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NOVELS AND TALES
EARL OF BEACONSFIELD
WITH PORTKAIT AND SKETCH OF HIS LIPL
VOL. X.-LOTHAIR
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LONDON /.ONUMANS, GHKKN. AND CO.
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PUIMED AT TUF nALLANTTNK PRHS"^, F.DINPUKGM
TO
HIS EOYAL HIGHXESS
THE DUKE OF AUMALE
RESPECT AND AFFECTIOS.
GENERAL PREFACE.
II
As AifBRiCAii oESTLEMiN, with more than courtesy, bas forwarded to me a vast number of notices of LoTium which have appeared in the leading joiirna's of his country. He t«lls me that, irrespective of literaiy ' organs,' there are in the Union five thousand news- {hiper^, and it is not impossible that some notice of 'Lothair' might appear io each of these. However varioius maj be the opiniona of those which I thiis possess, they appear to me generally to be sincere, and in point of literary ability ; taste, style, and critical ticumea ; I think they need not fear competition with the similar productions of our own land.
My English publishers also have made a collection of the notices of this work in our own country, and though we have not yet five thousand newspapers, the aggre- gate of articles is in amount perhaps unprecedented. I have nothing to complain of in their remarks. One could hardly expect at home the judicial impar- tiality of a foreign land. Personal influences inevit- ably mingle in some degree with such productions. There are critics who, abstractealy, do not approve of Buooesrful books, particularly if they have failed in the
viii GENERAL PREFACE.
»ame style ; social acquaintances also of lettered taste, and especially cotemporaries whose public life has not exactly realised the vain dreams of their fussy existence, would seize the accustomed opportunity of welcoming with affected discrimination about nothing, and elaborate controversy about trifles, the production of a friend ; and there is always, both in politics and literature, the lace of the Dennises, the Oldmixons, and Curls, who flatter themselves that, by systematically libelling some eminent personage of their times, they have a chance of descending to posterity.
A distinguished individual has suggested that, in a preface to this edition of my collected works, I might give ray own views of the purport of ' Lothair.' It strikes me, with all deference, that it would be not a little presumptuous for an author thus to be the self- critic of volumes which appeared only a few months ago. Their purport to the writer seems clear enough, and as they have been more extensively read both by the people of the United Kingdom and the United States than any work that has appeared for the last half cen- tury, I will even venture to assimie that on this point they are of the same opinion as myself.
But on some other works, the youngest of which were written a quarter of a century ago, it would per- haps be in me not impertinent now to make a few remarks. Coningsbt, Stbil, and Tancred form a real Trilogy ; that is to say, they treat of the same subject, and endeavour to complete that treatment. The origin and character of our political parties, their influence on the condition of the people of this country, some picture of the moral and physical condition of
I
■Htid KhicI
m Bo
GENERAL PREFACE.
people, and some intimation of the means by 1 it nughl be elevated and improved, were themes
lich bad long engaged my meditation.
Born in a library, and trained from early childhood by learned men who did not share the passions and the prejudices of our political and social life, I had imbibed on some subjects cooclusiona dilTerent from those which generally prevail, and especially with reference to the history of our own country. How an oligarchy bad been Eubstitut^d for a kingdom, and a narrow-minded AuA bigot«d fanaticism flourished in the oame of re- ligious liberty, were problems long to me insoluble, but which early interested me. But what most attracted my musing, even as a lioy, was the elements of our political parties, and the strange mystification by which that which was national in ita constitution had become odious, and that which was exclusive was presented as jwpular.
What has mainly led to this confusion of public lought and this uneasiness of society is our habitual iiesaness in not distinguishing between the excel- lence of a principle and its injurious or obsolete appli- cation. The feudal system may have worn out, but its main principle, that the tenure of property should be the fulfilment of duty, is the essence of good govern- ment. The diviue right of kings may have been a plea for feeble tyrants, but the divine right of government is Ui« keystone of human progress, and without itgoverc- ments siak into police, and a nation is degraded into a mob.
National institutions were the ramparts of the multi- tude against large estates exercising political power
petrel
r^
GENERAL PREFACE.
derived from a limited class. The Church was in theoxy, and once it had been in practice, the spiritual and intellectual trainer of the people. The privileges of the multitude and the prerogatives of the Sovereign had grown up together, and together they had waned. Under the plea of liberalism, all the institutions which were the bulwarks of the multitude had been sapped and weakened, and nothing had been substituted for them. The people were without education, and, relatively to the advance of science and the comfort of the superior classes, their condition had deteriorated, and their physical quality as a race was threatened. Those who in theory were the national party, and who sheltered themselves imder the institutions of the country against the oligarchy, had, both by a misconception and a neglect of their duties, become, and justly be- come, odious; while the oligarchy, who had mainly founded themselves on the plunder of the popular estate, either in the shape of the possessions of the Church or the domains of the Crown, had by the patronage of certain general principles which they only meagerly applied, assumed, and to a certain degree acquired, the character of a popular party. But no party was national : one was exclusive and odious, and the other liberal and cosmopolitan.
The perverse deviation of political parties from their original significance may at first sight seem only a subject of historical curiosity, but they assume a dif- ferent character when they practically result in the degradation of a people.
To change back the oligarchy into a generous aris- tocracy round a real throne ; to infuse life and vigour
into the Church, lu the trainer of the aatlon, by the revival of Convocation, then dumb, on a wide boais, and not, as has been since done, in the shape of a priestly section ; to establish a commercial code on the principles Biiccessfiilly negotiated by Lord Boling- broke at Utrecht, and which, though bafEed at the time by a Whig Parliament, were subsequently and triumphantly vindicated by his political pupil aud heir, Mr. Piti ; to govern Ireland according to th« policy of Charles I. and not of Oliver Cromwell; to emancipate the political constituency of 1832 from its sectarian bondage and contracted sympathies; to elevate the physical as well as the moral condition of the people, by establishing that labour required regulation as much as property ; and all this rather by the use of ancient forms and the restoration of the past than by political revolutions founded on abstract ideas, appeared to be the course which the circumRtanees of this countxy required, and which, practically speaking, could only, with all their faults and backslidings, be undertaken and accomplished by a reconstructed Tory Party.
When I attempted to enter public life, I eipressed these views, long meditated, to my countrymen, but they met with little encouragement. He who steps out of the crowd is listened to with suspicion or with heedless- ness : and forty years ago there prevailed a singular ignorance of the political history of our country. I had no connection either in the press or in public life. I incurred the accustomed penalty of being looked on aa a visionary, and what I knew to be facts were treated aa paradoxes.
Ten years afterwards affairs had changed. I J;ad
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xii GENERAL PREFACE.
been some time in Parliament and had friends who had entered public life with myself, and who listened always with interest and sometimes with sympathy to views which I had never ceased to enforce. Living much together, without combination we acted together. Some of those who were then my companions have, like myself, since taken some part in the conduct of public affairs : two of them, and those who were not the least interested in our speculations, have departed. One was Georgb Smtthb, afterwards seventh Lord Strang- ford, a man of brilliant gifts ; of dazzling wit, infinite culture, and fascinating manners. His influence over youth was remarkable, and he could promulgate a new faith with graceful enthusiasm. Henrt Hope, the eldest son of the author of * Anastasius,' was of a dif- ferent nature, but he was learned and accomplished, possessed a penetrating judgment and an inflexible will. Master of a vast fortune, his house naturally became our frequent rendezvous; and it was at the Deefdbne, that he first urged the expediency of my treating in a literary form those views and subjects which were the matter of our frequent conversation.
This was the origin of Coningsbt or the New Generation, which I conmienced imder his roof, and which I inscribed to his name.
The derivation and character of political parties ; the condition of the people which had been the consequence of them ; the duties of the Church as a main remedial agency in our present state ; were the three principal topics which I intended to treat, but I found they were too vast for the space I had allotted to myself.
These were all laimched in *Coningsby,' but the
GENERAL PREFACE.
origin and condition of political parties, tl)e first por- tion of tbe theme, vaa the only one completely handled in that work.
Next year (1845), in Stsil ok the Two Nations, I conudered the condition of the people, and tbe whole work, generally speaking, was devoted to that portion of my scheme. At that time the Chartist agitation was Gtill fresh in the public memory, and its repetition was far from improbable. I had mentioned to my Iriend, the lute Thouas Duncoube, and who waa my friend before I entered the House of Commons, eome- Ihing of what I was contemplating ; and he oll'ered and obtained for my perusal the whole of tbe correspond- ence of Feargus O'Connor when conductor of the ' Northern Star,' with the leaders and chief actors of the Chartist movement. I had visited and observed with care all the localities introduced ; and as an accu- nt« and never exaggerated picture of a remarkable period in our domestic history, and of a popular orga- nisation which in its extent and completeness has perhaps never been equalled, the pages of Sybil may, I venture to believe, be consulted with confidence.
In recognising the Church as a powerful agent in the previous development of England, and possibly the most efficient means of that renovation of the national spirit which wbis desired, it seemed to me that the time had arrived when it became my duty to ascend to the origin of that great ecclesiastical corporation, and con- sider the position of the descendants of that race who had been the founders of Christianity. Some of the great truths of ethnology were necessarily involved in such discussions. Familiar as we all are now with such
xiv GENERAL PREFACE,
themes, the house of Israel being now freed from the barbarism of mediaeval misconception, and judged, Uke all other races, by their contributions to the existing sum of human welfare, and the general influence of race on human action being universally recognised as the key of history, the diflSculty and hazard of touch- ing for the first time on such topics cannot now be easily appreciated. But public opinion recognised both the truth and sincerity of these views, and, with its sanction, in Takcred or the New Crusade, the third portion of the Trilogy, I completed their development.
It will be seen that the general spirit of these pro- ductions ran coimter to the views which had been long prevalent in England, and which may be popularly, though not altogether accurately, described as utili- tarian. They recognised imagination in the government of nations as a quality not less important than reason. They trusted much to a popular sentiment, which rested on an heroic tradition and was sustained by the high spirit of a free aristocracy. Their economic prin- ciples were not unsound, but they looked upon the health and knowledge of the multitude as not the least precious part of the wealth of nations. In asserting the doctrine of race, they were entirely opposed to the equality of man, and similar abstract dogmas, which have destroyed ancient society without creating a satis- factory substitute. Sesting on popular sympathies and popular privileges, they held that no society could be durable unless it^was built upon the principles of loyalty and religious reverence.
The writer and those who acted with him looked, then, upon the Anglican Church as a main machinery by
I
GENERAL PREFACE. xv
wliich thpse results miglit \ie realised. There were few great thinj^s left in England, and the Church waa one. Nor do I now doubt thiit if, a quarter of a century ago, there had arisen a churchman equal to the occaaion, the position of ecclesiastical affairs in this country would have been very different from that which they now occupy. But these great matters fell into the hands of raonka and schoolmen ; and little more than a year after the publication of Cosisgsbt, the secession of Dr. Newjian dealt a blow to the Church of England under which it still reels. That extraordinary event baa been ' apologised ' for, but has never been explained. It was a miatake and a misfortune, Tbo tradition of the Anglican Church was powerful. Resting ou the Church of Jerusalem, modified by the divine school of Galilee, it would have found that rock of truth which Providence, by the InBtrumentality of the Semitic race, had promised to St. Peter. Instead of that, the aeceders sotight refuge in mediiEval euperstittong, which are generally only the embodiments of pagan cere- monies and creeds.
It cannot be denied that the aspect of the world and this country, to thuae who have faith in tha spiritual nature of man, is at this time dark and distressful. They listen to douittg, and even denials, of an active Providence ; what is styled Materialism ia in the ascendant. To those who believe that an atheistical society, though it may be polished and amiable, in- volves the seeds of anarchy, the prospect is full of gloom.
This disturbance in the mind of nations has been occasioned by two causes : first, by the powerful assault
xvi GENERAL PREFACE.
on the divinity of the Semitic literature by the Germans, and, secondly, by recent discoveries of science, which are hastily supposed to be inconsistent with our long- received convictions as to the relations between the Creator and the created.
One of the consequences of the Divine government of this world, which has ordained that the sacred pur- poses should be effected by the instnmientality of various human races, must be occasionally a jealous discontent with the revelation entrusted to a particular family. But there is no reason to believe that the Teutonic rebellion of this century against the Divine truths entrusted to the Semites will ultimately meet with more success than the Celtic insurrection of the preceding age. Both have been sustained by the highest intellectual gifts that human nature has ever displayed ; but when the tujnult subsides, the Divine truths are found to be not less prevalent than before, and simply be- cause they are divine. Man brings to the study of the oracles more learning and more criticism than of yore : and it is well that it should be so. The documents will yet bear a greater amount both of erudition and exami- nation than they have received ; but the word of God is eternal, and will survive the spheres.
The sceptical effects of the discoveries of science, and the uneasy feeling that they cannot co-exist with our old religious convictions, have their origin in the circum- stance, that the general body who have suddenly become conscious of these physical truths are not so well ac- quainted as is desirable with the past history of man. As- tonished by their unprepared emergence &om ignorance to a certain degree of information, their amazed intelli-
r
GENERAL PREFACE.
gence takes refiige in the theory of what ia conveoiently c&Ued Progress, aad evety step in scientific dieoovery seems further to remove them from the path of primiBval iiuplratioD. But there Ib do fallacy so flagrant as to Euppose that the modem ages have the peculiar privi- lege of scientific discovery, or that they are distinguished as the epochs of the most illustrious inventions. On the contrary, scientific invention has always gone on simul- taneously with the revelation of spiritual truths; and more, the greatest discoveries are not those of modem ages. No one for a moment can pretend that printing is ao great a discovery as writing, or algebra as language. What are the most brilliant of our chymical discoveries compared with the invention of fire and the metals ? It is a vulgar belief that our astronomical knowledge dates only from the recent century when it was rescueil from the monks who imprisoned Galileo ; but Hippar- chus, who lived before oiu- Divine Master, and who among other sublime acliievements discovered the precession of the equinoxes, ranks with the Newtons and the Keplera ; and Copernicus, the modern father of our celestial science^ avows himself, in his famous work, W only the champion of Pythagoras, whose system he enforces and illustrates. Even the most modish schemes of the day on the origin of things, which captivate RS much by their novelty as their truth, may find their preciu^ors in ancient sages, and after a careful analysis of the blended elements of imagination and induction which characterise the new theories, tliey will be found mainly to rest on the atom of Epicurus and the monad of Thales. Scientific like spiritual truth has ever from the beginning been descending from
M
xviii GENERAL PREFACE.
Heaven to man. He is a being who organically demands direct relations with his Creator, and he would not have been so organised if his requirements could not be satisfied. We may analyse the sim and penetrate the stars, but man is conscious that he is made in Ood's own image, and in his perplexity he will ever appeal to our Father which art in Heaven.
I had been in Parliament seven years when this Trilogy was published, and during that period I had not written anything ; but in 1837, the year I entered the House of Conmions, I had published two works, JIenbietta Temple and Venetia. These are not politi- cal works, but they would conmiemorate feelings more enduring than public passions, and they were written with care, and some delight. They were inscribed to two friends, the best I ever had, and not the least gifted. One was the inimitable D'Obsat, the most accomplished and the most engaging character that has figured in this century, who, with the form and universal genius of an Alcibiades, combined a brilliant wit and a heart of quick affection, and who, placed in a public position, would have displayed a courage, a judgment, and a command^ ing intelligence which would have ranked him with the leaders of mankind. The other was one who had enjoyed that public opportunity which had been denied to CoMTB D'Orsay. The world has recognised the political courage, the versatile ability, and the mascu- line eloquence of Lord Ltndhubst ; but his intimates only were acquainted with the tenderness of his dis- position, the sweetness of his temper, his ripe scholar- ship, and the playfulness of his bright and airy spirit.
And here I cannot refrain from mentioning that in
GENERAL PREFACE.
1337 I accompaiiied Lord Lyndhurst to Kensin^it Palace, nben, on the accesEioii of the Queen, the peere and privy councillors and chief peraonages of the realm pledged their fealty to their new Sovereign. He was greatly affected by the unusual i youthful maiden receiving the homage of her subjectB, most of them illustriouB, in a palitce in a garden, and all with a sweet and natural dignity. He gave me, as we drove home, an aninaated picture of what had occurred in the Presence Chamber, marked by all that penetrating observation, and happy tersenesB of description, which distinguished him. Eight years aftenvardB, with my memory still under the influence of his effective narrative, I reproduced the scene in SrfliL, and I feel sure it may be referred to for ita historical accuracy.
There was yet a barren interval of five years of my life, so far as literature was concerned, between the publication of ' Henrietta Temple,' and ' Venetia,' and my earlier works. In 1832 I had published Cuntabiki Fi^uma and Alhot. I had then returned from two years of travel in the Mediterranean regions, and I published * Contarini Fleming' anonymously, and in the midst of a revolution. It was almost stillborn, and having written it with deep thought and feeling, I was naturally discouraged from further effort. Yet the youthful writer who may, like me, be inclined to despair, may learn also from my example nut to be precipitate in his resolves. Gradually 'Contarini Fleming ' found sympathising readers ; Goetiib and Bgckford were impelled to communicate their uii- Bulicited opinions of this work to its anonymous author,
XX GENERAL PREFACE.
and I have seen a criticism on it by Heine, of which any writer might be justly proud. Yet all this does not prevent me &om being conscious that it would have been better if a subject so essentially psycho- logical had been treated at a more mature period of Ufe.
I had commenced *Alroy' the year after my first publication, and had thrown the manuscript aside. Being at Jerusalem in the year 1831, and visiting the traditionary tombs of the kings, my thoughts recurred to the marvellous career which had attracted my boy- hood, and I shortly after finished a work which I began the year after I wrote Vivian Gret.
What my opinion was of that my first work, written in 1826, was shown by my publishing my second anony- mously. Books written by boys, which pretend to give a picture of manners and to deal in knowledge of human nature, must be affected. They can be, at the best, but the results of imagination acting on knowledge not ac- quired by experience. Of such circumstances exaggera- tion is a necessary consequence, and false taste accom- panies exaggeration. Nor is it necessary to remark that a total want of art must be observed in such pages, for that is a failing incident to &11 first efforts. ' Vivian Grey ' is essentially a puerile work, but it has baffled even the efforts of its creator to suppress it. Its fate has been strange ; and not the least remarkable thing is, that forty-four years after its first publication, I must ask the indulgence of the reader for its con- tinued and inevitable re-appearanoe.
D.
RuQBiZNDEM Manob : October 1870.
LOTHAIE.
CHAPTEE I.
' I UUKUDEK BID & little boy.' said the Ducliess, 'a pretty little boy, bnt very shy. Hia mother brought him to ne OHO day. She was a dear friend of mine ; yon Icdow ahe waa ooe of niy bridesmaids ? '
* And you have neror seen bim since, mamma ? ' en- qoiivd a married daughter, who looked lilce the yonnger BiBtcr of bcT mother.
'Never; be was an orphan ahortly after; I bavo of^n reproached myself, but it is bo difficult to see boys. Then, he never went to school, bnt was brought ap in the High- taiids wilh a rather aav^e uncle ; and if he and Bertram had not become friends at Christcburch, I do uot well see how W9 OTCr conld have known him.'
These remarks were made in the morning-room of Brontham, wlicro the mistreaa of the mansion sate sur- rounded by her daughters, all occupied with various works. One knitted a purse, another adorned a slipper, a third emblaxoued a page. Beautiful forms ia counsel leant over fnu&es glowing with embroidery, while two fair sisters mora remota occasionally borst into melody, as they tried th* pMmgiM of a new air, which had been communicated to them iu the manuscript of some devoted friend.
The Dachess, ona of the greatest heiresses of BHUin,
2 LOTH AIR.
siDgnlarlj bcautifol and gifted with native grace, had mar- ried in her teens one of the wealthiest and most powerfiil of our nobles, and scarcely older than her8el£ ELer hus- band was as distinguished for his appearance and his manners as his bride, and those who specolate on race were interested in watching the development of their pro- geny, who in form, and colour, and voice, and manner, and mind were a reproduction of their parents, who seemed only the elder brother and sister of a gifted circle. The daughters with one exception came first, and all met the same fate. After seventeen years of a delicious home they were presented, and inmiediately married ; and all to per- sonages of high consideration. After the first conquest^ this fate seemed as regular as the order of nature. Then came a son, who was now at Ghristchurch, and then several others, some at school, and some scarcely out of the nursery. There was one daughter unmarried, and she was to be presented next season. Though the family like- ness was still apparent in Lady Gorisande, in general ex- i pression she diObred from her sisters. They were all alike I with their delicate aquiline noses, bright complexions, short upper lips, and eyes of sunny light. The beauty of.Lady Gorisande was even more distinguished and more regular, but whether it were the effect of her dark-brown hair or darker eyes, her countenance had not the lustre of the rest, and its expression was grave and perhaps pensive.
The Duke, though still young, and naturally of a gay and joyous temperament, had a high sense of duty, and strong domestic feelings. He was never wanting in his public place, and he was fond of his wife aud his children ; stiU more proud of them. Every day when he looked into the glass, and gave the last touch to his consummate toilette, he offered his grateful thanks to Providence that his £Bunily was not unworthy of him.
His Ch:tice was accustomed to say that he had only one
i
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LOlllAlR. 3
nufortoce, and it was a ^reat one ; he had no hone. His ramily )iad married so many heiresses, and he, consc- qaeDlIy, possessed so macy halls and caRtleH, at &U of wliich, periodically, he wished, from a right fccHrg, to reside, that there was no sacred spot identified with hia life in which his heart, in the hustle and tniuult ofoiistence, coold take reliige. Breotham was llie original Beat of his family, and he was even passionately foinl of it; hat it was remarkable how very short a puriod of his yearly life waa passed under its stat«ly roof. So it was his custom always to repair to Brentham the moment the season was orer, and he would exact from his children, that, however short might be the time, they would be his companions under those circnmstances. The daaghtera loved Brentham, and ibey loved to please their father ; bat the socs-in-law, though they were what is called devoted to their wives, and, nnnsoal as it may seem, scarcely less attached to their legal parents, did not fall very easily int^ this arrajigeinent. The oouDti-y in August without sport was unqnestioBably to them a severe trial: nevertheless, they rarely omitted making their appearance, and if they did occasionally vanish, sometimes to Cones, sometimes to Switzerland, sometimes to Norway, they always wrote to their vrivea, and always alluded to their immediate or approaching re- turn ; and their letters gracefully contrilinted to the fund of domestic amusement.
And yet it Would be diiScnlt to find a fairer scene than itham offered, osijecially in the Instrous effulgence of a ions English summer- It was an Italian palace of free- stone i vast, ornate, and in scrupulous condition; its spacioos nad graceful chamhera filled with treasures of art, and ri-dug itself from statacd and stately terraces. At their foot spread a gardened domain of considerable extent, bright writh (lowers, dim with coverts of rare shrubs, and musical with fonntainB. Its limit reached a park, with timber such
L
4 LOTH AIR.
as the midland connties only can produce. The fidlow doer trooped among its femj solitudes and gigantic oaikB ; but beyond the waters of the broad and winding laJi^e the scene became more savage, and the eye caught the dark form of the red deer on some jutting mount, Hhrinking with scorn from communion with his gentler brethren.
CHAPTER II.
LoTHAiB was the little boy whom the Duchess remembered. He was a posthumous child, and soon lost a devoted mother. His only relation was one of his two guardians, a Scotch noble, a Presbyterian and a Whig. This uncle was a widower with some children, but they were girls, and, though Lothair was attached to them, too young to be his companions. Their father was a keen, hard man, honour- able and just, but with no softness of heart or manner. He guarded with precise knowledge and with unceasing vigilance Lothair's vast inheritance, which was in many counties and in more than one kingdom ; but he educated him in a Highland home, and when he had reached boy- hood thought fit to send him to the High School of Edin- burgh. Lothair passed a monotonous if not a dull life; but he found occasional solace in the scenes of a wild and beautiful nature, and delight in all the sports of the field and forest, in which he was early initiated and completely indulged. Although an Englishman, he was fifteen before he revisited his country, and then his glimpses of England were brief, and to him scarcely satisfactory. He was hurried sometimes to vast domains, which he heard were his own ; and sometimes whisked to the huge metropolis, where he was shown St. Paul's and the British Mnseunu These visits left a vague impression of bustle without
LOTHAIR.
5
_^ndiie66, and eshaoBtion withoot excitemeni ; and he was glad to get back to hia glens, to the moor and the uioimlAiii- etrcam.
His father, in the selection of hia guardinna, had not contemplated tlus system of edtication. While he secured, hj the appointment of bis brother-in-law, tbe moBt com- petent and trostvorthj steward of liia son's fortune, he had depended on another for that inflocnce which ehonld roonld the character, gaiile the opinions, ajid form the tostea of his child. The other guardian was a clergyman, hin father's private tutor and beart-friend ; scarcely his parent's aeuior, but exercising over him iiroaistible infincnce, for he was a man of shining talents and abounding knowledge, brilliant and profound. But unhappily, shortly after Lo- tbiur became an orphan, this distinguished man seceded &-om the Anglican communion, and entered the Chnrcli of Rome. From this moment there wag war between the guardians. Tbe uncle endeavoured to drive bis colleague fi-ota tiib trust: in this he ftuled, for the priest would not renounce his ofEce. The Scotch noble succeeded, however, in making it a fruitless one: he thwarted every anggestion that emanated from tbe obnoxious quarter ; and indeed tbe Mcret reason of the almost constant residence of Lo- thair in Scotland, and of his bai^h education, was the fear of bis relative, tlmt the moment be creased tbe border he might, by some mysterious process, fall under the inflnence that his guardian so mnch dreaded and detested.
Thej« was, however, a limit to these severe procantioaa even before Lothair should reach liia majority. His father had expressed in his will that bis son should be cdacal«d Kt the Unii-ersity of Oxford, and at the same college of irhich lie hod boon a member. His uncle was of opinion be
mplied with the spirit of this instruction by sending T to the University of Edinburgh, which would give
0 last tonic to his moral system ; and then commenced a
6 LOTH AIR.
celebrated chancery suit, institnied bj the Roman Catholic firaardian, in order to enforce a literal compliance with the edncational condition of the wilL The uncle looked upon thia movement as a Popish plot, and had recourse to every available allegation and argument to baffle it, but ulti- mately in vain. With every precaution to secure his Pro- testant principles, and to guard against the influence, or even personal interference, of his Roman Catholic guardian, the Lord Chancellor decided that Lothair should be sent to Ohristchurch.
Here Lothair, who had never been favoured with a com- panion of his own age and station, soon found a congenial one in the heir of Brentham* Inseparable in pastime, not dissociated even in study, sympathising companionship soon ripened into fervent friendship. They lived so much to- gether that the idea of separation became not only painfol bat impossible ; and, when vacation arrived, and Brentham was to be visited by its fature lord, what more natural than that it should be arranged that Lothair should be a visitor to his domain P
CHAPTER in.
Although Lothair was the possessor of as many palaces and castles as the Duke himself, it is curious that his first dinner at Brentham was almost his introduction into refined society. He had been a guest at the occasional banquets of his undo, but these were festivals of the Picts and Scots ; rude plenty and coarse splendour, with noise instead of conversation, and a tumult of obstructive dependants, who impeded, by their want of skill, the very convenience which they were purposed to facilitate. How different the surrounding scene ! A table covered with flowers, bright
LOTH AIR. 7
mtb fknci^l crystal, Euid porcelain tliat had belongixt to aovereigna, wbo bad given & name to its colour or its form. As for thoac present, all seemed grace and ^ntleneas, from tbe radiant daughters of the house to the noiseless attend- knts that anticipated all his wants, and eometlmes seemed ta Btiggest his wishes.
Lothair sat between two of the married daughters. They addres-ied him witli so much sympathy that he was ignite enchanted. When they aaked their pretty questions nod made their sparkling remarks, roses seemed to drop from their lips, and sometimes diamonds. It naa a rather Urge party, for the Breutham family were so nnmerona that Ihey themselves made a festival. There were fonr married daughters, the Duke and two sons-in-law, a clorgymnn or two, and some ladies and gentlemen who were seldom absent from this circle, and who, by their useful talents and various accomplishments, alleviated the toil or cares of life from which even princes are not eaempt.
Wheu the ladies had retired to the Duchess's drawing- room, all the married daagbt^rs clustered round tlieir mother.
' Do yon know, mamma, we all think him very good- lookitig,' said the youngest married daughter, tbs wife of tbe listless and handsome St. Aldegonde.
*And not at all shy,' said Lady Montairy, 'though re- Aerved.*
* I admire deep blue eyes with dark lashes,* said the Dnchess.
Notwithstanding tbe decision of Lady Montairy, Lothair was 8can:cly free from embarrassment when he rejoined the ladies ; and was so afraid of standing alone, or talking only to men, that he was almost on tlie point of Ending Toftig* in his dinner companions, had not he instinctively felt th&t this would have been a social blunder. But the Dticbem reUeved him : her graciona glance nought his at
8 LOTH AIR.
the right moment, and she rose and met him some way as he advanced. The friends had arrived so late, that Lothair had had only time to make a reverence of cerumen j before dinner.
' It is not onr first meeting,' said her Grace ; ' bat th&t you cannot remember.'
' Indeed I do,' said Lothair, ' and your Ghraoe gave me a golden heart.'
' How can yon remember such things,' exclaimed tho Dachess, ' which I had myself forgotten I '
' I have rather a good memory,' replied Lothair ; ' and It is not wonderful that I should remember this, for it is the only present that ever was made me.'
The evenings at Brentham were shorty but they were sweet. It was a musical family, without being fanatical on tho subject. There was always music, but it was not permitted that the guests should be deprived of other amusements. But music was the basis of the evening's campaign. The Duke himself sometimes took a second ; the four married daughters warbled sweetly ; but the great performer was Lady Corisande. When her impassioned tones sounded, there was a hushed silence in every cham- ber ; otherwise, many things were said and done amid accompanying melodies that animated without distracting even a whistplayer. The Duke himself rather preferred a game of piquet or ^carte with Captain Mi Id may, and some- times retired with a troop to a distant but still visible apartment, where they played with billiard balls games which were not billiards.
The ladies had retired, the Duko had taken his glass of seltzer water, and had disappeared. The gentlemen lingered and looked at each other, as if they were an assembly of poachers gathering for an expedition, and then Lord St. Aldegonde, tall, fair, and languid, said to Lothair, ' Do yoa fixnoke P '
■•Kb!*
'I slunld fa&re Uionght Bertram would bavs sednced
yon by Uiia time. Then let na try. llontairy wiD give yoD one of his cigarettes, bo mild tli&t Lib wife never finds a oat.'
^dozf
CHAPTEB rV.
brcok&Bbroom at Brentham was very brigbt. It garden of its own, wiiicb, at this Ecason, waa BO glowing, and cnltarod into patterns so fanciful and finished, that it had the rGsemblaJicQ of a, vast mosaic. The walla of the chamber were covered with bright draw- inga and ahetchea of our modem masters, and frames of interesting miniaturea, and the meal was served on hall'-a- ■ more round tables, which vied with each other in d merriment ; brilliant as a clnster of Greek or epablics, instead of a great metropolitan table, Hlca central government absorbing all the genins and re- MurceB of the Boeiety.
Every scene in this bfe at Brentham charmed Lothair,
who, bhongh not consciouB of being of a particnlarly
loomy temper, often felt that he had, somehow or other,
itherto passed through life rarely with pleasare, and
with joy.
After breakfast the ladies retired to their moming-room,
the gentlemen strolled to the stables, Lord St. Alde-
ide lighting a Manilla cheroot of enormous length. As
itbair was very fond of horses, this delighted tiii^. The
•tablea at Brentham were rather too far from the house,
but they were cagnificent, and tho stnd worthy of them.
irons and choice, and, above all, it was nseful.
could supply a readier number of capital riding horses
any stable in England. Brentham was a great riding
lo LOTH AIR.
family. lu the summer season the Dnke deh'ghted to head a nnmerons troop, penetrate far into the country, and scamper home to a nine o'clock dinner. All the ladies of the house were fond and fine horsewomen. The mount of one of these riding parties was magical. The dames and damsels vaulted on their barbs, and genets, and thorough- bred hacks, with such airy majesty ; they were absolutely overwhelming with their bewildering habits and their be- witching hats.
Everything was so new in this life at Brentham to Lothair, as well as so agreeable, that the first days passed by no means rapidly ; for, though it sounds strange, time moves with equal slowness whether we experience many impressions or none. In a new circle every character is a study, and every incident an adventure ; and the multi- plicity of the images and emotions restrains the hours. But after a few days, though Lothair was not less de- lighted, for he was more so, he was astonished at the rs^idity of time. The life was exactly the same, but equally pleasant ; the same charming companions, the same refined festivity, the same fascinating amusements ; but to his dismay Lothair recollected that nearly a fortnight had elapsed since his arrival. Lord St. Aldegonde also was on the wing ; he was obliged to go to Cowes to see a sick friend, though he considerately left Bertha behind liim. The other son-in-law remained, for he could not tear himself away from his wife. He was so distractedly fond of Lady Montairy that he would only smoke cigarettes. Lothair felt it was time to go, and he broke the circumstance to his friend Bertram.
These two * old fellows,' as they mutually described each other, could not at all agree as to the course to be pursued. Bertram looked upon Lothair's suggestion as an act of desertion from himself. At their time of life, the claims of friendship are paramount. And where could Lothair go
LOTUMR. II
And whflt was tliere to do ? Nowlicre, and notUinff.
Iiereafi, if lie ivonld remain a little longer, as tlie Dnke
Epectod and also t!ie Duchess, Bertnun. would go with
uiywhere he liked, and do anything he chose. So
jothair remained.
In the evening', sealed by Lady Montairy, Lothair ob- served on her sister's singing, and said, ' I never heard any of OQT great eingera, bnt I cannot believe there ia a finer voice in existence.'
' Corisande's is a. fine voice,' eaid Lady Montaiiy, ' bnt I idmiro her expression more than her tone j for there ara inly many finer voices, and soma day you wiU heai
'Bnt 1 prefer expression,' said Lothair very decidedly. ' Ah, yes 1 donbtless,' aaid Lady Montairy, who wks working a pnrsc, ' and that is what we rJI want, I believe ; Kt least we matried daughters, they say. My brother, Granville St. Aldegonde, says we are all too mncli alike, Bnd that Bertha St. Aldegonde wonld be perfect if she had no sistera.'
' I do not at all agree with Lord St. Aldegonde,' said. Lothair with energy. 'I do not think it is possible to have too many relatives like yon and your siatera.'
Lady Montairy looked up with a eniile, but slie did not
meet a smiling cOQnt«nanco. Ho seemed what is called
an earnest young man, this friend of her brother Bertram.
^_ At ttia moment the Duke sent ewifl messengers for all
^Htt come, even the Duchess, to partake in a new game
^Hfart arrived from Russia, some miracnloua combination
^^■t billiard-balls. Some rose directly, some lingering a
' momont arranging their work, bnt all were in motion.
Corisandfl was at the piano, and disencumbering lier-
J__«Blf of some music. Lothair went op to her rather
" raptly:
'Your singing,' lie said, ' is the finest thing I ever heavd.
m<*'.
12 LOTH AIR.
I am so happj that I am not going to leave Brentham to- morrow. There is no place in the world that I think equal to Brentham.'
* And I love it too, and no other place,' she replied ; ' and I should be quite happj if I never left it.'
CHAPTER V.
Lord Moittaist was passionately devoted to croquet. He flattered himself that he was the most accomplished male performer existing. He would have thought absolut'Olj the most accomplished, were it not for the unrivalled feats of Lady Montairy. She was the queen of croquet. Her sisters also used the mallet with admirable skill, but not like Victoria. Lord Montairy always looked forvrard to bis summer croquet at Brentham. It was a great croquet family, the Brentham family ; even listless Lord St. Alde- gonde would sometimes play, with a cigar never out of his mouth. They did not object to his smoking in the air. On the contrary, ' they rather liked it.' Captain Mildmay, too, was a brilliant hand, and had written a treatise on croquet, the best going.
There was a great oroquSt pariy one morning at Brent- ham. Some neighbours had been invited who loved the sport. Mr. Blenkinsop, a grave young gentleman, whose countenance never relaxed while he played, and who was understood to give his mind entirely up to croquet. He was the owner of the largest estate in the county, and it was thought would very willingly have allied himself with one of the young ladies of the House of Brentham ; but these flowers were always plucked so quickly, that his relations with the distinguished circle never grew more intimate than croquet. He drove over with some fine
LOTH AIR.
tj
horses imd neveral casea and bags coataituiig iiiBtrniiiiMils and weapons for tlie fray. His sister eame with him, who hod forty thousaod poimda, bat, they said, in Bome myate- rions manner dependent on hLs consent to her marriage j and it was added that Mr, Blenkinsop wonld not allow his sistor to marry becansc be would misa her so much in his favourite pastime. There were some other morning visitors, and one or two young cnraten in casBocks.
It seemed to Lothair a game of great dehberation and of raore interest than giuety, though sometimes a cardial cheer, and sometimes a ringing laugh of amiable derision, notified a signal triumph or a disastrous failure. Bnt the ecene was briUiant: a marvellous lawn, the Dncbess'a Turkish t«nt with its rich hangings, and the players them' selves, the prettie.st of aU the spectacle, with their coquet- tish hati?, and their half-veiled and half-rovcaled undor- Tsiment, scarlet and silver, or blue and gold, made np n sparkling and modish scene.
Lothair, who had leil the players for awhile and was regaining the lawn, mot the Duchess.
' Yonr Grace is not going to leave oa, I hope 7 ' he said, rather anxiously.
' For a moment. I have long promised to visit the new dairy ; and I think this a good opportunity.'
' Uigbt I bo your companion ? ' said Lothair.
They turned into a winding walk of thick and fragrant shraba, and, after a while, they approached a dell, snr- ronnded with high trees that enveloped it with perpetual shade ; in the centre of the dell was apparently a Gothio shrine, fair in deat^ and finished in execution, and this WM the Dnchesa'a new dairy. A pretty sight is a. first- rato dairy, with its flooring of fancifLil tiles, and its cool and ahrondcd chambers, its stained windows and ita marble alabs, and porcelain pans of crcftm, and plentcoue platters of fantoatically formed butter.
14 LOTH AIR.
*Mr8. Woods and her dairymaidfl look like a Datch picture,' said the Duchess. ' Were you ever in Holland P '
' I have never been anywhere/ said Lothair.
' You should travel,' said the Duchess.
' I have no wish,' said Lothair.
^ The Duke has given me some Coreean fowls,' said the Duchess to Mrs. Woods, when they had concluded their visit. ' Do you think you could take care of them for me ?'
* Well, Grrace, I am sure I will do my best ; but then they are very troublesome, and I was not fortunate with my Cochin. I had rather they were sent to the aviary, Gi*ace, if it were all the same.'
* I should like to see the aviary,' said Lothair.
* Well, we will go.'
And this rather extended their walk, and withdrew them more from the amusement of the day.
' I wish you would do me a great favour,' said Lothair, abruptly breaking a rather prolonged silence.
' And what is that ? ' said the Duchess.
' It is a very great favour,' repeated Lothair.
' If it be in my power to grant it, its magnitude would only be an additional recommendation.'
* Well,' said Lothair, blushing deeply, and speaking with much agitation, ' I would ask your Grace's permission to offer my hand to your daughter.'
The Duchess looked amazed. * Corisande ! ' she ex- claimed.
* Yes, to Lady Corisande.
* Corisande,' replied the Duchess, after a pause, ' has absolutely not yet entered the world. Corisande is a child ; and you, you, my dear friend ; I am sure you will pardon me if I say so, you are not very much older than Corisande,'
* I have no wish to enter the world,' said Lothair, with much decision*
LOTIIAIK. i;
'I aia not an enemy to youtkful marriages,' eaid the Dacliess. ' I married early myself, and my children mar- ried early ; and I am very happy, Eind 1 hope thiy are ; bot some oxpenence of society before we settle is most rable, and is one of the conditions I duinot but b&-
na of that felicity nUich we aU seek.' \ ' I hate society,' said Lothair. ' I would never go ont of ■y domestic circle Lf it were the circle I contemplate.'
' Uy dear young friend,' said the Dacheas, ' yon coold
iiily have Gcen enough of society to speak with so mncli
cisioD.'
' I Lave seen quite enoagb of it,' said Lothair. ' I went to an evening party last season ; I came up from ChriBt- chnrch on porpose for it, and if ever they catch me at »nother, they shall inflict any penaJty they please.'
' I fear it was ii stupid party,' said the Duchess, smiling, *ad glud to turn, if possible, t!ie conversation into a light«F
a very grand party, I believe, and not [y Btopid ; it was not that ; but I was disgusted with I saw and all I heard. It seemed to me a mass of aSeo< Jon, falsehood, and malice.' Oh ! dear,' said the Duchess, ' how very dreadful ! Bat did not niean merely going to parties for society ; I ,t knowledge of the world, and that experience whloh kbies us to form sound opinions ou the afl'airs of Ufa.' Ob ! aa fur that,' said Lothair, ' my opinions are already formed on eveiy subject; that is to say, every subject of importance ; and, what is more, they will never change.* 1 coald not sny that of Corisiuide,' said tbe Duchegs. I think wc agree on all the great things,' said Lothair, igly. *Rcr Church views may be a little higher than bat I do not antioipate any permanent difhculty on Uutt head. Although my uncle made me go to kirk, I ■JmyB hated it, and always considered myself a cburoh-
•lo
P- •v'^M
t^ LOTHAIR.
mas. Tlum, m to eiiixrciMs theouelvies, siie s in &voiir of KoiUiiTsg ehixrch«iy snd to am I ; and schools, there s no nnmh^r of iiehooli I would not establiah. Mj opmion m^ jfM amrmrit htkve too rnoch edncatkm, prcmded it be fbnnded OA a Pftli^ipniiJi hamn, I would looner renonnoe the whole of my inh^rifAnce than eonaent to secular edncation.'
* I should be sorrj to see anj edncmtioii but % religions •dncatmn,' remarked the Dachesa.
* Wen, then/ said Lothair, * that is otxt life, or a great part €X it. To complete it, there is that to which I reallj wish to derote mj existence, and in which I instinctiTelj fr<el liadj Corisande would sympathise with me, the ex- tinction of panperism.'
' That is a vast subject,' said the Duchess.
' It is the terror of Europe, and the disgrace of Britain,' said Lothair ; ' and I am resolved to grapple with it. It seems to me that pauperism is not an affair so much of wages as of dwellings. If the working classes were pro- perly lodged, at their present rate of wages, they woxdd be richer. They would be healthier and happier at the same cost. I am so convinced of this, that the moment I am master I shall build 2,000 cottages on my estates. I have the designs all ready.'
' I am much in favour of improved dwellings for the poor,' said the Duchess ; ' but then you must take care that your dwellings are cottages, and not villas like my cousin's, the Duke of Luton.'
'I do not think I shall make that mistake,' replied Ii(>thair. ' It constantly engages my thought. I am weaned of hearing of my wealth, and I am conscious it has never brought me any happiness. I have lived a great deal alone, deM-est Duchess, and thought much of these things, but I feel now I should be hardly equal to the ellbri, unless I had a happy home to fall back upon.'
* A.nd you will have a happy home in due time,' said the
LOTH AIR.
__>2
ichoas; 'and with Bucb good and g;reut thonghti you deaenre one. Hut take the advice of one who loved yonr mother, and who would extend to yon the same affection fta to her own children : before you take a step which can- not be recalled, aee a little more of the world.'
Lothair shook bia head. 'No,' he said, ailor a pause. ' My idea of perfect BOcicty is being married as 1 propoae, paying visits to Brentham ; and when the viaite to itbam ceased, then I should like you and the Duke to visits to as.' Bat that woqM be a fairy tale,' said the Dnahesa. So tlicy walked on in silence.
Suddenly and abmptiy Lothair turned to the DucheaB and said, ' Does your Grace Bce any objection to my spealc- iug to yonr daughter ? '
* Dear &-iend, indeed yes, What you wonld aay would fmly agitate and disturb Corisando. Her character is not formeit, and its future is pei^ilexing, at least to rae,' inred tlie mother. ' She has not tho simple nature of t is a deeper and more complicated mind, and .t«h its development with fond but anxious interest.' a lighter tone she added, ' Ton do not know very \h of OB. Try to know more. Everybody under thU views yon with regard, and yon are the brother fjicnd onr eldnst son. Wherever wo nro, you will always find but do not touch again upon this subject, at Ina^t pnwent, for it distresses me.' And then she took his and pressed it, and by this time they had gained the ia£t ground.
r^-
48 LOTH AIR,
CHAPTER VI
One of the least known squares in London is Hexham Square, though it is one of the oldest. Not that it is vorr remote from the throng of existence, but it is isolated in a dingy district of silent and decaying streets. Once it wi a a favoured residence of opulence and power, and its archi- tecture still indicates its former and prouder destiny. But its noble mansions are now divided and broken up into separate dwellings, or have been converted into chambers and offices. Lawyers, and architects, and agents dweU in apartments where the richly-sculptured chimneypieces, the carved and gilded pediments over the doors, and some- times even the painted ceilings, tell a tale of vanished stateliness and splendour.
A considerable portion of the north side of the square is occupied by one house standing in a courtyard, with iron gates to the thoroughfare. This is Hexham House, and where Lord Hexham lived in the days of the first Greorgee It is reduced in size since his time, two considerable wings having been pulled down about sixty years ago, and their materials employed in building some residences of less pretension. But the body of the dwelling-house remains, and the courtyard, though reduced in size, has been re- tained.
Hexham House has an old oak entrance hall panelled with delicacy, and which has escaped the rifling arts of speculators in furniture ; and out of it rises a staircase of the same material, of a noble character, adorned occasion, ally with figures ; armorial animals holding shields, and sometimes a grotesque form rising from fruits and flowers, all doubtless the work of some famous carver. The stair- case leads to a corridor, on which several doors open, and throue:h one of these, at the moment of our history, a man.
a dork casaook and UoMiDg n card in his hand, was entering a spacious cbamtx'i', meagerlj, boL not aliab- bily, furnished. There was a rich cjvbinet and a fine picture. In the next room, not less ejiocioaa, but vhiuh had a more inhabited look, a cheerfo] lire, Libles covered witli booica and papers, and tvfo individnale busily at work with their gH-'UB, he g:ire the card to a gentleman whu wore also the casaock. and whu stood before the fire with a book in his band, and apparently dictating to one of tlio writers.
' ImpOBsible !' said the gentleman, shaking his bead; ' I oould not «vou go in, as Uonsignore Berwick ia with Uia Kmineccc.'
"But what shall I do?' Buid the attendant; 'his inence suid that when Mr. Giles called he never waa to • denied-'
I ' The Blonsignore has been here a long time ; you most { Mr. Gilca to wait. Klako bini comfiirlable ; give him ■newspaper; not the " Tail let," the "Times;" men like |r. Giles love reading the advet-tisemeDts. Or stop, give a this, his Eminence's lecture on geology ; it will lihow Q the Church has no fear of science. Ah ! there 's my !, Mr. Giles will not hare to wait long.' So Kkying, the Iptleman pnt down bis volume and disappeared through k antechambtTr into a further apartment.
I library, of moderate dimensions, and yet its [l-GUed shelves contained all the weapons of learning uid controver8y which the deepest and the most active of ecclesiastical champions coold require. It was unlike modern libraries, for it was one in which fohos greatly predominated ; and tbey stood In solemn and sometimes inagnifieent array, for they bore, many of them, on theit ancjent thoogb costly bindings the pi'oofa that they bad to many a prince and even aove reign of theChnrch. mantelpiece hung a portjuit of Lia HoUnoe^
20 LOTH AIR,
Kins LX., and on the table, in the midst of many papers^ was an ivory cmcifix.
The master of the library had risen from his seat when the chief secretary entered, and was receiving an obeisance. Above the middle height, his stature seemed magnified by the attenuation of his form. It seemed that the soul never had so frail and fragile a tenement. He was dressed in a dark cassock with a red border, and wore scarlet stockings ; and over his cassock a purple tippet, and on his breast a small golden cross. His countenance was naturally of an extreme pallor, though at this moment slightly flushed with the animation of a deeply interesting conference. His cheeks were hollow, and his grey eyes seemed sunk into his clear and noble brow, but thoy flashed with irresistible [)enetration. Such was Cardinal Grandison.
'AD that I can do is,' said his Eminence, when Lis visitor was ushered out, and slightly shrugging his shoulders, ' is to get it postponed until I go to Rome, and even then I must not delay my visit. This crossing the Alps in winter is a trial ; but we must never repine, and there is nothing which we must not encounter to prevent incalculable mis- chief. The publication of the Scotch hierarchy at this moment will destroy the labours of years. And yet they will not see it ! I cannot conceive who is urging them, for I am sure they must have some authority frt)m home. You have something for me, Chidiock,' he added, en- quiringly, for his keen eye caught the card.
• I regret to trouble your Eminence when you need repose, but the bearer of this card seems to have been importunate and to have appealed to your name and per- sonal orders ; ' and he gave the Cardinal the card.
^ Yes,' said the Cardinal looking at the card with much interest ; * this is a person I must always see.'
And so in due course they ushered into the library a gentleman with a crimson and wcU-stufled bacc, of a com-
LOTIIAIR- 31
posed yet cheerful osjiect, who mlilresBcd the CarJmal with retipect hot -mthoat einbarrESHment, Baying, ' I am ashamed to tronble your Eminence with only matters of form, ftbao- lai«]y mere matters of form ; bat I obey, air, your own
' It ia not for me to deprociftta form,' rejilied the Car- dinal J ' and in hnsineRS there are do mere matters of form '
' Merely the wood accounts,' continued the visitor ; ' they mnst be approved by both the gnardiana, or the money mnnot be received by the bankers. Tonr Eminence, yon Bee, has sanctioned the felting, and antliorized the Bales, and these are the final accounts, which mast be Bigned before we pay in."
'Give tbem to me,' said the Cardinal, Htretcbing ont both bis bands as he received a mnss of paper folios. Hia Eminence resumed his chair, and hastily eiamined the Hheote. ' Ah ! ' he said, ' no ordinary felling ; it reaches over seven coantics. By tbe bye, Bracewood Forest j what abont the enclosure? I have heard no more of it.' Then, murmuring to himfielf, ' Grentham Wood ; how woU 1 remember Grentham Wood, with bis dear father ! '
' If wc oonld sign to-day,' said the visitor in a tone of professional cajolery : ' time is important.'
'And it eliall not be waited,' replied the Cardinal. 'Bat
tmnst look over the accounts. I donbt not all is quite pilar, bot I wish to make myself & little familiar witli t scene of action ; perbaps to recall the past,' he added. 'ou shall have them to-morrow, Mr. Giles.' ' Yonr Eminence will have very different accounts to He in a sliart time,' said Mr. Giles, smiling. ' Wo are ni nt work ; it takes throe of our clerks constantly ocx-opied.'
' But you have yet got time.'
' I don't know that,' siud Mr, Gil<
' The affairs e
' large.
ud the
I tlioy give us tho greatest
r^>
22 LOTH AIR.
trouble. Our Mr. James Roundell was two montbs in Wales last year about them. It took up the whole of hia vacation. And jour Eminence must remember that time flies. In less than eight months he will be of age.'
* Very true,* said the Cardinal ; * time indeed flies, and so much to be done ! By the bye, ^f r. Giles, have you by any chance heard anything lately of my child ? *
* I have heard of him a good deal of late, for a client of ours, Lord Montairy, met him at Brentham this summer, And was a long time there with him. Afler that, I hear, he went deer-stalking with some of his young friends ; bat lie is not very fond of Scotland ; had rather too much of it, I suspect ; but the truth is, sir, I saw him this very day.'
* Indeed ! '
* Some affairs have brought him up to town, and I rather doubt whether he will return to Oxford ; at least, 80 he talks.'
* Ah ! I have never seen him since he was an infant, I might say,' said the Cardinal. ' I suppose I shall see him again, if only when I resign my trust ; but I know not. And yet few things would be more interesting to me than to meet him ! *
Mr. Giles seemed moved, for him almost a little embar- ra.ssed ; he seemed to blush, and then he cleared his throat. * It would be too great a liberty,* said Mr. Giles, * I feel that 7ery much ; and yet, if your Eminence would con- descend, though I hardly suppose it possible, his Lordship is really going to do us the honour of dining with us to- day ; only a few friends, and if your Eminence could make the sacrifice, and it were not an act of too great presump. tion to ask your Eminence to join our party.'
* I never eat and I never drink,* said the Cardinal. * 1 am sorry to say I cannot. I like dinner society very much. You see the world, and you hear things which you do not hear otherwise. For a time I presumed to accept invito^
LOTHAIR. 13
ions, though I sat with an empty plate; but IhoogV. the world was indalgent to me, I folt that my habits were an tonbarr&SHment tx> the happier fenst«rs : it was not fair, and so I gave it op. But 1 tell you wlmt, Mr. Giks : I ehaJl be in your quarter this evening ; perhaps yon wonld permit me to drop in and pay my respects to Mrs. Gilea : I havp wiahed to do bo before.'
b
CHAPTER VTL
Mb. Gilrb whh a leading partner in the firm of RonndellB,
Giles, and Ronndidl, amiing the most eminent Eolicitors of
inooln's Inu. He, in tbefle days of prolonged maturity,
ilght be described aa etill a yoniig man. He had in-
rited &om bis father a large share in a first-mt« hnsiness,
ttd no inconsiderable fortune ; and he had a wife, cele-
nted in ber circle, bnt no t:bildren. He was opnlcnt and
Dsperons, with no cares and anxieties of hia own, and
d hia profession, for wliich he was pecnliarly qnabfied,
an of oncommoQ sagacity, very difficult to deceive.
Hid yet one who sympathised with hia olients, who were
I pGraonally attached to him, and many of whom were
mong the distiiigniBhrd personages of the realiTi.
Daring an important professional visit to Ireland, Mr.
Oil us had made the aeqnaintance of Mins ApoUonie.
Smylie. the nieee of an Irish peer ; and thongh the lady
wu much admired and courted, had anccoedod, after a
n inducing her to btwome the partner of his life.
L Ure. Giles, or as she described hereulf Mrs. Pntnfiy Giles,
ing advantage nf n second and t^rritoi'i.il Chvistinn
me of ber hnaband, wua a sbowy woman ; decidedly
idsome, unquestionably accomplished, and gifted witb
and enthnaiasm which far exceeded eren her
a^ LOTBAIR.
phjsinl AJTftiiteges. Her piuici|wl miMion waa to de- ttmj the I^pacy and to atotre Italian nnily. Uer leaser uupaJsea wera to beram* actpninted with the aristocr»cf , and to be lieraelf aamMuided by celebrities. Hftving a fine bouse in l^bnnua, almost as showy as herself, and a has- baud who waa never so ^ppy aa when gratifying her wishes, she did not find it difficult in a coostdcrable degrev to pursue and ereti accomplish faer objects. The Patney Giles gave a great Diany dinners, and Urs. Putney rec^ved faer world troqaeotly.ifacFt periodically. Astheyeutert^aed witb prafnuon, her well-lighted aaloona wera oonffldcraUtf attended. These asaenUies wct« never doll ; tbe materialB not beii^ ordinary, often startling sometimea even fari)> liant, occasionally rather beterog^neoos. For thoagh being a violent Proteetant and of extreme conservative opioioca, her antipapal antipatliiea and her Italian predilootionB tn- qaently involved ber with acqnaintancea not so dia- tingnished as she deemed herself for devotion to the caoM of order aud orthodoxy. It waa mmonred tliat the brood- ing brow of Mauini had been observed in her rooms, and there was no sort of qneetion that she bad thrown heraelf in ecstatic idolatry at the feet of the hero of Caprera.
On the morning of the day on which he intended to visit Cardinal Grandison, Mr, Giles, in his chambers at Lincoln's Inn, was suddenly apprised by a clerk, that an interview with him waa songht bya chent no less distinguished than Lothair.
Although Ur. Giles sat opposite two rows of tin boxes, each of which was nombered, and dnly inscribed with tfaa name of Lothair and that of the particular estate to whioh It referred, Mr. Giles, though he had had occasional com- mnnieations with his chent, was pta-sonally unacquainted with liim. He viewed therefore with no ordinary curiositT the young man who was nshcred into Lis room; a shapely youth above tbe middle height, of simple bnt dia- tingnisbed mien, with a conntenanoe naturally pale, tbongb
iwliat bronzed bj a liTe of air &iid exerciBD, and n, pro- dork anbiini bair. And for what conld Lothiiir be calling on Mr. Giles ? It sooma tbat one of Lotbair's intimal« companions had ^^gi>t into a ecmpo, and nnder these circnmstaDCca had what ^Kp styled 'mado a &iend' of Lothair; that Js to say, con- ^Hjded to liim bis trouble, and asked bia advice, with a view, ^^■llen ^ren, of its being followed hy an oSer of assiHtancc. ^^K Lothair, though inexperienced and very ingcnnoaa, waa ^^Bt devoid of a certain instinctive perception of men and ^^BpngB, which rendered it difficult for him to bo an easy ftvj. His natural disposition, and his comparatively soli- tary odacation, had made him a keen observer, and be was cue who meditated over his observations. Bab he was natnrallj- generone and eenaihlo of kindness ; and this waa n fivvourite companion, next to Berti'am hia most intimate.
Lotliair was qait« happy in tlie opportunity of soothing B perturbed spirit whose society had been to him a source vf so mneh gratification.
It wftfl not until Ix'thair had promised to extricate his friend frora hia overwhelming difficulties, that, upon reflec- tion and examination, be found the act on his part was not BO simple and so easy as he had assumed it to be. Hia guardians had apportioned to him an allowance in every aense adeqntite to hia position ; and tlicre was no doubt, hnd he wished to exceed it for any legitimata purpose, not the slightest difficulty on their part would have been experienced.
Such a conjuncture had never occurred. Lothair waa profnse, bnt he waa not prodigal. He gratified all hia laocies, but they were not ignoble ones ; sod he was not only sentimentalJy, but systematically, charitable. He hud a f^reat number of fine horses, and he had just paid for an expeoaive yacht. In a word, bo spent a great deal of money, and until he called at his bankers t/i learn whal
26 LOTH AIR.
sums were at his disposition he was noi aware that he bad overdrawn his account.
This was rather awkward. Lothair wanted a consider- able sum, and he wanted it at once. Irrespective of the consequent delay, he phrunk from any communication with hLs guardians. From his uncle he had become, almost in- sensibly, estranged, and with his other guardian he had never had the slightest communication. Under these cir- cumstances he recalled the name of the solicitor of the trustees, between whom and himself there had been occa- sional correspondence ; and being of a somewhat impetuous disposition, he rode off at once fi'om his hotel to Lincoln's Inn.
Mr. Giles listened to the nan<ative with unbroken in- terest and unswerving patience, with his eyes fixed on hia client, and occasionally giving a sympathetic nod.
' And so,* concluded Lothair, ' I thought I would oome to you.'
* We are honoured,' said Mr. Giles. * And certainly it is quite absurd that your Lordship should want money, and for a worthy purpose, and not be able to command it. Why ! the balance in the name of the trustees never was so great as at this moment ; and this very day, or to-morrow at furthest, I shall pay no less than eight-and- thirty thousand pounds timber money to the account.'
* Well, I don't want a fiflh of that,* said Lothair.
* Your Lordship has an objection to apply to the trustees ? ' enquired Mr. Giles.
* That is the point of the whole of my statement,' said Lothair, somewhat impatiently.
'And yet it is the right and regular thing,' said Mr. Giles.
* It may be right and it may be regular, but it is out of the question.'
* Then we will say no more about it. Wliat I want to
LOTH AIR.
27
^ *tely ;
mii Mr. Giles, mi]§ingly, 'ia anytliing absard liappeniag. Tliero is no doobt if yonr Lordship went into tho atreet and said yon wanted ten thnUKacd pounds, or a hundred thousand, fifty people wotild supply jou uninedi- «tcly 1 tint yoa nonid have to pay for it. Some enorraous Tliat would be bad \ but the absurdity of the ig wooJd be greatiCr than tbe mischief. Konndclla, Qilee, and Ronndell oonld not help you in tbut manner. That 18 not oar busiueBS. We are glad to find money for onr cUenta at a h}pi\ rate of intereRt, and the most moderate rate feasible. But then there must be set-urity, and tbe beat security. Bnt here we must not eoncL-ul it from our. Belvea, my Lord, we have no security whatever. At tliia moment your Lordship has no property. An inHixranoe ght do it with a policy. They might consider that ly had a moral eecurily; bnt stilt it woald be abaard. !re is something abetird in yoar Lordship having to raise Don't yoa think I could see these people,' said ■. Giles, 'and (aII: to tbem, and gsin a little time. We .t a little time.'
eaid Lothair, in a peremptory tone. ' I said I 3 it, and it must be done, and at once. Sooner tliere sbonld be delay, I nould rather go into the nggpst, and HKk the first man I met to lend the money. My word has been given, and I do not whut I pay to fulfil ray word.' Wb must not think of such things,* said Mr. Giles, ing his head. ' All I want your Lordship to understand tbe exact position. In this case we have no secnrity, .ndclls, Gi!es, and Roundell cannot move without ■ecority. It would be against oar articles of partnership. Bat Mr. Giles, as a private individual, mity do what he likea. I will let your Lordship have tbe money, and 1 will takv DO eecnrity whatever, not even a note ot hand. All that I will ask for is that your Lordfihip should writ« me a
2$ LOTHAIR.
lett^ njuig Tcm bave ni^i^exit need for m sura of money (Tnendoning mmonnt) for an hononrable pnrpose, in which TOUT feelings are deeply interested ; and that will do. If anyihin^: happens to toot Lordship before this time next rear, whv, I think the tmstees could hardly refnse repay- ini: the money ; and if they did, why then,* added Mr. Giles, * I suppose it will be all the same a hundred years hence.'
' Yon have conferred on me the greatest obligation,* said Lothair, with much earnestness. * Language cannot ex- press what I feeL I am not too much used to kindnesa, and I only hope that I may lire to show my sense of yours.*
* It is really no great affair, my Lord,' said Mr. Giles. * I did not wish to make difficulties, but it was my duty to put the matter clearly before yon. What I propose to do is really nothing. I could do no less; I should have felt quite absurd if your Lordship had gone into the money market.'
* I only hope,' repcat<>d Lot hair, rising and offering Mr. Giles his hanil, * that life may give me some occasion to prove my gratitude.'
* Well, my Lonl,' replied Mr. Giles, * if your Lordship wish to repay me for any little interest I have shown in your affairs, you can do that, over and over again, and at once.'
* How so ? *
* By a very great favour, by which Mrs. Giles and myself would be deeply gratified. We have a few friends who honour us by dining with us to-day in Hyde Park Gardens. If your Lordship would add the great distinc- tion of your presence '
*I should only be too much honoured,* exclaimed Lotliair ; ' I suppose alxMit eight ;' and he left the room ; and Mr. Giles telegraphed instantly the impending eMent to ApoUonia.
vaB a great day for Apollonia ; not onlj to have LotliaJr her right hand at dinner, but the prospect of n Cardmal m tbo evening. But she was equal to it ; thoagh 60 engroaacd, indec<l, in the immediato gratification of her hopoB find wishes, that Bho could Bcarcely dwell suffi- ciently on the coming sccoe of triamph and BocinJ es- citcment.
The repast was Bncnptuoua; Lothair thought the dinner would never end, there were ao many dishes, and apparently all of the highest pretension. But if bis eimple tostca had permitted him to take an interest in these details, which tfaey did not, he would have been assisted by a splendid iQ of gold and white typography, that waa by the side «aoh gQOst. The table seemed literally to groan under and gignntie flagons, and, in its midst, rose a moun- tain of silver, on which apparently all the cardinal virtues, several of tlie pa^n deities, and Britannia herself, illus- tml«d with many lights a glowing inscription which described the fuTvent feelings of a grateful client.
Tht-ro were many gneats : the Dowager of Farringford, a lady of quality, Apollonia'a great laily, who exercised under lliis roof ranch social tyrsjiny ; in short, was rather fine ; bat who, on this occasion, was sorai-wliat cowed by the undreamt-of presence of Ixithair. She had not yet met him, and probably never would have met liini, bad she not had the good fortune of dining at his lawyer's. How- ever, Lady FarriugTord was placed a long way from Lotbair, baring been taken down to dinner by Mr. Giles, and so, by the end of the first conrae, Lady Farriugrord had nearly reaumed her cnstomary despotiD rein, and was beginning
i
30 LOTHAIR.
to indulge in several kind observational, cheapening her host and hostess and indirectly exalting herself; upon which Mr. Giles took an early easy opportunity of ap- prising Lady Farringford that she had nearly met Cardinal Grandison at dinner, and that his Eminence would cer- tainly pay his respects to Mrs. Putney Giles in the evening. As Lady Farringford was at present a high ritualist, and had even been talked of as * going to Rome,' this in- telligence was stunning, and it was observed that her Ladyship was unusually subdued during the whole of the second course.
On the right of Lothair sate the wife of a Vice>Ghan- oellor, a quiet and pleasing lady, to whom Lothair, with natural good bi'oeding, paid snatches of happy attention, when he could for a moment with propriety withdraw him> self from the blaze of Apollonia*s coruscating conversation. Then there was a rather fierce-looking Red Ribbon, medal- led as well as be-starrcd, and the Red Ribbon's wife, with a blushing daughter, in spite of her parentage not yet accustomed to stand fire. A partner and his unusually numerous family had the pleasure also of seeing Lothair for the first time, and there were no less than four M.P.'s, one of whom was even in office.
ApoUonia was stating to Lothair, with brilliant perspi- cuity, the reasons which quite induced her to believe that the Gulf Stream had changed its course, and the political and social consequences that might accrue.
* The religious sentiment of the Southern races must be wonderfully aficctcd by a more rigorous climate,' said Apollonia. ' I cannot doubt,' she continued, * that a series of severe winters at Rome might put an end to Romanism.'
' But is there any fear that a reciprocal influence might be exercised on the INorthem nations P ' enquired Lothair. ' Would there be any apprehension of our Protestantrsm becoming propoiiionately relaxed P '
*(Jf course not,' said ApoUonia.
' Tmtb cannot be te in FalcstinQ and
climtite. TraLh u ScaDdinavia.'
' I wonder wbul, the Cardinal would think of this,' said
Lolliair, ' who, jou tell ma, la coming to you tbia evening.'
' Yea, I ma most iuterested to see him, though lie ia the
moBt [luiBSujit of our foes. Of courso ho would bike refoge
in sophiittrj ; and soienee, yon know, they deny.'
'Cardinal Grandison i§ giving Bome lectures on scionco,' ■aid the Vice- Chancel I oi-' 3 lady, quietly.
' It ia remorse," said Apollonia, ' Their clever men can never forget thiit unlortnnate afialr of Galileo, and think ihej caji divert the ijidignation of the nineteenth centniy by mock zeal a'lout red sandstone or the origin of species.* 'And are you afraid of the Gulf Stream?' eaqaired Lotbair of his cijmer neighbour,
' I Ibink we want mom evidence of a change. The Ificn- Chance II or and 1 went down to a place we bave near I on Saturday, where there is a very nice piece of ■kter; indeed, some people call it a lake; it WLts quite in, and my boys wanted to skate, bat that I wonld not mit'
'Ton bcliova in tlie Golf Stream to that extent,' said skating.'
\ Tbe Carviinal eame early ; the ladies bad not ]ong loft
■ dining-room. They were agitated when bis name waa
laonnced ; even ApoUoiiia's beart beat ; but then that
[gbt be wTconnted for by the inopportune recollection of
k occasioual corrospondeni-e with Caprei'a.
1 Kothing could exceed the simple suavity with which tbe
Cardinal appeared, appruuehed, and greote<l ihem. He
tWiked Apollonia for her pemusBiou to pay lus re^'jiectB to
her, which be bad long wiiibed to do ; and then they were
'esentod, and he said eica.ctly the right thing to evei^'-
ile mUGt bava heard of them all before, or recid
rw
32 LOTH AIR.
their chaiuctera in tbeir conntenanoos. In a few minutes thej were all listening to his Eminence with enchanted ease, as, sitting on the sofa by his hostess, he described to them the ambassadors who had jnst arrived from Japan, and with whom he had relations of interesting affairs. The Japanese Government had exhibited enlightened kindness to some of his poor people who had barely escaped martyr- dom. Mnch might be expected from the Mikado, evidently a man of singular penetration and elevated views ; and his GminoDce looked as if the mission to Yokohama would speedily end in an episcopal see ; but he knew where he was, and studiously avoided all controversial matter.
After all, the Mikado himself was not more remarkable than this Prince of the Church in a Tybumian drawing- room, habited in his pink cassock and cape, and waving, as he spoke, with careless grace his pink baiTetto.
The ladies thought the gentlemen rejoined them too soon ; but Mr. Giles, when he was apprised of the arrival of the Cardinal, thought it right to precipitate the symposium. With great tact, when the Cardinal rose to greet him, Mr. Giles withdrew his Eminence from those surrounding, and, after a brief interchange of whispered words, quitted him, and then brought forward and presented Lothair to the Cardinal, and left them.
' This is not the first time that we should have met,' said the Cardinal; *but my happiness is so great at this moment that, though I deplore, I will not dwell on, the past'
* I am, nevertheless, grateful to you, sir, for many ser- vices, and have more than once contemplated taking the liberty of personally assuring your eminence of my gra- titude.'
* I think we might sit down,' said the Cardinal, looking around ; and then he led Lothair into an open but interior saloon, where none were yet present, and where they seated
LOTftAIR. 33
mselres on n sofa, and were soon eogBged in BpparenQv terestin^ converse. f In the raeautune the world gradaallj filled tlie pHncipal [i of Apollonia, and when it approftched overBowing, ionaily some persons passed the line, and entered the in wbicli the Cardinal and hia waid were seated, and as if conscioas of violating some sacred place, drew Others, on tJie contmry, with ciiarser cariosity, were ^nced to invoile the chamhc^r from the mere fact that tlia a to bo seen tliere. *My gEOgrnphical instinct," said the Cardinal to Lothair, 'nasTipes me that I can regain the staircase through UicitB rooms, wilhottt rejoining Uio bnsy world ; so I shall bid yon good nighf, and even presume to give you my blesaingj' and his Eminence glided away.
When Loi-bair retnrncd to the saloon it wai so crowded
thftt be WAS not observed ; exactly what he liked ; and be
jod against the wall watching all that passed, not with-
t amasement. A lively, social parasite, who had dined
1, and bad thanked bis stars at dinner tbat fortnne had
1 be should meet Lothair, had been cmising for bis
uce ftll the time tbat Lothair had been conversing with the
dinal, and was soon at his side. ' A Btrnngo scene thin ! ' said the parasite.
• la it onusual ? ' enquired Lothair.
i*Stich a medley! How they can be got together, I pricsta and pliilosophera, legitiniists and car- lari ! Wonderful woman, Mrs. Putney Giles ! ' *Sbe i> very entertaining,' said Lotliair, 'and Bceras to
• clever.'
'Bemarltahly so,' said the parasite, who had been on the bnit of aatirising hia hostess, but, observing the c|nart«r of » wind, with rapidity went in for praise. ' An e»tra- nun. Tour Lordaliip bad a long talk with the rdinal.'
34 LOTH AIR.
* I had the honour of Bome oonyorsation with GardinBl Orandison,' said Lothair, drawing up.
* I wonder what the Cardinal would have said if he had met Mazzini here ? '
< Mazzini ! Is he here P '
' Not now ; hut I have seen him here,' said the parasite, ' and our host such a Tory ! That makes the thing so amusing;' and then the parasite went on making small personal ohservations on the surrounding scene, and every now and then telling little tales of great people with whom, it appeared, he was intimate : all concerted fire to gain the very groat social fortress he was now hesieging. The parasite was so full of himself and so anxious to display himself to advantage, that with all his practice it was some time before he perceived he did not make all the way he could wish with Lothair, who was courteous, but some- what monosyllabic and absent.
' Your Lordship is struck by that face P ' said the para- site.
Was Lothair struck by that face P And what was it ?
He had exchanged glances with that fiasco during the last ten minutes, and the mutual expression was not one of sympathy, but curiosity, blended, on the part of the fiace, with an expression, if not of disdain, of extreme reserve.
it* was the face of a matron, apparently of not many summers, for her shapely figure was still slender, though her mien was stately. But it was the countenance that had commanded the attention of Lothair: pale, but per- fectly Attic in outline, with the short upper lip and the round chin, and a profusion of dark chesnut bair bound by a Grecian fillet, and on her brow a star.
* Yes, I am struck by that face. Who is it ? *
' If your Lordship could only get a five-francpiece of the last French Republic, 1850, you would know. I dare say the moneychangers could get you one. All the artists of
LOTH AIR.
Paris, pamters, and scnlpton, and medalliBts, wore com' peting to produce a face worthy of representing " La H^ pnbliqne Cran^aise;" nobody was satiafied, when Oadina esDgbt a girl of not seventeen, and, with a literal repro- duction of nature, gained the prize with onanimity.' ■Ah!'
And though years have passed, the countenance has it changed; perhaps improved.' It ia a countenance thitt will bear, perhaps even would ,ta.nty,' said Lothair ; ' but slie is no loDger " La .bhqne fran^nise;" what ia she now ?' ■ She ia called Theodora, though married, I believe, to an Englishman, a friend of Garibaldi. Her birth unknown ; tome say an Italian, some a Pole ; all sorts of stories. But she speaks evoiy language, ia ultracosmopolitan, and baa invented a new religion.'
' Wnold yoar Lordship care to bo introduced to her ? 1 know her enough for that. Shall we go up to her ? '
* 1 have mode so many new acqaaintaucca to-daj,' stud Lothair, as it were starting from a reverie, 'and indeed hcfird so many new things, that I think I hod better say gcx>d night)' and he graciously retired.
" CSAPTEE tX.
About the same time that Ijothair had repaired to the PQHidenee of Mr. Giles, ^lonsigngre Berwick, whoae audience of the Cardinal in the morning had preceded that of the l^al adviser of the trustees, made his way towards one of the noblest mansions in St. James's Sqnare, wlicre resided Lord St. Jerome.
It xnn a mild winter ereninff ; a bttle fog still hanging
36 LOTH A JR.
al)oat, but Tanqnished by the cheerful lamps, and the voice of the muffin boll was just heard at intervals; a genial sound that calls up visions of trim and happj hearths. If we could only so contrive our lives as to go into the country for the first note of the nightingale, and return to town for the first note of the muffin bell, existence, it is humbly presumed, might be more enjoyable.
Monsignore Berwick was a young man, but looking younger from a countenance almost of childhood ; fair, with light blue eyes, and flaxen hair and delicate features. He was the last person you would have fixed upon as a bom Roman; but nature, in one of the freaks of race, had resolved that his old Scottish blood should be re- asserted, though his ancostors had sedulously blended it, for many generations, with that of the princely houses of the eternal city. The Monsignore was the greatest statesman of Rome, formed and favoured by Antonelli, and probably his successor.
The mansion of Lord St. Jerome was a real family mansion, built by his ancestors a century and a half ago, when they believed that from its central position, its happy contiguity to the Court, the senate, and the seats of Government, they at last in St. James's Square had dis- covered a site which could defy the vicissitudes of fashion, and not share the fate of their river palaces, which they had been obliged in turn to relinquish. And in a con- siderable degree they were right in their anticipation, for although they have somewhat unwisely permitted the Clubs to invade too successfally their territory, St. James's Square may be looked upon as our Faubourg St. Germain, and a great patrician residing there dwells in the heart of that fi-ee and noble life of which he ought to be a part.
A marble hall and a marble staircase, lofly chambers with silk or tapestried hangings, gilded cornices, and painted ceilings, gave a glimpse of almost Venetian splen-
LOTHAIR. 37
in our metropolitan honsee of this ags ; bat the t dwollsrs in St. James's Square had tender and in- spiring recollectioDS of iLe Adrian bride, had frolicked in St, Mark's, and gliJed in adventnrons gondolas. The ^—^nsignore was asliered into a cLumbcr bright with lights ^Kttd a blazing £re, and welcomed with extreme ixii*diality ^^n his hostess, who wos then alone. Lady St. Jerome was ^HtiU t]ie young wife of a nobleman not old. She was the danghter of a Protestant honse, but, daring a residence at Rome aller her marriage, xhe iiad reverted to the ancient fuilb, which she profeaseJ with the enthnaiaBtic convictiona of a convert. Her whole life was dedicated to the triamph of the Catholic cause ; and being a woman of considerable intelligence and of an ardent mind, she had become a reoognisod power in tlie great confederacy which baa so mach inBu-cnced the human race, and which has yet to jjlay perhaps a mighlj part in the fortunes of the world.
* I was in great hopea that the Cardinal would have met you at dinner,' said Lady St. Jerome, ' hut he wrote only this afternoon to say unexpected business would prevent him, hnt be wonld be here in the evening, though late.'
' It must be something sudden, for I was with bis Eminence thia morning, and be then contemplated oor mi-eting here.'
' Nothing from abroad F'
' I shonld think nni, or it would be known to me. There ^ig nothing new from abroad this aft-emoon : my time hiis ^Hben spent in writing, not receiving, despatches.' ^B • And aU well, I hope P '
^^H* This Scotch business places ua. So far aa Scotland ia ^^Eocerned it is quit« ripe ; but the Cardinal counsels delay ^^■D account of this country, and he has such a consummate
^^■aowlodge of England, that '
I At tJiis moment Lord St. Jerome entered the room : a
gikra bat gracious personage, polished but looking silent,
fr^
38 LOTH AIR.
ihoagh he immediately turned the oonversation to the weather. The Monsignore began denouncing English fogs ; but Lord St. Jerome maintained that, on the whole, there were not more fogs in England than in any other country ; ' and as for the French,' he added, ' I like their audacity, for when they revolutionised the calendar, they called one of their months Brumaire.'
Then came in one of his Lordship's chaplains, who saluted the Monsignore with reverence, and immediately afterwards a beautiful young lady, his niece, Glare Arundel.
The family were Uving in a convenient suite of small rooms on the ground-floor, called the winter rooms, so dinner was announced by the doors of an adjoining chamber being thrown open, and there they saw, in tiie midst of a chamber hung with green silk and adorned with some fine cabinet-pictures, a small round table bright and glowing.
It was a lively dinner. Lord St. Jerome loved conver- sation, though he never conversed. ' There must be an uudience,* he would say, 'and I am the audience.' The partner of his life, whom he never ceased admiring, had originaUy fascinated him by her conversational talents; and even if nature had not impelled her. Lady St. Jerome was too wise a woman to relinquish the spell. The Mon- signore could always, when necessary, sparkle with anecdote or blaze with repartee ; and all the chaplains, who abounded in this house, were men of bright abilities, not merely men of reading but of the world, learned in the world's ways, and trained to govern mankind by the versatility of their sympathies. It was a dinner where there could not be two conversations going on, and where even the silent take their share in the talk by their sympathy.
And among the silent, as silent even as Lord St. Jerome, was Miss Arundel ; and yet her large violet eyes, darker even than her dark brown hair, and gleaming with inteUi-
De, and her rio)) face maintling with emotion, prored she not iDsenitible to tbe witty pasaages and the bright and int«re8tiiig oairativefi lliat were sparkling and flowing about hcp.
The g«iitiomea left the dining-room with the ladioa in thtt continent-al manner. Lady St. Jerome, who was leon- ine oa the arm of the Moosignore, guided him into a ealoon farther than the one they had re-entered, and thoa neating hi-raolf saitl, 'Yon were telling me about Scotland, that you yourself thought it ripe.'
■ Unqneationably, Tbe original plan waa to have Cfitiu
blished our biorsirchy when the Kirk split up; bat that
would have been a mistake ; it wa.'i not then ripe. There
would have been a fanatical reaction. Tliere Is always a
tendency that way in Scotland : as it is, at this moment,
the Kstabhstuncnt and the Free Kirk are mutually sighing
for BomecompromiBe whic;li may bring them together again ;
and if the proprietors would give up their petty patronage,
some flatter themaclvea it might be arrangi.-d. lint we are
thorooghly well-informed, and have provided fur all this.
We sent two of oar best men into Scotland some time ago,
and they have invented a now Church, culled the United
. Pt*cabyt«rians. John Knox himself was never more violent,
m^f more mischievous. The United Presbyterians will do
^Hke bosincsB : they will render Scotland simply impossible
^^B live in ; and then, when the ciisis arrives, the disti-act«d
^^«d despairing milhona will 6nd refuge in tlie bosom of
their oiJy mother. That is why, at home, we want*;d no
delay in the publication of the halt and the establishment
of tbe hierarchy,'
' Bot the Cardinal says no ?'
' Aj)d most be followed. Far thesa islands he has no equal. Ue wishes great reserve at present. AHairs hers are progressing, gradually but surely. But it, is Ireland where matters ara critical, or will be soon.'
rm
40 LOTH AIR.
' Ireland ! I thonglit there was a sort of nndcrstonding there, at least for the present.'
The Monsignore shook his head, ' What do joa think of an American invasion of Ireland 't '
* An American invasion !'
* Even so ; nothing more prohahle, and nothing more to be deprecated by us. Now that the civil war in America is over, the Irish soldiery are resolved to employ their experience and their weapons in their own land ; bat they have no thought for the interest of the Holy See, or the welfare of our Holy religion. Their secret organisation is tampering with the people and tampering with the priests. The difficulty of Ireland is that ihe priests and the people will consider everything in a purely Irish point of view. To gain some local object, they will encourage the pnncipleB of the most lawless liberalism, which naturally land them in Feuianism and Atheism. And the danger is not fore- seen, because the L sh political object of the moment is alone looked to.'
* But surely they c m be guided ?'
' We want a states man in Ireland. We have never been able to find one ; we want a man like the Cardinal. But the Irish will have a native for their chief. We canght Churchill young, and educated him in the Propaganda; but he has disappointed us. At first all seemed well ; he was reserved and austere ; and we heard with satisfaction that he was unpopular. But now that critical times are arriving, his peasant blood cannot resist the contagion. He proclaims the absolute equaUty of all religions, and of the power of the state to confiscate ecclesiastical property, and alienate it for ever. For the chance of subverting the Anglican Establishment, he is favouring a policy which will subvert religion itself. In his eagerness he cannot see that the Anglicans have only a lease of our property, a lease which is rapidly expiring.'
LOTH AIR. 41
■Tbig is gad.'
* It is perilous, and difficnlt to dcat witli. But it mnat be t with. The problfiin m to anppress Feniajiism, and not
A strengthen the Protestant confudtiracy.' t ' And you left Rome for this ? We niiderst-ood yoa wora something ulse,' baid Lad; St. Jerome in a [tiilicant tone.
* Tes, yes, I have been tLoro, and I have seen hixa.' ' And liave you succeeded ?'
' No ; and no one mil ; at leiist at present,' 'la all lost then i' Is the M^ta eohome again on the pet?'
* Onr Holy Churcfa is built upon a rock,' said the Mon- lore, ' but not npon the rock of Malta. Nothing ia lost;
jitODelli is calm and eangoine, tbongli, rest ossnpod, there k no doubt abont what I tell yon. France has washed her mdfl or us.'
' Where then are we to look for aid,' exclaimed liady fiL Jerome, ' against the assassins and athoists P Austria, the al(«rnative ally, is no longer near you ; and if she wera lat I sboold ever live to say it), even Austria is our
' Poor Anstria!' said Ibe Monsignore with an nnctaons ' Two things mode ber a nation ; sliti was Gierman d she was Catholic, and now she is neither.'
* But you alarm me, my dear Lord, with your terrible I once thought that Spain would be onr pro- we hear bad news fi'oin Spain.'
I * Yes,' said the Monsignore, ' I think it highly probable Mt, before a few years ha^e elapsed, every government in ropo will be atheistical except Franco. Vanity will s keep France the eldest son of the Chnrch, oven if •tMr a bonnet rouge. But if the Holy Father keep Inme, these strange ohnnges will only make tbe occupier |f the choir of St. Pel«r mure powerfal. Uis subjects wiU
42 LOTH AIR,
be in every clime and every country, and then they will be only his subjects. We shall get rid of the difficulty of the divided allegiance, Lady St. Jerome, which plagned our poor forefathers so much.'
' If we keep R<5me,' said Lady St. Jerome.
' And we shalL Let Christendom give ns her prayers for the next few years, and Pio Nono will become the most powerfiil monarch in Europe, and perhaps the only one.*
'I hear a sound,' exclaimed Lady St. Jerome. 'Yes! the Cardinal has come. Let ns greet him.'
But as they were approaching the saloon the Cardinal mot them, and waved them back. ' We will return,' he said, ' to our friends immediately, but I want to say one word to you both.'
He made them sit down. 'I am a little restless,' he said, and stood before the fire. ' Something interesting has happened ; nothing to do with pul)lio afiairs (do not pitch your expectations too high), but still of importance, and certainly of great interest, at least to me. I have seen my child, ray ward.*
' Indeed an event ! ' said Lady St. Jerome, evidently much interested.
' And what is he like ? ' enquired the Monsignore.
' All that one could wish. Extremely good-looking^ highly bred, and most ingenuous; a considerable intelli- gence and not untrained; but the most absolutely nn- afiected person I ever encountered.'
' Ah ! if ho had been trained by your Eminence,' sighed Lady St. Jerome. * Is it too late P '
* 'Tis an immense position,' murmured Berwick.
' What good might he not do ? ' said Lady St. Jerome ; ' and if he be so ingenuous, it seems impossible that he can resist the truth.'
' Your Ladyship is a sort of cousin of his,' said the Car- dinal musingly.
* Tee ; bnt very remoto. I Aaro Bny he would not actnow- Udge tbe do. Bal we uro kiu ; we liuvo the same blood in
'Ton should mnke his acqnnintatice,' said theCardinaL ' I more than desire it. T ht-itr lio has been terribly in-'g-
lected, bnraght np among Llie moat dreadful people, entii'ely
tnEdela and ranaLiuH.'
' He has been nearly two years at Oxford," said tbe Car- nal. 'That mny have mitigalcd the evil.' •Ai! bnt yon, riy Loi-d Cai-dinal, yon mast interfure. V that ynu at last know him, you must undertake the nt task ; yon must euvo liim.' 'Wo mnat all pray, aa 1 pray every mom and every
Bight,' said the Cardinal, ' for the convL-rsiua of England.' ' Or tlic eonquHBt,' murmured Berwick.
CllAl'TKR X.
I th« Canlinal wua rugnioiDg his carriage on leaving
, Giles' party, thtTe was, about the eutrance ef the
the UHual gathering under sneh circnnistnncee ; souio
1 linkbuys marvellonsly fantiliar with London life,
i some mtduigbt loungers, who thus take their linrnble
9 of the social excitement, and their happy chance of
M>ming aMjuaintod with some of the notables of the
mdrons world of which they form the base. This little
ran^d at the instant into stricter order by the
palioe to facilitate the passage of his Eminence, prevented
Pllie progresa of a pnesenger, who exclaimed ia an audible,
i'hiit not noisy, voice, aa if he were ejaculating to himself,
HA baa les prStres ! '
I This exclamatian, unintelligible to the populace, wna
mly by the only person who understood it. The
tTX'
44 LOTH A JR.
Oardinal, astoniBhed at the nnasual sound (for, hitherto, he had always found the outer world of London civil, or at least indifferent), threw his penetrating glance at the pas- senger, and caught clearly the visage on which ihe lamp- light fully shone. It was a square, sinewy face, closely shaven, with the exception of a small hut thick moustache, hrown as the well-cropped hair, and hlending with the hazel eye; a calm, hut determined countenance; clearly not that of an Englishman, for he wore ear-rings.
The carriage drove off, and the passenger, somewhat foi*cing his way through the clustering group, continued his course until he reached the cab-stand near the Marble Arch, when he engaged a vehicle and ordered to be driven to Leicester Square. That quarter of the town exhibits an animated scene towards the witching hour ; many lights and much population, illuminated coffee-houses, the stir of a large theatre, bands of music in the open air, and other sounds, most of them gay, and some festive. The stranger, whose compact figure was shrouded by a long fdr cape, had not the appearance of being influenced by the tempta- tion of amusement. As he stopped in the square and looked around him, the expression of his countenance was moody, perhaps even anxious. He seemed to be making observations on tlie locality, and, after a few minutes, crossed the open space and turned up into a small street which opened into the square. Li this street was a coffee* house of some pretension, connected indeed with an hotel, which had been formed out of two houses, and therefore possessed no inconsiderable accommodation.
The coffee-room was capacious, and adorned in a manner which intimated it was not kept by an Englishman, or much used by Englishmen. The walls were painted in frescoed arabesques. There were many guests, principally seated at small tables of marble, and on benches and chaira covered with a coarse crimson velvet. Some were fdpping
n
tffee, Mnne were drinkiDg wine, othera wure smokiiig or flaying dominoes, or doing both ; while many were en- gaged in reading the foreign jounmls, which abounded.
An ever-vigilant waiter was at the aide of tlie stranger the instant he entered, and wished t<) know his pleasure. The stranger was eiamining with hia keen eye every indi- Tidnal in the room, while thia qnestion was asked and repeated.
'What would I MishP'Bftid the stranger, ha^n'ng con- nided his inspcotion, and as it were snmmoning back his lUeclion. * I would wish to see, and at once, one Mr. mi, who, I believe, livea here,'
' Wliy, 'tis the m8Bt«p ! ' eJtclaimed the waiter.
'Well, then, go and tell tlie master that I want him.'
'But the master ia much engaged,' said the wait«r;
' I dare aay ; bat yon will go and tell him that I particn- larly want to see him,'
The waiter, though prepared to be impertinent to any one elae, felt that one was speaking to him who must bo !yed, and with a anbdned hot hesitating manner said, meeting to-night upstairs, whore the master is rctory, and it is diOicnlt to see him ; but if I could see 1, what naine am 1 to give ? ' ' Ton wiU go to him instantly,' said the stranger, ' and a will tell hira that he is wanted by Captain Bruges,' I The waiter was not long absent, and returning with p obseqniona bow, he invited the stranger to follow him V a private room, where he was alone only for a few >nds, for the door opened and he was joined by PeiTonL
' Ah I my General,' exclaimed the master of the coffee- honae. and he kissed the stranger's hand. ' Ton received jf telegram ? '
re. Now what is your bnBinesB ? '
46 LOTH AIR.
^ Thero is business, and great business ; if joa will do iti basiness for you.*
' Well, I am a soldier, and soldiering is my trade, and I do not much care what I do in that way, provided it ia not against the good cause. But I must tell you at once, friend Perroni, I am not a man who will take a leap in the dark. I must form my own staff, and I must have my commissariat secure.'
* My General, you will be master of your own terms. The standing committee of the Holy Alliance of Peoples are sitting upstairs at tliis moment. They were unanimooa in sending for you. See them ; judge for yourself; and, rest assured, you will be satisfied.'
' I do not much like having to do with committees,' said the General. * However, let it be as you like : I will see them.'
* I had better just announce your arrival,* said Perroni. * And will you not take something, my General, after your travel P You must be wearied.*
' A glass of sugar and water. You know I am not easily tired. And, I agree with you, it is better to come to busi- ness at once : so prepare them.'
CHAPTER XI.
The Standing Committee of the Holy AUiance of Peoples all rose, although they were extreme Republicans, when the General entered. Such is the magical influence of a man of action over men of the pen and the tongue. Had it been, instead of a successful military leader, an orator that had inspired Europe, or a journalist who had established the rights of the human race, the Standing Committee would have only seen one of their own kidney^ who having been
LOTH AIR.
47
j^TOBred with happier opportnnitics than themselves, luid ■ Raped a harvest which, equally favoured, they might have gAmcred.
'General.' said Felix Drolin, the president, who waa looked npon by the brotherhood aa a stateamau, for he had ecn, in his time, a lueraber of a Provisional Government, this seat is for yoa )' and he pointed to one on hia right 'Ton are ever welcome; and I hope yon bring ood tidiaga, and good fortune.'
' I am glad to he among my friends, and I may say,' wking aroand, ' my comradea. 1 hope 1 may bring yoa rtt«r fortune ihnu my tidings.'
' But now they have left Rome,' said the President, every day we expect good news.'
* Ay, ay ! he has left Rome, but he has not left Rome rith the door open. I hope it is not on each gossip you ive sent for me. You have something on hand. What it?'
' Yon shall hear it from the fountain -head," said the residect, ' fresh from New York ;' and he pointed to ao dividual seated in the centre of the table. 'Ah! Colonel Finncane,' ijoid the General, 'I have not itten James River. Ton did that well. What ia the ack now ? '
Whereupon a tali, lean man, with a decided brogue, but ing tlirough his nose, rose from bis seat and informed General that the Irish people were organised and ready rise ; ibat they had sent their deputies to New York ; they wanted were arms and ofBccrs ; that the American ithreo had agreed to supply thom with both, and amply ; 1 that considerable Bubscriptions wore raising for iw purposes. What they now required was a com- nder-in-chief equal to the occAiiion, and in whom all old have conSdenee ; and therefore they had telegraphed (be Gonerol.
n«^
_ w . XXJXjA..
* 1 6c«il< UK i«r frvmoi^ nrvr ibe witer would send ii£ fMtaOT i^f :riWib.'«ii£ ibp GtmBcmL, *if weooold onlj mmzage to ltts>£ xSrl . Koi I lauzik 1 knr>w men now in the Stetet frvom mtcia: 1 evufi Ixv! m cm^ faalT; but bow mboat the X L*<mai£ 5 Wtmi fprHeuot bftve we that they wOl if wir aa>i f '
*Thr bM.^ f&ii£ Tiir Fmadfsit. 'We hmve % EEead. CVntst* Vcvw C^t^Mtr IWscziivid. wi>o will give yon the moat fwvv.T «ai vbr ia;K3 nx:uieEitar intiellieeDoe on that bead.*
^ TS« wbi^^ cvuxinr V :rri3ii9ied,'* sud the Head-Centre; * wt" oo9ila |«ct $A\<JkO TZMm in the field at any time in a f.vrtui^ht. T^<' lac^i^rmcsii i» not siectarian ; it pervades all eUsHMM asii all <'c^^^aj^. AH that we want are officers and
* Hem * * «".^ liii^ G«3firaL * Aud as to your other snp- p!i^ ? ArT «^h<sc>e of rvtniinissanat r '
^TheT^ w;ll S^ no bic^ cf meuis,* vpplied the Head- Cer«i«v. •Tbc^Tifr is nc^ co«cTitTT where eo much money )» himrd^i a$ in Ireland. Bat^ depend npon it, so fiair as the oiVQiroijs^sanai i$ concerned, the movement will be self- ftupjv^rtiv.c,"
• NWIU ^-^ s^V^-^ «^-' «"«^ ^^ General ; * I am «orry it is nn Irish aflAir, thoncK to be sure, what else oould it he P I w« tiot f^^^ui of Irish afikirs : whatever may be said, and bo^v\*rr plausible things may look, in an Irish business there ij» alt^iiys a priest al the bottom of it. 1 hate priests. IK* the hx'A I was stopped on my way here by a Cardinal pettini? into his carriage. 1 thought I had burnt all those vehicles when I was at Rome with Garibaldi iu '48. A Cardinal in his carriage ! I had no idea you permitted that sort of cattle in London.'
' Ix^ntlon is a roost for every bird,' said Felix Drolin, *Very few of the priests fifcvour this movement,' said
Desmond. • m .u
•Then you have a great power against you, said ttie
Oeoeral, * in addition to Englwid.'
LOTH AIR. 4y
* The; ftra not ozactly agunst ; the bnllc of iliem ore too nationBJ for tbat ; but Rome does cot mnctioa : jou iinder-
' I oDdHrslniiil enough,' said the General, ' to see that we most not out with precipit&tion. An liixh buaineas la a thing to be turned over several times.'
■ But yet," Eoid a Pole, ' what hoi>e for hamanity pxcept from tbe rising of an oppressed nationality. We have offered ourselves on the altar, and in vain ! Greece ia too small, and Ronmania, thoagh both of them arc ready ti> do anything; but they would be the mere tools of Russia Ireland alone remains, and she is at onr feet.'
' Tbe peoples will never succeed till they have a fleet,' said a German. ' Then you could land as niany rifles as yoa like, or anything else. To have a fleet we rat>a against Denmark in my country, but wa have been betrayed. Nevertheless, Germany will yet be united, and she can only as a R«pubhc. Then slio will be the mistress of
That is tbe misfiion of Ita,1j,' said Perroui. 'Italy,
tbe traditions of Genoa, Venice, Pisa j Italy is plainly
icated OS tbe fatore mistress of the Bess,'
1 beg your pardon,' said tbe German ; ' the future mis.
of the seas is Uie land of the Viking. It is tbe forests
of the Baltic that will build the fleut of the futnre. You
liave no timber in Italy.'
' Timber ia no longer wanted,' said Perroni. ' Nor do I know of what will be funned the fleets of tbe futnro. But ibe sovereignty of the seas depends upon seamen, and tha oftntical genius of the Italians^ — '
' ComnuleB,' said the General, ' wo have discnased to- night a great subject. For my part I have traveUed rather briskly as yon wished it. I should Uke to sleep on thid
"Tib most reasonable,' said the President.
'Our r
50 LOTH AIR.
freshinent at oounoil ia very spare,* he oontinued, and he pointed to a vase of water and some glasses ranged roani it in the middle of the tahle ; ' bat we always drink one toast, (}oneral, before we separate. It is to one whom yon love, and whom jon have served welL Fill glasses, breth- ren, and now " To Mabt-Akni." '
If thej had been inspired by the grwpe nothing oonld be more animated and even excited than all their oonntenanoes suddenly became. The cheer might have been heard in the coffee-room, as they expressed, in the phrases of many languages, the never-failing and never-flagging enthnaiaaiD invoked by the toast of their mistress.
CHAPTER Xn.
' Did you read that paragraph, mamma P ' enquired Lady Corisande of the Duchess, in a tone of some seriousness.
• I did.'
* And what did you think of it P * ' It filled me with so much amazement that I have hardly
begun to think.*
' And Bertram never gave a hint of such things ! *
' Let us believe they are quite untrue.'
' I hope Bertram is in no danger,' said his sister.
' Heaven forbid ! ' exclaimed the mother, with unaffected alarm.
' I know not how it is,' said Lady Corisande, ' but I frequently feel that some great woe is hanging over our country.'
' You must dismiss such thoughts, my child ; they are &nciful.'
' But it will come, and when least expected ; frequently in church, but abo in the sunshine ; and when I am riding
n once everything seenied gap Bat now I often
ink of atrile, and straggle, and war ; civil war : the Btir of oar cavalcade aeema like the tramp of cavalry.'
' Ton indulge your imagination too mach, dear Corisando, When j-ou return to London, and enter the world, tbwe anxiooa thoughts will &y.'
' Is it imagination P I should rather have doabled my being of an iioaginative nature. It aeenis to me that I am rather liberal. Bat I cannot help hearing things, and reading thinga, and observing things, and they till me with disqnietode. All seems doubt »nd change, when it would appear that we require both faith and firmneas.'
' The Duke is not alarmed about aSkirs,' said his wife.
' And if all did their duty like papa, there might be less, or no cause,' soJd Corisande, ' to be alarmed. But when 1 hear of yonng nobles, the natural leaders of the land, going over to the Roman Catholic Church, I confess I losa
(irt aiid patience. It seems so unpatriotio, so efleminate.' 'It may not be true,' said the Duchess, 'it may not be true of him, but it is tmo of others,' said Ay Corisande. 'And why should be esciipe P He is tj young, rather fiHendless, aud surrounded by wily per- Ml I am disappointed about Berti-am too. He ought have prevented this, if it be trno. Bertram Beemed to me to have such eicellent principles, and so completely to feel that he was bom to maintain the gi'eat country which his ancestors had creatod, that I indulged in dreams, I Euppose yon are right, mamma ; I suppose 1 am imagina- tive without knowing it ; but I have always thought and hoped, that when the troubles came the country might, perhaps, rally round Bertram.'
■ I wiah to see Bertram in Parliament,' said the Uuchess. ' Thftt will be the best thing for hijn. The Duke has tome
H conversation bad been occasioned by a paragraph \xk
fp^
S2 LOTH AIR,
the 'MomiDg Post,' circulating a nunoor that a young noble, obviooslj Loihair, on the impending completion of his minority, was about to enter the Roman Chorclu The Duchess and her daughter were sitting in a chamber of their northern castle, and speculating on their return to London, which was to take place after the Easter whidi had just arrived. It was an important social season for Corisande, for she was to be formally introduced into the great world, and to be presented at Court.
