at Wimbledon two years ago ?"
I
18
ENDYMIOX.
*' Wliiit engagement ? " she luiuglitily inquired.
'• To marry me."
*' I should not think of marrying any one who was not in tlic House of Lords," she replied, and she shot at him a glance of contempt.
The ladies rose. As they were ascending the stairs, one of them said to Mrs. Ferrars, '* Your son's name is very pretty, but it is very uncommon, is it not ? "
'"Tis a family name. The first Carey who bore it was a courtier of Charles the First, and we have never since been without it. "William wanted our boy to be christened Pomc- roy, but I was alwiiys resolved, if I ever had a son, that ho should be named Endymion."
CHAPTER IV.
About the time that the ladies rose from the dinner-table in Hill Street, Mr. Sidney "Wilton entered the hall of the Clar- endon Hotel and murmured an inquiry of the porter. Where- upon a bell was rung, and soon a foreign servant appeared, and bowing invited Mr. "Wilton to ascend the staircase and follow him. Mr. "Wilton was ushered through an ante-chamber into a room of some importance, lofty and decorated, and obviously adapted for distinguished guests. On a principal table a desk was open and many pajoers strcAvn about. Apparently some per- son had only recently been writing there. There were in the room several musical instruments : the piano was open, there was a harp and a guitar. The room was rather dimly lighted, but cheerful from the steady lilaze of the fire, before which Mr. "Wilton stood, not long alone, for an opposite door opened, and a lady advanced leading with her left hand a youth of interest- ing mien and about twelve years of age. The lady Avas fair and singularly thin. It seemed that her delicate hand must really be transparent. Her cheek was sunk, but the expres- sion of her large brown eyes was inexpressibly pleasing. She
FLORESTAN.
19
,Vl,
-tublo Clar- liere- and bllow
cr into
iously
desk
lie per-
iii the tlierc
glited, liMr. [, and
tercst-
s fair
must
spres-
Shc
wore her own hair, once tlie most celebrated in Europe, and still u!icovercd. Tiiough the prodigal richness of the tresses had disappeared, the arrangement was still striking from its grace. That rare cpiality pervaded tlie being of this lady, and it was impossible not to be struck with her carriage as she ad- vanced to greet her guest ; free from all affectation and yet full of movement and gestures, Avhich might have been the study of painters.
"Ah!" she exclaimed, as she gave him her hand, which he pressed to his lips, "you arc ever faithful."
Seating themselves, she continued, "You have not seen my boy since he sat upon your knee. Florestan, salute Mr. Wil- ton, vour mother's most cherished friend. "
"' This is a sudden arrival," said Mr. Wilton.
"'"Well, they would not let us rest," said the lady. " Our only refuge was Switzerland, but I can not breathe among the mountains, and so, after a while, we stole to an obscure corner of the south, and for a time we were tranquil. But soon the old story : representations, remonstrances, warnings, and threats, appeals to Vienna, and lectures from Prince Mctternich, not the lc.«s impressive because they were courteous, and even gallant."
" And had nothing occurred to give a color to such com- plaints, or was it sheer persecution ? "
h* Well, you know," replied the lady, " wo wished to remain (piiet and obscure ; but where the lad is, they will find him out. It often astonishes me. I believe if we were in the cen- ter of a forest in some Indian isle, with no companions but monkeys and elephants, a secret agent would appear — some de- voted victim of our family — prepared to restore our fortunes and renovate his own. I speak the truth to you always. I have never countenanced these people ; I have never encour- aged them ; but it is impossible rudely to reject the sympathy of those who, after all, arc your fellow sufferers, and some of whom have given proof of even disinterested devotion. For my own part, I have never faltered in my faith, that Florestan would some day sit on the throne of his father, dark as appears to be our life ; but I have never much believed that the great result could be occasioned or precipitated by intrigues, but
n
I
:ii
20
END YM FOX.
rather by events more powerful tlian mini, and led on by that fatality in whicli his father ])elieved,"
"And now you think of remaining here ?" said Mr. Wil- ton.
** No," said the lady ; *' that I can not do. I love every- thing in this country except its cliniate and. perhaps, its ho- tels. I think of trying the south of Spain, and fancy, if quite alone, I might vegetate there unnoticed. I C);n not bring my- pelf altogether to quit Europe. I am, my der.r Sidney, intense- ly European. But Spain is not exactly the country I should fix upon to form kings and statesmen. And this is the point on which I wi.slicd to consult you. I want Florestan to receive iin English education, and I want you to put me in the way of accomplishing this. It might be convenient, under such cir- cumstances, that he should not obtrude liis birth — perluips, that it should be concealed. He has many lionorable names besides the one which indicates the state to which he was born. But, on all these points, we want your advice." And she seemed to appeal to her son, who bowed his head with a sb'ght smile, but did not speak.
i\[r. Wilton expressed his deep interest in her wishes, and promised to consider how they might best be accomplished, and then the conversation took a more general tone.
" This change of government in your country," said the lady, *' so unexpected, so utterly unforeseen, disturbs me ; in fact, it decided my hesitating movements. I can not but be- licA'c that the accession of the Duke of Wellington to power must be bad, at least, for us. It is essentially reactionar}-. They arc triumphing at Vienna."
"Have they cause ?" said Mr. Wilton. *'Iam an impar- tial witness, for I have no post in the new administration ; but the leading colleagues of Mr. Canning form part of it, and the conduct of foreign afiviirs remains in the same hands."
"That is consoling," said the lady. "I wonder if Lord Dudley would see me. Perhaps not. Ministers do not love pretenders. I knew him when I was not a pretender," added the lady, with the sweetest of smiles, " and thought him agree- able, lie was witty. Ah ! Sidney, those were happy days. I
^1 I.
MIL WILTOS'S Flill-XDSinr.
21
by that
\h\ Wil-
'0 cvcry- !, its lio-
if quite •ing niy- intensc- I slionld lie point ) receive c way of nicli eir- perhapp, le names as born. \.nd slie
a si'ght
les, and led, and
laid the
me ; in
3ut be-
power
lonarv.
mpar- biit nd liie
n
Lord
3t love
added
agree-
vs. I
look back to the past with regret, but without remorse. One might have done more good, but one did some;" and she sighed.
*• You seemed to me," said Sidney with emotion, '* to dif- fuse benefits and blessings among all around you."
*• And I read," said the lady, a little indigiumt, *•' in some memoirs the other day, that our court was a corrupt and disso- lute court. It was a court of })leasure, if you like ; but of pleasure tliat animated and relincd, and put the world in good Imnior, which, after all, is good government. The most cor- rupt and dissolute courts on the continent of Europe that I have known," said the lady, "have been outwardly the dullest and most decorous."
** My memory of those days," said Mr. WiUon, ** is of ceaseless grace and inexhaustible charm."
*' "Well," said the lady, *'if I sinned I liave at least suffered. And I hope they w^ere only sins of omission. I wanted to see everybody happy, and tried to make them so. But let us talk no more of ourselves. The unfortunate arc always egotistical.. Toll me something of Mr. Wilton ; and, above all, tell me why you are not in the new government."
"I have not been invited," said Mr. Wilton. ''There are more claimants than can be satisfied, and my claims are not very strong. It is scarcely a disappointment to mi , I shall continue in public life ; but, so far as political responsibility is concerned, I would rather wait. I have some fancies on that head, but I will not trouble you with them. My time, there- fore, is at my command ; and so," he added smilingly, " I can attend to the education of Prince Florestan."
'* Do you hear that, Florestan ? " said the lady to her son ; *• I told you we had a friend. Thank Mr. Wilton."
And the young Print, bowed as before, but with a more serious expression. He, however, said nothing.
*'Isee you have not forgotten your most delightful pur- suit," said Mr. Wilton, and he looked toward the musical instruments.
'"No," said the lady; "throned or discrowned, music has ever been the charm or consolation of my life."
*4 aJ
END Y Ml OX.
U
'■ 1
m;
" I'leasurc sliouUl follow business," siiiil Mr. Wilton, "uiid we liavc transacted our.s. Would it be too bold if I asked again to hear those tones which have so often enchanted mc ?"
*' My voice has not fallen ofT," t^aid the lady, "for you know it 'vas never first-rate. But they were kind enough to say it had some expression, ])robably because I generally sang my own words to my own rnusic. I will sing you my farewell to Florestan," she added gayly, and she took up her guitar, and then in tones of melancholy sweetness, breaking at last into a gushing burst of long-controlled affection, she expressed the agony and devotion of a mother's heart. Mr. Wilton was a little agitated ; her son left the room. The mother turned round with a smiling face, and said, ''The darling can not bear to hear it, but I sing it on purpose, to prepare him for the inevitable."
*'IIe is soft-hearted," ^aid Mr. Wilton.
" He is the most affectionate of beings," rci)licd the motlicr. " Affectionate and mysterious. I can say no more. 1 ought to tell you his character. I can not. You may say he may have none. I do not know, lie has abilities, for he acquires knowledge with facility, and knows a great deal for a boy. But he never gives an opinion. He is silent and solitary. Poor darling ! he has rarely had companions, and that may be the cause. He seems to me always to be thinking."
''Well, a public school will rouse him from his reveries," said Mr. Wilton.
''As he is away at this moment, I will say that which I should not care to say before his face," said the lady. " You are about to do mc a great service, not the first ; and before I leave this, we may — we must — meet again more than once, but there is no time like the present. The separation between Florestan and myself may be final. It is sad to think of such things, but they must be thought of, for they are probable. I still look in a mirror, Sidney ; I am not so frightened by what has occurred since we first met, to be afraid of that — but I never deceive myself. I do not know what may be the magical effect of the raisins of Malaga, but if it save my life the grape cure will indeed achieve a miracle. Do not look gloomy.
Adh'll'riXA.
2;5
toil, "and f I asked I ted me?" you know L to say it ■ sang my are well to uitar, and ast into a resscd the ton was a cr turned 5 can not c liini for
ic mother. 1 ought ,y he may c acquires or a boy. ry. Poor ay he the
L'cveries,
J)
which I " You before I )nce, but between of such lable. I by what t— but I magical le grape loomy.
Tlio.-c who have known real grief >«eldom j^eem siid. I have been struggling with sorrow for ten years, but I have got through it with iniLsic and singing, and my boy. Sec now — he will be a source of expense, and it will not do for you to be looking to a woman for sujiplies. Women are generous but not jirecisc in money matters. 1 have some excuse, for tlie world has treated me not very well. I never got my iien.sion regularly ; now I never get it at all. So much for the treaties, l)ut everybody laughs at them. Here is the fortune of Flores- tan, and I wish it all to be spent on his education," and she took a case from her bosom. " They are not the crown jewels though. The memoirs I was reading the other day say I ran away with them. That is false like most things said of me. But these arc gems of Golconda, which I wish you to realize and expend for his service. They were the gift of love, and tliey were worn in love."
'' It is unnecessary," said Mr. Wilton, deprecating the oiler by his attitude.
*'IIush !" said the lady. '" I am still a sovereign to you, and I must be obeyed. "
Mr. Wilton took the case of jewels, pressed it to his lips, and then placed it in the breast pocket of his coat. He was about to retire, when the lady added, ''I must give you this copy of my song."
"And you will write my name on it ?"
"Certainly," replied the lady, as she went to the table and wrote, "For Mr. Sidney Wilton, from Aorippi>'A."
CHAPTER V.
Ix the mean time, power and prosperity clustered round the roof and family of Fcrrars. He himself Avas in the prime of manhood, with an exalted position in the world of politics, and Avith a i^rospect of the highest. The Government of which he was a member was not only deemed strong, but eternal. The
2t
ENDYMIOX.
;U
( it
.*. !
favor of the court and the confidence of the country were alike hivished on it. The government of the Duke coukl only be measured by his life, and his influence was irresistible. It was a dictatorship of patriotism. The country, long accusLomcd to a strong and undisturbed administration, and frightened by the changes and catastrophes which had followed the retire- ment 01 Lord Liverpool, took refuge in the powerful will and splendid reputation of a real hero.
Mrs. Ferrars Avas as ambitious of social distinction as her Juisband was of political power. She was a woman of taste, but of luxurious taste. She had a passion for splendor, which, though ever regulated by a fine perception of the fitness of things, was still costly. Though her mien was in general liaughty, she flattered Zenobia and consummately. Zenobia, who liked handsome people, even handsome women, and per- sons who were dressed beautifully, and delighted her eye by their grace and fine manners, was quite won by Mrs. Ferrars, against Avhom at first she was inclined to be a little prejudiced. There was an entire alliance between them, and though ]\Irs. Fari'ars greatly influenced and almost ruled Zenobia, the wife of the minister was careful always to acknowledge the Queen of Fashion as her suzeraine.
The great world then, compared with the huge society of the present period, was limited in its proportions, and com- posed of elements more refined though far less various. It consisted mainly of the great landed aristocracy, who had quite absorbed the nabobs of India, and had nearly appropriated the liuge West Indian fortunes. Occasionally, an eminent banker or merchant invested a large portion of his accumulations in land, and in the purchase of parliamentary influence, and was in time duly admitted into the sanctuary. But those vast and successful invasions of society by new classes which have t ince occurred, though impending, had not yet commenced, llic manufacturers, the railway kings, the colossal contractors, the discoverers of nuggets, had not yet found their place in society and the senate. There were tlien, perhaps, more great liouses open than at the present day, but there were very few little ones. The necessity of providing regular occasions for
GOOD XEWS.
v'crc alike L only be . It was customed iteiied by he retire-
I will and
)n as her
of taste,
r, which,
fitness of
II general Zen(>bia, and per-
>r eye by . Ferrars, ejudiced. ugh ]\Irs. the wife 10 Queen
ociety of nd com- ious. It lad quite iated the banker ulations ice, and nose vast ch have [lenced. ractors, place in e great ery few ons for
the assembling of the miscellaneous world of fashion led to the institution of Almack's, which died out in the advent of the new system of society, and in the fierce competition of its inex- hau.stible private entertainments.
The season then was brilliant and sustained, but it was not flurried. People did not go to various i)artics on the same night. They remained where they were assembled, and, not being in a hurry, were more agreeable than tliey are at the present day. Conversation was more cultivated ; manners, though unconstrained, were more stately ; and the world, being limited, kncAV itself much better. On the other hand, the sympathies of society were more contracted than they are at present. The pressure of })opulation had not ojiencd the heart of man. The world attended to its poor in its country parishes, and subscribed and danced for the Spitidfields weavers when their normal distress had overflowed, but their knowlcdue of the people did not exceed these bounds, and the people know very little more about themselves. They were only half-born.
The darkest hour precedes the dawn, and a period of un- usual stillness often, perha])? usually, heralds the social con- vulsion. At this moment the general tranquillity and even content were remarkable. In politics the Whigs were quite prepared to extend to the Duke the same provisional confidenco that had been accepted by Mr. Canning, and conciliation began to be an accepted phrase, which meant in practice some share on their part of the good things of the State. The country itself required nothing. There was a general im])ression, in- deed, that they had been advancing at a rather rapid rate, and that it was as well that the reins should be intrusted to a wary driver. Zenobia, who represented society, was enraptured that the career of revolution had been staved. She still mourned over the concession of the Manchester and Liverpool railway in a moment of Liberal infatuation, but flattered herself that any extension of the railway system might certainly be arrested, and on this head the majority of society, perhaps even of tho country, was certainly on her side.
"\ have some good news for you," said one of her youn;^ favorites as he attended her reception. " We have prevented
{
1 '
26
EXDYMIOX.
tliis morning the ligliting of Grosvenor Sf{nare ly gas by a large majority."
"I felt confident that disgrace Avoiild never occur," said Zcnouia, triumpliant. '' And by a hirge majority! I wonder how Lord Pomeroy voted."
'''Against us."
''How can one save this country?" exclaimed Zenobia. "I believe now the story that he has ordered Lady Pomeroy not to go to the Drawing Room in a sedan chair."
One bright May morning in the spring that followed the formation of the government that was to last for ever, Mrs. Ferrars received the world at a fanciful entertainment in the beautiful grounds of her Wimbledon villa. The day was genial, the scene was flushed with roses and pink thorns, and brilliant groups, amid bursts of music, clustered and sauntered on the green turf of bowery lawns. Mrs. Ferrars, on a rustic throne, Avith the wondrous twins in still more wonderful attire, distrib- uted alternate observations of sympathetic gayety to a Russian Orand Duke and to the serene heir of a German principality. And yet there was really an expression on her countenance of restlessness, not to say anxiety, which ill accorded with the dulcet tones and the wa-eathed smiles which charmed her august companions. Zenobia, the great Zenobia, had not arrived, and the hours were advancing. The Grand Duke played with the beautiful and haughty infants, and the German Prince inquired of Endymion whether he were destined to be one of Her Ma- jesty's guards ; but still Zenobia did not come, and Mrs. Ferrars could scarcely conceal her vexation. But there was no real oc- casion for it; for even at this moment, with avant-courier and outriders and badged postilions on her four horses of race, the lodge-gates Averc opening for the reception of the great lady, who herself soon appeared in the distance ; and Mrs. Ferrars, accompanied by ber distinguished guests, immediately rose and advanced to receive the Queen of Fashion. No one appreciated a royal presence more highly than Zenobia. It was her habit to impress upon her noble fellows of both sexes that there were relations of intimacy between herself and the royal houses of Europe, Avhich were not shared by her class. She liked to i)lay
''ALL FOUR OUT!''
27
as by a large
occur," said ! I wonder
icd Zciiobia. idy romeroy
followed tlic )r ever, Mrs. imcnt in tlic ly Avas genial, and brilliant itered on the •ustic tlirone, ittire, distrib- ,' to a Russian principality, untenance of [led with the led her august arrived, and lycd with the incc inquired |e of Her Ma- Mrs. Ferrars las no real oc- t-couricr and of race, the great lady, drs. Ferrari^, ,tely rose and c appreciated as her habit at there were lal houses of liked to play
the part of a social mediator between the tiristocracy and royal
houses. A German Serenity Avas her delight, but a Russian
Grand Duke was her embodiment of power and pomp, and
sound principles in their most authentic and orthodox form.
And yet, though she addressed their highnesses with her usual
ourtly vivacity, and poured forth inquiries which seemed to
indicate the most familiar acquaintance wi<^h the latest inci-
ileiits from Schonbrunn or the Rhine though she embraced her
lo.-tcss, and even kissed the children, the practiced eye of Mrs.
jFerrars, whose life was a study of Zcnobia, detected that her
ilate appearance had been occasioned by an important cause,
Sfind. what was more, that Zenobia was anxious to communicate
lit to her. With feminine tact Mrs. Ferrars moved on with her
nests until the occasion offered when she could present some
reat ladies to the princes ; and then dismissing the children
n appropriate missions, she was not surprised Avhen Zenobia
mmediately exclaimed : *' Thank heaven, wo are at last alone !
ou must have been surprised I was so late. Well, guess what
ftas happened ?" and then as Mrs. Ferrars shook her head, she
roiitinued : '' They are all four out ! " ^ '^Vllfour!"
I '"Yes; Lord Dudley, Lord Palmerston, and Charles Grant Ifollow Iluskissoii. T do not believe the llrst ever meant to go, put the Duke would not listen to his hypocritical explanations, land the rest have followed. I am surprised about Lord Dud- |ey, as I know he loved his oJlice." " I am alarmed," said Mrs. Ferrars.
"Not the slightest cause for fear," exclaimed the intrepid enobia. " It must have Inqipened sooner or later. I am de- ightcd at it. We shall now have a cabinet of our own. Tlicy over would have rested till they had brought in some Whigs, nd the country hates the Whigs. No wonder, when we re- ember that if they had had their way we should have been caring sabots at this time, with a French prefect pro1)aljly in olland House."
"And whom will they put in the cabinet ?" inquired Mrs. errars. " Our good friends, I hope," said Zenobia, with an inspir-
2S
EXDYMIOX.
i!
iiif^ smile ; •■* but I liiive heard nothing about that yet. lam u little sorry about Lord Dudley, as 1 think they have drawn him into their mesh ; but as for the other three, especially Iluskisson and Lord Palmerston, I can tell you the Duke has never luid a ouict moment since they joined him. We shall now begin to reign. The only mistake way ever to have ad- mitted t] em. I think now we have got rid of Liberalism for ever."
CHAPTER VL
Mr. Ferrars did not become a cabinet minister, but this •was a vexation rather than, a disappointment, and tninsient. The unexpected vacancies were tilled by unexi)ected personages. So great a change in the frame of the ministry, Avithout any promotion for himself, was on the first impression not agree- able, but reflection and the sanguine wisdom of Zenobia soon convinced him that all was for the best, that the thought of such rapid preferment was unreasonable, and that time and the due season must inevitably bring all that he could desire, especially as any term to the duration of the ministry was not now to be foreseen : scarcely indeed possible. In short it was shown to him that the Tory part}', renovated and restored, had entered upon a new lease of authority, which would stamp its character on the remainder of the nineteenth century, as Mr. Pitt and his school had marked its earlier and memorable years.
And yet thio very rccor otruction of the government neces- sarily led to an incident Avhich, in its consequences, changed the Avhole character of English politics, and commenced a series of revolutions which has not yet closed.
One of the ncAV ministers who had been preferred to a place which Mr. Ferrars might have filled was an Irish gentleman, and a member for one of the most considerable counties in his country. He was a good speaker, and the government was deficient in debating power in the House of Commons ; he was jiopular and infiuentiah
THE CLAIiE KI.ECTlnX.
i29
,-ct. I am live drawn especially Duke has AVc sliall 0 have ad- cralism for
er, but this 1 trcaisicnt. personages, yithout any I not agrcc- enohia soon thought of it time and ;ould desire, ry was not ihort it Avas stored, had d stamp its iiry, as Mr. irahle years, nent neces- es, changed lecd a series
il to a place gentleman, ntics in his •nment was ins ; he was
The return of a cabinet niinistt.'r by a large constituency was more appreciated in the days of close boroughs than at ])rescnt. There was a rumor that the new minister was to be opposed, b'lt Zenobia laughed iho rumor to scorn. As she irresistibly remarked at one of her evening gatherings, " Every landowner in the county is in his favor ; therefore it is impos- sible." The statistics of Zenobia were quite correct, yet the result was different from what slie anticipated. An Irish law- yer, a professional agitator, himself a Roman Catholic and therefore ineligil)le, announced himself as a candidate in oppo- sition to the new minister, and on the day of election, thirty thousand peasants, setting at deiiancc all the landowners of the county, returned O'Connell at the head of the poll, and jilaced among not the least memorable of historical events — the Clare election.
This event did not, however, occur until the end of the year 1828, for the state of the hnv then prevented the writ from being moved until that time, and during the Avhole of that year the Ferrars family had })ursued a course of unflagging display. Courage, expenditure, and tact combined, had real- ized aln.ost the height of that social ambition to which Mrs. Ferrars soared. Even in the limited and exclusive circle which then prevailed, she began to be counted among the great dames. As for the twins, they seemed quite Avorthy of their beautiful and luxurious mother. Proud, Avillful, and selfish, they had one redeeming c(uality, an intense affection for each other. The sister seemed to have the commanding spirit, for Endym- ion was calm, but, if ho were ruled by his sister, she was ever willing to be his slave, and to sacrifice every consideration to his caprice and his convenience.
The year 1829 Avas CA'cntful, but to Ferrars more agitating than anxious. When it was first known that the head of the calfinet, whose colleague had been defeated at Clare, was him- self iibout to propose the emancipation of the Roman Catholics, there Avas a thrill throughout the country ; but after a time tlio success of the operation was not doubted, and Avas anticii)ated as a fresh proof of the irresistible fortune of the heroic slates- man. There was some popular discontent in the country at
il
!i
■!il
II
V
A ill
\^ ii
30
EXDV2flOy.
tlic proposal, but it was mainly 0:7 mizcd and stimulated by the Dissenters, and that section Ol Churchmen who most re- sembled them. The fligh Chu'.ch party, the descendants of the old connection which had rallied vound Sachevercll, ha(^. subsided into formal i.-m, and shrank from any very active co- operation with their evangx'lical brethren.
The English Church had no competent leaders among the clergy. The spirit that has animated 'Uid disturbed our latter times seemed quite dead, and no one anticipated its resurrec- tion. The bishops liad been selected from college dons, men profoundly ignorant of the condition and the wants of the country. To have edited a Greek play with second-rate suc- cess, or to have been the tutor of some considerable patrician, was the qualification then deemed desirable and sufiicient for an oliice, Avhich at this day is at least reserved for eloquence and energy. The social influence of the episcopal bench was nothing. A prelate was rarely seen in the saloons of Zcnobia. It is since the depths of religious thought have been probed, and the influence of woman in the spread and sustenance of religious feeling has again been recognized, that fascinating and fashionable prelates have become favored guests in the re- fined saloons of the mighty, and, while apparently indulging in the vanities of the hour, have reestablished the influence which in old da}s guided a j\iatilda or the mother of Constau- tine.
The end of the year 18-29, however, brought a private event of moment to the Fci 's family. The elder Mr. Ferrars died. The world observed at the time how deeply affected his son was at this event. The relations between father and son had always been commendable, liut the world Avas hardly prepared for Mr. Ferrars, junior, being so entirely overwhelmed. It would seem that nothing but the duties of public life could have restored him to his friends, and even these duties he relinquished for an unustial time. The world was curioub 0 know the amount of his inheritance, but the proof of the Avill was unusually delayed, and public events soon occurred Avliich alike consigned the will and the will-maker to oblivion.
DEATH OF GEORGE IV.
31
imulated by ho most re- iccndtmts of evcrcll, had L'y active co-
; among tlio
}d our hitter
its resurrec-
e don?;, men
ants of the
iid-ratc suc-
e patrician,
nfiicient for
»r eloquence
1 bench was
of Zcnobia.
cen probed,
istenancc of
fascinating
t3 in the re-
y indulging
e influence
f Constan-
'ivate event lerrars died, lliis son was
lad always ^ed for ]\Ir. [vould seem i'C restored shed for an lamount of ly delayed,
;d the will
CHAPTER VII.
The Duke of Wellington applied himself to the treatment of the critical circumstances of 1830 with that blended patience and quickness of perception to which he owed the success of many campaigns. Quite conscious of the difliculties he had to encounter, he was nevertheless full of confidence in his ability to control them. It is probable that the paramount desire of the Duke in his eifort to confirm his power was to rally and re- store the ranks of the Tory i)arty, disturbed rather than broken up by the passing of the Ivelicf Bill. During the very heat of the struggle it was significantly observed that the head of the powerful family of Lowther, in the House of Commons, was never asked to resign his office, although both himself and his following voted invariably against tlie government measure. The order of the day was the utmost courtesy to the rebels, who were treated, as some alleged, with more consideration than the compliant. At the came time the desire of the Whigs to connect, perhaps even to merge themselves in the ministerial ranks, was not neglected. A Whig had been appointed to suc- ceed the eccentric and too uncompromising AVetherell in the ollice of attorney-general, other posts had been placed at their disposal, and one even, an old companion in arms of the Duke, had entered tlie cabinet. The confidence in the Duke's star was not diminished, and under ordinary circumstances this ])alanced strategy would probably have been successful. But it was destined to cope with great and tmexpected events.
The first was the unexpected demise of the croAvn. Tlio death of King George the Fourth at the end of the montli of June, according to the then existing constitution, necessitated a dissolution of Parliament, and so deprived the minister of that invaluable quality of time, necessary to soften and win back his estranged friends. ISTcvertheless, it is not improbable, that the Duke might still have succeeded, had it not been for the occurrence of the French insurrection of 1830, in the very heat of the preparations for the general election in England. The Whigs, who found the Duke going to the country without that
I I
] I
r
i f
EXDYMIOX.
The excitement of the times "wiis rellccted in her She addressed her arriving guests us they made tlicir
icconsi.ruction of liis min'-^try on which tliey had cniited, saw tlicir opportunity and seized it. The triumi)hant riots of Paris Avere dignilied into "the three gloriors days," and the tlirec glo- rious days were universally recognized as the trit^ni})!! of civil and religious liberty. The names of Polignac and Wellington were adroitly connected together, and the phrase Parliamen- tary Reform began to circulate.
It was Zenobia's last reception for the season ; on the mor- row she was about to depart for her county, and canvass for lier candidates. She was still undaunted, and never more ins])iring, manner.
obeisance to her, asked for news and imparted it before she could be answered, declared that nothing had been more criti- cal since '03, that there was onlv one man who was able to deal with the situation, and thanked heaven that he Avas not only in England, but in her draAving-room.
Ferrars, Avho had been dining Avitli his patron. Lord Pome- roy, and had the batisfaction of feeling, that at any rate his return to the ncAV Parliament Avas certain, Avhile helping liim- gelf to coffee could not refrain from saying in a Ioav tone to a gentleman Avho Avas performing the same office, '•' Our Whig friends seem in high spirits, baron."
The gentleman thus addressed Avas Baron Sergius, a man of middle age. His countenance Avas singularly intelligent, tem- pered Avitli an expression mild and winning. lie had attended the Congress of Vienna to represent a fallen party, a difficult and ungracious task, but he had shoAvn such high qualities in the fulfillment of his painful duties — so much knowledge, so much self-control, and so much Avise and unaffected concilia- tion— that he had Avon universal respect, and especially Avith the English plenipotentiaries, so that when lie visited England, Avliich he did frequently, the houses of both parties were open to him, and he was as intimate with the Whigs as he Avas Avitli the great Duke, by AAiiom he was highly esteemed.
"As Ave liaA'o got our coffee, let us sit down," said the bar- on, and they withdrcAV to a settee against the wall.
"You know that I am a Liberal, and haA'e always been a
BAROX S'-:nGIUS.
83
;ed, saw of Vi\n^ ircc glo- of civil lliiigton i-liiimcn-
;hc mor- ivass I'or cr more d in licr ude llicii* eforc she lorc criti- ilc to deal ot only ill
>rd Pome- y rate liis [)ing him- toiie to a lur Wliig
a man of ;ont, tcm-
at tended
i\ difficult
lalities in
rledgc, so
concilia- [ially with 1 England,
rere open
was with
Id the har-
T.ibcral," said the baron; "I know the value of civil ami religious liberty, for I was born in a country where we had neither, and where we liave since enjo^'ed either very fitfully. Nothing can be much drearier than the present lot of my coun- try, and it is probable that these doings at Paris may help my friends a little, and they may again hold up their heads for a time ; but I have seen too much, and am too old, to indulge in dreams. You are a young man and will live to see what I can only predict. The world is thinking of something else than civil and religious liberty Those are phrases of the eighteenth century. The men Avho have won these ' three glorious days ' at Paris, want neither civilization nor religion. They will not he content till they have destroyed both. It is possible that they may be parried for a time ; that the adroit wisdom of the house of Orleans, guided by Talleyrand, may give this move- ment the resemblance, and even the character, of a middle- class revolution. It is no such thing ; the barricades were not erected by the middle class. I know these people ; it is a fra- ternity, not a nation. Europe is honeycombed with their secret societies. They are spread all over Spain. Italy is entirely mined. I know more of the southern than the northern na- tions, but I have been assured by one who should know, that the brotherhood are organized throughout Germany and even in liussia. I have sjioken to the Duke about these things. He is not indifferent, or altogether incredulous, but he is so essen- tially practical that he can only deal with what he sees. I have spoken to the Whig leaders. They tell me that there is only one specific, and that a complete one — constitutional govern- ment ; that with representative institutions, secret societies can not coexist. I may be wrong, but it seems to me that with tlie.^e secret societies representative institutions rather vill dis- appear."
lys been a
'
) '
34
^1
EXDYMIOX.
CIIAPTEU VIII.
AViiAT unexpectedly took place in the southern part of England, and especially in the maritime counties, during the autumn of 1830, seemed rather to confirm the intimations of Baron Sergius. The people in the rural districts liad become disaficcted. Tlieir discontent was generally attributed to the abases of the Poor Law, and to the lowness of their wages. But the abuses of the Poor Law, though intolerable, were gen- erally in favor of the laborer, and though Avages in some parts were uncpiestionably low, it was observed that the tumultuous assemblies, ending frequently in riot, Avere held in districts where this cause did not prevail. The most fearful feature of the approaching anarchy was the frcfpicnt acts of incendiaries. The blazing homesteads baHlcd the feeble police and the help- less magistrates ; and the government had reason to believe that foreign agents were actively promoting these mysterious crimes.
Amid partial discontent and general dejection came the crash of the Wellington ministry, and it required all the in- spiration of Zenobia to sustain William Ferrars under the trial. But she was undaunted and sanguine as a morning in spring. Xothing could persuade her that the Whigs could ever form a government, and she was quite sure that the clerks in the pub- lic offices alone could turn them out. AVhen the Whig govern- ment was formed, and its terrible programme announced, she laughed it to scorn, and derided with inexhaustible merriment the idea of the House of Commons passing a Reform Bill. She held a great assembly the night that General Gascoyne defeated the first measure by a majority of one, and passed an evening of ecstasy in giving and receiving congratulations. The morrow brought a graver brow, but still an indomitable spirit, and through all these tempestuous times Zenobia never quailed, though mobs burnt the castles of dukes and the palaces of bishops.
Serious as was the state of affairs to William Ferrars, hi condition was not so desperate as that of some of his friends. His seat at least was safe in the new Parliament that was to
I
-J
.SL'KLCU OF Fi:h'i:Ah\^.
n.-)
part of .iring the ations of (1 become :ed to the ?ir wages, were gcn- jiuc parts imiiltuous 1 districts feature of :cndiaric3. 1 tlic liclp- )elieve that Dus crimes, came the .ill the in- thc trial, ill spring, iver form a 11 the pub- lig goverii- unccd, she merriment Bill. She le defeated an evening he morrow spirit, and r quailed, palaces of
thenars, hi lis friends, lat was to
pass a IJcform Bill. As for the Tories generally, they were swept off tlie board. Scarcely a constituency, in which was a popular element, was faithful to them. Tlie counties in tlioso days were the great expouiulers of jyojiular princii)Ies, and whenever England was excited, which was rare, she spoke through licr freeholders. In this instance almost every Tory knight of the shire lost his scat except Lord Chandos, the member for Buckinghamshire, who owed his success entirely to his personal popularity. ''Never mind,'' said Zciiobia, '•'what docs it signify ? The Lords will throw it out.''
And bravely and unceasingly she worked for this end. To assist this purpose it was necessary that a lengthc'icd and powerful resistance to the measure should be made in tlie Com- mons ; that the public mind should be im])resscd with its dan- gerous principles, and its promoters cheapened by the cx})03- ure of their corrupt arrangements and their inaccurate details. It must be confessed that these objects were resolutely kept in view, and that the Tory opposition evinced energy and abilities not unwortliy of a great parliamentary occasion. Ferrars par- ticularly distinguished himself. He rose immensely in the estimation of the House, and soon the public began to talk of him. His statistics about the condemned boroughs were as- tounding and unanswerable ; he Avas the only man who seemed to know anything of the elements of the new ones. He was as eloquent too as exact—sometimes as fervent as Burke, and always as accurate as Cocker.
"•'I never thought it was in "William Ferrars," said a mem- ber, musingly, to a companion as they walked home one night ; 'I always thought him a good man of business, and all that sort of thing — but, somehow or other, I did not think this was in liini."
"Well, he his a good deal at stake, and that brings it out of a fellow," said his friend.
It was, however, pouring water upon sand. Any substantial resistance to the meas'.ire was from the first out of the question. Lord Chandos accomplished the only important feat, and that was the enfranchisement of the farmers. This perpetual struggle, however, occasioned a vast deal of excitement, and
SG
/;A7> YMIDX.
the actors in it oficn iii'lul-^d in ilie wild credulity of impos- sible expectations. The ^illoon of Zeiiobiti avu.s ever thronged, and slie was never more confident than when the bill passed the Comnionis. She knew that the King would never give hi.s assent to the bill. I lis Majesty had liad quite enough of going down in hackney coaches to carry revolutions. After all, he was the .son of good King George, and the court wouhl save the country, as it had often done before. "But it will not come to that," she added. " The Lords will do their duty."
**But Lord AVaverlcy tells me," said Ferrars, "that there are forty of them who were against the bill last year who will vote for the second reading."
*' Never mind Lord Wavcrley and such addlcbrains," said Zenobia, with a smile of triumphant mystery. " So long as we have the court, the Duke, and Lord Lyndhurst on our side, Avc can adord to laugh at such conceited poltroons. J lis moth- er was my dearest friend, and I know he used to have fits. Look bright," she continued ; '' things never Avcrc better. Before a week has passed these people will be nowhere."
'' But how is it possible ?"
"Trust mc."
"I always do — and yet — "
*' You never were nearer being a cabinet minister," she said, with a radiant glance.
And Zenobia was right. Though the government, with the aid of ^hc waverers, carried the second reading of the bill, a week afterward, on May 7th, Lord Lyndhurst rallied the waverers again to his standard and carried his famous resolu- tion, that the enfranchising clauses should })rccede the disfran- chisement in the great measure. Lord Grey and his colleagues resigned, and the King sent for Lord Lyndhurst. The bold chief baron advised His Majesty to consult the Duke of Wel- lington, and was himself the bearer of the King's message to Apsley House. The Duke found the King "in great distress," and he therefore did not hesitate in promising to endeavor to form a ministry.
"Who was right ?" said Zenobia to Mr. Fcrrars. "He is so busy he could not write to you, but he told me to tell 3'ou
IlOXOIiS.
37
impos- roiiged,
;ivo liis
• all, ho aid save will not [\uty." at there who will
lis,
said
I long as our side, lis motli- lavc fits. c better.
1' i^lic said,
with the the bill, liUied the IS resolii- |c disfran- joUeagucs JThc bold le of Wel- lessage to distress," licavor to
*aie is tell you
to call at Apsloy Iloiue at twelve to-morrow. Yon will be in the cabinet,"
"I have got it at last! "slid Ferrars to himself. "It is worth living for and at any peril. All the cares of life sink into insignificance under such circumstances. The dillleuUies are great, l)ut their very greatness will furnish the means of tiieir solution. The Crown can not be dragged in the mud, and the Duke was born for conquest."
A day passed, and another day, and Ferrars was not again f-uinmoncd. The alfair seemed to hang lire. Zenobia was still l)rave, but Fcrrais, who knew her thoroughly, could doiect her lurking anxiety. Then she told him in conOdenco that 8ir Uohert made diOlcultics, '"but there is nothing in it," she added. "' The Duke has itrovjded forcvervthinc, and he means Sir Kobcrt to be Premier. lie could not refuse that ; it would be almost an act of treason." Two davs after she sent for .Mr. Ferrars, early in the morning, and received him in her boudoir. Iler countenance was excited, but serious. '' Don't be alarmed," she said ; "nothing will prevent a government be- ing formed, but Sir Robert has thrown us over ; I never had confidence in him. It is most provoking, as Mr. Baring had joined us, and it was such a good name for the city. But the failure of one man is the opportunity of another. AVe want a leader in the House of Commons. He must be a man who can speak ; of experience, who knows the House, i S forms, and all that. There is only one man indicated. You can not doubt about him. I told you honors would bo tumbling on j-our head. You are the man ; you are to have one of the highest offices in the cabinet, and lead the Ilouse of Commons."
" Peel declines," said Ferrars, speaking slowly and shaking his head. " That is very serious."
" For himself," said Zenobia, " not for you. It makes your fortune."
"The difficulties seem too great to contend with."
''What difficulties are there? You have got the court, and you have got the Ilouse of Lords. Mr. Pitt was not nearly so well off, for he had never been in office, and had at the same time to fight Lord North and that wicked Mr. Fox, the orator
'
38
EXDYMIOX.
of the day, wliile you luivc only got Lord Altliorp, who can't order his OAvn dinner."
"I am in amazement," said Fcrrars, and he seemed phinged in thonglit.
" But you do not hesitate ?"
" Xo," he said, looking up dreamily, for he had been lost in ahsti-action ; and speaking in a measured and hollow voice, ''I do not hesitate." Then resuming a brisk tone he said, ''This is not an age for hesitation; if asked, I will do the deed."
At this moment there was a tap at the door, and the groom of the chambers brought in a note for Mr. Ferrars, which had been forwarded from his OAvn residence, and which requested his presence at Apsley House. Having read it, he gave it to Zenobia, who exclaimed with delight, "Do not lose a moment. I am so glad to have got rid of Sir Robert with his doubts and his difficulties. We want new blood."
That was a wonderful walk for "William Ferrars, from St. James' Square to Apsley House. As he moved along, he was testing his courage and capacity for the sharp trials that awaited him. He felt himself not unequal to conjunctures in which he had never previously indulged even in imagination. His had been an ambii." jus, rather than a soaring spirit. He had never contemplated the possession of power except under the a?gis of some commanding chief. Now it was for him to con- trol senates and guide councils. He screwed himself up to the sticking-point. Desperation is sometimes as powerful an in- spirer as genius.
The great man was alone — calm, easy, and courteous. He hf.d ;-ent for Mr. Ferrars, because having had one interview with him, 1)1 which his cooperation had been requested in the conduct of affairs, the Duke thought it was due to him to give him the earliest intimation of the change of circumstances. The vote of the House of Commons on the motion of Lord Ebrington had placed an insurmountable barrier to the forma- tion of a government, and his grace had accordingly relin- quished the commission with which he had been intrusted by the King.
num.
30
lio can't plunged
ccn lost w voice, lie said, L do the
le groom licli liad equcsted ave it to moment, ubts and
from St. ^, lie was t aAvaitcd in which on. His
He had the
to con- [ip to the il an in-
Inder
)us. lie
Interview
jd in the
to give
istances.
Lord
forma-
fy relin-
isted by
of
CHAPTER IX.
AvAiLiXG himself of his latch-key, Ferrars reentered his home unnoticed. He went at once to his library, and locked tlie door of the apartment. There, sitting before his desk, ho buried his face in his hands, and remained in that posture for ;i considerable time.
They were tumultuous and aAvf ul thoughts that passed over his brain. The dreams of a life were dissipated, and he had to encounter the stern reality of his position — and that was Ruin, lie was without hope and without resource. His debts were vast ; his patrimony was a fable ; and the mysterious inheri- tance of his wife had been tampered Avith. The elder Ferrars had left an insolvent estate ; he had supported his son liber- ally, but latterly from his son's own resources. The father had made himself the pi'incipal trustee of the son's marriage settlement. His colleague, a relative of the heiress, had died, and care was taken that no one should be substituted in his stead. All this had been discovered by Ferrars on his father's death, but ambition and the excitement of a life of blended elation and peril had sustained him under the concussion. One by one every chance had vanished : first his private means and then his public prospects ; he liad lost office, and now he was about to lose Parliament. Ilis wholo position, so long, and carefully, and skillfully built uj), seemed to dissolve, and dissipate into insignificant fragments. And now he had to break the situation to his Avife. She Avas to become the un- prepared partner of the secret which had gnawed at his heart for years, during Avhicli to her his mien had often been smiling and always serene. Mrs. Ferrars was at home, and alone, in her luxurious boudoir, and he went to her at once. After years of dissimulation, now that all Avas over, Ferrars could not bear the suspense of four-and-tAventy hours.
It was difficult to bring her into a mood of mind capable of comprehending a tithe of Avhat she had to learn : and yet tlie darkest part of the tale she Avas never to knoAv. Mrs. Fer- rars, though singularly intuitive, shrank from controA'crsy,
li^
■i li!
|]
lib
« !
40
EXDYMIOX.
and settled everything by contradiction and assertion. Sl;o maintained for a long time that what her husband communi- cated to her could not be ; that it was absurd, and even impos- sible. After a while, she talked of selling her diamonds and reducing her equipages, sacrificing which she assumed Avould put everything right. And when she found her husband still grave and still intimating that the sacrifices must be beyond all this, and that they m.ust prepare for the life and habits of another social sphere, she became violent, and Avept, and de- clared her wrontrs ; that she had liccn deceived and outraied and infamously treated.
Kemcmbcring how long and with what apparent serenity in her presence he had endured his secret woes, and liow one of the principal objects of his life had ev- ■" ^een to guard her even from a shade of solicitude, even the restrained Ferrars was affected ; his countenance changed and his eye became suffused. When she observed this, she suddenly threw her arms round his neck, and, with many embraces, amid sighs and tears, exclaimed, "Oh, AYilliam ! if we love each other, what does anything signify ?"
And what could anything signify under such circumstances and on such conditions ? As Ferrars pressed his beautiful wife to his heart, he remembered only his early love, which seemed entirely to revive. Unconsciously to himself, too, he was greatly relieved by this burst of tenderness on her part, for the prospect of this interview had been mos! di tressful to him. " My darling," he said, "ours is not a case 2 ' ommon imprudence or misfortune. "We are the victims of .. revolu- tion, and we must bear our lot as becomes us under such cir- cumstances. Individual misfortunes are merged in the greater catastrophe of the country."
"That is the true view," said his wife ; "and, after all, the poor King of Franco is much Avorsc off than we are. How- ever, I can not now buy the Duchesse of Sevres' lace, which I had promised her to do. It is rather awkward. However, the best way always is to speak the truth. I must tell the duchess I am powerless, and that we arc the victims of a revo- lution, like herself."
DIGNITY AND ECOXOMY.
41
. Slio imuni- impos- ids and would id still beyond [ibits of md do- utragcd
serenity low one ard her Ferrars became irew licr id siglis li other,
Then they began to talk ([uite cozily together over their prospects, he sitting on the .'^ofa by her side and holding her hand. Mrs. Ferrars would net liear of retiring to the conti- nent. *'No," she said, with all lier sanguine vein returning, '^ you ahvays used to say I brought you luck, and I will bring you luck yet. There must be a reaction. The wheel will turn and bring round our friends again. Do not let us then be out of the way. Your claims arc immense. They must do some- thing for you. They ought to give you India, and if we only set our mind upon it, we shall get it. Depend upon it, things are not so bad as they seem. What appear to be calamities arc often the sources of fortune. I would much sooner that you should be Governor-General than a cabinet minister. That odious House of Commons is very wearisome. I am not sure any constitution can bear it very long. I am not sure whether I would not prefer being Governor-General of India even to being Prime Minister."
nstanccs eautiful , Avhicli
too, he cr part, 3ssful to
omnion
rcvolu- uch cii-
greatcr
Ifter all,
IIov/-
rhich I
Lowovcv,
tell the
a rcvo-
CIIAPTER X.
In consequence of the registration under the Reform Act it was not possible for Parliament to be dissolved, and an appeal made to the new constituency, until the end of the year. This was advantageous to Mr. Ferrars, and afforded him six months of personal security to arrange his affairs. Both husband and "wife were proud, and were anxious to cpiit the world with dig- nity. All were so busy about themselves at that period, and the vicissitudes of life between continental revolutions and English reform so various and extensive, that it was not difli- cult to avoid the scrutiny of society. Mrs. Ferrars broke to Ze- nobia that, as her husband was no longer to bo in Parliament, they had resolved to retire for some time to a country life, though, as Mr. Ferrars had at length succeeded in impressing on his wife that their future income was to be counted by hun- dreds, instead of thousands, it was difficult for her to realize a rural establishment that should combine dignity and economy.
r^
42
i^Lormoy.
I !
i:
f "ii :i
r
Without, however, absolutely alleging tlic cause, she contrived to baffle the various propositions of tliis kind Avhich the ener- getic Zcnobia made to her, an J while she listened with appar- ent interest to accounts of deer park.-:, and expensive shooting, and delightful neighborhoods, would just exclaim, " Cliarm- ing ! but rather more, I fancy, than we require, for we mean to be very quiet till my girl is presented."
That young lady was now thirteen, and though her parents were careful to say nothing in her presence which would ma- terially reveal their real situation, for Avhich they intended very gradually to prepare her, the scrutinizing powers Avith which nature had prodigally in\'estcd their daughter Avcrc not easily baffled. She asked no questions, but nothing seemed to escape the penetrative glance of that dark blue eye, calm amid all the mystery, and tolerating rather than sharing the frequent em- brace of her parents. After a Avhile her brother came home from Eton, to Avhicli he was never to return. A few days be- fore this CA^ent she became unusually restless, and CA'en agitated. When he arrived, neither Mr, nor Mrs. Ferrars Avas at home. He knocked gayly :at the door, a schoolboy's knock, and was hardly in the hall when his name was called, and he caught the face of his sister leaning over the balustrade of the landing- place. He ran upstairs Avith Avondrous speed, and Avas in an instant locked in her arms. She kissed him and kissed him again, and when he tried to speak, she stojiped his mouth Avitli kisses. And then she said, "^ Something has happened. What it is I can not make out, but we are to haA^e no more ponies."
CHAPTER XI.
At the foot of the Berkshire downs, and itself on a gentle elevation, there is an old hall Avith gable ends and lattice Avin- doAVS, standing in grounds Avliich once Avere stately, and Avhere there are yet glade-like terraces of ycAV trees, Avliich giA'e ,iu air of dignity to a neglected scene. In the front of the hall huge gates of iron, highly Avrought, and bearing an ancient date as
i
nURSTLEY
43
;rived cner- ippar- oting, harm- mean
arents (1 ma- d very wliicli i easily escape all the snt em- 3 home [ays be- ^itated. ; home, ind was cauglit .nding- is in an ed liini til with What
bnies
>5
o'cntle Ice win- where Je fiu air ill imgo date as
well as the shield of a noble houiic, opened on a village green, round which were clustered the cottages of the parish with only one exception, and that was the vicarage house, a modern build- ing, not without taste, and surrounded by a small but brilliant garden. The church was contiguous to the hall, and had been raised by the lord on a portion of liis domain. Behind the hall and its inclosure, the country was common land but pic- turesque. It had once been a beech forest, and though the timber had been greatly cleared, the green land was still occa- sionally dotted, sometimes with groups and sometimes witli single trees, Avhile the juniper which here abounded, and rose to a great height, gave a rich wildness to the scene, and sus- tained its forest character.
llurstley had for many years been deserted by the family to which it belonged. Indeed, it was rather difficult to say to whom it did belong. A dreary fate had awaited an ancient, and, in its time, even not immemorable home. It had fallen info chancerv, and for the last half century had either been uninliabited or let to strangers. Mr. Fcrrars' lawyer was in the chancery suit, and knew all about it. The difficulty of finding a tenant for such a place, never easy, was increased by its remoteness from any railway communication, Avhich was now beginning to figure as an important element in such ar- rangements. The Master in Chancery would be satisfied with a nominal rent, provided only he could obtain a family oi con- sideration to hold under him. Mr. Fcrrars was i)ersuaded to go down alone to rcconnoiter the place. It pleased him. It was aristocratic, yet singularly inexpensive. The house con- tained an immense hall, which reached the roof, and which would have become a baronial mansion, and a vast staircase in keeping ; but the living rooms were moderate, even small, in dimensions, and not numerous. The land he was expected to take consisted only of a few meadoAVs, which he could let if necessary, and a single laborer could manage the garden.
^Mrs. Ferrars was so delighted with the description of the galleried hall, that she resolved on their taking llurstley Avith- out even her previously visiting it. The only things she cared for in the country were a hall and a pony-chair.
4i
EXDYMIOX.
1 '\
I
I !
All the carriages were sold, and all the servants discharged. Two or three maid-servants and a man vrlio must he found in the country, who could attend tiiem at tahle, and valet alike liis master and the pony, was the establishment which was to succeed the crowd of retainers who had so long lounged away Iheir lives in the saloons of Hill Street, and the groves and gardens of Wimbledon.
Mr. and Mrs. Ferrra-s and their daughter traveled down to Ilurstley in a po°>chaise ; Endymion, with the servants, was sent by the fcLige-coach, which accomplished the journey of sixty miles in ten hours. Myra said little during the journey, but an expression of ineffable contempt and dis- gust seemed permanent on her countenance. Sometimes she shrugged her shoulders, sometimes she raised her eyebrows, and sometimes she turned up her nose. And then she gave a sigh ; but it was a sigh not of sorrow, but of impatience. Her parents lavished attentions on her which she accepted without recognition, only occasionally observing that she wished she Iiad gone with Endymion.
It was dusk when they arrived at Ilurstley, and the melan- t^i'-ly hour did not tend to raise their spirits. However, the gardener's wife had lit a good fire of beech- wood in the draw- ing-room, and threw as they entered a pannier of cones upon the logs, which crackled and cheerfully blazed away. Even Myra seemed interested by the novelty of the wood fire and the iron dogs. She remained by their side looking abstractedly on the expiring logs, while her parents wandered about the ]iouse and examined or prepared the requisite arrangements. AVhile they Avere yet absent, there was some noise and a con- siderable bustle in the hall. Endymion and his retinue had arrived. Tlien Myra immediately roused herself, and listened liki a startled deer. But the moment she cr.ught his voice, an expression of rapture suffused her countenance. It beamed with vivacity and delight. She rushed away, pushed through the servants and the luggage, embraced him and said, "We will go over the house and see our rooms together."
"Wandering without a guide and making many mistakes, fortunately they soon met their parents. Mrs. Ferrars good-
AX A UTUMXAL MORX.
45
uivgcd. imd in ■t alike was to d away res and
1 down n-vant?, journey ing the lid dis- .mes she rchrows, c gave a !C. Her without ;lied she
c mchui- jver. the ic draw- ees upon , Even fire and ractcdly out the ements. a Con- ine had listened I'oice, an beamed through d, "Wo
listalvcs, Irs good-
naturedly recommenced her labors of inspection, and explained all her plans. There was a very pretty room for Endymion, and to-morrow it was to be very comfortable. He was quite l)leased. Then they were shown Myra's room, but she said nothing- standing by with a sweet scoff, as it were, lingering on her lips, while her mother disserted on all the excellences of the chamber. Then they were summoned to tea. The gardener's wife was quite a leading spirit, and had prepared everything ; the curtains were drawn, and the room lighted ; an urn hissed ; there were piles of bread and butter and a pyra- mid of buttered toast. It was wonderful what an air of comfort had been conjured up in this dreary mansion, and it was impossible for the travelers, however wearied or chagrined, to be insensible to the convenience and cheerfulness of all around them.
AVlien the meal was over, the children sat together in whis- l)cring tattle. Mrs. Ecrrars had left the room to see if all was ready for their hour of retirement, and Mr. Ecrrars was walk- ing up and down the room, absorbed in thought.
"What do you think of it all, Endymion?" whispered ^[yra to her twin.
"I rather like it," he replied.
She looked at him with a glance of blended love and mock- cry, and then she said in his ear, '' I feel as if we had fallen from some star."
CHAPTER XII.
Tee m^'vrow brought a bright autumnal morn, and every one woke, if not happy, interested. There was much to see and much to do. The dew was so heavy that the children were not allowed to quit the broad gravel walk that bounded one side of the old house, but they caught enticing vistas of the gloaniy glades, and the abounding light and shade softened and adorned everything. Every sight and sound, too, was novel, and from the rabbit that started out of the grove, stared at
fr??
40
EXD YMTOy.
!«
! ■
1
V, !
them and then disappeared, to tlio jays cliattering in tlie more distant woods, all was wonderment at least for a week. They saAv sfpiirrels for the first time, and for the first time beheld a liedgehog. Their parents were busy in the house ; Mr. Fer- rars unpacking and settling his books, and his wife arranging some few articles of ornamental furniture that had been saved from the London wreck, and rendering their usual room of residence as refined as was in her power. It is astonishing how much effect a woman of taste can produce with a pretty chair or two, full of fancy and color, a table clothed with a few books, some family miniatures, a workbag of rich material, and some toys that avc ncYcr desert. '*I have not much to work with," said Mrs. Ferrars, with a sigh, " but I think the coloring is pretty."
On the second day after their arrival, the rector and his wife made them a visit. Mr. Penruddock was a naturalist, and had written the history of his parish. He had escaped being an Oxford don by being preferred early to this college living, but he had married the daughter of a don, who appreciated the grand manners of their new acquaintances, and who, when she had overcome their first rather awe-inspiring impression, be- came communicative and amused them much with her details respecting the little world in which they were now to live. She could not conceal her wonderment at the beauty of the tAvins, though they were no longer habited in those dresses whicli had once astonished even Mayfair.
Part of the scheme of the new life wa.s the education of the children by their parents. Mr. Ferrars had been a distin- guished scholar, and was still a good one. He was patient and methodical, and deeply interested in his contemplated task. So far as disjDOsition was concerned the joupil was not disappointing. Endymion was of an affectionate disposition and inclined to treat his father with deference. He was gen- tle and docile ; but he did not acquire knowledge with facility, and was remarkably deficient in that previous information on which his father counted. The other pupil was of a different temperament. She learned with a glance, and remembered with extraordinary tenacity everything she had acquired. But
POLITICAL COMPOSITION.
47
le more They lelield a [r. Fer- I'anging n saved room of mg how chair or r books, iid some V with," loring is
and his list, and ed being e living, lated the k'hen she sion, be- r details
to live. y of the ! dresses
in of the distin- patient [mplated was not [position ras gen- I facility, lation on lliffercnt }mbered But
■■a
slio Avas neither tender nor deferential, and to induce her to study you could not depend on the afioctions, but only on her intelligence. So she Avas often fitful, capricious, or provoking, and her mother, Avho, though accomplished and eager, had neither the method nor the self-restraint of Mr. Ferrars, was often annoyed and irritable. Then there were scenes, or rather cbulHtions on one side, for Myra was ahvays unmoved and enraging from her total want of sensibility. Sometimes it became necessary to appeal to ^fr. Ferrars, and her manner to her father, though devoid of feeling, was at least not contemp- tuous. Nevertheless, on the whole the scheme, as time went on, promised to be not unsuccessful. Endymion, though not rapidly, advanced surely, and made some amends for the years tluit had been wasted in fashionable private schools and iiie tlicn fri\olity of Eton. Myra, Avho, notwithstanding her early days of indulgence, had enjoyed the advantage of admirable governesses, was well grounded in more than one modern lan- guage, and she soon mastered them. And in due time, though much after the period on which we are low touching, she an- nounced her desire to become acquainted with German, in those days a much rarer acquirement than at present. Her mother could not help her in this respect, and that was perhaps an additional reason for the study of this tongue, for Myra was impatient of tuition, and not unjustly full of self-conscious- ness. She took also the keenest interest in the progress of her brother, made herself acquainted with all his lessons, and some- times helped him in their achievement.
Tliough they had absolutely no acquaintance of any kind except the rector and his family, life Avas not dull. Mr. Fer- rars was always employed, for besides the education of his children, he had systematically resumed a habit in which he had before occasionally indulged, and that Avas political com- position. He had in his lofty days been the author of more than one essay, in the most celebrated periodical publication of the Tories, Avhich had commanded attention and obtained celebrity. Many a public man of high rank and reputation, and even more than one Prime Minister, had contributed in their time to its famous pages, but never Avithout being paid.
■ (
i
I t
48
EXDYMIOy.
It was tlic organic law of lliis puLlicatiou, tliat gnituitous con- tributions should never be admitted. And in this principle there was as much wisdom as pride. Celebrated statesmen Avould point with complacency to the snuiT-box or the picture which had been purchased by their literary labor, and there was more than one bracelet on the arm of ^Mrs. Ferrars, and more than one genet in her stable, which had been the reward of a profound or a slashing article by William.
What had been the occasional diversion of political life was now to be the source of regular income. Though living in profound solitude, Ferrars had a vast sum of political experi- ence to draw upon, and though his training and general intel- ligence were in reality too exclusive and academical for the stirring age which had now opened, and on Avhicli he had un- happily fallen, they nevertheless suited the audience to which they were particularly addressed. Ilis Corinthian style, in which the Maenad of Mr. Burke was habited in the last mode of Almack's, his sarcasms against the illiterate and his invec- tives against the low, his descriptions of the country life of the aristocracy contrasted with the horrors of the guillotine, his Horatian allusions and his Virgilian passages, combined to pro- duce a whole which equally fascinated and alarmed his readers.
These contributions occasioned some communications with the editor or publisher of the Review, which were not without interest. Parcels came down by the coach, inclosing not mere- ly proof sheets, but frequently ncAv books — the pamphlet of the hour before it was published, or a volume of discoveries in un- known lands. It was a link to the world they had quitted without any painful associations. Otherwise their communi- cations with the outer world were slight and rare. It is diffi- cult for us who live in an age of railroads, telegraplis, penny posts and penny newspapers, to realize how uneventful, how limited in thought and feeling, as well as in incident, was the life of an English family of retired habits and limited means, only forty years ago. The whole world seemed to be morally, as well as materially, "adscript! glebae."
Mr. and Mrs. Ferrars did not wish to move, but had they so wished, it would have been under any circumstances for
EXCURSIOXS OF DISCOVERY.
4[>
tou3 con- principlo Htiitcsmcn [ic picture and there rriirs, and ;lie reward
;al life was L living in ical expcri- ncnil intel- 3al for the he had un- 3C to which .n style, in c last mode 1 his invcc- y life of the illotine, his ined to pro- lis readers. ;ations with not without o- not mere- phlet of the eries in nn- Imd quitted r communi- It is dilli- aphs, penny entful, how cnt, was the ;ted means, be morally,
had they Lstances for
them a laborious and costly affair. The only ne\vsi)aper they saw was the *' Evening Mail," which arrived three times a week, and was the ** Times " newspaper with all its contents except its advertisements. As the " Times " newspaper had the credit of mainly contributing to the passing of Lord Grey's Reform Bill, and was then wliispered to enjoy t^ie incredible sale of twelve thousand copies daily, Mr. Ferrars assumed that in its columns he would trace the most authentic intimations of com- ing events. The cost of postage was then so heavy, tluit do- mestic correspondence was necessarily very restricted. But this vexatious limitation hardly applied to the Ferrars. They had never paid postage. They were born and had always lived in the franking world, and although Mr. Ferrars had now him- self lost the privilege, both official and parliamentary, still all their correspondents were frankers, and they addressed their replies without compunction to those who were free. Never- theless, it was astonishing how little in their ncAv life they cared to avail themselves of this correspondence. At first, Zcnobia wrote every week, almost every day, to Mrs. Ferrars, but after a time Mrs. Ferrars, though at first pleased by the attention, felt its recognition a burden. Then Zenobia, wiio at length, for the first time in her life, had taken a gloomy view of affairs, relapsed into a long silence, and in fact had nearly forgotten the Ferrars, for, as she herself used to say, " IIow can one rec- ollect people whom one never meets ? "
In the mean time, for we have been a little anticipating in our last remarks, the family at Ilurstley were much pleased with the country they now inhabited. They made excursions of discovery into the interior of their world, Mrs. Ferrars and Myra in the pony-chair, her husband and Endymion walking by their side, and Endymion sometimes taking liis sister's seat against his wish, but in deference to her irresistible will. Even Myra could hardly be insensible to the sylvan wildness of the old chase, and the romantic villages in the wooded clefts of the clowns. As for Endymion he was delighted, and it seemed to him, perhaps he unconsciously felt it, that this larger and more frequent experience of nature was a compensation for much which they had lost. 3
»
'ii
II
50
EXDYMION'.
After a time, wlicn they liad become a little acquainted with their simple neighborhood, and the lirst impression of wildness and novelty had worn out, the twins were permitted to wjJk together alone, though within certain limits. The village ji.nd its vicinity was quite free, but they were not per- mitted to enter the woods, and not to wander on the chase out of sight of the mansion. These walks alone with Endymion were the greatest pleasure of his sister. She delighted to niako him tell her of his life at Eton, and if she ever sighed it was when she lamented that his residence there had been so short. Then they found an inexhaustible fund of interest and sym- pathy in the past. They wondered if they ever should have ponies again. " I think not," said Myra, *'and yet how merry to scamper together over this chase ! "
*'But they would not let us go," said Endymion, ''without a groom."
'* A groom!" exclaimed Myra, i an elfish laugh; '*I believe, if the truth were really known, we ought to be making our own beds and washing our own dinner plates. "
" And arc you sorry, Myra, for all that has happened ? " asked Endymion.
" I hardly know what has happened. They keep it very close. But I am too astonished to be sorry. Besides, what is the use of whimpering ? "
'' I cried very much one day," said Endymion.
"All ! you are soft, dear darling. I never cried in my life, except once with rage."
At Christmas a new character appeared on the stage, the rector's son, Nigel. lie had completed a year with a privatj tutor, and was on the eve of commencing his first term at Oxford, being eighteen, nearly five years older than the twins. He was tall, with a countenance of remarkable intelligence and power, though still softened by the innocence and bloom of boyhood. He was destined to be a clergyman. The twins were often thrown into his society, for though too old to be their mere companion, his presence was an excuse for Mrs. Penruddock more frequently joining them in their strolls, and under her auspices their wanderings had no limit, except the
FARMER TnORXnERRY.
51
icquaiutctl n'cssiun of permitted lits. Tlie i-e not per- ! chase out Endymioii 3d to niakc lied it was n so short, and sym- lould have how merry
, ''without
hmgh; "I he making
ippcned ? "
■ep it very s, what is
in my life,
stage, the a private t term at the twins, jence and Ibloom of [he twins lold to bo for Mrs. L'olls, and icept the
Fhortncss of tlic days ; but they found some compensation for tliis in their fre«iuent visits to the rectory, which was a cheerful and iisrroeablc home, full of stuffed birds, and dried phmts, and marveious fislies, and other innocent trophies and triumphs over nature.
CHAPTER XII I.
The tenant of the Manor Farm Avas a good specimen of his class; a thorough Saxon, ruddy and bright visagcd, with an athletic though rather bulky frame, hardened by exposure to the seasons and constant exercise. Although he was tlie tenant of several hundro . acres, he had an eye to the main chance in little things, whicli is a characteristic of farmers, but he was good-natured and obliging, and while he foraged their pony, furnished their woodyard with logs and fagots, and supplied them from his dairy, he gratuitously performed for tlie family at the hall many other offices whicli tended to their comfort and convenience, but which cost him nothing.
Mr. Fcrrars liked to have a chat every now and then with Farmer Thornberry, who had a shrewd and idiomatic style of expressing his limited, but in its way complete, experience of men and things, which was amusing and interesting to a man of tlic world whose knowledge of rural life was mainly derived from grand shooting parties at great houses.
The pride and torment of Farmer Tliornberry's life was his onlv child, Job.
'* I gave him the best of educations," said tl.o fai lucr ; '' he had a much better chance than I had myself, for I do not pre- tend to be a scholar, and never was ; and yet I can not make head or tail of him. I wish you would speak to uim some day, sir. lie goes against the land, and yet we have been on it for three generations, and have nothing to complain of ; and he is a good farmer too, is Job, none bettor ; a little too fond of experimenting, but then he is young. But I am very much afraid he will leave me. I tliink it is this new thing the big-
m
EXDYMIOy.
i
:*ll I
I!
I
'
Avigs luive set up in Loiiclon tluit lias put liim wrong, for he \s always reading their papers."
" And what is that ? " said Mr. Ferrars.
*^ Well, they call themselves the Society for the DilTusioii of Knowledge, and Lord Brougham is at the head of it."
*' Ah ! he is a dangerous man," said Mr. Ferrars.
"Do you know, I think he is," said Farmer Thornhcrry, very seriously, *' and by this token — he says a knowledge of chemistry is necessary for the cultivation of the soil."
'' Brougham is a man who would say anything," said Mr. Ferrars, "and of one thing yoi. may be quite certain, that there is no subject which Lord Brougham knows thoroughly. I liave proved that, and if you ever have time some winter evening to read something on the matter, I will lend you a number of the ' Quarterly Keview,' which might interest you."
"I wish you Avould lend it to Job," said the farmer.
Mr. Ferrars found Job not so manageable in controversy as his father. His views were peculiar, and his conclusions cer- tain. He had more than a smattering too of political economy, a kind of knowledge which Mr. Ferrars viewed with suspicion ; for though he had himself been looked upon as enlightened in this respect in the last years of Lord Liverpool, when Lord Wallace and Mr. Tluskisson were astonishing the world, ho had relapsed, after the schism of the Tory party, into ortho- doxy, and was satisfied that the tenets of the economists were mere theories, or could only be reduced into practice by revo- lution.
" But it is a pleasant life, that of a farmer," said Mr. Fer- rars to Job.
" Yes, but life should be something more than pleasant," said Job, who always looked discontoutcd ; "an ox in a pasture has a pleasant life. "
"Well, and why should it not bo a profitable one, too ?" said Mr. Ferrars.
" I do not see my way to that," said Job, moodily ; " there is not much to be got out of the land at any time, and still less on the terms we hold it."
" But you are not high-rented !"
JOB'S opixioys.
53
, for he IS
Diffusiou it."
lornbcrry,
.vlcdgc of 1
' said Mr. tain, that loroughly. me winter end you a ;rest you." ler.
:roycrsy as
Lisions cer-
i economy,
suspicion ;
ilightcncd
hen Lord
world, ho
ito ortho-
nists were
e by rcvo-
Mr. Fcr-
)leasant," a pasture
10, too?"
'' there still less
1
•
" Oil, rent is nothing, if everything else were right, but notliing is right," said Job. " In the lirst place, a farmer is ilio only trader who has no security for his cajiital."
''All ! you want a lease ? "
" I should bo very sorry to have a lease like any that I have seen," replied Job. *' We had one once in our famil}-, and wo keep it as a curiosity. It is ten skins long, and more tyranni- cal nonsense was never engrossed by man."
" But your family, I believe, has been on this estate for generations now," said Mr. I'crrars, "and they have done well."
"■ They have done about as well as their stock. They have existed," said Job ; '' nothing more."
*• Your father always gives me (|uito the idea of a prosper- ous man," said Mr. Ferrars.
'' "Whether he be or not I am sure I can not say," said Job ; " for as neither he nor any of his predecessors ever kept any accounts, it is rather difficult to ascertain their exact condition. So long as he lif.s money enough in his pocket to pay his labor- ers and buy a little stock, my father, like every British farmer, is content. The fact is, he is a serf as much as his men, and until we got rid of feudalism he will remain so."
*• These are strong pinions," said Mr. Ferrars, drawing himself up, and looking a little cold.
'• Yes, but they will make their way," said Job. *' So far as I myself am concerned, I do not much care what ha])pens to the land, for I do not mean to remain on it ; but I care for tlie country. For the sake of the country I should like to see the wliole thing upset."
" What thing ?" asked :Mr. Ferrars.
"Feudalism," said Job. '^ I should like to see this estate manjiged on the same principles as they do their great estab- lishments in the north of England. Instead of feudalism, I would substitute the commercial i»rinciple. I would have long leases without covenants ; no useless timber, and no game."
'* AVhy, you would destroy the country," said ^Ir. Ferrars.
'' We owe everything to the large towns," said Job.
*'The i)eoi)le in the large towns are miserable," said Mr, Ferrars.
■I
u
ENDYMIOX.
" Tliey can not be more miserable than the people in the country," said Job.
*' Their wretchedness is notorious," said Mr. Ferrars. *' Look at their riots."
"Well, we had Swing in the country only two or three years ago."
Mr. Ferrars looked sad. The reminiscence was too near and too fatal. After a pause he said with an air of decision, and as if imparting a state secret, " If it were not for the agri- cultural districts, the King's army could not be recruited."
" Well, that would not break my heart," said Job.
*' Why, my good fellow, you are a Radical ! "
^' They may call me what they like," said Job ; *''but it will not alter matters. lIoAvever, I am going among the Radicals soon, and then I shall knoAV what they are."
"And can you leave your truly respectable j^arent ?" said ]\Ir. Ferrars ratlier solemnly, for he remembered his promise to Farmer Tliornbcrry io speak seriously to his son.
" Oh ! my respectable parent will do very well without me, sir. Only let him be able to drive into Bamford on market day, and get two or three linendrapers to take their hats off to him, and he will be ha^tpy enough, and always ready to die for our glorious Constitution."
CHAPTER XIV.
Eighteen hundred and thirty-two, the darkest and most distressing year in the life of Mr. Ferrars, closed in com- parative calm and apparent content. He was himself greatly altered, both in manner and appearance. He was kind and gentle, but he was silent, and rarely smiled. His hair was grizzled, and he began to stoop. But ho was always employed, and was interested in his labors.
Ilis sanguine wife bore up against their misfortunes with far more animation. She was at first amused with her new life, and when she was accustomed to it, she found a never-
''LOOK OUT FOR SQUALLS^
55
•le in the
Ferrars.
or tlirec
too near decision, the agri- ited."
)iit it will J Radicals
lit ? " said )romise to
hout me,
n market
ats off to
0 die for
vest and in com- f greatly ind and uiir was nployed,
aes with her new a never-
failing resource in her conviction of a coming reaction. Mrs. Ferrars possessed most feminine qnalities, and many of them in excess. She could not reason, but her intuition was remark- able. She was of opinion that "these people never could go on," and that they must necessarily be succeeded by William and his friends. In vain her husband, when she pressed her views and convictions on him, would shake his head over the unprecedented majority of the government, and sigh wliile he acknowledged that the Tories absolutely did not now command one-fifth of the House of Commons ; his shakes and sighs were equally disregarded by her, and she persisted in her dreams of riding upon elephants.
After all Mrs. Ferrars was right. There is nothing more remarkable in political history than the sudden break-up of the "Whig party after their successful revolution of 1833. It is one of the most striking instances on record of all the elements of political power being useless without a commanding individual will. During the second year of their exile in the Berkshire hills, affairs looked so black that it seemed no change could occur except further and more calamitous revolution. Zcnobia went to Vienna that she might breathe the atmosj)here of law and order, and ninted to Mrs. Ferrars that probably she should never return — at least not until Parliament met, when she trusted the House of Lords, if they were not abolished in the interval, would save the country. And yet at the commence- ment of the following year an old colleague of ]\Ir. Ferrars ap- prised him, in the darkest and the deepest confidence, that *•' there Avas a screw loose," and he must '' look out for squalls."
In tlie mean time Mr. Ferrars increased and established his claims on his party, if they ever did rally, by his masterly arti- cles in their great Eeview, which circumstances favored, and which kept up that increasing feeling of terror and despair which then was deemed necessary to the advancement of Con- servative opinions.
At home a year and more had clai).sed witliout change. The occasional appearance of Nigel Pcnruddock was the only event. It was to all a pleasing, and to some of tlic family a deeply interesting one. Nigel, though a student and devoted
56
endymion:
I
to the holy profession for which lie was destined, was also a sportsman. His Christianity was muscular, and Endymion, to whom he had taken a fancy, became the companion of his jiastimes. All the shooting of the estate was at Nigel's com- mand, but as there were no keepers, it was of course very rough work. Still it was a novel and animating life for Endymion ; and though the sport was slight, the pursuit was keen. Then Nigel was a great fisherman, and here their efforts had a surer return, for they dwelt in a land of trout streams, and in their Yicinity was a not inconsiderable river. It was an adventure of delight to pursue some of these streams to their source, throwing, us they rambled on, the fly in the rijopling waters. Myra, too, took some pleasure in these fishing expeditions, car- rying their luncheon and a German book in her wallet, and sitting quietly on the bank for hours, when they had fixed uj)on some favored pool for a prolonged campaign.
Every time that Nigel returned home, a difference, and a striking difference, was observed in him. His person, of course, became more manly, his manner more assured, his dress more modish. It was impossible to deny that he was extremely good-looking, interesting in his discourse, and distinguished in his appearance. Endymion idolized him. Nigel was his model. lie imitated his manner, caught the tone of his voice, and began to give opinions on subjects, sacred and profane.
After a hard morning's march, one day, as they were lolling on the turf amid the old beeches and the juniper, Nigel said —
** What docs Mr. Fcrrars mean you to be, Endymion ?"
'*I do not know," said Endj^mion, looking perplexed.
'* But I suppose 3^ou are to be something ? "
*' Yes ; I suppose I must be something ; because papa has lost his fortune."
*' And what would you like to be ?"
*'I never thought about it," said Endymion.
**In my opinion there is only one thing for a man to be in this age," said Nigel peremptorily; "he should go into the Church."
" The Church ! " said End3'mion.
*' There will soon be nothing else left," said Nigel. ** The
NIGEL AND EXDYMIOX.
6T
was also a Indymion, ion of his gel's com- '^ery rough ndymion ; in. Then ad a surer id in their adventure ir source, ig Avaters. tions, car- -allet, and ixed u2ion
ICC, and a of course, Ircss more extremely inguished 1 was his
lis voice, ofane.
■e lolling ^el said —
on ? "
ud.
papa has
to be in into the
i
i
((
Tho
Church must last for ever. It is built upon a rock. It was founded by God ; all other governments have been founded by men. When they are destroyed, and the process of destruction seems rapid, there will be nothing left to govern mi.nivind ex- cept the Church."
"Indeed!" said Endymion ; ''papa is very much in faA'or of the Church, and, I know, is writing something about it."
"Yes, but Mr. Ferrars is aii Erastian," said Nigel ; "you need not tell him I said so, but he is one. lie wants the Church to be the servant of the State, and all tluit sort of tiling, but that will not do any longer. This destruction of the Irish bishoprics has brought affairs to a crisis. No human power has the right to destroy a bishopric. It is a divincl}'" ordained office, and when a dioccso is once established, it is eternal."
" I see," said Endymion, much interested.
" I wish," continued Nigel, "you were two or three years older, and Mr. Ferrars could send you to Oxford. That is the place to understand these things, and they will soon bo the only things to understand. The rector knows nothing about them. My father is thoroughly high and dry, and has not th j slightest idea of Church principles."
" Indeed !" said L..dymion.
"It is quite a new set even at Oxford," continued Nigel ; "but their principles are as old as the Apostles, and come down from them straight."
" That is a long time ago," said Endymion.
" I have a great fancy," continued Nigel, without ap[):ir- cntly attending to him, "to give you a thorough Church edu- cation. It would be the making of you. You would the;i have a purpose in life, and never be in doubt or i)erplexity on any subject. "We ought to move heaven a?id earth to iuduco Mr. Ferrars to send you to Oxford."
"I will speak to Myra about it," said Endymion.
"I said something of this to your sister the other day," said Nigel, "but I fear she is terribly Erastian. However, I will give you something to read. It is not very long, but you
68
ENDYMIOK
can read it at your leisure, and then wc will talk over it after- ward, and perhaps I may give you something else."
Endyi.iion did not fail to give a report of this conversation and similar ones to his sister, for he was in the habit of telling her everything. She listened with attention, but not with interest to his story. Her expression was kind, but hardly serious. Her wondrous eyes gave him a glance of blended mockery and affection. *'Dear darling," she said, ''if you are to be a clergyman, I should like you to be a cardinal."
t H
; I
I'
CHAPTER XV.
The dark deep hints that had reached Mr. Ferrars at the beginning of 1834 were the harbingers of startling events. In the spring it began to be rumored among the initiated, that the mighty Eeform Cabinet with its colossal majority, and its testimonial goblets of gold, raised by the penny subscriptions of a grateful people, was in convulsions, and before tiic month of July had elapsed Lord Grey had resigned, under circum- stances which exhibited the entire demoralization of his party. Except Zenobia, every one was of opinion that the King acted wisely in intrusting the reconstruction of the Whig ministry to his late Secretary of State, Lord Melbourne. Nevertheless it could no longer be concealed, nay, it was invariably admit- ted, that the political situation had been largely and most un- expectedly changed, and that there was a prospect, dim per- haps, yet not undefinable, of the conduct of public affairs again falling to the alternate management of two rival constitutional parties.
Zenobia was so full of hope, and almost of triumph, that she induced her lord in the autumn to assemble their political friends at one of his great seats, and Mr. and Mrs. Ferrars were urgently invited to join the party. But, after some hesitation, they declined this proposal. Had Mr. Ferrars been as sanguine as his wife, he would perhaps have overcome his strong disin- clination to reenter the Avorld, but though no longer despairing
A LETTER,
m
I' it aftcr-
.vcrsation of telling not with it hardly blended If you are
ars at the
ents. In
ited, that
y, and its
pcriptions
0 month
circum-
s party.
ing acted
ministry
ertheless
y admit-
iiost nn-
im per-
rs again
tutional
)h, that
bolitical
irs were
[itation,
^nguine
disin-
lair.'ng
of a Tory revival, he was of opinion that a considerable period, even several years, must elapse before its occurrence. Striinge to say, he found no difficult}' in following his own humor through any contrary disposition on the part of Mrs. Ferrars. With all her ambition and passionate love of society, she was unwilling to return to that stage, where she once had blazed, in a subdued and almost subordinate position. In fact, it was an affair of the wardrobe. The queen ot costumes, whose fanciful and gorgeous attire even Zenobia was wont to praise, could not endure a reai)pearance in old dresses. ''I do not so much care about my jewels, "William," she said to her husband, ''but one must have new dresses."
It Avas a still mild day in N"ovembor, a month whicli in the country, and especially on the light soils, has many charms, and the whole Ferrars family were returning home after an afternoon ramble on the chase. The leaf had changed but had not fallen, and the vast sjiiral masses of the dark-green juniper effectively contrasted with the rich brown foliage of the beech, varied occp^ionally by the scarlet leaves of the wild cherry tree, that always mingles v ith these woods. Around the house Avere some lime trees of lar/;e size, and at this period of the year, their foliage, still perfect, vas literally quite golden. They seemed like trees in some fairy tale '^f imprisoned princesses or wander- ing cavaliers, and such they would remain, until the fatal night that brings the first frost.
'•'There is a parcel from London," said the servant to Mr. Ferrars, as they entered the house. *'It is on your desk."
A parcel from London was one of the great events of their life. What could it be ? Perhaps some proofs, probably some books. Mr. Ferrars entered his room alone. It was a very small brown paper parcel, evidently not books. He opened it hastily, and disencumbered it jontents of several coverings. The contents took the form of a letter — a single letter.
The handwriting was recognized, and he read the letter with an agitated countenance, and then he opened the door of his room, and called loudly for his wife, who was by his side in a few moments.
"A letter, my love, from Barron," ho cried.
"The King
CO
EXD YJJIOy.
■' 1 i
has dismissed Lord Melbourne and sent for the Duke of Wel- lington, who has accepted the conduct of affairs."
"You must go to town directly," said his wife. "He offered you the Cabinet in 1832. No person has such a strong claim on him as you have."
*' It docs not appear that he is exactly prime minister," said Mr. Ferrars, looking again at the letter. " They have sent for Peel, who is at Rome, but the Duke is to conduct the govern- ment till ho arrives."
"You must go to town immediately," repeated Mrs. Ferrars. "There is not a moment to be lost. Send down to the Ilorso Shoe and t-ecure an inside place in the Salisbury coach. It reaches this place at nine to-morrow morning. I will have everything ready. You must take a portmanteau and a carpet- bag. I wonder if you could get a bedroom at the Hodneys'. It would be so nice to be among old friends ; they must feel for you. "And tb^'; it will be near the Carlton, which is a great thing. I wond> . w he will form his cabinet. "What a pity he is not here ! "
"It is a wonderful event, but the diflliculties must bo im- mense," observed Ferrars.
"Oh ! you ahvays see difficulties. I see none. The King is with us, the country is disgusted. It is what I always said would be ; the rcictlon is complete.'*
"Well, we had better now go and tell the children," said Ferrars. "I leavi) you all here for the first time," and he S3emed to sigh.
"Well, I hope we shall soon join you," said Mrs. Ferrars. " It is the very best time for hiring a house. What I have set my heart upon is the Green Park. It will be near your office, and not too near. I am sure I could not live again in a street."
The children were informed that public events of impor- tance had occurred, that the King had changed his ministry, and tluit papa must go up to town immediately and see the Duke of Wellington. The eyes of Mrs. Ferrars danced with cx(M Lenient as she communicated to them all this intelligence, and much more, with a volubility in which, of late years, she had rarely indulged. Mr. Ferrars looked grave and said little.
TEA VELING PRE PARA TIOXS.
61
lie
' errai's. lave set
office, street. " impor- nistry, see the d with igence, ,rs, she
little.
Then he patted Endymion on tlie head and kissed Myra, wlio returned his embrace with a warmth unusual witli lier.
The whole household soon became in a state of bustle with tlic preparations for tlie early doptirturo of Mr. Ferrars. It seemed difficult to comprehend how filling a portmanteau and a carpet-bag could induce such excited and continuous exer- tions. But then there was so much to remember, and then tliere was always sometliing forgotten. Mrs. Ferrars was in her bedroom, surrounded by all her maids ; Mr. Ferrars was in liis study, looking out some papers which it Avas necessary to take with him. The children were alone.
''I wonder if we shall be restored to our greatness," said Myra to Endymion.
*• Well, I shall be sorry to leaA'C the old place ; I have been hai»py here."
''I have not," said Myra; *Sind I do not think I could have borne this life had it not been for you." *
" It will be a wonderful cht,uge," said Endymio.i.
"If it come ; I fear papa is not daring enough. However, if we get out of this hole, it will be something."
Tea-time brought them all together again, but when the meal was over none of the usval occupations of the evening were pursued ; no work, no books, no reading aloud. Mr. Ferrars was to get up very early, and that Avas a reason for all retiring soon. And yet neither the husband nor the wife really cared to sleep. Mrs. Ferrars sat by the fire in his dressing- room, speculating on all possible combinations, and infusing into him all he^ suggestions and all her schemes. She was still prudent ana 3till would have preferred a great govern- ment— India, if possible — but had made up her mind that ho must accept the cabinet. Considering what had occurred in 1832, she thought he was bound in honor to do so. Her hus- band listened rather than conversed, and seemed lost in thought. At last he rose, and, embracing her with much af- fection, said : "You forget I am to rise witli the lark. I shall write to you every day. Best and dearest of women, you have ulwavs been right, and all my good fortune has come from you."
62 ENDYMWX.
ciiAPTEii xvr.
It was a very tedious journey, and it took the wliolc day to accomplish a distance Avliich a rapid express train now can acliievc in an hour. The coach carried six inside passengers, and they liad to dine on the road. All the passengers Avero strangers to Mr. Ferrars, and he was by them unknown ; one of them purchased, thougli with difficulty, a second edition of the ''Times" as they approached London, and favored his fel- low travelers with the news of the change of ministry. There Avas much excitement, and the purchaser of the paper gave it as. his opinion, ''that it was an intrigue of the Court and the Tories, and would never do." Another modestly intimated that he thought there was a decided reaction. A third an- nounced that England would never submit to be govcTued by O'Conneir.
As the gloom of evening descended, ^Mr. Ferrars felt de- pressed. Thougli his life at Ilurstley had been pensive and melancholy, lie felt now the charm and the want of that sweet domestic distraction which had often prevented his mind from overbrooding, and had softened life by sympathy in little things. Nor was it withoat emotion that he found himself again in London, that proud city where once he had himself been so proud. The streets were lighted, and seemed swarming with an infinite population, and the coach finally stopped at a great inn ill the Strand, where Mr. Ferrars thought it prudent to secure accommodation for the night. It was too late to look after the Rodneys, but in deference to the strict injunction of Mrs. Ferrars, he paid them a visit next morning on his way to his political chief.
In the days of the great modistes, when an English lady might absolutely be dressed in London, the most celebrated mantua-maker in that city was Madame Euphrosyne. She was as fascinating as she was fashionable. She was so graceful, her manners were so pretty, so natural, and so insinuating I She took so lively an interest in her clients — her very heart was in their good looks. She was a great favorite of Mrs. Fer-
SYL VIA.
63
) clay to ow can scngcrs, r.s ■vvcrc 'n ; Olio itioii of
his fel- Thcrc
gave it xvA the tiinatcd lird an- I'licd by
felt tlc- ;ive and
t sweet id from
things, fgain in
)ecn so |ig "witli
a groat idcnt to
to look
;tion of
Avay to
^h hidy 3brated She [•aceful, lating I heart \s. Fer-
rars, and that hidy of Madame Euphrosyne. She assured Mrs. Ferrar.s that she was prouder of dressing Mrs. Ferrars than all the other fine ladies in London together, and Mrs. Ferrars be- lieved her. Unfortunately, Avhile in the way of making a large fortune, Madame Eui)hrosync, who Avas romantic, fell in love with, and married, a very handsome and worthless husband, whose good looks had obtained for him a position in the com- pany of Drury Lane Theatre, then a place of refined resort, which his abilities did not jus'ify. After ])illaging and plun- d« ring his wife for many years, he finally involved her in such engagements, that she had to take refuge in the Bank- ruptcy Court. Her business was ruined, and her si)irit was broken, and she died shortly after of adversity and chagrin. Her daughter Sylvia was then eighteen, and had inherited with the grace of her mother the beauty of her less reputable parent. Her figure was slight and undulating, and she was always exquisitely dressed. A brilliant complexion set off to advantage her delicate features, wliich, though serene, were not devoid of a certain expression of archness. Her white hands were delicate, her light eyes inclined to merriment, and her nose quite a gem, though a little turned up.
After their ruin, her profligate father lold lier that her face was her fortune, and that she must provide for herself, in which she would find no difficulty. But Sylvia, though she had never enjoyed the advantage of any training, moral or re- ligious, had no bad impulses even if she had no good ones, wa^s of a rather cold character, and extremely i)rudent. She re- coiled from the life of riot, and disorder, and irregularity, in wliicli she had unwittingly passed her days, and which had terminated so tragically, and she resolved to make an effort to secure for herself a different career. She had heard that Mrs. Ferrars was in want of an attendant, and she determined to apply for the post. As one of the chief customers of her mother, Sylvia had been in the frequent habit of waiting on that lady, with whom she had become a favorite. She was so pretty, and the only person who could fit Mrs. Ferrars. Her appeal, therefore, was not in vain ; it was more than success- ful. Mrs. Ferrars was attracted bv Svlvia. Mrs. Ft Tars was
64
EXD VMIOy.
I
magnificent, gcnorou's, and she liketl to be n patroness and fo be siiiTounded bv favorites. Slie determined that Sylvia sliould not sink into Ji menial poj.ition ; she adoi)tcd her as a Ininiblo friend, and one who every day became more regarded by her. Sylvia arranged Ker invitations to her receptions, a task which rcfinired finish and precision ; sometimes wrote hc-r noles. She spoke and wrote French, too, and that was useful, was a mu- sician, and had a jiretty voice. Above all, she was a first-rate counselor in costume ; and so, looking also after Mrs. Ferrars' dogs and birds, she became almost one of the family ; dined with them often when they were alone, and was frequently Mrs. Ferrars' companion in her carriage.
Sylvia, though not by nature impulsive, really adored her j)atroness. She governed her manners and she modeled her dress on that great original, and, next to Mrs. Ferrars, Sylvia in time became nearly the finest lady in London. There was, indeed, much in Mrs. Ferrars to captivate a person like Sylvia. Mrs. Ferrars was beautiful, fashionable, gorgeous, wonderfully cxi)ensive, and, where 3r taste was pleased, profusely gener- ous. Her winning manner was not less irresistible because it was sometimes uncertain, and she had the art of being intimate without beirf familiar.
When the crash came, Sylvia was really broken-hearted, or •believed she was, and imi)lored that she might attend the de- posed sovereigns into exile ; but that was impossible, howcA'cr anxious they might be as to the future of their favorite. Her destiny Avas sooner decided than they could have anticipated. There was a member of the household, or rather family, in Hill Street who bore almost the same relation to Mr. Ferrars as Syl- via to his wife. This was Mr. Eodney, a remarkably good- looking person, by nature really a little resembling his princi- pal, and completing the resemblance by consummate art. The courtiers of Alexander of Macedon could not study their chief with more devotion, or more sedulously imitate his mien and -carriage, than did Mr. Rodney that distinguished individual of whom he was the humble friend, and who he was convinced was destined to be the Prime Minister of England. Mr. Rod- ney was the son of the office-keeper of old Mr. Ferrars, and it
MR. liODXEY.
65
was tlic ambition of the father that liis son, for whom lie had secured a sound education, sliouUl become a member of the civil service. It had Ijccomc an ai)othcgm in the Ferrars family tiiat something? must be done for Kodney, and whenever tlic jipparent occasion failed, wliich was not unfrequent, old Mr. I'Vrrars used always to add, *' Never mind; so long as I live, liodney shall never want a home.'' The object of all this kind- ness, however, was little distressed by their failures in his pre- ferment, lie had implicit faith in the career of his friend and master, and looked forward to the time when it might not be inii)Ossible that he himself might find a haven in a commission- ership. Recently Mr. Fer'-ars had been able to confer on him a small post with duties not too engrossing, and which did not prevent his regular presence in Ilill Street, where he made himself generally useful.
If there were anything confideniial to be accomi)lisbed in their domestic life, everything might bo trusted to his discre- tion and entire devotion. He supervised the establishment without injudiciously interfering with the house-steward, copied secret papers for Mr. Ferrars, and when that gentleman was out of ofHce .ictcd as his private secretary. Mr. Kodney was the most official personage in the ministerial circle. lie considered human nature only with reference to office. No one was so intimately acquainted with all the details of the lesser patronage as himself, and his hours of study were passed in the pages of the '* Peerage " and in penetrating the mys- teries of the " Royal Calendar."
The events of 1832, therefore, to this gentleman wore scarce- ly a less severe blow than to the Ferrars family itself. Indeed, like his chief, he looked upon himself as the victim of a revo- lution. Mr. Rodney had always been an admirer of Sylvia, but no more. He had accompanied her to the theatre, and had attended her to the park, but this was quite under- stood on both sides only to be gallantry ; both, perhaps, in their prosperity, wdth respect to the serious step of life, had indulged in higher dreams. But the sympathy of sorrow is stronger than the sympathy of prosperity. In the dark- ness of their lives, each required comfort : he murmured some
C6
EXD YMIOy.
accents of tender solace, and Sylvia agreed to become Mrs. Rodney.
When tliey considered their position the prospect was not free from anxiety. To marry and then separate is, where there is affection, trying. His income would secure them little more tlian a roof, but how to live under that roof was a mystery. x''or her to become a governess, and for him to become a secre- tary, and to meet only on an occasional Sunday, was a sorry lot. And yet both possessed accomplishments or accpiircmonts Avhich ought in some degree to be productive. Rodney had ^ friend, and he determined to consult him.
That friend was no common person ; he was Mr. Vigo, by birth a Yorkshireman, and gifted with all the attributes, phys- ical and intellectual, of that celebrated race. At present he was the most fashionable tailor in London, and one whom many persons consulted. Besides being consummate in his art, Mr. Vigo had tlie reputation of being a man of singularly good judgment. lie was one who obtained influence over all with whom he came in contact, and as his business placed him in contact with various classes, but especially with the class so- cially most distinguished, his influence was great. The golden youth who repaired to his counters came there not merely to obtain raiment of the best material and the most perfect cut, but to see and talk with Mr. Vigo, and to ask his opinion on various points. There was a spacious room where, if they liked, they might smoke a cigar, and "Vigo's cigars" were some thing which no one could rival. If they liked to take a glass of hock with their tobacco, there was a bottle ready from the cellars of Johannisberg. Mr. "r igo's stable was almost as famous as its master ; he drove the finest horses in London, and rode the best hunters in the Vale of Aylesbury. With all this, his manners were exactly what they should be. He was neither pretentious nor servile, but simple, and with becoming respect for others and for himself. He never took a liberty with any one, and such treatment, as is generally the case, was reciprocal.
Mr. Vigo was much attached to Mr, Rodney, and was proud of his intimate acq^uaintance with him. He wanted a friend
MR. VIGO.
(SI
ne Mrs.
was not ire there tic more nystcry. a sccre- 3 a sorry remcnts iy liad a
Vigo, by
;s, phys-
3sent he
D whom
1 his art,
rly good
all with
him in
3lass .so-
3 golden
erely to
ct cut,
lion on
if they
" were
take a
from
ost as
ondon,
ith all
Ic was
oming
liberty
|se, was
l)roud I friend
h
4
I
not of his own order, for that would not increase or improve his ideas, but one conversant with the habits and feelings of a superior class, and yet he did not want a fine gentleman for an intimate, who would have been either an insolent patron or a designing parasite. Rodney had relations with the aristocracy, with the political world, and could feel the pulse of public life. His appearance was engaging, his manners gentle if not gentle- manlike, and he had a temper never disturbed. This is a quality highly appreciated by men of energy and fire, uLo may happen not to have a complete self-control.
When Rodney detailed to his friend the catast; oi)he that had occurred and all its sad consequences, Mr. Vigo heard him in silence, occasionally nodding his head in sympathy or appro- bation, or scrutinizing a statement with his keen hazel eye. When his visitor had finished, he said —
"When there has been a crash, there is nothing like a change of scene. I i)ropose that you and Mrs. Rodney should come and stay with me a week at my house at Barnes, and there a good many things may occur to us." •
And so, toward the end of the week, when the Rodneys had exhausted their whole programme of projects, against every one of which there seemed some invincible objection, their host said, "You know I rather speculate in houses. I bought one last vear in "Warwick Street. It is a large roomv liouse in a quiet situation, though in a bustling quarter, just where mem- bers of Parliament would like to lodge. I have i)ut it in thorougli repair. Wluit I propose is that you should live there, let the first and second floors — they are equally good — and live on the ground floor yourselves, which is amply convenient. We will not talk about rent till the year is over and we see how it answers. Tlu house is unfurnished, but that is nothing. I will introduce you to a friend of mine who will furnish it for you solidly and handsomely, you paying a percentage on the amount expended. He will want a guarantee, but of course I will be that. It is an experiment, but try it. Try it for a year; at any rate you will be a householder, and you will have the opportunity of thinking of something else."
Hitherto the Rodneys had Ixjcn successful in their enter-
■C8
ENLYMIOX,
% %■
I I'l
if! 3
prist', and the soundness of Mr. Vigo's advice had been j)roved. Their house Avas full, and of the best tenants. Their first fioor was taken by a distinguished M. P., a county member of repute whom Mr. Rodney had known before the " revolution," and who was so jileased with his quarters, and the comfort and refine- ment of all about him, that to insure their constant enjoyment he became a yearly tenant. Their second floor, which was nearly as good as their first, was inhabited by a young gentleman of fashion, who took them originally only by the week, and who was always going to give them up, but never did. The weekly lodger went to Paris, and he went to CJcrman baths, and he went to country houses, and he was frerpiently a long time away, but he never gave up his lodgings. When there- fore Mr. Ferrars called in Warwick Street, the truth is the house was full and there was no vacant room for him. But this the Rodneys would not admit. Though they Avere Avorldly l^eople, and it seemed impossible that anything more could be gained from the ruined house at Ilurstley, they had, like many other people, a superstition, and their superstition Avas an ado- ration of the family of Ferrars. The sight of their former master, who, had it not been for the revolution, might have been Prime Minister of England, and the recollection of their former mistress and all her splendor, and all the rich dresses which she used to giA'C so profusely to her dependent, quit'^ OA'crwhelmed them. Without consultation this sympathizing couple leaped to the same conclusion. They assured Mr. Fer- rars they could accommodate him, and that he should find CA'erything prepared for him Avhen he called again, and they resigned to him, Avithout acknoAvledging it, their oaa'u commo- dious and Avell-furnished chamber, Avhicli Mrs. Rodney prepared for kim with the utmost solicitude, arranging his writing-tiible and materials as he used to Iuiat them in Hill Street, and shoAr- ine: by a varietv of modes she remembered all his AA'av>.
f
I
THE CARL Toy CLUB.
6^
CHAPTER XVII.
4
After securing his room in Warwick Street, Mr. Ferrars culled on his political chiefs. Though engrossed with affairs, tlie moment his card Avas exhibited he Avas seen, cordially wel- comed, and addressed in confidence. Xot only were his claims acknowledged without being preferred, but an evidently ear- nest hope was expressed that they might be fully satisfied. Xo one had suffered more for the party and no one had worked harder or more elfectively for it. But at present nothing could be done and nothing more could be said. All depended on Peel. Until he arrived nothing could bo arranged. Their duties were limited to provisionally administering the affairs of the country until his appearance.
It was many days, even wrecks, before that event could happen. The messenger would travel to Rome night and day, but it was calculated that nearly three weeks must elapse be- fore his return. Mr. Ferrars then went to the Carlton Club, which he had assisted in forming three or four years before, and had established in a house of moderate dimensions in Charles Street, St. James. It was called then the Charles Street gang, and none but the thorough-going cared to belong to it. Xow he found it flourishing in a magnificent mansion on Carlton Terrace, while in very sight of its windows, on a plot oi ground in Pall Mall, a palace was rising to receive it. It counted already fifteen hundred members, who had been selected by an omniscient and scrutinizing committee, solely with reference to their loc:d influence throughout the country, and the books ircre overflowing with impatient candidates of rank, and wealth, and power.
Three years ago Ferrars had been one of the leading spirits of this great i;onfederaL y, and now he entered the superb cliani-
. and i uo him thai he did not recognize a human
Ining. Yet it was full to overflowing, and excitement, and anxiety, and bustle were impressed on every countenance. If ho luid heard some of the whispers and remarks, as he entered uiul moved about, his self-complacency would scarcely have been gratified.
70
ENDYMIOK
t
■
" Who is that ? " inquired a young M. P. of a brother sena- tor not much more experienced.
" Have not the remotest idea ; never saw him before. Bar- ron is speaking to him ; he will tell us. I say, Barron, who is your friend ? "
" That is Ferrars ! "
*' Ferrars ! who is he ? "
'' One of our best men. If all our fellows luid fought like him against the Reform Bill, that infernal measure would never have been carried."
" Oh ! ah ! I remember something now," said tlie young M. P., " but anything that happened before the election of '32 I look upon as an old almanac."
However, notwithstanding the first and painful impression of strangers and strangeness, when a little time had elapsed, Ferrars found many friends, and among the most distinguished 2ire5ent. Nothing could be more hearty than their greeting, and he had not been in the room half an hour before he had accepted an invitation to dine that very day with Lord Pomeroy.
It Avas a large and rather miscellaneous party, but all of the right kidney. Some men who had been cabinet ministers, and >ome Avho expected to be ; several occupiers in old daj^s of the secondary offices ; both the whips, one noisy and the other myfterioup : several lawyers of repute who must be brought into Parliament, and some young men who had distinguished themselves in the reformed house iMid whom Ferrars had never seen before. '-It is like old days," said tlie husband of Zeno- Ua to Ferrars. who sat next to him ; ''I hope it will float, but we shall know notliing till Peel comes."
" He will have difficulty with his cabinet, so far as the House of Commons is concerned," said an old privy councilor. ''They must have seats, and his choice is \ery limited."
"Ho will dissolve," said the husband of Zenobia. "lie must. "
" Whcugh ! " said the privy councilor, and he shrugged his shoulders.
"The old story will not do," said the husband of Zenobia.
I
|
1 of the |
1 |
|
! other |
^ * * |
|
roiight |
|
|
nished |
|
|
never |
|
|
' Zeno- |
|
|
\t, but |
|
|
xs the |
[* |
|
icilor. |
|
|
'aio |
|
|
Dd his |
2 J |
GLOOMY PROSPECTS.
71
liobia.
" We must have new blood. Peel must reconstruct on a broad basis."
" "Well, they say there is no lack of converts," said the old privy councilor.
All this, and much more that he heard, made Ferrars pon- der, and anxiously. No cabinet without Parliament. It was but reasonable. A dissolution was therefore in his interest. And yet, what a prospect ! A considerable expenditure, and yet with a considerable expenditure a doubtful result. Then reconstruction on a broad basis — what did that mean ? Neither more nor less than rival candidates for ofRce. There was no lack of converts. He dare say not. A great deal had developed since his exile at Ilurstley — tilings which are not learned by newspapers, or even private correspondence. He spoke to Bar- ron after dinner. He had reason to believe Barron was his friend. Barron could give no opinion about dissolution ; all depended on Peel. But they were acting, and had been acting for some time, as if a dissolution were on the cards. Ferrars had better call aj)on him to-morroAv, and go over the list, and see what could be done for him. He had every claim.
Tlie man with every claim called on Barron on the morrow, and saw his secret list, and listened to all his secret prospects and secret plans. There was more tlian one manufacturing town where there was an opening; decided loaction, and a genuine Conservative feeling. Barron had no doubt, that al- tlioiigh a man might not get in the first time he stood, he would ultimately. Ultimately was not a word which itiited ^Ir. Ferrars. There were several old boroughs "\>'hcre the free- men still outnumbered the ten-pounders, and Avlierc the pros- pects were more than encouraging ; but the expense was equal to the goodness of the chance, and although Ferrars had every claim, and would no doubt be assisted, still one could not shut one's eyes to the fact that the personal expenditure must be considerable. The agricultural boroughs must be fought, at least this time, by local men. Something might be done with an Irish borough ; expense, comparatively speaking, inconsider- able, but the politics deeply Orange,
Gloom settled on the countenance of this spoiled child of
Y2
EXDYMIOy.
'f.\
politics, who had always sat for a close borough, and who re- coiled from a contest like a woman, when he jiictured to liim- self the struggle and exertion and personal suffering he would have to encounter and endure, and then with no certainty of success. The trained statesman, who had anticipated tlie mass of his party on Catholic emancipation, to become an Orange candidate ! It was worse than making speeches to ten-pound- ers and canvassing freemen !
"I knew things were difScult," said Ferrars ; ''but I was in hopes that there Avere yet some seats that we might com- mand."
"No doubt there are," said Mr. Barrou ; ''but they are few, and they are occupied— at least at present. But, after all, a thousand things may turn up, and you may consider nothing definitively arranged till Sir Robert arrives. The great thing is to be on the spot."
Ferrars wrote to his wife daily, and kept her minutely ac- quainted with the course of affairs. She agreed with Barron that the great thing was to be on the spot. She felt sure that something would turn up. She was convinced that Sir Robert would send for him, offer him the Cabinet, and at the same time provide him with a seat. Her own inclination was still in fa- vor of a great colonial or foreign appointment. She still han- kered after India ; but if the cabinet were offered, as was cer- tain, she did not consider that William, as a man of honor, could refuse to accept the trust and share the peril.
So Ferrars remained in London under the roof of the Rod- neys. The feverish days passed in the excitement of political life in all its manifold forms, grave council and light gossip, dinners with only one subject of conversation, and that never palling, and at last, even evenings spent again under the roof of Zenobia, who, the instant her winter apartments were ready to receive the world, had hurried up to London and raised her standard in St. James' Square. " It was like old days," as her husband had said to Ferrars v/lien they met after a long separa- tion.
Was it like old days ? he thought to himself when he was alone. Old days, when the present had no care, and the future
FEE R A US RETUnXS HOME.
73
who rc- to him- lC would ;ainty of the mass Orange i-pound-
ut I was rht com-
thcy are
iter all, a
nothing
3at thing
was all hope ; when ho was proud, and justly proud, of the public position he had achieved, and of all the splendid and felicitous circumstances of life that had clustered round him. lie thought of those away, and with whom during the last three years he had so continuously and intimately lived. And his hired home that once had been associated only in his mind with exile, imprisonment, misfortune, almost disgrace, became hallowed by affections, and in the agony of the suspense, which now involved him, and to encounter which he began to think his diminished nerve unequal, lie w uild have bargained for the rest of his life to pass undisturbed in that sweet solitude, in the delights of study and the tranquillity of domestic love.
A little not unamiable weakness this, but it passed off in the morning like a dream, when Mr. Ferrars heard that Sir Piobert had arrived.
lutely ac- h Barron sure that lir Eobert ;ame time ill in fa- Istill han- was cer- if honor,
I the Rod- political it gossip, ^al: never the roof )re ready lised her ," as her separa-
|n he was
le future
ClIAPTEK XVIII.
It was a dark December niglit when ]\Ir. Ferrars returned to Iliirstlcy. Ilis wife, accompanied by the gardener with Or lantern, met liim on tlie green. She embraced him, and whis- pered, *•' Is it very bad, love ? I fear you liavc softened it to
me
g ?>
'•' By no means bad, and I told you the trutli ; not all, for had I, my letter would have been too late. lie said nothing about the cabinet, but offered me a high post in his govern- ment, provided I could secure my seat. That was impossible. During the montli I was in town I had realized that. I thought it best, therefore, at once to try the other tack, and nothing could be more satisfactory."
"Did you say anything about India ?'' she said in a very low voice.
"I did not. He is an honorable man, but ho is cold, and my manner is not distinguished for abandon. I thought it best to speak generally, and leave it to him. He acknowledged my claim, and my fitness for such posts, and said if his govern-
I* < .
Iji
I
74
FXU YMioy.
ment lusted it would gratify him to meet my -wishes. BaiTon .says the government will last. They will have a majority, and if Stanley and (Iraliam had joined them, they would have had not an inconsiderable one. But in that case I should probably not have had the cabinet, if indeed he meant to offer it to me
now.
'* Of course he did," said his wife
'' AVho has such claims as you have ? Well, now we must hope, and watch. Look cnecrful to the children, for they have been very anxious."
With this hint the meeting was not unhappy, and the evening passed with amusement and interest. Endymion em- braced his father with warmth, and Myra hissed him on both cheeks. Mr. Ferrars had a great deal of gossip which interest- ed his wife, and to a certain degree his children. The latter of course remembered Zenobia, and her sayings and doings were always amusing. There were anecdotes too of illustrious persons which always interest, especially when in the personal experience jI those with whom avo are intimately connected. What the Duke, or Sir Robert, or Lord Lyndhurst, said to papa seemed doubly wiser or brighter than if it had been said to a third person. Their relations with the world of power, and fashion, and fame, seemed not to be extinct, at least re- viving from their torpid cjndition. Mr. Ferrars had also brought a German book for Myra; and "as for you, Endym- ion," he said, '* I have been much more successful for you than for your father, though I hope I shall not have myself in the long run to complain. Our friends are faithful to us, and I have got you put down on the private list for a clerkship both in the Foreign Office and the Treasury. They are the two best things, and you Avill have one of the first vacancies that Avill occur in eitiier department. I know your mother wishes you to be in the Foreign Office. Let it be so if it come. I confess, myself, remembering j'our grandfather's career, I have always a weakness for the Treasury, but so long as I see you w^ell planted in Whitehall, I shall be content. Let me see, you will be sixteen in March. I could have wished you to wait another year, but we must be ready when the opening occurs."
