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NOVELS AND TALES 



EARL OF BEACONSFIELD 

WITH PORTKAIT AND SKETCH OF HIS LIPL 



VOL. X.-LOTHAIR 



tmflbcwgen CglHow 



L O T H A 1 R 



KAIIt. Ol' RllACONSI'lKI.I) 




LONDON 
/.ONUMANS, GHKKN. AND CO. 



I 



^^ 



616961 



► • •• 

• • • • 

• • • • • 



• • •' 

• • • 

• • • •• • 












PUIMED AT TUF nALLANTTNK PRHS"^, F.DINPUKGM 



TO 



HIS EOYAL HIGHXESS 

THE DUKE OF AUMALE 



RESPECT AND AFFECTIOS. 



GENERAL PREFACE. 



II 



As AifBRiCAii oESTLEMiN, with more than courtesy, 
bas forwarded to me a vast number of notices of 
LoTium which have appeared in the leading joiirna's 
of his country. He t«lls me that, irrespective of literaiy 
' organs,' there are in the Union five thousand news- 
{hiper^, and it is not impossible that some notice of 
'Lothair' might appear io each of these. However 
varioius maj be the opiniona of those which I thiis 
possess, they appear to me generally to be sincere, and 
in point of literary ability ; taste, style, and critical 
ticumea ; I think they need not fear competition with 
the similar productions of our own land. 

My English publishers also have made a collection of 
the notices of this work in our own country, and though 
we have not yet five thousand newspapers, the aggre- 
gate of articles is in amount perhaps unprecedented. 
I have nothing to complain of in their remarks. 
One could hardly expect at home the judicial impar- 
tiality of a foreign land. Personal influences inevit- 
ably mingle in some degree with such productions. 
There are critics who, abstractealy, do not approve of 
Buooesrful books, particularly if they have failed in the 



viii GENERAL PREFACE. 

»ame style ; social acquaintances also of lettered taste, 
and especially cotemporaries whose public life has 
not exactly realised the vain dreams of their fussy 
existence, would seize the accustomed opportunity of 
welcoming with affected discrimination about nothing, 
and elaborate controversy about trifles, the production 
of a friend ; and there is always, both in politics and 
literature, the lace of the Dennises, the Oldmixons, 
and Curls, who flatter themselves that, by systematically 
libelling some eminent personage of their times, they 
have a chance of descending to posterity. 

A distinguished individual has suggested that, in a 
preface to this edition of my collected works, I might 
give ray own views of the purport of ' Lothair.' It 
strikes me, with all deference, that it would be not a 
little presumptuous for an author thus to be the self- 
critic of volumes which appeared only a few months ago. 
Their purport to the writer seems clear enough, and 
as they have been more extensively read both by the 
people of the United Kingdom and the United States 
than any work that has appeared for the last half cen- 
tury, I will even venture to assimie that on this point 
they are of the same opinion as myself. 

But on some other works, the youngest of which 
were written a quarter of a century ago, it would per- 
haps be in me not impertinent now to make a few 
remarks. Coningsbt, Stbil, and Tancred form a real 
Trilogy ; that is to say, they treat of the same subject, 
and endeavour to complete that treatment. The 
origin and character of our political parties, their 
influence on the condition of the people of this country, 
some picture of the moral and physical condition of 



I 

■Htid 
KhicI 

m Bo 



GENERAL PREFACE. 



people, and some intimation of the means by 
1 it nughl be elevated and improved, were themes 

lich bad long engaged my meditation. 

Born in a library, and trained from early childhood 
by learned men who did not share the passions and the 
prejudices of our political and social life, I had imbibed 
on some subjects cooclusiona dilTerent from those which 
generally prevail, and especially with reference to the 
history of our own country. How an oligarchy bad 
been Eubstitut^d for a kingdom, and a narrow-minded 
AuA bigot«d fanaticism flourished in the oame of re- 
ligious liberty, were problems long to me insoluble, 
but which early interested me. But what most attracted 
my musing, even as a lioy, was the elements of our 
political parties, and the strange mystification by which 
that which was national in ita constitution had become 
odious, and that which was exclusive was presented as 
jwpular. 

What has mainly led to this confusion of public 
lought and this uneasiness of society is our habitual 
iiesaness in not distinguishing between the excel- 
lence of a principle and its injurious or obsolete appli- 
cation. The feudal system may have worn out, but its 
main principle, that the tenure of property should be 
the fulfilment of duty, is the essence of good govern- 
ment. The diviue right of kings may have been a plea 
for feeble tyrants, but the divine right of government is 
Ui« keystone of human progress, and without itgoverc- 
ments siak into police, and a nation is degraded into a 
mob. 

National institutions were the ramparts of the multi- 
tude against large estates exercising political power 



petrel 



r^ 



GENERAL PREFACE. 



derived from a limited class. The Church was in theoxy, 
and once it had been in practice, the spiritual and 
intellectual trainer of the people. The privileges of the 
multitude and the prerogatives of the Sovereign had 
grown up together, and together they had waned. Under 
the plea of liberalism, all the institutions which were 
the bulwarks of the multitude had been sapped and 
weakened, and nothing had been substituted for them. 
The people were without education, and, relatively to 
the advance of science and the comfort of the superior 
classes, their condition had deteriorated, and their 
physical quality as a race was threatened. Those who 
in theory were the national party, and who sheltered 
themselves imder the institutions of the country 
against the oligarchy, had, both by a misconception 
and a neglect of their duties, become, and justly be- 
come, odious; while the oligarchy, who had mainly 
founded themselves on the plunder of the popular 
estate, either in the shape of the possessions of the 
Church or the domains of the Crown, had by the 
patronage of certain general principles which they 
only meagerly applied, assumed, and to a certain degree 
acquired, the character of a popular party. But no 
party was national : one was exclusive and odious, and 
the other liberal and cosmopolitan. 

The perverse deviation of political parties from their 
original significance may at first sight seem only a 
subject of historical curiosity, but they assume a dif- 
ferent character when they practically result in the 
degradation of a people. 

To change back the oligarchy into a generous aris- 
tocracy round a real throne ; to infuse life and vigour 




into the Church, lu the trainer of the aatlon, by the 
revival of Convocation, then dumb, on a wide boais, 
and not, as has been since done, in the shape of a 
priestly section ; to establish a commercial code on 
the principles Biiccessfiilly negotiated by Lord Boling- 
broke at Utrecht, and which, though bafEed at the 
time by a Whig Parliament, were subsequently and 
triumphantly vindicated by his political pupil aud 
heir, Mr. Piti ; to govern Ireland according to th« 
policy of Charles I. and not of Oliver Cromwell; to 
emancipate the political constituency of 1832 from its 
sectarian bondage and contracted sympathies; to elevate 
the physical as well as the moral condition of the people, 
by establishing that labour required regulation as much 
as property ; and all this rather by the use of ancient 
forms and the restoration of the past than by political 
revolutions founded on abstract ideas, appeared to be 
the course which the circumRtanees of this countxy 
required, and which, practically speaking, could only, 
with all their faults and backslidings, be undertaken 
and accomplished by a reconstructed Tory Party. 

When I attempted to enter public life, I eipressed 
these views, long meditated, to my countrymen, but they 
met with little encouragement. He who steps out of the 
crowd is listened to with suspicion or with heedless- 
ness : and forty years ago there prevailed a singular 
ignorance of the political history of our country. I 
had no connection either in the press or in public life. 
I incurred the accustomed penalty of being looked on 
aa a visionary, and what I knew to be facts were treated 
aa paradoxes. 