In the meanwhile, was there any truth in the report about Lothair P
Afler their meeting at their lawyer's, a certain intimacy had occurred between the Cardinal and his ward. They met again immediately and frequently, and their mutual feelings were cordial. The manners of his Eminence were defined and affectionate; his conversational powers were distinguished ; there was not a subject on which his mind did not teem with interesting suggestions ; his easy know- ledge seemed always ready and always full ; and whether it were art, or letters, or manners, or even political afiEairs, Lothair seemed to listen to one of the wisest, most en- lightened, and most ag^reeable of men. There was only one subject on which his Eminence seemed scrupulous never to touch, and that was religion ; or so indirectly, that it was only when alone that Lothair frequently found himself musing over the happy influence on the arts, and morals, and happiness of mankind, of the Church.
In due time, not too soon, but when he was attuned to the initiation, the Cardinal presented Lothair to Lady St. Jerome. The impassioned eloquence of that lady germinated the seed which the Cardinal had seemed so carelessly to scatter. She was a woman to inspire crusaders. Not that she ever condescended to vindicate her own particular faith, or spoke as if she were conscious that Lothair did not possess it. Assuming that religion was true, for otherwise
mau would be in & more degraded position tbua tlia beute of the field, wliich are not awaro of their own wretched-
neas, then religion ahonld be the principal occnpation of man, to which all other pursnita ehonld be eubservient. The docnn of eternity, and the fortnnes of hfe, cannot be placed in contpetition. Onr daje shoald be pnre, and holj, Red heroic, fall of noble thoughts and Bolemn eacriiice. Providence, in its wisdom, had decreed that the world ahonld be divided between the faithfal and atheists ; the latter even seemed (n predominate. There was no doubt that, if they prevailed, all that elevated man woald become extinct. It wafl a great trial ; but happy waa the man who WBB privileged even to endure the awful tost. It might develope the highest qnalllics and the most snblime con- duct. If he were eqaal to tbo occasion, and oonld control and even snbdtie these sons of Oorah, he would rank with Michael the Archangel. ' This was the text on which frequent discourses were de-
Kred to Lothair, and to which he listened at first with Bf, and soon with enraptured attention. The priestess rorthy of the shrine. Few persona were ever gifted pth more natural eloquence ; a commniid of language,
koioe without being pedantic ; beautiful hands that flnt^
rod with trroeiatible grace ; flashing eyes and a voice of melody.
tiotfaau began to oxamiiie himself, and to ascertain whether he possessed the necessary qualities, and was ntpable of eiiblime conduct. His natural modesty and his strong religions feeling stru^led together. He feared ha waa not an archangel, and yet he longed to struggle with the powers of darkness.
One day he ventured to express to Miss Arandel a •omewbAt hopeful view of the futore, hut Miss Arundel
wk hop head.
*I do not agree wiU< my aunt, at leaat oa regan
i this
54 LOTH AIR.
nraDtiy,' said Minn Arandol ; * I tliink onr sins are fan groat. We left His Charch. and God is now leaving ua,'
Lotbfur looked grove, bal was si lent.
Weeks bad passed nicue liia introducUon to the family of Lord St. Jerome, and it was remarkable bow lar^ a |K3rtion of bis subsequent time bad passed nndor timt rooC At first tliare were few persons in town, and fL-ally of tbeae Ijotbair knew nouo ; and then ihe bouse in St. James's Sqnare was not oa\y an interesting, bnt it was sji agree- able bonse. All Lady St. Jerome's family connectionR were ptirsons of moch fashion, so tbere was more varielj nod enteruiinnient tban aonietimos are to be foand onder a Iloman Catbotic roof. Lady St. Jerome was at home every evening before Easter. Few dames can venture sacceas- Fally on bo decided a step ; but her saloons were always attended, and by ' nice people.' Occasionally tbe Cardinal stepped in, and, to a certain degree, tbe saloon was the rendecvDuB of tbe Catbollc party ; but it was also generally social and diRttngnisbcd. Many bright danics and dnmsela, and many influential men, were tbere, wbo little deemed that deep and daring tbon^bts were there masked by mftDj a gracious countenance. The social atmosphere infinitely pleased Lotliair. The mixture of solemn dntyaod graoefol diversion, high purposes and cbamiiti^ manners, seemed to realise some youthful dreams of elegant existence. All too was eidinnced by tbe historic character of tbe roof and by tbe recoUocttoo that their conunon ancestors, as Clare Arundel more than once intimated to him, had created England. Having bad so many pleasant dinners in St James's Square, and spent there so many evening hours, it was not wonderful that Lothair bod accepted an invitation from Lord St. Jerome to pass Kaster at bis oonutry soa^t.
]
CHAPTER Xin.
:, die neat of the St. Jeromes, -was the &nest Bpecituen of tfae old Euglish residence estaot. It vas the perfeotion uf the style, wliich had gradually arisen after the wars of the Ro»es had nlike destroyed all the castlen and the par- pose of those stem erections. People eaid Yauxe looked like a college : the truth is, colleges looked like Yauxe, for irhen those fair and civil buildings rose, the wise and liberal Bpirits who endowed them, intended that tkey should resemble as maoh as poBsible the residence of a great
There were two quadrangles at Vanie of grey stone ; the outer one of larger dimeosions acd much covered with ify i the inner one not so extenaivo but more ornate, with a lofty tower, a h&U, and a chapel. The Loose was full of galleries, and they were full of portraits. Indeed there was scarcely a chamber in this vast edifice of which the wnlla were not breathing with Enghah liistory in this interesting form. Sometimes more ideal art asserted a triumphant claim t transeendental Holy Fiiniilies, Bemphia •aiDts, and gorgeons scenes by Tintoret and Paul of Yerona.
The fiimitare of the house seemed never to have been changed. It was very old, somewhat scanty, hut very rich : tapestry and velvet hangings, mai-vellous cabinets, and crystal girandoles. Here and there a group of ancient plate ; ewers and flagons and tall saltcellars a foot high and ncKly chiselled ; sometimes a state bed shadowed with a huge pomp of stiff brocade and borne by silver poles.
Yauie stood in a large park studded with stiitcly trees ; here and there an avenne of Spanish chesnat!< or a grore of oaks; sometimea a gortiy dell and sometimfs a great qtread of antlered fern, taller than the tallest man.
56 LOTHAIR.
It w&A only twenty miles from town, and Lord St. Jerome drove Lothair down ; the last ten miles throngli a pretty land, which, at the right season, would have been bright with orchards, oak woods, and hop gardens. Lord St. Jerome loved horses and was an eminent whip. He had driven fonr-in-hand when a boy, and he went on driv- ing fonr-in-hand ; not because it was the feyihion, but be- cause he loved it. Towards the close of Lent, Lady Si Jerome and Clare Arundel had been at a convent in re- treat, but they always passed Holy Week at home, and they were to welcome Lord St. Jerome again at Yauxe.
The day was bright, the mode of movement exhilarating, all the anticipated incidents delightful, and Lothair felt the happiness of health and youth.
'There is Yauxe,' said Lord St. Jerome, in a tone of proud humility, as a turn in the road first displayed the stately pile.
' How beautiful ! ' said Lothair ; ' ah ! our ancestors understood the country.'
' I used to think when I was a boy,' said Lord St. Jerome, ' that I lived in the prettiest village in the world, but these railroads have so changed everything, that Yauxe seems to me now only a second town house.'
The ladies were in a garden, where they were consulting with the gardener and Father Coleman about the shape of some new beds, for the critical hour of filling them was approaching. The gardener, like all head-gardeners, was opiniated. Living always at Yauxe, he had come to be- lieve that the gardens belonged to him, and that the &mily were only occasional visitors ; and he treated them accord- ingly. The lively and impetuous Lady St. Jerome had a thousand bright fiuicies, but her morose attendant rarely indulged them. She used to deplore his tyranny with piteous playfulness. ' I suppose,' she would say, ' it is useless to resist, for I observe 'tis the same everywhere.
idy Eloeliimpton aayi she i
Hardeof
It i
■ liAB her way with bor
3 speaking to Lord 8t. Jerome, f i is afraid
tkoDgh he is afraid of nothing el§e, I a of Hawldiis.'
The only way that Lady St, Jerome coald manage Hawkins was throagh Father Coleman. Father Coleman, who knew everything', knew a great deal about gardens ; from the dnys of Le Notre to those of the fine gentlemen who now travel about, and when disengaged deign to give □s advice.
Father Coleman had only just entered middJe-age, was imperturbable and mild in his manner. He passed his life very much at Vauie, and imparted a great deal of know- ledge to Mr. Hawkins, withoat apparently being conscious of so doing. At the bottom of hia mind, Mr. Hawkins felt assured that he had gained several dietinguished prizes, mainly tbrongh the hints and guidance of Father Coleman ; aud thus, though on the surface a little Burly, he was ruled by Father Coleman, under the combined infiuenco of self- interest and superior knowledge.
' You find ua in a garden withont flowers,' said Lady St. Jerome ; ' but the sTut, I think, alway loves these golden
These are for yon, dear nncle,* said Clare Anitidel, aa gave bim a rich olnster of violeta. ' Just dow the woods more IragTBnt than the gardcna, and these are the pro- of oar morning walk. 1 could have brought yon Borao but I do not like to mil violets with anything.' ' They say primroses make a capital salad," said Lord St. Jerome.
'Unrbarion ! ' exclaimed Lady St, Jerome. ' I see you want Innoheon ; it must be ready ; ' and abe took Lotbair'a ftrm. ' I will slinw you a portrait of one of your ancestors,' mairied an Amndel.'
^fece
CHAPTER SIV.
' Now, yon know," siaid Lady St. Jerome to Lothair in « hiuhed Toice, as tbey sato together in the evening, ' jon are to be qnite Eree here; to do exactly what you like, &iid we ahaJI follow onr waj^. If yon like to have a clergymmi of your own Chnrch visit you while you are with na, pray 8By so without the slightest ecmple. We have an exe«Uent gentleman in this parish ; he ofleu dines here ; and I am Hure he would bo most happy to attend yoo. I know that Holy Week is not wholly disregarded by aome of tha Anglicans.'
' It is the anniversary of the greatost event of time,' ■aid Lothair; 'and I should be sorry if any of my Chnrcb did not entirely regard it, though they may show Uiat regard in a way difi'erent from yonr own.'
' Yea, yes," murmured Lady St. Jerome ; ' there should be no difference between our Churches, if tilings were only properly understood. I would accept all who really bow to the name of Chriat ; they will come to the Chnrch at jASt i they mast. It ia the Athoiate alone, I fear, who are now carrying everything before them, and against whom there ia no rampart, except the rock of St. Peter.'
Miss Amndel crosaed the room, whispered something to her aunt, and touched her forehead with her lips, and then lefl the apartment.
' We must soon separate, I fear,' eaid Lady St. Jerome ; ' we have an office to-night of greiit moment j the Tenebr* oommence to-night. You have, I thiuk, nothing like it, hut you have services throughout this week.'
'I am sorry to suy I have not alt^odod them,' said Lothair. ' I did at Oiford ; but I don't know how it ia, but in London there seems no religion. And yet, aa yon
LOTH A iR. 59
sometimes srj, religion is the great bn&ineas of life ; 1 eometimes begin to think the only buainesa."
' Yes, yea," said Lady St. Jerome, witl mnch interest, ' if yon believe tbat yon are safe. I wish yon had a clergyman near yon nhile yon arc here. See Mr, Clanghton if you like ; 1 wonld ; and if yon do not, there is Father Coleman. I cannot convey to yon how eatiafaetory conversation is with him on religions matters. Be is the hohest of men, and yet he is a man of the world : he will not iiivit« yon into any controversies. He will speak with yon only on points on which we agree, Ton know there are many points on which we agree ? '
' Happily,' said Ijothair. 'And now about the ofBce to- night : toll me ahont these Tenebne. la there anything' in the Tenebrto that should prevent my being present ? '
'No reason whatever; not a dogma which you do not believe ; not a ceremony of which yon cannot approve. There are [malms, at the end of each of which a light an the altar is eitingnished. There is the Song of Moses, the Canticle of Zachary, the Miaerere, whieh is the Slst Psalm yon read and chant regularly in yonr church, the Lord's Prayer in ailcrco; and then all ia daikncss and distreas : what the Church was when our Lord suffered, what the whole world is now except Hia Church.'
' If you will permit mo,' said Lothair, ' 1 will accompany yon to the Tenebraa.'
Although the chapel at Vauxe was, of conrse, a private chapel, it was open ta the surrounding public, who eagerly availed themselves of a permission alike politic and gracious.
Nor was that remarkable. Manifold art had combined to create this exquisite temple, and to gnido all its minis- trations. But tO'Oight it was not the nidiant altar and the Rplendoor of stately priests, the processions and ths inoensc, the divine choir and the celestial harmonies ro. sonndini^ and lingering in arched roofs, that attractcil
6o LOTH AIR,
many a neighbour. The altar was desolate, the ohoir was dumb ; and while the services proceeded in hashed tones of snbdned sorrow, and sometimes even of sappressed angnish, gradnallj, with each psalm and canticle, a light of the altar was eztingoished, till at length the Miserere was muttered, and all became darkness. A sound as of a distant and rising wind was heard, and a crash, as it were the fall of trees in a storm. The earth is covered with darkness, and the vail of the temple is rent. But juBt at this moment of extreme woe, when all human voices are silent, and when it is forbidden even to breathe 'Amen; ' when everything is symbolical of the confusion and despair of the Church at the loss of her expiring Lord, a priest brings forth a concealed light of silvery flame firom a comer of the altar. This is the light of the world, and announces the resurrection, and then all rise up and depart in silence.
As Lothair rose. Miss Arundel passed him with stream- ing eyes.
' There is nothing in this holy office,' said Father Cole- man to Lothair, * to which every real Christian might not give his assent.'
' Nothing,' said Lothair, with great decision.
CHAPTER XV.
There were TenebrsQ on the following days. Maundy Thursday and Oood Friday ; and Lothair was present on both occasions.
' There is also a great office on Friday,' said Father Coleman to Lothair, ' which perhaps you would not like to attend, the mass of the Pro-saDctified. Wo bring back the Blessed Sacrament to the desolate altar, and unveil the
LOTH AIR. 6 1
It ii one of oqp higbest ooreDLonJes, tbe &donitiiui the Croaa, whioh the FroteB^nts pcrKist in calling idolatry, tliongli I presiime tbey will give na leave to know tb« metuiing of oar own words and actions, and hope tliej ^^rill believe ns when we tell tbcm thut our ^niLflexionE ^Hkd kissing of the Cross are no more Ihaji exterior eiprea- ^Hpons of that love which we bear in our hoarts to Jesna ^ftnicLEod ; and that the words adoration and adore, u applied to the Croaa, only signiij that respect and venera- tion due to things immediately relating to God and Hia
' I see no idolatry in it,' said Lotbair, musingly.
' No impartial person could,' rejoined Father Coleman ■ 'bnt anfortonately all theao prejudices were imbibed when the world was not eo well-informed as at present. A good deal of misohief has been done, too, by the Protestant ver- sions of the Holy Scriptures; made in a borry, and by
En imperfectly acquainted with the Eastern tongues, and te ignonuit of Eastern manners. All the accamnlatcd »rch and investigBtion of modern times have only illua- liiBted and justified the offices of the Church.' * That is very interesting,' said Lothiur. ' Now, ibia question of idolatrj-,' said Father Coleman, ' that is a tbi'tile subject of mi soon cep don. The house of lanicl waa raised up to destroy idolatry, because idolatry then meant dark images of Moioch opening their arms by muchinory, and flinging the beant«ous firKtbom of the land into tlicir huge forms, which were furnaces of fire; or Asht«rol)i. throned in moonlit groves, and surrounded by oi^es of ineffable demoralisatiou. It required the declared trill of God to redeem man irom such fatal im'quity, which would have sapped the human race. But to cuufonnd I mch deeds with the commemoration of God's sainte, who « only pictured because their lives are perpetual inoen- a to purity and holiness, and to declare that the Queeu
62 LOTH AIR.
of HeftTCD and tho Motber of God should be to lintnaJi feeling only &b a sister of charity or a gleaner in the Gelds. is to abnse reason and to outrage the heart.'
'We lire in dark times,' e&id Lothoir, with aa air of distreRS.
* Not darker than before the df^lnge,' exclaimed Father Coleman; *not darker than before the Nativity; not darker even than when the aaiota became martyra. Thero is a PharOH in the world, and its light will noi'er ho ex- tinguished, homevor black the clouds and wild the waves. Man is on bis trial now, not the Church ; but in tho service of the Church his highest energies may be developed, and hia noblest qnahties proved.'
Lothair seemed plunged in thought, and Father Uolenutn glided away as Lady St. Jerome entered the gallery, shawled and bonneted, accompojiied by another priest, Mod sign ore Gates by.
Catesby wae a youthful member of an ancient English house, which for many generations had without a mormor, rather in a Rpirit of Criiunph, made every worldly sacrifioe for the Church and Court of Rome. For that cause ihej had forfeited their lives, broad estates, and all the hononn of a lofty station in their own land. Reginald Catesby with considerable abilities, trained with consummate skill, inherited their determined will, and the traditionary beauty of their form and countenance. His manners were win> ning, and he was as well informed in the ways of the world B8 he was in the works of the great casuists.
' My Lord has ordered the clmr-a-bauc, and is going to drive us all to Chart, where we will lunch,' said Lady St. Jerome ; ' 'tis a curious place, and was planted only seventy yearB ago by my Lord's grandfather, entirely with spruce firs, hut with so much care and skill, giving each plant and tree ample distance, that they have risen to the noblest proportions, with all their green branches far-spreading on the ground like huge fiias.'
t was only b drire oT throe or four miles entirely in the This was a district that hod been added to the Micient eticlosore ; a, striking scene. It waa a forest of fii«, but quite nnlike sach ua might he met with in the north of Europe or of Americft, Every tree was perfect, hnge and complete, and faU of massy grace. Notliing else was permitted to grow there except juniper, of which there were aboanding and wondrous groups, green and spiral ; the whole contrasting with the tall brown fern of wbicb there were qoautities about cut for the deer.
The turf was dry and mossy, and the air pleasant, Tt WBfl a balmy day. They sate down by the great trees, the earraats opened the luncheon baskets, which were a present from Balmoral, Lady St. Jerome was seldom seen to greater adrantAge than distributing her viands imder such circomatances. Never was such gay and grace- fiil hospitality. Lothair was quite fascinated as she play- (nlly thrust a paper of lobster-sandwiches into hie hand, and enjoined Monsignore Catesby to fill his tumbler with Chablis.
'I wish Father Coleman were here,' said Lothair to Uiss AnmdeL
* Why P ' said Miss Arundel.
' Becanse we were in the midat of a very interesting conversation on idolatry and on worsliip in groves, when Lsdy St. Jerome summoned us to our drive. This seems a (^rovo where one might worship.'
* Father Coleman ought to be at Rome,' eaJd Miss imadcl, 'He waa to have passed Holy Week there. 1 know not why he changed his plmts.'
' Are yon angry with him for it ? '
* No, not angry, bat surprised ; surprised that anyone fidgbt be at Roms, and yet be absent &om it.'
~ 'ToaUkeSome?'
,^1 have never been there. U is the wish of my life.'
64 LOTH AIR.
*llaj I aaj to jon what jou said to me just now. whyP'
* Natnrallj, because I would wish to witness the cere- monies of the Ohorch in their most perfect form.'
' But they are fulfilled in this country, I have heard, with much splendour and precision.'
Miss Arundel shook her head.
' Oh ! no,' she said ; ' in this country we are only jnst emerging from the catacombs. If the ceremonies of the Church were adequately fulfilled in England, we should hear very little of English infidelity.'
'That is saying a great deal,' observed Lothair, en- quiringly.
' Had I that command of wealth of which we hear eo much in the present day, and with which the possessors seem to know so little what to do, I would purchase some of those squalid streets in Westminster, which are the shame of the metropolis, and clear a great space and build a real cathedral, where the worship of heaven should be perpetually conducted in the full spirit of the ordinances of the Church. I believe, were this done, even this country might be saved.'
CHAPTER XYI.
LoTUAiB began to meditate on two great ideas : the recon- ciliation of Christendom and the influence of architecture on religion. If the differences between the Roman and Anglican Churches, and between the Papacy and Protes- tantism, generally arose, as Father Coleman assured him^ and seemed to prove, in mere misconception, reconciliation, though difficult, did not seem impossible, and appeared to be one of the most efficient modes of defeating the Atheista. It was a result which of course mainly depended on the
iiity of Beaaon ; but the power of the ima^' nation might also be enliBted in the good cause tbrongh tlie iii- BaeDce of the fiae arts, of which the great Hussion ia to excite, and at the eame time derate, the feeling's of the human family. Lotbair foand himself frequently in a reverie over Miss Arundel's ideal fane ; and feeling that lie bod the powar of buying up a district in forlorn West- minster, bdJ raising there a temple to the living God, which might tnSuence the futare welfare of millions, and even effect the salvation of his country, he began io ask hitnseU^ whether he conld inonr the reaponHibilitj of shrinking from the fulfilment of this great doty.
Lothair conld not have a better adviser on the subject of the influence of architecture on religion than Monaignore Ctttesby. Monaignore Catesby had been a pupil of Pugin i his knowledge of ecclesiastical architecture waa only eqmUled by bis exquisite taate. To bear him expound the mysteries of symbolical art, and ex])atiate «n the hidden revehitioas of its beauteous forms, reached even to ecstasy. Lothair hung upon his accents like a neophyte. Con- ferences with Father Coleman on those points of faith on which they did not dtfier, followed up by desultory remarks on those points of faith on which they ought not to differ ( ^tica] discnesions with Monsignore Cateebyon cathedrals, r forma, their purposes, and the instances in several intriea in which those forms were most perfect and those !S best secured, occupied a good deal of time ; and it these engaging pursnite were secondary in real emotion ^his fVeqnent conversations with Miss Arundel, in whose iety every day he took a strange anil deeper interest. She did not eitend to him that ready sympathy which waa Bapplied by the two priests. On the contrary, when he waa apt to indulge in those speculationi which they silways encouraged, and rewariled by adroit applause, she Wits iift*!a silent, throwiug on him only the scrutiny ot
66 LOTHAIR.
tiKMe violet eyes, whose glance was ratiier &scmatisg than apt to captivate. And yet he was irresistibly drawn to her, and once recalling the portrait in the gallery, he Ten- tared to murmnr that they were kinsfolk.
' Oh ! I have no kin, no country,' said Miss Anindel. ' These are not times for Idn and country. I have gives up all these things for my Master ! '
' But are our times so trying as Uiat P ' enquired Lothair.
' They are times for new crusades,' said Miss Arundel, with energy, ' though it may be of a different character from the old. If I were a man I would draw my sword for Christ. There are as great deeds to be done as the siege of Ascalon, or even as the fireeing of the Holy Sepulchre.'
In the midst of a profound discussion with Father Cole- man on Mariolatry, Lothair, wrapt in reverie, suddenly introduced the subject of Miss Arundel. ' I wonder what will be her lot,' he exclaimed.
'It seems to me to be settled,' said Father ColemaD. ' She will be the bride of the Church.'
' Indeed ! ' and he started, and even changed colour.
' She deems it her vocation,' said Father Coleman.
* And yet, with such gifbs, to be immured in a convent,' said Lothair.
'That would not necessarily follow,' replied Father Cole- man. ' Miss A rundel may occupy a position in which ahe may exercise much influence for the great cause which absorbs her being.'
'There is a divine energy about her,' said Lothair, almost speaking to himself. ' It could not have been given for little ends.'
' If Miss Arundel could meet with a spirit as exalted and as energetic as her own,' said Father Coleman, ' her &te might be different. She has no thoughts which are noi groat, and no purposes which are not sublime. But lor
LOTHAIR. 67
the compacion of ber life ehe would reqnire no lew tliiui a
Godfrey de Bonillon."
Lolb^r began to 6iid the time paaa very rapidly at
Vause. Easter week had nearly vanished ; Vaoxo had been
gay during the last few days, Every day some visitors
came down &om London ; sotnetimea they returned in the
evening ; sometimes they passed the night at Vauxe and
retomed to town in tlie morning with Uifge bonqneta
[jotbair felt it was time for him to depart, and he broke hia
intention to Lady St, Jerome ; but Lady St. Jerome wonld
not hpnr of it. So he muttered something aboatbnsineas.
|l 'Exactly,' ahe said; 'everybody has bnsiness, and I
■^bre sny yon have a great deal. But Vaoxe is precisely tlie
^^Hjue for persons who have bnsiness. Yoa go np to town
^^K 6n early train, and then yon retnni in time for dinner,
^^fild bring ns all the news from the Clnbs.'
Lothair was beginning to say something, but Lady St. Jerome, who, when necessary, had the rare art of not ; without, offending the speaker, told him that they intend thcraselvca to return ta town for a week or 1^ and that she knew Lord St. Jerome would be greatly loyed if Lothair did not remain. IXnthair remained ; and ho went np to town one or two ings to transnct bneineBa ; that is to say, to see a cele- nted architoct, and to order plans for a cathedral, in kich all the purposes of those sttblime and eiqniBite nctnres were to be rcalificd. The drawings would lake mtdderable time to prepare, and these must be deeply uidered. So Lothair became quite do mici hated s,t he went np to town in the morning and returned, re, to his home; everybody delighted to welcoino . and yet lie seemed not expected. His rooms were icr his name ; and the household treated bim ae D of the family.
m^^^-
68 LOTH AIR.
CHAPTER XVIL
A FEW days before Lothair*s visit was to terminata, tiie Cardinal and Monsignore Berwick arrived at Yanxe. His Eminence was received with mnch ceremony; the mar- shalled honsehold, rang^ in lines, fell on their knees at his approach, and Lady St. Jerome, Miss Amndel, and some other ladies scarcely less choice and fair, with the lowest obeisance, touched with their honoured lips his princely hand.
The Monsignore had made another visit to Paris on his intended return to Rome, but in consequence of some secret intelligence which he had acquired in the French capital, had thought fit to return to England to consult with the Cardinal There seemed to be no doubt that the Revolutionary party in Italy, assured by the withdrawal of the French troops from Rome, were again stirring. There seemed also little doubt that London was the centre of preparation, though the project and the projectors were involved in much mystery. ' They want money,' said the Monsignore ; ' that we know, and that is now our best chance. The Aspromonte expedition drained their private resources ; and as for ftirther aid, that is out of the ques^ tion ; the galantuomo is bankrupt. But the Atheists are desperate, and we must prepare for events.'
On the morning after their arrival, the Cardinal invited Lothair to a stroll in the park. * There is the feeling of spring this morning,' said his Eminence, ' though scarcely yet its vision.' It was truly a day of balm, and sweetness, and quickening life ; a delicate mist hung about the huge trees and the masses of more distant woods, and seemed to clothe them with that fulness of foliage which was not yet theirs. The Cardinal discoursed much on forest trees, and
LOTH AIR.
69
happily. He recommended Lothair to read Evelyn's ' Sylva.' Mr. Evelyn had a moet accomplished nuod ; indeed, a eharacter in every respect that approached per- (ectioB. He was also a moat reli^oua mail.
' I wander,' anid Lothair, ' how any man who Is religiona can tUink of anything but religion.'
' Tiiae,' said the Cardinal, and looking at him earnestly, ' most tme. Bat all things that are good and beautifal make iia more religions. Tliey tend to the development of the religious principle in as, which is our divine nature. And, my dear young friend,' and here his Emiuence pnt Ilia arm easily and affectionately into that of Lothuir's, ' it is a most happy thing for yon that you live so much with a really religions family. It is a great boon for a. youn^
' I feel it so,' said Lothair, his face kindling.
' Ah I ' Baid the Cardinal, * when we remember that thia cOTuitry once consisted only of sach families ! ' And then, with a sigh, and aa if speaking to himself, ' and they made it so great and so beautiful 1 '
' It is still great and beautiful,' said Lothair, bat rather ia a tone of enquiry than decision.
■ But the cause of its greatness and its beauty no longer exists. It became great and beautiful because it believed in God.'
' Bat faith ia not extinct P ' said Lothair.
* It exists in the Church,' replied the Cardinal with decision. 'All without that pale ia practical atheism,'
* It seems to me that a sense of duty is natural to man,' said Lotliair, ' and that tliore can be no satisfRotioii in life withoQt attempting to fulfil it.'
' Noble words, my dear young friend ; noble and tme. And the highest duty of man, especially in this age, is to vindicate the principles of religion, without which the world moat noon become a scene of universal desolation.'
70 LOTH AIR.
* I wonder if England will ever again be a religioaa oonntrj/ said Lothair mnainglj.
* I pray for that daily/ said the Cardinal ; and he invited his companion to seat himself on the tnmk of an oak that had been lying there since the autumn £bi11. A slight hectic flame played over the pale and attenuated countenance of the Cardinal ; he seemed for a moment in deep thought ; and then in a voice distinct yet somewhat hushed, and at first rather <ering, he said, ' I know not a gprander or a nobler career for a young man of talents and position in this age, than to be the champion and asserter of Divine truth. It is not probable that there could be another con- queror in our time. The world is wearied of statesmen, whom democracy has degraded into politicians, and of orators who have become what they call debaters. I do not believe there could be another Dante, even another Milton. The world is devoted to physical science, because it believes these discoveries will increase its capacity ot' luxury and self-indulgence. But the pursuit of science leads only to the insoluble. When we arrive at that barren term, the Divine voice summons man, as it summoned Samuel ; all the poetry and passion and sentiment of human nature are taking refuge in religion ; and he whose deeds and words most nobly represent Divine thoughts, will be the man of this century.'
'But who could be equal to such a task,' murmured Lothair.
' Yourself^' exclaimed the Cardinal, and he threw his glittering eye upon his companion. * Anyone with the necessary gifts, who had implicit faith in the Divine pur- pose.'
' But the Church is perplexed ; it is ambiguous, contra- dictoiy.'
'No, no,' said the Cardinal ; 'not the Church of Christ) it is never perplexed, never ambiguous, never contradio-
LOTH AIR.
tory. Why ahonld it be ? How conid it be ? The Dlriiie persons ftro ever with it, Btrengthening and gnidiDg it with perpeCoa) miiuclea. Perplexed cburches are cbnrchee made by At-t of Parliamont, not by God.'
Lotbejr deemed to start, &ud looked at his gnardian with ft scmtmisitig glance. And then he said, but not witliout heeitatioii, ' I eiperience at times great despondency.'
'Naturally,' replied the Cardinal. ' Every man must be doapondent who is not a Christian.'
' Bat I am a Christian,' said Lothalr.
* A Chriati&n estranged,' said the Cardinal ; ' a ChriBtion
Illtboat the conaolationB of ChrtsLianity.' ft* There ia something in that,' said Lothair. *I reqaire IB coosolationB of Christianity, and yet I feel I have them trt. Why is this ? ' ' Because what yon call your religion is a thing apart from yonr life, and it ought to be your life. Bieligion ^^bould be the rale of life, not a casual incident of it. There ^^Ksol a duty of existence, not a joy or sorrow which the ^^Hric«8 of the Church do not assert, or with which they ^^b not sympathise. Tell me, now ; you have, I wqa glad to hear, attended the services of the Chnrcli of late, since yon have been under this admirabb roof, Have yon not then found some consolation ? '
' Tea ; without doubt I have been often solaced.' And Lothair sighed.
' What the soul is to man, the Church is to the world,' aaid the Cardba!. ' It is the link between us and tlie Divine nature. It came from heaven complete ; it baa never changed, and it can never alter. Its ceremonies are I of celestial truths; its services are suited to all the a of man ; they strengthen him in bis wisdom and bis rity, and contivl and save him in the hour of passion 1 temptation. Taken aa a whole, with all its miniHtra- I, its orders, its offices, and the divine aplendoor of ita
72 LOTH AIR.
ntual, it secnret ns on earth some adnmbratioii of thai in- efiable glory which awaits the fiiithfal in heaven, when the blessed Mother of Ood and ten thousand saintr psr- petnallj guard us with Divine intercession.'
' I was not taught these things in mj boyhood,' said Lothair.
* And you might reproach me and reasonably, as your guardian, for my neglect,* said the CardinaL * Bat my power was very limited, and when my duties commenced, you must remember that I was myself estranged from the Church, I was myself a Parliamentary Christian, till de- spondency and study and ceaseless thought and prayer, and the Divine will, brought me to light and rest. But I at least saved you from a Presbyterian University ; I at least secured Oxford for you ; and I can assure you of my many struggles that was not the least.'
' It gave the turn to my mind,' said Lothair, * and I am grateful to you for it. What it will all end in, Qod only knows,'
' It will end in His glory and in yours,' said the Car- dinal. ' I have spoken perhaps too much and too freely, but you greatly interest me, not merely because you are my charge and the son of my beloved friend, but because I perceive in you great qualities; qualities so great,' con- tinued the Cardinal with earnestness, Hhat, properly guided, they may considerably affect the history of this country, and perhaps even have a wider range.'
Lothair shook his head.
' Well, well,' continued the Cardinal in a lighter tone, * we will pursue our ramble. At any rate, I am not wrong in this, that you have no objection to join in my daily
prayer for the conversion of this kingdom to religious
truth,' his Eminence added after a pause.
* Yes ; religious truth,' said Lothair, * we must all pray for that.'
CHAPTEE XVin.
'HAiK returned to town excited and agitated. He felt that he was on the eve of some great event in hie existence, bat its precise cbnracter waa not defined. Otie conclnnioQ, however, waa indubitable : life mast be religion. When we consider wbat is at stake, and that onr eternal welfare depends on onr dne preparation for the future, il was fohy to spare a single hour from the consideration of the best means to secure our readiness. Such a subject does not admit of half measures or of halting opinions. It seemed to Lolhair that nothing could interest him in life that waa not sjmboUcal of Divine truths and an adumbration of the celestial hereafter.
Could truth have descended from heaven ever to be dis- torted, to bo corrupted, misapprehended, misonderstood ? Impossible ! Such a behcf wonld confound and contradict ail the attributes of the All-wise and the All-mightj. There moat be trntji on earth now as fresh and complete as it waa at Bethichem. And how could it be preserved but hj the influence of the Paraclete acting on an ordained class ? Oil this head his tutor at Oxford had fortified him j by a iviction of tlio Apostolical succession of the English lopa, which no Act of Parhamcnt could alter or affect, it Iiothair was haunted by a feeling that the relations of his Communion with the Blessed Virgin were not satis- hetory. Tbey coald not content either his heart or hia intellect. Was it becoming that a Christian should hve aa regards the ballomed Mother of his God iu a condition of liarsh estrangement? What mediatorial influence more awl\illy appropriate than the consecrated agent of the rCnigbty mystery ? Nor could he, even in his early days, without a scruple the frigid avstem thivt would olaas
Oat
'ztsmri 'v^ni JUil ahsl jl ptsainiiil sciiUiaLicL with tbe
nzxac 2« icimt TTsnnneuasin umaxij in. inisb Eves and cu«en» ■L loisr Tigrr rrrioiicacaiiL. 'vuiinr surks aiKni oct firom ftD
B^>scli*!» irrif SscniifaiiL LfC2air raced ilbeloB^ and \oitj rr^TTTrf w^nrfr ijai ^Msr wuTErrfd lK:r rfaK is. a Loodon botei wsica ;{7mliid 'Sht •ccunol jra-ntTTifrtfr cf Puis and the AiTprxaa. rL^usk T^iecr Xfcwrrr ^raasBBtxsmad their terrible mxfw fzr?i=T£r« wmiii niti hz %zz*r i^ie g*ZjernB» mud portruta cif Vl.txp. Lcc£iftLr fsr*^jal
WiT lii i^ias TTSLt i-nfr ec*£ r W^t dSd the wtn4d oon- sBiC df mz.TiLE=f? euitf tiL3 T^aS:? p&iMs in femT parka» or tiae be c<i2>«r ibi£ s pierc«-:;=&I HvOr W«ckr He never scrhed as V;&=lx». Wtt ~r He s:L7o»ed it was becaoae tLe7« ?%J£pc3i v&s rSs !ife« a=d bs« : acd he looked aromid him whh a s^:iiiRfr. Tbe Ou^iczal was right: it waa a cxkst Larrr thrrg £:r Lisi to be kiTissr so amch with so trc!T a reockyas finrv.
Tbe doer opesed. aod mci leasts cazae in bearing a large and magnidcent portfolio. It was of moioeco and of pre-* latial parole with broad bands of cold and ahemato orna- ments of a croiss and a coronec A serrant handed to Lothair a letter, which enclosed the her thai opened its lock. Tbe portfolio contained the plans and drawings of the cathedraL
Lothair was lost in admiration of these designs and their execntion. Bat after the first fever of inTestigation waa oyer, he required srmpathT and also information. In a tmlj religioos fiunilj there woold alwavs be a Father Cole- man or a Monsignore Catesbj to gfoide and to instmct.
I Rft«)
I Mrs
LOTH AIR. 75
Int a Proteataat, if he wants aid or adTice on an; matter, only go to his solicitor. But as he proceeded in hia researches, he scnsiblj felt that the bnsiiiesa was one above even an Oratorian or a Monalgnoro. It reqnired a 6ner and a more intimate sj-mpatliy ; a tasto at the same time tnore inspired and more inspiring ; some oua who bleodcd with divine convictions the graceful energy of human feel-. I woald not only animate him to effort bat iciuate bim to its fullitineut. The counsetlor he reqaired
Miss Ai-andeL Ijothair hod quitted Vaoze one week, and it seemed to liim a yeur. During the first fonr-and-tweuty hours he felt like a child who had retnmEMl to Bchool, and the day ftfWr like a man on a dosort island. Various other foi-aia misery and misfortune were suggested by his succeeding lerience. Town brought no distractions to bim ; he very few people, and these he had not yet oncoun- ired ; he had once ventured to White'e, but found only a l^roDp of grey-headed men, who evidenyy did not know him, and who seemed to scan him with cynical noncha- lance. These were not the golden youth who be bad been BBSorcd by Bertram would greet bim : so, after reading a newspajier fur a moment upside downwards, he got away. But he had no harbour of refuge, and was obliged to ride down to Bichmond and dine alone and meditate on symbols »ad celestial adumbrations. Every day he felt how inferior waa this existence to that of a hfe in a truly religious
Bnt of all the members of the family to which his
recurred with such unflagging interest none more
itly engaged hia thoughts tbon Miss Arundel. Her
which stimulated bis intelligen^je while it
nther piqnod hia self-love, exercised a great influence over
and he had omitted no opportunity of enjoying her
liety. That society and it« animating power be sadly
76 LOTH AIR.
missed ; and now that he had before him the very about which they had frequently talked, and she was not by his side to suggest and S3rmpathise and criticise and praise, he felt unusually depressed.
Lothaiir corresponded with Lady St. Jerome, and was aware of her intended movements. But the return of the family to London had been somewhat delayed. When this disappointment was first made known to him his impulse was to ride down to Yauxe ; but the tact in which he was not deficient assured him that he ought not to reappear on a stage where he had alrt^ady figured for perhaps too con- siderable a time ; and so another week had to be passed, softened, however, by visits from the Father of the Ora- tory and the Chamberlain of his Holiness, who came to look after Lothair with much friendliness, and with whom it was consolatory and even delights for him to converse on sacred art, still holier things, and also Miss Arundel.
At length, though it seemed impossible, this second week elapsed, and to-morrow Lothair was to lunch with Lady St. Jerome in St. James's Square, and to meet all his friends. He thought of it all day, and he passed a restless night. He took an early canter to rally his energies, and his fancy was active in the splendour of the spring. The chesnuts were in silver bloom, and the pink May had flushed the thorns, and banks of sloping turf were radiant with plots of gorgeous flowers. The waters glittered in the sun, and the air was fragrant with that spell which only can be found in metropolitan mignionette. It was the hour and the season when heroic youth comes to great decisions, achieves exploits, or perpetrates scrapes.
Nothing could be more cordial, nothing more winning, than the reception of Lothair by Lady St. Jerome. She did not conceal her joy at their being again together. Even Miss Arundel, though still calm, even a little demure,
I
I
LOTH AIR.
77
i glad to see Hm : her ejea looked kind and pimsed, BJid ahe gare liim her band with graceful heartineBs. It waa ihe Bacred bonr of two when Lotbair arriTed, and they were aommuned to loncheon alrnoit immediately.
wn lliey wore not alone ; Lord St, Jerome was not there, |Bt the priests were present and some others. Lothair, ?ver, sate next to Miss Arandel. hare been thinking of yon very oflen since I left hnie,' said Lothair to his neighbour. 1 'Charitably, I am Bure."
' I have boon thinking of yon every day," he continued,
r I wanted your advice.'
* Ah ! but that is not a popnlar thing to give.'
' But it IB precious : at least, yours is to mo, and I want it now very much.'
'Father Coleman told me you had got the pinna for the CAthodr&l,' Raid Miss Arnndcl.
' And I want to show them to yon.'
' I fear I am only a critic,' said Miss Arundel, ' and I do not admire mere critics. I was very free in my oommentt to jou on Bereral subjecta at Vauxe ; and I most now Bay I thoaght you bore it very kindly.'
'I was enchanted,' said Lotliair, 'and desire nothing but to be ever subject to Bueh remarks. But this affair of the catLedral, it is your own thought ; I would fain hope your own wish, for unless it were your own wish 1 do not think I ever should be able to accomplish it.'
' And when the cathedral is built,' said Miss Amndel, ' what then ? '
' Do yon not remember telling ma at Vauae that all Bacred building.i siiould be respected, for that in the long mn tliey generally fell to the professors of the true faith ? '
' Bat when they built St. Peter's, they dedicated it to a saint in heaven,' said Miss Arunilel. ' To whom is yonrs to be inscribed ? '
7S LOTH AIR.
* To a saint in heaven and on earth,' said Lothair, bhisb- ing ; 'to St. Glare.'
Bat Lady St. Jerome and her gnests rose at this moment, and it is impossible to saj with precision whether this last remark of Lothair absolatelj reached the ear of Miss Arundel. She looked as if it had not. The priests and the other guests dispersed. Lothair accompanied the ladies to the drawing-room : he lingered, and he was me- ditating if the occasion served to saj more.
Lady St. Jerome was writing a note, Miss Arundel was arranging some work, Lothair was affecting an interest in her employment in order that he might be seated by her and ask her questions, when the groom of the chambers entered and enquired whether her Ladyship was at home, and being answered in the affirmative retired, and an- nounced and ushered in the Duchess and Lady Gorisande.
CHAPTER XIX.
It soomed that the Duchess and Lady St. Jerome were intimate, for they called each other by their Christian names, and kissed each other. The young ladies also were cordial. Her Grace greeted Lothair with heartiness ; Lady Gorisande with some reserve. Lothair thought she looked very radiant and very proud.
It was some time since they had all met, not since the end of the last season, so there was a great deal to talk about. There had been deaths and births and marriages, which required a flying comment ; all important events : deaths which solved many difficulties, heirs to estates which were not expected, and weddings which surprised everybody.
* And have you seen Selina? ' enquired Lady St. Jerome.
LOTH AIR.
m
M
iamm&, tfa-is u oar Grsc visit,' replied
' Kot jet ; except n the Duchess.
' Ah ! that is real friendship ! She eiime down to Vame the other day, bat I did not think she was looking well. She &ots hereetf too mach about her boys ; she does not know what to do with them. They will not go into the Cboruh, and they have no fortune for the GuardB.'
' I understood that Loi-d Platitagenet was to be a civil engineer,* said Lady Corisande.
'Add Lord AJbert Victor to have a sheep-walk in Aostralia,' continned Lady St. Jerome.
' They say that a lord must not go to the bar,' said Sliss Arundel. ' It seems to me very unjust.'
' Alfred Beaufort wont the circuit,' said I>ady Corisande, ' bnt I believe thoy drove him into Pail i anient.'
' yon will misB your friend Bertram at Oiford,' i Ducbess, addressing Lothair.
' Indeed,' said Lothair, rather confused, for self a defaulter in collegiate attendance. going to writd to him to see whether one ci haif a terta.'
'Oh! nothing will prevent his taking hia degree,' said the Duchesfl, ■ hut I fear there must be some delay. There is A vacancy for onr county : Mr. Sandstone is dead, and they infiist upon returning Bertram. I liope lie will be of age before the nomination. The Duke is much op- posed to it ; ho wishes him to wait ; bat in these days it la Bot BO easy for young men to get into Parliament. It is not Its it used to be ; wc cannot choose.'
' Tliia is an important event,' said Lothair to Lady Cori-
• I think it ia ; nor do I believe Bertram is too young for public life. Tliese are not times to be laggard.'
'There is no doubt they are very acrioua times,' said txithair.
aid the
r he was him- ' I was just luld not keep
8o LOTH AIR.
' I have every confidence in Bertram, in his abilify tnd hJB principlefl.'
The ladies began to talk abont the approaching Drawing- room and Lady Gorisande's presentation, and Lothair thonght ib right to make his obeisance and withdraw. He met in the hall Father Coleman, who was in fact looking after him^ and would have induced him to repair to the Father's room and hold some interesting conversation, bnt Lothair was not so congenial as usual. He was even abrupt^ and the Father, who never pressed anything, Ajmnming that Lothair had some engagement, relinquished with a serene brow, but not without chagrin, what he had deemed might have proved a golden opportunity.
And yet Lothair had no engagement, and did mot know where to go or what to do with himself. But he wanted to be alone, and of all persons in the world at that moment, he had a sort of instinct that the one he wished least to converso with was Father Coleman.
' She has every confidence in his principles,' said Lothair to himself as he mounted his horse, 'and his principles were mine six months ago, when I was at Brentham. De- licious Brentham ! It seems like a dream ; but everything seems like a dream : I hardly know whether life is agony or bliss.'
CHAPTER XX.
The Duke was one of the few gentlemen in London who lived in a palace. One of the half dozen of those stately structures that our capital boasts had fallen to his lot.
An heir apparent to the throne, in the earlier days of the present dynasty, had resolved to be lodged as became a prince, and had raised, amid gardenn which he had diverted
1 ova of Uie royal [inrks, an edifice not nnworUiy of Vioenea in its best days, though on a far more eitensivo scale tltiui any pile that faTonred city boa»ts. Before tlio pnliu^a was finished the prince died, and irretrieTably in debt. His c-secotors were glad to sell to the tnistcea of the anecstors of the chief of the house of Brentham the incomplete palace, which ought never to have been commenced. The ancestor ROf the Duke HTW by no means so stronEr a man as the Duke ^^BfanseU', and pmdent people rather mnrmurod at the ex- ^Hlcrit. But it na» what is called a Incky family ; that ia to *%iy, A family with ft charm that always attracted and ab- sorbed heiresses; and perhaps the Hplendonr of Ckecv House, for it always retained ita original title, might have in some degree contributed to fascinate the taste or imagina- tion of the beautifol women who, generation afler genera- tion, brought Uieir bright casllcs and their broad manors to swell the state and rent-rolls of the family who were so * ind to Tjothair.
f The centre of Crocy House consisted of a hall of vast
Mrtion, and reaching to the roof. Ita walls com-
rated, in pointings by the most celebrated artiB*.s of
t ag«, the exploits of the Black FHiice; ftnd its eoved
, panels resplendent with Venetian gold, was
Sght with the forms and portraits of English heroes. A
pridor round this hall contained the most celebi-ated
H^ate cnllection of pictures in England, and opened into
\ It waa a rather early hour when I^thuir, the morning r bis meeting the Duchess at Lady St. Jerome's, colled t Crocy Honse ; bnt it was only to leave his card. Ht would not delay for a moment paying his respects there, ind yet ha shrank from thrusting himself immediately
into the circle. The Duke's brougham w
1 the conrb-
Lothuir was holding his groom's herso, who hod
82 LOTH AIR.
dismounted, when tlie hall-door opened and his Grace and Bertram came forth.
' Halloa, old fellow ! * exclaimed Bertram, * only think of your being here. It seems an age since we met. The Duchess was telling us about you at breakfast.'
' Go in and see them,' said the Duke, ' there is a large party at luncheon ; Victoria Montairy is there. Bertram and I aro obliged to go to Lincoln's Inn, something about his election.'
But Lothair murmured thanks and declined.
* What are you going to do with yourself to-day ?' said the Duke. And Lothair hesitating, his Grace oontinaed: * Well then, come and dine with us.'
* Of course you will come, old fellow. I have not seen you since you left Oxford at the beginning of the year. And then we can settle about your term.' And Lothair consenting, they drove away.
It was nine o'clock before they dined. The days were getting very long, and soft, and sweet ; the riding parties lingered amid the pink May and the tender twib'ght breeze. The Montairys dined that day at Crecy House, and a charming married daughter without her husband, and Lord and Lady Clanmome, who were near kin to the Duchesa, and themselves so good-looking and agreeable that they were as good at a dinner-party as a couple of first-rate entrees. There was also Lord Carisbrooke, a young man of distinguished air and appearance; his own master, with a large estate, and thxce years or so older than Lothair.
Tlicy dined in the Chinese saloon, which was of moderate dimensions, but bright with fantastic forms and colours, brilliantly lit up. It was the privilege of Lothair to hand the Duchess to her scat. He observed that Lord Caris* brooke was placed next to Lady Corisande, though he had not taken hor out..
I
LOTH AIR.
' This dtimer reminds me of my visit to Brcnthun,' saiH Lothair.
•Almost the same party," aud the Duchess.
* The visit to Breutham was the happiest time of my life,' said Lothair moodily.
' But you have seen a great deal since,' said the Dnchosa.
' I am not BO Bare it is of any use seeing things,' said Utbair.
When the ladies retired, there was some talk abont bones. Lord Carisbroofce was breeding ; Lothair thought it was a doty to breed, but not to go on the tnrf. Lord Curiabrooke thanght there conld be no good breeding nitb- oat TUKxag; Lothair was of opinioQ that races might be ooofincd to one's own park», with no legs admitted, and immense prizes, which most canse emolation. Then they joined the ladies, and then, in a short time, tlicre was music. Lothair hovered about Lady Corisnnde, and at last seized a happy opportanity of addressing her.
■ 1 shall never forget your singing at Brentbom," he said ; 'at first I thought it might he aa I^dy Montairy said, because I was not used to liue singing ; but I heard the Venosina the other day, and I prefer your voice and Myle.'
' Hare you heard the Vcnusinap* said I^ady Corisnnde with animation ; ' I know nothing that 1 look forward to with more interest. But I waa told she was not to open her mouth until she appeared at the 0[.<era. Where did yon hear her ? '
' Oh. I hciud her,' said Lothair, ' at the Roman Catholic Oalhedral.'
" I am sore I a!ia!l never hear her there," said Lady Coriaaode, looking very gniro.
• Do not yom think music a powerful accessory to re!i- gton ?' said Tiothair, but a little embarrassed.
' Within certain hniite,' said Lady Corisandn, ' the limita
I
84 LOTH AIR.
I am used to ; but I should prefer to bear Opera singers at the Opera.'
* Ah ! if all amateurs could sing like you/ said Lothair, ' that would be unnecessary. But a fine Mass by Mozart requires great skill as well as power to render it. I admire no one so much as Mozart, and especially his Masses. 1 have been hearing a great many of them lately/
* So we understood,' said Lady Corisande rather dryly, and looking about her as if she were not much interested, or at any rate not much gratified, by the conversation.
Lothair felt he was not getting on, and he wished to get on ; but he was socially inexperienced, and his resources not much in hand. There was a pause ; it seemed to him an awkward pause ; and then Lady Corisande walked away and addi'essed Lady Clanmome.
Some very fine singing began at this moment ; the room was hushed, no one moved, and Lothair, undisturbed, had the opportunity of watching his late companion. There was something in Lady Corisande that to him was irre- sistibly captivating; and as he was always thinking and analysing, he employed himself in discovering the cause. * She is not particularly gracious,' he said to himself, * at least not to me ; she is beautiful, but so are others ; and others, like her, are clever, perhaps more clever. But there is something in her brow, her glance, her carriage, which indicates what they call character, and interests me. Six months ago I was in love with her, because I thought she was like her sisters. I love her sisters, but she is not the least like them.'
The music ceased ; Lothair moved away, and he ap- proached the Duke.
* I have a favour to ask your Grace,' he said. * I have made up my mind that I shall not go back to Oxford this term ; would you do me the great fiivour of presenting mc at the next Levee P '
CHAPTER XXI.
t'i life changes
moment, iquaiutaii
Haifa
n^o,
Lo-
thalr, williont an acquaiutaDcci, was meditating Lis rotnm to Oifonl, Now he Beeraed to know everybody who was anybody. His table was oyerfiowing with invitations to all the fine bouses in town. First camo the routs and Uie baits ; then, wbea he bad been presented to the fausbandf, i;ame the dinners. His kind iViesds the Ducbesn and Lady St. Jerome were the fiiiries who had worked this andden ttueiie of enchantment. A single word from them, and I>mdon WU3 at Lotbair's feot.
He liked it amazingly. He quite forgot the conclnsion at which be had arrived respecting society a year ago, drMWii from hia vast experience of the single party which
} bad then attended. Feeliogs are different when yon a great many persons, and every person is trying to ) yon ; above ail, when there are individuals whom yoD want to meet, and whom, if you do not meet, you b^ oome restli^ss.
To«rii was beginning to blane. Eronghama whirled nnd
Ight barouches glanced, troopa of social cavalry cantered 3 carncoUed in moming rides, and the bells of prancing Dies, laiihed by delicate bands, gingled in the laugliing I. There were stoppages in Bond Street, which seems cap the climax of civilisBtion, after ci''jwdc'd clubs and arming porks. But the great event of the season was the presentation ' of Lodj Corisande, Traly our bright maiden of Brentham woke and famd herself famous. There are famiiies whom everybody praiNCB, and families who are treated in a dif- rorenl way. Either will do ; all the sons and daughters of the Grst Buccecd, all the sons and dat^btcra of tlis
drawn t
16 LOTHAIR,
last arc encouraged in perverscnesa by the prophetic determination of society. Half a dozen married siRten, who were the delight and ornament of their circles, in the case of Lady Gorisando were good precursors of popa- larity ; but the world would not be content with that : they credited her with all their charms and winning qualities, but also with something grander and beyond comparison ; and from the moment her fair cheek was sealed by the gracious approbation of Majesty, all the critics of the Court at once vecognised her as the cynosure of the Empyrean.
Monsignore Catesby, who looked after Lothair, and was always breakfasting with him without the necessity of an invitation (a fascinating man, and who talked upon all sub- jects except High Mass), knew every thing that took place at Court without being present there himself. He led the conversation to the majestic theme, and while he seemed to be busied in breaking an egg with delicate precision, and hardly listening to the frank expression of opinions which he carelessly encouraged, obtained a not insufficient share of Lothair's views and impressions of human beings and affairs in general during the last few days, which had wit- nessed a Levee and a Drawing-room.
* Ah ! then you were so fortunate as to know the beauty before her debut,* said the Monsignore.
* Intimately ; her brother is my friend. I was at Brent- ham last summer. Delicious place ! and the most agreeable visit I ever made in my life, at least, one of the most agree- able.'
* Ah I ah ! ' said the Monsignore. * Let me ring for some toast.'
On the night of the Drawing-room, a great ball was given at Crecy House to celebrate the entrance of Corisande into the world. It was a sumptuous festival. The palace, re- sonant with fantastic music, blazed amid illumined gardens rich with summer warmth.
LOTH AIR. t7
\ A prince of tLe blood was dancing witb Ludy Conannilc. 'as there, TtS'a-vis frith Itlisa Aroiidel. ' I delight in this boll,' she said to Lolhoir ; ' but Law koperior the pictured scene to the reality ! ' ' What ! would yon like, tlsen, to be in a battle ? ' ■ I Bhonld like to bo with hcroea, wherever tliey might Iw, What a fine chamcter w&s the Black Pi-iuce ! And they call those days the days of snperstition !'
The Biker horns sounded a brave flourish. Lothair had to advance and meet Lady Corisande. Her approaching i| mien was full of grace and majesty, bot Lothair thon^hC ^^piere was ft kind expreasioii in her glance, which M^meO ^B» rcmoinbcr fireatham, and that he was her brother'^ ^Hbend.
A little later in the evening he was her partner. He
conld not refrain from congratulating her on the beauty
■nd the success of the festival.
^m ' I am glad you are pleased, anH f. am glad yon tliink it
^fescceesfdl ; but, yon know, I am no judge, fur Lliis is my
^■ntbatU'
^" 'Ah! to be sure; and yet it seems impossible,' ho cou- tiuQod, in a tone of murmuring admii-ation.
' Oh ! I have been at little dances at ray sisters ;' half Iwhicd the door,' she added, with a slight sinilo. 'But H-ntght 1 am preuent at a scene of which I liave only
■ And how do you like balls P ' said Lothair.
' I thick I shall like tbcm very mnch,' e ; ' but to-night, I will confess, I rvons,' ' Yon do not look ho.'
* I am glad of that' •Why?'
* Is it not a sign of weaknoss ? '
■ Can feeling be weak ueas P '
fiaid Lady un a little
r^
88 LOTH AIR.
'Feeb'ng witliont sufficient cause Is, I should think.' And then, and in a tone of some archness, she said, * And how do jou like balls ? '
* Well, I like them amazingly,' said Lothair. * They seem to me to have every quality which can render an entertainment agreeable: music, light, flowers, beautifnl faces, graceful forms, and occasionally charming conversa- tion.'
' Yes ; and that never lingers,' said Lady Corisande, * for see, I am wanted.'
When they were again undisturbed, Lothair regretted the absence of Bertram, who was kept at the House.
^ It is a great disappointment,* said Lady Coriscuide ; * bat he will yet arrive, though late. I should be most unhappy though, if he were absent from his post on such an occasion I am sure if he were here I could not dance.'
* You are a most ardent politician,' said Lothair.
* Oh ! I do not care in the least about common politics, parties and office and all that ; I neither regard nor under- stand them,* replied Lady Corisande. * But when wicked men try to destroy the country, then I like my family to be in the front.*
As the destruction of the country meditated this night by wicked men was some change in the status of tho Church of England, which Monsignore Catesby in tho morning had suggested to Lothair as both just and expe- dient and highly conciliatory, Lothair did not pursue the theme, for he had a greater degree of tact than usually falls to the lot of the ingenuous.
The bright moments flew on. Suddenly there was a mysterious silence in the hall, followed by a kind of sup- pressed stir. Everyone seemed to be speaking with bated breath, or, if moving, walking on tiptoe. It was tho suppcfr hour:
Soft hoar which irakes the wish and molts the hearL
LOTHA IR.
8.)
Royalty, followed bj the impcriul prtscnca of ambtt»- Budors, and escorted by n grouji of diusEling dnchesses find piiliulins of liigli degree, was osliered with courteoas pomp by the hoat and bost^sa 111(0 ik clioice saloon, hong with rosc-cciloiirod tapestry and illDninud by chandeliers of crystal, where they were served from gold plate. But tho thonsaod less favoared were not badly off, when they found tlieniselves in tlie more capncians chanibere, into which tliey msbed with an engerneHa hardly in keeping with the aploadid nonchalance of the preai^ding hourB.
' What a perfoot family,' exclaimed Hugo Bohnn, aa he extracted a conple of fat Iittl« birds from their bed of ftiqiio jelly ; ' everything thry do in BQch perfect tuate. Uow safe yoa were here to have ortolans for Eupper ! '
All the little round tables, tliongh thoir unnibcr was inGoite, were fall. Male groups hung about; some in attendance on fair doniBS, some foraging fur tliomqelvea, ■ome thoughtful and more patient and awaiting a Batis- fiidory fntnre. Never was such an elegant clatter,
' I wonder where Carisbrooka is,' said Hu^o Bohnn. ' They say ho is wotideri'ully taken with tlie bcaubeoos (taagtit^r of the house.'
■ 1 will back the Duke of Brc of his companions. ' H: jMtorday.*
' Hem ! '
' The end is not so ' wwiHnilor.
' I do not know that,' said Hngo Bohau. ' It i^ a family that marries off quickly. If a fellow is obliged to many, lio always UkCH to marry one of them,'
' What of this new star ? ' said his friend, and lie men- tioned Loth air.
'Oh! ho is loo young; not launched. Besides he is f!tiing to turn Catholic, and I doubt wbotlier that would do in that quarter.'
1 against htm,' said one ivod about her at White's
1 all that,' Eaid 1
tliird
90 LOTH AIR.
* Bat ho has a gprcaler fortune than any of thenu*
' Immense ! A man I know, who knows another
man ' and then ho began a long statistical story alM>ut
Lothair*s resources.
* Have you got any room here, Hugo ? ' drawled out Lord St. Aldegonde.
* Plenty, and here is my chair.*
' On no account ; half of it and some soup will satisfy me.'
' I should have thought you would have been with the swells,' said Hugo Bohun.
^That does not exactly suit me,' said St Aldegonde. ' I was ticketed to the Duchess of Salop, but I got a first> rate substitute with the charm of novelty for her Graoe^ and sent her in with Lothair.'
St. Aldegonde was the heir apparent of the wealthiest, if not the most ancient, dukedom in the United Kingdom. He was spoiled, but he knew it. Had he been an ordinary being, he would have merely subsided into selfishness and caprice, but having good abilities and a good disposition, he was eccentric, adventurous, and sentimentaL Notvnth- standing the apathy which had been engendered by pre- mature experience, St. Aldegonde held extreme opinions, especially on political affairs, being a republican of the reddest dye. He was opposed to all privilege, and indeed to all orders of men, except dukes, who were a necessity He was also strongly in favour of the equal division of all property, except land. Liberty depended on land, and the greater the landowners, the greater the liberty of a country. He would hold forth on this topic even with energy, amazed at anyone differing from him ; ' as if a fellow could have too much land,' he would urge with a voice and glance which defied contradiction. St. Aldegonde had married for love, and he loved his wife, but he was strongly in favour of woman's rights and their extremest consequences. It was thought that he had originally adopted these latter views
LOTH AIR. 91
witli tfao amiable intcntioa ofpiqniiig Lady St. Aldegonde; but if 80, he had not succeeded. Beamicg with brightness, with the Toice aod airiness of a bird, and a cloudless lemper, AJbertha St. Aldegondo had, from the first hour of her marriage, coDCentrated her intelligeuce, which wna not mean, on one objet;t; and that was nertr to cross her linsbaitd on any conceivable topic. Tiicj had been married eereral years, and she treated liim ae a darling sfioiled child. When ho criod for the moon, it was promiaed him immediately ; however irrational his proposition, she always assented to it, (hongh generally by tact and vigilance she guided him in the right direction. Nevertheless, St. Aide- gonde was sometimes in scrapes ; but then be always yreot and told hia best friend, whose greatest delight was to ectricate bitp from his perplexities and embarrassments.
CHAPTER XXII.
AlfTHoroH Lolhair was not in the slightest degree shaken in hia conviction that lii'e should be entirely religions, he was perplexed by the inevitable obstacles which seemed perpetually to oppose themselves to the practice of hia o[»iaiocB. It was not merely plcaanre in its multiform ap. peara:ices that he hod to contend against, but basineaa bogan imperiously to solicit his attention. Every month brought him nearer to his majority, and the frequent letters from Mr. Patney Giles now began to assume the pressing shape of solicitationa for personal interviews. He had B long conversation one morning with Father Coleman on this subject, who greatly relieved him by the assurance tliat a perfectly religions life was one of which the sove- reign purpose was to uphold the interests of tlie Omrch; ot Christ, tiiB Father added after a momentary pans*,
f$K^
92 LOTH AIR.
]3u8ines8, and even amusement, were not only compatible with BQch a parpose, but might even be condacive to its fulfilment.
Mr. Putney Giles reminded Lotbair that the attainment of his majority must be celebrated, and in a becoming manner. Preparation, and even considerable preparation, was necessary. There were several scenes of action ; some very distant. It was not too early to contemplate arrange- ments. Ijothair really must confer with his guardians. They were both now in town, the Scotch uncle having come up to attend Parliament. Could they be brought together ? Was it indeed impossible ? If so, who was to give the necessary instructions ?
It was much more than a year since Lothair had met his uncle, and he did not anticipate much satisfaction from the renewal of their intimacy ; but every feeling of propriety demanded that it should be recognised, and to a certain degree revived. Lord Culloden was a black Scotchman, tall and lean, with good features, a hard red face and iron grey hair. He was a man who shrank from scenes, and he greeted Lothair as if they had only parted yesterday, liooking at him with his keen, unsentimental, but not unkind eye, he said, * Well, sir, I thought you would have been at Oxford.*
* Yes, my dear uncle ; but circumstances *
* Well, well, I don't want to hear the cause. I am very glad you are not there ; I believe you might as well be at llome.'
And then in due course, and after some talk of the past Hud old times, Lothair referred to the suggestions of Mr. Giles, and hinted at a meeting of his guardians to confer and advise together.
* No, no,' said the Scotch peer, shaking his head ; * I will have nothing to do with the Scarlet Lady. Mr. Giles is an able and worthy man ; he may well be ti*nstcd to draw np
LOTH AIR.
93
% pro^rninmo for uur ormsideratioii, and indeed it in an aFftir in nliicb jonreolf should be racist c<insiiUed. Let all be done liberally, for you bava a great ialiorltauco, and 1 woa!d be no ciirHindgcon in tlieaa matters.'
' Well, my dear oncle, whatever is arron^il, I bopo jou and my cousins will honour and gratify me with your presence tbronghout the prooeediogs.'
'WoU. well, it ia not much in my way. You will ha having balls and fine ladies. There is no fool like an old fool, they say ; but I think, from what I bear, the young fools will beat na in the present day. Only think of young persona going over to the Church of Roroa. Wliy, they are just naturals ! '
The organising genius of Mr. Putney Giles had mrely encountered a more fitting theme than the celebration of tiic impending mnjority. There was place for all his energy and talent and resources : a great central inaugura- tion ; sympathetica] festivals and gatherings in half a dozeu other counties ; the troth, as it were, of a aiatcr kingdom to he pledged ; a vista of balls and banquets, and iUnminations and addresses, of ceaseless sports and speeches, and processions alike endless,
*'\VTiat I wish to effect,' said Mr. Giles, as he was giving his mnltifarians orders, 'is to prudnce among nil classes an impression adequate to the occasion. I wish the lord and Ibo tenantry alike to feel they have a doty to perform."
In the meantime, Monsignoro Cittcsby was prt'saing liothair to become one of the patronx of a Itoman Calboliu Basaar, where l^y St. Jerome and Miss Arundel were to preside over a stall. It was of importance to show that charity was not the privilege of any particular creed.
Between his lawyers, and hts monsigcores, and his mrultitecta, Lothair began to get a little harassed. Ho was disturbed in bis own mind, too, on greater matters, aitil •vtuned to feel cvtiry day that it wati more necessary to take
94 LOTH AIR.
a decided stop, aud more impossible to decide upon what it shonld be. He frequently saw the Cardinal, who was very kind to him, but who had become more reserved on religious subjects. He had dined more than once with his Eminence, and had met some distinguished prelates and some of his fellow nobles who had been weaned firom the errors of their cradle. The Cardinal perhaps thought that the presence of these eminent converts would facili- tate the progress, perhaps the decision, of his ward ; but something seemed always to happen to divert Lothair in his course. It might be sometimes apparently a very slight cause, but yet for the time sufficient ; a phrase of Lady Corisande for example, who, though she never di* rectly addressed him on the subject, was nevertheless deeply interested in his spiritual condition.
* You ought to speak to him, Bertram,' she said one day to her brother very indignantly, as she read a fresh para- graph alluding to an impending conversion. ' You are his friend. What is the use of friendship, if not in such a crisis as this ? '
' I see no use in speaking to a man about love or religion,* said Bertram; 'they are both stronger than friendship. If there be any foundation for the paragraph, my inter- ference would be of no avail ; if there be none, I should only make myself ridiculous.*
Nevertheless, Bertram looked a little more after his friend, and disturbing the Monsignore, who was at break- fast with Lothair one morning, Bertram obstinately out- stayed the priest, and then said : * I tell you what, old fellow, you are rather hippish ; I wish you were in the House of Commons.'
' So do I,' said Lothair, with a sigh ; ' but I have come into everything ready-made. I begin to think it very unfortunate.'
• What are you going to do with yourself to-day ? If you
LOTH AIR.
95
be disengagit'd, I voto wc dine togotbcr st White's, tmd then we will go down to the House. I will take you to tho Brooking- room and intruduco yon to Bright, and vre niU trot bim out on primogeuituri;.'
At this moment the sarvaut bronglit Lothair two letters ; one waa an epistlo from Father Coleman, meeting Lothair'a ol>joctiona to hocoming a patron of the Roman Catholic Bauuu' in a very nnctuons and exhaustive Tnanpcr; anil tho other from hia stud-groom nt Oxford, delalliog some of tboae disagreeable things which will happen with absent _tiuwtters who will not answer letters. Loth^r loved bin table, and felt particnlarly anxious fo avoid the threatened bit of Father Coleman on tha moirow. His decision waa pipid. * 1 must go down this afWruoon to Oilbrd, my dear '. My stable is in confusion. I shall positively a lo-morrow, and I will dine with yon at Wliife's, anJ t will go to the Uouae of Commons together or go to
CHAPTER SXIII.
nBllB's stables were about three miles from Oxford. tey wore a rothcr considerable estiiblishmont, in which he 1 taken much interest, and having always intended to a to Ojdbrd in ihe early part of tho year, idtliough he d oooftaioDally sent for a hack or two Co London, his stud ;enonilly maintained. I The morning aftor his arrival, be rode over to the iblcs, whore he bod ordered hia drag to be ready. Abont k qonrtor of a mile before ho reached bis place of destina- Q ht) obacrvcd at some little distance a ci'owd io the road, nijig OD, perceived as be drew nearer a number f nutn clustered round a dismAntlod vehicle, and vainly
rm
96 LOTH AIR.
endoavouriiig to extricate and raise a faUen horae ; its ocno- panion, pauting and foaming, with broken harness bat apparently nninjnrod, standing aside and held by a boj. Somewhat apart stood a lady alone. Lothair immediately dismounted and approached her, saying, * I fear yon are in trouble, madam. Perhaps I may be of service ? *
The lady was rather tall and of a singularly distinguished presence. Her air and her costume alike intimated high breeding and fashion. She seemed quite serene amid the tumult and confusion, and apparently the recent danger. As Lothair spoke, she turned her head to him, which had been at first a little averted, and he beheld a striking coun« tcuanco, but one which he instantly felt he did not see for the first time.
She bowed with dignity to Lothair, and said in a low but distinct voice, * You are most courteous, sir. We have bod a sad accident, but a great escape. Our horses ran away with us, and had it not been for that heap of stones I do not see how we could have been saved.'
* Fortunately my stables are at hand,' said Lothair, * and I have a carriage waiting for me at this moment, not a quarter of a mile away. It is at your service, and I will send for it ;' and his groom, to whom he gave directions, galloped off.
There was a shout as the fallen horse was on his legs again, much cut, and the carriage shattered and useless. A p^entleman came from the crowd and approached the lady. He was tall and fair and not ill-favoured, with fine dark eyes and high cheek bones, and still young, though an enormous beard at the first glance gave him an impression of years the burthen of which he really did not bear. His dress, though not vulgar, was richer and more showy than is usual in this country, and altogether there was som^ thing in his manner which, though calm and full of self- respect, was different from the conventional refinement of
LOTH AIR.
97
} mujit Iw
to ^t My
woB apparently an Engl if osid to tlie ladv, ' It is a bad Lnsiness, but tliitnkr<il it is DO worse. Wliat troubles me ifl liow yon ai-B to get bnelt. It will be a terrible walk over these stony !, and 1 can hear of no conveyance.' '*Hy boEband,' said the lady, as with dimity she pre- Bitcd the person to Lotliair. ' This gentleman,' s)ie oontinoed, ' has most kindly oSbrcd ns the nra of hia carriage, which is almost at hand.'
' Sir, yon are a friend,' said the gontleman. ' I thonght
tliore were no horses that I could not master, bnt it soema
I am mistaken. I bonght these only yesterday; took B
61017 to them aa wo were driving abont, and bought them
^^f a dealer in the road.*
^H|* That seems a clever animal,' said Lothair, pointing to
^■r 'Ah I yon like horses F ' said the gentleman. • Well, I liave some taate that way.' ' We are visitora to Oiford,* said the lady. ' Coloiwl Campian, like all Americans, is very interested in the ancient parts of England.'
'To-day we were ^ing to Blenheim,' said the Colonel ; bat I thoDght I would try these new tits a bit on a by- first.' AU'a well that ends well,' said Lothair ; ' and there is why yon ahonld r.jt fulfil your intention of going Blenheim, for here ts my carriage, and it is entirely at yonr service for the whole day, and, indeed, as long as you Bloy at Oxford.'
quires no coronet on yonr carriapo to tell
lohleman,' Baid the Colonel. ' I like frank
mere, and 1 like your team. I know few things that
■trot ^ToBl
e than lo try them.'
, highly bred, with black i
98 LOTH AIR.
and tails. They had tho Arab eye, with arched necks, and seemed proud of themselves and their master.
' I do not see why we should not go to Blenheim,' said the Colonel.
* Well, not to-day,' said the lady, • I think. We have had an escape, bat one feels these things a little more after- wards than at the time. I would rather go back to Oxford and be quiet ; and there is more than one college which you have not yet seen.'
* My team is entirely at your service wherever yon go," said Lothair ; ' but I cannot venture to drive yon to Ox- ford, for I am there in statu pupillari, and a proctor might arrest us all. But perhaps,' and he approached the lady, ' you will permit me to call on you to-morrow, when I hope I may find you have not suffered by this misadventure.'
* We have got a professor dining with us to-day at seven o'clock,' said the Colonel, ' at our hotel ; and if you are dis- engaged and would join the party, you would add to the favours which you know so well how to confer.'
Lothair handed the lady into the carriage, the Colonel mounted the box and took the ribbons like a master, and the four roans trotted away with their precious charge and their two grooms behind with folded arms and impertur- bable countenances.
Lothair watched the equipage until it vanished in the distance.
' It is impossible to forget that countenance,' he said ; *' and I fancy I did hear at the time that she had married an American. Well, I shall meet her at dinner, that is something.' And he sprang into his saddle.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Thi Oxford Professor, who was the guest of the Anicrican Colonel, naa qnitc a young mnii, of advancod opinions on kll sabjcct«, religious, Hocial, and political. He was clever, extremeljT well -in formed, bo for as books can make a nmn knowing, but unable to profit even by tlmt limited experi- <-noo of life from a restless ranity and overflowing conceit, wbicli prevented him from ever obaerring or thinking of anytliing but himself. He was gifled with a great command of words, which took the form of enilloss exposition, varied by aarcaam and pass^es of ornate jargon. He was the last person one would have expected to recognise in an Oxford pnifesaor ; but we live in times of transition.
A Parisiaa man of science, who had passed his life in alternately fighting at barricades and discovering lilanetj^, had given Colonel Campiau, who had lived much B the French capital, a letter of introduction to the Pro- ior, whose invectives against the principles of English ictj were liajled by foreigners as representative of the {btiinonta of vcnemhle Oxford. The Professor, who wna I eattsfied with his home career, and, like many men of I order of mind, had dreams of wild vanity which > New World, they think, can alone realise, was very 1 to make the Colonel's aci[iiiuntanco, which might eilitato his future movements. So he had lionised the ttinguiflhed vinitora daring the last few days over the Diveraity, and had availed liinisolf of plenteous opportuui- jxliihiting to them his celebrated powers of oxposi- i, Ide talent for sarcasm, which be deemed peerless, and (Terml highly finislied picturesque passages, which were )daced with cxteniporary art.
loo LOTH AIR.
The Professor was mnch surprised when he saw Lotliair enter the ealoon at the hotel. He was the last person in Oxford whom he expected to encounter. Like seden- tary men of extreme opinions, he was a social parasite, and instead of indulging in his nsnal invectives against peers and princes, finding himself unexpectedly about to dine with one of that class, he was content only to dazzle and amuse him.
Mrs. Campian only entered the room when dinner was announced. She greeted Lothair with calmness but amen- ity, and took his offered arm.
' Ton have not suffered, I hope P ' said Lothair.
* Very little, and through your kindness.*
It was a peculiar voice, low and musical, too subdued to call thrilling, but a penetrating voice, so that however ordinary the observation it attracted and impressed atten- tion. But it was in harmony with all her appearance and manner. Lothair thought he had never seen anyone or anything so serene ; the serenity, however, not of humble- ness, nor of merely conscious innocence ; it was not devoid of a degree of majesty; what one pictures of Olympian repose. And the countenance was Olympian: a Phidian face, with large grey eyes and dark lashes; wonderful hair, abounding without art, and gathered together by Grecian fillets.
The talk was of Oxford, and was at first chiefly main- tained by the Colonel and the Professor.
' And do you share Colonel Campian*s feeling about Old England ? ' enquired Lotliair of his hostess.
' The present interests me more than the past^* said the lady, ' and the foture more than the present.*
' The present seems to me as unintelligible as the future,' said Lothair.
'I think it is intelligible,' said the lady, with a faint smile. ' It has many faults, but not, I think the want of oloamess.'
LOTHAIR. ' ,..-.- toi
cot a destmcdre,' said the Profon^Dr,' addreuing "Uie Colonel bat epeaking loudly ; ' I woirfd '-tnaJntfciB Oxford cnder a-ny uircnmslauccs with the ''odcesa&ry cluuiges.'
' And what are those, might I ask ? ' enquired Loth^r.
* In reality not much. I woald get rid of the religion.' .. ' Get rid of the religion ! ' said Lotbair.
t' Too have got rid of it onue,' Koid the Professor. -'^.-J
'Ton haTo altered, yon have what people call refnrmod '"' ' said Lothair, ' but you have nob aboliBhed or oanishod from the UniverBity,'
'The shock wonld not be greater, nor so great, as the change from the Papal to the E«formed Faith. BosideB, Univereitiea have nothing to do with religion,'
' I thought Universities were anivereal,' said Lothajr, 'wid had Bomething to do with everything.'
' I dwmot conceive any Booiety of any kind without ■ligion,' said the lady. ■Iioth&ir glanced at her beautiful brow with dovoliou aa
nttered these worda. I Colonol Canipian began to talk about horsea. AOor that
• Professor proved to him that he was related to Edmund mpian the Jesuit; and then he got to the Gnnpowder
lot, which he was not sure, if snccoEsful, might not have leGcially influenced the coarse of oar history. Probably B Irish difficulty would not then have esisted.
I * I dislike plots,' said tlio lady -, ' they always fail.' 'And whatever their object, are they not essentiidly
immoral?' said Lothair.
*I have more faith in ideas than in persons,' said the ' \Vhen a truth is uttered, it will sooner or later be ■tognised. It is only an allair of time. It ia better thut
^■bould mature and nHtiirally germinate than be forced.' •Ton wonld reduce us to lotus- eaters,' exclaimed the roFcssor- ' Action ia natural to man. And what, after
I02 -. ' LOTH AIR.
all, aro con>»p&acies and rovolutionB but great principlos in violent action? '
' I tlvnk jou must be an admirer of repose,* said Lothair to tbQ.isi^dj, in a low voice.
f Bec^nse I have seen something of action in my life,* .said'tlie lady, 'and it is an experience of wasted energies and baffled thoughts.* .'•• ' When they returned to the saloon, the Colonel and the ' Profemor became interested in the constitution and dis- cipline of the American Universities. Lothair hung aboui the lady, who was examining some views of Oxford, and who was ascertaining what she had seen and what she had omitted to visit. They were thinking of returning home on the morrow.
* Without seeing Blenheim ? ' said Lothair.
* Without seeing Blenheim,' said the lady ; * I confess to a pang ; but I shall always associate with tliat name yout great kindness to us.*
* But cannot we for once enter into a conspiracy together,' said Lothair, ' and join in a happy plot and contrive to go ? Besides I could take you to the private gardens, for the Duke has given me a perpetual order, and they are really exquisite.*
The lady seemed to smile.
* Theodora,* said the Colonel, speaking fit)m the end of the room, * what have you settled about your train to- morrow ? *
* We want to stay another day here,* said Theodora, • and go to Blenheim.*
CnAPTER XXV.
D the private gardcTis at Blenheim. The buh B briUittnt ovor the ornate and jet pictnresqoe scuuo. 'Bcautifnl, is itnot?' eiclaimud Lotliair. * Yis, certwnly beautiful,' £aid Theodoi'a. ' But, do yon know, I do not feel altogether content in these finegai-duns. The prinei|il© of exclusion on which tliey are all founded is to me dtjireBsiug. I reqnire in all things synipathy. You would not agree with me in this. The manners of your uouiilry are founded on exclusion.'
■ But surely there are times and places when one would liVe to be alone?'
' Without donbt,' said the lady, 'only I do not like arti- Grial loneliness. Even your parks, which all the world pruises, do not quite satisty mo. I prefi.T a forest where all may go, even the wild beasts.'
*Bnt forests are not at command,' Eaid Lothair.
1 make a solitude and call it peace,' said the lady, klh ft slight smile. 'For my part, my perfect life would t ft large and beautiful Tillage. I admire nature, but I i the presence of humanity. Life in great cities is I exLausling ; but in my village there should lie wr, s, and beautiful trees, a. picturesque scone, but enough fellnw-creatarca to ensure constant duty." 'But the falSlmont of duty and society founded on what I call the principle of exclusion, are not incompatible,* poi Lothair.
' No, but diflicuU. What should be natural becomes an M±i |lid in every an it is only tlio few who can be first-rate.* I have an ambition to bo a first-rate artist in that r'V rt,' said Loy-oir thoughtfully.
I04 LOTH AIR.
*Tliat does you mnch honour,' slie replied, *fbr yoa neoessarily embark in a most painful enterprise. The toil- ing multitude have their sorrows which, I believe, will somje day be softened, and obstacles hard to overcome ; but 1 have always thought that the feeling of satiety, almost inseparable from large possessions, is a surer cause of misery than ungratiBed desires.'
' It seems to me that there is a great deal to do,' said Loth air.
* I think so,' said the lady.
' Theodora,' said the Colonel, who was a little in advance with the Professor, and turning round his head, ' this re- minds me of Mirabel,' and he pointed to the undulating banks covered with rare shrubs and touching the waters of the lake.
* And where is ^ilirabel ? * said Tx)thair.
' It was a green island in the Adriatic,' said the lady, • which belonged to Colonel Campian ; we lost it in the troubles. Colonel Campian was very fond of it. I try to persuade him that our home was of volcanic origin, and has only vanished and subsided into its native bed.'
* And were not you fond of it ? *
* I never think of the past,' said the lady.
* Oxford is not the first place where I had the pleasure of meeting you,* Lothair ventured at length to observe.
* Yes, we have met before, in Hyde Park Gaixlens. Our hostess is a clever woman, and has been very kind to some Mends of mine.'
* And have you seen her lately ? '
*She comes to see us sometimes. We do not live in London, but in the vicinity. We only go to London for the Opera, of which we are devotees. We do not at all enter general society ; Colonel Campian only likes people who interest or amuse him, and ho is fortunate in having rather a numerous acquaiutance of that kind.'
'Well, I liv the lady. * I occompliEboil su prefer being alot __Ba the main eour nld reside ii
LOTH AIR.
* Bare fortnne ! ' asid Lothair.
* Colonel CftinpiaQ lived a greiit deal at Paris before wo married,' said tlie lady, ' and id a circle of considerable onltore and cxeitocient. Ue is soci;J, but not conTcn-
■B you conveiitional ? '
) only for climate and tbe aflections,' said 1 foud of society tbat pleases me, that is d natui'al and ingenious ; otherwise I le, As for atmosphere, as I look upon it ;o of felicity, you may bo surprised that I 1 your coantry. I should myself like to go b America, bat that wodM not suit Colonel Campian ; and Bwe are to live in Enrope we must live in England. It is ( pleaSEint to reside in a country where, if you hapj:>en b shelter or succour a friend, yon may bo subject to a
ciliary visit.'
■ Tlio Pittfessor stopped to deliver a lecture or address on ) villa of Uadriau. Nothing could bo more minute or Uuresqns than bis description of that celebrated pica- It was varied by portraits of tlie Emperor and 1 of his companions, and, after a rapid glance at the rtnnea of the imperial patriciate, wonnd up with some H favouruble to communism. It was really very »ver, and would have made the fortune of a literary society. *I wonder if tlicy bad gravel walks in thi3 villa of idrian,' said the Colonel. ' What I admire most in your mtry, ray Lord, are your gravel walks, though that lady mid Dot agrL-e with me in t.hst matter.' 'You are against gravel walks,' eaid Lothair. ' Woll, I cannot bring myself to believe that they had ravel walks in the garden of Eden,' said the lady, f They bad a repast at Woodatock, too late for luncheon, D early for dinner, but which it was agreed slionld serve n th« tatt«r mtMiL
1 06 LOTH AIR.
' That guits me exactlj,' said the lady ; ' I am a great foe to dinners, and indeed to all meals. I think when the good time comes we shall give up eating in pnhlic, except perhaps fruit on a green bank with music.*
It was a rich twilight as they drove home, the lady leaning back in the carriage silent. Lothair sat opposite to her, and gazed upon a countenance on which the moon began to glisten, and which seemed unconscious of all human observation.
He had read of such countenances in Grecian dreams : in Corinthian temples, in fanes of Ephesus, in the radiant shadow of divine groves.
CHAPTER XXVI.
When they had arrived at the hotel. Colonel Campian pro- posed that they should come in and have some coffee, but Theodora did not enforce this suggestion, and Lothair feeling that she might be wearied gracefully, though un- willingly, waved the proposal. Remembering that on the noon of the morrow they were to depart, with a happy inspiration, as he said farewell, he asked permission to ac- company them to the station.
Lothair walked away with the Professor, who seemed in a conservative vein, and graciously disposed to make seve- ral concessions to the customs of an ancient country. Though opposed to the land laws, he would operate gradually, and gave Lothair more than one receipt how to save the aristocracy. Lothair would have preferred talking about the lady they had just quitted, but as he soon found the Professor could really give him no informa. tion about her he let the subject drop.
LOTH AIR.
107
The H»em
i Bat not out of hia own mind. He was glad to be aJonc (■d brood over the last two flnya. They were among the >st interesting of hia life. He had encountered a chai- kctcr diSereut from any be bad yet met, had listened to tid his intelhgecco had been stimnlated by remarks made casually in (»sy conversation, and yet to liim pregnant with novel and somctimos serious meaning, The voice, too, lingered in hia ear, so huahed and deep and 1 80 clear and aweet. He leant over hia mant«liiiece in temiog reverie. 'And she is profoundly religious,' ho aiiid to himself; eive no kind of society witiiout religion. She has arrived at the same conclusion as myself. Wliat a privilege it woald be to speak to her on such subject* !'
'ARera restleaa night the morrow came. About elever o'clock Lolhair veotured to call on his new fiienda. The lady waa alone ; ahe was standing by the window reading aji ItAlian newspaper, which she foldi^d up and placed aside wben Lothair was n^monncod.
'We propose to walk to the station,' said Theodora; ^^ tbo servants have gone on. Colonel Campian has a par- ^^koular aversion to moving with any laggnge. He restricts ^^be to tbis,' she said, pointing to her satchel, in which she ^^BmI placed the foreign newspaper, * and for that he will not ^Hv responsible.'
^H^ *It was most kind of you to permit me to accompany yon ^^lis morning,' said Lothair ; ' 1 should have been grieved to have part«d abmptly last night.'
' I could not rofuse such a reqaest," said the lady; 'but duyoD know I never like to say farewell, even for four-and- mty hours. One should vanish like a spirit.' 'Then 1 have erred,' said Lothair, 'againj^t your mica i principles.'
' Say my fancies,' said the lady, ' my hnmoura, my whjma i this is not a farewell. Yoa wiU come and see
io8 LOTH AIR.
as. CoAonel Campian tells mo you have promised to give us that pleasure.'
' It will be the greatest pleasure to me/ said Lothair ; ' I can conceive nothing greater.* And then hesitating a little, and a little blashing, he added, ' When do yon think I might come ? *
* Whenever yon like,' said the lady, * you will always find me at home. My life is this i I ride every day very early, and far into the country, so I return tamed some two or three hours after noon, and devote myself to my friends. We are at home every evening, except opera nights, and let me tell you, because it is not the custom generally among your compatriots, we are always at home on Sundays.'
Colonel Campian entered the room ; the moment of de- parture was at hand. Lothair felt the consolation of being their companion to the station. He had once hoped it might be possible to be their companion in the train ; bnt he was not encouraged.
* Railways have elevated and softened the lot of man,' said Theodora, *and Colonel Campian views them with almost a religious sentiment. But I cannot read in a rail- road, and the human voice is distressing to me amid the whirl and the whistling, and the wild panting of the loosened megatheria who drag us. And then those terrible grottoes ; it is quite a descent of Proserpine ; so I have no resource but my own thoughts.'
* And surely that is sufficient,' murmured Lothair. ' Not when the past is expelled,' said the lady.
* But the future ? * said Lothair.
' Yes, that is ever interesting, but so vague that it some- times induces slumber.'
The bell sounded, Lothair handed the lady to her com- partment.
' Our Oxford visit,' she said, * has been a great success and mainly through you.'
LOTIIAIR.
TV.e Colonel wm profuse in his cordial furewella, and it Beemed they would never have ended hud not the train
Lotbair remained upon the platfoiTn nntil it was ont of flight, &iid then exclaimed, ' Is it a dream, or shull I e
CHAPTER XXVU.
LoniiTB reached London lato in the tiftemoon. Among the Dofes and cards and letl«rs on hia table wati a long and pressing despatch from Mr. Pnlney Giles awaiting hia judgment and decision on many pointe,
' The central inauguration, if I may nse the term,' said Mr. Pntney GiJea, ' is comparatively easy. It ia an ailiur of expense and of labour, great labour; I may say nnre- mitting labour. But your Lordship will observe the other points are not mere points of expense and labour. We havo to consnlt the feelings of acveral counties where yonr Lordship cannot be present, at least certainly not on this occasion, and yet where an adequate recognition of those wntiments which ought to exist between the proprietor and all classes connected with him ought to be secnrod. Then Scotland : Scotland is a very difficult business to manage. It ia astonishing how the ecntimont lingers in that country oonneclod with its old independence. I really am quite surprised at it. One of your Lordship's most important tenants wrote to mo only a few days bock, that great dissatisfaction would prevail among your Lordship's friends and tenantry in Scotland, if that country on ihis Oooaaion were placed on the same level as a mere English oonnty. It mast be rocogniaed as a kingdom. I almoBt thiak it would be bettor if we could persuade Lord Culloden
no
LOTH AIR,
not to attend the English inaogaration, but remain in the kingdom of Scotland, and tako the chair and the load throughout the festal ceremonies. A peer of the reahn, and jour Lordship's guardian, would impart something of a national character to the proceedings, and this, with a judicious emblazoning on some of the banners of the royal arms of Scotland, might have a conciliatory effect. One should always conciliate. But your Lordship on all these points, and especially with reference to Lord Culloden, must be a much bettor judge than I am.'
Lothair nearly gave a groan. ' I almost wish,' he thought, ' my minority would never end. I am quite satisfied with things as they are. What is the kingdom of Scotland to me, and all these counties? I almost begin to feel that satiety which she said was inseparable &om vast pos- sessions.'
A letter ^m Bertram reminding him that he had not dined at White's as he had promised, and suggesting some new arrangement, and another from Monsignore Catesby earnestly urging him to attend a most peculiar and solemn function of the Church next Sunday evening, where the Caidinal would officiate and preach, and in which Lady St. Jerome and Miss Arundel were particularly interested, did not restore his equanimity.
A dinner at White's ! He did not think he could stand a dinner at White's. Indeed he was not sure that he could stand any dinner anywhere, especially in this hot weather. There was a good deal in what she said : * One ought to oat alone.'
The ecclesiastical function was a graver matter. It had been long contemplated, often talked about, and on occa- sions looked forward to by him even with a certain degree of eagerness. He wished he had had an op]K)rtunity of speaking with her on these matters. She was eminently religious ; that she had voluntarily avowed. And he felt
LOTH. 4 1 R.
|<ei-8naded thnt no light or thonghtlesa remark could fall From those tips. He wondered to n'h;it Charcli xhe lio- loogedF Protcatant or Pup&l ? Her hnnbuiid, hoing iiu American, was probably a Protestant, but lie was a gentle- Diiin of tlie South and with nothing puritanical about hinu She WW) a European, and probably of a, Latin luue. In all likelihood she was a Itoman Catholic.
It was Wednesd.iy evoaing, and his valot reminded him that be waa engaged to dine with Lord and Ladv &Iont~
Lothoir sighed. He waa so absorbed by his now fralioga, that be shrunk from socic^ with a certain degree of aver- sion. He folt it quite out of his power to fulhl hia engage- ment. He sent an excuse. It was Lothair'a first excuse. In short, he ' threw over ' the Blontairya, to whom he was BO much attached, whom he so much admired, ntid whose •iieicty he had hitherto so highly prized.
To ' tlirow over ' a host is the most heinous of social crimi'A. It ongbt never to be pardoned. It disjoints a l*rtj, oflcn defeats the combinationa which might olToct the results of a aeaxon, and generally renders the society incoherent and nnsatis factory. If the outi-ape could ever be condoned it might bo in the in.stanco of a young man very iricsperienced, the victim of some uneipuctcd eondi- iJou of nervous feolingB over which the defaulter has really no control.
It wBA evening, and the restless Lothair walked fortli williout a purpose, and in a direction which he rarely ri»it«d. ■ It ia a wonderful place,' said ho, ' this London ; a nation, not a city ; with a population greater than some kiti[;dotns, and districts as dtirercnt as if they were niidor different gnvemments and spoke different languages. Acid what do I know of it ? I have been living here six months, and ray life has boon pasHod in a park, twn or three squares, uid lialf a doaen streets ! '
rp*
112 LOTH AIR.
So be walked on and soon crossed Oxford Streot, like the Rhine a natural boundary, and then got into Portland Place, and then found bimself in the New Road, and then he hailed a cruising Hansom, which he had previously ob- served was well-horsed.
* 'Tis the gondola of London,' said Lothair as he sprang in.
* Drive on till I tell you to stop.*
And the Hansom drove on, through endless boulevards, some bustling, some dingy, some tawdry and flaring, Rome melancholy and mean; rows of garden gods, planned on the walls of yards full of vases and divinities of concrete, huge railway halls, monster hotels, dissenting chapels in the form of Gothic churches, quaint ancient almshouses that were once built in the fields, and tea-gardens and stingo houses and knackers' yards. They were in a district far beyond the experience of Lothair, which indeed had been exhausted when he had passed Eustonia, and from that he had been long separated. The way was broad but ill-lit, with houses of irregular size but generally of low elevation, and sometimes detached in smoked-dried gar- dens. The road was becoming a bridge which crossed a canal, with barges and wharves and timber yards, when their progress was arrested by a crowd. It seemed a sort of procession ; there was a banner, and the lamp-light fell upon a religious emblem. Lothair was interested, and de- sired the driver not to endeavour to advance. The proces- sion was crossing the road and entering a building.
'It's a Roman Catholic chapel,' said a bystander in answer to Lothair. ' I believe it is a meeting about one of their schools. They always have banners.'
* I think I will get out,' said Lothair to his driver. • This I suppose will pay your fare.'
The man stared with delight at the sovereign in his astonished palm, and in gratitude suggested that he should
LOTH AIR.
113
a nsd wait Tor tlu gentJeman, bat the restlesa LoUiiur ilined ihe proposal.
r,' s&id the tuan, leaning down liis liead as low as ni>1e from hia elevated seat, and speakin^r in a linBbed 'yon are a real gcntlomfLii. Do yon know nliat all iaP*
I^Tes, yes; some meeting about a Boman CntholioBchool.* I Bhook htB bead. * Yon are a real gentleman, 1 1 will tt-ll yon UiB truth. Tliey meet about the schoola F'tho order of St. Joseph, over the lefl. It ia a I'enian iteeting.' ' A Fenian meeting ! '
' Ay, ftv, and yon cannot enter that place without a
ticket. Juflt you try ! However, if a geatloman like you
wntita to go, yon aball have my ticket,' said the cabdrivcF ;
' and here it is. And may 1 drive to-morrow oa true n
Btleman as I have driven to-day.'
D saying be took a packet from hi« breast pocket, and Bxing it offered to Loth:ur a green slip of paper which ■ willingly accopted. ' I Bhoold like above all things to fc* he Baid, and be blended with the rear of those who s entering the building. The collector of the tirket« I at Lotbair and scmtinised his pass, but all wii» in r, and Lotbair was ajlmittcd. He passed throngh a liouso and a yard, at the bottom of ■ich was a rather spacious building. Wben be entcruil \ bo BAw in an instant it was not a chapel. It was what ■l^llod a temperance hull, a room to be hired for pnblio with a raised platform at the end, on whicli itn half a dozen men. The ball was tolerably full, and Lotliair came in among the laaC. There were some children Kitting on a form placed against the wall of the room, cocfa witb a bun which kept them quiet; the banner belonged Id this suhiiol, aiid was the banner of St. Joseph.
A mou dresiied like a, priest, and kuon'n as Father
114 LOTH AIR,
O'Molloj, came forward. He was received with signs of niach 8 jm path J, succeeded by complete silence. He ad- di*ossed them in a popular and animated style on the ad- vantages of education. They knew what that was, and then they cheered. Education taught them to know their rights But what was the use of knowing their rights unless they enforced them ? That was not to be done by prayer books but by something else, and something else wanted a subscription.
This was the object of the meeting and the burthen of all the speeches which followed, and which were progres- sively more outspoken than the adroit introductory dis- course. The Saxon was denounced, sometimes with coarseness, but sometimes in terms of picturesque passion ; the vast and extending organisation of tlie brotherhood was enlarged on, the great results at hand intimated ; the necessity of immediate exertion on the part of every in- dividual pressed with emphasis. All these views and re- marks received from the audience an encouraging response ; aud when Lothair observed men going round with boxes, and heard the clink of coin, he felt very embarrassed as to what he should do when asked to contribute to a fund raised to stimulate and support rebellion against his Sove- reign. He regretted the rash restlessness which had in- volved him in such a position.
The collectors approached Lothair, who was standing at the end of the room opposite to the platform, where the space was not crowded.
* I should like to speak to Father O'Molloy,* siiid Lothaii* ; * ho is a priest and will understand my views.*
' He is a priest here,* said one of the collectors with a Kardonic laugh, * but I am glad to say you will not find his name in the directory. Father O'Molloy is on the platform and engaged.*
* If you want to speak to the Father, speak fixjm wbnrc
1! ptlicr collector. 'Hoi's, ailecce! 'a gratleman mints to address tbe meeting.'
And there was silence, and Lothair felt estremely om- b&rrassed, but ho was not wanting, though it was tho first time in his life that he IimI addressed a public meeting.
' Geotlenien,' snid lAitliair, ' I really bad no wish to intrude npon yoa ; all I desired waa to epi.'ak to Father O'MoDoy. 1 wished to toll him that it weald have given me pleofiare to subscribe to thege aoliools. I nni not a Roman Cutholio, but I reapoct the Roman Catholic reli- Dat I can do nothing that will implj the slightest an of the opinions I have heard expressed this
ig. For yiinr own sakea ' but here a yell arose
pich for erer dvowned hia voice.
*• A spy, a spy ! " wns tbe gencrnl exclamation. ' Wo are nyetl i Seize him ! Knock him over ! ' and the whole Beting seemed to have turned their backs on tbe platform d to be advancing on the nnfortnnate Lothair, Two of B leaders on the platform at the same time leapt down a it, to dircol as it were thii enraged populace. ^Bat at tills moment a man who had been in tho lower t of the hall, in the vicinity of Lothair and standing me, pushed forward, and by bis gestares and general D arrested somewliat tlie crowd, so that tbe two leaders I lenpt fi-om the platform and bustled throagh the D contact with him. B BtniDger was evidently not of the class or country If tho rest oasembled. He had a military appearance, ami nke with a foreign accent when be said, ' Tliia is no spy. wp your people off.'