The general election in 1834-'35, though it restored the bal-
4
THE MINISTRY SAXGUINE.
75
Barron
rity, and
luivc had
probiibly
it to me
L'h claims 1. Look
OllS,
and the mion cm- 1 on Ijotli 1 intcrcst- rho latter lid doings illustrious 3 personal connected. st, said to 1 been said of power, least re- had also Endym- yon than ,elf in the lis, and I ship both 0 two best that will ishes you I confess, TO always you well , you will
it another
J)
d the bal-
ance of parties, did not secure Sir Robert Peel a majority, and tlic anxiety of tlie family at Ilurstley was proportionate to the occasion. Barron was always sanguine, but the vote on the speakership could not but alarm them. Barron said it did not signify, and that Sir Robert had resolved to go on, and had confidence in his measures. Ilis measures were excellent, and Sir Robert never displayed more resource, more energy, and more skill, than he did in the spring of 1R35, But knowledge of human nature was not Sir Robert Peel's strong point, and it argued some deficiency in that respect, to suppose that the fit- ness of his measures could disarm a vindictive opposition. Oji the contrary they rather whetted their desire of revenge, and they were doubly loath that he should increase his reputation by availing himself of an opportunity which they deemed the Tory party had unfairly acquired.
After the vote on the speakership, ^Mr. Ferrars was offered a second-class West Indian government. His wife would not listen to it. If it were Jamaica, the offer might be considered, though it could scarcely be accepted without great sacrifice. The children, for instance, must bo left at home. Strange to say, Mr. Ferrars Avas not disinclined to accept the inferior post. Endymion lie looked upon as virtually provided for, and Myra, lie thouglit, might accompany them ; if only for a year. But ho ultimately yielded, though not without a struggle, to the strong feeling of his wife.
*^I do not see why I also should not be left behind," said Myra to her brother in one of their confidential walks. *' I should like to live in London lod2:in£fs with vou."
The approaching ap})ointment of her brother filled her from the first with the greatest interest. She was always talking of it when the} were alone — fancying his future life, and planning how it might Le happier and more easy. " My only joy in life is seeing you," she sometimes said, ''and yet this separation does not make me unhappy. It seerus a chance from heaven for you. I pray every night it may be the Foreign OlTice."
The ministry were still sanguine as to their prospects in the month of March, and they deemed that public opinion was rallying round Sir Robert. Perhaps Lord John Russell, who
7C
EXDYMIOy.
w;<s tliu It'iulcr of the oi»pojitiun, Tclt tliis, in some degree, liim- .seli", and he dtterniiued to bring ulTuirs to a crisis by notice of a motion respecting tlie ai>pro])riation of the revenues of the Irish Church. Tlicn Barron wrote to Mr. Ferrars that affairs did not look so well, and advised him to come up to town, and take anytliing that offered. ''It is something," he remarked, *'to have sometliing to give up. We shall not, I suppose, always be out of office, and they get preferred more easily Avliosc promotion contriljutes to patronage, even while tliey claim its exercise."
The ministry were in a minority on the Ir! h Church on April 2d, the day on which Mr. Ferrars arrived in town. They did not resign, but the attack was to be repeated in another form on the Gth. During the terrible interval Mr. Ferrars made distracted visits to Downing Street, saw secretaries of state, who syi..pathized with him notwithstanding their own chagrin, and was closeted daily and hourly with under-secreta- rics, parliamentary and permanent, who really alike wished to serve him. But there was nothing to br had. He was almost meditating taking Sierra Leone, or the Cold Coast, when the resignation of Sir Robert Peel was announced. At the last moment, there being, of course, no vacancy in the Foreign Otfiee or the Treasury, he obtained from Barron an ai)point- ment for Endymion ; and so, after having left Ilurstley five months before to become (iovcrnor-General of India, this man, "who had claims," returned to his mortified home with a clerkship for his son in a second-rate 'lovernment office.
CHAPTER XIX.
Disappointment and distress, it might be said despair, seemed fast settling again over the devoted roof of Ilurstley af- ter three years' truce of tranquillity. Even the crushing termi- nation of her worldly hopes was forgotten for the moment by ^Irs. Ferrars in her anguish at the prospect of separation from Endymion. Such a catastrophe she had never for a moment
EXD YMIOX'S A PPOLVniEy T.
k I
ec, liim- lotico ol' IS of the ,t affairs i\vn, tiiid marked, suppose, re easily lile they
iiirch on
1. They
another
Ferrars
itaries of
licir own
r-secrcta-
ivishcd to
as ahnost
'hen the
the hist
Foreign
ajipoint-
;tley tive
his man,
Avith a
[despair, stley af- termi- lent by ki from homent
contcmphitcd. Tine it was she liad heen deliglited witli the Fcheine of his entering the Foreign Ollice, but that was on the assumption tliat she was to cntor ofhee liersilf, and tliat, wliat- cver might be the >conG of the daily hibors of licr darling eliihl, her roof sliould ])e liis home, and licr indulgent care alw;iys at his command. But tluit fr^he was absolutely to part with En- dvmion. and that, at liis tender afije, he was to be launched alone into the wide worhl, was an idea tliat ,-he could not en- tertain or even comprehend. AViio was to ( othe him, and feed him, and tend him. and >ave him from Ijcing run over, and guide and guard him in all the difhculties and dangers of this mundane existence ? It was nuidness, it was impossible. But Mr. Ferrari?, thougli gentle, was firm. Xo (hj'-.bt it was to be wished that the event eoukl have been post})oned for a year ; but its occurrence, unlets all prospect of establishment in life Averc surrendered, Avas inevitable, and a slight delay would hardly render the conditions under which it happened less try- ing. Though Endvmion Avas oidv sixteen, lie was tall and manly bevond his aw, and durimi the latter vears of his life hi.? naturally sweet temper and genial disposition had been Fchoolcd in self-discipline and self-sacrifiee. He Avas not to be Avholly left to strangers ; j\Ir. Ferrars had -poken to llodney about receiving him, at least for the present, and steps Avould be taken that those Avho presided oa er his otlice Avould be inllu- enccd in his favor. The appointment Avas certainly not e(|ual to Avhat had been originally anticipated ; but still the depart- ment, though not distinguished, Avas highly respectable, and there Avas no reason on earth, if the opportunity offered, that Endvmion should not be remoA'ed from his present post to one in the higher departments of the state. But if this ojjcning Avere rejected, what Avas to be the future of their son ? 'I'hey could not afford to send him to the University, nor did ^Mr. Ferrars Avish him to take refuire in the bosom of the Church. As for the army, they had noAV no interest to acquire commis- sions, and if they could succeed so far, they could not make him an allowance Avliich Avould i)ermit him to maintaiji him- self as became his rank. The civil service remained, in uliieli his grandfather had been eminent, and in Avhich his oaa'u par-
T8
KXD YMIOy.
eat, ;it any rato, tlioiigh the victim ui" a revolution, luul not disgraced iiiniself. It s-eemcd, under tlie circumstances, tlie mitural avenue for tlieir child. At least, he thought it ought to be tried, lie Avished nothing to he settled without the full concurrence of Endyniion himself. The matter should be put fairly and clearly before him, '"and for this pur^jose," con- cluded Mr. Ferrars, *• I have just sent for him to my room ;" and he retired.
The interview between the father and son was long. When Kndymion left the room his countenance was pale, but its ex- l)ression was lirm and determined. lie went forth into the garden and there he saw Myra. '" llow long you have been ! " she said ; '" I have been watching for you. What is settled ?"
lie took her arm, and in silence led her away into one of the glades. Then he said : ''I have settled to go, and I am resolved, so long as I live, that J will never cost dear papa an- other shilling. Things here are very bad, quite as bad as you have sometimes fancied. Pnit do not say anything to poor mamma about them.*'
Mr. Ferrars resolved tliat Endymion shouhl go to London immediately, and the preparations for his departure were ur- gent. Myra did everything. If she had been the head of a family she could not have been more thoughtful or apparently more experienced. If she had a doubt, she stepped over to Mrs. Penruddock and consulted her. As for Mrs. Ferrars, she had become very unwell and unable to attend to anything. Her occasional interference, fitful and feverish, and without adequate regard to circumstances, only embarrassed them. But, generally speaking, she kept to her own room, and was always weeping.
The last day came. Xo one pretended not to be serious and grave. Mrs. Ferrars did not appear, but saAV Endymion alone.
She did not speak, but locked him in her arms for many minutes, and then kissing him on the forehead, and, by a gen- tle motion, intimating that he should retire, she fell back on her sofa with closed eyes. He was alone for a short time with his father after dinner. Mr. Ferrars said to him: ''I have treated you in this matter as a man, and I have entire confi-
IMOaEXE.
79
1, luul not ;iinc'cs, the t it ought lit the full uld l)e i)ut io.se," con- ly room ; "
ig. When but its cx- li into the ive been ! " 5 settled ? " into one of and I am ^1" })apa an- bad as you tig to i)Oor
to London
■c were nr-
licad of a
apparently
led over to
. Fcrrars,
anything.
d without
Iscd them.
[\, and was
Icrious and lion alone, for many by a gen- Ill back on I time with ''I have It ire confi-
%
donee in V(m. Your business in life is (o build up again a fam- ily which was once honored."
Myra was still coi)ying inventories when he returned to the drawing-room. ''These are for myself," she said, *' so I shall always know Avhat you ought to have. Though you go so ear- ly, I shall make your breakfast to-morrow," and, leaning back on the sofa, she took his hand. '* Things are dark, and I fancy they will be darker; but brightness will come, somehow or other, to you, darling, for you are born for brightness. Y(»u will find friends in life, and they will be women."
It was nearly three years since Endymion had ti-aveied dow'i to Hurstley by the same coach that was now carrying him to London. Though ajiparently so uneventful, the jjcriod had not been unimportant in the formation, doubtless yet partial, of his character. And all its influences had been bcnc(lci;i\ to him. The crust of pride and selfishness with which large pros- l)erity and illimitable indulgence had incased a kind, and far from presumptuous, disposition had ])een removed ; the domes- tic sentiments in their sweetness and i>urity had been devel- oped ; he had acquired some skill in scholarshij) and no incon- siderable fund of sound information ; and the routine of reli- gious tliought had been superseded in his instance by an amount of knowledge and feeling on matters theological, unusual at his time of life. Though ai)[)arently not gifted with any dan- gerous vivacity, or fatal facility of acquisition, his mind seemed clear and painstaking, and distinguished l)y common sense. He was brave and accurate.
Mr. Rodney was in waiting for him at the inn. Tic seemed a most distinguished ^rentleman. A hacknev-coach carried them to "Warwick Street, where he was welcomed bv ]\Irs. Kod- ney, Avho was exquisitely dressed. There was also her sister, a girl not older than Endymion, the very image of ^Irs. Rod- ney, except she was a brunette — a brilliant brunette. This sister bore the romantic name of Imogene, for Avhich she was indebted to lier father performing the part of the husband of the heroine in Maturin's tiagedy of the *' Castle of St. Al- dobrand," and which, under the inspiration of Kcan, had set the town in a blaze about the time of her birth. Tea was
80
EXDYMIOX.
\
t , I
jiwaiting li::/., and tlicrc was a mixture in their several manners of not ungraceful hospitality and the remembrance of past de- pendence, wliich Avas genuine and not uninteresting, though Endymion was yet too inexperienced to observe all this.
Mrs. Eodnoy talked very mucii of Endymion's mother ; her wondrous beauty, lier more wondrous dresses ; the splendor of lier fetes and equipages. As she dilated on tlie past, she seemed to share its luster and its triuni})hs. " The first of the land were always in attendance on her," and for Mrs. Rodney's part, she never saw a real horsewoman since her dc.r lady. Her sister did not speak, but listened with rapt attention to the gorgeous details, occasionally stealing a glance at Endym- ion— a glance of deep interest, of admiration mingled as it were both witli reverence and pity.
Mr. Eodney took up the conversation if his wife paused. lie spoke of all the leading statesmen Avho had been the habit- nal companions of Mr. Ferrars, and threw out several anecdotes resi)ecting them from jiersonal experience. ''I knew them all,"' continued Mr. Rodney, 'I might say intimately ; " and tlieri lie told his great anecdote, how he had been so fortunate as pcrliaps even to save the Duke's life during the Reform Bill riots. "Ilis Grace had never forgotten it, and only the day before yesterday I met him in St. James' Street walking with Mr. Arbuthnot, and he touched his liat to me."'
All this gossip and good nature, and the kind and lively scene, saved Endymion from the inevitable pang, or at least greatly softened it, which accompanies our first separation from liome. In due ser.son, Mrs. Rodney observed that she doubted not Mr. Endymion, for so they ever called him, must be ■wearied with his journey, and would '.ikc to retire to his room ; and her husband, immediately lighting Ji candle, prepared to introduce their new lodger to his quarters.
It Avas a tall house, which had recently been renovated, with a story added to it, and on this story was Endymion's chamber ; not absolutely a garret, but a modern substitute for that sort of a})artment. "Ii is rather high," said Mr. Rodney }ialf apologizing for the ascent, "but Mr. Ferrars himself cheso the room. "We took the liberty of ll'^hting a fire to-night."
AT SOMERSI-Jr UOUSE.
81
[ manners : past de- T, though lis.
thcr ; her )lcndor of past, she irst of the Eodncy's Icr lady. :cntion to ; Endym- ^Icd as it
'e paused, the habit- anecdotes new them 2ly ; " and fortunate form Bill y the day king Avith
md lively
(r at least
Ition from
doubted
must be
lis room ;
■pared to
hiovated, |lymion's titute for 1 Rodney. Iclf che ic rht."
And the cheerful blaze was welcome. It lit up a rnoni clean and not uncomfoi table. Feminine solicitude had lashionrd a toilet-table for him, and there was a bunch of geraniums in u blue vase on its si)arkling dimity garniture. " 1 sui)pose you have in your bag all that you want at present ?" said Mr. Kod- nev. " To-morrow we Avill unpack y(»ur trunks and arrange vonr things in their drawers; and after breakfast, if you please, I will show you your way to Somerset House."
Somcnet House ! thought Emlymion, as he stood l)eforc the lire alone. Is it so near as that ? To-morrow, and 1 am to be at Somerset House ! And then he thought of what they were doing at llurstley — of that terrible i)arting with his mother, which made him choke — and of his father's last words. And then he tliought of Myra, and the tears stole down his cheek. And then he knelt down l>y his bedside and i)rayed.
CHAPTER XX.
Mr. Rodxey Avould have accompanied Endymion to Som- erset House under any circumstances, but it so happened that ho had reasons of his own for a visit to that celebrated build- inir. He had occasion to see a gentleman who was stationed there. "Not," as he added to Endymion, '• that T know many here, but at the Treasury and in Downing Street I have several ac(juaintance3."
They separated at the door in the great quadrangle which led to the department to which Endymion Avas attached, and he contrived in due time to deliver to a messeuf^er a letter addressed to his future chief. lie was kept some time in a gloomy and almost unfurnished waiting-room, and his thoughts in a desponding mood Avere gathering round the dear ones Avho Avcrc distant, Avhen ho Avas summoned, and, following the mes- senger doAvn a passage, was ushered into a lively apartment on Avliieh the sun was shining, and Avhich, Avith its well-lined book- shelves, and tables coA'cred Avitli })apers, and bright noisy clock, and general air of habitation and business, contrasted favorably
!H
|1 !^
l!:«
r
1 1 ■;
82
ENDYMION.
Avitli the room be had jii^t (|uittcd. A good-natured-looking man held out his hand and welcomed him cordially, and said at once, '*I served, Mr. Ferrars, under your grandfather at the Treasur}', and I am glad to see you here." Then he spoke of the duties which Endymion would have at present to discharge. His labors at first would be somewhat mechanical ; they would require only correctness and diligence : but the otHce was a large one, and jn'omotion not only sure, but sometimes rapid, and as he was so young, he might with attention count on at- taining, while yet in the prime of life, a future of very respon- sible duties and of no inconsiderable emolument. . And while he was speaking he rang the bell and commanded the attend- ance of a clerk, under whose care Endymion was specially placed. This was a young man of pleasant address, who in- vited Endymion Avith kindness to accompany him, and leading him through several chambers, some capacious, and all full of clerks seated on high stools and Avriting at desks, finally ush- ered him into a smaller chamber where there were not above six or eight at Avork, and where there was a vacant seat. " This is your place," he said, ''and now I will introduce you to your future comrades. This is Mr. Jawett, the greatest Kadical of the age, and who, when he is President of the Republic, will I hope do a job for his friends here. This is Mr. St. Barbe, who, when the public taste has improved, will be the most popular author of the day. In the mean time he will give you a copy of liis novel, which has not sold as it ought to have done, and in which we say he has quizzed all his friends. This is Mr. Seymour Ilicks, who, as you must perceive, is a man of fash- ion." And so he went on, with what was evidently accustomed raillery. All laughed, and all said something courteous to Endymion, and then after a few minutes they resumed their tasks, Endymion's Avork being to copy long lists of figures, and routine documents of public accounts.
In the mean time Mr. St. Barbe was busy in draAving up a public document of a diUcreut but important character, and Avhicli Avas conceived something in this fashion :
"We, the undersigned, highly approA'ing of the personal ai)iiearancc and manners of our new colleague, arc unanimously
cd-looking
:, ami said
;hcr at the
le spoke of
discharge.
hey ^voidd
lice was a
mes rapid,
•unt on at-
iry rcspon-
Aiid while
he attcnd-
3 specially
js, who iii-
nd leading
all full of
iiially ush-
not above
.t. '-' This
oil to your
Ihidical of
blic, will 1
irbe, who,
>t popular
ou a copy
[done, and
lis is Mr.
In of fasli-
customcd
rteous to
mcd their
fures, and
ring up a jcter, aud
personal [nimously
i
JOE'S.
83
of opinion that he should be invited to join our symposium to- day at the immortal Joe's. * '
1'his was quietly passed round and signed by all present, and tlien given to Mr. Trenchard, who, all unconsciously to the copying Endymion, wrote upon it, like a minister of state, ''Approved,"' with his initial.
.Joe's, more technically known as ''The Blue Posts," was ti celebrated chop-house in Nascby Street, a large, low-ceilingcd, Avainscotcd room, with the floor strcAvn with sawdust, and a hissing kitchen in the center, and fitted up with what were called boxes, these being of various sizes, and suitable to the number of the guests requiring them. About this time the fashionable coffee-houses, George's and the Piazza, and even the cotree-rooms of Stevens' or Long's, had begun to feel the injurious competitions of the new clubs that of late years had been established ; but these, after all, were limited, and, com- paratively speaking, exclusive societies. Their influence had not touched the chop-houses, and it required another quarter of a century before their cheerful and hospitable roofs and the old taverns of London, so full, it ever seemed, of merriment and Avisdom, yielded to the gradually increasing but irresistible influence of those innumerable associations, which, under clas- sic names, or affecting to be the junior branches of celebrated confederacies, have since secured to the million, at cost price, all the delicacies of the season, and substituted for the zealous energy of immortal Joes the inexorable but frigid discipline of managing committees.
•'You are our guest to-day," said Mr. Trenchard to Endym- iou. "Do not be embarrassed. It is a custom Avith us, but not a ruinous one. We dine off the joint, but the meat is first- rate, and you may have as much as you like, and our ti})ple is half-and-half. Perhai)s you do not knoAV it. Let me drink to your health."
They ate most heartily ; but Avhen their Avell-earnod meal was dispatched, their conversation, assisted by a moderate portion of some celebrated toddy, became animated, various, and interest- ing. Endymion was highly amused •. but being a stranger, and the youngest present, his silence Avas not unbecoming, and his
Si
ENDYMIOX.
\
manner indicated that itwa.s not occasioned by want of sym- patliy. The talk was very political. They were all what are called Liberals, having all of them received their appointments since the catastrophe of 1830 ; but the shades in the color of their opinions Avcre various and strong. Jawett was uncom- promising ; rutlilessly logical, his principles being clear, he was for what he called "carrying them out" to their just conclusions. Trencliard, on the contrary, thought everything ought to be compromise, and that a public man ceased to be practical the moment he was logical. St. Barbo believed that literature and the arts, \d intellect generally, had as little to hope for from one par as from the other ; while Seymour llicks was of opinion tluu the Tories never would rally, owing to their deficiency in social iriflucnco-. Se3'mour Hicks some- times got an invitation to a ministerial soiree.
The vote of the House of Commons in favor of an appro- priation of the surplus revenues of the Irish Church to the purposes of secular education — a vote which had just changed the government and expelled the ies — was much discussed. Jawett denounced it as a miserable subterfuge, but with a mild- ness of manner and a mincing expression, which amusingly con- trasted Avitli the violence of his principles and the strength of his language.
'' The whole of the revenues of the Protestant Church should be at once appropriated to secular education, or to some other purpose of general utility,'' he said. '"Audit must come to this."
Trencliard thought the ministry had gone as far in this mat- ter as they well could, and Seymour Ilicks remarked that any Government Avliich systematically attacked the Church would luive "society" against it. Endymion, who felt very nervous, but Avho on Church questions had strong convictions, ventured to ask why the Church should be deprived of its property.
"In the case of Ireland," replied Jawett, cpiite in a tone of conciliatory condescension, "because it does not fulfill the pur- pose for which it was endowed, it ba-i got the property of the nation, and it is not the Charah of the people. But I go fur- ther than that. I vrouM disendow c vtu'} Church. They are not
AFTER-DIXXER TALK.
80
t of sym- ■\vhat are 3iiitmcntrf e color of IS imcom- clcar, ho tlieir just iverything isGcl to be cvcd tliat 1 as little 3 Seymour lly, owing cks somc-
an appro- •cli to tlie t clianged discussed, til a mild- ingly con- Itrcno'th of
•cli should
me other
It come to
this mat- that any [•ch would nervous, 1 ventured jerty. 1 a tone of the pur- ity of the ]l go fur- jy are not
productive institutions. There is no reason why they should exist. There is no use in them."'
' \o use in the Church !" said Endvmion, reddeninir ; but Mr. Trcnchard, who had tact, here interfered, and said, "I told you our friend Jawctt was a great IJadical ; but he is in a minority among us on there matters. Everybody, however, says what they like at Joe's."
Then they talked of theatres, and critically discussed tl\o articles in tlie daily papers and the last new book, and tliero was much discussion respecting a contemplated subscription boat ; but still, in general, it was remarkable how they relapsed into their favorite subject — speculation upon men in otlice, both permanent and parliamentary, upon their cliaracters and capacity, their habits and temi)ers. One was a good adminis- trator, another did nothing ; one had detail, another too much ; one was a screw, another a si)enaLhrif t ; this man could make a set speech, but could not reply ; his rival, capital at a reitly, but clumsy in a formal oration.
At this time London was a very dull city, instead of being, as it is now, a very amusing one. Probably there never was a city in the world, with so vast a population, Avhich was so mel- ancholy. The aristocracy pi'obably have always found amuse- ments adapted tn the manners of the time and the age in Avhich they liA'ed. The middle classes, half a century ago, had little distraction from their monotonous toil and melancholy anx- ieties, except, perhaps, what they found in religious and philan- thropic societies. Their general life must have been very dull. Some traditionary merrin i. ;it always lingered among the work- ing classes of England. Both in town and country tliey had always their games and fairs and junketing parties, which have developed into excursion trains and colossal picnics. But of all classes of the community, in the days of our fathers, there was none so unfortunate in respect of public amusements as the bach- elors about toAvn. There were, one might almost say, only two theatres, and they so huge, tliat is was dilHcult to see or hear in either. Tht \ monopolies, no longer redeemed by the stately genius of tlie KembL'S, the i)athos of Miss O'Neill, or the fiery passion of Kean, were already menaced, and were soon about
m
If!
86
E^ D YMIOX.
to full ; but tlic croAvd of diniinutivo Init sparkling substitutes, which have since tiikcn their place, had not yet appeared, and half-price at J)rury Lane or Covcnt Garden was a dreary dis- traction after a morning of desk work. There were no Alhani- Ijras then, and no Cremornes, no palaces of crystal in terraced gardens, no casinos, no music-halls, no a({uaria, no promenade concerts. Evans existed, but not in the fullness of its modern development ; and the most popular place of resort wi's the barbarous conviviality of the Cider Cellar.
Mr. Trenchard had paid the bill, collected his quotas and rewarded the waiter, and then, as they all rose, said to Endym- ion, *' We arc going to the divan. Do you smoke ?"
Endymion shook his head; but Trenchard added, "Well, you will somr day ; but you had better come with us. You need not smoke ; j'ou can order a cup of coffee, and then you may read all the newspapers and magazines. It is a nice lounge."
So, emerging :'rom Naseby Street into the Strand, they soon entered a tobacconist's shop, and passing through it were ad- mitted into a capacious saloon, well lit and fitted uj-) with low, broad sofas, fixed against the walls, and on which were seated, or reclining, many persons, chiefly smoking cigars, but some few practicing with the h.ookah and other oriental modes. In the center of the room was a table covered with newspapers and publications of that class. The companions from Joe's became separated after their entrance, and St. Barbe, address- ing Endymion said, ''I am not inclined to smoke to-day. Wc will order some coffee, and you will find some amusement in this"; and he placed in his hands a number of 'SSeara- moucli."
'* I hope you will like your new life," said St. Barbe, throw- ing down a review on the divan, and leaning back sipping his coffee. " One thing may be said in favor of it : you will work with a body of as true-hearted comrades as ever existed. They are always i"ondy to assist one. Thorough good-natured fel- lows, that I will say for them. I sujipose it is adders ity," he continued, ''that develops the kindly qualities of our nature. I l>elieve the sense of com h ion degradation has a tendency to
i
sr. nARBirs grievasces.
ibstitutes, !ared, and Lreary dis- 10 Alliani- ti terraced iromenado ts modern t Wi's the
uotas and o Eiidym-
cl, '* Well, us. You then you is a nice
they soon t were ad- witli low, re seated, hut .some odes. In wspapers •om Joe's , address- lay. We cmcnt in Scara-
Ic, throw- nping his Ivill work They lured fel- sity," ho nature, dency to
87 T am
i
make tlie degraded amiable — at least among themselves, told it is found so in the plantations in slave-gangs."
'• But I hope we are not a slave-gang," said Endymion.
*• It is horrible to think of gentlemen, and men of educa- tion, and perhaps first-rate talents — who knows ? — reduced to our straits," said St. Barbe. '^ I do not follow Jawett in all his views, for I hate political economy and never could under- stand it ; and he gives it you pure and simple, eh ? eh ? — but I sav it is something awful to think of the incomes that some men arc nudving, who could no more write an article in ' Scara- mouch' than lly."
*• Bui our incomes may im})rovc," said Endymit)n. '' I was told to-day that proiuotion was even rapid in our oOice."
''Our incomes may improve Avhen we are bent and gray," said St. Barbe, ''and Ave may even retire on a pension about as good as a nobleman leaves to his valet. Oh, it is a horrid Avorld ! Your father is a privy councilor, is not he ? "
"Yes, and so Avas my grandfather, but I do not think I shall CA'er be one."
"It is a great thing to have a father a privy councilor,"' said St. Barbe, with a glance of euA'y. "If I were the son of a privy councilor, those demons, Shuflle and Screw, Avouldgive nie £500 for my novel, which noAV they put in their bcast- 1\ magazine and print in small type, and do not ])ay me so nmch as a poAvdered ilunkey has in St. James's Square. I ugive with JaAvett : the whole thing is rotten."
"Mr. JaAA'ctt seems to haA'c A-ery strange opinions," said Endymion. "I did not like to hear what he said at dinner about the Church, but Mr. Trenchard turned the conversation, and I thought it best to let it pass."
''Trenchard is a sensible man, and a good felloAv," said St. Barbe ; "you like him ?"
"I find him kind."
" Do you know," said St. Barbe, in a AA'hisper, and Avith a di-tressed and almost vindictiA'C expression of countenance, "that man may come any day into four thousand a year. There is only one life between him and the present owner. I belieA"e it is a good life," he added, in a more cheerful voice.
I
■" 1
1'^ I !
SS
ENDYMIOX.
*'but iitiU it miglit luijipcn. Is it not liorrible ? Four thou- sand a year ! Trenchard Avith four thousand a year, and avc receiving little more than the jiay of a butler ! ''
'• Well, I wish, for his sake, he mighi have it," said Eu- clymion, "though I might lose a kind friend."
"Look at Seymour Ilicks," said St. Iiarbe ; "he has smoked his cigar, and he is going, lie never remains. He is going to a party, I'll be bound. That fellow gets about in a most extraordinary manner. Is it not disgusting ? I doubt whether he is asked much to dinner though, or I think avc should have heard of it. Nevertheless, Trenchard >aid the other day, that Ilicks had dined M'ith Lord Ciiu^ue-rorts. I can hardly believe it ; it Avould be too disgusting. Xo lord ever asked me to dinner. But the aristocracy of this country arc doomed ! "
**Mr. Ilieks," said Endymion, "probably lays himself out for societv."
"I sup])o?c you will," said St. Barbc, Avith a scrutinizing air. "I should if I Avere the son of a priA'y councilor. Ilicks is nothing ; his fill her kept a stable-yard and his mother AA^as an r.ctrcHH. We I o', e had seATral dignitaries of the Church in my family and one admiral. And yet Ilicks dines with Lord Cin(pie-Ports ! It is positiA'ely rcA'olting ! But the things he does to get asked ! — sings, rants, conjures, A'cntriloquizcs, mimics, stands on his head. His great peiformance is a par- liamentary debate. "We Avill make him do it for you. And yet Avith all this a dull dog — a very dull dog, sir. He Avrote for * Scaramouch ' some little time, but they can stand it no more. Between you and me, he has had notice to quit. That I knoAv ; and he will proljably get the letter when he goes home from his miiy iu-night. So i^iuch for success in society ! I shall noAv
Four thou- ear, and wo
," said Eii-
; '*Jic 1ki3 lins. Uq is 5 about in a •? I doubt I tliiuk we rd said tho ic-Ports. I J, Xo lord this country
himself out
scrutinizing
lor. Ilicks
mother was
I Church in
with Lord
e things lie
triloquizes,
CG is a par-
And yet
wrote for
it no more.
at I know ;
ne from his
diall now
FynvMioy at JionxEvs.
CIIArTER XXI.
89
It Avas only ten o'clock when Endymion returned to War- wick Street, and for the first time in his life used a luiss-key, with which Mr. Rodney had furnished him in the morning, and reentered his new home. He thought he hud n^ed it very (quietly, and was lighting his i iindio and about to steal u}) to his lofty heighi^s when from the door of tho parlor, which o];oned into the passage, emerged Miss Imogcne, who took the candlestick from his hand and insisted on Availing upon him.
''I thought I heard something,"' she said ; "you must let me light you up, for you can hardly yet know your Avay. I must see too if all is right ; you nniy Avant something."
So she tripped up lightly before him, shoAving, doubtless without premeditation, as Avell-turned an ankle and as pretty a foot as could fall to a damsel's fortunate lot. " My sister and Mr. Iiodney have gone to the play,*' she said, "but they left strict injunctions Avith mo to sec that aou Avire comfortid)le, and that you Avanted for nothing that avc could sup])ly."
"You are too kind," said Endymion, as she lighted the candles on his dressing-table, "and to tell you the truth these are luxuries lam not accu-fomed to, and to Avhich I am not entitled."
"'And A'ct," she said, Avltli a glance of blended admiration and pity, "they tell me time Avas Avhen gold was not good enough for you, and I do not think it coidd be."
"Such kindness as this," said Endymion, "is more pre- cious than gold."
"I hope you will find your things Avell amin^T'd. All j-our clothes arc in these two draAvers ; the coats in tlu' bottom one, and your linen in those aboA'c. You will not perb.ij)S be able to find your pocket-handkerchiefs at first. They are in this ■sichet ; my sister made it herself. Mr. Rodney says you are to ho called at eight o'clock and breakfast at nine. 1 think cvery- tliiiig is right. Good-night, Mr. Endymion."
The Rodney household was rather a strange one. The first tAvo floors, as avo have mentioned, Avere let, and at expensive
:ft,
IM
III;; ;
I I
1 I
yij
END YM I ox.
rates, for the Jipartnients wore capacious and capitally furnislieLl, and the situation, if not distinguished, was extremely conven- ient— quiet from not being a thoroughfare, and in the heart of civilization. They only kept a couple of servants, but their principal lodgers had their personal atteiuhmts. And yet after sunset the sisters appeared and presided at their tea-table, always exquisitely dressed ; seldom alone, for Mr. Ivodney had many friends, and lived in a capacious apartment, rather finely furnished with a round table covered with gaudy print-books, a mantel-piece crowded with vases of mock Dresden, and a cottage piano on Avhich Imogene could accompany hor more than pleasing voice.
SomehoAV or other, the process is diillcuU to trace, Endymi- on not unfre([uently found himself at ^Irs. Rodney's tea-table. On the lirst occasion or so, he felt himself a little shy and em- barrassed, but it soon became natural to him, and lie would often escape from the symposia at Joe's, and instead of the Divan, lind in Warwick Street a more congenial scene. There were generally some young men there, who seemed delighted with the ladies, listened with enthusiasm to Imogenc's singing, and were alloAvod to smoke. They Avcre evidently gentlemen, and indeed ^Ir. Rodney casually mentioned to Endymion that one of the most frequent guests might some day even be a peer of the realm. Sometimes there was a rubber of whist, and, if wanted, Mrs. Rodney took a hand in it ; Endymion sitting apart and conversing with her sister, avIio amused him by her lively observations, indicating even flashes of culture ; but al- ways addressed him without the slightest pretense and with the utmost naturalness. This was not the case Avith Mr. Rodney ; pretense Avith him Avas ingrained, and he Avas at lirst somewhat embarrassed by the presence of Endymion, as he could hardly maintain before his late patron's son his favorite character of the aristocratic A'ictim of revolution. And yet this draAvl ick AA'as more than counterbalanced by the gratification of his van- ity in finding a Ferrars his habitual guest. Such a luxury seemed a dangerous indulgence, but he could not resist it, and the moth Avas ahvays flying round the candle. There Avas no danger, hoAvever, and that ]Mr. Rodney soon found out. En-
WHIST AXD sr/'p /■:!:.
01
(■furnisliod, cly conven- :hc heart of , but their 1(1 yet after [• tea-table, ■vodney had Litlier finely triiit-books, den, and a y hor more
e, Endynii- 's tea-ta]>le. ly and eni- I he •\vouId ead of the ne. There I delighted ^^'s singing, ,^cntlemen, mi on that be a peer hi.st, and, ion sitting ini by her , but al- 1 with the Iiodney ; jomewhat d hardly ractcr of -Irawl: ick his van- luxury t it, and was no it. En-
i
dvniion was born with tact, and it came to him as much from •'•Qodness of heart as fineness of taste, yr. IJodney, tlicrefore, .soon resumed his anecdotes of great men and his personal experience of their sayings, manners, and customs, with which he was in the habit of enlivening o, ornamenting the whist- table ; occasionally introducing Endymion to the notice of the table by mentioning in a low tone, "That is Mr. Ferrars, in a certain sense under my care ; iii uitlier is a privy counciU)r, and had it not been for the revolution — for 1 maintain, and alwavs will, the IJeform Bill was neither more nor less than a revolution — would }»robably have been Prime Minister. Ilr was my earliest and my best friend."
AVlien there Averc cards, there Avas always a little su})per : a lobster and a roastrd potato and that sort of easy thing, and curious drinks, which the sisters mixed and made, and which no one else, at least all said so, could mix and make. On fit- ting occasions a bottle of champagne ai)peared, and then the person for whom the wiue was i)roduced was sure with wonder- ment to say, ''Where did you get this champagne, Kodney ? Could vou get me some?'' ]Mr. Rodnev shook his head and scarcely gave a hope, but subse(juently, when the praise in consequence had continued and increased, would observe, '' Do you really want some ? I can not promise, Ijut I will try. Of course thev Avill ask a high figure."
"Anything they like, my dear Iiodney."
And in about a week's time the gentleman was so fortunate as to get his cham})agne.
There was one subject on which Mr. Iiodney appeared to be particularly interested, and that Avas racing. The turf at that time had not developed into that vast institution of national demoralization Avhich it noAV exhibit^:. That disastrous charac- ter may be mainly attributed to the determination of our legis- lators to put doAvn gaming-houses, and Avhich, practically speaking, substituted for tlie pernicious folly of a comparative- ly limited class the ruinous madness of the community. There Averc many influences by Avhich in the highest clas;-cs persons might be discouraged or deterred from play under a roof ; and in the great majority of cases such a habit was difficult, not to
^.
IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S)
.^^ -fe /# ^
1.0
I.I
l^|28 |2.5
i ^ iiiM
!^ 3i£ 12.0
1.8
|
1.25 1.4 |
^ |
||
|
-^ 6" - |
► |
v^
^
%
^.
?
^
Photographic
Sdences
Corporation
23 WEST MAIN STREET
WEBSTER, NY. 14530
(716) 872-4S03
'Q,
^
9
^
iV
"92
ENDYMIOK
Mi
say impossible, to indulge. But in shutting up gaming-liouscp, we brought the gaming-table into the street, and its practices bc'jame the pursuit of those who would otherwise have never witnessed or even thought of them. No doubt Crockford's lu:d its tragedies, but all its disasters and calamities together would hardly equal a luster of the ruthless havoc which has cn.med from its suppression.
Nevertheless, in 1835 men made books, and ;Mr. Piodney was not inexpert in a com})osition which requires no ordinary qualities of character and intelligence ; method, judgment, self-restraint, not too much imagination, perception of charac- ter, and powers of calculation. All these qualities were now in active demand and exercise ; for the Derby was at hand, and the Rodney family, deeply interested in the result, were to iittend the celebrated festival.
One of the j'oung gentlemen, who sometimes smoked a cigar and sometimes tasted a lobster in tlieir parlor, and who seemed alike and equally devoted to Mrs. Rodney and her sis- ter, insisted upon taking tlieni to Epsom in his drag, and they themselves were to select the party to accompany them. Tliat was not difficult, for they Avere naturally all friends of their munificent host with one exception. Imogcne stipulated tluit Endymion should be asked, and ^h\ Rodney supported the suggestion. '' lie is the son of the privy councilor the Right Hon. William Pitt Ferrars, my earliest and my best friend, and in a certain sense is under my care."
The drive to the Derby was not then shorn of its humors and glories. It was the Carnival of England, with equipages as numerous and various, and with banter not less quick and witty. It was a briglit da}' — a day, no doubt, of wild hopes and terrible fears, but yet, on the Avhol.-, of joy and exultation. And no one was happier and prouder than pretty Mrs. Rodney, exquisitely dressed and sitting on the box of a patrician drag, beside its noble OAvner. On the seat behind them was Imogcne, with Endymion on one side, and on the other the individual *' who might one day be a peer." Mr. Rodney and some ethers, including Mr. Vigo, faced a couple of grooms, wlio sat with folded arms and unmoved countenances, fastidiouslv. stolid
<i
AFTER THE DERBY.
95
g-llOUSOP,
practices
ive never
•ockford's
together
rliich lias
'. Rodney ' ordiniiry adgmcnt, )f cliarac- werc now land, and , "svere to
:moked a and vrho
d her sis- and they
n. Tliat
of tlicir
ted tliat
ted tho
le Riglit
iend, and
liumors
juipagcs
lick and
d hopes
ultation.
Rodney,
an drag,
mogene,
dividual
id soino
who sat
ilv, stolid
amid all the fun, and grave even when they opened tlie cham- pagne.
The right horse won. Mr. Rodney and his friends pocketed a f^ood stake, and they demolished their luncheon of luxuries with frantic gayety.
*' It is almost as happy as our little suppers in Warwick Street," whispered their noble driver to his companion.
"' Oh I much more than anything you can find there," sim- pered Mrs. Rodney.
*'I declare to you, some of tho happiest hours of my life have heen passed in Warwick Street,"' gravely murmured her friend.
** I wish I could believe that," said Mrs. Rodney.
As for Endymion, he enjoyed himself amazingly. The whole scene was new to him — he had never been at a race be- fore, and this was the most famous of races. lie did not know he had betted, liut he found he too had won a little money,. Mr. Rodney having ])ut him on something, though what that meant he had not the remotest idea, Imogcne, however, as- sured him it was all right, ]\Ir. Rodney constantly put her on something, lie enjoyed the luncheon too ; the cold chicken, and the French i)ies, the wondrous salads, and tho iced cham- pagne. It seemed that Imogene was always taking care that his plate or his glass should be filled. Everything was delight- ful, and his noble host, who, always courteous, had hitherto been reserved, called him "Ferrars."
"What with the fineness of the weather, the inspiration of the excited and countl' oS multitude, the divine stimulus of the luncheon, the kindness of his charming companions, and the general feeling of enjoyment and success that seemed to per- vade his being, Endymion felt as if he were almost acting a distinguished part in some splendid triumph of antiquity, as returning home, the four splendid dark chestnuts swept along, two of their gay company playing bugles, and the grooms sit- ting with folded arms of haughty indifference.
Just at this moment his eye fell upon an omnibus full, in- side and out, of clerks in his office. There was a momentary .stoppage, and while he returned the salute of several of them,.
94
END YMIOX.
}> ■
his quick eye could not avoid recognizing the sliglitly surprised glance of Trenchard, the curious amazement of Seymour Ilicks, and the indignant aston^hoient of St. Barbe.
"Our friend Fcrrars f.cems in tiptop company,"' said TiX-n- chard.
*' That may have been a countess on the box," said Seymour Hicks, "for I observed an earl's coronet on the drag. lean not make out who it is."
*' There i^ no more advantage in going Avith four horses than with two," said St. Barbe; ''indeed, I believe you go slower. Ic is mere pride ; puffed up vanity. I should like to send those two grooms witli their folded arms to the galleys — I hate those fellows. For my part, I never was behind four horses except in a stage coach. No peer of the realm ever took mo on his drag. However, a day of reckoning will come ; the people won't stand this much longer."
Jawett was not there, for he disapproved of races.
i
I
CHAPTER XXII.
ExDYMiON had to encounter a rather sharp volley when he went to the office next morning. After some general remarks as to the distinguished party which he had accompanied to the races, Seymour Hicks could not resist inquiring, though with some circumlocution, whether the lady was a countess. The lady was not a countess. Who was the lady ? The lady was ^Irs. Rodney. Who was Mrs. Rodney ? She was the wife of Mr. Rodney, who accompanied her. Was Mr. Rodney a rela- tion of Lord Rodney ? Endymion believed he was not a rela- tion of Lord Rodney. Who was Mr. Rodney then ? '• Mr, Rodney is an old friend of my father ?" This natural solution of doubts and difficulties arrested all further inquiry. Generally speaking, the position of Endymion in his ncAV life was satisfactor}-. He was regular and assiduous in his attendance at his office, Avas popular Avith his comrades, and was cherished by his chief, who had even invited him to
WALDERSnARE.
95
surprised ur Ilicks,
lid Tion-
Scvmour g. I cull
lur liorses -c you go Id lilic to galleys- hind four calm ever vill come ;
wlicn he il remarks led to the )ugli with less. The
lady was lie wife of icy a rela-
Lot a rea-
rrested all pndymion (assiduous pmrades, tl him to
dinner. Tlis duties Avcre certainly at present mcclianical, but iliey were associated with an interesting profession ; and hum- hie as was his lot, he began to feel the pride of public life. lie continued to be a regular guest at Joe's, and was careful not to seem to avoid the society of his fellow-clerks in the evenings, for he had an instinctive feeling that it was as well they should not become acquainted Avith his circle in Warwick Street. And yet to him the attractions of that circle became dail}' more dif- ficult to resist. And often when he was enduring the purga- tory of tbe divan, listening to tlic snarls of St. Barbc over the shameful prosperity of everybody in this world except the snarler, or perhaps went half-price to the pit of Drury Lane with the critical Trenchard, he was, in truth, often restless and absent, and his mind was in another place, indulging in visions \s'[\\c\\ he diu ^oi care to analyze, but which were very agreeable.
One evening, shortly after the expedition to Epsom, while tlic rest were playing a rubber, Imogenc said to him : " I wish you to be friends with Mr. Vigo ; I think he might be of use to you."
Mr. Vigo was playing whist at this moment ; his partner Avas Sylvia, and they were playing against Mr. Rodney and Waldershare.
Waldcrshare Avas the tenant of the second floor. He Avas the young gentleman ''who might some day be a peer." He Avas a young man of about three or four and twenty years ; fair, Avith short curly brown hair and blue eyes ; not exactly liandsome, but Avith a countenance full of expression, and the index of ([uick emotions, Avhctlicr of joy or of anger. Wakler- sliare was the only child of a younger son of a patrician house, and had inherited from his father a moderate but easy fortune, lie had been the earliest lodger of the Rodneys, and, taking advantage of the Tory reaction, had just been returned to the House of Commons.
What he Avould do there Avas a subject of interesting specu- lation to his numerous friends, and it may be said admirers. Waldersh.ire was one of those vivid and brilliant organizations J Avhieh exercise a peculiarly attractive influence on youth. He
9G
ENDYMIOK.
had been the hero of tlie debating club at Cambridge, and many believed in consequence that he must become prime minister. He was witty and fanciful, and though capricious and bad-tempered, could flatter and caress. At Cambridge he had introduced the new Oxford heresy, of which Nigel Pen- ruddock was a votary. Waldershare prayed and fasted, and swore by Laud and Strafford. He took, however, a more emi- nent degree at Paris than at his original Alma Mater, and be- coming passionately addicted to French literature, his views respecting both Church and State became modified — at least in private. Ilis entrance into English society had been highly successful, and as he had a due share of vanity and was by no means free from worldliness, he had enjoyed and pursued his triumphs. But his versatile nature, which required not only constant, but novel excitement, became palled, even with the society of duchesses. There was a monotony in the splendor of aristocratic life wliich wearied him, and for some time ho had persuaded himself that the only people Avho understood the secret of existence were the family under whose roof he lodged.
Waldershare was profligate, but sentimental ; unprinci2)led, but romantic ; the child of whim, and the slave of an imagina- tion so freakish and deceptive that it was always impossible to foretell his course. lie was alike capable of sacrificing all his feelings to worldly considerations or of forfeiting the world for a visionary caprice. At present his favorite scheme, and one to which he seemed really attached, was to educate Imo- gci\c. Under his tuition he had persuaded himself that she would turn out what he styled "a great woman." An age of vast change, according to Waldershare, was impending over us. There v/as no male career in which one could confide. Most men of mark would probably be victims, but *' a gi'cat woman " must always make her way. Whatever the circumstances, she would adapt herself to them ; if necessary, would mold and fashion them. His dream was that Imogene should go fortli and conquer the world, and that in the sunset of life he should find a refuge in some corner of her palaces.
Imogene was only a child whei> Waldershare first became a
! i
AJ^ APT SCnOLAR.
97
ridgo, and )mc prime
capricious mbridge he Nigel Pen- fasted, and 1 more cmi- tcr, and be- D, his views cd— at least been bigbly ,d was by no
pursued bis I'cd not only ;cn with the the splendor ome time he 3 understood hose roof he
mprinciplcd, an imagina- impossible to lificing all his g the world scheme, and xlucate Imo- f that she An age of ling over us. [nfide. Most reat woman " Instances, she mold and Duld go forth ife he should
h-st became a
ii 'I
i
lodger. She used to bring his breakfast to his drawing-room and. arrange his table. lie encountered her one day, and he requested her to remain, and always preside over his meal. lie fell in love with her name, and wrote her a series of sonnets, idealizing her past, panegyrizing her present, and prophetic of her future life. Imogenc, who was neither shy nor obtrusive, was calm amid all his vagaries, liumored his fancies, even when she did not understand them, and read his verses as she would a foreign language which she was determined to master.
Her culture, according to Waldersliare, was to be carried on chiefly by conversation. She was not to read, or at least not to read much, until her taste was formed and she had ac- quired the due share of previous knowledge necessary to profit- able study. As Waldershare was eloquent, brilliant, and witty, Imogene listened to him with wondering interest and amuse- ment, even when she found some difficulty in following liim, but her apprehension was so quick and her tact so fine, that her progress, though she was almost unconscious of it, was remarkable. Sometimes in the evening, while the others were smoking together or playing whist, Waldershare and Imogene, sitting apart, were engaged in apparently the most interesting converse. It was impossible not to observe the animation and earnestness of Waldershare, and the great attention with which his companion responded to his representations. Yet all this time he was only giving her a lecture on Madame de Sevigne.
Waldershare used to take Imogene to the National Gallery and Hampton Court, and other delightful scenes of popular education, but of late Mrs. Rodney had informed her sister that she ft'as no longer young enough to permit these expeditions. Imogenc accepted the announcement without a murmur, but it occasioned Waldershare several sonnets of heartrending re- monstrance. Imogene continued, lowever, to make his break- fast, and kept his parliamentary papers in order, which he never could manage, but the mysteries of which Imogenc mas- itered with feminine quickness and precision. Whenever Wal- jdershare was away he always maintained a constant correspond- ence v.ith Imogene. In this he communicated everything to ler without the ^lightest reserve ; describing everything ho
98
EXDYMIOX.
I !
.saw, iilmost everything he licard, pages teeming with anecdotes of a world of which she could know lothing — the sccret-s of courts and coteries, memoirs of princes and ministers, of dan- dies and dames of fashion. **If anything happens to me," "Waldershare would say to Imogene, ^' this correspondence may be worth thousands to you, and when it is published it will connect your name with mine, and assist my grand idea of your becoming 'a great woman.'"
"But I do not know Mr. Vigo," whisiicrcd Endymion to Imogene.
*'But you have met him here, and you went together to Epsom. It is enough. He is going to ask you to dine with him on Saturday. "We shall be there, and Mr. Waldershare is going. He has a beautiful place, and it will be very pleasant." And exactly as Imogene had anticipated, Mr. Vigo, in the course of the evening, did ask Endymion to do him the honor of becoming his guest.
The villa of Mr. Vigo was on the banks of the Thames, and had once belonged to a noble customer. The Palladian man- sion contained a suite of chambers of majestic dimensions — lofty ceilings, rich cornices, and vast Avindows of plate glass ; the gardens were rich with the products of conservatoric>s which Mr. Vigo had raised with every modern improvement, and a group of stately cedars supported the dignity of the scene and gave to it a name. Beyond, a winding walk encircled a large field which Mr. Vigo called the park, and which sparkled with gold and silver pheasants, and the keeper lived in a newly raised habitation at the extreme end, which took the form of a Swiss cottage.
The Rodney lamily, accompanied by Mr. Waldershare and Endymion, went to the Cedars by water. It was a delightful afternoon of June, the river warm and still, and the soft, fit- ful, western breeze, occasionally rich with the perfume of the gardens of Putney and Chiswick. Waldershare talked the whole way. It was a rhapsody of fancy, fun, knowledge, anec- dote, brilliant badinage — even passionate seriousness. Some- times he recited poetry, and his voice was musical ; and then, when he had attuned his companions to a sentimental pitch,
I
ARRIVAL AT THE CEDARS.
l>0
inccdotcs ■jccrcts of 5, of cliin- ! to me," .ciicc may icd it will d idea of
dvmion to
ogetlicr to > dine with dcrsliarc is ' pleasant." igo, in the L the honor
'hamcs, and ladian man- mensions — plate glass;
oric-i which Inent, and a
Q scene and
cled a large jarlded with
in a newly c form of a
rshare and delightful Ihe soft, fit- fume of the 1 talked the ;dge, anec- tss. Some- and then, fcntal pitch.
he would break into mockery, and toucli with delicate satire every mood of human feeling. Endymion listened to him in silence and admiration. lie had never heard Vt'akleivhare talk before, and he had never heard anybody like him. All this time, what was now, and ever, remarkable in Wakler- share were his manners. They were linislicd, even to court- liness. Affable and winning, he was never familiar. He al- ways addressed Sylvia iv.i if she were one of these duchesses round whom he used to linger. He would bow defcrentiallv to her remarks, and elicit from some of her casual observations an acute or graceful meaning, of which she herself was by no means conscious. Tb.e bow of WakUrshare was a study. Its grace and ceremony must have been organic ; for there was no traditionary type in existence from which he could have de- rived or inherited it. lie certainlv addressed Imogenc and spoke of her by her Christian name ; but this was i)artly be- cause he was in love with the name, and partly because l;e would persist in still treating her as a child. But his manner to her always was that of tender rc-^pect, Slie was almost as silent as Endymion during their voyage, but not less attentive to her friend. Mr. l?cuiiey was generally silent, and never opened his mouth on this occasion except in answer to an in- quiry from his wife as to whom a villa miglit belong, and it seemed always that he knew every villa, aiul every one to whom they belonged.
The sisters were in dcmi-toilct, which seemed artless, though in fact it was profoundly devised. Sylvia was the only ■jK'rson who really understood the meaning of '''simijlcx mun- ditiis," and this was one of the secrets of her success. Tlicrc Avere some ladies, on the lawn of the Cedars when they arrived, not exactly of their school, and avIio vrcre ilnely and fully dressed. Mrs. Gamme was the wife of a sporting attorney, a friend of Mr. Vigo, and who also, having a villa tit hand, was looked upon as a country neighbor. Mrs. Gamme was univer- l sally recognized to be a fine woman, and she dressed up to her jreputation. She was a famous whist-player at high points. Hid dealt the cards with hands covered with diamond rings. [Anotlicr country neighbor was the chief partner in the cclc-
100
EXDYMWy.
briitcd firm of Ilooghley, Daccii and Co., dealers in Indian and other shawls. Mr. llooghley had married a celebrated actress, and was proud and a little jealous of his wife. Mrs. llooghley had always an opportunity at tlie Cedars of meeting some friends in her former profession, for Mr. Vigo liked to be surrounded by genius and art. *'I must have talent," ho would exclaim, us lie looked round at the amusing and motley multitude as- sembled at his splendid entertainments. And to-day upon his lawn might be observed the lirst tenor of the opera and a prima- donna who had just arrived, several celebrated members of the English stage of both sexes, artists of great reputation, whose principal works already adorned the well-selected walls of the Cedars, a danseusc or two of celebrity, some literary men, as Mr. Vigo styled them, who were chieily brethren of the peri- odical press, and more than one member of cither house of Par- liament.
Just as the party were preparing to leave the lawn and en- ter the dining-room arrived, breathless and gloAving, the young earl who had driven the Iiodiieys to the Derby.
"A shaver, my dear A'igo I Only returned to town this afternoon, and found your invitation. How fortunate !" And then he looked around, and recognizing ^Irs. Rodney was im- mediately at her side. ** I must have the honor of taking you in to dinner. I got your note, but only by this morning's post."
The dinner was a banquet — a choice bouquet before every gnest, turtle and venison and piles of whitebait, and pine-ap- ples of prodigious size, and bunches of grapes that had gained prizes. The champagne seemed to flow in fountains, and was only interrupted that the guest might quaff Burgundy or taste Tokay. But what was more delightful than all was the enjoy- ment of all present, and especially of their host. That is a rare sight. Banquets arc not rare, nor choice guests, nor gra- cious hosts ; but when do we ever see a person enjoy anything ? But these gay cliildren of art and whim, and successful labor and happy speculation, some of them very rich and some of them without a sou, seemed only to think of the festive liour and all its joys. Neither wealth nor poverty brought them.
*&
Arri'jR Till-: nAsorirr.
ml
inn unit actress, ooglilcy ) f ricntls rounded exclaim, itudc us- upon Ills
a primii- n-s of the >n, whose Us of the y men, as
the peri- isc of Par-
m and cn- the young
town this
ltd" A^^(^ cy was inl- awing you morning's
Icforc every lid pine-ap- Ihad gained IS, and w^as idy or taste the enjoy- That is a Its, nor gra- anything ? lessf ul hibor iiid some of Icstive hour )ught them
care.-'. Every face sparkled, L^wvy word seemed wiily. and every sound seemed sweet. A hand played ui)on tlic lawn during the dinner, and were succeeded, when the desert com- menced, by strange choruses from singers of some foreign land, who for the first time aired their picturescpie costumes on the banks of the Thames.
When tlie ladies had withdrawn to the saloon, the first comic singer of the age excelled himself; and when they re- joined their fair friends, the primo-tenore and the prima-donna gave them a grand scena, succeeded by the English perform- ers in a favorite scene from a famous farce. Then Mrs. (iamnie had an opportunity of dealing with her diamond rings, and the rest danced — a waltz of whirling grace, or merry cotillon of jocund bouquets.
"Well, Clarence,-' said Waldei'sliare to the young earl, as they stood for a moment apart, '' was I right ?"
"By Jove ! yes. It is the only life. You were quite right. AVe should indeed be fools to sacrifice ourselves to the conven- tional."
The Rodney party returned home in the drag of the last s])eakcr. They were the last to retire, as Mr. Vigo wished for one cimir with his noble friend. As he bade farewell, and cordially, to Endymion, he said, "Call on me to-morrow norning in Burlington Street in your way to your office. Do not mind the hour. I am an earlv bird."
CHAPTER XXIII.
"It is no favor," said Mr. Vigo ; "it is not even an act of friendliness ; it is a freak, and it is my freak ; the favor, if there be one, is conferred by you,"
"But I really do not know what to say," said Endymion, hesitating and confused.
"I am not a classical scholar," said Mr. Vigo, "but there are two things Avhich I think I understand — men and horses. I like to back them both when I think they ought to win."
!>
102
FXDVMIOy.
" But I am scarcely a man,'' sai<l Eiidymlon, rather pite- ously, *'and I sometime.^ tliink I shall never win anything."
"• That is my alTair," replied ]\[r. Vigo ; *'you are a year- ling, and I have furmed my judgment as to your capacity. What I wish to do in your case is what I have done in others, and some memorable ones. Dress does not make a man, but it often makes a sucee-sful one. The most precious stone, you know, must be cut and ]iolished. I shall enter your name in my books for an unlimited credit, and no account to be settled till you arc a privy councilor. I do not limit the credit, be- cause you are a man of sense and a gentleman, and will not abuse it. But be (piitc as careful not to stint yourself as not to be needlessly extravagant. In the first instance, you would be interfering with my experiment, and that would not be fair."
This conversation took place in Mr. Vigo's counting-house the morning after the entertainment at his villa. Endymion called ni)on ^Mr. Vigo in his way to his office, as he had been requested to do, and ^Ir. Vigo had expressed his wishes and intentions with regard to Endymion as intimated in the preced- ing remarks.
"I have knoAvn many an heiress lost by her suitor being ill-dressed,"' said Mr. Viu'o. ''You must dress according to your age, your pursuits, your object in life ; you must dress too, in some cases, according to your set. In youth a little fancy is rather expected, but if political life be your object, it shoulil be avoided, at least after one-and-twenty. I am dress- ing two brothers novr, men of considerable position ; one is a mere man of pleasure, the other will probably be a minister of state. They are as like as two peas, but were I to dress the dandy and the minister the same, it would be bad taste — it Avould be ridiculous. Xo man gives mo the trouble Avhicli Lord Eglantine does : he has not made up his mind whether he Avill be a great poet or prime minister. ' You must choose, my lord,' I tell him. ' I can not send you out looking like Lord Byron if yoa mean to be a Canning or a Pitt.' I have dressed a great many of our statesmen and orators, and I al- ways dressed them according to their style and the nature of
i
\
^
»
being
ing to dress- little
ect, it
dress- is a
tor o£ 3 the e — it
which ether
loose, like have I al- ■ire of
COIiUKSPONDESCE.
103
I
their duties. What all men should avoid is the 'shabby gen- teel.' No man ever gets over it. I wl'l save you from that. You had better be in rags."
CHAPTER XXIV.
"When the twins had separated, they had resolved on a sys- tem of communication which had been, at least on the })art of Myra, scrupulously maintained. They were to interchange let- ters every week, and cacli letter was to assume, if i)ossible, the shape of a journal, so that when they again met no portion of the interval should be a blank in their past lives. There wore few incidents in the existence of ^lyra ; a book, a walk, a visit to the rectory, were among the chief. The occupations of their father were unchanged, and his liealth seemed sustained, but that of her mother was not satisfactory. Mrs. Fcrrars had never rallied since the last discomfiture of her political hopes, and had never resumed her previous tenor of life. She was se- cluded, her spirits uncertain, moods of depression succeeded l)y fits of unaccountable excitement, and, on the whole, Myra feared a general and chronic disturbance of her nervous sys- tem. Ilis sister preparet'' Endymion for encountering a great change in their parent when he returned home. Myra, iiow- cver, never expatiated on the affairs of Ilurstlcy. Her annals in this respect were somewhat dry. She fulfilled her promise of recording them, but no more. Ilcr pen was fuller and more eloquent in her comments on the life of her brother and of the new characters with whom he had become acquainted. She delighted to hear about Mr. Jawett, and especially about ^Ir. St. Barbe, and was much pleased that he had been to the Derby, tliough she did not exactly collect who were his companions. Did he go with that kind ^Ir. Trenchard ? It would seem, that Endymion's account of the Rodney family had been lim- ited to vague though earnest acknowledgments of their great civility and attention, which added much to the comfort of his life. Impelled by some of these grateful though general re-
104
EXDYJdION:
marks, Mrs. Fcrnu's, in a paroxysm of stately gratitude, had sent a missiA'e to Sylvia, such as a sovereign might address to a deserving subject, at the same time acknowledging and com- mending her duteous services. Such was the old domestic su- perstition of the Rodneys, that, with all their worldliness, they treasured this effusion as if it had really emanated from the center of power and courtly favor.
Myra, in her anticipations of speedily meeting her brother, was doomed to disappointment. She had counted on Endym- ioii obtaining some holidays in the usual recess, but in conse- cpiciic'o of having so recently joined the office, Endymion was retained for summer and autumnal work, and not until Christ- mas was there any prospect of his returning home.
The interval between midsummer and that period, though not devoid of seasons of monotony and loneliness, passed in a •Wciy not altogether unprofitable to Endymion. Waldershare, who had begun to notice him, seemed to become interested in his career. Waldcrsharo knew all about his historic ancestor, Endymion Carey. The bubbling imagination of Waldcrsharo clustered with a sort of wild fascination round a living link with the age of the cavaliers. He had some Stuart blood in his veins, and his ancestors had fallen at Edgehill and Marston Moor. Waldershare, whoso fancies alternated between Strafford and St. Just, Archbishop Laud and the Goddess of Reason, re- verted for the moment to his visions on the banks of the Cam, and the brilliant rhapsodies of his boyhood. His converse with Nigel Penruddock had prepared Endymion in some degree for these mysteries, and perhaps it was because "Waldershare found that Endymion was by no means ill-informed on these matters, and therefore there was less opportunity of dazzling and mold- ing him, which was a passion with Waldershare, that he soon quitted the Great Rebellion for pastures new, and impressed upon his pupil that all that had occurred before the French Rev- olution was ancient history. The French Revolution had in- troduced the cosmopolitan principle into human affairs instead of the national, and no public man could succeed who did not comprehend and acknowledge that truth. Waldershare lent Endymion books, and books with which otherwise he would
I,
.ST. BAR BE IX THE SUBUnBS.
I(i5
Cam, |c with •ce for Ifound ttcrs, Imold- soon ■essccl ReV" d in- stead not lent onld
f i
not have become acquainted. Unconsciously to liimself, tlie talk of Waldersiiare, teeming with knowledge, and fancy, and l)layfulness, and airy sarcasm of life, taught him something of the art of conversation — to be j^ronipt without being stubborn, to refute without argument, and to clothe grave matters in a motley garb.
But in August AValdershare disappeared, and at tlie begin- ning of September, even the Rodneys had gone to Margate. St. Barbe was the only clerk left in Endymion's room. They dined together almost every day, and went on the top of an omnibus to many a surburban paradise. '• I tell vou what,'' said St. Barbe, as they were Avatching one day together the humors of the Avorld in the crowded tea-garden and bustling bowling-green of Canonbury Tavern; '*a fellow miglit get a good chapter out of this scene. I could do it, but I will not. Whnt is the use of lavishinu' one's brains on an ungrateful world ? Why, if that fellow (Jushy were to write a descri])tion \ji this place, which he Avould do like a penny-a-liner drunk with ginger-beer, every countess in Mayfair would be reading him, not knowing, the idiot, whether she ought to smile or shed tears, and sending him cards with ' at home ' upon them as large as life. Oh ! it is disgusting ! absolutely disgusting. It is a nefarious world, sir. You will find it out some day. I am as much robbed by that fellow Gusliy as men are on the highway. He is appropriating my income, and the income of thousands of honest fellows. And then he pretends he is writ- ing for the people ! The people ! What does he know about the people ! xVnnals of the Xcw Cut and Saffron Hill. Tie thniks he will frighten some lord, who will ask him to dinner. And that he calls Progress. I hardly know which is the worst class in this country— the aristocracy, the middle class, or Avhat they call the people. I hate them all."
About the fall of the leaf the offices were all filled again, and among the rest Trenchard returned. '' His brother has been ill," said St. Barbe. " Thev say that Trenchard is very fond of him. Fond of a brother who keeps him out of four thousand pounds per annum ! What will man not say ? And yet I could not go and congratulate Trenchard on his brother's
1('(\
exdymion:
death. It vrould be *' bad taste.' Trciichard would perliap.s never speak to me again, though lie had been lying awake all night chuckling over the event. And Gu.shy takes an amiable view of this world of hypocrisy jind i)lunder. And that is why C! ushy is so popular I "
There was one incident at the beginning of November, Avhich eventually exercised no mean inlluencc on the life of Eiulymion. Trenchard offered one evening to introduce him as a guest to a celebrated debating society, of which Trenchard was a distinguished member. This society had grown out of the Union at Cambridge, and was originally intended to have been a metro})olitan branch of that famous association. But in process of time it was found that such a constitution was too limited to insure those members and that variety of mind de- sirable in such an institution. It was therefore opened to the whole world duly qualified. The predominant element, how- ever, for a long time consisted of C'unbridgc men.
This society used to meet in a large room, iitted up as much like the House of Commons as possible, and whieh was in Freemasons' Tavern, in Great Queen fStreet. Some hundred and fifty members were i)resent when End}inion paid his first visit there, and the scene to Endymion v.'as novel and deeply interesting. Tnougli only a guest, he Avas permitted to sit in the body of the chamber, by the side of Trenchard, who kindly gave him some information, as the proceedings advanced, as to the principal personages who took part in them.
The question to-night was, whether the decajiitation of Charles the First were a justifiable act, and the debate Avas opened in the affirn;ative by a young man with a singularly sunny face and a voice <jf music. His statement Avas clear and calm. Though nothing could be more uncompromising than liis opinions, it seemed that nothing could be fairer tlnn his facts.
'' ' hat is Hortensius," said Trenchard ; *' he will be called this term. They say lie did nothing at the university, and is too idle to do anything at the bar ; but I think highly of him. You should hear him in reply."
The opening speech was seconded by a very young man, in
w .
A DEBATE.
lo:
ion of |to was jularly L' and tlian l:m his
called Imd is liim.
km, in
a most artificial style, remarkable for its superfluity of iutcnd- ed sarcasm, which Avas delivered in a highly elaborate tone, so that the speaker seemed severe Avithout being keen.
"'Tis the new Cambridge style,'' whif^pored Trenchard, "but it will not go down here."
The question having been launched, Spruce arose, a very neat speaker ; a little too mechanical, but plausible. Eudym- ion was astonished at the dextrous turns in his own favor which he gave to many of the statements of Iloitcnsius, and how he mangled and massacred the seconder, Avbo had made a mistake in a date.
" He is the Tory leader,'" said Trenchard. *' There are not twenty Tories in the Union, but wo ahvays listen to him. He is sharp. Jawett will answer him."
And, accordingly, that great man rose. Jawett, in dulcet tones of philanthropy, intimated that he was not ojjposcd to the decapitation of kings ; on the contrary, if there were no other way of getting rid of them, he would have recourse to such a method. But he did not think the case before them was justifiable.
''Always crotchety," whispered Trenchard. Jawett thought the whole conception oi che opening speech erroneous. It proceeded on the assumption that the execution of Charles was the act of the people ; on the contrary, it was an intrigue of Cromwell, who was the only person Avho profited by it.
Cromwell was vindicated and panegyrized in a flaming speech, by Montreal, who took this opportunity of denounc- ing alike kings and bishops, Church and State, with powerful invective, terminating his address by the expression of an ear- nest hope that he might be spared to witness the inevitable Commonwealth of England.
''He only lost his election for "Rattlcton by ten votes," said Trenchard. '' We call him the Lord Trotector, and his friends here think he will be so."
The debate was concluded, after another hour, by Ilorten- sius, and Endymion was struck by the contrast between his first and second manner. Safe from reply, and reckless in his
108
ESDYMIOX.
security, it is not easy to describe the audacity of liis retorts, or the tumult of his eloquence. Rapid, sarcastic, humorous, picturesque, impassioned, he seemed to carry everything before him, and to resemble his former self in notliing but the music of his voice, which lent melody to scorn, and sometimes reached the depth of patlios.
Endymion walked home with Mr. Trenchard, and in a musing mood. "I should not care hoAv lazy I was,"' said En- d3'mion, " if I could speak like llortcnsius."
i
CHAPTER XXV.
The snow was falling about tlie time when the Swindon coach, in which Endymion Avas a passenger, was expected at Ilurstley, and the snoAV had been falling all day. Nothing had been more dreary than the outward world, or less entitled to the merry epithet which is the privilege of the season. The gardener had been dispatched to tlie village inn, W'licre the coach stopped, with a lantern and cloaks and umbrellas. With- in the house the huge blocks of smoldering beech sent forth a liospitable heat, and, whenever there was a sound, Myra threw cones on the inflamed mass, that Endymion might be welcomed with a blaze. Mrs. Ferrars who had appeared to-day, though late, and had been very nervous and excited, broke down half an hour before her son could arrive, and, murmuring that she would reappear, had retired. Her husband was apparently reading, but his eye wandered and his mind was absent from the volume.
The dogs barked, Mr. Ferrars thrcAV down his book, ^Myra forgot her cones ; the door burst open, and she was in her brother's arms.
"And where is mamma?" said Endymion, after he had greeted his father.
"She will be here directly," said Mi. Ferrars. "You are late, and the suspense of your arrival a little agitated her."
Three quarters of a year had ela].)sed since the twins had
I
li
I
liETURX TO II UL ST LEY.
109
had
are
had
parted, and they were at that period of life wlicn such an in- terval often produces no slight charp;cs in personal appearance. Endymion, always tall for his yea. had considerably groAvn ; liis air and manner and dress -were distinguished. But three (piarters of a year had produced a %t\\\ greater efTcct upon his sister, lie had left her a beautiful girl : lier beauty was not less striiving, but it was now the beauty of aAvoman. ller mien was radiant but commanding, and her brow, always remarka- ble, was singularly impressive.
They stood in animated converge before th;^ fire, Endymion betAveen hi.- father and his sister and retaining of each a hand, when Mr. Ferrars nodded to Myra and said, "I think now ; " and Myra, not reluctantly, but not Avith happy eagerness, left the room.
'' She is gone for your poor mother," said ^Ir. Ferrars ; *' wo are uneasy about her, my dear boy."
Myra was some time away, and when she returned she was alone. " She says she must see him first in her room," said Myra, in a low voice, to her father ; ''but that will never do ; you or I must go Avitli him."
" You had better go," said Mr. Ferrars.
She took her brother's hand and led him away. " I go Avitli you, to prevent dreadful scenes," said his sister, on the stair- case. "Try to behave just as in old times, and as if you saw no change."
Myra Avent into the chamber first to give to her mother, if possible, the keynote of the intervicAv, and of whicli she had already furnished the prelude. " We are all so happy to see Endymion again, dear mamma. Papa is quite gay."
And then Avhen Endymion, answering his sister's beckon, entered, Mrs. Ferrars rushed forward Avitli a sort of laugh, and cried out, '* Oh, I am so happy to see you again, my child ! I feel quite gay."
lie embraced her, but he could not belicAe it was his moth- er, A vision at once haggard and bloated had supplanted that soft and rich countenance which had captivated so maoy. A robe concealed her attenuated frame ; but the lustrous eyes were bleared and bloodshot, and the accents of the voice, which
110
ENDYMTON.
\
used to be at once melodious and a little drawling, hoarse, harsh, and hurried.
She never stoi)pcd talking ; but it was all in one key, and that the prescribed one— her happiness at his arrival, the uni- versal gaycty it had produced, and the merry Christmas they -were to keep. After a time she began to recur to the past, and to sigh ; but instantly Myra interfered with '' You know, mam- ma, you arc to dine down stairs to-day, and you will hardly have time to dress ; " and she motioned to Endymion to re- tire.
Mrs. Ferrars kept the dinner Avaiting a long time, and, when she entered the room, it was evident that she was pain- fully excited. She had a cap on, and had used some rouge.
*' Endymion must take mo in to dinner," she hurriedly ex- claimed, as she entered, and then grasped her son's arm.
It seemed a happy and even a merry dinner, and yet there was something about it forced and constrained. Mrs. Ferrars talked a great deal, and Enaymion told them a great many anecdotes of those Licn and things which most interested them, and ]Myra seemed to be absorbed in his remarks and narratives, and his mother would drink his health more than once, when suddenly she went into hysterics, and all was anarchy. Mr. Ferrars looked distressed and infinitely sad ; and Myra, putting her arm round hci' mother, and whispering words of calm or comfort, managed to lead her out of the room, and neither of them returned.
•* Poor creature ! " said Mr. Ferrars with a sigh. *' Seeing you has been too much for her."
The next morning Endymion and his sister paid a visit to the rectory, and there they met Nigel, who was passing his Christmas at home. Tliis was a happy meeting. The rector had Avritteu an essay on squirrels, and showed them a glass con- taining that sportive little animal in all its frolic forms. Farm- er Thornberry had ordered a path to be cleared on the green from the hall to the rectory ; and *'that is all," said Mrs. Pen- ruddock, ''we have to walk upon, except the high road. The snow has drifted to such a degree that it is impossible to get to the Chase. I went out the day before yesterday w^'tli Carlo as
i^
Im or
ler of
jeemg
sit to g his cctor con- arni- B^rcen Perx- The et to lo as
BROKEX HEALTH.
Ill
a guide. When I did not clearly make out my Avay, I .sent him furward, and sometimes I could only see his black head emerging from the snow. So I had to retreat."
]Mrs. Ferrars did not appear tliis day. Endymion visitctl her in her room. lie found her flighty anil incoherent. She seemed to think that he had returned permanently to Hurst- ley, and said she never had any good o].)inion of the scheme of his leaving them. If it had been the Foreign Oilice, as was promised, and his father had been in the Cabinet, which was his right, it might have been all very well. But, if he were to leave home, he ought to have gone into the Guards, and it was not too late. And then they might live in a small house in town, and look after him. There Avere sniuU houses in AVil- ton Crescent, which would do very well. Besides, she herself wanted change of air. Hurstley did not agree with her. She had no appetite. Slic never Avas well except in London, or Wimbledon. She wished that, as Endymion was here, he would speak to his father on the subject. She saw no reason why they should not live at their place at Wimbledon as well as here. It was not so large a house, and, therefore, would not be so expensive.
Endymion's holiday was only to last a week, and Myra seemed jealous of his sparing any portion of it to Nigel ; yjt the rector's son was sedulous in his endeavors to enjoy the so- ciety of his former companion. There seemed some reason for liis calling at the hall every day. Mr. Ferrars broke through his habits, and invited Nigel to dine with them ; and after dinner, saying that he would visit Mrs. Ferrars, Avho was un- well, loft them alone. It was the only time they had yet been alone. Endymion found that there was no change in the feel- ings and views of Nigel respecting Church matters, except that his sentiments and opinions were more assured, and, if possible, more advanced. He would not tolerate anv reference to the state of the nation ; it was the state of the Church which en- grossed his being. No government was endurable that was not divine. The Church was divine, and on that ho took his stand.
Nigel was to take his degree next term, and orders as soon
\\-2
EXDYMIOX.
11
as pos.siblo. IIu looked forward with confidoncc, after doul)t- Icss a period of disturbance, confusion, probably violence, and even anarchy, to the establishment of an ecclesiastical polity that would be catholic throughout the realm. Endymion just intimated the very contrary opinions that Jawett held upon these matters, and mentioned, though not as an adherent, some of the cosmopolitan sentiments of Waldersharo.
"The Church is cosmopolitan," said Nigel; "the only practicable means by which you can attain to identity of motive ^md action."
Then they rejoined Myra, but Xigel soon recurred to the absorbing theme. His powers had much developed since he and Endymion used to wander together over llurstley Chase. He had great eloquence, his views were startling and com- manding, and his exi)rcssions forcible and picturesque. All was heightened, too, by his striking personal appearance and the beauty of his voice. He seemed something between a young prophet and an inquisitor ; a remarkable blending of enthusiasm and self-control.
A person more experienced in human nature than Endym- ion might have observed that all this time, while Nigel was to all appearances chiefly addressing himself to Endymion, ho was, in fact, endeavoring to impress his sister. Endymion knew, from the correspondence of Mp'a, that Nigel had been, especially in the summer, much at Hurstley ; and when he was alone with his sister, he could not help remarking, ''Nigel is :as strong as ever in his view^s."
" Yes," she replied ; *' he is very clever and very good-look- ing. It is a pity he is going into the Church. I do not like clergymen. "
On the third day of the visit, Mrs. Ferrars was announced to be unwell, and in the evening very unwell ; and Mr. Ferrai-s sent to the nearest medical man, and he was distant, to attend her. The medical man did not arrive until jiast midnight, and, after visiting his patient, looked grave. She had fever, but of what character it was difficult to decide. The medi- cal man had brought some remedies with him, and ho staid the night at the hall. It was a night of anxiety and alarm.
FOUR TERRIBLE HOURS.
113
-look- ^t liko
bnccd }rrar3 Ittend light, fever, iiedi- I staid Ifirm,
and the household did not retire until nearly the break of dawn.
The next day it seemed that tlie wliole of the Penruddock family were in the liouse. ^frs. Penruddock insisted on nurs- ing Mrs. Ferrars, and her husband looked as if he tliought ho might be wanted. It was unreasonable that Nigel should bo left alone. His presence, always pleasing, was a relief to an anxious family, and who were beginning to get alarmed. The fever did not subside. On the contrary, it increased, and tliere were other dangerous symptoms. There was a pliysician of fame at Oxford, whom Nigel wished they would call in. Mat- ters were too pressing to Avait for jiosts, and too complicated to trust to an ordinary messenger. Nigel, Avho was always well mounted, was in his saddle in an instant. lie seemed to be all resource, consolation, and energy : " If I am fortunate, he will be here in four hours ; at all events, I will not return alone."
Four terrible hours were these : Mr. Ferrars, restless and sad, and listening with a vacant or an absent look to the kind and unceasing talk of the rector ; Myra, silent in her mother's chamber ; and Endymion, wandering about alone with his eyes full of tears. This was the Merrie Christmas he had talked of, and this his long-looked-for holida}'. He could think of no- thing but his mother's kindness ; and the days gone by, when she was so briglit and hai)py, came back to him with painful vividness. It seemed to him that he belonged to a doomed and unhappy family. Youth and its unconscious mood had hitherto driven tliis thouglit from his mind ; but it occurred to him now, and would not be driven away.
Nigel was fortunate. Before sunset he returned to Ilurst- ley in a postchaise with the Oxford physician, whom he had furnished with an able and accurate diagnosis of the case. All that art could devise, and all that devotion could suggest, were lavished on the sufferer, but in vain ; and four days after- ward, the last day of Endymion's long-awaited holiday, Mr. Ferrars closed for ever the eyes of that brilliant being, Avho, with some weaknesses, but many noble rpialities, had shared with no unequal spirit the splendor and the adversity of his existence.
114
EXD YMTOy.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Nigel took a higli degree and obtained first-class lionors. He was ordained by the bisliop of the diocese .is soon after as possible. His companions, -who looked up to him -with every expectation of his eminence and influence, were disa})i)(Miited, however, in the course of life on which he decided. It was different from that which he had led them to su})po.se it Avould be. They had counted on his becoming a resident light of llie University, filling its highest odiccs, and ultimately reaching the loftiest stations in the Church. Instead of that, he an- nounced that ho luid resolved to become a curate to his father, and that he was about to bury liimsclf in the solitude of Ilurstley.
It was in the earlv summer followiiig the death of Mrs. Ferrars that he settled there. He was frequently at the hall, and became intimate with 3Ir. Ferrars. Notwithstanding the difference of age, there was between them a sympathy of knowl- edge and thought. In spite of his decided mind, Nigel listened to Mr. Ferrars with deference, soliciting his judgment, and hanging, as it were, on his accents of wise experience and re- fined taste. So Nigel became a favorite with Mr. Ferrars ; for there arc few things more flattering than the graceful submis- sion of an accomplished intellect, and, when accompanied by youth, the spell is sometimes fascinating.
The death of his wife seemed to have been a great blow to Mr. Ferrars. The expression of his careworn, yet still hand- some, countenance became, if possible, more saddened. It was with difficulty that his daughter could induce liim to take ex- ercise, and he had lost altogether that seeming interest in their outer world which once at least he affected to feel. Myra, though ever content to be alone, had given up herself much to her father since his great sorrow ; but she felt that her efforts to distract him from his broodings were not eminently success- ful, and she hailed with a feeling of relief the establishment of Nigel in the parish, and the consequent intimacy that arose between him and her father.
m
NIGEL AT THE HALL.
115
Xigcl and Myra were necessarily under tlicac circumstances llirown mucii togetlier. As time advanced )e passed his even- ings generally at the hall, for he was a proficient in the only game which interested Mr. Ferrars, and that was chess. Read- ing and writing all day, ^fr. Ferrars required some remission of attention, and his rehixation was chess. Before the games, and between the games, and during delightful tea-time, and for the happy quarter of an hour which ensued wlien the chief cmi)loyment of the evening ceased, Nigel appealed much to Myra, and endeavored to draw out her mind and feelings, lie lent her books, and books that favored, indirectly at least, his own peculiar views — volumes of divine poesy that had none of the twang of psalmody, tales of tender and sometimes wild and brilliant fancy, but ever full of symbolic truth.
Chess-i)liiying requires comi)lete abstraction, and Nigel, though he was a double iirst, occasionally lost a game from a lapse in that condensed attention that secures triumph. The fact is, he was too frequently thinking of something else besides the moves on the board, and his ear was engaged while his eye wandered, if Myra chanced to rise from her seat or make the slightest observation.
The woods were beginning to assume the first fair livery of autumn, when it is beautiful without decay. The lime aid the larch had not yet dropjoed a golden leaf, and the burnished beeches flamed in the sun. Every now and then an occasional oak or elm rose, still as full of deep green foliage as if it were midsummer ; while the dark verdure of the pines sprang up with effective contrast amid the gleaming and resplendent chestnuts.
There was a glade at Ilurstley, bounded on each side with masses of yew, their dark green lurms now studded with crim- son berries. Myra was walking one morning in this glade when she met Nigel, who w-as on one of his daily i)ilgrimage3, and he turned round and walked by her side.
*' I am sure I can not give you news of 5'our brother," he said, "but I have had a letter this morning from Endvmion. He seems to take great interest in his debating club."
*' I am so glad he has become a member of it," said Myra.
116
EXDYMIOX.
**Tliat kind Mr. Treneliarcl, wliom I .sliall never sec to tluiiik him for all his goodncs.s to Endymion, proposed him. It occu- pies liis evenings twice a week, and then it gives him subjects to think of and read up in the interval."
**Ycs; it is a good thing," said Nigel, moodily; *'and if he is destined for public life, which ])C!rhaps he maybe, no con- temptible discipline."
*' Dear boy ! " said Myra, with a sigh. '* I do not sec what public life he is destined to, excej)t slaving at a desk. But sometimes one has dreams."
" Yes ; wc all have dreams," said Xigel, with an air of ab- straction.
** It is impossible to resist the fascination of a fine autum- nal morn," said Myra ; "but give me the long days of summer and its rich leafy joys. I like to wander about, and dine at nine o'clock."
'* Delightful, doubtless, Avith a sympathizing companion."
"Endymion was such a charming companion," said Myra.
" But he has left us," said Nigel ; " and you are alone."
" I am alone," said Myra ; " but I am used to solitude, and I can think of him."
"Would I were Endymion," said Nigel, "to be thought of by you."
Myra looked at him with something of a stare ; but he con- tinued :
" All seasons would be to me fascination, Avere I only by your side. Yes ; I can no longer repress the irresistible con- fession of my love. I am here, and I am here only, because I love you. I quitted Oxford and all its pride that I might have the occasional delight of being your companion. I was not presumptuous in my thoughts, and believed that would con- tent me ; but I can no longer resist the consummate spell, and I offer you my heart and my life."
"I am amazed; I am a little overwhelmed," said Myra. " Pardon me, dear Mr. Penruddock — dear Nigel — you speak of things of which. I have not thought."
" Think of them ! I implore you to think of them, and now ! "
A SISTEH'S devotiox.
117
((
rlit of
i
Wc are a fallen family," suiel Myni, '' perhaps a doomeil one. Wc arc not people to connect yourself with. You havo witnesdctl sonic of our sorrows, and soothed them. I shall bo ever grateful to you for the past. But I sometimes feel our cup is not yet full, and I have long resolved to bear my cross alone. But, irrespective of all other considerations, I can never leave my father."
*'I have spoken to your father," said Nigel, *'and he ap- proved my suit."
" While my father lives I shall not ([uit him," said Myra ;. *'' but, let me not mislead you, 1 do not live for my father — I live for another."
**For another ?" inquired Xigel, with anxiety.
*'For one you know. My life is devoted to Endymion. There is a mystic bond between us, originating, perlia]M, in the circumstance of our birth ; for wc arc twins. I never mean ta embarrass him with a sister's love, and perhaps hereafter may see less of him even than I sec now ; but I shall be in the ■world, whatever be my lot, high or low — the active, stirring world — working for him, thinking alone of him. Yes ; mold- ing events and circumstances in his favor ;" and she spoke with fiery animation. "I have brought myself, by long meditation, to the conviction that a human being with a settled purpose must accomplish it, and that nothing can resist a will that will stake vcn existence for its fullillment."
CHAPTER XXVII.
, and
^:
Endymioit had returned to his labors, after the death of his mother, much dispirited. Though young and hopeful, his tender heart could not be insensible to the tragic end. There is anguish in the recollection that we have not adequately ap- preciated the affection of those whom we have loved and lost. It tortured him ta feel that he had often accepted with care- lessness or indifference the homage of a heart that had been to him ever faithful :.i its multiplied devotion. Then, though
lii I
I '} ,6
:| it
1
118
END Y MI ON.
he Avas not of a melancholy and hrooding nature, in this mo- ment of bereavement he could not drive from his mind the consciousness that there had long been hanging over his home a dark lot, as it Avere, of progressive adversity. His family seemed alwavs sinkinor, and he felt conscious how ihe sanguine spirit of his mother had sustained them in their trials. His father had already made him the depository of his hopeless cares ; and if anything happened to that father, old and worn out before his time, what would become of Myra ?
Nigel, who in their great calamity seemed to have thought of everything, and to have done everything, had written to the ohief of the office, and also to Mr. Trenchard, explaining the cause of the absence of Endymion from his duties. Thciv- Avere no explanations, therefore, ncecssary when he reappeared * no complaints, but only sympathy and general kindness. In "Warwick Street there Avas unaffected sorroAv ; Sylvia Avept and AATut into the prettiest mourning for her patroness, and ]Mr. "Rodney AA'ore a crape on his hat. '•! never saAV her," said Imogene, "but I am told she Avas heaA'cnly."
Waldcrsharc Avas very kind to Endymion, and used to take him to the House of Commons on interesting CA'enings, and, if lie succeeded in getting Endymion a place under the gallery, Avould come and talk to him in the course of the night, and sometimes introduce him to the mysteries of Bellamy's, Avliere Endymion had the satisfaction of partaking of a steak in the presence of statesmen and senators.
'' You are in the precincts of public life,"' said Waldcrshare ; *''aud if you ever enter it, AA'hich I think you Avill," he Avould add thoughtfully, *' it Avill be interesting for you to remember that you liaA'O seen these cliaracters, many of Avhom Avill then have passed aAvay, like the shades of a magic lantern," ho added, with something between a sigh and a smile. '*'One of my constitutents sent me a homily this morning, the burden of which was, I neA'er thought of death. The idiot ! I never think of anything else. It is my weakness. One should ncA'cr think of death. One should think of life. That is real piety."
This spring and summer Averc passed tranquilly by Endym- ion, but not unprofitably. He ncA'er went to any place of
AN A UTUMX VISIT TO HOME.
119
:liai'0 ; h\ould 'inljcr tlicii ,," lie lie of iirden Inevcr never lety." Iclym-
\Q of
public amusement, and, clicrisliing his sorrow, declined those slight openings to social life which occasionally offered them- selves even to him ; but he attended his debating club with regularity, and, though silent, studied every subject which was brought before it. It interested him to compare their sayings and doings with those of the House of Commons, and he found advantage in the critical comparison. Though not in what is styled society, his mind did not rust from the want of intelli- gent companions. The clear perception, accurate knowledge, and unerring judgment of Trenchard, the fantastic cynicism of St. Barbe, and all the stores of the exuberant and imagina- tive "Waldersharc were brought to bear on a young and plastic intelligence, gifted with a quick though not a too profound sensibility which soon ripened into tact, and which, after due discrimination, was tenacious of beneficial impressions.
In the autumn, Endymion returned home for a long visit and a happy one. He found Nigel settled at Ilurstley, and almost domesticated at the hall ; his father more cheerful than his sister's earlier letters had led him to suppose ; and she her- self so delighted by the constant companionship of her brother that she seemed to have resumed all her original pride of life.
Nearly two years' acquaintance, however limited, with tlie world had already exercised a ripening influence over Endym- ion. Nigel soon perceived this, though, with a native tact which circumstances had developed, Endymion avoided obtrud- ing his new conclusions upon his former instructor. But that deep and eager spirit, unwilling ever to let a votary escape, and absorbed intellectually by one vast idea, would not be baffled. Nigel had not renounced the early view of Endymion taking orders, and spoke of his London life as an incident which, with his youth, he might in time only look upon as an episode in his existence.
** I trust I shall ever be a devoted son of the Church," said Endymion; *'but I confess I feel no predisposition to take orders, even if I had the opportunity, which probably I never shall have. If I were to choose my career, it would bo public life. I am on the last step of the ladder, and I do not suppose that I can ever be anything but a drudge. But even that
120
ENDYMION.
1
would interest me. It brings one in contact with those who are playing the great game. One at least fancies one com- prehends something of the government of mankind. Mr. Waldershare takes me often to the House of Commons, and, I must say, I am passionately fond of it."
After Endymion's return to London that scene occurred between Nigel and Myra, in the glade at Hurstley, which we have noticed in the preceding chapter. In the evening of that day Nigel did not pay his accustomed visit to the hall, and the father and the daughter were alone. Then it was, notwith- standing evident agitation, and even with some degree of solemnity, that Mr. Ferrars broke to his daughter that there was a subject on which he wished seriously to confer with her.
" Is it about Nigel ? " she inquired, with calmness.
"It isaboutNigeh"
" I have seen him, and he has spoken to mc."
'' And what have you replied ? "
" What I fear will not be satisfactory to you, sir, but what is irrevocable."
'' Your union would give mc life and hope," said Mr. Fer- rars ; and then, as she remained silent, he continued after a pause: "For its happiness there seems every security. lie is of good family, and witli adequate means, and, I firmly be- lieve, no inconsiderable future. His abilities are already recog- nized ; his disposition is noble. As for his personal qualities, you arc a fitter judge than I am ; ]3ut, for my part, I never saw a countenance that more became the beauty and nobility of his character. "
"I think him very good-looking," said Myra, "and there is no doubt lie is clever, and he has shown himself, on more than one occasion, amiable."
" Then what more can you require ^ " said ^Mr. Ferrars.
" I require nothing ; I do not wish to marry."
" But my daughter, my dearest daughter," said Mr. Fer- rars, "bear with the anxiety of a parent who is at least devoted to you. Our separation would be my last and severest sorrow, and I have had many ; but there is no necessity to consider
f
sc wlio
e com-
. Mr.
and, I
:currcd licli we of that and the otwitli- ^ree of it there er with
lit what
Ir. Fcr- aftcr a
y. no
mly bc- i^ rccog- lialities, Iver saw of his
there In more
[ars.
[r. Fer- levotcd sorrow, )nsider
"^ UEADSTRONG GIRL:'
121
y ^
I
fi
tliat case, for Nigel is content, is more tlian content, lo live as your Imsband under tliis roof."
'•So he told mc."
''And that removed one objection that you might naturally feel?"
"I certainly should never leave you, sir," said Myra, "and I told Nigel so ; but that contingency had nothing to do with my decision. I declined his offer, because I have no wish to marry."
"Women are born to be murricd," said Mr. Ferrars.
"And yet I believe most marriages arc iinhapi^y," said Myra.
" Oh ! if your objection to marry Nigel arises from an ab- stract objection to marriage itself," said Mr. Fcrrars, "it is a subject which we miglit talk over calmly, and perhaps remove your prejudices."
"I have no prejudices against marriage," rejoined Myra. "It is likely enougli that I may marry some day, and probably make an unhappy marriage ; but that is not the question be- fore us. It is whether I should marry Nigel. That can not be, my dear father, and he knows it. I have assured him so in a manner which can not be mistaken."
" We are a doomed family!" exclaimed the unhappy Mr. Ferrars, clasping his hands.
"So I have long felt," said Myra. "I can bear our lot ; but I want no strangers to be introduced to share its bitterness, and soothe us with their sympathy."
"You speak like a girl," said Mr. Ferrars, "and a head- strong girl, which j'ou always have been. You know not what you are talking about. It is a matter of life or death. Y^'our decorous marriage Avould have saved us from absolute ruin."
"Alone, I can meet absolute ruin," said Myra. "I have long contemplated such a contingency, and am prepared for it. My marriage with Nigel could hardly save you, sir, from such a visitation, if it be impending. But I trust in that respect, if in no other, you have used a little of the language of exag- geration. I have never received, and I htive never presumed to seek, any knowledge of your affairs ; but I have assumed.
I'i I
p i
I i
122
ENDYMION.
that for your life, somehow or otlier, you would be permitted to exist without disgi-ace. If I survive you, I have neither care nor fear."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
In the following sf i*ing a vexatious incident occurred in Warwick Street. The highly considered county member, who was the yearly tenant of Mr. Rodney's first floor, and had been always a valuable patron, suddenly died. An adjourned de- bate, a tough beefsteak, a select committee still harder, and an influenza caught at three o'clock in the morning in an im- prudent but irresistible walk home with a confidential Lord of the Treasury, had combined very sensibly to affect the income of Mr. Rodney. At first he was sanguine that such a desirable dwelling would soon find a suitable inhabitant, especially as Mr. Waldersharc assured him that he would mention the mat- ter to all his friends. But time rolled on, and the rooms were still vacant ; and the fastidious Rodneys, who at first would only listen to a yearly tenant, began to reduce their expecta- tions. Matters had arrived at such a pass in May, tlia^, for the first time in their experience, they actually condescended to hoist an announcement of furnished apartments.
In this state of affairs a cab rattled up to the house one morning, out of which a young gentleman jumped briskly, and, ki^ ocking at the door, asked, of the servant who opened it, whether he might see the apartments. He was a young man, apparently not more than one or two and twenty, of a graceful figure, somewhat above the middle height, fair, with a countenance not absolutely regular, but calm and high-bred. His dress was in the best taste, but to a practiced eye had something of a foreign cut, and he wore a slight mustache.
"The rooms will suit me," he said, ''and I have no doubt the price you ask for them is a just one ; " and he bowed with high-bred courtesy to Sylvia, who was now in attendance on liim, and who stood with her pretty hands in the pretty pock- ets of her pretty apron.
I
iiittecl leither
•red in sr, wlio id been led de- er, and an im- Lord of income esirablo lially as he mat- ms were , would ixpecta- liat, for scended
lince on pock-
COLONEL ALBERT.
123
n
I am glad to liear tliat," said Sylvia. *' We liavo never let them before, except to a yearly tenant."
''And if we suit each other," said the gentleman, "1 should have no great objection to become such."
**In these matters," said Sylvia, after a little hesitation, "we give and receive references. Mr. Rodney is well known in this neighborhood and in Westminster generally ; but I dare say," she adroitly added, ''he has many acquaintances known to you, sir."
"Not very likely," replied the young gentleman; "fori am a foreigner, and only arrived in England this morning ; " though he spoke English without the slightest accent.
Sylvia looked a little perplexed ; but ho continued : "It is <piite just that you should be assured to wliom you are letting your lodgings. The only reference I can give you is to my banker, but he is almost too great a man for such matters. Perhaps," he added, pulling out a ca.-e from his breast pocket, and taking out of it a note, Avhich he handed to Sylvia, "this may assure you that your rent will be paid."
Sylvia took a rapid glance at the hundred-pound note, and twisting it into her little pocket witli apparent sangfroid^ though she held it with a tight grasp, murmured that it was quite unnecessary, and then offered to give her new lodger an acknowledgment of it.
"That is really unnecessary," he replied. " Your appear- ance commands from me that entire confidence which on your part you very properly refuse to a stranger and a foreigner, like myself."
" What a charming young man ! " thought Sylvia, pressing with emotion her hundred-pound note.
" Now," continued the young gentleman, "I will return to the station to release my servant, who is a prisoner there with my luggage. Be pleased to make him at home. I shall myself not return probably till the evening ; and in the mean time," he added, giving Sylvia his card, "you will admit any- thing that arrives here addressed to Colonel Albert."
The settlement of Colons Albert in Warwick Street was an event of no slight importance. It superseded for a time all
124
ENDYMIOy.
■other topics of conversatiou, and was discussed a' length in the evenings, especially with 3Ir. Vigo. Who wps he ? And in "what service was he colonel ? Mr. Rodney, like a man of the world, assumed that all necessary information would in time be obtained from the colonel's servant ; hut even men of the world sometimes miscalculate. The servant, who Avas a Bel- gian, had only been engaged by the colonel at Brussels a few days before his departure for England, and absolutely knew nothing of his master, except that he was a gentleman with l)lenty of money and sufficient luggage. Sylvia, who was the only person who had seen the colonel, was strongly in his favor. Mr. Eodncy looked doubtful, and avoided any definite opinion until he had had the advantage of an interview with his new lodger. But this was not easy to obtain. Colonel Albert had no wish to see the master of the house, and, if he ever had that desire, his servant would accordingly communicate it in the proper quarter. At present he w'as satisfied "with all the ar- rangements, and wished neither to make nor to receive re- marks. The habits of the new lodger were somewhat of a recluse. lie was generally engaged in his rooms the whole day, and seldom left them till the evening, and nobody, as yet, had called upon him. Under these circumstances Imogenc was instructed to open the matter to ^^y. Waldershare when she presided over his breakfast table ; aud that gentleman said he would make inquiries about the colonel at the Travelers' Club, where Waldershare passed n'cat deal of his time. "If he be anybody," said Mr. Waldersaare, *' he is sure in time to h3 known there, for he Avill be introduced as a visitor." At present, however, it turned out that ''The Travelers'"' knew nothing of Colonel Albert ; and time went on, and Colonel Albert was not introduced as a visitor there.
After a little while there was a change in the habits of the colonel. One morning, about noon, a groom, extremely well appointed, and having under his charge a couple of steeds of "breed and beauty, called at Warwick Street, and the colonel rode out, and was long absent, and after that every day, and generally at the same hour, mounted his horse. Mr. Rodney was never wearied of catching a glimpse of his distinguished
'
LWUYJIIOX .iUMMOXhl) HOME.
1-5
in the Lnd in of the n time of the a Bel- s a few f knew m with rt^as the 3 favor, opinion liis new ert had ad that
in the the ar- rive re- at of a ) whole
as yet, mogcne *e when
an said
avelers'
'af
time to
At
" knew
!oloncl
of the bly well [ceds of Icoloncl and
lodney kiishcd
lodger over the blinds of the gronnd-tloor room, and of admir- ing the coloncrs commanding ])roscncc in his saddle, distin- gnislicd as his scat was alike by its grace and vigor.
In the conr3C of a little time, iinother incident connected with the colonel occnrred which attnictcd notice and excited interest. Toward the evening a brougham, marked, but (jui- ctly, with a foreign coronet, .^topjed frc(iuently at Mr. IJod- ney's house, and a visitor to the colonel tippearcd in the form of a middle-aged gentleman Avho never gave his name, and evaded, it seemed with practiced dexterity, every effort, however adroit, to obtain it. The valet was tried on this head also, and re- plied with simplicity that he did not know the gentleman's name, but he was always called the Baron.
In the middle of June a ])acket arrived one day by the coach, from the rector of Ilurstley, adtlressed to Endymion, announcing his father's dangerous illness, and rerp^f^sting him instantly to repair home. Myra was too much occupied to write even a line.
CIIAPTEIi XXIX.
It was strange that Myra did not write, were it only a line. It was so unlike her. IIoav often this occurred to Endymion during his wearisome and anxious travel ! When the coach reached Ilurstley, he found Mr. Penruddock waiting for him. Before he could inquire after ^lis father, that gentleman said, "Myra is at the rectory ; you are to come on there."
*'Andmy father— ?"
''Matters are critical," said ]\lr. Penruddock, as it were avoiding a direct answer, and hastening his pace.
It was literally not a five minutes' Avalk from the village inn to the rectory, and they walked in silence. The rector took Endymion at once into his study ; for we can hardly call it a library, though some shelves of books were there, and many stuffed birds.
Tlie rector closed the door with care, and looked distressed ; ^nd, beckoning to Endymion to be seated, he said, while still
126
E2TDYMI0X.
U
5 ■.'
.:) .
standing and half turning away his head, ''My dear hoy, pro pare yourself for tiic wor.<t."
"All ! he is gone then ! my dear, dear fallier ! " and En- dymion hurst into passionate tears, and leaned on the tahlc, iiis face hid in his hands.
The rector walked up and down the room with an agitated countenance, lie could not deny, it would seem, the infer- ence of Endymion ; and yet he did not proffer those consola- tions Avhicli might he urged, and which it became one in his capacity peculiarly to urge.
"I must see Myra," said Endymion, eagerly, looking up with a wild air and streaming c}es.
''Not yet," said the rector; ''she is much disturbed. Your poor father is no more ; it is too true ; but," and hero the rector hesitated, "he did not die happily."
"What do you mean ?" said Endymion.
" Your poor father had much to try him," said the rector. " His life, since he was among us here, was a life, for him, of adversity — perhaps of great adversity — yet he bore up against it with a Christian spirit ; he never repined. There was much that was noble and exalted in his character. But ho never overcame the loss of vour dear mother. IIo was never himself afterward. He was not always master of himself. I could bear witness to that,"' said the rector, talking, as it Avere, to himself. " Yes ; I could conscientiously give evidence to that effect—"
" What effect ?" asked Endymion, with a painful scrutiny.
"I could show," stiid the rector, speaking slowly, and in a low voice, "and others could show, that he was not master of him.-elf when he committed the rash act."
"Oh! Mr. Penruddock !" exclaimed Endymion, starting from his chair, and seizing the rector by his arm. "What is all this?"
"That a great sorrow has come ujion you, and your sister, and all of us," said Mr. Penruddock ; "and you, and she, and all of us must bow before the Divine Avill in trembling, though in hope. Your father's death was not natural. "
Such was the end of William Pitt Ferrars, on whom nature.
A SOIiROWFUL MEETLWa.
127
hat is
*""o'
opportunity, and culture api)eare(l to hr.ve showered every ad- vantage, llis abihties were considerable, his ambition greater. Though intensely worldly, ho was not devoid of affections. lie found refuge in suicide, as many do, from want of imagina- tion. The present was too hard for liini, and his future was only a chaotic nebula.
Endymion did not sc^ his sister that evening. She was not made aware of his arrival, and Avas alone with Mrs. Penruddock, who never left her night or da v. The rector took charge of her brother, and had a sofa-bed made for liim in the kind man's room. lie was never to be alone. Never the whole night did poor Endymion close his eyes ; and he was almost as much agitated about the impending interview with Myra, as about the dark event of terror that had been disclosed to him.
Yet that dreaded interview must take place ; and, about noon, the rector told hin. that Myra was in the drawing-room II alone, and would receive him. He tottered as he crossed the
jf hall ; grief and physical exhaustion had unmanned him ; his
eyes were streaming with tears ; he paused for a moment with his hand upon the door ; he dreaded the anguish of her coun- tenance.
She advanced and embraced him with tenderness ; her face was grave, but not a tear even glistened.
" I have been living in a tragedy for years," said Myra, in a low, hollow voice ; ''and the catastrophe has now arrived."
"Oh, my dear father!" exclaimed Endymion; and he burst into a renewed paroxysm of grief.
'•'Yes ; he was dear to us, and we were dear to him," said Myra; "but the curtain has fallen. We liavc to exert our- selves. Energy and self-control were never more necessary to two human beings than to us. Here are his keys ; his pa])crs must be examined by no one but ourselves. There is a terrible ceremony taking place, or impending. When it is all over, we must visit the hall at least once more. "
The whole neighborhood was full of sorrow for the event, and of sympathy for those bereft. It was universally agreed that Mr. Ferrars had never recovered the death of his wife ; had never been the same man after it ; had become; distrait.
128
EKDYMION.
absent, Avaiulerinf^ in liis mind, and the victim of an invincible melancholy. Several instances were given of his inability to manage his affairs. The jnry, with Farmer Thornbcrry for foreman, hesitated not in giving a becoming verdict. In those days information traveled slowly. There were no railroads then, and no tclopraphs, and not many clubs. A Avcek elapsed before the sad occurrence Avas chronicled in a provincial paper, and another week before the report was reproduced in London, iind tlien in an obscure corner of the journal, and in small print. Everything gets about at last, and the world began to stare and tnlk ; bat it passed unnoticed to the sufferers, except l)y a letter from Zcnobia, received at Ilurstley after ^Myra hr.d departed from her kind friends. Zenobia was shocked, nay, overwhelmed, by what she had heard ; wanted to know if sho could be of use ; offered to do anything ; begged Myra to come and stay with her in St. James' Square ; and assured her that, if that were not convenient, when her mourning was over, Ze- nobia would present her at court, Just the same as if she were her own daughter.
When the fatal keys were used, and the papers of ^Mr. Fer- rars examined, it turned out worse than even ^lyra, in her darkest prescience, had anticipated. Iler father had died ab- solutely penniless. As executor of his father, the funds settled on his wife had remained under his sole control, and they Iiad entirely disappeared. There was a letter addressed to Myra on this subject. She read it with a pale face, said nothing, and, •without showing it to Endymion, destroyed it. There was to be an immediate sale of their effects at the hall. It was calcu- lated that the expenses of the funeral and all the country bills might be defrayed by its proceeds.
**And there will be enough left for mc," said Myra. *'I only want ten pounds ; for I have ascertained that there is no part of England where ten pounds will not take me."
Endymion sighed and nearly wept when she said these things. "No," he would add ; '* we must never part."
" That would insure our common ruin," said Myra. " No ; I will never embarrass you with a sister. You can only just subsist ; for you could not well live in a garret, except at the
tup: xi:rciiATi:Ls.
1-2!)
Ivodiicys'. I sec my way," said Myra ; '* I liave long meditated over llii-s — I can draw, I can sini:. I can speak many tongues; J ought to be able to get food and clothing ; I may get some- thing more. And I shall always be content ; for I shall always bo thinking of yon. However humble even my lot, if my will is concentrated on one purpose, it must ultimately effect it. That is my creed," she said, "and I hold it fervently. [ will stay with these dear peo^de for a little while. They are not exactly the family on which I ought to trespass. But never mind. You will be a great nnin some day, Endymion, and you will remember the good Penru'ldocks."'
"I
is no
these
I' No;
just
It the
1
CHAPTER XXX.
One of the most remarkable families that have ever flour- ished in England were the XErcii.vTELS. Their founder was a, Swiss, who had established a banking house of high repnto in England in the latter part of the eighteenth century, and, irrespective of a powerful domestic connection, had in time pretty well engrossed the largest and best portion of foreign banking business. When the great French Revolution occurred, all the emigrants deposited their jewels and their treasure with the Neuchatels. As the disturbances spread, their example was followed by the alarmed proprietors and capitalists of the rest of Europe ; and, independently of their own considerable moans, the Xcuchatels thus had the command for a quarter of a cen- tury, more or less, of adventitious millions. They were scru- pulous and faithful stewards ; but they were doubtless repaid for their vigilance, their anxiety, and often their risk, by tho opportunities which these rare resources permitted them to enjoy. One of the Xcuchatels was a favorite of Mr. Pitt, and assisted the great statesman in his vast financial arrangements. This Neuchatel was {?. mar. of large capacity, and thoroughly understood his period The minister wished to introduce him to public life, would have opened Parliament to him, and no doubt have shov^-.red on him honors and titles. But Neuchatel
180
EXDYMTOy.