Ten years afterwards affairs had changed. I J;ad 



I 



-■■f. 



xii GENERAL PREFACE. 

been some time in Parliament and had friends who 
had entered public life with myself, and who listened 
always with interest and sometimes with sympathy to 
views which I had never ceased to enforce. Living 
much together, without combination we acted together. 
Some of those who were then my companions have, like 
myself, since taken some part in the conduct of public 
affairs : two of them, and those who were not the least 
interested in our speculations, have departed. One 
was Georgb Smtthb, afterwards seventh Lord Strang- 
ford, a man of brilliant gifts ; of dazzling wit, infinite 
culture, and fascinating manners. His influence over 
youth was remarkable, and he could promulgate a new 
faith with graceful enthusiasm. Henrt Hope, the 
eldest son of the author of * Anastasius,' was of a dif- 
ferent nature, but he was learned and accomplished, 
possessed a penetrating judgment and an inflexible 
will. Master of a vast fortune, his house naturally 
became our frequent rendezvous; and it was at the 
Deefdbne, that he first urged the expediency of my 
treating in a literary form those views and subjects 
which were the matter of our frequent conversation. 

This was the origin of Coningsbt or the New 
Generation, which I conmienced imder his roof, and 
which I inscribed to his name. 

The derivation and character of political parties ; the 
condition of the people which had been the consequence 
of them ; the duties of the Church as a main remedial 
agency in our present state ; were the three principal 
topics which I intended to treat, but I found they were 
too vast for the space I had allotted to myself. 

These were all laimched in *Coningsby,' but the 




GENERAL PREFACE. 



origin and condition of political parties, tl)e first por- 
tion of tbe theme, vaa the only one completely handled 
in that work. 

Next year (1845), in Stsil ok the Two Nations, 
I conudered the condition of the people, and tbe whole 
work, generally speaking, was devoted to that portion 
of my scheme. At that time the Chartist agitation 
was Gtill fresh in the public memory, and its repetition 
was far from improbable. I had mentioned to my 
Iriend, the lute Thouas Duncoube, and who waa my 
friend before I entered the House of Commons, eome- 
Ihing of what I was contemplating ; and he oll'ered and 
obtained for my perusal the whole of tbe correspond- 
ence of Feargus O'Connor when conductor of the 
' Northern Star,' with the leaders and chief actors of 
the Chartist movement. I had visited and observed 
with care all the localities introduced ; and as an accu- 
nt« and never exaggerated picture of a remarkable 
period in our domestic history, and of a popular orga- 
nisation which in its extent and completeness has 
perhaps never been equalled, the pages of Sybil may, 
I venture to believe, be consulted with confidence. 

In recognising the Church as a powerful agent in the 
previous development of England, and possibly the 
most efficient means of that renovation of the national 
spirit which wbis desired, it seemed to me that the time 
had arrived when it became my duty to ascend to the 
origin of that great ecclesiastical corporation, and con- 
sider the position of the descendants of that race who 
had been the founders of Christianity. Some of the 
great truths of ethnology were necessarily involved in 
such discussions. Familiar as we all are now with such 



xiv GENERAL PREFACE, 

themes, the house of Israel being now freed from the 
barbarism of mediaeval misconception, and judged, Uke 
all other races, by their contributions to the existing 
sum of human welfare, and the general influence of 
race on human action being universally recognised as 
the key of history, the diflSculty and hazard of touch- 
ing for the first time on such topics cannot now be 
easily appreciated. But public opinion recognised both 
the truth and sincerity of these views, and, with its 
sanction, in Takcred or the New Crusade, the third 
portion of the Trilogy, I completed their development. 

It will be seen that the general spirit of these pro- 
ductions ran coimter to the views which had been long 
prevalent in England, and which may be popularly, 
though not altogether accurately, described as utili- 
tarian. They recognised imagination in the government 
of nations as a quality not less important than reason. 
They trusted much to a popular sentiment, which 
rested on an heroic tradition and was sustained by the 
high spirit of a free aristocracy. Their economic prin- 
ciples were not unsound, but they looked upon the 
health and knowledge of the multitude as not the least 
precious part of the wealth of nations. In asserting the 
doctrine of race, they were entirely opposed to the 
equality of man, and similar abstract dogmas, which 
have destroyed ancient society without creating a satis- 
factory substitute. Sesting on popular sympathies and 
popular privileges, they held that no society could be 
durable unless it^was built upon the principles of loyalty 
and religious reverence. 

The writer and those who acted with him looked, 
then, upon the Anglican Church as a main machinery by 






I 



GENERAL PREFACE. xv 

wliich thpse results miglit \ie realised. There were 
few great thinj^s left in England, and the Church waa 
one. Nor do I now doubt thiit if, a quarter of a century 
ago, there had arisen a churchman equal to the occaaion, 
the position of ecclesiastical affairs in this country 
would have been very different from that which they 
now occupy. But these great matters fell into the 
hands of raonka and schoolmen ; and little more than a 
year after the publication of Cosisgsbt, the secession 
of Dr. Newjian dealt a blow to the Church of England 
under which it still reels. That extraordinary event 
baa been ' apologised ' for, but has never been explained. 
It was a miatake and a misfortune, Tbo tradition of 
the Anglican Church was powerful. Resting ou the 
Church of Jerusalem, modified by the divine school of 
Galilee, it would have found that rock of truth which 
Providence, by the InBtrumentality of the Semitic race, 
had promised to St. Peter. Instead of that, the 
aeceders sotight refuge in mediiEval euperstittong, which 
are generally only the embodiments of pagan cere- 
monies and creeds. 

It cannot be denied that the aspect of the world and 
this country, to thuae who have faith in tha spiritual 
nature of man, is at this time dark and distressful. 
They listen to douittg, and even denials, of an active 
Providence ; what is styled Materialism ia in the 
ascendant. To those who believe that an atheistical 
society, though it may be polished and amiable, in- 
volves the seeds of anarchy, the prospect is full of 
gloom. 

This disturbance in the mind of nations has been 
occasioned by two causes : first, by the powerful assault 



xvi GENERAL PREFACE. 



on the divinity of the Semitic literature by the Germans, 
and, secondly, by recent discoveries of science, which 
are hastily supposed to be inconsistent with our long- 
received convictions as to the relations between the 
Creator and the created. 

One of the consequences of the Divine government 
of this world, which has ordained that the sacred pur- 
poses should be effected by the instnmientality of 
various human races, must be occasionally a jealous 
discontent with the revelation entrusted to a particular 
family. But there is no reason to believe that the 
Teutonic rebellion of this century against the Divine 
truths entrusted to the Semites will ultimately meet 
with more success than the Celtic insurrection of the 
preceding age. Both have been sustained by the highest 
intellectual gifts that human nature has ever displayed ; 
but when the tujnult subsides, the Divine truths are 
found to be not less prevalent than before, and simply be- 
cause they are divine. Man brings to the study of the 
oracles more learning and more criticism than of yore : 
and it is well that it should be so. The documents will 
yet bear a greater amount both of erudition and exami- 
nation than they have received ; but the word of God is 
eternal, and will survive the spheres. 

