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Hiotographic 

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empreinte. 

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et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


irrata 
to 


pelure, 
n  d 


H' 


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32X 


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6 

^ 


E  JSr  D  YMI  O  ]^. 


"  Quicquld  arjuRt  hom'mesP 


By  the  Right  Honorable 
THE   EARL   OF   BEACONSFIELD,  K.  G. 

AUTHOR  OF   "lOTHAIR,"    ETC.,    ETC. 


MONTREAL 
DAWSON  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS, 

1880. 


7    "? 


535-^ 


e  ^'^ 


158272 


Ejitered  according  to  Act  of  Parliament  of  Canada,  in  the  year  1880,  by 
LoNOXAKS,  Gbseh  &  Co.,  in  the  office  of  the  Minlstor  of  ^Ngriculture. 


rRI.NTED  BY  THE  GAZETTE  PRINTIXO  COMPASY,  MONTREAL. 


,  »;1 


ENDYMIOX. 


CIIAPTEIl  I. 


'  1880,  by 
Lilture. 


It  was  a  ricli,  warm  night  at  the  bogi lining  of  August,  wlieii 
a  gentleman  enveloped  in  a  cloak,  for  he  was  in  evening  dress, 
emerged  from  a  club-house  at  the  top  of  St.  James'  Street,  and 
<lc>ccnded  that  celebrated  eminence.  He  had  not  proceeded 
more  than  half-way  down  the  street  when,  encountering  a 
friend,  he  stopped  with  some  abruptness. 

"I  have  been  looking  for  you  everywhere,"  he  said. 

'■'What  is  it?" 

•' We  can  hardly  talk  about  it  here." 


''Shall  we  go  to  White's?" 


"  I  have  just  left  it,  and,  between  ourselves,  I  would  rather 
we  should  be  more  alone.     'Tis  as  warm  as  noon.     Let  us  cross 
the  street  and  get  into  St.  James' Place.     That  is  always  my  -^ 
idea  of  solitude." 

So  they  crossed  the  street,  and,  at  the  corner  of  St.  James'  S 
Place,  met  several  gentlemen  who  had  just  come  out  of  Brookes 
Club-house.     These  saluted  the  companions  as  they  passed,  and 
said,  "  Capital  account  from  Chiswick — Lord  Howard  says  the 
chief  will  be  in  Downing  Street  on  Monday." 

*'It  is  of  Chiswick  that  I  am  going  to  speak  to  you,"  said 
the  gentleman  in  the  cloak,  putting  his  arm  in  that  of  his  com- 
panion as  they  walked  on.  '*  What  I  am  about  to  tell  you  is 
known  only  to  three  persons,  and  is  the  most  sacred  of  secrets. 
Nothing  but  our  friendship  could  authorize  me  to  impart  it  to 

}0U." 


EKD  YMIOX. 


[t 


*'  I  hope  it  is  something  to  your  atlvuutage/'  said  hid  coni- 
piiiiion. 

"  Nothing  of  that  sort ;  it  is  of  yourself  that  I  am  thinking. 
Since  our  political  estrangement,  I  have  never  had  a  contented 
moment.  From  Christ  Cliurch,  until  that  unhappy  i)aralytic 
stroke,  which  broke  up  a  government,  that  had  lasted  lil'teen 
years,  and  might  have  continued  lifteen  more,  we  seemed  always 
to  have  been  working  together.  That  "we  should  again  unite 
is  my  dearest  wish.  A  crisis  is  at  hand.  I  want  you  to  use  it 
to  your  advantage.  Know  then,  that  what  they  were  just  say- 
ing about  Chiswick  is  moons^hine.  llis  case  is  hopeless,  and  it 
has  been  communicated  to  tlic  King." 

''Hopeless!" 

"Rely  upon  it;  it  came  direct  from  the  Cottage  to  my 
friend." 

"I  thought  he  had  a  mission  ?"  said  his  companion,  with 
emotion  ;  "and  men  with  missions  do  not  disai)pcar  till  they 
liavc  fulfdled  them." 

"  But  why  did  you  think  so  ?  How  often  have  I  asked  you 
for  your  grounds  for  such  a  conviction  !  Th.erc  are  none.  The 
man  of  the  age  is  clearly  the  Duke,  the  savior  of  Europe,  in 
the  perfection  of  manhood,  and  v/ith  an  iron  constitution." 

"The  salvation  of  Euro])e  is  the  affair  of  a  past  genera- 
tion," said  his  companion.  "Wo  want  something  else  now. 
The  salvation  of  England  .-liould  be  the  subject  rather  of  our 
present  thoughts." 

"England  !  why  when  were  things  more  sound?  Except 
the  split  among  our  own  men,  which  will  be  now  cured,  there 
is  not  a  cause  of  disquietude." 

"I  have  much,"  said  his  friend. 

"  You  never  used  to  have  any,  Sidney.  What  extraordinary 
revelations  can  have  been  made  to  you  during  three  months  of 
office  under  a  semi-Whig  Ministry  ?  " 

"  Your  taunt  is  fair,  though  it  pains  me.  And  I  confess  to 
3'ou  that  when  I  resolved  to  follow  Cannni;,  and  join  his  new 
allies,  I  had  many  a  twinge.  I  was  bred  in  the  Tory  camp  ; 
the  Tories  put  me  in  Parliament  and  gave  me  office  ;  I  lived 
with  them  and  liked  them  ;  Ave  dined  and  voted  together,  and 


i 


AX  OLD   ('OXrnOVlJR^Y. 


togctlier  pas([uiiKi(li'(l  our  opiJonents.  And  yet,  after  f'astlo- 
rcagir.s  death,  to  whom  like  yourself  I  was  nuich  attached,  I 
had  great  misgivings  as  to  the  position  of  our  party,  and  tl>o 
future  of  tlic  country.  I  tried  to  drive  them  from  my  mind, 
and  at  last  took  refuge  in  Canning,  wlio  seemed  just  the  man 
a])i)ointcd  for  an  age  of  transition.*' 

"But  a  transition  to  wliat  ?" 

"Well,  his  foreign  jjolicy  was  Liberal." 

^•Tlic  same  as  the  Duke's  ;  the  same  as  poor  dear  Castle- 
rcagh's.  Nothing  more  unjust  than  the  alTectcd  belief  that 
there  was  any  difference  between  them — a  ruse  of  the  AVliigs  to 
foster  discord  in  our  ranks.  And  as  for  domestic  affairs,  no 
one  is  stouter  against  Parliamentary  Reform,  while  he  is  for 
tlie  Church  and  no  surrender,  though  he  may  make  a  harmless 
speech  now  and  then,  as  many  of  us  do,  in  favo'"  of  the  Catho- 
lic claims." 

"Well,  we  will  not  now  pursue  this  old  controversy,  my 
dear  Ferrars,  i)articularly  if  it  be  true,  as  you  say,  that  ^Ir. 
Canning  now  lies  upon  his  deathbed." 

"  If  !    I  tell  you  at  this  very  moment  it  may  be  all  over." 

*'  I  am  SiUiken  to  my  very  center." 

"  It  is  doubtless  a  great  blow  to  you,"  rejoined  Mr.  Ferrars, 
"and  I  wish  to  alleviate  it.  That  is  why  I  was  looking  for 
you.  The  King  will,  of  course,  send  for  the  Duke,  but  I  can 
tell  you  there  Avill  be  a  disi)Osition  to  draw  back  our  friends 
that  left  us,  at  least  the  younger  ones  of  promise.  If  you  arc 
awake,  there  is  no  reason  why  you  should  not  retain  your 
office."  ♦ 

"I  am  not  so  sure  the  King  will  send  for  the  Duke." 

"It  is  certain." 

"  Well,"  said  his  companion  musingly,  ''it  maybe  fancy, 
but  I  can  not  resist  the  feeling  that  this  country,  and  the 
world  generalh',  are  on  the  eve  of  a  great  change — and  I  do 
not  think  the  Duke  is  the  man  for  the  epoch." 

*'  I  see  no  reason  why  there  should  be  any  great  change  ; 
certainly  not  in  this  country,"  said  Mr.  Ferrars.  "Here  we 
have  changed  everything  that  was  required.  Peel  has  settled 
the  criminal  law,  and  Iluskisson  the  currency,  and  though  I  am. 


i 


f; 


KXDYMION. 


prepared  myself  still  furllier  to  reduce  the  duties  on  forei/^i 
import:^,  no  one  ciin  deny  tliiit  on  tlii.s  subject  the  Government 
is  in  advance  of  jjultiic  opinion." 

"The  whole  alTair  rests  on  too  contracted  a  basis/'  said  his 
comi)anion.  "  We  are  habituated  to  its  exclusiveness,  and,  no 
doubt,  custom  in  England  is  a  power  ;  but  let  some  event  sud- 
denly occur  which  makes  a  nation  feel  or  think,  and  the  whole 
thing  might  vanish  like  a  dream." 

"  What  can  happen  ?  fSuch  affairs  as  the  Luddites  do  not 
occur  twice  in  a  ceiitury,  and  as  for  Spafields  riots,  they  arc 
impossible  now  witli  iVel's  new  police.  The  country  is  em- 
ployed and  prosperous,  and  were  it  not  so,  the  landed  interest 
would  always  kee])  tilings  straight." 

*'  It  is  powerful,  and  has  been  powerful  for  a  long  time ; 
but  there  are  other  interests  besides  the  landed  interest  now." 

'*  Well,  there  is  the  colonial  interest,  and  the  shipping 
interest,"  said  ^[r.  Ferrars,  ''and  both  of  them  thoroughly 
with  us." 

''I  was  not  thinking  of  them,"  said  his  companion.  ''It 
is  the  increase  of  poinilation,  and  of  a  population  not  emi)loyed 
in  the  cultivation  of  the  soil,  and  all  the  consequences  of  such 
circumstances,  that  were  passing  over  my  mind." 

"Don't  you  be  too  doctrinaire,  my  dear  Sidney;  you  and 
I  arc  practical  men.  AVe  must  deal  with  the  existing,  the 
urgent ;  and  there  is  nothing  more  i)ressing  at  this  moment 
than  the  formation  of  a  new  government.  What  I  want  is  to 
see  you  a  member  of  it. " 

•    "All  !"  said  his  companion,  with  a  sigh,  "do  you  really 
think  it  so  near  as  that  ?  " 

"Why,  what  have  wc  been  talking  of  all  this  time,  my  dear 
Sidney  ?  Clear  your  head  of  all  doubt,  and,  if  possible,  of  all 
regrets  ;  wc  must  deal  with  facts,  and  wc  must  deal  with  them 
to-morrow ." 

"  I  still  think  he  had  a  mission,"  said  Sidney,  with  a  sigh, 
"  if  it  were  only  to  bring  hope  to  a  people." 

"Well,  I  do  not  see  how  he  could  have  done  anything 
more,"  said  Mr.  Ferrars,  "nor  do  I  believe  his  government 
would  have  lasted  during  the  session.     However,  I  must  now 


^ 


ZEXOBTA. 


any  good  night,  for  I  must  look  in  at  tlie  Squiiro.     Think  well 
of  what  I  have  said,  and  let  me  hear  from  you  as  soon  as  you 


can. 


5J 


CHAPTER  II. 


5» 


,  ''It 

l)loycd 
such 


sigli, 

thing 

Imcnt 

now 


Zexouia  was  the  queen  of  London,  of  fasliion,  and  of  tlie 
Tory  party.  Wlien  she  was  not  holding  high  festivals,  or  at- 
tending tlicm,  she  was  always  at  home  to  her  intimate.-^,  and 
as  she  deigned  hut  rarely  to  honor  the  assemblies  of  others 
with  her  presence,  she  was  generally  at  her  evening  post  to 
receive  the  initiated.  To  be  her  uninvited  guest  under  such 
circumstances  proved  at  once  that  you  had  entered  the  highej^t 
circle  of  the  social  Paradise. 

Zenobia  was  leaning  back  on  a  brilliant  sofa,  supported  by 
many  cushions,  and  a  great  personage,  gray-headed  and  blue- 
ribboned,  who  was  permitted  to  share  the  honors  of  tlic  high 
place,  Avas  hanging  on  her  animated  and  inspiring  accents. 
An  ambassador,  in  an  armed  chair  which  he  had  placed  some- 
what before  her,  while  he  listened  with  apparent  devotion  to 
the  oracle,  now  and  then  interposed  a  remark,  polished  and 
occa.-ionally  cynical.  More  remote,  some  dames  of  high  de- 
gree Avere  surrounded  bv  a  chosen  band  of  rank  and  fasliion 
and  celebrity  ;  and  now  and  then  was  heard  a  silver  laugh, 
and  now  and  then  was  breathed  a  gentle  sigh.  Servants  glided 
about  the  suite  of  summer  chambers  occasionallv  Avitli  sherbets 
and  ices,  and  sometimes  a  lady  entered  and  saluted  Zenobia, 
and  then  retreated  to  the  general  group,  and  sometimes  a  gen- 
tleman entered  and  pressed  the  hand  of  Zenobia  to  his  lips, 
and  then  vanished  into  air. 

*'  "What  I  want  you  to  see,"  said  Zenobia,  '•'  is  that  reaction 
is  the  laAV  of  life,  and  that  wc  are  on  the  eve  of  a  great  reac- 
tion. Since  Lord  Castlereagh's  death  we  have  had  five  years 
of  revolution — nothing  but  change,  and  every  change  has  been 
disastrous.  Abroad  we  are  in  league  with  all  the  conspirators 
of  the  Continent,  and  if  there  were  a  general  war,  wc  should 


■tHi 


8 


EXUVMIOy. 


V' 


iKjf  have  ail  ally  ;  at  lioine  our  trade,  I  am  told,  is  quite  ruined, 
iind  we  are  deluj^ed  witli  foreign  articles  ;  while,  thanks  to 
Mr.  Ilu.skis.son,  the  country  hanks,  which  cnahled  Mr.  Pitt  to 
carry  on  the  war,  and  saved  England,  arc  all  hrokcn.  There 
was  one  thing  of  which  I  thought  we  should  always  be  proud, 
and  that  was  our  laws  and  their  administration  ;  hut  now  our 
most  sacred  enactments  are  questioned,  and  i)eoi)le  are  told  to 
call  out  for  the  reform  of  our  courts  of  judicature,  which  used 
to  ho  the  glory  of  the  land.  This  can  not  last.  I  see,  indeed, 
many  signs  of  national  disgust  ;  i)C0})lc  would  have  borne  a 
great  deal  from  poor  Lord  Liverpool,  for  they  knew  he  was  a 
good  man,  though  I  always  thought  a  weak  one  ;  but  when  it 
was  found  that  this  boasted  Liberalism  only  meant  letting  the 
Whigs  into  ofllce,  Avho,  if  they  had  alv.ays  been  in  oflice,  would 
have  made  us  the  slaves  of  Bonaparte,  their  eyes  were  opened. 
Depend  upon  it,  the  reaction  has  commenced." 

**  We  shall  have  some  trouble  with  France,"  .-^aid  the  am- 
bassador, "  unless  there  is  a  change  here." 

''The  Church  is  weary  of  the  present  men,"  said  the  great 
personage.     "No  one  really  knows  what  they  are  iifter." 

"And  how  can  the  country  be  governed  without  the 
Church  ?"  exclaimed  Zenobia.  "If  the  country  once  thinks 
the  Church  is  in  danger,  the  affair  will  soon  be  linished.  The 
King  ought  to  be  told  what  is  going  on." 

"Nothing  is  going  on,"  said  the  ambassador  ;  "but  every- 
body is  afraid  of  something." 

"The  King's  friends  should  impress  upon  him  never  to  lose 
sight  of  the  landed  interest,"  said  the  great  personage. 

"  How  can  any  government  go  on  without  the  support  of 
the  Church  and  the  land  ?"  exclaimed  Zenobia.  "It  is  quite 
unnatural." 

"That  is  the  mystery,"  remarked  the  ambassador.  "  Here 
is  a  government,  supported  by  none  of  the  influences  hitherto 
deemed  indispensable,  and  yet  it  exists." 

"The  newspapers  support  it,"  said  the  great  personage; 
""and  the  Dissenters,  who  are  trying  to  bring  themselves  into 
notice,  and  who  are  said  to  have  some  influence  in  the  north- 
ern counties,  and  the  Whigs,  who  are  in  a  hole,  are  willing  to 


J//?.    /TAV.M  A'.v. 


9 


seize  the  linntl  of  the  ministry  i'>  lu-lp  them  out  of  it;  and 
tlu'H  tlicrc  is  always  a  number  of  i>eo])li'  who  will  sujiport  any 
government — and  so  the  tiling  work!-." 

"  Tliey  have  got  a  new  name  fortius  hybrid  sentiment," 
paid  the  ambassador.     "They  call  it  public  oi)inion.'' 

"  iTow  very  absurd  I '' said  Zi'nol)ia  ;  "a  mere  nickname. 
As  if  there  could  be  any  o])ini(>n  but  that  of  the  Sovereign  and 
the  two  Houses  of  Parliament." 

"  They  arc  trying  to  introduce  here  the  continental  Liber- 
alism," said  the  great  pcrsoiuige.  ''Now  we  know  what  Lib- 
eralism means  on  the  continent.  It  means  the  abolition  of 
])roperty  and  religion.  Those  ideas  would  not  suit  this  coun- 
try ;  and  I  often  puzzle  myself  to  foresee  how  they  will  at- 
temi)t  to  apply  Liberal  opinions  here." 

"I  shall  always  think,"  said  Zenobia,  ''that  Lord  Liver- 
pool went  much  too  far,  though  \  never  said  so  in  his  time  ; 
for  I  always  uphold  my  friends.'' 

''Well,  we  shall  sec  what  Canning  will  do  about  the  Test 
and  Corporation  Acts,"  said  the  great  personage.  "I  under- 
stand they  mean  to  push  him." 

"By  the  by,  how  is  he  really?"  said  the  ambassador. 
*'  What  are  the  accounts  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"  Here  is  a  gentleman  who  will  tell  us,"  said  Zenobia,  as 
;Mr.  Ferrars  entered  and  saluted  her. 

"  And  what  is  your  news  from  Chiswick  ?"  she  inquired. 
"  They  say  at  Brookes',  that  he  will  be  at  Downing  Street 
on  Monday." 

"  I  doubt  it,"  said  Zenobia,  but  with  an  expression  of  dis- 
appointment. 

Zenobia  invited  Mr.  Ferrars  to  join  her  immediate  circle. 
The  great  personage  and  the  ambassador  were  confidentially 
affable  to  one  whom  Zenobia  so  distinguished.  Their  conver- 
sation was  in  hushed  tones,  as  become  the  initiated.  Even 
Zenobia  seemed  subdued,  and  listened ;  and  to  listen,  among 
her  many  talents,  was  perhaps  her  rarest.  Mr.  Ferrars  was 
one  of  her  favorites,  and  Zenobia  liked  3'oung  men  who  she 
thought  would  become  ministers  of  State. 

An  Hungarian  Princess  who  had  quitted  the  opera  early 


!3=B 


io 


EXDYMION. 


iilli 


that  she  might  look  in  at  Zcnohia's  was  now  announced.  The 
arrival  of  this  preat  lady  made  a  stir.  Zcnobia  embraced  her, 
and  the  great  parsonage  with  affectionate  homage  yielded  to 
her  instantly  the  place  of  honor,  and  then  soon  retreated  to 
the  laughing  voices  in  the  distance  that  had  already  more  than 
once  attracted  and  charmed  his  ear. 

'*  Mind  ;  I  see  you  to-morrow,"  said  Zenobia  to  Mr.  Ferrars 
as  he  also  withdrew.     '*  1  sliall  have  something  to  tell  you."' 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  father  of  Mr.  Ferrars  had  the  reputation  of  being  the 
son  of  a  once  somewhat  celebrated  statesman,  but  the  only 
patrimony  he  inherited  from  his  presumed  parent  was  a  clerk- 
ship in  the  Treasury,  Avhere  he  found  himself  drudging  at  an 
early  age.  Nature  had  endowed  him  with  considerable  abili- 
ties, and  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  scene  of  their  display.  It 
was  difficult  to  decide  which  was  most  remarkable,  his  shrewd- 
ness or  his  capacity  of  labor.  His  quickness  of  perception  and 
mastery  of  detrils  made  him  in  a  few  years  an  authority  in  the 
office,  and  a  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  who  was  quite  ignorant 
of  details,  but  who  was  a  good  judge  of  human  character,  had 
the  sense  to  appoint  Ferrars  his  private  secretary.  This  happy 
preferment  in  time  opened  the  whole  official  world  to  one  not 
only  singularly  qualified  for  that  kind  of  life,  but  Avho  pos- 
sessed the  peculiar  gifts  that  were  then  commencing  to  be 
much  in  demand  in  those  circles.  We  were  then  entering  that 
era  of  commercial  and  financial  reform  "which  had  been,  if  not 
absolutely  occasioned,  certainly  preciintated,  by  the  revolt  of 
our  colonies.  Knowledge  of  finance  and  acquaintance  with 
tariffs  were  then  rare  gifts,  and  before  five  years  of  his  private 
secretaryship  had  expired,  Ferrars  was  mentioned  to  Mr.  Pitt 
as  the  man  at  the  Treasury  who  could  do  something  that  the 
great  minister  required.  This  decided  his  lot.  Mr.  Fltt  found 
in  Ferrars  the  instrument  he  wanted,  and  appreciating  all  his 


COLLEGE  DA  YS. 


11 


.  The 
!ed  her, 
Idccl  to 
atcd  to 
I'e  than 

Ferrars 
ou."' 


sing  the 
he  only 
a  clcrk- 
n^  at  an 
lie  abili- 
lay.     It 
shrewd- 
ion  and 
in  the 
gnorant 
er,  had 
happy 
one  not 
10  pos- 
to  be 
ng  that 
if  not 
jvolt  of 
3e  with 
private 
[r.  Pitt 
hat  the 
found 
all  his 


qualities  placed  him  in  a  position  -which  allonled  them  full 
play.    The  minister  returned  Ferrars  to  Parliament,  for  the 
Treasury  then  had  boroughs  of  its  own,  and  the  new  lUicmber 
was  preferred  to  an  imi)ortant  and  laborious  post.     So  long  as 
Pitt  and  CJrcnvillc  were  in  the  ascendant,  Mr.  Ferrars  toiled  and 
flouri-shed.     lie  was  exactly  the  man  they  liked  ;  unwearied, 
vigilant,  clear  and  cold  ;  with  a  dash  of  natural  sarcasm  devel- 
oped by  a  sharp  and  varied  experience.     He  disappeared  from 
the  active  world  in  the  latter  years  of  the  Liverpool  rjign, 
when  a  newer  generation  and  more  bustling  ideas  successfully 
asserted  their  claims  ;  but  he  retired  with  the  solace  of  a  sine- 
cure, a  pension,  and  a  privy-councilorship.     The  Cabinet  he 
liad  never  entered,  nor  dared  to  hope  to  enter.     It  was  the 
privilege  of  an  inner  circle  even  in  our  then  contracted  public 
life.     I^  was  the  dream  of  Ferrars  to  revenge  in  this  respect 
his  fate  in  the  person  of  his  son,  and  only  child.     He  was  re- 
solved that  his  offspring  should  enjoy  all  those  advantages  of 
education  and  breeding  and  society  of  which  he  himself  had 
been  deprived.     For  him  was  to  be  reserved  a  full  initiation  in 
those  costly  ceremonies  wliich,  under  the  names  of  Eton  and 
Cliristchurch,  in  his  time  fascinated  and  dazzled  mankind. 
His  son,  William  Pitt  Ferrars,  realized  even  more  than  his 
fatlier's  hopes.     Extremely  good-looking,  he  was  gifted  with  a 
precocity  of  talent.     He  was  the  marvel  of  Eton  and  the  hope 
of  Oxford.    As  a  boy,  his  Latin  verses  threw  enraptured  tutors 
into  paroxysms  of  praise,  while  debating  societies  hailed  with 
acclamation  clearly  another  heaven-born  minister.     He  went 
up  to  Oxford  about  the  time  that  the  examinations  were  re- 
formed and  rendered  really  efficient.     This  only  increased  his 
renown,  for  the  name  of  Ferrars  figured  among  the  earliest 
double-firsts.     Those  were  days  when  a  crack  university  repu- 
tation often  Oldened  the  doors  of  the  House  of  Commons  to  a 
young  aspirant ;  at  least,  after  a  season.     But  Ferrars  had  not 
to  wait.     His  favher,  who  watched  his  career  with  the  passion- 
ate interest  with  which  a  Newmarket  man  watches  the  develop- 
ment of  some  gifted  yearling,  took  care  that  all  the  odds  should 
be  in  his  favor  in  the  race  of  life.     An  old  colleague  of  the 
elder  Mr.  Ferrars,  a  worthy  peer  with  many  boroughs,  placed 


12 


EXDYMIOX. 


I 


11 


n  seat  at  tlic  disposal  of  the  youtliful  hero,  the  moment  ho  was 
prepared  to  accept  it,  and  he  might  be  said  to  have  left  the 
University  only  to  enter  the  House  of  Commons. 

There,  if  his  career  had  not  yet  realized  the  dreams  of  his 
youthful  admirers,  it  had  at  least  been  one  of  progress  and 
iin])roken  prosperity.  His  first  speech  was  successful,  though 
florid,  but  it  was  on  foreign  affairs,  which  permit  rhetoric,  and 
in  tliose  days  demanded  at  least  one  Virgilian  quotation.  In 
tliis  latter  brancli  of  oratorical  adornment  Ferrars  was  never 
deficient.  Xo  young  man  of  tliat  time,  and  scarcely  any  old 
one,  ventured  to  address  Mr.  Speaker  without  being  equipped 
witii  a  Latin  passage.  Ferrars,  in  this  respect,  was  triply 
armed.  Indeed,  when  he  entered  public  life,  full  of  hope  and 
})romise,  though  disciplined  to  a  certain  extent  by  his  mathe- 
matical training,  he  had  read  very  little  more  than  some  Latin 
writers,  some  Greek  plays,  and  some  treatises  of  Aristotle. 
These  with  a  due  course  of  Bampton  Lectures  and  some  dip- 
ping into  the  "'Quarterly  Review,"  then  in  its  prime,  qualified 
a  man  in  those  days,  not  only  for  being  a  member  of  Parlia- 
ment, but  becoming  a  candidate  for  the  responsibility  of 
statesmanship.  Ferrars  made  his  way ;  for  two  years  he  was 
occasionally  asked  by  the  minister  to  speak,  and  then  Lord 
Castlereagh,  who  liked  young  men,  made  him  a  Lord  of  the 
Treasni}.  He  was  Under-Secretary  of  Si^ate,  and  *'very  ris- 
ing," when  the  death  of  Lord  Liverpool  brought  about  the 
severance  of  the  Tory  party,  and  Mr.  Ferrars,  mainly  under 
the  advice  of  Zenobia,  resigned  his  office  when  Mr.  Canning 
was  appointed  Minister,  and  cast  in  iiis  lot  with  the  great  des- 
tiny of  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 

The  elder  Ferrars  had  the  reputation  of  being  wealthy.  It 
was  supposed  that  he  had  enjoyed  opportunities  of  making 
money,  and  had  availed  himself  of  them,  but  this  was  not  true. 
Though  a  cynic,  and  with  little  respect  for  his  fellow  crea- 
tures, Ferrars  had  a  pride  in  official  purity,  and  when  the  Gov- 
ernment was  charged  with  venality  and  corruption,  he  would 
observe,  with  a  dry  chuckle,  that  he  had  seen  a  great  deal  of 
life,  and  that  for  his  part  he  would  not  much  trust  any  man 
out  of  Downing  Street.     He  had  been  unable  to  resist  the 


2IISS  CAREY. 


n 


'J- 


crea- 
e  Gov- 
woultl 
eal  of 


temptation  of  connecting  liis  life  with  that  of  an  individual  of 
birtii  and  rank  ;  and  in  a  weak  moment,  perhaps  his  only  one, 
he  had  given  liis  son  a  step-mother  in  a  still  good-looking  an. I 
vorv  expensive  Viscountess  Dowager. 

Mr.  Ferrars  was  anxious  that  his  son  should  make  a  great 
alliance,  but  he  was  so  distracted  between  prudential  considera- 
tions and  his  desire  that  in  the  veins  of  his  grandchildren  there 
should  flow  blood  of  undoubted  nobility,  that  he  could  never 
bring  to  his  purpose  that  clear  and  concentrated  will  which 
was  one  of  the  causes  of  his  success  in  life  ;  and,  in  tlie  midst 
of  his  perplexities,  his  son  unexpectedly  sott^led  the  question 
himself.  Though  naturally  cold  and  calculating,  AVilliam  Fer- 
rars, like  most  of  us,  had  a  vein  of  romance  in  his  being,  and 
it  asserted  itself.  There  was  a  Miss  Carey,  who  suddenly  be- 
came the  beauty  of  the  season.  She  was  an  orphan,  and  re- 
puted to  be  no  inconsiderable  heiress,  and  was  introduced  to  tlie 
world  by  an  aunt  who  was  a  duchess,  and  who  meant  that  her 
niece  should  be  the  same.  Everybody  talked  about  them,  and 
they  went  everywhere — among  other  places  to  the  House  of 
Commons,  where  Miss  Carey,  spying  the  senators  from  the  old 
ventilator  in  the  ceiling  of  St.  Stephen's  Chapel,  dropped  in 
her  excitement  her  opera-glass,  which  fell  at  the  feet  of  Mr. 
Under-Secretary  Ferrars.  He  hr^stoncd  to  restore  it  to  its 
beautiful  owner,  whom  iic  found  accompanied  by  several  of  his 
friends,  and  he  wms  not  only  thanked,  but  invited  to  remain 
with  them ;  and  the  next  day  he  called,  and  he  called  very 
often  afterward,  and  mauv  other  things  happened,  and  at  the 
end  of  July,  the  beauty  of  the  season  was  married  not  to  a 
Duke,  but  to  a  rising  man,  who  Zenobia,  who  at  first  disapproved 
of  the  match — for  Zenobia  never  liked  her  male  friends  to 
marry — was  sure  would  one  day  be  Prime  Minister  of  England. 

Mrs.  Ferrars  was  of  the  same  opinion  as  Zenobia,  for  she 
was  ambitious,  and  the  dream  was  captivating.  And  Mrs. 
Ferrars  soon  gained  Zenobia's  good  graces,  for  she  had  many 
charms,  and,  though  ha";~:.'--  to  the  multitude,  was  a  first-rate 
ilatterer.  Zenobia  liked  flattery,  and  always  said  she  did.  Mr. 
Under-Secretary  Ferrars  took  a  mansion  in  Hill  Street,  and 
fvirnished  it  with  befitting  splendor.     His  dinners  Avere  cele- 


^J^ijiiT  ■     I  in 


14 


EXDYMIOX. 


Lratcd,  and  ^Irs.  Ferrars  gave  .suppers  after  tlic  opera.  The 
equipages  of  Mrs.  Ferrars  were  distinguished,  and  they  had  a 
large  retinue  of  servants.  They  had  only  tvro  children,  and 
they  were  twins,  a  brother  and  a  sister,  who  were  brought  up 
like  the  children  of  princes.  Partly  for  them,  and  partly  bo- 
cause  a  minister  should  have  a  Tusculum,  the  Ferrars  soon  en- 
gaged a  magnificent  villa  at  "Wimbledon,  which  had  the  advan- 
tage of  admirable  stables,  convenient,  as  Mrs.  Ferrars  was  fond 
of  horses,  and  liked  the  children  too,  with  their  fancy  ponies, 
to  bo  early  accustomed  to  riding.  All  this  occasioned  expendi- 
ture, but  old  Mr.  Ferrars  made  his  son  a  liberal  alloAvance,  and 
young  Mrs.  Ferrars  was  an  heiress,  or  the  world  thought  so, 
which  is  nearly  tlic  same,  and  then,  too,  young  Mr.  Ferrars 
was  a  rising  man,  in  otTice,  and  who  would  always  bo  in  office 
for  the  rest  of  his  life  ;  at  least,  Zenobia  said  so,  because  he  was 
on  the  right  side  and  t])c  Whigs  were  nowhere,  and  never  would 
be  anywhere,  whicli  Avas  quite  right,  as  they  had  wished  to  make 
us  the  slaves  of  Bonaparte. 

When  the  King,  after  much  hesitation,  sent  for  Mr.  Can- 
ning, on  the  resignation  of  Lord  Liverpool,  the  Zenobian  theory 
seemed  a  little  at  fault,  and  William  Ferrars  absolutely  out  of 
office  had  more  than  one  misgiving ;  but,  after  some  months 
of  doubt  and  anxiety,  it  seemed  after  all  the  great  lady  was 
right.  The  unexpected  disappearance  of  Mr.  Canning  from 
the  scene,  followed  by  the  transient  and  embarrassed  phantom 
of  Lord  Goderich,  seemed  to  indicate  an  inexorable  destiny 
that  England  should  be  ruled  by  the  most  eminent  man  of  the 
age,  and  the  most  illustrious  of  her  citizens.  William  Ferrars, 
under  the  inspiration  of  Zenobia,  had  throAvn  in  his  fortunes 
with  the  Duke,  and  after  nine  months  of  disquietude  found  his 
due  reward.  In  the  January  that  succeeded  the  August  con- 
versation in  St.  James'  Street  with  Sidney  Wilton,  William 
Ferrars  was  sworn  of  the  Privy  Council,  and  held  high  office, 
on  the  verge  of  the  Cabinet. 

Mr.  Ferrars  had  a  dinner  party  in  Hill  Street  on  the  day 
he  had  returned  from  Windsor  with  the  seals  of  his  new  office. 
The  catastrophe  of  the  Godciich  Cabinet,  almost  on  the  eve  of 
the  meeting  of  Parliament,  had  been  so  sudden  that,  not  an- 


SIDNEY  WILTOy. 


15 


.  The 
^  had  a 
Dii,  and 
ght  lip 
rtly  bo- 

0011  Cll- 

advaii- 
as  fond 
ponies, 
xpciidi- 
icc,  and 
ight  so, 
Ferrars 
in  office 
3  he  was 
!r  would 
to  make 

Ir.  Can- 

1  theory 

y  out  of 

months 

ady  was 

g  from 

lantom 

destiny 

of  the 

Ib'crrars, 

ortuncs 

und  his 

ist  con- 

\Yilliam 

1  office, 

he  day 
^  office. 
0  eve  of 
not  an- 


ticipating such  a  state  of  alTairs,  Ferrars,  among  his  otlicr 
guests,  had  invited  Sidney  Wilton.  lie  was  rather  regretting 
this  when,  as  his  carriage  st''v<ped  at  his  own  door,  he  observed 
that  very  gentleman  on  his  i..  reshold. 

"Wilton  greeted  him  warmly,  and  congratulated  him  on  his 
promotion.  ''I  do  so  at  once,"  he  added,  ''because  I  shall 
not  have  the  opportunity  this  evening.  I  was  calling  here  in 
the  hope  of  seeing  Mrs.  Ferrars,  and  asking  her  to  excuse  me 
from  being  3'our  guest  to-day." 

'•  Well,  it  is  rather  awkward,"  said  Ferrars,  "  but  I  could 
liave  no  idea  of  this  Avhen  you  were  so  ivind  as  to  say  you  would 


come 


;> 


'*  Oh,  nothing  of  that  sort,"  said  Sidney.  *'  I  am  out  and 
you  are  in,  and  I  hope  you  may  be  in  for  a  long,  long  time. 
I  dare  say  it  may  be  so,  and  the  Duke  is  the  man  of  the  age, 
as  you  always  said  he  was.  I  hope  your  being  in  office  is  not 
to  deprive  me  of  your  pleasant  dinners  ;  it  Avould  be  too  bad  to 
lose  my  place  both  at  Whitehall  and  in  Hill  Street." 

''I  trust  that  will  never  happen,  my  dear  fellow;  but  to- 
day I  thought  it  might  be  embarrassing." 

''Not  at  all;  I  could  endure  without  wincing  even  the 
triumphant  glance  of  Zenobia.  The  fact  is,  I  have  some  busi- 
ness of  the  most  pressing  nature  which  has  suddenly  arisen, 
and  which  demands  my  immediate  attention." 

Ferrars  expressed  his  regret,  though  in  fact  ho  was  greatly 
relieved,  and  they  parted. 

Zenobia  did  dine  with  the  William  Ferrars  to-day,  and  her 
handsome  husband  came  with  lier,  a  knight  of  the  garter,  and 
just  appointed  to  a  high  office  in  the  household  by  the  new 
government.  Even  the  excitement  of  the  hour  did  not  dis- 
turb his  indigenous  repose.  It  was  a  dignified  serenity,  quite 
natural,  and  quite  compatible  with  easy  and  even  cordial  man- 
ners, and  an  address  always  considerate  even  when  not  sym- 
pathetic. He  was  not  a  loud  or  a  long  talker,  but  his  terse 
remarks  were  full  of  taste  and  a  just  ai)preciation  of  things. 
If  they  were  sometimes  trenchant,  the  blade  was  of  fine  tem- 
per. Old  Mr.  Ferrars  was  there  and  the  Vicountess  Edgware. 
His  hair  had  become  quite  silvered,  and  his  cheek  rosy  as  a 


,i' 


16 


EXD  YMIOX, 


December  apple.  His  hazel  eyes  twinkled  with  satisfaction  as 
he  remembered  the  family  had  now  produced  two  jirivy  coun- 
cilors. Lord  Pomeroy  was  there,  the  great  lord  who  had  re- 
turned AVilliam  Ferrars  to  Parliament,  a  little  man,  quiet,  shy, 
rather  insignificant  in  appearance,  but  who  observed  everybody 
and  everything ;  a  conscientious  man,  who  was  always  doing 
good,  in  silence  and  secrecy,  and  denounced  as  a  boroughmon- 
ger,  had  never  sold  a  seat  in  his  life,  and  was  always  looking 
out  for  able  men  of  character  to  introduce  them  to  public 
aifairs.  It  was  not  a  formal  party,  but  had  grown  up  in  great 
degree  out  of  the  circumstances  of  the  moment.  There  were 
more  men  than  Avomen,  and  all  men  in  olhce  or  devoted  sujv 
portcrs  of  the  new  ministry. 

Mrs.  Ferrars,  without  being  a  regular  beauty,  had  a  volup- 
tuous face  and  form.  Her  complexion  was  brilliant,  with  large 
and  long-lashed  eyes  of  blue.  Iler  mouth  was  certainly  too 
large,  but  the  pouting  richness  of  her  lijis  and  the  splendor  of 
her  teeth  baffled  criticism.  She  was  a  woman  who  was  always 
gorgeously  or  fantastically  attired. 

"  I  never  can  understand,"  would  sometimes  observe  Zeno- 
bia's  husband  to  his  brilliant  spouse,  "how  affairs  are  carried 
on  in  this  world.  Now  we  have,  my  dear,  fifty  thousand  per 
annum ;  and  I  do  not  see  how  Ferrars  can  have  much  more 
than  five  ;  and  yet  he  lives  much  as  we  do,  perhaps  better.  I 
know  Gibson  showed  me  a  horse  last  week  that  I  very  much 
wanted,  but  I  would  not  give  him  two  hundred  guineas  for  it. 
I  called  there  to-day  to  look  after  it  again,  for  it  Avould  have 
suited  me  exactly,  but  I  was  told  I  was  too  lat<^  and  it  was  sold 
to  Mrs.  Ferrars." 

"  My  dear,  you  know  I  do  not  understand  money  matters," 
Zenobia  said  in  reply.  "  I  never  could  ;  but  you  should  re- 
member that  old  Ferrars  must  be  very  rich,  and  that  ''tYilliani 
Ferrars  is  the  most  rising  man  of  the  day,  and  is  sure  to  be  in 
the  cabinet  before  he  is  forty." 

Everybody  had  an  appetite  for  dinner  to-day,  and  the  din- 
ner was  worthy  of  the  appetites.  Zenobia's  husband  declared 
to  himself  that  he  never  dined  so  well,  though  he  gave  his  chef 
£500  a  year,  and  old  Lord  Pomeroy.  who  had  not  yet  admitted 


THE  TWINS. 


17 


French  wines  to  his  own  table,  seemed  quite  abashed  with  the 
number  of  his  wine-glasses  and  their  various  colors,  and,  as  ho 
tasted  one  succulent  dish  after  another,  felt  a  proud  satisfaction 
in  having  introduced  to  public  life  so  distinguished  a  man  as 
William  Ferrars. 

With  the  dessert,  not  without  some  ceremony,  were  intro- 
duced the  two  most  remarkable  guests  of  the  entertainment, 
and  these  were  the  twins  ;  children  of  singular  beauty,  and 
dressed,  if  possible,  more  fancifully  and  brilliantly  than  their 
iniimnia.  They  resembled  each  other,  and  liad  the  same  bril- 
liant complexions,  rich  chestnut  hair,  delicately  arched  brows, 
and  dark  blue  eyes.  Though  only  eight  years  of  age,  a  most 
unchildlike  self-possession  distinguished  tliem.  The  expression 
of  their  countenances  was  haughty,  disdainful,  and  supercilious. 
Their  beautiful  features  seemed  quite  ui. impassioned,  and  they 
moved  as  if  they  expected  everything  to  yield  to  them.  The 
girl,  whose  long  ringlets  were  braided  with  pearls,  was  ushered 
to  a  scat  next  to  her  father,  and,  like  her  brother,  who  was 
placed  by  Mrs.  Ferrars,  was  soon  engaged  in  negligently  tasting 
delicacies,  while  she  seemed  apparently  unconscious  of  any  one 
being  present,  except  when  she  replied  to  those  who  addressed 
her  with  a  stare  and  a  hau2;htv  monosvllable.  The  bov,  in  a 
black  velvet  jacket  with  large  Spanish  buttons  of  silver  filigree, 
a  shirt  of  lace,  and  a  waistcoat  of  white  satin,  re})Iied  with  re- 
servo,  but  some  condescension,  to  the  good-natured  but  half- 
liumorous  inquiries  of  the  husband  of  Zenobia. 

'*  And  when  do  you  go  to  school  ?"  asked  his  lordsliip,  in  a 
kind  voice  and  witii  a  laughing  eye. 

"I  shall  go  to  Eton  in  two  years,"  replied  the  child,  with- 
out the  slightest  emotion,  and  not  withdrawing  his  attention 
from  the  grapes  he  was  tasting,  or  even  looking  at  his  inquirer, 
''and  then  I  shall  go  to  Christchurch,  and  then  I  shall  go  into 
Parliament." 

'*Myra,"said  an  intimate  of  the  family,  a  handsome  pri- 
vate secretary  of  Mr.  Ferrars,  to  the  daughter  of  the  house,  as 
he  supplied  her  plate  with  some  choicest  delicacies,  '*Ihopo 
you  have  not  forgotten  your  engagement  to  me  which  you 
made  at  Wimbledon  two  years  ago  ?" 


I 


18 


ENDYMIOX. 


*'  Wliiit  engagement  ?  "  she  luiuglitily  inquired. 

'•  To  marry  me." 

*'  I  should  not  think  of  marrying  any  one  who  was  not  in 
tlic  House  of  Lords,"  she  replied,  and  she  shot  at  him  a  glance 
of  contempt. 

The  ladies  rose.  As  they  were  ascending  the  stairs,  one  of 
them  said  to  Mrs.  Ferrars,  '*  Your  son's  name  is  very  pretty, 
but  it  is  very  uncommon,  is  it  not  ?  " 

'"Tis  a  family  name.  The  first  Carey  who  bore  it  was  a 
courtier  of  Charles  the  First,  and  we  have  never  since  been 
without  it.  "William  wanted  our  boy  to  be  christened  Pomc- 
roy,  but  I  was  alwiiys  resolved,  if  I  ever  had  a  son,  that  ho 
should  be  named  Endymion." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

About  the  time  that  the  ladies  rose  from  the  dinner-table 
in  Hill  Street,  Mr.  Sidney  "Wilton  entered  the  hall  of  the  Clar- 
endon Hotel  and  murmured  an  inquiry  of  the  porter.  Where- 
upon a  bell  was  rung,  and  soon  a  foreign  servant  appeared,  and 
bowing  invited  Mr.  "Wilton  to  ascend  the  staircase  and  follow 
him.  Mr.  "Wilton  was  ushered  through  an  ante-chamber  into 
a  room  of  some  importance,  lofty  and  decorated,  and  obviously 
adapted  for  distinguished  guests.  On  a  principal  table  a  desk 
was  open  and  many  pajoers  strcAvn  about.  Apparently  some  per- 
son had  only  recently  been  writing  there.  There  were  in  the 
room  several  musical  instruments  :  the  piano  was  open,  there 
was  a  harp  and  a  guitar.  The  room  was  rather  dimly  lighted, 
but  cheerful  from  the  steady  lilaze  of  the  fire,  before  which  Mr. 
"Wilton  stood,  not  long  alone,  for  an  opposite  door  opened,  and 
a  lady  advanced  leading  with  her  left  hand  a  youth  of  interest- 
ing mien  and  about  twelve  years  of  age.  The  lady  Avas  fair 
and  singularly  thin.  It  seemed  that  her  delicate  hand  must 
really  be  transparent.  Her  cheek  was  sunk,  but  the  expres- 
sion of  her  large  brown  eyes  was  inexpressibly  pleasing.     She 


FLORESTAN. 


19 


,Vl, 


-tublo 
Clar- 
liere- 
and 
bllow 

cr  into 

iously 

desk 

lie  per- 

iii  the 
tlierc 

glited, 
liMr. 
[,  and 

tercst- 

s  fair 

must 

spres- 

Shc 


wore  her  own  hair,  once  tlie  most  celebrated  in  Europe,  and 
still  u!icovercd.  Tiiough  the  prodigal  richness  of  the  tresses 
had  disappeared,  the  arrangement  was  still  striking  from  its 
grace.  That  rare  cpiality  pervaded  tlie  being  of  this  lady,  and 
it  was  impossible  not  to  be  struck  with  her  carriage  as  she  ad- 
vanced to  greet  her  guest ;  free  from  all  affectation  and  yet 
full  of  movement  and  gestures,  Avhich  might  have  been  the 
study  of  painters. 

"Ah!"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  gave  him  her  hand,  which 
he  pressed  to  his  lips,  "you  arc  ever  faithful." 

Seating  themselves,  she  continued,  "You  have  not  seen  my 
boy  since  he  sat  upon  your  knee.  Florestan,  salute  Mr.  Wil- 
ton, vour  mother's  most  cherished  friend. " 

"'  This  is  a  sudden  arrival,"  said  Mr.  Wilton. 

"'"Well,  they  would  not  let  us  rest,"  said  the  lady.  "  Our 
only  refuge  was  Switzerland,  but  I  can  not  breathe  among  the 
mountains,  and  so,  after  a  while,  we  stole  to  an  obscure  corner 
of  the  south,  and  for  a  time  we  were  tranquil.  But  soon  the  old 
story  :  representations,  remonstrances,  warnings,  and  threats, 
appeals  to  Vienna,  and  lectures  from  Prince  Mctternich,  not  the 
lc.«s  impressive  because  they  were  courteous,  and  even  gallant." 

"  And  had  nothing  occurred  to  give  a  color  to  such  com- 
plaints, or  was  it  sheer  persecution  ?  " 

h*  Well,  you  know,"  replied  the  lady,  "  wo  wished  to  remain 
(piiet  and  obscure ;  but  where  the  lad  is,  they  will  find  him 
out.  It  often  astonishes  me.  I  believe  if  we  were  in  the  cen- 
ter of  a  forest  in  some  Indian  isle,  with  no  companions  but 
monkeys  and  elephants,  a  secret  agent  would  appear — some  de- 
voted victim  of  our  family — prepared  to  restore  our  fortunes 
and  renovate  his  own.  I  speak  the  truth  to  you  always.  I 
have  never  countenanced  these  people  ;  I  have  never  encour- 
aged them ;  but  it  is  impossible  rudely  to  reject  the  sympathy 
of  those  who,  after  all,  arc  your  fellow  sufferers,  and  some  of 
whom  have  given  proof  of  even  disinterested  devotion.  For 
my  own  part,  I  have  never  faltered  in  my  faith,  that  Florestan 
would  some  day  sit  on  the  throne  of  his  father,  dark  as  appears 
to  be  our  life  ;  but  I  have  never  much  believed  that  the  great 
result  could  be  occasioned  or  precipitated  by  intrigues,  but 


n 


I 


:ii 


20 


END  YM  FOX. 


rather  by  events  more  powerful  tlian  mini,  and  led  on  by  that 
fatality  in  whicli  his  father  ])elieved," 

"And  now  you  think  of  remaining  here  ?"  said  Mr.  Wil- 
ton. 

**  No,"  said  the  lady  ;  *'  that  I  can  not  do.  I  love  every- 
thing in  this  country  except  its  cliniate  and.  perhaps,  its  ho- 
tels. I  think  of  trying  the  south  of  Spain,  and  fancy,  if  quite 
alone,  I  might  vegetate  there  unnoticed.  I  C);n  not  bring  my- 
pelf  altogether  to  quit  Europe.  I  am,  my  der.r  Sidney,  intense- 
ly European.  But  Spain  is  not  exactly  the  country  I  should 
fix  upon  to  form  kings  and  statesmen.  And  this  is  the  point 
on  which  I  wi.slicd  to  consult  you.  I  want  Florestan  to  receive 
iin  English  education,  and  I  want  you  to  put  me  in  the  way  of 
accomplishing  this.  It  might  be  convenient,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, that  he  should  not  obtrude  liis  birth — perluips, 
that  it  should  be  concealed.  He  has  many  lionorable  names 
besides  the  one  which  indicates  the  state  to  which  he  was  born. 
But,  on  all  these  points,  we  want  your  advice."  And  she 
seemed  to  appeal  to  her  son,  who  bowed  his  head  with  a  sb'ght 
smile,  but  did  not  speak. 

i\[r.  Wilton  expressed  his  deep  interest  in  her  wishes,  and 
promised  to  consider  how  they  might  best  be  accomplished,  and 
then  the  conversation  took  a  more  general  tone. 

"  This  change  of  government  in  your  country,"  said  the 
lady,  *'  so  unexpected,  so  utterly  unforeseen,  disturbs  me  ;  in 
fact,  it  decided  my  hesitating  movements.  I  can  not  but  be- 
licA'c  that  the  accession  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  to  power 
must  be  bad,  at  least,  for  us.  It  is  essentially  reactionar}-. 
They  arc  triumphing  at  Vienna." 

"Have  they  cause  ?"  said  Mr.  Wilton.  *'Iam  an  impar- 
tial witness,  for  I  have  no  post  in  the  new  administration  ;  but 
the  leading  colleagues  of  Mr.  Canning  form  part  of  it,  and  the 
conduct  of  foreign  afiviirs  remains  in  the  same  hands." 

"That  is  consoling,"  said  the  lady.  "I  wonder  if  Lord 
Dudley  would  see  me.  Perhaps  not.  Ministers  do  not  love 
pretenders.  I  knew  him  when  I  was  not  a  pretender,"  added 
the  lady,  with  the  sweetest  of  smiles,  "  and  thought  him  agree- 
able,    lie  was  witty.     Ah  !  Sidney,  those  were  happy  days.     I 


^1 
I. 


MIL    WILTOS'S  Flill-XDSinr. 


21 


by  that 

\h\  Wil- 

'0  cvcry- 
!,  its  lio- 

if  quite 
•ing  niy- 
intensc- 
I  slionld 
lie  point 
)  receive 
c  way  of 
nicli  eir- 
perhapp, 
le  names 
as  born. 
\.nd  slie 

a  si'ght 

les,  and 
led,  and 

laid  the 

me  ;  in 

3ut  be- 

power 

lonarv. 


mpar- 
biit 
nd  liie 


n 


Lord 

3t  love 

added 

agree- 

vs.     I 


look  back  to  the  past  with  regret,  but  without  remorse.  One 
might  have  done  more  good,  but  one  did  some;"  and  she 
sighed. 

*•  You  seemed  to  me,"  said  Sidney  with  emotion,  '*  to  dif- 
fuse benefits  and  blessings  among  all  around  you." 

*•  And  I  read,"  said  the  lady,  a  little  indigiumt,  *•'  in  some 
memoirs  the  other  day,  that  our  court  was  a  corrupt  and  disso- 
lute court.  It  was  a  court  of  })leasure,  if  you  like  ;  but  of 
pleasure  tliat  animated  and  relincd,  and  put  the  world  in  good 
Imnior,  which,  after  all,  is  good  government.  The  most  cor- 
rupt and  dissolute  courts  on  the  continent  of  Europe  that  I 
have  known,"  said  the  lady,  "have  been  outwardly  the  dullest 
and  most  decorous." 

**  My  memory  of  those  days,"  said  Mr.  WiUon,  **  is  of 
ceaseless  grace  and  inexhaustible  charm." 

*' "Well,"  said  the  lady,  *'if  I  sinned  I  liave  at  least  suffered. 
And  I  hope  they  w^ere  only  sins  of  omission.  I  wanted  to  see 
everybody  happy,  and  tried  to  make  them  so.  But  let  us  talk 
no  more  of  ourselves.  The  unfortunate  arc  always  egotistical.. 
Toll  me  something  of  Mr.  Wilton  ;  and,  above  all,  tell  me  why 
you  are  not  in  the  new  government." 

"I  have  not  been  invited,"  said  Mr.  Wilton.  ''There  are 
more  claimants  than  can  be  satisfied,  and  my  claims  are  not 
very  strong.  It  is  scarcely  a  disappointment  to  mi ,  I  shall 
continue  in  public  life  ;  but,  so  far  as  political  responsibility  is 
concerned,  I  would  rather  wait.  I  have  some  fancies  on  that 
head,  but  I  will  not  trouble  you  with  them.  My  time,  there- 
fore, is  at  my  command  ;  and  so,"  he  added  smilingly,  "  I  can 
attend  to  the  education  of  Prince  Florestan." 

'*  Do  you  hear  that,  Florestan  ?  "  said  the  lady  to  her  son  ; 
*•  I  told  you  we  had  a  friend.     Thank  Mr.  Wilton." 

And  the  young  Print,  bowed  as  before,  but  with  a  more 
serious  expression.     He,  however,  said  nothing. 

*'Isee  you  have  not  forgotten  your  most  delightful  pur- 
suit," said  Mr.  Wilton,  and  he  looked  toward  the  musical 
instruments. 

'"No,"  said  the  lady;  "throned  or  discrowned,  music  has 
ever  been  the  charm  or  consolation  of  my  life." 


*4  aJ 


END  Y Ml  OX. 


U 


'■  1 


m; 


"  I'leasurc  sliouUl  follow  business,"  siiiil  Mr.  Wilton,  "uiid 
we  liavc  transacted  our.s.  Would  it  be  too  bold  if  I  asked 
again  to  hear  those  tones  which  have  so  often  enchanted  mc  ?" 

*'  My  voice  has  not  fallen  ofT,"  t^aid  the  lady,  "for  you  know 
it  'vas  never  first-rate.  But  they  were  kind  enough  to  say  it 
had  some  expression,  ])robably  because  I  generally  sang  my 
own  words  to  my  own  rnusic.  I  will  sing  you  my  farewell  to 
Florestan,"  she  added  gayly,  and  she  took  up  her  guitar,  and 
then  in  tones  of  melancholy  sweetness,  breaking  at  last  into  a 
gushing  burst  of  long-controlled  affection,  she  expressed  the 
agony  and  devotion  of  a  mother's  heart.  Mr.  Wilton  was  a 
little  agitated ;  her  son  left  the  room.  The  mother  turned 
round  with  a  smiling  face,  and  said,  ''The  darling  can  not 
bear  to  hear  it,  but  I  sing  it  on  purpose,  to  prepare  him  for 
the  inevitable." 

*'IIe  is  soft-hearted,"  ^aid  Mr.  Wilton. 

"  He  is  the  most  affectionate  of  beings,"  rci)licd  the  motlicr. 
"  Affectionate  and  mysterious.  I  can  say  no  more.  1  ought 
to  tell  you  his  character.  I  can  not.  You  may  say  he  may 
have  none.  I  do  not  know,  lie  has  abilities,  for  he  acquires 
knowledge  with  facility,  and  knows  a  great  deal  for  a  boy. 
But  he  never  gives  an  opinion.  He  is  silent  and  solitary.  Poor 
darling  !  he  has  rarely  had  companions,  and  that  may  be  the 
cause.     He  seems  to  me  always  to  be  thinking." 

''Well,  a  public  school  will  rouse  him  from  his  reveries," 
said  Mr.  Wilton. 

''As  he  is  away  at  this  moment,  I  will  say  that  which  I 
should  not  care  to  say  before  his  face,"  said  the  lady.  "  You 
are  about  to  do  mc  a  great  service,  not  the  first ;  and  before  I 
leave  this,  we  may — we  must — meet  again  more  than  once,  but 
there  is  no  time  like  the  present.  The  separation  between 
Florestan  and  myself  may  be  final.  It  is  sad  to  think  of  such 
things,  but  they  must  be  thought  of,  for  they  are  probable.  I 
still  look  in  a  mirror,  Sidney  ;  I  am  not  so  frightened  by  what 
has  occurred  since  we  first  met,  to  be  afraid  of  that — but  I 
never  deceive  myself.  I  do  not  know  what  may  be  the  magical 
effect  of  the  raisins  of  Malaga,  but  if  it  save  my  life  the  grape 
cure  will  indeed  achieve  a  miracle.      Do  not  look  gloomy. 


Adh'll'riXA. 


2;5 


toil,  "and 
f  I  asked 
I  ted  me?" 
you  know 
L  to  say  it 
■  sang  my 
are  well  to 
uitar,  and 
ast  into  a 
resscd  the 
ton  was  a 
cr  turned 
5  can  not 
c  liini  for 


ic  mother. 
1  ought 
,y  he  may 
c  acquires 
or  a  boy. 
ry.  Poor 
ay  he  the 


L'cveries, 


J) 


which  I 
"  You 
before  I 
)nce,  but 
between 
of  such 
lable.  I 
by  what 
t— but  I 
magical 
le  grape 
loomy. 


Tlio.-c  who  have  known  real  grief  >«eldom  j^eem  siid.  I  have 
been  struggling  with  sorrow  for  ten  years,  but  I  have  got 
through  it  with  iniLsic  and  singing,  and  my  boy.  Sec  now — he 
will  be  a  source  of  expense,  and  it  will  not  do  for  you  to  be 
looking  to  a  woman  for  sujiplies.  Women  are  generous  but 
not  jirecisc  in  money  matters.  1  have  some  excuse,  for  tlie 
world  has  treated  me  not  very  well.  I  never  got  my  iien.sion 
regularly  ;  now  I  never  get  it  at  all.  So  much  for  the  treaties, 
l)ut  everybody  laughs  at  them.  Here  is  the  fortune  of  Flores- 
tan,  and  I  wish  it  all  to  be  spent  on  his  education,"  and  she 
took  a  case  from  her  bosom.  "  They  are  not  the  crown  jewels 
though.  The  memoirs  I  was  reading  the  other  day  say  I  ran 
away  with  them.  That  is  false  like  most  things  said  of  me. 
But  these  arc  gems  of  Golconda,  which  I  wish  you  to  realize 
and  expend  for  his  service.  They  were  the  gift  of  love,  and 
tliey  were  worn  in  love." 

''  It  is  unnecessary,"  said  Mr.  Wilton,  deprecating  the  oiler 
by  his  attitude. 

*'IIush  !"  said  the  lady.  '"  I  am  still  a  sovereign  to  you, 
and  I  must  be  obeyed. " 

Mr.  Wilton  took  the  case  of  jewels,  pressed  it  to  his  lips, 
and  then  placed  it  in  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat.  He  was 
about  to  retire,  when  the  lady  added,  ''I  must  give  you  this 
copy  of  my  song." 

"And  you  will  write  my  name  on  it  ?" 

"Certainly,"  replied  the  lady,  as  she  went  to  the  table  and 
wrote,  "For  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton,  from  Aorippi>'A." 


CHAPTER  V. 

Ix  the  mean  time,  power  and  prosperity  clustered  round  the 
roof  and  family  of  Fcrrars.  He  himself  Avas  in  the  prime  of 
manhood,  with  an  exalted  position  in  the  world  of  politics,  and 
Avith  a  i^rospect  of  the  highest.  The  Government  of  which  he 
was  a  member  was  not  only  deemed  strong,  but  eternal.     The 


2t 


ENDYMIOX. 


;U 


(  it 


.*.    ! 


favor  of  the  court  and  the  confidence  of  the  country  were  alike 
hivished  on  it.  The  government  of  the  Duke  coukl  only  be 
measured  by  his  life,  and  his  influence  was  irresistible.  It  was 
a  dictatorship  of  patriotism.  The  country,  long  accusLomcd 
to  a  strong  and  undisturbed  administration,  and  frightened  by 
the  changes  and  catastrophes  which  had  followed  the  retire- 
ment 01  Lord  Liverpool,  took  refuge  in  the  powerful  will  and 
splendid  reputation  of  a  real  hero. 

Mrs.  Ferrars  Avas  as  ambitious  of  social  distinction  as  her 
Juisband  was  of  political  power.  She  was  a  woman  of  taste, 
but  of  luxurious  taste.  She  had  a  passion  for  splendor,  which, 
though  ever  regulated  by  a  fine  perception  of  the  fitness  of 
things,  was  still  costly.  Though  her  mien  was  in  general 
liaughty,  she  flattered  Zenobia  and  consummately.  Zenobia, 
who  liked  handsome  people,  even  handsome  women,  and  per- 
sons who  were  dressed  beautifully,  and  delighted  her  eye  by 
their  grace  and  fine  manners,  was  quite  won  by  Mrs.  Ferrars, 
against  Avhom  at  first  she  was  inclined  to  be  a  little  prejudiced. 
There  was  an  entire  alliance  between  them,  and  though  ]\Irs. 
Fari'ars  greatly  influenced  and  almost  ruled  Zenobia,  the  wife 
of  the  minister  was  careful  always  to  acknowledge  the  Queen 
of  Fashion  as  her  suzeraine. 

The  great  world  then,  compared  with  the  huge  society  of 
the  present  period,  was  limited  in  its  proportions,  and  com- 
posed of  elements  more  refined  though  far  less  various.  It 
consisted  mainly  of  the  great  landed  aristocracy,  who  had  quite 
absorbed  the  nabobs  of  India,  and  had  nearly  appropriated  the 
liuge  West  Indian  fortunes.  Occasionally,  an  eminent  banker 
or  merchant  invested  a  large  portion  of  his  accumulations 
in  land,  and  in  the  purchase  of  parliamentary  influence,  and 
was  in  time  duly  admitted  into  the  sanctuary.  But  those  vast 
and  successful  invasions  of  society  by  new  classes  which  have 
t  ince  occurred,  though  impending,  had  not  yet  commenced, 
llic  manufacturers,  the  railway  kings,  the  colossal  contractors, 
the  discoverers  of  nuggets,  had  not  yet  found  their  place  in 
society  and  the  senate.  There  were  tlien,  perhaps,  more  great 
liouses  open  than  at  the  present  day,  but  there  were  very  few 
little  ones.     The  necessity  of  providing  regular  occasions  for 


GOOD  XEWS. 


v'crc  alike 
L  only  be 
.  It  was 
customed 
iteiied  by 
he  retire- 

I  will  and 

)n  as  her 

of  taste, 

r,  which, 

fitness  of 

II  general 
Zen(>bia, 
and  per- 

>r  eye  by 
.  Ferrars, 
ejudiced. 
ugh  ]\Irs. 
the  wife 
10  Queen 

ociety  of 
nd  com- 
ious.  It 
lad  quite 
iated  the 
banker 
ulations 
ice,  and 
nose  vast 
ch  have 
[lenced. 
ractors, 
place  in 
e  great 
ery  few 
ons  for 


the  assembling  of  the  miscellaneous  world  of  fashion  led  to  the 
institution  of  Almack's,  which  died  out  in  the  advent  of  the 
new  system  of  society,  and  in  the  fierce  competition  of  its  inex- 
hau.stible  private  entertainments. 

The  season  then  was  brilliant  and  sustained,  but  it  was  not 
flurried.  People  did  not  go  to  various  i)artics  on  the  same 
night.  They  remained  where  they  were  assembled,  and,  not 
being  in  a  hurry,  were  more  agreeable  than  tliey  are  at  the 
present  day.  Conversation  was  more  cultivated  ;  manners, 
though  unconstrained,  were  more  stately  ;  and  the  world,  being 
limited,  kncAV  itself  much  better.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
sympathies  of  society  were  more  contracted  than  they  are  at 
present.  The  pressure  of  })opulation  had  not  ojiencd  the  heart 
of  man.  The  world  attended  to  its  poor  in  its  country  parishes, 
and  subscribed  and  danced  for  the  Spitidfields  weavers  when 
their  normal  distress  had  overflowed,  but  their  knowlcdue  of 
the  people  did  not  exceed  these  bounds,  and  the  people  know 
very  little  more  about  themselves.     They  were  only  half-born. 

The  darkest  hour  precedes  the  dawn,  and  a  period  of  un- 
usual stillness  often,  perha])?  usually,  heralds  the  social  con- 
vulsion. At  this  moment  the  general  tranquillity  and  even 
content  were  remarkable.  In  politics  the  Whigs  were  quite 
prepared  to  extend  to  the  Duke  the  same  provisional  confidenco 
that  had  been  accepted  by  Mr.  Canning,  and  conciliation  began 
to  be  an  accepted  phrase,  which  meant  in  practice  some  share 
on  their  part  of  the  good  things  of  the  State.  The  country 
itself  required  nothing.  There  was  a  general  im])ression,  in- 
deed, that  they  had  been  advancing  at  a  rather  rapid  rate,  and 
that  it  was  as  well  that  the  reins  should  be  intrusted  to  a  wary 
driver.  Zenobia,  who  represented  society,  was  enraptured  that 
the  career  of  revolution  had  been  staved.  She  still  mourned 
over  the  concession  of  the  Manchester  and  Liverpool  railway 
in  a  moment  of  Liberal  infatuation,  but  flattered  herself  that 
any  extension  of  the  railway  system  might  certainly  be  arrested, 
and  on  this  head  the  majority  of  society,  perhaps  even  of  tho 
country,  was  certainly  on  her  side. 

"\  have  some  good  news  for  you,"  said  one  of  her  youn;^ 
favorites  as  he  attended  her  reception.     "  We  have  prevented 


{ 


1    ' 


26 


EXDYMIOX. 


tliis  morning  the  ligliting  of  Grosvenor  Sf{nare  ly  gas  by  a  large 
majority." 

"I  felt  confident  that  disgrace  Avoiild  never  occur,"  said 
Zcnouia,  triumpliant.  '' And  by  a  hirge  majority!  I  wonder 
how  Lord  Pomeroy  voted." 

'''Against  us." 

''How  can  one  save  this  country?"  exclaimed  Zenobia. 
"I  believe  now  the  story  that  he  has  ordered  Lady  Pomeroy 
not  to  go  to  the  Drawing  Room  in  a  sedan  chair." 

One  bright  May  morning  in  the  spring  that  followed  the 
formation  of  the  government  that  was  to  last  for  ever,  Mrs. 
Ferrars  received  the  world  at  a  fanciful  entertainment  in  the 
beautiful  grounds  of  her  Wimbledon  villa.  The  day  was  genial, 
the  scene  was  flushed  with  roses  and  pink  thorns,  and  brilliant 
groups,  amid  bursts  of  music,  clustered  and  sauntered  on  the 
green  turf  of  bowery  lawns.  Mrs.  Ferrars,  on  a  rustic  throne, 
Avith  the  wondrous  twins  in  still  more  wonderful  attire,  distrib- 
uted alternate  observations  of  sympathetic  gayety  to  a  Russian 
Orand  Duke  and  to  the  serene  heir  of  a  German  principality. 
And  yet  there  was  really  an  expression  on  her  countenance  of 
restlessness,  not  to  say  anxiety,  which  ill  accorded  with  the 
dulcet  tones  and  the  wa-eathed  smiles  which  charmed  her  august 
companions.  Zenobia,  the  great  Zenobia,  had  not  arrived,  and 
the  hours  were  advancing.  The  Grand  Duke  played  with  the 
beautiful  and  haughty  infants,  and  the  German  Prince  inquired 
of  Endymion  whether  he  were  destined  to  be  one  of  Her  Ma- 
jesty's guards  ;  but  still  Zenobia  did  not  come,  and  Mrs.  Ferrars 
could  scarcely  conceal  her  vexation.  But  there  was  no  real  oc- 
casion for  it;  for  even  at  this  moment,  with  avant-courier  and 
outriders  and  badged  postilions  on  her  four  horses  of  race,  the 
lodge-gates  Averc  opening  for  the  reception  of  the  great  lady, 
who  herself  soon  appeared  in  the  distance  ;  and  Mrs.  Ferrars, 
accompanied  by  ber  distinguished  guests,  immediately  rose  and 
advanced  to  receive  the  Queen  of  Fashion.  No  one  appreciated 
a  royal  presence  more  highly  than  Zenobia.  It  was  her  habit 
to  impress  upon  her  noble  fellows  of  both  sexes  that  there  were 
relations  of  intimacy  between  herself  and  the  royal  houses  of 
Europe,  Avhich  were  not  shared  by  her  class.     She  liked  to  i)lay 


''ALL  FOUR  OUT!'' 


27 


as  by  a  large 

occur,"  said 
!    I  wonder 


icd   Zciiobia. 
idy  romeroy 

followed  tlic 
)r  ever,  Mrs. 
imcnt  in  tlic 
ly  Avas  genial, 
and  brilliant 
itered  on  the 
•ustic  tlirone, 
ittire,  distrib- 
,'  to  a  Russian 
principality, 
untenance  of 
[led  with  the 
led  her  august 
arrived,  and 
lycd  with  the 
incc  inquired 
|e  of  Her  Ma- 
Mrs.  Ferrars 
las  no  real  oc- 
t-couricr  and 
of  race,  the 
great  lady, 
drs.  Ferrari^, 
,tely  rose  and 
c  appreciated 
as  her  habit 
at  there  were 
lal  houses  of 
liked  to  play 


the  part  of  a  social  mediator  between  the  tiristocracy  and  royal 

houses.     A  German  Serenity  Avas  her  delight,  but  a  Russian 

Grand  Duke  was  her  embodiment  of  power  and  pomp,  and 

sound  principles  in  their  most  authentic  and  orthodox  form. 

And  yet,  though  she  addressed  their  highnesses  with  her  usual 

ourtly  vivacity,  and  poured  forth  inquiries  which  seemed  to 

indicate  the  most  familiar  acquaintance  wi<^h  the  latest  inci- 

ileiits  from  Schonbrunn  or  the  Rhine  though  she  embraced  her 

lo.-tcss,  and  even  kissed  the  children,  the  practiced  eye  of  Mrs. 

jFerrars,  whose  life  was  a  study  of  Zcnobia,  detected  that  her 

ilate  appearance  had  been  occasioned  by  an  important  cause, 

Sfind.  what  was  more,  that  Zenobia  was  anxious  to  communicate 

lit  to  her.     With  feminine  tact  Mrs.  Ferrars  moved  on  with  her 

nests  until  the  occasion  offered  when  she  could  present  some 

reat  ladies  to  the  princes ;  and  then  dismissing  the  children 

n  appropriate  missions,  she  was  not  surprised  Avhen  Zenobia 

mmediately  exclaimed  :  *' Thank  heaven,  wo  are  at  last  alone  ! 

ou  must  have  been  surprised  I  was  so  late.     Well,  guess  what 

ftas  happened  ?"  and  then  as  Mrs.  Ferrars  shook  her  head,  she 

roiitinued  :  ''  They  are  all  four  out ! " 
^      '^Vllfour!" 

I  '"Yes;  Lord  Dudley,  Lord  Palmerston,  and  Charles  Grant 
Ifollow  Iluskissoii.  T  do  not  believe  the  llrst  ever  meant  to  go, 
put  the  Duke  would  not  listen  to  his  hypocritical  explanations, 
land  the  rest  have  followed.  I  am  surprised  about  Lord  Dud- 
|ey,  as  I  know  he  loved  his  oJlice." 
"  I  am  alarmed,"  said  Mrs.  Ferrars. 

"Not  the  slightest  cause  for  fear,"  exclaimed  the  intrepid 
enobia.     "  It  must  have  Inqipened  sooner  or  later.     I  am  de- 
ightcd  at  it.     We  shall  now  have  a  cabinet  of  our  own.     Tlicy 
over  would  have  rested  till  they  had  brought  in  some  Whigs, 
nd  the  country  hates  the  Whigs.     No  wonder,  when  we  re- 
ember  that  if  they  had  had  their  way  we  should  have  been 
caring  sabots  at  this  time,  with  a  French  prefect  pro1)aljly  in 
olland  House." 

"And  whom  will  they  put  in  the  cabinet  ?"  inquired  Mrs. 
errars. 
"  Our  good  friends,  I  hope,"  said  Zenobia,  with  an  inspir- 


2S 


EXDYMIOX. 


i! 


iiif^  smile  ;  •■*  but  I  liiive  heard  nothing  about  that  yet.  lam 
u  little  sorry  about  Lord  Dudley,  as  1  think  they  have  drawn 
him  into  their  mesh  ;  but  as  for  the  other  three,  especially 
Iluskisson  and  Lord  Palmerston,  I  can  tell  you  the  Duke  has 
never  luid  a  ouict  moment  since  they  joined  him.  We  shall 
now  begin  to  reign.  The  only  mistake  way  ever  to  have  ad- 
mitted t]  em.  I  think  now  we  have  got  rid  of  Liberalism  for 
ever." 


CHAPTER  VL 


Mr.  Ferrars  did  not  become  a  cabinet  minister,  but  this 
•was  a  vexation  rather  than,  a  disappointment,  and  tninsient. 
The  unexpected  vacancies  were  tilled  by  unexi)ected  personages. 
So  great  a  change  in  the  frame  of  the  ministry,  Avithout  any 
promotion  for  himself,  was  on  the  first  impression  not  agree- 
able, but  reflection  and  the  sanguine  wisdom  of  Zenobia  soon 
convinced  him  that  all  was  for  the  best,  that  the  thought  of 
such  rapid  preferment  was  unreasonable,  and  that  time  and 
the  due  season  must  inevitably  bring  all  that  he  could  desire, 
especially  as  any  term  to  the  duration  of  the  ministry  was  not 
now  to  be  foreseen  :  scarcely  indeed  possible.  In  short  it  was 
shown  to  him  that  the  Tory  part}',  renovated  and  restored,  had 
entered  upon  a  new  lease  of  authority,  which  would  stamp  its 
character  on  the  remainder  of  the  nineteenth  century,  as  Mr. 
Pitt  and  his  school  had  marked  its  earlier  and  memorable  years. 

And  yet  thio  very  rccor  otruction  of  the  government  neces- 
sarily led  to  an  incident  Avhich,  in  its  consequences,  changed 
the  Avhole  character  of  English  politics,  and  commenced  a  series 
of  revolutions  which  has  not  yet  closed. 

One  of  the  ncAV  ministers  who  had  been  preferred  to  a  place 
which  Mr.  Ferrars  might  have  filled  was  an  Irish  gentleman, 
and  a  member  for  one  of  the  most  considerable  counties  in  his 
country.  He  was  a  good  speaker,  and  the  government  was 
deficient  in  debating  power  in  the  House  of  Commons  ;  he  was 
jiopular  and  infiuentiah 


THE   CLAIiE  KI.ECTlnX. 


i29 


,-ct.  I  am 
live  drawn 
especially 
Duke  has 
AVc  sliall 
0  have  ad- 
cralism  for 


er,  but  this 
1  trcaisicnt. 
personages, 
yithout  any 
I  not  agrcc- 
enohia  soon 
thought  of 
it  time  and 
;ould  desire, 
ry  was  not 
ihort  it  Avas 
stored,  had 
d  stamp  its 
iiry,  as  Mr. 
irahle  years, 
nent  neces- 
es,  changed 
lecd  a  series 

il  to  a  place 
gentleman, 
ntics  in  his 
•nment  was 
ins ;  he  was 


The  return  of  a  cabinet  niinistt.'r  by  a  large  constituency 
was  more  appreciated  in  the  days  of  close  boroughs  than  at 
])rescnt.  There  was  a  rumor  that  the  new  minister  was  to  be 
opposed,  b'lt  Zenobia  laughed  iho  rumor  to  scorn.  As  she 
irresistibly  remarked  at  one  of  her  evening  gatherings,  "  Every 
landowner  in  the  county  is  in  his  favor ;  therefore  it  is  impos- 
sible." The  statistics  of  Zenobia  were  quite  correct,  yet  the 
result  was  different  from  what  slie  anticipated.  An  Irish  law- 
yer, a  professional  agitator,  himself  a  Roman  Catholic  and 
therefore  ineligil)le,  announced  himself  as  a  candidate  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  new  minister,  and  on  the  day  of  election,  thirty 
thousand  peasants,  setting  at  deiiancc  all  the  landowners  of  the 
county,  returned  O'Connell  at  the  head  of  the  poll,  and  jilaced 
among  not  the  least  memorable  of  historical  events — the  Clare 
election. 

This  event  did  not,  however,  occur  until  the  end  of  the 
year  1828,  for  the  state  of  the  hnv  then  prevented  the  writ 
from  being  moved  until  that  time,  and  during  the  Avhole  of 
that  year  the  Ferrars  family  had  })ursued  a  course  of  unflagging 
display.  Courage,  expenditure,  and  tact  combined,  had  real- 
ized aln.ost  the  height  of  that  social  ambition  to  which  Mrs. 
Ferrars  soared.  Even  in  the  limited  and  exclusive  circle  which 
then  prevailed,  she  began  to  be  counted  among  the  great  dames. 
As  for  the  twins,  they  seemed  quite  Avorthy  of  their  beautiful 
and  luxurious  mother.  Proud,  Avillful,  and  selfish,  they  had 
one  redeeming  c(uality,  an  intense  affection  for  each  other. 
The  sister  seemed  to  have  the  commanding  spirit,  for  Endym- 
ion  was  calm,  but,  if  ho  were  ruled  by  his  sister,  she  was  ever 
willing  to  be  his  slave,  and  to  sacrifice  every  consideration  to 
his  caprice  and  his  convenience. 

The  year  1829  Avas  CA'cntful,  but  to  Ferrars  more  agitating 
than  anxious.  When  it  was  first  known  that  the  head  of  the 
calfinet,  whose  colleague  had  been  defeated  at  Clare,  was  him- 
self iibout  to  propose  the  emancipation  of  the  Roman  Catholics, 
there  Avas  a  thrill  throughout  the  country  ;  but  after  a  time  tlio 
success  of  the  operation  was  not  doubted,  and  Avas  anticii)ated 
as  a  fresh  proof  of  the  irresistible  fortune  of  the  heroic  slates- 
man.     There  was  some  popular  discontent  in  the  country  at 


il 


!i 


■!il 


II 


V 

A    ill 

\^    ii 


30 


EXDV2flOy. 


tlic  proposal,  but  it  was  mainly  0:7  mizcd  and  stimulated  by 
the  Dissenters,  and  that  section  Ol  Churchmen  who  most  re- 
sembled them.  The  fligh  Chu'.ch  party,  the  descendants  of 
the  old  connection  which  had  rallied  vound  Sachevercll,  ha(^. 
subsided  into  formal i.-m,  and  shrank  from  any  very  active  co- 
operation with  their  evangx'lical  brethren. 

The  English  Church  had  no  competent  leaders  among  the 
clergy.  The  spirit  that  has  animated  'Uid  disturbed  our  latter 
times  seemed  quite  dead,  and  no  one  anticipated  its  resurrec- 
tion. The  bishops  liad  been  selected  from  college  dons,  men 
profoundly  ignorant  of  the  condition  and  the  wants  of  the 
country.  To  have  edited  a  Greek  play  with  second-rate  suc- 
cess, or  to  have  been  the  tutor  of  some  considerable  patrician, 
was  the  qualification  then  deemed  desirable  and  sufiicient  for 
an  oliice,  Avhich  at  this  day  is  at  least  reserved  for  eloquence 
and  energy.  The  social  influence  of  the  episcopal  bench  was 
nothing.  A  prelate  was  rarely  seen  in  the  saloons  of  Zcnobia. 
It  is  since  the  depths  of  religious  thought  have  been  probed, 
and  the  influence  of  woman  in  the  spread  and  sustenance  of 
religious  feeling  has  again  been  recognized,  that  fascinating 
and  fashionable  prelates  have  become  favored  guests  in  the  re- 
fined saloons  of  the  mighty,  and,  while  apparently  indulging 
in  the  vanities  of  the  hour,  have  reestablished  the  influence 
which  in  old  da}s  guided  a  j\iatilda  or  the  mother  of  Constau- 
tine. 

The  end  of  the  year  18-29,  however,  brought  a  private  event 
of  moment  to  the  Fci  's  family.  The  elder  Mr.  Ferrars  died. 
The  world  observed  at  the  time  how  deeply  affected  his  son  was 
at  this  event.  The  relations  between  father  and  son  had  always 
been  commendable,  liut  the  world  Avas  hardly  prepared  for  Mr. 
Ferrars,  junior,  being  so  entirely  overwhelmed.  It  would  seem 
that  nothing  but  the  duties  of  public  life  could  have  restored 
him  to  his  friends,  and  even  these  duties  he  relinquished  for  an 
unustial  time.  The  world  was  curioub  0  know  the  amount  of 
his  inheritance,  but  the  proof  of  the  Avill  was  unusually  delayed, 
and  public  events  soon  occurred  Avliich  alike  consigned  the  will 
and  the  will-maker  to  oblivion. 


DEATH  OF  GEORGE  IV. 


31 


imulated  by 
ho  most  re- 
iccndtmts  of 
evcrcll,  had 
L'y  active  co- 

;  among  tlio 

}d  our  hitter 

its  resurrec- 

e  don?;,  men 

ants  of  the 

iid-ratc  suc- 

e  patrician, 

nfiicient  for 

»r  eloquence 

1  bench  was 

of  Zcnobia. 

cen  probed, 

istenancc  of 

fascinating 

t3  in  the  re- 

y  indulging 

e  influence 

f  Constan- 

'ivate  event 
lerrars  died, 
lliis  son  was 

lad  always 
^ed  for  ]\Ir. 
[vould  seem 
i'C  restored 
shed  for  an 
lamount  of 
ly  delayed, 

;d  the  will 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Duke  of  Wellington  applied  himself  to  the  treatment 
of  the  critical  circumstances  of  1830  with  that  blended  patience 
and  quickness  of  perception  to  which  he  owed  the  success  of 
many  campaigns.  Quite  conscious  of  the  difliculties  he  had  to 
encounter,  he  was  nevertheless  full  of  confidence  in  his  ability 
to  control  them.  It  is  probable  that  the  paramount  desire  of 
the  Duke  in  his  eifort  to  confirm  his  power  was  to  rally  and  re- 
store the  ranks  of  the  Tory  i)arty,  disturbed  rather  than  broken 
up  by  the  passing  of  the  Ivelicf  Bill.  During  the  very  heat  of 
the  struggle  it  was  significantly  observed  that  the  head  of  the 
powerful  family  of  Lowther,  in  the  House  of  Commons,  was 
never  asked  to  resign  his  office,  although  both  himself  and  his 
following  voted  invariably  against  tlie  government  measure. 
The  order  of  the  day  was  the  utmost  courtesy  to  the  rebels, 
who  were  treated,  as  some  alleged,  with  more  consideration 
than  the  compliant.  At  the  came  time  the  desire  of  the  Whigs 
to  connect,  perhaps  even  to  merge  themselves  in  the  ministerial 
ranks,  was  not  neglected.  A  Whig  had  been  appointed  to  suc- 
ceed the  eccentric  and  too  uncompromising  AVetherell  in  the 
ollice  of  attorney-general,  other  posts  had  been  placed  at  their 
disposal,  and  one  even,  an  old  companion  in  arms  of  the  Duke, 
had  entered  tlie  cabinet.  The  confidence  in  the  Duke's  star 
was  not  diminished,  and  under  ordinary  circumstances  this 
])alanced  strategy  would  probably  have  been  successful.  But 
it  was  destined  to  cope  with  great  and  tmexpected  events. 

The  first  was  the  unexpected  demise  of  the  croAvn.  Tlio 
death  of  King  George  the  Fourth  at  the  end  of  the  montli  of 
June,  according  to  the  then  existing  constitution,  necessitated  a 
dissolution  of  Parliament,  and  so  deprived  the  minister  of  that 
invaluable  quality  of  time,  necessary  to  soften  and  win  back 
his  estranged  friends.  ISTcvertheless,  it  is  not  improbable,  that 
the  Duke  might  still  have  succeeded,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
occurrence  of  the  French  insurrection  of  1830,  in  the  very  heat 
of  the  preparations  for  the  general  election  in  England.  The 
Whigs,  who  found  the  Duke  going  to  the  country  without  that 


I   I 


]   I 


r 


i   f 


EXDYMIOX. 


The  excitement  of  the  times  "wiis  rellccted  in  her 
She  addressed  her  arriving  guests  us  they  made  tlicir 


icconsi.ruction  of  liis  min'-^try  on  which  tliey  had  cniited,  saw 
tlicir  opportunity  and  seized  it.  The  triumi)hant  riots  of  Paris 
Avere  dignilied  into  "the  three  gloriors  days,"  and  the  tlirec  glo- 
rious days  were  universally  recognized  as  the  trit^ni})!!  of  civil 
and  religious  liberty.  The  names  of  Polignac  and  Wellington 
were  adroitly  connected  together,  and  the  phrase  Parliamen- 
tary Reform  began  to  circulate. 

It  was  Zenobia's  last  reception  for  the  season  ;  on  the  mor- 
row she  was  about  to  depart  for  her  county,  and  canvass  for 
lier  candidates.  She  was  still  undaunted,  and  never  more 
ins])iring, 
manner. 

obeisance  to  her,  asked  for  news  and  imparted  it  before  she 
could  be  answered,  declared  that  nothing  had  been  more  criti- 
cal since  '03,  that  there  was  onlv  one  man  who  was  able  to  deal 
with  the  situation,  and  thanked  heaven  that  he  Avas  not  only  in 
England,  but  in  her  draAving-room. 

Ferrars,  Avho  had  been  dining  Avitli  his  patron.  Lord  Pome- 
roy,  and  had  the  batisfaction  of  feeling,  that  at  any  rate  his 
return  to  the  ncAV  Parliament  Avas  certain,  Avhile  helping  liim- 
gelf  to  coffee  could  not  refrain  from  saying  in  a  Ioav  tone  to  a 
gentleman  Avho  Avas  performing  the  same  office,  '•'  Our  Whig 
friends  seem  in  high  spirits,  baron." 

The  gentleman  thus  addressed  Avas  Baron  Sergius,  a  man  of 
middle  age.  His  countenance  Avas  singularly  intelligent,  tem- 
pered Avitli  an  expression  mild  and  winning.  lie  had  attended 
the  Congress  of  Vienna  to  represent  a  fallen  party,  a  difficult 
and  ungracious  task,  but  he  had  shoAvn  such  high  qualities  in 
the  fulfillment  of  his  painful  duties — so  much  knowledge,  so 
much  self-control,  and  so  much  Avise  and  unaffected  concilia- 
tion— that  he  had  Avon  universal  respect,  and  especially  Avith 
the  English  plenipotentiaries,  so  that  when  lie  visited  England, 
Avliich  he  did  frequently,  the  houses  of  both  parties  were  open 
to  him,  and  he  was  as  intimate  with  the  Whigs  as  he  Avas  Avitli 
the  great  Duke,  by  AAiiom  he  was  highly  esteemed. 

"As  Ave  liaA'o  got  our  coffee,  let  us  sit  down,"  said  the  bar- 
on, and  they  withdrcAV  to  a  settee  against  the  wall. 

"You  know  that  I  am  a  Liberal,  and  haA'e  always  been  a 


BAROX  S'-:nGIUS. 


83 


;ed,  saw 
of  Vi\n^ 
ircc  glo- 
of  civil 
lliiigton 
i-liiimcn- 


;hc  mor- 
ivass  I'or 
cr  more 
d  in  licr 
ude  llicii* 
eforc  she 
lorc  criti- 
ilc  to  deal 
ot  only  ill 

>rd  Pome- 
y  rate  liis 
[)ing  him- 
toiie  to  a 
lur  Wliig 

a  man  of 
;ont,  tcm- 

at  tended 

i\  difficult 

lalities  in 

rledgc,  so 

concilia- 
[ially  with 
1  England, 

rere  open 

was  with 

Id  the  har- 


T.ibcral,"  said  the  baron;  "I  know  the  value  of  civil  ami 
religious  liberty,  for  I  was  born  in  a  country  where  we  had 
neither,  and  where  we  liave  since  enjo^'ed  either  very  fitfully. 
Nothing  can  be  much  drearier  than  the  present  lot  of  my  coun- 
try, and  it  is  probable  that  these  doings  at  Paris  may  help  my 
friends  a  little,  and  they  may  again  hold  up  their  heads  for  a 
time  ;  but  I  have  seen  too  much,  and  am  too  old,  to  indulge  in 
dreams.  You  are  a  young  man  and  will  live  to  see  what  I  can 
only  predict.  The  world  is  thinking  of  something  else  than 
civil  and  religious  liberty  Those  are  phrases  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  The  men  Avho  have  won  these  '  three  glorious  days ' 
at  Paris,  want  neither  civilization  nor  religion.  They  will  not 
he  content  till  they  have  destroyed  both.  It  is  possible  that 
they  may  be  parried  for  a  time  ;  that  the  adroit  wisdom  of  the 
house  of  Orleans,  guided  by  Talleyrand,  may  give  this  move- 
ment the  resemblance,  and  even  the  character,  of  a  middle- 
class  revolution.  It  is  no  such  thing  ;  the  barricades  were  not 
erected  by  the  middle  class.  I  know  these  people  ;  it  is  a  fra- 
ternity, not  a  nation.  Europe  is  honeycombed  with  their  secret 
societies.  They  are  spread  all  over  Spain.  Italy  is  entirely 
mined.  I  know  more  of  the  southern  than  the  northern  na- 
tions, but  I  have  been  assured  by  one  who  should  know,  that 
the  brotherhood  are  organized  throughout  Germany  and  even 
in  liussia.  I  have  sjioken  to  the  Duke  about  these  things.  He 
is  not  indifferent,  or  altogether  incredulous,  but  he  is  so  essen- 
tially practical  that  he  can  only  deal  with  what  he  sees.  I  have 
spoken  to  the  Whig  leaders.  They  tell  me  that  there  is  only 
one  specific,  and  that  a  complete  one — constitutional  govern- 
ment ;  that  with  representative  institutions,  secret  societies  can 
not  coexist.  I  may  be  wrong,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  with 
tlie.^e  secret  societies  representative  institutions  rather  vill  dis- 
appear." 


lys  been  a 


' 


) ' 


34 


^1 


EXDYMIOX. 


CIIAPTEU   VIII. 


AViiAT  unexpectedly  took  place  in  the  southern  part  of 
England,  and  especially  in  the  maritime  counties,  during  the 
autumn  of  1830,  seemed  rather  to  confirm  the  intimations  of 
Baron  Sergius.  The  people  in  the  rural  districts  liad  become 
disaficcted.  Tlieir  discontent  was  generally  attributed  to  the 
abases  of  the  Poor  Law,  and  to  the  lowness  of  their  wages. 
But  the  abuses  of  the  Poor  Law,  though  intolerable,  were  gen- 
erally in  favor  of  the  laborer,  and  though  Avages  in  some  parts 
were  uncpiestionably  low,  it  was  observed  that  the  tumultuous 
assemblies,  ending  frequently  in  riot,  Avere  held  in  districts 
where  this  cause  did  not  prevail.  The  most  fearful  feature  of 
the  approaching  anarchy  was  the  frcfpicnt  acts  of  incendiaries. 
The  blazing  homesteads  baHlcd  the  feeble  police  and  the  help- 
less magistrates  ;  and  the  government  had  reason  to  believe  that 
foreign  agents  were  actively  promoting  these  mysterious  crimes. 

Amid  partial  discontent  and  general  dejection  came  the 
crash  of  the  Wellington  ministry,  and  it  required  all  the  in- 
spiration of  Zenobia  to  sustain  William  Ferrars  under  the  trial. 
But  she  was  undaunted  and  sanguine  as  a  morning  in  spring. 
Xothing  could  persuade  her  that  the  Whigs  could  ever  form  a 
government,  and  she  was  quite  sure  that  the  clerks  in  the  pub- 
lic offices  alone  could  turn  them  out.  AVhen  the  Whig  govern- 
ment was  formed,  and  its  terrible  programme  announced,  she 
laughed  it  to  scorn,  and  derided  with  inexhaustible  merriment 
the  idea  of  the  House  of  Commons  passing  a  Reform  Bill.  She 
held  a  great  assembly  the  night  that  General  Gascoyne  defeated 
the  first  measure  by  a  majority  of  one,  and  passed  an  evening 
of  ecstasy  in  giving  and  receiving  congratulations.  The  morrow 
brought  a  graver  brow,  but  still  an  indomitable  spirit,  and 
through  all  these  tempestuous  times  Zenobia  never  quailed, 
though  mobs  burnt  the  castles  of  dukes  and  the  palaces  of 
bishops. 

Serious  as  was  the  state  of  affairs  to  William  Ferrars,  hi 
condition  was  not  so  desperate  as  that  of  some  of  his  friends. 
His  seat  at  least  was  safe  in  the  new  Parliament  that  was  to 


I 


-J 


.SL'KLCU   OF  Fi:h'i:Ah\^. 


n.-) 


part  of 
.iring  the 
ations  of 
(1  become 
:ed  to  the 
?ir  wages, 
were  gcn- 
jiuc  parts 
imiiltuous 
1  districts 
feature  of 
:cndiaric3. 
1  tlic  liclp- 
)elieve  that 
Dus  crimes, 
came  the 
.ill  the  in- 
thc  trial, 
ill  spring, 
iver  form  a 
11  the  pub- 
lig  goverii- 
unccd,  she 
merriment 
Bill.    She 
le  defeated 
an  evening 
he  morrow 
spirit,  and 
r  quailed, 
palaces  of 

thenars,  hi 
lis  friends, 
lat  was  to 


pass  a  IJcform  Bill.  As  for  the  Tories  generally,  they  were 
swept  off  tlie  board.  Scarcely  a  constituency,  in  which  was  a 
popular  element,  was  faithful  to  them.  Tlie  counties  in  tlioso 
days  were  the  great  expouiulers  of  jyojiular  princii)Ies,  and 
whenever  England  was  excited,  which  was  rare,  she  spoke 
through  licr  freeholders.  In  this  instance  almost  every  Tory 
knight  of  the  shire  lost  his  scat  except  Lord  Chandos,  the 
member  for  Buckinghamshire,  who  owed  his  success  entirely 
to  his  personal  popularity.  ''Never  mind,''  said  Zciiobia, 
'•'what  docs  it  signify  ?     The  Lords  will  throw  it  out.'' 

And  bravely  and  unceasingly  she  worked  for  this  end.  To 
assist  this  purpose  it  was  necessary  that  a  lengthc'icd  and 
powerful  resistance  to  the  measure  should  be  made  in  tlie  Com- 
mons ;  that  the  public  mind  should  be  im])resscd  with  its  dan- 
gerous principles,  and  its  promoters  cheapened  by  the  cx})03- 
ure  of  their  corrupt  arrangements  and  their  inaccurate  details. 
It  must  be  confessed  that  these  objects  were  resolutely  kept  in 
view,  and  that  the  Tory  opposition  evinced  energy  and  abilities 
not  unwortliy  of  a  great  parliamentary  occasion.  Ferrars  par- 
ticularly distinguished  himself.  He  rose  immensely  in  the 
estimation  of  the  House,  and  soon  the  public  began  to  talk  of 
him.  His  statistics  about  the  condemned  boroughs  were  as- 
tounding and  unanswerable  ;  he  Avas  the  only  man  who  seemed 
to  know  anything  of  the  elements  of  the  new  ones.  He  was  as 
eloquent  too  as  exact—sometimes  as  fervent  as  Burke,  and 
always  as  accurate  as  Cocker. 

"•'I  never  thought  it  was  in  "William  Ferrars,"  said  a  mem- 
ber, musingly,  to  a  companion  as  they  walked  home  one  night ; 
'I  always  thought  him  a  good  man  of  business,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing — but,  somehow  or  other,  I  did  not  think  this  was 
in  liini." 

"Well,  he  his  a  good  deal  at  stake,  and  that  brings  it  out 
of  a  fellow,"  said  his  friend. 

It  was,  however,  pouring  water  upon  sand.  Any  substantial 
resistance  to  the  meas'.ire  was  from  the  first  out  of  the  question. 
Lord  Chandos  accomplished  the  only  important  feat,  and  that 
was  the  enfranchisement  of  the  farmers.  This  perpetual 
struggle,  however,  occasioned  a  vast  deal  of  excitement,  and 


SG 


/;A7>  YMIDX. 


the  actors  in  it  oficn  iii'lul-^d  in  ilie  wild  credulity  of  impos- 
sible expectations.  The  ^illoon  of  Zeiiobiti  avu.s  ever  thronged, 
and  slie  was  never  more  confident  than  when  the  bill  passed 
the  Comnionis.  She  knew  that  the  King  would  never  give  hi.s 
assent  to  the  bill.  I  lis  Majesty  had  liad  quite  enough  of  going 
down  in  hackney  coaches  to  carry  revolutions.  After  all,  he 
was  the  .son  of  good  King  George,  and  the  court  wouhl  save 
the  country,  as  it  had  often  done  before.  "But  it  will  not 
come  to  that,"  she  added.     "  The  Lords  will  do  their  duty." 

**But  Lord  AVaverlcy  tells  me,"  said  Ferrars,  "that  there 
are  forty  of  them  who  were  against  the  bill  last  year  who  will 
vote  for  the  second  reading." 

*'  Never  mind  Lord  Wavcrley  and  such  addlcbrains,"  said 
Zenobia,  with  a  smile  of  triumphant  mystery.  "  So  long  as 
we  have  the  court,  the  Duke,  and  Lord  Lyndhurst  on  our  side, 
Avc  can  adord  to  laugh  at  such  conceited  poltroons.  J  lis  moth- 
er was  my  dearest  friend,  and  I  know  he  used  to  have  fits. 
Look  bright,"  she  continued ;  ''  things  never  Avcrc  better. 
Before  a  week  has  passed  these  people  will  be  nowhere." 

''  But  how  is  it  possible  ?" 

"Trust  mc." 

"I  always  do — and  yet — " 

*'  You  never  were  nearer  being  a  cabinet  minister,"  she  said, 
with  a  radiant  glance. 

And  Zenobia  was  right.  Though  the  government,  with  the 
aid  of  ^hc  waverers,  carried  the  second  reading  of  the  bill, 
a  week  afterward,  on  May  7th,  Lord  Lyndhurst  rallied  the 
waverers  again  to  his  standard  and  carried  his  famous  resolu- 
tion, that  the  enfranchising  clauses  should  })rccede  the  disfran- 
chisement in  the  great  measure.  Lord  Grey  and  his  colleagues 
resigned,  and  the  King  sent  for  Lord  Lyndhurst.  The  bold 
chief  baron  advised  His  Majesty  to  consult  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington, and  was  himself  the  bearer  of  the  King's  message  to 
Apsley  House.  The  Duke  found  the  King  "in  great  distress," 
and  he  therefore  did  not  hesitate  in  promising  to  endeavor  to 
form  a  ministry. 

"Who  was  right  ?"  said  Zenobia  to  Mr.  Fcrrars.  "He  is 
so  busy  he  could  not  write  to  you,  but  he  told  me  to  tell  3'ou 


IlOXOIiS. 


37 


impos- 
roiiged, 

;ivo  liis 

•  all,  ho 
aid  save 
will  not 
[\uty." 
at  there 
who  will 


lis, 


said 


I  long  as 
our  side, 
lis  motli- 
lavc  fits. 
c  better. 


1'  i^lic  said, 

with  the 
the  bill, 
liUied  the 
IS  resolii- 
|c  disfran- 
joUeagucs 
JThc  bold 
le  of  Wel- 
lessage  to 
distress," 
licavor  to 

*aie  is 
tell  you 


to  call  at  Apsloy  Iloiue  at  twelve  to-morrow.     Yon  will  be  in 
the  cabinet," 

"I  have  got  it  at  last!  "slid  Ferrars  to  himself.  "It  is 
worth  living  for  and  at  any  peril.  All  the  cares  of  life  sink 
into  insignificance  under  such  circumstances.  The  dillleuUies 
are  great,  l)ut  their  very  greatness  will  furnish  the  means  of 
tiieir  solution.  The  Crown  can  not  be  dragged  in  the  mud, 
and  the  Duke  was  born  for  conquest." 

A  day  passed,  and  another  day,  and  Ferrars  was  not  again 
f-uinmoncd.  The  alfair  seemed  to  hang  lire.  Zenobia  was  still 
l)rave,  but  Fcrrais,  who  knew  her  thoroughly,  could  doiect  her 
lurking  anxiety.  Then  she  told  him  in  conOdenco  that  8ir 
Uohert  made  diOlcultics,  '"but  there  is  nothing  in  it,"  she 
added.  "'  The  Duke  has  itrovjded  forcvervthinc,  and  he  means 
Sir  Kobcrt  to  be  Premier.  lie  could  not  refuse  that ;  it  would 
be  almost  an  act  of  treason."  Two  davs  after  she  sent  for  .Mr. 
Ferrars,  early  in  the  morning,  and  received  him  in  her  boudoir. 
Iler  countenance  was  excited,  but  serious.  ''  Don't  be 
alarmed,"  she  said  ;  "nothing  will  prevent  a  government  be- 
ing formed,  but  Sir  Robert  has  thrown  us  over ;  I  never  had 
confidence  in  him.  It  is  most  provoking,  as  Mr.  Baring  had 
joined  us,  and  it  was  such  a  good  name  for  the  city.  But  the 
failure  of  one  man  is  the  opportunity  of  another.  AVe  want  a 
leader  in  the  House  of  Commons.  He  must  be  a  man  who  can 
speak  ;  of  experience,  who  knows  the  House,  i  S  forms,  and  all 
that.  There  is  only  one  man  indicated.  You  can  not  doubt 
about  him.  I  told  you  honors  would  bo  tumbling  on  j-our 
head.  You  are  the  man  ;  you  are  to  have  one  of  the  highest 
offices  in  the  cabinet,  and  lead  the  Ilouse  of  Commons." 

"  Peel  declines,"  said  Ferrars,  speaking  slowly  and  shaking 
his  head.     "  That  is  very  serious." 

"  For  himself,"  said  Zenobia,  "  not  for  you.  It  makes  your 
fortune." 

"The  difficulties  seem  too  great  to  contend  with." 

''What  difficulties  are  there?  You  have  got  the  court, 
and  you  have  got  the  Ilouse  of  Lords.  Mr.  Pitt  was  not  nearly 
so  well  off,  for  he  had  never  been  in  office,  and  had  at  the  same 
time  to  fight  Lord  North  and  that  wicked  Mr.  Fox,  the  orator 


' 


38 


EXDYMIOX. 


of  the  day,  wliile  you  luivc  only  got  Lord  Altliorp,  who  can't 
order  his  OAvn  dinner." 

"I  am  in  amazement,"  said  Fcrrars,  and  he  seemed  phinged 
in  thonglit. 

"  But  you  do  not  hesitate  ?" 

"  Xo,"  he  said,  looking  up  dreamily,  for  he  had  been  lost 
in  ahsti-action  ;  and  speaking  in  a  measured  and  hollow  voice, 
''I  do  not  hesitate."  Then  resuming  a  brisk  tone  he  said, 
''This  is  not  an  age  for  hesitation;  if  asked,  I  will  do  the 
deed." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  tap  at  the  door,  and  the  groom 
of  the  chambers  brought  in  a  note  for  Mr.  Ferrars,  which  had 
been  forwarded  from  his  OAvn  residence,  and  which  requested 
his  presence  at  Apsley  House.  Having  read  it,  he  gave  it  to 
Zenobia,  who  exclaimed  with  delight,  "Do  not  lose  a  moment. 
I  am  so  glad  to  have  got  rid  of  Sir  Robert  with  his  doubts  and 
his  difficulties.     We  want  new  blood." 

That  was  a  wonderful  walk  for  "William  Ferrars,  from  St. 
James'  Square  to  Apsley  House.  As  he  moved  along,  he  was 
testing  his  courage  and  capacity  for  the  sharp  trials  that  awaited 
him.  He  felt  himself  not  unequal  to  conjunctures  in  which 
he  had  never  previously  indulged  even  in  imagination.  His 
had  been  an  ambii."  jus,  rather  than  a  soaring  spirit.  He  had 
never  contemplated  the  possession  of  power  except  under  the 
a?gis  of  some  commanding  chief.  Now  it  was  for  him  to  con- 
trol senates  and  guide  councils.  He  screwed  himself  up  to  the 
sticking-point.  Desperation  is  sometimes  as  powerful  an  in- 
spirer  as  genius. 

The  great  man  was  alone — calm,  easy,  and  courteous.  He 
hf.d  ;-ent  for  Mr.  Ferrars,  because  having  had  one  interview 
with  him,  1)1  which  his  cooperation  had  been  requested  in  the 
conduct  of  affairs,  the  Duke  thought  it  was  due  to  him  to  give 
him  the  earliest  intimation  of  the  change  of  circumstances. 
The  vote  of  the  House  of  Commons  on  the  motion  of  Lord 
Ebrington  had  placed  an  insurmountable  barrier  to  the  forma- 
tion of  a  government,  and  his  grace  had  accordingly  relin- 
quished the  commission  with  which  he  had  been  intrusted  by 
the  King. 


num. 


30 


lio  can't 
plunged 


ccn  lost 
w  voice, 
lie  said, 
L  do  the 


le  groom 
licli  liad 
equcsted 
ave  it  to 
moment, 
ubts  and 


from  St. 
^,  lie  was 
t  aAvaitcd 
in  which 
on.     His 

He  had 
the 

to  con- 
[ip  to  the 
il  an  in- 


Inder 


)us.     lie 

Interview 

jd  in  the 

to  give 

istances. 

Lord 

forma- 

fy  relin- 

isted  by 


of 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AvAiLiXG  himself  of  his  latch-key,  Ferrars  reentered  his 
home  unnoticed.  He  went  at  once  to  his  library,  and  locked 
tlie  door  of  the  apartment.  There,  sitting  before  his  desk,  ho 
buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  remained  in  that  posture  for 
;i  considerable  time. 

They  were  tumultuous  and  aAvf  ul  thoughts  that  passed  over 
his  brain.  The  dreams  of  a  life  were  dissipated,  and  he  had  to 
encounter  the  stern  reality  of  his  position — and  that  was  Ruin, 
lie  was  without  hope  and  without  resource.  His  debts  were 
vast ;  his  patrimony  was  a  fable ;  and  the  mysterious  inheri- 
tance of  his  wife  had  been  tampered  Avith.  The  elder  Ferrars 
had  left  an  insolvent  estate  ;  he  had  supported  his  son  liber- 
ally, but  latterly  from  his  son's  own  resources.  The  father 
had  made  himself  the  pi'incipal  trustee  of  the  son's  marriage 
settlement.  His  colleague,  a  relative  of  the  heiress,  had  died, 
and  care  was  taken  that  no  one  should  be  substituted  in  his 
stead.  All  this  had  been  discovered  by  Ferrars  on  his  father's 
death,  but  ambition  and  the  excitement  of  a  life  of  blended 
elation  and  peril  had  sustained  him  under  the  concussion. 
One  by  one  every  chance  had  vanished  :  first  his  private  means 
and  then  his  public  prospects  ;  he  liad  lost  office,  and  now  he 
was  about  to  lose  Parliament.  Ilis  wholo  position,  so  long, 
and  carefully,  and  skillfully  built  uj),  seemed  to  dissolve,  and 
dissipate  into  insignificant  fragments.  And  now  he  had  to 
break  the  situation  to  his  Avife.  She  Avas  to  become  the  un- 
prepared partner  of  the  secret  which  had  gnawed  at  his  heart 
for  years,  during  Avhicli  to  her  his  mien  had  often  been  smiling 
and  always  serene.  Mrs.  Ferrars  was  at  home,  and  alone,  in 
her  luxurious  boudoir,  and  he  went  to  her  at  once.  After 
years  of  dissimulation,  now  that  all  Avas  over,  Ferrars  could 
not  bear  the  suspense  of  four-and-tAventy  hours. 

It  was  difficult  to  bring  her  into  a  mood  of  mind  capable 
of  comprehending  a  tithe  of  Avhat  she  had  to  learn  :  and  yet 
tlie  darkest  part  of  the  tale  she  Avas  never  to  knoAv.  Mrs.  Fer- 
rars,  though   singularly  intuitive,   shrank  from  controA'crsy, 


li^ 


■i  li! 


|] 


lib 


«       ! 


40 


EXDYMIOX. 


and  settled  everything  by  contradiction  and  assertion.  Sl;o 
maintained  for  a  long  time  that  what  her  husband  communi- 
cated to  her  could  not  be  ;  that  it  was  absurd,  and  even  impos- 
sible. After  a  while,  she  talked  of  selling  her  diamonds  and 
reducing  her  equipages,  sacrificing  which  she  assumed  Avould 
put  everything  right.  And  when  she  found  her  husband  still 
grave  and  still  intimating  that  the  sacrifices  must  be  beyond 
all  this,  and  that  they  m.ust  prepare  for  the  life  and  habits  of 
another  social  sphere,  she  became  violent,  and  Avept,  and  de- 
clared her  wrontrs  ;  that  she  had  liccn  deceived  and  outraied 
and  infamously  treated. 

Kemcmbcring  how  long  and  with  what  apparent  serenity 
in  her  presence  he  had  endured  his  secret  woes,  and  liow  one 
of  the  principal  objects  of  his  life  had  ev-  ■"  ^een  to  guard  her 
even  from  a  shade  of  solicitude,  even  the  restrained  Ferrars 
was  affected  ;  his  countenance  changed  and  his  eye  became 
suffused.  When  she  observed  this,  she  suddenly  threw  her 
arms  round  his  neck,  and,  with  many  embraces,  amid  sighs 
and  tears,  exclaimed,  "Oh,  AYilliam  !  if  we  love  each  other, 
what  does  anything  signify  ?" 

And  what  could  anything  signify  under  such  circumstances 
and  on  such  conditions  ?  As  Ferrars  pressed  his  beautiful 
wife  to  his  heart,  he  remembered  only  his  early  love,  which 
seemed  entirely  to  revive.  Unconsciously  to  himself,  too,  he 
was  greatly  relieved  by  this  burst  of  tenderness  on  her  part, 
for  the  prospect  of  this  interview  had  been  mos!  di  tressful  to 
him.  "  My  darling,"  he  said,  "ours  is  not  a  case  2  '  ommon 
imprudence  or  misfortune.  "We  are  the  victims  of  ..  revolu- 
tion, and  we  must  bear  our  lot  as  becomes  us  under  such  cir- 
cumstances. Individual  misfortunes  are  merged  in  the  greater 
catastrophe  of  the  country." 

"That  is  the  true  view,"  said  his  wife  ;  "and,  after  all, 
the  poor  King  of  Franco  is  much  Avorsc  off  than  we  are.  How- 
ever, I  can  not  now  buy  the  Duchesse  of  Sevres'  lace,  which  I 
had  promised  her  to  do.  It  is  rather  awkward.  However, 
the  best  way  always  is  to  speak  the  truth.  I  must  tell  the 
duchess  I  am  powerless,  and  that  we  arc  the  victims  of  a  revo- 
lution, like  herself." 


DIGNITY  AND  ECOXOMY. 


41 


.  Slio 
imuni- 
impos- 
ids  and 
would 
id  still 
beyond 
[ibits  of 
md  do- 
utragcd 

serenity 
low  one 
ard  her 
Ferrars 
became 
irew  licr 
id  siglis 
li  other, 


Then  they  began  to  talk  ([uite  cozily  together  over  their 
prospects,  he  sitting  on  the  .'^ofa  by  her  side  and  holding  her 
hand.  Mrs.  Ferrars  would  net  liear  of  retiring  to  the  conti- 
nent. *'No,"  she  said,  with  all  lier  sanguine  vein  returning, 
'^  you  ahvays  used  to  say  I  brought  you  luck,  and  I  will  bring 
you  luck  yet.  There  must  be  a  reaction.  The  wheel  will  turn 
and  bring  round  our  friends  again.  Do  not  let  us  then  be  out 
of  the  way.  Your  claims  arc  immense.  They  must  do  some- 
thing for  you.  They  ought  to  give  you  India,  and  if  we  only 
set  our  mind  upon  it,  we  shall  get  it.  Depend  upon  it,  things 
are  not  so  bad  as  they  seem.  What  appear  to  be  calamities  arc 
often  the  sources  of  fortune.  I  would  much  sooner  that  you 
should  be  Governor-General  than  a  cabinet  minister.  That 
odious  House  of  Commons  is  very  wearisome.  I  am  not  sure 
any  constitution  can  bear  it  very  long.  I  am  not  sure  whether 
I  would  not  prefer  being  Governor-General  of  India  even  to 
being  Prime  Minister." 


nstanccs 
eautiful 
,  Avhicli 

too,  he 
cr  part, 
3ssful  to 

omnion 

rcvolu- 
uch  cii- 

greatcr 

Ifter  all, 

IIov/- 

rhich  I 

Lowovcv, 

tell  the 

a  rcvo- 


CIIAPTER  X. 

In  consequence  of  the  registration  under  the  Reform  Act 
it  was  not  possible  for  Parliament  to  be  dissolved,  and  an  appeal 
made  to  the  new  constituency,  until  the  end  of  the  year.  This 
was  advantageous  to  Mr.  Ferrars,  and  afforded  him  six  months 
of  personal  security  to  arrange  his  affairs.  Both  husband  and 
"wife  were  proud,  and  were  anxious  to  cpiit  the  world  with  dig- 
nity. All  were  so  busy  about  themselves  at  that  period,  and 
the  vicissitudes  of  life  between  continental  revolutions  and 
English  reform  so  various  and  extensive,  that  it  was  not  difli- 
cult  to  avoid  the  scrutiny  of  society.  Mrs.  Ferrars  broke  to  Ze- 
nobia  that,  as  her  husband  was  no  longer  to  bo  in  Parliament, 
they  had  resolved  to  retire  for  some  time  to  a  country  life, 
though,  as  Mr.  Ferrars  had  at  length  succeeded  in  impressing 
on  his  wife  that  their  future  income  was  to  be  counted  by  hun- 
dreds, instead  of  thousands,  it  was  difficult  for  her  to  realize  a 
rural  establishment  that  should  combine  dignity  and  economy. 


r^ 


42 


i^Lormoy. 


I        ! 


i: 


f    "ii 
:i 


r 


Without,  however,  absolutely  alleging  tlic  cause,  she  contrived 
to  baffle  the  various  propositions  of  tliis  kind  Avhich  the  ener- 
getic Zcnobia  made  to  her,  an  J  while  she  listened  with  appar- 
ent interest  to  accounts  of  deer  park.-:,  and  expensive  shooting, 
and  delightful  neighborhoods,  would  just  exclaim,  "  Cliarm- 
ing !  but  rather  more,  I  fancy,  than  we  require,  for  we  mean 
to  be  very  quiet  till  my  girl  is  presented." 

That  young  lady  was  now  thirteen,  and  though  her  parents 
were  careful  to  say  nothing  in  her  presence  which  would  ma- 
terially reveal  their  real  situation,  for  Avhich  they  intended  very 
gradually  to  prepare  her,  the  scrutinizing  powers  Avith  which 
nature  had  prodigally  in\'estcd  their  daughter  Avcrc  not  easily 
baffled.  She  asked  no  questions,  but  nothing  seemed  to  escape 
the  penetrative  glance  of  that  dark  blue  eye,  calm  amid  all  the 
mystery,  and  tolerating  rather  than  sharing  the  frequent  em- 
brace of  her  parents.  After  a  Avhile  her  brother  came  home 
from  Eton,  to  Avhicli  he  was  never  to  return.  A  few  days  be- 
fore this  CA^ent  she  became  unusually  restless,  and  CA'en  agitated. 
When  he  arrived,  neither  Mr,  nor  Mrs.  Ferrars  Avas  at  home. 
He  knocked  gayly  :at  the  door,  a  schoolboy's  knock,  and  was 
hardly  in  the  hall  when  his  name  was  called,  and  he  caught 
the  face  of  his  sister  leaning  over  the  balustrade  of  the  landing- 
place.  He  ran  upstairs  Avith  Avondrous  speed,  and  Avas  in  an 
instant  locked  in  her  arms.  She  kissed  him  and  kissed  him 
again,  and  when  he  tried  to  speak,  she  stojiped  his  mouth  Avitli 
kisses.  And  then  she  said,  "^  Something  has  happened.  What 
it  is  I  can  not  make  out,  but  we  are  to  haA^e  no  more  ponies." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

At  the  foot  of  the  Berkshire  downs,  and  itself  on  a  gentle 
elevation,  there  is  an  old  hall  Avith  gable  ends  and  lattice  Avin- 
doAVS,  standing  in  grounds  Avliich  once  Avere  stately,  and  Avhere 
there  are  yet  glade-like  terraces  of  ycAV  trees,  Avliich  giA'e  ,iu  air 
of  dignity  to  a  neglected  scene.  In  the  front  of  the  hall  huge 
gates  of  iron,  highly  Avrought,  and  bearing  an  ancient  date  as 


i 


nURSTLEY 


43 


;rived 
cner- 
ippar- 
oting, 
harm- 
mean 

arents 
(1  ma- 
d  very 
wliicli 
i  easily 
escape 
all  the 
snt  em- 
3  home 
[ays  be- 
^itated. 
;  home, 
ind  was 
cauglit 
.nding- 
is  in  an 
ed  liini 
til  with 
What 


bnies 


>5 


o'cntle 
Ice  win- 
where 
Je  fiu  air 
ill  imgo 
date  as 


well  as  the  shield  of  a  noble  houiic,  opened  on  a  village  green, 
round  which  were  clustered  the  cottages  of  the  parish  with  only 
one  exception,  and  that  was  the  vicarage  house,  a  modern  build- 
ing, not  without  taste,  and  surrounded  by  a  small  but  brilliant 
garden.  The  church  was  contiguous  to  the  hall,  and  had  been 
raised  by  the  lord  on  a  portion  of  liis  domain.  Behind  the 
hall  and  its  inclosure,  the  country  was  common  land  but  pic- 
turesque. It  had  once  been  a  beech  forest,  and  though  the 
timber  had  been  greatly  cleared,  the  green  land  was  still  occa- 
sionally dotted,  sometimes  with  groups  and  sometimes  witli 
single  trees,  Avhile  the  juniper  which  here  abounded,  and  rose 
to  a  great  height,  gave  a  rich  wildness  to  the  scene,  and  sus- 
tained its  forest  character. 

llurstley  had  for  many  years  been  deserted  by  the  family 
to  which  it  belonged.  Indeed,  it  was  rather  difficult  to  say  to 
whom  it  did  belong.  A  dreary  fate  had  awaited  an  ancient, 
and,  in  its  time,  even  not  immemorable  home.  It  had  fallen 
info  chancerv,  and  for  the  last  half  century  had  either  been 
uninliabited  or  let  to  strangers.  Mr.  Fcrrars'  lawyer  was  in 
the  chancery  suit,  and  knew  all  about  it.  The  difficulty  of 
finding  a  tenant  for  such  a  place,  never  easy,  was  increased  by 
its  remoteness  from  any  railway  communication,  Avhich  was 
now  beginning  to  figure  as  an  important  element  in  such  ar- 
rangements. The  Master  in  Chancery  would  be  satisfied  with 
a  nominal  rent,  provided  only  he  could  obtain  a  family  oi  con- 
sideration to  hold  under  him.  Mr.  Fcrrars  was  i)ersuaded  to 
go  down  alone  to  rcconnoiter  the  place.  It  pleased  him.  It 
was  aristocratic,  yet  singularly  inexpensive.  The  house  con- 
tained an  immense  hall,  which  reached  the  roof,  and  which 
would  have  become  a  baronial  mansion,  and  a  vast  staircase  in 
keeping ;  but  the  living  rooms  were  moderate,  even  small,  in 
dimensions,  and  not  numerous.  The  land  he  was  expected  to 
take  consisted  only  of  a  few  meadoAVs,  which  he  could  let  if 
necessary,  and  a  single  laborer  could  manage  the  garden. 

^Mrs.  Ferrars  was  so  delighted  with  the  description  of  the 
galleried  hall,  that  she  resolved  on  their  taking  llurstley  Avith- 
out  even  her  previously  visiting  it.  The  only  things  she  cared 
for  in  the  country  were  a  hall  and  a  pony-chair. 


4i 


EXDYMIOX. 


1    '\ 


I 


I     ! 


All  the  carriages  were  sold,  and  all  the  servants  discharged. 
Two  or  three  maid-servants  and  a  man  vrlio  must  he  found  in 
the  country,  who  could  attend  tiiem  at  tahle,  and  valet  alike 
liis  master  and  the  pony,  was  the  establishment  which  was  to 
succeed  the  crowd  of  retainers  who  had  so  long  lounged  away 
Iheir  lives  in  the  saloons  of  Hill  Street,  and  the  groves  and 
gardens  of  Wimbledon. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ferrra-s  and  their  daughter  traveled  down 
to  Ilurstley  in  a  po°>chaise  ;  Endymion,  with  the  servants, 
was  sent  by  the  fcLige-coach,  which  accomplished  the  journey 
of  sixty  miles  in  ten  hours.  Myra  said  little  during  the 
journey,  but  an  expression  of  ineffable  contempt  and  dis- 
gust seemed  permanent  on  her  countenance.  Sometimes  she 
shrugged  her  shoulders,  sometimes  she  raised  her  eyebrows, 
and  sometimes  she  turned  up  her  nose.  And  then  she  gave  a 
sigh  ;  but  it  was  a  sigh  not  of  sorrow,  but  of  impatience.  Her 
parents  lavished  attentions  on  her  which  she  accepted  without 
recognition,  only  occasionally  observing  that  she  wished  she 
Iiad  gone  with  Endymion. 

It  was  dusk  when  they  arrived  at  Ilurstley,  and  the  melan- 
t^i'-ly  hour  did  not  tend  to  raise  their  spirits.  However,  the 
gardener's  wife  had  lit  a  good  fire  of  beech- wood  in  the  draw- 
ing-room, and  threw  as  they  entered  a  pannier  of  cones  upon 
the  logs,  which  crackled  and  cheerfully  blazed  away.  Even 
Myra  seemed  interested  by  the  novelty  of  the  wood  fire  and 
the  iron  dogs.  She  remained  by  their  side  looking  abstractedly 
on  the  expiring  logs,  while  her  parents  wandered  about  the 
]iouse  and  examined  or  prepared  the  requisite  arrangements. 
AVhile  they  Avere  yet  absent,  there  was  some  noise  and  a  con- 
siderable bustle  in  the  hall.  Endymion  and  his  retinue  had 
arrived.  Tlien  Myra  immediately  roused  herself,  and  listened 
liki  a  startled  deer.  But  the  moment  she  cr.ught  his  voice,  an 
expression  of  rapture  suffused  her  countenance.  It  beamed 
with  vivacity  and  delight.  She  rushed  away,  pushed  through 
the  servants  and  the  luggage,  embraced  him  and  said,  "We 
will  go  over  the  house  and  see  our  rooms  together." 

"Wandering  without  a  guide  and  making  many  mistakes, 
fortunately  they  soon  met  their  parents.     Mrs.  Ferrars  good- 


AX  A  UTUMXAL  MORX. 


45 


uivgcd. 
imd  in 
■t  alike 
was  to 
d  away 
res  and 

1  down 
n-vant?, 
journey 
ing  the 
lid  dis- 
.mes  she 
rchrows, 
c  gave  a 
!C.     Her 
without 
;lied  she 

c  mchui- 
jver.  the 
ic  draw- 
ees upon 
,     Even 
fire  and 
ractcdly 
out  the 
ements. 
a  Con- 
ine had 
listened 
I'oice,  an 
beamed 
through 
d,  "Wo 

listalvcs, 
Irs  good- 


naturedly  recommenced  her  labors  of  inspection,  and  explained 
all  her  plans.  There  was  a  very  pretty  room  for  Endymion, 
and  to-morrow  it  was  to  be  very  comfortable.  He  was  quite 
l)leased.  Then  they  were  shown  Myra's  room,  but  she  said 
nothing-  standing  by  with  a  sweet  scoff,  as  it  were,  lingering 
on  her  lips,  while  her  mother  disserted  on  all  the  excellences 
of  the  chamber.  Then  they  were  summoned  to  tea.  The 
gardener's  wife  was  quite  a  leading  spirit,  and  had  prepared 
everything ;  the  curtains  were  drawn,  and  the  room  lighted  ; 
an  urn  hissed  ;  there  were  piles  of  bread  and  butter  and  a  pyra- 
mid of  buttered  toast.  It  was  wonderful  what  an  air  of 
comfort  had  been  conjured  up  in  this  dreary  mansion,  and  it 
was  impossible  for  the  travelers,  however  wearied  or  chagrined, 
to  be  insensible  to  the  convenience  and  cheerfulness  of  all 
around  them. 

AVlien  the  meal  was  over,  the  children  sat  together  in  whis- 
l)cring  tattle.  Mrs.  Ecrrars  had  left  the  room  to  see  if  all  was 
ready  for  their  hour  of  retirement,  and  Mr.  Ecrrars  was  walk- 
ing up  and  down  the  room,  absorbed  in  thought. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it  all,  Endymion?"  whispered 
^[yra  to  her  twin. 

"I  rather  like  it,"  he  replied. 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  glance  of  blended  love  and  mock- 
cry,  and  then  she  said  in  his  ear,  ''  I  feel  as  if  we  had  fallen 
from  some  star." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Tee  m^'vrow  brought  a  bright  autumnal  morn,  and  every 
one  woke,  if  not  happy,  interested.  There  was  much  to  see 
and  much  to  do.  The  dew  was  so  heavy  that  the  children  were 
not  allowed  to  quit  the  broad  gravel  walk  that  bounded  one 
side  of  the  old  house,  but  they  caught  enticing  vistas  of  the 
gloaniy  glades,  and  the  abounding  light  and  shade  softened  and 
adorned  everything.  Every  sight  and  sound,  too,  was  novel, 
and  from  the  rabbit  that  started  out  of  the  grove,  stared  at 


fr?? 


40 


EXD  YMTOy. 


!« 


!     ■ 


1 


V,     ! 


them  and  then  disappeared,  to  tlio  jays  cliattering  in  tlie  more 
distant  woods,  all  was  wonderment  at  least  for  a  week.  They 
saAv  sfpiirrels  for  the  first  time,  and  for  the  first  time  beheld  a 
liedgehog.  Their  parents  were  busy  in  the  house  ;  Mr.  Fer- 
rars  unpacking  and  settling  his  books,  and  his  wife  arranging 
some  few  articles  of  ornamental  furniture  that  had  been  saved 
from  the  London  wreck,  and  rendering  their  usual  room  of 
residence  as  refined  as  was  in  her  power.  It  is  astonishing  how 
much  effect  a  woman  of  taste  can  produce  with  a  pretty  chair  or 
two,  full  of  fancy  and  color,  a  table  clothed  with  a  few  books, 
some  family  miniatures,  a  workbag  of  rich  material,  and  some 
toys  that  avc  ncYcr  desert.  '*I  have  not  much  to  work  with," 
said  Mrs.  Ferrars,  with  a  sigh,  "  but  I  think  the  coloring  is 
pretty." 

On  the  second  day  after  their  arrival,  the  rector  and  his 
wife  made  them  a  visit.  Mr.  Penruddock  was  a  naturalist,  and 
had  written  the  history  of  his  parish.  He  had  escaped  being 
an  Oxford  don  by  being  preferred  early  to  this  college  living, 
but  he  had  married  the  daughter  of  a  don,  who  appreciated  the 
grand  manners  of  their  new  acquaintances,  and  who,  when  she 
had  overcome  their  first  rather  awe-inspiring  impression,  be- 
came communicative  and  amused  them  much  with  her  details 
respecting  the  little  world  in  which  they  were  now  to  live. 
She  could  not  conceal  her  wonderment  at  the  beauty  of  the 
tAvins,  though  they  were  no  longer  habited  in  those  dresses 
whicli  had  once  astonished  even  Mayfair. 

Part  of  the  scheme  of  the  new  life  wa.s  the  education  of  the 
children  by  their  parents.  Mr.  Ferrars  had  been  a  distin- 
guished scholar,  and  was  still  a  good  one.  He  was  patient 
and  methodical,  and  deeply  interested  in  his  contemplated 
task.  So  far  as  disjDOsition  was  concerned  the  joupil  was  not 
disappointing.  Endymion  was  of  an  affectionate  disposition 
and  inclined  to  treat  his  father  with  deference.  He  was  gen- 
tle and  docile  ;  but  he  did  not  acquire  knowledge  with  facility, 
and  was  remarkably  deficient  in  that  previous  information  on 
which  his  father  counted.  The  other  pupil  was  of  a  different 
temperament.  She  learned  with  a  glance,  and  remembered 
with  extraordinary  tenacity  everything  she  had  acquired.    But 


POLITICAL   COMPOSITION. 


47 


le  more 
They 
lelield  a 
[r.  Fer- 
I'anging 
n  saved 
room  of 
mg  how 
chair  or 
r  books, 
iid  some 
V  with," 
loring  is 

and  his 
list,  and 
ed  being 
e  living, 
lated  the 
k'hen  she 
sion,  be- 
r  details 

to  live. 
y  of  the 
!  dresses 

in  of  the 
distin- 
patient 
[mplated 
was  not 
[position 
ras  gen- 
I  facility, 
lation  on 
lliffercnt 
}mbered 
But 


■■a 


slio  Avas  neither  tender  nor  deferential,  and  to  induce  her  to 
study  you  could  not  depend  on  the  afioctions,  but  only  on  her 
intelligence.  So  she  Avas  often  fitful,  capricious,  or  provoking, 
and  her  mother,  Avho,  though  accomplished  and  eager,  had 
neither  the  method  nor  the  self-restraint  of  Mr.  Ferrars,  was 
often  annoyed  and  irritable.  Then  there  were  scenes,  or  rather 
cbulHtions  on  one  side,  for  Myra  was  ahvays  unmoved  and 
enraging  from  her  total  want  of  sensibility.  Sometimes  it 
became  necessary  to  appeal  to  ^fr.  Ferrars,  and  her  manner  to 
her  father,  though  devoid  of  feeling,  was  at  least  not  contemp- 
tuous. Nevertheless,  on  the  whole  the  scheme,  as  time  went 
on,  promised  to  be  not  unsuccessful.  Endymion,  though  not 
rapidly,  advanced  surely,  and  made  some  amends  for  the  years 
tluit  had  been  wasted  in  fashionable  private  schools  and  iiie 
tlicn  fri\olity  of  Eton.  Myra,  Avho,  notwithstanding  her  early 
days  of  indulgence,  had  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  admirable 
governesses,  was  well  grounded  in  more  than  one  modern  lan- 
guage, and  she  soon  mastered  them.  And  in  due  time,  though 
much  after  the  period  on  which  we  are  low  touching,  she  an- 
nounced her  desire  to  become  acquainted  with  German,  in  those 
days  a  much  rarer  acquirement  than  at  present.  Her  mother 
could  not  help  her  in  this  respect,  and  that  was  perhaps  an 
additional  reason  for  the  study  of  this  tongue,  for  Myra  was 
impatient  of  tuition,  and  not  unjustly  full  of  self-conscious- 
ness. She  took  also  the  keenest  interest  in  the  progress  of  her 
brother,  made  herself  acquainted  with  all  his  lessons,  and  some- 
times helped  him  in  their  achievement. 

Tliough  they  had  absolutely  no  acquaintance  of  any  kind 
except  the  rector  and  his  family,  life  Avas  not  dull.  Mr.  Fer- 
rars was  always  employed,  for  besides  the  education  of  his 
children,  he  had  systematically  resumed  a  habit  in  which  he 
had  before  occasionally  indulged,  and  that  Avas  political  com- 
position. He  had  in  his  lofty  days  been  the  author  of  more 
than  one  essay,  in  the  most  celebrated  periodical  publication 
of  the  Tories,  Avhich  had  commanded  attention  and  obtained 
celebrity.  Many  a  public  man  of  high  rank  and  reputation, 
and  even  more  than  one  Prime  Minister,  had  contributed  in 
their  time  to  its  famous  pages,  but  never  Avithout  being  paid. 


■  ( 


i 


I  t 


48 


EXDYMIOy. 


It  was  tlic  organic  law  of  lliis  puLlicatiou,  tliat  gnituitous  con- 
tributions should  never  be  admitted.  And  in  this  principle 
there  was  as  much  wisdom  as  pride.  Celebrated  statesmen 
Avould  point  with  complacency  to  the  snuiT-box  or  the  picture 
which  had  been  purchased  by  their  literary  labor,  and  there 
was  more  than  one  bracelet  on  the  arm  of  ^Mrs.  Ferrars,  and 
more  than  one  genet  in  her  stable,  which  had  been  the  reward 
of  a  profound  or  a  slashing  article  by  William. 

What  had  been  the  occasional  diversion  of  political  life  was 
now  to  be  the  source  of  regular  income.  Though  living  in 
profound  solitude,  Ferrars  had  a  vast  sum  of  political  experi- 
ence to  draw  upon,  and  though  his  training  and  general  intel- 
ligence were  in  reality  too  exclusive  and  academical  for  the 
stirring  age  which  had  now  opened,  and  on  Avhicli  he  had  un- 
happily fallen,  they  nevertheless  suited  the  audience  to  which 
they  were  particularly  addressed.  Ilis  Corinthian  style,  in 
which  the  Maenad  of  Mr.  Burke  was  habited  in  the  last  mode 
of  Almack's,  his  sarcasms  against  the  illiterate  and  his  invec- 
tives against  the  low,  his  descriptions  of  the  country  life  of  the 
aristocracy  contrasted  with  the  horrors  of  the  guillotine,  his 
Horatian  allusions  and  his  Virgilian  passages,  combined  to  pro- 
duce a  whole  which  equally  fascinated  and  alarmed  his  readers. 

These  contributions  occasioned  some  communications  with 
the  editor  or  publisher  of  the  Review,  which  were  not  without 
interest.  Parcels  came  down  by  the  coach,  inclosing  not  mere- 
ly proof  sheets,  but  frequently  ncAv  books — the  pamphlet  of  the 
hour  before  it  was  published,  or  a  volume  of  discoveries  in  un- 
known lands.  It  was  a  link  to  the  world  they  had  quitted 
without  any  painful  associations.  Otherwise  their  communi- 
cations with  the  outer  world  were  slight  and  rare.  It  is  diffi- 
cult for  us  who  live  in  an  age  of  railroads,  telegraplis,  penny 
posts  and  penny  newspapers,  to  realize  how  uneventful,  how 
limited  in  thought  and  feeling,  as  well  as  in  incident,  was  the 
life  of  an  English  family  of  retired  habits  and  limited  means, 
only  forty  years  ago.  The  whole  world  seemed  to  be  morally, 
as  well  as  materially,  "adscript!  glebae." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ferrars  did  not  wish  to  move,  but  had  they 
so  wished,  it  would  have  been  under  any  circumstances  for 


EXCURSIOXS  OF  DISCOVERY. 


4[> 


tou3  con- 
principlo 
Htiitcsmcn 
[ic  picture 
and  there 
rriirs,  and 
;lie  reward 

;al  life  was 
L  living  in 
ical  expcri- 
ncnil  intel- 
3al  for  the 
he  had  un- 
3C  to  which 
.n  style,  in 
c  last  mode 
1  his  invcc- 
y  life  of  the 
illotine,  his 
ined  to  pro- 
lis  readers. 
;ations  with 
not  without 
o-  not  mere- 
phlet  of  the 
eries  in  nn- 
Imd  quitted 
r  communi- 
It  is  dilli- 
aphs,  penny 
entful,  how 
cnt,  was  the 
;ted  means, 
be  morally, 

had  they 
Lstances  for 


them  a  laborious  and  costly  affair.  The  only  ne\vsi)aper  they 
saw  was  the  *'  Evening  Mail,"  which  arrived  three  times  a  week, 
and  was  the  **  Times  "  newspaper  with  all  its  contents  except 
its  advertisements.  As  the  "  Times  "  newspaper  had  the  credit 
of  mainly  contributing  to  the  passing  of  Lord  Grey's  Reform 
Bill,  and  was  then  wliispered  to  enjoy  t^ie  incredible  sale  of 
twelve  thousand  copies  daily,  Mr.  Ferrars  assumed  that  in  its 
columns  he  would  trace  the  most  authentic  intimations  of  com- 
ing events.  The  cost  of  postage  was  then  so  heavy,  tluit  do- 
mestic correspondence  was  necessarily  very  restricted.  But 
this  vexatious  limitation  hardly  applied  to  the  Ferrars.  They 
had  never  paid  postage.  They  were  born  and  had  always  lived 
in  the  franking  world,  and  although  Mr.  Ferrars  had  now  him- 
self lost  the  privilege,  both  official  and  parliamentary,  still  all 
their  correspondents  were  frankers,  and  they  addressed  their 
replies  without  compunction  to  those  who  were  free.  Never- 
theless, it  was  astonishing  how  little  in  their  ncAv  life  they  cared 
to  avail  themselves  of  this  correspondence.  At  first,  Zcnobia 
wrote  every  week,  almost  every  day,  to  Mrs.  Ferrars,  but  after 
a  time  Mrs.  Ferrars,  though  at  first  pleased  by  the  attention, 
felt  its  recognition  a  burden.  Then  Zenobia,  wiio  at  length, 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  had  taken  a  gloomy  view  of  affairs, 
relapsed  into  a  long  silence,  and  in  fact  had  nearly  forgotten 
the  Ferrars,  for,  as  she  herself  used  to  say,  "  IIow  can  one  rec- 
ollect people  whom  one  never  meets  ?  " 

In  the  mean  time,  for  we  have  been  a  little  anticipating  in 
our  last  remarks,  the  family  at  Ilurstley  were  much  pleased 
with  the  country  they  now  inhabited.  They  made  excursions 
of  discovery  into  the  interior  of  their  world,  Mrs.  Ferrars  and 
Myra  in  the  pony-chair,  her  husband  and  Endymion  walking 
by  their  side,  and  Endymion  sometimes  taking  liis  sister's  seat 
against  his  wish,  but  in  deference  to  her  irresistible  will.  Even 
Myra  could  hardly  be  insensible  to  the  sylvan  wildness  of  the 
old  chase,  and  the  romantic  villages  in  the  wooded  clefts  of  the 
clowns.  As  for  Endymion  he  was  delighted,  and  it  seemed  to 
him,  perhaps  he  unconsciously  felt  it,  that  this  larger  and 
more  frequent  experience  of  nature  was  a  compensation  for 
much  which  they  had  lost. 
3 


» 


'ii 

II 


50 


EXDYMION'. 


After  a  time,  wlicn  they  liad  become  a  little  acquainted 
with  their  simple  neighborhood,  and  the  lirst  impression  of 
wildness  and  novelty  had  worn  out,  the  twins  were  permitted 
to  wjJk  together  alone,  though  within  certain  limits.  The 
village  ji.nd  its  vicinity  was  quite  free,  but  they  were  not  per- 
mitted to  enter  the  woods,  and  not  to  wander  on  the  chase  out 
of  sight  of  the  mansion.  These  walks  alone  with  Endymion 
were  the  greatest  pleasure  of  his  sister.  She  delighted  to  niako 
him  tell  her  of  his  life  at  Eton,  and  if  she  ever  sighed  it  was 
when  she  lamented  that  his  residence  there  had  been  so  short. 
Then  they  found  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  interest  and  sym- 
pathy in  the  past.  They  wondered  if  they  ever  should  have 
ponies  again.  "  I  think  not,"  said  Myra,  *'and  yet  how  merry 
to  scamper  together  over  this  chase  ! " 

*'But  they  would  not  let  us  go,"  said  Endymion,  ''without 
a  groom." 

'*  A  groom!"  exclaimed  Myra,  i  an  elfish  laugh;  '*I 
believe,  if  the  truth  were  really  known,  we  ought  to  be  making 
our  own  beds  and  washing  our  own  dinner  plates. " 

"  And  arc  you  sorry,  Myra,  for  all  that  has  happened  ? " 
asked  Endymion. 

"  I  hardly  know  what  has  happened.  They  keep  it  very 
close.  But  I  am  too  astonished  to  be  sorry.  Besides,  what  is 
the  use  of  whimpering  ?  " 

''  I  cried  very  much  one  day,"  said  Endymion. 

"All !  you  are  soft,  dear  darling.  I  never  cried  in  my  life, 
except  once  with  rage." 

At  Christmas  a  new  character  appeared  on  the  stage,  the 
rector's  son,  Nigel.  lie  had  completed  a  year  with  a  privatj 
tutor,  and  was  on  the  eve  of  commencing  his  first  term  at 
Oxford,  being  eighteen,  nearly  five  years  older  than  the  twins. 
He  was  tall,  with  a  countenance  of  remarkable  intelligence  and 
power,  though  still  softened  by  the  innocence  and  bloom  of 
boyhood.  He  was  destined  to  be  a  clergyman.  The  twins 
were  often  thrown  into  his  society,  for  though  too  old  to  be 
their  mere  companion,  his  presence  was  an  excuse  for  Mrs. 
Penruddock  more  frequently  joining  them  in  their  strolls,  and 
under  her  auspices  their  wanderings  had  no  limit,  except  the 


FARMER   TnORXnERRY. 


51 


icquaiutctl 
n'cssiun  of 
permitted 
lits.  Tlie 
i-e  not  per- 
!  chase  out 
Endymioii 
3d  to  niakc 
lied  it  was 
n  so  short, 
and  sym- 
lould  have 
how  merry 

,  ''without 

hmgh;  "I 
he  making 

ippcned  ?  " 

■ep  it  very 
s,  what  is 


in  my  life, 

stage,  the 
a  private 
t  term  at 
the  twins, 
jence  and 
Ibloom  of 
[he  twins 
lold  to  bo 
for  Mrs. 
L'olls,  and 
icept  the 


Fhortncss  of  tlic  days  ;  but  they  found  some  compensation  for 
tliis  in  their  fre«iuent  visits  to  the  rectory,  which  was  a  cheerful 
and  iisrroeablc  home,  full  of  stuffed  birds,  and  dried  phmts,  and 
marveious  fislies,  and  other  innocent  trophies  and  triumphs 
over  nature. 


CHAPTER  XII I. 

The  tenant  of  the  Manor  Farm  Avas  a  good  specimen  of  his 
class;  a  thorough  Saxon,  ruddy  and  bright  visagcd,  with  an 
athletic  though  rather  bulky  frame,  hardened  by  exposure  to 
the  seasons  and  constant  exercise.  Although  he  was  tlie  tenant 
of  several  hundro  .  acres,  he  had  an  eye  to  the  main  chance  in 
little  things,  whicli  is  a  characteristic  of  farmers,  but  he  was 
good-natured  and  obliging,  and  while  he  foraged  their  pony, 
furnished  their  woodyard  with  logs  and  fagots,  and  supplied 
them  from  his  dairy,  he  gratuitously  performed  for  tlie  family 
at  the  hall  many  other  offices  whicli  tended  to  their  comfort 
and  convenience,  but  which  cost  him  nothing. 

Mr.  Fcrrars  liked  to  have  a  chat  every  now  and  then  with 
Farmer  Thornberry,  who  had  a  shrewd  and  idiomatic  style  of 
expressing  his  limited,  but  in  its  way  complete,  experience  of 
men  and  things,  which  was  amusing  and  interesting  to  a  man 
of  tlic  world  whose  knowledge  of  rural  life  was  mainly  derived 
from  grand  shooting  parties  at  great  houses. 

The  pride  and  torment  of  Farmer  Tliornberry's  life  was  his 
onlv  child,  Job. 

'*  I  gave  him  the  best  of  educations,"  said  tl.o  fai lucr  ;  ''  he 
had  a  much  better  chance  than  I  had  myself,  for  I  do  not  pre- 
tend to  be  a  scholar,  and  never  was  ;  and  yet  I  can  not  make 
head  or  tail  of  him.  I  wish  you  would  speak  to  uim  some  day, 
sir.  lie  goes  against  the  land,  and  yet  we  have  been  on  it  for 
three  generations,  and  have  nothing  to  complain  of  ;  and  he  is 
a  good  farmer  too,  is  Job,  none  bettor  ;  a  little  too  fond  of 
experimenting,  but  then  he  is  young.  But  I  am  very  much 
afraid  he  will  leave  me.     I  tliink  it  is  this  new  thing  the  big- 


m 


EXDYMIOy. 


i 


:*ll  I 


I! 


I 


' 


Avigs  luive  set  up  in  Loiiclon  tluit  lias  put  liim  wrong,  for  he  \s 
always  reading  their  papers." 

"  And  what  is  that  ?  "  said  Mr.  Ferrars. 

*^  Well,  they  call  themselves  the  Society  for  the  DilTusioii 
of  Knowledge,  and  Lord  Brougham  is  at  the  head  of  it." 

*' Ah  !  he  is  a  dangerous  man,"  said  Mr.  Ferrars. 

"Do  you  know,  I  think  he  is,"  said  Farmer  Thornhcrry, 
very  seriously,  *'  and  by  this  token — he  says  a  knowledge  of 
chemistry  is  necessary  for  the  cultivation  of  the  soil." 

''  Brougham  is  a  man  who  would  say  anything,"  said  Mr. 
Ferrars,  "and  of  one  thing  yoi.  may  be  quite  certain,  that 
there  is  no  subject  which  Lord  Brougham  knows  thoroughly. 
I  liave  proved  that,  and  if  you  ever  have  time  some  winter 
evening  to  read  something  on  the  matter,  I  will  lend  you  a 
number  of  the  '  Quarterly  Keview,'  which  might  interest  you." 

"I  wish  you  Avould  lend  it  to  Job,"  said  the  farmer. 

Mr.  Ferrars  found  Job  not  so  manageable  in  controversy  as 
his  father.  His  views  were  peculiar,  and  his  conclusions  cer- 
tain. He  had  more  than  a  smattering  too  of  political  economy, 
a  kind  of  knowledge  which  Mr.  Ferrars  viewed  with  suspicion  ; 
for  though  he  had  himself  been  looked  upon  as  enlightened 
in  this  respect  in  the  last  years  of  Lord  Liverpool,  when  Lord 
Wallace  and  Mr.  Tluskisson  were  astonishing  the  world,  ho 
had  relapsed,  after  the  schism  of  the  Tory  party,  into  ortho- 
doxy, and  was  satisfied  that  the  tenets  of  the  economists  were 
mere  theories,  or  could  only  be  reduced  into  practice  by  revo- 
lution. 

"  But  it  is  a  pleasant  life,  that  of  a  farmer,"  said  Mr.  Fer- 
rars to  Job. 

"  Yes,  but  life  should  be  something  more  than  pleasant," 
said  Job,  who  always  looked  discontoutcd  ;  "an  ox  in  a  pasture 
has  a  pleasant  life. " 

"Well,  and  why  should  it  not  bo  a  profitable  one,  too  ?" 
said  Mr.  Ferrars. 

"  I  do  not  see  my  way  to  that,"  said  Job,  moodily  ;  "  there 
is  not  much  to  be  got  out  of  the  land  at  any  time,  and  still  less 
on  the  terms  we  hold  it." 

"  But  you  are  not  high-rented  !" 


JOB'S  opixioys. 


53 


,  for  he  IS 


Diffusiou 
it." 

lornbcrry, 

.vlcdgc  of 
1 

'  said  Mr. 
tain,  that 
loroughly. 
me  winter 
end  you  a 
;rest  you." 
ler. 

:roycrsy  as 

Lisions  cer- 

i  economy, 

suspicion ; 

ilightcncd 

hen  Lord 

world,  ho 

ito  ortho- 

nists  were 

e  by  rcvo- 

Mr.  Fcr- 

)leasant," 
a  pasture 

10,  too?" 

''  there 
still  less 


1 


• 


"  Oil,  rent  is  nothing,  if  everything  else  were  right,  but 
notliing  is  right,"  said  Job.  "  In  the  lirst  place,  a  farmer  is 
ilio  only  trader  who  has  no  security  for  his  cajiital." 

''All !  you  want  a  lease  ?  " 

"  I  should  bo  very  sorry  to  have  a  lease  like  any  that  I  have 
seen,"  replied  Job.  *'  We  had  one  once  in  our  famil}-,  and  wo 
keep  it  as  a  curiosity.  It  is  ten  skins  long,  and  more  tyranni- 
cal nonsense  was  never  engrossed  by  man." 

"  But  your  family,  I  believe,  has  been  on  this  estate  for 
generations  now,"  said  Mr.  I'crrars,  "and  they  have  done  well." 

"■  They  have  done  about  as  well  as  their  stock.  They  have 
existed,"  said  Job  ;  ''  nothing  more." 

*•  Your  father  always  gives  me  (|uito  the  idea  of  a  prosper- 
ous man,"  said  Mr.  Ferrars. 

''  "Whether  he  be  or  not  I  am  sure  I  can  not  say,"  said  Job  ; 
"  for  as  neither  he  nor  any  of  his  predecessors  ever  kept  any 
accounts,  it  is  rather  difficult  to  ascertain  their  exact  condition. 
So  long  as  he  lif.s  money  enough  in  his  pocket  to  pay  his  labor- 
ers and  buy  a  little  stock,  my  father,  like  every  British  farmer, 
is  content.  The  fact  is,  he  is  a  serf  as  much  as  his  men,  and 
until  we  got  rid  of  feudalism  he  will  remain  so." 

*•  These  are  strong  pinions,"  said  Mr.  Ferrars,  drawing 
himself  up,  and  looking  a  little  cold. 

'•  Yes,  but  they  will  make  their  way,"  said  Job.  *'  So  far 
as  I  myself  am  concerned,  I  do  not  much  care  what  ha])pens  to 
the  land,  for  I  do  not  mean  to  remain  on  it ;  but  I  care  for  tlie 
country.  For  the  sake  of  the  country  I  should  like  to  see  the 
wliole  thing  upset." 

"  What  thing  ?"  asked  :Mr.  Ferrars. 

"Feudalism,"  said  Job.  '^  I  should  like  to  see  this  estate 
manjiged  on  the  same  principles  as  they  do  their  great  estab- 
lishments in  the  north  of  England.  Instead  of  feudalism,  I 
would  substitute  the  commercial  i»rinciple.  I  would  have  long 
leases  without  covenants  ;  no  useless  timber,  and  no  game." 

'*  AVhy,  you  would  destroy  the  country,"  said  ^Ir.  Ferrars. 

''  We  owe  everything  to  the  large  towns,"  said  Job. 

*'The  i)eoi)le  in  the  large  towns  are  miserable,"  said  Mr, 
Ferrars. 


■I 


u 


ENDYMIOX. 


"  Tliey  can  not  be  more  miserable  than  the  people  in  the 
country,"  said  Job. 

*'  Their  wretchedness  is  notorious,"  said  Mr.  Ferrars. 
*'  Look  at  their  riots." 

"Well,  we  had  Swing  in  the  country  only  two  or  three 
years  ago." 

Mr.  Ferrars  looked  sad.  The  reminiscence  was  too  near 
and  too  fatal.  After  a  pause  he  said  with  an  air  of  decision, 
and  as  if  imparting  a  state  secret,  "  If  it  were  not  for  the  agri- 
cultural districts,  the  King's  army  could  not  be  recruited." 

"  Well,  that  would  not  break  my  heart,"  said  Job. 

*'  Why,  my  good  fellow,  you  are  a  Radical ! " 

^'  They  may  call  me  what  they  like,"  said  Job  ;  *''but  it  will 
not  alter  matters.  lIoAvever,  I  am  going  among  the  Radicals 
soon,  and  then  I  shall  knoAV  what  they  are." 

"And  can  you  leave  your  truly  respectable  j^arent  ?"  said 
]\Ir.  Ferrars  ratlier  solemnly,  for  he  remembered  his  promise  to 
Farmer  Tliornbcrry  io  speak  seriously  to  his  son. 

"  Oh  !  my  respectable  parent  will  do  very  well  without  me, 
sir.  Only  let  him  be  able  to  drive  into  Bamford  on  market 
day,  and  get  two  or  three  linendrapers  to  take  their  hats  off  to 
him,  and  he  will  be  ha^tpy  enough,  and  always  ready  to  die  for 
our  glorious  Constitution." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Eighteen  hundred  and  thirty-two,  the  darkest  and 
most  distressing  year  in  the  life  of  Mr.  Ferrars,  closed  in  com- 
parative calm  and  apparent  content.  He  was  himself  greatly 
altered,  both  in  manner  and  appearance.  He  was  kind  and 
gentle,  but  he  was  silent,  and  rarely  smiled.  His  hair  was 
grizzled,  and  he  began  to  stoop.  But  ho  was  always  employed, 
and  was  interested  in  his  labors. 

Ilis  sanguine  wife  bore  up  against  their  misfortunes  with 
far  more  animation.  She  was  at  first  amused  with  her  new 
life,  and  when  she  was  accustomed  to  it,  she  found  a  never- 


''LOOK  OUT  FOR  SQUALLS^ 


55 


•le  in  the 

Ferrars. 

or  tlirec 

too  near 
decision, 
the  agri- 
ited." 


)iit  it  will 
J  Radicals 

lit  ?  "  said 
)romise  to 

hout  me, 

n  market 

ats  off  to 

0  die  for 


vest  and 
in  com- 
f  greatly 
ind  and 
uiir  was 
nployed, 

aes  with 
her  new 
a  never- 


failing  resource  in  her  conviction  of  a  coming  reaction.  Mrs. 
Ferrars  possessed  most  feminine  qnalities,  and  many  of  them 
in  excess.  She  could  not  reason,  but  her  intuition  was  remark- 
able. She  was  of  opinion  that  "these  people  never  could  go 
on,"  and  that  they  must  necessarily  be  succeeded  by  William 
and  his  friends.  In  vain  her  husband,  when  she  pressed  her 
views  and  convictions  on  him,  would  shake  his  head  over  the 
unprecedented  majority  of  the  government,  and  sigh  wliile  he 
acknowledged  that  the  Tories  absolutely  did  not  now  command 
one-fifth  of  the  House  of  Commons  ;  his  shakes  and  sighs  were 
equally  disregarded  by  her,  and  she  persisted  in  her  dreams  of 
riding  upon  elephants. 

After  all  Mrs.  Ferrars  was  right.  There  is  nothing  more 
remarkable  in  political  history  than  the  sudden  break-up  of  the 
"Whig  party  after  their  successful  revolution  of  1833.  It  is  one 
of  the  most  striking  instances  on  record  of  all  the  elements  of 
political  power  being  useless  without  a  commanding  individual 
will.  During  the  second  year  of  their  exile  in  the  Berkshire 
hills,  affairs  looked  so  black  that  it  seemed  no  change  could 
occur  except  further  and  more  calamitous  revolution.  Zcnobia 
went  to  Vienna  that  she  might  breathe  the  atmosj)here  of  law 
and  order,  and  ninted  to  Mrs.  Ferrars  that  probably  she  should 
never  return — at  least  not  until  Parliament  met,  when  she 
trusted  the  House  of  Lords,  if  they  were  not  abolished  in  the 
interval,  would  save  the  country.  And  yet  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  following  year  an  old  colleague  of  ]\Ir.  Ferrars  ap- 
prised him,  in  the  darkest  and  the  deepest  confidence,  that 
*•'  there  Avas  a  screw  loose,"  and  he  must  ''  look  out  for  squalls." 

In  tlie  mean  time  Mr.  Ferrars  increased  and  established  his 
claims  on  his  party,  if  they  ever  did  rally,  by  his  masterly  arti- 
cles in  their  great  Eeview,  which  circumstances  favored,  and 
which  kept  up  that  increasing  feeling  of  terror  and  despair 
which  then  was  deemed  necessary  to  the  advancement  of  Con- 
servative opinions. 

At  home  a  year  and  more  had  clai).sed  witliout  change. 
The  occasional  appearance  of  Nigel  Pcnruddock  was  the  only 
event.  It  was  to  all  a  pleasing,  and  to  some  of  tlic  family  a 
deeply  interesting  one.     Nigel,  though  a  student  and  devoted 


56 


endymion: 


I 


to  the  holy  profession  for  which  lie  was  destined,  was  also  a 
sportsman.  His  Christianity  was  muscular,  and  Endymion, 
to  whom  he  had  taken  a  fancy,  became  the  companion  of  his 
jiastimes.  All  the  shooting  of  the  estate  was  at  Nigel's  com- 
mand, but  as  there  were  no  keepers,  it  was  of  course  very  rough 
work.  Still  it  was  a  novel  and  animating  life  for  Endymion  ; 
and  though  the  sport  was  slight,  the  pursuit  was  keen.  Then 
Nigel  was  a  great  fisherman,  and  here  their  efforts  had  a  surer 
return,  for  they  dwelt  in  a  land  of  trout  streams,  and  in  their 
Yicinity  was  a  not  inconsiderable  river.  It  was  an  adventure 
of  delight  to  pursue  some  of  these  streams  to  their  source, 
throwing,  us  they  rambled  on,  the  fly  in  the  rijopling  waters. 
Myra,  too,  took  some  pleasure  in  these  fishing  expeditions,  car- 
rying their  luncheon  and  a  German  book  in  her  wallet,  and 
sitting  quietly  on  the  bank  for  hours,  when  they  had  fixed  uj)on 
some  favored  pool  for  a  prolonged  campaign. 

Every  time  that  Nigel  returned  home,  a  difference,  and  a 
striking  difference,  was  observed  in  him.  His  person,  of  course, 
became  more  manly,  his  manner  more  assured,  his  dress  more 
modish.  It  was  impossible  to  deny  that  he  was  extremely 
good-looking,  interesting  in  his  discourse,  and  distinguished 
in  his  appearance.  Endymion  idolized  him.  Nigel  was  his 
model.  lie  imitated  his  manner,  caught  the  tone  of  his  voice, 
and  began  to  give  opinions  on  subjects,  sacred  and  profane. 

After  a  hard  morning's  march,  one  day,  as  they  were  lolling 
on  the  turf  amid  the  old  beeches  and  the  juniper,  Nigel  said — 

**  What  docs  Mr.  Fcrrars  mean  you  to  be,  Endymion  ?" 

'*I  do  not  know,"  said  Endj^mion,  looking  perplexed. 

'*  But  I  suppose  3^ou  are  to  be  something  ?  " 

*'  Yes  ;  I  suppose  I  must  be  something ;  because  papa  has 
lost  his  fortune." 

*'  And  what  would  you  like  to  be  ?" 

*'I  never  thought  about  it,"  said  Endymion. 

**In  my  opinion  there  is  only  one  thing  for  a  man  to  be  in 
this  age,"  said  Nigel  peremptorily;  "he  should  go  into  the 
Church." 

"  The  Church  ! "  said  End3'mion. 

*'  There  will  soon  be  nothing  else  left,"  said  Nigel.     **  The 


NIGEL  AND  EXDYMIOX. 


6T 


was  also  a 
Indymion, 
ion  of  his 
gel's  com- 
'^ery  rough 
ndymion ; 
in.  Then 
ad  a  surer 
id  in  their 
adventure 
ir  source, 
ig  Avaters. 
tions,  car- 
-allet,  and 
ixed  u2ion 

ICC,  and  a 
of  course, 
Ircss  more 
extremely 
inguished 
1  was  his 

lis  voice, 
ofane. 

■e  lolling 
^el  said — 

on  ?  " 

ud. 

papa  has 


to  be  in 
into  the 


i 


i 


(( 


Tho 


Church  must  last  for  ever.  It  is  built  upon  a  rock.  It  was 
founded  by  God  ;  all  other  governments  have  been  founded  by 
men.  When  they  are  destroyed,  and  the  process  of  destruction 
seems  rapid,  there  will  be  nothing  left  to  govern  mi.nivind  ex- 
cept the  Church." 

"Indeed!"  said  Endymion  ;  ''papa  is  very  much  in 
faA'or  of  the  Church,  and,  I  know,  is  writing  something 
about  it." 

"Yes,  but  Mr.  Ferrars  is  aii  Erastian,"  said  Nigel ;  "you 
need  not  tell  him  I  said  so,  but  he  is  one.  lie  wants  the 
Church  to  be  the  servant  of  the  State,  and  all  tluit  sort  of 
tiling,  but  that  will  not  do  any  longer.  This  destruction  of 
the  Irish  bishoprics  has  brought  affairs  to  a  crisis.  No  human 
power  has  the  right  to  destroy  a  bishopric.  It  is  a  divincl}'" 
ordained  office,  and  when  a  dioccso  is  once  established,  it  is 
eternal." 

"  I  see,"  said  Endymion,  much  interested. 

"  I  wish,"  continued  Nigel,  "you  were  two  or  three  years 
older,  and  Mr.  Ferrars  could  send  you  to  Oxford.  That  is  the 
place  to  understand  these  things,  and  they  will  soon  bo  the 
only  things  to  understand.  The  rector  knows  nothing  about 
them.  My  father  is  thoroughly  high  and  dry,  and  has  not  th  j 
slightest  idea  of  Church  principles." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  L..dymion. 

"It  is  quite  a  new  set  even  at  Oxford,"  continued  Nigel ; 
"but  their  principles  are  as  old  as  the  Apostles,  and  come 
down  from  them  straight." 

"  That  is  a  long  time  ago,"  said  Endymion. 

"  I  have  a  great  fancy,"  continued  Nigel,  without  ap[):ir- 
cntly  attending  to  him,  "to  give  you  a  thorough  Church  edu- 
cation. It  would  be  the  making  of  you.  You  would  the;i 
have  a  purpose  in  life,  and  never  be  in  doubt  or  i)erplexity  on 
any  subject.  "We  ought  to  move  heaven  a?id  earth  to  iuduco 
Mr.  Ferrars  to  send  you  to  Oxford." 

"I  will  speak  to  Myra  about  it,"  said  Endymion. 

"I  said  something  of  this  to  your  sister  the  other  day," 
said  Nigel,  "but  I  fear  she  is  terribly  Erastian.  However,  I 
will  give  you  something  to  read.     It  is  not  very  long,  but  you 


68 


ENDYMIOK 


can  read  it  at  your  leisure,  and  then  wc  will  talk  over  it  after- 
ward, and  perhaps  I  may  give  you  something  else." 

Endyi.iion  did  not  fail  to  give  a  report  of  this  conversation 
and  similar  ones  to  his  sister,  for  he  was  in  the  habit  of  telling 
her  everything.  She  listened  with  attention,  but  not  with 
interest  to  his  story.  Her  expression  was  kind,  but  hardly 
serious.  Her  wondrous  eyes  gave  him  a  glance  of  blended 
mockery  and  affection.  *'Dear  darling,"  she  said,  ''if  you  are 
to  be  a  clergyman,  I  should  like  you  to  be  a  cardinal." 


t   H 


;  I 


I' 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  dark  deep  hints  that  had  reached  Mr.  Ferrars  at  the 
beginning  of  1834  were  the  harbingers  of  startling  events.  In 
the  spring  it  began  to  be  rumored  among  the  initiated,  that 
the  mighty  Eeform  Cabinet  with  its  colossal  majority,  and  its 
testimonial  goblets  of  gold,  raised  by  the  penny  subscriptions 
of  a  grateful  people,  was  in  convulsions,  and  before  tiic  month 
of  July  had  elapsed  Lord  Grey  had  resigned,  under  circum- 
stances which  exhibited  the  entire  demoralization  of  his  party. 
Except  Zenobia,  every  one  was  of  opinion  that  the  King  acted 
wisely  in  intrusting  the  reconstruction  of  the  Whig  ministry 
to  his  late  Secretary  of  State,  Lord  Melbourne.  Nevertheless 
it  could  no  longer  be  concealed,  nay,  it  was  invariably  admit- 
ted, that  the  political  situation  had  been  largely  and  most  un- 
expectedly changed,  and  that  there  was  a  prospect,  dim  per- 
haps, yet  not  undefinable,  of  the  conduct  of  public  affairs  again 
falling  to  the  alternate  management  of  two  rival  constitutional 
parties. 

Zenobia  was  so  full  of  hope,  and  almost  of  triumph,  that 
she  induced  her  lord  in  the  autumn  to  assemble  their  political 
friends  at  one  of  his  great  seats,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ferrars  were 
urgently  invited  to  join  the  party.  But,  after  some  hesitation, 
they  declined  this  proposal.  Had  Mr.  Ferrars  been  as  sanguine 
as  his  wife,  he  would  perhaps  have  overcome  his  strong  disin- 
clination to  reenter  the  Avorld,  but  though  no  longer  despairing 


A   LETTER, 


m 


I'  it  aftcr- 

.vcrsation 
of  telling 
not  with 
it  hardly 
blended 
If  you  are 


ars  at  the 

ents.     In 

ited,  that 

y,  and  its 

pcriptions 

0  month 

circum- 

s  party. 

ing  acted 

ministry 

ertheless 

y  admit- 

iiost  nn- 

im  per- 

rs  again 

tutional 

)h,  that 

bolitical 

irs  were 

[itation, 

^nguine 

disin- 


lair.'ng 


of  a  Tory  revival,  he  was  of  opinion  that  a  considerable  period, 
even  several  years,  must  elapse  before  its  occurrence.  Striinge 
to  say,  he  found  no  difficult}'  in  following  his  own  humor 
through  any  contrary  disposition  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Ferrars. 
With  all  her  ambition  and  passionate  love  of  society,  she  was 
unwilling  to  return  to  that  stage,  where  she  once  had  blazed, 
in  a  subdued  and  almost  subordinate  position.  In  fact,  it  was 
an  affair  of  the  wardrobe.  The  queen  ot  costumes,  whose 
fanciful  and  gorgeous  attire  even  Zenobia  was  wont  to  praise, 
could  not  endure  a  reai)pearance  in  old  dresses.  ''I  do  not  so 
much  care  about  my  jewels,  "William,"  she  said  to  her  husband, 
''but  one  must  have  new  dresses." 

It  Avas  a  still  mild  day  in  N"ovembor,  a  month  whicli  in  the 
country,  and  especially  on  the  light  soils,  has  many  charms, 
and  the  whole  Ferrars  family  were  returning  home  after  an 
afternoon  ramble  on  the  chase.  The  leaf  had  changed  but  had 
not  fallen,  and  the  vast  sjiiral  masses  of  the  dark-green  juniper 
effectively  contrasted  with  the  rich  brown  foliage  of  the  beech, 
varied  occp^ionally  by  the  scarlet  leaves  of  the  wild  cherry  tree, 
that  always  mingles  v  ith  these  woods.  Around  the  house  Avere 
some  lime  trees  of  lar/;e  size,  and  at  this  period  of  the  year,  their 
foliage,  still  perfect,  vas  literally  quite  golden.  They  seemed 
like  trees  in  some  fairy  tale  '^f  imprisoned  princesses  or  wander- 
ing cavaliers,  and  such  they  would  remain,  until  the  fatal  night 
that  brings  the  first  frost. 

'•'There  is  a  parcel  from  London,"  said  the  servant  to  Mr. 
Ferrars,  as  they  entered  the  house.     *'It  is  on  your  desk." 

A  parcel  from  London  was  one  of  the  great  events  of  their 
life.  What  could  it  be  ?  Perhaps  some  proofs,  probably  some 
books.  Mr.  Ferrars  entered  his  room  alone.  It  was  a  very 
small  brown  paper  parcel,  evidently  not  books.  He  opened  it 
hastily,  and  disencumbered  it  jontents  of  several  coverings. 
The  contents  took  the  form  of  a  letter — a  single  letter. 

The  handwriting  was  recognized,  and  he  read  the  letter 
with  an  agitated  countenance,  and  then  he  opened  the  door  of 
his  room,  and  called  loudly  for  his  wife,  who  was  by  his  side 
in  a  few  moments. 


"A  letter,  my  love,  from  Barron,"  ho  cried. 


"The  King 


CO 


EXD  YJJIOy. 


■'  1  i 


has  dismissed  Lord  Melbourne  and  sent  for  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington, who  has  accepted  the  conduct  of  affairs." 

"You  must  go  to  town  directly,"  said  his  wife.  "He 
offered  you  the  Cabinet  in  1832.  No  person  has  such  a  strong 
claim  on  him  as  you  have." 

*'  It  docs  not  appear  that  he  is  exactly  prime  minister,"  said 
Mr.  Ferrars,  looking  again  at  the  letter.  "  They  have  sent  for 
Peel,  who  is  at  Rome,  but  the  Duke  is  to  conduct  the  govern- 
ment till  ho  arrives." 

"You  must  go  to  town  immediately,"  repeated  Mrs.  Ferrars. 
"There  is  not  a  moment  to  be  lost.  Send  down  to  the  Ilorso 
Shoe  and  t-ecure  an  inside  place  in  the  Salisbury  coach.  It 
reaches  this  place  at  nine  to-morrow  morning.  I  will  have 
everything  ready.  You  must  take  a  portmanteau  and  a  carpet- 
bag. I  wonder  if  you  could  get  a  bedroom  at  the  Hodneys'. 
It  would  be  so  nice  to  be  among  old  friends ;  they  must  feel 
for  you.  "And  tb^';  it  will  be  near  the  Carlton,  which  is  a  great 
thing.  I  wond>  .  w  he  will  form  his  cabinet.  "What  a  pity 
he  is  not  here  ! " 

"It  is  a  wonderful  event,  but  the  diflliculties  must  bo  im- 
mense," observed  Ferrars. 

"Oh  !  you  ahvays  see  difficulties.  I  see  none.  The  King 
is  with  us,  the  country  is  disgusted.  It  is  what  I  always  said 
would  be  ;  the  rcictlon  is  complete.'* 

"Well,  we  had  better  now  go  and  tell  the  children,"  said 
Ferrars.  "I  leavi)  you  all  here  for  the  first  time,"  and  he 
S3emed  to  sigh. 

"Well,  I  hope  we  shall  soon  join  you,"  said  Mrs.  Ferrars. 
"  It  is  the  very  best  time  for  hiring  a  house.  What  I  have  set 
my  heart  upon  is  the  Green  Park.  It  will  be  near  your  office, 
and  not  too  near.     I  am  sure  I  could  not  live  again  in  a  street." 

The  children  were  informed  that  public  events  of  impor- 
tance had  occurred,  that  the  King  had  changed  his  ministry, 
and  tluit  papa  must  go  up  to  town  immediately  and  see  the 
Duke  of  Wellington.  The  eyes  of  Mrs.  Ferrars  danced  with 
cx(M  Lenient  as  she  communicated  to  them  all  this  intelligence, 
and  much  more,  with  a  volubility  in  which,  of  late  years,  she 
had  rarely  indulged.     Mr.  Ferrars  looked  grave  and  said  little. 


TEA  VELING  PRE  PARA  TIOXS. 


61 


lie 


'  errai's. 
lave  set 

office, 
street. " 
impor- 
nistry, 
see  the 
d  with 
igence, 
,rs,  she 

little. 


Then  he  patted  Endymion  on  tlie  head  and  kissed  Myra,  wlio 
returned  his  embrace  with  a  warmth  unusual  witli  lier. 

The  whole  household  soon  became  in  a  state  of  bustle  with 
tlic  preparations  for  tlie  early  doptirturo  of  Mr.  Ferrars.  It 
seemed  difficult  to  comprehend  how  filling  a  portmanteau  and 
a  carpet-bag  could  induce  such  excited  and  continuous  exer- 
tions. But  then  there  was  so  much  to  remember,  and  then 
tliere  was  always  sometliing  forgotten.  Mrs.  Ferrars  was  in 
her  bedroom,  surrounded  by  all  her  maids  ;  Mr.  Ferrars  was 
in  liis  study,  looking  out  some  papers  which  it  Avas  necessary 
to  take  with  him.     The  children  were  alone. 

''I  wonder  if  we  shall  be  restored  to  our  greatness,"  said 
Myra  to  Endymion. 