' And who arc you ? ' enquired the leader lliua addressed. " One accustomed to be obeyed,' said the stranger. ' Yon may be a spy yourself,' said the leader. •I wDlnotnndertftketoaay that there are no spies in this tooKD,' said tho stronger, 'but this person is not one, and
Ii6
LOTH AIR.
aoybodj who toncheB tLis persou trill touch this person nt hia pern. Stand off, men I ' And they stood off. The ware retreated baokvard, leaving the two leaders in (rout. A couple of hundred men, a moment hefore appareotlj full of fiirioos passion and ivadj to take refuge in the violence of fear, were cowed by a aingle human being.
' Why, you are not afraid of one man F ' eaid the leaders, ashamed of their following. ' Whatever betidee, no one noknown simll leave this room, or it will be Bow Street tomorrow morning,'
'Nevertheless,' said the stranger, 'two unknown men will loave this room, and with general assent. If anyone tonchcB this person or myself I will shoot him dead,' and he drew out his revolver ; * and as for the rest, look at that,' he added, giving a paper to the leEtdor of the Fenian Ix>dge, 'and then give it me hack again.'
The leader of the Feotan Lodge glanced at the paper ) be grow pale, then scarlet, folded the paper with great care and returned it reverentially to the stranger, then looking round to the asfleinbly and waving his hand he said, ' All right, the gentlemen are to go.'
■ V\'cll, yoQ have got out of a scrape, young sir,' said the stranger to Lothair when they had escaped from the ball.
' And how can I eipress my gratitude to yon F ' Lothair replied.
'Foh!' said the stranger, 'n mere alTair of cornmon do^. But what surprises me is how you got your paas
Xiothair told him all.
' They manage their affairs in general wonderfully close,' said the stranger, ' bat I have no opinion of tliem. I have jnat returned &om Ireland, where I thongbt I woold go and see what they really are ufl«r. No real business them. Their tre&son is a fairy tale, and their sedition n d talking in its sk-op.'
I
3
' miked together dbont half » mile, and then the ■rsBid, 'At the end of this we bIifiI] get into the Citj 1, and the land again of omnibns nnd public convey- ind I shall wish yon good night.' ' But it 13 dbtresaing to me U> part thna,' said Lotbair. rPrny let me call and pay my rcupects to my benefactor,'
"3 claim to any anch title,' said the stranger; 'I am
Mways glad to be of use. I will not trouble yoa to call on
I, for, frankly, I have no wish to increase the ciroie of
J acqn&inUDce. So, good eight; and as yon seem to be
|nd of a little life, lake my advice and never go about
CHAPTER xxAair.
I woi ftnd
B Fenian ndrcntnre Rimished the distraction which ur required. It broke that absorbing epell of senti- which is the delicious but enervating jirivilege of the iful beart ; yet when Lothnir woke in the morning his well-earned slnnibpr^, the charm returned, and bo fell at once into a reverie of Belmont, and a speculation wboa be might really pay his first visit there. Not te-day, that was clearly out of the question. They had separated only yesterday, and yet it seemed an age, and the adven- tnre of another world. There are moods of feeUng which defy alike time and space.
But on the morrow, Friday, ho might ventnre to go.
I then would to-morrow ever come? It seemed impos-
How were the intervening hours to pass P The
world, however, was not bo void of resoarces aa himself,
ftnd had already appropriated his wliolo day. And, firet,
Uonsignore Catesby came to breakfast with him, talking of
irything that was agreeable or interesting, but in reality
semiring hia presence at the impending ccclesiasticAl
ii8 LOTH AIR.
ceremony of high import, where his goiirdian was to officiate, and where the foundation was to be laid of the reconciliation of all Churches in the bosom of the true one. Then in the aflemoon Lothair had been long engaged to a match of pigeon-shooting, in which pastime Bertram ex- celled. It seemed there was to be a most exciting sweep- stakes to-day, in which the flower of England were to compete ; Lothair among them, and for the first time.
This great exploit of arms was to be accomplished at the Castle in the Air, a fantastic villa near the banks of the Thames, belonging to the Duke of Brecon. His Grace had been offended by the conduct or the comments of the outer world, which in his pastime had thwarted or displeased him in the free life of Battcrsea. The Duke of Brecon was a gentleman easily offended, but not one of those who ever confined their sense of injury to mere words. He prided himself on * putting down * any individual or body of men who chose to come into collision with him. And so in the present instance he formed a club of pigeon-shooters, and lent them his villa for their rendezvous and enjoyment The society was exquisite, exclusive, and greatly sought after. And the fine ladies, tempted of course by the beauty of the scene, honoured and inspired the competing con- federates by their presence.
The Castle in the Air was a colossal thatched cottage, built by a favourite of King George the Fourth. It was full of mandarins and pagodas and green dragons, and papered with birds of many colours and with vast tails. The gardens were pretty, and the grounds park-like, with some noble cedars and some huge walnut trees.
The Duke of Brecon was rather below the middle size, but he had a singularly athletic frame not devoid of sym- metry. His head was well placed on his broad shoulders, and his mien, was commanding. He was narrow-minded and prejodiced, but acute, and endowed with an unbending
I
LOTHAIR. 119
wiU, Be was an eminent BportHHiBii, and brave even to bmbilitj. Uia boaat was that be bad succeeded in Bverj. tiling he had attempfed, and be would not admit tbo poaaibilitj- of future failure. Though still a very yonng man he hnd won the Derby, training Lis own horse; and lie saccessfully managed a tine Bind in defiance of the ring, whom it was one of the secret objects of his life to extirpate. Though his manner to men wna peremptory, cold, aiiJ hard, he might be descrilied aa popular, for there existed a superstitious belief in his judgment, and it was known that rhen he had been cooBultcd he hsd ice. It could not be said that he wb» bolOTeil, but he waa feared and highly considered. Para- ■itea were necessary to him, though he despised them.
The Duke of Brecon was an avowed admirer of Lady Corisande, and was intimate with her family. The Duchess S:m1 him much, and waa often seen at ball or assembly on
jbia arm. He hati such exceHcnt principles, she eaid ; wai Btmigh I forward, so tree and firm. It waa whispersd Lt oven Lady Corisande had remarked that the Doke ol
'Brecon was the only young man of the time who had 'character.' The truth is the Duke, though al>dolute and hard to meu, conld be son> and deferential to women, and Eucb an exception to a general dispunition has a charm. It waa said also tlisl be had, when requisite, a bewitching
If there were any thing or any pereon in the world that LSl Aldeponde bat«d more than another it was the Duke o( Why St. Aldegonde hated him waa not very [eloar, for they had never crossed each other, nor were the ma for his detostation, which be occasiontdly gave, mtirely SBtisfactory : Bomolimos it was because the DuJie rove piebalds ; sonietimcs ht-cause ho had a largo sura in Bie Funds, which St. Aldegonde thought disgraceful for a hike ; eomotimcs because he wore a particular hat, though.
I20 LOTH AIR.
wiih reapeot to this last allegation, it does not follow ibat 8t. Aldegonde was justitied in his criticism, for in soch matters St. Aldegonde was himself very deficient, and had once strolled up St. Jameses Street with his dishevelled locks crowned with a wide-awake. Whatever might be the cause, St. Aldegonde generally wound up, ' I tell you what, Bertha, if Corisande marries that fellow I have made up my mind to go to the Indian Ocean. It is a country I never have seen, and Pinto tells me you cannot do it well under five years.'
' I hope you will take me, Granville, with you,' said Lady St. Aldegonde, 'because it is highly probable Corisande will marry the Duke ; mamma^ you know, likes him so much.'
*Why cannot Corisande marry Carisbrooke,* said St. Aldegonde, pouting; ' he is a really good fellow, much I l>etter looking, and so far as land is concerned, which afler
I all is the only thing, has as large an estate as the Duke.'
j * Well, these things depend a little upon taste,' said Lady
I St. Aldegonde.
* No, no,* said St. Aldegonde ; * Corisande must marry Carisbi-ooke. Your father would not like my going to the Indian Archipelago and not returning for five years, per- haps never returning. Why should Corisande break up ' our society ? Why are people so selfish ? I never could
' go to Brentham again if the Duke of Brecon is always to
be there, giving his opinion, and being what your mother i cjills " straightforward." I hate a straightforward fellow.
I As Pinto says, if every man were straightforward in his
I opinions, there would be no conversation. The fun of talk
' is to find out what a man really thinks, and then contrast
' it with the enormous lies he has been telling all dinner,
and, perhaps, all his life.'
It was a favourable day for the Castle in the Air ; enough but not too much sun, and a ^nfJe breeze. Some
LOTHAIR. lai
prtMj feet, not nloae, 'were saunterbg in tlio gardens,
aomo pretty lips lingered in the rcoma sipping tea; bnt
the mass of the fair visitors, marvellously attired, wore
tissemblud at the scene of aetion, seated on chairs and in
f^roapa, nhitili assumed soracthiiig of the form of an aoi-
Lphithititre. There were majiy goatleraen in attendance on
litliem, or independent apoctatora of the sport. The field
Kwas large, not less than forty competitors, and comprising
iny of the best shots in England, The siriiggle, there-
l,CDro, was long and ably maintained; but, as the end
pSpproachi'tl, it was evident that the contest would be
^between Bortrum, Lothiiir, and the Duke of Breuon.
Irfuiy St. AJdegondo and Lady Hoiitairy were there and PiUiciir nawarried siiiter. The man-ied sisters were highly n favour of their brother, but Lady Corlaande said iiotliing. At last Bertram mifiaed a bird, or rather his bird, which he had hit, escaped, and fell beyoiid the en- cloeore. Lothair waa more saccessfu), and it seemed thai it might be a tie between him and the Duke. His Or&ce, when called, advanced with confident composure, and apparently killed both bis birds, when, at this moment, a (dug mshed forward and chased one of tlie mortally struck ■ pigeons. The blue-rock, whicli was content to die by the tad of a Duke, would not dci^ to be worried by a dog, . it fruiitically moved its espiriug wings, scaled the K paling, and died. So Lothiiir won the pri^e.
' Well,' said Lady Montairy to LotLair, ' as Bertram waa not to vrin I am gind it was you.'
'And you will not coogratnlale me p ' said Lothair tc I^dy Corisaudc.
She ratliur shook her head. 'A tournament of doves," she said. ' I would rstbor see you all in the lists of Ashby.'
Lfithair hnd to dine this day with one of the vanquished, tliia was Mr. Branceiicth, cdfihratj-d for his dinners, still
122 LOTH AIR.
I
I
nioro for his guests. Mr. Brancepetb was a graye yoam; man. It was supposed that he was always meditating over the arrangement of his menus, or the skilful means hj which he could assemble together the right persons to partake of them. Mr. Brancepeth had attained the highest celebrity in his peculiar career. To dine with Mr. Brance- peth was a social incident that was mentioned. Royalty had consecrated his banquets, and a youth of note was scarcely a graduate of society who had not been his goest. There was one person however who, in this respect, had not taken his degree, and, as always happens under riuch circumstances, he was the individual on whom Mr. Brancepeth was most desirous to confer it; and this was St. Aldegonde. In vain Mr. Brancepeth had approached him with vast cards of invitation to hecatombs, and with insinuating little notes to dinners sans fa^on ; proposals which the presence of princes might almost construe into a command, or the presence of some one even more attrac- tive than princes must invest with irresistible charm. It was all in vain. *Not that I dislike Brancepeth,* said St. Aldegonde ; * I rather like him : I like a man who can do only one thing, but does that well. But then I hate dinners.*
But the determined and the persevering need never despair of gaining their object in this world. And this very day, riding home from the Caatle in the Air, Mr. Brancepeth overtook St. Aldegonde, who was lounging about on a rough Scandinavian cob, as dishevelled as him- self, listless and groomless. After riding together for twenty minutes, St. Aldegonde informed Mr. Brancepeth, as was his general custom with his companions, that he was bored to very extinction, and that he did not know what ho should do with himself for the rest of the day. * If I could only get Pinto to go with me, I think I would run down to the Star and Grarter or perhaps to Hampton Court.*
I
LOTHAIR. izi
' Tot wiU rot bo able to get Pinto to-day,' snid Mr Bnwoepelh, ' for he dines with mo.'
■ Wliat an nnluct7 fellow I am I ' eiclaimcd St. Aldo- ■^nile, entirely to him^ilf, 'I had made up my mind ^a dine with Pinto to-day.'
'And why should you cot? Why not meet Pinto at
' Well, that is not in my way,' said St. AldegonJe, bnt Dot in a decided tone. ' Yon know 1 do not like Htrangtra, nnd crowds of wine-glaases, and wbat is called all the ilcJicaciee of the season.'
* YoD nil! meet no one tLat yon do not know and like. It i» a little dinner I made for ' and be mentioned Lotbair.
' I like liothair," eaid St. Aldegonde, dreamily. ' He is a nice boy.'
' Well, you will have him and Pinto to yourself.'
Th« large fish languidly rose and ewalloweJ the biiit, and the exulting Jlr. Bi-ano-'peth canlei'cd off to Hill Street to give the necessarj- instruetiona.
Mr. Plato waa one of the marvels of English society ; llie most songht after of all it« member!*, though do one voold tell you exactly why. He was a little oily Portu- govae, middle- Aged, corpulent, and somewhat bald, with dnrk oyos of sympathy, not nnmiied with humour. No one knew who he was, and in a country the most scmti- tiisiog an to jierHonal details, no one en(|aired or cared to know, A quar'ter of a century ago an English noble had CHdght him in his travels, and brought him ynuiig to Bnglaud, where ho had always reninim'd. From the (brouriU; of an individual lie had become the onii'lo of a rirde, and titun t^e idol of society. All ibin time his nianoer remained unt^S^angud. Ho was never at U[iy time either humble or pretentious Instead of being a {laraeite, everybody flattered bitn ; and instead of being a lianger-on of Kciety, society hong on Pmto.
124 LOTH AIR.
It mast hare been the oombmation of manj pleaaiiig qualities, ratiier than the possession of anj oommandin^ one, that created his influence. He certainly was not a wit, yet he was always gay, and always said things dial made other people merry. His conversation was sparkling, interesting, and fluent, yet it was observed he never gave an opinion on any subject and never told an anecdote. Indeed, be would sometimes remark, when a man fell into his anecdotage it was a sign for him to retire firom the world. And yet Pinto rarely opened his mouth without everybody being stricken with mirth. He had the art of viewing common things in a fanciful light, and the rare gift of raillery which flattered the self-love of those whom it seemed sportively not to spare. Sometimes those who had passed a fascinating evening with Pinto would try to remember on the morrow what he had said, and could recall nothing. He was not an intellectual Croesus, but his pockets were full of sixpences.
One of the ingredients of his social spell was no doubt his manner, which was tranquil even when he was droll. He never laughed except with his eyes, and delivered himself of his most eccentric fancies in an unctuous style. He had a rare gift of mimicry, which he used with extreme reserve, and therefore was proportionately effective when displayed. Add to all this, a sweet voice, a soft hand, and a disposition both soft and sweet, like his own Azores. It was understood that Pinto was easy in his circumstances, though no one knew where these circumstances were. His equipage was worthy of his position, and in his little house in May Fair he sometimes gave a dinner to a flne lady, who was as proud of the event as the Queen of Sheba of her visit to Solomon the Gh^at.
When St. Aldegonde arrived in Hill Street, and slouched into the saloon with as uncouth and graceless a general mien as a handsome and naturally graoefiil man could
LOTHAIR.
I2S
I
i
contriTS to preseot, his keen tboagli listless glanoe at onco reveftled to him that lie was, as be descrilied it at dinner to Hngo Bohnn, in a social jangle, in wliich there wu a ^reat beni of auimuls tliat he particularly disliked, namel}-, what he eutitled ' swells.' The scowl on hia distressed coontenantv at first intimated a retreat ; but after a survey, coort^oos to hia host and epeaking kindly to Lothair as he pMsed OD, he made a mah lo Mf. Pinto, and, curdially cmbnudng him, said, ' illnil we sit together.'
Tbe diuDer was not a Failure, though an exccptiou to the polished ceremony of tbe nonnalBrancepeth banquet. Tlio hu§t headed his table, with the Duke of Brecon on hia right and Lothair on his left hand, and ' swells ' of calibre in their vicinity ; but St. Aldegonde sat far away, next to Mr. Pinto, and Hugo Boliun on the other side of that gentleman. Uugo BohuD loved swcUb, but be loved St. Aldegonde more. Tbe general conversation iu the neigh- bourhood of Jlr. Bi-ancepeth did not flag: they talked of the sport of the morning, and then, by association of ideas, of every other sport. And iJieu from tlic sports of England tbepy ranged to the sports of every other country. Thero were several there who had caught salmon in Norway and killed tigers in Bengal, and visited those countries only foi chat purpose. And then they talked of horses, and then they talked of women.
Lotbair was rather sileut ; for in this society of anciouts, the yoongest of whom was perhaps not loss than five-and- twenty, and some with nearly a lustre added to that mature period, he felt the awkward modesty of a freshman. The Duke of Brecon tjilked much, but never at length. He dtfcidod everything, at least to his own satiafaction ; and if his opinion were challenged, remained nnsbaken, and did not cuucoul it.
All this time a different scene was enacting at the other
d of the table. St. Aldegonde, with his b:ick tuiiied to
I
i
126 LOTH AIR.
bis other neighbour, hung upon the accents of Mr. Pinto, and Hugo Bohun imitated St. Aldegonde. What Mr. Pinto said or was saying was quite inaudible, for he always spoke low, and in the present case he was invisible, like an ortolan smothered in vineleaves ; but every now and then St. Aldegonde broke into a frightful shout, and Hago Bohun tittered immensely. Then St. Aldegonde, throwing himself back in his chair, and talking to himself or the ceiling, would exclaim, * Best thing I ever heard,' while Hugo nodded sympathy with a beaming smile.
The swells now and then paused in their conversation and glanced at the scene of disturbance.
* They seem highly amused there,' said Mr. Brancepeth. • I wish they would pass it on.'
* I think St. Aldegonde,' said the Duke of Brecon, * is the least conventional man of my acquaintance.'
Notwithstanding this stem sneer, a practised general Uke Mr. Brancepeth felt he had won the day. All his guests would disperse and tell the world that they had dined with him and met St. Aldegonde, and to-morrow there would be a blazoned paragraph in the journals com- memorating the event, and written as if by a herald. What did a little disturb his hospitable mind was that St. Aldegonde literally tasted nothing. He did not care so much for his occasionally leaning on the table with both his elbows, but that he should pass by every dish was distressing. So ^Ir. Brancepeth whispered to his own valet, a fine gentleman, who stood by his master's chair and attended on no one else except, when requisite, his master's immediate neighbour, and desired him to suggest to St. Aldegonde whether the side table might not provide, under the difficulties, some sustenance. St. Aldegonde seemed quite gratified by the attention, and said he should like to have some cold meat. Now that was the only thing the side table, bounteous as was its disposition.
I
euuld not provide. All tbe joints of thn season wort' runed in vain, and pies and preparations of many climea. llut nothing nmild satifily St. Aldegonde bnt coid meut.
' Well, now 1 shall begin my dinner,' he said to Pinto, ■rlien he was »t lengtii aervcd. ' What surprises me moat ill yoa is yonr English. Thera is not ft mtiD who speaks each good English as yoa do.'
'English is an expressive language,' said Mr. Pinto, 'hut not difficnlt to nia)it«r. Its range is limited. It con- sists, ae far as I can observe, of four words : " nice," "jolly," "charming," and "bore; " and some grammariaiia ■lid " fond." '
Wheu the guests rose and returned to the saloon, St. Aldegonde wna in high apirita, and talked to every one, evuu to the Dnke of Brecon, whom he considerately re- minded of his deiVut in the morning, adding that frOTo what he hud seen of hia Gr.iop's guns he had no opinion of thorn, and that he did not believe that breech-loaders snited pigeou-ehooting.
Finally, when ho h*le ftirewell to his host, St. Aldegondo kasured him that jje ' never in his life madi< eo good a dinner, and that Pinto had never been so rich,"
Wlien thp party broke np, the majority of the guests wont, sooner or later, to a ball that was given this evenitig by Lady St. Jerome, Others, who never went to balls, looked forward with refined satisfaction to a night of nuhrokon tobacco. St, AJdegonde went to play whist at the hoiuo of a lady who lived out of town. ' I like tho drive home,* he said; 'the mortiiog air is bo refreshing when one has lost one's money.'
A bull at St. Jurome House was a rare event, hot one highly appreciated. It was a grand mansion, with a rtuj Ktiite of slate apartments, including a genuine ball-room in the Venetian style, and lighted with chandeliers of rod: crystal Lady St. Jui-amo was a woman of tJiste and
128 LOTHAIR.
splendour and romance, who could do justice to the soene and occasion. Even Lord St. Jerome, quiet as he soemed, in these matters was popular with young men. It waB known that Lord St. Jerome gave at his hall suppers the same champagne that he gave at his dinners, and that was of the highest class : in short, a patriot. We talk with wondering execration cff the great poisoners of past ages, the Borgias, the inventor of aqua tofana, and the amiable Marchioness de Brinvilliers ; but Pinto was of opinion that there were more social poisoners about in the present daj than in the darkest and the most demoralised periods, and then none of them are punished ; which is so strange, he would add, as thej are all found out.
Ladj St. Jerome received Lothair, as Pinto said, with extreme unction. She looked in his eyes, she retained his hand, she said that what she had heard had made her so happy. And then, when he was retiring, she beckoned him back and said she must have some tea, and, taking his arm, they walked away together. * I have so much to tell you,' she said, * and everything is so interesting. I think we are on the eve of great events. The Monsignore told me your heart was with us. It must bo. They are your own thoughts, your own wishes. We are realising your Dwn ideal. I think next Sunday will bo remembered as a great day in English history ; the commencement of a movement that may save everything. The Monsignore, i know, has told you all.*
Not exactly ; the Oxford visit had deranged a little the plans of the Monsignore, but he had partially conmiunicated the vast scheme. It seems there was a new society to be instituted for the restoration of Christendom. The change of name from Christendom to Europe had proved a Bailure and a disastrous one. ' And what wonder ? ' said Lady St. Jerome. * Europe is not even a quarter of the globe, as the philosophers pretended it was. The**e is already a
LOTH AIR.
139
dfth dirifiion, nud probably there will be miLny moro as Ihe phiiosopbera anoonnce it impoasiblo,' The Cardinal wna to inangumte tbo institution on Sunday next ftt the Jesuits' Church by one of his celebrated eemions. It was to be a fnnctioa of the highest class. Ail the faithful o£ conaidcratioa were to attend, but the attendance was not to bo limited to the t'uitliful. Eveiy sincere adherent of Church priucijilea who was iti a state of prayer and prepa- rutiou was solicitdd to be present and join in the holy and cOBLiuon work of restoring to the Divine Master his king- dom a|)oii earth with ita rightful nanae.
It was a brilliant ball. All the ' nice * people in LondoD were there. All the yonng men who now will never go to halls were present. This was from respect tn the high rluuactcr of L«rd St. Jerome. Clare Arundel looked divine, dressed in a wondrons white robe garlandud with violets, just arrived troia Paris, a present fi-om her god- mother the Duchess of Lorrain-ScbnleDbonrg. On her lirnd a riolet wreath, deep and radiant as her eyes, and which admirably contrasted with her dark goldeu brown luiir.
Iioth^vir danced with her and never admired her more. Ilcr mntiner towards him was changed. It. was attractive, Dvcn olluritig. She smiled on him, she addressed him in tones of sympathy, even of tenderness. She seemed in- U-rostcd in all he was doing, she flattered him by a mode which i« said to be irresistible to a man, by talking of himself. When the dance had finished he oU'ered to attend her to the tea-room. She accepted the invitation even with cordiality.
* I think I must have some tea,' she said, ' and I like to (fii with my kinsman.'
Jnit before snppcr was annonneed, Lady St. Jerome mill Lotbair, to bis surprise, that he was to attend Misi Amndel to the |;re&t ceremony. ' It is Clare's ball,' G&iij
I30 LOTHAIR.
Lady St. Jerome, * given in her honour, and jon are to take care of her.*
*I am more than honoured,' said Lothair. *Bat does ]Mi8S Arundel wish it ? for, to tell yon the truth, I thought I had rather abused her indulgence this evening.'
* Of course she wishes it,' said Ladj St. Jerome. * Who should lead her out on such an occasion, her own ball, than the nearest and dearest relation she has in the world ex- cept ourselves ? '
Lothair made no reply to this unanswerable logic, but was as surprised as he was gratified. He recalled the hour when the kinship was at the best but coldly recog- liised, the inscrutable haughtiness, even distrust, with which Miss Arundel listened to the exposition of his views and feelings, and the contrast which her past mood pre- sented to her present brilliant sympathy and cordial greeting. But he yielded to the magic of the flowing hour. Miss Arundel Keemed indeed quite a changed being to-night, full of vivacity, fancy, feeling, almost fun. She was witty and humorous and joyous and fascinating. As he fed her with cates as delicate as her lips, and manu- factured for her dainty beverages which would not outrage their purity, Lothair at last could hot refrain from inti- mating his sense of her unusual but charming joyousness.
* No,* she said, turning round with animation, * my natural disposition, always repressed because I have felt overwhelmed by the desolation of the world. But now I have hope* I have more than hope, I have joy. I feel sure this idea of the restoration of Christendom comes &om Heaven. It has restored me to myself, and has given me a sense of happiness in this life which I never could contemplate. But what is the climax of my joy is, that you, after all my own blood, and one in whose career I have ever felt the deepest interest, should be ordained to lay, as it were, the first stone of this temple of divine love.'
It w»a break of day when Lotliair jumped into his ragh&in. ' Thank baaTens,' he eiolaimed, ' it ia at hat
CHAPTER XXIX.
[ERR i» BometUing very pleasant in a summer Bnbnrbaii
le valley of the Thames. Lomlon transforms
wlf into bustling Knightsbridge and airy Brorapton
rightly and granefiiUy, lingers cheerfuily in the long,
hiiscellaoeoQS, woll-wat«red Kind's Roarl, and only eajs
rnwell nhon yon come (o an aboanditig river and a pic
e bridge. The boats were bright upon the waiere
|rh(v Lothair crossed it, and bis dark cliesnut barb,
md of it« resplendent form, cnrvettcd wttli joy when
I reached a green common, studded occasionally vrith
a group of pines and well- bedecked with giirfo. After
ihia ho povsitcd the pnblic rnad for a coople of miles niitil
he observed on his left b;uid a gate on which was written
l" privmte road," anil here be ati>ppcci. The gate was locked,
when I.otb&ir asBnred the keeper that he was about to
■it BeI.most, he was pemiitted to enter.
I Bii euttred a green and winding taiie, fringed with tall
IBS and dim witb fi'agrant shade, and after proceeding
int hnlf a mite came lo a luitg low-built lodge with a
intched and shelving roof and surrounded by a mstio
olotinade covered witb boneysuckle. Passing through the
0 at hand, he found himself in a road winding throngb mlly nndnlating banks of exquisite turf studded witb
mre alirubs and occasionally rarer trees. Suddenly the oonGned scene ei|>auded : vide lawns spread out before bim, Bhadowed with the dark forma of many huge cedars
1 biasing with flower-beds of every hue. The boose M also apparent, a stately mansion of hewn atone, witb
132 LOTH AIR.
wings and a portico of Cormtbian columns, and backed by deep woods.
This was Belmont, built by a favourite Minister of State to whom a grateful and gracious sovereign had granted a slice of a royal park whereon to raise a palace and a garden and find occasionally Tusculan repose.
The lady of the mansion was at home, and though Lothair was quite prepared for this his heart beat. The inner hall was of noble proportion, and there were ranged in it many Boman busts and some ancient slabs and altars of marble. These had been collected some century ago by the ]Minister; but what immediately struck the eye of Lothair were two statues by an American artist, and both of fame, the Sibyl and the Cleopatra. He had heard of these, but had never seen them, and could not refrain from lingering a moment to gaze upon their mystical and fas- cinating beauty.
He proceeded through two spacious and lofty chambers, of which it was evident the furniture was new. It was luxurious and rich and full of taste, but there was no at- tempt to recall the past in the details: no cabinets and clocks of French kings or tables of French queens, no chairs of Venetian senators, no candelabra that had illu- mined Doges of Genoa, no ancient porcelain of rare schools and ivory carvings and choice enamels. The walls were hung with masterpieces of modem art, chiefly of the French school, Ingres and Delaroche and Schefier.
The last saloon led into a room of smaller dimensions opening on the garden, and which Lothair at first thouglit must be a fernery it seemed so full of choice and expand- ing specimens of that beautiful and multiform plant; but when his eye had become a little accustomed to the scene and to the order of the groups, he perceived they were only the refreshing and profuse ornaments of a regularly furnished and inhabited apartment. There was a table
LOTH AIR.
133
1 wili writing materials and books and somo mnaic r before the tnbla was so plitced fts if aome one bad ■ntly qniiied it, a bcjok beinR open but turned upon Aith an ivory catter iiy its side. It would seem At Uie dweller in liie chninbor migbt not ho fitr distani, e servant invited Lotbair to be seated, and sayiug that I. Cntnpian must bo in the garden, proceeded to iofumi t mistress of the ornvai of a guest.
9 room opened on a terrace adomod witb statnes and
ige tre«s, and descetidiiig gently into a garden in tbi>
style, in tbe centre of which was a marble fonntain '
|r lignrcs. The gronuda were not extensive, bnt they
B only separated from the royal park by a wire fence,
tcene seemed alike ri^b and ilUmitable. On
t boundary was a summcrbonso in tiie shape of a classic
of tliose pavilions uf pleasure which nobles
; in the last oeiitury.
As Lolliair beheld the scene with gratiiication, the spt-
rant reappeared on the steps of the terrace aud invited
liim to descend. Guiding him throagh the garden, tlie
Taot retired as Lothair recognised Mrs. Campian ajt-
; them.
She gave her hand to Lothair and welcomed him dInJIy but with serenity. They mutually excbanged ) that their retam to town had been agreeable. Lothair lid not refrain lk)m expresiiing how pleased he was with ktmont.
[*I am glad yon approve of our hired homo,' said Theo-
'I think we were fuHnnate in finding one that suits
r t«at«e and habits. We luve pictures und statues and
I and flowers, and yet we love our friends, and our
S pooplo who live in cities-'
* 1 think I saw two statues to-day of which I have otteu
,' said Lotlintr. 'The Sibyl and Cleopnim? Ves. Colonel Campian ia
"34
LOT HAIR.
rather prond of poBacsRitig them. He colleots only modeni art, for wLii-h I believe there is & great furore, though some of OUT fricnda think it is yet in its cradle.'
' 1 am vei-y sorry to say,' said Lotbair, ' thiil I know veiy Uttle about art, or iiidecd anything else, but I admire wimt i k beautiful. I know eometliiug about architecture, at least church architecture.'
* Well, rehgioD haji produced aooe of oar finest builil- ingB,' said Theodora ; * there is no question of that ; and as loug as they are adapted to what takes place in them they are admirabb. The fault I tiud in modem churches in this country is, that tlier" is little relation between the cere- moniea and the structure. Nobody seems now cousciuua that every true architectural form baa a purpose. But I thick the climax of confused ideas b capped when dissent- ing chupele are built like cathedrals.'
'Ah! to build a cathedral,' exclaimed Lothair, 'that is n great enterprise. 1 wish I might show yon some day some drawings I have of a projected cathodml.*
' A projected cathedral ! ' said Theodora. ' Well, I most nonfoBs to you I never could comprehend the idea of a Protestajit cathedral.'
' Bnt I arn nut tjuit« sure,' said Lothnir blnahing and agitated, ' that it will be a Protestajit cathedral. 1 have not made up my mind about that.'
Theodora glanced at him, nnohserved, with her won. derfiil grey eyes ; a sort of supeniatnra! light seemed to shoot from beneath their long dark losbea and read his inmost nature. Tliey were all this time returning, as she had BDggCHied, to the houiie. liather suddenly she said, ' By the bye, as yon are so fond of art, 1 onght to have asked you whether you would like to see a work by the sculptor of Cleopatra which arrived when we nere at Oxford. We have placed it on a pedestal in the temple. lb b the Uenius of Freedom. I may say I wa» assist-
mg a.1 lU iimngiir&tiou wliou j'our name v/ae fumouuood
iLutli&ir caaglit at tlii§ proposal, and tbe; tnraed and icliod the U'aiple. Some workmen were leaving the
wdiiig tL9 tiiej entered, and one or two lingered.
Upon a pedeatnl of porphyry rose the statue of a female in marble. Though veiled with drapery which might hava Iwiiome the Goddess of Modoi^Iy, admirable ui-t juTmittcd liio contour of the perfect form to be ti'acod. The feet wore without, eaudola, and the uudulating breadth of one shoulder, where the drnjiery was festooned, remained nii- coverud. Otie expected with such a shape Bome divine visf^re. That was not wanting ; bnt hamanity was asHerted in the transcendent brow, wliieh beamed with sablinie thought aud profound enthusiasm.
Some would have sighed that su{;h beings could only be pictured in a poet's nr an artist's dream, but Lotliair felt that what he beheld with rapture was no idtal crea- , and that he was in the presence of the inspiring
* It is too like !' he murnmrcd.
'It is the most Huooeaaful recnrrenceto the true principlne of art in modem sualptnre,' Boid a gentleman on his right
This person was a yooti^ niau, though more than tea yeura older than Lothair. Hia appearance was Btriking, Above the middle bcighti, his furni, athletic though lithe d BynunotHual, naa crowned by a countciiance aquilinu t deticnie, and from many clrcamstancen of a remarkabla The lustre of his complexion, the tire of his eye, 1 his cbeanut Imir in profose curU, contrihnted mui'h a daezling eD'ecl, A thick but smiill mouatache did ( conceal his carved lip or the acoi-nful pride of bis dis- ■ded noHtril, and bis beard, clase but tint Ion;;, did not tl tho siugnliir buauty of Ids month. It was an arrogant
136 LOTHAIR.
Ekce, dttring aud Tivacious, jot weighted with an expres- sion of deep and haaglitj thought.
The costume of this gentleman was rich and picturesque Such extravagance of form and colour is sometimes en- countered in the adventurous toilette of a country house, but rarely experienced in what might still be looked upon as a morning visit in the metropolis.
' You know Mr. Phoabus ? ' asked a low clear voioe, and turning round Lothair was presented to a person so fiunous that even Lothair had heard of him.
Mr. Phoebus was the most successful, not to say the most eminent, painter of the age. He was the descendant of a noble family of Gasoony that had emigrated to England from France in the reign of Louis XIV. Unquestionably they had mixed their blood frequently during the interval and the vicissitudes of their various life; but in Graston PhoBbus nature, as is sometimes her wont, had chosen to reproduce exactly the original type. He was the (Gascon noble of the sixteenth century, with all his brilliancy, bravery, and boastfulness, equally vain, arrogant, and eccentric, accomplished in all the daring or the graceful pursuits of man, yet nursed in the philosophy of our times.
* It is presumption in my talking about such things, said Lothair ; * but might I venture to ask what you maj consider the true principles of art ? '
' Abtan principles,' said Mr. Phoabus ; ' not merely the study of nature, but of beautiful nature ; the art of design in a country inhabited by a firstrate race, and where the laws, the manners, the customs, are calculated to maintain the health and beauty of a firstrate race. In a greater or less degree, these conditions obtained from the age of Pericles to the age of Hadrian in pure Aryan commu- nities, but Semitism beg^ then to prevail, and ultimately triumphed. Semitism has destroyed art; it taught mnc^
to despise his own body imd tlia etwence of art U to banonr the bamao frame.'
' I am a&aitl I ongbt not to talk about sncli tilings,' saiit Lothair ; ' but il' by Semitism jou mean religion, sni-ely the :i painters inspired hy Semitism did something.' * Great tfainga,' said Mr. Pho^baa ; ' some of tbe greateat. nitism gave them subjects, but tlie Renaissance gave a Aryan art, iind it gnve thnt art to a purely Aryan tiice. jut Sumitism rallied in the shape of the Reformation, and L all away. When Leo the Tenth was Pope, popery ■ pagan ; popory ia now CJiristian and art in extinct.' 1*1 Cfumot enter into sueli controversies,' said Lothair. rrery day I feel, more and more, I am extremely igno- Bt.'
' Do not regret it," said llr, Phttbus. ' What yon call ignorance is your eti-ength. By ignorance you mean a uit of knowledge of books. Booka are lata! ; they are I onrae of the faninan race. Kine-tentha of existing a are nonsenae, and the clever books arc tbe refutation R that nonsense. The gn>atest misfortune that ever befi'U the iDTention of printing. Printing baa de- nyed edacation. Art is a great tlmig, and Science if; •at thing -y but all that art and science can reveal can t tanght by man and by his attributes : his voice, his Bid, his eye. The essence of education is the education ! the body. Beauty and health are the chief sonrcea E happiness. Men should live in the air ; their exer- 1 ahould be regnlar, varied, scientifin. To render bis fdy strong and supple is the first duty of man. He kOoli] devclopc and cumpletuly master the whole muscular a. What I admire in the order to which you belong t thi-y do live in tbe air, that they excel in athletic ; that they can only apeak one language ; and that ^jr never read. Thi.i is not a complete education, but it ttbe biifhest education since the Greek.'
138
LOTH AIR.
* What jon say 1 feel encouraging,* said Loihair, reprea- Bing a smile, * for I myself live very much in the air, and am fond of all sports ; but I confess I am oflen ashamed of being so poor a linguist, and was seriously thinking that I ought to read.'
*No doubt every man should combine an intellectual with a physical training,' replied Mr. Phoebus ; * but the popular conception of the means is radically wrong. Youth should attend lectures on art and science by the most illustrious professors, and should converse together after- wards on what they have heard. They should learn to talk ; it is a rare accomplishment, and extremely healthy. They should have music always at their meals. The theatre, entirely remodelled and reformed, and under a minister of state, should be an important element of educa- tion. I should not object to the recitation of lyric poetry. That is enough. I would not have a book in the house, or even see a newspaper.*
* These are Aryan principles ? ' said Lothair.
* They are,* said Mr. Phoobus ; * and of such principles, 1 believe, a great revival is at hand. We shall both live to see another Renaissance *
' And our artist here,' said Lothair, pointing to the statue, * you are of opinion that he is assertmg these principles ? *
* Yes ; because he has produced the Aryan form by studying the Aryan form. Phidias never had a finer model, and he has not been unequal to it
* I fancied,* said Lothair in a lower and enquiring tone, though Mrs. Campian had some time before glided out of the pavilion and was giving directions to the workmen, ' I fancied I had heard that Mrs. Campian was a Roman. *
* The Romans were Greeks,* said Mr. Phoebus, * and in this instance the Phidian type came out It has not been thrown away. I believe Theodom has inspired as many
LOTH AIR.
"39
painters and BCnlptoi^ as an; Aryan goddess. I look ujjon her as sacb, for 1 know notliing more divine.'
' I four tile Phidian type ifl very rare,' eaJd Lothair.
* In nature and in art there muttt always be surpassing inetancea,' said Mr. I'hcohns. ' It is a law, and a wise one ; but, depend upon ii, bo strong and perfect a type aa tUo origmaJ Arywi must be yet abundant among tlie miliioii§, and way be developed. But lor tliis juu want gi-oit ohangos in yonr laws. It is the first duty of a state to »tU)nd to tbe frame and health of tbe subject. The Spar- tans understood this. They permitted no marriage the probable consequences of which might be a feeble progeny; they even took measures to secure a vigorona one. The ttoinanB doomed tbe deformed to immediate destrnctiou. The union of the races concerns llie welfare of the com- monwealth much too nearly to bo eutmsted to individuiil nrrftngoment. Tlie fate of a nation will ultimatoly depend t'poo the strength and health of the pogitilaiiou. Both France and England should look to this ; tliey Uave cause. Ad for our mighty engines of war in the hands of a puny moe, it will be the old story of tlie lower empire and the Greek tire. Laws should bo passed to eecore all this, and «ome diiy tbey will be. But nothing can be done until tho
Aryftu nuws i
'e exirieatod fro:
CHAPTER XSX.
) Aryftu mc
^HPiDTHAIR returned to town in a not ajtogethor Ratistnctory
^"Irtate of mind. He was nut serene or content. On the
<xintrary, be was rather agitated and perplexed. He could
not say he regretted bis visit. He had seen bcr, and be
_ had seenber lo great advantaffe. He Imd aeon mtich too
a pIcAi^hig, aud had beard ulso many things that, if
^^ had seen ^Ubat waa
HO LOTHATR.
not pleejEong, were certainly full of interest. And yeti when he cantered back over the common, the world some- how did not seem to him so bright and exhilarating as in the ambling mom. Was it because she was not alone? And jet why should he expect she should be alone P She had many friends, and she was as accessible to them as to himself. And yet a conversation with her, as in the gardens of Blenheim, would have been delightful, and he had rather counted on it. Nevertheless, it was a great thing to know men like Mr. Phoebus, and hear their views on the nature of things. Lothair was very young, and was more thought- ful than studious. His education hitherto had been, ac- cording to Mr. Phoebus, on the right principle, and chiefly in the open air; but he was intelligent and susceptible, and in the atmosphere of Oxford, now stirred with many thoughts, he had imbibed some particles of knowledges respecting the primaeval races which had permitted him to follow the conversation of Mr. Phoebus not absolutely in a state of hopeless perplexity. He determined to confer with Father Coleman on the Aryan race and the genius of Semitism. As he returned through the park, he observed the Duchess and Lady Corisande in their barouche, resting for a moment in the shade, with Lord Carisbrooke on one side aud the Duke of Brecon on the other.
As he was dressing for dinner, constantly brooding on one thought, the cause of his feeling of disappointment occurred to him. He had hoped in this visit to have established some basis of intimacy, and to have ascertained his prospect and his means of occasionally seeing her. But he had done nothing of the kind. He could not well call again at Belmont under a week, but even then Mr. Phoebus or some one else might be there. The world seemed dark. He wished he had never gone to Oxford. However a man may plan his life he is the creature of circumstances. The unforeseen happens and apsets everything. We are mere puppets.
LOTHAIR.
Qe ant next tii aii agreeable TComoo at diimer, wlio gave him an interesting account of a new ainger sho had heard the uiglit before at the Opera; a fair Scandinavian, fresh BS a lily and sweet aa a nightingale.
' I was resolved tn po and hear her,' fiaid the lady ; ' my BTster Feodore, at Piiria, Lad written to me bo much about bur. Do you know, I have never been to the Opera for an ago ! That alone waa quite a treat to me. I never go to ihc Opera, nor to the pby, nor to anytliin<^ else. Society hna become so large and so exacting, that I have fonnd out one never geta any amuBement.'
' Do yon know, 1 never waa at the Opera," said Lothair.
• 1 am not at all surjiriscd ; and when yon go (which I suppose yon will some duy), what will most strike yon is, that you will nut see a. single person yon ever saw in your life."
■ Strange ! '
'TeSi it aliowa what a niafls of wealth and taste and refinement there is in this wonderfnl mcti'OpoUa of ours, HaiUs irrespective of tlie circles in which we move, and •uhioh we once thought entirely engrossed them.'
Ailer the ladies had retired, Bertram, who dined at the same house, moved np to him ; ami Hugo Bohun came over and took the vacant seat on his other side.
■ What have yon been doing with yourself P ' said Hago. ' We have not seen you for a week."
'I went down la Oxford almut some horses,' said Lot.hnir.
' Fancy going down fo Oxford about some hor.ses in the
^_ uid Mre
heart of the seasim,' aaid Hugo, Its, and tiiat, as the " Scorpion" tti bo maiTied.'
' To whom ? ■ said Lothair.
the point. It i BJid tre want j'on to toll us.'
'lb
e yon e
e Belling
you are going
a dark horse at prf«eiit,
142 LOTH AIR
* VVby do not you marry, Hngo ? ' said Bertram.
'I respect the institatioii,' said Hugo, 'which iB ad- mitting something in these days; and I have always f.honght that every woman should marry, and no man.'
' It makes a woman and it mars a man, you think P ' said Lothair.
* But I do not exactly see how your view would work practically,* said Bertram.
'Well, my view is a social problem,' said Hugo, 'and social problems are the fashion at present. It would be solved through the exceptions, which prove the principle. In the first place, there are your swells who cannot avoid the halter : you are booked when you are bom ; and then there are moderate men like myself^ who have their weak moments. I would not answer for myself if I could find an afiectioiiate family with good shooting and firstrate claret.'
'There must be many families with such conditions,' said Lothair.
Hugo shook his head. ' You try. Sometimes the wine is good and the shooting bad; sometimes the reverse; sometimes both are excellent, but then the tempers and the manners are equally detestable.'
' I vote we three do something fo-niorrow,' said Bertram.
' What shall it be ? ' said Hugo.
' I vote we row down to Richmond at sunset and dine, and then drive our teams up by moonlight. What say you, Lothair ? '
' I cannot, I am engaged. I am engaged to go to the Opera.'
' Fancy going to the Opera in this sweltering weather ' exclaimed Bertram.
' He must be going to be married,' said Hngo.
And yet on the following evening, though the weather was quite as sultry and he was not going to be married, to
N
LOTHArR.
die Opera Lotliair went. While the agreeable lady the daj before was dilating at dinner on this once lamona entertainment, LotWir remembered that a certain persoii wi-nt there every Siiturday evening, and he resolved that lie shotild at least huve the satiBfaction of seeing her.
It was altogether a new ecene for Lothair, and being mnch affected by niusic he fonod the general inflaencB bo fascinating that some little time elnpsed before be waa snffioiently muster of himself to recur to the principal pnqiose of his presence. His box was on the first tier, where he could observe very generally and yet himself be snflicieDlly screened. Aa an astronomer surveys the Btarry lieavens nntQ his searching sight reaches the de.sired planet, EO Lotltair's scmtinisiug vision wandered till his eye at length lighted on the wiahed-for orb, In the circle above his own, oppngito to him but neaix'r the stage, be recog- nised the Campians. She had a star upon her forehead, as when he firat met her some sii mouths ago; it seemed an age.
Kow what should be do? Ho was quite nnleamed in the social habits of an opera-house. He was not awaro that he had the privilege of paying the lady a visit in her bo«, and had he been so, he was really so shy in little things that he never could have Eummoned resolution to open the door of his own box and request an attcndaitt to show him that of itrs. Campian. He had contrived to get to the Opera for the first time in bia life, and the effort seemed to have exhausted his social enterprise. So he re- niainod still, with his glass Gxed very constantly on Ura. Campiau, and occasionally giving himself np to the scene. The performance did not sustain the first impression. There were rival prima-doncaa, and they indulged in com- petitive BcrcnmB : the chorasea were coarBo. and th» oreheHtra mnch too noisy. But the audience were ab- sorbed or eiiihusiastic. We ma; bo a masiciil nation, but uor timte would seem to require somo refinement.
144 LOTH AIR.
There ^as a stir in Mrs. Gampian's box; a gentleman entered and seated himself. Lothair concluded he was an invited guest, and envied him. In about a quarter of an hour the gentleman bowed and retired, and another person came in, and one whom Lothair recognised as a young man who had been sitting during the first act in a stall beneath him. The system of paying visits at the Opera then flashed upon his intelligence, as some discovery in science upon a painful observer. Why should he not pay a visit too ? But how to do it ? At last he was bold enough to open the door of his own box and go forth, but he could And no attendant, and some persons passing his open door, and nearly appropriating his lodge, in a fit of that nervouH embarrassment which attends inexperience in little things, he secured his rights by returning baffled to his post.
There had been a change in Mrs. Campian*s box in the interval. Colonel Campian had quitted it, and Mr. Phoebus occupied his place. Whether it were disappointment at his own failure or some other cause, Lothair felt annoyed. He was hot and cold by turns ; felt awkward and blun- dering ; fancied people were looking at him ; that in some inexplicable sense he was ridiculous ; wished he had never gone to the OpewL
As time, and considerable time, elapsed, ho became even miserable. Mr. Phoebus never moved, and Mrs. Campian frequently conversed with him. More than one visitor had in the interval paid their respects to the lady, but Mr. Phoebus never moved. They did not stay, perhaps because Mr. Phoebus never moved.
Lothair never liked that fellow from the first. Sympathy and antipathy share our being as day and darkness share our lives. Lothair had felt an antipathy for Mr. Phoebus the moment he saw him. He had arrived at Belmont yesterday before Lothair, and he had outstayed him. These might be Aryan principles, but they were not the principles of good breeding.
LOTH AIR.
u;
r detemuned to go home and norcr to come to thc- ;iLm. He opened the door of bis bos with firmness, & slamoied it with conrogo ; he had quite lost his shyness, • indeed read/ to ran a mnck with anyone who crossed The Elammiug of the door summoned a simdding idaut from a distant post, who with breathless demotion [uired whether Ixithair wanted anything. '•Yea, 1 want yon to show mo the way to Jlrs. Canijiian's
f*TieF above, No. 22,' said the boskeepep.
'*Ay, ay; bnt conduct me to it,* B»id Lothnir, and Le
iented the man with an overpowering honomriom, '•Certainly, my Ijord,' said the attendant, 'He knows me,' thoogbt Lothair; but it was not sa u the British nation is at once grat«fu! and enthnsiaatio, y always call yon ' my liord.'
s progress to 'No. 22, tier above,' all his valoui
ratud, ftiid when the boi-door waa opened he felt very
loh like a couvict on the verge of execution ; he changed
lour, his legs tottered, his heart beat, and he made hia
bow with a confused vision. The serenily of Theodora
•omewbat rcasanred him, and he seated liimself, and even
ealoted Mr. Phoebtts.
The conversation was vapid and conventional : romarka nhnnt the Opera and its performers ; even the heat of 1 he weather was mentioned, Lothair had conie, and be had itxDg to Bay. Jlrs. Campian seemed much intorestod ftthe porformanco ; bo, if ho had had anything to say, there I no opportunity of expressing it. She had not ap- to he so ecgrossod with the mnsie before his , In the meantime that Phcobus would not move; ■quarter of an hour elapsed, and that Phcubus would not JVC Lothair could nut stand it any longer ; he rose and lowed.
' Arc jou going ? ' said Theodora. ' Colntiel Campian wiU
146 LOTH AIR.
be hero in a moment ; he will be quite grieved not to see
you.'
Bat Lothair was inflexible. ' Perhaps,' she added, * we
may see you to-morrow night ? '
^ Never/ said Lothair to himself, as he clenched his teeth ;
^ my visit to Belmont was my first and my last. The dream
is over.'
He hurried to a club in which he had been recently
initiated, and of which the chief purpose is to prove to I mankind that night to a wise man has its resources as well
as gaudy day. Here striplings mature their minds in the
mysteries of whist, and stimulate their intelligence by ' playing at stakes wliich would make their seniors look pale ;
here matches are made, and odds are settled, and the cares ! or entorpiises of life are soothed or stimulated by fragrant
I cheroots or beakers of Badminton. Here, in the society of
the listless and freakish St. Aldcgonde, and Hugo Bohun, I and Bertram, and other congenial spirit's, Lothair consigned
i to oblivion the rival churches of Christendom, the Aryan
race, and the genius of Scmitism. I It was an hour past dawn when he strolled home. Lon-
don is often beautiful in summer at that hour, the architeo- { tnral lines clear and defined in the smokeless atmosphere,
and ever and anon a fragrant gale from gardened balconies I wafted in the blue air. Nothing is stirring except wagons
of strawberries and asparagus, and no one visible except a
policeman or a Memlxsr of Parliament returning from a
late division, where they have settled some great qua<«tion ! that need never have been asked. Eve has its spell of
calmness and consolation, but Dawn brings hope and joy. But not to Lothair. Toung, sanguine, and susceptible,
he had, for a moment, yielded to tlie excitement of tlie I recent scene, but with his senses stilled by the morning air,
I and free from the in fl nonce of Bertram's ready sympathy,
j and Hugo Bohun*s gay comments on human life, and all
LOTH AIR.
H?
I
t
tliD wild and arauBing caprice, and daring wilfiiltiosB, and gmiid afloclation ttmt dUtinguiiih and inxpiro n circle of patrician foat.h, there came over liim tbe conficiousnefls tliat to him something dark liad occnrrtil, flouietliing bitter and disappointing and L am ilia ting, and that tbe breaking mom would not bring to him a day eo bright and hopeE\U ta his former onoa.
At first ho fc'll into profound slumber : it was the in- erilAblo rosnit of tho Dadminton and the lat« hour. There W&8 a certain dr;;rco of pliyaicaj exhanstion wliich com- manded rcposo. But the eluml>cr vns not long, and bis lirst feeling, for it conld not bo called thought, was that ■ome great misfortune had occorred to him ; and then the thonght followiBg the fooling brought np the form of tbe bated Phisbus. Aftor tlrnt be bud no reid sleep, bnt n sort of oecattioual and feverish doze with intervals of inGiiil« distress, waking always to a ctmsciousncss of inexpressible tnortiGcation and despair.
About one o'clock, roIii:(|uishing all hope of real and re- rrtflhingslumbiir, he rang his bell, and bis vnlel appearing in- forropd him that Father Coleman had called, nnd the Monsig- noro bad calk-d, and that now the Cardinal's secretary had innt culled, bat the valet ]ia<l announced that Uis lord was in- dispused. There was also a letter from Latly St. Jerome. Tills news brought a new train of feeling. Lothair re- loembercd that this was tlie day of the great eculosiastical foDction, nndor the personal auspices of tbe Cardinal, at which indeed Lothair had never positively promised to UKist, bis presence at which he bad sometimes thonght they pressed nnreasonahly, not to say ovea indelicately, but Kt which he bad perhaps led them, cot without cause, to bo- liovo that he would be pi-eseut. Of late the Itlonsignore liad assameil that Lothair hud promised to attend it.
Why should be not P The world was all vanity. Never did he feel more convinced ihan at this moincnt of the
148 LOTH AIR.
tmth of his conclusion, that if religion were a real thingi man should live for it alone ; but then came the question of the Churches. He could not bring himself without a pang to contemplate a secession from the Church of his fathers. He took refuge in the wild but beautiful thought of a reconciliation between Rome and England. If the consecration of the whole of his fortune to that end could assist in effecting the purpose, he would cheerfully make the sacrifice. He would then go on a pilgrimage to the Holj Sepulchre, and probably conclude his days in a her- mitage on Mount Athos.
In the meantime he rose, and, invigorated by his bath, his thoughts became in a slight degree more mundane. They recurred to the events of the last few days of his life, but in a spirit of self-reproach and of conscious vanity and weakness. Why, he had not known her a week ! This was Sunday morning, and last Sunday he had attended St. Mary's and offered up his earnest supplications for the unity of Christendom. That was then his sovereign hope and thought. Singular that a casual acquaintance with a stranger, a look, a glance, a word, a nothing, should have so disturbed his spirit and distracted his mind.
And yet
And then he fell into an easy-chair, with a hairbrush in either hand, and conjured up in reverie all that had passed since that wondrous mom when he addressed her by the roadside, until the last dark hour when they parted, and for ever. There was not a word she had uttered to him, op to anyone else, that he did not recall ; not a glance, not a gesture : her dress, her countenance, her voice, her hair. And what scenes had all this passed in! What refined and stately loveliness ! Blenheim, and Oxford, and Bel- mont ! They became her. Ah ! why could not life con- sist of the perpetual society of such delightful people in such delightful places ?
L
LOTH AIR.
149
His valet cnUred and mfbrracd Iiim that the Monaignoro h^ retoniei], and nonld not be denied. Lothair roused bimself from his delicious reverie, tuid his coontciiBJice be- came anxiona and difiquieted. Ho woiild have strugg-Ied against the intrusion, and was mnrmoring resistance to hia Iiopeleaa attendant, who eliook his bead, when the Mo:isig- iiore glided into the room without permission, oa the volet dii«p[>earcJ.
onderfiil perforraanco: the Monsignoro liad at
Banie time to mak-e a reconnaissance and to take np a
itiuD, to &nd out what Lothair uit«nded to do, and ^et
act and apeak as if he was acqnainted with those int«R'
ti<>na, and was not only awni-e of, but approx-ed them. He
emmed hurried and jet tranquil, abnost breathloas witli
jolicitado and yet consclona of some satisfactory consnm-
ition. Bis tones wore at all times hushed, but to-day lie
a whisper, though a whisper of emphasis, and the
■k eyoB of hia delicato aristocratic visage peered into
, when he was making a remark which scorned
reqairo no scrutiny.
of the most important days for England that have happened in onr time,' said the Mensignore. ' Lady St.. Jerome thinks of nothing else. All our nobility will be there, the best blood in England, and some others who ipathise with the unity of the Church, the real question. rpthing has ever gratified the Cardinal more than your in- led presence. He sent to you this morning. Ho would kTO called himself, but he has much to go through to-day. Eminence said to mo : " It is exactly what I want. ivcrtnay bo onr dilTerencca, and they are really slight, it I want is to show to the world that the eons of tlio rch will unite for the cause of Divine truth. It is the ly oooNe that can save soeiety." When Lady St. Jerome him that you were coming this evening, his Eminence to niTected that '
ISO LOTH AIR.
^ But I never said I was coming this evening/ said Lo> thair, rather dryly, and resolved to straggle, * either to Lady St. Jerome or to anyone else. I said I would think of it.'
' But for a Christian to think of duty is to perform it,' said the Monsignore. ' To be i^orant of a duty is a sin, bat to be aware of daty, and not to fulfil it, is heinoas.'
' Bat is it a duty ? ' said Lothair, rather doggedly.
* What ! to serve God and save society ? Do you doubt it ? Have you read the " Declaration of Geneva ? " They nave declared war against the Church, the State, and the domestic principle. All the great truths and laws on which the family reposes are denounced. Have you seen Gari- baldi's letter? When it was read, and spoke of the re- ligion of God being propagated throughout the world, there was a universal cry of "No, no! no religion ! " But the religion of God wnn soon so explained as to allay all their fears. It is the religion of science. Instead of Adam, our ancestry is traced to the most grotesque of creatures; thought is phosphorus, the soul complex nerves, and our moral sense a secretion of sugar. Do you want these views in England ? Rest assured they are coming. And how are we to contend against them ? Only by Divine truth. And where is Divine truth ? In the Church of Christ: in the gospel of order, peace, and purity.'
Lothair rose, and paced the room with his eyes on the ground.
* 1 wish I had been bom in the middle ages,' he ex- cjlaimed, * or on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, or in some other planet : an3rwhere, or at any time, but in this country and in tliis age ! '
*That thought is not worthy of you, my Lord,' said Catcsby. *lt is a great privilege to live in this country and in this age. It is a great privilege, in the mighty contest between the good and the evil principle, to combat
LOTH AIR.
151
ibr the riglilenus. Tlicy stand face to fooo niiw, an thfy lave stood before. There Ja Ctiristinnity which, hy reveu!- ^^bg the tmtb, baa linutcd the license of bmnan reason ; ^^^ere is llist haniAD reoHOn which rosiste reTelulioti an a ^Hmidnfr^, which inHiitlB ojinu being' atheistical, or |>o1ytheii«- ^Tic»l, or jiHDUioistii-'iil ; which lookn npon the roi|iiirenieuts at ubwlieDce, justice, truth, and pnritj, as limitittioDB o( huiTULu friiiiom. It is to the Chnrch that God bus conunitt<>d ^^b» CDstivly and execution of His tmth and law. Tho ^JBiDrch, ns witness, teacher, and jmlgt;, t'onlnidicLB mid ^^■^da the sjiirit of license <o the t|uick. Tliia iit why it is ^Bftlnl; this is why it is to be dostroyefl, and why they are prrpiiring a fntnre of rebellion, tyntiiny, fulsehoud, and de- grading debanchury. The Chnrch ulone ciui siivo us, and jtrn &■« asked to supplicate tlie Almighty to-ni);I>t, nnder cbciuastanecs of deep hope, to fiivour the nuion of cburcb- Buen, and save tlie human race fruin the impending delngi-,' Lothair tliivw himself again into ]iia se&t and siglied. * 1 ^^ba ruther indisposed to-day, my df>ar ^lonHit^niore, which is ^^Biiisual with ttie, and scarcely equal lo suuh 11 theme, ^^■nbtlcsB of tile dec[iegt interest t« me and to all. I myself ^^Ksh, ns yon well know, that all mankind were praying ^^bder the same roof. 1 shall coutinue in Bi-cliiaion this ^^Moniing. Perhaps you will permit me to think over wbut ^^^a have said with so mach beanty and force,* ■
'I had forgotten that I had a letter to delircr to yon,' eud Catesby; and he drew from his breast- pock ut a uot« jrtiich be hatidi.<d lo Ijothair. who opened it quite nneun- pitms of the piercing and evon excited observation of bis jompanion.
I IjOthair rend the letter with a chtvn^ing conntenance, and
9 be rea<t it again and blnshcd deeply. The letter was
a Misa Arupdel, After a alight panne, without looking
I, he said, 'Nine o'clock is the hour, I beb'cve.'
* VoB,' aaid tlip filousipnore rather eagerly, ' but were I
152 LOTHAIR.
yon, I would be earlier than that. I woald order my carriage at eight. 1£ you will permit me, I will order it for you. You are not quite well. It will save you some little trouble, people coming into the room and all that, and the Cardinal will bo there by eight o'clock.
' Thank you,' said Lothair ; ' have the kindness then, my dear Monsignore, to oi^er my brougham for me at half- past eight, and just say I can see no one. Adieu ! '
And the priest disappeared.
Lothair remained the whole morning in a most troubled state, pacing his rooms, leaning sometimes with his srm upon the mantelpiece and his face buried in his arm, tnd often he sighed. About half-past five he rang for his valet and dressed, and in another hour he broke his fast : a little soup, a cutlet, and a glass or two of claret. And then lie looked at his watch ; and he looked at his watch every fi^e minutes for the next hour.
He was in deep reverie when the servant announced that his carriage was ready. He started as from a drean, then pressed his hand to his eyes, and kept it there Ut some moments, and then, exclaiming ' Jacta est alea,' le descended the stairs.
* Where to, my Lord ? ' enquired the servant when 1b had entered the carriage.
Lothair seemed to hesitate, and then he said, ' to Belmont'
CHAPTER XXXI.
* Belmont is the only house I know that is properly lighted,* said Mr. Phcebus, and he looked with complacent criticism round the brilliant saloons. ' I would not visit anyone who had gas in his house ; but even in palaces I find lamps ; it is too dreadful. When they came here first there was an
LOTHAIR. 153
isunense cbaodelier BnGpeuiled in each of these rooma, polUtig down liie ceilings, dwarfing the apartmonte, leaving tbc ^csts all in darkness, aad throwing all the light oa the roof. The chajidelier ia tha great abomination of fumi- tm*; it makes a noble apartment look email. And then they tay joa cajiaot ligiit rooms without chandeliers ! Iiook at these : UDod anything be more brilliant ? And all tile ligbt in the right place ; on tliose who are in the cham- ber. All light should came &oni the side of a room, and if jon choose ta hs^vB candelabra like these you can always Bccure snScient.'
■ ritcodoi^ was scaled on a sofa la conversation with a ladj of distinguished mien and with the countenance of & Soman empress. There were Taricua groups in the room, Standing or seated. Colonol Canipian was attending a lady ) the piano where a celebrity presided, a gentJeinoa with ropped Head aud a long black beard. The lady was of lary beanty ; ouo of tliose faces one Bncount«ra in ar, rich, glowing, with dork fringed eyes of trcma- I lastre ; a figure scarcely less striking, of voluptuona metry. Her t<:iilette was exquisite, purha]>3 a httlo too blendid for the occasion, bat abstractedly of fine taste, 1 she held, as she sang, a vast bonqaet entirely of white I flowers. The voice was as sweet as the stephauotis, I the eiectttion fanltless. It seemed the perfection ot r-siuging : no shi'ieks and no screams, none of those inising experiments which result from the fatal com- ititioQ of rival prima-donnoa.
B singing when Lothair was ushered in. Theo- tk roBO and greeted him with fi'iendliness. Her glance a lliat of gratification at his arrival, but the performanee reventod any conversation Rave a few kind remarks inter- wged in a bushed tone. Colonel Campian came up : be (omed quite delighted at renewing his acquaintance with ietliatr, and began to talk rather too loudly, which made
154 LOTH AIR,
some of the gentlemon near the piano torn round wiih glances of wondering reproach. This embarroBsed his newlj-arrived guest, who in his distress caught the bow of a lad J who recognised him, and whom he instantly rement- bered as Mrs. Putney Giles. There was a vacant chair by her side, and he was glad to occupy it.
* Who is that lady ? ' enquired Lothair of his companion when the singing ceased.
* That is Madame Phcsbus,' said Mrs. Giles.
^ Madame Phoebus ! ' exclaimed Lothair, with an uncon- scious feeling of some relief. ^ She is a very beautiful woman. Who was she ? '
^ She is a Cantacuzene, a daughter of the famous Greek merchant. The Cantacu zones, you know, ar^ great people, (iosccndants of the Greek Emperors. Her uncle is prince of Samos. Mr. Cantacuzene was very much opposed to the match, but I think quite wrong. Mr. Phoebus is a most distinguished man, and the alhance is of the happiest. Never was such mutual devotion.'
* I am not surprised,' said Lothair, wonderfully re- lieved.
* Her sister Euphrosyne is in the room,' continued Mrs. Giles, * the most extraordinary resemblance to her. There is just the difference between the matron and the maiden ; that is all. They are nearly of the same age, and before the marriage might have been mistaken for each other. The most charming thing in the world is to hear the two sisters sing together. I hope they may to-night. I know the family very well. It was IVlrs. Cantacuzene who intro- duced me to Theodora. You know it is quite en regie to call her Theodora. All the men call her Theodora ; " the divine Theodora " is, I believe, the right thing.'
* And do you call her Theodora ? ' asked Lothair, rather dryly.
* Why, no,' said Mrs. Giles, a litUo confused. • We are
LOTH AIR.
'55
t totim&te, at, lanst not very. Mrs. Uampion haa been sx
■J bonse, and I have bemi bcre two or thrco tmiea ; not bo
B I cocld wish, for Mr. Giles, you see, does not like
r»anl9 and liorsoa to be used on Sundnjs, and no more
week dajs he is too much engaged or loo tircil
0 come out this distance; so jou see '
The ainging had ceased, and Theodora approached them. dilressing Lothair, she said, ' The Princess of Tivoli wishca jiiat yon ahonlJ be presented to her.'
1 The Princess of Tivoli was a Roman dame of one of the it illnstrious houses, but nho now li?ed at Pam. She
d in her time taten an active part in Italian politics, and liad sacrificed to the cause to which she was devoted the larger part of a large fortune. What had been spaiiid, how- orer, permitted her to live in the Fi-ecch capital with vlegance, if not with splendour; and her galooa waa the gathering' roof. In Paris, of almost everyone who waa cele- brated for geiiius or aewmptiiihinonts, Thongli repnted U. be hanghty and capricious, she entertained for Theodora an eren pasaiouate friendship, and now visited England only to see her.
' Hadame Campian has been telling me of all the kind things yon did for her at Oxford,' said the Princess. * Some day yon roust nhow me Oxford, but it must be next year. I »ory much ailmi™ the free University life. Tell me now, It Oxford you still have the Protestant religion p ' fiothftir vontiircd lo bow asHcnt.
'Ah ! that is well," continued the PrincoHS. ' I advite i to keep it. If we had only hod the Pi-otostant religion i Italy, things would have beuii voiy different, Yon are Ttnnal« in this country in having the Protestant religion a real nohilily. Tell mc now, in yonr constitution, if B fntbersits in the upper chamber, the son sita in the lower } that I know : hul is there any nmjorat attached to it?*
156 LOTH AIR.
* Not at present/
* Yon sit in the lower boose of coarse ? *
' I am not old enough to sit in either house,' said Lo- thair, ' but when I am of age, which I shall be when I have the honour of showing Oxford to your Highness, I must sit in the upper house, for I have not the blessing of a living father.*
' Ah ! that is a great thing in jour country,' exclaimed the Princess, 'a man being his own master at so early an age.'
* I thought it was a " heritage of woe," ' said Lothair.
* No, no,' said the Princess ; * the only tolerable thing in life is action, and action is feeble without youth. What if you do not obtain your immediate object? — ^yoa always think you will, and the detail of the adventure is full of rapture. And thus it is the blunders of youth are pre- ferable to the triumphs of manhood, or the successes of old age.*
' Well, it will be a consolation for me to remember this when I am in a scrape,* said Lothair.
' Oh ! you have many, many scrapes awaiting you,' said the Princess. ' You may look forward to at least ten years of blunders : that is, illusions ; that is, happiness. Fortu- nate young man ! '
Theodora had, without appearing to intend it, relin- quished her seat to Lothair, who continued his conversation with the Princess, whom he liked, but who, he was sorry to hear, was about to leave England, and immediately, that very night. * Yes,* she said, * it is my last act of devo- tion. You know in my country we have saints and shrines. All Italians, they say, are fond, are superstitious ; my pil- grimage is to Theodoi'a. I must come and worship her once a year.*
A gentleman bowed lowly to the Princess, who returned
LOTH AIR. i;?
\ liifi Ba]at« with picaiwd aliicrity. ' Do you know wlio that
' aajd the Princess to Lothair. ' That is Barou Goze-
iKna, one of our great rcpntationa. He most htive jnst
Tired. I will present yon to him : it ia aJwaya n^reeablo
mho know a great man,' she added ; ' at least Goethe says
The philosopher, at her invitation, took a chair opposite e sofa. Though a profound man, he had all the vivacity Bnd passion which are geoeralljr supposed to be pccnliar to the superficial. He had remarkable conversation a! power, which be never spared. Ijothair was captivated by !iis eloquence, his striking observations, his warmth, and the flashing of his southern eye.
' Baron GozcUus agrees with your celebrated pastor, Dr Cnmmiug,' said Theodora, with a tinge of demure sarcasm, Kod believes that the end of the world 19 at hand. ' And for the same reasons ? ' enquired Lothair, ' Not emctly,' said Theodora, ' but in tliia iuBtance ience and revelation have arrived at the same result, and tX is what all desire.'
' All that I aaid wna,' said Goielins, ' that the action of 0 sun had become so irregular thut I thonght the chances sre in favour of tho destruction of our planet. At least, if I were a public office, I would not insure it.'
Tet the risk would not be very great under those cir- oamstances,' said Theodora.
The destruction of this world ia foretold,' aaid Lothair; the stars are to fall from the sky ; bnt while I credit, I euinot bring my mind to comprehend, such a catastrophe.' I have seen a world created and a world destroyed,' feBid Gozehus. * The last was flickering ten years, and it went out as I wafl watohing it,'
And the first ? ' enquired Lothair anxiously. Disturbed space for half a century ; a great pregnancy,
158 LOTH AIR.
William Herscbel told me it would come when I wajB a boy, and I cruised for it through two- thirds of mj life. It came at last, and it repaid me.'
There was a stir. Euphrosyne was going to sing with her sister. They swept by Lothair in their progress to the instrument, like the passage of sultanas to some kiosk on the Bosphorus. It seemed to him that he had never be- held anything so resplendent. The air was perfumed by their movement and the rustling of their wondrous robes. 'They must be of the Aryun race,' thought Lothair, ' though not of the Phidian type.' They sang a Greek air, and their sweet and touching voices blended with exquisite harmony. Everyone was silent in the room, because every^ one was entranced. Then they gave their friends some patriotic lay which required a chorus, the sisters in turn singing a stanza. Mr. PhcBbus arranged the chorus in a moment, and there clustered round the piano a number of gentlemen almost as good-looking and picturesque as him- self. Then, while Madame Phosbus was singing, Euphrosyne suddenly and with quickness moved away and approached Theodora, and whispered something to her, but Theodoi^a slightly shook her head and seemed to decline.
Euphrosyne regained the piano, whispered something to Colonel Campian, who was one of the chorus, and then commenced her own part. Colonel Campian crossed the room and spoke to Theodora, who instantly, without the sb'ghtest demur, joined her friends. Lothair felt agitated, as he could not doubt Theodora was going to sing. And BO it was ; when Euphrosyne had finished, and the chorus she had inspired had died away, there rose a deep contralto sound, which, though without effort, seemed to Lothair the most thrilling tone he had ever listened to. Deeper and richer, and richer and deeper, it seemed to become, afi it wound with exquisite facility through a symphony of de- licious sound, until it ended in a passionate burst, which
LOTHMR.
>i9
I LotIiair*E heart beet Eo tomnltaoiuily tlt&t Tor a wment lie tboaglit be fihoatd be onerpowerDd.
' I nerer heard anjrthiiig ao fine iu my life,' aaJd Lotbair D the French philosopher.
if yon lidd heard t list woman sing the MarsdIlaiBB, i I did once, Co three thoDsand people, then joa 'nmild ^now what was fioe. Not one of us who would not bftvp died on the spot for her 1 '
Tlie concert whs over. The PrinWKs of Tivoli had risen D eny rarewell. She stood apart with Theodora, holding K>th her hands, and speaking with eomestneBB. Then ehe J her lips to Theodora's forehead and said, 'Adieu, iDf b<»t belored ; the spring will retnm.'
The Princess had disappeared, and Uadame Phtebus
e up to saj good night to ber boetcss. 'It is such a dehcioas nifi^ht,' said Tlieodom, 'that I nave ordered oor Btrawberries and cream on the terrace. Too must not go.'
And ao she invited them all to the terrace. There vra» a breath of air, the gnrden was flooded with moonlight 1 which the fountain gUttcred, and the atmosphere was ae
' I tbintc the moon will melt the ice to-Dight,' said Theo- ) led Modmne Photbos to a table covered with that innocent refreshment in many forms, and pyramids of strawberries, and gentle drinks which the faecy of Ameriui eonld alone dovise.
'I wonder we did not pass the whole evening on tlio
,' said Iiothair
* One must sing in 3 room,' said Enphrosyne, ' or the igbtingales would eclipse ns.'
LotLoir looked qnickly at the speaker, and canght the e of a peculiar countenance : mockery blended wiUi n splendour. ' I think atrawborrica and cream the most popular of sH
,6o LOTH AIR.
n
food/ said Madame Phoebnii, as some tonched her beaaiifii] lips.
' Yes ; and one is not ashamed ot eating it,' said Theo- dora.
Soon there was that stir which precedes the breaking np of an assembly. Mrs. Giles and some others had to retom to town. Madame Phoebus and Euphrosyne were near neighbours at Roehampton, but their carriage had been for some time waiting. Mr. Phoebus did not accompany them. He chose to walk home on such a night, and descended into the garden with his remaining friends.
'They are going to smoke,' said Theodora to Lothair.
• Is it your habit ? '
* Not yet.'
' I do not dislike it in the air and at a distance ; but I banish them the terrace. I think smoking must be a great consolation to a soldier ; ' and as she spoke, she moved, and, without formally inviting him, he found himself walk- ing by her side.
Rather abruptly he said, * You wore last night at the Opera the same ornament as on the first time I had the pleasure of meeting you.'
She looked at him with a smile, and a little surprised.
* My solitary tiinket ; I fear you will never see any other.'
* But you do not despise trinkets ? ' said Lothair.
* Oh ! no, they are very well. Once I was decked with jewels and ropes of pearls, like Titian's Queen of Cyprus. I sometimes regret my pearls. There is a reserve about pearls which I like, something soft and dim. But they are all gone, and I ought not to regret them, for they went in a good cause. I kept the star, because it was given to me by a hero, and once we flattered ourselves it was a symbol.'
' I wish I were a hero,' said Lothair.
* Yon may yet prove one '
^B LOTHAIR. I6i
^^P' And if I do, may I give yon a, star f ' ^™'* ir it be symlwUcal.' 'Bntofwhflt?' ' or nn heroic porpose,'
' Bnt what is &n heroic porpose ? ' exdauned Loihair. • Instead of being here to-night, I ought [lerhapB to hiive liecn present ut a religions function of the highest and dLt-pcRt import, which might have ioflnenct'd my desi.iny «nd kil to something heroic. Bnt my mind is ascertain imJ nneelllod. I speak to you without resen'e, for my hcflirt always entirely opens to yon, and I have a sort of anJimitcd confidence in your judgment. BeaideB, 1 have never forgotten what yon said at Oxford abont religion : that you conld not conceive society without religion. It ■ what I fuel myself, and moat strongly ; and yet there a period when rclipon was so assailed. There I no doabt the Atheists are bolder, are more completely niaed, both as to infellectnal and even physical force, D ever was known. I have beard that from the highest Biority. For my own part, I think I am prepared to die pDivino truth. I have eiamiced myself severely, but I tsot think I ehonid falter. Indeed, can there bo for maii jobler duty than to he the champion of God ? But then I qneetion of the Churches interferes. If there weio f one Chnrch, I could see my way. Without a Church bo no true religion, becanse otherwise you have ■ scourity for the truth. I am a member of the Church I England, and whi>n I was at Oxford I thought the An- 1 view might he sustained. But of late I have given r mind deeply ta these matters, for after all tliey are the idf matlers h man Hhoahl tliink of; and I confuss to you " B claim of Uonio to orthiidoiy seems to me irrcBiBtible. *Tan make no distinction, then, between religion tni rthodoxy,* said Theodom. ' Certainly I make no difference.'
i62 LOTH AIR.
^ And yet what is orthodox at Dover is not orthodox at Calais or Ostcnd. I should he sorry to think that, becanso there was no orthodoxy in Belgium or France, there was no religion.'
' Yes,* said Lothair, * I think I see what you mean.' 'Then again, if we go further,' continued Theodora, ' there is the whole of the East ; that certainly is not orthodox according to your views : you may not agree with all or any of their opinions, but you could scarcely maintain that, as communities, they are irreligious.'
* Well, you could not certainly,* said Lothair.
* So you see,' said Theodora, * what is called orthodoxy hiis very little to do with religion ; and a person may be very religious without holding the same dogmas as yourself^ or, as some think, without holding any.*
'According to you, then,' said Lothair, 'the Anghcan view might be maintained.'
* I do not know what the Anglican view is,' said Theo- dora. ' I do not belong to the Roman or to the Anglican Church.'
' And yet you are very religious,' said Lothair.
* I hope so ; I try to be so ; and when I fail in any duty, it is not the fault of my religion. I never deceive myself into that ; I know it is my own fault.*
There was a pause ; but they walked on. The soft splendour of the scene and all its accessories, the moon- light, and the fragrance, and the falling waters, wonder- fully bewitched the spirit of the young Lothair.
' There is nothing I would not tell you,' he suddenly ex- claimed, turning to Theodora, ' and sometimes I think there is nothing you would not tell me. Tell me then, I entreat you, what is your religion ? '
' The true religion, I tliink,' said Theodora. ' I worship in a church where I believe God dwells, and dwells for my guidance and my good : my conscience.*
snsdence maj bo divine,' said LotLair, ' and 1 e it 18; bnt the cunsciences of other persons ore not what ia to guide them, and what is to prevent il« tie evil they wonid perpetrate ? ' never heard from priestg,' said Theodora, ' any truth which ray conscience had not revealed to tne. They nse different language from nliat I ubo, but I find after a time that we mean the same thing, Wbat I call time they
P eternity ; when they describe heaven, they give A tnre of earth j and beings whom they style divine they Bitt with all the attributes of bnmanity.' And yet Ja it not true,' said Lotbair, ' that '
Bnt at this moment there were the sonnds of merriment l_ Aad of approaching footsteps ; the fflrm of Mr, PLcebna ap- L^Mred ascending the steps of the terrace, followed by ^^^bers. The smokers hod Fulfilled their task. There were ^^HfvwelU, and bows, and good-nights, Luthair had to retire ^^Kth the others, and as he threw biinseif into his brougham lie excliumcd, ' I perceive that Ufo ia not so simple an affair u I ODCC eapposcd.'
■ CHAPTER XXXII.
Wut.t the stranger, who had proved ao opportune an ally
to tiothair at the Fenian meeting, separated &om his com-
iD, he proceeded in the direction of Pentonvillo, and,
pursuing his way through a number of obscure streets,
quiot, decent, and monotonous, ho stopped at a small
) iu a row of many residencea, all of them in form,
colonr, and general character so identical, that the
number on the door could alone assure the visitor that he
not in error when he sounded the knocker.
Ah ! is it you, Captain Brngos P ' said the smiling and
to U
i
i64 LOTH AIR.
blushing maiden who answered to his snmmons. 'We have not seen you for a long time.*
* Well, yon look as kind and as pretty as ever, Jenny,* said the Captain ; * and how is my friend ?'
* Well,' said the damsel, and she shrugged her shoulders, * he mopes. I'm very glad you have come back, Captain, for he sees very few now, and is always writing. I cannot bear that writing ; if he would only go and take a good walk, I am sure he would be better.*
' There is something in that,' said Captain Bruges. * And is he at home, and will he see me ? '
* Oh ! he is always at home to you. Captain ; but I will just run up and tell him you are here. Yon know it is long since we have seen you. Captain ; coming on half a year, I think.'
* Time flies, Jenny. Go, my good girl, and I will wait below.'
' In the parlour, if you please. Captain Bruges. It is ta let now. It is more than a month since the Doctor left u& That was a loss, for as long as the Doctor was here, he always had some one to speak with.'
So Captain Bruges entered the little dining-room, with its mahogany table, and half-a-dozen chairs, and cellaret^ and over the fireplace a portrait of Garibaldi, which had been left as a legacy to the landlady by her late lodger, Dr. Trcsorio.
The Captain threw a quick glance at the print, and then falling into reverie, with his hands crossed behind him, paced the little chamber, and was soon lost in thoughts which made him unconscious how long had elapsed when the maiden summoned him.
Following her, and ascending the staircase, he was ushered into the front room of the first floor, and there came forward to meet him a man rather below the middle height, but of a symmetrical and imposing mien. His
LOTHAIR. i6s
tv» was grave. Dot to say snd; thonglit, uot time, hod partially silvered the clnstcring of his raven hair; but inteUectnal power reigned in his wide brow, whDe detef minatioD was the character of the rest of Ills cotmtencince under greut contiol, j-et apparently, from the dark flashing of his eye, not incompatible with fanaticism.
'General,' lie eiclaimed, 'your presence always rcani- tostcfl me. I shall at least have some news on which I can ivly. Toar visit is andden ; sudden tilings aro often hjippy ones. la there anything etirring in the promised land F Speak, speak ! Yoa have a thousand tiiinga to ^^7, (tad 1 have a. thonsand ears.'
^B ' Uy dear Mirandolii,' replied the visitor, ' I will take Htkve to ndl into cooncil a friend whose presence is always profitable.'
So saying, he took ont a cigar-case, and oOered it to hia
' We liavo amoked together in palnces,' said Mirandola, ■eceptjcg the profl'er with a delicate white hand.
' Bat not these cigars,' replied the General. ' They are Bperb, my only reward for al! my tranaatlantic work, and 9 I think a w
* AxiA Jenny shall glvo ns a capital cup of c loU : ' it is the only hospitality that I can ofl'er my
Give ma a light, my General ; and now, Iiow a ings?
* Well, at Ibo Erat glance, very l)ad ; the French have l»fl Rome, and we are not m it.'
' WoU, tliat is an infamy not of to-day or yesterday,' T«plied Mirandola, Hhoogh not less an ioiainy. We talked over this six months ago, when you were over here abont Bometlung else, and from that moment nnto the preseot I bave mtli unceasing eSort laboured to erase tiiis stigma a the human consciousness, but with oo success. Mou cbapged ; public spirit is eztiact ; the deeds of '4^ exa
i66 LOTH AIR.
to the present generation as incomprehensible as the Pnnio wars or the feats of Marins against the Cimbri. What we want are the most natural things in the world, and easy of attainment because thej are uatural. We want our metro- polis, our native frontiers, and true liberty. Instead of these we have compromises, conventions, provincial jealou- sies, and French prefects. It is disgusting, heartrending ; sometimes I fear my own energies are waning. My health is wretched ; writing and speaking are decidedly bad for me, and I pass my life in writing and speaking. Towards evening I feel utterly exhausted, and am sometimes, which I thought I never could be, the victim of despondency. The loss of the Doctor was a severe blow, but they harried him out of the place. The man of Paris would never rest till he was gone. I was myself thinking of once more trying Switzerland, but the obstacles are great; and, in truth, I was at my darkest moment when Jenny brought me the light of your name.'
The General, who had bivouacked on a group of small chairs, his leg on one, his elbow on another, took his cigai from his mouth and delivered himself of a volume of smoke, and then said dryly, ' Things may not be so bad as they seem, comrade. Your efforts have not been withont fruit. I have traced them in many quarters, and, indeed, it is about their possible consequences that I have come over to consult with you.'
' Idle words, I know, never escape those lips,' said Mirandola ; * speak on.'
'Well,' said the General, 'you see that people are a little exhausted by the efforts of last year ; and it must be confessed that no slight results were accomplished. The freedom of Venice '
* A French intrigue,' exclaimed Mirandola. * The free- dom of Venice is the pnce of the slavery of Rome. I hoard of it with disgust.'
LOTHAIR. ifi?
I'Well, we do not differ nmeh on ttat bead,' snid tho nerftl. ' 1 am not a Roman as you are, bnt £ view me, with reference to tbe object of my life, with feelingB t leas ardent and absorbing tban yourself, who would L to see it again tho empresa of the world- I am a Idicr, and love war, and, left to mjBelf, would care little prbapa for what form of goverument I combated, provided e army was conXtituted on tbo principles of fmternity and Ji^ ! bnt the pa<iiiion of my lil'e, to which I have siwri- 1 nulitary position, and jiorbapB,' be added in a lower I, ' perhaps even military fame, haa been to destroy ■ieetCTark, and, so long ua the Pope roles in Homo, it will ^Bopreme,' i*Wb hare stmck birn down once,' said Mirandola. •And I hope we shall again, and for ever,' eaid (he Micml, ' and it is about tliat I would speak. You aro in □ supposing that your {rionds do not sympathise with (, or that their answers are dilatory or ovnsive. There l^ianch astir; tho old spirit is not extinct, but the dilli- B greater than in former days when we had only B Anstrians to encounter, and we cannot afford to make ' ttaotberrailnre.'
' There conid bo no failnre if we were clear and detor-
minod. There nmst be a hondrcd thousand men who
woiUd die for our metropolis, oar natural frontiers, and
tme liberty. The mass of the psendo-Italian army mnst
1 1 bo with ns. As for foroign interference its repetition
J^^hema to mo impossible. The brotherhood in the diForont
^^■BDntrieB, if well guided, could alone pi-event it. There
^Hnonld be at onco a manifesto addi-esxed to the peoples.
^^They have become absorbed in money- grubbing' and wlmt
Uiey coll industry. The extcronl life of a nation is its most
inportant one. A nation, as an individnal, has dutius to
iUfil appointed by God and Uis moral liiw : the individoal
towards Ida family, his town, hi:^ couotry; the uatiou
k
i68 LOTHAIR.
towards the coiintrj of countries, humanity : the outward world. I firmly believo that we fail and renounce the religious and divine element of our life whenever we betray or neglect those duties. The internal activiiy of a nation is important and sacred because it prepares the in- strument for its appointed task. It is mere egotism if it converges towards itself degrading and doomed to expi^ tion ; as will be the fate of this country in which we now dwell,' added Mirandola, in a hushed voice. * England had a mission : it had belief, and it had power. It announced itself the representative of religious, commercial, and poli- tical freedom, and yet, when it came to action, it allowed Denmark to be crushed by Austria and Prussia, and, in the most nefarious transaction of modem times, uttered the approving shriek of ** Perish Savoy ! " '
'My dear Miraudola,' said the Greneral, trimming his cigar, * there is no living man who appreciates your genius aHd your worth more than myself; perhaps I might say there is no living man who has had equal opportunities of estimating them. You formed the mind of our country ; you kindled and kept alive the sacred flame when all was gloom, and all were without heart. Such prodigious de- votion, so much resource and pertinacity and patience, such unbroken spirit, were never before exhibited by man, and, whatever may be said by your enemies, I know that in the greatest hour of action you proved equal to it; and yet at this moment, when your Mends are again stirring, and there is a hope of spring, I am bound to tell you that there are only two persons in the world who can effect tlie revolution, and you are not one of them.*
* I am ardent, my General, perhaps too sanguine, but I liave no self-love, at least none when the interests of the great cause are at stake. Tell me then their names, and count, if required, on my co-operation.*
' Garibaldi and Mary-Anne.*
LOTH AIR.
169
' A PolctineUo and a Bayadere ! ' exclaiinod ^lirnndola,
I, spnnging from his seat, lie uupatien tly paced the room.
' And yet,' coBtinned the General calmly, ' there is no TDBuner of doabt that Garibaldi is the only name that could collect ten thonsand men at any given point in ItaJy ; while in France, though her influence ie mytldcal, the Dame of Uary-Acne ia a name of magic. Though never mentioned, it is never forgotten. Atid the elightest nltii- sioQ to it among the initiated will open every heart. Thcra ni-e more secret societies in France at this moment than at aiiy period aince '65, though yoa hear cothing of them ; %nd they believe in Mary-Anne, and in nothing else.'
' Yon have been at Caprera P ' aiiid Mirandola
'I have been at Caprera.'
' And what did he say ? '
*Ho will do nothing w Toynrd.'
'Ha vraata to get woandod in his otiior foot,' said Mirandola, with savago saraasni. 'Will lie never weary of being betrayed ? '
,' said the General.
ithont the sanction of the So-
I foond him ctdm and si What of the woman i* '
Q&ribaldi will not move without the Savoyard, and '-Anno will uot move without Garibaldi ; that Ii^ the
^^B ■ Hbts you seen her ? '
^^V 'Not yet; I have been to Capi-cm, and I have come over ^To see her uxd you. Italy ia ready for tlio move, and is only waiting fur the great man. H.i will not act withont the Savoyard ; he believes in him, 1 will not be sceptieul. There are dilttcidtiea cnou!*h without imnginiDg any. We have no m»ney, and all onr soorees of snjiply are di'iunod ; bat we have the inspiration of a sacred cause, we have yon ; _we may gain otlters, and, at any rale, the French are no ngur at Rome.'
I70 LOTH AIR,
CHAPTER XXXILL
• Thi Goodwood Cup, my Lord ; the Doncaster. Thia pair of flagons for bis Highness the Khedive, something quite new. Yes, parcel-gilt, the only style now ; it gives relief to design : yes, by Monti, a great man, hardly inferior to Flaxman, if at all. Flaxman worked for Rondell and Bridge in the old days, one of the principal causes of their saccess. Toar Lordship's gold service was supplied by Rundell and Bridge. Very fine service indeed, mach by Flaxman : nothing of that kind seen now.'
' I never did see it,' said Lothair. Ho was replying to Mr. Rnby, a celebrated jeweller and goldsmith, in a cele< brated street, who had saluted him when he had entered the shop, and called the attention of Lothair to a group of treasures of art.
' Strange,* said Mr. Ruby, smiling. ' It is in the next room, if your Lordship would like to see it. I think your Lordship should see your gold service. Mr. Putney Giles ordered it here to be examined and put in order.'
' I should like to see it very much,' said Lothair, ' though I came to speak to yon about something else.'
And so Lothair, following Mr. Ruby into an inner apart- ment, had the gratification, for the first time, of seeing his own service of gold plate laid out in completeness, and which had been for some time exhibited to the daily admir- ation of that favoured portion of the English people who frequent the brilliant and glowing counters of Mr. Ruby.
Not that Lothair was embarrassed by their presence at this moment. The hour of their arrival had not yet come. Business had not long commenced when Lothair entered the shop, somewhat to the surprise of its master. Those
thi
LOTH AIR. 171
wlio know Bond Street only in t1io blaze of fasli ions, tile hours con form bol an imperfect conceptdon of its matotinnl cfaarm, when it is still Bhadj and fresh, when there are no carrisgcB, rarely a cart, and pasBera-by gliding about on real bnsinoBS. One feela as in some continental city. Then there are time and opportunity to look at the shops ; and there ia no street in the world that can fiimifth aucit a ooUeetion, filled with bo many objects of beanty, cnrioaity, and interest The jewellors and goldsmiths and dealers iu mi« funiitnre ; porcelain, and ca.binet3, and French pic- turefl ; have long fixed npon Bond Street as their faronritc qn&rtAr, and are not chary of displaying their treasuroa ; though it may bo a question whether aomo of the magazines of fancy food, delicacies cnlled from all the climes and regions of the globe, particularly at the matin hoar, may not, in their picturesque variety, be the most attractive. The palm, perhaps, would be given to the fishniongera, with their eiuberant exliihitions, grouped with Bkill, ■tartling often with strange forms, dazzling with prismatic tints, and breathing the invigorating redolence of the sea.
' Well, I like the service,' eoid Lothair, 'and am glad, as
you tell me, that its fashion has come round again, because
there will now he no neccBsitj for ordering a new one. I
do not myself much care for plate. I like flowers and por-
a table, and I like to see the guests. However, I
ippoBe it is al] right, and I most nse it. It waa not about ilate that I called ; I wanted to speak to yon about pearls.'
' Ah ! ' said Mr. Ruby, and his face hright«ned ; and ushering Lothair to some glass eases, he at the same time provided his customer with a seat.
Something like that ? ' said Mr. Ruby, wlio by this time slid into his proper side of the counter, and was un-
:kiug the glass cases ; ' something like tliat P ' and he {>1ac«d before Lothair a string of pretty pearls with a dkmond cluap, ' With the earrings, twenty-five hundred,'
172 LOTH AIR.
ho added ; aud then, observing that Lothair did not enchanted, he said, * This is something quite new,' and ha carelessly pushed towards Lothair a magnificent necklace of turquoises and brilliants.
It was impossible not to admire it, the arrangement was 80 novel and jet of such good taste ; but though its price was double that of the pearl necklace, Mr. Rubj did not seem to wish to force attention to it, for he put in Lothair*s hands almost immediately the finest emerald necklace in the world, and set in a style that was perfectly ravishing.
' The setting is from the Campana collection,' said Mr. Ruby. • They certainly understood things in those days, but I can say that, so far as mere workmanship is oouc cemed, this quite equals them. I have made one for the Empress. Here is a black pearl, very rare, pear shape, and set in Golconda diamonds, two thousand guineas ; it might be suspended to a necklace, or worn as a locket. This is pretty,' and he offered to Lothair a gigantio sapphire in brilliants and in the form of a bracelet.
* The finest sapphire I know is in this ring,' added Mr, Ruby, and he introduced his visitor to a tray of precious rings. * I have a pearl bracelet here that your Lordship might like to see,' and he placed before Lothair a case of fifty bracelets, vying with each other in splendour.
* But what I want,' said Lothair, * are pearls.'
* I understand,' said Mr. Ruby. * This is a curious thing,' and he took out a paper packet. * There ! ' he said, opening it and throwing it before Lothair so carelessly that some of the stones ran over the glass covering of the counter. • There, that is a thing not to be seen every day, a packet of diamonds, bought of an Indian prince, and sent by us to be cut and polished at Amsterdam (nothing can be done in that way except there), and just returned ; nothing vei*y remarkable as to size, but all of high quality : some fine stones ; that for example,' and he touched one with the
r
^L sbip rei
LOTHAIR. 173
tong noi. of his little fin^r ; ' that is worth seven hnndrod eutncoa, the whole packet worth pethaps ten thoosand pounds.'
' Very interesUng,' Bsid Lothair, ' but what I want are pearls. That necklace which yoa have shown me is like the necklace of a doll. I want pearls, sach as joa soe them in Italian pictures, Titiacs and Gior^oiies, suL-h as a Queen of Cyprus would wear. I want ropes of pcsris.'
'All!' said Mr. Hoby, 'I know what your Lordship mcnn^. Lady Bideford had Bomethicy; of that kind. Sba Tfiy much deceivL'd ua; always told ua her neuklace must bo sold at her death, and she had very had hi'ahh. We waitod, bnt when she went, poor lady, it was elsimcd by the heir, and is in Chancery at this very moment. Tlie Jostini&nis have ropes of pearls ■, Madame Jnatiniani of Pftris, I have been told, gives a rope to every one of her chUiiren when they marry; bnt there is no expectation of a Jnstiniani parting with anything. Pearls are trouble- some property, my Lord. They rerjuire great cfvre ; they want I)otb air and eicrcise ; they mnst be worn frequently ; you cannot lock them up, The Duchess of Uax-ant has the Giiost pearls in this country, and I told her Grace, " Wear them whenever yoa can, wear thom at breakfaat ;" and her Qrwx follows mj advice, she does wear them at hreak- faat. I go down to Havant Castle every year to ace her Omce's poaris, and I wipe every one of them myself, and let them lie on a sunny bank in the garden, in a westerly wind, for Itonra and days together. Their complexion would have been ruined had it not been for this treatment. Pearla are like girls, my Lord, they require quite as much Attention.'
'Then you cannot give me what I want? ' said Lothair.
' Well, I can, and I cannot," said Mr. Ruby. ' I am in a diffionlly. I have in this house exactly what your LonU ship requires, but 1 have oQered them to Lord Topax, and
1 74 LOTH AIR.
I have not received his answer. We have infitmciions to inform his Lordship of every very precious jewel that we ob- tain, and give him the preference as a purchaser. Neverthe- less there is no one I could more desire to oblige than your Lordship ; your Lordship has every claim upon us, and I should bo truly glad to find these pearls in your Lordship's possession if I could only see my way. Perhaps your Lordship would like to look at them ? '
* Certainly, but pray do not leave me here alone with all these treasures/ said Lothair, as Mr. Ruby was quitting the apartment.
* Oh ! my Lord, with you ! '
' Tes, that is all very well ; but if anything is missed hereafter, it will always be remembered that these jewels were in my possession, and I was alone. I highly object to it.' But Mr. Ruby had vanished, and did not inmie- diately reappear. In the meantime it was impossible for Lothair to move : he was alone and surrounded with precious necklaces, and glittering rings, and gorgeous bracelets, with loose diamonds running over the countor. It was not a kind or an amount of property that Lothair, relinquishing the trust, could satisfactorily deliver to a shopman. The shopman, however honest, might be sud- denly tempted by Satan, and take the next train to liver- pool. He felt therefore relieved when Mr. Ruby re- entered the room, breathless, with a velvet casket. ' I beg pardon, my Lord, a thousand pardons, but I thought I would just run over to Lord Topaz, only in the square close by. His Lordship is at Madrid, iTae only city one cannot depend on communications with by telegraph. Spaniards strange people, very prejudiced, take all sorts of fancies in their head. Besides, Lord Topaz has more pearls than he can know what to do with, and I should like your Lordship to see these,' and he opened the casket,
' Exactly what I want,* exclaimed Lothair ; ' these must
LOTH AIR.
175
tfao TCiy pearia the Qocen of Cypms wore. What ia BIT price ? '
*Thcy are from Genoa nud belonged to a, Doge,' BaJd Me. iby ; ' yoor Lonlsliip sliall Lave them for the sum via vo for tbetn. Tbore shall bo no profit on tbo tmnsac- in, and wu Hh&ll be proud of it. Wo gave fur them four Dnsand gnincna.'
' I will take them with me,' said Lotbair, who waa mid, if he left them behiud, Loi'd Topaz might arrive
the inter ral.
CHAPTER XXXrV.
XH had retnroed home from hin last visit to Delmont itated bj many thoaghte, but, genei-ally epeaking, deeply ising over ita mistress. Couuidcrablo speculation on [igion, the Cburohes, the solar system, the coamical order, 6 purpose of creation, and the deslioy of riiH.-n, waa lintaineil ia his too rapid progi'ess from Roehamptoo his Belgravian botol ; bat tbo ossooiatiun of ideas always rminated the consideration of every topic by a wondering d deeply iatereBting eaqniry when he should Bee her ain. And hero, ia order to simplify this narrative, wa will at once chronicle the solution of this grave qnestioa. On the afternoon of the next day, Lothiiir monnted lua with the intention of calling on Lady St. JeiiDnie, perhaps some other persons, bat it ia carious to ob. that he soon found himself on the road to Roehamp- whero be waa in due time payinR a visit to Theodora. what is more remarkable is that the same result ,rred every day afterwards. Begnlarly every Jay be »Tisit to Belmont. Nor waa this all ; very often bo visits, for bo rcmt^mbcred Iliat in the evening
176 LOTH AIR.
Theodora was al'tirajs at borne. Lotliair used io hnny to town from his morning visit, dine at some great honm, which satisfied the demands of society, and then drive down to Boehampton. The guests of the evening saloon, when thej witnessed the high ceremony of Lothair*8 manner, which was natural to him, when he entered, and the wel- come of Theodora, could hardlj believe that a few hours only had elapsed since their separation.