(Icclined tlic.^c overtures, lie was one of tlio.sc (strong minds who will concentrate their energies on one ol)jeet ; without jtersonal vanity, but with a deep-^eatetl pride in the future. He wa.^' always preparing for his posterity. (Joverned by this l)a.ssi()n, although Ik- himself would have been content to live for ever in Bishopsgate Street, where he was born, lie had be- come possessed of a vast principality, and which, strange to say, with every advantage of splendor and natural beauty, was not an hour's drive from Whitechapel.
IIainal'LT IIoisi: had been raised by a British i)eer in the days when nobks were fond of building Palladian i)alaces. It Avas a chief work of Sir William Chambers, and in its style, its beauty, and almost in its dimensions, was a rival of Stowo or Wanstead. It stood in a deer park, and was snrrounded by a royal forest. The family that had raised it wore out in the earlier part of this century. It was supposed that the place must be destroyed and dismantled. It was too vast for a citi- zen, and the locality was no longer sufticiently refined for a conscript father. In this dilemma, Nenchatel stepped in and purchased the whole affair — palace, and park, and deer, and pictures, and halls, and galleries of statue and bust, and furni- ture, and even wines, and all the farms that remained, and all the seigneurial rights in the royal forest. But he never lived there. Though he spared nothing in the maintenance and the improvement of the domain, except on a Sunday he never visited it, and wj ; never known to sleep under its roof. '^ It Avill be ready for those who come after me," he Avould remark, Avith a modest smile.
Those who came after him were two sons, betAA'een whom his millions were divided ; and Adrian, the eldest, in addition to his share, Avas made the lord of Ilainault. Adrian had in- herited something more, and something more precious, than his father's treasure — a not inferior capacity, united, in his case, Avitli much culture, and with a worldly ambition to Avhich his father was a stranger. So long as that father lived, Adrian had been extremely circumspect. He seemed only devoted to business, and to model his conduct on that of his eminent sire. That father aa'Iio had recognized with pride and satisfaction
1
ADIUAX M-rCIIMKL
131
wliom dition ad in-
tlian in his Nvhicli .drian ;ed to
sire, iction
\
his capacity, and wlio was witliout jealousy, had initiated his son during his lifetime in all the secrets of his wondrous craft, and had intrusted him with a leading part in their affairs. Adrian had waited in Downing Street on Lord Liverpool, as his father years hefore had waited on Mr. Pitt.
Tlie Cider Neuchatel departed this life a little hefore the second French Kevolution of 1830, which liad heen so fatal to Mr. Ferrars. Adrian, who had never committed himself in l)()litics, further than sitting a short time for a rej)uted Tory borough for which he paid a rent of a thousand a year to the pr()[)rietor, but who was known to have been nurtured in the Kcliool of Pitt and Wellington, astonished the world by voting for Lord CJrcy's Reform Bill, and announcing himself as a Liberal. This was a large lish for the new Liberal Treasury to capture ; their triumph was great, and they determined to show that they appreciated the power and the influence of their new ally. At the dissolution of 1831, Adrian Neuchatel was u candidate for a popular constituency, and was elected at the head of the poll. His brother, Melchior, was also returned, and a nephew. The Liberals were alarmed by a subscription of fabulous dimensions said to have been collected by the To- ries to influence the General Election ; and the undoubted con- tribution of a noble duke was particularly mentioned, which alone appalled the heart of Brooks'. The matter was put be- fore Xeuchatel, as he entered the club, to w^hich he '^ad been recently elected with acclamation. '* So you are a little fright- ened," he said, with a peculiarly witching smile wdiich he had, half mockery and half good nature ; as much as to say, '' I will do what you wish, but I see through you and everybody else." '' So you are a little frightened. "Well ; we City men must see what we can do against the dukes. You may put me down for double his amount."
Adrian purchased a very fine mansion in Portland Place, and took up his residence formally at Ilaiuault. He delighted in the place, and to dwell there in a manner becoming the scene had always been one of his dreams. Now he lived there with unbounded expenditure. He was passionately fond of horses, and even in his father's lifetime had run some at New-
102
EXD YMIOX.
markot in another name. The slables at Ilainault liad been modeled on those at Chantilly, and were almost as splendid a pile as the mansion itself. Thc}Mvere soon full, and of first- rate animals in their ditterent ways. With his choice teams Adrian could reach Bishopsgate from Ilainault, particularly if there "svere no stoppages in Whitcchapel, in much under an liour.
If he had fifty persons in his stables, there were certainly as many in his park and gardens. These latter were most elab- orate. It seemed there was nothing that Ilainault could not produce : all the fruits and ilowers of the tropics. The con- s^ervatorics and forcing-houses looked, in the distance, like a city of glass. But, after all, the portion of this immense establishment which was most renowned, and perhaps, on the whole, best api)reciated, was the establishment of the kitchen. The chief was the greatest celebrity of Europe ; and he had no limit to his staff, which he had selected with the utmost scru- tiny, maintained with becoming spirit, and vvinnoAvcd with unceasing vigilance. Every day at Ilainault was a banquet. AVliat delighted Adrian was to bring down ivithout notice a trooj) of friends, conscious they would be received as well as if there liad been a preparation of Aveeks. Sometimes it was a body from tlio Stock Exchange, sometimes a host from the House of Commons, sometimes a board of directors with whom he had been transacting business in the morning. It delialited Adrian to see them (juatfing his burgundy, and stuffing down his truf- fles, and his choice pies from Strasbourg, and all the delicate dishes Avhich many of them looked at with wonder, and tasted with timidiiy. And then he Avould, with his particular smile, gay to a brctb.er bank-director whose mouth was full, and who could only answer hirr. with his eyes, "Business gives one an appetite ; eh, Mr. Trodgits ?"
Sunday was always a great day at Ilainault. The Royal and the Stock Exchanges were both of them always fully rep- resented ; and then they often had an opportunity, which they liiglily appreciated, of seeing and conferring with some public chai'i'cters, M. P.s of note or promise, and occasionally a secre- tary of the treasury, or a privy councilor. ** Turtle makes all
1;
MRS. XErCIfA TEL.
133
Royal
li they nublic Isocrc- les nil
mon equal," Adrian would observe. "Our friend Trodgits seemed a little embarrassed at first, when I introduced him to the Right Honorable ; but when they sat next each other at dinner, they soon got on very Avell.*'
On Sunday the guests walked about and amused themselves. No one was allowed to ride or drive ; Mrs. Neuchatel did not like ridinfr and driving on Snndavs. *' I see no harm in it," Faid Adrian, " but I like Avomcn to have their way al)out reli- gion. And you may go to the stables and see the horses, and that might take up the morning. And thon there are the houses ; they Avill amuse you. For my part, I am for a stroll in the forest ;" and then he would lead his companions, after ti delightful ramble, to some spot of agrestic charm, and, look- ing at it with delight, would say, '" Pretty; is not it? Rut then they say this place is not fashionable. It will do, I think, for us City men."
Adrian had married, when very young, a lady selected by his father. The selection seemed a good one. She was the daughter of a most eminent banker, and had herself, though that was of slight importance, a large i)ortion. She w%is a woman of abilities, highly cultivated. Nothing had ever been spared that fIig shoulel possess every possible accomplishment, and acquire every information and grace that it was desirable to attain. She was a linguist, a fine musician, no mean artist ; and she threw out, if she Avillcd it, the treasures of her well- stored and not unimaginative mind with ease and sometimes eloquence. Her person, without being absolutely beautiful, was interesting. There was even a degree of fascinaiion in her brown velvet eyes. And yet Mrs. Neuehatel was not a con- tented spirit; and though she a])preciatcd the great qualities of her husband, and viewed him even with reverence as well as afTeetion, she scarcely contributed to his happiness as much as became her. And for this reason. Whether it were the result of physical organization, or whether it were the satiety which was the consequence of having been born, and bred, and lived for ever, in a society in which wealth was the prime object of existence, and practically the test of excellence, ^[rs. Xeucha- tol had imbibed not merely a contempt for money, but abso-
131
EKDYMIOy.
lutcly a hatred of it. Tlio prosperity of her house depressed her. The stables witli their fifty grooms, and the grounds with their fifty gardeners, and the daily visit of the head cook to pass the bill of fare, were incidents and circumstances that made her melancholy. She looked upon the Stock Exchange coming down to dinner as she would on an inyasion of the Visigoths, and endured the stiff observations or the cumbrous liveliness of the merchants and bank directors with gloomy grace. Something less material might be anticipated from the members of Parliament. But whether they thought it would please the genius of the place, or whether Adrian selected his friends from those who sympathized with his pursuits, the members of Parliament seemed wonderfully to accord with the general tone of the conversation, or varied it only bj indulg- ing in technical talk of their own. Sometimes she would make a desperate effort to change the elements of their society ; something in this way : " I see M. Arago and M. Mignet have arrived here, Adrian. Do not you think we ought to invite them here ? And then you might ask Mr. Macaulay to meet them. You said you wishod to ask Mr. Macaulay."
In one respect the alliance between Adrian and his wife was not an unfortunate one. A woman, and a woman of abilities, fastidious, and inclined to be querulous, might safely be counted on as, in general, insuring for both parties in their union an unsatisfactory and unhappy life. But Adrian, though kind, generous, and indulgent, was so absorbed by his own gront affairs, was a man at the same time of so serene a temper aii<? so supreme a will, that the over-refined phantasies of his wife produced not the slightest effect on the course of his life. Adrian Neuchatel was what very few people are — master in his own house. With a rich varnish of graciousness and favor, he never swerved from his purpose ; and, though willing to effect all things by smiles and sweet temper, he had none of that morbid sensibility which allows some men to fret over a phrase, to be tortured by a sigh, or to be subdued by a tear.
There had been born of this marriage only one child, the greatest heiress in England. She had been christened, after her father, Adriana. She was now about seventeen ; and,
life.
Iter in
I favor,
jing to
)ne of
)ver a
Dar.
I, the
after
and.
!>'
I
f!
AN- ADVERTISEMEXT.
135
hud L^c not been endowed witli the finest disposition and the sweetest temper in the workl, slie must have been spoiled, for both her parents idolized her. To see her every day was for Adrian a reward for all his labors, and in the midst of his greatest affairs he would always snatch a moment to think how he could contribute to her pleasure or lier happiness. All that was rare and delightful and beaiitiful in the world was at her command. There was no limit to the gratification of her wishes. But, alas ! this favored maiden Avished for nothing. Her books interested her, and a beautiful nature ; but she liked to be alone, or with her mother. She was impressed with the horrible and humiliating conviction that she was courted and admired only for her wealth.
"What my daughter requires," said Adrian, as he mused over these domestic contrarieties, '• is a companion of her own age. Her mother is the very Avorst constant companion she could have. She requires somebody with charm, and yet of a commanding mind ; with youthful sympathy, and yet influenc- ing her in the right way. It must be a person of birth ai\d breeding and complete self-respect. I do not want to have any parasites in my house, or affected fine ladies. That would do no good. What I do want is a thing very difficult to procure. And yet they say everything is to be obtained. At least, I have always thought so, and found it so. I have the greatest opin- ion of an adverti .ement in the * Times.' I got some of my best clerks by advertisements in the 'Times.' If I had consulted friends, there would have been no end o^' jobbing for such patronage. One could not trust, in such matters, one's own brother. I will draw up an advertisement and insert it in the ' Times,* and liave the references to my counting-house. I will think over the wording as I drive to town." This was the wording :
ADVERTISEMENT.
A BANKER and his "Wife reqiure a Companion for their only child, -^^ a young lady whose accomplishments and acquirements are already considerable. The friend that they would wish for her must be of about the same age as herself, and in every other respect their lots will bo the same. The person thus desired will be received and treated as a daugh-
ICO
FXDYMTi'y.
!
\l
ter of the liouse, will be allowed her own suite of apartments, her own servants and equipage. She must be a person of birth, breedin;/, and entire self-respect; with a mind and expevience capable of directinuf conduct, and with manners which will engage Lj-^ipathy.— Api)ly to U. II., 4o Bishopsgate Street Within.
This {idvertisement met the eye of Myra at Ilursiley Rec- tory about a month after her father's death, and slie resolved >to answer it. Her reply pleased Mr. Neiichatel. He selected it out of hundreds, and placed himself in communication with Mr. Penruddock. The result was, that Miss Ferrars was to pay a visit to the Xeuchatels ; and if, on experience, they liked ■each otlier, the engagement was to take place.
In the mean time the good rector of llurstley arrived on the previous evening with his ])rccious charge at Ilainault House ; and Avas rewarded for his kind exertions, not only by the pros- pect of assisting ^lyra, but by some present experience of a splendid and unusual scene.
CII.VPTER XXXI.
''What do you think of lier, mamma ?" said Adriana, with glistening eyes, as she ran into Mrs. Neuchatel's dressing-room for a moment before dinner.
" I think her manners arc perfect," replied Mrs. Neuchatel ; *' and as there can be no doubt, after all we have heard, of her princi])lc3, I think we are most fortunate. But what do you think of her, Adriana ? For, after all, that is the main ques- tion ? "
*' I think she is divine," said Adriana ; *'but I fear she has no heart."
*' And why ? Surely it is early to decide on such a matter as that ! "
''When I took her to her room," said Adriana, *'I suppose I was nervous ; but I burst into tears, and tlirew my arms round her neck and embraced her, but she did not respond. Sho
TABLE TALK.
137
pliatcl ;
I of her
lo you
qucs-
lliG has
natter
lipposo 1 round She
touclicd my forclicad Avith her Y\\^^, aud withdrew from my embrace. "
"She wished, perhaps, to teacli you to control your emo- tions," said Mrs. NeuchateL ''You liave known her only an hour, and you could not have done more to your own mother."
It had been arranged that there should be no visitors to- day ; only a nephew and a foreign consul-general, just to break the formality of the meeting. ^Ir. Neuchatel placed Mvra next to himself at tho round table, and treated her with marked consideration — cordial but courteous, and easy, with a certain degree of deference. His wife, who i)i4ued herself on her perception of character, threw her brown velvet eyes on her neighbor, Mr. Penruddock, and cross-examined him in mystical whispers. She soon iccognizcd his love of nature ; and this allowed her to dissert on the subject, at once sublime and inexhaustible, with copiousness worthy of the theme. AVhcn she found he Avas an entomologist, and that it was not so much mountains as insects which interested him, she shifted her ground, but treated it Avith equal felicity. Strange, but nature is never so powerful as in insect life. The Avhitc ant can destroy fleets Jind cities, and the locusts erase a province. And then, hoAV beneficent they arc ! Man Avould find it difil- cult to riA'al their exploits : the bee, that giA'CS us honey ; the Avorm, that giATs us silk ; the cochineal, that supplies our manufactures Avith their most brilliant dye.
Mr. Penruddock did not seem to knoAV much about manu- factures, but ahvays recommended his cottagers to keep bees.
"The lime-tree abounds in our village, and there is nothing the bees loA'e more than its blossoms."
This direct reference to his village led Mrs. Neuchatel to an inquiry as to the state of the poor about llurstlcy, and she made the inquiry in a tone of commiseration.
"Oh ! Ave do pretty well," said Mr. Penruddock.
"But how can a family live on ten or tAA'clA'o shillings a week ? " murmured Mrs. Neuchatel.
'* There it is," said Mr. Penruddock. " A family has more than that. With a family the income proportionately in- creases."
138
EXDYMIOX.
Mrs. Neucliatel sighed. "I must say," she said, *'I cau not help feeling there is something wrong in our present ar- rangements. When I sit down to dinner every day, Avith all these dishes, and remember tliat there are millions who never taste meat, I can not resist the convicticn that it would be better if there were some equal division, and all sliould have, if not much, at least something."
"Nonsense, Emily ! " said Mr. Neuchatel, who had an organ like Fine-ear, and could catrli, when necessary, his wife's most mystical revelations. " My wife, Mr. Penruddock, is a regular Communist. I hope you are not," he added, with a smile, turning to Myra.
'* I think life would be very insipid," replied Myra, '' if all our lots were the same."
When the ladies withdrew, Adriana and Myra walked out together hand-in-liand. Mr. Neuchatel rose and sat next to Mr. Penruddock, and began to talk politics. His reverend guest could not conceal his alarm about the position of the Church, and spoke of Lord John Russell's appropriation clause with well-bred horror.
"Well, a. do not think there is much to be afraid of," said Mr. Neuchatel. "This is a liberal age, and you can not go against it. The people must be educated, and where are the funds to come from ? We must all do something, and the Churcli must contribute its share. You know I am a Liberal, but I am not for any rash courses. I am not at all sorry that Sir Robert Peel gained so much at the last general election. I like parties to be balanced. I am quite content with affairs. My friends, the Liberals, are in office, and, being there, they can do very little. That is the state of things, is it not, Mel- chior?" he ""ded, with a smile to his nephew, who was an M. P. "A balanced state of parties, and the house of Ncuchatel Avitli three votes — that will do. We poor city-men get a little attention paid to us now, but before the dissolution three votes went for nothing. Now, shall avc go and ask my daughter to give us a song ? "
Mrs. Neuchatel accompanied her daughter on the piano, and after a time not merely on the instrument. The organ
[ cun it tir- :h all never Id be have,
organ 5 most cgular smile,
'Mf all
Bd out
text to
verend
of the
clause
.," said not go ire the id the liberal, I'y that ion. I affairs, they ;, Mel- 'as an Lchatel little votes liter to
Ipiano, organ
'„ -
MUTUAL SATISFACTIOX.
139
of both was fine and richly cultivated. It was choice cliani- bcr music. Mr. Neuchatel seated himself by Myra. Ilis tone was more than kind, and his manner gentle. "It is a little awkward the first day," he said, ''among strangers, but that will wear off. You must bring your mind to feel that this is your home, and we shall all of us do everything in our power to convince you of it. Mr. Penruddock mentioned to me your wish, under jiresent circumstances, to enter as little as possible into society, and this is a very social home. Your feeling is natural, and you will be in tliis matter entirely your own mis- tress. We shall always be glad to see you, but if you are not present we shall know and respect the cause. For my own part, I am one of those who would rather cherish affection than indulge grief, but every one must follow their mood. I hear you have a brother, to whom you are much attached ; a twin, too, and they tell me, strongly resembling you. He is in a public office, I believe ? Now, understand this ; your brother can come here whenever he likes without any further invita- tion. Ask him whenever you please. We shall always be glad to see him. No sort of notice is necessary. This is not a very
small house, and we can always cutlet for a friend."
manage to find
a bed and a
CHAPTER XXXII.
NoTiiiXG could be more successful than the connection formed between the Neuchatel family and Myra Ferrars. Both pa'-ties to the compact were alike satisfied. Myra had "got out oi that hole " Avhich she always hated, and though the new life she had entered was not exactly the one she had mused over, and which was founded on the tradition of her early ex- perience, it was a life of energy and excitement, of splendor and power, with a total absence of petty vexations and miser- ies, affording neither time nor cause for the wearing chagrin of a monotonous and mediocre existence. But the crowning joy of lier emancipation was the prospect it offered of frequent enjoyment of the society of her brother.
140
ENDYMIOK
"With regard to the Ncuchatels, they found in ^Myra every- thing they could desire. Mrs. Neucluitel was delighted with ii companion wlio was not the daughter of a hanker, and whoso schooled intellect not only comprehended all her doctrines, however ahstruso or fanciful, but who did not hesitate, if ne- cessary, to controvert or even confute them. As for Adriana, she literally idolized a friend Avhose proud spirit and clear intel- ligence were calculated to exercise a strong hut salutary influ- ence over lier timid and sensitive nature. As for the great hanker himself, Avho really had that faculty of reading charac- ter which his wife flattered herself she possessed, he had made up his mind about Myra from the first, both from her corre- spondence and her conversation. "She has more common sense than any woman I ever kncAV, and more," he would add, *'than most men. If she were not so handsome, people would find it out ; but they can not understand that so beautiful a woman can have a headpiece, that, I really believe, could man- age the affairs in Bishopsgate Street."
In the mean time life at Ilainault resumed its usual course ; streams of guests, of all parties, colors, and classes, and even nations. Sometimes Mr. Ncuchatcl would say, "I really must have a quiet day that ]\Iiss Ferrars may dine with us, and she shall ask her brother. How glad I shall be when she goes into half-mourning; I scarcely catch a glimpse of her." And all this time his wife and daughter did nothing but quote her, which Avas still more irritating, for, as he woulu say, half- grumbling and half-smiling, "If it had not been for me, she would not have been here."
At first Adriana would not dine at table Avithout Myra, and insisted on sharing her imprisonment. " It does not look like a cell," said Myra, surveying not without complacency her beautiful little chamber beautifully lit, with its silken hang- ings and carved ceiling and bright with books and pictures ; " besides, there is no reason why you should be a prisoner. You have not lost a father, and I hope never will."
"Amen !" said Adriana. "That Avould indeed be the un- happiest day of my life."
" You can not be in society too much in the latter part of the
"Sh
inc, she
\yi\, [ind )k like
|cy licr
liaiig-
jtui'cs ;
jisoncr.
|he un- , of the
A SOCIAL liECLUSE.
141
duy," siiid Myra. *' The mornings should be sacred to ourselve.s, but for the rest of tlie hours people are to see and to be seen, and," she added, ''to like and to be liked." Adriana shook her head ; "^ I do not wish any one to like me but you."
"I am sure I shall always like you, and love you," said Myra, "but I am equally sure that a great many other people will do the same."
'"It will not be myself that they like or love," said Adriana with a sigh.
*'Xow, spare me that vein, dear Adriana; you know I do not like it. It is not agreeable, and I do not think it is true. I believe that women are loved much more for themselves than is supposed. Besides, a woman should be content if she is loved ; that is the point ; and she is not to inquire how far the accidents of life have contributed to the result. Wliy should you not be loved for yourself ? You have an interest- ing appearance. I think you very pretty. You have choice accomplishments and agreeable conversation and the sweetest temper in the world. You want a little self-contcit, my dear. If I were you and admired I should never think of my fortune."
" If you were the grciitest heiress in the world, Myra, and were married, nobody would suppose for a moment that it was for your fortune."
"Go down to dinner and smile upon everybody, and tell me about your conquests to-morrow. And say to your dear papa, that as he is so kind as to wish to sec me, I will join them after dinner."
And so, for the first two months, she occasionally appeared in the evening, especially when there was no formal party. Endymion came and visited her every Sunday, but he was also a social recluse, and though he had been presented to Mrs. Xeu- cliatcl and her daughter, and had been most cordially received by them, it was some considerable time before he made the ac- quaintance of the great banker.
About September Myra may be said to have formally joined the circle at Hainault. Three months had elapsed since the terrible event, and she felt, irrespective of other considerations, her position hardly justified her, notwithstanding all the in-
U2
ENDYMION.
<lalgent kindness of the family, in continuing a coi'.rse of life which she was conscious to them was sometimes an inconvenience and always a disappointment. It was impossible to deny that she was interested and amused by the world which she now witnessed — so energetic, so restless, so various ; so full of ur- gent and pressing life ; never thinking of the past and quite heedless of the future, but worshiping an almighty present that sometimes seemed to roll on like the car of Juggernaut. She was much diverted by the gentlemen of the Stock Exchange, so acute, so audacious, and differing so much from the mer- chants in the style even of their dress, and in the ease, per- haps the too great facility, of their bearing. They called each other by their Christian names, and there were allusions to practical jokes which intimated a life something between a public school and a garrison. On more solemn days there were diplomatists pud men in political office ; sometimes great mu- sical artists, and occasionally a French actor. But the dinners were always the same ; dishes worthy of the great days of the Bourbons, and wines of rarity and price, which could not ruin Neuchatel, for in many instances the vineyards belonged to himself.
One morning at breakfast, when he rarely encountered them, but it was a holiday in the city, Mr. Neuchatel said, "There are a few gentlemen coming to dine here to-day whom you know, with one exception. He is a young man, a very nice young fellow. I have seen a good deal of him of late on busi- ness in the city, and have taken a fancy to him. lie is a for- eigner, but he was partly educated in this country and speaks English as well as any of us."
"Then I suppose he is not a Frenchman," said Mrs. Neu- chatel, "for they never speak English."
" I shall not say what he is. You must all find out ; I dare say Miss Ferrars will discover him ; but, remember, you must all of you pay him great attention, for he is not a com- mon person, I can assure you."
"You are mysterious, Adrian," said his wife, "and quite pique our curiosity."
" Well, I wish somebody would pique mine," said the bank-
1^
Neu-
)iit ; I ., you com-
quite Ibank-
COLONEL ALBERT ARRIVES.
143
cr. *^ These holidays in the city are terrible tilings. I think I will go after breakfast and look at the new house, and I dare eay Miss Ferrars will bo kind enough to be my companion."
Several of the visitors, fortunately for the banker whoso time hung rather heavily on his hands, arrived an hour ov so before dinner, that they might air themselves in the famous gardens and see some of the new plants. But the guest whom he most wished to greet, and whom the ladies WTro most curi- ous to welcome, did not arrive. They had all entered the house and the critical moment was at hand, when just as din- ner was about to be announced, the servants ushered in a young man of distinguished appearance, and the banker ex- claimed, *'You have arrived just in time to take Mrs. Neu- chatel in to dinner," and he presented to her — Colonel Al- bert.
CHAPTER XXXIIT.
The ladies were much interested by Colonel Albert. Mrs. Neuchatel exercised on him all the unrivaled arts by which she so unmistakably discovered character. She threw on him her brown velvet eyes with a subdued yet piercing beam, which would penetrate his most secret and even undeveloped intelli- gence. She asked questions in a hushed mystical voice, and as the colonel was rather silent and somewhat short in his replies, though ever expressed in a voice of sensibility and with refined deference of manner, Mrs. Neuchatel opened her own peculiar views on a variety of subjects of august interest, such as education, high art, the influence of woman in society, the formation of character, and the distribution of wealth, on all of which thi^ highly gifted lady was always in the habit of informing her audience by way of accompaniment, that she was conscious that the views she entertained were peculiar. The views of Mrs. Neuchatel were peculiar, and therefore not always, or even easily, comprehended. That indeed she felt was rather her fate in life, but a superior intelligence like hers has a degree of sublimated self-respect which defies destiny.
U4:
EXDYMIOy.
"When slio was alone with tlio ladk-s, tlio bulletin of Mrs. Nciicluitc'l was not so copious as liad been cx})cctetl. She announced tliyt Colonel Albert was sentimental, and she sus- pected a poet. But for the rest she had discovered nothing, not even his natiorjility. She had tried him both in French and German, but he persisted in talking English, although ho spoke of himself as a foreigner. After dinner he conversed chiefly with the men, particularly Avith the Governor of the Bank, who seemed to interest him much, and a director of one of the dock companies, who offered to show him over their establishment, an offer which Colonel Albert eagerly accepted. Then, as if he remembered that homage Avas due at such a moment to the fairer sex, he went and seated himself by Adri- ana, and was playful and agreeable, though when she was cross- examined afterward by her friends as to the character of his conversation, she really could not recall anyth'^^g particular except that he was fond of horses, and said tha should like very much to take a ride with her. Just befuic ne took his departure, Colonel Albert addressed Myra, and in a rather strange manner. He said, " I have been puzzling myself all dinner, but I can not help feeling that we have met before."
Myra shook her head and said, *' I think that is impos- sible."
''Well," said the Colonel with a look a little perplexed and not altogether satisfied, " I suppose then it was a dream. May dreams so delightful," and he bowed, ''never be wanting."
" So you think he is a poet, Emily," said Mr. Neuchatel when they had all gone. ""We have got a good many of his papers in Bishopsgatc Street, but I have not met with any verses in them yet."
The visit of Colonel Albert was soon repeated, and he be- came a rather frequent guest at Ilainault. It was evident that he was a favorite with Mr. Neuchatel. " He knows very few people," he would say, " and I wish him to make some friends. Poor young fellow ! he has had rather a hard life of it, and seen some service for such a youth. He is a perfect gentleman, and if he be a poet, Emily, that is all in your way. You like literary people, and are always begging that I should ask them.
r
:'i
: Mrs. Sho ,e sus- tliing, .^'rcnch igli ho lYcrscd of tho of one r their ccptcd. such a y Adri- .s cross- • of his rticuhir aid like ook his I rather ^-sclf all ore. impos-
c
cd and . May
1<T.
luchatel
of his
[til any
he he- Int that 3ry few [riends. lit, and Jleman,
)u like them.
''OXE OF OUIi GREAT WITSr
145
I
!
"Well, next Saturday you will have a sort of a lion — one of tho ])rincii)al writers in 'Scaramouch.' He i?< going to Paris as the foreign correspondent of tho 'Chuck-Farthing' with a thousand a year, and one of my friends in the Stock Exchange, who is his great ally, asked me to give him some letters. S . he came to Bishopsgato Street — they all come to Bishopsgato Street — and I asked him to dine here on Saturday. By tho by, Miss Ferrars, ask your brother to come on tho same day and stay with us till Monday. I will take him up to town with me quite in time for his office."
This was the first time that F]ndymion had remained at Ilainault. He looked forward to the visit with anticipations of great pleasure. Ilainault, and all tho people there, and everything about it delighted him, and most of all the happi- ness of his sister and tl.o consideration, and generosity, and delicate affection with which she was treated. One morning, to his astonishment, Myra had insisted upon his accepting from her no inconsiderable sum of money. *' It is no part of my salary," she said, when lio talked of her necessities. " Mr. Neuchatel said he gave it to mo for outfit and to buy gloves. But being in mourning I want to buy nothing, and you, dear darling, must have many wants. Besides, Mrs. Neuchatel lias made mo so many presents that I really do not think that I shall ever want to buy anything again."
It was rather a grand party at Ilainault, such as Endymion had little experience of. There was a cabinet minister and his wife, not only an ambassador, but an ambassadress who had been asked to meet them, a nephew Neuchatel, the M. P. with a pretty young wife, and several apparently single gentlemen of note and position. Endymion was nervous when he entered, and more so because Myra was not in the room. But his tre['i- dation was absorbed in his amazement when in the distance ho observed St. Barbe, with a very stiff white cravat, und his hair brushed into unnatural order, and his whole demeanor forming a singular contrast to the rollicking cynicism of Joe's and tho office.
Mr. Neuchatel jiresonted St. Barbe to tho lady of tho man- sion. "Here is one of our great wits," said tho banker, *'and V
146
ENDYMION.
he is going to Paris which is the capital of wits." The critical momoDt prevented prolonged conversation, but the ludj of the mansion did contrive to convey to St. Barbe her admiring familiarity with some of his effusions, and threw out a phrase which proved how finely she could distinguish between wit and humor.
Endymion at dinner sat between two M. P.s, M'hom his experience at the House of Commons allowed him to recognize. As he was a young man whom ncitlicr of them knew, neither of them addressed him, but with delicate breeding carried on an active conversation across him, as if "n fact ho vras not present. As Endymion had very little vanity, this did not at all annoy him. On the contrary, he was amused, for they spoke of matters with which he was not unacquainted, tiiough he looked as if he knew or heard nothing. Their con \'ersation was what is called " shop : " all about the House and office ; criticisms on speakers, speculations as to preferment, what government would do about [liis, and hoAv well government got out of that.
Endymion was amused by seeing Myrn, who was remote from him, sitting by St. Barbe, who, warmed by the banquet, was evidently holding forth without the slightest conception that his neighbor whom he addressed had long become familiar with his characteristics.
After dinner, St. Barbe pounced upon Endymion. ''Only think of our meeting here !" he said. •'! wonder why they asked you. You are not going to Paris, and you are not a wit. What a family this is," he said; "1 had no idea of wealth before ! Did j'ou observe the silver plates ? I couid not hold mine with one hand, it was so heavy. I do not sup- pose there are such plates in the world. It reives one an idea of the galleons and Anson's plunder. Bi;i they deserve their wealth," he added; '' nobody grudges it to them. I declare when I was eating that truffle, I felt a glow about my heart that, if it wTre not indigestion, I think must have been grati- tude ; though that is an article I had not believed in. lie is a wonderful man, that Neuchatel. If I had only known him a year ago ! I would have dedicated my novel to him. He is a
ST. BARBE'S OPIXJOyS.
l^i
;ritical of the miring phrase 211 wit
om his Dgnize. neither ried on 'as not [ not at 3r they tiiough n'sation . office ; 1, what rnment
1 remote anquet, ception 'amiliar
''Only ly they e not a dca of
conid ot sup- an idea -c their declare
heart
grati- [le is a
him a [le is a
sort of man wlio would liave given you a check immediately. He would not have read it to be sure, but wliat of that ? If you had dedicated it to a lord, the mo>t ho would have done would have been to have asked you to dinner, and then per- haps have cut up your work in one of tlio Quality reviews, and taken money for doing it out of our pockets I Oh ! it's too liorrid ! There are some top-sawyers licro to-day, Ferrars ! It would make Seymour Hicks' moutli water to bo here. We should have had it in the papers, and lie would Iuiac left us out of the list, and called us, etc. Now I dare say that am- bassador has been blundering all his life, and yet there is some- thing in that star and ribbon ; I do not know how you feel, but I could almost go down on my knees to liim. And there is a cabinet minister ; well, wc know what he is ; I have been sfpiibbing him for these two years, and now that I meet him I feel like a snob. Oh ! there is an immense deal of supersti- tion left in the world. I am glad they are going to the ladies. I am to be honored by some conversation witli the mistress of the house. She seems a first-rate woman, familiar Avitli the glorious pages of a certain classic Avork, and my humble effu- sions. She praised one she thought I wrote, but between ourselves it was written by t at fellow Seymour Ilicks, who imitates mo ; but I would not put her right, as dinner might h.ave been announced every moment. But she is a great wo- man, sir — wonderful eyes ! They are all great women here. I sat next to one of the daughters, or daughters-in-law, or nieces, I suppose. By Jove ! it was tierce and cpiart. If you iiad been there, you Avould have been run througli in a mo- ment. I had to show my art. Now tliey arc rising. I should not be surprised if Mr. Neuchatel were to present me to some of the grandees. I believe them to be all impostors, but still it is pleasant to talk to a man Avith a star.
'Ye stars wliich are the poetry of lieaveu,'
Byron wrote ; a silly line ; he should liave written,
'Ye stars which are the poctry of dress.' ''
148 EXDYMIOy.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
St. Barre was not disappointed in liis liopcs. It was an evening of glorious success for liim. lie had even the honor of sitting for a time by the side of Mrs. Neuchatel, and, being full of good claret, he, as he phrased it, showed his paces ; that is to say, delivered himself of some sarcastic paradoxes duly blended with fulsome flattery. Later in the evening, he con- trived to be presented both to the ambassador and the cabinet minister, and treated them as if they were demigods ; listened to them as if with an admiration which he vainly endeavored to repress ; never sjioke except to enforce and illustrate the views which they had condescended to intimate ; successfully conveyed to his excellency tliut he was conversing with an en- thusiast for his exalted profession ; and to the minister that ho had met an ardent sympathizer with his noble career. The ambassador was not dissatisiied Avitli the impression he had made on one of the foreign correspondents of the ''Chuck- Farthing," and the minister flattered himself that both the literary and the graphic representations of himself in "Scara- mouch" might possibly for tlie future be mitigated.
"I have done business to-night," said St. Barbe to Endym- ion toward the close of the evening. '' You did not know I had left the old shop ? I kept it close. I could stand it no longer. One has energies, sir, though not recognized — at least not recognized much," he added thoughtfully. *' But who knows what may happen ? The age of mediocrity is not eter- nal. You see this thing offered, and I saw an opening. It has come already. You saw the big wigs all talking to me ? I shall go to Paris now with some eclat. I shall invent a new profession ; the literary diplomatist. The bore is, I know no- thing about foreign politics. My line has been the other way. Never mind ; I will read the ' Debats ' and the ' Revue do Deux Mondes,' and laake out something. Foreign affairs are all the future, and my vicAvs may be as right as anybody else's ; probably more correct, not so conventional. What a fool I was, Ferrars ! I was asked to remain here to-night and refused )
11
A PLEA SAM' WALIC.
14i)
.dym-
InoAV I
it iia
least
wlio
eter-
t has
? I
new
no- way, e do
are Ise's ; was, Isccl r
Tlic truth \fi, I could not stand ilio.se powdered gentlemen, and I should have been under their care. They seem so haughty and supercilious. And yet I was wrong. I spoke to one of them very rudely just now, when he was handing coffee, to irhow I was not afraid, and he answered me like a seraph. I felt remorse."
"Well, I have made the acquaintance of Mr. St. Barl)e," f^aid Myra to Endymion. *'Stran,r/e as lie is, he seemed ([uito familiar to me, and he was so f i II of liim^-elf that he never found me out. I hope some day to know Mr. Trench a rd and Mr. "Waldcrshare. Those I look upon as your chief friends."
On the following afternoon, Adriana, Myra, and Endymion took a long walk together in the forest. The green glades in the autumnal woods were inviting, and some times they stood before the vast form of some doddered oak. The air was fresh and the sun was bright. Adriana was always gay and happy in the company of her adored Myra, and her happiness and her gayety Averc not diminished l)y the presence of Myra's brother. So it was a lively and pleasant Avalk.
At the end of a long glade they observed a horseman fol- lowed by a groom approaching them. Endymion Avas some little Avay behinel, gathering Avild lloAVcrs for Adriana. Canter- ing along, the cavalier soon reached them, and then he suddenly pulled up his horse. It Avas Colonel Albert. "^
"You are AA'alking, ladies ? Permit me to join you," and he Avas by their side. " I delight in forests and in green alleys," said Colonel Albert. "Tavo Avandering nymphs make the scene perfect."
"AVe are not alone," said Adriana, "but our guardian is picking some Avild flowers for us, Avhicli avo fancied. I think it is time to return. You are going to Ilainault, I believe, Colonel Albert, so we can all Avalk home together."
So they turned, and Endymion Avitli his graceful offering in a moment met them. Full of his successful quest, he offered Avith eager triumph the floAvers to Adriana, Avithout casting a glance at her ncAV companion.
" Beautiful !" exclaimed Adriana, and she stopped to ad-
150
ENDYMWX.
mire and arrange them. "Sec, dear Myra, is not this lovely ? How superior to anything in our glass-houses."
Myr.'i took the iicwer and examined it. Colonel Albert, who ^vas silent, was watching all this time Endymion with in- tentncss, who now looked up and encountered the gaze of the new comer. Their eyes met, their countenances were agitated, they seemed perplexed, and then it seemed that at the same time both extended their hands.
"It is a long time since we met," said Colonel Albert, and he retained the hand of Endymion with affection. But Endym- ion, Avho Avas apparently much moved, said nothing, or rather, only murmured an echo to the remarks of his new friend. And then they all walked on, but Myra fell a little back and made a signal to Endymion to join her.
" You never told me, darling, that you knew Colonel Al- bert."
"Colonel Albert I "said Endymion, looking amazed, and then he added, "Who is Colonel Albert ? "
"That gentleman before us," said Myra.
" That is the Count oi Otranto, whose fag I was at Eton."
" The Count of Otranto ! "
CHAPTER XXXV.
CoLOXEL Albert from this day became an object of in- creased and deeper interest to Myra. His appearance and manners had always been attractive, and the mystery connected with him was not calculated to diminish curiosity in his con- duct or fate. But wlicn she discovered that he was the unseen hero of her childhood, the being who had been kind to her Endymion in what she had ever considered the severest trial of her brother's life, had been his protector from those who would have oppressed him and had cherished him in the deso- late hour of his delicate and tender boyhood, her heart was disturbed. How often had they talked together of the Count of Otranto, and how often had they wondered who ho was I
A MYSTERIOUS PERSONAGE.
151
His memory had been a delightful mystery to them in their Berkshire solitude, and Myra recalled witli a secret smile tho numberless and ingenious inquiries by which she had endeav- ored to elicit from her brother some clew as to his friend, or to discover some detail which might guide her to a conclusion. Endymion had known nothing, and was clear always that the Count of Otranto must have been, and was, an English boy. And now the Count of Otranto called himself Colonel Albert, and though he persisted in speaking English, had admitted to Mrs. Neuchatel that he was a foreigner.
"Who was he ? She resolved, when she had an opportunity, to speak to the great banker on the subject.
'•'Do you know, Mr. Neuchatel," she said, "that Endym- ion, my brother, was at school with Colonel Albert ? "
"Ah, ah !" said Mr. Neuchatel.
'•'But when he was at school he had another name," said Myra.
" Oh, oh ! " said Mr. Xeucluitel.
'•'He was then called the Count of Otranto."
" That is a very pretty name,'' said ^Nlr. Neuchatel.
'•' But why did he cluinge it ? " asked Myra.
'•The great world often change their names," said Mr. Neuchatcl. "It is only poor city-men like myself who are always called Mr., and bear tlie same name as their fathers."
" But when a person is called a count when he is a boy, he is seldom called only a colonel when he is a man," said Myra. " There is a great mystery in all this."
"I should not be surprised," said Mr. Ncuchatel, "if he were to change his name again before this time next year."
"Why? "asked Myra.
"Well, when I have read all his papers in Bishopsgatc Street perhaps I shall be able to tell you," said Mr. Neuchatel, and Myra felt that she could pursue the theme no further.
She expected that Endymion would in time be able to ob- tain this information, but it was not so. In their first private conversation after their meeting in the forest, Endymion had informed Colonel Albert that, though they had met now for the first time since his return, they had been for some time
152
ENDYMI02T.
lodgers in London under the same roof. Colonel Albert smiled when Endymion told him this ; then fiillirg into thought, ho said : *'I hope we n ay often meet, but for the moment it may be as well that the past should be known only to ourselves. I wish my life for the present to be as private as I can arrange it. There is no reason why we should not be sometimes together — that is, when you have leisure. J liad the pleasure of making your acquaintance at my banker's. "
Parliament had been dissolved through the demise of the crown in the summer of this year (183'^ \ and London society had been prematurely broken up. '\\'aldcrshare had left town early in July to secure his election, in which he was successful, with no intention of settling again in his old haunts till the meeting of the new House of Commons, which was to be in ^November. The Rodneys were away at some Kentish watering- place during August and September, exhibiting to an admiring world their exquisitely made dresses, and enjoying themselves amazingly at balls and assemblies at the i")ublic rooms. The resources of private society also were not closed to them. Mr. and Mrs. Gamme were also there and gave immense dinners, and the airy Mrs. Ilooghley, who laughed a little at the CJammes' substantial gatherings and herself improvised charm- ing picnics. So there was really little embarrassment in the social relations between Colonel Albert and Endymion. They resolved themselves chiefly into arranging joint expeditions to Ilainault. Endymion had a perpetual invitation there, and it seemed that the transactions between Mr. Neuchatel and the colonel required much conference, for the banker always ex- pected him, although it was well known that they met not unfrequently in Bishopsgate Street in the course of the week. Colonel Albert and Endymion always staid at ILainault from Saturday till Monday. It delighted the colonel to mount En- dymion on one of his choice steeds, and his former fag enjoyed all this amazingly.
Colonel Albert became domiciled at Ilainault. The rooms which were occupied by him when there were always reserved for him. He had a general invitation, and might leave his luggage and books and papers behind him. It was evident that
^>
■li!
COLONEL ALBERTS CIIAMPIOX.
153
t>
the family pleased him. Between Mr. Xeucliatel and himself there were obviously affairs of great interest ; but it was equally clear that he liked the female members of the family — all of them ; ami all liked him. And yet it can not be said that he was entertaining, but there are some silent i)eoplc who are more interesting than the best talkers. And when he did sjicak he always said the right thing. His manners wer. tender and gentle ; he had an unobtrusive sympathy witli all ilicy said or did, except, indeed, and that was not rarely, when he was lost in profound abstraction.
''I delight in your friend tlie colonel, Adrian," said Mrs. Neuchatel, *'but I must say he is very absent."
*' He has a good deal to think about," said Mr. Neuchate'.
*'I wonder what it can be," thought Mjra.
** He has a claim to a great estate," said Mr. Neuchatel, *'and he has to think of the best mode of establishing it ; and he has been deprived of great honors, and he believes unjustly, and he wishes to regain them."
''Xo wonder, then, he is absent," said Mrs. Neuchatel. ** If he only knew what a burden great wealth was, I am sure he would not wish to posses*, it, and as for honors I never could make out Avhy having a iitl-i or a ribbon could make any differ- ence in a human bein:(."
*' Nonsense, my dear Emih'," said Mr. Neuchatel. " Great wealth is a great blessing to a man who knows what to do with it, and as for honors, they are inestimable to the honorable."
''Well, I ardently hope Colonel Albert may succeed," said Myra, ''because he was so kind to my brother at Eton. He must have a good heart."
"They say he is the most unscrupulous of living men," said Mr. Neuchatel, with his peculiar smile.
" Good heavens !" exclaimed Mr^ Neuchatel.
'•' How terrible ! " said Adriana. •' It can not be true."
" Perhaps he is the most determined," said Myra. " ]\Ioral courage is the rarest of qualities, and often maligned."
"Well, he has got a champion," said Mr. Neuchatel.
" I ardently wish him success," said Myra, " in all his un- dertakings. I only wish I knew what they were."
154
EXDYMION.
" Has not he told j'our brother, Miss Fjrrars ?" asked ^Ir. Neucliatel, with hiughing eyes.
"lie never speaks of himself to Endymion," said Myra.
*' He speaks a good deal of himself to me," said Mr. Neu- chatel ; ''and he is going to bring a friend here to-morrow who knows more about his aifairs even than I do. So you will have a very good opportunity, Miss Ferrars, of making yourself ac- (juainted with them, particularly if you sit next to him at din- ner, and arc very winning."
The friend of Colonel Albert was Baron Scrgius, the baron who used to visit him in London at twilight in a dark brougham. Mrs. Neuchatel was greatly Laken by his appearance, by the calmness of his mien, his unstudied politeness, and his mea- sured voice. He conversed with her entirely at dinner on Ger- man philosophy, of which he seemed a complete master, ex- plained to her the different schools, ana j^robably the success- ful ones, and imparted to h^r that precise knowledge Avhich she required on the subject, vhicli she had otherwise been un-
able to obtain. It seemeu, <.oO, that he personally knew all the famous professors, and he intimated their doctrines not only with profound criticism, but described their persons and habits with vividness and picturesque power, never, however, all this time, by any chance raising his voice, the tones of which w£ re ever distinct and a little precise.
" Is this the first visit of your friend to this country ? " asked Myra of Colonel Albert.
" Oh, no ; he has been here often — and everywhere," added Colonel Albert.
"Everywhere! he must bo a most interesting companion then."
" I find him so ; I never knew any one whom I thought equal to him. But perhaps I am not an impartial judge, for I have known him so long and so intimately. In fact, I have never been out of his sight till I was brought over to this country to be placed at Eton. He is the counselor of our family, and we all of us have ever agreed that if his advice had been always fol- lowed we should never have had a calamity."
*' Indeed a gifted person ! Is he a soldier ? "
i r
■f
A PACKET.
155
((
No ; Baron Scrgius has not followed the profession of
arms.
»
li
were
'' He looks a diplomatist."
"Well, he is now nothing but my friend," said the colonel. ' He might have been anything, but he is a peculiarly domes- tic character, and is devoted to private life."
"You are fortunate in such a friend."
"Well, I am glad to be fortunate in something," said Colonel Albert.
" And are you not fortunate in everything ? "
" I have not that reputation ; but I shall be more than for- tunate if I have your kind wishes."
" That you have," said Myra, rather eagerly. " My brother taught me, even as a child, to wish nothing but good for you. I wish I knew only what I was to wish for."
"Wish that my plans may succeed," said Colonel Albert, looking round to her with interest.
"I will more than wish," said Myra; "I will be.ieve that they will succeed, because I think you have resolved to succeed."
"I shall tell Endymion when I see him," said Colonel Albert, " that his sister is the only person who has read my character."
)anion
equal have never try to nd we ys f ol-
n
J:
CHAPTER XXXVI.
Colonel Albert aud Baron Sergius drove up in their landau from Ilainault while Endymion was at the door in Warwick Street, returning home. The colonel saluted him cordially and said, "The baron is going to take a cup of coffee with me; join us." So they went up-stairs. There was a packet on the table, which seemed to catch the colonel's eye immediately, and he at once opened it with eagerness. It contained many for- eign newspapers. Without waiting for the servant who was about to bring candles, the colonel lighted a taper on the table with a lucifer, and then withdrew into the adjoining chamber,
I
Fi
I
15G
EXDYMIOy.
opening, however, with folding doors to the principal and spa- cious apartment.
**A foreign newspaper always interests our friend," eaid the baron, taking his colfeo.
"Well, it must always be interesting to have news from home, I suppose," said Endymion.
**IIome!" said the baron. "News is always interesting, whether it come from home or not."
"To public men," said End3'mion, sipping his coffee.
" To all men if they be wise," said the baron ; '* as a general rule, the most successful man in life is the man who has the best information. "
"But what a rare thing is success in life," said Endymion. "I often wonder whetuer I shall ever be able to step out of the crowd."
"You may have success in life without stepping out of the crowd," said the baron.
"A sort of success," said Endymion; "I know what you mean. But what I mean is real success in life. I mean, I should like to be a public man."
" Why ? " asked the baron.
" "Well, I should like to have power," said Endymion blushing.
"The most powerful men are not jmblic men," said the baron. "A public man is responsible, and a responsible man is a slave. It is private life that governs the world. You will find this out some day. The world talks much of power- ful sovereigns and great ministers ; and if being talked about made one powerful, they would be irresistible. But the fact is, the more you are talked about the less powerful you are."
"But surely King Luitbrand is a powerful monarch ; they say he is the wisest of men. And the Emperor Harold, who has succeeded in everything. And as for ministers, who is a great man if it be not Prince Wenceslaus ? "
" King Luitbrand is governed by his doctor, who is capable of governing Europe, but has no ambition that way ; the Em- peror Harold is directed by his mistress, who is a woman of a certain age with a vast sagacity, but who also believes in sor-
r
k
ifi
EXDYMIOX'S FIRST SPEECIT.
157
eery ; and as for Prince Wcnccslaus, he is inspired by an individ- ual as obscure as ourselves, and who, for aught I know, may bo, at tliis moment, like ourselves, drinking a cup of coffee in a hired lodging."
" What you say about public life amazes me,'' said Endym- ion musingly.
" Think over it," said the l)aron. *' As an Englishman, you will have difficulty in avoiding public life. But at any rate, do not at present be discontented that you are unknown. It is the firFt condition of real power. When you have succeeded in life according to your views, and I am inclined to believe you will so succeed, you will, some day, sigh for real power, and de- nounce the time when you became a public man, and l)elonged to any one but yourself. But our friend calls me. He has found something startling. I will venture to say, if there bo anything in it, it has been brought about by some individual of whom you never heard."
IS a
)able Em- of a
sor-
CHAPTER XXXVII.
With the assembling of Parliament in November recom- menced the sittings of the Union Society, of which Endymion had for some time been a member, and of whose meetings he was a constant and critical, though silent, attendant. There was a debate one night on the government of dependencies, which, althoK-h all reference to existing political circumstances was rigidly prohil)ited, no doubt had its origin in the critical state of one of our most important colonies, then much em- barrassing the metropolis. The subject was one which Endym- ion had considered, and on which he had arrived at certain conclusions. The meeting was fully attended, and the debate had been conducted with a gravity becoming the theme. En- dymion was sitting on a back bench, and with no companion near him with whom he was acquainted, when he rose and so- licited the attention of the president. Another and a well- known speaker had also risen, and been called, but there was i
15S
LWDYMION.
cry of "new memLcr," ii courteous cry, borrowed from the House of Commons, iiud Endymion for the first time heard his own voice in public, lie h.'.s since admitted, thougli lie has been through many tryii g sccnei^, that it was the most ner- vous moment of his life. 'After Calai:^," as a wise wit said, "nothing sur])riscs ;'' and the first time a man speaks in pub- lic, even if only at a debating society, is also the uncqualed incident in its way. The indulgence of the audience sui)portcd him while the mist cleared from his vision, and his palpitating heart subsided into compurative tranquillity. After a few par- donable incohcrencies, he was launched into his subject, and spoke with the thoughtful fluency which knowledge alone can sustain. For knowledge is the foundation of eloquence.
" What a good-looking young fellow ! " Avhispered Mr. Bertie Trcmainc to his brother Mr. Trcmaine Bertie. The Bertie Tremaines were the two greatest swells of the Union, and had a party of their own. *• And he speaks well."
''Who is he ?" inquired Mr. Trcmainc Bertie of their other neighbor.
"He is a clerk in the Treasury, I believe, or something of that sort," was the rei)ly.
"I never saw such n good-looking young fellow," said Mr. Bertie Tremaine. " Ixc is worth getting hold of. I shall ask to be introduced to him when we break up."
Accordingly, Mr. Bertie Tremaine, who was always playing at politics, and who, being two and twenty, was discontented he was not Chancellor of the Exchequer like Mr. Pitt, whis- pered ^o a gentleman who sat behind him, and was, in short, the whip of his section, and signified, as a minister of state would, that an introduction to Mr. Ferrars should be ar- ranged.
So when the meeting broke up, of which Mr. Ferrars' maiden speech was quite the event, and while he was contem- plating, not without some fair self-complacency, walking home with Trenchard, Endymion found himself encompassed by a group of bowing forms and smiling countenances, and almost before he was aware of it, had made the acquaintance of the great Mr. Bertie Tremaine, and received, not only the con-
«*•'■
Mli. BERTIE TREMAIXE.
15a
aymg entcd whis- short, state ■)e ar-
rrars' iitem- home
by a Imost f the
con-
fjratulations of tluit gentleman, but an invitation to dine with him on tlic morrow ; **<iui^e sans/a^on/*
Mr. Beit:'> Tremaine, wlio luul early succeeded to tlio family estate, lived in CJrosvenor Street, and in becoming style. His house was furnislied with luxury and some taste. The host received his guests in a library, well stored with political his- tory and political science, and adorned with the busts of cele- brated statesmen and of profound political sages. Bentliam was the philosopher then affected by young gentlemen of am- bition, and who wished to have credit for profundity and liartl heads. Mr. Bertie Tremaine had been the proi)rietor of a close borough, which for several gencr.'.tiuns had returned his family to Parliament, the faithful sui)porters of Pitt and Perceval, and Liverpool, and he had contemplated following the same line, though with larger and higher objects than his ancestors. Being a man of considerable and versatile ability, and of ample fortune, with the hereditary opportunity which he jiossesscd, he had a right to aspire, and, as his vanity more than equaled his talents, his estimate of his own career was not mean. Un- fortunately, before he left IlarroAV, he was deprived of his bor- ough, and this catastrophe eventually occasioned a considerable change in the views and conduct of Mr. Bertie Tremaine. In the confusion of parties and political thought which followed the Reform Act of Lord Grey, an attempt to govern the coun- try by the assertion of abstract principles, and which it was now beginning to be the fashion to call Liberalism, seemed the only opening to public life, and Mr. Bertie Tremaine, who piqued himself on recognizing the spirit of the age, adopted Liberal opinions with that youthful fervor which is sometimes called enthusiasm, but which is a heat of imagination subse- quently discovered to be inconsistent with the exi)erienco of actual life. At Cambridge Mr. Bertie Tremaine was at first the solitary pupil of Bentham, whose principles he was pre- pared to carry to their extreme consequences, but being a man of energy and in possession of a good estate, he soon found fol- lowers, for the sympathies of youth are quick, and, even with an original bias, it is essentially mimetic. When Mr. Bertie Tremaine left the university, he found in the miscellaneous
IGO
ENDYMIOX.
elements of the London Union many of liis former companions of school and college, and from them, and the new world to which he was introdnced, it delighted him to form parties and construct imaginary cabinets, llis brother Augustus, who was his junior only by a year, and was destined to be a diplomatist, was an eP^clent assistant in these enterprises, and was one of the guests who greeted Endymion when he arrived next day in Grosvenor Street according to his engagement. The other three were Ilortensius, the whip of the party, and Mr. Trcn- chard.
The dinner was refined, for ]\[r. Bci'tie Trcmaino coml)inod the Sybarite with the Utilitarian sage, and it secretly delighted him to astonish or embarrass an austere brother republican by the splendor of his family plate or the polished appointments of his household. To-day the individual to be influenced Avas Endymion, and the host, acting up to his ideal of a first min- ister, addressed questions to his companions on the subjects which were peculiarly their own, and after eliciting their remarks, continued or completed the treatment of the theme with adequate ability, though in a manner authoritative, and, -as Endymion thought, a little pompous. "What amused him most in this assemblage of youth was their earnest affectation of public life. The freedom of their comments on others Avas •only equaled by their confidence in themselves. Endymion, who •only spoke when he was appealed to, had casually remarked in answer to one of the observations which his host with elabo- rate politeness occasionally addressed to him, that he thought it was unpatriotic to take a certain course. Mr. Bertie Tre- maine immediately drew up, and said, "v»ith a deep smile, *' That he comprehended philanthropy, but patriotism he con- fessed he did not understand." And thereupon delivered him- self of an address on the subject which might have been made in the Union, and which communicated to the astonished En- dymion that patriotism was a false idea, and entirely repugnant to the principles of the new philosophy. As all present were more or less impregnated with these tenets, there was no con- troversy on ihe matter. Endymion remained discreetly silent, and Augustus — Mr. Bertie Tremtiine's brother — who sat next
1
ignunt ^t were lo con- I silent. It next
1
,i
1
, ' -.'4
THE PARTY OF TTTE FVTURE,
161
to liim, and avIiosc manners were as sympatliizing as liis broth- er's were autocratic, whispered in a wheedling tone that it was quite true, and that the idea of patriotism Avas entirely relin- quished except by a few old-fashioned folks who clung to su- perstitious phrases. Ilortensius, who seemed to bo tlie only one of the company who presumed to meet Mr. Bertie Tre- maine in conversation on equal terms, and who had already astonished Endymion by what that inexperienced youth deemc 1 the extreme laxity of his views, both social and }»olitiGal, evinced, more than once, a disposition to deviate into the liglit- er topics of feminine character, and even the fortunes of tlie hazard-table ; but the host looked severe, and was evidently re- solved that the conversation to-day should resemble the expres- sion of his countenance. After dinner they returned to the library, and most of them smoked, but Mr. Bertie Tremfiine, inviting Endymion to seat himself by his side on a sofa at the farther end of the room, observed, "I suppose you are looking to Parliament ? "
"Well, I do not know," said the somewhat startled En- dymion ; "I have not thought much about it, and I have not yet reached a parliamentary age."
"A man can not enter Parliament too soon," said Mr. Ber- tie Tremaine ; " I hope to enter this session. There will be a certain vacancy on a petition, and I have arranged to have the seat."
"Indeed !" said Endymion. "My father was in Parlia- ment, and so was my grandfather, but I confess I do not very Avell see my way thc^re."
"You must connect yourself with a party," said Mr. Bertie Tremaine, "and you w il soon enter; and being young, you should connect yottrself with the party of the future. The country is wearied with the prci^ent men, who have no philo- sophical foimdation, and are therefore perpetually puzzled and inconsistent, and the country will not stand the old men, as it is resolved against retrogression. 'JMie l)arty of the future and of the sjjccdy future has its headquarters under this roof, and I shoidd like to see you belong to it."
"You are too kind," niuriuured Endymion.
162
ENDYMIOK
\
I tfi
s 5
1 » !
'' Yes, I see in you the qualities adai)ted tu public life, and which may be turned to great account. I must get you into Parliament as soon as you are eligible," continued Mr. Bertie Tremaine in a musing tone. *' This death of the King was very inojiportune. If he had reigned a couple of years more, I saw my way to half a dozen seats, and I could have aiTanged with Lord Durham."
*'That was unfortunate," said Endymion.
"What do you think of Hortensius ?" inquired Mr. Bertie Tremaine.
*' I think him the most brilliant speaker I know," said En- dymion. *' I never met him in private society before ; he talks well."
'Tie wants conduct," said Mr. Bertie Tremaine. *'He ought to be my Lord Chancellor, but there is a tone of levity about him which is unfortunate. Men destined to the highest places should beware of badinage."
"I believe it is a dangerous weapon."
'' All lawyers are loose in their youth, but an insular coun- try subject to fogs, and with a powerful middle class, requires grave statesmen. I attribute a great deal of the nonsense called Conservative Reaction to Peel's solemnity. The proper min- ister for England at this moment would be Pitt. Extreme youth gives hope to a country ; coupled with ceremonious man- ners, hope soon assumes the form of confidence."
''Ah !" murmured Endymion.
" I had half a mind to ask Jawett to dinner to-day. His powers are unquestionable, but he is not a practical man. For instance, I think myself our colonial empire is a mistake, and that we should disembarrass ourselves of its burden as rapidly as is consistent with the dignity of the nation ; but were Jawett in the House of Commons to-morrow, nothing would satisfy him but a resolution for the total and immediate abolition of the empire, Avitli a preamble denouncing the folly of our fa- thers in creating it. Jawett never spares any one's self-love. "
"I know him very well," said Endymion; "ho is in my ofHce. He is very uncomi'i-omi.^iiig."
"Yes," said Mr. Bertie Tremaine musingly, "if I had to
REMIXISCENCES.
loa
form a government, I could hardly offer him the cabineL" Then speaking more rapidly, he added, ''The man you should attach yourself to is my brother Augustus — Mr. Tremaine Bertie. There is no man who understands foreign politics like Augustus, and he is a thorough man of the world."
uires
called
min-
;reme
1 man-
His
For ■, and ipidly awett atisfy ion of ur fa- ve." [U my
lad to
!i
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
When Parliament reassembled in February, the Neuchatcls quittff] Ilainault for their London residence in Portland Place. Mrs. Neuchatel was sadly troubled at leaving her country home, which, notwithstanding its distressing splendor, had still some forms of compensatory innocence in its flowers and sylvan glades. Adriana sighed when she called to mind the manifold and mortifying snares and pitfalls that awaited her, and had even framed a highly practical and sensible scheme which would permit her parents to settle in town and allow Myra and herself to remain permanently in the country ; but Myra l)rushcd away the project like a fly, and Adriana yielding, em- braced her with tearful eyes.
The Neuchatel mansion in Portland Place was one of the noblest in t! nt comely quarter of tiie town, and replete with every charm and convenience that wealth and taste could pro- vide. ^fjTa, who, like her brother, had a tenacious memory, was interested in recalling as fully and as accurately as possible her previous experience of London life. She was then indeed only a child, but a child who was often admitted to brilliant circles, and had enjoyed oriportunities of social observation Avhich the very vmv'ifiil seldom ]ios>ess. Her retrospection was not as proli . •\~ ■^h- could have desired, and she Avas astonished, after a se - analysis of the past, to find how en- tirely ur that early age she appeared to have been engrossed with herself and with Endymion. Hill Street and Wimbledon, and all their various life, figured as shadowy scenes ; she could "ealize nothing very definite for her present guidance ; the pas-t seemed a phantom of fine dresses, and bright e(|uipages,
1G4
EXDYMION.
T
IH. ;
'
and endlci=!s indulgence. All that had happened after their fall was distinct and full of meaning. It would seem that adver- sity had taught Myra to feel and think.
Forty years ago the great financiers had not that command- ing, not to say predominant, position in society which they possess at present, but the Neuchatels were an exception to this general condition. They Averc a family which not only liad the art of accumulating wealth, but of expending it with taste and generosity — an extremely rare combination. Their great riches, their political influence, tiieir high integrity and their social accomplishments, combined to render their house not only splendid, but interesting and agreeable, and gave them a great hold upon the world. At first the fine ladies of their political party called on them as a homage of condescend- ing gratitude for the public support which the Neuchatel family gave to their sons and husbands, but they soon discov- ered that this amiable descent from their Olympian heights on tJieir part did not amount exactly to the sacrifice or service •which they had contemplated. They found their hosts as re- fined r.s thcmR'lves, and much more magnificent, and in a very short time it xras not merely the wives of ambassadors and min- isters of -itate that were found at the garc^en fetes of Ilainault, or the bails, and banquets, and concert 5 of Portland Place, but the fitful and caprcious realm of fashion surrendered like a fair country conquered as it wTre by surprise. To visit the Neuchatels became the mode ; all solicited to be their guests, and some solicited in vain.
Although it was only Febraary, the world began to move, and some of the ministers' wives who were socially strong • ■nough to venture on such a wstep, received their friends. ]\Ir. Xeuchatel particularly liked this form of society. '' I can not manage balls," he used to say, "but I like a ministerial recep- tion. There is some chance of sensible conversation and doing a little business. I like talking with ambassadors after dinner. Besides, in this country you meet the leaders of the opposition, because, as they are not invited by the minister, but by his wife, anybody can come without committing himself."
Myra, faithful to her original resolution, not to enter society
MYBA'S CURIOSITY
165
eir faU advcr-
imand- li tlicy tion to ot only it with
Their ity and r house id gave adies of lescend- ;iichatcl discoY- ights on ' service bs as re-
a very lid min- ainaiilt, I Place, red like
isit the
guests,
move,
strong
Mr.
;'aii not
rccep-
doing
[inner.
)sition,
bv his
ocicty
I
■Nvhile she was in monrning, declined all the solicitations of her friends to accompany them to tliese assemblies. Mrs. Neucha- tel always wished Myra should be her substitute, and it was only at Myra's instance that Adriana accompanied her parents.. In the mean time, Myra saw much of Endymion. lie was always a welcome guest by the family, and could call upon his sister at all the odds and ends of time that were at his com- mand, and chat with her at pleasant ease in her pretty room. Sometimes tliey walked out together, and sometimes they went together to see some exhibition that everybody went to see. Adriana became almost as intimate Avith Endymion as his sister, and altogether the Neuchatel family became by degrees to him as a kind of home. Talking with Endymion, Myra heard a good deal of Colonel Albert, for he was her brother's liero — but she rarely saw that gentleman. She was aware from her brother, and from some occasional words of Mr. Neuchatel, that the great banker still saw Colonel Albert and not unfrc- quently, but the change of residence from Ilainault to London made a difference in their mode of communication. Business was transacted in Bisliopsgate Street, and no longer combined with a pleasant ride to an Essex forest. More tlian once Colo- nel Albert had dined in Portland Place, but at irregular and miscellaneous parties. Myra observed that he was never asked to meet the grand personages who attended tlic celebrated ban- quets of Mr. Neuchatcl. And why not ? His manners were distinguished, and his whole bearing that of one accustomed to consideration. Tlie irrepressible curiosity of woman ini- pcllod her once to feel her way on the subject with Mr. Neu- chatel, but with the utmost dexterity and delicacy.
"Xo,"said Mr. Neuchatel witli a laughing eye, and who saw through everybody's purpose, though his own manner Avas one of simplicity amounting almost to innocence, ''I did not say Colonel Albert was going to d'ne here on Wednesday; I have asked him to dine here on Sunday. On Wednesday I am going to have the premier and some of his colleagues. I must insist upon Miss Ferrars dining at table. You will meet Lord Eoehampton ; all the ladies admire him and lie admires all tne ladies. It will not do to ask Colonel Albert to meet such a
160
ENDYMIOK
party, tliongh pcrliaps," added Mr. Ncuchatcl with a merry smile, ** some day tliey may be asked to meet Colonel Albert. Who knows, Miss Ferrars ? The -wheel of fortune turns round very strangely."
"And who then is Colonel Albert ?" asked Myra with de- cision.
" Colonel Albert is Colonel Albert, and nobody else so far as I know," replied Mr. Neuchatel ; **he has brought a let- ter of credit on my house in that name, and I am happy to honor his drafts to the amount in question, and as he is a foreigner, I think it is but kind and courteous occasionally to ask him to dinner."
Miss Ferrars did not j^ursue the inquiry, for she was suf- ficiently acquainted with Mr. Neuchatel to feel that he did not intend to gratify her curiosity.
The banquet of the Neuchatels to the i)rcmicr, and some of the principal ambassadors and their wives, and to those of the premier's colleagues who were fashionable enough to be asked, and to some of the dukes and duchesses and other ethereal beings who supported the ministry, was the first event of the season. The table blazed with rare flowers and rarer porcelain and precious candelabra of sculptured beauty glittering with light ; the gold plate was less remarkable than the delicate ware that had been alike molded and adorned for a Du Barri or a Marie Antoinette, and which now found a permanent and peaceful home in the proverbial land of purity and order ; and amid the stars and ribbons, not the least remarkable feature of the whole was Mr. Neuchatel himself, seated at the center of his table, alike free from ostentation or over-deference, talking to the great ladies on each side of him as if he had nothing to do in life but whisper in gentle cars, and partaking of his own dainties as if he were eating bread and cheese at a country inn.
Perhaps Mrs. Neuchatel might have afforded a companion picture. Partly in deference to their host, and partly because this evening the first dance of the season was to be given, the great ladies in general wore their diamonds, and Myra was amused as she watched their dazzling tiaras and flashing ri- vieres, while not a single ornament adorned the graceful pres-
LADY MONTFORT.
167
-^'
;
ence of tlieir liostess, who was more content to be brilliant only by her conversation. As Mr. Neuchatel had only a few days before presented his wife with another diamond necklace, he might be excused were he slightly annoyed. Nothing of the sort ; he only shrugged his shoulders, and said to his nephew, '" Your aunt must feel that I give her diamonds from love and not from vanity, as she never lets me have the plea- sure of seeing them." The sole ornament of Adriana Avas an orchid, which had arrived that morning from Ilainault, and she had presented its fellow to Myra.
There was one lady who much attracted the attention of Myra, interested in all f^he observed. This lady was evidently a person of importance, for she sat betAveen an ambassador and a knight of the garter, and they vied in homage to her. They Avatched her e\'cry word, and seemed delighted with all she said. Without being strictly beautiful, there was an expression of sweet animation in her physiognomy which Avas highly attrac- tive : her eye Avas full of summer lightning, and there Avas an arch dimple in her smile, which seemed to irradiate her Avholc countenance. She Avas quite a young Avoman, hardly older than Myra. What most distinguished her was the harmony of her Avhole person ; her graceful figure, her fair and finely molded shoulders, her pretty teeth and her small extremities, seemed to blend Avitli and become the soft vivacity of her win- ning glance.
**Lady Montfort looks well to-night," said the neighbor of Myra.
*^ And is that Lady Montfort ? Do you know, I neAxr saAv her before. "
" Yes ; that is the famous Bercngaria, the Queen of Society and the genius of Whiggism."
In the CA'ening, t.. great lady, who was held to have the finest voice in society, favored them Avith a splendid specimen of her commanding skill, and then Adriana was induced to grat- ify her friends with a song, ''only one song," and that only on condition that Myra should accompany her. Miss Neuchatel had a sweet and tender voice and it had been finely cultivated ; she Avould have been more than charming if she had only taken
168
endymion:
interest in anything slie herself did, or believed for a moment that she could interest others. When she ceased, a gentleman approached the instrument and addressed her in terms of sym- pathy and deferential praise. Myra recognized the knight of the garter who had sat next to Lady Montfort. lie was some- what advanced in middle life, tall and of a stately presence, with a voice more musical even than the tones which had re- cently enchanted every one. His countenance was impressive, a truly Olyr^pian brow, but the lower part of the face indicated not feebleness, but flexibility, and his mouth was somcAvhat sensuous. Ilis manner was at once winning, natural, and sin- gularly unaffected, and seemed to sympathize entirely with those whom IiC addressed.
'' But I have never been at Ilainault, " said the gentleman, continuing a conversation, '•' and therefore could not hear the nightingales. I am content you have brought one of them to town."
''Nightingales disappear in June," said Miss Ferrars ; ''so our season will be short. "
"And where do they travel to ?" asked the gentleman.
"Ah! that is a mystery," said Myra. "You must ask Miss Neuchatel."
" But Fhe will not tell me," said the gentleman, for in truth Miss Neuchatel, though he had frequently addressed her, had scarcely opened her lips.
"Tell your secret, Adrlana," said Miss Ferrars, trying to force her to converse.
" Adriana ! " said the gentleman. " What a beautiful name ! You look with that flower. Miss Neuchatel, like a bride of Venice."
"Nay," said Myra; "the bride of Venice was a stormy ocean."
"And have you a Venetian name ?" asked the gentleman.
There was a pause, and then Miss Neuchatel, with an effort, murmured, " She has a very pretty name. Her name is Myra.""
"She seems to deserve it," said the gentleman.
" So you like my daughter's singing," said Mr. Neuchatel,, coming uji to them. "She does not much like singing in
V
LORD ROEITAMPTOy.
160
l)iiblic, but slic is ii very good girl, Jiiul always gives me a song when I come liome from business."
" Fortunate man," said the gentleman. '• I wish somebody- would sing to me when I come home from business."
"You should marry, my lord," said Mr. Xeuchatel, "and get your wife to sing to you. Is it not so. Miss Ferrars ? By the by, I ought to introduce you to — Lord Rochampton."
so
prmy
}man.
ffort, Lyra.
Iiatel,. lig in
I
Jl
CHAPTER XXXIX.
The Earl of Roehampton was the strongc^it member of tho government, except, of course, the premier himself. lie Avas the man from whose combined force and flexibility of charac- ter the country had confidence that in all their councils there would be no lack of courage, yet tempered with adroit discre- tion. Lord Roehampton, though an Englishman, was an Irish peer, and was resolved to remain so, for he fully appreciated the position, which united social distinction with the poAver of a seat in tho House of Commons, lie was a very ambitious, and, as it was thought, worldly man, deemed even by many to be unscrup)ulous, and yet he was romantic. A great favorite in society, and especially with the softer sex, somewhat late in. life, he had married suddenly a beautiful woman, who was without fortune, and not a member of the enchanted circle in which he flourished. The union had been successful, for Lord Roehampton was gifted with a sweet temper, and, though peo- ple said he had no heart, with a winning tenderness of disposi- tion or at least of manner which at the same time charmed and soothed. He had been a widower for two years, and the world was of opinion that he ought to marry again, and form this time a becoming alliance. In addition to his many recom- mendations he had now the inestimable reputation, which no one had ever contemplated for him, of having been a good hus- band.
Bercngaria, Countess of Montfort, was a great friend of Lord Roehampton. She was accustomed to describe herself 8
170
ENDY.yiON'.
m
I \
as ** the last of his conquests," and thoiigli Lord Roclianiiton read characters and purposes with a glance, and was too Siiga- cious to be deceived by any one, even by himself, his gratilied taste, for he scarcely had vanity, cherished the bright illu.^ion of wliicli he was conscious, and he responded to Lady ^lontfort half-sportively, half-seriously, with an air of llattcred devotion. Lord Roehampton had inherited an ample estate, and he had generally been in office ; for he served his apprenticeship under Perceval and Liverpool, and changed his party just in time to become a member of the Cabinet of 1831. Yet with all these advantages, whether it were the habit of his life, which was ever profuse, or that i oglect of his jn-ivate interests wlilch almost inevitably accon. panics the absorbing duties of public life, his affairs were always somewhat confused, and Lady ^lont- fort, who wished to plar him on a pinnacle, had resolved that he should marry an hein . After long observation and careful inquiry and prolonged reflection, the lady she had fixed upon was Miss Neuchatel ; and she it was who had made Lord Roe- hampton cross the room and address Adriana after her song.
''He is not young," reasoned Lady Montfort to liorself, *'but his mind and manner arc young, and that is everything. I am sure I meet youth every day who, compared with Lord Roehampton, could have no chance with my sex — men who can neither feel, nor think, nor converse. And then he is famous, and powerful, and fashionable, and knows how to talk to women. And this must all tell with a banker's daughter, dying, of course, to be a grandc damr. It will do. lie may not be young, but he is irresistible. And the father will like it, for he told me in confidence, at dinner, that he wished Lord Roehampton to be prime minister ; and with this alliance he will be."
The i)lot being devised by a fertile brain never wanting in expedients, its development was skillfully managed, and its ac- complishment anticipated with confidence. It was remarkable with what dexterity the Neuchatel family and Lord Roehamp- ton were brought together. Bcrengaria's lord and master was in the country, which he said he would not quit ; but this did not prevent her giving delightfid little dinners and liolding
«' '
PLOTTTXG.
171
select ii.sscmblics on niglit.s when there avus no dreadful House of Commons, and Lord Uoeliampton could be present. On most occasions, and esi)ocially on these latter ones. Lady Mont- fort (■' nld not endure fxistence M'it!iout her dear Adriaua. Mr. Neuchatel, who was a little iu the plot, who at least smiled when Bcrengaria alluded tu her enterprise, was not wanting in his contributions to its success. lie hardly ever gave one of his famons banquets to which Lord Roehampton was not in- vited, and, strange to say. Lord Roehampton, who had tlie reputation of being somewhat difHcult on this h( id, always accepted the invitations. The crowning social incident, how- ever, was when Lord Roehampton opened his own house for the first time since his widowhood, and received the Nenchatels at a banquet not inferior to their own. Tliis was a great tri- nm}>h for Lady ^lontfort, who thouc^lit the end was at hand.
"Life is short," she said to Lord Roeliampton that evening. " Why not settle it to-night ?"
"Well," said Lord Roeluim2)ton, ''you know I never like anything precipitate. Besides, why should tlie citadel sur- render when I have hardly entered on my first parallel ? "
"Ah ! those are old-fashioned tactics" said Lady ^lontfort,
"Well, I suppose I am an old-fashioned man."
" Be serious, now. I want it settled before Easter. I must go down to my lord then, and even before ; and I should like to see this settled before we separate."
"Why does not Montfort come np to town?" said Lord Roehampton. " He is wanted."
"Well," said Lady Montfort, with half a sigh, "it is no use talking about it. He will not come Our society bores him, and he must be amused. I write to him every day, and sometimes twice a day, and pass my life in collecting things to interest him. I would never leave him for a moment, only I know then that ho would get wearied of me ; and he thinks now — at least, he once said so — that he has never had a dull moment in my company."
"How can he find amusement in the country ?" said Lord Roehampton. "There is no sport now. and a man can not always be reading French novels." •
172
EXD VMIOX
i
fi
',■*:
I
" Well, I send amii,-»iiig people cl(3wii to him," said Bercn- ^jiiria. ** It is diilicult to arrange, for he tlocs not like toadies, which is ^o iinrca.^onahle, tor I know many toadies who arc very pleasant. Treeby is with him now, and that is excellent, for Treehv contradicts him, and is scientific as Avcll as fashion- able, and gives I'.im the last news of the sun as avcII as of While's. I want to get this great African traveler to go down to him ; hut one can hardly send a jierfoct stranger as a guest. I want- ed Trcehy to take him, but Treeby refused — men arc so selfish. Treeby could have left him iliere, and the traveler might have remained a week, told all he had seen, and as much more us
th
he liked. ^ly lord can not .-tand Treeby more man two uays, and Treeby can not stand Uiy lord for a longer period, and that is why they arc such friends. "
" A sound basis of agreement,'' said Lord Koohampton. " I believe absence is often a great element of charm."
''But, a nos moutons," resumed Lady Montfort. "You sec noAV why I am so anxious for a conclusion of our affair. I think it is ripe I"
" Why do you ?'' said Lord Iiochanipton.
"Well, she must be very much in love with you."
" Has she told you so ? ''
"Xo ; but she looks in love."
"She never has told me so," said Lord Kochampton.
"Have you told her?"
" Well, I have not," said her companion. " I like the fam- ily— all of them. I like Xeuchatel particularly. I like his house and style of living. You always meet nice people there, and hear the last thing that has been said or done all over the world. It is a house where you arc sure not to be dull."
" You have described a perfect homo," said Lady Montfort, "and it awaits yon."
"Well, I do not know%" said Lord Eoeliampton. "Per- haps I am fastidious, perhaps I am content ; to be noticed sometimes by a Lady Montfort should, I think, satisfy any
man.
J5
" Well, that is gallant, but it is not business, my dear lord. You can count on my devotion even when you arc married;
•#
r .
WA L DKIiSlfA li K ' .V U E ITUX.
1T;{
but I want to j^ce vou on ti i)innaek', so tluit if r.iivlliinLr lur,)- jKJns tlierc sluill be no fiuestion who is to bo the lir^^t man in this country.''
CHAPTER XL.
(C
itfort,
lord, •ricd ;
The mooting of Parliamont oaii-od also the rotnrn of Wal- dor.-luirc to England, and Ijroughl life and enjoyment to our friends in "Warwick Street, WaMorshare had not taken his };eat in the autumn session. After the general eleetion, lie had gone abroad with Lord Beaumaris, the young nobleman wlio had taken them to the Derbv. and they liad seen ami done many strange things. During all ihoir i)eregrinations, how- ever, AValdershare maintained a constant correspondence with Imogene, occusionally seiuling her a choice volume, Avhich kIic was not only to read, but to prove her perusal of it by forward- ing to him a criticism of its content-.
Endymion Avas too much i)leased to moot Waldorshare again, and told him of the kind of intimacy ho had formed with Colo- nel Albert and all about the baron. Waldershare was much interested in these details, and it was arranged tliat an oi»por- tunity should be taken to make the colonel and "Waklersharc acquainted.
This, however, Avas not an easy result to bring aliout, for "Waldershare insisted on its not occurring formally, and as the colonel maintained the utmost reserA'c Avith the household, and Endymion had no room of reception, Aveeks i)assod over Avithout Waldershare knoAving more of Colo'iel Albert person- ally than sometimes occasionally seeing him mou^U his horse.
In the mean time life in "WarAvick Street, so far as uie IJod- ncy family Avere concerned, appeared to have reassumed its pleasant, and what perhaps we are authorized in styling its normal condition. They went to the play tAvo or three times a AATok, and there "Waldershare or Lord Beaumaris, freipiontly both, ahvays joined them ; a^id then they came home to sup- per, and then they smoked; and sometimes there AA'as a little .singing, and sometimes a little Avhist. Occasionally there AA'as
U(
Hi
U '1 i
! .
|
1) < 1 |
1 ■ .'' < 1 |
|
1 -1 |
|
|
1 |
1 4 |
|
1 |
^H |
174:
EXDYMIOX.
only conversation, tlm'^ is to say, AValderslmrc held forth, diliit- .ng on some wondrous tlicme, full of historical anecdote and daz/Jing i)aradox, and hai)py phrase. All listened with inter- est, even those who did not understand him. Much of his talk was addressed really to Beaumaris, Avhose mind he was forminu', as well as that of Imoo-one. Beaumaris was an liered- itary Whig, but had not personally committed himself, and the ambition of Waldcrshare was to transform him not only into a Tory, but one of the old rock, a real Jacobite. '*' Is not tlie Tory part}*," "Waldcrshare would exclaim, ^' a succession of heroic spirits, 'beautiful and swift,' ever in the van, and fore- most of their age ? — Ilobbes and Bolingbroke, Hume and Adam Smith, Wyndliani and Cobham, Pitt and Grenville, Canning and lluskisson ? — Arc not the principles of Toryism those popular rights which men like Shippin and Tlynde Cot- ton Hung in the face of \x\\ alien monarch and his mushroom aristocracy ? — Place bills, triennial bills, opposition to standing- armies, to peerage bills ? — Are not the traditions of the Tory party the noblest ixdigree in the world ? Are not its illustra- tions tliat gloi'ious martyrology, that opens with the name of Falkland and clones with the name of Canning ? "
'*I believe it is all true," Avhispered Lord Beaumaris to Sylvia, who had really never heard of any of these gentlemen before, but looked most sweet and sympathetic.
'' lie is a wonderful man — Mr. Waldcrshare," said Mr. Vioo to Rodney, ''but I fear not practical."
One day, not very long after his return from his travels, Waldcrshare went to breakfast with his uncle, Mr. Sidney AVil- ton, now a cabinet minister, still unmarried, and living in (Jrosvenor Square. Xotwithstanding the difference of their ])olitics, an atl'ectionatc intimacy subsisted between ti>em ; in- deed, Waldcrshare was a favorite of his uncle, who enjoyed the fresliness of his mind, and quite appreciated his brilliancy of thought and s})cecli, his (juaini reading and cfTcrvescent imagi- nation.
*'And so you think we are in for life, George," said Mr. Wilton, taking a piece of toast. " I do not."
"Well, I go upon this," said Waldersluirj. "It is quite
;
WALDKRSirARE A XT) JUS CXCLK.
175
i
clear tliat Peel has nothing to otTer tlio country, and tlie coun- try will not rally round a negation. When lie failed in '34 they said there had not been sufficient time for the reaction to work. Well now, since then, it has had nearly three years, during which you fellows have done everything to outrage every prejudice of the constituency, and yet they have given you a majority."
"Yes, that is all very well," replied ]Mr. Wilton, ''but we art.' the Liberal shop, and we have no Liberal goods on hand ; we are the party of movement and must perforce stand still. The fact is, all the great questions are settled. No one will Inirn his fingers with the L-isli Church again, in this generation certainly not, })robably in no other ; you could not get ten men together in any part of the country to consider the corn laws ; I must confess I regret it. I still retain my oi)inion that a moderate fixed duty would be a Avise arrangement, but I (piitc despair in my time of any such advance of opinion ; as for the ballot, it is hardly tolerated in debating societies. The present government, my dear CJeorge, will expire from inanition. I always told the cabinet they were going on too fast. They should have kept back municipal reform. It Avould have car- ried us on for five years. It Avas our only ^;/6re cle resis- tance.'''
^' I look upon the House of Commons as a mere vestry," said "Waldershare. ""' I believe it to be comi)letely used up. IJeforni has dished it. There are no men, and naturally, be- cause the constituencies elect themselves, and the constituencies are the most mediocre of the nation. The IIou.-c of Commons now is like a spendthrift living on his capital. The business is done and the speeches arc made by men formed in the old school. The influence of the House of Commons is mainly kept up by old social traditions. I believe if the eldest sons of peers now members would all accept the Chiltern hundreds, and the house thus cease to be fashionable, before a year was l)ast, it would be as odious and as contemptible as the Iiump Parliament."
*' Well, you are now the eldest son of a peer," said Sidney Wilton, smiling. '* Why do you not set an example, instead of
■ f
ITG
EXDYJJIOX.
spending your father's siib-tancc and your own in fighting ti corrupt horough ? "
'" I am vox clamant Is,'^ said AValdersharc. '' I do not de- ppnir of its being done. But wliat I want is some hig guns to do it. Let the eldest son of a Tory duke and the eldest son of a Whig duke do the thing on the same day, and give the reason Avhy. If Saxmundham, for example, and Ilarlaxton would do it, the game would be up."
" On the contrary," said Mr. Wilton, '' Saxmundham, I can toll you, Avill be the new cabinet minister."
"Degenerate land!" exclaimed Waldcrsharc. ''Ah! in the eighteenth century there was always a cause to sustain the political genius of the country — the cause of the rightful dy- nasty ! "
''Well, thank God, we have got rid of all those troubles," said Mr. Wilton.
" Eid of them ! I do not know that. I saw a great deal of the Duke of Modena this year, and tried as well as I could to open his mind to the situation."
'' You traitor !" exclaimed ]\[r. Wilton. ''If I vrerc Sec- retary of State, I would order the butler to arrest you imme- diately, and send you to the Tower in a hack cab ; but as I am only a President of a Board and your uncle, you will escape."
" Well, I should think all sensible men," said Waldershare, *'of all parties will agree, that before we try a republic, it ■would be better to give a chance to the rightful heir."
"Well, I am not a republican," said Mr. Wilton, "and I think Queen Victoria, particularly if she make a wise and Iiappy marriage, need not much fear the Duke of Modena."
" He is our sovereign lord, all the same," said Waldershare. *' I wish he were more aware of it himself. Instead of looking to a restoration to his throne, 1 found him always harping on the fear of French invasion. I could not make him under- stand that Franco vras his natural ally, and that without her help, Charlie was not likely to have his own again."
"Well, as you admire pretenders, George, I wish you v.ere in my shoes this morning, for I have got one of the most disa- greeable interviews on hand which ever fell to my lot."
-; .
.'J
•>?
A'.'cro
(li.-'ii-
J/A'. W/LTOX'S ir.l /!•/>.
ITT
»
'' How FO, my dctir uncle ? "' .-aid Waldersliaro, in a tunc of Fvnipatliv, for lie paw that the countenance of ^[r. "Wilton was disturbed.
'Oly unhappy ward," said Mr. "Wilton; '•3-ou know, of course, something about him."'
'' "Well, I was at school and college/' said "Waldersharo, ''when it all happened. But T luivc just heard that you had relations with him.''
'^The most intimate; and there is the bitterness. There existed between his mother Queen Agrippina and myself tics of entire friendship. In her last years and in her greatest ad- versity she appealed to mc to be the guardian of her son. lie inherited all licr beauty and api)arcntly all her sweetness of disposition. I took the greatest pains Avith him. lie was at Eton, and did Avell there. lie was very popular ; I never vras so deceived in a boy in my life. I thought him the most do- cile of human beings, and that I had gained over him an entiro inlluencc. I am sure it Avould have been exercised for his bene- fit. In short, I may say it noAV, I looked ujiOii him as a son, and he certainly would have been my heir ; and yet all this time, from his seventeenth year, he was immersed in political intrigue, and carrying on plots against the sovereign of his country, even under my own roof."
'•IIow very interesting !" said "Waldershare.
"It may be interesting to you ; I knovr what it eo-t mo. The greatest anxiety and sorrow, and even nearly compromised my honor. Had I not a large-hearted chief and a true man of the world to deal with, I must have retired from Jie govern- ment."
''How could he manage it ?" said "Waldershare.
"You have no conception of the devices and resources of the secret societies of Europe," said Mr. "Wilton. "His draw- ing master, his fencing master, his dancing master, all his i)ro- fessors of languages, who delighted me by their testimony to his accomplishments and their praises of his quickness and as- siduity, Avere active confederates in bringing about events which might have occasioned a European Avar. He left me avowedly to pay a visit in the country, tmd I even received letters from
^Js.
ITS
EXDYMIOX.
him Avitli the po.'itmiirk of tlic neighboring town ; letters all pveixired beforeluind. My first authentic inforniation as to his movements was to learn, that he had headed an invading force, landed on the shores which he claimed as his own, -was defeated and a prisoner.''
"I remember it/' said Waldershare. "I had just then gone up to St. John's, and I remember reading it with the greatest excitement."
"All this was bad enough," said Mr. Wilton, '^'but this is not my sorrow. I saved him from dei' 'h, or at least a dreadful imprisonment. lie was permitted to lil to America on his parole that he would never return to "Europe, and I was re- {piired, and on his solemn appeal I consented, to give my per- sonal engagement that the compact should be sacred. Before two years had elapsed, supported all tb.is time, too, by my bounty, there was an attempt, almost successful, to assassinate the king, and my ward was discovered and seized in the cajDital. This time he was immured, and for life, in th'^ strongest for- tress of the country ; but secret societies laugh i ^ )vernments, and though he endured a considerable imprisonment, the world has recently been astounded by hearing that he had escaped. Yes ; he is in London and has been here, though in studied obscurity, for some little time. He has never appealed to mo until within these few days, and noAV only on the ground that there are some family affairs which can not be arranged without my approval. I had great doubts whether I should receive him. I feel I ought not to have done so. But I hesitated, and I know not what may be the truth about women, but of this I am quite sure, the man who hesitates is lost."
"How I should like to be present at the interview, my dear uncle," said Waldersharc.
"And I should not be sorry to have a witness," said Mr. Wilton, " but it is impossible. I am ashamed to say how un- hinged I feel ; no person, and no memories, orgh.t to exercise such an influence over one. To tell you the trvdl\, I oucour- aged your pleasant gossip at breakfast by way of diplraclion at this moment, and now — "
if
my
i'
PRINCE FLO REST AX
170
At this inument, the groom of tlic cluimbors entered ami imnounced '' Ilis royal higliness, Prince Flore.^tan."
Mr. Wilt^i., who wari too agitated to sjieak, waved his hand to Waldcrshare to retire, and his nephew vanished. As Wal- dcrsliare 5vas descending the staircase, he drew hack on a land- ing-place to permit tlie f)rince to advance nndisturhcd. The prince apparently did not observe him, bnt when Waldcrshare caught the countenance of tlie visitor, he started.
CHAPTER XLI.
''I Kxow, sir, you are prejudiced against mo," said Prince Floresttm, bowing before Mr. Wilton with a so t of haughty humility, ''and, therefore, I the more ap^. .ate your con- descension in receiving me."
"I have no Avisli to refer to the past," said Mr. Wilton, somewhat sternly, '' You mentioned in your letter that my cooperation Avas necessary with reference to your i)rivate atTairs, of which I once was a trustee, and under those circumstances I felt it my duty to accede to your recpiest. I Avish our com- muni"cation to be limited to that business."
*'It shall be so strictly," said the prince; ''you may re- member, sir, that at the unhappy period when Ave were deprived < '. our throne, the name of Queen Agrippina Avas inscribed on the great book of the state for a considerable sum, for Avhicli the credit of the state Avas i)l^'lccd to her. It Avas strictly her priv«^te property, and had mainly accrued through the sale of the estates of her ancestors. This sum was confiscated, and several other amounts, which belonged to members of our house and to our friends, it Avas an act of pure rapine, so gross, that as time revolved, and the sense of Justice gradually returned to the hearts of men, restitution was made in every instance ex- cept my OAvn, though I have reason to believe that individual case Avas the strong '". My bankers, the house of Neuchatel, who have much interest^'d themselves in this matter, and have considerable intluence Aviih the government that succeeded us.
18;)
LWUVMWX.
ri
have brought tliingv: to tliis p;i.^s, that avc have reason toheliovo our claim would be conceded, ii' some of the foreign govern- iiient>', and especially tlie government of this country, would signify that the f-ettlement would not be disagreeable to them." And the prince ceasetl, an.d raising his eyes, which were down- cast as lie spoke, looked Mr. AVilton straight in the face.
'•Before such a proposal could even be considered by Her Majesty'o Oiovcrnment," said Mr. Wilton with a reddening cheek, ''the intimation must bo made to them by authority. If the minister of your country has such an intim;ition to make to ours, he sliould address himself to the pro})cr quarter, to Lord Ivoehampton."
"■ I imder.-tand/' said Prince Florestan ; '•' but governments, like indivJiUials, sometimes shrink from formality. Tlie gov- ernment of my country will act on the intimation, but they do not care to make it an aliair of dispatches."
''There is only one way of transacting business," said ^Mr. "Wilton, frigidly, and as if, ku far as he vras concerned, the in- terview was ended.
''I have been advised on high authority," said Prince Florestan, speaking very sloAvly, *' that if any member of the present cabinet will mention in conversation to the representa- tive of my country here, that the act of justice would iiot be disagreeable to the British Government, the affair is finished."
" I doubt Avhether any one of my colleagues would be i)rc- pared to undertake a personal interference of that kind with a foreign government/" said ^h\ Wilton, stiffly. 'Tor my own part, I have had quite enough of such interpositions never to venture on them again."
"The expression of feeling desired would involve no sort of engagement," said the imperturbable prince.
"That depends on the conscience of the individual who in- terferes. Xo man of honor would be justified in so interposing if he believed he was thus furnishing arms against the very government of which l\o ; elicited the favor."
" But why should he believe this i' " nskcd the prince Avith great calmness.
"I think, upon refit tion." said Mr. Wilton, taking up at
1 i
1?
rilE CHILD OF DKSTIXY
ISl
I
110 sort
hio in- [posing le very
le with
I Uj) !lt
f
the same time an ojiciictl letter -which wa< 1)efore liim, jh if lie wished to resume the private hiLsiuess on which lie had hecii pre- viously engaged, '•'that your royal liighness miglit liiid very adequate reasons for the helief.''
"I vrould put this before you with great deference, sir," gaid the prince. "Take my own ca>c ; i.s it not more lilvcly that I should lead that life of refined retirement, wliich T really desire, Averc I in possession of the means to maintain such a position witli hecoming dignity, than if I were distressed, and harassed, and di^gU3ted, every day, with sights and incidents which alike outrage my taste and self-respect ? It is not y)ros- perity, according to coriimon belief, that makes conspirators."
"You iccrc in a position, and a refined position,"' rejoined Mr. Wilton sharply; "von had means adequate to all that a gentleman could desire, and miglit have been a person of great consideration, and you wantonly destroyed all this."
"It might be remembered that I Avas young."
"Yes, you were young, very young, and your folly was condoned. You might have began life again, for to the world at least you Avcre a man of honor. You had not deceived the \\ Di'ld, whatever you might have done to others."
"If I presume to make another remark," said the prince, calmly, but pale, " it is only, believe rao, sir, from the profound rcs})cct I feel for you. Po not misunderstand these feelings, sir. They are not unbecoming the past. Xow that my mother has departed, there is no one to whom I am attached except yourself. I have no feeling whatever toAvard any other human being. All my thought and all my sentiment are engrossed by my country. But pardon me, dear sir, for so let me call you, if I venture to say that, in your decision on my conduct, you have never taken into consideration the position which I in- herited."
"I do not follow you, sir."
"You never will remember, liiat I am tlie child of destiny," said Prince Florcstan. " That destiny Avill again place me on tlie throne of my fathers. That is as certain as I am now speaking to you. But destiny for its fuinilment ordains action. Its decrees arc inexorable, but they are obscure, and the being
182
END Y MI OX.
TvliosG ctirccr it directs is as a man traveling in a dark niglit ; he readies his goal even -without the aid of stars or moon." *' I really do not understand what destijij means," ,^aid Mr. ■'I understand what conduct means, and I recoirnize
Wilton.
that it should be regulated by truth and honor. I think a man hiid better have nothing to do with destiny, i)articularly if it is to make him forfeit his parole."
" Ah ! sir, I well knoAV that on that head you entertain a great iircjudice in my respect. Believe me, it is not Just. Even lawyers acknowledge that a contract which is impossible can not be violated. ]\[y return from America was inevitable. Tho aspirations of a great people and of many communities required my presence in Europe. i\ly return was the natural develo[^- mcnt of the irresistible principle of historical necessity."
" Well, that principle is not recognized by Tier Majesty's Ministers," said Mr. Wilton, and both himself and the prince seemed to rise at the same time.
"I thank you, sir, for this interview," said his royal high- ness. ''You will not help mc, but what T require will happen by some other means. It U necessary, and therefore it will occur."
The prince remounted his horse, and rode off quickly till he reached the Strand, where obstacles to rapid progress com- menced, and though impatient, it was some time before ho reached Bishopsgate Street. He entered the spacious court- )'ard of ii noble mansion, and giving his horse to the groom, inquired for Mr. Neuchatel, to whom he was at once ushered — seated in a fine apartment at a table covered with many papers.
"Well, my prince," said Mr. Neuchatcl, with a smiling DVP, 'MVliat hviligH t^iioli a great man into the City to-day? Itttve J'Oii seen yo\\\ q\v\\[ fl'iullllV" And tlien Prince Flo- I'l'Hlaii giivp Mr Nli||li||Hi^( \\ sUcblUct but sufficier.fc summary of his recent interview.
"Ah !" said Mr. Neuchatel, "so it is, so it is ; I dare say if you were received at St. James', Mr. Sidney Wilton would not be so very particular ; but we must take things us we find them. If our fine friends will not help us, you must try us
iling
ay ?
Flo-
y of
i
V"
J
A irOXDROlTS TALE.
18:J
poor business men in the City. We can manage things lieiv sometimes which puzzle tliem at the We.it End. I saw you were disturbed when you came in. Put on a good countenance. Nobody shoukl ever look anxious except tliose who have no anxiety. I dare say you would like to know how your account is. I will send i'or it. It is not so bad as you think. I i)ut a tliou>!and ])ounds to it in tlie hopes that your flue frienu would help us, but I shall not take it olT again. M3 J^ouls Is going to-night to Paris, and lio .shall call upon the ministers and see what can he done. In the mean time, good a])petite, sir. I am going to luncheon, and there is a place for you. And I will show you my Gainsborough that 1 have just bought, from a family for whom it was painted. The face is divine, very like our Miss Ferrars. I am going to send the picture down to llainault. I won't tell you what I gave for it, because per- haps you would tell my wife and she would be very angry. She would want the money for an infant school. But I think she has schools enough. Now to lunch."
On the afternoon of this day there was half-holiday at the oilice, and Eudymion had engaged i;o accompany AValdershare on some expedition. They had been talking together in his room where Waldershare was finishing his careless toilet, which however was never finished, and they hr.d just opened the house-door and were sallying forth when Colonel Albert rode up. He gave a kind nod to Endymion but did not speak, and the companions went on. *' By the by, Ferrars," said Wal- dershare, pressing his arm and bubbling with, excitement, ''I have found out who your colonel is. It is a wondrous talc and I will tell it all to you as we go on."
us
CHAPTER XLII.
ExDYMiox had now passed three years of his life in Lon- don, and considering the hard circumstances under which ho had commenced this career, he might on the whole look back to tliose years without dissatisfaction. Three years ago he was
181
j:xdymion.
't, !
poor 1111(1 fi-ieiullcss!, utterly ignonuit of the world, and wilii iiotliing to guide liim but his own good sense. J lis slender salary had not yet hecn increased, hut with the generosity and jiid. of his sister and tlio libcralit \ of ]\ri'. Vigo, he was easy in liis circumstances. Through the Kodneys, he had become ac- ^juainted with a certain sort of miscellaneous life, a knov.dedgc of which is highly valuable to a youth, but wliich is seldom at- tained without risk. Endymion, on the contrary, was always guarded from danger. Through his most unexpected connec- tion Avith the Xeuchatel family, he had seen something of life in circles of rerinement and high consideration, and had even caught glimp.-es of that great world of wliich he read so mucli and heard peoido talk more, the world of the Lord Roehamp- tons and the Lady ^Montforts, and all those da/.zling people whose sayings and doings form the taste, and supply the con- versation, and leaver the existence of jidmiring or wondering millions.
None of these incidents, however, had induced any change in the scheme of his existence. Endymion was still content with his cleanly and airy garret ; still dined at Joe's ; was still sedulous at his office, aud always popular with his fellow- clerks. Seymour Hicks, indeed, who studied the 'OForning Post " with intentness, had discovered the name of Endymion in the elaborate lists of attendants on ]\rrs. Xeuchatel's rcccj)- tions, and had duly notified the important event to his col- leagues ; but Endymion was not severely bantered on the occa- sion, for, since the withdrawal of St. Barbe from the bureau, the stock of envy at Somerset House was sensibly diminished.
His lodgings at the Rodneys, however, had brought Endym- ion something more valuable than an innocuous familiarity Avith their various and suggestive life. In the friendship of AValdershare, he found a rich compensation for being withdrawn from his school and deprived of his University. The care of his father had made Endymion a good classical scholar, and he had realized a degree of culture which it delighted the brilliant and eccentric Waldershare to enrich and to complete. Walder- share guided his opinions, and directed his studies, and formed his taste. Alone at night in his garret, there was no solitude,
j
IX FL UENTIA L A CQ FA IX1\ 1 XCES.
1S5
mid wiiii .s .slciulcr :)sity and IS easy in 'como ac- nov.'lcdu'O .'Idom al- ls always I conncc- 12^ of lil'o had even so much voeliamp- ig people the con- ondcring
y change I content I was still fellow- ^forning ndymiou s rcco})- hi.s col- lie occa- burcan, nishcd. Eiidym- niliavity Isliip of ihdrawn care of and he jrilliant Waldcr- formcd olitude,
'! .
for ho liad ;il\vays some booh or sonio })criodical, English or foix'ign, Avith whicli Waldersliaro Jiad supplied him, and which he assured Endyniion it was absolutely necessary that he should read and master.
Xor was his acquaintance with Baron Sergius less valuable, or less fruitful of results. He too bee;; »ne interested in En- dyniion, and poured forth to him, api>arently without reserve, all the treasures of his vast experience of men and things, especially Avith reference to the < )iiil ict of external all'airs. lie initiated him in the cardinal principles of the policies of ditlercnt nations ; he revealed to him the real character of the chief actors in the scene. *' The lirst requisite," Baron Sergius would say, ''' in the successful conduct of public affairs is a personal actpiaintance with the statesmen engaged. It is pos- sible that events may not depend now, so much as they did a century ago, on individual feeling, but, even if prompted by general principles, their ai)plication and management arc al- ways colored by the idiosyncrasy of the chief actors. The great advantage which your Lord ]ioeliam})ton, for exain])le, has over all his colleagues in hi haute politique, is that he was one of your plenipotentiaries at the Congress of A'ienna. There he leai'ued to gauge the men who govern the v.-orld. Do you think a man like that, called upon to deal with a Met- ternich or a I'o/zo, has no advantage over an individual avIio never leaves his chair in Downing Street except to kill grouse ? Pah ! Mctternich and Pozzo knoAV very well that Lonl IJoe- hampton knoAvs them, and they set about affairs Avith him in a totally dilTerent spirit from that Avith Avliich they circumvent some statesman Avho has issued from the barricades of Paris."
Xor must it be forgotten that his debating society and the ac((uaintancc AA'hich he had formed there, AA'cre highly bene- ficial to Endymion. Under the roof of Mr. Bertie Tremaino he enjoyed the opportunity of forming an acquaintance Avith a large body of young men of breeding, of high education, and full of ambition, that was a substitute for the society, becom- ing his youth and station, AA'hich he had lost by not going io the UniA'ersity.
With all these individuals, and Avith all their circles, En-
IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3)
V.
^
/.
f/.
1.0
I.I
1.25
If IM IIIM
■^ 1^ III 2.2
i.8
U 1 1.6
^
/a
V
^
^
Photographic
Sciences Corporation
23 WEST MAIN STREET
WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580
(716) 872-4503
<V
:\
\
^<b
V
^
MP
W
^
186
ENDWMION.
dymion was a favorite. No doubt liis good looks, his mien — which was both cheerful and pensive, his graceful and quiet manners, all told in his favor, and gave him a good start, but further acquaintance always sustained the first impression. He was intelligent and well-informed, without any alarming originality, or too positive convictions, lie listened not only with patience but Avith interest to all, and ever avoided con- troversy. Here arc some of the elements of a man's popu- larity.
What was his intellectual reach, and what his real character, it was difficult at this time to decide. lie was still very young, only on the verge of his twentieth year ; and his character had no doubt been iniluenced, it might be suppressed, by the crush- ing misfortunes of his family. The influence of his sister was supreme over him. She had never reconciled herself to their fall. She had existed only on the solitary idea of regaining their position, and she had never omitted an occasion to im- press upon him that he had a great mission, and that, aided by her devotion, he Avould fulfill it. What his own conviction on this subject was may bo obscure. Perhaps he was organically of that cheerful and easy nature, wiiich is content to enjoy the present, and not brood over the past. The future may throw light upon all these points ; at present it may be admitted that the three years of seemingly bitter and mortifying adversity have not been altogether wanting in beneficial elements in the formation of his character and the fashioning of his future life.
CHAPTER XLHI.
Lady Montfort heard with great satisfaction from Mr. Neuchatel that Lord Roehampton was going to pay a visit to Hainault at Easter, and that he had asked himself. She play- fully congratulated Mrs. Neuchatel on the subject, and spoke as if the affair was almost concluded. That lady, however, received the intimation with a serious, not to say distressed, countenance. She said she should be grieved to lose Adriana
LADY MONTFORT AT WORK.
isr
\%
under any circumstances ; but if licr marriage in time was a necessity, slie trusted she miglit be united to some one who would not object to becoming a permanent inmate of their house. Wluit she herself desired for her daughter was a union with some clergyman, and if possible, the rector of their own parish. But it was too charming a dream to realize. The rectory at Ilainault was almost in the Park, and was the pret- tiest house in the world, with the most lovely garden. She herself much preferred it to the great mansion — and so on.
Lady Montfort stared at her with impatient astonishment, and then said, '' Your daughter, Mrs. Xeacliatel, ought to make an alliance which would place her at the head of so- ciety."
" "What a fearful destiny," saia Mrs. Neuchatel, " for any one, but overwhelming for one who must feel the whole time that she occujiics a position not accjuired by her personal qual- ities."
''Adriana is pretty," said Lady Montfort. *' I think her more than pretty ; she is highly accomplished, and in every way pleasing. Wliat can you mean, then, my dear madam, by supposing she would occupy a position not acquired by her per- sonal qualities ? "
Mrs. Neuchatel sighed and shook her head, and then said, *' We need not have a controversy on this subject. I have no reason to believe there is any foundation for my fears. We all like and admire Lord Roeliampton. It is impossible not to admire and like him. So great a man, and yet so gentle and so kind, so unaffected — I would say so unsophisticated ; but he has never given the slightest intimation either to me or her father that he seriously admired Adriana, and I am sure if ho had said anything to her she would have told us."
"lie is always here," said Lady Montfort, "and he is a man who used to go nowhere except for form. Besides, I know that he admires her, that he is in love with her, and I have not a doubt that he has invited himself to Ilainault in order to declare his feelings to her."
" How very dreadful ! " exclaimed Mrs. Neuchatel. " What are we to do ? "
II
188
END YMIOy.