The sceptical effects of the discoveries of science, and 
the uneasy feeling that they cannot co-exist with our old 
religious convictions, have their origin in the circum- 
stance, that the general body who have suddenly become 
conscious of these physical truths are not so well ac- 
quainted as is desirable with the past history of man. As- 
tonished by their unprepared emergence &om ignorance 
to a certain degree of information, their amazed intelli- 



r 



GENERAL PREFACE. 

gence takes refiige in the theory of what ia conveoiently 
c&Ued Progress, aad evety step in scientific dieoovery 
seems further to remove them from the path of primiBval 
iiuplratioD. But there Ib do fallacy so flagrant as to 
Euppose that the modem ages have the peculiar privi- 
lege of scientific discovery, or that they are distinguished 
as the epochs of the most illustrious inventions. On the 
contrary, scientific invention has always gone on simul- 
taneously with the revelation of spiritual truths; and 
more, the greatest discoveries are not those of modem 
ages. No one for a moment can pretend that printing 
is ao great a discovery as writing, or algebra as language. 
What are the most brilliant of our chymical discoveries 
compared with the invention of fire and the metals ? 
It is a vulgar belief that our astronomical knowledge 
dates only from the recent century when it was rescueil 
from the monks who imprisoned Galileo ; but Hippar- 
chus, who lived before oiu- Divine Master, and who 
among other sublime acliievements discovered the 
precession of the equinoxes, ranks with the Newtons 
and the Keplera ; and Copernicus, the modern father of 
our celestial science^ avows himself, in his famous work, 
W only the champion of Pythagoras, whose system he 
enforces and illustrates. Even the most modish schemes 
of the day on the origin of things, which captivate 
RS much by their novelty as their truth, may find 
their preciu^ors in ancient sages, and after a careful 
analysis of the blended elements of imagination and 
induction which characterise the new theories, tliey 
will be found mainly to rest on the atom of Epicurus 
and the monad of Thales. Scientific like spiritual 
truth has ever from the beginning been descending from 



M 



xviii GENERAL PREFACE. 



Heaven to man. He is a being who organically demands 
direct relations with his Creator, and he would not have 
been so organised if his requirements could not be 
satisfied. We may analyse the sim and penetrate the 
stars, but man is conscious that he is made in Ood's 
own image, and in his perplexity he will ever appeal to 
our Father which art in Heaven. 

I had been in Parliament seven years when this 
Trilogy was published, and during that period I had 
not written anything ; but in 1837, the year I entered 
the House of Conmions, I had published two works, 
JIenbietta Temple and Venetia. These are not politi- 
cal works, but they would conmiemorate feelings more 
enduring than public passions, and they were written 
with care, and some delight. They were inscribed to 
two friends, the best I ever had, and not the least gifted. 
One was the inimitable D'Obsat, the most accomplished 
and the most engaging character that has figured in this 
century, who, with the form and universal genius of an 
Alcibiades, combined a brilliant wit and a heart of quick 
affection, and who, placed in a public position, would 
have displayed a courage, a judgment, and a command^ 
ing intelligence which would have ranked him with 
the leaders of mankind. The other was one who had 
enjoyed that public opportunity which had been denied 
to CoMTB D'Orsay. The world has recognised the 
political courage, the versatile ability, and the mascu- 
line eloquence of Lord Ltndhubst ; but his intimates 
only were acquainted with the tenderness of his dis- 
position, the sweetness of his temper, his ripe scholar- 
ship, and the playfulness of his bright and airy spirit. 

And here I cannot refrain from mentioning that in 



GENERAL PREFACE. 

1337 I accompaiiied Lord Lyndhurst to Kensin^it 
Palace, nben, on the accesEioii of the Queen, the peere 
and privy councillors and chief peraonages of the 
realm pledged their fealty to their new Sovereign. 
He was greatly affected by the unusual i 
youthful maiden receiving the homage of her subjectB, 
most of them illustriouB, in a palitce in a garden, 
and all with a sweet and natural dignity. He gave 
me, as we drove home, an aninaated picture of what 
had occurred in the Presence Chamber, marked by all 
that penetrating observation, and happy tersenesB of 
description, which distinguished him. Eight years 
aftenvardB, with my memory still under the influence 
of his effective narrative, I reproduced the scene in 
SrfliL, and I feel sure it may be referred to for ita 
historical accuracy. 

There was yet a barren interval of five years of my 
life, so far as literature was concerned, between the 
publication of ' Henrietta Temple,' and ' Venetia,' and 
my earlier works. In 1832 I had published Cuntabiki 
Fi^uma and Alhot. I had then returned from two 
years of travel in the Mediterranean regions, and I 
published * Contarini Fleming' anonymously, and in 
the midst of a revolution. It was almost stillborn, 
and having written it with deep thought and feeling, 
I was naturally discouraged from further effort. Yet 
the youthful writer who may, like me, be inclined 
to despair, may learn also from my example nut to 
be precipitate in his resolves. Gradually 'Contarini 
Fleming ' found sympathising readers ; Goetiib and 
Bgckford were impelled to communicate their uii- 
Bulicited opinions of this work to its anonymous author, 



XX GENERAL PREFACE. 



and I have seen a criticism on it by Heine, of which 
any writer might be justly proud. Yet all this does 
not prevent me &om being conscious that it would 
have been better if a subject so essentially psycho- 
logical had been treated at a more mature period of 
Ufe. 

I had commenced *Alroy' the year after my first 
publication, and had thrown the manuscript aside. 
Being at Jerusalem in the year 1831, and visiting the 
traditionary tombs of the kings, my thoughts recurred 
to the marvellous career which had attracted my boy- 
hood, and I shortly after finished a work which I began 
the year after I wrote Vivian Gret. 

What my opinion was of that my first work, written 
in 1826, was shown by my publishing my second anony- 
mously. Books written by boys, which pretend to give 
a picture of manners and to deal in knowledge of human 
nature, must be affected. They can be, at the best, but 
the results of imagination acting on knowledge not ac- 
quired by experience. Of such circumstances exaggera- 
tion is a necessary consequence, and false taste accom- 
panies exaggeration. Nor is it necessary to remark 
that a total want of art must be observed in such 
pages, for that is a failing incident to &11 first efforts. 
' Vivian Grey ' is essentially a puerile work, but it has 
baffled even the efforts of its creator to suppress it. Its 
fate has been strange ; and not the least remarkable 
thing is, that forty-four years after its first publication, 
I must ask the indulgence of the reader for its con- 
tinued and inevitable re-appearanoe. 

D. 

RuQBiZNDEM Manob : October 1870. 



LOTHAIE. 



CHAPTEE I. 

' I UUKUDEK BID & little boy.' said the Ducliess, 'a pretty 
little boy, bnt very shy. Hia mother brought him to ne 
OHO day. She was a dear friend of mine ; yon Icdow ahe 
waa ooe of niy bridesmaids ? ' 

* And you have neror seen bim since, mamma ? ' en- 
qoiivd a married daughter, who looked lilce the yonnger 
BiBtcr of bcT mother. 

'Never; be was an orphan ahortly after; I bavo of^n 
reproached myself, but it is bo difficult to see boys. Then, 
he never went to school, bnt was brought ap in the High- 
taiids wilh a rather aav^e uncle ; and if he and Bertram 
had not become friends at Christcburch, I do uot well see 
how W9 OTCr conld have known him.' 