*•  Well,  I  shall  be  sorry  to  leaA'C  the  old  place  ;  I  have  been 
hai»py  here." 

''I  have  not,"  said  Myra;  *Sind  I  do  not  think  I  could 
have  borne  this  life  had  it  not  been  for  you."  * 

"  It  will  be  a  wonderful  cht,uge,"  said  Endymio.i. 

"If  it  come  ;  I  fear  papa  is  not  daring  enough.  However, 
if  we  get  out  of  this  hole,  it  will  be  something." 

Tea-time  brought  them  all  together  again,  but  when  the 
meal  was  over  none  of  the  usval  occupations  of  the  evening 
were  pursued ;  no  work,  no  books,  no  reading  aloud.  Mr. 
Ferrars  was  to  get  up  very  early,  and  that  Avas  a  reason  for  all 
retiring  soon.  And  yet  neither  the  husband  nor  the  wife  really 
cared  to  sleep.  Mrs.  Ferrars  sat  by  the  fire  in  his  dressing- 
room,  speculating  on  all  possible  combinations,  and  infusing 
into  him  all  he^  suggestions  and  all  her  schemes.  She  was 
still  prudent  ana  3till  would  have  preferred  a  great  govern- 
ment— India,  if  possible — but  had  made  up  her  mind  that  ho 
must  accept  the  cabinet.  Considering  what  had  occurred  in 
1832,  she  thought  he  was  bound  in  honor  to  do  so.  Her  hus- 
band listened  rather  than  conversed,  and  seemed  lost  in 
thought.  At  last  he  rose,  and,  embracing  her  with  much  af- 
fection, said  :  "You  forget  I  am  to  rise  witli  the  lark.  I  shall 
write  to  you  every  day.  Best  and  dearest  of  women,  you  have 
ulwavs  been  right,  and  all  my  good  fortune  has  come  from 
you." 


62  ENDYMWX. 


ciiAPTEii  xvr. 

It  was  a  very  tedious  journey,  and  it  took  the  wliolc  day  to 
accomplish  a  distance  Avliich  a  rapid  express  train  now  can 
acliievc  in  an  hour.  The  coach  carried  six  inside  passengers, 
and  they  liad  to  dine  on  the  road.  All  the  passengers  Avero 
strangers  to  Mr.  Ferrars,  and  he  was  by  them  unknown  ;  one 
of  them  purchased,  thougli  with  difficulty,  a  second  edition  of 
the  ''Times"  as  they  approached  London,  and  favored  his  fel- 
low travelers  with  the  news  of  the  change  of  ministry.  There 
Avas  much  excitement,  and  the  purchaser  of  the  paper  gave  it 
as. his  opinion,  ''that  it  was  an  intrigue  of  the  Court  and  the 
Tories,  and  would  never  do."  Another  modestly  intimated 
that  he  thought  there  was  a  decided  reaction.  A  third  an- 
nounced that  England  would  never  submit  to  be  govcTued  by 
O'Conneir. 

As  the  gloom  of  evening  descended,  ^Mr.  Ferrars  felt  de- 
pressed. Thougli  his  life  at  Ilurstley  had  been  pensive  and 
melancholy,  lie  felt  now  the  charm  and  the  want  of  that  sweet 
domestic  distraction  which  had  often  prevented  his  mind  from 
overbrooding,  and  had  softened  life  by  sympathy  in  little  things. 
Nor  was  it  withoat  emotion  that  he  found  himself  again  in 
London,  that  proud  city  where  once  he  had  himself  been  so 
proud.  The  streets  were  lighted,  and  seemed  swarming  with 
an  infinite  population,  and  the  coach  finally  stopped  at  a  great 
inn  ill  the  Strand,  where  Mr.  Ferrars  thought  it  prudent  to 
secure  accommodation  for  the  night.  It  was  too  late  to  look 
after  the  Rodneys,  but  in  deference  to  the  strict  injunction  of 
Mrs.  Ferrars,  he  paid  them  a  visit  next  morning  on  his  way  to 
his  political  chief. 

In  the  days  of  the  great  modistes,  when  an  English  lady 
might  absolutely  be  dressed  in  London,  the  most  celebrated 
mantua-maker  in  that  city  was  Madame  Euphrosyne.  She 
was  as  fascinating  as  she  was  fashionable.  She  was  so  graceful, 
her  manners  were  so  pretty,  so  natural,  and  so  insinuating  I 
She  took  so  lively  an  interest  in  her  clients — her  very  heart 
was  in  their  good  looks.    She  was  a  great  favorite  of  Mrs.  Fer- 


SYL  VIA. 


63 


)  clay  to 
ow  can 
scngcrs, 
r.s  ■vvcrc 
'n  ;  Olio 
itioii  of 

his  fel- 
Thcrc 

gave  it 
xvA  the 
tiinatcd 
lird  an- 
I'licd  by 

felt  tlc- 
;ive  and 

t  sweet 
id  from 

things, 
fgain  in 

)ecn  so 
|ig  "witli 

a  groat 
idcnt  to 

to  look 

;tion  of 

Avay  to 

^h  hidy 
3brated 
She 
[•aceful, 
lating  I 
heart 
\s.  Fer- 


rars,  and  that  hidy  of  Madame  Euphrosyne.  She  assured  Mrs. 
Ferrar.s  that  she  was  prouder  of  dressing  Mrs.  Ferrars  than  all 
the  other  fine  ladies  in  London  together,  and  Mrs.  Ferrars  be- 
lieved her.  Unfortunately,  Avhile  in  the  way  of  making  a  large 
fortune,  Madame  Eui)hrosync,  who  Avas  romantic,  fell  in  love 
with,  and  married,  a  very  handsome  and  worthless  husband, 
whose  good  looks  had  obtained  for  him  a  position  in  the  com- 
pany of  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  then  a  place  of  refined  resort, 
which  his  abilities  did  not  jus'ify.  After  ])illaging  and  plun- 
d«  ring  his  wife  for  many  years,  he  finally  involved  her  in 
such  engagements,  that  she  had  to  take  refuge  in  the  Bank- 
ruptcy Court.  Her  business  was  ruined,  and  her  si)irit  was 
broken,  and  she  died  shortly  after  of  adversity  and  chagrin. 
Her  daughter  Sylvia  was  then  eighteen,  and  had  inherited 
with  the  grace  of  her  mother  the  beauty  of  her  less  reputable 
parent.  Her  figure  was  slight  and  undulating,  and  she  was 
always  exquisitely  dressed.  A  brilliant  complexion  set  off  to 
advantage  her  delicate  features,  wliich,  though  serene,  were 
not  devoid  of  a  certain  expression  of  archness.  Her  white 
hands  were  delicate,  her  light  eyes  inclined  to  merriment,  and 
her  nose  quite  a  gem,  though  a  little  turned  up. 

After  their  ruin,  her  profligate  father  lold  lier  that  her  face 
was  her  fortune,  and  that  she  must  provide  for  herself,  in 
which  she  would  find  no  difficulty.  But  Sylvia,  though  she 
had  never  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  any  training,  moral  or  re- 
ligious, had  no  bad  impulses  even  if  she  had  no  good  ones,  wa^s 
of  a  rather  cold  character,  and  extremely  i)rudent.  She  re- 
coiled from  the  life  of  riot,  and  disorder,  and  irregularity,  in 
wliicli  she  had  unwittingly  passed  her  days,  and  which  had 
terminated  so  tragically,  and  she  resolved  to  make  an  effort  to 
secure  for  herself  a  different  career.  She  had  heard  that  Mrs. 
Ferrars  was  in  want  of  an  attendant,  and  she  determined  to 
apply  for  the  post.  As  one  of  the  chief  customers  of  her 
mother,  Sylvia  had  been  in  the  frequent  habit  of  waiting  on 
that  lady,  with  whom  she  had  become  a  favorite.  She  was  so 
pretty,  and  the  only  person  who  could  fit  Mrs.  Ferrars.  Her 
appeal,  therefore,  was  not  in  vain  ;  it  was  more  than  success- 
ful.    Mrs.  Ferrars  was  attracted  bv  Svlvia.     Mrs.  Ft  Tars  was 


64 


EXD  VMIOy. 


I 


magnificent,  gcnorou's,  and  she  liketl  to  be  n  patroness  and  fo 
be  siiiTounded  bv  favorites.  Slie  determined  that  Sylvia  sliould 
not  sink  into  Ji  menial  poj.ition  ;  she  adoi)tcd  her  as  a  Ininiblo 
friend,  and  one  who  every  day  became  more  regarded  by  her. 
Sylvia  arranged  Ker  invitations  to  her  receptions,  a  task  which 
rcfinired  finish  and  precision  ;  sometimes  wrote  hc-r  noles.  She 
spoke  and  wrote  French,  too,  and  that  was  useful,  was  a  mu- 
sician, and  had  a  jiretty  voice.  Above  all,  she  was  a  first-rate 
counselor  in  costume  ;  and  so,  looking  also  after  Mrs.  Ferrars' 
dogs  and  birds,  she  became  almost  one  of  the  family  ;  dined 
with  them  often  when  they  were  alone,  and  was  frequently 
Mrs.  Ferrars'  companion  in  her  carriage. 

Sylvia,  though  not  by  nature  impulsive,  really  adored  her 
j)atroness.  She  governed  her  manners  and  she  modeled  her 
dress  on  that  great  original,  and,  next  to  Mrs.  Ferrars,  Sylvia 
in  time  became  nearly  the  finest  lady  in  London.  There  was, 
indeed,  much  in  Mrs.  Ferrars  to  captivate  a  person  like  Sylvia. 
Mrs.  Ferrars  was  beautiful,  fashionable,  gorgeous,  wonderfully 
cxi)ensive,  and,  where  3r  taste  was  pleased,  profusely  gener- 
ous. Her  winning  manner  was  not  less  irresistible  because  it 
was  sometimes  uncertain,  and  she  had  the  art  of  being  intimate 
without  beirf  familiar. 

When  the  crash  came,  Sylvia  was  really  broken-hearted,  or 
•believed  she  was,  and  imi)lored  that  she  might  attend  the  de- 
posed sovereigns  into  exile  ;  but  that  was  impossible,  howcA'cr 
anxious  they  might  be  as  to  the  future  of  their  favorite.  Her 
destiny  Avas  sooner  decided  than  they  could  have  anticipated. 
There  was  a  member  of  the  household,  or  rather  family,  in  Hill 
Street  who  bore  almost  the  same  relation  to  Mr.  Ferrars  as  Syl- 
via to  his  wife.  This  was  Mr.  Eodney,  a  remarkably  good- 
looking  person,  by  nature  really  a  little  resembling  his  princi- 
pal, and  completing  the  resemblance  by  consummate  art.  The 
courtiers  of  Alexander  of  Macedon  could  not  study  their  chief 
with  more  devotion,  or  more  sedulously  imitate  his  mien  and 
-carriage,  than  did  Mr.  Rodney  that  distinguished  individual  of 
whom  he  was  the  humble  friend,  and  who  he  was  convinced 
was  destined  to  be  the  Prime  Minister  of  England.  Mr.  Rod- 
ney was  the  son  of  the  office-keeper  of  old  Mr.  Ferrars,  and  it 


MR.   liODXEY. 


65 


was  tlic  ambition  of  the  father  that  liis  son,  for  whom  lie  had 
secured  a  sound  education,  sliouUl  become  a  member  of  the 
civil  service.  It  had  Ijccomc  an  ai)othcgm  in  the  Ferrars  family 
tiiat  something?  must  be  done  for  Kodney,  and  whenever  tlic 
jipparent  occasion  failed,  wliich  was  not  unfrequent,  old  Mr. 
I'Vrrars  used  always  to  add,  *' Never  mind;  so  long  as  I  live, 
liodney  shall  never  want  a  home.''  The  object  of  all  this  kind- 
ness, however,  was  little  distressed  by  their  failures  in  his  pre- 
ferment, lie  had  implicit  faith  in  the  career  of  his  friend  and 
master,  and  looked  forward  to  the  time  when  it  might  not  be 
inii)Ossible  that  he  himself  might  find  a  haven  in  a  commission- 
ership.  Recently  Mr.  Fer'-ars  had  been  able  to  confer  on  him 
a  small  post  with  duties  not  too  engrossing,  and  which  did 
not  prevent  his  regular  presence  in  Ilill  Street,  where  he  made 
himself  generally  useful. 

If  there  were  anything  confideniial  to  be  accomi)lisbed  in 
their  domestic  life,  everything  might  bo  trusted  to  his  discre- 
tion and  entire  devotion.  He  supervised  the  establishment 
without  injudiciously  interfering  with  the  house-steward, 
copied  secret  papers  for  Mr.  Ferrars,  and  when  that  gentleman 
was  out  of  ofHce  .ictcd  as  his  private  secretary.  Mr.  Kodney 
was  the  most  official  personage  in  the  ministerial  circle.  lie 
considered  human  nature  only  with  reference  to  office.  No 
one  was  so  intimately  acquainted  with  all  the  details  of  the 
lesser  patronage  as  himself,  and  his  hours  of  study  were  passed 
in  the  pages  of  the  '*  Peerage  "  and  in  penetrating  the  mys- 
teries of  the  "  Royal  Calendar." 

The  events  of  1832,  therefore,  to  this  gentleman  wore  scarce- 
ly a  less  severe  blow  than  to  the  Ferrars  family  itself.  Indeed, 
like  his  chief,  he  looked  upon  himself  as  the  victim  of  a  revo- 
lution. Mr.  Rodney  had  always  been  an  admirer  of  Sylvia, 
but  no  more.  He  had  accompanied  her  to  the  theatre,  and 
had  attended  her  to  the  park,  but  this  was  quite  under- 
stood on  both  sides  only  to  be  gallantry ;  both,  perhaps,  in 
their  prosperity,  wdth  respect  to  the  serious  step  of  life,  had 
indulged  in  higher  dreams.  But  the  sympathy  of  sorrow 
is  stronger  than  the  sympathy  of  prosperity.  In  the  dark- 
ness of  their  lives,  each  required  comfort :  he  murmured  some 


C6 


EXD  YMIOy. 


accents  of  tender  solace,  and  Sylvia  agreed  to  become  Mrs. 
Rodney. 

When  tliey  considered  their  position  the  prospect  was  not 
free  from  anxiety.  To  marry  and  then  separate  is,  where  there 
is  affection,  trying.  His  income  would  secure  them  little  more 
tlian  a  roof,  but  how  to  live  under  that  roof  was  a  mystery. 
x''or  her  to  become  a  governess,  and  for  him  to  become  a  secre- 
tary, and  to  meet  only  on  an  occasional  Sunday,  was  a  sorry 
lot.  And  yet  both  possessed  accomplishments  or  accpiircmonts 
Avhich  ought  in  some  degree  to  be  productive.  Rodney  had  ^ 
friend,  and  he  determined  to  consult  him. 

That  friend  was  no  common  person  ;  he  was  Mr.  Vigo,  by 
birth  a  Yorkshireman,  and  gifted  with  all  the  attributes,  phys- 
ical and  intellectual,  of  that  celebrated  race.  At  present  he 
was  the  most  fashionable  tailor  in  London,  and  one  whom 
many  persons  consulted.  Besides  being  consummate  in  his  art, 
Mr.  Vigo  had  tlie  reputation  of  being  a  man  of  singularly  good 
judgment.  lie  was  one  who  obtained  influence  over  all  with 
whom  he  came  in  contact,  and  as  his  business  placed  him  in 
contact  with  various  classes,  but  especially  with  the  class  so- 
cially most  distinguished,  his  influence  was  great.  The  golden 
youth  who  repaired  to  his  counters  came  there  not  merely  to 
obtain  raiment  of  the  best  material  and  the  most  perfect  cut, 
but  to  see  and  talk  with  Mr.  Vigo,  and  to  ask  his  opinion  on 
various  points.  There  was  a  spacious  room  where,  if  they 
liked,  they  might  smoke  a  cigar,  and  "Vigo's  cigars"  were 
some  thing  which  no  one  could  rival.  If  they  liked  to  take  a 
glass  of  hock  with  their  tobacco,  there  was  a  bottle  ready  from 
the  cellars  of  Johannisberg.  Mr.  "r  igo's  stable  was  almost  as 
famous  as  its  master ;  he  drove  the  finest  horses  in  London, 
and  rode  the  best  hunters  in  the  Vale  of  Aylesbury.  With  all 
this,  his  manners  were  exactly  what  they  should  be.  He  was 
neither  pretentious  nor  servile,  but  simple,  and  with  becoming 
respect  for  others  and  for  himself.  He  never  took  a  liberty 
with  any  one,  and  such  treatment,  as  is  generally  the  case,  was 
reciprocal. 

Mr.  Vigo  was  much  attached  to  Mr,  Rodney,  and  was  proud 
of  his  intimate  acq^uaintance  with  him.     He  wanted  a  friend 


MR.    VIGO. 


(SI 


ne  Mrs. 

was  not 
ire  there 
tic  more 
nystcry. 
a  sccre- 
3  a  sorry 
remcnts 
iy  liad  a 

Vigo,  by 

;s,  phys- 

3sent  he 

D  whom 

1  his  art, 

rly  good 

all  with 

him  in 

3lass  .so- 

3  golden 

erely  to 

ct  cut, 

lion  on 

if  they 

"  were 

take  a 

from 

ost  as 

ondon, 

ith  all 

Ic  was 

oming 

liberty 

|se,  was 

l)roud 
I  friend 


h 


4 

I 


not  of  his  own  order,  for  that  would  not  increase  or  improve 
his  ideas,  but  one  conversant  with  the  habits  and  feelings  of  a 
superior  class,  and  yet  he  did  not  want  a  fine  gentleman  for  an 
intimate,  who  would  have  been  either  an  insolent  patron  or  a 
designing  parasite.  Rodney  had  relations  with  the  aristocracy, 
with  the  political  world,  and  could  feel  the  pulse  of  public  life. 
His  appearance  was  engaging,  his  manners  gentle  if  not  gentle- 
manlike, and  he  had  a  temper  never  disturbed.  This  is  a 
quality  highly  appreciated  by  men  of  energy  and  fire,  uLo  may 
happen  not  to  have  a  complete  self-control. 

When  Rodney  detailed  to  his  friend  the  catast;  oi)he  that 
had  occurred  and  all  its  sad  consequences,  Mr.  Vigo  heard  him 
in  silence,  occasionally  nodding  his  head  in  sympathy  or  appro- 
bation, or  scrutinizing  a  statement  with  his  keen  hazel  eye. 
When  his  visitor  had  finished,  he  said — 

"When  there  has  been  a  crash,  there  is  nothing  like  a 
change  of  scene.  I  i)ropose  that  you  and  Mrs.  Rodney  should 
come  and  stay  with  me  a  week  at  my  house  at  Barnes,  and 
there  a  good  many  things  may  occur  to  us."     • 

And  so,  toward  the  end  of  the  week,  when  the  Rodneys  had 
exhausted  their  whole  programme  of  projects,  against  every  one 
of  which  there  seemed  some  invincible  objection,  their  host 
said,  "You  know  I  rather  speculate  in  houses.  I  bought  one 
last  vear  in  "Warwick  Street.  It  is  a  large  roomv  liouse  in  a 
quiet  situation,  though  in  a  bustling  quarter,  just  where  mem- 
bers of  Parliament  would  like  to  lodge.  I  have  i)ut  it  in 
thorougli  repair.  Wluit  I  propose  is  that  you  should  live  there, 
let  the  first  and  second  floors — they  are  equally  good — and  live 
on  the  ground  floor  yourselves,  which  is  amply  convenient. 
We  will  not  talk  about  rent  till  the  year  is  over  and  we  see  how 
it  answers.  Tlu  house  is  unfurnished,  but  that  is  nothing.  I 
will  introduce  you  to  a  friend  of  mine  who  will  furnish  it  for 
you  solidly  and  handsomely,  you  paying  a  percentage  on  the 
amount  expended.  He  will  want  a  guarantee,  but  of  course  I 
will  be  that.  It  is  an  experiment,  but  try  it.  Try  it  for  a 
year;  at  any  rate  you  will  be  a  householder,  and  you  will  have 
the  opportunity  of  thinking  of  something  else." 

Hitherto  the  Rodneys  had  Ixjcn  successful  in  their  enter- 


■C8 


ENLYMIOX, 


%    %■ 


I 
I'l 


if!  3 


prist',  and  the  soundness  of  Mr.  Vigo's  advice  had  been  j)roved. 
Their  house  Avas  full,  and  of  the  best  tenants.  Their  first  fioor 
was  taken  by  a  distinguished  M.  P.,  a  county  member  of  repute 
whom  Mr.  Rodney  had  known  before  the  "  revolution,"  and  who 
was  so  jileased  with  his  quarters,  and  the  comfort  and  refine- 
ment of  all  about  him,  that  to  insure  their  constant  enjoyment 
he  became  a  yearly  tenant.  Their  second  floor,  which  was 
nearly  as  good  as  their  first,  was  inhabited  by  a  young  gentleman 
of  fashion,  who  took  them  originally  only  by  the  week,  and 
who  was  always  going  to  give  them  up,  but  never  did.  The 
weekly  lodger  went  to  Paris,  and  he  went  to  CJcrman  baths, 
and  he  went  to  country  houses,  and  he  was  frerpiently  a  long 
time  away,  but  he  never  gave  up  his  lodgings.  When  there- 
fore Mr.  Ferrars  called  in  Warwick  Street,  the  truth  is  the 
house  was  full  and  there  was  no  vacant  room  for  him.  But 
this  the  Rodneys  would  not  admit.  Though  they  Avere  Avorldly 
l^eople,  and  it  seemed  impossible  that  anything  more  could  be 
gained  from  the  ruined  house  at  Ilurstley,  they  had,  like  many 
other  people,  a  superstition,  and  their  superstition  Avas  an  ado- 
ration of  the  family  of  Ferrars.  The  sight  of  their  former 
master,  who,  had  it  not  been  for  the  revolution,  might  have 
been  Prime  Minister  of  England,  and  the  recollection  of  their 
former  mistress  and  all  her  splendor,  and  all  the  rich  dresses 
which  she  used  to  giA'C  so  profusely  to  her  dependent,  quit'^ 
OA'crwhelmed  them.  Without  consultation  this  sympathizing 
couple  leaped  to  the  same  conclusion.  They  assured  Mr.  Fer- 
rars they  could  accommodate  him,  and  that  he  should  find 
CA'erything  prepared  for  him  Avhen  he  called  again,  and  they 
resigned  to  him,  Avithout  acknoAvledging  it,  their  oaa'u  commo- 
dious and  Avell-furnished  chamber,  Avhicli  Mrs.  Rodney  prepared 
for  kim  with  the  utmost  solicitude,  arranging  his  writing-tiible 
and  materials  as  he  used  to  Iuiat  them  in  Hill  Street,  and  shoAr- 
ine:  by  a  varietv  of  modes  she  remembered  all  his  AA'av>. 


f 


I 


THE  CARL  Toy  CLUB. 


6^ 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


4 


After  securing  his  room  in  Warwick  Street,  Mr.  Ferrars 
culled  on  his  political  chiefs.  Though  engrossed  with  affairs, 
tlie  moment  his  card  Avas  exhibited  he  Avas  seen,  cordially  wel- 
comed, and  addressed  in  confidence.  Xot  only  were  his  claims 
acknowledged  without  being  preferred,  but  an  evidently  ear- 
nest hope  was  expressed  that  they  might  be  fully  satisfied. 
Xo  one  had  suffered  more  for  the  party  and  no  one  had  worked 
harder  or  more  elfectively  for  it.  But  at  present  nothing  could 
be  done  and  nothing  more  could  be  said.  All  depended  on 
Peel.  Until  he  arrived  nothing  could  bo  arranged.  Their 
duties  were  limited  to  provisionally  administering  the  affairs 
of  the  country  until  his  appearance. 

It  was  many  days,  even  wrecks,  before  that  event  could 
happen.  The  messenger  would  travel  to  Rome  night  and  day, 
but  it  was  calculated  that  nearly  three  weeks  must  elapse  be- 
fore his  return.  Mr.  Ferrars  then  went  to  the  Carlton  Club, 
which  he  had  assisted  in  forming  three  or  four  years  before, 
and  had  established  in  a  house  of  moderate  dimensions  in 
Charles  Street,  St.  James.  It  was  called  then  the  Charles 
Street  gang,  and  none  but  the  thorough-going  cared  to  belong 
to  it.  Xow  he  found  it  flourishing  in  a  magnificent  mansion 
on  Carlton  Terrace,  while  in  very  sight  of  its  windows,  on  a 
plot  oi  ground  in  Pall  Mall,  a  palace  was  rising  to  receive  it. 
It  counted  already  fifteen  hundred  members,  who  had  been 
selected  by  an  omniscient  and  scrutinizing  committee,  solely 
with  reference  to  their  loc:d  influence  throughout  the  country, 
and  the  books  ircre  overflowing  with  impatient  candidates  of 
rank,  and  wealth,  and  power. 

Three  years  ago  Ferrars  had  been  one  of  the  leading  spirits 
of  this  great  i;onfederaL y,  and  now  he  entered  the  superb  cliani- 

.  and  i  uo  him  thai  he  did  not  recognize  a  human 

Ining.  Yet  it  was  full  to  overflowing,  and  excitement,  and 
anxiety,  and  bustle  were  impressed  on  every  countenance.  If 
ho  luid  heard  some  of  the  whispers  and  remarks,  as  he  entered 
uiul  moved  about,  his  self-complacency  would  scarcely  have 
been  gratified. 


70 


ENDYMIOK 


t 


■ 


"  Who  is  that  ?  "  inquired  a  young  M.  P.  of  a  brother  sena- 
tor not  much  more  experienced. 

"  Have  not  the  remotest  idea ;  never  saw  him  before.  Bar- 
ron is  speaking  to  him  ;  he  will  tell  us.  I  say,  Barron,  who  is 
your  friend  ?  " 

"  That  is  Ferrars  ! " 

*'  Ferrars  !  who  is  he  ?  " 

''  One  of  our  best  men.  If  all  our  fellows  luid  fought  like 
him  against  the  Reform  Bill,  that  infernal  measure  would 
never  have  been  carried." 

"  Oh  !  ah !  I  remember  something  now,"  said  tlie  young 
M.  P.,  "  but  anything  that  happened  before  the  election  of  '32 
I  look  upon  as  an  old  almanac." 

However,  notwithstanding  the  first  and  painful  impression 
of  strangers  and  strangeness,  when  a  little  time  had  elapsed, 
Ferrars  found  many  friends,  and  among  the  most  distinguished 
2ire5ent.  Nothing  could  be  more  hearty  than  their  greeting, 
and  he  had  not  been  in  the  room  half  an  hour  before  he 
had  accepted  an  invitation  to  dine  that  very  day  with  Lord 
Pomeroy. 

It  Avas  a  large  and  rather  miscellaneous  party,  but  all  of  the 
right  kidney.  Some  men  who  had  been  cabinet  ministers,  and 
>ome  Avho  expected  to  be  ;  several  occupiers  in  old  daj^s  of  the 
secondary  offices  ;  both  the  whips,  one  noisy  and  the  other 
myfterioup  :  several  lawyers  of  repute  who  must  be  brought 
into  Parliament,  and  some  young  men  who  had  distinguished 
themselves  in  the  reformed  house  iMid  whom  Ferrars  had  never 
seen  before.  '-It  is  like  old  days,"  said  tlie  husband  of  Zeno- 
Ua  to  Ferrars.  who  sat  next  to  him  ;  ''I  hope  it  will  float,  but 
we  shall  know  notliing  till  Peel  comes." 

"  He  will  have  difficulty  with  his  cabinet,  so  far  as  the 
House  of  Commons  is  concerned,"  said  an  old  privy  councilor. 
''They  must  have  seats,  and  his  choice  is  \ery  limited." 

"Ho  will  dissolve,"  said  the  husband  of  Zenobia.  "lie 
must. " 

"  Whcugh  ! "  said  the  privy  councilor,  and  he  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

"The  old  story  will  not  do,"  said  the  husband  of  Zenobia. 


I 


1  of  the 

1 

!  other 

^ 
* 
* 

roiight 

nished 

never 

'  Zeno- 

\t,  but 

xs  the 

[* 

icilor. 

'aio 

Dd  his 

2 

J 

GLOOMY  PROSPECTS. 


71 


liobia. 


"  We  must  have  new  blood.  Peel  must  reconstruct  on  a  broad 
basis." 

"  "Well,  they  say  there  is  no  lack  of  converts,"  said  the  old 
privy  councilor. 

All  this,  and  much  more  that  he  heard,  made  Ferrars  pon- 
der, and  anxiously.  No  cabinet  without  Parliament.  It  was 
but  reasonable.  A  dissolution  was  therefore  in  his  interest. 
And  yet,  what  a  prospect !  A  considerable  expenditure,  and 
yet  with  a  considerable  expenditure  a  doubtful  result.  Then 
reconstruction  on  a  broad  basis — what  did  that  mean  ?  Neither 
more  nor  less  than  rival  candidates  for  ofRce.  There  was  no 
lack  of  converts.  He  dare  say  not.  A  great  deal  had  developed 
since  his  exile  at  Ilurstley — tilings  which  are  not  learned  by 
newspapers,  or  even  private  correspondence.  He  spoke  to  Bar- 
ron after  dinner.  He  had  reason  to  believe  Barron  was  his 
friend.  Barron  could  give  no  opinion  about  dissolution  ;  all 
depended  on  Peel.  But  they  were  acting,  and  had  been  acting 
for  some  time,  as  if  a  dissolution  were  on  the  cards.  Ferrars 
had  better  call  aj)on  him  to-morroAv,  and  go  over  the  list,  and 
see  what  could  be  done  for  him.     He  had  every  claim. 

Tlie  man  with  every  claim  called  on  Barron  on  the  morrow, 
and  saw  his  secret  list,  and  listened  to  all  his  secret  prospects 
and  secret  plans.  There  was  more  tlian  one  manufacturing 
town  where  there  was  an  opening;  decided  loaction,  and  a 
genuine  Conservative  feeling.  Barron  had  no  doubt,  that  al- 
tlioiigh  a  man  might  not  get  in  the  first  time  he  stood,  he 
would  ultimately.  Ultimately  was  not  a  word  which  itiited 
^Ir.  Ferrars.  There  were  several  old  boroughs  "\>'hcre  the  free- 
men still  outnumbered  the  ten-pounders,  and  Avlierc  the  pros- 
pects were  more  than  encouraging ;  but  the  expense  was  equal 
to  the  goodness  of  the  chance,  and  although  Ferrars  had  every 
claim,  and  would  no  doubt  be  assisted,  still  one  could  not  shut 
one's  eyes  to  the  fact  that  the  personal  expenditure  must  be 
considerable.  The  agricultural  boroughs  must  be  fought,  at 
least  this  time,  by  local  men.  Something  might  be  done  with 
an  Irish  borough  ;  expense,  comparatively  speaking,  inconsider- 
able, but  the  politics  deeply  Orange, 

Gloom  settled  on  the  countenance  of  this  spoiled  child  of 


Y2 


EXDYMIOy. 


'f.\ 


politics,  who  had  always  sat  for  a  close  borough,  and  who  re- 
coiled from  a  contest  like  a  woman,  when  he  jiictured  to  liim- 
self  the  struggle  and  exertion  and  personal  suffering  he  would 
have  to  encounter  and  endure,  and  then  with  no  certainty  of 
success.  The  trained  statesman,  who  had  anticipated  tlie  mass 
of  his  party  on  Catholic  emancipation,  to  become  an  Orange 
candidate  !  It  was  worse  than  making  speeches  to  ten-pound- 
ers and  canvassing  freemen  ! 

"I  knew  things  were  difScult,"  said  Ferrars  ;  ''but  I  was 
in  hopes  that  there  Avere  yet  some  seats  that  we  might  com- 
mand." 

"No  doubt  there  are,"  said  Mr.  Barrou  ;  ''but  they  are 
few,  and  they  are  occupied— at  least  at  present.  But,  after  all,  a 
thousand  things  may  turn  up,  and  you  may  consider  nothing 
definitively  arranged  till  Sir  Robert  arrives.  The  great  thing 
is  to  be  on  the  spot." 

Ferrars  wrote  to  his  wife  daily,  and  kept  her  minutely  ac- 
quainted with  the  course  of  affairs.  She  agreed  with  Barron 
that  the  great  thing  was  to  be  on  the  spot.  She  felt  sure  that 
something  would  turn  up.  She  was  convinced  that  Sir  Robert 
would  send  for  him,  offer  him  the  Cabinet,  and  at  the  same  time 
provide  him  with  a  seat.  Her  own  inclination  was  still  in  fa- 
vor of  a  great  colonial  or  foreign  appointment.  She  still  han- 
kered after  India  ;  but  if  the  cabinet  were  offered,  as  was  cer- 
tain, she  did  not  consider  that  William,  as  a  man  of  honor, 
could  refuse  to  accept  the  trust  and  share  the  peril. 

So  Ferrars  remained  in  London  under  the  roof  of  the  Rod- 
neys. The  feverish  days  passed  in  the  excitement  of  political 
life  in  all  its  manifold  forms,  grave  council  and  light  gossip, 
dinners  with  only  one  subject  of  conversation,  and  that  never 
palling,  and  at  last,  even  evenings  spent  again  under  the  roof 
of  Zenobia,  who,  the  instant  her  winter  apartments  were  ready 
to  receive  the  world,  had  hurried  up  to  London  and  raised  her 
standard  in  St.  James'  Square.  "  It  was  like  old  days,"  as  her 
husband  had  said  to  Ferrars  v/lien  they  met  after  a  long  separa- 
tion. 

Was  it  like  old  days  ?  he  thought  to  himself  when  he  was 
alone.    Old  days,  when  the  present  had  no  care,  and  the  future 


FEE R A  US  RETUnXS  HOME. 


73 


who  rc- 
to  him- 
lC  would 
;ainty  of 
the  mass 
Orange 
i-pound- 

ut  I  was 
rht  com- 


thcy  are 

iter  all,  a 

nothing 

3at  thing 


was  all  hope ;  when  ho  was  proud,  and  justly  proud,  of  the 
public  position  he  had  achieved,  and  of  all  the  splendid  and 
felicitous  circumstances  of  life  that  had  clustered  round  him. 
lie  thought  of  those  away,  and  with  whom  during  the  last 
three  years  he  had  so  continuously  and  intimately  lived.  And 
his  hired  home  that  once  had  been  associated  only  in  his  mind 
with  exile,  imprisonment,  misfortune,  almost  disgrace,  became 
hallowed  by  affections,  and  in  the  agony  of  the  suspense,  which 
now  involved  him,  and  to  encounter  which  he  began  to  think 
his  diminished  nerve  unequal,  lie  w  uild  have  bargained  for  the 
rest  of  his  life  to  pass  undisturbed  in  that  sweet  solitude,  in  the 
delights  of  study  and  the  tranquillity  of  domestic  love. 

A  little  not  unamiable  weakness  this,  but  it  passed  off  in 
the  morning  like  a  dream,  when  Mr.  Ferrars  heard  that  Sir 
Piobert  had  arrived. 


lutely  ac- 
h  Barron 
sure  that 
lir  Eobert 
;ame  time 
ill  in  fa- 
Istill  han- 
was  cer- 
if  honor, 

I  the  Rod- 
political 
it  gossip, 
^al:  never 
the  roof 
)re  ready 
lised  her 
,"  as  her 
separa- 

|n  he  was 

le  future 


ClIAPTEK  XVIII. 

It  was  a  dark  December  niglit  when  ]\Ir.  Ferrars  returned 
to  Iliirstlcy.  Ilis  wife,  accompanied  by  the  gardener  with  Or 
lantern,  met  liim  on  tlie  green.  She  embraced  him,  and  whis- 
pered, *•'  Is  it  very  bad,  love  ?    I  fear  you  liavc  softened  it  to 


me 


g  ?> 


'•'  By  no  means  bad,  and  I  told  you  the  trutli ;  not  all,  for 
had  I,  my  letter  would  have  been  too  late.  lie  said  nothing 
about  the  cabinet,  but  offered  me  a  high  post  in  his  govern- 
ment, provided  I  could  secure  my  seat.  That  was  impossible. 
During  the  montli  I  was  in  town  I  had  realized  that.  I  thought 
it  best,  therefore,  at  once  to  try  the  other  tack,  and  nothing 
could  be  more  satisfactory." 

"Did  you  say  anything  about  India  ?''  she  said  in  a  very 
low  voice. 

"I  did  not.  He  is  an  honorable  man,  but  ho  is  cold,  and 
my  manner  is  not  distinguished  for  abandon.  I  thought  it 
best  to  speak  generally,  and  leave  it  to  him.  He  acknowledged 
my  claim,  and  my  fitness  for  such  posts,  and  said  if  his  govern- 


I*  < . 


Iji 


I 


74 


FXU  YMioy. 


ment  lusted  it  would  gratify  him  to  meet  my  -wishes.  BaiTon 
.says  the  government  will  last.  They  will  have  a  majority,  and 
if  Stanley  and  (Iraliam  had  joined  them,  they  would  have  had 
not  an  inconsiderable  one.  But  in  that  case  I  should  probably 
not  have  had  the  cabinet,  if  indeed  he  meant  to  offer  it  to  me 


now. 

'*  Of  course  he  did,"  said  his  wife 


''  AVho  has  such  claims 
as  you  have  ?  Well,  now  we  must  hope,  and  watch.  Look 
cnecrful  to  the  children,  for  they  have  been  very  anxious." 

With  this  hint  the  meeting  was  not  unhappy,  and  the 
evening  passed  with  amusement  and  interest.  Endymion  em- 
braced his  father  with  warmth,  and  Myra  hissed  him  on  both 
cheeks.  Mr.  Ferrars  had  a  great  deal  of  gossip  which  interest- 
ed his  wife,  and  to  a  certain  degree  his  children.  The  latter 
of  course  remembered  Zenobia,  and  her  sayings  and  doings 
were  always  amusing.  There  were  anecdotes  too  of  illustrious 
persons  which  always  interest,  especially  when  in  the  personal 
experience  jI  those  with  whom  avo  are  intimately  connected. 
What  the  Duke,  or  Sir  Robert,  or  Lord  Lyndhurst,  said  to 
papa  seemed  doubly  wiser  or  brighter  than  if  it  had  been  said 
to  a  third  person.  Their  relations  with  the  world  of  power, 
and  fashion,  and  fame,  seemed  not  to  be  extinct,  at  least  re- 
viving from  their  torpid  cjndition.  Mr.  Ferrars  had  also 
brought  a  German  book  for  Myra;  and  "as  for  you,  Endym- 
ion," he  said,  '*  I  have  been  much  more  successful  for  you  than 
for  your  father,  though  I  hope  I  shall  not  have  myself  in  the 
long  run  to  complain.  Our  friends  are  faithful  to  us,  and  I 
have  got  you  put  down  on  the  private  list  for  a  clerkship  both 
in  the  Foreign  Office  and  the  Treasury.  They  are  the  two  best 
things,  and  you  Avill  have  one  of  the  first  vacancies  that  Avill 
occur  in  eitiier  department.  I  know  your  mother  wishes  you 
to  be  in  the  Foreign  Office.  Let  it  be  so  if  it  come.  I  confess, 
myself,  remembering  j'our  grandfather's  career,  I  have  always 
a  weakness  for  the  Treasury,  but  so  long  as  I  see  you  w^ell 
planted  in  Whitehall,  I  shall  be  content.  Let  me  see,  you  will 
be  sixteen  in  March.  I  could  have  wished  you  to  wait  another 
year,  but  we  must  be  ready  when  the  opening  occurs." 

The  general  election  in  1834-'35,  though  it  restored  the  bal- 


4 


THE  MINISTRY  SAXGUINE. 


75 


Barron 

rity,  and 

luivc  had 

probiibly 

it  to  me 

L'h  claims 
1.      Look 

OllS, 

and   the 
mion  cm- 
1  on  Ijotli 
1  intcrcst- 
rho  latter 
lid  doings 
illustrious 
3  personal 
connected. 
st,  said  to 
1  been  said 
of  power, 
least  re- 
had  also 
Endym- 
yon  than 
,elf  in  the 
lis,  and  I 
ship  both 
0  two  best 
that  will 
ishes  you 
I  confess, 
TO  always 
you  well 
,  you  will 

it  another 

J) 

d  the  bal- 


ance of  parties,  did  not  secure  Sir  Robert  Peel  a  majority,  and 
tlic  anxiety  of  tlie  family  at  Ilurstley  was  proportionate  to  the 
occasion.  Barron  was  always  sanguine,  but  the  vote  on  the 
speakership  could  not  but  alarm  them.  Barron  said  it  did  not 
signify,  and  that  Sir  Robert  had  resolved  to  go  on,  and  had 
confidence  in  his  measures.  Ilis  measures  were  excellent,  and 
Sir  Robert  never  displayed  more  resource,  more  energy,  and 
more  skill,  than  he  did  in  the  spring  of  1R35,  But  knowledge 
of  human  nature  was  not  Sir  Robert  Peel's  strong  point,  and  it 
argued  some  deficiency  in  that  respect,  to  suppose  that  the  fit- 
ness of  his  measures  could  disarm  a  vindictive  opposition.  Oji 
the  contrary  they  rather  whetted  their  desire  of  revenge,  and 
they  were  doubly  loath  that  he  should  increase  his  reputation  by 
availing  himself  of  an  opportunity  which  they  deemed  the  Tory 
party  had  unfairly  acquired. 

After  the  vote  on  the  speakership,  ^Mr.  Ferrars  was  offered 
a  second-class  West  Indian  government.  His  wife  would  not 
listen  to  it.  If  it  were  Jamaica,  the  offer  might  be  considered, 
though  it  could  scarcely  be  accepted  without  great  sacrifice. 
The  children,  for  instance,  must  bo  left  at  home.  Strange  to 
say,  Mr.  Ferrars  Avas  not  disinclined  to  accept  the  inferior  post. 
Endymion  lie  looked  upon  as  virtually  provided  for,  and  Myra, 
lie  thouglit,  might  accompany  them  ;  if  only  for  a  year.  But 
ho  ultimately  yielded,  though  not  without  a  struggle,  to  the 
strong  feeling  of  his  wife. 

*^I  do  not  see  why  I  also  should  not  be  left  behind,"  said 
Myra  to  her  brother  in  one  of  their  confidential  walks.  *'  I 
should  like  to  live  in  London  lod2:in£fs  with  vou." 

The  approaching  ap})ointment  of  her  brother  filled  her  from 
the  first  with  the  greatest  interest.  She  was  always  talking  of 
it  when  the}  were  alone — fancying  his  future  life,  and  planning 
how  it  might  Le  happier  and  more  easy.  "  My  only  joy  in  life 
is  seeing  you,"  she  sometimes  said,  ''and  yet  this  separation 
does  not  make  me  unhappy.  It  seerus  a  chance  from  heaven 
for  you.     I  pray  every  night  it  may  be  the  Foreign  OlTice." 

The  ministry  were  still  sanguine  as  to  their  prospects  in  the 
month  of  March,  and  they  deemed  that  public  opinion  was 
rallying  round  Sir  Robert.     Perhaps  Lord  John  Russell,  who 


7C 


EXDYMIOy. 


w;<s  tliu  It'iulcr  of  the  oi»pojitiun,  Tclt  tliis,  in  some  degree,  liim- 
.seli",  and  he  dtterniiued  to  bring  ulTuirs  to  a  crisis  by  notice  of 
a  motion  respecting  tlie  ai>pro])riation  of  the  revenues  of  the 
Irish  Church.  Tlicn  Barron  wrote  to  Mr.  Ferrars  that  affairs 
did  not  look  so  well,  and  advised  him  to  come  up  to  town,  and 
take  anytliing  that  offered.  ''It  is  something,"  he  remarked, 
*'to  have  sometliing  to  give  up.  We  shall  not,  I  suppose, 
always  be  out  of  office,  and  they  get  preferred  more  easily 
Avliosc  promotion  contriljutes  to  patronage,  even  while  tliey 
claim  its  exercise." 

The  ministry  were  in  a  minority  on  the  Ir!  h  Church  on 
April  2d,  the  day  on  which  Mr.  Ferrars  arrived  in  town.  They 
did  not  resign,  but  the  attack  was  to  be  repeated  in  another 
form  on  the  Gth.  During  the  terrible  interval  Mr.  Ferrars 
made  distracted  visits  to  Downing  Street,  saw  secretaries  of 
state,  who  syi..pathized  with  him  notwithstanding  their  own 
chagrin,  and  was  closeted  daily  and  hourly  with  under-secreta- 
rics,  parliamentary  and  permanent,  who  really  alike  wished  to 
serve  him.  But  there  was  nothing  to  br  had.  He  was  almost 
meditating  taking  Sierra  Leone,  or  the  Cold  Coast,  when  the 
resignation  of  Sir  Robert  Peel  was  announced.  At  the  last 
moment,  there  being,  of  course,  no  vacancy  in  the  Foreign 
Otfiee  or  the  Treasury,  he  obtained  from  Barron  an  ai)point- 
ment  for  Endymion  ;  and  so,  after  having  left  Ilurstley  five 
months  before  to  become  (iovcrnor-General  of  India,  this  man, 
"who  had  claims,"  returned  to  his  mortified  home  with  a 
clerkship  for  his  son  in  a  second-rate  'lovernment  office. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Disappointment  and  distress,  it  might  be  said  despair, 
seemed  fast  settling  again  over  the  devoted  roof  of  Ilurstley  af- 
ter three  years'  truce  of  tranquillity.  Even  the  crushing  termi- 
nation of  her  worldly  hopes  was  forgotten  for  the  moment  by 
^Irs.  Ferrars  in  her  anguish  at  the  prospect  of  separation  from 
Endymion.     Such  a  catastrophe  she  had  never  for  a  moment 


EXD  YMIOX'S  A  PPOLVniEy T. 


k  I 


ec,  liim- 
lotico  ol' 
IS  of  the 
,t  affairs 
i\vn,  tiiid 
marked, 
suppose, 
re  easily 
lile  they 

iiirch  on 

1.     They 

another 

Ferrars 

itaries  of 

licir  own 

r-secrcta- 

ivishcd  to 

as  ahnost 

'hen  the 

the  hist 

Foreign 

ajipoint- 

;tley  tive 

his  man, 

Avith  a 


[despair, 
stley  af- 
termi- 
lent  by 
ki  from 
homent 


contcmphitcd.  Tine  it  was  she  liad  heen  deliglited  witli  the 
Fcheine  of  his  entering  the  Foreign  Ollice,  but  that  was  on  the 
assumption  tliat  she  was  to  cntor  ofhee  liersilf,  and  tliat,  wliat- 
cver  might  be  the  >conG  of  the  daily  hibors  of  licr  darling  eliihl, 
her  roof  sliould  ])e  liis  home,  and  licr  indulgent  care  alw;iys  at 
his  command.  But  tluit  fr^he  was  absolutely  to  part  with  En- 
dvmion.  and  that,  at  liis  tender  afije,  he  was  to  be  launched 
alone  into  the  wide  worhl,  was  an  idea  tliat  ,-he  could  not  en- 
tertain or  even  comprehend.  AViio  was  to  (  othe  him,  and 
feed  him,  and  tend  him.  and  >ave  him  from  Ijcing  run  over, 
and  guide  and  guard  him  in  all  the  difhculties  and  dangers  of 
this  mundane  existence  ?  It  was  nuidness,  it  was  impossible. 
But  Mr.  Ferrari?,  thougli  gentle,  was  firm.  Xo  (hj'-.bt  it  was  to 
be  wished  that  the  event  eoukl  have  been  post})oned  for  a  year  ; 
but  its  occurrence,  unlets  all  prospect  of  establishment  in  life 
Averc  surrendered,  Avas  inevitable,  and  a  slight  delay  would 
hardly  render  the  conditions  under  which  it  happened  less  try- 
ing. Though  Endvmion  Avas  oidv  sixteen,  lie  was  tall  and 
manly  bevond  his  aw,  and  durimi  the  latter  vears  of  his  life 
hi.?  naturally  sweet  temper  and  genial  disposition  had  been 
Fchoolcd  in  self-discipline  and  self-sacrifiee.  He  Avas  not  to  be 
Avholly  left  to  strangers  ;  j\Ir.  Ferrars  had  -poken  to  llodney 
about  receiving  him,  at  least  for  the  present,  and  steps  Avould 
be  taken  that  those  Avho  presided  oa  er  his  otlice  Avould  be  inllu- 
enccd  in  his  favor.  The  appointment  Avas  certainly  not  e(|ual 
to  Avhat  had  been  originally  anticipated  ;  but  still  the  depart- 
ment, though  not  distinguished,  Avas  highly  respectable,  and 
there  Avas  no  reason  on  earth,  if  the  opportunity  offered,  that 
Endvmion  should  not  be  remoA'ed  from  his  present  post  to  one 
in  the  higher  departments  of  the  state.  But  if  this  ojjcning 
Avere  rejected,  what  Avas  to  be  the  future  of  their  son  ?  'I'hey 
could  not  afford  to  send  him  to  the  University,  nor  did  ^Mr. 
Ferrars  Avish  him  to  take  refuire  in  the  bosom  of  the  Church. 
As  for  the  army,  they  had  noAV  no  interest  to  acquire  commis- 
sions, and  if  they  could  succeed  so  far,  they  could  not  make 
him  an  allowance  Avliich  Avould  i)ermit  him  to  maintaiji  him- 
self as  became  his  rank.  The  civil  service  remained,  in  uliieli 
his  grandfather  had  been  eminent,  and  in  Avhich  his  oaa'u  par- 


T8 


KXD  YMIOy. 


eat,  ;it  any  rato,  tlioiigh  the  victim  ui"  a  revolution,  luul  not 
disgraced  iiiniself.  It  s-eemcd,  under  tlie  circumstances,  tlie 
mitural  avenue  for  tlieir  child.  At  least,  he  thought  it  ought 
to  be  tried,  lie  Avished  nothing  to  he  settled  without  the  full 
concurrence  of  Endyniion  himself.  The  matter  should  be  put 
fairly  and  clearly  before  him,  '"and  for  this  pur^jose,"  con- 
cluded Mr.  Ferrars,  *•  I  have  just  sent  for  him  to  my  room  ;" 
and  he  retired. 

The  interview  between  the  father  and  son  was  long.  When 
Kndymion  left  the  room  his  countenance  was  pale,  but  its  ex- 
l)ression  was  lirm  and  determined.  lie  went  forth  into  the 
garden  and  there  he  saw  Myra.  '"  llow  long  you  have  been  ! " 
she  said  ;  '"  I  have  been  watching  for  you.      What  is  settled  ?" 

lie  took  her  arm,  and  in  silence  led  her  away  into  one  of 
the  glades.  Then  he  said  :  ''I  have  settled  to  go,  and  I  am 
resolved,  so  long  as  I  live,  that  J  will  never  cost  dear  papa  an- 
other shilling.  Things  here  are  very  bad,  quite  as  bad  as  you 
have  sometimes  fancied.  Pnit  do  not  say  anything  to  poor 
mamma  about  them.*' 

Mr.  Ferrars  resolved  tliat  Endymion  shouhl  go  to  London 
immediately,  and  the  preparations  for  his  departure  were  ur- 
gent. Myra  did  everything.  If  she  had  been  the  head  of  a 
family  she  could  not  have  been  more  thoughtful  or  apparently 
more  experienced.  If  she  had  a  doubt,  she  stepped  over  to 
Mrs.  Penruddock  and  consulted  her.  As  for  Mrs.  Ferrars, 
she  had  become  very  unwell  and  unable  to  attend  to  anything. 
Her  occasional  interference,  fitful  and  feverish,  and  without 
adequate  regard  to  circumstances,  only  embarrassed  them. 
But,  generally  speaking,  she  kept  to  her  own  room,  and  was 
always  weeping. 

The  last  day  came.  Xo  one  pretended  not  to  be  serious  and 
grave.     Mrs.  Ferrars  did  not  appear,  but  saAV  Endymion  alone. 

She  did  not  speak,  but  locked  him  in  her  arms  for  many 
minutes,  and  then  kissing  him  on  the  forehead,  and,  by  a  gen- 
tle motion,  intimating  that  he  should  retire,  she  fell  back  on 
her  sofa  with  closed  eyes.  He  was  alone  for  a  short  time  with 
his  father  after  dinner.  Mr.  Ferrars  said  to  him:  ''I  have 
treated  you  in  this  matter  as  a  man,  and  I  have  entire  confi- 


IMOaEXE. 


79 


1,  luul  not 
;iinc'cs,  the 
t  it  ought 
lit  the  full 
uld  l)e  i)ut 
io.se,"  con- 
ly  room  ;  " 

ig.  When 
but  its  cx- 
li  into  the 
ive  been  ! " 
5  settled  ?  " 
into  one  of 
and  I  am 
^1"  })apa  an- 
bad  as  you 
tig  to  i)Oor 

to  London 

■c  were  nr- 

licad  of  a 

apparently 

led  over  to 

.   Fcrrars, 

anything. 

d  without 

Iscd   them. 

[\,  and  was 

Icrious  and 
lion  alone, 
for  many 
by  a  gen- 
Ill  back  on 
I  time  with 
''I  have 
It  ire  confi- 


% 


donee  in  V(m.  Your  business  in  life  is  (o  build  up  again  a  fam- 
ily which  was  once  honored." 

Myra  was  still  coi)ying  inventories  when  he  returned  to  the 
drawing-room.  ''These  are  for  myself,"  she  said,  *' so  I  shall 
always  know  Avhat  you  ought  to  have.  Though  you  go  so  ear- 
ly, I  shall  make  your  breakfast  to-morrow,"  and,  leaning  back 
on  the  sofa,  she  took  his  hand.  '*  Things  are  dark,  and  I  fancy 
they  will  be  darker;  but  brightness  will  come,  somehow  or 
other,  to  you,  darling,  for  you  are  born  for  brightness.  Y(»u 
will  find  friends  in  life,  and  they  will  be  women." 

It  was  nearly  three  years  since  Endymion  had  ti-aveied  dow'i 
to  Hurstley  by  the  same  coach  that  was  now  carrying  him  to 
London.  Though  ajiparently  so  uneventful,  the  jjcriod  had 
not  been  unimportant  in  the  formation,  doubtless  yet  partial, 
of  his  character.  And  all  its  influences  had  been  bcnc(lci;i\  to 
him.  The  crust  of  pride  and  selfishness  with  which  large  pros- 
l)erity  and  illimitable  indulgence  had  incased  a  kind,  and  far 
from  presumptuous,  disposition  had  ])een  removed  ;  the  domes- 
tic sentiments  in  their  sweetness  and  i>urity  had  been  devel- 
oped ;  he  had  acquired  some  skill  in  scholarshij)  and  no  incon- 
siderable fund  of  sound  information  ;  and  the  routine  of  reli- 
gious tliought  had  been  superseded  in  his  instance  by  an  amount 
of  knowledge  and  feeling  on  matters  theological,  unusual  at 
his  time  of  life.  Though  ai)[)arently  not  gifted  with  any  dan- 
gerous vivacity,  or  fatal  facility  of  acquisition,  his  mind  seemed 
clear  and  painstaking,  and  distinguished  l)y  common  sense. 
He  was  brave  and  accurate. 

Mr.  Rodney  was  in  waiting  for  him  at  the  inn.  Tic  seemed 
a  most  distinguished  ^rentleman.  A  hacknev-coach  carried 
them  to  "Warwick  Street,  where  he  was  welcomed  bv  ]\Irs.  Kod- 
ney,  Avho  was  exquisitely  dressed.  There  was  also  her  sister, 
a  girl  not  older  than  Endymion,  the  very  image  of  ^Irs.  Rod- 
ney, except  she  was  a  brunette — a  brilliant  brunette.  This 
sister  bore  the  romantic  name  of  Imogene,  for  Avhich  she  was 
indebted  to  lier  father  performing  the  part  of  the  husband 
of  the  heroine  in  Maturin's  tiagedy  of  the  *' Castle  of  St.  Al- 
dobrand,"  and  which,  under  the  inspiration  of  Kcan,  had  set 
the  town  in  a  blaze  about  the  time  of  her  birth.     Tea  was 


80 


EXDYMIOX. 


\ 


t  ,  I 


jiwaiting  li::/.,  and  tlicrc  was  a  mixture  in  their  several  manners 
of  not  ungraceful  hospitality  and  the  remembrance  of  past  de- 
pendence, wliich  Avas  genuine  and  not  uninteresting,  though 
Endymion  was  yet  too  inexperienced  to  observe  all  this. 

Mrs.  Eodnoy  talked  very  mucii  of  Endymion's  mother  ;  her 
wondrous  beauty,  lier  more  wondrous  dresses  ;  the  splendor  of 
lier  fetes  and  equipages.  As  she  dilated  on  tlie  past,  she 
seemed  to  share  its  luster  and  its  triuni})hs.  "  The  first  of  the 
land  were  always  in  attendance  on  her,"  and  for  Mrs.  Rodney's 
part,  she  never  saw  a  real  horsewoman  since  her  dc.r  lady. 
Her  sister  did  not  speak,  but  listened  with  rapt  attention  to 
the  gorgeous  details,  occasionally  stealing  a  glance  at  Endym- 
ion— a  glance  of  deep  interest,  of  admiration  mingled  as  it 
were  both  witli  reverence  and  pity. 

Mr.  Eodney  took  up  the  conversation  if  his  wife  paused. 
lie  spoke  of  all  the  leading  statesmen  Avho  had  been  the  habit- 
nal  companions  of  Mr.  Ferrars,  and  threw  out  several  anecdotes 
resi)ecting  them  from  jiersonal  experience.  ''I  knew  them 
all,"'  continued  Mr.  Rodney,  'I  might  say  intimately ; "  and 
tlieri  lie  told  his  great  anecdote,  how  he  had  been  so  fortunate 
as  pcrliaps  even  to  save  the  Duke's  life  during  the  Reform  Bill 
riots.  "Ilis  Grace  had  never  forgotten  it,  and  only  the  day 
before  yesterday  I  met  him  in  St.  James'  Street  walking  with 
Mr.  Arbuthnot,  and  he  touched  his  liat  to  me."' 

All  this  gossip  and  good  nature,  and  the  kind  and  lively 
scene,  saved  Endymion  from  the  inevitable  pang,  or  at  least 
greatly  softened  it,  which  accompanies  our  first  separation  from 
liome.  In  due  ser.son,  Mrs.  Rodney  observed  that  she  doubted 
not  Mr.  Endymion,  for  so  they  ever  called  him,  must  be 
■wearied  with  his  journey,  and  would  '.ikc  to  retire  to  his  room  ; 
and  her  husband,  immediately  lighting  Ji  candle,  prepared  to 
introduce  their  new  lodger  to  his  quarters. 

It  Avas  a  tall  house,  which  had  recently  been  renovated, 
with  a  story  added  to  it,  and  on  this  story  was  Endymion's 
chamber  ;  not  absolutely  a  garret,  but  a  modern  substitute  for 
that  sort  of  a})artment.  "Ii  is  rather  high,"  said  Mr.  Rodney 
}ialf  apologizing  for  the  ascent,  "but  Mr.  Ferrars  himself  cheso 
the  room.     "We  took  the  liberty  of  ll'^hting  a  fire  to-night." 


AT  SOMERSI-Jr  UOUSE. 


81 


[  manners 
:  past  de- 
T,  though 
lis. 

thcr  ;  her 
)lcndor  of 
past,  she 
irst  of  the 
Eodncy's 
Icr  lady. 
:cntion  to 
;  Endym- 
^Icd  as  it 

'e  paused, 
the  habit- 
anecdotes 
new  them 
2ly  ; "  and 
fortunate 
form  Bill 
y  the  day 
king  Avith 

md  lively 

(r  at  least 

Ition  from 

doubted 

must  be 

lis  room  ; 

■pared  to 

hiovated, 
|lymion's 
titute  for 
1  Rodney. 
Iclf  che  ic 
rht." 


And  the  cheerful  blaze  was  welcome.  It  lit  up  a  rnoni  clean 
and  not  uncomfoi  table.  Feminine  solicitude  had  lashionrd  a 
toilet-table  for  him,  and  there  was  a  bunch  of  geraniums  in  u 
blue  vase  on  its  si)arkling  dimity  garniture.  "  1  sui)pose  you 
have  in  your  bag  all  that  you  want  at  present  ?"  said  Mr.  Kod- 
nev.  "  To-morrow  we  Avill  unpack  y(»ur  trunks  and  arrange 
vonr  things  in  their  drawers;  and  after  breakfast,  if  you 
please,  I  will  show  you  your  way  to  Somerset  House." 

Somcnet  House  !  thought  Emlymion,  as  he  stood  l)eforc 
the  lire  alone.  Is  it  so  near  as  that  ?  To-morrow,  and  1  am 
to  be  at  Somerset  House  !  And  then  he  thought  of  what  they 
were  doing  at  llurstley — of  that  terrible  i)arting  with  his 
mother,  which  made  him  choke — and  of  his  father's  last  words. 
And  then  he  tliought  of  Myra,  and  the  tears  stole  down  his 
cheek.     And  then  he  knelt  down  l>y  his  bedside  and  i)rayed. 


CHAPTER   XX. 


Mr.  Rodxey  Avould  have  accompanied  Endymion  to  Som- 
erset House  under  any  circumstances,  but  it  so  happened  that 
ho  had  reasons  of  his  own  for  a  visit  to  that  celebrated  build- 
inir.  He  had  occasion  to  see  a  gentleman  who  was  stationed 
there.  "Not,"  as  he  added  to  Endymion,  '•  that  T  know  many 
here,  but  at  the  Treasury  and  in  Downing  Street  I  have  several 
ac(juaintance3." 

They  separated  at  the  door  in  the  great  quadrangle  which 
led  to  the  department  to  which  Endymion  Avas  attached,  and 
he  contrived  in  due  time  to  deliver  to  a  messeuf^er  a  letter 
addressed  to  his  future  chief.  lie  was  kept  some  time  in  a 
gloomy  and  almost  unfurnished  waiting-room,  and  his  thoughts 
in  a  desponding  mood  Avere  gathering  round  the  dear  ones  Avho 
Avcrc  distant,  Avhen  ho  Avas  summoned,  and,  following  the  mes- 
senger doAvn  a  passage,  was  ushered  into  a  lively  apartment  on 
Avliieh  the  sun  was  shining,  and  Avhich,  Avith  its  well-lined  book- 
shelves, and  tables  coA'cred  Avitli  })apers,  and  bright  noisy  clock, 
and  general  air  of  habitation  and  business,  contrasted  favorably 


!H 


|1        !^ 


l!:« 


r 


1 1  ■; 


82 


ENDYMION. 


Avitli  the  room  be  had  jii^t  (|uittcd.  A  good-natured-looking 
man  held  out  his  hand  and  welcomed  him  cordially,  and  said 
at  once,  '*I  served,  Mr.  Ferrars,  under  your  grandfather  at  the 
Treasur}',  and  I  am  glad  to  see  you  here."  Then  he  spoke  of 
the  duties  which  Endymion  would  have  at  present  to  discharge. 
His  labors  at  first  would  be  somewhat  mechanical ;  they  would 
require  only  correctness  and  diligence  :  but  the  otHce  was  a 
large  one,  and  jn'omotion  not  only  sure,  but  sometimes  rapid, 
and  as  he  was  so  young,  he  might  with  attention  count  on  at- 
taining, while  yet  in  the  prime  of  life,  a  future  of  very  respon- 
sible duties  and  of  no  inconsiderable  emolument.  .  And  while 
he  was  speaking  he  rang  the  bell  and  commanded  the  attend- 
ance of  a  clerk,  under  whose  care  Endymion  was  specially 
placed.  This  was  a  young  man  of  pleasant  address,  who  in- 
vited Endymion  Avith  kindness  to  accompany  him,  and  leading 
him  through  several  chambers,  some  capacious,  and  all  full  of 
clerks  seated  on  high  stools  and  Avriting  at  desks,  finally  ush- 
ered him  into  a  smaller  chamber  where  there  were  not  above 
six  or  eight  at  Avork,  and  where  there  was  a  vacant  seat.  "  This 
is  your  place,"  he  said,  ''and  now  I  will  introduce  you  to  your 
future  comrades.  This  is  Mr.  Jawett,  the  greatest  Kadical  of 
the  age,  and  who,  when  he  is  President  of  the  Republic,  will  I 
hope  do  a  job  for  his  friends  here.  This  is  Mr.  St.  Barbe,  who, 
when  the  public  taste  has  improved,  will  be  the  most  popular 
author  of  the  day.  In  the  mean  time  he  will  give  you  a  copy 
of  liis  novel,  which  has  not  sold  as  it  ought  to  have  done,  and 
in  which  we  say  he  has  quizzed  all  his  friends.  This  is  Mr. 
Seymour  Ilicks,  who,  as  you  must  perceive,  is  a  man  of  fash- 
ion." And  so  he  went  on,  with  what  was  evidently  accustomed 
raillery.  All  laughed,  and  all  said  something  courteous  to 
Endymion,  and  then  after  a  few  minutes  they  resumed  their 
tasks,  Endymion's  Avork  being  to  copy  long  lists  of  figures,  and 
routine  documents  of  public  accounts. 

In  the  mean  time  Mr.  St.  Barbe  was  busy  in  draAving  up  a 
public  document  of  a  diUcreut  but  important  character,  and 
Avhicli  Avas  conceived  something  in  this  fashion  : 

"We,  the  undersigned,  highly  approA'ing  of  the  personal 
ai)iiearancc  and  manners  of  our  new  colleague,  arc  unanimously 


cd-looking 

:,  ami  said 

;hcr  at  the 

le  spoke  of 

discharge. 

hey  ^voidd 

lice  was  a 

mes  rapid, 

•unt  on  at- 

iry  rcspon- 

Aiid  while 

he  attcnd- 

3  specially 

js,  who  iii- 

nd  leading 

all  full  of 

iiially  ush- 

not  above 

.t.     '-'  This 

oil  to  your 

Ihidical  of 

blic,  will  1 

irbe,  who, 

>t  popular 

ou  a  copy 

[done,  and 

lis  is  Mr. 

In  of  fasli- 

customcd 

rteous  to 

mcd  their 

fures,  and 

ring  up  a 
jcter,  aud 

personal 
[nimously 


i 


JOE'S. 


83 


of  opinion  that  he  should  be  invited  to  join  our  symposium  to- 
day at  the  immortal  Joe's.  * ' 

1'his  was  quietly  passed  round  and  signed  by  all  present, 
and  tlien  given  to  Mr.  Trenchard,  who,  all  unconsciously  to 
the  copying  Endymion,  wrote  upon  it,  like  a  minister  of  state, 
''Approved,"'  with  his  initial. 

.Joe's,  more  technically  known  as  ''The  Blue  Posts,"  was  ti 
celebrated  chop-house  in  Nascby  Street,  a  large,  low-ceilingcd, 
Avainscotcd  room,  with  the  floor  strcAvn  with  sawdust,  and  a 
hissing  kitchen  in  the  center,  and  fitted  up  with  what  were 
called  boxes,  these  being  of  various  sizes,  and  suitable  to  the 
number  of  the  guests  requiring  them.  About  this  time  the 
fashionable  coffee-houses,  George's  and  the  Piazza,  and  even 
the  cotree-rooms  of  Stevens'  or  Long's,  had  begun  to  feel  the 
injurious  competitions  of  the  new  clubs  that  of  late  years  had 
been  established  ;  but  these,  after  all,  were  limited,  and,  com- 
paratively speaking,  exclusive  societies.  Their  influence  had 
not  touched  the  chop-houses,  and  it  required  another  quarter 
of  a  century  before  their  cheerful  and  hospitable  roofs  and  the 
old  taverns  of  London,  so  full,  it  ever  seemed,  of  merriment 
and  Avisdom,  yielded  to  the  gradually  increasing  but  irresistible 
influence  of  those  innumerable  associations,  which,  under  clas- 
sic names,  or  affecting  to  be  the  junior  branches  of  celebrated 
confederacies,  have  since  secured  to  the  million,  at  cost  price, 
all  the  delicacies  of  the  season,  and  substituted  for  the  zealous 
energy  of  immortal  Joes  the  inexorable  but  frigid  discipline  of 
managing  committees. 

•'You  are  our  guest  to-day,"  said  Mr.  Trenchard  to  Endym- 
iou.  "Do  not  be  embarrassed.  It  is  a  custom  Avith  us,  but 
not  a  ruinous  one.  We  dine  off  the  joint,  but  the  meat  is  first- 
rate,  and  you  may  have  as  much  as  you  like,  and  our  ti})ple  is 
half-and-half.  Perhai)s  you  do  not  knoAV  it.  Let  me  drink  to 
your  health." 

They  ate  most  heartily  ;  but  Avhen  their  Avell-earnod  meal  was 
dispatched,  their  conversation,  assisted  by  a  moderate  portion  of 
some  celebrated  toddy,  became  animated,  various,  and  interest- 
ing. Endymion  was  highly  amused  •.  but  being  a  stranger,  and 
the  youngest  present,  his  silence  Avas  not  unbecoming,  and  his 


Si 


ENDYMIOX. 


\ 


manner  indicated  that  itwa.s  not  occasioned  by  want  of  sym- 
patliy.  The  talk  was  very  political.  They  were  all  what  are 
called  Liberals,  having  all  of  them  received  their  appointments 
since  the  catastrophe  of  1830  ;  but  the  shades  in  the  color  of 
their  opinions  Avcre  various  and  strong.  Jawett  was  uncom- 
promising ;  rutlilessly  logical,  his  principles  being  clear,  he 
was  for  what  he  called  "carrying  them  out"  to  their  just 
conclusions.  Trencliard,  on  the  contrary,  thought  everything 
ought  to  be  compromise,  and  that  a  public  man  ceased  to  be 
practical  the  moment  he  was  logical.  St.  Barbo  believed  that 
literature  and  the  arts,  \d  intellect  generally,  had  as  little 
to  hope  for  from  one  par  as  from  the  other  ;  while  Seymour 
llicks  was  of  opinion  tluu  the  Tories  never  would  rally,  owing 
to  their  deficiency  in  social  iriflucnco-.  Se3'mour  Hicks  some- 
times got  an  invitation  to  a  ministerial  soiree. 

The  vote  of  the  House  of  Commons  in  favor  of  an  appro- 
priation of  the  surplus  revenues  of  the  Irish  Church  to  the 
purposes  of  secular  education — a  vote  which  had  just  changed 
the  government  and  expelled  the  ies — was  much  discussed. 
Jawett  denounced  it  as  a  miserable  subterfuge,  but  with  a  mild- 
ness of  manner  and  a  mincing  expression,  which  amusingly  con- 
trasted Avitli  the  violence  of  his  principles  and  the  strength  of 
his  language. 

''  The  whole  of  the  revenues  of  the  Protestant  Church  should 
be  at  once  appropriated  to  secular  education,  or  to  some  other 
purpose  of  general  utility,'' he  said.  '"Audit  must  come  to 
this." 

Trencliard  thought  the  ministry  had  gone  as  far  in  this  mat- 
ter as  they  well  could,  and  Seymour  Ilicks  remarked  that  any 
Government  Avliich  systematically  attacked  the  Church  would 
luive  "society"  against  it.  Endymion,  who  felt  very  nervous, 
but  Avho  on  Church  questions  had  strong  convictions,  ventured 
to  ask  why  the  Church  should  be  deprived  of  its  property. 

"In  the  case  of  Ireland,"  replied  Jawett,  cpiite  in  a  tone  of 
conciliatory  condescension,  "because  it  does  not  fulfill  the  pur- 
pose for  which  it  was  endowed,  it  ba-i  got  the  property  of  the 
nation,  and  it  is  not  the  Charah  of  the  people.  But  I  go  fur- 
ther than  that.    I  vrouM  disendow  c  vtu'}  Church.     They  are  not 


AFTER-DIXXER   TALK. 


80 


t  of  sym- 
■\vhat  are 
3iiitmcntrf 
e  color  of 
IS  imcom- 
clcar,  ho 
tlieir  just 
iverything 
isGcl  to  be 
cvcd  tliat 
1  as  little 
3  Seymour 
lly,  owing 
cks  somc- 

an  appro- 
•cli  to  tlie 
t  clianged 
discussed, 
til  a  mild- 
ingly  con- 
Itrcno'th  of 

•cli  should 

me  other 

It  come  to 

this  mat- 
that  any 
[•ch  would 
nervous, 
1  ventured 
jerty. 
1  a  tone  of 
the  pur- 
ity of  the 
]l  go  fur- 
jy  are  not 


productive  institutions.     There  is  no  reason  why  they  should 
exist.     There  is  no  use  in  them."' 

'  \o  use  in  the  Church  !"  said  Endvmion,  reddeninir ;  but 
Mr.  Trcnchard,  who  had  tact,  here  interfered,  and  said,  "I 
told  you  our  friend  Jawctt  was  a  great  IJadical ;  but  he  is  in  a 
minority  among  us  on  there  matters.  Everybody,  however, 
says  what  they  like  at  Joe's." 

Then  they  talked  of  theatres,  and  critically  discussed  tl\o 
articles  in  tlie  daily  papers  and  the  last  new  book,  and  tliero 
was  much  discussion  respecting  a  contemplated  subscription 
boat ;  but  still,  in  general,  it  was  remarkable  how  they  relapsed 
into  their  favorite  subject — speculation  upon  men  in  otlice, 
both  permanent  and  parliamentary,  upon  their  cliaracters  and 
capacity,  their  habits  and  temi)ers.  One  was  a  good  adminis- 
trator, another  did  nothing  ;  one  had  detail,  another  too 
much  ;  one  was  a  screw,  another  a  si)enaLhrif  t ;  this  man  could 
make  a  set  speech,  but  could  not  reply  ;  his  rival,  capital  at  a 
reitly,  but  clumsy  in  a  formal  oration. 

At  this  time  London  was  a  very  dull  city,  instead  of  being, 
as  it  is  now,  a  very  amusing  one.  Probably  there  never  was  a 
city  in  the  world,  with  so  vast  a  population,  Avhich  was  so  mel- 
ancholy. The  aristocracy  pi'obably  have  always  found  amuse- 
ments adapted  tn  the  manners  of  the  time  and  the  age  in  Avhich 
they  liA'ed.  The  middle  classes,  half  a  century  ago,  had  little 
distraction  from  their  monotonous  toil  and  melancholy  anx- 
ieties, except,  perhaps,  what  they  found  in  religious  and  philan- 
thropic societies.  Their  general  life  must  have  been  very  dull. 
Some  traditionary  merrin  i.  ;it  always  lingered  among  the  work- 
ing classes  of  England.  Both  in  town  and  country  tliey  had 
always  their  games  and  fairs  and  junketing  parties,  which  have 
developed  into  excursion  trains  and  colossal  picnics.  But  of  all 
classes  of  the  community,  in  the  days  of  our  fathers,  there  was 
none  so  unfortunate  in  respect  of  public  amusements  as  the  bach- 
elors about  toAvn.  There  were,  one  might  almost  say,  only  two 
theatres,  and  they  so  huge,  tliat  is  was  dilHcult  to  see  or  hear 
in  either.  Tht  \  monopolies,  no  longer  redeemed  by  the  stately 
genius  of  tlie  KembL'S,  the  i)athos  of  Miss  O'Neill,  or  the  fiery 
passion  of  Kean,  were  already  menaced,  and  were  soon  about 


m 


If! 


86 


E^  D  YMIOX. 


to  full ;  but  tlic  croAvd  of  diniinutivo  Init  sparkling  substitutes, 
which  have  since  tiikcn  their  place,  had  not  yet  appeared,  and 
half-price  at  J)rury  Lane  or  Covcnt  Garden  was  a  dreary  dis- 
traction after  a  morning  of  desk  work.  There  were  no  Alhani- 
Ijras  then,  and  no  Cremornes,  no  palaces  of  crystal  in  terraced 
gardens,  no  casinos,  no  music-halls,  no  a({uaria,  no  promenade 
concerts.  Evans  existed,  but  not  in  the  fullness  of  its  modern 
development ;  and  the  most  popular  place  of  resort  wi's  the 
barbarous  conviviality  of  the  Cider  Cellar. 

Mr.  Trenchard  had  paid  the  bill,  collected  his  quotas  and 
rewarded  the  waiter,  and  then,  as  they  all  rose,  said  to  Endym- 
ion,  *' We  arc  going  to  the  divan.     Do  you  smoke  ?" 

Endymion  shook  his  head;  but  Trenchard  added,  "Well, 
you  will  somr  day ;  but  you  had  better  come  with  us.  You 
need  not  smoke  ;  j'ou  can  order  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  then  you 
may  read  all  the  newspapers  and  magazines.  It  is  a  nice 
lounge." 

So,  emerging  :'rom  Naseby  Street  into  the  Strand,  they  soon 
entered  a  tobacconist's  shop,  and  passing  through  it  were  ad- 
mitted into  a  capacious  saloon,  well  lit  and  fitted  uj-)  with  low, 
broad  sofas,  fixed  against  the  walls,  and  on  which  were  seated, 
or  reclining,  many  persons,  chiefly  smoking  cigars,  but  some 
few  practicing  with  the  h.ookah  and  other  oriental  modes.  In 
the  center  of  the  room  was  a  table  covered  with  newspapers 
and  publications  of  that  class.  The  companions  from  Joe's 
became  separated  after  their  entrance,  and  St.  Barbe,  address- 
ing Endymion  said,  ''I  am  not  inclined  to  smoke  to-day.  Wc 
will  order  some  coffee,  and  you  will  find  some  amusement  in 
this";  and  he  placed  in  his  hands  a  number  of  'SSeara- 
moucli." 

'*  I  hope  you  will  like  your  new  life,"  said  St.  Barbe,  throw- 
ing down  a  review  on  the  divan,  and  leaning  back  sipping  his 
coffee.  "  One  thing  may  be  said  in  favor  of  it :  you  will  work 
with  a  body  of  as  true-hearted  comrades  as  ever  existed.  They 
are  always  i"ondy  to  assist  one.  Thorough  good-natured  fel- 
lows, that  I  will  say  for  them.  I  sujipose  it  is  adders ity,"  he 
continued,  ''that  develops  the  kindly  qualities  of  our  nature. 
I  l>elieve  the  sense  of  com h ion  degradation  has  a  tendency  to 


i 


sr.  nARBirs  grievasces. 


ibstitutes, 
!ared,  and 
Lreary  dis- 
10  Alliani- 
ti  terraced 
iromenado 
ts  modern 
t  Wi's  the 

uotas  and 
o  Eiidym- 

cl,  '*  Well, 
us.  You 
then  you 
is  a  nice 

they  soon 
t  were  ad- 
witli  low, 
re  seated, 
hut  .some 
odes.  In 
wspapers 
•om  Joe's 
,  address- 
lay.  We 
cmcnt  in 
Scara- 

Ic,  throw- 
nping  his 
Ivill  work 
They 
lured  fel- 
sity,"  ho 
nature, 
dency  to 


87 
T  am 


i 


make  tlie  degraded  amiable — at  least  among  themselves, 
told  it  is  found  so  in  the  plantations  in  slave-gangs." 

'•  But  I  hope  we  are  not  a  slave-gang,"  said  Endymion. 

*•  It  is  horrible  to  think  of  gentlemen,  and  men  of  educa- 
tion, and  perhaps  first-rate  talents — who  knows  ? — reduced  to 
our  straits,"  said  St.  Barbe.  '^  I  do  not  follow  Jawett  in  all 
his  views,  for  I  hate  political  economy  and  never  could  under- 
stand it ;  and  he  gives  it  you  pure  and  simple,  eh  ?  eh  ? — but  I 
sav  it  is  something  awful  to  think  of  the  incomes  that  some 
men  arc  nudving,  who  could  no  more  write  an  article  in  '  Scara- 
mouch' than  lly." 

*•  Bui  our  incomes  may  im})rovc,"  said  Endymit)n.  ''  I  was 
told  to-day  that  proiuotion  was  even  rapid  in  our  oOice." 

''Our  incomes  may  improve  Avhen  we  are  bent  and  gray," 
said  St.  Barbe,  ''and  Ave  may  even  retire  on  a  pension  about  as 
good  as  a  nobleman  leaves  to  his  valet.  Oh,  it  is  a  horrid 
Avorld  !    Your  father  is  a  privy  councilor,  is  not  he  ?  " 

"Yes,  and  so  Avas  my  grandfather,  but  I  do  not  think  I 
shall  CA'er  be  one." 

"It  is  a  great  thing  to  have  a  father  a  privy  councilor,"' 
said  St.  Barbe,  with  a  glance  of  euA'y.  "If  I  were  the  son  of 
a  privy  councilor,  those  demons,  Shuflle  and  Screw,  Avouldgive 
nie  £500  for  my  novel,  which  noAV  they  put  in  their  bcast- 
1\  magazine  and  print  in  small  type,  and  do  not  ])ay  me  so 
nmch  as  a  poAvdered  ilunkey  has  in  St.  James's  Square.  I  ugive 
with  JaAvett  :  the  whole  thing  is  rotten." 

"Mr.  JaAA'ctt  seems  to  haA'c  A-ery  strange  opinions,"  said 
Endymion.  "I  did  not  like  to  hear  what  he  said  at  dinner 
about  the  Church,  but  Mr.  Trenchard  turned  the  conversation, 
and  I  thought  it  best  to  let  it  pass." 

''Trenchard  is  a  sensible  man,  and  a  good  felloAv,"  said  St. 
Barbe  ;  "you  like  him  ?" 

"I  find  him  kind." 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  St.  Barbe,  in  a  AA'hisper,  and  Avith  a 
di-tressed  and  almost  vindictiA'C  expression  of  countenance, 
"that  man  may  come  any  day  into  four  thousand  a  year. 
There  is  only  one  life  between  him  and  the  present  owner.  I 
belieA"e  it  is  a  good  life,"  he  added,  in  a  more  cheerful  voice. 


I 


■"  1 


1'^     I    ! 


SS 


ENDYMIOX. 


*'but  iitiU  it  miglit  luijipcn.  Is  it  not  liorrible  ?  Four  thou- 
sand a  year  !  Trenchard  Avith  four  thousand  a  year,  and  avc 
receiving  little  more  than  the  jiay  of  a  butler  ! '' 

'•  Well,  I  wish,  for  his  sake,  he  mighi  have  it,"  said  Eu- 
clymion,  "though  I  might  lose  a  kind  friend." 

"Look  at  Seymour  Ilicks,"  said  St.  Iiarbe ;  "he  has 
smoked  his  cigar,  and  he  is  going,  lie  never  remains.  He  is 
going  to  a  party,  I'll  be  bound.  That  fellow  gets  about  in  a 
most  extraordinary  manner.  Is  it  not  disgusting  ?  I  doubt 
whether  he  is  asked  much  to  dinner  though,  or  I  think  avc 
should  have  heard  of  it.  Nevertheless,  Trenchard  >aid  the 
other  day,  that  Ilicks  had  dined  M'ith  Lord  Ciiu^ue-rorts.  I 
can  hardly  believe  it ;  it  Avould  be  too  disgusting.  Xo  lord 
ever  asked  me  to  dinner.  But  the  aristocracy  of  this  country 
arc  doomed  ! " 

**Mr.  Ilieks,"  said  Endymion,  "probably  lays  himself  out 
for  societv." 

"I  sup])o?c  you  will,"  said  St.  Barbc,  Avith  a  scrutinizing 
air.  "I  should  if  I  Avere  the  son  of  a  priA'y  councilor.  Ilicks 
is  nothing  ;  his  fill  her  kept  a  stable-yard  and  his  mother  AA^as 
an  r.ctrcHH.  We  I  o',  e  had  seATral  dignitaries  of  the  Church  in 
my  family  and  one  admiral.  And  yet  Ilicks  dines  with  Lord 
Cin(pie-Ports  !  It  is  positiA'ely  rcA'olting  !  But  the  things  he 
does  to  get  asked  ! — sings,  rants,  conjures,  A'cntriloquizcs, 
mimics,  stands  on  his  head.  His  great  peiformance  is  a  par- 
liamentary debate.  "We  Avill  make  him  do  it  for  you.  And  yet 
Avith  all  this  a  dull  dog — a  very  dull  dog,  sir.  He  Avrote  for 
*  Scaramouch '  some  little  time,  but  they  can  stand  it  no  more. 
Between  you  and  me,  he  has  had  notice  to  quit.  That  I  knoAv  ; 
and  he  will  proljably  get  the  letter  when  he  goes  home  from  his 
miiy  iu-night.     So  i^iuch  for  success  in  society  !     I  shall  noAv 


Four  thou- 
ear,  and  wo 

,"  said  Eii- 

;  '*Jic  1ki3 
lins.  Uq  is 
5  about  in  a 
•?  I  doubt 
I  tliiuk  we 
rd  said  tho 
ic-Ports.  I 
J,  Xo  lord 
this  country 

himself  out 

scrutinizing 

lor.     Ilicks 

mother  was 

I  Church  in 

with  Lord 

e  things  lie 

triloquizes, 

CG  is  a  par- 

And  yet 

wrote  for 

it  no  more. 

at  I  know  ; 

ne  from  his 

diall  now 


FynvMioy  at  JionxEvs. 


CIIArTER   XXI. 


89 


It  Avas  only  ten  o'clock  when  Endymion  returned  to  War- 
wick Street,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  used  a  luiss-key, 
with  which  Mr.  Rodney  had  furnished  him  in  the  morning, 
and  reentered  his  new  home.  He  thought  he  hud  n^ed  it  very 
(quietly,  and  was  lighting  his  i  iindio  and  about  to  steal  u})  to 
his  lofty  heighi^s  when  from  the  door  of  tho  parlor,  which 
o];oned  into  the  passage,  emerged  Miss  Imogcne,  who  took  the 
candlestick  from  his  hand  and  insisted  on  Availing  upon  him. 

''I  thought  I  heard  something,"'  she  said  ;  "you  must  let 
me  light  you  up,  for  you  can  hardly  yet  know  your  Avay.  I 
must  see  too  if  all  is  right ;  you  nniy  Avant  something." 

So  she  tripped  up  lightly  before  him,  shoAving,  doubtless 
without  premeditation,  as  Avell-turned  an  ankle  and  as  pretty  a 
foot  as  could  fall  to  a  damsel's  fortunate  lot.  "  My  sister  and 
Mr.  Iiodney  have  gone  to  the  play,*'  she  said,  "but  they  left 
strict  injunctions  Avith  mo  to  sec  that  aou  Avire  comfortid)le, 
and  that  you  Avanted  for  nothing  that  avc  could  sup])ly." 

"You  are  too  kind,"  said  Endymion,  as  she  lighted  the 
candles  on  his  dressing-table,  "and  to  tell  you  the  truth  these 
are  luxuries  lam  not  accu-fomed  to,  and  to  Avhich  I  am  not 
entitled." 

"'And  A'ct,"  she  said,  Avltli  a  glance  of  blended  admiration 
and  pity,  "they  tell  me  time  Avas  Avhen  gold  was  not  good 
enough  for  you,  and  I  do  not  think  it  coidd  be." 

"Such  kindness  as  this,"  said  Endymion,  "is  more  pre- 
cious than  gold." 

"I  hope  you  will  find  your  things  Avell  amin^T'd.  All  j-our 
clothes  arc  in  these  two  draAvers  ;  the  coats  in  tlu'  bottom  one, 
and  your  linen  in  those  aboA'c.  You  will  not  perb.ij)S  be  able 
to  find  your  pocket-handkerchiefs  at  first.  They  are  in  this 
■sichet ;  my  sister  made  it  herself.  Mr.  Rodney  says  you  are  to 
ho  called  at  eight  o'clock  and  breakfast  at  nine.  1  think  cvery- 
tliiiig  is  right.     Good-night,  Mr.  Endymion." 

The  Rodney  household  was  rather  a  strange  one.  The  first 
tAvo  floors,  as  avo  have  mentioned,  Avere  let,  and  at  expensive 


:ft, 


IM 


III;;  ; 


I    I 


1  I 


yij 


END  YM I  ox. 


rates,  for  the  Jipartnients  wore  capacious  and  capitally  furnislieLl, 
and  the  situation,  if  not  distinguished,  was  extremely  conven- 
ient— quiet  from  not  being  a  thoroughfare,  and  in  the  heart  of 
civilization.  They  only  kept  a  couple  of  servants,  but  their 
principal  lodgers  had  their  personal  atteiuhmts.  And  yet  after 
sunset  the  sisters  appeared  and  presided  at  their  tea-table, 
always  exquisitely  dressed  ;  seldom  alone,  for  Mr.  Ivodney  had 
many  friends,  and  lived  in  a  capacious  apartment,  rather  finely 
furnished  with  a  round  table  covered  with  gaudy  print-books, 
a  mantel-piece  crowded  with  vases  of  mock  Dresden,  and  a 
cottage  piano  on  Avhich  Imogene  could  accompany  hor  more 
than  pleasing  voice. 

SomehoAV  or  other,  the  process  is  diillcuU  to  trace,  Endymi- 
on  not  unfre([uently  found  himself  at  ^Irs.  Rodney's  tea-table. 
On  the  lirst  occasion  or  so,  he  felt  himself  a  little  shy  and  em- 
barrassed, but  it  soon  became  natural  to  him,  and  lie  would 
often  escape  from  the  symposia  at  Joe's,  and  instead  of  the 
Divan,  lind  in  Warwick  Street  a  more  congenial  scene.  There 
were  generally  some  young  men  there,  who  seemed  delighted 
with  the  ladies,  listened  with  enthusiasm  to  Imogenc's  singing, 
and  were  alloAvod  to  smoke.  They  Avcre  evidently  gentlemen, 
and  indeed  ^Ir.  Rodney  casually  mentioned  to  Endymion  that 
one  of  the  most  frequent  guests  might  some  day  even  be  a  peer 
of  the  realm.  Sometimes  there  was  a  rubber  of  whist,  and, 
if  wanted,  Mrs.  Rodney  took  a  hand  in  it ;  Endymion  sitting 
apart  and  conversing  with  her  sister,  avIio  amused  him  by  her 
lively  observations,  indicating  even  flashes  of  culture  ;  but  al- 
ways addressed  him  without  the  slightest  pretense  and  with  the 
utmost  naturalness.  This  was  not  the  case  Avith  Mr.  Rodney  ; 
pretense  Avith  him  Avas  ingrained,  and  he  Avas  at  lirst  somewhat 
embarrassed  by  the  presence  of  Endymion,  as  he  could  hardly 
maintain  before  his  late  patron's  son  his  favorite  character  of 
the  aristocratic  A'ictim  of  revolution.  And  yet  this  draAvl  ick 
AA'as  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  gratification  of  his  van- 
ity in  finding  a  Ferrars  his  habitual  guest.  Such  a  luxury 
seemed  a  dangerous  indulgence,  but  he  could  not  resist  it,  and 
the  moth  Avas  ahvays  flying  round  the  candle.  There  Avas  no 
danger,  hoAvever,  and  that  ]Mr.  Rodney  soon  found  out.     En- 


WHIST  AXD  sr/'p /■:!:. 


01 


(■furnisliod, 
cly  conven- 
:hc  heart  of 
,  but  their 
1(1  yet  after 
[•  tea-table, 
■vodney  had 
Litlier  finely 
triiit-books, 
den,  and  a 
y  hor  more 

e,  Endynii- 
's  tea-ta]>le. 
ly  and  eni- 
I  he  •\vouId 
ead  of  the 
ne.     There 
I  delighted 
^^'s  singing, 
,^cntlemen, 
mi  on  that 
be  a  peer 
hi.st,  and, 
ion  sitting 
ini  by  her 
,  but  al- 
1  with  the 
Iiodney  ; 
jomewhat 
d  hardly 
ractcr  of 
-Irawl:  ick 
his  van- 
luxury 
t  it,  and 
was  no 
it.     En- 


i 


dvniion  was  born  with  tact,  and  it  came  to  him  as  much  from 
•'•Qodness  of  heart  as  fineness  of  taste,  yr.  IJodney,  tlicrefore, 
.soon  resumed  his  anecdotes  of  great  men  and  his  personal 
experience  of  their  sayings,  manners,  and  customs,  with  which 
he  was  in  the  habit  of  enlivening  o,  ornamenting  the  whist- 
table  ;  occasionally  introducing  Endymion  to  the  notice  of  the 
table  by  mentioning  in  a  low  tone,  "That  is  Mr.  Ferrars,  in  a 
certain  sense  under  my  care  ;  iii  uitlier  is  a  privy  counciU)r, 
and  had  it  not  been  for  the  revolution — for  1  maintain,  and 
alwavs  will,  the  IJeform  Bill  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  a 
revolution — would  }»robably  have  been  Prime  Minister.  Ilr 
was  my  earliest  and  my  best  friend." 

AVlien  there  Averc  cards,  there  Avas  always  a  little  su})per  :  a 
lobster  and  a  roastrd  potato  and  that  sort  of  easy  thing,  and 
curious  drinks,  which  the  sisters  mixed  and  made,  and  which 
no  one  else,  at  least  all  said  so,  could  mix  and  make.  On  fit- 
ting occasions  a  bottle  of  champagne  ai)peared,  and  then  the 
person  for  whom  the  wiue  was  i)roduced  was  sure  with  wonder- 
ment to  say,  ''Where  did  you  get  this  champagne,  Kodney  ? 
Could  vou  get  me  some?''  ]Mr.  Rodnev  shook  his  head  and 
scarcely  gave  a  hope,  but  subse(juently,  when  the  praise  in 
consequence  had  continued  and  increased,  would  observe,  ''  Do 
you  really  want  some  ?  I  can  not  promise,  Ijut  I  will  try.  Of 
course  thev  Avill  ask  a  high  figure." 

"Anything  they  like,  my  dear  Iiodney." 

And  in  about  a  week's  time  the  gentleman  was  so  fortunate 
as  to  get  his  cham})agne. 

There  was  one  subject  on  which  Mr.  Iiodney  appeared  to  be 
particularly  interested,  and  that  Avas  racing.  The  turf  at  that 
time  had  not  developed  into  that  vast  institution  of  national 
demoralization  Avhich  it  noAV  exhibit^:.  That  disastrous  charac- 
ter may  be  mainly  attributed  to  the  determination  of  our  legis- 
lators to  put  doAvn  gaming-houses,  and  Avhich,  practically 
speaking,  substituted  for  tlie  pernicious  folly  of  a  comparative- 
ly limited  class  the  ruinous  madness  of  the  community.  There 
Averc  many  influences  by  Avhich  in  the  highest  clas;-cs  persons 
might  be  discouraged  or  deterred  from  play  under  a  roof  ;  and 
in  the  great  majority  of  cases  such  a  habit  was  difficult,  not  to 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14530 

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iV 


"92 


ENDYMIOK 


Mi 


say  impossible,  to  indulge.  But  in  shutting  up  gaming-liouscp, 
we  brought  the  gaming-table  into  the  street,  and  its  practices 
bc'jame  the  pursuit  of  those  who  would  otherwise  have  never 
witnessed  or  even  thought  of  them.  No  doubt  Crockford's 
lu:d  its  tragedies,  but  all  its  disasters  and  calamities  together 
would  hardly  equal  a  luster  of  the  ruthless  havoc  which  has 
cn.med  from  its  suppression. 

Nevertheless,  in  1835  men  made  books,  and  ;Mr.  Piodney 
was  not  inexpert  in  a  com})osition  which  requires  no  ordinary 
qualities  of  character  and  intelligence  ;  method,  judgment, 
self-restraint,  not  too  much  imagination,  perception  of  charac- 
ter, and  powers  of  calculation.  All  these  qualities  were  now 
in  active  demand  and  exercise  ;  for  the  Derby  was  at  hand,  and 
the  Rodney  family,  deeply  interested  in  the  result,  were  to 
iittend  the  celebrated  festival. 

One  of  the  j'oung  gentlemen,  who  sometimes  smoked  a 
cigar  and  sometimes  tasted  a  lobster  in  tlieir  parlor,  and  who 
seemed  alike  and  equally  devoted  to  Mrs.  Rodney  and  her  sis- 
ter, insisted  upon  taking  tlieni  to  Epsom  in  his  drag,  and  they 
themselves  were  to  select  the  party  to  accompany  them.  Tliat 
was  not  difficult,  for  they  Avere  naturally  all  friends  of  their 
munificent  host  with  one  exception.  Imogcne  stipulated  tluit 
Endymion  should  be  asked,  and  ^h\  Rodney  supported  the 
suggestion.  ''  lie  is  the  son  of  the  privy  councilor  the  Right 
Hon.  William  Pitt  Ferrars,  my  earliest  and  my  best  friend,  and 
in  a  certain  sense  is  under  my  care." 

The  drive  to  the  Derby  was  not  then  shorn  of  its  humors 
and  glories.  It  was  the  Carnival  of  England,  with  equipages 
as  numerous  and  various,  and  with  banter  not  less  quick  and 
witty.  It  was  a  briglit  da}' — a  day,  no  doubt,  of  wild  hopes 
and  terrible  fears,  but  yet,  on  the  Avhol.-,  of  joy  and  exultation. 
And  no  one  was  happier  and  prouder  than  pretty  Mrs.  Rodney, 
exquisitely  dressed  and  sitting  on  the  box  of  a  patrician  drag, 
beside  its  noble  OAvner.  On  the  seat  behind  them  was  Imogcne, 
with  Endymion  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  the  individual 
*'  who  might  one  day  be  a  peer."  Mr.  Rodney  and  some 
ethers,  including  Mr.  Vigo,  faced  a  couple  of  grooms,  wlio  sat 
with  folded  arms  and  unmoved  countenances,  fastidiouslv. stolid 


<i 


AFTER   THE  DERBY. 


95 


g-llOUSOP, 

practices 

ive  never 

•ockford's 

together 

rliich  lias 

'.  Rodney 
'  ordiniiry 
adgmcnt, 
)f  cliarac- 
werc  now 
land,  and 
,  "svere  to 

:moked  a 
and  vrho 

d  her  sis- 
and  they 

n.     Tliat 

of  tlicir 

ted  tliat 

ted  tho 

le  Riglit 

iend,  and 

liumors 

juipagcs 

lick  and 

d  hopes 

ultation. 

Rodney, 

an  drag, 

mogene, 

dividual 

id  soino 

who  sat 

ilv, stolid 


amid  all  the  fun,  and  grave  even  when  they  opened  tlie  cham- 
pagne. 

The  right  horse  won.  Mr.  Rodney  and  his  friends  pocketed 
a  f^ood  stake,  and  they  demolished  their  luncheon  of  luxuries 
with  frantic  gayety. 

*'  It  is  almost  as  happy  as  our  little  suppers  in  Warwick 
Street,"  whispered  their  noble  driver  to  his  companion. 

"'  Oh  I  much  more  than  anything  you  can  find  there,"  sim- 
pered Mrs.  Rodney. 

*'I  declare  to  you,  some  of  tho  happiest  hours  of  my  life 
have  heen  passed  in  Warwick  Street,"'  gravely  murmured  her 
friend. 

**  I  wish  I  could  believe  that,"  said  Mrs.  Rodney. 

As  for  Endymion,  he  enjoyed  himself  amazingly.  The 
whole  scene  was  new  to  him — he  had  never  been  at  a  race  be- 
fore, and  this  was  the  most  famous  of  races.  lie  did  not  know 
he  had  betted,  liut  he  found  he  too  had  won  a  little  money,. 
Mr.  Rodney  having  ])ut  him  on  something,  though  what  that 
meant  he  had  not  the  remotest  idea,  Imogcne,  however,  as- 
sured him  it  was  all  right,  ]\Ir.  Rodney  constantly  put  her  on 
something,  lie  enjoyed  the  luncheon  too  ;  the  cold  chicken, 
and  the  French  i)ies,  the  wondrous  salads,  and  tho  iced  cham- 
pagne. It  seemed  that  Imogene  was  always  taking  care  that 
his  plate  or  his  glass  should  be  filled.  Everything  was  delight- 
ful, and  his  noble  host,  who,  always  courteous,  had  hitherto 
been  reserved,  called  him  "Ferrars." 

"What  with  the  fineness  of  the  weather,  the  inspiration  of 
the  excited  and  countl'  oS  multitude,  the  divine  stimulus  of  the 
luncheon,  the  kindness  of  his  charming  companions,  and  the 
general  feeling  of  enjoyment  and  success  that  seemed  to  per- 
vade his  being,  Endymion  felt  as  if  he  were  almost  acting  a 
distinguished  part  in  some  splendid  triumph  of  antiquity,  as 
returning  home,  the  four  splendid  dark  chestnuts  swept  along, 
two  of  their  gay  company  playing  bugles,  and  the  grooms  sit- 
ting with  folded  arms  of  haughty  indifference. 

Just  at  this  moment  his  eye  fell  upon  an  omnibus  full,  in- 
side and  out,  of  clerks  in  his  office.  There  was  a  momentary 
.stoppage,  and  while  he  returned  the  salute  of  several  of  them,. 


94 


END  YMIOX. 


}>  ■ 


his  quick  eye  could  not  avoid  recognizing  the  sliglitly  surprised 
glance  of  Trenchard,  the  curious  amazement  of  Seymour  Ilicks, 
and  the  indignant  aston^hoient  of  St.  Barbe. 

"Our  friend  Fcrrars  f.cems  in  tiptop  company,"'  said  TiX-n- 
chard. 

*'  That  may  have  been  a  countess  on  the  box,"  said  Seymour 
Hicks,  "for  I  observed  an  earl's  coronet  on  the  drag.  lean 
not  make  out  who  it  is." 

*' There  i^  no  more  advantage  in  going  Avith  four  horses 
than  with  two,"  said  St.  Barbe;  ''indeed,  I  believe  you  go 
slower.  Ic  is  mere  pride  ;  puffed  up  vanity.  I  should  like  to 
send  those  two  grooms  witli  their  folded  arms  to  the  galleys — 
I  hate  those  fellows.  For  my  part,  I  never  was  behind  four 
horses  except  in  a  stage  coach.  No  peer  of  the  realm  ever 
took  mo  on  his  drag.  However,  a  day  of  reckoning  will  come  ; 
the  people  won't  stand  this  much  longer." 

Jawett  was  not  there,  for  he  disapproved  of  races. 


i 


I 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ExDYMiON  had  to  encounter  a  rather  sharp  volley  when  he 
went  to  the  office  next  morning.  After  some  general  remarks 
as  to  the  distinguished  party  which  he  had  accompanied  to  the 
races,  Seymour  Hicks  could  not  resist  inquiring,  though  with 
some  circumlocution,  whether  the  lady  was  a  countess.  The 
lady  was  not  a  countess.  Who  was  the  lady  ?  The  lady  was 
^Irs.  Rodney.  Who  was  Mrs.  Rodney  ?  She  was  the  wife  of 
Mr.  Rodney,  who  accompanied  her.  Was  Mr.  Rodney  a  rela- 
tion of  Lord  Rodney  ?  Endymion  believed  he  was  not  a  rela- 
tion of  Lord  Rodney.  Who  was  Mr.  Rodney  then  ? 
'•  Mr,  Rodney  is  an  old  friend  of  my  father  ?" 
This  natural  solution  of  doubts  and  difficulties  arrested  all 
further  inquiry.  Generally  speaking,  the  position  of  Endymion 
in  his  ncAV  life  was  satisfactor}-.  He  was  regular  and  assiduous 
in  his  attendance  at  his  office,  Avas  popular  Avith  his  comrades, 
and  was  cherished  by  his  chief,  who  had  even  invited  him  to 


WALDERSnARE. 


95 


surprised 
ur  Ilicks, 

lid  Tion- 

Scvmour 
g.     I  cull 

lur  liorses 
-c  you  go 
Id  lilic  to 
galleys- 
hind  four 
calm  ever 
vill  come ; 


wlicn  he 
il  remarks 
led  to  the 
)ugli  with 
less.     The 

lady  was 
lie  wife  of 
icy  a  rela- 

Lot  a  rea- 


rrested all 
pndymion 
(assiduous 
pmrades, 
tl  him  to 


dinner.  Tlis  duties  Avcre  certainly  at  present  mcclianical,  but 
iliey  were  associated  with  an  interesting  profession  ;  and  hum- 
hie  as  was  his  lot,  he  began  to  feel  the  pride  of  public  life.  lie 
continued  to  be  a  regular  guest  at  Joe's,  and  was  careful  not  to 
seem  to  avoid  the  society  of  his  fellow-clerks  in  the  evenings, 
for  he  had  an  instinctive  feeling  that  it  was  as  well  they  should 
not  become  acquainted  Avith  his  circle  in  Warwick  Street.  And 
yet  to  him  the  attractions  of  that  circle  became  dail}'  more  dif- 
ficult to  resist.  And  often  when  he  was  enduring  the  purga- 
tory of  tbe  divan,  listening  to  tlic  snarls  of  St.  Barbc  over  the 
shameful  prosperity  of  everybody  in  this  world  except  the 
snarler,  or  perhaps  went  half-price  to  the  pit  of  Drury  Lane 
with  the  critical  Trenchard,  he  was,  in  truth,  often  restless 
and  absent,  and  his  mind  was  in  another  place,  indulging  in 
visions  \s'[\\c\\  he  diu  ^oi  care  to  analyze,  but  which  were  very 
agreeable. 

One  evening,  shortly  after  the  expedition  to  Epsom,  while 
tlic  rest  were  playing  a  rubber,  Imogenc  said  to  him  :  "  I  wish 
you  to  be  friends  with  Mr.  Vigo  ;  I  think  he  might  be  of  use 
to  you." 

Mr.  Vigo  was  playing  whist  at  this  moment ;  his  partner 
Avas  Sylvia,  and  they  were  playing  against  Mr.  Rodney  and 
Waldershare. 

Waldcrshare  Avas  the  tenant  of  the  second  floor.  He  Avas 
the  young  gentleman  ''who  might  some  day  be  a  peer."  He 
Avas  a  young  man  of  about  three  or  four  and  twenty  years  ; 
fair,  Avith  short  curly  brown  hair  and  blue  eyes ;  not  exactly 
liandsome,  but  Avith  a  countenance  full  of  expression,  and  the 
index  of  ([uick  emotions,  Avhctlicr  of  joy  or  of  anger.  Wakler- 
sliare  was  the  only  child  of  a  younger  son  of  a  patrician  house, 
and  had  inherited  from  his  father  a  moderate  but  easy  fortune, 
lie  had  been  the  earliest  lodger  of  the  Rodneys,  and,  taking 
advantage  of  the  Tory  reaction,  had  just  been  returned  to  the 
House  of  Commons. 

What  he  Avould  do  there  Avas  a  subject  of  interesting  specu- 
lation to  his  numerous  friends,  and  it  may  be  said  admirers. 
Waldersh.ire  was  one  of  those  vivid  and  brilliant  organizations 
J  Avhieh  exercise  a  peculiarly  attractive  influence  on  youth.     He 


9G 


ENDYMIOK. 


had  been  the  hero  of  tlie  debating  club  at  Cambridge,  and 
many  believed  in  consequence  that  he  must  become  prime 
minister.  He  was  witty  and  fanciful,  and  though  capricious 
and  bad-tempered,  could  flatter  and  caress.  At  Cambridge  he 
had  introduced  the  new  Oxford  heresy,  of  which  Nigel  Pen- 
ruddock  was  a  votary.  Waldershare  prayed  and  fasted,  and 
swore  by  Laud  and  Strafford.  He  took,  however,  a  more  emi- 
nent degree  at  Paris  than  at  his  original  Alma  Mater,  and  be- 
coming passionately  addicted  to  French  literature,  his  views 
respecting  both  Church  and  State  became  modified — at  least 
in  private.  Ilis  entrance  into  English  society  had  been  highly 
successful,  and  as  he  had  a  due  share  of  vanity  and  was  by  no 
means  free  from  worldliness,  he  had  enjoyed  and  pursued  his 
triumphs.  But  his  versatile  nature,  which  required  not  only 
constant,  but  novel  excitement,  became  palled,  even  with  the 
society  of  duchesses.  There  was  a  monotony  in  the  splendor 
of  aristocratic  life  wliich  wearied  him,  and  for  some  time  ho 
had  persuaded  himself  that  the  only  people  Avho  understood 
the  secret  of  existence  were  the  family  under  whose  roof  he 
lodged. 

Waldershare  was  profligate,  but  sentimental ;  unprinci2)led, 
but  romantic  ;  the  child  of  whim,  and  the  slave  of  an  imagina- 
tion so  freakish  and  deceptive  that  it  was  always  impossible  to 
foretell  his  course.  lie  was  alike  capable  of  sacrificing  all  his 
feelings  to  worldly  considerations  or  of  forfeiting  the  world 
for  a  visionary  caprice.  At  present  his  favorite  scheme,  and 
one  to  which  he  seemed  really  attached,  was  to  educate  Imo- 
gci\c.  Under  his  tuition  he  had  persuaded  himself  that  she 
would  turn  out  what  he  styled  "a  great  woman."  An  age  of 
vast  change,  according  to  Waldershare,  was  impending  over  us. 
There  v/as  no  male  career  in  which  one  could  confide.  Most 
men  of  mark  would  probably  be  victims,  but  *'  a  gi'cat  woman  " 
must  always  make  her  way.  Whatever  the  circumstances,  she 
would  adapt  herself  to  them  ;  if  necessary,  would  mold  and 
fashion  them.  His  dream  was  that  Imogene  should  go  fortli 
and  conquer  the  world,  and  that  in  the  sunset  of  life  he  should 
find  a  refuge  in  some  corner  of  her  palaces. 

Imogene  was  only  a  child  whei>  Waldershare  first  became  a 


!    i 


AJ^  APT  SCnOLAR. 


97 


ridgo,  and 
)mc  prime 

capricious 
mbridge  he 
Nigel  Pen- 
fasted,  and 
1  more  cmi- 
tcr,  and  be- 
D,  his  views 
cd— at  least 
been  bigbly 
,d  was  by  no 

pursued  bis 
I'cd  not  only 
;cn  with  the 
the  splendor 
ome  time  he 
3  understood 
hose  roof  he 

mprinciplcd, 
an  imagina- 
impossible  to 
lificing  all  his 
g  the  world 
scheme,  and 
xlucate  Imo- 
f  that  she 
An  age  of 
ling  over  us. 
[nfide.     Most 
reat  woman  " 
Instances,  she 
mold  and 
Duld  go  forth 
ife  he  should 

h-st  became  a 


ii 
'I 


i 


lodger.  She  used  to  bring  his  breakfast  to  his  drawing-room 
and.  arrange  his  table.  lie  encountered  her  one  day,  and  he 
requested  her  to  remain,  and  always  preside  over  his  meal.  lie 
fell  in  love  with  her  name,  and  wrote  her  a  series  of  sonnets, 
idealizing  her  past,  panegyrizing  her  present,  and  prophetic  of 
her  future  life.  Imogenc,  who  was  neither  shy  nor  obtrusive, 
was  calm  amid  all  his  vagaries,  liumored  his  fancies,  even  when 
she  did  not  understand  them,  and  read  his  verses  as  she  would 
a  foreign  language  which  she  was  determined  to  master. 

Her  culture,  according  to  Waldersliare,  was  to  be  carried 
on  chiefly  by  conversation.  She  was  not  to  read,  or  at  least 
not  to  read  much,  until  her  taste  was  formed  and  she  had  ac- 
quired the  due  share  of  previous  knowledge  necessary  to  profit- 
able study.  As  Waldershare  was  eloquent,  brilliant,  and  witty, 
Imogene  listened  to  him  with  wondering  interest  and  amuse- 
ment, even  when  she  found  some  difficulty  in  following  liim, 
but  her  apprehension  was  so  quick  and  her  tact  so  fine,  that 
her  progress,  though  she  was  almost  unconscious  of  it,  was 
remarkable.  Sometimes  in  the  evening,  while  the  others  were 
smoking  together  or  playing  whist,  Waldershare  and  Imogene, 
sitting  apart,  were  engaged  in  apparently  the  most  interesting 
converse.  It  was  impossible  not  to  observe  the  animation  and 
earnestness  of  Waldershare,  and  the  great  attention  with  which 
his  companion  responded  to  his  representations.  Yet  all  this 
time  he  was  only  giving  her  a  lecture  on  Madame  de  Sevigne. 

Waldershare  used  to  take  Imogene  to  the  National  Gallery 
and  Hampton  Court,  and  other  delightful  scenes  of  popular 
education,  but  of  late  Mrs.  Rodney  had  informed  her  sister  that 
she  ft'as  no  longer  young  enough  to  permit  these  expeditions. 
Imogenc  accepted  the  announcement  without  a  murmur,  but 
it  occasioned  Waldershare  several  sonnets  of  heartrending  re- 
monstrance. Imogene  continued,  lowever,  to  make  his  break- 
fast, and  kept  his  parliamentary  papers  in  order,  which  he 
never  could  manage,  but  the  mysteries  of  which  Imogenc  mas- 
itered  with  feminine  quickness  and  precision.  Whenever  Wal- 
jdershare  was  away  he  always  maintained  a  constant  correspond- 
ence v.ith  Imogene.  In  this  he  communicated  everything  to 
ler  without  the  ^lightest  reserve ;   describing  everything  ho 


98 


EXDYMIOX. 


I       ! 


.saw,  iilmost  everything  he  licard,  pages  teeming  with  anecdotes 
of  a  world  of  which  she  could  know  lothing — the  sccret-s  of 
courts  and  coteries,  memoirs  of  princes  and  ministers,  of  dan- 
dies and  dames  of  fashion.  **If  anything  happens  to  me," 
"Waldershare  would  say  to  Imogene,  ^'  this  correspondence  may 
be  worth  thousands  to  you,  and  when  it  is  published  it  will 
connect  your  name  with  mine,  and  assist  my  grand  idea  of 
your  becoming  'a  great  woman.'" 

"But  I  do  not  know  Mr.  Vigo,"  whisiicrcd  Endymion  to 
Imogene. 

*'But  you  have  met  him  here,  and  you  went  together  to 
Epsom.  It  is  enough.  He  is  going  to  ask  you  to  dine  with 
him  on  Saturday.  "We  shall  be  there,  and  Mr.  Waldershare  is 
going.  He  has  a  beautiful  place,  and  it  will  be  very  pleasant." 
And  exactly  as  Imogene  had  anticipated,  Mr.  Vigo,  in  the 
course  of  the  evening,  did  ask  Endymion  to  do  him  the  honor 
of  becoming  his  guest. 

The  villa  of  Mr.  Vigo  was  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  and 
had  once  belonged  to  a  noble  customer.  The  Palladian  man- 
sion contained  a  suite  of  chambers  of  majestic  dimensions — 
lofty  ceilings,  rich  cornices,  and  vast  Avindows  of  plate  glass ; 
the  gardens  were  rich  with  the  products  of  conservatoric>s  which 
Mr.  Vigo  had  raised  with  every  modern  improvement,  and  a 
group  of  stately  cedars  supported  the  dignity  of  the  scene  and 
gave  to  it  a  name.  Beyond,  a  winding  walk  encircled  a  large 
field  which  Mr.  Vigo  called  the  park,  and  which  sparkled  with 
gold  and  silver  pheasants,  and  the  keeper  lived  in  a  newly 
raised  habitation  at  the  extreme  end,  which  took  the  form  of  a 
Swiss  cottage. 

The  Rodney  lamily,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Waldershare  and 
Endymion,  went  to  the  Cedars  by  water.  It  was  a  delightful 
afternoon  of  June,  the  river  warm  and  still,  and  the  soft,  fit- 
ful, western  breeze,  occasionally  rich  with  the  perfume  of  the 
gardens  of  Putney  and  Chiswick.  Waldershare  talked  the 
whole  way.  It  was  a  rhapsody  of  fancy,  fun,  knowledge,  anec- 
dote, brilliant  badinage — even  passionate  seriousness.  Some- 
times he  recited  poetry,  and  his  voice  was  musical ;  and  then, 
when  he  had  attuned  his  companions  to  a  sentimental  pitch, 


I 


ARRIVAL  AT  THE  CEDARS. 


l>0 


inccdotcs 
■jccrcts  of 
5,  of  cliin- 
!  to  me," 
.ciicc  may 
icd  it  will 
d  idea  of 

dvmion  to 

ogetlicr  to 
>  dine  with 
dcrsliarc  is 
'  pleasant." 
igo,  in  the 
L  the  honor 

'hamcs,  and 
ladian  man- 
mensions — 
plate  glass; 

oric-i  which 
Inent,  and  a 

Q  scene  and 

cled  a  large 
jarlded  with 

in  a  newly 
c  form  of  a 

rshare  and 
delightful 
Ihe  soft,  fit- 
fume  of  the 
1  talked  the 
;dge,  anec- 
tss.     Some- 
and  then, 
fcntal  pitch. 


he  would  break  into  mockery,  and  toucli  with  delicate  satire 
every  mood  of  human  feeling.  Endymion  listened  to  him  in 
silence  and  admiration.  lie  had  never  heard  Vt'akleivhare 
talk  before,  and  he  had  never  heard  anybody  like  him.  All 
this  time,  what  was  now,  and  ever,  remarkable  in  Wakler- 
share  were  his  manners.  They  were  linislicd,  even  to  court- 
liness. Affable  and  winning,  he  was  never  familiar.  He  al- 
ways addressed  Sylvia  iv.i  if  she  were  one  of  these  duchesses 
round  whom  he  used  to  linger.  He  would  bow  defcrentiallv 
to  her  remarks,  and  elicit  from  some  of  her  casual  observations 
an  acute  or  graceful  meaning,  of  which  she  herself  was  by  no 
means  conscious.  Tb.e  bow  of  WakUrshare  was  a  study.  Its 
grace  and  ceremony  must  have  been  organic  ;  for  there  was  no 
traditionary  type  in  existence  from  which  he  could  have  de- 
rived or  inherited  it.  lie  certainlv  addressed  Imogenc  and 
spoke  of  her  by  her  Christian  name  ;  but  this  was  i)artly  be- 
cause he  was  in  love  with  the  name,  and  partly  because  l;e 
would  persist  in  still  treating  her  as  a  child.  But  his  manner 
to  her  always  was  that  of  tender  rc-^pect,  Slie  was  almost  as 
silent  as  Endymion  during  their  voyage,  but  not  less  attentive 
to  her  friend.  Mr.  l?cuiiey  was  generally  silent,  and  never 
opened  his  mouth  on  this  occasion  except  in  answer  to  an  in- 
quiry from  his  wife  as  to  whom  a  villa  miglit  belong,  and  it 
seemed  always  that  he  knew  every  villa,  aiul  every  one  to  whom 
they  belonged. 

The  sisters  were  in  dcmi-toilct,  which  seemed  artless, 
though  in  fact  it  was  profoundly  devised.  Sylvia  was  the  only 
■jK'rson  who  really  understood  the  meaning  of  '''simijlcx  mun- 
ditiis,"  and  this  was  one  of  the  secrets  of  her  success.  Tlicrc 
Avere  some  ladies,  on  the  lawn  of  the  Cedars  when  they  arrived, 
not  exactly  of  their  school,  and  avIio  vrcre  ilnely  and  fully 
dressed.  Mrs.  Gamme  was  the  wife  of  a  sporting  attorney,  a 
friend  of  Mr.  Vigo,  and  who  also,  having  a  villa  tit  hand,  was 
looked  upon  as  a  country  neighbor.  Mrs.  Gamme  was  univer- 
l  sally  recognized  to  be  a  fine  woman,  and  she  dressed  up  to  her 
jreputation.  She  was  a  famous  whist-player  at  high  points. 
Hid  dealt  the  cards  with  hands  covered  with  diamond  rings. 
[Anotlicr  country  neighbor  was  the  chief  partner  in  the  cclc- 


100 


EXDYMWy. 


briitcd  firm  of  Ilooghley,  Daccii  and  Co.,  dealers  in  Indian  and 
other  shawls.  Mr.  llooghley  had  married  a  celebrated  actress, 
and  was  proud  and  a  little  jealous  of  his  wife.  Mrs.  llooghley 
had  always  an  opportunity  at  tlie  Cedars  of  meeting  some  friends 
in  her  former  profession,  for  Mr.  Vigo  liked  to  be  surrounded 
by  genius  and  art.  *'I  must  have  talent,"  ho  would  exclaim, 
us  lie  looked  round  at  the  amusing  and  motley  multitude  as- 
sembled at  his  splendid  entertainments.  And  to-day  upon  his 
lawn  might  be  observed  the  lirst  tenor  of  the  opera  and  a  prima- 
donna  who  had  just  arrived,  several  celebrated  members  of  the 
English  stage  of  both  sexes,  artists  of  great  reputation,  whose 
principal  works  already  adorned  the  well-selected  walls  of  the 
Cedars,  a  danseusc  or  two  of  celebrity,  some  literary  men,  as 
Mr.  Vigo  styled  them,  who  were  chieily  brethren  of  the  peri- 
odical press,  and  more  than  one  member  of  cither  house  of  Par- 
liament. 

Just  as  the  party  were  preparing  to  leave  the  lawn  and  en- 
ter the  dining-room  arrived,  breathless  and  gloAving,  the  young 
earl  who  had  driven  the  Iiodiieys  to  the  Derby. 

"A  shaver,  my  dear  A'igo  I  Only  returned  to  town  this 
afternoon,  and  found  your  invitation.  How  fortunate  !"  And 
then  he  looked  around,  and  recognizing  ^Irs.  Rodney  was  im- 
mediately at  her  side.  **  I  must  have  the  honor  of  taking  you 
in  to  dinner.  I  got  your  note,  but  only  by  this  morning's 
post." 

The  dinner  was  a  banquet — a  choice  bouquet  before  every 
gnest,  turtle  and  venison  and  piles  of  whitebait,  and  pine-ap- 
ples of  prodigious  size,  and  bunches  of  grapes  that  had  gained 
prizes.  The  champagne  seemed  to  flow  in  fountains,  and  was 
only  interrupted  that  the  guest  might  quaff  Burgundy  or  taste 
Tokay.  But  what  was  more  delightful  than  all  was  the  enjoy- 
ment of  all  present,  and  especially  of  their  host.  That  is  a 
rare  sight.  Banquets  arc  not  rare,  nor  choice  guests,  nor  gra- 
cious hosts  ;  but  when  do  we  ever  see  a  person  enjoy  anything  ? 
But  these  gay  cliildren  of  art  and  whim,  and  successful  labor 
and  happy  speculation,  some  of  them  very  rich  and  some  of 
them  without  a  sou,  seemed  only  to  think  of  the  festive  liour 
and  all  its  joys.     Neither   wealth  nor  poverty  brought  them. 


*& 


Arri'jR  Till-:  nAsorirr. 


ml 


inn  unit 
actress, 
ooglilcy 
)  f  ricntls 
rounded 
exclaim, 
itudc  us- 
upon  Ills 

a  primii- 
n-s  of  the 
>n,  whose 
Us  of  the 
y  men,  as 

the  peri- 
isc  of  Par- 

m  and  cn- 
the  young 


town  this 

ltd"   A^^(^ 
cy  was  inl- 
awing you 
morning's 

Icforc  every 
lid  pine-ap- 
Ihad  gained 
IS,  and  w^as 
idy  or  taste 
the  enjoy- 
That  is  a 
Its,  nor  gra- 
anything  ? 
lessf  ul  hibor 
iiid  some  of 
Icstive  hour 
)ught  them 


care.-'.  Every  face  sparkled,  L^wvy  word  seemed  wiily.  and 
every  sound  seemed  sweet.  A  hand  played  ui)on  tlic  lawn 
during  the  dinner,  and  were  succeeded,  when  the  desert  com- 
menced, by  strange  choruses  from  singers  of  some  foreign  land, 
who  for  the  first  time  aired  their  picturescpie  costumes  on  the 
banks  of  the  Thames. 

When  tlie  ladies  had  withdrawn  to  the  saloon,  the  first 
comic  singer  of  the  age  excelled  himself;  and  when  they  re- 
joined their  fair  friends,  the  primo-tenore  and  the  prima-donna 
gave  them  a  grand  scena,  succeeded  by  the  English  perform- 
ers in  a  favorite  scene  from  a  famous  farce.  Then  Mrs.  (iamnie 
had  an  opportunity  of  dealing  with  her  diamond  rings,  and 
the  rest  danced — a  waltz  of  whirling  grace,  or  merry  cotillon 
of  jocund  bouquets. 

"Well,  Clarence,-'  said  Waldei'sliare  to  the  young  earl,  as 
they  stood  for  a  moment  apart,  ''  was  I  right  ?" 

"By  Jove  !  yes.  It  is  the  only  life.  You  were  quite  right. 
AVe  should  indeed  be  fools  to  sacrifice  ourselves  to  the  conven- 
tional." 

The  Rodney  party  returned  home  in  the  drag  of  the  last 
s])eakcr.  They  were  the  last  to  retire,  as  Mr.  Vigo  wished  for 
one  cimir  with  his  noble  friend.  As  he  bade  farewell,  and 
cordially,  to  Endymion,  he  said,  "Call  on  me  to-morrow 
norning  in  Burlington  Street  in  your  way  to  your  office.  Do 
not  mind  the  hour.     I  am  an  earlv  bird." 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

"It  is  no  favor,"  said  Mr.  Vigo  ;  "it  is  not  even  an  act  of 
friendliness ;  it  is  a  freak,  and  it  is  my  freak ;  the  favor,  if 
there  be  one,  is  conferred  by  you," 

"But  I  really  do  not  know  what  to  say,"  said  Endymion, 
hesitating  and  confused. 

"I  am  not  a  classical  scholar,"  said  Mr.  Vigo,  "but  there 
are  two  things  Avhich  I  think  I  understand — men  and  horses. 
I  like  to  back  them  both  when  I  think  they  ought  to  win." 


!> 


102 


FXDVMIOy. 


"  But  I  am  scarcely  a  man,''  sai<l  Eiidymlon,  rather  pite- 
ously,  *'and  I  sometime.^  tliink  I  shall  never  win  anything." 

"•  That  is  my  alTair,"  replied  ]\[r.  Vigo  ;  *'you  are  a  year- 
ling, and  I  have  furmed  my  judgment  as  to  your  capacity. 
What  I  wish  to  do  in  your  case  is  what  I  have  done  in  others, 
and  some  memorable  ones.  Dress  does  not  make  a  man,  but  it 
often  makes  a  sucee-sful  one.  The  most  precious  stone,  you 
know,  must  be  cut  and  ]iolished.  I  shall  enter  your  name  in 
my  books  for  an  unlimited  credit,  and  no  account  to  be  settled 
till  you  arc  a  privy  councilor.  I  do  not  limit  the  credit,  be- 
cause you  are  a  man  of  sense  and  a  gentleman,  and  will  not 
abuse  it.  But  be  (piitc  as  careful  not  to  stint  yourself  as  not 
to  be  needlessly  extravagant.  In  the  first  instance,  you  would 
be  interfering  with  my  experiment,  and  that  would  not  be 
fair." 

This  conversation  took  place  in  Mr.  Vigo's  counting-house 
the  morning  after  the  entertainment  at  his  villa.  Endymion 
called  ni)on  ^Mr.  Vigo  in  his  way  to  his  office,  as  he  had  been 
requested  to  do,  and  ^Ir.  Vigo  had  expressed  his  wishes  and 
intentions  with  regard  to  Endymion  as  intimated  in  the  preced- 
ing remarks. 

"I  have  knoAvn  many  an  heiress  lost  by  her  suitor  being 
ill-dressed,"'  said  Mr.  Viu'o.  ''You  must  dress  according  to 
your  age,  your  pursuits,  your  object  in  life  ;  you  must  dress 
too,  in  some  cases,  according  to  your  set.  In  youth  a  little 
fancy  is  rather  expected,  but  if  political  life  be  your  object,  it 
shoulil  be  avoided,  at  least  after  one-and-twenty.  I  am  dress- 
ing two  brothers  novr,  men  of  considerable  position  ;  one  is  a 
mere  man  of  pleasure,  the  other  will  probably  be  a  minister  of 
state.  They  are  as  like  as  two  peas,  but  were  I  to  dress  the 
dandy  and  the  minister  the  same,  it  would  be  bad  taste — it 
Avould  be  ridiculous.  Xo  man  gives  mo  the  trouble  Avhicli 
Lord  Eglantine  does  :  he  has  not  made  up  his  mind  whether 
he  Avill  be  a  great  poet  or  prime  minister.  '  You  must  choose, 
my  lord,'  I  tell  him.  '  I  can  not  send  you  out  looking  like 
Lord  Byron  if  yoa  mean  to  be  a  Canning  or  a  Pitt.'  I  have 
dressed  a  great  many  of  our  statesmen  and  orators,  and  I  al- 
ways dressed  them  according  to  their  style  and  the  nature  of 


i 


\ 


^ 


» 


being 

ing  to 
dress- 
little 

ect,  it 

dress- 
is  a 

tor  o£ 
3  the 
e — it 

which 
ether 

loose, 
like 
have 
I  al- 
■ire  of 


COIiUKSPONDESCE. 


103 


I 


their  duties.  What  all  men  should  avoid  is  the  'shabby  gen- 
teel.' No  man  ever  gets  over  it.  I  wl'l  save  you  from  that. 
You  had  better  be  in  rags." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

"When  the  twins  had  separated,  they  had  resolved  on  a  sys- 
tem of  communication  which  had  been,  at  least  on  the  })art  of 
Myra,  scrupulously  maintained.     They  were  to  interchange  let- 
ters every  week,  and  cacli  letter  was  to  assume,  if  i)ossible,  the 
shape  of  a  journal,  so  that  when  they  again  met  no  portion  of 
the  interval  should  be  a  blank  in  their  past  lives.     There  wore 
few  incidents  in  the  existence  of  ^lyra  ;  a  book,  a  walk,  a  visit 
to  the  rectory,  were  among  the  chief.    The  occupations  of  their 
father  were  unchanged,  and  his  liealth  seemed  sustained,  but 
that  of  her  mother  was  not  satisfactory.     Mrs.  Fcrrars  had 
never  rallied  since  the  last  discomfiture  of  her  political  hopes, 
and  had  never  resumed  her  previous  tenor  of  life.     She  was  se- 
cluded, her  spirits  uncertain,  moods  of  depression  succeeded 
l)y  fits  of  unaccountable  excitement,  and,  on  the  whole,  Myra 
feared  a  general  and  chronic  disturbance  of  her  nervous  sys- 
tem.    Ilis  sister  preparet''  Endymion  for  encountering  a  great 
change  in  their  parent  when  he  returned  home.     Myra,  iiow- 
cver,  never  expatiated  on  the  affairs  of  Ilurstlcy.     Her  annals 
in  this  respect  were  somewhat  dry.     She  fulfilled  her  promise 
of  recording  them,  but  no  more.     Ilcr  pen  was  fuller  and  more 
eloquent  in  her  comments  on  the  life  of  her  brother  and  of  the 
new  characters  with  whom  he  had  become  acquainted.     She 
delighted  to  hear  about  Mr.  Jawett,  and  especially  about  ^Ir. 
St.  Barbe,  and  was  much  pleased  that  he  had  been  to  the  Derby, 
tliough  she  did  not  exactly  collect  who  were  his  companions. 
Did  he  go  with  that  kind  ^Ir.  Trenchard  ?    It  would  seem, 
that  Endymion's  account  of  the  Rodney  family  had  been  lim- 
ited to  vague  though  earnest  acknowledgments  of  their  great 
civility  and  attention,  which  added  much  to  the  comfort  of  his 
life.    Impelled  by  some  of  these  grateful  though  general  re- 


104 


EXDYJdION: 


marks,  Mrs.  Fcrnu's,  in  a  paroxysm  of  stately  gratitude,  had 
sent  a  missiA'e  to  Sylvia,  such  as  a  sovereign  might  address  to  a 
deserving  subject,  at  the  same  time  acknowledging  and  com- 
mending her  duteous  services.  Such  was  the  old  domestic  su- 
perstition of  the  Rodneys,  that,  with  all  their  worldliness,  they 
treasured  this  effusion  as  if  it  had  really  emanated  from  the 
center  of  power  and  courtly  favor. 

Myra,  in  her  anticipations  of  speedily  meeting  her  brother, 
was  doomed  to  disappointment.  She  had  counted  on  Endym- 
ioii  obtaining  some  holidays  in  the  usual  recess,  but  in  conse- 
cpiciic'o  of  having  so  recently  joined  the  office,  Endymion  was 
retained  for  summer  and  autumnal  work,  and  not  until  Christ- 
mas was  there  any  prospect  of  his  returning  home. 

The  interval  between  midsummer  and  that  period,  though 
not  devoid  of  seasons  of  monotony  and  loneliness,  passed  in  a 
•Wciy  not  altogether  unprofitable  to  Endymion.  Waldershare, 
who  had  begun  to  notice  him,  seemed  to  become  interested  in 
his  career.  Waldcrsharo  knew  all  about  his  historic  ancestor, 
Endymion  Carey.  The  bubbling  imagination  of  Waldcrsharo 
clustered  with  a  sort  of  wild  fascination  round  a  living  link 
with  the  age  of  the  cavaliers.  He  had  some  Stuart  blood  in 
his  veins,  and  his  ancestors  had  fallen  at  Edgehill  and  Marston 
Moor.  Waldershare,  whoso  fancies  alternated  between  Strafford 
and  St.  Just,  Archbishop  Laud  and  the  Goddess  of  Reason,  re- 
verted for  the  moment  to  his  visions  on  the  banks  of  the  Cam, 
and  the  brilliant  rhapsodies  of  his  boyhood.  His  converse  with 
Nigel  Penruddock  had  prepared  Endymion  in  some  degree  for 
these  mysteries,  and  perhaps  it  was  because  "Waldershare  found 
that  Endymion  was  by  no  means  ill-informed  on  these  matters, 
and  therefore  there  was  less  opportunity  of  dazzling  and  mold- 
ing him,  which  was  a  passion  with  Waldershare,  that  he  soon 
quitted  the  Great  Rebellion  for  pastures  new,  and  impressed 
upon  his  pupil  that  all  that  had  occurred  before  the  French  Rev- 
olution was  ancient  history.  The  French  Revolution  had  in- 
troduced the  cosmopolitan  principle  into  human  affairs  instead 
of  the  national,  and  no  public  man  could  succeed  who  did  not 
comprehend  and  acknowledge  that  truth.  Waldershare  lent 
Endymion  books,  and  books  with  which  otherwise  he  would 


I, 


.ST.    BAR  BE  IX  THE  SUBUnBS. 


I(i5 


Cam, 
|c  with 
•ce  for 
Ifound 
ttcrs, 
Imold- 
soon 
■essccl 
ReV" 
d  in- 
stead 
not 
lent 
onld 


f  i 


not  have  become  acquainted.  Unconsciously  to  liimself,  tlie 
talk  of  Waldersiiare,  teeming  with  knowledge,  and  fancy,  and 
l)layfulness,  and  airy  sarcasm  of  life,  taught  him  something  of 
the  art  of  conversation — to  be  j^ronipt  without  being  stubborn, 
to  refute  without  argument,  and  to  clothe  grave  matters  in  a 
motley  garb. 

But  in  August  AValdershare  disappeared,  and  at  tlie  begin- 
ning of  September,  even  the  Rodneys  had  gone  to  Margate. 
St.  Barbe  was  the  only  clerk  left  in  Endymion's  room.  They 
dined  together  almost  every  day,  and  went  on  the  top  of  an 
omnibus  to  many  a  surburban  paradise.  '•  I  tell  vou  what,'' 
said  St.  Barbe,  as  they  were  Avatching  one  day  together  the 
humors  of  the  Avorld  in  the  crowded  tea-garden  and  bustling 
bowling-green  of  Canonbury  Tavern;  '*a  fellow  miglit  get  a 
good  chapter  out  of  this  scene.  I  could  do  it,  but  I  will  not. 
Whnt  is  the  use  of  lavishinu'  one's  brains  on  an  ungrateful 
world  ?  Why,  if  that  fellow  (Jushy  were  to  write  a  descri])tion 
\ji  this  place,  which  he  Avould  do  like  a  penny-a-liner  drunk 
with  ginger-beer,  every  countess  in  Mayfair  would  be  reading 
him,  not  knowing,  the  idiot,  whether  she  ought  to  smile  or 
shed  tears,  and  sending  him  cards  with  '  at  home '  upon  them 
as  large  as  life.  Oh  !  it  is  disgusting  !  absolutely  disgusting. 
It  is  a  nefarious  world,  sir.  You  will  find  it  out  some  day.  I 
am  as  much  robbed  by  that  fellow  Gusliy  as  men  are  on  the 
highway.  He  is  appropriating  my  income,  and  the  income  of 
thousands  of  honest  fellows.  And  then  he  pretends  he  is  writ- 
ing for  the  people  !  The  people  !  What  does  he  know  about 
the  people  !  xVnnals  of  the  Xcw  Cut  and  Saffron  Hill.  Tie 
thniks  he  will  frighten  some  lord,  who  will  ask  him  to  dinner. 
And  that  he  calls  Progress.  I  hardly  know  which  is  the  worst 
class  in  this  country— the  aristocracy,  the  middle  class,  or  Avhat 
they  call  the  people.     I  hate  them  all." 

About  the  fall  of  the  leaf  the  offices  were  all  filled  again, 
and  among  the  rest  Trenchard  returned.  ''  His  brother  has 
been  ill,"  said  St.  Barbe.  "  Thev  say  that  Trenchard  is  very 
fond  of  him.  Fond  of  a  brother  who  keeps  him  out  of  four 
thousand  pounds  per  annum  !  What  will  man  not  say  ?  And 
yet  I  could  not  go  and  congratulate  Trenchard  on  his  brother's 


1('(\ 


exdymion: 


death.  It  vrould  be  *'  bad  taste.'  Trciichard  would  perliap.s 
never  speak  to  me  again,  though  lie  had  been  lying  awake  all 
night  chuckling  over  the  event.  And  Gu.shy  takes  an  amiable 
view  of  this  world  of  hypocrisy  jind  i)lunder.  And  that  is  why 
C!  ushy  is  so  popular  I " 

There  was  one  incident  at  the  beginning  of  November, 
Avhich  eventually  exercised  no  mean  inlluencc  on  the  life  of 
Eiulymion.  Trenchard  offered  one  evening  to  introduce  him 
as  a  guest  to  a  celebrated  debating  society,  of  which  Trenchard 
was  a  distinguished  member.  This  society  had  grown  out  of 
the  Union  at  Cambridge,  and  was  originally  intended  to  have 
been  a  metro})olitan  branch  of  that  famous  association.  But 
in  process  of  time  it  was  found  that  such  a  constitution  was  too 
limited  to  insure  those  members  and  that  variety  of  mind  de- 
sirable in  such  an  institution.  It  was  therefore  opened  to  the 
whole  world  duly  qualified.  The  predominant  element,  how- 
ever, for  a  long  time  consisted  of  C'unbridgc  men. 

This  society  used  to  meet  in  a  large  room,  iitted  up  as  much 
like  the  House  of  Commons  as  possible,  and  whieh  was  in 
Freemasons'  Tavern,  in  Great  Queen  fStreet.  Some  hundred 
and  fifty  members  were  i)resent  when  End}inion  paid  his  first 
visit  there,  and  the  scene  to  Endymion  v.'as  novel  and  deeply 
interesting.  Tnougli  only  a  guest,  he  Avas  permitted  to  sit  in 
the  body  of  the  chamber,  by  the  side  of  Trenchard,  who  kindly 
gave  him  some  information,  as  the  proceedings  advanced,  as  to 
the  principal  personages  who  took  part  in  them. 

The  question  to-night  was,  whether  the  decajiitation  of 
Charles  the  First  were  a  justifiable  act,  and  the  debate  Avas 
opened  in  the  affirn;ative  by  a  young  man  with  a  singularly 
sunny  face  and  a  voice  <jf  music.  His  statement  Avas  clear  and 
calm.  Though  nothing  could  be  more  uncompromising  than 
liis  opinions,  it  seemed  that  nothing  could  be  fairer  tlnn  his 
facts. 

'' '  hat  is  Hortensius,"  said  Trenchard  ;  *'  he  will  be  called 
this  term.  They  say  lie  did  nothing  at  the  university,  and  is 
too  idle  to  do  anything  at  the  bar  ;  but  I  think  highly  of  him. 
You  should  hear  him  in  reply." 

The  opening  speech  was  seconded  by  a  very  young  man,  in 


w . 


A  DEBATE. 


lo: 


ion  of 
|to  was 
jularly 
L'  and 
tlian 
l:m  his 

called 
Imd  is 
liim. 

km,  in 


a  most  artificial  style,  remarkable  for  its  superfluity  of  iutcnd- 
ed  sarcasm,  which  Avas  delivered  in  a  highly  elaborate  tone,  so 
that  the  speaker  seemed  severe  Avithout  being  keen. 

"'Tis  the  new  Cambridge  style,''  whif^pored  Trenchard, 
"but  it  will  not  go  down  here." 

The  question  having  been  launched,  Spruce  arose,  a  very 
neat  speaker ;  a  little  too  mechanical,  but  plausible.  Eudym- 
ion  was  astonished  at  the  dextrous  turns  in  his  own  favor 
which  he  gave  to  many  of  the  statements  of  Iloitcnsius,  and 
how  he  mangled  and  massacred  the  seconder,  Avbo  had  made  a 
mistake  in  a  date. 

"  He  is  the  Tory  leader,'"  said  Trenchard.  *'  There  are  not 
twenty  Tories  in  the  Union,  but  wo  ahvays  listen  to  him.  He 
is  sharp.     Jawett  will  answer  him." 

And,  accordingly,  that  great  man  rose.  Jawett,  in  dulcet 
tones  of  philanthropy,  intimated  that  he  was  not  ojjposcd  to 
the  decapitation  of  kings ;  on  the  contrary,  if  there  were  no 
other  way  of  getting  rid  of  them,  he  would  have  recourse  to 
such  a  method.  But  he  did  not  think  the  case  before  them 
was  justifiable. 

''Always  crotchety,"  whispered  Trenchard. 
Jawett  thought  the  whole  conception  oi  che  opening  speech 
erroneous.  It  proceeded  on  the  assumption  that  the  execution 
of  Charles  was  the  act  of  the  people  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  was 
an  intrigue  of  Cromwell,  who  was  the  only  person  Avho  profited 
by  it. 

Cromwell  was  vindicated  and  panegyrized  in  a  flaming 
speech,  by  Montreal,  who  took  this  opportunity  of  denounc- 
ing alike  kings  and  bishops,  Church  and  State,  with  powerful 
invective,  terminating  his  address  by  the  expression  of  an  ear- 
nest hope  that  he  might  be  spared  to  witness  the  inevitable 
Commonwealth  of  England. 

''He  only  lost  his  election  for  "Rattlcton  by  ten  votes,"  said 
Trenchard.  ''  We  call  him  the  Lord  Trotector,  and  his  friends 
here  think  he  will  be  so." 

The  debate  was  concluded,  after  another  hour,  by  Ilorten- 
sius,  and  Endymion  was  struck  by  the  contrast  between  his 
first  and  second  manner.     Safe  from  reply,  and  reckless  in  his 


108 


ESDYMIOX. 


security,  it  is  not  easy  to  describe  the  audacity  of  liis  retorts, 
or  the  tumult  of  his  eloquence.  Rapid,  sarcastic,  humorous, 
picturesque,  impassioned,  he  seemed  to  carry  everything  before 
him,  and  to  resemble  his  former  self  in  notliing  but  the  music 
of  his  voice,  which  lent  melody  to  scorn,  and  sometimes  reached 
the  depth  of  patlios. 

Endymion  walked  home  with  Mr.  Trenchard,  and  in  a 
musing  mood.  "I  should  not  care  hoAv  lazy  I  was,"'  said  En- 
d3'mion,  "  if  I  could  speak  like  llortcnsius." 


i 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

The  snow  was  falling  about  tlie  time  when  the  Swindon 
coach,  in  which  Endymion  Avas  a  passenger,  was  expected  at 
Ilurstley,  and  the  snoAV  had  been  falling  all  day.  Nothing  had 
been  more  dreary  than  the  outward  world,  or  less  entitled  to 
the  merry  epithet  which  is  the  privilege  of  the  season.  The 
gardener  had  been  dispatched  to  tlie  village  inn,  W'licre  the 
coach  stopped,  with  a  lantern  and  cloaks  and  umbrellas.  With- 
in the  house  the  huge  blocks  of  smoldering  beech  sent  forth  a 
liospitable  heat,  and,  whenever  there  was  a  sound,  Myra  threw 
cones  on  the  inflamed  mass,  that  Endymion  might  be  welcomed 
with  a  blaze.  Mrs.  Ferrars  who  had  appeared  to-day,  though 
late,  and  had  been  very  nervous  and  excited,  broke  down  half 
an  hour  before  her  son  could  arrive,  and,  murmuring  that  she 
would  reappear,  had  retired.  Her  husband  was  apparently 
reading,  but  his  eye  wandered  and  his  mind  was  absent  from 
the  volume. 

The  dogs  barked,  Mr.  Ferrars  thrcAV  down  his  book,  ^Myra 
forgot  her  cones ;  the  door  burst  open,  and  she  was  in  her 
brother's  arms. 

"And  where  is  mamma?"  said  Endymion,  after  he  had 
greeted  his  father. 

"She will  be  here  directly,"  said  Mi.  Ferrars.  "You  are 
late,  and  the  suspense  of  your  arrival  a  little  agitated  her." 

Three  quarters  of  a  year  had  ela].)sed  since  the  twins  had 


I 


li 


I 


liETURX  TO  II UL  ST  LEY. 


109 


had 


are 


had 


parted,  and  they  were  at  that  period  of  life  wlicn  such  an  in- 
terval often  produces  no  slight  charp;cs  in  personal  appearance. 
Endymion,  always  tall  for  his  yea.  had  considerably  groAvn  ; 
liis  air  and  manner  and  dress  -were  distinguished.  But  three 
(piarters  of  a  year  had  produced  a  %t\\\  greater  efTcct  upon  his 
sister,  lie  had  left  her  a  beautiful  girl :  lier  beauty  was  not 
less  striiving,  but  it  was  now  the  beauty  of  aAvoman.  ller  mien 
was  radiant  but  commanding,  and  her  brow,  always  remarka- 
ble, was  singularly  impressive. 

They  stood  in  animated  converge  before  th;^  fire,  Endymion 
betAveen  hi.-  father  and  his  sister  and  retaining  of  each  a  hand, 
when  Mr.  Ferrars  nodded  to  Myra  and  said,  "I  think  now  ;  " 
and  Myra,  not  reluctantly,  but  not  Avith  happy  eagerness,  left 
the  room. 

''  She  is  gone  for  your  poor  mother,"  said  ^Ir.  Ferrars  ;  *'  wo 
are  uneasy  about  her,  my  dear  boy." 

Myra  was  some  time  away,  and  when  she  returned  she  was 
alone.  "  She  says  she  must  see  him  first  in  her  room,"  said 
Myra,  in  a  low  voice,  to  her  father  ;  ''but  that  will  never  do  ; 
you  or  I  must  go  Avitli  him." 

"  You  had  better  go,"  said  Mr.  Ferrars. 

She  took  her  brother's  hand  and  led  him  away.  "  I  go  Avitli 
you,  to  prevent  dreadful  scenes,"  said  his  sister,  on  the  stair- 
case. "Try  to  behave  just  as  in  old  times,  and  as  if  you  saw 
no  change." 

Myra  Avent  into  the  chamber  first  to  give  to  her  mother,  if 
possible,  the  keynote  of  the  intervicAv,  and  of  whicli  she  had 
already  furnished  the  prelude.  "  We  are  all  so  happy  to  see 
Endymion  again,  dear  mamma.     Papa  is  quite  gay." 

And  then  Avhen  Endymion,  answering  his  sister's  beckon, 
entered,  Mrs.  Ferrars  rushed  forward  Avitli  a  sort  of  laugh,  and 
cried  out,  '*  Oh,  I  am  so  happy  to  see  you  again,  my  child  !  I 
feel  quite  gay." 

lie  embraced  her,  but  he  could  not  belicAe  it  was  his  moth- 
er, A  vision  at  once  haggard  and  bloated  had  supplanted  that 
soft  and  rich  countenance  which  had  captivated  so  maoy.  A 
robe  concealed  her  attenuated  frame ;  but  the  lustrous  eyes 
were  bleared  and  bloodshot,  and  the  accents  of  the  voice,  which 


110 


ENDYMTON. 


\ 


used  to  be  at  once  melodious  and  a  little  drawling,  hoarse, 
harsh,  and  hurried. 

She  never  stoi)pcd  talking ;  but  it  was  all  in  one  key,  and 
that  the  prescribed  one— her  happiness  at  his  arrival,  the  uni- 
versal gaycty  it  had  produced,  and  the  merry  Christmas  they 
-were  to  keep.  After  a  time  she  began  to  recur  to  the  past,  and 
to  sigh  ;  but  instantly  Myra  interfered  with  ''  You  know,  mam- 
ma, you  arc  to  dine  down  stairs  to-day,  and  you  will  hardly 
have  time  to  dress ; "  and  she  motioned  to  Endymion  to  re- 
tire. 

Mrs.  Ferrars  kept  the  dinner  Avaiting  a  long  time,  and, 
when  she  entered  the  room,  it  was  evident  that  she  was  pain- 
fully excited.     She  had  a  cap  on,  and  had  used  some  rouge. 

*'  Endymion  must  take  mo  in  to  dinner,"  she  hurriedly  ex- 
claimed, as  she  entered,  and  then  grasped  her  son's  arm. 

It  seemed  a  happy  and  even  a  merry  dinner,  and  yet  there 
was  something  about  it  forced  and  constrained.  Mrs.  Ferrars 
talked  a  great  deal,  and  Enaymion  told  them  a  great  many 
anecdotes  of  those  Licn  and  things  which  most  interested  them, 
and  ]Myra  seemed  to  be  absorbed  in  his  remarks  and  narratives, 
and  his  mother  would  drink  his  health  more  than  once,  when 
suddenly  she  went  into  hysterics,  and  all  was  anarchy.  Mr. 
Ferrars  looked  distressed  and  infinitely  sad  ;  and  Myra,  putting 
her  arm  round  hci'  mother,  and  whispering  words  of  calm  or 
comfort,  managed  to  lead  her  out  of  the  room,  and  neither  of 
them  returned. 

•*  Poor  creature  ! "  said  Mr.  Ferrars  with  a  sigh.  *'  Seeing 
you  has  been  too  much  for  her." 

The  next  morning  Endymion  and  his  sister  paid  a  visit  to 
the  rectory,  and  there  they  met  Nigel,  who  was  passing  his 
Christmas  at  home.  Tliis  was  a  happy  meeting.  The  rector 
had  Avritteu  an  essay  on  squirrels,  and  showed  them  a  glass  con- 
taining that  sportive  little  animal  in  all  its  frolic  forms.  Farm- 
er Thornberry  had  ordered  a  path  to  be  cleared  on  the  green 
from  the  hall  to  the  rectory ;  and  *'that  is  all,"  said  Mrs.  Pen- 
ruddock,  ''we  have  to  walk  upon,  except  the  high  road.  The 
snow  has  drifted  to  such  a  degree  that  it  is  impossible  to  get  to 
the  Chase.     I  went  out  the  day  before  yesterday  w^'tli  Carlo  as 


i^ 


Im  or 

ler  of 


jeemg 


sit  to 
g  his 
cctor 
con- 
arni- 
B^rcen 
Perx- 
The 
et  to 
lo  as 


BROKEX  HEALTH. 


Ill 


a  guide.  When  I  did  not  clearly  make  out  my  Avay,  I  .sent 
him  furward,  and  sometimes  I  could  only  see  his  black  head 
emerging  from  the  snow.     So  I  had  to  retreat." 

]Mrs.  Ferrars  did  not  appear  tliis  day.  Endymion  visitctl 
her  in  her  room.  lie  found  her  flighty  anil  incoherent.  She 
seemed  to  think  that  he  had  returned  permanently  to  Hurst- 
ley,  and  said  she  never  had  any  good  o].)inion  of  the  scheme  of 
his  leaving  them.  If  it  had  been  the  Foreign  Oilice,  as  was 
promised,  and  his  father  had  been  in  the  Cabinet,  which  was 
his  right,  it  might  have  been  all  very  well.  But,  if  he  were 
to  leave  home,  he  ought  to  have  gone  into  the  Guards,  and  it 
was  not  too  late.  And  then  they  might  live  in  a  small  house 
in  town,  and  look  after  him.  There  Avere  sniuU  houses  in  AVil- 
ton  Crescent,  which  would  do  very  well.  Besides,  she  herself 
wanted  change  of  air.  Hurstley  did  not  agree  with  her.  She 
had  no  appetite.  Slic  never  Avas  well  except  in  London,  or 
Wimbledon.  She  wished  that,  as  Endymion  was  here,  he 
would  speak  to  his  father  on  the  subject.  She  saw  no  reason 
why  they  should  not  live  at  their  place  at  Wimbledon  as  well 
as  here.  It  was  not  so  large  a  house,  and,  therefore,  would 
not  be  so  expensive. 

Endymion's  holiday  was  only  to  last  a  week,  and  Myra 
seemed  jealous  of  his  sparing  any  portion  of  it  to  Nigel  ;  yjt 
the  rector's  son  was  sedulous  in  his  endeavors  to  enjoy  the  so- 
ciety of  his  former  companion.  There  seemed  some  reason  for 
liis  calling  at  the  hall  every  day.  Mr.  Ferrars  broke  through 
his  habits,  and  invited  Nigel  to  dine  with  them ;  and  after 
dinner,  saying  that  he  would  visit  Mrs.  Ferrars,  Avho  was  un- 
well, loft  them  alone.  It  was  the  only  time  they  had  yet  been 
alone.  Endymion  found  that  there  was  no  change  in  the  feel- 
ings and  views  of  Nigel  respecting  Church  matters,  except  that 
his  sentiments  and  opinions  were  more  assured,  and,  if  possible, 
more  advanced.  He  would  not  tolerate  anv  reference  to  the 
state  of  the  nation  ;  it  was  the  state  of  the  Church  which  en- 
grossed his  being.  No  government  was  endurable  that  was 
not  divine.  The  Church  was  divine,  and  on  that  ho  took  his 
stand. 

Nigel  was  to  take  his  degree  next  term,  and  orders  as  soon 


\\-2 


EXDYMIOX. 


11 


as  pos.siblo.  IIu  looked  forward  with  confidoncc,  after  doul)t- 
Icss  a  period  of  disturbance,  confusion,  probably  violence,  and 
even  anarchy,  to  the  establishment  of  an  ecclesiastical  polity 
that  would  be  catholic  throughout  the  realm.  Endymion  just 
intimated  the  very  contrary  opinions  that  Jawett  held  upon 
these  matters,  and  mentioned,  though  not  as  an  adherent,  some 
of  the  cosmopolitan  sentiments  of  Waldersharo. 

"The  Church  is  cosmopolitan,"  said  Nigel;  "the  only 
practicable  means  by  which  you  can  attain  to  identity  of  motive 
^md  action." 

Then  they  rejoined  Myra,  but  Xigel  soon  recurred  to  the 
absorbing  theme.  His  powers  had  much  developed  since  he 
and  Endymion  used  to  wander  together  over  llurstley  Chase. 
He  had  great  eloquence,  his  views  were  startling  and  com- 
manding, and  his  exi)rcssions  forcible  and  picturesque.  All 
was  heightened,  too,  by  his  striking  personal  appearance  and 
the  beauty  of  his  voice.  He  seemed  something  between  a 
young  prophet  and  an  inquisitor  ;  a  remarkable  blending  of 
enthusiasm  and  self-control. 

A  person  more  experienced  in  human  nature  than  Endym- 
ion might  have  observed  that  all  this  time,  while  Nigel  was 
to  all  appearances  chiefly  addressing  himself  to  Endymion,  ho 
was,  in  fact,  endeavoring  to  impress  his  sister.  Endymion 
knew,  from  the  correspondence  of  Mp'a,  that  Nigel  had  been, 
especially  in  the  summer,  much  at  Hurstley  ;  and  when  he  was 
alone  with  his  sister,  he  could  not  help  remarking,  ''Nigel  is 
:as  strong  as  ever  in  his  view^s." 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  ;  *'  he  is  very  clever  and  very  good-look- 
ing. It  is  a  pity  he  is  going  into  the  Church.  I  do  not  like 
clergymen. " 

On  the  third  day  of  the  visit,  Mrs.  Ferrars  was  announced 
to  be  unwell,  and  in  the  evening  very  unwell ;  and  Mr.  Ferrai-s 
sent  to  the  nearest  medical  man,  and  he  was  distant,  to  attend 
her.  The  medical  man  did  not  arrive  until  jiast  midnight, 
and,  after  visiting  his  patient,  looked  grave.  She  had  fever, 
but  of  what  character  it  was  difficult  to  decide.  The  medi- 
cal man  had  brought  some  remedies  with  him,  and  ho  staid 
the  night  at  the  hall.     It  was  a  night  of  anxiety  and  alarm. 


FOUR   TERRIBLE  HOURS. 


113 


-look- 
^t  liko 

bnccd 
}rrar3 
Ittend 
light, 
fever, 
iiedi- 
I  staid 
Ifirm, 


and  the  household  did  not  retire  until  nearly  the  break  of 
dawn. 

The  next  day  it  seemed  that  tlie  wliole  of  the  Penruddock 
family  were  in  the  liouse.  ^frs.  Penruddock  insisted  on  nurs- 
ing Mrs.  Ferrars,  and  her  husband  looked  as  if  he  tliought  ho 
might  be  wanted.  It  was  unreasonable  that  Nigel  should  bo 
left  alone.  His  presence,  always  pleasing,  was  a  relief  to  an 
anxious  family,  and  who  were  beginning  to  get  alarmed.  The 
fever  did  not  subside.  On  the  contrary,  it  increased,  and  tliere 
were  other  dangerous  symptoms.  There  was  a  pliysician  of 
fame  at  Oxford,  whom  Nigel  wished  they  would  call  in.  Mat- 
ters were  too  pressing  to  Avait  for  jiosts,  and  too  complicated  to 
trust  to  an  ordinary  messenger.  Nigel,  Avho  was  always  well 
mounted,  was  in  his  saddle  in  an  instant.  lie  seemed  to  be  all 
resource,  consolation,  and  energy  :  "  If  I  am  fortunate,  he  will 
be  here  in  four  hours  ;  at  all  events,  I  will  not  return  alone." 

Four  terrible  hours  were  these  :  Mr.  Ferrars,  restless  and 
sad,  and  listening  with  a  vacant  or  an  absent  look  to  the  kind 
and  unceasing  talk  of  the  rector  ;  Myra,  silent  in  her  mother's 
chamber  ;  and  Endymion,  wandering  about  alone  with  his  eyes 
full  of  tears.  This  was  the  Merrie  Christmas  he  had  talked  of, 
and  this  his  long-looked-for  holida}'.  He  could  think  of  no- 
thing but  his  mother's  kindness  ;  and  the  days  gone  by,  when 
she  was  so  briglit  and  hai)py,  came  back  to  him  with  painful 
vividness.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  belonged  to  a  doomed 
and  unhappy  family.  Youth  and  its  unconscious  mood  had 
hitherto  driven  tliis  thouglit  from  his  mind  ;  but  it  occurred  to 
him  now,  and  would  not  be  driven  away. 

Nigel  was  fortunate.  Before  sunset  he  returned  to  Ilurst- 
ley  in  a  postchaise  with  the  Oxford  physician,  whom  he  had 
furnished  with  an  able  and  accurate  diagnosis  of  the  case. 
All  that  art  could  devise,  and  all  that  devotion  could  suggest, 
were  lavished  on  the  sufferer,  but  in  vain  ;  and  four  days  after- 
ward, the  last  day  of  Endymion's  long-awaited  holiday,  Mr. 
Ferrars  closed  for  ever  the  eyes  of  that  brilliant  being,  Avho, 
with  some  weaknesses,  but  many  noble  rpialities,  had  shared 
with  no  unequal  spirit  the  splendor  and  the  adversity  of  his 
existence. 


114 


EXD  YMTOy. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 


Nigel  took  a  higli  degree  and  obtained  first-class  lionors. 
He  was  ordained  by  the  bisliop  of  the  diocese  .is  soon  after  as 
possible.  His  companions,  -who  looked  up  to  him  -with  every 
expectation  of  his  eminence  and  influence,  were  disa})i)(Miited, 
however,  in  the  course  of  life  on  which  he  decided.  It  was 
different  from  that  which  he  had  led  them  to  su})po.se  it  Avould 
be.  They  had  counted  on  his  becoming  a  resident  light  of  llie 
University,  filling  its  highest  odiccs,  and  ultimately  reaching 
the  loftiest  stations  in  the  Church.  Instead  of  that,  he  an- 
nounced that  ho  luid  resolved  to  become  a  curate  to  his  father, 
and  that  he  was  about  to  bury  liimsclf  in  the  solitude  of 
Ilurstley. 

It  was  in  the  earlv  summer  followiiig  the  death  of  Mrs. 
Ferrars  that  he  settled  there.  He  was  frequently  at  the  hall, 
and  became  intimate  with  3Ir.  Ferrars.  Notwithstanding  the 
difference  of  age,  there  was  between  them  a  sympathy  of  knowl- 
edge and  thought.  In  spite  of  his  decided  mind,  Nigel  listened 
to  Mr.  Ferrars  with  deference,  soliciting  his  judgment,  and 
hanging,  as  it  were,  on  his  accents  of  wise  experience  and  re- 
fined taste.  So  Nigel  became  a  favorite  with  Mr.  Ferrars  ;  for 
there  arc  few  things  more  flattering  than  the  graceful  submis- 
sion of  an  accomplished  intellect,  and,  when  accompanied  by 
youth,  the  spell  is  sometimes  fascinating. 

The  death  of  his  wife  seemed  to  have  been  a  great  blow  to 
Mr.  Ferrars.  The  expression  of  his  careworn,  yet  still  hand- 
some, countenance  became,  if  possible,  more  saddened.  It  was 
with  difficulty  that  his  daughter  could  induce  liim  to  take  ex- 
ercise, and  he  had  lost  altogether  that  seeming  interest  in  their 
outer  world  which  once  at  least  he  affected  to  feel.  Myra, 
though  ever  content  to  be  alone,  had  given  up  herself  much  to 
her  father  since  his  great  sorrow  ;  but  she  felt  that  her  efforts 
to  distract  him  from  his  broodings  were  not  eminently  success- 
ful, and  she  hailed  with  a  feeling  of  relief  the  establishment  of 
Nigel  in  the  parish,  and  the  consequent  intimacy  that  arose 
between  him  and  her  father. 


m 


NIGEL  AT  THE  HALL. 


115 


Xigcl  and  Myra  were  necessarily  under  tlicac  circumstances 
llirown  mucii  togetlier.  As  time  advanced  )e  passed  his  even- 
ings generally  at  the  hall,  for  he  was  a  proficient  in  the  only 
game  which  interested  Mr.  Ferrars,  and  that  was  chess.  Read- 
ing and  writing  all  day,  ^fr.  Ferrars  required  some  remission 
of  attention,  and  his  rehixation  was  chess.  Before  the  games, 
and  between  the  games,  and  during  delightful  tea-time,  and 
for  the  happy  quarter  of  an  hour  which  ensued  wlien  the  chief 
cmi)loyment  of  the  evening  ceased,  Nigel  appealed  much  to 
Myra,  and  endeavored  to  draw  out  her  mind  and  feelings,  lie 
lent  her  books,  and  books  that  favored,  indirectly  at  least,  his 
own  peculiar  views — volumes  of  divine  poesy  that  had  none  of 
the  twang  of  psalmody,  tales  of  tender  and  sometimes  wild  and 
brilliant  fancy,  but  ever  full  of  symbolic  truth. 

Chess-i)liiying  requires  comi)lete  abstraction,  and  Nigel, 
though  he  was  a  double  iirst,  occasionally  lost  a  game  from  a 
lapse  in  that  condensed  attention  that  secures  triumph.  The 
fact  is,  he  was  too  frequently  thinking  of  something  else  besides 
the  moves  on  the  board,  and  his  ear  was  engaged  while  his  eye 
wandered,  if  Myra  chanced  to  rise  from  her  seat  or  make  the 
slightest  observation. 

The  woods  were  beginning  to  assume  the  first  fair  livery  of 
autumn,  when  it  is  beautiful  without  decay.  The  lime  aid 
the  larch  had  not  yet  dropjoed  a  golden  leaf,  and  the  burnished 
beeches  flamed  in  the  sun.  Every  now  and  then  an  occasional 
oak  or  elm  rose,  still  as  full  of  deep  green  foliage  as  if  it  were 
midsummer ;  while  the  dark  verdure  of  the  pines  sprang  up 
with  effective  contrast  amid  the  gleaming  and  resplendent 
chestnuts. 

There  was  a  glade  at  Ilurstley,  bounded  on  each  side  with 
masses  of  yew,  their  dark  green  lurms  now  studded  with  crim- 
son berries.  Myra  was  walking  one  morning  in  this  glade  when 
she  met  Nigel,  who  w-as  on  one  of  his  daily  i)ilgrimage3,  and  he 
turned  round  and  walked  by  her  side. 

*'  I  am  sure  I  can  not  give  you  news  of  5'our  brother,"  he 
said,  "but  I  have  had  a  letter  this  morning  from  Endvmion. 
He  seems  to  take  great  interest  in  his  debating  club." 

*'  I  am  so  glad  he  has  become  a  member  of  it,"  said  Myra. 


116 


EXDYMIOX. 


**Tliat  kind  Mr.  Treneliarcl,  wliom  I  .sliall  never  sec  to  tluiiik 
him  for  all  his  goodncs.s  to  Endymion,  proposed  him.  It  occu- 
pies liis  evenings  twice  a  week,  and  then  it  gives  him  subjects 
to  think  of  and  read  up  in  the  interval." 

**Ycs;  it  is  a  good  thing,"  said  Nigel,  moodily;  *'and  if 
he  is  destined  for  public  life,  which  ])C!rhaps  he  maybe,  no  con- 
temptible discipline." 

*'  Dear  boy  ! "  said  Myra,  with  a  sigh.  '*  I  do  not  sec  what 
public  life  he  is  destined  to,  excej)t  slaving  at  a  desk.  But 
sometimes  one  has  dreams." 

"  Yes  ;  wc  all  have  dreams,"  said  Xigel,  with  an  air  of  ab- 
straction. 

**  It  is  impossible  to  resist  the  fascination  of  a  fine  autum- 
nal morn,"  said  Myra  ;  "but  give  me  the  long  days  of  summer 
and  its  rich  leafy  joys.  I  like  to  wander  about,  and  dine  at 
nine  o'clock." 

'*  Delightful,  doubtless,  Avith  a  sympathizing  companion." 

"Endymion  was  such  a  charming  companion,"  said  Myra. 

"  But  he  has  left  us,"  said  Nigel ;  "  and  you  are  alone." 

"  I  am  alone,"  said  Myra ;  "  but  I  am  used  to  solitude,  and 
I  can  think  of  him." 

"Would  I  were  Endymion,"  said  Nigel,  "to be  thought  of 
by  you." 

Myra  looked  at  him  with  something  of  a  stare  ;  but  he  con- 
tinued : 

"  All  seasons  would  be  to  me  fascination,  Avere  I  only  by 
your  side.  Yes  ;  I  can  no  longer  repress  the  irresistible  con- 
fession of  my  love.  I  am  here,  and  I  am  here  only,  because  I 
love  you.  I  quitted  Oxford  and  all  its  pride  that  I  might  have 
the  occasional  delight  of  being  your  companion.  I  was  not 
presumptuous  in  my  thoughts,  and  believed  that  would  con- 
tent me  ;  but  I  can  no  longer  resist  the  consummate  spell,  and 
I  offer  you  my  heart  and  my  life." 

"I  am  amazed;  I  am  a  little  overwhelmed,"  said  Myra. 
"  Pardon  me,  dear  Mr.  Penruddock — dear  Nigel — you  speak 
of  things  of  which.  I  have  not  thought." 

"  Think  of  them  !  I  implore  you  to  think  of  them,  and 
now ! " 


A  SISTEH'S  devotiox. 


117 


(( 


rlit  of 


i 


Wc  are  a  fallen  family,"  suiel  Myni,  '' perhaps  a  doomeil 
one.  Wc  arc  not  people  to  connect  yourself  with.  You  havo 
witnesdctl  sonic  of  our  sorrows,  and  soothed  them.  I  shall  bo 
ever  grateful  to  you  for  the  past.  But  I  sometimes  feel  our 
cup  is  not  yet  full,  and  I  have  long  resolved  to  bear  my  cross 
alone.  But,  irrespective  of  all  other  considerations,  I  can 
never  leave  my  father." 

*'I  have  spoken  to  your  father,"  said  Nigel,  *'and  he  ap- 
proved my  suit." 

"  While  my  father  lives  I  shall  not  ([uit  him,"  said  Myra  ;. 
*''  but,  let  me  not  mislead  you,  1  do  not  live  for  my  father — I 
live  for  another." 

**For  another  ?"  inquired  Xigel,  with  anxiety. 

*'For  one  you  know.  My  life  is  devoted  to  Endymion. 
There  is  a  mystic  bond  between  us,  originating,  perlia]M,  in  the 
circumstance  of  our  birth  ;  for  wc  arc  twins.  I  never  mean  ta 
embarrass  him  with  a  sister's  love,  and  perhaps  hereafter  may 
see  less  of  him  even  than  I  sec  now ;  but  I  shall  be  in  the 
■world,  whatever  be  my  lot,  high  or  low — the  active,  stirring 
world — working  for  him,  thinking  alone  of  him.  Yes  ;  mold- 
ing events  and  circumstances  in  his  favor  ;"  and  she  spoke  with 
fiery  animation.  "I  have  brought  myself,  by  long  meditation, 
to  the  conviction  that  a  human  being  with  a  settled  purpose 
must  accomplish  it,  and  that  nothing  can  resist  a  will  that  will 
stake    vcn  existence  for  its  fullillment." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


,  and 


^: 


Endymioit  had  returned  to  his  labors,  after  the  death  of 
his  mother,  much  dispirited.  Though  young  and  hopeful,  his 
tender  heart  could  not  be  insensible  to  the  tragic  end.  There 
is  anguish  in  the  recollection  that  we  have  not  adequately  ap- 
preciated the  affection  of  those  whom  we  have  loved  and  lost. 
It  tortured  him  ta  feel  that  he  had  often  accepted  with  care- 
lessness or  indifference  the  homage  of  a  heart  that  had  been  to 
him  ever  faithful  :.i  its  multiplied  devotion.     Then,  though 


lii 
I 

I 
'} 
,6 

:| 
it 


1 


118 


END  Y MI  ON. 


he  Avas  not  of  a  melancholy  and  hrooding  nature,  in  this  mo- 
ment of  bereavement  he  could  not  drive  from  his  mind  the 
consciousness  that  there  had  long  been  hanging  over  his  home 
a  dark  lot,  as  it  Avere,  of  progressive  adversity.  His  family 
seemed  alwavs  sinkinor,  and  he  felt  conscious  how  ihe  sanguine 
spirit  of  his  mother  had  sustained  them  in  their  trials.  His 
father  had  already  made  him  the  depository  of  his  hopeless 
cares  ;  and  if  anything  happened  to  that  father,  old  and  worn 
out  before  his  time,  what  would  become  of  Myra  ? 

Nigel,  who  in  their  great  calamity  seemed  to  have  thought 
of  everything,  and  to  have  done  everything,  had  written  to  the 
ohief  of  the  office,  and  also  to  Mr.  Trenchard,  explaining  the 
cause  of  the  absence  of  Endymion  from  his  duties.  Thciv- 
Avere  no  explanations,  therefore,  ncecssary  when  he  reappeared  * 
no  complaints,  but  only  sympathy  and  general  kindness.  In 
"Warwick  Street  there  Avas  unaffected  sorroAv  ;  Sylvia  Avept  and 
AATut  into  the  prettiest  mourning  for  her  patroness,  and  ]Mr. 
"Rodney  AA'ore  a  crape  on  his  hat.  '•!  never  saAV  her,"  said 
Imogene,  "but  I  am  told  she  Avas  heaA'cnly." 

Waldcrsharc  Avas  very  kind  to  Endymion,  and  used  to  take 
him  to  the  House  of  Commons  on  interesting  CA'enings,  and,  if 
lie  succeeded  in  getting  Endymion  a  place  under  the  gallery, 
Avould  come  and  talk  to  him  in  the  course  of  the  night,  and 
sometimes  introduce  him  to  the  mysteries  of  Bellamy's,  Avliere 
Endymion  had  the  satisfaction  of  partaking  of  a  steak  in  the 
presence  of  statesmen  and  senators. 