" To do," said Lady Monlfort ; " why, Fympathizc with his happiness, and complete it. You will have a son-in-law of whom you may well be proud, and Adriana a husband Avho, thoroughly knowing the world, and women, and himself, Avill be devoted to her; will b: a guide and friend, a guide that will never lecture, and a friend who will always charm, for there is no companion in the Avorld like him, and I think I iDught to know," added Lady Montfort, *' for I always tell him I was the last of his conquests, and I shall ever be grateful to him for his having spared to me so much of his society."
"Adriana on this matter will decide for herself," said ]\hv. Xeuchatcl, in a pcrious tone, and with a certain degree of dig- nity. " Neither Mr. Neuchatel nor myself have ever attempted to control her feelings in this respect."
*' Well, I am now about to sec Adriana," said Lady Mont- fort ; '' I know she is at home. If I had not been obliged to go to Princedown I Avould have asked you to let me pass Easter iit Ilainault mvself."
On this very afternoon, when Myra, who had been walking in Regent's Park with her brother, returned home, she found Adriana agitated, and really in tears.
" What is all tliis, dearest ?" inquired her friend. '' I am too unhappy," sobbed Adriana, and then she told Myra that she had had a visit from Lady Montfort, and all that had oc- curred in it. Lady Montfort had absolutely congratulated her on her approaching alliance with Lord Koehampton, and Avhcn she altogether disclaimed it, and expressed her complete aston- ishment at the supposition. Lady Montfort had told her .<ho was not justified in giving Lord Roehampton so much encour- agement and trifling with a man of his high character and position.
*' Fancy my giving encouragement to Lord Roehampton," exclaimed Adriana, and she threw her arms round the neck of the friend who was to console her.
"I agree with Lady Montfort," said Myra, releasing her- self with gentleness from her distressed friend. " It may have been unconsciously on your part, but I think you have encour- aged Lord Roehamjjton. lie is constantly conversing with
MVnA AM) A I) HI AS A.
lSf>
lizo with ill-law of md who, self, will lidc that larm, for : think I ; tell him •atcful to
>>
=aifl Mr.-', e of dig- ttcmpted
:lv Mont- (bligcd to ss Easter
^ walking ho found
' I am
[yra that
had oc-
atcd her
nd when
to aston-
hcr t^ho
cncour-
icr and
ppton,*' neck of
|ng licr- ay have oncour- ig with
von, and he is always here, where he never was before, anil, as Lady ^Montfort say.^, why should ho have asked him- self to pass the Easter at Ilainault if it were not for your society ?"
'•lie invited himself to Ilainault, because he is so fond of papa," said Adriana.
'• So much the better, if he is to be your husband. Tliat will be an additional clement of domestic happiness."
'• Oh, ^lyra ! that you should say such things ! " exclaimed Adriana.
'■What things?"
'• That I should marry Lord RochamiDton."
" I never said anything of the kind. "Whom you should marry is a question you must decide for yourself. All that I said was, that if you marry Lord Eoehampton, it is fortunate he is so much liked by Mr. Xeuchatel." ^ ''I shall not marry Lord Roehampton," said Adriana, with
some determination, "and if he has condescended to think of marrying me," she continued, *' as Lady Montfort says, I think his motives arc so obvious that if I felt for him any preference it would be immediately extinguished."
" Ah ! now you are going to ride your hobby, my dear Adriana. On that subject wc never can agree ; Avere I an heir- ess, I should have as little objection to be married for my for- tune as my face. Husbands, a? I have heard, do not care for the latter too long. Have more confidence in yourself, Adriana. If Lord Eoehampton Avishes to many j-ou, it is that he is pleased with you personally, that he appreciates your intelligence, your cidture, your accomplishments, your sweet disposition, and your gentle nature. If in addition to these gifts you have wealth, and even great wealth. Lord Roehampton will not despise it, will not — for I wish to put it frankly — be uninfluenced by the circumstances, for Lord Roehampton is a wise man ; but he would not marry you if he did not believe that you would make for him a delightful companion in life, that you would adorn his circle and illustrate his name."
" Ah ! I see you are all in the plot against me," said Adriana. *' I have no friend."
190
EN DY MI ON.
Ill
** My dear Atlriiina, I think you arc unreasonable ; I could say even unkind."
"Oh ! pardon me, dear Myra," said Adriana, "^but I really am so very unhappy."
'^ About what ? You are your own mistress in this matter. If you do not like to marry Lord Roehampton nobody will at- temjit to control you. What does it signify what Lady Mont- fort says, or anybody else, except your own parents, who desire nothing but your happiness ? I should never have mentioned Lord Roehampton to you had you not introduced the subject yourself. And all that I meant to say was, what I repeat, that your creed that no one can wish to marry you except for your wealth is a morbid conviction, and must lead to unhappiness ; that I do not believe that Lord Roehampton is influenced in his overture, if he make one, by any unworthy motive, and that any woman whose heart is disengaged should not lightly repudiate such an advance from such a man, by which at all events, she should feel honored,, "
"But my heart is engaged,'' said Adriana, in an almost sol- emn tone.
"Oh ! that is quite a different thing !" said Myra, turning pale.
" Yes ! " said Adriana ; " I am devoted to one Avliose name I can not now mention, perhaps will never mention, but I am devoted to him. Yes ! " she added with fire, " I am not alto- gether so weak a thing as the Lady Montforts and some other persons seem to think mc — I can feel and decide for myself, and it shall never be said of me that I purchased love."
CHAPTER XLIV.
There was to be no great party at Hainault ; Lord Roe- hampton particularly wished that there should be no fine folks asked, and especially no ambassadors. All that he wanted was to enjoy the fresh air, and to ramble in the forest, of which ho had heard so much, with the young ladies.
MORAL AHITIIMETIC.
101
I could I really
matter. r will at- y Mont- 10 desire entioned ) subject eat, that
for your ippiness ; lenccd in tive, and >t lightly ich at all
most sol-
, turning
ose name but I am not alto- me other r myself,
ord Roe- ine folks nted was which he
*' And, by tlie by. Miss Ferrars," said Mr. Xeucliatcl, " wo must let what we were talking about the other day drop. Adriana has been with me quite excited about something Lady Montfort said to her. I soothed her and assured her she sliould do exactly as she liked, and that neither I nor her mother had any otlier wishes on such a subject tlian her ov»-n. Tlie fact is, I answered Lady Montfort originally only half in earnest. If the tiling might have happened, I should have been content — but it really never rested on my mind, because such matters must always originate with my daughter. L^nless they come from her, with me they are mere fancies. But now I want you to help me in another matter, if not more grave, more business-like. My lord must be amutcd, although it is a family party. He likes his rubber : that we can manage. But there must be two or three persons that he is not accustomed to meet, and yet Avho will interest him. Now, do you know, Miss Ferrars, whom I think of asking ?"
*'Not I, my dear sir."
*'What do you think of the colonel ?" said Mr. Neuchatel, looking in her face with a rather laughing eye.
•' Well, he is very agreeable," said Myra, " and many would think interesting, and if Lord Roehampton C^oca not know him, I think he would do very well."
"Well, but Lord Rochampton knows all about him," said Mr. Neuchatel.
'' Well, that is an advantage," said Myra.
"I do not know," said Mr. Neuchatel. '^Life is a very curious thing, eh. Miss Ferrars ? One can not ask one person to meet another even in one's own home, without going through a sum of moral arithmetic."
** Is it so ?" said Myra.
" Well, Miss Ferrars," said Mr. Neuchatel, ** I want your r ivice and I want your aid ; but then it is a long story, at which I am rather a bad hand," and Mr. Neuchatel hesitated. " You know," he said, suddenly resuming, **you once asked me who Colonel Albert was."
" But I do not ask you now," said Myra,*' because I know."
" Ilah, hah I" exclaimed Mr. Neuchatel, much surprised.
ft
M
192
FXDYMWy.
''And what you want to know is," continued Myra, "whether Lord Roeluimpton would have any objection to meet
Prince Florestan ?"
"That is something; but that is comparatively easy. I think I can manage that. But when they meet — that is the point. But, in the first place, I should like very much to know how you became acquainted with the secret."
"In a very natural way ; my brother was my informant," she replied.
" Ah ! now you see," continued ^Mr. Neuchatel, with a se- rious air, " a word from Lord Roehampton in the proper quarter might be of vast importance to the prince. He has a largo in- heritance, and has been kept out of it unjustly. Our house has done what we could for him, for his mother, Queen Agrip- pina, was very kind to my father, and the house of Keuchatel never forgets its fricntls. But we want something else, we want the British Government to intimate that they will not disapprove of the restitution of the private fortune of the prince. I have felt my way with the premier ; he is not favor- able ; he is prejudiced against the prince ; and so is the cabinet generally ; and yet all difficulties Avould vanish at a word from Lord Roehampton. "
" Well, this is a good opportunity for you to speak to him," said Myra.
" Ilcm ! " said Mr. Neuchatel, " I am not so sure about that. I like Lord Roehampton, and, between ourselves, I wish he were fij'st minister. He understands the Continent, and would keep things quiet. But, do you know. Miss Fcrrars, with all his playful, good-tempered manner, as if he could not say a cross word or do an unkind act, he is a very severe man in business. Speak to him on business, and he is completely changed. His brows knit, he penetrates you with the terrible scrutiny of that deep-set eye ; he is more than stately, he is austere. I have been up to him with deputations — the Governor of the Bank, and all the first men in the City, half of them M. Ps., and they trembled before him like aspens. No, it will not do for me to speak to him, it will spoil his visit. I think the way will be this ; if he has no objection to meet the prince, we must watch whcth-
A DELlunTtUL PAltrV.
193
}(1 ^lyra, n to meet
^ easy. I liat is the 1 to know
tormant,"
ivith a se- er quarter I largo in- )ur house cu Agrip- Kcuchatel I else, we ^ will not tie of the not favor- lie cabinet ord from
: to him,"
joiit that.
1 he were
ould keep
h all his
ay a cross
business.
cd. His
ly of that
I have
he Bank,
and they
for me to
1 be this ;
h whcth-
ii
cr the prince makes a favorable impression on him, and if that is the case, and Lord Roehampton likes him, wliat we must do next is this — you must speak to Lord Roehampton.''
*'Yes, Miss Fcrrars, you. Lord Roehampton likes ladies. lie is never austere to them, even if he refuses their requests, and sometimes he grants them. I thought first of Mrs. Neu- chatel speaking to him, but my wife will never interfere in anything in which money is concerned ; then 1 thought Adri- ana might express a hope when they were walking in the gar- den, but, now that is all over ; and so you alone remain. I have great confidence in you," added Mr. Ncuchatel, " I think you would do it very well. Besides, my lord rather likes you, for I have observed him often go and sit by you at parties, at our house."
"Yes, he is very high-bred in that," said Myra, gravely and rather sadly ; ''and the fact of my being a dependent, I have no doubt, influences him."
" "We are all dependents in this house," said Mr. Neuchatcl, with his sweetest smile ; "and I depend upon Miss Ferrars."
Affairs on the whole went on in a promising manner. The weather was delightful, and Lord Roehampton came down to Hainault just in time for dinner, the day after their arrival, and in the highest spirits. He seemed to be enjoying a real holiday ; body and mind were in a like state of expansion ; he was enchanted with the domain ; he was delighted with the mansion, everything pleased and gratified him, and he pleased and gratified everybody. The party consisted only of them- selves, except one of the nephews, with whom indeed Lord Roehampton was already acquainted ; a lively youth, a little on the turf, not too much, and this suited Lord Roehampton, who was a statesman of the old aristocratic school, still bred horses, and sometimes ran one, and in the midst of a Euro- pean crisis could spare an hour to Newmarket. Perhaps it Avas his only affectation.
Mrs. Neuchatel, by whom he was seated, had the happy gift of conversation ; but the party Avas of that delightful di- mension, that it permitted talk to be general. Myra sat next
9
If
19-t
Exn VMioy.
I!
to Lord liochamptoii, and he often addressed lier. He was tlie soul of the feasi, and yet it is difficult to describe his con- versation ; it was a medley of graceful whim, inters2)ersed now and then with a very short anecdote of a very famous person, or some deeply interesting reminiscence of some critical event. Every now and then he appealed to Adriana, who sat opposite to him in the round table, and she trusted that her irrepres- sible smiles would not be interpreted into undue encourage- ment.
Lord Roehampton had no objection to meet Prince Flores- tan, provided there were no other strangers, and the incognito was observed. lie rather -"vclcomed the proposal, observing he liked to know public men personally ; so, you can judge of their caliber, which you never can do from books and news- papers, or the oral reports of their creatures or their enemies. And so on the next day Colonel Albert was expected.
Lord Roehampton did not appear till luncheon ; ho had received so many boxes from Downing Street which required his attention. "Business will folloAV one," he said ; ''yester- day I thought I had baffled it. I do not know what I shall do Avithout my secretaries. I think I shall get you young ladies to assist me."
"You can not have better secretaries," said Mr. Xeuchatel ; "Miss Ferrars often helps me."
Then what was to be done after luncheon ? TVould he ride, or would he drive ? And where should they drive and ride to ? But Lord Roehampton did not much care to drive, and was tired of riding, lie would rather walk and ramble about Tlai- nault. lie wanted to see the place, and the forest and tho fern, and perhaps hear one of those nightingales that Ihey had talked of in Portland Place. But Mrs. Neuchatel did not care to walk, and Mr. Neucliatel, though it was a holiday in the City, had a great many letters to write, and so somehow or other it ended in Lord Roehampton and the two young ladies walking out together, and remaining so long and so late, that Mrs Neu- chatel absolutely contemplated postponing the dinner hour.
""We shall just be in time, dear Mrs. Neuchatel," said Myra ; " Lord Roehampton has gone up to his room. "We have
1
AT DIXXER.
195
He was his con- sccl now
person, il event, opposite irrcpres- courage-
) Florcs- iicognito I'ving lie judge of id news- enemies.
; lie luid required ^'yester- sliall do ig ladies
ucluitel ;
he ride,
ride to ?
and was
out Tlai-
ho fern,
d talked
care to
le City,
other it
walking
I's Neu-
lour.
1," said
We have
heard u nightingale, and Lord Roelianipltin insisted upon our sitting on the trunk of a tree till it ceased — and it never ceased.''
Colonel Albert, who had arrived, was presented to Lord Roehampton before dinner. Lord Ixoehampton received him with stately courtesy. As Myra watched, not without inter- est, the proceeding, she could scarcely Ix-lieve, as .^he marked the lofty grace and somewhat haughty mien of Lord Roeluimi)- ton, that it could be the same being of frolic and fancy, and even tender sentiment, with Avhom she hiul been passing the preceding hours.
Colonel Albert sat next to Myra at dinner, and Lord Roe- hampton between Mrs. Xeucluitel and her daughter. His manner was different to-day, not less pk-a-^vd and ])leasing, but certainly more restrained. He encouragdl Mrs. Neuchatel to occupy the chief part in conversation, and whispered to Adriana, who became somewhat uneasy ; but the whispers mainly con- sisted of his delight in their morning adventures. When he remarked that it was one of the most agreeable days of his life, she became a little alarmed. Then he addressed Colonel Albert across the table, and said that he had heard from Mr. Xeuchatel, that the colonel had been in America, and asked some questions about public men, which brought him out. Colonel Albert answered with gentleness and modesty, never at any length, but in language which indicated, on all tiie matters referred to, thought and discrimination.
"I sujipose their society is like the best society in Manches- ter ? " said Lord Roehampton.
*' It varies in different cities," said Colonel Albert. ''In some there is considerable culture, and then refinement of life always follows."
"Yes, but whatever they may be, they will always be co- lonial. What is colonial necessarily lack < ori;:^inality. A coun- try that borrows its language, its laws, ar.d its religion, can not have its inventive powers much developed. They got civ- ilized very soon, but their civilization was second-hand."
''Perhaps their inventive powers may develop themselves in other ways," said the prince. *' A nation has a fixed quan- tity of invention, and it will make itself felt."
! t 1 1
IOC
EXD y.ufoy.
** At present,'' saiil Lonl R(»i'liami)t()n, '"•' tlic Americans, I think, cni|»loy their invention in inia,u;inary l)(>undary lines. They are ^'ivin^' u.s i»lenty of tn)ul)lo now al)out Maine."
After dinner, tliey luul .-ome niu.sie ; Lord lioehanipton would not play whit^t. Jle in^^isted on comparing the voices of liis companions with that of the nightingale of the morning. lie talked a great deal to Adriana, and Colonel Albert, in the course of the evening much to Myra, and about lior brother. Lord I{oeham})ton more tiiaii once had wished to tell her, as he had already told Miss Xeuchatel, how delightful had been their morning ; but on every occasion he had found her en- gaged with the colonel.
"I rather like your prince,'' he had observed to Mr. Neu- chatel, as they came from the dining-room. " lie never speaks without thinking , very reserved, I apprehend. They say, an inveterate conspirator."
"He has luid enough of that," said Mr. Neuchatel. "I believe he wants to be quiet."
" That class of man is never quiet," said Lord Rochampton.
" But what can he do ?" said Mr. Neuchatel.
'* "What can he not do ? Half Europe is in a state of chronic conspiracy."
" You must keep us right, my dear lord. So long as you are in Downing Street I shall sleep at nights."
"Miss Ferrars," said Lord Roehampton abruptly to Mr. Neuchatel, " must have been the daughter of William Ferrars, one of my great friends in old days. I never knew it till to- day, and she did not tell me, but it flashed across me from something she said."
"Yes, she is his daughter, and is in mourning for him at this moment. She has had sorrows," said Mr. Neuchatel. "I liope they have ceased. It was one of the happiest days of my life when she entered this family."
" Ah !" said Lord Roehampton.
The next day, after they had examined the famous stud and stables there was a riding party, and in the evening Colo- nel Albert offered to perform some American conjuring tricks, of which he had been speaking in the course of the day. This
J/}'A'.( .\XD Lt)i:i> l: HHIAMl'lnS.
ii-;
ricans, I ry lines.
I
Imnipton voices of iioiMiing. t, in tlie brother. 1 her, as lad been her cn-
\h'. Ncu- jr speaks y say, an
,tol.
((
lampton.
state of
ig as you
f to i\Ir. Ferrars, t till to- me from
: him at itel. "I ys of my
ous stud ng Colo- g tricks, This
•^
was a most wonderful iterforniaiicc. and sui'prisetl and lii;j;lily amused everybody. Colonel Albi'rt was the last person whom they cxpLc'ted would achieve such marvels ; he was so (piiet, not to say grave. They could hardly credit that he was (ho same person as he poured Hoods of flowers over Myni from her own borrowed pocket-handkerchief, and without the slightest ell'oit or embarrassment, robbed Lord Iioehampton of his walch, and deposited it in Adriana's bosom. It was evident that he was a complete master of sleight of hand.
"Characteristic," murmured L^rd Iioehampton to himself.
It was the day after this, that Myra being in the music- room and alone, Lord I{oeham})fon opened the door, looked in, and then said, '"AVhere is Miss Neuchatel ?''
"1 think she is on the terrace.''
** Let us try to lind her, and have one of our i»leasaiit strolls. I sadly want one, for I have been working very hard all this morning, and half the niirht."
'" I will be with you. Lord Ii(>e]iami>ton, in a monu'nt.*'
"Do not let us luivc anvbodv el.-e,'' he said, as she left the room.
They were soon on the terrace, but Adriana was not there.
" We must find her," said Lord Roehamjjton ; "you know her haunts. Ah ! what a delight it is to be in this air and this scene after those dreadful boxes I I wish they would turn us out. I think they must soon."'
"Xowforthc first time," said Myra, '• Lord Roehainpton is not sincere."
"Then you think me always sincere ? " he replied.
** I have no reason to think 5'ou otherwise."
"That is very true," said Lord Iioehampton, "truer per- haps than you imagine." Then rather abruptly he said, " You know Colonel Albert very well ? "
"Pretty well. I have seen him here frequently, and he is also a friend of my brother."
"Ah! a friend of your brotlier." Then, after a slight pause, he said, "He is an interesting man."
" I think so," said Myra. " You knoAV all about hini;, of
course.
»
198
EXDYMIOX.
j>
*' Very good-looking."
"Well, lie looks unhappy, I think, and worn.'
** One is never worn when one is young," said Lord Roe- hampton.
''He must have great anxieties and great sorrows," said Myra. "I can not imagine a position more unfortunate than that of an exiled prince."
''I can," said Lord Rochampton. ''To have the feelings of youth and the frame of age."
Myra was silent, one might say dumfounded. She had just screwed herself up to the task which Mr. Neuchatel had imposed on her, and was about to appeal to the good offices of Lord Roehampton in favor of the prince, when he had indulged in a remark which was not only somewhat strange, but from the manner in which it was introduced hardly harmonized with her purpose.
"Yes, I would give up everything," said Lord RoCiiamp- ton. "I would even be an exile to be young; to hear that Miss Ferrars deems me interesting and good-looking, though worn."
"What is going to happen ? " thought Myra. "Will the earth open to receive me ! "
"You are silent," said Lord Roehampton. "You will not speak, you will not sigh, you will not give a glance of consola- tion or even pity. But I have spoken too much not to say more. Beautiful, fascinating being, let me at least tell you of my love. "
Myra could not speak, but put her left hand to her face. Gently taking her other hand. Lord Roehampton pressed it to his lips. " From the first moment I met you, my heart was yours. It Avas love at first sight ; indeed I believe in no other. I Avas amused with the projects of my friend, and I availed myself of them, but not unfairly. No one can accuse me of trilling with the affections of your sweet friend, and I must do her the justice to say that she did everything to convince mo that she shrank from my attentions. But her society was an excuse to enjoy yours. I was an habitual visitor in town that I might cherish my love, and, dare I say it, I came down here
MVHA'S GOOD FORTUNE.
109
3rd Roe-
to declare it. Bo not despise it, dearest of women . it is not wortliy of yon, but it is not altogether undeserving. It is, as you kindly believed it — it is sincere ! "
said
late tl.an
) feelings
She had latel had offices of indulged but from mionized
luc J lamp- lear that •, though
Will the
will not
consola-
)t to say
ill you of
her face, ssed it to icart was 10 other. ' availed ise me of must do vince mo y was an own that 3wn hero
CHAPTER XLV.
Ox the following day, Mr. Neuchatel had good naturcdly invited Endymion down to Ilainault, and when he arrived there, a servant informed him that Miss Ferrars wished to see him in her room.
It was a long interview and an agitated one, and Avlien she liad told her talc, and her brother had embraced her, she sat for a time in silence, holding his hand, and intimating, that, for a while, she wished that neither of them should speak. Suddenly she resumed, and said, *'Xow you know all, dear darling ; it is so sudden, and so strange, tliat you must be almost as much astounded as gratified. "What I have sighed for, and prayed for — what, in moments of inspiration, I have sometimes foreseen — has happened. Our degradation is over. I seem to breathe for the first time for many years. I see a career, ay, and a great one ; and what is far more important, I see a career for you."
"At this moment, dear Myra, tl>ink only of yourself."
"You arc myself," she replied, rather quickly, "never more so than at this moment ; " and then she said in a tone more subdued, and even tender, "Lord Roehampton has every quality, and every accident of life that I delight in ; he has intellect, eloquence, courage, great station and power ; and, what I ought perha])s more to consider, though I do not, a sweet disposition and a tender heart. There is every reason why we should be liappy — yes, very happy. I am sure I shall sympathize with him ; perhaps, I may aid him ; at least, he thinks so. lie is the noblest of men. The world will talk of the disparity of our years ; but Lord Roeliami)ton says that he is really the younger of the two, and I think he is right. My
!
200
ENDYMION.
pride, my intense pride, never permitted me any levity of lieart."
*' And when is it to liappen ?" inquired Endymion.
"^ Not immediately. I could not marry till a year elapsed after our great sorrow ; and it is more agreeable, even to him, that our union should be delaj'cd till the session is over. He wants to leave England ; go abroad ; have a real holiday. lie has always had a dream of traveling in Spain ; well, we are to realize the dream. If we could get off at the end of July, we might go to Paris, and then to Madrid, and travel in Andalusia in the autumn, and then catch the packet at Gibraltar, and get home just in time for the November cabinets."
"Dear Myra ! how wonderful it all seems !" involuntarily exclaimed Endymion.
*'Yes, but more Avonderful things will happen. "We have now got a lever to move the world. Understand, my dear En- dymion, that nothing is to be announced at present. It will be known only to this family, and the Penruddocks. I am bound to tell them, even immediately ; they are friends that never can be forgotten. I have always kept my correspondence lip witli Mrs. Penruddock. Besides, I shall tell her in confi- dence, and she is perfectly to be depended on. I am going to ask my lord to let Mr. Penruddock marry us."
''Oh ! that will be crpital," said Endymion.
"There is another person, b}' the by, who must know it, at least, my lord says so," said Myra, "and that is Lady Mont- fort ; you have heard of that lady and her plans. Well, she must be told — at least, sooner or later. She will be annoyed, and she will hate me. I can not help it ; every one is hated by Bomebody."
During the three months that had to elapse before the happy day, several incidents occurred that ought to be noted. In the first place. Lady Montfort, though disappointed and very much astonished, bore the communication from Lord Eoehampton more kindly than he had anticipated. Lord Roe- hampton made it by letter, and his letters to women were more happy even than his dispatches to ministers, and they were unrivaled. lie put the matter in the most skillful form.
A UEMAEKABLE PARAGRAPH.
201
evity of
• elapsed to him, er. He ay. He re are to Inly, we ndalusia tar, and
nntarily
iVe have iear En- It Avill i. I am lids tliat ontlcnce n confi- roing to
:noAV it, ]\Iont- i^cll, slio nnoycd, atcd by
ore the noted, cd and n Lord rd Roe- re more 3y were form.
Myra had been born in a social ]>o>;ition not inferior to his own, and was the daughter of one of his early political friends. He did not dilate too much on her charms and captivating qual- ities, but sufficiently for the dignity of her who was to become his wife. And then he confessed to Lady Montfort how com- pletely his heart and happiness were set on Lady Roehampton being welcomed becomingly by his friends ; he was well aware, that, in these matters things did not always proceed as one could wish, but this was the moment, and this the occasion to test a friend, and he believed he had tlie dearest, the most faithful, the most fascirating, and the most powerful in Lady Montfort.
'' Well, we must put the best face upon it,'' exclaimed that lady; "he was always romantic. But, as he says, or thinks, what is the use of friends if they do not help you in a scrape ?"
So Lady Montfort made the acquaintance of ^Myra, and welcomed her new acquaintance cordially. She was too fine a judge of beauty and deportment not to appreciate them, even when a little prejudice lurked behind. She was amused also, and a little gratified, by being in the secret ; presented Myi-a with a rare jewel, and declared <"hat she should attend the wed- ding ; though when the day arrived, she was at Princedown, ard could n^t unfortunately leave her lord.
About the end of June, a rather remarkable paragraph ap- peared in the journal of society :
"Wo understand that His Royal Highness, Prince Flo- restan, who has been for some little time in this country, has taken the mansion in Carlton Gardens, recently occupied by tlie Marquis of Katterfelto. The mansion is undergoing very considerable repairs, but it is calculated that it will be com- pleted in time for the reception of His Royal Iligliness by thj end of the autumn ; Ilis Ro3'al Highness has taken the exten- sive moors of Dinniewhiskie for the coming season."
In the earlier part of July, the approaching alliance of the Earl oi Roehampton with Miss Ferrars, the only daughter of the late Right Honorable William Pitt Ferrars, of Hurstley Hall, in the county of Berks, was announced, and great was the sensation, and innumerable the presents instantly ordered.
!!!f!l
III!
202
EXDYMIOX.
But on no one did the announcement produce greater effect than on Zcnobia ; that the daughter of her dearest friend sliould make so interesting and so distinguished an alliance ■was naturally most gratifying to her. She wrote to Myra a most impassioned letter, as if they had only separated yester- day, and a still longer and more fervent one to Lord Roehamp- ton ; Zcnobia and he had been close friends in other days, till he Avickedly changed his politics, and was always in office and Zenobia always out. This was never to be forgiven. But the bright lady forgot all this now, and sent to Myra the most wondrous bracelet of precious stones, in which the word "Sou- venir " was represented in brilliants, rubies, and emeralds.
'Tor my part," said Myra to Endymion, ''my most diffi- cult task are the bridesmaids. I am to have so many, and know so few. I feel like a recruiting sergeant. I began with Adriana, but my lord helps me very much out of his family, and says, when we have had a few family dinners, all will bo right."
Endymion did not receive the banter he expected at the office. The event was too great for a jest. Seymour Hicks, with a serious countenance, said Ferrars might get anywhere now — all the ministerial receptions of course. Jawett said there would be no ministerial receptions soon ; they were de- grading functions. Clear-headed Trenchard congratulated him quietly, and said, "I do not think you will stay much longer among us, but we shall always remember you with interest."
At last the great da\- arrived, and at St. George's, Hanover Square, the Right Honorable the Earl of Rochampton, K. G-., Avas united to Miss Ferrars. Mr. Pcnruddock joined their hands. His sod, Xigel, had been invited to assist him, but did not apjiear, though Myra liad written to him. The great world assembled in force, and Endymion observed Mr. and Mrs. Rodney and Imogene in the body of the church. After the ceremony there was an entertainment in Portland Place, and the world ate ortolans and examined the presents. These were remarkable for number and splendor. Myra could not conceal her astonishment at possessing so many friends ; but it Avas the fashion for ail Lord Roehamptou's acquaintance to
END OF THE SEAS OX.
20
titer effect ?st friend ti alliance 0 ]\ryra a 3(i yester- Rocliamp-
days, till
office and
But the
tlie most •rd '' Son- aids.
nost diffi- lany, and ?gan with s family, 11 will be
3d at tlio ir Hicks, anywhere yctt said were de- lated him eh longer erest." Hanover 11, K. G., ed their , hut did he great Mr. and After d Place, These 3uld not ; but it tancc to
..
make him offering?, and to solicit his permission to present gifts to his bride. Mr. Neuchatel placed on her brow a dia- moir- tiara, and Mrs. Neuchatcl encircled her neck Avith one of liL. diamond necklaces. *'I should like to give the other one to Adriana," she observed, " but Adriana says that nothing will ever induce her to wear jewels." Prince Florestan pre- sented Lady Roehampton with a vase which had belonged to his mother, and which had been painted by Boucher for Marie Antoinette. It was matchless, and almost unique.
Kot long after this. Lord Beaumaris, with muny servants and many guns, took Waltlershare and Endymion down with him to Scotland.
CHAPTER XLVL
The end of the season is a pang to society. More holies have been baffled than realized. There is something melan- choly in the last ball, though the music ever seems louder, and the lights more glaring than usual. Or it may be, the last enter- tainment is that hecatomb they call a wedding breakfast, which celebrates tlie triumph of a rival. That is pleasant. Society, to do it justice, struggles hard to revive in other scenes the ex- citement that has expired. It sails to Cowes, it scuds to bab- bling waters in the pine forests of the continent, it stalks even into Scotland ; but it is difficult to restore the romance that has been rudely disturbed, and to gather again together the threads of the intrigue that have been lost in the wild flight of society from that metropolis, which is now described as " a perfect desert" — that is to say, a park or so, two or three squares, and a dozen streets where society lives ; where it dines, and dances, and blackballs, and bets, and spouts.
But to the world in general, the mighty million, to the pro- fessional classes, to all men of all business whatever, the end of the season is the beginning of carnival. It is the fulfillment of the dream over which they have been brooding for ten months, which has sustained them in toil, lightened anxiety,
r
2J-1
EXD YMIOX.
and softened even lo.--;!. It is air, it is healthy it is movement, it is liberty, it is nature — earth, sea, lake, moor, forest, moun- tain and river. From the heights of the Engadine to Margate Pier, there is equal rapture, for there is an equal cessation of routine.
Few enjoy a holiday more than a young clerk in a public office, who has been bred in a gentle home, and enjoj'ed in his boyhood all the pastimes of gentlemen. Xow he is ever toil- ing, with an uncertain prospect of annual relaxation, and living hardly. Once on a time, at the paternal hall, he could shoot, or fish, or ride, every day of his life, as a matter of course ; and now, what would he not give for a good day's sport ? Such thoughts had frequently crossed the mind of Endymion when drudging in London during the autumn, and Avlien all his few acquaintances were away. It was, therefore, with no ordinary zest that he looked forward to the unexpected enjoyment of an unstinted share of some of the best shooting in the United Kingdom. And thy relaxation and the pastime came just at the right moment^, when the reaction, from all the excitement attendant on the marvelous change in his sister's position, would have made liim, deprived of her consol- ing society, doubly sensible of his isolated position.
It so happened that the moors of Lord Beaumaris were con- tiguous to the celebrated shootings of Dinniewhiskie, which were rented by Prince Florestan, and the opportunity now offered which Waldershare desired of making the acquaintance of the prince in an easy manner.' Endymion managed this very clev- erly. "Waldorpihare took a j,, jat fancy to the prince. He sym- pathized with him, and imparted to Endymion his belief that they could not do a better thing than devote their energies to a restoration of his rights. Lord Beaumaris, who hated foreign- ers, but who was always influenced by Waldershare, also liked the prince, and was glad to be reminded by his mentor that Flores- tan was half an Englishman, not to say a whole one, for he was an Eton boy. What was equally influential with Lord Beau- maris was, that the prince was a fine shot, and indeed a consum- mate sportsman, and had in his manners that calm which is rather unusual with foreigners, and which is always pleasing to
it
V
m
V
THE DUKE OF ST. AXGELO.
205
an English aristocrat. So in time tlicy became intimtite, sported much together, and visited each other at their respective (juar- ters. The prince was never alone. What the county paper described as distinguished foreigners were perpetually paying him visits, long or short, and it did not generally appear that these visits were influenced by a love of sport. One individual, who arrived shortly after the prince, remained, and, as './as soon known, Avas to remain permanently. This was a young gentleman, short and swarthy, with flashing eyes and a black mustache, known by the name of the Duke of Si. Angelo, but who was really only ri cadet of that illustrious house. The Duke of St. Angelo took the management of the household of the prince — was evidently the controller ; servants trembled at liis nod, and he rode any horse he liked ; he invited guests, and arranged the etitiucttc of the interior. He said one day very coolly to Waldershare : "I observe that Lord Beaumaris and his friends never rise when the i^rince moves. "
''Why should we?"
" His rank is recognized and guaranteed by the Treaty of Vienna," said the Duke of St. Angelo, with an arrogant air.
"His princely rank," replied AValdershare, "but not his royalty."
"That is a mere refinement," said the duke contempt- uously.
" On the contrary, a clear distinction, and specifically made in the treaty. I do not think the prince himself would desire such a ceremony, and let me recommend you, duke," added Waldershare, "not to go out of your way to insist on these points. They will not increase the prince's popularity."
"The time will come, and before long, when the Treaty of Vienna, with its clear distinctions, will be at the bottom of the Red Sea," said the Duke of St. Angelo, "and then no one will sit when his Majesty rises."
"Amen!" said Waldershare. "All diplomacy since the Treaty of Utrecht seems to me to be fiddle-faddle, and the country rewarded the great man who made that treaty by an attainder."
Endymion returned to town toward the end of September,
I I «
t 1
2<.)0
JJiVZ) VMIOX.
Wuklcrsliarc went to Paris, and Lord Beaumaris and the prince, who liad Ijccome intimate, repaired together to Coning- ton, the seat of Lord Beaumaris, to kill pheasants. Even the Rodneys, who had gone to the Rhine this year, had not re- turned. Endymion luid only the society of his felloAV-clerks. lie liked Trenchard, who was acute, full of official information, and of gentle breeding. Still it must be confessed that En- dymion felt the change in his society. Seymour Ilicks was hardly a fit successor to Waldershare, and Jawett's rabid ab- stractions on government were certainly not so interesting a3 la Jiaute iwlitique of the Duke of St. Angelo. Were it not for the letters which ho constantly received from his sister, ho would have felt a little despondent. As it was, he renewed his studies in his pleasant garret, trained himself in his French and German, and got up several questions for the L^nion.
The month seemed very long, but it was not unprofitably spent. The Rodneys were still absent. They had not returned as they had intended direct to England, but had gone to Paris to meet Mr. Waldershare.
At the end of October there was a semi-official paragraph announcing the approaching meeting of the Cabinet, and the movements of its members. Some were in the north, and some were in the south ; some were killing the last grouse, and some, placed in green ridings, Avere blazing in battues. But all were to be at their post in ten days, and there was a special notifica- tion that intelligence had been received of the arrival of Lord and Lady Roehampton at -Gibraltar.
CHAPTER XLVIL
Lady Roehampton, in her stately mansion in St. James' Square, found life very different from what she had experienced in her Andalusian dream. For three months she had been the constant companion of one of the most fascinating of men, whose only object had been to charm and delight her. And in this he had entirely succeeded. From the moment they arrived
Paris
LORD AXn LADY ROEIIAMPlOy.
207
'<#
in London, however, tlicy seemed to be separated, tind iilthoiigh wlicn they met, there -was ever a sweet smile and a kind and playful word for her, his brow, if not oppressed with care, was always weighty with thought. Lord lloehumpton was little at his office ; he worked in a spacious chamber on the ground iloor of his private residence, and which was called the library, though its literature consisted only of Ilan&ard, volumes of state papers, shelves of treatises, and interminable folios of parliamentary reports. He had not been at home a week be- fore the floor of the apartment was literally covered with red boxes, all containing documents requiring attention, and which messengers were perpetually bringing or carrying away. Then there were long meetings of the Cabinet almost daily, and daily visits from ambassadors and foreign ministers, which i)rc vented the transaction of the current business, and rendered it neces- sary that Lord Rochampton should sit up late in his cabinet, and work sometimes nearly till the hours of dawn. There had been of course too some arrears of business, for secretaries of state can not indulge with impunity in Andalusian dreams, but Lord Roehampton was well served. His under secretaries of state were capable and experienced men, and their chief had not been altogether idle in his wanderings. lie had visited Paris, and the capital of France in those days was the capital of diplomacy. The visit of Lord Roehampton had settled some questions which might have lingered for years, and had given him that opportunity of personal survey which to a statesman is invaluable.
Although it was not the season, the great desert had, com- paratively speaking, again become peopled. There were many persons in town, and they all called immediately on Lady Roe- hampton. The ministerial families and the diplomatic corps alone form a circle, but there is also a certain number of charm- ing people who love London in November, and lead there a wondrous pleasant life of real amusement, until their feudal traditions and their domestic duties summon them back to their Christmas homes.
Lord and Lady Roehampton gave constant dinners, and after they had tried two or three, he expressed his wish to his wife that
I
208
END YMIOX.
she sliould hold a small reception after these dinners. lie was a man of great tact, and he wished to launch his wife quietly xmd safely on the social ocean. ** There is nothing like prac- ticing before Christmas, my love," he would say, "you will get your hand in, and be able to hold regular receptions in the spring." And he was quite right. The dinners became the mode, and the assemblies were eagerly appreciated. The Secre- tary of the Treasury whispered to an Under-Secretary of State, ''This marriage was a coup. We have got another house."
Myra had been a little anxious about the relations between Lord Roehampton and her brother. She felt with a woman's instinct, that her husband might not bo overplcased by her devotion to Endymion, and she could not resist the conviction that the disparity of age which is easily forgotf'-n in a wife, xmd especially in a wife who adores you, assumes a different, and somcAvhat distasteful character, when a great statesman is obliged to recognize it in the shape of a boyisli brother-in-law. But all went right, for the sweetness of Lord Roehampton's temper was inexhaustible. Endymion had paid several visits to St. James' Square before Myra could seize the opportunity, for which she was ever watching, to make her husband and her brother acquainted.
*' And so you are one of us," said Lord Roehampton, with his sweetest smile and in his most musical tone, "and in oflice. We must try to give you a lift." And then lie asked En- dymion who was his chief, and how he liked him, and then he said, "A good deal depends on a man's chief. I was under 3'our grandfather when I first entered Parliament, and I never knew a pleasanter man to do business with. He never made difficulties ; he always encouraged one. A younker likes that."
Lady Roehampton was desirous of paying some attention to all those wdio had been kind to her brother ; particularly Mr. Waldershare and Lord Beaumaris — and she wished to invite them to her house. "I am sure Waldershare would like to come," said Endymion, "but Lord Beaumaris, I know, never goes anywhere, and I have myself heard him say he never would."
"Yes, my lord was telling me Lord Beaumaris was quite
>.i
?>
1
J
THE Xi;W J/JX
209
quite
farouche, aiul it is feared that we may lose him. That would be sad," said Myra, "for he is powerful."
*'I should like very much if you could give me a card for Mr. Trenchard,'' said Endymion ; "• he is not in society, but he is quite a gentleman."
"You shall have it, my dear. I have always liked Mr. Trenchard, and I dare say, some day or other, he may he of use to you."
The Neuchatels were not in town, but Myra saw them fre- quently, and Mr. Neuchatcl often dined in St. James' Square — but the ladies always declined every invitation of the kind. They came up from Ilainault to see Myra, but looked as if nothing but their great affection would prompt such a sacrifice, and seemed always pining for Arcadia. Endymion, however, not unfrequently continued his Sunday visits to Ilainault, to which Mr. Ncuchatel had given him a general welcome. This young gentleman, indeed, soon experienced a considerable change in his social position. Invitations flocked to him, and often from persons whom he d'd not know, and Avho did not even know him. He went by the name of Lady Iloehanipton's brotlier, and that was a sufficient passport.
" We arc trying to get up a carpet dance to-night," said Belinda to a fair friend. " Wluit men arc in town ? "
" "Well, there is ^Ir. Waldershare, who has just left me."
"I have asked him."
"Then there is Lord Willcsden and Henry Grantley, I know they are passing through town — and there is the new man, Lady Eochamp ton's brother."
" I will send to Lord Willesden and Henry Grantley imme- diately, and perhaps you will send a card, which I will write here, for me to the new man."
And in this way Mr. Ferrars soon found that he was what is called "everywhere."
One of the most interesting acquaintances that Lady Eoe- hampton made Avas a colleague of her husband, and that was Mr. Sidney Wilton, once the intimate friend of her father. He had knoAvn herself and her brother when they were children, indeed from the cradle. Mr. Sidney Wilton was in the perfec-
210
ENDYMIOX.
tion of middle life, and looked young for his years. lie was tall and pensive, and naturally sentimental, though a long po- litical career, for he had entered the House of Commons for the family borough the instant he was of age, had brought to this susceptibility a salutary har'lness. Although somewhat alienated from the friend of his youth by the course of affairs, for Mr. Sidney Wilton had followed Lord Roehampton, while Mr. Ferrars had adhered to the Duke of Wellington, he had not neglected Ferrars in his fall, but his offers of assistance, frankly and generously made, had been coldly though courte- ously rejected, and no encouragement had been given to the maintenance of their once intimate acquaintance.
Mr. Sidney Wilton was much struck by the appearance of Lady riochami)ton. He tried to compare the fulfdlment of her promise with the beautiful and haughty child whom he used to wonder her parents so extravagantly spoiled. Her stature was above the average height of women and finely developed and proportioned. liut it was in the countenance — in the pel- lucid and commanding brow, the deep splendor of her dark- blue eyes softened by long lashes, her short njiper lip, and the rich profusion of her dark chestnut hair — that his roused mem- ory recalled the past ; and he fell into a mood of agitated con- templation.
The opportunities wliich he cnjoj'ed of cultivating her so- ciety were numerous, and Mr. Wilton missed none. He was frequently her guest, and being himself the master of r splen- did establishment, he could offer her a hospitality which every one appreciated. Lord Rochamjjton was peculiarly his political chief, and they had alwa3-s been socially intimate. As tlie trusted colleague of her husband — as one who had known her in her childhood, and as himself a man singularly qualified, by his agreeable conversation and tender and deferential manner, to make his way with women — Mr. Sidney Wilton had no great difficulty, particularly in that happy demi-season which pre- cedes Christmas, in establishing relations of confidence and intimacy with Lady Roehampton.
The cabinets were over : the government had decided on their measures, and put them in a state of preparation, and
CIIIilSTMAs AT (lAYoHXi:.
211
--^
i
they were about to (lis])er.se for a inoiitli. 'V\\v .-out (»!' \a)\\\ Roeliampton was in the extreme iiortli of England, and a viait to it was inconvenient at this moment, and especially at this season. The department of Lord Koehampton was very active at this time, and he was unwilling that the first impression by his wife of her future homo should bo cxperienct 1 at a season little favorable to the charms of a northern seal. Mr. Sidney AVilton was the proprietor of the most beautiful and the most celebrated villa in England ; only twenty miles from town, seated on a wooded crest of the swan-crowned Tliames, with gardens of delight, and woods full of j)heasant-!, and a terrace that would have become a court, glancing over a wide exi)anso of bower and glade, studded with bright halls and delicate stee- ples, and the smoke of rural homes.
It was arranged that Lord and Lady Roeliampton should pass their Christmas at Gaydenc with Mr. Sidney Wilton, stay as long as they liked, go where they chose, but make it their headquarters. It was a most successful visit ; for a great deal of business was done, as well as pleasure enjoyed. The ambas- sadors, who arc always a little uneasy at Christmas when ever}'- body is away, and themselves without country homes, were all invited down for that week. Lord Rochampton used to give them audiences after the shooting parties. lie thought it was a specific against their being too long. He used to say, " The first dinner-bell often brings things to a point." After Christ- mas there was an ever-varying stream of company, chiefly official and parliamentar3\ The banquet and the battue did not always settle the business, the clause, or the schedule, Avliich the guests often came down to Gaydenc ostensibly to accomplish, but they sent men back to town with increased energy and good humor, and kept the party in heart. Toward the end of the month the premier came down, and for him the Blue Ribbon Cover had been reserved, though he really cared little for sport. It was an eighteenth-century tradition that knights of the garter had only been permitted lo shoot this choice preserve, but Mr. Sidney AVilton, in this advanced age, did not of course revive such an ultra-exclusive practice, and he was particular in arranging the party to include ^Iv. Jor-
212
END YMIOX.
rocks. This was <a radical member to whom considerable office had been given at the reconstruction of 1835, when it was necessary that the Whigs should conciliate the Mountain. lie was a pretentious, underbred, half-educated man, fluent with all the commonplaces of middle-class ambition, which are hu- morously called democratic ojiinions, but at heart a sj'cophant of the aristocracy, lie represented, however, a large and im- jiortant constituency, and his jiromotion was at first looked upon as a masterpiece of management. The Mountain, who knew Jorrocks by heart, and felt that they had in their ranks men in every sense his superior, and that he could be no rep- resentative of their intelligence and opinions, and so by degrees prepare for their gradual admission to the sacred land, at first sulked over the promotion of their late comjjanion, and only did not publicly deride it from the feeling that by so doing they might bo playing the game of the ministry'. At the time of Avhicli we arc writing, having become extremelv discontented and wishing to annoy the government, they even affected dis- satisfaction at the subordinate position which Jorrocks occu- pied in the administration, and it was generally said — had become indeed the slang of the partj" — that the test of the eincerity of the ministry to Liberal principles was to put Jorrocks in the cabinet. The countenance of the premier when this choice programme was first communicated to him was Avhat might have been expected had he learned of the sud- den descent upon this isle of an invading force, and the Secre- tary of tlie Treasury w^hispercd in confidence to one or two leaders of the Mountain, '' that if they did not take care, they would upset the government."
''That is exactly what we want to do," was the reply.
So it will be seen that the position of the ministry, previous to the meeting of Parliament in 1839, was somewhat critical. In the mean time, its various mciiibers, who knew their man, lavished every practical social attention on Jorrocks. The din- ners they gave him were doubled ; they got their women to call on his women ; and Sidney Wilton, a member of an illustrious garter family, cnpped the climax by ajipointing him one of the party to shoot the Blue Ribbon Cover.
jIq office 1 it was lin. He lit with . are liu- cophant and im- : looked lin, who ir ranks no rcp- ' degrees , at first nd only 0 doing ;lie time )ntcntcd ted dis- ks occu- id — had t of the
to put premier L to him the sad- e Sccre-
or two re, they
previous critical, sir man, rhe din- n to call ustrious le of the
ENDYMION'S GOOD FORTUXE.
215
, "J
Mr. "Wilton had invited Endymion to Gaydcne, and as Ills', stay there could only he brief, had even invited him to repeat the visit. He was, indeed, unaffectedly kind to one Avliom he remembered so young, and was evidently pleased with him.
One evening, a day or two before the breaking up of the party, while some charming Misses Playfellow, with an impudent brother, who all lived in the neighborhood, were acting charades,. Mr. Wilton said to Lady Roehampton, by whose side he was sit- ting in the circle :
" I have had a very busy morning about my office. There is to be a complete revolution in it. .The whole system is to be reconstructed ; half the present people are to be pensioned off, and new blood is to be introduced. It struck me that this might be an opening for your brother. He is in the public ser- vice— that is something ; and as there are to be so many new men, there will be no jealousy as to his promotion. If you will speak to him about it, and he likes it, I will appoint him one of the new clerks ; and then, if he also likes it, he shall be my pri- vate secretary. That will give him position, and be no mean addition to his income, you know, if we last — but that depends, I suppose, on Mr. Jorrocks."
Lady Roehampton communicated all this to her brother on her return to London. " It is exactly what I wished," she said. '' I wanted you to be private secretary to a cabinet minister, and if I were to chose any one, except, of course, my lord, it would be Mr. Wilton. He is a perfect gentleman, and was dear papa's friend. I understand you will have three hundred a year to be- gin with, and the same amount as his secretary. You ought to be able to live with ease and propriety on six hundred a year — and this reminds me of what I have been thinking of before we went to Gaydene. I think now you ought to have a more becom- ing residence. The Rodneys are good people, I do not doubt, and I dare say we shall have an opportunity of proving our sense of their services ; but they are not exactly the people that I care for you to live with, and, at any rate, you can not reside any longer in a garret. I have taken some chambers in the Albany, therefore, for you, and they shall be my contribution to your housekeeping. They arc not badly furnished, but they belonged
il
! !
|i I I
! I
214
ENDYMIOX.
to an old general officer, and arc not very new-fashioned ; but Ave will go together and sec them to-morrow, and T dare say I shall goon be able to make them comme ilfaut.'^
CHAPTER XLVIII.
This considerable rise in the life of Endymion, after the first excitement occasioned by its announcement to him had somewhat subsided, was not contemplated by him witli un- mixed feelings of satisfaction. It seemed to terminate many relations of life, the value of which he had alwa3^s appreciated, but which now, Avith their impending conclusion, he felt, and felt keenly, had absolutely contributed to his hap})iness. There was no great pang in fjuitting his fellow-clerks, except Trencli- ard, whom he greatly esteemed. But poor little Warwick Street had been to him a real home, if unvarying kindness, and sedulous attention, and the atfcction of the eyes and heart, as well as of the mouth, can make a hearth. He hoped he might preserve the friendship of Waldershare, which their joint intimacy with the prince Avould favor ; but still he could hardly flatter himself that the delightful familiarity of their past lives could subsist. Endymion sighed; and then he sighed again. He felt sad. Because he was leaving the humble har- bor of refuge, the entrance to which, even in the darkest hour of his fallen fortunes, was thought somewhat of an indignity, and was about to assume a position Avhich would not have alto- gether misbecome the earliest expectations of his life ? That seems unreasonable ; but mankind, fortunately, are not always governed by reason, but by sentiment, and often by very tender sentiment.
When Endymion, sitting in his little room, analyzed his feelings, ho came to the conclusion that his sadness was occa- sioned by his having to part from Imogene. It often recpiires an event in life, and an unexpected one, to make us clearly aware of the existence of feelings which have long influenced us. Never having been in a position in which the possibility
d ; but ■e say I
tcr the im liad itli un- } miiiiy ?ciatcd, ?lt, and
There rrench- k''ar\vick iidncss, \ heart, )pcd he h their c could jf their
sighed blc har-
st hour lignitVj ve alto- That
always
tender
zed his IS occa- •equires clearly uenced ibility
-t
t
ENDYMWN SPECULATES ON IIIS EUTUEE. 215
of uniting his fate to another could cross liis mind for a mo- ment, he had been content with the good fortune Avhich per- mitted a large portion of his life to be passed in tlie society of a woman wliOj unconsciously both to him and to herself, had fascinated liim. The graceful child who, four or five years ago, had first lit him to his garret, without losing anything of her rare and simple ingenuousness, had developed into a beau- tiful and accomplished woman. There was a strong resem- blance between Imogcnc and her sister, but Imogene was a brunette. Her countenance indicated far more intellect and character than that of Sylvia. Tier brow was delicately pen- ciled and finely arched, and her large dark ej'es gleamed witli a softness and sweetness of expression, which were irresistibly attractive, and seemed to indicate sympathy witli everything that was good and beautiful. Her features Avere not so regu- lar as her sister's ; but when she smiled, her face was cajiti- vating.
Endymion had often li-tencd, half with fondness and half with skepticism, to AValdershare dilating, according to his wont, on the character and qualities of Imogene, whom he persisted in believing he was preparing for a great career. ''How it will come about I can not say," he Avould remark; *'but it will come. If my legitimate sovereign were on the throne, and I in the possession of my estates, Avhich were graciously presented by the usurper to the sausage-makers, or some other choice middle-class corporation, I would marry her myself. But that is impossible. Tliat would only be asking her to share my ruin. I want lier to live in palaces, and perhaps in my decline of life, make me her librarian, like Casanova. I should be content to dine in her hall every day beneath the salt, and see her enter with her state, amid the flourish of trumpets." And now, strange to say, Endymion was specu- lating on the fate of Imogene, and, as he thought. In a more practical spirit. Six hundred a year, lie thought, was not a very large income ; but it was an income, and one which a year ago he never contemplated possessing, until getting gray in the public service. Why not realize perfect happiness at once ? He could conceive no bliss greater tlian living with
216
ENDYMIOX.
Imogcno in one of tliose little villas, even if scmi-dotached, which arc now numbered by tens of thousands, and which were then beginning to shoot out their suburban antennce in every direction of our huge metropolis. He saw her in his mind's eye in a garden of perpetual sunshine, breathing of mignonette and bright with roses, and waiting for him as ho came down from town and his daily labors, in the cheap and convenient omnibus. What a delightful companion to wel- come him ! How much to tell her, and how much to listen to ! And then their evenings with a delicious book or some delightful music ! What holidays, too, of romantic adven- ture ! The vine-clad Rhine, perhaps Switzerland ; at any rate, the quaint old cities of Flanders, and the winding valley of the Meuse. They could live extremely well on six hundred a year ; yes, with all the real refinements of existence. And all this genuine happiness was to be sacrificed for utterly fantastic and imaginary gratifications, which, if analyzed, would be found only to be efforts to amuse and astonish others.
It did not yet occur to Endymion that his garden could not always be sunshiny ; that cares crop up in villas, even semi- detached, as well as joys ; that he would have children, and perhaps too many ; that they would be sick, and tliat doctors' bills would soon put a stop to romantic excursions ; that his wife would become exhausted with nursing, and clothing, and teaching them ; that she herself would become an invalid, and moped to death ; that his resources would every day bear a less l)roportion to his expenditure ; and that wanting money, he would return too often' from town a harassed husband to a jaded wife !
Mr. R:dney and Sylvia were at Conington on a visit to Lord Beaumaris, hunting. It was astonishing how Sylvia had rode to the hounds, mounted on the choices c steeds, and in a scarlet habit which had been presented to her by Mr. Vigo. She had created quite an enthusiasm in the field, and Lord Beaumaris was proud of his guests. When Endymion parted with his sister at the Albany, where they had been examining his rooms, he had repaired io Warwick Street, with some ex- pectation that the Rodneys would have returned from Coning"
r
i
EXDYMIOX AXD IMOGEXE.
21T
[otached, d which tcnnre in n* in his ithing of im as ho heap and 1 to wcl- to listen or some ic adven- any rate, valley of uindred a And all ' fantastic would be
•
could not jven scmi- rcn, and doctors* that his lung, and alid, and )ear a less tioney, he and to a
visit to ylvia had and in a ^Ir. Vigo. nd Lord n parted amining some ex- Coning'
ton, and he intended to break to his host the impending change in his life. The Rodneys, however, had not arrived, and so ho ascended to his room, where he had been employed in arrang- ing his books and papers, and in indulging in tlie reverie whicli we have indicated. AVhen he came down stairs, wishing to in- quire about the probable arrival of his landlord, Endymion knocked at the door of the joarlor where ihcy used to assemble, and on entering, found Imogene writing.
" How do you do, Mr. Ferrars ? " slie said, rising. *• I am writing to Sylvia. They are not returning as soon as they in- tended, and I am to go down to Conington by an early train to-morrow."
" I wanted to see Mr. Rodney," said Endymion moodily.
" Can I write anything to him, or tell him anything ?" said Imogene.
" No," continued Endj'mion, in a melancholy tone. '*I can tell you what I wanted to say. But you must be occupied now, going away, and unexpectedly, to-morrow. It seems to me that every one is going away."
** Well, we have lost the prince, certainly," said Imogene, ''and I doubt Avhcthcr his rooms will be ever let again."
" Indeed ! " said Endymion.
"Well, I only know what Mr. Waldersharc tells me. lie says that Mr. Rodney and Mr. Vigo have made a great specu- lation, and gained a great deal of money ; but Mr. Rodney never speaks to me of such matters, nor indeed does Sylvia. I am myself very sorry that the prince is gone, for he interested me much."
" Well, I should think Mr. Rodney would not be very sorry to get rid of me, then," said Endymion.
" Oh ! Mr. Ferrars, why should you say or think such things ? I am sure that my brother and sister, and indeed every one in this house, always consider your comfort and wel- fare before any other object."
"Yes," said Endymion, *'you have all been most kind to me, and that makes me more wretched at the prospect of leav- ing you."
" But there is no prospect of that ? "
10 '
A
218
END YMION.
[■ :■
\'
"A certainty, Imogene ; there is going to be a cliange in my life," and tlicn \e told her all.
*' "Well," said Tmogene, '* it would be selfish not to be hap- py at what I hear ; but though I hope I am linppy, I need not be joyful. I never used to be nervous, but I am afraid I am getting so. All these great changes rather shake me. This adventure of the prince — as Mr. Waldcrshare says, it is history. Then Miss Myra's groat marriage, and your promotion — al- though they are exactly what we used to dream about, and wished a fairy would accomplish, and somehow felt that, some- how or other, they must happen — yet, now they have occurred, one id almost as astounded as delighted. We certainly have been very happy in Warwick Street, at least I have been, all living as it were together. But where shall we be this time next year ? All scattered, and perhaps not even the Rodneys under this roof. I know not how it is, but I dread leaving the roof where one has been happy."
'' Oh ! you know you must leave it one day or other, Imo- gene. You are sure to marry ; that you can not avoid."
" Well, I am not by any means sure about that," said Imo- gene. " Mr. Waldcrshare, in educating me, as he says, as a princess, has made me really neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, nor even that coarser but popular delicacy never forgotten. I could not unite n: / life with a being who was not refined in mind and in manners, and the men of my class in life, who are the only ones after all who might care to marry me, shock my taste. I am ^amed to say so. . I am not sure it is not wicked to think it even ; but so it is."
''Why do you not marry Waldcrshare ? " said Endymion.
" That would bo madness ! I do not know any alliance that could prove more unfortunate ; Mr. Waldcrshare must never marry. All people of imagination, they say, are diflficult to live with ; but a person who consists solely of imagination, like Mr. Waldersharf who has indeed no other attribute — be- fore a year was past, married, he would fly to the desert or to La Trappe, commit terrible scandals from mere weariness of feeling, write pasquinades against the wife of his bosom, and hold us both up to the fierce laughter of the world. No, no j
<v
WHITEHALL,
210
liaiige in
D be hap- necd not [•iiid I am ic. This s history. )tion — al- bout, and lat, some- occurred, have been all living time next leys under g the roof
ther, Imo-
lid."
said Inio- says, as a fowl, nor
[1. I could mind and the onlj taste. I d to think
dymion. ly alliance hare must •e difficult [agination, ibute^be- lesert or to jariness of [osom, and No, no ;
;*,
mt%
$.
he is the best, the dearest, and the most romantic of friends ; tender as a father, and sometimes as wise, for genius can be everything. He is going to rise early to-morrow, wliich he particularly dislikes, because he will not let me go to the sta- tion alone ; though I tell him, as I often tell him, those are the becoming manners of my class."
'■But you might meet a person of the icfincmcnt you re- quire," said Endymion, *Mvith a moderate and yet a sufhcient income, who would not be unworthy of you."
"I doubt it," said Imogene.
*'But, do not doubt it, dear Imogene," said Endj'mion, advancing, *' such charms as yours, both of body and of mind, such a companion in life, so refined, so accomplished, and yet endowed with such clear sense, and such a sweet disposition — believe me — ! "
But, at this moment, a splendid equipage drove up to the door, with powdered footmen and long canes behind, and then a terrible rap, like the tattoo of a field-marshal.
''Good gracious ! what is all this ?" exclaimed Imogene.
"lu is my sister," said Endymion, blushing. "It is Lady Roehampton."
" I must go to her myself," said Imogene, " I can not have the servant attend upon your sister."
Endymion remained silent and confused. Imogene was some little time at the carriage-door, for Lady Roehampton had inquiries to make after Sylvia and other courteous things 10 say, and then Imogene returned, and said to Endymion, " Lady Roehampton wishes you to go with her directly on some particular business."
CHAPTER XLIX.
ExDYMiox liked his new official life very much. White- hall was a great improvement on Somerset House, and he had sufficient experience of the civil service to duly appreciate the advantage of being permanently quartered in one of the chief departments of the state, instead of obscurely laboring in a
220
FXUYMION.
siiljordin.ite office, -with a I'mitecl future, and detached from all the keenly interesting details of }.aljlic life. But it was not liiis permanent and substantial advantage which occasioned him such lively and such novel pleasure as the fact of his be- ing a private secretary, and a private secretary to a cabinet minister.
The relations between a minister and his secretary are, or at least should be, among the finest that can subsist between two individuals. Except the married state, there is none in which so great a degree of confidence is involved, in which more forbearance ought to be exercised, or more sympathy ought to exist. There is usually in the relation an identity of interest, and that of the highest kind. ; and the perpetual dif- ficulties, the alternations of triumph and. defeat, develoj) devo- tion. A youthful secretary will naturally feel some degree of enthusiasm for his chief, and a wise minister Avill never stint his regard for one in whose intelligence and honor he finds ho can place confidence.
There never was a happier prospect of these relations being established on the most satisfactory basis than in the instance of Endymion and his ncAV master. Mr. Sidney Wilton was a man of noble disposition, fine manners, considerable culture, and was generally gracious. But he was disposed to be more than gracious to Endymion, and when he found that our young friend had a capacity for work — that his perception was quick and clear — that he wrote with facility — never made difficulties — was calm, sedulous, -and patient, the interest which Mr. Wilton took in him as the son of William Ferrars, and, wo must add, as the brother of Lady Roehampton, became ab- sorbed in the personal regard Avhich the minister soon enter- tained for his secretary. Mr. Wilton found a pleasure in forming tiie mind of Endymion to the consideration and com- prehension of public affairs ; he spoke to him both of men and things without reserve ; revealed to him the characters of lead- ing personages on both sides, illustrated their antecedents, and threw light upon their future ; taught him the real condition of parties in Parliament, rarely to be found in newspapers ; and finally, when he was sufficiently initiated, obtained for liis
'4
led from t 'WHS not 3casioned >f his be- X cabinet
ry arc, or , between 3 none in in wliich sympathy ientity of ctual dif- ?lop devo- degree of ever stint B finds ho
ions being e instance ton was a culture, be more )ur young was quick [ifficulties [hich Mr. and, wc ?came ab- )on enter- jasure in land com- mon and k of lead- lents, and Icondition [\^spapers ; }d for hi»
J/i?. WILTO.Wi A7Mjyj:SS.
2'2i
1 ^
!
GPcretary a key for his cabinet boxes, whicli left liHlc of tlio business of j;overiiment unknown to Endymion.
Such great confidence, and tliat exhibited by one wlio pos- sessed so many winning qualities excited in the breast of En- dymion tlie most lively feelings of gratitude and regard. lie tried to prove them by the vigilant and unwearying labor with which he served his master, and he served him every day more effectually, because every day he became more intimate v.ith the mind and methv>d of Mr. Wilton. Every one to a certain degree is a mannerist ; every one has his ways ; and a secretary will bo assisted in the transaction of business if a vigilant ob- servation has made him acquainted with the idiosyncrasy of his chief.
The regulations of the ofllcc which authorize a clerk, ap- pointed to a private secretaryship, to deviate from the routine duties of the department, and devote his time entirely to the special requirements of his master, of course mucli assisted En- dymion, and Avas also a pleasant relief, for he had had enough at Somerset House of copying documents and drawing up for- mal reports. But it was not only at Whitehall that he saw ^Ir. Wilton, and experienced his kindness. Endymion was a fre- quent guest under Mr. Wilton's roof, and Mr. AVilton's estab- lishment was one of the most distinguished in London. They met also much in the eve^-'-ngs, and always at Lady Roehamp- ton's, where Mr. Wilton was never absent. Whenever and wherever they met, even if they had been working together the Avliole morning, Mr. Wilton alwavs sxreeted Endvmion with the utmost consideration — because he knew such a recognition would raise Endymion in the eyes of the social herd, who al- ways observe little things, and generally form from them their opinions of great affairs.
.-if.
222
END YM ION.
CHAPTER L.
Mr. Wilton Avas ut Charing Cross, on his way to liis office, ■when a hidy saluted iiim from her carriage, whicli tlien drovv up to the pavement and stopped.
''We have just arrived," said Lady Montfort, "and I want you to give me a little dinner to-day. My lord is going to dine with an Old Bailey lawyer, who amuses him, and I do not like to be left, the first day, on the pavS.""
"■ I can give you a rather large dinner, if you care to come," said Mr. AVilton, "but I fear you will not like it. I have got some House of Commons men dining with me to-day, and one or two of the other house to meet them. My sister Georgina has very good-naturedly promised to come, with her husband, and I have Just written a note to the Duchess Dowager of Kes- wick, who often helps me — but I fear this sort of thing Avould hardly suit you."
" On the contrary, I think it will be very amusing. Only do not put me between two of your colleagues. Anybody amuses me for once. A new accpiaintancc is like a new book. I prefer it, even if bad, to a classic."
The dinner party to-day at Mr. Wilton's was miscellaneous, and not heterogeneous enough to produce constraint, only to l)roduce a little excitement — some commoners liigli in office, and the Treasury whip, several manufacturers who stood to- gether in the room, and «o:nc metropolitan members. Georgi- na's husband, who was a lord in waiting, and a great swell, in a green ribbon, moved about with adroit condescension, and was bewitchingly affable. The manufacturing members Avhis- pered to each other that it Avas a wise thing to bring the tAVo houses together, but Avhen Her Grace the Duchess DoAvager of KesAvick Avas announced, they exchanged glances of astounded satisfaction, and felt that the government, Avhicli had been thought to be in a somcAvhat rickety condition, would certainly stand. ' •
Berengaria came a little late, not A'cry. She thought it had been earlier, but it Avas not. The duchess dowager opened her
AT DIXXER.
223
I Ills office, then drevv^
mcl I want 3 going to d I do not
to come," I have got y, and one r Georgina L' husband, rer of Kes-
ling would
ng. Only
Anybody
new book.
;cllaneous,
;t, only to
in office,
stood to-
Georgi-
: swell, in
ision, and
bers Avhis-
g the two
owager of
astounded
had been
certainly
^ht it had 3encd her
eyes with Avondermcnt when she beheld Lady Montfort, but the company in general ./ere not in the least aware of the vast social event that was occurring. They were gratified in seeing another fine lady, but did not, of course, rank her with a duchess.
The dinner went off better than Mr. Wilton could have hoped, as it was impossible to place a stranger by Lady Mont- fort, lie sat in the middle of his table with the duchess dow- ager on his right and Berengarla, who was taken out by the green ribbon, on the other. As he knew the green ribbon woi Id be soon exhausted, he devoted himself to Lady Montfort, and left the duchess to her own resources, which were considerable, and slie was soon laying down hor oj)inions on men and things to her other neighbors with much effect. The manufacturers talked shop to each other in whispers, that is to say, mixed Houtc of Commons tattle about bills and committees with news from Manchester and Liverpool, and the "West Riding. The metropolitan members, then a more cosmoiwlitan body and highly miscellaneous in their character and pursuits, Avere louder, and perhaps more easy, even ventured to talk across the table when near its end, and enticed the peers into discus- sions on foreign politics.
Mr. Sidney Wilton having been delightful, thought it ne- cessary to observe that he feared Lady Montfort had been bored. "I have been, and am, extremely amused," she ro- l)lied, ''and now tell me, who is that young man at the very end of the table ? "
"•That is my private secretary, Mr. Ferrars."
' ' Ferrars f "
" A brother of Lady Roehampton."
" Present him to me after dinner."
Endymion knew Lady Montfort by sight, though she did not know him. He had seen her more than once at the recep- tions of Mrs. Neuchatel, where, as indeed in every place, she was the cynosure. He was much astonished at meeting her at this party to-day— almost as surprised as the duchess dowager, for Endymion, who was of an observant nature, was beginning to comprehend society and all its numerous elements, and
224
FXDYMIOX
schools, niid slmdos, tind classes. "When they entered tho ealoon, ^Ir. Wilton led Endyniion np to Lady Montfort at once, and she immediately inquired after his sister. "Do you think," she said, " Lady llocluimjjton would sec me to-morrow if I called on her ? "
"If I were Lady Koehampton, T would," said Endymion.
Lady Montfort looked at him with a glance of curious scia- tiny ; not smiling;, and yet not disi)leased. "I will write her a little note in the morning-,"' said Lady Montfort thought- fully. "One may leave cards forever. Mr. Wilton tells mo you are quite his right hand."
" ^Ir. Wilton is too kind to me," said Endymion. " Ono could not be excused for not doing one's best for such ii master."
" You like pcoi)lc to be kind to you ?" said Lady Montfort.
" AVell, I have not met with so much kindness in this world ns to have become insensible to it."
"You are too young to bo melancholy," said Lady Mont- fort ; " arc you older than Lady Roehampton ?"
"We arc twins."
"Twins! and wonderfully like too! Is it not thought so?"
"I have sometimes heard it mentioned."
"Oh, it is striking!" said Lady Montfort, and she mo- tioned to him to sit down by her ; and then she began to talk politics, and asked hira what the members thought at dinner of the prospects of the government, and what ho had heard of the malcontent movement that they said was i}i petto. En- dymion replied that Mr. Sharpset, the Secretary of the Treas- ury, did not think much of it.
" W^ell, I wish I did not," said Lady Montfort. " However, I will soon find out something about it. I have only just come to town ; but I intend to open my house immediately. Now I must go. VTliat are you going to do with yourself to- morrow ? I wish you would come and dine with Lord Mont- fort. It will be quite without form, a few agreeable and amus- ing people ; Lord Montfort must be amused. It seems a rea- sonable fancy, but very difficult to realize ; and now you shall
'ii.
cred the lit fort at "Do you )-inoiTow
lymion. ous SClil- writc her thouglit- i tells mo
. *' Olio ir such !i
Montfort. :liis world
dy Mont-
tliouglit
slio mo- 111 to talk it dinuer
heard of Ho. En-
le Treas-
l^lowever, )nly just [ediately. irself to- I'd Mont- id amus- is a rea- L shall
.97'. BARBl-rs JiI-:TURX
225
I \
n.«1v for my carriage, and to-morrow I liope to be altlo to tell Lady liocliamiitoii wliat very great pleasure I have had in mak- ing the acpiaintaiice of her brother.''
CIIAPTEi: LI.
J If
Tim morning after, Eiulyinion was tincrgiiig from tho court yard of the Albany, in order to call on Mr. liodncy. who, as lie learned from a ca.<ual remark in a letter from WaMcr- share, would be in town. The ladies were left beliiml for tho last week of hunting, l)ut business called Mr. Rodney homo. AValder.sliarc wrote to Endymion in the highest spirits, and more than once declared that he was the hapjiiest of men. Just as Endymion had entered Piccadilly, he was stopped by a once familiar face ; it was St. Barl)e, Avho accosted him with great warmth, and as usnal began to talk about himself. '* You are surprised to see me," he said. "It is two years since wo met. Well, I have done wonders ; carried all before me. By Jove, sir, I can Avalk into a minister's private room with as much case as if I Avere entering the old den. The ambassadors are hand and glove with me. There are very few things I do not know. I have made the fortune of the ' Cluick Farthing,* trebled its circulation, and inventct^ a new style, which has put me at the head of all '\.ur own correspondents.' I wish you were at Paris ; I would give you a dinner at the Roclier, which would make up for all our dinners at that ferocious ruHian, Joe's. I gave a dinner tho other day to forty of them, all *our own correspondents,' or such like. Do you know, my dear fellow, when I looked round the room, there was not a man who had not done his best to crush me ; running down my works or not noticing them, or continually dilating on Clushy, as if tho English public would never read anything else. Xow, that was Christian-like of me, was not it ? God, sir, if they only had but one neck, and I had been the Emperor Xero — Init, I will not dwell on it ; I hate them. However, it suits me to take the other line at present. I am all for fraternity and that
22G
EXDYMION.
\: :lif
I . I i il
III. I
sort of thing, and give tlicm dinners. There is a i jason why, hut there is no time to talk about that now. I shall want their su'eet voices — the hounds ! But, my dear fellow, I am truly glad to see you. Do you know, I always liked you ; and how come you to be in this quarter this fine morning ? "
*'I live in the Albany," said Endymion.
''You live in the Albany!" rcjieated St. Barbo, with an amazed and perturbed expression. '"'I knew I could not be a knight of the garter, or a member of White's — the only two things an Englishman can not command ; but I did think I might some day live in the Albany. It was my dream. And you live there ! Gracious ! what an unfortunate fellov/ 1 am. I do not see hoAV you can live in the Albany with your salary ; I suppose they have raised you.'"'
''I have left Somerset House," said Endymion, "and am now at the Board of Trade, and am private secretary to Mr. Sidney Wilton."
"Oh! "said St. Barbe ; "then we have friends at court. You may do something for me, if I only knew what I wanted. They have no decorations here. Curse this aristocratic country, they want all the honors to themselves. I should like to be in the Board of Trade, and would make some sacrifice for it. The proprietors of the ' Chuck Farthing ' pay well ; they pay like gentlemen ; though, why I say so I do not exactly know, for no gentleman ever paid me anything. But, if I could be Secretary of the Board of Trade, or get £1,500 a year secure, I would take it ; and I dare say I could get employed on some treaties, as I speak French, and then I might get knighted."
*•' Well, I tliink you are very well off," said Endymion ; "car- rying, as you say, everything before you. What more can you want ? "
"I hate the craft," said St. Barbe, with an expression of genuine detestation ; " I should like to show them all up before I died. I suppose it was your sister marrying a lord that got you on in this way. I could have married a countess myself, but then, to be sure, she was only a Polish one, and hard up. I never had a sister ; I never had any luck in life at all. I wish I had been a woman. Women are the only people who get on.
EXDYMION LEAVES THE EODXEY'S.
227
on "svliy, ant their im truly md how
with an not be u )nly two
think I n. And )v/ 1 am. L' salary ;
and am y to Mr.
it court.
wanted, country,
to be in 0 for it. they pay ly know, could be secure, I
on some rhted." n ; '*car- ! can you
ession of up before that got 3 myself, liard up. . I wish 0 get on.
A man works all his life, and thinks he lias done a wonderful thing if, with one leg in the grave and no hair on his head, ho manages to get a coronet ; and a woman dances at a hall with some young fellow or other, or sits next to some old fellow at dinner and pretends she thinks him charming, and he makes her a peeress on the spot. Oh ! it is a disgusting world ; it must end in revolution. Now you tell your master, Mr. Sid- ney Wilton, that if he wants to strengthen the institutions of this country, the government should establish an order of merit, and the press ought to be represented in it. I do not speak only for myself ; I speak for my brethren. Yes, sir, I am not ashamed of my order."
And so they bade each other farewell.
'' Unchanged," thought Endymion, as he crossed Piccadilly. **The vainest, the most envious, and the most amusing of men! I wonder what he will do in life."
Mr. Rodney was at home, had just finished his breakfast, read his newspaper, and was about to ''go into the City." His costume was perfect. Mr. Rodney's hat seemed always a new one. Endymion was a little embarrassed by this interview, for he had naturally a kind heart, and being young, it was still soft. The Rodneys had been truly good to him, and he was attached to them. Imogene had prepared Mr. Rodney for the change in Endymion's life, and Endymion himself had every reason to be- lieve that in a worldly point of view the matter was entirely in- significant to his old landlord. Still his visit this morning ratified a permanent separation from those with whom he had lived for a long time, and under circumstances of sympathy and family connection which were touching. He retained Mr. Rod- ney's hand for a moment as he expressed, and almost in falter- ing tones, his sorrow at their separation and his hope that their friendly connection might be always cherished.
" That feeling is reciprocal," said Mr. Rodney. **If only because you were the son of my revered and right honorable friend, you would always be esteemed here. But you are es- teemed, or, I may say beloved, for your own sake. We shall be proud to be considered with kindness by you, and I echo your wish that, though no longer living under the same roof, we
228
EXDYMIOX.
li!
may yet, and even often, meet. But do not eay anotlicr word ubout the inconvenience you arc occasioning us. The truth is, that although wherever we went the son of my revered anci riglit lionorablo friend would have always commanded hospitality from us, there are many changes about to take place in our fam- ily which have made us for some time contemplate leaving War- wick Street. Affairs, especially of late, have gone pretty well with me in the world — at least not badly ; I have had friends, and I iiope have proved not undeserving of them. I wish Syl- via, too, to live in an airier situation, near the park, so that she may ride every morning. Besides, I have a piece of news to communicate to you, which Avould materially affect our arrange- ments. AVe are going to lose Imogcnc."
''Ah ! she is going to be married," said Endymion, blush- ing.
" Slic is going to be married," said ]\[r. Rodney, gravely.
*' To Mr. Waldershare ? " said Endymion. "He almost said as much to me in a letter this morning. But I always thought so."
"No ; not to Mr. Waldershare," said Mr. Rodney.
*' Who is the hapjjy man then ? " said Endymion agitated. *'I truly call him so ; for I tliinlv myself that Imogcnc is per- fection."
''Imogcnc is about to be married to the Earl of Beau- maris."
CIIAPTEi: JJI.
SiMOX, Earl of Montfort, with whom Endymion Avas so unexpectedly going to dine, may be said to have been a minor in his cradle. Under ordinary circumstances, his inheritance would have been one of the most considerable in England. His castle in the north was one of the glories of the land, and becomingly crowned his vast domain. Under the old parlia- mentary system, he had the greatest number of nomination boroughs possessed by any Whig noble. The character and conduct of an individual so qualified were naturally much
LORD MO:srFORT.
229
IS per- Bcau-
\
speculated on and finely scanned. N'otliing very decided tran- spired about them in liis boyhood, but certainly nothing ad- verse, lie was good-looking and athletic, and was said to bo generous and good-natured, and when he went to Harrow, lie became popular. In his eighteenth year, while he was in cor- respondence with his guardians about going to Christchurch, he suddenly left his country without giving any one notice of his intentions, and entered into, and fulfilled, a vast scheme of adventurous travel, lie visited countries then rarely reached, and some of which were almost unknown. Ilis fiag had fioated in the Indian ocean, and he had penetrated the dazzling mys- teries of Brazilian forests. Wlien ho was of age, ho returned, and communicat/d with his guardians, as if nothing remark- able had happened in his life. Lord Montfort had inherited a celebrated stud, which the family had maintained for more than a century, and the sporting world remarked Avitli satisfac- tion that their present representative appeared to take much interest in it. He had an establishment at Newmarket, and his horses were entered for all the great races of the kingdom. He appeared also at Melton, and conducted i\\o. campaign in a stvle becoming such a hero. His hunters and his cooks were both first-rate. Although he affected to take little interest in politics, the events of the time forced him to consider them and to act. Lord Grey wanted to carry his Reform Bill, and the sacrifice of Lord ]\Iontfort's numerous boroughs was a necessary ingredient in the spell. He was appealed to as the head of one of the greatest Whig houses, and he was offered a dukedom. He relinquished his boroughs without hesitation, but he preferred to remain with one of the oldest earldoms of England for his chief title. All honors, however, clustered about him, though he never sought them, and in the same year he tumbled into the Lord Lieutenancy of his county, un- expectedly vacant, and became the youngest Knight of the Garter.
Society was looking forward with the keenest interest to the impending season, when Lord Montfort would formally enter its spellbound ranks, and multiform were the specula- tions on his destiny. He attended an early levee, in order
230
EXDYMTON.
w
I ill
i i i I
!•!
tliat he might l)c proscntcd — a needful ceremony whicli had not yet taken place — and then again quitted his country, and for years. lie Avas heard of in every capital except his own. Wonderful exploits at St. Petersburg, and Paris, and ^ladrid, deeds of mark u,t Vienna, and eccentric adventures at Rome ; but poor Melton, alas ! expecting him to return every season, at last embalmed him, and his cooks, and his hunters, and his daring saddle, as a tradition — jealous a little of Newmarket, whither, though absent, he was frequently transmitting for- eign blood, and where his horses still ran, and were often victorious.
At last it would appear that the restless Lord Montfort had found hi£' place, and that place was Paris. There he dwelt for years in Sybaritic seclusion. He built himself a palacO; whicli he called a villa, and which was the most fanciful of structures, and full of every beautiful object whicli rare taste and bound- less wealth could procure, from undoubted Raffaelles to jeweled toys. It was said that Lord Montfort saw no one ; he certainly did not court or receive his own countrymen, and this perhaps gave rise to, or at least caused to be exaggerated, the tales that were rife of his profusion, and even his profligacy. But it was not true that he was entirely isolated. He lived much with the old families of France in their haughty faubourg, and was highly considered by them. It was truly a circle for which he was adapted. Lord Montfort was the only living Englishman who gave one an idea of the nobleman of the eighteenth century. He was totally devoid of the sense of responsibility, and he looked what he resembled. His manner, though simple and natural, was finished and refined, and, free from forbidding reserve, was yet characterized by an air of serious grace.
With the exception of the meraorable year when he sacri- ficed his nomination boroughs to the cause for which Hampden died on the field and Sidney on the scaffold — that is to say, the Whig government of England, Lord Montfort had been absent from his country for ten years, and one day, in his statued gar- den at the Belvedere, he asked himself what he had gained by it ? There was no subject divine or liuman in which he took the slightest interest. He entertained for human nature gen-
which had Lin try, and t liis own. id Madrid, at Rome ; 3ry season, rs, and his ewmarket, itting for- «\'ere often
ntfort had 3 dwelt for ace, which structures, lid bound- to jeweled D certainly lis perhaps ! tales that But it was li with the kvas highly oil he was !iman who 1 century. ;y, and he imj^le and forbidding ice.
L he sacri- Hampden to say, the ceil absent atued gar- gained by h he took ature gen-
RCIENCE AXD FISIIIXG.
231
crally, and without any exception, the most cyr 'cal appreciation. He had a sincere and profound conviction, that no man or wo- man ever acted except from selfish and interested motives. Society v;as intolerable to him ; that of his own sex and sta- tion wearisome beyond expression ; tlieir conversation consisted only of two subjects, horses and women, and ho had long ex- hausted both. As for female society, if they were ladies, it was expected that, in some form or other, he should make love to them, and he had no sentiment. If he took refuge in the demi-monde, he encountered vulgarity, and that, to Lord Mont- fort, Avas insufferable. Ho had tried tiicni in every capital, and vulgarity was the badge of all tlieir tribe. He had attempted to read ; a woman had told him to read French novels, but he found them only a clumsy representation of the life which, for years, he had practically been leading. An accident made him acquainted with Rabelais and Montaigne ; and he had relished them, for he had a fine sense of humor. He might have pur- sued these studies, and perhaps have found in them a slight and occasional distraction, but a clever man he met at a guin- gette at Passy, where ii? had gone to try to dissipate his weari- ness in disguise, had convinced him, that if there were a worthy human pursuit, an assumption which was doubtful, it was that of science, as it impressed upon man his utter insignificance.
No one could say Lord Montfort was a bad-hearted man, for he had no heart. He was good-natured, provided it brought him no inconvenience ; and as for temper, his was never dis- turbed, but this not from sAveetness of disposition, rather from a contemptuous fine taste, which assured him that a gentleman should never be deprived of tranquillity in a world where no- thing was of the slightest consequence.
The result of these reflections was, that ho was utterly wearied with Belvedere and Paris, and as his mind was now rather upon science, he fancied he should like to return to a country where it flourished, and where he indulged in plans of erecting colossal telescopes, and of promoting inquiry into the origin of things. He thought that with science and with fish- ing, the only sport to which he still really clung, for he liked the lulling influence of running streams, and a pastime he
! i
>! ■ II
232
ENDYMIOX.
coiiUl pur.^uc in loiiclincs?, existence miglit pcrliaps be en- dured.
Society was really surprised when they heard of llie return of Lord Montfort to England. He came back in the autumn, so that there should bo no season to encounter, and his ihig was soon flying at his castle. There had been continuous attacks for years on the government for having made an absentee lord lieutenant of his county, and conferring the high distinction o" Luo garter on so profligate a character. All this made his ro- bin\ more interesting and exciting.
A worthy nobleman of liigli rank and of the same county, who, for the last five years everybody, shaking everybody's head, had been saying ought to have been lord lieutenant, had a great county function in his immediate neighborhood in the late au- tumn, and had invited a large party to assist him in its celebra- tion. It seemed right also to invito the lord lieutenant, but no one expected that he would make his appearance. On the con- trary, the invitation was accepted, and the sensation was great. What would he be like, and what would he do, and was he so very wicked as the county newspaper said ? He came, this wicked man, with his graceful presence and his diamond star, ,and everybody's heart palpitated with a due mixture of terror and admiration. The only exception to these feelings was the daughter of the house, the Lady Berengaria. She was then in her second season, but still unparagoned, for she was a fastidious, not to say disdainful lady. The highest had been at her feet, and sued in vain. She. was a stirring spirit, with great ambi- tion and a daring will ; never content except in society, and in- fluencing it — for which she was qualified by her grace and lively fancy, her ready though capricious sympathy, and her passion for admiration.
The function was successful, and the county full of en- thusiasm for their lord lieutenant, whose manner quite cleared his character. The party did not break up, in fact the func- tion was only an excuse for the party. There was sport of all kinds, and in the evenings a carnival — ^for Lady Berengaria re- quired everybody about her to be gay and diverting — games and dances, and infinite frolic. Lord Montfort, who, to the surprise
II
LADY BEREXGARIA.
233
ps be cn-
Iic return ; autumn, s \\A[f was IS attacks 3iitce lord istinction ,cle his re-
e county, ly's head, id a OTcat c late au- s cclebra- it, but no
I the con- Yas great, ■was he so ime, this end star, of terror s was the s then in istidious, her feet, ?at ambi- '■, and in- md lively r passion
II of en- e cleared ;he func- )rt of all igaria re- imes and ! surprise
of every one, did not depart, spoke to her a little, and perhaps Avould not have spoken at all, had they not met in the hunting- field. Lady Berengaria was a first-rate horsewoman, and really in the saddle looked irresistible.
The night before the party, which had lasted a week, broke up. Lord Montfort came and sat by Lady Berengaria. lie spoke about the run of the morning, and she replied in the same vein. ** I have got a horse, Lady Berengaria, which I should like you to ride. Would you do so ? "'
" Certainly, and what sort of horse is it ?"
'' You shall sec to-morrow. It is not far off. I like to have some horses always near," and then he walked away.
It was a dark chestnut of matchless beauty. Lady Beren- garia, who was of an emphatic nature, was loud in her admira- tion of its beauty and its hunting qualities.
'' I agree with you," said Lord Montfort, '" that it will spoil you for any other horse, and, therefore, I shall asl: permission to leave it here for your use."
The party broke uj), but, strange to say. Lord Montfort did not depart. It was a large family. Lady Berengaria had sev- eral sisters ; her eldest brother was master of the hounds, and her younger brothers were asserting their rights as cadets, and , killing their father's pheasants. There was also a number of • cousins, who were about the sanjc age, and were always laugh- ing, though it was never quite clear what it was about. An affectation of ga3'ety may be sometimes detected in youth.
As Lord Montfort always had the duty of ushering the lady of the house to dinner, he never had the opportunity of conversing with Lady Berengaria, even had he wished it ; but it was not at all clear that he did wish it, and it seemed that he talked as much to her sisters and the laughing cousins as to herself, but still he did not go away, which was most strange, and commenced to be embarrassing.
At last one evening, both her parents slumbering, one over the newspaper and the other over her work, and the rest of the party in a distant room playing at some new game amid occa- sional peals of laughter. Lord Montfort, who had been sitting for some time by Lady Berengaria's side, and only asking now
'Hi
ll ^ I
I :!
!: i
llLiii
23 i
EXD YMIOy.
and then a question, thougli often a searcliing one, in order to secure her talking to him, rather abruptly said, "I wonder if anything would ever induce you to marry me ? "
This Avas the most startling social event of the generation. Society immediately set a-wondering how it would turn out, and proved very clearly that it must turn out badly. Men who knew Montfort well at Paris looked knowing, and said they would give it six months.
But the lady was as remarkable as a woman as the bride- groom was in his sex. Lady Berengaria was determined to be the Queen of Society, and had confidence in her unlimited influence over man. It is, however, rather difficult to work on the feelings of a man Avho has no heart. This she soon found out, and to her dismay, but she kept it a profound secret. By endless ingenuity on her part affuivs went on very well much longer than the world expected, and long enough to fulfill the object of Lady Berengaria's life. Lord Montfort launched his wife well, and seemed even content to be occasionally her com- panion until she had mounted the social throne. He was proud of her as he would be of one of his beautiful horses ; but when all the world had acknowledged the influence of Berengaria, he fell into one of his old moods, and broke to her that he could bear it no longer, and that he must retire from society. Lady Montfort looked distressed, but, resolved under no circum- stances to be separated from her husband, whom she greatly admired, and to whom, had he wished it, she could have be- come even passionately f^ttached, signified her readiness to share his solitude. But she then found out that this was not what he wanted. It was not only retirement from society, but re- tirement from Lady Montfort that was indispensable. In short, at no time of his perverse career had Lord Montfort been more willful.
During the last years of his residence in Paris, when he was shut up in his delicious Belvidere, he had complained much of the state of his health, and one of his principal pursuits was consulting the faculty on this interesting subject. The faculty were unanimous in their opinion that the disorder from which their patient was suffering was Ennui. This persistent opinion
j
IS
IN TE REST AND AME.sEMENT.
235
1 order to wonder if
enoration.
turn out.
Men who
said they
;hc bride- ncd to be unlimited 3 work on )on found 3ret. By 'ell much fulfill the ticlicd his her com- mas proud but when igaria, ho he could , Lady circum- greatly have be- to share lot what but re- 5le. In ^lontfort
n he was much of uits was ) faculty n which opinion
irritated him, and was one of the elements of his decision to leave the countr^'. The unexpected distraction that followed his return to his native land had made him neglect or forget his sad indisposition, but it appears that it liad now returned, and in an aggravated form. Unhappily the English physicians took much the same view of the case as their French brethren. They could find nothing organically wrong in tlie constitution or condition of Lord Montfort, and recommended occupation and society. At present he shrunk with some disgust at the prospect of returning to France, and he had taken it into his head that the climate of Montfort did not agree with him. lie was convinced that he must live in the south of England. One of the most beautiful and considerable estates in that favored part of our country was virtually in the m irket, and Lord Mont- fort, at the cost of half a million, bocan.c the proprietor of Prince- down. And hero he announced that he should dwell and die. This state of affairs was a bitter trial to the proudest woman in England, but Lady Montfort was also one of the most able. She resisted nothing, sympathized with all his projects, and watched her oppoj unity when she could extract from his un- conscious good-nature some reasonable modification of them. And she ultimately succeeded in establishing a modus vivendi. He was to live and die at Princedown ; that was settled ; but if he ever came to town, to consult his physicians for example, he was always to inhabit Montfort House, and if she occasion- ally required a whiff of southern air, she was to have her rooms always ready for her at Princedown. She would not interfere with him in the least ; he need not even see her, if he were too unwell. Then as to the general principle of his life, it was quite clear that he was not interested in anything, and never would be interested in anything ; but there was no reason that he should not be amused. This distinction between interest and amusement rather pleased and seemed to satisfy Lord Montfort — but then it Avas difficult to amuse him. The only thing that ever amused him, he said, were his wife's letters, and as he was the most selfish, as well as the most polite of men, he requested her to write to him every day. Great personages, who are selfish and whimsical, are generally surrounded by
23C
EXDY"^OK
li!
:! iii
liara.^itcs and buffoon.-, but this would not suit Lord Monti'uit ; lie sincerely detested Jattery, and lie wearied in ciglit-and- forty hours of the most successful mountebank in society. AVliat ho seemed inclined to Avas the society of men of science, of travelers in rare parts, and of clever artists, in short of all persons who had what ho called *' idiosyncrasy." Civil engi- neering was then beginning to attract general attention, and Lord Montfort liked the society of civil engineers ; but Avliat lie liked most were self-formed men, and to learn the secret of their success, and how they made their fortune. After the ilrst fit of Princcdown was over. Lord Montfort found that it was imi)ossible, even with all its fascination, to secure a con- stant, or sufficient, presence of civil engineers in such distant parts, and so he got into the habit of coming up to Montfort House, that he might find companions and be amused. Lady Montfort took great i)ains that he should not be disappointed, and catered for him with all the skill of an accomplished clicf. Then, when the occasiuii served, she went doAvn to Princcdown liersclf with Avelcome guests — and so it turned out, that circum- stances, which treated by an ordinary mind must have led to a isocial scandal, were so adroitly manipulated, that the world little apprehended the real and somewhat mortifying state of .affairs. With the utmost license of ill-nature, they could not suppose that Lord and Lady Montfort, living under the same roof, might scarcely see each other for weeks, and that his communications with her, and indeed generally, were alwa3's made in writing.
Lady Montfort never could agree with her husband in the cardinal assumption of his philosophy. One of his reasons for never doing anything, was that there was nothing for him to attain. He had got everything. Here they at once separated in their conclusions. Lady Montfort maintained they had got nothing. "What," she would say, ''are rank and wealth to us ? We were born to them. We want something that wo were not born to. You reason like a parvenu. Of course, if you had created your rank and your riches you might rest on your oars, and find excitement in the recollection of what you bad achieved. A man of your position ought to govern the
A WOXDERFUL MYSTIFICATIOX.
237
lontfort ; i^lit-tuul- 1 t«ocic'ty. E science, ort of nil ivil ciifri- tioii, and Ijnt wliat ! secret of \fter the id tluit it irc Ji con- h distant Montfort d. Lady ppointcd, lied cliff. incedowu t circum- 3 led to ii lie Avorld % state of ould not the same that his e ahva}-s
id in the isons for r him to eparatcd hey had d wealth that Avo iourse, if ; rest on vhat you vern the
country, and it always was so in old days. Your family were prime ministers ; why not you, with as much talent, and much more knowledge ? "
''You would make a very good prime minister, Beren- garia."
"Ah ! you always jest. I am serious."
" And so am I. If I ever am to work, I would sooner be a civil engineer than a prime minister."
Nothing but the indomitable spirit of Lady Montfort could fight successfully against such obstacles to her schemes of l)ower as Avcre presented by the peculiar disposition of her lord. Ile^' receptions every Saturday night during the season were the most important of social gatherings, but she held them alone. It was by consummate skill that she had prevailed upon her lord occasionally appearing at their preceding banquets, and when they were over, he flitted for an instant and disappeared. At first, he altogether refused, but then Lady Montfort Avould induce Royalty, always kind, to condescend to express a wish to dine at Montfort House, and that was a gracious intimation it was imjiossible not to act upon, and then, as Lady Montfort would say, " I trust much to the periodical visit ^ of that dear Queen of Mesopotamia, lie must entertain her, for his father was her lover. "
In this wonderful mystification, by which Lord Montfort was made to appear as living in a society which he scarcely ever entered, his wife was a little assisted by his visits to New- market, which he even frequently attended. lie ncv?r made a bet or a new acquaintance, but he seemed to like meeting men with whom he had been at school. There is certainly a magic in the memory of school-boy friendships ; it softens the heart, and even affects the nervous system of those who have no hearts. Lord Montfort at Newmarket would ask half a dozen men who had been at school with him, and were now members of the Jockey Club, to be his guests, and the next day all over the heath, and after the heath, all over May Fair and Belgravia, you heard only one spcecli, " I dined yesterday," or "the other day," as the case might be, "with Montfort ; out and out the best dinner I ever had, and such an agreeable fel-
238
ENDYMIOy.
low ; the wittiest, tiie most iimuding, certainly the most charm- ing fellow that ever lived ; out and out ! It is a pity he docs uot show a little more."' And society thought the same; they thought it a pity, and a great one, that this fascinating being of whom they rarely caught a glimpse, and who to them took the form of a wasted and unsympathizing phantom, should not show a little more and delight them. But the most curious thing was, that however rapturous were his guests, the feelings of their host after they had left him were by no means reciprocal. On the contrary, he would remark to himself, *' Have I heard a single thing worth remembering ? Not
one.
5>
CHAPTER LIII.
ii!
I
il
Endymion was ^ little agitated when he arrived at the door of Montfort ' e, a huge family mansion, situate in a court-yard and looKnig into the Green Park. When the door was opened lie found himself in a large hall with many ser- vants, and he Avas ushered through several rooms on the ground floor, into a capacious chamber dimly lighted, where there were several gentlemen, but not his hostess. His name was announced, and then a young man came up to him and men- tioned that Lord and Lady Montfort would soon be present, and then talked to him about the weather. The Count of Ferroll arrived after Endymion, and then another gentleman whose name he could not catch. Then while he was making some original observations on the east wind, and, to confess the truth, feeling anything but at his ease, tli ) folding doors of a further chamber brilliantly lighted were thrown open, and almost at the same moment Lady Montfort entered, and, tak- ing the Count of Ferroll's arm, walked into the dining-room. It w\as a round table, and Endymion was told by the same gen- tleman who had already addressed him, that he was to sit by Lady Montfort.
'*Lord Montfort is a little late to-day," she said, ''but he wished me not to wait for him. And how are you after our
} «
7 HE COUNT OF FKllROLL.
23U
st cliarm- y lie tlocs ho same ; iscinating ) to them pliantom,
the most ucsts, tlio no means
liimself, ig? Not
ii
;cl at tlie late in a the door nany ser- e ground ^re there ame was nd men- present, ^ount of ntleman making nfess tlie lors of a )en, and md, tak- ig-room. ime gen- ;o sit by
but he iter our
\
i'
I
parliamentary banquet ?"' slie said, turning to Endymion ; will introduce you to the Count of Ferroll.''
The Count of Ferroll was a young man, and yet inclined to bo bald. He was chief of a not iiicon.sidcrablc mission at our court. Though not to be described as a handsome man, his countenance was striking ; a broAV of much intellectual devel- opment, and a massive jaw. II • was tall, broad-shouldered, with a slender waist. lie greeted Endymion with a penetrat- ing glance, and then with a winning smile.
The Count of Ferroll was the representative of a kingdom which, if not exactly created, had been molded into a certain form of apparent strength and importance by the Congress of Vienna. lie was a noble of considerable estate in a country where possessions were not extensive or fortunes large, though it was ruled by an ancient, and haughty, and warlike aristoc- racy. Like his class, the Count of Ferroll had received a military education ; but when that education was completed, he found but a feeble prospect of his acquirements being called into action. It was believed that the age of great wars had ceased, and that even revolutions were for the future to be con- trolled by diplomacy. As he was a man of an original, not to say eccentric, turn of mind, the Count of Ferroll was not con- tented with the resources and distraction of his second-rate capital. He was an eminent sportsman, and, for some time, took refuge and found excitement in the breadth of his dark forests, and in the formation of a stud, which had already be- come celebrated. But all this time, even in the excitement of the chase, and in the raising of his rare bred steeds, the Count of Ferroll might be said to have been brooding over the posi- tion of what he could scarcely call his country, but rather an aggregation of lands baptized by protocols, and christened and consolidated by treaties wlilch he looked upon as eminently untrustworthy. One day ho surprised his sovereign, with whom he was a favorite, ^^y requesting to be appointed to the legation at London, which was vacant. The appointment was at once made, and the Count of Ferroll had now been two years at the Court of St. James'.
The Count of Ferroll was a favorite in English society, for
240
EXDYMI02T.
lie possessed every quality wliicli there conduces to success. He was of great family and of distinguished appearance, muni- ficent and singularly frank ; was a dead-shot, and the boldest of riders, with horses which were the admiration alike of Mel- ton and Newmarket. The ladies also approved of him, for he was a consummate waltzer, and mixed with a badinage gayly cynical a tone that could be tender and a bewitching smile.
But his great friend was Lady Montfort. He told her everything, and consulted her on everything ; and though he rarely praised anybody, it had reached her ears that the Count of Ferroll had said more than onco that she was a greater woman than ^ouise of Savoy or the Duchesse de Longueville.
There was a slight rustling in the room. A gentleman had entered and glided into his unoccupied chair, which his valet had guarded. ''I fear I am not in time for an oyster," said Lord Montfort to his neighbor.
The gentleman who had first spoken to Endymion was the secretary of Lord Montfort ; then there was a great genius who was projecting a suspension bridge over the Tyne, and that was in Lord Montfort's country. A distinguished officer of the British Museum completed the party with a person who sat opposite Endymion, and whom in the dim twilight he had not recognized, but whom ho now beheld with no little emotion. It was Nigel Penruddock. They had not met since his moth- er's funeral, and the associations of the past agitated En- dymion. They exchanged recognitions ; that of Nigel was grave but kind.
Tlie conversation Avas what is called general, and a great deal on suspension bridges. Lord Montfort himself led off on this, in order to bring out his distinguished guest. The Count of Ferroll was also interested on this subject, as his own govern- ment Avas maki'.ig inquiries on the matter. The gentleman from the Bricish Museum made seme remarks on the mode in which the ancient Egyptians moved masses of granite, and
quoted Herodotus to the civil
engineer.
The civil engineer
had never heard of Herodotus, but he said he Avas going to Egypt in the autumn by desire of Mehemet Ali, and he would undertake to moAC any mass Avhich Avas requisite, CA'en if it
9 10
EXDYMIoy AXD LORD MOXTFORT.
241
to success, nco, muiii- ;he boldest ke of Mel- i.im, for he Qage gayly I smile. Q told lier though he the Count 3 a greater ngueville. tleman had ill his valet yster," said
ion was the genius who lid that was icer of the 3n who sat he had not e emotion, his moth- itated En- !l was grave
find a great f led off on The Count wn govern- gentleman he mode in 'anite, and il engineer as going to d he would even if it
were a pyramid itself. Lady Montfort, without disturbing the general conversation, whispered in turns to the Count of Fer- roU and Endymion, and told the latter that she had paid a visit to Lady lloeliumpton in the morning — a most delightful visit. There was no person she admired so much as his sister ; she quite loved her. Tho only person who was silent was Ni- gel, but Lady Montfort, who perceived everything, addressed him across the table with enthusiasm about some changes ho had made in the services of some church, and the countcnauco of Nigel became suffused like a young saint who has a glimi)so of i)aradiae.
After dinner Lady Montfort led Endymion to her lord, and left him seated by his host ; Lord Montfort was affable and nat- ural in his manner. He said, ''I liave not yet made the ac- quaintance of Lady Roehampton, for I never go out ; but I hope to do so, for Lady Montfort tells me she is quite capti-
J5
vating.
*' She is a very good sister," said Endymion.
" Lady Montfort has told me a great deal about yourself, and all of it I was glad to hear. I like young men who rise by their merits, and Mr. Sidney Wilton tells Lady Montfort that yours are distinguished."
'' Mr. Sidney Wilton is a kind master, sir."
'' Well, I was his fag at Harrow, and I thought him so," said Lord Montfort. "And noAv about your office ; tell mo what you do. You were not there first. Lady Montfort says. Where were you first ? Tell me all about it. I like detail."
It was impossible to resist such polislicd and amiable curi- osity, and Endymion gratified it with youthful grace. He even gave Lord Montfort a sketch of St. Barbe, inspired probably by the interview of the morning. Lord Montfort was quite amused with this, and said he should so much like to know Mr. St. Barbc. It was clear, when the party broke up, that Endymion had made a favorable impression, for Lord Montfort said, "You came here to-day as Lady Montfort's friend, but you must come in future as mine also. And will you under- stand, I dine at home every day when I am in town, and I give you a general invitation. Come as often as you like ; you will U
2tt2
FXBYMIOy.
be always welcome. Only let the house know your intention an hour before dinner-time, as I have a particular aversion to the table being crowded, or seeing an empty chair."
Lady Montfort had passed much of the evening in earnest conversation with Nigel, and when the guests quitted the room, Nigel and Endymion walked away together.
CHAPTER LIV.
The meeting between Nigel and Endymion was not an or- dinary one, and when they were at length alone, neither of them concealed his feelings of pleasure and surprise at its oc- currence. Nigel had been a curate in the northern town which was defended by Lord Montfort's proud castle, and his labors and reputation had attracted the attention of Lady Montfort. Under the influence of his powerful character, the services of his church were celebrated with a precision and an imposing effect, which soon occasioned a considerable excitement in the neighborhood, in time even in the county. The pulpit was frequently at his command, for his rector, who had imbibed his Church views, was not equal to the task of propagating them, and the power and fame of Nigel as a preacher began to be much rumored. Although the church at which he officiated was not the one which Lady Montfort usually attended, she was soon among his- congregation and remained there. lie became a constant guest at the castle, and Lady Montfort pre- sented his church with a reredos of alabaster. She did more than this. Her enthusiasm exceeded her selfishness, for though the sacrifice was great which would deprive her of the minis- trations and society of Nigel in the country, she prevailed upon the prime minister to prefer him to a new church in Lon- don, which had just fallen vacant, and which being situated in a wealthy and populous district would afford him the oppor- tunity of making known to the world his eloquence and genius. This was Nigel's simple, yet not uneventful history ; and then, in turn, he listened to Endymion's brief but interesting narra-
•
ENDYMIO]^ AND NIGEL.
243
Lir intention • aversion to
ig in earnest quitted the
IS not an or- ), neither of ise at its oc- town which id his labors J Montfort. e services of m imposing ment in the pulpit was lad imbibed propagating ler began to
|
lie oJBficiated |
1 |
|
^tended, she |
|
|
there. He |
|
|
ontfort pre- |
|
|
e did more |
|
|
, for though |
|
|
f the minis- |
• |
|
le prevailed |
|
|
ircli in Lon- |
I |
|
• situated in |
|
|
the oppor- |
u |
|
and genius. |
|
|
; and then, |
,'> |
|
sting narra- |
tive of his career, and then they agreed ^o adjourn to Endym- ion's chambers and have a good talk over the past and the present.
'' That Lady Montfort is a great woman," said Nigel, stand- inc: with his back to the fire. *'She has it in her to bo an- other Empress Helena."
'indeed!"
*'I believe she has only one thought, and that the only thought worthy the human mind — the Cliurch. I was glad to meet you at her house. You have cherished, I hope, those views, which in your boyhood you so fervently and seriously embraced. "
" I am rather surprised," said Endymion, not caring to answer this inquiry, ''at a Whig lady entertaining such liigh views in these matters. The Liberal party rather depends on the Low Church."
" I know nothing about "Whigs or Tories or Liberals, or any other new names which they invent," said Nigel. ''Nor do I know, or care to know, what Low Church means. There is but one Church, and it is catliolic and apostolic ; and if we act on its principles, there will be no need, and there ought to be no need, for any other form of government. "
"Well, those are very distinct views," said Endymion, "but are they as practical as they are clear ? "
"Why should they not be practical ? Everything is prac- tical which we believe ; and in the long run, which is most likely that we should believe, what is taught by God, or what is taught by man ? "
"I confess," said Endymion, '-that in all matters, both civil and religious, I incline to what is moderate and temjier- ate. I always trace my dear father's sad end, and all the terri- ble events in my family, to his adopting in 1839 the views of the extreme party. If he had only followed the example and the advice of his best friend, Mr. Sidney Wilton, what a differ- ent state of affairs might liave occurred I "
"I know nothing about politics," said Nigel. "By being moderate and temperate in politics I suppose you mean lacing adroit, and doing that Avhich is expedient and which will proba-
m
244
EXDYMIOK
bly be successful. But the Church is founded on absolute truth, and teaches absolute truth, and there can be no com- promise on such matters."
"Well, I do not know," ^^aid Endymion, ''but surely there are many very religious people, who do not accept without reserve everything that is taught by the Church. I hope I am a religious pcF^on myself, and yet, for examj)le, I can not give an unreserved assent to the whole of the Athanasian Creed."
" The Athanasian Creed is the most splendid ecclesiastical lyric ever poured forth by tlie genius of man. I give to every clause of it an implicit assent. It does not pretend to be divine ; it is human, but the Church has hallowed it, and tho Church ever acts under the influence of the Divine Spirit. St. Athanasius was by far the greatest man that ever existed. If you cavil at his creed, you Avill soon cavil at other symbols. I was prepared for infidelity in London, but I confess, my dear Ferrars, you alarm me. I Avas in hopes that your early educa- tion would have saved you from this backsliding."