These remarks were made in the morning-room of 
Brontham, wlicro the mistreaa of the mansion sate sur- 
rounded by her daughters, all occupied with various works. 
One knitted a purse, another adorned a slipper, a third 
emblaxoued a page. Beautiful forms ia counsel leant over 
fnu&es glowing with embroidery, while two fair sisters 
mora remota occasionally borst into melody, as they tried 
th* pMmgiM of a new air, which had been communicated 
to them iu the manuscript of some devoted friend. 

The Dachess, ona of the greatest heiresses of BHUin, 



2 LOTH AIR. 

siDgnlarlj bcautifol and gifted with native grace, had mar- 
ried in her teens one of the wealthiest and most powerfiil 
of our nobles, and scarcely older than her8el£ ELer hus- 
band was as distinguished for his appearance and his 
manners as his bride, and those who specolate on race 
were interested in watching the development of their pro- 
geny, who in form, and colour, and voice, and manner, and 
mind were a reproduction of their parents, who seemed 
only the elder brother and sister of a gifted circle. The 
daughters with one exception came first, and all met the 
same fate. After seventeen years of a delicious home they 
were presented, and inmiediately married ; and all to per- 
sonages of high consideration. After the first conquest^ 
this fate seemed as regular as the order of nature. Then 
came a son, who was now at Ghristchurch, and then 
several others, some at school, and some scarcely out of the 
nursery. There was one daughter unmarried, and she 
was to be presented next season. Though the family like- 
ness was still apparent in Lady Gorisande, in general ex- i 
pression she diObred from her sisters. They were all alike I 
with their delicate aquiline noses, bright complexions, short 
upper lips, and eyes of sunny light. The beauty of.Lady 
Gorisande was even more distinguished and more regular, 
but whether it were the effect of her dark-brown hair or 
darker eyes, her countenance had not the lustre of the rest, 
and its expression was grave and perhaps pensive. 

The Duke, though still young, and naturally of a gay and 
joyous temperament, had a high sense of duty, and strong 
domestic feelings. He was never wanting in his public 
place, and he was fond of his wife aud his children ; stiU 
more proud of them. Every day when he looked into the 
glass, and gave the last touch to his consummate toilette, 
he offered his grateful thanks to Providence that his £Bunily 
was not unworthy of him. 

His Ch:tice was accustomed to say that he had only one 

i 

< 

I 

I 



LOlllAlR. 3 

nufortoce, and it was a ^reat one ; he had no hone. His 
ramily )iad married so many heiresses, and he, consc- 
qaeDlIy, possessed so macy halls and caRtleH, at &U of 
wliich, periodically, he wished, from a right fccHrg, to 
reside, that there was no sacred spot identified with hia life 
in which his heart, in the hustle and tniuult ofoiistence, 
coold take reliige. Breotham was llie original Beat of his 
family, and he was even passionately foinl of it; hat it was 
remarkable how very short a puriod of his yearly life waa 
passed under its stat«ly roof. So it was his custom always 
to repair to Brentham the moment the season was orer, and 
he would exact from his children, that, however short 
might be the time, they would be his companions under 
those circnmstances. The daaghtera loved Brentham, and 
ibey loved to please their father ; bat the socs-in-law, 
though they were what is called devoted to their wives, 
and, nnnsoal as it may seem, scarcely less attached to their 
legal parents, did not fall very easily int^ this arrajigeinent. 
The oouDti-y in August without sport was unqnestioBably 
to them a severe trial: nevertheless, they rarely omitted 
making their appearance, and if they did occasionally 
vanish, sometimes to Cones, sometimes to Switzerland, 
sometimes to Norway, they always wrote to their vrivea, 
and always alluded to their immediate or approaching re- 
turn ; and their letters gracefully contrilinted to the fund 
of domestic amusement. 

And yet it Would be diiScnlt to find a fairer scene than 
itham offered, osijecially in the Instrous effulgence of a 
ions English summer- It was an Italian palace of free- 
stone i vast, ornate, and in scrupulous condition; its spacioos 
nad graceful chamhera filled with treasures of art, and 
ri-dug itself from statacd and stately terraces. At their foot 
spread a gardened domain of considerable extent, bright 
writh (lowers, dim with coverts of rare shrubs, and musical 
with fonntainB. Its limit reached a park, with timber such 






L 



4 LOTH AIR. 

as the midland connties only can produce. The fidlow 
doer trooped among its femj solitudes and gigantic oaikB ; 
but beyond the waters of the broad and winding laJi^e the 
scene became more savage, and the eye caught the dark 
form of the red deer on some jutting mount, Hhrinking 
with scorn from communion with his gentler brethren. 



CHAPTER II. 



LoTHAiB was the little boy whom the Duchess remembered. 
He was a posthumous child, and soon lost a devoted mother. 
His only relation was one of his two guardians, a Scotch 
noble, a Presbyterian and a Whig. This uncle was a 
widower with some children, but they were girls, and, 
though Lothair was attached to them, too young to be his 
companions. Their father was a keen, hard man, honour- 
able and just, but with no softness of heart or manner. 
He guarded with precise knowledge and with unceasing 
vigilance Lothair's vast inheritance, which was in many 
counties and in more than one kingdom ; but he educated 
him in a Highland home, and when he had reached boy- 
hood thought fit to send him to the High School of Edin- 
burgh. Lothair passed a monotonous if not a dull life; 
but he found occasional solace in the scenes of a wild and 
beautiful nature, and delight in all the sports of the field 
and forest, in which he was early initiated and completely 
indulged. Although an Englishman, he was fifteen before 
he revisited his country, and then his glimpses of England 
were brief, and to him scarcely satisfactory. He was 
hurried sometimes to vast domains, which he heard were 
his own ; and sometimes whisked to the huge metropolis, 
where he was shown St. Paul's and the British Mnseunu 
These visits left a vague impression of bustle without 



LOTHAIR. 



5 



_^ndiie66, and eshaoBtion withoot excitemeni ; and he was 
glad to get back to hia glens, to the moor and the uioimlAiii- 
etrcam. 

His father, in the selection of hia guardinna, had not 
contemplated tlus system of edtication. While he secured, 
hj the appointment of bis brother-in-law, tbe moBt com- 
petent and trostvorthj steward of liia son's fortune, he 
had depended on another for that inflocnce which ehonld 
roonld the character, gaiile the opinions, ajid form the tostea 
of his child. The other guardian was a clergyman, hin 
father's private tutor and beart-friend ; scarcely his parent's 
aeuior, but exercising over him iiroaistible infincnce, for he 
was a man of shining talents and abounding knowledge, 
brilliant and profound. But unhappily, shortly after Lo- 
tbiur became an orphan, this distinguished man seceded 
&-om the Anglican communion, and entered the Chnrcli of 
Rome. From this moment there wag war between the 
guardians. Tbe uncle endeavoured to drive bis colleague 
fi-ota tiib trust: in this he ftuled, for the priest would not 
renounce his ofEce. The Scotch noble succeeded, however, in 
making it a fruitless one: he thwarted every anggestion 
that emanated from tbe obnoxious quarter ; and indeed 
tbe Mcret reason of the almost constant residence of Lo- 
thair in Scotland, and of his bai^h education, was the fear 
of bis relative, tlmt the moment be creased tbe border he 
might, by some mysterious process, fall under the inflnence 
that his guardian so mnch dreaded and detested. 