''  You  are  in  the  precincts  of  public  life,"'  said  Waldcrshare  ; 
*''aud  if  you  ever  enter  it,  AA'hich  I  think  you  Avill,"  he  Avould 
add  thoughtfully,  *'  it  Avill  be  interesting  for  you  to  remember 
that  you  liaA'O  seen  these  cliaracters,  many  of  Avhom  Avill  then 
have  passed  aAvay,  like  the  shades  of  a  magic  lantern,"  ho 
added,  with  something  between  a  sigh  and  a  smile.  '*'One  of 
my  constitutents  sent  me  a  homily  this  morning,  the  burden 
of  which  was,  I  neA'er  thought  of  death.  The  idiot !  I  never 
think  of  anything  else.  It  is  my  weakness.  One  should  ncA'cr 
think  of  death.    One  should  think  of  life.    That  is  real  piety." 

This  spring  and  summer  Averc  passed  tranquilly  by  Endym- 
ion, but  not  unprofitably.     He  ncA'er  went  to  any  place  of 


AN  A  UTUMX  VISIT  TO  HOME. 


119 


:liai'0 ; 
h\ould 
'inljcr 
tlicii 
,,"  lie 
lie  of 
iirden 
Inevcr 
never 
lety." 
Iclym- 

\Q    of 


public  amusement,  and,  clicrisliing  his  sorrow,  declined  those 
slight  openings  to  social  life  which  occasionally  offered  them- 
selves even  to  him  ;  but  he  attended  his  debating  club  with 
regularity,  and,  though  silent,  studied  every  subject  which  was 
brought  before  it.  It  interested  him  to  compare  their  sayings 
and  doings  with  those  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  he  found 
advantage  in  the  critical  comparison.  Though  not  in  what  is 
styled  society,  his  mind  did  not  rust  from  the  want  of  intelli- 
gent companions.  The  clear  perception,  accurate  knowledge, 
and  unerring  judgment  of  Trenchard,  the  fantastic  cynicism 
of  St.  Barbe,  and  all  the  stores  of  the  exuberant  and  imagina- 
tive "Waldersharc  were  brought  to  bear  on  a  young  and  plastic 
intelligence,  gifted  with  a  quick  though  not  a  too  profound 
sensibility  which  soon  ripened  into  tact,  and  which,  after  due 
discrimination,  was  tenacious  of  beneficial  impressions. 

In  the  autumn,  Endymion  returned  home  for  a  long  visit 
and  a  happy  one.  He  found  Nigel  settled  at  Ilurstley,  and 
almost  domesticated  at  the  hall ;  his  father  more  cheerful  than 
his  sister's  earlier  letters  had  led  him  to  suppose ;  and  she  her- 
self so  delighted  by  the  constant  companionship  of  her  brother 
that  she  seemed  to  have  resumed  all  her  original  pride  of  life. 

Nearly  two  years'  acquaintance,  however  limited,  with  tlie 
world  had  already  exercised  a  ripening  influence  over  Endym- 
ion. Nigel  soon  perceived  this,  though,  with  a  native  tact 
which  circumstances  had  developed,  Endymion  avoided  obtrud- 
ing his  new  conclusions  upon  his  former  instructor.  But  that 
deep  and  eager  spirit,  unwilling  ever  to  let  a  votary  escape,  and 
absorbed  intellectually  by  one  vast  idea,  would  not  be  baffled. 
Nigel  had  not  renounced  the  early  view  of  Endymion  taking 
orders, and  spoke  of  his  London  life  as  an  incident  which,  with 
his  youth,  he  might  in  time  only  look  upon  as  an  episode  in  his 
existence. 

**  I  trust  I  shall  ever  be  a  devoted  son  of  the  Church,"  said 
Endymion;  *'but  I  confess  I  feel  no  predisposition  to  take 
orders,  even  if  I  had  the  opportunity,  which  probably  I  never 
shall  have.  If  I  were  to  choose  my  career,  it  would  bo  public 
life.  I  am  on  the  last  step  of  the  ladder,  and  I  do  not  suppose 
that  I  can  ever  be  anything  but  a  drudge.     But  even  that 


120 


ENDYMION. 


1 


would  interest  me.  It  brings  one  in  contact  with  those  who 
are  playing  the  great  game.  One  at  least  fancies  one  com- 
prehends something  of  the  government  of  mankind.  Mr. 
Waldershare  takes  me  often  to  the  House  of  Commons,  and,  I 
must  say,  I  am  passionately  fond  of  it." 

After  Endymion's  return  to  London  that  scene  occurred 
between  Nigel  and  Myra,  in  the  glade  at  Hurstley,  which  we 
have  noticed  in  the  preceding  chapter.  In  the  evening  of  that 
day  Nigel  did  not  pay  his  accustomed  visit  to  the  hall,  and  the 
father  and  the  daughter  were  alone.  Then  it  was,  notwith- 
standing evident  agitation,  and  even  with  some  degree  of 
solemnity,  that  Mr.  Ferrars  broke  to  his  daughter  that  there 
was  a  subject  on  which  he  wished  seriously  to  confer  with 
her. 

"  Is  it  about  Nigel  ?  "  she  inquired,  with  calmness. 

"It  isaboutNigeh" 

"  I  have  seen  him,  and  he  has  spoken  to  mc." 

''  And  what  have  you  replied  ?  " 

"  What  I  fear  will  not  be  satisfactory  to  you,  sir,  but  what 
is  irrevocable." 

''  Your  union  would  give  mc  life  and  hope,"  said  Mr.  Fer- 
rars ;  and  then,  as  she  remained  silent,  he  continued  after  a 
pause:  "For  its  happiness  there  seems  every  security.  lie 
is  of  good  family,  and  witli  adequate  means,  and,  I  firmly  be- 
lieve, no  inconsiderable  future.  His  abilities  are  already  recog- 
nized ;  his  disposition  is  noble.  As  for  his  personal  qualities, 
you  arc  a  fitter  judge  than  I  am  ;  ]3ut,  for  my  part,  I  never  saw 
a  countenance  that  more  became  the  beauty  and  nobility  of  his 
character. " 

"I  think  him  very  good-looking,"  said  Myra,  "and  there 
is  no  doubt  lie  is  clever,  and  he  has  shown  himself,  on  more 
than  one  occasion,  amiable." 

"  Then  what  more  can  you  require  ^  "  said  ^Mr.  Ferrars. 

"  I  require  nothing ;  I  do  not  wish  to  marry." 

"  But  my  daughter,  my  dearest  daughter,"  said  Mr.  Fer- 
rars, "bear  with  the  anxiety  of  a  parent  who  is  at  least  devoted 
to  you.  Our  separation  would  be  my  last  and  severest  sorrow, 
and  I  have  had  many ;  but  there  is  no  necessity  to  consider 


f 


sc  wlio 

e  com- 

.     Mr. 

and,  I 

:currcd 
licli  we 
of  that 
and  the 
otwitli- 
^ree  of 
it  there 
er  with 


lit  what 

Ir.  Fcr- 
aftcr  a 

y.    no 

mly  bc- 
i^  rccog- 
lialities, 
Iver  saw 
of  his 

there 
In  more 

[ars. 

[r.  Fer- 
levotcd 
sorrow, 
)nsider 


"^   UEADSTRONG   GIRL:' 


121 


y     ^ 


I 


fi 


tliat  case,  for  Nigel  is  content,  is  more  tlian  content,  lo  live  as 
your  Imsband  under  tliis  roof." 

'•So  he  told  mc." 

''And  that  removed  one  objection  that  you  might  naturally 
feel?" 

"I  certainly  should  never  leave  you,  sir,"  said  Myra,  "and 
I  told  Nigel  so  ;  but  that  contingency  had  nothing  to  do  with 
my  decision.  I  declined  his  offer,  because  I  have  no  wish  to 
marry." 

"Women  are  born  to  be  murricd,"  said  Mr.  Ferrars. 

"And  yet  I  believe  most  marriages  arc  iinhapi^y,"  said 
Myra. 

"  Oh  !  if  your  objection  to  marry  Nigel  arises  from  an  ab- 
stract objection  to  marriage  itself,"  said  Mr.  Fcrrars,  "it  is  a 
subject  which  we  miglit  talk  over  calmly,  and  perhaps  remove 
your  prejudices." 

"I  have  no  prejudices  against  marriage,"  rejoined  Myra. 
"It  is  likely  enougli  that  I  may  marry  some  day,  and  probably 
make  an  unhappy  marriage  ;  but  that  is  not  the  question  be- 
fore us.  It  is  whether  I  should  marry  Nigel.  That  can  not 
be,  my  dear  father,  and  he  knows  it.  I  have  assured  him  so 
in  a  manner  which  can  not  be  mistaken." 

"  We  are  a  doomed  family!"  exclaimed  the  unhappy  Mr. 
Ferrars,  clasping  his  hands. 

"So  I  have  long  felt,"  said  Myra.  "I  can  bear  our  lot ; 
but  I  want  no  strangers  to  be  introduced  to  share  its  bitterness, 
and  soothe  us  with  their  sympathy." 

"You  speak  like  a  girl,"  said  Mr.  Ferrars,  "and  a  head- 
strong girl,  which  j'ou  always  have  been.  You  know  not  what 
you  are  talking  about.  It  is  a  matter  of  life  or  death.  Y^'our 
decorous  marriage  Avould  have  saved  us  from  absolute  ruin." 

"Alone,  I  can  meet  absolute  ruin,"  said  Myra.  "I  have 
long  contemplated  such  a  contingency,  and  am  prepared  for  it. 
My  marriage  with  Nigel  could  hardly  save  you,  sir,  from  such 
a  visitation,  if  it  be  impending.  But  I  trust  in  that  respect, 
if  in  no  other,  you  have  used  a  little  of  the  language  of  exag- 
geration. I  have  never  received,  and  I  htive  never  presumed 
to  seek,  any  knowledge  of  your  affairs ;  but  I  have  assumed. 


I'i    I 


p   i 


I  i 


122 


ENDYMION. 


that  for  your  life,  somehow  or  otlier,  you  would  be  permitted 
to  exist  without  disgi-ace.  If  I  survive  you,  I  have  neither 
care  nor  fear." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

In  the  following  sf  i*ing  a  vexatious  incident  occurred  in 
Warwick  Street.  The  highly  considered  county  member,  who 
was  the  yearly  tenant  of  Mr.  Rodney's  first  floor,  and  had  been 
always  a  valuable  patron,  suddenly  died.  An  adjourned  de- 
bate, a  tough  beefsteak,  a  select  committee  still  harder,  and 
an  influenza  caught  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  in  an  im- 
prudent but  irresistible  walk  home  with  a  confidential  Lord  of 
the  Treasury,  had  combined  very  sensibly  to  affect  the  income 
of  Mr.  Rodney.  At  first  he  was  sanguine  that  such  a  desirable 
dwelling  would  soon  find  a  suitable  inhabitant,  especially  as 
Mr.  Waldersharc  assured  him  that  he  would  mention  the  mat- 
ter to  all  his  friends.  But  time  rolled  on,  and  the  rooms  were 
still  vacant ;  and  the  fastidious  Rodneys,  who  at  first  would 
only  listen  to  a  yearly  tenant,  began  to  reduce  their  expecta- 
tions. Matters  had  arrived  at  such  a  pass  in  May,  tlia^,  for 
the  first  time  in  their  experience,  they  actually  condescended 
to  hoist  an  announcement  of  furnished  apartments. 

In  this  state  of  affairs  a  cab  rattled  up  to  the  house  one 
morning,  out  of  which  a  young  gentleman  jumped  briskly, 
and,  ki^  ocking  at  the  door,  asked,  of  the  servant  who  opened 
it,  whether  he  might  see  the  apartments.  He  was  a  young 
man,  apparently  not  more  than  one  or  two  and  twenty,  of  a 
graceful  figure,  somewhat  above  the  middle  height,  fair,  with 
a  countenance  not  absolutely  regular,  but  calm  and  high-bred. 
His  dress  was  in  the  best  taste,  but  to  a  practiced  eye  had 
something  of  a  foreign  cut,  and  he  wore  a  slight  mustache. 

"The  rooms  will  suit  me,"  he  said,  ''and  I  have  no  doubt 
the  price  you  ask  for  them  is  a  just  one ; "  and  he  bowed  with 
high-bred  courtesy  to  Sylvia,  who  was  now  in  attendance  on 
liim,  and  who  stood  with  her  pretty  hands  in  the  pretty  pock- 
ets of  her  pretty  apron. 


I 


iiittecl 
leither 


•red  in 
sr,  wlio 
id  been 
led  de- 
er, and 
an  im- 
Lord  of 
income 
esirablo 
lially  as 
he  mat- 
ms  were 
,  would 
ixpecta- 
liat,  for 
scended 


lince  on 
pock- 


COLONEL  ALBERT. 


123 


n 


I  am  glad  to  liear  tliat,"  said  Sylvia.  *'  We  liavo  never 
let  them  before,  except  to  a  yearly  tenant." 

''And  if  we  suit  each  other,"  said  the  gentleman,  "1  should 
have  no  great  objection  to  become  such." 

**In  these  matters,"  said  Sylvia,  after  a  little  hesitation, 
"we  give  and  receive  references.  Mr.  Rodney  is  well  known 
in  this  neighborhood  and  in  Westminster  generally  ;  but  I  dare 
say,"  she  adroitly  added,  ''he  has  many  acquaintances  known 
to  you,  sir." 

"Not  very  likely,"  replied  the  young  gentleman;  "fori 
am  a  foreigner,  and  only  arrived  in  England  this  morning ; " 
though  he  spoke  English  without  the  slightest  accent. 

Sylvia  looked  a  little  perplexed  ;  but  ho  continued  :  "It  is 
<piite  just  that  you  should  be  assured  to  wliom  you  are  letting 
your  lodgings.  The  only  reference  I  can  give  you  is  to  my 
banker,  but  he  is  almost  too  great  a  man  for  such  matters. 
Perhaps,"  he  added,  pulling  out  a  ca.-e  from  his  breast  pocket, 
and  taking  out  of  it  a  note,  Avhich  he  handed  to  Sylvia,  "this 
may  assure  you  that  your  rent  will  be  paid." 

Sylvia  took  a  rapid  glance  at  the  hundred-pound  note,  and 
twisting  it  into  her  little  pocket  witli  apparent  sangfroid^ 
though  she  held  it  with  a  tight  grasp,  murmured  that  it  was 
quite  unnecessary,  and  then  offered  to  give  her  new  lodger  an 
acknowledgment  of  it. 

"That  is  really  unnecessary,"  he  replied.  "  Your  appear- 
ance commands  from  me  that  entire  confidence  which  on  your 
part  you  very  properly  refuse  to  a  stranger  and  a  foreigner, 
like  myself." 

"  What  a  charming  young  man  !  "  thought  Sylvia,  pressing 
with  emotion  her  hundred-pound  note. 

"  Now,"  continued  the  young  gentleman,  "I  will  return 
to  the  station  to  release  my  servant,  who  is  a  prisoner  there 
with  my  luggage.  Be  pleased  to  make  him  at  home.  I  shall 
myself  not  return  probably  till  the  evening  ;  and  in  the  mean 
time,"  he  added,  giving  Sylvia  his  card,  "you  will  admit  any- 
thing that  arrives  here  addressed  to  Colonel  Albert." 

The  settlement  of  Colons  Albert  in  Warwick  Street  was  an 
event  of  no  slight  importance.     It  superseded  for  a  time  all 


124 


ENDYMIOy. 


■other  topics  of  conversatiou,  and  was  discussed  a'  length  in  the 
evenings,  especially  with  3Ir.  Vigo.  Who  wps  he  ?  And  in 
"what  service  was  he  colonel  ?  Mr.  Rodney,  like  a  man  of  the 
world,  assumed  that  all  necessary  information  would  in  time 
be  obtained  from  the  colonel's  servant ;  hut  even  men  of  the 
world  sometimes  miscalculate.  The  servant,  who  Avas  a  Bel- 
gian, had  only  been  engaged  by  the  colonel  at  Brussels  a  few 
days  before  his  departure  for  England,  and  absolutely  knew 
nothing  of  his  master,  except  that  he  was  a  gentleman  with 
l)lenty  of  money  and  sufficient  luggage.  Sylvia,  who  was  the 
only  person  who  had  seen  the  colonel,  was  strongly  in  his  favor. 
Mr.  Eodncy  looked  doubtful,  and  avoided  any  definite  opinion 
until  he  had  had  the  advantage  of  an  interview  with  his  new 
lodger.  But  this  was  not  easy  to  obtain.  Colonel  Albert  had 
no  wish  to  see  the  master  of  the  house,  and,  if  he  ever  had  that 
desire,  his  servant  would  accordingly  communicate  it  in  the 
proper  quarter.  At  present  he  w'as  satisfied  "with  all  the  ar- 
rangements, and  wished  neither  to  make  nor  to  receive  re- 
marks. The  habits  of  the  new  lodger  were  somewhat  of  a 
recluse.  lie  was  generally  engaged  in  his  rooms  the  whole 
day,  and  seldom  left  them  till  the  evening,  and  nobody,  as  yet, 
had  called  upon  him.  Under  these  circumstances  Imogenc 
was  instructed  to  open  the  matter  to  ^^y.  Waldershare  when 
she  presided  over  his  breakfast  table  ;  aud  that  gentleman  said 
he  would  make  inquiries  about  the  colonel  at  the  Travelers' 
Club,  where  Waldershare  passed  n'cat  deal  of  his  time.  "If 
he  be  anybody,"  said  Mr.  Waldersaare,  *'  he  is  sure  in  time  to 
h3  known  there,  for  he  Avill  be  introduced  as  a  visitor."  At 
present,  however,  it  turned  out  that  ''The  Travelers'"'  knew 
nothing  of  Colonel  Albert ;  and  time  went  on,  and  Colonel 
Albert  was  not  introduced  as  a  visitor  there. 

After  a  little  while  there  was  a  change  in  the  habits  of  the 
colonel.  One  morning,  about  noon,  a  groom,  extremely  well 
appointed,  and  having  under  his  charge  a  couple  of  steeds  of 
"breed  and  beauty,  called  at  Warwick  Street,  and  the  colonel 
rode  out,  and  was  long  absent,  and  after  that  every  day,  and 
generally  at  the  same  hour,  mounted  his  horse.  Mr.  Rodney 
was  never  wearied  of  catching  a  glimpse  of  his  distinguished 


' 


LWUYJIIOX  .iUMMOXhl)  HOME. 


1-5 


in  the 
Lnd  in 
of  the 
n  time 
of  the 
a  Bel- 
s  a  few 
f  knew 
m  with 
rt^as  the 
3  favor, 
opinion 
liis  new 
ert  had 
ad  that 

in  the 
the  ar- 
rive re- 
at  of  a 
)  whole 

as  yet, 
mogcne 
*e  when 

an  said 

avelers' 

'af 

time  to 

At 

"  knew 

!oloncl 

of  the 
bly  well 
[ceds  of 
Icoloncl 
and 

lodney 
kiishcd 


lodger  over  the  blinds  of  the  gronnd-tloor  room,  and  of  admir- 
ing the  coloncrs  commanding  ])roscncc  in  his  saddle,  distin- 
gnislicd  as  his  scat  was  alike  by  its  grace  and  vigor. 

In  the  conr3C  of  a  little  time,  iinother  incident  connected 
with  the  colonel  occnrred  which  attnictcd  notice  and  excited 
interest.  Toward  the  evening  a  brougham,  marked,  but  (jui- 
ctly,  with  a  foreign  coronet,  .^topjed  frc(iuently  at  Mr.  IJod- 
ney's  house,  and  a  visitor  to  the  colonel  tippearcd  in  the  form  of 
a  middle-aged  gentleman  Avho  never  gave  his  name,  and  evaded, 
it  seemed  with  practiced  dexterity,  every  effort,  however  adroit, 
to  obtain  it.  The  valet  was  tried  on  this  head  also,  and  re- 
plied with  simplicity  that  he  did  not  know  the  gentleman's 
name,  but  he  was  always  called  the  Baron. 

In  the  middle  of  June  a  ])acket  arrived  one  day  by  the 
coach,  from  the  rector  of  Ilurstley,  adtlressed  to  Endymion, 
announcing  his  father's  dangerous  illness,  and  rerp^f^sting  him 
instantly  to  repair  home.  Myra  was  too  much  occupied  to 
write  even  a  line. 


CIIAPTEIi  XXIX. 

It  was  strange  that  Myra  did  not  write,  were  it  only  a  line. 
It  was  so  unlike  her.  IIoav  often  this  occurred  to  Endymion 
during  his  wearisome  and  anxious  travel  !  When  the  coach 
reached  Ilurstley,  he  found  Mr.  Penruddock  waiting  for  him. 
Before  he  could  inquire  after  ^lis  father,  that  gentleman  said, 
"Myra  is  at  the  rectory  ;  you  are  to  come  on  there." 

*'Andmy  father— ?" 

''Matters  are  critical,"  said  ]\lr.  Penruddock,  as  it  were 
avoiding  a  direct  answer,  and  hastening  his  pace. 

It  was  literally  not  a  five  minutes'  Avalk  from  the  village 
inn  to  the  rectory,  and  they  walked  in  silence.  The  rector 
took  Endymion  at  once  into  his  study  ;  for  we  can  hardly  call 
it  a  library,  though  some  shelves  of  books  were  there,  and 
many  stuffed  birds. 

Tlie  rector  closed  the  door  with  care,  and  looked  distressed  ; 
^nd,  beckoning  to  Endymion  to  be  seated,  he  said,  while  still 


126 


E2TDYMI0X. 


U 


5  ■.' 


.:)    . 


standing  and  half  turning  away  his  head,  ''My  dear  hoy,  pro 
pare  yourself  for  tiic  wor.<t." 

"All  !  he  is  gone  then  !  my  dear,  dear  fallier !  "  and  En- 
dymion  hurst  into  passionate  tears,  and  leaned  on  the  tahlc,  iiis 
face  hid  in  his  hands. 

The  rector  walked  up  and  down  the  room  with  an  agitated 
countenance,  lie  could  not  deny,  it  would  seem,  the  infer- 
ence of  Endymion  ;  and  yet  he  did  not  proffer  those  consola- 
tions Avhicli  might  he  urged,  and  which  it  became  one  in  his 
capacity  peculiarly  to  urge. 

"I  must  see  Myra,"  said  Endymion,  eagerly,  looking  up 
with  a  wild  air  and  streaming  c}es. 

''Not  yet,"  said  the  rector;  ''she  is  much  disturbed. 
Your  poor  father  is  no  more  ;  it  is  too  true ;  but,"  and  hero 
the  rector  hesitated,  "he  did  not  die  happily." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  said  Endymion. 

"  Your  poor  father  had  much  to  try  him,"  said  the  rector. 
"  His  life,  since  he  was  among  us  here,  was  a  life,  for  him,  of 
adversity — perhaps  of  great  adversity — yet  he  bore  up  against 
it  with  a  Christian  spirit ;  he  never  repined.  There  was  much 
that  was  noble  and  exalted  in  his  character.  But  ho  never 
overcame  the  loss  of  vour  dear  mother.  IIo  was  never  himself 
afterward.  He  was  not  always  master  of  himself.  I  could 
bear  witness  to  that,"'  said  the  rector,  talking,  as  it  Avere,  to 
himself.  "  Yes  ;  I  could  conscientiously  give  evidence  to  that 
effect—" 

"  What  effect  ?"  asked  Endymion,  with  a  painful  scrutiny. 

"I  could  show,"  stiid  the  rector,  speaking  slowly,  and  in  a 
low  voice,  "and  others  could  show,  that  he  was  not  master  of 
him.-elf  when  he  committed  the  rash  act." 

"Oh!  Mr.  Penruddock  !"  exclaimed  Endymion,  starting 
from  his  chair,  and  seizing  the  rector  by  his  arm.  "What  is 
all  this?" 

"That  a  great  sorrow  has  come  ujion  you,  and  your  sister, 
and  all  of  us,"  said  Mr.  Penruddock  ;  "and  you,  and  she,  and 
all  of  us  must  bow  before  the  Divine  Avill  in  trembling,  though 
in  hope.     Your  father's  death  was  not  natural. " 

Such  was  the  end  of  William  Pitt  Ferrars,  on  whom  nature. 


A  SOIiROWFUL  MEETLWa. 


127 


hat  is 


*""o' 


opportunity,  and  culture  api)eare(l  to  hr.ve  showered  every  ad- 
vantage, llis  abihties  were  considerable,  his  ambition  greater. 
Though  intensely  worldly,  ho  was  not  devoid  of  affections. 
lie  found  refuge  in  suicide,  as  many  do,  from  want  of  imagina- 
tion. The  present  was  too  hard  for  liini,  and  his  future  was 
only  a  chaotic  nebula. 

Endymion  did  not  sc^  his  sister  that  evening.  She  was  not 
made  aware  of  his  arrival,  and  Avas  alone  with  Mrs.  Penruddock, 
who  never  left  her  night  or  da  v.  The  rector  took  charge  of 
her  brother,  and  had  a  sofa-bed  made  for  liim  in  the  kind 
man's  room.  lie  was  never  to  be  alone.  Never  the  whole 
night  did  poor  Endymion  close  his  eyes  ;  and  he  was  almost  as 
much  agitated  about  the  impending  interview  with  Myra,  as 
about  the  dark  event  of  terror  that  had  been  disclosed  to  him. 

Yet  that  dreaded  interview  must  take  place ;  and,  about 
noon,  the  rector  told  hin.  that  Myra  was  in  the  drawing-room 
II  alone,  and  would  receive  him.     He  tottered  as  he  crossed  the 

jf  hall ;  grief  and  physical  exhaustion  had  unmanned  him  ;  his 

eyes  were  streaming  with  tears  ;  he  paused  for  a  moment  with 
his  hand  upon  the  door  ;  he  dreaded  the  anguish  of  her  coun- 
tenance. 

She  advanced  and  embraced  him  with  tenderness  ;  her  face 
was  grave,  but  not  a  tear  even  glistened. 

"  I  have  been  living  in  a  tragedy  for  years,"  said  Myra,  in  a 
low,  hollow  voice  ;  ''and  the  catastrophe  has  now  arrived." 

"Oh,  my  dear  father!"  exclaimed  Endymion;  and  he 
burst  into  a  renewed  paroxysm  of  grief. 

'•'Yes  ;  he  was  dear  to  us,  and  we  were  dear  to  him,"  said 
Myra;  "but  the  curtain  has  fallen.  We  liavc  to  exert  our- 
selves. Energy  and  self-control  were  never  more  necessary  to 
two  human  beings  than  to  us.  Here  are  his  keys  ;  his  pa])crs 
must  be  examined  by  no  one  but  ourselves.  There  is  a  terrible 
ceremony  taking  place,  or  impending.  When  it  is  all  over, 
we  must  visit  the  hall  at  least  once  more. " 

The  whole  neighborhood  was  full  of  sorrow  for  the  event, 
and  of  sympathy  for  those  bereft.  It  was  universally  agreed 
that  Mr.  Ferrars  had  never  recovered  the  death  of  his  wife ; 
had  never  been  the  same  man  after  it ;  had  become;  distrait. 


128 


EKDYMION. 


absent,  Avaiulerinf^  in  liis  mind,  and  the  victim  of  an  invincible 
melancholy.  Several  instances  were  given  of  his  inability  to 
manage  his  affairs.  The  jnry,  with  Farmer  Thornbcrry  for 
foreman,  hesitated  not  in  giving  a  becoming  verdict.  In  those 
days  information  traveled  slowly.  There  were  no  railroads 
then,  and  no  tclopraphs,  and  not  many  clubs.  A  Avcek  elapsed 
before  the  sad  occurrence  Avas  chronicled  in  a  provincial  paper, 
and  another  week  before  the  report  was  reproduced  in  London, 
iind  tlien  in  an  obscure  corner  of  the  journal,  and  in  small 
print.  Everything  gets  about  at  last,  and  the  world  began  to 
stare  and  tnlk  ;  bat  it  passed  unnoticed  to  the  sufferers,  except 
l)y  a  letter  from  Zcnobia,  received  at  Ilurstley  after  ^Myra  hr.d 
departed  from  her  kind  friends.  Zenobia  was  shocked,  nay, 
overwhelmed,  by  what  she  had  heard  ;  wanted  to  know  if  sho 
could  be  of  use  ;  offered  to  do  anything  ;  begged  Myra  to  come 
and  stay  with  her  in  St.  James'  Square  ;  and  assured  her  that, 
if  that  were  not  convenient,  when  her  mourning  was  over,  Ze- 
nobia would  present  her  at  court,  Just  the  same  as  if  she  were 
her  own  daughter. 

When  the  fatal  keys  were  used,  and  the  papers  of  ^Mr.  Fer- 
rars  examined,  it  turned  out  worse  than  even  ^lyra,  in  her 
darkest  prescience,  had  anticipated.  Iler  father  had  died  ab- 
solutely penniless.  As  executor  of  his  father,  the  funds  settled 
on  his  wife  had  remained  under  his  sole  control,  and  they  Iiad 
entirely  disappeared.  There  was  a  letter  addressed  to  Myra  on 
this  subject.  She  read  it  with  a  pale  face,  said  nothing,  and, 
•without  showing  it  to  Endymion,  destroyed  it.  There  was  to 
be  an  immediate  sale  of  their  effects  at  the  hall.  It  was  calcu- 
lated that  the  expenses  of  the  funeral  and  all  the  country  bills 
might  be  defrayed  by  its  proceeds. 

**And  there  will  be  enough  left  for  mc,"  said  Myra.  *'I 
only  want  ten  pounds  ;  for  I  have  ascertained  that  there  is  no 
part  of  England  where  ten  pounds  will  not  take  me." 

Endymion  sighed  and  nearly  wept  when  she  said  these 
things.     "No,"  he  would  add  ;  '*  we  must  never  part." 

"  That  would  insure  our  common  ruin,"  said  Myra.  "  No  ; 
I  will  never  embarrass  you  with  a  sister.  You  can  only  just 
subsist ;  for  you  could  not  well  live  in  a  garret,  except  at  the 


tup:  xi:rciiATi:Ls. 


1-2!) 


Ivodiicys'.  I  sec  my  way,"  said  Myra  ;  '*  I  liave  long  meditated 
over  llii-s — I  can  draw,  I  can  sini:.  I  can  speak  many  tongues; 
J  ought  to  be  able  to  get  food  and  clothing  ;  I  may  get  some- 
thing more.  And  I  shall  always  be  content ;  for  I  shall  always 
bo  thinking  of  yon.  However  humble  even  my  lot,  if  my  will 
is  concentrated  on  one  purpose,  it  must  ultimately  effect  it. 
That  is  my  creed,"  she  said,  "and  I  hold  it  fervently.  [  will 
stay  with  these  dear  peo^de  for  a  little  while.  They  are  not 
exactly  the  family  on  which  I  ought  to  trespass.  But  never 
mind.  You  will  be  a  great  nnin  some  day,  Endymion,  and 
you  will  remember  the  good  Penru'ldocks."' 


"I 

is  no 

these 

I' No; 

just 

It  the 


1 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  families  that  have  ever  flour- 
ished in  England  were  the  XErcii.vTELS.  Their  founder  was 
a,  Swiss,  who  had  established  a  banking  house  of  high  repnto 
in  England  in  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and, 
irrespective  of  a  powerful  domestic  connection,  had  in  time 
pretty  well  engrossed  the  largest  and  best  portion  of  foreign 
banking  business.  When  the  great  French  Revolution  occurred, 
all  the  emigrants  deposited  their  jewels  and  their  treasure  with 
the  Neuchatels.  As  the  disturbances  spread,  their  example  was 
followed  by  the  alarmed  proprietors  and  capitalists  of  the  rest 
of  Europe  ;  and,  independently  of  their  own  considerable  moans, 
the  Xcuchatels  thus  had  the  command  for  a  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury, more  or  less,  of  adventitious  millions.  They  were  scru- 
pulous and  faithful  stewards  ;  but  they  were  doubtless  repaid 
for  their  vigilance,  their  anxiety,  and  often  their  risk,  by  tho 
opportunities  which  these  rare  resources  permitted  them  to 
enjoy.  One  of  the  Xcuchatels  was  a  favorite  of  Mr.  Pitt,  and 
assisted  the  great  statesman  in  his  vast  financial  arrangements. 
This  Neuchatel  was  {?.  mar.  of  large  capacity,  and  thoroughly 
understood  his  period  The  minister  wished  to  introduce  him 
to  public  life,  would  have  opened  Parliament  to  him,  and  no 
doubt  have  shov^-.red  on  him  honors  and  titles.    But  Neuchatel 


180 


EXDYMTOy. 


(Icclined  tlic.^c  overtures,  lie  was  one  of  tlio.sc  (strong  minds 
who  will  concentrate  their  energies  on  one  ol)jeet  ;  without 
jtersonal  vanity,  but  with  a  deep-^eatetl  pride  in  the  future. 
He  wa.^'  always  preparing  for  his  posterity.  (Joverned  by  this 
l)a.ssi()n,  although  Ik-  himself  would  have  been  content  to  live 
for  ever  in  Bishopsgate  Street,  where  he  was  born,  lie  had  be- 
come possessed  of  a  vast  principality,  and  which,  strange  to 
say,  with  every  advantage  of  splendor  and  natural  beauty,  was 
not  an  hour's  drive  from  Whitechapel. 

IIainal'LT  IIoisi:  had  been  raised  by  a  British  i)eer  in  the 
days  when  nobks  were  fond  of  building  Palladian  i)alaces.  It 
Avas  a  chief  work  of  Sir  William  Chambers,  and  in  its  style,  its 
beauty,  and  almost  in  its  dimensions,  was  a  rival  of  Stowo 
or  Wanstead.  It  stood  in  a  deer  park,  and  was  snrrounded  by 
a  royal  forest.  The  family  that  had  raised  it  wore  out  in  the 
earlier  part  of  this  century.  It  was  supposed  that  the  place 
must  be  destroyed  and  dismantled.  It  was  too  vast  for  a  citi- 
zen, and  the  locality  was  no  longer  sufticiently  refined  for  a 
conscript  father.  In  this  dilemma,  Nenchatel  stepped  in  and 
purchased  the  whole  affair — palace,  and  park,  and  deer,  and 
pictures,  and  halls,  and  galleries  of  statue  and  bust,  and  furni- 
ture, and  even  wines,  and  all  the  farms  that  remained,  and  all 
the  seigneurial  rights  in  the  royal  forest.  But  he  never  lived 
there.  Though  he  spared  nothing  in  the  maintenance  and  the 
improvement  of  the  domain,  except  on  a  Sunday  he  never 
visited  it,  and  wj  ;  never  known  to  sleep  under  its  roof.  '^  It 
Avill  be  ready  for  those  who  come  after  me,"  he  Avould  remark, 
Avith  a  modest  smile. 

Those  who  came  after  him  were  two  sons,  betAA'een  whom 
his  millions  were  divided  ;  and  Adrian,  the  eldest,  in  addition 
to  his  share,  Avas  made  the  lord  of  Ilainault.  Adrian  had  in- 
herited something  more,  and  something  more  precious,  than 
his  father's  treasure — a  not  inferior  capacity,  united,  in  his 
case,  Avitli  much  culture,  and  with  a  worldly  ambition  to  Avhich 
his  father  was  a  stranger.  So  long  as  that  father  lived,  Adrian 
had  been  extremely  circumspect.  He  seemed  only  devoted  to 
business,  and  to  model  his  conduct  on  that  of  his  eminent  sire. 
That  father  aa'Iio  had  recognized  with  pride  and  satisfaction 


1 


ADIUAX  M-rCIIMKL 


131 


wliom 
dition 
ad  in- 

tlian 
in  his 
Nvhicli 
.drian 
;ed  to 

sire, 
iction 


\ 


his  capacity,  and  wlio  was  witliout  jealousy,  had  initiated  his 
son  during  his  lifetime  in  all  the  secrets  of  his  wondrous  craft, 
and  had  intrusted  him  with  a  leading  part  in  their  affairs. 
Adrian  had  waited  in  Downing  Street  on  Lord  Liverpool,  as 
his  father  years  hefore  had  waited  on  Mr.  Pitt. 

Tlie  Cider  Neuchatel  departed  this  life  a  little  hefore  the 
second  French  Kevolution  of  1830,  which  liad  heen  so  fatal  to 
Mr.  Ferrars.  Adrian,  who  had  never  committed  himself  in 
l)()litics,  further  than  sitting  a  short  time  for  a  rej)uted  Tory 
borough  for  which  he  paid  a  rent  of  a  thousand  a  year  to  the 
pr()[)rietor,  but  who  was  known  to  have  been  nurtured  in  the 
Kcliool  of  Pitt  and  Wellington,  astonished  the  world  by  voting 
for  Lord  CJrcy's  Reform  Bill,  and  announcing  himself  as  a 
Liberal.  This  was  a  large  lish  for  the  new  Liberal  Treasury 
to  capture  ;  their  triumph  was  great,  and  they  determined  to 
show  that  they  appreciated  the  power  and  the  influence  of  their 
new  ally.  At  the  dissolution  of  1831,  Adrian  Neuchatel  was 
u  candidate  for  a  popular  constituency,  and  was  elected  at  the 
head  of  the  poll.  His  brother,  Melchior,  was  also  returned, 
and  a  nephew.  The  Liberals  were  alarmed  by  a  subscription 
of  fabulous  dimensions  said  to  have  been  collected  by  the  To- 
ries to  influence  the  General  Election  ;  and  the  undoubted  con- 
tribution of  a  noble  duke  was  particularly  mentioned,  which 
alone  appalled  the  heart  of  Brooks'.  The  matter  was  put  be- 
fore Xeuchatel,  as  he  entered  the  club,  to  w^hich  he  '^ad  been 
recently  elected  with  acclamation.  '*  So  you  are  a  little  fright- 
ened," he  said,  with  a  peculiarly  witching  smile  wdiich  he  had, 
half  mockery  and  half  good  nature  ;  as  much  as  to  say,  ''  I 
will  do  what  you  wish,  but  I  see  through  you  and  everybody 
else."  ''  So  you  are  a  little  frightened.  "Well ;  we  City  men 
must  see  what  we  can  do  against  the  dukes.  You  may  put  me 
down  for  double  his  amount." 

Adrian  purchased  a  very  fine  mansion  in  Portland  Place, 
and  took  up  his  residence  formally  at  Ilaiuault.  He  delighted 
in  the  place,  and  to  dwell  there  in  a  manner  becoming  the 
scene  had  always  been  one  of  his  dreams.  Now  he  lived  there 
with  unbounded  expenditure.  He  was  passionately  fond  of 
horses,  and  even  in  his  father's  lifetime  had  run  some  at  New- 


102 


EXD  YMIOX. 


markot  in  another  name.  The  slables  at  Ilainault  liad  been 
modeled  on  those  at  Chantilly,  and  were  almost  as  splendid  a 
pile  as  the  mansion  itself.  Thc}Mvere  soon  full,  and  of  first- 
rate  animals  in  their  ditterent  ways.  With  his  choice  teams 
Adrian  could  reach  Bishopsgate  from  Ilainault,  particularly  if 
there  "svere  no  stoppages  in  Whitcchapel,  in  much  under  an 
liour. 

If  he  had  fifty  persons  in  his  stables,  there  were  certainly  as 
many  in  his  park  and  gardens.  These  latter  were  most  elab- 
orate. It  seemed  there  was  nothing  that  Ilainault  could  not 
produce  :  all  the  fruits  and  ilowers  of  the  tropics.  The  con- 
s^ervatorics  and  forcing-houses  looked,  in  the  distance,  like  a 
city  of  glass.  But,  after  all,  the  portion  of  this  immense 
establishment  which  was  most  renowned,  and  perhaps,  on  the 
whole,  best  api)reciated,  was  the  establishment  of  the  kitchen. 
The  chief  was  the  greatest  celebrity  of  Europe  ;  and  he  had  no 
limit  to  his  staff,  which  he  had  selected  with  the  utmost  scru- 
tiny, maintained  with  becoming  spirit,  and  vvinnoAvcd  with 
unceasing  vigilance.  Every  day  at  Ilainault  was  a  banquet. 
AVliat  delighted  Adrian  was  to  bring  down  ivithout  notice  a  trooj) 
of  friends,  conscious  they  would  be  received  as  well  as  if  there 
liad  been  a  preparation  of  Aveeks.  Sometimes  it  was  a  body 
from  tlio  Stock  Exchange,  sometimes  a  host  from  the  House  of 
Commons,  sometimes  a  board  of  directors  with  whom  he  had 
been  transacting  business  in  the  morning.  It  delialited  Adrian 
to  see  them  (juatfing  his  burgundy,  and  stuffing  down  his  truf- 
fles, and  his  choice  pies  from  Strasbourg,  and  all  the  delicate 
dishes  Avhich  many  of  them  looked  at  with  wonder,  and  tasted 
with  timidiiy.  And  then  he  Avould,  with  his  particular  smile, 
gay  to  a  brctb.er  bank-director  whose  mouth  was  full,  and  who 
could  only  answer  hirr.  with  his  eyes,  "Business  gives  one  an 
appetite  ;  eh,  Mr.  Trodgits  ?" 

Sunday  was  always  a  great  day  at  Ilainault.  The  Royal 
and  the  Stock  Exchanges  were  both  of  them  always  fully  rep- 
resented ;  and  then  they  often  had  an  opportunity,  which  they 
liiglily  appreciated,  of  seeing  and  conferring  with  some  public 
chai'i'cters,  M.  P.s  of  note  or  promise,  and  occasionally  a  secre- 
tary of  the  treasury,  or  a  privy  councilor.     **  Turtle  makes  all 


1; 


MRS.   XErCIfA  TEL. 


133 


Royal 

li  they 
nublic 
Isocrc- 
les  nil 


mon  equal,"  Adrian  would  observe.  "Our  friend  Trodgits 
seemed  a  little  embarrassed  at  first,  when  I  introduced  him  to 
the  Right  Honorable  ;  but  when  they  sat  next  each  other  at 
dinner,  they  soon  got  on  very  Avell.*' 

On  Sunday  the  guests  walked  about  and  amused  themselves. 
No  one  was  allowed  to  ride  or  drive  ;  Mrs.  Neuchatel  did  not 
like  ridinfr  and  driving  on  Snndavs.  *'  I  see  no  harm  in  it," 
Faid  Adrian,  "  but  I  like  Avomcn  to  have  their  way  al)out  reli- 
gion. And  you  may  go  to  the  stables  and  see  the  horses,  and 
that  might  take  up  the  morning.  And  thon  there  are  the 
houses  ;  they  Avill  amuse  you.  For  my  part,  I  am  for  a  stroll 
in  the  forest ;"  and  then  he  would  lead  his  companions,  after 
ti  delightful  ramble,  to  some  spot  of  agrestic  charm,  and,  look- 
ing at  it  with  delight,  would  say,  '"  Pretty;  is  not  it?  Rut 
then  they  say  this  place  is  not  fashionable.  It  will  do,  I  think, 
for  us  City  men." 

Adrian  had  married,  when  very  young,  a  lady  selected  by 
his  father.  The  selection  seemed  a  good  one.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  a  most  eminent  banker,  and  had  herself,  though 
that  was  of  slight  importance,  a  large  i)ortion.  She  w%is  a 
woman  of  abilities,  highly  cultivated.  Nothing  had  ever  been 
spared  that  fIig  shoulel  possess  every  possible  accomplishment, 
and  acquire  every  information  and  grace  that  it  was  desirable 
to  attain.  She  was  a  linguist,  a  fine  musician,  no  mean  artist ; 
and  she  threw  out,  if  she  Avillcd  it,  the  treasures  of  her  well- 
stored  and  not  unimaginative  mind  with  ease  and  sometimes 
eloquence.  Her  person,  without  being  absolutely  beautiful, 
was  interesting.  There  was  even  a  degree  of  fascinaiion  in  her 
brown  velvet  eyes.  And  yet  Mrs.  Neuehatel  was  not  a  con- 
tented spirit;  and  though  she  a])preciatcd  the  great  qualities 
of  her  husband,  and  viewed  him  even  with  reverence  as  well  as 
afTeetion,  she  scarcely  contributed  to  his  happiness  as  much  as 
became  her.  And  for  this  reason.  Whether  it  were  the  result 
of  physical  organization,  or  whether  it  were  the  satiety  which 
was  the  consequence  of  having  been  born,  and  bred,  and  lived 
for  ever,  in  a  society  in  which  wealth  was  the  prime  object  of 
existence,  and  practically  the  test  of  excellence,  ^[rs.  Xeucha- 
tol  had  imbibed  not  merely  a  contempt  for  money,  but  abso- 


131 


EKDYMIOy. 


lutcly  a  hatred  of  it.  Tlio  prosperity  of  her  house  depressed 
her.  The  stables  witli  their  fifty  grooms,  and  the  grounds  with 
their  fifty  gardeners,  and  the  daily  visit  of  the  head  cook  to 
pass  the  bill  of  fare,  were  incidents  and  circumstances  that 
made  her  melancholy.  She  looked  upon  the  Stock  Exchange 
coming  down  to  dinner  as  she  would  on  an  inyasion  of  the 
Visigoths,  and  endured  the  stiff  observations  or  the  cumbrous 
liveliness  of  the  merchants  and  bank  directors  with  gloomy 
grace.  Something  less  material  might  be  anticipated  from  the 
members  of  Parliament.  But  whether  they  thought  it  would 
please  the  genius  of  the  place,  or  whether  Adrian  selected  his 
friends  from  those  who  sympathized  with  his  pursuits,  the 
members  of  Parliament  seemed  wonderfully  to  accord  with  the 
general  tone  of  the  conversation,  or  varied  it  only  bj  indulg- 
ing in  technical  talk  of  their  own.  Sometimes  she  would  make 
a  desperate  effort  to  change  the  elements  of  their  society ; 
something  in  this  way  :  "  I  see  M.  Arago  and  M.  Mignet  have 
arrived  here,  Adrian.  Do  not  you  think  we  ought  to  invite 
them  here  ?  And  then  you  might  ask  Mr.  Macaulay  to  meet 
them.     You  said  you  wishod  to  ask  Mr.  Macaulay." 

In  one  respect  the  alliance  between  Adrian  and  his  wife  was 
not  an  unfortunate  one.  A  woman,  and  a  woman  of  abilities, 
fastidious,  and  inclined  to  be  querulous,  might  safely  be  counted 
on  as,  in  general,  insuring  for  both  parties  in  their  union  an 
unsatisfactory  and  unhappy  life.  But  Adrian,  though  kind, 
generous,  and  indulgent,  was  so  absorbed  by  his  own  gront 
affairs,  was  a  man  at  the  same  time  of  so  serene  a  temper  aii<? 
so  supreme  a  will,  that  the  over-refined  phantasies  of  his  wife 
produced  not  the  slightest  effect  on  the  course  of  his  life. 
Adrian  Neuchatel  was  what  very  few  people  are — master  in 
his  own  house.  With  a  rich  varnish  of  graciousness  and  favor, 
he  never  swerved  from  his  purpose ;  and,  though  willing  to 
effect  all  things  by  smiles  and  sweet  temper,  he  had  none  of 
that  morbid  sensibility  which  allows  some  men  to  fret  over  a 
phrase,  to  be  tortured  by  a  sigh,  or  to  be  subdued  by  a  tear. 

There  had  been  born  of  this  marriage  only  one  child,  the 
greatest  heiress  in  England.  She  had  been  christened,  after 
her  father,  Adriana.     She  was  now  about  seventeen ;  and, 


life. 

Iter  in 

I  favor, 

jing  to 

)ne  of 

)ver  a 

Dar. 

I,  the 

after 

and. 


!>' 


I 


f! 


AN-  ADVERTISEMEXT. 


135 


hud  L^c  not  been  endowed  witli  the  finest  disposition  and  the 
sweetest  temper  in  the  workl,  slie  must  have  been  spoiled,  for 
both  her  parents  idolized  her.  To  see  her  every  day  was  for 
Adrian  a  reward  for  all  his  labors,  and  in  the  midst  of  his 
greatest  affairs  he  would  always  snatch  a  moment  to  think  how 
he  could  contribute  to  her  pleasure  or  lier  happiness.  All  that 
was  rare  and  delightful  and  beaiitiful  in  the  world  was  at  her 
command.  There  was  no  limit  to  the  gratification  of  her  wishes. 
But,  alas  !  this  favored  maiden  Avished  for  nothing.  Her  books 
interested  her,  and  a  beautiful  nature  ;  but  she  liked  to  be  alone, 
or  with  her  mother.  She  was  impressed  with  the  horrible  and 
humiliating  conviction  that  she  was  courted  and  admired  only 
for  her  wealth. 

"What  my  daughter  requires,"  said  Adrian,  as  he  mused 
over  these  domestic  contrarieties,  '•  is  a  companion  of  her  own 
age.  Her  mother  is  the  very  Avorst  constant  companion  she 
could  have.  She  requires  somebody  with  charm,  and  yet  of  a 
commanding  mind  ;  with  youthful  sympathy,  and  yet  influenc- 
ing her  in  the  right  way.  It  must  be  a  person  of  birth  ai\d 
breeding  and  complete  self-respect.  I  do  not  want  to  have  any 
parasites  in  my  house,  or  affected  fine  ladies.  That  would  do 
no  good.  What  I  do  want  is  a  thing  very  difficult  to  procure. 
And  yet  they  say  everything  is  to  be  obtained.  At  least,  I  have 
always  thought  so,  and  found  it  so.  I  have  the  greatest  opin- 
ion of  an  adverti  .ement  in  the  *  Times.'  I  got  some  of  my  best 
clerks  by  advertisements  in  the  'Times.'  If  I  had  consulted 
friends,  there  would  have  been  no  end  o^'  jobbing  for  such 
patronage.  One  could  not  trust,  in  such  matters,  one's  own 
brother.  I  will  draw  up  an  advertisement  and  insert  it  in  the 
'  Times,*  and  liave  the  references  to  my  counting-house.  I  will 
think  over  the  wording  as  I  drive  to  town."  This  was  the 
wording : 

ADVERTISEMENT. 

A  BANKER  and  his  "Wife  reqiure  a  Companion  for  their  only  child, 
-^^  a  young  lady  whose  accomplishments  and  acquirements  are  already 
considerable.  The  friend  that  they  would  wish  for  her  must  be  of  about 
the  same  age  as  herself,  and  in  every  other  respect  their  lots  will  bo  the 
same.    The  person  thus  desired  will  be  received  and  treated  as  a  daugh- 


ICO 


FXDYMTi'y. 


! 


\l 


ter  of  the  liouse,  will  be  allowed  her  own  suite  of  apartments,  her  own 
servants  and  equipage.  She  must  be  a  person  of  birth,  breedin;/,  and 
entire  self-respect;  with  a  mind  and  expevience  capable  of  directinuf 
conduct,  and  with  manners  which  will  engage  Lj-^ipathy.— Api)ly  to 
U.  II.,  4o  Bishopsgate  Street  Within. 

This  {idvertisement  met  the  eye  of  Myra  at  Ilursiley  Rec- 
tory about  a  month  after  her  father's  death,  and  slie  resolved 
>to  answer  it.  Her  reply  pleased  Mr.  Neiichatel.  He  selected 
it  out  of  hundreds,  and  placed  himself  in  communication  with 
Mr.  Penruddock.  The  result  was,  that  Miss  Ferrars  was  to 
pay  a  visit  to  the  Xeuchatels  ;  and  if,  on  experience,  they  liked 
■each  otlier,  the  engagement  was  to  take  place. 

In  the  mean  time  the  good  rector  of  llurstley  arrived  on  the 
previous  evening  with  his  ])rccious  charge  at  Ilainault  House  ; 
and  Avas  rewarded  for  his  kind  exertions,  not  only  by  the  pros- 
pect of  assisting  ^lyra,  but  by  some  present  experience  of  a 
splendid  and  unusual  scene. 


CII.VPTER    XXXI. 

''What  do  you  think  of  lier,  mamma  ?"  said  Adriana,  with 
glistening  eyes,  as  she  ran  into  Mrs.  Neuchatel's  dressing-room 
for  a  moment  before  dinner. 

"  I  think  her  manners  arc  perfect,"  replied  Mrs.  Neuchatel ; 
*'  and  as  there  can  be  no  doubt,  after  all  we  have  heard,  of  her 
princi])lc3,  I  think  we  are  most  fortunate.  But  what  do  you 
think  of  her,  Adriana  ?  For,  after  all,  that  is  the  main  ques- 
tion ?  " 

*'  I  think  she  is  divine,"  said  Adriana  ;  *'but  I  fear  she  has 
no  heart." 

*' And  why  ?  Surely  it  is  early  to  decide  on  such  a  matter 
as  that ! " 

''When  I  took  her  to  her  room,"  said  Adriana,  *'I  suppose 
I  was  nervous  ;  but  I  burst  into  tears,  and  tlirew  my  arms  round 
her  neck  and  embraced  her,  but  she  did  not  respond.     Sho 


TABLE  TALK. 


137 


pliatcl ; 

I  of  her 

lo  you 

qucs- 

lliG  has 

natter 

lipposo 
1  round 
She 


touclicd  my  forclicad  Avith  her  Y\\^^,  aud  withdrew  from  my 
embrace. " 

"She  wished,  perhaps,  to  teacli  you  to  control  your  emo- 
tions," said  Mrs.  NeuchateL  ''You  liave  known  her  only  an 
hour,  and  you  could  not  have  done  more  to  your  own  mother." 

It  had  been  arranged  that  there  should  be  no  visitors  to- 
day ;  only  a  nephew  and  a  foreign  consul-general,  just  to 
break  the  formality  of  the  meeting.  ^Ir.  Neuchatel  placed 
Mvra  next  to  himself  at  tho  round  table,  and  treated  her  with 
marked  consideration — cordial  but  courteous,  and  easy,  with  a 
certain  degree  of  deference.  His  wife,  who  i)i4ued  herself  on 
her  perception  of  character,  threw  her  brown  velvet  eyes  on 
her  neighbor,  Mr.  Penruddock,  and  cross-examined  him  in 
mystical  whispers.  She  soon  iccognizcd  his  love  of  nature  ; 
and  this  allowed  her  to  dissert  on  the  subject,  at  once  sublime 
and  inexhaustible,  with  copiousness  worthy  of  the  theme. 
AVhcn  she  found  he  Avas  an  entomologist,  and  that  it  was  not 
so  much  mountains  as  insects  which  interested  him,  she  shifted 
her  ground,  but  treated  it  Avith  equal  felicity.  Strange,  but 
nature  is  never  so  powerful  as  in  insect  life.  The  Avhitc  ant 
can  destroy  fleets  Jind  cities,  and  the  locusts  erase  a  province. 
And  then,  hoAV  beneficent  they  arc  !  Man  Avould  find  it  difil- 
cult  to  riA'al  their  exploits  :  the  bee,  that  giA'CS  us  honey  ;  the 
Avorm,  that  giATs  us  silk  ;  the  cochineal,  that  supplies  our 
manufactures  Avith  their  most  brilliant  dye. 

Mr.  Penruddock  did  not  seem  to  knoAV  much  about  manu- 
factures, but  ahvays  recommended  his  cottagers  to  keep  bees. 

"The  lime-tree  abounds  in  our  village,  and  there  is  nothing 
the  bees  loA'e  more  than  its  blossoms." 

This  direct  reference  to  his  village  led  Mrs.  Neuchatel  to 
an  inquiry  as  to  the  state  of  the  poor  about  llurstlcy,  and  she 
made  the  inquiry  in  a  tone  of  commiseration. 

"Oh  !  Ave  do  pretty  well,"  said  Mr.  Penruddock. 

"But  how  can  a  family  live  on  ten  or  tAA'clA'o  shillings  a 
week  ?  "  murmured  Mrs.  Neuchatel. 

'*  There  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Penruddock.  "  A  family  has  more 
than  that.  With  a  family  the  income  proportionately  in- 
creases." 


138 


EXDYMIOX. 


Mrs.  Neucliatel  sighed.  "I  must  say,"  she  said,  *'I  cau 
not  help  feeling  there  is  something  wrong  in  our  present  ar- 
rangements. When  I  sit  down  to  dinner  every  day,  Avith  all 
these  dishes,  and  remember  tliat  there  are  millions  who  never 
taste  meat,  I  can  not  resist  the  convicticn  that  it  would  be 
better  if  there  were  some  equal  division,  and  all  sliould  have, 
if  not  much,  at  least  something." 

"Nonsense,  Emily  ! "  said  Mr.  Neuchatel,  who  had  an  organ 
like  Fine-ear,  and  could  catrli,  when  necessary,  his  wife's  most 
mystical  revelations.  "  My  wife,  Mr.  Penruddock,  is  a  regular 
Communist.  I  hope  you  are  not,"  he  added,  with  a  smile, 
turning  to  Myra. 

'*  I  think  life  would  be  very  insipid,"  replied  Myra,  ''  if  all 
our  lots  were  the  same." 

When  the  ladies  withdrew,  Adriana  and  Myra  walked  out 
together  hand-in-liand.  Mr.  Neuchatel  rose  and  sat  next  to 
Mr.  Penruddock,  and  began  to  talk  politics.  His  reverend 
guest  could  not  conceal  his  alarm  about  the  position  of  the 
Church,  and  spoke  of  Lord  John  Russell's  appropriation  clause 
with  well-bred  horror. 

"Well,  a.  do  not  think  there  is  much  to  be  afraid  of,"  said 
Mr.  Neuchatel.  "This  is  a  liberal  age,  and  you  can  not  go 
against  it.  The  people  must  be  educated,  and  where  are  the 
funds  to  come  from  ?  We  must  all  do  something,  and  the 
Churcli  must  contribute  its  share.  You  know  I  am  a  Liberal, 
but  I  am  not  for  any  rash  courses.  I  am  not  at  all  sorry  that 
Sir  Robert  Peel  gained  so  much  at  the  last  general  election.  I 
like  parties  to  be  balanced.  I  am  quite  content  with  affairs. 
My  friends,  the  Liberals,  are  in  office,  and,  being  there,  they 
can  do  very  little.  That  is  the  state  of  things,  is  it  not,  Mel- 
chior?"  he  ""ded,  with  a  smile  to  his  nephew,  who  was  an 
M.  P.  "A  balanced  state  of  parties,  and  the  house  of  Ncuchatel 
Avitli  three  votes — that  will  do.  We  poor  city-men  get  a  little 
attention  paid  to  us  now,  but  before  the  dissolution  three  votes 
went  for  nothing.  Now,  shall  avc  go  and  ask  my  daughter  to 
give  us  a  song  ?  " 

Mrs.  Neuchatel  accompanied  her  daughter  on  the  piano, 
and  after  a  time  not  merely  on  the  instrument.     The  organ 


[  cun 
it  tir- 
:h  all 
never 
Id  be 
have, 


organ 
5  most 
cgular 
smile, 


'Mf  all 

Bd  out 

text  to 

verend 

of  the 

clause 

.,"  said 
not  go 
ire  the 
id  the 
liberal, 
I'y  that 
ion.     I 
affairs, 
they 
;,  Mel- 
'as  an 
Lchatel 
little 
votes 
liter  to 

Ipiano, 
organ 


'„ 
- 


MUTUAL  SATISFACTIOX. 


139 


of  both  was  fine  and  richly  cultivated.  It  was  choice  cliani- 
bcr  music.  Mr.  Neuchatel  seated  himself  by  Myra.  Ilis  tone 
was  more  than  kind,  and  his  manner  gentle.  "It  is  a  little 
awkward  the  first  day,"  he  said,  ''among  strangers,  but  that 
will  wear  off.  You  must  bring  your  mind  to  feel  that  this  is 
your  home,  and  we  shall  all  of  us  do  everything  in  our  power 
to  convince  you  of  it.  Mr.  Penruddock  mentioned  to  me  your 
wish,  under  jiresent  circumstances,  to  enter  as  little  as  possible 
into  society,  and  this  is  a  very  social  home.  Your  feeling  is 
natural,  and  you  will  be  in  tliis  matter  entirely  your  own  mis- 
tress. We  shall  always  be  glad  to  see  you,  but  if  you  are  not 
present  we  shall  know  and  respect  the  cause.  For  my  own 
part,  I  am  one  of  those  who  would  rather  cherish  affection 
than  indulge  grief,  but  every  one  must  follow  their  mood.  I 
hear  you  have  a  brother,  to  whom  you  are  much  attached  ;  a 
twin,  too,  and  they  tell  me,  strongly  resembling  you.  He  is  in 
a  public  office,  I  believe  ?  Now,  understand  this  ;  your  brother 
can  come  here  whenever  he  likes  without  any  further  invita- 
tion. Ask  him  whenever  you  please.  We  shall  always  be  glad 
to  see  him.     No  sort  of  notice  is  necessary.     This  is  not  a  very 


small  house,  and  we  can  always 
cutlet  for  a  friend." 


manage  to  find 


a  bed  and  a 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

NoTiiiXG  could  be  more  successful  than  the  connection 
formed  between  the  Neuchatel  family  and  Myra  Ferrars.  Both 
pa'-ties  to  the  compact  were  alike  satisfied.  Myra  had  "got 
out  oi  that  hole  "  Avhich  she  always  hated,  and  though  the  new 
life  she  had  entered  was  not  exactly  the  one  she  had  mused 
over,  and  which  was  founded  on  the  tradition  of  her  early  ex- 
perience, it  was  a  life  of  energy  and  excitement,  of  splendor 
and  power,  with  a  total  absence  of  petty  vexations  and  miser- 
ies, affording  neither  time  nor  cause  for  the  wearing  chagrin 
of  a  monotonous  and  mediocre  existence.  But  the  crowning 
joy  of  lier  emancipation  was  the  prospect  it  offered  of  frequent 
enjoyment  of  the  society  of  her  brother. 


140 


ENDYMIOK 


"With  regard  to  the  Ncuchatels,  they  found  in  ^Myra  every- 
thing they  could  desire.  Mrs.  Neucluitel  was  delighted  with  ii 
companion  wlio  was  not  the  daughter  of  a  hanker,  and  whoso 
schooled  intellect  not  only  comprehended  all  her  doctrines, 
however  ahstruso  or  fanciful,  but  who  did  not  hesitate,  if  ne- 
cessary, to  controvert  or  even  confute  them.  As  for  Adriana, 
she  literally  idolized  a  friend  Avhose  proud  spirit  and  clear  intel- 
ligence were  calculated  to  exercise  a  strong  hut  salutary  influ- 
ence over  lier  timid  and  sensitive  nature.  As  for  the  great 
hanker  himself,  Avho  really  had  that  faculty  of  reading  charac- 
ter which  his  wife  flattered  herself  she  possessed,  he  had  made 
up  his  mind  about  Myra  from  the  first,  both  from  her  corre- 
spondence and  her  conversation.  "She  has  more  common 
sense  than  any  woman  I  ever  kncAV,  and  more,"  he  would  add, 
*'than  most  men.  If  she  were  not  so  handsome,  people  would 
find  it  out ;  but  they  can  not  understand  that  so  beautiful  a 
woman  can  have  a  headpiece,  that,  I  really  believe,  could  man- 
age the  affairs  in  Bishopsgate  Street." 

In  the  mean  time  life  at  Ilainault  resumed  its  usual  course  ; 
streams  of  guests,  of  all  parties,  colors,  and  classes,  and  even 
nations.  Sometimes  Mr.  Ncuchatcl  would  say,  "I  really  must 
have  a  quiet  day  that  ]\Iiss  Ferrars  may  dine  with  us,  and  she 
shall  ask  her  brother.  How  glad  I  shall  be  when  she  goes  into 
half-mourning;  I  scarcely  catch  a  glimpse  of  her."  And  all 
this  time  his  wife  and  daughter  did  nothing  but  quote  her, 
which  Avas  still  more  irritating,  for,  as  he  woulu  say,  half- 
grumbling  and  half-smiling,  "If  it  had  not  been  for  me,  she 
would  not  have  been  here." 

At  first  Adriana  would  not  dine  at  table  Avithout  Myra,  and 
insisted  on  sharing  her  imprisonment.  "  It  does  not  look  like 
a  cell,"  said  Myra,  surveying  not  without  complacency  her 
beautiful  little  chamber  beautifully  lit,  with  its  silken  hang- 
ings and  carved  ceiling  and  bright  with  books  and  pictures  ; 
"  besides,  there  is  no  reason  why  you  should  be  a  prisoner. 
You  have  not  lost  a  father,  and  I  hope  never  will." 

"Amen  !"  said  Adriana.  "That  Avould  indeed  be  the  un- 
happiest  day  of  my  life." 

"  You  can  not  be  in  society  too  much  in  the  latter  part  of  the 


"Sh 


inc,  she 


\yi\,  [ind 
)k  like 

|cy  licr 

liaiig- 

jtui'cs  ; 

jisoncr. 

|he  un- 
,  of  the 


A   SOCIAL   liECLUSE. 


141 


duy,"  siiid  Myra.  *'  The  mornings  should  be  sacred  to  ourselve.s, 
but  for  the  rest  of  tlie  hours  people  are  to  see  and  to  be  seen, 
and,"  she  added,  ''to  like  and  to  be  liked."  Adriana  shook 
her  head  ;  "^  I  do  not  wish  any  one  to  like  me  but  you." 

"I  am  sure  I  shall  always  like  you,  and  love  you,"  said 
Myra,  "but  I  am  equally  sure  that  a  great  many  other  people 
will  do  the  same." 

'"It  will  not  be  myself  that  they  like  or  love," said  Adriana 
with  a  sigh. 

*'Xow,  spare  me  that  vein,  dear  Adriana;  you  know  I  do 
not  like  it.  It  is  not  agreeable,  and  I  do  not  think  it  is  true. 
I  believe  that  women  are  loved  much  more  for  themselves 
than  is  supposed.  Besides,  a  woman  should  be  content  if  she 
is  loved  ;  that  is  the  point ;  and  she  is  not  to  inquire  how  far 
the  accidents  of  life  have  contributed  to  the  result.  Wliy 
should  you  not  be  loved  for  yourself  ?  You  have  an  interest- 
ing appearance.  I  think  you  very  pretty.  You  have  choice 
accomplishments  and  agreeable  conversation  and  the  sweetest 
temper  in  the  world.  You  want  a  little  self-contcit,  my  dear. 
If  I  were  you  and  admired  I  should  never  think  of  my  fortune." 

"  If  you  were  the  grciitest  heiress  in  the  world,  Myra,  and 
were  married,  nobody  would  suppose  for  a  moment  that  it  was 
for  your  fortune." 

"Go  down  to  dinner  and  smile  upon  everybody,  and  tell 
me  about  your  conquests  to-morrow.  And  say  to  your  dear 
papa,  that  as  he  is  so  kind  as  to  wish  to  sec  me,  I  will  join 
them  after  dinner." 

And  so,  for  the  first  two  months,  she  occasionally  appeared 
in  the  evening,  especially  when  there  was  no  formal  party. 
Endymion  came  and  visited  her  every  Sunday,  but  he  was  also 
a  social  recluse,  and  though  he  had  been  presented  to  Mrs.  Xeu- 
cliatcl  and  her  daughter,  and  had  been  most  cordially  received 
by  them,  it  was  some  considerable  time  before  he  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  the  great  banker. 

About  September  Myra  may  be  said  to  have  formally  joined 
the  circle  at  Hainault.  Three  months  had  elapsed  since  the 
terrible  event,  and  she  felt,  irrespective  of  other  considerations, 
her  position  hardly  justified  her,  notwithstanding  all  the  in- 


U2 


ENDYMION. 


<lalgent  kindness  of  the  family,  in  continuing  a  coi'.rse  of  life 
which  she  was  conscious  to  them  was  sometimes  an  inconvenience 
and  always  a  disappointment.  It  was  impossible  to  deny  that 
she  was  interested  and  amused  by  the  world  which  she  now 
witnessed — so  energetic,  so  restless,  so  various ;  so  full  of  ur- 
gent and  pressing  life ;  never  thinking  of  the  past  and  quite 
heedless  of  the  future,  but  worshiping  an  almighty  present  that 
sometimes  seemed  to  roll  on  like  the  car  of  Juggernaut.  She 
was  much  diverted  by  the  gentlemen  of  the  Stock  Exchange, 
so  acute,  so  audacious,  and  differing  so  much  from  the  mer- 
chants in  the  style  even  of  their  dress,  and  in  the  ease,  per- 
haps the  too  great  facility,  of  their  bearing.  They  called  each 
other  by  their  Christian  names,  and  there  were  allusions  to 
practical  jokes  which  intimated  a  life  something  between  a 
public  school  and  a  garrison.  On  more  solemn  days  there  were 
diplomatists  pud  men  in  political  office  ;  sometimes  great  mu- 
sical artists,  and  occasionally  a  French  actor.  But  the  dinners 
were  always  the  same  ;  dishes  worthy  of  the  great  days  of  the 
Bourbons,  and  wines  of  rarity  and  price,  which  could  not  ruin 
Neuchatel,  for  in  many  instances  the  vineyards  belonged  to 
himself. 

One  morning  at  breakfast,  when  he  rarely  encountered  them, 
but  it  was  a  holiday  in  the  city,  Mr.  Neuchatel  said,  "There 
are  a  few  gentlemen  coming  to  dine  here  to-day  whom  you 
know,  with  one  exception.  He  is  a  young  man,  a  very  nice 
young  fellow.  I  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  him  of  late  on  busi- 
ness in  the  city,  and  have  taken  a  fancy  to  him.  lie  is  a  for- 
eigner, but  he  was  partly  educated  in  this  country  and  speaks 
English  as  well  as  any  of  us." 

"Then  I  suppose  he  is  not  a  Frenchman,"  said  Mrs.  Neu- 
chatel,  "for  they  never  speak  English." 

"  I  shall  not  say  what  he  is.  You  must  all  find  out ;  I 
dare  say  Miss  Ferrars  will  discover  him  ;  but,  remember,  you 
must  all  of  you  pay  him  great  attention,  for  he  is  not  a  com- 
mon person,  I  can  assure  you." 

"You  are  mysterious,  Adrian,"  said  his  wife,  "and  quite 
pique  our  curiosity." 

"  Well,  I  wish  somebody  would  pique  mine,"  said  the  bank- 


1^ 


Neu- 


)iit ;  I 
.,  you 
com- 


quite 
Ibank- 


COLONEL  ALBERT  ARRIVES. 


143 


cr.  *^  These  holidays  in  the  city  are  terrible  tilings.  I  think 
I  will  go  after  breakfast  and  look  at  the  new  house,  and  I  dare 
eay  Miss  Ferrars  will  bo  kind  enough  to  be  my  companion." 

Several  of  the  visitors,  fortunately  for  the  banker  whoso 
time  hung  rather  heavily  on  his  hands,  arrived  an  hour  ov  so 
before  dinner,  that  they  might  air  themselves  in  the  famous 
gardens  and  see  some  of  the  new  plants.  But  the  guest  whom 
he  most  wished  to  greet,  and  whom  the  ladies  WTro  most  curi- 
ous to  welcome,  did  not  arrive.  They  had  all  entered  the 
house  and  the  critical  moment  was  at  hand,  when  just  as  din- 
ner was  about  to  be  announced,  the  servants  ushered  in  a 
young  man  of  distinguished  appearance,  and  the  banker  ex- 
claimed, *'You  have  arrived  just  in  time  to  take  Mrs.  Neu- 
chatel  in  to  dinner,"  and  he  presented  to  her — Colonel  Al- 
bert. 


CHAPTER  XXXIIT. 

The  ladies  were  much  interested  by  Colonel  Albert.  Mrs. 
Neuchatel  exercised  on  him  all  the  unrivaled  arts  by  which  she 
so  unmistakably  discovered  character.  She  threw  on  him  her 
brown  velvet  eyes  with  a  subdued  yet  piercing  beam,  which 
would  penetrate  his  most  secret  and  even  undeveloped  intelli- 
gence. She  asked  questions  in  a  hushed  mystical  voice,  and 
as  the  colonel  was  rather  silent  and  somewhat  short  in  his 
replies,  though  ever  expressed  in  a  voice  of  sensibility  and  with 
refined  deference  of  manner,  Mrs.  Neuchatel  opened  her  own 
peculiar  views  on  a  variety  of  subjects  of  august  interest,  such 
as  education,  high  art,  the  influence  of  woman  in  society,  the 
formation  of  character,  and  the  distribution  of  wealth,  on  all 
of  which  thi^  highly  gifted  lady  was  always  in  the  habit  of 
informing  her  audience  by  way  of  accompaniment,  that  she 
was  conscious  that  the  views  she  entertained  were  peculiar. 
The  views  of  Mrs.  Neuchatel  were  peculiar,  and  therefore  not 
always,  or  even  easily,  comprehended.  That  indeed  she  felt 
was  rather  her  fate  in  life,  but  a  superior  intelligence  like  hers 
has  a  degree  of  sublimated  self-respect  which  defies  destiny. 


U4: 


EXDYMIOy. 


"When  slio  was  alone  with  tlio  ladk-s,  tlio  bulletin  of  Mrs. 
Nciicluitc'l  was  not  so  copious  as  liad  been  cx})cctetl.  She 
announced  tliyt  Colonel  Albert  was  sentimental,  and  she  sus- 
pected a  poet.  But  for  the  rest  she  had  discovered  nothing, 
not  even  his  natiorjility.  She  had  tried  him  both  in  French 
and  German,  but  he  persisted  in  talking  English,  although  ho 
spoke  of  himself  as  a  foreigner.  After  dinner  he  conversed 
chiefly  with  the  men,  particularly  Avith  the  Governor  of  the 
Bank,  who  seemed  to  interest  him  much,  and  a  director  of  one 
of  the  dock  companies,  who  offered  to  show  him  over  their 
establishment,  an  offer  which  Colonel  Albert  eagerly  accepted. 
Then,  as  if  he  remembered  that  homage  Avas  due  at  such  a 
moment  to  the  fairer  sex,  he  went  and  seated  himself  by  Adri- 
ana,  and  was  playful  and  agreeable,  though  when  she  was  cross- 
examined  afterward  by  her  friends  as  to  the  character  of  his 
conversation,  she  really  could  not  recall  anyth'^^g  particular 
except  that  he  was  fond  of  horses,  and  said  tha  should  like 
very  much  to  take  a  ride  with  her.  Just  befuic  ne  took  his 
departure,  Colonel  Albert  addressed  Myra,  and  in  a  rather 
strange  manner.  He  said,  "  I  have  been  puzzling  myself  all 
dinner,  but  I  can  not  help  feeling  that  we  have  met  before." 

Myra  shook  her  head  and  said,  *'  I  think  that  is  impos- 
sible." 

''Well,"  said  the  Colonel  with  a  look  a  little  perplexed  and 
not  altogether  satisfied,  "  I  suppose  then  it  was  a  dream.  May 
dreams  so  delightful,"  and  he  bowed,  ''never  be  wanting." 

"  So  you  think  he  is  a  poet,  Emily,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel 
when  they  had  all  gone.  ""We  have  got  a  good  many  of  his 
papers  in  Bishopsgatc  Street,  but  I  have  not  met  with  any 
verses  in  them  yet." 

The  visit  of  Colonel  Albert  was  soon  repeated,  and  he  be- 
came a  rather  frequent  guest  at  Ilainault.  It  was  evident  that 
he  was  a  favorite  with  Mr.  Neuchatel.  "  He  knows  very  few 
people,"  he  would  say,  "  and  I  wish  him  to  make  some  friends. 
Poor  young  fellow  !  he  has  had  rather  a  hard  life  of  it,  and 
seen  some  service  for  such  a  youth.  He  is  a  perfect  gentleman, 
and  if  he  be  a  poet,  Emily,  that  is  all  in  your  way.  You  like 
literary  people,  and  are  always  begging  that  I  should  ask  them. 


r 


:'i 


:  Mrs. 
Sho 
,e  sus- 
tliing, 
.^'rcnch 
igli  ho 
lYcrscd 
of  tho 
of  one 
r  their 
ccptcd. 
such  a 
y  Adri- 
.s  cross- 
•  of  his 
rticuhir 
aid  like 
ook  his 
I  rather 
^-sclf  all 
ore. 
impos- 


c 


cd  and 
.    May 


1<T. 


luchatel 

of  his 

[til  any 

he  he- 
Int  that 
3ry  few 
[riends. 
lit,  and 
Jleman, 

)u  like 
them. 


''OXE  OF  OUIi   GREAT   WITSr 


145 


I 


! 


"Well,  next  Saturday  you  will  have  a  sort  of  a  lion — one  of  tho 
])rincii)al  writers  in  'Scaramouch.'  He  i?<  going  to  Paris  as 
the  foreign  correspondent  of  tho  'Chuck-Farthing'  with  a 
thousand  a  year,  and  one  of  my  friends  in  the  Stock  Exchange, 
who  is  his  great  ally,  asked  me  to  give  him  some  letters.  S  . 
he  came  to  Bishopsgato  Street — they  all  come  to  Bishopsgato 
Street — and  I  asked  him  to  dine  here  on  Saturday.  By  tho 
by,  Miss  Ferrars,  ask  your  brother  to  come  on  tho  same  day 
and  stay  with  us  till  Monday.  I  will  take  him  up  to  town 
with  me  quite  in  time  for  his  office." 

This  was  the  first  time  that  F]ndymion  had  remained  at 
Ilainault.  He  looked  forward  to  the  visit  with  anticipations 
of  great  pleasure.  Ilainault,  and  all  tho  people  there,  and 
everything  about  it  delighted  him,  and  most  of  all  the  happi- 
ness of  his  sister  and  tl.o  consideration,  and  generosity,  and 
delicate  affection  with  which  she  was  treated.  One  morning, 
to  his  astonishment,  Myra  had  insisted  upon  his  accepting 
from  her  no  inconsiderable  sum  of  money.  *'  It  is  no  part  of 
my  salary,"  she  said,  when  lio  talked  of  her  necessities.  "  Mr. 
Neuchatel  said  he  gave  it  to  mo  for  outfit  and  to  buy  gloves. 
But  being  in  mourning  I  want  to  buy  nothing,  and  you,  dear 
darling,  must  have  many  wants.  Besides,  Mrs.  Neuchatel  lias 
made  mo  so  many  presents  that  I  really  do  not  think  that  I 
shall  ever  want  to  buy  anything  again." 

It  was  rather  a  grand  party  at  Ilainault,  such  as  Endymion 
had  little  experience  of.  There  was  a  cabinet  minister  and  his 
wife,  not  only  an  ambassador,  but  an  ambassadress  who  had 
been  asked  to  meet  them,  a  nephew  Neuchatel,  the  M.  P.  with 
a  pretty  young  wife,  and  several  apparently  single  gentlemen  of 
note  and  position.  Endymion  was  nervous  when  he  entered, 
and  more  so  because  Myra  was  not  in  the  room.  But  his  tre['i- 
dation  was  absorbed  in  his  amazement  when  in  the  distance  ho 
observed  St.  Barbe,  with  a  very  stiff  white  cravat,  und  his 
hair  brushed  into  unnatural  order,  and  his  whole  demeanor 
forming  a  singular  contrast  to  the  rollicking  cynicism  of  Joe's 
and  tho  office. 

Mr.  Neuchatel  jiresonted  St.  Barbe  to  tho  lady  of  tho  man- 
sion.    "Here  is  one  of  our  great  wits,"  said  tho  banker,  *'and 
V 


146 


ENDYMION. 


he  is  going  to  Paris  which  is  the  capital  of  wits."  The  critical 
momoDt  prevented  prolonged  conversation,  but  the  ludj  of  the 
mansion  did  contrive  to  convey  to  St.  Barbe  her  admiring 
familiarity  with  some  of  his  effusions,  and  threw  out  a  phrase 
which  proved  how  finely  she  could  distinguish  between  wit 
and  humor. 

Endymion  at  dinner  sat  between  two  M.  P.s,  M'hom  his 
experience  at  the  House  of  Commons  allowed  him  to  recognize. 
As  he  was  a  young  man  whom  ncitlicr  of  them  knew,  neither 
of  them  addressed  him,  but  with  delicate  breeding  carried  on 
an  active  conversation  across  him,  as  if  "n  fact  ho  vras  not 
present.  As  Endymion  had  very  little  vanity,  this  did  not  at 
all  annoy  him.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  amused,  for  they 
spoke  of  matters  with  which  he  was  not  unacquainted,  tiiough 
he  looked  as  if  he  knew  or  heard  nothing.  Their  con \'ersation 
was  what  is  called  "  shop  : "  all  about  the  House  and  office ; 
criticisms  on  speakers,  speculations  as  to  preferment,  what 
government  would  do  about  [liis,  and  hoAv  well  government 
got  out  of  that. 

Endymion  was  amused  by  seeing  Myrn,  who  was  remote 
from  him,  sitting  by  St.  Barbe,  who,  warmed  by  the  banquet, 
was  evidently  holding  forth  without  the  slightest  conception 
that  his  neighbor  whom  he  addressed  had  long  become  familiar 
with  his  characteristics. 

After  dinner,  St.  Barbe  pounced  upon  Endymion.  ''Only 
think  of  our  meeting  here  !"  he  said.  •'!  wonder  why  they 
asked  you.  You  are  not  going  to  Paris,  and  you  are  not  a 
wit.  What  a  family  this  is,"  he  said;  "1  had  no  idea  of 
wealth  before  !  Did  j'ou  observe  the  silver  plates  ?  I  couid 
not  hold  mine  with  one  hand,  it  was  so  heavy.  I  do  not  sup- 
pose there  are  such  plates  in  the  world.  It  reives  one  an  idea 
of  the  galleons  and  Anson's  plunder.  Bi;i  they  deserve  their 
wealth,"  he  added;  '' nobody  grudges  it  to  them.  I  declare 
when  I  was  eating  that  truffle,  I  felt  a  glow  about  my  heart 
that,  if  it  wTre  not  indigestion,  I  think  must  have  been  grati- 
tude ;  though  that  is  an  article  I  had  not  believed  in.  lie  is  a 
wonderful  man,  that  Neuchatel.  If  I  had  only  known  him  a 
year  ago  !    I  would  have  dedicated  my  novel  to  him.     He  is  a 


ST.  BARBE'S  OPIXJOyS. 


l^i 


;ritical 
of  the 
miring 
phrase 
211  wit 

om  his 
Dgnize. 
neither 
ried  on 
'as  not 
[  not  at 
3r  they 
tiiough 
n'sation 
.  office ; 
1,  what 
rnment 

1  remote 
anquet, 
ception 
'amiliar 

''Only 
ly  they 
e  not  a 
dca  of 

conid 
ot  sup- 
an  idea 
-c  their 
declare 

heart 

grati- 
[le  is  a 

him  a 
[le  is  a 


sort  of  man  wlio  would  liave  given  you  a  check  immediately. 
He  would  not  have  read  it  to  be  sure,  but  wliat  of  that  ?  If 
you  had  dedicated  it  to  a  lord,  the  mo>t  ho  would  have  done 
would  have  been  to  have  asked  you  to  dinner,  and  then  per- 
haps have  cut  up  your  work  in  one  of  tlio  Quality  reviews,  and 
taken  money  for  doing  it  out  of  our  pockets  I  Oh  !  it's  too 
liorrid  !  There  are  some  top-sawyers  licro  to-day,  Ferrars  !  It 
would  make  Seymour  Hicks'  moutli  water  to  bo  here.  We 
should  have  had  it  in  the  papers,  and  lie  would  Iuiac  left  us 
out  of  the  list,  and  called  us,  etc.  Now  I  dare  say  that  am- 
bassador has  been  blundering  all  his  life,  and  yet  there  is  some- 
thing in  that  star  and  ribbon ;  I  do  not  know  how  you  feel, 
but  I  could  almost  go  down  on  my  knees  to  liim.  And  there 
is  a  cabinet  minister  ;  well,  wc  know  what  he  is  ;  I  have  been 
sfpiibbing  him  for  these  two  years,  and  now  that  I  meet  him 
I  feel  like  a  snob.  Oh  !  there  is  an  immense  deal  of  supersti- 
tion left  in  the  world.  I  am  glad  they  are  going  to  the  ladies. 
I  am  to  be  honored  by  some  conversation  witli  the  mistress  of 
the  house.  She  seems  a  first-rate  woman,  familiar  Avitli  the 
glorious  pages  of  a  certain  classic  Avork,  and  my  humble  effu- 
sions. She  praised  one  she  thought  I  wrote,  but  between 
ourselves  it  was  written  by  t  at  fellow  Seymour  Ilicks,  who 
imitates  mo  ;  but  I  would  not  put  her  right,  as  dinner  might 
h.ave  been  announced  every  moment.  But  she  is  a  great  wo- 
man, sir — wonderful  eyes  !  They  are  all  great  women  here. 
I  sat  next  to  one  of  the  daughters,  or  daughters-in-law,  or 
nieces,  I  suppose.  By  Jove  !  it  was  tierce  and  cpiart.  If  you 
iiad  been  there,  you  Avould  have  been  run  througli  in  a  mo- 
ment. I  had  to  show  my  art.  Now  tliey  arc  rising.  I  should 
not  be  surprised  if  Mr.  Neuchatel  were  to  present  me  to  some 
of  the  grandees.  I  believe  them  to  be  all  impostors,  but  still 
it  is  pleasant  to  talk  to  a  man  Avith  a  star. 

'Ye  stars  wliich  are  the  poetry  of  lieaveu,' 

Byron  wrote  ;  a  silly  line  ;  he  should  liave  written, 

'Ye  stars  which  are  the  poctry  of  dress.' '' 


148  EXDYMIOy. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

St.  Barre  was  not  disappointed  in  liis  liopcs.  It  was  an 
evening  of  glorious  success  for  liim.  lie  had  even  the  honor 
of  sitting  for  a  time  by  the  side  of  Mrs.  Neuchatel,  and,  being 
full  of  good  claret,  he,  as  he  phrased  it,  showed  his  paces  ;  that 
is  to  say,  delivered  himself  of  some  sarcastic  paradoxes  duly 
blended  with  fulsome  flattery.  Later  in  the  evening,  he  con- 
trived to  be  presented  both  to  the  ambassador  and  the  cabinet 
minister,  and  treated  them  as  if  they  were  demigods  ;  listened 
to  them  as  if  with  an  admiration  which  he  vainly  endeavored 
to  repress ;  never  sjioke  except  to  enforce  and  illustrate  the 
views  which  they  had  condescended  to  intimate  ;  successfully 
conveyed  to  his  excellency  tliut  he  was  conversing  with  an  en- 
thusiast for  his  exalted  profession  ;  and  to  the  minister  that  ho 
had  met  an  ardent  sympathizer  with  his  noble  career.  The 
ambassador  was  not  dissatisiied  Avitli  the  impression  he  had 
made  on  one  of  the  foreign  correspondents  of  the  ''Chuck- 
Farthing,"  and  the  minister  flattered  himself  that  both  the 
literary  and  the  graphic  representations  of  himself  in  "Scara- 
mouch" might  possibly  for  tlie  future  be  mitigated. 

"I  have  done  business  to-night,"  said  St.  Barbe  to  Endym- 
ion  toward  the  close  of  the  evening.  ''  You  did  not  know  I 
had  left  the  old  shop  ?  I  kept  it  close.  I  could  stand  it  no 
longer.  One  has  energies,  sir,  though  not  recognized — at  least 
not  recognized  much,"  he  added  thoughtfully.  *'  But  who 
knows  what  may  happen  ?  The  age  of  mediocrity  is  not  eter- 
nal. You  see  this  thing  offered,  and  I  saw  an  opening.  It  has 
come  already.  You  saw  the  big  wigs  all  talking  to  me  ?  I 
shall  go  to  Paris  now  with  some  eclat.  I  shall  invent  a  new 
profession  ;  the  literary  diplomatist.  The  bore  is,  I  know  no- 
thing about  foreign  politics.  My  line  has  been  the  other  way. 
Never  mind ;  I  will  read  the  '  Debats '  and  the  '  Revue  do 
Deux  Mondes,'  and  laake  out  something.  Foreign  affairs  are 
all  the  future,  and  my  vicAvs  may  be  as  right  as  anybody  else's  ; 
probably  more  correct,  not  so  conventional.  What  a  fool  I  was, 
Ferrars  !     I  was  asked  to  remain  here  to-night  and  refused  ) 


11 


A   PLEA  SAM'    WALIC. 


14i) 


.dym- 

InoAV  I 

it  iia 

least 

wlio 

eter- 

t  has 

?    I 

new 

no- 
way, 
e  do 

are 
Ise's ; 
was, 
Isccl  r 


Tlic  truth  \fi,  I  could  not  stand  ilio.se  powdered  gentlemen,  and 
I  should  have  been  under  their  care.  They  seem  so  haughty 
and  supercilious.  And  yet  I  was  wrong.  I  spoke  to  one  of 
them  very  rudely  just  now,  when  he  was  handing  coffee,  to 
irhow  I  was  not  afraid,  and  he  answered  me  like  a  seraph.  I 
felt  remorse." 

"Well,  I  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  St.  Barl)e," 
f^aid  Myra  to  Endymion.  *'Stran,r/e  as  lie  is,  he  seemed  ([uito 
familiar  to  me,  and  he  was  so  f i  II  of  liim^-elf  that  he  never 
found  me  out.  I  hope  some  day  to  know  Mr.  Trench  a  rd 
and  Mr.  "Waldcrshare.  Those  I  look  upon  as  your  chief 
friends." 

On  the  following  afternoon,  Adriana,  Myra,  and  Endymion 
took  a  long  walk  together  in  the  forest.  The  green  glades  in 
the  autumnal  woods  were  inviting,  and  some  times  they  stood 
before  the  vast  form  of  some  doddered  oak.  The  air  was  fresh 
and  the  sun  was  bright.  Adriana  was  always  gay  and  happy 
in  the  company  of  her  adored  Myra,  and  her  happiness  and  her 
gayety  Averc  not  diminished  l)y  the  presence  of  Myra's  brother. 
So  it  was  a  lively  and  pleasant  Avalk. 

At  the  end  of  a  long  glade  they  observed  a  horseman  fol- 
lowed by  a  groom  approaching  them.  Endymion  Avas  some 
little  Avay  behinel,  gathering  Avild  lloAVcrs  for  Adriana.  Canter- 
ing along,  the  cavalier  soon  reached  them,  and  then  he  suddenly 
pulled  up  his  horse.     It  Avas  Colonel  Albert.  "^ 

"You  are  AA'alking,  ladies  ?  Permit  me  to  join  you,"  and 
he  Avas  by  their  side.  "  I  delight  in  forests  and  in  green  alleys," 
said  Colonel  Albert.  "Tavo  Avandering  nymphs  make  the 
scene  perfect." 

"AVe  are  not  alone,"  said  Adriana,  "but  our  guardian  is 
picking  some  Avild  flowers  for  us,  Avhicli  avo  fancied.  I  think 
it  is  time  to  return.  You  are  going  to  Ilainault,  I  believe, 
Colonel  Albert,  so  we  can  all  Avalk  home  together." 

So  they  turned,  and  Endymion  Avitli  his  graceful  offering 
in  a  moment  met  them.  Full  of  his  successful  quest,  he  offered 
Avith  eager  triumph  the  floAvers  to  Adriana,  Avithout  casting  a 
glance  at  her  ncAV  companion. 

"  Beautiful !"  exclaimed  Adriana,  and  she  stopped  to  ad- 


150 


ENDYMWX. 


mire  and  arrange  them.  "Sec,  dear  Myra,  is  not  this  lovely  ? 
How  superior  to  anything  in  our  glass-houses." 

Myr.'i  took  the  iicwer  and  examined  it.  Colonel  Albert, 
who  ^vas  silent,  was  watching  all  this  time  Endymion  with  in- 
tentncss,  who  now  looked  up  and  encountered  the  gaze  of  the 
new  comer.  Their  eyes  met,  their  countenances  were  agitated, 
they  seemed  perplexed,  and  then  it  seemed  that  at  the  same 
time  both  extended  their  hands. 

"It  is  a  long  time  since  we  met,"  said  Colonel  Albert,  and 
he  retained  the  hand  of  Endymion  with  affection.  But  Endym- 
ion, Avho  Avas  apparently  much  moved,  said  nothing,  or  rather, 
only  murmured  an  echo  to  the  remarks  of  his  new  friend.  And 
then  they  all  walked  on,  but  Myra  fell  a  little  back  and  made 
a  signal  to  Endymion  to  join  her. 

"  You  never  told  me,  darling,  that  you  knew  Colonel  Al- 
bert." 

"Colonel  Albert  I  "said  Endymion,  looking  amazed,  and 
then  he  added,  "Who  is  Colonel  Albert  ?  " 

"That  gentleman  before  us,"  said  Myra. 

"  That  is  the  Count  oi  Otranto,  whose  fag  I  was  at  Eton." 

"  The  Count  of  Otranto  ! " 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

CoLOXEL  Albert  from  this  day  became  an  object  of  in- 
creased and  deeper  interest  to  Myra.  His  appearance  and 
manners  had  always  been  attractive,  and  the  mystery  connected 
with  him  was  not  calculated  to  diminish  curiosity  in  his  con- 
duct or  fate.  But  wlicn  she  discovered  that  he  was  the  unseen 
hero  of  her  childhood,  the  being  who  had  been  kind  to  her 
Endymion  in  what  she  had  ever  considered  the  severest  trial 
of  her  brother's  life,  had  been  his  protector  from  those  who 
would  have  oppressed  him  and  had  cherished  him  in  the  deso- 
late hour  of  his  delicate  and  tender  boyhood,  her  heart  was 
disturbed.  How  often  had  they  talked  together  of  the  Count 
of  Otranto,  and  how  often  had  they  wondered  who  ho  was  I 


A   MYSTERIOUS  PERSONAGE. 


151 


His  memory  had  been  a  delightful  mystery  to  them  in  their 
Berkshire  solitude,  and  Myra  recalled  witli  a  secret  smile  tho 
numberless  and  ingenious  inquiries  by  which  she  had  endeav- 
ored to  elicit  from  her  brother  some  clew  as  to  his  friend,  or 
to  discover  some  detail  which  might  guide  her  to  a  conclusion. 
Endymion  had  known  nothing,  and  was  clear  always  that  the 
Count  of  Otranto  must  have  been,  and  was,  an  English  boy. 
And  now  the  Count  of  Otranto  called  himself  Colonel  Albert, 
and  though  he  persisted  in  speaking  English,  had  admitted  to 
Mrs.  Neuchatel  that  he  was  a  foreigner. 

"Who  was  he  ?  She  resolved,  when  she  had  an  opportunity, 
to  speak  to  the  great  banker  on  the  subject. 

'•'Do  you  know,  Mr.  Neuchatel,"  she  said,  "that  Endym- 
ion, my  brother,  was  at  school  with  Colonel  Albert  ?  " 

"Ah,  ah  !"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel. 

'•'But  when  he  was  at  school  he  had  another  name,"  said 
Myra. 

"  Oh,  oh  ! "  said  Mr.  Xeucluitel. 

'•'He  was  then  called  the  Count  of  Otranto." 

"  That  is  a  very  pretty  name,''  said  ^Nlr.  Neuchatel. 

'•'  But  why  did  he  cluinge  it  ?  "  asked  Myra. 

'•The  great  world  often  change  their  names,"  said  Mr. 
Neuchatcl.  "It  is  only  poor  city-men  like  myself  who  are 
always  called  Mr.,  and  bear  tlie  same  name  as  their  fathers." 

"  But  when  a  person  is  called  a  count  when  he  is  a  boy,  he 
is  seldom  called  only  a  colonel  when  he  is  a  man,"  said  Myra. 
"  There  is  a  great  mystery  in  all  this." 

"I  should  not  be  surprised,"  said  Mr.  Ncuchatel,  "if  he 
were  to  change  his  name  again  before  this  time  next  year." 

"Why? "asked  Myra. 

"Well,  when  I  have  read  all  his  papers  in  Bishopsgatc 
Street  perhaps  I  shall  be  able  to  tell  you,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel, 
and  Myra  felt  that  she  could  pursue  the  theme  no  further. 

She  expected  that  Endymion  would  in  time  be  able  to  ob- 
tain this  information,  but  it  was  not  so.  In  their  first  private 
conversation  after  their  meeting  in  the  forest,  Endymion  had 
informed  Colonel  Albert  that,  though  they  had  met  now  for 
the  first  time  since  his  return,  they  had  been  for  some  time 


152 


ENDYMI02T. 


lodgers  in  London  under  the  same  roof.  Colonel  Albert  smiled 
when  Endymion  told  him  this  ;  then  fiillirg  into  thought,  ho 
said  :  *'I  hope  we  n  ay  often  meet,  but  for  the  moment  it  may 
be  as  well  that  the  past  should  be  known  only  to  ourselves.  I 
wish  my  life  for  the  present  to  be  as  private  as  I  can  arrange  it. 
There  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not  be  sometimes  together — 
that  is,  when  you  have  leisure.  J  liad  the  pleasure  of  making 
your  acquaintance  at  my  banker's. " 

Parliament  had  been  dissolved  through  the  demise  of  the 
crown  in  the  summer  of  this  year  (183'^  \  and  London  society 
had  been  prematurely  broken  up.  '\\'aldcrshare  had  left  town 
early  in  July  to  secure  his  election,  in  which  he  was  successful, 
with  no  intention  of  settling  again  in  his  old  haunts  till  the 
meeting  of  the  new  House  of  Commons,  which  was  to  be  in 
^November.  The  Rodneys  were  away  at  some  Kentish  watering- 
place  during  August  and  September,  exhibiting  to  an  admiring 
world  their  exquisitely  made  dresses,  and  enjoying  themselves 
amazingly  at  balls  and  assemblies  at  the  i")ublic  rooms.  The 
resources  of  private  society  also  were  not  closed  to  them.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Gamme  were  also  there  and  gave  immense  dinners, 
and  the  airy  Mrs.  Ilooghley,  who  laughed  a  little  at  the 
CJammes'  substantial  gatherings  and  herself  improvised  charm- 
ing picnics.  So  there  was  really  little  embarrassment  in  the 
social  relations  between  Colonel  Albert  and  Endymion.  They 
resolved  themselves  chiefly  into  arranging  joint  expeditions  to 
Ilainault.  Endymion  had  a  perpetual  invitation  there,  and  it 
seemed  that  the  transactions  between  Mr.  Neuchatel  and  the 
colonel  required  much  conference,  for  the  banker  always  ex- 
pected him,  although  it  was  well  known  that  they  met  not 
unfrequently  in  Bishopsgate  Street  in  the  course  of  the  week. 
Colonel  Albert  and  Endymion  always  staid  at  ILainault  from 
Saturday  till  Monday.  It  delighted  the  colonel  to  mount  En- 
dymion on  one  of  his  choice  steeds,  and  his  former  fag  enjoyed 
all  this  amazingly. 

Colonel  Albert  became  domiciled  at  Ilainault.  The  rooms 
which  were  occupied  by  him  when  there  were  always  reserved 
for  him.  He  had  a  general  invitation,  and  might  leave  his 
luggage  and  books  and  papers  behind  him.     It  was  evident  that 


^> 


■li! 


COLONEL  ALBERTS  CIIAMPIOX. 


153 


t> 


the  family  pleased  him.  Between  Mr.  Xeucliatel  and  himself 
there  were  obviously  affairs  of  great  interest ;  but  it  was  equally 
clear  that  he  liked  the  female  members  of  the  family — all  of 
them  ;  ami  all  liked  him.  And  yet  it  can  not  be  said  that  he 
was  entertaining,  but  there  are  some  silent  i)eoplc  who  are  more 
interesting  than  the  best  talkers.  And  when  he  did  sjicak  he 
always  said  the  right  thing.  His  manners  wer.  tender  and 
gentle  ;  he  had  an  unobtrusive  sympathy  witli  all  ilicy  said  or 
did,  except,  indeed,  and  that  was  not  rarely,  when  he  was  lost 
in  profound  abstraction. 

''I  delight  in  your  friend  tlie  colonel,  Adrian,"  said  Mrs. 
Neuchatel,  *'but  I  must  say  he  is  very  absent." 

*'  He  has  a  good  deal  to  think  about,"  said  Mr.  Neuchate'. 

*'I  wonder  what  it  can  be,"  thought  Mjra. 

**  He  has  a  claim  to  a  great  estate,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel, 
*'and  he  has  to  think  of  the  best  mode  of  establishing  it ;  and 
he  has  been  deprived  of  great  honors,  and  he  believes  unjustly, 
and  he  wishes  to  regain  them." 

''Xo  wonder,  then,  he  is  absent,"  said  Mrs.  Neuchatel. 
**  If  he  only  knew  what  a  burden  great  wealth  was,  I  am  sure 
he  would  not  wish  to  posses*,  it,  and  as  for  honors  I  never  could 
make  out  Avhy  having  a  iitl-i  or  a  ribbon  could  make  any  differ- 
ence in  a  human  bein:(." 

*'  Nonsense,  my  dear  Emih',"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel.  "  Great 
wealth  is  a  great  blessing  to  a  man  who  knows  what  to  do  with 
it,  and  as  for  honors,  they  are  inestimable  to  the  honorable." 

''Well,  I  ardently  hope  Colonel  Albert  may  succeed,"  said 
Myra,  ''because  he  was  so  kind  to  my  brother  at  Eton.  He 
must  have  a  good  heart." 

"They  say  he  is  the  most  unscrupulous  of  living  men,"  said 
Mr.  Neuchatel,  with  his  peculiar  smile. 

"  Good  heavens  !"  exclaimed  Mr^  Neuchatel. 

'•'  How  terrible  ! "  said  Adriana.     •'  It  can  not  be  true." 

"  Perhaps  he  is  the  most  determined,"  said  Myra.  "  ]\Ioral 
courage  is  the  rarest  of  qualities,  and  often  maligned." 

"Well,  he  has  got  a  champion,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel. 

"  I  ardently  wish  him  success,"  said  Myra,  "  in  all  his  un- 
dertakings.    I  only  wish  I  knew  what  they  were." 


154 


EXDYMION. 


"  Has  not  he  told  j'our  brother,  Miss  Fjrrars  ?"  asked  ^Ir. 
Neucliatel,  with  hiughing  eyes. 

"lie  never  speaks  of  himself  to  Endymion,"  said  Myra. 

*'  He  speaks  a  good  deal  of  himself  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Neu- 
chatel ;  ''and  he  is  going  to  bring  a  friend  here  to-morrow  who 
knows  more  about  his  aifairs  even  than  I  do.  So  you  will  have 
a  very  good  opportunity,  Miss  Ferrars,  of  making  yourself  ac- 
(juainted  with  them,  particularly  if  you  sit  next  to  him  at  din- 
ner, and  arc  very  winning." 

The  friend  of  Colonel  Albert  was  Baron  Scrgius,  the  baron 
who  used  to  visit  him  in  London  at  twilight  in  a  dark  brougham. 
Mrs.  Neuchatel  was  greatly  Laken  by  his  appearance,  by  the 
calmness  of  his  mien,  his  unstudied  politeness,  and  his  mea- 
sured voice.  He  conversed  with  her  entirely  at  dinner  on  Ger- 
man philosophy,  of  which  he  seemed  a  complete  master,  ex- 
plained to  her  the  different  schools,  ana  j^robably  the  success- 
ful ones,  and  imparted  to  h^r  that  precise  knowledge  Avhich  she 
required  on  the  subject,  vhicli  she  had  otherwise  been  un- 

able to  obtain.  It  seemeu,  <.oO,  that  he  personally  knew  all  the 
famous  professors,  and  he  intimated  their  doctrines  not  only 
with  profound  criticism,  but  described  their  persons  and  habits 
with  vividness  and  picturesque  power,  never,  however,  all  this 
time,  by  any  chance  raising  his  voice,  the  tones  of  which  w£  re 
ever  distinct  and  a  little  precise. 

"  Is  this  the  first  visit  of  your  friend  to  this  country  ?  "  asked 
Myra  of  Colonel  Albert. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  he  has  been  here  often — and  everywhere,"  added 
Colonel  Albert. 

"Everywhere!  he  must  bo  a  most  interesting  companion 
then." 

"  I  find  him  so  ;  I  never  knew  any  one  whom  I  thought  equal 
to  him.  But  perhaps  I  am  not  an  impartial  judge,  for  I  have 
known  him  so  long  and  so  intimately.  In  fact,  I  have  never 
been  out  of  his  sight  till  I  was  brought  over  to  this  country  to 
be  placed  at  Eton.  He  is  the  counselor  of  our  family,  and  we 
all  of  us  have  ever  agreed  that  if  his  advice  had  been  always  fol- 
lowed we  should  never  have  had  a  calamity." 

*'  Indeed  a  gifted  person  !    Is  he  a  soldier  ?  " 


i  r 


■f 


A   PACKET. 


155 


(( 


No  ;  Baron   Scrgius  has  not   followed  the  profession  of 


arms. 


» 


li 


were 


''  He  looks  a  diplomatist." 

"Well,  he  is  now  nothing  but  my  friend,"  said  the  colonel. 
'  He  might  have  been  anything,  but  he  is  a  peculiarly  domes- 
tic character,  and  is  devoted  to  private  life." 

"You  are  fortunate  in  such  a  friend." 

"Well,  I  am  glad  to  be  fortunate  in  something,"  said 
Colonel  Albert. 

"  And  are  you  not  fortunate  in  everything  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  that  reputation  ;  but  I  shall  be  more  than  for- 
tunate if  I  have  your  kind  wishes." 

"  That  you  have,"  said  Myra,  rather  eagerly.  "  My  brother 
taught  me,  even  as  a  child,  to  wish  nothing  but  good  for  you. 
I  wish  I  knew  only  what  I  was  to  wish  for." 

"Wish  that  my  plans  may  succeed,"  said  Colonel  Albert, 
looking  round  to  her  with  interest. 

"I  will  more  than  wish,"  said  Myra;  "I  will  be.ieve 
that  they  will  succeed,  because  I  think  you  have  resolved  to 
succeed." 

"I  shall  tell  Endymion  when  I  see  him,"  said  Colonel 
Albert,  "  that  his  sister  is  the  only  person  who  has  read  my 
character." 


)anion 

equal 
have 
never 
try  to 
nd  we 
ys  f  ol- 


n 


J: 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

Colonel  Albert  aud  Baron  Sergius  drove  up  in  their  landau 
from  Ilainault  while  Endymion  was  at  the  door  in  Warwick 
Street,  returning  home.  The  colonel  saluted  him  cordially  and 
said,  "The  baron  is  going  to  take  a  cup  of  coffee  with  me; 
join  us."  So  they  went  up-stairs.  There  was  a  packet  on  the 
table,  which  seemed  to  catch  the  colonel's  eye  immediately,  and 
he  at  once  opened  it  with  eagerness.  It  contained  many  for- 
eign newspapers.  Without  waiting  for  the  servant  who  was 
about  to  bring  candles,  the  colonel  lighted  a  taper  on  the  table 
with  a  lucifer,  and  then  withdrew  into  the  adjoining  chamber, 


I 


Fi 


I 


15G 


EXDYMIOy. 


opening,  however,  with  folding  doors  to  the  principal  and  spa- 
cious apartment. 

**A  foreign  newspaper  always  interests  our  friend,"  eaid  the 
baron,  taking  his  colfeo. 

"Well,  it  must  always  be  interesting  to  have  news  from 
home,  I  suppose,"  said  Endymion. 

**IIome!"  said  the  baron.  "News  is  always  interesting, 
whether  it  come  from  home  or  not." 

"To  public  men,"  said  End3'mion,  sipping  his  coffee. 

"  To  all  men  if  they  be  wise,"  said  the  baron  ;  '*  as  a  general 
rule,  the  most  successful  man  in  life  is  the  man  who  has  the 
best  information. " 

"But  what  a  rare  thing  is  success  in  life,"  said  Endymion. 
"I  often  wonder  whetuer  I  shall  ever  be  able  to  step  out  of 
the  crowd." 

"You  may  have  success  in  life  without  stepping  out  of  the 
crowd,"  said  the  baron. 

"A  sort  of  success,"  said  Endymion;  "I  know  what  you 
mean.  But  what  I  mean  is  real  success  in  life.  I  mean,  I 
should  like  to  be  a  public  man." 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  the  baron. 

"  "Well,  I  should  like  to  have  power,"  said  Endymion 
blushing. 

"The  most  powerful  men  are  not  jmblic  men,"  said  the 
baron.  "A  public  man  is  responsible,  and  a  responsible  man 
is  a  slave.  It  is  private  life  that  governs  the  world.  You 
will  find  this  out  some  day.  The  world  talks  much  of  power- 
ful sovereigns  and  great  ministers  ;  and  if  being  talked  about 
made  one  powerful,  they  would  be  irresistible.  But  the  fact 
is,  the  more  you  are  talked  about  the  less  powerful  you  are." 

"But  surely  King  Luitbrand  is  a  powerful  monarch  ;  they 
say  he  is  the  wisest  of  men.  And  the  Emperor  Harold,  who 
has  succeeded  in  everything.  And  as  for  ministers,  who  is  a 
great  man  if  it  be  not  Prince  Wenceslaus  ?  " 

"  King  Luitbrand  is  governed  by  his  doctor,  who  is  capable 
of  governing  Europe,  but  has  no  ambition  that  way ;  the  Em- 
peror Harold  is  directed  by  his  mistress,  who  is  a  woman  of  a 
certain  age  with  a  vast  sagacity,  but  who  also  believes  in  sor- 


r 


k 


ifi 


EXDYMIOX'S  FIRST  SPEECIT. 


157 


eery  ;  and  as  for  Prince  Wcnccslaus,  he  is  inspired  by  an  individ- 
ual as  obscure  as  ourselves,  and  who,  for  aught  I  know,  may  bo, 
at  tliis  moment,  like  ourselves,  drinking  a  cup  of  coffee  in  a 
hired  lodging." 

"  What  you  say  about  public  life  amazes  me,'' said  Endym- 
ion  musingly. 

"  Think  over  it,"  said  the  l)aron.  *'  As  an  Englishman,  you 
will  have  difficulty  in  avoiding  public  life.  But  at  any  rate, 
do  not  at  present  be  discontented  that  you  are  unknown.  It 
is  the  firFt  condition  of  real  power.  When  you  have  succeeded 
in  life  according  to  your  views,  and  I  am  inclined  to  believe  you 
will  so  succeed,  you  will,  some  day,  sigh  for  real  power,  and  de- 
nounce the  time  when  you  became  a  public  man,  and  l)elonged 
to  any  one  but  yourself.  But  our  friend  calls  me.  He  has 
found  something  startling.  I  will  venture  to  say,  if  there  bo 
anything  in  it,  it  has  been  brought  about  by  some  individual 
of  whom  you  never  heard." 


IS  a 

)able 
Em- 
of  a 

sor- 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

With  the  assembling  of  Parliament  in  November  recom- 
menced the  sittings  of  the  Union  Society,  of  which  Endymion 
had  for  some  time  been  a  member,  and  of  whose  meetings  he 
was  a  constant  and  critical,  though  silent,  attendant.  There 
was  a  debate  one  night  on  the  government  of  dependencies, 
which,  althoK-h  all  reference  to  existing  political  circumstances 
was  rigidly  prohil)ited,  no  doubt  had  its  origin  in  the  critical 
state  of  one  of  our  most  important  colonies,  then  much  em- 
barrassing the  metropolis.  The  subject  was  one  which  Endym- 
ion had  considered,  and  on  which  he  had  arrived  at  certain 
conclusions.  The  meeting  was  fully  attended,  and  the  debate 
had  been  conducted  with  a  gravity  becoming  the  theme.  En- 
dymion was  sitting  on  a  back  bench,  and  with  no  companion 
near  him  with  whom  he  was  acquainted,  when  he  rose  and  so- 
licited the  attention  of  the  president.  Another  and  a  well- 
known  speaker  had  also  risen,  and  been  called,  but  there  was  i 


15S 


LWDYMION. 


cry  of  "new  memLcr,"  ii  courteous  cry,  borrowed  from  the 
House  of  Commons,  iiud  Endymion  for  the  first  time  heard  his 
own  voice  in  public,  lie  h.'.s  since  admitted,  thougli  lie  has 
been  through  many  tryii  g  sccnei^,  that  it  was  the  most  ner- 
vous moment  of  his  life.  'After  Calai:^,"  as  a  wise  wit  said, 
"nothing  sur])riscs  ;''  and  the  first  time  a  man  speaks  in  pub- 
lic, even  if  only  at  a  debating  society,  is  also  the  uncqualed 
incident  in  its  way.  The  indulgence  of  the  audience  sui)portcd 
him  while  the  mist  cleared  from  his  vision,  and  his  palpitating 
heart  subsided  into  compurative  tranquillity.  After  a  few  par- 
donable incohcrencies,  he  was  launched  into  his  subject,  and 
spoke  with  the  thoughtful  fluency  which  knowledge  alone  can 
sustain.     For  knowledge  is  the  foundation  of  eloquence. 

"  What  a  good-looking  young  fellow  ! "  Avhispered  Mr.  Bertie 
Trcmainc  to  his  brother  Mr.  Trcmaine  Bertie.  The  Bertie 
Tremaines  were  the  two  greatest  swells  of  the  Union,  and  had 
a  party  of  their  own.     *•  And  he  speaks  well." 

''Who  is  he  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Trcmainc  Bertie  of  their  other 
neighbor. 

"He  is  a  clerk  in  the  Treasury,  I  believe,  or  something  of 
that  sort,"  was  the  rei)ly. 

"I  never  saw  such  n  good-looking  young  fellow,"  said  Mr. 
Bertie  Tremaine.  "  Ixc  is  worth  getting  hold  of.  I  shall  ask 
to  be  introduced  to  him  when  we  break  up." 

Accordingly,  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine,  who  was  always  playing 
at  politics,  and  who,  being  two  and  twenty,  was  discontented 
he  was  not  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  like  Mr.  Pitt,  whis- 
pered ^o  a  gentleman  who  sat  behind  him,  and  was,  in  short, 
the  whip  of  his  section,  and  signified,  as  a  minister  of  state 
would,  that  an  introduction  to  Mr.  Ferrars  should  be  ar- 
ranged. 

So  when  the  meeting  broke  up,  of  which  Mr.  Ferrars' 
maiden  speech  was  quite  the  event,  and  while  he  was  contem- 
plating, not  without  some  fair  self-complacency,  walking  home 
with  Trenchard,  Endymion  found  himself  encompassed  by  a 
group  of  bowing  forms  and  smiling  countenances,  and  almost 
before  he  was  aware  of  it,  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  the 
great  Mr.   Bertie  Tremaine,  and  received,  not  only  the  con- 


«*•'■ 


Mli.  BERTIE  TREMAIXE. 


15a 


aymg 
entcd 
whis- 
short, 
state 
■)e   ar- 

rrars' 
iitem- 
home 

by  a 
Imost 
f  the 

con- 


fjratulations  of  tluit  gentleman,  but  an  invitation  to  dine  with 
him  on  tlic  morrow  ;  **<iui^e  sans/a^on/* 

Mr.  Beit:'>  Tremaine,  wlio  luul  early  succeeded  to  tlio  family 
estate,  lived  in  CJrosvenor  Street,  and  in  becoming  style.  His 
house  was  furnislied  with  luxury  and  some  taste.  The  host 
received  his  guests  in  a  library,  well  stored  with  political  his- 
tory and  political  science,  and  adorned  with  the  busts  of  cele- 
brated statesmen  and  of  profound  political  sages.  Bentliam 
was  the  philosopher  then  affected  by  young  gentlemen  of  am- 
bition, and  who  wished  to  have  credit  for  profundity  and  liartl 
heads.  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine  had  been  the  proi)rietor  of  a  close 
borough,  which  for  several  gencr.'.tiuns  had  returned  his  family 
to  Parliament,  the  faithful  sui)porters  of  Pitt  and  Perceval, 
and  Liverpool,  and  he  had  contemplated  following  the  same 
line,  though  with  larger  and  higher  objects  than  his  ancestors. 
Being  a  man  of  considerable  and  versatile  ability,  and  of  ample 
fortune,  with  the  hereditary  opportunity  which  he  jiossesscd, 
he  had  a  right  to  aspire,  and,  as  his  vanity  more  than  equaled 
his  talents,  his  estimate  of  his  own  career  was  not  mean.  Un- 
fortunately, before  he  left  IlarroAV,  he  was  deprived  of  his  bor- 
ough, and  this  catastrophe  eventually  occasioned  a  considerable 
change  in  the  views  and  conduct  of  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine.  In 
the  confusion  of  parties  and  political  thought  which  followed 
the  Reform  Act  of  Lord  Grey,  an  attempt  to  govern  the  coun- 
try by  the  assertion  of  abstract  principles,  and  which  it  was 
now  beginning  to  be  the  fashion  to  call  Liberalism,  seemed  the 
only  opening  to  public  life,  and  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine,  who 
piqued  himself  on  recognizing  the  spirit  of  the  age,  adopted 
Liberal  opinions  with  that  youthful  fervor  which  is  sometimes 
called  enthusiasm,  but  which  is  a  heat  of  imagination  subse- 
quently discovered  to  be  inconsistent  with  the  exi)erienco  of 
actual  life.  At  Cambridge  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine  was  at  first 
the  solitary  pupil  of  Bentham,  whose  principles  he  was  pre- 
pared to  carry  to  their  extreme  consequences,  but  being  a  man 
of  energy  and  in  possession  of  a  good  estate,  he  soon  found  fol- 
lowers, for  the  sympathies  of  youth  are  quick,  and,  even  with 
an  original  bias,  it  is  essentially  mimetic.  When  Mr.  Bertie 
Tremaine  left  the  university,  he  found  in  the  miscellaneous 


IGO 


ENDYMIOX. 


elements  of  the  London  Union  many  of  liis  former  companions 
of  school  and  college,  and  from  them,  and  the  new  world  to 
which  he  was  introdnced,  it  delighted  him  to  form  parties  and 
construct  imaginary  cabinets,  llis  brother  Augustus,  who  was 
his  junior  only  by  a  year,  and  was  destined  to  be  a  diplomatist, 
was  an  eP^clent  assistant  in  these  enterprises,  and  was  one  of 
the  guests  who  greeted  Endymion  when  he  arrived  next  day  in 
Grosvenor  Street  according  to  his  engagement.  The  other 
three  were  Ilortensius,  the  whip  of  the  party,  and  Mr.  Trcn- 
chard. 

The  dinner  was  refined,  for  ]\[r.  Bci'tie  Trcmaino  coml)inod 
the  Sybarite  with  the  Utilitarian  sage,  and  it  secretly  delighted 
him  to  astonish  or  embarrass  an  austere  brother  republican  by 
the  splendor  of  his  family  plate  or  the  polished  appointments 
of  his  household.  To-day  the  individual  to  be  influenced  Avas 
Endymion,  and  the  host,  acting  up  to  his  ideal  of  a  first  min- 
ister, addressed  questions  to  his  companions  on  the  subjects 
which  were  peculiarly  their  own,  and  after  eliciting  their 
remarks,  continued  or  completed  the  treatment  of  the  theme 
with  adequate  ability,  though  in  a  manner  authoritative,  and, 
-as  Endymion  thought,  a  little  pompous.  "What  amused  him 
most  in  this  assemblage  of  youth  was  their  earnest  affectation 
of  public  life.  The  freedom  of  their  comments  on  others  Avas 
•only  equaled  by  their  confidence  in  themselves.  Endymion,  who 
•only  spoke  when  he  was  appealed  to,  had  casually  remarked  in 
answer  to  one  of  the  observations  which  his  host  with  elabo- 
rate politeness  occasionally  addressed  to  him,  that  he  thought 
it  was  unpatriotic  to  take  a  certain  course.  Mr.  Bertie  Tre- 
maine  immediately  drew  up,  and  said,  "v»ith  a  deep  smile, 
*'  That  he  comprehended  philanthropy,  but  patriotism  he  con- 
fessed he  did  not  understand."  And  thereupon  delivered  him- 
self of  an  address  on  the  subject  which  might  have  been  made 
in  the  Union,  and  which  communicated  to  the  astonished  En- 
dymion that  patriotism  was  a  false  idea,  and  entirely  repugnant 
to  the  principles  of  the  new  philosophy.  As  all  present  were 
more  or  less  impregnated  with  these  tenets,  there  was  no  con- 
troversy on  ihe  matter.  Endymion  remained  discreetly  silent, 
and  Augustus — Mr.  Bertie  Tremtiine's  brother — who  sat  next 


1 


ignunt 
^t  were 
lo  con- 
I  silent. 
It  next 


1 


,i 


1 


,  '  -.'4 


THE  PARTY  OF  TTTE  FVTURE, 


161 


to  liim,  and  avIiosc  manners  were  as  sympatliizing  as  liis  broth- 
er's were  autocratic,  whispered  in  a  wheedling  tone  that  it  was 
quite  true,  and  that  the  idea  of  patriotism  Avas  entirely  relin- 
quished except  by  a  few  old-fashioned  folks  who  clung  to  su- 
perstitious phrases.  Ilortensius,  who  seemed  to  bo  tlie  only 
one  of  the  company  who  presumed  to  meet  Mr.  Bertie  Tre- 
maine  in  conversation  on  equal  terms,  and  who  had  already 
astonished  Endymion  by  what  that  inexperienced  youth  deemc  1 
the  extreme  laxity  of  his  views,  both  social  and  }»olitiGal, 
evinced,  more  than  once,  a  disposition  to  deviate  into  the  liglit- 
er  topics  of  feminine  character,  and  even  the  fortunes  of  tlie 
hazard-table  ;  but  the  host  looked  severe,  and  was  evidently  re- 
solved that  the  conversation  to-day  should  resemble  the  expres- 
sion of  his  countenance.  After  dinner  they  returned  to  the 
library,  and  most  of  them  smoked,  but  Mr.  Bertie  Tremfiine, 
inviting  Endymion  to  seat  himself  by  his  side  on  a  sofa  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  room,  observed,  "I  suppose  you  are  looking 
to  Parliament  ?  " 

"Well,  I  do  not  know,"  said  the  somewhat  startled  En- 
dymion ;  "I  have  not  thought  much  about  it,  and  I  have  not 
yet  reached  a  parliamentary  age." 

"A  man  can  not  enter  Parliament  too  soon,"  said  Mr.  Ber- 
tie Tremaine  ;  "  I  hope  to  enter  this  session.  There  will  be  a 
certain  vacancy  on  a  petition,  and  I  have  arranged  to  have  the 
seat." 

"Indeed  !"  said  Endymion.  "My  father  was  in  Parlia- 
ment, and  so  was  my  grandfather,  but  I  confess  I  do  not  very 
Avell  see  my  way  thc^re." 

"You  must  connect  yourself  with  a  party,"  said  Mr.  Bertie 
Tremaine,  "and  you  w  il  soon  enter;  and  being  young,  you 
should  connect  yottrself  with  the  party  of  the  future.  The 
country  is  wearied  with  the  prci^ent  men,  who  have  no  philo- 
sophical foimdation,  and  are  therefore  perpetually  puzzled  and 
inconsistent,  and  the  country  will  not  stand  the  old  men,  as  it 
is  resolved  against  retrogression.  'JMie  l)arty  of  the  future  and 
of  the  sjjccdy  future  has  its  headquarters  under  this  roof,  and 
I  shoidd  like  to  see  you  belong  to  it." 

"You  are  too  kind,"  niuriuured  Endymion. 


162 


ENDYMIOK 


\ 


I  tfi 


s    5 

1  »    ! 


''  Yes,  I  see  in  you  the  qualities  adai)ted  tu  public  life,  and 
which  may  be  turned  to  great  account.  I  must  get  you  into 
Parliament  as  soon  as  you  are  eligible,"  continued  Mr.  Bertie 
Tremaine  in  a  musing  tone.  *'  This  death  of  the  King  was 
very  inojiportune.  If  he  had  reigned  a  couple  of  years  more, 
I  saw  my  way  to  half  a  dozen  seats,  and  I  could  have  aiTanged 
with  Lord  Durham." 

*'That  was  unfortunate,"  said  Endymion. 

"What  do  you  think  of  Hortensius  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Bertie 
Tremaine. 

*'  I  think  him  the  most  brilliant  speaker  I  know,"  said  En- 
dymion. *'  I  never  met  him  in  private  society  before  ;  he  talks 
well." 

'Tie  wants  conduct,"  said  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine.  *'He 
ought  to  be  my  Lord  Chancellor,  but  there  is  a  tone  of  levity 
about  him  which  is  unfortunate.  Men  destined  to  the  highest 
places  should  beware  of  badinage." 

"I  believe  it  is  a  dangerous  weapon." 

''  All  lawyers  are  loose  in  their  youth,  but  an  insular  coun- 
try subject  to  fogs,  and  with  a  powerful  middle  class,  requires 
grave  statesmen.  I  attribute  a  great  deal  of  the  nonsense  called 
Conservative  Reaction  to  Peel's  solemnity.  The  proper  min- 
ister for  England  at  this  moment  would  be  Pitt.  Extreme 
youth  gives  hope  to  a  country  ;  coupled  with  ceremonious  man- 
ners, hope  soon  assumes  the  form  of  confidence." 

''Ah  !"  murmured  Endymion. 

"  I  had  half  a  mind  to  ask  Jawett  to  dinner  to-day.  His 
powers  are  unquestionable,  but  he  is  not  a  practical  man.  For 
instance,  I  think  myself  our  colonial  empire  is  a  mistake,  and 
that  we  should  disembarrass  ourselves  of  its  burden  as  rapidly 
as  is  consistent  with  the  dignity  of  the  nation  ;  but  were  Jawett 
in  the  House  of  Commons  to-morrow,  nothing  would  satisfy 
him  but  a  resolution  for  the  total  and  immediate  abolition  of 
the  empire,  Avitli  a  preamble  denouncing  the  folly  of  our  fa- 
thers in  creating  it.     Jawett  never  spares  any  one's  self-love. " 

"I  know  him  very  well,"  said  Endymion;  "ho  is  in  my 
ofHce.     He  is  very  uncomi'i-omi.^iiig." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine  musingly,  "if  I  had  to 


REMIXISCENCES. 


loa 


form  a  government,  I  could  hardly  offer  him  the  cabineL" 
Then  speaking  more  rapidly,  he  added,  ''The  man  you  should 
attach  yourself  to  is  my  brother  Augustus — Mr.  Tremaine 
Bertie.  There  is  no  man  who  understands  foreign  politics  like 
Augustus,  and  he  is  a  thorough  man  of  the  world." 


uires 

called 

min- 

;reme 

1  man- 


His 

For 
■,  and 
ipidly 
awett 
atisfy 
ion  of 
ur  fa- 
ve." 
[U  my 

lad  to 


!i 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

When  Parliament  reassembled  in  February,  the  Neuchatcls 
quittff]  Ilainault  for  their  London  residence  in  Portland  Place. 
Mrs.  Neuchatel  was  sadly  troubled  at  leaving  her  country  home, 
which,  notwithstanding  its  distressing  splendor,  had  still  some 
forms  of  compensatory  innocence  in  its  flowers  and  sylvan 
glades.  Adriana  sighed  when  she  called  to  mind  the  manifold 
and  mortifying  snares  and  pitfalls  that  awaited  her,  and  had 
even  framed  a  highly  practical  and  sensible  scheme  which 
would  permit  her  parents  to  settle  in  town  and  allow  Myra  and 
herself  to  remain  permanently  in  the  country ;  but  Myra 
l)rushcd  away  the  project  like  a  fly,  and  Adriana  yielding,  em- 
braced her  with  tearful  eyes. 

The  Neuchatel  mansion  in  Portland  Place  was  one  of  the 
noblest  in  t!  nt  comely  quarter  of  tiie  town,  and  replete  with 
every  charm  and  convenience  that  wealth  and  taste  could  pro- 
vide. ^fjTa,  who,  like  her  brother,  had  a  tenacious  memory, 
was  interested  in  recalling  as  fully  and  as  accurately  as  possible 
her  previous  experience  of  London  life.  She  was  then  indeed 
only  a  child,  but  a  child  who  was  often  admitted  to  brilliant 
circles,  and  had  enjoyed  oriportunities  of  social  observation 
Avhich  the  very  vmv'ifiil  seldom  ]ios>ess.  Her  retrospection 
was  not  as  proli  .  •\~  ■^h- could  have  desired,  and  she  Avas 
astonished,  after  a  se  -  analysis  of  the  past,  to  find  how  en- 
tirely ur  that  early  age  she  appeared  to  have  been  engrossed 
with  herself  and  with  Endymion.  Hill  Street  and  Wimbledon, 
and  all  their  various  life,  figured  as  shadowy  scenes  ;  she  could 
"ealize  nothing  very  definite  for  her  present  guidance  ;  the 
pas-t  seemed  a  phantom  of  fine  dresses,  and  bright  e(|uipages, 


1G4 


EXDYMION. 


T 


IH. ; 


' 


and  endlci=!s  indulgence.  All  that  had  happened  after  their  fall 
was  distinct  and  full  of  meaning.  It  would  seem  that  adver- 
sity had  taught  Myra  to  feel  and  think. 

Forty  years  ago  the  great  financiers  had  not  that  command- 
ing, not  to  say  predominant,  position  in  society  which  they 
possess  at  present,  but  the  Neuchatels  were  an  exception  to 
this  general  condition.  They  Averc  a  family  which  not  only 
liad  the  art  of  accumulating  wealth,  but  of  expending  it  with 
taste  and  generosity — an  extremely  rare  combination.  Their 
great  riches,  their  political  influence,  tiieir  high  integrity  and 
their  social  accomplishments,  combined  to  render  their  house 
not  only  splendid,  but  interesting  and  agreeable,  and  gave 
them  a  great  hold  upon  the  world.  At  first  the  fine  ladies  of 
their  political  party  called  on  them  as  a  homage  of  condescend- 
ing gratitude  for  the  public  support  which  the  Neuchatel 
family  gave  to  their  sons  and  husbands,  but  they  soon  discov- 
ered that  this  amiable  descent  from  their  Olympian  heights  on 
tJieir  part  did  not  amount  exactly  to  the  sacrifice  or  service 
•which  they  had  contemplated.  They  found  their  hosts  as  re- 
fined r.s  thcmR'lves,  and  much  more  magnificent,  and  in  a  very 
short  time  it  xras  not  merely  the  wives  of  ambassadors  and  min- 
isters of  -itate  that  were  found  at  the  garc^en  fetes  of  Ilainault, 
or  the  bails,  and  banquets,  and  concert  5  of  Portland  Place, 
but  the  fitful  and  caprcious  realm  of  fashion  surrendered  like 
a  fair  country  conquered  as  it  wTre  by  surprise.  To  visit  the 
Neuchatels  became  the  mode  ;  all  solicited  to  be  their  guests, 
and  some  solicited  in  vain. 

Although  it  was  only  Febraary,  the  world  began  to  move, 
and  some  of  the  ministers'  wives  who  were  socially  strong 
•  ■nough  to  venture  on  such  a  wstep,  received  their  friends.  ]\Ir. 
Xeuchatel  particularly  liked  this  form  of  society.  ''  I  can  not 
manage  balls,"  he  used  to  say,  "but  I  like  a  ministerial  recep- 
tion. There  is  some  chance  of  sensible  conversation  and  doing 
a  little  business.  I  like  talking  with  ambassadors  after  dinner. 
Besides,  in  this  country  you  meet  the  leaders  of  the  opposition, 
because,  as  they  are  not  invited  by  the  minister,  but  by  his 
wife,  anybody  can  come  without  committing  himself." 

Myra,  faithful  to  her  original  resolution,  not  to  enter  society 


MYBA'S  CURIOSITY 


165 


eir  faU 
advcr- 

imand- 
li  tlicy 
tion  to 
ot  only 
it  with 

Their 
ity  and 
r  house 
id  gave 
adies  of 
lescend- 
;iichatcl 
discoY- 
ights  on 
'  service 
bs  as  re- 

a  very 
lid  min- 
ainaiilt, 
I  Place, 
red  like 

isit  the 

guests, 

move, 

strong 

Mr. 

;'aii  not 

rccep- 

doing 

[inner. 

)sition, 

bv  his 


ocicty 


I 


■Nvhile  she  was  in  monrning,  declined  all  the  solicitations  of  her 
friends  to  accompany  them  to  tliese  assemblies.  Mrs.  Neucha- 
tel  always  wished  Myra  should  be  her  substitute,  and  it  was 
only  at  Myra's  instance  that  Adriana  accompanied  her  parents.. 
In  the  mean  time,  Myra  saw  much  of  Endymion.  lie  was 
always  a  welcome  guest  by  the  family,  and  could  call  upon  his 
sister  at  all  the  odds  and  ends  of  time  that  were  at  his  com- 
mand, and  chat  with  her  at  pleasant  ease  in  her  pretty  room. 
Sometimes  tliey  walked  out  together,  and  sometimes  they  went 
together  to  see  some  exhibition  that  everybody  went  to  see. 
Adriana  became  almost  as  intimate  Avith  Endymion  as  his 
sister,  and  altogether  the  Neuchatel  family  became  by  degrees 
to  him  as  a  kind  of  home.  Talking  with  Endymion,  Myra 
heard  a  good  deal  of  Colonel  Albert,  for  he  was  her  brother's 
liero — but  she  rarely  saw  that  gentleman.  She  was  aware  from 
her  brother,  and  from  some  occasional  words  of  Mr.  Neuchatel, 
that  the  great  banker  still  saw  Colonel  Albert  and  not  unfrc- 
quently,  but  the  change  of  residence  from  Ilainault  to  London 
made  a  difference  in  their  mode  of  communication.  Business 
was  transacted  in  Bisliopsgate  Street,  and  no  longer  combined 
with  a  pleasant  ride  to  an  Essex  forest.  More  tlian  once  Colo- 
nel Albert  had  dined  in  Portland  Place,  but  at  irregular  and 
miscellaneous  parties.  Myra  observed  that  he  was  never  asked 
to  meet  the  grand  personages  who  attended  tlic  celebrated  ban- 
quets of  Mr.  Neuchatcl.  And  why  not  ?  His  manners  were 
distinguished,  and  his  whole  bearing  that  of  one  accustomed 
to  consideration.  Tlie  irrepressible  curiosity  of  woman  ini- 
pcllod  her  once  to  feel  her  way  on  the  subject  with  Mr.  Neu- 
chatel,  but  with  the  utmost  dexterity  and  delicacy. 

"Xo,"said  Mr.  Neuchatel  witli  a  laughing  eye,  and  who 
saw  through  everybody's  purpose,  though  his  own  manner  Avas 
one  of  simplicity  amounting  almost  to  innocence,  ''I  did  not 
say  Colonel  Albert  was  going  to  d'ne  here  on  Wednesday;  I 
have  asked  him  to  dine  here  on  Sunday.  On  Wednesday  I  am 
going  to  have  the  premier  and  some  of  his  colleagues.  I  must 
insist  upon  Miss  Ferrars  dining  at  table.  You  will  meet  Lord 
Eoehampton  ;  all  the  ladies  admire  him  and  lie  admires  all  tne 
ladies.     It  will  not  do  to  ask  Colonel  Albert  to  meet  such  a 


160 


ENDYMIOK 


party,  tliongh  pcrliaps,"  added  Mr.  Ncuchatcl  with  a  merry 
smile,  **  some  day  tliey  may  be  asked  to  meet  Colonel  Albert. 
Who  knows,  Miss  Ferrars  ?  The  -wheel  of  fortune  turns  round 
very  strangely." 

"And  who  then  is  Colonel  Albert  ?"  asked  Myra  with  de- 
cision. 

"  Colonel  Albert  is  Colonel  Albert,  and  nobody  else  so  far 
as  I  know,"  replied  Mr.  Neuchatel ;  **he  has  brought  a  let- 
ter of  credit  on  my  house  in  that  name,  and  I  am  happy  to 
honor  his  drafts  to  the  amount  in  question,  and  as  he  is  a 
foreigner,  I  think  it  is  but  kind  and  courteous  occasionally  to 
ask  him  to  dinner." 

Miss  Ferrars  did  not  j^ursue  the  inquiry,  for  she  was  suf- 
ficiently acquainted  with  Mr.  Neuchatel  to  feel  that  he  did  not 
intend  to  gratify  her  curiosity. 

The  banquet  of  the  Neuchatels  to  the  i)rcmicr,  and  some  of 
the  principal  ambassadors  and  their  wives,  and  to  those  of  the 
premier's  colleagues  who  were  fashionable  enough  to  be  asked, 
and  to  some  of  the  dukes  and  duchesses  and  other  ethereal 
beings  who  supported  the  ministry,  was  the  first  event  of  the 
season.  The  table  blazed  with  rare  flowers  and  rarer  porcelain 
and  precious  candelabra  of  sculptured  beauty  glittering  with 
light ;  the  gold  plate  was  less  remarkable  than  the  delicate 
ware  that  had  been  alike  molded  and  adorned  for  a  Du  Barri 
or  a  Marie  Antoinette,  and  which  now  found  a  permanent  and 
peaceful  home  in  the  proverbial  land  of  purity  and  order  ;  and 
amid  the  stars  and  ribbons,  not  the  least  remarkable  feature  of 
the  whole  was  Mr.  Neuchatel  himself,  seated  at  the  center  of 
his  table,  alike  free  from  ostentation  or  over-deference,  talking 
to  the  great  ladies  on  each  side  of  him  as  if  he  had  nothing  to 
do  in  life  but  whisper  in  gentle  cars,  and  partaking  of  his  own 
dainties  as  if  he  were  eating  bread  and  cheese  at  a  country  inn. 

Perhaps  Mrs.  Neuchatel  might  have  afforded  a  companion 
picture.  Partly  in  deference  to  their  host,  and  partly  because 
this  evening  the  first  dance  of  the  season  was  to  be  given,  the 
great  ladies  in  general  wore  their  diamonds,  and  Myra  was 
amused  as  she  watched  their  dazzling  tiaras  and  flashing  ri- 
vieres, while  not  a  single  ornament  adorned  the  graceful  pres- 


LADY  MONTFORT. 


167 


-^' 


; 


ence  of  tlieir  liostess,  who  was  more  content  to  be  brilliant 
only  by  her  conversation.  As  Mr.  Neuchatel  had  only  a  few 
days  before  presented  his  wife  with  another  diamond  necklace, 
he  might  be  excused  were  he  slightly  annoyed.  Nothing  of 
the  sort ;  he  only  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  said  to  his 
nephew,  '"  Your  aunt  must  feel  that  I  give  her  diamonds  from 
love  and  not  from  vanity,  as  she  never  lets  me  have  the  plea- 
sure of  seeing  them."  The  sole  ornament  of  Adriana  Avas  an 
orchid,  which  had  arrived  that  morning  from  Ilainault,  and 
she  had  presented  its  fellow  to  Myra. 

There  was  one  lady  who  much  attracted  the  attention  of 
Myra,  interested  in  all  f^he  observed.  This  lady  was  evidently 
a  person  of  importance,  for  she  sat  betAveen  an  ambassador  and 
a  knight  of  the  garter,  and  they  vied  in  homage  to  her.  They 
Avatched  her  e\'cry  word,  and  seemed  delighted  with  all  she  said. 
Without  being  strictly  beautiful,  there  was  an  expression  of 
sweet  animation  in  her  physiognomy  which  Avas  highly  attrac- 
tive :  her  eye  Avas  full  of  summer  lightning,  and  there  Avas  an 
arch  dimple  in  her  smile,  which  seemed  to  irradiate  her  Avholc 
countenance.  She  Avas  quite  a  young  Avoman,  hardly  older 
than  Myra.  What  most  distinguished  her  was  the  harmony  of 
her  Avhole  person  ;  her  graceful  figure,  her  fair  and  finely 
molded  shoulders,  her  pretty  teeth  and  her  small  extremities, 
seemed  to  blend  Avitli  and  become  the  soft  vivacity  of  her  win- 
ning glance. 

**Lady  Montfort  looks  well  to-night,"  said  the  neighbor  of 
Myra. 

*^  And  is  that  Lady  Montfort  ?  Do  you  know,  I  neAxr  saAv 
her  before. " 

"  Yes  ;  that  is  the  famous  Bercngaria,  the  Queen  of  Society 
and  the  genius  of  Whiggism." 

In  the  CA'ening,  t..  great  lady,  who  was  held  to  have  the 
finest  voice  in  society,  favored  them  Avith  a  splendid  specimen 
of  her  commanding  skill,  and  then  Adriana  was  induced  to  grat- 
ify her  friends  with  a  song,  ''only  one  song,"  and  that  only  on 
condition  that  Myra  should  accompany  her.  Miss  Neuchatel 
had  a  sweet  and  tender  voice  and  it  had  been  finely  cultivated  ; 
she  Avould  have  been  more  than  charming  if  she  had  only  taken 


168 


endymion: 


interest  in  anything  slie  herself  did,  or  believed  for  a  moment 
that  she  could  interest  others.  When  she  ceased,  a  gentleman 
approached  the  instrument  and  addressed  her  in  terms  of  sym- 
pathy and  deferential  praise.  Myra  recognized  the  knight  of 
the  garter  who  had  sat  next  to  Lady  Montfort.  lie  was  some- 
what advanced  in  middle  life,  tall  and  of  a  stately  presence, 
with  a  voice  more  musical  even  than  the  tones  which  had  re- 
cently enchanted  every  one.  His  countenance  was  impressive, 
a  truly  Olyr^pian  brow,  but  the  lower  part  of  the  face  indicated 
not  feebleness,  but  flexibility,  and  his  mouth  was  somcAvhat 
sensuous.  Ilis  manner  was  at  once  winning,  natural,  and  sin- 
gularly unaffected,  and  seemed  to  sympathize  entirely  with 
those  whom  IiC  addressed. 

''  But  I  have  never  been  at  Ilainault, "  said  the  gentleman, 
continuing  a  conversation,  '•'  and  therefore  could  not  hear  the 
nightingales.  I  am  content  you  have  brought  one  of  them  to 
town." 

''Nightingales  disappear  in  June,"  said  Miss  Ferrars  ;  ''so 
our  season  will  be  short. " 

"And  where  do  they  travel  to  ?"  asked  the  gentleman. 

"Ah!  that  is  a  mystery,"  said  Myra.  "You  must  ask 
Miss  Neuchatel." 

"  But  Fhe  will  not  tell  me,"  said  the  gentleman,  for  in  truth 
Miss  Neuchatel,  though  he  had  frequently  addressed  her,  had 
scarcely  opened  her  lips. 

"Tell  your  secret,  Adrlana,"  said  Miss  Ferrars,  trying  to 
force  her  to  converse. 

"  Adriana  !  "  said  the  gentleman.  "  What  a  beautiful  name  ! 
You  look  with  that  flower.  Miss  Neuchatel,  like  a  bride  of 
Venice." 

"Nay,"  said  Myra;  "the  bride  of  Venice  was  a  stormy 
ocean." 

"And  have  you  a  Venetian  name  ?"  asked  the  gentleman. 

There  was  a  pause,  and  then  Miss  Neuchatel,  with  an  effort, 
murmured,  "  She  has  a  very  pretty  name.     Her  name  is  Myra."" 

"She  seems  to  deserve  it,"  said  the  gentleman. 

"  So  you  like  my  daughter's  singing,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel,, 
coming  uji  to  them.     "She  does  not  much  like  singing  in 


V 


LORD  ROEITAMPTOy. 


160 


l)iiblic,  but  slic  is  ii  very  good  girl,  Jiiul  always  gives  me  a  song 
when  I  come  liome  from  business." 

"  Fortunate  man,"  said  the  gentleman.  '•  I  wish  somebody- 
would  sing  to  me  when  I  come  home  from  business." 

"You  should  marry,  my  lord,"  said  Mr.  Xeuchatel,  "and 
get  your  wife  to  sing  to  you.  Is  it  not  so.  Miss  Ferrars  ?  By 
the  by,  I  ought  to  introduce  you  to — Lord  Rochampton." 


so 


prmy 

}man. 

ffort, 
Lyra. 

Iiatel,. 
lig  in 


I 


Jl 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

The  Earl  of  Roehampton  was  the  strongc^it  member  of  tho 
government,  except,  of  course,  the  premier  himself.  lie  Avas 
the  man  from  whose  combined  force  and  flexibility  of  charac- 
ter the  country  had  confidence  that  in  all  their  councils  there 
would  be  no  lack  of  courage,  yet  tempered  with  adroit  discre- 
tion. Lord  Roehampton,  though  an  Englishman,  was  an  Irish 
peer,  and  was  resolved  to  remain  so,  for  he  fully  appreciated 
the  position,  which  united  social  distinction  with  the  poAver  of 
a  seat  in  tho  House  of  Commons,  lie  was  a  very  ambitious, 
and,  as  it  was  thought,  worldly  man,  deemed  even  by  many  to 
be  unscrup)ulous,  and  yet  he  was  romantic.  A  great  favorite 
in  society,  and  especially  with  the  softer  sex,  somewhat  late  in. 
life,  he  had  married  suddenly  a  beautiful  woman,  who  was 
without  fortune,  and  not  a  member  of  the  enchanted  circle  in 
which  he  flourished.  The  union  had  been  successful,  for  Lord 
Roehampton  was  gifted  with  a  sweet  temper,  and,  though  peo- 
ple said  he  had  no  heart,  with  a  winning  tenderness  of  disposi- 
tion or  at  least  of  manner  which  at  the  same  time  charmed  and 
soothed.  He  had  been  a  widower  for  two  years,  and  the  world 
was  of  opinion  that  he  ought  to  marry  again,  and  form  this 
time  a  becoming  alliance.  In  addition  to  his  many  recom- 
mendations he  had  now  the  inestimable  reputation,  which  no 
one  had  ever  contemplated  for  him,  of  having  been  a  good  hus- 
band. 

Bercngaria,  Countess  of  Montfort,  was  a  great  friend  of 
Lord  Roehampton.  She  was  accustomed  to  describe  herself 
8 


170 


ENDY.yiON'. 


m 


I  \ 


as  **  the  last  of  his  conquests,"  and  thoiigli  Lord  Roclianiiton 
read  characters  and  purposes  with  a  glance,  and  was  too  Siiga- 
cious  to  be  deceived  by  any  one,  even  by  himself,  his  gratilied 
taste,  for  he  scarcely  had  vanity,  cherished  the  bright  illu.^ion 
of  wliicli  he  was  conscious,  and  he  responded  to  Lady  ^lontfort 
half-sportively,  half-seriously,  with  an  air  of  llattcred  devotion. 
Lord  Roehampton  had  inherited  an  ample  estate,  and  he  had 
generally  been  in  office  ;  for  he  served  his  apprenticeship  under 
Perceval  and  Liverpool,  and  changed  his  party  just  in  time  to 
become  a  member  of  the  Cabinet  of  1831.  Yet  with  all  these 
advantages,  whether  it  were  the  habit  of  his  life,  which  was 
ever  profuse,  or  that  i  oglect  of  his  jn-ivate  interests  wlilch 
almost  inevitably  accon. panics  the  absorbing  duties  of  public 
life,  his  affairs  were  always  somewhat  confused,  and  Lady  ^lont- 
fort,  who  wished  to  plar  him  on  a  pinnacle,  had  resolved  that 
he  should  marry  an  hein  .  After  long  observation  and  careful 
inquiry  and  prolonged  reflection,  the  lady  she  had  fixed  upon 
was  Miss  Neuchatel ;  and  she  it  was  who  had  made  Lord  Roe- 
hampton cross  the  room  and  address  Adriana  after  her  song. 

''He  is  not  young,"  reasoned  Lady  Montfort  to  liorself, 
*'but  his  mind  and  manner  arc  young,  and  that  is  everything. 
I  am  sure  I  meet  youth  every  day  who,  compared  with  Lord 
Roehampton,  could  have  no  chance  with  my  sex — men  who  can 
neither  feel,  nor  think,  nor  converse.  And  then  he  is  famous, 
and  powerful,  and  fashionable,  and  knows  how  to  talk  to 
women.  And  this  must  all  tell  with  a  banker's  daughter, 
dying,  of  course,  to  be  a  grandc  damr.  It  will  do.  lie  may 
not  be  young,  but  he  is  irresistible.  And  the  father  will  like 
it,  for  he  told  me  in  confidence,  at  dinner,  that  he  wished  Lord 
Roehampton  to  be  prime  minister  ;  and  with  this  alliance  he 
will  be." 

The  i)lot  being  devised  by  a  fertile  brain  never  wanting  in 
expedients,  its  development  was  skillfully  managed,  and  its  ac- 
complishment anticipated  with  confidence.  It  was  remarkable 
with  what  dexterity  the  Neuchatel  family  and  Lord  Roehamp- 
ton were  brought  together.  Bcrengaria's  lord  and  master  was 
in  the  country,  which  he  said  he  would  not  quit ;  but  this  did 
not  prevent  her  giving  delightfid  little  dinners  and  liolding 


«'  ' 


PLOTTTXG. 


171 


select  ii.sscmblics  on  niglit.s  when  there  avus  no  dreadful  House 
of  Commons,  and  Lord  Uoeliampton  could  be  present.  On 
most  occasions,  and  esi)ocially  on  these  latter  ones.  Lady  Mont- 
fort  (■'  nld  not  endure  fxistence  M'it!iout  her  dear  Adriaua. 
Mr.  Neuchatel,  who  was  a  little  iu  the  plot,  who  at  least  smiled 
when  Bcrengaria  alluded  tu  her  enterprise,  was  not  wanting  in 
his  contributions  to  its  success.  lie  hardly  ever  gave  one  of 
his  famons  banquets  to  which  Lord  Roehampton  was  not  in- 
vited, and,  strange  to  say.  Lord  Roehampton,  who  had  tlie 
reputation  of  being  somewhat  difHcult  on  this  h(  id,  always 
accepted  the  invitations.  The  crowning  social  incident,  how- 
ever, was  when  Lord  Roehampton  opened  his  own  house  for 
the  first  time  since  his  widowhood,  and  received  the  Nenchatels 
at  a  banquet  not  inferior  to  their  own.  Tliis  was  a  great  tri- 
nm}>h  for  Lady  ^lontfort,  who  thouc^lit  the  end  was  at  hand. 

"Life  is  short,"  she  said  to  Lord  Roeliampton  that  evening. 
"  Why  not  settle  it  to-night  ?" 

"Well,"  said  Lord  Roeluim2)ton,  ''you  know  I  never  like 
anything  precipitate.  Besides,  why  should  tlie  citadel  sur- 
render when  I  have  hardly  entered  on  my  first  parallel  ?  " 

"Ah  !  those  are  old-fashioned  tactics"  said  Lady  ^lontfort, 

"Well,  I  suppose  I  am  an  old-fashioned  man." 

"  Be  serious,  now.  I  want  it  settled  before  Easter.  I  must 
go  down  to  my  lord  then,  and  even  before  ;  and  I  should  like 
to  see  this  settled  before  we  separate." 

"Why  does  not  Montfort  come  np  to  town?"  said  Lord 
Roehampton.     "  He  is  wanted." 

"Well,"  said  Lady  Montfort,  with  half  a  sigh,  "it  is  no 
use  talking  about  it.  He  will  not  come  Our  society  bores 
him,  and  he  must  be  amused.  I  write  to  him  every  day,  and 
sometimes  twice  a  day,  and  pass  my  life  in  collecting  things  to 
interest  him.  I  would  never  leave  him  for  a  moment,  only  I 
know  then  that  ho  would  get  wearied  of  me  ;  and  he  thinks 
now — at  least,  he  once  said  so — that  he  has  never  had  a  dull 
moment  in  my  company." 

"How  can  he  find  amusement  in  the  country  ?"  said  Lord 
Roehampton.  "There  is  no  sport  now.  and  a  man  can  not 
always  be  reading  French  novels."  • 


172 


EXD  VMIOX 


i 


fi 


',■*: 


I 


"  Well,  I  send  amii,-»iiig  people  cl(3wii  to  him,"  said  Bercn- 
^jiiria.  **  It  is  diilicult  to  arrange,  for  he  tlocs  not  like  toadies, 
which  is  ^o  iinrca.^onahle,  tor  I  know  many  toadies  who  arc 
very  pleasant.  Treeby  is  with  him  now,  and  that  is  excellent, 
for  Treehv  contradicts  him,  and  is  scientific  as  Avcll  as  fashion- 
able,  and  gives  I'.im  the  last  news  of  the  sun  as  avcII  as  of  While's. 
I  want  to  get  this  great  African  traveler  to  go  down  to  him  ; 
hut  one  can  hardly  send  a  jierfoct  stranger  as  a  guest.  I  want- 
ed Trcehy  to  take  him,  but  Treeby  refused — men  arc  so  selfish. 
Treeby  could  have  left  him  iliere,  and  the  traveler  might  have 
remained  a  week,  told  all  he  had  seen,  and  as  much  more  us 


th 


he  liked.  ^ly  lord  can  not  .-tand  Treeby  more  man  two  uays, 
and  Treeby  can  not  stand  Uiy  lord  for  a  longer  period,  and  that 
is  why  they  arc  such  friends. " 

"  A  sound  basis  of  agreement,''  said  Lord  Koohampton.  "  I 
believe  absence  is  often  a  great  element  of  charm." 

''But,  a  nos  moutons,"  resumed  Lady  Montfort.  "You 
sec  noAV  why  I  am  so  anxious  for  a  conclusion  of  our  affair.  I 
think  it  is  ripe  I" 

"  Why  do  you  ?''  said  Lord  Iiochanipton. 

"Well,  she  must  be  very  much  in  love  with  you." 

"  Has  she  told  you  so  ? '' 

"Xo  ;  but  she  looks  in  love." 

"She  never  has  told  me  so,"  said  Lord  Kochampton. 

"Have  you  told  her?" 

"  Well,  I  have  not,"  said  her  companion.  "  I  like  the  fam- 
ily— all  of  them.  I  like  Xeuchatel  particularly.  I  like  his 
house  and  style  of  living.  You  always  meet  nice  people  there, 
and  hear  the  last  thing  that  has  been  said  or  done  all  over  the 
world.     It  is  a  house  where  you  arc  sure  not  to  be  dull." 

"  You  have  described  a  perfect  homo,"  said  Lady  Montfort, 
"and  it  awaits  yon." 

"Well,  I  do  not  know%"  said  Lord  Eoeliampton.  "Per- 
haps I  am  fastidious,  perhaps  I  am  content ;  to  be  noticed 
sometimes  by  a  Lady  Montfort  should,  I  think,  satisfy  any 


man. 


J5 


"  Well,  that  is  gallant,  but  it  is  not  business,  my  dear  lord. 
You  can  count  on  my  devotion  even  when  you  arc  married; 


•# 


r  . 


WA  L  DKIiSlfA  li K ' .V   U E ITUX. 


1T;{ 


but  I  want  to  j^ce  vou  on  ti  i)innaek',  so  tluit  if  r.iivlliinLr  lur,)- 
jKJns  tlierc  sluill  be  no  fiuestion  who  is  to  bo  the  lir^^t  man  in 
this  country.'' 


CHAPTER   XL. 


(C 


itfort, 


lord, 
•ricd ; 


The  mooting  of  Parliamont  oaii-od  also  the  rotnrn  of  Wal- 
dor.-luirc  to  England,  and  Ijroughl  life  and  enjoyment  to  our 
friends  in  "Warwick  Street,  WaMorshare  had  not  taken  his 
};eat  in  the  autumn  session.  After  the  general  eleetion,  lie  had 
gone  abroad  with  Lord  Beaumaris,  the  young  nobleman  wlio 
had  taken  them  to  the  Derbv.  and  they  liad  seen  ami  done 
many  strange  things.  During  all  ihoir  i)eregrinations,  how- 
ever, AValdershare  maintained  a  constant  correspondence  with 
Imogene,  occusionally  seiuling  her  a  choice  volume,  Avhich  kIic 
was  not  only  to  read,  but  to  prove  her  perusal  of  it  by  forward- 
ing to  him  a  criticism  of  its  content-. 

Endymion  Avas  too  much  i)leased  to  moot  Waldorshare  again, 
and  told  him  of  the  kind  of  intimacy  ho  had  formed  with  Colo- 
nel Albert  and  all  about  the  baron.  Waldershare  was  much 
interested  in  these  details,  and  it  was  arranged  tliat  an  oi»por- 
tunity  should  be  taken  to  make  the  colonel  and  "Waklersharc 
acquainted. 

This,  however,  Avas  not  an  easy  result  to  bring  aliout,  for 
"Waldershare  insisted  on  its  not  occurring  formally,  and  as  the 
colonel  maintained  the  utmost  reserA'c  Avith  the  household, 
and  Endymion  had  no  room  of  reception,  Aveeks  i)assod  over 
Avithout  Waldershare  knoAving  more  of  Colo'iel  Albert  person- 
ally than  sometimes  occasionally  seeing  him  mou^U  his  horse. 

In  the  mean  time  life  in  "WarAvick  Street,  so  far  as  uie  IJod- 
ncy  family  Avere  concerned,  appeared  to  have  reassumed  its 
pleasant,  and  what  perhaps  we  are  authorized  in  styling  its 
normal  condition.  They  went  to  the  play  tAvo  or  three  times 
a  AATok,  and  there  "Waldershare  or  Lord  Beaumaris,  freipiontly 
both,  ahvays  joined  them  ;  a^id  then  they  came  home  to  sup- 
per, and  then  they  smoked;  and  sometimes  there  AA'as  a  little 
.singing,  and  sometimes  a  little  Avhist.     Occasionally  there  AA'as 


U( 


Hi 


U   '1  i 


!  . 


1) 

<  1 

1    ■ .'' 
<  1 

1      -1 

1 

1 4 

1 

^H 

174: 


EXDYMIOX. 


only  conversation,  tlm'^  is  to  say,  AValderslmrc  held  forth,  diliit- 
.ng  on  some  wondrous  tlicme,  full  of  historical  anecdote  and 
daz/Jing  i)aradox,  and  hai)py  phrase.  All  listened  with  inter- 
est, even  those  who  did  not  understand  him.  Much  of  his 
talk  was  addressed  really  to  Beaumaris,  Avhose  mind  he  was 
forminu',  as  well  as  that  of  Imoo-one.  Beaumaris  was  an  liered- 
itary  Whig,  but  had  not  personally  committed  himself,  and 
the  ambition  of  Waldcrshare  was  to  transform  him  not  only 
into  a  Tory,  but  one  of  the  old  rock,  a  real  Jacobite.  '*'  Is  not 
tlie  Tory  part}*,"  "Waldcrshare  would  exclaim,  ^'  a  succession  of 
heroic  spirits,  'beautiful  and  swift,'  ever  in  the  van,  and  fore- 
most of  their  age  ? — Ilobbes  and  Bolingbroke,  Hume  and 
Adam  Smith,  Wyndliani  and  Cobham,  Pitt  and  Grenville, 
Canning  and  lluskisson  ? — Arc  not  the  principles  of  Toryism 
those  popular  rights  which  men  like  Shippin  and  Tlynde  Cot- 
ton Hung  in  the  face  of  \x\\  alien  monarch  and  his  mushroom 
aristocracy  ? — Place  bills,  triennial  bills,  opposition  to  standing- 
armies,  to  peerage  bills  ? — Are  not  the  traditions  of  the  Tory 
party  the  noblest  ixdigree  in  the  world  ?  Are  not  its  illustra- 
tions tliat  gloi'ious  martyrology,  that  opens  with  the  name  of 
Falkland  and  clones  with  the  name  of  Canning  ?  " 

'*I  believe  it  is  all  true,"  Avhispered  Lord  Beaumaris  to 
Sylvia,  who  had  really  never  heard  of  any  of  these  gentlemen 
before,  but  looked  most  sweet  and  sympathetic. 

''  lie  is  a  wonderful  man — Mr.  Waldcrshare,"  said  Mr.  Vioo 
to  Rodney,  ''but  I  fear  not  practical." 

One  day,  not  very  long  after  his  return  from  his  travels, 
Waldcrshare  went  to  breakfast  with  his  uncle,  Mr.  Sidney  AVil- 
ton,  now  a  cabinet  minister,  still  unmarried,  and  living  in 
(Jrosvenor  Square.  Xotwithstanding  the  difference  of  their 
])olitics,  an  atl'ectionatc  intimacy  subsisted  between  ti>em  ;  in- 
deed, Waldcrshare  was  a  favorite  of  his  uncle,  who  enjoyed  the 
fresliness  of  his  mind,  and  quite  appreciated  his  brilliancy  of 
thought  and  s})cecli,  his  (juaini  reading  and  cfTcrvescent  imagi- 
nation. 

*'And  so  you  think  we  are  in  for  life,  George,"  said  Mr. 
Wilton,  taking  a  piece  of  toast.     "  I  do  not." 

"Well,  I  go  upon  this,"  said  Waldersluirj.     "It  is  quite 


; 


WALDKRSirARE  A  XT)  JUS   CXCLK. 


175 


i 


clear  tliat  Peel  has  nothing  to  otTer  tlio  country,  and  tlie  coun- 
try will  not  rally  round  a  negation.  When  lie  failed  in  '34 
they  said  there  had  not  been  sufficient  time  for  the  reaction  to 
work.  Well  now,  since  then,  it  has  had  nearly  three  years, 
during  which  you  fellows  have  done  everything  to  outrage 
every  prejudice  of  the  constituency,  and  yet  they  have  given 
you  a  majority." 

"Yes,  that  is  all  very  well,"  replied  ]Mr.  Wilton,  ''but  we 
art.'  the  Liberal  shop,  and  we  have  no  Liberal  goods  on  hand  ; 
we  are  the  party  of  movement  and  must  perforce  stand  still. 
The  fact  is,  all  the  great  questions  are  settled.  No  one  will 
Inirn  his  fingers  with  the  L-isli  Church  again,  in  this  generation 
certainly  not,  })robably  in  no  other  ;  you  could  not  get  ten  men 
together  in  any  part  of  the  country  to  consider  the  corn  laws  ; 
I  must  confess  I  regret  it.  I  still  retain  my  oi)inion  that  a 
moderate  fixed  duty  would  be  a  Avise  arrangement,  but  I  (piitc 
despair  in  my  time  of  any  such  advance  of  opinion  ;  as  for  the 
ballot,  it  is  hardly  tolerated  in  debating  societies.  The  present 
government,  my  dear  CJeorge,  will  expire  from  inanition.  I 
always  told  the  cabinet  they  were  going  on  too  fast.  They 
should  have  kept  back  municipal  reform.  It  Avould  have  car- 
ried us  on  for  five  years.  It  Avas  our  only  ^;/6re  cle  resis- 
tance.''' 

^'  I  look  upon  the  House  of  Commons  as  a  mere  vestry," 
said  "Waldershare.  ""'  I  believe  it  to  be  comi)letely  used  up. 
IJeforni  has  dished  it.  There  are  no  men,  and  naturally,  be- 
cause the  constituencies  elect  themselves,  and  the  constituencies 
are  the  most  mediocre  of  the  nation.  The  IIou.-c  of  Commons 
now  is  like  a  spendthrift  living  on  his  capital.  The  business 
is  done  and  the  speeches  arc  made  by  men  formed  in  the  old 
school.  The  influence  of  the  House  of  Commons  is  mainly 
kept  up  by  old  social  traditions.  I  believe  if  the  eldest  sons 
of  peers  now  members  would  all  accept  the  Chiltern  hundreds, 
and  the  house  thus  cease  to  be  fashionable,  before  a  year  was 
l)ast,  it  would  be  as  odious  and  as  contemptible  as  the  Iiump 
Parliament." 

*'  Well,  you  are  now  the  eldest  son  of  a  peer,"  said  Sidney 
Wilton,  smiling.    '*  Why  do  you  not  set  an  example,  instead  of 


■  f 


ITG 


EXDYJJIOX. 


spending  your  father's  siib-tancc  and  your  own  in  fighting  ti 
corrupt  horough  ?  " 

'"  I  am  vox  clamant Is,'^  said  AValdersharc.  ''  I  do  not  de- 
ppnir  of  its  being  done.  But  wliat  I  want  is  some  hig  guns  to 
do  it.  Let  the  eldest  son  of  a  Tory  duke  and  the  eldest  son  of 
a  Whig  duke  do  the  thing  on  the  same  day,  and  give  the  reason 
Avhy.  If  Saxmundham,  for  example,  and  Ilarlaxton  would  do 
it,  the  game  would  be  up." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Mr.  Wilton,  ''  Saxmundham,  I 
can  toll  you,  Avill  be  the  new  cabinet  minister." 

"Degenerate  land!"  exclaimed  Waldcrsharc.  ''Ah!  in 
the  eighteenth  century  there  was  always  a  cause  to  sustain  the 
political  genius  of  the  country — the  cause  of  the  rightful  dy- 
nasty ! " 

''Well,  thank  God,  we  have  got  rid  of  all  those  troubles," 
said  Mr.  Wilton. 

"  Eid  of  them  !  I  do  not  know  that.  I  saw  a  great  deal 
of  the  Duke  of  Modena  this  year,  and  tried  as  well  as  I  could 
to  open  his  mind  to  the  situation." 

'' You  traitor  !"  exclaimed  ]\[r.  Wilton.  ''If  I  vrerc  Sec- 
retary of  State,  I  would  order  the  butler  to  arrest  you  imme- 
diately, and  send  you  to  the  Tower  in  a  hack  cab  ;  but  as  I  am 
only  a  President  of  a  Board  and  your  uncle,  you  will  escape." 

"  Well,  I  should  think  all  sensible  men,"  said  Waldershare, 
*'of  all  parties  will  agree,  that  before  we  try  a  republic,  it 
■would  be  better  to  give  a  chance  to  the  rightful  heir." 

"Well,  I  am  not  a  republican,"  said  Mr.  Wilton,  "and  I 
think  Queen  Victoria,  particularly  if  she  make  a  wise  and 
Iiappy  marriage,  need  not  much  fear  the  Duke  of  Modena." 

"  He  is  our  sovereign  lord,  all  the  same,"  said  Waldershare. 
*'  I  wish  he  were  more  aware  of  it  himself.  Instead  of  looking 
to  a  restoration  to  his  throne,  1  found  him  always  harping  on 
the  fear  of  French  invasion.  I  could  not  make  him  under- 
stand that  Franco  vras  his  natural  ally,  and  that  without  her 
help,  Charlie  was  not  likely  to  have  his  own  again." 

"Well,  as  you  admire  pretenders,  George,  I  wish  you  v.ere 
in  my  shoes  this  morning,  for  I  have  got  one  of  the  most  disa- 
greeable interviews  on  hand  which  ever  fell  to  my  lot." 


-;  . 


.'J 


•>? 


A'.'cro 

(li.-'ii- 


J/A'.    W/LTOX'S    ir.l /!•/>. 


ITT 


» 


''  How  FO,  my  dctir  uncle  ? "'  .-aid  Waldersliaro,  in  a  tunc  of 
Fvnipatliv,  for  lie  paw  that  the  countenance  of  ^[r.  "Wilton  was 
disturbed. 

'Oly  unhappy  ward,"  said  Mr.  "Wilton;  '•3-ou  know,  of 
course,  something  about  him."' 

''  "Well,  I  was  at  school  and  college/'  said  "Waldersharo, 
''when  it  all  happened.  But  T  luivc  just  heard  that  you  had 
relations  with  him.'' 

'^The  most  intimate;  and  there  is  the  bitterness.  There 
existed  between  his  mother  Queen  Agrippina  and  myself  tics 
of  entire  friendship.  In  her  last  years  and  in  her  greatest  ad- 
versity she  appealed  to  mc  to  be  the  guardian  of  her  son.  lie 
inherited  all  licr  beauty  and  api)arcntly  all  her  sweetness  of 
disposition.  I  took  the  greatest  pains  Avith  him.  lie  was  at 
Eton,  and  did  Avell  there.  lie  was  very  popular  ;  I  never  vras 
so  deceived  in  a  boy  in  my  life.  I  thought  him  the  most  do- 
cile of  human  beings,  and  that  I  had  gained  over  him  an  entiro 
inlluencc.  I  am  sure  it  Avould  have  been  exercised  for  his  bene- 
fit. In  short,  I  may  say  it  noAV,  I  looked  ujiOii  him  as  a  son, 
and  he  certainly  would  have  been  my  heir  ;  and  yet  all  this 
time,  from  his  seventeenth  year,  he  was  immersed  in  political 
intrigue,  and  carrying  on  plots  against  the  sovereign  of  his 
country,  even  under  my  own  roof." 

'•IIow  very  interesting  !"  said  "Waldershare. 

"It  may  be  interesting  to  you  ;  I  knovr  what  it  eo-t  mo. 
The  greatest  anxiety  and  sorrow,  and  even  nearly  compromised 
my  honor.  Had  I  not  a  large-hearted  chief  and  a  true  man  of 
the  world  to  deal  with,  I  must  have  retired  from  Jie  govern- 
ment." 

''How  could  he  manage  it  ?"  said  "Waldershare. 

"You  have  no  conception  of  the  devices  and  resources  of 
the  secret  societies  of  Europe,"  said  Mr.  "Wilton.  "His  draw- 
ing master,  his  fencing  master,  his  dancing  master,  all  his  i)ro- 
fessors  of  languages,  who  delighted  me  by  their  testimony  to 
his  accomplishments  and  their  praises  of  his  quickness  and  as- 
siduity, Avere  active  confederates  in  bringing  about  events  which 
might  have  occasioned  a  European  Avar.  He  left  me  avowedly 
to  pay  a  visit  in  the  country,  tmd  I  even  received  letters  from 


^Js. 


ITS 


EXDYMIOX. 


him  Avitli  the  po.'itmiirk  of  tlic  neighboring  town  ;  letters  all 
pveixired  beforeluind.  My  first  authentic  inforniation  as  to  his 
movements  was  to  learn,  that  he  had  headed  an  invading  force, 
landed  on  the  shores  which  he  claimed  as  his  own,  -was  defeated 
and  a  prisoner.'' 

"I  remember  it/'  said  Waldershare.  "I  had  just  then 
gone  up  to  St.  John's,  and  I  remember  reading  it  with  the 
greatest  excitement." 

"All  this  was  bad  enough,"  said  Mr.  Wilton,  '^'but  this  is 
not  my  sorrow.  I  saved  him  from  dei' 'h,  or  at  least  a  dreadful 
imprisonment.  lie  was  permitted  to  lil  to  America  on  his 
parole  that  he  would  never  return  to  "Europe,  and  I  was  re- 
{piired,  and  on  his  solemn  appeal  I  consented,  to  give  my  per- 
sonal engagement  that  the  compact  should  be  sacred.  Before 
two  years  had  elapsed,  supported  all  tb.is  time,  too,  by  my 
bounty,  there  was  an  attempt,  almost  successful,  to  assassinate 
the  king,  and  my  ward  was  discovered  and  seized  in  the  cajDital. 
This  time  he  was  immured,  and  for  life,  in  th'^  strongest  for- 
tress of  the  country  ;  but  secret  societies  laugh  i  ^  )vernments, 
and  though  he  endured  a  considerable  imprisonment,  the  world 
has  recently  been  astounded  by  hearing  that  he  had  escaped. 
Yes  ;  he  is  in  London  and  has  been  here,  though  in  studied 
obscurity,  for  some  little  time.  He  has  never  appealed  to  mo 
until  within  these  few  days,  and  noAV  only  on  the  ground  that 
there  are  some  family  affairs  which  can  not  be  arranged 
without  my  approval.  I  had  great  doubts  whether  I  should 
receive  him.  I  feel  I  ought  not  to  have  done  so.  But  I 
hesitated,  and  I  know  not  what  may  be  the  truth  about 
women,  but  of  this  I  am  quite  sure,  the  man  who  hesitates  is 
lost." 

"How  I  should  like  to  be  present  at  the  interview,  my 
dear  uncle,"  said  Waldersharc. 

"And  I  should  not  be  sorry  to  have  a  witness,"  said  Mr. 
Wilton,  "  but  it  is  impossible.  I  am  ashamed  to  say  how  un- 
hinged I  feel ;  no  person,  and  no  memories,  orgh.t  to  exercise 
such  an  influence  over  one.  To  tell  you  the  trvdl\,  I  oucour- 
aged  your  pleasant  gossip  at  breakfast  by  way  of  diplraclion  at 
this  moment,  and  now — " 


if 


my 


i' 


PRINCE  FLO  REST  AX 


170 


At  this  inument,  the  groom  of  tlic  cluimbors  entered  ami 
imnounced  '' Ilis  royal  higliness,  Prince  Flore.^tan." 