" But let us be calm, my dear Nigel. Do you mean to say,, that I am to be considered an infidel or an apostate because, although I fervently embrace all the vital truths of religion, and tr}^ on the whole, to regulate my life by them, I may have scruples about believing, for example, in the personality of the Devil?"
" If the personality of Satan be not a vital i^rinciplcof your religion, I do not know w^hat is. There is only one dogma higher. You think it is safe, and I dare say it is fashionable, to fall into this lax and really thoughtless discrimination be- tween Avhat is and Avhat is not to be believed. It is not good tasto to belicA-e in the Devil. Give mo a single argument against his personality which is not applicable to the personal- ity of the Deity. Will you give that up ; and if so, where are you ? Now mark me ; you and I are young men — you are a very young man. This is the year of grace 1839. If these loose thoughts, which you have heedlessly taken up, prevail in this country for a generation or so — five and twenty or thirty years — we may meet together again, and I shall have to con- vince you that there is a God."
SOCIETY AND POLITICS.
245
absolute ) no coni-
rely tliero without lope I am 1 not give
)reed." lesiastical 3 to every nd to be \, and the )irit. St. isted. If nbols. I
my dear ly educa-
m to say,
because,
religion,
may have
ity of the
eof your e dogma liionable, ation be- not good irgument personal- v^liere arc ^ou are a If these trevail in or thirty D to con-
*1
!
CIIAPTEIl LV.
The balance of parties in 11 ic IIou.se of Commons, which had been virtually restored by Sir Robert Peel's dissolution of 1834-, might be said to be formally and positively established by the dissolution of Parliament in the autumn of 1837, occa- sioned by the demise of the crown. The ministerial majority became almost nominal, while trouljles from all quarters seemed to press simultaneously upon them : Canadian revolts, Chartist insurrections, Chinese squabbles, and mysterious complications in Central Asia, which threatened immediate hostilities with Persia, and even with one of the most powerful of European empires. In addition to all this, the revenue continually de- clined, and every day the general })rcjudico become more in- tense against the Irish policy of the ministry. The extreme popularity of the Sovereign, reflecting some luster on her min- isters, had enabled them, though not without difficulty, to tide through the session of 1838 ; but when Parliament met in 1830 their prospects were dark, and it was known that there was a section of the extreme Liberals who would not be deeply morti- fied if the government were overthrown. All efforts, therefore, political and social, and particularly the latter in which the Whigs excelled, were to be made to revcnt or to retard the catastrophe.
Lady Montfort and Lady Iiochampton opened their houf:c3 to the general world at an unusually early period. Their en- tertainments rivaled those of Zenobia, who with unflagging gallantry, her radiant face prescient of triumph, stopped her bright vis-a-vis and her tall footmen in the midst of St. James Street or Pall Mall, while she rapidly inquired from some friendly passer-by whom she had observed, "'Tell me Iho names of the Radical members who want to turn out the gox- ernment, and I will invite them directly."
Lady Montfort i\ad appropriated tlie Saturdays, as was her custom and Ivjr right ; so Myra, with the advice of Lord Roe- hampton, had fixed on Wednesdays for her receptions.
"I should have liked to have taken Wednesdays," said Ze-
246
ENDYMIOK
iiobiu, "but I do not care to seem to be setting up against Lady Roehampton, for lier motlier was my dearest friend. Not that I think r.ny quarter ought to be shown to her after join- ing those atrocious Whigrf, but to be sure she was corrupted by her liusband, whom I remember tlie most thorough Tory going. To be sure, I was a Whig myself in those days, so one must not say too much about ii, but the Whigs then Avere gentlemen. I will tell you what I will do. I will rccoive both on Saturdays and Wednesdays. It is an effort, and I am not as young as I was, but it will only be for a season or less, for I know tliese l)Cople can "ot stand. It will be all over by May."
Prince Florestan had arrived in town, and was now settled in his mansion in Carlton Terrace. It Avas the fashion among the creme de la ere me to keep aloof from him. The Tories did not loA'e revolutionary dynasties, and the AVhigs being in office could not sanction a pretender, and one AAdio, they significantly intimated Avitli a charitable shrug of the shoulders, Avas not a very scrupulous one. The prince himself, though he Avas not insensible to the charms of society, and especially of agreeable Avomen, Avas not much chagrined by this. The Avorld thought thai he had fitted up his fine house, and bought his fine horses, merely for the enjoyment of life. His purposes Avere A'cry different. Though his acquaintances were limited, they were not undistinguished, and he lived with them in intimacy. There had arisen betAveen himself and Mr. Waldershare the closest alliance both of thought and habits. They Avere rarely separated. The prince -was also a frequent guest at the Neu- chatels, and Avas a favorite Avitli the head of the house.
The Duke of St. Angelo controlled the household at Carl- ton Gardens with skill. The appointments Avere finished and the cuisine refined. There Avas a dinner tAvice a week, at Avhich Waldershare was rarely absent, and to Avliich Endymion, whom the prince always treated with kindness, had a general invita- tion. When he occasionally dined there he met ahvays several foreign guests, and all men apparently of mark — at any rate, all distinguished by their intelligence. It AA^as an interesting and useful house for a young man, and especially a young poli- tician, to frequent. Endymion heard many things and learned
A T^TE-A-T&TE DIXNEE.
247
up against iend. Not after join- •rupted by ory going, must not :lemcn. I Saturdays 'oung as I now tlieso
ow settled on amono- Tories did ? in office niticantly was not a e was not agreeable 1 thought le liorscs, rere very ;liey were ntimacy. siiure the 3re rarely the Neu-
at Carl- bed and iit which ti, whom I invita- 3 several ny rate, eresting ng poli- learned
"A
I
many things which otherwise would not have met his ear or mind. The prince encouraged conversation though himself inclined to taciturnity. When he did speak, his terse remarks and condensed views were striking and were remembered. On the days on which he did not receive, the prince dined at the Travelers Club, to which Waldershare had obtiiinc^d his intro- duction, and generally with Waldershare, who took this oppor- tunity of gradually making his friend acquainted with eminent and influential men, many of whom in due time became guests at Carlton Terrace. It Tvas clear, indeed, that these club-din- ners were part of a system.
The }>rince, soon after his arrival in town, while riding, had passed Lady Eoehampton's carriage in the park, and he had saluted her with a grave grace which distinguished him. She was surprised at feeling a little agitated by this rencontre. It recalled llainault, her not mortifying but still humble position beneath that roof, the prince's courtesy to her under those cir- cumstances, and, indeed, his marked preference for her soci- ety. She felt it something like ingratitude to treat him with neglect now, when her position was so changed and had become so elevated. She mentioned to Lord Roehampton while they were dining alone, that she should like to invite the prince to her receptions, and asked his opinion on the jDoint. Lord Roe- hampton shrugged his shoulders and did not encourage her. '' Yon know, my darling, our people do not much like him. They look upon him as a pretender, as having forfeited his parole, and as a refugee from justice. I have no prejudices against him myself, and perlia})s in the same situation might have acted in the same manner ; but if he is to be admitted into society, it should hardly be at a ministerial receptio. ^^d of all houses, that of one who holds my particular post."
'* I know nothing about his forfeiting his parole," said Li..' " Roehampton; *'tlie charge is involved in mystery, and Mi. Walde: .arc told me it was an entire fabrication. As for his being a pretender, he seems to me as legitimate a prince as most we meet ; he was born in the purple, and his father was recognized by every government in Europe except our own. As for being a refugee from justice, a prince in captivity has
W-
248
ENDYMION.
!;!
I i
certainly a ri^^lit to escape if lie can, and his escape was roman- tic. However, I ■will not contest Jiny decision of yours, for I think you aro always right. Only I am disappointed, for, to say nothing of the unkindness, I can not help feeling our not noticing him is rather shabby."
There was a silence, a longer silence than usually occurred in ti'te-a-tete dinners between Lord and Lady Roehampton. To break the silence he began to converse on another subject, and Lady Roehampton replied to him cheerfully, but curtly. He saw she was vexed, and this great man, who was jit that time meditating one of the most daring acts of modern diplomacy, who had the reputation, in the conduct of public affairs, of not only being courageous, but of being stern, inflexible, unfeeling and unscrupulous beyond ordinary statesmen, who had passed his mornings in writing a menacing dispatch to a great power and intimating combinations to the ambassadors of other first- rate states which they almost trembled to receive, was quite upset by seeing his wife chagrined. At last, after another em- barrassing pause, he said gayh, "Do you know, my dear Myra, I do not see why you should aot ask Prince Florestan. It is you that ask him, not I. That is one of the pleasant results of our system of political enterlainments. The guests come to pay their respects to the lady cf the house, so no one is com- mitted. The i^rincc may visit j'ou on Wednesday Just as well as the leaders of the opposition who want our places, or the malcontent Radicals who they say are going to turn us out."
So Prince Florestan was invited to Lady Roehampton's re- ceptions, and he came ; and he never missed one. His visits •were brief. He appeared, made his bow, had the pleasure of fiome slight conversation with her, and then soon retired. Re- ceived by Lady Roehampton, in time, though sluggishly, invi- tations arrived from other houses, but 1. e rarely availed himself of them. He maintained in this respect great reserve, and ■was accustomed to say that the only fine lady in London who had ever been kind to him was Lady Roehampton.
All this time Endymion, who was now thoroughly planted in society, saw a great deal of the Neuchatels, who had returned to Portland Place at the beginning of February. He met Adri-
i
SE/MOUR niCKS.
was roman- ^oiirs, for I ted, for, to ing our not
ly occurred •ehampton. er subject, 3urtly. Ho ; that time diplomacy, airs, of not , unfeeling had passed I'eat power other first- Avas quite lother em- lear ]\Iyra, an. It is tnt results fcs come to Q is com- ist as well es, or the IS out. " pton's ro- His visits leasure of red. Ee- hly, invi- d himself 3rve, and. idon who
Y planted returned net Adri-
m
It
i: .S.-
i t
i'^'
{
241)
ana almost every evening, and wa>3 frequently invited to the house — to the grand dinners now, as well as tlie domestic circU-. In short our Endymion was fast becoming a young man of fashion and a personage. The brother of Lady liochamptou had now become the private secretary of Mr. Sidney Willun and the great friend of Lady Montfort. lie was indeed only one of the numerous admirers of that ladv, but he seemed not the least smiled on. There was never anything delightful at Montfort House at which he was not present, or indeed, in any otlicr place, for under her influence, invitations from tlie most distinguished houses crowded his manteli)iccc and were stuck all round his looking-glass. Endvmion in this whirl of life did not forget his old friends. He took care that Seymour Hicks should have a frequent invitation to Lady Roehanipton's assemblies. Seymour Hicks only wanted a lever to raise the globe, and this introduction supplied him with one. It was astonishing how he made his way in society, and though, of course, he never touched the empyrean regions in Avliich En- dymion noAV breathed, he gradually, and at last rapidly, planted himself in a world which to tho uninitiated figures as the very realm of nobility and fashion, and where doubtless are found a great fund of splendor, refinement, and ar..u;:oment. Sey- mour Hicks was not ill-favored and was alv ays well-dressed, and he was very civil, but Avhat he really owed his social ad- vancement to was his indomitable will. That quality governs all things, and though the will of Seymour Hicks was directed to what many may deem a petty or a contracted purpose, life is always interesting when you have a purpose and live in its fulfillment. It appeared from what he told Endymion that matters at the office had altered a good deal since ho left it. The retirement of St. Barbe Avas the first brick out of the wall ; now, which Endymion had not yet heard, the brother of Tren- chard had most unexpectedly died, and that gentleman como into a good estate. " Jawett remains, and is also the editor of the ' Precursor,' but his new labors so absorb his spare time that he is always at the office of the paper. So it is pretty well all over with the table at Joe's. I confess I could not stand it any longer, particularly after you left. I have got into the
' II
250
EXDYMIOX.
junior Pan-Ionian ; and I am down for the senior ; I can not get in for ten years, but when I do it will bo a coiq) ; the so- ciety there is tiptop, u cabinet minister sometimes, and very often a bishop."
CHAPTER LVI.
ExDYMioK was glad to meet Baron Sergius one day when he dined with Prince Florestan. There were several distin- guished foreigners among the guests, who had just arrived. They talked much, and with much emphasis. One of them, the Marquis of Vallombrosa, expatiated on the Latin race, their great qualities, their vivacity, invention, vividness of perception, chivalrous valor, and sympathy with tradition. The northern races detested them, and the height of states- manship was to combine the I^atin races into an organized and active alliance against the barbarism which menaced them. There had been for a short time a vacant place next to En- dymion, when Baron Sergius, according to his quiet manner, stole into the room and slipped into the unoccupied seat. " It is some time since we met," he said, " but I have heard of you. You are now a public man, and not a public character. That is a not unsatisfactory position."
The prince listened apparently with much interest to the Marquis of Vallombrosa, occasionally asked him a question, and promoted discussion without himself giving any opinion. Baron Sergius never spoke except to Eudymion, and then chiefly social inquiries about Lord and Lady Eoehampton, their good friends the Neuchatels, and frequently about Mr. Sidney Wilton, whom, it appeared, he had known years ago, and inti- mately. After dinner the guests, on their return to the saloon, ranged themselves in a circle, but not too formally, and the prince moving round addressed each of them in turn. "When this royal ceremony was concluded the prince motioned to the Marquis of Vallombrosa to accompany him, and then they repaired to an adjacent saloon, the door of which was open, but where they could converse without observation. The
THE LATIX liACE.
251
can not the so- ind very
ly wlien distin-
arrivetl. 'f them, in nice, iness of
udition. C sttitcs- izcd and tliom.
to En- manner, 1. ''It [ of you. . That
t to the uestion, )pinion. id tlien •n, tlieir
Sidney nd inti-
saloon, md the
When
. to the
in they
3 open,
The
Duke of St. Angelo amused the rcnuiining guests with all the resources of a man practiced in making people feel at their ease, and in this he was soon greatly assisted by Mr. AValdcr- share who was unable to dine with the prince to-day, but who seemed to take much interest in this arrival of the re])rcscnta- tivcs of the Latin race.
Baron Sergius and Endymion were sitting together rather apart from the rest. The baron said, '' You have heard to-day a great deal about the Latin race, their Avondrous qualities, their peculiar destiny, their possible danger. It is a new idea, or rather a new phrase, that I observe is now getting into the political world, and is probably destined to produce conse- quences. No man will treat with indifference the princiide of race. It is the key of history, and why history is often so con- fused is that it has been written by men who WTre ignorant of this jirinciple and all the knowledge it involves. As one who may become a statesman and assist in governing mankind, it is necessary that you should not be insensible to it ; whether you encounter its influence in communities or in individuals, its f[ualities must ever be taken into account. But there is no sub- ject which more requires discriminating knowledge, or where your illustrating in'incix)le, if you are not deeply founded, may not chance to turn out a will-o'-the-wisp. Xow this great question of the Latin race, by wiiich M. de Vallombroi i may succeed in disturbing the world — it might be well to inquire where the Latin race is to be found ? In tlie North of Italy peopled liy Germans and named after Germans, or in the South of Italy, swarming with the descendants of Normans and Arabs ? Shall we find the Latin race in Spain, stocked by Goths, and Moors, and Jews ? Or in France, where there is a great Celtic nation, occasionally mingled with Franks ? Now I do not want to go into the origin of man and nations — I am essentially practical, and only endeavor to comprehend that with which I have personally to deal, and that is sufficiently difficult. In Europe I find three great races with distinct qualities — the Teutons, the Sclaves, and the Celts ; and their conduct Avill be influenced by those distinctive qualities. There is another great race which influences the world, the Semites.
252
EXD YMIOy.
Cei-t;iinly, when I was iit the Congress of Vienna, I did not Ijclievc that tlic Arabs were more likely to become a conquer- ing race again tluin the Tartars, and yet it is a question at this 'noraent whether Mehemet Ali, at their head, may not found a new empire in the Mediterranean. The Semites are un- <luestionably a great race, for among the few things in this world which appear to be certain, nothing is more sure than that they invented our alphabet. But the Semites now exer- cise a vast influence over affairs by their smallest though most peculiar family, the Jews. There is no race gifted with so much tenacit}', and i^ich skill in organization. These quali- ties have given them an unprecedented hold over i)roperty and illimitable credit. As you advance in life, and get experience in affairs, the Jews Avill cross you everywhere. They have long been stealing into our secret diplomacy, which they have almost appropriated ; in another quarter of a century they will claim their share of open government. Well, these are races ; men and bodies of men influenced in their conduct by their particular organization, and which must enter into all the ^. . Iculations of a statesman. But what do they mean by the Latin race ? Language and religion do not make a race — there is only one thing which makes a race, and that is blood."
" But the prince," said Endymion inquiringly ; ^' he seemed mucli interested in what M. do Vallombrosa was saying; I should like to know what his opinions are about the Latin race."
"The prince rarely gives an opinion," said the baron. *' Lideed, as you well know, he rarely speaks ; he thinks and he acts."
" But if he acts on wrong information," cotitinued Endym- ion, ''there will probably bo only one consequence."
"The prince is very wise," said the baron; ''and, trust me, knows as much about mankind, and the varieties of man- kind, as any one. He may not believe in the Latin race, but he may choose to use those who do believe in it. The weakness of the prince, if he have one, is not want of knowledge, or ■want of judgment, but an over-confidence in his star, which sometimes seduces him into enterprises which he himself feels at the time are not perfectly sound."
MAliUIAGE OF I MO G EXE.
253
[ (lid not conqucr- 311 at tlii.s lot fouiul 1 are un- ^s in this sure than low cxcr- ugli most [ "with so esc quali- [icrty and xpcrienco hey liavo iliey liavo iiry tliey tlicse are nduct by • into all mean by a race — s blood." e seemed aying; I in race." baron, inks and
Endym-
id, trust of man- 'ace, but weakness edge, or ", which elf feels
■
CIIAPTKIi LVir.
The interest of tlic town Avas now divided between the danger of the govermncnt and the new preacher who electrified the world at St. Kosicrucius. The Rev. Nigel Pedruddock was not at all a poi)ular prcaclier according to the vulgar ac- ceptation of tlio term, lie disdained all cant and clajjtrap. lie preached Church jjrinciiilcs with commanding eloquence, and he practiced them with unceasing devotion. His Church was always open, yet his schools were never neglected ; there was a perfect choir, a staff of disci[)lined curates, young and ascccic, while sacred sisters, some of i)atrician blood, fearless and prepared for martyrdom, were gliding about all the back slums of his ferociou3 neighborhood. How came the Whigs to give such n church to such a person ? There must have been some mistake. But how came it that all the Whig ladies were among the most devoted of his congregation ? The gov- ernment whips did not like it ; at such a critical period too, when it was necessary to keep the Dissenters up to the mark ! And there was Lady ^lontfort and Lady Iioehampton never absent on a Sunday, and their carriages, it was whispered, were often suspiciously near to St. Rosicvucius on week-days. Mr. Sidney Wilton too was frequently in Lady Roehampton's pew, and one day, absolutely my lord himself, Avho unfortu- nately was rarely seen at church — but then, as is well known, critical dispatches always arrive on a Sunday morning — was successfully landed in her pew by Lady Roehampton, and was very much struck indeed by what he heard. " The fact is," as he afterward observed, "I wish we had such a fellow on our bench in the House of Commons."
About this time also there was another event, which, although not of so general an interest, much touched the feel- ings of Endymion, and this was the marriage of the Earl of Beaumaris with Imogene. It was solemnized in as private and quiet a manner as possible. Waldershare was the best man, and there w^ere no bridesmaids. The only other persons in-
251
ENDYMIOK
t
"\ i
i
yitcd by Mr. Rodney, who gare a,v;ay the bride, were Endym- ion and Mr. Vigo.
One morning, a few days before the wedding, Sylvia, who had written to ask i^ady Roeliampton for an interview, called by appointment in St. James' Square. Sylvia was received by Lady Roehampton in her boudoir, and the interview was long. Sylvia, who by nature was composed, and still more so by art, was pale and nervous when she arrived, so much so that her demeanor was noticed by the groom of the chambers ; but when she departed, her countenance was flushed and radiant, though it was obvious that she had been shedding tears. On the morning of the wedding, Lady Roehampton in her lord's brougham called for Endymion at the Albany, and then they went together to the vestry of St. James' Church. Lord Beau- maris and Mr. Waldershare had arrived. The bridegroom was a little embarrassed when presented to Lady Roehampton. He had made up his mind to be married, but not to be introduced to a stranger, and particularly a lady ; but ^Ir. Waldershare flut- tered over them and put all right. It was only the perplexity of a moment, for the rest of the wcddinir party now appeared. Imogene, who was in a traveling dress, was pale and serious, but transcendently beautiful. She attempted to toucli Lady Roehampton's hand wath her lips wiien Myra welcomed her, but Lady Roehampton would not permit this and kissed her. Everybody was calm during the ceremony except Endymion, who had been silent the whole morning. He stood by the altar with that convulsion of the throat and that sickness of the heart which accompany the sense of catastrophe. He was re- lieved by some t sars which he easily concealed. Nobody no- ticed him, for all were thinking of themselves. After the ceremony, they all returned to the vestry, and Lady Roehamp- ton with the others signed the registry. Lord and Lady Beau- maris instantly departed for the continent.
'*A strange event!" exclaimed Lady Roehampton, as she threw herself back in the brougham and took her brotlier's hand. " But not stranger than what has happened to ourselves. Fortune seems to attend on our ruined home. I thought the bride looked beautiful."
BEREXGARIA'S CHARACTER.
255
3 Endym-
^Ivia, wlio 3W, called ceived by was long, so by art,
that her )ers ; but I radiant, ears. On lier lord's then they 3rd Bcau- ,Toom was ton. He itroduced ;liare flut- )erplexity ippeared. I serious, ucli Lady med her, ssed her. idymion,
the altar ss of the e was re- body no- Vftcr the loehamp- dy Beau-
n, as she brother's )urselves. light the
Endymion was silent.
*' You are not gay this morning, my dear," said Lady Roe- hampton ; ''they say that weddings are depressing. Now I am in rather high spirits. I am very glad that Imogene has become Lady Beaumaris. She is beautiful, and dangerously beautiful. Do you know, my Endymion, I have had some un- easy moments about this young lady. Women are prescient in these matters, and I have observed with anxiety, that you ad- mired her too much yourself. "
"1 am sure you had no rea on Myra," said Endymion, blushing deeply.
*' Certainly not from what you said, my dear. It was from what you did not say that I became alarmed. You seldom mentioned her name, and when I referred to her, you always turned the conversation. IIowe\er, that is all over now. She is Countess of Beaumaris," added Myra, dwelling slowly and with some unction, on the title, " and mtiy be a powerful friend to you ; and I am Countess of Roehampton, and am your friend, also not quite devoid of power. And there are other countesses, I suspect, on whose good wislies you may rely. If we can not shape your destiny, there is no such thing as witchcraft. No, Endymion, marriage is a mighty instrument in your hands. It must not be lightly used. Come in and lunch ; my lord is at home, and I know lie wants to see you."
CHAPTER LVm.
What was most remarkable, and most interesting, in tlie character of Berengaria was her energy. She had the power of exciting others to action in a degree rarely possessed. Slie had al »v'ays some considerable object in contemplation, occasion- ally more than one, and never foresaAV difficulties. Her character was, however, singularly feminine ; she never affected to be a superior woman. She never reasoned, did not read much, though her literary taste was fine and fastidious. Though she required constant admiration and consequently encouraged it, she was
m'
I \
I
25G
EITDYMIOX.
not a lioartless coquette. Ilor sensibility was too quick, and as the reign of bci* favorites was sometimes brief, she was looked iijion as capricious. The truth is, what seemed whimsical in her affections ;vas occasioned by the subtlety of her taste, which was not ahvays satisfied by the increased experience of intimacy. Whenever she made a friend not unworthy of her, she Avas con- stant and entirely devoted.
At present, Berengaria had two great objects ; one was to sustain the Whig government in its troubles, and the other was to accomplish an unprecedented feat in modern Manners, and that was no less than to hold a tournament, a real i namcni, in the autumn, at the famous castle of her lord in tl^ north of England.
The lord-lioutenant had not been in his county for two years ; he had even omitted to celebrate Christmas at his castle, which had shocked everybody, for its revelry was looked upon nlmost as the tenure by which the Montforts held their estates. His plea of ill-health, industriously circulated by all his agents, neither obtained sympathy nor credence. His county was rather a weak point with Lord Montfort, for though he could not bear his home, he was fond of power, and power depended on his territorial influence. The representation of his county by his family, and authority in the local parliamentary boroughs, were the compensations held out to him for the abolition of his nom- ination boroughs. His wife dexterously availed herself of this state of affairs to obtain his assent to her grtit project, wliicli, it would appear, might not only amuse him, but, in its unpre- cedented magnificence and novelty, must sweep away all discon- tents, and gratify every class.
Lord Montfort had placed unlimited resources ft the disposal of Berengaria for the fulfillment of her purpose, and at times even shov/ed some not inconsiderable though fitful interest in her progress. He turned over the drawings of the various cos- tumes and armor with a gracious smile, and having picked up •on such subjects a great deal of knowledge, occasionally made suggestions which were useful and sometimes embarrassing. The heralds were all called into council, and Garter himself deigned to regulate the order of proceedings. Some of the
f
A ORAVE OUTLOOK.
25 T
[nick, and vas looked imsical in ste, which intimacy. 3 was cou-
)nG was to other was mcrs, and iiamcnt, nortli of
') for two his castle, ked upon ir estat"-. lis agents, vas rather 1 not bear ed on his ity by his ighs, were his nom- Blf of this it, Avhich, its unpre- ill discon-
e disposal I at times iterest in I'ious cos- )icked up dly made irrassing. : himself te of the
finest gentlemen in London, of both parties in the state, passed the greater part of their spring mornings in jousting, and in practicing all the manceuvres of the lists. Lady Montfort her- self was to be the Queen of the Tournament, and she had pre- vailed on Lady Roehampton to accept the supremo office of Queen of Beauty.
It was the early part of May, and Zenobia held one of her great assemblies. Being in high good humor, sanguine and prophetic of power, she had asked all the great AVhig ladies, and, the times being critical, they had come. Bercngaria seemed absorbed by the details of her tournament. She met many of her knights, and she conferred with tlicm all : the Knight of the Bleeding Heart, the Knight of Roses, the Knight of the Crystal Shield.
Endymion, who was not to be a knight, but a gentleman- at-arms in attendance on the Queen of the Tournament, men- tioned that Prince Florestan much wished to be a jouster ; he had heard this from the Duke of St. Angelo, and Lady Mont- fort, though she did not immediately sanction, did not abso- lutely refuse, the reiiuest.
Past midnight, there was a sudden stir in the saloons. The House of Commons had broken up and many members were entering. There had been a division on the Jamaica question and the ministers had only a majority of five. Tlie leader of the House of Commons had intimated, not to say announced, their consequent resignation.
'• ITave you heard what they say ?" said Endymion anxious- ly to Lady Montfort.
'• Yes, I heard ; but do not look so grave."
" Do I look <xrave ? "
'' As if it were the last day."
" I fear it is."
" I am not so sure. I doubt whether Sir Robert thinks it ripe enough ; and after all, we are not in a minority. I do not see why we should have resigned. I wish I could see Lord Roehami»ton."
Affairs did not proceed so rapidly as the triuniiihant Zeno- bia expected. They were out, no question about that ; l)nt it
258
ENDYMION.
i
was not so certain wlio was in. A day passed and another day, and even Zenobia, who knew everything before anybody, re- mained in the dark. The suspense became protracted and even more mysterious. Almost a week had elapsed ; noble lords and right honorable gentlemen were calling on Sir Robert every morning, according to the newsjiapcrs, but no one could hear from any authority of any ajipointment being really made. At last, there was a whisper very late one night at Crockford's, which was always better informed on these matters than the political clubs, and people looked ainazcd, and stared incredu- lously in each others' face. But it was true ; there was a hitch, and in four-and-twenty hours the cause of the hitch was known. It seemed that the ministry really had resigned, but Berengaria, Countess of Montfort, had not followed their example.
What a dangerous woman ! even wicked ! Zcnobia was for sending her to the Tower at once. '' It was clearly imj^os- sible," she declared, "for Sir Robert to carry on affairs with such a Duchesse de Longueville ilways at the car of our young Queen, under the pretense forsoc fch of being the friend of Her Majesty's youth."
This was the famous Bed-Cliambcr Plot, in which the Con- servative leaders, as is now generally admitted, were decidedly in error, and which terminated in the return of the Wliijis to office.
"But we must reconstruct," said Lady Montfort to the prime minister. " Sidney "Wilton must be Secretary of State. And you," she said to Endymion, when she communicated to him the successful result of her interference, "you will go Avitli him. It is a great thing at your age to be private secre- tary to a Secretary of State."
MONTFORT CASTLE.
259
lother day, ybody, re- •actcd and led ; noble Sir Robert one could ally made, •ockford's, than the 1 incredu- ere was a hitch was gned, but ved their
ia was for •ly imiDos- 'airs with »ur young- id of Iler
the Con- decidedly Whigs to
rt to the of State, icated to I will go ate secre-
CIIAPTER LIX.
MoNTFORT Castle was the stronghold of England against the Scotch invader. It stood on a high and vast table-land, with the town of Montfort on one side at its feet, and on the other a wide-spreading and sylvan domain, lierded with deer of various races, and terminating in pine forests ; beyond them moors and mountains. The Donjon Keep, tall and gray, that had arrested tlio Douglas, still remained intact, and many an ancient battlement ; but the long list of the Lords of Montfort had successively added to the great structure according to the genius of the times, so that still with the external appearance generally of a feudal castle, it combined in its various courts and quadrangles all the splendor and convenience of a modern palace.
But though it had witnessed many scenes and sights, and as strange ones as any old walls in this ancient land, it may be doubted whether the keej) of Montfort ever looked down on anything more rare than the life that was gathering and dis- porting itself in its towers and halls, and courts and parks, and forest chase, in the memorable autumn of this year.
Bercngaria had repaired to her castle full of triumph ; her lord, in high good humor, admiring his wife for her energy, yet with a playful malice apparently enjoying the opportunity of showing that the chronology of her arrangements was con- fused, and her costume incorrect. They had good-naturedly taken Endymion down with them ; for traveling to the Border in those times was a serious affair foi a clerk in a public office. Day after day the other guests arrived ; the rivals in the tour- ney were among the earliest, for they had to make themselves ac((uainted with the land which Avas to be the scene of tlieir exploit^.. There ci me the Knights of the Griffin, and the Dragon, and the Black Lion and the Golden Lion, and the Dolphin and the Stag's Head, and they were all always scrupu- lously addressed by their chivali'ic names, instead of by the Tommys and the Jemmys that circulated in the affectionate circle of AVhite's, or the Gusseys and the Regys of Belgravian
'?. ■
-200
ENDYMIOK
tea-parties. After a time duly appeared the Kn'glit of the \Vhitc liose, whose armor shielded the princely fcm of Flores- tan ; and this portion of the company was complete when the Black Knight at length reached the castle, who had been de- tained by his attendance on a conference at St. James', in the character of the Count of Ferroll.
If anything could add to the delight and excitement of Berengaria it Avould seem to be the arrival of the Count of Ferroll.
Other guests gradually appeared, who Avere to sustain other characters in the great pageant. There Avas the Judge of Peace, and the Knight Marshal of the Lists, and the Jester, who AA^as to ride on a caparisoned mule trapped AA'itli bells, and himself bearing a scepter. Mr. Sidney Wilton came doAvn, who had promised to be King of the Tournament ; and, though rather late, for my lord had been detained by the same cause as the Count of Ferroll, at length arrived the Queen of Beauty herself.
If the performance, to Avhich all contiguous Britain intend- ed to repair — for irrespectiA'e of the railroads Avhicli noAV began sensibly to affect the communications in the north of England, steamers Avere chartering from every port for passengers to the Montfort tournament Avithin one hundred miles' distance — were equal to the preparation, the affair must be a great suc- cess. The grounds round the castle seemed to be filled every day with groups of busy persons in fanciful costume, all prac- ticing their duties and rehearsing their jiarts ; swordsmen and bowmen, and seneschals and esquires, and grooms and pages, and heralds in tabards, and pursuiA'ants, and banner-bearers. The splendid pavilions of the knights Averc noAv comi^letcd, and the gorgeous throne of the Queen of Beauty, surrounded by crimson galleries, tier above tier, for thousands of favored guests, Avere receiving only their last stroke of magnificence. The mornings passed in a feverish whirl of curiosity, and preparation and excitement, and some anxiety. Then succeed- ed the banquet, where nearly one hundred guests were CA^ery day present ; but the company were so absorbed in the im- pending event that none expected or required, in the CA'cnings,
f
TUE PEIXCE AND LADY ROEHAMPTOX.
2C1
jht of the . of Florcs- ) when the d been de- les', in the
itement of Connt of
stain other Judge of he Jester, bells, and :me down, id, thongh anie cause of Beauty
in intend- low began England, ^ers to the iistance — great suc- lled every , all prac- smen and nd pages, )r-bcarers. leted, and unded by f favored ;'nificence. isity, and 1 succeed- 'ere every I the im- evenings,
any of the usual schemes or sources of amusement that abound in country houses. Comments on the morning, and plans fo;* the morrow, engrossed all thought and conversation, and my lord's band was just a due accompaniment that filled the pauses, when perplexities arrested talk, or deftly blended with some whispered phrase almost as sweet or thrilling as the notes of the cornet-a-piston.
''I owe my knighthood to you," said Prince Florestan to Lady Iloehampton, "as I do everything in this country that is agreeable."
"You can not be my knight," replied Lady Roehampton,. "because I am told I am the sovereign of all the chivalry, but you have my best wishes."
"All that I want in life," said the prince, "are your good wishes."
"I fear they are barren."
" No, they are inspiring," said the prince with unusual
feeling.
" You brought me good fortune. From the moment
I saw you, light fell upon my life."
" Is not that an exaggerated phrase ? " said Lady Eoehamp- ton with a smile, "because I happened to get you a ticket for a masquerade."
"I was thinking of something else," said the prince pen- sively, "but life is a masquerade ; at least mine has been."
" I think yours, sir, is a most interesting life," said Lady Roehampton, "and, were I you, I Avould not quarrel with my destiny."
" My destiny is not fulfilled," said the prince. " I have never quarreled with it, and am least disposed to do so at this moment."
"Mr. Sidney Wilton was speaking to me very much the other day about your royal mother, sir. Queen Agrippina. She must have been fascinating."
" I like fascinating women," said the prince, " but they are rare."
" Perhaps it is better it should be so," said Lady Roehamp- ton, " for they are apt — arc they not ? — to disturb the world."
262
END Y MI OK
'* I confess I like to he bewitched," said the prince, ''and I do not care how much the world is disturbed. "
" But is not the world very well as it is ?" said Lady I?oc- hampton. "Why should we not be happy and enjoy it ?"
*'I do enjoy it," replied Prince Florestan, "especially at Montfort Castle ; I suppose there is something in the air tliat agrees with one. But enjoyment of the present is consistent with objects for the future."
"Ah ! now you are thinking of your great affairs — of your kingdom. My woman's brain is not equal to that."
"I think your brain is quite equal to kingdoms," said the prince with a serious expression, and speaking in even a lower voice, "but I was not thinking of my kingdom. I leave that to fate ; 1 believe it is destined to be mine, and therefore occasions me thought but not anxiety. I was thinking ot some- thing else than kingdoms, and of which unhappily I am not so certain — of which I am most uncertain — of Avhicli I fear I have no chance — and yet which is dearer to me than even my crown. "
"What can that be? "said Lady Roehampton with unaf- fected wonderment.
"'Tis a secret of chivalry." said Prince Florestan, "and I must never disclose it."
"It is a wonderful scene," said Adriana Neuchatel to En- dymion, who had been for some time conversing with her. " I had no idea that I should be so much amused by anything in society. But then, it is so unlike anything one has ever seen."
Mrs. Neuchatcl had not accompanied her husband and her daughter to the Montfort Tournament. Mr. Neuchatel re- quired a long holiday, and after the tournament he was to take Adriana to Scotland. Mrs. Neuchatel shut herself up at Ilai- nault, which it seemed she had never enjoyed before. She could hardly believe it was the same place, freed from its daily inva- sions by the House of Commons and the Stock Exchange. She had never lived so long without seeing an ambassador or a cab- inet minister, and it was quite a relief. She wandered in the gardens, and drove her pony-chair in forest glades. She missed Adriana very much, and for a few days always expected her to
EXDYMION AND ADRIANA.
2G3
CO, *'and I
Lady T?oc-
)yit?" specially at ho air that I consistent
s — of your
," said the Tn a lower I leave i therefore ig ot some- am not so 1 I fear I n even my
with unaf-
1, '^and I
tel to En- L her. " I ything in ver seen." I and her chatel re- as to take ip at Ilai- She could aily inva- tige. She or a cah- 3d in the le missed ;ed her to
enter the room when the door opened ; and then she sighed, and then she flew to her easel, or buried herself in some sub- lime cantata of her favorite master, Beethoven. Then came the most wonderful performance of the whole day, and that was the letter, never missed, to Adriana. Considering that ^lic lived in solitude, and in a spot with which her daughter was quite familiar, it was really marvelous that the mother should every day be able to fill so many interesting and impassioned pages. But Mrs. Ncuchatel was a fine pen woman ; her feel- ings were her facts, and her ingenious observations of art and nature were her news. After the first fever of separation, read- ing was always a resource to her, for she was a great student. She was surrounded by all the literary journals and choice pub- lications of Europe, and there scarocly was a branch of science and learning with which she was not sufficiently familiar to be able to comprehend the stir and progress of the European mind. Mrs. Neuchatel had contrived to get rid of the chief cook by sending him on a visit to Paris, so she could, without cavil, dine off a cutlet and seltzer-water in her boudoir. Some- times, not merely for distraction, but more from a sense of duty, she gave festivals to her schools, and when she had lived like a princely prisoner of state alone for a month, or rather like one on a desert isle who sighs to see a sail, she would ask a great geologist and his wife to pay her a visit, or some pro- fessor, who, though himself not worth a shilling, had some new plans, which really sounded quite practical, for the more equal distribution of wealth.
" And who is your knight ? " said Endymion.
Adriana looked distressed.
"I mean, whom do you wish to win ?"
" Oh, I should like them all to win ! "
*' That is good-natured, but then there would be no dis- tinction. I know who is going to wear your colors — the Knight of the Dolphin."
''I hope nothing of that kind will happen," said Adriana, agitated. " I know that some of the knights are going to wear ladies' colors, but I trust no one will think of wearing mine. I know the Black Knight wears Lady Montfort's."
2G4
FXDVMroy.
" He can not," said Endymion luistily. '' Slic is first lauy to the Queen of Beauty ; no knight can wear the colors of iho Queen. I asked Sir Morte d'Arthur himself, and he told me there was no doubt about it, and that he had consulted Garter before he came down."
" Well, all I know is that the Count of Ferroll told mo so," said Adriana ; " I sate next to him at dinner."
" He shall not wear her colors," said Endymion quite an- grily. '* I will npeak to the King of the Tournament about it dirnctly."
" Why, what docs it signify ? " said Adriana.
'* You thought it signifird when I told you Regy Sutton was going to wear your colors."
*''Ali ! that is quite a different business," said Adriana with a sigh.
Reginald Sutton was a professed admirer of Adriana, rode with her whenever he could, and danced with her immensely. She gave him cold encouragement, though he was the best- looking and best-dressed youth in England ; but he was a determined young horo, not gifted with too sensitive nerves, and was a votary of the great theory that all in life was an affair of will, and that endowed with sufficient energy he might marry whom he liked. He accounted for his slow advance in London by the inimical presence of Mrs. Neiichatel, who he felt, or fancied, did not sympathize with him, while, on the contrary, he got on very well with the father, and so he was determined to seize the present opportunity. The mother was absent, and he himself in a commanding position, being one of the knights to whose exploits the eyes of all Eiigland were attracted.
Lord Roehampton was seated between an ambiis.-adress and Berengaria, indulging in gentle and sweet-voiced raillery ; the Count of Ferroll was standing beside Lady Montfort, and Mr. Wilton was opposite to the group. The Count of Ferroll rarely spoke, but listened to Lady Montfort with what she called one of his dark smiles.
''All I know is, she will never pardon you for not asking her," said Lord Roehampton. "I saw Bicester the day I left
MGEVS VIEWS.
2U5
is first lauy ilors of tlio le told mo Ited Garter
3ld me so,"
I quite au- nt about it
egy Sutton
Iriana with
riana, rodo immensely. 13 the best- ; he was a ive nerves, as an affair he might advance in ;cl, who ho lile, on the I so he was mother was , being one ^land were
sadress and lillery ; the rt, and Mr. irroU rarely ; called one
not asking e day I left
town, iind ho was very grumpy. lie said that Lady Bicester was the only person who understood tournaments. 8he had studied the subject."
''I su[)posc she wanted to bo the Queen of Beauty," said Bercngaria.
^'You are too severe, my dear lady. I think she would have been contented with a knight wearing her colors."
*• Well, I can not help it," said Bercngaria, but somewhat doubting] y. And then, after a moment's pause, "She is too ugly."^
"Why, she came to iry fancy ball, and it is not five years ago, as Mary, Queen of Scots ! "
"That must have been after the Queen's decapitation,'* said Bercngaria.
"I wonder you did not ask Zcnobia," said ^Vlr. Wilton.
" Of course I asked her, bat I knew she would not come. She is in one of her hatreds now. She said she would have come, only she had half promised to give a ball to the tenants at Merrington about that time, and she did not like to disap- point them. Quite touching, was it not ? "
"A touch beyond the reach of art," said Mr. Wilton ; "al- most worthy of yourself, Lady Montfort."
"And what do you think of all this ? " asked Lord Mont- fort of Nigel Penruddock, who, in a cassock tliat swept the ground, had been stalking about the glittering saloons like a prophet who had been ordained in May Fair, but who had now seated himself by his host.
"I am thinking of what is beneath all this," replied Nigel. " A great revivification. Chivalry is the child of the Church ; it is the distinctive feature of Christian Europe. Had it not been for the revival of Church principles, tliis glorious pageant would never have occurred. But it is a pageant only to the uninitiated. There is not a ceremony, a form, a phrase, a costume, which is not symbolic of a great truth or a high pur- pose."
''I do not think Lady Montfort is aware of all this," said her lord.
" Oh, yes ! " said Nigel. " Lady Montfort is a great woman
12
•m
2C0
EXDYMIOX
— a woman who could inspire crusades and create cliurches. She might, and she Avill, I trust, rank with the Ilclena- and tlie Matildas."
Lord Montfort gave a little sound, but so gentle that il wa;* heard ]n-ol)al)ly but by himself, which in common hmgungo would be styled a whistle — an articulate modulation of the breath which in this instance expressed a sly sentiment of hu- morous amazement.
'' Well, Mr. Ferrars," said Mr. Xeuchatel, with a lau;iliiufr eye, to that young gentleman, as he encountered Endymion passing by, '*and how are j'ou getting on ? Are we to see you to-morrow in a Milanese suit ? "
" I am only a page," said Endymion.
*' "Well, well, the old Italian saying is, 'A page beats a knight,' at least with the ladies."
''Do not you think it very absurd," said Endymion, ''that the Count of Ferroll sa3"s he shall wear Lady Montfort's colors ? Lady Montfort is only the first lady of the Queen of Beauty, and she can wear no colors except the Queen's. Do not you think somebody ought to interfere ?"
"Hem ! The Count of Ferroll is a man who seldom makes a mistake," said Mr. Neuchatel.
" So everybody says," said Endymion, rather testily ; "' but I do not sec that."
"Now, you are a very young man," said Mr. Xeuchatel, "and I hope you will some day be a statesman. I do not see why you should not, if you are industrious and stick to your master, for Mr. Sidney Wilton is a man who will always rise ; but, if I were you, I Avould keep my eyes very much on the Count of Ferroll, for, depend on it, he is one of tliose men who sooner or later will make a noise in the world."
Adriana came up at this moment, leaning on the arm of the Knight of the Dolphin, better known as Regy Sutton, They came from the tea-room. Endymion moved away with a cloud on his brow, murmuring to himself, "I am quite sick of the name of the Count of Ferroll."
The jousting-ground was about a mile from the castle, and though it was nearly encircled by vast and lofty galleries, it
Imrclies. ;nas and
at it was language II of tlie t of liu-
laugliiug nclymion 3 SCO you
! beats a
111, 'Hliat
's colors ?
' Beauty,
not 3'ou
)ni makes
y
but
'cucliatel, lo not see z to your \ays rise ; 'h on the men who
10 arm of f Sutton, \ay with a ite sick of
astle, and alleries, it
.
.•w
I If
n
77//; PROCESS 10 \.
267
was impossible that accommodation could be atTordcd on this spot to the thousands who had repaired from many parts of tho kingdom to tlio Moutfort Tournament. But even a liundred thousand people could witness the procession from the castlo to tho scene of action. That was superb. The sun shone, and not one of the breatlilcss multitude was disappoi?;ted.
Tliere came a long line of men-at-arms and musicians and trum})cters and banner-bearers of the Lord of the Tournament, and heralds in tabards, and pursuivants, and then the Herald of the Tournament by himself, whom the people at first mis- took for tho Lord Mayor.
Tlicn came the Knight ^Earshal on a caparisoned .steed, himself in a suit of gilt armor, and in a richly embroidered surcoat. A band of luilberdiers preceded the King of the Tournament, also on a steed richly ca})arisaned, and himself clad in robes of velvet and ermine, and wearing a golden crown.
Then on a barded Arab, herself dressed in cloth of gold, parti-colored with violet and crimson, came, amid tremendous cheering, tho Queen of Beauty herself. Twelve attendants bore aloft a silken canopy, which did not conceal from tlio enraptured multitude the luster of her matchless loveliness. Lady Moutfort, Adriana, and four other attendant ladies, fol- lowed her majesty, two by two, each in gorgeous attire, and on a charger that vied in splendor with its mistress. Six pages followed next, in violet and silver.
Tho bells of a barded mule announced tho Jester, who Avaved his scepter with unceasing authority, and i)olted the people Avith admirably prepared impromptus. Some in the crowd tried to enter into a compcLHion of banter, but they were always van- quished.
Soon a largo company of men-at-arms and the sounds of most triumphant music stopped the general laughter, and all became again hushed in curious suspense. The tallest and the stoutest of the Border men bore tho gonfalon of the Lord of the Tournament. That should have been Lord Moutfort him- self ; but ho had deputed the office to his cousin and presump- tive heir. Lord Moutfort was Avell represented, and the peo-
2C8
FyDYMIOX
l)le cheered his cousin Odo licartily, us in liis suit of golden armor richly chased, and bending on his steed, cajiarisoncd in blue and gold, he acknowledged their fealty with a proud reverence. The other knights followed in order, all attended by their esquires and their grooms. Each knight was greatly applauded, and it was really a grand sight to see them on their barded chargers and in their pano]dy ; some in suits of engraved Mi- lanese armor, some in German suits of fluted polished steel ; some in steel armor engraved and inlaid with gold. The Black Knight was much cheered, but no one commanded mc>re ad- miration than Prince Florestan, in a suit of blue damascened armor, and inlaid with silver roses.
Every procession must end. It is a pity, for there is no- thing so popular with mankind. The splendid part of the pageant had passed, but fetill the people gazed and looked as if they would have gazed for ever. The visitors at the castle, all in ancient costume, attracted much notice. Companies of swordsmen and bowmen followed, till at last the seneschal of the castle, with his chamberlains and servitors, closed the spell- bound scene.
ttw
CHAPTER LX.
The jousting was very successful ; though some were neces- sarily discomfited, almost every one contrived to obtain some distinction. But the two knights who excelled and vancpiished every one except themselvrs were the Black Knight, and the Knight of the White 'Rosv. Their exploits were e(iual at the close of the first day, and on the second they were to contend for the principal ju'ize of the tournament, tor which none else were entitled to be competitors. This was a golden helm, to bo placed upon the victor's brow by the Queen of Beauty.
There was both a banquet and a ball on this day, and the excitement between the Jidventurcs of the morning and the pros])ects of the morrow was great. The Vnights, freed from their ari^or, appeared in fanciful dresses of many-colored vel-
j:m) ) Ml OS '.V (;!. oomimjs.'^.
2»;o
vet.-'. All Avho luul taken part i;i the piigeaiit retained tlieir costumes, and the ordinary gnests, if tliey yielded to mediteviil splendor, suf^ccssfully asserted the taste of Riris and its spark- ling grace, in their exquisite rol)es, and wreaths and garlands of fantastic loveliness.
Berengaria, full of the ins})lration of success, received the smiling congratulations of everybody, and repaid them with happy suggestions, which she poured forth with inexhaustible yet graceful energy. The only i)erson who had a gloomy air wasEndymion. She rallied him. '•! shall call you the Knight of the AVoful Countenance if you approach me with such a visage. What can be the matter with you ?"
"Nothing," said Endymion, in a tone of sullen misery.
''' There is something. I know your countenance too well to be deceived. AVhat is the matter ? "
''Nothing," repeated Endymion, looking rather away.
The Knight of the Dolphin came up and said, "This is a critical affair to-morrow, my dear Lady Montfort. If the Count of Ferroll is discomfited by the prince it may jc a casus MIL You ought to get Lord lioehami^ton to interfere and prevent the encounter."
"The Count of Ferroll will not be discomfited," said Lady Montfort. "He is one of those men Avho never fail."
"Well, I do not know," said the Knight of the Dolphin musingly. "The prince has a stout lance, and I have felt it."
"He had the best of it this morning," said Endymion rather bitterly. " Every one thought so, and Ihat it was very fortunate for the Count of Ferroll that the heralds closed the lists."
"It might have been fortunate for others," rejoined Lady Montfort. "What is the general oi)inion ?" she added, ad- dressing the Kniglit of the Dolphin. " Do not go away, ^Ir. Ferrars. I want to give you some directions about to-morroAv."
"I do not think I shall be at the place to-morrow," mut- tered Endymion.
"What !" exchiimed Berengaria ; but at this moment ]\Ir. Sidney Wilton came up and said, " I have been looking at the golden helm. It is intrusted to my care as King v.f the Tour-
270
EXL YMIOX.
namcnt. It is really so beautiful, that I tliiiik I shall usui;) it."
"You will have to settle that with the Count of Ferroll," said Berengaria.
"The betting is about equal," said the Knight of the Dol- phin.
"Well; we must have some gloves \\\)0\\ it," said Berengaria.
Endjmion walked away.
He walked away, and the first i)crsons that met his eye Avere the prince and the Count of Ferroll in conversation. It was sickening. They seemed (|uitc gay, and occasionally examined together a paper which the prince held in his hand, and which was an official report Ijy the heralds of the day's jousting. This friendly conversation might have gone on for ever had not the music ceased and ilie count been obliged to seek his partner for the coming dance.
"I Avonder you can speak to him," said Endymion, going up to the prince. '• If the heralds had not — many think, too hastily — closed the lists this morning, you would have been the victor of the day." '
"My dear child ! Avhat can you mean ?" said the prince. "I belicA'C CA'crything Avas closed quite properly, and, as for myself, I am entirely satisfied with my share of the day's suc-
cess.
J)
"If you had thrown him," said Endymion, "he could not Avith decency have contended for the golden helm."
"Oh ! that is Avhat you deplore," said the prince. "The Count of Ferroll and I shall have to contend for many things more precious than golden helms before a\'C die."
"I belicA'c he is a A'cry OA'crrated man," said Endymion.
" Why ? " said the prince.
"I detest him," said Endymion.
"Tiiat is certainly a reason Avhy you should not overrate him," said the prince.
"There seems a general conspiracy to run him up," said Endymion Avith pi([ue.
"Tlie Count of Ferroll is the man of tlie future," said the prince calmly.
MORTIFICATION.
L>71
*' That is wliat Mr. Neucluitcl said to inc yesterday. I sup- pose lie cauglit it from you."
'•'It is an advantage, a great advantage, for me to observe the Count of Ferroll in this intimate society," said tlie prince speaking slowly, ''perhaps even to fathom him. But I am not come to that yet. He is a man neither to love nor to detest. He has himself an intelligence superior to all passion, I might say all feeling ; and if, in dealing with such a being, we our- selves have either, we give him an advantage."
"Well, all the same I hope you will win tlie golden helm to-morroAv," said Endymion looking a little perplexed.
"The golden casfpie that I am ordained to win," said the prince, " is not at Montfort castle. This, after all, is but Mambrino's helmet."
A knot of young dandies were discussing the chances of the morrow as Endymion was passing by, and as he knew most of them he joined the group.
" I hope to heaven," said one, " that the Count of Ferroll will beat that foreign chap to-morrow ; I hate foreigners."
"So do T," said a second, and there was a general murmur of assent.
'•'The Count of Ferroll is as much a foreigner as the prince," said Endymion rather sharply.
"Oh! I don't call him a foreigner at all," said the first speaker. "lie is a great favorite at White's ; no one rides cross country like him, and he is a deuced fine shot in the bar- gain."
'•I will back Prince Florostan against him either in field or cover," said Endvniion.
"Well, I don't know your friend," said the young gentle- man contemptuously, " so I can not bet."
" I am sure your friend, Ltidy Montfort, my dear Dymy, will back tlio Count of Ferroll," lisped a third young gentle- man.
This completed the programme of mortification, and En- dymion hot, and tlien cold, and then both at the same time, bereft of repartee, and wishing the earth would open and Montfort Castle disappear in its convul::ed bosom, stole sik-ntly
272
ENDYMION.
I
away as soon as i)raetical)le, and wandered as far as possible from the music and the ])ursts of revelry.
These conversations had taken place in the chief saloon, ■which was contiguous to the ball-room and which was nearly as full of guests. Endymion, moving in the ojiposite direction, entered another drawing-room, where the population was t^parse. It consisted of couples apparently deeply interested in each other. Some faces were radiant, and some pensive, and II little agitated, but they all agreed in one expression, that they took no interest whatever in the solitary Endymion. Even thr'r whisjiered Avords Avcre hushed as he passed by, and they ZQC\ ^d, with their stony, unsympathizing glance, to look upon hin is upon some inferior being who had intruded into their part. lise. In short, Endymion felt all th . embarrass- ment, mingled with a certain portion of self-contempt, which attends the conviction that we are Avhat is delicately called de trop.
lie advanced and took rcfuo-c in another room, Avhcro there •was only a single and still more engrossed pair ; but this was even more intoler ^ to him. Shrinking from a return to the hostile chamber he had just left, he made a frantic rush for- ward with affected case and alacrity, and found himself alone in the favorite morning room of Lady Montfort.
lie threw himself on a sofa and hid his face in his hand, and gave a sigh, which w\as almost a groan. lie was sick at lieart ; his extremities were cold, his brain was feeble. Ail hope, and truly all thought of the future, deserted him. He "^mem- hercd only the sorrowful, or the humiliating, chapters in nis life. He wished he had never left llurstley. He wished he had been a]iprenticed to Farmer Thornl}crry ; that he had never quitted his desk at Somerset Mouse ; and never known more of life tlian Joe's and the divan. All was vanity and vc.;ation of sjiirit. lie contemplated finishing his days in the neighboring stream, in which, but a few days ago, he was bathing in health and joy.
Time flew on ; he was unconscious of it? course ; no one en- tered the room, and he Avishcd never to see a human face again, when a \o\r"} sound< I iiiit' he Iicard his name.
'*Endvm.ji,>, 1"
>J
t
DESPAIR.
2 7; J
\ %
%>
t
lie looked up ; it was Lady Montfort. He did not speak, but gave lier, perliaps luiconyeioiisiy, a glance of reproach and despair.
" AVliat i.s the matter with you ?" she said.
*' Nothing."
'•That is nonsense. Sometliing must liave luippened. 1 have missed you so long, but was determined to fnd you. Have you a headache ? "
''No."
*' Come back ; come back with me. It is 50 odd. My lord has asked for you twice."
" I want to see no one ."
" Oh ! but this is absurd — and on a day like this, Avhen every- thing has been so successful and every one Ls so happy."
" I am not happy, and I am not successful."
" You perfectly " tonisli me," said Lady Montfort. " I shall begin to believe li « you have not so sweet a temperas I always supposed. "
"It matters not what my temper is."
"I think it matters a great deal. I like, above all things, to live with good-tempered people."
" I hope you may not be disappointed. My temper is my own affair, and I am content alwavs to be alone. "
"Why ! you are talking nonsense, Endymion,"
" Probably ; I do not pretend to be gifted. I am not one of those gentlemen who can not fail. I am not a man of the future."
'' Well ! I never was so surprised in my life," exclaimed Lr.dy Montfort. " I never will pretend to form an opinion of Imriian character again. Now, my dear Endymion, rouse your- self, and come back with me. Give me your arm. I can not stay another moment ; I dare say I have already been wanted a thousand times."
" I can not go back," said Endymion ; " I never wish to see anybody again. If you Avant an arm, there is the Count of Fer- roll, and I hope you may find he has a sweeter temper than I have."
Lady Montfort looked at him with a strange and startled
274
EXDYMIOX.
glance. It was a mixture of surprise, a little disdain, some af- fection blended witli mockery. And then exclaiming '•' Silly boy ! " she swept out of the room.
CHAPTER LXI.
'' I DO not like the i)rospcct of affairs," said Mr. Sidney Wilton to Endymion as they were posting up to London from Montfort Castle ; a long Journey, but softened in those days by many luxuries, and they had much to talk about.
''The decline of the revenue is not fitful; it is regular. Our people are too apt to look at the state of the revenue merely in a financial point of view. If a surplus, take off taxes ; if a deficiency, ptit them on. But the state of the revenue shotild also be considered as the index of the condition of the popitla- tion. According to my impression, the condition of the peo- l^le is declining ; and why ? because they are less employed. If this spreads, they will l.'ccome discontented and disaffected, and I c^n not help remembering that, if they become trouble- some, it is our ofiice that will have to deal with them."
" This bad harvest is a great misfortune," said Endvmion.
''Yes; but a bad harvosi, though unquestionably a great, perhaps the greatest misfortune for this country, is not the entire solution of our difilcttltics — I wotild say, our coming dif- ficulties. A bad harvest touches the whole of otir commercial system : it brings us face to face with the corn laws. I wish our chief would give his mind to that stibject. I believe a moderate fixed duty of about twelve shillings a quarter would satisfy every one, and nothing then could shake this country."
Endymion listened Avith interest to other views of his mas- ter, who descanted on them at much length. Private secre- taries know everything about tlieii" chiefs, and Endymion Avas not ignorant that among many of the great houses of the AYliig party, and indeed among the btilkof what was called " the Lib- eral" parly generally, Mr. Sidney Wilton was looked upon, so far as ecinomical questions were concerned, as very crotchety^
%^
END YMF ox AXD HIS CHIEF.
275
indeed a dangerous character. Lord jSIontfort was the only magnate who was entirely opposed to the corn laws, but then, as Berengaria would remark, '^ Simon is against all laws ; he is not a practical man."
Mr. Sidney Wilton reverted to these views more lliau once in the course of their journe\'. **I was not alarmed about the Chartists last year. Political trouble in this country never frightens me. Insurrections and riots strengthen an English government ; they gave a new lease even to Lord Liverpool when his ministry was most feeble and unpopular ; but eco- nomical discontent is (juitc imother thing. The monu'ut sedi- tion arises from taxation, or Avant of eni})loyment, it is more dangerous and more difficult to deal with in thi.-' country than any other."
" Lord Koehampton seemed to take rather a sanguine view of the situation after the Bed-Chaniber business in the spring," observed Endymion, rather in an inquiring thar. a dogmatic spirit.
"Lord Iioehampton has other things to think of," said Islv. Wilton. ''lie is absorbed, and naturally absorbed, in his department, the most important in the state, and of whiclj lie is master. But I am obliged to look at alfairs nearer honto. Now, this Anti-Corn-Law League, Avhich they established last year at ^Manchester, and which begins to lx> very busy, though nobody at present talks of it, is in my tuind a movement which ought to be watched. I tell you what ; it occurred to me more than once during that wondrous pageant, that we have just now been taking part in ; the governmert wants better infor- mation than they have as to the state and the country ; the real feelings and condition of the bulk of the popuhition. We Used to sneer at the Tories for their ignorance of these matters, but after all, we, like them, are mainly dependent on quarter sessions ; on the judgment of a lord-lieutenant and the statis- tics of a bench of magistrates. It is true avc have introduced into our subordinate administration at Whitehall some persons who have obtained the reputation of distinguished economists, and we allow them to guide us. But though ingenious men, no doubt, they are chiefly bankrupt tradesmen, who, not hav-
27G
EXDYMIOy.
ing been able to maniige tlieir own affairs, have taken upon tliemselves to advise on tlie conduct of the country — pedants and prigs at tlie best, and sometimes impostors. No ; tliis won't do. It is useless to speak to the chief ; I did about the Anti-Corn-Law League ; lie shrugged his shoulders, and said it was a madness that would pass. I have made up my mind to send somebody, quite privately, to the great scenes of na- tional labor. He must be somebody whom nobody knows, and nobody suspects of being connected with the administration, or we shall never get the truth— and the person I have fixed upon is yourself."
*' But am I equal to such a task ?" said Endymion modest- ly, but sincerely.
"I think so," said Mr. Wilton, *'or, of course, I would not have fixed upon you. I want a fresh and virgin intelligence to observe and consider tho country. It must be a mind free from prejudice, yet fairly informed on the great questions in- volved in tlie wealth of nations. I know you have read Adam Smith, and not lightly. Well, he is the best guide, though of course we must adapt his principles to the circumstances with w'ljch we iiavc to deal. You have good judgment, great in- dustry, a fairly quick perception, little passion — perhaps hard- ly encnigli ; but tliat is probably the consequence of the sor- rows and troubles of early life. But after all, there is no edu- cation like adversit}'."
''If it will only cease at the right time," said Endymion.
" Well, ill that respect, I do not think you have anything to compliiin of," said Mr. Wilton. **The world is all before you, and I mistake if you do not rise. Perseverance and tact arc the two qu;dities most valuable for all men Avho would mount, l)ut especially for those who have to step out of the pl'owd. T am sure no one can say you are not assiduous, but I \\\\\ lllllil Ulways to observe that you have tact. Without tact ytltl t;an learn nothing. Tact teaches you when to be silent. Inquirers who are always inquiring never learn anything."
i
I
I
f?
THE AXTI-COEX'LAW LEAGUE.
277
i
CIIAPTEU LXir.
Lancashire was not so Avondcrful a i)laco forty j'cars ago as it is at present, but, compared then witli tlio rest of Eng- land, it -was inlinitcly more striking. For a youtli like En- dymion, l)orn and bred in our southern counties, the Berk- f-liirc downs varied by tlic b istle of Pail-Mall and the Strand — Lancashire with ilH l(M'niing inid toiling cities, its colossal niiinurilelories and its gigantic chimneys, its roaring engincij and its flaming furnaces, its tramroads and its railroads, its coal and its cotton, offered a far greater contrast to tho econea in which he had hitherto lived, than could bo furnished by almost any country of the European continent
Endymion felt it was rather a crisis in his life, and that his future might much depend on the fulfillment of the confiden- tial office Avhich had been intrusted to him by his chief. IIo cummoncd all his energies, concentrated his intelligence on the one subject, and devoted to its study and comprehension every moment of his thought and time. After a Avhile, ho had mado jManchestcr liis headquarters. It was even then the center of a network of railways, and gave him an easy command of tho contiguous districts.
Endymion had more than once inquired after the Anti- Corn-Law League, but had not as yet been so fortunate as to attend any of their meetings. They were rarer then than they afterward soon became, and the great manufacturers did not encourage them. '" I do not like extreme views," said one of the most eminent one day to Endymion. *' Fn my opinion wo should always avoid extremes;" and ho paused and looked around, as if he had enunciated a heaven-born truth, and for the first time. "I am >,i liberal; so wo nil are here. I sup- ported Lord Grey, and I »^ii])port Lord ]\relbourne, and I am, in everything, for a liberal ])olicy. I don't like extremes. A wise minister should take off the duty on cotton wool. That is what the country really wants, and then everybody would i)e satisfied. No ; I know nothing aI)out this league you ask about, and I do not know any one — that is to say, any one re-
278
END YM ION'.
spccttiblo — wlio d(X -. Tlicy camo to mo lo lend my name. No, I said, gentlemen ; I feel much honored, hut I do not like extremes ; and they went away. They art making a little more noise now, because they have got a man who has the gift of tlie ^-ab, and the people like to go and hear liim speak. But as I said to a friend of mine, who seemed half inclined to join them, 'Well; if I did anything of that sort, I would be led by a Lancashire lad.' They have got a foreigner to lead them, a fellow out of Berkshire ; an agitator— and only a print-Avork after all. No ; that will never do. "
Notwithstanding these views, which Endymion found very generally entertained by the new world in which he mixed, ho resolved to take the earliest opportunity of attending the meet- ing of the league, and it soon arrived.
It was an evening meeting, so that workmen — or opera- tives, as they were styled in this part of the kingdom — should be able to attend. The assembly took place in a large but tem- porary building ; very well adapted to the human voice, and able to contain oven thousands. It was fairly full to-night ; and the platform, on which those who took a part in the proceedings, or who, by their comparatively influential presence, it was sup- posed, might assist the cause, wms almost crowded.
''He is going to speak to-night," said an operative to En- dymion. ''That is why there is such an attendance."
Remembering ^Ir. Wilton's hint about not asking unneces- sary questions which often arrest information, Endymion did not inquire who "he" Avas; and to promote communication merely obscrA'od, "A fine speaker, then, I conclude ?"
"Well, he is in a way," said the oi^erativo. "He has not got Ilollaballoo's voice, but he knows what ho is talking about. I doubt their getting what they are after ; they have not the working classes with them. If they Avent against truck, it Avould bo something."
The chairman opened the proceedings ; but Avas coldly ro- coiA'od, though he spoke sensibly and at some length. He then introduced a gentleman, Avho Avas absolutely an alderman, to moAT a resolution condemnatory of the corn laAVS. The august position of the speaker atoned for his halting rhetoric, and a
.1
I
JOB AS AX (JRATOIi.
2T0
city which luul only just for the first time been invcatccl with muuiciiuil privileges was hushed before a man who mi^lit in time even become a mayor.
Then the seconder advanced, aiid there Avas a general burst of applause.
''There he is," said the operative to Kndymion ; "you see they like him. Oh, Job knows how to do it ! ''
Endymion listened with interest, soon with delight, soou with a fcelirg of exciting and not unpleasing pei'plexity, to the orator ; for he was an orator, though then unrecognized, and known only in his district. lie was a i)ale and slender man, with a line brow and an eye that occasionally Hashed with the fire of a creative mind, llis voice certainly was not like llol- labidloo's. It was rather thin, but singularly clear. T'here was nothing clearer except his meaning. Endymion never heard a case stated with such pellucid art ; facts marshaled with such vivid simplicity, and inferences so natural and spon- taneous and irresistible, that they seemed, as it were, borrowed from his audience, though none of that audience had arrived at them before. The mectiiig was hushed, was rapt in intel- lectual delight, for they did not give the s})eaker the enthusi- asm of their sympathy. That was not shared, perhaps, by the moiety of those who listened to him. When his case Avas fairly before them, the spetdvcr dealt with his opponents — some in the press, some in Parliament — Avith much poAA'cr of sarcasm, but this poAver was evidently rather repressed than illowed to run riot. AVliat impressed Endymion as the chief quality of this remarkable speaker Avas his persuasiveness, and he had the air of being too prudent to offend even an opponent unneces- sarily. His language, though natural and easy, AA^as choice and refined. He Avas evidently a man avIio had read, and not a little ; and there Avas no taint of vulgarity, scarcely a pro- vincialism, in his pronunciation.
lie spoke for rather more than an lioui-; and frequently during this time, Endymion, notAvithstanding his keen interest in Avliat AA'as taking place, was troubled, it might be disturbed, by pictures and memories of the past that he endeavored in vam to driA'e aAvay. When the orator concluded, amid cheer-
^'*!.
^.
,^a^.
'^^.^.a?-
IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3)
1.0
!.l
1.25
1.8
1.4
V
%%
y
>>
#
#
?>'
r
Hiotographic
Sdences Corporation
33 WEST MAIN STREET
WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580
(716) 872-4503
\
•^
'^vN
V
^q)
.V
O^
4l&
2S0
ENDYMIOX.
ing mucli louder than tliat which liad first greeted him, En- dymion, in a rather agitated voice, whispered to his neighbor, *' Tell me — is his name Thornberry ?"
"That is your time of day," said the operative. "Job Thornberry is his name, and I am on his works."
"And yet you do not agree with him ?"
"Well ; I go as far as he goes, but he does not go so far as I go ; that's it."
"I do not see how a man can go much farther," said En- dymion. " Where are his works ? I knew your master when he was in the south of England, and T should like to call on him."
"My employer," said the operative. "They call them- selves masters, but we do not. T will tell you. His works are a mile out of town ; but it seems only a step, for there are houses all the way. Job Thornberry tSi Go's. Print-works, Pen- dleton Road — any one can guide you — and when you get there, you can ask for me, if you lilve. I am his overlooker, and my name is Exocii Craggs."
I
CHAPTER LXIII.
"You are not much altered," said Thornbeny, as ho re- tained Endymion's hand, and he looked at him earnestly ; " and yet you have become a man. I suppose I am ten years your senior. I have never been back to the old place, iud yet I sometimes think I should like to be buried there. The old man has been here, and more than once, and liked it well enough ; at least, I hope so. He told me a good deal about 3-0U all ; some sorrows, and, I hope, some joys. I heard of Mi.<s ^Myra's marriage ; she was a sAveet young lady ; the gravest person I ever knew ; I never knew her smile. I remember they thought her proud, but I always had a fancy for her. Well ; she has married a topsawyer — I believe the ablest of them all, .and probably the most unprincipled ; though I ought not to .say that to you. However, public men are spoken freely of.
1
•s
I
I
JOB TJIORXBEIiliY'S HOME.
2S1
I wisli to hciivcn you would got liim to leave off tinkering- tliose commercial treaties that lie is always making such a fuj-s jiljout. More pernicious nonsense was never devised by man than trea- ties of commerce. However, (heir i)recious most favored nation clause will break down the whole concern yet. 15ut you wish to see the Avorks ; I will &how them to you myself. There is not much going on now, and the stagnation increases daily. And then, if you are willing, we will go home and have a bit of lunch — I live hard by. ^My best works are my wife and chil- dren : I have made that joke before, as you can well fancy."
This was the greeting, sincere but not unkind, of Job Thornberry to Endymion on tho day after the meeting of the Anti-Corn-Law League. To Endymion it was an interesting, and, as he believed it would prove, a useful encounter.
The print-works were among the most considerable of their kind at Manchester, but they were working now with reduced numbers and at half time. It was the energy and the taste and invention of Thornberry that had given them their reputation, and secured them extensive markets, lie had worked with borrowed capital, but had paid off his debt, aiul his establish- mei.t was now his own ; but, stimulated by his success, he had made a consignment of large amount to the United States, Avhere it arrived only to be -welcomed by what was called the American crasii.
Turning from the high road, a Avalk of half a mile brought them to a little world of villas ; varying in style and size, but all pretty, and each in its garden. " And this is my home," said Thornberry, opening the wicket, " and here is my mistress and the young folks " — pointing to a pretty woman, but with an expression of no inconsiderable self-confidence, and with sev- eral children clinging to her dress and hiding their faces at the unexpected sight of a stranger. "' My eldest is a boy, but ho is at school," said Thornberry. " I have named him after one of the greatest men that ever lived, John Hampden."
"He was a landed proprietor," observed Endymion, rather dryly; "and a considerable one."
•* I have brought an old friend to take cheer with us," con- tinued Thornberry ; " one whom I knew before any here pres-
282
EXDYMION.
cnt ; so show your faces, little people ; " and he caught up one of the children, a fair child like its mother, long-haired and blushing like a AVorcestershire orchard before harvest time. " Tell the gentleman what you are."
*' x\ free-trader," murmured the infant.
Within the house were several shelves of books well selected, and the walls were adorned Avith capital prints of famous works of art. *' They are chiefly what are calbd books of reference," said Thornberry, as Endymion was noticing his volumes ; " but I have not much room, and, to tell you the truth, they are not merely books of reference to me — I like reading encyclopaBdias. The ' Dictionary of Dates ' is a favorite book of mine. The mind sometimes wants tone, and then I read Milton. He is the only poet I read — he is complete, and is enougli. I have got his prose works too. Milton was the greatest c^ English- men."
The repast was simple, but plenteous, and nothing could be neater tlian the manner in which it was served.
''We are teetotalers," said Thornberry; ''but we can give you a good cup of coffee."
" I am a teetotaler too at this time of the day," said Endym- ion ; "but a good cup of coffee is, they sa}', the most delicious and the rarest beverage in the Avorld."
"Well," continued Tliornberry, "it is a long time since we met Mr. Ferrars — ten years. I used to think tliat in ten years one might do anytliing ; and a year ago, I really thought I had done it ; but the accursed laws of this blessed country, as it calls itself, have nearly broken me, as they have broken many a better man before me. "
"I am sorry to hear this," said Endymion ; "I trust it is but a passing cloud."
"It is not a cloud," said Tliornberry; "it is a storm, a tempest, a wreck — but not only for me. Your great relative, my Lord Roehampton, must look to it, I can tell you that. What is happening in this country, and is about to liappen, will not be cured or averted by commercial treaties — mark my words."
" But what would cure it ? " said Endymion.
"There is only one thing that can cure this country, and
FREE EXCUAXOE.
2S3
it will soon be too late for that. We must have free ex- change."
"Free exchange !" murnuired Endymion, thoughtfully.
"Why, look at this," said Thornbcrry. "I had been driv- ing a capital trade with the States for nearly five years. I be- gan with nothing, as you know. I had paid off all my borrowed capital ; my works were my own, and tliis house is u freehold. A year ago I sent to my correspondent at New York the largest consignment of goods I had ever made and the best, and I can not get the slightest return for them. My correspondent writes to me that there is no end of corn and breadstuffs which lie could send, if avc could only receive them ; but he knows very well he might as well trv and send them to the moon. The people here are starving and Avant tliese breadstuffs, and tliey are ready to pay for them by the i)roducts of their labor — and your blessed laws prevent them ! "
"But these laws did not prevent your carrying on a thriv- ing trade with America for five years, according to your own account," said Endymion. " I do not question Avhat you say ; I am asking only for information."
" AMuit you say is fairly said, and it has been said before," replied Tliornberry ; "but there is nothing in it. We liad a trade, and a thriving trade, with the States ; though, to be sure, it was always fitful, and ought to have been ten times as much, even during those five years. But the fact is, the state of affairs in America was then exceptional. They were em- barked in great public works in wliich every one was investing his cai)ital ; shares and stocks abounded, and they paid us for our goods with them."
"Then it would rather seem that they have no capital now to spare to purchase our goods ? "
" Not so," said Tliornberry, shar})ly, " as I have shown ; but were it so, it docs not affect my principle. If there were free exchange, we should find employment and compensation in other countries, even if the States were logged, which I don't believe thirty millions of people with boundless territory ever can be."
" But after all," said Endymion, " America is as little in
2S4:
ENDYMIOK
favor of free cxcliange as we arc. Slie may send us her bread- stuffs ; but licr laws will not admit our goods, except on the l)ayment of enormous duties."
'Tisli !"' said Tliornberry ; "I do not care this for their enormous duties. Let me have free imports, and I will soon settle their duties."
" To fight hostile tariffs with free imports/' said Endymion ; '* is not that fighting against odds ? "
*'Xot a bit. This country has nothing to do but to con- eider its imjiorts. Foreigners will not give us their products for nothing ; but as for their tariffs, if avc were wise men, and looked to our real interests, their hostile tariffs, as 3'ou call them, would soon be falling down like an old wall."
*'Well, I confess," said Endymion, "I have for some time thought the principle of free exchange was a sound one ; but its application in a country like this would be very difficult, and -require, I should think, great prudence and moderation."
"By prudence and moderation you mean ignorance and timidity," said Thornberry, scornfuU}-.
**Not exactly that, I hope," said Endymion; ''but you can not deny that the home market is a most important ele- ment in the consideration of our public wealth, and it mainly rests upon the agriculture of the country."
'' Then, it rests upon a very poor foundation," said Tliorn- bcrr}'. "But if any persons should be more tempted than others by free exchange, it should be the great body of the consumers of this land, Avho pay unjust and excessive prices for every article they require. No, my dear Mr. Ferrars ; the question is a very simple one, and we may talk for ever, and we shall never alter it. The laws of this country are made by the proprietors of land, and they make them for their own benefit. A man Avith a large estate is said to have a great stake in the country because some hundreds of people or so are more or less dependent on him. How has he a greater inter- est in the country than a manufacturer who has sunk £100,000 in machinery, and has a thousand people, as I had, receiving from him weekly wages ? No home market, indeed ! Pali ! it is an affair of rent, and nothing more nor less. And England
ft'
EXOCn CRAGGS.
2S5
is to be ruined to keo]) up rents. Arc you going ? Well, I am glad we have met. Perhaps we shall have another talk to- gether some day. I shall not return to the works. There is little doing there, and I must think now of other things. Tho subscriptions to the league begin to come in apace. Say what they like in the House of Commons and the vile London press, the thing is stirring."
Wishing to turn tlic conversation a little, Endymion asked Mrs. Thornberry whether she occasio?>ally went to London.
*' Never was there," she said, in a sharp, clear voice ; "but I hope to go soon."
" You will have a great deal to see."
''All I want to sec, and hear, is the Rev. Servctus Frost," replied the lady. " My idea of perfect happiness is to hear him every Sunday, lie comes here sometimes, for his sister is settled here ; a very big mill. He preached here a month ago. Should not I have liked the bishop to have heard him, that's all ! But he would not dare to go ; he could not answer a point."
"My wife is of the Unitarian persuasion," said ThornbeiTy. " I am not. I was born in our Church, and I keep to it ; but I often go to chapel with my wife. As for religion generally, if a man believe in his Maker and docs his duty to his neigh- bor, in my mind that is sufficient."
Endymion bade them good-by, and strolled musingly to- ward his hotel.
Just as he reached the works again, he encountered Enoch Craggs, who was walking into Manchester.
''I am going to our institute," said Enoch. "I do not know why, but they have put me on the committee."
''And, I doubt not, they did very wisely," paid Endymion.
"Master Thornberry was glad to sec you ?" said Enoch.
"And I was glad to sec liim."
"He has got the gift of speech," said Enoch.
"And that is a great gift."
" If wisely exercised, and I will not say he is not exercising it wisely. Ce^lainly for his own purpose, but whether that purpose is for the general good — query ? "
E^DYMION.
is agiiinsu monopoly," observed Eiulymion, inqiiir-
2S6 "Ik
" Query again ?" said Enoch.
** "Well ; lie is opposed to the corn laws."
**Thc corn laws are very bad laws," said Enoch, ''and the sooner we get rid of them the better. But there arc worse things than the corn laws."
''Hem ! " said Endymion.
''There are the money laws," said Enoch.
"I did not know you cared so mucli about them at Man- chester," said Endymion. "I thought it was Birmingham that was chiefly interested about currency."
"I do not care one jot about currency," said Enoch; "and, so far as I can judge, the Birmingham cliaps talk a deal of nonsense about tlic matter. Lcast\vir-e, they will never convince me tliat a slip of irredeemable paper is as good as the young queen's head on a twenty-shilling piece. I mean the laws that secure the accumulation of capital, by which means the real producers become mere hirelings, and really arc little better than slaves."
"But surely without capital we should all of us be little better than slaves ? "
"I am not against capital," replied Enoch. "What I am against is capitalists."
"But if we get rid of capitalists we shall soon get rid of capital."
"No, no," said Enoch, with his broad accent, shaking his head, and with a laughing eye. "Master Thornberry has been telling you that. He is the most inveterate capitalist of the whole lot ; and I always say, though they keep aloof from him at present, they will be all sticking to his skirts before long. Master Thornberry is against the capitalists in land ; but there are other capitalists nearer home, and I know more about them. I was reading a book the other day about King Charles — Charles the First, whose head they cut off — I am very liking 1 >) Hiiit time, and read a good deal about it ; and there was Lord Falkland, a great gentleman in those days, and he said, when Archbishop Land was trying on some of his priestly
COOPKRATIOX.
i>s:
tricks, that * if lie were to luivc a pope, lie would rather the ])ope Avcre at Rome than at Lambeth.' So I sometimes think, if we are to be ruled by capitalist.^, I would sooner, perhaps, be ruled by gentlemen of estate, who have been long among us, than by persons who build big mills, who come from (iod knows whence, and when they have worked their millions out of our flesh and bone, go God knows where. But perhaps wo shall get rid of them all some day — landlords and mill-lords.''
''And whom will you substitute for them ?*'
**The producers," said Enoch, with a glance half savage, half triumphant.
" What can workmen do without capital ?*'
''Why, they make the capital," said Enoch ; "and if they make the capital, is it not strange that they should not be able to contrive some means to keep the capital ? AVliy, Job was saying the other day that there Avas nothing like a principle to work upon. It would carry all before it. So say I. And I have a princii)le too, though it is not Master Thornberry's. But it Avill carry all before it, though it may not be in my time. But I am not so sure of that."
"And what is it ?" asked Endymion.
"Cooperation."
am
of
his I has It of fom pro
Id; lore ling
CHAPTER LXIV.
Tins strangely revived acquaintance with Job Thornberry was not an unfruitful incident in the life of Endymion. Thornberry was a man of original mind and singular energy ; and, although of extreme views on commercial subjects, all his conclusions were founded on extensive and various informa- tion, combined with no inconsiderable practice. The mind of Thornberry was essentially a missionary one. He was always ready to convert people ; and he acted with ardor and interest on a youth who, both by his ability and his social position, was qualified to influence opinion. But this youth was gifted with a calm, wise judgment, of the extent and depth of which he was scarcely conscious himself ; and Thornberry, like all propa-
288
ENDYMIOX.
p^anristf
was more rcmarkaMc for liis zciil and lii.s convictionf?, lliaii for tliat observation and perception of eliaractcr wliicli arc tlie finest elements in tlie management of men and adairs.
" What you should do," said Thornberry, one day to En- dymion, *' is to go to Scotland ; go to the Glasgow district ; that city itself, and Paisley, and Kilmarnock — keep your eye on Paisley. I am much mistaken if there will not soon be a state of things there which alone will break up the whole con- cern. It will burst it, sir ; it will burst it."
So Endymion, without saying anything, quietly went to ClasgoAvand its district, and noted enough to make him re- solve soon to visit there again ; but the cabinet reassembled in the early part of November, and he had to return to his duties.
In his leisure hours, Endymion devoted himself to the prep- aration of a report, for Mr. Sidney Wilton, on the condition and prospects of the manufacturing districts of the north of England, with some illustrative reference to that country be- yond the Tweed. lie concluded it before Christmas, and Mr. Wilton took it down with him to Gaydene, to study it at his leisure. Endymion passed his holidays with Lord and Lady Montfort, at their southern seat, Princedown.
Endymion spoke to Lady Montfort a little about his labors, for he had no secrets from her ; but she did not much sympa- thize with him, though she liked him to bo sedulous and to distinguish himself. "Only," she observed, ''take care not to be doctrinaire, Endymion. I am always afraid of that with you. It is Sidney's fault ; he always was doctrinaire. It was a great thing for you becoming his private secretary ; to be the private secretary of a cabinet minister is a real step in life, and I shall always be most grateful to Sidney, whom I love for ap- pointing you ; but stili, if I could have had my wish, you should have been Lord Roehampton's private secretary. That is real politics, and he is a real statesman. You must not let Mr. Wilton mislead you about the state of affairs in the cabi- net. The cabinet consists of the prime minister and Lord Roehampton, and, if they are united, all the rest is vapor. And they will not consent to any nonsense about touching the corn laws ; you may be sure of that. Besides, I will tell you a
TRADE AND FIXANCE.
281>
secret, wliicli i.s not yet Pulchincllo's secret, thou^^h I daie say it will be known wlieii we all return to town — we shall have u jrreat event when Parliament meets ; a roval niarriaw. What think you of that ? The youn^ queen i.s going to be married, and to a young i)rince, like a prince in a fairy tale. As Lord Roehampton wrote to me this morning, 'Our royal marriage will be much more popular than the Anti-C'orn-Law Leagui'."*
The royal marriage was very pojjular ; but, unfortunately, it reflected no splendor on the ministry. The world ble-sed the queen and cheered the prince, but shook its head at tlio government. Sir Kobcrt Peel also — whether from his own motive, or the irresistible impulse of his party need not now be inquired into — sanctioned a direct attack on the government, in the shape of a vote of want of confidence in them, immedi- ately the court festivities were over, and the attack was de- feated by a narrow majority.
"Nothing could be more unprincipled," said Berengaria, ''after lie had refused to take oflice last year. As for our ma- jority, it is, under such circumstances, twenty times more than wc want. As Lord Roehampton says, one is enough."
Trade and revenue continued to decline. There was again the prospect of a deficiency. The ministry, too, was kept in by the Irish vote, and the Irish then were very unpopular. The cabinet itself generally was downcast, and among them- selves occasionally murmured a regret tliat tliey had not re- tired Avhen the opportunity offered in the j^cceding year. Berengaria, however, would not bate an inch of confidence and courage. "You think too much," she said to Endymion, "of trade and finance. Trade always comes back, and finance- never ruined a country-, or an individual cither if he had pluck. Mr. Sidney Wilton is a croaker. The things he fears will never happen ; or, if they do, Avill cu^n out to bo unimportant. Look to Lord Roehampton ; ho is the man. He does not care a rush whether the revenue increases or declines. He is think- ing of real politics ; foreign affairs ; maintaining our power in Europe. Something will happen, before the session is over, in the Mediterranean ; " and she pressed her finger to her lip, and then she added, " The country will support Lord Roehampton, 18
200
EXD YMIOX.
as tlicy Rupportcil Pitt, and give him an} amount of taxes that he likes."
In the mean time, tlic social world had its incidents as well as the political, and not less interesting. One of the n)ost in- signilicant, perhaps, was the introduction into society of the Countess of Beaumaris. Her husband, sacrificing even his hunting, had come up to town at the meeting of Parliament, and received his friends in a noble mansion on Piccadilly Ter- race. All its equipments were sumi)tuous and refined, and everything had been arranged under the personal supervision of Mr. Waldershare. They commenced very quietly ; dinners little but constant, and graceful and finished as a banrpiet of AVattcDU ; no formal invitations ; men were biought in to din- ner from the House of Lords ** just up," or picked up, as it vv'cre carelessly, in the House of Commons by Mr. Waldershare, or were asked by Imogene, at a dozen hours' notice, in billets of irresistible simplicity. Soon it was whispered about, that the thing to do was to dine with Beaumaris, and that Lady Beaumaris was '^ something too delightful." Prince Florcstan frequently dined there ; AValdersharo always there, in a state of coruscation ; and every man of fashion in the opposite ranks, especially if they had brains.
Then, in a little time, it was gently hoped that Imogene should call on their wives and mothers, or their wives and moth- ers call on her ; and then she received, without any formal in- vitation, twice a week ; and as there was nothing going on in London, or nothing half so charming, everybody who was any- body came to Piccadilly Terrace ; and so as, after long obser- vation, a new planet is occasionally discovered by a philosopher, thus society suddenly and indubitably discovered that there Avas at last a Tory house.
Lady Roehampton, duly apprised of affairs by her brother, had called on Lord and Lady Beaumaris, and had invited them to her house. It was the first appearance of Imogene in gen- eral society, and it was successful. Her large brown eyes, and long black lashes, her pretty mouth and dimple, her wondrous hair — which, it was whispered, unfolded, touched the ground — struck every one, and the dignified simplicity of her carriage
LADY DEAUMAIil^i.
201
KS,
other, tlieni gen- is, and idrous |rronnd irmge
was attractive. Tier liusband never left her side ; wliile Vlw Walder.sliare was in every pai't of tlie saloon.s, watching hi-r from distant jjoints, to see how she got on, or catching the re- marks of others on her appearance, ^fyra was kind to lier as well as courteous, and, wlien tlie stream of arriving guests liad gomewliat ceased, sought lier out and spoke to lier ; and t!ien put lier arm in liers, walked with lier fm* a moment, and intro- duced her to one or two great personages, who had previously intimated their wish or tlieir consent to that effect. Lady Montfort was not one of these. When parties are ecpial, and the struggle for power is intense, society loses much of its sym- pathy and softness. Lady Montfort could endure the i)resence of Tories, provided they were her kinsfolk, and would join, even at their houses, in traditionary festivities ; hut she shrunk from passing the line, and at once had a prejudice against Imo- gene, whom she instinctively felt might become a power for the enemy.
"I will not have you talk so much to that Lady Beauma- ris," she said to Endymion.
"She is an old friend of mine," he replied.
** How could you have known her? She was a shop-girl, was not she, or something of that sort ?"
" She and her family were very kind to mo when I was not much better than a shop-boy myself," replied Endymion, with a mantling check. "They are most respectable people, and I have a great regard for her."
"Indeed! Well; I will not keep you from your Tory woman," said Berengaria, rudely ; and she walked away.
Altogether, this season of —10 was not a very satisfactory one in any respect, as regarded society or the country in gen- eral. Party passion was at its highest. The ministry retained office almost by a casting vote ; were frequently defeated on important questions ; and whenever a vacancy occurred, it was filled by their ojiponents. Their unpopularity increased daily, and it was stimulated by the general distress. All that Job Thornberry had predicted as to the state of manufacturing Scotland duly occurred. Besides manufacturing distress, they had to encounter a series of bad harvests. Never was a body
li , I
292
EXDYMION.
of statesmen placed in u more embarrassing and less enviable j)Osition. There M'as a prevalent, thougb unfounded, convic- tion that they Avero maintained in power by a combination of court favor with Irish sedition.
Lady ^lontfort and Lord Eoehampton were the only i>er- sons who never lost heart. She was defiant ; and he ever smiled, at least in public. " What nonsense ! " she would say. " ^Ir. Sidney Wilton talks about the revenue falling off ! As if tlio revenue could ever really fall off ! And then our bad liarvests. Wiiv, that is the vcrv reason we shall have an excel- lent harvest this year. You can not go on always having bad harvests. 15esides, good harvests never make a ministry popu- lar. Xobody thanks a ministry for a good harvest. What makes a ministry popular is some great coup in foreign affairs."
Amid all these exciting disipiiotudes, Endymion pursued a life of enjoyment, but also of observation and much labor. Ho lived more and more with the Montforts, but the friendship o( Berengaria was not frivolous. Though she liked him to bo seen Avhere he ought to figure, and required a great deal of at- tention herself, she ever impressed on him that his present life was only a training for a future career, and that his mind should ever bo fixed on the attainment of r. high position. Particularly she impressed on him the importance of being a linguist. ''There will be a reaction some day from all this political economy," she would say, '' and then there Avill be no one ready to take the helm." Endymion was not unworthy of the inspiring interest which Lady Montfort took in him. The terrible vicissitudes of his early years had gravely impressed his character. Though ambitious, ho was prudent ; and, though born to please and be pleased, he was sedulous and self-re- strained. Though naturally deeply interested in the fortunes of his political friends, and especially of Lord Eoehampton and Mr. Wilton, a careful scrutiny of existing circumstances had prepared him for an inevitable change ; and, remembering what was their position but a few years back, he felt that his s'ster and himself should be reconciled to their altered lot, and be content. She would still 'ue a poovcss, and the happy wife of un illustrious n an : and he himself, though he would have to
THE GUEAT COUP.
203
lincl ioii.
ig a
|
)Ugll f-re- |
1 |
|
uncb |
|
|
and |
|
|
had |
|
|
what |
|
|
s'stcr |
|
|
d be |
|
|
fc of |
y| |
|
,YC to |
relapse into (he drudgery of u ]mlilie oHice, avouUI meot duties the discluirge of which was oiief the object of liis ambi- tion, coupled now witli an adequate income and witli many friends.
And among those friends, tlieiv were none witli whom ho maintained hi.s relations more intimately than with the Xeu- eluitel?. lie was often their guest both in town and at Hai- nault, and he met them freiiuently in .society, always at the receptions of Lady Montfort and his sister. Zenobia used sometimes to send him a card ; l,)ut these condescending recog- nitions of late had ceased, jjarticuhirly as the great dame licard he was ''always at that Lady Beaumaris's." One of the social incidents of his circle, not the least interesting to him, was tlic close attendance of Adriana and her mother on the ministra- tions of Nigel Penruddock. They h.ad become among the most devoted of his flock ; and this, too, when the rapid and start- ling development of his sacred oiliccs had so alarmed the easy, though sagacious, Lord Roelumijiton, that he had absolutely cxjiressed his wish to ^[yra that she should rarely attend them, and, indeed, gradually altogether drop a habit which might ul- timately compromise her. Bcrengaria had long ago <piitted him. This was attributed to her reputed caprice, yet it was not so. *' I like a man to be practical," she said. ''When I asked for a deanery for him the other da}', the prime minister said he could hardly make a man a dean wlio believed in the Keal Presence." Kigel's church, however, Avas more crowded than ever, and a large body of the clergy began to look upon him as the coming man.
Toward the end of the year the "great cnnp in foreign af- fairs," which Lady ^lontfort had long brooded over, and in- deed foreseen, occurred, and took the world, who were all till!;" iUg of something else, entirely by surjjrise. A tripartite alliance of great powers had suddenly startv;d into life ; the Egyptian host was swept from the conquered plains of Asia Minor and Syria by English blue-jackets ; St. .lean d'Acre, which had baffled the great Xapoleon, was bombarded and taken by a British fleet ; and the whole fortunes of the world in a moment seemed changed, and jiermanently changed.
294
ENDYMION.
"I am glad it did not occur in the season," said Zenobia. "I really could not stand Lady Montfort if it were Maj\"
The ministry was elate, and their Christmas was right merry. There seemed good cause for this. It was a triumph of diplo- matic skill, national valor, and administrative energy. Myra was prouder of her husband than ever, and, amid all the excite- ment, he smiled on her with sunny fondness. Everybody con- gratulated hor- She gave a little reception before the holidays, to which everybody came who was in town or passing through. Even Zenobia appeared ; but she staid a very short time, talk- ing very rapidly. Prince Elorestun paid his grave devoirs, with a gaze Avhich seemed always to search into Lady Roehampton's inmost heart, yet never lingering about her ; and Waldershare, full of wondrous compliments and conceits, and really enthusi- astic, for he ever sympathized with action ; and Imogene, gor- geous with tlie Beaumaris sapphires ; and Sidney Wilton, who kissed his hostess's hand, and Adriana, who kissed her cheek.
'* I tell you Avhat, Mr. Endymion," said Mr. Kcuchatel, ^' you should make Lord Koehampton your Chancellor of the Exchequer, and then your government might perhaps go on a httle."
CHAPTER LXV.
But, as Mr. Tadpole observed, with much originality, at the Carlton, they were dancing on a volcaiio. It was Decem- ber, and the harvest was not yet all got in, the spring corn had never grown, and the wheat was rusty ; there was, he well kncAV, another deficiency in the revenue, to be counted ])y mil- lions ; wise men shook their heads and said the trade was leav- ing the country, and it Avas rumored that the whole population of Paisley lived on the rates.
'' Lord Roehampton thinks that something must be done about the corn laws," murmured Berengaria one day to En- dymion, rather crestfallen ; " but they will try sugar and tim- ber first. I think it all nonsense, })ut nonsense is sometimes necessary."
J
y, at
Iceni-
liad
well
mil-
lleav-
lation
I done
En-
tim-
times
A CRITICAL STRUGGLE.
295
Tliis Avas the first warning of that famous budget of 184:1 which led to such vast consequences, and wliich, directly or in- directly, gave such a new form and color to English politics. Sidney Wilton and his friends were at length all powerful in the cabinet because, in reality, there was nobody to oppose them. The vessel was water-logged. The premier shrugged his shoul- ders ; and Lord Eoehampton said : "^ We may as well try it, because the alternative is, we shall have to resign."
Affairs went on badly for the ministry during the early part of the session. Tliey were more than once in a minority, and on Irisli rnestions, wliich then dcci)ly interested the country ; but they had resolved that their fate should be decided by their financial measures, and Mr. Sidney Wilton and his friends were still sanguine as to the result. On the last day of April the Chancellor of the Exchequer introduced the budget, and pro- posed to provide for the deficiency by reducing the protective duties on sugar and timber. A few days after, the leader of the House of Commons himself announced a change in the corn- laws, and the intended introduction of grain at various-priced duties per quarter.
Tiien commenced the struggle of a month. Ultimately, Sir Robert Peel himself gave notice of a resolution of a want of confidence in the ministry ; and after a week's debate it was carried, in an almost complete house, by a majority of
*^one!"
It was generally supposed that the ministry would immedi- ately resign. Their ncAV measures had not revived their popu- larity, and the Parliament in which they had been condemned had been elected under tlieir own advice and influence. Mr. Sidney AVilton had even told Endymion to get their papers in order ; and all around the somewhat dejected private secretary there were unmistakable signs of that fatal flitting which is peculiarly sickening to the youthful politician.
He was breakfasting in his rooms at the Albany with not a good appetite. Although he had for some time contemplated the possibility of such changes — and contemplated them, as he thought, with philosophy — when it came to reality and prac- tice, he found his spirit was by no means so calm, or his cour-
290
ENDYMIOy.
:igc so firm, as lio liad counted on. The cliarms of office ar- rayed themselves before hiin. The social influence, the secret information, the danger, the dexterity, the ceaseless excite- ment, the delights of jiatronage Avhicli everybody affects to dis- regard, the power of benefiting others, and often the wortliy iind unknown wliich is a real Joy — in eight-and-forty hours or fjo, all these, to which he had now been used for some time, und which with his plastic disposition had become a second nature — were to vanish, and probably never return. AVhy should they ? lie took tlie gloomiest view of the future, and his inward soul acknowledged that the man the couttry wanted was Peel. Why might he not govern as long as Pitt ? lie probably Avould. Peel ! his father's frii'ud ! And this led to a train of painful but absorbing memories, and he snt musing and abstracted, fiddling with an idle egg-spoon.
Ilis servant came in with a note, which he eagerly opened. It ran thus: "I must see j'ou instantly. I am here in the brougham, Cork Street end, come directly. B. M."
Endymion had to Avalk up half the Albany, and marked the brougham the whole way. There was in it an eager and radi- ant face.
*'Yon had better get in," said Lady Montfort, *'for in these stirring times some of the enemy may be passing. And now," she continued, when the door Avas fairly shut, "nobody knows it, not five people. They are going to dissolve."
'' To dissolve ! " exclaimed Endymion. " Will that help
ITS
9"
"Very likely," said Berengaria. "We have had our share of bad luck, and now we may throw in. Cheap bread is a fine cry. Indeed it is too shocking that there should be laws which add to the price of what everybody agrees is the staff of life. But you do nothing but stare, Endymion : I thought you "Would be in a state of the greatest excitement ! "
" I am rather stunned than excited."
" Well ; but you must not be stunned, you must act. This is a crisis for our party, but it is something more for 3'ou. It is your climacteric. They may lose ; but you must win, if jou will only bestir yourself. See the whips directly, a^:id get
J
REAL FRIENDS.
207
:lp
his
It
if
ret
the most certain scat you can. Xothiiig must prevent your being in the new Parliament."
" I see everything to i)revent it," said Endymion. " I liave no means of getting into Parliament — no means of any kind."
*' Means must he found," ;-aid Lady Montfort. '• We can not stop now to talk about mcan^^. That Avould be a m^^re Ava.stc of time. The thing must ])e done. I am now going to your sister, to consult with her. All you have got to do is to make up your mind that you will bo in the next Parliament, and you will succeed ; for everything in this world dei)ends upon will."
"'i think everything in this world depends upon woman," said Endymion.
"It is the same tiling," said Berenizaria.
Adriana was with Lady Roehampton when Lady Montforfc was announced.
Adriana came to console ; but she herself was not without solace, for, if there were a change of government, she Avoukl see more of her friend.
"AVell; I was prepared for it," said Lady Roehampton. "I have always been expecting something ever since what they called the Bedchamber Plot."
*' Well ; it gave us two years," said Lady Montfort ; '■' and we are not out vet."
Here were three women, young, beautiful, and powerful, and all friends of Endymion — real friends. Property docs not consist merely of parks and palaces, broad acres, funds in many forms, services of plate, and collections of pictures. The ad'ec- tions of the heart are property, and the sympathy of the riglit person is often worth a good estate.
These three charming women were cordial, and embraced each other when they met ; but the conversation flagged, and the penetrating eye of Myra read in the coajtenance of Lady Montfort the urgent need of confidence.
"So, dearest Adriana," said Lady Roehampton, "we will drive out together at three o'clock. I will call on you." And Adriana disappeared.
"You know it?" said Lady iMontfort, when they were
298
ENDYMIOK
alone. "Of course you know it. Besides, I know you know it. What I have come about isi this : your brother must be in the new Parliament."
''I liave not seen liim ; I liave not mentioned it to him," said Myra, somewhat hesitatingly.
*' I have seen him ; I have mentioned it to him," said Lady Muntfort, decidedly. '* He makes difiiculties ; there must be none. He will consult you. I came on at once that you might be prepared. Xo difliculty must be tidmittcd. His future de- pends on it."
''I live for his future," said Lady Roehampton.
** He will talk to you about money. These things always cost money. As a general rule, nobody has money w'lio ought to have it. I know dear Lord Roehampton is very kind to you ; but, all his life, he never had too much money at his command ; though why, I never could make out. And my lord has always had too much money ; but I do not much care to talk to him about these affairs. The thing must be done. What is the use of diamond necklaces if you can not help a friend into Parliament ? But all I want now is that you Avill throw no dilTlculties in his w\ay. Help him, too, if you can."
"I wish Endymion had married," replied Myra.
''W^ell; I do not see how that would help affairs," said Lady Montfort. ''Besides, I dislike married men. They are very uninteresting."
"I mean, I wish," said Lady Roehampton, musingly, ''that he had made a great match."
"That is not very easy," said Lady Montfort, "and great matches are generally failures. All the married heiresses I have known have shipwrecked."
"And yet it is possible to marry an heiress and love her," said Myra.
"It is possible, but very improbable."
"I think one might easily love the person who has just left the room."
"MissNeuchatel?" >
" Adriana. Do not you agree with me ?"
IT MUST BE DOXEr
299
*'Miss Xeucluitel will never iiuirry," isaid Lady Montfort, *' unless she loses her fortune."
''Well ; do you know, I have sometimes thought that she liked Endymion ? I never could encourage such a feeling ; and Endymion, I am sure, would not. I wish, I almost Avish," added Lady Roehampton, trying to speak with playfulness, "that you would use your magic inlluence, dear Lady ^lont- fort, and bring it about. He would soon get into Parliament then."
''I luivo tried to marry Miss Neuchatel once," said Lady Montfort, with a mantling check, *'and I am glad to say I did not succeed. My match-making is over. "
There was a dead silence : one of those still moments which almost seem inconsistent with life, certainly with the presence of mure than one human being. Lady Roehampton seemed buried in deep thought. She was quite abstracted, her eyes fixed, and fixed upon the ground. All the history of her life passed through her brain — all the history of their lives ; from the nursery to this proud moment, proud even with all its searching anxiety. And yet the period of silence could be counted almost by seconds. Suddenly she looked up with a flushed cheek and a dazed look, and said, "It must be done."
Lady Montfort sprang forward with u glance radiant with hope and energy, and kissed her on both cheeks. " Dearest Lady Roehampton," she exclaimed, "dearest Myra ! I knew you would agree with me. Yes ! it must be done."
"You will sec him perhaps before I do ?" inquired Myra rather hesitatingly.
"I see him every day at the same time," replied Lady Montfort. "He generally walks down to the House of Com- mons with Mr. Wilton, and when they have answered ques- tions, and he has got all the news of the lobby, he comes to me. I always manage to get home from my drive to give him half an hour before dinner. "
300
BXDYMIOy.
CHAPTER LXVI.
Lady Moxtfort drove oIT to the private residence of the Secretary of tlie Treasury, wlio was of course in the great se- cret. She looked over h'S lists, examined his books, and seemed to have as much acquaintance with electioneering de- tails as tliat wily and experienced gentleman himself. "Is there anything I can do?" she repeatedly inquired; "com- mand me without compunction. Is it any use giving any par- ties ? Can I write any letters ? Can I sec anybody ?"
"If you could stir up my lord a little ?" said the secre- tary inquiringly.
""Well, tliat is difficult," said Lady Montfort, "perhaps impossible. But you have all his influence, and when there is a point that presses you must let me know."
" If he would only speak to his agents ? " said the secretary, **but they say ho will not, and he has a terrible fellow in
shire, who I hear is one of the stewards for a dinner to
Sir Robert."
"I have stopped all that," said Lady Montfort. "That was Odo's doing, who is himself not very sound ; full of preju- dices about O'Conncll, and all that stufT. But he must go with his party. You need not fear about him."
""Well ! it is a leap in the dark," said the secretary.
"Oh! no," said Lady Montfort, "all will go right. A starving peojile must be in favor of a government who will give them bread for nothing. By the bye, there is one thing, my dear Mr. Secretary, you must remember. I must have one seat, a certain seat, reserved for my nomination."
"A certain seat in these days is a rare gem," said the sec- retary.
"Yes, but I must have it nevertheless," said Lady Mont- fort. " I don't care about the cost or the trouble — but it must bo certain."
Then she went home and wrote a line to Endymion, to tell liii 1 that it was all settled, that she had seen his sister, who 4igrv}ed with her that it must be done, and that she had called
J
a
BIS^OLUTIOX.
301
on the Secretary of tlie Tiva-ury, tiiul luitl socurccl accrtiiiii seat. "I Avisli you could come to luncheon," she added, "hut I sup- pose that is impossible ; you are always so busy. Why were you not in the Foreign Olhce ? \ am now going to call on the Tory women to sec how they look, l)ut I shall be at home a good while before seven, and of course count on seeing you."
In the mean time, Endymion by no means shared the i)lea- surable excitement of his fair friend. His Avas an agitated walk from the Albany to AVhitehall, where he resumed his duties moody and disquieted. There was a large correspondence this morning, which was a distraction and a relief, until the bell of Mr. Sidney AVilton sounded, and he Avas in attendance on his chief.
'*It is a great secret," said Mr. Wilton, "but I think I ought to tell you ; instead of resigning, the government have decided to dissolve. I think it a mistake, but I stand by my friends. They belieA'e the Irish vote will be very large, and with cheap bread will carry us through. I think the stronger Ave shall be in Ireland the AA'caker aa'c shall be in England, and I doubt Avhethcr our cheap bread Avill be cheap enough. These Manchester associations have altered the aspect of affairs. I have been thinking a good deal about your position. I should like, before we broke up, to have seen you provided for by some permanent office of importance in which you might have been useful to the state, but it is difficult to manage these things suddenly. IIoAVCA'cr, now we liaA'e time at any rate to look about us. Still if I could liaA'e seen you permanently attached to this office in a responsible position, I should liaA'c been glad. I impressed upon the chief yesterday that you are most fit for it."
" Oh ! do not think of me, dear sir ; you Iuia'c been ahvays too kind to me. I shall be content Avitli my lot. All I shall re- gret is ceasing to serA'c j'ou."
Lady Montfort's carriage droA'e up to Montfort House just as Endymion reached the door. She took his arm Avitli eager- ness ; she seemed breathless with excitement. " I fear I am Tcry late, but if you had gone aAvay I should never have par- doned you. I liaA'e been kept by listening to all the noAv ap- pointments from Lady Bcllasyse. They quite think aa^c are out ;
302
ENDYMIOy.
you may be sure I did not deny it. I luive so mucli to tell you. Come into my lord's room ; he is away fishing. Think of fish- ing at such a crisis ! I can not tell you how pleased I was with my visit to Lady Roehampton. She quite agreed with me in every tiling. ^ It must be done/ she said. IIow very right ! and I have almo.ft done it. I will have a certain seat ; no chances. Let us '.uive something to fall back upon. If not in oflice we shall bj in opposition. All men must some time or other be in opposition. There you will form yourself. It is a great thing to have had some otlicial experience. It will save you from mares' nests, and I will give parties without end, and never rest till I see you prime minister."
So, she threw herself into her husband's easy chair, tossed her parasol on the tal)lo, and the): . ic said, '*Bnt what is the matter with you, Endymion ! you look rpiite sad. You do not mean you really take our defeat — Avhich is not certain yet — so much to heart. Believe me, ojiposition has its charms ; indeed I sometimes think the principal reason why I have enjoyed our ministerial life so much is, that it has been from the first a per- petual struggle for existence."
" I do not pretend to be quite indifferent to tJie probably impending change," said Endymion, '"'but I can not say there is anything about it which would affect my feelings very deeply."
" What is it then ? "
'* It is this business about which you and Myra are so kindly interesting yourselves," said Endymion, with some emotion ; *' I do not think I could go into Parliament."