Thej« was, however, a limit to these severe procantioaa 
even before Lothair should reach liia majority. His father 
had expressed in his will that bis son should be cdacal«d 
Kt the Unii-ersity of Oxford, and at the same college of 
irhich lie hod boon a member. His uncle was of opinion be 

mplied with the spirit of this instruction by sending 
T to the University of Edinburgh, which would give 

last tonic to his moral system ; and then commenced a 



6 LOTH AIR. 

celebrated chancery suit, institnied bj the Roman Catholic 
firaardian, in order to enforce a literal compliance with the 
edncational condition of the wilL The uncle looked upon 
thia movement as a Popish plot, and had recourse to every 
available allegation and argument to baffle it, but ulti- 
mately in vain. With every precaution to secure his Pro- 
testant principles, and to guard against the influence, or 
even personal interference, of his Roman Catholic guardian, 
the Lord Chancellor decided that Lothair should be sent to 
Ohristchurch. 

Here Lothair, who had never been favoured with a com- 
panion of his own age and station, soon found a congenial 
one in the heir of Brentham* Inseparable in pastime, not 
dissociated even in study, sympathising companionship soon 
ripened into fervent friendship. They lived so much to- 
gether that the idea of separation became not only painfol 
bat impossible ; and, when vacation arrived, and Brentham 
was to be visited by its fature lord, what more natural than 
that it should be arranged that Lothair should be a visitor 
to his domain P 



CHAPTER in. 



Although Lothair was the possessor of as many palaces 
and castles as the Duke himself, it is curious that his first 
dinner at Brentham was almost his introduction into refined 
society. He had been a guest at the occasional banquets 
of his undo, but these were festivals of the Picts and 
Scots ; rude plenty and coarse splendour, with noise instead 
of conversation, and a tumult of obstructive dependants, 
who impeded, by their want of skill, the very convenience 
which they were purposed to facilitate. How different the 
surrounding scene ! A table covered with flowers, bright 



LOTH AIR. 7 

mtb fknci^l crystal, Euid porcelain tliat had belongixt to 
aovereigna, wbo bad given & name to its colour or its form. 
As for thoac present, all seemed grace and ^ntleneas, from 
tbe radiant daughters of the house to the noiseless attend- 
knts that anticipated all his wants, and eometlmes seemed 
ta Btiggest his wishes. 

Lothair sat between two of the married daughters. 
They addres-ied him witli so much sympathy that he was 
ignite enchanted. When they aaked their pretty questions 
nod made their sparkling remarks, roses seemed to drop 
from their lips, and sometimes diamonds. It naa a rather 
Urge party, for the Breutham family were so nnmerona that 
Ihey themselves made a festival. There were fonr married 
daughters, the Duke and two sons-in-law, a clorgymnn or 
two, and some ladies and gentlemen who were seldom 
absent from this circle, and who, by their useful talents 
and various accomplishments, alleviated the toil or cares of 
life from which even princes are not eaempt. 

Wheu the ladies had retired to the Duchess's drawing- 
room, all the married daagbt^rs clustered round tlieir 
mother. 

' Do yon know, mamma, we all think him very good- 
lookitig,' said the youngest married daughter, tbs wife of 
tbe listless and handsome St. Aldegonde. 

*And not at all shy,' said Lady Montairy, 'though re- 
Aerved.* 

* I admire deep blue eyes with dark lashes,* said the 
Dnchess. 

Notwithstanding tbe decision of Lady Montairy, Lothair 
was 8can:cly free from embarrassment when he rejoined 
the ladies ; and was so afraid of standing alone, or talking 
only to men, that he was almost on tlie point of Ending 
Toftig* in his dinner companions, had not he instinctively 
felt th&t this would have been a social blunder. But the 
Dticbem reUeved him : her graciona glance nought his at 



8 LOTH AIR. 



the right moment, and she rose and met him some way as 
he advanced. The friends had arrived so late, that Lothair 
had had only time to make a reverence of cerumen j before 
dinner. 

' It is not onr first meeting,' said her Grace ; ' bat th&t 
you cannot remember.' 

' Indeed I do,' said Lothair, ' and your Ghraoe gave me a 
golden heart.' 

' How can yon remember such things,' exclaimed tho 
Dachess, ' which I had myself forgotten I ' 

' I have rather a good memory,' replied Lothair ; ' and It 
is not wonderful that I should remember this, for it is the 
only present that ever was made me.' 

The evenings at Brentham were shorty but they were 
sweet. It was a musical family, without being fanatical 
on tho subject. There was always music, but it was not 
permitted that the guests should be deprived of other 
amusements. But music was the basis of the evening's 
campaign. The Duke himself sometimes took a second ; 
the four married daughters warbled sweetly ; but the great 
performer was Lady Corisande. When her impassioned 
tones sounded, there was a hushed silence in every cham- 
ber ; otherwise, many things were said and done amid 
accompanying melodies that animated without distracting 
even a whistplayer. The Duke himself rather preferred a 
game of piquet or ^carte with Captain Mi Id may, and some- 
times retired with a troop to a distant but still visible 
apartment, where they played with billiard balls games 
which were not billiards. 

The ladies had retired, the Duko had taken his glass of 
seltzer water, and had disappeared. The gentlemen lingered 
and looked at each other, as if they were an assembly of 
poachers gathering for an expedition, and then Lord St. 
Aldegonde, tall, fair, and languid, said to Lothair, ' Do yoa 
fixnoke P ' 



■•Kb!* 

'I slunld fa&re Uionght Bertram would bavs sednced 

yon by Uiia time. Then let na try. llontairy wiD give 
yoD one of his cigarettes, bo mild tli&t Lib wife never finds 
a oat.' 



^dozf 



CHAPTEB rV. 

brcok&Bbroom at Brentham was very brigbt. It 
garden of its own, wiiicb, at this Ecason, waa 
BO glowing, and cnltarod into patterns so fanciful and 
finished, that it had the rGsemblaJicQ of a, vast mosaic. 
The walla of the chamber were covered with bright draw- 
inga and ahetchea of our modem masters, and frames of 
interesting miniaturea, and the meal was served on hall'-a- 
■ more round tables, which vied with each other in 
d merriment ; brilliant as a clnster of Greek or 
epablics, instead of a great metropolitan table, Hlca 
central government absorbing all the genins and re- 
MurceB of the Boeiety. 

Every scene in this bfe at Brentham charmed Lothair, 

who, bhongh not consciouB of being of a particnlarly 

loomy temper, often felt that he had, somehow or other, 

itherto passed through life rarely with pleasare, and 

with joy. 

After breakfast the ladies retired to their moming-room, 

the gentlemen strolled to the stables, Lord St. Alde- 

ide lighting a Manilla cheroot of enormous length. As 

itbair was very fond of horses, this delighted tiii^ . The 

•tablea at Brentham were rather too far from the house, 

but they were cagnificent, and tho stnd worthy of them. 

irons and choice, and, above all, it was nseful. 

could supply a readier number of capital riding horses 

any stable in England. Brentham was a great riding 



lo LOTH AIR. 

family. lu the summer season the Dnke deh'ghted to head 
a nnmerons troop, penetrate far into the country, and 
scamper home to a nine o'clock dinner. All the ladies of 
the house were fond and fine horsewomen. The mount of 
one of these riding parties was magical. The dames and 
damsels vaulted on their barbs, and genets, and thorough- 
bred hacks, with such airy majesty ; they were absolutely 
overwhelming with their bewildering habits and their be- 
witching hats. 