Mr.  Wilt^i.,  who  wari  too  agitated  to  sjieak,  waved  his  hand 
to  Waldcrshare  to  retire,  and  his  nephew  vanished.  As  Wal- 
dcrsliare  5vas  descending  the  staircase,  he  drew  hack  on  a  land- 
ing-place to  permit  tlie  f)rince  to  advance  nndisturhcd.  The 
prince  apparently  did  not  observe  him,  bnt  when  Waldcrshare 
caught  the  countenance  of  tlie  visitor,  he  started. 


CHAPTER   XLI. 

''I  Kxow,  sir,  you  are  prejudiced  against  mo,"  said  Prince 
Floresttm,  bowing  before  Mr.  Wilton  with  a  so  t  of  haughty 
humility,  ''and,  therefore,  I  the  more  ap^.  .ate  your  con- 
descension in  receiving  me." 

"I  have  no  Avisli  to  refer  to  the  past,"  said  Mr.  Wilton, 
somewhat  sternly,  ''  You  mentioned  in  your  letter  that  my 
cooperation  Avas  necessary  with  reference  to  your  i)rivate  atTairs, 
of  which  I  once  was  a  trustee,  and  under  those  circumstances 
I  felt  it  my  duty  to  accede  to  your  recpiest.  I  Avish  our  com- 
muni"cation  to  be  limited  to  that  business." 

*'It  shall  be  so  strictly,"  said  the  prince;  ''you  may  re- 
member, sir,  that  at  the  unhappy  period  when  Ave  were  deprived 
<  '.  our  throne,  the  name  of  Queen  Agrippina  Avas  inscribed  on 
the  great  book  of  the  state  for  a  considerable  sum,  for  Avhicli 
the  credit  of  the  state  Avas  i)l^'lccd  to  her.  It  Avas  strictly  her 
priv«^te  property,  and  had  mainly  accrued  through  the  sale  of 
the  estates  of  her  ancestors.  This  sum  was  confiscated,  and 
several  other  amounts,  which  belonged  to  members  of  our  house 
and  to  our  friends,  it  Avas  an  act  of  pure  rapine,  so  gross,  that 
as  time  revolved,  and  the  sense  of  Justice  gradually  returned  to 
the  hearts  of  men,  restitution  was  made  in  every  instance  ex- 
cept my  OAvn,  though  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  individual 
case  Avas  the  strong  '".  My  bankers,  the  house  of  Neuchatel, 
who  have  much  interest^'d  themselves  in  this  matter,  and  have 
considerable  intluence  Aviih  the  government  that  succeeded  us. 


18;) 


LWUVMWX. 


ri 


have  brought  tliingv:  to  tliis  p;i.^s,  that  avc  have  reason  toheliovo 
our  claim  would  be  conceded,  ii'  some  of  the  foreign  govern- 
iiient>',  and  especially  tlie  government  of  this  country,  would 
signify  that  the  f-ettlement  would  not  be  disagreeable  to  them." 
And  the  prince  ceasetl,  an.d  raising  his  eyes,  which  were  down- 
cast as  lie  spoke,  looked  Mr.  AVilton  straight  in  the  face. 

'•Before  such  a  proposal  could  even  be  considered  by  Her 
Majesty'o  Oiovcrnment,"  said  Mr.  Wilton  with  a  reddening 
cheek,  ''the  intimation  must  bo  made  to  them  by  authority. 
If  the  minister  of  your  country  has  such  an  intim;ition  to  make 
to  ours,  he  sliould  address  himself  to  the  pro})cr  quarter,  to 
Lord  Ivoehampton." 

"■  I  imder.-tand/'  said  Prince  Florestan  ;  '•'  but  governments, 
like  indivJiUials,  sometimes  shrink  from  formality.  Tlie  gov- 
ernment of  my  country  will  act  on  the  intimation,  but  they  do 
not  care  to  make  it  an  aliair  of  dispatches." 

''There  is  only  one  way  of  transacting  business,"  said  ^Mr. 
"Wilton,  frigidly,  and  as  if,  ku  far  as  he  vras  concerned,  the  in- 
terview was  ended. 

''I  have  been  advised  on  high  authority,"  said  Prince 
Florestan,  speaking  very  sloAvly,  *'  that  if  any  member  of  the 
present  cabinet  will  mention  in  conversation  to  the  representa- 
tive of  my  country  here,  that  the  act  of  justice  would  iiot  be 
disagreeable  to  the  British  Government,  the  affair  is  finished." 

"  I  doubt  Avhether  any  one  of  my  colleagues  would  be  i)rc- 
pared  to  undertake  a  personal  interference  of  that  kind  with  a 
foreign  government/"  said  ^h\  Wilton,  stiffly.  'Tor  my  own 
part,  I  have  had  quite  enough  of  such  interpositions  never  to 
venture  on  them  again." 

"The  expression  of  feeling  desired  would  involve  no  sort 
of  engagement,"  said  the  imperturbable  prince. 

"That  depends  on  the  conscience  of  the  individual  who  in- 
terferes. Xo  man  of  honor  would  be  justified  in  so  interposing 
if  he  believed  he  was  thus  furnishing  arms  against  the  very 
government  of  which  l\o  ;  elicited  the  favor." 

"  But  why  should  he  believe  this  i' "  nskcd  the  prince  Avith 
great  calmness. 

"I  think,  upon  refit    tion."  said  Mr.  Wilton,  taking  up  at 


1   i 


1? 


rilE  CHILD    OF  DKSTIXY 


ISl 


I 


110  sort 

hio  in- 
[posing 
le  very 

le  with 

I    Uj)   !lt 


f 


the  same  time  an  ojiciictl  letter  -which  wa<  1)efore  liim,  jh  if  lie 
wished  to  resume  the  private  hiLsiuess  on  which  lie  had  hecii  pre- 
viously engaged,  '•'that  your  royal  liighness  miglit  liiid  very 
adequate  reasons  for  the  helief.'' 

"I  vrould  put  this  before  you  with  great  deference,  sir," 
gaid  the  prince.  "Take  my  own  ca>c  ;  i.s  it  not  more  lilvcly 
that  I  should  lead  that  life  of  refined  retirement,  wliich  T  really 
desire,  Averc  I  in  possession  of  the  means  to  maintain  such  a 
position  witli  hecoming  dignity,  than  if  I  were  distressed,  and 
harassed,  and  di^gU3ted,  every  day,  with  sights  and  incidents 
which  alike  outrage  my  taste  and  self-respect  ?  It  is  not  y)ros- 
perity,  according  to  coriimon  belief,  that  makes  conspirators." 

"You  iccrc  in  a  position,  and  a  refined  position,"'  rejoined 
Mr.  Wilton  sharply;  "von  had  means  adequate  to  all  that  a 
gentleman  could  desire,  and  miglit  have  been  a  person  of  great 
consideration,  and  you  wantonly  destroyed  all  this." 

"It  might  be  remembered  that  I  Avas  young." 

"Yes,  you  were  young,  very  young,  and  your  folly  was 
condoned.  You  might  have  began  life  again,  for  to  the  world 
at  least  you  Avcre  a  man  of  honor.  You  had  not  deceived  the 
\\ Di'ld,  whatever  you  might  have  done  to  others." 

"If  I  presume  to  make  another  remark,"  said  the  prince, 
calmly,  but  pale,  "  it  is  only,  believe  rao,  sir,  from  the  profound 
rcs})cct  I  feel  for  you.  Po  not  misunderstand  these  feelings, 
sir.  They  are  not  unbecoming  the  past.  Xow  that  my  mother 
has  departed,  there  is  no  one  to  whom  I  am  attached  except 
yourself.  I  have  no  feeling  whatever  toAvard  any  other  human 
being.  All  my  thought  and  all  my  sentiment  are  engrossed  by 
my  country.  But  pardon  me,  dear  sir,  for  so  let  me  call  you, 
if  I  venture  to  say  that,  in  your  decision  on  my  conduct,  you 
have  never  taken  into  consideration  the  position  which  I  in- 
herited." 

"I  do  not  follow  you,  sir." 

"You  never  will  remember,  liiat  I  am  tlie  child  of  destiny," 
said  Prince  Florcstan.  "  That  destiny  Avill  again  place  me  on 
tlie  throne  of  my  fathers.  That  is  as  certain  as  I  am  now 
speaking  to  you.  But  destiny  for  its  fuinilment  ordains  action. 
Its  decrees  arc  inexorable,  but  they  are  obscure,  and  the  being 


182 


END  Y MI  OX. 


TvliosG  ctirccr  it  directs  is  as  a  man  traveling  in  a  dark  niglit ; 
he  readies  his  goal  even  -without  the  aid  of  stars  or  moon." 
*'  I  really  do  not  understand  what  destijij  means,"  ,^aid  Mr. 
■'I  understand  what  conduct  means,  and  I  recoirnize 


Wilton. 


that  it  should  be  regulated  by  truth  and  honor.  I  think  a  man 
hiid  better  have  nothing  to  do  with  destiny,  i)articularly  if  it  is 
to  make  him  forfeit  his  parole." 

"  Ah  !  sir,  I  well  knoAV  that  on  that  head  you  entertain  a 
great  iircjudice  in  my  respect.  Believe  me,  it  is  not  Just.  Even 
lawyers  acknowledge  that  a  contract  which  is  impossible  can 
not  be  violated.  ]\[y  return  from  America  was  inevitable.  Tho 
aspirations  of  a  great  people  and  of  many  communities  required 
my  presence  in  Europe.  i\ly  return  was  the  natural  develo[^- 
mcnt  of  the  irresistible  principle  of  historical  necessity." 

"  Well,  that  principle  is  not  recognized  by  Tier  Majesty's 
Ministers,"  said  Mr.  Wilton,  and  both  himself  and  the  prince 
seemed  to  rise  at  the  same  time. 

"I  thank  you,  sir,  for  this  interview,"  said  his  royal  high- 
ness. ''You  will  not  help  mc,  but  what  T  require  will  happen 
by  some  other  means.  It  U  necessary,  and  therefore  it  will 
occur." 

The  prince  remounted  his  horse,  and  rode  off  quickly  till 
he  reached  the  Strand,  where  obstacles  to  rapid  progress  com- 
menced, and  though  impatient,  it  was  some  time  before  ho 
reached  Bishopsgate  Street.  He  entered  the  spacious  court- 
)'ard  of  ii  noble  mansion,  and  giving  his  horse  to  the  groom, 
inquired  for  Mr.  Neuchatel,  to  whom  he  was  at  once  ushered 
— seated  in  a  fine  apartment  at  a  table  covered  with  many 
papers. 

"Well,  my  prince,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatcl,  with  a  smiling 
DVP,  'MVliat  hviligH  t^iioli  a  great  man  into  the  City  to-day? 
Itttve  J'Oii  seen  yo\\\  q\v\\[  fl'iullllV"  And  tlien  Prince  Flo- 
I'l'Hlaii  giivp  Mr  Nli||li||Hi^(  \\  sUcblUct  but  sufficier.fc  summary  of 
his  recent  interview. 

"Ah  !"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel,  "so  it  is,  so  it  is  ;  I  dare  say 
if  you  were  received  at  St.  James',  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  would 
not  be  so  very  particular  ;  but  we  must  take  things  us  we  find 
them.     If  our  fine  friends  will  not  help  us,  you  must  try  us 


iling 

ay  ? 

Flo- 

y  of 


i 


V" 


J 


A    irOXDROlTS   TALE. 


18:J 


poor  business  men  in  the  City.  We  can  manage  things  lieiv 
sometimes  which  puzzle  tliem  at  the  We.it  End.  I  saw  you 
were  disturbed  when  you  came  in.  Put  on  a  good  countenance. 
Nobody  shoukl  ever  look  anxious  except  tliose  who  have  no 
anxiety.  I  dare  say  you  would  like  to  know  how  your  account 
is.  I  will  send  i'or  it.  It  is  not  so  bad  as  you  think.  I  i)ut  a 
tliou>!and  ])ounds  to  it  in  tlie  hopes  that  your  flue  frienu  would 
help  us,  but  I  shall  not  take  it  olT  again.  M3  J^ouls  Is  going 
to-night  to  Paris,  and  lio  .shall  call  upon  the  ministers  and  see 
what  can  he  done.  In  the  mean  time,  good  a])petite,  sir.  I 
am  going  to  luncheon,  and  there  is  a  place  for  you.  And  I 
will  show  you  my  Gainsborough  that  1  have  just  bought,  from 
a  family  for  whom  it  was  painted.  The  face  is  divine,  very 
like  our  Miss  Ferrars.  I  am  going  to  send  the  picture  down 
to  llainault.  I  won't  tell  you  what  I  gave  for  it,  because  per- 
haps you  would  tell  my  wife  and  she  would  be  very  angry. 
She  would  want  the  money  for  an  infant  school.  But  I  think 
she  has  schools  enough.     Now  to  lunch." 

On  the  afternoon  of  this  day  there  was  half-holiday  at  the 
oilice,  and  Eudymion  had  engaged  i;o  accompany  AValdershare 
on  some  expedition.  They  had  been  talking  together  in  his 
room  where  Waldershare  was  finishing  his  careless  toilet, 
which  however  was  never  finished,  and  they  hr.d  just  opened 
the  house-door  and  were  sallying  forth  when  Colonel  Albert 
rode  up.  He  gave  a  kind  nod  to  Endymion  but  did  not  speak, 
and  the  companions  went  on.  *'  By  the  by,  Ferrars,"  said  Wal- 
dershare, pressing  his  arm  and  bubbling  with,  excitement,  ''I 
have  found  out  who  your  colonel  is.  It  is  a  wondrous  talc  and 
I  will  tell  it  all  to  you  as  we  go  on." 


us 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

ExDYMiox  had  now  passed  three  years  of  his  life  in  Lon- 
don, and  considering  the  hard  circumstances  under  which  ho 
had  commenced  this  career,  he  might  on  the  whole  look  back 
to  tliose  years  without  dissatisfaction.     Three  years  ago  he  was 


181 


j:xdymion. 


't,  ! 


poor  1111(1  fi-ieiullcss!,  utterly  ignonuit  of  the  world,  and  wilii 
iiotliing  to  guide  liim  but  his  own  good  sense.  J  lis  slender 
salary  had  not  yet  hecn  increased,  hut  with  the  generosity  and 
jiid.  of  his  sister  and  tlio  libcralit  \  of  ]\ri'.  Vigo,  he  was  easy  in 
liis  circumstances.  Through  the  Kodneys,  he  had  become  ac- 
^juainted  with  a  certain  sort  of  miscellaneous  life,  a  knov.dedgc 
of  which  is  highly  valuable  to  a  youth,  but  wliich  is  seldom  at- 
tained without  risk.  Endymion,  on  the  contrary,  was  always 
guarded  from  danger.  Through  his  most  unexpected  connec- 
tion Avith  the  Xeuchatel  family,  he  had  seen  something  of  life 
in  circles  of  rerinement  and  high  consideration,  and  had  even 
caught  glimp.-es  of  that  great  world  of  wliich  he  read  so  mucli 
and  heard  peoido  talk  more,  the  world  of  the  Lord  Roehamp- 
tons  and  the  Lady  ^Montforts,  and  all  those  da/.zling  people 
whose  sayings  and  doings  form  the  taste,  and  supply  the  con- 
versation, and  leaver  the  existence  of  jidmiring  or  wondering 
millions. 

None  of  these  incidents,  however,  had  induced  any  change 
in  the  scheme  of  his  existence.  Endymion  was  still  content 
with  his  cleanly  and  airy  garret ;  still  dined  at  Joe's ;  was  still 
sedulous  at  his  office,  aud  always  popular  with  his  fellow- 
clerks.  Seymour  Hicks,  indeed,  who  studied  the  'OForning 
Post "  with  intentness,  had  discovered  the  name  of  Endymion 
in  the  elaborate  lists  of  attendants  on  ]\rrs.  Xeuchatel's  rcccj)- 
tions,  and  had  duly  notified  the  important  event  to  his  col- 
leagues ;  but  Endymion  was  not  severely  bantered  on  the  occa- 
sion, for,  since  the  withdrawal  of  St.  Barbe  from  the  bureau, 
the  stock  of  envy  at  Somerset  House  was  sensibly  diminished. 

His  lodgings  at  the  Rodneys,  however,  had  brought  Endym- 
ion something  more  valuable  than  an  innocuous  familiarity 
Avith  their  various  and  suggestive  life.  In  the  friendship  of 
AValdershare,  he  found  a  rich  compensation  for  being  withdrawn 
from  his  school  and  deprived  of  his  University.  The  care  of 
his  father  had  made  Endymion  a  good  classical  scholar,  and  he 
had  realized  a  degree  of  culture  which  it  delighted  the  brilliant 
and  eccentric  Waldershare  to  enrich  and  to  complete.  Walder- 
share  guided  his  opinions,  and  directed  his  studies,  and  formed 
his  taste.     Alone  at  night  in  his  garret,  there  was  no  solitude, 


j 


IX  FL  UENTIA  L  A  CQ  FA  IX1\  1 XCES. 


1S5 


mid  wiiii 
.s  .slciulcr 
:)sity  and 
IS  easy  in 
'como  ac- 
nov.'lcdu'O 
.'Idom  al- 
ls always 
I  conncc- 
12^  of  lil'o 
had  even 
so  much 
voeliamp- 
ig  people 
the  con- 
ondcring 

y  change 
I  content 
I  was  still 
fellow- 
^forning 
ndymiou 
s  rcco})- 
hi.s  col- 
lie occa- 
burcan, 
nishcd. 
Eiidym- 
niliavity 
Isliip  of 
ihdrawn 
care  of 
and  he 
jrilliant 
Waldcr- 
formcd 
olitude, 


'!  . 


for  ho  liad  ;il\vays  some  booh  or  sonio  })criodical,  English  or 
foix'ign,  Avith  whicli  Waldersliaro  Jiad  supplied  him,  and  which 
he  assured  Endyniion  it  was  absolutely  necessary  that  he  should 
read  and  master. 

Xor  was  his  acquaintance  with  Baron  Sergius  less  valuable, 
or  less  fruitful  of  results.  He  too  bee;; »ne  interested  in  En- 
dyniion, and  poured  forth  to  him,  api>arently  without  reserve, 
all  the  treasures  of  his  vast  experience  of  men  and  things, 
especially  Avith  reference  to  the  <  )iiil  ict  of  external  all'airs. 
lie  initiated  him  in  the  cardinal  principles  of  the  policies  of 
ditlercnt  nations  ;  he  revealed  to  him  the  real  character  of  the 
chief  actors  in  the  scene.  *'  The  lirst  requisite,"  Baron  Sergius 
would  say,  '''  in  the  successful  conduct  of  public  affairs  is  a 
personal  actpiaintance  with  the  statesmen  engaged.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  events  may  not  depend  now,  so  much  as  they  did  a 
century  ago,  on  individual  feeling,  but,  even  if  prompted  by 
general  principles,  their  ai)plication  and  management  arc  al- 
ways colored  by  the  idiosyncrasy  of  the  chief  actors.  The 
great  advantage  which  your  Lord  ]ioeliam})ton,  for  exain])le, 
has  over  all  his  colleagues  in  hi  haute  politique,  is  that  he  was 
one  of  your  plenipotentiaries  at  the  Congress  of  A'ienna. 
There  he  leai'ued  to  gauge  the  men  who  govern  the  v.-orld. 
Do  you  think  a  man  like  that,  called  upon  to  deal  with  a  Met- 
ternich  or  a  I'o/zo,  has  no  advantage  over  an  individual  avIio 
never  leaves  his  chair  in  Downing  Street  except  to  kill  grouse  ? 
Pah  !  Mctternich  and  Pozzo  knoAV  very  well  that  Lonl  IJoe- 
hampton  knoAvs  them,  and  they  set  about  affairs  Avith  him  in  a 
totally  dilTerent  spirit  from  that  Avith  Avliich  they  circumvent 
some  statesman  Avho  has  issued  from  the  barricades  of  Paris." 

Xor  must  it  be  forgotten  that  his  debating  society  and  the 
ac((uaintancc  AA'hich  he  had  formed  there,  AA'cre  highly  bene- 
ficial to  Endymion.  Under  the  roof  of  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaino 
he  enjoyed  the  opportunity  of  forming  an  acquaintance  Avith  a 
large  body  of  young  men  of  breeding,  of  high  education,  and 
full  of  ambition,  that  was  a  substitute  for  the  society,  becom- 
ing his  youth  and  station,  AA'hich  he  had  lost  by  not  going  io 
the  UniA'ersity. 

With  all  these  individuals,  and  Avith  all  their  circles,  En- 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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1.25 


If  IM  IIIM 

■^  1^    III  2.2 


i.8 


U    1 1.6 


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Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

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186 


ENDWMION. 


dymion  was  a  favorite.  No  doubt  liis  good  looks,  his  mien — 
which  was  both  cheerful  and  pensive,  his  graceful  and  quiet 
manners,  all  told  in  his  favor,  and  gave  him  a  good  start,  but 
further  acquaintance  always  sustained  the  first  impression. 
He  was  intelligent  and  well-informed,  without  any  alarming 
originality,  or  too  positive  convictions,  lie  listened  not  only 
with  patience  but  Avith  interest  to  all,  and  ever  avoided  con- 
troversy. Here  arc  some  of  the  elements  of  a  man's  popu- 
larity. 

What  was  his  intellectual  reach,  and  what  his  real  character, 
it  was  difficult  at  this  time  to  decide.  lie  was  still  very  young, 
only  on  the  verge  of  his  twentieth  year  ;  and  his  character  had 
no  doubt  been  iniluenced,  it  might  be  suppressed,  by  the  crush- 
ing misfortunes  of  his  family.  The  influence  of  his  sister  was 
supreme  over  him.  She  had  never  reconciled  herself  to  their 
fall.  She  had  existed  only  on  the  solitary  idea  of  regaining 
their  position,  and  she  had  never  omitted  an  occasion  to  im- 
press upon  him  that  he  had  a  great  mission,  and  that,  aided  by 
her  devotion,  he  Avould  fulfill  it.  What  his  own  conviction  on 
this  subject  was  may  bo  obscure.  Perhaps  he  was  organically 
of  that  cheerful  and  easy  nature,  wiiich  is  content  to  enjoy  the 
present,  and  not  brood  over  the  past.  The  future  may  throw 
light  upon  all  these  points  ;  at  present  it  may  be  admitted  that 
the  three  years  of  seemingly  bitter  and  mortifying  adversity 
have  not  been  altogether  wanting  in  beneficial  elements  in  the 
formation  of  his  character  and  the  fashioning  of  his  future  life. 


CHAPTER  XLHI. 

Lady  Montfort  heard  with  great  satisfaction  from  Mr. 
Neuchatel  that  Lord  Roehampton  was  going  to  pay  a  visit  to 
Hainault  at  Easter,  and  that  he  had  asked  himself.  She  play- 
fully congratulated  Mrs.  Neuchatel  on  the  subject,  and  spoke 
as  if  the  affair  was  almost  concluded.  That  lady,  however, 
received  the  intimation  with  a  serious,  not  to  say  distressed, 
countenance.     She  said  she  should  be  grieved  to  lose  Adriana 


LADY  MONTFORT  AT    WORK. 


isr 


\% 


under  any  circumstances  ;  but  if  licr  marriage  in  time  was  a 
necessity,  slie  trusted  she  miglit  be  united  to  some  one  who 
would  not  object  to  becoming  a  permanent  inmate  of  their 
house.  Wluit  she  herself  desired  for  her  daughter  was  a  union 
with  some  clergyman,  and  if  possible,  the  rector  of  their  own 
parish.  But  it  was  too  charming  a  dream  to  realize.  The 
rectory  at  Ilainault  was  almost  in  the  Park,  and  was  the  pret- 
tiest house  in  the  world,  with  the  most  lovely  garden.  She 
herself  much  preferred  it  to  the  great  mansion — and  so  on. 

Lady  Montfort  stared  at  her  with  impatient  astonishment, 
and  then  said,  ''  Your  daughter,  Mrs.  Xeacliatel,  ought  to 
make  an  alliance  which  would  place  her  at  the  head  of  so- 
ciety." 

"  "What  a  fearful  destiny,"  saia  Mrs.  Neuchatel,  "  for  any 
one,  but  overwhelming  for  one  who  must  feel  the  whole  time 
that  she  occujiics  a  position  not  accjuired  by  her  personal  qual- 
ities." 

''Adriana  is  pretty,"  said  Lady  Montfort.  *' I  think  her 
more  than  pretty  ;  she  is  highly  accomplished,  and  in  every 
way  pleasing.  Wliat  can  you  mean,  then,  my  dear  madam,  by 
supposing  she  would  occupy  a  position  not  acquired  by  her  per- 
sonal qualities  ?  " 

Mrs.  Neuchatel  sighed  and  shook  her  head,  and  then  said, 
*'  We  need  not  have  a  controversy  on  this  subject.  I  have  no 
reason  to  believe  there  is  any  foundation  for  my  fears.  We  all 
like  and  admire  Lord  Roeliampton.  It  is  impossible  not  to 
admire  and  like  him.  So  great  a  man,  and  yet  so  gentle  and 
so  kind,  so  unaffected — I  would  say  so  unsophisticated  ;  but  he 
has  never  given  the  slightest  intimation  either  to  me  or  her 
father  that  he  seriously  admired  Adriana,  and  I  am  sure  if  ho 
had  said  anything  to  her  she  would  have  told  us." 

"lie  is  always  here,"  said  Lady  Montfort,  "and  he  is  a 
man  who  used  to  go  nowhere  except  for  form.  Besides,  I 
know  that  he  admires  her,  that  he  is  in  love  with  her,  and  I 
have  not  a  doubt  that  he  has  invited  himself  to  Ilainault  in 
order  to  declare  his  feelings  to  her." 

"  How  very  dreadful ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Neuchatel.  "  What 
are  we  to  do  ?  " 


II 


188 


END  YMIOy. 


"  To  do,"  said  Lady  Monlfort  ;  "  why,  Fympathizc  with 
his  happiness,  and  complete  it.  You  will  have  a  son-in-law  of 
whom  you  may  well  be  proud,  and  Adriana  a  husband  Avho, 
thoroughly  knowing  the  world,  and  women,  and  himself,  Avill 
be  devoted  to  her;  will  b:  a  guide  and  friend,  a  guide  that 
will  never  lecture,  and  a  friend  who  will  always  charm,  for 
there  is  no  companion  in  the  Avorld  like  him,  and  I  think  I 
iDught  to  know,"  added  Lady  Montfort,  *'  for  I  always  tell  him 
I  was  the  last  of  his  conquests,  and  I  shall  ever  be  grateful  to 
him  for  his  having  spared  to  me  so  much  of  his  society." 

"Adriana  on  this  matter  will  decide  for  herself,"  said  ]\hv. 
Xeuchatcl,  in  a  pcrious  tone,  and  with  a  certain  degree  of  dig- 
nity. "  Neither  Mr.  Neuchatel  nor  myself  have  ever  attempted 
to  control  her  feelings  in  this  respect." 

*' Well,  I  am  now  about  to  sec  Adriana,"  said  Lady  Mont- 
fort ;  ''  I  know  she  is  at  home.  If  I  had  not  been  obliged  to 
go  to  Princedown  I  Avould  have  asked  you  to  let  me  pass  Easter 
iit  Ilainault  mvself." 

On  this  very  afternoon,  when  Myra,  who  had  been  walking 
in  Regent's  Park  with  her  brother,  returned  home,  she  found 
Adriana  agitated,  and  really  in  tears. 

"  What  is  all  tliis,  dearest  ?"  inquired  her  friend.  ''  I  am 
too  unhappy,"  sobbed  Adriana,  and  then  she  told  Myra  that 
she  had  had  a  visit  from  Lady  Montfort,  and  all  that  had  oc- 
curred in  it.  Lady  Montfort  had  absolutely  congratulated  her 
on  her  approaching  alliance  with  Lord  Koehampton,  and  Avhcn 
she  altogether  disclaimed  it,  and  expressed  her  complete  aston- 
ishment at  the  supposition.  Lady  Montfort  had  told  her  .<ho 
was  not  justified  in  giving  Lord  Roehampton  so  much  encour- 
agement and  trifling  with  a  man  of  his  high  character  and 
position. 

*'  Fancy  my  giving  encouragement  to  Lord  Roehampton," 
exclaimed  Adriana,  and  she  threw  her  arms  round  the  neck  of 
the  friend  who  was  to  console  her. 

"I  agree  with  Lady  Montfort,"  said  Myra,  releasing  her- 
self with  gentleness  from  her  distressed  friend.  "  It  may  have 
been  unconsciously  on  your  part,  but  I  think  you  have  encour- 
aged Lord  Roehamjjton.      lie  is  constantly  conversing  with 


MVnA   AM)  A  I)  HI  AS  A. 


lSf> 


lizo  with 
ill-law  of 
md  who, 
self,  will 
lidc  that 
larm,  for 
:  think  I 
;  tell  him 
•atcful  to 


>> 


=aifl  Mr.-', 
e  of  dig- 
ttcmpted 

:lv  Mont- 
(bligcd  to 
ss  Easter 

^  walking 
ho  found 

'  I  am 

[yra  that 

had  oc- 

atcd  her 

nd  when 

to  aston- 

hcr  t^ho 

cncour- 

icr  and 

ppton,*' 
neck  of 

|ng  licr- 
ay  have 
oncour- 
ig  with 


von,  and  he  is  always  here,  where  he  never  was  before, 
anil,  as  Lady  ^Montfort  say.^,  why  should  ho  have  asked  him- 
self to  pass  the  Easter  at  Ilainault  if  it  were  not  for  your 
society  ?" 

'•lie  invited  himself  to  Ilainault,  because  he  is  so  fond  of 
papa,"  said  Adriana. 

'•  So  much  the  better,  if  he  is  to  be  your  husband.  Tliat 
will  be  an  additional  clement  of  domestic  happiness." 

'•  Oh,  ^lyra  !  that  you  should  say  such  things  !  "  exclaimed 
Adriana. 

'■What  things?" 

'•  That  I  should  marry  Lord  RochamiDton." 

"  I  never  said  anything  of  the  kind.     "Whom  you  should 
marry  is  a  question  you  must  decide  for  yourself.     All  that  I 
said  was,  that  if  you  marry  Lord  Eoehampton,  it  is  fortunate 
he  is  so  much  liked  by  Mr.  Xeuchatel." 
^  ''I  shall  not  marry  Lord  Roehampton,"  said  Adriana,  with 

some  determination,  "and  if  he  has  condescended  to  think  of 
marrying  me,"  she  continued,  *'  as  Lady  Montfort  says,  I  think 
his  motives  arc  so  obvious  that  if  I  felt  for  him  any  preference 
it  would  be  immediately  extinguished." 

"  Ah  !  now  you  are  going  to  ride  your  hobby,  my  dear 
Adriana.  On  that  subject  wc  never  can  agree  ;  Avere  I  an  heir- 
ess, I  should  have  as  little  objection  to  be  married  for  my  for- 
tune as  my  face.  Husbands,  a?  I  have  heard,  do  not  care  for 
the  latter  too  long.  Have  more  confidence  in  yourself,  Adriana. 
If  Lord  Eoehampton  Avishes  to  many  j-ou,  it  is  that  he  is  pleased 
with  you  personally,  that  he  appreciates  your  intelligence,  your 
cidture, your  accomplishments,  your  sweet  disposition,  and  your 
gentle  nature.  If  in  addition  to  these  gifts  you  have  wealth, 
and  even  great  wealth.  Lord  Roehampton  will  not  despise  it, 
will  not — for  I  wish  to  put  it  frankly — be  uninfluenced  by  the 
circumstances,  for  Lord  Roehampton  is  a  wise  man  ;  but  he 
would  not  marry  you  if  he  did  not  believe  that  you  would  make 
for  him  a  delightful  companion  in  life,  that  you  would  adorn 
his  circle  and  illustrate  his  name." 

"  Ah  !  I  see  you  are  all  in  the  plot  against  me,"  said  Adriana. 
*' I  have  no  friend." 


190 


EN DY MI  ON. 


Ill 


**  My  dear  Atlriiina,  I  think  you  arc  unreasonable  ;  I  could 
say  even  unkind." 

"Oh  !  pardon  me,  dear  Myra,"  said  Adriana,  "^but  I  really 
am  so  very  unhappy." 

'^  About  what  ?  You  are  your  own  mistress  in  this  matter. 
If  you  do  not  like  to  marry  Lord  Roehampton  nobody  will  at- 
temjit  to  control  you.  What  does  it  signify  what  Lady  Mont- 
fort  says,  or  anybody  else,  except  your  own  parents,  who  desire 
nothing  but  your  happiness  ?  I  should  never  have  mentioned 
Lord  Roehampton  to  you  had  you  not  introduced  the  subject 
yourself.  And  all  that  I  meant  to  say  was,  what  I  repeat,  that 
your  creed  that  no  one  can  wish  to  marry  you  except  for  your 
wealth  is  a  morbid  conviction,  and  must  lead  to  unhappiness  ; 
that  I  do  not  believe  that  Lord  Roehampton  is  influenced  in 
his  overture,  if  he  make  one,  by  any  unworthy  motive,  and 
that  any  woman  whose  heart  is  disengaged  should  not  lightly 
repudiate  such  an  advance  from  such  a  man,  by  which  at  all 
events,  she  should  feel  honored,, " 

"But  my  heart  is  engaged,''  said  Adriana,  in  an  almost  sol- 
emn tone. 

"Oh  !  that  is  quite  a  different  thing  !"  said  Myra,  turning 
pale. 

"  Yes  ! "  said  Adriana ;  "  I  am  devoted  to  one  Avliose  name 
I  can  not  now  mention,  perhaps  will  never  mention,  but  I  am 
devoted  to  him.  Yes ! "  she  added  with  fire,  "  I  am  not  alto- 
gether so  weak  a  thing  as  the  Lady  Montforts  and  some  other 
persons  seem  to  think  mc — I  can  feel  and  decide  for  myself, 
and  it  shall  never  be  said  of  me  that  I  purchased  love." 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

There  was  to  be  no  great  party  at  Hainault ;  Lord  Roe- 
hampton particularly  wished  that  there  should  be  no  fine  folks 
asked,  and  especially  no  ambassadors.  All  that  he  wanted  was 
to  enjoy  the  fresh  air,  and  to  ramble  in  the  forest,  of  which  ho 
had  heard  so  much,  with  the  young  ladies. 


MORAL  AHITIIMETIC. 


101 


I  could 
I  really 

matter. 
r  will  at- 
y  Mont- 
10  desire 
entioned 
)  subject 
eat,  that 

for  your 
ippiness ; 
lenccd  in 
tive,  and 
>t  lightly 
ich  at  all 

most  sol- 

,  turning 

ose  name 
but  I  am 
not  alto- 
me  other 
r  myself, 


ord  Roe- 
ine  folks 
nted  was 
which  he 


*'  And,  by  tlie  by.  Miss  Ferrars,"  said  Mr.  Xeucliatcl,  "  wo 
must  let  what  we  were  talking  about  the  other  day  drop. 
Adriana  has  been  with  me  quite  excited  about  something  Lady 
Montfort  said  to  her.  I  soothed  her  and  assured  her  she  sliould 
do  exactly  as  she  liked,  and  that  neither  I  nor  her  mother  had 
any  otlier  wishes  on  such  a  subject  tlian  her  ov»-n.  Tlie  fact  is, 
I  answered  Lady  Montfort  originally  only  half  in  earnest.  If 
the  tiling  might  have  happened,  I  should  have  been  content — 
but  it  really  never  rested  on  my  mind,  because  such  matters 
must  always  originate  with  my  daughter.  L^nless  they  come 
from  her,  with  me  they  are  mere  fancies.  But  now  I  want 
you  to  help  me  in  another  matter,  if  not  more  grave,  more 
business-like.  My  lord  must  be  amutcd,  although  it  is  a  family 
party.  He  likes  his  rubber  :  that  we  can  manage.  But  there 
must  be  two  or  three  persons  that  he  is  not  accustomed  to 
meet,  and  yet  Avho  will  interest  him.  Now,  do  you  know, 
Miss  Ferrars,  whom  I  think  of  asking  ?" 

*'Not  I,  my  dear  sir." 

*'What  do  you  think  of  the  colonel  ?"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel, 
looking  in  her  face  with  a  rather  laughing  eye. 

•'  Well,  he  is  very  agreeable,"  said  Myra,  "  and  many  would 
think  interesting,  and  if  Lord  Roehampton  C^oca  not  know 
him,  I  think  he  would  do  very  well." 

"Well,  but  Lord  Rochampton  knows  all  about  him,"  said 
Mr.  Neuchatel. 

''  Well,  that  is  an  advantage,"  said  Myra. 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel.  '^Life  is  a  very 
curious  thing,  eh.  Miss  Ferrars  ?  One  can  not  ask  one  person 
to  meet  another  even  in  one's  own  home,  without  going 
through  a  sum  of  moral  arithmetic." 

**  Is  it  so  ?"  said  Myra. 

"  Well,  Miss  Ferrars,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel,  **  I  want  your 
r  ivice  and  I  want  your  aid ;  but  then  it  is  a  long  story,  at  which 
I  am  rather  a  bad  hand,"  and  Mr.  Neuchatel  hesitated.  "  You 
know,"  he  said,  suddenly  resuming,  **you  once  asked  me  who 
Colonel  Albert  was." 

"  But  I  do  not  ask  you  now,"  said  Myra,*'  because  I  know." 

"  Ilah,  hah  I"  exclaimed  Mr.  Neuchatel,  much  surprised. 


ft 


M 


192 


FXDYMWy. 


''And  what    you   want    to  know  is,"   continued    Myra, 
"whether  Lord  Roeluimpton  would  have  any  objection  to  meet 


Prince  Florestan  ?" 

"That  is  something;  but  that  is  comparatively  easy.  I 
think  I  can  manage  that.  But  when  they  meet — that  is  the 
point.  But,  in  the  first  place,  I  should  like  very  much  to  know 
how  you  became  acquainted  with  the  secret." 

"In  a  very  natural  way  ;  my  brother  was  my  informant," 
she  replied. 

"  Ah  !  now  you  see,"  continued  ^Mr.  Neuchatel,  with  a  se- 
rious air,  "  a  word  from  Lord  Roehampton  in  the  proper  quarter 
might  be  of  vast  importance  to  the  prince.  He  has  a  largo  in- 
heritance, and  has  been  kept  out  of  it  unjustly.  Our  house 
has  done  what  we  could  for  him,  for  his  mother,  Queen  Agrip- 
pina,  was  very  kind  to  my  father,  and  the  house  of  Keuchatel 
never  forgets  its  fricntls.  But  we  want  something  else,  we 
want  the  British  Government  to  intimate  that  they  will  not 
disapprove  of  the  restitution  of  the  private  fortune  of  the 
prince.  I  have  felt  my  way  with  the  premier  ;  he  is  not  favor- 
able ;  he  is  prejudiced  against  the  prince  ;  and  so  is  the  cabinet 
generally  ;  and  yet  all  difficulties  Avould  vanish  at  a  word  from 
Lord  Roehampton. " 

"  Well,  this  is  a  good  opportunity  for  you  to  speak  to  him," 
said  Myra. 

"  Ilcm  ! "  said  Mr.  Neuchatel,  "  I  am  not  so  sure  about  that. 
I  like  Lord  Roehampton,  and,  between  ourselves,  I  wish  he  were 
fij'st  minister.  He  understands  the  Continent,  and  would  keep 
things  quiet.  But,  do  you  know.  Miss  Fcrrars,  with  all  his 
playful,  good-tempered  manner,  as  if  he  could  not  say  a  cross 
word  or  do  an  unkind  act,  he  is  a  very  severe  man  in  business. 
Speak  to  him  on  business,  and  he  is  completely  changed.  His 
brows  knit,  he  penetrates  you  with  the  terrible  scrutiny  of  that 
deep-set  eye ;  he  is  more  than  stately,  he  is  austere.  I  have 
been  up  to  him  with  deputations — the  Governor  of  the  Bank, 
and  all  the  first  men  in  the  City,  half  of  them  M.  Ps.,  and  they 
trembled  before  him  like  aspens.  No,  it  will  not  do  for  me  to 
speak  to  him,  it  will  spoil  his  visit.  I  think  the  way  will  be  this ; 
if  he  has  no  objection  to  meet  the  prince,  we  must  watch  whcth- 


A   DELlunTtUL  PAltrV. 


193 


}(1  ^lyra, 
n  to  meet 

^  easy.  I 
liat  is  the 
1  to  know 

tormant," 

ivith  a  se- 
er quarter 
I  largo  in- 
)ur  house 
cu  Agrip- 
Kcuchatel 
I  else,  we 
^  will  not 
tie  of  the 
not  favor- 
lie  cabinet 
ord  from 

:  to  him," 

joiit  that. 

1  he  were 

ould  keep 

h  all  his 

ay  a  cross 

business. 

cd.     His 

ly  of  that 

I  have 

he  Bank, 

and  they 

for  me  to 

1  be  this ; 

h  whcth- 


ii 


cr  the  prince  makes  a  favorable  impression  on  him,  and  if  that 
is  the  case,  and  Lord  Roehampton  likes  him,  wliat  we  must  do 
next  is  this — you  must  speak  to  Lord  Roehampton.'' 

*'Yes,  Miss  Fcrrars,  you.  Lord  Roehampton  likes  ladies. 
lie  is  never  austere  to  them,  even  if  he  refuses  their  requests, 
and  sometimes  he  grants  them.  I  thought  first  of  Mrs.  Neu- 
chatel  speaking  to  him,  but  my  wife  will  never  interfere  in 
anything  in  which  money  is  concerned  ;  then  1  thought  Adri- 
ana  might  express  a  hope  when  they  were  walking  in  the  gar- 
den, but,  now  that  is  all  over ;  and  so  you  alone  remain.  I 
have  great  confidence  in  you,"  added  Mr.  Ncuchatel,  "  I  think 
you  would  do  it  very  well.  Besides,  my  lord  rather  likes  you, 
for  I  have  observed  him  often  go  and  sit  by  you  at  parties,  at 
our  house." 

"Yes,  he  is  very  high-bred  in  that,"  said  Myra,  gravely 
and  rather  sadly  ;  ''and  the  fact  of  my  being  a  dependent,  I 
have  no  doubt,  influences  him." 

"  "We  are  all  dependents  in  this  house,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatcl, 
with  his  sweetest  smile  ;  "and  I  depend  upon  Miss  Ferrars." 

Affairs  on  the  whole  went  on  in  a  promising  manner.  The 
weather  was  delightful,  and  Lord  Roehampton  came  down  to 
Hainault  just  in  time  for  dinner,  the  day  after  their  arrival, 
and  in  the  highest  spirits.  He  seemed  to  be  enjoying  a  real 
holiday  ;  body  and  mind  were  in  a  like  state  of  expansion  ;  he 
was  enchanted  with  the  domain ;  he  was  delighted  with  the 
mansion,  everything  pleased  and  gratified  him,  and  he  pleased 
and  gratified  everybody.  The  party  consisted  only  of  them- 
selves, except  one  of  the  nephews,  with  whom  indeed  Lord 
Roehampton  was  already  acquainted ;  a  lively  youth,  a  little 
on  the  turf,  not  too  much,  and  this  suited  Lord  Roehampton, 
who  was  a  statesman  of  the  old  aristocratic  school,  still  bred 
horses,  and  sometimes  ran  one,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  Euro- 
pean crisis  could  spare  an  hour  to  Newmarket.  Perhaps  it 
Avas  his  only  affectation. 

Mrs.  Neuchatel,  by  whom  he  was  seated,  had  the  happy 
gift  of  conversation  ;  but  the  party  Avas  of  that  delightful  di- 
mension, that  it  permitted  talk  to  be  general.     Myra  sat  next 

9 


If 


19-t 


Exn  VMioy. 


I! 


to  Lord  liochamptoii,  and  he  often  addressed  lier.  He  was 
tlie  soul  of  the  feasi,  and  yet  it  is  difficult  to  describe  his  con- 
versation ;  it  was  a  medley  of  graceful  whim,  inters2)ersed  now 
and  then  with  a  very  short  anecdote  of  a  very  famous  person, 
or  some  deeply  interesting  reminiscence  of  some  critical  event. 
Every  now  and  then  he  appealed  to  Adriana,  who  sat  opposite 
to  him  in  the  round  table,  and  she  trusted  that  her  irrepres- 
sible smiles  would  not  be  interpreted  into  undue  encourage- 
ment. 

Lord  Roehampton  had  no  objection  to  meet  Prince  Flores- 
tan,  provided  there  were  no  other  strangers,  and  the  incognito 
was  observed.  lie  rather  -"vclcomed  the  proposal,  observing  he 
liked  to  know  public  men  personally  ;  so,  you  can  judge  of 
their  caliber,  which  you  never  can  do  from  books  and  news- 
papers, or  the  oral  reports  of  their  creatures  or  their  enemies. 
And  so  on  the  next  day  Colonel  Albert  was  expected. 

Lord  Roehampton  did  not  appear  till  luncheon  ;  ho  had 
received  so  many  boxes  from  Downing  Street  which  required 
his  attention.  "Business  will  folloAV  one,"  he  said  ;  ''yester- 
day I  thought  I  had  baffled  it.  I  do  not  know  what  I  shall  do 
Avithout  my  secretaries.  I  think  I  shall  get  you  young  ladies 
to  assist  me." 

"You  can  not  have  better  secretaries,"  said  Mr.  Xeuchatel ; 
"Miss  Ferrars  often  helps  me." 

Then  what  was  to  be  done  after  luncheon  ?  TVould  he  ride, 
or  would  he  drive  ?  And  where  should  they  drive  and  ride  to  ? 
But  Lord  Roehampton  did  not  much  care  to  drive,  and  was 
tired  of  riding,  lie  would  rather  walk  and  ramble  about  Tlai- 
nault.  lie  wanted  to  see  the  place,  and  the  forest  and  tho  fern, 
and  perhaps  hear  one  of  those  nightingales  that  Ihey  had  talked 
of  in  Portland  Place.  But  Mrs.  Neuchatel  did  not  care  to 
walk,  and  Mr.  Neucliatel,  though  it  was  a  holiday  in  the  City, 
had  a  great  many  letters  to  write,  and  so  somehow  or  other  it 
ended  in  Lord  Roehampton  and  the  two  young  ladies  walking 
out  together,  and  remaining  so  long  and  so  late,  that  Mrs  Neu- 
chatel  absolutely  contemplated  postponing  the  dinner  hour. 

""We  shall  just  be  in  time,  dear  Mrs.  Neuchatel,"  said 
Myra  ;  "  Lord  Roehampton  has  gone  up  to  his  room.    "We  have 


1 


AT  DIXXER. 


195 


He  was 
his  con- 
sccl  now 

person, 
il  event, 
opposite 
irrcpres- 
courage- 

)  Florcs- 
iicognito 
I'ving  lie 
judge  of 
id  news- 
enemies. 

;  lie  luid 
required 
^'yester- 
sliall  do 
ig  ladies 

ucluitel ; 

he  ride, 

ride  to  ? 

and  was 

out  Tlai- 

ho  fern, 

d  talked 

care  to 

le  City, 

other  it 

walking 

I's  Neu- 

lour. 

1,"  said 

We  have 


heard  u  nightingale,  and  Lord  Roelianipltin  insisted  upon  our 
sitting  on  the  trunk  of  a  tree  till  it  ceased — and  it  never  ceased.'' 

Colonel  Albert,  who  had  arrived,  was  presented  to  Lord 
Roehampton  before  dinner.  Lord  Ixoehampton  received  him 
with  stately  courtesy.  As  Myra  watched,  not  without  inter- 
est, the  proceeding,  she  could  scarcely  Ix-lieve,  as  .^he  marked 
the  lofty  grace  and  somewhat  haughty  mien  of  Lord  Roeluimi)- 
ton,  that  it  could  be  the  same  being  of  frolic  and  fancy,  and 
even  tender  sentiment,  with  Avhom  she  hiul  been  passing  the 
preceding  hours. 

Colonel  Albert  sat  next  to  Myra  at  dinner,  and  Lord  Roe- 
hampton  between  Mrs.  Xeucluitel  and  her  daughter.  His 
manner  was  different  to-day,  not  less  pk-a-^vd  and  ])leasing,  but 
certainly  more  restrained.  He  encouragdl  Mrs.  Neuchatel  to 
occupy  the  chief  part  in  conversation,  and  whispered  to  Adriana, 
who  became  somewhat  uneasy  ;  but  the  whispers  mainly  con- 
sisted of  his  delight  in  their  morning  adventures.  When  he 
remarked  that  it  was  one  of  the  most  agreeable  days  of  his  life, 
she  became  a  little  alarmed.  Then  he  addressed  Colonel  Albert 
across  the  table,  and  said  that  he  had  heard  from  Mr.  Xeuchatel, 
that  the  colonel  had  been  in  America,  and  asked  some  questions 
about  public  men,  which  brought  him  out.  Colonel  Albert 
answered  with  gentleness  and  modesty,  never  at  any  length, 
but  in  language  which  indicated,  on  all  tiie  matters  referred 
to,  thought  and  discrimination. 

"I  sujipose  their  society  is  like  the  best  society  in  Manches- 
ter ?  "  said  Lord  Roehampton. 

*' It  varies  in  different  cities,"  said  Colonel  Albert.  ''In 
some  there  is  considerable  culture,  and  then  refinement  of  life 
always  follows." 

"Yes,  but  whatever  they  may  be,  they  will  always  be  co- 
lonial. What  is  colonial  necessarily  lack  <  ori;:^inality.  A  coun- 
try that  borrows  its  language,  its  laws,  ar.d  its  religion,  can 
not  have  its  inventive  powers  much  developed.  They  got  civ- 
ilized very  soon,  but  their  civilization  was  second-hand." 

''Perhaps  their  inventive  powers  may  develop  themselves 
in  other  ways,"  said  the  prince.  *'  A  nation  has  a  fixed  quan- 
tity of  invention,  and  it  will  make  itself  felt." 


!   t 
1   1 


IOC 


EXD  y.ufoy. 


**  At  present,'' saiil  Lonl  R(»i'liami)t()n,  '"•' tlic  Americans,  I 
think,  cni|»loy  their  invention  in  inia,u;inary  l)(>undary  lines. 
They  are  ^'ivin^'  u.s  i»lenty  of  tn)ul)lo  now  al)out  Maine." 

After  dinner,  tliey  luul  .-ome  niu.sie  ;  Lord  lioehanipton 
would  not  play  whit^t.  Jle  in^^isted  on  comparing  the  voices  of 
liis  companions  with  that  of  the  nightingale  of  the  morning. 
lie  talked  a  great  deal  to  Adriana,  and  Colonel  Albert,  in  the 
course  of  the  evening  much  to  Myra,  and  about  lior  brother. 
Lord  I{oeham})ton  more  tiiaii  once  had  wished  to  tell  her,  as 
he  had  already  told  Miss  Xeuchatel,  how  delightful  had  been 
their  morning  ;  but  on  every  occasion  he  had  found  her  en- 
gaged with  the  colonel. 

"I  rather  like  your  prince,''  he  had  observed  to  Mr.  Neu- 
chatel,  as  they  came  from  the  dining-room.  "  lie  never  speaks 
without  thinking ,  very  reserved,  I  apprehend.  They  say,  an 
inveterate  conspirator." 

"He  has  luid  enough  of  that,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel.  "I 
believe  he  wants  to  be  quiet." 

"  That  class  of  man  is  never  quiet,"  said  Lord  Rochampton. 

"  But  what  can  he  do  ?"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel. 

'*  "What  can  he  not  do  ?  Half  Europe  is  in  a  state  of 
chronic  conspiracy." 

"  You  must  keep  us  right,  my  dear  lord.  So  long  as  you 
are  in  Downing  Street  I  shall  sleep  at  nights." 

"Miss  Ferrars,"  said  Lord  Roehampton  abruptly  to  Mr. 
Neuchatel,  "  must  have  been  the  daughter  of  William  Ferrars, 
one  of  my  great  friends  in  old  days.  I  never  knew  it  till  to- 
day, and  she  did  not  tell  me,  but  it  flashed  across  me  from 
something  she  said." 

"Yes,  she  is  his  daughter,  and  is  in  mourning  for  him  at 
this  moment.  She  has  had  sorrows,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel.  "I 
liope  they  have  ceased.  It  was  one  of  the  happiest  days  of  my 
life  when  she  entered  this  family." 

"  Ah  !"  said  Lord  Roehampton. 

The  next  day,  after  they  had  examined  the  famous  stud 
and  stables  there  was  a  riding  party,  and  in  the  evening  Colo- 
nel Albert  offered  to  perform  some  American  conjuring  tricks, 
of  which  he  had  been  speaking  in  the  course  of  the  day.     This 


J/}'A'.(    .\XD   Lt)i:i>   l:  HHIAMl'lnS. 


ii-; 


ricans,  I 
ry  lines. 

I 

Imnipton 
voices  of 
iioiMiing. 
t,  in  tlie 
brother. 
1  her,  as 
lad  been 
her  cn- 

\h'.  Ncu- 
jr  speaks 
y  say,  an 


,tol. 


(( 


lampton. 

state  of 

ig  as  you 

f  to  i\Ir. 
Ferrars, 
t  till  to- 
me from 

:  him  at 
itel.  "I 
ys  of  my 


ous  stud 
ng  Colo- 
g  tricks, 
This 


•^ 


was  a  most  wonderful  iterforniaiicc.  and  sui'prisetl  and  lii;j;lily 
amused  everybody.  Colonel  Albi'rt  was  the  last  person  whom 
they  cxpLc'ted  would  achieve  such  marvels  ;  he  was  so  (piiet, 
not  to  say  grave.  They  could  hardly  credit  that  he  was  (ho 
same  person  as  he  poured  Hoods  of  flowers  over  Myni  from  her 
own  borrowed  pocket-handkerchief,  and  without  the  slightest 
ell'oit  or  embarrassment,  robbed  Lord  Iioehampton  of  his 
walch,  and  deposited  it  in  Adriana's  bosom.  It  was  evident 
that  he  was  a  complete  master  of  sleight  of  hand. 

"Characteristic,"  murmured  L^rd  Iioehampton  to  himself. 

It  was  the  day  after  this,  that  Myra  being  in  the  music- 
room  and  alone,  Lord  I{oeham})fon  opened  the  door,  looked  in, 
and  then  said,  '"AVhere  is  Miss  Neuchatel  ?'' 

"1  think  she  is  on  the  terrace.'' 

**  Let  us  try  to  lind  her,  and  have  one  of  our  i»leasaiit 
strolls.  I  sadly  want  one,  for  I  have  been  working  very  hard 
all  this  morning,  and  half  the  niirht." 

'"  I  will  be  with  you.  Lord  Ii(>e]iami>ton,  in  a  monu'nt.*' 

"Do  not  let  us  luivc  anvbodv  el.-e,''  he  said,  as  she  left  the 
room. 

They  were  soon  on  the  terrace,  but  Adriana  was  not  there. 

"  We  must  find  her,"  said  Lord  Roehamjjton  ;  "you  know 
her  haunts.  Ah  !  what  a  delight  it  is  to  be  in  this  air  and  this 
scene  after  those  dreadful  boxes  I  I  wish  they  would  turn  us 
out.     I  think  they  must  soon."' 

"Xowforthc  first  time,"  said  Myra,  '•  Lord  Roehainpton 
is  not  sincere." 

"Then  you  think  me  always  sincere  ?  "  he  replied. 

** I  have  no  reason  to  think  5'ou  otherwise." 

"That  is  very  true,"  said  Lord  Iioehampton,  "truer  per- 
haps than  you  imagine."  Then  rather  abruptly  he  said,  "  You 
know  Colonel  Albert  very  well  ?  " 

"Pretty  well.  I  have  seen  him  here  frequently,  and  he  is 
also  a  friend  of  my  brother." 

"Ah!  a  friend  of  your  brotlier."  Then,  after  a  slight 
pause,  he  said,  "He  is  an  interesting  man." 

"  I  think  so,"  said  Myra.     "  You  knoAV  all  about  hini;,  of 


course. 


» 


198 


EXDYMIOX. 


j> 


*' Very  good-looking." 

"Well,  lie  looks  unhappy,  I  think,  and  worn.' 

**  One  is  never  worn  when  one  is  young,"  said  Lord  Roe- 
hampton. 

''He  must  have  great  anxieties  and  great  sorrows,"  said 
Myra.  "I  can  not  imagine  a  position  more  unfortunate  than 
that  of  an  exiled  prince." 

''I  can,"  said  Lord  Rochampton.  ''To  have  the  feelings 
of  youth  and  the  frame  of  age." 

Myra  was  silent,  one  might  say  dumfounded.  She  had 
just  screwed  herself  up  to  the  task  which  Mr.  Neuchatel  had 
imposed  on  her,  and  was  about  to  appeal  to  the  good  offices  of 
Lord  Roehampton  in  favor  of  the  prince,  when  he  had  indulged 
in  a  remark  which  was  not  only  somewhat  strange,  but  from 
the  manner  in  which  it  was  introduced  hardly  harmonized 
with  her  purpose. 

"Yes,  I  would  give  up  everything,"  said  Lord  RoCiiamp- 
ton.  "I  would  even  be  an  exile  to  be  young;  to  hear  that 
Miss  Ferrars  deems  me  interesting  and  good-looking,  though 
worn." 

"What  is  going  to  happen  ?  "  thought  Myra.  "Will  the 
earth  open  to  receive  me  !  " 

"You  are  silent,"  said  Lord  Roehampton.  "You  will  not 
speak,  you  will  not  sigh,  you  will  not  give  a  glance  of  consola- 
tion or  even  pity.  But  I  have  spoken  too  much  not  to  say 
more.  Beautiful,  fascinating  being,  let  me  at  least  tell  you  of 
my  love. " 

Myra  could  not  speak,  but  put  her  left  hand  to  her  face. 
Gently  taking  her  other  hand.  Lord  Roehampton  pressed  it  to 
his  lips.  "  From  the  first  moment  I  met  you,  my  heart  was 
yours.  It  Avas  love  at  first  sight ;  indeed  I  believe  in  no  other. 
I  Avas  amused  with  the  projects  of  my  friend,  and  I  availed 
myself  of  them,  but  not  unfairly.  No  one  can  accuse  me  of 
trilling  with  the  affections  of  your  sweet  friend,  and  I  must  do 
her  the  justice  to  say  that  she  did  everything  to  convince  mo 
that  she  shrank  from  my  attentions.  But  her  society  was  an 
excuse  to  enjoy  yours.  I  was  an  habitual  visitor  in  town  that 
I  might  cherish  my  love,  and,  dare  I  say  it,  I  came  down  here 


MVHA'S  GOOD  FORTUNE. 


109 


3rd  Roe- 


to  declare  it.  Bo  not  despise  it,  dearest  of  women  .  it  is  not 
wortliy  of  yon,  but  it  is  not  altogether  undeserving.  It  is,  as 
you  kindly  believed  it — it  is  sincere  ! " 


said 

late  tl.an 


)  feelings 


She  had 
latel  had 
offices  of 
indulged 
but  from 
mionized 

luc  J  lamp- 
lear  that 
•,  though 

Will  the 

will  not 

consola- 

)t  to  say 

ill  you  of 

her  face, 
ssed  it  to 
icart  was 
10  other. 
'  availed 
ise  me  of 
must  do 
vince  mo 
y  was  an 
own  that 
3wn  hero 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

Ox  the  following  day,  Mr.  Neuchatel  had  good  naturcdly 
invited  Endymion  down  to  Ilainault,  and  when  he  arrived 
there,  a  servant  informed  him  that  Miss  Ferrars  wished  to  see 
him  in  her  room. 

It  was  a  long  interview  and  an  agitated  one,  and  Avlien  she 
liad  told  her  talc,  and  her  brother  had  embraced  her,  she  sat 
for  a  time  in  silence,  holding  his  hand,  and  intimating,  that, 
for  a  while,  she  wished  that  neither  of  them  should  speak. 
Suddenly  she  resumed,  and  said,  *'Xow  you  know  all,  dear 
darling  ;  it  is  so  sudden,  and  so  strange,  tliat  you  must  be 
almost  as  much  astounded  as  gratified.  "What  I  have  sighed 
for,  and  prayed  for — what,  in  moments  of  inspiration,  I  have 
sometimes  foreseen — has  happened.  Our  degradation  is  over. 
I  seem  to  breathe  for  the  first  time  for  many  years.  I  see  a 
career,  ay,  and  a  great  one  ;  and  what  is  far  more  important,  I 
see  a  career  for  you." 

"At  this  moment,  dear  Myra,  tl>ink  only  of  yourself." 

"You  arc  myself,"  she  replied,  rather  quickly,  "never 
more  so  than  at  this  moment ; "  and  then  she  said  in  a  tone 
more  subdued,  and  even  tender,  "Lord  Roehampton  has  every 
quality,  and  every  accident  of  life  that  I  delight  in  ;  he  has 
intellect,  eloquence,  courage,  great  station  and  power ;  and, 
what  I  ought  perha])s  more  to  consider,  though  I  do  not,  a 
sweet  disposition  and  a  tender  heart.  There  is  every  reason 
why  we  should  be  liappy — yes,  very  happy.  I  am  sure  I  shall 
sympathize  with  him  ;  perhaps,  I  may  aid  him  ;  at  least,  he 
thinks  so.  lie  is  the  noblest  of  men.  The  world  will  talk  of 
the  disparity  of  our  years  ;  but  Lord  Roeliami)ton  says  that  he 
is  really  the  younger  of  the  two,  and  I  think  he  is  right.     My 


! 


200 


ENDYMION. 


pride,  my  intense  pride,  never  permitted  me  any  levity  of 
lieart." 

*' And  when  is  it  to  liappen  ?"  inquired  Endymion. 

"^  Not  immediately.  I  could  not  marry  till  a  year  elapsed 
after  our  great  sorrow ;  and  it  is  more  agreeable,  even  to  him, 
that  our  union  should  be  delaj'cd  till  the  session  is  over.  He 
wants  to  leave  England  ;  go  abroad  ;  have  a  real  holiday.  lie 
has  always  had  a  dream  of  traveling  in  Spain  ;  well,  we  are  to 
realize  the  dream.  If  we  could  get  off  at  the  end  of  July,  we 
might  go  to  Paris,  and  then  to  Madrid,  and  travel  in  Andalusia 
in  the  autumn,  and  then  catch  the  packet  at  Gibraltar,  and 
get  home  just  in  time  for  the  November  cabinets." 

"Dear  Myra  !  how  wonderful  it  all  seems  !"  involuntarily 
exclaimed  Endymion. 

*'Yes,  but  more  Avonderful  things  will  happen.  "We  have 
now  got  a  lever  to  move  the  world.  Understand,  my  dear  En- 
dymion, that  nothing  is  to  be  announced  at  present.  It  will 
be  known  only  to  this  family,  and  the  Penruddocks.  I  am 
bound  to  tell  them,  even  immediately  ;  they  are  friends  that 
never  can  be  forgotten.  I  have  always  kept  my  correspondence 
lip  witli  Mrs.  Penruddock.  Besides,  I  shall  tell  her  in  confi- 
dence, and  she  is  perfectly  to  be  depended  on.  I  am  going  to 
ask  my  lord  to  let  Mr.  Penruddock  marry  us." 

''Oh  !  that  will  be  crpital,"  said  Endymion. 

"There  is  another  person,  b}'  the  by,  who  must  know  it, 
at  least,  my  lord  says  so,"  said  Myra,  "and  that  is  Lady  Mont- 
fort ;  you  have  heard  of  that  lady  and  her  plans.  Well,  she 
must  be  told — at  least,  sooner  or  later.  She  will  be  annoyed, 
and  she  will  hate  me.  I  can  not  help  it ;  every  one  is  hated  by 
Bomebody." 

During  the  three  months  that  had  to  elapse  before  the 
happy  day,  several  incidents  occurred  that  ought  to  be  noted. 
In  the  first  place.  Lady  Montfort,  though  disappointed  and 
very  much  astonished,  bore  the  communication  from  Lord 
Eoehampton  more  kindly  than  he  had  anticipated.  Lord  Roe- 
hampton  made  it  by  letter,  and  his  letters  to  women  were  more 
happy  even  than  his  dispatches  to  ministers,  and  they  were 
unrivaled.      lie  put  the  matter  in  the  most  skillful  form. 


A   UEMAEKABLE  PARAGRAPH. 


201 


evity  of 


•  elapsed 
to  him, 
er.  He 
ay.  He 
re  are  to 
Inly,  we 
ndalusia 
tar,  and 

nntarily 

iVe  have 
iear  En- 
It  Avill 
i.  I  am 
lids  tliat 
ontlcnce 
n  confi- 
roing  to 


:noAV  it, 
]\Iont- 
i^cll,  slio 
nnoycd, 
atcd  by 

ore  the 
noted, 
cd  and 
n  Lord 
rd  Roe- 
re  more 
3y  were 
form. 


Myra  had  been  born  in  a  social  ]>o>;ition  not  inferior  to  his  own, 
and  was  the  daughter  of  one  of  his  early  political  friends.  He 
did  not  dilate  too  much  on  her  charms  and  captivating  qual- 
ities, but  sufficiently  for  the  dignity  of  her  who  was  to  become 
his  wife.  And  then  he  confessed  to  Lady  Montfort  how  com- 
pletely his  heart  and  happiness  were  set  on  Lady  Roehampton 
being  welcomed  becomingly  by  his  friends  ;  he  was  well  aware, 
that,  in  these  matters  things  did  not  always  proceed  as  one 
could  wish,  but  this  was  the  moment,  and  this  the  occasion  to 
test  a  friend,  and  he  believed  he  had  tlie  dearest,  the  most 
faithful,  the  most  fascirating,  and  the  most  powerful  in  Lady 
Montfort. 

''  Well,  we  must  put  the  best  face  upon  it,''  exclaimed  that 
lady;  "he  was  always  romantic.  But,  as  he  says,  or  thinks, 
what  is  the  use  of  friends  if  they  do  not  help  you  in  a  scrape  ?" 

So  Lady  Montfort  made  the  acquaintance  of  ^Myra,  and 
welcomed  her  new  acquaintance  cordially.  She  was  too  fine 
a  judge  of  beauty  and  deportment  not  to  appreciate  them,  even 
when  a  little  prejudice  lurked  behind.  She  was  amused  also, 
and  a  little  gratified,  by  being  in  the  secret ;  presented  Myi-a 
with  a  rare  jewel,  and  declared  <"hat  she  should  attend  the  wed- 
ding ;  though  when  the  day  arrived,  she  was  at  Princedown, 
ard  could  n^t  unfortunately  leave  her  lord. 

About  the  end  of  June,  a  rather  remarkable  paragraph  ap- 
peared in  the  journal  of  society  : 

"Wo  understand  that  His  Royal  Highness,  Prince  Flo- 
restan,  who  has  been  for  some  little  time  in  this  country,  has 
taken  the  mansion  in  Carlton  Gardens,  recently  occupied  by  tlie 
Marquis  of  Katterfelto.  The  mansion  is  undergoing  very 
considerable  repairs,  but  it  is  calculated  that  it  will  be  com- 
pleted in  time  for  the  reception  of  His  Royal  Iligliness  by  thj 
end  of  the  autumn  ;  Ilis  Ro3'al  Highness  has  taken  the  exten- 
sive moors  of  Dinniewhiskie  for  the  coming  season." 

In  the  earlier  part  of  July,  the  approaching  alliance  of  the 
Earl  oi  Roehampton  with  Miss  Ferrars,  the  only  daughter  of 
the  late  Right  Honorable  William  Pitt  Ferrars,  of  Hurstley 
Hall,  in  the  county  of  Berks,  was  announced,  and  great  was 
the  sensation,  and  innumerable  the  presents  instantly  ordered. 


!!!f!l 


III! 


202 


EXDYMIOX. 


But  on  no  one  did  the  announcement  produce  greater  effect 
than  on  Zcnobia  ;  that  the  daughter  of  her  dearest  friend 
sliould  make  so  interesting  and  so  distinguished  an  alliance 
■was  naturally  most  gratifying  to  her.  She  wrote  to  Myra  a 
most  impassioned  letter,  as  if  they  had  only  separated  yester- 
day, and  a  still  longer  and  more  fervent  one  to  Lord  Roehamp- 
ton  ;  Zcnobia  and  he  had  been  close  friends  in  other  days,  till 
he  Avickedly  changed  his  politics,  and  was  always  in  office  and 
Zenobia  always  out.  This  was  never  to  be  forgiven.  But  the 
bright  lady  forgot  all  this  now,  and  sent  to  Myra  the  most 
wondrous  bracelet  of  precious  stones,  in  which  the  word  "Sou- 
venir "  was  represented  in  brilliants,  rubies,  and  emeralds. 

'Tor  my  part,"  said  Myra  to  Endymion,  ''my  most  diffi- 
cult task  are  the  bridesmaids.  I  am  to  have  so  many,  and 
know  so  few.  I  feel  like  a  recruiting  sergeant.  I  began  with 
Adriana,  but  my  lord  helps  me  very  much  out  of  his  family, 
and  says,  when  we  have  had  a  few  family  dinners,  all  will  bo 
right." 

Endymion  did  not  receive  the  banter  he  expected  at  the 
office.  The  event  was  too  great  for  a  jest.  Seymour  Hicks, 
with  a  serious  countenance,  said  Ferrars  might  get  anywhere 
now — all  the  ministerial  receptions  of  course.  Jawett  said 
there  would  be  no  ministerial  receptions  soon ;  they  were  de- 
grading functions.  Clear-headed  Trenchard  congratulated  him 
quietly,  and  said,  "I  do  not  think  you  will  stay  much  longer 
among  us,  but  we  shall  always  remember  you  with  interest." 

At  last  the  great  da\-  arrived,  and  at  St.  George's,  Hanover 
Square,  the  Right  Honorable  the  Earl  of  Rochampton,  K.  G-., 
Avas  united  to  Miss  Ferrars.  Mr.  Pcnruddock  joined  their 
hands.  His  sod,  Xigel,  had  been  invited  to  assist  him,  but  did 
not  apjiear,  though  Myra  liad  written  to  him.  The  great 
world  assembled  in  force,  and  Endymion  observed  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Rodney  and  Imogene  in  the  body  of  the  church.  After 
the  ceremony  there  was  an  entertainment  in  Portland  Place, 
and  the  world  ate  ortolans  and  examined  the  presents.  These 
were  remarkable  for  number  and  splendor.  Myra  could  not 
conceal  her  astonishment  at  possessing  so  many  friends  ;  but  it 
Avas  the  fashion  for  ail  Lord  Roehamptou's  acquaintance  to 


END   OF  THE  SEAS  OX. 


20 


titer  effect 
?st  friend 
ti  alliance 
0  ]\ryra  a 
3(i  yester- 
Rocliamp- 

days,  till 

office  and 

But  the 

tlie  most 
•rd  ''  Son- 
aids. 

nost  diffi- 
lany,  and 
?gan  with 
s  family, 
11  will  be 

3d  at  tlio 
ir  Hicks, 
anywhere 
yctt  said 
were  de- 
lated him 
eh  longer 
erest." 
Hanover 
11,  K.  G., 
ed  their 
,  hut  did 
he  great 
Mr.  and 
After 
d  Place, 
These 
3uld  not 
;  but  it 
tancc  to 


.. 


make  him  offering?,  and  to  solicit  his  permission  to  present 
gifts  to  his  bride.  Mr.  Neuchatel  placed  on  her  brow  a  dia- 
moir-  tiara,  and  Mrs.  Neuchatcl  encircled  her  neck  Avith  one 
of  liL.  diamond  necklaces.  *'I  should  like  to  give  the  other 
one  to  Adriana,"  she  observed,  "  but  Adriana  says  that  nothing 
will  ever  induce  her  to  wear  jewels."  Prince  Florestan  pre- 
sented Lady  Roehampton  with  a  vase  which  had  belonged  to 
his  mother,  and  which  had  been  painted  by  Boucher  for  Marie 
Antoinette.     It  was  matchless,  and  almost  unique. 

Kot  long  after  this.  Lord  Beaumaris,  with  muny  servants 
and  many  guns,  took  Waltlershare  and  Endymion  down  with 
him  to  Scotland. 


CHAPTER  XLVL 

The  end  of  the  season  is  a  pang  to  society.  More  holies 
have  been  baffled  than  realized.  There  is  something  melan- 
choly in  the  last  ball,  though  the  music  ever  seems  louder,  and 
the  lights  more  glaring  than  usual.  Or  it  may  be,  the  last  enter- 
tainment is  that  hecatomb  they  call  a  wedding  breakfast,  which 
celebrates  tlie  triumph  of  a  rival.  That  is  pleasant.  Society, 
to  do  it  justice,  struggles  hard  to  revive  in  other  scenes  the  ex- 
citement that  has  expired.  It  sails  to  Cowes,  it  scuds  to  bab- 
bling waters  in  the  pine  forests  of  the  continent,  it  stalks  even 
into  Scotland  ;  but  it  is  difficult  to  restore  the  romance  that  has 
been  rudely  disturbed,  and  to  gather  again  together  the  threads 
of  the  intrigue  that  have  been  lost  in  the  wild  flight  of  society 
from  that  metropolis,  which  is  now  described  as  "  a  perfect 
desert" — that  is  to  say,  a  park  or  so,  two  or  three  squares,  and 
a  dozen  streets  where  society  lives  ;  where  it  dines,  and  dances, 
and  blackballs,  and  bets,  and  spouts. 

But  to  the  world  in  general,  the  mighty  million,  to  the  pro- 
fessional classes,  to  all  men  of  all  business  whatever,  the  end  of 
the  season  is  the  beginning  of  carnival.  It  is  the  fulfillment 
of  the  dream  over  which  they  have  been  brooding  for  ten 
months,  which  has  sustained  them  in  toil,  lightened  anxiety, 


r 


2J-1 


EXD  YMIOX. 


and  softened  even  lo.--;!.  It  is  air,  it  is  healthy  it  is  movement, 
it  is  liberty,  it  is  nature — earth,  sea,  lake,  moor,  forest,  moun- 
tain and  river.  From  the  heights  of  the  Engadine  to  Margate 
Pier,  there  is  equal  rapture,  for  there  is  an  equal  cessation  of 
routine. 

Few  enjoy  a  holiday  more  than  a  young  clerk  in  a  public 
office,  who  has  been  bred  in  a  gentle  home,  and  enjoj'ed  in  his 
boyhood  all  the  pastimes  of  gentlemen.  Xow  he  is  ever  toil- 
ing, with  an  uncertain  prospect  of  annual  relaxation,  and 
living  hardly.  Once  on  a  time,  at  the  paternal  hall,  he  could 
shoot,  or  fish,  or  ride,  every  day  of  his  life,  as  a  matter  of 
course  ;  and  now,  what  would  he  not  give  for  a  good  day's 
sport  ?  Such  thoughts  had  frequently  crossed  the  mind  of 
Endymion  when  drudging  in  London  during  the  autumn,  and 
Avlien  all  his  few  acquaintances  were  away.  It  was,  therefore, 
with  no  ordinary  zest  that  he  looked  forward  to  the  unexpected 
enjoyment  of  an  unstinted  share  of  some  of  the  best  shooting 
in  the  United  Kingdom.  And  thy  relaxation  and  the  pastime 
came  just  at  the  right  moment^,  when  the  reaction,  from  all 
the  excitement  attendant  on  the  marvelous  change  in  his 
sister's  position,  would  have  made  liim,  deprived  of  her  consol- 
ing society,  doubly  sensible  of  his  isolated  position. 

It  so  happened  that  the  moors  of  Lord  Beaumaris  were  con- 
tiguous to  the  celebrated  shootings  of  Dinniewhiskie,  which  were 
rented  by  Prince  Florestan,  and  the  opportunity  now  offered 
which  Waldershare  desired  of  making  the  acquaintance  of  the 
prince  in  an  easy  manner.'  Endymion  managed  this  very  clev- 
erly. "Waldorpihare  took  a  j,,  jat  fancy  to  the  prince.  He  sym- 
pathized with  him,  and  imparted  to  Endymion  his  belief  that 
they  could  not  do  a  better  thing  than  devote  their  energies  to  a 
restoration  of  his  rights.  Lord  Beaumaris,  who  hated  foreign- 
ers, but  who  was  always  influenced  by  Waldershare,  also  liked  the 
prince,  and  was  glad  to  be  reminded  by  his  mentor  that  Flores- 
tan was  half  an  Englishman,  not  to  say  a  whole  one,  for  he  was 
an  Eton  boy.  What  was  equally  influential  with  Lord  Beau- 
maris was,  that  the  prince  was  a  fine  shot,  and  indeed  a  consum- 
mate sportsman,  and  had  in  his  manners  that  calm  which  is 
rather  unusual  with  foreigners,  and  which  is  always  pleasing  to 


it 

V 


m 


V 


THE  DUKE  OF  ST.  AXGELO. 


205 


an  English  aristocrat.  So  in  time  tlicy  became  intimtite,  sported 
much  together,  and  visited  each  other  at  their  respective  (juar- 
ters.  The  prince  was  never  alone.  What  the  county  paper 
described  as  distinguished  foreigners  were  perpetually  paying 
him  visits,  long  or  short,  and  it  did  not  generally  appear  that 
these  visits  were  influenced  by  a  love  of  sport.  One  individual, 
who  arrived  shortly  after  the  prince,  remained,  and,  as  './as 
soon  known,  Avas  to  remain  permanently.  This  was  a  young 
gentleman,  short  and  swarthy,  with  flashing  eyes  and  a  black 
mustache,  known  by  the  name  of  the  Duke  of  Si.  Angelo,  but 
who  was  really  only  ri  cadet  of  that  illustrious  house.  The 
Duke  of  St.  Angelo  took  the  management  of  the  household  of 
the  prince — was  evidently  the  controller  ;  servants  trembled  at 
liis  nod,  and  he  rode  any  horse  he  liked  ;  he  invited  guests,  and 
arranged  the  etitiucttc  of  the  interior.  He  said  one  day  very 
coolly  to  Waldershare  :  "I  observe  that  Lord  Beaumaris  and 
his  friends  never  rise  when  the  i^rince  moves. " 

''Why  should  we?" 

"  His  rank  is  recognized  and  guaranteed  by  the  Treaty  of 
Vienna,"  said  the  Duke  of  St.  Angelo,  with  an  arrogant  air. 

"His  princely  rank,"  replied  AValdershare,  "but  not  his 
royalty." 

"That  is  a  mere  refinement,"  said  the  duke  contempt- 
uously. 

"  On  the  contrary,  a  clear  distinction,  and  specifically  made 
in  the  treaty.  I  do  not  think  the  prince  himself  would  desire 
such  a  ceremony,  and  let  me  recommend  you,  duke,"  added 
Waldershare,  "not  to  go  out  of  your  way  to  insist  on  these 
points.    They  will  not  increase  the  prince's  popularity." 

"The  time  will  come,  and  before  long,  when  the  Treaty  of 
Vienna,  with  its  clear  distinctions,  will  be  at  the  bottom  of  the 
Red  Sea,"  said  the  Duke  of  St.  Angelo,  "and  then  no  one  will 
sit  when  his  Majesty  rises." 

"Amen!"  said  Waldershare.  "All  diplomacy  since  the 
Treaty  of  Utrecht  seems  to  me  to  be  fiddle-faddle,  and  the 
country  rewarded  the  great  man  who  made  that  treaty  by  an 
attainder." 

Endymion  returned  to  town  toward  the  end  of  September, 


I  I    « 


t      1 


2<.)0 


JJiVZ)  VMIOX. 


Wuklcrsliarc  went  to  Paris,  and  Lord  Beaumaris  and  the 
prince, who  liad  Ijccome  intimate,  repaired  together  to  Coning- 
ton,  the  seat  of  Lord  Beaumaris,  to  kill  pheasants.  Even  the 
Rodneys,  who  had  gone  to  the  Rhine  this  year,  had  not  re- 
turned. Endymion  luid  only  the  society  of  his  felloAV-clerks. 
lie  liked  Trenchard,  who  was  acute,  full  of  official  information, 
and  of  gentle  breeding.  Still  it  must  be  confessed  that  En- 
dymion felt  the  change  in  his  society.  Seymour  Ilicks  was 
hardly  a  fit  successor  to  Waldershare,  and  Jawett's  rabid  ab- 
stractions on  government  were  certainly  not  so  interesting  a3 
la  Jiaute  iwlitique  of  the  Duke  of  St.  Angelo.  Were  it  not  for 
the  letters  which  ho  constantly  received  from  his  sister,  ho 
would  have  felt  a  little  despondent.  As  it  was,  he  renewed  his 
studies  in  his  pleasant  garret,  trained  himself  in  his  French 
and  German,  and  got  up  several  questions  for  the  L^nion. 

The  month  seemed  very  long,  but  it  was  not  unprofitably 
spent.  The  Rodneys  were  still  absent.  They  had  not  returned 
as  they  had  intended  direct  to  England,  but  had  gone  to  Paris 
to  meet  Mr.  Waldershare. 

At  the  end  of  October  there  was  a  semi-official  paragraph 
announcing  the  approaching  meeting  of  the  Cabinet,  and  the 
movements  of  its  members.  Some  were  in  the  north,  and  some 
were  in  the  south  ;  some  were  killing  the  last  grouse,  and  some, 
placed  in  green  ridings,  Avere  blazing  in  battues.  But  all  were 
to  be  at  their  post  in  ten  days,  and  there  was  a  special  notifica- 
tion that  intelligence  had  been  received  of  the  arrival  of  Lord 
and  Lady  Roehampton  at -Gibraltar. 


CHAPTER  XLVIL 

Lady  Roehampton,  in  her  stately  mansion  in  St.  James' 
Square,  found  life  very  different  from  what  she  had  experienced 
in  her  Andalusian  dream.  For  three  months  she  had  been  the 
constant  companion  of  one  of  the  most  fascinating  of  men, 
whose  only  object  had  been  to  charm  and  delight  her.  And  in 
this  he  had  entirely  succeeded.     From  the  moment  they  arrived 


Paris 


LORD  AXn  LADY  ROEIIAMPlOy. 


207 


'<# 


in  London,  however,  tlicy  seemed  to  be  separated,  tind  iilthoiigh 
wlicn  they  met,  there  -was  ever  a  sweet  smile  and  a  kind  and 
playful  word  for  her,  his  brow,  if  not  oppressed  with  care,  was 
always  weighty  with  thought.  Lord  lloehumpton  was  little  at 
his  office  ;  he  worked  in  a  spacious  chamber  on  the  ground 
iloor  of  his  private  residence,  and  which  was  called  the  library, 
though  its  literature  consisted  only  of  Ilan&ard,  volumes  of 
state  papers,  shelves  of  treatises,  and  interminable  folios  of 
parliamentary  reports.  He  had  not  been  at  home  a  week  be- 
fore the  floor  of  the  apartment  was  literally  covered  with  red 
boxes,  all  containing  documents  requiring  attention,  and  which 
messengers  were  perpetually  bringing  or  carrying  away.  Then 
there  were  long  meetings  of  the  Cabinet  almost  daily,  and  daily 
visits  from  ambassadors  and  foreign  ministers,  which  i)rc vented 
the  transaction  of  the  current  business,  and  rendered  it  neces- 
sary that  Lord  Rochampton  should  sit  up  late  in  his  cabinet, 
and  work  sometimes  nearly  till  the  hours  of  dawn.  There  had 
been  of  course  too  some  arrears  of  business,  for  secretaries  of 
state  can  not  indulge  with  impunity  in  Andalusian  dreams, 
but  Lord  Roehampton  was  well  served.  His  under  secretaries 
of  state  were  capable  and  experienced  men,  and  their  chief  had 
not  been  altogether  idle  in  his  wanderings.  lie  had  visited 
Paris,  and  the  capital  of  France  in  those  days  was  the  capital 
of  diplomacy.  The  visit  of  Lord  Roehampton  had  settled  some 
questions  which  might  have  lingered  for  years,  and  had  given 
him  that  opportunity  of  personal  survey  which  to  a  statesman 
is  invaluable. 

Although  it  was  not  the  season,  the  great  desert  had,  com- 
paratively speaking,  again  become  peopled.  There  were  many 
persons  in  town,  and  they  all  called  immediately  on  Lady  Roe- 
hampton. The  ministerial  families  and  the  diplomatic  corps 
alone  form  a  circle,  but  there  is  also  a  certain  number  of  charm- 
ing people  who  love  London  in  November,  and  lead  there  a 
wondrous  pleasant  life  of  real  amusement,  until  their  feudal 
traditions  and  their  domestic  duties  summon  them  back  to 
their  Christmas  homes. 

Lord  and  Lady  Roehampton  gave  constant  dinners,  and  after 
they  had  tried  two  or  three,  he  expressed  his  wish  to  his  wife  that 


I 


208 


END  YMIOX. 


she  sliould  hold  a  small  reception  after  these  dinners.  lie  was  a 
man  of  great  tact,  and  he  wished  to  launch  his  wife  quietly 
xmd  safely  on  the  social  ocean.  **  There  is  nothing  like  prac- 
ticing before  Christmas,  my  love,"  he  would  say,  "you  will 
get  your  hand  in,  and  be  able  to  hold  regular  receptions  in  the 
spring."  And  he  was  quite  right.  The  dinners  became  the 
mode,  and  the  assemblies  were  eagerly  appreciated.  The  Secre- 
tary of  the  Treasury  whispered  to  an  Under-Secretary  of  State, 
''This  marriage  was  a  coup.     We  have  got  another  house." 

Myra  had  been  a  little  anxious  about  the  relations  between 
Lord  Roehampton  and  her  brother.  She  felt  with  a  woman's 
instinct,  that  her  husband  might  not  bo  overplcased  by  her 
devotion  to  Endymion,  and  she  could  not  resist  the  conviction 
that  the  disparity  of  age  which  is  easily  forgotf'-n  in  a  wife, 
xmd  especially  in  a  wife  who  adores  you,  assumes  a  different, 
and  somcAvhat  distasteful  character,  when  a  great  statesman  is 
obliged  to  recognize  it  in  the  shape  of  a  boyisli  brother-in-law. 
But  all  went  right,  for  the  sweetness  of  Lord  Roehampton's 
temper  was  inexhaustible.  Endymion  had  paid  several  visits 
to  St.  James'  Square  before  Myra  could  seize  the  opportunity, 
for  which  she  was  ever  watching,  to  make  her  husband  and  her 
brother  acquainted. 

*'  And  so  you  are  one  of  us,"  said  Lord  Roehampton,  with 
his  sweetest  smile  and  in  his  most  musical  tone,  "and  in  oflice. 
We  must  try  to  give  you  a  lift."  And  then  lie  asked  En- 
dymion who  was  his  chief,  and  how  he  liked  him,  and  then  he 
said,  "A  good  deal  depends  on  a  man's  chief.  I  was  under 
3'our  grandfather  when  I  first  entered  Parliament,  and  I  never 
knew  a  pleasanter  man  to  do  business  with.  He  never  made 
difficulties  ;  he  always  encouraged  one.    A  younker  likes  that." 

Lady  Roehampton  was  desirous  of  paying  some  attention  to 
all  those  wdio  had  been  kind  to  her  brother  ;  particularly  Mr. 
Waldershare  and  Lord  Beaumaris — and  she  wished  to  invite 
them  to  her  house.  "I  am  sure  Waldershare  would  like  to 
come,"  said  Endymion,  "but  Lord  Beaumaris,  I  know,  never 
goes  anywhere,  and  I  have  myself  heard  him  say  he  never 
would." 

"Yes,  my  lord  was  telling  me  Lord  Beaumaris  was  quite 


>.i 


?> 


1 


J 


THE  Xi;W  J/JX 


209 


quite 


farouche,  aiul  it  is  feared  that  we  may  lose  him.  That  would 
be  sad,"  said  Myra,  "for  he  is  powerful." 

*'I  should  like  very  much  if  you  could  give  me  a  card  for 
Mr.  Trenchard,''  said  Endymion  ;  "•  he  is  not  in  society,  but 
he  is  quite  a  gentleman." 

"You  shall  have  it,  my  dear.  I  have  always  liked  Mr. 
Trenchard,  and  I  dare  say,  some  day  or  other,  he  may  he  of 
use  to  you." 

The  Neuchatels  were  not  in  town,  but  Myra  saw  them  fre- 
quently, and  Mr.  Neuchatcl  often  dined  in  St.  James'  Square 
— but  the  ladies  always  declined  every  invitation  of  the  kind. 
They  came  up  from  Ilainault  to  see  Myra,  but  looked  as  if 
nothing  but  their  great  affection  would  prompt  such  a  sacrifice, 
and  seemed  always  pining  for  Arcadia.  Endymion,  however, 
not  unfrequently  continued  his  Sunday  visits  to  Ilainault,  to 
which  Mr.  Ncuchatel  had  given  him  a  general  welcome.  This 
young  gentleman,  indeed,  soon  experienced  a  considerable 
change  in  his  social  position.  Invitations  flocked  to  him,  and 
often  from  persons  whom  he  d'd  not  know,  and  Avho  did  not 
even  know  him.  He  went  by  the  name  of  Lady  Iloehanipton's 
brotlier,  and  that  was  a  sufficient  passport. 

"  We  arc  trying  to  get  up  a  carpet  dance  to-night,"  said 
Belinda  to  a  fair  friend.     "  Wluit  men  arc  in  town  ?  " 

"  "Well,  there  is  ^Ir.  Waldershare,  who  has  just  left  me." 

"I  have  asked  him." 

"Then  there  is  Lord  Willcsden  and  Henry  Grantley,  I 
know  they  are  passing  through  town — and  there  is  the  new 
man,  Lady  Eochamp ton's  brother." 

"  I  will  send  to  Lord  Willesden  and  Henry  Grantley  imme- 
diately, and  perhaps  you  will  send  a  card,  which  I  will  write 
here,  for  me  to  the  new  man." 

And  in  this  way  Mr.  Ferrars  soon  found  that  he  was  what 
is  called  "everywhere." 

One  of  the  most  interesting  acquaintances  that  Lady  Eoe- 
hampton  made  Avas  a  colleague  of  her  husband,  and  that  was 
Mr.  Sidney  Wilton,  once  the  intimate  friend  of  her  father.  He 
had  knoAvn  herself  and  her  brother  when  they  were  children, 
indeed  from  the  cradle.     Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  was  in  the  perfec- 


210 


ENDYMIOX. 


tion  of  middle  life,  and  looked  young  for  his  years.  lie  was 
tall  and  pensive,  and  naturally  sentimental,  though  a  long  po- 
litical career,  for  he  had  entered  the  House  of  Commons  for 
the  family  borough  the  instant  he  was  of  age,  had  brought  to 
this  susceptibility  a  salutary  har'lness.  Although  somewhat 
alienated  from  the  friend  of  his  youth  by  the  course  of  affairs, 
for  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  had  followed  Lord  Roehampton,  while 
Mr.  Ferrars  had  adhered  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  he  had 
not  neglected  Ferrars  in  his  fall,  but  his  offers  of  assistance, 
frankly  and  generously  made,  had  been  coldly  though  courte- 
ously rejected,  and  no  encouragement  had  been  given  to  the 
maintenance  of  their  once  intimate  acquaintance. 

Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  was  much  struck  by  the  appearance  of 
Lady  riochami)ton.  He  tried  to  compare  the  fulfdlment  of  her 
promise  with  the  beautiful  and  haughty  child  whom  he  used 
to  wonder  her  parents  so  extravagantly  spoiled.  Her  stature 
was  above  the  average  height  of  women  and  finely  developed 
and  proportioned.  liut  it  was  in  the  countenance — in  the  pel- 
lucid and  commanding  brow,  the  deep  splendor  of  her  dark- 
blue  eyes  softened  by  long  lashes,  her  short  njiper  lip,  and  the 
rich  profusion  of  her  dark  chestnut  hair — that  his  roused  mem- 
ory recalled  the  past ;  and  he  fell  into  a  mood  of  agitated  con- 
templation. 

The  opportunities  wliich  he  cnjoj'ed  of  cultivating  her  so- 
ciety were  numerous,  and  Mr.  Wilton  missed  none.  He  was 
frequently  her  guest,  and  being  himself  the  master  of  r  splen- 
did establishment,  he  could  offer  her  a  hospitality  which  every 
one  appreciated.  Lord  Rochamjjton  was  peculiarly  his  political 
chief,  and  they  had  alwa3-s  been  socially  intimate.  As  tlie 
trusted  colleague  of  her  husband — as  one  who  had  known  her 
in  her  childhood,  and  as  himself  a  man  singularly  qualified,  by 
his  agreeable  conversation  and  tender  and  deferential  manner, 
to  make  his  way  with  women — Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  had  no  great 
difficulty,  particularly  in  that  happy  demi-season  which  pre- 
cedes Christmas,  in  establishing  relations  of  confidence  and 
intimacy  with  Lady  Roehampton. 

The  cabinets  were  over  :  the  government  had  decided  on 
their  measures,  and  put  them  in  a  state  of  preparation,  and 


CIIIilSTMAs   AT  (lAYoHXi:. 


211 


--^ 


i 


they  were  about  to  (lis])er.se  for  a  inoiitli.  'V\\v  .-out  (»!'  \a)\\\ 
Roeliampton  was  in  the  extreme  iiortli  of  England,  and  a  viait 
to  it  was  inconvenient  at  this  moment,  and  especially  at  this 
season.  The  department  of  Lord  Koehampton  was  very  active 
at  this  time,  and  he  was  unwilling  that  the  first  impression  by 
his  wife  of  her  future  homo  should  bo  cxperienct  1  at  a  season 
little  favorable  to  the  charms  of  a  northern  seal.  Mr.  Sidney 
AVilton  was  the  proprietor  of  the  most  beautiful  and  the  most 
celebrated  villa  in  England  ;  only  twenty  miles  from  town, 
seated  on  a  wooded  crest  of  the  swan-crowned  Tliames,  with 
gardens  of  delight,  and  woods  full  of  j)heasant-!,  and  a  terrace 
that  would  have  become  a  court,  glancing  over  a  wide  exi)anso 
of  bower  and  glade,  studded  with  bright  halls  and  delicate  stee- 
ples, and  the  smoke  of  rural  homes. 

It  was  arranged  that  Lord  and  Lady  Roeliampton  should 
pass  their  Christmas  at  Gaydenc  with  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton,  stay 
as  long  as  they  liked,  go  where  they  chose,  but  make  it  their 
headquarters.  It  was  a  most  successful  visit ;  for  a  great  deal 
of  business  was  done,  as  well  as  pleasure  enjoyed.  The  ambas- 
sadors, who  arc  always  a  little  uneasy  at  Christmas  when  ever}'- 
body  is  away,  and  themselves  without  country  homes,  were  all 
invited  down  for  that  week.  Lord  Rochampton  used  to  give 
them  audiences  after  the  shooting  parties.  lie  thought  it  was 
a  specific  against  their  being  too  long.  He  used  to  say,  "  The 
first  dinner-bell  often  brings  things  to  a  point."  After  Christ- 
mas there  was  an  ever-varying  stream  of  company,  chiefly 
official  and  parliamentar3\  The  banquet  and  the  battue  did 
not  always  settle  the  business,  the  clause,  or  the  schedule, 
Avliich  the  guests  often  came  down  to  Gaydenc  ostensibly  to 
accomplish,  but  they  sent  men  back  to  town  with  increased 
energy  and  good  humor,  and  kept  the  party  in  heart.  Toward 
the  end  of  the  month  the  premier  came  down,  and  for  him  the 
Blue  Ribbon  Cover  had  been  reserved,  though  he  really  cared 
little  for  sport.  It  was  an  eighteenth-century  tradition  that 
knights  of  the  garter  had  only  been  permitted  lo  shoot  this 
choice  preserve,  but  Mr.  Sidney  AVilton,  in  this  advanced  age, 
did  not  of  course  revive  such  an  ultra-exclusive  practice,  and 
he  was  particular  in  arranging  the  party  to  include  ^Iv.  Jor- 


212 


END  YMIOX. 


rocks.  This  was  <a  radical  member  to  whom  considerable  office 
had  been  given  at  the  reconstruction  of  1835,  when  it  was 
necessary  that  the  Whigs  should  conciliate  the  Mountain.  lie 
was  a  pretentious,  underbred,  half-educated  man,  fluent  with 
all  the  commonplaces  of  middle-class  ambition,  which  are  hu- 
morously called  democratic  ojiinions,  but  at  heart  a  sj'cophant 
of  the  aristocracy,  lie  represented,  however,  a  large  and  im- 
jiortant  constituency,  and  his  jiromotion  was  at  first  looked 
upon  as  a  masterpiece  of  management.  The  Mountain,  who 
knew  Jorrocks  by  heart,  and  felt  that  they  had  in  their  ranks 
men  in  every  sense  his  superior,  and  that  he  could  be  no  rep- 
resentative of  their  intelligence  and  opinions,  and  so  by  degrees 
prepare  for  their  gradual  admission  to  the  sacred  land,  at  first 
sulked  over  the  promotion  of  their  late  comjjanion,  and  only 
did  not  publicly  deride  it  from  the  feeling  that  by  so  doing 
they  might  bo  playing  the  game  of  the  ministry'.  At  the  time 
of  Avhicli  we  arc  writing,  having  become  extremelv  discontented 
and  wishing  to  annoy  the  government,  they  even  affected  dis- 
satisfaction at  the  subordinate  position  which  Jorrocks  occu- 
pied in  the  administration,  and  it  was  generally  said — had 
become  indeed  the  slang  of  the  partj" — that  the  test  of  the 
eincerity  of  the  ministry  to  Liberal  principles  was  to  put 
Jorrocks  in  the  cabinet.  The  countenance  of  the  premier 
when  this  choice  programme  was  first  communicated  to  him 
was  Avhat  might  have  been  expected  had  he  learned  of  the  sud- 
den descent  upon  this  isle  of  an  invading  force,  and  the  Secre- 
tary of  tlie  Treasury  w^hispercd  in  confidence  to  one  or  two 
leaders  of  the  Mountain,  ''  that  if  they  did  not  take  care,  they 
would  upset  the  government." 

''That  is  exactly  what  we  want  to  do,"  was  the  reply. 

So  it  will  be  seen  that  the  position  of  the  ministry,  previous 
to  the  meeting  of  Parliament  in  1839,  was  somewhat  critical. 
In  the  mean  time,  its  various  mciiibers,  who  knew  their  man, 
lavished  every  practical  social  attention  on  Jorrocks.  The  din- 
ners they  gave  him  were  doubled  ;  they  got  their  women  to  call 
on  his  women  ;  and  Sidney  Wilton,  a  member  of  an  illustrious 
garter  family,  cnpped  the  climax  by  ajipointing  him  one  of  the 
party  to  shoot  the  Blue  Ribbon  Cover. 


jIq  office 
1  it  was 
lin.  He 
lit  with 
.  are  liu- 
cophant 
and  im- 
:  looked 
lin,  who 
ir  ranks 
no  rcp- 
'  degrees 
,  at  first 
nd  only 
0  doing 
;lie  time 
)ntcntcd 
ted  dis- 
ks occu- 
id — had 
t  of  the 

to  put 
premier 
L  to  him 
the  sad- 
e  Sccre- 

or  two 
re,  they 

previous 
critical, 
sir  man, 
rhe  din- 
n  to  call 
ustrious 
le  of  the 


ENDYMION'S  GOOD  FORTUXE. 


215 


,  "J 


Mr.  "Wilton  had  invited  Endymion  to  Gaydcne,  and  as  Ills', 
stay  there  could  only  he  brief,  had  even  invited  him  to  repeat 
the  visit.  He  was,  indeed,  unaffectedly  kind  to  one  Avliom  he 
remembered  so  young,  and  was  evidently  pleased  with  him. 

One  evening,  a  day  or  two  before  the  breaking  up  of  the  party, 
while  some  charming  Misses  Playfellow,  with  an  impudent 
brother,  who  all  lived  in  the  neighborhood,  were  acting  charades,. 
Mr.  Wilton  said  to  Lady  Roehampton,  by  whose  side  he  was  sit- 
ting in  the  circle  : 

"  I  have  had  a  very  busy  morning  about  my  office.  There 
is  to  be  a  complete  revolution  in  it.  .The  whole  system  is  to 
be  reconstructed  ;  half  the  present  people  are  to  be  pensioned 
off,  and  new  blood  is  to  be  introduced.  It  struck  me  that  this 
might  be  an  opening  for  your  brother.  He  is  in  the  public  ser- 
vice— that  is  something  ;  and  as  there  are  to  be  so  many  new 
men,  there  will  be  no  jealousy  as  to  his  promotion.  If  you  will 
speak  to  him  about  it,  and  he  likes  it,  I  will  appoint  him  one  of 
the  new  clerks  ;  and  then,  if  he  also  likes  it,  he  shall  be  my  pri- 
vate secretary.  That  will  give  him  position,  and  be  no  mean 
addition  to  his  income,  you  know,  if  we  last — but  that  depends, 
I  suppose,  on  Mr.  Jorrocks." 

Lady  Roehampton  communicated  all  this  to  her  brother  on 
her  return  to  London.  "  It  is  exactly  what  I  wished,"  she  said. 
''  I  wanted  you  to  be  private  secretary  to  a  cabinet  minister,  and 
if  I  were  to  chose  any  one,  except,  of  course,  my  lord,  it  would 
be  Mr.  Wilton.  He  is  a  perfect  gentleman,  and  was  dear  papa's 
friend.  I  understand  you  will  have  three  hundred  a  year  to  be- 
gin with,  and  the  same  amount  as  his  secretary.  You  ought  to 
be  able  to  live  with  ease  and  propriety  on  six  hundred  a  year — 
and  this  reminds  me  of  what  I  have  been  thinking  of  before  we 
went  to  Gaydene.  I  think  now  you  ought  to  have  a  more  becom- 
ing residence.  The  Rodneys  are  good  people,  I  do  not  doubt,  and 
I  dare  say  we  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  proving  our  sense  of 
their  services  ;  but  they  are  not  exactly  the  people  that  I  care 
for  you  to  live  with,  and,  at  any  rate,  you  can  not  reside  any 
longer  in  a  garret.  I  have  taken  some  chambers  in  the  Albany, 
therefore,  for  you,  and  they  shall  be  my  contribution  to  your 
housekeeping.     They  arc  not  badly  furnished,  but  they  belonged 


il 


!  ! 


|i  I  I 


!  I 


214 


ENDYMIOX. 


to  an  old  general  officer,  and  arc  not  very  new-fashioned  ;  but 
Ave  will  go  together  and  sec  them  to-morrow,  and  T  dare  say  I 
shall  goon  be  able  to  make  them  comme  ilfaut.'^ 


CHAPTER   XLVIII. 

This  considerable  rise  in  the  life  of  Endymion,  after  the 
first  excitement  occasioned  by  its  announcement  to  him  had 
somewhat  subsided,  was  not  contemplated  by  him  witli  un- 
mixed feelings  of  satisfaction.  It  seemed  to  terminate  many 
relations  of  life,  the  value  of  which  he  had  alwa3^s  appreciated, 
but  which  now,  Avith  their  impending  conclusion,  he  felt,  and 
felt  keenly,  had  absolutely  contributed  to  his  hap})iness.  There 
was  no  great  pang  in  fjuitting  his  fellow-clerks,  except  Trencli- 
ard,  whom  he  greatly  esteemed.  But  poor  little  Warwick 
Street  had  been  to  him  a  real  home,  if  unvarying  kindness, 
and  sedulous  attention,  and  the  atfcction  of  the  eyes  and  heart, 
as  well  as  of  the  mouth,  can  make  a  hearth.  He  hoped  he 
might  preserve  the  friendship  of  Waldershare,  which  their 
joint  intimacy  with  the  prince  Avould  favor  ;  but  still  he  could 
hardly  flatter  himself  that  the  delightful  familiarity  of  their 
past  lives  could  subsist.  Endymion  sighed;  and  then  he  sighed 
again.  He  felt  sad.  Because  he  was  leaving  the  humble  har- 
bor of  refuge,  the  entrance  to  which,  even  in  the  darkest  hour 
of  his  fallen  fortunes,  was  thought  somewhat  of  an  indignity, 
and  was  about  to  assume  a  position  Avhich  would  not  have  alto- 
gether misbecome  the  earliest  expectations  of  his  life  ?  That 
seems  unreasonable  ;  but  mankind,  fortunately,  are  not  always 
governed  by  reason,  but  by  sentiment,  and  often  by  very  tender 
sentiment. 

When  Endymion,  sitting  in  his  little  room,  analyzed  his 
feelings,  ho  came  to  the  conclusion  that  his  sadness  was  occa- 
sioned by  his  having  to  part  from  Imogene.  It  often  recpiires 
an  event  in  life,  and  an  unexpected  one,  to  make  us  clearly 
aware  of  the  existence  of  feelings  which  have  long  influenced 
us.     Never  having  been  in  a  position  in  which  the  possibility 


d ;  but 
■e  say  I 


tcr  the 
im  liad 
itli  un- 
}  miiiiy 
?ciatcd, 
?lt,  and 

There 
rrench- 
k''ar\vick 
iidncss, 
\  heart, 
)pcd  he 
h  their 
c  could 
jf  their 

sighed 
blc  har- 

st  hour 
lignitVj 
ve  alto- 
That 

always 

tender 

zed  his 
IS  occa- 
•equires 
clearly 
uenced 
ibility 


-t 


t 


ENDYMWN  SPECULATES  ON  IIIS  EUTUEE.       215 

of  uniting  his  fate  to  another  could  cross  liis  mind  for  a  mo- 
ment, he  had  been  content  with  the  good  fortune  Avhich  per- 
mitted a  large  portion  of  his  life  to  be  passed  in  tlie  society  of 
a  woman  wliOj  unconsciously  both  to  him  and  to  herself,  had 
fascinated  liim.  The  graceful  child  who,  four  or  five  years 
ago,  had  first  lit  him  to  his  garret,  without  losing  anything  of 
her  rare  and  simple  ingenuousness,  had  developed  into  a  beau- 
tiful and  accomplished  woman.  There  was  a  strong  resem- 
blance between  Imogcnc  and  her  sister,  but  Imogene  was  a 
brunette.  Her  countenance  indicated  far  more  intellect  and 
character  than  that  of  Sylvia.  Tier  brow  was  delicately  pen- 
ciled and  finely  arched,  and  her  large  dark  ej'es  gleamed  witli 
a  softness  and  sweetness  of  expression,  which  were  irresistibly 
attractive,  and  seemed  to  indicate  sympathy  witli  everything 
that  was  good  and  beautiful.  Her  features  Avere  not  so  regu- 
lar as  her  sister's ;  but  when  she  smiled,  her  face  was  cajiti- 
vating. 

Endymion  had  often  li-tencd,  half  with  fondness  and  half 
with  skepticism,  to  AValdershare  dilating,  according  to  his  wont, 
on  the  character  and  qualities  of  Imogene,  whom  he  persisted 
in  believing  he  was  preparing  for  a  great  career.  ''How  it 
will  come  about  I  can  not  say,"  he  Avould  remark;  *'but  it 
will  come.  If  my  legitimate  sovereign  were  on  the  throne, 
and  I  in  the  possession  of  my  estates,  Avhich  were  graciously 
presented  by  the  usurper  to  the  sausage-makers,  or  some  other 
choice  middle-class  corporation,  I  would  marry  her  myself. 
But  that  is  impossible.  Tliat  would  only  be  asking  her  to 
share  my  ruin.  I  want  lier  to  live  in  palaces,  and  perhaps  in 
my  decline  of  life,  make  me  her  librarian,  like  Casanova.  I 
should  be  content  to  dine  in  her  hall  every  day  beneath  the 
salt,  and  see  her  enter  with  her  state,  amid  the  flourish  of 
trumpets."  And  now,  strange  to  say,  Endymion  was  specu- 
lating on  the  fate  of  Imogene,  and,  as  he  thought.  In  a  more 
practical  spirit.  Six  hundred  a  year,  lie  thought,  was  not  a 
very  large  income  ;  but  it  was  an  income,  and  one  which  a 
year  ago  he  never  contemplated  possessing,  until  getting  gray 
in  the  public  service.  Why  not  realize  perfect  happiness  at 
once  ?    He  could  conceive  no  bliss  greater  tlian  living  with 


216 


ENDYMIOX. 


Imogcno  in  one  of  tliose  little  villas,  even  if  scmi-dotached, 
which  arc  now  numbered  by  tens  of  thousands,  and  which 
were  then  beginning  to  shoot  out  their  suburban  antennce  in 
every  direction  of  our  huge  metropolis.  He  saw  her  in  his 
mind's  eye  in  a  garden  of  perpetual  sunshine,  breathing  of 
mignonette  and  bright  with  roses,  and  waiting  for  him  as  ho 
came  down  from  town  and  his  daily  labors,  in  the  cheap  and 
convenient  omnibus.  What  a  delightful  companion  to  wel- 
come him  !  How  much  to  tell  her,  and  how  much  to  listen 
to  !  And  then  their  evenings  with  a  delicious  book  or  some 
delightful  music  !  What  holidays,  too,  of  romantic  adven- 
ture !  The  vine-clad  Rhine,  perhaps  Switzerland  ;  at  any  rate, 
the  quaint  old  cities  of  Flanders,  and  the  winding  valley  of 
the  Meuse.  They  could  live  extremely  well  on  six  hundred  a 
year ;  yes,  with  all  the  real  refinements  of  existence.  And  all 
this  genuine  happiness  was  to  be  sacrificed  for  utterly  fantastic 
and  imaginary  gratifications,  which,  if  analyzed,  would  be 
found  only  to  be  efforts  to  amuse  and  astonish  others. 

It  did  not  yet  occur  to  Endymion  that  his  garden  could  not 
always  be  sunshiny  ;  that  cares  crop  up  in  villas,  even  semi- 
detached, as  well  as  joys  ;  that  he  would  have  children,  and 
perhaps  too  many  ;  that  they  would  be  sick,  and  tliat  doctors' 
bills  would  soon  put  a  stop  to  romantic  excursions  ;  that  his 
wife  would  become  exhausted  with  nursing,  and  clothing,  and 
teaching  them  ;  that  she  herself  would  become  an  invalid,  and 
moped  to  death  ;  that  his  resources  would  every  day  bear  a  less 
l)roportion  to  his  expenditure  ;  and  that  wanting  money,  he 
would  return  too  often'  from  town  a  harassed  husband  to  a 
jaded  wife  ! 

Mr.  R:dney  and  Sylvia  were  at  Conington  on  a  visit  to 
Lord  Beaumaris,  hunting.  It  was  astonishing  how  Sylvia  had 
rode  to  the  hounds,  mounted  on  the  choices c  steeds,  and  in  a 
scarlet  habit  which  had  been  presented  to  her  by  Mr.  Vigo. 
She  had  created  quite  an  enthusiasm  in  the  field,  and  Lord 
Beaumaris  was  proud  of  his  guests.  When  Endymion  parted 
with  his  sister  at  the  Albany,  where  they  had  been  examining 
his  rooms,  he  had  repaired  io  Warwick  Street,  with  some  ex- 
pectation that  the  Rodneys  would  have  returned  from  Coning" 


r 


i 


EXDYMIOX  AXD  IMOGEXE. 


21T 


[otached, 
d  which 
tcnnre  in 
n*  in  his 
ithing  of 
im  as  ho 
heap  and 
1  to  wcl- 
to  listen 
or  some 
ic  adven- 
any  rate, 
valley  of 
uindred  a 
And  all 
'  fantastic 
would  be 

• 

could  not 
jven  scmi- 
rcn,  and 
doctors* 
that  his 
lung,  and 
alid,  and 
)ear  a  less 
tioney,  he 
and  to  a 

visit  to 
ylvia  had 
and  in  a 
^Ir.  Vigo. 
nd  Lord 
n  parted 
amining 
some  ex- 
Coning' 


ton,  and  he  intended  to  break  to  his  host  the  impending  change 
in  his  life.  The  Rodneys,  however,  had  not  arrived,  and  so  ho 
ascended  to  his  room,  where  he  had  been  employed  in  arrang- 
ing his  books  and  papers,  and  in  indulging  in  tlie  reverie  whicli 
we  have  indicated.  AVhen  he  came  down  stairs,  wishing  to  in- 
quire about  the  probable  arrival  of  his  landlord,  Endymion 
knocked  at  the  door  of  the  joarlor  where  ihcy  used  to  assemble, 
and  on  entering,  found  Imogene  writing. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Ferrars  ?  "  slie  said,  rising.  *•  I  am 
writing  to  Sylvia.  They  are  not  returning  as  soon  as  they  in- 
tended, and  I  am  to  go  down  to  Conington  by  an  early  train 
to-morrow." 

"  I  wanted  to  see  Mr.  Rodney,"  said  Endymion  moodily. 

"  Can  I  write  anything  to  him,  or  tell  him  anything  ?"  said 
Imogene. 

"  No,"  continued  Endj'mion,  in  a  melancholy  tone.  '*I 
can  tell  you  what  I  wanted  to  say.  But  you  must  be  occupied 
now,  going  away,  and  unexpectedly,  to-morrow.  It  seems  to 
me  that  every  one  is  going  away." 

**  Well,  we  have  lost  the  prince,  certainly,"  said  Imogene, 
''and  I  doubt  Avhcthcr  his  rooms  will  be  ever  let  again." 

"  Indeed  ! "  said  Endymion. 

"Well,  I  only  know  what  Mr.  Waldersharc  tells  me.  lie 
says  that  Mr.  Rodney  and  Mr.  Vigo  have  made  a  great  specu- 
lation, and  gained  a  great  deal  of  money  ;  but  Mr.  Rodney 
never  speaks  to  me  of  such  matters,  nor  indeed  does  Sylvia.  I 
am  myself  very  sorry  that  the  prince  is  gone,  for  he  interested 
me  much." 

"  Well,  I  should  think  Mr.  Rodney  would  not  be  very  sorry 
to  get  rid  of  me,  then,"  said  Endymion. 

"  Oh  !  Mr.  Ferrars,  why  should  you  say  or  think  such 
things  ?  I  am  sure  that  my  brother  and  sister,  and  indeed 
every  one  in  this  house,  always  consider  your  comfort  and  wel- 
fare before  any  other  object." 

"Yes,"  said  Endymion,  *'you  have  all  been  most  kind  to 
me,  and  that  makes  me  more  wretched  at  the  prospect  of  leav- 
ing you." 

"  But  there  is  no  prospect  of  that  ?  " 

10  ' 


A 


218 


END  YMION. 


[■    :■ 


\' 


"A  certainty,  Imogene  ;  there  is  going  to  be  a  cliange  in 
my  life,"  and  tlicn  \e  told  her  all. 

*'  "Well,"  said  Tmogene,  '*  it  would  be  selfish  not  to  be  hap- 
py at  what  I  hear  ;  but  though  I  hope  I  am  linppy,  I  need  not 
be  joyful.  I  never  used  to  be  nervous,  but  I  am  afraid  I  am 
getting  so.  All  these  great  changes  rather  shake  me.  This 
adventure  of  the  prince — as  Mr.  Waldcrshare  says,  it  is  history. 
Then  Miss  Myra's  groat  marriage,  and  your  promotion — al- 
though they  are  exactly  what  we  used  to  dream  about,  and 
wished  a  fairy  would  accomplish,  and  somehow  felt  that,  some- 
how or  other,  they  must  happen — yet,  now  they  have  occurred, 
one  id  almost  as  astounded  as  delighted.  We  certainly  have  been 
very  happy  in  Warwick  Street,  at  least  I  have  been,  all  living 
as  it  were  together.  But  where  shall  we  be  this  time  next 
year  ?  All  scattered,  and  perhaps  not  even  the  Rodneys  under 
this  roof.  I  know  not  how  it  is,  but  I  dread  leaving  the  roof 
where  one  has  been  happy." 

''  Oh  !  you  know  you  must  leave  it  one  day  or  other,  Imo- 
gene.    You  are  sure  to  marry  ;  that  you  can  not  avoid." 

"  Well,  I  am  not  by  any  means  sure  about  that,"  said  Imo- 
gene. "  Mr.  Waldcrshare,  in  educating  me,  as  he  says,  as  a 
princess,  has  made  me  really  neither  fish,  flesh,  nor  fowl,  nor 
even  that  coarser  but  popular  delicacy  never  forgotten.  I  could 
not  unite  n:  /  life  with  a  being  who  was  not  refined  in  mind  and 
in  manners,  and  the  men  of  my  class  in  life,  who  are  the  only 
ones  after  all  who  might  care  to  marry  me,  shock  my  taste.  I 
am  ^amed  to  say  so.  .  I  am  not  sure  it  is  not  wicked  to  think 
it  even  ;  but  so  it  is." 

''Why  do  you  not  marry  Waldcrshare  ?  "  said  Endymion. 

"  That  would  bo  madness  !  I  do  not  know  any  alliance 
that  could  prove  more  unfortunate ;  Mr.  Waldcrshare  must 
never  marry.  All  people  of  imagination,  they  say,  are  diflficult 
to  live  with  ;  but  a  person  who  consists  solely  of  imagination, 
like  Mr.  Waldersharf  who  has  indeed  no  other  attribute — be- 
fore a  year  was  past,  married,  he  would  fly  to  the  desert  or  to 
La  Trappe,  commit  terrible  scandals  from  mere  weariness  of 
feeling,  write  pasquinades  against  the  wife  of  his  bosom,  and 
hold  us  both  up  to  the  fierce  laughter  of  the  world.     No,  no  j 


<v 


WHITEHALL, 


210 


liaiige  in 

D  be  hap- 
necd  not 
[•iiid  I  am 
ic.     This 
s  history. 
)tion — al- 
bout,  and 
lat,  some- 
occurred, 
have  been 
all  living 
time  next 
leys  under 
g  the  roof 

ther,  Imo- 

lid." 

said  Inio- 
says,  as  a 
fowl,  nor 

[1.  I  could 
mind  and 
the  onlj 
taste.  I 
d  to  think 

dymion. 
ly  alliance 
hare  must 
•e  difficult 
[agination, 
ibute^be- 
lesert  or  to 
jariness  of 
[osom,  and 
No,  no ; 


;*, 


mt% 


$. 


he  is  the  best,  the  dearest,  and  the  most  romantic  of  friends  ; 
tender  as  a  father,  and  sometimes  as  wise,  for  genius  can  be 
everything.  He  is  going  to  rise  early  to-morrow,  wliich  he 
particularly  dislikes,  because  he  will  not  let  me  go  to  the  sta- 
tion alone  ;  though  I  tell  him,  as  I  often  tell  him,  those  are 
the  becoming  manners  of  my  class." 

'■But  you  might  meet  a  person  of  the  icfincmcnt  you  re- 
quire," said  Endymion,  *Mvith  a  moderate  and  yet  a  sufhcient 
income,  who  would  not  be  unworthy  of  you." 

"I  doubt  it,"  said  Imogene. 

*'But,  do  not  doubt  it,  dear  Imogene,"  said  Endj'mion, 
advancing,  *'  such  charms  as  yours,  both  of  body  and  of  mind, 
such  a  companion  in  life,  so  refined,  so  accomplished,  and  yet 
endowed  with  such  clear  sense,  and  such  a  sweet  disposition — 
believe  me —  ! " 

But,  at  this  moment,  a  splendid  equipage  drove  up  to  the 
door,  with  powdered  footmen  and  long  canes  behind,  and  then 
a  terrible  rap,  like  the  tattoo  of  a  field-marshal. 

''Good  gracious  !  what  is  all  this  ?"  exclaimed  Imogene. 

"lu  is  my  sister,"  said  Endymion,  blushing.  "It  is  Lady 
Roehampton." 

"  I  must  go  to  her  myself,"  said  Imogene,  "  I  can  not  have 
the  servant  attend  upon  your  sister." 

Endymion  remained  silent  and  confused.  Imogene  was 
some  little  time  at  the  carriage-door,  for  Lady  Roehampton 
had  inquiries  to  make  after  Sylvia  and  other  courteous  things 
10  say,  and  then  Imogene  returned,  and  said  to  Endymion, 
"  Lady  Roehampton  wishes  you  to  go  with  her  directly  on  some 
particular  business." 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

ExDYMiox  liked  his  new  official  life  very  much.  White- 
hall was  a  great  improvement  on  Somerset  House,  and  he  had 
sufficient  experience  of  the  civil  service  to  duly  appreciate  the 
advantage  of  being  permanently  quartered  in  one  of  the  chief 
departments  of  the  state,  instead  of  obscurely  laboring  in  a 


220 


FXUYMION. 


siiljordin.ite  office,  -with  a  I'mitecl  future,  and  detached  from 
all  the  keenly  interesting  details  of  }.aljlic  life.  But  it  was  not 
liiis  permanent  and  substantial  advantage  which  occasioned 
him  such  lively  and  such  novel  pleasure  as  the  fact  of  his  be- 
ing a  private  secretary,  and  a  private  secretary  to  a  cabinet 
minister. 

The  relations  between  a  minister  and  his  secretary  are,  or 
at  least  should  be,  among  the  finest  that  can  subsist  between 
two  individuals.  Except  the  married  state,  there  is  none  in 
which  so  great  a  degree  of  confidence  is  involved,  in  which 
more  forbearance  ought  to  be  exercised,  or  more  sympathy 
ought  to  exist.  There  is  usually  in  the  relation  an  identity  of 
interest,  and  that  of  the  highest  kind. ;  and  the  perpetual  dif- 
ficulties, the  alternations  of  triumph  and.  defeat,  develoj)  devo- 
tion. A  youthful  secretary  will  naturally  feel  some  degree  of 
enthusiasm  for  his  chief,  and  a  wise  minister  Avill  never  stint 
his  regard  for  one  in  whose  intelligence  and  honor  he  finds  ho 
can  place  confidence. 

There  never  was  a  happier  prospect  of  these  relations  being 
established  on  the  most  satisfactory  basis  than  in  the  instance 
of  Endymion  and  his  ncAV  master.  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  was  a 
man  of  noble  disposition,  fine  manners,  considerable  culture, 
and  was  generally  gracious.  But  he  was  disposed  to  be  more 
than  gracious  to  Endymion,  and  when  he  found  that  our  young 
friend  had  a  capacity  for  work — that  his  perception  was  quick 
and  clear — that  he  wrote  with  facility — never  made  difficulties 
— was  calm,  sedulous,  -and  patient,  the  interest  which  Mr. 
Wilton  took  in  him  as  the  son  of  William  Ferrars,  and,  wo 
must  add,  as  the  brother  of  Lady  Roehampton,  became  ab- 
sorbed in  the  personal  regard  Avhich  the  minister  soon  enter- 
tained for  his  secretary.  Mr.  Wilton  found  a  pleasure  in 
forming  tiie  mind  of  Endymion  to  the  consideration  and  com- 
prehension of  public  affairs  ;  he  spoke  to  him  both  of  men  and 
things  without  reserve  ;  revealed  to  him  the  characters  of  lead- 
ing personages  on  both  sides,  illustrated  their  antecedents,  and 
threw  light  upon  their  future  ;  taught  him  the  real  condition 
of  parties  in  Parliament,  rarely  to  be  found  in  newspapers ; 
and  finally,  when  he  was  sufficiently  initiated,  obtained  for  liis 


'4 


led  from 
t  'WHS  not 
3casioned 
>f  his  be- 
X  cabinet 


ry  arc,  or 
,  between 
3  none  in 
in  wliich 
sympathy 
ientity  of 
ctual  dif- 
?lop  devo- 
degree  of 
ever  stint 
B  finds  ho 

ions  being 
e  instance 
ton  was  a 
culture, 
be  more 
)ur  young 
was  quick 
[ifficulties 
[hich  Mr. 
and,  wc 
?came  ab- 
)on  enter- 
jasure   in 
land  com- 
mon and 
k  of lead- 
lents,  and 
Icondition 
[\^spapers ; 
}d  for  hi» 


J/i?.    WILTO.Wi  A7Mjyj:SS. 


2'2i 


1  ^ 


! 


GPcretary  a  key  for  his  cabinet  boxes,  whicli  left  liHlc  of  tlio 
business  of  j;overiiment  unknown  to  Endymion. 

Such  great  confidence,  and  tliat  exhibited  by  one  wlio  pos- 
sessed so  many  winning  qualities  excited  in  the  breast  of  En- 
dymion tlie  most  lively  feelings  of  gratitude  and  regard.  lie 
tried  to  prove  them  by  the  vigilant  and  unwearying  labor  with 
which  he  served  his  master,  and  he  served  him  every  day  more 
effectually,  because  every  day  he  became  more  intimate  v.ith 
the  mind  and  methv>d  of  Mr.  Wilton.  Every  one  to  a  certain 
degree  is  a  mannerist ;  every  one  has  his  ways  ;  and  a  secretary 
will  bo  assisted  in  the  transaction  of  business  if  a  vigilant  ob- 
servation has  made  him  acquainted  with  the  idiosyncrasy  of 
his  chief. 

The  regulations  of  the  ofllcc  which  authorize  a  clerk,  ap- 
pointed to  a  private  secretaryship,  to  deviate  from  the  routine 
duties  of  the  department,  and  devote  his  time  entirely  to  the 
special  requirements  of  his  master,  of  course  mucli  assisted  En- 
dymion, and  Avas  also  a  pleasant  relief,  for  he  had  had  enough 
at  Somerset  House  of  copying  documents  and  drawing  up  for- 
mal reports.  But  it  was  not  only  at  Whitehall  that  he  saw  ^Ir. 
Wilton,  and  experienced  his  kindness.  Endymion  was  a  fre- 
quent guest  under  Mr.  Wilton's  roof,  and  Mr.  AVilton's  estab- 
lishment was  one  of  the  most  distinguished  in  London.  They 
met  also  much  in  the  eve^-'-ngs,  and  always  at  Lady  Roehamp- 
ton's,  where  Mr.  Wilton  was  never  absent.  Whenever  and 
wherever  they  met,  even  if  they  had  been  working  together  the 
Avliole  morning,  Mr.  Wilton  alwavs  sxreeted  Endvmion  with  the 
utmost  consideration — because  he  knew  such  a  recognition 
would  raise  Endymion  in  the  eyes  of  the  social  herd,  who  al- 
ways observe  little  things,  and  generally  form  from  them  their 
opinions  of  great  affairs. 


.-if. 


222 


END  YM  ION. 


CHAPTER   L. 

Mr.  Wilton  Avas  ut  Charing  Cross,  on  his  way  to  liis  office, 
■when  a  hidy  saluted  iiim  from  her  carriage,  whicli  tlien  drovv 
up  to  the  pavement  and  stopped. 

''We  have  just  arrived,"  said  Lady  Montfort,  "and  I  want 
you  to  give  me  a  little  dinner  to-day.  My  lord  is  going  to 
dine  with  an  Old  Bailey  lawyer,  who  amuses  him,  and  I  do  not 
like  to  be  left,  the  first  day,  on  the  pavS."" 

"■  I  can  give  you  a  rather  large  dinner,  if  you  care  to  come," 
said  Mr.  AVilton,  "but  I  fear  you  will  not  like  it.  I  have  got 
some  House  of  Commons  men  dining  with  me  to-day,  and  one 
or  two  of  the  other  house  to  meet  them.  My  sister  Georgina 
has  very  good-naturedly  promised  to  come,  with  her  husband, 
and  I  have  Just  written  a  note  to  the  Duchess  Dowager  of  Kes- 
wick, who  often  helps  me — but  I  fear  this  sort  of  thing  Avould 
hardly  suit  you." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  think  it  will  be  very  amusing.  Only 
do  not  put  me  between  two  of  your  colleagues.  Anybody 
amuses  me  for  once.  A  new  accpiaintancc  is  like  a  new  book. 
I  prefer  it,  even  if  bad,  to  a  classic." 

The  dinner  party  to-day  at  Mr.  Wilton's  was  miscellaneous, 
and  not  heterogeneous  enough  to  produce  constraint,  only  to 
l)roduce  a  little  excitement — some  commoners  liigli  in  office, 
and  the  Treasury  whip,  several  manufacturers  who  stood  to- 
gether in  the  room,  and  «o:nc  metropolitan  members.  Georgi- 
na's  husband,  who  was  a  lord  in  waiting,  and  a  great  swell,  in 
a  green  ribbon,  moved  about  with  adroit  condescension,  and 
was  bewitchingly  affable.  The  manufacturing  members  Avhis- 
pered  to  each  other  that  it  Avas  a  wise  thing  to  bring  the  tAVo 
houses  together,  but  Avhen  Her  Grace  the  Duchess  DoAvager  of 
KesAvick  Avas  announced,  they  exchanged  glances  of  astounded 
satisfaction,  and  felt  that  the  government,  Avhicli  had  been 
thought  to  be  in  a  somcAvhat  rickety  condition,  would  certainly 
stand.  '  • 

Berengaria  came  a  little  late,  not  A'cry.  She  thought  it  had 
been  earlier,  but  it  Avas  not.     The  duchess  dowager  opened  her 


AT  DIXXER. 


223 


I  Ills  office, 
then  drevv^ 

mcl  I  want 
3  going  to 
d  I  do  not 


to  come," 
I  have  got 
y,  and  one 
r  Georgina 
L'  husband, 
rer  of  Kes- 


ling  would 


ng.     Only 

Anybody 

new  book. 


;cllaneous, 

;t,  only  to 

in  office, 

stood  to- 

Georgi- 

:  swell,  in 

ision,  and 

bers  Avhis- 

g  the  two 

owager  of 

astounded 

had  been 

certainly 

^ht  it  had 
3encd  her 


eyes  with  Avondermcnt  when  she  beheld  Lady  Montfort,  but 
the  company  in  general  ./ere  not  in  the  least  aware  of  the  vast 
social  event  that  was  occurring.  They  were  gratified  in  seeing 
another  fine  lady,  but  did  not,  of  course,  rank  her  with  a 
duchess. 

The  dinner  went  off  better  than  Mr.  Wilton  could  have 
hoped,  as  it  was  impossible  to  place  a  stranger  by  Lady  Mont- 
fort,  lie  sat  in  the  middle  of  his  table  with  the  duchess  dow- 
ager on  his  right  and  Berengarla,  who  was  taken  out  by  the 
green  ribbon,  on  the  other.  As  he  knew  the  green  ribbon  woi  Id 
be  soon  exhausted,  he  devoted  himself  to  Lady  Montfort,  and 
left  the  duchess  to  her  own  resources,  which  were  considerable, 
and  slie  was  soon  laying  down  hor  oj)inions  on  men  and  things 
to  her  other  neighbors  with  much  effect.  The  manufacturers 
talked  shop  to  each  other  in  whispers,  that  is  to  say,  mixed 
Houtc  of  Commons  tattle  about  bills  and  committees  with 
news  from  Manchester  and  Liverpool,  and  the  "West  Riding. 
The  metropolitan  members,  then  a  more  cosmoiwlitan  body 
and  highly  miscellaneous  in  their  character  and  pursuits,  Avere 
louder,  and  perhaps  more  easy,  even  ventured  to  talk  across 
the  table  when  near  its  end,  and  enticed  the  peers  into  discus- 
sions on  foreign  politics. 

Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  having  been  delightful,  thought  it  ne- 
cessary to  observe  that  he  feared  Lady  Montfort  had  been 
bored.  "I  have  been,  and  am,  extremely  amused,"  she  ro- 
l)lied,  ''and  now  tell  me,  who  is  that  young  man  at  the  very 
end  of  the  table  ?  " 

"•That  is  my  private  secretary,  Mr.  Ferrars." 

' '  Ferrars  f " 

"  A  brother  of  Lady  Roehampton." 

"  Present  him  to  me  after  dinner." 

Endymion  knew  Lady  Montfort  by  sight,  though  she  did 
not  know  him.  He  had  seen  her  more  than  once  at  the  recep- 
tions of  Mrs.  Neuchatel,  where,  as  indeed  in  every  place,  she 
was  the  cynosure.  He  was  much  astonished  at  meeting  her  at 
this  party  to-day— almost  as  surprised  as  the  duchess  dowager, 
for  Endymion,  who  was  of  an  observant  nature,  was  beginning 
to  comprehend  society  and  all  its  numerous  elements,  and 


224 


FXDYMIOX 


schools,  niid  slmdos,  tind  classes.  "When  they  entered  tho 
ealoon,  ^Ir.  Wilton  led  Endyniion  np  to  Lady  Montfort  at 
once,  and  she  immediately  inquired  after  his  sister.  "Do  you 
think,"  she  said,  "  Lady  llocluimjjton  would  sec  me  to-morrow 
if  I  called  on  her  ?  " 

"If  I  were  Lady  Koehampton,  T  would,"  said  Endymion. 

Lady  Montfort  looked  at  him  with  a  glance  of  curious  scia- 
tiny  ;  not  smiling;,  and  yet  not  disi)leased.  "I  will  write  her 
a  little  note  in  the  morning-,"'  said  Lady  Montfort  thought- 
fully. "One  may  leave  cards  forever.  Mr.  Wilton  tells  mo 
you  are  quite  his  right  hand." 

"  ^Ir.  Wilton  is  too  kind  to  me,"  said  Endymion.  "  Ono 
could  not  be  excused  for  not  doing  one's  best  for  such  ii 
master." 

"  You  like  pcoi)lc  to  be  kind  to  you  ?"  said  Lady  Montfort. 

"  AVell,  I  have  not  met  with  so  much  kindness  in  this  world 
ns  to  have  become  insensible  to  it." 

"You  are  too  young  to  bo  melancholy,"  said  Lady  Mont- 
fort ;  "  arc  you  older  than  Lady  Roehampton  ?" 

"We  arc  twins." 

"Twins!  and  wonderfully  like  too!  Is  it  not  thought 
so?" 

"I  have  sometimes  heard  it  mentioned." 

"Oh,  it  is  striking!"  said  Lady  Montfort,  and  she  mo- 
tioned to  him  to  sit  down  by  her  ;  and  then  she  began  to  talk 
politics,  and  asked  hira  what  the  members  thought  at  dinner 
of  the  prospects  of  the  government,  and  what  ho  had  heard  of 
the  malcontent  movement  that  they  said  was  i}i  petto.  En- 
dymion replied  that  Mr.  Sharpset,  the  Secretary  of  the  Treas- 
ury, did  not  think  much  of  it. 

"  W^ell,  I  wish  I  did  not,"  said  Lady  Montfort.  "  However, 
I  will  soon  find  out  something  about  it.  I  have  only  just 
come  to  town  ;  but  I  intend  to  open  my  house  immediately. 
Now  I  must  go.  VTliat  are  you  going  to  do  with  yourself  to- 
morrow ?  I  wish  you  would  come  and  dine  with  Lord  Mont- 
fort. It  will  be  quite  without  form,  a  few  agreeable  and  amus- 
ing people  ;  Lord  Montfort  must  be  amused.  It  seems  a  rea- 
sonable fancy,  but  very  difficult  to  realize  ;  and  now  you  shall 


'ii. 


cred  the 
lit  fort  at 
"Do  you 
)-inoiTow 

lymion. 
ous  SClil- 
writc  her 
thouglit- 
i  tells  mo 

.  *'  Olio 
ir  such  !i 

Montfort. 
:liis  world 

dy  Mont- 


tliouglit 


slio  mo- 
111  to  talk 
it  dinuer 

heard  of 
Ho.     En- 

le  Treas- 

l^lowever, 
)nly  just 
[ediately. 
irself  to- 
I'd  Mont- 
id  amus- 
is  a  rea- 
L  shall 


.97'.    BARBl-rs  JiI-:TURX 


225 


I  \ 


n.«1v  for  my  carriage,  and  to-morrow  I  liope  to  be  altlo  to  tell 
Lady  liocliamiitoii  wliat  very  great  pleasure  I  have  had  in  mak- 
ing the  acpiaintaiice  of  her  brother.'' 


CIIAPTEi:    LI. 


J 
If 


Tim  morning  after,  Eiulyinion  was  tincrgiiig  from  tho 
court  yard  of  the  Albany,  in  order  to  call  on  Mr.  liodncy.  who, 
as  lie  learned  from  a  ca.<ual  remark  in  a  letter  from  WaMcr- 
share,  would  be  in  town.  The  ladies  were  left  beliiml  for  tho 
last  week  of  hunting,  l)ut  business  called  Mr.  Rodney  homo. 
AValder.sliarc  wrote  to  Endymion  in  the  highest  spirits,  and 
more  than  once  declared  that  he  was  the  hapjiiest  of  men. 
Just  as  Endymion  had  entered  Piccadilly,  he  was  stopped  by  a 
once  familiar  face  ;  it  was  St.  Barl)e,  Avho  accosted  him  with 
great  warmth,  and  as  usnal  began  to  talk  about  himself.  '*  You 
are  surprised  to  see  me,"  he  said.  "It  is  two  years  since  wo 
met.  Well,  I  have  done  wonders  ;  carried  all  before  me.  By 
Jove,  sir,  I  can  Avalk  into  a  minister's  private  room  with  as 
much  case  as  if  I  Avere  entering  the  old  den.  The  ambassadors 
are  hand  and  glove  with  me.  There  are  very  few  things  I  do 
not  know.  I  have  made  the  fortune  of  the  '  Cluick  Farthing,* 
trebled  its  circulation,  and  inventct^  a  new  style,  which  has  put 
me  at  the  head  of  all  '\.ur  own  correspondents.'  I  wish  you 
were  at  Paris  ;  I  would  give  you  a  dinner  at  the  Roclier,  which 
would  make  up  for  all  our  dinners  at  that  ferocious  ruHian, 
Joe's.  I  gave  a  dinner  tho  other  day  to  forty  of  them,  all 
*our  own  correspondents,' or  such  like.  Do  you  know,  my 
dear  fellow,  when  I  looked  round  the  room,  there  was  not  a  man 
who  had  not  done  his  best  to  crush  me ;  running  down  my 
works  or  not  noticing  them,  or  continually  dilating  on  Clushy, 
as  if  tho  English  public  would  never  read  anything  else.  Xow, 
that  was  Christian-like  of  me,  was  not  it  ?  God,  sir,  if  they 
only  had  but  one  neck,  and  I  had  been  the  Emperor  Xero — Init, 
I  will  not  dwell  on  it ;  I  hate  them.  However,  it  suits  me  to 
take  the  other  line  at  present.     I  am  all  for  fraternity  and  that 


22G 


EXDYMION. 


\:  :lif 


I   .  I  i  il 


III. I 


sort  of  thing,  and  give  tlicm  dinners.  There  is  a  i  jason  why, 
hut  there  is  no  time  to  talk  about  that  now.  I  shall  want  their 
su'eet  voices — the  hounds  !  But,  my  dear  fellow,  I  am  truly 
glad  to  see  you.  Do  you  know,  I  always  liked  you  ;  and  how 
come  you  to  be  in  this  quarter  this  fine  morning  ?  " 

*'I  live  in  the  Albany,"  said  Endymion. 

''You  live  in  the  Albany!"  rcjieated  St.  Barbo,  with  an 
amazed  and  perturbed  expression.  '"'I  knew  I  could  not  be  a 
knight  of  the  garter,  or  a  member  of  White's — the  only  two 
things  an  Englishman  can  not  command  ;  but  I  did  think  I 
might  some  day  live  in  the  Albany.  It  was  my  dream.  And 
you  live  there  !  Gracious  !  what  an  unfortunate  fellov/ 1  am. 
I  do  not  see  hoAV  you  can  live  in  the  Albany  with  your  salary  ; 
I  suppose  they  have  raised  you.'"' 

''I  have  left  Somerset  House,"  said  Endymion,  "and  am 
now  at  the  Board  of  Trade,  and  am  private  secretary  to  Mr. 
Sidney  Wilton." 

"Oh!  "said  St.  Barbe  ;  "then  we  have  friends  at  court. 
You  may  do  something  for  me,  if  I  only  knew  what  I  wanted. 
They  have  no  decorations  here.  Curse  this  aristocratic  country, 
they  want  all  the  honors  to  themselves.  I  should  like  to  be  in 
the  Board  of  Trade,  and  would  make  some  sacrifice  for  it. 
The  proprietors  of  the  '  Chuck  Farthing '  pay  well ;  they  pay 
like  gentlemen  ;  though,  why  I  say  so  I  do  not  exactly  know, 
for  no  gentleman  ever  paid  me  anything.  But,  if  I  could  be 
Secretary  of  the  Board  of  Trade,  or  get  £1,500  a  year  secure,  I 
would  take  it ;  and  I  dare  say  I  could  get  employed  on  some 
treaties,  as  I  speak  French,  and  then  I  might  get  knighted." 

*•'  Well,  I  tliink  you  are  very  well  off,"  said  Endymion  ;  "car- 
rying, as  you  say,  everything  before  you.  What  more  can  you 
want  ?  " 

"I  hate  the  craft,"  said  St.  Barbe,  with  an  expression  of 
genuine  detestation  ;  "  I  should  like  to  show  them  all  up  before 
I  died.  I  suppose  it  was  your  sister  marrying  a  lord  that  got 
you  on  in  this  way.  I  could  have  married  a  countess  myself, 
but  then,  to  be  sure,  she  was  only  a  Polish  one,  and  hard  up. 
I  never  had  a  sister  ;  I  never  had  any  luck  in  life  at  all.  I  wish 
I  had  been  a  woman.     Women  are  the  only  people  who  get  on. 


EXDYMION  LEAVES  THE  EODXEY'S. 


227 


on  "svliy, 
ant  their 
im  truly 
md  how 


with  an 
not  be  u 
)nly  two 

think  I 
n.  And 
)v/ 1  am. 
L'  salary ; 

and  am 
y  to  Mr. 

it  court. 

wanted, 
country, 

to  be  in 
0  for  it. 
they  pay 
ly  know, 
could  be 
secure,  I 

on  some 
rhted." 
n ;  '*car- 
!  can  you 


ession  of 
up  before 
that  got 
3  myself, 
liard  up. 
.  I  wish 
0  get  on. 


A  man  works  all  his  life,  and  thinks  he  lias  done  a  wonderful 
thing  if,  with  one  leg  in  the  grave  and  no  hair  on  his  head,  ho 
manages  to  get  a  coronet ;  and  a  woman  dances  at  a  hall  with 
some  young  fellow  or  other,  or  sits  next  to  some  old  fellow  at 
dinner  and  pretends  she  thinks  him  charming,  and  he  makes 
her  a  peeress  on  the  spot.  Oh  !  it  is  a  disgusting  world  ;  it 
must  end  in  revolution.  Now  you  tell  your  master,  Mr.  Sid- 
ney Wilton,  that  if  he  wants  to  strengthen  the  institutions  of 
this  country,  the  government  should  establish  an  order  of  merit, 
and  the  press  ought  to  be  represented  in  it.  I  do  not  speak 
only  for  myself ;  I  speak  for  my  brethren.  Yes,  sir,  I  am  not 
ashamed  of  my  order." 

And  so  they  bade  each  other  farewell. 

''  Unchanged,"  thought  Endymion,  as  he  crossed  Piccadilly. 
**The  vainest,  the  most  envious,  and  the  most  amusing  of  men! 
I  wonder  what  he  will  do  in  life." 

Mr.  Rodney  was  at  home,  had  just  finished  his  breakfast, 
read  his  newspaper,  and  was  about  to  ''go  into  the  City."  His 
costume  was  perfect.  Mr.  Rodney's  hat  seemed  always  a  new 
one.  Endymion  was  a  little  embarrassed  by  this  interview,  for 
he  had  naturally  a  kind  heart,  and  being  young,  it  was  still  soft. 
The  Rodneys  had  been  truly  good  to  him,  and  he  was  attached 
to  them.  Imogene  had  prepared  Mr.  Rodney  for  the  change  in 
Endymion's  life,  and  Endymion  himself  had  every  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  in  a  worldly  point  of  view  the  matter  was  entirely  in- 
significant to  his  old  landlord.  Still  his  visit  this  morning 
ratified  a  permanent  separation  from  those  with  whom  he  had 
lived  for  a  long  time,  and  under  circumstances  of  sympathy  and 
family  connection  which  were  touching.  He  retained  Mr.  Rod- 
ney's hand  for  a  moment  as  he  expressed,  and  almost  in  falter- 
ing tones,  his  sorrow  at  their  separation  and  his  hope  that  their 
friendly  connection  might  be  always  cherished. 

"  That  feeling  is  reciprocal,"  said  Mr.  Rodney.  **If  only 
because  you  were  the  son  of  my  revered  and  right  honorable 
friend,  you  would  always  be  esteemed  here.  But  you  are  es- 
teemed, or,  I  may  say  beloved,  for  your  own  sake.  We  shall  be 
proud  to  be  considered  with  kindness  by  you,  and  I  echo  your 
wish  that,  though  no  longer  living  under  the  same  roof,  we 


228 


EXDYMIOX. 


li! 


may  yet,  and  even  often,  meet.  But  do  not  eay  anotlicr  word 
ubout  the  inconvenience  you  arc  occasioning  us.  The  truth  is, 
that  although  wherever  we  went  the  son  of  my  revered  anci  riglit 
lionorablo  friend  would  have  always  commanded  hospitality 
from  us,  there  are  many  changes  about  to  take  place  in  our  fam- 
ily which  have  made  us  for  some  time  contemplate  leaving  War- 
wick Street.  Affairs,  especially  of  late,  have  gone  pretty  well 
with  me  in  the  world — at  least  not  badly ;  I  have  had  friends, 
and  I  iiope  have  proved  not  undeserving  of  them.  I  wish  Syl- 
via, too,  to  live  in  an  airier  situation,  near  the  park,  so  that  she 
may  ride  every  morning.  Besides,  I  have  a  piece  of  news  to 
communicate  to  you,  which  Avould  materially  affect  our  arrange- 
ments.    AVe  are  going  to  lose  Imogcnc." 

''Ah  !  she  is  going  to  be  married,"  said  Endymion,  blush- 
ing. 

"  Slic  is  going  to  be  married,"  said  ]\[r.  Rodney,  gravely. 

*' To  Mr.  Waldershare  ? "  said  Endymion.  "He  almost 
said  as  much  to  me  in  a  letter  this  morning.  But  I  always 
thought  so." 

"No ;  not  to  Mr.  Waldershare,"  said  Mr.  Rodney. 

*'  Who  is  the  hapjjy  man  then  ?  "  said  Endymion  agitated. 
*'I  truly  call  him  so  ;  for  I  tliinlv  myself  that  Imogcnc  is  per- 
fection." 

''Imogcnc  is  about  to  be  married  to  the  Earl  of  Beau- 
maris." 


CIIAPTEi:    JJI. 

SiMOX,  Earl  of  Montfort,  with  whom  Endymion  Avas  so 
unexpectedly  going  to  dine,  may  be  said  to  have  been  a  minor 
in  his  cradle.  Under  ordinary  circumstances,  his  inheritance 
would  have  been  one  of  the  most  considerable  in  England. 
His  castle  in  the  north  was  one  of  the  glories  of  the  land,  and 
becomingly  crowned  his  vast  domain.  Under  the  old  parlia- 
mentary system,  he  had  the  greatest  number  of  nomination 
boroughs  possessed  by  any  Whig  noble.  The  character  and 
conduct  of  an  individual  so  qualified  were  naturally  much 


LORD  MO:srFORT. 


229 


IS  per- 
Bcau- 


\ 


speculated  on  and  finely  scanned.  N'otliing  very  decided  tran- 
spired about  them  in  liis  boyhood,  but  certainly  nothing  ad- 
verse, lie  was  good-looking  and  athletic,  and  was  said  to  bo 
generous  and  good-natured,  and  when  he  went  to  Harrow,  lie 
became  popular.  In  his  eighteenth  year,  while  he  was  in  cor- 
respondence with  his  guardians  about  going  to  Christchurch, 
he  suddenly  left  his  country  without  giving  any  one  notice  of 
his  intentions,  and  entered  into,  and  fulfilled,  a  vast  scheme  of 
adventurous  travel,  lie  visited  countries  then  rarely  reached, 
and  some  of  which  were  almost  unknown.  Ilis  fiag  had  fioated 
in  the  Indian  ocean,  and  he  had  penetrated  the  dazzling  mys- 
teries of  Brazilian  forests.  Wlien  ho  was  of  age,  ho  returned, 
and  communicat/d  with  his  guardians,  as  if  nothing  remark- 
able had  happened  in  his  life.  Lord  Montfort  had  inherited  a 
celebrated  stud,  which  the  family  had  maintained  for  more 
than  a  century,  and  the  sporting  world  remarked  Avitli  satisfac- 
tion that  their  present  representative  appeared  to  take  much 
interest  in  it.  He  had  an  establishment  at  Newmarket,  and 
his  horses  were  entered  for  all  the  great  races  of  the  kingdom. 
He  appeared  also  at  Melton,  and  conducted  i\\o.  campaign  in  a 
stvle  becoming  such  a  hero.  His  hunters  and  his  cooks  were 
both  first-rate.  Although  he  affected  to  take  little  interest  in 
politics,  the  events  of  the  time  forced  him  to  consider  them 
and  to  act.  Lord  Grey  wanted  to  carry  his  Reform  Bill,  and 
the  sacrifice  of  Lord  ]\Iontfort's  numerous  boroughs  was  a 
necessary  ingredient  in  the  spell.  He  was  appealed  to  as  the 
head  of  one  of  the  greatest  Whig  houses,  and  he  was  offered  a 
dukedom.  He  relinquished  his  boroughs  without  hesitation, 
but  he  preferred  to  remain  with  one  of  the  oldest  earldoms  of 
England  for  his  chief  title.  All  honors,  however,  clustered 
about  him,  though  he  never  sought  them,  and  in  the  same 
year  he  tumbled  into  the  Lord  Lieutenancy  of  his  county,  un- 
expectedly vacant,  and  became  the  youngest  Knight  of  the 
Garter. 

Society  was  looking  forward  with  the  keenest  interest  to 
the  impending  season,  when  Lord  Montfort  would  formally 
enter  its  spellbound  ranks,  and  multiform  were  the  specula- 
tions on  his  destiny.     He  attended  an  early  levee,  in  order 


230 


EXDYMTON. 


w 


I  ill 

i  i  i  I 


!•! 


tliat  he  might  l)c  proscntcd — a  needful  ceremony  whicli  had 
not  yet  taken  place — and  then  again  quitted  his  country,  and 
for  years.  lie  Avas  heard  of  in  every  capital  except  his  own. 
Wonderful  exploits  at  St.  Petersburg,  and  Paris,  and  ^ladrid, 
deeds  of  mark  u,t  Vienna,  and  eccentric  adventures  at  Rome  ; 
but  poor  Melton,  alas  !  expecting  him  to  return  every  season, 
at  last  embalmed  him,  and  his  cooks,  and  his  hunters,  and  his 
daring  saddle,  as  a  tradition — jealous  a  little  of  Newmarket, 
whither,  though  absent,  he  was  frequently  transmitting  for- 
eign blood,  and  where  his  horses  still  ran,  and  were  often 
victorious. 

At  last  it  would  appear  that  the  restless  Lord  Montfort  had 
found  hi£'  place,  and  that  place  was  Paris.  There  he  dwelt  for 
years  in  Sybaritic  seclusion.  He  built  himself  a  palacO;  whicli 
he  called  a  villa,  and  which  was  the  most  fanciful  of  structures, 
and  full  of  every  beautiful  object  whicli  rare  taste  and  bound- 
less wealth  could  procure,  from  undoubted  Raffaelles  to  jeweled 
toys.  It  was  said  that  Lord  Montfort  saw  no  one  ;  he  certainly 
did  not  court  or  receive  his  own  countrymen,  and  this  perhaps 
gave  rise  to,  or  at  least  caused  to  be  exaggerated,  the  tales  that 
were  rife  of  his  profusion,  and  even  his  profligacy.  But  it  was 
not  true  that  he  was  entirely  isolated.  He  lived  much  with  the 
old  families  of  France  in  their  haughty  faubourg,  and  was  highly 
considered  by  them.  It  was  truly  a  circle  for  which  he  was 
adapted.  Lord  Montfort  was  the  only  living  Englishman  who 
gave  one  an  idea  of  the  nobleman  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
He  was  totally  devoid  of  the  sense  of  responsibility,  and  he 
looked  what  he  resembled.  His  manner,  though  simple  and 
natural,  was  finished  and  refined,  and,  free  from  forbidding 
reserve,  was  yet  characterized  by  an  air  of  serious  grace. 

With  the  exception  of  the  meraorable  year  when  he  sacri- 
ficed his  nomination  boroughs  to  the  cause  for  which  Hampden 
died  on  the  field  and  Sidney  on  the  scaffold — that  is  to  say,  the 
Whig  government  of  England,  Lord  Montfort  had  been  absent 
from  his  country  for  ten  years,  and  one  day,  in  his  statued  gar- 
den at  the  Belvedere,  he  asked  himself  what  he  had  gained  by 
it  ?  There  was  no  subject  divine  or  liuman  in  which  he  took 
the  slightest  interest.     He  entertained  for  human  nature  gen- 


which  had 
Lin  try,  and 
t  liis  own. 
id  Madrid, 
at  Rome  ; 
3ry  season, 
rs,  and  his 
ewmarket, 
itting  for- 
«\'ere  often 

ntfort  had 
3  dwelt  for 
ace,  which 
structures, 
lid  bound- 
to  jeweled 
D  certainly 
lis  perhaps 
!  tales  that 
But  it  was 
li  with  the 
kvas  highly 
oil  he  was 
!iman  who 
1  century. 
;y,  and  he 
imj^le  and 
forbidding 
ice. 

L  he  sacri- 
Hampden 
to  say,  the 
ceil  absent 
atued  gar- 
gained  by 
h  he  took 
ature  gen- 


RCIENCE  AXD  FISIIIXG. 


231 


crally,  and  without  any  exception,  the  most  cyr  'cal  appreciation. 
He  had  a  sincere  and  profound  conviction,  that  no  man  or  wo- 
man ever  acted  except  from  selfish  and  interested  motives. 
Society  v;as  intolerable  to  him  ;  that  of  his  own  sex  and  sta- 
tion wearisome  beyond  expression  ;  tlieir  conversation  consisted 
only  of  two  subjects,  horses  and  women,  and  ho  had  long  ex- 
hausted both.  As  for  female  society,  if  they  were  ladies,  it  was 
expected  that,  in  some  form  or  other,  he  should  make  love  to 
them,  and  he  had  no  sentiment.  If  he  took  refuge  in  the 
demi-monde,  he  encountered  vulgarity,  and  that,  to  Lord  Mont- 
fort,  Avas  insufferable.  Ho  had  tried  tiicni  in  every  capital,  and 
vulgarity  was  the  badge  of  all  tlieir  tribe.  He  had  attempted 
to  read  ;  a  woman  had  told  him  to  read  French  novels,  but  he 
found  them  only  a  clumsy  representation  of  the  life  which,  for 
years,  he  had  practically  been  leading.  An  accident  made  him 
acquainted  with  Rabelais  and  Montaigne  ;  and  he  had  relished 
them,  for  he  had  a  fine  sense  of  humor.  He  might  have  pur- 
sued these  studies,  and  perhaps  have  found  in  them  a  slight 
and  occasional  distraction,  but  a  clever  man  he  met  at  a  guin- 
gette  at  Passy,  where  ii?  had  gone  to  try  to  dissipate  his  weari- 
ness in  disguise,  had  convinced  him,  that  if  there  were  a  worthy 
human  pursuit,  an  assumption  which  was  doubtful,  it  was  that 
of  science,  as  it  impressed  upon  man  his  utter  insignificance. 

No  one  could  say  Lord  Montfort  was  a  bad-hearted  man, 
for  he  had  no  heart.  He  was  good-natured,  provided  it  brought 
him  no  inconvenience ;  and  as  for  temper,  his  was  never  dis- 
turbed, but  this  not  from  sAveetness  of  disposition,  rather  from 
a  contemptuous  fine  taste,  which  assured  him  that  a  gentleman 
should  never  be  deprived  of  tranquillity  in  a  world  where  no- 
thing was  of  the  slightest  consequence. 

The  result  of  these  reflections  was,  that  ho  was  utterly 
wearied  with  Belvedere  and  Paris,  and  as  his  mind  was  now 
rather  upon  science,  he  fancied  he  should  like  to  return  to  a 
country  where  it  flourished,  and  where  he  indulged  in  plans  of 
erecting  colossal  telescopes,  and  of  promoting  inquiry  into  the 
origin  of  things.  He  thought  that  with  science  and  with  fish- 
ing, the  only  sport  to  which  he  still  really  clung,  for  he  liked 
the  lulling  influence  of  running  streams,  and  a  pastime  he 


!   i 


>!     ■    II 


232 


ENDYMIOX. 


coiiUl   pur.^uc   in   loiiclincs?,  existence  miglit  pcrliaps  be  en- 
dured. 

Society  was  really  surprised  when  they  heard  of  llie  return 
of  Lord  Montfort  to  England.  He  came  back  in  the  autumn, 
so  that  there  should  bo  no  season  to  encounter,  and  his  ihig  was 
soon  flying  at  his  castle.  There  had  been  continuous  attacks 
for  years  on  the  government  for  having  made  an  absentee  lord 
lieutenant  of  his  county,  and  conferring  the  high  distinction 
o"  Luo  garter  on  so  profligate  a  character.  All  this  made  his  ro- 
bin\  more  interesting  and  exciting. 

A  worthy  nobleman  of  liigli  rank  and  of  the  same  county, 
who,  for  the  last  five  years  everybody,  shaking  everybody's  head, 
had  been  saying  ought  to  have  been  lord  lieutenant,  had  a  great 
county  function  in  his  immediate  neighborhood  in  the  late  au- 
tumn, and  had  invited  a  large  party  to  assist  him  in  its  celebra- 
tion. It  seemed  right  also  to  invito  the  lord  lieutenant,  but  no 
one  expected  that  he  would  make  his  appearance.  On  the  con- 
trary, the  invitation  was  accepted,  and  the  sensation  was  great. 
What  would  he  be  like,  and  what  would  he  do,  and  was  he  so 
very  wicked  as  the  county  newspaper  said  ?  He  came,  this 
wicked  man,  with  his  graceful  presence  and  his  diamond  star, 
,and  everybody's  heart  palpitated  with  a  due  mixture  of  terror 
and  admiration.  The  only  exception  to  these  feelings  was  the 
daughter  of  the  house,  the  Lady  Berengaria.  She  was  then  in 
her  second  season,  but  still  unparagoned,  for  she  was  a  fastidious, 
not  to  say  disdainful  lady.  The  highest  had  been  at  her  feet, 
and  sued  in  vain.  She.  was  a  stirring  spirit,  with  great  ambi- 
tion and  a  daring  will ;  never  content  except  in  society,  and  in- 
fluencing it — for  which  she  was  qualified  by  her  grace  and  lively 
fancy,  her  ready  though  capricious  sympathy,  and  her  passion 
for  admiration. 

The  function  was  successful,  and  the  county  full  of  en- 
thusiasm for  their  lord  lieutenant,  whose  manner  quite  cleared 
his  character.  The  party  did  not  break  up,  in  fact  the  func- 
tion was  only  an  excuse  for  the  party.  There  was  sport  of  all 
kinds,  and  in  the  evenings  a  carnival — ^for  Lady  Berengaria  re- 
quired everybody  about  her  to  be  gay  and  diverting — games  and 
dances,  and  infinite  frolic.     Lord  Montfort,  who,  to  the  surprise 


II 


LADY  BEREXGARIA. 


233 


ps  be  cn- 

Iic  return 
;  autumn, 
s  \\A[f  was 
IS  attacks 
3iitce  lord 
istinction 
,cle  his  re- 

e  county, 
ly's  head, 
id  a  OTcat 
c  late  au- 
s  cclebra- 
it,  but  no 

I  the  con- 
Yas  great, 
■was  he  so 
ime,  this 
end  star, 
of  terror 
s  was  the 
s  then  in 
istidious, 
her  feet, 
?at  ambi- 
'■,  and  in- 
md  lively 
r  passion 

II  of  en- 
e  cleared 
;he  func- 
)rt  of  all 
igaria  re- 
imes  and 
!  surprise 


of  every  one,  did  not  depart,  spoke  to  her  a  little,  and  perhaps 
Avould  not  have  spoken  at  all,  had  they  not  met  in  the  hunting- 
field.  Lady  Berengaria  was  a  first-rate  horsewoman,  and  really 
in  the  saddle  looked  irresistible. 

The  night  before  the  party,  which  had  lasted  a  week,  broke 
up.  Lord  Montfort  came  and  sat  by  Lady  Berengaria.  lie 
spoke  about  the  run  of  the  morning,  and  she  replied  in  the 
same  vein.  **  I  have  got  a  horse,  Lady  Berengaria,  which  I 
should  like  you  to  ride.     Would  you  do  so  ? "' 

"  Certainly,  and  what  sort  of  horse  is  it  ?" 

''  You  shall  sec  to-morrow.  It  is  not  far  off.  I  like  to  have 
some  horses  always  near,"  and  then  he  walked  away. 

It  was  a  dark  chestnut  of  matchless  beauty.  Lady  Beren- 
garia, who  was  of  an  emphatic  nature,  was  loud  in  her  admira- 
tion of  its  beauty  and  its  hunting  qualities. 

''  I  agree  with  you,"  said  Lord  Montfort,  '"  that  it  will  spoil 
you  for  any  other  horse,  and,  therefore,  I  shall  asl:  permission 
to  leave  it  here  for  your  use." 

The  party  broke  uj),  but,  strange  to  say.  Lord  Montfort  did 
not  depart.  It  was  a  large  family.  Lady  Berengaria  had  sev- 
eral sisters  ;  her  eldest  brother  was  master  of  the  hounds,  and 
her  younger  brothers  were  asserting  their  rights  as  cadets,  and  , 
killing  their  father's  pheasants.  There  was  also  a  number  of  • 
cousins,  who  were  about  the  sanjc  age,  and  were  always  laugh- 
ing, though  it  was  never  quite  clear  what  it  was  about.  An 
affectation  of  ga3'ety  may  be  sometimes  detected  in  youth. 

As  Lord  Montfort  always  had  the  duty  of  ushering  the 
lady  of  the  house  to  dinner,  he  never  had  the  opportunity  of 
conversing  with  Lady  Berengaria,  even  had  he  wished  it ;  but 
it  was  not  at  all  clear  that  he  did  wish  it,  and  it  seemed  that 
he  talked  as  much  to  her  sisters  and  the  laughing  cousins  as  to 
herself,  but  still  he  did  not  go  away,  which  was  most  strange, 
and  commenced  to  be  embarrassing. 

At  last  one  evening,  both  her  parents  slumbering,  one  over 
the  newspaper  and  the  other  over  her  work,  and  the  rest  of  the 
party  in  a  distant  room  playing  at  some  new  game  amid  occa- 
sional peals  of  laughter.  Lord  Montfort,  who  had  been  sitting 
for  some  time  by  Lady  Berengaria's  side,  and  only  asking  now 


'Hi 


ll  ^  I 


I    :! 


!:  i 


llLiii 


23  i 


EXD  YMIOy. 


and  then  a  question,  thougli  often  a  searcliing  one,  in  order  to 
secure  her  talking  to  him,  rather  abruptly  said,  "I  wonder  if 
anything  would  ever  induce  you  to  marry  me  ?  " 

This  Avas  the  most  startling  social  event  of  the  generation. 
Society  immediately  set  a-wondering  how  it  would  turn  out, 
and  proved  very  clearly  that  it  must  turn  out  badly.  Men  who 
knew  Montfort  well  at  Paris  looked  knowing,  and  said  they 
would  give  it  six  months. 

But  the  lady  was  as  remarkable  as  a  woman  as  the  bride- 
groom was  in  his  sex.  Lady  Berengaria  was  determined  to  be 
the  Queen  of  Society,  and  had  confidence  in  her  unlimited 
influence  over  man.  It  is,  however,  rather  difficult  to  work  on 
the  feelings  of  a  man  Avho  has  no  heart.  This  she  soon  found 
out,  and  to  her  dismay,  but  she  kept  it  a  profound  secret.  By 
endless  ingenuity  on  her  part  affuivs  went  on  very  well  much 
longer  than  the  world  expected,  and  long  enough  to  fulfill  the 
object  of  Lady  Berengaria's  life.  Lord  Montfort  launched  his 
wife  well,  and  seemed  even  content  to  be  occasionally  her  com- 
panion until  she  had  mounted  the  social  throne.  He  was  proud 
of  her  as  he  would  be  of  one  of  his  beautiful  horses  ;  but  when 
all  the  world  had  acknowledged  the  influence  of  Berengaria,  he 
fell  into  one  of  his  old  moods,  and  broke  to  her  that  he  could 
bear  it  no  longer,  and  that  he  must  retire  from  society.  Lady 
Montfort  looked  distressed,  but,  resolved  under  no  circum- 
stances to  be  separated  from  her  husband,  whom  she  greatly 
admired,  and  to  whom,  had  he  wished  it,  she  could  have  be- 
come even  passionately  f^ttached,  signified  her  readiness  to  share 
his  solitude.  But  she  then  found  out  that  this  was  not  what 
he  wanted.  It  was  not  only  retirement  from  society,  but  re- 
tirement from  Lady  Montfort  that  was  indispensable.  In 
short,  at  no  time  of  his  perverse  career  had  Lord  Montfort 
been  more  willful. 

During  the  last  years  of  his  residence  in  Paris,  when  he  was 
shut  up  in  his  delicious  Belvidere,  he  had  complained  much  of 
the  state  of  his  health,  and  one  of  his  principal  pursuits  was 
consulting  the  faculty  on  this  interesting  subject.  The  faculty 
were  unanimous  in  their  opinion  that  the  disorder  from  which 
their  patient  was  suffering  was  Ennui.    This  persistent  opinion 


j 


IS 


IN TE REST  AND  AME.sEMENT. 


235 


1  order  to 
wonder  if 

enoration. 

turn  out. 

Men  who 

said  they 

;hc  bride- 
ncd  to  be 
unlimited 
3  work  on 
)on  found 
3ret.     By 
'ell  much 
fulfill  the 
ticlicd  his 
her  com- 
mas proud 
but  when 
igaria,  ho 
he  could 
,     Lady 
circum- 
greatly 
have  be- 
to  share 
lot  what 
but  re- 
5le.     In 
^lontfort 

n  he  was 
much  of 
uits  was 
)  faculty 
n  which 
opinion 


irritated  him,  and  was  one  of  the  elements  of  his  decision  to 
leave  the  countr^'.  The  unexpected  distraction  that  followed 
his  return  to  his  native  land  had  made  him  neglect  or  forget 
his  sad  indisposition,  but  it  appears  that  it  liad  now  returned, 
and  in  an  aggravated  form.  Unhappily  the  English  physicians 
took  much  the  same  view  of  the  case  as  their  French  brethren. 
They  could  find  nothing  organically  wrong  in  tlie  constitution 
or  condition  of  Lord  Montfort,  and  recommended  occupation 
and  society.  At  present  he  shrunk  with  some  disgust  at  the 
prospect  of  returning  to  France,  and  he  had  taken  it  into  his 
head  that  the  climate  of  Montfort  did  not  agree  with  him.  lie 
was  convinced  that  he  must  live  in  the  south  of  England.  One 
of  the  most  beautiful  and  considerable  estates  in  that  favored 
part  of  our  country  was  virtually  in  the  m  irket,  and  Lord  Mont- 
fort, at  the  cost  of  half  a  million,  bocan.c  the  proprietor  of  Prince- 
down.  And  hero  he  announced  that  he  should  dwell  and  die. 
This  state  of  affairs  was  a  bitter  trial  to  the  proudest  woman 
in  England,  but  Lady  Montfort  was  also  one  of  the  most  able. 
She  resisted  nothing,  sympathized  with  all  his  projects,  and 
watched  her  oppoj  unity  when  she  could  extract  from  his  un- 
conscious good-nature  some  reasonable  modification  of  them. 
And  she  ultimately  succeeded  in  establishing  a  modus  vivendi. 
He  was  to  live  and  die  at  Princedown  ;  that  was  settled  ;  but 
if  he  ever  came  to  town,  to  consult  his  physicians  for  example, 
he  was  always  to  inhabit  Montfort  House,  and  if  she  occasion- 
ally required  a  whiff  of  southern  air,  she  was  to  have  her  rooms 
always  ready  for  her  at  Princedown.  She  would  not  interfere 
with  him  in  the  least ;  he  need  not  even  see  her,  if  he  were  too 
unwell.  Then  as  to  the  general  principle  of  his  life,  it  was 
quite  clear  that  he  was  not  interested  in  anything,  and  never 
would  be  interested  in  anything  ;  but  there  was  no  reason  that 
he  should  not  be  amused.  This  distinction  between  interest 
and  amusement  rather  pleased  and  seemed  to  satisfy  Lord 
Montfort — but  then  it  Avas  difficult  to  amuse  him.  The  only 
thing  that  ever  amused  him,  he  said,  were  his  wife's  letters,  and 
as  he  was  the  most  selfish,  as  well  as  the  most  polite  of  men, 
he  requested  her  to  write  to  him  every  day.  Great  personages, 
who  are  selfish  and  whimsical,  are  generally  surrounded  by 


23C 


EXDY"^OK 


li! 


:!      iii 


liara.^itcs  and  buffoon.-,  but  this  would  not  suit  Lord  Monti'uit ; 
lie  sincerely  detested  Jattery,  and  lie  wearied  in  ciglit-and- 
forty  hours  of  the  most  successful  mountebank  in  society. 
AVliat  ho  seemed  inclined  to  Avas  the  society  of  men  of  science, 
of  travelers  in  rare  parts,  and  of  clever  artists,  in  short  of  all 
persons  who  had  what  ho  called  *' idiosyncrasy."  Civil  engi- 
neering was  then  beginning  to  attract  general  attention,  and 
Lord  Montfort  liked  the  society  of  civil  engineers  ;  but  Avliat 
lie  liked  most  were  self-formed  men,  and  to  learn  the  secret  of 
their  success,  and  how  they  made  their  fortune.  After  the 
ilrst  fit  of  Princcdown  was  over.  Lord  Montfort  found  that  it 
was  imi)ossible,  even  with  all  its  fascination,  to  secure  a  con- 
stant, or  sufficient,  presence  of  civil  engineers  in  such  distant 
parts,  and  so  he  got  into  the  habit  of  coming  up  to  Montfort 
House,  that  he  might  find  companions  and  be  amused.  Lady 
Montfort  took  great  i)ains  that  he  should  not  be  disappointed, 
and  catered  for  him  with  all  the  skill  of  an  accomplished  clicf. 
Then,  when  the  occasiuii  served,  she  went  doAvn  to  Princcdown 
liersclf  with  Avelcome  guests — and  so  it  turned  out,  that  circum- 
stances, which  treated  by  an  ordinary  mind  must  have  led  to  a 
isocial  scandal,  were  so  adroitly  manipulated,  that  the  world 
little  apprehended  the  real  and  somewhat  mortifying  state  of 
.affairs.  With  the  utmost  license  of  ill-nature,  they  could  not 
suppose  that  Lord  and  Lady  Montfort,  living  under  the  same 
roof,  might  scarcely  see  each  other  for  weeks,  and  that  his 
communications  with  her,  and  indeed  generally,  were  alwa3's 
made  in  writing. 

Lady  Montfort  never  could  agree  with  her  husband  in  the 
cardinal  assumption  of  his  philosophy.  One  of  his  reasons  for 
never  doing  anything,  was  that  there  was  nothing  for  him  to 
attain.  He  had  got  everything.  Here  they  at  once  separated 
in  their  conclusions.  Lady  Montfort  maintained  they  had 
got  nothing.  "What,"  she  would  say,  ''are  rank  and  wealth 
to  us  ?  We  were  born  to  them.  We  want  something  that  wo 
were  not  born  to.  You  reason  like  a  parvenu.  Of  course,  if 
you  had  created  your  rank  and  your  riches  you  might  rest  on 
your  oars,  and  find  excitement  in  the  recollection  of  what  you 
bad  achieved.     A  man  of  your  position  ought  to  govern  the 


A    WOXDERFUL  MYSTIFICATIOX. 