And what was the manner of Theodora to him when they were alone ? Precisely as before. She never seemed in the least surprised that he called on her every day, or even twice a day. Sometimes she was alone, frequently she had com- panions, but she was always the same, always appeared gratified at his arrival, and always extended to him the same welcome, graceful and genial, but without a spark of coquetry. Yet she did not afiect to conceal that she took a certain interest in him, because she was careful to introduce him to distinguished men, and would say, *You should know him ; he is master of such a subject. You will hear things that you ought to know.' But all this in a sincere and straightforward manner. Theodora had not the slightest aficctation; she was always natural, though a little reserved. But this reserve appeared to be the result of modesty rather than of any desire of concealment. When they were alone, though always calm, she would talk with freedom and vivacity, but in the presence of others she rather led to their display, and encouraged them, ofben with a certain degree of adroit simplicity, to descant on topics whicli interested them, or of which they were com- petent to treat. Alone with Lothair, and they were often alone, though she herself never obtruded the serious subjects round which he was always fluttering, she never avoided them, and without involving herself in elaborate arguments, or degenerating into conversational controversy, she had a habit of asking a question, or expressing a sentiment, whiob icreatly afifected his feelings or perplez^d his oDiniona.
I Had nnt the «
a been long waning, this change in the
i
Lothair mnst have been noticed, i
iii&telj discovered. Bat the social critics cease to be oV
servant towoTda the end of July. All the world then are
thinking of theniaelvea, and have no time tc speculate or
the fate and fortunes of their neighbours. Tbe camptugn is
loo near its close ; the balance of the Beason must aoon ha
stmch, tbe great book of society made. In a few weeka,
even in a few days, what long and subtle plans shattered
or trinmphnnt I what prizes gained or missed ! what batBed
hopes, and what broken hearts! The baHled hopes must
> Cowes, and the broken hearts to Ba<len. There were
I great ladies who did remark t!iat Lothair was seldom
at balls ; and Hugo Bohun, wlia had been stayiug at
aunt Laily Gertrude's villa for change of air, did say to
irtrain thut he had met Lothair tivice on Barnes Common,
anked Bertram if he knew the reoHOn why. But the
hat Lothair was cruising in waters which their crafl
entered combined with the lateness of the scaeoa to
all the ingenuity of Hugo Bobnn, thongh he generally
;nd out evenrthiag.
The great difficulty which Lothair had to apprehend was ith his Roman Catholic friends. The xystem of the lonsigDori WHS never to let him he out of sight, and bis abeeoco from the critical function had not only disappointed bnt alarmed them. But the Jesuits are wise men; they lose their tcnuM-'r. They know when to avoid scones well as when to make them. Monsignore Catesby called Lotliair Hit frequently as before, and never mode the lightest allusion to the miscarriage of their expectations. Strange to say, the innocent Lothair, naturally so straight- forward and 90 honourable, found himself instinctively, almost it might be said unconsciously, defending bimself ftgafnat his Invvlers with some of their own weapons. He BtQ] t&lkod about building his cathedral, of which, not
178 LOTH AIR.
ooutented with mere plans, he even gave orders that a model Bhould be made, and he still received statements on points of faith from Father Coleman, on which he made marginal notes and queries. Monsignore Catesbj was not altogether satisfied. He was suspicious of some disturbing cause, but at present it baffled him. Their hopes, however, were high ; and they had cause to be sanguine. In a month's time or so, Lothair would be in the country to celebrate his majority; his guardian the Cardinal was to be his guest ; the St. Jeromes were invited, Monsigpiore Catesby himself. Here would be opportunity and actors to avail themselves of it.
It was a very few days after the first evening visit of Tiothair to Belmont that he found himself one morning alone with Theodoiti. She was in her bowery boudoir, copying some music for Madame Phoebus, at least in the intervals of conversation. That had not been of a grave character, but the contrary, when Lothair rather abruptly said, ' Do you agrea Mrs. Campian, with what Mr. PhoDbus said the other night, that the greatest pain must be the sense of death ? '
'Then mankind is generally spared the greatest pain,* she replied, 'for I apprehend few people are sensible of death, unless indeed,' she added, ' it be on the field of battle ; ind there, I am sure, it cannot be painful.'
' Not on the field of battle ? ' asked Lothair, inducing her to proceed.
* Well, I should think for all, on the field of battle, there must be a degree of excitement, and of sympathetic ex- citement, scarcely compatible with overwhelming suffering ; but if death wore encountered there for a great cause, I should rather associate it with rapture than pain.'
' But still a good number of persons must die in their beds and bo conscious,' said Lothair.
' It may be, though I should doubt it. The witnesses of
LOTH AIR.
179
b & dcmioe are never impartial. All I have ]oved and t have died npon the Geld of battle; and those who havo snSbred pais have been those whom they have left behind ; and that pain,' abe added with some emotion, ' may perhaps
Ieerve the description of Mr. Phoebns.' Lothair woald not parsao the anbject, and (here was Iber an ftwkv.Tird paase. Theodora herself broke it, and % lighter vein, thongh recurring to the same theme, she id with a ehgiit amUe, * I am scarcely a competent person ■ consult opon tliin subject, for, to ho candid witli yon, I I not myself believe in death. There ia a change, and doabtless a great one, painful it may be, certainly very per- plering, but I have a profonnd conviction of my immortality, and I do not believe that I shall rest in my gi'ave in siecula ssBCnlomm, only to be convinced of it by the last trump.'
' I hope you will not leave this world before 1 do,' nnid Lothair; 'but if that sorrow bo reserved for me, promiae that to me, if only once, you will reappear.'
' I doubt whii-ther the departed have tliat power,' said Theodorfi, ' or else I think my heroes would have revisited 1 lost a father more magniSccnt than Jove, and two ers brifjlitLT llian Apollo, and all of them passionately me, and yet they have not come ; bat I shall see , and perhaps soon. So yon see, my dear Lord,' »rQ briskly, and rising rather suddenly from her ' that for my part I think it beat to arrange all that IDCcrQB one in this world while one inhabits it ; and this A me that I have a httle buHiricss to fiilGl in which o help me,' and she opened a cabinet and took ont a it antique case, and then said, resuming her seat at her Ible, ' Som© one, and anonymously, has made mo a ^ificent proi^ent ; some strings of costly pearls. I am Mtly embarmaaed with them, for I never wear pearls or Bjihing olse, and I never wish to accept presenbi. To ViMli them to an unknown is out of my power, bat it ia
i8o LOTH AIR.
not impossible that I may some day become acqn&iiited with the donor. I wish them to be kept in safety, and therefore not by myself, for my life is subject to too great vicissitudes. I have therefore placed them in this case, which I shall now seal and entrust them to your care, as a friend in whom I have entire confidence. See,' she said, lighting a match, and opening the case, ' here are the pearls, are they not snperb ? and here is a note which will tell yon what to do with them in case of my absence, when yon open the case, which wiU not be for a year from this day. There, it is locked. I have directed it to yon, and I wiU seal it with my father's seal.'
Lothair was about to speak. ' Do not say a word,' she said ; * this seal is a religious ceremony with me.' Sbe was some little time fulfilling it, so that the impression might be deep and clear. She looked at it earnestly while the wax was cooling, and then she said, ' I deliver the custody of this to a friend whom I entirely trust. Adieu !' and she disappeared.
The amazed Lothair glanced at the seal. It was a single word, ' RoHA,' and then, utterly mystified, he returned to town with his own present.
CHAPTER XXXV.
Mr. pH(EBns had just finished a picture which he had painted for the Emperor of Russia. It was to depart im- mediately from England for its northern home, except that his Imperial Majesty had consented that it should be ex- hibited for a brief space to the people of England. This was a condition which Mr. Phoebus had made in the in- terests of art, and as a due liomage alike to his own patriotism and celebrity.
LOTIIAIR. i8i
There waa tu be a privnte inapection of the picture at ihe Btttdto of the artist, and Mr. Phoebus had invited Lotbair to attend it. Oar fiiend had accordiuglj, on the appoinlod day, drireo 6owa to Belmont, and then walked to the reai- denoe of Mr. Phcebus with Colonel Campian and his wife. It waa B Bhort and pretty walk, entirely through the royal park, wliicb the occupiers of Belmont had the traditionary privilege thgs to use.
The residence of Mr. Phcebna was convenient and agree- able, and in situation not unlike that of Belmont, boini;; ^Ivan aud sequestered. He bad himself erected a finb Etndio, and added it to the original building. The flower giarden was bright and curious, and on the lawn was a tent of many colours designed by himReir, and which might Lave suited some splendid field of chivalry. Upon gilt and painted percliea also there were paroquets and macaws.
Lothair on his arrival fonnd many gaests assembled, chiefly on the lawn. Mr Phcebus was highly esteemed, and had distinguished and eminent friends, whose constant courtesies the present occasion allowed him elegantly to acknowledge. There was a polished and grey-headed noblo who waa the lioad of the patrons of art in England, whoso nod of approbation sometimes made the fortune of a young artist, and whose parchase of pieturCH for the nation even the foriotis cognoscenti of the House of Commons dared not questioa. Some of the finest works of Mr. Phoibus were to be found in his gallery ; but Ins Lordship admired Madame Phcebus even more than her husband's works, and Enphrosyne aa much as licr sister. It waa sometimes thought, among their friends, that this young lady hrul only to decide in order to sharo the widowed coronet j but Enphrosyne laughed at everything, even her adorers ; and while her witching mockery only rendered them more, (ascioated, it ofiou prcvcnl«d critical declarations.
1 82 LOTH AIR.
And Lady Beatrice was there, herself au artisti and full of fBsthetical enthnsiasm. Her hands were beautiful, and she passed her life in modelling them. And Gecrops was there, a rich old bachelor, with, it was supposed, the finest collection of modem pictures extant. His theory was, thai a man could not do a wiser thing than invest the whole of his fortune in such securities, and it delighted him to tell his numerous nephews and nieces that he should, in all probability, leave his collection to the nation.
Glorinda, whose palace was always open to genius, and who delighted in the society of men who had discovered planets, excavated prim»val mounds, painted pictures on new principles, or composed inmiortal poems which no human being could either scan or construe, but which she recognised as ' subtle ' and fall of secret melody, came lean- ing on the arm of a celebrated plenipotentiary, and beaming with sympathy on every subject, and with the consciousness of her universal charms.
And the accomplished Sir Francis was there, and several R.A.S of eminence, for Phoebus was a true artist and loved the brotherhood, and always placed them in the post of honour.
No language can describe the fascinating costume of Madame Phcebus and her glittering sister. 'They are habited as sylvans,' the great artist deigned to observe, if any of his guests could not refrain from admiring the dresses which he had himself devised. As for the venerable patron of art in Britain, he smiled when he met the lady of the house, and sighed when he glanced at Euphrosyne ; but the first gave him a beautiful flower, and the other fastened it in his buttonhole. He looked like a victim bedecked by the priestesses of some old fane of Hellenic loveliness, and proud of his impending fistte. What could the Psalmist mean in the immortal passage P Threescore and ten, at the present day, is the period of romantio
I
LOTHA IR. r cmunoured aexs
183
As for our cmunoured aexagen&niiDa, they avenge
rie« of DOT cold-hearted yoath.
boebus was on eminent host. It delighted him to
people pleased, and pleased ander his influence. He
a belief, not witbout foimdation, that everything wk£
better under his roof than under that of any other
1. The hanqnct in the air on the present occasion
Id only be done jnstico to by the courtly ptuntera of
reign of Louis XV. Vanloo, and Watteau, and Lancra
lid have caught tho graceful groups, and the wuU-
iged colours, and the faces, some pretty, some a littlo
ated ; tlie ladies on fantastic cliatrs of wicker-work, gilt
onriously painted ; the gentlemen, reclining on the
bending behind them with watohfnl car«. The
le tables, all diOereiit, the soups in delicate caps tst
Sevrea, tho wines in golden glass of Venice, the ortolans,
the Italian confectionary, the bright bouquets, were worthy
of the soft aud invisible music that resounded from the
pavilion, only varied by the coqaetish scream of some
macaw, jealous amid all this novelty and ezcitement of not
being noticed.
It is asceneof enchantment,' whispered the chief patron British art to Madame Phcobns. 1 alnuys think luncheon in the air rather jolly,' said
' It is perfect romance ! ' munnnred tho chief patron of Bi-itish art to Enphrosyno.
■ Willi a doe admixture of reality,' she said, helping him to an euormoua ti-ulUe, which slie extracted from its nap- kin. ' YoQ know you must eat it with batter.'
Lothair was glad to obBci've that, though in refined cioty, none were present with whom he had any previons sqanintonce, for he hud an instinctive fooling that i( Hugo n hnd been there, or Bertram, or the Duke of Brecon, r any litdics with whom he was familiarly acquainted, hs
1 84 LOTH AIR.
would soarcelj have been able to avail himself of the sociefy of Theodora with the perfect freedom which he now enjoyed. Thej would all have been asking who she was, where she came from, how long Lothair had known her: all those ques- tions, kind and neighbourly, which under such circumstances occur. He was in a distinguished circle, but one different from that in which he lived. He sat next to Theodora, and Mr. Phoebus constantly hovered about them, ever doing something very graceful, or saying something very bright. Then he would whisper a word to the great Clorinda, who flashed intelligence from her celebrated eyes, and then he made a suggestion to the ABsthetical Lady Beatrice, who immediately fell into enthusiasm and eloquence, and took the opportunity of displaying her celebrated hands.
The time had now arrived when they were to repair to the studio and view the picture. A curtain was over it, and then a silken rope across the chamber, and then some chairs. The subject of the picture was Hero and Leander, chosen by the heir of all the Russias himself, during a late visit to England.
* A fascinating subject,' said old Cecrops to Mr. Phoebus, * but not a very original one.'
* The originality of a subject is in its treatment,' was the reply.
The theme, in the present instance, was certainly not conventionally treated. When the curtain was withdrawn, they beheld a figure of life-like size, exhibiting in un- disguised completeness the perfection of the female form, and yet the painter had so skilfully availed himself of the shadowy and mystic hour and of some gauze-like drapery, which veiled without concealing his design, that the chastest eye might gaze on his heroine with impunity. The splendour of her upstretched arms held high the beacon light, which threw a glare upon the sublime anxiety of her countenance, while all the tumult of the Hellespont, the
LOniAtR. IBS
wavca, the scaddin^ sky, tho oppoeite shore revcftlod by n blood-red floHb, were touched by tLe h&ud of a master who never fftiled. The applao&e vas a geuuine verdict, and tlie company a time t>egan to disperse about the house and gardens, email circle remained, and passing the Bilkcn rope, Ajiproached aod narronly scrutinised the picture. Among tliese were Theodora and Lothair, the chief jmtion of Iritisb art, an R.A. or two, Clorinda, and lady Beatrice. Mr. Pho-'buB, who left tlie atndio but !<iul now returned, not disturb them. After awhile he apfn-oached the p. Hia air was elate, and was redeemed only from arrogance by the intellect of his brow. Tbe circle started s little as they Iicard liis voice, for they bad been unaware c»f bis presence.
To-morrow,' he stud, ' the ontics will oommence. Yon >w who the critics ai-e ? The men who have failed in
CHAPTEK XXXVI.
The lodge-gute of Belmont was opening as Tjothair one
morning approached it; a Hansom cub came forth, and in
it was a person whoso countenance was strongly marked
on t}io memory of Lothair. It was that of his unknown
— iriend at the fc'cnian meeting, Lothair instantly recognised
U)d cordially saluted him, and his greeting, though hur-
', was not ungraciously returned ; but the vehicle did
Pilot stop. Lothair called to the driver to halt, but tlie
driver on tlie contrary stimulated Lis steed, and in the
winding bine was soon out of sight,
J Tlieodora was not immediately visible. She was neither
^^Bili bcr usual apartment nor in her garden ; but it was only
186 LOTH AIR.
perhaps because Lothair was so full of his own impreflskmfi from his recent encocmter at the lodge, that he did not observe that the demeanour of Mrs. Campian when she appeared was hardlj marked by her habitual serenity. She entered the room hurriedlj, and spoke with quickness.
'Praj,' exclaimed Lothair, rather eagerly, 'do tell ma the name of the gentleman who has just called here.'
Theodora changed colour, looked distressed, and was silent ; unobserved however by Lothair, who, absorbed by his own highly excited curiosity, proceeded to explain why he presumed to press for the information. ' I am under great obligations to that person ; I am not sure I may not say I owe him my life, but certainly an extrication from great danger and very embarrassing danger too. I never saw him but once, and he would not give me his name, and scarcely would ac.'cept my thanks. I wanted to stop hie cab to-day, but it was impossible. He literally galloped off.'
* He is a foreigner,' said Mrs. Campian, who had re- covered herself; ' he was a particular friend of my dear father ; and when he visits England, which he does occa- sionally, he calls to see us.'
' Ah ! ' said Lothair, * I hope I shall soon have an op> portunity of expressing to him my gratitude.'
' It was so like him not to give his name and to shrink from thanks,' said Mrs. Campian. ' He never enters society, and makes no acquaintances.'
' I am sorry for that,' said Lothair, * foi it is not only that he served me, but I was much taken with him, and felt that he was a person I should like to cultivate.'
* Tes, Captain Bruges is a remarkable man,' said Theo- dora ; * he is not one to be forgotten.'
' Captain Bruges. That then is his name ?' ' He is known by the name of Captain Bruges,' said Theodora, and she hesitated ; and then speaking more
LOTH AIR.
187
quickl; eho added, *1 cannot sanction, I camiot bear, any dcneptioa between yon and tliia roof. Bruges is not hia nai name, nor is the title he aBsuiues lijs real raiik. He is not to be known, and not to be spoken of. Ue ia one, and one of tlio most emiuenl, of t)ic great family of sufforerB in this world, bat sufferers for a divine cause. I mysolf have beiin direly stricken in tliia stmggle. When I remember tlie de[iai't«d, it is not always easy to boar tbe thought. I ke«p it at the bottom of my heart; but this visit to-duy him too terribly revived everything. It ia well thiit you ouly ore here to witness my suffering, but you will not have to witueea it again, for we will never again speak of these matters.'
Lotbair was mnch touched : his good Iteart and his good taat« alike dissuaded him &om attempting commonplace eoDSoIaUon. He ventured to take her hand and pressed it to Ilia lipa. ' Dear lady ! ' he murmured, and he led her to a seat. * I fear my foolish tattle has added to pain which I would gladly bear for yon.'
They talked about nothings; about a now horse which Colouel Caropian had just purchased, and which he wanted to show to Lothair ; an old opera revived, but which sounded ntther flat ; something amusing that somebody had said, and Bomutliing absurd which somebody had done. And then, when the ruffled feeling had been quite composed, and all had been brought back to tbe tenor of their uanal ptun* aant life, lrf>(!iairBaid sadUonly and iiither gaily, 'And now, dearmt lady, 1 have a favour tu luik. You know my majority ia to be achieved and to be celebrated next month. I hope that yooraelf and Colonel Campian will honour ma by being my gnoata.'
Theodora did not at all look like a lady who had received a social attention of tlie moat distinguished class. She looked embarrassed, and began to murmur aomothing about Colonel Campiau, and their never gouig into society.
i88 LOTH AIR.
^Colonel Campian is going to Scotland, and yon are going with him,* said Lothair. * I know it, for he told me so, and said he could manage the visit to me, if yon ap- proved it, quite well. In fact it will fit in with his Scotch visit.*
* There was some talk once abont Scotland,' said Theo> dora, ' but that was a long time ago. Many things have happened since then. I do not think the Scotch visit is by any means so settled as you think.'
' But however that may be decided,' said Lothair, ' thefc can be no reason why yon should not come to me.'
' It is presumptuous in me, a foreigner, to speak of such matters,' said Theodora ; ' but I flEmcy that, in such cele- brations as you contemplate, there is, or there should be, some qualification of blood or fieunily connection for be- coming your gues*is. We should be there quite strangers, and in everybody's way, checking the local and domestic ahand(yii which I should suppose is one of the charms of such meetings.'
* I have few relations and scarcely a connection,' said Lothair, rather moodily. ' I can only ask friends to cele- brate my majority, and there are no friends whom I so much regard as those who live at Belmont.'
' It is very kind of you to say that, and to feel it ; and j know that you would not say it if you did not feel it,' replied Theodora. ' But still, I think it would be better that we should come to see you at a time when you are less en- gaged ; perhaps you will take Colonel Campian down some day and give him some shooting.'
* All I can say is tliat, if you do not come, it will be the darkest, instead of the brigh^ st, week in my life,' said, Lothair. ' lu short, I feel I could not get through the business, I should be so mortified. I cannot restrain my feelings or arrange my countenance. Unless you come, the whole affair will be a complete fieulure, and worse than a failure.'
r
LOTHAIR. 189
* Well, I will Bpeuk to Colonel Carapion abont it,' said Theodora, bat with little aDimntion.
' We will both Bpeiik to Lim about it now,' said Lothair, for the Colonel at that moment entered the roora and greeted Lothair, as was his custom, cordially.
'We are settling the visit to Muriel,' said Lothair; 'I want to ir.duce Mrs. Campinn to cume down a day or two before the rest, so tlmt we may have the benetit uf her cotmscl.'
CHAPTER XXXVTI.
k
McRtBL ToivEKs crowned a wooded steep, part of a wild and winJtDg and BylvRn valley at the bottom of which mshed a foaming gtrewn. On the oilier aide of the castle the Kcenc, thongli extensive, was not less striking, and was cdsenttally romantic. A vast park spread in all directiona beyond Iho limit of the eye, and with mneh variety of character, ornate near the mansion, and choicely timbered j in other parts glens and spreailing della, ma-sses of bia«k pines and savage woods ; everywhero, BomctimeB glittering and sometimes sullen, glimpses of the largest natnral lake that inland England boasts, UuRTEL Mgrb, and in the extreme distance moora, and the first creat of monntains. The park, too, was fiill of life, for there were not only herds of red and fallow deer, but, in it« more secret hanntfl, wandered a rate of wild cattle, extremely savage, whit« Knd dove- coloured, and said to be of tho time of the Romans,
It wtiA not without emotion that Lothair beheld tho chief rent of his race. It was not the first time he had visited it. He had a clear and painful recollection of a hrieC hnrried, tudtind glimpse eanght of it in his very earliest boyhood.
IQO
LOTH AIR.
His ancle had taken him there by some inconvenient railroad, to avail themselves of which they had risen in the dark on a March morning, and in an east wind. When they arrived at their station they had hired an open fly drawn by a single horse, and when they had thus at last reached the uninhabited Towers, they entered by the offices, where Lothair was placed in the steward's room, by a smoky fire, given something to eat, and told that he might walk about and amuse himself, provided he did not go out of sight of the castle, while his uncle and the steward mounted their horses and rode over the estate; leaving Lothair for hours without companions, and returning just in time, in a shivering twUight, to clutch him up, as it wore, by the nape of the neck, twist him back again into the one-horse fly, and regain the railroad ; his uncle praising himself the whole time for the satisfactory and business- like manner in which he had planned and completed the expedition.
What a contrast to present circumstances! Although Lothair had wished, and thought he had secured, that his arrival at Muriel should be quite private and even un- known, and that all ceremonies and celebrations should be postponed for a few days, during which he hoped to become a little more familiar with his home, the secret could not be kept, and the county would not tolerate this reserve. He was met at the station by five hundred horsemen all well mounted, and some of them gentlemen of high degree, who insisted upon accompanying him to his gates. His carriage passed under triumphal arches, and choirs of enthusiastic children, waving parochial banners, hymned his auspicious approach.
At the park-gates his cavalcade quitted him with that delicacy of feeling which always distinguishes Englishmen, however rough their habit. As their attendance was self- invited, they would not intrude upon his home.
LOTHAIR. iqi
' VoBT Lordship will have enongh to do to-day without being troobled with ns,' said their leader as he shoelc Lands with Lothair.
But Lothair would not part with thetn thus. With the inspiring recollection of hia speech at the Feoian meeting, Lotliair was not afraid of rising in his barouche and addressing thenu What he said waa said very well, and it wan addressed to a people who, thongh the Tihyent in the world, have a passion for puhliu speaking, than which no achievement more testa reserve. It was something to bo a great peer and a great propriotor, and to be young aisd singularly well-favoured ; but to be able to make a Hpeecii, and Bnch a good one, such cordial words in so strong and moaical a voice : all felt at once they were in the presenoo of the natural leatler of the county. The enthusiiuim of the hunting-field burst forth. They gave him throe ringing cheers, and jostled their horeca forward that they might grasp hia hand.
The park-gnlen were open, and the postih'ons dashed alung through scenes of loveliness on whieh Lothair would (ain have lingered, but he consoled himself with the recol. loctioD that ho should probably have an opportunity ut Hioiug them again. Bometimea his carriage aeomed in the hoart of an ancient forest ; sometimes the deer, slorttcdat hia approach, were scudding over expanding lawns; then his course wound by the margin of a Binoiua lake with green inlands atsd golden gondolas; and then, aft«r adi'ancing through alftluly avenues, he nrriveil nt mighly giifes of wondrous workmanship, that onoe had been the hojistof* celcbratwl convent ou the Danube, but which, in the days of revolutions, had rwiched England, and had been obtained by the grandfathor of Lothair to guard the choice domosue that w»a tho vicinage oF hia oaatle.
Wlieii we roniombcr (hat Lothair, notwithstAnding liis mnk and viiat wealth, hod ntiver, IVom tho nature of thingi^
192 LOTH AIR.
been tbe master of an establislimenfc, it mnst be admittod that the present occasion was a little trying for his nervaa The whole hoosehold of the Towers wero arrayed and arranged in groups on the steps of the chief entranoei The steward of the estate, who had been one of the cavalcade, had galloped on before, and he was of conrse the leading spirit, and extended his arm to his Lord as Lothair descended from his carriage. The honse-steward, the chief butler, the head-gardener, the chief of the kitchen, the head-keeper, the head-forester, and grooms of the stad and of the chambers, formed one gronp behind the housekeeper, a grave and distinguished-looking female, who curtseyed like the old court; half a dozen powdered gentlemen, glowing in crimson liveries, indicated the presence of my Lord's footmen; while the rest of the household, con- siderable in numbers, were arranged in two groups, accord- ing to their sex, and at a respectful distance.
Wliat struck Lothair (who was always thinking, and who had no inconsiderable fund of humour in his sweet and innocent nature) was the wonderful circumstance that, after so long an interval of neglect and abeyance, he should find himself the master of so complete and consummate a household.
* Castles and parks,' he thought, * I had a right to count on, and, perhaps, even pictures, but how I came to possess snch a work of art as my groom of the chambers, who seems as respectfully haughty and as calmly graceful as if he were at Brentham itself, and whose coat must have been made in Saville flow, quite bewilders me.*
But Lothair, though he appreciated Putney Giles, had not yet formed a full conception of the resource and all accomplished providence of that wondrous man, acting under the inspiration of the consummate Apollonia.
Passing through the entrance hall, a lofty chamber though otherwise of moderate dimensions Lothair waa
LOTHAIR.
"93
oshered into bis annanry, a gnllcry two Imndrcd feet long, with snita of complete ideu] mngoii on eaeh side, and the walls othcrwiae covered with rare and curious weapons. It was impossible, eren for the muster of this collection, to snppress the deUght and the surprise with which he beheld the Bceoe. Wo mnat remember, in his eicnse, that ho beheld it for the first time.
The armoniy led to a large and lofly octagonal chamber, highly douorated, in the centre of wliich was the tomb of Lothair's grandfather. He had raised it in hia lifetime. Tbv tomb was of alabaster sarronuded by a railing of pare gold, and crowned with a reonmbent figure of the dccemied in hia coronet; a fanciful man, who lived in Bolitnde, bailding castles and making gardens.
What charmed Lothair most oa he proceeded wore the nnmber of courts and qaadrangles in the castle, all of bright and iactastic architecture, and each of which waa a garden, glowing with brilliant coloars, and guy with the Toioo of fonntains or the forms of gorgeous birds. Our young frieod did not soon weary in hia progress; even the suggmtions of the eUiward, that his Lordship's luncheon was at command, did not restraiD him. Ball-rooms, and baronial boils, and long libraries with curiously stained windows, and suites of dazzling saloons where be beheld the onginal portraits of his parents of which he had miniaf tares j he saw thorn all, and was pleased and interested. _Bnt what most struck and even astonished him was the itablo air which pervaded tlio whole of this enormous ictnre ; too rare even when families habitually reside in dwethngs ; but abnost inconceivahle, when it was to remembered that more than a generation had passed without a human being living in these splendid chambers, aoarccly a human word being spoken in them. Tliere was rcfincmoDt of modem furniture that was wanting,*
But
^b»t
194 LOTH AIR.
eTen the tablos were ODvered with the choicest pablicatiooB of the day.
' Mr. Patney Giles proposes to arrive here to-moROW,* said the steward. * He thought your Lordship would like to be a day or two alone.'
' Ho is the most sensible man I know/ said Lothair ; * lie always does the right thing. I think I will haye n^ luncheon now, Mr. Harvey, and I will go over the oellan to-morrow.*
CHAPTER XXXVra.
7es ; Lothair wished to be alone. He had naturally a love of solitude, but the events of the last few hours lent an additional inducement to meditation. He was impressed in a manner and degree not before experienced with the greatness of liis inheritance. His worldly position, until to-day, had been an abstraction. After all he had only been one of a crowd, which he resembled. But the sight 3f this proud and abounding territory, and the unexpected encounter with his neighbours, brought to him a sense of power and of responsibility. He shrank from neither. The world seemed opening to him with all its delights, and with him duty was one. He was also sensible of the beau- tiful, and the surrounding forms of nature and art charmed him. Let us not forget that extreme youth and perfect health were ingredients not wanting in the spell any more than power or wealth. Was it then complete ? Not without the influence of woman.
To that gentle yet mystical sway the spirit of Lothair had yielded. What was the precise character of his feel- inga to Theodora, what were his hopes or views, he had bitherto had neither the time nor the inclination to make
LOTH AIR.
'95
Tbe present was so deltgbtfal, vxd the enjojr- mt of ber socielj tad been ao oonsunt and complete, . ho bad ever driveii the future fi^m bis coiuiiden- Had tbe conduol of Theodora been different, had ebe ^ed to practise od his affections, appealed to hia seo- sibility, atimolated or piqaed his ranity, it might have b«en otherwise. In tbe distraction of bis heftrt, or tbe distnrbanue of bia temper, he might bave arrived at con- clasions, and even expressed tbem, incompatible with tbe exquisite and even snblime friendship, which bad so strangely and beautifully arisen, like a palace in a dream, and absorbed bis being. Although their acquaintance Conld hardly be nnmbcred by months, there was no bving persor of whom he liad seen bo much, or to whom he had opened his beaj't and mind with ancb profase ingennons- ness. Nor on her part, though apparently Hhrinldng &om egotiBm, bad there ever been any intellectna] reserve. On tbe contrary, although never antboritative, and even when toaching on her convictions, suggesting rather than dictating them, Ijotbair conld not but feel that during the happy period he had passed in her society, not only bis taste bad rcSncd bat his mind bad considerably opened ; his views had become larger, his sympathies had expanded; be ooneidered with obarity things and even persons &om vrbom a year ago he would bave recoiled with alarm or •version.
The time during which Theodora had been bis com- panion was tbe happiest period of his life. It was more than thai ; he conld conceive no felicity greater, and all Ihat he desired was that it should endure. Since they first met, scarcely four and twenty hours had passed with- oui his being in her presence ; and now, notwithstanding tbe novelty end the variety of the objects around him, and ■ the vast, and nrgeut, and personal interest which tbey in- Dlred, he felt a want which meeting her, or the daily
196 LOTHAIR.
prospect of meeting her, conld alone supply. Her voioe lingered in his ear ; he gazed npon a conntenance invisible to others ; and he scarcely saw or did anything withoat almost unconsciously associating with it her opinion or approbation.
Well, then, the spell was complete. The fitfulness or melancholy which so often are the doom of youth, how- ever otherwise favoured, who do not love, were not the condition, capricious or desponding, of Lothair. In him combined all the accidents and feelings whioh enchant existence.
He had been rambling in the solitudes of his park, and had thrown himself on the green shadow of a stately tree, his cheek resting on his arm, and lost in reverie amid the deep and sultry silence. Wealthy and young, noble and full of noble thoughts, with the inspiration of health, sur- rounded by the beautiful, and his heart softened by feel- ings as exquisite, Lothair, nevertheless, could not refrain from pondering over the mystery of that life which seemed destined to bring to hiyi only delight.
* Life would be perfect,' he at length exclaimed, * if it would only last.' But it will not hkst ; and what then P He could not reconcile interest in this life with the convic- tion of another, and an eternal one. It seemed to him that, with such a conviction, man could have only one thought and one occupation, the future, and preparation for it. With such a conviction, what they called reality appeared to him more vain and nebulous than the scenes and sights of sleep. And he had that conviction ; at least he had it once. Had he it now ? Yes ; he had it now, but modified perhaps ; in detail. He was not so confident as he was a few months ago, that he could be ushered by a Jesuit from his deathbed to the society of St. Michael and all Hiq Angels. There might be long processes of initiation, in- termediate states of higher probation and refinement
LOTH AIR.
197
rbere miglit be a liorrible and apathetic panse. Wbeii f ogve appeared to be necesaaiy to matare the cmst of a rather insigniticant planet, it might be presump- tion ia man to aasnme that his soul, thongh immortal, waa to reach its final destination, rej^.irdlogs of all the inSnenues ^— of space and time.
^K And the philoBophera and diatingniahed men of science ^^Mth whom of late he had fi'equeutlj enjoyed the oppor- ^Uonity of becoming acquainted, what were their views P They ditlered among them^elvea : did any of them agree irith him ? How they acconnted for everythbig except the colj point on which man requires revelation ! Chance, esaity, atomic theoriea, nebniar hypotheses, de»elop- Knt, evolution, the origin of worlds, human ancestry ; ) high topics on none of which was there lack f argament; and, in a certain sense, of evidence; and t then ? There must be design. The reasoning and ) research of all philoaophy could not he valid i^ainst lat COnvictioQ. If there were no design, why, it would bo nonsense ; and he could not believe in nouHensc. bnd if there wore design, there must be intelligence ; and jt intelligence, pure intelligence ; and pure intelligence was wasistent wilh any disposition but perfect good. But L the all-wise and the alUbenevoleut and man, wrding to the now philoBophers, no relations were to bo r longer acknowledged. They renounce in despair the isifaility of bringing man into connexion with that First which they can neither explain nor deny. But 1 reqaires that there shall be direct relations between I created and the Creator ; and that in those relations t should find a solution of the perplexities of exiatencQ. The bmin that teems with iiiimitablo thought will never ncogntse as his creator any power of nature, however irresistible, that ia not gifted with consciousness. Atheism Uy lie copsistent with fiuo taste, and fine taste under
Etr lai
nrtain oonditioDB maj for « tune r^oIaW a |M)lished BOcie^ ; bat elbJce with atheism are impossible ; and vnth- out ethics do hamaii order can bo stroog or permanent.
The Church comes forward, and, without eqni vocation, oBers to establish direct relations between Ood and man. PhUoBophy denies its title, and disputes ita power. Why ? Because they are fnondad on the snpematDral. What is the snperDatnral f Can there bo anything mora nurocnloaa than the existence of man and the world ? anything more literally eupematoral than the origin of things ? The Church explains what no one else pretends to ezpliun, and which, everyone agrees, it ia of first moment should be made clear.
The clouds of a summer eve were glowing in Uie creative and flickering hlnze of the vanished snn, that had p&sscxi like a monarch from the admiring sight, yet left his pomp behind. The golden and umber vapours fell into fonns that to the eye of the musing Loth^ depicted the objecta of his frequent meditation. There seemed to rise in the horizon the dome and campaniles and lofty aisles of some celestial fane, such as he had often more than dreamed of raising to the revealed author of hfe and death. Altars arose and saored slirioea, and delicate chantries and fretted Bpii«s ; now the Bashing phantom of heavenly choirs, aiid then the dim response of cowled and earthly ceaobitce :
Thna us black Vopei's pogauita I
CHAPTER XXXIX.
a quilfl glad to see Mr. Putney Giiea. That gentlenmn iadcMl was na aniverenl favourite. Ue waa in- telligent, aeqaainted with everything oscept theology and nietnphjsica, lihed to oblige, ft little to putixinisc. never made difScnltins, and nlways ovorcumie them. Hia bright bine eye, open forehead, and sunny face indicated a man fall of resource, and with a temper of naturn,! Hwcetnosa.
The lawyer and his noble client bad a groat deal of
business to transact. Lothair was to know bia position in
I ddail preparatory to releasing his guardians from their
^■fBiponsibilitios, and assuming the manngoment of bis own
^■ftjrs. Mr. Putney Giles was a first-rate man of businesa.
^^P^th all hia pleiLsant, easy manner lie was precise and
^^Itethodical, and was not content that hia client should be
bta master of hia own aS'iura th&n hia lawyer. The rnoni-
itga passed over a table covered vrith despatch-boxes and
piles of ticketed and banded papers, and then they looked
after the workmen wlio were preparing for the impending
festivals;, or rode over the eatjilo.
* That is onr weak point,' said Mr. Putney Giles, point- ing to a distant part of the valley. ' We ought to have both sidea of the valley. Ynur Lordahip will have to con- sider whether yott can devote the 200,0002. of the second and extinct trust to a better purpose than in obtaining that estate,'
Lothair had always destined that particular sum for the
ciLthedral, the raiaing of which was to have been the first
achievement of his majority ; but he did not reply.
I In a few diiys the guetita began to arrive, but gradually.
pTbo Duke and Duchess anil Lady Corisande came the first,
^Ttio
I
I
20O LOTH AIR.
and were one day alone with Lothair, for Mr. Patney Qiles had departed to fetch ApoUonia.
Lothair was nnaffectedly gratified at not only receiving hill Mends at his own castle, hut nnder these circumstances of intimacy. They had heen the first persons who had been kind to him, and he really loved the whole &mily. They arrived rather late, but he would show them to ih&r rooms, and they were choice ones, himself, and then they dined together in the small green dining-room. Nothing could be more graceful or more cordial than the whob afiair. The Duchess seemed to beam with affectionato pleasure as Lothair fulfilled his duties as their host ; tie Duke praised the claret, and he seldom praised anything ; while Lady Gorisande only regp^tted that the impendiig twilight had prevented her from seeing the beautiful coxoi- try, and expressed lively interest in the morrow's inspic- tion of the castle and domain. Sometimes her eyes ncet those of Lothair, and she was so happy that she unccn- sciously smiled.
' And to-morrow,' said Lothair, * I am delighted to saf , we shall have to ourselves ; at least all the morning. We will see the castle first, and then, after luncheon, we wii drive about everywhere.'
* Everywhere,' said Gorisande.
' It was very nice your asking us first, and alone,' said the Duchess.
'It was very nice you coming, dear Duchess,' said Lothair, ' and most kind, as you ever are to me.'
' Duke of Brecon is coming to you on Thursday,' said the Duke ; ' he told me so at White's.'
* Perhaps you would like to know. Duchess, whom you are going to meet,' said Lothair.
' I should much like to hear. Pray tell us.' ' It is a rather formidable array,* said Lothair, and he took out a paper. ' First, there are all the notables of the
E
inntf. 1 do not know any of them peraonally, so 1 roto (o each of them a letter, as well aa sending them a formnl inrilation. I tbonght that was riffht.'
■Quite right,' said the Dacheas. 'Nothing could be
' Well, the tirst person, of conrse, is the Lord LieutenanL llo is coming.'
By the bye, let me see, who is yonr lord lieutenant ? ' id the Duke. Lord A gram on t.' To be Bnro. I was at college with him, a very good
, escept once at aw a man so red and grey, and I xl-looking fellow 1 Ho mnat have wmntry, and never thonght of his a a tone o^ pity, and playing with
; bnt I have t Boodle's; and I never f remember him such a go lived immensely in tho i person,' eaid the Duke 1 his monstache.
' Is there a Lady Agramont ? ' enquired tho Dachess. ' Oh yes ! and she also hononra me with her jiroEonce,' nid Lothair.
' And who was Lady Agramont ? '
' Oh I his consin,' said the Dnlto, 'The Agramonta always marry their coasina. His father did the same thing. They are so shy. It is a family that never was in society and never will be. I was at Agramont Castle onca when I was at college, and I never siiall forget it. We nsed to sit down forty or Bfty every day to dinner, entirely kiden snnts and clergymen, and that sort of thing. How- •, I ahall be truly glad to see Agramont again, for, not- hthatanding all these disadvantages, he ia a Ihoraoghly a fellow.' 'Then there is the High Sheriff,' continned Lothair j 'and both the county members and tneir wives; and Mrs. ^lligh Sheriff too. I believe thei-o is some tremendous ^EraestioQ roepectiug the precedency of this lady. There is
Km. I Hhthat<
P^DOdfl
203 LOTH AIR.
DO doubt that, ia tlio connty, the High Sheiiff pi'ecedence of everyone, even of the Lord Licalciuuit how about his wifo ? Porhaps your Qraoe could aiil me ? Hr. Putney Giles said be would wriUs ubunt it to Homlda- College.'
* I ehonld gi\e hor the benefit of any donbt,' Bkid Dachesa.
' And then onr Bishop is ooming,' said Lotbur.
' Oh I I am ao glad yon bavo asked the Bishop,' i Ludy Corisande.
' There could bo no doubt about it,' said Lothair. ' I do not know bow his Lordship will got on with one of my gnnrdiaos, the Cardinal ; but bis Eminence is nob hero in a priestly character ; and, as fur that, there is less chance o( hb differing with the Cardinal than with my other guardian. Lord Culloden, who ia a member of the Free Kirk.'
' Is Lord Culloden coming ? ' said the Dncbess.
'Yes, and with two danghtors, Flora and Grixell. I remember my cousins, good-natured little girls, bub Sir. Pntney Giles tells me that the shortest is six foct high,"
' I tbiuk we shall have a very amusing party,' said the DucbesH.
' You know all the others,' said Lothair. ' No, by tlie bye, there is the Dean of my college coming, and aignore Catesby, a great friend of tlie St. Jeromes.'
Lady Corisande looked grave.
'The St. Jeromes will be here to-morrow,' oontini Lothair, ■ and the Montairys and the St. Aldegondea, I have half un idea that Bertram and Carisbrooko and Hugo Bohun will l>o hero to-night; Duke of Brecon on Thursday. And that, I think, is all, except an American lady and gentleman, whom I think you will like ; great fiiends ai mine : I knew tliera this year at Oifoivl, aorl thoy wotv very kind to me. He is a man of considerable furtnnc ; iboy bave lived at Paris a good deal.'
^ .i^
mutJSM
I
LOTH AIR. 303
1 have known Americana mho lived at Paris,' Raid tlie Teiy Kood sort of people, and do cud of muiiej aome of them.'
' 1 believe Colonel Campian has largo cetatos in the South,' said Lothair ; ' but, though really I have no right to speak of his aflairs, ho mnst have Bofferod very mnch.'
* Well, be has the conBolation of eoUering in a good cause,' said the Duke. ' I shall be happy to make hia acquaintance. I look upon an American gentleman with large estates in the Soath a-s a real ariBtocrnt; and whether he gets hia rents, or whatever hia retnma may hv, or not, I should always treat him with respect.'
■ I have beard the American women aro very pretty,' said Lady Corisande.
'Mrs. Campian ia very diatingniahed,' said Lothair; * but I think she was an Italian.*
'Tliey promise to bo an interesting addition to oal
[,' aaid the Daclieas, and aho rose. S never was anything bo Buccessfiil as tlie armnge- monta of tbe nert day. After breakfast they inspected the caatle, and in tbe easiest manner, without form and without harry, reating occasionally in a gallery or a saloon, never examining a cabinet, and only looking at a picture now and then. Generally speaking, nothing ia more fatiguing ttian the survey of a great house, but this enterprise was conducted vrith so mnch tact and consideration, and much which they had to see waa ao beautiful and novel, that (tvoryone waa interested, and n'miuiied quite fresh for ' subsequent exertionn, ' And then the Duke is ao nob amneed,' said tbe Daclii;tss to her daughter, delighted
CHAPTER XL.
204 LOTH AIR.
at the Qnnfioal excitement of the handsome, but aomewlut too serene, partner of her life.
After luncheon they visited the gardens, which had been formed in a sylvan valley enclosed with gilded gates. The creator of this paradise had been fieiyoared by nature, and had availed himself of this opportanity. The contrast between the parterres blazing with colonr and the sylvan backgronnd, the nndnlating paths oyer romantic heights, the &nes and the fountains, the glittering statues, and the Babylonian terraces, formed a whole much of which was beautiful, and all of which was striking and singular.
' Perhaps too many temples,' said Lothair, ' but this an- cestor of mine had some imagination.'
A carriage met them on the other side of the valley, and then they soon entered the park.
* I am almost as much a stranger here as yourself, dear Duchess,' said Lothair ; ' but I have seen some parts which I think will please you.' And they commenced a drive of varying, but unceasing, beauty.
' I hope I shall see the wild cattle,* said Lady Corisando.
Lady Corisande saw the wild cattle, and many other things which gratified and charmed her. It was a long drive, even of hours, and yet no one was for a moment wearied.
' What a delightful day ! ' Lady Corisande exclaimed in her mother's dressing-room. ' I have never seen any place so beautiful.'
* I agree with you,' said the Duchess; * but what pleases me most are his manners. They were always kind and natural, but they are so polished, so exactly what they ought to be ; and he always says the right thing. I nerer knew anyone who had so matured.'
' Yes ; it is very little more than a year since he camo to us at Brentham,' said Lady Corisande thoughtMly. ' Certainly he has greatly changed. I remember he could hardly open bis lips ; and now I think him very agreeable.'
LOTH AIR.
M5
' He is mora thoc tliat,' said tbe Duchess, ' he is iii- tcrestiiig.'
* Tea,* said Lady Corisande ; ' he la intereating.'
' Whiil delights me,' said the Dacheas, ' is to sec Hs en- joyment of hia position. He seems to take such an interest it) everything. It makca me happj to see him bo happy.*
' Well, I hardly know,' said Lady Corisande, ' aboat that. There ia something occasioiia,Ily aboat his expression which I should hardly deaoribe as indicative of happiness or content. It would be nngnitefnl to describe one as JutTwil, who seems to watch all one's wants, and hangs on every word ; and yet, especially a« we retumod, and when we were all of us a little silent, thei-e was a remarkable abstrac- tion about him ; I caught it once or twice before, earlier in the day ; his mind seemed in another plitce, and anziooaly.'
' He has a great deal to think of,' said the Duchess.
*I fear it is that dreadful Monsignore Cateaby,' siud
sdy Corisande with a sigh.
CHAPTER XLI.
IE arrival of the guests wot arranged with judgment le personal friends came first ; the formal visitors were only for the day before the public ceremonies corn- iced. No moro diunen. in small green dining-rooms. le the Dacbess was di'essing. Bertha St. Aldegondeand Monlniry, who had just arrived, came in to give her Kipid embrace while their own toilettes were nnpacking. * Granville has come, mamma ; I did not think that he woald till the last moment. Ue said he was so aTmid of Iwing bored. There is a large pai'ty by this train ; the St. ^cmnics, Dortram, ilr, Boliun^ Lord Cansbrooke, and some do not itnow.'
E
2o6 LOTH AIR.
The Cardinal had been expected to-day, but be bad tde- ^rapbed tbat bis arrival must be postponed in oonaeqnenoe of bnsiness until the morrow, wbicb day bad been pro- yiouslj fixed for tbe arrival of bis fellow g^uardian and trustee, tiie Earl of Culloden, and liis daugbters, tbe Ladies Flora and Grizell Falkirk. Mon&tgnore Gatesbj bad, bow- ever, arrived hj tbis train, and tbe persons ' wbom they did not know,' tbe Gampians.
Lotbair waited on Colonel Campian immediately and welcomed bim, but be did not see Tbeodora. Still be bad enquired after ber, and left ber a message, and boped tbat sbe would take some tea ; and thus, as be flattered himself, broken a little tbe strangeness of their meeting under bis roof; but, notwithstanding all this, when sbe really entered the drawing-room be was seized with such a palpitation of the heart that for a moment be thought be should be un- equal to the situation. But the serenity of Theodora re- assured him. The Campians came in late, and all eye? were upon them. Lotbair presented Theodora to tbe Duchess, who being prepared for the occasion, said exactly the right thing in the best manner, and invited Mrs. Cam- pian to sit by her, and then Theodora being launched, Lotbair whispered something to the Duke, who nodded, and the Colonel was introduced to bis Grace. The Duke, always polite but generally cold, was more than courteous ; he was cordial ; he seemed to enjoy the opportunity of ex- pressing bis high consideration for a gentleman of the Southern States.
So tbe first step was over ; Lotbair recovered himself; the palpitation subsided ; and tbe world stiU went on. The Campians had made a good start, and tbe favourable impression hourly increased. At dinner Theodora sat be- tween Lord St. Jerome and Bertram, and talked more to tlie middle-aged peer than to the distinguished youth, who would willingly have engrossed her attention. All mothers
LOTH AIR.
e Bucli discretion, eapeciaJlj in b yoxmg and beanttful
sd woman, bo the verdict of tbe evenijig amcmg the
prcat ladies was, th&t Theodora was dlstingaiahed, and tlint
»II she Baid or did was in good taate. On the plea of bor
being a foreigner, she was at once admitted into a. cRrtnin
degrea of sociaJ intimacy. Had she had the misfotlane of
being native-bom and had flirted with Bertriuu, she woold
probably, particularly vcith so much beaaty, have been
looked upon as ' a horrid woman,* and have been relegated
(or amoHciniiiit, during her visit, to tho att«ntiouB of the
dark sex. But, strange to say, tbe Bocial success of Colonel
CwDpian was not less eminent than that of his dis-
tingtUBhed wife. The character which the Duke gave of
him commanded nniversal sympathy. ' Yon know he is a
ntlemau,' said the Duke; 'he is not a Yankee. People
) tbe greatest mistakeit about tbeae things. Ho is a
[entlcnuui of the Soutb ; they have no property bat land ;
. toid hia territory was immense. He always
IJTed at Paris and in tlie bighcst style, diBgust«d of course
with bis own coantry. It is not unlikely bo may have lost
I bia estates now ; but that makes do diBerence to mo. 1
^■duJl treat him and all Soathem gentlemen, as our fathers
^HnMed the emigrant nobility of France.'
^V 'Hugo,' said St. Aldegoade to Ur. Dohun, ' I wish yon
^wonld tell Bertha to come to me. I want }ier. She is
talking to a lot of women at the other end of the room,
and, if 1 go to her, I am afraid they will get hold of mo."
^B The ftitore Duchess, who lived only to humour her lord,
^npas at his side in an instant. ' You wanted mo, Gran-
^B 'Yes; yon know I waa afraid, Bertba, I should be bOTOd here. 1 am not bored. I like this American fellow. Ho anderstatids tho only two aabjecte which interest me; boTMa and tobacco.'
I ehurmeii, Otanville, that you are not bored ; I
^^lake
2o8 LOTH AIR.
told TnitTnTnA. that jon were yerj much afraid you would be.'
* Yes ; but I tell you what, Bertha, I cannot stand any of the ceremonies. I shall go before they begin. Why cannot Lothair be content with receiving his friends in a quiet way P It is all humbug about the county. If he wants to do something for the county, he can build a wing to the infirmary, or something of that sort, and not bore us with speeches and fireworkB. It is a sort of thing I sannot stand.'
And you shall not, dear Granville. The moment yon arc bored, you shall go. Only you are not bored at present.'
' Not at present ; but I expected to be.'
'Yes; so I told mamma; but that makes the present more delightful.'
The St. Jeromes were going to Italy and immediately. Their departure had only been postponed in order that they might be present at the majority of Lothair. Miss Arundel had at length sacceeded in her great object. They were to pass the winter at Rome. Lord St. Jerome was quite pleased at having made the acquaintance at dinner of a Roman lady, who spoke English so perfectly ; and Lady St. Jerome, who in consequence fastened upon Theodora, was getting mto ecstasies, which would have been em- barrassing had not her new acquaintance skilfully checked her.
* We must be satisfied that we both admire Rome,' said Mrs. Campian, ' though we admire it for different reasons. Although a Roman, I am not a Roman Catholic ; and Colonel Campian*s views on Italian affairs generally would, I fear, not entirely agree with Lord St. Jerome's.'
* Naturally,' said Lady St. Jerome gracefully dropping the subject, and remembering that Colonel Campian was a citizen of the United States, which accounted in her appre- hension for his peculiar opinions.
Iiothnir, who had been watching his opportunity ^bfi
LOTH AIR.
209
e erening, approached Theodora. He meaiit to have d his hope that she waa not wearied by her journey, pt instciid 01 that he said, ' Your presence hero inakea B inespTOssibly happy."
' I think everybody acenis happy lo be yonr gneet,' she
replied, parrying, as waa hiir cuBtom, with a slight kind
staHe, and a luw, sweet, onembarrassed voici^, any per-
•Onal allusion &om Lothair of UDOsua) energy or ardour.
^^k * I wanted to meet yon at the station to-day,' he con-
^^Kpued, ' but there were so many people coming, that '
^Ed be hesitated.
^^B * It would really have been n.ore embarrassing to UB ^^BkD to yourself,' she said. ' Nothing could bo better than ^^B the arrangements.'
' I sent niy own brongliam for you,' said Lotli^. ' I hope there was no mistake about it.'
' None : yonr servant gave bb your kind messtige ; and as for the carriage it was too dulightfu]. Colonel Campian was so pleased with it, that he has promised to give me one, with your permission, exactly the same.'
ffish yott would accept the otio you used to-day.'
'You aro too niagaiEcent ; you really must try to for-
with ns, that yoa are the lord of Muriel Towers,
^t I will willingly nso your carriages as much as you
uo, for I caught glimpses of beauty to-day in our pro-
I from tiie station that made me anxious to explore
IF delightful domain.'
|.Tli«Ta waa a slight bnrst of merriment from a diatant
t of the room, aod overyboJy looked around. Colonel
mpiftn had been telling a story to a group formed of the
I, St Aldegonde, and Mr. Boliun. ' Best story I ever bford in my life,' exclaimed St. Icgonde, who prided himself when ho did laugh, which t ran, on laughing load. Hut even the Duke tittered, 1 Uugo Bohun Buiilcd.
2IO LOTHAIR.
' I am glad to see Uie Colonel get on so well with everyone, ' said Lothair ; ' I was afraid be might hare been bored.'
' He does not know wbat tbat means,' said Theodora ; * and he is so natural and so sweet-tempered, and so intel- ligent, that it seems to me be always is popular.'
' Do you think tbat will be a match ? ' said Monsignore Catesby to Miss ArundeL
' Well, I rather believe in the Duke of Brecon,' she replied. They were referring to Lord Carisbrooke who appeared to be devoted to Lady Corisande. ' Do you ad- mire the American lady ? '
' Who is an Italian, they tell me, though she does not look like one. What do you think of her ? ' said the Mon« signore, evading, as was his custom, a direct reply.
* Well, I think she is very distinguished : unusual. 1 ^vonder where our host became acquainted with themP Do you know ? '
* Not yet ; but I dare say Mr. Bohun can tell us ; ' and he eiddressed that gentleman accordingly as he was passing by.
* Not the most remote idea,' said Mr. Bohun. *■ You know the Colonel is not a Yankee ; he is a ts^emendous swell. The Duke says with more land than he has.'
' He seems an agreeable person,' said Miss ArundeL ' Well, ho tells anecdotes ; he has just been telling one , Granville likes anecdotes ; they amuse him, and he likes to he amused : that is all ho cares about. I hate anecdotes, and I always get away when convei'sation falls into what Pinto calls its anecdotage.*
* You do not like to be amused ? '
* Not too much : I like to be interested.'
* Well,* said Miss Arundel, * so long as a person can talk agreeably, I am satisfied. I think to talk well a rare gift ; quite as rare as singing : and yet you expect everyone to be able to talk, and very few to be able to sing.'
LOTH AIR. I people who do d
,' said the
^Tliere are ami
iigDore, 'aud intercating people who do not unnse. '■'•"hat I like ia an agreeable person.'
' Mf idea of an agreeable person,' said Hugo Bohan, ' is a person wbo agrees witb me.'
'Talking of singing, aomcUung is going to happen, said Miss Amniltil.
A note was heard ; a celebrated professor had entered
the room and was eeaCed at tho piano which be had jost
toncbed. Tberu was a general and nnconscious hnsh, and
^tlm coantenance of I.ord St. Aldegonde wore a ruefal ei-
^^■■Bsion. But atfairx tamed ont Iwttcr than could be
^^^piuipated. A yonng and pretty girl, dressed in white
^^^pb a ^gantic sash of dazzling beauty, played upon the
violin with a grace, and sentiment, aitd marvellons akil],
and paasinnata expression, worthy of St. Cecilia, She was
B. Hutigitrian lady, and this was her English debnt. Every-
body praised her, and everybody was pleased ; and Lord
St, Aldegoiide, instead of being bored, took a wondrous
rose out of Ilia buttonhole and presented it to her.
^^■^Tbo performaDco only lasted half an hour, and then the
^^HBes began to think of their bowers. Lady St. Aldegonde,
^^^Bbre she qnitlcd the room, was in eaiTtcst conversation
^^nth her lord.
•I have armngcd all that you wi.*hed, Granville,' she aaid, speaking rapidly and holding a candlestick. 'We are to see the castle to-morrow, and the gardens and the pnrka and everj-thing else, but you are not to be bored at all, and not tii lose yonr shooting. Tlie moors are sixteen miles olT, but onr host says, with an onmihus and a good team (and ho will give you a Grst-rate one), you can do it in an hour and ten miimtes, cei'tainly an hour and a qtiart«r; and yoa are to make your own party in the smoking- room to-night, and Inki' a cfipital luncheoD with
212 LOTH AIR.
* All right : I shall ask the Yankee ; and I should like to take that Hungarian girl too, if she would only fiddle to us at luncheon.'
CHAPTER XLIL
Next day the Cardinal, with his secretary and his chaplain, arrived. Monsignore Catesby received his Eminence at the station, and knelt and kissed his hand as he stepped from the carriage. The Monsignore had wonderfully ma- nccuvred that the whole of the household should have been marshalled to receive this Prince of the Church, and per- haps have performed the same ceremony : no religious recognition, he assured them, in the least degree involved, only an act of not unusual respect to a foreign Prince; but considering that the Bishop of the diocese and his suite were that day expected, to say nothing of the Presbyterian guardian probably arriving by the same train, Lothair would not be persuaded to sanction any ceremony what- ever. Lady St. Jerome and Miss Arundel, however, did their best to compensate for this omission with reverences which a posture master might have envied, and certainly would not have surpassed. They seemed to sink into the earth, and then slowly and supernaturally to emerge. The Bishop had been at college with the Cardinal and intimate with him, though they now met for the first time since his Recession : a not uninteresting rencounter. The Bishop was high-church, and would not himself have made a bad car- dinal, being polished and plausible, well-lettered, yet quite a man of the world. He was fond of society, and justified his taste in this respect by the flatteriug belief that by his presence he was extending the power of the Church ; cer- tainly favouring an ambition which could not be described as being moderate. The Bishop had no abstract prejudice
/
LOTHAIR. 213
fij^nst gentlomen who wore red bats, uid under ordinary cirvtuna lances would liave welcomed his brother churchman vriih unaOectod cordiality, not to say sympathy ; but in the present instance, liowevor pracioua his mica ftod honeyed Iji8 espreawous he only looked njion the Cardinal as a ilangcrous rival, intent apon clutching trma his fold the most prociona of his Hock, anil ho had long looked to tins occasion ils the one which might decide the spiritniU welfare and career of Lotkatr. The odda were not to be dcr^pised. There were two Monsignores in the room bosidca the Cardinal, but the Dinhop was a man of contrivaDco and resolntion, not easily diFibcsrtened or defeated. Nor was he without allies. He dill not count much on the University don, who was to nrrire on the morrow in the shtipe of the head of an Oiford Loose, though he was a don of magnitude. This eminent pcnoimge had already let Lothair elip from his influence. Bat the Bishop bad a subtle counsellor in his chaplain, who wore as good a cassock as any Monsignore, and be brought uHtfa him also a trusty archdeacon in a purple nmt, whoso countenance was qnito entitled to a place in the Acta Sanctorum.
It was amusing to obsorre the elaborate c-onrtesy and than Christian kindness which tlic rival prelates and Kht&T official followers extended to each other. But nndor kll this nnutian on both sides were unceasing obserratioii, and a vigilance that never figged ; and on both sides tliore wtts an uneasy but irresistiblo conviction that they were 00 the eve of one of the decisive battles of the social wor!d. Lord Cnlloden also at length appeared with his dimghtcrs, Lftdiea Fbra and Grizeil. They were quite as tall as Mr. Putney Oilea bad reported, but very pretty, with radiant oomplflxions, sunny bice cjcr, and flaxen lockn. Their dImplM and white shoulders and small feet and hands were niDch admired. Sir. Giles also returned with Apollonia ; and at length also appeared the rival uf Lord Caiibbrookt, his Grace of Brecou
214 LOTH AIR,
Lothair bad passed a bappy morning, for he had oon* trived, withont difficulty, to be the companion of Theodora during the greater part of it. As the Ducbees and Lady Corisande bad abready inspected the castle, they disappeared after breakfast to write letters ; and when the afler-lnncheon expedition took place, Lothair allotted them to the care of Lord Carisbrooke, and himself became the companion of Lady St. Jerome and Theodora.
Notwithstanding all bis efforts in the smoking- room. Si. Aldegonde had only been able to induce Colonel Campian to be his companion in the shooting expedition, and the Colonel fell into the lure only through his carelessness and good-nature. He much doubted the discretion of his de- cision as he listened to Lord St. AIdegonde*s reasons for the expedition in their rapid journey to the moors.
* I do not suppose,' be said, ' we shall have any good sport ; but when you are in Scotland and corno to me, as I hope you will, I will give you something you will like. But it is a great thing to get off seeing the Towers, and the gardens, and all that sort of thing. Nothing bores me so much as going over a man's house. Besides, we get rid of the women.*
The meeting between the two guardians did not promise to be as pleasant as that between the Bishop and the Car- dinal, but the crusty Lord Culloden was scarcely a match for the social dexterity of his Eminence. The Cardinal, crossing the room, with winning ceremony approached and B-ddressed his colleague.
* We can have no more controversies, my Lord, for our reign is over ; * and he extended a delicate hand, which the surprised peer touched with a huge finger.
*Ye8; it all depends on himself now,' replied Lord Cul- loden with a grim smile ; ' and I hope he will not make a fool of himself.'
* What have you got for us to-night ? ' enquired L/othair
LOTH AIR.
2IS
of Mr. GUes, aa the gentlemen roKo from llie dining table.
Mr. Giles saiil he woqM consult Lis wire, but Lotbait observing he would liimsclf undertake that oiEce, when ho entered tbe salnnn addressed Apolloniiu Nothing conld be more Bkilfu] thua the manner in nhtch Mrs. Gilca in tbis party assmned precisely the position which equally btcnnio hpf Bad suited her own views ; at tbe same time tbe some- whut bumble friend, but tbe trusted counsellor, of the Towera, she disarmed envy and conciliated cocsidemtaon. Never obtrusive, yet always prompt and prepared with un- failing resonrco, and gifted apparently with univerdol talents, she soon became the recognised medium by which evcrylliiug was snggosted or arratujed ; and before eight and forty hours Lad passed she was described by Duchesses . uad tbeir dftughlara aa tliat 'dear Mrs. Giles,'
* Monsieur Raphael and his sister came down in ti.e train k iritb US,' said Mrs. Giles to Lothair; ' the rest of the troupe [ivUI not bo bere until to-morrow j but they told me they B^nold give you a perfect proverbs if your Lordship would
; and tbe Spanish conjuror is here; hut I rather ink, from what I gatlier, that the young ladies would like
* I do not much fiiney acting the moment these great tharcLnien have arrived, and with Cardinals and Bishops 1
r would rather not bavo dunces the first night. I almost wish I wo bad kept the Uongarian lady for this evening.'
* Shall 1 send for Ler P she is ready.'
' The repetition would Iw too aoon, and would show a great poverty of resourct-s," said LotLair emiUug; 'what ^we want Is some singing.'
'Uardoni ought to have hpen here to-day,' said Mrs pilee; 'but be never keeps his cn;.'agcmenta.'
' 1 thJnk oar amateur materials are rather rioh,' eaid
2i6 LOTHAIR.
' There is Mrs. Campian,' said ApoUonia in a low voioe. but Lothair shook his head.
' But perhaps if others set her the example,' he added after a pause ; ' Ladj Gorisande is firstrate, and all her siHters sing ; I will go and consult the Dnchess.'
There was soon a stir in the room. Lady St. Aldegonde and her sisters approached the piano at which was seated i.he eminent professor. A note was heard, and there was silence. The execution was exquisite; and indeed there are few things more dainty than the blended voices of three women. No one seemed to appreciate the perform^ ance more than Mrs. Campian, who, greatly attracted by what was taking place, turned a careless ear even to the honeyed sentences of no less a personage than the Lord Bishop.
After an interval Lady Gorisande was handed to the piano by Lothair. She was in fine voice and sang with wonderful effect. Mrs. Campian, who seemed much in- terested, softly rose and stole to the outward circle of tiie group which had gathered round the instrument. When the sounds had ceased, amid the general applause her voice of admiration was heard. The Duchess approached her, evidently prompted by the general wish, and expressed hei hope that Mrs. Campian would now favour them. It was not becoming to refuse when others had contributed so freely to the general entertainment, but Theodora was anxious not to place herself in competition with those who had preceded her. Looking over a volume of music she suggested to Lady Corisande a duet in which the peculiari- ties of their two voices, which in character were quite dif- ferent, one being a soprano and the other a contralto, might be displayed. And very seldom in a private chamber had anything of so high a class been heard. Not a lip moved except those of the singers, so complete was the fascination, till the conclusion elicited a burst of irresistible applause.
I
I
U Bach
^H UHpCC
^H rathe
t
' In imagioatiaTi I aia tliroiriug endlosB boaqoets,' said Hugo Bohun,
' 1 wish vie cotttd hiduuc hor to give uti a recitatioQ froia Atfiori,' said Urs. Piitmiy Giicis in a whisper to Lady St. Aldegondo. ' I heard it once it was the BneHt thing 1 ever liKtcned to,'
' Bat cannot we P ' uikI Ladf St. Aldegondo.
Apollonia ebook her head. ' Sho is extremely reserved. I am quite Burprieed that she mng ; but she oonld not nell rofns© after your Ladyship and yoar aiBtera had been bo
' Bat if the Lord of the Towers aska bcr,' suggested Lady St. Aldegoade.
*No, DO,' said Mra, Giles, 'that wonld not do; nor would be. He knowa she diBhJcea it. A word fVom Colonel Campion and the thing would be settled ; bat it is rather mbsurd to invoke the aatbority of a Iiusband for so light a maltw.'
' I fhonld like bo mnch to hear her,' said I^y St, Alde- gondo. ' I think I will a^k her myself, I will go and speak U> mamma.'
There was mnch whispering and i:onan!ting in the room, bat nnnotiued, a» general conversation had now been re- Bomed. The Duchefia sent for Ixjthair and conferred with him ; bnt Lothair aeomed to shake his head. Then her Grace rose and approached Colonel Campian, whowaatalk- ing to liord Calluden, and tlica the Duchess and Lady St, AldcgoTide went to Mrs, Campian. Then, after a short time, Lady St, Aldogonde rose and fetched Lothair.
' Her Grace tells me,' said Thoodora, 'that Colonel Cam- pian wishes me to give a recitation. I cannot believe that Bucb a performance can ever be generally interesting, UHpccially in a foreign language, and I confess that I would rather not exhibit. But I do not hko to be ohnrlisU when liable and compliant, and the Duchess tells Ule
I
2i8 LOTH AIR.
that it cannot well be postponed, for this ia the last quiet night we shall have. What I want is a screen, and I must be a moment alone, before I venture on these enterprises. I require it to create the ideal presence.'
Lothair and Bertram arranged the screen, the Duchess and Lady St. Aldegonde glided about, and tranqnillj inti- mafced what was going to occur, so that, without effort^ there was in a moment complete silence and general expec- tation. Almost unnoticed Mrs. Campian had disappeared, whispering a word as she passed to the eminent conductor, who was still seated at the piano. The company bad almost unconsciously grouped themselves in the form of a theatre, the gentlemen generally standing behind the ladies who were seated. There were some bars of solemn music, and then to an audience not less nervous than her- self, Theodora came forward as Electra in that beautiful appeal to Clytemnestra, where she veils her mother's guilt even while she intimates her more than terrible suspicion of its existence, and makes one last desperate appeal of pathetic duty in order to save her parent and her fated
house :
0 amata madre,
Clie fai ? Non credo io, no, cbe ardente fiamma
II cor ti avrampi.
The ineffable grace of her action, simple without redun- dancy, her exquisite elocution, her deep yet controlled pas- sion, and the magic of a voice thrilling even in a whisper, this form of Phidias with the genius of Sophocles, entirely enraptured a fastidious audience. When she ceased, there was an outburst of profound and unaffected appreciation ; and Lord St. Aldegonde, who had listened in a sort of ecstasy, rushed forward, with a countenance as serious as the theme, to offer his thanks and express his admiration.
And then they gathered round her, all these charming women and some of these admiring men, as she would have
LOTH AIR.
SI9
I
her seat, and entreated Ijcr once more, onlj once more, to favour them. She cauglit the adoring glance of the Lord of the Towers, and her eyes seemed to onquii'O t?hat she ahontd do. ' There will be majiy strangers bere to-morrow,' said Lothair, ' aod next week all the world. This is a delight only for the initiated,' and he entreated hor to gratify Uiem.
' It eball be Alfieri'a ode to America tUen,' siiid Theo- don, 'if yon please.'
' She is a Roman I believe,' said Lady St. Jerome to Uis Eminence, ' bnt not, alas 1 a child of the Chnrch. Indeed I fear her views generally are advanced,* and she shook berhcBd.
' At present,' said the Cardinal, ' ibis roof and this visit Day influence ber. I should like to see such powers engaged in the caose of God.'
The Csj-dinal was an entire believer in female inflneneo, and a conEidcmhle believer in his influence over femalee; and ha hod good cause for liis coQvietions. The catalogue of his proselytes was numerous and distinguished. He bad not only converted a duchess and several countesses, but he had gathered into his fold a real Mary Magdalen. In tlie height of her beauty and her fame, the most distin- guislied member of the demi-monde had suddenly thrown tip her golden whip ojid jingling reins, and cast herself at the feet of the Cardinal. He had a right, therefore, to be confident; and while bis exquisite tasle and conaummato coltivation rendered it impossible that he should not bavc been dooply gratified by tlie performance of Theodora, he vma really the whole time considering the best means by whicli such charnia and powers could be enlisted in the cause of the Church.
AUcr the ladies had retired, the gentlemen talked for a few minatcB over the interesting occurrence of the opening.
220 LOTH AIR.
' Do jou know/ said tbe Bishop to the Dnke and some Fmronnding auditors, ' fine as was the Eloctra, I preferred the ode to the tragedy. There was a tumult of her brow, especially in the address to Liberty, that was sablime— quite a Moenad look.'
' \Vliat do you think of it, Carry ? ' said St. Aldegonde to Lord Carisbrooke.
' Brecon says she puts him in mind of RistorL'
* She is not in the least like Ristori, or anyone else,' said St. Aldegonde. * I never heard, I never saw anyone like her. I'll tell you what : you must take care what yon say about her in the smoking-room, for her husband wiU be there, and an excellent fellow too. We went together to the moors this morning, and he did not bore me in the least. Only, if I had kno\vn as much about his wife as I do now, I would have stayed at home, and passed my morning with the women.*
CHAPTER XLIIL
St. Aldegonde loved to preside over the mysteries of the smoking-room. There, enveloped in his Egyptian robe, occasionally blurting out some careless or headstrong para- dox to provoke discussion among others, which would amuse himself, rioting in a Rabelaisian anecdote, and lis- tening with critical delight to endless memoirs of horses and prima-donnas, St. Aldegonde was never bored. Some- times, too, when he could get hold of an eminent traveller, or some individual distinguished for special knowledge, St. Aldegonde would draw him out with skill, himself dis- playing an acquaintance with the particular topic which oflen surprised his habitual companions, for St. Aldegonde professed never to read ; but he had no ordinary abilities,
i
and no ori^nal lum of mind and habit of life, which threw him in ttie way of niiiisnal peraons of all classes, from nhotn he imbibed or extracted a vast vninot^ of queer, always amasing, and not altogether uaeloss, information.
' Lothair has only one weakness,' he said to Colonel ('(unpiaa as the ladies disappeared ; ' ho does not smoke. Carry, you will come ? '
' WcU, I do not think I shall to-night,* eaid Lord Caria- brookc. Lady Corisando, it appears, particuliu-ly disap- proved of smoking.
' Ham ! ' said St. AJdegondo ; ' Doko of Brecon I know will come, and Hugo and Bertram, lly brother Jlontairy iroald gire hia ears to come, but is afraid of his wife ; and then there is the Uonsignoro, a most capital feliow, who knows OY cry thing,'
There were other gatherings before the midnight boil atnick at the Towers which discussed important aiTairs, though they might not sit so late as the smoking party, Tindy St. Atdcgonde had a reception in her room as well aa hor lord. There the silent obsen-ation of the evening funnd avenging expression in sparkling criticism ; and the Aiinuncr lightning, thongh it gcnei-ally blaied with harm, lees brilliancy, oceasjonally assumed a more arrowy cba- mct«r. The gentlemen of the amoking-room have it not all thdr own way quite as mnch as they think. If, indeed, a Dcw school of Athens wore to be pictured, the sages and Lha students might bo represented in e^iqnisite dressing- gowns, witli slippers rarer Uiiin the lost one of Ciiiderellfli, wid branilisliing bcauLiful brushes over tresses still more fjur. Then is the time when characters are never more finely drawn, or difficult aocini qnestiora more accurtttety Bolved ; knowledge without reasoning, and Imth withcmt logic : the triumph of iotnition I But we must not pro- fane the mysteries of Bona Dea.
Tbo An-hdcucori and the Chaplain had also lieea in
222 LOTHAIR.
oonncil with the Bishop in his dressing-room, who, whlLo he dismissed them with his henison, repeated his ap- parently satisfactory assurance, that something would happen ' the first thing after breakfast.'
Lothair did not smoke, but he did not sleep. He was absorbed by the thought of Theodora. He could not but be conscious, and so far he was pleased by the conscious- ness, that she was as fascinating to others as to himself. What then ? Even with the splendid novelty of his majestic hon^e, and all the excitement of such an incident in his life, and the immediate prospect of their again meet- ing, he had felt, and even acutely, their separation. Whe- ther it were the admiration of her by others which proved his own just appreciation, or whether it were the unob- tmsive display of exquisite accomplishments, which with all their intimacy she had never forced on his notice ; whatever the cause, her hold upon his heart and life, pow- erful as it was before, had strengthened. Lothair could not conceive existence tolerable without her constant pre- sence ; and with her constant presence existence would be rapture. It had come to that. All his musings, all his profound investigation and high resolve, all his sublime speculations on God and man, and life and immortality, and the origin of tilings, and religious truth, ended in an engrossing state of feeling, which could be denoted in that form and in no other.
What then was his future ? It seemed dark and dis- tressing. Her constant presence his only happiness ; her constant presence impossible. He seemed on an abyss.
In eight and forty hours or so one of the chief provinces of England would be blazing with the celebration of his legal accession to his high estate. If anyone in the Queen's dominions had to be fixed upon as the most fortunate and happiest of her subjects, it might well be Lothair. If happiness depend on lofly station, his ancient and here
LOTHAIR. 223
dltaiy mak was of tho highest; if, as there Buoms no doubt, tile cLitif Bource of fclicitf in this uountry is wealth, bia vast puRSf'ssioiiB and accumulated treasure could not easily lie rivalled, while he had a matchless advantage over those who pass, or waste, their grey and wittered lives in acquiring millions, \a his consnrainate and healthy youth. Ho had bright abilities, and a brighter heart. And yet tho aiiknowu trutb was, that this favoured being, on the eve of this eriticaJ t^veut, waa pacing his chamber agitated and itifinitoly disqnieled, and struggling with circumstances and feelings over which alike ho seemed to have no control, and wiiich seemed to have been evoked without the exercise of Ilia own will, or that of any other perwon.
' I do not think I t-an blame myBelr,' he lUud ; ' and I am
e 1 cannot blame ber. And yet ■ '
le opened his window and looked upon tho moonlit gnrden, wliicb filled the fanciful qoadmngle. The hght of 1 the fountain seemed lo fascinate his eye, and the music of [ its f&ll southed liini into reverie. Tho distressful im^es I that had gathered round hi» heaH gradually vaniiihed, and \ lUl that remained to him was tbe reality of liis happiness, I Her beauty and her grace, the sweet stillness of her I aenrcbing intellect, and the refined pathos of ber dieposi- tion only occurred U> him, and be dwelt on them with gpell- k bound joy.
The great clock of the Towers sounded two. ' Ah ! ' said Lothair, ' I must try to sleep. I have got to ipe tho Bishop to-mon-ow morning. I wonder what he
224 LOTH AIR.
CHAPTER XLrV.
The Bishop was particalarly playful on the moirow at breakfast. Though his face beamed nvith Chiistiaii kind- ness, there was a twinkle in his eye which seemed not entirely superior to mundane self-complacency, even to a sense of earthly merriment. His seraphic raillery elicited sympathetic applause from the ladies, especially from the daughters of the house of Brentham, who laughed ooca- sionally even before his angelic jokes were well lanncfaed. His lambent flashes sometimes even played over the Cardinal, whose cerulean armour, nevertheless, remained always unscathed. Monsignore Chidioch, however, who would once unnecessarily rush to the aid of his chief^ waa tumbled over by the Bishop with relentless gaiety, to the infinite delight of Lady Corisande, who only wished it had been that dreadful ^lonsignore Catesby. But, though less demonstrative, apparently not the least devout of his Lord- ship's votaries were the Lady Flora and the Lady GrizelL These young gentlewomen, though apparently gifted with appetites becoming their ample but far from graceless forms, contrived to satisfy all the wants of nature without taking their charmed vision for a moment off the prelate, or losing a word which escaped his consecrated lips. Some- times even they ventured to smile, and then they looked at their father and sighed. It was evident, notwithstanding their appetites and their splendid complexions, which would have become the Aurora of Guide, that these young ladies had some secret sorrow which reouired a confidante. Their visit to Muriel Towers was their introduction to society, for the eldest had only just attained sweet seventeen. Young ladies under these circumstances always fall in love, but with their own sex. Lady Flora and Lady Grizell both
LOTH AIR.
22S
fell Ln lovo with Lady Corisando, and before tlie mommg Dad passed away s}ie hud become tbeir friend and connaeUur, and the object of their devoted adoration. It seems that- their secret Borrow had its origin in tliat myatci'ions rcii- pons sentiment which ngitatos or aSects evciy elcsa and condition of man, and which oreat^s or destroys states, tbongb philoaopLera arc daily assariug ns ' that there ia nothing in it.' The daughters of the Earl of CuUodoit coold not stand any longer the Free Kirk, of whieh their aantere pai'ent was a (iory votary. It seems that they bod been aecrclly converted to the Episcopal Church of Scot- liuul by a governess, who pretended to be a daughter of the Covenant, but who was really a niece of the Primas, and, US Lord Culloden acutely observed, when he ignomiuionsly dismissed her, ' a Jeanit in disguise.' From that moment there bad been no peace in his house. His handsome and gigSintic daughters, who had hitherto been all meebief^, and who bad olieycd him as tliey wonld a tyrant father of the feudal ages, were resolute, and wonid not compromise tlielr souls. They humbly expressed their desire to enter a convent, or to become at least siatera of merey. Loi-d Colloden raged and raved, and delivered liimBclf of cyniod taonta, but to no purpose. The principle thivt forms free kirks is a strong princi])le, and takes many forms, which the social Polyphemea, wIjo have only one eye. cannot pei-- cdve. In liis desperate cunfusion, he thought tbac change of scfno might bo a diversion when thing;8 were at the worst, and this was the reason that he had, contrary to liis original intention, accepted the invitation of his ward.
IjiAy Corisatide was exactly the guide the girls required. They sate on eaeh side of her, each holding her hiiiid, which they frequently pressed to their lips. As her fofm was ■light, though of perfect grace and symmetry, the contrast between herself and her wiirsbljipers was rather startling; bat her noble brow, full of thought and piir]iMe, the firm-
226 LOTH AIR.
ness of her chiselled lip, and the rich fire of her ^hmoe^ vindicated her post as the leading spirit.
They breakfasted in a room which opened on a gallerj, and at the other end of the gallerj was an apartment similar to the breakfast-room, which was the male morning- room, and where the world could find the newspapers, or join in half an hoar's talk over the intended arrangements of the day. When the breakfast-party btt>ke np, the Bishop approached Lothair, and looked at him earnestly.
' I am at your Lordship's service,* said Lothair, and they quitted the breakfast-room together. Halfway down the gallery they met Monsignore Catosby, who had in his hand a number, just arrived, of a newspaper which was esteemed an Ultramontane organ. He bowed as he passed them, with an air of some exultation, and the Bishop and he exchanged significant smiles, which, however, meant difierent things. Quitting the gallery, Lothair led the way to his private apartments ; and, opening the door, ushered in the Bishop.
Now what was contained in the Ultramontane organ which apparently occasioned so much satisfaction to Mon- signore Catcsby ? A deflbly drawn-up auuouncemcnt of some important arrangements which had been deeply planned. The announcement would be repeated in all iho daily papers, which were hourly expected. The world was informed that his Eminence, Cardinal Grandison, now on a visit at Muriel Towers to his ward, Lothair, would cele- brate High Mass on the ensuing Sunday in the city which was the episcopal capital of the Bishop's see, and after- wards preach on the present state of the Church of Christ. As the Bishop must be absent from his cathedral that day, and had promised to preach in the chapel at Muriel, there was something dexterous in thus turning his Lordship's flank, and desolating his diocese when he was not present to guard it from the fiery di*agon. It was also remarked
LOTHAIR.'
337
that tlioro would be an onnsual gatleriiij^ of the Catholic aristoiiracy for tie occasion. The rale oF loclginga iu the cily bad risen in consequence. At tlie end of the para- gmpL it was distinctlj contradicted that Lothair liad entered the Catholic Clmrcli. Such a statement was de- rlured to be ' premature,' as his guardian the Cardinnl would never sanction his taking' such a step until he was the master of his own actions ; the general impression left lij- tio whole paragraph being, that the world was not to be astonished if the first steji of Lothair, on accumplishing hia majority, was to pursue the very course which was now daintily described as premature.
At luncheon the whole party were again aaaembled, Tbe newspapers had arrived in the interval and hod been digested. Every one was aware of the Popish plot, aa Ungo Bohun called it. The Bishop, however, looked Acrone and, if not as elate as in tbe morning, calm aud content. He sal^ by the Duchess, and spoke to her in a low voice and with seriousnesa. The Monsignoii watclied every expression.
Wheu the Duchess rose the Biahc the recess of a window, and she s span me; I cannot answer for thi e always rises early
accompanied her into id, ' You may depend Duke. It is not the the country, but he
I
likes to read liia lettorn before he dressea, and that sort c tiling, I think yoa had better speak to Lady Corisaiide youniolf.'
What had laken place at the interview of the Bishop with Lothair, and what had elicited from the Duche.ss an assniv iince that the prelate might depend upon her, generally trans- pired, in consequence of some confidential communications, in the conrse of the afternoon. It apjieared that the Right Ilcverend Lord hod impressed, and successfully, on Lothair the paramount duty of commencing the day of his majority by assisting in an eariy celebration of the most sacred rite
228 LOTH AIR.
of the Church. This, in the estimation of the Bishop, though he had not directly alluded to the subject in tho interview, but had urged the act on higher gronnds, would be a triumphant answer to the insidious and calumnious paragraphs which had circulated during the last six months, and an authentic testimony that Lothair was not going to quit the Church of his fathers.
This announcement, however, produced consternation in the opposite camp. It seemed to more than neutralise the anticipated effect of the programme, and the deftly-con- ceived paragraph. Monsignore Catesby went about whis- pering that he feared Lothair was going to overdo it ; aod considering what he had to go through on Monday, if it were only for considerations of health, an early celebration was inexpedient. He tried the Duchess, about whom he was beginning to hover a good deal, as ho fancied she was of an impressionable disposition, and gave some promise of results; but here the ground had been too forcibly pre- occupied : then he flew to Lady St. Aldegonde, but he had the mortification of learning from her lips that she herself contemplated being a communicant at the same time. Lady Corisande had been before him. All the energies of that young lady were put forth in order that Lothair should be countenanced on this solemn occasion. She conveyed to the Bishop before dinner the results of her exertions.
* You may count on Alberta St. Aldegonde and Victoria Montairy, and, I think. Lord Montairy also, if she presses him, which she has promised to do. Bertram must kneel by his friend at such a time. I think Lord Carisbrooke may : Duke of Brecon I can say nothing about at present.'
* Lord St. Aldegonde ? * said the Bishop. Lady Corisande shook her head.
There had been a conclave in the Bishop's room before dinner, in which the interview of the morning was dis- cussed.
LOTH AIR.
229
' It woB sncccesful 1 scarcely satisraclorj-,' said the Bisliop. Id is & very clever fellow, and knows a great deal. Thoy VI! gut liold of liim, tuid Le has all the arguments at i fingers" enda. When I came to tlie point be began
> demur ; I saw what was passing throufrh his mind, id I said at once, " Yonr viewa aro higli : so aro ine; so are those of the Church. It is a sacriGcc, nn- mbtedly, in a certain senac. Ko sonnd theologian vronid hintain tbe simplicity of the elements; but that doca not
trolve the coarse interpretation of the dark ages." ' ' Good, good,' said the Archdeacon ; * and what is it your
ordsbip did not exactly like P ' ' He fenced too miicb ; and be said more tban once, and
I K manner I did not like, that, whateTei- were his views
I to the Church, he thought he could on the whole con-
lientionsly partake of Uiis rite as administered by tbe
Loroh of England.' ' Everything depends on this celebration,' said the Chap.
iu; 'ailer that his doubts and difficulties will disperse.' 'We roust do our best that he may bo well Bopported,'
lid the Ai'ch deacon.
'No fear of that,' said the Bishop. 'I have spoken to ine of onr friends. We may depend on the Dnchesa and IT daughters, all admirable wiimen ; and they will do what ,1 they can with others. It will be a busy day, but I have expressed my hope that the heads of the household may be •fale to attend. But the county notables arrive to-day, and [ shall make it a point with them, especially tlie Lord Lieu tenant.' ' It should be known,' said the Chaplain. ' I will send a morandum to the " Guardian." ' 'And "John Bull," ' said tho Bishop,
I Tbe Lord Lieutenant and Lady Agramont, and their
kughur. Lady Ida Alice, arrived to-day j and the High
[uanuruclnrrr, a great liberal who delighted in
230 LOTH AIR.
pocrs, but whoso otherwise perfect folicity to-daj was a little marred and lessened by the haunting and restless fear that Lothair was not duly aware that he took precedence of the Lord Lieutenant. Then there were Sir Hamlet Clot- w^orthy, the master of the hounds, and a capital man of business ; and the honourable Lady Clotworthy, a haughty dame who ruled her circle with tremendous airs and graces, but who was a little subdued in the empyrean of Muriel Towers. The other county member, Mr. Ardenne, was a refined gentleman and loved the arts. He had an ancient pedigree, and knew everybody else's, which was not always pleasant. What he most prided himself on was being the hereditary owner of a real deer park; the only one, he asserted, in the county. Other persons had parks which had deer in them, but that was quite a difiPerent thing. His wife was a pretty woman, and the inspiring genius of archBeological societies, who loved their annual luncheon in her Tudor Halls, and illustrated by their researches the deeds and dwellings of her husband's ancient race.
The clergy of the various parishes on the estate all dined at the Towers to-day, in order to pay their respects to their Bishop. * Lotbair's oecumenical council,' said Hugo Bohun, as he entered the crowded room, and looked around him with an air of not ungraceful impertinence. Among the clergy was Mr. Smylie, the brother of Apollonia.
A few years ago, ^Ir. Putney Giles had not unreasonably availed himself of the position which he so usefully and so honoui-ably (illed, to recommend this gentleman to the guardians of Lothair to fill a vacant benefice. The Reverend Dionysius Smylie had distinguished himself at Trinity College, Dublin, and had gained a Hebrew scholar- ship there ; after that he had written a work on the Revelation, which clearly settled the long-controverted point whether Rome in the great apocalypse was signified by Babylon. The Bishop shrugged his shoulders when ho
I
LOTH AIR. Ht
received Mr. Soiyliu's papers, the examiimig Chnplais sighed, and tbe Arclidoacoa groaned. But man ia pn>- verbiaily ehortaighted. The doctrine of evolntion aObrda no iiiHtiinc«s 60 atrikisg as those of sacerdotal development. Placed under the favouring conditions of clinio and soil, the real character of the Rev. Dioiiymiis Sniylie gradually, bat powerfully, developed itself. Whore he now tnini.'^ lort^, ho was attended by acolytes, and incunticd by thnriJers. The ebonldera of a fellow- conn trymnn wore alone ei^oal to the burden of tbe enormoua cross which pnjceded him; while bis ecclesiastical wardrobe famished luni with many coloured garments, suited to every Boasoo of tbe year, and every festival of the Chm'ch.
At first there was indignation, and nunoura or prophe- ck-e tiiat we slionld soon have another cose of pervorsioii, ■ltd tbat Mr. Sinylie was going; over to Rome ; but these Kuperticial commentators misapprehended the vigorous vanity of the man. ' Rome may come to me,' said Mr, tiniylie, 'and it is perhaps the best thing it could do. This is the real Church without Romish error.'
The Bishop and hia reverend staff, who were at first so much annoyed at tbe preferment of £Ir. Smylic, bad now, with respect to him, only one duty, and that was to restrain bis exabenuit priestliness ; but they fulSlled that duty in a kindly and charitable spirit ; and when the R«v. DionyBiua Bmylio was appointed chaplain to Lothair, the Bishop did not shrog his shoulders, the Chaplain did not Bigli, nor tlie Archdeacon groan.
The party was so considerable to-day that they dined in the great ball. Wlion it was announced to Lothair that bis Lordship's dinner was served, and he oIToriHl his arm to bla destined companion, ho looked ai-ound, and tbcn, in an audible voice, and with a statellncss becoming sueb an iii. cidcDt, called upon tbe High Sheriff to lead the OacheKs to tbu tabic. Although that eminent personage bad been
232 LOTH AIR.
thinking of noihing else for days, and during the last half- hour had felt as a man feels, and can only feel, who knows that some public function is momentarily about to &11 to his perilous discharge, he was taken quite aback, changed colour, aiid lost his head. But the band of Lothair, who were waiting at the door of the apartment to precede the procession to the hall, striking up at this moment * The lloast Beef of Old England,' reanimated his heart; and following Lothair, and preceding all the other guests down the gallery, and through many chambers, he experienced the proudest moment of a life of struggle, ingenuity, vicissitude, and success.
CHAPTER XLV.
Under all this flowing festivity there was already a current of struggle and party passion. Serious thoughts and some anxiety occupied the minds of several of the guests, amid the variety of proffered dishes and sparkling wines, and the subdued strains of delicate music. This disquietude did not touch Lothair. He was happy to find himself in his ancestral hall, surrounded by many whom he respected and by some whom he loved. He was an excellent host, which no one can be who does not combine a good heart with high breeding.
Theodora was rather far from him, but he could catch her grave, sweet countenance at an angle of the table, as she bowed her head to Mr. Ardenne, the county member, who was evidently initiating her in all the mysteries of deer parks. The Cardinal sate near him, winning over, though without apparent effort, the somewhat prejudiced Lady Agramont. His Eminence could converse with more facility than others, for he dined off" biscuits and drank only water. Lord Culloden had taken out Lady St. Jerome,
I
LOTHAIR. 833
who expended on >iim all the resonrces of hor impHssiooed tittle- tatilc, extracting only grim smiles ; and Ladj Cori- sande had fallen to the hiippj' lot of the Doke of Brecon ; ac- oarding to the fine perception of Clare Ammiel (and women are very quick in these diacoveriea) the winning horse. St. Aldegondc had managed to tumble in between Lady Flora and Lady Grizell, and seemed immensely amnHcd.
The Dnke enqnired of LotLair liow many he conld dine in hJ.^ Imll.
■ We most dine more than two hundred on Monday,' he replied.
' And now, I Ehnuld think, we hare only a third of that nnmber," said his Grace. ' It will be a tight fit.'
• Mr. Putney Gilca haa bad a dmwiug made, and every scat apportioned. We shall jnst do it'
' I fear you will have too busy a day on llonday,' said the Cardinal, who htid cangbt np the conversation.
' Well, you know, sir, I do not sit up amokiug with Lord St Aldegondc'
Afl«r dinner, Lady CoriBando seated herself by Mrs. Ciunpian. ' Ton must have thonght mo very rude,' she •aid, ' to have left you so suddenly at tea, when the Bishop looked into the i^wm ; but he wanted me on a matter of the greatest importance. I must, therefore, ask your pardon. Yon natunvlly would not feel on this matter as we all do, or most of aa do,' she added with some besita* Lioa ; ' being, pardon me, a foreigner, and the question involving national as well as religions feelings ; ' and then aomewhat hurriedly, but with emotion, aho detailed to Theodora all that had occurred respecting the early cele- brstion on Iilonday, and the opposition it was receiving fi^m tlie Cardinal and his friends. It wtus a relief to Lady Corisande thus to express all her feelings on a subject on whioh she had been brooding the whole day.
Tou mistake,' said Theodora qaictly, when Lndy Cori-
234 LOTH AIR.
Rando had finished. ' I am mach interested in what yon tell me. I shonld deplore our Mend ficdling under the in- duence of the Romish priesthood.'
'And yet there is danger of it,' said Lady Corisande, ' more than danger,' she added in a low hut earnest voice. ' You do not know what a conspiracy is going on, and has heen going on for months to effect this end. I tremble.'
* That is the last thing I ever do,' said Theodora with a faint sweet smile. * I hope, but I never tremble.'
* You have seen the announcement in the newspapers to- day P ' said Lady Corisande.
' I think if they were certain of their prey they would be more reserved,' said Theodora.
* There is something in that,' said Lady Corisande musingly. * You know not what a relief it is to me to speak to you on this matter. Mamma agrees with me, and 80 do my sisters ; but still they may agree with me because they are my mamma and my sisters ; bat I look upon our nobility joining the Church of Rome as the greatest calamity that has ever happened to England. IiTCspective of all religious considerations, on which I will not presume to touch, it is an abnegation of patriotism ; and in this age, when all things are questioned, a love of our country seems to me the one sentiment to cling to.'
* I know no higher sentiment,' said Theodora in a low voice, and yet which sounded like the breathing of some divine shiine, and her Athenian eye met the fiery glance of Lady Corisande with an expression of noble sympathy.
' I am so glud that I spoke to you on this matter,' said Lady Corisaudo, * for there is something in you wliich encourages me. As you say, if they were certain they would be sileut ; and yet, hxnn what I hear, their hopes are high. You know,' she added in a whisper, *' that he has absolutely engaged to raise a Popish Cathedral. My brother, Bertram, has seen tb^ model in his rooms.'
'yon were not born to who have co country, of England, Iho benati-
i
LOTHAIR. 335
' I hnvD IcDowc moilols that were oEvcr realised,' said Theodora.
'Ah! yoo (ire liopefo] ; you said you were hopeful. It is * beantiful dieposition. It is not mine,' ahe added with
'It should be,' said Theodora; figh. Sighs should bo for thos like myself; not for the daaghtei I ul (laughters of proud England.'
' But yoa have your husband's country, and that is proud and ^cat.'
' I have only one country, and it is not my husband's ; and I have only one thought, and it in to see it free.'
'It is a noble one,' said Lady Corisande, 'aa I am sni'S »n> all your thoughts. There are the gentletneo ; 1 am voiry they have come. There,' she added, as Monsiguore Cntesby entered the room, ' there ia Ids evil fjenius.'
' But you have baffled bim,' said Tlieodoni.
'Ah!' said Lady Corieande, with a long-drawn eigh. • Their maQtcuvros never cease. However, I think Mon- day most be safe. Would you come ?' she said, with a serious, searcliitig glance, and in a kind of coaxing murmur,
' I should Ul an intruder, my dear laily,' said Theodora, dectiuing the suggestion; 'but so far as hoping that our friend will never join tlio Church of Rome, you will Lave my ardent wishes."
Thoodont might have added her belief, for Lothair had nBVcr concealed from her a single thought or act of bis Ul'e in this rcRpect, She knew all and Lad weighed every- Ibiug, and flutlered herself that their frequent and onre- BOrved conversationa had not confirmed hia belief in the infallibility of llio Church of Rome, and perhaps of some other things.
It hftd been settled that there should Iw d.ancing thin flvomug ; all the young ladies had wished it. Lotbaii
236 LOTH AIR.
danced with Lady Flora Falkirk, and her sister, Ladj Grizoll, was in the same quadrille. Thej moved about like young giraffes in an African forest, but looked bright and happy. Liothair liked his cousins ; their inexperience and innocence, and the simplicity with which they ex- hibited and expressed their feelings, had in it something bewitching. Then the rough remembrance of his old life at Falkirk and its contrast with the present scene, had in it something stimulating. They were his juniors by several years, but they were always gentle and kind to him ; and sometimes it seemed he was the only person whom they too had found kind and gentle. He called his cousin too by her christian name, and he was amused, standing by tliis beautiful giantess, and calling her Flora. There were other amusing circumstances in the quadrille ; not the least. Lord St. Aldegonde dancing with Mrs. Campian. The wonder of Lady St. Aldegonde was only equalled bj her delight.
The Lord Lieutenant was standing by the Duke in a comer of the saloon, observing not with dissatisfaction his daughter, Lady Ida Alice, dancing with Lothair.
*Do you know this is the first time I ever had the honour of meeting a Cardinal ? ' he said.
* And we never expected that it would happen to either of us in this country when we were at Christchnrch to- gether,' replied the Duke.
*Well, I hope everything is for the best,' said Lord Agramont. * We are to have all these gentlemen in our good city of Grandchester to-morrow.'
* So I understand.'
* You rend that paragraph in the newspapers ? Do you think there is anything in it ? '
* About our friend ? It would be a great misfortune.'
* The Bishop says there is nothing in it,' said the Lord I/ieutouant.
I
LOTHAIR. 2-57
* ^etl, be onglit to know. I nndeTStand he has had Bcnio aeriona conversutiaii recently nit]) oar fiiend F '
' Tea ; he has spoken to ute about it. Are you going to attend the early celebration to-morrow ? It ia not much to my tnate ; a little new-fangled, I tliiuk ; but I ahitll go, aa they say it will do good.*
' 1 am glad of that ; it la well tliat be shonld be im- pressed at this moment with tlie importance and opinion of
' Do yon know I nerer saw liim before,' said tho LoiJ Uentenant. ' He is winning.'
* I know no youth,' said the Diike, ' (I would not eicojit mj own son, and Bertram has never given ine an nneaay moment,) of whom I have a better opinion, both as to h(<art and bead. I should deeply deplore his being emashed by » Jesait.'
Tb« daccing had ceased for a moment ; there was a •tir; Lord Carisbrooke was eulaj-ging, with nnnsoal ani- ntivlion, to an interested group ubout a new dance at Paris : the new dance, Conld they not have it here ? Un- fnrtuntttoly he did not know its name, and could not describe its Ggure ; but it was something new ; quite new ; lliey have got it at Paris. Princesa Metteroich dances it, Hs danced it with her, and slio tiiaght it him ; only he Borer conld explain anything, and indeed never did exactly nuke it out. ' But you dance it with a shawl, and then two ladies hold the shun], and the cavaliers pass under it. In fact il is the only thing ; it 18 the new dance at Paris.'
What a pity that anything so delightful shonld be so indefinite and perplexing, ond indeed impoBsible, which rendered it still more desirable ! If Lord Carisbrooke only oonld have remembered its name, or a single step in ita figure ; it was so tantalising 1
' Do not yon think so P ' said Hugo Bohnn to Mra. Cumpiui], who was sitting apart listening to Lord St.