*'Not go into Parliament!" exclaimed Lady Montfort. "Why, what are men made for except to go into Parliament ! I am indeed astounded."
*'I do not disparage Parliament," said Endymion ; "much the reverse. It is a life that I think would suit me, and I have often thought the day might come — "
" The day has come," said Lady Montfort, " and not a bit too soon. Mr. Fox went in before he was of age, and all young men of spirit should do the same. Why, you are two-and- twenty ! "
PRUDENCE.
303
**lt i.s not my ago,'' said Eiidyniioii, lit'sitatingly ; "lam not afraid about that, for from the life Avliich I have led of hite years, I know a good deal about the House of Commons."
"Then what is it, dear Eiidymion ?" said Lady Montfort impatiently.
" It will make a great change in my life," said Endymion, calmly, but with earnestness, "and one wliich T do not feel justified in accepting."
"I repeat to you, that you need give yourself no anxiety about the seat," said Lady Montfort. "It will not cost you .i shilling. I and your sister have arranged all that. As she very wisely said, ' It must be done,' and it is done. All you have to do is to write an address and make i)lcnty of speeches, and you are M. P. for life, or as long as you like."
"Possibly; a parliamentary adventurer ; I might swim or I might sink ; the chances are it would be the latter, for storms would arise, when those disappear who have no root in the country, and no fortune to secure them breathing time and a future."
"Well, I did not expect, when you handed mo out of my carriage to-day, that I was going to listen to a homily on pru- dence."
"It is not very romantic, I own," said Endymion, "but my prudence is at any rate not a commonplace caught up from copy-books, I am only two-and-twenty, but I have had some experience, and it has been very bitter. I have spoken to you, dearest lady, sometimes of my earlier life, for I wished you to be acquainted with it, but I observed also you always seemed to shrink from such confidence, and I ceased from touching on what I saw did not interest you."
" Quite a mistake. It greatly interested me. I know all about you and everything. I know you were not always a clerk in a public office, but the spoiled child of splendor. I know your father was a dear good man, but he made a mistake, and followed the Duke of Wellington instead of Mr. Canning. Had he not, he would probably be alive now, and certainly secretary of state, like Mr. Sidney Wilton. But you must not make a mistake, Endymion. My business in life, and your
3(14
IJXDYMIOy.
nistcr'.s too, is to ])revcnt your jiiakin;,' inistiikc.^. And 3-011 jiro on the cvo of nuikin;? a vcM-y preiit one if you loso this golden oi)i)ort unity. Do not think of tlio jxist ; you dwell on it too mueli. 15e like me, live in the present, luid when you dream, dream of the future."
"Ah ! the present Avould he ade([uate, it would he faseina- tion, if I always had sueh iicom})anion as Lady Montfort," said Endymion, shaking his head. " What surprises me most, what indeed astounds me, is that Myra should join in this counsel — ^[yra, who knows all, and who has felt it perha})s dee[)er even than I did. ]>ut I will not obtrude these thoughts on you, best and dearest of friends. I ought not to have made to you the allusions to my private position which I have done, but it seemed to me the only way to explain my conduct, othcrwiso incxidicable."
" And to whom ought you to say these things if not to me ?" said Lady Montfort, *' whom you called just now your best and dearest friend. I wish to be such to you. Perhajis I have been too eager, but, at any rate, it was eagerness for your welfare. Let us then be calm. Speak to mo as you would tc ]\ryra. I can not be your twin, but I can be your sister in feel-
ing.
j>
ITc took her hand and gently pressed it to his lips ; his eyes would have been bedewed, had not the dreadful sorrows and trials of his life much checked his native susceptibility. Then speaking in a serious tone, he said, " I ai.. not without ambi- tion, dearest Lady Montfort ; I have had visions Avhich would satisfy even you ; but partly from my temperament, still more perhaps from the vicissitudes of my life, I have considerable Avaiting powers. I think if one is patient and watches, all will come of which one is capable ; but no one can be patient Avho is not independent. My wants arc moderate, but their fulfill- ment must be certain. The break-up of the government, which deprives me of my salary as a private secretary, deprives me of luxuries which I can do without — a horse, a brougham, a stall at the play, a flower in my button-hole — but my clerkship is my freehold. As long as I possess it, I can study, I can work, I can watch and comprehend all the machinery of government.
WA uiiUisiiA A';; dklkhited.
30.")
I can move in society, witliout which ii })iiblic man, wlnitever his talents or acfiuiremont.^, is in life phiying at blindman's hnlT. I must sacrifice this citadel of my life if I go into Par- liament. Do not be ofTended, therefore, if I say to you, as I shall say to 3Iyra, I have made up my mind not to surrender it. It is true I have the misfortune to be a year older tlian Charles Fox when he entered the senate, but even with this great dif^ad vantage I am sometimes conceited enough to believe that I tjhall succeed, and to back mvself ii'^iinsL the. iield.''
CIIAFIER LXVIl.
I
«
Mr. Waldershare was delighted when the great secret Was out, and he found that the ministry intended to dissolve, and not resign. It was on a ^Monday that Lord John Kussell made this announcement, and Waldershare met Endyniion in the lobby of the House of Commons. ''I congratuhite you, my dear boy ; your fellows, at least, have pluck. If they lose, which I think tlicy will, they will have gained at least tlireo months of power, and irresponsible poAver. Why ! they inay do anything in the interval, and no doubt Avill. You will see ; they will make their chargers consuls. It boats the Bed- Chamber Plot, and I alwavs admired that. One hundred days ! Why, the Second Empire lasted only one hundred days. But, what days ! Avhat excitement ! They were worth a hun- dred 3'ears at Elba."
" Your friends do not seem quite so pleased as you are," said Endymion.
*' My friends, as you call them, arc old fogies, and want to divide the spoil among the ancient hands. It will be a great thing for Peel to get rid of some of these old friends. A dis- solution permits the powerful to show t\eir power. There is Beaumaris, for example ; now he will have an opportunity of letting them know who Lord Beaumaris is. I have a dream ; he must be Master of the Horse. I shall never rest till I see
306
ENDYMION'.
i
Imogcne riding in that golden coach, and breaking the line with all the honors of royalty. "
'^Mr. Ferrars," said the editor of a newspaper, seizing his watched-for opportunity as A\^aldershare and Endymion sepa- rated, **do you think you could favor me this evening with Mr. Sidney Wilton's address ? "We have always supported Mr. Wilton's views on the Corn Laws, and if put clearly and i">ower- fully before tlie country at this juncture, the effect might be groat, perhaps even, if sustained, decisive."
Eight-and-forty hours and more had elapsed since the con- versation between Endymion and Lady Montfort ; they had not been happy days. For the first time during their acquaint- ance there had been constraint and embarrassment between them. Lady Montfort no longer opposed his views, but she did not approve them. She avoided the subject ; she looked uninterested in all that was going on around her ; talked of joining her lord and going a-fishing ; felt he was right in his views of life. "Dear Simon was always right," and then she sighed, and then she shrugged her very pretty shoulders. En- dymion, though he called on her as usual, found there was nothing to converse about ; politics seemed tacitly forbidden, and when he attempted small talk Lady Montfort seemed ab- sent— and once absolutely yawned.
What amazed Endymion still more was, that, under these rather distressing circumstances, he did not find adequate sup- port and sympathy in his sister. Lady Roeluimpton did not question the propriety of his decision, but she seemed quite as unhai)py and as dissatisfied as Lady Montfort.
'"What you say, dearest Endymion, is quite unanswerable, and I alone perhaps can really know that ; but what I feel is, I have failed in life. My dream was to secure you greatness, and now, when the first occasion arrives, it seems I am more than powerless."
"Dearest sister ! you have done so much for me."
"Nothing," said Lady Roehampton ; "what I have done for you would have been done by every sister in this metropolis. I dreamed of other things ; I fancied, with my affection and my will, I could command events, and place you on a pinnacle.
1
FXBYMIOy AFD EIS SISTER.
307
i
I see my folly now ; others have controlled your life, not I — as was most natural ; natural, but still bitter."
''Dearest Myra ! "
''It is so, Endymion. Let us deceive ourselves no longer. I ought not to have rested until you were in a position which would have made you mastei* of your destiny."
"But if there should be such a thing as destiny, it will not submit to the mastery of man."
"Do not split words with me; you know what I mean; you feel what I mean ; I mean much more than I say, and you understand much more than I say. My lord told mo to ask you to dine with us, if you called, but I will not ask you. There is no joy in meeting at present. I feel as I felt in our last year at Hurstley."
"Oh ! don't say that, dear Myra!" and Endymion sprang forward and kissed her very much. " Trust me ; all will come right ; a little patience, and all will come right."
"I have had patience enough in life," said Lady Roehamp- ton ; " years of patience, the most doleful, the most dreary, the most dark and tragical. And I bore it all, and I bore it well, because I thought of you, and had confidence in you, and confidence in your star ; and because, like an idiot, I had schooled myself to believe that, if I devoted my will to you, that star would triumph."
So, the reader will see that our hero was not in a very serene and genial mood when ho was buttonholed by the edi- tor in the lobby, and, it is feared, he was unusually curt with that gentleman, which editors do not like, and sometimes re- ward with a leading article in consequence, on the character and career of our political chief, perhaps with some passing reference to jacks-in-office, and the suj^erficial impertinence of private secretaries. These wise and amiable speculators on public affairs should, however, sometimes charitably remember that even ministers have their chagrins, and that the trained temper and imperturbable presence of mind of their aides-de- camp are not absolutely proof to all the infirmities of human nature.
Endymion had returned home from the lobby, depressed
-50S
EXD YMIGX.
tind dispirited. Tlie last incident of our life shapes and colors our feelings. Ever since he bad settled in London, his life might he said to have hcen happy, gradually and greatly pros- perous. The devotion of his sister and the eminent position she had achievcu, the friendship of Lady Montfort, and the kindness of society, who had received him with open arms, his easy circumstances after painful narrowness of means, his lionorable and interesting position — these had been the chief among many other causes which had justly rendered Endymion Fcrrars a satisfied and contented man. And it was more than to be hoped that not one of these sources would be wanting in his future. And yet he felt dejected, even to unhappiness. Myra figured to his painful consciousness only as deejily wounded in her feelings, and he somehow the cause ; Lady Montfort, from whom he had never received anything but smiles and inspiring kindness, and witty raillery, and alfectionate solici- tude for his welfare, offended and estranged. And as for soci- ety, perhaps it would make a great ditrercnce in his position if he were no longer a private secretary to a cabinet minister and only a simple clerk ; he could not, even at this melancholy moment, dwell on his impending loss of income, though that increase at the time had occasioned him, and those Avho loved him, so much satisfaction. And yet was he in fault ? Had liis decision been a narrow-minded and craven one ? He could not bring himself to believe so — his conscience assured him -that he had acted rightly. After all that he had experienced lie was prepared to welcome an obscure, but could not endure a humiliating, position.
It Avas a long summer evening. The house had not sat after the announcement of the ministers. The twilight lingered Avitli t\ charm almost as irresistible as among woods and Avatcrs. JMidyniion had been engaged to dine out, but had excused him- eelf. Had it not been for the Montfort misunderstanding, he would have gone ; but that haunted him. lie had not called on her that day ; he really had not courage to meet her. lie Tvas beginning to think that ho might ne\'er see her again ; never, certainly, on the same terms. She had the reputation of being capricious, though she had been constant in her kind-
A srnPRiSE.
JjCD
ness to liim. Xcvcr see her again, or only see her chimged ! lie was not aware of the fullness of Lis misery before, llo was not aware, until this moment, that unless he saw her every day life would be intolerable.
lie sat down at his table, covered with notes in every female handwriting except the right one, and with cards of invitation to banquets and balls and concerts, and "very earlies," and carpet dances — for our friend Avas a very fashionable young man — bat what is the use of even being fashionable, if the person you love cares for you no more ? And so out of very wanton- ness, instead of opening notes scaled or stamped with every form of coronet, he took up a business-like epistle, closed only with a wafer, and saying in drollery, "I should think a dun," he took out a scrip receipt for £20,000 Consols, purchased that morning in the name of Endymion Ferrars, Esq. It was inclosed in half a sheet of note-paper, on which were written these words, in a handwriting which gave no clew of acquaint- anceship, or even sex : 'Olind — you are to send me your first frank."
CIIxVPTER LXVIII.
It was useless to ask who could it be ? It could only bo one person ; and yet how could it have been managed ? So completely and so promptly ! Her lord, too, away ; the only being, it would seem, who could have effected for her such a purpose, and he the last individual to whom, perhaps, she would have applied. Was it a dream ? The long twilight was dying away, and it dies away in the Albany a little sooner than it does in Park Lane ; and so he lit the candles on his mantelpiece, and then again unfolded the document carefully, and read it and reread it. It was not a dream. He held in his hand firmly, and read with his eyes clearly, the evidence- that he was the uncontrolled master of no slight amount of capital, and which, if treated with prudence, secured to him for life an ab.^olute and becoming independence. His heart beat and his check glowed.
310
ENDYMIOK
3
i \
■\i
What a woman ! And how true "were Myra's hist words to Ilurstley, that women would be his best friends in life ! He ceased to think ; and, dropping into his chair, fell into a rev- erie, in which the past and the future seemed to blend, with some mingling of a Tague and almost ecstatic present. I„ was a dream of fair women, and even fairer thoughts ; domestic tenderness and romantic love, mixed up with strange vicissi- tudes of lofty and fiery action, and passionate passages of elo- quence and power. The clock struck and roused him from his musing. He fell from the clouds. Could he accept this boon ? Was his doing so consistent with that principle of indeiten- dence on which he had resolved to build up his life ? The boon thus conferred might be recalled and returned ; not legally indeed, but by a stronger influence than any law — the consciousness on his part that the feeling of interest in his life which had prompted it might change — would, must change. It was the romantic impulse of a young and fascinating woman, who had been to him invariably kind, but who had a rejiuta- tion for caprice, which was not unknown to him. It was a wild and beautiful adventure ; but only that.
He walked up and down his rooms for a long time, some- times thinking, sometimes merely musing ; sometimes in a pleased but gently agitated state of almost unconsciousness. At last he sat down at his writing-table, and wrote for some time ; and then directing the letter to the Countess of Mont- fort, he resolved to change the current of his thoughts, and went to a club.
Morning is not romantic. Romance is the twilight spell ; but morn is bright and joyous, prompt with action, and full of sanguine hope. Life has few difficulties in the morning, at least none which we can not conquer ; and a private secretary to a minister, young and prosperous, at his first meal, sur- rounded by dry toast, all the newspapers, and files of corre- spondence, asking and promising everything, feels with pride and delight the sense of powerful and responsible existence. Endymion had glanced at all the leading articles, had sorted in the correspondence the grain from the chaff, and had settled in his mind those who must be answered and those who must
CONUNDRUMS.
311
be seen. The strange incident of last night was of course not forgotten, but removed, as it "were, from his consciousness in the bustle and pressure of active life, when his servant brought him a letter in a handwriting he knew right well. lie would not open it till ho was alone, and then it was with a beating heart and a burning cheek.
Lady Moxtfort's Letter.
'' What is it all about ? and what does it all mean ? I should have thought some great calamity had occurred if, however dis- tressing, it did not appear in some sense to be gratifying. What is gratifying ? You deal in conundrums, which I never could find out. Of course I shrll be at home to you at any time, if you wish to see me. Pray come on at once, as I detest mysteries. I went to the play last night with your sister. We both of us rather expected to see you, but it seems neither of us had men- tioned to you we were going. I did not, for I was too low-spir- ited about your affairs. You lost nothing. The piece was stu- pid beyond expression. We laughed heartily, at least I did, to show we were not afraid. My lord came home last night, sud- denly. Odo is going to stand for the county, and his borough is vacant. What an opportunity it would have been for you ! a certain seat. But I care for no boroughs now. My lord \n\\ want you to dine with him to-day ; I hope you can come. Per- haps he will not be able to see you this morning, as his agent will bo with him about these elections. Adieu ! "
If Lady Montfort did not like conundrums, she had succeed- ed, however, in sending one sufficiently perplexing to Endym- ion. Could it be possible that the writer of this letter was the unknown benefactress of the preceding eve ? Lady Montfort was not a mystifier. Her nature was singularly frank and fear- less, and when Endymion told her everything that had occurred, and gave her the document which originally he had meant to bring with him in order to return it, her amazcin' ^.t and her joy were equal.
''I wish I had sent it," said Lady Montfort, ''but that was impossible. I do not care who did send it j I have no fomab
312
endymion:
curiosit\ except about matters which, by knowledge, I may iii- fluenc. This is finislicd. You arc free. You can not hesitate as to your course. I never could speak to you again if you did hesitate. Stop here, and I will go to my lord. This is a great day. If we can only settle to-day that you shall bo tlie candi- date for our borough, I really shall not much care for the change of ministry."
Lady Alontfort was a long time away. Endymion would have liked to have gone forth on his alTairs, but she had im- pressed upon him so earnestly to wait for her return that he felt he could not retire. The room Avas one to which he Avas not unaccustomed, otherwise its contents would not have been un- interesting ; her portrait by more than one great master, a minia- ture of her husband in a Venetian dress upon her writing table — a table which wonderfully indicated alike the lady of fashion and the lady of business, for there seemed to be no form in which paper could be folded and emblazoned Avhicli was there wanting ; quires of letter paper, and note paper, and notelet paper, from dispatches of state to billet-doux, all were ready ; great covers with arm? and supporters, more moderate ones with "Berengaria" in letters of glittering fancy, and the destined shells of diminutive effusions marked only with a golden bee. There was anotlier tabic covered Avith trinkets and precious toys : snuff-boxes and patch-boxes beautifully painted, exquisite min- iatures, rare fans, cups of agate, birds glittering Avith gems almost as radiant as the tropic plumage they imitated, Avild animals cut out of ivory, or foimed of fantastic pearls — all the spoils of queens and royal mistresses.
Upon the Avails Avere drawings of her various homes ; that of her childhood, as aa'cII as of the hearths she ruled and loA'ed. There were a fcAV portraits on the Avails also of those Avliom she ranked as her particular friends. Lord Roehampton Avas one, another was the Count of Ferroll.
Tim:^ Avent on ; on a little table, by the side of evidently her favorite chair, Avas a book she had been reading. It Avas a German tale of fame, and Endymion, dropping into her seat, became interested in a A'olume Avhich hitherto he had never seen, but of AA'hich he had heard much.
LISAPPOINTMEXT.
31.'J
Perluips lie had been reading for some time ; there wa.-; a sound, lie started and looked up, and then springing from his chair, he said, "Something has hapjiened !"
Lady Montfort was quite pale and the expression of her countenance distressed, but when he said these words she tried to smile, and said, "Xo, no, nothing, nothing — at least no- thing to distress you. i\Iy lord hopes you will bo able to dine with him to-day, and tell him all the news." And then sho threw herself into a chair and sighed. " I should like to have i\. good cry, as the servants say, but I never could cry. I will tell you all about it in a moment. You were very good not to go."
It seems that Lady Montfort saAv her lord before the agent, who was waiting, had had his interview, and the o})portunity being in every way favorable, she felt the way about obtaining his cousin's seat for Endymion. Lord Montfort quite cm- braced the proposal. It had never occurred to him. lie had no idea that Ferrars contemplated Parliament. It Avas a cap- ital idea. lie could not bear reading the Parliament reports, and yet he liked to know a little of what was going en. Now, when anything happened of interest, he should have it all from the fountain head. "And you must tell him, Berengaria," he continued, " that he can come and dine here whenever he likes, in boots. It is a settled thing that M. P.s may dine in boots. I think it a most capital plan. Besides, I know it will please you. You will have your own member."
Then he rang the bell, and begged Lady Montfort to re- main and see the agent. Nothing like the present time for business. They would make all the arrangements at once, and he would ask the agent to dine with them to-day, and so meet Mr. Ferrars.
So the agent entered, and it was all explained to him, calm- ly and clearly, briefly by my lord, but with fervent amplifica- tion by his charming wife. The agent several times attempted to make a remark, but for some time he was unsuccessful ; Lady Montfort was so anxious that he should know all about Mr. Ferrars, the most rising young man of the day, the son of the late Right Honorable William Pitt Ferrars, who, had he not died, would probably have been prime minister, and so on.
14
I
n
314
EXD YMIOX.
*■'■ Mr. Feivars seems to be everytliing wg could wish," said the iigent, *'and as yjii say, my lady, thougli he is young, so M'ns Mr. Pitt, and I have little doubt, after what you say, my lady, that it is very likely he will in time become as eminent. But what I came up to town jiarticularly to impress upon my lord is, that if Mr. Odo will not stand again, we are in a very great difficulty."
** Difficulty about what ? " said Lady Montfort, impatiently.
" Well, my lady, if Mr. Odo stands, there is great respect for him. The other side would not disturb him. lie has teen member for some years, and my lord has been very liberal. But the truth is, if Mr. Odo does not stand, we can not com- mand the seat."
''Not command the seat.! Then our interest must have been terribly neglected."
*'I hope not, my lady," said the agent. ''The fact is, the property is against us."
" I thought it was all my lord's."
"No, my lady, the strong interest in the^borough is my Lord Beaumaris. It used to be about equal, but all the new buildings are in Lord Beaumaris's part of the borough. It would not have signified if things had remained as in the old days. The grandfather of the present lord was a Whig, and always supported the Montforts, but that's all changed. The present earl has gone over to the other side, and I hear is very strong in his views."
Lady ^Montfort had to communicate all this to Endymion. "You will meet the agent at dinner, but he did not give me a ray of hope. Go now ; indeed, I have kept you too long. I am so stricken that I can scarcely command my senses. Only think of our borough being stolen from us by Lord Beaumaris ! I have brought you no luck, Endymion ; I have done you no- thing but mischief ; I am miserable. If you had attached your- self to Lady Beaumaris, you might have been a member of Parliament."
!"l .
WALDERSUAUB AND TADPOLE.
315
CHAPTER LXIX.
.
\
In the mean time, the great news being no h)ngcr a secret, tlie utmost excitement prevaik'd in tlie wnrld of politics. The Tories had tpiitc made up tlieir minds tliat the ministry wouhl liavc resigned, and were sanguine, under sucli circumstances, of the result. The Parliament, which tl;o ministry was going to dissolve, was one which had been elected by their counsel and under their auspices. It was unusual, almost unconstitu- tional, thus to terminate the body they had created. Never- theless, the Whigs, never too delicate in such matters, thought they had a chance, and determined not to lose it. One thing they immediately succeeded in, and that was, frightening their opponents. A dissolution with the Tories in opposition was not jdeasant to that party, but a dissolution with a cry of cheap bread amid a partially starving popuhition, was not ex- actly the conjuncture of providential circumstances which had long been watched and wished for, and clierished and coddled, and proclaimed and promised, by the energetic army of Con- servative wire-pullers.
Mr. Tadpole was very restless at the crowded Carlton, speak- ing to every on^^, unhesitatingly answering every question, alike cajoling and dictatorial, and yet, all the time, watching the door of the morning room with unquiet anxiety.
" They will never be able to get up the steam. Sir Thomas, the Chartists are against them. The Chartists will never sub- mit to anything that is cheap. In spite of their wild fancies, they are real John Bulls. I beg your })ardon, but I see a gentleman I must speak to," and he rushed toward the door as Waldershare entered.
''Well, what is your news? "asked ^Fr. Tadpole, affecting unconcern.
'*I come here for news," said Waldershare. ''This is my Academus, and you. Tadpole, are my Plato."
" Well, if you want the words of a wise man, listen to me. If I had a great friend, which Mr. Waldershare probably has,
31G
EX DY MI OX.
^v^l() wants ji great place, these ai'o times in which sucli a man should sliow his power."
" I liave a great friend whom I wish to have a great phiee," said Wahlersluiro, "and I tliink lie is <[uito ready to show his j)()AVt'r, if he knew exactly how to exercise it."
" What I am saying to you is not known to a single person ill this room, and to only one out of it, but you may depend u})on what T say. Lord Mont fort's cousin retires from North- hdioiigh to sit for the county. They think they can nominate liis .• iiecessor as a matter of C(nirse. A delusion ; your friend Lord Beaumaris can command the scat."
'• Well, I think you can depend on Beaumaris," said AValdcr- share, much interested.
"I depend upon you,'' taid Mr. Tadpole with a glance of afTectionatc credulity. ''The party already owes you much. This will be a croAvning service."'
'•'Beaumaris is rather a (pieer man to deal with," said Wal- dersliare ; "he requires gentle handling."
'"' All the v>'orld says he consults you on everything."
'"All the world, as usual, is Avrcmg," said "Wakbrsharo. ''Lord Pieaumaris consults no one except Lady Beaumaris."
" \Ve!l then we sliall C.o,'" rejoined ]\Ir. Tadpole trium- plumtly. *' Our man that I wimt him to return is a connec- tion ol; Lady Beaumaris, a ^h\ Iiodney, very anxious to get into Parliament, and rich. I do not know who he is exactly, but it is a good name ; say a cousin of Lord Rodney until the election is over, and then they may settle it as they like."
"A Mr. I'odne}'," said "Waldcrshare musingly; "vrell, \i I hear anything I Avill let you know. I suppose you are in pretty good spirits ?"
"I should like a little sunshine. A cold sm'in'x, and now a wot summer, and the certainty of a shocking harvest combined with manufacturing distress spreading daily is not pleasant, but the English are a discriminating people. They will hardly persuade them that Sir Robert has occasioned the bad harvests."
"The present men arc clearly responsible for all that," said "Waldershare.
There Avas a reception at Lady Rocliampton's this evening.
i
S
F.xDYMiox Axn nioonxic.
31T
J>
I
4
L'lg.
Very few Tories tittcndcd it, l)ut T.ady neiiuniaris was tlicrc. She never 1(,. t an opportutiity of .showing by licr })rcscnee Iiow grateful she was to ^fyra for the kindness wliieh liad greeted Iniogenc when she first entered .-ociety. Kndymion, as was Ids custom when the oi)portunity offered, rather hung about Lady Beaumaris. Slic always welcomed him with unalfected cordiality and evident pleasure. He talked to her, and then gave way to others, and then came and talked to her again, and then ho proposed to take her to have a cup of tea, and she assented to the proposal with a l)rig]itening eye and a bewitch- ing smile.
"I suppose your friends are viry triunii)hant, Lady Beau- maris ? " said Endymion.
"Yes; they naturally are very excited. I confess I am not myself."
"But you ought to be," said Endymion, "you will have iin immense position. I should think Lord Beaumaris would have anv oflico he cliose, and vour< will be the chief house of the ]iarty."
" I do not know that Lord ]^>eauniaris would care to have oOlce, and I hardly think any otlieo would suit him. As for myself, I am obliged to be ambitious, but 1 have no ambition, or rather I would say, I think I was happier when we all seemed to be on the same side."
"Well, those were happy days," said Endymion, "and these arc happy days. And few things make me happier than to see Lady Beaumaris admired and appreciated by every one."
" I wish you would not call mo Lady Beaumaris. That may be, and indeed perhaps is, nece-sary in society, but when we arc alone, I prefer l)eing called by a name Avhicli once you always and kindly used."
" I shall always love the name," said Endymion, "and," he added "with some hesitation, "shall alwavs love her who bears it."
She involuntarily pressed Ids arm, though very slightly ; and then in rather a hushed and hurried tone she said, " They were talking about von at dinner to-dav. I fear this change
Oft/ •- O
of government, if there is to be one, will be injurious to you —
?
318
EXD vmoy.
'] .'I
lo.iliig your private secretary ship to Mr. Wilton, iuul perluipa other tilings ?"
"Fortune of war," said Sndymion, "we must bear these hai>s. But the truth k, I think it not unlikely there may be a eliangc in my life which may bo incompatible witli retaining my secretaryship under any circumstances."
"You arc not going to be married ?" she said quickly.
" Not the slightest idea of such an event."
"You are too young to marry."
" Well, I am older than you."
"Yes; but men and women are different in that .natter. Besides, you have too many fair friends to marry, at least at present. What would Lady Roehampton say ? "
"Well, I have sometimes thought my sister wished mc to marry."
"But then there are others who are not sisters, but who are e<[ually interested in your welfare," said Lady Beaumaris looking up into his face with her wondrous eyes, but the lashes were so long, that it Avas impossible to decide whether the glance was an anxious one or one half of mockery.
" Well, I do not think I shall ever marry," said Endymion. "The change in my life I was alluding to is one by no means of a romantic character. I have some thoughts of trying my luck on the husting-;, and getting into Parliament."
"That would be delightful," said Lady Beaumaris. "Do you know that it has been one of my dreams; that you should be in Parliament ? "
"All I dearest Imogene, for you said I might call you Imo- gene, you must take care what you say. Remember we are unhappily in different camps. You must not wish me success in my enterprise ; quite the reverse ; it is more than probable that you will have to exert all your influence against me ; yes, canvass against me and wear hostile ribbons, and use all your irresistible charms to array electors against me, or to detach them from my ranks."
"Even in jest, you ought not to say such things," said Lady Beaumaris.
" But I am not in jest, I am in dreadful earnest. Only this
.1
^
I
LAUV MOXTFOUrS CIlAliACTEli.
iJll)
.1
s
moriiiii!/ r was ofTorcd ti scat, wliicli tliov told mc was sccuiv ; but wIk'Ii I iii([uiretl into all the circum.stancc^, I found the interest of Lord Beaiunariri so great, that it would he folly for mc to attempt it."
*• What .seat ? " iii(|uired Lady Beaumaris in a low tone.
** Xorthhorough,'' said Pindymion, " now held l»y Lord Mont- fort's cousin, who is to come in for his county-. The seat was offered to mc, and I was told 1 \\^% to be returned without op- position."
*'Lady ^lontfort offered it to you ?" asked Tmogene.
"She interested herself for me, and Lord ^lontfort a[)- jiroved the suggestion. It was descril)cd to mc as a family scat, hut Avhcn I looked into the matter, I found that Lord Beaumaris was more powerful than Lord Montfort."
''I thought that Lady Montfort was irresistible," said Lno- gcne ; *' she carries all before her in society."
'• Society and politics have much to do with each other, but they are not identical. \\\ the present case, Lady Montfort is powerless."
"And have you formally abandoned the scat ? " inrpiircd Lady Beaumaris.
"Not formally abandoned it ; that was not necessary, but I have dismissed it from my mind, and for some time have been trying to find anotlier scat, but hitherto without success. In short in. these days it m no longer possible to step into Par- liament as if \<'»u Averc stepping into a club."
" If I could do anything, however little r " said Imogene. "Perhaps Lady Montfort would not like me to interfere ?"
"Why not?"
"Oh ! I do not know," and then after some hesitation slie added, "Is she jealous ?"
"Jealous ! why should she be jealous ?"
" Perhaps she has had no cause."
" You know Lady Montfort. She is a woman of quick and brilliant feeling, the best of friends and a dauntless foe. Her kindness to me from the first moment I made her acquaintance has been inexpressible, and I sincerely believe she is most anxious to serve me. But our party is not very popular at
?>20
EXDYMIOX.
present; tlierc is no doubt llio coiuitry is against us. It is tired of us. I feci myself the general election will be disas- trous. Liberal seats arc not abundant just now, quite the reverse, and though Lady Montfort has done more than any one could under the circumstances, I feel persuaded, though you think her irresistible, she will not succeed."
"I hardly know her," said Imogene. ''The world consid- ers her irresistible, and I think you do. Nevertheless, I wish she could have had her way in this matter, and I think it quite a pity tliat Xortliborough has turned out not to be a family seat."
11!
i'i
CHAPTER LXX.
There was a dinner-party at Mr. Ncuchatel's, to which none were asked but the high government clique. It was the last dinner before the dissolution : '' The dinner of consola- tion, or hope," said Lord Roehampton. Lady Montfort was to "be one of the guests. She was dressed, and her carriage in the court-yard, and she had just gone in to sec her lord before she departed.
Lord Montfort was extremely fond of jewels, and held that jou could not see them to advantage, or fairly judge of their water or color, except on a beautiful woman. "When his wife was in grand toilet, and he was under the same roof, he liked her to call on him in her way to her carriage that ho might see her flashing rivieres and tiaras, the luster of her huge pearls and the splendor of her emeralds and sapphires and rubies.
"Well, Bcrengaria," he said in a playful tone, *'3'ou look divine. Xever dine out again in a high dress. It distresses me. Bertolini was the only man who ever caught the tournure of your shoulders, and yet I am not altogether satisfied with his work. So, j^ou are going to dine with that good Neucha- tel. Remember me kindly to him. There arc few men I like better. lie is so sensible, knows so much, and so much of ivhat is going on. I should have liked very much to have dined with him, but he is awtire of mv unfortunate state. lie-
Ir
.w
I
^
'f
BERENGAHLVS LORD.
o.OI
sidc>, my dear, if I were bettor I sliould not have .-(rengtli for liis dinners. They are really banquets ; I can not .stand those ortolans stuffed Avith truffles and those truffles stuffed with ortolans. Perhaps lie will come and dine witli us some day off a joint."
" The Queen of ^Mesopotamia will be here next week, Simon, and we must really give her what you call a joint, and then we can ask the Ncuchatels and a few other people."
''I was in hopes the dissolution would have carried evcr}'- bodv awav," said Lord Montfort, rather Avofullv. ''I wish the Queen of Mesopotamia were a candidate for some borougli ; 1 think she would rather like it."
'' Well, we could not return her, Simon ; do not touch on the subject. But what have you got to amuse you to-day ? "
''Oh! I shall do very well. I have got the head of the French detective police to dine with me, and another man or two. Besides, 1 have got here a most amusing book, ' Topsy Turvy ;' it comes out in numbers. I like books that come out in numbers, as there is a little suspense, and you can not de])rive yourself of all interest by glancing at the last page of the last volume. I think you must read ' Topsy Turvy,' Beren- garia. I am mistaken if you do not hear of it. It is very cynical, which authors, who know a little of the world, are apt to be, and everything is exaggerated, which is another of their faults Avhcn they are only a trifle acquainted with manners. A little knowledge of the world is a verv dansferous thinir, cs- ])ecially in literature. But it is clever, and the man writes a ca])ital style ; and stjde is everything, especially in fiction."
"And what is the name of the writer, Simon ? "
'' You never heard of it ; I never did ; but my secietary, who lives much in Bohemia, and is a member of the Cosmo- politan and knows everything, tells me he has written some things before, but they did not succeed, llis name is St. Barl)o. I should like to ask him to dinner if I knew how to cet at him."
''"Well, adieu! Simon," and, with an agitated heart, though, apparent calmness, she touched his forehead with her lips. "I expect an unsatisfactory dinner."
" Adieu ! and if you meet poor Fcrrars, which I dare say
322
EXDYMIOX.
fi
you will, tell him to kcci) up his spirits. The world is a wheel, and it will all come round right."
The dinner ought not to have been unsatisfactory, for though there was no novelty among the guests, they were all clever and distinguished persons and united by entire sympa- thy. Several of the ministers were there, and the Koehamp- tons, and Mr. Sidney Wilton, and Endymion was also a guest. But the general tone was a little affected and unnatural ; forced gaycty, and a levity which displeased Lady Montfort, who fancied she was unhai^py because the country was going to be ruined, but whose real cause of dissatisfaction at the bottom of her heart was the affair of 'Hhe family seat." Her hero. Lord Roehampton, particularly did not please her to-day. She thorgl^t him flippant and in bad taste, merely because he would not iuok dismal and talk gloomily.
" I think we shall do very avcII," he said. "What cry can be better than that of cheap bread ? It gives one an appetite at once."
*'But the Corn-Law League says your bread will not be cheap," said Melchior Neuchatel.
**I wonder whether the League has really any power in the constituencies," said Lord Eoehampton. *'I doubt it. They may have in time, but then in the interval trade Avill revive. I have just been reading Mr. Thornberry's speech. We shall hear more of that man. You will not be troubled about any of your seats ?" - o ^:uid, in a lower tone of sympathv, address- ing Mrs. Neudi.n. J. who was his immediate neighbor.
(I
Our scats?"' ;-;) 1 Mrs. Neuchatel, as if waking from a dream. '*0h, I know nothing about them, nor do I under- stand why there is a dissolution. I trust that Parliament will not be dissolved without voting the money for the observation of the transit of Venus."
*'I think the Roman Catholic vote will carry us through," said a minister.
'* Talking of Roman Catholics," said Mr. Wilton, "is it true that Pcnruddock has gone over to Rome ? "
"No truth in it," replied a colleague. "He has gone to Rome — there is no doubt of that, and he has been there some
■^
GOOD WISHES.
lie
ili>
!•>
it
•I
1
time, but only for distraction. He luicl overworked liini- self."
" He might have been a Dean if he had been a practical man," whispered Lady Montfort to Mr. Neuchatel, "and on the high road to a bishopric."
'* That is what we want. Lady Montfort," said Mr. Neu- chatel ; ** we want a few practical men. If we had a practical man as Chancellor of the Exchequer we should not have been in the scrape in which we now are."
'' It is not likely that Penruddoek will leave the Church with a change of government possibly impending. We could do nothing for him with his views, but he will wait for Peel."
"Oh ! Peel will never stand those high-flyers. lie put the Church into a Lay Commission during his last government."
" Penruddoek will never give up Anglicanism while there is a chance of becoming a Laud. When that chance vanishes, trust my word, Penruddoek will make his boAv to the Vati- can."
"Well, I must say," said Lord Roehampton, "if I Avere a clergyman I should be a Roman Catholic. "
" Then you could not marry. What a compliment to Lady Roehampton ! "
"Nay; it is because I could not marry that I am not a clergyman."
Endymion had taken Adriana down to dinner. She looked very well, and was more talkative than usual.
"I fear it will be a very great confusion — this general elec- tion," she said. "Papa was telling us that you think of being u candidate. "
"I am a candidate, but without a seat to captivate at pres- ent," said Endymion ; "but I am not without hopes of making some a?*rangement."
" Well, you must tell me what your colors are."
"And will you wear them ?"
"Most certainly ; and I will work you a banner if you be victorious."
"I think I must win with such a prospect."
"I hope you will win in everything."
324
EXDYMIOX.
I
When the ladies retired, Bcrcngiiria came and sat by the eide of Lady Roeliampton.
" What a dreary dinner I " slie said.
*'Do you think so?"
''Well, perhaps it Avas my own fault. Perhaps I am not in good cue, but everything seems to me to go wrong."
** Things sometimes do go wrong, but then they get right."
"Well, I do not think anything Avill ever get right with me."
*' Dear Lady ^lontfort, how can you say such things ! You who have, and have always liad, the world at your feet — and always will have."
" I do not know wliat you mean by having the world at my feet. It seems to me I have no power whatever — I can do no- thing. I am vexed about this business of your brother. Our people are so stupid. They have no resource. When I go to them and ask for a seat I expect a seat, as I would a shawl at Howell and James' if I asked for one. Instead of that they only make difficulties. What our party wants is a Mr. Tad- pole ; he out-mana}uvre3 them in every corner."
*'Well, I shall be deeply disappointed — deeply pained," said Lady Roeliampton, *'if Endymion is not in this Parlia- ment, but if we fail I will not utterly despair. I will continue to do what I have done all my life, exert my utmost Avill and poAver to advance him."
*'I thought I had Avill and power," said Lady Montfort, **but the conceit is taken out of me. Your brother was to me a source of great interest, from the first moment that I kncAV him. Ilis future Avas an object in life, and I thought I could mold it. What a mistake ! Instead of making his fortune I IiaA'C only dissipated his life."
*' You liaA'o been to him the kindest and the most A'aluable of friends, and he feels it."
** It is no use being kind, and I am valuable to no one. I <iLt<3n think if I disappeared to-morrow no one would miss me. "
"You are in a morbid mood, dear lady. To-morroAv per- h;)ps everything Avill be right, and then you Avill feel that you
t'
It; :
A FAMILY EXGAGEMEXT.
325
are surroumled by devoted fi'ends, and by ti Imsband who adores you."
Lady Moiitfort gave a scrutinizing glance at Lady Roe- hampton as slic said this, then shook her head. ''Ah ! tlicre it is, dear Myra. You judge from your own happiness ; you do not know Lord Montfort. You know liow T love liini, but I am perfectly convinced lie prefers my letters to my so- ciety."
" You sec what it is to bo a Madame do Sevigne," said Lady Roehampton, trying to give a i)]iiyful tone to the conversation.
" You jest,"' said Lady Montfort ; " I am rpiite serious. No one can deceive me ; would that thev could ! I have the fatal gift of reading persons, and penetrating motives, however deep or complicated their character, and what I tell you about Lord Montfort is unhappily too true."
In the mean time, while this interesting conversation was taking place, the gentleman who had been the object of Lady Montfort's culogium, the gentleman Avho always out-manceu- vrcd her friends in every corner, was, though it Avas ai)i)roach- ing midnight, walking up and down Carlton Terrace with an agitated and indignant countenance, and not alone.
" I tell you, Mr. Waldershare, I know it ; I liavo it almost from Lord Beaumaris himself ; he has declined to support our man, and no doubt will give his influence to the enemy."
*'I do not believe that Lord Beaunu^ris has made any en- gagement whatever. "
**A pretty state of affairs," exclaimed Mr. Tadpole. **I do not know what the world has come to. Here are gentlemen expecting high places in the Household, and under-secretary- ships of state, and actually giving away our seats to our oppo- nents."
** There is some family engagement about this seat between the Houses of Beaumaris and Montfort, and Lord Beaumaris, who is a young man, and who does not know as much about these things as you and I do, naturally wants not to make a mistake. But he has promised nothing and nobody. I knoAv, I might almost say I saw the letter, that he wrote to Lord Montfort this day, asking for an interview to-morroAV morning
32G
END )\]fI0y.
on the matter, and Lord Montfort has given him an appoint- ment for to-morrow. This I know."
"Well, I must leave it to you," said Mr. Tadpole. "You must remember what we are fighting for. The constitution is at stake."
"And the Church," said TValdershare.
" And the landed interest, you may rely upon it," said Mr. Tadpole.
''And your Lordship of the Treasury in ])Osse Tadpole. Truly it is a great stake."
I
-\ t
ihi
CHAPTER LXXL
The intcrvicAv between the heads of the two great houses of Montfort and Beaumaris, on which the fate of a ministry might depend, for it should always be recollected, that it was only by a majority of one that Sir Robert Peel had necessitated the dissolution of Parliament, was not carried on exactly in the spirit and with the means Avliich would have occurred to and been practiced by the race of Tadpoles and Tapers.
Lord Beaumaris was a very young man, handsome, extreme- ly shy, and one who had only very recently mixed with the circle in which he was born. It was under the influence of Imogene that, in soliciting an interview with Lord Montfort, he had taken for him an unusual, not to say unprecedented step. He had conjured up to himself in Lord Montfort the apparition of a haughty Whig peer, proud of his order, prouder of his party, and not over-prejudiced in favor of one who had quitted those sacred ranks, freezing witl) arrogant reserve and condescending politeness. In short. Lord Beaumaris was ex- tremely nervous when, ushered by many servants through many chambers, there came forward to receive him the most sweetly mannered gentleman alive, who not only gave him his hand, but retained his guest's, saying, " We are a sort of cousins, I believe, and ought to have been acquainted before, but you know, perhaps, my wretched state," though what that was
A MUTUAL AOREEMEN-T.
327
V
nobody exactly did know, particularly as Lord Montl'ort was sometimes seen wading in streams breast-high while throwing his skillful line over the rushing waters. '• I remember your grandfather," he said, '"'and with good cause. He pouched me at Harrow, and it was the largest pouch I ever had. One does not forget the first time one had a five-pound note."
And then when Lord Beaumaris, blushing and with much hesitation, had stated the occasion of his asking for the inter- view, that they might settle together about the representation vt Northborough in harmony with the old understanding bo- tween the families which he trusted would always bo main- tained. Lord Montfort assured him that he was personally obliged to him by his always supporting Odo, regretted that Odo would retire, and then said if Lord Beaumaris had any brother, cousin, or friend to bring forward, he need hardly say Lord Beaumaris might count upon him. " I am a Whig," he continued, ''and so was your father, bat I am not particularly pleased with the sayings and doings of my people. Between ourselves, I think thoy have been in a little too long, and if they do anything very strong, if, for instance, they give office to O'Connell, I should not be at all surprised if I were myself to sit on the cross benches."
It seems there was no member of the Beaumaris family who wished at this juncture to come forward, and being assured of this. Lord Montfort remarked there was a young man of l)romise who much wished to enter the House of Commons, not unknown he believed to Lord Beaumaris, and that was Mr. Ferrars. He was the son of a distinguished man, now de- parted, who in liis day had been a minister of state. Lord Montfort was quite ready to support Mr. Ferrars, if Lord Beau- maris approved of the selection, but he placed himself entirely in his hands.
Lord Beaumaris, blushing, said he quite approved of the selection ; knew Mr. Ferrars very well, and liked him very much ; and if Lord Montfort sanctioned it, would speak to Mr. Ferrars himself. He believed Mr. Ferrars was a Liberal, but he agreed with Lord Montfort, that in these days gentle- men must be all of the same opinion if not on the same side,
".1*1
323
j:xdymiox.
l!
:|i
and so on. And tlicn tlicy tiilkod of fisliing appropriately to a book of very curious flies that was on the tabic, and they agreed if possible to fish together in some famous waters that Lord Beaumaris had in Hampshire, and then, as he was saying farewell, Lord Montfort added, '^'Although I never pay visits, because really in my wretched state I can not, there is no rea- son Avhy our wives should not know each other. Will you per- mit Lady Montfort to have the honor of paying her respects to Lady Beaumaris ? "
Talleyrand or Metternich could not have conducted an in- tervicAv more skillfully. But these were just the things that Lord Montfort did not dislike doing, llis great good nature was not disturbed by a single inconvenient circumstance, and he enjoyed the sense of his adroitness.
The same day the cards of Lord and Lady Montfort Avero sent to Piccadilly Terrace, and on the next day the cards of Lord and Lady Beaumaris were returned to Montfort House. And on the following day. Lady Montfort, accompanied by Lady Roehampton, would find Lady Beaumaris at home, and after a charming visit in which Lady Montfort, though natural to the last degree, displayed every quality which could fasci- nate even a woman, when she put her hand in that of Imogcne to say farewell, added, "I am delighted to find that wc ;"-o cousins.''
A few days after this interview. Parliament was dissolved. It was the middle of a wet June, and the season received its coup de (jfdce. Although Endymion had no rival, and ap- parently no prospect of a contest, his labors as a candidate were noc slight. The constituency was numerous, and every member of it expected to be called upon. To each Mr. Fer- rars had to expound his political views, and to receive from each a cordial assurance or a churlish criticism. All this he did and endured, accompanied by about fifty of the principal inhabitants, members of his committee, who insisted on never leaving his side, and prompting him at every new door which lie entered with contradictory reports of the political opinions of the indAvellers, or confidential intimations how they were to be managed and addressed.
ilt
JX PARLIAMFXT.
329
i^y
The i)rincip;il and most laborious incidents of the day wcro fosiivuld Avhich they styled luncheons, when the candidate and the anihuhitory committee were quartered on some principal citize!! with an elaborate banquet of several courses, and in whicli Mr. J'errars' health was always pledged in sjjarkling bumpers. After the luncheon came two or three more hours of what Avas called canvassing ; then in a state of horrible re- pletion, the fortunate candidate, who had no contest, had to dine with another principal citizen, with real turtle sou]), and gigantic turbots, entrees in the phapc of volcanic curries, and rigid venison, sent as a compliment by a neighboring peer. This last ceremony was necessarily hurried, as Endymion had every night to address in some ward a body of the electors.
"When this had been eo'ng on for a few days, the borough was suddenly placarded .vlth posting bills in colossal characters of true blue, warning the conservative electors not to promise their votes, as a distinguished candidate of the right sort would certainly come forAvard. At the same time there was a para- graph in a local journal that a member of a noble family, illus- triou in the naval annals of the country, Avould, if sutllciently supported, solicit the suifrages of the independent electors.
" We think by the allusion to the navy, that it must be Mr. Hood of Acreley," said Lord Beaumaris's agent to !Mr. Ferrars, "but he has not the ghost of a chance. I Avill ride over and see him in the course of the day."
This placard was of course Mr. Tadpole's last ciTort, but that Avorthy gentleman soon forgot his mortification about Northborough in the general triumph of his party. The Whigs Averc noAvliere, though Mr. Fcrrars was returned Avithout op- position, and in the month of August, still Avondering at the rapid, strange, and CA'cn mysterious incidents that had so sud- denly and so swiftly changed his position and prospects in life, took his seat in that house in Avhose galleries he h.id so long humbly attended as the private secretary of a cabinet minister.
His friends Avere still in office, though the country had sent up a majority of ninety against them, and Endymion took his seat behind the Treasury bench, and exactly behind Lord Roe- hamptun. The debate on the address Ava3 protracted for three
330
EXDYMION.
I
nights, aii'l then they diviclccl ni three o'clock in the morning, anil then v\\ was over. Lord Roehampton, wlio hatl vindicated the ministry with admirable vigor and felicity, turned round to Endymion, and, smiling, said in the sweetest tone, '* I did not enlarge on our greatest fe.'it, namely, that we had governed the country for two years without a majority. Peel would never have had the pluck to do that."
Notwithstanding the backslidings of Lord Beaumaris and the unprincipled conduct of Mr. Waldershare, they were both rewarded as the latter gentleman projected — Lord Beaumaris accepted a high post in the Household and ]\[r. AValdersharo was appointed Under Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. Tadpole was a little ghim about it, but it was inevitable. '' Tho fact is," as the world agreed, " Lady Beaumaris is the only Tory woman. They have nobody wlio can receive except her."
The changes in the House of Commons were still greater than those in the administration. Never were so many new members, and Endymion watched them during the first days, and before the debate on the address, taking the oaths at the table in batches with much interest. Mr. Bertie Tremaine was returned, and his brother, Mr. Tremaine Bertie. Job Thorn- berry was member for a manufacturing town, with which he was not otherwise connected. Ilortensius was successful, and Mr. Vigo for a metropolitan borough, but Avhat pleased Endym- ion more than anything was tho return of his valued friend, Trenchard, who a short time before had acceded to the paternal estate ; all these gentlemen were Liberals, and were destined to sit on the same side of the House as Endymion.
After the fatal vote, the Whigs all left town. Society in general had been previously greatly dispersed, but Parliament had to remain sitting until October.
*' We are going to Princedown," Lady Montfort said one day to Endymion, ''and we had counted on seeing you there, but I have been thinking much of your position since, and I am persuaded that we must sacrifice pleasure to higher objects. This is really a crisis in your life, and much, perhaps every- thing, depends on your not making a mistake now. What I want to see you is a great statesman. This is a political econ-
LADY MONTl'ORT'S PLAXS.
331
))
omy Parliaincut, both sides alike tliiiiklug of the price of com aiul all that. Finance and commerce are everybody's subjects, and are most convenient to make speeches about for men who can not speak French and who have had no education. Keal politics are the possession and distribution of power. I want to see you give your mind to foreign affairs. There you will have no rivals. There arc a great many subjects which Lord Koehampton can not take up, but which you could very prop- erly, and you will have always the benefit of his counsel, and, wJien necessary, his parliamentary assistance ; but foreign af- fairs are not to be mastered by mere reading. Bookworms do not make chancellors of state. You must become acquainted Avith the great actors in the great scene. There is nothing like personal knowledge of the individuals who control the high affairs. That has made the fortune of Lord Roehampton. What I think you ought to do, without doubt ought to do, is to take advantage of this long interval before the meeting of Parliament, and go to Paris. Paris is noAv the capital of di- plomacy. It is not the best time of the year to go there, but you will meet a great many peojile of the diplomatic world, and if the opportunity offers, you can vary the scene, and go to some baths which princes and ministers frequent. The Count of Ferroll is now at Paris, and minister for liis court. You know him ; that is well. But he is my greatest friend, and, as you know, we habitually corrcsjiond. lie will do everything for you, I am sure, for my sake. It is noi pleasant to be sep- arated ; I do not wish to conceal that ; I should have enjoyed your society at Princedown, but I am doing right, and you will some day thank me for it. We must soften the pang of sepa- ration by writing to each other every day, so when we meet again it will only be as if we had parted yesterday. Besides, who knows ? I may run over myself to Paris in the winter. My lord always liked Paris ; the only place he ever did, but I am not very sanguine he will go ; he is so afraid of being asked to dinner by our ambassador."
332 ^'^V/) YMIUX.
CIIAPTEIl LXXir.
In" (ill livO"!, tlio liiglicst 1111(1 llio liuniblesl:, there is a crisis in the formation of cluinictcr, Jiiid in the l)eiit of the disposition. It comes from many causes, and from some -which on the sur- face are ajiparently even trivial. It may be a hook a spcccli, a sermon ; a man or a Avoman ; a great misfortune, or a burst of prosi)erity. But the result is the same ; a sudden revelation to ourselves of our secret purpose, and a recognition of our perliaps long-shadowed, but now masterful, convictions.
A crisis of this kind occurred to Endymion the day wlien he returned to his chambers, after having taken the oatlis and his scat in the House of Commons. He felt the necessity of being alone. For nearly the last three months he had been the excited actor in a strange and even mvsterioiis drama. There had bee' "or him no time to reflect ; all he could aim at was to nomprt "•, and if possible control, the present and urgent contingency ; he had been called upon almost unceasingl\% to do, or to say, something sudden and unexpected ; and it Avas only now, Avhen the crest of tho ascent had been reached, that lie could look around him and consider the new world opening to his gaze.
The greatest opportunity that can be olTered to an English- man was noAV his — a seat in the House of Commons. It was his almost in the first bloom of youth, and 3'ct after advanta- geous years of labor and political training, and it was combined with a material independence on which he never could have counted. A love of power, a passion for distinction, a noble pride, which had been native to his early disposition, but Avliich had apparently been crushed by the enormous sorrows and mis- fortunes of his childhood, and which had vanished, as it Avere, before the sAveetness of that domestic Ioa'C Avhich had been tho solace of his adA'ersity, now again stirred their dim and mighty forms in his renovated, and, as it were, inspired consciousness. *' If this has happened at twenty-two," thought Endymion, *' what may not occur if the aA'crage life of man bo allotted to me ? At any rate, I Avill never think of anything else. I have
i.::,:_
AT PAIilS.
a purpose in life, and I will I'lillill it. It is ii cluinn that its at'Com]ilisliineiit would be the mo.st p:rak'ful result to the two hein.L,'H I most love in the world."
So when Lady Montfort shortly after ojieiied her views to Endyniion as to his visiting' Paris, iind his purpose in so doinir, the seeds were thrown on a willin^^ soil, and he embraeed her counsels Avith the c -epest interest. His intimacy with tliL? Count of Ferroll was iic completing event of this epoch of his life.
Their acquaintance had been slight in England, for after the ]\Iontfort Tournament the count had been appointed to Paris, where lie was required ; but he received Endymion with a cordiality which contrasted with his usual demeanor, which, tliough frank, was somewhat cynical.
"This is not a favorable time to visit Paris," he said, *'.so far as society is concerned. There is some business stirring in the diplomatic world, which has reassembled the fraternity for the moment, and the King is at St. Cloud, but you may make some acquaintances which may be desirable, and at any rato look about you and clear the ground for the coming season. I do not despair of our dear friend coming over in the winter. It is one of the hopes that keep me alive. What a woman ! You may count yourself fortunate in having such a friend. I do. I am not particularly fond of female society. Women chat- ter too mucli. But I prefer tlic society of a first-rate wuuiuu to that of any man ; and Lady Montfort is a first-rate woman — I think the greatest since Louise of Savoy ; infinitely beyond tho Princesse d'Ursins."
The "business that was then stirring in tlie diplomatic world," at a season v»'hcn the pleasures of Parisian society could not distract him. gave Endymion a rare opportunity of studying tnat singular class of human beings which is accus- tomed to 'consider states and nations as individuals, and specu- late on their quarrels and misunderstandings, and the reme- dies Avhicli they require, in a tongue peculiar to themselves, and in language which often conveys a meaning exactly opposite to that which it seems to express. Diplomacy is hospitable, and a young Englishman of graceful mien, well introduced, and a
'! 'i
I ■;:
1 I \:
^' II
i t
O'J-i
ENDYMIOK
member of the House of Commons, that awful assembly which produces tliose dreaded blue books which strike terror in the boldest of foreign statesmen — was not only received, but court- ed, in the interesting circle in which Endymion found himself.
There he encountered men gray with the fame and wisdom of half a century of deep and lofty action, men who had strug- gled with the first Napoleon, and had sate in the Congress of Vienna ; others, hardly less celebrated, who Lad been suddenly borne to high places by the revolutionary wave of 1830, and who liad justly retained their exalted posts when so many com- petitors with an equal ch-ince, had long ago, with equal justice, subsided into the obscurity from which they ought never to have emerged. Around these chief personages were others not less distinguished by their abilities, but a more youthful gener- ation, Avho knew how to wait, and Avere always prepared or preparing for the inevitable occasion Avhen it arrived — fine and trained writers, who could interpret in sentences of graceful adroitness, the a icws of their chiefs ; or sages in precedents, walking dictionaries of diplomacy, and masters of every treaty ; and private secretaries reading human nature at a glance, and collecting every shade of oi^inion for the use and guidance o; their principals.
Whatever their controversies in the morning, their critical interviews and their secret alliances, all were smiles and grace- ful badinage at the banquet and the reception ; as if they had only come to Paris to show their brilliant uniforms, their golden fleeces and their grand crosses, and their broad ribbons with more tints than the Iris.
*' I will not give them ten years," said the Count of FerroU lighting his cigarette, and addressing Endymion on their re- turn from one of these assemblies ; *' I sometimes think hardly five."
'' But where will the blow come from ? "
'" Here ; there is no movement in Europe except in France, and here it will always be a movement of subversion."
" A pretty prospect ! "
'*TIie sooner j'ou realize it the better. The system here is supported by journalists and bankers ; two influential classes.
A VALUABLE FRIEND.
335
but the millions care for neither ; rather, I should say, dislike both." .
" Will the change affect Europe ? "
''Ineyitably. You rightly say Europe, for that is a geo- graphical expression. There is no State in Europe ; I exclude your own country, which belongs to every division of the globe, and is fast bc'-oming more commercial than political, and I ex- clude Russia, for she is essentially oriental, and her future will be entirely the East."
" But there is Germany ! "
""Where ? I can not find it on the maps. Germany is di- vided into various districts, and when there is a war, they are ranged on different sides. Notwithstanding our reviews and annual encampments, Germany is practically as weak as Italy. We have some kingdoms who are allowed to play at being first- rate powers ; but it is mere play. They no more command events than the King of Naples or the Duke of Modena."
"Then is France periodically to overrun Europe ?"
"So long as it continues to be merely Europe."
A close intimacy occurred between Endymion and the Count of Ferroll. He not only became a permanent guest at the official residence, but Avhen the Conference broke up, the count invited Endymion to be his companion to some celebrated baths, where they would meet not only many of his late dis- tinguished colleagues, but their imperial and royal masters, seeking alike health and relaxation fit this fahious rendezvous.
" You will find it of the first importance in public life," said the Count of Ferroll, "to know personally those who are carrying on the business of the world, so much depends on the character of an individual, his habits of thought, his prejudices, his superstitions, his social weaknesses, his health. Conduct- ing affairs without this advantage is, in effect, an affair of sta- tionery ; it is pens and paper who are in communication, not human beings."
The brother-in-law of Lord Roehampton was a sort of per- sonage. It was very true that distinguished man was no longer minister, but he had been minister for a long time, and had left a great name. Foreigners rarely know more than one
fe
il
336
EXDYMI027.
'tlr
I I
English minister at a time, but they compensate for tlieir igno- rance of tlie aggregate body by even o«aggcrating the quali- ties of the individual with whom they are acquainted. Lord Rochampton had conducted the affairs of his country always in a courteous, but still in a somewhat haughty spirit. He was easy and obliging, and conciliatory in little matters, but where the credit, or honor, or large interests of England Avere con- cerned, he acted with conscious authority. On the continent of Europe, though he sometimes incurred the depreciation of the smaller minds, whose self-love he may not have sufficiently spared, by the higher spirits he was feared and admired, and they kncAV when he gave his whole soul to an affair, that they were dealing Avith a master.
Endymion Avas presented to emperors and kings, and he made his Avay Avith these exalted personages. He found them different from Avhat he had expected. lie Avas struck by their intimate acquaintance with affairs, and by the serenity of their judgment. The life was a pleasant as well as an interesting one. Where there are croAvned heads, tliere arc always som9 charming Avomen. Endymion found himself in a delightful circle. Long days and early hours, and a beautiful country, renovate the spirit as well as the physical frame. Excursions to romantic forests, and visits to picturesque ruins, in the uoon of summer, arc enchanting, especially Avith princesses for your companions, bright and accomplished. Yet, notwithstanding some distractions, Endymion ncA'cr omitted Avriting to Lady Moiitfort every day.
CHAPTER LXXIIL
The season at Paris Avhich commenced toAA'ard the end of the year was a lively one, and especially interesting to Endym- ion, who met there a great many of his friends. After his visit to the baths he had traveled alone for a few Aveeks, and saAv some famous places of Avhich ho had long heard. A poet was tlien sitting on the throne of Bavaria, and Avas realizing his dreams in the creation of an ideal capital. The Black For-
i
CHOOSING A PRESENT.
337
igno-
1/
est is a land of romance. He saw Wallialla, too, crowning tlio Danube with the genius of Germany, as mighty as the stream itself. Pleasant it is to wander among the quaint cities here clustering together : Nuremberg with all its ancient art, im- j)eria] Augsburg, and Wurtzburg with its priestly palace, be- yond the splendor of many kings. A summer in Suabia is a great joy.
But what a contrast to the Rue de la Paix, bright and viva- cious, in Avliich he now finds himself, and the companion of the Xeachatcl family. Endymicn had only I'cturned to Paris the pievious evening, and the Ncucluitels luid preceded him by a week ; so they had seen everybody and could tell him every- thing. Lord and Lady Beaumaris Averc there, and ;^L•s. Eod- ney their companion, her husband detahied in London by some mysterious business ; it was thouglit a seat in Parliament, which Mr. Tadpole had persuaded him might be secured on a vacancy occasioned by a successful jjetition. They had seen the Count of Ferroll, who was going to dine Avith them that da}', and Endymion was invited to meet him. It was Adriana's first visit to Paris, and she seemed delighted with it ; but Mrs. Xeuchatcl preferred the gay capital when it was out of season. Mr. Xeuchatel himself was always in high spirits — sanguine and self-satisfied. He was an Orlcanist, had always been so, and sympathized with the apparently complete triumph of his principles — "real liberal principles, no nonsense; there Avas more gold in the Bank of France than in any similar establish- ment in Europe. After all, Avealth is the test of the welfare of a people, and the test of Avealtli is the command of the jirecious metals. Eh! ]\rr. Member of Parliament?" And his eye Hashed fire, and he scenu'd to smack his lips at the very tliouglit and mention of these delicious circumstances.
They Averc in a jcAveler's shop, and Mrs. Neuchatel Avas choosing a trinket for a AATddiiig present. She seemed in- finitely distressed. "What do you think of this, Adriaini ? It is simple and in good taste. I should like it for myself, and yet I fear it might not be thought fine enough."
"This is pretty, mamma, and ncAv," and she held before her mother a bracelet of much splendor.
15
338
LWDVJI/uy.
mt
I
'' Oh ! no, tliat -will iiCYcr do, dear Adriaiia, they -will say we are purse-proud."
'* I am afraid they will always say that, mamma," and she sig'hed.
''It is a long time since we all separated," said Endymion to Adriana.
"Months! Mr. Sidney Wilton said you were the fir.>:t runaway. I think you were quite right. Your new life now will be fresh to you. If you had remained, it would only have been associated with defeat and discomfiture."
'' I am so happy to be in Parliament, that I do not think I could ever associate such a life with discomfiture."
'' Does it make you very happy ? " said Adriana, looking at liim rather earnestly.
"Very happ3\"
" I am glad of that."
The Ncuchatels had a house at Paris — one of the fine hotels of the First Empire. It was inhabited generally by one of the nephews, but it was always ready to receive them with every luxury and every comfort. But Mrs. Neuchatel herself par- ticularly disliked Paris, and she rarely accompanied her hus- band in his frequent but brief visits to the gay city. She had yielded on this occasion to the wish of Adriana, whom she had endeavored to bring up in a wholesome prejudice against French taste and fashions.
The dinner to-day was exquisite, in a chamber of many- colored marbles, and where there was no marble there was gold, and when the banquet was over, they repaired to saloons hung with satin of a delicate tint, which exhibited to perfec- tion a choice collection of Grcusc and Vanloo. Mr. Sidney Wilton dined there as well as the Count of Ferroll, some of the French ministers, and two or three illustrious Orleani,-;t celeb- rities of literature, who acknowledged and emulated the match- loss conversational powers of Mrs. Neuchatel. Lord and Lady Beaumaris and Mrs. Rodney completed the party.
Sylvia was really peerless. Shu was by birth half a French- woman, and she compensated for her deficiency in the other moiety, by a scries of exquisite costumes, in Avhich she mingled
J
nam
END YMIOX'S DISCREETXESS.
330
k
(
I
witli the spell-born fusliion of FrancL" licr own singular genius in dress. She spoke not mueli, but looked prettier than ever ; a little haughty, and now and then faintly smiling. What was most remarkable about her was her convenient and complete ■want of memory. Sylvia had no past. She could not have found her way to Warwick Street to save her life. She con- versed with Endymion with ease and 3iot witliout gratification, but from all she said, you might have supposed that they liad been born in the same spliere, and always lived in the same sphere, that sphere being one pcoi)lcd by ducliesses and count- esses and gentlemen of fasliion and ministers of state.
Lady Beaumaris was difTcrent from her sister almost in all respects, except in beauty, though her )}oauty even was of a higher style than that of Mrs. Rodney. Imogenc was cpiite natural, though refined. She had a fine disposition. All lier impulses Avere good and naturally noble. Slie had a greater intellectual range than Sylvia, and was niiieh more cultivated. This she OAved to her friendship with Mr. Waldersharc, Avho Avas entirely dcA'oted to her, and Avliose main object in life Avas to make CATrything contribute to her greatness. '*I hope he Avill come here next Aveek," slie said to Endymion. *' I heard from him to-day. He is at Venice. And he gives me such lovely descriptions of that cit}', that I shall never rest till I liaA-e seen it and glided in a gondola."
''Well, that 3'ou can easily do."
'•' Not so easily. It Avill ncA'er do to interfere Avith my lord's hunting — and Avhen hunting is over there is always something else — XcAvmarket, or the House of Lords, or rook-shooting."
'' I must say tliere is something delightful about Paris, Avhich you meet nowhere else," said Mr. Sidney Wilton to En- dymion. " For my part, it has the same effect on me as a bottle of champagne. When I think of Avhat avc AA'cre doing this time last year — those dreadful Xovcmber cabinets — I shud- der ! By the bye, the Count of Fcrroll says there is a chance of Lady Montfort coming here ; have you heard anything ? "
Endymion kncAV all about it, but he Avas too discreet ca'Cu to pretend to exclusiA'c information on that head. He thought it might be true, but supposed it depended on my lord.
340
EXDYMION.
" Oh ! Montfort Avill never come. lie will bolt it the last moment when the hull is full of packages. Their very sight ivill frighten him, and he will steal down to Princedown and read 'Don Quixote.'" •
Sidney Wilton was (luitc right. Lady Montfort arrived without her lord. '* lie threw me over almost as we were get- ting into the carriage, and I had quite given it up when dear Lady Eoehampton came to my rescue. She wanted to see her brother, and — here we are."'
The arrival of these two great ladies gave a stimulant to gayeties Avhicli were already excessive. The court and the ministers rivaled the balls and the banquets which were pro- fusely offered by the ambassadors and bankers. Even the great faubourg relaxed, and its halls of high ceremony and mysterious splendor were opt.'ned to those wlio in London had extended to man} of their order a graceful and abounding hos- pitality. It was with ditliculty, however, that they persuaded Lady Montfort to honor with her presence the embassy of her own court.
" I dined with those people once," she said to Endymion, "but I confess when I thought of those dear Granvirios, their enfrccs stuck in my throat."
There Avas, however, no lack of diplomatic banquets for the successor of Louise of Savoy. The S})lendid hotel of the Ccunt of Ferroll was the scene of festivals not to be exceeded in P.iris, and all in honor of this wondrous dame. Sometimes they were feasts, sometimes they were balls, sometimes they were little dinners, consummate and select, sometimes large receptions, multifarious and amusing. Iler pleasure was asked every morn, and, Avhenever slic Avas disengaged, she issued orders to his devoted household. Ilis boxes at opera or play were at her constant disposal ; his carriages Avere at her command, and she rode, in his society, the most beautiful horses in Paris.
The Count of Ferroll had Avished that both ladies should haA'c taken up their residence at his mansion.
"But I think AA'e had better not," said Lady Montfort to Myra. "After all, there is nothing like 'my crust of bread and liberty,' and so I think Ave had better stay at the Bristol."
1
''MASTER OF rilE SITUA'IIOX:'
Ul
lie last
sight
n and
CHAPTER LXXIV.
1^ "Go and talk to Adriana," said Lady Rocliampton to her
brother. "It seems to me you never speak to her.*'
Endymion looked a little confu>ed. ^ " Lady Montfort has plenty of friends here," his sister con- tinned. "You are not Avanted, and vou sliould ahvav-^ remeni- her those VnO have hcen our earliest and kindest friends. ''
There was something in Lacly Koehampton's words and look which rather jarred upon him. Anything like reproach or dissatisfaction from those lips and from tliat countenance, sometimes a little anxious hut always affectionate, not to say adoring, confused and even agitated him. lie was tempted to rejdy, hut, exercising .successfully the self-control which was the result rather of his life than of his nature, he said nothing, and, in ohedicncc to the intimation, immediately approached Miss Xcuchatel.
About this time AValdcrshare arrived at Paris, full of mag-
Inificent dreams which he called plans. He was delighted with Ids ofhce ; it was much the most important in the government, and more important because it Avas not in the cabinet. Well managed, it Avas power Avithout rcsjionsibility. He explained to Lady Beaumaris that an Under-Secretary of State for For- ' ,: cign Affairs, Avitli his chief in the House of Lords, AA'as ''mas-
ter of the situation.-' What the situation Avas, and Avhat the under-secretary was to master, he did not yet deign to inform Imogcne ; but her trust in Waldcrsharc Avas implicit, and she repeated to Lord Beaumaris, and to Mrs. Rodney, Avith an air i of mysterious self-complacency, that Mr. Waldershare Avas
\i "master of the situation." Mrs. Rodney fancied that this Avas
the correct and fashionable title of an under-secretary of state. Mr. Waldershare Avas going to make a collection of portraits of Under-Secretaries for Foreign Affairs Avhose chiefs had been in the House of Lords. It AA'ould be a collection of the most eminent statesmen that England had cA'cr produced. For the rest, during his Italian tour, Waldershare seemed to have con- ducted himself with distinguished discretion, and liad been
1
■
3i2
ENDYMIOX.
I
^'11 !
:'i
I i
i
careful not to solicit an audience of the Duke of Modena in order to renew his oath of allegiance.
When Lady Montfort successfully tempted Lady Roehamp- tou to be her traveling companion to Paris, the contemplated visit was to have been a short one — ''a week, perhaps ten days at the outside." The outside had been not inconsiderably passed, and yet the beautiful Berengaria showed no disposition of returning to England. Myra was uneasy at her own pro- tracted absence from her lord, and having made a last but fruitless effort to induce Lady Montfort to accompany her, she said one day to Endymion, "1 think I must ask you to take me back. And indeed you ought to be with my lord some little time before the meeting of Parliament."
Endymion was really of the same opinion, though he was conscious of the social difficulty which he should have to en- counter in order to elTeet his purpose. Occasionally a states- man in opposition is assisted by the same private secretary who was his confidant when iv office ; but this is not always the case — perhaps net even generally. In the present instance, tlie principal of Lord Roehampton's several secretaries had been selected from the permanent clerks in the Foreign Office itself, and therefore when his chief retired from his official duties, the priva';e secretary resumed his previous post, an act which necessarily terminated all relations between himself and the late minister, save those of private, though often still inti- mate acquaintance.
Kow one of the great objects of Lady Roehampton for a long time had been, that her brother should occupy a confi'''on- tial position near her husband. The desire had originally been shared, and even warmly, by Lady Montfort ; but the un 'i- pected entrance of Endymion into the House of Commons luw.. raised a technical difficulty in this respect which seemed to terminate the cherished prospect. Myra, however, was resolved not to regard these technical difficulties, and was determined to establish at once the intimate relations she desired between her husband and her brother. This purpose had been one of the principal causes which had induced her to accompany Lady Montfort to Paris. She wanted to sec Endymion, to see what
♦
1
»aH*«b.
LADY MOXTFOnrS 0 PI XI ON.
313
tlciia in
cliamp- npliitod en (lays tlcrably )osition n pro- ist but ler, she to take '\ some
be was to en-
states- rj wJio ays the stance, 3s liacl
Office official an act !lf and II inti-
for a .fi'^en- r' been ui] ':- s bau. od to olved lined ween lie of Lady what
he Avas about, and to prepare him for the future wliich she contemplated.
The view wliich Lady Montfort took of these matters Avas very difrcrent from tliat of Lady Eoehampton. Lady Mont- fort was in her ridiug habit, leaning back in an easy chair, witli licr Avhii) in one hand and tlie "Cluirivari" in the otlier, and she said, "Are you not going to ride to-day, Endymion ? "
"I tliink not. I wanted to talk to you a little about my })Ians, Lady Montfort."
'' Your plans ! Why should you have any i)lans ? "
''Well, Lady Eoehampton is about to return to England, and she proposes I should go with her." !# ''AVhy?"
And then Endymion entered into the whole case, the de- sirableness of being Avith Lord Eoehampton before the meeting of Parliament, of assisting him, working Avith liim, acting for him, and all the other expedient circumstances of the situation.
Lady Montfort said nothing. Being of an cuger nature, it was rather her habit to interrupt those Avho addressed her, es- pecially on matte? o she decmec'' disagreeable. Her husbtuul used to say, " Berengaria is a charming companion, but if slie Avould only listen a little more, she Avould have so mucli more to tell me." On the present occasi^on, Endymion had no rea- son to complain that he had not a fair opportunity of stating his vicAvs and Avishes. She was quite silent, changed color occasionally, bit her beautiful lip, and gently but constantly lashed her beautiful riding habit. When he paused, she in- ([uircd if he had done, and he assenting, she said, "1 think the whole thing preposterous. What can Lord Eoehampton have to do before the meeting of Parliament ? IIo has not got to Avrite the Queen's speech. The only use of being in opposi- tion is that AA^e may enjoy ourselves. The best thing that Lord Eoehampton and all his friends can do is to travel for a couple of years. Ask the Count of Ferroll Avhat he thinks of the situ- ation, lie will tell you that he never knew one more hopeless. Taxes and tariffs — that's the future of England, and, so far as I can see, it may go on for ever. The government here desires nothing better than Avhat they call Peace. What they mean
S44
ENDYMIOX.
by i)c;icc is agiotage, shares at a premium, and bubble com- panies. Tlic whole thing is corrupt, as it ever must be when goTernment is in the hands of a mere middle class, and that, too, a limited one ; but it may last hopelessly long, and in the mean time, ' Vive la bagatelle ! ' "
"These are very different views from those which, I had understood, were to guide us in opposition," said Endymion, amazed.
"There is no opposition,'' rejoined Lady Montfort, some- what tartly. "For a real opposition there must be a great policy. If your friend, Lord Roehampton, when lie was settling the Levant, had only seized upon Egyjit, we should have been somewhere. Now, w^c are the party who wanted to give, not even cheap bread to the people, but only cheajjcr bread. Paugh ! "
" AYell, I do not think the occupation of Egypt in the pres- ent state of our finances — "
" Do not talk to mo about * the present state of our finances.' You are worse than Mr. Sidney Wilton. The Count of FerroU gays that a ministry which is upset by its finances must be essen- tially imbecile. And that, too, in England — the richest country in the world ! "
"Well, I think the state of the finances had something to do with the French Revolution," observed Endymion quietly.
" The French Revolution ! You might as Avell talk of the fall of the Roman Empire. The French Revolution was founded on nonsense — on the rights of man ; Avhen all sensible peoj)lo in every country are now agreed, that man has no rights Avhat-
€ver.
»j
"But, dearest Lady Montfort," said Endymion, in a some- what deprecating tone, " about my returning ; for that is the real subject on which I wished to trouble you."
"You have made up your mind to return," she replied. " What is the use of consulting me with a foregone conclusion ? I suppose you think it a compliment."
"I should be very sorry to do anything without consulting you," said Endymion.
"The worst person in the world to consult," said Lady
V),_.
READY TO J>EPAin\
com-
wlien
tliat,
in the
«
Montfort impatiently. "If you want advice, you liad better go to your sister. ^len wlio are guided ])y their sisters sekloni mako very great mistakes. Tliey are generally so prudent ; and, I must say, I think a prudent man quite detestable."
Endymion turned pale, his lij) quivered, what might have been the winged words they sent forth it is now impossible to record, for at that moment the door opened, and the servant announced that her ladysliip's horse was at the door. Lady Montfort Jumped up (luickly, and saying, ''Well, I suppose I shall see you before }ou go," disai)i)eared.
CHAPTER LXXV.
In" the mean time. Lady lioehampton was paying her faro- ■well visit to Ir-r former pupil. Tiiey were alone, and Adriana •was lianging on her neck and Aveeping.
*' We were so lia^^py," she murmured.
** And are so happy, and -will be," said Mvra,
"I feel I shall never be happy again," sighed Adriana.
" You deserve to be the happiest of human beings, and you will be."
"Never, never I"
Lady Eoehampton could say no more she pressed her friend to her heart, and left the room in silence.
AVlien she arrived at her hotel, her brother was leaving the house. Ilis countenance "was disquieted ; he did not greet her •with that mantling sunniness of aspect •which "was natural ta him "when they met.
"I have made all my farewells," she said, "and ho^v have you been getting on?" And she invited him to reenter the hotel.
" I am ready to depart at this moment," he said, somc"^'hafc fiercely, "and was only thinking how I could extricate myself from that horrible dinner to-day at the Count of Ferroll's."
"Well, that is not difficult," said Myra, " you can write a note here, if you like, at once. I think you must have seen quite enough of the Count of Ferroll and his friends."
:1
i
l«
I ■'! '
;ua
EXDYMfOy.
Eiidymion sat down at the tabic and aiinonnccd his intended non-appearance at the count's dinner, for it could not be called an excuse. When he had finished, his sister said :
** Do you know, we were nearly having a traveling compan- ion to-morrow ? "
He looked up witli a blush, for he fancied she was alluding to some previoui: scheme of Lady Montfort. ''Indeed!" he said, "and Avho ? "
" Adriana."
** Adriana ! " he repeated, somewhat relieved ; " would she leave her fiimily ? " H
" She had a fancy, and I am sure I do not know any com- panion I could prefer to her. She is the only person of whom I could truly say, that every time I sec her I love her more." i,^
" She seemed to like Paris very much," said Endymion, a little embarrassed.
" The first part of her visit," said Lady Rochampton, '•' she liked it amazingly. But my arrival and Lady Montfort's, I fear, broke up their little parties. You were a great deal with the Ncuchatels before we came ? " ^'
"They are such a good family," said Endymion, "so kind, so hospitable, such true friends. And ^Mr. Keucliatel himself is one of the shrewdest men that j^robably ever lived. I like talking with him, or, rather, I like to hear liim talk."
'• Oh, Endymion," said Lady Eoehampton, "if you were to marry Adriana, my happiness would be complete."
"Adriana will never marry," said Endymion; "she is afraid of being married for her money. I know twenty men who would marry her if they thought there was a chance of being accepted ; and the best man, Eusford, did make her an offer — that I know. And where could she find a match more V*
suitable ? — high rank, and large estate, and a man that every- body speaks well of."
"Adriana will never marry, except for the affections ; there you are right, Endymion. She must love and she must be loved ; but that is not very unreasonable in a person "who is young, pretty, accomplished, and intelligent."
"She is all that," said Endymion, moodily.
I
NO HESITATION.
347
I" he
** And filic loves you,'' said Lady lu)L'luim})toii.
Eiidymion nitlicr started, looked up for a moment at I'lis sister, and then withdrew as hastily an agitated glance, and then with his eyes on the ground said, in a voice half munuur- ^ ing and yet scotllngly : *• I should like to sec Mr. Neuchatel's
face were I to ask permission to marry his daughter. I sup- pose he would not kick me down stairs ; that is out of fashion ; ,A but he certainly would never ask me to dinner again, and that
wouhl be a sacrifice."
*' You jest, Endymion ; I am nut jesting."
** There are some matters that can only be treated .is a jest, and my marriage with Miss Neuchatel is one."
" It would make you one of the most ijov.-crful men in Enghmd," said his sister.
"Other impossible events would do the same." ,i ''It is not impossible, it is very possible," said his sister,
''believe me, trust in me. The hai)piness of their daughter is more precious to the Neuchatels even than their fortune."
"I do not see why, at my age, I should be in such a hurry to marry," said Endymion.
" You can not marry too soon, if by so doing you obtain the great object of life. Early marriages are to be deprcctited, es- pecially for men, because they are too frefpiently imprudent ; but when a man can marry while he is young, and at once re- alize, by so doing, all the results which successful time may bring to him, he should not hesitate."
"I hesitate very much," said Endymion. "I should hesi- tate very much, even if affairs were as promising as I think you may erroneously assume."
"But you must not hesitate, Endymion. We must never forget the great object for Avhicli we two live, for which I believe, we were born twins — to rebuild our house ; to raise it from pov- erty, and ignominy, and misery and squalid shame, to the rank and position which we demand and which we believe we deserve. Did I hesitate when an offer of marriage was made to me, and the most unexpected that could have occurred ? True it is, I married the best and greatest of men, but I did not know that when I accepted his hand. I married him for your sake, I mar-
348
END YMIOX.
ried bim for my own sake, for the sake of the liou o of Fcrrars, which I wished to release and raise from its pit of dcsohition. I married him to secure for us both that opportunity for our qualities which they had lost, and which I believed, if enjoyed, would render us powerful and great."
Endymion rose from his scat and kissed his .'^ister. 'SSo long as you live," he said, " we shall never be ignominious."
" Yes, but I am nothing ; I am not a man, I am not a Fcr- rars. The best of me is that I may be a transient help to you. It is you who must do the deed. I am wearied of hearing you described as Lady Roehamptou's brother, or Lord Roehampton's brother-in-law. I shall never be content till you are greater than we are, and there is but only one and one immediate way of accomplishing it ; it is by this marriage — and a marriage with whom ? with an angelic being ! "
"You take me somewhat by suri)rise, Mj-ra. My thoughts have not been upon this matter. I can not fairly describe my- self at this moment as a marrying man."
*' I know what you mean. You have female friendships and I approve of them. They are invaluable to youth, and you have been greatly favored in this respect. They have been a great a,ssistance to you ; beware lest they become a hindrance. A few years of such feelings in a woman's life are a blazoned page, and when it is turned she has many other chapters though they may not be as brilliant or adorned. But these few years in a man's life may be, and in your case certainly would be, the very marrow of liii destiny. During the last five or six years, ever since our emancipation, there has been a gradual but continuous development in your life. All has been preparatory for a posi- tif n which you have acquired. That position may lead to any- thing— in your case, I will still believe, to everything — but th^re must be no faltering. Having crossed the Alps, you must not find a Capua. I speak to you as I have not spoken to you of late, because it was not necessary. But here is an opportunity which must not be lost. I feel half inspired, as when we part- ed in our misery at Hurstley, and I bade you, poor and obscure, go forth and conquer the world."
Late on the night of the day, their last day at Paris, on
\
^ .icjf^.»«aft
''OUR OWN liEPOnTEUr
340
5>
■\vhicli this conversation took place, Endymion received a note in a well-known handwriting, and it ran thus :
"If it he any satisfaction to you to know that you made mc very unhappy by not dining here to-day, you may be grati- fied. I am very unhappy. I know that I was unkind this morning, and rude, but as my anger was occasioned by your leaving me, my conduct might annoy but surely could not mortify you. I shall see you to-morrow, however early you may depart, as I can not let your dear sister leave Paris without
my embracing her.
"Your faithful friend,
" Berexgakia."
CHAPTER LXXVI.
on
Ix old days, it Avas the habit to think and say that the House of Commons Avas an essentially " queer place," which no one could understand until he was a member of it. It may, perhaps, be doubted whether that somewhat mysterious quality still altogether attaches to that assembly. " Our own Report- er" has invaded it in all its purlieus. No longer content with giving an account of the s})eeches of its members, he is not satisfied unless he describes their persons, their dress, and their characteristic mannerisfms. He tolls us how they dine, even the wines and dishes which they favor, and follows them into the very m^'steries of their smoking-room. And yet there is perhaps a certain fine sense of the feelings, and opinions, and liumors of this assembly, which can not be acquired by hasty notions and necessarily superficial remarks, but must be the result of long and patient observation, and of that quick sym- pathy with human sentiment, in all its classes, which is in- volved in the possession of that inestimable quality styled tact.
Wlien Endymion Ferrars first took his seal in the House of Commons, it still fully possessed its character of enigmatic tra- dition. It had been thought that this, in a great degree, would have been dissipated by the Reform Act of 1832, which sud-
350
JiXDYMIOK
1
m
m
'1 1
I
dcnly introduced into the hallowed precinct a number of indi-
vidi als whose education, manners, modes of thought, were dif- ferent from those of the previous inhabitants, and in some instances, and in some respects, quite contrary to them. But this was not so. After a short time, it was observed that the old material, though at first much less in quantity, had leavened the new mass ; that the tone of the former house was imitated and adopted, and that at the end of five years, about the time Endymion was returned to Parliament, much of its serene, and refined, and even classical character hud been recovered.
For himself, he entered the chambo)* with a certain degree of awe, Avhich, with use, diminished, bu never entirely disap- peared. The scene was one over which iiis boyhood even had long mused, and it was associated with all those traditions of genius, eloquence, and power that charn. and inspire youth. His practical acquaintance Avith the forms and habits of the House from his customary attendance on their debates as pri- vate secretary to a cabinet minister, was of great advantage to him, and restrained that excitement which dangerously accom- panies us when we enter into a new life, and especially a life of such deep and thrilling interests and such large proportions. This result was also assisted by his knowledge, at least by sight, of a large proportion of the old members, and by his j^ersonal and sometimes intimate acquaintance with those of his own party. There was much in his positi >n, therefore, to soften that awkward feeling of hciu^ i freshman, wL'ch is always embarrassing.
He took his place on the second bench of the opposition side of the house, and nearly behind Lord Eoehampton. Mr. Bertie Tremaine, whom Endymion encountered in the lobby as he was escaping to dinner, highly disapproved of this step. He had greeted End^-mion with affable condescension. " Yoo made your first mistake to-night, my dear Ferrars. Yoti should have taken your seat below the gangway and near me, on the Mountain. You, like myself, are a m;n ><: the ttitiire.'^
**I am a member of the opposition. I io not suppose it signifies much where I sit."
'' On the contrary, it signifies everything. After this great
I
TEE mountain:
351
Tory reaction there is nothing to be done now by speeches, and, in all probability, very little that can be effectually op- posed. ]\Iuch, therefore, depends upon where you sit. If you sit on the Mountain, the public imagination will be attracted to you, and when they are aggrieved, which they will be in good time, the public passion, which is called opinion, will look to you for representation. My advice to my friends now is to sit together and say nothing, but to profess through the press the most advanced opinions. We sit on the back bench of the gangway, and call ourselves the Mountain."
NotAvithstanding Mr. Bertie Tremaine's oracular revelations, Endymion was very glad to find his old friend Trenchard gen- erally his neighbor. He had a high opinion both of Trenchard's judgment and acquiremei ts, and he liked the man. In time they always managed to sit together. Job Thornl)erry took his seat below the gangway, on the opposition side, and on the floor of the House. Mr. Bertie Tremaine had sent his brother, Mr. Tremaine Bertie, to look after this new star, whom he was anxious should ascend the ^Mountain ; but Job Thornberry wishing to know whether the Mountain were going for '^ total and immediate," and not obtaining a sufficiently distinct reply, declined the proffered intimation. Mr. Bertie Trenudne, being a landed proprietor as Avell as leader of the Mountain, was too much devoted to the rights of labor to sanc- tion such middle-class madness.
*' Peel will have to do it," said Job. '^ You will see."
^'Peel now occupies the position of Necker," said Mr. Ber- tie Tremaine, '^and will make the &'A\\\q fiasco. Then you will at la.<t have a popular government."
"And the rights of labor?" asked Job. ''AH I hope is, I may have got safe to the States before that day."
"There will be no danger," said Mr. Bertie Tremaine. " There is this difference between the English Mountain and the French. The English Mountain has its government pre- pared- And my brother spoke to you because, when the hour arrives, I wished to see you a member of it."
"My dear Endymion," said Waldershare, "let us dine to- gether before we meet in mortal conflict, which I suppose will
\
352
EXDYMIOX.
(i:
|
1 |
. |
|
1 |
|
|
ij |
|
|
'■ |
I |
"i"
11 ;
be soon. J really think yonr Mr. Bertie Trcmainc the most absurd being out of Colney Hatch."
*' Well, he has a purpose," said Endymion ; "and they say that a man with a purpose generally sees it realized."
"What I do like in him," said Waldershare, "is this re- vival of the Pythagorean system, and leading a party of silence. That is rich."
One of the most interesting members of the House of Com- mons was Sir Fraunceys Scrope. He was the father of the House, though it was difficult to believe that from his apjicar- ance. He was tall, and had kept his distinguished figure ; a handsome man, with a musical voice, and a countenance now benignant, though very bright, and once haughty. He still re- tained the same fashion of costume in which he had rode up to Westminster more than half a century ago, from his seat in Derbyshire, to support his dear friend Charles Fox ; real top- boots, and a blue coat and buff waistcoat. He was a great friend of Lord Roehampton, had a large estate in the same county, and had refused an earldom. Knowing Endymion, he came and sat by him one d, ly in the House, and asked him, good-naturcd- l}', how he liked iiis new life.
"It is very different from what it was when I was your age. Up to Easter we rarely had a regular debate, never a party divi- sion ; very few people came up indeed. But there was a good deal of speaking on all subjects before dinner. We had the priv- ilege then of speaking on the presentation of petitions at any length, and we seldom spoke on any other occasion. After East- er there was always at least one great party fight. This was a mighty affair, talked of for weeks before it came off, and then rarely an adjourned debate. AVe were gentlemen, used to sit up late, and should have been sitting up somewhere else had we not been in the House of Commons. After this party fight, the House for the rest of the session was a mere club."
" There was not much business doing then," said Endymion.
"There was not much business in the country then. The House of Commons was very much like what the House of Lords is now. You went home to dine, and now and then came back for an important division."
^iPfflWKW^WS'W
TOPSY turvy:
353
most
a
^' But you must always Lave had the estimates here," said Endymion.
" Yes, but they ran througli very easily. Hume was the first man who attacked tlic estimates. What are you going to do with yourself to-day ? Will you take your mutton with me ? You must come in boots, for it is now dinner-time, and you must return, I fancy. Twenty years ago, no man would think of coming doAvn to the House except in evening dress. I re- member so late as I\Ir. Canning, the minister always came down in silk stockings and j^antaloons, or knee breeches. All things change, and quoting Virgil, as that young gentleman has just done, will be the next thing to disappear. In the last Parlia- ment we often had Latin quotations, but never from a member with a new constituency. I have heard Greek quoted here, but that was long ago, and a great mistake. The House was quite alarmed. Charles Fox used to say as to quotation — ' No Greek ; as much Latin as you like ; and never French under any cir- cumstances. No English poet unless he had completed his cen- tury.' These were like some other good rules, the unwritten orders of the House of Commons."
CHAPTER LXXVn.
VrniLE parliaments Avere dissolving and ministries forming, the disappointed seeking consolation and the successful enjoy- ing their triumph, Simon, Earl of Montfort, who just missed being a great philosopher, was reading ''Topsy Turvy," which infinitely amused him ; the style so picturesque and lambent ! the tone so divertingly cynical ! And if the knowledge of so- ciety in its pages Avas not so distinguished as that of human nature generally, this Avas a deficiency obvious only to a com- paratiA^ely limited circle of its readers.
Lord Montfort had reminded Endymion of his promise to introduce the distinguished author to him, and accordingly, after due researches as to his dAvelling-place, Mr. Ferrars called in Jermyn Street and sent up his card, to knoAv AA'hether Mr.
351
ENDYJJWK
I
i
St. Barbe would receive liim. Tliis was ovirlently not a matter- of-course affair, and some little timo had elapsed when the maid-servant reappeared, and beckoned to Endymion to fol- low her up stairs.
In the front drawing-room of the first floor, robed in a flaming dressing-gown, and standing with his back to the fire and to the looking-glass, the frame of which was incrusted with cards of invitation, the former colleague of Endymion received his visitor with a somewhat haughty and reserved air.
"Well, I am delighted to see you again," said Endymion.
No reply but a ceremonious bow.
*' And to congratulate you," Endymion added after a mo- ment's pause ; "I hear of nothing but of your book ; I sup- pose one of the most successful that has appeared for a long time."
''Its success is not owing to your friends/' said Mr. St. Barbe tartly.
" My friends," said Endymion ; " what could they have done to prevent it p -*'
" They need not have dissolved Parliament," said Mr. St. Barbe with irritation. "It was nearly fatal to me; it would have been to anybody else. I was selling forty thousand a month ; I believe more than Gushy ever reached ; and so they dissolved Parliament. The sale went down half at once — and now you expect me to support your party ! "
" Well, it was unfortunate, but the dissolution could hardly have done you any permanent injury, and you could scarcely expect that such an event could be postponed even for the ad- vantage of an individual so distinguished as 3'ourself."
" Perhaps not," said St. Barbe, apparently a little molli- fied, "but they might have done sometliing to show their re- gret at it."
"Something !" said Endymion, "what sort of thing ?"
" The prime minister might have called on me, or at least, have written to me a letter. I want none of their honors ; I liave scores of letters every day, suggesting that some high distinction should be conferred on me. I believe the nation expects me to be made a baronet. By the bye, I heard the
I
TWO OLD FRIEXDS.
355
other (liiy you luul got into Parliament ; I know nothing of these matters ; they do not interest me ; is it the fact ?"
" Well, I was so fortunate, and there are others of your old friends, Trenchardfor example."'
((
You do not mean to say that Trenchard is in Parlia- ment ! " said St. Barhc, throwing off all his affected reserve. '• AVell, it is too disgusting ! Trenchard in Parliament, and 1 obliged to think it a great favor if a man gives me ti frank ! Well, representative institutions have seen their day. That is something."
"I have come here on a social mission," said Endymion in a '^ nothing tone. "'There is a great admirer of yours Avho much wishes to make your acquaintance. Trusting to our old intimacy, of Avhich of course I am very proud, it was even hoped that you might waive ceremony, and come and dine."
''Quite impossible," exclaimed 8t. Barbe, and turning round, he pointed to the legion of invitations before him. *' You see, the world is at my feet. I remember that fcKow Seymour Ilicks taking me to his rooms to show mc a card he had from a countess. What would he say to this ?"
''Well, but you can not be engaged to dinner every day," said Endymion; "and you really may choose any l:'- you like."
" Well, there arc not many dinners among them, to be sure," said St. Barbe. " Small and earlies. How I hate a ' small and early ! ' Shown into a room Avhcre you meet a select fcAV who have been asked to dinner, and who arc chew- ing the cud like a herd of kine, and you are expected to tum- ble before them to assist their digestion ! Faugh ! N"o, sir ; we only dine out now, and avo think twice, I can tell you, before avc accept even an invitation to dinner. Who's your friend?"
'MVell, my friend is Lord Montfort."
"You do not mean to sdy that ! And he is an admirer of mine ? "
"An enthusiastic admirer."
" I will dine with Lord Montfort. There is no one who appreciates so completely and so highly the old nobility of
S56
ENDYMWX.
►I
England as myself. They are a real ari.^tocracy. None of the pinchbeck pedigrees and ormulu titles of the continent. Lord Montfort is, I think, an earl. A splendid title, earl ! an Eng- lish carl ; count goes for nothing. The Earl of Montfort ! An enthusiastic admirer of mine. The aristocracy of Eng- land, esiiecially the old ari.stocracy, arc highly cultivated. Sympathy from such a class is to be valued. I care for no other — I have always despised the million of vulgar. They have come to me, not I to them, and I have alwayn told them the truth about themselves, that they are a race of snobs, and they rather like being told so. And now for your day ? "
'' Why not this day if you be free ? 1 will call for you about eight, and take you in my brougham to Montfort House."
'* You have got a brougham ! Well, I suppose so, being a member of Parliament, though I know a good many members of Parliament who have not got broughams. But your family, I remember, married into the swells. I do not grudge it you. You were always a good comrade to me. I never knew a man more free from envy than \o\\, Ferrars, and envy is an odious vice. There arc people I know, who Avhcn they hear I have dined with the Earl of ]\rontfort, will invent all sorts of stories against me, and send them to what they call the journals of .society."
** Well, then, it shall bo to-day," said Endymion, rising.
"It shall be to-day, and to tell you the truth, I was think- ing this morning where I should dine to-day. What I miss here are the cafes. Now in Paris you can dine every day ex- actly as it suits your means and mood. You may dine for a couple of francs in a quiet unknown street, and very well, or yon may dine for a couple of napoleons in a flaming saloon, with windows opening on a crowded bonle\ard. London is deficient in dining capability."
" You should belong to a club. Do you not ? "
" So I was told by a friend of mine the other da}' — one of your great swells. He said I ought to belong to the Athe- naeum, and he would propose me, and the committee would
. ,~.— ^,- ,...Mu*^»m
A BAD STATE OF AFFAIRS.
35r
elect mc as a matter of course. They rejected me and elected a bishop. And then people are surprised that the Church is in danger ! "
CHAPTER LXXYIII.
The condition of England at the meeting of Parliament in 184:^ Avas not satisfactory. The depression of trade in the manufacturing districts seemed overwhelming, and continued increasing during the whole of the year. A memorial from Stockport to the Queen in the spring represented that moro than half the master spinners had failed, and that no less than three thousand dwelling-houses were untenanted. One fifth of the population of Leeds were dependent on the poor-rates. The state of Sheffield was not less severe — and the blast fur- naces of Wolverhampton were extinguished. There Averc al- most daily meetings, at Liverpool, Manchester, and Leeds, to consider the great and increasing distress of the country, and to induce ministers to bring forward remedial measures ; but, as these were impossible, violence was soon substituted for pas- sionate appeals to the fears or the humanity of the govern- ment. Vast bodies of the population assembled in Stalybridge, and Ashton, and Oldham, and marched into Manchester.
For a week the rioting was unchecked, but the govern- ment dispatched a strong military force to that city, and order was restored.
The state of affairs in Scotland was not more favorable. There Avere food riots in several of the Scotch towns, and in Glasgow the multitude assembled, and then commenced what they called a begging tour, but which was really a progress of not disguised intimidation. The economic crisis in Ireland Avas yet to come, but the whole of that country was absorbed in a harassing and dangerous agitation for the repeal of the union betAveen the two countries.
During all this time, the Anti-Corn-LaAV League Avas hold- ing regular and frequent meetings at Manchester, at which
.' ') O ^
exdymion:
W
stiitemeiits were iikkIc distinguished l)y great C'l.xiiicnce and little scru])lG. IJiit tho able leaders of this con federaey never succeeded in enlisting the sympathies of the great body of the poi)ulation. Between the masters and the workmen there was an alienation of feeling, which apj>arently never could be re- moved. This reserve, however, did not enli-i the Avorking classes on the side of the government ; they had their own object, and one Avhich they themselves enthusiastically cher- ished. And this was the Charter, a political settlement which was to restore the golden age, and which the master manufac- turers and the middle classes generally looked upon with even more apprehension than Iler Majesty's advisers. It is hardly necessary to add, ihat in a state of affairs like that which is here faintly but still faithfully sketched, the rapid diminution of the revenue was inevitable, and of course that decline main- ly occurred in the two all-important branches of the customs and excise.
There was another great misfortune also which at this tr}'- ing time hung; over England. Tho country was dejected. The humiliating disasters of Afghanistan, dark narratives of which were peiiodically arriving, had produced a more depress- ing effect on the spirit of the country than all the victories and menaces of Xapoleon in the heyday of his wild career. At home and abroad, there seemed nothing to sustain the national spirit ; financial embarrassment, commercial and manufacturing distress, social and political agitation on the one hand, and on the other, the loss of armies, of reputation, perhaps of empire. It Avas true that these external misfortunes could hardly be attribulod to the new ministry — but when a nation is thor- oughly perplexed and dispirited, they soon cease to make dis- tinctions between political parties. The country is out of sorts, and the ''government" is held answerable for the dis- order.
Thus it will be seen, that, though the new ministry were supported by a commanding majority in Parliament, and that, too, after a recent appeal to tho country, they were not popu- lar ; it may be truly said they were even tlie reverse. The opposition, on the contrary, notwithstanding their discomfiture,
1
.1 M'JW CHANNEL.
351)
ai)ci, on some subject-, tlieir di.-;gnice, were by no means dis- liearfened, and believed tliat tlierc were economical causes at work, which mu^^t soon restore tliem to power.
Tlie minister brouglit forward liis revision of the tariff, which was denounced by the League as futile, and in whicli anathema the o])position soon found it convenient to agree. Ilitd the minister included in his mea-nre that '"total and im- mediate repeal'' of the existin'j; corn laws which was preached by many as a panacea, the clfect would have been i»robably much the same. No doubt a tariff may aggravate, or may mitigate, such a condition of commercial depression as period- ically visits a s ate of society like that of England, but it does not produce it. It was produced in 18-i3, as it has been pro- duced at the present time, by an abuse of ca])ital and credit, and by a degree of production which the wants of the world have not warranted.
And yet all this time, there were certain influences at work in the great body of the nation, neitiier foreseen, nor for some time recognized, by statesmen and those great capitalists on whose opinion statesmen mucli d('i)cnd, which were stirring, as it were, like the unconscious power of the forces of nature, and whicli Avere destined to baftle all the calculations of persons in authority and the leading spirits of all parties, strengthen a per2)lcxed administration, confound a sanguine opposition, render all the rhetoric, statistics and subscriptions of the Anti- Corn-Law League fruitless, and absolutely make the Chartists forget the Charter.
*' My friends will not assist themselves by resisting the gov- ernment measures," said Mr. Xeuchatel, with his usual calm smile, half skeptical, half sympathetic. " The measures will do no good, but they will do no harm. There are no measures that will do any good at this moment. We do not want meas- ures ; what we want is a new channel."
That is exactly what was wanted. There wa-' abundant capital in the country and a mass of unemployed labor. But the markets on whicli they had of late depended, the American especially, were overworked and overstocked, and in some in- stances were not only overstocked, but disturbed by war, as
300
END nrroy.
the Chinese, for example — tiiul cai>ital a!ul labor wanted ''a new channel."
The new channel came, and all the persons of authority, alike political and commercial, seemed quite surprised that it had arrived ; but when a thing or a man are wanted, they gen- erally appear. One or two lines of railway, which had been long sleepily in formation, about this time wore finished, and one or two lines of railway, which had been finished for some time and Averc unnoticed, announced dividends and not con- temptible ones. Suddenly there was a general feeling in the country, that its capital should be invested in railways ; that the whole surface of the land should be transformed, and cov- ered, as by a network, Avith these mighty means of communica- tion. When the passions of the English, naturally an enthu- siastic people, are excited on a subject of finance, their will, their determination, and resource, are irresistible. This was signally proved in the present instance, for they never ceased subscribing their capital until the sum intrusted to this new form of investment reached an amount almost equal to the na- tional debt ; and this too in a very few years. The immediate effect on the condition of the country was absolutely prodigious. The value of land rose, all the blast furnaces were relit, a stim- ulant was given to every branch of the home trade, the amount suddenly paid in wages exceeded that ever known in this coun- try, and wages too at a high rate. Large portions of the labor- ing classes not only enjoyed comfort but commanded luxury. All this of course soon acted on the revenue, and both customs and especially excise soon furnished an ample surjilus.
It can not be pretended that all this energy and enterprise were free in their ojieration from tliose evils which, it seems, must inevitably attend any extensive public speculation, how- ever well founded. Many of the scenes and circumstances re- called the days of the South Sea Scheme. The gambling in shares of companies whicli were formed 07ily in name Avas Avith- out limit. The principal toAvns of the north established for ck exchanofes of their oAvn, and Le
i)urpose
especially,
one fifth of Avliose population had been authoritatiA'cly described in the first session of the ncAv Parliament as dependent on the
liV
^-^
J liKVIVAL or TRADE.
3«U
lilted
(<
a
uthority, \ tluit it tlicy gen- luul been lied, and for somo not con- ig in tlio ys ; that and cov- imunica- n entlin- licir will, riiis was 21' ceased this new ) the na- imcdiuto digioiTs. a stim- amoiint lis Conn- ie labor- luxury, customs
itcrprisG ; seems, 11, liow- uces re- 3liiig in as Avith- lied for lecially, escribed on the
4
poor-rate^, now boa>:tcd of a stock exchange wliicli in tlie ex- tent of its transactions rivaled that of the metropolis. And tlie gambling was universal, from the noble to the mechanic. It was conlined to no class and to no sex. The scene which took place at the Board of Trade on the last day on which plans could be lodged, and when midnight had arrived while crowds from the country were still lllling the h'.ll, and pressing at the doors, deserved and re(pilred for itsadcciuate rei)reseiitat!on the genius of a Hogarth. This was the day on which it was an- nounced that the total number of railway projects, on which deposits had been paid, had reached nearly to eight hundred.
What is remarkable in this vast movement in which so many millions were produced, and so many more promised, was, that the great loaders of the financial world took no i)art In it. The mighty loan-mongers on whose fiat the fate of kings and emi)ircs sometimes depended, seemed like men who, wit- nessing some eccentricity of nature, Avatcli it with mixed feel- ings of curiosity and alarm. Even Lombard Street, wliicli never Avas more Avanted, Avas inactive, and it Avas only by the irresistible pressure of circumstances that a banking firm Avhich had an extensive country connection was forced ultimately tO' take the leading part that Avas required, and almost uncon- sciously lay the foundation of the A'ast fortunes Avhicli it has realized, and organize the A'aried connection which it noAV com- mands. All seemed to come from the jiroviuccs, tind from unknoAvn peoi)le in the provinces.
But in all afl^'alrs there must be a leader, and a leader ap- peared, lie Avas more remarkable than the movement itself. lie Avas a London tradesman, though a member of Parliament returned for the first time to this House of Commons. This leader Ava.; Mr. Vigo.
Mr. Vigo l:'id foreseen Avhat Avas coming and had ])rei)ared for it. lie agreed Avitli Mr. Xeiichatel, Avhat Avas Avaiited Avas ''a new channel. " That channel lie thought he had discGA'- ercd, and he aAvaited it. He himself could command no incon- siderable amount of capital, and he had a folloAving of obscure rich friends Avho belicA'cd in him, and did Avliat he liked. Ilis daily visits to the City, except Avhen he Avas traveling OA'cr Eng-
10
362
ENDYMIOX.
I'it-i
land, and especially the north and midland counties, had their purpose and bore fruit. He was a director, and soon the chair- man and leading spirit, of a railway which was destined to be perhaps our most important one. He was master of all the details of the business ; he had arrived at conclusions on the (piestion of the gauges, which then was a ^;o«s asinorum for the multitude, and understood all about rolling stock and per- manent ways, and sleepers and branch lines, which were then cabalistic terms to the general. In his first session in Parlia- ment he had passed quietly and almost unnoticed several bills on these matters, and began to be recognized by the Cummit- tee of Selection as a member who ought to be "^ put on" for (piestions of this kind.
The great occasion had arrived, and Mr. Vigo was equal to it. He was one of those few men who awake one day and lind themselvc: famous. Suddenly it would seem that the name of Mr. Vigo was in everybody's mouth. Tlierc was only one sub- ject which interested the country, and he Avas recognized as the man who best understood it. He was an oracle, and, nat- urally, soon became an idol. The tariff of the ministers was forgotten, tlic invectives of the League were disregarded, their motions for the repeal of the corn laws were invariably defeated by large and contemptuous majorities. The House of Com- mons did nothing but pass railway bills, measures which were welcomed with unanimity by the House of Lords, Avhose estates were in consequence daily increasing in value. People went to the gallery to see Mr. Vigo introduce bills, and could scarcely restrain their enthusiasm at the spectacle of so much patriotic energy, whicli secured for them premiums for shares, which they held in undertakings of which the first sod was not yet cut. On one morning, the Great Cloudland Company, of Avhich he was chairman, gave their rpproval of twenty-six bills, Avhich he immediately introduced into Parliament. Next day the Ebor and North Cloudland sanctioned six bills under his advice, and affirmed deeds and agreements which affected all the principal railway projects in Lancashire and Yorkshire. A (quarter of an hour later, just time to hurry from one meeting to another, Avliere he was ahvays received with rampant enthu-
FlilFyDL Y 0 VER TURES.