237 


lontfort ; 
i^lit-tuul- 
1  t«ocic'ty. 
E  science, 
ort  of  nil 
ivil  ciifri- 
tioii,  and 
Ijnt  wliat 
!  secret  of 
\fter  the 
id  tluit  it 
irc  Ji  con- 
h  distant 
Montfort 
d.  Lady 
ppointcd, 
lied  cliff. 
incedowu 
t  circum- 
3  led  to  ii 
lie  Avorld 
%  state  of 
ould  not 
the  same 
that  his 
e  ahva}-s 

id  in  the 
isons  for 
r  him  to 
eparatcd 
hey  had 
d  wealth 
that  Avo 
iourse,  if 
;  rest  on 
vhat  you 
vern  the 


country,  and  it  always  was  so  in  old  days.  Your  family  were 
prime  ministers  ;  why  not  you,  with  as  much  talent,  and  much 
more  knowledge  ?  " 

''You  would  make  a  very  good  prime  minister,  Beren- 
garia." 

"Ah  !  you  always  jest.     I  am  serious." 

"  And  so  am  I.  If  I  ever  am  to  work,  I  would  sooner  be  a 
civil  engineer  than  a  prime  minister." 

Nothing  but  the  indomitable  spirit  of  Lady  Montfort  could 
fight  successfully  against  such  obstacles  to  her  schemes  of 
l)ower  as  Avcre  presented  by  the  peculiar  disposition  of  her  lord. 
Ile^'  receptions  every  Saturday  night  during  the  season  were  the 
most  important  of  social  gatherings,  but  she  held  them  alone. 
It  was  by  consummate  skill  that  she  had  prevailed  upon  her 
lord  occasionally  appearing  at  their  preceding  banquets,  and 
when  they  were  over,  he  flitted  for  an  instant  and  disappeared. 
At  first,  he  altogether  refused,  but  then  Lady  Montfort  Avould 
induce  Royalty,  always  kind,  to  condescend  to  express  a  wish 
to  dine  at  Montfort  House,  and  that  was  a  gracious  intimation 
it  was  imjiossible  not  to  act  upon,  and  then,  as  Lady  Montfort 
would  say,  "  I  trust  much  to  the  periodical  visit  ^  of  that  dear 
Queen  of  Mesopotamia,  lie  must  entertain  her,  for  his  father 
was  her  lover. " 

In  this  wonderful  mystification,  by  which  Lord  Montfort 
was  made  to  appear  as  living  in  a  society  which  he  scarcely 
ever  entered,  his  wife  was  a  little  assisted  by  his  visits  to  New- 
market, which  he  even  frequently  attended.  lie  ncv?r  made 
a  bet  or  a  new  acquaintance,  but  he  seemed  to  like  meeting 
men  with  whom  he  had  been  at  school.  There  is  certainly  a 
magic  in  the  memory  of  school-boy  friendships  ;  it  softens  the 
heart,  and  even  affects  the  nervous  system  of  those  who  have 
no  hearts.  Lord  Montfort  at  Newmarket  would  ask  half  a 
dozen  men  who  had  been  at  school  with  him,  and  were  now 
members  of  the  Jockey  Club,  to  be  his  guests,  and  the  next  day 
all  over  the  heath,  and  after  the  heath,  all  over  May  Fair  and 
Belgravia,  you  heard  only  one  spcecli,  "  I  dined  yesterday,"  or 
"the  other  day,"  as  the  case  might  be,  "with  Montfort ;  out 
and  out  the  best  dinner  I  ever  had,  and  such  an  agreeable  fel- 


238 


ENDYMIOy. 


low  ;  the  wittiest,  tiie  most  iimuding,  certainly  the  most  charm- 
ing fellow  that  ever  lived  ;  out  and  out !  It  is  a  pity  he  docs 
uot  show  a  little  more."'  And  society  thought  the  same; 
they  thought  it  a  pity,  and  a  great  one,  that  this  fascinating 
being  of  whom  they  rarely  caught  a  glimpse,  and  who  to  them 
took  the  form  of  a  wasted  and  unsympathizing  phantom, 
should  not  show  a  little  more  and  delight  them.  But  the  most 
curious  thing  was,  that  however  rapturous  were  his  guests,  the 
feelings  of  their  host  after  they  had  left  him  were  by  no  means 
reciprocal.  On  the  contrary,  he  would  remark  to  himself, 
*'  Have  I  heard  a  single  thing  worth  remembering  ?    Not 


one. 


5> 


CHAPTER  LIII. 


ii! 


I 


il 


Endymion  was  ^  little  agitated  when  he  arrived  at  the 
door  of  Montfort '  e,  a  huge  family  mansion,  situate  in  a 
court-yard  and  looKnig  into  the  Green  Park.  When  the  door 
was  opened  lie  found  himself  in  a  large  hall  with  many  ser- 
vants, and  he  Avas  ushered  through  several  rooms  on  the  ground 
floor,  into  a  capacious  chamber  dimly  lighted,  where  there 
were  several  gentlemen,  but  not  his  hostess.  His  name  was 
announced,  and  then  a  young  man  came  up  to  him  and  men- 
tioned that  Lord  and  Lady  Montfort  would  soon  be  present, 
and  then  talked  to  him  about  the  weather.  The  Count  of 
Ferroll  arrived  after  Endymion,  and  then  another  gentleman 
whose  name  he  could  not  catch.  Then  while  he  was  making 
some  original  observations  on  the  east  wind,  and,  to  confess  the 
truth,  feeling  anything  but  at  his  ease,  tli )  folding  doors  of  a 
further  chamber  brilliantly  lighted  were  thrown  open,  and 
almost  at  the  same  moment  Lady  Montfort  entered,  and,  tak- 
ing the  Count  of  Ferroll's  arm,  walked  into  the  dining-room. 
It  w\as  a  round  table,  and  Endymion  was  told  by  the  same  gen- 
tleman who  had  already  addressed  him,  that  he  was  to  sit  by 
Lady  Montfort. 

'*Lord  Montfort  is  a  little  late  to-day,"  she  said,  ''but  he 
wished  me  not  to  wait  for  him.     And  how  are  you  after  our 


}  « 


7 HE  COUNT  OF  FKllROLL. 


23U 


st  cliarm- 
y  lie  tlocs 
ho  same ; 
iscinating 
)  to  them 
pliantom, 

the  most 
ucsts,  tlio 
no  means 

liimself, 
ig?    Not 


ii 


;cl  at  tlie 
late  in  a 
the  door 
nany  ser- 
e  ground 
^re  there 
ame  was 
nd  men- 
present, 
^ount  of 
ntleman 
making 
nfess  tlie 
lors  of  a 
)en,  and 
md,  tak- 
ig-room. 
ime  gen- 
;o  sit  by 

but  he 
iter  our 


\ 


i' 


I 


parliamentary  banquet  ?"'  slie  said,  turning  to  Endymion  ; 
will  introduce  you  to  the  Count  of  Ferroll.'' 

The  Count  of  Ferroll  was  a  young  man,  and  yet  inclined  to 
bo  bald.  He  was  chief  of  a  not  iiicon.sidcrablc  mission  at  our 
court.  Though  not  to  be  described  as  a  handsome  man,  his 
countenance  was  striking  ;  a  broAV  of  much  intellectual  devel- 
opment, and  a  massive  jaw.  II  •  was  tall,  broad-shouldered, 
with  a  slender  waist.  lie  greeted  Endymion  with  a  penetrat- 
ing glance,  and  then  with  a  winning  smile. 

The  Count  of  Ferroll  was  the  representative  of  a  kingdom 
which,  if  not  exactly  created,  had  been  molded  into  a  certain 
form  of  apparent  strength  and  importance  by  the  Congress  of 
Vienna.  lie  was  a  noble  of  considerable  estate  in  a  country 
where  possessions  were  not  extensive  or  fortunes  large,  though 
it  was  ruled  by  an  ancient,  and  haughty,  and  warlike  aristoc- 
racy. Like  his  class,  the  Count  of  Ferroll  had  received  a 
military  education ;  but  when  that  education  was  completed, 
he  found  but  a  feeble  prospect  of  his  acquirements  being  called 
into  action.  It  was  believed  that  the  age  of  great  wars  had 
ceased,  and  that  even  revolutions  were  for  the  future  to  be  con- 
trolled by  diplomacy.  As  he  was  a  man  of  an  original,  not  to 
say  eccentric,  turn  of  mind,  the  Count  of  Ferroll  was  not  con- 
tented with  the  resources  and  distraction  of  his  second-rate 
capital.  He  was  an  eminent  sportsman,  and,  for  some  time, 
took  refuge  and  found  excitement  in  the  breadth  of  his  dark 
forests,  and  in  the  formation  of  a  stud,  which  had  already  be- 
come celebrated.  But  all  this  time,  even  in  the  excitement  of 
the  chase,  and  in  the  raising  of  his  rare  bred  steeds,  the  Count 
of  Ferroll  might  be  said  to  have  been  brooding  over  the  posi- 
tion of  what  he  could  scarcely  call  his  country,  but  rather  an 
aggregation  of  lands  baptized  by  protocols,  and  christened  and 
consolidated  by  treaties  wlilch  he  looked  upon  as  eminently 
untrustworthy.  One  day  ho  surprised  his  sovereign,  with 
whom  he  was  a  favorite,  ^^y  requesting  to  be  appointed  to  the 
legation  at  London,  which  was  vacant.  The  appointment  was 
at  once  made,  and  the  Count  of  Ferroll  had  now  been  two 
years  at  the  Court  of  St.  James'. 

The  Count  of  Ferroll  was  a  favorite  in  English  society,  for 


240 


EXDYMI02T. 


lie  possessed  every  quality  wliicli  there  conduces  to  success. 
He  was  of  great  family  and  of  distinguished  appearance,  muni- 
ficent and  singularly  frank  ;  was  a  dead-shot,  and  the  boldest 
of  riders,  with  horses  which  were  the  admiration  alike  of  Mel- 
ton and  Newmarket.  The  ladies  also  approved  of  him,  for  he 
was  a  consummate  waltzer,  and  mixed  with  a  badinage  gayly 
cynical  a  tone  that  could  be  tender  and  a  bewitching  smile. 

But  his  great  friend  was  Lady  Montfort.  He  told  her 
everything,  and  consulted  her  on  everything ;  and  though  he 
rarely  praised  anybody,  it  had  reached  her  ears  that  the  Count 
of  Ferroll  had  said  more  than  onco  that  she  was  a  greater 
woman  than  ^ouise  of  Savoy  or  the  Duchesse  de  Longueville. 

There  was  a  slight  rustling  in  the  room.  A  gentleman  had 
entered  and  glided  into  his  unoccupied  chair,  which  his  valet 
had  guarded.  ''I  fear  I  am  not  in  time  for  an  oyster,"  said 
Lord  Montfort  to  his  neighbor. 

The  gentleman  who  had  first  spoken  to  Endymion  was  the 
secretary  of  Lord  Montfort ;  then  there  was  a  great  genius  who 
was  projecting  a  suspension  bridge  over  the  Tyne,  and  that  was 
in  Lord  Montfort's  country.  A  distinguished  officer  of  the 
British  Museum  completed  the  party  with  a  person  who  sat 
opposite  Endymion,  and  whom  in  the  dim  twilight  he  had  not 
recognized,  but  whom  ho  now  beheld  with  no  little  emotion. 
It  was  Nigel  Penruddock.  They  had  not  met  since  his  moth- 
er's funeral,  and  the  associations  of  the  past  agitated  En- 
dymion. They  exchanged  recognitions  ;  that  of  Nigel  was  grave 
but  kind. 

Tlie  conversation  Avas  what  is  called  general,  and  a  great 
deal  on  suspension  bridges.  Lord  Montfort  himself  led  off  on 
this,  in  order  to  bring  out  his  distinguished  guest.  The  Count 
of  Ferroll  was  also  interested  on  this  subject,  as  his  own  govern- 
ment Avas  maki'.ig  inquiries  on  the  matter.  The  gentleman 
from  the  Bricish  Museum  made  seme  remarks  on  the  mode  in 
which  the  ancient  Egyptians  moved  masses  of  granite,  and 


quoted  Herodotus  to  the  civil 


engineer. 


The  civil  engineer 


had  never  heard  of  Herodotus,  but  he  said  he  Avas  going  to 
Egypt  in  the  autumn  by  desire  of  Mehemet  Ali,  and  he  would 
undertake  to  moAC  any  mass  Avhich  Avas  requisite,  CA'en  if  it 


9      10 


EXDYMIoy  AXD  LORD  MOXTFORT. 


241 


to  success, 
nco,  muiii- 
;he  boldest 
ke  of  Mel- 
i.im,  for  he 
Qage  gayly 
I  smile. 
Q  told  lier 
though  he 
the  Count 
3  a  greater 
ngueville. 
tleman  had 
ill  his  valet 
yster,"  said 

ion  was  the 
genius  who 
lid  that  was 
icer  of  the 
3n  who  sat 
he  had  not 
e  emotion, 
his  moth- 
itated  En- 
!l  was  grave 

find  a  great 
f  led  off  on 
The  Count 
wn  govern- 
gentleman 
he  mode  in 
'anite,  and 
il  engineer 
as  going  to 
d  he  would 
even  if  it 


were  a  pyramid  itself.  Lady  Montfort,  without  disturbing  the 
general  conversation,  whispered  in  turns  to  the  Count  of  Fer- 
roU  and  Endymion,  and  told  the  latter  that  she  had  paid  a 
visit  to  Lady  lloeliumpton  in  the  morning — a  most  delightful 
visit.  There  was  no  person  she  admired  so  much  as  his  sister  ; 
she  quite  loved  her.  Tho  only  person  who  was  silent  was  Ni- 
gel, but  Lady  Montfort,  who  perceived  everything,  addressed 
him  across  the  table  with  enthusiasm  about  some  changes  ho 
had  made  in  the  services  of  some  church,  and  the  countcnauco 
of  Nigel  became  suffused  like  a  young  saint  who  has  a  glimi)so 
of  i)aradiae. 

After  dinner  Lady  Montfort  led  Endymion  to  her  lord,  and 
left  him  seated  by  his  host ;  Lord  Montfort  was  affable  and  nat- 
ural in  his  manner.  He  said,  ''I  liave  not  yet  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  Lady  Roehampton,  for  I  never  go  out  ;  but  I 
hope  to  do  so,  for  Lady  Montfort  tells  me  she  is  quite  capti- 


J5 


vating. 

*'  She  is  a  very  good  sister,"  said  Endymion. 

"  Lady  Montfort  has  told  me  a  great  deal  about  yourself, 
and  all  of  it  I  was  glad  to  hear.  I  like  young  men  who  rise 
by  their  merits,  and  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  tells  Lady  Montfort  that 
yours  are  distinguished." 

''  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  is  a  kind  master,  sir." 

''  Well,  I  was  his  fag  at  Harrow,  and  I  thought  him  so," 
said  Lord  Montfort.  "And  noAv  about  your  office  ;  tell  mo 
what  you  do.  You  were  not  there  first.  Lady  Montfort  says. 
Where  were  you  first  ?    Tell  me  all  about  it.     I  like  detail." 

It  was  impossible  to  resist  such  polislicd  and  amiable  curi- 
osity, and  Endymion  gratified  it  with  youthful  grace.  He  even 
gave  Lord  Montfort  a  sketch  of  St.  Barbe,  inspired  probably 
by  the  interview  of  the  morning.  Lord  Montfort  was  quite 
amused  with  this,  and  said  he  should  so  much  like  to  know 
Mr.  St.  Barbc.  It  was  clear,  when  the  party  broke  up,  that 
Endymion  had  made  a  favorable  impression,  for  Lord  Montfort 
said,  "You  came  here  to-day  as  Lady  Montfort's  friend,  but 
you  must  come  in  future  as  mine  also.  And  will  you  under- 
stand, I  dine  at  home  every  day  when  I  am  in  town,  and  I  give 
you  a  general  invitation.  Come  as  often  as  you  like  ;  you  will 
U 


2tt2 


FXBYMIOy. 


be  always  welcome.  Only  let  the  house  know  your  intention 
an  hour  before  dinner-time,  as  I  have  a  particular  aversion  to 
the  table  being  crowded,  or  seeing  an  empty  chair." 

Lady  Montfort  had  passed  much  of  the  evening  in  earnest 
conversation  with  Nigel,  and  when  the  guests  quitted  the 
room,  Nigel  and  Endymion  walked  away  together. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

The  meeting  between  Nigel  and  Endymion  was  not  an  or- 
dinary one,  and  when  they  were  at  length  alone,  neither  of 
them  concealed  his  feelings  of  pleasure  and  surprise  at  its  oc- 
currence. Nigel  had  been  a  curate  in  the  northern  town  which 
was  defended  by  Lord  Montfort's  proud  castle,  and  his  labors 
and  reputation  had  attracted  the  attention  of  Lady  Montfort. 
Under  the  influence  of  his  powerful  character,  the  services  of 
his  church  were  celebrated  with  a  precision  and  an  imposing 
effect,  which  soon  occasioned  a  considerable  excitement  in  the 
neighborhood,  in  time  even  in  the  county.  The  pulpit  was 
frequently  at  his  command,  for  his  rector,  who  had  imbibed 
his  Church  views,  was  not  equal  to  the  task  of  propagating 
them,  and  the  power  and  fame  of  Nigel  as  a  preacher  began  to 
be  much  rumored.  Although  the  church  at  which  he  officiated 
was  not  the  one  which  Lady  Montfort  usually  attended,  she 
was  soon  among  his-  congregation  and  remained  there.  lie 
became  a  constant  guest  at  the  castle,  and  Lady  Montfort  pre- 
sented his  church  with  a  reredos  of  alabaster.  She  did  more 
than  this.  Her  enthusiasm  exceeded  her  selfishness,  for  though 
the  sacrifice  was  great  which  would  deprive  her  of  the  minis- 
trations and  society  of  Nigel  in  the  country,  she  prevailed 
upon  the  prime  minister  to  prefer  him  to  a  new  church  in  Lon- 
don, which  had  just  fallen  vacant,  and  which  being  situated  in 
a  wealthy  and  populous  district  would  afford  him  the  oppor- 
tunity of  making  known  to  the  world  his  eloquence  and  genius. 
This  was  Nigel's  simple,  yet  not  uneventful  history ;  and  then, 
in  turn,  he  listened  to  Endymion's  brief  but  interesting  narra- 


• 


ENDYMIO]^  AND  NIGEL. 


243 


Lir  intention 
•  aversion  to 

ig  in  earnest 
quitted  the 


IS  not  an  or- 
),  neither  of 
ise  at  its  oc- 
town  which 
id  his  labors 
J  Montfort. 
e  services  of 
m  imposing 
ment  in  the 
pulpit  was 
lad  imbibed 
propagating 
ler  began  to 


lie  oJBficiated 

1 

^tended,  she 

there.      He 

ontfort  pre- 

e  did  more 

,  for  though 

f  the  minis- 

• 

le  prevailed 

ircli  in  Lon- 

I 

•  situated  in 

the  oppor- 

u 

and  genius. 

;  and  then, 

,'> 

sting  narra- 

tive  of  his  career,  and  then  they  agreed  ^o  adjourn  to  Endym- 
ion's  chambers  and  have  a  good  talk  over  the  past  and  the 
present. 

''  That  Lady  Montfort  is  a  great  woman,"  said  Nigel,  stand- 
inc:  with  his  back  to  the  fire.  *'She  has  it  in  her  to  bo  an- 
other  Empress  Helena." 

'indeed!" 

*'I  believe  she  has  only  one  thought,  and  that  the  only 
thought  worthy  the  human  mind — the  Cliurch.  I  was  glad 
to  meet  you  at  her  house.  You  have  cherished,  I  hope,  those 
views,  which  in  your  boyhood  you  so  fervently  and  seriously 
embraced. " 

"  I  am  rather  surprised,"  said  Endymion,  not  caring  to 
answer  this  inquiry,  ''at  a  Whig  lady  entertaining  such  liigh 
views  in  these  matters.  The  Liberal  party  rather  depends  on 
the  Low  Church." 

"  I  know  nothing  about  "Whigs  or  Tories  or  Liberals,  or 
any  other  new  names  which  they  invent,"  said  Nigel.  ''Nor 
do  I  know,  or  care  to  know,  what  Low  Church  means.  There 
is  but  one  Church,  and  it  is  catliolic  and  apostolic  ;  and  if  we 
act  on  its  principles,  there  will  be  no  need,  and  there  ought  to 
be  no  need,  for  any  other  form  of  government. " 

"Well,  those  are  very  distinct  views,"  said  Endymion, 
"but  are  they  as  practical  as  they  are  clear  ?  " 

"Why  should  they  not  be  practical  ?  Everything  is  prac- 
tical which  we  believe  ;  and  in  the  long  run,  which  is  most 
likely  that  we  should  believe,  what  is  taught  by  God,  or  what 
is  taught  by  man  ?  " 

"I  confess,"  said  Endymion,  '-that  in  all  matters,  both 
civil  and  religious,  I  incline  to  what  is  moderate  and  temjier- 
ate.  I  always  trace  my  dear  father's  sad  end,  and  all  the  terri- 
ble events  in  my  family,  to  his  adopting  in  1839  the  views  of 
the  extreme  party.  If  he  had  only  followed  the  example  and 
the  advice  of  his  best  friend,  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton,  what  a  differ- 
ent state  of  affairs  might  liave  occurred  I  " 

"I  know  nothing  about  politics,"  said  Nigel.  "By  being 
moderate  and  temperate  in  politics  I  suppose  you  mean  lacing 
adroit,  and  doing  that  Avhich  is  expedient  and  which  will  proba- 


m 


244 


EXDYMIOK 


bly  be  successful.  But  the  Church  is  founded  on  absolute 
truth,  and  teaches  absolute  truth,  and  there  can  be  no  com- 
promise on  such  matters." 

"Well,  I  do  not  know,"  ^^aid  Endymion,  ''but  surely  there 
are  many  very  religious  people,  who  do  not  accept  without 
reserve  everything  that  is  taught  by  the  Church.  I  hope  I  am 
a  religious  pcF^on  myself,  and  yet,  for  examj)le,  I  can  not  give 
an  unreserved  assent  to  the  whole  of  the  Athanasian  Creed." 

"  The  Athanasian  Creed  is  the  most  splendid  ecclesiastical 
lyric  ever  poured  forth  by  tlie  genius  of  man.  I  give  to  every 
clause  of  it  an  implicit  assent.  It  does  not  pretend  to  be 
divine  ;  it  is  human,  but  the  Church  has  hallowed  it,  and  tho 
Church  ever  acts  under  the  influence  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  St. 
Athanasius  was  by  far  the  greatest  man  that  ever  existed.  If 
you  cavil  at  his  creed,  you  Avill  soon  cavil  at  other  symbols.  I 
was  prepared  for  infidelity  in  London,  but  I  confess,  my  dear 
Ferrars,  you  alarm  me.  I  Avas  in  hopes  that  your  early  educa- 
tion would  have  saved  you  from  this  backsliding." 

"  But  let  us  be  calm,  my  dear  Nigel.  Do  you  mean  to  say,, 
that  I  am  to  be  considered  an  infidel  or  an  apostate  because, 
although  I  fervently  embrace  all  the  vital  truths  of  religion, 
and  tr}^  on  the  whole,  to  regulate  my  life  by  them,  I  may  have 
scruples  about  believing,  for  example,  in  the  personality  of  the 
Devil?" 

"  If  the  personality  of  Satan  be  not  a  vital  i^rinciplcof  your 
religion,  I  do  not  know  w^hat  is.  There  is  only  one  dogma 
higher.  You  think  it  is  safe,  and  I  dare  say  it  is  fashionable, 
to  fall  into  this  lax  and  really  thoughtless  discrimination  be- 
tween Avhat  is  and  Avhat  is  not  to  be  believed.  It  is  not  good 
tasto  to  belicA-e  in  the  Devil.  Give  mo  a  single  argument 
against  his  personality  which  is  not  applicable  to  the  personal- 
ity of  the  Deity.  Will  you  give  that  up  ;  and  if  so,  where  are 
you  ?  Now  mark  me  ;  you  and  I  are  young  men — you  are  a 
very  young  man.  This  is  the  year  of  grace  1839.  If  these 
loose  thoughts,  which  you  have  heedlessly  taken  up,  prevail  in 
this  country  for  a  generation  or  so — five  and  twenty  or  thirty 
years — we  may  meet  together  again,  and  I  shall  have  to  con- 
vince you  that  there  is  a  God." 


SOCIETY  AND  POLITICS. 


245 


absolute 
)  no  coni- 

rely  tliero 
without 
lope  I  am 
1  not  give 

)reed." 
lesiastical 
3  to  every 
nd  to  be 
\,  and  the 
)irit.  St. 
isted.  If 
nbols.     I 

my  dear 
ly  educa- 

m  to  say, 

because, 

religion, 

may  have 

ity  of  the 

eof  your 
e  dogma 
liionable, 
ation  be- 
not  good 
irgument 
personal- 
v^liere  arc 
^ou  are  a 
If  these 
trevail  in 
or  thirty 
D  to  con- 


*1 


! 


CIIAPTEIl   LV. 

The  balance  of  parties  in  11  ic  IIou.se  of  Commons,  which 
had  been  virtually  restored  by  Sir  Robert  Peel's  dissolution  of 
1834-,  might  be  said  to  be  formally  and  positively  established 
by  the  dissolution  of  Parliament  in  the  autumn  of  1837,  occa- 
sioned by  the  demise  of  the  crown.  The  ministerial  majority 
became  almost  nominal,  while  trouljles  from  all  quarters  seemed 
to  press  simultaneously  upon  them  :  Canadian  revolts,  Chartist 
insurrections,  Chinese  squabbles,  and  mysterious  complications 
in  Central  Asia,  which  threatened  immediate  hostilities  with 
Persia,  and  even  with  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  European 
empires.  In  addition  to  all  this,  the  revenue  continually  de- 
clined, and  every  day  the  general  })rcjudico  become  more  in- 
tense against  the  Irish  policy  of  the  ministry.  The  extreme 
popularity  of  the  Sovereign,  reflecting  some  luster  on  her  min- 
isters, had  enabled  them,  though  not  without  difficulty,  to  tide 
through  the  session  of  1838  ;  but  when  Parliament  met  in  1830 
their  prospects  were  dark,  and  it  was  known  that  there  was  a 
section  of  the  extreme  Liberals  who  would  not  be  deeply  morti- 
fied if  the  government  were  overthrown.  All  efforts,  therefore, 
political  and  social,  and  particularly  the  latter  in  which  the 
Whigs  excelled,  were  to  be  made  to  revcnt  or  to  retard  the 
catastrophe. 

Lady  Montfort  and  Lady  Iiochampton  opened  their  houf:c3 
to  the  general  world  at  an  unusually  early  period.  Their  en- 
tertainments rivaled  those  of  Zenobia,  who  with  unflagging 
gallantry,  her  radiant  face  prescient  of  triumph,  stopped  her 
bright  vis-a-vis  and  her  tall  footmen  in  the  midst  of  St.  James 
Street  or  Pall  Mall,  while  she  rapidly  inquired  from  some 
friendly  passer-by  whom  she  had  observed,  "'Tell  me  Iho 
names  of  the  Radical  members  who  want  to  turn  out  the  gox- 
ernment,  and  I  will  invite  them  directly." 

Lady  Montfort  i\ad  appropriated  tlie  Saturdays,  as  was  her 
custom  and  Ivjr  right ;  so  Myra,  with  the  advice  of  Lord  Roe- 
hampton,  had  fixed  on  Wednesdays  for  her  receptions. 

"I  should  have  liked  to  have  taken  Wednesdays,"  said  Ze- 


246 


ENDYMIOK 


iiobiu,  "but  I  do  not  care  to  seem  to  be  setting  up  against 
Lady  Roehampton,  for  lier  motlier  was  my  dearest  friend.  Not 
that  I  think  r.ny  quarter  ought  to  be  shown  to  her  after  join- 
ing those  atrocious  Whigrf,  but  to  be  sure  she  was  corrupted  by 
her  liusband,  whom  I  remember  tlie  most  thorough  Tory  going. 
To  be  sure,  I  was  a  Whig  myself  in  those  days,  so  one  must  not 
say  too  much  about  ii,  but  the  Whigs  then  Avere  gentlemen.  I 
will  tell  you  what  I  will  do.  I  will  rccoive  both  on  Saturdays 
and  Wednesdays.  It  is  an  effort,  and  I  am  not  as  young  as  I 
was,  but  it  will  only  be  for  a  season  or  less,  for  I  know  tliese 
l)Cople  can  "ot  stand.     It  will  be  all  over  by  May." 

Prince  Florestan  had  arrived  in  town,  and  was  now  settled 
in  his  mansion  in  Carlton  Terrace.  It  Avas  the  fashion  among 
the  creme  de  la  ere  me  to  keep  aloof  from  him.  The  Tories  did 
not  loA'e  revolutionary  dynasties,  and  the  AVhigs  being  in  office 
could  not  sanction  a  pretender,  and  one  AAdio,  they  significantly 
intimated  Avitli  a  charitable  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  Avas  not  a 
very  scrupulous  one.  The  prince  himself,  though  he  Avas  not 
insensible  to  the  charms  of  society,  and  especially  of  agreeable 
Avomen,  Avas  not  much  chagrined  by  this.  The  Avorld  thought 
thai  he  had  fitted  up  his  fine  house,  and  bought  his  fine  horses, 
merely  for  the  enjoyment  of  life.  His  purposes  Avere  A'cry 
different.  Though  his  acquaintances  were  limited,  they  were 
not  undistinguished,  and  he  lived  with  them  in  intimacy. 
There  had  arisen  betAveen  himself  and  Mr.  Waldershare  the 
closest  alliance  both  of  thought  and  habits.  They  Avere  rarely 
separated.  The  prince  -was  also  a  frequent  guest  at  the  Neu- 
chatels,  and  Avas  a  favorite  Avitli  the  head  of  the  house. 

The  Duke  of  St.  Angelo  controlled  the  household  at  Carl- 
ton Gardens  with  skill.  The  appointments  Avere  finished  and 
the  cuisine  refined.  There  Avas  a  dinner  tAvice  a  week,  at  Avhich 
Waldershare  was  rarely  absent,  and  to  Avliich  Endymion,  whom 
the  prince  always  treated  with  kindness,  had  a  general  invita- 
tion. When  he  occasionally  dined  there  he  met  ahvays  several 
foreign  guests,  and  all  men  apparently  of  mark — at  any  rate, 
all  distinguished  by  their  intelligence.  It  AA^as  an  interesting 
and  useful  house  for  a  young  man,  and  especially  a  young  poli- 
tician, to  frequent.     Endymion  heard  many  things  and  learned 


A    T^TE-A-T&TE  DIXNEE. 


247 


up  against 
iend.  Not 
after  join- 
•rupted  by 
ory  going, 
must  not 
:lemcn.  I 
Saturdays 
'oung  as  I 
now  tlieso 

ow  settled 
on  amono- 
Tories  did 
?  in  office 
niticantly 
was  not  a 
e  was  not 
agreeable 
1  thought 
le  liorscs, 
rere  very 
;liey  were 
ntimacy. 
siiure  the 
3re  rarely 
the  Neu- 

at  Carl- 
bed  and 
iit  which 
ti,  whom 
I  invita- 
3  several 
ny  rate, 
eresting 
ng  poli- 
learned 


"A 

I 


many  things  which  otherwise  would  not  have  met  his  ear  or 
mind.  The  prince  encouraged  conversation  though  himself 
inclined  to  taciturnity.  When  he  did  speak,  his  terse  remarks 
and  condensed  views  were  striking  and  were  remembered.  On 
the  days  on  which  he  did  not  receive,  the  prince  dined  at  the 
Travelers  Club,  to  which  Waldershare  had  obtiiinc^d  his  intro- 
duction, and  generally  with  Waldershare,  who  took  this  oppor- 
tunity of  gradually  making  his  friend  acquainted  with  eminent 
and  influential  men,  many  of  whom  in  due  time  became  guests 
at  Carlton  Terrace.  It  Tvas  clear,  indeed,  that  these  club-din- 
ners were  part  of  a  system. 

The  }>rince,  soon  after  his  arrival  in  town,  while  riding,  had 
passed  Lady  Eoehampton's  carriage  in  the  park,  and  he  had 
saluted  her  with  a  grave  grace  which  distinguished  him.  She 
was  surprised  at  feeling  a  little  agitated  by  this  rencontre.  It 
recalled  llainault,  her  not  mortifying  but  still  humble  position 
beneath  that  roof,  the  prince's  courtesy  to  her  under  those  cir- 
cumstances, and,  indeed,  his  marked  preference  for  her  soci- 
ety. She  felt  it  something  like  ingratitude  to  treat  him  with 
neglect  now,  when  her  position  was  so  changed  and  had  become 
so  elevated.  She  mentioned  to  Lord  Roehampton  while  they 
were  dining  alone,  that  she  should  like  to  invite  the  prince  to 
her  receptions,  and  asked  his  opinion  on  the  jDoint.  Lord  Roe- 
hampton shrugged  his  shoulders  and  did  not  encourage  her. 
''  Yon  know,  my  darling,  our  people  do  not  much  like  him. 
They  look  upon  him  as  a  pretender,  as  having  forfeited  his 
parole,  and  as  a  refugee  from  justice.  I  have  no  prejudices 
against  him  myself,  and  perlia})s  in  the  same  situation  might 
have  acted  in  the  same  manner  ;  but  if  he  is  to  be  admitted 
into  society,  it  should  hardly  be  at  a  ministerial  receptio.  ^^d 
of  all  houses,  that  of  one  who  holds  my  particular  post." 

'*  I  know  nothing  about  his  forfeiting  his  parole,"  said  Li..'  " 
Roehampton;  *'tlie  charge  is  involved  in  mystery,  and  Mi. 
Walde:  .arc  told  me  it  was  an  entire  fabrication.  As  for  his 
being  a  pretender,  he  seems  to  me  as  legitimate  a  prince  as 
most  we  meet ;  he  was  born  in  the  purple,  and  his  father  was 
recognized  by  every  government  in  Europe  except  our  own. 
As  for  being  a  refugee  from  justice,  a  prince  in  captivity  has 


W- 


248 


ENDYMION. 


!;! 


I  i 


certainly  a  ri^^lit  to  escape  if  lie  can,  and  his  escape  was  roman- 
tic. However,  I  ■will  not  contest  Jiny  decision  of  yours,  for  I 
think  you  aro  always  right.  Only  I  am  disappointed,  for,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  unkindness,  I  can  not  help  feeling  our  not 
noticing  him  is  rather  shabby." 

There  was  a  silence,  a  longer  silence  than  usually  occurred 
in  ti'te-a-tete  dinners  between  Lord  and  Lady  Roehampton. 
To  break  the  silence  he  began  to  converse  on  another  subject, 
and  Lady  Roehampton  replied  to  him  cheerfully,  but  curtly.  He 
saw  she  was  vexed,  and  this  great  man,  who  was  jit  that  time 
meditating  one  of  the  most  daring  acts  of  modern  diplomacy, 
who  had  the  reputation,  in  the  conduct  of  public  affairs,  of  not 
only  being  courageous,  but  of  being  stern,  inflexible,  unfeeling 
and  unscrupulous  beyond  ordinary  statesmen,  who  had  passed 
his  mornings  in  writing  a  menacing  dispatch  to  a  great  power 
and  intimating  combinations  to  the  ambassadors  of  other  first- 
rate  states  which  they  almost  trembled  to  receive,  was  quite 
upset  by  seeing  his  wife  chagrined.  At  last,  after  another  em- 
barrassing pause,  he  said  gayh,  "Do  you  know,  my  dear  Myra, 
I  do  not  see  why  you  should  aot  ask  Prince  Florestan.  It  is 
you  that  ask  him,  not  I.  That  is  one  of  the  pleasant  results 
of  our  system  of  political  enterlainments.  The  guests  come  to 
pay  their  respects  to  the  lady  cf  the  house,  so  no  one  is  com- 
mitted. The  i^rincc  may  visit  j'ou  on  Wednesday  Just  as  well 
as  the  leaders  of  the  opposition  who  want  our  places,  or  the 
malcontent  Radicals  who  they  say  are  going  to  turn  us  out." 

So  Prince  Florestan  was  invited  to  Lady  Roehampton's  re- 
ceptions, and  he  came  ;  and  he  never  missed  one.  His  visits 
•were  brief.  He  appeared,  made  his  bow,  had  the  pleasure  of 
fiome  slight  conversation  with  her,  and  then  soon  retired.  Re- 
ceived by  Lady  Roehampton,  in  time,  though  sluggishly,  invi- 
tations arrived  from  other  houses,  but  1.  e  rarely  availed  himself 
of  them.  He  maintained  in  this  respect  great  reserve,  and 
■was  accustomed  to  say  that  the  only  fine  lady  in  London  who 
had  ever  been  kind  to  him  was  Lady  Roehampton. 

All  this  time  Endymion,  who  was  now  thoroughly  planted 
in  society,  saw  a  great  deal  of  the  Neuchatels,  who  had  returned 
to  Portland  Place  at  the  beginning  of  February.    He  met  Adri- 


i 


SE/MOUR  niCKS. 


was  roman- 
^oiirs,  for  I 
ted,  for,  to 
ing  our  not 

ly  occurred 
•ehampton. 
er  subject, 
3urtly.    Ho 
;  that  time 
diplomacy, 
airs,  of  not 
,  unfeeling 
had  passed 
I'eat  power 
other  first- 
Avas  quite 
lother  em- 
lear  ]\Iyra, 
an.     It  is 
tnt  results 
fcs  come  to 
Q  is  com- 
ist  as  well 
es,  or  the 
IS  out. " 
pton's  ro- 
His  visits 
leasure  of 
red.     Ee- 
hly,  invi- 
d  himself 
3rve,  and. 
idon  who 

Y  planted 
returned 
net  Adri- 


m 


It 

i:    .S.- 

i   t 


i'^' 


{ 


241) 


ana  almost  every  evening,  and  wa>3  frequently  invited  to  the 
house — to  the  grand  dinners  now,  as  well  as  tlie  domestic  circU-. 
In  short  our  Endymion  was  fast  becoming  a  young  man  of 
fashion  and  a  personage.  The  brother  of  Lady  liochamptou 
had  now  become  the  private  secretary  of  Mr.  Sidney  Willun 
and  the  great  friend  of  Lady  Montfort.  lie  was  indeed  only 
one  of  the  numerous  admirers  of  that  ladv,  but  he  seemed  not 
the  least  smiled  on.  There  was  never  anything  delightful  at 
Montfort  House  at  which  he  was  not  present,  or  indeed,  in  any 
otlicr  place,  for  under  her  influence,  invitations  from  tlie  most 
distinguished  houses  crowded  his  manteli)iccc  and  were  stuck 
all  round  his  looking-glass.  Endvmion  in  this  whirl  of  life 
did  not  forget  his  old  friends.  He  took  care  that  Seymour 
Hicks  should  have  a  frequent  invitation  to  Lady  Roehanipton's 
assemblies.  Seymour  Hicks  only  wanted  a  lever  to  raise  the 
globe,  and  this  introduction  supplied  him  with  one.  It  was 
astonishing  how  he  made  his  way  in  society,  and  though,  of 
course,  he  never  touched  the  empyrean  regions  in  Avliich  En- 
dymion noAV  breathed,  he  gradually,  and  at  last  rapidly,  planted 
himself  in  a  world  which  to  tho  uninitiated  figures  as  the  very 
realm  of  nobility  and  fashion,  and  where  doubtless  are  found 
a  great  fund  of  splendor,  refinement,  and  ar..u;:oment.  Sey- 
mour Hicks  was  not  ill-favored  and  was  alv  ays  well-dressed, 
and  he  was  very  civil,  but  Avhat  he  really  owed  his  social  ad- 
vancement to  was  his  indomitable  will.  That  quality  governs 
all  things,  and  though  the  will  of  Seymour  Hicks  was  directed 
to  what  many  may  deem  a  petty  or  a  contracted  purpose,  life 
is  always  interesting  when  you  have  a  purpose  and  live  in  its 
fulfillment.  It  appeared  from  what  he  told  Endymion  that 
matters  at  the  office  had  altered  a  good  deal  since  ho  left  it. 
The  retirement  of  St.  Barbe  Avas  the  first  brick  out  of  the  wall ; 
now,  which  Endymion  had  not  yet  heard,  the  brother  of  Tren- 
chard  had  most  unexpectedly  died,  and  that  gentleman  como 
into  a  good  estate.  "  Jawett  remains,  and  is  also  the  editor  of 
the  '  Precursor,'  but  his  new  labors  so  absorb  his  spare  time  that 
he  is  always  at  the  office  of  the  paper.  So  it  is  pretty  well  all 
over  with  the  table  at  Joe's.  I  confess  I  could  not  stand  it 
any  longer,  particularly  after  you  left.     I  have  got  into  the 


'  II 


250 


EXDYMIOX. 


junior  Pan-Ionian  ;  and  I  am  down  for  the  senior  ;  I  can  not 
get  in  for  ten  years,  but  when  I  do  it  will  bo  a  coiq) ;  the  so- 
ciety there  is  tiptop,  u  cabinet  minister  sometimes,  and  very 
often  a  bishop." 


CHAPTER   LVI. 

ExDYMioK  was  glad  to  meet  Baron  Sergius  one  day  when 
he  dined  with  Prince  Florestan.  There  were  several  distin- 
guished foreigners  among  the  guests,  who  had  just  arrived. 
They  talked  much,  and  with  much  emphasis.  One  of  them, 
the  Marquis  of  Vallombrosa,  expatiated  on  the  Latin  race, 
their  great  qualities,  their  vivacity,  invention,  vividness  of 
perception,  chivalrous  valor,  and  sympathy  with  tradition. 
The  northern  races  detested  them,  and  the  height  of  states- 
manship was  to  combine  the  I^atin  races  into  an  organized  and 
active  alliance  against  the  barbarism  which  menaced  them. 
There  had  been  for  a  short  time  a  vacant  place  next  to  En- 
dymion,  when  Baron  Sergius,  according  to  his  quiet  manner, 
stole  into  the  room  and  slipped  into  the  unoccupied  seat.  "  It 
is  some  time  since  we  met,"  he  said,  "  but  I  have  heard  of  you. 
You  are  now  a  public  man,  and  not  a  public  character.  That 
is  a  not  unsatisfactory  position." 

The  prince  listened  apparently  with  much  interest  to  the 
Marquis  of  Vallombrosa,  occasionally  asked  him  a  question, 
and  promoted  discussion  without  himself  giving  any  opinion. 
Baron  Sergius  never  spoke  except  to  Eudymion,  and  then 
chiefly  social  inquiries  about  Lord  and  Lady  Eoehampton,  their 
good  friends  the  Neuchatels,  and  frequently  about  Mr.  Sidney 
Wilton,  whom,  it  appeared,  he  had  known  years  ago,  and  inti- 
mately. After  dinner  the  guests,  on  their  return  to  the  saloon, 
ranged  themselves  in  a  circle,  but  not  too  formally,  and  the 
prince  moving  round  addressed  each  of  them  in  turn.  "When 
this  royal  ceremony  was  concluded  the  prince  motioned  to  the 
Marquis  of  Vallombrosa  to  accompany  him,  and  then  they 
repaired  to  an  adjacent  saloon,  the  door  of  which  was  open, 
but  where  they  could  converse  without  observation.      The 


THE  LATIX  liACE. 


251 


can  not 
the  so- 
ind  very 


ly  wlien 
distin- 

arrivetl. 
'f  them, 
in  nice, 
iness  of 

udition. 
C  sttitcs- 
izcd  and 
tliom. 

to  En- 
manner, 
1.  ''It 
[  of  you. 
.     That 

t  to  the 
uestion, 
)pinion. 
id  tlien 
•n,  tlieir 

Sidney 
nd  inti- 

saloon, 
md  the 

When 

.  to  the 

in  they 

3  open, 

The 


Duke  of  St.  Angelo  amused  the  rcnuiining  guests  with  all  the 
resources  of  a  man  practiced  in  making  people  feel  at  their 
ease,  and  in  this  he  was  soon  greatly  assisted  by  Mr.  AValdcr- 
share  who  was  unable  to  dine  with  the  prince  to-day,  but  who 
seemed  to  take  much  interest  in  this  arrival  of  the  re])rcscnta- 
tivcs  of  the  Latin  race. 

Baron  Sergius  and  Endymion  were  sitting  together  rather 
apart  from  the  rest.  The  baron  said,  ''  You  have  heard  to-day 
a  great  deal  about  the  Latin  race,  their  Avondrous  qualities, 
their  peculiar  destiny,  their  possible  danger.  It  is  a  new  idea, 
or  rather  a  new  phrase,  that  I  observe  is  now  getting  into  the 
political  world,  and  is  probably  destined  to  produce  conse- 
quences. No  man  will  treat  with  indifference  the  princiide  of 
race.  It  is  the  key  of  history,  and  why  history  is  often  so  con- 
fused is  that  it  has  been  written  by  men  who  WTre  ignorant  of 
this  jirinciple  and  all  the  knowledge  it  involves.  As  one  who 
may  become  a  statesman  and  assist  in  governing  mankind,  it 
is  necessary  that  you  should  not  be  insensible  to  it ;  whether 
you  encounter  its  influence  in  communities  or  in  individuals,  its 
f[ualities  must  ever  be  taken  into  account.  But  there  is  no  sub- 
ject which  more  requires  discriminating  knowledge,  or  where 
your  illustrating  in'incix)le,  if  you  are  not  deeply  founded,  may 
not  chance  to  turn  out  a  will-o'-the-wisp.  Xow  this  great 
question  of  the  Latin  race,  by  wiiich  M.  de  Vallombroi  i  may 
succeed  in  disturbing  the  world — it  might  be  well  to  inquire 
where  the  Latin  race  is  to  be  found  ?  In  tlie  North  of  Italy 
peopled  liy  Germans  and  named  after  Germans,  or  in  the  South 
of  Italy,  swarming  with  the  descendants  of  Normans  and 
Arabs  ?  Shall  we  find  the  Latin  race  in  Spain,  stocked  by 
Goths,  and  Moors,  and  Jews  ?  Or  in  France,  where  there  is  a 
great  Celtic  nation,  occasionally  mingled  with  Franks  ?  Now 
I  do  not  want  to  go  into  the  origin  of  man  and  nations — I  am 
essentially  practical,  and  only  endeavor  to  comprehend  that 
with  which  I  have  personally  to  deal,  and  that  is  sufficiently 
difficult.  In  Europe  I  find  three  great  races  with  distinct 
qualities — the  Teutons,  the  Sclaves,  and  the  Celts ;  and  their 
conduct  Avill  be  influenced  by  those  distinctive  qualities.  There 
is  another  great  race  which  influences  the  world,  the  Semites. 


252 


EXD  YMIOy. 


Cei-t;iinly,  when  I  was  iit  the  Congress  of  Vienna,  I  did  not 
Ijclievc  that  tlic  Arabs  were  more  likely  to  become  a  conquer- 
ing race  again  tluin  the  Tartars,  and  yet  it  is  a  question  at  this 
'noraent  whether  Mehemet  Ali,  at  their  head,  may  not  found 
a  new  empire  in  the  Mediterranean.  The  Semites  are  un- 
<luestionably  a  great  race,  for  among  the  few  things  in  this 
world  which  appear  to  be  certain,  nothing  is  more  sure  than 
that  they  invented  our  alphabet.  But  the  Semites  now  exer- 
cise a  vast  influence  over  affairs  by  their  smallest  though  most 
peculiar  family,  the  Jews.  There  is  no  race  gifted  with  so 
much  tenacit}',  and  i^ich  skill  in  organization.  These  quali- 
ties have  given  them  an  unprecedented  hold  over  i)roperty  and 
illimitable  credit.  As  you  advance  in  life,  and  get  experience 
in  affairs,  the  Jews  Avill  cross  you  everywhere.  They  have 
long  been  stealing  into  our  secret  diplomacy,  which  they  have 
almost  appropriated  ;  in  another  quarter  of  a  century  they 
will  claim  their  share  of  open  government.  Well,  these  are 
races  ;  men  and  bodies  of  men  influenced  in  their  conduct  by 
their  particular  organization,  and  which  must  enter  into  all 
the  ^. .  Iculations  of  a  statesman.  But  what  do  they  mean  by 
the  Latin  race  ?  Language  and  religion  do  not  make  a  race — 
there  is  only  one  thing  which  makes  a  race,  and  that  is  blood." 

"  But  the  prince,"  said  Endymion  inquiringly  ;  ^'  he  seemed 
mucli  interested  in  what  M.  do  Vallombrosa  was  saying;  I 
should  like  to  know  what  his  opinions  are  about  the  Latin  race." 

"The  prince  rarely  gives  an  opinion,"  said  the  baron. 
*'  Lideed,  as  you  well  know,  he  rarely  speaks  ;  he  thinks  and 
he  acts." 

"  But  if  he  acts  on  wrong  information,"  cotitinued  Endym- 
ion, ''there  will  probably  bo  only  one  consequence." 

"The  prince  is  very  wise,"  said  the  baron;  ''and,  trust 
me,  knows  as  much  about  mankind,  and  the  varieties  of  man- 
kind, as  any  one.  He  may  not  believe  in  the  Latin  race,  but 
he  may  choose  to  use  those  who  do  believe  in  it.  The  weakness 
of  the  prince,  if  he  have  one,  is  not  want  of  knowledge,  or 
■want  of  judgment,  but  an  over-confidence  in  his  star,  which 
sometimes  seduces  him  into  enterprises  which  he  himself  feels 
at  the  time  are  not  perfectly  sound." 


MAliUIAGE  OF  I  MO  G  EXE. 


253 


[  (lid  not 
conqucr- 
311  at  tlii.s 
lot  fouiul 
1  are  un- 
^s  in  this 
sure  than 
low  cxcr- 
ugli  most 
[  "with  so 
esc  quali- 
[icrty  and 
xpcrienco 
hey  liavo 
iliey  liavo 
iiry  tliey 
tlicse  are 
nduct  by 
•  into  all 
mean  by 
a  race — 
s  blood." 
e  seemed 
aying;  I 
in  race." 
baron, 
inks  and 

Endym- 

id,  trust 
of  man- 
'ace,  but 
weakness 
edge,  or 
",  which 
elf  feels 


■ 


CIIAPTKIi   LVir. 

The  interest  of  tlic  town  Avas  now  divided  between  the 
danger  of  the  govermncnt  and  the  new  preacher  who  electrified 
the  world  at  St.  Kosicrucius.  The  Rev.  Nigel  Pedruddock 
was  not  at  all  a  poi)ular  prcaclier  according  to  the  vulgar  ac- 
ceptation of  tlio  term,  lie  disdained  all  cant  and  clajjtrap. 
lie  preached  Church  jjrinciiilcs  with  commanding  eloquence, 
and  he  practiced  them  with  unceasing  devotion.  His  Church 
was  always  open,  yet  his  schools  were  never  neglected  ;  there 
was  a  perfect  choir,  a  staff  of  disci[)lined  curates,  young  and 
ascccic,  while  sacred  sisters,  some  of  i)atrician  blood,  fearless 
and  prepared  for  martyrdom,  were  gliding  about  all  the  back 
slums  of  his  ferociou3  neighborhood.  How  came  the  Whigs 
to  give  such  n  church  to  such  a  person  ?  There  must  have 
been  some  mistake.  But  how  came  it  that  all  the  Whig  ladies 
were  among  the  most  devoted  of  his  congregation  ?  The  gov- 
ernment whips  did  not  like  it ;  at  such  a  critical  period  too, 
when  it  was  necessary  to  keep  the  Dissenters  up  to  the  mark  ! 
And  there  was  Lady  ^lontfort  and  Lady  Iioehampton  never 
absent  on  a  Sunday,  and  their  carriages,  it  was  whispered, 
were  often  suspiciously  near  to  St.  Rosicvucius  on  week-days. 
Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  too  was  frequently  in  Lady  Roehampton's 
pew,  and  one  day,  absolutely  my  lord  himself,  Avho  unfortu- 
nately was  rarely  seen  at  church — but  then,  as  is  well  known, 
critical  dispatches  always  arrive  on  a  Sunday  morning — was 
successfully  landed  in  her  pew  by  Lady  Roehampton,  and  was 
very  much  struck  indeed  by  what  he  heard.  "  The  fact  is," 
as  he  afterward  observed,  "I  wish  we  had  such  a  fellow  on  our 
bench  in  the  House  of  Commons." 

About  this  time  also  there  was  another  event,  which, 
although  not  of  so  general  an  interest,  much  touched  the  feel- 
ings of  Endymion,  and  this  was  the  marriage  of  the  Earl  of 
Beaumaris  with  Imogene.  It  was  solemnized  in  as  private  and 
quiet  a  manner  as  possible.  Waldershare  was  the  best  man, 
and  there  w^ere  no  bridesmaids.     The  only  other  persons  in- 


251 


ENDYMIOK 


t 


"\    i 


i 


yitcd  by  Mr.  Rodney,  who  gare  a,v;ay  the  bride,  were  Endym- 
ion  and  Mr.  Vigo. 

One  morning,  a  few  days  before  the  wedding,  Sylvia,  who 
had  written  to  ask  i^ady  Roeliampton  for  an  interview,  called 
by  appointment  in  St.  James'  Square.  Sylvia  was  received  by 
Lady  Roehampton  in  her  boudoir,  and  the  interview  was  long. 
Sylvia,  who  by  nature  was  composed,  and  still  more  so  by  art, 
was  pale  and  nervous  when  she  arrived,  so  much  so  that  her 
demeanor  was  noticed  by  the  groom  of  the  chambers ;  but 
when  she  departed,  her  countenance  was  flushed  and  radiant, 
though  it  was  obvious  that  she  had  been  shedding  tears.  On 
the  morning  of  the  wedding,  Lady  Roehampton  in  her  lord's 
brougham  called  for  Endymion  at  the  Albany,  and  then  they 
went  together  to  the  vestry  of  St.  James'  Church.  Lord  Beau- 
maris and  Mr.  Waldershare  had  arrived.  The  bridegroom  was 
a  little  embarrassed  when  presented  to  Lady  Roehampton.  He 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  be  married,  but  not  to  be  introduced 
to  a  stranger,  and  particularly  a  lady  ;  but  ^Ir.  Waldershare  flut- 
tered over  them  and  put  all  right.  It  was  only  the  perplexity 
of  a  moment,  for  the  rest  of  the  wcddinir  party  now  appeared. 
Imogene,  who  was  in  a  traveling  dress,  was  pale  and  serious, 
but  transcendently  beautiful.  She  attempted  to  toucli  Lady 
Roehampton's  hand  wath  her  lips  wiien  Myra  welcomed  her, 
but  Lady  Roehampton  would  not  permit  this  and  kissed  her. 
Everybody  was  calm  during  the  ceremony  except  Endymion, 
who  had  been  silent  the  whole  morning.  He  stood  by  the  altar 
with  that  convulsion  of  the  throat  and  that  sickness  of  the 
heart  which  accompany  the  sense  of  catastrophe.  He  was  re- 
lieved by  some  t  sars  which  he  easily  concealed.  Nobody  no- 
ticed him,  for  all  were  thinking  of  themselves.  After  the 
ceremony,  they  all  returned  to  the  vestry,  and  Lady  Roehamp- 
ton with  the  others  signed  the  registry.  Lord  and  Lady  Beau- 
maris instantly  departed  for  the  continent. 

'*A  strange  event!"  exclaimed  Lady  Roehampton,  as  she 
threw  herself  back  in  the  brougham  and  took  her  brotlier's 
hand.  "  But  not  stranger  than  what  has  happened  to  ourselves. 
Fortune  seems  to  attend  on  our  ruined  home.  I  thought  the 
bride  looked  beautiful." 


BEREXGARIA'S  CHARACTER. 


255 


3  Endym- 

^Ivia,  wlio 
3W,  called 
ceived  by 
was  long, 
so  by  art, 

that  her 
)ers ;  but 
I  radiant, 
ears.  On 
lier  lord's 
then  they 
3rd  Bcau- 
,Toom  was 
ton.  He 
itroduced 
;liare  flut- 
)erplexity 
ippeared. 
I  serious, 
ucli  Lady 
med  her, 
ssed  her. 
idymion, 

the  altar 
ss  of  the 
e  was  re- 
body  no- 
Vftcr  the 
loehamp- 
dy  Beau- 

n,  as  she 
brother's 
)urselves. 
light  the 


Endymion  was  silent. 

*'  You  are  not  gay  this  morning,  my  dear,"  said  Lady  Roe- 
hampton ;  ''they  say  that  weddings  are  depressing.  Now  I 
am  in  rather  high  spirits.  I  am  very  glad  that  Imogene  has 
become  Lady  Beaumaris.  She  is  beautiful,  and  dangerously 
beautiful.  Do  you  know,  my  Endymion,  I  have  had  some  un- 
easy moments  about  this  young  lady.  Women  are  prescient  in 
these  matters,  and  I  have  observed  with  anxiety,  that  you  ad- 
mired her  too  much  yourself. " 

"1  am  sure  you  had  no  rea  on  Myra,"  said  Endymion, 
blushing  deeply. 

*'  Certainly  not  from  what  you  said,  my  dear.  It  was  from 
what  you  did  not  say  that  I  became  alarmed.  You  seldom 
mentioned  her  name,  and  when  I  referred  to  her,  you  always 
turned  the  conversation.  IIowe\er,  that  is  all  over  now.  She 
is  Countess  of  Beaumaris,"  added  Myra,  dwelling  slowly  and 
with  some  unction,  on  the  title,  "  and  mtiy  be  a  powerful  friend 
to  you  ;  and  I  am  Countess  of  Roehampton,  and  am  your 
friend,  also  not  quite  devoid  of  power.  And  there  are  other 
countesses,  I  suspect,  on  whose  good  wislies  you  may  rely. 
If  we  can  not  shape  your  destiny,  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
witchcraft.  No,  Endymion,  marriage  is  a  mighty  instrument 
in  your  hands.  It  must  not  be  lightly  used.  Come  in  and 
lunch  ;  my  lord  is  at  home,  and  I  know  lie  wants  to  see  you." 


CHAPTER  LVm. 

What  was  most  remarkable,  and  most  interesting,  in  tlie 
character  of  Berengaria  was  her  energy.  She  had  the  power 
of  exciting  others  to  action  in  a  degree  rarely  possessed.  Slie 
had  al  »v'ays  some  considerable  object  in  contemplation,  occasion- 
ally more  than  one,  and  never  foresaAV  difficulties.  Her  character 
was,  however,  singularly  feminine  ;  she  never  affected  to  be  a 
superior  woman.  She  never  reasoned,  did  not  read  much,  though 
her  literary  taste  was  fine  and  fastidious.  Though  she  required 
constant  admiration  and  consequently  encouraged  it,  she  was 


m' 


I    \ 


I 


25G 


EITDYMIOX. 


not  a  lioartless  coquette.  Ilor  sensibility  was  too  quick,  and 
as  the  reign  of  bci*  favorites  was  sometimes  brief,  she  was  looked 
iijion  as  capricious.  The  truth  is,  what  seemed  whimsical  in 
her  affections  ;vas  occasioned  by  the  subtlety  of  her  taste,  which 
was  not  ahvays  satisfied  by  the  increased  experience  of  intimacy. 
Whenever  she  made  a  friend  not  unworthy  of  her,  she  Avas  con- 
stant and  entirely  devoted. 

At  present,  Berengaria  had  two  great  objects ;  one  was  to 
sustain  the  Whig  government  in  its  troubles,  and  the  other  was 
to  accomplish  an  unprecedented  feat  in  modern  Manners,  and 
that  was  no  less  than  to  hold  a  tournament,  a  real  i  namcni, 
in  the  autumn,  at  the  famous  castle  of  her  lord  in  tl^  north  of 
England. 

The  lord-lioutenant  had  not  been  in  his  county  for  two 
years  ;  he  had  even  omitted  to  celebrate  Christmas  at  his  castle, 
which  had  shocked  everybody,  for  its  revelry  was  looked  upon 
nlmost  as  the  tenure  by  which  the  Montforts  held  their  estates. 
His  plea  of  ill-health,  industriously  circulated  by  all  his  agents, 
neither  obtained  sympathy  nor  credence.  His  county  was  rather 
a  weak  point  with  Lord  Montfort,  for  though  he  could  not  bear 
his  home,  he  was  fond  of  power,  and  power  depended  on  his 
territorial  influence.  The  representation  of  his  county  by  his 
family,  and  authority  in  the  local  parliamentary  boroughs,  were 
the  compensations  held  out  to  him  for  the  abolition  of  his  nom- 
ination boroughs.  His  wife  dexterously  availed  herself  of  this 
state  of  affairs  to  obtain  his  assent  to  her  grtit  project,  wliicli, 
it  would  appear,  might  not  only  amuse  him,  but,  in  its  unpre- 
cedented magnificence  and  novelty,  must  sweep  away  all  discon- 
tents, and  gratify  every  class. 

Lord  Montfort  had  placed  unlimited  resources  ft  the  disposal 
of  Berengaria  for  the  fulfillment  of  her  purpose,  and  at  times 
even  shov/ed  some  not  inconsiderable  though  fitful  interest  in 
her  progress.  He  turned  over  the  drawings  of  the  various  cos- 
tumes and  armor  with  a  gracious  smile,  and  having  picked  up 
•on  such  subjects  a  great  deal  of  knowledge,  occasionally  made 
suggestions  which  were  useful  and  sometimes  embarrassing. 
The  heralds  were  all  called  into  council,  and  Garter  himself 
deigned  to  regulate  the  order  of  proceedings.     Some  of  the 


f 


A    ORAVE  OUTLOOK. 


25  T 


[nick,  and 
vas  looked 
imsical  in 
ste,  which 
intimacy. 
3  was  cou- 

)nG  was  to 
other  was 
mcrs,  and 
iiamcnt, 
nortli  of 

')  for  two 
his  castle, 
ked  upon 
ir  estat"-. 
lis  agents, 
vas  rather 
1  not  bear 
ed  on  his 
ity  by  his 
ighs,  were 
his  nom- 
Blf  of  this 
it,  Avhich, 
its  unpre- 
ill  discon- 

e  disposal 
I  at  times 
iterest  in 
I'ious  cos- 
)icked  up 
dly  made 
irrassing. 
:  himself 
te  of  the 


finest  gentlemen  in  London,  of  both  parties  in  the  state,  passed 
the  greater  part  of  their  spring  mornings  in  jousting,  and  in 
practicing  all  the  manceuvres  of  the  lists.  Lady  Montfort  her- 
self was  to  be  the  Queen  of  the  Tournament,  and  she  had  pre- 
vailed on  Lady  Roehampton  to  accept  the  supremo  office  of 
Queen  of  Beauty. 

It  was  the  early  part  of  May,  and  Zenobia  held  one  of  her 
great  assemblies.  Being  in  high  good  humor,  sanguine  and 
prophetic  of  power,  she  had  asked  all  the  great  AVhig  ladies, 
and,  the  times  being  critical,  they  had  come.  Bercngaria 
seemed  absorbed  by  the  details  of  her  tournament.  She  met 
many  of  her  knights,  and  she  conferred  with  tlicm  all :  the 
Knight  of  the  Bleeding  Heart,  the  Knight  of  Roses,  the  Knight 
of  the  Crystal  Shield. 

Endymion,  who  was  not  to  be  a  knight,  but  a  gentleman- 
at-arms  in  attendance  on  the  Queen  of  the  Tournament,  men- 
tioned that  Prince  Florestan  much  wished  to  be  a  jouster  ;  he 
had  heard  this  from  the  Duke  of  St.  Angelo,  and  Lady  Mont- 
fort, though  she  did  not  immediately  sanction,  did  not  abso- 
lutely refuse,  the  reiiuest. 

Past  midnight,  there  was  a  sudden  stir  in  the  saloons.  The 
House  of  Commons  had  broken  up  and  many  members  were 
entering.  There  had  been  a  division  on  the  Jamaica  question 
and  the  ministers  had  only  a  majority  of  five.  Tlie  leader  of 
the  House  of  Commons  had  intimated,  not  to  say  announced, 
their  consequent  resignation. 

'•  ITave  you  heard  what  they  say  ?"  said  Endymion  anxious- 
ly to  Lady  Montfort. 

'•  Yes,  I  heard  ;  but  do  not  look  so  grave." 

"  Do  I  look  <xrave  ?  " 

''  As  if  it  were  the  last  day." 

"  I  fear  it  is." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure.  I  doubt  whether  Sir  Robert  thinks  it 
ripe  enough  ;  and  after  all,  we  are  not  in  a  minority.  I  do  not 
see  why  we  should  have  resigned.  I  wish  I  could  see  Lord 
Roehami»ton." 

Affairs  did  not  proceed  so  rapidly  as  the  triuniiihant  Zeno- 
bia expected.     They  were  out,  no  question  about  that ;  l)nt  it 


258 


ENDYMION. 


i 


was  not  so  certain  wlio  was  in.  A  day  passed  and  another  day, 
and  even  Zenobia,  who  knew  everything  before  anybody,  re- 
mained in  the  dark.  The  suspense  became  protracted  and 
even  more  mysterious.  Almost  a  week  had  elapsed ;  noble 
lords  and  right  honorable  gentlemen  were  calling  on  Sir  Robert 
every  morning,  according  to  the  newsjiapcrs,  but  no  one  could 
hear  from  any  authority  of  any  ajipointment  being  really  made. 
At  last,  there  was  a  whisper  very  late  one  night  at  Crockford's, 
which  was  always  better  informed  on  these  matters  than  the 
political  clubs,  and  people  looked  ainazcd,  and  stared  incredu- 
lously in  each  others'  face.  But  it  was  true ;  there  was  a 
hitch,  and  in  four-and-twenty  hours  the  cause  of  the  hitch  was 
known.  It  seemed  that  the  ministry  really  had  resigned,  but 
Berengaria,  Countess  of  Montfort,  had  not  followed  their 
example. 

What  a  dangerous  woman  !  even  wicked  !  Zcnobia  was  for 
sending  her  to  the  Tower  at  once.  ''  It  was  clearly  imj^os- 
sible,"  she  declared,  "for  Sir  Robert  to  carry  on  affairs  with 
such  a  Duchesse  de  Longueville  ilways  at  the  car  of  our  young 
Queen,  under  the  pretense  forsoc  fch  of  being  the  friend  of  Her 
Majesty's  youth." 

This  was  the  famous  Bed-Cliambcr  Plot,  in  which  the  Con- 
servative leaders,  as  is  now  generally  admitted,  were  decidedly 
in  error,  and  which  terminated  in  the  return  of  the  Wliijis  to 
office. 

"But  we  must  reconstruct,"  said  Lady  Montfort  to  the 
prime  minister.  "  Sidney  "Wilton  must  be  Secretary  of  State. 
And  you,"  she  said  to  Endymion,  when  she  communicated  to 
him  the  successful  result  of  her  interference,  "you  will  go 
Avitli  him.  It  is  a  great  thing  at  your  age  to  be  private  secre- 
tary to  a  Secretary  of  State." 


MONTFORT  CASTLE. 


259 


lother  day, 
ybody,  re- 
•actcd  and 
led ;  noble 
Sir  Robert 
one  could 
ally  made, 
•ockford's, 
than  the 
1  incredu- 
ere  was  a 
hitch  was 
gned,  but 
ved  their 

ia  was  for 
•ly  imiDos- 
'airs  with 
»ur  young- 
id  of  Iler 

the  Con- 
decidedly 
Whigs  to 

rt  to  the 
of  State, 
icated  to 
I  will  go 
ate  secre- 


CIIAPTER  LIX. 

MoNTFORT  Castle  was  the  stronghold  of  England  against 
the  Scotch  invader.  It  stood  on  a  high  and  vast  table-land, 
with  the  town  of  Montfort  on  one  side  at  its  feet,  and  on  the 
other  a  wide-spreading  and  sylvan  domain,  lierded  with  deer 
of  various  races,  and  terminating  in  pine  forests  ;  beyond  them 
moors  and  mountains.  The  Donjon  Keep,  tall  and  gray,  that 
had  arrested  tlio  Douglas,  still  remained  intact,  and  many  an 
ancient  battlement ;  but  the  long  list  of  the  Lords  of  Montfort 
had  successively  added  to  the  great  structure  according  to  the 
genius  of  the  times,  so  that  still  with  the  external  appearance 
generally  of  a  feudal  castle,  it  combined  in  its  various  courts 
and  quadrangles  all  the  splendor  and  convenience  of  a  modern 
palace. 

But  though  it  had  witnessed  many  scenes  and  sights,  and 
as  strange  ones  as  any  old  walls  in  this  ancient  land,  it  may  be 
doubted  whether  the  keej)  of  Montfort  ever  looked  down  on 
anything  more  rare  than  the  life  that  was  gathering  and  dis- 
porting itself  in  its  towers  and  halls,  and  courts  and  parks,  and 
forest  chase,  in  the  memorable  autumn  of  this  year. 

Bercngaria  had  repaired  to  her  castle  full  of  triumph  ;  her 
lord,  in  high  good  humor,  admiring  his  wife  for  her  energy, 
yet  with  a  playful  malice  apparently  enjoying  the  opportunity 
of  showing  that  the  chronology  of  her  arrangements  was  con- 
fused, and  her  costume  incorrect.  They  had  good-naturedly 
taken  Endymion  down  with  them  ;  for  traveling  to  the  Border 
in  those  times  was  a  serious  affair  foi  a  clerk  in  a  public  office. 
Day  after  day  the  other  guests  arrived  ;  the  rivals  in  the  tour- 
ney were  among  the  earliest,  for  they  had  to  make  themselves 
ac((uainted  with  the  land  which  Avas  to  be  the  scene  of  tlieir 
exploit^..  There  ci  me  the  Knights  of  the  Griffin,  and  the 
Dragon,  and  the  Black  Lion  and  the  Golden  Lion,  and  the 
Dolphin  and  the  Stag's  Head,  and  they  were  all  always  scrupu- 
lously addressed  by  their  chivali'ic  names,  instead  of  by  the 
Tommys  and  the  Jemmys  that  circulated  in  the  affectionate 
circle  of  AVhite's,  or  the  Gusseys  and  the  Regys  of  Belgravian 


'?.  ■ 


-200 


ENDYMIOK 


tea-parties.  After  a  time  duly  appeared  the  Kn'glit  of  the 
\Vhitc  liose,  whose  armor  shielded  the  princely  fcm  of  Flores- 
tan  ;  and  this  portion  of  the  company  was  complete  when  the 
Black  Knight  at  length  reached  the  castle,  who  had  been  de- 
tained by  his  attendance  on  a  conference  at  St.  James',  in  the 
character  of  the  Count  of  Ferroll. 

If  anything  could  add  to  the  delight  and  excitement  of 
Berengaria  it  Avould  seem  to  be  the  arrival  of  the  Count  of 
Ferroll. 

Other  guests  gradually  appeared,  who  Avere  to  sustain  other 
characters  in  the  great  pageant.  There  Avas  the  Judge  of 
Peace,  and  the  Knight  Marshal  of  the  Lists,  and  the  Jester, 
who  AA^as  to  ride  on  a  caparisoned  mule  trapped  AA'itli  bells,  and 
himself  bearing  a  scepter.  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  came  doAvn, 
who  had  promised  to  be  King  of  the  Tournament ;  and,  though 
rather  late,  for  my  lord  had  been  detained  by  the  same  cause 
as  the  Count  of  Ferroll,  at  length  arrived  the  Queen  of  Beauty 
herself. 

If  the  performance,  to  Avhich  all  contiguous  Britain  intend- 
ed to  repair — for  irrespectiA'e  of  the  railroads  Avhicli  noAV  began 
sensibly  to  affect  the  communications  in  the  north  of  England, 
steamers  Avere  chartering  from  every  port  for  passengers  to  the 
Montfort  tournament  Avithin  one  hundred  miles'  distance — 
were  equal  to  the  preparation,  the  affair  must  be  a  great  suc- 
cess. The  grounds  round  the  castle  seemed  to  be  filled  every 
day  with  groups  of  busy  persons  in  fanciful  costume,  all  prac- 
ticing their  duties  and  rehearsing  their  jiarts ;  swordsmen  and 
bowmen,  and  seneschals  and  esquires,  and  grooms  and  pages, 
and  heralds  in  tabards,  and  pursuiA'ants,  and  banner-bearers. 
The  splendid  pavilions  of  the  knights  Averc  noAv  comi^letcd,  and 
the  gorgeous  throne  of  the  Queen  of  Beauty,  surrounded  by 
crimson  galleries,  tier  above  tier,  for  thousands  of  favored 
guests,  Avere  receiving  only  their  last  stroke  of  magnificence. 
The  mornings  passed  in  a  feverish  whirl  of  curiosity,  and 
preparation  and  excitement,  and  some  anxiety.  Then  succeed- 
ed the  banquet,  where  nearly  one  hundred  guests  were  CA^ery 
day  present ;  but  the  company  were  so  absorbed  in  the  im- 
pending event  that  none  expected  or  required,  in  the  CA'cnings, 


f 


TUE  PEIXCE  AND  LADY  ROEHAMPTOX. 


2C1 


jht  of  the 
.  of  Florcs- 
)  when  the 
d  been  de- 
les', in  the 

itement  of 
Connt  of 

stain  other 
Judge  of 
he  Jester, 
bells,  and 
:me  down, 
id,  thongh 
anie  cause 
of  Beauty 

in  intend- 
low  began 
England, 
^ers  to  the 
iistance — 
great  suc- 
lled  every 
,  all  prac- 
smen  and 
nd  pages, 
)r-bcarers. 
leted,  and 
unded  by 
f  favored 
;'nificence. 
isity,  and 
1  succeed- 
'ere  every 
I  the  im- 
evenings, 


any  of  the  usual  schemes  or  sources  of  amusement  that  abound 
in  country  houses.  Comments  on  the  morning,  and  plans  fo;* 
the  morrow,  engrossed  all  thought  and  conversation,  and  my 
lord's  band  was  just  a  due  accompaniment  that  filled  the  pauses, 
when  perplexities  arrested  talk,  or  deftly  blended  with  some 
whispered  phrase  almost  as  sweet  or  thrilling  as  the  notes  of 
the  cornet-a-piston. 

''I  owe  my  knighthood  to  you,"  said  Prince  Florestan  to 
Lady  Iloehampton,  "as  I  do  everything  in  this  country  that 
is  agreeable." 

"You  can  not  be  my  knight,"  replied  Lady  Roehampton,. 
"because  I  am  told  I  am  the  sovereign  of  all  the  chivalry,  but 
you  have  my  best  wishes." 

"All  that  I  want  in  life,"  said  the  prince,  "are  your  good 
wishes." 

"I  fear  they  are  barren." 

"  No,  they  are  inspiring,"  said  the  prince  with  unusual 


feeling. 


"  You  brought  me  good  fortune.    From  the  moment 


I  saw  you,  light  fell  upon  my  life." 

"  Is  not  that  an  exaggerated  phrase  ?  "  said  Lady  Eoehamp- 
ton  with  a  smile,  "because  I  happened  to  get  you  a  ticket  for 
a  masquerade." 

"I  was  thinking  of  something  else,"  said  the  prince  pen- 
sively, "but  life  is  a  masquerade  ;  at  least  mine  has  been." 

"  I  think  yours,  sir,  is  a  most  interesting  life,"  said  Lady 
Roehampton,  "and,  were  I  you,  I  Avould  not  quarrel  with  my 
destiny." 

"  My  destiny  is  not  fulfilled,"  said  the  prince.  "  I  have 
never  quarreled  with  it,  and  am  least  disposed  to  do  so  at  this 
moment." 

"Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  was  speaking  to  me  very  much  the 
other  day  about  your  royal  mother,  sir.  Queen  Agrippina.  She 
must  have  been  fascinating." 

"  I  like  fascinating  women,"  said  the  prince,  "  but  they  are 
rare." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  better  it  should  be  so,"  said  Lady  Roehamp- 
ton, "  for  they  are  apt — arc  they  not  ? — to  disturb  the 
world." 


262 


END  Y MI  OK 


'* I  confess  I  like  to  he  bewitched,"  said  the  prince,  ''and  I 
do  not  care  how  much  the  world  is  disturbed. " 

"  But  is  not  the  world  very  well  as  it  is  ?"  said  Lady  I?oc- 
hampton.     "Why  should  we  not  be  happy  and  enjoy  it  ?" 

*'I  do  enjoy  it,"  replied  Prince  Florestan,  "especially  at 
Montfort  Castle  ;  I  suppose  there  is  something  in  the  air  tliat 
agrees  with  one.  But  enjoyment  of  the  present  is  consistent 
with  objects  for  the  future." 

"Ah  !  now  you  are  thinking  of  your  great  affairs — of  your 
kingdom.     My  woman's  brain  is  not  equal  to  that." 

"I  think  your  brain  is  quite  equal  to  kingdoms,"  said  the 
prince  with  a  serious  expression,  and  speaking  in  even  a  lower 
voice,  "but  I  was  not  thinking  of  my  kingdom.  I  leave 
that  to  fate  ;  1  believe  it  is  destined  to  be  mine,  and  therefore 
occasions  me  thought  but  not  anxiety.  I  was  thinking  ot  some- 
thing else  than  kingdoms,  and  of  which  unhappily  I  am  not  so 
certain — of  which  I  am  most  uncertain — of  Avhicli  I  fear  I 
have  no  chance — and  yet  which  is  dearer  to  me  than  even  my 
crown. " 

"What  can  that  be?  "said  Lady  Roehampton  with  unaf- 
fected wonderment. 

"'Tis  a  secret  of  chivalry."  said  Prince  Florestan,  "and  I 
must  never  disclose  it." 

"It  is  a  wonderful  scene,"  said  Adriana  Neuchatel  to  En- 
dymion,  who  had  been  for  some  time  conversing  with  her.  "  I 
had  no  idea  that  I  should  be  so  much  amused  by  anything  in 
society.    But  then,  it  is  so  unlike  anything  one  has  ever  seen." 

Mrs.  Neuchatcl  had  not  accompanied  her  husband  and  her 
daughter  to  the  Montfort  Tournament.  Mr.  Neuchatel  re- 
quired a  long  holiday,  and  after  the  tournament  he  was  to  take 
Adriana  to  Scotland.  Mrs.  Neuchatel  shut  herself  up  at  Ilai- 
nault,  which  it  seemed  she  had  never  enjoyed  before.  She  could 
hardly  believe  it  was  the  same  place,  freed  from  its  daily  inva- 
sions by  the  House  of  Commons  and  the  Stock  Exchange.  She 
had  never  lived  so  long  without  seeing  an  ambassador  or  a  cab- 
inet minister,  and  it  was  quite  a  relief.  She  wandered  in  the 
gardens,  and  drove  her  pony-chair  in  forest  glades.  She  missed 
Adriana  very  much,  and  for  a  few  days  always  expected  her  to 


EXDYMION  AND  ADRIANA. 


2G3 


CO,  *'and  I 

Lady  T?oc- 

)yit?" 
specially  at 
ho  air  that 
I  consistent 

s — of  your 

,"  said  the 
Tn  a  lower 
I  leave 
i  therefore 
ig  ot  some- 
am  not  so 
1  I  fear  I 
n  even  my 

with  unaf- 

1,  '^and  I 

tel  to  En- 
L  her.  "  I 
ything  in 
ver  seen." 
I  and  her 
chatel  re- 
as  to  take 
ip  at  Ilai- 
She  could 
aily  inva- 
tige.  She 
or  a  cah- 
3d  in  the 
le  missed 
;ed  her  to 


enter  the  room  when  the  door  opened ;  and  then  she  sighed, 
and  then  she  flew  to  her  easel,  or  buried  herself  in  some  sub- 
lime cantata  of  her  favorite  master,  Beethoven.  Then  came 
the  most  wonderful  performance  of  the  whole  day,  and  that 
was  the  letter,  never  missed,  to  Adriana.  Considering  that  ^lic 
lived  in  solitude,  and  in  a  spot  with  which  her  daughter  was 
quite  familiar,  it  was  really  marvelous  that  the  mother  should 
every  day  be  able  to  fill  so  many  interesting  and  impassioned 
pages.  But  Mrs.  Ncuchatel  was  a  fine  pen  woman  ;  her  feel- 
ings were  her  facts,  and  her  ingenious  observations  of  art  and 
nature  were  her  news.  After  the  first  fever  of  separation,  read- 
ing was  always  a  resource  to  her,  for  she  was  a  great  student. 
She  was  surrounded  by  all  the  literary  journals  and  choice  pub- 
lications of  Europe,  and  there  scarocly  was  a  branch  of  science 
and  learning  with  which  she  was  not  sufficiently  familiar  to  be 
able  to  comprehend  the  stir  and  progress  of  the  European 
mind.  Mrs.  Neuchatel  had  contrived  to  get  rid  of  the  chief 
cook  by  sending  him  on  a  visit  to  Paris,  so  she  could,  without 
cavil,  dine  off  a  cutlet  and  seltzer-water  in  her  boudoir.  Some- 
times, not  merely  for  distraction,  but  more  from  a  sense  of 
duty,  she  gave  festivals  to  her  schools,  and  when  she  had  lived 
like  a  princely  prisoner  of  state  alone  for  a  month,  or  rather 
like  one  on  a  desert  isle  who  sighs  to  see  a  sail,  she  would  ask 
a  great  geologist  and  his  wife  to  pay  her  a  visit,  or  some  pro- 
fessor, who,  though  himself  not  worth  a  shilling,  had  some  new 
plans,  which  really  sounded  quite  practical,  for  the  more  equal 
distribution  of  wealth. 

"  And  who  is  your  knight  ?  "  said  Endymion. 

Adriana  looked  distressed. 

"I  mean,  whom  do  you  wish  to  win  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  should  like  them  all  to  win  !  " 

*'  That  is  good-natured,  but  then  there  would  be  no  dis- 
tinction. I  know  who  is  going  to  wear  your  colors — the  Knight 
of  the  Dolphin." 

''I  hope  nothing  of  that  kind  will  happen,"  said  Adriana, 
agitated.  "  I  know  that  some  of  the  knights  are  going  to  wear 
ladies'  colors,  but  I  trust  no  one  will  think  of  wearing  mine. 
I  know  the  Black  Knight  wears  Lady  Montfort's." 


2G4 


FXDVMroy. 


"  He  can  not,"  said  Endymion  luistily.  ''  Slic  is  first  lauy 
to  the  Queen  of  Beauty  ;  no  knight  can  wear  the  colors  of  iho 
Queen.  I  asked  Sir  Morte  d'Arthur  himself,  and  he  told  me 
there  was  no  doubt  about  it,  and  that  he  had  consulted  Garter 
before  he  came  down." 

"  Well,  all  I  know  is  that  the  Count  of  Ferroll  told  mo  so," 
said  Adriana  ;  "  I  sate  next  to  him  at  dinner." 

"  He  shall  not  wear  her  colors,"  said  Endymion  quite  an- 
grily. '*  I  will  npeak  to  the  King  of  the  Tournament  about  it 
dirnctly." 

"  Why,  what  docs  it  signify  ?  "  said  Adriana. 

'*  You  thought  it  signifird  when  I  told  you  Regy  Sutton 
was  going  to  wear  your  colors." 

*''Ali !  that  is  quite  a  different  business,"  said  Adriana  with 
a  sigh. 

Reginald  Sutton  was  a  professed  admirer  of  Adriana,  rode 
with  her  whenever  he  could,  and  danced  with  her  immensely. 
She  gave  him  cold  encouragement,  though  he  was  the  best- 
looking  and  best-dressed  youth  in  England  ;  but  he  was  a 
determined  young  horo,  not  gifted  with  too  sensitive  nerves, 
and  was  a  votary  of  the  great  theory  that  all  in  life  was  an  affair 
of  will,  and  that  endowed  with  sufficient  energy  he  might 
marry  whom  he  liked.  He  accounted  for  his  slow  advance  in 
London  by  the  inimical  presence  of  Mrs.  Neiichatel,  who  he 
felt,  or  fancied,  did  not  sympathize  with  him,  while,  on  the 
contrary,  he  got  on  very  well  with  the  father,  and  so  he  was 
determined  to  seize  the  present  opportunity.  The  mother  was 
absent,  and  he  himself  in  a  commanding  position,  being  one 
of  the  knights  to  whose  exploits  the  eyes  of  all  Eiigland  were 
attracted. 

Lord  Roehampton  was  seated  between  an  ambiis.-adress  and 
Berengaria,  indulging  in  gentle  and  sweet-voiced  raillery  ;  the 
Count  of  Ferroll  was  standing  beside  Lady  Montfort,  and  Mr. 
Wilton  was  opposite  to  the  group.  The  Count  of  Ferroll  rarely 
spoke,  but  listened  to  Lady  Montfort  with  what  she  called  one 
of  his  dark  smiles. 

''All  I  know  is,  she  will  never  pardon  you  for  not  asking 
her,"  said  Lord  Roehampton.     "I  saw  Bicester  the  day  I  left 


MGEVS    VIEWS. 


2U5 


is  first  lauy 
ilors  of  tlio 
le  told  mo 
Ited  Garter 

3ld  me  so," 

I  quite  au- 
nt about  it 


egy  Sutton 

Iriana  with 

riana,  rodo 
immensely. 
13  the  best- 
;  he  was  a 
ive  nerves, 
as  an  affair 
he  might 
advance  in 
;cl,  who  ho 
lile,  on  the 
I  so  he  was 
mother  was 
,  being  one 
^land  were 

sadress  and 
lillery ;  the 
rt,  and  Mr. 
irroU  rarely 
;  called  one 

not  asking 
e  day  I  left 


town,  iind  ho  was  very  grumpy.  lie  said  that  Lady  Bicester 
was  the  only  person  who  understood  tournaments.  8he  had 
studied  the  subject." 

''I  su[)posc  she  wanted  to  bo  the  Queen  of  Beauty,"  said 
Bercngaria. 

^'You  are  too  severe,  my  dear  lady.  I  think  she  would 
have  been  contented  with  a  knight  wearing  her  colors." 

*•  Well,  I  can  not  help  it,"  said  Bercngaria,  but  somewhat 
doubting] y.  And  then,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "She  is  too 
ugly."^ 

"Why,  she  came  to  iry  fancy  ball,  and  it  is  not  five  years 
ago,  as  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots  ! " 

"That  must  have  been  after  the  Queen's  decapitation,'* 
said  Bercngaria. 

"I  wonder  you  did  not  ask  Zcnobia,"  said  ^Vlr.  Wilton. 

"  Of  course  I  asked  her,  bat  I  knew  she  would  not  come. 
She  is  in  one  of  her  hatreds  now.  She  said  she  would  have 
come,  only  she  had  half  promised  to  give  a  ball  to  the  tenants 
at  Merrington  about  that  time,  and  she  did  not  like  to  disap- 
point them.     Quite  touching,  was  it  not  ?  " 

"A  touch  beyond  the  reach  of  art,"  said  Mr.  Wilton  ;  "al- 
most worthy  of  yourself,  Lady  Montfort." 

"And  what  do  you  think  of  all  this  ?  "  asked  Lord  Mont- 
fort of  Nigel  Penruddock,  who,  in  a  cassock  tliat  swept  the 
ground,  had  been  stalking  about  the  glittering  saloons  like  a 
prophet  who  had  been  ordained  in  May  Fair,  but  who  had  now 
seated  himself  by  his  host. 

"I  am  thinking  of  what  is  beneath  all  this,"  replied  Nigel. 
"  A  great  revivification.  Chivalry  is  the  child  of  the  Church  ; 
it  is  the  distinctive  feature  of  Christian  Europe.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  revival  of  Church  principles,  tliis  glorious  pageant 
would  never  have  occurred.  But  it  is  a  pageant  only  to  the 
uninitiated.  There  is  not  a  ceremony,  a  form,  a  phrase,  a 
costume,  which  is  not  symbolic  of  a  great  truth  or  a  high  pur- 
pose." 

''I  do  not  think  Lady  Montfort  is  aware  of  all  this,"  said 
her  lord. 

"  Oh,  yes  ! "  said  Nigel.    "  Lady  Montfort  is  a  great  woman 

12 


•m 


2C0 


EXDYMIOX 


— a  woman  who  could  inspire  crusades  and  create  cliurches. 
She  might,  and  she  Avill,  I  trust,  rank  with  the  Ilclena-  and 
tlie  Matildas." 

Lord  Montfort  gave  a  little  sound,  but  so  gentle  that  il  wa;* 
heard  ]n-ol)al)ly  but  by  himself,  which  in  common  hmgungo 
would  be  styled  a  whistle — an  articulate  modulation  of  the 
breath  which  in  this  instance  expressed  a  sly  sentiment  of  hu- 
morous amazement. 

''  Well,  Mr.  Ferrars,"  said  Mr.  Xeuchatel,  with  a  lau;iliiufr 
eye,  to  that  young  gentleman,  as  he  encountered  Endymion 
passing  by,  '*and  how  are  j'ou  getting  on  ?  Are  we  to  see  you 
to-morrow  in  a  Milanese  suit  ?  " 

"  I  am  only  a  page,"  said  Endymion. 

*' "Well,  well,  the  old  Italian  saying  is,  'A  page  beats  a 
knight,'  at  least  with  the  ladies." 

''Do  not  you  think  it  very  absurd,"  said  Endymion,  ''that 
the  Count  of  Ferroll  sa3"s  he  shall  wear  Lady  Montfort's  colors  ? 
Lady  Montfort  is  only  the  first  lady  of  the  Queen  of  Beauty, 
and  she  can  wear  no  colors  except  the  Queen's.  Do  not  you 
think  somebody  ought  to  interfere  ?" 

"Hem  !  The  Count  of  Ferroll  is  a  man  who  seldom  makes 
a  mistake,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel. 

"  So  everybody  says,"  said  Endymion,  rather  testily  ;  "'  but 
I  do  not  sec  that." 

"Now,  you  are  a  very  young  man,"  said  Mr.  Xeuchatel, 
"and  I  hope  you  will  some  day  be  a  statesman.  I  do  not  see 
why  you  should  not,  if  you  are  industrious  and  stick  to  your 
master,  for  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  is  a  man  who  will  always  rise  ; 
but,  if  I  were  you,  I  Avould  keep  my  eyes  very  much  on  the 
Count  of  Ferroll,  for,  depend  on  it,  he  is  one  of  tliose  men  who 
sooner  or  later  will  make  a  noise  in  the  world." 

Adriana  came  up  at  this  moment,  leaning  on  the  arm  of 
the  Knight  of  the  Dolphin,  better  known  as  Regy  Sutton, 
They  came  from  the  tea-room.  Endymion  moved  away  with  a 
cloud  on  his  brow,  murmuring  to  himself,  "I  am  quite  sick  of 
the  name  of  the  Count  of  Ferroll." 

The  jousting-ground  was  about  a  mile  from  the  castle,  and 
though  it  was  nearly  encircled  by  vast  and  lofty  galleries,  it 


Imrclies. 
;nas  and 

at  it  was 
language 
II  of  tlie 
t  of  liu- 

laugliiug 
nclymion 
3  SCO  you 


!  beats  a 

111,  'Hliat 

's  colors  ? 

'  Beauty, 

not  3'ou 

)ni  makes 


y 


but 


'cucliatel, 
lo  not  see 
z  to  your 
\ays  rise  ; 
'h  on  the 
men  who 

10  arm  of 
f  Sutton, 
\ay  with  a 
ite  sick  of 

astle,  and 
alleries,  it 


. 


.•w 


I 
If 


n 


77//;  PROCESS  10 \. 


267 


was  impossible  that  accommodation  could  be  atTordcd  on  this 
spot  to  the  thousands  who  had  repaired  from  many  parts  of  tho 
kingdom  to  tlio  Moutfort  Tournament.  But  even  a  liundred 
thousand  people  could  witness  the  procession  from  the  castlo 
to  tho  scene  of  action.  That  was  superb.  The  sun  shone,  and 
not  one  of  the  breatlilcss  multitude  was  disappoi?;ted. 

Tliere  came  a  long  line  of  men-at-arms  and  musicians  and 
trum})cters  and  banner-bearers  of  the  Lord  of  the  Tournament, 
and  heralds  in  tabards,  and  pursuivants,  and  then  the  Herald 
of  the  Tournament  by  himself,  whom  the  people  at  first  mis- 
took for  tho  Lord  Mayor. 

Tlicn  came  the  Knight  ^Earshal  on  a  caparisoned  .steed, 
himself  in  a  suit  of  gilt  armor,  and  in  a  richly  embroidered 
surcoat.  A  band  of  luilberdiers  preceded  the  King  of  the 
Tournament,  also  on  a  steed  richly  ca})arisaned,  and  himself 
clad  in  robes  of  velvet  and  ermine,  and  wearing  a  golden 
crown. 

Then  on  a  barded  Arab,  herself  dressed  in  cloth  of  gold, 
parti-colored  with  violet  and  crimson,  came,  amid  tremendous 
cheering,  tho  Queen  of  Beauty  herself.  Twelve  attendants 
bore  aloft  a  silken  canopy,  which  did  not  conceal  from  tlio 
enraptured  multitude  the  luster  of  her  matchless  loveliness. 
Lady  Moutfort,  Adriana,  and  four  other  attendant  ladies,  fol- 
lowed her  majesty,  two  by  two,  each  in  gorgeous  attire,  and  on 
a  charger  that  vied  in  splendor  with  its  mistress.  Six  pages 
followed  next,  in  violet  and  silver. 

Tho  bells  of  a  barded  mule  announced  tho  Jester,  who  Avaved 
his  scepter  with  unceasing  authority,  and  i)olted  the  people  Avith 
admirably  prepared  impromptus.  Some  in  the  crowd  tried  to 
enter  into  a  compcLHion  of  banter,  but  they  were  always  van- 
quished. 

Soon  a  largo  company  of  men-at-arms  and  the  sounds  of 
most  triumphant  music  stopped  the  general  laughter,  and  all 
became  again  hushed  in  curious  suspense.  The  tallest  and  the 
stoutest  of  the  Border  men  bore  tho  gonfalon  of  the  Lord  of 
the  Tournament.  That  should  have  been  Lord  Moutfort  him- 
self ;  but  ho  had  deputed  the  office  to  his  cousin  and  presump- 
tive heir.     Lord  Moutfort  was  Avell  represented,  and  the  peo- 


2C8 


FyDYMIOX 


l)le  cheered  his  cousin  Odo  licartily,  us  in  liis  suit  of  golden  armor 
richly  chased,  and  bending  on  his  steed,  cajiarisoncd  in  blue 
and  gold,  he  acknowledged  their  fealty  with  a  proud  reverence. 
The  other  knights  followed  in  order,  all  attended  by  their 
esquires  and  their  grooms.  Each  knight  was  greatly  applauded, 
and  it  was  really  a  grand  sight  to  see  them  on  their  barded 
chargers  and  in  their  pano]dy  ;  some  in  suits  of  engraved  Mi- 
lanese armor,  some  in  German  suits  of  fluted  polished  steel  ; 
some  in  steel  armor  engraved  and  inlaid  with  gold.  The  Black 
Knight  was  much  cheered,  but  no  one  commanded  mc>re  ad- 
miration than  Prince  Florestan,  in  a  suit  of  blue  damascened 
armor,  and  inlaid  with  silver  roses. 

Every  procession  must  end.  It  is  a  pity,  for  there  is  no- 
thing so  popular  with  mankind.  The  splendid  part  of  the 
pageant  had  passed,  but  fetill  the  people  gazed  and  looked  as  if 
they  would  have  gazed  for  ever.  The  visitors  at  the  castle,  all 
in  ancient  costume,  attracted  much  notice.  Companies  of 
swordsmen  and  bowmen  followed,  till  at  last  the  seneschal  of 
the  castle,  with  his  chamberlains  and  servitors,  closed  the  spell- 
bound scene. 


ttw 


CHAPTER  LX. 

The  jousting  was  very  successful  ;  though  some  were  neces- 
sarily discomfited,  almost  every  one  contrived  to  obtain  some 
distinction.  But  the  two  knights  who  excelled  and  vancpiished 
every  one  except  themselvrs  were  the  Black  Knight,  and  the 
Knight  of  the  White  'Rosv.  Their  exploits  were  e(iual  at  the 
close  of  the  first  day,  and  on  the  second  they  were  to  contend  for 
the  principal  ju'ize  of  the  tournament,  tor  which  none  else  were 
entitled  to  be  competitors.  This  was  a  golden  helm,  to  bo 
placed  upon  the  victor's  brow  by  the  Queen  of  Beauty. 

There  was  both  a  banquet  and  a  ball  on  this  day,  and  the 
excitement  between  the  Jidventurcs  of  the  morning  and  the 
pros])ects  of  the  morrow  was  great.  The  Vnights,  freed  from 
their  ari^or,  appeared  in  fanciful  dresses  of  many-colored  vel- 


j:m)  )  Ml  OS  '.V  (;!.  oomimjs.'^. 


2»;o 


vet.-'.  All  Avho  luul  taken  part  i;i  the  piigeaiit  retained  tlieir 
costumes,  and  the  ordinary  gnests,  if  tliey  yielded  to  mediteviil 
splendor,  suf^ccssfully  asserted  the  taste  of  Riris  and  its  spark- 
ling grace,  in  their  exquisite  rol)es,  and  wreaths  and  garlands 
of  fantastic  loveliness. 

Berengaria,  full  of  the  ins})lration  of  success,  received  the 
smiling  congratulations  of  everybody,  and  repaid  them  with 
happy  suggestions,  which  she  poured  forth  with  inexhaustible 
yet  graceful  energy.  The  only  i)erson  who  had  a  gloomy  air 
wasEndymion.  She  rallied  him.  '•!  shall  call  you  the  Knight 
of  the  AVoful  Countenance  if  you  approach  me  with  such  a 
visage.     What  can  be  the  matter  with  you  ?" 

"Nothing,"  said  Endymion,  in  a  tone  of  sullen  misery. 

'''  There  is  something.  I  know  your  countenance  too  well 
to  be  deceived.     AVhat  is  the  matter  ? " 

''Nothing,"  repeated  Endymion,  looking  rather  away. 

The  Knight  of  the  Dolphin  came  up  and  said,  "This  is  a 
critical  affair  to-morrow,  my  dear  Lady  Montfort.  If  the 
Count  of  Ferroll  is  discomfited  by  the  prince  it  may  jc  a  casus 
MIL  You  ought  to  get  Lord  lioehami^ton  to  interfere  and 
prevent  the  encounter." 

"The  Count  of  Ferroll  will  not  be  discomfited,"  said  Lady 
Montfort.     "He  is  one  of  those  men  Avho  never  fail." 

"Well,  I  do  not  know,"  said  the  Knight  of  the  Dolphin 
musingly.     "The  prince  has  a  stout  lance,  and  I  have  felt  it." 

"He  had  the  best  of  it  this  morning,"  said  Endymion 
rather  bitterly.  "  Every  one  thought  so,  and  Ihat  it  was  very 
fortunate  for  the  Count  of  Ferroll  that  the  heralds  closed  the 
lists." 

"It  might  have  been  fortunate  for  others,"  rejoined  Lady 
Montfort.  "What  is  the  general  oi)inion  ?"  she  added,  ad- 
dressing the  Kniglit  of  the  Dolphin.  "  Do  not  go  away,  ^Ir. 
Ferrars.     I  want  to  give  you  some  directions  about  to-morroAv." 

"I  do  not  think  I  shall  be  at  the  place  to-morrow,"  mut- 
tered Endymion. 

"What !"  exchiimed  Berengaria  ;  but  at  this  moment  ]\Ir. 
Sidney  Wilton  came  up  and  said,  "  I  have  been  looking  at  the 
golden  helm.     It  is  intrusted  to  my  care  as  King  v.f  the  Tour- 


270 


EXL  YMIOX. 


namcnt.  It  is  really  so  beautiful,  that  I  tliiiik  I  shall  usui;) 
it." 

"You  will  have  to  settle  that  with  the  Count  of  Ferroll," 
said  Berengaria. 

"The  betting  is  about  equal,"  said  the  Knight  of  the  Dol- 
phin. 

"Well;  we  must  have  some  gloves  \\\)0\\  it,"  said  Berengaria. 

Endjmion  walked  away. 

He  walked  away,  and  the  first  i)crsons  that  met  his  eye  Avere 
the  prince  and  the  Count  of  Ferroll  in  conversation.  It  was 
sickening.  They  seemed  (|uitc  gay,  and  occasionally  examined 
together  a  paper  which  the  prince  held  in  his  hand,  and  which 
was  an  official  report  Ijy  the  heralds  of  the  day's  jousting. 
This  friendly  conversation  might  have  gone  on  for  ever  had  not 
the  music  ceased  and  ilie  count  been  obliged  to  seek  his  partner 
for  the  coming  dance. 

"I  Avonder  you  can  speak  to  him,"  said  Endymion,  going 
up  to  the  prince.  '•  If  the  heralds  had  not — many  think,  too 
hastily — closed  the  lists  this  morning,  you  would  have  been 
the  victor  of  the  day."  ' 

"My  dear  child  !  Avhat  can  you  mean  ?"  said  the  prince. 
"I  belicA'C  CA'crything  Avas  closed  quite  properly,  and,  as  for 
myself,  I  am  entirely  satisfied  with  my  share  of  the  day's  suc- 


cess. 


J) 


"If  you  had  thrown  him,"  said  Endymion,  "he  could  not 
Avith  decency  have  contended  for  the  golden  helm." 

"Oh  !  that  is  Avhat  you  deplore,"  said  the  prince.  "The 
Count  of  Ferroll  and  I  shall  have  to  contend  for  many  things 
more  precious  than  golden  helms  before  a\'C  die." 

"I  belicA'c  he  is  a  A'cry  OA'crrated  man,"  said  Endymion. 

"  Why  ?  "  said  the  prince. 

"I  detest  him,"  said  Endymion. 

"Tiiat  is  certainly  a  reason  Avhy  you  should  not  overrate 
him,"  said  the  prince. 

"There  seems  a  general  conspiracy  to  run  him  up,"  said 
Endymion  Avith  pi([ue. 

"Tlie  Count  of  Ferroll  is  the  man  of  tlie  future,"  said  the 
prince  calmly. 


MORTIFICATION. 


L>71 


*'  That  is  wliat  Mr.  Neucluitcl  said  to  inc  yesterday.  I  sup- 
pose lie  cauglit  it  from  you." 

'•'It  is  an  advantage,  a  great  advantage,  for  me  to  observe 
the  Count  of  Ferroll  in  this  intimate  society,"  said  tlie  prince 
speaking  slowly,  ''perhaps  even  to  fathom  him.  But  I  am  not 
come  to  that  yet.  He  is  a  man  neither  to  love  nor  to  detest. 
He  has  himself  an  intelligence  superior  to  all  passion,  I  might 
say  all  feeling  ;  and  if,  in  dealing  with  such  a  being,  we  our- 
selves have  either,  we  give  him  an  advantage." 

"Well,  all  the  same  I  hope  you  will  win  tlie  golden  helm 
to-morroAv,"  said  Endymion  looking  a  little  perplexed. 

"The  golden  casfpie  that  I  am  ordained  to  win,"  said  the 
prince,  "  is  not  at  Montfort  castle.  This,  after  all,  is  but 
Mambrino's  helmet." 

A  knot  of  young  dandies  were  discussing  the  chances  of  the 
morrow  as  Endymion  was  passing  by,  and  as  he  knew  most  of 
them  he  joined  the  group. 

"  I  hope  to  heaven,"  said  one,  "  that  the  Count  of  Ferroll 
will  beat  that  foreign  chap  to-morrow  ;  I  hate  foreigners." 

"So  do  T,"  said  a  second,  and  there  was  a  general  murmur 
of  assent. 

'•'The  Count  of  Ferroll  is  as  much  a  foreigner  as  the 
prince,"  said  Endymion  rather  sharply. 

"Oh!  I  don't  call  him  a  foreigner  at  all,"  said  the  first 
speaker.  "lie  is  a  great  favorite  at  White's ;  no  one  rides 
cross  country  like  him,  and  he  is  a  deuced  fine  shot  in  the  bar- 
gain." 

'•I  will  back  Prince  Florostan  against  him  either  in  field  or 
cover,"  said  Endvniion. 

"Well,  I  don't  know  your  friend,"  said  the  young  gentle- 
man contemptuously,  "  so  I  can  not  bet." 

"  I  am  sure  your  friend,  Ltidy  Montfort,  my  dear  Dymy, 
will  back  tlio  Count  of  Ferroll,"  lisped  a  third  young  gentle- 
man. 

This  completed  the  programme  of  mortification,  and  En- 
dymion hot,  and  tlien  cold,  and  then  both  at  the  same  time, 
bereft  of  repartee,  and  wishing  the  earth  would  open  and 
Montfort  Castle  disappear  in  its  convul::ed  bosom,  stole  sik-ntly 


272 


ENDYMION. 


I 


away  as  soon  as  i)raetical)le,  and  wandered  as  far  as  possible 
from  the  music  and  the  ])ursts  of  revelry. 

These  conversations  had  taken  place  in  the  chief  saloon, 
■which  was  contiguous  to  the  ball-room  and  which  was  nearly 
as  full  of  guests.  Endymion,  moving  in  the  ojiposite  direction, 
entered  another  drawing-room,  where  the  population  was 
t^parse.  It  consisted  of  couples  apparently  deeply  interested  in 
each  other.  Some  faces  were  radiant,  and  some  pensive,  and 
II  little  agitated,  but  they  all  agreed  in  one  expression,  that 
they  took  no  interest  whatever  in  the  solitary  Endymion. 
Even  thr'r  whisjiered  Avords  Avcre  hushed  as  he  passed  by,  and 
they  ZQC\  ^d,  with  their  stony,  unsympathizing  glance,  to  look 
upon  hin  is  upon  some  inferior  being  who  had  intruded  into 
their  part.  lise.  In  short,  Endymion  felt  all  th  .  embarrass- 
ment, mingled  with  a  certain  portion  of  self-contempt,  which 
attends  the  conviction  that  we  are  Avhat  is  delicately  called  de 
trop. 

lie  advanced  and  took  rcfuo-c  in  another  room,  Avhcro  there 
•was  only  a  single  and  still  more  engrossed  pair  ;  but  this  was 
even  more  intoler  ^  to  him.  Shrinking  from  a  return  to  the 
hostile  chamber  he  had  just  left,  he  made  a  frantic  rush  for- 
ward with  affected  case  and  alacrity,  and  found  himself  alone 
in  the  favorite  morning  room  of  Lady  Montfort. 

lie  threw  himself  on  a  sofa  and  hid  his  face  in  his  hand, 
and  gave  a  sigh,  which  w\as  almost  a  groan.  lie  was  sick  at 
lieart ;  his  extremities  were  cold,  his  brain  was  feeble.  Ail  hope, 
and  truly  all  thought  of  the  future,  deserted  him.  He  "^mem- 
hercd  only  the  sorrowful,  or  the  humiliating,  chapters  in  nis  life. 
He  wished  he  had  never  left  llurstley.  He  wished  he  had  been 
a]iprenticed  to  Farmer  Thornl}crry  ;  that  he  had  never  quitted 
his  desk  at  Somerset  Mouse  ;  and  never  known  more  of  life  tlian 
Joe's  and  the  divan.  All  was  vanity  and  vc.;ation  of  sjiirit.  lie 
contemplated  finishing  his  days  in  the  neighboring  stream,  in 
which,  but  a  few  days  ago,  he  was  bathing  in  health  and  joy. 

Time  flew  on  ;  he  was  unconscious  of  it?  course  ;  no  one  en- 
tered the  room,  and  he  Avishcd  never  to  see  a  human  face  again, 
when  a  \o\r"}  sound<  I  iiiit'  he  Iicard  his  name. 

'*Endvm.ji,>,  1" 


>J 


t 


DESPAIR. 


2  7;  J 


\   % 


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t 


lie  looked  up  ;  it  was  Lady  Montfort.  He  did  not  speak, 
but  gave  lier,  perliaps  luiconyeioiisiy,  a  glance  of  reproach  and 
despair. 

"  AVliat  i.s  the  matter  with  you  ?"  she  said. 

*' Nothing." 

'•That  is  nonsense.  Sometliing  must  liave  luippened.  1 
have  missed  you  so  long,  but  was  determined  to  fnd  you.  Have 
you  a  headache  ?  " 

''No." 

*'  Come  back  ;  come  back  with  me.  It  is  50  odd.  My  lord 
has  asked  for  you  twice." 

"  I  want  to  see  no  one ." 

"  Oh  !  but  this  is  absurd — and  on  a  day  like  this,  Avhen  every- 
thing has  been  so  successful  and  every  one  Ls  so  happy." 

"  I  am  not  happy,  and  I  am  not  successful." 

"  You  perfectly  "  tonisli  me,"  said  Lady  Montfort.  "  I  shall 
begin  to  believe  li  «  you  have  not  so  sweet  a  temperas  I  always 
supposed. " 

"It  matters  not  what  my  temper  is." 

"I  think  it  matters  a  great  deal.  I  like,  above  all  things, 
to  live  with  good-tempered  people." 

"  I  hope  you  may  not  be  disappointed.  My  temper  is  my 
own  affair,  and  I  am  content  alwavs  to  be  alone. " 

"Why  !  you  are  talking  nonsense,  Endymion," 

"  Probably  ;  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  gifted.  I  am  not  one 
of  those  gentlemen  who  can  not  fail.  I  am  not  a  man  of  the 
future." 

''  Well !  I  never  was  so  surprised  in  my  life,"  exclaimed 
Lr.dy  Montfort.  "  I  never  will  pretend  to  form  an  opinion  of 
Imriian  character  again.  Now,  my  dear  Endymion,  rouse  your- 
self, and  come  back  with  me.  Give  me  your  arm.  I  can  not 
stay  another  moment ;  I  dare  say  I  have  already  been  wanted 
a  thousand  times." 

"  I  can  not  go  back,"  said  Endymion  ;  "  I  never  wish  to  see 
anybody  again.  If  you  Avant  an  arm,  there  is  the  Count  of  Fer- 
roll,  and  I  hope  you  may  find  he  has  a  sweeter  temper  than  I 
have." 

Lady  Montfort  looked  at  him  with  a  strange  and  startled 


274 


EXDYMIOX. 


glance.  It  was  a  mixture  of  surprise,  a  little  disdain,  some  af- 
fection blended  witli  mockery.  And  then  exclaiming  '•'  Silly 
boy  ! "  she  swept  out  of  the  room. 


CHAPTER   LXI. 

''  I  DO  not  like  the  i)rospcct  of  affairs,"  said  Mr.  Sidney 
Wilton  to  Endymion  as  they  were  posting  up  to  London  from 
Montfort  Castle  ;  a  long  Journey,  but  softened  in  those  days 
by  many  luxuries,  and  they  had  much  to  talk  about. 

''The  decline  of  the  revenue  is  not  fitful;  it  is  regular. 
Our  people  are  too  apt  to  look  at  the  state  of  the  revenue  merely 
in  a  financial  point  of  view.  If  a  surplus,  take  off  taxes  ;  if  a 
deficiency,  ptit  them  on.  But  the  state  of  the  revenue  shotild 
also  be  considered  as  the  index  of  the  condition  of  the  popitla- 
tion.  According  to  my  impression,  the  condition  of  the  peo- 
l^le  is  declining  ;  and  why  ?  because  they  are  less  employed.  If 
this  spreads,  they  will  l.'ccome  discontented  and  disaffected, 
and  I  c^n  not  help  remembering  that,  if  they  become  trouble- 
some, it  is  our  ofiice  that  will  have  to  deal  with  them." 

"  This  bad  harvest  is  a  great  misfortune,"  said  Endvmion. 

''Yes;  but  a  bad  harvosi,  though  unquestionably  a  great, 
perhaps  the  greatest  misfortune  for  this  country,  is  not  the 
entire  solution  of  our  difilcttltics — I  wotild  say,  our  coming  dif- 
ficulties. A  bad  harvest  touches  the  whole  of  otir  commercial 
system :  it  brings  us  face  to  face  with  the  corn  laws.  I  wish 
our  chief  would  give  his  mind  to  that  stibject.  I  believe  a 
moderate  fixed  duty  of  about  twelve  shillings  a  quarter  would 
satisfy  every  one,  and  nothing  then  could  shake  this  country." 

Endymion  listened  Avith  interest  to  other  views  of  his  mas- 
ter, who  descanted  on  them  at  much  length.  Private  secre- 
taries know  everything  about  tlieii"  chiefs,  and  Endymion  Avas 
not  ignorant  that  among  many  of  the  great  houses  of  the  AYliig 
party,  and  indeed  among  the  btilkof  what  was  called  "  the  Lib- 
eral" parly  generally,  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  was  looked  upon,  so 
far  as  ecinomical  questions  were  concerned,  as  very  crotchety^ 


%^ 


END  YMF  ox  AXD  HIS  CHIEF. 


275 


indeed  a  dangerous  character.  Lord  jSIontfort  was  the  only 
magnate  who  was  entirely  opposed  to  the  corn  laws,  but  then, 
as  Berengaria  would  remark,  '^  Simon  is  against  all  laws ;  he  is 
not  a  practical  man." 

Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  reverted  to  these  views  more  lliau  once 
in  the  course  of  their  journe\'.  **I  was  not  alarmed  about  the 
Chartists  last  year.  Political  trouble  in  this  country  never 
frightens  me.  Insurrections  and  riots  strengthen  an  English 
government ;  they  gave  a  new  lease  even  to  Lord  Liverpool 
when  his  ministry  was  most  feeble  and  unpopular ;  but  eco- 
nomical discontent  is  (juitc  imother  thing.  The  monu'ut  sedi- 
tion arises  from  taxation,  or  Avant  of  eni})loyment,  it  is  more 
dangerous  and  more  difficult  to  deal  with  in  thi.-'  country  than 
any  other." 

"  Lord  Koehampton  seemed  to  take  rather  a  sanguine  view 
of  the  situation  after  the  Bed-Chaniber  business  in  the  spring," 
observed  Endymion,  rather  in  an  inquiring  thar.  a  dogmatic 
spirit. 

"Lord  Iioehampton  has  other  things  to  think  of,"  said 
Islv.  Wilton.  ''lie  is  absorbed,  and  naturally  absorbed,  in  his 
department,  the  most  important  in  the  state,  and  of  whiclj  lie 
is  master.  But  I  am  obliged  to  look  at  alfairs  nearer  honto. 
Now,  this  Anti-Corn-Law  League,  Avhich  they  established  last 
year  at  ^Manchester,  and  which  begins  to  lx>  very  busy,  though 
nobody  at  present  talks  of  it,  is  in  my  tuind  a  movement  which 
ought  to  be  watched.  I  tell  you  what  ;  it  occurred  to  me  more 
than  once  during  that  wondrous  pageant,  that  we  have  just 
now  been  taking  part  in  ;  the  governmert  wants  better  infor- 
mation than  they  have  as  to  the  state  and  the  country ;  the 
real  feelings  and  condition  of  the  bulk  of  the  popuhition.  We 
Used  to  sneer  at  the  Tories  for  their  ignorance  of  these  matters, 
but  after  all,  we,  like  them,  are  mainly  dependent  on  quarter 
sessions  ;  on  the  judgment  of  a  lord-lieutenant  and  the  statis- 
tics of  a  bench  of  magistrates.  It  is  true  avc  have  introduced 
into  our  subordinate  administration  at  Whitehall  some  persons 
who  have  obtained  the  reputation  of  distinguished  economists, 
and  we  allow  them  to  guide  us.  But  though  ingenious  men, 
no  doubt,  they  are  chiefly  bankrupt  tradesmen,  who,  not  hav- 


27G 


EXDYMIOy. 


ing  been  able  to  maniige  tlieir  own  affairs,  have  taken  upon 
tliemselves  to  advise  on  tlie  conduct  of  the  country — pedants 
and  prigs  at  tlie  best,  and  sometimes  impostors.  No ;  tliis 
won't  do.  It  is  useless  to  speak  to  the  chief  ;  I  did  about  the 
Anti-Corn-Law  League  ;  lie  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  said 
it  was  a  madness  that  would  pass.  I  have  made  up  my  mind 
to  send  somebody,  quite  privately,  to  the  great  scenes  of  na- 
tional labor.  He  must  be  somebody  whom  nobody  knows,  and 
nobody  suspects  of  being  connected  with  the  administration, 
or  we  shall  never  get  the  truth— and  the  person  I  have  fixed 
upon  is  yourself." 

*'  But  am  I  equal  to  such  a  task  ?"  said  Endymion  modest- 
ly, but  sincerely. 

"I  think  so,"  said  Mr.  Wilton,  *'or,  of  course,  I  would  not 
have  fixed  upon  you.  I  want  a  fresh  and  virgin  intelligence  to 
observe  and  consider  tho  country.  It  must  be  a  mind  free 
from  prejudice,  yet  fairly  informed  on  the  great  questions  in- 
volved in  tlie  wealth  of  nations.  I  know  you  have  read  Adam 
Smith,  and  not  lightly.  Well,  he  is  the  best  guide,  though  of 
course  we  must  adapt  his  principles  to  the  circumstances  with 
w'ljch  we  iiavc  to  deal.  You  have  good  judgment,  great  in- 
dustry, a  fairly  quick  perception,  little  passion — perhaps  hard- 
ly encnigli  ;  but  tliat  is  probably  the  consequence  of  the  sor- 
rows and  troubles  of  early  life.  But  after  all,  there  is  no  edu- 
cation like  adversit}'." 

''If  it  will  only  cease  at  the  right  time,"  said  Endymion. 

"  Well,  ill  that  respect,  I  do  not  think  you  have  anything 
to  compliiin  of,"  said  Mr.  Wilton.  **The  world  is  all  before 
you,  and  I  mistake  if  you  do  not  rise.  Perseverance  and  tact 
arc  the  two  qu;dities  most  valuable  for  all  men  Avho  would 
mount,  l)ut  especially  for  those  who  have  to  step  out  of  the 
pl'owd.  T  am  sure  no  one  can  say  you  are  not  assiduous,  but  I 
\\\\\  lllllil  Ulways  to  observe  that  you  have  tact.  Without  tact 
ytltl  t;an  learn  nothing.  Tact  teaches  you  when  to  be  silent. 
Inquirers  who  are  always  inquiring  never  learn  anything." 


i 

I 

I 


f? 


THE  AXTI-COEX'LAW  LEAGUE. 


277 


i 


CIIAPTEU   LXir. 

Lancashire  was  not  so  Avondcrful  a  i)laco  forty  j'cars  ago 
as  it  is  at  present,  but,  compared  then  witli  tlio  rest  of  Eng- 
land, it  -was  inlinitcly  more  striking.  For  a  youtli  like  En- 
dymion,  l)orn  and  bred  in  our  southern  counties,  the  Berk- 
f-liirc  downs  varied  by  tlic  b  istle  of  Pail-Mall  and  the  Strand — 
Lancashire  with  ilH  l(M'niing  inid  toiling  cities,  its  colossal 
niiinurilelories  and  its  gigantic  chimneys,  its  roaring  engincij 
and  its  flaming  furnaces,  its  tramroads  and  its  railroads,  its 
coal  and  its  cotton,  offered  a  far  greater  contrast  to  tho  econea 
in  which  he  had  hitherto  lived,  than  could  bo  furnished  by 
almost  any  country  of  the  European  continent 

Endymion  felt  it  was  rather  a  crisis  in  his  life,  and  that  his 
future  might  much  depend  on  the  fulfillment  of  the  confiden- 
tial office  Avhich  had  been  intrusted  to  him  by  his  chief.  IIo 
cummoncd  all  his  energies,  concentrated  his  intelligence  on  the 
one  subject,  and  devoted  to  its  study  and  comprehension  every 
moment  of  his  thought  and  time.  After  a  Avhile,  ho  had  mado 
jManchestcr  liis  headquarters.  It  was  even  then  the  center  of 
a  network  of  railways,  and  gave  him  an  easy  command  of  tho 
contiguous  districts. 

Endymion  had  more  than  once  inquired  after  the  Anti- 
Corn-Law  League,  but  had  not  as  yet  been  so  fortunate  as  to 
attend  any  of  their  meetings.  They  were  rarer  then  than  they 
afterward  soon  became,  and  the  great  manufacturers  did  not 
encourage  them.  '"  I  do  not  like  extreme  views,"  said  one  of 
the  most  eminent  one  day  to  Endymion.  *'  Fn  my  opinion  wo 
should  always  avoid  extremes;"  and  ho  paused  and  looked 
around,  as  if  he  had  enunciated  a  heaven-born  truth,  and  for 
the  first  time.  "I  am  >,i  liberal;  so  wo  nil  are  here.  I  sup- 
ported Lord  Grey,  and  I  »^ii])port  Lord  ]\relbourne,  and  I  am, 
in  everything,  for  a  liberal  ])olicy.  I  don't  like  extremes.  A 
wise  minister  should  take  off  the  duty  on  cotton  wool.  That 
is  what  the  country  really  wants,  and  then  everybody  would  i)e 
satisfied.  No  ;  I  know  nothing  aI)out  this  league  you  ask 
about,  and  I  do  not  know  any  one — that  is  to  say,  any  one  re- 


278 


END  YM ION'. 


spccttiblo — wlio  d(X -.  Tlicy  camo  to  mo  lo  lend  my  name. 
No,  I  said,  gentlemen  ;  I  feel  much  honored,  hut  I  do  not  like 
extremes  ;  and  they  went  away.  They  art  making  a  little 
more  noise  now,  because  they  have  got  a  man  who  has  the  gift 
of  tlie  ^-ab,  and  the  people  like  to  go  and  hear  liim  speak.  But 
as  I  said  to  a  friend  of  mine,  who  seemed  half  inclined  to  join 
them,  'Well;  if  I  did  anything  of  that  sort,  I  would  be  led 
by  a  Lancashire  lad.'  They  have  got  a  foreigner  to  lead  them, 
a  fellow  out  of  Berkshire  ;  an  agitator— and  only  a  print-Avork 
after  all.     No  ;  that  will  never  do. " 

Notwithstanding  these  views,  which  Endymion  found  very 
generally  entertained  by  the  new  world  in  which  he  mixed,  ho 
resolved  to  take  the  earliest  opportunity  of  attending  the  meet- 
ing of  the  league,  and  it  soon  arrived. 

It  was  an  evening  meeting,  so  that  workmen — or  opera- 
tives, as  they  were  styled  in  this  part  of  the  kingdom — should 
be  able  to  attend.  The  assembly  took  place  in  a  large  but  tem- 
porary building  ;  very  well  adapted  to  the  human  voice,  and  able 
to  contain  oven  thousands.  It  was  fairly  full  to-night ;  and  the 
platform,  on  which  those  who  took  a  part  in  the  proceedings,  or 
who,  by  their  comparatively  influential  presence,  it  was  sup- 
posed, might  assist  the  cause,  wms  almost  crowded. 

''He  is  going  to  speak  to-night,"  said  an  operative  to  En- 
dymion.    ''That  is  why  there  is  such  an  attendance." 

Remembering  ^Ir.  Wilton's  hint  about  not  asking  unneces- 
sary questions  which  often  arrest  information,  Endymion  did 
not  inquire  who  "he"  Avas;  and  to  promote  communication 
merely  obscrA'od,  "A  fine  speaker,  then,  I  conclude  ?" 

"Well,  he  is  in  a  way,"  said  the  oi^erativo.  "He  has  not 
got  Ilollaballoo's  voice,  but  he  knows  what  ho  is  talking  about. 
I  doubt  their  getting  what  they  are  after ;  they  have  not  the 
working  classes  with  them.  If  they  Avent  against  truck,  it  Avould 
bo  something." 

The  chairman  opened  the  proceedings  ;  but  Avas  coldly  ro- 
coiA'od,  though  he  spoke  sensibly  and  at  some  length.  He  then 
introduced  a  gentleman,  Avho  Avas  absolutely  an  alderman,  to 
moAT  a  resolution  condemnatory  of  the  corn  laAVS.  The  august 
position  of  the  speaker  atoned  for  his  halting  rhetoric,  and  a 


.1 


I 


JOB  AS  AX  (JRATOIi. 


2T0 


city  which  luul  only  just  for  the  first  time  been  invcatccl  with 
muuiciiuil  privileges  was  hushed  before  a  man  who  mi^lit  in 
time  even  become  a  mayor. 

Then  the  seconder  advanced,  aiid  there  Avas  a  general  burst 
of  applause. 

''There  he  is,"  said  the  operative  to  Kndymion  ;  "you  see 
they  like  him.     Oh,  Job  knows  how  to  do  it ! '' 

Endymion  listened  with  interest,  soon  with  delight,  soou 
with  a  fcelirg  of  exciting  and  not  unpleasing  pei'plexity,  to  the 
orator ;  for  he  was  an  orator,  though  then  unrecognized,  and 
known  only  in  his  district.  lie  was  a  i)ale  and  slender  man, 
with  a  line  brow  and  an  eye  that  occasionally  Hashed  with  the 
fire  of  a  creative  mind,  llis  voice  certainly  was  not  like  llol- 
labidloo's.  It  was  rather  thin,  but  singularly  clear.  T'here 
was  nothing  clearer  except  his  meaning.  Endymion  never 
heard  a  case  stated  with  such  pellucid  art ;  facts  marshaled 
with  such  vivid  simplicity,  and  inferences  so  natural  and  spon- 
taneous and  irresistible,  that  they  seemed,  as  it  were,  borrowed 
from  his  audience,  though  none  of  that  audience  had  arrived 
at  them  before.  The  mectiiig  was  hushed,  was  rapt  in  intel- 
lectual delight,  for  they  did  not  give  the  s})eaker  the  enthusi- 
asm of  their  sympathy.  That  was  not  shared,  perhaps,  by  the 
moiety  of  those  who  listened  to  him.  When  his  case  Avas  fairly 
before  them,  the  spetdvcr  dealt  with  his  opponents — some  in 
the  press,  some  in  Parliament — Avith  much  poAA'cr  of  sarcasm, 
but  this  poAver  was  evidently  rather  repressed  than  illowed  to 
run  riot.  AVliat  impressed  Endymion  as  the  chief  quality  of 
this  remarkable  speaker  Avas  his  persuasiveness,  and  he  had  the 
air  of  being  too  prudent  to  offend  even  an  opponent  unneces- 
sarily. His  language,  though  natural  and  easy,  AA^as  choice 
and  refined.  He  Avas  evidently  a  man  avIio  had  read,  and  not 
a  little  ;  and  there  Avas  no  taint  of  vulgarity,  scarcely  a  pro- 
vincialism, in  his  pronunciation. 

lie  spoke  for  rather  more  than  an  lioui-;  and  frequently 
during  this  time,  Endymion,  notAvithstanding  his  keen  interest 
in  Avliat  AA'as  taking  place,  was  troubled,  it  might  be  disturbed, 
by  pictures  and  memories  of  the  past  that  he  endeavored  in 
vam  to  driA'e  aAvay.     When  the  orator  concluded,  amid  cheer- 


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33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

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ENDYMIOX. 


ing  mucli  louder  than  tliat  which  liad  first  greeted  him,  En- 
dymion,  in  a  rather  agitated  voice,  whispered  to  his  neighbor, 
*'  Tell  me — is  his  name  Thornberry  ?" 

"That  is  your  time  of  day,"  said  the  operative.  "Job 
Thornberry  is  his  name,  and  I  am  on  his  works." 

"And  yet  you  do  not  agree  with  him  ?" 

"Well ;  I  go  as  far  as  he  goes,  but  he  does  not  go  so  far  as 
I  go  ;  that's  it." 

"I  do  not  see  how  a  man  can  go  much  farther,"  said  En- 
dymion.  "  Where  are  his  works  ?  I  knew  your  master  when 
he  was  in  the  south  of  England,  and  T  should  like  to  call  on 
him." 

"My  employer,"  said  the  operative.  "They  call  them- 
selves masters,  but  we  do  not.  T  will  tell  you.  His  works  are 
a  mile  out  of  town ;  but  it  seems  only  a  step,  for  there  are 
houses  all  the  way.  Job  Thornberry  tSi  Go's.  Print-works,  Pen- 
dleton Road — any  one  can  guide  you — and  when  you  get  there, 
you  can  ask  for  me,  if  you  lilve.  I  am  his  overlooker,  and  my 
name  is  Exocii  Craggs." 


I 


CHAPTER  LXIII. 

"You  are  not  much  altered,"  said  Thornbeny,  as  ho  re- 
tained Endymion's  hand,  and  he  looked  at  him  earnestly  ; 
"  and  yet  you  have  become  a  man.  I  suppose  I  am  ten  years 
your  senior.  I  have  never  been  back  to  the  old  place,  iud  yet  I 
sometimes  think  I  should  like  to  be  buried  there.  The  old 
man  has  been  here,  and  more  than  once,  and  liked  it  well 
enough  ;  at  least,  I  hope  so.  He  told  me  a  good  deal  about 
3-0U  all ;  some  sorrows,  and,  I  hope,  some  joys.  I  heard  of 
Mi.<s  ^Myra's  marriage  ;  she  was  a  sAveet  young  lady  ;  the  gravest 
person  I  ever  knew  ;  I  never  knew  her  smile.  I  remember  they 
thought  her  proud,  but  I  always  had  a  fancy  for  her.  Well  ; 
she  has  married  a  topsawyer — I  believe  the  ablest  of  them  all, 
.and  probably  the  most  unprincipled  ;  though  I  ought  not  to 
.say  that  to  you.     However,  public  men  are  spoken  freely  of. 


1 


•s 


I 


I 


JOB  TJIORXBEIiliY'S  HOME. 


2S1 


I  wisli  to  hciivcn  you  would  got  liim  to  leave  off  tinkering-  tliose 
commercial  treaties  that  lie  is  always  making  such  a  fuj-s  jiljout. 
More  pernicious  nonsense  was  never  devised  by  man  than  trea- 
ties of  commerce.  However,  (heir  i)recious  most  favored  nation 
clause  will  break  down  the  whole  concern  yet.  15ut  you  wish 
to  see  the  Avorks  ;  I  will  &how  them  to  you  myself.  There  is 
not  much  going  on  now,  and  the  stagnation  increases  daily. 
And  then,  if  you  are  willing,  we  will  go  home  and  have  a  bit 
of  lunch — I  live  hard  by.  ^My  best  works  are  my  wife  and  chil- 
dren :  I  have  made  that  joke  before,  as  you  can  well  fancy." 

This  was  the  greeting,  sincere  but  not  unkind,  of  Job 
Thornberry  to  Endymion  on  tho  day  after  the  meeting  of  the 
Anti-Corn-Law  League.  To  Endymion  it  was  an  interesting, 
and,  as  he  believed  it  would  prove,  a  useful  encounter. 

The  print-works  were  among  the  most  considerable  of  their 
kind  at  Manchester,  but  they  were  working  now  with  reduced 
numbers  and  at  half  time.  It  was  the  energy  and  the  taste  and 
invention  of  Thornberry  that  had  given  them  their  reputation, 
and  secured  them  extensive  markets,  lie  had  worked  with 
borrowed  capital,  but  had  paid  off  his  debt,  aiul  his  establish- 
mei.t  was  now  his  own  ;  but,  stimulated  by  his  success,  he  had 
made  a  consignment  of  large  amount  to  the  United  States, 
Avhere  it  arrived  only  to  be  -welcomed  by  what  was  called  the 
American  crasii. 

Turning  from  the  high  road,  a  Avalk  of  half  a  mile  brought 
them  to  a  little  world  of  villas  ;  varying  in  style  and  size,  but 
all  pretty,  and  each  in  its  garden.  "  And  this  is  my  home," 
said  Thornberry,  opening  the  wicket,  "  and  here  is  my  mistress 
and  the  young  folks  " — pointing  to  a  pretty  woman,  but  with 
an  expression  of  no  inconsiderable  self-confidence,  and  with  sev- 
eral children  clinging  to  her  dress  and  hiding  their  faces  at  the 
unexpected  sight  of  a  stranger.  "' My  eldest  is  a  boy,  but  ho 
is  at  school,"  said  Thornberry.  "  I  have  named  him  after  one 
of  the  greatest  men  that  ever  lived,  John  Hampden." 

"He  was  a  landed  proprietor,"  observed  Endymion,  rather 
dryly;  "and  a  considerable  one." 

•*  I  have  brought  an  old  friend  to  take  cheer  with  us,"  con- 
tinued Thornberry  ;  "  one  whom  I  knew  before  any  here  pres- 


282 


EXDYMION. 


cnt ;  so  show  your  faces,  little  people  ;  "  and  he  caught  up  one 
of  the  children,  a  fair  child  like  its  mother,  long-haired  and 
blushing  like  a  AVorcestershire  orchard  before  harvest  time. 
"  Tell  the  gentleman  what  you  are." 

*'  x\  free-trader,"  murmured  the  infant. 

Within  the  house  were  several  shelves  of  books  well  selected, 
and  the  walls  were  adorned  Avith  capital  prints  of  famous  works 
of  art.  *'  They  are  chiefly  what  are  calbd  books  of  reference," 
said  Thornberry,  as  Endymion  was  noticing  his  volumes  ;  "  but 
I  have  not  much  room,  and,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  they  are  not 
merely  books  of  reference  to  me — I  like  reading  encyclopaBdias. 
The  '  Dictionary  of  Dates  '  is  a  favorite  book  of  mine.  The 
mind  sometimes  wants  tone,  and  then  I  read  Milton.  He  is 
the  only  poet  I  read — he  is  complete,  and  is  enougli.  I  have 
got  his  prose  works  too.  Milton  was  the  greatest  c^  English- 
men." 

The  repast  was  simple,  but  plenteous,  and  nothing  could  be 
neater  tlian  the  manner  in  which  it  was  served. 

''We  are  teetotalers,"  said  Thornberry;  ''but  we  can  give 
you  a  good  cup  of  coffee." 

"  I  am  a  teetotaler  too  at  this  time  of  the  day,"  said  Endym- 
ion ;  "but  a  good  cup  of  coffee  is,  they  sa}',  the  most  delicious 
and  the  rarest  beverage  in  the  Avorld." 

"Well,"  continued  Tliornberry,  "it  is  a  long  time  since  we 
met  Mr.  Ferrars — ten  years.  I  used  to  think  tliat  in  ten  years 
one  might  do  anytliing  ;  and  a  year  ago,  I  really  thought  I  had 
done  it ;  but  the  accursed  laws  of  this  blessed  country,  as  it 
calls  itself,  have  nearly  broken  me,  as  they  have  broken  many 
a  better  man  before  me. " 

"I  am  sorry  to  hear  this,"  said  Endymion  ;  "I  trust  it  is 
but  a  passing  cloud." 

"It  is  not  a  cloud,"  said  Tliornberry;  "it  is  a  storm,  a 
tempest,  a  wreck — but  not  only  for  me.  Your  great  relative,  my 
Lord  Roehampton,  must  look  to  it,  I  can  tell  you  that.  What 
is  happening  in  this  country,  and  is  about  to  liappen,  will  not 
be  cured  or  averted  by  commercial  treaties — mark  my  words." 

"  But  what  would  cure  it  ?  "  said  Endymion. 

"There  is  only  one  thing  that  can  cure  this  country,  and 


FREE  EXCUAXOE. 


2S3 


it  will  soon  be  too  late   for  that.     We  must   have   free  ex- 
change." 

"Free  exchange  !"  murnuired  Endymion,  thoughtfully. 

"Why,  look  at  this,"  said  Thornbcrry.  "I  had  been  driv- 
ing a  capital  trade  with  the  States  for  nearly  five  years.  I  be- 
gan with  nothing,  as  you  know.  I  had  paid  off  all  my  borrowed 
capital ;  my  works  were  my  own,  and  tliis  house  is  u  freehold. 
A  year  ago  I  sent  to  my  correspondent  at  New  York  the  largest 
consignment  of  goods  I  had  ever  made  and  the  best,  and  I  can 
not  get  the  slightest  return  for  them.  My  correspondent  writes 
to  me  that  there  is  no  end  of  corn  and  breadstuffs  which  lie 
could  send,  if  avc  could  only  receive  them  ;  but  he  knows  very 
well  he  might  as  well  trv  and  send  them  to  the  moon.  The 
people  here  are  starving  and  Avant  tliese  breadstuffs,  and  tliey 
are  ready  to  pay  for  them  by  the  i)roducts  of  their  labor — and 
your  blessed  laws  prevent  them  ! " 

"But  these  laws  did  not  prevent  your  carrying  on  a  thriv- 
ing trade  with  America  for  five  years,  according  to  your  own 
account,"  said  Endymion.  "  I  do  not  question  Avhat  you  say  ; 
I  am  asking  only  for  information." 

"  AMuit  you  say  is  fairly  said,  and  it  has  been  said  before," 
replied  Tliornberry ;  "but  there  is  nothing  in  it.  We  liad  a 
trade,  and  a  thriving  trade,  with  the  States ;  though,  to  be 
sure,  it  was  always  fitful,  and  ought  to  have  been  ten  times  as 
much,  even  during  those  five  years.  But  the  fact  is,  the  state 
of  affairs  in  America  was  then  exceptional.  They  were  em- 
barked in  great  public  works  in  wliich  every  one  was  investing 
his  cai)ital  ;  shares  and  stocks  abounded,  and  they  paid  us  for 
our  goods  with  them." 

"Then  it  would  rather  seem  that  they  have  no  capital  now 
to  spare  to  purchase  our  goods  ?  " 

"  Not  so,"  said  Tliornberry,  shar})ly,  "  as  I  have  shown  ;  but 
were  it  so,  it  docs  not  affect  my  principle.  If  there  were  free 
exchange,  we  should  find  employment  and  compensation  in 
other  countries,  even  if  the  States  were  logged,  which  I  don't 
believe  thirty  millions  of  people  with  boundless  territory  ever 
can  be." 

"  But  after  all,"  said  Endymion,  "  America  is  as  little  in 


2S4: 


ENDYMIOK 


favor  of  free  cxcliange  as  we  arc.  Slie  may  send  us  her  bread- 
stuffs  ;  but  licr  laws  will  not  admit  our  goods,  except  on  the 
l)ayment  of  enormous  duties." 

'Tisli !"'  said  Tliornberry ;  "I  do  not  care  this  for  their 
enormous  duties.  Let  me  have  free  imports,  and  I  will  soon 
settle  their  duties." 

"  To  fight  hostile  tariffs  with  free  imports/'  said  Endymion  ; 
'*  is  not  that  fighting  against  odds  ?  " 

*'Xot  a  bit.  This  country  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  con- 
eider  its  imjiorts.  Foreigners  will  not  give  us  their  products 
for  nothing  ;  but  as  for  their  tariffs,  if  avc  were  wise  men,  and 
looked  to  our  real  interests,  their  hostile  tariffs,  as  3'ou  call 
them,  would  soon  be  falling  down  like  an  old  wall." 

*'Well,  I  confess,"  said  Endymion,  "I  have  for  some  time 
thought  the  principle  of  free  exchange  was  a  sound  one  ;  but  its 
application  in  a  country  like  this  would  be  very  difficult,  and 
-require,  I  should  think,  great  prudence  and  moderation." 

"By  prudence  and  moderation  you  mean  ignorance  and 
timidity,"  said  Thornberry,  scornfuU}-. 

**Not  exactly  that,  I  hope,"  said  Endymion;  ''but  you 
can  not  deny  that  the  home  market  is  a  most  important  ele- 
ment in  the  consideration  of  our  public  wealth,  and  it  mainly 
rests  upon  the  agriculture  of  the  country." 

''  Then,  it  rests  upon  a  very  poor  foundation,"  said  Tliorn- 
bcrr}'.  "But  if  any  persons  should  be  more  tempted  than 
others  by  free  exchange,  it  should  be  the  great  body  of  the 
consumers  of  this  land,  Avho  pay  unjust  and  excessive  prices 
for  every  article  they  require.  No,  my  dear  Mr.  Ferrars  ;  the 
question  is  a  very  simple  one,  and  we  may  talk  for  ever,  and 
we  shall  never  alter  it.  The  laws  of  this  country  are  made  by 
the  proprietors  of  land,  and  they  make  them  for  their  own 
benefit.  A  man  Avith  a  large  estate  is  said  to  have  a  great 
stake  in  the  country  because  some  hundreds  of  people  or  so  are 
more  or  less  dependent  on  him.  How  has  he  a  greater  inter- 
est in  the  country  than  a  manufacturer  who  has  sunk  £100,000 
in  machinery,  and  has  a  thousand  people,  as  I  had,  receiving 
from  him  weekly  wages  ?  No  home  market,  indeed  !  Pali !  it 
is  an  affair  of  rent,  and  nothing  more  nor  less.     And  England 


ft' 


EXOCn  CRAGGS. 


2S5 


is  to  be  ruined  to  keo])  up  rents.  Arc  you  going  ?  Well,  I  am 
glad  we  have  met.  Perhaps  we  shall  have  another  talk  to- 
gether some  day.  I  shall  not  return  to  the  works.  There  is 
little  doing  there,  and  I  must  think  now  of  other  things.  Tho 
subscriptions  to  the  league  begin  to  come  in  apace.  Say  what 
they  like  in  the  House  of  Commons  and  the  vile  London  press, 
the  thing  is  stirring." 

Wishing  to  turn  tlic  conversation  a  little,  Endymion  asked 
Mrs.  Thornberry  whether  she  occasio?>ally  went  to  London. 

*' Never  was  there,"  she  said,  in  a  sharp,  clear  voice  ;  "but 
I  hope  to  go  soon." 

"  You  will  have  a  great  deal  to  see." 

''All  I  want  to  sec,  and  hear,  is  the  Rev.  Servctus  Frost," 
replied  the  lady.  "  My  idea  of  perfect  happiness  is  to  hear 
him  every  Sunday,  lie  comes  here  sometimes,  for  his  sister 
is  settled  here ;  a  very  big  mill.  He  preached  here  a  month 
ago.  Should  not  I  have  liked  the  bishop  to  have  heard  him, 
that's  all !  But  he  would  not  dare  to  go  ;  he  could  not  answer 
a  point." 

"My  wife  is  of  the  Unitarian  persuasion,"  said  ThornbeiTy. 
"  I  am  not.  I  was  born  in  our  Church,  and  I  keep  to  it ;  but 
I  often  go  to  chapel  with  my  wife.  As  for  religion  generally, 
if  a  man  believe  in  his  Maker  and  docs  his  duty  to  his  neigh- 
bor, in  my  mind  that  is  sufficient." 

Endymion  bade  them  good-by,  and  strolled  musingly  to- 
ward his  hotel. 

Just  as  he  reached  the  works  again,  he  encountered  Enoch 
Craggs,  who  was  walking  into  Manchester. 

''I  am  going  to  our  institute,"  said  Enoch.  "I  do  not 
know  why,  but  they  have  put  me  on  the  committee." 

''And,  I  doubt  not,  they  did  very  wisely,"  paid  Endymion. 

"Master  Thornberry  was  glad  to  sec  you  ?"  said  Enoch. 

"And  I  was  glad  to  sec  liim." 

"He  has  got  the  gift  of  speech,"  said  Enoch. 

"And  that  is  a  great  gift." 

"  If  wisely  exercised,  and  I  will  not  say  he  is  not  exercising 
it  wisely.  Ce^lainly  for  his  own  purpose,  but  whether  that 
purpose  is  for  the  general  good — query  ?  " 


E^DYMION. 


is  agiiinsu  monopoly,"  observed  Eiulymion,  inqiiir- 


2S6 
"Ik 

"  Query  again  ?"  said  Enoch. 

**  "Well ;  lie  is  opposed  to  the  corn  laws." 

**Thc  corn  laws  are  very  bad  laws,"  said  Enoch,  ''and  the 
sooner  we  get  rid  of  them  the  better.  But  there  arc  worse 
things  than  the  corn  laws." 

''Hem  !  "  said  Endymion. 

''There  are  the  money  laws,"  said  Enoch. 

"I  did  not  know  you  cared  so  mucli  about  them  at  Man- 
chester," said  Endymion.  "I  thought  it  was  Birmingham 
that  was  chiefly  interested  about  currency." 

"I  do  not  care  one  jot  about  currency,"  said  Enoch; 
"and,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  the  Birmingham  cliaps  talk  a 
deal  of  nonsense  about  tlic  matter.  Lcast\vir-e,  they  will  never 
convince  me  tliat  a  slip  of  irredeemable  paper  is  as  good  as  the 
young  queen's  head  on  a  twenty-shilling  piece.  I  mean  the 
laws  that  secure  the  accumulation  of  capital,  by  which  means 
the  real  producers  become  mere  hirelings,  and  really  arc  little 
better  than  slaves." 

"But  surely  without  capital  we  should  all  of  us  be  little 
better  than  slaves  ?  " 

"I  am  not  against  capital,"  replied  Enoch.  "What  I  am 
against  is  capitalists." 

"But  if  we  get  rid  of  capitalists  we  shall  soon  get  rid  of 
capital." 

"No,  no,"  said  Enoch,  with  his  broad  accent,  shaking  his 
head,  and  with  a  laughing  eye.  "Master  Thornberry  has 
been  telling  you  that.  He  is  the  most  inveterate  capitalist  of 
the  whole  lot ;  and  I  always  say,  though  they  keep  aloof  from 
him  at  present,  they  will  be  all  sticking  to  his  skirts  before 
long.  Master  Thornberry  is  against  the  capitalists  in  land  ; 
but  there  are  other  capitalists  nearer  home,  and  I  know  more 
about  them.  I  was  reading  a  book  the  other  day  about  King 
Charles — Charles  the  First,  whose  head  they  cut  off — I  am  very 
liking  1  >)  Hiiit  time,  and  read  a  good  deal  about  it ;  and  there  was 
Lord  Falkland,  a  great  gentleman  in  those  days,  and  he  said, 
when  Archbishop  Land  was  trying  on  some  of  his  priestly 


COOPKRATIOX. 


i>s: 


tricks,  that  *  if  lie  were  to  luivc  a  pope,  lie  would  rather  the 
])ope  Avcre  at  Rome  than  at  Lambeth.'  So  I  sometimes  think, 
if  we  are  to  be  ruled  by  capitalist.^,  I  would  sooner,  perhaps,  be 
ruled  by  gentlemen  of  estate,  who  have  been  long  among  us, 
than  by  persons  who  build  big  mills,  who  come  from  (iod  knows 
whence,  and  when  they  have  worked  their  millions  out  of  our 
flesh  and  bone,  go  God  knows  where.  But  perhaps  wo  shall 
get  rid  of  them  all  some  day — landlords  and  mill-lords.'' 

''And  whom  will  you  substitute  for  them  ?*' 

**The  producers,"  said  Enoch,  with  a  glance  half  savage, 
half  triumphant. 

"  What  can  workmen  do  without  capital  ?*' 

''Why,  they  make  the  capital,"  said  Enoch  ;  "and  if  they 
make  the  capital,  is  it  not  strange  that  they  should  not  be  able 
to  contrive  some  means  to  keep  the  capital  ?  AVliy,  Job  was 
saying  the  other  day  that  there  Avas  nothing  like  a  principle  to 
work  upon.  It  would  carry  all  before  it.  So  say  I.  And  I 
have  a  princii)le  too,  though  it  is  not  Master  Thornberry's. 
But  it  Avill  carry  all  before  it,  though  it  may  not  be  in  my 
time.     But  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that." 

"And  what  is  it  ?"  asked  Endymion. 

"Cooperation." 


am 


of 

his 
I  has 
It  of 
fom 
pro 

Id; 
lore 
ling 


CHAPTER  LXIV. 

Tins  strangely  revived  acquaintance  with  Job  Thornberry 
was  not  an  unfruitful  incident  in  the  life  of  Endymion. 
Thornberry  was  a  man  of  original  mind  and  singular  energy  ; 
and,  although  of  extreme  views  on  commercial  subjects,  all  his 
conclusions  were  founded  on  extensive  and  various  informa- 
tion, combined  with  no  inconsiderable  practice.  The  mind  of 
Thornberry  was  essentially  a  missionary  one.  He  was  always 
ready  to  convert  people  ;  and  he  acted  with  ardor  and  interest 
on  a  youth  who,  both  by  his  ability  and  his  social  position,  was 
qualified  to  influence  opinion.  But  this  youth  was  gifted  with 
a  calm,  wise  judgment,  of  the  extent  and  depth  of  which  he 
was  scarcely  conscious  himself ;  and  Thornberry,  like  all  propa- 


288 


ENDYMIOX. 


p^anristf 


was  more  rcmarkaMc  for  liis  zciil  and  lii.s  convictionf?, 
lliaii  for  tliat  observation  and  perception  of  eliaractcr  wliicli  arc 
tlie  finest  elements  in  tlie  management  of  men  and  adairs. 

"  What  you  should  do,"  said  Thornberry,  one  day  to  En- 
dymion,  *'  is  to  go  to  Scotland  ;  go  to  the  Glasgow  district ; 
that  city  itself,  and  Paisley,  and  Kilmarnock — keep  your  eye 
on  Paisley.  I  am  much  mistaken  if  there  will  not  soon  be  a 
state  of  things  there  which  alone  will  break  up  the  whole  con- 
cern.    It  will  burst  it,  sir  ;  it  will  burst  it." 

So  Endymion,  without  saying  anything,  quietly  went  to 
ClasgoAvand  its  district,  and  noted  enough  to  make  him  re- 
solve soon  to  visit  there  again  ;  but  the  cabinet  reassembled  in 
the  early  part  of  November,  and  he  had  to  return  to  his  duties. 

In  his  leisure  hours,  Endymion  devoted  himself  to  the  prep- 
aration of  a  report,  for  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton,  on  the  condition 
and  prospects  of  the  manufacturing  districts  of  the  north  of 
England,  with  some  illustrative  reference  to  that  country  be- 
yond the  Tweed.  lie  concluded  it  before  Christmas,  and  Mr. 
Wilton  took  it  down  with  him  to  Gaydene,  to  study  it  at  his 
leisure.  Endymion  passed  his  holidays  with  Lord  and  Lady 
Montfort,  at  their  southern  seat,  Princedown. 

Endymion  spoke  to  Lady  Montfort  a  little  about  his  labors, 
for  he  had  no  secrets  from  her  ;  but  she  did  not  much  sympa- 
thize with  him,  though  she  liked  him  to  bo  sedulous  and  to 
distinguish  himself.  "Only,"  she  observed,  ''take  care  not 
to  be  doctrinaire,  Endymion.  I  am  always  afraid  of  that  with 
you.  It  is  Sidney's  fault ;  he  always  was  doctrinaire.  It  was 
a  great  thing  for  you  becoming  his  private  secretary  ;  to  be  the 
private  secretary  of  a  cabinet  minister  is  a  real  step  in  life,  and 
I  shall  always  be  most  grateful  to  Sidney,  whom  I  love  for  ap- 
pointing you ;  but  stili,  if  I  could  have  had  my  wish,  you 
should  have  been  Lord  Roehampton's  private  secretary.  That 
is  real  politics,  and  he  is  a  real  statesman.  You  must  not  let 
Mr.  Wilton  mislead  you  about  the  state  of  affairs  in  the  cabi- 
net. The  cabinet  consists  of  the  prime  minister  and  Lord 
Roehampton,  and,  if  they  are  united,  all  the  rest  is  vapor. 
And  they  will  not  consent  to  any  nonsense  about  touching  the 
corn  laws  ;  you  may  be  sure  of  that.     Besides,  I  will  tell  you  a 


TRADE  AND  FIXANCE. 


281> 


secret,  wliicli  i.s  not  yet  Pulchincllo's  secret,  thou^^h  I  daie  say 
it  will  be  known  wlieii  we  all  return  to  town — we  shall  have  u 
jrreat  event  when  Parliament  meets  ;  a  roval  niarriaw.  What 
think  you  of  that  ?  The  youn^  queen  i.s  going  to  be  married, 
and  to  a  young  i)rince,  like  a  prince  in  a  fairy  tale.  As  Lord 
Roehampton  wrote  to  me  this  morning,  'Our  royal  marriage 
will  be  much  more  popular  than  the  Anti-C'orn-Law  Leagui'."* 

The  royal  marriage  was  very  pojjular  ;  but,  unfortunately, 
it  reflected  no  splendor  on  the  ministry.  The  world  ble-sed 
the  queen  and  cheered  the  prince,  but  shook  its  head  at  tlio 
government.  Sir  Kobcrt  Peel  also — whether  from  his  own 
motive,  or  the  irresistible  impulse  of  his  party  need  not  now  be 
inquired  into — sanctioned  a  direct  attack  on  the  government, 
in  the  shape  of  a  vote  of  want  of  confidence  in  them,  immedi- 
ately the  court  festivities  were  over,  and  the  attack  was  de- 
feated by  a  narrow  majority. 

"Nothing  could  be  more  unprincipled,"  said  Berengaria, 
''after  lie  had  refused  to  take  oflice  last  year.  As  for  our  ma- 
jority, it  is,  under  such  circumstances,  twenty  times  more  than 
wc  want.     As  Lord  Roehampton  says,  one  is  enough." 

Trade  and  revenue  continued  to  decline.  There  was  again 
the  prospect  of  a  deficiency.  The  ministry,  too,  was  kept  in 
by  the  Irish  vote,  and  the  Irish  then  were  very  unpopular. 
The  cabinet  itself  generally  was  downcast,  and  among  them- 
selves occasionally  murmured  a  regret  tliat  tliey  had  not  re- 
tired Avhen  the  opportunity  offered  in  the  j^cceding  year. 
Berengaria,  however,  would  not  bate  an  inch  of  confidence  and 
courage.  "You  think  too  much,"  she  said  to  Endymion,  "of 
trade  and  finance.  Trade  always  comes  back,  and  finance- 
never  ruined  a  country-,  or  an  individual  cither  if  he  had  pluck. 
Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  is  a  croaker.  The  things  he  fears  will 
never  happen  ;  or,  if  they  do,  Avill  cu^n  out  to  bo  unimportant. 
Look  to  Lord  Roehampton  ;  ho  is  the  man.  He  does  not  care 
a  rush  whether  the  revenue  increases  or  declines.  He  is  think- 
ing of  real  politics  ;  foreign  affairs  ;  maintaining  our  power  in 
Europe.  Something  will  happen,  before  the  session  is  over,  in 
the  Mediterranean  ;  "  and  she  pressed  her  finger  to  her  lip,  and 
then  she  added,  "  The  country  will  support  Lord  Roehampton, 
18 


200 


EXD  YMIOX. 


as  tlicy  Rupportcil  Pitt,  and  give  him  an}  amount  of  taxes  that 
he  likes." 

In  the  mean  time,  tlic  social  world  had  its  incidents  as  well 
as  the  political,  and  not  less  interesting.  One  of  the  n)ost  in- 
signilicant,  perhaps,  was  the  introduction  into  society  of  the 
Countess  of  Beaumaris.  Her  husband,  sacrificing  even  his 
hunting,  had  come  up  to  town  at  the  meeting  of  Parliament, 
and  received  his  friends  in  a  noble  mansion  on  Piccadilly  Ter- 
race. All  its  equipments  were  sumi)tuous  and  refined,  and 
everything  had  been  arranged  under  the  personal  supervision 
of  Mr.  Waldershare.  They  commenced  very  quietly  ;  dinners 
little  but  constant,  and  graceful  and  finished  as  a  banrpiet  of 
AVattcDU  ;  no  formal  invitations  ;  men  were  biought  in  to  din- 
ner from  the  House  of  Lords  **  just  up,"  or  picked  up,  as  it 
vv'cre  carelessly,  in  the  House  of  Commons  by  Mr.  Waldershare, 
or  were  asked  by  Imogene,  at  a  dozen  hours'  notice,  in  billets 
of  irresistible  simplicity.  Soon  it  was  whispered  about,  that 
the  thing  to  do  was  to  dine  with  Beaumaris,  and  that  Lady 
Beaumaris  was  '^ something  too  delightful."  Prince  Florcstan 
frequently  dined  there  ;  AValdersharo  always  there,  in  a  state 
of  coruscation  ;  and  every  man  of  fashion  in  the  opposite  ranks, 
especially  if  they  had  brains. 

Then,  in  a  little  time,  it  was  gently  hoped  that  Imogene 
should  call  on  their  wives  and  mothers,  or  their  wives  and  moth- 
ers call  on  her  ;  and  then  she  received,  without  any  formal  in- 
vitation, twice  a  week ;  and  as  there  was  nothing  going  on  in 
London,  or  nothing  half  so  charming,  everybody  who  was  any- 
body came  to  Piccadilly  Terrace  ;  and  so  as,  after  long  obser- 
vation, a  new  planet  is  occasionally  discovered  by  a  philosopher, 
thus  society  suddenly  and  indubitably  discovered  that  there  Avas 
at  last  a  Tory  house. 

Lady  Roehampton,  duly  apprised  of  affairs  by  her  brother, 
had  called  on  Lord  and  Lady  Beaumaris,  and  had  invited  them 
to  her  house.  It  was  the  first  appearance  of  Imogene  in  gen- 
eral society,  and  it  was  successful.  Her  large  brown  eyes,  and 
long  black  lashes,  her  pretty  mouth  and  dimple,  her  wondrous 
hair — which,  it  was  whispered,  unfolded,  touched  the  ground 
— struck  every  one,  and  the  dignified  simplicity  of  her  carriage 


LADY  DEAUMAIil^i. 


201 


KS, 


other, 
tlieni 
gen- 
is,  and 
idrous 
|rronnd 
irmge 


was  attractive.  Tier  liusband  never  left  her  side  ;  wliile  Vlw 
Walder.sliare  was  in  every  pai't  of  tlie  saloon.s,  watching  hi-r 
from  distant  jjoints,  to  see  how  she  got  on,  or  catching  the  re- 
marks of  others  on  her  appearance,  ^fyra  was  kind  to  lier  as 
well  as  courteous,  and,  wlien  tlie  stream  of  arriving  guests  liad 
gomewliat  ceased,  sought  lier  out  and  spoke  to  lier ;  and  t!ien 
put  lier  arm  in  liers,  walked  with  lier  fm*  a  moment,  and  intro- 
duced her  to  one  or  two  great  personages,  who  had  previously 
intimated  their  wish  or  tlieir  consent  to  that  effect.  Lady 
Montfort  was  not  one  of  these.  When  parties  are  ecpial,  and 
the  struggle  for  power  is  intense,  society  loses  much  of  its  sym- 
pathy and  softness.  Lady  Montfort  could  endure  the  i)resence 
of  Tories,  provided  they  were  her  kinsfolk,  and  would  join, 
even  at  their  houses,  in  traditionary  festivities  ;  hut  she  shrunk 
from  passing  the  line,  and  at  once  had  a  prejudice  against  Imo- 
gene,  whom  she  instinctively  felt  might  become  a  power  for 
the  enemy. 

"I  will  not  have  you  talk  so  much  to  that  Lady  Beauma- 
ris," she  said  to  Endymion. 

"She  is  an  old  friend  of  mine,"  he  replied. 

**  How  could  you  have  known  her?  She  was  a  shop-girl, 
was  not  she,  or  something  of  that  sort  ?" 

"  She  and  her  family  were  very  kind  to  mo  when  I  was  not 
much  better  than  a  shop-boy  myself,"  replied  Endymion,  with 
a  mantling  check.  "They  are  most  respectable  people,  and  I 
have  a  great  regard  for  her." 

"Indeed!  Well;  I  will  not  keep  you  from  your  Tory 
woman,"  said  Berengaria,  rudely  ;  and  she  walked  away. 

Altogether,  this  season  of  —10  was  not  a  very  satisfactory 
one  in  any  respect,  as  regarded  society  or  the  country  in  gen- 
eral. Party  passion  was  at  its  highest.  The  ministry  retained 
office  almost  by  a  casting  vote  ;  were  frequently  defeated  on 
important  questions ;  and  whenever  a  vacancy  occurred,  it  was 
filled  by  their  ojiponents.  Their  unpopularity  increased  daily, 
and  it  was  stimulated  by  the  general  distress.  All  that  Job 
Thornberry  had  predicted  as  to  the  state  of  manufacturing 
Scotland  duly  occurred.  Besides  manufacturing  distress,  they 
had  to  encounter  a  series  of  bad  harvests.     Never  was  a  body 


li  ,  I 


292 


EXDYMION. 


of  statesmen  placed  in  u  more  embarrassing  and  less  enviable 
j)Osition.  There  M'as  a  prevalent,  thougb  unfounded,  convic- 
tion that  they  Avero  maintained  in  power  by  a  combination  of 
court  favor  with  Irish  sedition. 

Lady  ^lontfort  and  Lord  Eoehampton  were  the  only  i>er- 
sons  who  never  lost  heart.  She  was  defiant ;  and  he  ever 
smiled,  at  least  in  public.  "  What  nonsense  ! "  she  would  say. 
"  ^Ir.  Sidney  Wilton  talks  about  the  revenue  falling  off  !  As 
if  tlio  revenue  could  ever  really  fall  off  !  And  then  our  bad 
liarvests.  Wiiv,  that  is  the  vcrv  reason  we  shall  have  an  excel- 
lent  harvest  this  year.  You  can  not  go  on  always  having  bad 
harvests.  15esides,  good  harvests  never  make  a  ministry  popu- 
lar. Xobody  thanks  a  ministry  for  a  good  harvest.  What 
makes  a  ministry  popular  is  some  great  coup  in  foreign  affairs." 

Amid  all  these  exciting  disipiiotudes,  Endymion  pursued  a 
life  of  enjoyment,  but  also  of  observation  and  much  labor.  Ho 
lived  more  and  more  with  the  Montforts,  but  the  friendship  o( 
Berengaria  was  not  frivolous.  Though  she  liked  him  to  bo 
seen  Avhere  he  ought  to  figure,  and  required  a  great  deal  of  at- 
tention herself,  she  ever  impressed  on  him  that  his  present  life 
was  only  a  training  for  a  future  career,  and  that  his  mind 
should  ever  bo  fixed  on  the  attainment  of  r.  high  position. 
Particularly  she  impressed  on  him  the  importance  of  being  a 
linguist.  ''There  will  be  a  reaction  some  day  from  all  this 
political  economy,"  she  would  say,  ''  and  then  there  Avill  be  no 
one  ready  to  take  the  helm."  Endymion  was  not  unworthy  of 
the  inspiring  interest  which  Lady  Montfort  took  in  him.  The 
terrible  vicissitudes  of  his  early  years  had  gravely  impressed  his 
character.  Though  ambitious,  ho  was  prudent ;  and,  though 
born  to  please  and  be  pleased,  he  was  sedulous  and  self-re- 
strained. Though  naturally  deeply  interested  in  the  fortunes 
of  his  political  friends,  and  especially  of  Lord  Eoehampton  and 
Mr.  Wilton,  a  careful  scrutiny  of  existing  circumstances  had 
prepared  him  for  an  inevitable  change  ;  and,  remembering  what 
was  their  position  but  a  few  years  back,  he  felt  that  his  s'ster 
and  himself  should  be  reconciled  to  their  altered  lot,  and  be 
content.  She  would  still  'ue  a  poovcss,  and  the  happy  wife  of 
un  illustrious  n  an  :  and  he  himself,  though  he  would  have  to 


THE  GUEAT  COUP. 


203 


lincl 
ioii. 


ig  a 


)Ugll 

f-re- 

1 

uncb 

and 

had 

what 

s'stcr 

d  be 

fc  of 

y| 

,YC  to 

relapse  into  (he  drudgery  of  u  ]mlilie  oHice,  avouUI  meot  duties 
the  discluirge  of  which  was  oiief  the  object  of  liis  ambi- 
tion, coupled  now  witli  an  adequate  income  and  witli  many 
friends. 

And  among  those  friends,  tlieiv  were  none  witli  whom  ho 
maintained  hi.s  relations  more  intimately  than  with  the  Xeu- 
eluitel?.  lie  was  often  their  guest  both  in  town  and  at  Hai- 
nault,  and  he  met  them  freiiuently  in  .society,  always  at  the 
receptions  of  Lady  Montfort  and  his  sister.  Zenobia  used 
sometimes  to  send  him  a  card  ;  l,)ut  these  condescending  recog- 
nitions of  late  had  ceased,  jjarticuhirly  as  the  great  dame  licard 
he  was  ''always  at  that  Lady  Beaumaris's."  One  of  the  social 
incidents  of  his  circle,  not  the  least  interesting  to  him,  was  tlic 
close  attendance  of  Adriana  and  her  mother  on  the  ministra- 
tions of  Nigel  Penruddock.  They  h.ad  become  among  the  most 
devoted  of  his  flock  ;  and  this,  too,  when  the  rapid  and  start- 
ling development  of  his  sacred  oiliccs  had  so  alarmed  the  easy, 
though  sagacious,  Lord  Roelumijiton,  that  he  had  absolutely 
cxjiressed  his  wish  to  ^[yra  that  she  should  rarely  attend  them, 
and,  indeed,  gradually  altogether  drop  a  habit  which  might  ul- 
timately compromise  her.  Bcrengaria  had  long  ago  <piitted 
him.  This  was  attributed  to  her  reputed  caprice,  yet  it  was 
not  so.  *'  I  like  a  man  to  be  practical,"  she  said.  ''When  I 
asked  for  a  deanery  for  him  the  other  da}',  the  prime  minister 
said  he  could  hardly  make  a  man  a  dean  wlio  believed  in  the 
Keal  Presence."  Kigel's  church,  however,  Avas  more  crowded 
than  ever,  and  a  large  body  of  the  clergy  began  to  look  upon 
him  as  the  coming  man. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  year  the  "great  cnnp  in  foreign  af- 
fairs," which  Lady  ^lontfort  had  long  brooded  over,  and  in- 
deed foreseen,  occurred,  and  took  the  world,  who  were  all 
till!;"  iUg  of  something  else,  entirely  by  surjjrise.  A  tripartite 
alliance  of  great  powers  had  suddenly  startv;d  into  life  ;  the 
Egyptian  host  was  swept  from  the  conquered  plains  of  Asia 
Minor  and  Syria  by  English  blue-jackets  ;  St.  .lean  d'Acre, 
which  had  baffled  the  great  Xapoleon,  was  bombarded  and 
taken  by  a  British  fleet ;  and  the  whole  fortunes  of  the  world 
in  a  moment  seemed  changed,  and  jiermanently  changed. 


294 


ENDYMION. 


"I  am  glad  it  did  not  occur  in  the  season,"  said  Zenobia. 
"I  really  could  not  stand  Lady  Montfort  if  it  were  Maj\" 

The  ministry  was  elate,  and  their  Christmas  was  right  merry. 
There  seemed  good  cause  for  this.  It  was  a  triumph  of  diplo- 
matic skill,  national  valor,  and  administrative  energy.  Myra 
was  prouder  of  her  husband  than  ever,  and,  amid  all  the  excite- 
ment, he  smiled  on  her  with  sunny  fondness.  Everybody  con- 
gratulated hor-  She  gave  a  little  reception  before  the  holidays, 
to  which  everybody  came  who  was  in  town  or  passing  through. 
Even  Zenobia  appeared  ;  but  she  staid  a  very  short  time,  talk- 
ing very  rapidly.  Prince  Elorestun  paid  his  grave  devoirs,  with 
a  gaze  Avhich  seemed  always  to  search  into  Lady  Roehampton's 
inmost  heart,  yet  never  lingering  about  her  ;  and  Waldershare, 
full  of  wondrous  compliments  and  conceits,  and  really  enthusi- 
astic, for  he  ever  sympathized  with  action  ;  and  Imogene,  gor- 
geous with  tlie  Beaumaris  sapphires  ;  and  Sidney  Wilton,  who 
kissed  his  hostess's  hand,  and  Adriana,  who  kissed  her  cheek. 

'*  I  tell  you  Avhat,  Mr.  Endymion,"  said  Mr.  Kcuchatel, 
^'  you  should  make  Lord  Koehampton  your  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer,  and  then  your  government  might  perhaps  go  on  a 
httle." 


CHAPTER  LXV. 

But,  as  Mr.  Tadpole  observed,  with  much  originality,  at 
the  Carlton,  they  were  dancing  on  a  volcaiio.  It  was  Decem- 
ber, and  the  harvest  was  not  yet  all  got  in,  the  spring  corn  had 
never  grown,  and  the  wheat  was  rusty ;  there  was,  he  well 
kncAV,  another  deficiency  in  the  revenue,  to  be  counted  ])y  mil- 
lions ;  wise  men  shook  their  heads  and  said  the  trade  was  leav- 
ing the  country,  and  it  Avas  rumored  that  the  whole  population 
of  Paisley  lived  on  the  rates. 

''  Lord  Roehampton  thinks  that  something  must  be  done 
about  the  corn  laws,"  murmured  Berengaria  one  day  to  En- 
dymion, rather  crestfallen  ;  "  but  they  will  try  sugar  and  tim- 
ber first.  I  think  it  all  nonsense,  })ut  nonsense  is  sometimes 
necessary." 


J 


y,  at 

Iceni- 

liad 

well 

mil- 

lleav- 

lation 

I  done 

En- 

tim- 

times 


A    CRITICAL  STRUGGLE. 


295 


Tliis  Avas  the  first  warning  of  that  famous  budget  of  184:1 
which  led  to  such  vast  consequences,  and  wliich,  directly  or  in- 
directly, gave  such  a  new  form  and  color  to  English  politics. 
Sidney  Wilton  and  his  friends  were  at  length  all  powerful  in 
the  cabinet  because,  in  reality,  there  was  nobody  to  oppose  them. 
The  vessel  was  water-logged.  The  premier  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders ;  and  Lord  Eoehampton  said  :  "^  We  may  as  well  try  it, 
because  the  alternative  is,  we  shall  have  to  resign." 

Affairs  went  on  badly  for  the  ministry  during  the  early  part 
of  the  session.  Tliey  were  more  than  once  in  a  minority,  and 
on  Irisli  rnestions,  wliich  then  dcci)ly  interested  the  country  ; 
but  they  had  resolved  that  their  fate  should  be  decided  by  their 
financial  measures,  and  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  and  his  friends  were 
still  sanguine  as  to  the  result.  On  the  last  day  of  April  the 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  introduced  the  budget,  and  pro- 
posed to  provide  for  the  deficiency  by  reducing  the  protective 
duties  on  sugar  and  timber.  A  few  days  after,  the  leader  of  the 
House  of  Commons  himself  announced  a  change  in  the  corn- 
laws,  and  the  intended  introduction  of  grain  at  various-priced 
duties  per  quarter. 

Tiien  commenced  the  struggle  of  a  month.  Ultimately, 
Sir  Robert  Peel  himself  gave  notice  of  a  resolution  of  a  want 
of  confidence  in  the  ministry ;  and  after  a  week's  debate  it 
was  carried,  in  an  almost  complete  house,  by  a  majority  of 


*^one!" 


It  was  generally  supposed  that  the  ministry  would  immedi- 
ately resign.  Their  ncAV  measures  had  not  revived  their  popu- 
larity, and  the  Parliament  in  which  they  had  been  condemned 
had  been  elected  under  tlieir  own  advice  and  influence.  Mr. 
Sidney  AVilton  had  even  told  Endymion  to  get  their  papers  in 
order ;  and  all  around  the  somewhat  dejected  private  secretary 
there  were  unmistakable  signs  of  that  fatal  flitting  which  is 
peculiarly  sickening  to  the  youthful  politician. 

He  was  breakfasting  in  his  rooms  at  the  Albany  with  not  a 
good  appetite.  Although  he  had  for  some  time  contemplated 
the  possibility  of  such  changes — and  contemplated  them,  as  he 
thought,  with  philosophy — when  it  came  to  reality  and  prac- 
tice, he  found  his  spirit  was  by  no  means  so  calm,  or  his  cour- 


290 


ENDYMIOy. 


:igc  so  firm,  as  lio  liad  counted  on.  The  cliarms  of  office  ar- 
rayed themselves  before  hiin.  The  social  influence,  the  secret 
information,  the  danger,  the  dexterity,  the  ceaseless  excite- 
ment, the  delights  of  jiatronage  Avhicli  everybody  affects  to  dis- 
regard, the  power  of  benefiting  others,  and  often  the  wortliy 
iind  unknown  wliich  is  a  real  Joy — in  eight-and-forty  hours  or 
fjo,  all  these,  to  which  he  had  now  been  used  for  some  time, 
und  which  with  his  plastic  disposition  had  become  a  second 
nature — were  to  vanish,  and  probably  never  return.  AVhy 
should  they  ?  lie  took  tlie  gloomiest  view  of  the  future,  and 
his  inward  soul  acknowledged  that  the  man  the  couttry  wanted 
was  Peel.  Why  might  he  not  govern  as  long  as  Pitt  ?  lie 
probably  Avould.  Peel !  his  father's  frii'ud  !  And  this  led  to 
a  train  of  painful  but  absorbing  memories,  and  he  snt  musing 
and  abstracted,  fiddling  with  an  idle  egg-spoon. 