238 LOTH AIR.
Aldogoiide*8 account of his travels in the United States, which he was veiy sorry he ever quitted. And then they enquired to what Mr. Bohun referred, and then he told them all that had heen said.
' I know what he means,* said Mrs. Campian. ' It is not a French dance ; it is a Moorish dance.'
' That woman knows everything, Hugo,' said Lord St. Aldegonde in a solemn whisper. And then ho called to his wife. ' Bertha, Mrs. Campian will tell you all ahout this dance that Carishrooke is making such a mull of. Now look here, Bertha ; you must get the Campians to come to us as soon as ])ossihle. They are going to Scot- land from this place, and there is no reason, if you manage it well, why they should not come on to us at once. Now exert yourself
* I will do all I can, Granville.'
* It is not French, it is Moorish ; it is called the Tan- gerine,' said Theodora to her surrounding votaries. * You begin with a circle.'
* But how are we to dance without the music ? * said Lady Montairy.
* Ah ! I wish I liad known tins,' said Theodora, * before dinner, and I think I could have dotted down something that would have helped us. But let me see,' and she went up to the eminent professor, with whom she was well acquainted, and said, * Signer Ricci, it begins so,' and she hummed divinely a fantastic air, which, after a few moments' musing, he reproduced ; * and then it goes off into what they call in Spain a saraband. Is there a shawl in the room ?'
* My mother has always a shawl in reserve,' said Ber- tram, ' particularly when she pays visits to houses where there are galleries;' and he brought back a mantle of Cashmere.
' Now, Signer Ricci,' said Mrs. Campian, and she again
LOTH AIR.
=39
CDined an air, and moved forward at tlie same tiiup with illiaot gmce, waving at tbo cud tbe sbawl. The expression of her conii(«n(Lucc, looking ronoil to Kgnor Rictri, as she was movin;;; on to bcb whether he hnd idgrht her idea, fascinated Lothntr.
a exactly wliat 1 told you,' said Lord CarisbrooVe,
■sud, I can aasDre yon, it is the only dunce now. I aia
J glad 1 remembered it.'
'I SCO it all,' said Signer Ricci, as Thnodora rapidly
detailed to him the rest of the figure. 'And at any rate it
will bo the Tangeiino with variations.'
' Let me have the honour of being yonr partner in this enterprise,' said Lotboir j ' you are the inspiration ol
' Oh I I am very glad I can do anything, however slight, D please yon and your friends. I like them all ; but pai-- Kcnlarly Lady Corisande.'
■w dance in a country honse is a festival of frolic The incomplete knowledge and the imporfoot lution are themselves caiiaea of merry escitemcnt, in pbeir ooQtrafit with the animpassioned routine and almost nconscious practice of traditionary performances. And Hy and frequent were the harsts of laughter from tlia night and airy baud who were proud to be the acliolara ol nieodora. Tbo least successful among them was perhaps <ord Carisbrooko.
' Princess Mettomich roust have taught yoa wrong, VHobrooke,' said Hugo Bohun.
They ended with a waltz, Lothair dancing with Miss ^ruudol. She accepted his offer to fake Rotno tea on its BOQclusion. While they were standing at the table, a little rithdrawn from others, and he holding a sngar basin, she low voice, looking on her cup and not at him, I^The Cardinal is veied ahoat tho early celebration ; be a it should liave been at miJcight.'
240 LOTH AIR.
' I am sorry be is vexed,' said Lothair.
* He was going to speak to you himself^* oontmned Kis Ajimdel ; ' bat he felt a delicacy abont it. He had thought that your common feelings respecting the Church might have induced you, if not to consult, at least to convenev with him on the subject ; 1 mean as your guardian/
' It might have been perhaps as well,' said Lothair ; ' but I also feel a dehcacy on these matters.'
'There ought to be none on such matters,' oontinned ^liss Arundel, ' when everything is at stake.'
' I do not see that I could have taken any oilier oouiae than I have done,' said Lothair. * Tt can hardly be wrong. The Bishop's church views are sound.'
' Sound ! ' said Miss Arundel ; ' moonshine instead of sunshine.'
* Moonshine would rather suit a midnight than a mom* ing celebration,' said Lothair ; * would it not ? '
* A fair repartee, but we are dealing with a question that cannot be settled by jests. See,' she said with great seriousness, putting down her cup and taking again his offered arm, * you think you are only complying with a form befitting your position and the occasion. You deceive yourself. You are hampering your future freedom by this step, and they know it. That is why it was planned. It was not necessary ; nothing can be necessary
! so pregnant with evil. You might have made, you might yet make, a thousand excuses. It is a rite which hardly
' suits the levity of the hour, even with their feelings ; but, with your view of its real character, it is sacrilege. What is occurring to-night might furnish you with scruples.' And she looked up in his face.
' * I think you take an exaggerated view of what I oon»
template,' said Lothair. *Even with your convictions it
, may be an imperfect rite ; but it never can be an injurious one.
LOTHAIR.
241
' Tfaera can be no compromiBO on suoli mntters,' eaid Miss AjmnJeL 'The Charch knows notliinif of imperfect ril«8. They are all perfout becanse they ure all divinej any deviation from them is htrefly, and fatiil. My con' victions on this subject are your oonvictionB ; act up to
• 1 am snre if thinking of these matters wonlJ guide u
man righb ' said Lothair with a sigh, and he stopped.
' Human thought wi!l never gaide yon ; and very justly, when you have for a guide Divine truth. Ton lue now your own master ; go at once ta its fountain-head ; go to Rome, and then all your perplexities will vanish, and for e»Br.'
' I do not see mnch prospect of my going to Rome,' ■aid Lothair, 'at least at present.'
' Well,* said Miss Arundul ; ' in a few weeks I liope to be there ; and if so, 1 hope never to quit it,' U^^'Do not say that; the future is always unknown.' ^^H^ Not yours,' said Misa Arundel, ' Whatever yon thinj^ ^^^k will go to Borne, filark niy words. I summon you to ^^Hflt me at Rome.'
^" CHAPTER XLVL
There can bo little doubt, generally Bpeaking, that it ia more satisfactory to pass Sunday in the country tban in town. There ia something in the essential stillness of country life, which blends harmoniously with the ordinance of the most divine of our divine laws. It is pleasant too, when the congregation breaks up, to greet one's neigh- bours ; to say kind words to kind f:icea ; to bear somo rnr&l news profitable to learn, whieh somctimi-s enables iVOO to do some good, and sometimes prevents others frtnn some haj'Ui. A quiet domcalio walk tuo iu the
242 LOTH AIR.
aflemooD has its pleasures ; and so nnmerons and so yarioaa are the sources of interest in the coontrj, that, though it be Sunday, there is no reason why your walk should sot have an object.
But Sunday in the country, with your house full of visitors, is too often an exception to this general truth. It is a trial. Your guests cannot always be at church, and, if they could, would not like it. There is nothing to interest or amuse them : no sport ; no castles or fetctories to visit ; no adventurous expeditions ; no gay music in the mom, and no light dance in the evening. There is always danger of the day becoming a course of heavy meals and stupid walks, for the external scene and 'all its teeming circumstances, natural and human, though full of cx>ncem to you, are to your visitors an insipid blank.
How did Sunday go off at Muriel Towers ?
in the first place there was a special ti*ain, which at an early hour took the Cardinal and his suite and the St Jerome family to Grandcheoter, where they were awaited with profound expectation. But the Anglican portion of the guests were not without their share of ecclesiastical and spiritual excitement, for the Bishop was to preach this day in the chapel of the Towers, a fine and capacious sanctuary of florid Gothic, and his Lordship was a sacerdotal orator of repute.
It had been announced that the breakfast hour was to bo somewhat earlier. The ladies in general were punctual, and seemed conscious of some great event impending. The ladies Flora and Gnzell entered with, each in her hand, a prayer-book of purple velvet adorned with a decided cross, the gift of the Primus. Lord Culloden, at the request of Lady Corisande, had consented to their hearing the Bishop, which he would not do himself. He passed his morning in finally examiiiiiig the guardians' accounts, the investigation of which he conducted and concluded during the rest of
LOTH AIR.
343
ttae day with Ur. Putney Giles. Mrs. Campian did Dot leftve her room. Lord St. Aldcgonde came down late, and looked Aibant him with an nnensy, ill-bninoared air.
WLelher frum tho absence of Theodora or from some
f>tber caose, he was brask, ungracious, scowling, u,nd silent,
ooly nodding to the Biahnp who beQignly Biiiutcd him, re-
fnsing every dish tliat was otFered, then getting np and
I helping himself at tbe side table, making a great noise with
^^|fee carving instruments, and Honucing down his plate when
^^^■K resumed hia Heat. Nor was bis costume correct. All
^^^Be oilier gentlemen, thongh their usual morning drcsse.'t
^^^wera sufficiently fantastic (trunk hose of every form, stock-
^^^kgs bright as paroquets, wondrona shirts, and velvet i;outs .
^Htf every tint), habited themselves to-day, both as regards
^^fonn and colour, in a stylo indicative of the subdued gravity
of their feelings. Lord St. Aldegonde had on his shooting
jacket of brown velvet and a pink shirt and no cravat, and
his rich brown locks, always to a certain degree neglected,
were peculiarly diabevelled.
Hugo Bobun, who was not afraid of him and was a high ^^clmrchmiin, being in religion and in all other matters ^^Ktways on the side of the Duchesses, said, ' Well, St. Alde- ^^^■onde, are you going to chapel in that dress ? ' But St. I^^Lldegonde would not answer ; he gave a snort and glanced m' K Hugo with the eye of a gladiator.
The meal was over. The Bi.shop was standing near tho mantelpiece talking to the ladies, who were clustered ronnd ^iiim ; the Archdi-acon and tbe Chaplain and some other lergy a little in the background ; Lord St. Aldegonde, who, )|rbetlier there were a fire or not, always stiKMl with his Uik to the fireplace with his hands in his pockets, moved HsconrtVOnBly among them, assumed his nsual position, and iRTied, »s it were grimly, for a few moments to their talk j ^ flnddonly exclaimed in a loud voice, and with tbe ]f !■ rebellious Titan, ' How I hate Sunday ! '
244 LOTH AIR.
* Granville ! ' exclaimod Lady St. Aldcgonde, tnnung pale. There was a general shudder.
' I mean in a country-house,' said Lord St. Aldegonde. ' Of course I mean in a country-house. I do not dislike it when alone, and I do not dislike it in London. But Sun- day in a country-house is infernal.'
' I think it is now time for us to go,' aaid the Bishop, walking away with dignified reserve, and they all dispersed.
The service was choral and intoned ; for although the Rev. Dionysius Smylie had not yet had time or opportunity, as was his intention, to form and train a choir from the hoaso- hold of the Towers, he had secured from his neighbouring parish and other sources external and effective aid in that respect. The parts of the service were skilfully distributed, and rarely were a greater number of priests enlisted in a more imposing manner. A good organ was well played ; the singing, as usual, a little too noisy ; there was an an- them and an introit, but no incense, which was forbidden by the Bishop ; and though there were candles on the altAr, they were not permitted to be lighted.
The sermon was most successful ; the ladies reiximed with elate and animated faces, quite enthusiastic and almost for- getting in their satisfaction the terrible outrage of Lord St Aldegonde. He himself had by this time repented of what he had done and recovered his temper, and greeted his wife with a voice and look which indicat<ed to her practised senses the favourable change.
'Bertha,' he said, *you know I did not mean anything personal to the Bishop in what I said. I do not like Bishops ; I think there is no use in them ; but I have no objection to him personally ; I think him an agreeable man ; not at all a bore. Just put it right. Bertha. But I tell you what, Bertha, I cannot go to church here. Lord Cul- lodon does not go, and he is a very reb'gious man. He is tho man I most agree with on these matters. I am a free
LOTH AIR.
3«
churcbomn, imd there is an end of it. I cannot go tbis ^tfuTTiiKiii. I do not spprove of the wbole thing. It is altogether against mj conscience. What I mean to do, if I can manage it, is t«i take a real long walk with the Cikm
]ltra. Compian nppeared at lanobeon. The Bishop was Attentive to bcr ; oven cordial. Ue was resolved she sbonid not feel he was annoyed by ber not having been a member of his congregation in the morning. Lady Cori- oande too had said to him, ' I wish so much yon would talk to Mrs. Campian ; eho is a sweet, noble creature, and clever ! I feel that she might be brought to view things the right light.'
know,' said the Bishop, ' how to deal with these irican ladies. I never can make out what they belief e, or what they disbelieve. It is a sort of confusion between Mrs, Beecber Stowe and the Fifth Avenne congregation »ud Bamum,' he added with a twinkling eye.
The second service was late ; the Dean preached. The
lateness of the hour permitted the Lord Lieutenant and
thoae guests who had arrived only the previous dny to look
the caatio, or ramble about the gardens. St. Alde-
ide sncceeded in his scheme of a real long walk with the
ipions, which Lotlmir, b^und to listen to the head of
illege, was not permitted to share.
In the evening Signer Mardoui, who had arrived, and
Madame Isola IJuila favoured them with what they called
principally prayers from operas and a grand
ibnt Mater.
Lord Culluden invited Lothair into a further saloon, 'here they might speak without disturbing ihe performera the ar.dienco.
I'll jnst take advantage, my dear boy,' said Lord Cullo- , in a tone of unnsuul tondemesa, and of Doric accent, the absence of those gentlemen to have a UttJe quiet
^^Entei
^Ed<
246 LOTH AIR.
oonversatdon with you. Thon^h I have not seen so mach of you of late as in old days, I take a great interest in yon, DO doubt of that, and I was very pleased to see how good- natnred you were to the girls. Yon have romped with them when they were little ones. Now, in a few hoorSi yon will be master of a great inheritance, and I hope it will profit ye. I have been over the accounts with Mr. Giles, and I was pleased to hear that you had made your- self properly acquainted with them in detail Never you sign any paper without reading it first, and knowing well what it means. You will have to sign a release to us if you be satisfied, and that you may easily be. My poor brother-in.lavv left you as large an income as may be found on this side Trent, but I will be bound he would stare if he saw the total of the whole of your rentroll, Lothair. Your afiairs have been well administered, though I say it who ought not. But it is not my management only, or principally, that has done it. It is the progress of the country, and you owe the country a good deal, and yon should never forget you are bom to be a protector of its liberties, civil and religious. And if the country sticks to free trade, and would enlarge its currency, and be firm to the Protestant faith, it will, under Divine Providence, oon- tinue to progress.
* And here, my boy, I'll just say a word, in no disagree- able manner, about your religious principles. There are a gfreat many stories about, and perhaps they are not true, and I am sure I hope they are not. If Popery were only just the sign of the cross, and music, and censer-pots, though I think them all superstitious, I'd be free to leave them alone if they would leave me. But Popery is a much deeper thing than that, Lothair, and our &thers found it out. They could not stand it, and we should be a craven crew to stand it now. A man should be master in his own house. You will be taking a wife some day ; at least it is to be hoped
Bi and bow will joa like one of theae llonsignoraa to be Uking into her bedroom, eh; o.nd talking to her alone sea, and vrhere lie pleases ; and when yon want to coQsalt yonr wife, which a. wise man shoald ol>«n do, to find there is another mind between hers fttid yours ? There's •"y gif's, they are jnst two young goeno, and they have u hankering after Popery, having had a Jesuit in the honne J do not know what has come to the women. They are for ling into a convent, and they are quite right in that, for they be Papists they will not lind a husband easily in illand, I neen.
And as for yon, my boy, they will be telling yon that it ia only jnst this and just that, and there's no great diS'er- ence, tuid what not ; but I tell you that if once you embrace the scarlet lady, you are a tainted corpse. You'll not be able to order your dinner without a priest, and they will ride your best horses without saying with your leave or by
yoc
•tea
The concert in time ceased ; there was a sti^ in the room ; the Rev. Dionysius Smyhe moveil about mysteriouHly, and nltimatcly eecmod to make an obuiaance before the Bishop,
I was time for prayers. ' Shall yon go P ' said Lord St. Aldegondo to Mrs. Com- B, by whom he was sitting. 'I like to pray alone,' she answered. 'As for that,' said St. Aldegonde, 'I am not clear wq ^ht to pray at all ; either in public or private. It seems y arrogant In us to dictate to an all- wise Creator what WB desire.'
' I believe in the efficacy of prayer," said Theodora. ' And I believe in yo'i,' said St. Aldegonde, after a ma- in tary pause.
KKnlu;
248 LOTH AIR.
CHAPTER XLVir.
On tlie morrow, the early celebration in tlie chapel w nuxneronslj attended. The Duchess and her danghters, Lady Agramont, and Mrs. Ardenne were among the fluth- fnl ; but what encouraged and gratified the Bishop was, that the laymen, on whom he less relied, were nmnerously i^epresented. The Lord Lieutenant, Lord Carisbrooke, Lord ^lontairy, Bertram, and Hago Bohnn accompanied Lothair to the altar.
After the celebration, Lothair retired to his private apart- ments. It was arranged that he was to join his assembled friends at noon, when he would receive their congratula- tions, and some deputations from the county.
At noon, therefore, preparatively preceded by Mr. Put- ney Giles, whose thought was never a«leep, and whose eye was on everything, the guardians, the Cardinal and the Earl of Culloden, waited on Lothair to accompany him to his assembled friends, and, as it were, launch him into the world.
They were assembled at one end of the chief gallery, and in a circle. Although the deputations would have to ad- vance the whole length of the chamber, Lothair and his guardians entered from a side apartment. Even with this assistance he fblt very nervous. There was no lack of feel- ing, and, among many, of deep feeling, on this occasion, bui there was an equal and a genuine exhibition of cere- mony.
The Lord Lieutenant was the first person who congratu- lated Lothair, though the High Sheriflf had pushed forward for that purpose, but, in his awkward precipitation, he got involved with the train of the Honorable Lady Clotworthy,
LOTH AIR.
349
D bestowed on bim mch a witbuHng g!ince, that he felt P Touted mftn, and gave np the attempt. There wore many ind and Bume earnest words. Even St. AMegonde ao- Icnowledgrd the genius of the occasion. He was grave, grace^l, and dig-nified, and addressing Lothair by hia title li(> Baid, ' that be hoped he noalil meet in life that happiness ■A'liich he felt confident be dcsei'ved.' Theodora said no- thing, tiioogh her lips Beemed once to move ; biit she re- t&ined for a moment Lothair's band, and the expression of her conntenance toncbed his innermost heart. Ladj Con- flande beamed with daaailing heanty. Her conntenanoe was JOTOHS. radiant ; her mien imperial and triumphant. She ^^nve her linnd with graeeful alacrity to Lothair, and said in ^^B hUBhed tone, hat every word of wbioh reached his ear, ^^POne of the happiest hours of my life was eight o'clock this )' morning.'
The Lord Lieutenant and the oonntj members then re- nted to the otlier end of the gallery, and ushered in the deputation of the magistracy of the county, congratulating their new brother, for Lotbair bad just beeo appointed to Uie bench, on his aeceesion to bin estates. The Lord Lieu- jnant himself rend the Fiddi-css, to which Lotbair replied hrith A propriety all acknowledged. Then came the address t the Mayor and Corporation of Grandchf-Ktcr, of ■which ity Lothair wus hereditary high sten'ard ; and then that of ) tenantry, which waa cordial and characteristic. And e mikny were under the impression that tliia portion of B proceedings would terminate ; but it was not so. There i been some whispering between the Bishop and the rchdeacon, and the Rev. Dionysins Smylie bad, afler inference with bis superiors, twice left the chamber. It 9 that the ck-rgy had thought fit to take Ibis occasion f congmtnlating Lothair on his great accession, and the mportiunale duties which it would fall on him to liilSl. ) Bishop approached Ijothnir and adilreswd him in a
250 LOTH AIR.
whisper. Lothair seemed sarpri.sed and a Utile agitated, but apparently bowed assent. Then the Bishop and his staff proceeded to the end of the gallery and introduced a diocesan deputation, consisting of archdeacons and rural deans, who presented to Lothair a most uncompromising Bxldress, and begged his acceptance of a bible and prayer- book richly bound, and borne by the Bev. Dionysius Smylie on a cushion of velvet.
The habitual pallor of the Cardinal's countenance became unusually wan ; the cheek of Clare Arundel was a crimson flush ; MonsignoreCatesby bit his lip ; Theodora looked with curious seriousness as if she were observing the manners of a foreigpi country ; St. Aldegonde snorted and pushed his hand through his hair, which had been arranged in unusual order. The great body of those present, unaware that this deputation was unexpected, were unmoved.
It was a trial for Lothair, and scarcely a fair one. He was not unequal to it, and what he said was esteemed at the moment by all parties as satisfactory ; though the Arch- deacon in secret conclave afterwards observed, that he dwelt more on Religion than on the Church, and spoke of the Church of Christ and not of the Church of England. He thanked them for their present of volumes which all must reverence or respect.
While all this was taking place within the Towers, vast bodies of people were assembling without. Besides the notables of the county and his tenantry and their families, which drained all the neighbouring villages, Lothair had forwarded several thousand tickets to the Mayor and Cor- poration of Grandchester, for distribution among their fellow-townsmen, who were invited to dine at Muriel and partake of the festivities of the day, and trains were hourly arriving with their eager and happy guests. The gardens were at once open for their unrestricted pleasure, but at two o'clock, according to the custom of the county undor
LOTH AIR.
as I
eccfa circumstancea, Iiothair litid what iu fact was a leree, or rather a. drBwing.room, when every pereon who pos- Sexwd It ticket was permitted, and even invited and ex- prctcd, to pass through the wbole ratige of the state apart. 8 of Muriel Towers, and at the earae time pay their a to, and make the acquaintance of, their lord. I Loliiair stood with his ohief frieiids near him, the ladies r Beat«d, and evsryOQe pasxed : farmers and towns- and honest folic down to the stokers of the trains I Grandchester, with whose presence St. Aldegonde I mnch pleased, and whom he carefully addressed as Bipy passed by.
\ After this great reception lliey nil (lined in parilionti in > park : one thousand tenantry by themselves and at a pxed hoQr; the miscellaneoun multJCuile in a hnge crimsan tent, very iofty, with many Rags, and in which waa served a banquet that neTcr stopped till sunset, so that in time all might he satisfied ; the notables and deputations, with Uie g'nests in the bouse, lunched in the armoury. It was i bright day, and there was unceasing muBic, I In the course of the afternoon, Lothair visited the } his health was proposed and pledged, in e first by one of his tenants, and in the other by a work- I, both orators of repute ; and ho addressed and thanked B friends. This immense multitude, orderly and joyous, Mmeit about the parks and gardens, or danced on a plnt- D which the prescient experioce of Mr. Giles had pro- pidt^il for them in a dae tneahty, and whiled away tlio |pltaKaiit hours, in expectation a little feverish of the jm- ^Ddin^ fireworkn, which, there was a rumour, were to be stylo of which neither Grandchester nor tlie county had any tradition.
* I remember yonr words at Blenheim,' said Lothair to Theodora. ' You cannot say the present party is fotmdod a the principle of exclusiou.'
^BlUi the princ
2 52 LOTH AIR.
In the meantime, about six o'clock, Lcihair dined in his great hall with his two hundred guests at a banquet where all the resources of nature and art seemed called npon to contribute to its luxury and splendour. The ladies who oad never before dined at a public dinner were particularlj delighted. They were delighted by the speechee, though they had very few ; they were delighted by the national anthem, all rising; particularly they were delighted by ^ three times three and one cheer more,' and ' hip, hip.' It seemed to their unpractised ears like a great naval battle, or the end of the world, or anything else of unimaginable excitement, tumult, and confusion.
The Lord Lieutenant proposed Lothair's health, and dexterously made his comparative igpiorance of the subject the cause of his attt^mpting a sketch of what he hoped miglit be the character of the person whose health he pro- posed. Everyone intuitively felt the resemblance was just and even complete, and Lothair confirmed their kind and san^ine anticipations by his terse and well-oonsidered reply. His proposition of the ladies' healths was a signal that the carriages were ready to take them, as arranged, to Muriel Mere.
The sun had set in glory over the broad expanse of waters still glowing in the dying beam ; the people were assembled in thousands on the borders of the lake, in the centre of which was an island with a pavilion. Fanciful barges and gondolas of various shapes and colours were waiting for Lothair and his party, to carry them over to the pavilion, where they found a repast which became the hour and the scene : cofice and ices and whimsical drinks, which sultanas would sip in Arabian tales. No sooner were they seated than the sound of music was heard, dis- tant, but now nearer, till there came floating on the lake, outil it rested before the pavilion, a gigantic shell, larger
LOTHAIR. a;3
tlum tlio building xtseli, but holdiug in its goldeo eliiiI opal KHta Signor MftrdDiii and all bis orchestra. _ Then va,me a. conuerl rare in itHelf, aud ravishing in the ▼ twilight; and in fiWnL half an huur, when the rosy flight biwl subsided into e. violet eve, and wlion the while MQ that had only Ufliiumpd began to glitter, the coJossiU II agBin moved un, and Lothtiir and his conipunionB em- 4ctiig once more in tbcir gondolas, followed it in proces- 1 about the lake. He ciirriwi in his own barque the , The4>dDra, and the Lord Lientenant, and was iwod hy a crew in Venetian dressea. As he handod Theo- 1 her scat the inipalse was irresistible: be pi-essed r fannil to his lips. B'Baddi^nly a rocket rose with a hissing rash ^m the nrilion, It was instantly responded to from every quarter |Fthe lake. Then the island seemed on fire, and the scone r late festivity became a brilliant palnoc, with pedi- •niH and colamns and statues, bright in the blaze of Imired flame. For half an honr the sky seemed covered e lights and the bursting forms of many-coloured cttdcD fountains, like tlie eruption of a marine vol- % from diSerent parts of the water ; the statned ti the island changed and became a forest glowing b green light ; and finally a temple of cerulean tint, on bich appeared ill huge letters of prismatic colour the e of Lothair.
I TliB people ciieored, but oven the voice of the people waa rcrcome by troops ofrockcte rising from every quarter of fllake, and by the thunder of artillery. When the noise ] thu smoke had both snbsided, the name of Lothair still Hlble OU the temple but the letters quite white, it was ived that on every height for fifty miles round they d li) od a beacon.
254 LOTHAIR.
CHAPTER XLVm.
Thb ball at Mariel which followed the concert on the lake was one of those balls which, it would seem, never would end. All the preliminary festivities, instead of exhausting the guests of Lothair, appeared only to have excited them, and rendered them more romantic and less tolerant of the routine of existence. They danced in the great gallery, which was brilliant and cix)wded, and they danced as they dance in a festive dream, with joy and the enthusiasm of gaiety. The fine ladies would sanction no exclusiveness. They did not confine their inspiring society, as is some- times too oflen the case, to the Brecons and the Bertrams and the Carisbrookes ; they danced {al\y and freely with the youth of the county, and felt that in so doing they were honouring and gratifying their host.
At one o'clock they supped in the armoury, which was illuminated for the first time, and a banquet in a scene so picturesque and resplendent renovated not merely their physical energies. At four o'clock the Duchess and a few others quietly disappeared, but her daughters remained, and St. Aldcgonde danced endless reels, which was a form in which he preferred to worship Terpsichore. Perceiving by an open window that it was dawn, he came up to Lothair and said, ' This is a case of breakfast.'
Happy and frolicsome suggestion ! The invitations cir- culated, and it was soon known that they were all to gather at the matin meal.
' I am BO sorry that her Grace has retired,* said Hugo Bohun to Lady St. Aldegonde, as he fed her with bread and butter, * because she always likes early breakfasts in the country.'
LOTH AIR.
ass
Tho sun was sliioiiig as the gneats of the house reiirud, Kud sank into soachi^a from which it eeemed tLey never ccnld rise agftin ; bnt, long after this, ibe shouts of servants Kcd the RcnlHe of carringi^s intimated that the company in geoeml wei« not so fortunate and expeditious in their re- tiremeiit from the Bcone ; and the Helda were all busy, and eren the towus awake, when the great body of Uie wearied but delighted wassajlers returned from celebrating the majority of Lothair.
In tlie vast and atat^smatililre programnio of the festivi- ties of the week, which had been prepared by Mr. and M:'S. Putney Giles, aomething of interest and importance had been appropriated to the morrow, but it waa necessary to erase all this ; and for a eimple reason : no human being on tho mon-ow mom even appeared; one might say, even Stirred. After all the gay tumult in which even thousands hud joined, Uuiie! Towers on the morrow presented a Kcciie which only eould have been equalled by the castle in the ftiry tale inhabited by the Sleeping Beanty.
At length, about two hoars after noon, bells began to ■onnd which were not always answered. Then a languid boaaohold prepared a meal of nliicb no one for a time ptir- touk, till at lost a Jlonsignove appeared and a rival AngUcsin OP two, TliCD St. Aldcgonde came in with a troop of men who had been bathing in the mere, and called loudly for kidneys, which happened to bo tho only thing not at hand, S!i ia always the case. St. Aldegonde always required kid. neys when he had sate up all night and bathed. ' But the odd thing is,' be said, 'you never can get anything to eat in these houses. Their infernal cooks eixiil everything. That ts why I hntu staying with Bertha's people in the north at the end of the year. What 1 want in November a t. slice of cod and a. beefs<«ak, and by Jove I never could got them : 1 was obliged to come to town. It is no joke to hava to travel thi'ee huiulred miles for a slice of cod iLod & banrstcuk.*
256 LOTHAIR.
Notwithstanding all tkis, however, such is the magio of custom, that by snnset civilisation had resumed its reign at* Muriel Towers. The party were assembled before dinner in the saloon, and really looked as fresh and bright as if tiie exhausting and tumultuous yesterday had never happened. The dinner, too, notwithstanding the criticism of St. Alde- gonde, was first-rate, and pleased palates not so simply fastidious as his own. The Bishop and his suite were to depart on the morrow, but the Cardinal was to remain. His Eminence talked much to Mrs. Campian, by whom, from the first, he was much struck. He was aware that she was bom a Roman, and was not surprised that, having married a citizen of the United States, her sympathies were what are styled liberal ; but this only stimulated his anxious resolution to accomplish her conversion, both religious and political. He recognised in her a being whose intelligence, imagination, and grandeur of character might be of in- valuable service to the Church.
In the evening Monsieur Raphael and his sister, and their colleagues, gave a representation which was extremely well done. There was no theatre at Muriel, but Apollonia had felicitously arranged a contiguous saloon for the oc> casion, and, as everybody was at ease in an arm-chair, they all agreed it was preferable to a regular theatre.
On the morrow they were to lunch with the Mayor and Corporation of Grandchester and view some of the princi- pal factories ; on the next day the county gave a dinner to Lothair in their hall, the Lord Lieutenant in the chair ; on Friday there was to be a ball at Grandchester given by the county and city united to celebrate the great local event. It was whispered that this was to be a considerable afiair. There was not an hour of the week that was not appropriated to some festive ceremony.
It happened on the morning of Thursday, the Cardinal beine: alone with Lothair, tritnsactinfir some lineerinff buRi.
LOTH AIR.
=57
avftg connected with the guardianship, and on hia legs ss be s{>olEe, that he said, * We live id snch a happy tumult Let«, my dear child, that I have never had an opportuuitjr of •ip>-aking Id yon on one or two points which iiiWrest me and should DOl be uninteresting to yon. 1 remember a pleasant momirg-waUj we had in the park at Vauxe, wben we began a conTersation which we never &uif>hed. What say yon to a repetition of our stroll ? 'Tis a lovely day, and I dare say we might escape by this window, and ga.in some given retreat without anyone disturbing us,'
* I am quite of yoar Eminence's mtnd,' eaid Lothur, taking up a wide-awake, 'and I will lead you where it is not likely we shall be diHturbcd.'
So winding their way through the pleasure- grounds, thoy ^nt«rcd hy u wicket a part of the park where the sunny u wandered among the tall fern and wild groves If renerable oaks. '1 sotnettmes feel,' Miid the Cardinal, 'that T may have D too punctilious in avoiding conversation with yon on a t^ect the most interesting and important to man. Bat I It a delicacy in exerting my influence as a guftrdinu on a jq'eot my relations to which, wlicn your dear fiLthcr ap- inied. tue to that office, wei-e bo different from those which w exist. But yon are now year own master ; I can use Bcontml over yon but that influence which the words of ptli niust always exercise over an ingenuous mind."
a Eminence paused for a moment and looked at hii DpauJon ; but Lothotr remained silent, with hia eyes
i Dpon the ground. '* It has always been a source of aatisfiiction, I would ^■en say consolation, (o me/ reenmcd the Cardinal, 'tc
; that your disposition waa
rerereutial, which is the highest order of tempereiment, and bringB ns nearest to the angels. But we live in times of difficulty ftnd danger, extreme difficulty and danger: a
258 LOTH AIR.
roligions disposition maj snffice for youth in tlie tranquil hour, and he may 6nd, in due season, his appointed resting- place : hnt these are days of imminent peril ; the sool re- qoires a Ranctuary. Is yonrs at hand ? '
The Cardinal pansed, and Lothair was ohliged to meet a direct appeal. He said then, after a momentary hesitatioD, ' When yon last spoke to me, sir, on these grave matters, I said I was in a state of grt^t despondency. My situation now is not so much despondent as perplexed.*
* And I wish yon to tell me the nature of yonr perplexity,' replied the Cardinal, ' for there is no anxious embarrass- m(>nt of mind which Divine truth cannot disentangle and allav/
* Well,* said Lothair, ' I must say I am often perplexed nt the differences which obtrude themselves between Divins truth and human knowledge.*
* Those are inevitable,' said the Cardinal. * Divine truth being unclianjjeable, and human knowledge changing every century ; rather, I should say, every generation.'
' Perhaps, instead of human knowledge, I should have said human projrress,* rejoined Lothair.
* Exactly,' said the Cardinal ; * but what is progress ? Movement. But what if it be movement in the wrong direction ? WTiat if it be a departure from Divine truth ? *
* But I cannot understand why religion should be incon- sistent with civilisation,* said Lothair.
* Religion is civilisation,* said the Cardinal ; ' the highest: it is a reclamation of man from savageness by the Almighty What the world calls civilisation, as distinguished from religion, is a retrograde movement, and will ultimately lead us back to the barbarism from wliich we have escaped. For instance, you talk of progress ; what is the chief social movement of all the countries that three centuries jwejo separated from the unity of the Church of Clirist ? Tbo rejection of the sacrament of Christian matrimony. The
LOTH AIR.
3S9
>dDction of the Inw of dirnrce, wliicb is, in farl, only a
iaddle term to the abolition of marriaaie. What does that
The eitinction of the home and the honsehold on
J'hich God has rc<Rt«d ciiTlisation. If thorD be no home,
i child bclonpia to tlie Btate, not to the parent. Tlie
Itelo edncfttep tha child, and vrithout religion, hecanse tho
cimntry of progTBSa acknowledges no religion.
IT every man is not only to think aa ho likes, but to writo
I speak aa he likes, and to sow with both hands
nst where he will, errors, hcresiea, and blasphemies,
■llhcnit any authority cm earth to restrain the scnttering
:ed of Dniversal desolation. And thia STRtem,
(ihtch woald sabstitote for domestic sentiment and Divine
^lief the onlimif^ and licentiona action of hnraan int«U
t and human will, is called progress. What 13 it bnt a
reolt agiuRst God ! '
ire I wish there were only one Chnrch and on*
plijirion,' Raid Loth»ir.
'There is only one Charch Hud only o
Cardinal; 'all other forms and phn
I, without rftot, or sn balance, ■
wic at that nnhappy Germany, once so
teformatioii. What they call the leading journal tells na
p>daj, that it is a question there whether fonr-lifths or
^ree-fonrtlis of tho population believe in Christiaoity,
e jiHrtion of it hiLH already gone hack, I understand, to
jHcHBKtt Nip. Look at this unfortonatA land, divided, sub-
Btvided, par(«lled ont in infinite BchiMm. with new oraclea
l»ery day, and each more dist.inpuiahed for (he narrowness
if bis intcllec't or the loudness of his Inngs ; once the land
if mints and acholara, and people in pioua pilgrimages, and
Inding always nolaco and support in the divine offices of an
r-present Choreh, which were a true though a faint
B of llie boantifnl future that awaited matL Why, only
;nturiea of this rebellion against the Moat High
) religion,' i
coherency, irond of its
26o LOTHAIR,
have piodaced thronghont the world, on the subject the most important that man shonld possess a clear, firm faith, an anarchy of opinion throwing ont eyery monstrons and fantastic form, from a caricature of the Greek philosophy to a revival of Fetism.'
* It is a chaos,' said Lothair, with a sigh.
'From which I wish to save yon,' said the Cardinal, with some eagerness. 'This is not a time to hesitate. Yon most be for God, or for Antichrist. The Church calls npon her children.'
' I am not nnfaithfii] to the Chnrch,' said Lothair, ' which was the Chnrch of my fathers.'
* The Chnrch of England,' said the CardinaL ' It was mine. I think of it ever with tenderness and pity. I^fcr- 1 lament made the Church of England, and Parliament will nnmake the Church of England. The Church of England is not the Chnrch of the English. Its fiftte is sealed. It will soon become a sect, and all sects are fantastic. It will adopt new dogmas, or it will abjure old ones ; anything to disting^sh it from the non-conforming herd in which, nevertheless, it will be its fate to merge. The only con- soling hope is that, when it falls, many of its children, by the aid of the Blessed Virgin, may return to Christ.'
* What I regret, sir,' said Lothair, * is that the Chnrch of Rome should have placed itself in antagonism with political liberty. This adds to the difficulties which the religious cause has to encounter ; for it seems impossible to deny that political freedom is now the sovereign passion of communities.'
' I cannot admit,' replied the Cardinal, ' that the Church is in antagonism with political freedom. On the contrary, in my opinion, there can be no political freedom which is not founded on Divine authority ; otherwise it can be at the best but a specious phantom of license inevitably termina> ting in anarchy. The rights and liberties of the people of
LOTH AIR.
361
Ireland bare no odvocntos except the ChDrch ; beuauK tliere, political freodam is foanded on Divine aathoritj ; bot if yon mttaii by political fTcedom the echemea of the iltmuiimti and the frcemasooB which perpetually torture the Continent, all the dark coospirticic9 of the secret souieties, tberp, I admit, tbs Cbnrch ia in antagonism with anch Bspirations after liberty j those aapirationH, in fact, are blasphemy and plnndtr ; and if the Chnrch vrece to be destroyed, Europe woald be divided between the Athciat and the Commtiuist.'
There wns a paoao ; the convertiation had nnexpectodly arrived at a point where neither party cared to parsno it. Lotbair felt be had said enongh ; the Cardinal waa dis- appointed with what Lotbair had raiid. His Eminence felt that his late ward waa not in that ripe state of probation which be bad fondly anticipated ; bat being a man not only of vivid perception, bnt also of fertile resource, while he seemed to close the present conversation, ho almost immediately pursaed his ohject by anolhnr combination of inefuis. Noticing an effect of sccneiy which pleased him, renunded bim of Stjria, and eo on, he suddenly said: 'Too should travel."
' Well, Bertram wants mo to go to Egypt with him,' Wid Lotbair.
* A most interesting c rell worth viititinf^. It
d HerodotDB still is in
mething of Europe befor
itry,' said the Cardinal, ' and fltonishing what a good gnida : land ! But you should know you go there. Egypt ia rather lid visit the chief
^Lioflt
land to end with. A young t
ipitala of Europe, papecially the scats of [(■uruing and tbe If my advicp were asked by a young man who con- templated travelling on a proper scale, 1 should say begin with Rome. Almost all that Europe contains ia derived &om Rome, It is always best to go to the fountain-head, iO fltndy the ori^nTiaL The society too, thert^, is deli[;htfult
262 LOTH AIR.
I know none equal to it. That, if yon please, is civilisation, pion^ and refined. And the people, all so gifted and so good, so kind, so orderly, so charitable, so tmly ▼irtoons. I believe the Roman people to be the best people that ever lived, and this too while the secret societies have their foreign agents in every quarter, trying to corrupt them, but always in vain. If an act of political violence occurs, you may be sure it is confined entirely to foreigners.'
' Our friends the St Jeromes are going to Rome,' said Lothair.
I 'Well, and that would be pleasant for you. Think
I seriously of this, my dear young friend. I could be of I some little service to you if you go to Borne, which, after I all, every man ought to do. I could put you in the way of easily becoming acquainted with all the right people, who ' would take care that you saw Rome with profit and adf I vantage.'
I Just at this moment, in a winding glade, they were met
I abruptly by a third person. All seemed rather to start at the sudden rencounter ; and then Lothair eagerly advanced nnd welcomed the stranger with a profiered hand. ' ' This is a most unexpected, but to me most agreeable,
! meeting,' he said. ' Ton must now be my guest.* j ' That would be a great honour,' said the stranger, * but
j one I cannot enjoy. I had to wait at the station a couple of hours or so for my train, and they told me if I strolled here I should find some pretty country. I have been so pleased with it, that I fear I have strolled too long, and I literally have not an instant at my command,' and he hurried away.
* Who is that person f ' asked the Cardinal with some agitation.
*■ I have not the slightest idea,' said Lothair. * All I know is» ho once saved my life.'
LOTHAIR. 363
' And all I know is,' said the Cardinal, ' he otux thraatened mine.'
* StruDge ! ' MJd Lotliair, and then he mpidjy kvoudUkI to tho Cardinal hia adventure at the Fenian meeting.
' titrouge '. ' echoed his Eminence.
CHAPTER XLLS. Mrs. Campiak did not appear at lutichcon, which was ob- eervcd but not noticed. Afterwards, while Lothair was me arrangements Tor the amusomout of hia , and contriving thut the;^ i>bi)uld lit in with the bief incjdtnt of the day, which wa^ the bunc|aet given D bim by the vouuly, and whii:h it was settled the ladies were not to attend, the Colonel took him aside and said, ' I do not think that Theodora will care to go out to-day,' 'She it not unwell, I hope i' '
'Not exactly; but she bos bad some news, eome news of Bome friends, whiuh has disturbed her. And if you will excuse me, I will request your permiitsion not to attend tlie dinner to-dity, which I bad hoped to have had the honniiT of doing. Itul I think our plans must bo changed a Uttlo. 1 almost tliiiik we shall not go to Scotlaud after alL'
'Tbure is not the 8lij,'hte«t necessity for your going to the diancr. You will have plenty to keep you in couiil<3- 'lome. Lord St. Aldegoude is not going, nor 1 fiuioy any of them. I xball take the Duke with me and Lord Calloden, and if yon do not go, 1 shall take Mr. Putney Giles. The Lord Liontenant will meot us tliere, I am sorry about ^Irs. Campion, because 1 know slio is not Lrver put out by httle things. May I not see her in the jaorve of the d.iy P 1 should be very aurry that ihe day B<]|bould pass over without seeing hor,'
264 LOTH AIR.
^ Oh ! I dare say she will see jon in the course of the day, before jon go.'
' When she likes. I shall not go ont to-day ; I shall keep in my rooms, always at her commands. Between onrselyes I shall not be sorry to have a quiet morning and collect my ideas a little. Speech-making is a new thing for me. I wish yon would tell me what to say to the county.'
Lothair had appropriated to the Campians one of the most convenient and complete apartments in the castle. It consisted of four chambers, one of them a saloon which had been fitted up for his mother when she married ; a pretty saloon, hung with pale green silk, and portraits and scenes inlaid by Vanloo and Boacher. It was rather late in the aflemoou when Lothair received a message from Theodora in reply to the wish that he had expressed of seeing her.
When he entered the room she was not seated, her countenance was serious. She advanced, and thanked him for wishing to see her, and regretted she could not receive him at an earlier hour. ' I fear it may have inconvenienced you,' she added ; ' bat my mind has been much disturbed, and too agitated for conversation.'
* Even now I may be an intruder ? '
* No, it is past ; on the contrary, I wish to speak to you ; indeed, you are the only person with whom I could speak,' and she sate down.
Her countenance, which was unusually pale when he en- tered, became flushed. ' It is not a subject for the festive hour of your life,' she said, ' but I cannot resist my fate.'
* Your fate must always interest me,' murmured Lothair.
* Yes, but my fate is the fate of ages and of nations,' said Theodora, throwing up her head with that tumult of the brow which he had once before noticed. 'Amid the tortures of my spirit at this moment, not the least is that there is only one person I can appeal to, and he is one to whom I have no right to make that appeal.'
ri
LOTHAIR.
■If I bo ttat person,' eaid Lotliair, 'yon have every right, for I am devoted to yoo.'
*Tc8; bul it is not personal devotion that is the qnalifi- catioD needed. It ia not Bympathy with me that would aothonse euch an appeiil. It mnst be sytnpiithy with a oauae, and a citnse for which I fear yon do not, perhaps I should say yon cannot, foet.'
• Wby P ■ said Lothair,
' Wby fihonld yon feel for my fallen conntry, who are the proudest citizen of the proudest of lands ? Why shoiild yoo feel for its debasing thraldom, yon who, in the rehgiona mystification of man. Lave at least the noble privile^^e of being a Prot«8tant ? '
' YoQ Bpeak of Rome ? '
' Yes, of the only thought I have or ever had. I apeak of tJiai country which first impressed upon the world a fi^eiieral and enduring form of masculine virtue ; the land of liberty, and law, and eloqoence, and military genius, n garrisoned by monka and governed by a doting priest,'
' Everybody must bo intereatud about Rome,' said Lothair- ' Rome ia the country of the world, and even tha doling priest you talk of boasts of two hundred millions of subjeotB.'
' If he were at Avignon again, I should Dot care for his boasts,' said Theodora. * I do not gr^dga him hia spiritual snbjecta ; I am content to leave his Bupcr^tition to Time. Time is no longer slow; hie scythe mowa quickly in this age. Bal when his debasing creeds are palmed oS on man by the authority of our glorious Capitol, and the slavery of the human mind is schemed and carried on in the Fomm, then, if there be real Roman blood left, and 1 thank my Creator there b much, it is time for it to mount ftud move,' and she rose and walked up and down the
' Toil have hud news from Rome P ' said Lothair.
I
266 LOTH AIR.
'I have had news from Rome,' she replied, speakiiig slowly in a deep voice. And there was a pause.
Then Lothair said, 'When yon have alluded to these matters before, you never spoke of them in a sanguine spirit.'
' I have seen the cause triumph,' said Theodora ; * tlie sacred cause of truth, of justice, of national honour. I have sate at the feet of the triumvirate of the Roman Republic: men who for virtue, and genius, and warlike skill and valour, and every quality that exalts man, were never surpassed in the olden time ; no, not by the Gates and the Scipios ; and I have seen the blood of my own race poured like a rich vintage on the victorious Roman soiL My father fell, who in stature and in mien was a god ; and, since then, my beautiful brothers, with shapes to enshrine in temples ; and I have smiled amid the slaughter of my race, for I bi'lieved that Rome was free ; and yet all this vanished. How then, when we talked, could I be sanguine?'
* And yet you are sanguine now ? ' said Lothair, with a scrutinising glance, and he rose and joined her, leaning slightly on tlie mantelpiece.
' There was only one event that could secure the success of our efl'orts,' said Theodora, ' and that event was so im- probable that I had long rejected it &om calculation. It has happened, and Rome calls upon me to act.'
*The Papalini are strong,* continued Theodora afler a pause ; * they have been long preparing for the French evacuation ; they have a considerable and disciplined force of Janissaries, a powerful artillery, the strong places of the city. The result of a rising under such circumstances might be more than doubtful ; if unsuccessful, to us it would be disastrous. It is necessary that the Roman States should be invaded, and the Papal army must then quit their capiud. We have no fear of them in the field. Yea,'
LOTHAIR.
36? J
:> could sweep them trom tlie 1 viU tliat be 'l
she addfd with energy, ' fkce of tho earth ! '
' Bat the ami; of lUJj,' sud Lotlmlr, inert ? '
* There it is,' said Theodora. * That has been Ktcmibliug-blook. 1 Lave always known tLat if ever FiviiL'h quitted Rome it would be ou tlie underHtaridinj^ that tbu house of Sitvoy shoold iiiberit llie uohle oSice ui ■(.■coring our servitude. He in whom I alouo confide would never credit thia, but my information in thin respecl was authentic. However, it is no longer nece^sai-y to discuss the question. News has come, and in no uncertain ihape, that whatever may have been the uuderHtaudiug, onder no circumsiaiices will tlie Italian army ent«r ths Roman States. We meat etrike, therefore, aud Rome will bo free Bat how am 1 tu elriko P We have neither money nor arms. We have only nien. I can give them no more, because I hiivo already given them erorything oxecpt my lii'e, which iii always theirs. As for my husband, who, 1 may say, wedded me on the battle-field, ma far as woallh was concerned he was then a priiii^e among pnnces, and wotild poor foi-th his treasure and his life with eijoal eagoniuss. But things have changed since Aspro- tnoiit*. The sti-iiggle in his own country has entirely i drprivcd him of revenues as great aa any forfeited by their luJian princehngs. In fact it is only by a chance that be ix independent. Had it not been for au excellent man, one «f your great English merchants, who was his agent hers and mannf^-d his atTairs, we should have been penniless. His judicious inveKtnicnts of the superfluity of our iu- comu, which at the time my husband never even noticed, have secured for Colonel Campian the mcana of that decorous life which he appji-clates, bnt no moi-e. As for myself these considerations are nothing. I will not say I Bhonld he insensible to u letinud hf'u with rellni
268 LOTHAIR.
panioni, if the spirit were content and the heart aereiie,' bat 1 never conld fully realise the abstract idea of what they call wealth ; I never conld look upon it except as a means to an end, and my end has generally been military materiaL Perhaps the vicissitudes of my life have made me insensible to what are caUed reverses of fortune, for when a child I remember sleeping on the moonlit flags of Paris, with no pillow except my tambourine, and I remember it not without delight. Let us sit down. I feel I am talking in an excited, injudicious, egotistical, rhap- sodical manner. I thought I was calm and I meant to have been clear^ But the fact is I am ashamed of myaelC I am doing a wrong thing and in a wrong manner. Bat I have had a sleepless night and a day of brooding thought. I meant once to have asked you to help me, and now I feel that you are the last person to whom I ought to appeal.'
*ln that you are in error,' said Lothair rising and taking her hand with an expression of much g^vity ; * I am the right person for you to appeal to, the only person.'
* Nay,' said Theodora, and she shook her head.
*For I owe to you a debt that I never can repay,' continued Lothair. 'Had it not been for you, I should have remained what I was when we first met, a prejudiced, narrow-minded being, with contracted sympathies and fiilse knowledge, wasting my life on obsolete trifles, and utterly insensible to the privilege of living in this wondrous age of change and progress. Why, had it not been for you I should have at this very moment been lavishing my fortune on an ecclesiastical toy, which I think of with a blush. There may be, doubtless there are, opinions in which we may not agree ; but in our love of truth and justice there is no difierence, dearest lady. No ; though you must have felt tliat I am not, that no one oould be^
LOTH AIR. 369
iusenirible to yoni beautj and iiiGnite cliarmB, still it is yocr consnuunftle character that baa jnstly faecinatod mj thonght and heart; and I have long reaolved, were I permitted, to duvote to jon mj fortnne and my life.'
CHAPTER L.
Thb month of Septflmbcr was considerably advanced, when B rnh, evidently from ita luggage fresh from the railway, nntered the conrtyard of Heibam House, of which the shattered windows indicated the absence of its master, the Cardinal, then in Italy. But it was evident that tha person who had arrived was expected, for before his servant could ring the hall bell the door opened, and a grave- looking doraestio advanced with much deference, and awaited the presence of no less a personage than MonKignore Berwick,
'We have had a rough passage, good CliBbrd,' said the great man, alighting. * but I see you duly received my telegram. Yon are alwaya ready.'
' I hope my Lord will find it not nn comfortable," said Clifford. ' I have prepared the little suite which yon mentioned, and have been carefol that there should be no ontward aign of anyone having arrived.'
'And now,' said the Monsignore, stopping for a moment in tbe ball, 'hero ia a letter which mnat be instantly de- livered and by a trusty hand,* and he gave it to Ur. Cbfford, who, looking at the direction, nodded his head and Boid, ■ By no one but myself I will show my Lord to hia rooiDB, and depart with this instantly.'
' And bring back a reply,' added the Monsignore,
The well-lit room, the oheerful fire, the judicious refec- tion on a side table, were all circumstances which oiually
^^ tion on a
270 LOTHAIR.
would bava been agreeable to a wearied traveller, boi Monsignore Berwick seemed little to regard ihem. Thoogh a man in general ffoperior to care and master of thonght, hi^ connienance was trembled and pensive even to de- jection.
' Eren tbe winds and waves are against ns,* he exclaimed, too restless to be seated, and walking np and down tbe room with his arms behind his back. * That snch a straggle should fall to mj lot ! Why was I not a minister in the days of the Gregoija, the Innocents, even the Leos ! But this is craren. There shonld be inspiration in peril, and the g^reatest where peril is extreme. I am a Uttle npset with travel and the voyage and those telegrams not being answered. The good ClifiTord was wisely provident,* and lie approached the table and took one glass of wine. ' Gtx>d ! One must never despair in such a cause. And if the worse happens, it has happened before : and what then ? Suppose Avignon over again, or even Gaeta, or even Paris ? So long as we never relinquish our title to the Eternal City we shall be eternal. But then, some say, our enemies before were the sovereigns ; now it is the people. Is it so ? True we have vacquished kings and baffled emperors ; but the French Republic and the Roman Republic have alike reigned and ruled in the Vatican, and where are they? We have lost provinces, but we have also gained them. W« have twelve millions of subjects in the United States of An erica, and they will increase like the sands of the sea. St 11 it is a hideous thing to have come back, as it were, to th< days of the Constable of Bourbon, and to be contem- plating the siege of the Holy See, and massacre and pillage and ineffable horrors ! The Papacy may survive such cala- mities, as it undoubtedly will, but I shall scarcely figure in history if under my influence such visitations should accrue. If I had only to deal with men I would not admit of failore ; but when your antagoni(;t8 are human thoughts, represented
LOTHAIR. 271
hv invinible powers, there is Botnethmg tbat might baUIn a Machiavel and app^l a Borgia.'
While he was meditating in this vein tho door opened, anil Mr. Clifibrd with some hasty action and speaking ra|iid!y esclftimed,
' He aaid he wonid he here sooner than myself. His pftrriapo was at the door. I drive hack as fast aa possihie ; and indeed I hn&F something now in the court,' and he dimppeored.
It wna only to nshor in, almost imroediately, a stately pirrsonage in on evening dress, and neariog a decoration of a high olaas, who saluted the MoDsignoro with great cordiality.
'I am engnj;cd lo dine with the Pmssinu Ambassador, who has been obliged to come to town to receive a prince of the blood who is visiting tho dockyards here ; but I thought yon might he la.i«r than you cipecttd, and I ordered my carriage to be in waiting, so that wo have a good little hour, and I can come on to you again aflerwarda if that will not do.'
'A little hour with ns is a long hour with other people, said tlie Monsignora, 'hecau.se we are Iriciida aud can Bpeab without windings. Yon are a tme friend to the Holy See; yon have proved it. We are in great trouble and need of aid."
' I hear that things are uot altogether as we could wish,' said the gontlemiin in an evening dreas; ' but 1 hope, and slionld think, only annoyances.'
' Dangers,' said Berwick, ' and great,'
'How so?'
' Well, wc have invasion threatening tia without and in- Bttrrection within,' naid Berwick. ' We might, thongh it is dosbtfol, BuccessftiUy encounter one of these perils, bnt their nnited action must be fatal.'
■AH tliishaseotoe suddenly,' smd the gontlcnuin- 'Id
LOTH AIR.
ttie twiBinfr yon bad no fear, and our people wrote to us thai we might be perfectly tranquiL'
* Just so,* said Berwick. * If we bad met a month ago I should bare told jon the same thing. A month ago the rerolution seemed lifeless, penniless; without a fntare, withoat a resooroe. They had no money, no credit, no men. At present, qnietly hot regalarly, they are assembling by thonaands on oar firontiers; they have to onr knowledge received two large consignments of small arms, and ap- parently have unlimited credit with the trade, both in Birmingham and Li^ge ; they have even artillery ; every- thing is paid for in coin or in good bills ; and, worst of all, they have a man, the most consummate soldier in Europe. I thought he was at New York, and was in hopes he would never have rccrossed the Atlantic; but I know that he passed through Florence a fortnight ago, and I have seen a man who says he spoke to him at Nami.'
*The Italian government must stop all this,' said the gentleman.
' They do not stop it,' said Berwick. • The government of his Holiness has made every representation to them: we have placed in their hands indubitable evidence of the illegal proceedings that are taking place and of the in- ternal dangers we experience in consequence of their exterior movements. But they do nothing: it is even believed that the royal troops are joining the insurgents, and Oaribaldi is spouting with impunity in every balcony of Florence.'
* You may depend upon it that our government is making strong representations to the government of Florence.'
* I come from Paris and elsewhere,' said Berwick with animation and perhaps a degree of impatience. 'I have seen everybody there, and I have heard everything. It ia not representations that are wanted from your govemmout; it is something of a different kind.'
LOTH AIR.
=73
' But if yon huTe seen vmryhoAj »X P»rit and barl eveTTtliing, tiow can 1 help yOD ? '
' Bj acting npoa the goTemmeot here. A word bcna joo to the Eiigliah Minister would li»Te great wei^rht at tfaia jiincrtiire. Queen Victoria Ja interested in the maiDtcnaBce <if the Papiil throne. Ber Catholic snbjeda are connted by millions. The icQaeDCC of his IloUness baa hcea hitherto exercised against th« Fenians. Praace would interfera if ahu wtis sure the step would not be disapprorcd by England.'
■ Interfere ! ' said the geatleman. ' Oor retnm to Botne nlmost before we hare paid onr laandresaea' bills in the Eiemal City would be a diplomatic Bcandal.*
' A diplomatic scandal would be preferablu to a European reroloiion.'
' Sii|ipose we wore to have both ? ' and the gmtlemsn drew his chair near the tire.
' 1 atn convinced that a want of firmness now,' Raid Ber- ■KicV, ' woald li>ad to iucouccirablo calamities for aJI of os.'
' Let ns nnderstand each other, my very dear friend Berwick,' said his companion, and be threw bis arm over the hack of his chair and looked the Boman full in his &oe. * Yon say yon bave been at Pans and elsewhere, and have seen everybody and heard eveiythicg.'
' Something bas happened to ns also dnring the lost month, and as oneipectudly as to yonrselvee.'
* Tbe secret societjes P Yes, lie spoke to me od that roiy point, and fally. 'Tis strange, but is only, in my opinion, as additional argument in favour of crushing the evil inSnenoe.'
' Well, that be mast decide. But the facts are Rtartling, A month ago the secret SDcieties in France were only a name ; they existed only in the tncniory of the police, and almost as a tradition. At present wo know that they am in complete organisation, and what is most strange is, that ti>« prefects vriUi they have informaUou that the Mary-
274 LOTH AIR.
Anne associations, which are essentially republican and ai^ Bcattorcd about the provinces, are all revived and are astir. l^LkRT-ANif E, as you know, was the red name for the Republic years ago, and there always was a sort of myth that these societies had been founded by a woman. Of course that is all nonsense, but they keep it up ; it afiects (he public imagination, and my government has ondonbted evidence that the word of command has gone round to all these societies that Mary- Anne has returned and will issue her orders, which must be obeyed.'
' The Church is stronger, and especially in the provinces, than the Mary-Anne societies,' said Berwick.
* I hope so,' said his friend ; • but you see, my dear Mon- fdprnorc, the question with us is not so simple as you put it^ The secret societies will not tolerate another Roman inter- ference, to say nothing of the diplomatic hubbub, which we might, if necessary, defy ; but what if, taking advantage of the general indignation, your new kingdom of Italy may seize the golden opportunity of making a popular reputation, and declare herself the champion of national independence against the interference of the foreigner ? My friend, we tread on delicate ground.'
* If Rome falls, not an existing dynasty in Europe will survive five years,' said Berwick.
* It may bo so,' said his companion, but with no expres- sion of incredulity. 'You know how consistently and anxiously I have always laboured to support the authority of the Holy See, and to maintain its territorial position as the guarantee of its independence; but fate has decided against us. I cannot indulge in the belief that his Holi- ness will ever regain his lost provinces ; a capital without a country is an apparent anomaly, which I fear wiU ahvays embaiTuss us. We can treat the possession as the capital of Christendom, but, alas! all the world are not as good Christians as ourselves, and Christendom is a country zx)
LOTH AIR.
^7S
longer ourked out in the mnp of the world. I wish,' contiiined the gentleman in a tone almost ooaziag. ' I wish iv« could devise some plan wliich, bnmanlj speaking, would secnre to his Ealiness the possession of his eartlity throne for ever. I wish I could induce you to conaider more fiivonrfibly that snggestian, that his Holiness should con- trnt himself with the ancient city, and, in possession of St. Peter's nnd the Vatican, leave the rest of Rome to the vulgar cores and tlie mandane nnsieties of the ti-ansient generation. Yea," he added with energy, 'if, my do.ti Berwick, you could see your way to thig, or something hko ihia, I think, even now and at once, I could ventni-e to undertnke that the Emperor, my master, would soon put an
end to all these disturhances and dangers, and that *
'Non posEnmns,' said Bervrick, sternly stopping him, 'sooner than that Altiln, the Constable of Bowbon, or ths blnsphemoiiB oi^es of the Red Repnblic ! After all, it is the Charcli against the Hecrct societiua. They are the only two strong things in Europe, and will survive kings, era- perors, or parliaments.'
At this moment there was a tnp at the door, and, bidden
to enter, Mr. Cliil'ord preseutod himself with a sealed papec
for the gentleman in evening dress, ' Your secretary, sir,
brought this, which he said mast be givoc yon before you
^L went to the Ambassador.'
^1 ' 'Tis well,' said the gentlcn-an, and he rose, and with a. ^^h wnntenanec of some excitement road the paper, which oon- ^^B^uned a telegram; and then he xaid, ' This, I think, will ^^^HluIp ua oot of oar immediato difficulties, my dear Monsig' ^^^TBOre. Rattazd haa behaved like n man of sense, and has ^^^ orrasted Garibaldi. But yon do not soem, my friend, aa pleased as I should have anticipated.'
' Garibaldi has been arrested before,' aaid Ocrwick ' Well, well, I am hopeful ; but I must go to my dinner. I will see foo aifato to-morrow.'
276 LOTH AIR.
CHAPTER LI.
Tas coniinnons gathering of what, in popular laugoagei were styled the Graribaldi Volunteers, on the southern border of the Papal territory in the autumn of 18G7, was not the only or perhaps the greatest danger which then threatened the Holy See, though the one which most attracted its alarmed attention. The considerable numbers in which tiiia assemblage was suddenly occurring ; the fact that the son of the Liberator had already taken its command, and only as the precursor of his formidable sire ; the accredited rumour that Ghirelli at the head of a purely Roman legion was daily expected to join the frontier force ; that Nicotera was stirring in the old Neapolitan kingdom, while the Liberator himself at Florence and in other parts of Tuscany was even ostentatiously, certainly with impunity, preaching the new crusade and using all his irresLstible influence with the populace to excite their sympathies and to stimulate their energy, might well justify the extreme apprehension of the court of Rome. And yet dangers at least equal, and almost as close, were at the same time prepai'ing unnoticed and un^ known.
Li tlie mountainous range between Fiascone and Viterbo, contiguous to the sea, is a valley surrounded by chains of steep and barren hills, but which is watered by a torrent scarcely dry even in summer ; so that the valley itself, which is not inconsiderable in its breadth, is never without ver- dure, while almost a forest of brushwood formed of shrubs, which in England we snouid consider rare, bounds the natural turf and ascends, sometimes to no inconsiderable height, the nearest hills.
Into this valley, towards th^ middle of September, there
LOTH AIR.
277
•ie61ed one &ftemooo, through a narrow pass, a bgiud of a.bout Sfly men, oU armed, and uonductiiig a cavaJcado or ratbec a caravan of mnlcB laden with munitions of war .-ind other stores. When they had gained the centre of tlie viilley, and ■I general halt was accomplished, tlielr commander, accom- panied bj one who was apparently an officer, surveyed all tLe points of the locality ; and when their companions had rtMted and refreshed themselves, they gave the necessary orders for the preparation of a camp. The tncf already aJFordcd a snfficient area for their prenent wants, bat it was }d that on the morrow they must commence clear. iiig the brushwood. In the mean time one of the liveliest of military life soon rapidly developed itself: tha houses were pitched, the sentries appointed, the videttea established. The commissariat was limited to bread nnd olives, and generally the running stream, varied some- by coffee and always consoled by tobacco. On the third day, amidst their cheerful tliough by no leans light laboars, a second caravan arrived, evidently :pected and heartily welcomed. Then in another eight- id-forty hours, smaller bodies of men seemed to drop down Fm the hills, generally without atoi-es, but always armed, came from neighbouring islands in open boats, :d one morning a Considerable detachment crossed the water from Corsica. So that at the end of a week or t«u days there was an armed force of several hundred men in this once silent valley, now a. scene of constant stir and con- linmd animation, for some one or something was always Iviag, and from every quarter ; men and arras and stores ipt in from every wild pass of the mountains and every iltle rocky harbour of the coast. About this time, while tho officer in command was re- iwing a considerable portion of the troops, the rest labour- jfag in still clearirg the bmshwood and estahlisliing the ;!biu^ works incidental to n oamp, half a dow'n horaomeo
278 LOTH AIR.
wore seen descending the monntain pass hj which tiie original body had entered the vallej. A scont had preceded ^Jicm, and the troops with enthusiasm awaited the arrival of that leader a message from whose magic name had sum- moned them to this secluded rendezvous from many a dis- tant state and city. Unruffled, but with an inspiring fire in his pleased keen eye, that General answered their do- voted salute whom hitherto we have known by his travel- ling name of Captain Bruges.
It was only towards the end of the preceding month that he had resolved to take the field ; but the organisation of the secret societies is so complete that he knew he could always almost instantly secure the assembling of a picked force in a particular place. The telegraph circulated its mystic messages to every part of France and Italy and Belgium, and to some old friends not so conveniently at hand, but who he doubted not would arrive in due time for action. He himself had employed the interval in forward- ing all necessary supplies, and he had passed through Florence in order that ho might confer with the great spirit of Italian movement and plan with him the impend, ing campaign.
After he had passed in re^new the troops, the General, with the officers of his sta.fr who had accompanied him, Tisited on foot every part of the camp. Several of the men he recognised by name ; to all of them he addressed some inspiring word : a memory of combats in which they had fought together, or happy allusions to adventures of roman- tic peiil ; some question which indicated that local know- ledge which is magical for those who are away from home ; mixed with all this, sharp, clear enquiries as to the business of the hour, which proved the master of detail, severe in discipline but never deficient in sympathy for his troops.
After sunset, enveloped in their cloaks, the General and
|
1 |
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LOT HAIR. 379 |
I |
hi£ oomp&uJODS, the party inoKased by the ofiii
twen in conunnnd previous to his EUTiral, smoked their
cigars runsd the camp Cre.
' Well, Sarano,' said the General, ' I will look over j-our nmsior-roU to-morrow, bnt I should auppose 1 may count oo a iliou^and riSea or so. I want three, and we shall get tlicro. The ^reat man would have supplied them me ut oui-e, but I will not have hoys. He must send thoao on Ui Menutti. I told him, " 1 am not a man of genius ; 1 do not pretend to eonqner kingdoms with boys. Give mo old sol- diers, men who have served a couple of campnigns, and been scuntied with foor-and- twenty niouths of camp life, and I "rill not disgrace you or mysolf," '
' We have had no news from tlio other place for a long time,' siud Saraco, ' How is it ? '
' Wall enough. They are in the mountains ahout Nerohi, in a positiou not very ttnlike tliis ; numerically strong, foi Niootem has joini^d them, and Gliirelli with the Roman LogioQ is at bniiil. They must be quiet till the great man joins them ; 1 am told they are restless. There has been too mDch noiso about the whole busiucsx. Had they been as mam na yon have been, we should not have had all these rcpresentotionfl from France and these threatened diffionllins from thit quarter. The Fapalini would have complained and remonstrated, and Rattazzi could have conscientioasly aMiurod the people at Paris that they were dealing with ex- Bggertitions and bngboars j the very eiistoneu of the frontier forne would have become a controversy, and while the news- }i]i|H.-r9 were proving it was a myth nc slionid have been lu thu Vatican.'
' Add when shall wo be there, Genci-al ? '
'I Jo not want to move for a month. T)y that time I shall linve two limusand five hundred or three thousand uf mj old comnuIrH, and the great man will have put bcyii ill trim. IVjth bodiL's njuat h'avo their monnUuns at
' 1 I "'jr" I" trim. 1
ns at ^^
I
28o LOTHAIR. \
Uie same time, join in the open connirj and marck Kome.'
As the nigbt advanced, several of the party rose and lef"^ the camp fire, some to their tents, some to their dntae^^ Two of the staff remained with the OeneraL
* I am disappointed and nneasj that we have not hetiiB^ from Paris,' said one of them.
* I am disappointed,' said the General, ' hut not nneftsy , ^ she never makes a mistake.'
' The risk was too great,' rejoined the speaker in a de- pressed tone.
' I do not see that^' said the OeneraL ' What is the risk ? Who coald possibly suspect the lady's maid of the Princess of Tivoli ! I am told that the Princess has become quite a favourite at the Tuileries.'
* They say that the police is not so well informed as it ujhhI to be ; nevertheless, I confess I should be much happier were she sitting round this camp fire.'
* Courage ! * said the General. * I do not believe in manj things, but I do believe in the divine Theodora. What say you, Captain Muriel ? I hope you are not offended by my criticism of young soldiers. You are the youngest in our band, but you have good military stuff in you, and will be soon seasoned.'
* I feel I serve under a master of the art,* replied Lothair, ' and will not take the gloomy view of Colonel Campian about our best friend, though I share all his disappoint- ment. It seems to me that detection is impossible. I am sure that I could not have recognised her when I handed the Princess into her carriage.'
* The step was absolutely necessary/ said the General ; • no one could be trusted but herself, no other person has the influence. All our danger is from Franco. The Italian troops will never cross the firontier to attack us, rest assured of that. I have proof of it. And it is most difficult, ahnost in\ possible, for the French to return. There never
LOTH AIR.
2S1
I
would bave been ao idea of such a Bt«p, if Ihere had boon a little more discretion at Florence, leas of tbose manifestoes and speeches &om balcooies. fiat wo must not criticise one who is above (mticisin, Wttlioat liim we could do notbing, and when be stacnpa his ft«t men rifie Irom the earth. 1 will go the roanda; conm nith mc, Caplo)!! UorieL Colooel, 1 order juu to yuar teut: yoa ave a veteran ; the ooly one among us, nl loaal od the ataiT, who wouuded at Asproiuoiitu.'
CUAPTEU LIT.
Tbi life of tiothair hnil been so strange and exciting einca be quilted Mnriel Towers that he bad fonnd little time for that reflection in which he was once so ppone to indulge. Perhaps ho shrank from it- If he wanted an easy distrac- tion &om self-criticism (it may ho a convenient refuge from the scruples, or even the pangs, of conscience), it waa pro- fluely suppUed by tbe startling aOairs of whicb he formed k part, the singular characters with whom he was placed in contact, the risk and responsibility which seemed sud- denly to bave encompassed bim with their ever-stimalaling' luflacBco, and lastly, by tbe novelty of foreign travel, which even under ordinary circnmstances baa a tendency to ronse and stir up even ordinary men.
So long ae Theodora was his companion in tbeir conncils Mod be waa listening to her deep plans and daring sugges- tions, enforced by that calm enthusiasm which was not the iMut powerful of her commanding spells, it is not perhaps mrprisittg tliat he should havo yielded without an effort to ber bewitching ascendency, fiat wbeu they had separated, and she liad embarked on that perilous enterprise of per- sonally conferring with tbe chiefs of those secret societies uf France wuicb bad been fancifDlly bnprised by her
282 LOTH AIR.
popular name and had nortored her tradition as a religio^^*^ faith, it might have been gnpposed that Lothair, left ^^ himself, might have recnrred to the earlier sentimentG his youth. But he was not lefl to himself. He was le=^=^^ with her injunctions, and the spirit of the oracle, though tl divinity was no longer visible, pervaded his mind and life.
Lothair was to accompany the General as one of hi' aides-de-camp, and he was to meet Theodora again' oi what was contemplated as the field of memorable actioi Theodora had wisely calculated on the influence, beneficial.-^'^ in her view, which the character of a man like the GreneraL.*^^ would exercise over Lothair. This consunmiate militaiy^^^TJ leader, though he had pursued a daring career and was man of strong convictions, was distinguished by an alma unerring judgment and a mastery of method rarely sur- passed. Though he was without imagination or sentiment, there were occasions on which he had shown he was not deficient in a becoming sympathy, and he had a rapid and correct perception of character. He was a thoroughly honest man, and in the course of a life of great trial and vicissitude even envenomed foes had never impeached hia pure integrity. For the rest, he was unselfish, but severe in discipline, inflexible and even ruthless in the fulfilment of his purpose. A certain simplicity of speech and conduct, and a disinterestedness which even in little things was constantly exhibiting itself, gave to his character even charm, and Hindered personal intercourse with him highly agreeable.
In the countless arrangements which had to be made, Lothair was never wearied in recognising and admiring tlie prescience and precision of his chief; and when the day had died, and for a moment they had ceased from their labours, or were travelling together, often through the night, Lothair found in the conversation of his companion, artless and unrestrained, a wonderful fimd of knowledge
1 of meD and things, and that, too, i
mcB and conntriea.
The caunp in the Apermines naa nnt ravoarablc to useless rererie. Lothair found nnccaaing and deeply intereattng' occnpation in his nomerona and novel duties, and if his thong-hta for a moment wandered beyond the bnrren peaks aronnd hini, tiej were attTBcted and engrossed by one aah- ject, and that was, natarally, Theodora. From her tht^ had heard notliing since her departnre, eacept a mystcnoos though not discouraging telegraTn which was given to them bj Colonel Campian when he h»d joined them at Florence. It was difficnlt not to feel anxious about her, thongh ths Genei^ wonld never admit the poHsibitity of her personal danger.
In this state of afiuirs, a week having elapsed since his uiival at the camp, Lothair, who had been visiting the ostpoeta, was snnunaned one morning by an orderly to the tent of the General. That personage was on his legs when Lotliair entered it, and was dictating to an offluer writing at ft taUe.
'Toa onght to know my military secretary,' eaid the Oenoral as Lotbair entered, ' and therefore I will introduce
Lothair was commencing a suitable reverence of reci^- nition as the secretary raised his head to receive it, when he snddenly stopped, ch.-inged colour, and for a moment ■ecmvd to lose himsei^ and ihcn mnrmored, ' la it possible ? '
It wiis indeed Theodora : clothed in male attire she ■cemcd a stripling.
'Quite possible,' she said, 'and all is wclL Bnt I found it a longer bo.'^ineM than 1 h^ counted on. Tou see, there are *o many nevr persons wbu knew nio only by tradition, but with wbom it •taa necessary I xhoald personally confer. Uid I had more difficnlly. jnst now, in getting through « than 1 hiid unticipated. Tlic Pspiilini and the
284 LOTH AIR.
French arc both worrying onr allies in that city about gathering on the southom frontier, and there is a sort examination, true or false I will not aver, of all who depart^r— ^ However, I managed to pass with some soldiers' wives whc^-tf=^o were carrying £rait as far as Nami, and there I met an olc=^ ^^ comrade of Aspromonte, who is a cnstom-offioer now, bnl^ .^=st true to the good cause, and he, and his daughter who if with me, helped me through everything, and so I am wil my dear friends again.'
After some slight conversation in this vein Theodora entered into a detailed narrative of her proceedings, and gave to them her views of the condition of affairs.
' By one thing, above all others,' she said, ' I am im- pressed, and that is the unprecedented efforts which Borne is making to obtain the return of the French. There never was such influence exercised, such distinct offers made, such prospects intimated. You may prepare yourself for anything : a papal coronation, a family pontiff; I could hardly say a king of Rome, though he has been reminded of that royal fact. Our Mends have acted with equal energy and with perfect temper. The heads of the societies have met in council, and resolved that if France will refuse to interfere, no domestic disturbance shall be attempted during this reign, and they have communicated this reso- lution to head-quarters. He trusts them ; he knows they are honest men. They did something like this before the' Italian war, when he hesitated about heading the army from the fear of domestic revolution. Anxious to secure the freedom of Italy, they apprised him that if he personally / entered the fleld they would undertake to ensure tranquil. / lity at homo. The engagement was scrupulously fulfilled. | When I left Paris all looked well, but affairs require the I utmost vigilance and courage. It is a mighty struggle; ' it is a struggle between the Church and the secret societies; and it is a death struggle.'
i
r
CIUPTKR Lin.
Dqkuio tLe weL'k Uiat elapsed afber the an-ival of Theodora 1( the camp, many recruits and considerable supplies of nilitaiy stores reached the VBilley. Theodora ronJly acted U secretary to the General, and lior labours were not light. Though Iiothair was frequently in her presence, they were aerer or rarely alone, and when they conversed together Imp t&lk jtas of details. The scouts, too, had brought infomiation, which iiiig:ht have been expected, that their nndozTous was no longer a secret at Rome. The garrison 'of the neighbouring town of Viterbo had therefore been Increased, and there was even the conuueuccmeDt of an mntronched camp in tlie vicinity of that place, to bo garri- nned by a detachment of the le^on of Antibes and other good troops, so that any junction between the General and Garibaldi, if contemplated, should not be easily elfected.
In the meantime, the life of the camp was buoy. The daily drill and exorcise of two thousand men was not & jllght aHair, and the constant changes in orders whioli the iiriral of bodies of recruits occasioned rendered this primary da^ more dilBcult ; the office of quartermaster reqaireJ (bo ntmost resource and temper ; the commissarint, which from the natnre of the country could depend little upon
je, demanded ejttreme husbandry and forbeai-ance. Bat perhaps no labours wore more severe than those of the annoarera, the clink of whose instruments resounded nn-
ingiy in the valley. And yet such is the magic of method, when directed by a master mind, thnt the whole Tireat on with the regularity and precision of machinery. Ifora tb&D two thousand armed men, all of whom had been fawiutomed to an irregular, some to a lawless life, wore ae
286 LOTH AIR.
docile as children ; animated, in general, bj wbat thi deemed a sacred cause, and led by a chief whom Hhcy^^O^ universalljr alike adored and feared.
Among these wild warriors, Theodora, delicate and fragile, but with a mien of majesty, moved like the spirit ^^ of some other world, and was viewed by them with adminir- tion not unmixed with awe. Veterans round the camp fire ^ had told to the new recruits her deeds of prowess and devotion ; how triumphantly she had charged at Voltomo, and how heroically she had borne their standard when they were betrayed at fatal Aspromonte.
The sun had sunk behind the mountains, but was still high in tlio western heaven, when a mounted lancer was observed descending a distant pass into the valley. The General and his staff had not long commenced their principal meal of the day, of which the disappearance of the sun behind the peak was the accustomed signal. This permitted them, without inconvenience, to take their simple repast in the open, but still warm, air. Theodora was seated l)etween the General and her husband, and her eye was the first that caught the figure of the distant but descending stranger.
* What is that ? ' she asked. The General immediately using his telescope, after a '
moment's examination, said :
* A lancer of the Royal Guard.' I All eyes were now fixed upon the movements of the
horseman. He had descended the winding steep, and now i was tracking the craggy path which led into the plain. As he reached the precinct of the camp he was challenged ' but not detained. Nearer and nearer he approached, and ! it was evident from his uniform that the conjecture of his character by the General was correct. i
* A deserter from the Gruard,' whispered Colonel Campian to liothair. ,
/
The liorseman was condacted by an ofBcor to tlie presence of the commaiider. When that preaeoce was reached the lani^er, still silent^ slowly lowered his tall w(;it|ion and offered tho General the despatch which was fastened to the 1 of his spear. Every eye was on the countenance of their chief as he Bed the missive, but that countenance van alwaja ■ntalile. It was observed, however, that be read tho T twic«. Looking np, the General said to the officer: Bee tltat the bearer is well quartered. This is for yon,' be 1 in a low voice to Theodora, and he gave her an mre j ' read it quietly, and then come into my tent.' Theodora I'ead tho letter, and quietly ; though, without le preparatory hint, it might have been difficalt to have nccaled her emotion. Then, after a short pause, she m, and the General, requesting his comj>anions not to istnrb themselves, joined Iwe, and they proceeded in teues to bis tent.
' He is arrested,' said the General when they had entered , ' and taken to Alessandria, where he is a close prisoner. "w ft blow, bnt I am more grieved than Huipriaed,' This waa the arrest of Garibaldi at Sinigaglia by the kalian Government, which had been commnnicated at texbam House to Mousignore Berwick by his evening Uritor.
* How will it aSect opcrattons in tJie field ? ' enquired lieodora.
* According to this despatch, in no de^n^e. Our original faro ia to be pnrsned, and acted npon tho moment we are Btdy. That should be in a fortnight, or perhaps three -eeks. Menoiti is to take the command on the southern mntier. Well, it may prevent jealoasius. I think I shall gnd Sarano there to reconnoitre ; he is well both with [■cetera and Ghirelli, and may keep tilings straight.'
' Bat tliere ore other aSuirs besides operations in the
288 LOTH AIR.
field,' said Theodora, *and scaroelj less criticaL this,' and she gave him the enclosure, which ran in words:
* The General will tell thee what has happened. Ha^ no fear for that. All will go right. It will not alter on plans a bnnch of grapes. Be perfectly easy aboat this country. No Italian soldier will ever cross the frontier except to combat the French. Write that on thy heart. Are other things as well ? other places P My advices are bad. All the prelates are on their knees to him, with blessings on their lips and curses in their pockets. Arch- bishop of Paris is as bad as any. Berwick is at Biarritz, an inexhaustible intriguer ; the only priest I fear. I hear fi'om one who never misled me that the Polhes brigade has orders to be in readiness. The Mary-Anne societies are !iot strong enough for the situation ; too local : he listens to them, but he lias given no pledge. We must go deeper. 'Tig an aflkir of " Madbe Natura." Thou must see Colonna.*
' Colonna is at Rome,* said the General, * and cannot be spared. He is acting President of the National Committee, and has enough upon his hands.'
' I must see him,' said Theodora.
' I had hoped I had heard the last of the *' Madre Natura,*' ' said the General with an air of discontent.
' And the Neapolitans hope they have heard the last of the eruptions of their mountain,' said Theodora ; ' but the necessities of things are sterner stuff than the hopes of men.'
' Its last effort appalled and outraged Europe,' said the Greneral.
'Its last effort forced the French into Italy, and has &eod the country from the Alps to the Adriatic,' rejoined Theodora.
' If the grea^ man had only boon as quiot as wo have
fe
LOTH AIR.
td the Ooneral, lighting a cigar, ' we might havB Kome b^ this time.'
B great man had been quiet, we sliould not h&ve rinnteer io our valley,' said Theodora. ' My faith Is implicit; he has boen right in everything, and IT fniltd except when he has been betrayed. 1 see Tor Rome exccpl- in his convictions and energy. I risb to die and feel I have devoted mj life only to lie triomph nf Savoyards who have sold their own I and of priests whose impostures bave degraded
ithoae priests ! ' esclaimed the General. ' I really Bnch care for anything else. They say the Savoyard jfaad comrade, and at any rate he can charge like a But those iiricsta ! I Buttered them once ! Why fn any ? Why did I not bum down St. Peter's ? bd it, but Klirandola, with his history and his love tnd all that old furniture, would re.'^urvo it for U ff the true God and for the plory of Europe ! Fino ire bave aecomplishcd \ And now we are hero, blowing where we are, and, as it appears, hardly i what to do.*
^, dear General," said Theodora, ' Wliero we are iresliold of Rome, and if we are wise we shall soon This arrest of our great friend is a misfortune, kn irredeemable one. I thoroughly credit what be Rit the Italian troops. Rest aseurcd he knows what liking about: they will never cross the frontier jBS. The danger is from another land. Rut there lao peril if wo are prompt and fii-m. Cli-ar your fall these dark feelings about the Madrr Natdra. I we require is that the most powerful and llio most IBOciatioii in Europe should ratify what the loenl \ of Fraeco hare already intimated. It will bo [' Send for Culonna, and leave the rcsl t* rao.'
290
CHAPTER LIV.
Thi ' Madue Natura ' is the oldest, the most powerful, asd the most occult of the secret societies of Italy. Its mytUo origin reaches the era of paganism, and it is not imposnble that it may have been foanded by some of the despoil^ jirofessors of the ancient faith. As time advanced, tbe brotherhood assuned many outward forms, according to the varying spirit of the age : sometimes they were firee- masons, sometimes they were soldiers, sometimes artists, sometimes men of letters. But whether their external re- presentation were a lodge, a commandery, a studio, or an academy, their inward purpose was ever the same; and tliat was to cherish the memory, and, if possible, to secure the restoration, of the Roman republic, and to expel from the Aryan settlement of Romulus the creeds and sovereign^ of what they styled the Semitic invasion.
The * Madre Natura * have a tradition that one of the most celeb nit utl of the Popes was admitted to their frater- nity as Carduial dei Medici, and that when he ascended the throne, mainly through their labours, he was called upon to co-operate in the fulfilment of the great idea. An individual who in his youth has been the member of a secret society, and subsequently ascends a throne, may find himself in an embarrassing position. This, however, ac- cording to the tradition, which there is some documentary ground to accredit, was not the perplexing lot of his Holi- ness, Pope Leo X. His tastes and convictions were in entire unison with his early engagements, and it is believed that he took an early and no unwilling opportunity of sub- mitting to the conclave a proposition to consider whether it was not both expedient and practicable to return to the
LOTH AIR.
291
vA fiutb, for wbicli their temples had boon originally erected.
The chicr tenet of the sociotj of 'Maork Natlba' is
denoted by iu najiie. Tbej could conceive nothing more
oigii&nt and ttnive be&utiiol, more provident ftod more
wful, niore esseullftlly divine, than that Byalem of
eative onler lo which they owed their bt^itig, Rud in
was their privilege to eiist. But they differed
a other schools of philosophy that have held this faith
il thia singular particntar: they recognised the inability
of the Latin race to pursue the worship of nature is an
abtttroct spirit, and tliey desired to revive those eiqnisit*
pcrsouifi cations of the aboonding {jaalitiea of the mighty
mother which the Aryan genios had bequeathed to the
admiration of man. Fartbenope was again to rule at
Naples instead of Janaariits, and starveling enints and
winking niadunitas were to reatcire their n.snrped altars to
the god of the silver bow end the radiant daughter of the
foaming wave.
^^ Altfaongh the society of 'Madrb NjTCEiA " themselvM
^^■Kcptod the allegorical inlerjtretation which the Neo-
^^Vlfttonists had ptai^od upon tlie Pagan creeds during the
^^■kt ages of Christianity, they coald not suppose that the
^^■ijjalace could ever comprehend an exposition so reGned,
^^■■t to say so fanciful. They guarded, therefore, against
^1^ cormptions and abuses of the rehgion of nature by the
nitira abolition of the priestly order, and in the principle
that every man should be his own priest they believed they
Wl foand tlie necessary security.
As it was evident that the arrest of Garibaldi could not
r kept Bei:i-et, the General thonght it most prudent to
I himself the herald of its occarrence, which bo announced
■ the troops in a manner aa httle discouraging as he conld
It was dillicull (o eiteuuato the consequences of Bo
i a blow, hut thry were a^sared that it was not a
292 LOTH AIR.
catastrophe, and would not in the slightest degree affect the execution of the plans preYioosl j resolved on. Two or three days later some increase of confidence was occasioned by the authentic intelligence that Garibaldi had been re- moved from his stem imprisonment at Alessandria, and conveyed to his island-home, Caprera, though still a pri Boncr.
About this time, the General said to Lothair, *My secretary has occasion to go on an expedition. I shall send a small detachment of cavalry with her, and you will be at its head. She has requested that her husband should have this office, but that is impossible ; I cannot spare my best officer. It is your first command, and though I hope it will involve no great difficulty, there is no command that does not require courage and discretion. The dis- tance is not very great, and so long as you are in the mountains you will probably be safe ; but in leaving this range and gaining the southern Apennines, which is your point of arrival, you will have to cross the open country. I do not hear the Papalini are in force there; I believe thoy have concentrated themselves at Rome, and about Vitcrbo. If you meet any scouts and reconnoitring parties, you will be able to give a good account of them, and probably they will be as little anxious to encounter you as you to meet them. But we must be prepared for every- thing, and you may be threatened by the enemy in force ; in that case you will cross the Italian frontier, in the immediate neighbourhood of which you will keep during the passage of the open country, and surrender yourselves and your arms to the authorities. They will not be very severe ; but at whatever cost and whatever may be the odds, Theodora must never be a prisoner to the Papalini. You will depart to-morrow at dawn.*
There is nothing so animating, so invigorating alike to body and soul, so truly delicious, as travelling among
LOTH AIR.
F
^HbDnntainB in tbe oarljr bours of tbe day. The fresIiDeaR of uatnre falls npon a roapoosive fmine, and the nobiUt^ of the scene discards the petty thonghta that pesler ordinary life. So felt Captain Muriel, as with every military pre- oaation ho conducted his little troop and his preciona charge among the winding passes of the Apenninos ; at first dim in the matin twilight, then soft with iiicipietit day, then comscatiug with golden flashes. Sometimes they deaeended from the austere heights into the sylvau intricacies of cbcsaut forests, amid tbe mah of waters and the fragrant Stir of ancient trees ; and then again ascend- ing to lofty summits, ranges of interminable bills, grey or green, expanded before them, with ever and anon a glimpse of plains, and sometimes tbe splendour and the odour of tbe sea.
Theodora rode a mule, which had been presented to the General by some admirer. It was an animal of remarkable beanty and intelligence, perfectly aware, apparently, of the importance of its present trust, and proud of its rich Bcooutremonta, its padded saddle of crimson velvet, and its silver bells. A couple of troopers formed tbe advanced gn&rd, and tbe same number at a certain distance fur- nished tbe rear. The body of the detachment, Gfteen strong, with the sunipter mnlea, generally followed Theo- dora, by wWose side, whenever the way permitted, rode their commander. Since be left England Lotliair had never been so much alone with Theodora. \Vliat struck liim most now, aa indeed previously at tbe camp, was that sba never alluded to the paat. For ber there would seem ) be no Unriel Towers, no Belmont, no England. Tou ronld have supposed that she bad been born in the ponnines and bad never quitt«d them. All ber conversa- B details, political or mihtary. Not tliat her manner changed to Lotbair. It wsa not only aa kind as I bnt it was sometimes nnnsoally and c
294 LOTHAIR.
narily tender, as if she reproached herself for the too fireqaent and too evident adf^ngnwMinent id her thongbtB, and wished to intimate to bim that though her hrmin were absorbed, her he&rt was still gentle and true.
Two hoars after noon thej halted in a green nook, near a beantifnl cascade that descended in a mist down a sylTsn clefl, and poured its pell acid stream, for their delightful use, into a natural basin of marble. The men picketed their horses, and their corporal, who was a man of the country and their guide, distributed their rations. All vied with each other in administering to the comfort and convenience of Theodora, and Lothair borered about her as a bee about a flower ; but she was silent, which be wished to impute to fatigue. But she said she was not at all fatigued, indeed quite fresh. Before thej resumed their journey he could not refrain firom observing on the beauty of their resting-place. She assented with a pleasing nod, and then resnming her accustomed abstraction she said : *The more I think, the more I am convinced that the battle is not to be fought in this country, but in France.'
Af^er one more ascent, and that comparatively a gentle one, it was evident that they were gradually emerging from the mountainous region. Their course since their halting lay through a spur of the chief chain they had hitherto pursued, and a little after sunset they arrived at a farm-house, which the corporal informed his Captain was the intended quarter of Theodora for the night, as the horses could proceed no farther without rest. At dawn they wore to resume their way, and soon to cross the oj)en country, where danger, if any, was to be anticipated.
The farmer was frightened when he was suomioned from his hoQKe by a party of armed men ; but having some good ducats given him in advance, and being assured they were all Cliristians, he took heart aud laboured to do wliat they desired. Theodora duly found herself in becoming quaj>
LOTI-JAIR. 39s
lOT^ Knd a acDtiy was inaiiut«il at her residenre. The troopers, who had boea quite coni«ut to wnip thomselvDa VD their cloaks and pass the night in the air, were pleased to find tio despicable accommodatioD in thu oaUbaildinga of tlie firm, and 8ti)l more with the proffered viiitngo of their h(.st. Aa for Loll.nir, ho envuloped himsolf iu hia mantle and threw hitnsclf on a bed of sacks, with a trosit of Indian com for Lis pillow, and though lie began bj musing over Theodora, in a few rainal«8 he waa inimcraed in that profound and dreamless sleep which a life of action aad monnt^un air combined can alone bccuiv.
CHAPTER LV.
ItoK open cnnniiy extending from the Apennines to the y gates of Horoe, and which they had now to cross, waa B geaemi a dueert ; a plain clothed wiih a coarse regeta- I nndulaling with an interminuble series of low >iitti moundB, without any of iho grace of form bich always attends the dispositiou uf nature. Natni-e t created them. They were the oirnpriiig of miin bid time, and of their rival powerx of destmction. Agi^H if ciTllisutian were engulfed in tliis drear expanse. They were the tombs of empires and tlii> sfjuildires of contending rikcos. The CaniixigTift prciper Liis at leant the grace nt aijDodncls t« break its mimutuuy, and evuvywhere tlio oemlean a|>ell of distance ; but in tliis grim solitude anti- qnity has loft only the memory of ilH violuuce and critu©B, Knd nothiug is beaatifal except the sity.
The orders of tiie General to direct their coarse as much fe possible in the vicinity of the Italian frutilii-'r, though it thenod their journey, ftoniuwlmt niitit^ted its dreari- ji hoar uft^r iioou, after traversing some flinty
296 LOTH AIR.
fields, they observed in the distance aa olive wood, be- neath the pale shade of which, and among whose twisted branches and contorted roots, they had contemplated find« ing a halting-place. But here the advanced goard observed already an encampment, and one of them rode back to report the discovery.
A needless alarm ; for after a due reconnaissance, they we're ascertained to be friends, a band of patriots abont to join ihe General in hi, encampment among the moxmtaina. They reported that a division of the Italian army was assembled in force upon the frontier, but that several regiments had already signified to their commanders that they would not fight against Garibaldi or his friends. They confirmed also the news that the great leader himself was a prisoner at Caprcra ; that although his son Menotti by his comniand had withdi^awn from Nerola, his force was really increased by the junction of Ghirelli and the Roman legion, twelve hundred strong, and that five hundred rifle- men would join the General in the course of the week.
A little before sunset they had completed the passage of the open country, and had entered the opposite branch of tlio Apennines, which they had long observed in the distance. After wandering among some rocky ground, they entered a defile amid hills covered with ilex, and thence emerging found themselves in a valley of some expanse and considerable cultivation; bright crops, vine- yards in which the vine was married to the elm, orchards full of fruit, and groves of olive ; in the distance blue hills that were becoming dark in the twilight, and in the oentre of the plain, upon a gentle and wooded elevation, a vast pile of building, the exact character of which at this hour it was difficult to recognise, for even as Theodora men- tioned to Lothair that they now beheld the object of their journey, the twilight seemed to vanish and the stars glis- tened in the dark heavens.
! (
LOTH AIR. 397
y Though the building seemed so ncnr, it was yet a oon-
Iderable time before they reached the wooded hill, and
though its ascent was easy, it was tu^ht before they halted in face of a hnge gate flanked by high etoce walls. A sangle light in oiie of the windows of tlie vast pile which it enclosed was the only evidence of hnmnn habitation.
The corporal sotmded a bngle, and immediately the light
moved and noiaca were heard ; the opening of the hall
doors, and then the snddcn flame of torches, and the
advent of many feet. The great gate slowly opened, and a
steward and eeveral eerving men appeared. The steward
Idresaed Theodora and Lothair, and invited tliem to
jBraount and enter what now appeared to be a garden
^th etatnes and terraces and I'ountjiins and roWH of
SB, its iulinite dila|ndation not being recognisable in
e deceptive hour; and he informed tho escort tliat their
[Bariers were prepared for them, to which llicy were at
t attended. Guiding their Captain and hia charge,
bey soon approached a double flight of steps, and aj^cend-
, reached the main terrace from which the building
mediately rose. It was, in truth, a castle of the middle
3 which a Roman prince, nt the commencement of
I last century, had engrafted the character of one of
B vast and ornate villas then the mode, but its original
icter still asserted itself, and notwithstanding its Tns-
1 basement and its Ionic pilasters, its rich pediments
■id delicate volutes, in the distant 1andsca])e it stilt
. fortress in the commanding position which
ftcamH the residence of a feudal cliief.
I They entered tlirough a Pulladian vestibule a hull which
■ttwy foit must be of huge dimensions, thongh with tho aid
of a single torch it was impossible to trace its limits, either
of eitent or of elevation. Then bowing before them, uid
Jightiiig as it were their immediate steps, the steward
1 down a long and lofty corridor, which led to
298 LOTH AIR.
tlia entranoe of seyerml chambera, aU vast, with litUe farni- tare, bat their walls corered with pictares At length he opened a door and adhered them into a saloon, which was in itself bright and glowing, bat of which the livelj air was heightened by its contrast with the preceding scene. It was lofty, and hang with faded satin in gilded panels still bright. An ancient chandelier of Venetian crystal hang iUamined &om the painted ceiling, and on the silver dogs of the marble hearth a fresh block of cedar had jost been thrown and blaaeed with aromatic light.
A lady came forward and embraced Theodora, and then greeted Lothair with cordiality. *We mast dine to-day even later than yoa do in London,' said the Princess of Tivoli, * bat we have been expecting yon these two hoars.* Then she drew Theodora aside, and said, ' He is here ; but yoa mast be tired, my best beloved. As some wise man said : " Business to-morrow." *
* No, no,* said Theodora ; * now, now : I am never tired. The only thing that eidiaasts me is suspense.'
' It shall be so. At present I will take yoa away to shake the dust off your armour; and Serafino attend to Captain Muriel.*
CHAPTER LVL
When they assembled again in the saloon there was an addition to their party in the person of a gentleman of distinguished appearance. His age could hardly have much exceeded that of thirty, but time had agitated his truly Roman countenance, one which we now find only in consular and imperial busts, or in the chance visage of a Roman shepherd or a Neapolitan bandit. He was a shade above the middle height, with a frame of well-knit synv-
His proud head wRa proudly placed on broad
dldcni, imd neither time n
■ indul-i
3 bod marred hui
■fenotl
waist. His dark brown bair was short and hya- cintliiiie, close to bia white forehead, and untanilly Rhowini^ his small ears. Ee wore no whiskers, aud bis mouBtoclio was limited to the centre of hia upper lip.
When TLoodora entered and offered him her hand he pressed it to his lips with gravity and proud homage, and then their hostess said, ' Captaiu Mnriel, let me present yon to a Prince who will not bear his titles, and whom, there- fore, I most call by his name — Romolo Colonna.*
Tbe large folding doora, richly jiainted and gilt, though
from neglect and time, and unstained by columns of
ona marbles, were suddenly opened and revealed
biT saloon, in whicb was a round table brightly lighted.
Mid to whicb the Princess invited her friends.
Their conversation at dinner was livi'ly and sustained! the travels of the last two days formed a natural part, and wero apposite to commence with, but thpy woro soon en- grossed in the great subject of thuir lives; and Colonna, who had left Rome only four- and-t wen ty honrs, gave them int^fresting details of the critical condition of that capital. When the repast wbji concluded tbe Princess rose, and, acoonipaiiicd by Lothair, re-entered the saloon, but Theo- id Colonna lingered behind, and finally seating lelves at the farthest end of the apartment in which had dined, became engaged in earnest conversation. Ton have seen a great deal since we &rst mot at Bel- Id the Princess to Lothair.
IDS to me now,' said Lothair. ' that I knew as much •it life thon as I did of the stars above us, about whose purposes aTid fortunes 1 nsed to puzzle myself.'