Everything was so new in this life at Brentham to 
Lothair, as well as so agreeable, that the first days passed 
by no means rapidly ; for, though it sounds strange, time 
moves with equal slowness whether we experience many 
impressions or none. In a new circle every character is 
a study, and every incident an adventure ; and the multi- 
plicity of the images and emotions restrains the hours. 
But after a few days, though Lothair was not less de- 
lighted, for he was more so, he was astonished at the 
rs^idity of time. The life was exactly the same, but 
equally pleasant ; the same charming companions, the same 
refined festivity, the same fascinating amusements ; but to 
his dismay Lothair recollected that nearly a fortnight had 
elapsed since his arrival. Lord St. Aldegonde also was 
on the wing ; he was obliged to go to Cowes to see a sick 
friend, though he considerately left Bertha behind liim. 
The other son-in-law remained, for he could not tear himself 
away from his wife. He was so distractedly fond of Lady 
Montairy that he would only smoke cigarettes. Lothair 
felt it was time to go, and he broke the circumstance to 
his friend Bertram. 

These two * old fellows,' as they mutually described each 
other, could not at all agree as to the course to be pursued. 
Bertram looked upon Lothair's suggestion as an act of 
desertion from himself. At their time of life, the claims of 
friendship are paramount. And where could Lothair go 




LOTUMR. II 

And whflt was tliere to do ? Nowlicre, and notUinff. 

Iiereafi, if lie ivonld remain a little longer, as tlie Dnke 

Epectod and also t!ie Duchess, Bertnun. would go with 

uiywhere he liked, and do anything he chose. So 

jothair remained. 

In the evening', sealed by Lady Montairy, Lothair ob- 
served on her sister's singing, and said, ' I never heard any 
of OQT great eingera, bnt I cannot believe there ia a finer 
voice in existence.' 

' Corisande's is a. fine voice,' eaid Lady Montaiiy, ' bnt I 
idmiro her expression more than her tone j for there ara 
inly many finer voices, and soma day you wiU heai 

'Bnt 1 prefer expression,' said Lothair very decidedly. 
' Ah, yes 1 donbtless,' aaid Lady Montairy, who wks 
working a pnrsc, ' and that is what we rJI want, I believe ; 
Kt least we matried daughters, they say. My brother, 
Granville St. Aldegonde, says we are all too mncli alike, 
Bnd that Bertha St. Aldegonde wonld be perfect if she had 
no sistera.' 

' I do not at all agree with Lord St. Aldegonde,' said. 
Lothair with energy. 'I do not think it is possible to 
have too many relatives like yon and your siatera.' 

Lady Montairy looked up with a eniile, but slie did not 

meet a smiling cOQnt«nanco. Ho seemed what is called 

an earnest young man, this friend of her brother Bertram. 

^_ At ttia moment the Duke sent ewifl messengers for all 

^Htt come, even the Duchess, to partake in a new game 

^Hfart arrived from Russia, some miracnloua combination 

^^■t billiard-balls. Some rose directly, some lingering a 

' momont arranging their work, bnt all were in motion. 

Corisandfl was at the piano, and disencumbering lier- 

J__«Blf of some music. Lothair went op to her rather 

" raptly: 

'Your singing,' lie said, ' is the finest thing I ever heavd. 



m<*'. 



12 LOTH AIR. 



I am so happj that I am not going to leave Brentham to- 
morrow. There is no place in the world that I think equal 
to Brentham.' 

* And I love it too, and no other place,' she replied ; 
' and I should be quite happj if I never left it.' 



CHAPTER V. 



Lord Moittaist was passionately devoted to croquet. He 
flattered himself that he was the most accomplished male 
performer existing. He would have thought absolut'Olj 
the most accomplished, were it not for the unrivalled feats 
of Lady Montairy. She was the queen of croquet. Her 
sisters also used the mallet with admirable skill, but not 
like Victoria. Lord Montairy always looked forvrard to 
bis summer croquet at Brentham. It was a great croquet 
family, the Brentham family ; even listless Lord St. Alde- 
gonde would sometimes play, with a cigar never out of his 
mouth. They did not object to his smoking in the air. 
On the contrary, ' they rather liked it.' Captain Mildmay, 
too, was a brilliant hand, and had written a treatise on 
croquet, the best going. 

There was a great oroquSt pariy one morning at Brent- 
ham. Some neighbours had been invited who loved the 
sport. Mr. Blenkinsop, a grave young gentleman, whose 
countenance never relaxed while he played, and who was 
understood to give his mind entirely up to croquet. He 
was the owner of the largest estate in the county, and it 
was thought would very willingly have allied himself with 
one of the young ladies of the House of Brentham ; but 
these flowers were always plucked so quickly, that his 
relations with the distinguished circle never grew more 
intimate than croquet. He drove over with some fine 



LOTH AIR. 



tj 



horses imd neveral casea and bags coataituiig iiiBtrniiiiMils 
and weapons for tlie fray. His sister eame with him, who 
hod forty thousaod poimda, bat, they said, in Bome myate- 
rions manner dependent on hLs consent to her marriage j 
and it was added that Mr, Blenkinsop wonld not allow his 
sistor to marry becansc be would misa her so much in his 
favourite pastime. There were some other morning visitors, 
and one or two young cnraten in casBocks. 

It seemed to Lothair a game of great dehberation and of 
raore interest than giuety, though sometimes a cardial 
cheer, and sometimes a ringing laugh of amiable derision, 
notified a signal triumph or a disastrous failure. Bnt the 
ecene was briUiant: a marvellous lawn, the Dncbess'a 
Turkish t«nt with its rich hangings, and the players them' 
selves, the prettie.st of aU the spectacle, with their coquet- 
tish hati?, and their half-veiled and half-rovcaled undor- 
Tsiment, scarlet and silver, or blue and gold, made np n 
sparkling and modish scene. 

Lothair, who had leil the players for awhile and was 
regaining the lawn, mot the Duchess. 

' Yonr Grace is not going to leave oa, I hope 7 ' he said, 
rather anxiously. 

' For a moment. I have long promised to visit the new 
dairy ; and I think this a good opportunity.' 

' Uigbt I bo your companion ? ' said Lothair. 

They turned into a winding walk of thick and fragrant 
shraba, and, after a while, they approached a dell, snr- 
ronnded with high trees that enveloped it with perpetual 
shade ; in the centre of the dell was apparently a Gothio 
shrine, fair in deat^ and finished in execution, and this 
WM the Dnchesa'a new dairy. A pretty sight is a. first- 
rato dairy, with its flooring of fancifLil tiles, and its cool 
and ahrondcd chambers, its stained windows and ita 
marble alabs, and porcelain pans of crcftm, and plentcoue 
platters of fantoatically formed butter. 



14 LOTH AIR. 

*Mr8. Woods and her dairymaidfl look like a Datch 
picture,' said the Duchess. ' Were you ever in Holland P ' 

' I have never been anywhere/ said Lothair. 

' You should travel,' said the Duchess. 

' I have no wish,' said Lothair. 

^ The Duke has given me some Coreean fowls,' said the 
Duchess to Mrs. Woods, when they had concluded their 
visit. ' Do you think you could take care of them for me ?' 

* Well, Grrace, I am sure I will do my best ; but then 
they are very troublesome, and I was not fortunate with 
my Cochin. I had rather they were sent to the aviary, 
Gi*ace, if it were all the same.' 

* I should like to see the aviary,' said Lothair. 

* Well, we will go.' 

And this rather extended their walk, and withdrew them 
more from the amusement of the day. 