363
niasm, Newcastle and the extreme nortli accepted liis dicta- torship. During a portion of two days, ho obtained the con- sent of shareholders to forty bills involving an expenditure of ten millions ; and the engagements for one session alone amount- ed to one hundred and thirty millions sterling.
Mr. Neuchatcl shrugged his shoulders, but no one would listen even to Mr. Neuchatel, when the prime minister liimsolf, supposed to be the most wary of men, and especiidly on financial subjects, in the very white heat of all this speculation, liimself raised the first sod on his own estat? in a project of extent and importance.
Throughout these extraordinary scenes, ^[r. Vigo, thongli not free from excitement, exhibited, on the whole, much self- control. He was faithful to his old friends, and no one prof- ited more in this respect than Mr. Rodney. That gentleman became the director of several lines, and vice-chairman of one over which Mr. Vigo himself presided. No one was surprised tliat Mr. Rodney tliorefore should enter Parliament, lie came in by virtue of one of those i)etitions that Taapolo Avas always cooking or baffling. ]Mr. Rodney Avas a supporter of tlie min- istry, and Mr. Vigo was a Liberal, but Mr. Vigo refunded ^h\ Rodney to Parliament all tlie same, and no one seemed aston- ished or complained. Political connection, political consistency, pfilitical principle, all vanished before the fascination of pre- miums.
As for Endymion, the great man made him friendly and jarnest overtures, and offered, if he would give his time to busi- ness, which, as he was in opposition, would be no great sacri- fice, to promote and secure his fortune. But Endymion, after due reflection, declined, though witli gratitude, these tempting proposals. Ferrars was an ambitious nnm, but not too imagi- native a one. He liad a main object in life, and that was to regain the position which had been forfeited, not by his own fault. His grandfather and liis fatlier had both been privy councilors and ministers of state. There hatl, indeed, been more than the prospect of liis father filling a A'ery prominent position. All had been lost, but the secret purpose of the life of Endymion was that, from Ijc-ng a clerk in a public office, ho
3(U
EMjY.UFOX.
Mi
I
!
w
should arrive by his oun tiiergies at the statit-n to whicli lie sGcmcd, as it were, horn. To acconiplisli this lie felt that tlio entire devotion of his hihcir ami thought were requisite. Ilis character Avas essentially tenacious, and he had already realized no inconsiderable amount of political knowledge and oflicial exi)erience. His object seemed difficult and distant, hut there was notliing wild or visionary in its pursuit. He had achieved some of the first steps, and he was yet very young. There were friends about him, however, who Avero not content with what they deemed his moderate ambition, and thouglit they discerned in him qualities which might enable him to mount to ji higher stage. However this might be, his judgment Avas that he must resist the ofiers of Mr. Vigo, though they Avcro sincerely kind, and so he felt them.
In the mean time he frequently met that gentleman, and not merely in the House of Commons. ]\Ir. St. Barbe Avould have been frantically envious could he Iuia'c Aritnes'cd and perused the social invitations that fell like a continuous snoAV-storm on the favored roof of Mr, Vig'). ]\Ir. Vigo Avas not a party ques- tion. He dined Avith high patricians Avho forgot their political ditTerenccs, Avhile they agretd in courting the presence of this great benefactor of his country. The fine ladies AA'crc as eager in their homage to this real patriot, and he might bo seen be- tAveon riA'al countesses Avho emulated each other in their appre- ciation of his public services. These Avero Mr. Vigo's danger- ous suitors. He confessed to Endymion one day that he could not manage the great ladies. "Male swells," he Avould say laughingl}', "I luwe measured })hysically and intellectually." The golden youth of the country seemed indeed fascinated by his society, repeated liis sententious bon-mots, and aivplicd for shares in every company which he launched into i)rosperou3 existence.
Mr. Vigo purchased a splendid mansion in St. James' Square, Avliere invitations to his ban(iuets AA'ere looked upon almost as commands. His chief cook Avas one of the celebri- ties of Europe, and though he had served emiierors, the salary he received from Mr. Vigo exceeded any one he Jiad hitherto condescended to pocket. 3[r. Vigo bought estates, hired moors,
JOB TnORXBERJ^Y'S POSITIOX.
?.q:->
lavi.slicd liis money, not only -with })rofusion, but -witli generos- ity. Everything Avas placed at hi.s command, and it ai)peared that there was nothing tliat he refused. ''When the excite- ment is over," said Mr. Bertie Tremaine, '' I hope to induce liim to take India."'
In the midst of tliis commanding effulgence, the calmer heam of Mr. Kodney miglit naturally pass unnoticed, yet its brightness was clear and sustained. The Kodneys engaged a dwelling of no mean ])roportion in that favored district of South Kensinuton, which was then l^o-jinnino: to assume the liioh character it has since obtained. Tlieir Cfiuipagcs were distin- guished, and when Mrs. liodncy entered the Park, driving her matchless ponies, and attended l)y outriders, and herself bright as Diana, the world leaning over its palings witnessed her ap- pearance with equal delight and admiration.
CIIAPTEK LXXIX.
We have rather anticipated, fur the sake of the subject in our last chapter, and we must now recur to the time when, after his return from Paris, Endymion entered into what was virtually his first session in the House of Ccmmons. Though in ojipo- sition, and with all the delights of the most charming society at his command, he was an habitual and constant attendant. One might have Ijeen tempted to believe that he would turn out to be, though a Avorking. only a silent member, but his silence was only prudence. He was deeply interested aiul amused in watching the proceedings, especially when tlio-o took part in them Avitli whom he wjs acquainted. Job Tlu^rii- berry occupied a leading position in the debates. He addressed the House very shortly after he took his seat, and having a purpose and a most earnest one, and being what is styled a representative man of his subject, the House listened to him at once, and his place in debate was immediately recognized. The times favored him, especially during the first and seeor.d session, while the commercial de})re-sion lasted ; after^^ard, l.c
3G0
EXDYMIOX.
was listened to, because he had great oratorical gifts, a persua- sive style that was winning, and, though he had no inconsider- able poAvers of sarcasm, his extreme tact wisely guided him to restrain for the iircsent tluit dangerous, though most '^Tective, weapon.
Tlie Pythagorean school, as Waldershare styled Mr. Bertie Trcmaine and his following, very mucli amused Endymion. The heaven-born-minister air of the great leader was strik- ing, lie never smiled, or at any rate contemptuously. K^o- tice of a question was sometimes publicly given from this bencli, but so abstruse in its nature and so quaint iu its expres- sion, that the House never comprehended it, and the unfortu- nate minister who had to answer, even Avith twenty-four hours' study, Avas obliged t<^ commence hi eply by a conjectural in- terpretation of the query formally addressed to him. But thou<2-h thev Avere silent in the House, their views Avere other- Avise poAverfully represented. The Aveehly journal dcAoted to their i)rineiples Avas sedulously circulated among members of the House. It was called '• The Precursor,'- and systematically atta 1 not only every institution, but, it might be said, every hiAv, and all the manners and customs, of the country. Its style Avas remarkable : never excited or impassioned, but frigid, logical, and incisive, and suggesting appalling revolutions Avitli the calmness Avitli Avhich one Avould narrate the ordinary inci- dents of life. The editor of ''The Precursor" Avas Mr. JaAvett, selected by that gre.it master of human miture, Mr. Bertie Trc- maine. "When it got about, that the editor of this fearful jour- nal Avas a clerk in a i>ublic oilice, the indi^.^ation of the govern- ment, or at least of their supporters, Avas extreme, and there Avas no end to the puni.'-hments and disgrace to Avhich he Avas to be subjected ; but W..!dershare, Avho lived a gjod deal in Bohe- mia, Avas essentially cosmopolitan, and dabbled in letters, persuaded his colleagues not to make the editor of the " Pre- cursor" a martyr, and undertook Avith their authority to counteract his evil jnirpose by literary means alone.
Being fully empoAvered to take all necessary ste])s for this object, "^'(^aldershare thought that there Avas no better mode of iiiTCsting })u;>lic attention to his enterprise than by engagi..^
»•■-
I
|
1 |
ii |
|
1 |
i |
|
Drsuji- sider- ini to ctive. |
|
|
»ertio |
A |
EXDYMIOX'S FIRST ATTEMPT.
307
for its manager tlic most renowned pen of the liour, and lie oi)ened himself on the subject in tlie most sacred confidence to Mr. St. Barhe. That gentleman, invited to call upon a minis- ter, s'vorn to secrecy, and brimful of state secrets, could not long restrain himself, and 'vith admirable discretion consulted on his views and prospects Mr. Endymion Ferrars.
*'But I thought you were one of us," said Endymion; '*you asked me to put you in the Avay of getting into Brookes' ? *'
"AVhat of that?-' said Mr. St. Barbc ; ^'and when you remember what the Whigs owe to literary men, they ought to have elected me into Brookes' without my asking for it."
" Still, if vou be on the other side ? "
**It is nothing to do with sides," said Mr. St. Barbe ; '' this affair goes far beyond sides. The ' Precursor ' wants to put down the Crown ; I shall i)ut down the ' Precursor.' It is an affair of tho ioset, not of sides — an afPair of the royal closet, sir. I am . ocmg for tlie Crown, sir ; the Crown has appealed to me. I save the Crown, and there must be personal relations with the highest," and he looked quite fierce.
'MVcll, you have not written your first article yet," said Endymion. "I shall look forward to it with much in- tcrest."
After Easter, Lord Roehampton said to Endymion that a (piestion ought to be put on a subject of foreign policy of im- portance, and on which he thought the ministry were in diffi- culties ; *' And 1 think you might as well ask it, Endymion. I A\ill draw up the cpiestion, and you Avill give notice of it. It will bo a reconnoissance."
The notice of ihis question was the first time Endymion <)l)ened his mouth in the House of Commons. It was an hum- ble and ?iot a very hazardous office, but when ho got on his legs his head swam, his heart beat so violently that it was like a convulsion preceding death, and though he was only on his legs for a fcAV seconds, all the sorrows of his life seemed to pass before him. When ho sat dow'n, he was quite surprised that the business of the house proceeded as usual, and it was only after some time that he became convinced that no one but him-
11
368
END YMIOX.
8olf WHS conscious of his sufferings, or that lie had performed a routine duty otlierwiso than in a routine manner.
The crafty question, however, led to some important con- sequences. When asked, to the surprise of every one the min- ister himself replied to it. AValdersharo, Avith whom En- dymion dined at Bellamy's that day, was in no good humor in consequence.
When Lord Tlocliampton had considered the ministerial rej)ly, he said to Endymion, "This must he followed up. You must move for pajiers. It will he a good oiijjortunity for you, for the House is up to something heing in the wind and they ■will listen. It will he curious to see Avhether the minister fol- lows you. If so, he will give me an opening."
Endymion felt that this Avas the crisis of his life. lie knew the subject well, and he had all the tact and experience of Lord Ivochampton to guide him in his statement and his argu- ments. He had also the great feeling that, if necessary, a powerful arm Avould sui)i)ort him. It Avas jibout a Avcek l)eforo the day arrived, and Endymion slcjjt A'cry little that AVcek, and the night before his motion not a Avink. lie almost Avished ho •was dead as he walked down to the House in the hope that the exercise might remedy, or improve, his languid circulation ; "but in A'ain, and Avhen his name Avas called and he had to rise, his hands and feet Avere like ice.
Lady Roehampton and Lady ]\Iontfort Avcro Ijolh in the ventilator, and ho kncAV it.
It might be said that he Avas sustained by his utter despair. He felt so feeble and generally imbecile, that he had not vital- ity enough to be sensible of failure.
He had a kind audience, and an interested one. When ho o})ened his mouth, he forgot his first sentence, Avhich he had long prepared. In trying to recall it and failing, he was for a moment confused. But it AA'as only for a moment ; the un- premeditated came to his aid, and his A'oice, at first tremulous, Avas recognized as distinct and rich. There Avas a murmur of t^ympathy, and not merely from his own side. Suddenly, both physically and intellectually he Avas quite liimself. His ar- rested circulation flowed, and fed his stagnant brain. His
\
WA LDER^IL 1 A'/; ESRA G ED.
8(;',)
rmccl 11
t con- ic min- Eu-
inor in
btcitemont was lucid, his iirgunu'iit-; Averc difticuU to encounter, and his manner Avas modest. He sat down amid general aji- planse, and though he was then conscious that lie had omitted more than one point on whicli he had relied, ho was on the whole satisfied, and recollected that he niiglit use them in reply, a privilege to which he now looked J'oi-ward with feelings of comfort and confidence.
The minister again followed liim, and in an elaljorate speech. The subject, evidently in the opinion of the minister, was of too delicate and diflicult a character to trust to a subordinate. Overwhelmed as he was Avitli the labors of his own dei)artment, the general conduct of alfairs, and the leadership of the House, he still would undertake the representation of an oflice with "whose business he was not familiar. Wary and accurate he always was, but in discussions on foreign alfairs, he never ex- hibited the unrivaled facility with which he ever treated a com- mercial or financial rpiestion, or that plausible promptness with Avliich at a moment's notice, he could encounter any dilliculty connected with domestic administration.
All these "were qualities which Lord Roehampton possessed "with reference to the affairs over whicli he had long jircsided, and in the present instance, following the minister, lie was particularly happy. He had a good case, and lie was gratified by the success of Endymion. He ooniplimented him and con- futed his opponent, and not satisfied with demolishing his arguments, Lord Roeliampt<»n indulged in a little raillery Avhicli the House enjoyed, but which was never pleasing to the more solemn organization of his rival.
Xo language can describe the fury of Waldershare as to the events of this evening. He looked upon the conduct of the minister, in not permitting him to represent his department, as a decree of the incapacity of his su])ordinaLe, and of the vir- tual termination of the official career of the Lender-Secretary of State. Ho would have resigned the next day had it not been for the influence of Lady Beaumaris, Avho soothed him by suggesting, that it would be better to take an early opportunity of changing his present post for another.
The minister was Avrong. He "SA'as not fond of trustina:
^70
EXDYMfON.
youtli, but it is a coiificlencc which should be exercised, par- ticuhirly in the conduct of a popular assembly. If the under- secretary had not satisfactorily answered Endyniion, wliich no one had a right to assume, for Waldersharc was a brilli.iiit man, the minister could have always advanced to the rescue at the fitting time. As it was, he made a personal enemy of one who naturally might liave ri])cned into a devoted follower, and who from his social influences, as well as from his political talents, was no despicable foe.
CHAPTER LXXX.
NoTWiTHSTAXDixci the great political, and consequently social, changes that had taken place, no very considerable al- teration occurred in the general life of those chief pei'sonages in whose existence Ave have attempted to interest the reader. However vast may ajipear to be the world in which we move, we all of us live in a limited circle. It is the result of circum- stances ; of our convenience and our taste. Lady Beaumaris became the acknowledged leader of Tory society, and her hus- band was so pleased with her position, and so i)roud of it, that he in a considerable degree sacrificed his own pursuits and pleasures for its maintenance. He even refused the mastership of a celebrated hunt, whicli had once been an object of his liighcst ambition, that he might be early and always in London to support his wife in her receptions. Imogene herself was universally popular. Iler gentle and natural manners, blended with a due degree of self-respect, lier charming appearance, and her ready but unaffected sympathy, won every heart. Lady Roehampton was her frequent guest. ]Myra continued her duties as a leader of society, as her lord was anxious that the diplomatic world should not forget him. These were the two principal and rival houses. The efforts of Lady Montfort were more fitful, for they were to a certain degree dependent on the moods of her husband. It was observed that Lady Beaumaris never omitted attending the receptions of Lady Roe- liampton, and the tone of almost reverential affection with
I
I
)
nil-: rA'i.vr/rs' r; tests.
371
)ai'- ler-
iio ail, the •lio
\o
its,
wliicli slic over approached ]\[yra was touching to those who were in tlic secret, but they were few.
No great change occurred in the position of Prince Florcs- tan, except that in addition to the sports to which he was ap- parently devoted, lie gradually began to interest himself in the turf. lie had bred several horses of repute, nnd one, which ho had named Lady Roehanipton, was the favorite tor a celebrated race. Ilis highness was anxious that Myra fhould honor him liy being his guest. This had never occurred iK'fore, because Lord Uuehamplon felt that so avowed tin intimacy with a jier- sonagc in the peculiar jjosition of Prince Florestan was hanlly becoming a secretary of state for foreign aifairs ; but that he was no longer, and being the most good-natured man I hut ever lived, and casil} managed in little things!, he could nut refuse Myra when she consulted him, as tiiey call it, on the subject, and it was settled that Lord and Lady Iioehamploii were to dine with Prince Florestan. The prince was mo>t anxious that My. Sidney "Wilton should take this occasion of consenting to a reconciliation with him, and Lady Roehampton exerted her- self much for this end. Mr. Sidney Wilton was in love with Lady Pioehampton, and yet on this point he was inexorable. Lord and Lady Beaumaris went, and Lady Montfort, to whom the prince had addressed a private note of his own that quite captivated her, aiul Mr. and Mrs. Neuchatel and Adriaim. Walder'iharc, Endymion, and Baron Sergius, comijletcd the guests, who were received by the Duke of St. Angelo and a coui^le of aides-de-camp. When the prince entered all rose, and the ladies courtesied very low. Lord Koehami^ton resumed his seat immediately, saying to his neighbor, '•'! rose to show my respect to my host ; I sit down to show that I look upon him as a subject like myself.''
"A subject of whom ?" inquired Lady Montfort.
"There i- something in that," said Lord Kochampton, smiling.
The Duke of St. Angelo was much disturbcfl by the con- duct of Lord Rochampton, which had disappointed his calcu- lations, and he went about lamenting that Lord lloehampton had a little gout.
EXDYMIOX,
They luid assembled in ilie library and dined on tlio ,samo lloor. The prinee was seated bet\\oon Lady ^Montfort, uhoni lie acconii)anied to dinner, and Lady Roelianipton. Adriana fell to Endymion'.s lot. Slic looked very ])retty, was beauti- fully dressed, and for her, was even gay. Her com])anion was in good spirits, and she seemed interested and amused. 'J'ho prince never spoke much, but his remarks ahvays told, lie liked murmuring to Avomen, but when reijuisite, he eould throw a ily over the table with adroitness and effect. ^lorc than once during the dinner he whispered to f.ady Koehamp- ton : ''This is too kind — your coming here. V>\\i you have alwaj's been my best friend." The dinner woidd have been lively and successful even if AValdershare had not been there, but he to-day was exuberant and irresistible. His chief topic was abuse of the government of which he Avas a member, and lie lavished all his powers of invective and ridicule alike on the imbecility of their policy and their individual absurdities. All this much amused Lady ]\rontfort, and gave Lord Iioehampton an opportunity to fool the TTnder-Sccreta''y of State to the top of his bent.
"If you do not take care," said Mr. Xcuchatcl, "they will turn you out."
" I wish tliey would," said Waldersharc. " That is what I am longing for. I should go then all over the country and ad- dress public meetings. It would be the greatest thing since Sachcverell."
"Our people have not behaved Avell to Mr. Waldersharo," whispered Imogene to Lord Roehampton, " but I think we shall put it all right."
"DoA'ou believe it ?" inquired LadyMontfort of Lord Roc- hampton. He had been speaking to her for some little time in a hushed tone, and rather earnestly.
"Indeed I do ; I can not well see what there is to doubt about it. We know the father very well — an excellent man ; he ■was the parish priest of Lady Roehampton before her marriage, when she lived in the country. And Ave know from him that more than a year ago something was contemplated. The son gaA'o up his liA'ing then ; he has remained at Rome CA'cr since.
coyr/:ns'ATioy topics.
373
And now I am lt»l(l he returns to ii.s, the i'opc's legate and au arelibisho}) in 2^((yl iJ^'^s ! "
"It id most in teres ling," .-aid Lady Montfort. *'! was al- ways Ills great admirer."
*• I Know that ; you and Lady lioeliamplon made me go and hear liini. The father will he terribly distressed."
'• I do not care at all about the father," said Lady Mont- fon ; " hut tlic son had such a line voice and was so very ffood- looking. I hope I shall see him."
'J'hey were speaking of Tsigel Penruddoek, whose move- ments had been a matter of much mystery during the last two years. Kumors of his having been received into the lioman Church had been often rife ; sometimes ilatly, and in timo fain 11 V, contradicted. Now the facts seemed admitted, and it would appear that he was about to return to England not only as a Roman Catholic, but as a distinguished priest of the Church, and, it Avas said, even the representative of the Pa- pacy.
All the guests rose at the same time — a pleasant habit — and went up-stairs to the brilliantly liglitcd saloons. Lord Roe- hampton seated himself by Baron Sergius, with Avhom he was always glad to converse. " We seem here quiet and content ? " said the ex-minister, inquiringly.
"I hope so, and I think so," said Sergius. ''He believes in his star, and will leave everything to its influence. There arc to be no more adventures."
*' It must be a great relief to Lord Roehampton to have got quit of office," said Mrs. Neuchatel to Lady Roehampton. "I always pitied him so much. I never can understand why peo- ple voluntarily incur such labors and anxiety."
** You should join us," said Mr. Neuchatel to Waldershare. *' They would be very glad to see you at Brookes'."
" Brookes' may ioin the October Club which I am cfoins: to revive," said Waldcrshare.
"1 never heard of that club," said Mr. Xeuchatel.
*'Itwas a much more important thing than the Bill of Riglits or the Act of Settlement," said Waldershare, '^'all the
same
5)
^>
.s^.
"^■'V>
IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3)
//
1.0
I.I
Ii2
2.5
iai2.8 I
|50 ■^" Mi
MM
|
M |
1.25 1.4 1.6 |
||
|
< |
6" |
^ ^ |
^
%
^^
/.
r
:N
*
c>
/
/A
Photographic
Sciences Corporation
23 WEST MAIN STREET
WEb»flR,N.Y. I4SS0
(716) 872-4503
4,
S:
iP
o
c<
k
C^
!I
'«!>•
«--
|
4 |
|
|
■ |
|
|
^ |
|
374
ENDYMION.
r
j»
It
H
"1 v/ant to sec his mother's portrait in the farther saloon, said Lady Montfort to Myra.
''Let us go together." And Lady Roeliampton rose and they went.
It was a portrait of Queen Agrijipina by a master liand, and admirably illumined by reflected light, so that it seemed to live.
*' She must have been very beautiful," said Lady Mont- fort.
*'Mr. Sidney Wilton was devotedly attached to her, my lord has told me," said Lady Roeliampton.
'SSo many were devotedly attached to her," said Lady Montfort.
''Yes ; she was like Mary of Scotland, whom some men are in love with even to this day. Her spell was irresistible. There are no such women now."
"Yes; there is one," said Lady Montfort, suddenly turn- ing round and embracing Lady Roehamjiton ; "and I know she hates me, because she thinks I i)revent her brother from marrying."
"Dear Lady Montfort, how can you use such strong ex- pressions ! I am sure there can be only one feeling of Endym- ion's friends to you, and that is gratitude for your kindness to him."
"I have done nothing for him ; I can do nothing for him. I felt that when we were trying to get him into Parliament. If he could marry, and be independent, and powerful, and rich, it would be better, perliajis, for all of us."
"I wish he were independent, and powerful, and rich," said Myra, musingly. "That would be a fairy tale. At pres- ent, he must bo content that he has some of the kindest friends in the world."
"He interests me very much ; no one so much. I am sin- cerely, even deeply, attached to him ; but it is like your love, it is a si&'er's love. There is only one person I really love in the world, and alas ! he does not love me ! " And her voice was tremulous.
"Do not say such things, dear Lady Montfort. I never
»
'', my Lady
u
AX EFFECT OX SOCIETY.
37
o
can believe what you somctiino;^ intimate on that subject. Do you know, I think it a little hallucination."
Lady Montfort shook her head with a truly mournful ex- pression, and then suddenly, her beautiful face wreathed with smiles, she said in a gay voice, '"We Mill not think of such sorrows. I wish them to be entombed in my heart, but the sjiecteis will rise sometimes. Now about your brother. I do not mean to say that it would not be a great loss to me if he married, but I wish him to marry if you do. For myself, I must have a male friend, and he must be very clevei-, and thoroughly understand politics. You know you deprived me of Lord Roehampton," she continued, smilingly, " who was everything I could desire ; and the Counl. of Ferroll would have suited mo excellently, but then he ran a.way. Now En- dymion could not easily run away, and he is so agreeable and 80 intelligent, that at last I thought I had found a companion worth helping— and I meant, and still mean, to Avork luird— until ho is prime minister."
"I have my dreams too about that," said Lady Roehamp- ton, " but we are all about the same age, and can wait a little."
*'IIe can not be minister too soon," said Lady Montfort. "It was not being minister soon that ruined Charles Fox."
The party broke up. The prince made a sign to Walder- share, which meant a confidential cigar, and in a few minutes they were alone together.
''What women !" exclaimed the prince. ''Not to be ri- valed in this city, and yet 'iuite unlike each other."
"And which do you admire most, sir ? " said Waldershare.
The prince trimmed his cigar, and then he said, "I v»ill tell you, this day five years."
CHAPTER LXXXL
> The ecclesiastical incident mentioned at the dinner de- scribed in our last chapter, produced a considerable effect in what is called society. Nigel Penruddock had obtained great
\
i
o<0
EXDYMION.
cc'lchrity as !i preacher, Avhilo lii.i extreme doctrines and prac- tices had alike amazed, fascinated, and alarmed, a lar^c portion of (he pnhlic. For some time ho had withdrawn from the poi)ular gaze, but his individuality was too strong to be easily forgotten, even if occasional paragraphs as to his views and conduct, pu))lished, contradicted, and reiterated, were not suf- ficient to sustain, and even stimulate, curiosity. That lie was about to return to his muivc land, as tlie Legate y.1 Jlis Holi- ness, Avas an event which made many men look grave, and some female hearts lluttcr.
The memory of Lady Iioehamiiton could not csca})e from the past, and she could not recall it and all the scenes at llurstley without emotion ; and Lady Montfort remembered with some pride and excitement, that the Legate of the Po])c liad once been one of her heroes. It was evident that he had no wish to avoid his old accpiaintance?, for shortly after his arrival, and after he had assembled his sutTragans, and instruct- ed the clergy of his district, for dioceses did not then exis;t, Archbishoi) Penraddock, for so the Metropolitan of 'iVre sim- ply styled himself, called upon both these ladies.
His first visit was to Myra, and notwithstanding her disci- jilined self-control, her intense pride, and the deep and daring fjpirit which always secretly sustained her, she was nervous and agitated, but only in her boudoir. "When she entered the sa- loon to welcome him, she seemed as calm as if she were going to an evening assembly.
Xigel was changed. Instead of that anxious and moody look which formerly marred the refined beauty of his counte- nance, his glance was calm and yit radiant. He was thinner, it might almost be said emaciated, Avhich seemed to add height to his tall figure.
Lady Roehaiupton need not have been nervous about the interview and the pain of its inevitable associations. Except one allusion at the end of his visit, when his grace mentioned some petty grievance, of which he wished to relieve his clergy, and said, *'I think I will consult your brother ; being in the oppositio7i, he will be less embarrassed tlian some of my friends in the government, or their supjiorters," he never referred to
1
%
A K cnnisiTo p vExn udd o ck.
0 going
377
the pa^'t. All he spoke of Avas tlie iiiagnitude of his ta.sk, tlio immense but inspiring hibors which awaited him, and his deep sense of his responsibility. Xotiiing but the Divine principle of the Church could sustain him. lie was at one time hope- ful that His Holiness might have tliought the time ripe for the restoration of the national hierarchy, but it was decreed other- wise. Had it been accorded, no doubt it would have assisted him. A prelate in 2)artihu!i is, in a certain sense, a stranger, whatever his duties, and the world is more willing when it is appealed to by ono who has "a local habitation and a name ; " he is identilled with the people among Avhom he lives. There was much to do. The state of the Catholic i)oor in his own district was heartrending. lie never could have conceived such misery, and that too under the shadow of the Abbey. The few schools which existrd were wretched, and his first attention must be given to this capital deficiency. lie trusted much to female aid. lie meant to invite the great Catholic ladies to unite with him in a common h'.bor of love. In this great center oi' civilization, and wealth, and i)ower, there was need of the spirit of a St. Ursula.
No one seemed more pleased by the return of Archbishop Penruddock than Lord ]\Iontf()rt. He ai)peared to be so deeply interested in his grace's mission, sought his society so often, treated him with such profound respect, almost ceremony, asked so many questions about what was happening at lionie, and Avhat was going to be done here — that Nigel might ha\c been pardoned if he did not despair of ultimately inducing Lord Montfort to return to the faith of his illustrious ances- tors. And yet, all this time. Lord Montfort was only amusing himself ; a new character was to him a new toy, and when he could not find one, he would dip into the "Memoirs of St. Simon."
Instead of avoiding society, as was his wont in old days, the archbishop sought it. And there was nothing exclusive in his social habits ; all classes and all creeds, all conditions and orders of men, were alike interesting to him ; they were part of the mighty community, with all whose pursuits, and pas- sions, and interests, and oocnpations, he seemed to symi)athize.
378
EXT) v.uioy.
but respecting -which he had only <uie object — to bring them buck once more to that imperial fold from which in an liour of darkness and distraction they had miserably wandered. The conversion of England was deei)ly engraven on the heart of Penruddock ; it was his constant purpose, and his daily and nightly i)rayer.
So the archbishop was seen everywhere, even at fasbionnblo assemblies. Tfc was a frequent guest at banquets wliich he never tasted, for lie was a smiling ascetic, and though ho gcenied to be preaching or celebrating high mass in every part of the metropolis, organizing schools, establishing convents, and building cathedrals, he could lind time to move philan- thropic resolutions at middle-class meetings, attend learned associations, and even occasionally send a paper to the Royal Society.
The i)erson who fell most under the influence of the arch- bishop was Waldershare. lie was fairly cai)tivated by him. Nothing would satisfy "NValdersliare till ho had brought the archbishop and Prince Florcstan together. " You are a Roman Catholic prince, sir," he would say. *'It is absolute folly to forego such a source of influence and power as the Roman Catholic Church. Here is your man ; a man made for the oc- casion, a man Avho may be pope. Come to an understanding with him, and I believe you will regain your throne in a year."
'' But, my dear Waldershare, it is very true I am a Roman Catholic, but I am also the head of the Liberal party in my country, and perhaps also on the continent of Europe, and they are not particularly affected to archbishops and popes."
'•Old-fashioned twaddle of the Liberal party," exclaimed Waldershare. ''There is more true democracy in the Roman Catholic Church than in all the -:ccret societies of Europe."
*' There is something in that," said the Prince, musingly, "and my friends arc Roman Catholics, nominally Roman Catholics. If I were quite sure your man and the priests generally were nominally Roman Catholics, something might be done."
"Aa; for that," stiid Waldershare, ''sensible men are till of the same religion."
A SECOND PITT.
379
liour of The curt of ily and
"Ami pray wluit is tluit ?" inquired the Prince.
*' Sensible men never tell."
Perhaps there was no family which suited him more, and where the archbishop became more intimate, tlian the Neucha- tels. lie very much valued a visit to llainault, and the mis- cellaneous and influential circles he met there — merchant princes, and great powers of Lombard Street and the Stock Exchange. The Governor of the Bank happened to bo a high churchman, and listened to the archbishop with evident relish. Mrs. Ncuchatel also acknowledged the spell of his society, and he quite agreed with her that people should be neither so poor nor so rich. She had long mused over plans of social ameliora- tion, and her new ally was to teach her how to carry them into l)ractice. As for Mr. Keuchatel, he was pleased that his wife Avas amused, and liked the archbishop as he liked all clever men. "You know," he would say, "lam in favor of all churches, provided, my lord archbishop, they do not do any- thing very foolish. Eh ? So I shall subscribe to your schools with great pleasure. AVe can not have too many schools, even if they only keep young people from doing mischief."
n
CIIAPTEPv LXXXII,
The prosperity of the country was so signal, while Mr. Vigo Avas unceasingly dire^;ting millions of our accumulated cajH- tal, and promises of still more, into the "new channel," that it seemed beyond belief that any change of administration could ever occur, at least in the experience of the existing generation. The minister to whose happy destiny it had fallen to gratify the large tippetites and reckless consuming i)owcrs of a class now fi-<t known in our social hierarcl y as "Navvies," was hailed as a second Pitt. The countenance of the opposition was habitually dejected, with the exception of those members of it on whom Mr. Vigo graciously conferred shares, and Lady Montfort taunted Mr. Sidney Wilton with inquiries, Avhy ho arid his friends had not made railroads, instead of inventing
-JSO
EXT) YM I ox.
nonsense about clicai) l)rc;u]. Job Thornbcrry made wonder- ful spceclies in favor of total and immediate repeal of the corn lav/s, and the Liberal party, while they cheered him, i)rivately exi)rcssed their regrets that such a capital Pi)eaker, -who might be anything, was not a practical man. Low prices, abundant harvests, and a tliriving commerce had rendered all appeals, varied even by the persuasive ingenuity of Thornbcrry, a wearisome iteration ; and, thougli the League had transplanted itself from Manchester to the metropolis, and hired tlicatres for their rhetoric, the close of 1845 found them nearly reduced to silence.
Mr. Bertie Tremaine, who was always studying the spirit of the age, announced to the initiated that Mr. Vigo had some- thing of the character and structure of Xapoleon, and that he himself began to believe, that an insular nation, with such an enormous appetite, was not adapted to cosmopolitan principles, which were naturally of a character more spiritual and abstract. jMr. Bertie Tremaine asked Mr. Vigo to dinner, and introduced Iiim to several distinguished youths of extreme opinions, who Avere dining off gold plate. Mr. Vigo was much ilattered by his visit ; his hoft made much of him ; and he heard many things on the i)rinciples of government, and even of society, in the largest sense of the expression, which astonished and amused him. In the course of the evening he varied the con- versation— one which became the classical library and the busts of the surrounding statesmen — by i)romising to most of the guests allotments of shares in a new company^ not yet launched, but whose securities were already at a high premium.
Endymion, in the mean time, pursued the even tenor of his way. Guided by the experience, unrivaled knowledge, and consummate tact of Lord lioehampton, he habitually made inquiries, or brought forward motions Avhicli Avere evidently inconvenient or embarrassing to the ministry ; and the very circumstance that he was always replied to by the prime minis- ter elevated him in the estimation of the House as much as the pertinence of his questions, and the accurate information on Avhicli lie founded his motions. He had not taken the House with a rush like Job Thornberrv, but, at the end of three ses-
rOTATOES.
3S1
womler- tlic corn n'ivatcly o iiiiglit Hindant nppcals,
5planted tlicatrcs I'cdaced
'pirit of 1 somc- tliat ]io snch an nciplos, bstract. odiiccd
IS, \S\\Q
'red by I many society, :'d and le con- 0 bnsts of the icJied,
of Jiis , and made [enily very iiinis- LS tJie )n on [ouse ) ses-
sions, ho Avus a personage universally looked upon as one who Avas ''certain to have ollice."
There was another new member who had also made wav, though slowly, and that was ]Mr. Trenehard ; he had distin- guished himself on a dillicult committee, on which he had guided a perplexed minister, Avho was chairman, througli many intricacies. Mr. Trenehard watched the o])erations of Mr. Vi;io with a calm, cold scrutinv, and ventured one dav to im- part his conviction to Ihidymion that there were breakers ahead. '*Vigo is exhausting the lloating capital of the country,'' he J said, and he oITered to Endymion to give him all tho necessary
details, if he would call the attention of the llou.e to the mat- ter. Endymion declined to do this chielly because he wished to devote himself to foreign alfairs, and thought the House would hardly brook his interference also in finance. So he strongly advised Trenehard himself to undertake tlrj task. Trenehard was modest, and a little timid about speaking; so it was set- tled that he should consult the leaders on the question, and particularly the gentleman whom it was supposed would be their chancellor of the exchequer, if ever they were again called upon to form a ministr}'. This right honorable individual lis- tened to Trenehard with the impatience which became a man of great experience addressed by a novice, and concluded the interview by saying that he thought " there Avas nothing in it ;" at the same time he would turn it in his muid, and con- sult some practical men. Accordingly the ex- and future min- ister consulted Mr. Vigo, who assured him that he Avas quite- right ; that "there Avas nothing in it,'' and that the lloating capital of the country was inexhaustible.
In the midst of all this physical prosperity, one fine day in August, Parliament having just been prorogued, an unknown dealer in potatoes wrote to the secretary of state, and informed liim that he had reason to think that a murrain had fallen over the Avhole of the potato crops in England, and that, if it ex- tended to Ireland, the most serious consequences must ensue.
This mysterious but uniA'ersal sickness of a single root changed the history of the Avorld.
"There is no gambling like politics," said Lord Rochamp-
.",82
EXDVMWX
|
1 1 |
|
\, |
|
11 |
|
1 i ' |
|
ill; |
|
Kii ' 1 |
|
N h ' |
|
1 |
|
■ |
|
I ' |
|
■ J |
ton, as lie gliinccd at the **Time?," at Princcdown ; ''four ca1)inets in one week ; tlie government must be more sick tlian the potatoes."
''Berengaria always says," said Lord ^[ontfort, " that you should sec Princcdown in summer. I, on tlie contrary, main- tain it is essentially ji winter residence, for, if there ever be a f^unbeam in England, Princcdown always cutclies it. Now to- da)', one might fancy one's self at Cannes."
liOrd Montfort was quite right, but even the most willful and selfish of men was generally obliged to pass his Christmas at his northern castle. Montforts had passed their Christmas in that grim aiul mighty dweHing-i)lace for centuries. Even he "was not strong enough to contend against such tradition. Besides, every one loves power, even if they do not know what to do with it. There are such things as memberships for coun- ties, which, if public feeling be not outraged, are hereditary, and adjacent boroughs, Avhich, Avith a little management and much expense, become reasonable and loytd. If the flag were rarely to wave on the proud keep of Montfort, all these satis- factory circumstances would be greatly disturbed and baffled ; and if the ancient ensign did not promise welcome and hospi- tality at Christmas, some of the principal uses even of Earls of Montfort might bo questioned.
There was another reason, besides the distance and the clime, why Lord Montfort disliked the glorious pile which every Englishman envied him for possessing. The mighty domain of Montfort was an estate in strict settlement. Its lord could do nothing but enjoy its convenience and its l)eauty, and expend its revenues. Nothing could bo sold or bought, not the slightest alteration — r.ccording to Lord Montfort — bo made, without applying to trustees for their sanction. Lord Montfort spoke of this pitiable state of affairs as if he were describing the serfdom of the middle ages. " If I were to pull this bell-rope, and it came down," ho would say, *' I should have to apply to the trustees before it could bo arranged."
Such a humiliating state of affairs had induced his lord- ship, on the very first occasion, to expend half a million of accumulations, which were at his own disposal, in the purchase
LIFE AT miyCKDOWX.
3S3
''four ■k tluiii
iifc you main-
M" bo il
on- (o-
of Princcclown, wliicli certainly was ii very difTorcnt residence from Montfort Castle, alike in its clime and character.
Princedown was situate in a southern county, hardly on a southern coast, for it was ten miles from the sea, thou<^h en- chanting views of the Channel were frequent and ex(|uisite. It was a palace built in old days upon the downs, l)ut .sheltered and screened from every hostile wind. The full warmth of the south fell upon the vast but fantastic pile of the renaissance style, said to have been built by that gifted but mysterious individual, John of Padua. The gardens were wonderful, ter- race upon terrace, and on each terrace a tall fountain. But the most jjcculiar feature was the park, which was undulating and extensive, but its timber entirely ilex : single trees of an age and size not common in that tree, and groui)s and clumps of ilex, but always ilex. Be3'ond the park, and extending far into the horizon, was Princcdown forest, the dominion of the red deer.
The Eoehamptons and Endymion were the only permanent visitors at Princcdown at this moment, but every day brought guests who staid eight-and-forty hours, and then llitted. Lady Montfort, like the manager of a theatre, took caic that there should be a succession of novelties to please or to sur- prise the wayward audience for whom she had io cater. On the whole, Lord Montfort was, for him, in an extremely good humor ; never very ill ; Princcdown was the only place where he never was very ill ; he was a little excited, too, by the state of politics, though he did not exactly know why ; " though, I suppose," he would say to Lord Eoehampton, "if you do come in again, there will be no more nonsense about O'Connell and all that sort of thing. If you are prudent on that head, and carry a moderate fixed duty, not too high, say ten shillings — that would satisfy everybody — I do not sec why the thing might not go on as long as you liked."
Mr. "Waldershare came down, exuberant with endless com- binations of jicrsons and parties. He foresaw in all these changes that most providential consummation, the end of the middle class.
Mr. Waldershare had become (piite a favorite with Lord
I ,1
t
: I
f
;i6A
EXD YMfOX.
^rontfort, who (Icliglilcd to talk with him al)oiit tlio Duko of ^[(Kk'iui, and iin])ihi' liis ori^^'inal views of En;,dis]i history. *' Only,'' Lord Monti'ort would observe, ''the Montforts have .so niiieh Ciiureh j)roi)erty, and I fancy the Duke of Modena would want us to disgorge."
St. Barbe liad been invited, and made his ai)i)caranee. There had been a degree of estrangement between him and his l)atron. St. Barbe was very jealous ; he was indeed jealous of everybody and everything, and of late there was a certain Doc- tor Comeh y, an Oxford ihm of the new school, who had been introduced to Lord ^lontfort, and was initiating him in all the mysteries of Xeology. This celebrated divine, who, in a sweet silky voice (juoled Socrates instead of St. Paul, aiul was op- l)0sed to all symbols and formulas as essentially un[)hilosoi)hi- cal, had become the hero of '• the little dinners" at Montfort House, where St. Barbe had been so long wont to shine, and who ill conseciuence himself had become every day more se- verely orthodox.
'• rerha])s Ave may meet to-day," said Endymlon one morn- ing to St. Barbe in Pall Mall as they were separating. '•Tlierc is a little dinner at Montfort House."
''Confound your little dinners !" exclaimed the indignant St. Barbe ; " I ho})e never lo go to another little dinner, aiul especially at ^NFontfort House. 1 do not want to be asked to din- ner to tumble and play tricks to amuse my host. I want to bo amused myself. One can not be silent at these little dinners, and the consequence is, you say all the good things which are in your next nundjcr, and when it comes out people say they have heard them before. Xo, sir, if Lord Montfort, or any other lord, Avishes mo to dine Avith. him, let him ask mo to a banquet of his own order, and AA'here I may hold my tongue like the rest of his aristocratic guests. "
Mr. Trenchard had come down and brought the news that the ministry had resigned, and that the Queen had sent for the leader of the opposition, aa'Iio was in Scotland.
"I suppose Avo shall liaA'e to go to toAvn," said Lady Roe- hampton to her brother, in a room, busy and full. *' It is so difficult to be alone here," she continued in a Avhisper ; "let
I
I
MVIiA AX J) EXfjyjIIOX.
i]S5
Huko of history. rts luivo Mock'iui
ciirancc.
and his 'ulous oL' liii Doc- ad been 11 all the
a sweet was op- lo.-:oi)hi- lonlfort iiic, and norc sc-
c inorn- *'Thero
dignant ler, and to di li- nt to bo linneiv, h are in cy have y other janciuet like the
ws that for the
iy Roc- It is so r, "let
us get into the gardens." And they escaped. And then, when they were out of hearing and of sight of any one she said, *'This is a most critical time in yonr life, Endymion ; it makes me very anxious. I look upon it as certain that you will bo in olllce, and in all probability under my lord. Jle has said nothing to mo about it, but I feel <piitc assured it will happen. It will be a great event. Poor i)ai)a began l^y being an umler- sccretary of state ! "she continued in a moody tone, half speak- ing to herself, ''and all seemed so fair then, but he had no root. "What I want, Endymion, is tliat you should have a root. There is too much chance and favor in your lot. They will fail you some day, some day too when I may not be by you. Even this great opening, Avhicli is at hand, Avould never have been at your command but for a mysterious gift on which vou never could have counted."
"It is very true, Myra, but what then ?"
"AVliy then, I think wc should guard against such contin- gencies. You know what is in my mind ; "we have spoken of it before, and not once only. I want you to marry, and you know whom."
"Marriage is a serious affair !" said Endymion with a dis- tressed look.
" The most serious. It is the princii)al event for good or for evil in all lives. Had I not married, and married as I did, wc should not have been here — and where, I dare not think."
"Yes ; but you made a happy marriage ; one of the hai)pi- cst that was ever known, I think."
" And I wish you, Endymion, to make the same. I did not marry for love, though love came, and I brought haiipines", to one who made me happy. But had it been otherwise, if thero had been no sympathy, or prospect of sympathy, I still should liave married, for it was the only chance of saving you."
" Dearest sister ! Everything I have, I owe to you."
"It is not much," said Myra, "but I wish to make it much. Power, in every form, and in excess, is at your dis- posal if you be wise. There is a woman, I think with every charm, who loves you ; her fortune may have no limit ; slv^ i^ a member of one of the most powerful families in England — :t 11
I
I
i
■i I
1;! :1a
386
ENDYMIOX.
noble fiimily I may say, for my lord told me last night that Mr. Neuchatel would bo instantly raised to the peerage, and you licsitate ! By all the misery of the past — which never can be forgotten — for heaven's sake, be wise ; do not palter with such a chance."
'' If all be as you say, Myra, and I have no reason but your word to believe it is so — if, for example, of which I never saAV any evidence, Mr. Neuchatel would approve, or even tolerate, this alliance — I have too deej) and sincere a regard for his daughter, founded on much kindness to both of us, to mock her with the offer of a heart which she has not gained."
*'You say you have a deep and sincere regard for Adri- ana," said his sister. "Why, what better basis for enduring \ happiness can there be ? You are not a man to marry for romantic sentiment, and piss your life in writing sonnets to your wife till you find her charms and your inspiration alike exhausted ; you are already wedded to the State, you have been nurtured in the thoughts of great affairs from your very cliildhood, and even in the darkest hour of our liorrible ad- versity. You arc a man born for power and high condition, Avhosc name in time ought to rank with those of the gi'cat statesmen of the continent, the true lords of Europe. Power, and power alone, should be your absorbing object, and all the accidents and incidents of life should only be considered with reference to that main result."
" Well, I am only five-and-twenty after all. There is time yet to consider this."
*' Great men should think of Opportunity, and not of Time. Time is the excuse of feeble and puzzled spirits. They make time the sleeping partner of their lives to accomplish what ought to be achieved by their own will. In this case, there certainly is no time like the present. The opportunity is un- rivaled. All your friends would, without an exception, be de- lighted if you now were wise."
**I hardly think my friends have given it a thought," said Endymion, a little flushed.
" There is nothing that would please Lady Montfort more."
He turned pale. " How do you know that ?" he inquired.
I i
DISAPPOIXTMEXr.
3sr
'* Slie told me so, and offered to help me in bringing about the result."
"Very kind of lier ! Well, dearest Myra, you and Lord Roehampton have much to think of at tliis anxious moment. Let this matter drop. We have discussed it before, and \vc have discussed it enough. It is more than pain for me to differ from you on any point, but I can not offer to Adriana a licart which belongs to another."
CHAPTER LXXXIII.
All the high expectations of December at Princedown were doomed to disappointment ; they were a further illustration of Lord Roehampton's saying, that there was no gambling like politics. Tlie leader of the opposition came up to town, but he found nothing but difficulties, and a few days before Christ- mas he had resigned the proffered trust. The protectionist ministry were to remain in office, and to repeal the corn laws. The individual who was most balked by this unexpected re- sult was perhaps Lord Roehampton. He was a man who really cared for nothing but office and affairs, and being advanced in life, he naturally regretted a lost opportunity. But he never showed his annoyance. Always playful, and even taking refuge in a bantering spirit, the world seemed to go light with him when everything was dark and everybody despondent.
The discontent or indignation which the contemplated revolution in policy was calculated to excite in the Conserva- tive party generally were to a certain degree neutralized for the iiJor.:ent by mysterious and confidential communications, circulated by Mr. Tadpole and the managers of the party, that the change was to be accompanied by "immense compensa- tions." As Parliament was to meet as soon as convenient after Christmas, and the statement of the regenerated ministry Avas then to be made immediately, every one held his hand, as they all felt the blow must be more efficient when the scheme of the government was known.
i '■ t
1
38S
Eyn YMiox.
Tlic Mont forts avci'o obliged to go to tliclr castle, a visit the ead necessity of which the formation of a new government, at one time, they had hojied might have prevented. The Iloc- hamptons passed their Christmas with Mr. Sidney Wilton at Guydene, where Endymion also and many of tlic opposition were guests. Waldersharc took refuge with his friends the Beaumaris, full of revenge and unceasing combinations. lie took down St. Barbc with him, whose services in the session might be useful. There had been a little misunderstanding between these two eminent personages during the late season. St. Barbe was not satisfied with his position in the new journal which Waldershare had established, lie affected to have been ill-treated and deceived, and this with a mysterious shake of the head -which seemed to intimate state secrets that might here- after be revealed. The fact is, St. Barbe's political articles were so absurd that it was impossible to print them ; but as liis name stood high as a clever writer on matters with which he was acquainted, they permitted him, particularly as they were bound to pay him a high salary, to contribute essays on the sociid habits and opinions of the day, which he treated in a happy and taking manner. St. Barbe himself had such a quick perception of pcculi .rities, so fine a power of observa- tion, and so keen a sense of the absurd, that when he revealed in confidence the causes of his discontent, it was almost im- possible to believe that he was entirely serious. It seems that lie expected this connection with the journal in question to liave been, to use his OAvn phrase, *'a closet affair," and that lie was habitually to have been introduced by the back-stairs of the palace to the presence of lloyalty to receive encouragement and inspiration. "I do not complain of the pay," he added, ** though I could get more by writing for Shuffle and Screw, but I expected i decoration. However, I shall probably stand for next Parli; nent on the principles of the Mountain, eo per- haps it is just as well."
Parliament soon met, and that session began which will long be memorable. The ** immense compensations" were no- where. Waldershare, who had only waited for this, resigned his ofltice as Under-Secretary of State. This was a bad example
A XEW GOVEUXMEXT.
3SD
and a bloAV, but nothing conipand to tlie resignation of liis cTcat ofVicc in the Ilousehokl bv tlie Earl of Beaumaris. This involved unhappily the withdrawal of Lady Beaumaris, under whose bright inspiring roof the Tory party had long assembled, sanguine and bold. Other considerable peers followed the })rec- cdent of Lord Beaumaris, and withdrew their support from the ministr3\ AVaklersharc moved the amendment to the first reading of the obnoxious bill ; but although defeated by a considerable majority, the majority was mainly formed of members of the opposition. Among these was Mr. I'enMrs, who it v.'as observed never opened liis lips during the \A\o\y session.
This was not the case with Mr. Bertie Tremainc and the school of Pythagoras. The opportunity long waited for had at^ length arrived. There was a great parliamentary conneetion deserted by their leaders. This distinguished rank tmd file re- quired odicers. The cabinet of Mr. Bertie Tremaine v.a.s ready, and at their service. ^Ir. I'ertie Tremaine seconded the amendment of Waldershare, and took the occasion of exi)()und- ing the new philosoi)hy, which seemed to com1)ine the princi- ples of Bcntham with the practice of Lord Liveri)ool. '•! offered to you this," he said rqn-oaclif ully to Endymion ; '-you mi^ht have been mv secretarv of state. Mr Tremaii/j Bertio will now take it. lie would rather have had an embas-y, l)ut he must make the sacrifice."
The debates during the session were much carried on bv the Pvthao'oreans, Avho never ceased chattering. Thev had men ready for every branch of tlic subject, and the debate was often closed by their chief in mystical sentences, which tlicy cheered like awe-struck zealots.
The great bill was carried, but the dark hour of retribution at len2;tli arrived. The miniritrv. thouo:h saniiuine to the last of success, and not without cause, were com])letely and igno- miniously defeated. The new government, long prepared, was at once formed. Lord Iioeham])ton auain became secretarv of state, and ho appointed Endymion to the post under him. " I shall not press you unfairly," said ]Mr. Bertio Tremaine to En- dymion, with encouraging condescension. *' I wish my men
i
! i
[ . '
390
EXDYMIOX.
for a season to comprehend what is a responsible opposition. I am sorry Ilortensius is your solicitor-general, for I had in- tended him always fur my chancellor."
|i
CHAPTER LXXXiy.
Very shortly after the prorogation of Parliament, an incident occurred Avhich materially affected the position of En- dymion. Lord Rochampton had a serious illness. Having a line constitution, he apparently completely rallied from the attack, and little was known of it by the public. The world, also, jit that moment, was as usual much dispersed and dis- tracted ; dispersed in many climes, and distracted by the fatigue and hardships they annually endure, and which they call relaxation. Even the colleagues of the great statesman were scattered, and before they had realized that he had been seriously ill, they read of him in the fulfillment of official du- ties. But there was no mistake as to his state under his own roof. Lord Roehampton had, throughout the later period of his life, been in the habit of working at night. It was only at night that he could command that abstraction necessary for the consideration of great affairs. He was also a real Avorker, He wrote his oAvn dispatches, whenever they referred to mat- ters of moment. He left to the permanent staff of his office little but the fulfillment of duties which, though heavy and multifarious, were duties of routine. The composition of these dispatches was a source to Lord Roehampton of much gratifi- cation and excitement. They were of European fame, and their terse argument, their clear determination, and often their happy irony, were acknowledged in all the cabinets, and duly ai)prelicnded.
The physicians impressed upon Lady Roehampton that this night-work must absolutely cease. A neglect of their advice must lead to serious consequences ; following it, there was no reason why her husband should not live for years, and continue to serve the State. Lord Roehampton must leave the House
TREN CHARD'S SPEECH.
391
of Commons ; lie must altogether change the order of liis life ; he must seek more amusement in society, and yet keep early hours ; and then he would find himself fresh an'^' vigorous in the morning, and his work would rather benefit t an distress him. It was all an affair of habit.
Lady Roehampton threw all her energies into this matter. She entertained for her lord a reverential affection, and his life to her seemed a precious deposit, of which she was the trustee. She succeeded where the physicians would probably have failed. Toward the end of the year Lord Roehampton was called up to the House of Lords for oro of his baronies, and Endymion was informed that when Parliament met, he would have to rc])rt- sent the Foreign Office in the House of Commons.
"Waldershare heartily congratulated him. "You have got what I most wished to have in the world ; but I will not envy you, for envy is a vile passion. You have the good fortune to serve a genial chief. I had to deal with a Harley — cold, sus- picious, ambiguous, jiretending to be i)rofound, and always in a state of perplexity. " I It was not a very agreeable session. The potato famine did
something more than repeal the corn laws. It proved that there Avas no floating capital left in the country ; and when the Barings and Rothschilds combined, almost as much from pub- lic spirit as from private speculation, to raise a loan of a few millions for the minister, they absolutely found the public purse was exhausted, and had to supply the greater portion of the amount from their own resources. In one of the many financial debates that consequently occurred, Trcnchard estab- lished himself by a clear and comprehensive view of the posi- tion of affairs, and by modestly reminding the house, that a year ago he had predicted the present condition of things, and indicated its inevitable cause.
This was the great speech on a great night, and Mr. Bertie Tremaine walked home with Trenchard. It was observed that Mr. Bertie Tremaine always walked home with the member who had made the speech of the evening.
"Your friends did not behave well to you," he said, in a hollow voice to Trenchard. " They ought to have made you
! ,'■
I
EXDYMIOy.
Secretary of the Treasury. Think of this. It is an important post, and mtiy lead to anything ; and, so far as I am concerned, it "wouhl give me real pleasure to see it."
But besides the disqu'etudo of domestic affairs, famine and failures competing in horrible catastrophe and the 13ank Act suspended, as the year advanced matters on the continent be- came not less dark and troubled. Italy "vvas mysteriously agi- tated ; the pope announced himself a reformer ; there were disturbances in Milan, Ancona, and Ferrara ; the Austrians threatened the occupation of several states, and Sardinia of- fered to defend Ilis Holiness from the Austrians. In addition to all this, there "were reform banquets in France, a civil war in Switzerland, and the King of Prussia thought it prudent to present his subjects with a constitution.
The Count of Ferroll about this time made a visit to Eng- land. He was always a welcome guest there, and had received the greatest distinction Avhicli England could bcstoAV upon a foreigner ; he had been elected an honorary member of White's, "You may have troubles here," he said to Lady Montfort, *' but they will pass ; you will have mealy potatoes again and plenty of bank-notes, but avc shall not get off so cheaply. Ev- erything is quite rotten throughout the Continent. T'hi^ year is traufpiillity to Avhat the next Avill be. There is not a throne in Europe worth a year's purchase. jMy Avorthy master wants me to return home and be minister : I am to fashion for him a new constitution. I will never have anything to do with new constitutions ; their inventors are always the first victims. In- stead of making a constitution, he should make a country, and convert his heterogeneous domains into a patriotic dominion."
*'But how is that to be done ?"
** There is only one way ; by blood and iron."
" ]\ry dear count, you shock me ! "
"I shall have to shock you a great deal niore before tlie in- evitable is brought about."
'* Well, I am glad that there is something," said Lady Montfort, "■' which is inevitable. I hope it will come soon. I am sure this country is ruined. What with cheap bread at 1 and these railroads, wc seem quite finished. I
pri
AFFAIRS nECOMIXG S FRIO US.
3f>;j
J>
tlionglit one operation w;i?? to conntcract tlio other ; Itiit they api)car botli to turn out equally fatal.*'
Endyniioii had now one of those rare opportunities whieh, if men he equal to them, greatly affect their future career. As the session advanced, debates on foreign affairs became frequent and deeply interesting. So far as the ministry was concerned, the burden of these fell on the Under-Secretary of State. He was never Avanting. The House f. It that he had not only the adequate knowledge, but that it vras knowdcdge iierfectly di- gested ; that his remarks and conduct were those of ti nian who had given constant thought to his duties, and was ma^er of his subject. His oratorical gifts al-o began to be recognized. The jiower and melody of his voice had been before remarked, and that is a gift ■which much contributes to success in a pop- ular assembly. He was ready witV.out being too fluent. There were light and shade in his delivery. He repressed his p(.twer of sarcasm ;, but if unjustly and inaccurately attacked, he could be keen. Over his temper he had a complete control ; if, in- deed, his entire insensibility to violent language on the part of an o})ponent was not organic. All acknowledged his courtesy, and both sides sympathi;<cd witli a young man who proved himself equal to no ordinary dilVieulties. In a word, Endym- ion Avas popular, and that pojailarity was not diminished by the fact of his being the brother of Lady Iioehampton, Avho exercised great influence in society, and avIio was much be- loved.
As the year advanced external affairs became daily more serious, and the country congratulated itself that its interests were intrusted to a minister of the experience and capacity of Lord Roehamjjton. That statesman seemed never better than when the gale ran high. Affairs in France began to assunio the complexion that the Count of Ferroll had prophetically an- nounced. If a crash occurred in that quarter. Lord Uoehamp- ton felt that all Europe might be in a blaze. Affairs were nev- er more serious than at the turn of the year. Lord Pioehampfon told his wife tluit their holidays must be spent in St. James' Square, for he could not leave London ; but he wished her to go to Gaydene, wlierc they had been invited by Mr, Sidney
i.iv; :1
4:|j
1
304
EXDYMIOK
•
I
i
Wilton to pass their Christmas as usual. Nothing, however, would induce her to (juit his side. He seemed quite well, but the pressure of affairs was extreme ; and sometimes, against all her remonstrances, he was again working at night. Such re- monstrances on other .^uhjects would probably have been suc- cessful, for her influence over him was extreme. But to a minister responsible for the interests of a great country they are vain, futile, impossible. One might as well remonstrate with an officer on the field of battle on the danger he was in- curring. She said to him one night in his library, where she paid him a little visit before she retired, " jNIy heart, I know it is no use my saying anything, and yet — remember your promise. This night-work makes mo very unhappy."
**I remember my promise, and I will try not to work at night again in a hurry, 1)ut I must finish tliis dispatch. If I did not, I could not slcei), and you know sleep is what I re- quire."
'• Good night, then."
He looked up Avith his winning smile, aid held out his lips. ''Kiss me," he said, "I never felt better."
Lady Roehampton after a time slumbered ; how long she knew not, but when she woke her lord was not at her side. She struck a light and looked at her watch. It was past three o'clock ; she jumped out of bed, and, merely in her slippers and her 7'obe de chamhrc, descended to the library. It was a large, long room, and Lord Roehampton worked at the ex- treme end of it. The candles were nearly burned out. As she approached him, she perceived that he was leaning back in his chair. When she reached him, she observed he was awake, but he did not seem to recognize her. A dreadful feeling came over her. She took his hand. It was quite cold. Her intel- lect for an instant seemed to desert her. She lookt'd round her with an air void almost of intelligence, and then rushing to the bell she continued ringing it till some of the household appeared. A medical man was near at hand, and in a few minutes arrived, but it was a bootless visit. All was over, and all had been over, he said, "for some time."
RA WCnESTER.
395
CHAPTER LXXXV.
your
" Well, have you made up your govornmcnt ? " asked Lady Montfort of the prime minister as lie entered her boudoir. He shook his liead.
" Have you seen her ? " lie inquired.
•'•'No, not yet; I suppose she will see me as soon as any one.*'
*'I am told she is utterly ovcrAvhelmcd."
'* She was devoted to him ; it was the happiest union I ever knew ; but Lady Roehampton is not the woman to be utterly overwhelmed. She has too imperial a spirit for that."
"It is a great misfortune," said the prime minister. *• We have not been lucky since we took the reins."
''Well, there is no use in deploring. There is nobody else to take the reins, so you may defy misfortunes. The question now is, what are you going to do ?"
"Well, there seems to me only one thing to do. We must put Rawchester there."
"Rawchester !" exclaimed Lady Montfort, "what 'Niminy- Piminy ' ?"
"Well, he is conciliatory," said the premier, "and if you are not very clever, you should be conciliatory."
"He never knows his own mind for a Avcek together."
"We Avill take care ox his mind," said the prime minister, "but he has traveled a good deal, and knows the public men."
"Yes," said Lady Montfort, "and the public men, I fear, know him."
"Then he can make a good House of Lords' speech, and we have a first-rate man in the Commons ; so it will do."
"I do not think your first-rate man in the House of Com- mons w^ill remain," said Lady Montfort dryly.
" You do not mean that ? " said the prime minister, evi- dently alarmed.
" His health is delicate," said Lady Montfort ; " had it not been for his devotion to Lord Roehampton, I know he thought of traveling for a couple of years."
i
i{
OjlJ
KXDYMIOy.
'*FciTars' lioalth (li'licale ?'' .'■aid tlic premier ; '• I tlion;:;1it lie was ilio picture of licalth and youtliful vigor. Health is one of the elements to be considered in calculating the career of a public man, and I have tdways predicted an eminent career for Ferrari, because, in addition to bis remarkable talents, bo had apparently such a fine constitution."
" Xo health could stand working under Lord "Rawchcster."
"Well, but what am I to do ? I can not make Mr. Ferrars secretary of state.''
''Why not?"
The in'ime minister looked considerably perplexed. Sucli a promotion could not possibly have occurred to him. Though a man of many gifts, and a statesman, be had been educated in high Whig routine, and the proposition of Lady Montfort was like recommending him to make a curate a bishop.
"Well," he said, '"Ferrars is a very clever fellow. lie is our rising young man, and there is no doubt that, if his health is not so delicate as you fear, bo will mount high ; but though our rising young man, he is a young man, much too young to be a secretary of slc.te. lie wants age, larger acquaintance with ailairs, greater position, and more root in the country."
" What was ^Ir. Canning's ago, who held Mr. Ferrars' oflice, when be was made secretary of state ? and wliat root in the country bad be ?"
When the prime minister got back to Downing Street bo sent immediately for bis bead Whip. " Look after Ferrars," he said ; " they are trying to induce him to resign office. If he does our embarrassments Avill be extreme. Lord Rawchcster ■will be secretary of state ; send a paragraph at once to the pai)er3 announcing it. But look after Ferrars, and inyinedi- ately, and report to me."
Lord Roeliampton bad a large entailed estate, thougli bis affairs were always in a state of confusion. That seems almost the inevitable result of being absorbed in the great business of governing mankind. If there be exceptions among statesmen of the highest class, they will generally be found among those who bavo been chiefly in opposition, and so liavo bad leisure and freedom of mind sufficient to manaofc their estates. Lord
Tin-: HILL street maxsiox.
;30T
Tiocluinipton luul, liowcvcr, extensive jjowcrs of charging liis estate in lieu of dower, and lie had emphjyed tlicm to their nt- niost extent ; so his wi(h)\v was well })r()vided for. The execu- tor.-: were Mr. Sidney Wilton and Kndyniion.
After a short period, Lady IJix'luunpton saw Adriana, and not very long after, Lady ^lontfort. They both of them, from that time, were lier frc'[uent, if nut constant companions, but she saw no one else. Onee only, shice the terrible event, was she seen by the world, and that was when a tall figure, shrouded in tlie darkest attire, attended as chief mourner at the burial of her lord in Westminster Abl)cy. Slic remained })ermanently in London, not only because she had no country house, but be- cause she wished to be with her brother. As time advanced she frcfp". tly saw Mr. Sidney Wilton, who, being chief execu- tor of the will, and charged Avith all her affairs, had necessarily much on which to consult her. One of the greatest difhculties was to provide her with a suitable residence, for, of course, she was not to remain in the family mansion in St. James' Square. Tluit difficulty was ultimately overcome in a manner highly interesting to her feelings. Her father's mansion in 1 1 ill Street, where she had passed her prosperous and gorgeous childhood, was in the market, and she was most desirous to occupy it. '*It will seem like a great step toward the restoration,*' she said to Endymion. '" My plans are, that you should give up the Albany, and that Ave should l\vc together. I should like to live together in Hill Street ; I should like to see our nursery once more. The past then will bo a dream, or at least all the past that is disagreeable. My fortune is yours ; as Ave are tAvins, it is likely that I may IIa'c as long as you do. But I Avish you to be the master of the house, and in time receiA'e your friends in a manner becoming your position. I ^o not think that I shall CA'er much care to go out again, but I may help you at home, and then you can invite Avomen ; a mere bachelor's liouse is always dull."
There Avas one difficulty still in this arrangement. The mansion in Hill Street was not to be let, it Avas for sale, and the price naturally for such a mansion in such a situation Avas considerable ; quite beyond the means of Lady Roehampton,
398
EKJjYMIOy.
who had a very ami)le income, but no capital. This difiiculty, however, vanished in a moment. Mr. Sidney Wilton purchased the house ; he wanted an investment, and this was an excellent one ; so Lady Roehampton became his tenant.
The change was great in the life of Myra, and she felt it. She loved her lord, and had cut off her bcauliiul hair, which reached almost to her feet, and had tied it round his neck in his coflin. But Myra, notwithstanding she was a woman, and a woman of transcendent beauty, had never had a romance of the heart. Until she married, her pride and her love for her brother, which was part of her i)ride, had absorbed her being. When she married, and particularly as time advanced, she felt all the misery of her existence had been removed, and nothing could exceed the tenderness and affectionate gratitude, and truly unceasing devotion, which she extended to the gifted be- ing to Avhom she owed this deliverance. But it was not in the nature of things that she could experience those feelings which still echo in the heights of Meilleraie, and compared with which all the glittering accidents of fortune sink into insig- nificance.
The year rolled on, an agitated year of general revolution. Endymion himself was rarely in society, for all the time which the House of Commons spared to him he wished chiefly to dedicate to his sister. His brougham was always ready to take him up to Hill Street for one of those somewhat hurried, but amusing little dinners, which break the monotony of parlia- mentary life. And sometimes he brought a companion, gen- erally Mr. Wilton, and sometimes they met Lady Montfort or Adriana, now ennobled as the daughter of Lord ILiinault. There was much to talk about, even if they did not talk about themselves and their friends, fur every day brought great events, fresh insurrections, new constitutions, changes of dy- nasties, assassinations of ministers, states of siege, evanescent empires, and premature republics.
On one occasion, having previously prepared his sister, who seemed not uninterested by the suggestion, Endymion brought Thornberry to dine in Hill Street. There was no one else present except Adriana. Job was a great admirer of Lady
JOIi nUIiCUASES HUIiSTLHY.
391>
being.
insig-
lioi'lianiptun, but wa.-< ji little iiwc-stnick by lier. He roinem- bcrcd lier in licr cliildbood, a beautiful being wlio never smiled. She received him very graciously, and after dinner, inviting him to sit by her on the sofa, referred with delicacy to old times.
*' Your ladyshii)," said Thornberry, *' would not know that I live myself now at llurstley."
''Indeed I" said Myra, unaffectedly surprised.
'•Well, it hapi)cned in this way; my father now is iu years, and can no longer visit us as lie occasionally did in Lan- cashire ; so wishing to see us all, at least once more, we agreeil to pay him a visit. I do not know how it exactly came about, but my wife took a violent fancy to the place. They all re- ceived us very kindly. The good rector and his dear, kind wife made it very pleasant, and the archbishop was there — whom wo used to call Mr. Nigel — only think ! That is a Avon- derful affair. lie is not at all high and mighty, but talked with us, and walked with us, just the same as in old days. He took a great fancy to my boy, John nam})dcn, and, after all, my boy is to go to Oxford, and not to Owens College, as I had first intended.*'
'• That is a great change."
"Well, I wanted him to go to Owens College, I confess, but I did not care so much about Mill Hill. That was his mother's fancy ; she was very strong about that. It is a Non- conformist school, but I am not a Nonconformist. I do not much admire dogmas, but I am a Churcliman as my fathers were. However, John Hampden is not to go to Mill Hill. He has gone to a sort of college near Oxford, which the archbishop recommended to us ; the principal, and all the tutors arc cler- gymen— of course of our Church. My wife is (piite delighted with it all."
"Well, that is a good thing."
"And so," continued Thornberry, "she got it into her head she should like to live at llurstley, and I took the place. I am afraid I have been foolish enough to lay out a great deal of money there — for a place not my own. Your ladyship would not know the old hall. I have, what they call.
It
Hi. J
U
ii
t '■
|
HI |
< |
|
hi |
|
|
r |
|
|
4= |
|
|
1 |
400
EXDYMION.
restored i(, aiul upon my Avard, except the new luill of tlie Cloth- "Workers' Company, wlicrc I dined the other day, I do not know anything of tlie kind tliat is prettier."'
'* The dear ohl liall I" mnrmnred Lady Iiociuimpton.
In time, tliouci'h no one mentioned it, evervlwdv thought that if an alli;vnce nltimately took place between Lady Ivoc- liampton and ^Iv. Sidney Wilton, it would bo the most natnral thing in the world, and CTcrybody would approve it. True, he was her father's friend, and much her senior, but then ho was still good-looking, very clever, very mnch considered and lord of a largo estate, and at any rate he was a younger man than her late hnsband.
When these thoughts became more rife in society, and be- gai; to take the form of speech, the year was getting old, and this reminds us of a little incident which took place many months previously, at the beginning of the year, and which we ought to record.
Shortly after the death of Lord Iioehampton, Prince Flo- restan called one morning in St. James' Square. He said he would not ask Lady Roehampton to see him, but he was obliged suddenly to leave England, and he did not like to depart with- out personally inrpiiring after her. He left a letter, and a little packet. And the letter ran thus :
"I am obliged, madam, to leave England suddenly, and it is probable that wc shall never meet again. I should be happy if I had your prayers ! This little Jewel enclosed belonged to my mother, the Queen Agrippina. She told me that 1 was never to part with it except to somebody I loved as much as herself. There is only one person in the world to whom I owe affection. It is to her who from the first was always kind to me, and who, through dreary years of danger and anxiety, has been the charm and consolation of the life of
*'Eloiiestax."
PRIXCE FLORESTAN'S IXVASIOX.
401
CILVPTEIl LXXXVr.
Ox tlic evening' of tlio tiny on -which Prince Florcsfan per- sonally left the letter with Lady liochampton, he ([uitted Lon- don with the Duke of St. Angclo and his aide;(-de-camp, and, embarking in his steam yacht, which was lying at Southamp- ton, quitted England. I'hey pursued a prosperous course for about a week, when they passed through the Straits of (li])ral- tar, and, not long afterward, cast anchor in a small and solitary bay. There the prince and his companions, and half a dozen servants, well armed and in military attire, left the yacht, and proceeded on foot into the country for a short distance, when they arrived at a large farm-house. Here, it was evident, they WTrc expected. Men came forward with many horses, and mounted, and accompanied the party which had arrived. Tlioy advanced about ten miles, and halted as they were approach- ing a small but fortified town.
The prince sent the Duke of St. Angclo forward to an- nounce his arrival to the governor, and to re([uire him to sur- render. The governor, however, refused, and ordered the gar- rison to fire on the invaders. This they declined to do ; the governor, with many ejaculations, and stani})ing with rage, broke his sword, and the prince entered the toAvn. lie was warmly received, and the troops, amounting to about twelve hundred men, placed, themselves at his disposal. The prince remained at this town only a couple of hours, and at the head of his forces advanced into the country. At a range of hills ho halted, sent out reconnoitering parties, and pitched his camp. In the morning, the ^Marquis of Yallombrosa, with a largo party of gentlemen well mounted, arrived, and were warmly greeted. The prince learned from them that the news of his invasion had reached the governor of the ])rovince, Avho was at one 01 the most considerable cities of tl;e kingdom, with a population exceeding two hundred thousand, and wilh a mili- tary division for its garrison. ''Tliey will not wait for our arrival," said Yallombrosa, "but, trusting to their nundjers, will come out and attack us."
'1^ - 0, ■
■:
4
\i :
i|i
;'-l
V'A
m
402
ENDYMIOX.
The news of the scouts being that the mountain passes were quite unoccupied by tlie enemy, the prince determined instant- ly to continue liis advance, and take up a strong position on the otlier side of the range, and await his fate. The passage was well effected, and on tlie fourth day of tlic invasion the advanced guard of the enemy were in sight. The prince com- manded that no one sliould attend liim, but alone and tying a white handkerchief round his sword, he galloped up to the hostile lines, and said in a clear, loud voice, " My men, this is the SAVord of my father ! "
**Florestan for ever," Avas tlie only and universal reply. The cheers of the advanced guard reached and were reechoed by the main body. The commander-in-chief, bareheaded, came up to give in his allegiance and receive his majesty's orders. They were for immediate progress, and at the head of the army wliich had been sent out to destroy liim, Florestan in due course entered the enthusiastic city which recognized him as its sovereign. The city Avas illuminated, and he Avent to the opera in the evening. The singing Avas not confined to the theatre. During the Avholc night the city itself Avas one song of joy and triumph, and that night no one slept.
After this there Avas no trouble and no delay. It Avas a triumphal march. Every toAVii opened its gates, and devoted municipalities proffered golden keys. EA'cry village sent forth its troop of beautiful maidens, scattering roses, and singing the national anthem Avliich had been composed by Queen Agrippina. On the tenth day of the iuA'asion King Flores- tan, utterly unopposed, entered the magnificent capital of his realm, and slept in the purple bed Avhich had Avitnessed his jirincely birth.
Among all the strange revolutior.i of this year, this adven- ture of Florestan v/as not the least interesting to Lhe English people. Although society had not smiled on him, he had ahvays been rather a faA'orite Avith the bulk of the population. Ilis fine countenance, his capital horsemanship, his graceful boAv that ahvays Avon a heart, his youth, and love of sport, his English education, and the belief that he was sincere in his regard for the country where he had been so long a guest, Avere
LOOKIXO FOR A QUEEN:
403
elements of popularity that, particularly now he was success- ful, were unmistakable. And certainly Lady lloeliampton, in her solitude, did not disregard his career or conduct. They Avere naturally often in her thoughts, for there was scarcely a day in which his name did not figure in the newspapers, and always in connection with matters of general interest and con- cern. The government he established was liberal, but it was discreet, and though conciliatory, firm. ''If he declares for the English alliance," said Waldershare, •'ho is safe ; " and lie did declare for the English alliance, and the English peo[ile were very pleased by his declaration, which in their apprehen- sion meant national progress, the amelioration of society, and increased exports.
The main jjoint, however, which interested his subjects was his marriage. That was both a difficult and a delicate matter to decide. The great continental dynasties looked with some jealousy and suspicion on him, and the small reigning houses, who were all allied with the great continental dynasties, thought it prudent to copy their example. All these reigning families, whether large or small, were themselves in a per})lcxcd and alarmed position at this period, very disturbed about their present, and very doubtful about their future. At last it Avas understood that a Princess of Saxe-Babel, though allied with royal and imperial houses, might share the diadem of a success- ful adventurer, and then in time, and when it had been suffi- ciently reiterated, paragraphs appeared unequivocally contra- dicting the statement, followed with agreeable assurances that it was unlikely that a Princess of Saxe-Babel, allied Avitli royal and imperial houses, should unite herself to a parvenu monarch, however powerful. Then in turn these articles Avere stigma- tized as libels, and entirely unauthorized, and no less a person- age than a princess of the house of Saxe-Genesis Avas talked of as the future queen ; but on referring to the ''Almanach de Gotha," it Avas discoA'ered, that family had been extinct since the first French RcA'olution. So it seemed at last that nothing AA'as certain, except that his subjects Avere very anxious that King Florestan should jiresent them Avith a queen.
i
404 j:xdymiox.
1^ Iff
Is'?'
m
II
I "
CHAPTER LXXXVir.
As time Hc'V*' on, tlic friends of Lady Koeliampton tliouglit, and spoke, "with anxiety about lier rcentrance into society. .Mr. Sidney AVilton had lent Gaydeno to her for the autumn, wlien ho always visited Scotland, and the winter had passed away uninterruptedly, at a charniing and almost unknown watering- place, where she seemed the only visitant, and where she wan- dered about in silence on the sands. The time was fast ap- proaching when the inevitable year of seclusion would expire, and Lady lioehampton gave no indication of any change in her life and habits. At length, after many appeals, and expostu- lations, and entreaties, and little scenes, the second year of the Avidowhood having advanced some months, it was decided that Lady lioehampton should reenter society, and the occasion on which this vras to take place Avas no mean one.
Lady Montfort Avas to give a ball early in June, and royalty itself Avas to be her guests. The entertainments at Montfort House AA'erc ahvays magnificent, but this Avas to exceed accus- tomed splendor. All the Avorld Avas to be there, and all the Avorld, Avho A\'cre rot invited, Avere in as much despair as if they had lost their fortune or their character.
Lady Roehampton had a passion for light, provided the light AA'as not supplied by gas or oil. Her saloons, CA'en Avhen alone, Avere ahA'ays brilliantly illuminated. She held that the moral effect of such a circumstance on her temperament Avas beneficial, and not slight. It is a rare, but by no means a sin- gular, belief. When she descended into her draAving-rooms on the critical night, its resplendence AA'as some preparation for the scene Avhich awaited her. She stood for a moment before the tall mirror Avhich reflected her Avhole person. What Avero her thoughts ? What Avas the impression that the fair vision conveyed ?
Her countenance A\'as graA'e, but it avms not sad. Myra had noAV completed, or Avas on the point of completing, her thirti- eth year. She Avas a Avoman of transcendent beauty ; perhaps she might justly be described as the mocfc beautiful AVoman
i ill
Tin: j>rKE of st. axgelo.
40.1
10 Hi: 111', V. 'My.
d tnviiy
atcriiig-
ic waii-
iist a})-
cxpiro,
0 ill licr
'xpostu-
ir of the
led that
loiou ou
royalty lonti'ort d accus-
all the lir as if
ded tlio ni Avlieii Jiat the lent -was IS a siu- ooms on Lion for t before lat were V vi.-ion
yra luid L- thirti- pcrhaps woman
then alive. Time liad even improved her commanding micii, the graceful sweep of lier figure and tlie voluptuous undulation of her shoulders ; but time also had spared those charms which arc more incidental to early yoi th, the splendor of her com- plexion, the Avhitcncss of her teeth, and the luster of her violet eyes. She had cut olf in her grief the profusion of her dark chestnut locks, that once reached to her feet, and she wore her hair as, what Avas then and perhajis is now called, a cro}), but it Avas luxuriant in natural quantity and rich in color, and most cifcctively set off her arched brow, and the oval of her fresh and beauteous cheek. The crop was crowned to-night by a coronet of brilliants.
"Your carriage is ready, my lady," said a servant; *'but there is a gentleman below who has brought a letter for your ladyship, and which, he says, he must personally deliver to you, madam. I told him your ladyship was going out and could not see him, but he put his card in this envelope, and requested that I would hand it to you, madam. lie says ho will only deliver the letter to your ladyshiii, and not detain you a moment."
Lady Roehampton opened the envelope, and read the card, '•'TriE Duke of St. Axgelo."
" The Duke of St. Angelo," she murmured to herself, and looked for a moment abstracted. Then turning to the servant, said, " lie must be shown up."
'• Madam," said the duke as he entered, and bowed with much ceremony, '' I am ashamed of appearing to bo an intru- der, but my commands were to deliver this ietter to your lady- ship immediately on my arrival, Avhatever the hour. I have only this instant arrived. We had a bad passage. I know your ladyship's carriage is at the door. I will redeem my l)ledgc and not trespass on your time for one instant. If your ladyship requires me, I am ever at your command."
"At Carlton Gardens?"
" No ; at our embassy."
" His majesty, I hope, is well ? "
*•' In every sense, my lady," and bowing to the ground the duke withdrew.
1 \
If
' IJ
ii: i '*
^i
il
40G
ENDYMIOK
She broke the seal of the letter wliile still standing, and held it to a sconce that was on the mantel-piece, and then she read :
i
'* You were the only person I called upon when I suddenly left England. I had no hope of seeing you, but it was the homage of gi'atitude and adoration. Great events have han- pened since we last met. I have realized my dreams, dreams Avhicli I sometimes fancied you, and you alone, did not depre- ciate or discredit, and, in the sweetness of your charity, would not have been sorry were they accomplished.
'' I have established what I believe to be a strong and just government in a great kingdom. I have not been uninfluenced by the lessons of wisdom I gained in your illustrious land. I have done some things whicli it was a solace for me to believe you would not altogether disapprove.
" My subjects arc anxious tliat the dynasty I have reestab- lished should not be evanescent. Is it too bold to hope that I may find a companion in you to charm and to counsel me ? I can offer you nothing equal to your transcendent merit, but I can offer you the heart and the throne of
**Florestax."
I m
I*"
ii[' ;1l'
Still holding the letter in one hand, she looked around as if some one might be present. Her cheek was scarlet, and there was for a moment an expression of wi ■ ess in her glance. Then she paced the saloon with an agitated step, and then she road the letter again and af;ain, and still she paced the saloon. The whole history of her liie revoived before her ; every scene, every character, every thought, and sentiment, and passion. The brightness of her nursery days, and Hurstley with all its miseries, and Hainault with its gardens, and the critical hour, Avhicli had opened to her a future of such unexpected luster and happiness.
The clock had struck more than once during this long and terrible soliloquy, wherein she had to search and penetrate her inmost heart, and now it struck two. She started, and hur- riedly rang the bell.
aiDXEY WILTON- AGITATED.
407
ng. and nc! tlien
'* I shall not want the carriage to-night," she said, and ■when again alone, she sat down and, burying her face in her alabaster arms, for a long time remained motionless.
11
Liddenly
was the
ve hap-
dreams
depre-
would
nd just luenced and. I I believe
reestab- e that I me? I t, but I
rAx.
)>
ound as et, and glance, hen she saloon. 1^ scene, Dassion. 1 all its \X hour, I luster
n^ and ate her d hur-
CHAPTER LXXXVIII.
Had he been a youth about to make a lUhiit in the great world, Sidney Wilton could not have hcen more agitated than he felt at the prospect of the fete at Montfort House. Lady Roehampton, after nearly two years of retirement, was about to reenter society. During this interval she had not been estranged from him. On the contrary, he had been her fre- quent and customary companion. Except Adriana, and Lady Montfort, and her brother, it might almost be said, her only one. Why then was he agitated ? He had been living in a dream for two years, cherishing wild thoughts of exquisite happiness. He would have been content, had the dream never been disturbed ; but this return to hard and practical life of her whose unconscious witchery had thrown a spell over his existence, roused him to the reality of his position, and it was one of terrible emotion.
During the life of her husband, Sidney Wilton had been the silent adorer of Myra. With every accomplishment and every advantage that are supposed to make life delightful — a fine countenance, a noble mien, a manner natural and at- tractive, an ancient lineage, and a vast estate — he was the favorite of society, who did more than justice to his talents, which, though not brilliant, were considerable, and who could not too much appreciate the high tone of his mind ; his gen- erosity, and courage, and true patrician spirit which inspired all his conduct, and guided him ever to do that which was liberal, and gracious, and just.
There was only one fault which society found in Sidney Wilton ; he would not marry. This was provoking, because he was the man of all others who ought to marry, and make a heroine happy. Society did not give it up till he was forty,
r
' ■ i i-
408
EXDYMIOX.
^
I '
iibout tlic time lie became acquainted with Lad}' Tvoeliampton ; and that incident threw no hght on liis jiurposes or motives, for he was as discreet as lie was devoted, and Mvra herself tvas unconscious of his being anything to her save the dearest friend of her father, and the most cherished companion of her husband.
AVhen one feels dcei)ly, one is ai)t to act suddenly, perhaps rasldy. There are moments in life wlicn suspense can be borne no longer. And Sidney Wilton, who had been a silent votary for more than ten years, now felt that the slightest delay in his fate would be intolerable. It was the ball at Montfort House that should be the scene of this decision of destiny.
She was about to reenter society, radiant as the morn, amid tioAvers and music, and all the accidents of social splendor. Ilis sympathetic heart had been some solace to her in her sor- row and her solitude. Now, in the joyous blaze of life, he was resolved to ask her whether it were impossible that they should never again separate, and in the crowd, as Avell as when alone, feel their mutual devotion.
Mr. Wilton was among those who went early to ^lontfort House, Avliich was not his wont ; but he was restless and dis- quieted. She could hardly have arrived ; but there would be some there who would speak of her. That was a great thing. Sidney Wilton had arrived at that state when conversation can only interest on one subject. When a man is really in love, he is disposed to believe that, like himself, everybody is thinking of the person who engrosses his brain and heart.
The magnificent saloons, which in half an hour would be almost impassable, were only sprinkled with guests, who, how- ever, were constantly arriving. Mr. Wilton looked about him in vain for the person whom he was quite sure could not then be present. He lingered by the side of Lady Montfort, who bowed to those who came, but who could spare few consecutive words, even to Mr. Wilton, for her watchful eye expected every moment to be summoned to descend her marble staircase and receive her royal guests.
The royal guests arrived ; there was a grand stir, and many gracious bows, and some cordial, but dignified, shake-hands. The rooms were crowded ; yet space in the ball-room was well
DISPIIiiriXG THOUGHTS.
40D
niptoii ; iiotivcs, self tviis t friend Lisband. perhaps iG borne b votary delay in [ontfort
ny.
11, amid ^lender, her sor- , lie was J should n alone,
lontfort and dis- i'ould be it thing, tion can love, lie thinking
vould bo [lo, how- )out him not then ort, who isecutive ;ed every case and
nd many :e-liands. was well
};re.scrved, so that the royal vision might range witli facility, from its golden chairs to the beauteous beings, and still more beautiful costumes, displaying with fervent loyalty their fasci- nating charms.
There was a new band to-night, that had conic from .<omo distant but celebrated capital ; musicians known by fame to everybody, but whom nobody had ever heard. They i)laycd wonderfully on instruments of new invention, and divinely upon old ones. It was impossible that anything could be more gay and inspiriting than their silver bugles, and their carillons of tinkling bells.
They found an echo in the heart of Sidney Wilton, who, seated near the entrance of the ball-room, watched everv arrival with anxious expectation. But the anxiety vanished for a moment under the influence of the fantastic and frolic strain. It seemed a harbinger of happiness and joy. lie fell into a reverie, and wandered witli a delightful companion in castles of perpetual sunshine, and green retreats, and pleasant terraces.
But the lady never came.
Then the strain changed. There happened to be about this time a truly diabolic opera much in vogue, Avith unearthly choruses, and dances of fiendish revelry. These had been skill- fully adapted and introduced by the musicians, converting a dark and tragic theme into wild and grotesque merriment. But they could not succeed in diverting the mind of one of their audience from the character of the original composition. Dark thoughts and images fell upon the spirit of Sidney Wil- ton ; his hope and courage left him. He almost felt he could not execute to-night the bold purpose he had brooded over. He did not feel in good fortune. There seemed some demon gibbering near him, and he was infinitely relieved, like a man released from some mesmeric trance, wdien the music ceased, the dance broke up, and he found himself surrounded, not by demons, but the usual companions of his daily life.
But the lady never came.
" Where can your sister be ? " said Lady Montfort to En- dymion. " She promised me to come early ; something must have happened. Is she ill?"
18
m\
n i II
,■'(
\m
If ;
V
I! 'I 11 I- |.'!!J
> *
410
EXDYMUjX.
li\w'^'\
** Quite Avcll ; I siiw her before I left Hill Street. She wished 1110 to come alone, a? she would not 1)e here early."
"I hojic .she will be in time for the royal supper tabic; I quite count on her."
" She is sure to be here."
Lord Ilainault was in earnest conversation with Baron Scr- gius, now the minister of King Florestan at the Court of St. James'. It was a wise appointment, for Sergius knew inti- mately all the English statesmen of eminence, and had hnown them for many years. T^iey did not look ujion him as the mere rcpresentatiyc of a revolutionary and parvenu sovereign ; he was quite one of themselves, had graduated at the Congress of Vienna, and^ it was believed, had softened many subsequent difficulties by his sagacity. He had always been a cherished guest at Apsley House, and it was knoAvn the great duke often consulted him. *'As long as Sergius sways his councils, He will indulge in no adventures," said Europe. ''As long as Sergius remains here, the English allirnce is safe," said Eng- land. After Europe and England, the most important conli- dence to obtain was that of Lord ILainault, and Baron Sergius had boon not unsuccessful in that respect.
''Your master has only to be liberal and steady," said Lord Ilainault, with his accustomed genial yet half-sarcastic smile, " and he may have anything he likes. But we do not want any wars ; they are not liked in the City."
" Our policy is peace," said Sergius.
'"I think we ought to congratulate Sir Peter," said JMr. Waldershare to Adriana, with Avhom he had been dancing, and whom he was leading back to Lady Ilainault. " Sir Peter, here is a lady who wishes to congratulate you on your deserved ele- vation."
"Well, I do not know what to say about it," said the for- mer Mr. "Vigo, highly gratified, but a little confused ; " my friends would have it."
"Ay, ay," said Waldershare, " 'at the request of friends ;' the excuse I gave for publishing my sonnets." And then, ad- vancing, he delivered his charge to her chajperon, who looked dreamy, abstracted, and uninterested.
JOD'S IXVITATIOX.
II
t. She ly." tabic ; I
von Scr- rt of St. icw inti-
I known n as the ivcrcign ; Congress bscquent ihcrishecl ike often ncilfi, He 5 long as ;aid Eng- int conli-
II Scrgius
said Lord, tic smile, want any
said ^[r. cing, and eter, hero }rYed ele-
i the for- sed ; ''my
friends ; '
then, ad-
ho looked
*'"\Ve have just been congratulating the new baronet, Sir Peter Vigo," said Waldershare.
** Ah ! " said Lady Ilainault with a contemptuous sigh, '* he is, at any rate, not obliged to change his name. The desire to change one's name does indeed appear to me to be a singular folly. If vour name had been disgraccil, I could understand it, as I could understand a man then going about in a mask. But the odd thing is, the persons who always want to cliange their names arc those whose names are the most honored."
'• Oh, 3'ou are here !" said Mr. St. Barbe acidly to I\rr. Sey- mour llicks. *• I think you are every where. I suppose they will make you a baronet next. llaA'C }ou seen the batch ? I could not believe my eyes when I read it. I believe the government is demented. Not a single literary man among them. Not that I wanted their baronetc}'. Nothing Avould have tempted me to accept one. But tliere is (iushy ; he, 1 know, would have liked it. I must say I feel for Oushy ; his works only selling half Avhat they did, and then throAvn over in this insolent manner ! "
*'Gushyis not in society," said Mr. Seymour Ilicks in a solemn tone of contemptuous pity.
*' That is society," said St. Barbe as he received a bow of haughty grace from Mrs. Rodney, Avho, fascinating and fasci- nated, was listening to the enamored murmurs of an individ- ual with a very bright star and a very red ribbon.
"I dined with the Rodneys yesterday," said Mr. Seymour Ilicks ; ''they do the thing well."
"You dined there I " exclaimed St. Barbe. "It is very odd, they have never asked me. Not that I would have accept- ed their invitation. I avoid parvenus. The}- are too fidgety for my taste. I rerpiire repose, and only dine with the old nobility."
CHAPTER LXXXIX.
The Right Honorable Job Thornberry and Mrs. Thornberry had received an invitation to the Montfort ball. Job took up the card, and turned it over more than once, and looked at it
\
I
i
|
1 |
|
II |
I 4
412
LWIfYMWX.
as if it were .somo .<ti'au;;o auiinal, witli an air of pleaded and yet cynical pci'iilcxity ; then ho .shru;j^^i'(l his shoiildor.s and inurnuircd to hinisoU", '" Xo ; I don't think that will do. Be- sides, I must be at Ilurstley by that time."
(Join^^ to Ilurstley now was not so formidable an alTair as it was in Endyniion'.s boyhood. Then the journey occupied a whole and wearisome day. Little Ilurstley had become a l)usy .station of the great Sla})-I>ang railway, and a dispatch train landed you at the bustling and nourishing hostelry, our old and luunble friend, the llorsc Shoe, within the two hours. It was a rate that satisfied even 'riiornberrv, and almost recon- ciled him to the too frecpient j)rcsence of his wife aud family at Ilurstley, a phv-o to Avhich Mrs. I'hornberry had, it would seem, become ])assionately attached.
" There is a charm about the place I must say," said Job to himself, as he reached his ])ictures(pie home on a rich summer evening ; ''and yet I hated it as a boy. To bo sure, I was then discontented ajul unhajtpy, and now I have every reason to bo much the reverse. Our feelings affect even scenery. It cer- tainly is a pretty jdacc ; I really think one of the prettiest jdaces in England."
Job was cordially Avelcomed. His wife embraced him, and the younger children clung to him with an affection Avhich was not diminished by the remembrance that their father never visited them with empty hands. His eldest son, a good-look- ing and well-grown striplii ;•, just home for the holidays, stood apart, determined to show he was a man of the world, and superior to the weakness of domestic sensibility. "When the hubbub was a little over, he advanced and shook hands with his father with a certain dignity.
*'And when did you arrive, my boy ? I was looking up your train in Bradshaw as I came along. I made out you should get the branch at Culvers Gate."
*'I drove over," replied the son ; "I and a friend of mine drove tandem, and I'll bet we got here sooner than we should have done by the branch."
'' Hem ! " said Job Thornberry.
** Job," said Mrs. Thornberry, '"I have made two engage-
t/:a at rnr: uEcronv
-113
nicnt.-! for you this cvcniiiir. First, wc will fio nnd sec your fiitlitT, 1111(1 then we are to drink tea at the reetorv.*'
*• Jleiii ! *' .Slid Job Tlioriil)i.'rry ; "well, I would ratlier the (ir.<t cveniiif]; should have been a iiuiet one ; but let it be so."
The visit to the father was kind, dutiful, and wearisome. There was not ii single subject on which the father and son had thoughts in common. The eonversatioii of the father took various forms of expressing his wonder that his son had become what he was, and the son could only smile, and turn the sub- ject, by asking after the produce of some pi.rtieular Held that had been prolitic or obstinate iii old days. Mrs. Thornberry looked absent and was thinking of the rectory; the grandson who had accomi)anicd them was siloiit and supercilious ; and everybody felt relieved when IMrs. Thornberry, veiling her impatience by her fear of keci>iiig her father-in-law up late, made a determined move and concluded the domestic cere- mony.
The rectory afforded a lively contrast to the late scene. Mr. and ^Mrs. Penruddock Avere full of intelligence and anima- tion. Their welcome of Mr. Thornberry was exactly what it ought to have been ; respectful, even somewhat deferential, but cordial and unairectcd. They conversed on all subjects, imblic and private, and on both sremcd equally well informed, for they not only read more than one newspaper, but ^frs. Penruddock had an extensive correspondence, the conduct of which was one of the chief jileasures and excitements of her life. Their tea-erpiipagc too was a i)icture of abundance and refinement. Such pretty china, and sucli various and delicious eates ! White bread, and brown ])rcad, and plum cakes, and seed cakes, and no eml of cracknels, and toasts, dry or but- tered. Mrs. Thornberry seemed enchanted and gushing with affection — everybody was dear or dearest. Even the face of John Hampden beamed with condescending delight as he de- voured a pyramid of dainties.
Just before the tea-equipage was introduced Mrs. Penrud- dock rose from her scat and whispered something to Mrs. Thornberry, who seemed pleased, and agitated, and a little blushiuiT, and then their hostess addressed Job and said, '* I
\\
Em
i
I I
"WS
414
EXDYMIOX.
Avas mentioning lo your "vvife that the archbisliop was liere, and that I hope you v/ould not dislike meeting him."
And very sliortly after this, the archbishop, who had been taking a village walk, entered the room. It was evident that he was intimate with the occupiers of Ilurstley Hall. lie ad- dressed Mrs. Thornberry with the ease of habitual acquaint- ance, while John ILunpden seemed almost to rush into his arms. Job liimself had seen his grace in London, tliough ho had never had the opportunity of speaking to him, but yielded to his cordiality, Avhen the archbishop, on his being named, said, ''It is a pleasure to meet an old friend, and in times past a kind one."
It was a most agreeable evening. The archbishop talked to every one, but never seemed to engross the conversation. lie talked to the ladies of gardens, and cottages, and a little of books, seemed deeply interested in the studies and progress of the grandson, Tliornberry, Avho evidently idolized liini ; and in due course his grace Avas engaged in economical specu- lations Avith Job himself, aa'Iio AA'as quite pleased to And a priest as liberal and enlightened as he Avas able and thoroughly in- formed. An hour before midnight, they separated, though tlic archbishop attended them to the hu'".
Mrs. Thornberry's birthday Avas near at hand, which Job always commemorated Avith a gift. It had commenced Avith some scA'cre offering, like '' Paradise Lost," then it fell into the gentler form of Tennyson, and, of late, unconsciously un- der the influence of his Avife, it had taken the shape of a brace- let or a shaAvl.
This evening, as lu v,as rather feeling his Avay as to Avliat might please her most, Mrs. Tl\ornberry embracing him, and hiding her face on his breast, murmured: *'Do not giA'e mo any Jewel, dear Job. What I should like, Avould be that you should restore the cha])el here."
"Restore the chajjcl here ! oh, oh I " said Job Thornberry.
lere, and
uid been
ent tlia't
Ue ad-
cquaint-
into his
ougli ho
yielded
named,
mcs past
p talked orsation. d a little progress k1 him ; il s])ecu-
a priest ii?lilv in-
though
lich Job ;ed with fell into usly un- a brace- to what im, and give mo hat you
rn berry.
THE CHAPEL.
CHAPTER XC.
415
The archbishop called at Ilurstley Ilou.^e the next day. It was a visit to Mr. Thornberry, but all the family was soon present, and clustered round the visitor. Then they walked together in the gardens, which had become radiant under the taste and unlimited expenditure of ^Irs. Thornberry ; beds glowing with color or rivaling mosaics, choice conifers with their green or purple fruit, and rare roses witli their fanciful and beauteous names ; one, by the bye, named " Mrs. Penrud- dock," and a very gorgeous one, ''The Archbishop."
As they swept along the terraces, restored to their pristine comeliness, and down the green avenues bounded by copper beeches and ancient yews, where men wore sweeping away every leaf and tv;ig that had fallen in the night and marred the con- summate order, it must have been ditRcult for the Archbishop of Tyre not to recall the days gone by, when this brilliant and finished scene, then desolate and neglected, the abode of beauty and genius, yet almost of penury, had been to him a world of deep and familiar interest. Yes, he was walking in the same glade where he had once pleaded his own cause with an elo- quence which none of his most celebrated sermons had excelled. Did he think of this ? If he did, it was only to wrench the thought from his memory. Archbishops who are yet young, who are resolved to be cardinals, and who may bo pojjes, are superior to all human weakness.
"I should like to look at your chapel," said his grace to Mr. Thornberry ; "I remember it a lumber-room, and used to mourn over its desecration."
**I never was in it," said Job, ''andean not understand why my wife is so anxious about it as she seems to be. When we first went to London, she always sat under the Reverend Socinus Frost, and seemed very satisfied. I have heard him ; a sensible man — but sermons are not much in my Avay, and I do not belong to his sect, or indeed any other."
However, they went to the chapel all the same, for Mrs. Thornberry was resolved on the visit. It was a small chani-
I
k
1 i|
J
416
ENDYMIOX.
ber, but beautifully proportioned, like the mansion itself — of a blended Jttiliiin and gotliic style. The roof was flat, but had been richly gilt and painted, and Avas sustained by corbels of angels, divinely carved. There had been some pews in the building ; some had fallen to pieces, and some remained, but these were not in the original design. The sacred tabic had disappeared, but two saintly statues, sculptured in black oak, seemed still to guard the spot Avhich it had consecrated.
"I wonder what became of the communion table ?" said Job.
''Oh ! my dear father, do not call it a communion table," exclaimed John Hampden, pettishly.
''Why, wduit should I call it, my boy ? "
" The altar."
*'AVhy, what does it signify what we call it ? The thing is the same."
"Ah ! " exclaimed the young gentleman, in a tone of con- temptuous enthusiasm, "it is all the difference in the world. There should be a stone altar and a reredos. We have put up a reredos in our chapel at Bradley. All the fellows subscribed ;
5>
I gave a sovereign.
"Well, I must say," said the archbishop, who had been standing in advance with Mrs. Thornberry and the children, while this brief and becoming conversation was taking place be- tween father and son, "I think you could hardly do a better thing than restore this chapel, Mr. Thornberry, but there must be no mistake about it. It must be restored to the letter, and it is a stylo that is not commonly understood. I have a friend, however, who is master of it, the most rising man in his pro- fession, as far as church architecture is concerned, and I will get him just to run down and look at this, and if, as I hope, you resolve to restore it, rest assured he will do you justice, and you will be proud of your place of worship."
" I do not care how much we spend on our gardens," said Job, "for they are transitory pleasures, and we enjoy what we produce ; but why I should restore a chapel in a house which does not belong to myself is not so clear to me. "
" But it should belong to yourself," rejoined the archbishop.
AN' IMPORTAXT LETTER.
4ir
oak,
*' Ilnr.stley is not in the market, but it is to be purchiised. Ttike it altogether, ^ have always thought it one of the most enviable possessions in the world. The house, when put in order, would be one of the ornaments of the kingdom. The acreage, though considerable, is not overwhelming, and there is a range of wild country of endless charm. I wandered about it in my childhood and my youth, and I have nover known anything equal to it. Then as to tlic soil and all that, you know it. You arc a son of the soil. You loft it for great ob- jects, and you have attained those objects. They have given you fame as well as fortune. There would be something won- derfully dignified and graceful in returning to the land after you liave taken the principal part in solving the dillicult es which pertained to it, and emancipating it from many perils."
** I am sure it would bo the happiest day of my life, if Job would purchase Ilurstlcy," said ^Mrs. Thornberry.
"I should like to go to Oxford, and my father purchase Ilurstley," said the young gentleman. " If we have not landed property, I would sooner have none. If Ave have not land, I should like to go into the Church, and if I mav not 20 to Ox- ford, I would go to Cuddesdon at once. I know it can be done, for I know a fellow who has done it."
Poor Job Thornberry ! lie had ruled multitudes, and had conrpiered and commanded senates. Ilis Sovereign had made him one of her privy councilors, and half a million of people had returned him their representative to Parliament. And here he stood silent, and a little confused ; sapped by his wife, bullied by his son, and after having ]iassed a great part of his life in denouncing sacerdotalism, finding his whole future ca- reer chalked out, without himself being consulted, by a priest who was so polite, sensible, and so truly friendly, that his man- ner seemed to deprive its victims of every faculty of retort or repartee. Still he was going to say something when the door opened, and Mrs. Penruddock appeared, exclaiming in a cheer- ful voice, ''I thought I should find you here. I would not have troubled your grace, but this letter marked 'private, im- mediate, and to be forwarded,' has been wandering about for
;■
1 : I
if
418
ENDYMIOX.
sonic time, and I tliouglit it was bettor to bring it to you at
once.
J>
The Archbishop of Tyre took the letter, unci toC'^mcd to start as he read the direction. Then he stood aside, opencu it, and read its contents. The letter was from Lady Roehampton, de- siring tu see him as soon as possible on a matter of the utmost gravity, and entreating him not to delay his departure, wher- ever he might be.
"I am sorry to quit you all," said liis grace ; '^but I must go up to town immediately. The business is urgent."
I «
•I
I ll'^lt
CHAPTER XCI.
SxDYiiiox arrived at home very late from the Montfort ball, and rose in consequence at an unusually late hour. Ho had taken means to become sufficiently acquainted with the cause of his sister's absence the niglit before, so he had no anx- iety on that head. Lady Roehamptor had really intended to have been present, was indeed dressed for the occasion ; but when the moment of trial arrived, she was absolutely unequal to the effort. All this vras amplified in a little note from his sister, which his valet brought him in the morning. What, however, considerably surprised him in this communication was her announcement that her feelings last niglit had proved to her that she ought not to remain in London, and tluit she in- tended to find solitude and repose in the little watering-place where she had passed a tranquil autumn during the first year of her Avidowhood. What completed his astonishment, how- ever, was the closing intimation that, in all i)robability, she Avould have left town before he rose. The moment she had got a little settled she Avould y/rito to him, and when business per- mitted, he must come and pay her a little visit.
" She was always capricious," exclaimed Lady Montfort, who had not forgotten the disturbance of her royal supper-table.
rdly that I think," said Endymion. *' I have always u Myra as a singularly consistent character."
a
LADY MONTFORT OFFEXDED.
119
'' I know, you never admit your sister luis a fault."
''You said the other day yourself that she was the only perfect character j^ou knew."
" Did I say that ? I think her capricious."
'* I do not think you arc capricious," said Endymion, '' and yet the world sometimes says you are. "
''I change my opinion of persons when my taste is oilend- ed," said Lady Montfort. ''What I admired in your sister, though I confess I sometimes wislicd not to admire her, was that she never offended my taste. "
*' I hope satisfied it," said Endymion.
"Yes, satisfied it, always satisfied it. I wonder what will be her lot, for considering her youth, her destiny has hardly begun. Somehow or other, I do not tliink she will marry Sidney AYilton."
" I have sometimes thought that Avould be," said En- dymion.
"Well, it would be, I think, a happy match. All the cir- cumstances would bo collected that form what is supposed to be happiness. But tastes differ about destinies as well as about manners. For my part, I think to have a husband who loved you, and he clever, accomplished, charming, ambitious, would be happiness ; but I doubt whether your sister cares so much about these things. She may, of course does, talk to you more freely ; but with others, in her most open hours, there seems a secret fund of reserve in her character which I never could penetrate, except, I think, it is a reserve which does not origi- nate in a love of tranquillity, but quite the reverse. She is a strong character."
" Then, hardly a capricious one."
" No, not capricious ; I only said that to tease you. I am capricious ; I know it. I disregard people sometimes that I have patronized and flattered. It is not merely that I have changed my opinion of them, but I positively hate them."
" I hope you Avill never hate me," said Endymion.
" You have never offended my taste yet," said Lady Mont- fort with a smile.
Endymion was engaged to dine to-day with Mr. Bertie
r \
m
Hil
! *
420
EXDYMION.
Trcmainc. Altlioiigli now in hostile political camps, that great I'^ader of men never permitted their acquaintance ta cease. '' lie is young," reasoned Mr. Bertie Tremaine ; "every political party changes its principles on an average once in ten years. Those who are young must often then form new con- nections, and Fcrrars will then conie to me. He will bo ripe ;nid experienced, and I could give him a good deal. I do not want numbers. I want men. In opposition, numbers often only embarrass. The power of tht future is ministerial capa- city. The leader with a cabinet foimed will be the minister of England, lie is not to trouble himself about numbers ; that is an affair of the constituencies."
Male dinners are in general not amusing. When they are formed, as they usually are, of men who arc supposed to possess a strong and common sympathy — political, sporting, literary, military, social — tliere is necessarily a monotony of thought and feeling, and of tiic materials which induce thought and feeling. In a male dinner of party politicians, conversation soon degenerates into what is termed " shop " ; anecdotes about divisions, criticism of speeches, conjectures about office, specu- lations on impending .lections, and above all, that heinous subject on which enormous fibs are ever told, the registration. Tliere are, however, occasional glimpses in their talk wdiicli would seem to intimate that they have another life outside the Houses of Parliament. But that extenuating circumstance does not apply to the sporting dinner. There they begin with odds and handicaps, and end with handicaps and odds, and it is doubtful whether it ever occurs to any one present, that there is any other existing combination of atoms except odds and handicaps. A dinner of wits is proverbially a palace of silence ; and the envy "ul hatred Avhich all literary men really feel for each other, especially when they are exchanging dedi- cations of mutual affection, always insure, in such assemblies, the agreeable presence of a general feeling of painful constraint. If a good thing occurs to a guest, he will not express it, lest his neighbor, who is publishing a novel in numbers, shall ap- propriate it next month, or he himself, who has the same re- sponsibility of production, be deprived of its legitimate appear-
!i!!