Ilis  servant  came  in  with  a  note,  which  he  eagerly  opened. 
It  ran  thus:  "I  must  see  j'ou  instantly.  I  am  here  in  the 
brougham,  Cork  Street  end,  come  directly.  B.  M." 

Endymion  had  to  Avalk  up  half  the  Albany,  and  marked  the 
brougham  the  whole  way.  There  was  in  it  an  eager  and  radi- 
ant face. 

*'Yon  had  better  get  in,"  said  Lady  Montfort,  *'for  in 
these  stirring  times  some  of  the  enemy  may  be  passing.  And 
now,"  she  continued,  when  the  door  Avas  fairly  shut,  "nobody 
knows  it,  not  five  people.     They  are  going  to  dissolve." 

''  To  dissolve  !  "  exclaimed  Endymion.     "  Will  that  help 


ITS 


9" 


"Very  likely,"  said  Berengaria.  "We  have  had  our  share 
of  bad  luck,  and  now  we  may  throw  in.  Cheap  bread  is  a  fine 
cry.  Indeed  it  is  too  shocking  that  there  should  be  laws  which 
add  to  the  price  of  what  everybody  agrees  is  the  staff  of  life. 
But  you  do  nothing  but  stare,  Endymion  :  I  thought  you 
"Would  be  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  excitement ! " 

"  I  am  rather  stunned  than  excited." 

"  Well  ;  but  you  must  not  be  stunned,  you  must  act.  This 
is  a  crisis  for  our  party,  but  it  is  something  more  for  3'ou.  It 
is  your  climacteric.  They  may  lose  ;  but  you  must  win,  if 
jou  will  only  bestir  yourself.     See  the  whips  directly,  a^:id  get 


J 


REAL  FRIENDS. 


207 


:lp 


his 

It 

if 

ret 


the  most  certain  scat  you  can.  Xothiiig  must  prevent  your 
being  in  the  new  Parliament." 

"  I  see  everything  to  i)revent  it,"  said  Endymion.  "  I  liave 
no  means  of  getting  into  Parliament — no  means  of  any  kind." 

*'  Means  must  he  found,"  ;-aid  Lady  Montfort.  '•  We  can 
not  stop  now  to  talk  about  mcan^^.  That  Avould  be  a  m^^re 
Ava.stc  of  time.  The  thing  must  ])e  done.  I  am  now  going  to 
your  sister,  to  consult  with  her.  All  you  have  got  to  do  is  to 
make  up  your  mind  that  you  will  bo  in  the  next  Parliament, 
and  you  will  succeed ;  for  everything  in  this  world  dei)ends 
upon  will." 

"'i  think  everything  in  this  world  depends  upon  woman," 
said  Endymion. 

"It  is  the  same  tiling,"  said  Berenizaria. 

Adriana  was  with  Lady  Roehampton  when  Lady  Montforfc 
was  announced. 

Adriana  came  to  console  ;  but  she  herself  was  not  without 
solace,  for,  if  there  were  a  change  of  government,  she  Avoukl 
see  more  of  her  friend. 

"AVell;  I  was  prepared  for  it,"  said  Lady  Roehampton. 
"I  have  always  been  expecting  something  ever  since  what  they 
called  the  Bedchamber  Plot." 

*'  Well ;  it  gave  us  two  years,"  said  Lady  Montfort ;  '■'  and 
we  are  not  out  vet." 

Here  were  three  women,  young,  beautiful,  and  powerful, 
and  all  friends  of  Endymion — real  friends.  Property  docs  not 
consist  merely  of  parks  and  palaces,  broad  acres,  funds  in  many 
forms,  services  of  plate,  and  collections  of  pictures.  The  ad'ec- 
tions  of  the  heart  are  property,  and  the  sympathy  of  the  riglit 
person  is  often  worth  a  good  estate. 

These  three  charming  women  were  cordial,  and  embraced 
each  other  when  they  met ;  but  the  conversation  flagged,  and 
the  penetrating  eye  of  Myra  read  in  the  coajtenance  of  Lady 
Montfort  the  urgent  need  of  confidence. 

"So,  dearest  Adriana,"  said  Lady  Roehampton,  "we  will 
drive  out  together  at  three  o'clock.  I  will  call  on  you."  And 
Adriana  disappeared. 

"You   know  it?"  said   Lady  iMontfort,  when   they  were 


298 


ENDYMIOK 


alone.  "Of  course  you  know  it.  Besides,  I  know  you  know 
it.  What  I  have  come  about  isi  this  :  your  brother  must  be  in 
the  new  Parliament." 

''I  liave  not  seen  liim  ;  I  liave  not  mentioned  it  to  him," 
said  Myra,  somewhat  hesitatingly. 

*'  I  have  seen  him  ;  I  have  mentioned  it  to  him,"  said  Lady 
Muntfort,  decidedly.  '*  He  makes  difiiculties  ;  there  must  be 
none.  He  will  consult  you.  I  came  on  at  once  that  you  might 
be  prepared.  Xo  difliculty  must  be  tidmittcd.  His  future  de- 
pends on  it." 

''I  live  for  his  future,"  said  Lady  Roehampton. 

**  He  will  talk  to  you  about  money.  These  things  always 
cost  money.  As  a  general  rule,  nobody  has  money  w'lio  ought 
to  have  it.  I  know  dear  Lord  Roehampton  is  very  kind  to 
you  ;  but,  all  his  life,  he  never  had  too  much  money  at  his 
command ;  though  why,  I  never  could  make  out.  And  my 
lord  has  always  had  too  much  money  ;  but  I  do  not  much  care 
to  talk  to  him  about  these  affairs.  The  thing  must  be  done. 
What  is  the  use  of  diamond  necklaces  if  you  can  not  help  a 
friend  into  Parliament  ?  But  all  I  want  now  is  that  you  Avill 
throw  no  dilTlculties  in  his  w\ay.  Help  him,  too,  if  you 
can." 

"I  wish  Endymion  had  married,"  replied  Myra. 

''W^ell;  I  do  not  see  how  that  would  help  affairs,"  said 
Lady  Montfort.  ''Besides,  I  dislike  married  men.  They  are 
very  uninteresting." 

"I  mean,  I  wish," said  Lady  Roehampton,  musingly,  ''that 
he  had  made  a  great  match." 

"That  is  not  very  easy,"  said  Lady  Montfort,  "and  great 
matches  are  generally  failures.  All  the  married  heiresses  I 
have  known  have  shipwrecked." 

"And  yet  it  is  possible  to  marry  an  heiress  and  love  her," 
said  Myra. 

"It  is  possible,  but  very  improbable." 

"I  think  one  might  easily  love  the  person  who  has  just  left 
the  room." 

"MissNeuchatel?"  > 

"  Adriana.     Do  not  you  agree  with  me  ?" 


IT  MUST  BE  DOXEr 


299 


*'Miss  Xeucluitel  will  never  iiuirry,"  isaid  Lady  Montfort, 
*' unless  she  loses  her  fortune." 

''Well ;  do  you  know,  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  she 
liked  Endymion  ?  I  never  could  encourage  such  a  feeling  ; 
and  Endymion,  I  am  sure,  would  not.  I  wish,  I  almost  Avish," 
added  Lady  Roehampton,  trying  to  speak  with  playfulness, 
"that  you  would  use  your  magic  inlluence,  dear  Lady  ^lont- 
fort,  and  bring  it  about.  He  would  soon  get  into  Parliament 
then." 

''I  luivo  tried  to  marry  Miss  Neuchatel  once,"  said  Lady 
Montfort,  with  a  mantling  check,  *'and  I  am  glad  to  say  I  did 
not  succeed.     My  match-making  is  over. " 

There  was  a  dead  silence  :  one  of  those  still  moments  which 
almost  seem  inconsistent  with  life,  certainly  with  the  presence 
of  mure  than  one  human  being.  Lady  Roehampton  seemed 
buried  in  deep  thought.  She  was  quite  abstracted,  her  eyes 
fixed,  and  fixed  upon  the  ground.  All  the  history  of  her  life 
passed  through  her  brain — all  the  history  of  their  lives  ;  from 
the  nursery  to  this  proud  moment,  proud  even  with  all  its 
searching  anxiety.  And  yet  the  period  of  silence  could  be 
counted  almost  by  seconds.  Suddenly  she  looked  up  with  a 
flushed  cheek  and  a  dazed  look,  and  said,  "It  must  be  done." 

Lady  Montfort  sprang  forward  with  u  glance  radiant  with 
hope  and  energy,  and  kissed  her  on  both  cheeks.  "  Dearest 
Lady  Roehampton,"  she  exclaimed,  "dearest  Myra !  I  knew 
you  would  agree  with  me.     Yes  !  it  must  be  done." 

"You  will  sec  him  perhaps  before  I  do  ?"  inquired  Myra 
rather  hesitatingly. 

"I  see  him  every  day  at  the  same  time,"  replied  Lady 
Montfort.  "He  generally  walks  down  to  the  House  of  Com- 
mons with  Mr.  Wilton,  and  when  they  have  answered  ques- 
tions, and  he  has  got  all  the  news  of  the  lobby,  he  comes  to  me. 
I  always  manage  to  get  home  from  my  drive  to  give  him  half 
an  hour  before  dinner. " 


300 


BXDYMIOy. 


CHAPTER   LXVI. 

Lady  Moxtfort  drove  oIT  to  the  private  residence  of  the 
Secretary  of  tlie  Treasury,  wlio  was  of  course  in  the  great  se- 
cret. She  looked  over  h'S  lists,  examined  his  books,  and 
seemed  to  have  as  much  acquaintance  with  electioneering  de- 
tails as  tliat  wily  and  experienced  gentleman  himself.  "Is 
there  anything  I  can  do?"  she  repeatedly  inquired;  "com- 
mand me  without  compunction.  Is  it  any  use  giving  any  par- 
ties ?     Can  I  write  any  letters  ?     Can  I  sec  anybody  ?" 

"If  you  could  stir  up  my  lord  a  little  ?"  said  the  secre- 
tary inquiringly. 

""Well,  tliat  is  difficult,"  said  Lady  Montfort,  "perhaps 
impossible.  But  you  have  all  his  influence,  and  when  there  is 
a  point  that  presses  you  must  let  me  know." 

"  If  he  would  only  speak  to  his  agents  ?  "  said  the  secretary, 
**but  they  say  ho  will  not,  and  he  has  a  terrible  fellow  in 

shire,  who  I  hear  is  one  of  the  stewards  for  a  dinner  to 

Sir  Robert." 

"I  have  stopped  all  that,"  said  Lady  Montfort.  "That 
was  Odo's  doing,  who  is  himself  not  very  sound  ;  full  of  preju- 
dices about  O'Conncll,  and  all  that  stufT.  But  he  must  go 
with  his  party.     You  need  not  fear  about  him." 

""Well !  it  is  a  leap  in  the  dark,"  said  the  secretary. 

"Oh!  no,"  said  Lady  Montfort,  "all  will  go  right.  A 
starving  peojile  must  be  in  favor  of  a  government  who  will  give 
them  bread  for  nothing.  By  the  bye,  there  is  one  thing,  my 
dear  Mr.  Secretary,  you  must  remember.  I  must  have  one 
seat,  a  certain  seat,  reserved  for  my  nomination." 

"A  certain  seat  in  these  days  is  a  rare  gem,"  said  the  sec- 
retary. 

"Yes,  but  I  must  have  it  nevertheless,"  said  Lady  Mont- 
fort. "  I  don't  care  about  the  cost  or  the  trouble — but  it  must 
bo  certain." 

Then  she  went  home  and  wrote  a  line  to  Endymion,  to  tell 
liii  1  that  it  was  all  settled,  that  she  had  seen  his  sister,  who 
4igrv}ed  with  her  that  it  must  be  done,  and  that  she  had  called 


J 


a 


BIS^OLUTIOX. 


301 


on  the  Secretary  of  tlie  Tiva-ury,  tiiul  luitl  socurccl  accrtiiiii  seat. 
"I  Avisli  you  could  come  to  luncheon,"  she  added, "hut  I  sup- 
pose that  is  impossible  ;  you  are  always  so  busy.  Why  were 
you  not  in  the  Foreign  Olhce  ?  \  am  now  going  to  call  on  the 
Tory  women  to  sec  how  they  look,  l)ut  I  shall  be  at  home  a 
good  while  before  seven,  and  of  course  count  on  seeing  you." 

In  the  mean  time,  Endymion  by  no  means  shared  the  i)lea- 
surable  excitement  of  his  fair  friend.  His  Avas  an  agitated 
walk  from  the  Albany  to  AVhitehall,  where  he  resumed  his  duties 
moody  and  disquieted.  There  was  a  large  correspondence  this 
morning,  which  was  a  distraction  and  a  relief,  until  the  bell  of 
Mr.  Sidney  AVilton  sounded,  and  he  Avas  in  attendance  on  his 
chief. 

'*It  is  a  great  secret,"  said  Mr.  Wilton,  "but  I  think  I 
ought  to  tell  you  ;  instead  of  resigning,  the  government  have 
decided  to  dissolve.  I  think  it  a  mistake,  but  I  stand  by  my 
friends.  They  belieA'e  the  Irish  vote  will  be  very  large,  and 
with  cheap  bread  will  carry  us  through.  I  think  the  stronger 
Ave  shall  be  in  Ireland  the  AA'caker  aa'c  shall  be  in  England,  and  I 
doubt  Avhethcr  our  cheap  bread  Avill  be  cheap  enough.  These 
Manchester  associations  have  altered  the  aspect  of  affairs.  I 
have  been  thinking  a  good  deal  about  your  position.  I  should 
like,  before  we  broke  up,  to  have  seen  you  provided  for  by  some 
permanent  office  of  importance  in  which  you  might  have  been 
useful  to  the  state,  but  it  is  difficult  to  manage  these  things 
suddenly.  IIoAVCA'cr,  now  we  liaA'e  time  at  any  rate  to  look 
about  us.  Still  if  I  could  liaA'e  seen  you  permanently  attached 
to  this  office  in  a  responsible  position,  I  should  liaA'c  been  glad. 
I  impressed  upon  the  chief  yesterday  that  you  are  most  fit  for  it." 

"  Oh  !  do  not  think  of  me,  dear  sir  ;  you  Iuia'c  been  ahvays 
too  kind  to  me.  I  shall  be  content  Avitli  my  lot.  All  I  shall  re- 
gret is  ceasing  to  serA'c  j'ou." 

Lady  Montfort's  carriage  droA'e  up  to  Montfort  House  just 
as  Endymion  reached  the  door.  She  took  his  arm  Avitli  eager- 
ness ;  she  seemed  breathless  with  excitement.  "  I  fear  I  am 
Tcry  late,  but  if  you  had  gone  aAvay  I  should  never  have  par- 
doned you.  I  liaA'e  been  kept  by  listening  to  all  the  noAv  ap- 
pointments from  Lady  Bcllasyse.     They  quite  think  aa^c  are  out ; 


302 


ENDYMIOy. 


you  may  be  sure  I  did  not  deny  it.  I  luive  so  mucli  to  tell  you. 
Come  into  my  lord's  room  ;  he  is  away  fishing.  Think  of  fish- 
ing at  such  a  crisis  !  I  can  not  tell  you  how  pleased  I  was  with 
my  visit  to  Lady  Roehampton.  She  quite  agreed  with  me  in 
every  tiling.  ^  It  must  be  done/  she  said.  IIow  very  right ! 
and  I  have  almo.ft  done  it.  I  will  have  a  certain  seat ;  no 
chances.  Let  us  '.uive  something  to  fall  back  upon.  If  not  in 
oflice  we  shall  bj  in  opposition.  All  men  must  some  time  or 
other  be  in  opposition.  There  you  will  form  yourself.  It  is  a 
great  thing  to  have  had  some  otlicial  experience.  It  will  save 
you  from  mares'  nests,  and  I  will  give  parties  without  end,  and 
never  rest  till  I  see  you  prime  minister." 

So,  she  threw  herself  into  her  husband's  easy  chair,  tossed 
her  parasol  on  the  tal)lo,  and  the): .  ic  said,  '*Bnt  what  is  the 
matter  with  you,  Endymion  !  you  look  rpiite  sad.  You  do  not 
mean  you  really  take  our  defeat — Avhich  is  not  certain  yet — so 
much  to  heart.  Believe  me,  ojiposition  has  its  charms  ;  indeed 
I  sometimes  think  the  principal  reason  why  I  have  enjoyed  our 
ministerial  life  so  much  is,  that  it  has  been  from  the  first  a  per- 
petual struggle  for  existence." 

"  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  quite  indifferent  to  tJie  probably 
impending  change,"  said  Endymion,  '"'but  I  can  not  say  there 
is  anything  about  it  which  would  affect  my  feelings  very 
deeply." 

"  What  is  it  then  ?  " 

'*  It  is  this  business  about  which  you  and  Myra  are  so  kindly 
interesting  yourselves,"  said  Endymion,  with  some  emotion ; 
*'  I  do  not  think  I  could  go  into  Parliament." 

*'Not  go  into  Parliament!"  exclaimed  Lady  Montfort. 
"Why,  what  are  men  made  for  except  to  go  into  Parliament ! 
I  am  indeed  astounded." 

*'I  do  not  disparage  Parliament,"  said  Endymion  ;  "much 
the  reverse.  It  is  a  life  that  I  think  would  suit  me,  and  I  have 
often  thought  the  day  might  come — " 

"  The  day  has  come,"  said  Lady  Montfort,  "  and  not  a  bit 
too  soon.  Mr.  Fox  went  in  before  he  was  of  age,  and  all  young 
men  of  spirit  should  do  the  same.  Why,  you  are  two-and- 
twenty ! " 


PRUDENCE. 


303 


**lt  i.s  not  my  ago,'' said  Eiidyniioii,  lit'sitatingly  ;  "lam 
not  afraid  about  that,  for  from  the  life  Avliich  I  have  led  of  hite 
years,  I  know  a  good  deal  about  the  House  of  Commons." 

"Then  what  is  it,  dear  Eiidymion  ?"  said  Lady  Montfort 
impatiently. 

"  It  will  make  a  great  change  in  my  life,"  said  Endymion, 
calmly,  but  with  earnestness,  "and  one  wliich  T  do  not  feel 
justified  in  accepting." 

"I  repeat  to  you,  that  you  need  give  yourself  no  anxiety 
about  the  seat,"  said  Lady  Montfort.  "It  will  not  cost  you  .i 
shilling.  I  and  your  sister  have  arranged  all  that.  As  she 
very  wisely  said,  '  It  must  be  done,'  and  it  is  done.  All  you 
have  to  do  is  to  write  an  address  and  make  i)lcnty  of  speeches, 
and  you  are  M.  P.  for  life,  or  as  long  as  you  like." 

"Possibly;  a  parliamentary  adventurer  ;  I  might  swim  or 
I  might  sink  ;  the  chances  are  it  would  be  the  latter,  for  storms 
would  arise,  when  those  disappear  who  have  no  root  in  the 
country,  and  no  fortune  to  secure  them  breathing  time  and  a 
future." 

"Well,  I  did  not  expect,  when  you  handed  mo  out  of  my 
carriage  to-day,  that  I  was  going  to  listen  to  a  homily  on  pru- 
dence." 

"It  is  not  very  romantic,  I  own,"  said  Endymion,  "but 
my  prudence  is  at  any  rate  not  a  commonplace  caught  up 
from  copy-books,  I  am  only  two-and-twenty,  but  I  have  had 
some  experience,  and  it  has  been  very  bitter.  I  have  spoken 
to  you,  dearest  lady,  sometimes  of  my  earlier  life,  for  I  wished 
you  to  be  acquainted  with  it,  but  I  observed  also  you  always 
seemed  to  shrink  from  such  confidence,  and  I  ceased  from 
touching  on  what  I  saw  did  not  interest  you." 

"  Quite  a  mistake.  It  greatly  interested  me.  I  know  all 
about  you  and  everything.  I  know  you  were  not  always  a 
clerk  in  a  public  office,  but  the  spoiled  child  of  splendor.  I 
know  your  father  was  a  dear  good  man,  but  he  made  a  mistake, 
and  followed  the  Duke  of  Wellington  instead  of  Mr.  Canning. 
Had  he  not,  he  would  probably  be  alive  now,  and  certainly 
secretary  of  state,  like  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton.  But  you  must  not 
make  a  mistake,  Endymion.     My  business  in  life,  and  your 


3(14 


IJXDYMIOy. 


nistcr'.s  too,  is  to  ])revcnt  your  jiiakin;,'  inistiikc.^.  And  3-011  jiro 
on  the  cvo  of  nuikin;?  a  vcM-y  preiit  one  if  you  loso  this  golden 
oi)i)ort unity.  Do  not  think  of  tlio  jxist ;  you  dwell  on  it  too 
mueli.  15e  like  me,  live  in  the  present,  luid  when  you  dream, 
dream  of  the  future." 

"Ah  !  the  present  Avould  he  ade([uate,  it  would  he  faseina- 
tion,  if  I  always  had  sueh  iicom})anion  as  Lady  Montfort,"  said 
Endymion,  shaking  his  head.  "  What  surprises  me  most,  what 
indeed  astounds  me,  is  that  Myra  should  join  in  this  counsel — 
^[yra,  who  knows  all,  and  who  has  felt  it  perha})s  dee[)er  even 
than  I  did.  ]>ut  I  will  not  obtrude  these  thoughts  on  you, 
best  and  dearest  of  friends.  I  ought  not  to  have  made  to  you 
the  allusions  to  my  private  position  which  I  have  done,  but  it 
seemed  to  me  the  only  way  to  explain  my  conduct,  othcrwiso 
incxidicable." 

"  And  to  whom  ought  you  to  say  these  things  if  not  to 
me  ?"  said  Lady  Montfort,  *'  whom  you  called  just  now  your 
best  and  dearest  friend.  I  wish  to  be  such  to  you.  Perhajis  I 
have  been  too  eager,  but,  at  any  rate,  it  was  eagerness  for  your 
welfare.  Let  us  then  be  calm.  Speak  to  mo  as  you  would  tc 
]\ryra.     I  can  not  be  your  twin,  but  I  can  be  your  sister  in  feel- 


ing. 


j> 


ITc  took  her  hand  and  gently  pressed  it  to  his  lips  ;  his  eyes 
would  have  been  bedewed,  had  not  the  dreadful  sorrows  and 
trials  of  his  life  much  checked  his  native  susceptibility.  Then 
speaking  in  a  serious  tone,  he  said,  "  I  ai..  not  without  ambi- 
tion, dearest  Lady  Montfort ;  I  have  had  visions  Avhich  would 
satisfy  even  you  ;  but  partly  from  my  temperament,  still  more 
perhaps  from  the  vicissitudes  of  my  life,  I  have  considerable 
Avaiting  powers.  I  think  if  one  is  patient  and  watches,  all  will 
come  of  which  one  is  capable  ;  but  no  one  can  be  patient  Avho 
is  not  independent.  My  wants  arc  moderate,  but  their  fulfill- 
ment must  be  certain.  The  break-up  of  the  government,  which 
deprives  me  of  my  salary  as  a  private  secretary,  deprives  me  of 
luxuries  which  I  can  do  without — a  horse,  a  brougham,  a  stall 
at  the  play,  a  flower  in  my  button-hole — but  my  clerkship  is 
my  freehold.  As  long  as  I  possess  it,  I  can  study,  I  can  work, 
I  can  watch  and  comprehend  all  the  machinery  of  government. 


WA uiiUisiiA A';;  dklkhited. 


30.") 


I  can  move  in  society,  witliout  which  ii  })iiblic  man,  wlnitever 
his  talents  or  acfiuiremont.^,  is  in  life  phiying  at  blindman's 
hnlT.  I  must  sacrifice  this  citadel  of  my  life  if  I  go  into  Par- 
liament. Do  not  be  ofTended,  therefore,  if  I  say  to  you,  as  I 
shall  say  to  3Iyra,  I  have  made  up  my  mind  not  to  surrender 
it.  It  is  true  I  have  the  misfortune  to  be  a  year  older  tlian 
Charles  Fox  when  he  entered  the  senate,  but  even  with  this 
great  dif^ad vantage  I  am  sometimes  conceited  enough  to  believe 
that  I  tjhall  succeed,  and  to  back  mvself  ii'^iinsL  the.  iield.'' 


CIIAFIER  LXVIl. 


I 


« 


Mr.  Waldershare  was  delighted  when  the  great  secret 
Was  out,  and  he  found  that  the  ministry  intended  to  dissolve, 
and  not  resign.  It  was  on  a  ^Monday  that  Lord  John  Kussell 
made  this  announcement,  and  Waldershare  met  Endyniion  in 
the  lobby  of  the  House  of  Commons.  ''I  congratuhite  you, 
my  dear  boy  ;  your  fellows,  at  least,  have  pluck.  If  they  lose, 
which  I  think  tlicy  will,  they  will  have  gained  at  least  tlireo 
months  of  power,  and  irresponsible  poAver.  Why  !  they  inay 
do  anything  in  the  interval,  and  no  doubt  Avill.  You  will  see  ; 
they  will  make  their  chargers  consuls.  It  boats  the  Bed- 
Chamber  Plot,  and  I  alwavs  admired  that.  One  hundred 
days  !  Why,  the  Second  Empire  lasted  only  one  hundred  days. 
But,  what  days  !  Avhat  excitement !  They  were  worth  a  hun- 
dred 3'ears  at  Elba." 

"  Your  friends  do  not  seem  quite  so  pleased  as  you  are,"  said 
Endymion. 

*'  My  friends,  as  you  call  them,  arc  old  fogies,  and  want  to 
divide  the  spoil  among  the  ancient  hands.  It  will  be  a  great 
thing  for  Peel  to  get  rid  of  some  of  these  old  friends.  A  dis- 
solution permits  the  powerful  to  show  t\eir  power.  There  is 
Beaumaris,  for  example ;  now  he  will  have  an  opportunity  of 
letting  them  know  who  Lord  Beaumaris  is.  I  have  a  dream  ; 
he  must  be  Master  of  the  Horse.     I  shall  never  rest  till  I  see 


306 


ENDYMION'. 


i 


Imogcne  riding  in  that  golden  coach,  and  breaking  the  line 
with  all  the  honors  of  royalty. " 

'^Mr.  Ferrars,"  said  the  editor  of  a  newspaper,  seizing  his 
watched-for  opportunity  as  A\^aldershare  and  Endymion  sepa- 
rated, **do  you  think  you  could  favor  me  this  evening  with 
Mr.  Sidney  Wilton's  address  ?  "We  have  always  supported  Mr. 
Wilton's  views  on  the  Corn  Laws,  and  if  put  clearly  and  i">ower- 
fully  before  tlie  country  at  this  juncture,  the  effect  might  be 
groat,  perhaps  even,  if  sustained,  decisive." 

Eight-and-forty  hours  and  more  had  elapsed  since  the  con- 
versation between  Endymion  and  Lady  Montfort ;  they  had 
not  been  happy  days.  For  the  first  time  during  their  acquaint- 
ance there  had  been  constraint  and  embarrassment  between 
them.  Lady  Montfort  no  longer  opposed  his  views,  but  she 
did  not  approve  them.  She  avoided  the  subject ;  she  looked 
uninterested  in  all  that  was  going  on  around  her ;  talked  of 
joining  her  lord  and  going  a-fishing  ;  felt  he  was  right  in  his 
views  of  life.  "Dear  Simon  was  always  right,"  and  then  she 
sighed,  and  then  she  shrugged  her  very  pretty  shoulders.  En- 
dymion, though  he  called  on  her  as  usual,  found  there  was 
nothing  to  converse  about ;  politics  seemed  tacitly  forbidden, 
and  when  he  attempted  small  talk  Lady  Montfort  seemed  ab- 
sent— and  once  absolutely  yawned. 

What  amazed  Endymion  still  more  was,  that,  under  these 
rather  distressing  circumstances,  he  did  not  find  adequate  sup- 
port and  sympathy  in  his  sister.  Lady  Roeluimpton  did  not 
question  the  propriety  of  his  decision,  but  she  seemed  quite  as 
unhai)py  and  as  dissatisfied  as  Lady  Montfort. 

'"What  you  say,  dearest  Endymion,  is  quite  unanswerable, 
and  I  alone  perhaps  can  really  know  that ;  but  what  I  feel  is,  I 
have  failed  in  life.  My  dream  was  to  secure  you  greatness,  and 
now,  when  the  first  occasion  arrives,  it  seems  I  am  more  than 
powerless." 

"Dearest  sister  !  you  have  done  so  much  for  me." 

"Nothing,"  said  Lady  Roehampton ;  "what  I  have  done 
for  you  would  have  been  done  by  every  sister  in  this  metropolis. 
I  dreamed  of  other  things ;  I  fancied,  with  my  affection  and 
my  will,  I  could  command  events,  and  place  you  on  a  pinnacle. 


1 


FXBYMIOy  AFD  EIS  SISTER. 


307 


i 


I  see  my  folly  now  ;  others  have  controlled  your  life,  not  I — as 
was  most  natural ;  natural,  but  still  bitter." 

''Dearest  Myra ! " 

''It  is  so,  Endymion.  Let  us  deceive  ourselves  no  longer. 
I  ought  not  to  have  rested  until  you  were  in  a  position  which 
would  have  made  you  mastei*  of  your  destiny." 

"But  if  there  should  be  such  a  thing  as  destiny,  it  will  not 
submit  to  the  mastery  of  man." 

"Do  not  split  words  with  me;  you  know  what  I  mean; 
you  feel  what  I  mean  ;  I  mean  much  more  than  I  say,  and 
you  understand  much  more  than  I  say.  My  lord  told  mo  to 
ask  you  to  dine  with  us,  if  you  called,  but  I  will  not  ask  you. 
There  is  no  joy  in  meeting  at  present.  I  feel  as  I  felt  in  our 
last  year  at  Hurstley." 

"Oh  !  don't  say  that,  dear  Myra!"  and  Endymion  sprang 
forward  and  kissed  her  very  much.  "  Trust  me  ;  all  will  come 
right ;  a  little  patience,  and  all  will  come  right." 

"I  have  had  patience  enough  in  life,"  said  Lady  Roehamp- 
ton  ;  "  years  of  patience,  the  most  doleful,  the  most  dreary, 
the  most  dark  and  tragical.  And  I  bore  it  all,  and  I  bore  it 
well,  because  I  thought  of  you,  and  had  confidence  in  you, 
and  confidence  in  your  star  ;  and  because,  like  an  idiot,  I  had 
schooled  myself  to  believe  that,  if  I  devoted  my  will  to  you, 
that  star  would  triumph." 

So,  the  reader  will  see  that  our  hero  was  not  in  a  very 
serene  and  genial  mood  when  ho  was  buttonholed  by  the  edi- 
tor in  the  lobby,  and,  it  is  feared,  he  was  unusually  curt  with 
that  gentleman,  which  editors  do  not  like,  and  sometimes  re- 
ward with  a  leading  article  in  consequence,  on  the  character 
and  career  of  our  political  chief,  perhaps  with  some  passing 
reference  to  jacks-in-office,  and  the  suj^erficial  impertinence  of 
private  secretaries.  These  wise  and  amiable  speculators  on 
public  affairs  should,  however,  sometimes  charitably  remember 
that  even  ministers  have  their  chagrins,  and  that  the  trained 
temper  and  imperturbable  presence  of  mind  of  their  aides-de- 
camp are  not  absolutely  proof  to  all  the  infirmities  of  human 
nature. 

Endymion  had  returned  home  from  the  lobby,  depressed 


-50S 


EXD  YMIGX. 


tind  dispirited.  Tlie  last  incident  of  our  life  shapes  and  colors 
our  feelings.  Ever  since  he  bad  settled  in  London,  his  life 
might  he  said  to  have  hcen  happy,  gradually  and  greatly  pros- 
perous. The  devotion  of  his  sister  and  the  eminent  position 
she  had  achievcu,  the  friendship  of  Lady  Montfort,  and  the 
kindness  of  society,  who  had  received  him  with  open  arms, 
his  easy  circumstances  after  painful  narrowness  of  means,  his 
lionorable  and  interesting  position — these  had  been  the  chief 
among  many  other  causes  which  had  justly  rendered  Endymion 
Fcrrars  a  satisfied  and  contented  man.  And  it  was  more  than 
to  be  hoped  that  not  one  of  these  sources  would  be  wanting  in 
his  future.  And  yet  he  felt  dejected,  even  to  unhappiness.  Myra 
figured  to  his  painful  consciousness  only  as  deejily  wounded 
in  her  feelings,  and  he  somehow  the  cause  ;  Lady  Montfort, 
from  whom  he  had  never  received  anything  but  smiles  and 
inspiring  kindness,  and  witty  raillery,  and  alfectionate  solici- 
tude for  his  welfare,  offended  and  estranged.  And  as  for  soci- 
ety, perhaps  it  would  make  a  great  ditrercnce  in  his  position  if 
he  were  no  longer  a  private  secretary  to  a  cabinet  minister  and 
only  a  simple  clerk ;  he  could  not,  even  at  this  melancholy 
moment,  dwell  on  his  impending  loss  of  income,  though  that 
increase  at  the  time  had  occasioned  him,  and  those  Avho  loved 
him,  so  much  satisfaction.  And  yet  was  he  in  fault  ?  Had 
liis  decision  been  a  narrow-minded  and  craven  one  ?  He  could 
not  bring  himself  to  believe  so — his  conscience  assured  him 
-that  he  had  acted  rightly.  After  all  that  he  had  experienced 
lie  was  prepared  to  welcome  an  obscure,  but  could  not  endure  a 
humiliating,  position. 

It  Avas  a  long  summer  evening.  The  house  had  not  sat  after 
the  announcement  of  the  ministers.  The  twilight  lingered  Avitli 
t\  charm  almost  as  irresistible  as  among  woods  and  Avatcrs. 
JMidyniion  had  been  engaged  to  dine  out,  but  had  excused  him- 
eelf.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  Montfort  misunderstanding,  he 
would  have  gone  ;  but  that  haunted  him.  lie  had  not  called 
on  her  that  day  ;  he  really  had  not  courage  to  meet  her.  lie 
Tvas  beginning  to  think  that  ho  might  ne\'er  see  her  again  ; 
never,  certainly,  on  the  same  terms.  She  had  the  reputation 
of  being  capricious,  though  she  had  been  constant  in  her  kind- 


A  srnPRiSE. 


JjCD 


ness  to  liim.  Xcvcr  see  her  again,  or  only  see  her  chimged  ! 
lie  was  not  aware  of  the  fullness  of  Lis  misery  before,  llo 
was  not  aware,  until  this  moment,  that  unless  he  saw  her  every 
day  life  would  be  intolerable. 

lie  sat  down  at  his  table,  covered  with  notes  in  every  female 
handwriting  except  the  right  one,  and  with  cards  of  invitation 
to  banquets  and  balls  and  concerts,  and  "very  earlies,"  and 
carpet  dances — for  our  friend  Avas  a  very  fashionable  young  man 
— bat  what  is  the  use  of  even  being  fashionable,  if  the  person 
you  love  cares  for  you  no  more  ?  And  so  out  of  very  wanton- 
ness, instead  of  opening  notes  scaled  or  stamped  with  every 
form  of  coronet,  he  took  up  a  business-like  epistle,  closed  only 
with  a  wafer,  and  saying  in  drollery,  "I  should  think  a  dun," 
he  took  out  a  scrip  receipt  for  £20,000  Consols,  purchased 
that  morning  in  the  name  of  Endymion  Ferrars,  Esq.  It  was 
inclosed  in  half  a  sheet  of  note-paper,  on  which  were  written 
these  words,  in  a  handwriting  which  gave  no  clew  of  acquaint- 
anceship, or  even  sex  :  'Olind — you  are  to  send  me  your  first 
frank." 


CIIxVPTER  LXVIII. 

It  was  useless  to  ask  who  could  it  be  ?  It  could  only  bo 
one  person  ;  and  yet  how  could  it  have  been  managed  ?  So 
completely  and  so  promptly  !  Her  lord,  too,  away  ;  the  only 
being,  it  would  seem,  who  could  have  effected  for  her  such  a 
purpose,  and  he  the  last  individual  to  whom,  perhaps,  she 
would  have  applied.  Was  it  a  dream  ?  The  long  twilight 
was  dying  away,  and  it  dies  away  in  the  Albany  a  little  sooner 
than  it  does  in  Park  Lane  ;  and  so  he  lit  the  candles  on  his 
mantelpiece,  and  then  again  unfolded  the  document  carefully, 
and  read  it  and  reread  it.  It  was  not  a  dream.  He  held  in 
his  hand  firmly,  and  read  with  his  eyes  clearly,  the  evidence- 
that  he  was  the  uncontrolled  master  of  no  slight  amount  of 
capital,  and  which,  if  treated  with  prudence,  secured  to  him 
for  life  an  ab.^olute  and  becoming  independence.  His  heart 
beat  and  his  check  glowed. 


310 


ENDYMIOK 


3 


i  \ 


■\i 


What  a  woman  !  And  how  true  "were  Myra's  hist  words  to 
Ilurstley,  that  women  would  be  his  best  friends  in  life  !  He 
ceased  to  think  ;  and,  dropping  into  his  chair,  fell  into  a  rev- 
erie, in  which  the  past  and  the  future  seemed  to  blend,  with 
some  mingling  of  a  Tague  and  almost  ecstatic  present.  I„  was 
a  dream  of  fair  women,  and  even  fairer  thoughts  ;  domestic 
tenderness  and  romantic  love,  mixed  up  with  strange  vicissi- 
tudes of  lofty  and  fiery  action,  and  passionate  passages  of  elo- 
quence and  power.  The  clock  struck  and  roused  him  from  his 
musing.  He  fell  from  the  clouds.  Could  he  accept  this  boon  ? 
Was  his  doing  so  consistent  with  that  principle  of  indeiten- 
dence  on  which  he  had  resolved  to  build  up  his  life  ?  The 
boon  thus  conferred  might  be  recalled  and  returned  ;  not 
legally  indeed,  but  by  a  stronger  influence  than  any  law — the 
consciousness  on  his  part  that  the  feeling  of  interest  in  his  life 
which  had  prompted  it  might  change — would,  must  change. 
It  was  the  romantic  impulse  of  a  young  and  fascinating  woman, 
who  had  been  to  him  invariably  kind,  but  who  had  a  rejiuta- 
tion  for  caprice,  which  was  not  unknown  to  him.  It  was  a 
wild  and  beautiful  adventure  ;  but  only  that. 

He  walked  up  and  down  his  rooms  for  a  long  time,  some- 
times thinking,  sometimes  merely  musing  ;  sometimes  in  a 
pleased  but  gently  agitated  state  of  almost  unconsciousness. 
At  last  he  sat  down  at  his  writing-table,  and  wrote  for  some 
time  ;  and  then  directing  the  letter  to  the  Countess  of  Mont- 
fort,  he  resolved  to  change  the  current  of  his  thoughts,  and 
went  to  a  club. 

Morning  is  not  romantic.  Romance  is  the  twilight  spell ; 
but  morn  is  bright  and  joyous,  prompt  with  action,  and  full 
of  sanguine  hope.  Life  has  few  difficulties  in  the  morning,  at 
least  none  which  we  can  not  conquer  ;  and  a  private  secretary 
to  a  minister,  young  and  prosperous,  at  his  first  meal,  sur- 
rounded by  dry  toast,  all  the  newspapers,  and  files  of  corre- 
spondence, asking  and  promising  everything,  feels  with  pride 
and  delight  the  sense  of  powerful  and  responsible  existence. 
Endymion  had  glanced  at  all  the  leading  articles,  had  sorted  in 
the  correspondence  the  grain  from  the  chaff,  and  had  settled 
in  his  mind  those  who  must  be  answered  and  those  who  must 


CONUNDRUMS. 


311 


be  seen.  The  strange  incident  of  last  night  was  of  course  not 
forgotten,  but  removed,  as  it  "were,  from  his  consciousness  in 
the  bustle  and  pressure  of  active  life,  when  his  servant  brought 
him  a  letter  in  a  handwriting  he  knew  right  well.  lie  would 
not  open  it  till  ho  was  alone,  and  then  it  was  with  a  beating 
heart  and  a  burning  cheek. 

Lady  Moxtfort's  Letter. 

''  What  is  it  all  about  ?  and  what  does  it  all  mean  ?  I  should 
have  thought  some  great  calamity  had  occurred  if,  however  dis- 
tressing, it  did  not  appear  in  some  sense  to  be  gratifying.  What 
is  gratifying  ?  You  deal  in  conundrums,  which  I  never  could 
find  out.  Of  course  I  shrll  be  at  home  to  you  at  any  time,  if 
you  wish  to  see  me.  Pray  come  on  at  once,  as  I  detest  mysteries. 
I  went  to  the  play  last  night  with  your  sister.  We  both  of  us 
rather  expected  to  see  you,  but  it  seems  neither  of  us  had  men- 
tioned to  you  we  were  going.  I  did  not,  for  I  was  too  low-spir- 
ited about  your  affairs.  You  lost  nothing.  The  piece  was  stu- 
pid beyond  expression.  We  laughed  heartily,  at  least  I  did,  to 
show  we  were  not  afraid.  My  lord  came  home  last  night,  sud- 
denly. Odo  is  going  to  stand  for  the  county,  and  his  borough 
is  vacant.  What  an  opportunity  it  would  have  been  for  you  !  a 
certain  seat.  But  I  care  for  no  boroughs  now.  My  lord  \n\\ 
want  you  to  dine  with  him  to-day ;  I  hope  you  can  come.  Per- 
haps he  will  not  be  able  to  see  you  this  morning,  as  his  agent 
will  bo  with  him  about  these  elections.     Adieu  ! " 


If  Lady  Montfort  did  not  like  conundrums,  she  had  succeed- 
ed, however,  in  sending  one  sufficiently  perplexing  to  Endym- 
ion.  Could  it  be  possible  that  the  writer  of  this  letter  was  the 
unknown  benefactress  of  the  preceding  eve  ?  Lady  Montfort 
was  not  a  mystifier.  Her  nature  was  singularly  frank  and  fear- 
less, and  when  Endymion  told  her  everything  that  had  occurred, 
and  gave  her  the  document  which  originally  he  had  meant  to 
bring  with  him  in  order  to  return  it,  her  amazcin'  ^.t  and  her  joy 
were  equal. 

''I  wish  I  had  sent  it," said  Lady  Montfort, ''but  that  was 
impossible.     I  do  not  care  who  did  send  it  j  I  have  no  fomab 


312 


endymion: 


curiosit\  except  about  matters  which,  by  knowledge,  I  may  iii- 
fluenc.  This  is  finislicd.  You  arc  free.  You  can  not  hesitate 
as  to  your  course.  I  never  could  speak  to  you  again  if  you  did 
hesitate.  Stop  here,  and  I  will  go  to  my  lord.  This  is  a  great 
day.  If  we  can  only  settle  to-day  that  you  shall  bo  tlie  candi- 
date for  our  borough,  I  really  shall  not  much  care  for  the  change 
of  ministry." 

Lady  Alontfort  was  a  long  time  away.  Endymion  would 
have  liked  to  have  gone  forth  on  his  alTairs,  but  she  had  im- 
pressed upon  him  so  earnestly  to  wait  for  her  return  that  he  felt 
he  could  not  retire.  The  room  Avas  one  to  which  he  Avas  not 
unaccustomed,  otherwise  its  contents  would  not  have  been  un- 
interesting ;  her  portrait  by  more  than  one  great  master,  a  minia- 
ture of  her  husband  in  a  Venetian  dress  upon  her  writing  table 
— a  table  which  wonderfully  indicated  alike  the  lady  of  fashion 
and  the  lady  of  business,  for  there  seemed  to  be  no  form  in 
which  paper  could  be  folded  and  emblazoned  Avhicli  was  there 
wanting  ;  quires  of  letter  paper,  and  note  paper,  and  notelet 
paper,  from  dispatches  of  state  to  billet-doux,  all  were  ready ; 
great  covers  with  arm?  and  supporters,  more  moderate  ones  with 
"Berengaria"  in  letters  of  glittering  fancy,  and  the  destined 
shells  of  diminutive  effusions  marked  only  with  a  golden  bee. 
There  was  anotlier  tabic  covered  Avith  trinkets  and  precious  toys  : 
snuff-boxes  and  patch-boxes  beautifully  painted,  exquisite  min- 
iatures, rare  fans,  cups  of  agate,  birds  glittering  Avith  gems 
almost  as  radiant  as  the  tropic  plumage  they  imitated,  Avild 
animals  cut  out  of  ivory,  or  foimed  of  fantastic  pearls — all 
the  spoils  of  queens  and  royal  mistresses. 

Upon  the  Avails  Avere  drawings  of  her  various  homes  ;  that 
of  her  childhood,  as  aa'cII  as  of  the  hearths  she  ruled  and  loA'ed. 
There  were  a  fcAV  portraits  on  the  Avails  also  of  those  Avliom  she 
ranked  as  her  particular  friends.  Lord  Roehampton  Avas  one, 
another  was  the  Count  of  Ferroll. 

Tim:^  Avent  on ;  on  a  little  table,  by  the  side  of  evidently 
her  favorite  chair,  Avas  a  book  she  had  been  reading.  It  Avas  a 
German  tale  of  fame,  and  Endymion,  dropping  into  her  seat, 
became  interested  in  a  A'olume  Avhich  hitherto  he  had  never 
seen,  but  of  AA'hich  he  had  heard  much. 


LISAPPOINTMEXT. 


31.'J 


Perluips  lie  had  been  reading  for  some  time  ;  there  wa.-;  a 
sound,  lie  started  and  looked  up,  and  then  springing  from  his 
chair,  he  said,  "Something  has  hapjiened  !" 

Lady  Montfort  was  quite  pale  and  the  expression  of  her 
countenance  distressed,  but  when  he  said  these  words  she  tried 
to  smile,  and  said,  "Xo,  no,  nothing,  nothing — at  least  no- 
thing to  distress  you.  i\Iy  lord  hopes  you  will  bo  able  to  dine 
with  him  to-day,  and  tell  him  all  the  news."  And  then  sho 
threw  herself  into  a  chair  and  sighed.  "  I  should  like  to  have  i\. 
good  cry,  as  the  servants  say,  but  I  never  could  cry.  I  will  tell 
you  all  about  it  in  a  moment.     You  were  very  good  not  to  go." 

It  seems  that  Lady  Montfort  saAv  her  lord  before  the  agent, 
who  was  waiting,  had  had  his  interview,  and  the  o})portunity 
being  in  every  way  favorable,  she  felt  the  way  about  obtaining 
his  cousin's  seat  for  Endymion.  Lord  Montfort  quite  cm- 
braced  the  proposal.  It  had  never  occurred  to  him.  lie  had 
no  idea  that  Ferrars  contemplated  Parliament.  It  Avas  a  cap- 
ital idea.  lie  could  not  bear  reading  the  Parliament  reports, 
and  yet  he  liked  to  know  a  little  of  what  was  going  en.  Now, 
when  anything  happened  of  interest,  he  should  have  it  all  from 
the  fountain  head.  "And  you  must  tell  him,  Berengaria,"  he 
continued,  "  that  he  can  come  and  dine  here  whenever  he  likes, 
in  boots.  It  is  a  settled  thing  that  M.  P.s  may  dine  in  boots. 
I  think  it  a  most  capital  plan.  Besides,  I  know  it  will  please 
you.     You  will  have  your  own  member." 

Then  he  rang  the  bell,  and  begged  Lady  Montfort  to  re- 
main and  see  the  agent.  Nothing  like  the  present  time  for 
business.  They  would  make  all  the  arrangements  at  once,  and 
he  would  ask  the  agent  to  dine  with  them  to-day,  and  so  meet 
Mr.  Ferrars. 

So  the  agent  entered,  and  it  was  all  explained  to  him,  calm- 
ly and  clearly,  briefly  by  my  lord,  but  with  fervent  amplifica- 
tion by  his  charming  wife.  The  agent  several  times  attempted 
to  make  a  remark,  but  for  some  time  he  was  unsuccessful ; 
Lady  Montfort  was  so  anxious  that  he  should  know  all  about 
Mr.  Ferrars,  the  most  rising  young  man  of  the  day,  the  son  of 
the  late  Right  Honorable  William  Pitt  Ferrars,  who,  had  he 
not  died,  would  probably  have  been  prime  minister,  and  so  on. 

14 


I 

n 


314 


EXD  YMIOX. 


*■'■  Mr.  Feivars  seems  to  be  everytliing  wg  could  wish,"  said 
the  iigent,  *'and  as  yjii  say,  my  lady,  thougli  he  is  young,  so 
M'ns  Mr.  Pitt,  and  I  have  little  doubt,  after  what  you  say,  my 
lady,  that  it  is  very  likely  he  will  in  time  become  as  eminent. 
But  what  I  came  up  to  town  jiarticularly  to  impress  upon  my 
lord  is,  that  if  Mr.  Odo  will  not  stand  again,  we  are  in  a  very 
great  difficulty." 

**  Difficulty  about  what  ?  "  said  Lady  Montfort,  impatiently. 

"  Well,  my  lady,  if  Mr.  Odo  stands,  there  is  great  respect 
for  him.  The  other  side  would  not  disturb  him.  lie  has  teen 
member  for  some  years,  and  my  lord  has  been  very  liberal. 
But  the  truth  is,  if  Mr.  Odo  does  not  stand,  we  can  not  com- 
mand the  seat." 

''Not  command  the  seat.!  Then  our  interest  must  have 
been  terribly  neglected." 

*'I  hope  not,  my  lady,"  said  the  agent.  ''The  fact  is,  the 
property  is  against  us." 

"  I  thought  it  was  all  my  lord's." 

"No,  my  lady,  the  strong  interest  in  the^borough  is  my 
Lord  Beaumaris.  It  used  to  be  about  equal,  but  all  the  new 
buildings  are  in  Lord  Beaumaris's  part  of  the  borough.  It 
would  not  have  signified  if  things  had  remained  as  in  the  old 
days.  The  grandfather  of  the  present  lord  was  a  Whig,  and 
always  supported  the  Montforts,  but  that's  all  changed.  The 
present  earl  has  gone  over  to  the  other  side,  and  I  hear  is  very 
strong  in  his  views." 

Lady  ^Montfort  had  to  communicate  all  this  to  Endymion. 
"You  will  meet  the  agent  at  dinner,  but  he  did  not  give  me  a 
ray  of  hope.  Go  now  ;  indeed,  I  have  kept  you  too  long.  I 
am  so  stricken  that  I  can  scarcely  command  my  senses.  Only 
think  of  our  borough  being  stolen  from  us  by  Lord  Beaumaris  ! 
I  have  brought  you  no  luck,  Endymion  ;  I  have  done  you  no- 
thing but  mischief ;  I  am  miserable.  If  you  had  attached  your- 
self to  Lady  Beaumaris,  you  might  have  been  a  member  of 
Parliament." 


!"l  . 


WALDERSUAUB  AND   TADPOLE. 


315 


CHAPTER   LXIX. 


. 


\ 


In  the  mean  time,  the  great  news  being  no  h)ngcr  a  secret, 
tlie  utmost  excitement  prevaik'd  in  tlie  wnrld  of  politics.  The 
Tories  had  tpiitc  made  up  tlieir  minds  tliat  the  ministry  wouhl 
liavc  resigned,  and  were  sanguine,  under  sucli  circumstances, 
of  the  result.  The  Parliament,  which  tl;o  ministry  was  going 
to  dissolve,  was  one  which  had  been  elected  by  their  counsel 
and  under  their  auspices.  It  was  unusual,  almost  unconstitu- 
tional, thus  to  terminate  the  body  they  had  created.  Never- 
theless, the  Whigs,  never  too  delicate  in  such  matters,  thought 
they  had  a  chance,  and  determined  not  to  lose  it.  One  thing 
they  immediately  succeeded  in,  and  that  was,  frightening  their 
opponents.  A  dissolution  with  the  Tories  in  opposition  was 
not  jdeasant  to  that  party,  but  a  dissolution  with  a  cry  of 
cheap  bread  amid  a  partially  starving  popuhition,  was  not  ex- 
actly the  conjuncture  of  providential  circumstances  which  had 
long  been  watched  and  wished  for,  and  clierished  and  coddled, 
and  proclaimed  and  promised,  by  the  energetic  army  of  Con- 
servative wire-pullers. 

Mr.  Tadpole  was  very  restless  at  the  crowded  Carlton,  speak- 
ing to  every  on^^,  unhesitatingly  answering  every  question,  alike 
cajoling  and  dictatorial,  and  yet,  all  the  time,  watching  the 
door  of  the  morning  room  with  unquiet  anxiety. 

"  They  will  never  be  able  to  get  up  the  steam.  Sir  Thomas, 
the  Chartists  are  against  them.  The  Chartists  will  never  sub- 
mit to  anything  that  is  cheap.  In  spite  of  their  wild  fancies, 
they  are  real  John  Bulls.  I  beg  your  })ardon,  but  I  see  a 
gentleman  I  must  speak  to,"  and  he  rushed  toward  the  door 
as  Waldershare  entered. 

''Well,  what  is  your  news? "asked  ^Fr.  Tadpole,  affecting 
unconcern. 

'*I  come  here  for  news,"  said  Waldershare.  ''This  is  my 
Academus,  and  you.  Tadpole,  are  my  Plato." 

"  Well,  if  you  want  the  words  of  a  wise  man,  listen  to  me. 
If  I  had  a  great  friend,  which  Mr.  Waldershare  probably  has, 


31G 


EX DY MI  OX. 


^v^l()  wants  ji  great  place,  these  ai'o  times  in  which  sucli  a  man 
should  sliow  his  power." 

"  I  liave  a  great  friend  whom  I  wish  to  have  a  great  phiee," 
said  Wahlersluiro,  "and  I  tliink  lie  is  <[uito  ready  to  show  his 
j)()AVt'r,  if  he  knew  exactly  how  to  exercise  it." 

"  What  I  am  saying  to  you  is  not  known  to  a  single  person 
ill  this  room,  and  to  only  one  out  of  it,  but  you  may  depend 
u})on  what  T  say.  Lord  Mont  fort's  cousin  retires  from  North- 
hdioiigh  to  sit  for  the  county.  They  think  they  can  nominate 
liis  .•  iiecessor  as  a  matter  of  C(nirse.  A  delusion  ;  your  friend 
Lord  Beaumaris  can  command  the  scat." 

'•  Well,  I  think  you  can  depend  on  Beaumaris,"  said  AValdcr- 
share,  much  interested. 

"I  depend  upon  you,''  taid  Mr.  Tadpole  with  a  glance  of 
afTectionatc  credulity.  ''The  party  already  owes  you  much. 
This  will  be  a  croAvning  service."' 

'•'Beaumaris  is  rather  a  (pieer  man  to  deal  with,"  said  Wal- 
dersliare  ;  "he  requires  gentle  handling." 

'"'  All  the  v>'orld  says  he  consults  you  on  everything." 

'"All  the  world,  as  usual,  is  Avrcmg,"  said  "Wakbrsharo. 
''Lord  Pieaumaris  consults  no  one  except  Lady  Beaumaris." 

"  \Ve!l  then  we  sliall  C.o,'"  rejoined  ]\Ir.  Tadpole  trium- 
plumtly.  *'  Our  man  that  I  wimt  him  to  return  is  a  connec- 
tion ol;  Lady  Beaumaris,  a  ^h\  Iiodney,  very  anxious  to  get  into 
Parliament,  and  rich.  I  do  not  know  who  he  is  exactly,  but  it 
is  a  good  name  ;  say  a  cousin  of  Lord  Rodney  until  the  election 
is  over,  and  then  they  may  settle  it  as  they  like." 

"A  Mr.  I'odne}',"  said  "Waldcrshare  musingly;  "vrell,  \i  I 
hear  anything  I  Avill  let  you  know.  I  suppose  you  are  in  pretty 
good  spirits  ?" 

"I  should  like  a  little  sunshine.  A  cold  sm'in'x,  and  now  a 
wot  summer,  and  the  certainty  of  a  shocking  harvest  combined 
with  manufacturing  distress  spreading  daily  is  not  pleasant, 
but  the  English  are  a  discriminating  people.  They  will  hardly 
persuade  them  that  Sir  Robert  has  occasioned  the  bad  harvests." 

"The  present  men  arc  clearly  responsible  for  all  that," 
said  "Waldershare. 

There  Avas  a  reception  at  Lady  Rocliampton's  this  evening. 


i 


S 


F.xDYMiox  Axn  nioonxic. 


31T 


J> 


I 


4 


L'lg. 


Very  few  Tories  tittcndcd  it,  l)ut  T.ady  neiiuniaris  was  tlicrc. 
She  never  1(,.  t  an  opportutiity  of  .showing  by  licr  })rcscnee  Iiow 
grateful  she  was  to  ^fyra  for  the  kindness  wliieh  liad  greeted 
Iniogenc  when  she  first  entered  .-ociety.  Kndymion,  as  was 
Ids  custom  when  the  oi)portunity  offered,  rather  hung  about 
Lady  Beaumaris.  Slic  always  welcomed  him  with  unalfected 
cordiality  and  evident  pleasure.  He  talked  to  her,  and  then 
gave  way  to  others,  and  then  came  and  talked  to  her  again, 
and  then  ho  proposed  to  take  her  to  have  a  cup  of  tea,  and  she 
assented  to  the  proposal  with  a  l)rig]itening  eye  and  a  bewitch- 
ing smile. 

"I  suppose  your  friends  are  viry  triunii)hant,  Lady  Beau- 
maris ?  "  said  Endymion. 

"Yes;  they  naturally  are  very  excited.  I  confess  I  am 
not  myself." 

"But  you  ought  to  be,"  said  Endymion,  "you  will  have 
iin  immense  position.  I  should  think  Lord  Beaumaris  would 
have  anv  oflico  he  cliose,  and  vour<  will  be  the  chief  house  of 
the  ]iarty." 

"  I  do  not  know  that  Lord  ]^>eauniaris  would  care  to  have 
oOlce,  and  I  hardly  think  any  otlieo  would  suit  him.  As  for 
myself,  I  am  obliged  to  be  ambitious,  but  1  have  no  ambition, 
or  rather  I  would  say,  I  think  I  was  happier  when  we  all 
seemed  to  be  on  the  same  side." 

"Well,  those  were  happy  days,"  said  Endymion,  "and 
these  arc  happy  days.  And  few  things  make  me  happier  than 
to  see  Lady  Beaumaris  admired  and  appreciated  by  every  one." 

"  I  wish  you  would  not  call  mo  Lady  Beaumaris.  That 
may  be,  and  indeed  perhaps  is,  nece-sary  in  society,  but  when 
we  arc  alone,  I  prefer  l)eing  called  by  a  name  Avhicli  once  you 
always  and  kindly  used." 

"  I  shall  always  love  the  name,"  said  Endymion,  "and,"  he 
added  "with  some  hesitation,  "shall  alwavs  love  her  who  bears 
it." 

She  involuntarily  pressed  Ids  arm,  though  very  slightly  ;  and 
then  in  rather  a  hushed  and  hurried  tone  she  said,  "  They 
were  talking  about  von  at  dinner  to-dav.     I  fear  this  change 

Oft/  •-  O 

of  government,  if  there  is  to  be  one,  will  be  injurious  to  you — 


? 


318 


EXD  vmoy. 


']  .'I 


lo.iliig  your  private  secretary  ship  to  Mr.  Wilton,  iuul  perluipa 
other  tilings  ?" 

"Fortune  of  war,"  said  Sndymion,  "we  must  bear  these 
hai>s.  But  the  truth  k,  I  think  it  not  unlikely  there  may  be 
a  eliangc  in  my  life  which  may  bo  incompatible  witli  retaining 
my  secretaryship  under  any  circumstances." 

"You  arc  not  going  to  be  married  ?"  she  said  quickly. 

"  Not  the  slightest  idea  of  such  an  event." 

"You  are  too  young  to  marry." 

"  Well,  I  am  older  than  you." 

"Yes;  but  men  and  women  are  different  in  that  .natter. 
Besides,  you  have  too  many  fair  friends  to  marry,  at  least  at 
present.     What  would  Lady  Roehampton  say  ?  " 

"Well,  I  have  sometimes  thought  my  sister  wished  mc  to 
marry." 

"But  then  there  are  others  who  are  not  sisters,  but  who 
are  e<[ually  interested  in  your  welfare,"  said  Lady  Beaumaris 
looking  up  into  his  face  with  her  wondrous  eyes,  but  the  lashes 
were  so  long,  that  it  Avas  impossible  to  decide  whether  the 
glance  was  an  anxious  one  or  one  half  of  mockery. 

"  Well,  I  do  not  think  I  shall  ever  marry,"  said  Endymion. 
"The  change  in  my  life  I  was  alluding  to  is  one  by  no  means 
of  a  romantic  character.  I  have  some  thoughts  of  trying  my 
luck  on  the  husting-;,  and  getting  into  Parliament." 

"That  would  be  delightful,"  said  Lady  Beaumaris.  "Do 
you  know  that  it  has  been  one  of  my  dreams;  that  you  should 
be  in  Parliament  ?  " 

"All  I  dearest  Imogene,  for  you  said  I  might  call  you  Imo- 
gene,  you  must  take  care  what  you  say.  Remember  we  are 
unhappily  in  different  camps.  You  must  not  wish  me  success 
in  my  enterprise ;  quite  the  reverse ;  it  is  more  than  probable 
that  you  will  have  to  exert  all  your  influence  against  me  ;  yes, 
canvass  against  me  and  wear  hostile  ribbons,  and  use  all  your 
irresistible  charms  to  array  electors  against  me,  or  to  detach 
them  from  my  ranks." 

"Even  in  jest,  you  ought  not  to  say  such  things,"  said 
Lady  Beaumaris. 

"  But  I  am  not  in  jest,  I  am  in  dreadful  earnest.    Only  this 


.1 


^ 


I 


LAUV  MOXTFOUrS  CIlAliACTEli. 


iJll) 


.1 


s 


moriiiii!/  r  was  ofTorcd  ti  scat,  wliicli  tliov  told  mc  was  sccuiv  ; 
but  wIk'Ii  I  iii([uiretl  into  all  the  circum.stancc^,  I  found  the 
interest  of  Lord  Beaiunariri  so  great,  that  it  would  he  folly  for 
mc  to  attempt  it." 

*•  What  .seat  ?  "  iii(|uired  Lady  Beaumaris  in  a  low  tone. 

**  Xorthhorough,''  said  Pindymion,  "  now  held  l»y  Lord  Mont- 
fort's  cousin,  who  is  to  come  in  for  his  county-.  The  seat  was 
offered  to  mc,  and  I  was  told  1  \\^%  to  be  returned  without  op- 
position." 

*'Lady  ^lontfort  offered  it  to  you  ?"  asked  Tmogene. 

"She  interested  herself  for  me,  and  Lord  ^lontfort  a[)- 
jiroved  the  suggestion.  It  was  descril)cd  to  mc  as  a  family 
scat,  hut  Avhcn  I  looked  into  the  matter,  I  found  that  Lord 
Beaumaris  was  more  powerful  than  Lord  Montfort." 

''I  thought  that  Lady  Montfort  was  irresistible,"  said  Lno- 
gcne  ;  *'  she  carries  all  before  her  in  society." 

'•  Society  and  politics  have  much  to  do  with  each  other,  but 
they  are  not  identical.  \\\  the  present  case,  Lady  Montfort  is 
powerless." 

"And  have  you  formally  abandoned  the  scat  ? "  inrpiircd 
Lady  Beaumaris. 

"Not  formally  abandoned  it ;  that  was  not  necessary,  but 
I  have  dismissed  it  from  my  mind,  and  for  some  time  have 
been  trying  to  find  anotlier  scat,  but  hitherto  without  success. 
In  short  in.  these  days  it  m  no  longer  possible  to  step  into  Par- 
liament as  if  \<'»u  Averc  stepping  into  a  club." 

"  If  I  could  do  anything,  however  little  r "  said  Imogene. 
"Perhaps  Lady  Montfort  would  not  like  me  to  interfere  ?" 

"Why  not?" 

"Oh  !  I  do  not  know,"  and  then  after  some  hesitation  slie 
added,  "Is  she  jealous  ?" 

"Jealous  !  why  should  she  be  jealous  ?" 

"  Perhaps  she  has  had  no  cause." 

"  You  know  Lady  Montfort.  She  is  a  woman  of  quick  and 
brilliant  feeling,  the  best  of  friends  and  a  dauntless  foe.  Her 
kindness  to  me  from  the  first  moment  I  made  her  acquaintance 
has  been  inexpressible,  and  I  sincerely  believe  she  is  most 
anxious  to  serve  me.     But  our  party  is  not  very  popular  at 


?>20 


EXDYMIOX. 


present;  tlierc  is  no  doubt  llio  coiuitry  is  against  us.  It  is 
tired  of  us.  I  feci  myself  the  general  election  will  be  disas- 
trous. Liberal  seats  arc  not  abundant  just  now,  quite  the 
reverse,  and  though  Lady  Montfort  has  done  more  than  any 
one  could  under  the  circumstances,  I  feel  persuaded,  though 
you  think  her  irresistible,  she  will  not  succeed." 

"I  hardly  know  her,"  said  Imogene.  ''The  world  consid- 
ers her  irresistible,  and  I  think  you  do.  Nevertheless,  I  wish 
she  could  have  had  her  way  in  this  matter,  and  I  think  it  quite  a 
pity  tliat  Xortliborough  has  turned  out  not  to  be  a  family  seat." 


11! 

i'i 


CHAPTER   LXX. 

There  was  a  dinner-party  at  Mr.  Ncuchatel's,  to  which 
none  were  asked  but  the  high  government  clique.  It  was  the 
last  dinner  before  the  dissolution  :  ''  The  dinner  of  consola- 
tion, or  hope,"  said  Lord  Roehampton.  Lady  Montfort  was  to 
"be  one  of  the  guests.  She  was  dressed,  and  her  carriage  in  the 
court-yard,  and  she  had  just  gone  in  to  sec  her  lord  before  she 
departed. 

Lord  Montfort  was  extremely  fond  of  jewels,  and  held  that 
jou  could  not  see  them  to  advantage,  or  fairly  judge  of  their 
water  or  color,  except  on  a  beautiful  woman.  "When  his  wife 
was  in  grand  toilet,  and  he  was  under  the  same  roof,  he  liked 
her  to  call  on  him  in  her  way  to  her  carriage  that  ho  might  see 
her  flashing  rivieres  and  tiaras,  the  luster  of  her  huge  pearls 
and  the  splendor  of  her  emeralds  and  sapphires  and  rubies. 

"Well,  Bcrengaria,"  he  said  in  a  playful  tone,  *'3'ou  look 
divine.  Xever  dine  out  again  in  a  high  dress.  It  distresses 
me.  Bertolini  was  the  only  man  who  ever  caught  the  tournure 
of  your  shoulders,  and  yet  I  am  not  altogether  satisfied  with 
his  work.  So,  j^ou  are  going  to  dine  with  that  good  Neucha- 
tel.  Remember  me  kindly  to  him.  There  arc  few  men  I  like 
better.  lie  is  so  sensible,  knows  so  much,  and  so  much  of 
ivhat  is  going  on.  I  should  have  liked  very  much  to  have 
dined  with  him,  but  he  is  awtire  of  mv  unfortunate  state.     lie- 


Ir 


.w 


I 


^ 


'f 


BERENGAHLVS  LORD. 


o.OI 


sidc>,  my  dear,  if  I  were  bettor  I  sliould  not  have  .-(rengtli  for 
liis  dinners.  They  are  really  banquets  ;  I  can  not  .stand  those 
ortolans  stuffed  Avith  truffles  and  those  truffles  stuffed  with 
ortolans.  Perhaps  lie  will  come  and  dine  witli  us  some  day  off 
a  joint." 

"  The  Queen  of  ^Mesopotamia  will  be  here  next  week,  Simon, 
and  we  must  really  give  her  what  you  call  a  joint,  and  then 
we  can  ask  the  Ncuchatels  and  a  few  other  people." 

''I  was  in  hopes  the  dissolution  would  have  carried  evcr}'- 
bodv  awav,"  said  Lord  Montfort,  rather  Avofullv.  ''I  wish 
the  Queen  of  Mesopotamia  were  a  candidate  for  some  borougli ; 
1  think  she  would  rather  like  it." 

''  Well,  we  could  not  return  her,  Simon  ;  do  not  touch  on 
the  subject.     But  what  have  you  got  to  amuse  you  to-day  ?  " 

''Oh!  I  shall  do  very  well.  I  have  got  the  head  of  the 
French  detective  police  to  dine  with  me,  and  another  man  or 
two.  Besides,  1  have  got  here  a  most  amusing  book,  '  Topsy 
Turvy  ;'  it  comes  out  in  numbers.  I  like  books  that  come 
out  in  numbers,  as  there  is  a  little  suspense,  and  you  can  not 
de])rive  yourself  of  all  interest  by  glancing  at  the  last  page  of 
the  last  volume.  I  think  you  must  read  '  Topsy  Turvy,'  Beren- 
garia.  I  am  mistaken  if  you  do  not  hear  of  it.  It  is  very 
cynical,  which  authors,  who  know  a  little  of  the  world,  are  apt 
to  be,  and  everything  is  exaggerated,  which  is  another  of  their 
faults  Avhcn  they  are  only  a  trifle  acquainted  with  manners. 
A  little  knowledge  of  the  world  is  a  verv  dansferous  thinir,  cs- 
])ecially  in  literature.  But  it  is  clever,  and  the  man  writes  a 
ca])ital  style  ;  and  stjde  is  everything,  especially  in  fiction." 

"And  what  is  the  name  of  the  writer,  Simon  ?  " 

''  You  never  heard  of  it ;  I  never  did  ;  but  my  secietary, 
who  lives  much  in  Bohemia,  and  is  a  member  of  the  Cosmo- 
politan and  knows  everything,  tells  me  he  has  written  some 
things  before,  but  they  did  not  succeed,  llis  name  is  St.  Barl)o. 
I  should  like  to  ask  him  to  dinner  if  I  knew  how  to  cet  at  him." 

''"Well,  adieu!  Simon,"  and,  with  an  agitated  heart, 
though,  apparent  calmness,  she  touched  his  forehead  with  her 
lips.     "I  expect  an  unsatisfactory  dinner." 

"  Adieu  !  and  if  you  meet  poor  Fcrrars,  which  I  dare  say 


322 


EXDYMIOX. 


fi 


you  will,  tell  him  to  kcci)  up  his  spirits.  The  world  is  a  wheel, 
and  it  will  all  come  round  right." 

The  dinner  ought  not  to  have  been  unsatisfactory,  for 
though  there  was  no  novelty  among  the  guests,  they  were  all 
clever  and  distinguished  persons  and  united  by  entire  sympa- 
thy. Several  of  the  ministers  were  there,  and  the  Koehamp- 
tons,  and  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton,  and  Endymion  was  also  a  guest. 
But  the  general  tone  was  a  little  affected  and  unnatural ;  forced 
gaycty,  and  a  levity  which  displeased  Lady  Montfort,  who 
fancied  she  was  unhai^py  because  the  country  was  going  to  be 
ruined,  but  whose  real  cause  of  dissatisfaction  at  the  bottom 
of  her  heart  was  the  affair  of  'Hhe  family  seat."  Her  hero. 
Lord  Roehampton,  particularly  did  not  please  her  to-day. 
She  thorgl^t  him  flippant  and  in  bad  taste,  merely  because  he 
would  not  iuok  dismal  and  talk  gloomily. 

" I  think  we  shall  do  very  avcII,"  he  said.  "What  cry  can 
be  better  than  that  of  cheap  bread  ?  It  gives  one  an  appetite 
at  once." 

*'But  the  Corn-Law  League  says  your  bread  will  not  be 
cheap,"  said  Melchior  Neuchatel. 

**I  wonder  whether  the  League  has  really  any  power  in  the 
constituencies,"  said  Lord  Eoehampton.  *'I  doubt  it.  They 
may  have  in  time,  but  then  in  the  interval  trade  Avill  revive.  I 
have  just  been  reading  Mr.  Thornberry's  speech.  We  shall 
hear  more  of  that  man.  You  will  not  be  troubled  about  any 
of  your  seats  ?"  -  o  ^:uid,  in  a  lower  tone  of  sympathv,  address- 
ing Mrs.  Neudi.n. J.  who  was  his  immediate  neighbor. 


(I 


Our  scats?"'  ;-;)  1  Mrs.  Neuchatel,  as  if  waking  from  a 
dream.  '*0h,  I  know  nothing  about  them,  nor  do  I  under- 
stand why  there  is  a  dissolution.  I  trust  that  Parliament  will 
not  be  dissolved  without  voting  the  money  for  the  observation 
of  the  transit  of  Venus." 

*'I  think  the  Roman  Catholic  vote  will  carry  us  through," 
said  a  minister. 

'* Talking  of  Roman  Catholics,"  said  Mr.  Wilton,  "is  it 
true  that  Pcnruddock  has  gone  over  to  Rome  ?  " 

"No  truth  in  it,"  replied  a  colleague.  "He  has  gone  to 
Rome — there  is  no  doubt  of  that,  and  he  has  been  there  some 


■^ 


GOOD    WISHES. 


lie 


ili> 


!•> 


it 


•I 


1 


time,  but  only  for  distraction.  He  luicl  overworked  liini- 
self." 

"  He  might  have  been  a  Dean  if  he  had  been  a  practical 
man,"  whispered  Lady  Montfort  to  Mr.  Neuchatel,  "and  on 
the  high  road  to  a  bishopric." 

'*  That  is  what  we  want.  Lady  Montfort,"  said  Mr.  Neu- 
chatel ;  **  we  want  a  few  practical  men.  If  we  had  a  practical 
man  as  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  we  should  not  have  been 
in  the  scrape  in  which  we  now  are." 

''  It  is  not  likely  that  Penruddoek  will  leave  the  Church 
with  a  change  of  government  possibly  impending.  We  could 
do  nothing  for  him  with  his  views,  but  he  will  wait  for  Peel." 

"Oh  !  Peel  will  never  stand  those  high-flyers.  lie  put  the 
Church  into  a  Lay  Commission  during  his  last  government." 

"  Penruddoek  will  never  give  up  Anglicanism  while  there 
is  a  chance  of  becoming  a  Laud.  When  that  chance  vanishes, 
trust  my  word,  Penruddoek  will  make  his  boAv  to  the  Vati- 
can." 

"Well,  I  must  say,"  said  Lord  Roehampton,  "if  I  Avere  a 
clergyman  I  should  be  a  Roman  Catholic. " 

"  Then  you  could  not  marry.  What  a  compliment  to  Lady 
Roehampton  ! " 

"Nay;  it  is  because  I  could  not  marry  that  I  am  not  a 
clergyman." 

Endymion  had  taken  Adriana  down  to  dinner.  She  looked 
very  well,  and  was  more  talkative  than  usual. 

"I  fear  it  will  be  a  very  great  confusion — this  general  elec- 
tion," she  said.  "Papa  was  telling  us  that  you  think  of  being 
u  candidate. " 

"I  am  a  candidate,  but  without  a  seat  to  captivate  at  pres- 
ent," said  Endymion  ;  "but  I  am  not  without  hopes  of  making 
some  a?*rangement." 

"  Well,  you  must  tell  me  what  your  colors  are." 

"And  will  you  wear  them  ?" 

"Most  certainly  ;  and  I  will  work  you  a  banner  if  you  be 
victorious." 

"I  think  I  must  win  with  such  a  prospect." 

"I  hope  you  will  win  in  everything." 


324 


EXDYMIOX. 


I 


When  the  ladies  retired,  Bcrcngiiria  came  and  sat  by  the 
eide  of  Lady  Roeliampton. 

"  What  a  dreary  dinner  I "  slie  said. 

*'Do  you  think  so?" 

''Well,  perhaps  it  Avas  my  own  fault.  Perhaps  I  am  not  in 
good  cue,  but  everything  seems  to  me  to  go  wrong." 

** Things  sometimes  do  go  wrong,  but  then  they  get  right." 

"Well,  I  do  not  think  anything  Avill  ever  get  right  with 
me." 

*'  Dear  Lady  ^lontfort,  how  can  you  say  such  things  !  You 
who  have,  and  have  always  liad,  the  world  at  your  feet — and 
always  will  have." 

"  I  do  not  know  wliat  you  mean  by  having  the  world  at  my 
feet.  It  seems  to  me  I  have  no  power  whatever — I  can  do  no- 
thing. I  am  vexed  about  this  business  of  your  brother.  Our 
people  are  so  stupid.  They  have  no  resource.  When  I  go  to 
them  and  ask  for  a  seat  I  expect  a  seat,  as  I  would  a  shawl  at 
Howell  and  James'  if  I  asked  for  one.  Instead  of  that  they 
only  make  difficulties.  What  our  party  wants  is  a  Mr.  Tad- 
pole ;  he  out-mana}uvre3  them  in  every  corner." 

*'Well,  I  shall  be  deeply  disappointed — deeply  pained," 
said  Lady  Roeliampton,  *'if  Endymion  is  not  in  this  Parlia- 
ment, but  if  we  fail  I  will  not  utterly  despair.  I  will  continue 
to  do  what  I  have  done  all  my  life,  exert  my  utmost  Avill  and 
poAver  to  advance  him." 

*'I  thought  I  had  Avill  and  power,"  said  Lady  Montfort, 
**but  the  conceit  is  taken  out  of  me.  Your  brother  was  to  me 
a  source  of  great  interest,  from  the  first  moment  that  I  kncAV 
him.  Ilis  future  Avas  an  object  in  life,  and  I  thought  I  could 
mold  it.  What  a  mistake  !  Instead  of  making  his  fortune  I 
IiaA'C  only  dissipated  his  life." 

*' You  liaA'o  been  to  him  the  kindest  and  the  most  A'aluable 
of  friends,  and  he  feels  it." 

**  It  is  no  use  being  kind,  and  I  am  valuable  to  no  one.  I 
<iLt<3n  think  if  I  disappeared  to-morrow  no  one  would  miss 
me. " 

"You  are  in  a  morbid  mood,  dear  lady.  To-morroAv  per- 
h;)ps  everything  Avill  be  right,  and  then  you  Avill  feel  that  you 


t' 


It;  : 


A  FAMILY  EXGAGEMEXT. 


325 


are  surroumled  by  devoted  fi'ends,  and  by  ti  Imsband  who 
adores  you." 

Lady  Moiitfort  gave  a  scrutinizing  glance  at  Lady  Roe- 
hampton  as  slic  said  this,  then  shook  her  head.  ''Ah  !  tlicre 
it  is,  dear  Myra.  You  judge  from  your  own  happiness  ;  you 
do  not  know  Lord  Montfort.  You  know  liow  T  love  liini,  but 
I  am  perfectly  convinced  lie  prefers  my  letters  to  my  so- 
ciety." 

"  You  sec  what  it  is  to  bo  a  Madame  do  Sevigne,"  said  Lady 
Roehampton,  trying  to  give  a  i)]iiyful  tone  to  the  conversation. 

"  You  jest,"'  said  Lady  Montfort ;  "  I  am  rpiite  serious.  No 
one  can  deceive  me  ;  would  that  thev  could  !  I  have  the  fatal 
gift  of  reading  persons,  and  penetrating  motives,  however  deep 
or  complicated  their  character,  and  what  I  tell  you  about  Lord 
Montfort  is  unhappily  too  true." 

In  the  mean  time,  while  this  interesting  conversation  was 
taking  place,  the  gentleman  who  had  been  the  object  of  Lady 
Montfort's  culogium,  the  gentleman  Avho  always  out-manceu- 
vrcd  her  friends  in  every  corner,  was,  though  it  Avas  ai)i)roach- 
ing  midnight,  walking  up  and  down  Carlton  Terrace  with  an 
agitated  and  indignant  countenance,  and  not  alone. 

"  I  tell  you,  Mr.  Waldershare,  I  know  it ;  I  liavo  it  almost 
from  Lord  Beaumaris  himself ;  he  has  declined  to  support  our 
man,  and  no  doubt  will  give  his  influence  to  the  enemy." 

*'I  do  not  believe  that  Lord  Beaunu^ris  has  made  any  en- 
gagement whatever. " 

**A  pretty  state  of  affairs,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Tadpole.  **I 
do  not  know  what  the  world  has  come  to.  Here  are  gentlemen 
expecting  high  places  in  the  Household,  and  under-secretary- 
ships  of  state,  and  actually  giving  away  our  seats  to  our  oppo- 
nents." 

**  There  is  some  family  engagement  about  this  seat  between 
the  Houses  of  Beaumaris  and  Montfort,  and  Lord  Beaumaris, 
who  is  a  young  man,  and  who  does  not  know  as  much  about 
these  things  as  you  and  I  do,  naturally  wants  not  to  make  a 
mistake.  But  he  has  promised  nothing  and  nobody.  I  knoAv, 
I  might  almost  say  I  saw  the  letter,  that  he  wrote  to  Lord 
Montfort  this  day,  asking  for  an  interview  to-morroAV  morning 


32G 


END  )\]fI0y. 


on  the  matter,  and  Lord  Montfort  has  given  him  an  appoint- 
ment for  to-morrow.     This  I  know." 

"Well,  I  must  leave  it  to  you,"  said  Mr.  Tadpole.  "You 
must  remember  what  we  are  fighting  for.  The  constitution  is 
at  stake." 

"And  the  Church,"  said  TValdershare. 

"  And  the  landed  interest,  you  may  rely  upon  it,"  said  Mr. 
Tadpole. 

''And  your  Lordship  of  the  Treasury  in  ])Osse  Tadpole. 
Truly  it  is  a  great  stake." 


I 


-\  t 


ihi 


CHAPTER  LXXL 

The  intcrvicAv  between  the  heads  of  the  two  great  houses 
of  Montfort  and  Beaumaris,  on  which  the  fate  of  a  ministry 
might  depend,  for  it  should  always  be  recollected,  that  it  was 
only  by  a  majority  of  one  that  Sir  Robert  Peel  had  necessitated 
the  dissolution  of  Parliament,  was  not  carried  on  exactly  in  the 
spirit  and  with  the  means  Avliich  would  have  occurred  to  and 
been  practiced  by  the  race  of  Tadpoles  and  Tapers. 

Lord  Beaumaris  was  a  very  young  man,  handsome,  extreme- 
ly shy,  and  one  who  had  only  very  recently  mixed  with  the 
circle  in  which  he  was  born.  It  was  under  the  influence  of 
Imogene  that,  in  soliciting  an  interview  with  Lord  Montfort, 
he  had  taken  for  him  an  unusual,  not  to  say  unprecedented 
step.  He  had  conjured  up  to  himself  in  Lord  Montfort  the 
apparition  of  a  haughty  Whig  peer,  proud  of  his  order,  prouder 
of  his  party,  and  not  over-prejudiced  in  favor  of  one  who  had 
quitted  those  sacred  ranks,  freezing  witl)  arrogant  reserve  and 
condescending  politeness.  In  short.  Lord  Beaumaris  was  ex- 
tremely nervous  when,  ushered  by  many  servants  through  many 
chambers,  there  came  forward  to  receive  him  the  most  sweetly 
mannered  gentleman  alive,  who  not  only  gave  him  his  hand, 
but  retained  his  guest's,  saying,  "  We  are  a  sort  of  cousins,  I 
believe,  and  ought  to  have  been  acquainted  before,  but  you 
know,  perhaps,  my  wretched  state,"  though  what  that  was 


A   MUTUAL  AOREEMEN-T. 


327 


V 


nobody  exactly  did  know,  particularly  as  Lord  Montl'ort  was 
sometimes  seen  wading  in  streams  breast-high  while  throwing 
his  skillful  line  over  the  rushing  waters.  '•  I  remember  your 
grandfather,"  he  said,  '"'and  with  good  cause.  He  pouched  me 
at  Harrow,  and  it  was  the  largest  pouch  I  ever  had.  One  does 
not  forget  the  first  time  one  had  a  five-pound  note." 

And  then  when  Lord  Beaumaris,  blushing  and  with  much 
hesitation,  had  stated  the  occasion  of  his  asking  for  the  inter- 
view, that  they  might  settle  together  about  the  representation 
vt  Northborough  in  harmony  with  the  old  understanding  bo- 
tween  the  families  which  he  trusted  would  always  bo  main- 
tained. Lord  Montfort  assured  him  that  he  was  personally 
obliged  to  him  by  his  always  supporting  Odo,  regretted  that 
Odo  would  retire,  and  then  said  if  Lord  Beaumaris  had  any 
brother,  cousin,  or  friend  to  bring  forward,  he  need  hardly  say 
Lord  Beaumaris  might  count  upon  him.  "  I  am  a  Whig,"  he 
continued,  ''and  so  was  your  father,  bat  I  am  not  particularly 
pleased  with  the  sayings  and  doings  of  my  people.  Between 
ourselves,  I  think  thoy  have  been  in  a  little  too  long,  and  if 
they  do  anything  very  strong,  if,  for  instance,  they  give  office 
to  O'Connell,  I  should  not  be  at  all  surprised  if  I  were  myself 
to  sit  on  the  cross  benches." 

It  seems  there  was  no  member  of  the  Beaumaris  family  who 
wished  at  this  juncture  to  come  forward,  and  being  assured  of 
this.  Lord  Montfort  remarked  there  was  a  young  man  of 
l)romise  who  much  wished  to  enter  the  House  of  Commons, 
not  unknown  he  believed  to  Lord  Beaumaris,  and  that  was 
Mr.  Ferrars.  He  was  the  son  of  a  distinguished  man,  now  de- 
parted, who  in  liis  day  had  been  a  minister  of  state.  Lord 
Montfort  was  quite  ready  to  support  Mr.  Ferrars,  if  Lord  Beau- 
maris approved  of  the  selection,  but  he  placed  himself  entirely 
in  his  hands. 

Lord  Beaumaris,  blushing,  said  he  quite  approved  of  the 
selection  ;  knew  Mr.  Ferrars  very  well,  and  liked  him  very 
much ;  and  if  Lord  Montfort  sanctioned  it,  would  speak  to 
Mr.  Ferrars  himself.  He  believed  Mr.  Ferrars  was  a  Liberal, 
but  he  agreed  with  Lord  Montfort,  that  in  these  days  gentle- 
men must  be  all  of  the  same  opinion  if  not  on  the  same  side, 


".1*1 


323 


j:xdymiox. 


l! 


:|i 


and  so  on.  And  tlicn  tlicy  tiilkod  of  fisliing  appropriately  to 
a  book  of  very  curious  flies  that  was  on  the  tabic,  and  they 
agreed  if  possible  to  fish  together  in  some  famous  waters  that 
Lord  Beaumaris  had  in  Hampshire,  and  then,  as  he  was  saying 
farewell,  Lord  Montfort  added,  '^'Although  I  never  pay  visits, 
because  really  in  my  wretched  state  I  can  not,  there  is  no  rea- 
son Avhy  our  wives  should  not  know  each  other.  Will  you  per- 
mit Lady  Montfort  to  have  the  honor  of  paying  her  respects  to 
Lady  Beaumaris  ?  " 

Talleyrand  or  Metternich  could  not  have  conducted  an  in- 
tervicAv  more  skillfully.  But  these  were  just  the  things  that 
Lord  Montfort  did  not  dislike  doing,  llis  great  good  nature 
was  not  disturbed  by  a  single  inconvenient  circumstance,  and 
he  enjoyed  the  sense  of  his  adroitness. 

The  same  day  the  cards  of  Lord  and  Lady  Montfort  Avero 
sent  to  Piccadilly  Terrace,  and  on  the  next  day  the  cards  of 
Lord  and  Lady  Beaumaris  were  returned  to  Montfort  House. 
And  on  the  following  day.  Lady  Montfort,  accompanied  by 
Lady  Roehampton,  would  find  Lady  Beaumaris  at  home,  and 
after  a  charming  visit  in  which  Lady  Montfort,  though  natural 
to  the  last  degree,  displayed  every  quality  which  could  fasci- 
nate even  a  woman,  when  she  put  her  hand  in  that  of  Imogcne 
to  say  farewell,  added,  "I  am  delighted  to  find  that  wc  ;"-o 
cousins.'' 

A  few  days  after  this  interview.  Parliament  was  dissolved. 
It  was  the  middle  of  a  wet  June,  and  the  season  received  its 
coup  de  (jfdce.  Although  Endymion  had  no  rival,  and  ap- 
parently no  prospect  of  a  contest,  his  labors  as  a  candidate 
were  noc  slight.  The  constituency  was  numerous,  and  every 
member  of  it  expected  to  be  called  upon.  To  each  Mr.  Fer- 
rars  had  to  expound  his  political  views,  and  to  receive  from 
each  a  cordial  assurance  or  a  churlish  criticism.  All  this  he 
did  and  endured,  accompanied  by  about  fifty  of  the  principal 
inhabitants,  members  of  his  committee,  who  insisted  on  never 
leaving  his  side,  and  prompting  him  at  every  new  door  which 
lie  entered  with  contradictory  reports  of  the  political  opinions 
of  the  indAvellers,  or  confidential  intimations  how  they  were  to 
be  managed  and  addressed. 


ilt 


JX  PARLIAMFXT. 


329 


i^y 


The  i)rincip;il  and  most  laborious  incidents  of  the  day  wcro 
fosiivuld  Avhich  they  styled  luncheons,  when  the  candidate  and 
the  anihuhitory  committee  were  quartered  on  some  principal 
citize!!  with  an  elaborate  banquet  of  several  courses,  and  in 
whicli  Mr.  J'errars'  health  was  always  pledged  in  sjjarkling 
bumpers.  After  the  luncheon  came  two  or  three  more  hours 
of  what  Avas  called  canvassing ;  then  in  a  state  of  horrible  re- 
pletion, the  fortunate  candidate,  who  had  no  contest,  had  to 
dine  with  another  principal  citizen,  with  real  turtle  sou]),  and 
gigantic  turbots,  entrees  in  the  phapc  of  volcanic  curries,  and 
rigid  venison,  sent  as  a  compliment  by  a  neighboring  peer. 
This  last  ceremony  was  necessarily  hurried,  as  Endymion  had 
every  night  to  address  in  some  ward  a  body  of  the  electors. 

"When  this  had  been  eo'ng  on  for  a  few  days,  the  borough 
was  suddenly  placarded  .vlth  posting  bills  in  colossal  characters 
of  true  blue,  warning  the  conservative  electors  not  to  promise 
their  votes,  as  a  distinguished  candidate  of  the  right  sort  would 
certainly  come  forAvard.  At  the  same  time  there  was  a  para- 
graph in  a  local  journal  that  a  member  of  a  noble  family,  illus- 
triou  in  the  naval  annals  of  the  country,  Avould,  if  sutllciently 
supported,  solicit  the  suifrages  of  the  independent  electors. 

"  We  think  by  the  allusion  to  the  navy,  that  it  must  be  Mr. 
Hood  of  Acreley,"  said  Lord  Beaumaris's  agent  to  !Mr.  Ferrars, 
"but  he  has  not  the  ghost  of  a  chance.  I  Avill  ride  over  and 
see  him  in  the  course  of  the  day." 

This  placard  was  of  course  Mr.  Tadpole's  last  ciTort,  but 
that  Avorthy  gentleman  soon  forgot  his  mortification  about 
Northborough  in  the  general  triumph  of  his  party.  The  Whigs 
Averc  noAvliere,  though  Mr.  Fcrrars  was  returned  Avithout  op- 
position, and  in  the  month  of  August,  still  Avondering  at  the 
rapid,  strange,  and  CA'cn  mysterious  incidents  that  had  so  sud- 
denly and  so  swiftly  changed  his  position  and  prospects  in  life, 
took  his  seat  in  that  house  in  Avhose  galleries  he  h.id  so  long 
humbly  attended  as  the  private  secretary  of  a  cabinet  minister. 

His  friends  Avere  still  in  office,  though  the  country  had  sent 
up  a  majority  of  ninety  against  them,  and  Endymion  took  his 
seat  behind  the  Treasury  bench,  and  exactly  behind  Lord  Roe- 
hamptun.     The  debate  on  the  address  Ava3  protracted  for  three 


330 


EXDYMION. 


I 


nights,  aii'l  then  they  diviclccl  ni  three  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
anil  then  v\\  was  over.  Lord  Roehampton,  wlio  hatl  vindicated 
the  ministry  with  admirable  vigor  and  felicity,  turned  round 
to  Endymion,  and,  smiling,  said  in  the  sweetest  tone,  '*  I  did 
not  enlarge  on  our  greatest  fe.'it,  namely,  that  we  had  governed 
the  country  for  two  years  without  a  majority.  Peel  would 
never  have  had  the  pluck  to  do  that." 

Notwithstanding  the  backslidings  of  Lord  Beaumaris  and 
the  unprincipled  conduct  of  Mr.  Waldershare,  they  were  both 
rewarded  as  the  latter  gentleman  projected — Lord  Beaumaris 
accepted  a  high  post  in  the  Household  and  ]\[r.  AValdersharo 
was  appointed  Under  Secretary  of  State  for  Foreign  Affairs. 
Tadpole  was  a  little  ghim  about  it,  but  it  was  inevitable.  ''  Tho 
fact  is,"  as  the  world  agreed,  "  Lady  Beaumaris  is  the  only 
Tory  woman.     They  have  nobody  wlio  can  receive  except  her." 

The  changes  in  the  House  of  Commons  were  still  greater 
than  those  in  the  administration.  Never  were  so  many  new 
members,  and  Endymion  watched  them  during  the  first  days, 
and  before  the  debate  on  the  address,  taking  the  oaths  at  the 
table  in  batches  with  much  interest.  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine  was 
returned,  and  his  brother,  Mr.  Tremaine  Bertie.  Job  Thorn- 
berry  was  member  for  a  manufacturing  town,  with  which  he 
was  not  otherwise  connected.  Ilortensius  was  successful,  and 
Mr.  Vigo  for  a  metropolitan  borough,  but  Avhat  pleased  Endym- 
ion more  than  anything  was  tho  return  of  his  valued  friend, 
Trenchard,  who  a  short  time  before  had  acceded  to  the  paternal 
estate  ;  all  these  gentlemen  were  Liberals,  and  were  destined  to 
sit  on  the  same  side  of  the  House  as  Endymion. 

After  the  fatal  vote,  the  Whigs  all  left  town.  Society  in 
general  had  been  previously  greatly  dispersed,  but  Parliament 
had  to  remain  sitting  until  October. 

*'  We  are  going  to  Princedown,"  Lady  Montfort  said  one 
day  to  Endymion,  ''and  we  had  counted  on  seeing  you  there, 
but  I  have  been  thinking  much  of  your  position  since,  and  I 
am  persuaded  that  we  must  sacrifice  pleasure  to  higher  objects. 
This  is  really  a  crisis  in  your  life,  and  much,  perhaps  every- 
thing, depends  on  your  not  making  a  mistake  now.  What  I 
want  to  see  you  is  a  great  statesman.     This  is  a  political  econ- 


LADY  MONTl'ORT'S  PLAXS. 


331 


)) 


omy  Parliaincut,  both  sides  alike  tliiiiklug  of  the  price  of  com 
aiul  all  that.  Finance  and  commerce  are  everybody's  subjects, 
and  are  most  convenient  to  make  speeches  about  for  men  who 
can  not  speak  French  and  who  have  had  no  education.  Keal 
politics  are  the  possession  and  distribution  of  power.  I  want 
to  see  you  give  your  mind  to  foreign  affairs.  There  you  will 
have  no  rivals.  There  arc  a  great  many  subjects  which  Lord 
Koehampton  can  not  take  up,  but  which  you  could  very  prop- 
erly, and  you  will  have  always  the  benefit  of  his  counsel,  and, 
wJien  necessary,  his  parliamentary  assistance  ;  but  foreign  af- 
fairs are  not  to  be  mastered  by  mere  reading.  Bookworms  do 
not  make  chancellors  of  state.  You  must  become  acquainted 
Avith  the  great  actors  in  the  great  scene.  There  is  nothing  like 
personal  knowledge  of  the  individuals  who  control  the  high 
affairs.  That  has  made  the  fortune  of  Lord  Roehampton. 
What  I  think  you  ought  to  do,  without  doubt  ought  to  do,  is 
to  take  advantage  of  this  long  interval  before  the  meeting  of 
Parliament,  and  go  to  Paris.  Paris  is  noAv  the  capital  of  di- 
plomacy. It  is  not  the  best  time  of  the  year  to  go  there,  but 
you  will  meet  a  great  many  peojile  of  the  diplomatic  world,  and 
if  the  opportunity  offers,  you  can  vary  the  scene,  and  go  to 
some  baths  which  princes  and  ministers  frequent.  The  Count 
of  Ferroll  is  now  at  Paris,  and  minister  for  liis  court.  You 
know  him  ;  that  is  well.  But  he  is  my  greatest  friend,  and, 
as  you  know,  we  habitually  corrcsjiond.  lie  will  do  everything 
for  you,  I  am  sure,  for  my  sake.  It  is  noi  pleasant  to  be  sep- 
arated ;  I  do  not  wish  to  conceal  that ;  I  should  have  enjoyed 
your  society  at  Princedown,  but  I  am  doing  right,  and  you  will 
some  day  thank  me  for  it.  We  must  soften  the  pang  of  sepa- 
ration by  writing  to  each  other  every  day,  so  when  we  meet 
again  it  will  only  be  as  if  we  had  parted  yesterday.  Besides, 
who  knows  ?  I  may  run  over  myself  to  Paris  in  the  winter. 
My  lord  always  liked  Paris ;  the  only  place  he  ever  did,  but  I 
am  not  very  sanguine  he  will  go  ;  he  is  so  afraid  of  being  asked 
to  dinner  by  our  ambassador." 


332  ^'^V/)  YMIUX. 


CIIAPTEIl   LXXir. 

In"  (ill  livO"!,  tlio  liiglicst  1111(1  llio  liuniblesl:,  there  is  a  crisis  in 
the  formation  of  cluinictcr,  Jiiid  in  the  l)eiit  of  the  disposition. 
It  comes  from  many  causes,  and  from  some  -which  on  the  sur- 
face are  ajiparently  even  trivial.  It  may  be  a  hook  a  spcccli, 
a  sermon  ;  a  man  or  a  Avoman  ;  a  great  misfortune,  or  a  burst 
of  prosi)erity.  But  the  result  is  the  same  ;  a  sudden  revelation 
to  ourselves  of  our  secret  purpose,  and  a  recognition  of  our 
perliaps  long-shadowed,  but  now  masterful,  convictions. 

A  crisis  of  this  kind  occurred  to  Endymion  the  day  wlien 
he  returned  to  his  chambers,  after  having  taken  the  oatlis  and 
his  scat  in  the  House  of  Commons.  He  felt  the  necessity  of 
being  alone.  For  nearly  the  last  three  months  he  had  been  the 
excited  actor  in  a  strange  and  even  mvsterioiis  drama.  There 
had  bee'  "or  him  no  time  to  reflect ;  all  he  could  aim  at  was  to 
nomprt  "•,  and  if  possible  control,  the  present  and  urgent 
contingency ;  he  had  been  called  upon  almost  unceasingl\%  to 
do,  or  to  say,  something  sudden  and  unexpected  ;  and  it  Avas 
only  now,  Avhen  the  crest  of  tho  ascent  had  been  reached,  that 
lie  could  look  around  him  and  consider  the  new  world  opening 
to  his  gaze. 

The  greatest  opportunity  that  can  be  olTered  to  an  English- 
man was  noAV  his — a  seat  in  the  House  of  Commons.  It  was 
his  almost  in  the  first  bloom  of  youth,  and  3'ct  after  advanta- 
geous years  of  labor  and  political  training,  and  it  was  combined 
with  a  material  independence  on  which  he  never  could  have 
counted.  A  love  of  power,  a  passion  for  distinction,  a  noble 
pride,  which  had  been  native  to  his  early  disposition,  but  Avliich 
had  apparently  been  crushed  by  the  enormous  sorrows  and  mis- 
fortunes of  his  childhood,  and  which  had  vanished,  as  it  Avere, 
before  the  sAveetness  of  that  domestic  Ioa'C  Avhich  had  been  tho 
solace  of  his  adA'ersity,  now  again  stirred  their  dim  and  mighty 
forms  in  his  renovated,  and,  as  it  were,  inspired  consciousness. 
*'  If  this  has  happened  at  twenty-two,"  thought  Endymion, 
*' what  may  not  occur  if  the  aA'crage  life  of  man  bo  allotted  to 
me  ?    At  any  rate,  I  Avill  never  think  of  anything  else.     I  have 


i.::,:_ 


AT  PAIilS. 


a  purpose  in  life,  and  I  will  I'lillill  it.  It  is  ii  cluinn  that  its 
at'Com]ilisliineiit  would  be  the  mo.st  p:rak'ful  result  to  the  two 
hein.L,'H  I  most  love  in  the  world." 

So  when  Lady  Montfort  shortly  after  ojieiied  her  views  to 
Endyniion  as  to  his  visiting'  Paris,  iind  his  purpose  in  so  doinir, 
the  seeds  were  thrown  on  a  willin^^  soil,  and  he  embraeed  her 
counsels  Avith  the  c -epest  interest.  His  intimacy  with  tliL? 
Count  of  Ferroll  was  iic  completing  event  of  this  epoch  of  his 
life. 

Their  acquaintance  had  been  slight  in  England,  for  after 
the  ]\Iontfort  Tournament  the  count  had  been  appointed  to 
Paris,  where  lie  was  required  ;  but  he  received  Endymion  with 
a  cordiality  which  contrasted  with  his  usual  demeanor,  which, 
tliough  frank,  was  somewhat  cynical. 

"This  is  not  a  favorable  time  to  visit  Paris,"  he  said,  *'.so 
far  as  society  is  concerned.  There  is  some  business  stirring  in 
the  diplomatic  world,  which  has  reassembled  the  fraternity  for 
the  moment,  and  the  King  is  at  St.  Cloud,  but  you  may  make 
some  acquaintances  which  may  be  desirable,  and  at  any  rato 
look  about  you  and  clear  the  ground  for  the  coming  season.  I 
do  not  despair  of  our  dear  friend  coming  over  in  the  winter. 
It  is  one  of  the  hopes  that  keep  me  alive.  What  a  woman  ! 
You  may  count  yourself  fortunate  in  having  such  a  friend.  I 
do.  I  am  not  particularly  fond  of  female  society.  Women  chat- 
ter too  mucli.  But  I  prefer  tlic  society  of  a  first-rate  wuuiuu  to 
that  of  any  man  ;  and  Lady  Montfort  is  a  first-rate  woman — I 
think  the  greatest  since  Louise  of  Savoy  ;  infinitely  beyond  tho 
Princesse  d'Ursins." 

The  "business  that  was  then  stirring  in  tlie  diplomatic 
world,"  at  a  season  v»'hcn  the  pleasures  of  Parisian  society 
could  not  distract  him.  gave  Endymion  a  rare  opportunity  of 
studying  tnat  singular  class  of  human  beings  which  is  accus- 
tomed to  'consider  states  and  nations  as  individuals,  and  specu- 
late on  their  quarrels  and  misunderstandings,  and  the  reme- 
dies Avhicli  they  require,  in  a  tongue  peculiar  to  themselves, 
and  in  language  which  often  conveys  a  meaning  exactly  opposite 
to  that  which  it  seems  to  express.  Diplomacy  is  hospitable,  and 
a  young  Englishman  of  graceful  mien,  well  introduced,  and  a 


'!     'i 


I  ■;: 


1  I   \: 


^'  II 


i   t 


O'J-i 


ENDYMIOK 


member  of  the  House  of  Commons,  that  awful  assembly  which 
produces  tliose  dreaded  blue  books  which  strike  terror  in  the 
boldest  of  foreign  statesmen — was  not  only  received,  but  court- 
ed, in  the  interesting  circle  in  which  Endymion  found  himself. 

There  he  encountered  men  gray  with  the  fame  and  wisdom 
of  half  a  century  of  deep  and  lofty  action,  men  who  had  strug- 
gled with  the  first  Napoleon,  and  had  sate  in  the  Congress  of 
Vienna  ;  others,  hardly  less  celebrated,  who  Lad  been  suddenly 
borne  to  high  places  by  the  revolutionary  wave  of  1830,  and 
who  liad  justly  retained  their  exalted  posts  when  so  many  com- 
petitors with  an  equal  ch-ince,  had  long  ago,  with  equal  justice, 
subsided  into  the  obscurity  from  which  they  ought  never  to 
have  emerged.  Around  these  chief  personages  were  others  not 
less  distinguished  by  their  abilities,  but  a  more  youthful  gener- 
ation, Avho  knew  how  to  wait,  and  Avere  always  prepared  or 
preparing  for  the  inevitable  occasion  Avhen  it  arrived — fine  and 
trained  writers,  who  could  interpret  in  sentences  of  graceful 
adroitness,  the  a  icws  of  their  chiefs  ;  or  sages  in  precedents, 
walking  dictionaries  of  diplomacy,  and  masters  of  every  treaty  ; 
and  private  secretaries  reading  human  nature  at  a  glance,  and 
collecting  every  shade  of  oi^inion  for  the  use  and  guidance  o; 
their  principals. 

Whatever  their  controversies  in  the  morning,  their  critical 
interviews  and  their  secret  alliances,  all  were  smiles  and  grace- 
ful badinage  at  the  banquet  and  the  reception  ;  as  if  they  had 
only  come  to  Paris  to  show  their  brilliant  uniforms,  their 
golden  fleeces  and  their  grand  crosses,  and  their  broad  ribbons 
with  more  tints  than  the  Iris. 

*'  I  will  not  give  them  ten  years,"  said  the  Count  of  FerroU 
lighting  his  cigarette,  and  addressing  Endymion  on  their  re- 
turn from  one  of  these  assemblies ;  *'  I  sometimes  think  hardly 
five." 

''  But  where  will  the  blow  come  from  ?  " 

'"  Here  ;  there  is  no  movement  in  Europe  except  in  France, 
and  here  it  will  always  be  a  movement  of  subversion." 

"  A  pretty  prospect ! " 

'*TIie  sooner  j'ou  realize  it  the  better.  The  system  here 
is  supported  by  journalists  and  bankers ;  two  influential  classes. 


A    VALUABLE  FRIEND. 


335 


but  the  millions  care  for  neither  ;  rather,  I  should  say,  dislike 
both."  . 

"  Will  the  change  affect  Europe  ?  " 

''Ineyitably.  You  rightly  say  Europe,  for  that  is  a  geo- 
graphical expression.  There  is  no  State  in  Europe  ;  I  exclude 
your  own  country,  which  belongs  to  every  division  of  the  globe, 
and  is  fast  bc'-oming  more  commercial  than  political,  and  I  ex- 
clude Russia,  for  she  is  essentially  oriental,  and  her  future  will 
be  entirely  the  East." 

"  But  there  is  Germany  ! " 

""Where  ?  I  can  not  find  it  on  the  maps.  Germany  is  di- 
vided into  various  districts,  and  when  there  is  a  war,  they  are 
ranged  on  different  sides.  Notwithstanding  our  reviews  and 
annual  encampments,  Germany  is  practically  as  weak  as  Italy. 
We  have  some  kingdoms  who  are  allowed  to  play  at  being  first- 
rate  powers  ;  but  it  is  mere  play.  They  no  more  command 
events  than  the  King  of  Naples  or  the  Duke  of  Modena." 

"Then  is  France  periodically  to  overrun  Europe  ?" 

"So  long  as  it  continues  to  be  merely  Europe." 

A  close  intimacy  occurred  between  Endymion  and  the 
Count  of  Ferroll.  He  not  only  became  a  permanent  guest  at 
the  official  residence,  but  Avhen  the  Conference  broke  up,  the 
count  invited  Endymion  to  be  his  companion  to  some  celebrated 
baths,  where  they  would  meet  not  only  many  of  his  late  dis- 
tinguished colleagues,  but  their  imperial  and  royal  masters, 
seeking  alike  health  and  relaxation  fit  this  fahious  rendezvous. 

"  You  will  find  it  of  the  first  importance  in  public  life," 
said  the  Count  of  Ferroll,  "to  know  personally  those  who  are 
carrying  on  the  business  of  the  world,  so  much  depends  on  the 
character  of  an  individual,  his  habits  of  thought,  his  prejudices, 
his  superstitions,  his  social  weaknesses,  his  health.  Conduct- 
ing affairs  without  this  advantage  is,  in  effect,  an  affair  of  sta- 
tionery ;  it  is  pens  and  paper  who  are  in  communication,  not 
human  beings." 

The  brother-in-law  of  Lord  Roehampton  was  a  sort  of  per- 
sonage. It  was  very  true  that  distinguished  man  was  no  longer 
minister,  but  he  had  been  minister  for  a  long  time,  and  had 
left  a  great  name.     Foreigners  rarely  know  more  than  one 


fe 


il 


336 


EXDYMI027. 


'tlr 


I     I 


English  minister  at  a  time,  but  they  compensate  for  tlieir  igno- 
rance of  tlie  aggregate  body  by  even  o«aggcrating  the  quali- 
ties of  the  individual  with  whom  they  are  acquainted.  Lord 
Rochampton  had  conducted  the  affairs  of  his  country  always 
in  a  courteous,  but  still  in  a  somewhat  haughty  spirit.  He  was 
easy  and  obliging,  and  conciliatory  in  little  matters,  but  where 
the  credit,  or  honor,  or  large  interests  of  England  Avere  con- 
cerned, he  acted  with  conscious  authority.  On  the  continent 
of  Europe,  though  he  sometimes  incurred  the  depreciation  of 
the  smaller  minds,  whose  self-love  he  may  not  have  sufficiently 
spared,  by  the  higher  spirits  he  was  feared  and  admired,  and 
they  kncAV  when  he  gave  his  whole  soul  to  an  affair,  that  they 
were  dealing  Avith  a  master. 

Endymion  Avas  presented  to  emperors  and  kings,  and  he 
made  his  Avay  Avith  these  exalted  personages.  He  found  them 
different  from  Avhat  he  had  expected.  lie  Avas  struck  by  their 
intimate  acquaintance  with  affairs,  and  by  the  serenity  of  their 
judgment.  The  life  was  a  pleasant  as  well  as  an  interesting 
one.  Where  there  are  croAvned  heads,  tliere  arc  always  som9 
charming  Avomen.  Endymion  found  himself  in  a  delightful 
circle.  Long  days  and  early  hours,  and  a  beautiful  country, 
renovate  the  spirit  as  well  as  the  physical  frame.  Excursions 
to  romantic  forests,  and  visits  to  picturesque  ruins,  in  the  uoon 
of  summer,  arc  enchanting,  especially  Avith  princesses  for  your 
companions,  bright  and  accomplished.  Yet,  notwithstanding 
some  distractions,  Endymion  ncA'cr  omitted  Avriting  to  Lady 
Moiitfort  every  day. 


CHAPTER  LXXIIL 

The  season  at  Paris  Avhich  commenced  toAA'ard  the  end  of 
the  year  was  a  lively  one,  and  especially  interesting  to  Endym- 
ion, who  met  there  a  great  many  of  his  friends.  After  his 
visit  to  the  baths  he  had  traveled  alone  for  a  few  Aveeks,  and 
saAv  some  famous  places  of  Avhich  ho  had  long  heard.  A  poet 
was  tlien  sitting  on  the  throne  of  Bavaria,  and  Avas  realizing 
his  dreams  in  the  creation  of  an  ideal  capital.    The  Black  For- 


i 


CHOOSING  A  PRESENT. 


337 


igno- 


1/ 


est  is  a  land  of  romance.  He  saw  Wallialla,  too,  crowning  tlio 
Danube  with  the  genius  of  Germany,  as  mighty  as  the  stream 
itself.  Pleasant  it  is  to  wander  among  the  quaint  cities  here 
clustering  together :  Nuremberg  with  all  its  ancient  art,  im- 
j)eria]  Augsburg,  and  Wurtzburg  with  its  priestly  palace,  be- 
yond the  splendor  of  many  kings.  A  summer  in  Suabia  is  a 
great  joy. 

But  what  a  contrast  to  the  Rue  de  la  Paix,  bright  and  viva- 
cious, in  Avliich  he  now  finds  himself,  and  the  companion  of  the 
Xeachatcl  family.  Endymicn  had  only  I'cturned  to  Paris  the 
pievious  evening,  and  the  Ncucluitels  luid  preceded  him  by  a 
week  ;  so  they  had  seen  everybody  and  could  tell  him  every- 
thing. Lord  and  Lady  Beaumaris  Averc  there,  and  ;^L•s.  Eod- 
ney  their  companion,  her  husband  detahied  in  London  by  some 
mysterious  business  ;  it  was  thouglit  a  seat  in  Parliament,  which 
Mr.  Tadpole  had  persuaded  him  might  be  secured  on  a  vacancy 
occasioned  by  a  successful  jjetition.  They  had  seen  the  Count 
of  Ferroll,  who  was  going  to  dine  Avith  them  that  da}',  and 
Endymion  was  invited  to  meet  him.  It  was  Adriana's  first 
visit  to  Paris,  and  she  seemed  delighted  with  it  ;  but  Mrs. 
Xeuchatcl  preferred  the  gay  capital  when  it  was  out  of  season. 
Mr.  Xeuchatel  himself  was  always  in  high  spirits — sanguine 
and  self-satisfied.  He  was  an  Orlcanist,  had  always  been  so, 
and  sympathized  with  the  apparently  complete  triumph  of  his 
principles — "real  liberal  principles,  no  nonsense;  there  Avas 
more  gold  in  the  Bank  of  France  than  in  any  similar  establish- 
ment in  Europe.  After  all,  Avealth  is  the  test  of  the  welfare  of 
a  people,  and  the  test  of  Avealtli  is  the  command  of  the  jirecious 
metals.  Eh!  ]\rr.  Member  of  Parliament?"  And  his  eye 
Hashed  fire,  and  he  scenu'd  to  smack  his  lips  at  the  very  tliouglit 
and  mention  of  these  delicious  circumstances. 

They  Averc  in  a  jcAveler's  shop,  and  Mrs.  Neuchatel  Avas 
choosing  a  trinket  for  a  AATddiiig  present.  She  seemed  in- 
finitely distressed.  "What  do  you  think  of  this,  Adriaini  ? 
It  is  simple  and  in  good  taste.  I  should  like  it  for  myself, 
and  yet  I  fear  it  might  not  be  thought  fine  enough." 

"This  is  pretty,  mamma,  and  ncAv,"  and  she  held  before 
her  mother  a  bracelet  of  much  splendor. 

15 


338 


LWDVJI/uy. 


mt 


I 


''  Oh  !  no,  tliat  -will  iiCYcr  do,  dear  Adriaiia,  they  -will  say 
we  are  purse-proud." 

'*  I  am  afraid  they  will  always  say  that,  mamma,"  and  she 
sig'hed. 

''It  is  a  long  time  since  we  all  separated,"  said  Endymion 
to  Adriana. 

"Months!  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  said  you  were  the  fir.>:t 
runaway.  I  think  you  were  quite  right.  Your  new  life  now 
will  be  fresh  to  you.  If  you  had  remained,  it  would  only  have 
been  associated  with  defeat  and  discomfiture." 

''  I  am  so  happy  to  be  in  Parliament,  that  I  do  not  think  I 
could  ever  associate  such  a  life  with  discomfiture." 

''  Does  it  make  you  very  happy  ?  "  said  Adriana,  looking  at 
liim  rather  earnestly. 

"Very  happ3\" 

"  I  am  glad  of  that." 

The  Ncuchatels  had  a  house  at  Paris — one  of  the  fine  hotels 
of  the  First  Empire.  It  was  inhabited  generally  by  one  of  the 
nephews,  but  it  was  always  ready  to  receive  them  with  every 
luxury  and  every  comfort.  But  Mrs.  Neuchatel  herself  par- 
ticularly disliked  Paris,  and  she  rarely  accompanied  her  hus- 
band in  his  frequent  but  brief  visits  to  the  gay  city.  She  had 
yielded  on  this  occasion  to  the  wish  of  Adriana,  whom  she  had 
endeavored  to  bring  up  in  a  wholesome  prejudice  against  French 
taste  and  fashions. 

The  dinner  to-day  was  exquisite,  in  a  chamber  of  many- 
colored  marbles,  and  where  there  was  no  marble  there  was 
gold,  and  when  the  banquet  was  over,  they  repaired  to  saloons 
hung  with  satin  of  a  delicate  tint,  which  exhibited  to  perfec- 
tion a  choice  collection  of  Grcusc  and  Vanloo.  Mr.  Sidney 
Wilton  dined  there  as  well  as  the  Count  of  Ferroll,  some  of  the 
French  ministers,  and  two  or  three  illustrious  Orleani,-;t  celeb- 
rities of  literature,  who  acknowledged  and  emulated  the  match- 
loss  conversational  powers  of  Mrs.  Neuchatel.  Lord  and  Lady 
Beaumaris  and  Mrs.  Rodney  completed  the  party. 

Sylvia  was  really  peerless.  Shu  was  by  birth  half  a  French- 
woman, and  she  compensated  for  her  deficiency  in  the  other 
moiety,  by  a  scries  of  exquisite  costumes,  in  Avhich  she  mingled 


J 


nam 


END  YMIOX'S  DISCREETXESS. 


330 


k 


( 


I 


witli  the  spell-born  fusliion  of  FrancL"  licr  own  singular  genius 
in  dress.  She  spoke  not  mueli,  but  looked  prettier  than  ever  ; 
a  little  haughty,  and  now  and  then  faintly  smiling.  What  was 
most  remarkable  about  her  was  her  convenient  and  complete 
■want  of  memory.  Sylvia  had  no  past.  She  could  not  have 
found  her  way  to  Warwick  Street  to  save  her  life.  She  con- 
versed with  Endymion  with  ease  and  3iot  witliout  gratification, 
but  from  all  she  said,  you  might  have  supposed  that  they  liad 
been  born  in  the  same  spliere,  and  always  lived  in  the  same 
sphere,  that  sphere  being  one  pcoi)lcd  by  ducliesses  and  count- 
esses and  gentlemen  of  fasliion  and  ministers  of  state. 

Lady  Beaumaris  was  difTcrent  from  her  sister  almost  in  all 
respects,  except  in  beauty,  though  her  )}oauty  even  was  of  a 
higher  style  than  that  of  Mrs.  Rodney.  Imogenc  was  cpiite 
natural,  though  refined.  She  had  a  fine  disposition.  All  lier 
impulses  Avere  good  and  naturally  noble.  Slie  had  a  greater 
intellectual  range  than  Sylvia,  and  was  niiieh  more  cultivated. 
This  she  OAved  to  her  friendship  with  Mr.  Waldersharc,  Avho 
Avas  entirely  dcA'oted  to  her,  and  Avliose  main  object  in  life  Avas 
to  make  CATrything  contribute  to  her  greatness.  '*I  hope  he 
Avill  come  here  next  Aveek,"  slie  said  to  Endymion.  *'  I  heard 
from  him  to-day.  He  is  at  Venice.  And  he  gives  me  such 
lovely  descriptions  of  that  cit}',  that  I  shall  never  rest  till  I 
liaA-e  seen  it  and  glided  in  a  gondola." 

''Well,  that  3'ou  can  easily  do." 

'•'  Not  so  easily.  It  Avill  ncA'er  do  to  interfere  Avith  my  lord's 
hunting — and  Avhen  hunting  is  over  there  is  always  something 
else — XcAvmarket,  or  the  House  of  Lords,  or  rook-shooting." 

''  I  must  say  tliere  is  something  delightful  about  Paris, 
Avhich  you  meet  nowhere  else,"  said  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  to  En- 
dymion. "  For  my  part,  it  has  the  same  effect  on  me  as  a 
bottle  of  champagne.  When  I  think  of  Avhat  avc  AA'cre  doing 
this  time  last  year — those  dreadful  Xovcmber  cabinets — I  shud- 
der !  By  the  bye,  the  Count  of  Fcrroll  says  there  is  a  chance 
of  Lady  Montfort  coming  here  ;  have  you  heard  anything  ?  " 

Endymion  kncAV  all  about  it,  but  he  Avas  too  discreet  ca'Cu 
to  pretend  to  exclusiA'c  information  on  that  head.  He  thought 
it  might  be  true,  but  supposed  it  depended  on  my  lord. 


340 


EXDYMION. 


"  Oh  !  Montfort  Avill  never  come.  lie  will  bolt  it  the  last 
moment  when  the  hull  is  full  of  packages.  Their  very  sight 
ivill  frighten  him,  and  he  will  steal  down  to  Princedown  and 
read 'Don  Quixote.'"  • 

Sidney  Wilton  was  (luitc  right.  Lady  Montfort  arrived 
without  her  lord.  '*  lie  threw  me  over  almost  as  we  were  get- 
ting into  the  carriage,  and  I  had  quite  given  it  up  when  dear 
Lady  Eoehampton  came  to  my  rescue.  She  wanted  to  see  her 
brother,  and — here  we  are."' 

The  arrival  of  these  two  great  ladies  gave  a  stimulant  to 
gayeties  Avhicli  were  already  excessive.  The  court  and  the 
ministers  rivaled  the  balls  and  the  banquets  which  were  pro- 
fusely offered  by  the  ambassadors  and  bankers.  Even  the 
great  faubourg  relaxed,  and  its  halls  of  high  ceremony  and 
mysterious  splendor  were  opt.'ned  to  those  wlio  in  London  had 
extended  to  man}  of  their  order  a  graceful  and  abounding  hos- 
pitality. It  was  with  ditliculty,  however,  that  they  persuaded 
Lady  Montfort  to  honor  with  her  presence  the  embassy  of  her 
own  court. 

"  I  dined  with  those  people  once,"  she  said  to  Endymion, 
"but  I  confess  when  I  thought  of  those  dear  Granvirios,  their 
enfrccs  stuck  in  my  throat." 

There  Avas,  however,  no  lack  of  diplomatic  banquets  for  the 
successor  of  Louise  of  Savoy.  The  S})lendid  hotel  of  the  Ccunt 
of  Ferroll  was  the  scene  of  festivals  not  to  be  exceeded  in  P.iris, 
and  all  in  honor  of  this  wondrous  dame.  Sometimes  they  were 
feasts,  sometimes  they  were  balls,  sometimes  they  were  little 
dinners,  consummate  and  select,  sometimes  large  receptions, 
multifarious  and  amusing.  Iler  pleasure  was  asked  every 
morn,  and,  Avhenever  slic  Avas  disengaged,  she  issued  orders  to 
his  devoted  household.  Ilis  boxes  at  opera  or  play  were  at  her 
constant  disposal ;  his  carriages  Avere  at  her  command,  and  she 
rode,  in  his  society,  the  most  beautiful  horses  in  Paris. 

The  Count  of  Ferroll  had  Avished  that  both  ladies  should 
haA'c  taken  up  their  residence  at  his  mansion. 

"But  I  think  AA'e  had  better  not,"  said  Lady  Montfort  to 
Myra.  "After  all,  there  is  nothing  like  'my  crust  of  bread 
and  liberty,'  and  so  I  think  Ave  had  better  stay  at  the  Bristol." 


1 


''MASTER   OF  rilE  SITUA'IIOX:' 


Ul 


lie  last 

sight 

n  and 


CHAPTER   LXXIV. 

1^  "Go  and  talk  to  Adriana,"  said  Lady  Rocliampton  to  her 

brother.     "It  seems  to  me  you  never  speak  to  her.*' 

Endymion  looked  a  little  confu>ed. 
^       "  Lady  Montfort  has  plenty  of  friends  here,"  his  sister  con- 
tinned.     "You  are  not  Avanted,  and  vou  sliould  ahvav-^  remeni- 
her  those  VnO  have  hcen  our  earliest  and  kindest  friends. '' 

There  was  something  in  Lacly  Koehampton's  words  and 
look  which  rather  jarred  upon  him.  Anything  like  reproach 
or  dissatisfaction  from  those  lips  and  from  tliat  countenance, 
sometimes  a  little  anxious  hut  always  affectionate,  not  to  say 
adoring,  confused  and  even  agitated  him.  lie  was  tempted  to 
rejdy,  hut,  exercising  .successfully  the  self-control  which  was 
the  result  rather  of  his  life  than  of  his  nature,  he  said  nothing, 
and,  in  ohedicncc  to  the  intimation,  immediately  approached 
Miss  Xcuchatel. 

About  this  time  AValdcrshare  arrived  at  Paris,  full  of  mag- 

Inificent  dreams  which  he  called  plans.  He  was  delighted  with 
Ids  ofhce  ;  it  was  much  the  most  important  in  the  government, 
and  more  important  because  it  Avas  not  in  the  cabinet.  Well 
managed,  it  Avas  power  Avithout  rcsjionsibility.  He  explained 
to  Lady  Beaumaris  that  an  Under-Secretary  of  State  for  For- 
' ,:  cign  Affairs,  Avitli  his  chief  in  the  House  of  Lords,  AA'as  ''mas- 

ter of  the  situation.-'  What  the  situation  Avas,  and  Avhat  the 
under-secretary  was  to  master,  he  did  not  yet  deign  to  inform 
Imogcne  ;  but  her  trust  in  Waldcrsharc  Avas  implicit,  and  she 
repeated  to  Lord  Beaumaris,  and  to  Mrs.  Rodney,  Avith  an  air 
i  of  mysterious   self-complacency,    that   Mr.    Waldershare   Avas 

\i  "master  of  the  situation."     Mrs.  Rodney  fancied  that  this  Avas 

the  correct  and  fashionable  title  of  an  under-secretary  of  state. 
Mr.  Waldershare  Avas  going  to  make  a  collection  of  portraits  of 
Under-Secretaries  for  Foreign  Affairs  Avhose  chiefs  had  been  in 
the  House  of  Lords.  It  AA'ould  be  a  collection  of  the  most 
eminent  statesmen  that  England  had  cA'cr  produced.  For  the 
rest,  during  his  Italian  tour,  Waldershare  seemed  to  have  con- 
ducted himself  with  distinguished  discretion,  and  liad  been 


1 

■ 


3i2 


ENDYMIOX. 


I 


^'11  ! 


:'i 


I      i 


i 


careful  not  to  solicit  an  audience  of  the  Duke  of  Modena  in 
order  to  renew  his  oath  of  allegiance. 

When  Lady  Montfort  successfully  tempted  Lady  Roehamp- 
tou  to  be  her  traveling  companion  to  Paris,  the  contemplated 
visit  was  to  have  been  a  short  one — ''a  week,  perhaps  ten  days 
at  the  outside."  The  outside  had  been  not  inconsiderably 
passed,  and  yet  the  beautiful  Berengaria  showed  no  disposition 
of  returning  to  England.  Myra  was  uneasy  at  her  own  pro- 
tracted absence  from  her  lord,  and  having  made  a  last  but 
fruitless  effort  to  induce  Lady  Montfort  to  accompany  her,  she 
said  one  day  to  Endymion,  "1  think  I  must  ask  you  to  take 
me  back.  And  indeed  you  ought  to  be  with  my  lord  some 
little  time  before  the  meeting  of  Parliament." 

Endymion  was  really  of  the  same  opinion,  though  he  was 
conscious  of  the  social  difficulty  which  he  should  have  to  en- 
counter in  order  to  elTeet  his  purpose.  Occasionally  a  states- 
man in  opposition  is  assisted  by  the  same  private  secretary  who 
was  his  confidant  when  iv  office ;  but  this  is  not  always  the 
case — perhaps  net  even  generally.  In  the  present  instance, 
tlie  principal  of  Lord  Roehampton's  several  secretaries  had 
been  selected  from  the  permanent  clerks  in  the  Foreign  Office 
itself,  and  therefore  when  his  chief  retired  from  his  official 
duties,  the  priva';e  secretary  resumed  his  previous  post,  an  act 
which  necessarily  terminated  all  relations  between  himself  and 
the  late  minister,  save  those  of  private,  though  often  still  inti- 
mate acquaintance. 

Kow  one  of  the  great  objects  of  Lady  Roehampton  for  a 
long  time  had  been,  that  her  brother  should  occupy  a  confi'''on- 
tial  position  near  her  husband.  The  desire  had  originally  been 
shared,  and  even  warmly,  by  Lady  Montfort ;  but  the  un  'i- 
pected  entrance  of  Endymion  into  the  House  of  Commons  luw.. 
raised  a  technical  difficulty  in  this  respect  which  seemed  to 
terminate  the  cherished  prospect.  Myra,  however,  was  resolved 
not  to  regard  these  technical  difficulties,  and  was  determined 
to  establish  at  once  the  intimate  relations  she  desired  between 
her  husband  and  her  brother.  This  purpose  had  been  one  of 
the  principal  causes  which  had  induced  her  to  accompany  Lady 
Montfort  to  Paris.     She  wanted  to  sec  Endymion,  to  see  what 


♦ 


1 


»aH*«b. 


LADY  MOXTFOnrS  0 PI XI ON. 


313 


tlciia  in 

cliamp- 
npliitod 
en  (lays 
tlcrably 
)osition 
n  pro- 
ist  but 
ler,  she 
to  take 
'\  some 

be  was 
to  en- 

states- 
rj  wJio 
ays  the 
stance, 
3s   liacl 

Office 
official 
an  act 
!lf  and 
II  inti- 

for  a 
.fi'^en- 
r'  been 
ui]  ':- 
s  bau. 
od  to 
olved 
lined 
ween 
lie  of 
Lady 
what 


he  Avas  about,  and  to  prepare  him  for  the  future  wliich  she 
contemplated. 

The  view  wliich  Lady  Montfort  took  of  these  matters  Avas 
very  difrcrent  from  tliat  of  Lady  Eoehampton.  Lady  Mont- 
fort was  in  her  ridiug  habit,  leaning  back  in  an  easy  chair, 
witli  licr  Avhii)  in  one  hand  and  tlie  "Cluirivari"  in  the  otlier, 
and  she  said,  "Are  you  not  going  to  ride  to-day,  Endymion  ?  " 

"I  tliink  not.  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you  a  little  about  my 
})Ians,  Lady  Montfort." 

''  Your  plans  !     Why  should  you  have  any  i)lans  ?  " 

''Well,  Lady  Eoehampton  is  about  to  return  to  England, 
and  she  proposes  I  should  go  with  her." 
!#  ''AVhy?" 

And  then  Endymion  entered  into  the  whole  case,  the  de- 
sirableness of  being  Avith  Lord  Eoehampton  before  the  meeting 
of  Parliament,  of  assisting  him,  working  Avith  liim,  acting  for 
him,  and  all  the  other  expedient  circumstances  of  the  situation. 

Lady  Montfort  said  nothing.  Being  of  an  cuger  nature,  it 
was  rather  her  habit  to  interrupt  those  Avho  addressed  her,  es- 
pecially on  matte?  o  she  decmec''  disagreeable.  Her  husbtuul 
used  to  say,  "  Berengaria  is  a  charming  companion,  but  if  slie 
Avould  only  listen  a  little  more,  she  Avould  have  so  mucli  more 
to  tell  me."  On  the  present  occasi^on,  Endymion  had  no  rea- 
son to  complain  that  he  had  not  a  fair  opportunity  of  stating 
his  vicAvs  and  Avishes.  She  was  quite  silent,  changed  color 
occasionally,  bit  her  beautiful  lip,  and  gently  but  constantly 
lashed  her  beautiful  riding  habit.  When  he  paused,  she  in- 
([uircd  if  he  had  done,  and  he  assenting,  she  said,  "1  think 
the  whole  thing  preposterous.  What  can  Lord  Eoehampton 
have  to  do  before  the  meeting  of  Parliament  ?  IIo  has  not  got 
to  Avrite  the  Queen's  speech.  The  only  use  of  being  in  opposi- 
tion is  that  AA^e  may  enjoy  ourselves.  The  best  thing  that  Lord 
Eoehampton  and  all  his  friends  can  do  is  to  travel  for  a  couple 
of  years.  Ask  the  Count  of  Ferroll  Avhat  he  thinks  of  the  situ- 
ation, lie  will  tell  you  that  he  never  knew  one  more  hopeless. 
Taxes  and  tariffs — that's  the  future  of  England,  and,  so  far  as 
I  can  see,  it  may  go  on  for  ever.  The  government  here  desires 
nothing  better  than  Avhat  they  call  Peace.     What  they  mean 


S44 


ENDYMIOX. 


by  i)c;icc  is  agiotage,  shares  at  a  premium,  and  bubble  com- 
panies. Tlic  whole  thing  is  corrupt,  as  it  ever  must  be  when 
goTernment  is  in  the  hands  of  a  mere  middle  class,  and  that, 
too,  a  limited  one  ;  but  it  may  last  hopelessly  long,  and  in  the 
mean  time,  '  Vive  la  bagatelle  ! ' " 

"These  are  very  different  views  from  those  which,  I  had 
understood,  were  to  guide  us  in  opposition,"  said  Endymion, 
amazed. 

"There  is  no  opposition,'' rejoined  Lady  Montfort,  some- 
what tartly.  "For  a  real  opposition  there  must  be  a  great 
policy.  If  your  friend,  Lord  Roehampton,  when  lie  was  settling 
the  Levant,  had  only  seized  upon  Egyjit,  we  should  have  been 
somewhere.  Now,  w^c  are  the  party  who  wanted  to  give, 
not  even  cheap  bread  to  the  people,  but  only  cheajjcr  bread. 
Paugh  ! " 

"  AYell,  I  do  not  think  the  occupation  of  Egypt  in  the  pres- 
ent state  of  our  finances — " 

"  Do  not  talk  to  mo  about  *  the  present  state  of  our  finances.' 
You  are  worse  than  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton.  The  Count  of  FerroU 
gays  that  a  ministry  which  is  upset  by  its  finances  must  be  essen- 
tially imbecile.  And  that,  too,  in  England — the  richest  country 
in  the  world  ! " 

"Well,  I  think  the  state  of  the  finances  had  something  to 
do  with  the  French  Revolution,"  observed  Endymion  quietly. 

"  The  French  Revolution  !  You  might  as  Avell  talk  of  the 
fall  of  the  Roman  Empire.  The  French  Revolution  was  founded 
on  nonsense — on  the  rights  of  man  ;  Avhen  all  sensible  peoj)lo 
in  every  country  are  now  agreed,  that  man  has  no  rights  Avhat- 


€ver. 


»j 


"But,  dearest  Lady  Montfort,"  said  Endymion,  in  a  some- 
what deprecating  tone,  "  about  my  returning  ;  for  that  is  the 
real  subject  on  which  I  wished  to  trouble  you." 

"You  have  made  up  your  mind  to  return,"  she  replied. 
"  What  is  the  use  of  consulting  me  with  a  foregone  conclusion  ? 
I  suppose  you  think  it  a  compliment." 

"I  should  be  very  sorry  to  do  anything  without  consulting 
you,"  said  Endymion. 

"The  worst  person  in  the  world  to  consult,"  said  Lady 


V),_. 


READY  TO  J>EPAin\ 


com- 

wlien 

tliat, 

in  the 


« 


Montfort  impatiently.  "If  you  want  advice,  you  liad  better 
go  to  your  sister.  ^len  wlio  are  guided  ])y  their  sisters  sekloni 
mako  very  great  mistakes.  Tliey  are  generally  so  prudent ; 
and,  I  must  say,  I  think  a  prudent  man  quite  detestable." 

Endymion  turned  pale,  his  lij)  quivered,  what  might  have 
been  the  winged  words  they  sent  forth  it  is  now  impossible  to 
record,  for  at  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  the  servant 
announced  that  her  ladysliip's  horse  was  at  the  door.  Lady 
Montfort  Jumped  up  (luickly,  and  saying,  ''Well,  I  suppose  I 
shall  see  you  before  }ou  go,"  disai)i)eared. 


CHAPTER   LXXV. 

In"  the  mean  time.  Lady  lioehampton  was  paying  her  faro- 
■well  visit  to  Ir-r  former  pupil.  Tiiey  were  alone,  and  Adriana 
•was  lianging  on  her  neck  and  Aveeping. 

*' We  were  so  lia^^py,"  she  murmured. 

**  And  are  so  happy,  and  -will  be,"  said  Mvra, 

"I  feel  I  shall  never  be  happy  again,"  sighed  Adriana. 

"  You  deserve  to  be  the  happiest  of  human  beings,  and  you 
will  be." 

"Never,  never  I" 

Lady  Eoehampton  could  say  no  more  she  pressed  her 
friend  to  her  heart,  and  left  the  room  in  silence. 

AVlien  she  arrived  at  her  hotel,  her  brother  was  leaving  the 
house.  Ilis  countenance  "was  disquieted  ;  he  did  not  greet  her 
•with  that  mantling  sunniness  of  aspect  •which  "was  natural  ta 
him  "when  they  met. 

"I  have  made  all  my  farewells,"  she  said,  "and  ho^v  have 
you  been  getting  on?"  And  she  invited  him  to  reenter  the 
hotel. 

"  I  am  ready  to  depart  at  this  moment,"  he  said,  somc"^'hafc 
fiercely,  "and  was  only  thinking  how  I  could  extricate  myself 
from  that  horrible  dinner  to-day  at  the  Count  of  Ferroll's." 

"Well,  that  is  not  difficult,"  said  Myra,  "  you  can  write  a 
note  here,  if  you  like,  at  once.  I  think  you  must  have  seen 
quite  enough  of  the  Count  of  Ferroll  and  his  friends." 


:1 


i 


l« 


I     ■'!  ' 


;ua 


EXDYMfOy. 


Eiidymion  sat  down  at  the  tabic  and  aiinonnccd  his  intended 
non-appearance  at  the  count's  dinner,  for  it  could  not  be  called 
an  excuse.     When  he  had  finished,  his  sister  said  : 

**  Do  you  know,  we  were  nearly  having  a  traveling  compan- 
ion to-morrow  ?  " 

He  looked  up  witli  a  blush,  for  he  fancied  she  was  alluding 
to  some  previoui:  scheme  of  Lady  Montfort.  ''Indeed!"  he 
said,  "and  Avho  ?  " 

"  Adriana." 

**  Adriana  !  "  he  repeated,  somewhat  relieved  ;  "  would  she 
leave  her  fiimily  ?  "  H 

"  She  had  a  fancy,  and  I  am  sure  I  do  not  know  any  com- 
panion I  could  prefer  to  her.  She  is  the  only  person  of  whom 
I  could  truly  say,  that  every  time  I  sec  her  I  love  her  more."  i,^ 

"  She  seemed  to  like  Paris  very  much,"  said  Endymion,  a 
little  embarrassed. 

"  The  first  part  of  her  visit,"  said  Lady  Rochampton,  '•'  she 
liked  it  amazingly.  But  my  arrival  and  Lady  Montfort's,  I 
fear,  broke  up  their  little  parties.  You  were  a  great  deal  with 
the  Ncuchatels  before  we  came  ? "  ^' 

"They  are  such  a  good  family,"  said  Endymion,  "so  kind, 
so  hospitable,  such  true  friends.  And  ^Mr.  Keucliatel  himself 
is  one  of  the  shrewdest  men  that  j^robably  ever  lived.  I  like 
talking  with  him,  or,  rather,  I  like  to  hear  liim  talk." 

'•  Oh,  Endymion,"  said  Lady  Eoehampton,  "if  you  were  to 
marry  Adriana,  my  happiness  would  be  complete." 

"Adriana  will  never  marry,"  said  Endymion;  "she  is 
afraid  of  being  married  for  her  money.  I  know  twenty  men 
who  would  marry  her  if  they  thought  there  was  a  chance  of 
being  accepted  ;  and  the  best  man,  Eusford,  did  make  her  an 
offer — that  I  know.     And  where  could  she  find  a  match  more  V* 

suitable  ? — high  rank,  and  large  estate,  and  a  man  that  every- 
body speaks  well  of." 

"Adriana  will  never  marry,  except  for  the  affections  ;  there 
you  are  right,  Endymion.  She  must  love  and  she  must  be 
loved ;  but  that  is  not  very  unreasonable  in  a  person  "who  is 
young,  pretty,  accomplished,  and  intelligent." 

"She  is  all  that,"  said  Endymion,  moodily. 


I 


NO  HESITATION. 


347 


I"  he 


**  And  filic  loves  you,''  said  Lady  lu)L'luim})toii. 

Eiidymion  nitlicr  started,  looked  up  for  a  moment  at  I'lis 
sister,  and  then  withdrew  as  hastily  an  agitated  glance,  and 
then  with  his  eyes  on  the  ground  said,  in  a  voice  half  munuur- 
^  ing  and  yet  scotllngly  :  *•  I  should  like  to  sec  Mr.  Neuchatel's 

face  were  I  to  ask  permission  to  marry  his  daughter.     I  sup- 
pose he  would  not  kick  me  down  stairs  ;  that  is  out  of  fashion  ; 
,A  but  he  certainly  would  never  ask  me  to  dinner  again,  and  that 

wouhl  be  a  sacrifice." 

*' You  jest,  Endymion  ;  I  am  nut  jesting." 

**  There  are  some  matters  that  can  only  be  treated  .is  a  jest, 
and  my  marriage  with  Miss  Neuchatel  is  one." 

"  It  would  make  you  one  of  the  most  ijov.-crful  men  in 
Enghmd,"  said  his  sister. 

"Other  impossible  events  would  do  the  same." 
,i  ''It  is  not  impossible,  it  is  very  possible,"  said  his  sister, 

''believe  me,  trust  in  me.     The  hai)piness  of  their  daughter  is 
more  precious  to  the  Neuchatels  even  than  their  fortune." 

"I  do  not  see  why,  at  my  age,  I  should  be  in  such  a  hurry 
to  marry,"  said  Endymion. 

"  You  can  not  marry  too  soon,  if  by  so  doing  you  obtain  the 
great  object  of  life.  Early  marriages  are  to  be  deprcctited,  es- 
pecially for  men,  because  they  are  too  frefpiently  imprudent ; 
but  when  a  man  can  marry  while  he  is  young,  and  at  once  re- 
alize, by  so  doing,  all  the  results  which  successful  time  may 
bring  to  him,  he  should  not  hesitate." 

"I  hesitate  very  much,"  said  Endymion.  "I  should  hesi- 
tate very  much,  even  if  affairs  were  as  promising  as  I  think  you 
may  erroneously  assume." 

"But  you  must  not  hesitate,  Endymion.  We  must  never 
forget  the  great  object  for  Avhicli  we  two  live,  for  which  I  believe, 
we  were  born  twins — to  rebuild  our  house  ;  to  raise  it  from  pov- 
erty, and  ignominy,  and  misery  and  squalid  shame,  to  the  rank 
and  position  which  we  demand  and  which  we  believe  we  deserve. 
Did  I  hesitate  when  an  offer  of  marriage  was  made  to  me,  and 
the  most  unexpected  that  could  have  occurred  ?  True  it  is,  I 
married  the  best  and  greatest  of  men,  but  I  did  not  know  that 
when  I  accepted  his  hand.     I  married  him  for  your  sake,  I  mar- 


348 


END  YMIOX. 


ried  bim  for  my  own  sake,  for  the  sake  of  the  liou  o  of  Fcrrars, 
which  I  wished  to  release  and  raise  from  its  pit  of  dcsohition. 
I  married  him  to  secure  for  us  both  that  opportunity  for  our 
qualities  which  they  had  lost,  and  which  I  believed,  if  enjoyed, 
would  render  us  powerful  and  great." 

Endymion  rose  from  his  scat  and  kissed  his  .'^ister.  'SSo 
long  as  you  live,"  he  said,  "  we  shall  never  be  ignominious." 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  nothing ;  I  am  not  a  man,  I  am  not  a  Fcr- 
rars. The  best  of  me  is  that  I  may  be  a  transient  help  to  you. 
It  is  you  who  must  do  the  deed.  I  am  wearied  of  hearing  you 
described  as  Lady  Roehamptou's  brother,  or  Lord  Roehampton's 
brother-in-law.  I  shall  never  be  content  till  you  are  greater 
than  we  are,  and  there  is  but  only  one  and  one  immediate  way 
of  accomplishing  it ;  it  is  by  this  marriage — and  a  marriage  with 
whom  ?  with  an  angelic  being  ! " 

"You  take  me  somewhat  by  suri)rise,  Mj-ra.  My  thoughts 
have  not  been  upon  this  matter.  I  can  not  fairly  describe  my- 
self at  this  moment  as  a  marrying  man." 

*'  I  know  what  you  mean.  You  have  female  friendships  and 
I  approve  of  them.  They  are  invaluable  to  youth,  and  you  have 
been  greatly  favored  in  this  respect.  They  have  been  a  great 
a,ssistance  to  you  ;  beware  lest  they  become  a  hindrance.  A  few 
years  of  such  feelings  in  a  woman's  life  are  a  blazoned  page, 
and  when  it  is  turned  she  has  many  other  chapters  though  they 
may  not  be  as  brilliant  or  adorned.  But  these  few  years  in  a 
man's  life  may  be,  and  in  your  case  certainly  would  be,  the  very 
marrow  of  liii  destiny.  During  the  last  five  or  six  years,  ever 
since  our  emancipation,  there  has  been  a  gradual  but  continuous 
development  in  your  life.  All  has  been  preparatory  for  a  posi- 
tif  n  which  you  have  acquired.  That  position  may  lead  to  any- 
thing— in  your  case,  I  will  still  believe,  to  everything — but  th^re 
must  be  no  faltering.  Having  crossed  the  Alps,  you  must  not 
find  a  Capua.  I  speak  to  you  as  I  have  not  spoken  to  you  of 
late,  because  it  was  not  necessary.  But  here  is  an  opportunity 
which  must  not  be  lost.  I  feel  half  inspired,  as  when  we  part- 
ed in  our  misery  at  Hurstley,  and  I  bade  you,  poor  and  obscure, 
go  forth  and  conquer  the  world." 

Late  on  the  night  of  the  day,  their  last  day  at  Paris,  on 


\ 


^  .icjf^.»«aft 


''OUR   OWN  liEPOnTEUr 


340 


5> 


■\vhicli  this  conversation  took  place,  Endymion  received  a  note 
in  a  well-known  handwriting,  and  it  ran  thus  : 

"If  it  he  any  satisfaction  to  you  to  know  that  you  made 
mc  very  unhappy  by  not  dining  here  to-day,  you  may  be  grati- 
fied. I  am  very  unhappy.  I  know  that  I  was  unkind  this 
morning,  and  rude,  but  as  my  anger  was  occasioned  by  your 
leaving  me,  my  conduct  might  annoy  but  surely  could  not 
mortify  you.  I  shall  see  you  to-morrow,  however  early  you 
may  depart,  as  I  can  not  let  your  dear  sister  leave  Paris  without 

my  embracing  her. 

"Your  faithful  friend, 

"  Berexgakia." 


CHAPTER    LXXVI. 


on 


Ix  old  days,  it  Avas  the  habit  to  think  and  say  that  the 
House  of  Commons  Avas  an  essentially  "  queer  place,"  which 
no  one  could  understand  until  he  was  a  member  of  it.  It  may, 
perhaps,  be  doubted  whether  that  somewhat  mysterious  quality 
still  altogether  attaches  to  that  assembly.  "  Our  own  Report- 
er" has  invaded  it  in  all  its  purlieus.  No  longer  content  with 
giving  an  account  of  the  s})eeches  of  its  members,  he  is  not 
satisfied  unless  he  describes  their  persons,  their  dress,  and  their 
characteristic  mannerisfms.  He  tolls  us  how  they  dine,  even 
the  wines  and  dishes  which  they  favor,  and  follows  them  into 
the  very  m^'steries  of  their  smoking-room.  And  yet  there  is 
perhaps  a  certain  fine  sense  of  the  feelings,  and  opinions,  and 
liumors  of  this  assembly,  which  can  not  be  acquired  by  hasty 
notions  and  necessarily  superficial  remarks,  but  must  be  the 
result  of  long  and  patient  observation,  and  of  that  quick  sym- 
pathy with  human  sentiment,  in  all  its  classes,  which  is  in- 
volved in  the  possession  of  that  inestimable  quality  styled  tact. 

Wlien  Endymion  Ferrars  first  took  his  seal  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  it  still  fully  possessed  its  character  of  enigmatic  tra- 
dition. It  had  been  thought  that  this,  in  a  great  degree,  would 
have  been  dissipated  by  the  Reform  Act  of  1832,  which  sud- 


350 


JiXDYMIOK 


1 


m 


m 


'1 1 


I 


dcnly  introduced  into  the  hallowed  precinct  a  number  of  indi- 

vidi  als  whose  education,  manners,  modes  of  thought,  were  dif- 
ferent from  those  of  the  previous  inhabitants,  and  in  some 
instances,  and  in  some  respects,  quite  contrary  to  them.  But 
this  was  not  so.  After  a  short  time,  it  was  observed  that  the 
old  material,  though  at  first  much  less  in  quantity,  had  leavened 
the  new  mass ;  that  the  tone  of  the  former  house  was  imitated 
and  adopted,  and  that  at  the  end  of  five  years,  about  the  time 
Endymion  was  returned  to  Parliament,  much  of  its  serene,  and 
refined,  and  even  classical  character  hud  been  recovered. 

For  himself,  he  entered  the  chambo)*  with  a  certain  degree 
of  awe,  Avhich,  with  use,  diminished,  bu  never  entirely  disap- 
peared. The  scene  was  one  over  which  iiis  boyhood  even  had 
long  mused,  and  it  was  associated  with  all  those  traditions  of 
genius,  eloquence,  and  power  that  charn.  and  inspire  youth. 
His  practical  acquaintance  Avith  the  forms  and  habits  of  the 
House  from  his  customary  attendance  on  their  debates  as  pri- 
vate secretary  to  a  cabinet  minister,  was  of  great  advantage  to 
him,  and  restrained  that  excitement  which  dangerously  accom- 
panies us  when  we  enter  into  a  new  life,  and  especially  a  life  of 
such  deep  and  thrilling  interests  and  such  large  proportions. 
This  result  was  also  assisted  by  his  knowledge,  at  least  by  sight, 
of  a  large  proportion  of  the  old  members,  and  by  his  j^ersonal 
and  sometimes  intimate  acquaintance  with  those  of  his  own 
party.  There  was  much  in  his  positi  >n,  therefore,  to  soften 
that  awkward  feeling  of  hciu^  i  freshman,  wL'ch  is  always 
embarrassing. 

He  took  his  place  on  the  second  bench  of  the  opposition 
side  of  the  house,  and  nearly  behind  Lord  Eoehampton.  Mr. 
Bertie  Tremaine,  whom  Endymion  encountered  in  the  lobby 
as  he  was  escaping  to  dinner,  highly  disapproved  of  this  step. 
He  had  greeted  End^-mion  with  affable  condescension.  "  Yoo 
made  your  first  mistake  to-night,  my  dear  Ferrars.  Yoti 
should  have  taken  your  seat  below  the  gangway  and  near  me, 
on  the  Mountain.     You,  like  myself,  are  a  m;n   ><:  the  ttitiire.'^ 

**I  am  a  member  of  the  opposition.  I  io  not  suppose  it 
signifies  much  where  I  sit." 

''  On  the  contrary,  it  signifies  everything.     After  this  great 


I 


TEE  mountain: 


351 


Tory  reaction  there  is  nothing  to  be  done  now  by  speeches, 
and,  in  all  probability,  very  little  that  can  be  effectually  op- 
posed. ]\Iuch,  therefore,  depends  upon  where  you  sit.  If  you 
sit  on  the  Mountain,  the  public  imagination  will  be  attracted 
to  you,  and  when  they  are  aggrieved,  which  they  will  be  in 
good  time,  the  public  passion,  which  is  called  opinion,  will 
look  to  you  for  representation.  My  advice  to  my  friends  now 
is  to  sit  together  and  say  nothing,  but  to  profess  through  the 
press  the  most  advanced  opinions.  We  sit  on  the  back  bench 
of  the  gangway,  and  call  ourselves  the  Mountain." 

NotAvithstanding  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine's  oracular  revelations, 
Endymion  was  very  glad  to  find  his  old  friend  Trenchard  gen- 
erally his  neighbor.  He  had  a  high  opinion  both  of  Trenchard's 
judgment  and  acquiremei  ts,  and  he  liked  the  man.  In  time 
they  always  managed  to  sit  together.  Job  Thornl)erry  took 
his  seat  below  the  gangway,  on  the  opposition  side,  and  on 
the  floor  of  the  House.  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine  had  sent  his 
brother,  Mr.  Tremaine  Bertie,  to  look  after  this  new  star, 
whom  he  was  anxious  should  ascend  the  ^Mountain ;  but  Job 
Thornberry  wishing  to  know  whether  the  Mountain  were  going 
for  '^  total  and  immediate,"  and  not  obtaining  a  sufficiently 
distinct  reply,  declined  the  proffered  intimation.  Mr.  Bertie 
Trenudne,  being  a  landed  proprietor  as  Avell  as  leader  of  the 
Mountain,  was  too  much  devoted  to  the  rights  of  labor  to  sanc- 
tion such  middle-class  madness. 

*' Peel  will  have  to  do  it,"  said  Job.     '^  You  will  see." 

^'Peel  now  occupies  the  position  of  Necker,"  said  Mr.  Ber- 
tie Tremaine,  '^and  will  make  the  &'A\\\q  fiasco.  Then  you  will 
at  la.<t  have  a  popular  government." 

"And  the  rights  of  labor?"  asked  Job.  ''AH  I  hope  is, 
I  may  have  got  safe  to  the  States  before  that  day." 

"There  will  be  no  danger,"  said  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine. 
"  There  is  this  difference  between  the  English  Mountain  and 
the  French.  The  English  Mountain  has  its  government  pre- 
pared- And  my  brother  spoke  to  you  because,  when  the  hour 
arrives,  I  wished  to  see  you  a  member  of  it." 

"My  dear  Endymion,"  said  Waldershare,  "let  us  dine  to- 
gether before  we  meet  in  mortal  conflict,  which  I  suppose  will 


\ 


352 


EXDYMIOX. 


(i: 


1 

. 

1 

ij 

'■ 

I 

"i" 


11  ; 


be  soon.  J  really  think  yonr  Mr.  Bertie  Trcmainc  the  most 
absurd  being  out  of  Colney  Hatch." 

*' Well,  he  has  a  purpose,"  said  Endymion  ;  "and  they  say 
that  a  man  with  a  purpose  generally  sees  it  realized." 

"What  I  do  like  in  him,"  said  Waldershare,  "is  this  re- 
vival of  the  Pythagorean  system,  and  leading  a  party  of  silence. 
That  is  rich." 

One  of  the  most  interesting  members  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons was  Sir  Fraunceys  Scrope.  He  was  the  father  of  the 
House,  though  it  was  difficult  to  believe  that  from  his  apjicar- 
ance.  He  was  tall,  and  had  kept  his  distinguished  figure ;  a 
handsome  man,  with  a  musical  voice,  and  a  countenance  now 
benignant,  though  very  bright,  and  once  haughty.  He  still  re- 
tained the  same  fashion  of  costume  in  which  he  had  rode  up  to 
Westminster  more  than  half  a  century  ago,  from  his  seat  in 
Derbyshire,  to  support  his  dear  friend  Charles  Fox ;  real  top- 
boots,  and  a  blue  coat  and  buff  waistcoat.  He  was  a  great  friend 
of  Lord  Roehampton,  had  a  large  estate  in  the  same  county, 
and  had  refused  an  earldom.  Knowing  Endymion,  he  came  and 
sat  by  him  one  d,  ly  in  the  House,  and  asked  him,  good-naturcd- 
l}',  how  he  liked  iiis  new  life. 

"It  is  very  different  from  what  it  was  when  I  was  your  age. 
Up  to  Easter  we  rarely  had  a  regular  debate,  never  a  party  divi- 
sion ;  very  few  people  came  up  indeed.  But  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  speaking  on  all  subjects  before  dinner.  We  had  the  priv- 
ilege then  of  speaking  on  the  presentation  of  petitions  at  any 
length,  and  we  seldom  spoke  on  any  other  occasion.  After  East- 
er there  was  always  at  least  one  great  party  fight.  This  was  a 
mighty  affair,  talked  of  for  weeks  before  it  came  off,  and  then 
rarely  an  adjourned  debate.  AVe  were  gentlemen,  used  to  sit  up 
late,  and  should  have  been  sitting  up  somewhere  else  had  we  not 
been  in  the  House  of  Commons.  After  this  party  fight,  the 
House  for  the  rest  of  the  session  was  a  mere  club." 

"  There  was  not  much  business  doing  then,"  said  Endymion. 

"There  was  not  much  business  in  the  country  then.  The 
House  of  Commons  was  very  much  like  what  the  House  of  Lords 
is  now.  You  went  home  to  dine,  and  now  and  then  came  back 
for  an  important  division." 


^iPfflWKW^WS'W 


TOPSY  turvy: 


353 


most 


a 


^'  But  you  must  always  Lave  had  the  estimates  here,"  said 
Endymion. 

"  Yes,  but  they  ran  througli  very  easily.  Hume  was  the  first 
man  who  attacked  tlic  estimates.  What  are  you  going  to  do 
with  yourself  to-day  ?  Will  you  take  your  mutton  with  me  ? 
You  must  come  in  boots,  for  it  is  now  dinner-time,  and  you 
must  return,  I  fancy.  Twenty  years  ago,  no  man  would  think 
of  coming  doAvn  to  the  House  except  in  evening  dress.  I  re- 
member so  late  as  I\Ir.  Canning,  the  minister  always  came  down 
in  silk  stockings  and  j^antaloons,  or  knee  breeches.  All  things 
change,  and  quoting  Virgil,  as  that  young  gentleman  has  just 
done,  will  be  the  next  thing  to  disappear.  In  the  last  Parlia- 
ment we  often  had  Latin  quotations,  but  never  from  a  member 
with  a  new  constituency.  I  have  heard  Greek  quoted  here,  but 
that  was  long  ago,  and  a  great  mistake.  The  House  was  quite 
alarmed.  Charles  Fox  used  to  say  as  to  quotation — '  No  Greek  ; 
as  much  Latin  as  you  like  ;  and  never  French  under  any  cir- 
cumstances. No  English  poet  unless  he  had  completed  his  cen- 
tury.' These  were  like  some  other  good  rules,  the  unwritten 
orders  of  the  House  of  Commons." 


CHAPTER  LXXVn. 

VrniLE  parliaments  Avere  dissolving  and  ministries  forming, 
the  disappointed  seeking  consolation  and  the  successful  enjoy- 
ing their  triumph,  Simon,  Earl  of  Montfort,  who  just  missed 
being  a  great  philosopher,  was  reading  ''Topsy  Turvy,"  which 
infinitely  amused  him  ;  the  style  so  picturesque  and  lambent ! 
the  tone  so  divertingly  cynical !  And  if  the  knowledge  of  so- 
ciety in  its  pages  Avas  not  so  distinguished  as  that  of  human 
nature  generally,  this  Avas  a  deficiency  obvious  only  to  a  com- 
paratiA^ely  limited  circle  of  its  readers. 

Lord  Montfort  had  reminded  Endymion  of  his  promise  to 
introduce  the  distinguished  author  to  him,  and  accordingly, 
after  due  researches  as  to  his  dAvelling-place,  Mr.  Ferrars  called 
in  Jermyn  Street  and  sent  up  his  card,  to  knoAv  AA'hether  Mr. 


351 


ENDYJJWK 


I 

i 


St.  Barbe  would  receive  liim.  Tliis  was  ovirlently  not  a  matter- 
of-course  affair,  and  some  little  timo  had  elapsed  when  the 
maid-servant  reappeared,  and  beckoned  to  Endymion  to  fol- 
low her  up  stairs. 

In  the  front  drawing-room  of  the  first  floor,  robed  in  a 
flaming  dressing-gown,  and  standing  with  his  back  to  the  fire 
and  to  the  looking-glass,  the  frame  of  which  was  incrusted 
with  cards  of  invitation,  the  former  colleague  of  Endymion 
received  his  visitor  with  a  somewhat  haughty  and  reserved  air. 

"Well,  I  am  delighted  to  see  you  again,"  said  Endymion. 

No  reply  but  a  ceremonious  bow. 

*' And  to  congratulate  you,"  Endymion  added  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause  ;  "I  hear  of  nothing  but  of  your  book  ;  I  sup- 
pose one  of  the  most  successful  that  has  appeared  for  a  long 
time." 

''Its  success  is  not  owing  to  your  friends/'  said  Mr.  St. 
Barbe  tartly. 

"  My  friends,"  said  Endymion  ;  "  what  could  they  have 
done  to  prevent  it  p  -*' 

"  They  need  not  have  dissolved  Parliament,"  said  Mr.  St. 
Barbe  with  irritation.  "It  was  nearly  fatal  to  me;  it  would 
have  been  to  anybody  else.  I  was  selling  forty  thousand  a 
month  ;  I  believe  more  than  Gushy  ever  reached  ;  and  so  they 
dissolved  Parliament.  The  sale  went  down  half  at  once — and 
now  you  expect  me  to  support  your  party  ! " 

"  Well,  it  was  unfortunate,  but  the  dissolution  could  hardly 
have  done  you  any  permanent  injury,  and  you  could  scarcely 
expect  that  such  an  event  could  be  postponed  even  for  the  ad- 
vantage of  an  individual  so  distinguished  as  3'ourself." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  said  St.  Barbe,  apparently  a  little  molli- 
fied, "but  they  might  have  done  sometliing  to  show  their  re- 
gret at  it." 

"Something  !"  said  Endymion,  "what  sort  of  thing  ?" 

"  The  prime  minister  might  have  called  on  me,  or  at  least, 
have  written  to  me  a  letter.  I  want  none  of  their  honors  ;  I 
liave  scores  of  letters  every  day,  suggesting  that  some  high 
distinction  should  be  conferred  on  me.  I  believe  the  nation 
expects  me  to  be  made  a  baronet.     By  the  bye,  I  heard  the 


I 


TWO   OLD  FRIEXDS. 


355 


other  (liiy  you  luul  got  into  Parliament ;  I  know  nothing  of 
these  matters ;  they  do  not  interest  me  ;  is  it  the  fact  ?" 

"  Well,  I  was  so  fortunate,  and  there  are  others  of  your  old 
friends,  Trenchardfor  example."' 


(( 


You  do  not  mean  to  say  that  Trenchard  is  in  Parlia- 
ment ! "  said  St.  Barhc,  throwing  off  all  his  affected  reserve. 
'•  AVell,  it  is  too  disgusting  !  Trenchard  in  Parliament,  and  1 
obliged  to  think  it  a  great  favor  if  a  man  gives  me  ti  frank  ! 
Well,  representative  institutions  have  seen  their  day.  That  is 
something." 

"I  have  come  here  on  a  social  mission,"  said  Endymion  in 
a  '^ nothing  tone.  "'There  is  a  great  admirer  of  yours  Avho 
much  wishes  to  make  your  acquaintance.  Trusting  to  our  old 
intimacy,  of  Avhich  of  course  I  am  very  proud,  it  was  even 
hoped  that  you  might  waive  ceremony,  and  come  and  dine." 

''Quite  impossible,"  exclaimed  8t.  Barbe,  and  turning 
round,  he  pointed  to  the  legion  of  invitations  before  him. 
*' You  see,  the  world  is  at  my  feet.  I  remember  that  fcKow 
Seymour  Ilicks  taking  me  to  his  rooms  to  show  mc  a  card  he 
had  from  a  countess.     What  would  he  say  to  this  ?" 

''Well,  but  you  can  not  be  engaged  to  dinner  every  day," 
said  Endymion;  "and  you  really  may  choose  any  l:'-  you 
like." 

"  Well,  there  arc  not  many  dinners  among  them,  to  be 
sure,"  said  St.  Barbe.  "  Small  and  earlies.  How  I  hate  a 
'  small  and  early ! '  Shown  into  a  room  Avhcre  you  meet  a 
select  fcAV  who  have  been  asked  to  dinner,  and  who  arc  chew- 
ing the  cud  like  a  herd  of  kine,  and  you  are  expected  to  tum- 
ble before  them  to  assist  their  digestion  !  Faugh  !  N"o,  sir  ; 
we  only  dine  out  now,  and  avo  think  twice,  I  can  tell  you, 
before  avc  accept  even  an  invitation  to  dinner.  Who's  your 
friend?" 

'MVell,  my  friend  is  Lord  Montfort." 

"You  do  not  mean  to  sdy  that !  And  he  is  an  admirer  of 
mine  ?  " 

"An  enthusiastic  admirer." 

"  I  will  dine  with  Lord  Montfort.  There  is  no  one  who 
appreciates  so  completely  and  so  highly  the  old  nobility  of 


S56 


ENDYMWX. 


►I 


England  as  myself.  They  are  a  real  ari.^tocracy.  None  of  the 
pinchbeck  pedigrees  and  ormulu  titles  of  the  continent.  Lord 
Montfort  is,  I  think,  an  earl.  A  splendid  title,  earl  !  an  Eng- 
lish carl  ;  count  goes  for  nothing.  The  Earl  of  Montfort  ! 
An  enthusiastic  admirer  of  mine.  The  aristocracy  of  Eng- 
land, esiiecially  the  old  ari.stocracy,  arc  highly  cultivated. 
Sympathy  from  such  a  class  is  to  be  valued.  I  care  for 
no  other — I  have  always  despised  the  million  of  vulgar. 
They  have  come  to  me,  not  I  to  them,  and  I  have  alwayn 
told  them  the  truth  about  themselves,  that  they  are  a  race 
of  snobs,  and  they  rather  like  being  told  so.  And  now  for 
your  day  ?  " 

''  Why  not  this  day  if  you  be  free  ?  1  will  call  for  you 
about  eight,  and  take  you  in  my  brougham  to  Montfort 
House." 

'*  You  have  got  a  brougham  !  Well,  I  suppose  so,  being  a 
member  of  Parliament,  though  I  know  a  good  many  members 
of  Parliament  who  have  not  got  broughams.  But  your  family, 
I  remember,  married  into  the  swells.  I  do  not  grudge  it  you. 
You  were  always  a  good  comrade  to  me.  I  never  knew  a  man 
more  free  from  envy  than  \o\\,  Ferrars,  and  envy  is  an  odious 
vice.  There  arc  people  I  know,  who  Avhcn  they  hear  I  have 
dined  with  the  Earl  of  ]\rontfort,  will  invent  all  sorts  of  stories 
against  me,  and  send  them  to  what  they  call  the  journals  of 
.society." 

**  Well,  then,  it  shall  bo  to-day,"  said  Endymion,  rising. 

"It  shall  be  to-day,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  was  think- 
ing this  morning  where  I  should  dine  to-day.  What  I  miss 
here  are  the  cafes.  Now  in  Paris  you  can  dine  every  day  ex- 
actly as  it  suits  your  means  and  mood.  You  may  dine  for  a 
couple  of  francs  in  a  quiet  unknown  street,  and  very  well,  or 
yon  may  dine  for  a  couple  of  napoleons  in  a  flaming  saloon, 
with  windows  opening  on  a  crowded  bonle\ard.  London  is 
deficient  in  dining  capability." 

"  You  should  belong  to  a  club.     Do  you  not  ?  " 

"  So  I  was  told  by  a  friend  of  mine  the  other  da}' — one  of 
your  great  swells.  He  said  I  ought  to  belong  to  the  Athe- 
naeum, and  he  would  propose  me,  and  the  committee  would 


. ,~.— ^,-  ,...Mu*^»m 


A  BAD  STATE  OF  AFFAIRS. 


35r 


elect  mc  as  a  matter  of  course.  They  rejected  me  and  elected 
a  bishop.  And  then  people  are  surprised  that  the  Church  is 
in  danger ! " 


CHAPTER  LXXYIII. 


The  condition  of  England  at  the  meeting  of  Parliament  in 
184:^  Avas  not  satisfactory.  The  depression  of  trade  in  the 
manufacturing  districts  seemed  overwhelming,  and  continued 
increasing  during  the  whole  of  the  year.  A  memorial  from 
Stockport  to  the  Queen  in  the  spring  represented  that  moro 
than  half  the  master  spinners  had  failed,  and  that  no  less  than 
three  thousand  dwelling-houses  were  untenanted.  One  fifth 
of  the  population  of  Leeds  were  dependent  on  the  poor-rates. 
The  state  of  Sheffield  was  not  less  severe — and  the  blast  fur- 
naces of  Wolverhampton  were  extinguished.  There  Averc  al- 
most daily  meetings,  at  Liverpool,  Manchester,  and  Leeds,  to 
consider  the  great  and  increasing  distress  of  the  country,  and 
to  induce  ministers  to  bring  forward  remedial  measures  ;  but, 
as  these  were  impossible,  violence  was  soon  substituted  for  pas- 
sionate appeals  to  the  fears  or  the  humanity  of  the  govern- 
ment. Vast  bodies  of  the  population  assembled  in  Stalybridge, 
and  Ashton,  and  Oldham,  and  marched  into  Manchester. 

For  a  week  the  rioting  was  unchecked,  but  the  govern- 
ment dispatched  a  strong  military  force  to  that  city,  and  order 
was  restored. 

The  state  of  affairs  in  Scotland  was  not  more  favorable. 
There  Avere  food  riots  in  several  of  the  Scotch  towns,  and  in 
Glasgow  the  multitude  assembled,  and  then  commenced  what 
they  called  a  begging  tour,  but  which  was  really  a  progress  of 
not  disguised  intimidation.  The  economic  crisis  in  Ireland  Avas 
yet  to  come,  but  the  whole  of  that  country  was  absorbed  in  a 
harassing  and  dangerous  agitation  for  the  repeal  of  the  union 
betAveen  the  two  countries. 

During  all  this  time,  the  Anti-Corn-LaAV  League  Avas  hold- 
ing regular  and  frequent  meetings  at  Manchester,  at  which 


.' ')  O  ^ 


exdymion: 


W 


stiitemeiits  were  iikkIc  distinguished  l)y  great  C'l.xiiicnce  and 
little  scru])lG.  IJiit  tho  able  leaders  of  this  con federaey  never 
succeeded  in  enlisting  the  sympathies  of  the  great  body  of  the 
poi)ulation.  Between  the  masters  and  the  workmen  there  was 
an  alienation  of  feeling,  which  apj>arently  never  could  be  re- 
moved. This  reserve,  however,  did  not  enli-i  the  Avorking 
classes  on  the  side  of  the  government ;  they  had  their  own 
object,  and  one  Avhich  they  themselves  enthusiastically  cher- 
ished. And  this  was  the  Charter,  a  political  settlement  which 
was  to  restore  the  golden  age,  and  which  the  master  manufac- 
turers and  the  middle  classes  generally  looked  upon  with  even 
more  apprehension  than  Iler  Majesty's  advisers.  It  is  hardly 
necessary  to  add,  ihat  in  a  state  of  affairs  like  that  which  is 
here  faintly  but  still  faithfully  sketched,  the  rapid  diminution 
of  the  revenue  was  inevitable,  and  of  course  that  decline  main- 
ly occurred  in  the  two  all-important  branches  of  the  customs 
and  excise. 

There  was  another  great  misfortune  also  which  at  this  tr}'- 
ing  time  hung;  over  England.  Tho  country  was  dejected. 
The  humiliating  disasters  of  Afghanistan,  dark  narratives  of 
which  were  peiiodically  arriving,  had  produced  a  more  depress- 
ing effect  on  the  spirit  of  the  country  than  all  the  victories 
and  menaces  of  Xapoleon  in  the  heyday  of  his  wild  career.  At 
home  and  abroad,  there  seemed  nothing  to  sustain  the  national 
spirit ;  financial  embarrassment,  commercial  and  manufacturing 
distress,  social  and  political  agitation  on  the  one  hand,  and  on 
the  other,  the  loss  of  armies,  of  reputation,  perhaps  of  empire. 
It  Avas  true  that  these  external  misfortunes  could  hardly  be 
attribulod  to  the  new  ministry — but  when  a  nation  is  thor- 
oughly perplexed  and  dispirited,  they  soon  cease  to  make  dis- 
tinctions between  political  parties.  The  country  is  out  of 
sorts,  and  the  ''government"  is  held  answerable  for  the  dis- 
order. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen,  that,  though  the  new  ministry  were 
supported  by  a  commanding  majority  in  Parliament,  and  that, 
too,  after  a  recent  appeal  to  tho  country,  they  were  not  popu- 
lar ;  it  may  be  truly  said  they  were  even  tlie  reverse.  The 
opposition,  on  the  contrary,  notwithstanding  their  discomfiture, 


1 


.1  M'JW  CHANNEL. 