* And might have remained in that ignomnco. The great iority of men exist bnt do not live, like Italy in the hurt itury, Tbe power of the passiona, the foi-ce of tbe will,
300 LOTH AIR.
the creative energy of the imagination, these make life, aad reveal to ns a world of which the million are entinly ignorant Yon have heen fortunate in your youth to havD become acquainted with a great woman. It developes all t man's powers, and gives him a thousand talents.'
' I often think,' said Lotliair, ' that I have neither powers nor talents, but am drilling without an orbit.'
' Into infinite space,' said the Princess. ' Well, one might do worse than that. But it is not so. In the long run your nature will prevail, and you will fulfil your organic purpose ; but you will accomplish your ends with a com- pleteness which can only be secured by the culture and development you are now experiencing.'
' And what is my nature ? ' said Lothair. ' I wish yon would tell me.'
* Has not the divine Theodora told you ? '
' * She has told me many tilings, but not that.'
* How then could I know,' said the Princess, * if she hw not discovered it ? '
' 'But perhaps she has discovered it,' said Lothair.
' Oh ! then she would tell you,' said the Princess, ' for she I is the soul of truth.'
I ' But she is also the soul of kindness, and she might wish
I to spare my feelings.'
I * Well, that is very modest, and I dare say not affected.
j For there is no man, however gifted, even however con- I ccited, who has any real confidence in himself until he has I acted.' ' ' Well, we shall soon act,' said Lothair, ' and then I
suppose I shall know my nature.'
'In time,' said the Princess, 'and \nth the continued
inspiration of friendship.'
* But you too are a great Mend of Theodora ? '
> ' Althoagh a woman. I see you are laughing at female
I fiiendships, and, generally speaking, there is foundation
i
LOTHAIR. yai
fiir tliB fr^eral eneer. I will own, for my part, 1 have every female neakness, and in excess. I am vain, I tun parioufi, I am jealous, imd I nm envious ; but I adore TLeoilara. I reconcUe my fueliiiga towarda her and my dii^position in this 'waj. It is not fi^endaiiip, it is worahip. And indeed there are moments when I sometimes think she 19 one of those beautiful divinities that we once wor- shipped in Ibis land, and who, when they listened to oqf ptayera, at least vouchsafed that our country shonJd not be the terrible wilderness that you crossed this day.'
In the meantime Colonna, with folded anus and eyes fixed on the ground, waa listening to Theodora.
' Thus you BCe," she continued, ' it comes to thin : Roma can only be freed by the Romans. He looks upon the secret societies of his own country as he does upoa universal safi'mge : a wild beast, and dangerous, but which may bo ,atch(Kl tuid tajned and managed by the police. He listens, plays with them. He temporiRea. At the bottom }iia heart, his ItiiUnn blood daspisea the Gaols. It must something deeper and mora touching than thia. Rome muat appeal to him, and in the iiteSable name,'
' It bas been uttered before,' Raid Colouoa, looking np at
hia companion, ' and * And he hcsitak-d,
'And in vain yon would say,' said Tlieodora. *Kot bo. There wiis a martyrdom, but the blood of Felice baptisoa thd new birth of Italian life. Bat I am not thinking of Ished. Had it not been for the double intrigues of Savoyards it need not then have been shed. We bear no ill will, at least not now, and we oan make oflVrs. Make them. The rcvolutiun iu Gaul is ever limicry of Italian thought and Ufe. Their great ofTair of laat century, which they have so marred and muddled, lid never have occurred had it not been fur Tuscan ; 18+8 was the echo of our societies ; and the Seine never be diatnrbed if the Tiber flows nnrulSed. Let
302 LOTH AIR.
kiim oonaent to Romiui freedom^ and Madri Nitura wiD gnamntoe him against Latetian barricades.'
* It is only the offer of Mary- Anne in another form,* said Colonna.
* Guarantee the dynasty,' said Theodora. ' There is the point. He can trust ns. Emperors and kings break treaties without remorse, but he knows that what is registered by the most ancient power in the world is sacred.'
' Can republicans guarantee dynasties ? ' said Colonna, shaking his head.
'Why what is a dynasty, when we are dealing with eternal things ? The casualties of life compared with infi- nite space. Rome is eternal. Centuries of the most de- grading and foreign pricstcrafl, enervating rites brought in by Hcliogabalas and the Syrian emperors, have f&iled to destroy her. Dynasties ! Why, even in our dark servitude we have seen Merovingian and Carlovingian kings, and Capets and Valois and Bourbons and now Buonapartes. They have disappeared, and will disappear like Orgetorix and the dynasties of the time of Ca3sar. What we want is Rome free. Do not you see that everything has been pre- paring for that event ? This monstrous masquerade of United Italy, what is it but an initiatory ceremony to prove that Italy without Rome is a series of provinces ? Esta- blish the Roman republic, and the Roman race will, as before, conquer them in detail. And when the Italians are tlms really united, what wiD become of the Grauls? VVTiy, the first Buonaparte said that if Italy were really united the Gauls would have no chance. And he was a good judge of such things.*
* What would you have me do then ? ' said Colonna.
* See him, see him at once. Say everything that I have eaid, and say it better. His disposition is with us. Con- venience, all political propriety, counsel and would justify his abstinence. A return to Rome would seem weak, fit>
LOTII.UR.
I, capriciona, and would prove Uiat his previtnia rotire-
mb w&s i]i-cori9idered and ill-inTorined. It woold disturb and alarm Earope. But yoo have, neverthetoea, to fight i^ust grent odds. It !a Madbb Natura against St, Petek'b. Never was the abomination of the world ao active as at prcaeut. It ia in the very throca of il« fell despair. To save itself, it would poison in the Knchoriat.'
' And if I fiiil ? ' said Colonna.
* Yaa will not fail. On the whole his interest Ilea on
'The sacerdotal inflnenceB are very strong there. WTien e calcolntion of interest is fine, a word, a glance, sorae-
righ, a tear, may have a fatal elTect.' ' All depends upon him,' said Theodora. ' If he were to ■appear irom the stage, iDterferoDce would be impossible.' ' llul he is on the stage, and apparently will ronmin.' ' A single life should not staud between Itomo and froo-
' Wliat do yon mean ( ut that Romolo e his coautry.'
Colonna should go to Paris and
CHAPTER LVII.
WflEN Captain Miinel and Iiis detachment returned to the camp, they foand iliat the foi'ce had been not inconaidorably iuL-r«a9od in tlieir absence, while the tidings of the disposi- tion of the Italian army, brought by the recruits and the deserters from tlio royal standard, cherished the hopes of the troops, and aiimuliitcd their desire for action. Theodora had bL'cu far more commnnicative during their journey back than in tlint of her departuro. She waa Icaa abaorbed, und had resumed llial serene yet ever sympathising ch». r.irt«r which was one of her charms. Without goin(f into
304 LOTH AIR.
detail, she mentioned more than once to Loihair kow re- lieyed she felt hj Colonna accepting the mission to I^iris. He was a person of so much inflaence, she said, and of such great judgment and resource. She angnred the moet aatia- factory results from hia presence on the main scene of action.
Time passed rapidly at the camp. When a life of con- stant activitj is combined with routine, the hours flj. Neither letter nor telegram arrived from Colonna^ sod neither was expected ; and yet Theodora heard from him, and even &TO0xabiy. One day, as she was going the roonds with her hnsbsnd, a young soldier, a new recruit^ ap- proached her, and pressing to his lips a branch of the oiiTe tree, presented it to her. On another occasion when she n^tumod to her t^nt, she found a bunch of fruit frtun iht same trmx, thoiurh not quite ripe, which showed tha( the cause of peace bad x»ot only progressed but had almoss b»- fared. All thcf«e cnzLZHinications sustained her sac^^soe fiisposirinn, aiu: FlI' :if i^ippy confidence she laboured wzzk unoeBrtiiifr and in«T»nhir *a*rgT, so that when the Kockai- for 8ipn»l canir l^^r^ TiijAfc be prepared to obey h, ami nn»i<lly pnthor t4u *?u« truicwn of their glorious hc^wsL
Whilo t^hf wn^ it 'hiA mood of miud a scout arriTed f^. Nen>]a, hrinL'^nt' "ww» that a brigade of the Frecdi lm<l nr>:5>Hr<=^}v<^"^***'^*^ ''^ Marseilles, and might be iinxr-x exp'^tHi rtt -f'w** Vocchia. The news was abso!u:eu Tbi Imltflii Oivn^* <* Xurseilles had telegraphed to his cr mei^t >«Mi ^•^'J^ *^^^ ^^^^ regiment was on board, i fKi' }nfn ^*^ *juLi»*i»cod. Copies of these telegrams ,^.,^^^^^ :BtoiAuUy by a secret friend to the volunteers nt
\^itKM L^i«kAiora heard this news she said nothfz^. nn;. I»^^^.,ujil^ she quitted the group round the Gecenl s&£ m/Mi^: t» ber own tent She told her attendaaa. -sat itiudrtW^'^^^^ Ctt«tom-house officer at Xami. and a s«
child oflbe mountains, that no one mnst approach ber, nut •>veii Colonel Campian, and tlie girl sate witliont the tent at its entrance, dressed iii her many-col oured garments, with fiery ejea and square whit« teeth, and her dark liair braided irith gold coins and covered with a long white kerchief of perfect cleanUuess ; and she haji a poniard at ber bide and a revolver in her hand, and she would liave used both wea- pons Boocor than that her miatress should be disobeyed. Alone in her t«nt, Theodora Toil npon her knoes, and lang np her hands to heaven and bowing hor bead to the e said ; ' O God ! whom I bave evor worshipped, d of jnstii.'e and of truth, receive the agony of my soul 1 L And on the eartb she remained for hours in diispair. L If ight came and it brought no boIuco, and the day re. rned, but to her it brongbt no light. Tbeodoi-a wua no r seen. The soul of the ciuDp seemed extinct. Tlie iieai of majesty that ennobled aU ; the winning amile that warded the rifleman at Lis practice and the sapper at his toil ; the inciting word that reanimated the recniil and re- called to tbe veteran the glones of Sicilian struggles : all vanished, all seemed spiritlesa and dull, and tbe armonrcr ikod hia forge as if bs were the heartless hireling of a
■■In this state of moral discomStore there was one person 0 did not lose his head, and this was tbe General, Calm, Mt«d, and critical, be surveyed tbe situation and indi- l the possible contingencies. ' Onr beat, if not OOP only, chance,' he said to Colonel Campian, ' is tlu's ; that the Italian army now gathered in force npon the frontier should mnrcL to Rome and aiTive there before the Fronoh. intover then happens, we shall at least got rid of the nt imposture, but in all probability tbe French and B will fight, In tljat case I shall join tbe Savoyai-ds, i in the coni^ision we may do some business j'et.' ' This embarkation,' suid the Colonel, ' explains tho gn-
y^i LOTH AIR.
thering of the Italians on the frontier. They most b&ve foreseen this event at Florenoe. They never can submit to another French occupation. It would upset their throne. The question is, who will be at Borne first.*
* Just so,* said the General ; ' and as it is an affair upon which all depends, and is entirely beyond my control, I think I shall now take a nap.* So saying he turned into his tent, and, in five minutes, this brave and exact man, bat in whom the muscular development fiur exceeded the ner- vous, was slumbering without a dream.
Civita Vecchia was so near at hand, and the scouts of the General were so numerous and able, that he soon learnt the French had not yet arrived, and another day elapsed and stOl no news of the French. But, on the afternoon of the following day, the startling bat authentic informa- tion arrived, that, after the French army having embarked and remained two days in port, the original orders had been countermanded, and the troops had absolutely dis- embarked.
There ¥ras a cheer in the camp when the news was known, and Theodora started from her desolation, surprised that there could be in such a scene a sound of triumph. Then there was another cheer, and though she did not move, but remained listening and leaning on her arm, the light returned to her eves. The cheer was repeated, and there were steps about her tent. She caught the voice of Lothair speaking to her attendant, and adjuring her to tell her mistress immediately that there was good news, and that the French troops had disembarked. Then she heard her husband calling Theodora.
The camp became a scene of excitement and festivity which, in general, only sacceeds some signal triumph. The troops lived always in the air, except in the hours of night, when the atmosphere of the mountains in the late Lutunm is dangerous^ At prosent they formed groups and
forties is the Tieinitj of the tenia ; tLere was their gay ciiDt«eii and there their bumoniiis kitcbeo. The i the Gulf with Uis rich Venetian banter and the Sicilian iv-ith hia ficaramoauh tricks got on very well with the g«title &jid polished Tuscan, and coold amuite withont cQending the high Roman soul ; bnt tboro wore eome qnipB tnd crunks and Bometimea some antics which wore not alnaya relished by the Bimpler men from the ifllands, Bind the o&ended eye of r Corstcan sometimes seemed to threaten ' vendetta.'
About anneot. Colonel Canipian led forth Tlioodora. 6he wua in female attii-o, and her long hair restrained only by a fillet reached nearly to the ground. Her Olym- piui brow seemed distended ; a photipboric light ghttered In her Hellenic eyes; a deep piuk spot bnmt upon each of thoM cheeks usually so irtimaculatcly fair.
The Oeneml and the chief officers gathered round her with tbeir congrntalationB, but she would visit all the quarters. She spoke to the men in all the dialects of tlwt land of many langu^:c8. The men of the Gulf, in gciier»l of gigantic stature, dropped their merry Venetian stories and fell down on their knees and kiuacd the hem of her garment; the Scaramouch forgot his tricks, and wept BA he wonld to the Madonna; Tuscany and Rome made ■peecbos worthy of the Amo and the Fomm ; and the CoTsic&na and the islanders unsheathed thuir poniards and biKodisfacd them iu the air, which is their mude of de- BOtiug ftSbctionate devotion. As the night advanced, the crescent moon glittering above the Apennine, Theodora ftttendod by the whole staff, having visited all the troops, stopped at the chief fire of the camp, and in a voice which might have maddened nations sang the byitin of Romau liberty, the whole army ranged in ranks along the vsJiey n the Holcmn and triiunphout chorus.
L^oininj
ic5i LOTH AIR.
j CHAPTER LVm.
This eyaltation of feeling in the camp did not evaporate.
I All felt that thej were on the eve of some great event, and
I that the hour was at hand. And it was in this state of
enthusiasm, that oooriers arrived with the intelligence that
Garibaldi had escaped from Caprera, that he had reached
Merola in safety, and was in command of the assembled
I forces ; and that the General was, without loss of time, to
! strike his camp, join the main body at a given place, and
then march to Rome.
The breaking-up of the camp was as the breaking-np of a long frost and the first scent of spring. There was a brightness in every man*s face and a gay elasticitj in all their movements. But when the order of the day informed them that they must prepare for instant combat, and that in eight and forty hours they would probably be in face of the enemy, the hearts of the young recruits fluttered with strange excitement, and the veterans nodded to each other with grim delight.
It was nearly midnight when the troops quitted the
I valley through a defile in an opposite direction to the pass
by which they had entered it. It was a bright night.
Colonel Campian had the command of the division in
advance, which was five hundred strong. After the defile,
the country though hilly was comparatively open« and here
I the advanced guard was to halt until the artillery and
! cavalry had cfiectcd the passage, and this was the most
! laborious and difficult portion of the march; but all was
well considered, and all went right. The artillery and
r>avalry by sunrise had joined the advanced guard who
I were bivouacking in the rocky plain, and about noon the
LOTH AIR.
309
1 colamns of tho infantty begari to deploy from tbo heigbts, and in & short time the whole force was in the Soon after tliia Boino of the Bkirmiahcra who had I Bent forward rotamed, and reported the enemy in e and in a strong position, commanding the intendeil B of the invading force. On this the General resolved ) halt for a few hours, and rest and refresh tho troops, md to rcoommeuce their march after snnset, so that, vrith- nit effort, they might be in the presence of the enemy by
Lodi^ had heen separated from Theodora during tliia
■ to Iiim novel and exeiting acone. She had accompanied
her husband, bat when the whole foreo advanced in battle
array, the General bad desired that she should accompany
. tiie Btaff. They advanced through the night, and by dawn
Ltliey were fairly in the open country. In the diatanca, and
1 the middle of the rough and undulating plain, was a
ind hill with an ancient city, for it was a bishop's see,
milt aU about and over it. It would have looked like a
Lutio beehive, bad it rot been for a long convent on the
mit, flanked by aome stone pines, as we aee in the pio-
<s of Caspar and Clande.
Between this city and the invading force, though not
B & direct line, was posted the enemy in a etrong position;
llleir right wing protected by one of the monnds common
i the plain, and their left baclccd by an olive wood of
msidernble extent, and wliicU grow on the last rooky
p of the mountaina. They wore therefore, aa regards
tlie plain, on commanding ground. Tho strength of the
) forces was not nnoqual, and tho Papal troops were
t to be despised, consisting among others of a detech-
it of the legion of Antibes and tho Zouaves. Tliey had
■, wliich was well posted.
The General scrveyed the scene, for wliich he was not
mpreparod. Disposing hia troops in positions iu which
indred
they were as much protected aa possible from the e fire, he opened apon them a fierce and contiuDoaa c ade, while he ordered Colonel Campian Kiid eiglit hi men to fall hack among the hills, and full owing a c path, whicdi had been revealed by a shepherd, gain tiie spur of the mountains and attack the enemy in their rear through the olive wood. It waa caleolated that this move- ment, if successfol, would require about three hours, and the General for that period of the time had to occnpy cha enemy and hia own troops with what were in reality fciiit Sitae ka.
When the caloulated time had elapsed, the General he- came anxions, and his glttss wofl never from his eye. He was postud on a convenient ridge, and the wind, wbich was liigh this day from the sea, freqaently cleared the Geld from the Tolumea of smoke ; so hia opportunities of obaer. vation were good. But the three hoara passed, and there was no sign of the approach of Campian, and be ordered Sarano wilJi his division to advance towards the mound and occupy the attention of the right wing of the enemy ; bnt very shortly after Lothair had carried this order, and fonr hours having elapsed, the General observed some con- fusion in the left wing of the enemy, and instantly connU'r- manding the order, commanded a general attack in line. The troops charged with eiithuBiasm, hut they were en- countered with a reaolation as determined. At first they carried the mound, broke the enemy's centre, and were Diixed np with their great guns; but the enemy fiercely rallied, and the invaders were repulsed. The Papal troops retained tiieir position, and their opponents were in disorder on the plain and a little dismayed. It waa at this moment that Tliuodora rushed for>vard, and waving a sword in one hand, and in the other the standard of the Repnblio, ex- olaime<l, ' Brothers, to Rome ! '
This sight iullamcd their faltering hearta. which alter all J
LOTHAIR. 311
r confoauded than diam&ycd. Tbey formed &na md her, and charged with renewed energy at the J momeot thut Campian had hroaght the force of his pTisioD OD the enemy's rear. A panio came ovor the Papal na donblj assailei!, and their ront was complete. ^ey retreated in the utmost disorder to Vilerbo, which they ftlmndoned that eight and hurried to Rome.
At the lost moment, when the victory was no longer donbtfiil, and all were in full retreat or in full pursuit, a Zonave, in wantonness firing his weapon before ho threw it Bway, sent a random ehot which etmck Theodora, and she fell. Lothair, who had never led her during the battle, WM at her aide in a moment, and a soldier, who had also marked the fatal shot ; and, strange to say, so hot and keen was the pursuit, that though a momout before they seemed to be in the very thick of the strife, they almost instantaneously found themselves nione, or rather with no companions than the wounded near thonu She looked at Lothair, but at firet could not speak. Slie seemed stunned, bot soon murmured, ' Go, go ; you are wanted.'
At this moment the General rode np with some of his staff. His conntenanoe was elate and his eye sparkled with fire. But catching the figure of Lothair kneeling oa the Geld, he reined in his charger and said, ' What ia this P ' Then looking more closely, he instantly dismounted, and mnttoring to himself, ' This mai-a the victory,' be was &t Theodora's side,
A slight emile came over her when she recogtiised tho Ooneral, and she faintly pressed his hand, and then said again, ' Go, go ; yon are all wanted.'
'None of os are wanted. The doy is won; we must itaik of you.'
' la it won ? ' she munnnred.
* Complete.'
' I dieoonfariL'
312 LOTH AIR,
*Who talks of death?' said the OeneraL *ThiB is a wound, but I have had some worse. What we mast ihink of now are remedies. I passed an ambulance this momeni Ban for it,' he said to his aide-de-camp. *We must staunch the wound at once ; but it is only a mile to the dtj, and then we shall find everything, for we were ez- pected. I will ride on, and there shall be proper attend- ance ready before you arrive. You will conduct our friend to the city,' he said to Lothair, * and be of good courage, as I am.'
CHAPTER LDL
The troops were rushing through the gates of the city «irhen the General rode up. There was a struggling and stifling crowd ; cheers and shrieks. It was that moment of wild fruition, when the master is neither recognised nor obeyed. It is not easy to take a bone out of a dog's mouth ; nevertheless the presence of the Greneral in time prevailed, something like order was established, and before the ambulance could arrive, a guard had been appointed to receive it, and the ascent to the monastery, where a quarter was prepared, kept clear.
During the progress to the city Theodora never spoke^ but she seemed stunned rather than suffering ; and once, when Lothair, who was walking by her side, caught her glance with his sorrowful and anxious face, she put forth her hand and pressed his.
The ascent to the convent was easy, and the advantages of air and comparative tranquillity, which the place offered, counterbalanced the risk of postponing, for a very brief space, the examination of the wound.
They laid her on their arrival on a large bed, without poles or canopy, in a loflv white- washed room of consider.
LOTH AIR.
3IJ
Me dimensiciTLii, clean and airy, with high open windoivs. There wna no famitnre in the room except a chair, a table, and a crucifix. Lothair took her in hia arma and laid her I on the bed ; and the coromon soldier nho bod hitherto uc.<d)^te(] him, a giant in etfttare with a benrd a foot long, Mood by the bedside crying like a chiliL The chief Borgeon alinoBt at the Biime moment arrived with an ^do-de'Canip of the General, nn<l her faithful female attendant, and in a few miiint«B her huaband, himself wounded and covered with dnst.
The anrpoon at once requested that all tilioald withdraw exrapt her devot«d mpiid, and they waited his report with- oat, in that deep sad silence which will not despair, and yet darea not hope.
When the wound bad been exanuncd and probed and
Kised, Theodora in a faint voice said, ' Is it desperate ? " Not desperate,' said the anrgeon, ' but fieriona. All Dcds opon your perfect tranquillity, of mind as well as
• Well I am here and cannot move ; and as for my mind, I an not only eerene but happy.'
'Then we ahall get through this," said the surgeon en- eouimgingly.
'I do not hko yon to stay with mo,' said Theodora.
I^Tberc are other snffcrors besides myself.'
t ' My onlers are not t-o quit yon,' said the sui^on, ' but
f groat nae within these walls. I shall return
D the restorative has hod its eSect. But remember, if
% bo wanted, I am always here.'
, Soon ftfter tliis Theodora fell info n gpntio sinmbcr. and
ter two hours woke refreshed. The countenance of tha
Bnrgoon when he again vtsiled her was less troubled ; it wbe
The day was now beginning to decline ; notwithstanding a of tnmult and violence near at bond, ail wae
^Wbe scenes
3X4 LOTH AIR.
hero silent ; and the breeze, which had been strong doring the whole day, but which blew from the sea^ and was toj soil, played gratefully upon the pale coontenanoe of the snfierer. Suddenly she said, ' What is that ? '
And they answered and said, * We heard nothing.'
* I hear the sound of great guns,' said Theodora.
And they listened, and in a moment both the surgeon and the maid heard the sound of distant ordnance.
' The Liberator is at hand,' said the maid.
' I dare say,* said the surgeon.
*No;' said Theodora looking distressed. 'The sounds do not come from his direction. Gt> and see, Dolores ; ask and tell me what are these sounds.'
The surgeon was sitting by her side, and occasionany touching her pulse, or wiping the slight foam from her brow, when Dolores returned and said, * Lady, the sounds are the great guns of Civita Vecchia.*
A deadly change came over the countenance of Theodora, and the surgeon looked alarmed. He would have given her some restorative, but she refused it. * No, kind friend,' she said ; ' it is finished. I have just received a wound more fiEital than the shot in the field this morning. The French are at Rome. Tell me, kind friend, how long do you think I may live ? *
The surgeon felt her pulse ; his look was gloomy. * In such a case as your« ' he said, * the patient is the best judge.'
' I understand,' she said. ' Send then at once for my husband.'
He was at hand, for his wound had been dressed in the convent, and he came to Theodora with his arm in a sling, bat with the attempt of a cheerful visage.
In the meantime, Lothair, after having heard the first, and by no means hopeless, bulletin of the surgeon, had been obUged to leave the convent to look after his men,
Hud having Been them in qaartors and moAe his report to the General, he obtained permiasion to return to the coo- vent and ascertain the condition of Theodora, Arrived slumber, and ray of hope
with that sickening ind j'et uncertain
there, he heard that she had had t
that her Iinaband was now with her
lighted up the darkness of hia sonl.
and down the refectory of the conveni
restlessiiesa which attends impending t
Borrow, when Colonel Campian entered the apartment a
beckoned to h'lTn,,
There was an expression in liia face which appalled Lothftir, and be waa about to enquire after Theodora, when his t«ngne cleaved to the roof of hia month and he conid not speak. Thts Colonel shook his head, and said in a low, hollow voice, ' Sbo wiahea to ace yon, and aloi's
Theodora was sitting in the bed propped up bj cuahions
when I*othair entered, and a.B her wound was internal,
there nas no evidence of her sufierin^a. The distrossfol
expression of her face when sbo heaid the ^eat gnus ot
Cirita Vecciiia had paased away. It was serious, hut it
^bss serene. She bade her maid leave the chamber, and
^■■n she said to Lothair, ' It la the last time I shall speak
^Bt yon, and I wish tJiat we shonld he alone. There is
eomething moch on my mind at this moment, and yoa can
rolipt
I it.'
' Adored being,' murmured Lothair with streaming eyes, 'there ia no wish of years that I will not fulSl.'
' 1 know yoor life, for jou have told it mo, and yon are trae. I know your nature; it is gentle and brave, but perhaps too sneceptible. I wished it to bo susceptible only of the great and good. Mark me : I have a vague but strong conviction that tboro will be another, and a more ■ftti, attempt to gain you lo the Church of Itomo. If tf ever hcon to yoa, as yua have sometimca said, a«
3i6 LOTHAIR.
object of kind thonghts, if not a fortunate, at least a &iftk. fulf friend ; promise me now, at this hour of trial, with il the solemnity that becomes the moment, that jon win hbvw enter that commnnion.'
Lothair would have spoken, bnt his voice was choked, and he conld only press her hand and bow his head.
* Bat promise me,' said Theodora. ' I promise,' said Lothair.
* And now,' she said, ' embrace me, for I wish that jo^ spirit should bo upon me as mine departs.'
CHAPTER LX.
It was a Novcmbor day in Rome, and the sky was u gloomy as the heaven of London. The wind moaned through the silent streets, deserted except by soldiers. The shops were shut, not a civilian or a priest could be seen. The Corso was occupied by the Swiss Guard and Zouaves, with artillery ready to sweep it at a moment*i notice. Six of the city gates were shut and barricaded with barrels full of earth. Troops and artillery were also posted in several of the principal piazzas, and on some commanding heights, and St. Peter's itself was garrisoned. And yet these were the arrangements rather of panic this precaution. The utmost dismay pervaded the conncil- chaniber of the Vatican. Since the news had arrived of the disembarkation of the French troops at Marseilles, lU hope of interference had expired. It was clear that Bc^ wick had been ultimately foiled, and his daring spirit and teeming device were the last hope, as they were the ablest representation, of Romau audacity and stratagem. The Revolutionary Committee, whose abiding-place or agents never could bo traced or discovered, had posted every
LOTH AIR.
3'7
' tlie city daring the nlgbt with Uicir manifeBto,
moanciug that tba hoar h&A arrived ; an attempt^ pnr- y snccessfiil, had been made to blow up the bturacks ol
ft Zonarea ; ajid tbe Cardinal Secretary naa in possession ^information thiit an inBurrection was immediate, and k the city wonld bo Bred in four different qnartera.
The Pop© had escaped from the Vatican to the Castle of ^t. Angelo, where he was secure, and where his conrage ' < >ald be snstoincd by the presence of the Noble Gaard with iiieir swords always drawn. The six score of Mousignori, who in their different offices form, what ia styled, tbo Court of Rome, had either accompanied his Holiuosa, or pnu ilently secreted tiicmaelves in the etrongest palaces and couvents at their command. Lalur in the day, news airived <ii the eticape of Garibaldi from Caprera ; he waa said to bo marching on the city, and only five and twenty milea dis- lant. There appeared another proclamation from the Iterolntioaary Committee, mysterionsly poflted under the very Dosea of the guards and police, postponing the insur- rtx.-tion till the arrival of the Liberator.
The Papal cause eecmed bopeloss, There wna a general feeling thronghoQt the city and all classes, that this time it was to be an aQ'air of Alario or Genaeric, or the Constahle of Bourbon ; no negotiations, no compromises, no conven- tions, bat slanghter, havoc, a great judicial devastation, that wan to extirpate all signs and memories of Mediicval and Semitic Rome, and restore and renovate tlie iul^eritance of the true offspring of the she-wolf. The very aapeot of tba phioe itself was sinister. Whether it were the dulnesa of the d«rk sicy, or tbe frown of Madrb Natura heraelti bat the old Seven Hills seemed to look askance. The haughty Capitol, impatient of its chape's, sighed once more for d the proad Palatine, remembering the Ctesara, imperial contempt on the palaces of the Pft- s that, in the cuunse ni ignominiuus ages, had
boen constructed out of the extianstless womb of its EtiQ Borercigii ruin. The Jews in tiieir qnarl«r spoke nottung, bttt exchniig^ u cuHods glance, as if to eaj, ' Has it come at Inst F And nil] they indeed serve her aa she served Sion t '
This dreadful day at last paasod, followed by as dreadfal a tiiglit, and tlien another day equally gloomy, eqnally silent, equally panicstricken. Even insurrection wuulJ have boon a relief amid the horrible and venriag snapuusd. On tbo third day the Qovemment made some wild arreeU □r the wron^ persons, and then came out a iresli proclama- tion from the Bovolutiuuary Committee, directing tlio Bomana to make no move until the advsjiccd guard of Garibaldi had appeared npon Monte Mario, About lliis time the routed troops of the Pope arrived in confusion from Viterbo, and of course extenuated their discornGture by eiBggorating the strength of their opponenta. Ac- cording to them they had encountered not less than ten tlionsand men, who now baring joined the iitiU greater force of Garibaldi, were in full march on the city.
The members of the Papal party who showed the greatest Bpiiit and the highest conrago at tl)is trying conjuncture, were the Roman ladies aud their foreign &iends. They aomped lint for the troops as incessantly as they oBered prayers to the Vii'gin. Some of them were trained nurses, and they were training others to tend tlie sick and wounded. They organised a hospital service, and when the wounded arrived from Viterbo, notwithstanding the rumours of incen- diarism and massacre, they cante forth from their homes, and proceeded in companies, with no male attendants but armed men, to the discharge of their self-appointed poblic duties. There wore many foreigners So the Papal ranks, and the sympathies and services of the female visitors to Bomo ware engaged foi their conntrymen. Frincenscs of France and FkudgrsnuAht bescen by the trcssc!bod/iof many asuSc
1
Ecldiorof DanphinL- and Brabant; bnt there were d Gobjects of Qneeo Vicboria in the Papal ranka : soms Englielunen, several Scotclimou, mauy Irish. For them theEnglisli ladies had organiHcd a special service. Lady St. Jerome, with atiQaggiiig zeal, presided over this depart' nent ; and the snperior of the Bistorhood of mercy, tliat shrank from tiu toil, and fenrod no danger in (he fulfilment of those sacred duties of pioua patriots, ivas Miss AniudBl,
She was leaning over the bed of one who had been out down in the olive wood by a sabre of Cainpian's force, v.'heo a peal of artillery was heard. She thonght tliat liur hour had arrived, and the assault had commenced.
' Most holy Mary I ' she exclaimed, ' snstain me.'
There was another peal, atid it was repeated, and again ■nd again at regular intervals.
' Tbat is not a battle, it is a solute,' mnrmnred the wounded soldier.
And he was right ; it was the voice of the great guns tel- ling that the French had arrived.
The consternation of the Revolutionary Committee, no longer finstained by Colonna, absent in France, was complete. Had the advanced gnard of Garibaldi been in sight, it might still have been the wisest course to rise ; but Monte Mario was not yet peopled by them, and an insurrection against the Papal troops, reanimated by the reported arrival of the French, and increased in numbers by the fugitives from Viterbo, would have been certainly a rash and pro- bably a. hopoIcBs effort. And so, in the midst of confused and hesitating coancils, the first division of the French forcB arnved at the gates of Rome, and marched into the gloomy
silent city.
m Since the interference of St. Pctj^r and St. Paul against C, Uie Papacy had never eipenoneod a more miraco- interposition in ita favour. Shortly after thisthewind
uiged, and the sky become serene ; a sunbeam played on
320 LOTH AIR.
the flashing oross of St Peter's ; the Pope left the Castlb Angelo, and returned to the Qoirinal; the Noble sheathed their puissant blades ; the six score of Monsigpioi reappeared in all their busy haunts and stately offices ; the Court of Rome, no longer despairing of the Bepublii and with a spirit worthy of the Senate afler Gann», ordered the whole of its forces into the field to combat its invaders, with the prudent addition, in order to ensure a triumph, of a brigade of French infantry armed with chassepots.
Garibaldi, who was really at hand, hearing of these events, fell back on Monte Rotondo, about fifteen miles from the city, and took up a strong position. He was soon attacked by his opponents, and defeated with considerable slaughter, and forced to fly. The Papal troops returned to Rome in triumph, but with many wounded. The Roman ladies and their friends resumed their noble duties with enthusiasm. The ambulances were apportioned to the difierent hospitals, and the services of all were required. Our own country- men had suffered severely, but the skill and energy and gentle care of Clare Arundel and her companions only in- creased with the greater calls upon their beautiful and sublime virtues.
I A woman came to Miss Arundel and told her that in
' one of the ambulances was a young man whom they could I not make out. He was severely wounded, and had now I swooned ; but they had reason to believe he was an En- I glishman. Would she see him and speak to him ? And she 1 went.
' The person who had summoned her was a woman of
much beauty, not an unconmion quality in Rome, and of ' some majesty of mien, as little rare in that city. She was said, at the time when some enquiry was made, to be Maria Serafina de Angelis, the wife of a tailor in the Ripetta. I The ambulance was in the courtyard of the hospital of
the Santissima Trinita di Pellegrini The woman pointed
LOTH AIR. yii
b it, and then went away. There was only one perRoa in -the ambnlance ; the rest had been taken into the hoapilal, bnt lie had been left because lie was in a swoon, and tlioy were tiyiivg to restore hba. Those aronnd the ambulance made room for Miss Arundel as she approached, and she beheld a young man, covered with the stains of battle, and severely wounded ; but his countenance wasuniDJnred though insen- sible. His eyes were closed, and his auburn hair fell in clusters on Lis white forehead. The sister of mercy touched Uie pnlse t-o ascertain whether there yet was life, hnt, in tha J act, her own frame became agitated, and the coloor t her cheek, as she reoogniBed^LoTaAiB.
CHAPTER LXI.
Whkh Lotbwr in some degree regained consciousness, he fbund himself in bed. Tho chamber was lofty and dim, and had once been splendid. Tboughtf illness had invested it with an air of comfort rare under Italian roofs. The fagots sparkled on the hearth, the light from the windows was veiled with hangings, and tho draughts from the tall doors guarded against by screens. And by his bedside there were beaatifnl fiowers, and a cmcifix, and a silver bell.
Where was he ? He looked up at the velvet canopy above, and then at ttic pictures that covered tho walla, but Uiere was no familiar aspect. He romemhercd nothing ■incc he was shot down in the field of Mentana, and even that imperfectly.
And there liad been another battle before that, followed by a catastrophe srill more dreadful. When had all this happened, and where P He tried to movo his bandaged rorm, but he bad no strength, and bis mind seemed weaker
r
322 LOTKAIR.
than his frame. Bat he was soon sensible that he "was no^ alone. A veiled fignre gently lifted him, and another one refreshed his pillows. He spoke, or tried to speak, bat ono of them pressed her finger to her shronded lips, and he willingly relapsed into the silence which he had hardly fitrength enough to break.
And sometimes these veiled and gliding ministers bronght him sustenance and sometimes remedies, and he oomplied with all their suggestions, but with absolute listlesaness ; and sometimes a coarser hand interposed, and sometimes he caught a countenance that was not concealed, bnt was ever strange. He had a vague impression that they examined dmd dressed his wounds, and arranged his bandages ; bat whether he really had wounds, and whether he were or were not bandaged, he hardly knew, and did not oare to know. He was not capable of thought, and memory was an effort under which he always broke down. Day after day he remained silent and almost motionless alike in mind and body. He had a vague feeling that, after some great sorrows, and some great trials, he was in stfllness and in safety; and he had an indefinite mysterious sentiment of gratitude to some unknown power, that had cherished him in his dark calamities, and poured balm and oil into his wounds.
It was in this mood of apathy that, one evening, there broke upon his ear low but beautiful voices performing the evening service of the Church. His eye glistened, his heart was touched by the vesper speU. He listened with rapt attention to the sweet and sacred strains, and when they died away he felt depressed. Would they ever sound agaiaP
Sooner than he could have hoped, for, when he woke in the morning from his slumbers, which, strange to say, were always disturbed, for the mind and the memory seemed to work at night though in fearful and exhausting chaoSy the
LOTRAIR. 323
Bame divine molodicB that had Boollied him in the eve, now sounded in the glad and gTa.t«^ worehip of matin
' I have heard tho voico of ajagck," be jnDiToiircd to liis veiled dttendant.
The vesper mid the matiu bours bcctime at onoe the ejiocha of his day. Ho was ever thinking of them, and wxin was thintbg of the feelinga ^vhich their beantifiil ■^rvicea celebrate and express. Hia mind seemed no hjnj^r altogether a blank, and the rclignoua sentiment was tho first that returned to his exhausted heart.
'There will he a requiem to-day,' whispered one of his veiled attendants.
A requiem ! a service for the dead; a prayer for their peace and rest ! And who waH dead ? The bright, the matchless one, the spell and fa-scination of his hfe ! Was it poRsihleP Conid she be dead, who Eeemed vitality in ilf oonsammate form ? Was there ever snch a being a^ Theo- dora ? And if there were no Theodora on earth, why should one think of anything but heaven ?
The Bonuda camo floating down the chamber till they Gccracd to cluster round his brain ; eometimea soloiiin, Bometimea thrilling, sometimes the divine pathoa melting the haman litart with celestial sympathy and heavenly wdnce. The tears fell fast fi-om his agitated vision, and he fianlc back exhanst«d, almost insensible, on hia pillow.
■ The Church baa a heart for all our joys and all onr Siirrows, aud for all our hopes, and all our fears,' whispered a veiled attendant, as she bathed his temples with fVugrant
Though the condition of Lothair had at firat seemed dea. ponte, his yonthfiil and vigoroua frame had enabled him to rally, and with time and the infinite sohcitudu which he received, his case was rot without hope. But though his physical cure was aomenhat advanced, tho prostration of
324 LOTH AIR.
bit mrad seemed Rusccptible of no relief. ' The scrriceB of the Church accorded with his depressed condition ; ikey were the only events of his life, and he cherished them. His attendants now permitted and even encouraged him to speak, but he seemed entirely incurious and indifierent Sometimes they read to him, and he listened, but he never made remarks. The works which they selected had a re- ligious or ecclesiastical bias, even while they were ima> ginative; and it seemed difficult not to be interested by the ingenious fancy by which it was worked out, that everything that was true and sacred in heaven had its symbol and significance in the qualities and accidents of earth.
After a month passed in this manner, the surgeons having announced that Lothair might now prepare to rise from his bed, a veiled attendant said to him one day, ' There is a gentleman here who is a friend of yours, and who would like to see you. And perhaps you would like to see him also for other reasons, for you must have much to say to God after all that you have suffered. And he is a most holy man.'
* I have no wish to see anyone. Are you sure he is not a stranger ? ' asked Lothair.
^ He is in the next room,' said the attendant. ^ He has been here throughout your illness, conducting our services; oflen by your bedside when you were asleep, and always praying for you.'
The veiled attendant drew back and waved her hand, and some one glided forward and said in a low, soft voice, * You have not forgotten me ? *
And Lothair beheld Monsignore Catcsby.
^ It is a long time since we met,' said Lothair, looking at him with some scrutiny, and then all interest died away, and he turned away his vague and wandering eyee.
* But you know mo ? '
3^-S
I kuuvr iiot wLere I am, and I but tkintly oomprehend t has happened,' murmured Lothair, I *Yon are (unong friends,' said tlie Uonsignore, in tones W sympathy.
* WLal 1ms bappenod,' he added, with an air of mystory, oot amaiicd with a certain expression of ecstasy in hia glance, ' must be reserved for other times, when you are atrongfer, and can grapple with such high themes.'
' Bow long have I been here? ' enquired Lotboir, dream* ingly.
' It is a month since the Annunciation.*
' What Annunciation ? '
' Hash !' said the Monsignore, and he raised bis finger to his lip. ' We must not talk of these things, at least at present. No donht the same blessed person that saved yon from the jawa of death is at this moment guarding over your recovery and guiding it ; but we do not deserve, nor doea the Churob expect, perpetnal miracloB. We must avail ourselves, under Divine sanction, of the beneficent tendencies of nature ; and in your caso her operations must not be disturbed at this moment by any excitement, except, indeed, the glow of gratitude for celestial aid, and the inward joy which must pci'meate the being of anyone who fwls that he is among the moet fitvoured of men.'
From this time M on s ignore Catcsby scarcely ever quitted Lothair. He hailed Lotboir in the more, and parted from bim at night with a blessing ; and in the interval Cateaby devoted his whole Ufe, and the ineit- hanstible resources of his line and skilled intelligence to alleviate or amuse the existence of bia companion. Some- times he conversed with Ijothair, adroitly taking the chief borthen of the talk ; and yet, whether it were bright nar- ntive or lively dissertation, never seeming to lecture or hold forth, but relieving the monologue when expedient by Han Interesting enquiry, which he was always ready in due
326 LOTH AIR.
time to answer himself^ or softening the instmction by tlie playfnlness of his mind and manner. Sometimes he read to Lothair, and attuned the mind of his charge to the true spiritoal note by melting passages from A. Kempis or GhrjBostom. Then he -would bring a portfolio of wondrous drawings by the medieval masters, of saints and seraph^ and accustom the eye and thought of Lothair to the formi and fancies of the Court of Heaven.
One day Lothair, having risen from his bed for the first time, and lying on a soEel in an adjoining chamber to that in which he had been so long confined, the Monsignore seated himself by the side of Lothair, and, opening a port- folio, took out a drawing and held it before Lothair, observ- ing his countenance with a glance of peculiar scrutiny.
* Well ! ' said Gatesby after some little pause, as if await- ing a remark from his companion.
* 'Tis beautiful ! ' said Lothair. * Is it by Raffaelle ? '
* No ; by Fra Bartolomeo. But the countenance, do you remember ever having met such an one P '
Lothair shook his head. Gatesby took out another drawing, the same subject, the Blessed Virgin. ^By Giulio,' said the Monsignore, and he watched the face of Lothair, but it was listless.
Then he showed Lothair another and another and an- other. At last he held before him one which was really by Rafiaelle, and by which Lothair was evidently much moved. His eye lit up, a blush sufiused his pale cheek, he took the drawing himself and held it before his gaze with a trembling hand.
* Yes, I remember this,' he murmured, for it was one of those faces of Greek beauty which the great painter not infrequently caught up at Rome. The Monsignore looked gently round and waved his hand, and immediately there arose the hymn to the Virgin in subdued strains of ez- qaisite melody.
I On tlie next moming, whea Lothair woke, he fnond on B table bj his side tlie drawttig of the Virgin in a, atiding
About tliifi time the Monsignore began to accnstom Lothoir to leave hia apartment, and as ha was not yet per- iiiitled to walk, Cat«aby introdoced what he called an English chair, in which Lothair was enabled to survey a. Utile the place which bad buon to him a refuge and a home. It seemed a building of vast size, raised round an inner court with arcades and windows, and, iii the higher story whore ho resided, an apparently endloaa number of chambers and galleries. One morning, in their peram- bulations, the Monsignore unlocked the door of a covered way which had no light but from a lamp which guided tlieir passage. The opposite door at the end of this covered way opened into a church, hut one of a charactei difierent from any which Lotlialr hod yet entered.
It had been raised dnring the latter half of the aisteenth century by Vignola, when, under the influence of the gi'eat Pagan revival, the Christian Cimrch began to assume the character of an Olympian temple. A central painted cnpola of large but exquisite proportjous, supported by pilaslera with gilded capitals, and angels of white marble Springing irom golden brackets; walla encrusted with rare materials of every tint, and altars supported by serpentine oolnmns of agate and alabaster; a blaze of pictures, aud ■tatneB, and precious atones, and precioua metals, denoted one of th« chiof temples of the sacred brotherhood of JesQB, raided when the great order had recognised that the views of primitive and medifeval Christianity, foanilod on the bnniilitry of man, were not in accordauce with the aga of confidence in human snergy, in which they were dcs~ ttued to rise, and which they were determined to direct.
Onided by Catcsbj, and leaning on a staff, Lothaii
Lned a gorgeona tiido chapel in which maas was c«lo-
^^pined a
328 LOTH AIR.
bratmg; the air was rich with inoense, and all heaveD seemed to open in the ministrations of a seraphic choir. Crashed hj his g^reat calamities, both physical and moral, Lothair sometimes felt that he conld now be content if ths rest of his life conld flow away amid this celestial fira* grance and these gnsliing sounds of heavenly melody. And absorbed in these feelings it was not immediately observed by him that on the altar, behind the daszling blaze of tapers, was a picture of the Virgin, and identically the same countenance as that he had recognised vnth emo- tion in the drawing of Baffaelle.
It revived perplexiog memories which agitated him, thoughts on which it seemed his brain had not now strength enough to dwell, and yet with which it now seemed inevitable for him to grapple. Tho congregation was not very numerous, and when it broke up, several of tht^m lingered behind and whispered to the Monsigoore, and then, after a little time, Catesby approached Lotbair and said, ^ There are some here who would wish to kiss your hand, or even touch the hem "of your garments. It is troublesome, but natural, considering all that hss occurred and that this is the first time, perhaps, that they may have met anyone who has been so fiivoured.*
' Favoured ! ' said Lothair ; ' am I favoured P It seems to me I am the most forlorn of men, if even I am that.'
' Hush ! ' said the Monsignore, * we must not talk of these things at present ; ' and he motioned to some who approached and contemplated Lothair with blended curio- Bity and reverence.
These visits of Lothair to the beautiful church of the Jesuits became of daily occurrence, and oflen happened several times on the same day ; indeed they formed tho only incident which seemed to break his Ustlessness. He became interested in the change and variety of the services, in the persons and characters of the officiating priests.
E
e Eoli manners of ttieso fathers, their mtelligcnce in the
of tlioir offices, their obliging carriage, and
nnalTect^d concern with wlucb all he said or did eeemed
to inspire them, won upon liim unconsciously. The church
had beeomo his world ; and his sjnnpathies, if he still hod
ejinpathies, Bcemed confined to those within its walls.
In the meantime his physical odvanceinent though slow was gradnal, and had hitherto never been arrested. He coold even walk a little alone, though artiGcially snpportfid, and rambled about the balls and galleries fiill of a pro- digious quantity of pictures, from the days of Haffael Soimo to those of KaETael Mengs.
' The doctors think now wo might try a little di-Jve," said
the Monaignore one morning. ' The rains have ceaaed and
rofreBhed everything, To-day ia like tlie burst of sprini;.'
And when Lothoir eeoracd to shudder at the idea of facing
anything hke the external world, the Moutiignore BUggcsIud
■mmediutely that they ehonld go oat in a close carriage,
rlilcb they finally entered in the huge quadrangle of the
Lothair was so nervous that he pulled down
ren the blind of his window ; and tlie Monsij^orc, who
[ways humoured hiia, half pulled down his own.
Their progroes seemed through a silent land and they
hardly be traversing streets. Then the ascent be-
a little precipitous, and then the carriage stopped and
Monsignore said, ' Hero is a solitary epot. We shall
e. The view is charming, and tlie air ia soft.'
id he placed his hand gently on the arm of Lothair, and,
as it were, drew him out of the carriage.
The sun was bright, and the sky was bland. There waa BoroetUing in the breath of nature that was delightful. The Goent of violets was worth all the incense in the world ; all the splendid marbles and priestly vestments seemed hard aod cold when compared with the glorious colours of the jDBctns and the wild forms of tlic golden a:ul gigantic aloes.
330 LOTHAIR,
The Fayoni&D breeze played od the brow of Uiia beactiflil hill, and the exqniidte palm trees, while thej bowed tbdr roBtling heads, answered in responsive chorna to the anti- phon of nature.
The dreary look that had been so long imprinted on the &oe of Lothair melted away.
* 'Tis well that we came, is it not ? * said Catesby ; ' and now we wiU seat ourselves.' Below and before them, on an nndnlating site, a city of palaces and ohnrches sprend out its aognst form, enclosing within its ample walls soms* times a wilderness of classic ruins, oolunm and arch and theatre, sometimes the umbrageous spread of princely gardens. A winding and turbid river divided the city in unequal parts, in one of which there rose a vast and glorious temple, crowned with a dome of almost super- human size and skill, on which the favourite sign of heaven flashed with triumphant truth.
The expression of relief which, for a moment, had re- posed on the face of Lothair, left it when he said in an agitated voice, ' I at length behold Rome ! '
CHAPTER LXII.
Thu recognition of Rome by Lothair evinced not only a consciousness of locality, but an interest in it not before exhibited ; and the ^lonsignore soon afler seized the oppor- tunity of drawing the mind of his companion to the past^ and feeling how far he now realised the occurrences that immediately preceded his arrival in the city. But Lothair would not dwell on them. * I wish to think of nothing,' ho said, * that happened before I entered this city : all I desire now is to know those to whom I am indebted ioiz my preservation in a condition that seemed hopeless.'
LOTH A IR. 331
'There is LOtLing hopelosE with Divine aid,' saJd the Uonsignore ; * bat, humauly speaking, jou are indebted for jnonr preBerTB.tioa to English friouda, long and iutd- mately cheristicd. It is under their roof thut 70Q dwell, the Agostini palace, temuiled by Lord St. Jerome.'
* Lord St. Joronie ! ' mnrmorod Lothulr to himself.
'And the ladies of his honae are those who, only with some slight aaaiBljince from my poor self, tended you Uironghoat your moat deaperabi state, and when we aome- limefi almost feared that mind and body were alike wrecked."
' I have a dream of angola,' said Lotboir ; ' and Bom&- dmeB 1 Iiiit«ned to heavenly voices that I seemed to have heard before.'
'I am sure yoo have not forgotten the ladies of that hnuse? ' eaid Cntesby watching his coautenaiiee.
' No; one of theni snmmoned me U> meet her at Rome,' laarmnrcd Lotliair, 'and I am het-e.'
' That summons was divine,' snid Cateshy, ' and only the herald of tbe great event that was oi'daiued and has since OccDTrud. In this holy city Misa Arundel must ever count B8 the moat sanctified of her sex.'
Lotliair relapsed into eiieaifl, which Bubaenuently ap- pear«d to be meditation, for when the carriage stopped, and the Monsignore assisted him to alight, he said, * I most see Lord St. Jerome.*
And in the al'tomoon, wiLh due and preparatory an- ^^Ipniuwnient, Lord St. Jerome wuited on Lothiur. The ^■HonBignore nsLered htm into the chamber, and, though he ^^HA tbom as it wore alone, never quitted it. He watched ^Bbem conversing, while he seemed to be arranging books ■' Mid Bowera-, he hovered over the couforonL-e, dropping down on them at a critical momeut, when the words be- I either hinguid or ctiibarraBsing. Loi-d St. Jerome 1 a hearty inao, simple aud high-bred. He addressed
Bwu a
332 LOTH AIR.
Lothair with all his former kindness, but wiih some degree of reserve, and even a dash of ceremony. LoUiftir was not insensible to the alteration in his manner, bat could ascribe it to many causes. He was himself resolved to make an effort, when Lord St. Jerome rose to depart, and expressed the intention of Lady St Jerome to wait on him on the morrow. ' No, my dear Lord,' said Lothair; * to-morrow I make my first visit, and it shall be to my best friends. I would try to come this evening, but thej will not be alone ; and I must see them alone, if it be only
once.*
This visit of the morrow rather pressed on the nervoaa system of Lothair. It was no slight enterprise, and called up many recollections. He brooded over his engagement daring the whole evening, and his night was disturbed. His memory, long in a state of apathy, or curbed and controlled into indifference, seemed endowed with unnatural vitality, reproducing the history of his past life in rapid and exhausting tumult. All its scenes rose before him, Brentliam, and Vauxe, and Muriel, and closing with oue absorbing spot, which, for a long time, it avoided, and in which all merged and ended, Belmont. Then came that anguish of the heart, which none can feel but those who in the youth of life have lost some one infinitely fascinating and dear, and the wild query why he too had not fallen on the fatal plain which had entombed all the hope and inspiration of his existence.
The interview was not so trying an incident as Lothair anticipated, aa often under such circumstances occurs. Miss Arundel was not present ; and in the second place, although Lothair could not at first be insensible to a cliange in the manner of Lady St. Jerome, aa well as in that of her lord, exhibiting as it did a degree of deference and ceremony which with her towards him were quite unusual, still the genial, gushing nature of this lively and
^tlioBiAdtic woman, full oC sjnipathy, i
i her heart nas overflowing with s lesings, and gratitude for his escape.
'And aft«r all,' she saiil, 'everything must have been ordained ; and, without ttiese tnala and even calamitica, ■Ahal great event could not have been brought abont which fcanet make all hail you ae the moat favonrcd of men.' H Lotbaii- Btared with a look of perplexity, and tben said, ■• If I be the moat favonreil of men, it is only because two angelic beings have deigned to minister to me in my k sweet devotion I can never forget, and,
CHAPTER LXIIL
^KlOTHiiK was not destined to meet Clare Arundel alone or ^BBsly in the presence of bor family. He had acceded, after a short lime, to the wish of Lady St, Jerome, and the advice of Monaignore Catesby, to wait on her in the erening, when Lady St. Jerome was always at home and never alone. Her rooms were the privileged resort of the very cream of Roman society and of those English who, p like herself, had returned to the Roman Church. An dian palace supplied an excellent occastoa for the display ? the peculiar genius of our countrywomen to make a e habitable. Beaotifnl carpets, baskets of flowers, and Mee of ferns, and chairs which yon could sit upon, tables covered with an infinity of toys, spwkling, uHofnl, and fdntiiBtic, huge siikcn screens of rich colonr, and a profu- Q of light, produced a acece of combined comfort and tillittncy which made everyone social who entered it, and nmed to give a bright and gracefitl tnm even to the releu remarks of ordinary gossip. ' Ijady St, Jerome rose the moment hor eyo nanglil Uie
334 LOTH AIR.
eutry of Loihair, and, adTancing, received him with an fui of oeremonj, mixed, however, with an expression of per- sonal devotion which was distressing to him, and singnlariy oontrasted with the easy and genial receptions that he remembered at Vanxe. Then Ladj St. Jerome led Loihair to her companion whom she had just quitted, and pre- sented him to the Princess Tarpeia-Cinqne Cento, a dame in whose veins, it was said, flowed both consular and pontifical blood of the rarest tint.
The Princess Tarpcia- Cinque Cento was the greatest kdj in Rome ; had still vast possessions, palaces and villas and vineyards and broad &rms. Notwithstanding all that had occurred, she still looked upon the kings and emperors of the world as the mere servants of the Pope, and on the old Roman nobility as still the Conscript Fathers of the world. Her other characteristic was superstition. So she was most distinguished by an irrepressible haughtiness and an illimitable credulity. The only softening circumstance was that, being in the hands of the Jesuits, her religion did not assume an ascetic or gloomy character. She was fond of society, and liked to show her wondrous jewels, which were still unrivalled, although she had presented His Holiness in his troubles with a tiara of diamonds.
There were rumours that the Princess Tarpeia- Cinque Cento had on occasions treated even the highest nobility of England with a certain indifiference ; and all agreed that to laymen, however distinguished, her Highness was not prone too easily to relax. But, in the present instance, it is difficult to convey a due conception of the graciousness of her demeanour when Loihair bent before her. She appeared even agitated, almost rose from her seat, and blushed through her rouge. Lady St. Jerome, guiding Lothair into her vacant seat, walked away.
* We shall never forget what you have done for us,' said the Princess to Lothair.
LOTH AIR. 33S
' I have done nothing," anid Lothair, with a surprised air.
'Ah, that is bo like ^ftod beings like yoa,' said the
Princesa. ' Tbey never will think they have done Miy-
tliinj;, even wore they to Biive the world,'
I, ' You are too graciooa, Princeaa," aaid Lothair ; ' I hare
^bo clnjms to esteem vhich all mast eo value.'
^H ' Who has, if yon have not P ' rejoined the Pruicean,
^VTes, it ia to yon and to yon alone that we must look, I
^^im very impartial in what I eay, for, to be frank, I have
not been of those who believed that the great chftmpion
would rise without the patrimony of St, Petr-r, I am
ashamed to say that I have even looked with jeaJonsy on
ths energy tlint haa been shown by indii-idaak in other
eonntrieB ; bat I now confess that I was in error. I can-
^_BOt resist this manifestation. It is a privilege to have
BKred when it hapjicned. All that wo can do now is to
^Hbensh your favoured Ufc'
^B ' Ton are too kind. Madam,' murmured the perplexed Eothair.
'I have done notbing,* rejoined the Princess, 'and am uhamed that I have done nothbg. But it b well for you, at this season, to be at Rome ; and you cannot be better, I Tiia snre, than under this roof. Bat when the spring breaks, I hope you will hoaonr me, by accepting for your use a villa which I have at Albano, and which at thnt season has many charms.'
There were other Roman ladies in the room only inferior in rank and importance to the Princeaa Tarpeio-Ciuquo Cento ; and in the course of the evening, at tlioir earnest request, they were made ac(|uaint«d with Lothair, for it cannot bo said he was presented to them. These ladies, gBnerslly so calm, would not wait for the ordinary oere- mony of life, bnt, as he approached to be introduced, sank o the gronnd with the obeiaanoe oflered only to royalty. f Tbere were some cardinals in the apartment and Eevoml
336 LOTH AIR.
moDfli^ori. Caiesby was there in dose attendanoe on a pretty English countess who had jost *gone over.' Her husband had been at first very much distressed at the event, and tore himself from the severe duties of the House of Lords in the hope that he might yet arrive in time ai Rome to save her souL But he was too late ; and, strange to say, being of a domestic turn, and disliking fekmily dis- sensions, he remained at Rome during the rest of tiie session, and finally * went over ' himself.
Later in the evening arrived his Eminence Cardinal Berwick, for our friend had gained and bravely gained the great object of a churchman's ambition, and which e?en our Laud was thinking at one time of accepting, although he was to remain a firm Anglican. In the death-struggle between the Church and the Secret Societies, Berwick had been the victor, and no one in the Sacred College more truly deserved the scarlet hat.
His Eminence had a reverence of radiant devotion for the Princess Tai*peia- Cinque Cento, a glance of friendship for Lady St. Jerome, for all a courtly and benignant smile; but when he recognised Lothair, he started forward, seized and retained his hand, and then seemed speechless with emotion. * Ah ! my comitule in the great struggle,' he at length exclaimed; 'this is indeed a pleasure, and to see you here ! '
Early in the evening, while Lothair was sitting by the side of the Princess, his eye had wandered round the room, not unsuccessfully, in search of Miss Arundel ; and when ho was free he would immediately have approached her, but she was in conversation with a Roman prince. Then when she was for a moment free, ho was himself engaged ; and at last he had to quit abruptly a cardinal of taste, who was describing to him a statue just discovered in the baths of DiocletiazLy in order to seize the occasion that again offered itselfl
LOTH AIR.
337
Her manner was constrained wlien he addressed Iier, but aha gftve liim her hand which ho pressed to hia lipn. Look ing deeply into hor violet eyes bo Boid, ' You sunxmouQd me k'> meet jitu ut Rome; 1 am here.'
' And I summoned you to other things,' she answered, at first with hesitation and a blush ; bat then, aa if rallying heraelf to the purfurmance of a duty too high to allow of personal embarrassment, alie added, ' all of which jou will perform, as becomes one favoured by Heaven,'
' I have been favoared by you,' siiid Lothair, speaking low and hurriedly; 'to whom 1 owe my life and more than my life. Yea,' he coutiiiued, 'this is not (he iwene I would have chosBU to express my gratitude to you for all tlmt yon have done for me, and my admii-ution of your snb- 1 but I can no longer repress the feehngs of 1, tiiongli their utterance be as inadequate as yocr
e been truiiaeendeiil.' s but the instrument of a higher Power." V all instrumenla of a higher Power, but the ia- mcDts chosen are always choice.'
I it is,' said Miss Arundel ; ' and that is what « you feeL For it is impossible that such a selection d have been made, as in your case, without your being 1 for great results.'
1 shuttered actor for great results,' aaid Lulhair, shaking his head.
' Yuu have bad trials,' said Miss Amndel ; ' so hod St. Ignatius, su bad St. Francis, and great temptations; but these are the tests of eliaracter, of will, of spiritual power : the line gold is searched. All tbinga that Ijnvo happened have U'uded and been ordained to one end, awl (hat waa lo make you the uham|iion of the Chureh of which yon ari» now more than the cliild.' ■ Uore than the child ? ' 'Indeed 1 think so. However, this ia liardly the place
338 LOTH AIR.
and occasion to dwell on snch matters ; and, indeed, I knov jour friends, my friends equally, are desiroos that ycmr convalescence should not be annecessarilj disturbed by what must be, however delightful, still agitating thoughts; but you touched yourself unexpectedly on the theme, and at any rate you will pardon one who has the inconvenient quality of having only one thought.'
' Whatever you say or think must always interest me.' ' You are kind to say so. I suppose you know that oar Cardinal, Cardinal Grandison, will be here in a few days?*
CHAPTER LXIV.
A.LTHOUGH the reception of Lothair by his old fncnds and by the leaders of the lloman world was in the highest degree flattering, there was sometliing in its tone which was perplexing to him and ambiguous. Could they be ignorant of his Italian antecedents ? Impossible. Miss Arundel had ad mitted, or rather declared, that he had ex- perienced pneat trials, and even temptations. She could only allnde to what had occurred since their parting in England. But all this was now looked upon as satis- factory, because it was onlained, and tended to one end ; and what was that end ? His devotion to the Church of Rome, of which they admitted he was not formally a child. It was true that his chief companion was a pnest, and that ho passed a great portion of his life within the walk of a church. But the priest was his familiar friend in England, who in a foreign land had nursed him with devo- tion in a desperate illness; and although in the great calamities, physical and moral, that had overwhelmed him, ho h3xi found solace in the beautiful services of a reliirion •vhich he respected, no one for a moment had taken ad-
LOT HAIR.
339
vanfAge of thin mood of his suflering and enfeebled mind to encmp him into controversy, or to betray him into •idntissions that be might afterwards consider precipitate «.iid immature. Indeed nothing conld be more delicate Ihan the coudnct of the Jesuit fathers thronghout his com- niDnications with thetu. Thoy seemed sincerely gratified tli!it a snffering fellow-creatnre shonid find even temporary consolation within (.heir fair and consecrated stmctni-e ; their voices modulated with Eympathy ; their glances gnsbed with fraternal aifection ; their afl'ectjonato polite- ness contrived, in a thousand slight instances, the selection of a mass, the arrangement of a picture, the loan of a book, to contribute to the interesting or elegaul distraction of his forlorn and brooding being.
And yet Lolhair began to feel nnea«j, and his uneasiness increased proportionately as his health improved. He sometimes thought that he should like to make an efibrt and get about a little in the world; but he was very weak, and withont any of the rcnonrces to which he had been ftt^nnelomed thronghout life. Me hud no servants of hia no carriages, no moil of bttstness, no banker; and I at last he tried to bring himself to write to Mr. htney Giles, a painful task, Monsignore Cfltesby offered I undertake bis whole correspondence for him, and an- Bonnced that his medical attendants had declared that he most under no circumslancea whatever attempt at present to wrrile a letter. Hitherto ho Jmd been without money, ^^vhich was lavishly supplied for his physicians and other ^Htkuts ; and he would have been withont clothes if the ^^boAt fashionable tailor in Rome, a German, had not been ^"In frequent attendance on him under the direction of Monsignore Catesby, who in fact bad orgBJiieed biE ward- robe as he did everjthing else.
Soroebow or other Lothair never seemed alone, When B woke in the morning the Kousignore waa fi-eqnently
Br a
Kawot
340 LOTH AIR.
kneeling before an oratory in bis room, and if by any chance Lothair was wanting at Lady St. Jerome's re- ception, Father Coleman, who was now on a visit to the family, would look in and pass the evening with bim, ss men who keep a gaming table find it discreet occasionally to change the dealer. It is a huge and even stupendous pile, that Palazzo Agostini, and yet Lothair never tried to thread his way through its vestibules and galleries, or attempt a reconnaissance of its endless chambers without some monsignore or othei; gliding up quite apropos, and relieving him from the duhiess of solitary existence during the rest of his promenade.
Lothair was relieved by hearing that his former guardian, Cardinal Grandison, was daily expected at Rome ; and he revolved in his mind whether he should not speak to his Eminence generally on the system of his life, which he felt now required some modification. In the interval, however, uo change did occur. Lothair attended every day the services of the chuit*h, and every evening the receptions of Lady St. Jerome ; and between the discharge of these two duties he took a drive with a priest, sometimes with more than one, but always most agreeable men, generally in the environs of the city, or visited a convent, or a villa, some beautiful gardens, or a gallery of works of art.
It was at Lady St. Jerome's that Lothair met his former guardian. The Cardinal had only arrived in the morning. His manner to Lothair was afiectionate. He retained Lothair's hand and pressed it with his pale, thin fingers; his attenuated countenance blazed for a moment with a divine light.
1 have long wished to see you, sir,' said Lothair, * and much wish to talk with you.*
* I can hear nothing from you nor of you but what must be most pleasing to me,' said the Cardinal.
* I ^ish I could believe that,' said Lothair.
LOTH AIR.
34'
w
[
The Cardmnl carcRsed him ; pat Lis arm rooiid Lolhaiv's Deck aiid Baid, 'There is no time like tbe presGut. Let us w&lk together in this ^Itaiy,' aad tiiey witlidrew naturvlly from the immediate Bcpne.
' Tun knuw all that has happened, I daresaj,' suid LolLair with embai't'dssmeitt and with a sigh, 'since we pftrted in Engliind, sir.'
'All,' said the Cardiual. ' II has been a most striking and merciful dispoiisation.'
'Thenl need not dn-eU upon it,' said Lothair, ' and natundly it would be most painful. What I wish purtitti- larly tu spuak to jou about is mj poaitiou under this roof. What I awe to those who dwell under it no language can describe, and no eObrta on my pari, and they shall be on- censing, ctm repay. Bat I think the time hna come when X ought no loii^r to trespass on their allectionato devotion, though, when I allude to the topic, they seem to mis- intfirpret the motives which influence me, and to bo pained rather than relieved by my auggi^stions. I cannot hear being looked upon as ungrateful, when it to them. I think, sir, you might help i this right."
' If it be necessary,' said the Cardinal ; yon misconceive them. When I last left Rome yon wew
iij ill, but I.ady St. Jerome and others have written to almost daily abont you daring ray absence, so that I familiar with all that has occurred, and quite cognisant their feelings. Rest assured that, towards yourself, they are exactly what they ought to be and whnt you would desire.'
* Well I am glad,' said Lothair, ' that you are acquainted with everything that has happened, for you can put them right if it be necessary; but I somelimus cannot hi<l|i bncying that they are under some faUe imprcuwon both
to mv conduct and my couviclions.'
□ fact I am devoted 1 putting all
' but I apprehend
342 LOTH AIR.
' Not in the aligbtest,' said the Cardinal, * trust me, my dear friend, for that. Thej know everything and appre- ciate everything ; and great as, no doubt, have been your Bufierings, feel that everything has been ordiiined for the best; that the hand of the Almighty has been visible tlirooghont all these strange events ; that His Chorch was never more clearly built npon a rock than at this moment ; that this great manifestation will revive, and even restore, the faith of Christendom ; and that you yourself most be looked npon as one of the most favoured of men.'
* Everybody says that,* said Lothair rather peevishly.
' And everybody feels it,' said the CardinaL
'^ell, to revert to lesser points,' said Lothair. * I do not say I want to return to England, for I dread returning to England, and do not know whether I shall ever go back there; and at any nite I doubt not my health at present is unequal to the effort ; but I should like some change in my mode of life. I will not say it is too much cuntrolled, for nothing seems ever done without first cousulting me ; but, some how or other, we are always in the same groove. I wish to see more of the world ; I wish to see Rome, and the people of Rome. I wish to see and do many things which, if I mention, it would seem to hurt the feelings of others, and my own are misconceived, but if mentioned by you all would probably be diflerent.'
*I understand you, my dear young fritMul, my child, I will still say,' said the Cardinal. * Nothing can be moi% reasonable than what you suggest. No doubt our friends may be a little too anxious about you, but they are the best people in the world. You appear to me to he quite well enough now to make more exertion than hitherto tlu'y have thought you capable of. They see you every day, and cannot judge so well of you as I who have been absent. I will charge myself to effect all your wishes. And we will begin by my taking you out to-morrow and 3'our driving
LOTHAIR. 343
ivitb me aboat the city. I will eliow yon. Borne and tba Eomain people.'
t Accordingly, on the morrow, Cardinal Gmndison and his fB papi1 visited together Rome and the li-omans. And first nil L»tltair was presented to tbo Cardinal Prefect of tite upaganda, who presides over tlie ecclesiastical aSaira of every coootiy in which the Roman Clmrch has a misAioii, Kud that indndos every land between the Arctic and tlie '! Sonthem Pole. This glimpae of the orfraTiised correspond- ^^nce with buth the Ameincas, all A^iu, all Afniuk, all ^^BLfflstralia, and many European conntries, carried on by a ^^oontless staff of clerks in one of tiie mo^t cajiacious huiUI- 1 ings in the world, was calculated to impress the visitor with a dne idea of the extensive authority of the Roman PoDtiff. This institution, greater, according to the C»r- dinal, than any which existed in ancient Rome, was to propagate the faith, the purity of which the next establish- ment tbey visited waa to maintain. According to Carditiiil ■'Oraudison thrre never was a body tbe diameter of which i been so wilfully and so malignantly misrepresented aa ut of llie Roman Inquisition. Its trae object is relbrma- I not punishment, and therefore pardon waa anre to r the admiaaioQ of error. True it was there worp tvulting stories afloat, for winch there was undoubtedly I foundation, though their cKaggoration and malice e evident, of the mthlesa conduct of the Inquisition; nt these details were entirely conliiicil to Spain, and were a oonaequences not of tlie principles of tiie Holy Office, bnt of the S]miiisli race, poisoned by Moorish and Jewish blood, or by long contact with those inhuman iutidels. Had it not been for the Inqnisition organi^in}^ and direct- l the mitigating inHnences of tlio Church, S|K<iii would lave been a land of wild beasts; and even la quite modern fas the Holy Office at Rome which aJwayR stopiNXJ ward to pi'otfct the [H-i-secuted, and, by tliu power of
344 LOTH AIR,
3ip[»ea] from Madrid to Rome, saved the lives of Uiobg who were unjustly or extravagantly accused.
' The real business however of the Holy Office now,' continued the Cardinal, ' is in reality only doctrinal ; and there is something truly sublime, essentially divine, I wonM say, in this idea of an old man, like the Holy Father, him- self the object of ceaseless persecution by all the children of Satan, never foi a moment relaxing his heaven-inspired efforts to maintain the purity of the faith once delivered to the Saints, and at the same time to propagate it throigh- out the whole world, so that there should be no land on which the sun shines that should not afford means of salva- tion to suffering man. Yes, the Propaganda and the In- quisition alone are sufficient to vindicate the sacred claims of Rome. Compared with them mere secular and humau institutions, however exalted, sink into insignificance.'
These excursions with the Cardinal were not only re- peated, but became almost of daily occurrence. The Car- dinal took Lothair with him in his visits of business, and introduced him to the eminent characters of the city. Some of these priests were illustrious scholars, or votaries of science, whose names were quoted with respect and as authority in the circles of cosmopolitan philoRO]>hy. Then there were other institutions at Rome, which tlie Cardinal snatched occasions to visit, and which, if not so awfully venerable as the Propaganda and the Inquisition, never- theless iestifiod to the advanced civilisation of Rome and the Romans, and the enlightened administration of the Holy Father. According to Cardinal Grandison, all the great modem improvements in the administration of hos- pitals and prisons originated in the eternal city ; scientific ventilation, popular lavatories, the cellular or silent system, the reformatory. And yet these were nothing compared tvith the achievements of the Pontifical Government in education. In short, complete popular education only
LOTHAIR. 3^5
[ mX Borne. lift ecliouls weiv iriutv iiDnieroas even a foontnins. Gmlaiu>D3 iiistrni'lion orij^'naUxl wiUi the ecclesiBfitiofi ; and rraiu the night gcIiooI to Uio ani- Tersity ticre niiglit lie foaiii] the perfuct t^po.
*I rc&llj believe,' Mid tlic Cnailinnl, ' tliiit a mo ro vir- tuous, a more t'eligiona, a timrc liapiijamU-unlpntfd [■■■oplo than the BoinaDB never existed. Tlief could all be ke|it in ordur witk the putini of one of your poautieB. Trae it is the Uuljr Fullicr is obliged to garrison the city n-itli tnclre tlionsand uiuu of all niiua, hut out ugaicBt tbo Etonians, not BgaioEt hi& onu sobjecta. It ia the Secret Sucictiea of 1 who have e^inlilisbcd their lodges in this city, ^tircly oonsistiitg of foreigneni, that render these lament- e precnnlions neoessary TIlcj wiU not rtst niiiil tliey !itirpHt«d the rvligious princi^ile frtim tht:< soul of man, and until they have reduced him to tlie condition of wild beasts. But tiiey will fail, aa tlicy failed the other day, as Sennacherib failed. These men may conquer Zouayes and CoiniBsicrR, but tboy cannot tight against Saint Michael and all the Angels. They may do mi&vUief, tUey may aggravate and prolong the misery of man, bnt tbey UTd o entire and eternal failure.'
CHAPTER LXV.
tDT St. Jeroue was much interested in the accoontfl liicJi the Cardinal and Lothair gave hoi' of their cxcnrsions 1 the city and their viaiis.
ime.' fcbe tiiid, 'I ever knew such good i they onijht to be i t>o favonreJ by Heaven, and I Uie wliicii, if anything earthly can, most give TTer faint, some foretuste of uur Joys hereafWr. Ijroor GminencB visit the Pellegrini r' ' TUm was tb£ bocpital wliciv kliss Aruudel liad found Iiothittr.
346 LOTHAIR.
The Cardinal lookod grave. *No/ he replied. *My objeofc was to aocnre for our joang friend some interesting but not agitating distraction from oertain ideas which, however admirable and transcendently important, are nevertheless too high and profound to permit their oonstant contemplation with impunity to our infirm natnrea Be- sides,' he added, in a lower, but still dibidnct tonei, ' I waa myself unwilling to visit in a mere casual manner the scene of what I must consider the greatest event of this centnxy.'
' But 70U have been there ? ' enquired Lady St. Jerome.
His Eminence crossed himselfl
In the course of the evening Monsignore Catesby told Lothair that a gprand service was about to be celebrated at the church of St. (Jeorg^ : thanks were to be ofiered to the Blessed Virgin by Miss Arundel for the miraculous mercy vouchsafed to her in saving the life of a countryman, Lothair. ' All her friends will make a point of being there,* added the Monsignore, ' even the Protestants and some Russians. Miss Arundel was very unwilling at first to fulfil this office, but the Holy Father has commanded it. J know that nothing will induce her to ask you to attend ; and 3'et, if I were you, I would turn it over in your mind. I know she said that she would sooner that you were pro- sent than all her English friends together. However, you can think about it. One likes to do what is proper.'
One does ; and yet it is difficult. Sometimes in doing what we think proper, we get into irremediable 8cra|)efl ; and often, what we hold to be proper, society in its caprice resolves to be highly improper.
Lady St. Jerome had wished Lothair to see Tivoli, and they were all consulting together when they might go there. Lord St. Jei*ome who, besides his hunters, had his drag at Rome, wanted to drive them to the place. Lothair sate opposite Miss Arundel, gazing on her beauty. It was like being at Vauxe again. And yet a great deal had happened
LOT HAIR.
347
r they were 8.t VaiiW! ; and wliat ? So far as they two e concerned, nothing but what ehonld create orcoufinn 'relations of conBdence and atTcction. Whatever may have been the influence of otiiers on his existence, hers at leiiat had been one of intiiiite benigtiily. She bad saved hia life, Bhe had cherished it. She had niised him from the lowest depth of physical and moral praatralioti to health and cam- {wntive serenity. If at Vause he had beheld her with ad- miration, had listened with fasciuutcd interest to tlie fervid expression of her saintly thoughts, and the large pnrposea of hor heroic mind, all these feelings were natarally height- _ ened now when he had witnessed her lofty and consecrated □ action, and when that action in his own case had oly been exercised for his ineSabie advantage. ' Your uncle cannot go to-morrow,' continued Lady S6, rome, 'and on Thursday I am CDgaged.'
'And on Friday ' said Misa Arundel, heaitatiiig.
a all engaged,' said Lady St. Jei'oiue. ' 1 shonld hardly wish to go out befoi-e Friday anywhere,' ■id Miss Arundel, speaking to her anut, and in a lowei
Friday was the day on which the thanliBgiving service raa to be celebrated in the Jesuit church of 8t, George of
ippadocia. Lotbair know this well enough and was em- ikagiving for the mercy vouchsafed to Hiving the life of a fellow-countryman, juntryiiian not present! All her Pt-o- uld be there, and some HoasianB. And ieemcd, on hia part, the most ungracions induct. And he knew thut ahe wonid to that of all her acauaiDtfi.ncea together. nngi'Bcious on hia part ; it was un-
a Amndel ii that fellow BHtatit frienda ^ be not there I ] &nd intolcmble prefer hia pi It was
Kwit
^T&teful, almost iiil
Lotbair tiate ailoul, and stupid, a with himself. Once or twice he i
id BtitT
and disttatialied sjieak, but hit
348 LOTH AIR.
tongue would not move, or his throat was not cleajr. And if he had spoken, he would only have made some trifling and awkward remark. In his mind's eye he. saw, gliding about him, the veiled figure of his sick room, and he recalled with cloaruess the unceasing and angelic tender- ness of which at the time he seemed hardly conscious.
Miss Arundel had risen and had proceeded some way down the room to a cabinet where she was accustomed to phice her work. Suddenly Lothair rose and followed her. * Miss Arundel ! ' he said, and she looked round, hardly stopping when he had reached her. 'Miss Arundel, I hoi)e you will permit me to be present at the celebration on Friday P '
She turned round quickly, extending, even eagerly, her hand with mantling cheek. Her eyes glittered with celestial fire. The words hurried from her palpitating lips : ' And support me,* she said, * for I need support.'
In the evening reception, ^lousigiiore Catesby approached Father Coleman. * It is done,' he said, with a look of eeintly triumph. ' It is done at last. He will not only ho present, but he will support her. There are yet eight and forty hours to elapse. Can anything happen to defeat us ? It would seem not ; yet when so much is at stake, one is fearful. He must never be out of our sight ; not a hunma being must approach him.'
' I think we can manage that,' said Father Coleman.
CHAPTEE LXVI.
B JeGuIt ohnrch of St, Geoi-ge of Cappadocia wac aitnato I fiiieet piazzAs of Rome. It was eiUTonndecl with Rr<;adeE, ami in ita centre the most beautiful fountain ijf ihe city Bpoulecl forth its atrpnins (o an amazing height, Hriil iu forrnB of grsu;cfiil faiii-y. On Friday morning tho iiri:iiilc8 were ftstoonud with tapestry and hangings of criroBOO velvet and gold. Evei'y (lai-t wiia crowdi.id, and all the rank and faahion and power of Rome seemed to lie ihcre a.-<ectnb1ing. There had been once some intention on ilifl part of tlio Holy Father to be present, but a slight riidii position bad rendered that not desirable. His HoIineeH, however, had ordered a company of his halberdiera to attend, and the ground waa kept by those wonderful gtiarda in the of Ihe middle ages; halberds and rnfi's, and white s, and party-coloured coats, a match for our beef- . Carriages with scarlet umbrellafi on the box, and :h with three serving men behind, denol.eii the presence bT the cardinals in force. They were nsnally brilliant o'juipagc^, being sulFicionily new, or aiifficii'iitly new pur- chases, Oarilialdi and the late commanding oiEcor of Lotliair ng burnt most of tlie ancient coaciics in the time ot Roman Rcpuldio twenty years before. From each minonce descended with his scarlet cap and purple train borne by two attendants. Tho Princess leia-Cinque Cento was there, and most of the Roman and princeBses and dukes and duchesses. It seemed ,t the whole court of Rome was there ; monsignori and >lut«B without end. Some of tbeir dresnes, and those ot le generals of the orders, appropriately varied the general Tect, for tho ladies were alt in black, their heads oovnrtd ,ly with black vigils.
p
330
LOTH AIR,
Monsig^ore Catesby had arraoged with Lothair that they should enter the church bj their usual private waj, and liothair therefore was not in any degree prepared for the sight which awaited him on his entrance into it. The church wuR crowded; not a chair nor a tribune Tacant There was a suppressed gossip going on as in a public place before a performance begins, much fluttering of fims, some snufi* taken, and many sugar plums.
' Where shall we find a place ? ' said Lothair.
' They expect us in the sacristy,' said the Monsignore.
The sacristy of the Jesuit church of St. George of Cappadocia might have served for the ball>room of a palace. It was lofty and proportionately spacious, with a grooved ceiling painted with all the court of heaven. Above the broad and richly gilt cornice floated a company of Seraphim that might have figured as the Cupids of Albano. The apartment was crowded, for there and in some adjoining chambers were assembled the cardinals and prelates, and all the distinguished or official characters, who, in a few minutes, were about to form a procession of almost un- equalled splendour and sanctity, and which was to parade tlie whole body of the church.
Lothair felt nervous ; an indefinable depression came over him, as on the morning of a contest when a candidate enters his crowded committee-room. Considerable personages bo>ving, approached to address him : the Cardinal Prefect of the Propaganda, the Cardinal Assessor of the Holy Office, the Cardinal Pro-Datario, and the Cardinal Vicar of Ilome. Monsignori the Secretary of Briefs to Princes and the Master of the Apostolic Palace were presented to him. Had this been a conclave, and Lothair the fiiture Pope, it would have been impossible to have treated him with more consideration than he experienced. They assured him that they looked upon this day as one of the most in- teresting in their lives, and the importance of which to the
LOTH AIR. 351
Jkorcli ooald not be overrated. All tliia iiomewhftt eii-
oni^ed hini, and be was more himself when a certain
ineral stir, and tho entrance of mdiTidaals from adjoining
ipartmenta, intimated that the proceedings were abont to
imecce. Tt secntod difficult to marnhid so considerable
Bf statclj iiQ as-Hcmblage, but those who had tlie
laf^meot of aflairs wore exjierienccd in ancb malters.
r acolytes and the thurifers fell into their places ; thero
ned no end of banners and large golden crosses ; great
the company of ihe prelates, a long pnrple line, some
Duly in cassocks, some in robes, and mitred ; then came a
banner of the Blessed Virgin, which excited intense
nterost, and every eye was strained to catcb the pictared
txav. After this banner, amid freqaent incense, walked
if the most beautiful children in Rome, dreased as
with golden wings ; the boy bearing a rose of
iricho, the girl a hly. After these, as was understood,
black and veiled, walked sis Indies, who wera
mid to be daughters of the noblest houses of England,
and then a single form with a veil touching tbe gromid.
' Here we must go,' said Mousignore Catesby to Lothair, uid he gently but irreaistibiy guided bim into his place. ' You know you promised to 8up|K>rt her. You had better take thin,' be said, placing a lighted taper in hJs hand; 'it is Dxnal, and one should Dever be singidar.'
fio they walked on, followed by tiie Roman princes, bearing a splendid baldachin. And then came the pomp of the cardinals, each with bis train-bearers, exhibiting with the skill of arlisls the splendour of their violet robes.
As Iho head of the procession emerged from the sa- cristy inln the church, three organs and a choir, to wliich ftll tlie Roman chnrches had lent their choicest voices, burst into the Te Denin. B-ouiid the church and to all the chapels, and then np the noble nave, the majesiio proce*. sun moved, and ihea thy gat^js of the holy place opening,
352 LOTHAIR.
the cardinaJs entered and seated themaelvea, tbeir train. liearers crunching at their knees, the prelatec gronped themselves, and the banners and crossea were ranged io the distance, except the new banner of the Virgin, which seemed to hang over the altar. The Holy One seemed to be in what was recently a field of battle, and was addressing a beautiful maiden in the dress of a Sister of Mercy.
* This is your place,* said Monsignore Catcsbj, and he guided Lothair into a prominent position.
The service was long, but sustained by exquisite musiOi celestial perfumes, and the graceful movements of priests in resplendent dresses continually changing, it conld not be said to be wearisome. When all was over, Monsignore Catesby said to Lothair, ' I think we had better return by the public way ; it seems expected.'
It was not easy to leave the church. Lothair was de- tained, and received the congratulations of the Princess Tarpeia-Cinque Cento and many others. The crowd, muob excited by the carriages of the cardinals, had not dimin- ished when they came forth, and they were obliged to linger some little time upon the steps, the Monsignore making difficulties when Lothair more than once proposed to advance.
• I think we may go now,' said Catesby, and they de- bcended into the piazza. Lnmediately many persons in their immediate neighbourhood fell upon their knees, many asked a blessing from Lothair, and some rushed forward to kiss the hem of his garment
I
CHAPTER LXVn.
[W Princess Tnrpeia-Ciiiqne Cento gave an entertain- ment in the evening in honour of ' the great event,' Italian [Htta^rea are bo vast, are so ill-adupted to the moJerate ea~ lahlisbiiients of modem times, that their gniiid style in generuil only impresses those who visit them with a fueling of disappointment and evea mortili cation. The meagre rptinnc aw almost invisihle aa tliey creep about the corri- diirs and galleries, and h[)ger in the sequence of lofty cliainbers. These should Ije tilled with crowds of serving men and ^ronpa of spleudid retainers. They were built fur tlie diiya when a great man was obliged to have a great Tiillowing ; and when the safety of his person, as well aa the snccBsB of his career, depended on the nmaber and the laetre of his train. ,The pala4;e of the Princess Tarpeia was the most ceie- ;d in Rome, ono of the most ancient, and certainly the ^beaalifut. She dwelt in it in a manner not unworthy ilier consular blood and hei' modern income. To-night gaeste were received by a long line of foot servants in iwy liveries, and beriring the badge of her house, while every cuDveuient spot pages and gentlemen ushers in ly dix'sn guided the guests to their place of deslinii- The palace blazed with light, and showed to udvan. the thousand pictures 'which, it is said, were thcro irined, and the long giilleries full of the jiale statues of Ian gods and goddesses and the butit^ of the former Tnlers of Rome and the Bensatis. The atmosphere was fragrant with rare odonra, and music was heard amid the full of roant&ios iu the dim but fancifully illumined gar- dens.
The Priuoesa Ueraelf y
6 all tho:
jewi
■ets whioh
354 LOTHAIR.
bad been HjiHrtHl by all the Gotha from the days of Brennss to those of Garibaldi, and on her bosom reposed the cele- brated transparent cameo of Augnstns, which Cessar him- self is said u> have presented to LiWa, and which Bcnve- onto Cellini had set in a framework of Cupids and rabies. If the weight of her magnificence were sometimes distress- ing, she had the consolatioii of being supported by the arm of Lothair.
Two younj^ Roman princes, members of the Goardia Nobile, discussed the situation.
* The English here say,' said one, ' that he is their richest
man.'
• And very noble, too,' said the other.
•Certainly, truly noble; a kind of consin of the Qiioen.'
• This j^Tirat event must have an effect upon all their nobility. 1 cjinnot duubt thoy will all return to the Holy Father.'
' They would if thov were not afraid of huvitig to restore their church lauds. But they would be much more happy if Rorao were again tho capital of the world.'
• No shadow of doubt. I wonder if this young prince 'Tnll hunt in the Campagiia ? *
•All Englishmen hunt.*
• I make no doubt he rides well, and has famous horses And will sometimes lend us one. I am glad his soul is sjivetL'
• Yes ; it is well, when the Blessed Virgin interferes, it should be in favour of princes. When princes become opoil Christians it is an example. It does good. And this man will give an impulse to our opera, which wants it, and, e^s you say, he will have many horses.'
In the coui-se of the evening Miss Arundel, with a beam- inpr face but of deep expression, said to Lothair, •! could tell you some good news had I not pn)mised the Cardinal tlia.t he should oonimunicato it to you himself. He will see
LOTH AIR.
355
yoQ to-moiToiT. Allhongh it does not afiect me perBnnally, it will bo to mo the l>Appie;jt event tliiit ever occttired, tnt- oept, of cour.se, one.'
' Wliat can s!ie mean ? ' thonglit Lotbair. But at that moment Cardinal Berwick appiijaohed him, and Miss Amndcl glided anay.
Father Coleman attendud Lol.btur home to the Agoatini Pftlftcc, and when they parted said with much emphasiB, ' I must cr>ngratnlat« you once more on the great event.' Ou tbe following nioruirig, Lothair found on his table a namber of the Roman Journal published that day. It waa cuBiomiiry to place it there, but in guneral be only glanced at it, and ncarecly that. On the preitent occasion hla own nanie caught imineJiatcly his eye. It figured in a long nccoant of the celubrolion of the preCL'ding day. It wiia with a continually changing countenance, now scarlet, now pallid as death; with a palpitating heart, a trembling linnd, a. coM perMpirafion, and at length a diaordered vision, that Lothuir read the whole of an article, of which vre now give a sununury ;
* Rome was congratulated on the service of yesterday, Aiich celebmted the greateHt event of thia century. And I caroe to pass in this wise. I> seems that a yonng En-
itible, of the highest rank, laraily, and fortune (and
here Ihu name and titles of Lothair were accorately given),
hke many of the ecinna of the illnatriuus and influential
familitM of Britain, was impelled by an irresistihle moiive
to enlist as a volunt^jer in the service of the Pope, when
the Holy Father was recently attacked by the Secret
Societies of Atheism. This gallant ami gifted youth, after
^Bprodigies of valour and devotion, had fallen a1 Mentana iu
^^■u sacred cause, and was given up for lu.st. The day
^Hfter the battle, when the ambataiiccs lailen with the
B^fonnded were hourly arriving at Rome from the fitjld, an
Bngliflh lady, dauj^'liter of an illustnons house, i«Iuljrut«d
•R.
k
3S6
LOTHAtR.
Uirvu^kont centuries for its devotioii to the Boly Sm, ud who daring the present awtaX trial had never ceaaod ia her cfibrta to mpport the cause of Christianity, iraa m- plojed, as was her wont, in offices of charitj, and mi tending with her companion sisters her wounded coonttj- men &t the hospital Lb. Consolazione, in the new mti wliich has been recently added to that establishment bj tlie Holy Father.
' While she was leaning over one of the beds, she felt ■ gentle and peculiar pressure on ber shoulder, and, looking rtiand, beheld a most beautiful woman, with a countenMn of singnlar sweetness and yet majesty. And the risitor ituid, " You are attending to those English who believe in the Virgin Mary. Now at the Hospital Santissima Trinity di Pellegrini there is in an ambnlance a yonng Englishmui a]>parently dead, but wlio will not die if you go to luoi immediately and say you came in the name of tlie VirgiE."
' The inflaence of the stranger was so irresistible that the young English tady, attended by a nurse and one ot the porters of La Conaolazionc, repaired instantly to tl* Di Pellegrini, and there they found in the courtyard, u tliuy had been told, an ambulance, in form and colour and equipment unlike any ambulance used by the papal troops, and in the ambulance the senseless body of a youth, wW was recognised by the English lady as lier young ud frnllant countryman. She claimed him in ihe name ni the Blessed Virgin, and, aft«r due remedies, was permitted to take him at once to his noble relativoe, who lived in tha Palazzo Agostini.
' At\era ehort time much conversation begun to circnlata nbont this incident. The family wished to testily thnr gratitude to the individual whose information had led to the recovory of the body, and subsequently of the life of their relation ; bnttdl that they conld at first learn at Lb. Cod- eolazione was, that the porter believed the woman was M&ru
r
LOTH AIR.
3S7
Serafioa di Angelis, the LiunlHjme wife of a UJlor is Uie Strada di Bipetia, But it v/aa soon shown that this oonld not be tme, for it waa proved that, on the day in qneGtion, Uaria Serafina di Angelis vtks on a visit to a friend at La Riccia ; and, in the second place, that ahe did not bear the slightest resemblance to the stranger who hod given the news. Moreover, the porter of tiie gate being required to Etat« why he had ailmitted any stranger without the accus- lotned order, denied that he had bo done ; that be was in bis lodge and the gales were locked, and the stranger had passed through without his knowledge.
'Two priests were descending tho stairs when the stran- ger came apon them, and they wore ho struck by the peen- liarity of her carriage, tliat they turned round and looked at her, and clearly obHerved at tho back of her head a sort of halo. Sbe was out of their sight while they were making this observation, but in consequence of it they made en- qoirie!) of the porter of the gate, and remained in the oonrt- yard till she retamed.
' This she did a few minutes before the Enghsh lady and hiT attendants came down, as they had been detained by the preparation of some bandages and other remedies, without which they never moved. Tho porter of the gate having his atteotion called to tho circumstance by the priests, waa most careful in his observations as to the baUi, and described it as distinct. The priests then followed the stranger, who proceeded down a long and solitary street, made up in a great degree of garden and convent walls, and without a turning. They observed hor stop and speak W two children, and then, though there was no house to enter and oo street to turn into, ahe vanished.
' When they had reached the children llioj found each of them holding in its hand a beautiful flower. It seems the d given the boy a rose of Jericho, and to his aister L white and golden lily. Enquiring whether she bad
358 LOTH AIR.
spoken to tkem, ihey answered that she had said, ''Let these flowen be kept in remembrance of me ; thej will never fiule.'* And truly, thoa^ months had elapsed, these flowers had never faded, and, after the procession of yester- day, they were placed nnder crystal in the chapel of the Blessed Virgin in the Jesuit church of St. George of Cappadocia, and may be seen every day, and will be seen for ever in primeval freshness.
' This is the truthful account of what really occurred ^th respect to this memorable event, and as it was asoer- Uiined by a Consul ta of the Holy Office, presided over by the Cardinal Prefect himself. The Holy Office is most severe in its inquisition of the truth, and though it well knows that the Divine presence never leaves His Church, it is most scrupulous in its investigations whenever any miraculous interposition is alleged. It was entirely by it« exertions that the somewhat inconsistent and unsatisfactory evidence of the porter of the gate, in the first instance, was explained, cleared, and established; the whole chain of evidence worked out; all idle gossip and mere rumours rejected ; and the evidence obtained of above twenty wifc- iiesses of all ranks of life, some of them members of the learned profession, ai^d others military officers of undoubted lionour and vei'a(*ity, who witnessed the first appearance of t he stranger at the Pellegrini, and the undoubted fact of tlie halo playing round her temples.
* The Consul ta of the Holy Office could only draw one inference, sanctioned by the Holy Father himself, as to the chai-acter of the jwrsonage who thus deigned to appear and inter|)ose ; and no wonder that in the great function of yesterday, the eyes of all Rome were fixed upon Lothair aH the most favoured of living men.*
He himself now felt as one sinking into an unfathomable abyss. The despair came over him that involves a man engaged in a hopeless contest with a remorseless pov/er.
II tus liTe dorin'; the u
c year pii
sudr
sliinplj acroKa Lu.
a nicallcd the
a to attend a function in a Jesaits* cltupel in an obscure nook of Loudon ; llie same ageiicicB had been em- plcywi llii-re ; then, as now, the inflnenco of Glare Amndel biid been introduced to sviay him when all olhi^rs had Ikiled. Delnioiit bad tiiivcd him then. There was no Dolmont now. The last words of Theodora niurnmred in his ear like the nwfjl voice of a diataot sea. They were the diapason of all the thought uiid ft^^jling of tiiat profound and pasaionnW sinrit.
That seemed only a petty plot in London, and he had since eoraelinics emilod when he remembered huw it bad been baffled. Shallow apprehension ! The petty plot was Daly part of a gi-eat and UTiccasing and triumphant con- ■pirjicy, and the obscure and inferior a(^ncies which be had been ra-sb enough to deride had consummated their commanded pnrpoKO in iho eyes of all Kuroja;, and wiih the aid of the (freul powers of i be world.
Ua felt all ibe indi^'natiou naDii'ul to a sincere and higb-
Bpirited man, who finds that be has been befooled by those
■grhom he baa tmsted ; but summoning all his powers to
luito himseir from bin desolate dilemma, he fouud him.
»itliont resottrcc. What public declaration on his part
nid alter the UDdcniable fact, now circulating throughout
irld, that in the snpematund scene of yesterday
e was tlie willing and the princi;ial actor I' Uuquestian-
Uy he had been very imprudent, iLot only in that instance
a his habitual risits to the church; he felt all thai
But he was loru and shattered, I)i6nitely distressed
1 in body and in mind ; weak and miserablu ; and he
AODght he WHS leaning on angelic heai'ts, when he foaud
wif in tlie embrace of spii-its of another sphcio.
In what a [mRitioQ of uneiaujpled pain did be not now
Isd bimself! To leol it your duty lo quit the faith in
36o LOTH AIR.
which you have been bred mast involve an awfnl paiig; but to be a renegade withont the consolation of consdenoe, ag^nst your sense, against your will, alike for no celeBtial hope and no earthly object, this was agony mixed with self- contempt.
He remembered what Lady CJorisande had once said to him about those who quitted their native church for the Roman communion. What would she say now P He marked in imagination the cloud of sorrow on her imperial brow and the scorn of her curled lip.
Whatever happened he could never return to England, at least for many years, when all the things and persons he cared for would have disappeared, or changed, which is worse; and then what would be the use of returning? He would go to America, or Australia, or the Indian Ocean, or the interior of Africa; but even in all these ])lacc8, according to the correspondence of the Propaganda, lio would find Roman priests and active priests. He felt himself a lost man ; not free from faults in this matter, but punished beyond his errors. But this is the fate of men who think they can struggle successfully with a supernatural power.
A servant opened a door and said in a loud voice, that, with his permission, his Eminence, the English Cardinal, would wait on him.
CHAPTER LXVUl.
It is proverbial to what drowning men will cling. Lothair, in his utter hopelessness, made a distinction between the Cardinal and the conspirators. The Cardinal had beeu absent from Rome during the greater portion of the resi- dence of Lothair in that city. The Cardinal was his &ther*s friend, an English gentleman, with an English
LOT HAIR.
361
tdncction, once an Anglican, a man of the world, a man i)f
', ft good, kind-hearted man, Lotli^r explained the
apparent and occasional co-operation of bis Eminosce with
the otbera, by their making nse of him without a duo
. conscioosncsa of Ihtir purpose on his port. Lothatr re-
^nmerobcred bow delicately bis former guardian bod alwaj^
^■reated the subject of religion in their coavcrsatioiiB, The
^■Huionacement of bia visit instead of aggravating the dis-
^^*P8BPS of Lothnir, secmfd, as all these conaiderationa
rapidly occurred to him, almost to impurt. a my of hope.
' I sec,' aatd the Cardinal, as be entered serene and
rBcefal as nsual, and glancing at the table, * that you
lave been reading the account of oar great act of yes-
rday.'