AMUSIXCr EXIIIBiriOX.^.
421
that
ance. Those who desire to learn sometlihig of the manconvrcs at the Russian and Prussian reviews, or tlie hist rumor at Aldershot or the military clubs, will know where to find this feast of reason. The How of soul in these male festivals is l^crhaps, on the wliolc, more genial when found in a society of young gentlemen, graduates of the Turf and tlie Marlborough, and guided in their benignant studies by the gentle experience and tlie mild wisdom of Wliite's. The startling scandal, the rattling anecdote, the astounding leaps, and the amazing liots, afford for the moment a somewhat })leasing distraction, but when it is discovered that all these habitual flim-ilams arc, in general, the airy creatures of inaccuracy and exaggeration — that tho scandal is not true, the anecdote has no foundation, and that the feats of skill and strength are invested with the organic weakness of tradition, the vagaries lose something of the charm of novelt}', and are almost as insipid as claret from which the bouquet has evaporated.
The male dinners of Mr. Bertie Tremaine Avere an exception to the general /eputation of such meetings. They were never dull. In the first place, though to be known at least by repu- tation was an indispensable condition of being present, he brought different classes together, and this, at least for once, stimulates and gratifies curiosity. His house too was open to foreigners of celebrity, without reference to their political parties or opinions. Every one was welcome except absolute assassins. The host too had studied the art of developing character and conversation, and if sometimes he was not so successful in this respect as he deserved, there was no lack of amusing entertainment, for in these social encounters Mr. Bertie Trema"ne was a reserve in himself, and if nobody else would talk, he would avail himself of the ojiportunity of pour- ing forth the treasures of his own teeming intelligence. His various knowledge, his power of speech, his eccentric paradoxes, his pompous rhetoric, relieved by some happy sarcasm, and the obvious sense, in all he said and did, of innate superiority to all his guests, made these exhibitions extremely amusing.
"What Bertie Tremaine will end in," Endymion would sometimes say, ''perjilexes me. Had there been no revolution
MHM
I
B
422
ENDYMIOy.
in 1833, iind ho luid entered Parliument for his family borougli, I think he must by this time have been a minister. Such te- nacity of j)urpose could scarcely fail. But he has had to say and do so many odd things, first to get into Parliament, and secondly to keep there, that his future now is not so clear. When I first knew him, ho was a Benthamite ; at present, I sometimes seem to foresee that he will end by being the leader of the Protectionists and the Protestants."
''And a
good
strong party too," said Trcnchard, ''but
query whether strong enough ? "
"That is exactly what Bertie Tremainc is trying to find out."
Mr. Bertie Tremaine's manner in receiving his guests was courtly and ceremonious ; a contrast to the free and easy style of the time. But it was adopted after due reflection. "No man can tell what will be the position he may be called upon to fill. But he has a right to assume ho Avill always bo ascend- ing. I, for example, may be destined to be the president of a republic, the regent of a monarchy, or a sovereign myself. It would be painful and disagreeable to have to change one's man- ner at a perhaps advanced period of life, and become liable to the unpopular imputation that you had grown arrogant and overbearing. On the contrary, in my case, whatever my ele- vation, there will be no change. M} brother, Mr. Tremaine Bertie, acts on a different principle. He is a Sybarite, and has a general contempt for mankind, certainly for the mob and tlio middle class, but he is ' Hail fellow, well mot ! ' with them all. He says it answers at elections ; I doubt it. I myself represent a popular constituency, but I believe I owe my success in no slight measure to the manner in which I gave my hand when I permitted it to be touched. As I say sometimes to Mr. Tre- mainc Bertie, 'You will find this habit of social familiarity embarrassing when I send you to St. Petersburg or Vienna.'"
"Waldershare dined there, now a peer, though, as he rejoiced to say, not a peer of Parliament. An Irish peer, with an Eng- lish constituency, filled, according to Waldershare, the most enviable of positions. His rank gave him social influence, and his seat in the House of Commons that power which all aspire
! . ■Ill 1
i;
THE COMMON RUMOR.
423
to obtain. The cynosure of the banquet, liowcvcr, was a ■^i.nx- tleman wlio had, about a year before, been tlic president oi a republic for nearly six weeks, and who being master of a species of rhapsodical rhetoric, highly useful in troubled times, when there is no real business to transact, and where there is nobody to transact it, had disajipeared when the treasury was quite empty, and there were no further funds to reward the enthusi- astic citizens who had hitherto patriotically maintained order at wages about double in amount to what they had previously received in their handicrafts. This great reputation had been brought over by Mr. Tremaine Bertie, now introducing him into English political society. Mr. Tremaine Bertie hung upon the accents of the oracle, every word of which was intended to be picturesque or profound, and then surveyed his friends with a glance of appreciating wonder. Sensible Englishmen, like Endymion and Trenchard, looked upon the whole exhibition as fustian, and received the revelations with a smile of frigid courtesy.
The presence, however, of this celebrity of six weeks gave occasionally a tone of foreign politics to the conversation, and the dissociation of ideas, which, in due course, rules all talk, brought them, among other incidents and instances, to the remarkable career of King Florestan.
''And yet he has his mortifications," said a sensible man. '' He wants a wife, and the princesses of the world win not furnish him Avith one."
'* What authority have you for saying so," exclaimed the fiery Waldershare. *' The princesses of the world would be great fools if they refused such a man, but I know of no au- thentic instance of such denial." " Well, it is the common rumor." '•'And, therefore, probably a common falsehood." "Were he wise," said Mr. Bertie Tremaine, '•' King Flores- tan would not marry. Dynasties are unpopular ; especially new ones. The present age is monarchical, but not dynastic. The king, who is a man of reach, and who has been pondering such circumstances all his life, is probably well aware of this, and will not be such a fool as to marry."
I
;; }
ill
!'■
f*^
I
-til
iri.:i
424
EXDYAIIOX.
" IIow is tlie monarcliy to go on, if there is to be no suc- cessor?"' inquired Trcncluird. *' Y'ou would nut reueu' ilie Polisli constitution ?"
'* Tiic Polisli constitution, by the bye, was not so bud a thing," said Mr. Bertie Tremaine. "Under it a distinguished Englishman might have mixed with the crowned heads of Eu- rope, as Sir Philip Sidney nearly did. But I was looking to something superior to the Polish constitution, or perhaps any other ; I was cont.emi)lating a monarchy with the i)rinciplc of adoption. That would give you all the excellence of the Polish constitution, and the order and constancy in which it failed. It would realize the Avant of the age ; monarchical, not dynas- tical, institutions, and it would act indei>cu(lent of the jiassions and intrigues of the multitude. The })riiiciple of adoption was the secret of the strength and endurance of Iionie. It gave Ivomc alike the Scipio. and the Antonines."
"A court would be rather dull without a woman at its head. "
" On the contrary," said Mr. Bertie Tremaine. " It was Louis Quatorzc who made the court ; not his queen."
'MVell," said AValdershare, ''all the same, I fear King riorcstan Tvill adopt no one in this room, though he has several friends hero, and I am one ; and I believe that ho will marry, and I can not help fancying the partner of his throne will not be as insignificant as Louis the Fourtoeiith's Avifc, or Catherine of Braganza."
Jawett dined this day with Mr. Bertie Tremaine. He was a frequent guest there, and still was the editor of the " Pre- cursor," though it sometimes baffled all that lucidity of style for which lie was celebrated to reconcile the conduct of the party, of which the '* Precursor " was alike the oracle and or- gan, with the opinions with wliicli that now well-established journal first attempted to direct and illuminate the public mind. It seemed to the editor that the " Precursor " dwelt more on the past than became a harbinger of the future. Not that Mr. Bertie Tremaine ever for a moment admitted that there was any difficulty in any case. He never permitted any dogmas that he had ever enunciated to be surrendered, however contrary at their first aspect.
PA RLI AMENTA R V LIFE.
425
"All aro but parts of one stupcutloua whole,"
and few things were more interesting tlum tlio conferencos in wliicli Mr. Bertie Trcmaino hud to im[):irt his views and in- structions to the master of tliat hieid style, which liad the merit of making everything so very clear when the master liimself was, as at present, extremely i)crplexed and confused. Jawett lingered after the other guests, that he might liavo the advantage of consulting the great leader on the course which he ought to take in advocating a measure which seemed com- pletely at variance with all the princii)lcs they had ever upheld.
" I do not see your dilliculty," wound up the host. '' Your case is clear. You have a principle which will carry you through everything. That is the charm of a principle. Y''ou have always an answer ready."
" But in this case," somewhat timidly inquired Mr. Jawett, " what would be the principle on Avhicli I should rest ?"
*' You must show," said Mr. Bertie Tremaine, ** that de- mocracy is aristocracy in disguise ; and that aristocracy is de- mocracy in disguise. It will carry you through everything."
Even Jawett looked a little amazed.
*' But — " he was beginning, when Mr. Bertie Tremaine arose. ** Think of wdiat I have said, and if on retlcction any doubt or difhculty remain in your mind, call on me to-morrow before I go to the House. At i)resent, I must pay my respects to Lady Beaumaris. She is the only woman the Tories can boast of ; but she is a first-rato woman, and is a power which I must secure."
' ■ -
'■ ;
CHAPTER XCII.
A MOXTH had nearly elapsed since the Mont fort ball ; the season was over and the session was nearly finisheth The pres- sure of parliamentary life for those in ofiflce is extreme during this last ni'jnth, yet Endymion would have contrived, were it only for a day, to have visited his sister, had Lady Rochamp- ton much encouraged his appearance. Strange as it seemed
426
EX I) YMION.
to him, she did iwi, but on the contrary, alway.s as^-unied tluit the i)rorogation of Parhument wouhl alone bring them togeth- er again. When he pro^^o.sed on one occa?>ion to come down for four-and-twenty hours, «he absolutely, though with much affection, adjourned the fullillmcnt of tlic olTer. It seemed that blie was not yet quite settled.
Lady Montfort lingered in London even after Goodwood. She was rather embarrassed, as she told Endymion, about her future plans. Lord Montfort Avas at Princedown, where she wished to join him, but he did not respond to her wishes ; on the contrary, while announcing that he was indisposed, and meant to remain at Princedown for the summer, he suggested that she should avail herself of the oi)portunity, and pay a long visit to her family in the north. ''I know what he means," she observed ; " he wants the world to believe that wc are sep- arated, lie can not repudiate me — he is too great a gentle -an to do anything coarsely unjust ; but he thinks, by tact a >- direct means, he may attain our virtual separation, lie nas had this purpose for years, I believe now ever since our mar- riage, but hitherto I have baffled him. I ought to be with him ; I really believe he is indisposed, his face has become so pale of late ; but were I to persist in going to Princedown I should only drive him away. He would go oif in the night without leaving his address, and something would happen — dreadful or absurd. What I had best do, I think, is this. You are going at last to pay your visit to your sister ; I will write to my lord and tell him that as he docs not wish me to go to Princedown, I propose to go to Montfort Castle. When the flag is flying at Montfort, I can pay a visit of any length to my family. It will only be a neighboring visit from Montfort to them ; perhaps, too, they might return it. At any rate, then they can not say my lord and I are separatee!. We need not live under the same roof, but so long as I live under his roof the world considers us united. It is a pity to have to scheme in this manner, and rather degrading, particularly when one might be so happy with him. But you know, my dear En- dymion, all about our affairs. Your friend is not a very happy woman, and if not a very unhappy one, it is owing much to
A SHORT VISIT.
4^
your dear friciulsliip, and a little to niyr.wii s})irit which ko('i)s inc up under what is frequent and t^ometinies bitter niortiliea- tion. And now adieu ! I suppose you can not he away le.-s than a week. Proljablv on your return you will find nie here. I can not go to Montfort without his permission. But he will give it. I ohserye that he will always do anything to gain his immediate object. His immediate ol)ject is, that I shall not go to Princedown, and so he will agree that I shall go to Montfort."
For the first time in his life, Endymion felt some constraint in the presence of Myra. There Avas something elianged in her manner. No diminution of allVetion, for she threw her arms around him and pressed him to her heart ; and then she looked at him anxiously, eyen sadly, and kissed both his eyes, and then she remained for some moments in silence with her face hid on his shoulder. Neyer since the loss of Lord liochamp- ton had she seemed so subdued.
** It is a long separation," she at length said, with a voice and smile equally faint, ''and you must be a little wearied with your traveling. Come and refresh yourself, and then I will show you my boudoir I have made here ; rather pretty, out of nothing. And then we will sit down and have a long talk together, for I have much to tell you, and I want your advice. "
'"She is going to marry Sidney Wilton," thought Endym- ion ; ''that is clear."
The boudoir was really pretty, '"'made out of nothing ;" a gay chintz, some shelves of beautiful books, some fanciful chairs, and a portrait of Lord Roehampton.
It was a long interview, very long, and if one could judge by the countenance of Endymion, when ho quitted the boudoir and hastened to his room, of grave import. Sometimes his face Avas pale, sometimes scarlet ; the changes were rapid, but the expression was agitated rather than one of gratification.
He sent instantly for his servant, and then penned this telegram to Lady Montfort : " My visit here will be short. I am to see you immediately. Xothing must prevent your being at home when I call to-morrow, about four o'clock. Most, most important."
ii »
|
¥ r |
428
EXDYMIOK
CIIArTER XCIII.
Ii '■
tl
Ii
J;-t
W'A
" "Well, sonictliing has Imppcncd at last," said Lady Mont- fort witli a Avondcriug coiiptcnance ; "it is too marvelous ! *'
"She goes to Osborne to-day," continued Endymion, '*and I suppose after tiiat, in due course, it Avill be generally known. I should think the formal announcement would be made abroad. It has been kci)t wonderfully close. 81ie wished you to know it first, at least from her. I do not think she ever hesitated about accepting liim. There was delay from varic s causes ; whether there should bo a marriage by proxy first in this coun- try, and other i)oints ; about religion for example." " "Vv'eil?"
'' She enters the Catholic Church, the Archbisho}) of Tyre lias received her. There is no diiHculty and no great cere- monies in such matters. She was rebaptized, but only by way of precaution. It was not necessary, foi our orders, you know, are recognized by Rome."
"' And that was all ! "
*'A11, with a first communion and confession. It is all consummated now; as you say, 'It is too wonderful.' A first confession, and to Kigcl Penruddock, Avho says life is Hat and insipid ! "
" I shall write to her : I must write to her. I Avonder if I shall sec her before she departs."
"That is cert:ihi if a'ou Avish it ; she Avishes it."
"And Avhen does she go ? And who goes Avith her ? "
" She Avill bo under my charge," said Endymion. "It is fortunate that it should happen at a time Avlien I am free. I am ]iersonally to deliA'cr her to the king. The Duke of St. Angelo, Baron Scrgius, and tlic archbishop accompany her, and AValdersharo, at the particular recpiest of his majesty."
"And no lady?"
"She takes Adriana Avitli her."
" Adriana !" repeated Lady Montfort, and a cloud passed over her broAv. There was a momentary pause, and then Lady IMontfort said, " I Avisli she Avould take me."
A GREAT CHANGE.
421>
'■Tliut would be delightful," said Endymion, "and mosc becoming — to have for a companion the greatest lady of our court."
'' She Avill not take me with her," said Lady Montfort, sorrowfully but decisively, and shaking her head. '' Dear woman ! I loved her alway.^, often most when I seemed least alTectionate — but there was between us something — " and she hesitated. " Ileigho ! I may be the greatest lady of our court, but I am a very unhappy woman, Endymion, tind what annoys and dispirits me most, sometimes quite breaks me down, is that I can not see that 1 deserve my lot."
It happened as Endymion foresaw ; the first announcement came from abroad. King Florcstan suddenly sent a message to his Parliament, that his majesty was about to present them with a queen. She was not the daughter of a reigning house, but she came from the land of freedom and political wisdom, and from the purest and inost powerful court in Europe. His subjects soon learned that she was tire most beautiful of women, for the portrait of the Countess of Roehampton, as it were by magic, seemed suddenly to fill every window in every shop in the teeming and brilliant capital where she was about to reign.
It was convenient that these great events should occur when everybody was out of town. Lad} Montfort alone re- mained, the frequent, if not constant, companion of the new Berengaria soon recovered her high si)irits. There-
sovereign.
Avas much to do and prepare in which her hints and advice- were invaluable. Though she was not to have the honor of attending Myra to her new home, which, considering her high l)lace in the English court, was perhaps hardly consistent with etiquette, for so she now cleverly put it, she was to pay her majesty a visit in duo time. The momentary despondency that had clouded her brilliant countenance had not only dis- appeared, but she had quite forgotten, and certainly would not admit, that she was anything but the most sanguine and ener- getic of beings, and rallied Endymion unmercifully for his careworn countenance and too frequent air of depression. Tlio truth is, the great change that was impending was one which might well make him serious, and sometimes sad.
I
* ;l
|
1 ' |
' '1 |
|
■1 ' 1 |
i |
|
i| |
ij'l 1^ |
|
ii " |
II |
|
si . Ili |
|
|
11''^ |
(;;■ |
130
ENDYMIOK
The witlidrawal of a female influence, so potent on his life as that of his sister, was itself a great event. There had been between them from the cradle, which^ it may be said, they had shared, a strong and perfect sympathy. They had experienced together vast and strange vicissitudes of life. Though much separated in his early youth, there had still been a constant interchange of thought and feeling between them. For the last twelve years or so, ever since M3'ra had become acquainted with the Neuchatcl family, they may bo said never to have separated — at least they had maintained a constant communi- cation, and generally a personal one. She had in a great de- gree molded his life. Her unfaltering, though often unseen, influence had created his advancement. Her Avill was more powerful than his. He was more prudent and plastic. He felt this keenly. Ho was conscious, tliat left to himself, he would probably have achieved much less. He remembered her words when they parted for the first time at Hurstley, " Wo- men will be your best friends in l:fe." And that brought his thoughts to the only subject on which they had ever dilTered — lier Avished-for union between himself and Adriana. He felt he had crossed her there — that he had jirevented the fulfill- ment of her deeply matured plans. Perhaps, had that mar- riage taken i)]ace, she would never have quitted England. Per- haps ; but was that desirable ? Was it not fitter that so lofty a spirit should find a seat as exalted as her capacity ? Myra was a sovereign ! In this age of strange events, not the least strange. No petty cares and griefs must obtrude themselves in such majestic associations. And yet the days at Hainault were very happy, and the bright visits to Gaydene, and her own pleasant though stately home. His heart was agitated, and his eyes were often moistened with emotion. He seemed to think that all the thrones of Christendom could be no com- pensation for the loss of this beloved genius of his life, whom he might never see again. Sometimes, when he paid his daily visit to Berengaria, she wlio knew him by heart, who studied every expression of liis countenance and every tone of his voice, would say to him, after a few minutes of desultory and feeble conversation, "You are thinking of your sister, Endymion ?"
LADY MONTFORrS FRIENDSHIP.
431
?"
lie did not reply, but gave a sort of faint, mournful smile.
''This separation is a trial, a severe one, and I knew you would feel it," said Lady Montfort. '* I feel it ; I loved your sister, but she did not love me. Nobody that I love ever docs love me."
''Oh ! do not say that. Lady Montfort."
" It is what I feel. I can not console you. There is no- thing I can do for you. My friendship, if you value it, wliich I will not doubt you do, you fully possessed before your sister was a queen. So that goes for nothing."
"I must say, I feel sometimes most miserable."
" Nonsense, Endymion ; if anything could annoy your sis- ter more than another, it would be to hear of such feelings on your part. I must say she has courage. She has found her fitting place. Her brother ought to do the same. You have a great object in life, at least you had, but I have no faith in sentimentalists. If I had been sentimental, I should have gone into a convent long ago."
"If to feel is to be sentimental, I can not help it."
" All feeling which has no object to attain is morbid and maudlin," said Lady Montfort. "You say you are very miser- able, and at the same time you d<i not know what you want. Would you have your sister dethroned ? And if you would, could you accomplish your purpose ? Well, then, what non- sense to think about her except to feel proud of her elevation, and prouder still that she is equal to it."
" You always have the best of every argument," said En- dymion.
"Of course," said Lady Montfort. "What I want you to do is to exert yourself. You have now a strong social position, for Sidney Wilton tells me the queen has relinquished to you her mansion and the whole of her income, which is no mean one. You must collect your friends about you. Our govern- ment is not too strong, I can tell you. We must brush up in the recess. What with Mr. Bertie Tremaine and his friends joining the Protectionists, and the ultra-Radicals wanting, as they always do, something impossible, I see seeds of discom- fiture unless they are met with energy. You stand high, and
Ji
432
ENDYMIOK
"'%■ :« I
are well spoken of even by our opponent-^. Whether we stand or fall, it is a moment for you to increase your personal in- fluence. That it, the element now to encourage in your career, because you ar^ not like the old fogies in the cabinet, who, if they go out. will never enter another again. You have a fu- ture, and tliough you may not be an emperor, you may be what I esteem more, prime minister of this country."
"You are always so sanguine."
**Not more sanguine than your sister. Often we liave talked of this. I wish she Avere here to help us, but I will do my part. At present let us go to luncheon. "
w
si
1:
y
CHAPTER XCIV.
There was a splendid royal yacht, though not one belong- ing to our gracious sovereign, lying in one of Her Majesty's southern ports, and the yacht was convoyed by a smart frigate. The crews were much ashore, and were very popular, tor they spent a great deal of money. Everybody knew what was the purpose of their bright craft, and every one was interested in it. A beautiful Englislnvoman had been selected to fill a for- eign and brilliant throne occui)ied by a prince, who had been educated in our own country, who ever avowed his sympathies with ** the inviolate island of the sage and free." So in fact there was some basis for the enthusiasm which was felt on this occasion by the inhabitants of Nethampton. AVhat every one wanted to know was when she would sail. Ah ! that was a secret, still a secret that could hardly be kept for the eight- and-forty hours preceding her departure, and, therefore, one day, with no formal notice, all the inhabitants of Nethampton were in gala ; streets and ships dressed out with the flags of all nations ; the church bells ringing ; and busy little girls run- ning about with huge bouquets.
At the very instant expected, the special train was signaled, and drove into the crimson station amid the thunder of artil- lery, the blare of trumpets, the beating of drums, and cheers
A PLEASAXT VOYAGE.
433
wc stand sonal iii- ir career, :, wlio, if ive a fu- f be Avhat
we have I will do
e belong- Majesty's t frigate, for they was the rested in fill a for- had been mpathies lo in fact t on this very one at was a le eight- fore, one lampton flags of jirlsrun-
iignaled, of artil- li cheers
from thousands even louder and longer than the voices of tlie cannon. Leaning on the arm of her brother, and attended by the Princess of Montserrat and the Honorable Adriana Kou- chatel, Baron Sergius, the Duke of St. Angelo, the Archbishop of Tyre, and Lord Waldershare, the daughter of William Fer- rars, gracious, yet looking as if she were born to empire, re- ceived the congratulatory address of the mayor and corporation and citizens of Nethamptou, and permitted her hand to bo kissed, not only by his worship, but by at least two aldermen.
They were on the waters, and the shores of Albion, fust fading away, had diminished to a speck. It is a melancholy and tender moment, and Myra was in her ample and splendid cabin and alone. "It is a trial," she felt, "but all that I love and value in this world are in this vessel," and she thought of Endymion and Adriana. Tlie gentlemen were on deck, chiefly smoking or rcconnoitering their convoy through their tele- scopes.
"I must say," said "Waldershare, "it was a grand idea of our kings making themselves sovereigns o£ the sea. The greater portion of this planet is water ; so we at once became a first-rate power. We oavc our navy entirely to tlio Stuarts. King James the Second was the true founder and hero of tho British navy. He was the worthy son of his admirable father, that blessed martyr, the restorer at least, if not the inventor, of ship money ; the most patriotic and popular tax that ever was devised by man. The Xonconformists thought themselves so wise in resisting it, and they have got the naval estimates instead ! "
The voyage was propitious, the weather delightful, and Avhen they had entered the southern waters, Waldershare con- fessed that lie felt the deliciousness of life. If the scene and the impending events, and their own fair thoughts had not been adequate to interest them, there were ample resources at their command ; all the ladies were skilled musicians, the'.r concerts commenced at sunset, and the sweetness of their voices long lingered over the moonlit waters.
Adriana, one evening, bending over the bulwarks of the yacht, was watching the track of phosphoric light, struck into 19
ii'
I *
SI
l»
434
EXDYMIOX.
! (
brilliancy from the diirk-bluc waters by the ]orow of their rapid vessel. *'It is a fascinating sight. Miss Neiiclia^;el, and it seems one might gaze on it for ever."
"Ah ! Lord Waldcrshare, yon caught me in a reverie."
"What more sweet ?"
"Well, that depends on its subject. To tell the trutli, I was thinking that these lights resembled a little your conversa- tion ; all the wordrous things you are alwaj's saying or telling
us.
5>
The archbishop was a man who never rccu ..^.d to the past. One never could suppose that Endymion and himself had been companions in their early youth, or, so far as their intercourse was concerned, that there was such a place in the world as Hurstley. One night, however, as they were pacing the deck together, he took the arm of Endymion, and said, " I trace the hand of Providence in every incident of your sister's life. What we deemed misfortunes, sorroAvs, even calamities, were forming a character originally endowed with supreme will, and destined for the highest jmrposcs. There was a moment at Hurstley when I myself was crushed to the earth, and cared not to live ; vain, short-sighted mortal ! Our Great Master was at that moment shaping everything to his ends, and pre- paring for the entrance into his Church of a woman who may be, who will be, I believe, another St. Helena."
"We have not spoken of this subject before," said Endym- ion, " and I should not have cared had our silence continued, but T must now tell you frankl}^, the secession of my sister from the church of her fathers was to me by no means a mat- ter of unmixed satisfaction."
" The time will come when you will recognize it as the con- summation of a Divine plan," said the archbishop.
"I feel great confidence that my sister will never be the slave of superstition," said Endymion. "' Her mind is too mas- culine for that ; she will remember that the throne she fills has been already once lost by the fatal influence of the Jesuits."
"The influence of the Jesuits is the influence of Divine truth," said his companion. "And how is it possible for such influence not to prevail ? What you treat as defeats, discom-
REJOICINGS.
435
fitures, are events which yon do not comprehend. They arc incidents all leading to one great end — tlic trinmph of the Church — that is, the triumph of God."
'' I will not decide what are great ends ; I am content to as- certain what is wise conduct. And it would not be wise conduct, in my opinion, for the king to rest upon the Jesuits."
" Tlie Jesuits never fell except from conspiracy against them. It is never the public voice tliat demands their expul- sion or the public effort that accomplislics it. It is always the affair of sovereigns and statesmen, of politicians, of men, in short, who feel that there is a power at work, and tliat jiower one not favorable to their schemes or objects of government."
" Well, we shall see," said Endymion ; " I candidly tell you, I liope the Jesuits will have as little influence in my brother-in- law's kingdom as in my own country."
*'As little," said Nigel, somewhat sarcastically, ''I should be almost content if the holy order in every country had as much influence as they noAV have in England. "
*' I think your grace exaggerates."
" Before two years are past," said the !ti'chbishop, speaking very slowly, *' I foresee that the Jesuits v ill be privileged in England, and the hierarchy of our Church recognized."
It was a delicious afternoon; it had Icen sultry, but the sun had now greatly declined, when tlio captain of the yacht came down to announce to the queen that they were in sight of her new country, and she hastened on deck to behold the rapidly nearing sh )re. A squadron of sliij)s of war had stood out to meet her, and in duo time the towers and spires of a beautiful city appeared, wliich was the port of the capital, and itself almost worthy of being one. A royal barge, propelled by four-and-twenty rowers, and bearing the lord chamberlain, awaited the queen, and the moment her majesty and the Princess of Montserrat had taken their seats, salutes thur. jred from every ship of war, responded to by fort and battery ashore.
When they landed, they were conducted by chief officers of the court to a pavilion which faced the western sky, now glow- ing like an opal with every shade of the Iris, and then becom- ing of a li.^ht green color varied only by some slight clouds
;*
!;
M»
430
EXDYMIOy.
Liirnislied witli gold. A trooj) of maidens ])rought flowers as Lriglit as themselves, and then a company of pages advanced, and kneeling, offered to the queen chocolate in a crystal cup.
According to the programme draAvn up by the heralds, and every tittle of it founded on precedents, the king and the royal carriages Avere to have met tlie travelers on their arrival at the metropolis ; but there are feelings which heralds do not com- prehend, and which defy precedents. Suddenly there was a shout, a loud clieer, a louder salute. Some one had arrived unexpectedly. A young man, stately but pale, moved through the swiftly receding crowd, alone and unattended, entered the pavilion, advanced to the (pieen, kissed her hand, and then both her cheeks, just murmuring, "My best beloved, this, this indeed is joy."
The capital was fortified, and the station was Avithout the walls ; here the royal carriages awaited them. The crowd was immense ; the ramparts on this occasion were covered with people. It was an almost sultr} it, with every star visible, and clear and warm and sweet, iis the royal carriage crossed the drawbridge and entered the chief gates, the whole city was in an instant suddenly illuminated — in a flash. The architec- tural lines of the city walls, and of every street, were indicated, and along the ramparts at not distant intervals were tripods, each crowned with a silver flame, Aiiicli cast around the radi- ance of day.
He held and pressed her hand as in silence she beheld the wondrous scene. They had to make a progress of some miles ; the way was kept throughout by soldiery and civic guards, while beyond them was an inflnite population, all cheering and many of them waving torches. They passed through many streets, and squares with marvelous fountains, until they ar- rived at the chief and royal street, which has no equal in the world. It is more than a mile long, never swerving from a straight line, broad, yet the houses so elevated that they gener- ally furnished the shade this ardent clime requires. The archi- tecture of this street is so varied that it never becomes monoto- nous, some beautiful church, or palace, or ministerial hotel perpetually varying the effect. All the windows were full on
anEA T EXT/ir.^lAS.V.
4.3T
lowers as Livanced, al cup. lids, and the royal 'al at the lot com- re was a
1 arrived through
tered the md then this, this
liout the rowd was ired with ir visible, e crossed ! city was architec- ndicated, 5 tripods, the radi-
Dheld the ne miles ;
2 guards, ering and Lgh many L they ar- nal in the \g from a ley gener- rhe archi- s nionoto- srial hotel re full on
tliis occasion, and even the roofs were crowded. Every house was covered with tapestry, and tlic hue of every building was marked out by artificial light. I'lie moon rose, but she was not wanted ; it was as light as day.
Tliey were considerate enougli not to move too ra])idly through this heart of the metropolis, and even halted at some stations, where bands of music and choirs of singers welcomed and celebrated them. They moved on more quickly afterward, made their way through a pretty i^uburl), and then entered a park. At tlie termination of a loiii:,' nvonue was the illuniinod and beautiful palace of the Prince of .Mont.serrat, where ^lyra was to reside and repose until the momentous morrow, when King Florestan was publicly to i)lace on the brow of his affi- anced bride the crown which to his Joy she had consented to share.
CIIAPTEK XCY.
There arc very few temperaments that can reisist a uni- versal and unceasing festival in a vast and beautiful metropolis. It is inebriating, and the most wonderful of all its accidents is how the population can ever calm and recur to the monotony of ordinary life. When all this happens too in a capital blessed with purple skies, Avhere the mooiilight is equal to our sun- shine, and where half the population sleep in the open air and Avish for no roof but the heavens, "xistcnce is a dream of fan- tasy and perpetual loveliness, and one is at last forced to be- lieve that there is some miraculou and supernatural agency that provides the ever-enduring exci jment and ceaseless inci- dents of grace and beauty.
After the great ceremony of the morrow in the cathedral, and when Myra, kneeling at the nltar with her husband, re- ceived, under a canopy of silver brocade, the blessings of a cardinal and her people, day followed day with court balls and municipal banquets, state visits to operas, and reviews of sump- tuous troops. At length the end of all this pageantry and enthusiasm approached, and amid a blaze of fireworks, the
11
438
EN-DYMIOK
r i
it i:il
! ail
picturesque population of this fasciniiting city tried to return to ordinary feeling and to common sense.
If amid this graceful hubbub and this glittering riot any one could have found time to remark the carriage and conduct of an individual, one might have observed, and perhaps been surjjrised at, the change in those of Miss Neuchatel. That air of pensive resignation wliicli distinguished her seemed to liavo vanished. She never wore tliat doleful look for which she was too remarkable in Loudon saloons, and which marred a coun- tenance favored by nature and a form intended for gayety and grace. Perliajis it was tlie influence of the climate, perhaps the excitement of tlie scene, perhaps some rapture with the wondrous fortunes of tlie friend wliom she adored, but Adriajia seemed suddenly to sym})iithizc w^ith everybody and to appre- ciate everything ; her face was radiant, she was in every dance, and visited churches and museums, and palaces and galleries, Avitli keen delight. Witli many charms, the intimate friend of their sovereign, and liersclf known to be noble and immensely rich, Adriana became the fashion, and a crowd of princes were ever watching her smiles, and sometimes offering her their sighs.
" I think you enjoy our visit more than any one of us," said Endymion to her one day, with some feeling of surprise.
" Well, one can not mope for ever," said Miss Neuchatel ; *' I have passed my life in tliinking of one subject, and I feel now it made me very stupid."
Endymion felt embarrassed, and though generally ready, had no repartee at command. Lord Waldershare, however, came to his relief, and claimed Adriana for the impending dance.
Tliis wondrous marriage was a grand subject for " our own correspondents," and they abounded. Among them were Jaw- ett and St. Barbe. St. Barbe hated Jawett, as indeed he did all his brethren, but his appointment in this instance he denounced as an infamous job. " Merely to allow him to travel in foreign parts, which he has never done, without a single qualification for the office. However, it will ruin his paper, that is some consolation. Fancy sending here a man who has never used his pen except about those dismal statistics, and what he calls
WALDERSTIATiE FRIOnTEys ST. BARBE.
439
0 return
riot any
conduct
sips been
That air
to liavo
slio was
a coun-
yety and
perhaps
with the
Adriaiia
;o api)re-
y dance,
galleries,
'ricnd of
imensely
ices were
ler their
us," said
uchatel ; lid I feel
ad y, had , came to ce.
our own ere Jaw- le did all nounced 1 foreign lification
is some ver used
he calls
fir.-t principles ! I liate his style, so neat and frigid. No color, sir. I hate his short sentences, like a dog barking ; we want a word-painter here, sir. My description of tlio wedding sold one hundred and fifty thousand, and it is selling now. If the pro- prietors were gentlemen, they would have sent me an unlimited credit, instead of their paltry fifty pounds a day and my ex- penses ; but you never meet a liberal man now — no such aninuil known. What I want you to do for me, Lord Waldershare, is to get me invited to the Villa Aurea when the court moves there. It will be private life there, and that \- the article the British public want now. They are satiated with ceremonies and festivals. They want to know what the royal pair have for dinner when they are alone, how they pass their evenings, and whether the queen drives ponies.''
** So far as I am concerned," said Waldershare, "they shall rcxnain state secrets."
*' I have received no special favors here," rejoined St. Barbe, "though, with my claims, I might have counted on tlie utter- most. However, it is always so. I must depend on my own resources. I have a retainer, I cmu tell you, my lord, from tlie *Eigdum Funidos,' in my pocket, and it is in my power to keep up such a crackling of jokes and sarcasms that a very different view would soon be entertained in Europe of what is going on here than is now the fashion. The ' Rigdum Funidos ' is on the breakfast-table of all England, and sells thousands in every capital of the world. You do not appreciate its power ; you will now feel it."
"I also am a subscriber to the 'Rigdum Funidos,' " said Waldershare, ''and tell you frankly, Mr. St. Barbe, that if I see in its columns the slightest allusion to any person or inci- dent in this country, I will take care that you be instantly con- signed to the galleys ; and, this being a liberal government, I can do that without even the ceremony of a primary in- quiry."
"You do not mean that !" said St. Barbe ; "of course, I was only jesting. It is not likely that I should say or do any- thing disagreeable to those whom I look upon as my patrons — I may say friends — through life. It makes me almost weep
ii
440
EXDYMIoy.
■when I rcinc'iiilKT my curly comu'ctiou with Mr. Fcrnuv, now an iiiulor secretary of state, and wJio will mount higher. I never had a chance of being ii min'stei', though I suppose I am not more incapable than others av.'io get the silver spoon into their mouths. And then his divi.io sister ! Quite a heroic character ! I never luid a sister, and so I never liad even the chance of being nearly related to royalty. But so it has been throughout my life. No luck, my lord ; no luck. And then they say one is misanthropical. Hang it ! who can help being misanthropical when he finds everybody getting on in life cx- ce[it himself ?''
The court moved to their favorite summer residence, a Palhidian })alaco on a blue lake, its banks clothed with forests abounding with every species of game, and beyond them loftier mountains. The king was devoted to sport, and Endymion was always among his companions. Waldcrsharc rather at- tached himself to the ladies, who made gay parties floating in gondolas, and refreshed themselves with i^icnics in sylvan re- treats. It was supposed Lord Waldcrsharc Avas a great admirer of the Princess of Montserrat, who in return referred to him as that " lovable eccentricity." As the autumn advanced, parties of guests of high distinction, i.rcfully arranged, periodically arrived. Now, there was more ceremony, and every evening the circle was formed, while the king and queen exchanged words, and sometimes ideas, with those who were so fortunate as to be under their roof. Frequently there were dramatic performances, and sometimes a dance. The Princess of Mont- serrat was inv;:''uablo in these scenes ; vivacious, imaginative, a consummate mimic, her countenance, though not beautiful, was full of charm. What was strange, Adriana took a great fancy to her highness, and they were seldom sei)aratcd. The only cloud for Endymion in this happy life was that every day the necessity of his return to England was more urgent, and every day the days vanished more (juickly. That return to England, once counted by weeks, would soon be counted by hours. lie had conferred once or tAvice with Waldcrsharc on the subject, Avho always turned the conversation ; at last En- dymion reminded him that the time of his departure was at
i
'iuv, now
gllCT. I
o.<o I am ooji into a licroic
vcn tlie luis been ^nd tlicn ]]) being
life cx-
Icnce, u 1 forests n loftier ulymion tlier at- ating in Ivan re- admirer 3 him as , parties iodically evening clianged )rtnnato [ramatic f Mont- ;inative, autiful, a great I. Tlic cry day nt, and turn to ited by bare on ast En- ! was at
|
• 77//; |
QUEKN'S |
f\\'IfAPP/.\'/:>!< |
411 |
|
|
liatid, iVA<\ Lluit, urij |
^Mually, it h |
ad been agrecil they sliuu |
111 re- |
|
|
turn t.jgetlier. |
||||
|
"■ Y''ej", my dear |
[''crrar.-!, we |
did so |
agree, but the agreement |
|
|
wa-i pormi.-ive, not |
compulsory |
■ >ry |
views are clianged. |
Per- |
|
liai)j I -liall never r |
eturn to En |
gland |
again ; I think of |
Ix'iiig |
naturalized here.''
The ([uccn was depressed at the pro-ijiect of l)eing separated from her brother. Sometimes she remonstrated with him for his devotion to sport which deprived her of his society ; fre- quently in a morning she sent for him to her boudoir, that they might talk together as in oM times. *'The king has in- vited Lord and Lady Beaumaris to })ay us a visit, and tiiey are coming at once. I had hoped the dear Hainav.k; might have visited us here. I think she wouM have liked it. However, they will certainly pass the winter with us. It is some con- solation to mo not to lose Adriana."
" The greatest," said Endymion, " and .-he seems so nai)i)y here. She seems ([uite changed."
" I hope she is happier," said the queen, '• but I trust slio is not changed. I think her nearly perfection. So pure, even so exalted a mind, joined with so sweet a temper, I have never met. And she is very much admired 'oo, I can tell you. The Prince of Arragon Avould be on his knees to her to-morrow, if she would only give a single smile. But she smiles enough with the Princess of ^Montserrat. I heard her the other day absolutely in uncontrollable laugliter. That is a strange friend- ship ; it amuses me."
" The princess has immense resource."
The queen suddenly rose from her seat ; her countenance was disturbed.
'^ Why do we talk of her, or of any other tritler of the court, when there hangs over us so great a sorrow, Endymion, as our separation ? Endymion, my best beloved," and she threw her arms round his neck, '' my heart ! my life I Is it possible, that you can leave me, and so miserable as I am."
''Miserable!"
" Yes ! miserable when I think of your position — and even my own. Mine own has risen like a palace in a dream, and
; f
i
■#
442
ENDYMIOX.
may vanish like one. But that would not be a calamity if you were safe. If I quitted this world to-morrow, where would you be ! It gives \c.q sleepless nights and anxious days. If you really loved me as you say, you would save me this. I am haunted with the perpetual thought that all this glittering l)rosperity will vai-i.-jh as it did with our father. God forbid tluit, under any circumstances, it should lead to such an end — l)ut who knows? Fate is terribly stern ; ironically just. 0! Thulyinion, if you really love me, your twin, half of your blood and life, who have labored for you so mucli, and thought for you so much, and prayed for you so much — and yet I some- times feci have done so little. — 0! Endymiou, my adored, my own Endymion, if you wish to jirescrve my life — if you wish me not only to live, but really to be happy as I ought to be and could be, but for one dark thought, help me, aid me, save me — you can, and by one single act."
''• One single act I "
''Yes ! marry Adriana."
"Ah !" and he sighed.
"Yes, Adriana, to whom we both of us owe everything. Were it not for Adriana, you would not be here, you would be nothing," and she whispered some words which made him start, and alternately blush and look pale.
"Is it possible ?"' he exclaimed. "My sister, my beloved sister, I have tried to keep my brain cool in many trials. But I feel, as it were, as if life were too much for me. You coun- sel me to that which avc should all repeiit."
" Yes, I know it ; you may for a moment think it i sacri- fice, but believe me, that is all fantasy. I know you think your heart belongs to another. I will grant everything, wil- lingly grant everything you could say of her. Yes, I admit, she is beautiful, she has many charms, has been to you a faith- ful friend, you delight in her society ; such things have hap- pened before to many men, to every man they say they happen, but that has not prevented them from being wise, and very happy too. Your present position, if you persist in it, is one most perilous. You lune no root in the count
I try
accident you could not maintain the public position you have
EXDYMIOX'S VOYAGE HOME.
443
^y if you
ould yon If you I am
■littering (1 forbid in end — list. 01 uj- blood uglit for I some- red, my ou wish (J be and save mo
nobly gained. As for the great crowning consummation of your life, which we dreamed over at unhappy Hurstley, which I have sometimes dared to prophesy, that must be surrendered. The country at the best will look upon you only as a reputable adventurer to be endured, even trusted and supported, in some secondary post, but nothing more. I touch on this, for I see it is useless to speak of myself and my own fate and feelings ; only remember, Endymion, I have never deceived you. I can not endure any longer this state of affairs. When in a few days we part, we shall never meet again. And all the devotion of Myra will end in your destroying her."
**My own, my beloved Myra, do with me what you like. If-"
At this moment there was a gentle tap at the door, and the king entered.
'' My angel," he said, "and you too my dear Endymion. I have some news from England which I fear may distress you. Lord Montfort is dead."
•ything. 'ould be de him
beloved 3. But u coun-
i sacri- L think ig, wil- admit, I faith- v'C hajj- appen, d very is one for an u have
\ *
CHAPTER XCVI.
There was ever, when separated, an uninterrupted corre- spondence between Borengaria and Endymion. They wrote to each other every day, ,«o that when they met again there was no void in their lives and mutual experience, and each was acquainted with almost fvcry feeling and incident tliat had been proved, or had occurred, since they parted. The start- ling news, however, communicated by the king had not previ- ously reached Endymion, bf-cause he was on the eve of his re- turn to England, and his correspondents Iiad been requested to direct their future letters to his! rosidem-e in London.
His voyage home was an agitated om^, and not sanguine or inspiriting. There was a terrible uncertainty in the future. What were the feelings of Lady Montfort toward himself? Friendly, kind, affectionate, in a certain sense, even devoted, no doubt ; but all consistent with a deep and determined friendship which sought and wished for no return more ar-
n
'/in.Miix,!..,'^ J
4it
END YJJIOX
II
■I" I!
'i 1
dent. But now she wus free. Yes, Init would eIig ai^'Ju for- feit licr freedom ? And if she did, Avould it not bo to attain some great end, prol^ably tlie great end of her life ? Lady Montfort was a woman of far-reaching ambition. In a certain degree, she had married to secure her lofty aims ; and yet it was only by her singular energy, and the playfulness and high spirit of her temperament, that the sacrifice had not proved a failure ; her success, however, was limited, for the ally on Avhom she had counted rarely assisted and never sympathized with her. It was true she admired and even loved her hus- band ; her vanity, which vras not slight, was gratified by her conquest of one Avhom it had seemed no one could subdue, and who apparently placed at her feet all the power and magnifi- cence which she appreciated.
Poor Endymion, who loved her passionately, over whom she exercised the influence of a divinitv, who would do nothing without consulting her, and Avho was molded, and who wished to be molded, in all his thoughts and feelings, and acts, and conduct, by her inspiring will, was also a shrewd man of the world, and did not permit his sentiment to cloud his percep- tion of life and its doings. lie felt that Lady Montfort had fallen from a lofty position, and she was not of a temperament that would quietly brock her fate. Instead of being the mi;^- tress of castles and palaces, with ]n'incely means, and all the splendid accidents of life at her command, she was now a dow- ager Avitli a jointure ! Still young, with her charms unim- paired, heightened CA'cn by the maturity of her fascinating qualities, would she endure this ? She might retain her friend- ship for one who, as his sister ever impressed upon him, had no root in the land, and even that friendship he felt conscious must yield mucli of its entireness and intimacy to the influence of new ties ; but for tlieir lives ever being Joined together, as had sometimes been his wild dream, his cheek, though alone, burned with the consciousness of hi< folly and self-decep- tion.
"He is one of our rising statesmen," whispered the captain of the vessel to a passenger, as Endymion, silent, lonely, and absorbed, walked, as was his daily custom, the quarter-deck.
AMUSEMEXTS AT miXCEDOWX.
445
^•^.in f(n'- to attain
? Lady a certain nd yet it and liigli proved a
ally on ipathized her lius- d by lier idiio, and ma2:niri-
^r Avhom nothing
0 wished lets, and n of the 3 perccp- fort liad lerament the mis-
1 all the \y a d ow- ls nnim- cinatiiig r friend- lim, had onscious nfluence 3ther, as !i alone, i-decep-
captain cly, and cr-dcck.
*'I dare say he has a good load on his mind. Do you know, I would sooner bo a captain of a ship than a minister of state ? "
Poor Endymion ! Yes, he bore his burden, but it was not secrets of state that overwhelmed him. If his mind for a mo- ment ipiittcd the contemplation of Lady Montfort, it was only to encounter the recollection of a heartrending separation from his sister, and his strange and now pcrjilexing relations with Adriana.
Lord Moil rt had passed the summer, as he had an- nounced, at Priiicedown, and alone ; that is to say, without Lady ^lont^ort. She wrote to him frequently, and if she omitted doing so for a longer interval than usual, he would indite to her a liitle note, always courteous, sometimes almost kind, reminding her that her letters amused him, and that of late they had been rare/ than he wished. Lady Montfort her- self made ^lontfort Castle her home, paying sometimes a visit to her family in the neighborhood, and sometime'^ receiving them and other guests. Lord Montfort hi mselt' did not live in al)3oIutL' solitude. lie had society always at command. lie always had a court about him ; erpierries, and secretaries, and doctors, and odd and amusing men whom they found out for him, and who -were well pleased to find themselves in his beau- tiful, and magnificent Princedown, wandering in woods and parks and pleasaunces, «' vouring his choice enfrees, and cpiad- ing his curious wines. Sometimes he dined with them, -ome- times a few dined with him, sometimes he was not <CQn for weeks ; but whether he were visible or not, he was the subj«'ct of constant thought and conversation by all under his roof.
Lord Montfort, it may be r-membered, was a great fisher- man. It was the only sport which retained a hold upon him. The solitude, the charming sent ry, and the rerpiisite skill, combined to please him. Tlr 'i:l1 a h)ve for nature, and he
gi'atlficd it in tb's pursuit.
domain ubouudfd in those
bright chalky streams which the trout love, lie liked to wateli the moor-hens, too, and especially a kingfisher.
Lord "^lntfort came home late one day after much w.iding. It had a .i fine day for anglers, soft and not too bright, and
5 i
440
ENDYMIOK
IS
'It
it
i' t
#
ii
*i
ho had been tempted to remain long in the water. lie drove home rapidly, but it was in an open carriage, and wlien the sun set there was a cold autumnal breeze. He complained at night, and said he had been chilled. There was always a doc- tor under the roof, who felt his patient's pul>e, ordered tlie usual remedies, and encouraged him. Lord ]Montfort passed a bad night, and his physician in the morning found fever, and feared there were symptoms of pleurisy. lie prescribed accord- ingly, but summoned from town two great authorities. The great authorities did not arrive until the next day. They ai> proved of everything that had been done, but sliook their heads. '•No immediate danger, but serious."
Four-and-twenty hours afterAvard they inquired of Lord Montfort Avhether thev should ,<cnd for his Avife. " On no ac- count whatever," he replied. '' My orders on this head arc absolute." Nevertheless they did send for Lady Montfort, and as there was even then a telegraph to the north, Berengaria, who departed from lur cu.-tle instantly, and traveled all night, arrived in eight-and-fortv hours at Princedown. The state of Lord Montfort then was critical.
It was broken to xjord Montfort that his wife had arrived.
"1 perceive theu_*' he replied, " that I am going to die, be- cause I am disobe3'ed. "
These Avere the last words ho uttered. He turned in his bed as it Avere to conccJ his cr-unterance, and expired Avithout a sigh or sound.
There Avas not a single person at PrinccdoAvn in AvlK>m Lady Montfort c-'uld confide. Sh(' had :^ummoned the family solici- tor, but he could not arrive until the next day, and until he came she m.-^isted that none of her late lord's papers should be touched. She at first thought he had made a will, because otherAvise all his property would go to his cousin, Avhom he particularly luiti'il, and yet on roHoction she could hardly fancy his making a Avill. It aams a trouble to him — a dis:igreeable trouble ; and there A\'as nobody she kncAv whom he Avotild care to benefit. lie Avas not a man Avho Avould leave anything to hospitals and charities. Therefore, on the Avhole, she arrived at the conclusion he had not made a Avill, tliough all the guests
3f(
LONELINESS.
447
at Princedown were of a different opinion, and each was calcu- lating the amount of his own legacy.
At last the laAvyer arrived, and he brought the will with him. It was very short, and not very recent. Everything he had in the world except the settled estates, Montfort Castle and Montfort IIouso, he bequeathed to his wife. It was a vast inheritance ; not only Princedown, but great accumulations of personal property, for Lord Montfort was fond of amassing, and admired the sweet simi)licity of the three i)er cents.
I
CIIAPTEPt XCVII.
Whex Endymion arrived in London he found among his letters two brief notes from Lady Montfort ; one hurriedly written at Montfort Castle at the moment of her departure, and another from PrincedoAvn, with these words only, " All is over." More than a week had elapsed since the last Avas writ- ten, and he had already learned from the newspapers that the funeral had taken place. It was a painful but still necessary duty to fulfill, to write to her, which he did, but he received no answer to his letter of sympathy, and to a certain degree, of condolence. Time flew on, but he could not venture to Avrite again, and without any absolute cause for his discomfort, he felt harassed and unhappy. He had been so accustomed all his life to exist under the genial influence of women that his present days seemed lone and dark. Ilis sister and Rerengariii, two of the most gifted and charming beings in the world, had seemed to agree that their first duty had ever been to sym})a- thizo with his fortunes and to aid them. Even his correspond- ence with Myra was changed. There was a tone of constraint in their communications ; perhai)S it was the great alteration in her position that occasioned it ? His heart assured him that such was not the case. He felt deeply and acutely what was the cause. The subject most interesting to both of them could not be touched on. And then he thought of Adriana, and contrasted his dull and solitary home in Hill Street wi*^li what*
m
4-lS
EXDYMIOX.
if
itiiiigliL have been,, graced by her presence, auiinated by her devotion, and .softened by tlic sAVCctness of her temper.
Endymion began to feel tliat tlie run of his good fortune was dried. Ilis sister, when he had a trouble, would never hear of this ; she always held that the misery and calamities of their early years had exhausted the influence of their evil stars, and api)arcntly she had been right, and perhaps she would iuivc always been right had he not been perverse, and thwarted her in the most important circumstances of his life.
In this state of mind, there was nothing for him to do ]jut to plunge into business ; and affairs of state are a cure for many cares and sorrows. What are our petty annoyances and griefs when we have to guard the fortunes and the honor of a na- tion ?
The Xovember cabinets had commenced, and this brought all the chiefs to town, Sidney Wilton among them ; and his society was always a great i)leasure to Endymion ; the only social pleasure now left to liim Avas a little dinner at Mr. Wil- ton's, and little dinners there abounded. Mr. W^ilton knew all the persons that he Avas always thinking about, but whom, it might be noticed, they seemed to agree now rarely to men- tion. As for the rest, there was nobody to call upon in the delightful hours between official duties and dinner. No Lady Eochampton now, no brilliant Bercngaria, not even the gentle Imogcne with her welcome smile, lie looked in at the Coven- try Club, a club of fashion, and also much frequented by di- plomatists. There were a good many persons tlicrc, and a for- eign minister immediately buttonholed the Under-Secretary of State.
''I called at the Foreign Office to-day," said the foreign minister. "I assure you it is very pressing."
''I had the American with me," said Endymion, ''and he is lengthy. However, as to your business, I think we might talk it over here, and perhaps settle it." And so they left the room together.
''I wonder what is going to happen to that gentleman," said Mr. Ormsby, glancing at Endymion, and speaking to Mr. Cass ilis.
A WELCOME LETTER.
449
>
ted by licr
or.
)d fortune
uld never lamities of
evil stars, vould ]i:ivc v'arted lior
to do but 3 for many and griefs r of a na-
s brought: ; and liis ; the only ; .Air. Wil- ton knew iut Avhom, y to mcn- on in the No Lady the gentle ho Coven- ed by di- Eind a for- Secretary
c foreign
^'and he ive might y left the
itlcman," ig to ]\Ir.
** Wliy ?" .eplied Mr. Cassilis, " is anything up ? "
" Will he marry Lady ^lontfort ? "
'' Poll ! " said Mr. Cassilis.
''You may poll! "said Mr. Ormsby, "but he was a great favorite."
" Lady Montfort will never marry. She had always a poo- dle, and always will have. She was never so Jiec with Ferrars as with the Count of Fcrroll, and half a dozen others. She must have a slave."
"A very good mistress with thirty thousand a year."
" She has not that," said Mr. Cassilis, doubtingly.
" What do you put Princedown at ? " said Mr. Ormsjjy.
" That I can tell you to a T," replied Mr. Cassilis, '' "for it Avas offered to me when old Rambrook died. You will never get twelve thousand a year out of it."
"Well, I will answer for half a million Consols," said Ormsby, "for my lawyer, Avhen he made a little investment for me the other day, saw the entry himself in the bank-books ; our names are very near, you know — M, and O. Then there is her jointure, something like ten thousand a year."
"No, no ; not seven."
" Well, that would do."
"And what is the amount of your little investment in Con- sols altogether, Ormsby ? "
" Well, I believe I top Montfort," said Mr. Ormsby with a complacent smile, "but then you know, I am not a s\vell like yon ; I have no land."
"Lady Montfort, thirty thousand a year," said Mr. Cassi- lis, musingly. "She is only thirty. She is a woman who will set the Thames on fire, but she will never marry. Do you dine to-day, by any chance, with Sidney Wilton ?"
Wlien Endymion returned home this evening he found a letter from Lady Montfort. It was a month since he had writ- ten to her. He was so nervous that he absolutely for a mo- ment could not break the seal, and the palpitation of his heart was almost overpowering.
Lady Montfort thanked him for his kind letter, which she ought to have acknowledged before, but she had been very
i:l
1
H
i
^11
§'■■
m
'ft-
450
ENDYMFON.
busy — indeed, (|uitc overwlielmed witli affairs. 81io wished to see him, but was sorry slie could not ask him down to Prince- down, as she was living in complete retirement, only her aunt with her. Lady Gertrude, whom, she believed, he knew. lie was aware probably how good Lord Montfort had been to her. Sincerely she could say, nothing could have been more unex- pected. If she could have seen her husband before the fatal moment, it would have been a consolation to her. He liad always been kind to ^ndymion ; she really believed sometimes that Lord Montfort was even a little attached to him. She should like Endvmion to have some souvenir of her late hus- band. Would he choose something, or would he leave it to her ?
One would rather agree, from the tone of this letter, that Mr. Cassilis knew what he was talking about. It fell rather cold on Endymion's heart, and he passed a night of some dis- quietude ; not one of those nights, exactly, when wc feel that the end of the Avorld has at lengHi arrived, and that we are the first victim, but a night when you slumber rather than sleep, and wake with the consciousness of some indefinable chagrin !
This was a dull Christmas for Endymion Ferrars. He passed it, as he had passed others, at Gay dene, but what a con- trast to the old assemblies there. Every source of excitement that could make existence absolutely fascinating seemed then to unite in his haj^py fate. Entrancing love and the very romancp of domestic affection, and friendships of honor and happiness, and all the charms of an accomplished society, and the feeling of a noble future, and the present and urgent inter- est in national affairs — all gone, except some ambition which might tend to consequences not more successful than those that had ultimately visited his house with irreparable calamity.
The meeting of Parliament was a great relief to Endymion. Besides his office he had noAV the House of Commons to occupy him. He was never absent from his place ; no little runnings up to Montfort House or Hill Street Just to tell them the au- thentic news, or snatch a hasty repast with furtive delight, with persons still more delightful, and flattering one's self all the time that, so far as absence was concerned, the fleetness of one's
m GROSVEXOR SQUARE.
451
wished to bo Princc- ' her iiunt new. lie en to lier. ore iinex- the fatal He had ometimcs im. She hite li US- save it to
ttor, that 3II rather some dis- feel tliat ■■e are the an sleeji, hagrin ! ars. He at a con- citement led tlien the very )nor and iety, and nt inter- )n which m those ialamity. dymion. 0 occupy 'unnings L the au- ht, with f all the of one's
gifted brougham horse really made it no difference between Mayfair and Bellamy's.
End} mion had replied, but not very quickly, to Lady Mont- fort's letter, and he had heard from her again, but her letter requiring no reply, the correspondence had dropped. It was the beginning of March when she wrote to him to say, that she was obliged to come to town to see her lawyer and transact some business; that she would be ''at papa's in Grosvcnor Square," though the house was shut u]), on a certain day, lliat she much wished to see Endymion, and begged him to call on her.
It was a trying moment when about noon lie lifted the knocker in Grosvenc • Square. The door was not o^jcned rap- idly, and the delay made him more nervous. He almost wished the door would never open. He was shown into a small back room on the ground floor in which was a bookcase, and which chamber in the language of Grosvenor Square is called a library.
"Her ladyship will see you presently," said the servant, who had come up from Princedown.
Endymion was standing before the fire, and as nervous as a man could well be. He sighed, and he sighed more than once. His breathing was oppressed ; he felt that life was too short to permit us to experience such scenes and situations. He hoard the lock of the door move, and it required all his manliness to endure it.
She entered ; she was in weeds, but they became her ad- mirably ; her countenance was grave and apparently with an effort to command it. She did not move hurriedly, but held out both her hands to Endymion and retained his, and all with- out speaking. Her lips then seemed to move, when, rather suddenly, Avithdrawing her right hand, and placing it on his shoulder, and burying her face in her arm, she wept.
He led her soothingly to a seat, and took a chair by her side. Not a word had yet been spoken by either of them ; only a murmur of sympathy on the part of Endymion. Lady Montfort spoke first.
" I am weaker than I thought, but it is a great trial." And
, I
452
END YMIOX.
\\
'm
tlicn slic said liow sorry slie wa?, tliat slic could not receive him at Princedowu ; but s1;g tliouglit it best tluit ho shoukl not j,^o there, " I have a great deal of business to transact — you would not believe how much. I do not dislike it, it occupies me, it employs my mind. I have led so active a life, that solitude is rather too much for me. Among other business, I must buy a town house, and that is the most difficult of affairs. There never was so great a city with such small houses. I shall feel the loss of Montfort House, though I never used it half so much an I wished. I want a mansion ; I should think you could help me in this. "When I return to society, I mean to receive. There must be therefore good reception rooms : if possible, more th;iu good. And now let us talk about our friends. Tell me all about your royal sister, and this ncAV marriage ; it rather sur- prised me, but I think it exccllf^nt. Ah, you can keep a se- cret, but you see it is no use 1, .ing a secret with me. Even in solitude everything reaches me."
" I assure you most seriousl}', that I can annex no meaning to what you are saying."
*'Then I can hardly think it true ; and yet it came from high authority, and it was not lold to me as u real secret."
" A marri:i2:e, and whose ? "
" Miss Neuchaters — Adriana."
**And to whom ?*' inquired Endymion, changing color.
''To Lord Waldershare."
"ToLord Waldersharel"
*"' And has not 3'our sister mentioned it to you ?"
"Not a Avord ; it can not be true."
*'I will give to you my authority," said Lady Montlurt. *' Though I came hero in the twilight in a hired brougham, and with a veil, I was caught before I could enter the house by, of all people in the world, Mrs. Rodney. And she told mo this in what she called ' real confidence,' and it was an- nounced to her in a letter from her sister, Lady Beaumaris. They seem all delighted with the match."
H'i
EXD ) WHO .V .>^ FA SCLW 1 7/ OX.
ioS'
^ccivo liini uld not '^o yuii would lies mc, it !oli tilde is iiist buy a •s. There illfccl the 0 much a.i Id Jicli^mc e. TJiciv !iioro tliau V'll me all athcr sur- kee]) a se- le. Even
) meanniir
ame from
crct."
color.
MoutlVn-t. raiigham, tlie housG s told me was an- ?aumaris.
ciiAPTEij xcvin.
This marriage of A'riana was not an event calciil;(ted to calm the uneasy and dissatisfied temperament of Endymion. The past rendered it impossible that this announcement should not in some degree affect him. Then the silence of his sister on such a subject was too significant ; the silence even of "Wal- dershare. Somehow or other, it seemed that all these onco dear and devoted friends stood in different relations to him and to each other from what they once filled. ^I'hey had ])e- comc more near and intimate together, but he seemed without the pale ; he, that Endymion, who once seemed the prime ob- ject, if not the center, of all their thoughts and sentiment. And why was this ? What was the inlluenco that had swayed him to a line contrary to what was once their hopes and affec- tions ? Had he an evil genius ? And was it she ? Horrible thought !
The interview with Lady Montfort had been deeply inter- esting— had for a moment restored him to himself. Had it not been for this news, he might have returned home, soothed, gratified, even again indulging in dreams. But this news had made him ponder ; had made him feel what he had lost, and forced him to ask himself Avhat he had gained.
There was one thing he had gained, and that was the privi- lege of calling on Lady Montfort the next day. That was a fact that sometimes dissipated all the shadows. Under the immediate influence of her i)resence, he became spellbound as of vore, and in the intoxication of her beaut v, the brightness
*/ ■" «, ' CD
of her mind, and her ineffable attraction, he felt he would bo content with any lot, provided he might retain her kind thoughts and pass much of his life in her society.
She was only staying three or four days in town, and was much engaged in the mornings ; but Endymion called on her every afternoon, and sat talking witli her till dinner-time, and they both dined very late. As he really on personal and do- mestic affairs never could have any reserve with her, he told her, in that complete confidence in which they always indulged,.
|
! - |
|
'i |
m
II
r|
454
ENDYMIOK
o
f the him about
was
extraordinary revelation wliich liis sister had made to the parliamentary qualitlcation. Lac ntcrcsted in this : she was even agitated, and
deeply
Montfort looked
Things can not
very grave.
"I am sorry," she said, **Tve know this, remain now as they are. You can not return the money, that would be churlish ; besides, you can not return all the advan- tages which it gained for you, and they must certainly be con- sidered part of the gift, and the most precious ; and then, too, it would betray what your sister rightly called a 'sacred con- fidence.' And yet something must be done — you must let me think. Do not mention it again." And then they talked a little of public affairs. Lady Montfort saw no one, and heard from no one now ; but judging from the journals, she thought the position of the government feeble. ''There can not be a Protectionist government," she said, "and yet that is the only parliamentary party of importance. Things will go on till some blow, and perhaps a slight one, will upset you all. And then who is to succeed ? I think some queer melange got up perhaps by Mr. Bertie Tremaine."
The last day came. She parted from Endymion with kind- ness, but not with tenderness. lie was choking with emotion, and tried to imitate her calmness.
" Am I to write to you ? " he asked in a faltering voice.
"Of course you arc," she said, "every day, and tell me all the news."
The Hainaults, and the Beaumaris, and Waldershare, did not return to England until some time after Easter. The mar- riage was to take place in June — Endymion was to be Walder- sfc are's best man. There were many festivities, and ho was looked upon as an indispensable guest in all. Adriana received his congratulations with animation, but with affection. She thanked him for a bracelet which he had presented to her ; "I value it more," she said, " than all my other presents together, except what dear Waldershare has given to me." Even with that exception, the estimate was high, for never a bride in any land ever received the number of splendid offerings which crowded the tables of Lord Ilainault's new palace, which he
LADY MONTFOnrS NEW HOUSE.
voo
made to Montfort id looked
s can not ney, that 10 advan- y bo con- lien, too, ired con- st let mo talked a nd heard thought not bo a the only ► on till 11. And
'G got up
th kind- 3motion,
^oice. 1 me all
are, did he mar- Walder-
he was feceived ti. She er; "I )gether, en with s in any
which lich he
liad just built in Park Lane. There was not a Xeuehatel in existence, and tlicy flourished in every community, wlio did not send her, at least, a riviere of brilliants. King Florestan atid his queen sent olTcrings worthy of their resplendent throne and their invaluable friendship. But nothing surpassed, no- thing approached, the contents of a casket, which, a day be- fore the wedding, arrived at Ilainault house. It came from a foreign land, and Waldershare superintended the opening of the case, and the appearance of a casket of crimson velvel, with genuine excitement. But when it was opened ! There was a coronet of brilliants ; a necklace of brilliants and emeralds, and one of sapphires and brilliants; and dazzling bracelets, and all the stones more than precious ; gems of CJolconda no longer obtainable, and lustrous companions which only could have been created in the hot earth of Asia. From whom ? Not a glimpse of meaning. All that was written, in a foreign handwriting on a sheet of notc-pM})er, wtis, *' For the T-ady Vis- countess Waldershare. "
*' When the revolution comes,'' said Lord Ilainault, *• Lord "Waldershare and my daughter must turn jewelers. Their stock in trade is ready."
The correspondence between Lady Montfort and Endymicn had resumed its ancient habit. They Avrote to each otlier every day, and one day she told him that she had purchased a house, and that she must come up to town to examine and furnish it. She probably should be a month in London, and remaining there until the end of the season, in whose amuse- ments and business, of course, she could not share. She should " be at papa's," though he and his family were in town ; but that was no reason why Endymion should not call on hor. And he came, and called every day. Lady Montfort was full of her new house ; it was in Carlton Gardens, the house she always wished, always intended to have. There is nothing like will ; everybody can do exactly what they like in this world, provided they really like it. Sometimes they think they do, but in general, it is a mistake. Lady Montfort, it seemed, was a woman who always could do what she liked. She could do what she liked with Endymion FerraxS ; that was
I
l^li
i
M
i
?i r '
456
EXDYMIOX.
quite certain. Supposed by men to have a ^strong Avill and a calm Judi^ment, he was a nose of wax witli tliis woman. lie was fascinated by her, and he had been fascinated now for nearly ten years. What would be the result of this irresistible iniluence upon him ? Would it make or m;ir those fortunes that once seemed so promising ? The ])hilosophers of White's and the Coventry Avere generally of opinion that he had no chance.
Lady Montfort was busy every morning with her new house, but she never asked Endymion to accompany her, though it seemed natural to do so. But he saw her every day, and *'papa," who was a most kind and courtly gentleman, would often ask him, ''if he had nothing better to do," to dine there, and he dined there frecpiently ; and if he were engaged, he was always of opinion that he had nothing better to do.
At last, however, the sea.ion was over ; the world had gone to Goodwood, and Lady Monttort was about to depart to Princedown. It was a dreary prospect for Endymion, and ho could not conceal his feelings. He could not he^p saying one dav, " Do you know, now that you are going I almost wish to die."
Alas ! she only laughed. But he looked grave. " I am ve:'> unhappy," he sighed rather than uttered.
She looked at him with seriousness. " I do not think our separation need bo very long, Papa and all my family are coming to me in September to pay me a very long visit. I really do not see why you should not come too."
Endymion's countenance mantled with rapture. " If I might come, I think I should be the happiest of men ! "
The month that was to elapse before his visit, Endymion was reall}^ as he said, the happiest of men ; at least, the world thought him so. He seemed to walk upon tiptoe. Parlia- ment was prorogued, office was consigned to permanent secre- taries, and our youthful statesman seemed only to live to enjov, and add to, the revelry of existence. Now at Cowes, now stalking in the highlands, dincing at balls in the wilderness, and running races of fantastic feats, full of health, and frolic, and charm ; he was the delight of society, while, the whole
A DAY IX LOXDOX.
457
ill and a lan. lie
now for •resistible
fortunes e White's i had no
}W liousc, hough it lav, and n, would ne there, laged, he
Iiad gone epart to , and he ving one t wish to
''I am
liink our mily are visit. I
((
If I
idvmion le world Parlia- ;it secre- 0 enjoy, es, now dorncss, d frolic, whole
time, he had only one thought, and that was the sacred day when ho should again see the being whom he adored, and that in her beautiful home, which her presence made more lovely.
Yes ! he was again at Princedown, in the bosom of i;er family ; none others there ; treated like one of themselves. The courtly father pressed his hand ; the amiable and refined mother smiled upon him ; the daughters, pretty, and natural as the air, treated him as if they were sisters, and even the eldest son, who generally hates you, after a little stiffness, an- nounced in a tone never questioned under the family roof, that '" Ferrars was a first-rate shot."
And so a month rolled on ; immensely ha])py, as any man who has loved, and loved in a beautiful scene, alone can under- stand. One morning Lady Montfort said to him, " I must go up to London about my house. I want to go and return tho same day. Do you know, I think you had better come with me ? You shall give me a luncheon in Hill Street, and we shall be back by the last train. It will be late, but we shall wake in the morning in the country, and that I always think a great thing."
And so it happened ; they rose early and arrived in town in time to give them a tolerably long morning. She took him to her house in Carlton Gardens, and showed to him exactly how it Avas all she wanted ; accommodation for a first-rate establishment ; and then the reception rooms, few houses in London could compare with them ; a gallery and three saloons. Then they descended to the dining-room. " It is a dining- room, not a banqueting hall," she said, " which we had at Montfort House, but still it is much larger than most dining- rooms in London. But, 1 think this room, at least I hope you do, quite charming," and she took him. to a room almost as large as the dining-room, and looking into the garden. It was fitted up with exquisite taste ; calm subdued coloring, with choice marble busts of statesmen, ancient and of our times, but the shelves were empty.
** They are empty," she said, ''but the volumes to fill them are ti. ready collected. Yes," she added in a tremulous voice, and slightly pressing the arm on which she leant. **If yon 20
458
EXDYMION.
will deign to accept it, this is the chamber I have prepared for you."
" Dearest of women ! " and he took her hand.
''Yes," she murmured, "help me to realize the dream of my life ; " and she touched his forehead with her lijjs.
CHAPTER XCIX.
li '•
I
The marriage of Mr. Fcrrars with Lady Montfort surprised some, but, on the whole, pleased everybody. They were both of them popular, and no one seemed to envy them their happi- ness and prosperity. The union took place at a season of the year wher. there was no London world to observe and to criti- cise. It was a quiet ceremony ; they -went down to Northum- berland to Lady Montfort's father, and they were married in his private chapel. After that they went off immediately to pay a visit to King Florestan and his queen ; Myra had sent her a loving letter.
'' Perhaps it will be the first time that your sister ever saw me A^ itli satisfaction," re;narked Lady Montfort, '' but I think she will love me now ! I always loved her ; perhaps because she is so like you."
It was a happy meeting and a delightful visit. They did not talk much of the past. The enormous change in the posi- tion of their host and hostess since the first days of their ac- fjuaintance, and, on their own part, some indefinite feeling of delicate reserve, combined to make them rather dwell on a present which w'as full of novelty so attractive and so absorb- ing. In his manner, the king Avas unchanged ; he was never a demonstrative person, but simple, unaffected, rather silent, with a sweet temper and a tender manner, he seemed to be gratified that he had the poAvcr of conferring happiness on those around him. His feeling to his queen was one of idola- try, and she received Berengaria as a sister and a much loA'ed one. Their presence and the season of the year made their
A PAPAL BULL.
459
pared for
dream of
surprised tvcre both 3ir happi- on of the :1 to eriti- S^orthum- larried in diately to liad sent
• ever saw it I think )s because
They did
the posi-
their ac-
feeling of
svell on a
;o absorb-
^vas never
ler silent,
led to be
piness on
of idohi-
uch loved
lade their
life a festival, and when they parted, there were entreaties and promises that the visit should be often repeated.
''Adieu! ray Endymion," said Myra at the last moment they were alone. "All has happened for you beyond my hopes ; all now is safe. I might wish we \vere in the same land, but not if I lost my husband, whom I adore."
The reason that forced tliem to curtail their royal visit was the state of politics at home, Avhich had suddenly become criti- cal. There were symptoms, and considerable ones, of disturlj- ance and danger when they departed for their wedding tcnir, but they could not prevail on themselves to sacrifice a visit on Avhich they had counted so much, and which could not be fulfilled on another occasion under tlie same interesting cir- cumstances. Besides, the position of Mr. Ferrars, thougli an important, was a subordinate one, and though cabinet minis- ters were not justified in leaving the country, an under secre- tary of state and a bridegroom miglit, it would seem, depart on his irresponsible holiday. Mr. Sidney Wilton, however, shook his head; "I do not like tlic state of affairs," he said. "I think you will have to come back sooner than you imagine."
" You are not going to be so foolish as to have an early session ?" inquired Lady Montfort.
He only shrugged his shoulders, and said, " We are in a mess."
What mess ? and Avhat w^as the state of affairs ?
This had happened. At the end of the autumn, his lioli- ncss the pope had made half a dozen new cardinals, and to the surprise of the world, and the murmurs of the Italians, there appeared among them the name of an Englishman, Nigel Pen- ruddock, archbishop in partihus. tShortly after tliis, a papal bull "given at St. Peter's, Pome, under the seal of the fislioi-- man," was issued, establishing a Pomish hierarchy in England. This was soon followed by a pastoral letter by the new cardinal "given out of the Appian Gate," announcing that "Catholic England had been restored to its orbit in the ecclesiastical firmament."
The country at first was more stupefied than alarmed. It was conscious that somethinc; extraordi
W
1-7
appei
4G0
ESDYMIOX.
some great action taken by an ecclc>siastical power, which from tradition it Avas ever inclined to view with susi)icion and some fear. But it held its breatli for a wliile. It so happened tliat the prime minister was a member of a great house Avhich liad bec(nnc ilhistrious by its profession of Protestant principles, and even by its sniferings in a cause which England had once looked on as sacred. The prime minister, a man of distin- guislied ability, not devoid even of genius, was also a wily jioli- tician, and of almost unrivaled experience in the management of political parties. The ministry was weak md nearly worn out, and its chief, iniluenced partly by nol and historical sentiments, partly by a conviction that he hf a fine occasion to rally the confidence of the country round himself and his friends, and to restore the repute of his political connection, thought fit, without consulting his colleagues, to publish a manifesto denouncing the aggression oi the pope upon our Protestantism as insolent and insidious, and as expressing a pretension of supremacy over the realm of England wh">b made the minister indignant.
A confuted public wanted to be led, and now they were led. They sprang to their feet like an armed man. The corporation of London, the universities of Oxford and Cambridge had audiences of the Queen; the counties met, the municipalities menu)rialized ; before the first of January there had been held nearly seven thousand public meetings, asserting the supremacy of the Queen, and calling on Iler Majesty's Government to vin- dicate it by stringent measures.
Unfortunately, it was soon discovered by the minister that there had l)een nothing illegal in the conduct of the pope or the cardinal, and a considerable portion of the Liberal party began to express the inconvenient opinion, that the manifesto of tlieir chief was opposed to those principles of civil and reli- gious liberty of which he was the hereditary champion. Some influential members of his own cabinet did not conceal their disa))|)robation of a step on Avhich they had not been r^onsulted.
Tmmcdiately after Christmas, Endvmionand Lndy Al^nrcforl: settled in London. She was anxious to open her n. m mansion as soon as Parliament met, and to organ! -c continib'i's r i cp-
A cnisis.
A' A
I'll from lcI some led tliat icli luid nciples, ad once ' distin- ily poli- igcment •ly worn istoriciil occasion and his nection, ublisli a pon our ■essing a oil made
vcre led. poration ige had
ipalities ecn held premacy
t to vin-
ibtcr that pope or
al party anifesto lud reli- Some al their rmnltcd.
niau?iou s iM op-
tions. Slie looked upon the ministry a> in a critical state, and thought it was an occasion when social influences miuiit not inconsiderably assist them
But though she exhibited for t]iis object her wonted energy and high spirit, a fine observer — Mr. Sidney Wilton for exam- ])le — might have detected a change in the manner of Berenga- ria. Tliough the strength of her character was unaltered, there was an absence of that restlessness, it might be said, that some- what feverish excitement, from Avhich formerly she was not al- Avays free. The truth is her heart was satisiied, and that brought repose. Feelings of affection, long mortitied and pont up, were now lavished and concentrated on a husband of her heart and adoration, and she was proud that his success and greatness might be avowed as the objects of her life.
The campaign, however, for wliich such i)reparations were made, ended almost before it l^eg-m. The ministry, on ■.'m meeting of Parliament, found themselves with a discontented House of ComiUions, and discordant counsels among themselves. The anti-papal manifesto was the secret cause of this evil state, but the prime minister, to avoid sucli a mortifying admission, took advantage of two unfavorable divisions on other matters, iind resigned.
Here was a crisis — another crisis I Could the untried Pi-o- tectionists without men form an administration ? It was whis- l)ered that Lord Derby had been sent for aiul declined the at- tempt. Then 'here was another rumor that he was going to try. Mr. Bertie Tremaine looked mysterious. The time for the third party had clearly arrived. It was known that he had the list of the next ministry in his l)reast-;^.'Cket, but it was only shown to ]\[r. Tremaine Bertie, who confided in secrecy to the initiated that it was the strongest government since '•' All the Talents.'^
Notwithstanding this great opi^ortunity, ''All the Talents'' wc'e not summoned. The leader of the Protectionists re- nounced the attempt in despair, and the auth.or of the anti-]ia])al manifesto Avas again sent for, a'' obliged to introduce the measure which had already destroyed a government and disor- ;ganized a party.
4G2
EXDYMIOX.
i
m
I
''Sidney Wilton," .suid Lady !Montfort to her husband, "eay.s that they arc in the mud, and he for one will not go back — but he will go. I know him. He is too soft-hearted to stand an appeal from colleagues in distress. But Avere I you, Endymion, I would not return. I think you want a little rest, or you have got a great deal of private business to attend to, or something of that kind. Nobody notices the withdrawal of an under secretary except those in office. There is no neces- sity why you should be in the mud. I will continue to receive, and do everything that is possible for our friends, but I think my husband has been an under secretary long enough."
Endymion (|uite agreed with his wife. The minister of- fered him preferment and the Privy Council, but Lady Mont- fort said it was really not so imj)ortant as the office he had resigned. She was re.-olvcd that he should not return to them, and she had her way. Ferrars himself now occupied a rather peculiar position, being the master of a great fortune and of an establishment which was the headquarters of the party of which he was now only a private member ; but calm and col- lected he did not lose his head ; always said and did the right thing, and never forgot his early acquaintances. Trenehard Avas his bosom political friend. Seymour Ilicks, who through Endymion's kindness had now got into the Treasury, and was quite fashionable, had the run of the House, and made himself marvelously useful, while St. Barbe, who had become by mis- take a member of the Conservative club, drank his frequent claret cup every Saturday evening at Lady Montfort's recep- tions with many i)ledges to the welfare of the Liberal adminis- tration.
The flag of the Tory jiarty waved over the magniiiccnt mansion of Avhicli Lnogenc Beaumaris was the graceful life. As parties were nearly equal, and the ministry was sujiposed to be in decay, the rival reception was as well attended as that of Berengaria. The tAVO great leaders were friends, intimate, but not perhaps quite so intiniati' as a few years before. " Lady Montfort is very kind to me," Imogeuo would say, "but I do not think she now (juite remembers avc arc cousins." Both Lord and Lady Waldersharc si'.'mcd equally devoted to r^ady
IIAPPIXESS.
4G3
Beaumaris. '•'! do not think/' he would say, '• tliat I shall ever get Adriana to receive. It is an organic gift, and very rare. What I mean to do is to have a first-rate villa and give the party straAvberrics. I always say Adriana is like Nell Gwyn, and she shall go about with a jiottle. One never sees a pottle of strawberries now. I believe they went out, like all good things, with the Stuarts."
And so, after all these considerable events, the season rolled on and closed tranquilly. Lord and Lady Hainault continued to give banquets, over Avhicli the hostess sighed ; Sir Peter Vigo had the wisdom to retain his millions, which few manage to do, as it is admitted that it is easier to make a fortune than to keep one. Mrs. Kodney, supremely habited, still drove her ponies, looking younger and prettier ilian ever, and getting more fashionable every day, and Mr. Ferrars and Berengaria, Countess of Montfort, retired in the summer to their beautiful and beloved Princedown.
i
CUAl'TEPt V.
Altiiougii the jmst life of Endymion had, on the whole, been a ha]ipy life, and although he Avas destined also to a hap- py future, perhaps the four years Avhieh elapsed from the time he quitted office, certainly in his experience had never been exceeded, and it Avas difficult to imagine could be exceeded, in felicity. He had a great interest, and c\'en groAA'ing influence in public life AAnthout any of its cares ; he Avas united to a aa'O- n\an Avhom he had long passionately loA'ed, and Avho had cA'cry quality and accomplishment to make existence delightful ; ho was master of a fortune AA'hich secured him all those advan- tages Avhich are appreciated by men of taste and generosity. lie liecame a father, and a family name Avhicli had been origin- ally borne by a courtier of the elder Stuarts Avas noAV bestowed on the future lord of PrinccdoAvn.
Lady Montfort herself had no thought but her husband. Ilis happiness, his enjoyment of existence, his success and
i
4('4
EXDYMIOX.
power in life, entirely absorbed licr. Tlic anxiety which slio felt that in everything he shonld be muster was toucliing. Once looked upon as the most imperious of women, she would not give a direction on any matter without his opinion and .sanction. One would have su})poscd from what might be ob- served under their roof, that she was some beautiful hut por- tionless maiden Avhom Endvmion had raised to wealtli and jiower.
All this time, however. Lady Montfort sedulously main- tained that commanding position in social politics for which she was singularly fitted. Indeed, in that respect, she had no rival. She received the world with the same constancy and sjilendor, as if she were the wife of a minister. Animtited by "VValdershare, Lady Beaumaris maintained in this respect a cer- tain degree of rivalry. She was the only hope and refuge of the Tories, and rich, attractive, and popular, her competition could not be disregarded. V>\\i Lord Beaumaris was a little freakish. Sometimes he would sail in his yacht to odd places, and Avas at Algiers or in Egy]it when, according to Tadpole, he ought to have been at Piccadilly Ternicc. Then ho occasion- ally got crusty about his hunliiig. He would hunt Avhatever \;qyq the political consecpUMM'es, but Avhelher he were in Afiica or Leicestershire, Lnogcne must be with him. lie could not exist with(UTt her constant presence. There was something in lu>r gentleness, combined with her quick and ready sympathy iind playfulness of mind and manner, which alike i)leased and soothed liis life.
Till* Whigs tottered on for a year after the rude assault of C^ii'diiial I'eiiruddock, but they were doomed, and the Protec- lionists were called upon to form an administration. As they had no one in (lu'ir lilljks who had ever been in office exceitt Ihi il'i'lilef, uhe was lU (lie ||o||Hii nf hitt'ils, I he affair seemed impoHMlble. The nttpt11|l|, ||l1Wt'V0t'i MM Hot be avoided. A dozen men, Avitholll iheBllglilestexjjerienceof ofWcial life, had to be sworn in as privy councilors, before even they could receive the seals and insignia of their intended offices. On their knees, according to the constitutional custom, a dozen men, all in the act of genuflection at the same moment, and headed, too, l)y
MR. LKUTIE TUEMMXE-^ KIEV AT I OX.
465
hicli she oucliing. lie would lion and it be ob- l)iit por- tiltli and
ly niain- or wliieli 3 had no mcy and natcd by ;ct a ccr- efiige of
I petition i a little :1 places, Ipolc, lie )ccasion- vliatover n Africa )ukl not \\\v.^ \\\ ■mpatliv iscd and
sault of Protcc- A.S they
D except seemed
led. A
}, had to receive
r knees,
II in the too, i)y
one of the most powerful peers ii: the country, the Lord of Alnwick Castle himself, humbled themselves before a female Sovereign, who looked serene and imperturbable before a spec- tacle never seen before, and wliieh, in all i)robal)ility, will never be seen again.
One of this band, a gentlenian without any official exin'ri- cnce whatever, Avas not only i»laced in the cabinet, but wa.s absolutely required to become the leadtr of the House of Com- mons, which had never occurred before. exeo)»l in the iuHtaiieu of Mr. Pitt in lTh2. It has \\\\'\\ Miiid that it was unwise in the Protectionists a>'^uuHni'' office when, on this occasion and on subsequent ones, ^hey were far from bcini;' certain of a ma- jority in the House of Conimon«. It should, hoAvever, bo reniLinbered, that unless they luul dared these ventures, they never could have formed a bodv of men competent from their official experience and their practice in debate, to form a min- istry. The result Las rather proved that they were i-ight. Had they continued 'o refrain from incurring responsibility, they must have broken up and merged in ditferent connections, which for a party numerically so strong as the Protectionists, would have been a sorry business, and probaldy have led to disastrous results.
j\rr. Bertie Tremaine having been requested to call on the Protectionist prime minister, accordingly impaired to head- quarters with the list of his colleagues in his pocket. He wa.s offered for himself a post of little real importance, but whicli secured to him the dignity of the privy council. Mr. Ti'e- maine Bertie and several of his friends had assembled at his house, aAvaiting with anxiety his return. He had to conimiiiii- cate to them that he had been offered a privy councilor's po-t. and to break to them that it was not proposed to ]u'ovide for any other member of his party. Their indignation was tx- trenie ; but they naturally supposed that he had rejected the offer to himself with becoming scorn. Their leader, however, informed them tiiat he had not fVlt it his duty to be so i)er- emptory. They should rememlicr that the recognition of their political status by such an offer to their chief was a consider- able event. For his part, he had for some time been i)ainfully
400
EXUVMIOy.
inviiro that tlic inllucncc of the lluiiso of Commons in tlio con- stitution;,. >;chem(3 was fast waiiini^', and that the pUm of Sir William Tomi)le for the reorganization of the privy council, :muI depositing in it tlie real authority of th^ >Statc, wa.s that to whicli we i^houkl bo obh'ged to have recour.->e. This oll'er to liini of a scat in the council was, perhaps, the beginning of the cud. It Avas a crisis; they must look to seats in the privy couiieil, which, under Sir William Temide's plan, would bo aeiompanied with ministerial duties and salaries. What they ]i;id all, at one time, wished, had not exactly been accom})lished, but lie had felt it his duty to his friends not to shrink from responsibility. So he had accepted the ministers offer.
.Mr. liertie Treniaine was not long in the busy enjoyment of his easy post. Then the country Avas governed for two years liy all its ablest men, who, by the end of that term luid suc- ceeded, by their coalesced genius, in reducing that country to a state of desolation and des])air. "I did not think it Avould have lasted even so long," said Lady Montfort ; **but then I was ac(juainted Avith their mutual hatreds and their charac- teristic weaknesses. "What is to liai)pen noAV ? Somebody must be found of commanding private character and position, and Avith as little damaged a iniblic one, as in this Avreck of reputations is possible. I sec nobody but Sidney Wilton. Everybody likes him, and he is the only man Avho could bring poople together."
And CA'crybody seemed to be saying the same thing at the same time. The name of Sidney AVilton Avas in CA'crybody's month. It Avas nnfortunate that he had been a member of the defunct ministry, but then it had ahv^ays been understood that he had ahvays disapi)roA'ed of all their measures. There aaiis not the slightest evidence of this, but CA'crybody chose to belicA'c it.
Sidney Wilton Avas chagrined Avith life and had become a martyr to the gout, which that chagrin had aggraA'uted ; but he Avas a great gentleman, and too chiA'alric to refuse a royal command Avlien the SoA'creign was in distress. Sidney Wilton became Premier, and the first colleague he recommended to fill the most important post after his OAvn, the Secretaryship of State for Foreign Affairs, Avas Mr. Fernirs.
A sTiiOxa r;ovj:i:.\M/:.\7\
407
"It ouglit to last toil years," said Lady MonU'ort. " I soo no danger except his liealth. I never knew a man so changed. At liis time of life five years ought to make no dilTerencc in a man. I can not believe he is the person who used to give us those charming parties at Gaydcnc. Whatever you may say, Endymion, I feel convinced that something must h:i ^ pasiscd between your sister and him. Xeitlier of them ever gave me a hint of such a matter, or of the possibilit . oi its ever happcn- ing, but feminine instinct assures me that somethin'/ look place, lie always had the gout, and his ancestors have had the gout for a cou})le of centuries ; and all prime jninistcrs have the gout. I dare say you will not escape, darling, but I hojie it will never make you look as if you had just lost par ulise, or, what would bo worse, become the last man."'
Lady Montfort Avas right. The ministry was strong and it Avas popular. There were no Jcalou<ies in it; every member was devoted to his chief, and felt that he Avas rightly the chief, whereas, as Lady Montfort said, the "Whigs never had a minis- try before m which there Avere not at h ;i-* a coui»le of men Avho had been prime ministers, and as many more Avho thought they ouglit to be.
There AA'cre years of Avar, and of vast and critical negotia- tions. Ferrars Avas erpial to the duties, for he had much expe- rience, and more thought, and he avus greatly aided by the knoAvledge of affairs, and the clear and tranrpiil judgment of the chief minister. There A\'as only one subject on Avhich there AA'as not betAveen them that complete and cordial unanimity which was so agreeable and satisfactory. And CA'cn in this case, there was no difference of opinion, but rather of senti- ment and feeling. It Avas when King Florcstan expressed his desire to join the grand alliance, and become our active mili- tary ally. It was perhaps impossible, under any circumstances, for the Powers to refuse such an offer, but Endymion Avas strongly in favor of accepting it. It consolidated our interests in a part of Europe Avhere Ave required sympathy and supjiort, and it secured for us the aid and influence of the great liberal party of the continent as distinguished from the secret societies and the socialist republicans. The Count of Ferroll, also.
V]
<^
/a
9
7
//a
IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3)
1.0
I.I
1^128 ||2.5
III 1.8
Photographic
Sciences
Corporation
/
o
t^.
ti.
V CP^
///// / s %^ J%§
|
1.25 1.4 III 1.6 |
||
|
^ ^ 6" |
>■ |
'aF
a\
\
,V
\
^9)
0^
^.
23 WEST MAIN STRECT
WEBSTER, NY. 14580
(716) 872.4503
<>
408
END YMF ON.
whose opinion weighed much with Her Majesty's Government, was decidedly in favor of the combination. The Enghsh prime minister listened to tlieir representations frigidly ; it was diffi- cult to refute the arguments which were adverse to iiis own feelings, and to resist the unanimous opinion not only of his colleagues, hut of our allies. But he was cold and silent, or made discouraging remarks.
"Can you trust him?" he would say. "Remember ho himself has been, and still is, a member of the very secret so- cieties whose baneful influence we are now told he will neu- tralize or subdue. Whatever the cabinet decides, and I fear that with this strong expression of opinion on the part of our allies we have little option left, remember I gave you my warn- ing. I know the gentleman, and I do not trust him."
After this, the prime minister had a most severe attack of the gout, remained for weeks at Gaydene, and saw no one on business except Endymion and Baron Sergius.
While the time is elapsing which can alono decide whether the distrust of Mr. Wilton were well founded or the reverse, let us see how the world is treating the rest of our friends.
Lord Waldershare did not make such a pattern husband as Endymion, but he made a much better one than the world ever supposed he would. Had he married Berengaria, the failure would have been great ; but he was united to a being capable of deep affection and very sensitive, yet grateful for kindness from a husband to a degree not easily imaginable. And Waldershare had really a good heart, though a bad tem- per, and he was a gentleman. Besides, he had a great admira- tion and some awe of his father-in-law, and Lord Ilainault, Avith his good-natured irony, and consummate knowledge of men and things, quite controlled him. With Lady Hainault lie was a favorite. He invented plausible theories and brilliant paradoxes for her, which left her always in a state of charmed wonder, and when she met him again, and adopted or refuted thorn, for her intellectual power was considerable, he furnished her Avith fresh dogmas and tenets, Avhich immediately inter- ested her intelligence, though slio generally forgot to observe that they Avcre contrary to the views and principles of the last
SUCCESS OF OLD FRIEXDS.
469
visit. Between Adriana and Imogene there was a close alli- ance, and Lady Beaumaris did everything in her power to de- velop Lady Waldersharc advantageously before her husband ; and so, not forgetting that Waldershare, with his romance, and imagination, and fancy, and tasii?.. and caprice, had a consid- erable clement of worldliness in his character, and tliat lie liked to feel that, from living in lodgings, he had become a Monte Christo, his union with Adriana may be said to be a happy and successful one.
The friendship between 8ir Peter Vigo and his brother M. P., Mr. Bodney, never diminished, and ^Ir. Bodney became richer every year, lie experienced considerable remorse at sitting in o})position to the son of his right honorable friend, the late William Pitt Ferrars, and frequently consulted Sir Peter on his embarrassment and dilliculty. Sir Peter, wlio never declined arranging any difliculty, told his friend to be easy, and that he, Sir Peter, saw his way. It became gradu- ally understood, that if ever the govcvnment was in dillicultics, Mr. Bodney's vote might be counted on. lie was peculiarly situated, for, in a certain sense, his friend the right honorable William Pitt Ferrars had intrusted the gu;;rdianship of his child to his caro. But whenever the ministry was not in dan- ger, the ministry must not depend upon his vote.
Trenchard had become Secretary of tlie Treasury in tlic Wilton administration, had established his reputation, and was looked upon as a future minister. Jawett, without forfeiting his post and promotion at Somerset House, had become the editor of a n-,\v periodical magazine, called the "Privy Coun- cil." It was established and maintained by Mr. Bertie Tre- maine, and was chiefly written by that gentleman iiimself. It was full of Greek ({notations, to show that it was not Grul) Street, and written in a style as like that of Sir A\ illiam Tem- ple, as a paper in *' Bejected Addresses" might resemble the classic luctihrations of the statesman-sage who, it is hoped, will be always remembered by a grateful country for having intro- duced into these islands the ^loor Park apricot. What the pages of the ''Privy Council " meant no human being luid the slightest conception except Mr. Tremaine Bertie.
470
EXDYMIOK
1^ <
r*; ■?■
Mr. Tliornbcrry rcmuincd a respected .ncmber of the cab- inet. It was tliought liis presence tliere secured the sympathies of advanced Liberalism throughout the country ; but that was a tradition rather than a fact. Statesmen in high places are not always so well acquainted with the changes and jradations of opinion in political parties at home as tlicy arc with those abroad. We hardly mark the growth of the tree we eoc every day. Mr. Thornberry had long ceased to be popular with his former fviends, and the fact that lie had become a minister Avas one of the causes of this change of feeling. That was un- rcusunable, but in politics unreasonable circumstances arc ele- ments of the problem to bo solved. It was generally under- stood that, on the next election, Mr. Thornberry would have to look out for another scat ; his chief constituents, those who arc locally styled the leaders of the party, were still faithful to him, for they were proud of having a cabinet minister for their member, to be presented by him at court, and occasionally to dine with him; but the "masses,"' who do not go to court, and are never asked to dinner, required o member who would represent their whims, and it was quite understood that, on ^he very first occasion, this enlightened community had re- solved to send up to Westminster — Mr. Enoch Craggs.
It is difficult to say, whether in his private life Job found affairs altogether more satisfactory than in his public. His wife had joined the Roman Communion. An ingrained per- verseness, which prevented his son from ever willingly follow- ing the advice or example of liis parents, had preserved John Hampden to the Angl'can faith, but he had portraits of Laud and Strafford over his mantelpiece, and embossed in golden letters on a purple groinid the magical word " Thorough." His library chiefly consisted of the "Tracts for the Times," nnd a colossal edition of the Fathers gorgeously bound. Ho was a very clever fellow, this young Thornberry, a natural orator, and was leader of the High Church party in the Oxford Union, lie brought home his friends occasionally to Hurst- ley, and Job had the opportunity of becoming acquainted with a class and school of humanity — with which, notwithstanding his considerable experience of life, he had no previous knowl-
ST. BAR BE.
471
>>
edge — ^}'oung gentlemen, apparently half starved and dressed liko priests, and sometimes an entiiusiastic young noble, in much better physical condition, and in costume becoming a cavalier, ready to raise the royal standard at Edgehill. What a little annoyed Job was that his son always addressed liim a> **Sfpiire," a habit even pedantically followed by his compan- ions. He was, however, justly entitled to this ancient and reputable honor, for Job had been persuaded to purchase Ilurstley, was a lord of several thousand acres, and had the boar's head carried in procession at Christmas in his ancient hall. It is strange, but he was rather perplexed than annoyed by all these marvelous metamorphoses in his life and family. Ilis intelligence was as clear as ever, and his views on all sub- jects unchanged ; but he was, like many other men, governed at home by his affections. He preferred the new arrangement, if his wife and family were happy and contented, to a domestic system founded on his cwn principles, accompanied by a sullen or shrewish partner of his life and rebellious offspring.
What really vexed him, among comparatively lesser mat- ters, was the extraordinary passion which in time his son im- bibed for game-preserving. lie did at last interfere on this matter, but in vain. John Hampden announced that he did not value land if he was only to look at it, and that sport was the patriotic pastime of an English gentleman. '''You used in old days never to be satisfied with what I got out of the land," said the old grandfather to Job, with a little amiable malice; '* there is enough at any rate now for the hares and rabbits, but I doubt for anybody else."
We must not forget our old friend St. Barbe. Whether he had written himself out or had become lazy in the luxurious life in which he now indulged, he rarely a[)pealed to the liter- ary public, wh;ich still admired him. lie was, by way of inti- mating that he was engaged in a great work, which, though written in his taking prose, was to be really the epopee of social life in this country. Dining out every day, and ever arriving, however late, at those ''small and earlies," which he once de- ppised ; he gave to his friends frequent intimations that he was not there for pleasure, but rather following his profession ; he
■I
pi'.)':;
472
ENDYMIOX.
was in his stutlio, ob.scrving uiul reflecting on all the ])asGions and manners of mankind, and gathering materials for tlic great %vork which was eventually to eneliant and instruct society, and immortalize his name.
"Tlie fact is, I Avrote too earlv," he would sav. " I blush when I read my own books, though compared with those of the brethren, they might still be looked on as classics. They say no artist can draw a camel, and I say no author ever drew a gentleman. How can they, with no opportunity of ever see- ing one ? And so, with a little caricature of manners, which they catch second-hand, they arc obliged to have recourse to outrageous nonsense, as if polished life consisted only of biga- mists, and that ladies of fashion were in the habit of paying blackmail to returned convicts. However, I shall put an end to all this. I liave now got the materials, or am accumulating them daily. You hint that I give myself up too much to so- ciety. You are talking of things you do not understa:.d. A •dinner party is a chapter. I catch the Cynthia of the minute, sir, at a xoirtc. If I only served a grateful country, I should bo in the jn'oudest position of any of its sons ; if I had been born in any country but this, I should have been decorated, and perhaps made secretary of state like Addison, who did not write as well as I do, though his style somewhat resembles mine."
Notwithstanding these great plans, it came in time to En- dymion's ears, that poor St. Barbe was in terrible straits. En- dymion delicately helped him and then obtained for liim a pension, and not an inconsiderable one. Relieved from anx- iety, St. Barbe resumed his ancient and natural vein, lie passed his days in decrying his friend and patron, and com])ar- ing his miserable pension with the salary of a secretary of state, who, so far as his experience went, was generally a second-rate man. Endymion, though he knew St. Barbe was always de- crying him, only smiled, and looked upon it all as tlie neces- sary consequence of his organization, which involved a singular combination of vanity and envy in the highest degree. St. Barbe Avas not less a guest in Carlton Terrace than heretofore, .and was even kindly invited to Princedown to profit by the
A PROJECTED ROYAL VISIT.
473
distant sca-brcczc. Lady Montfort, wlioso cars some uf his pranks liad reached, was not so tolerant as her liusband. She gave liim one day lier views of liis conduct. St. Barbc was always a little afraid of her, and on this occasion entirely lost himself ; vented the most solemn affirmations that there was not a grain of truth in these charges ; that he was the victim, as he had been all his life, of slander and calumny — the sheer creatures of envy, and then began to fawn upon his hostess, and declared that ho had ever thoufjht there was something godlike in the character of her husband.
*' And what is there in yours, Mr. St. Barbc ? " asked Lady Montfort.
The ministry had lasted several years, its foreign policy had been successful ; it had triumphed in war and secured ]h>;icc. The military conduct of the troojis of King Florestan had con- tributed to these results, and the popularity of that sovereign in England Avas for a foreigner unexampled. During this agi- tated interval, Endymion and Myra had met more than once, through the providential medium of those favored spots of na- ture— German baths.
There had arisen a public feeling, that the ally Avho had served us so well should be invited to visit again a country wherein he had so long sojourned, and where he was so mucli appreciated. The only evidence that the Prime Minister gave that he was conscious of this feeling was an attack of gout. Endymion himself, though in a difficult and rather painful position in this matter, did everything to shield and protect his chief, but the general sentiment became so strong, sanc- tioned too, as it was understood, in the highest quarter, that it could no longer be passed by unnoticed ; and, in due time, to the great delight and satisfaction of the nation, an impend- ing visit from our faithful ally King Florestan and his beauti- ful wife, Queen Myra, was authoritatively announced.
Every preparation was made to show them honor. They were the guests of our Sovereign ; but from the palace, which they were to inhabit, to the humblest tenement in the meanest back street, there was only one feeling of gratitude, ai)d re- gard, and admiration. The English people are the most en-
474
ENDIMION.
r h
1%
5
tliiisiustic people in the world ; there are other populations which are more excitable, but there is no nation, when it feels, where the sentiment is so profound and irresistible.
The hour arrived. The season and the weather were favora- ble. From the port where they landed to their arrival at the metropolis, the whole country seemed poured out into the open air ; triumphal arches, a way of ilags and banners, and bits of bunting on every hovel. The King and Queen were received at the metroi)olitan station by Princes of the blood, and aecom- l)anied to the palace, where the great oflicers of state and the assembled ministry were gathered together to do them honor. A great strain was thrown ui)on Endymion throughout these proceedings, as the Prime Minister, who had been suffering the whole season, and rarely present in his seat in Parliament was, at this moment, in his worst paroxysm. He could not therefore be present at the series of balls and banquets, and brilliant public functions, which gi-eeted the royal guests. Their visit to the City, when they dined with the Lord Mayor, and to which they drove in royal carriages through a sea of population tumultuous with devotion, was the most gratifying of all these splendid receptions, partly from the associations of mysterious power and magnificence connected with the title and character of Lord Mayor. The Duke of St. Angelo, the Marquis of Vallombrosa, and the Prince of Montserrat, quite lost their presence of mind. Even the Princess of Montserrat, Avith more quarterings on her own side than any house in Eu- rope, ci)nfessed that she trembled when Ilcr Serene Highness courcesied before the Lady Mayoress. Perhaps, however, the most brilliant, the most fanciful, infinitely the most costly entertainment that was given on this memorable occasion, was the festival at Ilainault. The whole route from town to the forest was Ined with thousands, perhaps hundreds of thou- sands, of spectators ; a thousand guests were received at the banquet, and twelve palaces were raised by tliat +^^rue magician, Mr. Benjamin Edgington, in the park, for tlio countless vis- itors in the evening. At night the forest was illuminated. Everybody was glad except Lady Hainault, who sighed, and said, " I have no doubt the queen would have preferred her
LADY MONTFORT EXCITED.
475
ig
own room, and that wc should luive had a ([iiiet diuucr, as in old day:^, in the little Venetian parlor."
When Endymion returned home at night, he found a sum- mons to Gaydcne ; the Prime Minister being, it was feared, in a dangerous state.
The next day, late in the afternoon, there was a rumor that the Prime Minister had resigned. Then it was authoritatively contradicted, and then at night another rumor rose that the minister had resigned, hut that the resignation would not he accepted until after the termination of the royal visit. Tiie king and queen had yet to remain a short week.
The fact is, the resignation had taken place, but it was known only to those who then could not have imi)arted the intelligence. The public often conjectures the truth, though it clothes its impression or information in the vague shai)e of a rumor. In four-and-twenty hourr the great fact was authori- tatively announced in all the journals, with leading articles speculating on the successor to the able and accomjilished min- ister of whose services the Sovereign and the country were so unhappily deprived. Would his successor be found in his own cabinet ? And thon several names were mentioned ; Raw- chester, to Lady Monifort's disgust. Rawchester was a safe man, and had had much experience, which, as with most safe men, probably left him as wise luid able as before he imbibed it. Would there be altogether a change of parties ? Would the Protectionists try again ? They were very strong, but al- ways in a minority, like some great continental powers, who have the finest army in the world, and yet get always beaten. Would that band of self-admiring geniuses, who had upset every cabinet with whom they were ever connected, return on the shoulders of the people, as they always dreamed, thougli they were always tlie persons of whom the people never seemed to think ?
Lady Montfort was in a state of passive excitement. She was quite pale, and she remained quite pale for hours. She would sec no one. She sat in Endymion's room, and never spoke, while he continued writing and transacting his affairs. She thought she was reading the '' Morning Post," but really
Is
476
h
<-iii
>,vi.i;
not distinguish
ENDYMIOX.
the advertisements from the
leading
could
articles. ■
There was a knock at the library door, and the groom of the chambers brought in a note for Endymion. lie glanced at the handwriting of the address, and then opened it, as pule as his wife. Then he read it again, and then he gave it to her. She threw her eyes over it, and then her arms around his neck.
*' Order my brougham at three o'clock."
CHAPTER CI.
Endymion was with his sister.
"IIow dear of you to come to mc," she said, *'when you can not liuvc a moment to yourself."
*' "Well, you know," he replied, '* it is not like forming a government. That is an affair. I have reason to think all my colleagues will remain with me. I shall summon them for this afternoon, and if we agree, affairs Avill go on as before. I should like to get down to Gaydenc to-night."
"To-night!" said the queen musingly. **We have only one day left, and I wanted you to do something for me."
*•' It shall be done, if possible ; I need not say that."
*''It is not difficult to do, if we have time — if we have to- morrow morning, and early. But if you go to Gay dene you will hardly return to-night, and I shall lose my chance — and yet it is to me a business most precious."
" It shall be managed ; tell me then."
'' I learned that Hill Street is not occupied at this moment. I want to visit the old house Avitli you, before I leave England, probably for ever. I have only got the early morn to-morrow, but Avith a veil and your brougham, I think we might depart unobiierved, before the crowd begins to assemble. Do you think jou could be here at nine o'clock ?"
So it was settled, and being hurried, he departed.
And next morning he was at tlie palace before nine o'clock ; and the queen, veiled, entered his brougham. There were al-
1 1
rUE LAST EM n RACE.
477
ready some loiterers, but tlio brotlicr and sister passed throii*,'h the gates unobserved.
They readied Hill Street. Tiic queen visited all the prin- cipal rooms, and made many remarks api)ropriatc to many mem- ories. " But," she said, " it was not to sec tliese rooms I came, though I was ghid to do so, and the corridor on the second story wlience I called out to you when you returned, and for ever, from Eton, and told you there was bad news. What I came for was to see our old nursery, where we lived so long together, and so fondly ! Here it is ; here we arc. All I have desired, all I have dreamed, have come to pass. Darling, beloved of my soul, by all our sorrows, by all our joys, in this scene of our childhood and bygone days, let me give you my last embrace."
THE END,