351) 


ai)ci,  on  some  subject-,  tlieir  di.-;gnice,  were  by  no  means  dis- 
liearfened,  and  believed  tliat  tlierc  were  economical  causes  at 
work,  which  mu^^t  soon  restore  tliem  to  power. 

Tlie  minister  brouglit  forward  liis  revision  of  the  tariff, 
which  was  denounced  by  the  League  as  futile,  and  in  whicli 
anathema  the  o])position  soon  found  it  convenient  to  agree. 
Ilitd  the  minister  included  in  his  mea-nre  that  '"total  and  im- 
mediate repeal''  of  the  existin'j;  corn  laws  which  was  preached 
by  many  as  a  panacea,  the  clfect  would  have  been  i»robably 
much  the  same.  No  doubt  a  tariff  may  aggravate,  or  may 
mitigate,  such  a  condition  of  commercial  depression  as  period- 
ically visits  a  s  ate  of  society  like  that  of  England,  but  it  does 
not  produce  it.  It  was  produced  in  18-i3,  as  it  has  been  pro- 
duced at  the  present  time,  by  an  abuse  of  ca])ital  and  credit, 
and  by  a  degree  of  production  which  the  wants  of  the  world 
have  not  warranted. 

And  yet  all  this  time,  there  were  certain  influences  at  work 
in  the  great  body  of  the  nation,  neitiier  foreseen,  nor  for  some 
time  recognized,  by  statesmen  and  those  great  capitalists  on 
whose  opinion  statesmen  mucli  d('i)cnd,  which  were  stirring,  as 
it  were,  like  the  unconscious  power  of  the  forces  of  nature,  and 
whicli  Avere  destined  to  baftle  all  the  calculations  of  persons  in 
authority  and  the  leading  spirits  of  all  parties,  strengthen  a 
per2)lcxed  administration,  confound  a  sanguine  opposition, 
render  all  the  rhetoric,  statistics  and  subscriptions  of  the  Anti- 
Corn-Law  League  fruitless,  and  absolutely  make  the  Chartists 
forget  the  Charter. 

*'  My  friends  will  not  assist  themselves  by  resisting  the  gov- 
ernment measures,"  said  Mr.  Xeuchatel,  with  his  usual  calm 
smile,  half  skeptical,  half  sympathetic.  "  The  measures  will 
do  no  good,  but  they  will  do  no  harm.  There  are  no  measures 
that  will  do  any  good  at  this  moment.  We  do  not  want  meas- 
ures ;  what  we  want  is  a  new  channel." 

That  is  exactly  what  was  wanted.  There  wa-'  abundant 
capital  in  the  country  and  a  mass  of  unemployed  labor.  But 
the  markets  on  whicli  they  had  of  late  depended,  the  American 
especially,  were  overworked  and  overstocked,  and  in  some  in- 
stances were  not  only  overstocked,  but  disturbed  by  war,  as 


300 


END  nrroy. 


the  Chinese,  for  example — tiiul  cai>ital  a!ul  labor  wanted  ''a 
new  channel." 

The  new  channel  came,  and  all  the  persons  of  authority, 
alike  political  and  commercial,  seemed  quite  surprised  that  it 
had  arrived  ;  but  when  a  thing  or  a  man  are  wanted,  they  gen- 
erally appear.  One  or  two  lines  of  railway,  which  had  been 
long  sleepily  in  formation,  about  this  time  wore  finished,  and 
one  or  two  lines  of  railway,  which  had  been  finished  for  some 
time  and  Averc  unnoticed,  announced  dividends  and  not  con- 
temptible ones.  Suddenly  there  was  a  general  feeling  in  the 
country,  that  its  capital  should  be  invested  in  railways  ;  that 
the  whole  surface  of  the  land  should  be  transformed,  and  cov- 
ered, as  by  a  network,  Avith  these  mighty  means  of  communica- 
tion. When  the  passions  of  the  English,  naturally  an  enthu- 
siastic people,  are  excited  on  a  subject  of  finance,  their  will, 
their  determination,  and  resource,  are  irresistible.  This  was 
signally  proved  in  the  present  instance,  for  they  never  ceased 
subscribing  their  capital  until  the  sum  intrusted  to  this  new 
form  of  investment  reached  an  amount  almost  equal  to  the  na- 
tional debt ;  and  this  too  in  a  very  few  years.  The  immediate 
effect  on  the  condition  of  the  country  was  absolutely  prodigious. 
The  value  of  land  rose,  all  the  blast  furnaces  were  relit,  a  stim- 
ulant was  given  to  every  branch  of  the  home  trade,  the  amount 
suddenly  paid  in  wages  exceeded  that  ever  known  in  this  coun- 
try, and  wages  too  at  a  high  rate.  Large  portions  of  the  labor- 
ing classes  not  only  enjoyed  comfort  but  commanded  luxury. 
All  this  of  course  soon  acted  on  the  revenue,  and  both  customs 
and  especially  excise  soon  furnished  an  ample  surjilus. 

It  can  not  be  pretended  that  all  this  energy  and  enterprise 
were  free  in  their  ojieration  from  tliose  evils  which,  it  seems, 
must  inevitably  attend  any  extensive  public  speculation,  how- 
ever well  founded.  Many  of  the  scenes  and  circumstances  re- 
called the  days  of  the  South  Sea  Scheme.  The  gambling  in 
shares  of  companies  whicli  were  formed  07ily  in  name  Avas  Avith- 
out  limit.  The  principal  toAvns  of  the  north  established  for 
ck  exchanofes  of  their  oAvn,  and  Le 


i)urpose 


especially, 


one  fifth  of  Avliose  population  had  been  authoritatiA'cly  described 
in  the  first  session  of  the  ncAv  Parliament  as  dependent  on  the 


liV 


^-^ 


J    liKVIVAL    or  TRADE. 


3«U 


lilted 


(< 


a 


uthority, 
\  tluit  it 
tlicy  gen- 
luul  been 
lied,  and 
for  somo 
not  con- 
ig  in  tlio 
ys ;  that 
and  cov- 
imunica- 
n  entlin- 
licir  will, 
riiis  was 
21'  ceased 
this  new 
)  the  na- 
imcdiuto 
digioiTs. 
a  stim- 
amoiint 
lis  Conn- 
ie labor- 
luxury, 
customs 

itcrprisG 
;  seems, 
11,  liow- 
uces  re- 
3liiig  in 
as  Avith- 
lied  for 
lecially, 
escribed 
on  the 


4 


poor-rate^,  now  boa>:tcd  of  a  stock  exchange  wliicli  in  tlie  ex- 
tent of  its  transactions  rivaled  that  of  the  metropolis.  And 
tlie  gambling  was  universal,  from  the  noble  to  the  mechanic. 
It  was  conlined  to  no  class  and  to  no  sex.  The  scene  which 
took  place  at  the  Board  of  Trade  on  the  last  day  on  which  plans 
could  be  lodged,  and  when  midnight  had  arrived  while  crowds 
from  the  country  were  still  lllling  the  h'.ll,  and  pressing  at  the 
doors,  deserved  and  re(pilred  for  itsadcciuate  rei)reseiitat!on  the 
genius  of  a  Hogarth.  This  was  the  day  on  which  it  was  an- 
nounced that  the  total  number  of  railway  projects,  on  which 
deposits  had  been  paid,  had  reached  nearly  to  eight  hundred. 

What  is  remarkable  in  this  vast  movement  in  which  so 
many  millions  were  produced,  and  so  many  more  promised, 
was,  that  the  great  loaders  of  the  financial  world  took  no  i)art 
In  it.  The  mighty  loan-mongers  on  whose  fiat  the  fate  of  kings 
and  emi)ircs  sometimes  depended,  seemed  like  men  who,  wit- 
nessing some  eccentricity  of  nature,  Avatcli  it  with  mixed  feel- 
ings of  curiosity  and  alarm.  Even  Lombard  Street,  wliicli 
never  Avas  more  Avanted,  Avas  inactive,  and  it  Avas  only  by  the 
irresistible  pressure  of  circumstances  that  a  banking  firm  Avhich 
had  an  extensive  country  connection  was  forced  ultimately  tO' 
take  the  leading  part  that  Avas  required,  and  almost  uncon- 
sciously lay  the  foundation  of  the  A'ast  fortunes  Avhicli  it  has 
realized,  and  organize  the  A'aried  connection  which  it  noAV  com- 
mands. All  seemed  to  come  from  the  jiroviuccs,  tind  from 
unknoAvn  peoi)le  in  the  provinces. 

But  in  all  afl^'alrs  there  must  be  a  leader,  and  a  leader  ap- 
peared, lie  Avas  more  remarkable  than  the  movement  itself. 
lie  Avas  a  London  tradesman,  though  a  member  of  Parliament 
returned  for  the  first  time  to  this  House  of  Commons.  This 
leader  Ava.;  Mr.  Vigo. 

Mr.  Vigo  l:'id  foreseen  Avhat  Avas  coming  and  had  ])rei)ared 
for  it.  lie  agreed  Avitli  Mr.  Xeiichatel,  Avhat  Avas  Avaiited  Avas 
''a  new  channel. "  That  channel  lie  thought  he  had  discGA'- 
ercd,  and  he  aAvaited  it.  He  himself  could  command  no  incon- 
siderable amount  of  capital,  and  he  had  a  folloAving  of  obscure 
rich  friends  Avho  belicA'cd  in  him,  and  did  Avliat  he  liked.  Ilis 
daily  visits  to  the  City,  except  Avhen  he  Avas  traveling  OA'cr  Eng- 

10 


362 


ENDYMIOX. 


I'it-i 


land,  and  especially  the  north  and  midland  counties,  had  their 
purpose  and  bore  fruit.  He  was  a  director,  and  soon  the  chair- 
man and  leading  spirit,  of  a  railway  which  was  destined  to  be 
perhaps  our  most  important  one.  He  was  master  of  all  the 
details  of  the  business ;  he  had  arrived  at  conclusions  on  the 
(piestion  of  the  gauges,  which  then  was  a  ^;o«s  asinorum  for 
the  multitude,  and  understood  all  about  rolling  stock  and  per- 
manent ways,  and  sleepers  and  branch  lines,  which  were  then 
cabalistic  terms  to  the  general.  In  his  first  session  in  Parlia- 
ment he  had  passed  quietly  and  almost  unnoticed  several  bills 
on  these  matters,  and  began  to  be  recognized  by  the  Cummit- 
tee  of  Selection  as  a  member  who  ought  to  be  "^ put  on"  for 
(piestions  of  this  kind. 

The  great  occasion  had  arrived,  and  Mr.  Vigo  was  equal  to 
it.  He  was  one  of  those  few  men  who  awake  one  day  and  lind 
themselvc:  famous.  Suddenly  it  would  seem  that  the  name  of 
Mr.  Vigo  was  in  everybody's  mouth.  Tlierc  was  only  one  sub- 
ject which  interested  the  country,  and  he  Avas  recognized  as 
the  man  who  best  understood  it.  He  was  an  oracle,  and,  nat- 
urally, soon  became  an  idol.  The  tariff  of  the  ministers  was 
forgotten,  tlic  invectives  of  the  League  were  disregarded,  their 
motions  for  the  repeal  of  the  corn  laws  were  invariably  defeated 
by  large  and  contemptuous  majorities.  The  House  of  Com- 
mons did  nothing  but  pass  railway  bills,  measures  which  were 
welcomed  with  unanimity  by  the  House  of  Lords,  Avhose  estates 
were  in  consequence  daily  increasing  in  value.  People  went  to 
the  gallery  to  see  Mr.  Vigo  introduce  bills,  and  could  scarcely 
restrain  their  enthusiasm  at  the  spectacle  of  so  much  patriotic 
energy,  whicli  secured  for  them  premiums  for  shares,  which 
they  held  in  undertakings  of  which  the  first  sod  was  not  yet 
cut.  On  one  morning,  the  Great  Cloudland  Company,  of 
Avhich  he  was  chairman,  gave  their  rpproval  of  twenty-six  bills, 
Avhich  he  immediately  introduced  into  Parliament.  Next  day 
the  Ebor  and  North  Cloudland  sanctioned  six  bills  under  his 
advice,  and  affirmed  deeds  and  agreements  which  affected  all 
the  principal  railway  projects  in  Lancashire  and  Yorkshire.  A 
(quarter  of  an  hour  later,  just  time  to  hurry  from  one  meeting 
to  another,  Avliere  he  was  ahvays  received  with  rampant  enthu- 


FlilFyDL  Y  0  VER TURES. 


363 


niasm,  Newcastle  and  the  extreme  nortli  accepted  liis  dicta- 
torship. During  a  portion  of  two  days,  ho  obtained  the  con- 
sent of  shareholders  to  forty  bills  involving  an  expenditure  of 
ten  millions  ;  and  the  engagements  for  one  session  alone  amount- 
ed to  one  hundred  and  thirty  millions  sterling. 

Mr.  Neuchatcl  shrugged  his  shoulders,  but  no  one  would 
listen  even  to  Mr.  Neuchatel,  when  the  prime  minister  liimsolf, 
supposed  to  be  the  most  wary  of  men,  and  especiidly  on  financial 
subjects,  in  the  very  white  heat  of  all  this  speculation,  liimself 
raised  the  first  sod  on  his  own  estat?  in  a  project  of  extent  and 
importance. 

Throughout  these  extraordinary  scenes,  ^[r.  Vigo,  thongli 
not  free  from  excitement,  exhibited,  on  the  whole,  much  self- 
control.  He  was  faithful  to  his  old  friends,  and  no  one  prof- 
ited more  in  this  respect  than  Mr.  Rodney.  That  gentleman 
became  the  director  of  several  lines,  and  vice-chairman  of  one 
over  which  Mr.  Vigo  himself  presided.  No  one  was  surprised 
tliat  Mr.  Rodney  tliorefore  should  enter  Parliament,  lie  came 
in  by  virtue  of  one  of  those  i)etitions  that  Taapolo  Avas  always 
cooking  or  baffling.  ]Mr.  Rodney  Avas  a  supporter  of  tlie  min- 
istry, and  Mr.  Vigo  was  a  Liberal,  but  Mr.  Vigo  refunded  ^h\ 
Rodney  to  Parliament  all  tlie  same,  and  no  one  seemed  aston- 
ished or  complained.  Political  connection,  political  consistency, 
pfilitical  principle,  all  vanished  before  the  fascination  of  pre- 
miums. 

As  for  Endymion,  the  great  man  made  him  friendly  and 
jarnest  overtures,  and  offered,  if  he  would  give  his  time  to  busi- 
ness, which,  as  he  was  in  opposition,  would  be  no  great  sacri- 
fice, to  promote  and  secure  his  fortune.  But  Endymion,  after 
due  reflection,  declined,  though  witli  gratitude,  these  tempting 
proposals.  Ferrars  was  an  ambitious  nnm,  but  not  too  imagi- 
native a  one.  He  liad  a  main  object  in  life,  and  that  was  to 
regain  the  position  which  had  been  forfeited,  not  by  his  own 
fault.  His  grandfather  and  liis  fatlier  had  both  been  privy 
councilors  and  ministers  of  state.  There  hatl,  indeed,  been 
more  than  the  prospect  of  liis  father  filling  a  A'ery  prominent 
position.  All  had  been  lost,  but  the  secret  purpose  of  the  life 
of  Endymion  was  that,  from  Ijc-ng  a  clerk  in  a  public  office,  ho 


3(U 


EMjY.UFOX. 


Mi 


I 


! 


w 


should  arrive  by  his  oun  tiiergies  at  the  statit-n  to  whicli  lie 
sGcmcd,  as  it  were,  horn.  To  acconiplisli  this  lie  felt  that  tlio 
entire  devotion  of  his  hihcir  ami  thought  were  requisite.  Ilis 
character  Avas  essentially  tenacious,  and  he  had  already  realized 
no  inconsiderable  amount  of  political  knowledge  and  oflicial 
exi)erience.  His  object  seemed  difficult  and  distant,  hut  there 
was  notliing  wild  or  visionary  in  its  pursuit.  He  had  achieved 
some  of  the  first  steps,  and  he  was  yet  very  young.  There 
were  friends  about  him,  however,  who  Avero  not  content  with 
what  they  deemed  his  moderate  ambition,  and  thouglit  they 
discerned  in  him  qualities  which  might  enable  him  to  mount 
to  ji  higher  stage.  However  this  might  be,  his  judgment  Avas 
that  he  must  resist  the  ofiers  of  Mr.  Vigo,  though  they  Avcro 
sincerely  kind,  and  so  he  felt  them. 

In  the  mean  time  he  frequently  met  that  gentleman,  and  not 
merely  in  the  House  of  Commons.  ]\Ir.  St.  Barbe  Avould  have 
been  frantically  envious  could  he  Iuia'c  Aritnes'cd  and  perused 
the  social  invitations  that  fell  like  a  continuous  snoAV-storm  on 
the  favored  roof  of  Mr,  Vig').  ]\Ir.  Vigo  Avas  not  a  party  ques- 
tion. He  dined  Avith  high  patricians  Avho  forgot  their  political 
ditTerenccs,  Avhile  they  agretd  in  courting  the  presence  of  this 
great  benefactor  of  his  country.  The  fine  ladies  AA'crc  as  eager 
in  their  homage  to  this  real  patriot,  and  he  might  bo  seen  be- 
tAveon  riA'al  countesses  Avho  emulated  each  other  in  their  appre- 
ciation of  his  public  services.  These  Avero  Mr.  Vigo's  danger- 
ous suitors.  He  confessed  to  Endymion  one  day  that  he  could 
not  manage  the  great  ladies.  "Male  swells,"  he  Avould  say 
laughingl}',  "I  luwe  measured  })hysically  and  intellectually." 
The  golden  youth  of  the  country  seemed  indeed  fascinated  by 
his  society,  repeated  liis  sententious  bon-mots,  and  aivplicd  for 
shares  in  every  company  which  he  launched  into  i)rosperou3 
existence. 

Mr.  Vigo  purchased  a  splendid  mansion  in  St.  James' 
Square,  Avliere  invitations  to  his  ban(iuets  AA'ere  looked  upon 
almost  as  commands.  His  chief  cook  Avas  one  of  the  celebri- 
ties of  Europe,  and  though  he  had  served  emiierors,  the  salary 
he  received  from  Mr.  Vigo  exceeded  any  one  he  Jiad  hitherto 
condescended  to  pocket.    3[r.  Vigo  bought  estates,  hired  moors, 


JOB   TnORXBERJ^Y'S  POSITIOX. 


?.q:-> 


lavi.slicd  liis  money,  not  only  -with  })rofusion,  but  -witli  generos- 
ity. Everything  Avas  placed  at  hi.s  command,  and  it  ai)peared 
that  there  was  nothing  tliat  he  refused.  ''When  the  excite- 
ment is  over,"  said  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine,  ''  I  hope  to  induce 
liim  to  take  India."' 

In  the  midst  of  tliis  commanding  effulgence,  the  calmer 
heam  of  Mr.  Kodney  miglit  naturally  pass  unnoticed,  yet  its 
brightness  was  clear  and  sustained.  The  Kodneys  engaged  a 
dwelling  of  no  mean  ])roportion  in  that  favored  district  of  South 
Kensinuton,  which  was  then  l^o-jinnino:  to  assume  the  liioh 
character  it  has  since  obtained.  Tlieir  Cfiuipagcs  were  distin- 
guished, and  when  Mrs.  liodncy  entered  the  Park,  driving  her 
matchless  ponies,  and  attended  l)y  outriders,  and  herself  bright 
as  Diana,  the  world  leaning  over  its  palings  witnessed  her  ap- 
pearance with  equal  delight  and  admiration. 


CIIAPTEK   LXXIX. 

We  have  rather  anticipated,  fur  the  sake  of  the  subject  in 
our  last  chapter,  and  we  must  now  recur  to  the  time  when,  after 
his  return  from  Paris,  Endymion  entered  into  what  was  virtually 
his  first  session  in  the  House  of  Ccmmons.  Though  in  ojipo- 
sition,  and  with  all  the  delights  of  the  most  charming  society 
at  his  command,  he  was  an  habitual  and  constant  attendant. 
One  might  have  Ijeen  tempted  to  believe  that  he  would  turn 
out  to  be,  though  a  Avorking.  only  a  silent  member,  but  his 
silence  was  only  prudence.  He  was  deeply  interested  aiul 
amused  in  watching  the  proceedings,  especially  when  tlio-o 
took  part  in  them  Avitli  whom  he  wjs  acquainted.  Job  Tlu^rii- 
berry  occupied  a  leading  position  in  the  debates.  He  addressed 
the  House  very  shortly  after  he  took  his  seat,  and  having  a 
purpose  and  a  most  earnest  one,  and  being  what  is  styled  a 
representative  man  of  his  subject,  the  House  listened  to  him  at 
once,  and  his  place  in  debate  was  immediately  recognized. 
The  times  favored  him,  especially  during  the  first  and  seeor.d 
session,  while  the  commercial  de})re-sion  lasted  ;   after^^ard,  l.c 


3G0 


EXDYMIOX. 


was  listened  to,  because  he  had  great  oratorical  gifts,  a  persua- 
sive style  that  was  winning,  and,  though  he  had  no  inconsider- 
able poAvers  of  sarcasm,  his  extreme  tact  wisely  guided  him  to 
restrain  for  the  iircsent  tluit  dangerous,  though  most  '^Tective, 
weapon. 

Tlie  Pythagorean  school,  as  Waldershare  styled  Mr.  Bertie 
Trcmaine  and  his  following,  very  mucli  amused  Endymion. 
The  heaven-born-minister  air  of  the  great  leader  was  strik- 
ing, lie  never  smiled,  or  at  any  rate  contemptuously.  K^o- 
tice  of  a  question  was  sometimes  publicly  given  from  this 
bencli,  but  so  abstruse  in  its  nature  and  so  quaint  iu  its  expres- 
sion, that  the  House  never  comprehended  it,  and  the  unfortu- 
nate minister  who  had  to  answer,  even  Avith  twenty-four  hours' 
study,  Avas  obliged  t<^  commence  hi  eply  by  a  conjectural  in- 
terpretation of  the  query  formally  addressed  to  him.  But 
thou<2-h  thev  Avere  silent  in  the  House,  their  views  Avere  other- 
Avise  poAverfully  represented.  The  Aveehly  journal  dcAoted  to 
their  i)rineiples  Avas  sedulously  circulated  among  members  of 
the  House.  It  was  called  '•  The  Precursor,'-  and  systematically 
atta  1  not  only  every  institution,  but,  it  might  be  said,  every 
hiAv,  and  all  the  manners  and  customs,  of  the  country.  Its 
style  Avas  remarkable  :  never  excited  or  impassioned,  but  frigid, 
logical,  and  incisive,  and  suggesting  appalling  revolutions  Avitli 
the  calmness  Avitli  Avhich  one  Avould  narrate  the  ordinary  inci- 
dents of  life.  The  editor  of  ''The  Precursor"  Avas  Mr.  JaAvett, 
selected  by  that  gre.it  master  of  human  miture,  Mr.  Bertie  Trc- 
maine. "When  it  got  about,  that  the  editor  of  this  fearful  jour- 
nal Avas  a  clerk  in  a  i>ublic  oilice,  the  indi^.^ation  of  the  govern- 
ment, or  at  least  of  their  supporters,  Avas  extreme,  and  there 
Avas  no  end  to  the  puni.'-hments  and  disgrace  to  Avhich  he  Avas  to 
be  subjected  ;  but  W..!dershare,  Avho  lived  a  gjod  deal  in  Bohe- 
mia, Avas  essentially  cosmopolitan,  and  dabbled  in  letters, 
persuaded  his  colleagues  not  to  make  the  editor  of  the  "  Pre- 
cursor" a  martyr,  and  undertook  Avith  their  authority  to 
counteract  his  evil  jnirpose  by  literary  means  alone. 

Being  fully  empoAvered  to  take  all  necessary  ste])s  for  this 
object,  "^'(^aldershare  thought  that  there  Avas  no  better  mode  of 
iiiTCsting  })u;>lic  attention  to  his  enterprise  than  by  engagi..^ 


»•■- 

I 


1 

ii 

1 

i 

Drsuji- 
sider- 
ini  to 
ctive. 

»ertio 

A 

EXDYMIOX'S  FIRST  ATTEMPT. 


307 


for  its  manager  tlic  most  renowned  pen  of  the  liour,  and  lie 
oi)ened  himself  on  the  subject  in  tlie  most  sacred  confidence  to 
Mr.  St.  Barhe.  That  gentleman,  invited  to  call  upon  a  minis- 
ter, s'vorn  to  secrecy,  and  brimful  of  state  secrets,  could  not 
long  restrain  himself,  and  'vith  admirable  discretion  consulted 
on  his  views  and  prospects  Mr.  Endymion  Ferrars. 

*'But  I  thought  you  were  one  of  us,"  said  Endymion; 
'*you  asked  me  to  put  you  in  the  Avay  of  getting  into 
Brookes'  ?  *' 

"AVhat  of  that?-'  said  Mr.  St.  Barbc  ;  ^'and  when  you 
remember  what  the  Whigs  owe  to  literary  men,  they  ought  to 
have  elected  me  into  Brookes'  without  my  asking  for  it." 

"  Still,  if  vou  be  on  the  other  side  ?  " 

**It  is  nothing  to  do  with  sides,"  said  Mr.  St.  Barbe  ;  ''  this 
affair  goes  far  beyond  sides.  The  '  Precursor '  wants  to  put 
down  the  Crown  ;  I  shall  i)ut  down  the  '  Precursor.'  It  is  an 
affair  of  tho  ioset,  not  of  sides — an  afPair  of  the  royal  closet, 
sir.  I  am  .  ocmg  for  tlie  Crown,  sir  ;  the  Crown  has  appealed 
to  me.  I  save  the  Crown,  and  there  must  be  personal  relations 
with  the  highest,"  and  he  looked  quite  fierce. 

'MVcll,  you  have  not  written  your  first  article  yet,"  said 
Endymion.  "I  shall  look  forward  to  it  with  much  in- 
tcrest." 

After  Easter,  Lord  Roehampton  said  to  Endymion  that  a 
(piestion  ought  to  be  put  on  a  subject  of  foreign  policy  of  im- 
portance, and  on  which  he  thought  the  ministry  were  in  diffi- 
culties ;  *'  And  1  think  you  might  as  well  ask  it,  Endymion.  I 
A\ill  draw  up  the  cpiestion,  and  you  Avill  give  notice  of  it.  It 
will  bo  a  reconnoissance." 

The  notice  of  ihis  question  was  the  first  time  Endymion 
<)l)ened  his  mouth  in  the  House  of  Commons.  It  was  an  hum- 
ble and  ?iot  a  very  hazardous  office,  but  when  ho  got  on  his 
legs  his  head  swam,  his  heart  beat  so  violently  that  it  was  like 
a  convulsion  preceding  death,  and  though  he  was  only  on  his 
legs  for  a  fcAV  seconds,  all  the  sorrows  of  his  life  seemed  to  pass 
before  him.  When  ho  sat  dow'n,  he  was  quite  surprised  that 
the  business  of  the  house  proceeded  as  usual,  and  it  was  only 
after  some  time  that  he  became  convinced  that  no  one  but  him- 


11 


368 


END  YMIOX. 


8olf  WHS  conscious  of  his  sufferings,  or  that  lie  had  performed  a 
routine  duty  otlierwiso  than  in  a  routine  manner. 

The  crafty  question,  however,  led  to  some  important  con- 
sequences. When  asked,  to  the  surprise  of  every  one  the  min- 
ister himself  replied  to  it.  AValdersharo,  Avith  whom  En- 
dymion  dined  at  Bellamy's  that  day,  was  in  no  good  humor  in 
consequence. 

When  Lord  Tlocliampton  had  considered  the  ministerial 
rej)ly,  he  said  to  Endymion,  "This  must  he  followed  up.  You 
must  move  for  pajiers.  It  will  he  a  good  oiijjortunity  for  you, 
for  the  House  is  up  to  something  heing  in  the  wind  and  they 
■will  listen.  It  will  he  curious  to  see  Avhether  the  minister  fol- 
lows you.     If  so,  he  will  give  me  an  opening." 

Endymion  felt  that  this  Avas  the  crisis  of  his  life.  lie  knew 
the  subject  well,  and  he  had  all  the  tact  and  experience  of 
Lord  Ivochampton  to  guide  him  in  his  statement  and  his  argu- 
ments. He  had  also  the  great  feeling  that,  if  necessary,  a 
powerful  arm  Avould  sui)i)ort  him.  It  Avas  jibout  a  Avcek  l)eforo 
the  day  arrived,  and  Endymion  slcjjt  A'cry  little  that  AVcek,  and 
the  night  before  his  motion  not  a  Avink.  lie  almost  Avished  ho 
•was  dead  as  he  walked  down  to  the  House  in  the  hope  that  the 
exercise  might  remedy,  or  improve,  his  languid  circulation  ; 
"but  in  A'ain,  and  Avhen  his  name  Avas  called  and  he  had  to  rise, 
his  hands  and  feet  Avere  like  ice. 

Lady  Roehampton  and  Lady  ]\Iontfort  Avcro  Ijolh  in  the 
ventilator,  and  ho  kncAV  it. 

It  might  be  said  that  he  Avas  sustained  by  his  utter  despair. 
He  felt  so  feeble  and  generally  imbecile,  that  he  had  not  vital- 
ity enough  to  be  sensible  of  failure. 

He  had  a  kind  audience,  and  an  interested  one.  When  ho 
o})ened  his  mouth,  he  forgot  his  first  sentence,  Avhich  he  had 
long  prepared.  In  trying  to  recall  it  and  failing,  he  was  for  a 
moment  confused.  But  it  AA'as  only  for  a  moment ;  the  un- 
premeditated came  to  his  aid,  and  his  A'oice,  at  first  tremulous, 
Avas  recognized  as  distinct  and  rich.  There  Avas  a  murmur  of 
t^ympathy,  and  not  merely  from  his  own  side.  Suddenly,  both 
physically  and  intellectually  he  Avas  quite  liimself.  His  ar- 
rested circulation  flowed,  and  fed  his  stagnant  brain.     His 


\ 


WA  LDER^IL  1  A'/;   ESRA  G  ED. 


8(;',) 


rmccl  11 

t  con- 
ic min- 
Eu- 

inor  in 


btcitemont  was  lucid,  his  iirgunu'iit-;  Averc  difticuU  to  encounter, 
and  his  manner  Avas  modest.  He  sat  down  amid  general  aji- 
planse,  and  though  he  was  then  conscious  that  lie  had  omitted 
more  than  one  point  on  whicli  he  had  relied,  ho  was  on  the 
whole  satisfied,  and  recollected  that  he  niiglit  use  them  in 
reply,  a  privilege  to  which  he  now  looked  J'oi-ward  with  feelings 
of  comfort  and  confidence. 

The  minister  again  followed  liim,  and  in  an  elaljorate  speech. 
The  subject,  evidently  in  the  opinion  of  the  minister,  was  of 
too  delicate  and  diflicult  a  character  to  trust  to  a  subordinate. 
Overwhelmed  as  he  was  Avitli  the  labors  of  his  own  dei)artment, 
the  general  conduct  of  alfairs,  and  the  leadership  of  the  House, 
he  still  would  undertake  the  representation  of  an  oflice  with 
"whose  business  he  was  not  familiar.  Wary  and  accurate  he 
always  was,  but  in  discussions  on  foreign  alfairs,  he  never  ex- 
hibited the  unrivaled  facility  with  which  he  ever  treated  a  com- 
mercial or  financial  rpiestion,  or  that  plausible  promptness  with 
Avliich  at  a  moment's  notice,  he  could  encounter  any  dilliculty 
connected  with  domestic  administration. 

All  these  "were  qualities  which  Lord  Roehampton  possessed 
"with  reference  to  the  affairs  over  whicli  he  had  long  jircsided, 
and  in  the  present  instance,  following  the  minister,  lie  was 
particularly  happy.  He  had  a  good  case,  and  lie  was  gratified 
by  the  success  of  Endymion.  He  ooniplimented  him  and  con- 
futed his  opponent,  and  not  satisfied  with  demolishing  his 
arguments,  Lord  Roeliampt<»n  indulged  in  a  little  raillery  Avhicli 
the  House  enjoyed,  but  which  was  never  pleasing  to  the  more 
solemn  organization  of  his  rival. 

Xo  language  can  describe  the  fury  of  Waldershare  as  to  the 
events  of  this  evening.  He  looked  upon  the  conduct  of  the 
minister,  in  not  permitting  him  to  represent  his  department, 
as  a  decree  of  the  incapacity  of  his  su])ordinaLe,  and  of  the  vir- 
tual termination  of  the  official  career  of  the  Lender-Secretary 
of  State.  Ho  would  have  resigned  the  next  day  had  it  not 
been  for  the  influence  of  Lady  Beaumaris,  Avho  soothed  him  by 
suggesting,  that  it  would  be  better  to  take  an  early  opportunity 
of  changing  his  present  post  for  another. 

The  minister  was  Avrong.     He  "SA'as  not  fond  of  trustina: 


^70 


EXDYMfON. 


youtli,  but  it  is  a  coiificlencc  which  should  be  exercised,  par- 
ticuhirly  in  the  conduct  of  a  popular  assembly.  If  the  under- 
secretary had  not  satisfactorily  answered  Endyniion,  wliich  no 
one  had  a  right  to  assume,  for  Waldersharc  was  a  brilli.iiit  man, 
the  minister  could  have  always  advanced  to  the  rescue  at  the 
fitting  time.  As  it  was,  he  made  a  personal  enemy  of  one  who 
naturally  might  liave  ri])cned  into  a  devoted  follower,  and  who 
from  his  social  influences,  as  well  as  from  his  political  talents, 
was  no  despicable  foe. 


CHAPTER  LXXX. 

NoTWiTHSTAXDixci  the  great  political,  and  consequently 
social,  changes  that  had  taken  place,  no  very  considerable  al- 
teration occurred  in  the  general  life  of  those  chief  pei'sonages 
in  whose  existence  Ave  have  attempted  to  interest  the  reader. 
However  vast  may  ajipear  to  be  the  world  in  which  we  move, 
we  all  of  us  live  in  a  limited  circle.  It  is  the  result  of  circum- 
stances ;  of  our  convenience  and  our  taste.  Lady  Beaumaris 
became  the  acknowledged  leader  of  Tory  society,  and  her  hus- 
band was  so  pleased  with  her  position,  and  so  i)roud  of  it,  that 
he  in  a  considerable  degree  sacrificed  his  own  pursuits  and 
pleasures  for  its  maintenance.  He  even  refused  the  mastership 
of  a  celebrated  hunt,  whicli  had  once  been  an  object  of  his 
liighcst  ambition,  that  he  might  be  early  and  always  in  London 
to  support  his  wife  in  her  receptions.  Imogene  herself  was 
universally  popular.  Iler  gentle  and  natural  manners,  blended 
with  a  due  degree  of  self-respect,  lier  charming  appearance, 
and  her  ready  but  unaffected  sympathy,  won  every  heart. 
Lady  Roehampton  was  her  frequent  guest.  ]Myra  continued 
her  duties  as  a  leader  of  society,  as  her  lord  was  anxious  that 
the  diplomatic  world  should  not  forget  him.  These  were  the 
two  principal  and  rival  houses.  The  efforts  of  Lady  Montfort 
were  more  fitful,  for  they  were  to  a  certain  degree  dependent 
on  the  moods  of  her  husband.  It  was  observed  that  Lady 
Beaumaris  never  omitted  attending  the  receptions  of  Lady  Roe- 
liampton,  and  the  tone  of  almost  reverential  affection  with 


I 


I 


) 


nil-:  rA'i.vr/rs'  r;  tests. 


371 


)ai'- 
ler- 

iio 
ail, 
the 
•lio 

\o 

its, 


wliicli  slic  over  approached  ]\[yra  was  touching  to  those  who 
were  in  tlic  secret,  but  they  were  few. 

No  great  change  occurred  in  the  position  of  Prince  Florcs- 
tan,  except  that  in  addition  to  the  sports  to  which  he  was  ap- 
parently devoted,  lie  gradually  began  to  interest  himself  in  the 
turf.  lie  had  bred  several  horses  of  repute,  nnd  one,  which  ho 
had  named  Lady  Roehanipton,  was  the  favorite  tor  a  celebrated 
race.  Ilis  highness  was  anxious  that  Myra  fhould  honor  him 
liy  being  his  guest.  This  had  never  occurred  iK'fore,  because 
Lord  Uuehamplon  felt  that  so  avowed  tin  intimacy  with  a  jier- 
sonagc  in  the  peculiar  jjosition  of  Prince  Florestan  was  hanlly 
becoming  a  secretary  of  state  for  foreign  aifairs  ;  but  that  he 
was  no  longer,  and  being  the  most  good-natured  man  I  hut  ever 
lived,  and  casil}  managed  in  little  things!,  he  could  nut  refuse 
Myra  when  she  consulted  him,  as  tiiey  call  it,  on  the  subject, 
and  it  was  settled  that  Lord  and  Lady  Iioehamploii  were  to 
dine  with  Prince  Florestan.  The  prince  was  mo>t  anxious  that 
My.  Sidney  "Wilton  should  take  this  occasion  of  consenting  to 
a  reconciliation  with  him,  and  Lady  Roehampton  exerted  her- 
self much  for  this  end.  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  was  in  love  with 
Lady  Pioehampton,  and  yet  on  this  point  he  was  inexorable. 
Lord  and  Lady  Beaumaris  went,  and  Lady  Montfort,  to  whom 
the  prince  had  addressed  a  private  note  of  his  own  that  quite 
captivated  her,  aiul  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Neuchatel  and  Adriaim. 
Walder'iharc,  Endymion,  and  Baron  Sergius,  comijletcd  the 
guests,  who  were  received  by  the  Duke  of  St.  Angelo  and  a 
coui^le  of  aides-de-camp.  When  the  prince  entered  all  rose, 
and  the  ladies  courtesied  very  low.  Lord  Koehami^ton  resumed 
his  seat  immediately,  saying  to  his  neighbor,  '•'!  rose  to  show 
my  respect  to  my  host  ;  I  sit  down  to  show  that  I  look  upon 
him  as  a  subject  like  myself.'' 

"A  subject  of  whom  ?"  inquired  Lady  Montfort. 

"There  i-  something  in  that,"  said  Lord  Kochampton, 
smiling. 

The  Duke  of  St.  Angelo  was  much  disturbcfl  by  the  con- 
duct of  Lord  Rochampton,  which  had  disappointed  his  calcu- 
lations, and  he  went  about  lamenting  that  Lord  lloehampton 
had  a  little  gout. 


EXDYMIOX, 


They  luid  assembled  in  ilie  library  and  dined  on  tlio  ,samo 
lloor.  The  prinee  was  seated  bet\\oon  Lady  ^Montfort,  uhoni 
lie  acconii)anied  to  dinner,  and  Lady  Roelianipton.  Adriana 
fell  to  Endymion'.s  lot.  Slic  looked  very  ])retty,  was  beauti- 
fully dressed,  and  for  her,  was  even  gay.  Her  com])anion  was 
in  good  spirits,  and  she  seemed  interested  and  amused.  'J'ho 
prince  never  spoke  much,  but  his  remarks  ahvays  told,  lie 
liked  murmuring  to  Avomen,  but  when  reijuisite,  he  eould 
throw  a  ily  over  the  table  with  adroitness  and  effect.  ^lorc 
than  once  during  the  dinner  he  whispered  to  f.ady  Koehamp- 
ton  :  ''This  is  too  kind — your  coming  here.  V>\\i  you  have 
alwaj's  been  my  best  friend."  The  dinner  woidd  have  been 
lively  and  successful  even  if  AValdershare  had  not  been  there, 
but  he  to-day  was  exuberant  and  irresistible.  His  chief  topic 
was  abuse  of  the  government  of  which  he  Avas  a  member,  and 
lie  lavished  all  his  powers  of  invective  and  ridicule  alike  on  the 
imbecility  of  their  policy  and  their  individual  absurdities.  All 
this  much  amused  Lady  ]\rontfort,  and  gave  Lord  Iioehampton 
an  opportunity  to  fool  the  TTnder-Sccreta''y  of  State  to  the  top 
of  his  bent. 

"If  you  do  not  take  care,"  said  Mr.  Xcuchatcl,  "they  will 
turn  you  out." 

"  I  wish  tliey  would,"  said  Waldersharc.  "  That  is  what  I 
am  longing  for.  I  should  go  then  all  over  the  country  and  ad- 
dress public  meetings.  It  would  be  the  greatest  thing  since 
Sachcverell." 

"Our  people  have  not  behaved  Avell  to  Mr.  Waldersharo," 
whispered  Imogene  to  Lord  Roehampton,  "  but  I  think  we  shall 
put  it  all  right." 

"DoA'ou  believe  it  ?"  inquired  LadyMontfort  of  Lord  Roc- 
hampton.  He  had  been  speaking  to  her  for  some  little  time  in 
a  hushed  tone,  and  rather  earnestly. 

"Indeed  I  do ;  I  can  not  well  see  what  there  is  to  doubt 
about  it.  We  know  the  father  very  well — an  excellent  man  ;  he 
■was  the  parish  priest  of  Lady  Roehampton  before  her  marriage, 
when  she  lived  in  the  country.  And  Ave  know  from  him  that 
more  than  a  year  ago  something  was  contemplated.  The  son 
gaA'o  up  his  liA'ing  then  ;  he  has  remained  at  Rome  CA'cr  since. 


coyr/:ns'ATioy  topics. 


373 


And  now  I  am  lt»l(l  he  returns  to  ii.s,  the  i'opc's  legate  and  au 
arelibisho})  in  2^((yl iJ^'^s ! " 

"It  id  most  in  teres  ling,"  .-aid  Lady  Montfort.  *'!  was  al- 
ways Ills  great  admirer." 

*•  I  Know  that  ;  you  and  Lady  lioeliamplon  made  me  go  and 
hear  liini.     The  father  will  he  terribly  distressed." 

'•  I  do  not  care  at  all  about  the  father,"  said  Lady  Mont- 
fon  ;  "  hut  tlic  son  had  such  a  line  voice  and  was  so  very  ffood- 
looking.     I  hope  I  shall  see  him." 

'J'hey  were  speaking  of  Tsigel  Penruddoek,  whose  move- 
ments had  been  a  matter  of  much  mystery  during  the  last  two 
years.  Kumors  of  his  having  been  received  into  the  lioman 
Church  had  been  often  rife  ;  sometimes  ilatly,  and  in  timo 
fain  11 V,  contradicted.  Now  the  facts  seemed  admitted,  and  it 
would  appear  that  he  was  about  to  return  to  England  not  only 
as  a  Roman  Catholic,  but  as  a  distinguished  priest  of  the 
Church,  and,  it  Avas  said,  even  the  representative  of  the  Pa- 
pacy. 

All  the  guests  rose  at  the  same  time — a  pleasant  habit — and 
went  up-stairs  to  the  brilliantly  liglitcd  saloons.  Lord  Roe- 
hampton  seated  himself  by  Baron  Sergius,  with  Avhom  he  was 
always  glad  to  converse.  "  We  seem  here  quiet  and  content  ?  " 
said  the  ex-minister,  inquiringly. 

"I  hope  so,  and  I  think  so,"  said  Sergius.  ''He  believes 
in  his  star,  and  will  leave  everything  to  its  influence.  There 
arc  to  be  no  more  adventures." 

*'  It  must  be  a  great  relief  to  Lord  Roehampton  to  have  got 
quit  of  office,"  said  Mrs.  Neuchatel  to  Lady  Roehampton.  "I 
always  pitied  him  so  much.  I  never  can  understand  why  peo- 
ple voluntarily  incur  such  labors  and  anxiety." 

**  You  should  join  us,"  said  Mr.  Neuchatel  to  Waldershare. 
*'  They  would  be  very  glad  to  see  you  at  Brookes'." 

"  Brookes'  may  ioin  the  October  Club  which  I  am  cfoins:  to 
revive,"  said  Waldcrshare. 

"1  never  heard  of  that  club,"  said  Mr.  Xeuchatel. 

*'Itwas  a  much  more  important  thing  than  the  Bill  of 
Riglits  or  the  Act  of  Settlement,"  said  Waldershare,  '^'all  the 


same 


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"1  v/ant  to  sec  his  mother's  portrait  in  the  farther  saloon, 
said  Lady  Montfort  to  Myra. 

''Let  us  go  together."  And  Lady  Roeliampton  rose  and 
they  went. 

It  was  a  portrait  of  Queen  Agrijipina  by  a  master  liand, 
and  admirably  illumined  by  reflected  light,  so  that  it  seemed 
to  live. 

*'  She  must  have  been  very  beautiful,"  said  Lady  Mont- 
fort. 

*'Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  was  devotedly  attached  to  her,  my 
lord  has  told  me,"  said  Lady  Roeliampton. 

'SSo  many  were  devotedly  attached  to  her,"  said  Lady 
Montfort. 

''Yes  ;  she  was  like  Mary  of  Scotland,  whom  some  men  are 
in  love  with  even  to  this  day.  Her  spell  was  irresistible. 
There  are  no  such  women  now." 

"Yes;  there  is  one,"  said  Lady  Montfort,  suddenly  turn- 
ing round  and  embracing  Lady  Roehamjiton  ;  "and  I  know 
she  hates  me,  because  she  thinks  I  i)revent  her  brother  from 
marrying." 

"Dear  Lady  Montfort,  how  can  you  use  such  strong  ex- 
pressions !  I  am  sure  there  can  be  only  one  feeling  of  Endym- 
ion's  friends  to  you,  and  that  is  gratitude  for  your  kindness  to 
him." 

"I  have  done  nothing  for  him ;  I  can  do  nothing  for  him. 
I  felt  that  when  we  were  trying  to  get  him  into  Parliament. 
If  he  could  marry,  and  be  independent,  and  powerful,  and 
rich,  it  would  be  better,  perliajis,  for  all  of  us." 

"I  wish  he  were  independent,  and  powerful,  and  rich," 
said  Myra,  musingly.  "That  would  be  a  fairy  tale.  At  pres- 
ent, he  must  bo  content  that  he  has  some  of  the  kindest  friends 
in  the  world." 

"He  interests  me  very  much  ;  no  one  so  much.  I  am  sin- 
cerely, even  deeply,  attached  to  him  ;  but  it  is  like  your  love, 
it  is  a  si&'er's  love.  There  is  only  one  person  I  really  love  in 
the  world,  and  alas !  he  does  not  love  me  ! "  And  her  voice 
was  tremulous. 

"Do  not  say  such  things,  dear  Lady  Montfort.     I  never 


» 


'',  my 
Lady 


u 


AX  EFFECT  OX  SOCIETY. 


37 


o 


can  believe  what  you  somctiino;^  intimate  on  that  subject.     Do 
you  know,  I  think  it  a  little  hallucination." 

Lady  Montfort  shook  her  head  with  a  truly  mournful  ex- 
pression, and  then  suddenly,  her  beautiful  face  wreathed  with 
smiles,  she  said  in  a  gay  voice,  '"We  Mill  not  think  of  such 
sorrows.  I  wish  them  to  be  entombed  in  my  heart,  but  the 
sjiecteis  will  rise  sometimes.  Now  about  your  brother.  I  do 
not  mean  to  say  that  it  would  not  be  a  great  loss  to  me  if  he 
married,  but  I  wish  him  to  marry  if  you  do.  For  myself,  I 
must  have  a  male  friend,  and  he  must  be  very  clevei-,  and 
thoroughly  understand  politics.  You  know  you  deprived  me 
of  Lord  Roehampton,"  she  continued,  smilingly,  "  who  was 
everything  I  could  desire  ;  and  the  Counl.  of  Ferroll  would 
have  suited  mo  excellently,  but  then  he  ran  a.way.  Now  En- 
dymion  could  not  easily  run  away,  and  he  is  so  agreeable  and 
80  intelligent,  that  at  last  I  thought  I  had  found  a  companion 
worth  helping— and  I  meant,  and  still  mean,  to  Avork  luird— 
until  ho  is  prime  minister." 

"I  have  my  dreams  too  about  that,"  said  Lady  Roehamp- 
ton, "  but  we  are  all  about  the  same  age,  and  can  wait  a  little." 

*'IIe  can  not  be  minister  too  soon,"  said  Lady  Montfort. 
"It  was  not  being  minister  soon  that  ruined  Charles  Fox." 

The  party  broke  up.  The  prince  made  a  sign  to  Walder- 
share,  which  meant  a  confidential  cigar,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
they  were  alone  together. 

''What  women  !"  exclaimed  the  prince.  ''Not  to  be  ri- 
valed in  this  city,  and  yet  'iuite  unlike  each  other." 

"And  which  do  you  admire  most,  sir  ?  "  said  Waldershare. 

The  prince  trimmed  his  cigar,  and  then  he  said,  "I  v»ill 
tell  you,  this  day  five  years." 


CHAPTER  LXXXL 

>  The  ecclesiastical  incident  mentioned  at  the  dinner  de- 
scribed in  our  last  chapter,  produced  a  considerable  effect  in 
what  is  called  society.     Nigel  Penruddock  had  obtained  great 


\ 


i 


o<0 


EXDYMION. 


cc'lchrity  as  !i  preacher,  Avhilo  lii.i  extreme  doctrines  and  prac- 
tices had  alike  amazed,  fascinated,  and  alarmed,  a  lar^c  portion 
of  (he  pnhlic.  For  some  time  ho  had  withdrawn  from  the 
poi)ular  gaze,  but  his  individuality  was  too  strong  to  be  easily 
forgotten,  even  if  occasional  paragraphs  as  to  his  views  and 
conduct,  pu))lished,  contradicted,  and  reiterated,  were  not  suf- 
ficient to  sustain,  and  even  stimulate,  curiosity.  That  lie  was 
about  to  return  to  his  muivc  land,  as  tlie  Legate  y.1  Jlis  Holi- 
ness, Avas  an  event  which  made  many  men  look  grave,  and  some 
female  hearts  lluttcr. 

The  memory  of  Lady  Iioehamiiton  could  not  csca})e  from 
the  past,  and  she  could  not  recall  it  and  all  the  scenes  at 
llurstley  without  emotion  ;  and  Lady  Montfort  remembered 
with  some  pride  and  excitement,  that  the  Legate  of  the  Po])c 
liad  once  been  one  of  her  heroes.  It  was  evident  that  he  had 
no  wish  to  avoid  his  old  accpiaintance?,  for  shortly  after  his 
arrival,  and  after  he  had  assembled  his  sutTragans,  and  instruct- 
ed the  clergy  of  his  district,  for  dioceses  did  not  then  exis;t, 
Archbishoi)  Penraddock,  for  so  the  Metropolitan  of  'iVre  sim- 
ply styled  himself,  called  upon  both  these  ladies. 

His  first  visit  was  to  Myra,  and  notwithstanding  her  disci- 
jilined  self-control,  her  intense  pride,  and  the  deep  and  daring 
fjpirit  which  always  secretly  sustained  her,  she  was  nervous  and 
agitated,  but  only  in  her  boudoir.  "When  she  entered  the  sa- 
loon to  welcome  him,  she  seemed  as  calm  as  if  she  were  going 
to  an  evening  assembly. 

Xigel  was  changed.  Instead  of  that  anxious  and  moody 
look  which  formerly  marred  the  refined  beauty  of  his  counte- 
nance, his  glance  was  calm  and  yit  radiant.  He  was  thinner, 
it  might  almost  be  said  emaciated,  Avhich  seemed  to  add  height 
to  his  tall  figure. 

Lady  Roehaiupton  need  not  have  been  nervous  about  the 
interview  and  the  pain  of  its  inevitable  associations.  Except 
one  allusion  at  the  end  of  his  visit,  when  his  grace  mentioned 
some  petty  grievance,  of  which  he  wished  to  relieve  his  clergy, 
and  said,  *'I  think  I  will  consult  your  brother ;  being  in  the 
oppositio7i,  he  will  be  less  embarrassed  tlian  some  of  my  friends 
in  the  government,  or  their  supjiorters,"  he  never  referred  to 


1 


% 


A  K  cnnisiTo  p  vExn  udd  o  ck. 


0  going 


377 


the  pa^'t.  All  he  spoke  of  Avas  tlie  iiiagnitude  of  his  ta.sk,  tlio 
immense  but  inspiring  hibors  which  awaited  him,  and  his  deep 
sense  of  his  responsibility.  Xotiiing  but  the  Divine  principle 
of  the  Church  could  sustain  him.  lie  was  at  one  time  hope- 
ful that  His  Holiness  might  have  tliought  the  time  ripe  for  the 
restoration  of  the  national  hierarchy,  but  it  was  decreed  other- 
wise. Had  it  been  accorded,  no  doubt  it  would  have  assisted 
him.  A  prelate  in  2)artihu!i  is,  in  a  certain  sense,  a  stranger, 
whatever  his  duties,  and  the  world  is  more  willing  when  it  is 
appealed  to  by  ono  who  has  "a  local  habitation  and  a  name  ; " 
he  is  identilled  with  the  people  among  Avhom  he  lives.  There 
was  much  to  do.  The  state  of  the  Catholic  i)oor  in  his  own 
district  was  heartrending.  lie  never  could  have  conceived 
such  misery,  and  that  too  under  the  shadow  of  the  Abbey. 
The  few  schools  which  existrd  were  wretched,  and  his  first 
attention  must  be  given  to  this  capital  deficiency.  lie  trusted 
much  to  female  aid.  lie  meant  to  invite  the  great  Catholic 
ladies  to  unite  with  him  in  a  common  h'.bor  of  love.  In  this 
great  center  oi'  civilization,  and  wealth,  and  i)ower,  there  was 
need  of  the  spirit  of  a  St.  Ursula. 

No  one  seemed  more  pleased  by  the  return  of  Archbishop 
Penruddock  than  Lord  ]\Iontf()rt.  He  ai)peared  to  be  so  deeply 
interested  in  his  grace's  mission,  sought  his  society  so  often, 
treated  him  with  such  profound  respect,  almost  ceremony, 
asked  so  many  questions  about  what  was  happening  at  lionie, 
and  Avhat  was  going  to  be  done  here — that  Nigel  might  ha\c 
been  pardoned  if  he  did  not  despair  of  ultimately  inducing 
Lord  Montfort  to  return  to  the  faith  of  his  illustrious  ances- 
tors. And  yet,  all  this  time.  Lord  Montfort  was  only  amusing 
himself  ;  a  new  character  was  to  him  a  new  toy,  and  when  he 
could  not  find  one,  he  would  dip  into  the  "Memoirs  of  St. 
Simon." 

Instead  of  avoiding  society,  as  was  his  wont  in  old  days, 
the  archbishop  sought  it.  And  there  was  nothing  exclusive  in 
his  social  habits ;  all  classes  and  all  creeds,  all  conditions  and 
orders  of  men,  were  alike  interesting  to  him  ;  they  were  part 
of  the  mighty  community,  with  all  whose  pursuits,  and  pas- 
sions, and  interests,  and  oocnpations,  he  seemed  to  symi)athize. 


378 


EXT)  v.uioy. 


but  respecting  -which  he  had  only  <uie  object — to  bring  them 
buck  once  more  to  that  imperial  fold  from  which  in  an  liour  of 
darkness  and  distraction  they  had  miserably  wandered.  The 
conversion  of  England  was  deei)ly  engraven  on  the  heart  of 
Penruddock  ;  it  was  his  constant  purpose,  and  his  daily  and 
nightly  i)rayer. 

So  the  archbishop  was  seen  everywhere,  even  at  fasbionnblo 
assemblies.  Tfc  was  a  frequent  guest  at  banquets  wliich  he 
never  tasted,  for  lie  was  a  smiling  ascetic,  and  though  ho 
gcenied  to  be  preaching  or  celebrating  high  mass  in  every  part 
of  the  metropolis,  organizing  schools,  establishing  convents, 
and  building  cathedrals,  he  could  lind  time  to  move  philan- 
thropic resolutions  at  middle-class  meetings,  attend  learned 
associations,  and  even  occasionally  send  a  paper  to  the  Royal 
Society. 

The  i)erson  who  fell  most  under  the  influence  of  the  arch- 
bishop was  Waldershare.  lie  was  fairly  cai)tivated  by  him. 
Nothing  would  satisfy  "NValdersliare  till  ho  had  brought  the 
archbishop  and  Prince  Florcstan  together.  "  You  are  a  Roman 
Catholic  prince,  sir,"  he  would  say.  *'It  is  absolute  folly  to 
forego  such  a  source  of  influence  and  power  as  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church.  Here  is  your  man  ;  a  man  made  for  the  oc- 
casion, a  man  Avho  may  be  pope.  Come  to  an  understanding 
with  him,  and  I  believe  you  will  regain  your  throne  in  a  year." 

''  But,  my  dear  Waldershare,  it  is  very  true  I  am  a  Roman 
Catholic,  but  I  am  also  the  head  of  the  Liberal  party  in  my 
country,  and  perhaps  also  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  and 
they  are  not  particularly  affected  to  archbishops  and  popes." 

'•Old-fashioned  twaddle  of  the  Liberal  party,"  exclaimed 
Waldershare.  ''There  is  more  true  democracy  in  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church  than  in  all  the  -:ccret  societies  of  Europe." 

*'  There  is  something  in  that,"  said  the  Prince,  musingly, 
"and  my  friends  arc  Roman  Catholics,  nominally  Roman 
Catholics.  If  I  were  quite  sure  your  man  and  the  priests 
generally  were  nominally  Roman  Catholics,  something  might 
be  done." 

"Aa;  for  that,"  stiid  Waldershare,  ''sensible  men  are  till  of 
the  same  religion." 


A  SECOND  PITT. 


379 


liour  of 
The 
curt  of 
ily  and 


"Ami  pray  wluit  is  tluit  ?"  inquired  the  Prince. 

*' Sensible  men  never  tell." 

Perhaps  there  was  no  family  which  suited  him  more,  and 
where  the  archbishop  became  more  intimate,  tlian  the  Neucha- 
tels.  lie  very  much  valued  a  visit  to  llainault,  and  the  mis- 
cellaneous and  influential  circles  he  met  there  —  merchant 
princes,  and  great  powers  of  Lombard  Street  and  the  Stock 
Exchange.  The  Governor  of  the  Bank  happened  to  bo  a  high 
churchman,  and  listened  to  the  archbishop  with  evident  relish. 
Mrs.  Ncuchatel  also  acknowledged  the  spell  of  his  society,  and 
he  quite  agreed  with  her  that  people  should  be  neither  so  poor 
nor  so  rich.  She  had  long  mused  over  plans  of  social  ameliora- 
tion, and  her  new  ally  was  to  teach  her  how  to  carry  them  into 
l)ractice.  As  for  Mr.  Keuchatel,  he  was  pleased  that  his  wife 
Avas  amused,  and  liked  the  archbishop  as  he  liked  all  clever 
men.  "You  know,"  he  would  say,  "lam  in  favor  of  all 
churches,  provided,  my  lord  archbishop,  they  do  not  do  any- 
thing very  foolish.  Eh  ?  So  I  shall  subscribe  to  your  schools 
with  great  pleasure.  AVe  can  not  have  too  many  schools,  even 
if  they  only  keep  young  people  from  doing  mischief." 


n 


CIIAPTEPv   LXXXII, 

The  prosperity  of  the  country  was  so  signal,  while  Mr. 
Vigo  Avas  unceasingly  dire^;ting  millions  of  our  accumulated  cajH- 
tal,  and  promises  of  still  more,  into  the  "new  channel,"  that 
it  seemed  beyond  belief  that  any  change  of  administration  could 
ever  occur,  at  least  in  the  experience  of  the  existing  generation. 
The  minister  to  whose  happy  destiny  it  had  fallen  to  gratify 
the  large  tippetites  and  reckless  consuming  i)owcrs  of  a  class 
now  fi-<t  known  in  our  social  hierarcl  y  as  "Navvies,"  was 
hailed  as  a  second  Pitt.  The  countenance  of  the  opposition 
was  habitually  dejected,  with  the  exception  of  those  members 
of  it  on  whom  Mr.  Vigo  graciously  conferred  shares,  and  Lady 
Montfort  taunted  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  with  inquiries,  Avhy  ho 
arid  his  friends  had  not  made  railroads,  instead  of  inventing 


-JSO 


EXT)  YM I  ox. 


nonsense  about  clicai)  l)rc;u].  Job  Thornbcrry  made  wonder- 
ful spceclies  in  favor  of  total  and  immediate  repeal  of  the  corn 
lav/s,  and  the  Liberal  party,  while  they  cheered  him,  i)rivately 
exi)rcssed  their  regrets  that  such  a  capital  Pi)eaker,  -who  might 
be  anything,  was  not  a  practical  man.  Low  prices,  abundant 
harvests,  and  a  tliriving  commerce  had  rendered  all  appeals, 
varied  even  by  the  persuasive  ingenuity  of  Thornbcrry,  a 
wearisome  iteration  ;  and,  thougli  the  League  had  transplanted 
itself  from  Manchester  to  the  metropolis,  and  hired  tlicatres 
for  their  rhetoric,  the  close  of  1845  found  them  nearly  reduced 
to  silence. 

Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine,  who  was  always  studying  the  spirit  of 
the  age,  announced  to  the  initiated  that  Mr.  Vigo  had  some- 
thing of  the  character  and  structure  of  Xapoleon,  and  that  he 
himself  began  to  believe,  that  an  insular  nation,  with  such  an 
enormous  appetite,  was  not  adapted  to  cosmopolitan  principles, 
which  were  naturally  of  a  character  more  spiritual  and  abstract. 
jMr.  Bertie  Tremaine  asked  Mr.  Vigo  to  dinner,  and  introduced 
Iiim  to  several  distinguished  youths  of  extreme  opinions,  who 
Avere  dining  off  gold  plate.  Mr.  Vigo  was  much  ilattered  by 
his  visit  ;  his  hoft  made  much  of  him  ;  and  he  heard  many 
things  on  the  i)rinciples  of  government,  and  even  of  society, 
in  the  largest  sense  of  the  expression,  which  astonished  and 
amused  him.  In  the  course  of  the  evening  he  varied  the  con- 
versation— one  which  became  the  classical  library  and  the  busts 
of  the  surrounding  statesmen — by  i)romising  to  most  of  the 
guests  allotments  of  shares  in  a  new  company^  not  yet  launched, 
but  whose  securities  were  already  at  a  high  premium. 

Endymion,  in  the  mean  time,  pursued  the  even  tenor  of  his 
way.  Guided  by  the  experience,  unrivaled  knowledge,  and 
consummate  tact  of  Lord  lioehampton,  he  habitually  made 
inquiries,  or  brought  forward  motions  Avhicli  Avere  evidently 
inconvenient  or  embarrassing  to  the  ministry  ;  and  the  very 
circumstance  that  he  was  always  replied  to  by  the  prime  minis- 
ter elevated  him  in  the  estimation  of  the  House  as  much  as  the 
pertinence  of  his  questions,  and  the  accurate  information  on 
Avhicli  lie  founded  his  motions.  He  had  not  taken  the  House 
with  a  rush  like  Job  Thornberrv,  but,  at  the  end  of  three  ses- 


rOTATOES. 


3S1 


womler- 
tlic  corn 
n'ivatcly 
o  iiiiglit 
Hindant 
nppcals, 

5planted 
tlicatrcs 
I'cdaced 

'pirit  of 
1  somc- 
tliat  ]io 
snch  an 
nciplos, 
bstract. 
odiiccd 

IS,   \S\\Q 

'red  by 
I  many 
society, 
:'d  and 
le  con- 
0  bnsts 
of  the 
icJied, 

of  Jiis 
,  and 
made 
[enily 
very 
iiinis- 
LS  tJie 
)n  on 
[ouse 
)  ses- 


sions, ho  Avus  a  personage  universally  looked  upon  as  one  who 
Avas  ''certain  to  have  ollice." 

There  was  another  new  member  who  had  also  made  wav, 
though  slowly,  and  that  was  ]Mr.  Trenehard  ;  he  had  distin- 
guished himself  on  a  dillicult  committee,  on  which  he  had 
guided  a  perplexed  minister,  Avho  was  chairman,  througli  many 
intricacies.  Mr.  Trenehard  watched  the  o])erations  of  Mr. 
Vi;io  with  a  calm,  cold  scrutinv,  and  ventured  one  dav  to  im- 
part  his  conviction  to  Ihidymion  that  there  were  breakers  ahead. 
'*Vigo  is  exhausting  the  lloating  capital  of  the  country,'' he 
J  said,  and  he  oITered  to  Endymion  to  give  him  all  tho  necessary 

details,  if  he  would  call  the  attention  of  the  llou.e  to  the  mat- 
ter. Endymion  declined  to  do  this  chielly  because  he  wished  to 
devote  himself  to  foreign  alfairs,  and  thought  the  House  would 
hardly  brook  his  interference  also  in  finance.  So  he  strongly 
advised  Trenehard  himself  to  undertake  tlrj  task.  Trenehard 
was  modest,  and  a  little  timid  about  speaking;  so  it  was  set- 
tled that  he  should  consult  the  leaders  on  the  question,  and 
particularly  the  gentleman  whom  it  was  supposed  would  be 
their  chancellor  of  the  exchequer,  if  ever  they  were  again  called 
upon  to  form  a  ministr}'.  This  right  honorable  individual  lis- 
tened to  Trenehard  with  the  impatience  which  became  a  man 
of  great  experience  addressed  by  a  novice,  and  concluded  the 
interview  by  saying  that  he  thought  "  there  Avas  nothing  in 
it ;"  at  the  same  time  he  would  turn  it  in  his  muid,  and  con- 
sult some  practical  men.  Accordingly  the  ex-  and  future  min- 
ister consulted  Mr.  Vigo,  who  assured  him  that  he  Avas  quite- 
right ;  that  "there  Avas  nothing  in  it,'' and  that  the  lloating 
capital  of  the  country  was  inexhaustible. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  physical  prosperity,  one  fine  day  in 
August,  Parliament  having  just  been  prorogued,  an  unknown 
dealer  in  potatoes  wrote  to  the  secretary  of  state,  and  informed 
liim  that  he  had  reason  to  think  that  a  murrain  had  fallen  over 
the  Avhole  of  the  potato  crops  in  England,  and  that,  if  it  ex- 
tended to  Ireland,  the  most  serious  consequences  must  ensue. 

This  mysterious  but  uniA'ersal  sickness  of  a  single  root 
changed  the  history  of  the  Avorld. 

"There  is  no  gambling  like  politics,"  said  Lord  Rochamp- 


.",82 


EXDVMWX 


1 

1 

\, 

11 

1         i    ' 

ill; 

Kii        '    1 

N  h ' 

1 

■ 

I ' 

■  J 

ton,  as  lie  gliinccd  at  the  **Time?,"  at  Princcdown  ;  ''four 
ca1)inets  in  one  week  ;  tlie  government  must  be  more  sick  tlian 
the  potatoes." 

''Berengaria  always  says,"  said  Lord  ^[ontfort,  "  that  you 
should  sec  Princcdown  in  summer.  I,  on  tlie  contrary,  main- 
tain it  is  essentially  ji  winter  residence,  for,  if  there  ever  be  a 
f^unbeam  in  England,  Princcdown  always  cutclies  it.  Now  to- 
da)',  one  might  fancy  one's  self  at  Cannes." 

liOrd  Montfort  was  quite  right,  but  even  the  most  willful 
and  selfish  of  men  was  generally  obliged  to  pass  his  Christmas 
at  his  northern  castle.  Montforts  had  passed  their  Christmas 
in  that  grim  aiul  mighty  dweHing-i)lace  for  centuries.  Even 
he  "was  not  strong  enough  to  contend  against  such  tradition. 
Besides,  every  one  loves  power,  even  if  they  do  not  know  what 
to  do  with  it.  There  are  such  things  as  memberships  for  coun- 
ties, which,  if  public  feeling  be  not  outraged,  are  hereditary, 
and  adjacent  boroughs,  Avhich,  Avith  a  little  management  and 
much  expense,  become  reasonable  and  loytd.  If  the  flag  were 
rarely  to  wave  on  the  proud  keep  of  Montfort,  all  these  satis- 
factory circumstances  would  be  greatly  disturbed  and  baffled  ; 
and  if  the  ancient  ensign  did  not  promise  welcome  and  hospi- 
tality at  Christmas,  some  of  the  principal  uses  even  of  Earls  of 
Montfort  might  bo  questioned. 

There  was  another  reason,  besides  the  distance  and  the 
clime,  why  Lord  Montfort  disliked  the  glorious  pile  which 
every  Englishman  envied  him  for  possessing.  The  mighty 
domain  of  Montfort  was  an  estate  in  strict  settlement.  Its 
lord  could  do  nothing  but  enjoy  its  convenience  and  its  l)eauty, 
and  expend  its  revenues.  Nothing  could  bo  sold  or  bought, 
not  the  slightest  alteration — r.ccording  to  Lord  Montfort — bo 
made,  without  applying  to  trustees  for  their  sanction.  Lord 
Montfort  spoke  of  this  pitiable  state  of  affairs  as  if  he  were 
describing  the  serfdom  of  the  middle  ages.  "  If  I  were  to  pull 
this  bell-rope,  and  it  came  down,"  ho  would  say,  *'  I  should 
have  to  apply  to  the  trustees  before  it  could  bo  arranged." 

Such  a  humiliating  state  of  affairs  had  induced  his  lord- 
ship, on  the  very  first  occasion,  to  expend  half  a  million  of 
accumulations,  which  were  at  his  own  disposal,  in  the  purchase 


LIFE  AT  miyCKDOWX. 


3S3 


''four 
■k  tluiii 

iifc  you 
main- 

M"   bo  il 

on-  (o- 


of  Princcclown,  wliicli  certainly  was  ii  very  difTorcnt  residence 
from  Montfort  Castle,  alike  in  its  clime  and  character. 

Princedown  was  situate  in  a  southern  county,  hardly  on  a 
southern  coast,  for  it  was  ten  miles  from  the  sea,  thou<^h  en- 
chanting views  of  the  Channel  were  frequent  and  ex(|uisite.  It 
was  a  palace  built  in  old  days  upon  the  downs,  l)ut  .sheltered 
and  screened  from  every  hostile  wind.  The  full  warmth  of 
the  south  fell  upon  the  vast  but  fantastic  pile  of  the  renaissance 
style,  said  to  have  been  built  by  that  gifted  but  mysterious 
individual,  John  of  Padua.  The  gardens  were  wonderful,  ter- 
race upon  terrace,  and  on  each  terrace  a  tall  fountain.  But 
the  most  jjcculiar  feature  was  the  park,  which  was  undulating 
and  extensive,  but  its  timber  entirely  ilex  :  single  trees  of  an 
age  and  size  not  common  in  that  tree,  and  groui)s  and  clumps 
of  ilex,  but  always  ilex.  Be3'ond  the  park,  and  extending  far 
into  the  horizon,  was  Princcdown  forest,  the  dominion  of  the 
red  deer. 

The  Eoehamptons  and  Endymion  were  the  only  permanent 
visitors  at  Princcdown  at  this  moment,  but  every  day  brought 
guests  who  staid  eight-and-forty  hours,  and  then  llitted. 
Lady  Montfort,  like  the  manager  of  a  theatre,  took  caic  that 
there  should  be  a  succession  of  novelties  to  please  or  to  sur- 
prise the  wayward  audience  for  whom  she  had  io  cater.  On 
the  whole,  Lord  Montfort  was,  for  him,  in  an  extremely  good 
humor ;  never  very  ill ;  Princcdown  was  the  only  place  where 
he  never  was  very  ill ;  he  was  a  little  excited,  too,  by  the  state 
of  politics,  though  he  did  not  exactly  know  why  ;  "  though,  I 
suppose,"  he  would  say  to  Lord  Eoehampton,  "if  you  do  come 
in  again,  there  will  be  no  more  nonsense  about  O'Connell  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing.  If  you  are  prudent  on  that  head,  and 
carry  a  moderate  fixed  duty,  not  too  high,  say  ten  shillings — 
that  would  satisfy  everybody — I  do  not  sec  why  the  thing 
might  not  go  on  as  long  as  you  liked." 

Mr.  "Waldershare  came  down,  exuberant  with  endless  com- 
binations of  jicrsons  and  parties.  He  foresaw  in  all  these 
changes  that  most  providential  consummation,  the  end  of  the 
middle  class. 

Mr.  Waldershare  had  become  (piite  a  favorite  with  Lord 


I 
,1 


t 


:  I 


f 


;i6A 


EXD  YMfOX. 


^rontfort,  who  (Icliglilcd  to  talk  with  him  al)oiit  tlio  Duko  of 
^[(Kk'iui,  and  iin])ihi'  liis  ori^^'inal  views  of  En;,dis]i  history. 
*' Only,''  Lord  Monti'ort  would  observe,  ''the  Montforts  have 
.so  niiieh  Ciiureh  j)roi)erty,  and  I  fancy  the  Duke  of  Modena 
would  want  us  to  disgorge." 

St.  Barbe  liad  been  invited,  and  made  his  ai)i)caranee. 
There  had  been  a  degree  of  estrangement  between  him  and  his 
l)atron.  St.  Barbe  was  very  jealous  ;  he  was  indeed  jealous  of 
everybody  and  everything,  and  of  late  there  was  a  certain  Doc- 
tor Comeh  y,  an  Oxford  ihm  of  the  new  school,  who  had  been 
introduced  to  Lord  ^lontfort,  and  was  initiating  him  in  all  the 
mysteries  of  Xeology.  This  celebrated  divine,  who,  in  a  sweet 
silky  voice  (juoled  Socrates  instead  of  St.  Paul,  aiul  was  op- 
l)0sed  to  all  symbols  and  formulas  as  essentially  un[)hilosoi)hi- 
cal,  had  become  the  hero  of  '•  the  little  dinners"  at  Montfort 
House,  where  St.  Barbe  had  been  so  long  wont  to  shine,  and 
who  ill  conseciuence  himself  had  become  every  day  more  se- 
verely orthodox. 

'•  rerha])s  Ave  may  meet  to-day,"  said  Endymlon  one  morn- 
ing to  St.  Barbe  in  Pall  Mall  as  they  were  separating.  '•Tlierc 
is  a  little  dinner  at  Montfort  House." 

''Confound  your  little  dinners !"  exclaimed  the  indignant 
St.  Barbe  ;  "  I  ho})e  never  lo  go  to  another  little  dinner,  aiul 
especially  at  ^NFontfort  House.  1  do  not  want  to  be  asked  to  din- 
ner to  tumble  and  play  tricks  to  amuse  my  host.  I  want  to  bo 
amused  myself.  One  can  not  be  silent  at  these  little  dinners, 
and  the  consequence  is,  you  say  all  the  good  things  which  are  in 
your  next  nundjcr,  and  when  it  comes  out  people  say  they  have 
heard  them  before.  Xo,  sir,  if  Lord  Montfort,  or  any  other 
lord,  Avishes  mo  to  dine  Avith.  him,  let  him  ask  mo  to  a  banquet 
of  his  own  order,  and  AA'here  I  may  hold  my  tongue  like  the 
rest  of  his  aristocratic  guests. " 

Mr.  Trenchard  had  come  down  and  brought  the  news  that 
the  ministry  had  resigned,  and  that  the  Queen  had  sent  for  the 
leader  of  the  opposition,  aa'Iio  was  in  Scotland. 

"I  suppose  Avo  shall  liaA'e  to  go  to  toAvn,"  said  Lady  Roe- 
hampton  to  her  brother,  in  a  room,  busy  and  full.  *'  It  is  so 
difficult  to  be  alone  here,"  she  continued  in  a  Avhisper ;  "let 


I 


I 


MVIiA  AX  J)  EXfjyjIIOX. 


i]S5 


Huko  of 
history. 
rts  luivo 
Mock'iui 

ciirancc. 

and  his 
'ulous  oL' 
liii  Doc- 
ad  been 
11  all  the 

a  sweet 
was  op- 
lo.-:oi)hi- 
lonlfort 
iiic,  and 
norc  sc- 

c  inorn- 
*'Thero 

dignant 
ler,  and 
to  di  li- 
nt to  bo 
linneiv, 
h  are  in 
cy  have 
y  other 
janciuet 
like  the 

ws  that 
for  the 

iy  Roc- 
It  is  so 
r,  "let 


us  get  into  the  gardens."  And  they  escaped.  And  then,  when 
they  were  out  of  hearing  and  of  sight  of  any  one  she  said, 
*'This  is  a  most  critical  time  in  yonr  life,  Endymion  ;  it  makes 
me  very  anxious.  I  look  upon  it  as  certain  that  you  will  bo 
in  olllce,  and  in  all  probability  under  my  lord.  Jle  has  said 
nothing  to  mo  about  it,  but  I  feel  <piitc  assured  it  will  happen. 
It  will  be  a  great  event.  Poor  i)ai)a  began  l^y  being  an  umler- 
sccretary  of  state  !  "she  continued  in  a  moody  tone,  half  speak- 
ing to  herself,  ''and  all  seemed  so  fair  then,  but  he  had  no 
root.  "What  I  want,  Endymion,  is  tliat  you  should  have  a 
root.  There  is  too  much  chance  and  favor  in  your  lot.  They 
will  fail  you  some  day,  some  day  too  when  I  may  not  be  by 
you.  Even  this  great  opening,  Avhicli  is  at  hand,  Avould  never 
have  been  at  your  command  but  for  a  mysterious  gift  on  which 
vou  never  could  have  counted." 

"It  is  very  true,  Myra,  but  what  then  ?" 

"AVliy  then,  I  think  wc  should  guard  against  such  contin- 
gencies. You  know  what  is  in  my  mind  ;  "we  have  spoken  of  it 
before,  and  not  once  only.  I  want  you  to  marry,  and  you  know 
whom." 

"Marriage  is  a  serious  affair  !"  said  Endymion  with  a  dis- 
tressed look. 

"  The  most  serious.  It  is  the  princii)al  event  for  good  or 
for  evil  in  all  lives.  Had  I  not  married,  and  married  as  I  did, 
wc  should  not  have  been  here — and  where,  I  dare  not  think." 

"Yes  ;  but  you  made  a  happy  marriage  ;  one  of  the  hai)pi- 
cst  that  was  ever  known,  I  think." 

"  And  I  wish  you,  Endymion,  to  make  the  same.  I  did  not 
marry  for  love,  though  love  came,  and  I  brought  haiipines",  to 
one  who  made  me  happy.  But  had  it  been  otherwise,  if  thero 
had  been  no  sympathy,  or  prospect  of  sympathy,  I  still  should 
liave  married,  for  it  was  the  only  chance  of  saving  you." 

"  Dearest  sister  !    Everything  I  have,  I  owe  to  you." 

"It  is  not  much,"  said  Myra,  "but  I  wish  to  make  it 
much.  Power,  in  every  form,  and  in  excess,  is  at  your  dis- 
posal if  you  be  wise.  There  is  a  woman,  I  think  with  every 
charm,  who  loves  you  ;  her  fortune  may  have  no  limit ;  slv^  i^ 
a  member  of  one  of  the  most  powerful  families  in  England — :t 
11 


I 


I 


i 

■i 
I 

1;! 
:1a 


386 


ENDYMIOX. 


noble  fiimily  I  may  say,  for  my  lord  told  me  last  night  that  Mr. 
Neuchatel  would  bo  instantly  raised  to  the  peerage,  and  you 
licsitate  !  By  all  the  misery  of  the  past — which  never  can  be 
forgotten — for  heaven's  sake,  be  wise  ;  do  not  palter  with  such 
a  chance." 

''  If  all  be  as  you  say,  Myra,  and  I  have  no  reason  but  your 
word  to  believe  it  is  so — if,  for  example,  of  which  I  never  saAV 
any  evidence,  Mr.  Neuchatel  would  approve,  or  even  tolerate, 
this  alliance — I  have  too  deej)  and  sincere  a  regard  for  his 
daughter,  founded  on  much  kindness  to  both  of  us,  to  mock 
her  with  the  offer  of  a  heart  which  she  has  not  gained." 

*'You  say  you  have  a  deep  and  sincere  regard  for  Adri- 
ana,"  said  his  sister.  "Why,  what  better  basis  for  enduring  \ 
happiness  can  there  be  ?  You  are  not  a  man  to  marry  for 
romantic  sentiment,  and  piss  your  life  in  writing  sonnets  to 
your  wife  till  you  find  her  charms  and  your  inspiration  alike 
exhausted ;  you  are  already  wedded  to  the  State,  you  have 
been  nurtured  in  the  thoughts  of  great  affairs  from  your  very 
cliildhood,  and  even  in  the  darkest  hour  of  our  liorrible  ad- 
versity. You  arc  a  man  born  for  power  and  high  condition, 
Avhosc  name  in  time  ought  to  rank  with  those  of  the  gi'cat 
statesmen  of  the  continent,  the  true  lords  of  Europe.  Power, 
and  power  alone,  should  be  your  absorbing  object,  and  all  the 
accidents  and  incidents  of  life  should  only  be  considered  with 
reference  to  that  main  result." 

"  Well,  I  am  only  five-and-twenty  after  all.  There  is  time 
yet  to  consider  this." 

*'  Great  men  should  think  of  Opportunity,  and  not  of  Time. 
Time  is  the  excuse  of  feeble  and  puzzled  spirits.  They  make 
time  the  sleeping  partner  of  their  lives  to  accomplish  what 
ought  to  be  achieved  by  their  own  will.  In  this  case,  there 
certainly  is  no  time  like  the  present.  The  opportunity  is  un- 
rivaled. All  your  friends  would,  without  an  exception,  be  de- 
lighted if  you  now  were  wise." 

**I  hardly  think  my  friends  have  given  it  a  thought,"  said 
Endymion,  a  little  flushed. 

"  There  is  nothing  that  would  please  Lady  Montfort  more." 

He  turned  pale.     "  How  do  you  know  that  ?"  he  inquired. 


I    i 


DISAPPOIXTMEXr. 


3sr 


'*  Slie  told  me  so,  and  offered  to  help  me  in  bringing  about 
the  result." 

"Very  kind  of  lier  !  Well,  dearest  Myra,  you  and  Lord 
Roehampton  have  much  to  think  of  at  tliis  anxious  moment. 
Let  this  matter  drop.  We  have  discussed  it  before,  and  \vc 
have  discussed  it  enough.  It  is  more  than  pain  for  me  to  differ 
from  you  on  any  point,  but  I  can  not  offer  to  Adriana  a  licart 
which  belongs  to  another." 


CHAPTER  LXXXIII. 

All  the  high  expectations  of  December  at  Princedown  were 
doomed  to  disappointment ;  they  were  a  further  illustration  of 
Lord  Roehampton's  saying,  that  there  was  no  gambling  like 
politics.  Tlie  leader  of  the  opposition  came  up  to  town,  but 
he  found  nothing  but  difficulties,  and  a  few  days  before  Christ- 
mas he  had  resigned  the  proffered  trust.  The  protectionist 
ministry  were  to  remain  in  office,  and  to  repeal  the  corn  laws. 
The  individual  who  was  most  balked  by  this  unexpected  re- 
sult was  perhaps  Lord  Roehampton.  He  was  a  man  who  really 
cared  for  nothing  but  office  and  affairs,  and  being  advanced  in 
life,  he  naturally  regretted  a  lost  opportunity.  But  he  never 
showed  his  annoyance.  Always  playful,  and  even  taking 
refuge  in  a  bantering  spirit,  the  world  seemed  to  go  light  with 
him  when  everything  was  dark  and  everybody  despondent. 

The  discontent  or  indignation  which  the  contemplated 
revolution  in  policy  was  calculated  to  excite  in  the  Conserva- 
tive party  generally  were  to  a  certain  degree  neutralized  for 
the  iiJor.:ent  by  mysterious  and  confidential  communications, 
circulated  by  Mr.  Tadpole  and  the  managers  of  the  party,  that 
the  change  was  to  be  accompanied  by  "immense  compensa- 
tions." As  Parliament  was  to  meet  as  soon  as  convenient  after 
Christmas,  and  the  statement  of  the  regenerated  ministry  Avas 
then  to  be  made  immediately,  every  one  held  his  hand,  as  they 
all  felt  the  blow  must  be  more  efficient  when  the  scheme  of  the 
government  was  known. 


i  '■  t 


1 


38S 


Eyn  YMiox. 


Tlic  Mont  forts  avci'o  obliged  to  go  to  tliclr  castle,  a  visit  the 
ead  necessity  of  which  the  formation  of  a  new  government,  at 
one  time,  they  had  hojied  might  have  prevented.  The  Iloc- 
hamptons  passed  their  Christmas  with  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  at 
Guydene,  where  Endymion  also  and  many  of  tlic  opposition 
were  guests.  Waldersharc  took  refuge  with  his  friends  the 
Beaumaris,  full  of  revenge  and  unceasing  combinations.  lie 
took  down  St.  Barbc  with  him,  whose  services  in  the  session 
might  be  useful.  There  had  been  a  little  misunderstanding 
between  these  two  eminent  personages  during  the  late  season. 
St.  Barbe  was  not  satisfied  with  his  position  in  the  new  journal 
which  Waldershare  had  established,  lie  affected  to  have  been 
ill-treated  and  deceived,  and  this  with  a  mysterious  shake  of  the 
head  -which  seemed  to  intimate  state  secrets  that  might  here- 
after be  revealed.  The  fact  is,  St.  Barbe's  political  articles 
were  so  absurd  that  it  was  impossible  to  print  them  ;  but  as 
liis  name  stood  high  as  a  clever  writer  on  matters  with  which 
he  was  acquainted,  they  permitted  him,  particularly  as  they 
were  bound  to  pay  him  a  high  salary,  to  contribute  essays  on 
the  sociid  habits  and  opinions  of  the  day,  which  he  treated  in  a 
happy  and  taking  manner.  St.  Barbe  himself  had  such  a 
quick  perception  of  pcculi  .rities,  so  fine  a  power  of  observa- 
tion, and  so  keen  a  sense  of  the  absurd,  that  when  he  revealed 
in  confidence  the  causes  of  his  discontent,  it  was  almost  im- 
possible to  believe  that  he  was  entirely  serious.  It  seems  that 
lie  expected  this  connection  with  the  journal  in  question  to 
liave  been,  to  use  his  OAvn  phrase,  *'a  closet  affair,"  and  that 
lie  was  habitually  to  have  been  introduced  by  the  back-stairs  of 
the  palace  to  the  presence  of  lloyalty  to  receive  encouragement 
and  inspiration.  "I  do  not  complain  of  the  pay,"  he  added, 
**  though  I  could  get  more  by  writing  for  Shuffle  and  Screw, 
but  I  expected  i  decoration.  However,  I  shall  probably  stand 
for  next  Parli;  nent  on  the  principles  of  the  Mountain,  eo  per- 
haps it  is  just  as  well." 

Parliament  soon  met,  and  that  session  began  which  will 
long  be  memorable.  The  ** immense  compensations"  were  no- 
where. Waldershare,  who  had  only  waited  for  this,  resigned 
his  ofltice  as  Under-Secretary  of  State.     This  was  a  bad  example 


A  XEW  GOVEUXMEXT. 


3SD 


and  a  bloAV,  but  nothing  conipand  to  tlie  resignation  of  liis 
cTcat  ofVicc  in  the  Ilousehokl  bv  tlie  Earl  of  Beaumaris.  This 
involved  unhappily  the  withdrawal  of  Lady  Beaumaris,  under 
whose  bright  inspiring  roof  the  Tory  party  had  long  assembled, 
sanguine  and  bold.  Other  considerable  peers  followed  the  })rec- 
cdent  of  Lord  Beaumaris,  and  withdrew  their  support  from 
the  ministr3\  AVaklersharc  moved  the  amendment  to  the  first 
reading  of  the  obnoxious  bill  ;  but  although  defeated  by  a 
considerable  majority,  the  majority  was  mainly  formed  of 
members  of  the  opposition.  Among  these  was  Mr.  I'enMrs, 
who  it  v.'as  observed  never  opened  liis  lips  during  the  \A\o\y 
session. 

This  was  not  the  case  with  Mr.  Bertie  Tremainc  and  the 
school  of  Pythagoras.  The  opportunity  long  waited  for  had  at^ 
length  arrived.  There  was  a  great  parliamentary  conneetion 
deserted  by  their  leaders.  This  distinguished  rank  tmd  file  re- 
quired odicers.  The  cabinet  of  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine  v.a.s 
ready,  and  at  their  service.  ^Ir.  I'ertie  Tremaine  seconded  the 
amendment  of  Waldershare,  and  took  the  occasion  of  exi)()und- 
ing  the  new  philosoi)hy,  which  seemed  to  com1)ine  the  princi- 
ples of  Bcntham  with  the  practice  of  Lord  Liveri)ool.  '•! 
offered  to  you  this,"  he  said  rqn-oaclif  ully  to  Endymion  ;  '-you 
mi^ht  have  been  mv  secretarv  of  state.  Mr  Tremaii/j  Bertio 
will  now  take  it.  lie  would  rather  have  had  an  embas-y,  l)ut 
he  must  make  the  sacrifice." 

The  debates  during  the  session  were  much  carried  on  bv 
the  Pvthao'oreans,  Avho  never  ceased  chattering.  Thev  had 
men  ready  for  every  branch  of  tlic  subject,  and  the  debate  was 
often  closed  by  their  chief  in  mystical  sentences,  which  tlicy 
cheered  like  awe-struck  zealots. 

The  great  bill  was  carried,  but  the  dark  hour  of  retribution 
at  len2;tli  arrived.  The  miniritrv.  thouo:h  saniiuine  to  the  last 
of  success,  and  not  without  cause,  were  com])letely  and  igno- 
miniously  defeated.  The  new  government,  long  prepared,  was 
at  once  formed.  Lord  Iioeham])ton  auain  became  secretarv  of 
state,  and  ho  appointed  Endymion  to  the  post  under  him.  "  I 
shall  not  press  you  unfairly,"  said  ]Mr.  Bertio  Tremaine  to  En- 
dymion, with  encouraging  condescension.     *'  I  wish  my  men 


i 


!     i 


[    .  ' 


390 


EXDYMIOX. 


for  a  season  to  comprehend  what  is  a  responsible  opposition.  I 
am  sorry  Ilortensius  is  your  solicitor-general,  for  I  had  in- 
tended him  always  fur  my  chancellor." 


|i 


CHAPTER  LXXXiy. 

Very  shortly  after  the  prorogation  of  Parliament,  an 
incident  occurred  Avhich  materially  affected  the  position  of  En- 
dymion.  Lord  Rochampton  had  a  serious  illness.  Having  a 
line  constitution,  he  apparently  completely  rallied  from  the 
attack,  and  little  was  known  of  it  by  the  public.  The  world, 
also,  jit  that  moment,  was  as  usual  much  dispersed  and  dis- 
tracted ;  dispersed  in  many  climes,  and  distracted  by  the 
fatigue  and  hardships  they  annually  endure,  and  which  they 
call  relaxation.  Even  the  colleagues  of  the  great  statesman 
were  scattered,  and  before  they  had  realized  that  he  had  been 
seriously  ill,  they  read  of  him  in  the  fulfillment  of  official  du- 
ties. But  there  was  no  mistake  as  to  his  state  under  his  own 
roof.  Lord  Roehampton  had,  throughout  the  later  period  of 
his  life,  been  in  the  habit  of  working  at  night.  It  was  only 
at  night  that  he  could  command  that  abstraction  necessary  for 
the  consideration  of  great  affairs.  He  was  also  a  real  Avorker, 
He  wrote  his  oAvn  dispatches,  whenever  they  referred  to  mat- 
ters of  moment.  He  left  to  the  permanent  staff  of  his  office 
little  but  the  fulfillment  of  duties  which,  though  heavy  and 
multifarious,  were  duties  of  routine.  The  composition  of  these 
dispatches  was  a  source  to  Lord  Roehampton  of  much  gratifi- 
cation and  excitement.  They  were  of  European  fame,  and 
their  terse  argument,  their  clear  determination,  and  often  their 
happy  irony,  were  acknowledged  in  all  the  cabinets,  and  duly 
ai)prelicnded. 

The  physicians  impressed  upon  Lady  Roehampton  that  this 
night-work  must  absolutely  cease.  A  neglect  of  their  advice 
must  lead  to  serious  consequences  ;  following  it,  there  was  no 
reason  why  her  husband  should  not  live  for  years,  and  continue 
to  serve  the  State.     Lord  Roehampton  must  leave  the  House 


TREN CHARD'S  SPEECH. 


391 


of  Commons  ;  lie  must  altogether  change  the  order  of  liis  life  ; 
he  must  seek  more  amusement  in  society,  and  yet  keep  early 
hours ;  and  then  he  would  find  himself  fresh  an'^'  vigorous  in 
the  morning,  and  his  work  would  rather  benefit  t  an  distress 
him.     It  was  all  an  affair  of  habit. 

Lady  Roehampton  threw  all  her  energies  into  this  matter. 
She  entertained  for  her  lord  a  reverential  affection,  and  his  life 
to  her  seemed  a  precious  deposit,  of  which  she  was  the  trustee. 
She  succeeded  where  the  physicians  would  probably  have  failed. 
Toward  the  end  of  the  year  Lord  Roehampton  was  called  up  to 
the  House  of  Lords  for  oro  of  his  baronies,  and  Endymion  was 
informed  that  when  Parliament  met,  he  would  have  to  rc])rt- 
sent  the  Foreign  Office  in  the  House  of  Commons. 

"Waldershare  heartily  congratulated  him.  "You  have  got 
what  I  most  wished  to  have  in  the  world  ;  but  I  will  not  envy 
you,  for  envy  is  a  vile  passion.  You  have  the  good  fortune  to 
serve  a  genial  chief.  I  had  to  deal  with  a  Harley — cold,  sus- 
picious, ambiguous,  jiretending  to  be  i)rofound,  and  always  in  a 
state  of  perplexity. " 
I  It  was  not  a  very  agreeable  session.    The  potato  famine  did 

something  more  than  repeal  the  corn  laws.  It  proved  that 
there  Avas  no  floating  capital  left  in  the  country  ;  and  when  the 
Barings  and  Rothschilds  combined,  almost  as  much  from  pub- 
lic spirit  as  from  private  speculation,  to  raise  a  loan  of  a  few 
millions  for  the  minister,  they  absolutely  found  the  public 
purse  was  exhausted,  and  had  to  supply  the  greater  portion  of 
the  amount  from  their  own  resources.  In  one  of  the  many 
financial  debates  that  consequently  occurred,  Trcnchard  estab- 
lished himself  by  a  clear  and  comprehensive  view  of  the  posi- 
tion of  affairs,  and  by  modestly  reminding  the  house,  that  a 
year  ago  he  had  predicted  the  present  condition  of  things,  and 
indicated  its  inevitable  cause. 

This  was  the  great  speech  on  a  great  night,  and  Mr.  Bertie 
Tremaine  walked  home  with  Trenchard.  It  was  observed  that 
Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine  always  walked  home  with  the  member 
who  had  made  the  speech  of  the  evening. 

"Your  friends  did  not  behave  well  to  you,"  he  said,  in  a 
hollow  voice  to  Trenchard.     "  They  ought  to  have  made  you 


!    ,'■ 


I 


EXDYMIOy. 


Secretary  of  the  Treasury.  Think  of  this.  It  is  an  important 
post,  and  mtiy  lead  to  anything  ;  and,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
it  "wouhl  give  me  real  pleasure  to  see  it." 

But  besides  the  disqu'etudo  of  domestic  affairs,  famine  and 
failures  competing  in  horrible  catastrophe  and  the  13ank  Act 
suspended,  as  the  year  advanced  matters  on  the  continent  be- 
came not  less  dark  and  troubled.  Italy  "vvas  mysteriously  agi- 
tated ;  the  pope  announced  himself  a  reformer ;  there  were 
disturbances  in  Milan,  Ancona,  and  Ferrara ;  the  Austrians 
threatened  the  occupation  of  several  states,  and  Sardinia  of- 
fered to  defend  Ilis  Holiness  from  the  Austrians.  In  addition 
to  all  this,  there  "were  reform  banquets  in  France,  a  civil  war 
in  Switzerland,  and  the  King  of  Prussia  thought  it  prudent  to 
present  his  subjects  with  a  constitution. 

The  Count  of  Ferroll  about  this  time  made  a  visit  to  Eng- 
land. He  was  always  a  welcome  guest  there,  and  had  received 
the  greatest  distinction  Avhicli  England  could  bcstoAV  upon  a 
foreigner  ;  he  had  been  elected  an  honorary  member  of  White's, 
"You  may  have  troubles  here,"  he  said  to  Lady  Montfort, 
*'  but  they  will  pass  ;  you  will  have  mealy  potatoes  again  and 
plenty  of  bank-notes,  but  avc  shall  not  get  off  so  cheaply.  Ev- 
erything is  quite  rotten  throughout  the  Continent.  T'hi^  year 
is  traufpiillity  to  Avhat  the  next  Avill  be.  There  is  not  a  throne 
in  Europe  worth  a  year's  purchase.  jMy  Avorthy  master  wants 
me  to  return  home  and  be  minister  :  I  am  to  fashion  for  him  a 
new  constitution.  I  will  never  have  anything  to  do  with  new 
constitutions  ;  their  inventors  are  always  the  first  victims.  In- 
stead of  making  a  constitution,  he  should  make  a  country,  and 
convert  his  heterogeneous  domains  into  a  patriotic  dominion." 

*'But  how  is  that  to  be  done  ?" 

**  There  is  only  one  way  ;  by  blood  and  iron." 

"  ]\ry  dear  count,  you  shock  me  !  " 

"I  shall  have  to  shock  you  a  great  deal  niore  before  tlie  in- 
evitable is  brought  about." 

'*  Well,  I  am  glad  that  there  is  something,"  said  Lady 
Montfort,  "■' which  is  inevitable.  I  hope  it  will  come  soon.  I 
am  sure  this  country  is  ruined.  What  with  cheap  bread  at 
1  and  these  railroads,  wc  seem  quite  finished.     I 


pri 


AFFAIRS  nECOMIXG  S  FRIO  US. 


3f>;j 


J> 


tlionglit  one  operation  w;i??  to  conntcract  tlio  other  ;  Itiit  they 
api)car  botli  to  turn  out  equally  fatal.*' 

Endyniioii  had  now  one  of  those  rare  opportunities  whieh, 
if  men  he  equal  to  them,  greatly  affect  their  future  career.  As 
the  session  advanced,  debates  on  foreign  affairs  became  frequent 
and  deeply  interesting.  So  far  as  the  ministry  was  concerned, 
the  burden  of  these  fell  on  the  Under-Secretary  of  State.  He 
was  never  Avanting.  The  House  f.  It  that  he  had  not  only  the 
adequate  knowledge,  but  that  it  vras  knowdcdge  iierfectly  di- 
gested ;  that  his  remarks  and  conduct  were  those  of  ti  nian 
who  had  given  constant  thought  to  his  duties,  and  was  ma^er 
of  his  subject.  His  oratorical  gifts  al-o  began  to  be  recognized. 
The  jiower  and  melody  of  his  voice  had  been  before  remarked, 
and  that  is  a  gift  ■which  much  contributes  to  success  in  a  pop- 
ular assembly.  He  was  ready  witV.out  being  too  fluent.  There 
were  light  and  shade  in  his  delivery.  He  repressed  his  p(.twer 
of  sarcasm  ;,  but  if  unjustly  and  inaccurately  attacked,  he  could 
be  keen.  Over  his  temper  he  had  a  complete  control ;  if,  in- 
deed, his  entire  insensibility  to  violent  language  on  the  part  of 
an  o})ponent  was  not  organic.  All  acknowledged  his  courtesy, 
and  both  sides  sympathi;<cd  witli  a  young  man  who  proved 
himself  equal  to  no  ordinary  dilVieulties.  In  a  word,  Endym- 
ion  Avas  popular,  and  that  pojailarity  was  not  diminished  by 
the  fact  of  his  being  the  brother  of  Lady  Iioehampton,  Avho 
exercised  great  influence  in  society,  and  avIio  was  much  be- 
loved. 

As  the  year  advanced  external  affairs  became  daily  more 
serious,  and  the  country  congratulated  itself  that  its  interests 
were  intrusted  to  a  minister  of  the  experience  and  capacity  of 
Lord  Roehamjjton.  That  statesman  seemed  never  better  than 
when  the  gale  ran  high.  Affairs  in  France  began  to  assunio  the 
complexion  that  the  Count  of  Ferroll  had  prophetically  an- 
nounced. If  a  crash  occurred  in  that  quarter.  Lord  Uoehamp- 
ton  felt  that  all  Europe  might  be  in  a  blaze.  Affairs  were  nev- 
er more  serious  than  at  the  turn  of  the  year.  Lord  Pioehampfon 
told  his  wife  tluit  their  holidays  must  be  spent  in  St.  James' 
Square,  for  he  could  not  leave  London  ;  but  he  wished  her  to 
go  to  Gaydene,  wlierc  they  had  been  invited  by  Mr,  Sidney 


i.iv;  :1 


4:|j 


1 


304 


EXDYMIOK 


• 


I 


i 


Wilton  to  pass  their  Christmas  as  usual.  Nothing,  however, 
would  induce  her  to  (juit  his  side.  He  seemed  quite  well,  but 
the  pressure  of  affairs  was  extreme  ;  and  sometimes,  against  all 
her  remonstrances,  he  was  again  working  at  night.  Such  re- 
monstrances on  other  .^uhjects  would  probably  have  been  suc- 
cessful, for  her  influence  over  him  was  extreme.  But  to  a 
minister  responsible  for  the  interests  of  a  great  country  they 
are  vain,  futile,  impossible.  One  might  as  well  remonstrate 
with  an  officer  on  the  field  of  battle  on  the  danger  he  was  in- 
curring. She  said  to  him  one  night  in  his  library,  where  she 
paid  him  a  little  visit  before  she  retired,  "  jNIy  heart,  I  know 
it  is  no  use  my  saying  anything,  and  yet — remember  your 
promise.     This  night-work  makes  mo  very  unhappy." 

**I  remember  my  promise,  and  I  will  try  not  to  work  at 
night  again  in  a  hurry,  1)ut  I  must  finish  tliis  dispatch.  If  I 
did  not,  I  could  not  slcei),  and  you  know  sleep  is  what  I  re- 
quire." 

'•  Good  night,  then." 

He  looked  up  Avith  his  winning  smile,  aid  held  out  his 
lips.     ''Kiss  me,"  he  said,  "I  never  felt  better." 

Lady  Roehampton  after  a  time  slumbered  ;  how  long  she 
knew  not,  but  when  she  woke  her  lord  was  not  at  her  side.  She 
struck  a  light  and  looked  at  her  watch.  It  was  past  three 
o'clock ;  she  jumped  out  of  bed,  and,  merely  in  her  slippers 
and  her  7'obe  de  chamhrc,  descended  to  the  library.  It  was  a 
large,  long  room,  and  Lord  Roehampton  worked  at  the  ex- 
treme end  of  it.  The  candles  were  nearly  burned  out.  As  she 
approached  him,  she  perceived  that  he  was  leaning  back  in  his 
chair.  When  she  reached  him,  she  observed  he  was  awake,  but 
he  did  not  seem  to  recognize  her.  A  dreadful  feeling  came 
over  her.  She  took  his  hand.  It  was  quite  cold.  Her  intel- 
lect for  an  instant  seemed  to  desert  her.  She  lookt'd  round 
her  with  an  air  void  almost  of  intelligence,  and  then  rushing 
to  the  bell  she  continued  ringing  it  till  some  of  the  household 
appeared.  A  medical  man  was  near  at  hand,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  arrived,  but  it  was  a  bootless  visit.  All  was  over,  and 
all  had  been  over,  he  said,  "for  some  time." 


RA  WCnESTER. 


395 


CHAPTER  LXXXV. 


your 


"  Well,  have  you  made  up  your  govornmcnt  ?  "  asked  Lady 
Montfort  of  the  prime  minister  as  lie  entered  her  boudoir.  He 
shook  his  liead. 

"  Have  you  seen  her  ?  "  lie  inquired. 

•'•'No,  not  yet;  I  suppose  she  will  see  me  as  soon  as  any 
one.*' 

*'I  am  told  she  is  utterly  ovcrAvhelmcd." 

'*  She  was  devoted  to  him  ;  it  was  the  happiest  union  I  ever 
knew ;  but  Lady  Roehampton  is  not  the  woman  to  be  utterly 
overwhelmed.     She  has  too  imperial  a  spirit  for  that." 

"It  is  a  great  misfortune,"  said  the  prime  minister.  *•  We 
have  not  been  lucky  since  we  took  the  reins." 

''Well,  there  is  no  use  in  deploring.  There  is  nobody  else 
to  take  the  reins,  so  you  may  defy  misfortunes.  The  question 
now  is,  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?" 

"Well,  there  seems  to  me  only  one  thing  to  do.  We  must 
put  Rawchester  there." 

"Rawchester  !" exclaimed  Lady  Montfort,  "what  'Niminy- 
Piminy '  ?" 

"Well,  he  is  conciliatory,"  said  the  premier,  "and  if  you 
are  not  very  clever,  you  should  be  conciliatory." 

"He  never  knows  his  own  mind  for  a  Avcek  together." 

"We  Avill  take  care  ox  his  mind,"  said  the  prime  minister, 
"but  he  has  traveled  a  good  deal,  and  knows  the  public  men." 

"Yes,"  said  Lady  Montfort,  "and  the  public  men,  I  fear, 
know  him." 

"Then  he  can  make  a  good  House  of  Lords'  speech,  and 
we  have  a  first-rate  man  in  the  Commons  ;  so  it  will  do." 

"I  do  not  think  your  first-rate  man  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons w^ill  remain,"  said  Lady  Montfort  dryly. 

"  You  do  not  mean  that  ?  "  said  the  prime  minister,  evi- 
dently alarmed. 

"  His  health  is  delicate,"  said  Lady  Montfort ;  "  had  it  not 
been  for  his  devotion  to  Lord  Roehampton,  I  know  he  thought 
of  traveling  for  a  couple  of  years." 


i 


i{ 


OjlJ 


KXDYMIOy. 


'*FciTars'  lioalth  (li'licale  ?''  .'■aid  tlic  premier  ;  '•  I  tlion;:;1it 
lie  was  ilio  picture  of  licalth  and  youtliful  vigor.  Health  is 
one  of  the  elements  to  be  considered  in  calculating  the  career 
of  a  public  man,  and  I  have  tdways  predicted  an  eminent  career 
for  Ferrari,  because,  in  addition  to  bis  remarkable  talents,  bo 
had  apparently  such  a  fine  constitution." 

"  Xo  health  could  stand  working  under  Lord  "Rawchcster." 

"Well,  but  what  am  I  to  do  ?  I  can  not  make  Mr.  Ferrars 
secretary  of  state.'' 

''Why  not?" 

The  in'ime  minister  looked  considerably  perplexed.  Sucli 
a  promotion  could  not  possibly  have  occurred  to  him.  Though 
a  man  of  many  gifts,  and  a  statesman,  be  had  been  educated 
in  high  Whig  routine,  and  the  proposition  of  Lady  Montfort 
was  like  recommending  him  to  make  a  curate  a  bishop. 

"Well,"  he  said,  '"Ferrars  is  a  very  clever  fellow.  lie  is 
our  rising  young  man,  and  there  is  no  doubt  that,  if  his  health 
is  not  so  delicate  as  you  fear,  bo  will  mount  high  ;  but  though 
our  rising  young  man,  he  is  a  young  man,  much  too  young  to 
be  a  secretary  of  slc.te.  lie  wants  age,  larger  acquaintance  with 
ailairs,  greater  position,  and  more  root  in  the  country." 

"  What  was  ^Ir.  Canning's  ago,  who  held  Mr.  Ferrars'  oflice, 
when  be  was  made  secretary  of  state  ?  and  wliat  root  in  the 
country  bad  be  ?" 

When  the  prime  minister  got  back  to  Downing  Street  bo 
sent  immediately  for  bis  bead  Whip.  "  Look  after  Ferrars," 
he  said  ;  "  they  are  trying  to  induce  him  to  resign  office.  If 
he  does  our  embarrassments  Avill  be  extreme.  Lord  Rawchcster 
■will  be  secretary  of  state ;  send  a  paragraph  at  once  to  the 
pai)er3  announcing  it.  But  look  after  Ferrars,  and  inyinedi- 
ately,  and  report  to  me." 

Lord  Roeliampton  bad  a  large  entailed  estate,  thougli  bis 
affairs  were  always  in  a  state  of  confusion.  That  seems  almost 
the  inevitable  result  of  being  absorbed  in  the  great  business  of 
governing  mankind.  If  there  be  exceptions  among  statesmen 
of  the  highest  class,  they  will  generally  be  found  among  those 
who  bavo  been  chiefly  in  opposition,  and  so  liavo  bad  leisure 
and  freedom  of  mind  sufficient  to  manaofc  their  estates.     Lord 


Tin-:  HILL  street  maxsiox. 


;30T 


Tiocluinipton  luul,  liowcvcr,  extensive  jjowcrs  of  charging  liis 
estate  in  lieu  of  dower,  and  lie  had  emphjyed  tlicm  to  their  nt- 
niost  extent ;  so  his  wi(h)\v  was  well  })r()vided  for.  The  execu- 
tor.-: were  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  and  Kndyniion. 

After  a  short  period,  Lady  IJix'luunpton  saw  Adriana,  and 
not  very  long  after,  Lady  ^lontfort.  They  both  of  them,  from 
that  time,  were  lier  frc'[uent,  if  nut  constant  companions,  but 
she  saw  no  one  else.  Onee  only,  shice  the  terrible  event,  was 
she  seen  by  the  world,  and  that  was  when  a  tall  figure,  shrouded 
in  tlie  darkest  attire,  attended  as  chief  mourner  at  the  burial 
of  her  lord  in  Westminster  Abl)cy.  Slic  remained  })ermanently 
in  London,  not  only  because  she  had  no  country  house,  but  be- 
cause she  wished  to  be  with  her  brother.  As  time  advanced 
she  frcfp".  tly  saw  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton,  who,  being  chief  execu- 
tor of  the  will,  and  charged  Avith  all  her  affairs,  had  necessarily 
much  on  which  to  consult  her.  One  of  the  greatest  difhculties 
was  to  provide  her  with  a  suitable  residence,  for,  of  course,  she 
was  not  to  remain  in  the  family  mansion  in  St.  James'  Square. 
Tluit  difficulty  was  ultimately  overcome  in  a  manner  highly 
interesting  to  her  feelings.  Her  father's  mansion  in  1 1  ill  Street, 
where  she  had  passed  her  prosperous  and  gorgeous  childhood, 
was  in  the  market,  and  she  was  most  desirous  to  occupy  it. 
'*It  will  seem  like  a  great  step  toward  the  restoration,*' she 
said  to  Endymion.  '"  My  plans  are,  that  you  should  give  up 
the  Albany,  and  that  Ave  should  l\vc  together.  I  should  like 
to  live  together  in  Hill  Street ;  I  should  like  to  see  our  nursery 
once  more.  The  past  then  will  bo  a  dream,  or  at  least  all  the 
past  that  is  disagreeable.  My  fortune  is  yours  ;  as  Ave  are  tAvins, 
it  is  likely  that  I  may  IIa'c  as  long  as  you  do.  But  I  Avish  you 
to  be  the  master  of  the  house,  and  in  time  receiA'e  your  friends 
in  a  manner  becoming  your  position.  I  ^o  not  think  that  I 
shall  CA'er  much  care  to  go  out  again,  but  I  may  help  you  at 
home,  and  then  you  can  invite  Avomen  ;  a  mere  bachelor's 
liouse  is  always  dull." 

There  Avas  one  difficulty  still  in  this  arrangement.  The 
mansion  in  Hill  Street  was  not  to  be  let,  it  Avas  for  sale,  and 
the  price  naturally  for  such  a  mansion  in  such  a  situation  Avas 
considerable  ;  quite  beyond  the  means  of  Lady  Roehampton, 


398 


EKJjYMIOy. 


who  had  a  very  ami)le  income,  but  no  capital.  This  difiiculty, 
however,  vanished  in  a  moment.  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  purchased 
the  house  ;  he  wanted  an  investment,  and  this  was  an  excellent 
one  ;  so  Lady  Roehampton  became  his  tenant. 

The  change  was  great  in  the  life  of  Myra,  and  she  felt  it. 
She  loved  her  lord,  and  had  cut  off  her  bcauliiul  hair,  which 
reached  almost  to  her  feet,  and  had  tied  it  round  his  neck  in 
his  coflin.  But  Myra,  notwithstanding  she  was  a  woman,  and 
a  woman  of  transcendent  beauty,  had  never  had  a  romance  of 
the  heart.  Until  she  married,  her  pride  and  her  love  for  her 
brother,  which  was  part  of  her  i)ride,  had  absorbed  her  being. 
When  she  married,  and  particularly  as  time  advanced,  she  felt 
all  the  misery  of  her  existence  had  been  removed,  and  nothing 
could  exceed  the  tenderness  and  affectionate  gratitude,  and 
truly  unceasing  devotion,  which  she  extended  to  the  gifted  be- 
ing to  Avhom  she  owed  this  deliverance.  But  it  was  not  in  the 
nature  of  things  that  she  could  experience  those  feelings  which 
still  echo  in  the  heights  of  Meilleraie,  and  compared  with 
which  all  the  glittering  accidents  of  fortune  sink  into  insig- 
nificance. 

The  year  rolled  on,  an  agitated  year  of  general  revolution. 
Endymion  himself  was  rarely  in  society,  for  all  the  time  which 
the  House  of  Commons  spared  to  him  he  wished  chiefly  to 
dedicate  to  his  sister.  His  brougham  was  always  ready  to  take 
him  up  to  Hill  Street  for  one  of  those  somewhat  hurried,  but 
amusing  little  dinners,  which  break  the  monotony  of  parlia- 
mentary life.  And  sometimes  he  brought  a  companion,  gen- 
erally Mr.  Wilton,  and  sometimes  they  met  Lady  Montfort  or 
Adriana,  now  ennobled  as  the  daughter  of  Lord  ILiinault. 
There  was  much  to  talk  about,  even  if  they  did  not  talk  about 
themselves  and  their  friends,  fur  every  day  brought  great 
events,  fresh  insurrections,  new  constitutions,  changes  of  dy- 
nasties, assassinations  of  ministers,  states  of  siege,  evanescent 
empires,  and  premature  republics. 

On  one  occasion,  having  previously  prepared  his  sister,  who 
seemed  not  uninterested  by  the  suggestion,  Endymion  brought 
Thornberry  to  dine  in  Hill  Street.  There  was  no  one  else 
present  except  Adriana.     Job  was  a  great  admirer  of  Lady 


JOIi   nUIiCUASES  HUIiSTLHY. 


391> 


being. 


insig- 


lioi'lianiptun,  but  wa.-<  ji  little  iiwc-stnick  by  lier.  He  roinem- 
bcrcd  lier  in  licr  cliildbood,  a  beautiful  being  wlio  never  smiled. 
She  received  him  very  graciously,  and  after  dinner,  inviting 
him  to  sit  by  her  on  the  sofa,  referred  with  delicacy  to  old 
times. 

*' Your  ladyshii),"  said  Thornberry,  *'  would  not  know  that 
I  live  myself  now  at  llurstley." 

''Indeed  I"  said  Myra,  unaffectedly  surprised. 

'•Well,  it  hapi)cned  in  this  way;  my  father  now  is  iu 
years,  and  can  no  longer  visit  us  as  lie  occasionally  did  in  Lan- 
cashire ;  so  wishing  to  see  us  all,  at  least  once  more,  we  agreeil 
to  pay  him  a  visit.  I  do  not  know  how  it  exactly  came  about, 
but  my  wife  took  a  violent  fancy  to  the  place.  They  all  re- 
ceived us  very  kindly.  The  good  rector  and  his  dear,  kind 
wife  made  it  very  pleasant,  and  the  archbishop  was  there — 
whom  wo  used  to  call  Mr.  Nigel — only  think  !  That  is  a  Avon- 
derful  affair.  lie  is  not  at  all  high  and  mighty,  but  talked 
with  us,  and  walked  with  us,  just  the  same  as  in  old  days.  He 
took  a  great  fancy  to  my  boy,  John  nam})dcn,  and,  after  all, 
my  boy  is  to  go  to  Oxford,  and  not  to  Owens  College,  as  I  had 
first  intended.*' 

'•  That  is  a  great  change." 

"Well,  I  wanted  him  to  go  to  Owens  College,  I  confess, 
but  I  did  not  care  so  much  about  Mill  Hill.  That  was  his 
mother's  fancy  ;  she  was  very  strong  about  that.  It  is  a  Non- 
conformist school,  but  I  am  not  a  Nonconformist.  I  do  not 
much  admire  dogmas,  but  I  am  a  Churcliman  as  my  fathers 
were.  However,  John  Hampden  is  not  to  go  to  Mill  Hill.  He 
has  gone  to  a  sort  of  college  near  Oxford,  which  the  archbishop 
recommended  to  us  ;  the  principal,  and  all  the  tutors  arc  cler- 
gymen— of  course  of  our  Church.  My  wife  is  (piite  delighted 
with  it  all." 

"Well,  that  is  a  good  thing." 

"And  so,"  continued  Thornberry,  "she  got  it  into  her 
head  she  should  like  to  live  at  llurstley,  and  I  took  the 
place.  I  am  afraid  I  have  been  foolish  enough  to  lay  out  a 
great  deal  of  money  there — for  a  place  not  my  own.  Your 
ladyship  would  not  know  the  old  hall.     I  have,  what  they  call. 


It 


Hi.  J 


U 


ii 


t  '■ 


HI 

< 

hi 

r 

4= 

1 

400 


EXDYMION. 


restored  i(,  aiul  upon  my  Avard,  except  the  new  luill  of  tlie 
Cloth- "Workers'  Company,  wlicrc  I  dined  the  other  day,  I  do 
not  know  anything  of  tlie  kind  tliat  is  prettier."' 

'*  The  dear  ohl  liall  I"  mnrmnred  Lady  Iiociuimpton. 

In  time,  tliouci'h  no  one  mentioned  it,  evervlwdv  thought 
that  if  an  alli;vnce  nltimately  took  place  between  Lady  Ivoc- 
liampton  and  ^Iv.  Sidney  Wilton,  it  would  bo  the  most  natnral 
thing  in  the  world,  and  CTcrybody  would  approve  it.  True, 
he  was  her  father's  friend,  and  much  her  senior,  but  then  ho 
was  still  good-looking,  very  clever,  very  mnch  considered  and 
lord  of  a  largo  estate,  and  at  any  rate  he  was  a  younger  man 
than  her  late  hnsband. 

When  these  thoughts  became  more  rife  in  society,  and  be- 
gai;  to  take  the  form  of  speech,  the  year  was  getting  old,  and 
this  reminds  us  of  a  little  incident  which  took  place  many 
months  previously,  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  and  which  we 
ought  to  record. 

Shortly  after  the  death  of  Lord  Iioehampton,  Prince  Flo- 
restan  called  one  morning  in  St.  James'  Square.  He  said  he 
would  not  ask  Lady  Roehampton  to  see  him,  but  he  was  obliged 
suddenly  to  leave  England,  and  he  did  not  like  to  depart  with- 
out personally  inrpiiring  after  her.  He  left  a  letter,  and  a  little 
packet.     And  the  letter  ran  thus  : 

"I  am  obliged,  madam,  to  leave  England  suddenly,  and  it 
is  probable  that  wc  shall  never  meet  again.  I  should  be  happy 
if  I  had  your  prayers  !  This  little  Jewel  enclosed  belonged  to 
my  mother,  the  Queen  Agrippina.  She  told  me  that  1  was 
never  to  part  with  it  except  to  somebody  I  loved  as  much  as 
herself.  There  is  only  one  person  in  the  world  to  whom  I  owe 
affection.  It  is  to  her  who  from  the  first  was  always  kind  to 
me,  and  who,  through  dreary  years  of  danger  and  anxiety,  has 
been  the  charm  and  consolation  of  the  life  of 

*'Eloiiestax." 


PRIXCE  FLORESTAN'S  IXVASIOX. 


401 


CILVPTEIl   LXXXVr. 


Ox  tlic  evening'  of  tlio  tiny  on  -which  Prince  Florcsfan  per- 
sonally left  the  letter  with  Lady  liochampton,  he  ([uitted  Lon- 
don with  the  Duke  of  St.  Angclo  and  his  aide;(-de-camp,  and, 
embarking  in  his  steam  yacht,  which  was  lying  at  Southamp- 
ton, quitted  England.  I'hey  pursued  a  prosperous  course  for 
about  a  week,  when  they  passed  through  the  Straits  of  (li])ral- 
tar,  and,  not  long  afterward,  cast  anchor  in  a  small  and  solitary 
bay.  There  the  prince  and  his  companions,  and  half  a  dozen 
servants,  well  armed  and  in  military  attire,  left  the  yacht,  and 
proceeded  on  foot  into  the  country  for  a  short  distance,  when 
they  arrived  at  a  large  farm-house.  Here,  it  was  evident,  they 
WTrc  expected.  Men  came  forward  with  many  horses,  and 
mounted,  and  accompanied  the  party  which  had  arrived.  Tlioy 
advanced  about  ten  miles,  and  halted  as  they  were  approach- 
ing a  small  but  fortified  town. 

The  prince  sent  the  Duke  of  St.  Angclo  forward  to  an- 
nounce his  arrival  to  the  governor,  and  to  re([uire  him  to  sur- 
render.    The  governor,  however,  refused,  and  ordered  the  gar- 
rison to  fire  on  the  invaders.     This  they  declined  to  do  ;  the 
governor,  with  many  ejaculations,  and  stani})ing  with  rage, 
broke  his  sword,  and  the  prince  entered  the  toAvn.     lie  was 
warmly  received,  and  the  troops,  amounting  to  about  twelve 
hundred  men,  placed,  themselves  at  his  disposal.     The  prince 
remained  at  this  town  only  a  couple  of  hours,  and  at  the  head 
of  his  forces  advanced  into  the  country.    At  a  range  of  hills  ho 
halted,  sent  out  reconnoitering  parties,  and  pitched  his  camp. 
In  the  morning,  the  ^Marquis  of  Yallombrosa,  with  a  largo 
party  of  gentlemen  well  mounted,  arrived,  and  were  warmly 
greeted.     The  prince  learned  from  them  that  the  news  of  his 
invasion  had  reached  the  governor  of  the  ])rovince,  Avho  was  at 
one  01  the  most  considerable  cities  of  tl;e  kingdom,  with  a 
population  exceeding  two  hundred  thousand,  and  wilh  a  mili- 
tary division  for  its  garrison.     ''Tliey  will  not  wait  for  our 
arrival,"  said  Yallombrosa,  "but,  trusting  to  their  nundjers, 
will  come  out  and  attack  us." 


'1^ 
-  0,  ■ 


■: 


4 


\i     : 


i|i 


;'-l 


V'A 


m 


402 


ENDYMIOX. 


The  news  of  the  scouts  being  that  the  mountain  passes  were 
quite  unoccupied  by  tlie  enemy,  the  prince  determined  instant- 
ly to  continue  liis  advance,  and  take  up  a  strong  position  on 
the  otlier  side  of  the  range,  and  await  his  fate.  The  passage 
was  well  effected,  and  on  tlie  fourth  day  of  tlic  invasion  the 
advanced  guard  of  the  enemy  were  in  sight.  The  prince  com- 
manded that  no  one  sliould  attend  liim,  but  alone  and  tying  a 
white  handkerchief  round  his  sword,  he  galloped  up  to  the 
hostile  lines,  and  said  in  a  clear,  loud  voice,  "  My  men,  this  is 
the  SAVord  of  my  father  ! " 

**Florestan  for  ever,"  Avas  tlie  only  and  universal  reply. 
The  cheers  of  the  advanced  guard  reached  and  were  reechoed 
by  the  main  body.  The  commander-in-chief,  bareheaded, 
came  up  to  give  in  his  allegiance  and  receive  his  majesty's 
orders.  They  were  for  immediate  progress,  and  at  the  head  of 
the  army  wliich  had  been  sent  out  to  destroy  liim,  Florestan 
in  due  course  entered  the  enthusiastic  city  which  recognized 
him  as  its  sovereign.  The  city  Avas  illuminated,  and  he  Avent 
to  the  opera  in  the  evening.  The  singing  Avas  not  confined  to 
the  theatre.  During  the  Avholc  night  the  city  itself  Avas  one 
song  of  joy  and  triumph,  and  that  night  no  one  slept. 

After  this  there  Avas  no  trouble  and  no  delay.  It  Avas  a 
triumphal  march.  Every  toAVii  opened  its  gates,  and  devoted 
municipalities  proffered  golden  keys.  EA'cry  village  sent  forth 
its  troop  of  beautiful  maidens,  scattering  roses,  and  singing 
the  national  anthem  Avliich  had  been  composed  by  Queen 
Agrippina.  On  the  tenth  day  of  the  iuA'asion  King  Flores- 
tan, utterly  unopposed,  entered  the  magnificent  capital  of  his 
realm,  and  slept  in  the  purple  bed  Avhich  had  Avitnessed  his 
jirincely  birth. 

Among  all  the  strange  revolutior.i  of  this  year,  this  adven- 
ture of  Florestan  v/as  not  the  least  interesting  to  Lhe  English 
people.  Although  society  had  not  smiled  on  him,  he  had 
ahvays  been  rather  a  faA'orite  Avith  the  bulk  of  the  population. 
Ilis  fine  countenance,  his  capital  horsemanship,  his  graceful 
boAv  that  ahvays  Avon  a  heart,  his  youth,  and  love  of  sport,  his 
English  education,  and  the  belief  that  he  was  sincere  in  his 
regard  for  the  country  where  he  had  been  so  long  a  guest,  Avere 


LOOKIXO  FOR  A   QUEEN: 


403 


elements  of  popularity  that,  particularly  now  he  was  success- 
ful, were  unmistakable.  And  certainly  Lady  lloeliampton,  in 
her  solitude,  did  not  disregard  his  career  or  conduct.  They 
Avere  naturally  often  in  her  thoughts,  for  there  was  scarcely  a 
day  in  which  his  name  did  not  figure  in  the  newspapers,  and 
always  in  connection  with  matters  of  general  interest  and  con- 
cern. The  government  he  established  was  liberal,  but  it  was 
discreet,  and  though  conciliatory,  firm.  ''If  he  declares  for 
the  English  alliance,"  said  Waldershare,  •'ho  is  safe  ;  "  and  lie 
did  declare  for  the  English  alliance,  and  the  English  peo[ile 
were  very  pleased  by  his  declaration,  which  in  their  apprehen- 
sion meant  national  progress,  the  amelioration  of  society,  and 
increased  exports. 

The  main  jjoint,  however,  which  interested  his  subjects  was 
his  marriage.  That  was  both  a  difficult  and  a  delicate  matter 
to  decide.  The  great  continental  dynasties  looked  with  some 
jealousy  and  suspicion  on  him,  and  the  small  reigning  houses, 
who  were  all  allied  with  the  great  continental  dynasties,  thought 
it  prudent  to  copy  their  example.  All  these  reigning  families, 
whether  large  or  small,  were  themselves  in  a  per})lcxcd  and 
alarmed  position  at  this  period,  very  disturbed  about  their 
present,  and  very  doubtful  about  their  future.  At  last  it  Avas 
understood  that  a  Princess  of  Saxe-Babel,  though  allied  with 
royal  and  imperial  houses,  might  share  the  diadem  of  a  success- 
ful adventurer,  and  then  in  time,  and  when  it  had  been  suffi- 
ciently reiterated,  paragraphs  appeared  unequivocally  contra- 
dicting the  statement,  followed  with  agreeable  assurances  that 
it  was  unlikely  that  a  Princess  of  Saxe-Babel,  allied  Avitli  royal 
and  imperial  houses,  should  unite  herself  to  a  parvenu  monarch, 
however  powerful.  Then  in  turn  these  articles  Avere  stigma- 
tized as  libels,  and  entirely  unauthorized,  and  no  less  a  person- 
age than  a  princess  of  the  house  of  Saxe-Genesis  Avas  talked  of 
as  the  future  queen  ;  but  on  referring  to  the  ''Almanach  de 
Gotha,"  it  Avas  discoA'ered,  that  family  had  been  extinct  since 
the  first  French  RcA'olution.  So  it  seemed  at  last  that  nothing 
AA'as  certain,  except  that  his  subjects  Avere  very  anxious  that 
King  Florestan  should  jiresent  them  Avith  a  queen. 


i 


404  j:xdymiox. 


1^ 
Iff 

Is'?' 


m 


II 


I " 


CHAPTER  LXXXVir. 

As  time  Hc'V*'  on,  tlic  friends  of  Lady  Koeliampton  tliouglit, 
and  spoke,  "with  anxiety  about  lier  rcentrance  into  society.  .Mr. 
Sidney  AVilton  had  lent  Gaydeno  to  her  for  the  autumn,  wlien 
ho  always  visited  Scotland,  and  the  winter  had  passed  away 
uninterruptedly,  at  a  charniing  and  almost  unknown  watering- 
place,  where  she  seemed  the  only  visitant,  and  where  she  wan- 
dered about  in  silence  on  the  sands.  The  time  was  fast  ap- 
proaching when  the  inevitable  year  of  seclusion  would  expire, 
and  Lady  lioehampton  gave  no  indication  of  any  change  in  her 
life  and  habits.  At  length,  after  many  appeals,  and  expostu- 
lations, and  entreaties,  and  little  scenes,  the  second  year  of  the 
Avidowhood  having  advanced  some  months,  it  was  decided  that 
Lady  lioehampton  should  reenter  society,  and  the  occasion  on 
which  this  vras  to  take  place  Avas  no  mean  one. 

Lady  Montfort  Avas  to  give  a  ball  early  in  June,  and  royalty 
itself  Avas  to  be  her  guests.  The  entertainments  at  Montfort 
House  AA'erc  ahvays  magnificent,  but  this  Avas  to  exceed  accus- 
tomed splendor.  All  the  Avorld  Avas  to  be  there,  and  all  the 
Avorld,  Avho  A\'cre  rot  invited,  Avere  in  as  much  despair  as  if 
they  had  lost  their  fortune  or  their  character. 

Lady  Roehampton  had  a  passion  for  light,  provided  the 
light  AA'as  not  supplied  by  gas  or  oil.  Her  saloons,  CA'en  Avhen 
alone,  Avere  ahA'ays  brilliantly  illuminated.  She  held  that  the 
moral  effect  of  such  a  circumstance  on  her  temperament  Avas 
beneficial,  and  not  slight.  It  is  a  rare,  but  by  no  means  a  sin- 
gular, belief.  When  she  descended  into  her  draAving-rooms  on 
the  critical  night,  its  resplendence  AA'as  some  preparation  for 
the  scene  Avhich  awaited  her.  She  stood  for  a  moment  before 
the  tall  mirror  Avhich  reflected  her  Avhole  person.  What  Avero 
her  thoughts  ?  What  Avas  the  impression  that  the  fair  vision 
conveyed  ? 

Her  countenance  A\'as  graA'e,  but  it  avms  not  sad.  Myra  had 
noAV  completed,  or  Avas  on  the  point  of  completing,  her  thirti- 
eth year.  She  Avas  a  Avoman  of  transcendent  beauty  ;  perhaps 
she  might  justly  be  described  as  the  mocfc  beautiful  AVoman 


i  ill 


Tin:  j>rKE  of  st.  axgelo. 


40.1 


10  Hi:  111', 
V.    'My. 

d  tnviiy 

atcriiig- 

ic  waii- 

iist  a})- 

cxpiro, 

0  ill  licr 

'xpostu- 

ir  of  the 

led  that 

loiou  ou 

royalty 
lonti'ort 
d  accus- 

all  the 
lir  as  if 

ded  tlio 
ni  Avlieii 
Jiat  the 
lent  -was 
IS  a  siu- 
ooms  on 
Lion  for 
t  before 
lat  were 
V  vi.-ion 

yra  luid 
L-  thirti- 
pcrhaps 
woman 


then  alive.  Time  liad  even  improved  her  commanding  micii, 
the  graceful  sweep  of  lier  figure  and  tlie  voluptuous  undulation 
of  her  shoulders ;  but  time  also  had  spared  those  charms  which 
arc  more  incidental  to  early  yoi  th,  the  splendor  of  her  com- 
plexion, the  Avhitcncss  of  her  teeth,  and  the  luster  of  her  violet 
eyes.  She  had  cut  olf  in  her  grief  the  profusion  of  her  dark 
chestnut  locks,  that  once  reached  to  her  feet,  and  she  wore  her 
hair  as,  what  Avas  then  and  perhajis  is  now  called,  a  cro}),  but 
it  Avas  luxuriant  in  natural  quantity  and  rich  in  color,  and 
most  cifcctively  set  off  her  arched  brow,  and  the  oval  of  her 
fresh  and  beauteous  cheek.  The  crop  was  crowned  to-night 
by  a  coronet  of  brilliants. 

"Your  carriage  is  ready,  my  lady,"  said  a  servant;  *'but 
there  is  a  gentleman  below  who  has  brought  a  letter  for  your 
ladyship,  and  which,  he  says,  he  must  personally  deliver  to 
you,  madam.  I  told  him  your  ladyship  was  going  out  and 
could  not  see  him,  but  he  put  his  card  in  this  envelope,  and 
requested  that  I  would  hand  it  to  you,  madam.  lie  says  ho 
will  only  deliver  the  letter  to  your  ladyshiii,  and  not  detain 
you  a  moment." 

Lady  Roehampton  opened  the  envelope,  and  read  the  card, 
'•'TriE  Duke  of  St.  Axgelo." 

"  The  Duke  of  St.  Angelo,"  she  murmured  to  herself,  and 
looked  for  a  moment  abstracted.  Then  turning  to  the  servant, 
said,  "  lie  must  be  shown  up." 

'•  Madam,"  said  the  duke  as  he  entered,  and  bowed  with 
much  ceremony,  ''  I  am  ashamed  of  appearing  to  bo  an  intru- 
der, but  my  commands  were  to  deliver  this  ietter  to  your  lady- 
ship immediately  on  my  arrival,  Avhatever  the  hour.  I  have 
only  this  instant  arrived.  We  had  a  bad  passage.  I  know 
your  ladyship's  carriage  is  at  the  door.  I  will  redeem  my 
l)ledgc  and  not  trespass  on  your  time  for  one  instant.  If  your 
ladyship  requires  me,  I  am  ever  at  your  command." 

"At  Carlton  Gardens?" 

"  No  ;  at  our  embassy." 

"  His  majesty,  I  hope,  is  well  ?  " 

*•'  In  every  sense,  my  lady,"  and  bowing  to  the  ground  the 
duke  withdrew. 


1  \ 


If 


'     IJ 


ii:  i  '* 


^i 


il 


40G 


ENDYMIOK 


She  broke  the  seal  of  the  letter  wliile  still  standing,  and 
held  it  to  a  sconce  that  was  on  the  mantel-piece,  and  then 
she  read  : 


i 


'*  You  were  the  only  person  I  called  upon  when  I  suddenly 
left  England.  I  had  no  hope  of  seeing  you,  but  it  was  the 
homage  of  gi'atitude  and  adoration.  Great  events  have  han- 
pened  since  we  last  met.  I  have  realized  my  dreams,  dreams 
Avhicli  I  sometimes  fancied  you,  and  you  alone,  did  not  depre- 
ciate or  discredit,  and,  in  the  sweetness  of  your  charity,  would 
not  have  been  sorry  were  they  accomplished. 

''  I  have  established  what  I  believe  to  be  a  strong  and  just 
government  in  a  great  kingdom.  I  have  not  been  uninfluenced 
by  the  lessons  of  wisdom  I  gained  in  your  illustrious  land.  I 
have  done  some  things  whicli  it  was  a  solace  for  me  to  believe 
you  would  not  altogether  disapprove. 

"  My  subjects  arc  anxious  tliat  the  dynasty  I  have  reestab- 
lished should  not  be  evanescent.  Is  it  too  bold  to  hope  that  I 
may  find  a  companion  in  you  to  charm  and  to  counsel  me  ?  I 
can  offer  you  nothing  equal  to  your  transcendent  merit,  but  I 
can  offer  you  the  heart  and  the  throne  of 

**Florestax." 


I     m 


I*" 


ii[' 
;1l' 


Still  holding  the  letter  in  one  hand,  she  looked  around  as 
if  some  one  might  be  present.  Her  cheek  was  scarlet,  and 
there  was  for  a  moment  an  expression  of  wi  ■  ess  in  her  glance. 
Then  she  paced  the  saloon  with  an  agitated  step,  and  then  she 
road  the  letter  again  and  af;ain,  and  still  she  paced  the  saloon. 
The  whole  history  of  her  liie  revoived  before  her  ;  every  scene, 
every  character,  every  thought,  and  sentiment,  and  passion. 
The  brightness  of  her  nursery  days,  and  Hurstley  with  all  its 
miseries,  and  Hainault  with  its  gardens,  and  the  critical  hour, 
Avhicli  had  opened  to  her  a  future  of  such  unexpected  luster 
and  happiness. 

The  clock  had  struck  more  than  once  during  this  long  and 
terrible  soliloquy,  wherein  she  had  to  search  and  penetrate  her 
inmost  heart,  and  now  it  struck  two.  She  started,  and  hur- 
riedly rang  the  bell. 


aiDXEY   WILTON-  AGITATED. 


407 


ng.  and 
nc!  tlien 


'*  I  shall  not  want  the  carriage  to-night,"  she  said,  and 
■when  again  alone,  she  sat  down  and,  burying  her  face  in  her 
alabaster  arms,  for  a  long  time  remained  motionless. 


11 


Liddenly 

was  the 

ve  hap- 

dreams 

depre- 

would 

nd  just 
luenced 
and.  I 
I  believe 

reestab- 
e  that  I 
me?  I 
t,  but  I 


rAx. 


)> 


ound  as 
et,  and 
glance, 
hen  she 
saloon. 
1^  scene, 
Dassion. 
1  all  its 
\X  hour, 
I  luster 


n^  and 
ate  her 
d  hur- 


CHAPTER  LXXXVIII. 

Had  he  been  a  youth  about  to  make  a  lUhiit  in  the  great 
world,  Sidney  Wilton  could  not  have  hcen  more  agitated  than 
he  felt  at  the  prospect  of  the  fete  at  Montfort  House.  Lady 
Roehampton,  after  nearly  two  years  of  retirement,  was  about 
to  reenter  society.  During  this  interval  she  had  not  been 
estranged  from  him.  On  the  contrary,  he  had  been  her  fre- 
quent and  customary  companion.  Except  Adriana,  and  Lady 
Montfort,  and  her  brother,  it  might  almost  be  said,  her  only 
one.  Why  then  was  he  agitated  ?  He  had  been  living  in  a 
dream  for  two  years,  cherishing  wild  thoughts  of  exquisite 
happiness.  He  would  have  been  content,  had  the  dream  never 
been  disturbed ;  but  this  return  to  hard  and  practical  life  of 
her  whose  unconscious  witchery  had  thrown  a  spell  over  his 
existence,  roused  him  to  the  reality  of  his  position,  and  it  was 
one  of  terrible  emotion. 

During  the  life  of  her  husband,  Sidney  Wilton  had  been 
the  silent  adorer  of  Myra.  With  every  accomplishment  and 
every  advantage  that  are  supposed  to  make  life  delightful — 
a  fine  countenance,  a  noble  mien,  a  manner  natural  and  at- 
tractive, an  ancient  lineage,  and  a  vast  estate — he  was  the 
favorite  of  society,  who  did  more  than  justice  to  his  talents, 
which,  though  not  brilliant,  were  considerable,  and  who  could 
not  too  much  appreciate  the  high  tone  of  his  mind ;  his  gen- 
erosity, and  courage,  and  true  patrician  spirit  which  inspired 
all  his  conduct,  and  guided  him  ever  to  do  that  which  was 
liberal,  and  gracious,  and  just. 

There  was  only  one  fault  which  society  found  in  Sidney 
Wilton ;  he  would  not  marry.  This  was  provoking,  because 
he  was  the  man  of  all  others  who  ought  to  marry,  and  make  a 
heroine  happy.     Society  did  not  give  it  up  till  he  was  forty, 


r 


'  ■  i  i- 


408 


EXDYMIOX. 


^ 


I  ' 


iibout  tlic  time  lie  became  acquainted  with  Lad}'  Tvoeliampton  ; 
and  that  incident  threw  no  hght  on  liis  jiurposes  or  motives, 
for  he  was  as  discreet  as  lie  was  devoted,  and  Mvra  herself  tvas 
unconscious  of  his  being  anything  to  her  save  the  dearest  friend 
of  her  father,  and  the  most  cherished  companion  of  her  husband. 

AVhen  one  feels  dcei)ly,  one  is  ai)t  to  act  suddenly,  perhaps 
rasldy.  There  are  moments  in  life  wlicn  suspense  can  be  borne 
no  longer.  And  Sidney  Wilton,  who  had  been  a  silent  votary 
for  more  than  ten  years,  now  felt  that  the  slightest  delay  in 
his  fate  would  be  intolerable.  It  was  the  ball  at  Montfort 
House  that  should  be  the  scene  of  this  decision  of  destiny. 

She  was  about  to  reenter  society,  radiant  as  the  morn,  amid 
tioAvers  and  music,  and  all  the  accidents  of  social  splendor. 
Ilis  sympathetic  heart  had  been  some  solace  to  her  in  her  sor- 
row and  her  solitude.  Now,  in  the  joyous  blaze  of  life,  he  was 
resolved  to  ask  her  whether  it  were  impossible  that  they  should 
never  again  separate,  and  in  the  crowd,  as  Avell  as  when  alone, 
feel  their  mutual  devotion. 

Mr.  Wilton  was  among  those  who  went  early  to  ^lontfort 
House,  Avliich  was  not  his  wont ;  but  he  was  restless  and  dis- 
quieted. She  could  hardly  have  arrived ;  but  there  would  be 
some  there  who  would  speak  of  her.  That  was  a  great  thing. 
Sidney  Wilton  had  arrived  at  that  state  when  conversation  can 
only  interest  on  one  subject.  When  a  man  is  really  in  love,  he 
is  disposed  to  believe  that,  like  himself,  everybody  is  thinking 
of  the  person  who  engrosses  his  brain  and  heart. 

The  magnificent  saloons,  which  in  half  an  hour  would  be 
almost  impassable,  were  only  sprinkled  with  guests,  who,  how- 
ever, were  constantly  arriving.  Mr.  Wilton  looked  about  him 
in  vain  for  the  person  whom  he  was  quite  sure  could  not  then 
be  present.  He  lingered  by  the  side  of  Lady  Montfort,  who 
bowed  to  those  who  came,  but  who  could  spare  few  consecutive 
words,  even  to  Mr.  Wilton,  for  her  watchful  eye  expected  every 
moment  to  be  summoned  to  descend  her  marble  staircase  and 
receive  her  royal  guests. 

The  royal  guests  arrived  ;  there  was  a  grand  stir,  and  many 
gracious  bows,  and  some  cordial,  but  dignified,  shake-hands. 
The  rooms  were  crowded  ;  yet  space  in  the  ball-room  was  well 


DISPIIiiriXG   THOUGHTS. 


40D 


niptoii ; 
iiotivcs, 
self  tviis 
t  friend 
Lisband. 
perhaps 
iG  borne 
b  votary 
delay  in 
[ontfort 

ny. 

11,  amid 
^lender, 
her  sor- 
,  lie  was 
J  should 
n  alone, 

lontfort 
and  dis- 
i'ould  be 
it  thing, 
tion  can 
love,  lie 
thinking 

vould  bo 
[lo,  how- 
)out  him 
not  then 
ort,  who 
isecutive 
;ed  every 
case  and 

nd  many 
:e-liands. 
was  well 


};re.scrved,  so  that  the  royal  vision  might  range  witli  facility, 
from  its  golden  chairs  to  the  beauteous  beings,  and  still  more 
beautiful  costumes,  displaying  with  fervent  loyalty  their  fasci- 
nating charms. 

There  was  a  new  band  to-night,  that  had  conic  from  .<omo 
distant  but  celebrated  capital ;  musicians  known  by  fame  to 
everybody,  but  whom  nobody  had  ever  heard.  They  i)laycd 
wonderfully  on  instruments  of  new  invention,  and  divinely 
upon  old  ones.  It  was  impossible  that  anything  could  be  more 
gay  and  inspiriting  than  their  silver  bugles,  and  their  carillons 
of  tinkling  bells. 

They  found  an  echo  in  the  heart  of  Sidney  Wilton,  who, 
seated  near  the  entrance  of  the  ball-room,  watched  everv  arrival 
with  anxious  expectation.  But  the  anxiety  vanished  for  a 
moment  under  the  influence  of  the  fantastic  and  frolic  strain. 
It  seemed  a  harbinger  of  happiness  and  joy.  lie  fell  into  a 
reverie,  and  wandered  witli  a  delightful  companion  in  castles 
of  perpetual  sunshine,  and  green  retreats,  and  pleasant  terraces. 

But  the  lady  never  came. 

Then  the  strain  changed.  There  happened  to  be  about 
this  time  a  truly  diabolic  opera  much  in  vogue,  Avith  unearthly 
choruses,  and  dances  of  fiendish  revelry.  These  had  been  skill- 
fully adapted  and  introduced  by  the  musicians,  converting  a 
dark  and  tragic  theme  into  wild  and  grotesque  merriment. 
But  they  could  not  succeed  in  diverting  the  mind  of  one  of 
their  audience  from  the  character  of  the  original  composition. 
Dark  thoughts  and  images  fell  upon  the  spirit  of  Sidney  Wil- 
ton ;  his  hope  and  courage  left  him.  He  almost  felt  he  could 
not  execute  to-night  the  bold  purpose  he  had  brooded  over. 
He  did  not  feel  in  good  fortune.  There  seemed  some  demon 
gibbering  near  him,  and  he  was  infinitely  relieved,  like  a  man 
released  from  some  mesmeric  trance,  wdien  the  music  ceased, 
the  dance  broke  up,  and  he  found  himself  surrounded,  not  by 
demons,  but  the  usual  companions  of  his  daily  life. 

But  the  lady  never  came. 

"  Where  can  your  sister  be  ?  "  said  Lady  Montfort  to  En- 
dymion.  "  She  promised  me  to  come  early  ;  something  must 
have  happened.    Is  she  ill?" 

18 


m\ 


n  i  II 


,■'( 


\m 


If  ; 

V 


I!  'I 
11  I- 
|.'!!J 


>       * 


410 


EXDYMUjX. 


li\w'^'\ 


**  Quite  Avcll ;  I  siiw  her  before  I  left  Hill  Street.  She 
wished  1110  to  come  alone,  a?  she  would  not  1)e  here  early." 

"I  hojic  .she  will  be  in  time  for  the  royal  supper  tabic;  I 
quite  count  on  her." 

"  She  is  sure  to  be  here." 

Lord  Ilainault  was  in  earnest  conversation  with  Baron  Scr- 
gius,  now  the  minister  of  King  Florestan  at  the  Court  of  St. 
James'.  It  was  a  wise  appointment,  for  Sergius  knew  inti- 
mately all  the  English  statesmen  of  eminence,  and  had  hnown 
them  for  many  years.  T^iey  did  not  look  ujion  him  as  the 
mere  rcpresentatiyc  of  a  revolutionary  and  parvenu  sovereign  ; 
he  was  quite  one  of  themselves,  had  graduated  at  the  Congress 
of  Vienna,  and^  it  was  believed,  had  softened  many  subsequent 
difficulties  by  his  sagacity.  He  had  always  been  a  cherished 
guest  at  Apsley  House,  and  it  was  knoAvn  the  great  duke  often 
consulted  him.  *'As  long  as  Sergius  sways  his  councils,  He 
will  indulge  in  no  adventures,"  said  Europe.  ''As  long  as 
Sergius  remains  here,  the  English  allirnce  is  safe,"  said  Eng- 
land. After  Europe  and  England,  the  most  important  conli- 
dence  to  obtain  was  that  of  Lord  ILainault,  and  Baron  Sergius 
had  boon  not  unsuccessful  in  that  respect. 

''Your  master  has  only  to  be  liberal  and  steady,"  said  Lord 
Ilainault,  with  his  accustomed  genial  yet  half-sarcastic  smile, 
"  and  he  may  have  anything  he  likes.  But  we  do  not  want  any 
wars  ;  they  are  not  liked  in  the  City." 

"  Our  policy  is  peace,"  said  Sergius. 

'"I  think  we  ought  to  congratulate  Sir  Peter,"  said  JMr. 
Waldershare  to  Adriana,  with  Avhom  he  had  been  dancing,  and 
whom  he  was  leading  back  to  Lady  Ilainault.  "  Sir  Peter,  here 
is  a  lady  who  wishes  to  congratulate  you  on  your  deserved  ele- 
vation." 

"Well,  I  do  not  know  what  to  say  about  it,"  said  the  for- 
mer Mr.  "Vigo,  highly  gratified,  but  a  little  confused ;  "  my 
friends  would  have  it." 

"Ay,  ay,"  said  Waldershare,  "  'at  the  request  of  friends  ;' 
the  excuse  I  gave  for  publishing  my  sonnets."  And  then,  ad- 
vancing, he  delivered  his  charge  to  her  chajperon,  who  looked 
dreamy,  abstracted,  and  uninterested. 


JOD'S  IXVITATIOX. 


II 


t.     She 
ly." 
tabic  ;  I 


von  Scr- 
rt  of  St. 
icw  inti- 

I  known 
n  as  the 
ivcrcign  ; 
Congress 
bscquent 
ihcrishecl 
ike  often 
ncilfi,  He 
5  long  as 
;aid  Eng- 
int  conli- 

II  Scrgius 

said  Lord, 
tic  smile, 
want  any 


said  ^[r. 
cing,  and 
eter,  hero 
}rYed  ele- 

i  the  for- 
sed ;  ''my 

friends ; ' 

then,  ad- 

ho  looked 


*'"\Ve  have  just  been  congratulating  the  new  baronet,  Sir 
Peter  Vigo,"  said  Waldershare. 

**  Ah  !  "  said  Lady  Ilainault  with  a  contemptuous  sigh,  '*  he 
is,  at  any  rate,  not  obliged  to  change  his  name.  The  desire  to 
change  one's  name  does  indeed  appear  to  me  to  be  a  singular 
folly.  If  vour  name  had  been  disgraccil,  I  could  understand 
it,  as  I  could  understand  a  man  then  going  about  in  a  mask. 
But  the  odd  thing  is,  the  persons  who  always  want  to  cliange 
their  names  arc  those  whose  names  are  the  most  honored." 

'•  Oh,  3'ou  are  here  !"  said  Mr.  St.  Barbe  acidly  to  I\rr.  Sey- 
mour llicks.  *•  I  think  you  are  every  where.  I  suppose  they  will 
make  you  a  baronet  next.  llaA'C  }ou  seen  the  batch  ?  I  could 
not  believe  my  eyes  when  I  read  it.  I  believe  the  government 
is  demented.  Not  a  single  literary  man  among  them.  Not  that 
I  wanted  their  baronetc}'.  Nothing  Avould  have  tempted  me  to 
accept  one.  But  tliere  is  (iushy  ;  he,  1  know,  would  have  liked 
it.  I  must  say  I  feel  for  Oushy  ;  his  works  only  selling  half 
Avhat  they  did,  and  then  throAvn  over  in  this  insolent  manner  ! " 

*'Gushyis  not  in  society,"  said  Mr.  Seymour  Ilicks  in  a 
solemn  tone  of  contemptuous  pity. 

*'  That  is  society,"  said  St.  Barbe  as  he  received  a  bow  of 
haughty  grace  from  Mrs.  Rodney,  Avho,  fascinating  and  fasci- 
nated, was  listening  to  the  enamored  murmurs  of  an  individ- 
ual with  a  very  bright  star  and  a  very  red  ribbon. 

"I  dined  with  the  Rodneys  yesterday,"  said  Mr.  Seymour 
Ilicks  ;  ''they  do  the  thing  well." 

"You  dined  there  I  "  exclaimed  St.  Barbe.  "It  is  very 
odd,  they  have  never  asked  me.  Not  that  I  would  have  accept- 
ed their  invitation.  I  avoid  parvenus.  The}-  are  too  fidgety 
for  my  taste.  I  rerpiire  repose,  and  only  dine  with  the  old 
nobility." 


CHAPTER  LXXXIX. 

The  Right  Honorable  Job  Thornberry  and  Mrs.  Thornberry 
had  received  an  invitation  to  the  Montfort  ball.  Job  took  up 
the  card,  and  turned  it  over  more  than  once,  and  looked  at  it 


\ 


I 


i 


1 

II 

I    4 


412 


LWIfYMWX. 


as  if  it  were  .somo  .<ti'au;;o  auiinal,  witli  an  air  of  pleaded  and 
yet  cynical  pci'iilcxity  ;  then  ho  .shru;j^^i'(l  his  shoiildor.s  and 
inurnuircd  to  hinisoU",  '"  Xo  ;  I  don't  think  that  will  do.  Be- 
sides, I  must  be  at  Ilurstley  by  that  time." 

(Join^^  to  Ilurstley  now  was  not  so  formidable  an  alTair  as 
it  was  in  Endyniion'.s  boyhood.  Then  the  journey  occupied  a 
whole  and  wearisome  day.  Little  Ilurstley  had  become  a  l)usy 
.station  of  the  great  Sla})-I>ang  railway,  and  a  dispatch  train 
landed  you  at  the  bustling  and  nourishing  hostelry,  our  old 
and  luunble  friend,  the  llorsc  Shoe,  within  the  two  hours.  It 
was  a  rate  that  satisfied  even  'riiornberrv,  and  almost  recon- 
ciled  him  to  the  too  frecpient  j)rcsence  of  his  wife  aud  family 
at  Ilurstley,  a  phv-o  to  Avhich  Mrs.  I'hornberry  had,  it  would 
seem,  become  ])assionately  attached. 

"  There  is  a  charm  about  the  place  I  must  say,"  said  Job  to 
himself,  as  he  reached  his  ])ictures(pie  home  on  a  rich  summer 
evening  ;  ''and  yet  I  hated  it  as  a  boy.  To  bo  sure,  I  was  then 
discontented  ajul  unhajtpy,  and  now  I  have  every  reason  to  bo 
much  the  reverse.  Our  feelings  affect  even  scenery.  It  cer- 
tainly is  a  pretty  jdacc  ;  I  really  think  one  of  the  prettiest 
jdaces  in  England." 

Job  was  cordially  Avelcomed.  His  wife  embraced  him,  and 
the  younger  children  clung  to  him  with  an  affection  Avhich  was 
not  diminished  by  the  remembrance  that  their  father  never 
visited  them  with  empty  hands.  His  eldest  son,  a  good-look- 
ing and  well-grown  striplii  ;•,  just  home  for  the  holidays,  stood 
apart,  determined  to  show  he  was  a  man  of  the  world,  and 
superior  to  the  weakness  of  domestic  sensibility.  "When  the 
hubbub  was  a  little  over,  he  advanced  and  shook  hands  with 
his  father  with  a  certain  dignity. 

*'And  when  did  you  arrive,  my  boy  ?  I  was  looking  up 
your  train  in  Bradshaw  as  I  came  along.  I  made  out  you 
should  get  the  branch  at  Culvers  Gate." 

*'I  drove  over,"  replied  the  son  ;  "I  and  a  friend  of  mine 
drove  tandem,  and  I'll  bet  we  got  here  sooner  than  we  should 
have  done  by  the  branch." 

''  Hem  !  "  said  Job  Thornberry. 

** Job,"  said  Mrs.  Thornberry,  '"I  have  made  two  engage- 


t/:a  at  rnr:  uEcronv 


-113 


nicnt.-!  for  you  this  cvcniiiir.     First,  wc  will  fio  nnd  sec  your 
fiitlitT,  1111(1  then  we  are  to  drink  tea  at  the  reetorv.*' 

*•  Jleiii  !  *'  .Slid  Job  Tlioriil)i.'rry  ;  "well,  I  would  ratlier  the 
(ir.<t  cveniiif];  should  have  been  a  iiuiet  one  ;  but  let  it  be  so." 

The  visit  to  the  father  was  kind,  dutiful,  and  wearisome. 
There  was  not  ii  single  subject  on  which  the  father  and  son  had 
thoughts  in  common.  The  eonversatioii  of  the  father  took 
various  forms  of  expressing  his  wonder  that  his  son  had  become 
what  he  was,  and  the  son  could  only  smile,  and  turn  the  sub- 
ject, by  asking  after  the  produce  of  some  pi.rtieular  Held  that 
had  been  prolitic  or  obstinate  iii  old  days.  Mrs.  Thornberry 
looked  absent  and  was  thinking  of  the  rectory;  the  grandson 
who  had  accomi)anicd  them  was  siloiit  and  supercilious  ;  and 
everybody  felt  relieved  when  IMrs.  Thornberry,  veiling  her 
impatience  by  her  fear  of  keci>iiig  her  father-in-law  up  late, 
made  a  determined  move  and  concluded  the  domestic  cere- 
mony. 

The  rectory  afforded  a  lively  contrast  to  the  late  scene. 
Mr.  and  ^Mrs.  Penruddock  Avere  full  of  intelligence  and  anima- 
tion. Their  welcome  of  Mr.  Thornberry  was  exactly  what  it 
ought  to  have  been  ;  respectful,  even  somewhat  deferential, 
but  cordial  and  unairectcd.  They  conversed  on  all  subjects, 
imblic  and  private,  and  on  both  sremcd  equally  well  informed, 
for  they  not  only  read  more  than  one  newspaper,  but  ^frs. 
Penruddock  had  an  extensive  correspondence,  the  conduct  of 
which  was  one  of  the  chief  jileasures  and  excitements  of  her 
life.  Their  tea-erpiipagc  too  was  a  i)icture  of  abundance  and 
refinement.  Such  pretty  china,  and  sucli  various  and  delicious 
eates  !  White  bread,  and  brown  ])rcad,  and  plum  cakes,  and 
seed  cakes,  and  no  eml  of  cracknels,  and  toasts,  dry  or  but- 
tered. Mrs.  Thornberry  seemed  enchanted  and  gushing  with 
affection — everybody  was  dear  or  dearest.  Even  the  face  of 
John  Hampden  beamed  with  condescending  delight  as  he  de- 
voured a  pyramid  of  dainties. 

Just  before  the  tea-equipage  was  introduced  Mrs.  Penrud- 
dock rose  from  her  scat  and  whispered  something  to  Mrs. 
Thornberry,  who  seemed  pleased,  and  agitated,  and  a  little 
blushiuiT,  and  then  their  hostess  addressed  Job  and  said,  '*  I 


\\ 


Em 


i 


I     I 


"WS 


414 


EXDYMIOX. 


Avas  mentioning  lo  your  "vvife  that  the  archbisliop  was  liere,  and 
that  I  hope  you  v/ould  not  dislike  meeting  him." 

And  very  sliortly  after  this,  the  archbishop,  who  had  been 
taking  a  village  walk,  entered  the  room.  It  was  evident  that 
he  was  intimate  with  the  occupiers  of  Ilurstley  Hall.  lie  ad- 
dressed Mrs.  Thornberry  with  the  ease  of  habitual  acquaint- 
ance, while  John  ILunpden  seemed  almost  to  rush  into  his 
arms.  Job  liimself  had  seen  his  grace  in  London,  tliough  ho 
had  never  had  the  opportunity  of  speaking  to  him,  but  yielded 
to  his  cordiality,  Avhen  the  archbishop,  on  his  being  named, 
said,  ''It  is  a  pleasure  to  meet  an  old  friend,  and  in  times  past 
a  kind  one." 

It  was  a  most  agreeable  evening.  The  archbishop  talked 
to  every  one,  but  never  seemed  to  engross  the  conversation. 
lie  talked  to  the  ladies  of  gardens,  and  cottages,  and  a  little 
of  books,  seemed  deeply  interested  in  the  studies  and  progress 
of  the  grandson,  Tliornberry,  Avho  evidently  idolized  liini ; 
and  in  due  course  his  grace  Avas  engaged  in  economical  specu- 
lations Avith  Job  himself,  aa'Iio  AA'as  quite  pleased  to  And  a  priest 
as  liberal  and  enlightened  as  he  Avas  able  and  thoroughly  in- 
formed. An  hour  before  midnight,  they  separated,  though 
tlic  archbishop  attended  them  to  the  hu'". 

Mrs.  Thornberry's  birthday  Avas  near  at  hand,  which  Job 
always  commemorated  Avith  a  gift.  It  had  commenced  Avith 
some  scA'cre  offering,  like  ''  Paradise  Lost,"  then  it  fell  into 
the  gentler  form  of  Tennyson,  and,  of  late,  unconsciously  un- 
der the  influence  of  his  Avife,  it  had  taken  the  shape  of  a  brace- 
let or  a  shaAvl. 

This  evening,  as  lu  v,as  rather  feeling  his  Avay  as  to  Avliat 
might  please  her  most,  Mrs.  Tl\ornberry  embracing  him,  and 
hiding  her  face  on  his  breast,  murmured:  *'Do  not  giA'e  mo 
any  Jewel,  dear  Job.  What  I  should  like,  Avould  be  that  you 
should  restore  the  cha])el  here." 

"Restore  the  chajjcl  here  !  oh,  oh  I  "  said  Job  Thornberry. 


lere,  and 

uid  been 

ent  tlia't 

Ue  ad- 

cquaint- 

into  his 

ougli  ho 

yielded 

named, 

mcs  past 

p  talked 
orsation. 
d  a  little 
progress 
k1  him  ; 
il  s])ecu- 

a  priest 
ii?lilv  in- 

though 

lich  Job 
;ed  with 
fell  into 
usly  un- 
a  brace- 
to  what 
im,  and 
give  mo 
hat  you 

rn  berry. 


THE  CHAPEL. 


CHAPTER    XC. 


415 


The  archbishop  called  at  Ilurstley  Ilou.^e  the  next  day.  It 
was  a  visit  to  Mr.  Thornberry,  but  all  the  family  was  soon 
present,  and  clustered  round  the  visitor.  Then  they  walked 
together  in  the  gardens,  which  had  become  radiant  under  the 
taste  and  unlimited  expenditure  of  ^Irs.  Thornberry  ;  beds 
glowing  with  color  or  rivaling  mosaics,  choice  conifers  with 
their  green  or  purple  fruit,  and  rare  roses  witli  their  fanciful 
and  beauteous  names ;  one,  by  the  bye,  named  "  Mrs.  Penrud- 
dock,"  and  a  very  gorgeous  one,  ''The  Archbishop." 

As  they  swept  along  the  terraces,  restored  to  their  pristine 
comeliness,  and  down  the  green  avenues  bounded  by  copper 
beeches  and  ancient  yews,  where  men  wore  sweeping  away  every 
leaf  and  tv;ig  that  had  fallen  in  the  night  and  marred  the  con- 
summate order,  it  must  have  been  ditRcult  for  the  Archbishop 
of  Tyre  not  to  recall  the  days  gone  by,  when  this  brilliant  and 
finished  scene,  then  desolate  and  neglected,  the  abode  of  beauty 
and  genius,  yet  almost  of  penury,  had  been  to  him  a  world  of 
deep  and  familiar  interest.  Yes,  he  was  walking  in  the  same 
glade  where  he  had  once  pleaded  his  own  cause  with  an  elo- 
quence which  none  of  his  most  celebrated  sermons  had  excelled. 
Did  he  think  of  this  ?  If  he  did,  it  was  only  to  wrench  the 
thought  from  his  memory.  Archbishops  who  are  yet  young, 
who  are  resolved  to  be  cardinals,  and  who  may  bo  pojjes,  are 
superior  to  all  human  weakness. 

"I  should  like  to  look  at  your  chapel,"  said  his  grace  to 
Mr.  Thornberry  ;  "I  remember  it  a  lumber-room,  and  used  to 
mourn  over  its  desecration." 

**I  never  was  in  it,"  said  Job,  ''andean  not  understand 
why  my  wife  is  so  anxious  about  it  as  she  seems  to  be.  When 
we  first  went  to  London,  she  always  sat  under  the  Reverend 
Socinus  Frost,  and  seemed  very  satisfied.  I  have  heard  him  ; 
a  sensible  man — but  sermons  are  not  much  in  my  Avay,  and  I 
do  not  belong  to  his  sect,  or  indeed  any  other." 

However,  they  went  to  the  chapel  all  the  same,  for  Mrs. 
Thornberry  was  resolved  on  the  visit.    It  was  a  small  chani- 


I 


k 


1   i| 


J 


416 


ENDYMIOX. 


ber,  but  beautifully  proportioned,  like  the  mansion  itself — of  a 
blended  Jttiliiin  and  gotliic  style.  The  roof  was  flat,  but  had 
been  richly  gilt  and  painted,  and  Avas  sustained  by  corbels  of 
angels,  divinely  carved.  There  had  been  some  pews  in  the 
building ;  some  had  fallen  to  pieces,  and  some  remained,  but 
these  were  not  in  the  original  design.  The  sacred  tabic  had 
disappeared,  but  two  saintly  statues,  sculptured  in  black  oak, 
seemed  still  to  guard  the  spot  Avhich  it  had  consecrated. 

"I  wonder  what  became  of  the  communion  table  ?"  said 
Job. 

''Oh  !  my  dear  father,  do  not  call  it  a  communion  table," 
exclaimed  John  Hampden,  pettishly. 

''Why,  wduit  should  I  call  it,  my  boy  ?  " 

"  The  altar." 

*'AVhy,  what  does  it  signify  what  we  call  it  ?  The  thing 
is  the  same." 

"Ah  !  "  exclaimed  the  young  gentleman,  in  a  tone  of  con- 
temptuous enthusiasm,  "it  is  all  the  difference  in  the  world. 
There  should  be  a  stone  altar  and  a  reredos.  We  have  put  up  a 
reredos  in  our  chapel  at  Bradley.     All  the  fellows  subscribed  ; 


5> 


I  gave  a  sovereign. 

"Well,  I  must  say,"  said  the  archbishop,  who  had  been 
standing  in  advance  with  Mrs.  Thornberry  and  the  children, 
while  this  brief  and  becoming  conversation  was  taking  place  be- 
tween father  and  son,  "I  think  you  could  hardly  do  a  better 
thing  than  restore  this  chapel,  Mr.  Thornberry,  but  there  must 
be  no  mistake  about  it.  It  must  be  restored  to  the  letter,  and 
it  is  a  stylo  that  is  not  commonly  understood.  I  have  a  friend, 
however,  who  is  master  of  it,  the  most  rising  man  in  his  pro- 
fession, as  far  as  church  architecture  is  concerned,  and  I  will  get 
him  just  to  run  down  and  look  at  this,  and  if,  as  I  hope,  you 
resolve  to  restore  it,  rest  assured  he  will  do  you  justice,  and 
you  will  be  proud  of  your  place  of  worship." 

"  I  do  not  care  how  much  we  spend  on  our  gardens,"  said 
Job,  "for  they  are  transitory  pleasures,  and  we  enjoy  what  we 
produce  ;  but  why  I  should  restore  a  chapel  in  a  house  which 
does  not  belong  to  myself  is  not  so  clear  to  me. " 

"  But  it  should  belong  to  yourself,"  rejoined  the  archbishop. 


AN'  IMPORTAXT  LETTER. 


4ir 


oak, 


*'  Ilnr.stley  is  not  in  the  market,  but  it  is  to  be  purchiised. 
Ttike  it  altogether,  ^  have  always  thought  it  one  of  the  most 
enviable  possessions  in  the  world.  The  house,  when  put  in 
order,  would  be  one  of  the  ornaments  of  the  kingdom.  The 
acreage,  though  considerable,  is  not  overwhelming,  and  there 
is  a  range  of  wild  country  of  endless  charm.  I  wandered  about 
it  in  my  childhood  and  my  youth,  and  I  have  nover  known 
anything  equal  to  it.  Then  as  to  tlic  soil  and  all  that,  you 
know  it.  You  arc  a  son  of  the  soil.  You  loft  it  for  great  ob- 
jects, and  you  have  attained  those  objects.  They  have  given 
you  fame  as  well  as  fortune.  There  would  be  something  won- 
derfully dignified  and  graceful  in  returning  to  the  land  after 
you  liave  taken  the  principal  part  in  solving  the  dillicult  es 
which  pertained  to  it,  and  emancipating  it  from  many 
perils." 

**  I  am  sure  it  would  bo  the  happiest  day  of  my  life,  if  Job 
would  purchase  Ilurstlcy,"  said  ^Mrs.  Thornberry. 

"I  should  like  to  go  to  Oxford,  and  my  father  purchase 
Ilurstley,"  said  the  young  gentleman.  "  If  we  have  not  landed 
property,  I  would  sooner  have  none.  If  Ave  have  not  land,  I 
should  like  to  go  into  the  Church,  and  if  I  mav  not  20  to  Ox- 
ford,  I  would  go  to  Cuddesdon  at  once.  I  know  it  can  be  done, 
for  I  know  a  fellow  who  has  done  it." 

Poor  Job  Thornberry  !  lie  had  ruled  multitudes,  and  had 
conrpiered  and  commanded  senates.  Ilis  Sovereign  had  made 
him  one  of  her  privy  councilors,  and  half  a  million  of  people 
had  returned  him  their  representative  to  Parliament.  And 
here  he  stood  silent,  and  a  little  confused  ;  sapped  by  his  wife, 
bullied  by  his  son,  and  after  having  ]iassed  a  great  part  of  his 
life  in  denouncing  sacerdotalism,  finding  his  whole  future  ca- 
reer chalked  out,  without  himself  being  consulted,  by  a  priest 
who  was  so  polite,  sensible,  and  so  truly  friendly,  that  his  man- 
ner seemed  to  deprive  its  victims  of  every  faculty  of  retort  or 
repartee.  Still  he  was  going  to  say  something  when  the  door 
opened,  and  Mrs.  Penruddock  appeared,  exclaiming  in  a  cheer- 
ful voice,  ''I  thought  I  should  find  you  here.  I  would  not 
have  troubled  your  grace,  but  this  letter  marked  'private,  im- 
mediate, and  to  be  forwarded,'  has  been  wandering  about  for 


;■ 


1  :  I 


if 


418 


ENDYMIOX. 


sonic  time,  and  I  tliouglit  it  was  bettor  to  bring  it  to  you  at 


once. 


J> 


The  Archbishop  of  Tyre  took  the  letter,  unci  toC'^mcd  to  start 
as  he  read  the  direction.  Then  he  stood  aside,  opencu  it,  and 
read  its  contents.  The  letter  was  from  Lady  Roehampton,  de- 
siring tu  see  him  as  soon  as  possible  on  a  matter  of  the  utmost 
gravity,  and  entreating  him  not  to  delay  his  departure,  wher- 
ever he  might  be. 

"I  am  sorry  to  quit  you  all,"  said  liis  grace  ;  '^but  I  must 
go  up  to  town  immediately.     The  business  is  urgent." 


I    « 


•I 


I  ll'^lt 


CHAPTER  XCI. 

SxDYiiiox  arrived  at  home  very  late  from  the  Montfort 
ball,  and  rose  in  consequence  at  an  unusually  late  hour.  Ho 
had  taken  means  to  become  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the 
cause  of  his  sister's  absence  the  niglit  before,  so  he  had  no  anx- 
iety on  that  head.  Lady  Roehamptor  had  really  intended  to 
have  been  present,  was  indeed  dressed  for  the  occasion  ;  but 
when  the  moment  of  trial  arrived,  she  was  absolutely  unequal 
to  the  effort.  All  this  vras  amplified  in  a  little  note  from  his 
sister,  which  his  valet  brought  him  in  the  morning.  What, 
however,  considerably  surprised  him  in  this  communication  was 
her  announcement  that  her  feelings  last  niglit  had  proved  to 
her  that  she  ought  not  to  remain  in  London,  and  tluit  she  in- 
tended to  find  solitude  and  repose  in  the  little  watering-place 
where  she  had  passed  a  tranquil  autumn  during  the  first  year 
of  her  Avidowhood.  What  completed  his  astonishment,  how- 
ever, was  the  closing  intimation  that,  in  all  i)robability,  she 
Avould  have  left  town  before  he  rose.  The  moment  she  had  got 
a  little  settled  she  Avould  y/rito  to  him,  and  when  business  per- 
mitted, he  must  come  and  pay  her  a  little  visit. 