' I wish you would do me a great favour,' said Lothair, 
abruptly breaking a rather prolonged silence. 

' And what is that ? ' said the Duchess. 

' It is a very great favour,' repeated Lothair. 

' If it be in my power to grant it, its magnitude would 
only be an additional recommendation.' 

* Well,' said Lothair, blushing deeply, and speaking with 
much agitation, ' I would ask your Grace's permission to 
offer my hand to your daughter.' 

The Duchess looked amazed. * Corisande ! ' she ex- 
claimed. 

* Yes, to Lady Corisande. 

* Corisande,' replied the Duchess, after a pause, ' has 
absolutely not yet entered the world. Corisande is a 
child ; and you, you, my dear friend ; I am sure you will 
pardon me if I say so, you are not very much older than 
Corisande,' 

* I have no wish to enter the world,' said Lothair, with 
much decision* 



LOTIIAIK. i; 

'I aia not an enemy to youtkful marriages,' eaid the 
Dacliess. ' I married early myself, and my children mar- 
ried early ; and I am very happy, Eind 1 hope thiy are ; 
bot some oxpenence of society before we settle is most 
rable, and is one of the conditions I duinot but b&- 

na of that felicity nUich we aU seek.' 
\ ' I hate society,' said Lothair. ' I would never go ont of 
■y domestic circle Lf it were the circle I contemplate.' 

' Uy dear young friend,' said the Dacheas, ' yon coold 

iiily have Gcen enough of society to speak with so mncli 

cisioD.' 

' I Lave seen quite enoagb of it,' said Lothair. ' I went 
to an evening party last season ; I came up from ChriBt- 
chnrch on porpose for it, and if ever they catch me at 
»nother, they shall inflict any penaJty they please.' 

' I fear it was ii stupid party,' said the Duchess, smiling, 
*ad glud to turn, if possible, t!ie conversation into a light«F 

a very grand party, I believe, and not 
[y Btopid ; it was not that ; but I was disgusted with 
I saw and all I heard. It seemed to me a mass of aSeo< 
Jon, falsehood, and malice.' 
Oh ! dear,' said the Duchess, ' how very dreadful ! Bat 
did not niean merely going to parties for society ; I 
,t knowledge of the world, and that experience whloh 
kbies us to form sound opinions ou the afl'airs of Ufa.' 
Ob ! aa fur that,' said Lothair, ' my opinions are already 
formed on eveiy subject; that is to say, every subject of 
importance ; and, what is more, they will never change.* 
1 coald not sny that of Corisiuide,' said tbe Duchegs. 
I think wc agree on all the great things,' said Lothair, 
igly. *Rcr Church views may be a little higher than 
bat I do not antioipate any permanent difhculty on 
Uutt head. Although my uncle made me go to kirk, I 
■JmyB hated it, and always considered myself a cburoh- 



•lo 



P- •v'^M 



t^ LOTHAIR. 

mas. Tlum, m to eiiixrciMs theouelvies, siie s in &voiir of 
KoiUiiTsg ehixrch«iy snd to am I ; and schools, there s no 
nnmh^r of iiehooli I would not establiah. Mj opmion m^ 
jfM amrmrit htkve too rnoch edncatkm, prcmded it be fbnnded 
OA a Pftli^ipniiJi hamn, I would looner renonnoe the whole 
of my inh^rifAnce than eonaent to secular edncation.' 

* I should be sorrj to see anj edncmtioii but % religions 
•dncatmn,' remarked the Dachesa. 

* Wen, then/ said Lothair, * that is otxt life, or a great 
part €X it. To complete it, there is that to which I reallj 
wish to derote mj existence, and in which I instinctiTelj 
fr<el liadj Corisande would sympathise with me, the ex- 
tinction of panperism.' 

' That is a vast subject,' said the Duchess. 

' It is the terror of Europe, and the disgrace of Britain,' 
said Lothair ; ' and I am resolved to grapple with it. It 
seems to me that pauperism is not an affair so much of 
wages as of dwellings. If the working classes were pro- 
perly lodged, at their present rate of wages, they woxdd be 
richer. They would be healthier and happier at the same 
cost. I am so convinced of this, that the moment I am 
master I shall build 2,000 cottages on my estates. I have 
the designs all ready.' 

' I am much in favour of improved dwellings for the 
poor,' said the Duchess ; ' but then you must take care that 
your dwellings are cottages, and not villas like my cousin's, 
the Duke of Luton.' 

'I do not think I shall make that mistake,' replied 
Ii(>thair. ' It constantly engages my thought. I am 
weaned of hearing of my wealth, and I am conscious it 
has never brought me any happiness. I have lived a great 
deal alone, deM-est Duchess, and thought much of these 
things, but I feel now I should be hardly equal to the 
ellbri, unless I had a happy home to fall back upon.' 

* A.nd you will have a happy home in due time,' said the 



LOT H AIR. 



__>2 






ichoas; 'and with Bucb good and g;reut thonghti you 
deaenre one. Hut take the advice of one who loved yonr 
mother, and who would extend to yon the same affection 
fta to her own children : before you take a step which can- 
not be recalled, aee a little more of the world.' 

Lothair shook bia head. 'No,' he said, ailor a pause. 
' My idea of perfect BOcicty is being married as 1 propoae, 
paying visits to Brentham ; and when the viaite to 
itbam ceased, then I should like you and the Duke to 
visits to as.' 
Bat that woqM be a fairy tale,' said the Dnahesa. 
So tlicy walked on in silence. 

Suddenly and abmptiy Lothair turned to the DucheaB 
and said, ' Does your Grace Bce any objection to my spealc- 
iug to yonr daughter ? ' 

* Dear &-iend, indeed yes, What you wonld aay would 
fmly agitate and disturb Corisando. Her character is not 
formeit, and its future is pei^ilexing, at least to rae,' 
inred tlie mother. ' She has not tho simple nature of 
t is a deeper and more complicated mind, and 
.t«h its development with fond but anxious interest.' 
a lighter tone she added, ' Ton do not know very 
\h of OB. Try to know more. Everybody under thU 
views yon with regard, and yon are the brother fjicnd 
onr eldnst son. Wherever wo nro, you will always find 
but do not touch again upon this subject, at Ina^t 
pnwent, for it distresses me.' And then she took his 
and pressed it, and by this time they had gained the 
ia£t ground. 



r^- 



48 LOTH AIR, 



CHAPTER VI 

One of the least known squares in London is Hexham 
Square, though it is one of the oldest. Not that it is vorr 
remote from the throng of existence, but it is isolated in a 
dingy district of silent and decaying streets. Once it wi a 
a favoured residence of opulence and power, and its archi- 
tecture still indicates its former and prouder destiny. But 
its noble mansions are now divided and broken up into 
separate dwellings, or have been converted into chambers 
and offices. Lawyers, and architects, and agents dweU in 
apartments where the richly-sculptured chimneypieces, the 
carved and gilded pediments over the doors, and some- 
times even the painted ceilings, tell a tale of vanished 
stateliness and splendour. 

A considerable portion of the north side of the square is 
occupied by one house standing in a courtyard, with iron 
gates to the thoroughfare. This is Hexham House, and 
where Lord Hexham lived in the days of the first Greorgee 
It is reduced in size since his time, two considerable wings 
having been pulled down about sixty years ago, and their 
materials employed in building some residences of less 
pretension. But the body of the dwelling-house remains, 
and the courtyard, though reduced in size, has been re- 
tained. 