' Tea ; and I have been reading it,' said Lotbair reddon- , 'with indigaatioa ; with alarm; I aboold add, with
1 this p ' said the Cardinal, feeling or affecting
*It is a tiflsue of falsehood and impostnro,' oontinned ' and I will take care tbat my opinion ia known
'Do nothing rashly,' said the Cardinal. * Thia ia an
icial jonmal, and I have reason to believe that nothing kppeara in it which is not drawn op, or well coneidorecl, by truly pious men.'
' YoQ yonrself, sir, ranst know,' continnpd Lothair, ' that the whole of this statement is founded on falsehood '
' Indeed I should be sorry to believe,' said the Cardinal, 'that there was a particle of misstatement, or even BXDggeration, either in the base or the auperetructare of the narrative.'
'Good God!" eiclairaed Lothair, 'Why! take the
first allegation, that I fell at Mentana Gghting in the
ranks of the Holy Father. Every one knows that I fell
362 LOTH AIR.
tigliting against tiim, and th&t I was almost alain by one d his chassepots. It is notorious ; and though, as a matter of taste, I havo not obtmded the fact in the society in which I have been recently living, I have never attempted to conceal it, and have not the slightest donbt that it mutt be as familiar to every member of that society as to your Eniifienee.*
* I know there are two narratives of yoar relations with the battle of Montana,* observed the Cardinal qnietlj. ' The one accepted as authentic is that which appears in this journal ; the other account, which can only be traced to yourself, bears no doubt a somewhat different character: but considering that it is in the highest degree improbable and that there is not a tittle of confirmatory or collateral evidence to extenuate its absolute unlikelihood, I hardly think you are justified in using, with reference to the statement in this article, the harsh expression wliich I am [lersuaded, on reflection, you will feel you have hastily used.'
* I think,' said Lothair with a kindling eye and a burning cheek, * that I am the best judge of what I did at Men- tana.'
* Well, well,' said the Cardinal with dule<»t ealmnef^s, 'yon naturally think so; but you must remember you have been very ill, my dear young friend, and labourinj^ under much excitement. If I were you, and I speak as your friend, I hope your best one, I would not dwell too much on this fancy of youi-s about the battle of Mentana. 1 would myself always deal tenderly ^-ith a fixed idea: harsh attempts to terminate hallucination are seldom suc- cessful. Nevertheless, in the case of a public event, a matter of fact, if a man finds that he is of one opinion and all orders of society of another, he should not be encouraged to dwell on a perverted view; he should be gradually weaned from it.'
' Yon unazc tub 1 ' taid Lothair. • Not at all,' said the CnrdiDal.
) jon will
3ne6t bj my odrice. And yon uuat already perceive
irld without > be the just
that, assuming the interpretation which the exception plapoB on jour conduct in the field t one, there really is not a i>i»(;le circumstance ii of this interestinp and importai of which yon yonrsolf would for a luoment dispnt*.'
' What ia there said about me at MentHoa makoa me 'fall the rest,' said Lothair.
' Well, wo will not dwell on Mentana," eaid tbe Cardinal ^th a sweet smile ; ' I have treated of that point. Your I by DO means an QDconimon one. It w^ll wear uti ^th retut^io^ health. King Oeorgu IV. believed that he was at tbe battle of Waterloo, and indeed commaDdud there; and his friends were at one time a little alarmed; but Knighton, who wa^ a sensible man, saiil, " Ilia Alajesty bas only U> leave off Cura9oa, and rest aBsnrcd he will gain no more victiiriea." The rest of this Bialcment, which ia to-day oHicially comtnunicatod to tbe whole world, and which in its rcsnlis will probably be not lens important eren Uian tbe celebration of the Cent«nary of St. Peter, ia estRblisbed by evidence so incontestable, by nitneabea w nnmerouti, bo varions, in all tbe circumstances and acci- dents of i«stiniaDy bo satisfactory, 1 may say so irrctistible, that controversy on this bead would be a mere impciii-
111.1 «
L M am i,ot coni-inti'd,' said Lothair. ^b ' Husb ! ' said tbe Cardinal, 'the freaks ^Bnind about personal incidents, however la ^klie viewed with indalgonce, at least tor a ti ' cannot be permitted to doubt of tbe i«Rt. Donvinoed, and on rcBection you will ba ix niroiber, air, wliers you are. You are in
I nmiiDer, air, v ^Ujbriatcndom, *
of yocr own ■lentable, may Die. But you Yon moat he nrinccd. Ra. the centre of
e alone tmih residua
spoken to them, they answered that she had said, ''Let these flowers be kept in remembrance of me ; thej will never fiule.'* And truly, though months had elapsed, these flowers had never faded, and, after the procession of jester- day, they were placed under crystal in the chapel of the Blessed Virgin in the Jesuit church of St. George of Cappadocia, and may be seen every day, and will be seen for ever in primeval freshness.
' This is the truthful account of what really occurred ^th respect to tbis memorable event, and as it was asoer- Uiined by a Consulta of the Holy Office, presided over by the Cardinal Prefect himself. The Holy Office is most severe in its inquisition of the truth, and though it well knows that the Divine presence never leaves His Church, it is most Bcrupulous in its investigations whenever any miraculous interposition is alleged. It was entirely by its exertions that the somewhat inconsistent and unsatisfactory evidence of the porter of the gate, in the first instance, was explained, cleared, and established; the whole chain of evidence worked out; all idle gossip and mere rumours rejected ; and the evidence obtained of above twenty wit- 1 1 esses of all ranks of life, some of them members of the Iramed profession, ai^d others military officers of undoubted honour and vei'a(nty, who witnessed the first appearance of the stranger at the Pellegrini, and the undoubted fact of tlio halo playing round her temples.
* The Consulta of the Holy Office could only draw one inference, sanctioned by the Holy Father himself, as to the chaiucter of the yiersonage who thus deigned to appear and interpose ; and no wonder that in the g^at function of yesterday, the eyes of all Rome were fixed upon Lothair as the most favoured of living men.'
He himself now felt as one sinking into an unfathomable abyss. The despair came over him that involves a man engaged in a hopeless contest with a remorseless pov/er.
Q his lire daring the tatit year passed ra^iliinglj ftcrosii liu
He r
I the wiles that had been t
nplojed t
B niuallod t o attend a fi
flbscura nook of Loudon ; tlie same ngoticics hiid been em- ployed there ; then, as now. the influence of Clare Arundel bitd been iiitroilaccd to swtiy him when all others had ftiiled. Bulmunt had aiived him then. There was no Belmont now. The last W(inl» ..f Theodora mamiared in bis ear tike the awiul voice of s distant sea. Tliey were thl diapason of all the thought and feeling of tliat profound and passionnte spirit.
That seoDiod only a petty plot in London, and he had eiiice sometimes srailed when lie roniembored bow it had boon bnlHcd. Shallow apprehension ! The petty plot was only part of a gi-eat and unceasing and trininphatit con- piracy, and the obscure and inferior agencies which be ;ride had consammated their mmanded pnrpoae in the eyes of all fclurope, and with aid of the great powers of the world. I He felt all the indignatien natural to a sincere and bigli- Ipirited man, who finds that be has been befooled by those prbom he has trasted ; but snomioniDg all his powers U> s desolate dilemma, he fonnd him- if witbunt resonree. What public declaration on liis part nld alter tJie undeniable fact, now circulating throughout :irld, tbat in the supematanil scene of yeHtcrUay I the willing Bud the principal actor? Uuquestion. ibly he liad been very imprudent, not only in that instance n bis hnbiliia) visits to the chorcb ; he felt all that But he WHS torn and shattered, infinitely distressed a body and in mind ; weak and uiiiterahlu ; and he mglit he was leaning on angelic bearts, when he found lelf in tlie embrace cif Ajiirits of another epbera. ; In what a ]«)sition of uiieiampted pain did he not now L hixn.-K'if I To I'eu'l it your duty to quit the faith in
36o LOTH AIR.
which you have been bred must involve an awfnl paagi but to be a renegade withont the consolation of consciencei ag^nst yoor sense, against your will, alike for no celeBtial hope and no earthly object, this was agony mixed with self- contempt.
He remembered what Lady CJorisande had once said to him about those who quitted their native church for the Roman communion. What would she say now P He marked in imagination the cloud of sorrow on her imperial brow and the scorn of her curled lip.
Whatever happened he could never return to England^ at least for many years, when all the things and persons he cared for would have disappeared, or changed, which li worse; and then what would be the use of returning? He would go to America, or Australia, or the Indian Ocean, or the interior of Africa; but even in all these ])lacc8, according to the correspondence of the Propaganda, he would find Roman priests and active priests. He felt himself a lost man ; not free fi'om faults in this matter, but punished beyond his errors. But this is the fate of men who think they can struggle successfully with a supernatural power.
A servant opened a door and said in a loud voice, that, with his permission, his Eminence, the English Cardinal, would wait on him.
CHAPTER LXVm.
It is proverbial to what drowning men will cling. Lothair, in his utter hopelessness, made a distinction between the Cardinal and the conspirators. The Cardinal had beeu absent from Rome during the greater portion of the resi- dence of Lothair in that city. The Cardinal was his Other's friend, an English gentleman, with an English
LOTHAJR. 361
Rlnoatioii, ODce bd AnglicaD, a mau of the world, a ina,D of
inoai', a good, kind-hearted man. Lothair explained tha
apparent and occasional co-operation of hia Eminence with
the others, bj their making use of him without a duQ
consciousnuss of their puqiose on his part. Lothair re.
Mmbered boiv delicately his former gnardian hod alwaya
Mt«d the Bubject of religion in their converBationa. The
moancemcnt of bis visit instead of aggravating the dis-
I of Lothair, seemed, as ail these considerfttiona
fetpidlj occnrrcd to him, almost to impart a ray of hope,
' Baid the Cardinal, aa he entered serene aoil racefnl as osual, and glancing at the table, 'that you ) been reading the account of our great act of yea- iay.'
' Yes ; and I have been reading it,' said Lotbair redden- ' with indignation ; with alarm ; I should add, with bgnst." 'How is this?' said the Cardinal, feeling or afieoting
' It is a tissDB of falsehood and impostnre,' continned liothair ; ' and t will take care that my opinion is knowu fit."
nothing rashly,' aaid the Cardinal. ' This is an journal, and I have reason t^ believe that nothing ■■•ppears in it which is not drawn up, or well considered, by truly pious men.'
'You yourself, sir, must know,' continned Lothair, ' that _Uie whole of this statement is founded on falsehood '
' Indeed I should be sorry to believe,' said the Cardinal, particle of misstfitemont, ur eren taggemtion, either in the base or the supers tructure of e narrative.'
God!' exclaimed Lothair. 'Why I take the J first allegation, that I fell at Mentana fighting in the ks of the Holy Fattier. Evecr one knows that I fell
368 LOTH AIR.
Drew on the day, and everj hoar it seemed his spint was more lone and dark. For the first time the thought of death occorred to him as a relief from the perplexilies of existence. How mnch better had he died at Montana ! To this pass had arrived the cordial and brilliant Lord of Mariel, who enjoyed and adorned life, and wished others to adorn and to enjoy it ; the individaal whom, probably, were the majority of the English people polled, they would have fixed upon as filling the most enviable of all positions, and holding ont a hope that he was not unworthy of it. Bom with every advantage that could conmiand the 83rm- pathies of his fellow-men, with a quick intelligence and a noble disposition, here he was at one-and-twenty ready to welcome death, perhaps even to devise it, as the only rescue from a doom of confusion, degradation, and remorse.
He had thrown himself on a sofa, and had buried liia face in his hands to assist the abstraction whicli he de- manded. There was not an incident of his life that es- caped the painful inquisition of his memory. He passed his childhood once more in that stem Scotch home, that, after all, had been so kind, and, as it would seem, so wise. The last words of counsel and of warning from his uncle, expressed at Muriel, came back to him. And yet there seemed a destiny throughout these transactions which was irresistible ! The last words of Theodora, her look, even more solemn than her tone, might have been breathed over a tripod, for they were a prophecy, not a warning.
How long he had been absorbed in this passionate reverie he knew not, but when he looked up again it was night, and the moon had touched his window. He rose and walked up and down the room, and then went into the corridor. All was silent ; not an attendant was visible ; the sky was clear and starry, and the moonlight fell on the tall, still cypresses in the vast quadrangle.
Lothuir leant over the balustrade and gazed upon the
LOTH AIR.
369
moonlit fboutuna. The change of scene, silont md yet aoi ToicdoBs, and the aofl«riing spell of the tranqaillising bonr were a relief to Liru. And &fler a time he mandered aboal the corridors, and afl«r a time lio descended into tha mart. The tall Swiss, in his grand tutiform, nan closin)^ ihe gatca nUich had jnst released a visitor. Lothair mo- tioned that he too wished to go forth, and the Swiss obeyed him. The threshold was paj^scd, and Lothair fonnd him- self for the first lime alone in Rome.
Utter!}' reck:les.i he cored not where he went or what might happen. Tlio streets were quite deserted, and he wandered about with a strange cnrioeity, gralified aa he •ometimea enconntered famons objects he had read of, and p>t the tme character of which no reading ever realises.
"The moonlight becomes the proad palaces of Rome, their corniced and balconied fronts rich with deep shadows in the blaze. Sometimes he enconntered an imperial colninn ; sometimes he came to an arcadian Bqnaro Qooded wiib light and resonant with the fall of statned fotintaine. Emerging from a long Etrag^ling street of convents and pardens, he fonnd himself in an open apace fall of antiqaa mins, and among them the form of a colossal amphi- theatre that he at once recognised.
It rose with its three tiers of arches and tlic httge wall that crowns them, black and complete in the air; and not until Lothair liad entered it coaid be perceive the portion of the ODter nil that was in mins, and now bathed with the nlrer light. Lothair was alone. In that hage creation, once echoing with the ahonta, and even the agouies, of thotuands, Lothair was alone.
He sate him down on a block of stone in thac snbluuo waA desolate arena, and a^ked himself the secret spell of tliia Rome that had already so agitated his yonng life, and probably was aboot critically to affect it Theodora lived tar Borne and died for Kome. And the Carding bom and
370 LOTH AIR.
breri an English gentleman, with many hopes and hononn, bed renonnced his religion, and, it might be said, bifl oonntrj, for Rome. And for Rome, to-morrow, Gatesby icon Id die withont a pang, and saorifice himself for Rome^ as his race for three handred years had gpven, for the same canse, hononr and broad estates and unhesitating Uvea. And these very people were influenced by different mo- tives, and thought they were devoting themselves to oppo- site ends. But still it was Rome : Republican or Caasarian, papal or pagan, it still was Rome.
Was it a breeze in a breezeless night that was sighing amid these ruins ? A pine tree moved its head on a broken arch, and there was a stir among the plants that hung on the ancient walls. It was a breeze in a breezeless night that was sighing amid the ruins.
There was a tall crag of ancient building contiguous to the block on which Lothair was seated, and which on his arrival he had noted, although, long lost in reverie, he had not recently turned his glance in that direction. He was roused from that reverie by the indefinite sense of some change hn\nng occurred which often disturbs and termi- nates one's brooding thoughts. And looking round, he felt, he saw, he was no longer alone. The moonbeams fell upon a figure that was observing him from the crag of ruin that was near, and as the light clustered and gathered round the form, it became every moment more definite and distinct.
Lothair would have sprung forward, but he could only extend his arms : he would have spoken, but his tongue was paralysed.
' Lothair,' said a deep, sweet voice that never could be foi'gotten.
* I am here,' he at last rep'ied.
'Remember!' and she thi*ew upon him that glance, at once serene and solemn* that had been her last, and was improssed indelibly upon bis heart of hearts.
THET have overdone it, Gortrudo, with Lotliair,' etiid jord St. Jerome to his wife, ' I spoke to Wonsignore Cntesby about it some t!me ago, bnt he woald not listen to lue ; I bad more conlideiice in the Cardinal and am dieap- pointed ; but a priest ia ever too hot. His norvoos system has been tried too fiiQch.'
Ladj St. Jerome still hoped the best, and believed in it, I prepared to accept the way Lotliair was fonnil 9 in the Colbeum as a continuance of miraoolons terpositions. He might have remained there for a da; f days and never have been recognised when discovered. marvellously providential that Father Coleman nlil Lave been in the vicinity and tempted to visit tbe n that very nigbt ! I Lord St. Jerome was devout, and eauj in his temper. Bsts and women seemed to huvo uo difficulty in ma- m. But he was an Enghsh gentleman, and there was at tbe bottom of his character a fund of courage, firm- nesa, and common sense, that sometimes startled and sometimes pcrpleied those who assumed that be could be easily controlled. He was not satisfied with the condition of Lothair, ' a peer of England and my connection ;' and he haxd not unlimited conddenco in those wUo had been hitherto consnltcd as to bis state. There waa a celebrated Gaghijh physician at that time visiting Borne, and Lord
372 LOTH AIR.
St Jerome, notwithstanding tho multiform resistanoe of Monsignore Catesby, insisted ho shonld be called in to Lothair.
The English physician was one of those men who abhor priests, and do not particularly admire ladies. The Utter, in revenge, denounced his manners as brutal, though they always sent for him, and were always trying, though vainly, to pique him into sympathy. He rarely spoke, but he listened to everyone with entire patience. He some- times asked a question, but he never made a remark.
Lord St. Jerome had seen the physician alone before he visited the Palazzo Agostini, and had talked to him freely about Lothair. The physician saw at once that Lord St. Jerome was truthful, and that though his intelligence might be limited, it was pure and direct. Appreciating Ix)rd St. Jerome, that nobleman found the redoubtable doctor not ungenial, and assured his wife that she would meet on the morrow by no means so savage a being as she anticipated. She received him accordingly, and in the presence of Monsignore Catesby. Never had she exercised her distinguished powers of social rhetoric with more art and fervour, and never apparently had they proved less productive of the intended consequences. Tho physician said not a word, and merely bowed when exhausted nature consigned the luminous and impassioned Lady St. Jerome to inevitable silence. Monsignore Catesby felt he was bound in honour to make some diversion in her favour; repeat some of her unanswered inquiries, and reiterate some of her unnoticed views ; but the only return he received was silence without a bow, and then the physician re- marked, ' I presume I can now see the patient.'
The English physician was alone with Lothair for some time, and then he met in consultation the usual attendants. The result of all these proceedings was that he returned to the saloon, in which he found Lord and Lady St. Jerome,
I
[
p
R"
LOTHAIR. 373
KonsigTiDre Catcabj, and Father Culuuian, anJ he then said, ' My opinion is that his Lortlaliip ahonld qnit Rome imnie- diattily, nod 1 think he Lad better rctnra nt onee to hi.t ovm ooontty.'
All the efforts of the Kiigliah Propaganda were now directed to prevent the retnm of Lothair to his own country. The Cardinal and Lady St. Jerome, and the Monsignore, BTid Father Coleman, all the beantifnl joang couutessoa who had ' gone over ' to Rome, and all the epiriled yoang (-aria who had come over to bring their wives back, bnt liiid iinfortnnat«!y rcmaintil themselves. looked very serions, and spoke mach in whispers. Lord St. Jerome waa firm Lothair should inimediately leave the city, and find tt change of scene and air which were declared by ithority to lie in d is [>cn liable for his health, both of mind id body. But his return to England, at this moment, •ma an aiTair of serious dilTiculty. He conld not return un- attended, and attended too hy soma iutimato and devoted friend. BeaiiJos it waa very doubtful whulhcr Lothair had strength remaining to bear so great on exertion, and at such a season of the year ; and he seemed disinclined to it himselC He also wished to leave Rome, bnt he wished also in time tu extend his travels. Amidst these difficulties a Neapolitan duke, a great friend of Monsignore Cateshy, a gentleman who always had a friend in need, offered to the young Bn^^lish noble, the interesting young Englishman so favonred by heaven, the use of his villa on the coast of the remotest part of Sicily, near Sjracnse. Here was a Bolation of many difficulties: departure from Rome, change of scene and air (sea air, too, partiouhirly recommended), and almost the same ae a return to England, without an eflbrt i for waa it not an island, only with a better climate, and a people with free institutions, or a taste for them, which is the same ?
hich Lndy St. Jerome and Monsignore
^m The mode
37^ LOTHAIR.
Catesby coDsulted Lord St. Jerome on tlie sml^ect, took Ike adroit but insidious rorm of eongnitu luting him on the entire «uid unexpected fulfilment of his purpose, ' Are *e not foiiunnt«?' exclaimed her Lailfship, looting np brigbtlj in hla face, and gently pressing one of liLi arms.
•Ejftctly eperything yoar Lordship required,* echoed Alonsignore Catebby, L-ongi&tulating him by pnssang tlie
The Cardiniil baIiI to I^rd St. Jerome in tbo oomMof the morning, in an eiisy nay, and as if he were Dot tUnlb ing too mnch of ibu matter, ' So yon have gut oitt of ■! yonr difficulties.'
Iiord St. Jci-ume vraanot entirely mtisfied, but be tltonglit he liiid dciue a ^ruat deal, and, to say the trath, tbe effort for him hiid not bfco in considerable ; and so the result wm that Lolliair, accompanied by Monsignore Catosby and Tather Coleman, ti-arelled by cany stages, and chiefly on lioreuback, thruitgh a delicious and romantic conntry, which alone did Lnthair a grcRit deal of gnod, lo the coR&t; croeaed itx? struitx on a serene artcrnoon, visitird Mcssin* Binl I'ltlcrmu, luid filially settled at their point of dtstinat I he Villa CaUhiuo.
Nothing could be more satisfactory tbftn thoMonstgt bulletin, annoDnciiig to hia friends at Bome tbel arrangements. Three necks* travel, air, horse exercise, t} inspiration of tbe landscnpo and the clime, hnd wonderfully restored Lothair, and tbey might entirely count on bia p*«- ing Holy Week at Homo, when all tbey bul hoped and prayed for would, liy the blessing of (lio HoTy Virgin, be ferCoomplLsbod.
jin« Binl itinatiia^^
"inw^H ultin^H
rcise, tbtt I nderfully I
hiapAKO- I
CHAPTER I-XXI.
Thi tfliTsra of tho Villa Catiilnno, with its orange anJ j^l.ii trees, looked npon & eea of lapis lazali, and ruse from e. Bbelving shore of aloes and arbutus. The waters reflected ilio ctiloar of the sky, and all the foliage was bedewed with the Enme -violet light of taom which bathed the soflnoss nf the dist&iit mouutainB, and the undulating beautj of the OTer-varpng coast.
^ Loth&ir was walking on the terrace, his favomite walk, r it was the only occasion on which he ever fonnd himself Kot thnt he liHd any reafion to compluin of his mpaniona. Klore complete ones could scarcely be selected, ravel, which they say tries all tempers, had only proved fi engaging equanimity of Cat«8by, and had never dio- frbed the amiable TupoBO of his brother priest; and thoa BO entonnitiiiig and bo instructive, aa well as handy d experienced in all common things. The Moosignore iut;h tiLsle and locliug and various knowledge ; and I for the reverend Father, all the antiquaries they dally 90ii]il«red were mere children in his hands who, without t, could explain and illustrate every aceuo and object, d Bpoko as if he hod never given a thought to any other me lltati Sieily and Symtiise, the expedition nf Niciaa I the adventures of Agalhoclfs. And yet daring all r travels Lothwr felt that he never was alone. This I remarkable at tho great cities such aa Messina and o, but it was a prevalent habit in less frequented There wag a petty town neiir thom, which he had prer visited alone, although he hud made more tliun one mpt with that view ; and it was only on the terraco in early mom, a spot whenee he eonid bo obHerved frnni llie
376 LOTHAIR.
TQIa, and which did not easily communicate with the pre- cipitons and sniroonding scenery, that Lothair would in- dulge that habit of introspection which he had parsoed through many a long ride, and which to him was a never- failing source of interest and even excitement.
He wanted to aRcertain the causes of what he deemed the faUure of his life, and of the dangers and disoomfitaw that were still impending oyer him. Were these causes to be found in any peculiarity of his disposition, or in the general inexperience and incompetence of youth P Tbe latter he was now quite willing to believe would lead their possessors into any amount of disaster, but his ingenuous nature hesitated before it accepted them as the self-com- placent solution of his present deplorable position.
Of a nature profound and inquisitive, though with a great fund of reverence which had been developed by an ecclesiastical education, Lothair now felt that he had started in life with an extravagant appreciation of the influence of the religious principle on the conduct of human affairs. With him, when heaven was so nigh, earth could not be remembered ; and yet experience showed that, so long as one was on the earth, the incidents of this planet consider- ably controlled one's existence, both in behaviour and in thought. All the world could not retire to Mount Athos. It was clear, therefore, that there was a juster conception of the relations between religion and life than that which he had at first adopted.
Practically, Theodora had led or was leading him to this result ; but Theodora, though religious, did not bow before those altars to which he for a moment had never been faithless. Theodora believed in her immortality, and did not believe in death according to the ecclesiastical interpret tation. But her departure from the scene, and the circum- stances under which it had taken place, had unexpectedly and violently restored the course of his life to its old bent.
LOTH AIR.
377
SbKtterotl aJid Blioro, he waa willing to beltoye that bo was agkm entering tbe kingdom of hoaTen, but fomid be waa
oalj DudeF the gilded dome of a Jesuit's (;biirch, and woke U> reality, from a scene of mngitmt decuptioDa, with & eod conviction that even cardinnla and fathers of the Church were inevitably influenced iu tbia life by its interests and
But the incident of his life that most occupied, it might be said engrossed, his meditation was the midnight appari- tion in the Colisenin. Making every allowance that a tmndid nature and an ingenious niind could suggest for explicatory cirtumslanccs ; the tension of bis nervous sys- tem, which waa tbon donbclcss strained to its last points the memory of her dealli-scene, VFhich always harrowed and buuntcd him ; and that dark oollision between bis promise and his life which then, after bo many efforts, appeared by Bomo supernatural ordination to be about iiievilably to occur in that very Rome wiioso gigantio shades surrounded him ; he still could not resist the con- riction that ho had seen the form of Theodora and had listened fa her voice. Often the whole day when thoy Wtire travelling, and his companions watched liim on hia saddle in silent thought, bis mind in reahty was fixed un Ihia aiiigle incident, and lie was crosa-enamining bis mo- adroit and ruthlt'sa advocate deals with the less in the box, and tries to demonstrate bis infidelity
^Khis ^1 Bni
' But whether it were indeed the apparition of bis adored friend or a. distempered dream, Lotliair not less recognised the warning as divine, and the only conviction be had arrived at throughout bis Sicilian traveln was a determina< tion that, however tragical the cost, his pi-ontise to Theo- dora should never be broken.
The boaatiful terrace of the Villa Catalano overlooked n ^^BD&ll bay to which it dcsccndi-'d by winding walks. Ths
I 378 LOTHAIR.
water was deep, and in any other country ilie bay migfai have been tnmed to good aooountt but bays abounded on this coast, and the people, with many harbours, had no freights to occupy them. This mom, this violet mom, when the balm of the soft breeze refreshed Lothair, and tha splendour of the rising sun began to throw a flashing line upon the azure waters, a few fishermen in one of tbe country boats happened to come in, about to dry a net upon a sunny bank. The boat was what is called a spero- naro ; an open boat worked with oars, but with a lateen sail at the same time when the breeze served.
Lothair admired the trim of the vessel, and got talking with the men as they eat their bread and olives, and a small fish or two.
* And your lateen sail ? ' continued Lothair.
' Is the host thing in the world, except in a white squall,' replied tlio sailor, ' and then everything is queer in these seas with an open boat, though I am not afraid of Santa AsTiese, aud that is her name. But I took two English officers who came over here for sport, and whose leave of absence was out ; I took them over in her to ^falta, and did it in ten hours. I believe it had never been done in an open boat before, but it was neck or nothing with them.'
* And you saved them ? *
* With the lateen uj) the whole way.'
* They owed you much, aud 1 hope they paid you welL'
* I asked them ten ducats,' said the man, ' and they paid me ten ducats.'
Lothair had his hand in his pocket all this time, feeling, bat imperceptibly, for his purse, and when ho had found it, feeling how it was lined. He generaUy carried about him as much as Fortunatus.
* What are you going to do with yourselves this morn- ing ? ' said Lothair.
LOTH AIR. 379
'Well, not iDDch; we thonpht of throwing Ihc not, hot D hhv9 had ODO dip, and no grL'ab lni:k.' f * Are yon inclined to give me a sail Y ' •Cortainly, sigiior.' ' Huve you a mind to go to Malta ? ' * Tliat is bnsipL-as, m'guar.'
'Look hcni,' wvid Lothair, Micro arc ten diicnta in tliia
3, and a litllu more. ] will givo thera to yon if yon
me to Malta at once, but if yon will aliirt in a
llindrud seconds, before tbe snn touclieR tbat ruck, and the
Parea just beyond it are alrejidy bright, yon slinll liave Inn
e dui'uta when yoa reach the iale.'
' Step in, signor.'
From the nature of the cooree, wlilch was not in the direc< >i) of the open sea, fur they hai! to double Cupu Passaro, the ^peronaro waa out of night of the Tilla in a fuw minntea They rowed ouly till they had doubled the rupe, aud then I set the lateen flail, thu breeze being light but steady and ■hvonmble. They were aoon in open Ecu, no laud in sight, ^H^iid if a white B<|nall does i-itic,' thought Lothuir, *it will ^pbly settle many tlitUculties.'
^^ But uo white squall came; everytbing waa favourable to iboir progress : the wind, tlie ccrrenl, the conrn^ aud spirit of (he men, who liked the advisutnre and liked jDthair, Kight came on, but they woi'u as tender to him ■ wnmeu, fed him with their least coarse food, and cohered 1 witb a cloak mjule of stuU' spun by their motliors and r sisters. I Lothair vena slumbering when the patron of the boat nased him, and he saw at Ixuid many lights, and in a few biuules was in still walor. They were in one of the krboni'H of Maltn, but not perruitl^'d lo land at miJnight, 1 when the mom arrived, the obstacles to the relcano of Dthair were uot easily removed. A spcroiiaro, an opeu t from Sicily, of coui-su with no ]>iipi']-M to prove their
38o LOTH AIR.
point of dopartui'o: h0i*e were materlalfl for doubt and diffioalty, of which the petty offir^n of the port knew how to avail themselves. They might oome from Barbaiy, from an infected port ; plague might be aboard, a qneetion of quarantine. Lothair observed that they were nearly along* side of a fine steam yacht, English, for it bore the cross of St. George, and while on the quay, he and the patron of the speronaro arguing with the officers of the port^ a gentleman from the yacht put ashore in a boat^ of which the bright equipment inmicdiately attracted attention. The gentleman landed almost close to the point whore the controversy was carrying on. The excited manner and voice of the Sicilian mariner could not escape notice. Tho gentleman stopped and looked at the group, and then sud* denly exclaimed, * Good heavens ! my Lord, can it be you ? '
* Ah ! Mr. Phoebus, you will help me,' said Lothair, and then he went up to him and told him everything. All difHculties of course vanished before the presence of Mr. Phoebus, whom the officers of the port evidently looked upon as a being beyond criticism and control.
* And now/ said Mr. Phoobus, * about your people and your baggage.'
* I have neither servants nor clothes,' said Lothair, * and if it hJEMl not been for these good people, I should not have had food.'
CHAPTER LXXn.
Mr. Ph(£BCS in his steam-yacht Pan, of considerable ad- measurement and fitted up with every luxury and con- venience that science and experience could suggest, was on his way to an island which he occasionally inhabited, near the Asian coast of the ^gean Sea, and which he rented fcom the chief of his wife's house, the Prince of Samoa.
LOTHAIR. 381
Phteboe, by lus genius and fume, cotumandcd a large
and he spent it freely and fully. There was no-
r which he more diBapproved thsii accumnlfttion,
was a practice which led to sordid habits and wns fatal
the beantifiil. On the whole, he ttiought it more odlons
than debt, more pennanontly degrading. Mr. Phcabna
liked pomp and graccfdl ceremony, and he was of opinion
that great artists sboatd Ii^ad a princely life, bo that in
llbeir mannera and method of existenco they might fomiBh
lels to mankind in general, and elevate tlio tone and
ite of nations.
Sometimes when he obserscd a fi-icnd noticing with ad- tniiatioQ, perhaps with astomsbnient, the splendonr or finish of his equipments, he would Bay, ' The world thiuks I had alargefortune with Madame Phcehna. I had noil ling. I understand that a fortune, and no inconsiderable one, would have boon given, had I chosen to aak for it. But I did not choose to ask for it. I made Madame Phoebus my wife because she was the finest specimen of the Aryan race that I waa acquainted with, and I would bare no conaidero- tiona mixed up with the high motive that inSueneed me. ly falher-jn-law Cantacazene, whether from a feeling of ktitnde or remorse, is always making us munificent I like to receive magnificent presents, but also to make them ; and I presented him with a picture wbicb ia the gom of bis gallery, and which, if he over part with it, will in another generation bo contended for by kings and peoples.
' On her last birthday wo breakfasted with my fatbor-in- law CantacuEene, and Madame Pbcebna found in Lor napkin a cheque for five tbousand pounds, I expended it immediately in jewels for her pergonal nse ; for I wished my father-in-law to nnderatand that tliore are othai .princely families in the world besides the Cantaeuzence.' A friend once ventured cnqninugly to suggeat whether
bona
^fcat)
^rest
^L A friend o
382 LOTHAIR.
his way of life might uot "be oondncive to envy and so (Hs- turb that serenity of sentiment necessary to the complete life of an artist. But Mr. Phcebos would not for a moment admit the soundness of the objection. ' No,' he eaid, ' envy is a purely intellectual process. Splendour never excites it : a man of splendour is looked upon always with fitvonr ; his appearance exhilarates the heart of man. He is always popular. People wish to dine with him, to borrow bis money, but they do not envy him. If you want to know what envy is you should live among artists. You should hear me lecture at the Academy. I have sometimes suddenly turned round and caught countenances like that of the man who was waiting at the comer of the street for Bcnvenuto Cellini, in order to assassinate the great Florentine.*
It was impossible for Lotliair in his present condition to have fallen upon a more suitable companion than Mr. Phcebus. It is not merely change of scene and air that we sometimes want, but a revolution in the atmosphere of thought and feeling in which we live and breathe. Besides iiis great intelligence and fancy, and his peculiar views on art and man and afiairs in general, which always interested their hearer and sometimes convinced, there waa a general vivacity in Mr. Phoebus and a vigorous sense of life which were inspiriting to his companions. ^Vllen there was anj- tliing to bo done, great or small, Mr. Phoebus liked to do it ; and this, as he averred, from a sense of duty, since, if anything is to be done, it should be done in the best manner, and no one could do it so well as Mr. Phoobus. He always acted as if he had been created to be the oracle and model of the human race, but the oracle was never pompous or solemn, and the model was always beaming with good nature and high spirits.
Mr. Phoebus liked Lothair. He liked youth, and good- looking youth ; and youth that was intelb'gent and engafi^ing
LOTH AIR.
3S3
and irell-maimered. He also liked old men. Bat between liltj and aevecty, be saw little to approve of in the dark OCX. They hod lost tlieir good looks if they ever had any, their wtta were on the wane, and they were invaridlily eelGsb. When they attained Bccond childhood the charm eXien returned. Aj^ was (reqncutly beantiful, wisdom appeared Uka an aftermath, and the hetiirt which «eemod dry and deadened suddenly pnt forth shoots of sj-m[ialhy.
Mr. Phtebna postponed his voyage in order that Lothair might make his preparatiuus to become bis guest in his island. ' I cannot take you to a banker,' 8aid Mr. Pbcebaa, ' for I have none ; but I wish you would share my parse. Nothing will ever indnoe ma to nae what they call paper money. It is the woKt thing that what they call civilisa- tion has produced ; neither hue nor shape, and yet a snb- Btitnte for the richest ooloui', and, where the arts flourish, the finest forms.'
The telegraph which brought an order to the hankers at
Uolta to give an unlimited credit to Lothair, rendered it
unneoeAxary for our friend to share what Sir. Fhcebua
called hi§ purse, and yet ho wjia glad to have the opportu*
^^kty of BC«itig it, as Mr. Pb(Bbii3 ono morning opened a
^^best in hia cabin and produced several velvet bags, one
^BdD of peorla, another of rubieti, others of Venetian seqnins,
Napoleons, and gulden piastres. ' I like to look nt them,'
eaid Mr. Phoebus, ' and Bad life more intense when they
are about my person. But bank notes, ho cold and thin,
thojr give mo an ague.'
Madame Phtehus and her sister Euphrosyne welcomed Lothair in maritime costumes which were absolutely be- witching ; wondrOQB jackets with loops of pearls, girdles defended by dirks with handles of turquoises, and tilted hats that, while they screened their long eyelashea fiom ^the snn, crowned the loticer braids of their never-ending Mr. PhojbuB gave bimqueta every day on board his
E
384 LOTH AIR.
jaohi, attonded by the chief personages of the iakad and tae most agreeable officers of the garrison. They dined upon deck, and it delighted him, with a snr&oe of sang-froid, to produce a repast which both in its material and its treatment was equal to the refined festivals of Paris. Some- times they had a dance ; sometimes in his barge, rowed by a crew in Venetian dresses, his guests ghded on the tran- quil waters, under a starry sky, and listened to the ex- quisite melodies of their hostess and her sister.
At length the day of departure arrived. It was bright, with a breeze favourable to the sail and opportune for the occasion. For all the officers of the garrison and all beautiful Yaletta itself seemed present in their yachts and barges to pay their last tribute of admiration to the en- chanting sisters and the all-accomplished owner of the
* Pan.' Placed on the gallery of his yacht, Mr. PhcDbas surveyed the brilliant and animated scene with delight.
* This is the way to conduct life,' he said. * If, fortunately for them, I could have passed another month among these people, I could have developed a feeling equal to the old regattas of the Venetians.'
The ^gean isle occupied by Mr. Phoebus was of no in- considerable dimensions. A chain of mountains of white marble intersected it, covered with forests of oak, though in parts precipitous and bare. The lowlands, while they produced some good crops of grain, and even cotton and silk, were chiefly clothed with fruit trees : orange and lemon, and the fig, the olive, and the vine. Sometimes the land was uncultivated, and was principally covered with myrtles of large size and oleanders and arbutus and thorny brooms. Here game abounded, while from the mountain forests the wolf sometimes descended and spoiled and scared the islanders.
On the seashore, yet not too near the wave, and on a sylvan declivity, was a long pavilion-looking building.
LOTHAIR. 383
[Minted in white and axabrsque. It was luiekc'l by the forest, which had a ptirlC'likn character rrom U<s partial clearnnce, e-ad which, after a POSTonient slip of even land, nscoiided the steeper country and took the form of wooded liilla, hacked in dne time by attll nylvan yet loftier elevB.- tiunF'. and somctinies a glittering peak.
' Welcome, my friend ! ' Mid Mr. Phoabna to Lothair. ' Welcome to an Aryan clime, an Aryan landscape, and ar
^^Aiyan rane. It wiU do yon good after your Semitic
^fpllucin ations. '
" orinn'
CHAPTER LXXm.
PHiEBua pursued a life in bis island pnrtlyfeadal, partly oriental, partly Venetian, and partly idiosyncratic. He had a grand atndio whore ho could always find interesting occupation in di-awing eserj fine face and fonn in his dominions. Then he hunlf^l, and that -waa a remarkable scene. The ladies, looking like Diana or her Eymphs, were mounted on cream-coloured Anatolian chargers with golden bells ; while Mr. PhoibuB himself, in green velvet and eeven-Ieagued boots, sounded a wondrous twisted horn rife with all the inspiring or diret^ng notes of musical and learned venerie. His neighbours of condition cams mounted, but the field was by no means confined to cava- liers. A voflt crowd of men in small caps and jackets and lingo white breeches, and armed with all the weapons of Palikarl, bandjars and yatnghans and stiver shenlhed mns- kots of uncommon length and almost as old as tlio battle of jpanto, always rallied round his stanJard. The cquea- caracollod about the park, and the horns sounded the hounds bayed and the men shouted ItU tha deer all scudded away. Then, by degrees, the honiere forc.tt, and the nol«s of vcncrii> iKcame more
3S6 LOTH AIR.
fiiint and the shouts mora distant. Then for two or three hours all was silent, save the sound of an occasional shot or the note of a stray hound, until the human stragglers began to reappear emerging from the forest, and in dne time the great body of the hunt, and a g^ded cart dnwn by mules and carrying the prostrate forms of fallow deer and roebuck. None of the ceremonies of the chase were omitted, and the crowd dispersed, refreshed by Samian wine, which Mr. Phcebus was teaching them to make without resin, and w^hich they quafied with shrugging shoulders.
' We must have a wolf-hunt for you,' said Euphrosyne to Lothair. ' You like excitement, I believe ? '
* Well, I am rather inclined for repose at present^ and I came here with the hope of obtaining it.*
* We are never idle here ; in fact that would be impos- siblo with Oaston. He has established here an academy of the fine arts and also revived the gymnasia ; and my sister and myself have schools, only music and dancing ; Gaston does not approve of letters. The poor people have of course their primary schools with their priests, and Graston does not interfere with them, but he regrets their existence Ho looks upon reading and writing as very injurious to education.'
Sometimes reposing on divans, the sisters received the chief persons of the isle, and regaled them with fruits and sweetmeats and cofTce and sherbets, while Gaston's chi- bouques and tobacco of Salonica were a proverb. These meetings always ended with dance and song, repletBi according to Mr. Phoebus, with studies of Aryan life.
' I believe these islanders to be an unmixed race,' said Mr. Phojbus. * The same form and visage prevails tliroupjhout ; and very little changed in anything, even in their religion.'
* Unchanged in tlieir religion ! ' said Lothair with some astonishment.
LOTH AIR.
387
i yao. will find it so. Tbeir eziateDce is eitsy ; r w&DtB are not great, and their meknn of subsistence
nliful. They \A%& much of tlieir life in what ia calkii aliment: and what is it ? They raako parties of plea. ; they go in procession to a fountain or & grovu. Thej daiice ftnd ent frait, and they rotnra homo singing Gongs, Thoy have, in fact, been performing unconsciously the reli- giooG ceremonies of their aaccBiors, mid which they pursue, and will for aver, though they may have forgotten the name of the dryad or the nyniph who prcsideB over their waters.
'1 fihonld tliink tijuir prieatB would guard tlmm from these errors,' eaid Lothair.
' The Gruck priests, particularly in these Asian islands, are good aoi-t of people,' said Mr. Phcebus. ' They marry and bare generally lurge families, often very beautiful. TJicy have no eaccrdofal feelings, for they never can have any preferment; a)I the high poHta in the Greek Chureli being reservdl for the monks, who study what ia called theology. Tlie Greek parish priest is not at all Semitic ; there ia nothing to counteract his Aryan tendencies. I have already raised tbe statue of a nympb at one of their favourite Bprings and places of plea.'Uint pilgrimngo, and I Wve a atatae now in the island, still in iia case, which I oontemplate installing in a fumons grove of laurel not far o.T and very much resorted to.'
' And what then ? ' enquired Lothair.
' Well, I bave a conviction that among the great ratres tbe old creeds will come back,' said Mr. Phmbns, * and it 'will be acknowledged that trne religion is tite worship of the beantjfnl. For tbe beautiful cannot be attained witb- ont virtoe, if virtue consists, as I bolicve, in the control of tbe passions, in tbe sentiment of repose, and tbe avoidance in all things of excess.'
One night Lothair was walking home with the sistor D a Tillage festival, where they had been much amused.
-^88 LOTH AIR.
*" You have Lad a great maaj adFontores since we fint mot ? ' said Madame PhoebiiB.
' Which makes it seem longer ago than it really is,* said Lothair.
* You count time by emotion then ? ' said Euphrosyne.
' Well, it is a wonderful thing however it be computed,' said Lothair.
' For my part, I do not think that it ought to be connied at all,' said Madame Phcebus ; * and there is nothing to me 80 detestable in Europe as the quantity of clocks and watches.'
* Do you use a watch, my Lord ? ' asked Euphrosyne in a tone which always seemed to Lothair one of moddiig artlessness.
* I believe I never wound it up when I had one,* said Lothair.
* But you make such good use of your time,' said Madarao Phoebus, * you do not require watches.'
' I am glad to hear I make good use of my time,* said Lothair, but a little surprised.
* Bat you are so good, so religious,* said Madame PhcBboB. •"That is a great thing ; especially for one so young.'
* Hem ! ' said Lothair.
* That must have been a beautiful procession at Rome,* said Euphrosyne.
* I was rather a spectator of it than an actor in it,' said Lothair with some seriousness. * It is too long a tale to enter into, but my part in those proceedings was entirely misrepresented.'
* I believe that nothing in the newspapers is ever true/ said Madame Pha3bus.
* And that is why they are so popular,' added Euphro- syne ; * the taste of the age being so decidedly for fiction.*
' Is it true that you escaped from a convent to Malta ? ' said Madame PhcebuB
LOTH AIR. 'Not quite,' said LolJuLir, 'but Imc o.
389
lUgli for oouwr-
^Bu|
' As confidential u tli9 preaout, I rapposo F ' Kud
iphro^ne. Yes, when we are grave, oa wc are inclinod to be now,' id Lotliuir.
* Then, joa have been fighting a good deal,' said Madamt.' Phoeboa.
Yoa are patting me on a court martial, SfadEime loobus,' said Lothair. But wo do not know on which side you were,' said phrosyne.
That is matter of history,' said Lothair, ' and that, yon 'know, is always doubt fol.'
Well, I do not like Egbting,' said Madame Phcebna, for my part I never could find out that it did any
* And what do you like ? ' said Loth^r. ' Tell me how rould you pasa your Ul'o ? '
' Well, mnch aa 1 do. I do not know that I want any tango, except I think I should like it to be alwaya
' And I would have perpetual spring,' suid Enphrosyne. ' But, summer or spring, what would be your favonrite
' Well, dancing is veiy nice,' said Madame Plia.ibna. o cannot always be dancing,' said Lothair.
'Then we would sing,' said Euphroaynu.
'But the time comes when one can neithor dance nor bg,' said Iiothair.
'Oh ! then we bocome part of the audience,' eaid Madame ^cebus, 'the people for whoso amusement everybody botm.'
•And enjoy power withont responsibility," said Euphro- ' detect false notes and mark awkward geuturea.
390 LOTH AIR.
How can anyone doubt of Providcnoe with such a system of constant compensation ! '
There was something in the society of these two sisters that Lothair began to find highly attractive. Their ex- traordinary beauty, their genuine and unflagging gaie^, their thorough enjoyment of existence, and the variety of rosouroes with which they made life amusing and gracefnl, all contributed to captivate him. They had, too, a great lore and knowledge both of art and nature, and insensibly thej weaned Lothair from that habit of introspection which, though natural to him, ho had too much indulged, and taught him to find sources of interest and delight in ex- ternal objects. He was beginning to feel happy in this island, and wishing that his life might never change, when one day Mr. Phoobus informed them that the Prince Agsthonides, the eldest son of the Prince of Samos, would arrive from Constantinople in a few days, and would pay them a visit. * Ho will come with some retinue,' said Mr. Phoebus, * but I tinist we shall bo able by our reception to show that the Cantacuzenes arc not the only princely family in the world.*
Mr. Phoebus was confident in his resources in this re- B])ect, for his yacht's crew in their Venetian dr(?s.scs could always furnish a guard of honour which no Grecian prince or Turkish pacha could easily rival. When the eventful day arrived he was quite equal to the occasion. The yacht was dressed in every part with the streaming colours of all nations, the banner of (Gaston Phoebus waved from hia pavilion, the guard of honour kept the ground, but the population of the isle were present in numbers and in their most showy costume, and a battery of ancient Turkish guns fired a salute without an accident.
The Prince Agathonides was a youth, good looking and dressed in a splendid Palikar costume, though his manners were quite European, being an attache to the Turkish em-
LOTH AIR. 391
bassj at Vieima. He had with him a sort of govemor, a secretary, Berrants in Mamlouk dresses, pipe-bearers, and gTOoms, there being some horses as presents from his father to Mr. Phoebas, and some rarely embroidered kerchiefs and CDoice perfximes and Persian greyhounds for the ladies.
The arrival of the yonng Prince was the signal for a series of entertainments in the island. First of all ^Ir. Phoebus resolved to give a dinner in the Frank style, to prove to Agathonides that there were other members of the Cantacuzene &mily besides himself who comprehended a firstrate Frank dinner. The chief people of the island were invited to this banquet. They drank the choicest grapes of France and Qermany, were stufied with tmffles, and sate on little cane chairs. But one might detect in their countenances how they sighed for their ea.sy divans, their simple dishes, and their resinous wine. Then thei*e was a wolf-hunt, and other sport ; a great day of gymnasia, many dances and much music ; in fact, there were choruses all over the island, and every night was a serenade.
Why such general joy ? Because it was understood that the heir apparent of the isle, their future sovereign, had in fact arrived to make his bow to the beautiful Euphrosyne, though he saw her for the first time.
CHAPTER LXXTV.
Vert shortly after his arrival at Malta, Mr. Phoebus had spoken to Lothair about Theodora. It appeared i^at Lucien Campian, though severely wounded, had escaped with Gburibaldi after the battle of Mentana into the Italian territories. Here they were at once arrested, but not aeverelj detained, and Colonel Campian took the first
392 LOTIIAIR.
opportfunity of revisiting Eii(j^Iand, wbore, after M)tiliiig hi£ a&in, he had returned to his native coontrj, from whick he had been separated for many years. Mr. Phoebiu daring the interval had seen a great deal of him, and tha Colonel departed for America under the impression thst Lothair had been among the slain at the final struggle.
' Campian is one of the best men I ever knew,' said Phoebus. * He was a remarkable instance of energy oon;- bined with softness of disposition. In my opinion, hov- ever, he ought never to have visited Europe : he was made to clear the back woods, and govern man by the power o: his hatchet and the mildness of his words. He was fight ing for freedom all his life, yet slavery made and slaver/ destroyed him. Among all the freaks of fate nothing ii more suqtrising than that this Transatlantic planter should have been ordained to be the husband of a divine being, a true Hellenic goddess, who in the good days would bave boon worshipped in this country and have inspired her race to actions of grace, wisdom, and beauty.'
* I greatly esteem him,' said Lothair, * and I shall write to him directly.'
* Except by Campian, who spoke probably about you to uo one save myself,' continued Phcebus, *your name has never been mentioned with reference to those strange transactions. Once there was a sort of rumour that you had met with some mishap, but tliese things were contra- dicted and explained, and then forgotten : and people were all out of town. I beKeve tliat Cardinal Grrandison com- municated with your man of business, and between them everything was kept quiet, until this portentous account of your doings at Rome, which transpired ailer we left England and which met us at Malta.'
' I have written to my man of business about that,' said Lothair, ' but I think it will tax all his ingenuity to ex- plain, or to mystify it as successfully as he did the pre-
LOTH AIR.
393
sndiiig (utventrares. At nuy rate, he will nut havo tliu MsistaDcfl of my Lord CardinaL'
' TLcodnra was a remark&ble TComan on tae-ny tccouuts,' said Mr. Plicebus, 'but particularly on tLis, Uiat, allhoagh one of the moat beautiful women tbat over esisted, she was
irod by beautiful women. My wife adored hor; Euphro- ho haa no entlmsiasra, a<lored her; the Princeaa of ivoli, the most capriciona being probably that ever existed, 'kdored, imd always adored, Theodora. 1 think it tnast have been that there was on hor part a toliil abeence of vanity, and this the more Htmog^e in one whose vocation in her earlier life had been to attract and lite on popular Kpplaose,; but I have seen her quit theatres ringing with admiration and enter her carriage with the serenily of a Phidian mnse.'
' I adored hor,' finid Lolhair, ' but I never could quite solve her character. Perhaps it was too rich and deep for rapid comprehension.'
'We shall never perhaps see her like again," eaid Mr. Plicebus. 'It was a rare eomhinalion, poonliar to tho Tyrrhenian sea. I am satisfied that we must go there to find the pure Hellenic blood, and from thenco it got ta
' We may not Hoe her like agnin, bat we may see her again,' stud Lothair ; ' and eomctimes I think she is always hovering over me.'
In this vein, when they were alone, they were frequently faking of the departed ; and one day (it was before tho Rival of Prince Agathonides), Mr. Phcobns said to Erotbair, ' We will ndo thia nioraing to wliat we call tlio e of Daphne. It is a real laurel i^ve. 8ome of the inst bo immemonal, and deserve to have been red, if once they were not bo. In their Lnge grotesque 8 you would not easily rocogniae your polished friesda f Europe, so trim and glossy and alirublike. Tlio people
394 LOTH AIR.
are very fond of tills grove and make frequent prooessioiis there. Once a year they mnst be headed by their priest. No one knows why, nor has he the slightest idea of the reason of the various ceremonies which he that day per. fofms. But we know, and some day he or his snocessora will equally understand them. Yes, if I remain here long enough, and I sometimes think I will never again quit the isle, I shall expect some fine summer night, when there is that rich stillness which the whispering waves only render more intense, to hear a voice of music on the mountains declaring that the god Pan has returned to earth.'
It was a picturesque ride, as every ride was on this island, skirting the sylvan hills with the sea glimmering in the distance. Lothair was pleased with the approaches to the sacred grove : now and then a single tree with grey branches and a green head, then a great spread of under- wood, all laurel, and then spontaneous plantations of young trees.
* There was always a vacant space in the centre of the gi'ove,* said Mr. Phcobus, *once sadly overrun with wild slirubs, but 1 have cleared it and restored the genius of the 8j)ot. See ! *
They entered the sacred circle and beheld a statue raised on a porphyry j)ede8tal. The light fell with magical efiect on the face of the statue. It was the statue of Theodora, the placing of which in the pavilion of Belmont Mr. PLoobus wa8 superintending when Lothair first made his aocjimintauoe.
CHAPTER LXXV.
B Prince Ag'atbonides seemed qnite to monopolise the RtteatiDn of Itliulame PlirsLua and ]ier sister. TLib waa not very nnrL-asonable, considering that he was tifir ■visitor, the ftiture cUiof of their Loaae, and had biwught them Eo many embroidered pocket-bandkerctiiers, cboice BCenta and fanpy dogs. But Lothair thought it quite dis- gusting, nor could he conceive what they saw in him, what they were talking about or laughing about, for, eo far as be had been able to form any opinion on the eubjcct, the PriDCe wus a shallow -pa ted coxcomb without a Bingle quality to charm any wonnan of eeiise and spirit. Lothair to consider how he coald pursue his travels, where should go to, and when that waa settled, how he fihould
Jnat at this moment of perplexity, as is oflon tlie case, ■ometbing occurred which no one could forosue, but which like every event removed some dilBcuitioa and introduced
^^ualitj ^baho
^^Btthl
■jfthers. ^K Thei ^Hphcebc
t There arrived at the island a despatch forwarded to Mr
cebos by the Russian Amhastiador at Constantinople,
who had received it from hia colleague at London. This
despatch contained a proposition to Mr. Pbtelias to rcpnii
to tie Court of St. Petersburgli, and accept nppointmuntt
^BOf high distinction and emolumcut. Without in any way
^^batrictiug the independent pursuit of his profofision, ho
^Hru offered a large salary, the post of Court painter, and
^■Oie Presidency of the Academy of Fine Arts. Of such
moment did the Russian Government deem the oflicial
prMence of this iliustrioas artist in their country, that it
_WAS intimated, if the arranRement could be offcctod, its
ni^ht be celebrated by conferring on Jlr.
396 LOTH AIR.
PbcBbni a patenfc of nobility and a decoration of & high olasa. The despatch contained a private letter from an exalted member of the Imperial family, who had had the high and gratifying distinction of making Mr. PhoBbn8*6 acquaintance in London, personally pressing the acceptance by him of the general proposition, assuring him of cordial welcome and support, and informing Mr. Phoebus that what waa particularly desired at this moment waa a series I of paintings illustrative of some of the most memorable scenes in the Holy Land and especially the arrival of the ' pilgrims of the Greek rite at Jerusalem. As for this I purpose he would probably like to visit Palestine, the I whole of the autumn or even a longer period was placed at his disposal, so that, enriched with all necessary draw- - ings and studies, he might achieve his more elaborate I performances in Russia at his leisure and with every advantage.
Considering that the great objects in life with Mr. Phoebus were to live in an Aryan country, amid an Aryan race, and produce works which should revive for the benefit of human nature Aryan creeds, a proposition to pass some of the prime years of his life among the Mon- golian race, and at the same time devote his pencil to the celebration of Semitic subjects, was startling.
* I sball say notliing to Madame Phoebus until the Prince has gone,* he remarked to Lothair : * he will go the day after to-morrow. I do not know what they may offer to make me; probably only a Baron, perhaps a CJount. But you know in Russia a man may become a Prince, and I cer- tainly should like those Cantacuzenes to feel that after all their daughter is a Princess with no thanks to them. The climate is detestable, but one owes much to one's profes- sion. Art would be honoured at a great, perhaps tho greatest. Court. There would not bo a fellow at his easel ui the streets about Fitzroy Square who would not be
I
LOTH AIR.
397
rader. I wonder what the decoi'aticm will be. " Of h
class ; " Tagne. It might bo Alexander Nowsky.
Woo. know yon have a fight, whatever yonr deisonition, t«
»ve it expressed, of course at your own expenao, in bril-
tnts. I confirss I have uiy weaknesses. I should like to
orer to the Acadeniy dinner (one can do anytbing in
B days of raiJroiids) and dine with the R. A.s in my
gibhon and the star of the Alexander Nowsky in brilliants.
[ think every Academician wonkl feel elevated. What I
1 their Semitic siiljjects, nothing bnt drapery.
Br eren their heads in those scorching climes.
n anyone make anytbing of a caravan of pilgrims ? To
re, tlioy say no one can draw a camel. If I went to
ilom a camel woold at Inst bo drawn. Tiiere is
iing in that, We mnst think over these thinga, and
dien the Prioco bas gone talk it over with Kladame Phce-
I wish yon all to come to a wise decision, without
B sUghtest reference to my iadividnal tasljas or, it may
be, prejudices.'
The reanlt of all this was that Mr. Phtebus, without ftbeolutely committing liimself, favourably entertained the 1 proposition of the Russian Court ; while, with erfe to their particular object in art, lie agreed to visit Vlestine and execute at least one wovk for his Imperial Heod and patron. He counted on reaching Jerusalem before the Easter pilgrims returned to thi^ir homes.
' If thoy would make me a Prince at once and give mo ■^hfl Alexander Newsky in brilliants it might be wortli Innking of,' he said to Luthair.
The ladies, thoogli they loved their isle, were quite Uligbted with the thought of going to Jerusalem. Ma- 3 Phoibna knew a Ilnasiau Clniiid Duchoag who had uted lo her that she had been both to Jerusalem and Rorquay, and Madame Pha^fans had felt quite ashamed "kat she had been to neither.
398 LOTH AIR.
'I snpposo you will foel quite at home there,* said Euphrospie to Lothair.
* No ; I never was there.'
* No ; but you know ail abont those places and people, holy places and holy persons. The Blessed Virgin did not, I believe, appear to yoa. It was to a yonng lady, was it not ? We were asking each other last night who the young lady could be.*
CHAPTER LXXVI.
Time, which changes everything, is changing even the traditionary appearance of forlorn Jerusalem. Not that its mien, after all, was ever very pad. Its airy site, its splendid mosque, its vast monasteries, the bright material of which the whole city is built, its cupolaed houses of fi'costoiie, and above all the towers and gates and battle- ments of its lofty and complete walls, always rendei-ed it a handsome city. Jerusalem has not been sacked so often or so recently as the other two great ancient cities, Rome and Athens. Its \^cinage was never more desolate than the Campagna, or the state of Attica and the Morea in 1830.
The battlefield of western Asia fi*om the days of the Assyinan kings to those of Mehemet Ali, Palestine endured the same devastation as in modem times has been the doom of Flanders and the Milanese ; but the yea.*8 of havoc in the Low Countries and Lombardy must be counted in Palestine by centuries. Yet the wide plains of the Holy Land, Sharon and bnecnem and Esdraelon, have rt^covered ; they are as fertile and as fair as in old days ; it is the hill culture that has been destroyed, and that is the culture on which Jerusalem mainly depended. Its hilli
rmra terraced gardens, vineyards, and groves of olive trees. And here it is that we lind renovation. The tt^rrafiea are ngain nscending tiie stony heights, &nd the t^je is fii!- qnently gladdened with young plantations. Fruit trei'S, the peach and the pomegraufit«, the Silmond and the fig, □O'er gntciouH groups ; aud the true children of the land, Iho vine and the olive, are again exalting in their native soil.
There is one spot, however, which has been neglecteil, end yet the one that tihould have been the fii-st remcmlwrod, BS it hof) been the most rudely wasted. Dlesscd be tliu hand which plants trees npon Ohvet! Blessed be thu hund that builds gurdena about Sion !
The most remiiikablo creation, however, in modern Jerusalem is the Russian settlement which within a few years has risen on the elevated ground on the western side of the city. The Latin, tho Greek, and the Armeni&ii Churches h:id fur centuries possessed euclused establish- meals in tho city, which, under the iiamo of monasterios, provided shelter and protection for hundreds, it might be Riiid even ihoasanda, of pilgrims belonging to their rospoc- tive rites. The great scale, therefore, on which Rus^a secured ho.Bpitality for her subjects was not in reality so rutiiarkahle us the fact Uiat it seemed to indicate a settled determination to seiiarat« the Muscovite Cburoh altogether from the Greek, and tlirow ofi" what little dependence is Blill acknowledged on tho Patriarchate of Constantinople. Whatever the motive, the design has been accomplished en a large scale. The Russiaa buildings, all well defended, ftre a caravanserui, a cathedral, a, citadel. The consular flag crowns the height and indicates the office of administration } priests mid monks are permanent inhabitants, and a whole curavaii of Mnscovita pUgrima and the trades on which o accommodated within the preoinct.
Mr. Phcpliua, his family a
] be the gaosts
400 LOTH AIR.
of ibo Knssuin Consal, and ererj preparation was mado to insnro the celebrated painter a becoming reception. Vre- quent telegrams had duly impressed the representative of all the Russias in the Holy Land with the importance of liis impending visitor. Even the qualified and strictly provisional acceptance of the Russian proposition by Mr. Phcebus had agitated the wires of Europe scarcely less than a suggested Conference.
'An artist should always remember what he owes to posterity and his profession,' said Mr. Phoebus to Ixv thair, as they were walking the deck, *even if you can distinguish between them, which I doubt, for it is only by a sense of the beautiful that the human family can be sustained in its proper place in the scale of creation, ai d the sense of the beautiful is a result of the study of the fine arts. It would be something to sow the seeds of organic change in the Mongolian type, but I am not sanguine of success. There is no original fund of aptitude to act upon. The most ancient of existing conun unities is Turanian, and yet though they could invent gunpowder and the mariner's compass, they never could understand {)erspective. Man a-liead there ! tell Madame Phoebas to come on deck for the first sight of Mount Lebanon.'
Wlien the * Pan ' entered the port of Joppa they observed another English yacht in those waters ; but before they (M)uld speculate on its owner they were involved in all the ccjni plications of landing. On the quay, the Russian Vice- Consul was in attendance with horses and mules, and donkeys handsomer than either. The ladies were delighted with the vast orange gardens of Joppa, which Madame Phoebus said realised quite her idea of the Holy Land.
* I was prepared for milk and honey,* said Euphrosyne, * but this is too delightful,* as she travelled through lanes of date- bearing palm-trees, and snifTed with her almond- shaped nostrils the all-pervading fragi'ance.
i
LOTHAIR. 401
TI107 passed the night ftt Arimfttl'.eft, a pretty riling Bnrronnded with gardens enelosed with hedges of pritkly pear. Here they found hospitality ia an old convent, bat all the comforts of Enrope and many of the refiuementa of Asia had been forwarded for their aecommodation.
' It is a great homage to art,' said Mr. Phcobus, as he scattered hi.'i gold like a great seigneor of Gascony,
The nest day, two miles from Jemsatem, the Consal mot them with a cavalcade, and the ladies a-wared their hoat that they were not at all wearied with their jonmey, but were quite prepared, in dno time, to join his dinner party, which he was most nnxiona they should attend, aa be had ' two English lords ' who hiui arrived, and whom he had invited to meet them. They were all cui'iouB to know their names, though that, nnfortunatfly, the Consul could not tell them, but he had sent to the English Consu- late to hare them written down. All he could assure them was that they were real Eiiglish lords, not travelling Elnglish lords, but in sober eameatueaa great personages.
Mr. Phcebos was highly gratified. Ho was pleased with hie reception. There was nothing he liked much more than R procession. He was also a sincere admirer of the ftristocrocy of hia country. ' On the whole,' he would say, 'they most resemble the old Hellenic race; excelling in athletic sports, flpeiiking no other language than their own. and never reading.'
'Your fanlt,' he would aometimes say to Lothair, 'and the cause of many of your sorrows, is the Iiabit of mental introspection. Man is born to observe, but if he falls into paychology he observes nothing, and then he is astonished that life has no charms for him, or that, never seizing the oc- i:a5ioii, his career ir a failure. No, sir, it is the eye that must be occupied and cultivatod ; no one knows the capacity of the lyo who has not deTelo[>ed it, or the visione of hcauty and
ilight and inexhaustihle interest which it commands. To
402 LOTH AIR.
a omii who obserres, life is %s different m the exiflienoe of a dreaming psychologist is to that of the animals of the field.*
' I fear/ said LfOthair, * that I have at length fonnd oat the tmth, and that I am a dreaming psychologist.*
'Yon are young and not irremediably lost,* said Mr. Phoobos. 'Fortunately you have received the admirable though partial education of your class. You are a good shot, you can ride, you can row, you can swim. That im- perfect secretion of the brain which is called thought has not yet bowed your frame. You have not had time to read much. Give it up altogether. The conversation of a woman like Theodora is worth all the libraries in the world. If it were only for her sake, I should wish to save you, but I wish to do it for your own. Yes, profit by the vast though calamitous experience which you have gained in a short time. We may know a great deal about our bodies, we can know very little about our minds.*
The ' real English lords * turned out to be Bertram and St. Aldegonde returning from Nubia. They had left Eng- land about the same time as Lothair, and had paired to- gether on the Irish Church till Easter, with a sort of secret hope on the part of St. Aldegonde that they might neither of them reappear in the House of Commons again until the Irish Church were either saved or subverted. Holy week had long passed, and they were at Jerusalem, not quite so near the House of Commons as the Reform Club or the Carlton, but still St. Aldegonde had mentioned that he was begin- ning to be bored with Jerusalem, and Bertram counted on their inmiediate departure when they accepted the invita- tion to dine with the Russian Consul.
Lothair was unafiectedly delighted to meet Bertram and glad to see St. Aldegonde, but he was a little nervous and embarrassed as to the probable tone of his reception by them. But their manner relieved him in an instant, for he saw they knew nothing of his adventures.
LOTH AIR.
403
i of tho evening tit At
A St. Aldegoodc, ' what h I yonrself since we last met ? ! with D8 and Lad & shot at a crocodile.'
Bertram told Lothnir in tho couri tie foand letters at Cairo from Corii wliich there was a good deal aboat Lothair, and which had made him rather uneasy. ' That there was a rumour yon hitd been badly wounded, and some other things,' and a looked him fiill in tho face ; ' bat 1 dare Bay not a rord of truth.'
1 never better in my life,' said Lothair, ' and I Jrvo been in Sicily and in Greece. However, we will talk
all this finolher time.' [ The dinner at tbc Consalate was one of the most snocess- il banquets that were ever given, if to please your gneata B the test of good fortune in such enterprises, St. Aide- I perfectly charmed with the Phasbus family. e did not know which to admire most: the great artist, who wa« in remarkable spirits to-day, considering hs was in a Semitic country, or his radiant wife, or his brilliant sisler-in-law, St. Aldegonde took an early oppor- tunity of informing Sertram that if he liked to go over and Tote for the Irish Cliurch he would release him &om his pair with the greatest pleasure, but for his part he had not the slightest intention of leaving Jerusalem at present, Strange to say, Bertram received this intimation without a murmur. He was not 80 loud in his admiration of the Phcebua family as St. Aldegonde, but there is a silent sentiment sometimes more expressive than the noisiest applause, and more dangerous. BiTtram bad eat next to Euphrosyno and wuh entirely spell-hound.
The Consul's wife, a hostess not unworthy of such ^este, had entertained her fiienda in the Eurojioan style, boar was not late, and the gentlemen who inded the ladies from the dinner-tftblo were allowed to
404 LOTHAIR.
remAin some time in the saloon. Lothair talked much to the Consnl's wife, bj whose side sat Madame Phoebus. Si Aldegonde was always on his legs, distracted by the rival attractions of that lady and her hnsband. More remote, Bertram whispered to Eaphrosyne, who answered him with laughing eyes.
At a certain hour, the Consul, attended by his male guests, crossing a court, proceeded to his divan, a lofty and capacious chamber painted in fresco, and with no furniture except the low but broad raised seat that surrounded the room. Here, when they were seated, an equal number of attendants (Arabs in Arab dress, blue gowns and red shppers and red caps) entered, each proffering a long pipe of cherry or jasmine wood. Then in a short time guests dropped in, and pipes and coffee were immediately brought to them. Any person who had been formally presented to the Consul had this privilege, without any further invita- tion. The society often found in these consular divans in the more remote places of the east, Cairo, Damascus, Je- rusalem, is often extremely entertaining and instructive. Celebrated travellers, distinguished men of science, artists, adventurers who ultimately turn out to be heroes, eccen- tric characters of all kinds, are here encountered, and give the finits of their original or experienced observation with- out reserve.
* It is the smoking-room over again,' whispered St. Al- degonde to Lothair, * only in England one is so glad to get away from the women, but here, I must say, I should have liked to remain behind.*
An individual in a Syrian dress, fawn-coloured robes girdled with a rich shawl, and a white turban, entered. He made his salute with grace and dignity to the Consul, touching his forehead, his lip, and his heart, and took his seat with the air of one not unaccustomed to be received, play- ing, until he received his chibouque, with a chaplet of beads.
V
LOTHAIR. 40s
' That is a good-looking fellow, Lothuir,' aaid St, Aide- is it the dresB that tarna them out such Bwells ? I feel qaite a, lout hy some of these fellows.'
'I thiiik he would be good-looking in any dress,' said Lothajr. * A i^markablo couDt«iiaD(»).'
It waa an oval Tisago, with features in Lamiony with tliat form ; large dark-brown eyes and l««)ies, and brows lalicalclj bat completely defined ; no liair upon the focfl Mpt a beard, fiill but not long. He seemed alxint the s Mr. PhceboB, and his complexion, though paJe^ s clear and fair. [ The conversation, after some rambling, had got npon K Canal. Jlr. Phtebus did not care for the political r the commercial consequences of that great enterprise, |Bt ho was glad that a natni'al diviHion should bo established the gi'oater races and the Ethiopian, It might tpt lead to any considerable result, but it asserted a prin- He looked upon that trench as a protest. ' Bnt would yoa place the Nilotic family in the Ethio- enqoired the Syrian in a voice commanding from its deep sweetness.
'I would ceilainly. They were Cuslum, and that means negroes.'
Tbo Syrian did not agree wilh Mr. Phcehua; he stated
his views firmly and clearly, but williont urging them.
Ha thooght that we must look to the Pelasgi as the
^Bplonising race that hud peopled and produced Egypt.
^iBie mention of Uiu Pelangi Ered Mr. PlKshos to even nn-
^^^obJ eloqncBce. He denounced the Pelasgi as a barbarous
^^»ce: men of gloomy suporstitions who, had it not been
for tho Hellenes, might hare fatally arrested the human
development. The triumph of tho Hellenes was the tri-
[nph of the beantiful, and all that is great and good in
8 owing
lo their v
' It is difficult to a
1 what is great ii
4o6 LOTH AIR.
SjriEn, ' LecaoBe imtionB differ on the mbject and ages. 8ome, for example, consider war to be a great thing, othen condemn it. I remember also when patriotism was a boaat, and now it is a oontroversy. Bnt it is not so diffi- cult to ascertain what is good. For man has in his own being some g^de to such knowledge, and divine aid to acquire it has not been wanting to him. For my part I could not msintAJn that the Hellenic system led to yirtne.*
The conversation was assuming an ardent character when the Consul, as a diplomatist, turned the channel Mr. Phoebus had vindicated the Hellenic religion, the Syrian, with a terse protest against the religion of natare, however idealised, as tending to the corruption of man, had let the question die away, and the Divan were discussing dromedaries, and dancing girls, and sherbet made of pome- granate which the Consul recommended and ordered to be produced. Some of the guests retired, and among them the Syrian, with the same salute and the same graceful dignity as had distinguished his entrance.
* Who is that man ? ' said Mr. Phoebus. ' I met him at Rome ten years ago. Baron Mecklenburg brought him to me to paint for my gre&t picture of St. John, which is in the gallery of Munich. He said in his way (you remember his way) that he would bring me a face of Paradise.'
'I cannot exactly tell you his name,' said the Consul * Prince Galitzin brought him here and thought highly of him. I believe he is one of the old Syrian families in the mountain ; but whether be be a Maronite, or a Druse, or anything else, I really cannot say. Now try the sherbet.'
CHAPTER LXXVn. few things finer than the i
-ning ^
' o[
Matin t (
golden light falls on a walled city with turrota and towers and freqaeot gates: the houses of freestone with terraced or oval roofs sparkle in the bod, while the cnpolaed pile of the Chnrcii of the Holy Sepulchre, the vast monasteries, and the broad ateep of Sion crowned with the Tower of David, vary the monotony of the y^oneral masses of build- ing. But the gloiy of the scene is the Mosque of Omar aa it rises on its broad platform of marble from the deep ravine of Kedrou, with its magniGcent dome high in the air, its arches and gardened courts, and its crescents glit- tering amid the cedar, the cypress, and the palm.
Bectiniug on Olivet, Lothair, alone and in charmed abetraction, gazed ou the woudrous scene. Since his arrival at Jerusalem he lived much apart, nor had he found difGculty in eflecting this isolation. Mr. Phoebua hfid already established a studio on a considerable scale, and was engaged in making sketches of pilgrims and monks, tall doakeys of Bethlehem with starry fronts, iu which he much delighted, and grave Jellaheen aheiks who were tianging about the convent!) in the hopes of obtaining a convoy to the Dead Sea. As for St. Aldegonde and Ber- tram, they passed their lives itt the Russian Consulate, or with its most charming inhabitants. This morning, with the Consul and his wife and the matchless sisters, aa St. Aldegonde always teinned them, they had gone on an to tho Convent of the Nativity. Dinner usually .bled all the party, and then the Divan followed. I say, Bertrom,' said St. Aldegonde, 'what a lucky paired and went to Nubia! I rejoice in the
■ikui
4o8 LOTH AIR.
Div«n, and yet someliow I cannot bear leaying those women. If the matchless sisters would only smoke, by Jove they would be perfect ! *
' I should not like Euphrosyne to smoke/ said Bertram.
A person approached Lothair by the pathway from Bethany. It was the Syrian gentleman whom he had met at the Consulate. As he was passing Lothair, he saluted him with the grace which had been before remarked, an^ ]x)thair, who was by nature courteous, and even inclined ^ little to ceremony in his manners, especially with thos^ with whom he was not intimate, immediately rose, as would not receive such a salutation in a reclining posture.
' Let me not disturb you,' said the stranger, * or if must be on equal terms, let me also be seated, for this is a view that never palls.*
* It is perhaps familiar to you,* said Lothair, ' but with me, only a pilgrim, its efiect is fascinating, almost over- whelming.*
*The view of Jerusalem never becomes familiar,' said the Syrian, ' for its associations are so transcendent, so various, so inexhaustible, that the mind can never antici- pate its course of thought and feeling, when one sits, as we do now, on this immortal mount.*
* I presume you live here ? * said Lothair.
* Not exactly,* said his companion. ' I have recently built a house vrithout the walls, and I have planted my hill with fruit-trees and made vineyards and olive-grounds ; but I have done this as much, perhaps more, to set an example, which I am glad to say has been followed, as for my own convenience or pleasure. My home is in the North of Palestine on the other side of Jordan, beyond the Sea of Galilee. My family has dwelt there from time immemorial ; but they always loved this city, and have a legend that they dwelt occasionally within its walls, even in the days when Titus from that hill looked down upon the temple.'
LOTH AIR.
409
'I Ii»Te often ivishcd to visit the Sea of Galileo,* said liOtliair.
' Well, yon Iiavo now an opportnnity,' said tlie Symn ; ' the Nortli of Palestine, though it lias no tropicul eplen- donr, hoA mach variety and a peculiar natuml charm. The burst and brightness of Bpring have not yet quite r&nlahed ; you would find our plains railiant with wild flowers, and our hills green with yotmg crops ; and though we cannot rival LebHiiDii, we bare forest glades among our famous hilla that w]:cr. once seen arc rcmooiberod.'
' But there is scmothini; to me more interesting than the ^-fplendour of tropical Ht^enory,' BFiid Lothair, * even if ^■jBiUileo could offer it. I wish to visit the cradle of my failh.' ^B 'And yon would do wisely,' said the Syrian, ' for there ^UH no doubt the spiritual nature of inun is developed in
'And yet there are persons at the present day who doobt, even deny, the spiritaal nature of man,* aaid Lothwr. * I do not, I could not ; there are reasons why I could not.'
* There are some things I know, aiid some things I believe,' said the Syrian. ' I Icuow that I have a eool, and I beUeve that it is immortal.'
■ It is science that by demonstrating the insigniiicBnce of thU globe in the vast scaio of creation has led to this in- fidelity,' said Lothair.
* Science may prove the insigniRcance of this globe in the ecale of creation,' said the stranger, 'but it cannot prove the insignificaiioe of man. What ia the earth oom- pftred with the snn P a molehill by a mounlikin ; yet the inhabitant.'' of this earth can discover the elempnl.sof which
* great orb consists, and will probably ere long aacerlAJn D the conditions of its being. Nny, tlie human mind can iiietraf« far beyond the sun. There is no relation tliure-
e between Iha faculties of man and the scale in ci-e&tiou if the planet which ho inhahits.'
4IO LOTH AIR.
* I was glad io Lear jon assert the other night the spiritoal nature of man in opposition to Mr. Phoebns.'
* Ah ! Mr. Phoebos ! ' said the stranger vrith a smfle. * He is an old acquaintance of mine. And I must say he is very consistent, except in paying a visit to Jerusalem. That does surprise me. He said to me the other night the same things as he said to me at Rome many years aga He would revive the worship of nature. The deities whom he so eloquently describes and so exquisitely delineates are the ideal personifications of the most eminent human quali- ties and chiefly the physical. Physical beauty is his standard of excellence, and he has a £Emciful theory that moral order would be the consequence of the worship of physical beauty, for without moral order he holds phy- sical beauty cannot be maintained. But the answer to Mr. Phoebus is, that his system has been tried and has failed, and imder conditions more favourable than are likely to exist again ; the worship of nature ended in the degradation of the human race.'
* But Mr. Phcebus cannot really believe in Apollo and Venus,* said Lothair. • These are phrases. He is, I sup- pose, what is called a Pantheist.*
* No doubt the Olympus of Mr. Phcebus is the creation of his easel,' replied the Syrian. * I should not, however, describe him as a Pantheist, whose creed requires more abstraction than Mr. Phcebus, the worshipper of nature, would tolerate. His school never care to pursue any in- vestigation which cannot be followed by the eye, and the worship of the beautiful always ends in an orgy. As for Pantheism, it is Atheism in domino. The belief in a Creator who is unconscious of creating is more monstrous than any dogma of any of the Churches in this city, and we have them all here.*
* But there are people now who tell you that there never was any Creation, and therefore there never could have been a Creator,' said Lothair.
*And nhich is now adrancod with the confidence of
reltj,' said the Sjrian, ' though all o
has been ut^ed.
■nd vainly urged, thoos&nda of jenrs s^o. There jaost be design, or all we see would be without aense, and I do not believe in the unmeaning. As for tlio natural forcoa to which ail creation is now attributed, we know they are onconsciona, wliile conHcioaeneBS is oa inevitable a portion of our existence as the eye or the band. The conscious cannot be derived &om the nnconscious. Man is divine.'
' I wish I could assure myself of the personality of the Creator,' said Lothair. ' I cling to that, but they say it ia anphUoBopbical . '
' la what sense P ' asked the Syrian. ' Is it more un- philosophical to licliovo in a personal God, omnipotent and omniscient, than in natural forces onconsciouB and irre- sistible p Is it un philosophical to combine power with intelligence ? Goethe, a Spinozist who did not believe in Spinoza, said that ho could bring bis mind to thu concep- tion that in the centre of space wo might nicet with & monad of pure intelligence. What may be the centre of space 1 leave to the diedal imagination of the author of " Faust ;" but a monad of pure intelligence, is that more philosophical than the truth, lirst revealed to man amid these everlasting hills,' said the Syrian, ' that Ood made His own image ? '
' I have ollen found in that assurunco a source of Bublime lansolation,' said Lotbair.
a the charter of the nobility of man,' eaid the Bjriaa, * one of the divine dogmas revealed in this land ;
t the invention of Councils, not one of which was held
3 this sacred soil: confused assemblioa first got together by the Greeks, aud then by barbarous nations in barbarous
Yet the divine land no longer tolls us divine ihinga,' I Ijotha.ir.
413
LOTH AIR.
' It uMj, or it iTuj not, have fnllilled ita destiny,' sud the SyriAii. ' " In My Father's house are many manaions," Mid by the varioas bmiliea of nations the designs t^ ibt Creator are tiocomplished. God works by mces, and om wna appointed in dne Beason and after many derolopmenll to reveal and expoand in this land the spintual natnncf man. The Aryan and the Semite are of the same blood and origin, bnt when they quitted their central land thay were ordained to follow opposite conrBOS. £iu.'h division of tlie great race has deTclopod one portion of the donbtn nature of hanianity, till afWr all tlicir wandemigs they ntct ogtun, and, represented by their two choicest fomiUefl, IIm Hellenes and the Hebrews, bronght together the treania of tlieir aoonmnlated wisdom and secured the oirilisation of
'Those among whom I have lired of late,* said LotliiUF, ' have taught me to tra^^t much in Councila, and to beliere tliat withoat them there could he no foundation fye thi Church. I observe 3:011 do not speak in that vein, thoagli like myself you fi.iid solace in those dogmas which reot^niee the relations between the created and the Creator.'
* There oan be no reli^nn without that recognition,' said the Syrian, ' and no creed can possibly bo devised withost each a reci^nition that woald satisfy man. Why yn an liere, whence wo eome, whither we go, these are qneslunU which man is organically fiamed and forced to ask liimiielf, and that would not be the case if they coald not h» answered. Aa for Chnrches depending on Councils, the £rst Council wjis held more than three centuries after the Sermon on the Mount, We Syrians had chnrches in the interval : no one can deny that. I bow before the Divine decree that swept them away from Antioch to Jemsalein, but I am not yet prepared to transfer my spiritnai allegiance to Italian Popes and Greek PatriarcbB. We believe that our family wero among the first followers of Jesus, and
^
fc
LOTH AIR. 413
then heM lajida in Baaban which we bold now.
'e had b gospel once in our district where there was soma
to this, and btnng written by ncighbonra, and
ibablj ftt the time, I dare saj- it was occumte, but the
'estem Chorchea declared our gospel was not authentic,
thoogh why I cannot t«ll, and thoy succeeded in extirpating
it. It was not an additional reason why wo should enter
into their fold. So I aiu content to dwell in Galilee and
tmce the footsteps of my divine Master ; mnaiiig over Hia
life and pregnant aayings amid the mounts He Bancti£ed
and the waters He loved so well.'
10 snn was now rising in the heavens, and the hour arrived when it became expedient to seek the shade, .bfiir and the Syrian rose at the same time. I ehall not easily forget our conversation on the Mount of Olives,' said Lothair, ' and I would ask you to add to this kindness by permitting me, boforo I leave Jerusalem, to pay my respects to yon under your roof.'
' Peace bo with you ! ' eaid the Syrian. ' I live withont the gate of Damascus, on a hill which you will easily recognise, and my name is Pakaclete.'
t
CHAPTER LXXVIII.
passed very agreeably to St. Aldegondo and Bertram Jornsalem, for it was pUNSed entirely at the Russian .lato, or with its intei'estiug and charming inmates, were always making exenrsions, or, as they styled pilgrimt^es. They saw Utile of Lotliair, who would willingiy have conversed with his friend on many topics, bat his IHend was almost always engaged, and if by some clinnco they succeeded in finding themselves alone, Bortrato >poand to ho always preoccupied. Ouo day be siud to
414 LOTHAIR.
Loihair, ' I tell jou wLat, old feUow, if yon want to know all about what has happened at home, I will give jou Corisande's letters. They are a sort of journal which she promised to keep for me, and they will tell jou erexything. I found an immense packet of them on our return from Cairo, and I meant to have read them here ; but I do not know how it is, I suppose there is so much to be seen here, but I never seem to have a moment to myself. I have got an engagement now to the Consulate. We are going to Elisha's fountain to-day. Why do not you come ? '
' Well, I am engaged too/ said Lothair. ' I have settled to go to the Tombs of the Kings to-day, with Signor Paraclete, and I cannot well get off; but remember the letters.'
Tbe box of letters arrived at Lothair's rooms in due season, and their perusal deeply interested him. In their pages, alike earnest and lively, and a picture of a mind of high intclli<^oncc adorned with fiincy and feeling, the name of Lothair frequently appeared, and sometimes accompanied with expressions that made his heart beat. All the rumours of his adventures as they gradually arrived in England, generally distorted, were duly chronicled, and sometimes with comments, which intimated the interest they occa- sioned to the correspondent of Bertram. More than once she could not refrain from reproaching her brother for having left his fnend so much to himself. * Of all yonr friends,' she said, * the one who always most interested me, and seemed most worthy of your affection.* And then sbe deplored the absolute ruin of Lothair, for such she deemed his entrance into the Roman Church.
* I was right in my appreciation of that woman, though I was utterly inexperienced in life,' thought Lothair. * If her mother had only favoured my views two years ago, affairs would have been different Would they have been bettor? Can they be worse] But I have gained expe-
LOTH AIR.
4'5
rienoe. CerfuDlj ; and paid for it witb my heart's blood. And might I not have gained experience tranquiUy, in tha diacharga of the duties of my position at home, dear home ? Perhapa not. And suppose I never had gained experienoe, I still might hare been happy ? And w!mt am I now P Most lone and sad. Bo lone aod sad, that uotliing but tlie magical influence of the scene around me Baves mo from an orerw helming despondency.'
Lotbair passed bis bfe chiefly with Paraclete, and a few neeka after tlieir first acquaintance, they left JeruEalem togclber for Galilee.
The month of May had disappeared and Juno was ad- vancing. Bertram and St. Aldegunde no longer talked about their pair, and their enga<^ments in the House of Commons. There seemed a tacit understanding between tbem to avoid the subject ; remarkable on tbe part of Bertram, for he bad always been urgent ou his brother-in- law to fulfil their parliamcutaiy ohligation.
The party at the Russian Consulate had gone on a gnwd expedition to the Dead Sea, and had been absent for many days from Jerusalem. They were convoyed by one of the sheiks of the Jordan valley, It was a most successful expedition: constant adventure, novel objects and habits, all the spelt of a romantic life. The ladies were delighted witb tlje scenery of the Jordan valley, and the gentlemen had good sport ; St, Aldegonde had killed a wild boar, and Bertram an ibex, whose horns were preserved for Brentham. Jlr. Phmbus inteuHely studied the camel and its habits. He persuaded himself that the ship of Llie desert entirely nnderstood him. ' But it is always so,' be added. ' There IB no animal that in a week does not perfectly comprehend me. Had I time and could give myself np to it, I bavo no doubt I coold make them speak. Nature has endowed me, BO for as dumb animals are concerned, witb a peculiar
4l«
LOTUAIR.
At laet tliia liappy Cftr*vftn was tffaa witbia ngbt of Um walls of Jerusalem.
' I should like to tiave remained In tlie volley of Uu Jonlaa for ever,* said St. AJdegonde.
'And so should I,' whispered Bertnun to Buphrosyvc, ' with the flame companions.'
When thcf hsd returned to the Consolate, they found the poat from England had arrived daring their absences There were despatches for all. It ia an agitating momeat, that nrnval of letters in a distant land, tiord St. Aide- gonde seemed mnch distnrhed when he tore open and pomnod his. His countenance became cloaded ; be dashed his hand through bis dinbevelled looks ; be poated ; and then he said to Bertram, ' Come to mj room.'
'Anything wrong at home ?'
' Not at home,' said St. Aldegonde. ' Bertba ia all righL Bat a moat infernal letter from G\yn, most insolent. If 1 do return I will vote against tbem, Bnt I will not rotnm. I have made op my mind to that. People are so selfish,' exclaimed St. Aldegonde with indignatioa. 'They new think of anything but themselves.'
' Show me his letter," said Bertram. 'I have got a lettw too ; it is from the Dnke.'
The letter of the Opposition whip did not deserve the epithets ascribed to it by St. Aldegonde. It was urgent and oonrteonsly peremptory ; but, considering the oirciim- slonces of the case, by no menns too absolnfe. fUred t« piaster by great tndnlgence, St. Aldegonde was psasiag Whitsuntide at Jerusatom. The parUamentary positiom was critical, and the futnre of the Opposition seemed to depend on the majority by which their rosolutions On the Irish Chni'cb were sent np to the Honse of Lords.
'Well,' said Bertram. ' I see nothing to complain of in that letter. Except a little more crgency, it is almost iho same langnoge as reuched ns at Cairo, and then yoD nid was a capital fellow, aud seemed quite pleased,'
1^
I hkted E^Tpt,' said St. Aldegoiule. ' I tha PjTBjmda, and I was disappointed with the dancing- girls ; and it seemed to me that, if it had not been for tiio whip, we never should have been able to escape. But things are very diiTerent now.'
' Tea they are,' said Bertram in a melancholy tone.
■ Yon do not think of returning p ' said St. Aldegonde.
' Instantly,' rephcd Bcrtrara, ' I have a letter from the Duke which is peremptory. The county is dissatisfied with my absence. And mine ia a queer constituency ; very .erous and several large towns ; the popularity of my .ly gained me the seat, not their absolute influence.'
'My constituents never trouble me," said St. Aldegonde. You have none,' said Bertram.
Well, if I were member for a metropolitan district I would not badge. And 1 little thought yon would have deserted mo.'
' Ah ! ' sighed Bertram. ' You are discontented, because your amu8oment« are interrupted. Bnt think of my posi- tion, torn from a woman whom I adore.'
' Well, you know yon must have loft her sooner or later,' urged St. Aldegonde.
' Why ? ' asked Bertram.
' Yon know what Lothair told ua. She is engaged to her cousin the Prince of Samos, and '
' If I had only the Prince of SamoB to deal with I should care little,' said Bertram.
' Why, what do you mean ? '
' That Enphroayno is mine, if ray family will aanotion onr union, but not otherwise.'
6t. Aldegonde gave a long whistle, and he added, ' I wish Bertiia were here. She ia the only person I know who has a bead.'
'Too see, my dear Onus ville, while yon nre talking of yon* little disappointment*, I am involved in awful diffioulties.'
41 8 LOTH AIR.
' Yon are sure about the Prinoe of Samoa P *
' Clear your head of that. There is no engagement of any kind between him and Euphrosyne. The viait to tha island was only a preliminaiy ceremony, just to show hiia- Bclf. No donbt the &ther wishes the alliance ; nor is then any reason to snppose that it would be disagreeable to the son ; but, I repeat it, no engagement exists.'
' If I were not your brother-in-law, I should have been very glad to have married Euphrosyne myself^' said Si Aidegondo.
* Yes, but what am I to do P ' asked Bertram rather im- patiently.
' It will not do to write to Brentham,' said St. Alde- gonde, gravely ; * that I see clearly.' Then, afler musing a while, he added, ' I am vexed to leave our friends here and shall miss them sadly. They are the most agreeable people I ever knew. I never enjoyed myself so much. But we must think of nothing but your affairs. We must return instantly. The whip will be an excuse, but the real busi- ness will be Euphrosyne. I should delight in having her for a sister-in-law, but the affair will require management. We can make short work of getting home : steam to Mar- seilles, leave the yacht there, and take the railroad. 1 have half a mind to telegraph to Bertha to meet us there. She would be of great use.'
CHAPTER LXXTX.
LoTHAiB was delighted with Galilee, and particularly with the blue waters of its lake slumbering beneath the surround- ing hills. Of all its once pleasant towns, Tiberias alone remains, and that in ruins from a recent earthquake. But where are Cborazin, and Bethsaida, and Capernaum ? A q^up of hovels and an ancient tower still bear the magic
LOTHMR. 419
9 of Magdala, and all nround are green monnts and ■ ^«nt1e slopes, the Bccaes of miriiirles that soFUiiied the heart of roan, and of Bcrmona that never ttre liia ear. Dreams passed over Lothair of BcttUcg for ever on the nhorea of tliese waters and of reproducing nil their vanished happi- ne«s : rehuilding their mcmoi-aMa citJeB, reviving their fisheries, caltivating the plain of Genncsaret and the conn- try of the Gadarenea, and leaking researches \a this cradla of pure and primitive Christianity.
The heritage of Paraclete was iimocg the oakB of Ba^han, a lofty land, rising suddenly from tbo Jordan valley, verdant arid well watered, and clothed in many parts with forest ; there the hoiit of Lothair resided among his lands and people, and himttelf dwelt in a £t<me and castellated building, a portion of which wns of immemorial antiquity, and where he could rally his forces and defend himself in case of the irruption and invasion of the desert tribes. And hero one
P' — >Ta ajrived a mcBsonger from Jerusalem summoning thair back to that city, in consequence of the intended pnrtnre of hia friends. The call was urgent and was obeyed immediately with tliat promptitnde which the manners of the East, requiring no preparation, admit. Paraclete nccjjmpanied hia guest. They had to cross the Jot-dan, and then to trace their way tili they reached the southern Emit of the plain of Eadi'aelon, from whence tbey counted on the following day to reach Joruaslem. While they were enoompcd on this spot, a body of Turkish soldiery seized all their horses, whiuh were required, they said, by the Pacha of Damaacos, who was proceeding to Jcmsalem attending a great Turkish general, who was on a mission to examine the means of defence of Palestine on the Egyptian side. This was very Teiatioua, bat one of those incidents of Eastern hfo against which it ia impossible to cont«nd ) so Lothair and Paraclete wero obliged to take refuge in their pipes beneath a huge and
4IO LOTHAIR.
Bolitary sycamore tree, amu'ting tlie arriial of the Ottomu magnificoen.
Tbey c&m<> &t last, a considerable Torce of cav&lry, thm mulos and biLrbikrouB carriages with the h&rem, nil ik riders and inmntoa enveloped in what appeared to be wind- ing sbccts, white and shapelesa ; aboot tbem enniichs tuul servunta. The ataff of tbe Pachaa followod, pnjoedini^ the grandees who closed tlie march, moaated on AnaEoliii') chfirgera.
Paraclete and Lothair had been obligied to leave th) fp:utefiil shade of tbo ey camore tree, aa tbe spot had been fixed on by the commander of the advanced guard for tte resting- place of the Fachoa. They were etandiug aside ani watching the progress of the procession, and contemplatipf the earliest opportunity of representing their grievances to high aathority, when the Turkish general, or tbe Serasldwi as the Syrians inaccurately styled him, suddenly reined in his steed, and said in a loud voice, ' Captain Muriel.'
Lothair recognised the well-known voice of hia command- ing officer in the Apennine, and advanced to bim with a military salnte. * I must lirat congratulate yon on being olive, which I hardly hoped,' said the General. 'Then let me know why yoa are hei-e.*
And Lothair told him.
' Well, yon shaU have back your horses,' said the Genei'ol ', ' and I will escort yon to El Khuda, In the meantime you must be oar guest ;' and he presented him to the Pucha cf Damascus with some form. ' You and I have bivouacked in tbe open air before this, and not in so blond a clime.'
Beneath the shade of the patriarchal sycamore, the General narrated to Lothair his adventures since they were fellow- combatants on the fatal deld of Mentana.
* When all was over,' couljnued the General, ' I fled with Garibaldi, and gained tbe Italian frontier at Terai. Hen we wei« of conrse arrested by the authoritios ; but not very
Ml
LOTH AIR.
+21
maliciously. I aicnped one moniing, nnd got among tbe monnt&ina in the neigbbourhood of our old camp. I bad ta wander ftboat these parta for some time, for the Papalini were in the Ticinity, and there vras danger. It was a hard time ; bnt I found a friend now and then among the coun- try people, though they are dreadfully Buperstitioua. At last I gut to tbe shore, and induced an honest fellow to put to Bea in an open boat on the chance of aoraetbing turning up. It did in the ehape of a. brigantine from Elba bound for Corfu. Here I waa aura to find frienda, for tbe brotherhood are strong in the Ionian lalea. And I began to look about for businesB. Tbe Greeks made mo eome ofieis, but their achemeB were all vanity, worse than the Irish. Yon remember our Fenian aquabblel From some- thing that tranapired, I had made up my mind, so soon aa I w.-kB well equipped, to go to Turkey. I had had Bomo tranaactiona with the bouse of Cnntacuzene, through tbe kiudnees of our dear friend whom wo will never forget, but will never mention ; and through them I became acquainted with the Prince of Simoe, who in the chief of their houae. He is in the entire confidence of Aali Pacba. I eoon found out that there was real business on the carpet. The Otto- man army, after many trials and vicissitudes, ia now in good cose ; and tbe Porte has resolved to stand no more uonaenae either in this direction.' and tbe General gave a significant glance, 'or in any other. But they wanted a general; they wanted a man who knew his buaincas. I am not a Qarifaaldi, yon know, nnd never pretended to be, I have no genius, or Tolcanic fire, or that sort of thing ; bnt I do presume to say, with f^r troops, paid with tolerable regularity, a battery or two of rifled cannon, and a well -organised commissariat, I am not afndd of meeting any captain of my acquaintance, whatever hia land or longuage. The Turks are a brave people, and there is nothing in their system, political or nlieioaB, which jars with my convictions. In the umy,
which ii all that I much care for, there is Uie csreor of merit, &nd I can promote any able roan that I rcca^niM. As for their religion, they are tolerant and eiact nothing from mo ; and if I bad any religion except Kladre Nature I am. not sure I woald not pntfer Islaiuisra ; which is at least simple, and as little sacerdotal as any urganiswi creed can be. The Porte made me a liberal ofler and I aooepted it. It, GO bnppened that, the moment I entered their Borvio^ I was wanted. They had a difficnlty on their Dalmatisn rronticr; I eottted it in a way they likod. And now I am sent here with fall powers, and am a pacha of the highen clasa, and with a prospect of some warm work. I do not know what yonr views are, bnt, if yon would like a littla more soldiering, I will put yon on my staff; and, for aa^l I know, we may find oar winter-qnartera at Grand Cairo, thoy say a pleasant place for snch a season.'
' My soldiering has not been yery fortunate," said Lothair; 'and I am not quite nu great an admirer of the Turks as yon are, OeneriLl. My mind ia rather on the pursuits of [leaco, and twenty boars ago I had a dream of settling on the BboreB of the Sea of Galilee.'
' Wliatever yon do,' said the General, ' give np dreams.'
' I think yon may bo right in that,' said Lotbair, with half a sigh.
' Action may not always be happiness,' said the Oimraal; ' but there is no happiness without action. If yon will not fight the Egyptians, were I you, I would retuni home and
|
plunge into ail'airs. That |
was a fin |
3 castle of |
yours |
1 visited |
|
one morning ; a man wb |
0 lives 1 |
n such a |
place |
must be |
|
able to find a great deal to do.' |
||||
|
' I almost wish 1 wer |
e there, |
with yon |
for |
my com- |
|
paniou,' said Lothair. |
j |
|||
|
' The wheel may turn,' |
said the Qenoral |
* but I benin j |
||
|
to think I shall not see |
much of |
Europe |
igain. |
I bavo |
|
gpven it some of my best ^ — . |
years aud best blood ; |
and ill |
LOTIIAIR.
42?
CHAPTER LXXX.
had asBisted in eBtablishing tbe Roman republic, I should
not bave lived in vain ; but the old imposture soems to tne stronger thati ever. I htive got ten pood years in mo yet ; and, if I be well supported and in. luck (for, after all, every- thing dejienda on fortune), and manage to put a couple of bundred thousand men in perfect discipline, I may find eome consolation for not blowing up St. Peter's, and may do aomething for the freedom of mankind on the banks of ^Mhe Danube.'