"  She  was  always  capricious,"  exclaimed  Lady  Montfort,  who 
had  not  forgotten  the  disturbance  of  her  royal  supper-table. 

rdly  that  I  think,"  said  Endymion.     *'  I  have  always 
u  Myra  as  a  singularly  consistent  character." 


a 


LADY  MONTFORT  OFFEXDED. 


119 


''  I  know,  you  never  admit  your  sister  luis  a  fault." 

''You  said  the  other  day  yourself  that  she  was  the  only 
perfect  character  j^ou  knew." 

"  Did  I  say  that  ?    I  think  her  capricious." 

'*  I  do  not  think  you  arc  capricious,"  said  Endymion,  ''  and 
yet  the  world  sometimes  says  you  are. " 

''I  change  my  opinion  of  persons  when  my  taste  is  oilend- 
ed,"  said  Lady  Montfort.  ''What  I  admired  in  your  sister, 
though  I  confess  I  sometimes  wislicd  not  to  admire  her,  was 
that  she  never  offended  my  taste. " 

*'  I  hope  satisfied  it,"  said  Endymion. 

"Yes,  satisfied  it,  always  satisfied  it.  I  wonder  what  will 
be  her  lot,  for  considering  her  youth,  her  destiny  has  hardly 
begun.  Somehow  or  other,  I  do  not  tliink  she  will  marry 
Sidney  AYilton." 

"  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  Avould  be,"  said  En- 
dymion. 

"Well,  it  would  be,  I  think,  a  happy  match.  All  the  cir- 
cumstances would  bo  collected  that  form  what  is  supposed  to 
be  happiness.  But  tastes  differ  about  destinies  as  well  as  about 
manners.  For  my  part,  I  think  to  have  a  husband  who  loved 
you,  and  he  clever,  accomplished,  charming,  ambitious,  would 
be  happiness ;  but  I  doubt  whether  your  sister  cares  so  much 
about  these  things.  She  may,  of  course  does,  talk  to  you  more 
freely ;  but  with  others,  in  her  most  open  hours,  there  seems 
a  secret  fund  of  reserve  in  her  character  which  I  never  could 
penetrate,  except,  I  think,  it  is  a  reserve  which  does  not  origi- 
nate in  a  love  of  tranquillity,  but  quite  the  reverse.  She  is  a 
strong  character." 

"  Then,  hardly  a  capricious  one." 

"  No,  not  capricious  ;  I  only  said  that  to  tease  you.  I  am 
capricious  ;  I  know  it.  I  disregard  people  sometimes  that  I 
have  patronized  and  flattered.  It  is  not  merely  that  I  have 
changed  my  opinion  of  them,  but  I  positively  hate  them." 

"  I  hope  you  Avill  never  hate  me,"  said  Endymion. 

"  You  have  never  offended  my  taste  yet,"  said  Lady  Mont- 
fort with  a  smile. 

Endymion  was  engaged  to  dine  to-day  with  Mr.   Bertie 


r  \ 


m 


Hil 


!     * 


420 


EXDYMION. 


Trcmainc.  Altlioiigli  now  in  hostile  political  camps,  that 
great  I'^ader  of  men  never  permitted  their  acquaintance  ta 
cease.  ''  lie  is  young,"  reasoned  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine  ;  "every 
political  party  changes  its  principles  on  an  average  once  in  ten 
years.  Those  who  are  young  must  often  then  form  new  con- 
nections, and  Fcrrars  will  then  conie  to  me.  He  will  bo  ripe 
;nid  experienced,  and  I  could  give  him  a  good  deal.  I  do  not 
want  numbers.  I  want  men.  In  opposition,  numbers  often 
only  embarrass.  The  power  of  tht  future  is  ministerial  capa- 
city. The  leader  with  a  cabinet  foimed  will  be  the  minister 
of  England,  lie  is  not  to  trouble  himself  about  numbers ; 
that  is  an  affair  of  the  constituencies." 

Male  dinners  are  in  general  not  amusing.  When  they  are 
formed,  as  they  usually  are,  of  men  who  arc  supposed  to  possess 
a  strong  and  common  sympathy — political,  sporting,  literary, 
military,  social — tliere  is  necessarily  a  monotony  of  thought 
and  feeling,  and  of  tiic  materials  which  induce  thought  and 
feeling.  In  a  male  dinner  of  party  politicians,  conversation 
soon  degenerates  into  what  is  termed  "  shop  "  ;  anecdotes  about 
divisions,  criticism  of  speeches,  conjectures  about  office,  specu- 
lations on  impending  .lections,  and  above  all,  that  heinous 
subject  on  which  enormous  fibs  are  ever  told,  the  registration. 
Tliere  are,  however,  occasional  glimpses  in  their  talk  wdiicli 
would  seem  to  intimate  that  they  have  another  life  outside  the 
Houses  of  Parliament.  But  that  extenuating  circumstance 
does  not  apply  to  the  sporting  dinner.  There  they  begin  with 
odds  and  handicaps,  and  end  with  handicaps  and  odds,  and  it 
is  doubtful  whether  it  ever  occurs  to  any  one  present,  that 
there  is  any  other  existing  combination  of  atoms  except  odds 
and  handicaps.  A  dinner  of  wits  is  proverbially  a  palace  of 
silence  ;  and  the  envy  "ul  hatred  Avhich  all  literary  men  really 
feel  for  each  other,  especially  when  they  are  exchanging  dedi- 
cations of  mutual  affection,  always  insure,  in  such  assemblies, 
the  agreeable  presence  of  a  general  feeling  of  painful  constraint. 
If  a  good  thing  occurs  to  a  guest,  he  will  not  express  it,  lest 
his  neighbor,  who  is  publishing  a  novel  in  numbers,  shall  ap- 
propriate it  next  month,  or  he  himself,  who  has  the  same  re- 
sponsibility of  production,  be  deprived  of  its  legitimate  appear- 


!i!! 


AMUSIXCr   EXIIIBiriOX.^. 


421 


that 


ance.  Those  who  desire  to  learn  sometlihig  of  the  manconvrcs 
at  the  Russian  and  Prussian  reviews,  or  tlie  hist  rumor  at 
Aldershot  or  the  military  clubs,  will  know  where  to  find  this 
feast  of  reason.  The  How  of  soul  in  these  male  festivals  is 
l^crhaps,  on  the  wliolc,  more  genial  when  found  in  a  society  of 
young  gentlemen,  graduates  of  the  Turf  and  tlie  Marlborough, 
and  guided  in  their  benignant  studies  by  the  gentle  experience 
and  tlie  mild  wisdom  of  Wliite's.  The  startling  scandal,  the 
rattling  anecdote,  the  astounding  leaps,  and  the  amazing  liots, 
afford  for  the  moment  a  somewhat  })leasing  distraction,  but 
when  it  is  discovered  that  all  these  habitual  flim-ilams  arc,  in 
general,  the  airy  creatures  of  inaccuracy  and  exaggeration — 
that  tho  scandal  is  not  true,  the  anecdote  has  no  foundation, 
and  that  the  feats  of  skill  and  strength  are  invested  with  the 
organic  weakness  of  tradition,  the  vagaries  lose  something  of 
the  charm  of  novelt}',  and  are  almost  as  insipid  as  claret  from 
which  the  bouquet  has  evaporated. 

The  male  dinners  of  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine  Avere  an  exception 
to  the  general  /eputation  of  such  meetings.  They  were  never 
dull.  In  the  first  place,  though  to  be  known  at  least  by  repu- 
tation was  an  indispensable  condition  of  being  present,  he 
brought  different  classes  together,  and  this,  at  least  for  once, 
stimulates  and  gratifies  curiosity.  His  house  too  was  open  to 
foreigners  of  celebrity,  without  reference  to  their  political 
parties  or  opinions.  Every  one  was  welcome  except  absolute 
assassins.  The  host  too  had  studied  the  art  of  developing 
character  and  conversation,  and  if  sometimes  he  was  not  so 
successful  in  this  respect  as  he  deserved,  there  was  no  lack  of 
amusing  entertainment,  for  in  these  social  encounters  Mr. 
Bertie  Trema"ne  was  a  reserve  in  himself,  and  if  nobody  else 
would  talk,  he  would  avail  himself  of  the  ojiportunity  of  pour- 
ing forth  the  treasures  of  his  own  teeming  intelligence.  His 
various  knowledge,  his  power  of  speech,  his  eccentric  paradoxes, 
his  pompous  rhetoric,  relieved  by  some  happy  sarcasm,  and  the 
obvious  sense,  in  all  he  said  and  did,  of  innate  superiority  to  all 
his  guests,  made  these  exhibitions  extremely  amusing. 

"What  Bertie  Tremaine  will  end  in,"  Endymion  would 
sometimes  say,  ''perjilexes  me.     Had  there  been  no  revolution 


MHM 


I 


B 


422 


ENDYMIOy. 


in  1833,  iind  ho  luid  entered  Parliument  for  his  family  borougli, 
I  think  he  must  by  this  time  have  been  a  minister.  Such  te- 
nacity of  j)urpose  could  scarcely  fail.  But  he  has  had  to  say 
and  do  so  many  odd  things,  first  to  get  into  Parliament,  and 
secondly  to  keep  there,  that  his  future  now  is  not  so  clear. 
When  I  first  knew  him,  ho  was  a  Benthamite  ;  at  present,  I 
sometimes  seem  to  foresee  that  he  will  end  by  being  the  leader 
of  the  Protectionists  and  the  Protestants." 


''And  a 


good 


strong  party  too,"  said  Trcnchard,   ''but 


query  whether  strong  enough  ?  " 

"That  is  exactly  what  Bertie  Tremainc  is  trying  to  find 
out." 

Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine's  manner  in  receiving  his  guests  was 
courtly  and  ceremonious ;  a  contrast  to  the  free  and  easy  style 
of  the  time.  But  it  was  adopted  after  due  reflection.  "No 
man  can  tell  what  will  be  the  position  he  may  be  called  upon 
to  fill.  But  he  has  a  right  to  assume  ho  Avill  always  bo  ascend- 
ing. I,  for  example,  may  be  destined  to  be  the  president  of  a 
republic,  the  regent  of  a  monarchy,  or  a  sovereign  myself.  It 
would  be  painful  and  disagreeable  to  have  to  change  one's  man- 
ner at  a  perhaps  advanced  period  of  life,  and  become  liable  to 
the  unpopular  imputation  that  you  had  grown  arrogant  and 
overbearing.  On  the  contrary,  in  my  case,  whatever  my  ele- 
vation, there  will  be  no  change.  M}  brother,  Mr.  Tremaine 
Bertie,  acts  on  a  different  principle.  He  is  a  Sybarite,  and  has 
a  general  contempt  for  mankind,  certainly  for  the  mob  and  tlio 
middle  class,  but  he  is  '  Hail  fellow,  well  mot ! '  with  them  all. 
He  says  it  answers  at  elections  ;  I  doubt  it.  I  myself  represent 
a  popular  constituency,  but  I  believe  I  owe  my  success  in  no 
slight  measure  to  the  manner  in  which  I  gave  my  hand  when  I 
permitted  it  to  be  touched.  As  I  say  sometimes  to  Mr.  Tre- 
mainc Bertie,  'You  will  find  this  habit  of  social  familiarity 
embarrassing  when  I  send  you  to  St.  Petersburg  or  Vienna.'" 

"Waldershare  dined  there,  now  a  peer,  though,  as  he  rejoiced 
to  say,  not  a  peer  of  Parliament.  An  Irish  peer,  with  an  Eng- 
lish constituency,  filled,  according  to  Waldershare,  the  most 
enviable  of  positions.  His  rank  gave  him  social  influence,  and 
his  seat  in  the  House  of  Commons  that  power  which  all  aspire 


!  . 
■Ill  1 


i; 


THE  COMMON  RUMOR. 


423 


to  obtain.  The  cynosure  of  the  banquet,  liowcvcr,  was  a  ■^i.nx- 
tleman  wlio  had,  about  a  year  before,  been  tlic  president  oi  a 
republic  for  nearly  six  weeks,  and  who  being  master  of  a  species 
of  rhapsodical  rhetoric,  highly  useful  in  troubled  times,  when 
there  is  no  real  business  to  transact,  and  where  there  is  nobody 
to  transact  it,  had  disajipeared  when  the  treasury  was  quite 
empty,  and  there  were  no  further  funds  to  reward  the  enthusi- 
astic citizens  who  had  hitherto  patriotically  maintained  order 
at  wages  about  double  in  amount  to  what  they  had  previously 
received  in  their  handicrafts.  This  great  reputation  had  been 
brought  over  by  Mr.  Tremaine  Bertie,  now  introducing  him 
into  English  political  society.  Mr.  Tremaine  Bertie  hung  upon 
the  accents  of  the  oracle,  every  word  of  which  was  intended  to 
be  picturesque  or  profound,  and  then  surveyed  his  friends  with 
a  glance  of  appreciating  wonder.  Sensible  Englishmen,  like 
Endymion  and  Trenchard,  looked  upon  the  whole  exhibition 
as  fustian,  and  received  the  revelations  with  a  smile  of  frigid 
courtesy. 

The  presence,  however,  of  this  celebrity  of  six  weeks  gave 
occasionally  a  tone  of  foreign  politics  to  the  conversation,  and 
the  dissociation  of  ideas,  which,  in  due  course,  rules  all  talk, 
brought  them,  among  other  incidents  and  instances,  to  the 
remarkable  career  of  King  Florestan. 

''And  yet  he  has  his  mortifications,"  said  a  sensible  man. 
''  He  wants  a  wife,  and  the  princesses  of  the  world  win  not 
furnish  him  Avith  one." 

'*  What  authority  have  you  for  saying  so,"  exclaimed  the 
fiery  Waldershare.      *'  The  princesses  of  the  world  would  be 
great  fools  if  they  refused  such  a  man,  but  I  know  of  no  au- 
thentic instance  of  such  denial." 
"  Well,  it  is  the  common  rumor." 
'•'And,  therefore,  probably  a  common  falsehood." 
"Were  he  wise,"  said  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine,  '•'  King  Flores- 
tan would  not  marry.      Dynasties  are  unpopular  ;  especially 
new  ones.     The  present  age  is  monarchical,  but  not  dynastic. 
The  king,  who  is  a  man  of  reach,  and  who  has  been  pondering 
such  circumstances  all  his  life,  is  probably  well  aware  of  this, 
and  will  not  be  such  a  fool  as  to  marry." 


I 


;;   } 


ill 


!'■ 


f*^ 


I 


-til 


iri.:i 


424 


EXDYAIIOX. 


"  IIow  is  tlie  monarcliy  to  go  on,  if  there  is  to  be  no  suc- 
cessor?"' inquired  Trcncluird.  *' Y'ou  would  nut  reueu'  ilie 
Polisli  constitution  ?" 

'*  Tiic  Polisli  constitution,  by  the  bye,  was  not  so  bud  a 
thing,"  said  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine.  "Under  it  a  distinguished 
Englishman  might  have  mixed  with  the  crowned  heads  of  Eu- 
rope, as  Sir  Philip  Sidney  nearly  did.  But  I  was  looking  to 
something  superior  to  the  Polish  constitution,  or  perhaps  any 
other  ;  I  was  cont.emi)lating  a  monarchy  with  the  i)rinciplc  of 
adoption.  That  would  give  you  all  the  excellence  of  the  Polish 
constitution,  and  the  order  and  constancy  in  which  it  failed. 
It  would  realize  the  Avant  of  the  age ;  monarchical,  not  dynas- 
tical,  institutions,  and  it  would  act  indei>cu(lent  of  the  jiassions 
and  intrigues  of  the  multitude.  The  })riiiciple  of  adoption  was 
the  secret  of  the  strength  and  endurance  of  Iionie.  It  gave 
Ivomc  alike  the  Scipio.  and  the  Antonines." 

"A  court  would  be  rather  dull  without  a  woman  at  its  head. " 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine.  "  It  was 
Louis  Quatorzc  who  made  the  court ;  not  his  queen." 

'MVell,"  said  AValdershare,  ''all  the  same,  I  fear  King 
riorcstan  Tvill  adopt  no  one  in  this  room,  though  he  has  several 
friends  hero,  and  I  am  one  ;  and  I  believe  that  ho  will  marry, 
and  I  can  not  help  fancying  the  partner  of  his  throne  will  not 
be  as  insignificant  as  Louis  the  Fourtoeiith's  Avifc,  or  Catherine 
of  Braganza." 

Jawett  dined  this  day  with  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine.  He  was 
a  frequent  guest  there,  and  still  was  the  editor  of  the  "  Pre- 
cursor," though  it  sometimes  baffled  all  that  lucidity  of  style 
for  which  lie  was  celebrated  to  reconcile  the  conduct  of  the 
party,  of  which  the  '*  Precursor  "  was  alike  the  oracle  and  or- 
gan, with  the  opinions  with  wliicli  that  now  well-established 
journal  first  attempted  to  direct  and  illuminate  the  public 
mind.  It  seemed  to  the  editor  that  the  "  Precursor  "  dwelt 
more  on  the  past  than  became  a  harbinger  of  the  future.  Not 
that  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine  ever  for  a  moment  admitted  that 
there  was  any  difficulty  in  any  case.  He  never  permitted  any 
dogmas  that  he  had  ever  enunciated  to  be  surrendered,  however 
contrary  at  their  first  aspect. 


PA RLI AMENTA R  V  LIFE. 


425 


"All  aro  but  parts  of  one  stupcutloua  whole," 

and  few  things  were  more  interesting  tlum  tlio  conferencos  in 
wliicli  Mr.  Bertie  Trcmaino  hud  to  im[):irt  his  views  and  in- 
structions to  the  master  of  tliat  hieid  style,  which  liad  the 
merit  of  making  everything  so  very  clear  when  the  master 
liimself  was,  as  at  present,  extremely  i)crplexed  and  confused. 
Jawett  lingered  after  the  other  guests,  that  he  might  liavo  the 
advantage  of  consulting  the  great  leader  on  the  course  which 
he  ought  to  take  in  advocating  a  measure  which  seemed  com- 
pletely at  variance  with  all  the  princii)lcs  they  had  ever  upheld. 

"  I  do  not  see  your  dilliculty,"  wound  up  the  host.  ''  Your 
case  is  clear.  You  have  a  principle  which  will  carry  you 
through  everything.  That  is  the  charm  of  a  principle.  Y''ou 
have  always  an  answer  ready." 

"  But  in  this  case,"  somewhat  timidly  inquired  Mr.  Jawett, 
"  what  would  be  the  principle  on  Avhicli  I  should  rest  ?" 

*'  You  must  show,"  said  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine,  **  that  de- 
mocracy is  aristocracy  in  disguise  ;  and  that  aristocracy  is  de- 
mocracy in  disguise.     It  will  carry  you  through  everything." 

Even  Jawett  looked  a  little  amazed. 

*'  But — "  he  was  beginning,  when  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine 
arose.  **  Think  of  wdiat  I  have  said,  and  if  on  retlcction  any 
doubt  or  difhculty  remain  in  your  mind,  call  on  me  to-morrow 
before  I  go  to  the  House.  At  i)resent,  I  must  pay  my  respects 
to  Lady  Beaumaris.  She  is  the  only  woman  the  Tories  can 
boast  of ;  but  she  is  a  first-rato  woman,  and  is  a  power  which  I 
must  secure." 


'  ■  - 


'■  ; 


CHAPTER  XCII. 

A  MOXTH  had  nearly  elapsed  since  the  Mont  fort  ball ;  the 
season  was  over  and  the  session  was  nearly  finisheth  The  pres- 
sure of  parliamentary  life  for  those  in  ofiflce  is  extreme  during 
this  last  ni'jnth,  yet  Endymion  would  have  contrived,  were  it 
only  for  a  day,  to  have  visited  his  sister,  had  Lady  Rochamp- 
ton  much  encouraged  his  appearance.     Strange  as  it  seemed 


426 


EX  I)  YMION. 


to  him,  she  did  iwi,  but  on  the  contrary,  alway.s  as^-unied  tluit 
the  i)rorogation  of  Parhument  wouhl  alone  bring  them  togeth- 
er again.  When  he  pro^^o.sed  on  one  occa?>ion  to  come  down 
for  four-and-twenty  hours,  «he  absolutely,  though  with  much 
affection,  adjourned  the  fullillmcnt  of  tlic  olTer.  It  seemed  that 
blie  was  not  yet  quite  settled. 

Lady  Montfort  lingered  in  London  even  after  Goodwood. 
She  was  rather  embarrassed,  as  she  told  Endymion,  about  her 
future  plans.  Lord  Montfort  Avas  at  Princedown,  where  she 
wished  to  join  him,  but  he  did  not  respond  to  her  wishes  ;  on 
the  contrary,  while  announcing  that  he  was  indisposed,  and 
meant  to  remain  at  Princedown  for  the  summer,  he  suggested 
that  she  should  avail  herself  of  the  oi)portunity,  and  pay  a  long 
visit  to  her  family  in  the  north.  ''I  know  what  he  means," 
she  observed  ;  "  he  wants  the  world  to  believe  that  wc  are  sep- 
arated, lie  can  not  repudiate  me — he  is  too  great  a  gentle  -an 
to  do  anything  coarsely  unjust  ;  but  he  thinks,  by  tact  a  >- 
direct  means,  he  may  attain  our  virtual  separation,  lie  nas 
had  this  purpose  for  years,  I  believe  now  ever  since  our  mar- 
riage, but  hitherto  I  have  baffled  him.  I  ought  to  be  with 
him  ;  I  really  believe  he  is  indisposed,  his  face  has  become  so 
pale  of  late ;  but  were  I  to  persist  in  going  to  Princedown  I 
should  only  drive  him  away.  He  would  go  oif  in  the  night 
without  leaving  his  address,  and  something  would  happen — 
dreadful  or  absurd.  What  I  had  best  do,  I  think,  is  this.  You 
are  going  at  last  to  pay  your  visit  to  your  sister  ;  I  will  write 
to  my  lord  and  tell  him  that  as  he  docs  not  wish  me  to  go  to 
Princedown,  I  propose  to  go  to  Montfort  Castle.  When  the 
flag  is  flying  at  Montfort,  I  can  pay  a  visit  of  any  length  to  my 
family.  It  will  only  be  a  neighboring  visit  from  Montfort  to 
them  ;  perhaps,  too,  they  might  return  it.  At  any  rate,  then 
they  can  not  say  my  lord  and  I  are  separatee!.  We  need  not 
live  under  the  same  roof,  but  so  long  as  I  live  under  his  roof 
the  world  considers  us  united.  It  is  a  pity  to  have  to  scheme 
in  this  manner,  and  rather  degrading,  particularly  when  one 
might  be  so  happy  with  him.  But  you  know,  my  dear  En- 
dymion, all  about  our  affairs.  Your  friend  is  not  a  very  happy 
woman,  and  if  not  a  very  unhappy  one,  it  is  owing  much  to 


A    SHORT   VISIT. 


4^ 


your  dear  friciulsliip,  and  a  little  to  niyr.wii  s})irit  which  ko('i)s 
inc  up  under  what  is  frequent  and  t^ometinies  bitter  niortiliea- 
tion.  And  now  adieu  !  I  suppose  you  can  not  he  away  le.-s 
than  a  week.  Proljablv  on  your  return  you  will  find  nie  here. 
I  can  not  go  to  Montfort  without  his  permission.  But  he  will 
give  it.  I  ohserye  that  he  will  always  do  anything  to  gain  his 
immediate  object.  His  immediate  ol)ject  is,  that  I  shall  not  go 
to  Princedown,  and  so  he  will  agree  that  I  shall  go  to  Montfort." 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  Endymion  felt  some  constraint 
in  the  presence  of  Myra.  There  Avas  something  elianged  in  her 
manner.  No  diminution  of  allVetion,  for  she  threw  her  arms 
around  him  and  pressed  him  to  her  heart ;  and  then  she  looked 
at  him  anxiously,  eyen  sadly,  and  kissed  both  his  eyes,  and 
then  she  remained  for  some  moments  in  silence  with  her  face 
hid  on  his  shoulder.  Neyer  since  the  loss  of  Lord  liochamp- 
ton  had  she  seemed  so  subdued. 

**  It  is  a  long  separation,"  she  at  length  said,  with  a  voice 
and  smile  equally  faint,  ''and  you  must  be  a  little  wearied 
with  your  traveling.  Come  and  refresh  yourself,  and  then  I 
will  show  you  my  boudoir  I  have  made  here  ;  rather  pretty, 
out  of  nothing.  And  then  we  will  sit  down  and  have  a  long 
talk  together,  for  I  have  much  to  tell  you,  and  I  want  your 
advice. " 

'"She  is  going  to  marry  Sidney  Wilton,"  thought  Endym- 
ion ;  ''that  is  clear." 

The  boudoir  was  really  pretty,  '"'made  out  of  nothing  ;"  a 
gay  chintz,  some  shelves  of  beautiful  books,  some  fanciful 
chairs,  and  a  portrait  of  Lord  Roehampton. 

It  was  a  long  interview,  very  long,  and  if  one  could  judge 
by  the  countenance  of  Endymion,  when  ho  quitted  the  boudoir 
and  hastened  to  his  room,  of  grave  import.  Sometimes  his 
face  Avas  pale,  sometimes  scarlet  ;  the  changes  were  rapid,  but 
the  expression  was  agitated  rather  than  one  of  gratification. 

He  sent  instantly  for  his  servant,  and  then  penned  this 
telegram  to  Lady  Montfort :  "  My  visit  here  will  be  short.  I 
am  to  see  you  immediately.  Xothing  must  prevent  your  being 
at  home  when  I  call  to-morrow,  about  four  o'clock.  Most, 
most  important." 


ii  » 


¥  r 

428 


EXDYMIOK 


CIIArTER  XCIII. 


Ii  '■ 


tl 


Ii 


J;-t 


W'A 


"  "Well,  sonictliing  has  Imppcncd  at  last,"  said  Lady  Mont- 
fort  witli  a  Avondcriug  coiiptcnance  ;  "it  is  too  marvelous  !  *' 

"She  goes  to  Osborne  to-day," continued  Endymion,  '*and 
I  suppose  after  tiiat,  in  due  course,  it  Avill  be  generally  known. 
I  should  think  the  formal  announcement  would  be  made  abroad. 
It  has  been  kci)t  wonderfully  close.  81ie  wished  you  to  know 
it  first,  at  least  from  her.  I  do  not  think  she  ever  hesitated 
about  accepting  liim.  There  was  delay  from  varic  s  causes  ; 
whether  there  should  bo  a  marriage  by  proxy  first  in  this  coun- 
try, and  other  i)oints  ;  about  religion  for  example." 
"  "Vv'eil?" 

''  She  enters  the  Catholic  Church,  the  Archbisho})  of  Tyre 
lias  received  her.  There  is  no  diiHculty  and  no  great  cere- 
monies in  such  matters.  She  was  rebaptized,  but  only  by  way 
of  precaution.  It  was  not  necessary,  foi  our  orders,  you  know, 
are  recognized  by  Rome." 

"' And  that  was  all  !  " 

*'A11,  with  a  first  communion  and  confession.  It  is  all 
consummated  now;  as  you  say,  'It  is  too  wonderful.'  A 
first  confession,  and  to  Kigcl  Penruddock,  Avho  says  life  is  Hat 
and  insipid  ! " 

"  I  shall  write  to  her  :  I  must  write  to  her.  I  Avonder  if  I 
shall  sec  her  before  she  departs." 

"That  is  cert:ihi  if  a'ou  Avish  it ;  she  Avishes  it." 

"And  Avhen  does  she  go  ?     And  who  goes  Avith  her  ? " 

"  She  Avill  bo  under  my  charge,"  said  Endymion.  "It  is 
fortunate  that  it  should  happen  at  a  time  Avlien  I  am  free.  I 
am  ]iersonally  to  deliA'cr  her  to  the  king.  The  Duke  of  St. 
Angelo,  Baron  Scrgius,  and  tlic  archbishop  accompany  her, 
and  AValdersharo,  at  the  particular  recpiest  of  his  majesty." 

"And  no  lady?" 

"She  takes  Adriana  Avitli  her." 

"  Adriana !"  repeated  Lady  Montfort,  and  a  cloud  passed 
over  her  broAv.  There  was  a  momentary  pause,  and  then  Lady 
IMontfort  said,  "  I  Avisli  she  Avould  take  me." 


A   GREAT  CHANGE. 


421> 


'■Tliut  would  be  delightful,"  said  Endymion,  "and  mosc 
becoming — to  have  for  a  companion  the  greatest  lady  of  our 
court." 

''  She  Avill  not  take  me  with  her,"  said  Lady  Montfort, 
sorrowfully  but  decisively,  and  shaking  her  head.  ''  Dear 
woman  !  I  loved  her  alway.^,  often  most  when  I  seemed  least 
alTectionate — but  there  was  between  us  something — "  and  she 
hesitated.  "  Ileigho  !  I  may  be  the  greatest  lady  of  our  court, 
but  I  am  a  very  unhappy  woman,  Endymion,  tind  what  annoys 
and  dispirits  me  most,  sometimes  quite  breaks  me  down,  is 
that  I  can  not  see  that  1  deserve  my  lot." 

It  happened  as  Endymion  foresaw  ;  the  first  announcement 
came  from  abroad.  King  Florcstan  suddenly  sent  a  message 
to  his  Parliament,  that  his  majesty  was  about  to  present  them 
with  a  queen.  She  was  not  the  daughter  of  a  reigning  house, 
but  she  came  from  the  land  of  freedom  and  political  wisdom, 
and  from  the  purest  and  inost  powerful  court  in  Europe.  His 
subjects  soon  learned  that  she  was  tire  most  beautiful  of  women, 
for  the  portrait  of  the  Countess  of  Roehampton,  as  it  were  by 
magic,  seemed  suddenly  to  fill  every  window  in  every  shop  in 
the  teeming  and  brilliant  capital  where  she  was  about  to  reign. 

It  was  convenient  that  these  great  events  should  occur 
when  everybody  was  out  of  town.  Lad}  Montfort  alone  re- 
mained, the  frequent,  if  not  constant,  companion  of  the  new 
Berengaria  soon  recovered  her  high  si)irits.    There- 


sovereign. 


Avas  much  to  do  and  prepare  in  which  her  hints  and  advice- 
were  invaluable.  Though  she  was  not  to  have  the  honor  of 
attending  Myra  to  her  new  home,  which,  considering  her  high 
l)lace  in  the  English  court,  was  perhaps  hardly  consistent  with 
etiquette,  for  so  she  now  cleverly  put  it,  she  was  to  pay  her 
majesty  a  visit  in  duo  time.  The  momentary  despondency 
that  had  clouded  her  brilliant  countenance  had  not  only  dis- 
appeared, but  she  had  quite  forgotten,  and  certainly  would  not 
admit,  that  she  was  anything  but  the  most  sanguine  and  ener- 
getic of  beings,  and  rallied  Endymion  unmercifully  for  his 
careworn  countenance  and  too  frequent  air  of  depression.  Tlio 
truth  is,  the  great  change  that  was  impending  was  one  which 
might  well  make  him  serious,  and  sometimes  sad. 


I 


*       ;l 


1 ' 

'  '1 

■1 '  1 

i 

i| 

ij'l 

1^ 

ii " 

II 

si           .    Ili 

11''^ 

(;;■ 

130 


ENDYMIOK 


The  witlidrawal  of  a  female  influence,  so  potent  on  his  life 
as  that  of  his  sister,  was  itself  a  great  event.  There  had  been 
between  them  from  the  cradle,  which^  it  may  be  said,  they  had 
shared,  a  strong  and  perfect  sympathy.  They  had  experienced 
together  vast  and  strange  vicissitudes  of  life.  Though  much 
separated  in  his  early  youth,  there  had  still  been  a  constant 
interchange  of  thought  and  feeling  between  them.  For  the 
last  twelve  years  or  so,  ever  since  M3'ra  had  become  acquainted 
with  the  Neuchatcl  family,  they  may  bo  said  never  to  have 
separated — at  least  they  had  maintained  a  constant  communi- 
cation, and  generally  a  personal  one.  She  had  in  a  great  de- 
gree molded  his  life.  Her  unfaltering,  though  often  unseen, 
influence  had  created  his  advancement.  Her  Avill  was  more 
powerful  than  his.  He  was  more  prudent  and  plastic.  He 
felt  this  keenly.  Ho  was  conscious,  tliat  left  to  himself,  he 
would  probably  have  achieved  much  less.  He  remembered  her 
words  when  they  parted  for  the  first  time  at  Hurstley,  "  Wo- 
men will  be  your  best  friends  in  l:fe."  And  that  brought  his 
thoughts  to  the  only  subject  on  which  they  had  ever  dilTered — 
lier  Avished-for  union  between  himself  and  Adriana.  He  felt 
he  had  crossed  her  there — that  he  had  jirevented  the  fulfill- 
ment of  her  deeply  matured  plans.  Perhaps,  had  that  mar- 
riage taken  i)]ace,  she  would  never  have  quitted  England.  Per- 
haps ;  but  was  that  desirable  ?  Was  it  not  fitter  that  so  lofty 
a  spirit  should  find  a  seat  as  exalted  as  her  capacity  ?  Myra 
was  a  sovereign  !  In  this  age  of  strange  events,  not  the  least 
strange.  No  petty  cares  and  griefs  must  obtrude  themselves 
in  such  majestic  associations.  And  yet  the  days  at  Hainault 
were  very  happy,  and  the  bright  visits  to  Gaydene,  and  her 
own  pleasant  though  stately  home.  His  heart  was  agitated, 
and  his  eyes  were  often  moistened  with  emotion.  He  seemed 
to  think  that  all  the  thrones  of  Christendom  could  be  no  com- 
pensation for  the  loss  of  this  beloved  genius  of  his  life,  whom 
he  might  never  see  again.  Sometimes,  when  he  paid  his  daily 
visit  to  Berengaria,  she  wlio  knew  him  by  heart,  who  studied 
every  expression  of  liis  countenance  and  every  tone  of  his  voice, 
would  say  to  him,  after  a  few  minutes  of  desultory  and  feeble 
conversation,  "You  are  thinking  of  your  sister,  Endymion  ?" 


LADY  MONTFORrS  FRIENDSHIP. 


431 


?" 


lie  did  not  reply,  but  gave  a  sort  of  faint,  mournful  smile. 

''This  separation  is  a  trial,  a  severe  one,  and  I  knew  you 
would  feel  it,"  said  Lady  Montfort.  '*  I  feel  it ;  I  loved  your 
sister,  but  she  did  not  love  me.  Nobody  that  I  love  ever  docs 
love  me." 

''Oh  !  do  not  say  that.  Lady  Montfort." 

"  It  is  what  I  feel.  I  can  not  console  you.  There  is  no- 
thing I  can  do  for  you.  My  friendship,  if  you  value  it,  wliich 
I  will  not  doubt  you  do,  you  fully  possessed  before  your  sister 
was  a  queen.     So  that  goes  for  nothing." 

"I  must  say,  I  feel  sometimes  most  miserable." 

"  Nonsense,  Endymion  ;  if  anything  could  annoy  your  sis- 
ter more  than  another,  it  would  be  to  hear  of  such  feelings 
on  your  part.  I  must  say  she  has  courage.  She  has  found  her 
fitting  place.  Her  brother  ought  to  do  the  same.  You  have 
a  great  object  in  life,  at  least  you  had,  but  I  have  no  faith  in 
sentimentalists.  If  I  had  been  sentimental,  I  should  have  gone 
into  a  convent  long  ago." 

"If  to  feel  is  to  be  sentimental,  I  can  not  help  it." 

"  All  feeling  which  has  no  object  to  attain  is  morbid  and 
maudlin,"  said  Lady  Montfort.  "You  say  you  are  very  miser- 
able, and  at  the  same  time  you  d<i  not  know  what  you  want. 
Would  you  have  your  sister  dethroned  ?  And  if  you  would, 
could  you  accomplish  your  purpose  ?  Well,  then,  what  non- 
sense to  think  about  her  except  to  feel  proud  of  her  elevation, 
and  prouder  still  that  she  is  equal  to  it." 

"  You  always  have  the  best  of  every  argument,"  said  En- 
dymion. 

"Of  course,"  said  Lady  Montfort.  "What  I  want  you  to 
do  is  to  exert  yourself.  You  have  now  a  strong  social  position, 
for  Sidney  Wilton  tells  me  the  queen  has  relinquished  to  you 
her  mansion  and  the  whole  of  her  income,  which  is  no  mean 
one.  You  must  collect  your  friends  about  you.  Our  govern- 
ment is  not  too  strong,  I  can  tell  you.  We  must  brush  up  in 
the  recess.  What  with  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine  and  his  friends 
joining  the  Protectionists,  and  the  ultra-Radicals  wanting,  as 
they  always  do,  something  impossible,  I  see  seeds  of  discom- 
fiture unless  they  are  met  with  energy.     You  stand  high,  and 


Ji 


432 


ENDYMIOK 


"'%■     :«  I 


are  well  spoken  of  even  by  our  opponent-^.  Whether  we  stand 
or  fall,  it  is  a  moment  for  you  to  increase  your  personal  in- 
fluence. That  it,  the  element  now  to  encourage  in  your  career, 
because  you  ar^  not  like  the  old  fogies  in  the  cabinet,  who,  if 
they  go  out.  will  never  enter  another  again.  You  have  a  fu- 
ture, and  tliough  you  may  not  be  an  emperor,  you  may  be  what 
I  esteem  more,  prime  minister  of  this  country." 

"You  are  always  so  sanguine." 

**Not  more  sanguine  than  your  sister.  Often  we  liave 
talked  of  this.  I  wish  she  Avere  here  to  help  us,  but  I  will  do 
my  part.     At  present  let  us  go  to  luncheon. " 


w 


si 


1: 

y 


CHAPTER  XCIV. 

There  was  a  splendid  royal  yacht,  though  not  one  belong- 
ing to  our  gracious  sovereign,  lying  in  one  of  Her  Majesty's 
southern  ports,  and  the  yacht  was  convoyed  by  a  smart  frigate. 
The  crews  were  much  ashore,  and  were  very  popular,  tor  they 
spent  a  great  deal  of  money.  Everybody  knew  what  was  the 
purpose  of  their  bright  craft,  and  every  one  was  interested  in 
it.  A  beautiful  Englislnvoman  had  been  selected  to  fill  a  for- 
eign and  brilliant  throne  occui)ied  by  a  prince,  who  had  been 
educated  in  our  own  country,  who  ever  avowed  his  sympathies 
with  **  the  inviolate  island  of  the  sage  and  free."  So  in  fact 
there  was  some  basis  for  the  enthusiasm  which  was  felt  on  this 
occasion  by  the  inhabitants  of  Nethampton.  AVhat  every  one 
wanted  to  know  was  when  she  would  sail.  Ah  !  that  was  a 
secret,  still  a  secret  that  could  hardly  be  kept  for  the  eight- 
and-forty  hours  preceding  her  departure,  and,  therefore,  one 
day,  with  no  formal  notice,  all  the  inhabitants  of  Nethampton 
were  in  gala  ;  streets  and  ships  dressed  out  with  the  flags  of 
all  nations  ;  the  church  bells  ringing  ;  and  busy  little  girls  run- 
ning about  with  huge  bouquets. 

At  the  very  instant  expected,  the  special  train  was  signaled, 
and  drove  into  the  crimson  station  amid  the  thunder  of  artil- 
lery, the  blare  of  trumpets,  the  beating  of  drums,  and  cheers 


A  PLEASAXT   VOYAGE. 


433 


wc  stand 
sonal  iii- 
ir  career, 
:,  wlio,  if 
ive  a  fu- 
f  be  Avhat 


we  have 
I  will  do 


e  belong- 
Majesty's 
t  frigate, 
for  they 
was  the 
rested  in 
fill  a  for- 
had  been 
mpathies 
lo  in  fact 
t  on  this 
very  one 
at  was  a 
le  eight- 
fore,  one 
lampton 
flags  of 
jirlsrun- 

iignaled, 
of  artil- 
li  cheers 


from  thousands  even  louder  and  longer  than  the  voices  of  tlie 
cannon.  Leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  brother,  and  attended  by 
the  Princess  of  Montserrat  and  the  Honorable  Adriana  Kou- 
chatel,  Baron  Sergius,  the  Duke  of  St.  Angelo,  the  Archbishop 
of  Tyre,  and  Lord  Waldershare,  the  daughter  of  William  Fer- 
rars,  gracious,  yet  looking  as  if  she  were  born  to  empire,  re- 
ceived the  congratulatory  address  of  the  mayor  and  corporation 
and  citizens  of  Nethamptou,  and  permitted  her  hand  to  bo 
kissed,  not  only  by  his  worship,  but  by  at  least  two  aldermen. 

They  were  on  the  waters,  and  the  shores  of  Albion,  fust 
fading  away,  had  diminished  to  a  speck.  It  is  a  melancholy 
and  tender  moment,  and  Myra  was  in  her  ample  and  splendid 
cabin  and  alone.  "It  is  a  trial,"  she  felt,  "but  all  that  I  love 
and  value  in  this  world  are  in  this  vessel,"  and  she  thought  of 
Endymion  and  Adriana.  Tlie  gentlemen  were  on  deck,  chiefly 
smoking  or  rcconnoitering  their  convoy  through  their  tele- 
scopes. 

"I  must  say,"  said  "Waldershare,  "it  was  a  grand  idea  of 
our  kings  making  themselves  sovereigns  o£  the  sea.  The 
greater  portion  of  this  planet  is  water  ;  so  we  at  once  became  a 
first-rate  power.  We  oavc  our  navy  entirely  to  tlio  Stuarts. 
King  James  the  Second  was  the  true  founder  and  hero  of  tho 
British  navy.  He  was  the  worthy  son  of  his  admirable  father, 
that  blessed  martyr,  the  restorer  at  least,  if  not  the  inventor, 
of  ship  money ;  the  most  patriotic  and  popular  tax  that  ever 
was  devised  by  man.  The  Xonconformists  thought  themselves 
so  wise  in  resisting  it,  and  they  have  got  the  naval  estimates 
instead  ! " 

The  voyage  was  propitious,  the  weather  delightful,  and 
Avhen  they  had  entered  the  southern  waters,  Waldershare  con- 
fessed that  lie  felt  the  deliciousness  of  life.  If  the  scene  and 
the  impending  events,  and  their  own  fair  thoughts  had  not 
been  adequate  to  interest  them,  there  were  ample  resources  at 
their  command ;  all  the  ladies  were  skilled  musicians,  the'.r 
concerts  commenced  at  sunset,  and  the  sweetness  of  their  voices 
long  lingered  over  the  moonlit  waters. 

Adriana,  one  evening,  bending  over  the  bulwarks  of  the 
yacht,  was  watching  the  track  of  phosphoric  light,  struck  into 
19 


ii' 


I    * 

SI 


l» 


434 


EXDYMIOX. 


!  ( 


brilliancy  from  the  diirk-bluc  waters  by  the  ]orow  of  their  rapid 
vessel.  *'It  is  a  fascinating  sight.  Miss  Neiiclia^;el,  and  it 
seems  one  might  gaze  on  it  for  ever." 

"Ah  !  Lord  Waldcrshare,  yon  caught  me  in  a  reverie." 

"What  more  sweet  ?" 

"Well,  that  depends  on  its  subject.  To  tell  the  trutli,  I 
was  thinking  that  these  lights  resembled  a  little  your  conversa- 
tion ;  all  the  wordrous  things  you  are  alwaj's  saying  or  telling 


us. 


5> 


The  archbishop  was  a  man  who  never  rccu  ..^.d  to  the  past. 
One  never  could  suppose  that  Endymion  and  himself  had  been 
companions  in  their  early  youth,  or,  so  far  as  their  intercourse 
was  concerned,  that  there  was  such  a  place  in  the  world  as 
Hurstley.  One  night,  however,  as  they  were  pacing  the  deck 
together,  he  took  the  arm  of  Endymion,  and  said,  "  I  trace  the 
hand  of  Providence  in  every  incident  of  your  sister's  life. 
What  we  deemed  misfortunes,  sorroAvs,  even  calamities,  were 
forming  a  character  originally  endowed  with  supreme  will,  and 
destined  for  the  highest  jmrposcs.  There  was  a  moment  at 
Hurstley  when  I  myself  was  crushed  to  the  earth,  and  cared 
not  to  live  ;  vain,  short-sighted  mortal !  Our  Great  Master 
was  at  that  moment  shaping  everything  to  his  ends,  and  pre- 
paring for  the  entrance  into  his  Church  of  a  woman  who  may 
be,  who  will  be,  I  believe,  another  St.  Helena." 

"We  have  not  spoken  of  this  subject  before,"  said  Endym- 
ion, "  and  I  should  not  have  cared  had  our  silence  continued, 
but  T  must  now  tell  you  frankl}^,  the  secession  of  my  sister 
from  the  church  of  her  fathers  was  to  me  by  no  means  a  mat- 
ter of  unmixed  satisfaction." 

"  The  time  will  come  when  you  will  recognize  it  as  the  con- 
summation of  a  Divine  plan,"  said  the  archbishop. 

"I  feel  great  confidence  that  my  sister  will  never  be  the 
slave  of  superstition,"  said  Endymion.  "'  Her  mind  is  too  mas- 
culine for  that ;  she  will  remember  that  the  throne  she  fills  has 
been  already  once  lost  by  the  fatal  influence  of  the  Jesuits." 

"The  influence  of  the  Jesuits  is  the  influence  of  Divine 
truth,"  said  his  companion.  "And  how  is  it  possible  for  such 
influence  not  to  prevail  ?    What  you  treat  as  defeats,  discom- 


REJOICINGS. 


435 


fitures,  are  events  which  yon  do  not  comprehend.  They  arc 
incidents  all  leading  to  one  great  end  —  tlic  trinmph  of  the 
Church — that  is,  the  triumph  of  God." 

''  I  will  not  decide  what  are  great  ends  ;  I  am  content  to  as- 
certain what  is  wise  conduct.  And  it  would  not  be  wise  conduct, 
in  my  opinion,  for  the  king  to  rest  upon  the  Jesuits." 

"  Tlie  Jesuits  never  fell  except  from  conspiracy  against 
them.  It  is  never  the  public  voice  tliat  demands  their  expul- 
sion or  the  public  effort  that  accomplislics  it.  It  is  always  the 
affair  of  sovereigns  and  statesmen,  of  politicians,  of  men,  in 
short,  who  feel  that  there  is  a  power  at  work,  and  tliat  jiower 
one  not  favorable  to  their  schemes  or  objects  of  government." 

"  Well,  we  shall  see,"  said  Endymion  ;  "  I  candidly  tell  you, 
I  liope  the  Jesuits  will  have  as  little  influence  in  my  brother-in- 
law's  kingdom  as  in  my  own  country." 

*'As  little,"  said  Nigel,  somewhat  sarcastically,  ''I  should 
be  almost  content  if  the  holy  order  in  every  country  had  as 
much  influence  as  they  noAV  have  in  England. " 

*'  I  think  your  grace  exaggerates." 

"  Before  two  years  are  past,"  said  the  !ti'chbishop,  speaking 
very  slowly,  *'  I  foresee  that  the  Jesuits  v  ill  be  privileged  in 
England,  and  the  hierarchy  of  our  Church  recognized." 

It  was  a  delicious  afternoon;  it  had  Icen  sultry,  but  the 
sun  had  now  greatly  declined,  when  tlio  captain  of  the  yacht 
came  down  to  announce  to  the  queen  that  they  were  in  sight 
of  her  new  country,  and  she  hastened  on  deck  to  behold  the 
rapidly  nearing  sh  )re.  A  squadron  of  sliij)s  of  war  had  stood 
out  to  meet  her,  and  in  duo  time  the  towers  and  spires  of  a 
beautiful  city  appeared,  wliich  was  the  port  of  the  capital,  and 
itself  almost  worthy  of  being  one.  A  royal  barge,  propelled 
by  four-and-twenty  rowers,  and  bearing  the  lord  chamberlain, 
awaited  the  queen,  and  the  moment  her  majesty  and  the  Princess 
of  Montserrat  had  taken  their  seats,  salutes  thur.  jred  from 
every  ship  of  war,  responded  to  by  fort  and  battery  ashore. 

When  they  landed,  they  were  conducted  by  chief  officers  of 
the  court  to  a  pavilion  which  faced  the  western  sky,  now  glow- 
ing like  an  opal  with  every  shade  of  the  Iris,  and  then  becom- 
ing of  a  li.^ht  green  color  varied  only  by  some  slight  clouds 


;* 


!; 


M» 


430 


EXDYMIOy. 


Liirnislied  witli  gold.  A  trooj)  of  maidens  ])rought  flowers  as 
Lriglit  as  themselves,  and  then  a  company  of  pages  advanced, 
and  kneeling,  offered  to  the  queen  chocolate  in  a  crystal  cup. 

According  to  the  programme  draAvn  up  by  the  heralds,  and 
every  tittle  of  it  founded  on  precedents,  the  king  and  the  royal 
carriages  Avere  to  have  met  tlie  travelers  on  their  arrival  at  the 
metropolis  ;  but  there  are  feelings  which  heralds  do  not  com- 
prehend, and  which  defy  precedents.  Suddenly  there  was  a 
shout,  a  loud  clieer,  a  louder  salute.  Some  one  had  arrived 
unexpectedly.  A  young  man,  stately  but  pale,  moved  through 
the  swiftly  receding  crowd,  alone  and  unattended,  entered  the 
pavilion,  advanced  to  the  (pieen,  kissed  her  hand,  and  then 
both  her  cheeks,  just  murmuring,  "My  best  beloved,  this,  this 
indeed  is  joy." 

The  capital  was  fortified,  and  the  station  was  Avithout  the 
walls  ;  here  the  royal  carriages  awaited  them.  The  crowd  was 
immense  ;  the  ramparts  on  this  occasion  were  covered  with 
people.  It  was  an  almost  sultr}  it,  with  every  star  visible, 
and  clear  and  warm  and  sweet,  iis  the  royal  carriage  crossed 
the  drawbridge  and  entered  the  chief  gates,  the  whole  city  was 
in  an  instant  suddenly  illuminated — in  a  flash.  The  architec- 
tural lines  of  the  city  walls,  and  of  every  street,  were  indicated, 
and  along  the  ramparts  at  not  distant  intervals  were  tripods, 
each  crowned  with  a  silver  flame,  Aiiicli  cast  around  the  radi- 
ance of  day. 

He  held  and  pressed  her  hand  as  in  silence  she  beheld  the 
wondrous  scene.  They  had  to  make  a  progress  of  some  miles  ; 
the  way  was  kept  throughout  by  soldiery  and  civic  guards, 
while  beyond  them  was  an  inflnite  population,  all  cheering  and 
many  of  them  waving  torches.  They  passed  through  many 
streets,  and  squares  with  marvelous  fountains,  until  they  ar- 
rived at  the  chief  and  royal  street,  which  has  no  equal  in  the 
world.  It  is  more  than  a  mile  long,  never  swerving  from  a 
straight  line,  broad,  yet  the  houses  so  elevated  that  they  gener- 
ally furnished  the  shade  this  ardent  clime  requires.  The  archi- 
tecture of  this  street  is  so  varied  that  it  never  becomes  monoto- 
nous, some  beautiful  church,  or  palace,  or  ministerial  hotel 
perpetually  varying  the  effect.     All  the  windows  were  full  on 


anEA  T  EXT/ir.^lAS.V. 


4.3T 


lowers  as 
Livanced, 
al  cup. 
lids,  and 
the  royal 
'al  at  the 
lot  com- 
re  was  a 

1  arrived 
through 

tered  the 
md  then 
this,  this 

liout  the 
rowd  was 
ired  with 
ir  visible, 
e  crossed 
!  city  was 
architec- 
ndicated, 
5  tripods, 
the  radi- 

Dheld  the 
ne  miles  ; 

2  guards, 
ering  and 
Lgh  many 
L  they  ar- 
nal  in  the 
\g  from  a 
ley  gener- 
rhe  archi- 
s  nionoto- 
srial  hotel 
re  full  on 


tliis  occasion,  and  even  the  roofs  were  crowded.  Every  house 
was  covered  with  tapestry,  and  tlic  hue  of  every  building  was 
marked  out  by  artificial  light.  I'lie  moon  rose,  but  she  was 
not  wanted  ;  it  was  as  light  as  day. 

Tliey  were  considerate  enougli  not  to  move  too  ra])idly 
through  this  heart  of  the  metropolis,  and  even  halted  at  some 
stations,  where  bands  of  music  and  choirs  of  singers  welcomed 
and  celebrated  them.  They  moved  on  more  quickly  afterward, 
made  their  way  through  a  pretty  i^uburl),  and  then  entered  a 
park.  At  tlie  termination  of  a  loiii:,'  nvonue  was  the  illuniinod 
and  beautiful  palace  of  the  Prince  of  .Mont.serrat,  where  ^lyra 
was  to  reside  and  repose  until  the  momentous  morrow,  when 
King  Florestan  was  publicly  to  i)lace  on  the  brow  of  his  affi- 
anced bride  the  crown  which  to  his  Joy  she  had  consented  to 
share. 


CIIAPTEK  XCY. 

There  arc  very  few  temperaments  that  can  reisist  a  uni- 
versal and  unceasing  festival  in  a  vast  and  beautiful  metropolis. 
It  is  inebriating,  and  the  most  wonderful  of  all  its  accidents  is 
how  the  population  can  ever  calm  and  recur  to  the  monotony 
of  ordinary  life.  When  all  this  happens  too  in  a  capital  blessed 
with  purple  skies,  Avhere  the  mooiilight  is  equal  to  our  sun- 
shine, and  where  half  the  population  sleep  in  the  open  air  and 
Avish  for  no  roof  but  the  heavens,  "xistcnce  is  a  dream  of  fan- 
tasy and  perpetual  loveliness,  and  one  is  at  last  forced  to  be- 
lieve that  there  is  some  miraculou  and  supernatural  agency 
that  provides  the  ever-enduring  exci  jment  and  ceaseless  inci- 
dents of  grace  and  beauty. 

After  the  great  ceremony  of  the  morrow  in  the  cathedral, 
and  when  Myra,  kneeling  at  the  nltar  with  her  husband,  re- 
ceived, under  a  canopy  of  silver  brocade,  the  blessings  of  a 
cardinal  and  her  people,  day  followed  day  with  court  balls  and 
municipal  banquets,  state  visits  to  operas,  and  reviews  of  sump- 
tuous troops.  At  length  the  end  of  all  this  pageantry  and 
enthusiasm  approached,  and  amid  a  blaze  of  fireworks,   the 


11 


438 


EN-DYMIOK 


r  i 


it  i:il 


!  ail 


picturesque  population  of  this  fasciniiting  city  tried  to  return 
to  ordinary  feeling  and  to  common  sense. 

If  amid  this  graceful  hubbub  and  this  glittering  riot  any 
one  could  have  found  time  to  remark  the  carriage  and  conduct 
of  an  individual,  one  might  have  observed,  and  perhaps  been 
surjjrised  at,  the  change  in  those  of  Miss  Neuchatel.  That  air 
of  pensive  resignation  wliicli  distinguished  her  seemed  to  liavo 
vanished.  She  never  wore  tliat  doleful  look  for  which  she  was 
too  remarkable  in  Loudon  saloons,  and  which  marred  a  coun- 
tenance favored  by  nature  and  a  form  intended  for  gayety  and 
grace.  Perliajis  it  was  tlie  influence  of  the  climate,  perhaps 
the  excitement  of  tlie  scene,  perhaps  some  rapture  with  the 
wondrous  fortunes  of  tlie  friend  wliom  she  adored,  but  Adriajia 
seemed  suddenly  to  sym})iithizc  w^ith  everybody  and  to  appre- 
ciate everything  ;  her  face  was  radiant,  she  was  in  every  dance, 
and  visited  churches  and  museums,  and  palaces  and  galleries, 
Avitli  keen  delight.  Witli  many  charms,  the  intimate  friend  of 
their  sovereign,  and  liersclf  known  to  be  noble  and  immensely 
rich,  Adriana  became  the  fashion,  and  a  crowd  of  princes  were 
ever  watching  her  smiles,  and  sometimes  offering  her  their 
sighs. 

"  I  think  you  enjoy  our  visit  more  than  any  one  of  us,"  said 
Endymion  to  her  one  day,  with  some  feeling  of  surprise. 

"  Well,  one  can  not  mope  for  ever,"  said  Miss  Neuchatel ; 
*'  I  have  passed  my  life  in  tliinking  of  one  subject,  and  I  feel 
now  it  made  me  very  stupid." 

Endymion  felt  embarrassed,  and  though  generally  ready,  had 
no  repartee  at  command.  Lord  Waldershare,  however,  came  to 
his  relief,  and  claimed  Adriana  for  the  impending  dance. 

Tliis  wondrous  marriage  was  a  grand  subject  for  "  our  own 
correspondents,"  and  they  abounded.  Among  them  were  Jaw- 
ett  and  St.  Barbe.  St.  Barbe  hated  Jawett,  as  indeed  he  did  all 
his  brethren,  but  his  appointment  in  this  instance  he  denounced 
as  an  infamous  job.  "  Merely  to  allow  him  to  travel  in  foreign 
parts,  which  he  has  never  done,  without  a  single  qualification 
for  the  office.  However,  it  will  ruin  his  paper,  that  is  some 
consolation.  Fancy  sending  here  a  man  who  has  never  used 
his  pen  except  about  those  dismal  statistics,  and  what  he  calls 


WALDERSTIATiE  FRIOnTEys  ST.  BARBE. 


439 


0  return 

riot  any 

conduct 

sips  been 

That  air 

to  liavo 

slio  was 

a  coun- 

yety  and 

perhaps 

with  the 

Adriaiia 

;o  api)re- 

y  dance, 

galleries, 

'ricnd  of 

imensely 

ices  were 

ler  their 

us,"  said 

uchatel ; 
lid  I  feel 

ad y,  had 
,  came  to 
ce. 

our  own 
ere  Jaw- 
le  did  all 
nounced 
1  foreign 
lification 

is  some 
ver  used 

he  calls 


fir.-t  principles  !  I  liate  his  style,  so  neat  and  frigid.  No  color, 
sir.  I  hate  his  short  sentences,  like  a  dog  barking  ;  we  want  a 
word-painter  here,  sir.  My  description  of  tlio  wedding  sold  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand,  and  it  is  selling  now.  If  the  pro- 
prietors were  gentlemen,  they  would  have  sent  me  an  unlimited 
credit,  instead  of  their  paltry  fifty  pounds  a  day  and  my  ex- 
penses ;  but  you  never  meet  a  liberal  man  now — no  such  aninuil 
known.  What  I  want  you  to  do  for  me,  Lord  Waldershare,  is 
to  get  me  invited  to  the  Villa  Aurea  when  the  court  moves 
there.  It  will  be  private  life  there,  and  that  \-  the  article  the 
British  public  want  now.  They  are  satiated  with  ceremonies 
and  festivals.  They  want  to  know  what  the  royal  pair  have  for 
dinner  when  they  are  alone,  how  they  pass  their  evenings,  and 
whether  the  queen  drives  ponies.'' 

**  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  said  Waldershare,  "they  shall 
rcxnain  state  secrets." 

*'  I  have  received  no  special  favors  here,"  rejoined  St.  Barbe, 
"though,  with  my  claims,  I  might  have  counted  on  tlie  utter- 
most. However,  it  is  always  so.  I  must  depend  on  my  own 
resources.  I  have  a  retainer,  I  cmu  tell  you,  my  lord,  from  tlie 
*Eigdum  Funidos,'  in  my  pocket,  and  it  is  in  my  power  to 
keep  up  such  a  crackling  of  jokes  and  sarcasms  that  a  very 
different  view  would  soon  be  entertained  in  Europe  of  what  is 
going  on  here  than  is  now  the  fashion.  The  '  Rigdum  Funidos ' 
is  on  the  breakfast-table  of  all  England,  and  sells  thousands  in 
every  capital  of  the  world.  You  do  not  appreciate  its  power  ; 
you  will  now  feel  it." 

"I  also  am  a  subscriber  to  the  'Rigdum  Funidos,' "  said 
Waldershare,  ''and  tell  you  frankly,  Mr.  St.  Barbe,  that  if  I 
see  in  its  columns  the  slightest  allusion  to  any  person  or  inci- 
dent in  this  country,  I  will  take  care  that  you  be  instantly  con- 
signed to  the  galleys ;  and,  this  being  a  liberal  government,  I 
can  do  that  without  even  the  ceremony  of  a  primary  in- 
quiry." 

"You  do  not  mean  that !"  said  St.  Barbe  ;  "of  course,  I 
was  only  jesting.  It  is  not  likely  that  I  should  say  or  do  any- 
thing disagreeable  to  those  whom  I  look  upon  as  my  patrons — 
I  may  say  friends — through  life.     It  makes  me  almost  weep 


ii 


440 


EXDYMIoy. 


■when  I  rcinc'iiilKT  my  curly  comu'ctiou  with  Mr.  Fcrnuv,  now 
an  iiiulor  secretary  of  state,  and  wJio  will  mount  higher.  I 
never  had  a  chance  of  being  ii  min'stei',  though  I  suppose  I  am 
not  more  incapable  than  others  av.'io  get  the  silver  spoon  into 
their  mouths.  And  then  his  divi.io  sister  !  Quite  a  heroic 
character  !  I  never  luid  a  sister,  and  so  I  never  liad  even  the 
chance  of  being  nearly  related  to  royalty.  But  so  it  has  been 
throughout  my  life.  No  luck,  my  lord  ;  no  luck.  And  then 
they  say  one  is  misanthropical.  Hang  it !  who  can  help  being 
misanthropical  when  he  finds  everybody  getting  on  in  life  cx- 
ce[it  himself  ?'' 

The  court  moved  to  their  favorite  summer  residence,  a 
Palhidian  })alaco  on  a  blue  lake,  its  banks  clothed  with  forests 
abounding  with  every  species  of  game,  and  beyond  them  loftier 
mountains.  The  king  was  devoted  to  sport,  and  Endymion 
was  always  among  his  companions.  Waldcrsharc  rather  at- 
tached himself  to  the  ladies,  who  made  gay  parties  floating  in 
gondolas,  and  refreshed  themselves  with  i^icnics  in  sylvan  re- 
treats. It  was  supposed  Lord  Waldcrsharc  Avas  a  great  admirer 
of  the  Princess  of  Montserrat,  who  in  return  referred  to  him  as 
that  "  lovable  eccentricity."  As  the  autumn  advanced,  parties 
of  guests  of  high  distinction,  i.rcfully  arranged,  periodically 
arrived.  Now,  there  was  more  ceremony,  and  every  evening 
the  circle  was  formed,  while  the  king  and  queen  exchanged 
words,  and  sometimes  ideas,  with  those  who  were  so  fortunate 
as  to  be  under  their  roof.  Frequently  there  were  dramatic 
performances,  and  sometimes  a  dance.  The  Princess  of  Mont- 
serrat was  inv;:''uablo  in  these  scenes  ;  vivacious,  imaginative, 
a  consummate  mimic,  her  countenance,  though  not  beautiful, 
was  full  of  charm.  What  was  strange,  Adriana  took  a  great 
fancy  to  her  highness,  and  they  were  seldom  sei)aratcd.  The 
only  cloud  for  Endymion  in  this  happy  life  was  that  every  day 
the  necessity  of  his  return  to  England  was  more  urgent,  and 
every  day  the  days  vanished  more  (juickly.  That  return  to 
England,  once  counted  by  weeks,  would  soon  be  counted  by 
hours.  lie  had  conferred  once  or  tAvice  with  Waldcrsharc  on 
the  subject,  Avho  always  turned  the  conversation  ;  at  last  En- 
dymion reminded  him  that  the  time  of  his  departure  was  at 


i 


'iuv,  now 

gllCT.       I 

o.<o  I  am 
ooji  into 
a  licroic 

vcn  tlie 
luis  been 
^nd  tlicn 
]])  being 

life  cx- 


Icnce,    u 
1  forests 
n  loftier 
ulymion 
tlier  at- 
ating  in 
Ivan  re- 
admirer 
3  him  as 
,  parties 
iodically 
evening 
clianged 
)rtnnato 
[ramatic 
f  Mont- 
;inative, 
autiful, 
a  great 
I.     Tlic 
cry  day 
nt,  and 
turn  to 
ited  by 
bare  on 
ast  En- 
!  was  at 


• 

77//; 

QUEKN'S 

f\\'IfAPP/.\'/:>!< 

411 

liatid,  iVA<\  Lluit,  urij 

^Mually,  it  h 

ad  been  agrecil  they  sliuu 

111  re- 

turn  t.jgetlier. 

"■  Y''ej",  my  dear 

[''crrar.-!,  we 

did  so 

agree,  but  the  agreement 

wa-i  pormi.-ive,  not 

compulsory 

■   >ry 

views  are  clianged. 

Per- 

liai)j  I  -liall  never  r 

eturn  to  En 

gland 

again  ;  I  think  of 

Ix'iiig 

naturalized  here.'' 

The  ([uccn  was  depressed  at  the  pro-ijiect  of  l)eing  separated 
from  her  brother.  Sometimes  she  remonstrated  with  him  for 
his  devotion  to  sport  which  deprived  her  of  his  society  ;  fre- 
quently in  a  morning  she  sent  for  him  to  her  boudoir,  that 
they  might  talk  together  as  in  oM  times.  *'The  king  has  in- 
vited Lord  and  Lady  Beaumaris  to  })ay  us  a  visit,  and  tiiey  are 
coming  at  once.  I  had  hoped  the  dear  Hainav.k;  might  have 
visited  us  here.  I  think  she  wouM  have  liked  it.  However, 
they  will  certainly  pass  the  winter  with  us.  It  is  some  con- 
solation to  mo  not  to  lose  Adriana." 

"  The  greatest,"  said  Endymion,  "  and  .-he  seems  so  nai)i)y 
here.     She  seems  ([uite  changed." 

"  I  hope  she  is  happier,"  said  the  queen,  '•  but  I  trust  slio 
is  not  changed.  I  think  her  nearly  perfection.  So  pure,  even 
so  exalted  a  mind,  joined  with  so  sweet  a  temper,  I  have  never 
met.  And  she  is  very  much  admired  'oo,  I  can  tell  you.  The 
Prince  of  Arragon  Avould  be  on  his  knees  to  her  to-morrow,  if 
she  would  only  give  a  single  smile.  But  she  smiles  enough 
with  the  Princess  of  ^Montserrat.  I  heard  her  the  other  day 
absolutely  in  uncontrollable  laugliter.  That  is  a  strange  friend- 
ship ;  it  amuses  me." 

"  The  princess  has  immense  resource." 

The  queen  suddenly  rose  from  her  seat ;  her  countenance 
was  disturbed. 

'^  Why  do  we  talk  of  her,  or  of  any  other  tritler  of  the  court, 
when  there  hangs  over  us  so  great  a  sorrow,  Endymion,  as 
our  separation  ?  Endymion,  my  best  beloved,"  and  she  threw 
her  arms  round  his  neck,  ''  my  heart  !  my  life  I  Is  it  possible, 
that  you  can  leave  me,  and  so  miserable  as  I  am." 

''Miserable!" 

"  Yes  !  miserable  when  I  think  of  your  position — and  even 
my  own.     Mine  own  has  risen  like  a  palace  in  a  dream,  and 


;    f 


i 


■# 


442 


ENDYMIOX. 


may  vanish  like  one.  But  that  would  not  be  a  calamity  if  you 
were  safe.  If  I  quitted  this  world  to-morrow,  where  would  you 
be  !  It  gives  \c.q  sleepless  nights  and  anxious  days.  If  you 
really  loved  me  as  you  say,  you  would  save  me  this.  I  am 
haunted  with  the  perpetual  thought  that  all  this  glittering 
l)rosperity  will  vai-i.-jh  as  it  did  with  our  father.  God  forbid 
tluit,  under  any  circumstances,  it  should  lead  to  such  an  end — 
l)ut  who  knows?  Fate  is  terribly  stern  ;  ironically  just.  0! 
Thulyinion,  if  you  really  love  me,  your  twin,  half  of  your  blood 
and  life,  who  have  labored  for  you  so  mucli,  and  thought  for 
you  so  much,  and  prayed  for  you  so  much — and  yet  I  some- 
times feci  have  done  so  little. — 0!  Endymiou,  my  adored,  my 
own  Endymion,  if  you  wish  to  jirescrve  my  life — if  you  wish 
me  not  only  to  live,  but  really  to  be  happy  as  I  ought  to  be  and 
could  be,  but  for  one  dark  thought,  help  me,  aid  me,  save  me 
— you  can,  and  by  one  single  act." 

''•  One  single  act  I  " 

''Yes  !  marry  Adriana." 

"Ah  !"  and  he  sighed. 

"Yes,  Adriana,  to  whom  we  both  of  us  owe  everything. 
Were  it  not  for  Adriana,  you  would  not  be  here,  you  would  be 
nothing,"  and  she  whispered  some  words  which  made  him 
start,  and  alternately  blush  and  look  pale. 

"Is  it  possible  ?"'  he  exclaimed.  "My  sister,  my  beloved 
sister,  I  have  tried  to  keep  my  brain  cool  in  many  trials.  But 
I  feel,  as  it  were,  as  if  life  were  too  much  for  me.  You  coun- 
sel me  to  that  which  avc  should  all  repeiit." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it  ;  you  may  for  a  moment  think  it  i  sacri- 
fice, but  believe  me,  that  is  all  fantasy.  I  know  you  think 
your  heart  belongs  to  another.  I  will  grant  everything,  wil- 
lingly grant  everything  you  could  say  of  her.  Yes,  I  admit, 
she  is  beautiful,  she  has  many  charms,  has  been  to  you  a  faith- 
ful friend,  you  delight  in  her  society  ;  such  things  have  hap- 
pened before  to  many  men,  to  every  man  they  say  they  happen, 
but  that  has  not  prevented  them  from  being  wise,  and  very 
happy  too.  Your  present  position,  if  you  persist  in  it,  is  one 
most  perilous.     You  lune  no  root  in  the  count 


I  try 


accident  you  could  not  maintain  the  public  position  you  have 


EXDYMIOX'S   VOYAGE  HOME. 


443 


^y  if  you 

ould  yon 
If  you 
I  am 

■littering 
(1  forbid 
in  end — 
list.  01 
uj-  blood 
uglit  for 
I  some- 
red,  my 
ou  wish 
(J  be  and 
save  mo 


nobly  gained.  As  for  the  great  crowning  consummation  of 
your  life,  which  we  dreamed  over  at  unhappy  Hurstley,  which 
I  have  sometimes  dared  to  prophesy,  that  must  be  surrendered. 
The  country  at  the  best  will  look  upon  you  only  as  a  reputable 
adventurer  to  be  endured,  even  trusted  and  supported,  in  some 
secondary  post,  but  nothing  more.  I  touch  on  this,  for  I  see 
it  is  useless  to  speak  of  myself  and  my  own  fate  and  feelings  ; 
only  remember,  Endymion,  I  have  never  deceived  you.  I  can 
not  endure  any  longer  this  state  of  affairs.  When  in  a  few 
days  we  part,  we  shall  never  meet  again.  And  all  the  devotion 
of  Myra  will  end  in  your  destroying  her." 

**My  own,  my  beloved  Myra,  do  with  me  what  you  like. 
If-" 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  gentle  tap  at  the  door,  and  the 
king  entered. 

'' My  angel,"  he  said,  "and  you  too  my  dear  Endymion. 
I  have  some  news  from  England  which  I  fear  may  distress  you. 
Lord  Montfort  is  dead." 


•ything. 
'ould  be 
de  him 

beloved 
3.  But 
u  coun- 

i  sacri- 
L  think 
ig,  wil- 
admit, 
I  faith- 
v'C  hajj- 
appen, 
d  very 
is  one 
for  an 
u  have 


\   * 


CHAPTER  XCVI. 

There  was  ever,  when  separated,  an  uninterrupted  corre- 
spondence between  Borengaria  and  Endymion.  They  wrote  to 
each  other  every  day,  ,«o  that  when  they  met  again  there  was 
no  void  in  their  lives  and  mutual  experience,  and  each  was 
acquainted  with  almost  fvcry  feeling  and  incident  tliat  had 
been  proved,  or  had  occurred,  since  they  parted.  The  start- 
ling news,  however,  communicated  by  the  king  had  not  previ- 
ously reached  Endymion,  bf-cause  he  was  on  the  eve  of  his  re- 
turn to  England,  and  his  correspondents  Iiad  been  requested  to 
direct  their  future  letters  to  his!  rosidem-e  in  London. 

His  voyage  home  was  an  agitated  om^,  and  not  sanguine  or 
inspiriting.  There  was  a  terrible  uncertainty  in  the  future. 
What  were  the  feelings  of  Lady  Montfort  toward  himself? 
Friendly,  kind,  affectionate,  in  a  certain  sense,  even  devoted, 
no  doubt ;  but  all  consistent  with  a  deep  and  determined 
friendship  which  sought  and  wished  for  no  return  more  ar- 


n 


'/in.Miix,!..,'^  J 


4it 


END  YJJIOX 


II 


■I" 
I! 


'i   1 


dent.  But  now  she  wus  free.  Yes,  Init  would  eIig  ai^'Ju  for- 
feit  licr  freedom  ?  And  if  she  did,  Avould  it  not  bo  to  attain 
some  great  end,  prol^ably  tlie  great  end  of  her  life  ?  Lady 
Montfort  was  a  woman  of  far-reaching  ambition.  In  a  certain 
degree,  she  had  married  to  secure  her  lofty  aims  ;  and  yet  it 
was  only  by  her  singular  energy,  and  the  playfulness  and  high 
spirit  of  her  temperament,  that  the  sacrifice  had  not  proved  a 
failure ;  her  success,  however,  was  limited,  for  the  ally  on 
Avhom  she  had  counted  rarely  assisted  and  never  sympathized 
with  her.  It  was  true  she  admired  and  even  loved  her  hus- 
band ;  her  vanity,  which  vras  not  slight,  was  gratified  by  her 
conquest  of  one  Avhom  it  had  seemed  no  one  could  subdue,  and 
who  apparently  placed  at  her  feet  all  the  power  and  magnifi- 
cence which  she  appreciated. 

Poor  Endymion,  who  loved  her  passionately,  over  whom 
she  exercised  the  influence  of  a  divinitv,  who  would  do  nothing 
without  consulting  her,  and  Avho  was  molded,  and  who  wished 
to  be  molded,  in  all  his  thoughts  and  feelings,  and  acts,  and 
conduct,  by  her  inspiring  will,  was  also  a  shrewd  man  of  the 
world,  and  did  not  permit  his  sentiment  to  cloud  his  percep- 
tion of  life  and  its  doings.  lie  felt  that  Lady  Montfort  had 
fallen  from  a  lofty  position,  and  she  was  not  of  a  temperament 
that  would  quietly  brock  her  fate.  Instead  of  being  the  mi;^- 
tress  of  castles  and  palaces,  with  ]n'incely  means,  and  all  the 
splendid  accidents  of  life  at  her  command,  she  was  now  a  dow- 
ager Avitli  a  jointure !  Still  young,  with  her  charms  unim- 
paired, heightened  CA'cn  by  the  maturity  of  her  fascinating 
qualities,  would  she  endure  this  ?  She  might  retain  her  friend- 
ship for  one  who,  as  his  sister  ever  impressed  upon  him,  had 
no  root  in  the  land,  and  even  that  friendship  he  felt  conscious 
must  yield  mucli  of  its  entireness  and  intimacy  to  the  influence 
of  new  ties  ;  but  for  tlieir  lives  ever  being  Joined  together,  as 
had  sometimes  been  his  wild  dream,  his  cheek,  though  alone, 
burned  with  the  consciousness  of  hi<  folly  and  self-decep- 
tion. 

"He  is  one  of  our  rising  statesmen,"  whispered  the  captain 
of  the  vessel  to  a  passenger,  as  Endymion,  silent,  lonely,  and 
absorbed,  walked,  as  was  his  daily  custom,  the  quarter-deck. 


AMUSEMEXTS  AT  miXCEDOWX. 


445 


^•^.in  f(n'- 
to  attain 

?  Lady 
a  certain 
nd  yet  it 
and  liigli 
proved  a 

ally  on 
ipathized 
her  lius- 
d  by  lier 
idiio,  and 
ma2:niri- 

^r  Avhom 
nothing 

0  wished 
lets,  and 
n  of  the 
3  perccp- 
fort  liad 
lerament 
the  mis- 

1  all  the 
\y  a  d ow- 
ls nnim- 
cinatiiig 
r  friend- 
lim,  had 
onscious 
nfluence 
3ther,  as 
!i  alone, 
i-decep- 

captain 
cly,  and 
cr-dcck. 


*'I  dare  say  he  has  a  good  load  on  his  mind.  Do  you 
know,  I  would  sooner  bo  a  captain  of  a  ship  than  a  minister 
of  state  ?  " 

Poor  Endymion  !  Yes,  he  bore  his  burden,  but  it  was  not 
secrets  of  state  that  overwhelmed  him.  If  his  mind  for  a  mo- 
ment ipiittcd  the  contemplation  of  Lady  Montfort,  it  was  only 
to  encounter  the  recollection  of  a  heartrending  separation  from 
his  sister,  and  his  strange  and  now  pcrjilexing  relations  with 
Adriana. 

Lord  Moil  rt  had  passed  the  summer,  as  he  had  an- 
nounced, at  Priiicedown,  and  alone  ;  that  is  to  say,  without 
Lady  ^lont^ort.  She  wrote  to  him  frequently,  and  if  she 
omitted  doing  so  for  a  longer  interval  than  usual,  he  would 
indite  to  her  a  liitle  note,  always  courteous,  sometimes  almost 
kind,  reminding  her  that  her  letters  amused  him,  and  that  of 
late  they  had  been  rare/  than  he  wished.  Lady  Montfort  her- 
self made  ^lontfort  Castle  her  home,  paying  sometimes  a  visit 
to  her  family  in  the  neighborhood,  and  sometime'^  receiving 
them  and  other  guests.  Lord  Montfort  hi mselt'  did  not  live  in 
al)3oIutL'  solitude.  lie  had  society  always  at  command.  lie 
always  had  a  court  about  him  ;  erpierries,  and  secretaries,  and 
doctors,  and  odd  and  amusing  men  whom  they  found  out  for 
him,  and  who  -were  well  pleased  to  find  themselves  in  his  beau- 
tiful, and  magnificent  Princedown,  wandering  in  woods  and 
parks  and  pleasaunces,  «'  vouring  his  choice  enfrees,  and  cpiad- 
ing  his  curious  wines.  Sometimes  he  dined  with  them,  -ome- 
times  a  few  dined  with  him,  sometimes  he  was  not  <CQn  for 
weeks  ;  but  whether  he  were  visible  or  not,  he  was  the  subj«'ct 
of  constant  thought  and  conversation  by  all  under  his  roof. 

Lord  Montfort,  it  may  be  r-membered,  was  a  great  fisher- 
man. It  was  the  only  sport  which  retained  a  hold  upon  him. 
The  solitude,  the  charming  sent  ry,  and  the  rerpiisite  skill, 
combined  to  please  him.     Tlr  'i:l1  a  h)ve  for  nature,  and  he 


gi'atlficd  it  in  tb's  pursuit. 


domain  ubouudfd  in   those 


bright  chalky  streams  which  the  trout  love,     lie  liked  to  wateli 
the  moor-hens,  too,  and  especially  a  kingfisher. 

Lord  "^lntfort  came  home  late  one  day  after  much  w.iding. 
It  had        a  .i  fine  day  for  anglers,  soft  and  not  too  bright,  and 


5 
i 


440 


ENDYMIOK 


IS 


'It 


it 


i'  t 


# 


ii 


*i 


ho  had  been  tempted  to  remain  long  in  the  water.  lie  drove 
home  rapidly,  but  it  was  in  an  open  carriage,  and  wlien  the 
sun  set  there  was  a  cold  autumnal  breeze.  He  complained  at 
night,  and  said  he  had  been  chilled.  There  was  always  a  doc- 
tor under  the  roof,  who  felt  his  patient's  pul>e,  ordered  tlie 
usual  remedies,  and  encouraged  him.  Lord  ]Montfort  passed 
a  bad  night,  and  his  physician  in  the  morning  found  fever,  and 
feared  there  were  symptoms  of  pleurisy.  lie  prescribed  accord- 
ingly, but  summoned  from  town  two  great  authorities.  The 
great  authorities  did  not  arrive  until  the  next  day.  They  ai> 
proved  of  everything  that  had  been  done,  but  sliook  their  heads. 
'•No  immediate  danger,  but  serious." 

Four-and-twenty  hours  afterAvard  they  inquired  of  Lord 
Montfort  Avhether  thev  should  ,<cnd  for  his  Avife.  "  On  no  ac- 
count  whatever,"  he  replied.  ''  My  orders  on  this  head  arc 
absolute."  Nevertheless  they  did  send  for  Lady  Montfort,  and 
as  there  was  even  then  a  telegraph  to  the  north,  Berengaria, 
who  departed  from  lur  cu.-tle  instantly,  and  traveled  all  night, 
arrived  in  eight-and-fortv  hours  at  Princedown.  The  state  of 
Lord  Montfort  then  was  critical. 

It  was  broken  to  xjord  Montfort  that  his  wife  had  arrived. 

"1  perceive  theu_*'  he  replied,  "  that  I  am  going  to  die,  be- 
cause I  am  disobe3'ed. " 

These  Avere  the  last  words  ho  uttered.  He  turned  in  his 
bed  as  it  Avere  to  conccJ  his  cr-unterance,  and  expired  Avithout 
a  sigh  or  sound. 

There  Avas  not  a  single  person  at  PrinccdoAvn  in  AvlK>m  Lady 
Montfort  c-'uld  confide.  Sh('  had  :^ummoned  the  family  solici- 
tor, but  he  could  not  arrive  until  the  next  day,  and  until  he 
came  she  m.-^isted  that  none  of  her  late  lord's  papers  should  be 
touched.  She  at  first  thought  he  had  made  a  will,  because 
otherAvise  all  his  property  would  go  to  his  cousin,  Avhom  he 
particularly  luiti'il,  and  yet  on  roHoction  she  could  hardly  fancy 
his  making  a  Avill.  It  aams  a  trouble  to  him — a  dis:igreeable 
trouble  ;  and  there  A\'as  nobody  she  kncAv  whom  he  Avotild  care 
to  benefit.  lie  Avas  not  a  man  Avho  Avould  leave  anything  to 
hospitals  and  charities.  Therefore,  on  the  Avhole,  she  arrived 
at  the  conclusion  he  had  not  made  a  Avill,  tliough  all  the  guests 


3f( 


LONELINESS. 


447 


at  Princedown  were  of  a  different  opinion,  and  each  was  calcu- 
lating the  amount  of  his  own  legacy. 

At  last  the  laAvyer  arrived,  and  he  brought  the  will  with 
him.  It  was  very  short,  and  not  very  recent.  Everything  he 
had  in  the  world  except  the  settled  estates,  Montfort  Castle 
and  Montfort  IIouso,  he  bequeathed  to  his  wife.  It  was  a  vast 
inheritance  ;  not  only  Princedown,  but  great  accumulations  of 
personal  property,  for  Lord  Montfort  was  fond  of  amassing, 
and  admired  the  sweet  simi)licity  of  the  three  i)er  cents. 


I 


CIIAPTEPt   XCVII. 

Whex  Endymion  arrived  in  London  he  found  among  his 
letters  two  brief  notes  from  Lady  Montfort  ;  one  hurriedly 
written  at  Montfort  Castle  at  the  moment  of  her  departure,  and 
another  from  PrincedoAvn,  with  these  words  only,  "  All  is 
over."  More  than  a  week  had  elapsed  since  the  last  Avas  writ- 
ten, and  he  had  already  learned  from  the  newspapers  that  the 
funeral  had  taken  place.  It  was  a  painful  but  still  necessary 
duty  to  fulfill,  to  write  to  her,  which  he  did,  but  he  received 
no  answer  to  his  letter  of  sympathy,  and  to  a  certain  degree, 
of  condolence.  Time  flew  on,  but  he  could  not  venture  to 
Avrite  again,  and  without  any  absolute  cause  for  his  discomfort, 
he  felt  harassed  and  unhappy.  He  had  been  so  accustomed  all 
his  life  to  exist  under  the  genial  influence  of  women  that  his 
present  days  seemed  lone  and  dark.  Ilis  sister  and  Rerengariii, 
two  of  the  most  gifted  and  charming  beings  in  the  world,  had 
seemed  to  agree  that  their  first  duty  had  ever  been  to  sym})a- 
thizo  with  his  fortunes  and  to  aid  them.  Even  his  correspond- 
ence with  Myra  was  changed.  There  was  a  tone  of  constraint 
in  their  communications ;  perhai)S  it  was  the  great  alteration 
in  her  position  that  occasioned  it  ?  His  heart  assured  him  that 
such  was  not  the  case.  He  felt  deeply  and  acutely  what  was 
the  cause.  The  subject  most  interesting  to  both  of  them  could 
not  be  touched  on.  And  then  he  thought  of  Adriana,  and 
contrasted  his  dull  and  solitary  home  in  Hill  Street  wi*^li  what* 


m 


4-lS 


EXDYMIOX. 


if 


itiiiigliL  have  been,,  graced  by  her  presence,  auiinated  by  her 
devotion,  and  .softened  by  tlic  sAVCctness  of  her  temper. 

Endymion  began  to  feel  tliat  tlie  run  of  his  good  fortune 
was  dried.  Ilis  sister,  when  he  had  a  trouble,  would  never 
hear  of  this  ;  she  always  held  that  the  misery  and  calamities  of 
their  early  years  had  exhausted  the  influence  of  their  evil  stars, 
and  api)arcntly  she  had  been  right,  and  perhaps  she  would  iuivc 
always  been  right  had  he  not  been  perverse,  and  thwarted  her 
in  the  most  important  circumstances  of  his  life. 

In  this  state  of  mind,  there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  ]jut 
to  plunge  into  business  ;  and  affairs  of  state  are  a  cure  for  many 
cares  and  sorrows.  What  are  our  petty  annoyances  and  griefs 
when  we  have  to  guard  the  fortunes  and  the  honor  of  a  na- 
tion ? 

The  Xovember  cabinets  had  commenced,  and  this  brought 
all  the  chiefs  to  town,  Sidney  Wilton  among  them ;  and  his 
society  was  always  a  great  i)leasure  to  Endymion  ;  the  only 
social  pleasure  now  left  to  liim  Avas  a  little  dinner  at  Mr.  Wil- 
ton's, and  little  dinners  there  abounded.  Mr.  W^ilton  knew 
all  the  persons  that  he  Avas  always  thinking  about,  but  whom, 
it  might  be  noticed,  they  seemed  to  agree  now  rarely  to  men- 
tion. As  for  the  rest,  there  was  nobody  to  call  upon  in  the 
delightful  hours  between  official  duties  and  dinner.  No  Lady 
Eochampton  now,  no  brilliant  Bercngaria,  not  even  the  gentle 
Imogcne  with  her  welcome  smile,  lie  looked  in  at  the  Coven- 
try Club,  a  club  of  fashion,  and  also  much  frequented  by  di- 
plomatists. There  were  a  good  many  persons  tlicrc,  and  a  for- 
eign minister  immediately  buttonholed  the  Under-Secretary 
of  State. 

''I  called  at  the  Foreign  Office  to-day,"  said  the  foreign 
minister.     "I  assure  you  it  is  very  pressing." 

''I  had  the  American  with  me,"  said  Endymion,  ''and  he 
is  lengthy.  However,  as  to  your  business,  I  think  we  might 
talk  it  over  here,  and  perhaps  settle  it."  And  so  they  left  the 
room  together. 

''I  wonder  what  is  going  to  happen  to  that  gentleman," 
said  Mr.  Ormsby,  glancing  at  Endymion,  and  speaking  to  Mr. 
Cass  ilis. 


A    WELCOME  LETTER. 


449 


> 


ted  by  licr 

or. 

)d  fortune 

uld  never 
lamities  of 

evil  stars, 
vould  ]i:ivc 
v'arted  lior 

to  do  but 
3  for  many 
and  griefs 
r  of  a  na- 

s  brought: 
;  and  liis 
;  the  only 
;  .Air.  Wil- 
ton knew 
iut  Avhom, 
y  to  mcn- 
on  in  the 
No  Lady 
the  gentle 
ho  Coven- 
ed  by  di- 
Eind  a  for- 
Secretary 


c  foreign 


^'and  he 
ive  might 
y  left  the 

itlcman," 
ig  to  ]\Ir. 


**  Wliy  ?"  .eplied  Mr.  Cassilis,  "  is  anything  up  ?  " 

"  Will  he  marry  Lady  ^lontfort  ?  " 

''  Poll ! "  said  Mr.  Cassilis. 

''You  may  poll!  "said  Mr.  Ormsby,  "but  he  was  a  great 
favorite." 

"  Lady  Montfort  will  never  marry.  She  had  always  a  poo- 
dle, and  always  will  have.  She  was  never  so  Jiec  with  Ferrars 
as  with  the  Count  of  Fcrroll,  and  half  a  dozen  others.  She 
must  have  a  slave." 

"A  very  good  mistress  with  thirty  thousand  a  year." 

"  She  has  not  that,"  said  Mr.  Cassilis,  doubtingly. 

"  What  do  you  put  Princedown  at  ?  "  said  Mr.  Ormsjjy. 

"  That  I  can  tell  you  to  a  T,"  replied  Mr.  Cassilis,  ''  "for  it 
Avas  offered  to  me  when  old  Rambrook  died.  You  will  never 
get  twelve  thousand  a  year  out  of  it." 

"Well,  I  will  answer  for  half  a  million  Consols,"  said 
Ormsby,  "for  my  lawyer,  Avhen  he  made  a  little  investment 
for  me  the  other  day,  saw  the  entry  himself  in  the  bank-books  ; 
our  names  are  very  near,  you  know — M,  and  O.  Then  there 
is  her  jointure,  something  like  ten  thousand  a  year." 

"No,  no  ;  not  seven." 

"  Well,  that  would  do." 

"And  what  is  the  amount  of  your  little  investment  in  Con- 
sols altogether,  Ormsby  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  believe  I  top  Montfort,"  said  Mr.  Ormsby  with  a 
complacent  smile,  "but  then  you  know,  I  am  not  a  s\vell  like 
yon  ;  I  have  no  land." 

"Lady  Montfort,  thirty  thousand  a  year,"  said  Mr.  Cassi- 
lis, musingly.  "She  is  only  thirty.  She  is  a  woman  who  will 
set  the  Thames  on  fire,  but  she  will  never  marry.  Do  you  dine 
to-day,  by  any  chance,  with  Sidney  Wilton  ?" 

Wlien  Endymion  returned  home  this  evening  he  found  a 
letter  from  Lady  Montfort.  It  was  a  month  since  he  had  writ- 
ten to  her.  He  was  so  nervous  that  he  absolutely  for  a  mo- 
ment could  not  break  the  seal,  and  the  palpitation  of  his  heart 
was  almost  overpowering. 

Lady  Montfort  thanked  him  for  his  kind  letter,  which  she 
ought  to  have  acknowledged  before,  but  she  had  been  very 


i:l 


1 


H 


i 


^11 


§'■■ 


m 


'ft- 


450 


ENDYMFON. 


busy — indeed,  (|uitc  overwlielmed  witli  affairs.  81io  wished  to 
see  him,  but  was  sorry  slie  could  not  ask  him  down  to  Prince- 
down,  as  she  was  living  in  complete  retirement,  only  her  aunt 
with  her.  Lady  Gertrude,  whom,  she  believed,  he  knew.  lie 
was  aware  probably  how  good  Lord  Montfort  had  been  to  her. 
Sincerely  she  could  say,  nothing  could  have  been  more  unex- 
pected. If  she  could  have  seen  her  husband  before  the  fatal 
moment,  it  would  have  been  a  consolation  to  her.  He  liad 
always  been  kind  to  ^ndymion  ;  she  really  believed  sometimes 
that  Lord  Montfort  was  even  a  little  attached  to  him.  She 
should  like  Endvmion  to  have  some  souvenir  of  her  late  hus- 
band.  Would  he  choose  something,  or  would  he  leave  it  to 
her  ? 

One  would  rather  agree,  from  the  tone  of  this  letter,  that 
Mr.  Cassilis  knew  what  he  was  talking  about.  It  fell  rather 
cold  on  Endymion's  heart,  and  he  passed  a  night  of  some  dis- 
quietude ;  not  one  of  those  nights,  exactly,  when  wc  feel  that 
the  end  of  the  Avorld  has  at  lengHi  arrived,  and  that  we  are  the 
first  victim,  but  a  night  when  you  slumber  rather  than  sleep, 
and  wake  with  the  consciousness  of  some  indefinable  chagrin  ! 

This  was  a  dull  Christmas  for  Endymion  Ferrars.  He 
passed  it,  as  he  had  passed  others,  at  Gay  dene,  but  what  a  con- 
trast to  the  old  assemblies  there.  Every  source  of  excitement 
that  could  make  existence  absolutely  fascinating  seemed  then 
to  unite  in  his  haj^py  fate.  Entrancing  love  and  the  very 
romancp  of  domestic  affection,  and  friendships  of  honor  and 
happiness,  and  all  the  charms  of  an  accomplished  society,  and 
the  feeling  of  a  noble  future,  and  the  present  and  urgent  inter- 
est in  national  affairs — all  gone,  except  some  ambition  which 
might  tend  to  consequences  not  more  successful  than  those 
that  had  ultimately  visited  his  house  with  irreparable  calamity. 

The  meeting  of  Parliament  was  a  great  relief  to  Endymion. 
Besides  his  office  he  had  noAV  the  House  of  Commons  to  occupy 
him.  He  was  never  absent  from  his  place  ;  no  little  runnings 
up  to  Montfort  House  or  Hill  Street  Just  to  tell  them  the  au- 
thentic news,  or  snatch  a  hasty  repast  with  furtive  delight,  with 
persons  still  more  delightful,  and  flattering  one's  self  all  the 
time  that,  so  far  as  absence  was  concerned,  the  fleetness  of  one's 


m  GROSVEXOR  SQUARE. 


451 


wished  to 
bo  Princc- 
'  her  iiunt 
new.  lie 
en  to  lier. 
ore  iinex- 
the  fatal 
He  had 
ometimcs 
im.  She 
hite  li  US- 
save  it  to 

ttor,  that 
3II  rather 
some  dis- 
feel  tliat 
■■e  are  the 
an  sleeji, 
hagrin  ! 
ars.     He 
at  a  con- 
citement 
led  tlien 
the  very 
)nor  and 
iety,  and 
nt  inter- 
)n  which 
m  those 
ialamity. 
dymion. 
0  occupy 
'unnings 
L  the  au- 
ht,  with 
f  all  the 
of  one's 


gifted  brougham  horse  really  made  it  no  difference  between 
Mayfair  and  Bellamy's. 

End}  mion  had  replied,  but  not  very  quickly,  to  Lady  Mont- 
fort's  letter,  and  he  had  heard  from  her  again,  but  her  letter 
requiring  no  reply,  the  correspondence  had  dropped.  It  was 
the  beginning  of  March  when  she  wrote  to  him  to  say,  that  she 
was  obliged  to  come  to  town  to  see  her  lawyer  and  transact 
some  business;  that  she  would  be  ''at  papa's  in  Grosvcnor 
Square,"  though  the  house  was  shut  u]),  on  a  certain  day,  lliat 
she  much  wished  to  see  Endymion,  and  begged  him  to  call 
on  her. 

It  was  a  trying  moment  when  about  noon  lie  lifted  the 
knocker  in  Grosvenc  •  Square.  The  door  was  not  o^jcned  rap- 
idly, and  the  delay  made  him  more  nervous.  He  almost  wished 
the  door  would  never  open.  He  was  shown  into  a  small  back 
room  on  the  ground  floor  in  which  was  a  bookcase,  and  which 
chamber  in  the  language  of  Grosvenor  Square  is  called  a 
library. 

"Her  ladyship  will  see  you  presently,"  said  the  servant, 
who  had  come  up  from  Princedown. 

Endymion  was  standing  before  the  fire,  and  as  nervous  as  a 
man  could  well  be.  He  sighed,  and  he  sighed  more  than  once. 
His  breathing  was  oppressed  ;  he  felt  that  life  was  too  short  to 
permit  us  to  experience  such  scenes  and  situations.  He  hoard 
the  lock  of  the  door  move,  and  it  required  all  his  manliness  to 
endure  it. 

She  entered ;  she  was  in  weeds,  but  they  became  her  ad- 
mirably ;  her  countenance  was  grave  and  apparently  with  an 
effort  to  command  it.  She  did  not  move  hurriedly,  but  held 
out  both  her  hands  to  Endymion  and  retained  his,  and  all  with- 
out speaking.  Her  lips  then  seemed  to  move,  when,  rather 
suddenly,  Avithdrawing  her  right  hand,  and  placing  it  on  his 
shoulder,  and  burying  her  face  in  her  arm,  she  wept. 

He  led  her  soothingly  to  a  seat,  and  took  a  chair  by  her 
side.  Not  a  word  had  yet  been  spoken  by  either  of  them  ; 
only  a  murmur  of  sympathy  on  the  part  of  Endymion.  Lady 
Montfort  spoke  first. 

"  I  am  weaker  than  I  thought,  but  it  is  a  great  trial."   And 


,  I 


452 


END  YMIOX. 


\\ 


'm 


tlicn  slic  said  liow  sorry  slie  wa?,  tliat  slic  could  not  receive  him 
at  Princedowu  ;  but  s1;g  tliouglit  it  best  tluit  ho  shoukl  not  j,^o 
there,  "  I  have  a  great  deal  of  business  to  transact — you  would 
not  believe  how  much.  I  do  not  dislike  it,  it  occupies  me,  it 
employs  my  mind.  I  have  led  so  active  a  life,  that  solitude  is 
rather  too  much  for  me.  Among  other  business,  I  must  buy  a 
town  house,  and  that  is  the  most  difficult  of  affairs.  There 
never  was  so  great  a  city  with  such  small  houses.  I  shall  feel  the 
loss  of  Montfort  House,  though  I  never  used  it  half  so  much  an 
I  wished.  I  want  a  mansion  ;  I  should  think  you  could  help  me 
in  this.  "When  I  return  to  society,  I  mean  to  receive.  There 
must  be  therefore  good  reception  rooms  :  if  possible,  more  th;iu 
good.  And  now  let  us  talk  about  our  friends.  Tell  me  all 
about  your  royal  sister,  and  this  ncAV  marriage  ;  it  rather  sur- 
prised me,  but  I  think  it  exccllf^nt.  Ah,  you  can  keep  a  se- 
cret, but  you  see  it  is  no  use  1,  .ing  a  secret  with  me.  Even 
in  solitude  everything  reaches  me." 

"  I  assure  you  most  seriousl}',  that  I  can  annex  no  meaning 
to  what  you  are  saying." 

*'Then  I  can  hardly  think  it  true  ;  and  yet  it  came  from 
high  authority,  and  it  was  not  lold  to  me  as  u  real  secret." 

"  A  marri:i2:e,  and  whose  ?  " 

"  Miss  Neuchaters — Adriana." 

**And  to  whom  ?*'  inquired  Endymion,  changing  color. 

''To  Lord  Waldershare." 

"ToLord  Waldersharel" 

*"' And  has  not  3'our  sister  mentioned  it  to  you  ?" 

"Not  a  Avord  ;  it  can  not  be  true." 

*'I  will  give  to  you  my  authority,"  said  Lady  Montlurt. 
*'  Though  I  came  hero  in  the  twilight  in  a  hired  brougham, 
and  with  a  veil,  I  was  caught  before  I  could  enter  the  house 
by,  of  all  people  in  the  world,  Mrs.  Rodney.  And  she  told  mo 
this  in  what  she  called  '  real  confidence,'  and  it  was  an- 
nounced to  her  in  a  letter  from  her  sister,  Lady  Beaumaris. 
They  seem  all  delighted  with  the  match." 


H'i 


EXD ) WHO .V .>^  FA SCLW 1  7/ OX. 


ioS' 


^ccivo  liini 
uld  not  '^o 
yuii  would 
lies  mc,  it 
!oli tilde  is 
iiist  buy  a 
•s.     There 
illfccl  the 
0  much  a.i 
Id  Jicli^mc 
e.     TJiciv 
!iioro  tliau 
V'll  me  all 
athcr  sur- 
kee])  a  se- 
le.     Even 


)  meanniir 


ame  from 

crct." 


color. 


MoutlVn-t. 
raiigham, 
tlie  housG 
s  told  me 
was  an- 
?aumaris. 


ciiAPTEij  xcvin. 

This  marriage  of  A'riana  was  not  an  event  calciil;(ted  to 
calm  the  uneasy  and  dissatisfied  temperament  of  Endymion. 
The  past  rendered  it  impossible  that  this  announcement  should 
not  in  some  degree  affect  him.  Then  the  silence  of  his  sister 
on  such  a  subject  was  too  significant  ;  the  silence  even  of  "Wal- 
dershare.  Somehow  or  other,  it  seemed  that  all  these  onco 
dear  and  devoted  friends  stood  in  different  relations  to  him 
and  to  each  other  from  what  they  once  filled.  ^I'hey  had  ])e- 
comc  more  near  and  intimate  together,  but  he  seemed  without 
the  pale ;  he,  that  Endymion,  who  once  seemed  the  prime  ob- 
ject, if  not  the  center,  of  all  their  thoughts  and  sentiment. 
And  why  was  this  ?  What  was  the  inlluenco  that  had  swayed 
him  to  a  line  contrary  to  what  was  once  their  hopes  and  affec- 
tions ?  Had  he  an  evil  genius  ?  And  was  it  she  ?  Horrible 
thought ! 

The  interview  with  Lady  Montfort  had  been  deeply  inter- 
esting— had  for  a  moment  restored  him  to  himself.  Had  it  not 
been  for  this  news,  he  might  have  returned  home,  soothed, 
gratified,  even  again  indulging  in  dreams.  But  this  news  had 
made  him  ponder ;  had  made  him  feel  what  he  had  lost,  and 
forced  him  to  ask  himself  Avhat  he  had  gained. 

There  was  one  thing  he  had  gained,  and  that  was  the  privi- 
lege of  calling  on  Lady  Montfort  the  next  day.  That  was  a 
fact  that  sometimes  dissipated  all  the  shadows.  Under  the 
immediate  influence  of  her  i)resence,  he  became  spellbound  as 
of  vore,  and  in  the  intoxication  of  her  beaut v,  the  brightness 

*/  ■"  «,    '  CD 

of  her  mind,  and  her  ineffable  attraction,  he  felt  he  would  bo 
content  with  any  lot,  provided  he  might  retain  her  kind 
thoughts  and  pass  much  of  his  life  in  her  society. 

She  was  only  staying  three  or  four  days  in  town,  and  was 
much  engaged  in  the  mornings  ;  but  Endymion  called  on  her 
every  afternoon,  and  sat  talking  witli  her  till  dinner-time,  and 
they  both  dined  very  late.  As  he  really  on  personal  and  do- 
mestic affairs  never  could  have  any  reserve  with  her,  he  told 
her,  in  that  complete  confidence  in  which  they  always  indulged,. 


!    - 

'i 

m 


II 


r| 


454 


ENDYMIOK 


o 


f  the 
him  about 


was 


extraordinary  revelation  wliich  liis  sister  had  made  to 
the  parliamentary  qualitlcation.     Lac 
ntcrcsted  in  this  :  she  was  even  agitated,  and 


deeply 


Montfort 
looked 


Things  can  not 


very  grave. 

"I  am  sorry,"  she  said,  **Tve  know  this, 
remain  now  as  they  are.  You  can  not  return  the  money,  that 
would  be  churlish  ;  besides,  you  can  not  return  all  the  advan- 
tages which  it  gained  for  you,  and  they  must  certainly  be  con- 
sidered part  of  the  gift,  and  the  most  precious  ;  and  then,  too, 
it  would  betray  what  your  sister  rightly  called  a  'sacred  con- 
fidence.' And  yet  something  must  be  done — you  must  let  me 
think.  Do  not  mention  it  again."  And  then  they  talked  a 
little  of  public  affairs.  Lady  Montfort  saw  no  one,  and  heard 
from  no  one  now  ;  but  judging  from  the  journals,  she  thought 
the  position  of  the  government  feeble.  ''There  can  not  be  a 
Protectionist  government,"  she  said,  "and  yet  that  is  the  only 
parliamentary  party  of  importance.  Things  will  go  on  till 
some  blow,  and  perhaps  a  slight  one,  will  upset  you  all.  And 
then  who  is  to  succeed  ?  I  think  some  queer  melange  got  up 
perhaps  by  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine." 

The  last  day  came.  She  parted  from  Endymion  with  kind- 
ness, but  not  with  tenderness.  lie  was  choking  with  emotion, 
and  tried  to  imitate  her  calmness. 

"  Am  I  to  write  to  you  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  faltering  voice. 

"Of  course  you  arc,"  she  said,  "every  day,  and  tell  me  all 
the  news." 

The  Hainaults,  and  the  Beaumaris,  and  Waldershare,  did 
not  return  to  England  until  some  time  after  Easter.  The  mar- 
riage was  to  take  place  in  June — Endymion  was  to  be  Walder- 
sfc are's  best  man.  There  were  many  festivities,  and  ho  was 
looked  upon  as  an  indispensable  guest  in  all.  Adriana  received 
his  congratulations  with  animation,  but  with  affection.  She 
thanked  him  for  a  bracelet  which  he  had  presented  to  her  ;  "I 
value  it  more,"  she  said,  "  than  all  my  other  presents  together, 
except  what  dear  Waldershare  has  given  to  me."  Even  with 
that  exception,  the  estimate  was  high,  for  never  a  bride  in  any 
land  ever  received  the  number  of  splendid  offerings  which 
crowded  the  tables  of  Lord  Ilainault's  new  palace,  which  he 


LADY  MONTFOnrS  NEW  HOUSE. 


voo 


made  to 
Montfort 
id  looked 

s  can  not 
ney,  that 
10  advan- 
y  bo  con- 
lien,  too, 
ired  con- 
st let  mo 
talked  a 
nd  heard 
thought 
not  bo  a 
the  only 
►  on  till 
11.     And 

'G  got  up 

th  kind- 
3motion, 

^oice. 
1  me  all 

are,  did 
he  mar- 
Walder- 

he  was 
feceived 
ti.  She 
er;  "I 
)gether, 
en  with 
s  in  any 

which 
lich  he 


liad  just  built  in  Park  Lane.  There  was  not  a  Xeuehatel  in 
existence,  and  tlicy  flourished  in  every  community,  wlio  did 
not  send  her,  at  least,  a  riviere  of  brilliants.  King  Florestan 
atid  his  queen  sent  olTcrings  worthy  of  their  resplendent  throne 
and  their  invaluable  friendship.  But  nothing  surpassed,  no- 
thing approached,  the  contents  of  a  casket,  which,  a  day  be- 
fore the  wedding,  arrived  at  Ilainault  house.  It  came  from 
a  foreign  land,  and  Waldershare  superintended  the  opening  of 
the  case,  and  the  appearance  of  a  casket  of  crimson  velvel,  with 
genuine  excitement.  But  when  it  was  opened  !  There  was 
a  coronet  of  brilliants ;  a  necklace  of  brilliants  and  emeralds, 
and  one  of  sapphires  and  brilliants;  and  dazzling  bracelets, 
and  all  the  stones  more  than  precious ;  gems  of  CJolconda  no 
longer  obtainable,  and  lustrous  companions  which  only  could 
have  been  created  in  the  hot  earth  of  Asia.  From  whom  ? 
Not  a  glimpse  of  meaning.  All  that  was  written,  in  a  foreign 
handwriting  on  a  sheet  of  notc-pM})er,  wtis,  *'  For  the  T-ady  Vis- 
countess Waldershare. " 

*'  When  the  revolution  comes,''  said  Lord  Ilainault,  *•  Lord 
"Waldershare  and  my  daughter  must  turn  jewelers.  Their  stock 
in  trade  is  ready." 

The  correspondence  between  Lady  Montfort  and  Endymicn 
had  resumed  its  ancient  habit.  They  Avrote  to  each  otlier 
every  day,  and  one  day  she  told  him  that  she  had  purchased  a 
house,  and  that  she  must  come  up  to  town  to  examine  and 
furnish  it.  She  probably  should  be  a  month  in  London,  and 
remaining  there  until  the  end  of  the  season,  in  whose  amuse- 
ments and  business,  of  course,  she  could  not  share.  She  should 
"  be  at  papa's,"  though  he  and  his  family  were  in  town  ;  but 
that  was  no  reason  why  Endymion  should  not  call  on  hor. 
And  he  came,  and  called  every  day.  Lady  Montfort  was  full 
of  her  new  house  ;  it  was  in  Carlton  Gardens,  the  house  she 
always  wished,  always  intended  to  have.  There  is  nothing 
like  will ;  everybody  can  do  exactly  what  they  like  in  this 
world,  provided  they  really  like  it.  Sometimes  they  think 
they  do,  but  in  general,  it  is  a  mistake.  Lady  Montfort,  it 
seemed,  was  a  woman  who  always  could  do  what  she  liked. 
She  could  do  what  she  liked  with  Endymion  FerraxS  ;  that  was 


I 


l^li 


i 


M 


i 


?i  r ' 


456 


EXDYMIOX. 


quite  certain.  Supposed  by  men  to  have  a  ^strong  Avill  and  a 
calm  Judi^ment,  he  was  a  nose  of  wax  witli  tliis  woman.  lie 
was  fascinated  by  her,  and  he  had  been  fascinated  now  for 
nearly  ten  years.  What  would  be  the  result  of  this  irresistible 
iniluence  upon  him  ?  Would  it  make  or  m;ir  those  fortunes 
that  once  seemed  so  promising  ?  The  ])hilosophers  of  White's 
and  the  Coventry  Avere  generally  of  opinion  that  he  had  no 
chance. 

Lady  Montfort  was  busy  every  morning  with  her  new  house, 
but  she  never  asked  Endymion  to  accompany  her,  though  it 
seemed  natural  to  do  so.  But  he  saw  her  every  day,  and 
*'papa,"  who  was  a  most  kind  and  courtly  gentleman,  would 
often  ask  him,  ''if  he  had  nothing  better  to  do,"  to  dine  there, 
and  he  dined  there  frecpiently  ;  and  if  he  were  engaged,  he 
was  always  of  opinion  that  he  had  nothing  better  to  do. 

At  last,  however,  the  sea.ion  was  over  ;  the  world  had  gone 
to  Goodwood,  and  Lady  Monttort  was  about  to  depart  to 
Princedown.  It  was  a  dreary  prospect  for  Endymion,  and  ho 
could  not  conceal  his  feelings.  He  could  not  he^p  saying  one 
dav,  "  Do  you  know,  now  that  you  are  going  I  almost  wish  to 
die." 

Alas  !  she  only  laughed.  But  he  looked  grave.  "  I  am 
ve:'>  unhappy,"  he  sighed  rather  than  uttered. 

She  looked  at  him  with  seriousness.  "  I  do  not  think  our 
separation  need  bo  very  long,  Papa  and  all  my  family  are 
coming  to  me  in  September  to  pay  me  a  very  long  visit.  I 
really  do  not  see  why  you  should  not  come  too." 

Endymion's  countenance  mantled  with  rapture.  "  If  I 
might  come,  I  think  I  should  be  the  happiest  of  men  ! " 

The  month  that  was  to  elapse  before  his  visit,  Endymion 
was  reall}^  as  he  said,  the  happiest  of  men  ;  at  least,  the  world 
thought  him  so.  He  seemed  to  walk  upon  tiptoe.  Parlia- 
ment was  prorogued,  office  was  consigned  to  permanent  secre- 
taries, and  our  youthful  statesman  seemed  only  to  live  to  enjov, 
and  add  to,  the  revelry  of  existence.  Now  at  Cowes,  now 
stalking  in  the  highlands,  dincing  at  balls  in  the  wilderness, 
and  running  races  of  fantastic  feats,  full  of  health,  and  frolic, 
and  charm  ;  he  was  the  delight  of  society,  while,  the  whole 


A   DAY  IX  LOXDOX. 


457 


ill  and  a 
lan.     lie 

now  for 
•resistible 

fortunes 
e  White's 
i  had  no 

}W  liousc, 
hough  it 
lav,  and 
n,  would 
ne  there, 
laged,  he 

Iiad  gone 
epart  to 
,  and  he 
ving  one 
t  wish  to 

''I  am 

liink  our 
mily  are 
visit.     I 


(( 


If  I 


idvmion 
le  world 
Parlia- 
;it  secre- 
0  enjoy, 
es,  now 
dorncss, 
d  frolic, 
whole 


time,  he  had  only  one  thought,  and  that  was  the  sacred  day 
when  ho  should  again  see  the  being  whom  he  adored,  and  that 
in  her  beautiful  home,  which  her  presence  made  more  lovely. 

Yes  !  he  was  again  at  Princedown,  in  the  bosom  of  i;er 
family ;  none  others  there  ;  treated  like  one  of  themselves. 
The  courtly  father  pressed  his  hand  ;  the  amiable  and  refined 
mother  smiled  upon  him  ;  the  daughters,  pretty,  and  natural 
as  the  air,  treated  him  as  if  they  were  sisters,  and  even  the 
eldest  son,  who  generally  hates  you,  after  a  little  stiffness,  an- 
nounced in  a  tone  never  questioned  under  the  family  roof,  that 
'"  Ferrars  was  a  first-rate  shot." 

And  so  a  month  rolled  on  ;  immensely  ha])py,  as  any  man 
who  has  loved,  and  loved  in  a  beautiful  scene,  alone  can  under- 
stand. One  morning  Lady  Montfort  said  to  him,  "  I  must  go 
up  to  London  about  my  house.  I  want  to  go  and  return  tho 
same  day.  Do  you  know,  I  think  you  had  better  come  with 
me  ?  You  shall  give  me  a  luncheon  in  Hill  Street,  and  we 
shall  be  back  by  the  last  train.  It  will  be  late,  but  we  shall 
wake  in  the  morning  in  the  country,  and  that  I  always  think  a 
great  thing." 

And  so  it  happened  ;  they  rose  early  and  arrived  in  town 
in  time  to  give  them  a  tolerably  long  morning.  She  took  him 
to  her  house  in  Carlton  Gardens,  and  showed  to  him  exactly 
how  it  Avas  all  she  wanted  ;  accommodation  for  a  first-rate 
establishment ;  and  then  the  reception  rooms,  few  houses  in 
London  could  compare  with  them  ;  a  gallery  and  three  saloons. 
Then  they  descended  to  the  dining-room.  "  It  is  a  dining- 
room,  not  a  banqueting  hall,"  she  said,  "  which  we  had  at 
Montfort  House,  but  still  it  is  much  larger  than  most  dining- 
rooms  in  London.  But,  1  think  this  room,  at  least  I  hope  you 
do,  quite  charming,"  and  she  took  him.  to  a  room  almost  as 
large  as  the  dining-room,  and  looking  into  the  garden.  It  was 
fitted  up  with  exquisite  taste  ;  calm  subdued  coloring,  with 
choice  marble  busts  of  statesmen,  ancient  and  of  our  times, 
but  the  shelves  were  empty. 

**  They  are  empty,"  she  said,  ''but  the  volumes  to  fill  them 
are  ti. ready  collected.     Yes,"  she  added  in  a  tremulous  voice, 
and  slightly  pressing  the  arm  on  which  she  leant.     **If  yon 
20 


458 


EXDYMION. 


will  deign  to  accept  it,  this  is  the  chamber  I  have  prepared  for 
you." 

"  Dearest  of  women  ! "  and  he  took  her  hand. 

''Yes,"  she  murmured,  "help  me  to  realize  the  dream  of 
my  life  ; "  and  she  touched  his  forehead  with  her  lijjs. 


CHAPTER   XCIX. 


li  '• 


I 


The  marriage  of  Mr.  Fcrrars  with  Lady  Montfort  surprised 
some,  but,  on  the  whole,  pleased  everybody.  They  were  both 
of  them  popular,  and  no  one  seemed  to  envy  them  their  happi- 
ness and  prosperity.  The  union  took  place  at  a  season  of  the 
year  wher.  there  was  no  London  world  to  observe  and  to  criti- 
cise. It  was  a  quiet  ceremony  ;  they  -went  down  to  Northum- 
berland to  Lady  Montfort's  father,  and  they  were  married  in 
his  private  chapel.  After  that  they  went  off  immediately  to 
pay  a  visit  to  King  Florestan  and  his  queen  ;  Myra  had  sent 
her  a  loving  letter. 

''  Perhaps  it  will  be  the  first  time  that  your  sister  ever  saw 
me  A^  itli  satisfaction,"  re;narked  Lady  Montfort,  ''  but  I  think 
she  will  love  me  now  !  I  always  loved  her  ;  perhaps  because 
she  is  so  like  you." 

It  was  a  happy  meeting  and  a  delightful  visit.  They  did 
not  talk  much  of  the  past.  The  enormous  change  in  the  posi- 
tion of  their  host  and  hostess  since  the  first  days  of  their  ac- 
fjuaintance,  and,  on  their  own  part,  some  indefinite  feeling  of 
delicate  reserve,  combined  to  make  them  rather  dwell  on  a 
present  which  w'as  full  of  novelty  so  attractive  and  so  absorb- 
ing. In  his  manner,  the  king  Avas  unchanged  ;  he  was  never 
a  demonstrative  person,  but  simple,  unaffected,  rather  silent, 
with  a  sweet  temper  and  a  tender  manner,  he  seemed  to  be 
gratified  that  he  had  the  poAvcr  of  conferring  happiness  on 
those  around  him.  His  feeling  to  his  queen  was  one  of  idola- 
try, and  she  received  Berengaria  as  a  sister  and  a  much  loA'ed 
one.     Their  presence  and  the  season  of  the  year  made  their 


A   PAPAL  BULL. 


459 


pared  for 


dream  of 


surprised 
tvcre  both 
3ir  happi- 
on  of  the 
:1  to  eriti- 
S^orthum- 
larried  in 
diately  to 
liad  sent 

•  ever  saw 
it  I  think 
)s  because 

They  did 

the  posi- 

their  ac- 

feeling  of 

svell  on  a 

;o  absorb- 

^vas  never 

ler  silent, 

led  to  be 

piness  on 

of  idohi- 

uch  loved 

lade  their 


life  a  festival,  and  when  they  parted,  there  were  entreaties  and 
promises  that  the  visit  should  be  often  repeated. 

''Adieu!  ray  Endymion,"  said  Myra  at  the  last  moment 
they  were  alone.  "All  has  happened  for  you  beyond  my 
hopes ;  all  now  is  safe.  I  might  wish  we  \vere  in  the  same 
land,  but  not  if  I  lost  my  husband,  whom  I  adore." 

The  reason  that  forced  tliem  to  curtail  their  royal  visit  was 
the  state  of  politics  at  home,  Avhich  had  suddenly  become  criti- 
cal. There  were  symptoms,  and  considerable  ones,  of  disturlj- 
ance  and  danger  when  they  departed  for  their  wedding  tcnir, 
but  they  could  not  prevail  on  themselves  to  sacrifice  a  visit 
on  Avhich  they  had  counted  so  much,  and  which  could  not  be 
fulfilled  on  another  occasion  under  tlie  same  interesting  cir- 
cumstances. Besides,  the  position  of  Mr.  Ferrars,  thougli  an 
important,  was  a  subordinate  one,  and  though  cabinet  minis- 
ters were  not  justified  in  leaving  the  country,  an  under  secre- 
tary of  state  and  a  bridegroom  miglit,  it  would  seem,  depart  on 
his  irresponsible  holiday.  Mr.  Sidney  Wilton,  however,  shook 
his  head;  "I  do  not  like  tlic  state  of  affairs,"  he  said.  "I 
think  you  will  have  to  come  back  sooner  than  you  imagine." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  be  so  foolish  as  to  have  an  early 
session  ?"  inquired  Lady  Montfort. 

He  only  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  said,  "  We  are  in  a 
mess." 

What  mess  ?  and  Avhat  w^as  the  state  of  affairs  ? 

This  had  happened.  At  the  end  of  the  autumn,  his  lioli- 
ncss  the  pope  had  made  half  a  dozen  new  cardinals,  and  to  the 
surprise  of  the  world,  and  the  murmurs  of  the  Italians,  there 
appeared  among  them  the  name  of  an  Englishman,  Nigel  Pen- 
ruddock,  archbishop  in  partihus.  tShortly  after  tliis,  a  papal 
bull  "given  at  St.  Peter's,  Pome,  under  the  seal  of  the  fislioi-- 
man,"  was  issued,  establishing  a  Pomish  hierarchy  in  England. 
This  was  soon  followed  by  a  pastoral  letter  by  the  new  cardinal 
"given  out  of  the  Appian  Gate,"  announcing  that  "Catholic 
England  had  been  restored  to  its  orbit  in  the  ecclesiastical 
firmament." 

The  country  at  first  was  more  stupefied  than  alarmed.  It 
was  conscious  that  somethinc;  extraordi 


W 


1-7 


appei 


4G0 


ESDYMIOX. 


some  great  action  taken  by  an  ecclc>siastical  power,  which  from 
tradition  it  Avas  ever  inclined  to  view  with  susi)icion  and  some 
fear.  But  it  held  its  breatli  for  a  wliile.  It  so  happened  tliat 
the  prime  minister  was  a  member  of  a  great  house  Avhich  liad 
bec(nnc  ilhistrious  by  its  profession  of  Protestant  principles, 
and  even  by  its  sniferings  in  a  cause  which  England  had  once 
looked  on  as  sacred.  The  prime  minister,  a  man  of  distin- 
guislied  ability,  not  devoid  even  of  genius,  was  also  a  wily  jioli- 
tician,  and  of  almost  unrivaled  experience  in  the  management 
of  political  parties.  The  ministry  was  weak  md  nearly  worn 
out,  and  its  chief,  iniluenced  partly  by  nol  and  historical 
sentiments,  partly  by  a  conviction  that  he  hf  a  fine  occasion 
to  rally  the  confidence  of  the  country  round  himself  and  his 
friends,  and  to  restore  the  repute  of  his  political  connection, 
thought  fit,  without  consulting  his  colleagues,  to  publish  a 
manifesto  denouncing  the  aggression  oi  the  pope  upon  our 
Protestantism  as  insolent  and  insidious,  and  as  expressing  a 
pretension  of  supremacy  over  the  realm  of  England  wh">b  made 
the  minister  indignant. 

A  confuted  public  wanted  to  be  led,  and  now  they  were  led. 
They  sprang  to  their  feet  like  an  armed  man.  The  corporation 
of  London,  the  universities  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge  had 
audiences  of  the  Queen;  the  counties  met,  the  municipalities 
menu)rialized  ;  before  the  first  of  January  there  had  been  held 
nearly  seven  thousand  public  meetings,  asserting  the  supremacy 
of  the  Queen,  and  calling  on  Iler  Majesty's  Government  to  vin- 
dicate it  by  stringent  measures. 

Unfortunately,  it  was  soon  discovered  by  the  minister  that 
there  had  l)een  nothing  illegal  in  the  conduct  of  the  pope  or 
the  cardinal,  and  a  considerable  portion  of  the  Liberal  party 
began  to  express  the  inconvenient  opinion,  that  the  manifesto 
of  tlieir  chief  was  opposed  to  those  principles  of  civil  and  reli- 
gious liberty  of  which  he  was  the  hereditary  champion.  Some 
influential  members  of  his  own  cabinet  did  not  conceal  their 
disa))|)robation  of  a  step  on  Avhich  they  had  not  been  r^onsulted. 

Tmmcdiately  after  Christmas,  Endvmionand  Lndy  Al^nrcforl: 
settled  in  London.  She  was  anxious  to  open  her  n.  m  mansion 
as  soon  as  Parliament  met,  and  to  organ!  -c  continib'i's  r  i  cp- 


A  cnisis. 


A' A 


I'll  from 
lcI  some 
led  tliat 
icli  luid 
nciples, 
ad  once 
'  distin- 
ily  poli- 
igcment 
•ly  worn 
istoriciil 
occasion 
and  his 
nection, 
ublisli  a 
pon  our 
■essing  a 
oil  made 

vcre  led. 
poration 
ige  had 

ipalities 
ecn  held 
premacy 

t  to  vin- 

ibtcr  that 
pope  or 

al  party 
anifesto 
lud  reli- 
Some 
al  their 
rmnltcd. 

niau?iou 
s  iM op- 


tions. Slie  looked  upon  the  ministry  a>  in  a  critical  state,  and 
thought  it  was  an  occasion  when  social  influences  miuiit  not 
inconsiderably  assist  them 

But  though  she  exhibited  for  t]iis  object  her  wonted  energy 
and  high  spirit,  a  fine  observer — Mr.  Sidney  Wilton  for  exam- 
])le — might  have  detected  a  change  in  the  manner  of  Berenga- 
ria.  Tliough  the  strength  of  her  character  was  unaltered,  there 
was  an  absence  of  that  restlessness,  it  might  be  said,  that  some- 
what feverish  excitement,  from  Avhich  formerly  she  was  not  al- 
Avays  free.  The  truth  is  her  heart  was  satisiied,  and  that  brought 
repose.  Feelings  of  affection,  long  mortitied  and  pont  up,  were 
now  lavished  and  concentrated  on  a  husband  of  her  heart  and 
adoration,  and  she  was  proud  that  his  success  and  greatness 
might  be  avowed  as  the  objects  of  her  life. 

The  campaign,  however,  for  wliich  such  i)reparations  were 
made,  ended  almost  before  it  l^eg-m.  The  ministry,  on  ■.'m 
meeting  of  Parliament,  found  themselves  with  a  discontented 
House  of  ComiUions,  and  discordant  counsels  among  themselves. 
The  anti-papal  manifesto  was  the  secret  cause  of  this  evil  state, 
but  the  prime  minister,  to  avoid  sucli  a  mortifying  admission, 
took  advantage  of  two  unfavorable  divisions  on  other  matters, 
iind  resigned. 

Here  was  a  crisis — another  crisis  I  Could  the  untried  Pi-o- 
tectionists  without  men  form  an  administration  ?  It  was  whis- 
l)ered  that  Lord  Derby  had  been  sent  for  aiul  declined  the  at- 
tempt. Then  'here  was  another  rumor  that  he  was  going  to 
try.  Mr.  Bertie  Tremaine  looked  mysterious.  The  time  for 
the  third  party  had  clearly  arrived.  It  was  known  that  he  had 
the  list  of  the  next  ministry  in  his  l)reast-;^.'Cket,  but  it  was 
only  shown  to  ]\[r.  Tremaine  Bertie,  who  confided  in  secrecy  to 
the  initiated  that  it  was  the  strongest  government  since  '•'  All 
the  Talents.'^ 

Notwithstanding  this  great  opi^ortunity,  ''All  the  Talents'' 
wc'e  not  summoned.  The  leader  of  the  Protectionists  re- 
nounced the  attempt  in  despair,  and  the  auth.or  of  the  anti-]ia])al 
manifesto  Avas  again  sent  for,  a''  obliged  to  introduce  the 
measure  which  had  already  destroyed  a  government  and  disor- 
;ganized  a  party. 


4G2 


EXDYMIOX. 


i 


m 


I 


''Sidney  Wilton,"  .suid  Lady  !Montfort  to  her  husband, 
"eay.s  that  they  arc  in  the  mud,  and  he  for  one  will  not  go 
back — but  he  will  go.  I  know  him.  He  is  too  soft-hearted  to 
stand  an  appeal  from  colleagues  in  distress.  But  Avere  I  you, 
Endymion,  I  would  not  return.  I  think  you  want  a  little  rest, 
or  you  have  got  a  great  deal  of  private  business  to  attend  to, 
or  something  of  that  kind.  Nobody  notices  the  withdrawal  of 
an  under  secretary  except  those  in  office.  There  is  no  neces- 
sity why  you  should  be  in  the  mud.  I  will  continue  to  receive, 
and  do  everything  that  is  possible  for  our  friends,  but  I  think 
my  husband  has  been  an  under  secretary  long  enough." 

Endymion  (|uite  agreed  with  his  wife.  The  minister  of- 
fered him  preferment  and  the  Privy  Council,  but  Lady  Mont- 
fort  said  it  was  really  not  so  imj)ortant  as  the  office  he  had 
resigned.  She  was  re.-olvcd  that  he  should  not  return  to  them, 
and  she  had  her  way.  Ferrars  himself  now  occupied  a  rather 
peculiar  position,  being  the  master  of  a  great  fortune  and  of 
an  establishment  which  was  the  headquarters  of  the  party  of 
which  he  was  now  only  a  private  member  ;  but  calm  and  col- 
lected he  did  not  lose  his  head  ;  always  said  and  did  the  right 
thing,  and  never  forgot  his  early  acquaintances.  Trenehard 
Avas  his  bosom  political  friend.  Seymour  Ilicks,  who  through 
Endymion's  kindness  had  now  got  into  the  Treasury,  and  was 
quite  fashionable,  had  the  run  of  the  House,  and  made  himself 
marvelously  useful,  while  St.  Barbe,  who  had  become  by  mis- 
take a  member  of  the  Conservative  club,  drank  his  frequent 
claret  cup  every  Saturday  evening  at  Lady  Montfort's  recep- 
tions with  many  i)ledges  to  the  welfare  of  the  Liberal  adminis- 
tration. 

The  flag  of  the  Tory  jiarty  waved  over  the  magniiiccnt 
mansion  of  Avhicli  Lnogenc  Beaumaris  was  the  graceful  life. 
As  parties  were  nearly  equal,  and  the  ministry  was  sujiposed 
to  be  in  decay,  the  rival  reception  was  as  well  attended  as  that 
of  Berengaria.  The  tAVO  great  leaders  were  friends,  intimate, 
but  not  perhaps  quite  so  intiniati'  as  a  few  years  before.  "  Lady 
Montfort  is  very  kind  to  me,"  Imogeuo  would  say,  "but  I  do 
not  think  she  now  (juite  remembers  avc  arc  cousins."  Both 
Lord  and  Lady  Waldersharc  si'.'mcd  equally  devoted  to  r^ady 


IIAPPIXESS. 


4G3 


Beaumaris.  '•'!  do  not  think/' he  would  say,  '•  tliat  I  shall 
ever  get  Adriana  to  receive.  It  is  an  organic  gift,  and  very 
rare.  What  I  mean  to  do  is  to  have  a  first-rate  villa  and  give 
the  party  straAvberrics.  I  always  say  Adriana  is  like  Nell  Gwyn, 
and  she  shall  go  about  with  a  jiottle.  One  never  sees  a  pottle 
of  strawberries  now.  I  believe  they  went  out,  like  all  good 
things,  with  the  Stuarts." 

And  so,  after  all  these  considerable  events,  the  season  rolled 
on  and  closed  tranquilly.  Lord  and  Lady  Hainault  continued 
to  give  banquets,  over  Avhicli  the  hostess  sighed  ;  Sir  Peter 
Vigo  had  the  wisdom  to  retain  his  millions,  which  few  manage 
to  do,  as  it  is  admitted  that  it  is  easier  to  make  a  fortune  than 
to  keep  one.  Mrs.  Kodney,  supremely  habited,  still  drove  her 
ponies,  looking  younger  and  prettier  ilian  ever,  and  getting 
more  fashionable  every  day,  and  Mr.  Ferrars  and  Berengaria, 
Countess  of  Montfort,  retired  in  the  summer  to  their  beautiful 
and  beloved  Princedown. 


i 


CUAl'TEPt  V. 

Altiiougii  the  jmst  life  of  Endymion  had,  on  the  whole, 
been  a  ha]ipy  life,  and  although  he  Avas  destined  also  to  a  hap- 
py future,  perhaps  the  four  years  Avhieh  elapsed  from  the  time 
he  quitted  office,  certainly  in  his  experience  had  never  been 
exceeded,  and  it  Avas  difficult  to  imagine  could  be  exceeded,  in 
felicity.  He  had  a  great  interest,  and  c\'en  groAA'ing  influence 
in  public  life  AAnthout  any  of  its  cares  ;  he  Avas  united  to  a  aa'O- 
n\an  Avhom  he  had  long  passionately  loA'ed,  and  Avho  had  cA'cry 
quality  and  accomplishment  to  make  existence  delightful ;  ho 
was  master  of  a  fortune  AA'hich  secured  him  all  those  advan- 
tages Avhich  are  appreciated  by  men  of  taste  and  generosity. 
lie  liecame  a  father,  and  a  family  name  Avhicli  had  been  origin- 
ally borne  by  a  courtier  of  the  elder  Stuarts  Avas  noAV  bestowed 
on  the  future  lord  of  PrinccdoAvn. 

Lady  Montfort  herself  had  no  thought  but  her  husband. 
Ilis  happiness,   his  enjoyment  of  existence,   his  success  and 


i 


4('4 


EXDYMIOX. 


power  in  life,  entirely  absorbed  licr.  Tlic  anxiety  which  slio 
felt  that  in  everything  he  shonld  be  muster  was  toucliing. 
Once  looked  upon  as  the  most  imperious  of  women,  she  would 
not  give  a  direction  on  any  matter  without  his  opinion  and 
.sanction.  One  would  have  su})poscd  from  what  might  be  ob- 
served under  their  roof,  that  she  was  some  beautiful  hut  por- 
tionless maiden  Avhom  Endvmion  had  raised  to  wealtli  and 
jiower. 

All  this  time,  however.  Lady  Montfort  sedulously  main- 
tained that  commanding  position  in  social  politics  for  which 
she  was  singularly  fitted.  Indeed,  in  that  respect,  she  had  no 
rival.  She  received  the  world  with  the  same  constancy  and 
sjilendor,  as  if  she  were  the  wife  of  a  minister.  Animtited  by 
"VValdershare,  Lady  Beaumaris  maintained  in  this  respect  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  rivalry.  She  was  the  only  hope  and  refuge  of 
the  Tories,  and  rich,  attractive,  and  popular,  her  competition 
could  not  be  disregarded.  V>\\i  Lord  Beaumaris  was  a  little 
freakish.  Sometimes  he  would  sail  in  his  yacht  to  odd  places, 
and  Avas  at  Algiers  or  in  Egy]it  when,  according  to  Tadpole,  he 
ought  to  have  been  at  Piccadilly  Ternicc.  Then  ho  occasion- 
ally got  crusty  about  his  hunliiig.  He  would  hunt  Avhatever 
\;qyq  the  political  consecpUMM'es,  but  Avhelher  he  were  in  Afiica 
or  Leicestershire,  Lnogcne  must  be  with  him.  lie  could  not 
exist  with(UTt  her  constant  presence.  There  was  something  in 
lu>r  gentleness,  combined  with  her  quick  and  ready  sympathy 
iind  playfulness  of  mind  and  manner,  which  alike  i)leased  and 
soothed  liis  life. 

Till*  Whigs  tottered  on  for  a  year  after  the  rude  assault  of 
C^ii'diiial  I'eiiruddock,  but  they  were  doomed,  and  the  Protec- 
lionists  were  called  upon  to  form  an  administration.  As  they 
had  no  one  in  (lu'ir  lilljks  who  had  ever  been  in  office  exceitt 
Ihi  il'i'lilef,  uhe  was  lU  (lie  ||o||Hii  nf  hitt'ils,  I  he  affair  seemed 
impoHMlble.  The  nttpt11|l|,  ||l1Wt'V0t'i  MM  Hot  be  avoided.  A 
dozen  men,  Avitholll  iheBllglilestexjjerienceof  ofWcial  life,  had  to 
be  sworn  in  as  privy  councilors,  before  even  they  could  receive 
the  seals  and  insignia  of  their  intended  offices.  On  their  knees, 
according  to  the  constitutional  custom,  a  dozen  men,  all  in  the 
act  of  genuflection  at  the  same  moment,  and  headed,  too,  l)y 


MR.   LKUTIE  TUEMMXE-^   KIEV  AT  I  OX. 


465 


hicli  she 
oucliing. 
lie  would 
lion  and 
it  be  ob- 
l)iit  por- 
tiltli  and 

ly  niain- 
or  wliieli 
3  had  no 
mcy  and 
natcd  by 
;ct  a  ccr- 
efiige  of 

I  petition 
i  a  little 
:1  places, 
Ipolc,  lie 
)ccasion- 
vliatover 
n  Africa 
)ukl  not 
\\\v.^  \\\ 
■mpatliv 
iscd  and 

sault  of 
Protcc- 
A.S  they 

D  except 
seemed 

led.     A 

},  had  to 
receive 

r  knees, 

II  in  the 
too,  i)y 


one  of  the  most  powerful  peers  ii:  the  country,  the  Lord  of 
Alnwick  Castle  himself,  humbled  themselves  before  a  female 
Sovereign,  who  looked  serene  and  imperturbable  before  a  spec- 
tacle never  seen  before,  and  wliieh,  in  all  i)robal)ility,  will  never 
be  seen  again. 

One  of  this  band,  a  gentlenian  without  any  official  exin'ri- 
cnce  whatever,  Avas  not  only  i»laced  in  the  cabinet,  but  wa.s 
absolutely  required  to  become  the  leadtr  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, which  had  never  occurred  before.  exeo)»l  in  the  iuHtaiieu 
of  Mr.  Pitt  in  lTh2.  It  has  \\\\'\\  Miiid  that  it  was  unwise  in 
the  Protectionists  a>'^uuHni''  office  when,  on  this  occasion  and 
on  subsequent  ones,  ^hey  were  far  from  bcini;'  certain  of  a  ma- 
jority in  the  House  of  Conimon«.  It  should,  hoAvever,  bo 
reniLinbered,  that  unless  they  luul  dared  these  ventures,  they 
never  could  have  formed  a  bodv  of  men  competent  from  their 
official  experience  and  their  practice  in  debate,  to  form  a  min- 
istry. The  result  Las  rather  proved  that  they  were  i-ight. 
Had  they  continued  'o  refrain  from  incurring  responsibility, 
they  must  have  broken  up  and  merged  in  ditferent  connections, 
which  for  a  party  numerically  so  strong  as  the  Protectionists, 
would  have  been  a  sorry  business,  and  probaldy  have  led  to 
disastrous  results. 

j\rr.  Bertie  Tremaine  having  been  requested  to  call  on  the 
Protectionist  prime  minister,  accordingly  impaired  to  head- 
quarters with  the  list  of  his  colleagues  in  his  pocket.  He  wa.s 
offered  for  himself  a  post  of  little  real  importance,  but  whicli 
secured  to  him  the  dignity  of  the  privy  council.  Mr.  Ti'e- 
maine  Bertie  and  several  of  his  friends  had  assembled  at  his 
house,  aAvaiting  with  anxiety  his  return.  He  had  to  conimiiiii- 
cate  to  them  that  he  had  been  offered  a  privy  councilor's  po-t. 
and  to  break  to  them  that  it  was  not  proposed  to  ]u'ovide  for 
any  other  member  of  his  party.  Their  indignation  was  tx- 
trenie  ;  but  they  naturally  supposed  that  he  had  rejected  the 
offer  to  himself  with  becoming  scorn.  Their  leader,  however, 
informed  them  tiiat  he  had  not  fVlt  it  his  duty  to  be  so  i)er- 
emptory.  They  should  rememlicr  that  the  recognition  of  their 
political  status  by  such  an  offer  to  their  chief  was  a  consider- 
able event.     For  his  part,  he  had  for  some  time  been  i)ainfully 


400 


EXUVMIOy. 


inviiro  that  tlic  inllucncc  of  the  lluiiso  of  Commons  in  tlio  con- 
stitution;,. >;chem(3  was  fast  waiiini^',  and  that  the  pUm  of  Sir 
William  Tomi)le  for  the  reorganization  of  the  privy  council, 
:muI  depositing  in  it  tlie  real  authority  of  th^  >Statc,  wa.s  that  to 
whicli  we  i^houkl  bo  obh'ged  to  have  recour.->e.  This  oll'er  to 
liini  of  a  scat  in  the  council  was,  perhaps,  the  beginning  of  the 
cud.  It  Avas  a  crisis;  they  must  look  to  seats  in  the  privy 
couiieil,  which,  under  Sir  William  Temide's  plan,  would  bo 
aeiompanied  with  ministerial  duties  and  salaries.  What  they 
]i;id  all,  at  one  time,  wished,  had  not  exactly  been  accom})lished, 
but  lie  had  felt  it  his  duty  to  his  friends  not  to  shrink  from 
responsibility.     So  he  had  accepted  the  ministers  offer. 

.Mr.  liertie  Treniaine  was  not  long  in  the  busy  enjoyment 
of  his  easy  post.  Then  the  country  Avas  governed  for  two  years 
liy  all  its  ablest  men,  who,  by  the  end  of  that  term  luid  suc- 
ceeded, by  their  coalesced  genius,  in  reducing  that  country  to 
a  state  of  desolation  and  des])air.  "I  did  not  think  it  Avould 
have  lasted  even  so  long,"  said  Lady  Montfort ;  **but  then  I 
was  ac(juainted  Avith  their  mutual  hatreds  and  their  charac- 
teristic weaknesses.  "What  is  to  liai)pen  noAV  ?  Somebody 
must  be  found  of  commanding  private  character  and  position, 
and  Avith  as  little  damaged  a  iniblic  one,  as  in  this  Avreck  of 
reputations  is  possible.  I  sec  nobody  but  Sidney  Wilton. 
Everybody  likes  him,  and  he  is  the  only  man  Avho  could  bring 
poople  together." 

And  CA'crybody  seemed  to  be  saying  the  same  thing  at  the  same 
time.  The  name  of  Sidney  AVilton  Avas  in  CA'crybody's  month. 
It  Avas  nnfortunate  that  he  had  been  a  member  of  the  defunct 
ministry,  but  then  it  had  ahv^ays  been  understood  that  he  had 
ahvays  disapi)roA'ed  of  all  their  measures.  There  aaiis  not  the 
slightest  evidence  of  this,  but  CA'crybody  chose  to  belicA'c  it. 

Sidney  Wilton  Avas  chagrined  Avith  life  and  had  become  a 
martyr  to  the  gout,  which  that  chagrin  had  aggraA'uted  ;  but 
he  Avas  a  great  gentleman,  and  too  chiA'alric  to  refuse  a  royal 
command  Avlien  the  SoA'creign  was  in  distress.  Sidney  Wilton 
became  Premier,  and  the  first  colleague  he  recommended  to 
fill  the  most  important  post  after  his  OAvn,  the  Secretaryship  of 
State  for  Foreign  Affairs,  Avas  Mr.  Fernirs. 


A  sTiiOxa  r;ovj:i:.\M/:.\7\ 


407 


"It  ouglit  to  last  toil  years,"  said  Lady  MonU'ort.  "  I  soo 
no  danger  except  his  liealth.  I  never  knew  a  man  so  changed. 
At  liis  time  of  life  five  years  ought  to  make  no  dilTerencc  in  a 
man.  I  can  not  believe  he  is  the  person  who  used  to  give  us 
those  charming  parties  at  Gaydcnc.  Whatever  you  may  say, 
Endymion,  I  feel  convinced  that  something  must  h:i  ^  pasiscd 
between  your  sister  and  him.  Xeitlier  of  them  ever  gave  me  a 
hint  of  such  a  matter,  or  of  the  possibilit  .  oi  its  ever  happcn- 
ing,  but  feminine  instinct  assures  me  that  somethin'/  look  place, 
lie  always  had  the  gout,  and  his  ancestors  have  had  the  gout 
for  a  cou})le  of  centuries  ;  and  all  prime  jninistcrs  have  the 
gout.  I  dare  say  you  will  not  escape,  darling,  but  I  hojie  it 
will  never  make  you  look  as  if  you  had  just  lost  par  ulise,  or, 
what  would  bo  worse,  become  the  last  man."' 

Lady  Montfort  Avas  right.  The  ministry  was  strong  and  it 
Avas  popular.  There  were  no  Jcalou<ies  in  it;  every  member 
was  devoted  to  his  chief,  and  felt  that  he  Avas  rightly  the  chief, 
whereas,  as  Lady  Montfort  said,  the  "Whigs  never  had  a  minis- 
try before  m  which  there  Avere  not  at  h  ;i-*  a  coui»le  of  men  Avho 
had  been  prime  ministers,  and  as  many  more  Avho  thought  they 
ouglit  to  be. 

There  AA'cre  years  of  Avar,  and  of  vast  and  critical  negotia- 
tions. Ferrars  Avas  erpial  to  the  duties,  for  he  had  much  expe- 
rience, and  more  thought,  and  he  avus  greatly  aided  by  the 
knoAvledge  of  affairs,  and  the  clear  and  tranrpiil  judgment  of 
the  chief  minister.  There  A\'as  only  one  subject  on  Avhich  there 
AA'as  not  betAveen  them  that  complete  and  cordial  unanimity 
which  was  so  agreeable  and  satisfactory.  And  CA'cn  in  this 
case,  there  was  no  difference  of  opinion,  but  rather  of  senti- 
ment and  feeling.  It  Avas  when  King  Florcstan  expressed  his 
desire  to  join  the  grand  alliance,  and  become  our  active  mili- 
tary ally.  It  was  perhaps  impossible,  under  any  circumstances, 
for  the  Powers  to  refuse  such  an  offer,  but  Endymion  Avas 
strongly  in  favor  of  accepting  it.  It  consolidated  our  interests 
in  a  part  of  Europe  Avhere  Ave  required  sympathy  and  supjiort, 
and  it  secured  for  us  the  aid  and  influence  of  the  great  liberal 
party  of  the  continent  as  distinguished  from  the  secret  societies 
and  the  socialist  republicans.     The   Count  of  Ferroll,  also. 


V] 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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23  WEST  MAIN  STRECT 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872.4503 


<> 


408 


END  YMF  ON. 


whose  opinion  weighed  much  with  Her  Majesty's  Government, 
was  decidedly  in  favor  of  the  combination.  The  Enghsh  prime 
minister  listened  to  tlieir  representations  frigidly  ;  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  refute  the  arguments  which  were  adverse  to  iiis  own 
feelings,  and  to  resist  the  unanimous  opinion  not  only  of  his 
colleagues,  hut  of  our  allies.  But  he  was  cold  and  silent,  or 
made  discouraging  remarks. 

"Can  you  trust  him?"  he  would  say.  "Remember  ho 
himself  has  been,  and  still  is,  a  member  of  the  very  secret  so- 
cieties whose  baneful  influence  we  are  now  told  he  will  neu- 
tralize or  subdue.  Whatever  the  cabinet  decides,  and  I  fear 
that  with  this  strong  expression  of  opinion  on  the  part  of  our 
allies  we  have  little  option  left,  remember  I  gave  you  my  warn- 
ing.    I  know  the  gentleman,  and  I  do  not  trust  him." 

After  this,  the  prime  minister  had  a  most  severe  attack  of 
the  gout,  remained  for  weeks  at  Gaydene,  and  saw  no  one  on 
business  except  Endymion  and  Baron  Sergius. 

While  the  time  is  elapsing  which  can  alono  decide  whether 
the  distrust  of  Mr.  Wilton  were  well  founded  or  the  reverse, 
let  us  see  how  the  world  is  treating  the  rest  of  our  friends. 

Lord  Waldershare  did  not  make  such  a  pattern  husband  as 
Endymion,  but  he  made  a  much  better  one  than  the  world 
ever  supposed  he  would.  Had  he  married  Berengaria,  the 
failure  would  have  been  great ;  but  he  was  united  to  a  being 
capable  of  deep  affection  and  very  sensitive,  yet  grateful  for 
kindness  from  a  husband  to  a  degree  not  easily  imaginable. 
And  Waldershare  had  really  a  good  heart,  though  a  bad  tem- 
per, and  he  was  a  gentleman.  Besides,  he  had  a  great  admira- 
tion and  some  awe  of  his  father-in-law,  and  Lord  Ilainault, 
Avith  his  good-natured  irony,  and  consummate  knowledge  of 
men  and  things,  quite  controlled  him.  With  Lady  Hainault 
lie  was  a  favorite.  He  invented  plausible  theories  and  brilliant 
paradoxes  for  her,  which  left  her  always  in  a  state  of  charmed 
wonder,  and  when  she  met  him  again,  and  adopted  or  refuted 
thorn,  for  her  intellectual  power  was  considerable,  he  furnished 
her  Avith  fresh  dogmas  and  tenets,  Avhich  immediately  inter- 
ested her  intelligence,  though  slio  generally  forgot  to  observe 
that  they  Avcre  contrary  to  the  views  and  principles  of  the  last 


SUCCESS  OF  OLD  FRIEXDS. 


469 


visit.  Between  Adriana  and  Imogene  there  was  a  close  alli- 
ance, and  Lady  Beaumaris  did  everything  in  her  power  to  de- 
velop Lady  Waldersharc  advantageously  before  her  husband  ; 
and  so,  not  forgetting  that  Waldershare,  with  his  romance,  and 
imagination,  and  fancy,  and  tasii?..  and  caprice,  had  a  consid- 
erable clement  of  worldliness  in  his  character,  and  tliat  lie 
liked  to  feel  that,  from  living  in  lodgings,  he  had  become  a 
Monte  Christo,  his  union  with  Adriana  may  be  said  to  be  a 
happy  and  successful  one. 

The  friendship  between  8ir  Peter  Vigo  and  his  brother 
M.  P.,  Mr.  Bodney,  never  diminished,  and  ^Ir.  Bodney  became 
richer  every  year,  lie  experienced  considerable  remorse  at 
sitting  in  o})position  to  the  son  of  his  right  honorable  friend, 
the  late  William  Pitt  Ferrars,  and  frequently  consulted  Sir 
Peter  on  his  embarrassment  and  dilliculty.  Sir  Peter,  wlio 
never  declined  arranging  any  difliculty,  told  his  friend  to  be 
easy,  and  that  he,  Sir  Peter,  saw  his  way.  It  became  gradu- 
ally understood,  that  if  ever  the  govcvnment  was  in  dillicultics, 
Mr.  Bodney's  vote  might  be  counted  on.  lie  was  peculiarly 
situated,  for,  in  a  certain  sense,  his  friend  the  right  honorable 
William  Pitt  Ferrars  had  intrusted  the  gu;;rdianship  of  his 
child  to  his  caro.  But  whenever  the  ministry  was  not  in  dan- 
ger, the  ministry  must  not  depend  upon  his  vote. 

Trenchard  had  become  Secretary  of  tlie  Treasury  in  tlic 
Wilton  administration,  had  established  his  reputation,  and  was 
looked  upon  as  a  future  minister.  Jawett,  without  forfeiting 
his  post  and  promotion  at  Somerset  House,  had  become  the 
editor  of  a  n-,\v  periodical  magazine,  called  the  "Privy  Coun- 
cil." It  was  established  and  maintained  by  Mr.  Bertie  Tre- 
maine,  and  was  chiefly  written  by  that  gentleman  iiimself.  It 
was  full  of  Greek  ({notations,  to  show  that  it  was  not  Grul) 
Street,  and  written  in  a  style  as  like  that  of  Sir  A\  illiam  Tem- 
ple, as  a  paper  in  *' Bejected  Addresses"  might  resemble  the 
classic  luctihrations  of  the  statesman-sage  who,  it  is  hoped,  will 
be  always  remembered  by  a  grateful  country  for  having  intro- 
duced into  these  islands  the  ^loor  Park  apricot.  What  the 
pages  of  the  ''Privy  Council  "  meant  no  human  being  luid  the 
slightest  conception  except  Mr.  Tremaine  Bertie. 


470 


EXDYMIOK 


1^  < 


r*;  ■?■ 


Mr.  Tliornbcrry  rcmuincd  a  respected  .ncmber  of  the  cab- 
inet. It  was  tliought  liis  presence  tliere  secured  the  sympathies 
of  advanced  Liberalism  throughout  the  country  ;  but  that  was 
a  tradition  rather  than  a  fact.  Statesmen  in  high  places  are 
not  always  so  well  acquainted  with  the  changes  and  jradations 
of  opinion  in  political  parties  at  home  as  tlicy  arc  with  those 
abroad.  We  hardly  mark  the  growth  of  the  tree  we  eoc  every 
day.  Mr.  Thornberry  had  long  ceased  to  be  popular  with  his 
former  fviends,  and  the  fact  that  lie  had  become  a  minister 
Avas  one  of  the  causes  of  this  change  of  feeling.  That  was  un- 
rcusunable,  but  in  politics  unreasonable  circumstances  arc  ele- 
ments of  the  problem  to  bo  solved.  It  was  generally  under- 
stood that,  on  the  next  election,  Mr.  Thornberry  would  have 
to  look  out  for  another  scat ;  his  chief  constituents,  those  who 
arc  locally  styled  the  leaders  of  the  party,  were  still  faithful  to 
him,  for  they  were  proud  of  having  a  cabinet  minister  for  their 
member,  to  be  presented  by  him  at  court,  and  occasionally  to 
dine  with  him;  but  the  "masses,"' who  do  not  go  to  court, 
and  are  never  asked  to  dinner,  required  o  member  who  would 
represent  their  whims,  and  it  was  quite  understood  that,  on 
^he  very  first  occasion,  this  enlightened  community  had  re- 
solved to  send  up  to  Westminster — Mr.  Enoch  Craggs. 

It  is  difficult  to  say,  whether  in  his  private  life  Job  found 
affairs  altogether  more  satisfactory  than  in  his  public.  His 
wife  had  joined  the  Roman  Communion.  An  ingrained  per- 
verseness,  which  prevented  his  son  from  ever  willingly  follow- 
ing the  advice  or  example  of  liis  parents,  had  preserved  John 
Hampden  to  the  Angl'can  faith,  but  he  had  portraits  of  Laud 
and  Strafford  over  his  mantelpiece,  and  embossed  in  golden 
letters  on  a  purple  groinid  the  magical  word  "  Thorough." 
His  library  chiefly  consisted  of  the  "Tracts  for  the  Times," 
nnd  a  colossal  edition  of  the  Fathers  gorgeously  bound.  Ho 
was  a  very  clever  fellow,  this  young  Thornberry,  a  natural 
orator,  and  was  leader  of  the  High  Church  party  in  the  Oxford 
Union,  lie  brought  home  his  friends  occasionally  to  Hurst- 
ley,  and  Job  had  the  opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted  with 
a  class  and  school  of  humanity — with  which,  notwithstanding 
his  considerable  experience  of  life,  he  had  no  previous  knowl- 


ST.  BAR  BE. 


471 


>> 


edge — ^}'oung  gentlemen,  apparently  half  starved  and  dressed 
liko  priests,  and  sometimes  an  entiiusiastic  young  noble,  in 
much  better  physical  condition,  and  in  costume  becoming  a 
cavalier,  ready  to  raise  the  royal  standard  at  Edgehill.  What 
a  little  annoyed  Job  was  that  his  son  always  addressed  liim  a> 
**Sfpiire,"  a  habit  even  pedantically  followed  by  his  compan- 
ions. He  was,  however,  justly  entitled  to  this  ancient  and 
reputable  honor,  for  Job  had  been  persuaded  to  purchase 
Ilurstley,  was  a  lord  of  several  thousand  acres,  and  had  the 
boar's  head  carried  in  procession  at  Christmas  in  his  ancient 
hall.  It  is  strange,  but  he  was  rather  perplexed  than  annoyed 
by  all  these  marvelous  metamorphoses  in  his  life  and  family. 
Ilis  intelligence  was  as  clear  as  ever,  and  his  views  on  all  sub- 
jects unchanged  ;  but  he  was,  like  many  other  men,  governed 
at  home  by  his  affections.  He  preferred  the  new  arrangement, 
if  his  wife  and  family  were  happy  and  contented,  to  a  domestic 
system  founded  on  his  cwn  principles,  accompanied  by  a  sullen 
or  shrewish  partner  of  his  life  and  rebellious  offspring. 

What  really  vexed  him,  among  comparatively  lesser  mat- 
ters, was  the  extraordinary  passion  which  in  time  his  son  im- 
bibed for  game-preserving.  lie  did  at  last  interfere  on  this 
matter,  but  in  vain.  John  Hampden  announced  that  he  did 
not  value  land  if  he  was  only  to  look  at  it,  and  that  sport  was 
the  patriotic  pastime  of  an  English  gentleman.  '''You  used 
in  old  days  never  to  be  satisfied  with  what  I  got  out  of  the 
land,"  said  the  old  grandfather  to  Job,  with  a  little  amiable 
malice;  '* there  is  enough  at  any  rate  now  for  the  hares  and 
rabbits,  but  I  doubt  for  anybody  else." 

We  must  not  forget  our  old  friend  St.  Barbe.  Whether  he 
had  written  himself  out  or  had  become  lazy  in  the  luxurious 
life  in  which  he  now  indulged,  he  rarely  a[)pealed  to  the  liter- 
ary public,  wh;ich  still  admired  him.  lie  was,  by  way  of  inti- 
mating that  he  was  engaged  in  a  great  work,  which,  though 
written  in  his  taking  prose,  was  to  be  really  the  epopee  of  social 
life  in  this  country.  Dining  out  every  day,  and  ever  arriving, 
however  late,  at  those  ''small  and  earlies,"  which  he  once  de- 
ppised  ;  he  gave  to  his  friends  frequent  intimations  that  he  was 
not  there  for  pleasure,  but  rather  following  his  profession  ;  he 


■I 


pi'.)':; 


472 


ENDYMIOX. 


was  in  his  stutlio,  ob.scrving  uiul  reflecting  on  all  the  ])asGions 
and  manners  of  mankind,  and  gathering  materials  for  tlic  great 
%vork  which  was  eventually  to  eneliant  and  instruct  society,  and 
immortalize  his  name. 

"Tlie  fact  is,  I  Avrote  too  earlv,"  he  would  sav.  "  I  blush 
when  I  read  my  own  books,  though  compared  with  those  of  the 
brethren,  they  might  still  be  looked  on  as  classics.  They  say 
no  artist  can  draw  a  camel,  and  I  say  no  author  ever  drew  a 
gentleman.  How  can  they,  with  no  opportunity  of  ever  see- 
ing one  ?  And  so,  with  a  little  caricature  of  manners,  which 
they  catch  second-hand,  they  arc  obliged  to  have  recourse  to 
outrageous  nonsense,  as  if  polished  life  consisted  only  of  biga- 
mists, and  that  ladies  of  fashion  were  in  the  habit  of  paying 
blackmail  to  returned  convicts.  However,  I  shall  put  an  end 
to  all  this.  I  liave  now  got  the  materials,  or  am  accumulating 
them  daily.  You  hint  that  I  give  myself  up  too  much  to  so- 
ciety. You  are  talking  of  things  you  do  not  understa:.d.  A 
•dinner  party  is  a  chapter.  I  catch  the  Cynthia  of  the  minute, 
sir,  at  a  xoirtc.  If  I  only  served  a  grateful  country,  I  should 
bo  in  the  jn'oudest  position  of  any  of  its  sons ;  if  I  had  been 
born  in  any  country  but  this,  I  should  have  been  decorated, 
and  perhaps  made  secretary  of  state  like  Addison,  who  did  not 
write  as  well  as  I  do,  though  his  style  somewhat  resembles 
mine." 

Notwithstanding  these  great  plans,  it  came  in  time  to  En- 
dymion's  ears,  that  poor  St.  Barbe  was  in  terrible  straits.  En- 
dymion  delicately  helped  him  and  then  obtained  for  liim  a 
pension,  and  not  an  inconsiderable  one.  Relieved  from  anx- 
iety, St.  Barbe  resumed  his  ancient  and  natural  vein,  lie 
passed  his  days  in  decrying  his  friend  and  patron,  and  com])ar- 
ing  his  miserable  pension  with  the  salary  of  a  secretary  of  state, 
who,  so  far  as  his  experience  went,  was  generally  a  second-rate 
man.  Endymion,  though  he  knew  St.  Barbe  was  always  de- 
crying him,  only  smiled,  and  looked  upon  it  all  as  tlie  neces- 
sary consequence  of  his  organization,  which  involved  a  singular 
combination  of  vanity  and  envy  in  the  highest  degree.  St. 
Barbe  Avas  not  less  a  guest  in  Carlton  Terrace  than  heretofore, 
.and  was  even  kindly  invited  to  Princedown  to  profit  by  the 


A  PROJECTED  ROYAL    VISIT. 


473 


distant  sca-brcczc.  Lady  Montfort,  wlioso  cars  some  uf  his 
pranks  liad  reached,  was  not  so  tolerant  as  her  liusband.  She 
gave  liim  one  day  lier  views  of  liis  conduct.  St.  Barbc  was 
always  a  little  afraid  of  her,  and  on  this  occasion  entirely  lost 
himself ;  vented  the  most  solemn  affirmations  that  there  was 
not  a  grain  of  truth  in  these  charges  ;  that  he  was  the  victim, 
as  he  had  been  all  his  life,  of  slander  and  calumny — the  sheer 
creatures  of  envy,  and  then  began  to  fawn  upon  his  hostess, 
and  declared  that  ho  had  ever  thoufjht  there  was  something 
godlike  in  the  character  of  her  husband. 

*'  And  what  is  there  in  yours,  Mr.  St.  Barbc  ?  "  asked  Lady 
Montfort. 

The  ministry  had  lasted  several  years,  its  foreign  policy  had 
been  successful ;  it  had  triumphed  in  war  and  secured  ]h>;icc. 
The  military  conduct  of  the  troojis  of  King  Florestan  had  con- 
tributed to  these  results,  and  the  popularity  of  that  sovereign 
in  England  Avas  for  a  foreigner  unexampled.  During  this  agi- 
tated interval,  Endymion  and  Myra  had  met  more  than  once, 
through  the  providential  medium  of  those  favored  spots  of  na- 
ture— German  baths. 

There  had  arisen  a  public  feeling,  that  the  ally  Avho  had 
served  us  so  well  should  be  invited  to  visit  again  a  country 
wherein  he  had  so  long  sojourned,  and  where  he  was  so  mucli 
appreciated.  The  only  evidence  that  the  Prime  Minister  gave 
that  he  was  conscious  of  this  feeling  was  an  attack  of  gout. 
Endymion  himself,  though  in  a  difficult  and  rather  painful 
position  in  this  matter,  did  everything  to  shield  and  protect 
his  chief,  but  the  general  sentiment  became  so  strong,  sanc- 
tioned too,  as  it  was  understood,  in  the  highest  quarter,  that  it 
could  no  longer  be  passed  by  unnoticed  ;  and,  in  due  time,  to 
the  great  delight  and  satisfaction  of  the  nation,  an  impend- 
ing visit  from  our  faithful  ally  King  Florestan  and  his  beauti- 
ful wife,  Queen  Myra,  was  authoritatively  announced. 

Every  preparation  was  made  to  show  them  honor.  They 
were  the  guests  of  our  Sovereign  ;  but  from  the  palace,  which 
they  were  to  inhabit,  to  the  humblest  tenement  in  the  meanest 
back  street,  there  was  only  one  feeling  of  gratitude,  ai)d  re- 
gard, and  admiration.     The  English  people  are  the  most  en- 


474 


ENDIMION. 


r  h 


1% 


5 


tliiisiustic  people  in  the  world  ;  there  are  other  populations 
which  are  more  excitable,  but  there  is  no  nation,  when  it  feels, 
where  the  sentiment  is  so  profound  and  irresistible. 

The  hour  arrived.  The  season  and  the  weather  were  favora- 
ble. From  the  port  where  they  landed  to  their  arrival  at  the 
metropolis,  the  whole  country  seemed  poured  out  into  the  open 
air  ;  triumphal  arches,  a  way  of  ilags  and  banners,  and  bits  of 
bunting  on  every  hovel.  The  King  and  Queen  were  received 
at  the  metroi)olitan  station  by  Princes  of  the  blood,  and  aecom- 
l)anied  to  the  palace,  where  the  great  oflicers  of  state  and  the 
assembled  ministry  were  gathered  together  to  do  them  honor. 
A  great  strain  was  thrown  ui)on  Endymion  throughout  these 
proceedings,  as  the  Prime  Minister,  who  had  been  suffering 
the  whole  season,  and  rarely  present  in  his  seat  in  Parliament 
was,  at  this  moment,  in  his  worst  paroxysm.  He  could  not 
therefore  be  present  at  the  series  of  balls  and  banquets,  and 
brilliant  public  functions,  which  gi-eeted  the  royal  guests. 
Their  visit  to  the  City,  when  they  dined  with  the  Lord  Mayor, 
and  to  which  they  drove  in  royal  carriages  through  a  sea  of 
population  tumultuous  with  devotion,  was  the  most  gratifying 
of  all  these  splendid  receptions,  partly  from  the  associations  of 
mysterious  power  and  magnificence  connected  with  the  title 
and  character  of  Lord  Mayor.  The  Duke  of  St.  Angelo,  the 
Marquis  of  Vallombrosa,  and  the  Prince  of  Montserrat,  quite 
lost  their  presence  of  mind.  Even  the  Princess  of  Montserrat, 
Avith  more  quarterings  on  her  own  side  than  any  house  in  Eu- 
rope, ci)nfessed  that  she  trembled  when  Ilcr  Serene  Highness 
courcesied  before  the  Lady  Mayoress.  Perhaps,  however,  the 
most  brilliant,  the  most  fanciful,  infinitely  the  most  costly 
entertainment  that  was  given  on  this  memorable  occasion,  was 
the  festival  at  Ilainault.  The  whole  route  from  town  to  the 
forest  was  Ined  with  thousands,  perhaps  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands, of  spectators ;  a  thousand  guests  were  received  at  the 
banquet,  and  twelve  palaces  were  raised  by  tliat  +^^rue  magician, 
Mr.  Benjamin  Edgington,  in  the  park,  for  tlio  countless  vis- 
itors in  the  evening.  At  night  the  forest  was  illuminated. 
Everybody  was  glad  except  Lady  Hainault,  who  sighed,  and 
said,  "  I  have  no  doubt  the  queen  would  have  preferred  her 


LADY  MONTFORT  EXCITED. 


475 


ig 


own  room,  and  that  wc  should  luive  had  a  ([iiiet  diuucr,  as  in 
old  day:^,  in  the  little  Venetian  parlor." 

When  Endymion  returned  home  at  night,  he  found  a  sum- 
mons to  Gaydcne  ;  the  Prime  Minister  being,  it  was  feared,  in 
a  dangerous  state. 

The  next  day,  late  in  the  afternoon,  there  was  a  rumor  that 
the  Prime  Minister  had  resigned.  Then  it  was  authoritatively 
contradicted,  and  then  at  night  another  rumor  rose  that  the 
minister  had  resigned,  hut  that  the  resignation  would  not  he 
accepted  until  after  the  termination  of  the  royal  visit.  Tiie 
king  and  queen  had  yet  to  remain  a  short  week. 

The  fact  is,  the  resignation  had  taken  place,  but  it  was 
known  only  to  those  who  then  could  not  have  imi)arted  the 
intelligence.  The  public  often  conjectures  the  truth,  though 
it  clothes  its  impression  or  information  in  the  vague  shai)e  of  a 
rumor.  In  four-and-twenty  hourr  the  great  fact  was  authori- 
tatively announced  in  all  the  journals,  with  leading  articles 
speculating  on  the  successor  to  the  able  and  accomjilished  min- 
ister of  whose  services  the  Sovereign  and  the  country  were  so 
unhappily  deprived.  Would  his  successor  be  found  in  his  own 
cabinet  ?  And  thon  several  names  were  mentioned  ;  Raw- 
chester,  to  Lady  Monifort's  disgust.  Rawchester  was  a  safe 
man,  and  had  had  much  experience,  which,  as  with  most  safe 
men,  probably  left  him  as  wise  luid  able  as  before  he  imbibed 
it.  Would  there  be  altogether  a  change  of  parties  ?  Would 
the  Protectionists  try  again  ?  They  were  very  strong,  but  al- 
ways in  a  minority,  like  some  great  continental  powers,  who 
have  the  finest  army  in  the  world,  and  yet  get  always  beaten. 
Would  that  band  of  self-admiring  geniuses,  who  had  upset 
every  cabinet  with  whom  they  were  ever  connected,  return  on 
the  shoulders  of  the  people,  as  they  always  dreamed,  thougli 
they  were  always  tlie  persons  of  whom  the  people  never  seemed 
to  think  ? 

Lady  Montfort  was  in  a  state  of  passive  excitement.  She 
was  quite  pale,  and  she  remained  quite  pale  for  hours.  She 
would  sec  no  one.  She  sat  in  Endymion's  room,  and  never 
spoke,  while  he  continued  writing  and  transacting  his  affairs. 
She  thought  she  was  reading  the  ''  Morning  Post,"  but  really 


Is 


476 


h 


<-iii 


>,vi.i; 


not  distinguish 


ENDYMIOX. 


the  advertisements  from  the 


leading 


could 

articles.  ■ 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  library  door,  and  the  groom  of 
the  chambers  brought  in  a  note  for  Endymion.  lie  glanced 
at  the  handwriting  of  the  address,  and  then  opened  it,  as  pule 
as  his  wife.  Then  he  read  it  again,  and  then  he  gave  it  to  her. 
She  threw  her  eyes  over  it,  and  then  her  arms  around  his  neck. 

*'  Order  my  brougham  at  three  o'clock." 


CHAPTER  CI. 

Endymion  was  with  his  sister. 

"IIow  dear  of  you  to  come  to  mc,"  she  said,  *'when  you 
can  not  liuvc  a  moment  to  yourself." 

*'  "Well,  you  know,"  he  replied,  '*  it  is  not  like  forming  a 
government.  That  is  an  affair.  I  have  reason  to  think  all  my 
colleagues  will  remain  with  me.  I  shall  summon  them  for  this 
afternoon,  and  if  we  agree,  affairs  Avill  go  on  as  before.  I 
should  like  to  get  down  to  Gaydenc  to-night." 

"To-night!"  said  the  queen  musingly.  **We  have  only 
one  day  left,  and  I  wanted  you  to  do  something  for  me." 

*•'  It  shall  be  done,  if  possible  ;  I  need  not  say  that." 

*''It  is  not  difficult  to  do,  if  we  have  time — if  we  have  to- 
morrow morning,  and  early.  But  if  you  go  to  Gay  dene  you 
will  hardly  return  to-night,  and  I  shall  lose  my  chance — and 
yet  it  is  to  me  a  business  most  precious." 

"  It  shall  be  managed  ;  tell  me  then." 

''  I  learned  that  Hill  Street  is  not  occupied  at  this  moment. 
I  want  to  visit  the  old  house  Avitli  you,  before  I  leave  England, 
probably  for  ever.  I  have  only  got  the  early  morn  to-morrow, 
but  Avith  a  veil  and  your  brougham,  I  think  we  might  depart 
unobiierved,  before  the  crowd  begins  to  assemble.  Do  you  think 
jou  could  be  here  at  nine  o'clock  ?" 

So  it  was  settled,  and  being  hurried,  he  departed. 

And  next  morning  he  was  at  tlie  palace  before  nine  o'clock  ; 
and  the  queen,  veiled,  entered  his  brougham.     There  were  al- 


1  1 


rUE  LAST  EM n RACE. 


477 


ready  some  loiterers,  but  tlio  brotlicr  and  sister  passed  throii*,'h 
the  gates  unobserved. 

They  readied  Hill  Street.  Tiic  queen  visited  all  the  prin- 
cipal rooms,  and  made  many  remarks  api)ropriatc  to  many  mem- 
ories. "  But,"  she  said,  "  it  was  not  to  sec  tliese  rooms  I  came, 
though  I  was  ghid  to  do  so,  and  the  corridor  on  the  second  story 
wlience  I  called  out  to  you  when  you  returned,  and  for  ever,  from 
Eton,  and  told  you  there  was  bad  news.  What  I  came  for  was 
to  see  our  old  nursery,  where  we  lived  so  long  together,  and  so 
fondly  !  Here  it  is  ;  here  we  arc.  All  I  have  desired,  all  I  have 
dreamed,  have  come  to  pass.  Darling,  beloved  of  my  soul,  by 
all  our  sorrows,  by  all  our  joys,  in  this  scene  of  our  childhood 
and  bygone  days,  let  me  give  you  my  last  embrace." 


THE    END,