^HIbs. Pdtnst Giles in full toilette was standing before the ^^^untelpiece of ber drawing-room in Hyde Park Gardens, 1 and watching with some ansief j the clock that reaf«d on ib. It was the dinner honr, and Mr, Putney Giles, pap- ticnlar in sucb matters, had not returned. No one looked forward to his dinner and a chat v^ith hia wife with greater Keet than Mr. Putney Giles ; and he deserved the gratificai- tion which both incidents afforded him, for he fairly earned it Fnli of news and bustle, brimful of importance and prosperity, cunshiny and successful, his daily return home, which, with many, perlmps most, men is a process lugu- briously monotonous, was in Hyde Park Gardens, even to ApoUonia, who possessed many means of amusement and occupation, a source ever of interest and excitement.
To-day too, particularly, for their great client, friend,
md patron, Lothair, had arrived last night from the Con-
inont at Muriel House, and bad directed ilr. Putney Giles
a attendance on him on the afternoon of this day.
Muriel House was a family mansion in the Green Park.
I built of hewn stone during the last century ; a
^Uadian edilice, for a tittie much neglected, but now
petored and duly prepared for the reception of itn lord
424 LOTH AIR.
and master bj tlie same combined energy and taste wbibh had proved so satis&ctory and sacoessfal atMoriel Towers.
It was a long room, the firont saloon at Hyde F^ (hardens, and the door was as remote as possible from the mantelpiece. It opened suddenly, bat only the pantbg &oe of M& Putney GKles was seen, as he poured forth in hurried words : ' My dear, dreadftdly late, but I can dress in five minutes. I only opened the door in passing, to tdl you that I have seen our great friend ; wonderful man ! but I will tell you all at dinner, or after. It was not he who kept me, but the Duke of Brecon. The Duke has been with me two hours. I had a good mind to bring him home to dinner, and give him a bottle of my '48. They like that sort of thing ; but it will keep,' and the head vanished.
The Duke of Brecon would not have dined ill had he honoured this household. It is a pleasant thing to see an opulent and prosperous man of business, sanguine and full of health, and a little overworked, at that ro3ral meal, dinner. How ho enjoys his soup ! And how curious in his fish ! How critical in his entr^, and how nice in his Welsh mutton ! His exhausted brain rallies under the glass of dry sherry, and he realises all his dreams with the aid of claret that has the true flavour of the violet.
* And now, my dear Apollonia,' said Mr. Putney Giles, when the servants had retired, and he turned his chair and played with a new nut from the Brazils, ' about our great friend. Well, I was there at two o'clock, and found him at breakfast. Indeed, he said, that had he not given me an appointment, he thought he should not have risen at all, so delighted he was to find himself again in an English bed. Well, he told me everything that had happened. I never knew a man so unreserved, and so different from what he was when I first knew him, for he never much cared then to talk about himself. But no egotism, nothincf of that sort of thing : all his mistakes, all his blunders, as
ho ealled them. Es told me Gver)-thiiig tint I might thorODghl; imderatand hia position, &nd that he might jndge whether the steps I had taken in roforeace to it were adequate. *
' I suppose about hia religion,' said Apollonia. 'What ia he, after all ? '
' Ab sound as yon are. But yoD are ngbt ; that was tlie point on which he was most anxious. He wrote, jou know, to me from M&Ita, when the account of his conversion first appeared, to take all secessary steps to contradict the annonncemcnt, and conutoract its coseequonceB. He gave me carte blancbe, and waa anxioaa to know precisely what I had done. I told liim that a mere contradiction, fcnonymooB or from a third persen, however nnqualifled ita language, would have no cfTect in the faoo of a detailed narrative, like that in all the papers, of his walking in pro- cession and holding a lighted taper and all that sort of thing. What I did was this. I commenced building, bj his direction, two new chnrchea on his estate, and an- nounced in the local joamala, copied in London, that ho would be prcBent at the conaeci-ation of both, I snhaoribed in his name, and largely, to all tho dioceitaD societies, gave A thousand pounds to the Biahop of London's fund, and accepted for liim the office of steward for thia year for the Bona of the Clergy. Then, when tho public feeling was ripe, relieved from all its anxieties, and beginning to get indignant at the calumnies that had bccu so freely cir- culated, the time for paragraplia had arrived, and one ftppeared stating tliat a discovery Lad taken place of the means by which an unfounded and preposterous account of the converaion of a distinguished young English nobleman at Rome bad been invented and circulated, and would pro- bably furuiah tho occasion for an action for libel. And now
^liis return and appearauiM at the Chapel Royal next
^KBnnday will clench tho whole businoas.'
4JS
LOTH AIR.
' And lie was satisfied P '
* Host sabtaSed ; a Utile saiiooB whether hia penotil frienda, nnd particularly the BrenUiam family, were b*- Hored of the truth. Ud ti-avelled homQ with the Dalce'i BOO acid Lord St. Alde);oiide ; but they came from remote parts, aud their news from home was not very reueaU'
' And how does he look P '
' Very well ; never saw biro look better. He is hRndsomBT than hu was. But he ia changed. I conld not conceive in ■ year that anyone could be so changed. He was yonug for his years ; he is now old for his years. He was, in fact, a boy J he ia now a mau ; aud yet it is only a year. He ■aid it seemed to him tan.'
' He has been throngh a fiery fiimace,' said Apollonia,
'Well, he has borne it well,' said Mr. Giles. 'It iB worth while serving such a client, so cordial, so &a&k, and yet so full of thought. Ho Bays he does not in the least rc^^t all the money he has wasted. Had he remained at home, it would hare gone to building a catliedral.'
' And a Popish one ! ' eaid Apollonia. ' 1 cannot agres with him,' she continued, ' that his Italian campaign waa ft waste of money. It will bear &ait. We shall still see the end of the " ahomi nation of desolation." *
' Very likely,' eaid Mr. Giles; ' but 1 trust my eliont will have no more to do with snch queations either way.'
' And did he ask after hia friends ? ' said Apollonia.
' Very mnoh ; he aakcd after yon. I think ho woni through all the guests at Muriel Towers except the poor Campiaus. He spoke to me about the Colonel, lo whom it appears he has written ; bat Theodora be never men- tioned, eicojit by some periphrasis, some allnsioo to a great sorrow, or to some dear ft-ieud whom he had lost. He seems a httle embarrassed about the St. Jeromes, and said more tlian once that he owed his life to Mi^a AmndeL He dwelt a good deal upon this. Ho asked also a great deal about
LOTH AIR. 427
lllia Brantliatii fnmilj. They seem the people whom be PtaiOBt aSecta. When I told liim cF Ladj Corisande'H up- proachidg nuon with the Duke of Brecon, I did not think he balf liked it.' ' But ia it settled ? '
' The siune as. The Duke has been with me two hoora 3-d&y aboat hia arrangcinerita. He ha« proposed to the |lBrenta, who are delighted with the match, and haB re- eived every encouragement from t!iB young lady. He )oks upon it aa certain.' 'I wish our kind friend had not gone abroad,' eaid ApoU
Well, at any rate, he has come back,' aaid Mr. Giles ; that is something. I am sure I more than once never !cted to see him again.'
He has every virtue and every charm,' said Apnllonia,
land principles that are now proved. I sball never forget
Bs at the Towera. I wiab he were settled For life.
lot who ia worthy of him ? I hope he will not fall into
clutches of ttiat Popisli girl, I have sometimes. From
hat 1 observed at Muriel and other reasons, a dread mia>
CHAPTER LSXXI.
T woe the first nigbt tbat Lothair bad slept in hia own , and, when be awoke ia the morning, he was quite dored, and tliongbt lor a moment he was in the
•silajiio Agostini. He bad not repoaed in so spacious and inmbcr since he was at K^me. And tbis bronght
ill his recollection to bis Roman life, and everything tbal
■id happened there. 'And yet, after all,' be said, ' had it been For Clare Arundel, I ehoiild never have seen
iaricl Honao. I owe to her my life.' His relationa with
428 LOTH AIR.
the St Jerome fiamily were doubtleas embarrassingy eTen painful; and yet his tender and ansceptible nature eonld not for a moment tolerate that he should passivelj submit to an estrangement from those who had conferred on him so much kindness, and whose ill-considered and injurioiis courses, as he now esteemed them, were perhaps, and pro- bably, influenced and inspired by exalted, even sacred motives.
He wondered whether they were in London ; and if so^ what should he dot Should he call, or should he write 1 He wished he could do something to show to Miss Arundel how much he appreciated her kindness, and how grateful he was. She was a fine creature, and all her errors were noble ones: enthusiasm, energy, devotion to a sublime cause. Errors, but are these errors) Are they not, oq the contrary, qualities which should command admiration in any one t and in a woman and a beautiful woman, more than admiration 1
There is always something to worry you« It comes as regularly as sunrise. Here was Lothair under his own roof again, after strange and trying vicissitudes, with his health restored, his youth little diminished, with some strange memories and many sweet ones; on the whole, once more in great prosperity, and yet his mind har|)ed only on one vexing thought, and that was his painful and perplexed relations with the St. Jerome family.
His thoughts were a little distracted from this harassing theme by the novelty of his house and the pleasure it gave him. He admired the double staircase and the somewhat heavy yet richly carved ceilings ; and the look into the park, shadowy and green, with a rich summer sun and the palace in the distance. What an agreeable contrast to his hard noisy sojourn in a bran-new, brobdignagian hotel, as was his coarse fate when he was launched into London life. This made him think of many comforts for which he
LOTH AIR.
429
ht to be gratefbl ; and then he remembered Mnriel twere, Rod how completely and capitally everytliing was there prepared and appointed ) and while he was thinking over all this and tundly of the chief author of these satis- factory nirnugements, and the iiiat-ances in which that in- diridnal hod shown, not merely professional dexterity and devotion, bat some of the higher qnalitiea that make life Bweet and pleasant, Mr. Putney Giles was announced, and Lothair sprang forward and gave him his hand with a cordiality which repaid at onco that perfect but large- hearted lawyer for all his oxertionR, and some ansietiea that he had never espressed even to Apollonia.
Nothing in life is more remarkable than the unnecessary anxiety which we endure, and generally occasion ourselves. Between four and five o'clock, having concluded hia long Terence with Mr. Putney Giles, Lothair, as if he were iversing the principal street of a foreign town, or rather tip-too like a prince in some enchanted castle, ventured to walk down St. Jamea's Street, and the very first person he met was Lord St. Jerome !
Nothing could be more unaffectedly hearty than his greeting by that good man and thorough gentleman. ' I ■Bw by the " Post " you had arrived,' said Lord St. Jerome, ' and we wore all saying at breakfast how glad we should be to see you again. And looking so well. Quite your- self I I never saw yon looking betl«r. Too have been to Egypt with Lord St. Aldegonde, I think P It was the wisest thing you could do. I said to Gertrude when you went to Sicily, " If I were Lothair, I would go a good deal farther than Sicily.' Yon wanted change of scene and air, jsaore than any man I know.'
And how are they all ? ' said Lothair ; ' my first visit be to them." ' And they will be delighted to see yon. Lady St. Jerome disposed ; a cold caught at one of her bozoarB,
Betwi ^bonfei ^pavei Kreadi
ftriU ^pal
4:o LOTH AIR.
Bhe win hold them, and thej say that no one ever Bella so much. Bat still, aa I often say, my dear Gertrade, would it not be better if I were to give yon a cheque for the institu- tion ; it would be the same to them, and would save you t great deal of trouble. But she fancies her presence in- spires others, and perhaps there is something in iL' ' I doubt not ; and Miss Arundel ? '
* Clare is quite well, and I am hurrying home now to ride with her. I shall tell her that you asked after her.'
' And offer her my kindest remembranoes.'
'What a relief! ' exclaimed Lothaar when once more alone. ' I thought I should have sunk into the earth when ho first addressed me, and now I would not have missed this meeting for any consideration.'
Ho had not the courage to go into White's. He wa« under a vague impression that the whole population of the metropolis, and especially those who reside in the sacred land bounded on the one side by Piccadilly and on the other by Pall Mall, were unceasingly talking of his scrapes and mis- adventures ; but he met Lord Carisbrooke and Mr. Brance- peth.
' Ah I Lothair,' said Carisbrooke ; ' I do not think we have seen you this season ; certainly not since Easter. What have you been doing with yourself? '
• You have been in Egypt ? ' said Mr. Brancepeth. * The Duke was mentioning at Wliite's to-day that you had re- turned with his son and Lord St. Aldegonde.'
• And does it pay ? ' enquired Carisbrooke. ' Egypt ? What I have found generally in this sort of thing is, Ihat one hardly knows what to do with one's evenings.'
'There is something in that,' said Lothair, ' and perhaps it applies to other countries besides Egypt. However, though it is true I did return with St. Aldegondo and Bertram, I have myself not been to Egypt.'
* And where did you pick them up?'
' At Jflnualeui.'
em! What on eaiili oonld they go to Jem-
satem for ? ' Baid Loitl Carisbrooke. ' I am told there ia
DO sort of sport there. They say, in the Upper Nile, there
is good shooting.'
L 'St. Aldegonde wan disappointed. iBnpposeonrconntry-
Haen have disturbed the crooodiles and frightened away
f&e pelicaoB ? '
• We were going to look in at WIiit«'B ; come with hb.'
Lothair was greeted with general kindneas ; bnt nobody seemed aware that be had been long and anuBuolly absent &om tbem. Some had tbemaelvea not come up to town till after Eaater, and bad therefore less caose to misn him. The great majority, however, WL=ro so engrossed with themselves that tbey never missed anybody. The Duke of Brecon appealed to Lothair about Botuetbing that had hap- pened at the last Derby, and was under the imprension, nntil belter informed, that Lothair had been one of his party. There were some eiceptiona to this genera) unac- qnaintance with events which an hour before Lotliair had . fearfully engrossed society. Hugo Bobuu waa
nibly charmed to see him, ' becanse we were all in a e day that they were going to make yoa a cardinal, kn<) it tamed ont that, at the veiy time they said you were about to enter the conulave, yon happened to be at the ■econd cataract. What licH these newspapers do tell ! '
But the cbmai of relief was reached when the noble and prey-headed patron of the arte in Great Britain approached him with polished beoignity, and said, ' I can give you perhaps even later news than you can give me of onr friends at Jerusalem. I had a letter &om Kladame PhoefaiiB this morning, and she mentioned with great regret that yoa had jnst left them. Your first ti'avela, I believe F '
' My arst.'
'And wisely placard. Yoa weru right in starling oul
432 LOTH AIR.
and seeiiig the distant parts. One may not ttlwajm liaTe the energy which each an expedition reqoirea. Yon can keep Italy for a later and calmer day.'
ThnSy one by one, all the oerolean demons of the morn had vanished, and Lothair had nothing to worry him. He felt a little dnll as the dinner hour approached. Bertram was to dine at home, and then go to the Honse of Com- mons; St. Aldegonde concluding the day with the same catastrophe, had in the most immoral manner, in the interval, g^ne to the play to see ' School,' of which he had read an account in ' Gkdignani ' when he was in quarantine. Lothair was so displeased with this unfeeling conduct oo his part that he declined to accompany him: but Ladj St. Aldegonde, who dined at Grecy House, defended her husband, and thought it very right and reasonable that one so fond of the drama as he, who had been so long deprived of gratifying his taste in that respect, should take the first opportunity of enjoying this innocent amuse- ment. A solitary dinner at Muriel House, in one of those spacious and lofly chambers, rather appalled Lothair, and he was getting low again, remembering nothing but his sorrows, when Mr. Pinto came up to him and said, ' The impromptu is always successful in life; you cannot be engaged to dinner, for everybody believes you are at Jericho. What say you to dining with me? Less than the Muses and more than the Graces, certainly, if yon come. Lady Beatrice has invited herself, and she is to pick up a lady, and I was to look out for a couple of agreeable men. Hugo is coming, and you will complete the charm.'
' The spell then is complete,' said Lothair ; ' I suppose a lato eight.'
CHAPTER LXXXn.
IjOTBIIB wm breakfaatiiig alone on the morrow, when his servEuit ftDroanced the arrival of Mr. Baby, who had been ordered to be in attendance.
' Show liim up,' said Lothair, ' and bring me the deapatch- boi which is in my dressing-room.'
Mr. Rahy was deeply gratitied to bo again in tha preaecce of a nobleman so eminently distinguished, both for his property and bin taste, as Lotheir. He was profose in hia con^ratnlations to bis Lordship on his return to hia D&tive land, while at the aamo time he was opening a bag, from which he cxtraotcd a variety of beautiful objects, none of them for sale, all executed coinmissiona, which were destined to adorn the fortunate and the fair. ' Thia lo lovely, my Lord, quite new, for the Queen of Madagascar ; for the Empress this, Her Majesty's own design, at least almost. Iiady Melton's bridal necklace, and my Lord's George, the last given by King Jamns II. ; broken np during the Revolation, bnt re-set by na from an old draw- ing with picked stones.'
'Very pretty,' said Lothair; 'but it ia not exactly thin Bort of thing that I want. See,' and ho opened the despatch-box, and took from out of itacrncifix. It was made of some Eastern wood, inlaid with mother-of-pearl ; tha Sgnre carved in brass, Ihongh not without power, and at the end of each of the four terminations of the crons B small CBvi^ cuclosiDg something, and covered nitJi
' continued l/uthair, ' IJiis ritii a carved shell to each pilgrii olchre. Wit,hiB tlicsa (<
B criKtfix, given visits the Holy 9 earth from tba
434 LOTH AIR.
four holj places : Calvary, Sion, Beihlehem, and Oethse- mane. Now what I want it a crooifix, Bomeihing of this dimension, bat made of the most oostlj materials ; the tigare must be of pore gold ; I should like the cross to he of choice emeralds, which I am told are now more precioDi even than brilliants, and I wish the earth of the sacred places to be removed from this cmcifix, and introdnoed in a similar manner into the one which yon are to make ; and each cavity mnst be covered with a slit diamond. Do yon understand ? *
* I follow you, my Lord,' said Mr. Ruby, with glistening eyes. ' It wiU be a rare jewel. Is there to be a limit ai to the cost ? '
*None but such aa taste and propriety suggest,* said fiothair. *You will of course make a drawing and an ctohmate, and send them to me; but I desire despatch.'
Wlien Mr. Ruby had retired, Lothair took from the despatch-box a sealed packet, and looked at it for some moments, and then pressed it to his lips.
In the aftemoou, Lothair found himself again in the saddle, and was riding about London, as if he had never quitted it. lie left his cards at Crecy House, and many other houses, and he called at the St. Jeromes late, but Basked it' they were at home. He had i-eckoned that they would not be, and his reckoning was right. It was im- possible to conceal from himself that it was a relief. Mr. Putney Giles dined alono with Lothair this evening, and they talked over many things ; among others the approach ing marriage of Lady Corisande with the Duke of Brecon.
* Everybody marries except myself,* said Lothair rather peevishly.
* But your Lordship is too young to think of that yet,* aid Mr. Putney Giles.
* I feel very old,' said Lothair.
At this moment there arrived a note from BertnuUi
LOTHAIR. 435
lying liis Tuotlier was quito emrprised aod disappointed lat Lothair had not aekcd to eee hor in tiie morDing, She had expected him as a matter of course at luncheon, id begged that he would come on the morrow. ' I have had man^ pleasant hmcheons in that house,' ,id Ixithair, 'but this will be the last. When all the daughters are married nobody eats Innchcon.'
That would hardly apply to this Family,' said Mr. Pntoey Giles, whn always affected to know everything, and generally did. 'Tiiey are so united, that I fancy tho fitmoaa Inncheons at Crecy HonKe will always go on, and be a popular mode of their all meeting.'
I half agree with St. Aldegpndo,' said Lothair grum- bling to himaeif, ' tliat if one ia to meet that DnJce o( every day at luncheon, for my part I had rather liny away.' In the coarse of the evening there aldo arrived invita- iQs to all tho impending balls and aesemblics for Lolhair, there seemed little prospect of his again being forced dine with bis faithful solicitor as a refuge from misliui* .„Iy.
On tho morrow he went in bis hrougbam to Crecy Onae, and he had each e palpitatiim of the heart when he arrived, tliat for a moment be absolutely thought he must YCtire. His mind was full of JiTU.VLlem, the Mount of Olires, and tho Sea of Galilee. He was never nervous tbon, never ag;itat*?d, never harassed, no palpitations of tho iieart, no dread suKpeii'to. There was repose alike of body fcnd sool. Why did he over leave Palestine and Paraclete? should have remained in Syria for ever, clierishing in a hallowed scoue a hallowed sorrow, of which even the ^ttemess was e^talted and ennobling.
He stood for a moment in the great ball at Crocy House, ■nd the groom of the clianiherH in vain solioitfid his atten- t was aEtooiahing how much passed through hia
436
LOTHAIR.
mind while tba great clock h&rdljr deacribed sixtj Bocond*. But in that space be hnd reviewed hia life, airiTed (it the conclusion that ftll woa vanity and bitterness, that lie had foiled in evcrjtliing, mas misplaced, bad no object and do hope, and that a diatant and anbroken aolitade in some scene where eiUiur the majesty of nature waa OTcrwhelming or ita moral associations were equally sablime, most be hit only refuge. In the meditation of tbe Costnos, or in tbs dirine revorie of saored lands, the bnrthea of existence might be endured.
■ Her Grace is at lunclioon, my Lord,' at length stud tha groom of the chambers, and Lothair was ushered into tha f(a,y and festive and cordial scene. Tbe nnmber of the idf- invited gaeets alone saved htm. His confusion «ras abK>> lute, and the Duchess remarked afterwards that Lothaii seeiDcd to have regained all his sbjme&s.
When Lotbair had rallied and conid survey the aoene, )» fonnd he was sitting by his hostess ; that the Dnk«, not ■ luncheon man, was present, and, as it turned oat afterwards, fur the plensnre of meeting Lothair. Bertram also wm present, and several married daughters, and Lord MouU airy, and Captain Mildmay, and one or two others ; and next to Lady Corisande was the Duke of Bri<con.
So far as Iiothair was concerned, the luncheon was nnaoo- cessM. His conversational powers deserted bim. He an- swered in monosyllables, and never originated a remark. He was greatly relieved when they rose and returned to the gallery in which tliey seemed all disposed to linger. Tha Duke approached bim, and in his mood he found it easier to talk to men than to women. Male conversation ia of t coarser grain, and does not require so mnch play of thonghi and manner : discourse about Sues Canal, and Arab hoiTSes, and pipes and pachas, can be carried on witLont any psycho- lo^cal effort, and by degrees banishes all sensibility. And jDt ha was rather dreamy, talked better than he Ustonod,
did not look his companion in the face as the Dulcn apoke, which was hia custom, and his eye was wandering. Sud- denly, Bertram having joined them and speaking to his btlier, Lothair ilarted away and approached Lady Corisande, whom Lady Montairy had just quitted.
' As I may never have tho opportanity again,' said Lo- thair, ' let me thank yon, Lady Corisande, for some kind thoughts which yon deigned to bestow on mo in my ab- Bence.'
Hia look was serions ; hia tone almost sad. Neither was in keeping with the scene and tho apparent occasion ; and Lady Coriaande, not displeased, but troubled, murmured, ' Since I last met you, I heard yon had seen much and saf- fered much."
' And that makes the kind thoughts of friends more precioUB,' said Lothair. ' J have few : your brother ia tho chief, but even he never did mo any kindnoas so great BB when he told me that you had spoken of me with aympathj.'
'Bertram's friends are mine,' said Lady Coriaande, 'but, otherwise, it would be impossible for ns all not to feel an
interest in , one of whom we had seen so much,' Rho
added with some liesitation.
' Ah 1 Brentham ! ' said Lothair, ' dear Brentbam ! Do you remember once saying to me that you hoped yon should Dever leave Brentham F '
' Did I say so F ' snid Lndy CoriHande.
'1 wish I had never left Brentham,' said Ijothair; 'it was the happiest time of my life. I had not then a sorrow or a care.'
' But everybody baa sorrows and carea,' said Ijady Cori- nude ; 'you have, however, a great many things which OOfht to make you happy.'
' I do not deserve to be happy,' said Lothair, ' for I nade ao many mistakes. My only consolation is
438
LOTHAIR.
that DDC great error wlucb ;on moat deprecated I lure escaped.'
' T&ke a brighter and a nobler view of your life," aajd Lady CoHBaode ; ' feel rather yon hare been tried and not fonnd wauting.'
At this moment the Dachess approached them and intsr^ ruptcd their canversation ; and soon after thia Lotiiair laft Grecy liuuse, stitl moody kit less despoudent.
There was a ball at Lady Clanmorne's in the erenii^, and Lothpjr was present He waa astonl'ihed at tbemunbef of new faces he saw, the new phmaes he heard, the new ft^hions ftlike in dress and manner. Ue ooold not beliere it was tiie same world that ho had qaittod only a year ago. He was glad to take refnge with Hugo Bohnn as with m old friend, and coald not refrain from expressing la that eminent person his surprise at the novelty of all aronnd him.
' It is you, my dear Lothair,' replied Hugo, 'that ia waX' prising, not the world ; that has only developed in yonrah- sence. What coold have induced a man like you to be avray for a whole season from the scone ! Onr forefiithera miglil afford to travel ; the world was then storootyped. It will not do to be out of sight now. It is very well for St. Aldtv gonde to do these things, for the great object of St. Alde- gonde b nut to be in society, and he has never succeeded in his object. But he™ is the new beauty.'
There was a stir and a sensation. Men made fmj and even women retreated ; and, leaning on the arm of Lord Gariabrooke, in an exqoisite costnme that happily displayed her splendid fignre, and radiant with many charms, swept by a lady of commanding mien and statnre, eelf-possessed and even grave, when suddenly turning her hood, ber pretty face broke into enchanting dimples as she exclaimed, * 0 ! cousin Lothair ! '
See, the beautiful giantesses of Afnriel Towera had be-
J
LOTHAIR.
439
oom« tie beaatioB of the aomoTi, Tbcir success had been as saddea and immediate aa it was complete and Bustained.
' Well, ihia is stranger than all ! ' suid Latbair to Hugo Bohun when Lady Flora bad poesed on.
' The only persona talked of,' said Hngo. ' I am proud my previona acquaintance with tUern. I tliink Caris- s serious thoughta ; bat lliere are some who prefeF ly Grizell." Lady Corisaude was your idol last season,' said Lo-
Ob t she is out of the running,' said Hngo ; ' sbe is
But I have not heard yet of any day being fixed, wonder when ha marrieB whether Biecon will keep on IB theatre.' ' TTia theatre ! '
'Yes; the high mode now for a real swell is to hare a loatre. Brecon haa the Frolic ; Kate Simmons is his anager, who calls herself Atbab'e de Montfort. Yon >gbl to have a theatro, Lothair ; and it' there is not onoto ire, yon should build one. It would show that you wei-a ITe again and hikd the spirit of an Engli.iji noble, aiidaUtno r some of your eccentricities.'
'But I have no Kato Simmons who calls herself A Ihiilio i Montfort,' said Lothair ; ' I am not so favonred, Hugo, [owerer, I might succeed Brecon, as I hardly suppose he Ql mainta-in snch an establishment when he is marricid.' ' I beg your pardon," rojoiued Hugo. ' It is the thing sreral of our greatest swells hare theatres and are mar- In fact, a first-rate man should have everything, and fore he ought to have both a theatre and a wife.' ' Well, I do not think your manners have improved since it year, or your morals,' said Lotbnii. '1 have half a ind to go down to Muriel, and shut myself up there.' Uo walked away and saimtcroil into the ball-room. The
440 LOTHAIR.
ftrsi forms he rtcogniaed were Lftdy Gonsaiide wiKzing with the Dnke of Brecon, who was renowned for this accomplishment. The heart of Lothair felt hitter. He rememhered his stroll to the daiiy with the Duchess at Brentham, and their conversation. Had his views then been acceded to how different wonld have been his lot! And it was not his fanlt that they had been rejected. And jet, had they been accomplished, would they have been happy? The character of Gorisande, according to her mother, was not then formed, nor easily scrutable. Was it formed now ? and what were its bent and genius P And his own character P It could not be denied that his mind was somewhat crude then, and his general conclusions on life and duty hardly sufficiently matured and developed to ofi^r a basis for domestic happiness on which one might confidently depend.
And Theodora ? Had he married then he should never have known Theodora. In this bright saloon, amid the gaiety of festive music, and surrounded by gliding forms of elegance and brilliancy, his heart was full of anguish when he thought of Theodora. To have known such a woman and to have lost her! Why should a man live after this ? Yes ; he would retire to Muriel, once hallowed by her presence, and he would raise to her memory some monumental fane, beyond the dreams even of Artemisia, and which should commemorate alike her wondrous life and wondrous mind.
A beautiful hand was extended to him, and a &ir face, animated with intelligence, welcomed him without a word. It was Lady St. Jerome. Lothair bowed lowly and touched her hand with his lip.
*Iwas sorry to have missed you yesterday. We had gone down to Yauxe for the day, but I heard of you from my Lord with great pleasure. We are all of us so happy that you have entirely recovered your health.'
LOTHAIR. 441
* I owe tbat to yon, dearest lady,' aaid Lothair, ' and to tfaoRe tmder joar roor. 1 can nerer forget your goodneas to roe. Bad it not been for jo«, I sliould not have been here or anywhere else'
' No, no 1 we did our best for the moment. Bui I quite a^ree with my Lord, now, that you sUiyed too long at Roma under the circumstances. It was a good move, tliat going to Sicily, and bo wise of yon to travel in Egypt. Men should travel.'
* I have not been to Egypt,' ewd Lothair ; ' 1 liave been to the Holy Land, and am a pilgrim. I wish you would l«ll MisB Arundel that I eIuJI ask her permiaaion to pre.ient her with my crucifix, which contains tlie earth of the Holy Places. I should have told her Lhis myself, if 1 had seen
^her yesterday. Is she here ? '
^^L ' She ie at Tauxe ; she could not tear herself away from
I^B *B°t she might have brought them with her as com- l< pftnioDB,' Eaid Lothair, 'as you have, I appi-ohcnd, yoorself.'
' I will give you this in Clare'e name,' said Lady St. Jerome, as she selected a beautiful flower and presented it to Lothair. * It is in return for your crucifix, which I am sure she will highly esteem. I only wish it were a rose of Jericho.'
Lothair started. The name brought np strange and disturbing associations : the procession in the Jesaiti' Church, the lighted tapers, tiie consecrated children, one of whom had been supematu rally presented with the flower in question. There was an awkwnrd silence, until Lothair, almost witliout intending it, expressed a hope that the Cardinal waa well.
'Immersed in affairs, but I hope well,' replied Lady St. Jerome. 'You kuow what has happened ? But you will •ee bim. He will speak to yon of these matters himself.'
* But I flhoold hko also to hear from you.'
I 442 LOTH AIR.
' * Well, ihej are scaroelj yet to be spoken of^* said Lidj
' St. Jerome. * I onght not perhaps even to haye aUnded to ' the subject ; but I know hovr deeply devoted yon are to I religion. We are on the eve of the greatest event of this i oentory. When I wake in the morning, I always hncj I that I have heard of it only in dreams. And many, all this j room, will not believe in the possibility of its happening. I They smile when the oontingency is alluded to, and if I J were not present they would mock. But it will happen, I am assured it will happen,' exclaimed Lady 8t. Jerome, speaking with earnestness, though in a hushed voice. * And no human imagination can calculate or conceive what may be its effect on the destiny of the human race.' * You excite my utmost curiosity,' said Lothair. ' Hush ! there are listeners. But we shall soon meet again. You will come and see us, and soon. Gome down to Vauxe on Saturday ; the Cardinal wiU be there. And the place is so lovely now. I always say Vauxe at Whit- suntide, or a little later, is a scene for Shakespeare. Yon know you always liked Vauxe.'
*More than liked it,' said Lothair; 'I have passed at Vauxe some of the happiest hours of my life.'
CHAPTER LXXXm.
On the morning of the very Saturday on which Lothair was to pay his visit to Vauxe, riding in the park, he was joined by that polialied and venerable nobleman who presides over the destinies of art in Great Britain. This distingruisbed person had taken rather a fancy to Lothair, and liked to talk to him about the Phoobus family; about the great artist himself, and all his theories and styles ; but espedally
LOTHAIR.
443
about tlie fascinating Madtime Phoebns aud tho captivatiiig Euphroayne,
' You have not found time, I daro eay,' said the nobleman, ' to visit the exhibition of the Boyal Academy ? '
' Well, 1 have only been here a week,' said Lothair, ' and have had so many thi;>gs to ihiuk uf, aud so many persona to see.'
'Nator&Ily,' eaid the noblemtui; ' but I rocommend yoa to go. I am now about to loako my fiftb visit there ; but it is only to a single picture, and 1 envy its owner.'
' Indeed ! ' said Lothair. ' Pi-ay telJ me its subject, thai I may not feil to see it.'
' It is a portrait,' Baid the nobleman ; ' only a portrait, ■ume would say, as if tho finest pictures in the world were not only portraits. Tbe masterpieces of the English school tin portraits, and some day when yon have leisure and in- clination, and visit Italy, yoa will see portraits by Titian and Raffaalle and others, nhk-h are the masterpieces of art. Well, the pietnro in question is a portrait by a young En- glish painter at Rome and of an English lady. I doubt not the subject was equal to the genius of the artist, but I do not think that the modem pencil has produced anything equal to it, both in desiyin and colour and expres.sion. You should Bee it by all means, and I have that opinion of your taat« that I do not think you will be content by seeing it once. The real taste for fine art in this country is proved by the crowd that always surrounds that picture ; and yet only a portrait of an Enjjlish lady, a Miss Ai-undol.'
' A Mii<B Anindel ? ' said Lothair.
'Yob. of a Roman Catholic family; 1 believe a relative of the St. Jeromes. They wore at Rome last year, when thia portrait was executed.'
'If you will permit me,' said Lotbur, 'I should like to ftoooinpany yoa to tho Academy. I am going oat of towa afternoon, bat not far, and could manage it.*
E
444 LOTHAIR.
So ihej w«ni toftUier. It mm tiie ksi edbibitioii of As AoadeiDj in TraiiJgar Sqnairs. The porinii in qiuftkn mm in the large room, and hnng on the eye line ; ao, aa tiie throng about it waa great| it waa not eai^ immediately to inapect it. Bat one or two 'EL.Am who were gliding aboat^ and who looked npon the noble patron of art aa a wofii of diTinity, insensibly oontrolled the crowd, and aecored for their friend and hia companion the opportaniiy which thej desired.
' It ia the finest thing since the portrait of the Cenc!,' said the noble patron.
The painter had represented Ifiss Anmdel in her robe of a sister of mercy, bat with nncovered head. A wallet was at her side, and she held a cracifix. Her beantifiil eyes, fall of mystic devotion, met those of the spectator with a fiuscinating power that kept many spell-boand. In tbe backgroand of the pictare was a masterly glimpse of ihe papal gardens and tbe wondroos dome.
^That most be a great woman,' said the noble patron of art
Loihair nodded assent in silence.
The crowd abont the pictare seemed breathless and awe- strack. There were many women, and in some eyes there were tears.
' I shall go home,' said one of the spectators ; * I do not wish to see anything else.'
^ That is religion,' marmared her companion. * They may say what they like, bat it woald be well for as if we were all like her.'
It was a short half hoar by the railroad to Vaaze, and the station was close to the park gates. The snn was in its I last hoar when Lothair arriyed, bat he was captiyated by the beaaty of the scene, which he had never witnessed in its sammer splendoar. The rich foliage of the great avenaes, the immense oaks that stood alone, the deer
LOTH AIR.
planciiig in tho golden U^fat, and the quaint and Blatel; edifice itself, so finiehed and so fair, with its freestone pin- DftcleB ajid ita gUded vanea gliBtening sTid spiu-kliog in the warm and Incid sky, contrasted with the chilly honra wben the Cardinal and himself had Si-st strolled together in that pork, and vrben they tried to flatter themselves that tho morning mist clinging to the skeleton trees was perhaps the burst of spring.
Lolbair fonnd himself again in hia old rooms, and as hia vaJet unpacked hia toiletto, he fell into one of his reveries.
■ What,' he thought to himself, ' if life after all be only > dream. I can scarcely realise what is going on. It sesma to me I have passed throagh a year of visions. That I should be at Vauxe again 1 A roof I once thought rife with my destiny. And perhaps it may prove so. And were it not for the memory of one erent, I should be a ship without a rudder.'
There were several gnests in the house, and when Lo- thair entered the drawing-room, he was glad to find that it was rather full. The Cardinal was by the side of Lady St. Jerome when Lothair entered, and immediately after saluttDg hia hoatesa it was his duty to addreaa hia late guardian. Lothair had looked forward to this meeting with ap prehension. It seemed impossible that it shonld not to a certain degree be annoying. Nothing of the kind. It WM impossible to greet him more cordially, more aCTectionately than did Cardinal Grandison.
'Yon have seen a great deal since we parUd,' said the Cardinal. * Nothing could be wiser than your travelling, Yoa remember that at Muriel I recommended yon t« go to Egypt, but I thought it better that you should see Borne first. And it answered ; you made the acquaintance of its eminoat men, men whose names will be soon in everybody's month, for before ajiother year elapses Rome will be the oynoBore of the world. Then, when the great qncationa
446 LOTH AIR.
oome on which will decide ihe &te of th« hnman raoe flbr oontnries, joa will feel the inestiiiiable adyantage of heing master of the mtnatioxif and that yon are fiMnilJM* wikh every place and every individual. I think yon were not vwy well at Rome ; bat next time you mnat choose yonr season. However, I may congratulate you on your present looks. The air of the Levant seems to have agreed with jaa.*
Dinner was annoanced almost at this moment, and Lo- thair, who had to take out Lady ClanmorDO, had no oppor- tunity before dinner of addressing anyone else except his hostess and the Cardinal. The dinner party wna large, and it took some time to reconnoitre all the guests. Tjptli^r observed Miss Arundel, who was distant from him and on the same side of the table, but neither Monsig^ore Catesby nor Father Coleman was present.
Lady Clanmorne chatted agreeably. She was content to talk, and did not insist on conversational reciprocity. She was a pure freetrader in gossip. This rather suited Lothair. It pleased Lady Clanmorne to-day to dilate upon marriage and the married state, but especially on all her acquaint- ances, male and female, who were meditating the surrender of their liberty and about to secure the happiness of their lives.
' I suppose the wedding of the season, the wedding of weddings, will be the Duke of Brecon's,' she said. * But I do not hear of any day being fixed.*
' Ah ! * said Lothair, ' I have been abroad and am very deficient in these matters. But I was travelling with the lady's brother, and he has never yet told me that his sister was going to be married.'
'There is no doubt about that,' said Lady Clanmorne. * The Duchess said to a friend of mine the other day, who congratulated her, " that there was no person in whom she should have more confidence as a son-in-law than the Duke." '
Bn^i
LOTHAIR. 447
' Most marriages torn ont unhappy,' said Lotbair, rotier
Oh ! my dear Lord, what can yon mean p ' Well I think so,' he said doggedly. ' Among the lower if we mny jadge from the newspapers, they are always killing their wives, and io our clasa we get rid of them in a more polished way, or they get rid of us,'
' Ton quite aatomsh me with such aeutiiueuta,' said IJady Clntunorne. ' What would Lady St. Jerome think if ebe heard you, who kild me f he other dny that she believed you to be a faultless character? And the Duchess too, your Fnond's mamma, who thinks you so goc"l. &n<l that it ia ao fartQtmte for her son to have snch a companion P '
' As for Lady St. Jerome, she believes in everything,' •aid Lotbair ; * and it is no compliment that she beliovca in me. Aa for my friend's mamma, her ideal character, ac- cording to yoa, is the Duke of Brecon, and I cannot pre- tend to compete with him. He may pleoae the DuoheBS,
|b I camiot say the Duke of Brecon is a sort of man I
ffiire.'
' Well, he is no great favourite of mine,' said Lady Clan- 'I think him overbearing and selfish, and I ehonld ^t like at all to be liia wife."
* What do you think of Lady Corisando ? ' said Lothair.
' I admire her more than any girl in society, and I think she will be tlirown away on the Duke of Brecon. She ia clever and she has strong cliaracter, and, I am told, ia ca- pable of great alToctiona. Her manners are good, Enished and natural ; and she is beloved by her young friends, witieh I alwnys think a test.'
' Do you think her handsome P '
' There can be no qnestioo about that : she is beautiAi], ud her beaaty is of a high clofis. I admire her much more than alJ her sisters. She has a grander mien.' ^L 'Have yoa seen Miss Arundel's picture al ihuAcademyF'
448 LOTH AIR.
* Syerjbodj has seen that: it has made a fary*
* I heard an eminent judge say to-dajy that it ma the portrait of one who mnst he a great woman.*
* Well, Miss Anmdel is a remarkable person.' ' Do you admire her P *
* I have heard first-rate critics say that there was no per. son to be compared to Miss AmndeL And nnqnestionaUy it is a most striking oonntenance : that profound brow and those large deep eyes ; and then her figure is so fine. Bnt^ to tell you the truth, Miss Arundel is a person I never oould make out.'
* I wonder she does not marry,' said Lothair.
* She is very difficult,' said Lady Glanmome. ' Perhaps, too, she is of your opinion about marriage.'
' I have a good mind to ask her after dinner whether she is,' said Lothair. ' I fancy she would not marry a Pro- testant ? '
* I am no judge of such matters,' said Lady Clanmome ; 'only I cannot help thinking that there would be more chance of a happy marriage when both were of the same religion.'
* I wish we were all of the same religion. Do not you ?'
* Well, that depends a little on what the religion might be.'
* Ah ! ' sighed Lothair, ' what between religion and mar- riage and some other things, it appears to me one never has a tranquil moment. I wonder what religious school the Duke of Brecon belongs to ? Very high and dry, I should think.'
The moment the gentlemen returned to the drawing- room Lothair singled out Miss Arundel, and attached him- self to her.
' I have been to see your portrait to-day,' he said. She changed colour.
* I think it,' he contiDued, ' the triumph of modem art,
/
Hnd I oould not easily fix on an; production of tbe old mas- tore tliat exi^ela !t,'
' It was painted at Eome,' she said in B. low \oice.
' So I understood. I regret that when I was at Homo I saw so little of iU art. But my health yoa know was wretched. Indeed, if it had not been for aomo triends, I might Bay for one friend, I should not have been here or in tliia world. I can never express to that person my grati- tude, and it increases every day. All that I have dreamed of angels was then realised.'
' Ton think too kindly of us."
' Did Lady St. Jerome give yon my message about the earth from the holy places which I had placed in a crncifix, and which I hope you will accept from mo, in remembrance of the past and yonr Christian kindness hi me ? I should have lelt it at St. James's Square before this, bnt it re< quired some little arrangement after its travels.'
* 1 sliall prize it most dearly, both on account of ite con> seorated character and for the donor's sake, whom I bavfl ever wished to see the champion of our Master.' ^— ' Ton never had a wish, I am sore,' aatd Lotbair, ' that ^■■fM not anbluoe and pure.'
CHAPTER LXXXrV.
Thbt breakfasted at Vauxo, in the long gallery. It wns ^ways a merry meal, and it was the fashion of the house that all should be present. The Cardinal was seldom ab- sent. He used to say, ' I feel more on equal terms with my friends at breakfast, and rather look forward to my banquet of dry toast.' Lord St. Jerome was quite proud of recoiv- a letters and newspapers at Vau«e earlier by far than 1 at St James's Square i and as all were supplied
450
LOTH AIR.
with Ibeir lett«n and junnuls, tlierc waa a great demand for news, and a proportional circalatioQ of it. I^dy Clan- mome indutged this possiun for gossip amosingl^ odb morning, and read a letter frooj her correspondent, written with the getee of a Sevigne, but which coutalaed details of warriages, elopements, and a murder among their intimato ■cqtuuntiuice, which made all the re&l intflligcnce qaltr insipid, and waa credited for at least half an hour.
The galleTj atVaozewas of great length, and the break' fast-tabte was laid at one end of it. The gallery was of pnneltod oak, with windows of stiuned gloss in tJie Qppei panes, and the ceiling, richljr and beavily carved, was ea- tirely gilt, but with deadened ^Id. Though atatelj, tie general eSect was not &ee from a certain chonict^r oF gloom. Lit, as it was, bj sconces, this was at night mnch Bofl«ned ; bot on a rich aninmer mom, the gravity and re- pose of tliis noble chamber were gralefnl to the senses.
The breakfast was over ; the ladies had retired, atealinir off with the 'Morning Post,' the gentlemen grailiiallj' di*- appearing for the sukco of thuir cigars. The Curdiaal, wltn was couTersing with Lotbair, continued their conversation while walking np and down tho gnJtery, far bora tlie hear- ing of the sorviuiis, who were diaombarra.'wing the brcak- fuiit-table, atid preparing it for luncheon. A risit to a cotintry hoasc, as Pinto says, is a series of meab mitigattd by thu new dresaes of tho ladies.
'The more I ri'Eect on your travcU,' said the Cardinal, ' the more I am satisfied with what has bappunod. I re- cognise die hand of Providence in your preliminary visit to Rome and your enbaequenl one to Jumsalcm. In the vast events which arc impeuding, that man is in a strong posi. tion who Una mode a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchi-e. Ton remember our walk in the park here,' continnod tlia Cardinal ; * I fi.It then that we were on the eve of aone mighty change, but it woa then indefinite, though to me
LOTHAIR. 431
TitAble. Yon wore destined, I was porauaded, lo witiioaa i, even, as I hoped, to take no inconaiderable ihare in its fulfilment But I hardlj believed that I should have been eparod for this transcendent day, a,nd when it is consnm- ^inated, 1 wilJ gratefnlly eiclaim, " Nunc me dimittis ! " ' ^L 'YoD allndu, sir, to siime important matter which Lady ^^Bt, Jerome a lew days ago iutiinat«d to me, bnt it was only Bpa intimation, and purposely very TBgue.'
'There is no doubt,' said the Cardinal, apealdng with Bolenmity, ' of what I dow communicate to jou. The Holy Father, Pius IX., has resolved to sommon an CLcumemcal ^^onncil.'
^B 'As (Ecumenical Council!' said Lothair. ^V ' It is a weak phrase,' resumed the Cardinal, ' to aay it Will be the gi'Btttost event of this ceutary, I believe it will be the greatest event since the Episcopate of St. Peter; greater, in its consequeuces to the human race, than the fell of the Boman Empire, the pseu do- Be formation, or the Berolutiou of France. It is much more than three hnn- dred years since the Ia.st CEcumenical Council, the Council of Trent, and the world still vibi'ates with its decisions. Bttt the Council of Trent, compared with tho impending CoonciJ of the Vntican, will be as tho mediaival world ot Europe compared with the vast and complete globe which man has since discovered and mastered.' ' Indeed I ' said Lothair.
'Why the very assembly of the Fathers of the Church
yviU astonod the Freemasons, and the Secret Societies, and
B Atheists, That alone will bo a demonstration of power
p the part of tho Holy Father which no conqueror from
Mtris to Napoleon has ever equalled. It was only llio
shops of Euro|ie that assembled at Trent, and, inspired
f the Hplj Spirit, their decisions have governed man for
) than three hundred years. Bat now the bishops of
whole world will Bssemble ronnd the chair of St. Petec,
4Sa
LOTH AIR.
ftud prove \jj their preaence Uie catholii; chAracler of tbc Olinrcb. Asia will send its patriarchs and pontiFs, and America and Australia its prelates ; and at home, tay dear jonng friend, the Cotmcil of tlie Vadcaii will offer a strik- ing contract to the CouncU of Trent; Great Britain will be powerfully represented. The bishops of Ireland mighl have been counted on, bnt it is England also tliat will send her prelates now, and some of them will take no ordinary Bhare in transactions that will give a new form and coloni bo human existence.'
* Is it tme, sir, that the object of the Council is to de- clare the infallibility of the Pope ? '
' In matters of faith and morals,* said the Cardinnl quickly. ' There is no other infallibility. That is a eeciet with God. All that we can know of the decision of iho Cooncil on this awful heud is tliat its decision, inspired by the Holy Spirit, must infalbbly be right. We mast ftwait that dcciBion, and, when made known, we most embrace it, not only with obedience, bnt with the in- terior asBcnt of mind and will. But there are other rcHulta of the Conncil on which we may Epeculale; and wliicli, 1 believe, it will ceilainly accompUsb : first, it will Bhow in a manner that cannot be mistaken that there is only one alternative for the human intellect: RationaUem or Faith; and, secondly, it will eifaibit to the Christiui powers the inevitable future they are now preparing fis
' I am among the faithbl,* said Lothair.
' Then yoa must be a member of the Church Catholic,' said the CardinaL * The basis on which God has willed that Uis revelation should rest in the world is the testi- mony of the Catholic Church, which, if considered only as a honmn and historical witneas, aflbrda the highest And most certain evidence fur the fact and the contents of Christian religion. If this be denied, there ts
°i^H
LOTH AIR.
455
QuDg at; bistoiy. Bat the Catholic Ctrnrch is not onlj ft Imman and bistoricHl witness of its own origin, constitn- tion, and authority, it is also a enpemataral and divine witnesa, which can neither fail nor err. When it cecnme- nically speaks, it is not merely the voiue of the Fathers of the world ; it declares what " it hath seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to ns." '
There was a pause, and then Lothair remarked ; ' Ton Baid, sir, that the Council woald show to the civil powers of the Christian world the inovitahle future they are pre- paring for themselves ? '
[ven BO. Now mai'k this, my child. At the Council of Trent the Christian powers were represented, and pro- perly BO, Their seats will be empty at the Council of the Vatican. What does that moan ? The separation between Church and State, talked of for a long time, now demon- strated. And wliat does separation between Church and State mean ? That society is no longer consecrated. The Stvil governments of the world no longer profess to be Catholic. Tlie faithful indeed among their subjoota will be represented at the CouncU by their pastors, but tha civil powers have separated thomselves from the Chnrch; «ther by royal edict, or legialative enactment, or revolu- tionaiy changes, they have abolished the legal statns of the Catholic Church within their tcnitory. It is not their ohoice ; they are urged on by an invisible power that is an ti- Christ] an, and which is the true, natuj-al, and impla- cable enemy of (he one visible and universal Church. The coming anarchy is called progress, because Jt advances klong the lino of dt-porture from the old Christian order of the world. Christendom was the oflspring of the Christian bmily, and the foundation of the Christian family is the ■acrament of matrimony, the spring of all domestic and public morals. The anti-Christian societies are opposed to the principle of homo. When they have destroyed the
454 LOTH AIR.
hearfch, the moralitj of aooiety will perish. A setileiimt in the fonndatioiis maj be slow in sinking, but it brings til down at last The next step in de-Christianising the poii> tioal life of nations is to establish national education with* oat Christianity. This is systematicallj aimed at wherever the revolntion has its way. The period and policy of Julian are returning. Some think this bodes ill for the Church ; no, it is the State that will suffer. The Secret Societies are hurrying the civil governments of the world, and mostly the governments who disbelieve in their existence, to the brink of a precipice, over which monar- chies and law and civil order will ultimately fiJl and perish together.'
* Then all is hopeless,' said Lothair.
* To human speculation,' said the Cardinal ; ' but none can fathom the mysteries of Divine interposition. This coming Council may save society, and on that I would speak to you most earnestly. His Holiness has resolved to invite the schismatic priesthoods to attend it and laboui to bring about the unity of Christendom. He will send an ambassador to the Patriarch of the heresy of Photius, which is called the Greek Church. He will approach Lambeth. I have little hope of the latter, though there is more than one of the Anglican bishops who revere the memory and example of Laud. But I by no means despair of your communion being present in some form at the Council.
I There are true spirits at Oxford who sigh for unity. They vrill form, I hope, a considerable deputation ; but as, not yet being prelates, they cannot take their seats formally in the Council, I wish, in order to increase and assert their influence, that they should be accompanied by a band of powerful laymen, who shall represent the pious and pure mind of England, the coming gfuardians of the land in the dark hour that may be at hand. Considering your previous knowledge of Rome, your acquaintance with its eminent
a and its language, and coDBidering too, aa I well know, t the Holy FBther looks to joa aa one marked out by Providence to assert the truth, it woald please me, and,
I, and pcrhap:
) you to vibit Rome put your mark i
1 this s
B world's history."
' It must yet be a long time before the Cooncil meeta,' ud Lotbair, after a paaae. ,
'Not too long for preparation,' replied the CardinaL
' From tbia hour, niiti! ita assembling, the pulse of humanity
will tbrob. Even at this hour they are speaking of the
pome matters as onrselves alike on the Euphrates and the
H|b, Lawrence. The good Catesby is in Ireland, conferring
^^■ritb the bishops, and awakening tbem to the occasioo.
^^^here ta a party among them narrow-minded and local,
I the eflects of their education. There ought not to be an
Irish priest who was not brought up at the Propaganda,
Yon know that admirable institation. We had some happy
bonrs at Rome together, may wo soon repeat tbnm 1 Yon
were very unwell there ; neat time you will judge of Roma
in health and vigonr.'
I
^Hgonbted. What is more certain are the sorrow and per- plexity which sometimes, without a warning and prepara- tion, suddenly fall upon a family livicg in a world of happinoBS and case, and monling thuir felidty by every
irI disposition. I Perhaps there nerer was a circle that enjoyed life more, d deserved to enjoy life more, than the Bruntham family. « family more admired and less envied. Nobody
CHAPTEB, liXXXV.
4S6 LOTHAIR.
gmdged them their happj gifts and moddeadBf for iheii dememnaoT was so winning, and their manners so cordial and sympathetic^ that ereryone fAt as if he shared their amiable proeperitj. And yet^ at this moment^ the DachesB, whoee coantenanoe was always as serene as her sonl, was walking with disturbed visage and agitated step up sad down the private room of the Dnke ; while his Ghnoe, seated, his bead upon bis arm, and with bis eyes on the groand, was apparently in anxious thought.
Now what had happened P It seems that these excel- lent parents had become acquainted, almost at the same moment, with two astounding and disturbing hucks : theii non wanted to many Enphrosyne Cantacuzene, and their daughter would not marry the Duke of Brecon.
* I was so perfectly unprepared for the communication,* said the Duke, looking up, ' that I have no doubt I did not express myself as I ought to have done. But I do not think I said anything wrong. I showed surprise, sorrow ; DO anger. I was careful not to say anything to hurt his feelings ; that is a great point in these matters : nothing disrespectful of the young lady. I invited him to speak to me again about it when I had a little got over my surprise.'
' It is really a catastrophe,' exclaimed the Duchess ; *and only think I came to you for sympathy in my sorrow, which, afler all, though distressing, is only a mortification ! *
' I am very sorry about Brecon,' said the Duke, ' who is a man of honour, and who would have suited us very well ; but, my dear Augusta, I never took exactly the same view of this affair as you did : I was never satisfied that Gorisande returned his evident, I might say avowed, admiration of her.'
* She spoke of him always with great respect,' said the Duchess, 'and that is much in a girl of Corisande's dis- position. I never heard her speak of any of her admirers In the same tone ; certainly not of Lord Carisbrooke ; I
K
was qnite prepiirod for her re;jcction of him. SLe Dover enconrageJ hba.'
' Well,' said the Dnke, ' I grant you it is mortifying;, infinitely diatressing ; and Brecon is the last man I coolJ bare wisLcd that it should occnr to ; but, aft^r all, onr daughter vmet decide far herself in ench afiaii'e. She is tlie person most interested lu the event. I never influ- enced her Eisl^TB in their choice, and ahe also must be &ae. The other subject is more grave."
' If we could only ascertain who she really is,' said the DnchcBS.
'According to Bertram, fully onr eqaal ; but I confeBS I am no judge of Levantine nobilily,' his Grace added, with a mingled eipresaion of pride and despair.
That dreadftil travelling abroad!' esclaimed theDnchesa,
I always had a foreboding of eometbing disastrous from
Why should he have gone abroad, who has never been
Ireland, or seen half the counties of his own country P '
'They all will go,' said the Duke ; ' and I thought, with St. Aldegonde, he was safe from getting into any scrape of this kind.'
' I should tike to speak to Granville abont it,' said the Duchess. ' WTjen ho is sorious, his judgment is good.'
' I am to see St. Aldegonde before I speak to Bertram,' said the Doke. ' I should not be surprised if be were here immediately,'
One of the social mysteries is, ' how things get about 1 ' It was not the infflrest of any of the persons immediately connected with the subject that Booiety should be aware that the Lady Corisande had declined the proposal of the Dnko of Brecon. Society had no right even to assmne that such a proposal was either expected or contemplated. The Duiie of Brecon admired Lady Corisando, so did many others ; and many others were admired by ^e Uuko of Brecon. The Dnchoss even hoped that, as the seiMion was waning, it might break up, and people go into
458 LOTH AIR.
OiB ooimtrj or abroad, and nothing be obsenred. And jet it * got abont.' The way things get abont ia throagh the Hugo Bohona. Nothing escapes their quick eyes and slow hearts. Their mission ia to peer into society, ILka professional astronomers ever on the watch to detect the slightest change in the phenomena. Never embarrassed by any passion of their own, and their only social scheming being to maintain their transcendent position, all their life and energy are devoted to the discoveiy of what is taking place aroond them ; and experience, com- bined with natural tact, invests them with almost a super- natural skill in the detection of social secrets. And so it happened that scarcely a week had passed before Hagn began to sniff the air, and then to make fine observadoiui at balls, as to whom certain persons danced with, or did not dance with ; and then be began the curious process of what he called putting two and two together, and putting two and two together proved in about a fortnight that it was all up between Lady Corisande and the Duke of Brecon.
Among others he imparted this information to Lothair, and it set Lothair a- thinking ; and he went to a ball that evening solely with the purpose of making social observa- tions like Hugo Bohun. But Lady Corisande was not there, though the Duke of Brecon was, apparently in high spirits, and waltzing laore than once with Lady Ghrizell Falkirk. Lothair was not very fortunate in his attempts to see Bertram. He called more than once at Crecy House too, but in vain. The fact is, Bertram was natu- rally entirely engrossed with his own difficulties, and the Duchess, harassed and mortified, could no longer be at home in the morning.
Her Grace, however, evinced the just appreciation ol character for which women are remarkable, in the confi- dence which she reposed in the good sense of Lord St. Aldegonde at this crisis. St. Aldcgonde was the only one
of hia 8oiiB-m-]ftw whom the Duke rcnlly coiif>idercd &nd ft little feared. When St. Aldegonde was Berions, his iufla- ence ovsr men was powerful, Acd he was serious now. St, Aldegonde, wlio was not conventional, had made the Rcrinaintance of Mr.Cantacazeno immediately on hia return to England, and they had become frieuds. lie had dtiied in the Tybnniian palace of the descendant of the Greek Emperors more thau once, and had determined to make his second son, who was only four years of age, a Greek mer- chant. When the Dake therefore consulted him on ' the catastrophe,' St, Aldegonde took high groand, spoke of Enphrosyne in the way she deserved, as one equal to an elevated social position, and deserving it. ' But if yoo ask me my opinion, sir,' he continued, 'I do not think, except for Bertram's sake, that you have any cause to fret yourself. The family wish her to marry her cousin, the eldest son of the Prince of Saraos. It ia an alliance of the highest, and suits them much better than any connection with na, Besides, Cantacuzene will give hia children large fortunes, and they like the money to remain in the family. A bnudred or a hundred and fifty thousand pounds, per- bftpe more, goes a great way on the coasts of Asia Minor Yon might buy np half the Archipeli^o. The Cnntacn- senes are coming to dine with us next week. Bertha ia delighted with them. Mr. Cantacuscne is so kind as to say he will take Clovis into his counting-house. I wish 1 could indnce your Grace to come and meet him : then yon could judge for yourself. Yon woald not be in the least shocked were Bertram to many the daughter of some of onr great merchants or bankers. This is a great mer- Lnd banker, and the descendant of princes, and his mghtor one of the most beantiful and gifted of women,
worthy to be a princess.' 'There is a good deal in what St. Aldegonde says,' said s Duke afterwards to bis wife. ' The aCTair takes raihei
r
i 460 LOTH AIR.
a different aspeot. It appean they are really people of I high oonfiideratioii, and great wealth too. Nobody oonld ! describe them as adyentorers.'
* We might gain a litUe time,' said the Dncbesa. * I dis- like peremptory decisions. It is a pity we have not an opporhmity of seeing the yonng lady.'
' Granville says she is the most beantifol woman he ever met, except her sister.'
' That is the artist's wife P ' said the Dachees.
* Yes, ' said the Duke ; * I beHeve a most distingaished man, bat it rather adds to the imbrogHo. Perhaps things may turn oat better than they first promised. The &ct is, I am more amazed than annoyed. Ghranville knows the father, it seems, intimately. He knows so many odd feople. He wants me to meet him at dinner. What do yea think about it ? It is a good thing sometimes to jndge for oneself. They say this Prince of Samos she is half betrothed to in attache to the Turkish Embassy at Vienna^ and is to visit England.'
' My nervous system is quite shaken,' said the Duchess. ' I wish we could all go to Brentham. I mentioned it to Corisande this morning, and I was surprised to find that she wished to remain in town.'
* Well, we will decide nothing, my dear, in a hurry. St A.ldegonde says that, if we decide in that sense, he will under- take to break off the whole affair. We may rely on that. We need consider the business only with reference to Bertram's happiness and feelings. This is an important issue no doubt, but it is a limited one. The business is not of so disagreeable a nature as it seemed. It is not an affair of a rash engagement in a discreditable quarter from which he cannot extricate himself. There is no doubt they are thoroughly reputable people, and will sanction nothing which is not decorous and honourable. St. Aldegonde has been a comfort to me in this matter ; and yon will find out
LOTHAIR. 461
% great deal nben jon Bpeak to bim abont it. Tilings might be wtn^e. I wish I was as easy about the Duke of Brecon. 1 met him this momlng and rode with him, to shioir Uiere «u no change in my U
CHAPTER T^?;XXV1.
Tsi world goes on with its aching hearts and its smiling &ces, and very often, when a year has revolved, the world finds ont there was no sufficient cause for the sorrotre or the smiles. There is much nnnecessary anxiety in the world, which ia apt too hastily to calculate the conse- quences of any nnforescou event, quite forgetting that, acnto as it is in observation, tiio world, where the fature is con- cerned, is generally wrong. The Duchess would have liked lo bniy herself in the shades of Brentham, but Lady Cori- lande, who dejiorted herself as if there were no core at Crecy Houso eacept that occasioned by her brother's rash engagement, was of opinion that ' Mamma wonid only brood over this vexation in the country,' and that it would be much better not to anticipate tho close of the waning season. So the Duchess and her lovely daughter wei-e seen everywhere where they ought to bo seen, and appeai-ed the pictun-B of serenity and satisfaction.
As for Bertram's afl'air itself, nnder the manipulation of St. Aldegonde it began to assume a less anxious and more praoticable aspect. Tho Duke was desirous to secure his son's happiness, but wished nothing to be done rashly. If, for oiample, in a year's time or so, Bortnim continued In the same mind, his father would never be an obstacle to his well-considered wishes. In the meantime an oppor* tunity might offer of maV.ing the aoqaaijitanco of the young lady and her friends.
462 LOTH AIR.
And in the meantiine the world went on, dancing and betting and banqueting, and making speechesy and bceak- ing hearts and heads, till the time aniTed when BocaaJ Btook ia taken, the reanlta of the campaign estimated and ascertained, and the dark question asked, * Where do you think of going this year ? '
*We shall certainly winter at Borne,' said Lady St Jerome to Lady Clanmome, who was paying a morn- ing visit. * I wish you could induce Lord Clanmome to join us.'
*• I wish so too,' said the lady, * but that is impossible. He never will give up his hunting.*
* I am sure there are more foxes in the Campagna than at Yauxe,' said Lady St Jerome.
' I suppose you havo heard of what they call the double event P ' said Lady Clanmome.
* No.'
* Well, it is quite true ; Mr. Bohun told me last nighty and be always knows everything.'
' Everything ! ' said Lady St Jerome ; ' but what is it that he knows now P '
' Both the Ladies Falkirk are to be married, and on the same day.'
' But to whom P '
' Whom should you think P '
' I will not even guess/ said Lady St. Jerome.
'Clare,' she said to Miss Arundel, who was engaged apart, ' you always find out conundrums. Lady Clanmome has got some news for us. Lady Flora Falkirk and her sister are going to be married, and on the same day. And to whom, think you ? '
'Well, I should think that somebody has made Lord Carisbrooke a happy man,' said Miss ArundeL
'Very good,' said Lady Clanmome. 'I think Lady Flora will make an excellent Lady Carisbrooke. He is not
te as tall as she ia, bat he it I^dy OrizelL' ' My powers of divination ar idel.
quite exliaustjsd,' §aid Uiai
WeU, I wilt not keep yon in BOBpenBe,' eaid Tjidy Clftn- me. ' Liidy Griiell is to bo Duchess of Brecon." Duchess of Brecon ! ' eTclaimed both Misa Arundel and Uul; St, Jerome. ' 1 always admired the ladios,' said Mias Arnndel. ' We et tfaem at a country hoase last year, and I thought them pleasing in every way, artless and yet piquant j but I did not anticipate their fate being so soon sealed. * And 80 briltiiiDtly,' added Lady St. Jerome, ' Ton met them at Muriel Towers,' said I^dy Clan- morne. ' I heard of yoa there : a most distinguished party. There was an American lady there, was there not ? a charming person, who sang and acted, and did all sorta of things.'
Bs ; there was. I believe, however, she wad an EbtlJan, married to an American.' ' Have yoQ seen much of your host at Muriel Towers ? ' kid Ifidy Clanmome.
' We see him freqnently,' said Lady St. Jerome. ' Ab ! yea, I remember ; I mot him at Vanxc Ibe other day. Ee is a great admirer of yonrs,' Lady Clanmome added, addressing Miss Arundel.
Oh 1 we are friends, and have long been so,' aoid Misa -Arundel, and she left the room.
Clare does not recognise admirers,' said Lady St. Jeromu p»vely.
' I liopv tho ccclosinstical fancy ia not reviving,' eald Lrwly Sonmome. ' I was half in hopes thnt the lord of Muriel 'owers might have deprived the Church of its bride.' ' That could never be,' said Lady St Jerome ; ' though, if it could have been, a source of happiness to Lord St
464 LOTH AIR.
Jerome and mysolf would not have been wanting. We groatlj regard onr IririHTnan, bat betvreen onraelves,* added Ladj St. Jerome in a low voioe, * it was snppoaed that he was attached to the American ladj of whom yoa wen upeaking/
' And where is she now P '
* I have heard nothing of late. Lothair was in Italy at the same time as onrselyes, and was ill there, nnder our roof; BO we saw a great deal of him. Afterwards he tra- velled for his health, and has now jnst returned firom the ■ East.' '
A visitor was annonnced, and Ladj Clanmome retiredi
Nothing happens as 7011 expect On his voyage home Tiothair had indulged in dreams of renewing his intimacy at Grecy House, around whose hearth aU his sympathies were prepared to cluster. The first shock to this romance was the news he received of the impending union of Lady Gorisande with the Duke of Brecon. And what with this unexpected obstacle to intimacy, and the domestic embar- rassments occasioned by Bertram's declaration, he had become a stranger to a roof which had so filled his thoughts. It seemed to him that he could not enter the house either as the admirer of the daughter or as the friend of her brother. She was probably engaged to another, and as Bertram's friend and fellow-traveller, ho fancied he was looked upon by the family as one who had in some degree contributed to their mortification. Much of this was imagi- nary, but Lothair was very sensitive, and the result was that he ceased to call at Grecy House, and for some time kept aloof from the Dachess and her daughter, when be met them in general society. He was glad to hear from Boriram and St. Aldcgonde that the position of the former was beginning to soften at home, and that the sharpness of his announcement was passing away. And when he had dearly ascertained that the contemplated union of Lady
I
L
LOTH AIR.
46s
Coris&nde with the Dnko was cerbunl; not to take ptua, Lothair began to reconnoitre, and try lo resume his original
position. But his reception woa not enconraging, at least not aufEcieatly cordiiii for one who by nature waa retiring anrl reserved. Lady CoriBande waa always kind, and afler some time he danced with hor again. But there wore no inyilations to Itmoheon from tho Dacheas ; they never aaked him to dinner. His approaches were received with conrtesy, but he waa not courted.
The annonncement of the marriage of the Dnke of Brecon did not, apparently, in any degree distress Lady Corisande. On tho contrary, she expresaed much eatiafac- tioa at her two yoang friends settling in life with such sncccss and splendour. The ambition both of Lady Flora and Ifidy Grizell was that Coriaando should be a brides- maid. Tbia would be a rather awkward poat to occupy nnder the circnmstaiiceB, so she embraced both, and said that she loved them both so equally, that she would not give a preference to either, and therefore, though she cer- tainly would attend their weddings, she would refrain from taking part in the ceremony.
The Duchess wont with Lady Corisande one morning to Mr. Rnby'a to chooao a present from her daughter to each of the yoong ladies. Mr. Ruby in a back shop pottred forth bis treasures of bracelets, and rings, and lockets. The presents must be similar in value and in beauty, and yet there must be some difference between thorn ; so it was a. rather long and troublesome investigation, Mr. Uuby as usual varying ita monotony, or mitigating its wearisoma- ness, by occasionally, or anddcnly, exhibiting aome splendid or startling production of bis art. Tbepanireof an Empress, the bracelets of Grand- Duchesses, a wonderful fan that was to flutter in the bands of Majesty, bad all in due courae 'ed, as well as the black pearls and yellow diamonds
466 LOTH AIR.
that figare and flash on snoh ocoaBionh, before eyes bo fayonred and so fidr.
At last (for, like a prudent general, Mr. Bobj had always a great reserve), opening a ease, he said, ' There ! ' and displayed a cradfix of the most ezqnisite woifananship and the most preoions materials.
* I have no hesitation in saying the rarest jewel which this oentnry has produced. See ! the figure by Monti ; a masterpiece. Eveiy emerald in the cross a picked stone. These comers, yonr Grace is aware,' said Mr. Bnby con- descendingly, 'contain the earth of the holy places «i Jemsalem. It has been shown to no one bat yonr Grace.'
* It is indeed most rare and beaatifnl,' said the DnchesB, ' and most interesting too, from containing the earth of tbo holy places. A conmiission, of course ? '
' From one of our most eminent patrons,' and then fie mentioned Lothair's name. Lady Gorisande looked agitated.
* Not for himself' said Mr. Ruby. Lady Gorisande seemed relieved.
' It is a present to a young lady, ]Miss Arundel.' Lady Gorisande changed colour, and turning away, walked towards a case of works of art, which was in the centre of the shop, and appeared to be engrossed in their examination.
GHAPTER LXXXVIL
A DAT or two after this adventure of the crucifix, Lothair met Bertram, who said to him, ' By the bye, If yon want to see my people before they leave town, you must call at once.'
' You do not mean that,' replied Lothair, mnch surprised. ' Why, the Duchess told me, only three or four days a^
that they should not leave town until the end of the first week of Angnat. They are going to the weddings.'
' I do not know what my mother a^d to yon, my dear fellow, but they go to Brentham the day after to-morrow, and will not retnm. The Duchess bos been for a long time wishing this, bnt Corisande wonid stay. She thought they woold only bother themselves aboat my aSairs, and there was more distraction for thorn in town. Bat now they are going, and it is for Corisande they go. She is not well, and they have suddenly resolred to depart.'
' Well, I am very sorry to hear it,' said Lothair j ' I shall oall at Crecy House. Do you think they will Bee me ? '
* Certain.'
* And what are your plans ? '
' I have none,' said Bertram. ' I suppose I must not leave my father alone at this moment, He has behaved well ; very kindly, indeed. I have nothing to complain of. Bnt still all is vagae, and I feel somohow or other I ought to bo about him.'
' Have you heard from our dear &ienda abroad F '
' Yes,' said Bertram, with a sigh, ' Eophrosyne writes to me ; but I believe St. Aldegondo knows more about their views and plans than I do. He and Mr. Phcebos correspond much, I wish to heaven they were here, or rather that wo wore with them,' he added, with another aigh. ' How bappy we all were at Jerusalem ! How I hate London ! Anil Brentham worse. I shall have to go to a lot of agri- cultural dinners and all sorts of things. The Duke oxpccta it, and I am bound now to do everything to please him What do you think of doing ? '
' I neither know nor care,' said Lothair, in a tone of great despondency,
' You are a little hipped."
'Not a little. I snpposo it is the excitement of tho lost two yean tbut has spoiled me for ordinary life. But I
468 LOTH AIR.
Gnd the whole thing utterly intolerable, and regret now that I did not rejoin the staff of the GeneraL I shall never have snch a chance again. It was a mistake ; bat one is bom to blonder.'
Lothair called at Crecy House. The hall-porter was not sure whether tho Duchess was at home, and the groom of the chambers went to see. Lothair had never experienced this form. When tho groom of the chambers came down again, he gave her Grace's compliments, but she had a headache, and was obliged to lie down, and was sorry she could not see Lothair, who went away livid.
Crecy House was only a few hundred yards from St. James's Square, and Lothair repaired to an accustomed haunt. He was not in a humour for society, and yet he required sympa4;hy. There were some painful associations with the St. Jerome family, and yet they had many charms. And the painful associations had been grcatlj removed by their easy and cordial reception of him, and the charms had been renewed and increased by subsequent intercourse. After all, they were the only people who had always been kind to him. And if they bad erred in a great particular, they had been animated by pure, and even sacred, motives. And had they erred ? Were not his present feelings of something approaching to desolation a fresh proof that the spirit of man can alone be sustained by higher relations than merely human ones ? So he knocked at the door, and Lady St. Jerome was at home. She had not a headache ; there were no mysterious whisper- ings between hall-porters and grooms of the chamber, to ascertain whether he was one of the initiated. Whether it were London or Vauxe, the eyes of the household proved that he was ever a welcome and cherished guest.
Lady St. Jerome was alone, and rose from her writing- table to receive him. And then, for she was a lady who never lost a moment, she resumed some work, which did
^4oring H 'Wb Hmbsou
Qot interfere witL. their couversatioii. Her taUiiug re eonrce§ were so happy acd inexhanstible, that it si^ified little tliiit her Tiaitor, who was bound in that chftracter to have something to say, was silent and moody.
' My Lord,' she continued, ' has taken the Palazzo AgOHtiw for a term. I think we shoald alwaya pa^s our winters at Rome under any circumstaacea ; but (the Car- dinal has spoken to joa abont the great event) if that comea off, of which, between ourselves, whatever the world may say, I believe there ia no sort of doubt, we should not think of being absent from Rome for a day [4iiring the Council.'
' Why ! it may last years,' said Lothair. ' There is no 1 why it should not last as long as the Council of *Trent. It has in reality much more to do.'
' We do things quicker now,' said Lady St, Jerome. • That depends on what there is to do. To revive faith is more diiScult than to create it.'
' There will be no difficulty when the Church has
assembled,' said Lady St. Jerome. ' This sight of the
^^Sniveraal Fathers coming from the uttermost ends of the
^Bteth to bear witness to the truth will at once sweep away
^^^P the vain words and vainer thoughts of this unhappy
^Bgeiitary. It will be what they call a great fact, dear
Lothair ; and when the Holy Spirit descends upon their
decrees, my firm belief is the whole world will rise as it
were from a trance, and kneel before the divine tomb of
■ St. Peter.'
^H ' Well, we shall see,' said Lothair.
^^ ' The Cardinal wishes yon very much to attend the Council. He wishes you to attend it as an Anglican, representing with a few others our laity. He says it wonld have the very beat ciTect for religion.' H 'He spoke to me,' ^H ' And yon agreed to go F '
470 LOTH AIR.
* I have not rcfiisod him. K I thought I oonld do ai^ good, I am not sure I would not go/ said Lothair; 'hut from what I have seen of the Eoman Court, there is little hope of reconciling our difierencee. Rome is stubbonL Now, look at the difficulties they make about the marriage of a Protestant and one of their own communion. It is cruel, and I think on their part unwise.'
* The sacrament of marriage is of ineffable holiness,' said Lady St. Jerome.
' I do not wish to deny that,' said Lothair, ' but I see no reason why I should not marry a Roman Catholic if 1 liked, without the Roman Church interfering and entirely regulating my house and home.'
* I wish you would speak to Father Coleman about this,' said Lady St. Jerome.
'I have had much talk with Father Coleman about many things in my time,* said Lothair, 'but not about this. By the bye, have you any news of the Men- signore ? '
* He is in Lreland, arranging about the CBcumenical Council. They do not understand these matters there as well as we do in England, and his Holiness, by the Cardinal's advice, has sent the Monsignore to put things right.'
' All the Father Colomans in the world cannot alter the state of affairs about mixed marriages,' said Lothair ; ' they can explain, but they cannot alter. I want change in this matter, and Rome never changes.'
' It is impossible for the Church to change,' said Lady St. Jerome, * because it is Truth.'
' Is Miss Arundel at home ? ' said Lothair.
* I believe so,' said Lady St. Jerome.
'I never see her now,' he said discontentedly. 'She never g^oes to balls, and she never rides. Except occasion- ally under this rooif she is invisible.'
' Clare does not go any longer Into society,* said liodj L Jerome.
'Why?'
ret,' said Lady St. Jerome, with some
istnrbance of cooutenance, and speaking i
alo-
'•at least, at present; and yet I c
iwer tone ; aach a
eiibject wish that there Rhonld be a secret from yon ; Clare
is about to take the veil.' ^^ ' Then I have rot a friend left in the world,' said ^^^lOtbair, in a despatrisg tone.
^B Lady St. Jerome looked at him with an anxious glance. H^TcB,' ahe continned, 'I do not wiBh to conceal it from
yoo, that for a time we coold have wished it otherwise ;
it h&s been, it is a trying event for mj Lord and myself;
bat the predisposition, which was always strong, bas ended
in a determination bo absolute, that we recognise tlie
Divine purpose in her decision, and we bow to it.'
' I do not bow to it," said Lothair ; ' I think it barbaron?
'Hush! hnsh ! dear friend.' ' And does the Cardinal approve of tliis step ? ' ' Entirely.'
' Then my conGdonco in him is cntiivly destroyed," said , Lothair.
Ilr WAS August, and town was thinuing fast. Parliament stall lingered, but only for technical purposes ; the political itmggle of the session having terminated at the end of Jnly. One social event was yet to be consummated : the marri^es of Lotbair's consins. They wore to be married cm the same day, at the same time, and in the same plfcoe. yWestminstfli' Abbey was to bo tho scone, and as it wa»
CHAPTER L XXXVIII.
^Wee
472 LOTH AIR.
underotood that tiie serrice was to be chonl, great ezpecta- tiona of ecclesiastical splendour and effect were mnch anti- cipated by the fair sex. They were however doomed to dis- i^ipointment^ for although the day was fine, the attendance nnmeroos and brilliant beyond preoedent. Lord Cnlloden wonld have ' no popery.' Lord Garisbrooke, who was a ritnalist, mnnnnred, and was encouraged in his resistance by Lady Clanmome and a party, but as the Duke of Brecon was high and diy, there was a want of united action, and Lord Cnlloden had his way.
After the ceremony, the world repaired to the mansion of Lord Cnlloden in Belgrave Square, to inspect the presents, and to partake of a dinner called a breakfiist. Cousin Lo- thair wandered about the rooms, and had the satis&ction of seeing a bracelet with a rare and splendid sapphire which he had given to Lady Flora, and a circlet of diamond stars which he had placed on the brow of the Duchess of Brecon. The St Aldegondes were the only members of the Brentham family who were present. St. Aldegonde had a taste for marriages and public executions, and Lady St. Aldegonde wandered about with Lothair, and pointed out to him Cori- sande's present to his cousins.
* I never was more disappointed than by your family leav- ing town so early this year,' he said.
* We were quite surprised.*
* I am sorry to hear your sister is indisposed.'
* Corisande ! she is perfectly weU.'
' I hope the Duchess's headache is better,' said Lothair. * She could not receive me when I called to say fikrewell, because she had a headache.'
* I never knew MftmmA. have a headache,' said Lady Si Aldegonde.
* I suppose you will be going to Brentham P *
* Next week.'
* And Bertram too P '
LOTH AIR.
473
' 1 fymey that we shall be all tbere.' ' t soppose we may consider now that tha aeaaon is reallj STer?' ' Yes 1 thej atajed for tliis. I should not he surprised if
reeryone in tlieae rooms had disappeared by to-morrow.' ' Kiccpt myself," said Lothair. ' Do you think of going abroad again ? ' 'One might as well go,' said Lothair, 'aa remain.' ' I wish Granville would take me to Paris, It seema so
odd not to have seen Paris, All I want is to see the new
■treota and diue at a cafi;.'
'Well, you have an object; that is something,' wiid Ijo-
' Men have always objects,' said Lady St. AJdegonde, 'They make bosiness when they have none, or it makes it- •elf. They move about, and it comes.'
' I have moved about a great deal,' said Lothair, ' and no. Jiing has come to me bat disappointment. I think I shall ike to croquet, like that curious gentleman I remember at Brentham.'
'Ah ! you remember everything.'
' It is not easy to forget anything at Brentham,' said tiothair. ' It is just two years ago. That was a happy time.'
' I doubt whether our re-aaaombling will bo quite as happy bifl year,' said Lady St. Aldogonde, in a serioua tone. ' This engagement of Bertram is an anxious business ; I never r Papa before really fret. And there are other things nrhiob are not without vexation ; at least to Mamma.'
' I do not think I am a great favourit* of your Mamma,' Rid Lothair. ' She once used to be veij kind to me. but the ia so no longer.'
' I am sure you mistake her,' said Lady St. Aldegonde, jut not in a tone which indicated any confidence in
r remark. ' Mamma is anxious about my brother, and ■11 that.'
474 LOTH AIR.
* I believe the Duchess thinks that I am in some way or other connected with this embarrassment ; but I really had nothing to do with it, thongh I ooold not refose my testi- mony to the charms of the yonng lady, and my belief she would make Bertram a happy man.'
'As for that, you know, GranTille saw a great deal more of her, at least at Jerusalem, than you did, and he has said to Mamma a great deal more than you haye done.'
' Yes ; but she thinks that had it not been for me, Ber- tram would never have known the Phoebus &mily. She ooold not conceal that from me, and it has poisoned her mind.'
* Oh ! do not use such words.'
* Yes ; but thoy are true. And your sister is prejudiced against me also.'
' That I am sure she is not,' said Lady St. Aldegonde quickly. * Corisande was always your friend.'
* Well, they refused to see me, when we may never meet again for months, perhaps for years,' said Lothair, * perhaps never.'
* What shocking things you are saying, my dear Lord, to-day ! Hero, Lord Colloden wants you to return thanks for the bridesmaids. You must put on a merry fieice.'
The dreary day at last arrived, and very quickly, when Lothair was the only person left in town. When there is nobody you know in London, the million that go about are only voiceless phantoms. Solitude in a city is a trance. The motion of the silent beings with whom you have no speech or sjrmpathy only makes the dreamlike existence more intense. It is not so in the countiy : the voices of nature are abundant, and from the hum of insects to the &11 of the avalanche, something is always talking to you.
Lothair shrank from the streets. He could not endure Che dreary glare of St. James's and the desert sheen of Pall Mall. He could mount his horse in the Park, and soon
LOTH AIR.
47S
Eoee himBelf in mburbftn roads that he once loved. Yea I it iraB irresistible ; acd he made a viat to Belmont. The hoaee
dismantled, and the gardens shorn of their lustre ; bat stilt it WBJ there, TOry fair in the sunshine, and sanctified in his heart. He viaited eToryroom that he had frequented, and lingered in her boudoir. He did not forget the now empty pavilion, and he plucked some flowers that she once loved, and pressed them to his lips, and placed 'them near Hs heart. He felt cow what it was that made him un- happy : it was the want of sympathy.
He walked through the Park to the residence ot Mr. PhcebuH, where he had directed his groom to meet him. Hia lieart boat as he wandered along, and hia eye was dim with tears. What characters and what scenes had he not Iiecome acquainted witli aince his first visit to Belmont ! Ard even DOW, when they had departed, or were absent, what influ- ence were they not eicrcising over hia life, and the life of those most intimate with him 1 Had it not been for hia pledge to Theodora, it was far from improbable that he would now have been a member of the Roman Catholic Ch'irch, and all his hopea at Breutham, and his intimacy with tbe family on wliich he bad most reckoned in life for permanent friendahip and support, (seemed to be marred and blighted by the witching eyes of that mirthful Eophro- Byne, whose mocking words on the moonlit terrace .tt Bel- mont first attracted his notice to her. And then, by as- sociation of ideas, he thought of tbe General, and what hia old commander had said at their laat interview, reminding him of hia fine castle, and expressing bis conviction that tbe lord of sucb a domain must have much to do.
I will try to do it,' said Tyothair, 'and 1 will go down to Mnrid to-morrow.'
476
LOTHAIR.
CHAPTER TiXXXIX.
LoTHAiRy who was very sensible to the charms ot nanue, found at first relief in the beauties of Muriel. The season was propitious to the scene. August is a rich and leafy month, and the glades and avenues and stately trees of his parks and pleasaunces seemed at the same time to soothe and gladden his perturbed spirit. Muriel was still new to him, and there was much to examine and explore for the first time. He found a consolation also in the frequent re- membrance that these scenes had been known to those whom he loved. Often in the chamber, and often in the bower, their forms arose ; sometimes their voices lingered in his car ; a frolic laugh, or whispered words of kindness and enjoyment. Such a place as Muriel should always be so peopled. But that is impossible. One cannot always have the most agreeable people in the world assembled under one's roof. And yet the alternative should not be the loneliness he now experienced. The analytical Lothair resolved that there was no happiness without sym- pathy.
The most trying time were the evenings. A man likes to be alone in the morning. He writes his letters and reads the newspapers, attempts to examine his steward's ac- counts, and if he wants society can gossip with his stud- groom. But a solitary evening in the country is gloomy, however brilliant the accessories. As Mr. Phoebus was not present, Lothair violated the prime principles of a first-clasa Aryan education, and ventured to read a little. It is diffi- cult to decide which is the most valuable companion to a country eremite at his nightly studies, the volume that keeps him awake or the one that sets him a-slumbering.
At the end of a week Lothair had some good sport on
LOTH AIR.
477
Doors, and this reminded h\m of the excellent Campian, who had received and answered hia letter. The Colonel, however, held out but a fiiint prospect of rettirning at pre- aent to Europe, though, whenever he did, he promised to be the gneat of Lothair. Lothair asked some of his neigh- bonra to dinner, and he made two large parties to Blanghtcr grouse. They were grateful and he waa popular, but ' have not an idea in cdrnmou,' thonght Lothair, as trearicd and nninterested he hade hio last guest his last ^od-nigbt. Then Lothair paid a visit to the Lord Lieu- tenant, and Ktayed two nights at Agramont Castle. Here lie met many county notables, and 'great was the com- |(Bnyof tlie preachers;* but the talk waa local or ecclesias- lical, and after the high-spiced condiment!) of the conversa- tion to which he was accustomed, the present discourse was inrapid even to nausea. He sought some relief iu the .tociety of Lady Idn^Alice, but she blushed when she spoke to him, and tittered when he replied to her; and at last ho {bund refuge in pretty Mrs. Ardenne, who concluded by uldng him for his photograph.
On the morrow of hia return to Muriel, the servant briag.
g in his lettora, he seized one in the handwriting of Ber- tram, and discarding the rest, devoured the communieatior
hia fi-iend, which waa eventftil.
It aeems that the Phtobus family had returned to Eng- land, and were at Brcntham, and had been there a week. The family were dehghted with them, and Euphrosyne was
especial favourite. But this waa not all. It seems tliat Mr. Cantacnzeno had been down to Brentham, and stayed, which ho never did anywhere, a couple of days. And the Duke waa particularly charmed with Mr. Cautacnzono. This gentlemau, who was only in the earlier t«rra of middle «ge, and looked younger than iiia age, was diatingoished in ftppearanco, highly polished, and singularly acute. He ap- peared to be the master of great wealth, for he uU'erod to
478 LOTHAIR.
make apon Eaphrosjne any settlement which ihe Duke desired. He had no son, and did not wish his sons-in-law to be sighing for his death. He wished his danghten, therefore, to enjoy the balk of their inheritance in his life- time. Ue told the Duke that he had placed one hundred tlioasand pounds in the names of trustees on the marriage of Madame Phoebus, to accumulate, ' and when the genius and vanitj of her husband are both exhausted, though I believe they are inexhaustible,' remarked Mr. Gantacnzene, ' it will be a nest's egg for them to &11 back upon, and at least save them from penury.' The Duke had no doubt that Mr. Cantacuzene was of imperial lineage. But the latter portion of the letter was the most deeply interesting to Lothair. Bertram wrote that his mother had just ob- served that she thought the Phcebus family would like to meet Lothair, and begged Bertram to invite him to Brent- ham. The letter ended by an urgent request that, if dis- engaged, he should arrive immediately.
Mr. Phoebus highly approved of Brentham. All was art, and art of a high character. He knew no residence with an aspect so thoroughly Aryan. Though it was reaUy a family party, the house was quite full ; at least, as Bertram said to Lothair on his arrival, ' there is only room for you, and you are in your old quarters.'
' That is exactly what I wished,' said Lothair.
Ho had to escort the Duchess to dinner. Her manner was of old days. ' I thought you would like to meet your friends,' she said.
' It gives me much pleasure, but much more to find my- self again at Brentham.'
* There seems every prospect of Bertram being happy. We are enchanted with the young lady. You know her, I l)elieve, well P The Duke is highly pleased with her father, &fr. Cantacuzene ; he says one of the most sensible men he ever met, and a thorough gentleman, which he may well
LOTH AIR. 479
be, for I bolioTO there is no doabt be is of tbe higheHt de- Bent : emperors they say, princea even now. I wish yon nnld have met him, but be would only stay ei^ht-and-forty I nndcrstand hia aflairs are vast.' ' I have always heard a considerable person ; quite the head of the Greek commnnify in this country ; indeed, iu Europe generaliy.'
' I see by the morning papers that Miss Arundel haa p taken the veil.'
'I missed my papers to-day,' said Lothair, & little l^tat«d, ' bat I have long been aware of her intention of
' Lady St. Jerome will miss her very much. She woa [uite the soul of the house,'
li must be a great and painiut sacrifice,' said Lothair ; but, I believe, long meditated. I remember when I was at rVftiuB, nearly two years ago, that I was told this was to be to. She was qnite datermined on it.' I saw the beaatifiil crucifix you gave her at Mr, Ruby's." It was a homage to her for her great goodness to me when I was ill at Rome : and it was difficult to find any- thing that would please or suit her. I fixed on the crucifix, because it permitted me to transfer to it the earth of the holy places, which wore iucluded in the crucifix, that was ilgiven to me by the monks of the Holy Sepulchre when I lade my pilgrimage to Jerusalem,'
In the evening St. Aldegoude insisted on their dancing, and he engaged himself to Madame Phcebus. Bertram and Eophrosyne seemed never separated ; Lothair was success- ful in inducing Lady Coriaande to he his partner.
'Do yon romember your first ball at Crecy House P' [aeked Lothair. ' You are not nervous now ? '
Id hardly say that,' sEud Eiady Corisande, 'though X try not to show it.'
It was the 6rst ball for both of us,' said Lothair. 'I
^Bni
■tti
48o LOTH AIR.
have not danced so maoh in tibe interval as yon Have. Do you know, I was thinking just now, I have danced oftener with you than with anyone else P '
' Are not yon glad abont Bertram's affair ending so well ? '
'Very ; he will be a happy man. Everybody is happy, I think, except myself.'
In the course of the evening, Lady St. Aldegonde, on the arm of Lord Montairy, stopped for a moment as she passed Lothair, and said: 'Do yon remember our conversation at Lord Gnlloden's breakfast? Who was right about mamnia ? '
They passed their long snmmer days in rambling and riding, and in wondrous new games which they played in the halL The striking feature, however, were the matches at battledore and shuttlecock between ^ladame Phoebus and Lord St. Aldegonde, in which the skill and energy displayed were supernatural, and led to betting. The evenings were always gay ; sometimes they danced ; more or less they always bad some delicious singing. And Mr. Phoebus ar- ranged some tableaux most successMly.
Ail this time Lothair hung much about Lady Corisande ; he was by her side in the riding parties, always very near her when they walked, and sometimes he managed uncon- sciously to detach her from the main party, and they almost walked alone. If lie could not sit by her at dinner, he joined her immediately afterwards, and whether it were a dance, a tableau, or a now game, somehow or other he seemed always to be her companion.
It was about a week after the arrival of Lothair, and they were at breakfast at Brentham, in that bright room full of little round tables which Lothair always admired, looking, as it did, upon a garden of many colours.
'How I hate modem gardens,' said St. Aldegonde. ' What a horrid thing this is ! One might as well have a mosaic pavement there. Give me cabbage-roses, sweei-
LOTHAin. jSi
peofi, and wallflowers. That is my iden of a garden. Cori- aaode's garden is lite only sensible tiling of the sort.'
' One likea a mosaio pavement to look like a garden,' said Enphrosyne, 'but not a garden like a mosaic pavement,"
' The worst of these mosaic beda,' said Jfadame Phoebus, ' is, you can revor got a nosegay, and if it were not for the kitchen-garden, we should bo destituto of that gayest and sweetest of creations.'
' Corisande's garden is, since your first visit to Brentliam,' fiaid the Duchess to Lothair. ' No flowers are admitted that Lave not perfume. It is very old-iasldoned. You mnst get her to eltow it yon.'
It was agreed that after breakfast they should go and see Corisande's garden. And a party did go : all the Phceboa family, and Lord and Lady St. Aldegonde, and I^y Corisande, and Bertram and Lothair.
In the pleasure-grounds of Breotliam were the remains D ancient garden of the ancient house that had long
D been pulled down. Wben the modern pleasure-grounds e planned and created, notwithstanding the protests of
1 artists in landscape, the father of the present Duke it allow this ancient garden to bo entirely destroyed, |nd yoa came upon its quaint apjicarance in the dissimilai- f ^orld in which it was placed, as you might in some festival of romantic costume upon a person habited in the conrtly dross of the last century. It was formed upon a gentle eoutbem slope, with turfen terraces walled in on three aides, tbo fourth consisting of arches of golden yew. Tlie Duke had given this garden to Lady Ctrisande, in order that she might practise bor theory, that flower-gardens should be sweet and Inznriaut. and not bard and scentless imitations of works of art. Here, in Iheir season, flourished abundantly ail those productions of nature which are bow
E* — ished from our once delighted senses: huge bashes of eysackle, and bowers of sweet-pea and sweetbriar and
483 LOTH AIR.
jetsamine clustering over the walls, and gOljflowers scenting with their sweet breath the ancient fark^ from which ihej seemed to spring. There were banks of yiolets which the southern breeze always stirred, and mignonette filled eveiy vacant nook. As they entered now, it seemed a blaze of roses and carnations, tliough one recognised in a moment the presence of the lily, the heliotrope, and the stock. Some white peacocks were ^^^l"^g on the southern wall, and one of them, as their visitors entered, moved and displayed its plumage with scornful pride. The bees wen busy in the air, but their homes were near, and you might watch them labouring in their glassy hives.
' Now, is not Corisande quite right ? ' said Lord St. Alde- gonde, as he presented Madame Phoebus with a garland of woodbine, with which she said she would dress her head at dinner. All agreed with him, and Bertram and Euphrosyne adorned each other with carnations, and Mr. Phcebaa placed a flower on the uncovored head of Lady St. Alde- gonde, according to the principles of high art, and they sauntered and rambled in the sweet and sunny air amid a blaze of butterflies and the ceaseless hum of bees.
Bertram and Euphrosyne had disappeared, and the rest were lingering about the hives while Mr. Phoebus gave them a lecture on the apiary and its marvellous Hfe. The bees understood Mr. Phcebus, at least he said so, and thus his Mends had considerable advantage in this lesson in entomology. Lady Corisande and Lothair were in a dis- tant comer of the garden, and she was explaining to him her plans ; what she had done and what she meant to do.
' I wish I had a garden like this at Muriel,' said Lothair.
' You could easily make one.'
* K you helped me.'
' I have told you all my plans,' said Lady Corisande.
' Yes ; but I was thinking of something else when you spoke,' said Lothair.
LOT HAIR.
433
BpiU
That b not very cOKplimentary.'
I do not wish to be complimentary,' said Lobhair, ' if twrnplimeiits mean less than they declare. I w&b sot thinkiiig of your garden, but of yoa.'
' Where can they have all gone ? ' aaid I^dy Corisande, looking round. ' We nmet lind them.'
' And Icavo thia garden ? ' said Lothair. ' And I without a flower, the onJy one without a flower? I un afraid that is EJgni&cant of my lot.'
' I'oa shall choose a rose,' eaid Lady Corisande,
' Nay [ the charm is that it should be yoar choioe,'
But choosing the rose lost more time, and when Cori- B&nde and Lothair rtt;u:hed the arches of golden yew, there were tto friends in sight.
' I think I hear soonds thia way,' said Lothair, and he led his companion farther from home,
' I see no one,' said Lady Corisande, distresacd, and when they hod adranced a little way.
' We are anre to find them in good time,' said Iiotbair. 'Besidea, I wanted to speak to yon about the garden at Muriel. I wanted to induce yon to go there and help ra& to make it. Tea,' he added, after some hesitation, ' on this spot, I believe on this very spot, I asked the permission of your mother two years ago to express to you my love. She thought mo a boy, and she treated mo as a boy. She said 1 knew nothing of the world, and both our characters were unformed. I know the world now. I have committed many mistakes, doubtless many follies, hare formed many opinions, and have changed many opinions ; but to one I have been constant, in one I am unchanged, and that is my adoring love for you.'
She turned pale, she Rtopped, then gently taking bin urm, eho hid her face in his breast.
He soothed and sustained her agitated frame, and sealed embrace her apeccbless form. Then, with aoft
484 LOTH AIR.
thonghta and softer wordB, clinging to him he indnced her to resume their stroll, which hoth of them now wished might assuredly be undisturbed. They had arrived at the limit of the pleasure-grounds, and they wandered into the park and into its most sequestered parts. All this time Lothair spoke much, and gave her the history of his life since he first visited her home. Lady Gorisande said little, but when she was more composed, she told him that from the first hor heart had been his, but eveiything seemed to go against her hopes. Perhaps at last, to please her parents, she would have married the Duke of Brecon, had not Lothair returned ; and what he had said to her that morning at Grecy House had decided her resolution, what- ever might be her lot, to unite it to no one else but him. But then came the adventure of the crucifix, and she thought all was over for her, and she quitted to?m in despair.
• Let us rest here for a while,' said Lothair, * under the shade of this oak ;' and Lady Gorisande reclined against its mighty trunk, and Lothair threw himself at her feet. He had a great deal still to tell her, and among other things, the story of the pearls, which he had wished to give to Theodora.
'She was, after all, your good genius,* said Lady Gorisande. * 1 always liked her.'
*Well now,' said Lothair, Hhat case has never been opened. The year has elapsed, but I would not open it, for I had always a wild wish that the person who opened it should be yourself. See, here it is.' And he gave her the case.
'We will not break the seal,' said Lady Gorisande. * Let us respect it for her sake : Boma ! ' she said, ex- amining it ; and then they opened the case. There was the slip of paper which Theodora at the time had placed
LOTH AIR. 4S5
apon the pearls, and on wliich she bad written some anseen words. They were read now, and ran thus :
*Thb Offebiko of Theodora to Lothaib's Bbide.*
' Let me place them on you now/ said Lothair.
' I will wear them as your chains/ said Corisande.
The sun began to tell them that some hours had elapsed since thej quitted Brentham House. At last a sofl hand which Lothair retained, gave him a slight pressure, and a sweet voice whispered, ' Dearest, I think we ought to return.'
And they returned almost in silence. They rather cal- culated that, taking advantage of the luncheon-hour, Cori- sande might escape to her room ; but they were a little too late. Luncheon was over, and they met the Duchess and a large party on the terrace.
* What has become of you, my good people ? * said her Grace ; * bells have been ringing for you in every direction. Where can you have been ! '
' I have been in Corisande's garden,' said Lothair, ^ and she has given me a rose.'
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