Hexham House has an old oak entrance hall panelled 
with delicacy, and which has escaped the rifling arts of 
speculators in furniture ; and out of it rises a staircase of 
the same material, of a noble character, adorned occasion, 
ally with figures ; armorial animals holding shields, and 
sometimes a grotesque form rising from fruits and flowers, 
all doubtless the work of some famous carver. The stair- 
case leads to a corridor, on which several doors open, and 
throue:h one of these, at the moment of our history, a man. 



a dork casaook and UoMiDg n card in his hand, 
was entering a spacious cbamtx'i', meagerlj, boL not aliab- 
bily, furnished. There was a rich cjvbinet and a fine picture. 
In the next room, not less ejiocioaa, but vhiuh had a more 
inhabited look, a cheerfo] lire, Libles covered witli booica 
and papers, and tvfo individnale busily at work with their 
gH-'UB, he g:ire the card to a gentleman whu wore also the 
casaock. and whu stood before the fire with a book in his 
band, and apparently dictating to one of tlio writers. 

' ImpOBsible !' said the gentleman, shaking his bead; 
' I oould not «vou go in, as Uonsignore Berwick ia with Uia 
Kmineccc.' 

"But what shall I do?' Buid the attendant; 'his 
inence suid that when Mr. Giles called he never waa to 
• denied-' 

I ' The Blonsignore has been here a long time ; you most 
{ Mr. Gilca to wait. Klako bini comfiirlable ; give him 
■newspaper; not the " Tail let," the "Times;" men like 
|r. Giles love reading the advet-tisemeDts. Or stop, give 
a this, his Eminence's lecture on geology ; it will lihow 
Q the Church has no fear of science. Ah ! there 's my 
!, Mr. Giles will not hare to wait long.' So Kkying, the 
Iptleman pnt down bis volume and disappeared through 
k antechambtTr into a further apartment. 

I library, of moderate dimensions, and yet its 
[l-GUed shelves contained all the weapons of learning 
uid controver8y which the deepest and the most active of 
ecclesiastical champions coold require. It was unlike 
modern libraries, for it was one in which fohos greatly 
predominated ; and tbey stood In solemn and sometimes 
inagnifieent array, for they bore, many of them, on theit 
ancjent thoogb costly bindings the pi'oofa that they bad 
to many a prince and even aove reign of theChnrch. 
mantelpiece hung a portjuit of Lia HoUnoe^ 



20 LOTH AIR, 

Kins LX., and on the table, in the midst of many papers^ 
was an ivory cmcifix. 

The master of the library had risen from his seat when 
the chief secretary entered, and was receiving an obeisance. 
Above the middle height, his stature seemed magnified by 
the attenuation of his form. It seemed that the soul never 
had so frail and fragile a tenement. He was dressed in a 
dark cassock with a red border, and wore scarlet stockings ; 
and over his cassock a purple tippet, and on his breast a 
small golden cross. His countenance was naturally of an 
extreme pallor, though at this moment slightly flushed 
with the animation of a deeply interesting conference. His 
cheeks were hollow, and his grey eyes seemed sunk into 
his clear and noble brow, but thoy flashed with irresistible 
[)enetration. Such was Cardinal Grandison. 

'AD that I can do is,' said his Eminence, when Lis visitor 
was ushered out, and slightly shrugging his shoulders, ' is 
to get it postponed until I go to Rome, and even then I 
must not delay my visit. This crossing the Alps in winter 
is a trial ; but we must never repine, and there is nothing 
which we must not encounter to prevent incalculable mis- 
chief. The publication of the Scotch hierarchy at this 
moment will destroy the labours of years. And yet they 
will not see it ! I cannot conceive who is urging them, 
for I am sure they must have some authority frt)m home. 
You have something for me, Chidiock,' he added, en- 
quiringly, for his keen eye caught the card. 

• I regret to trouble your Eminence when you need 
repose, but the bearer of this card seems to have been 
importunate and to have appealed to your name and per- 
sonal orders ; ' and he gave the Cardinal the card. 

^ Yes,' said the Cardinal looking at the card with much 
interest ; * this is a person I must always see.' 

And so in due course they ushered into the library a 
gentleman with a crimson and wcU-stufled bacc, of a com- 



LOTIIAIR- 31 

posed yet cheerful osjiect, who mlilresBcd the CarJmal with 
retipect hot -mthoat einbarrESHment, Baying, ' I am ashamed 
to tronble your Eminence with only matters of form, ftbao- 
lai«]y mere matters of form ; bat I obey, air, your own 



' It ia not for me to deprociftta form,' rejilied the Car- 
dinal J ' and in hnsineRS there are do mere matters of form ' 

' Merely the wood accounts,' continued the visitor ; ' they 
mnst be approved by both the gnardiana, or the money 
mnnot be received by the bankers. Tonr Eminence, yon 
Bee, has sanctioned the felting, and antliorized the Bales, 
and these are the final accounts, which mast be Bigned 
before we pay in." 

'Give tbem to me,' said the Cardinal, Htretcbing ont 
both bis bands as he received a mnss of paper folios. Hia 
Eminence resumed his chair, and hastily eiamined the 
Hheote. ' Ah ! ' he said, ' no ordinary felling ; it reaches 
over seven coantics. By tbe bye, Bracewood Forest j 
what abont the enclosure? I have heard no more of it.' 
Then, murmuring to himfielf, ' Grentham Wood ; how woU 
1 remember Grentham Wood, with bis dear father ! ' 

' If wc oonld sign to-day,' said the visitor in a tone of 
professional cajolery : ' time is important.' 

'And it eliall not be waited,' replied the Cardinal. 'Bat 

tmnst look over the accounts. I donbt not all is quite 
pilar, bot I wish to make myself & little familiar witli 
t scene of action ; perbaps to recall the past,' he added. 
'ou shall have them to-morrow, Mr. Giles.' 
' Yonr Eminence will have very different accounts to 
He in a sliart time,' said Mr. Giles, smiling. ' Wo are 
ni nt work ; it takes throe of our clerks constantly 
ocx-opied.' 

' But you have yet got time.' 



' I don't know that,' siud Mr, Gil< 



' The affairs e 



' large. 



ud the 



I tlioy give us tho greatest 



r^> 



22 LOTH AIR. 



trouble. Our Mr. James Roundell was two montbs in 
Wales last year about them. It took up the whole of hia 
vacation. And jour Eminence must remember that time 
flies. In less than eight months he will be of age.' 

* Very true,* said the Cardinal ; * time indeed flies, and 
so much to be done ! By the bye, ^f r. Giles, have you by 
any chance heard anything lately of my child ? * 

* I have heard of him a good deal of late, for a client of 
ours, Lord Montairy, met him at Brentham this summer, 
And was a long time there with him. Afler that, I hear, 
he went deer-stalking with some of his young friends ; bat 
lie is not very fond of Scotland ; had rather too much of it, 
I suspect ; but the truth is, sir, I saw him this very day.' 

* Indeed ! ' 

* Some affairs have brought him up to town, and I 
rather doubt whether he will return to Oxford ; at least, 
80 he talks.' 

* Ah ! I have never seen him since he was an infant, I 
might say,' said the Cardinal. ' I suppose I shall see him 
again, if only when I resign my trust ; but I know not. 
And yet few things would be more interesting to me than 
to meet him ! * 

Mr. Giles seemed moved, for him almost a little embar- 
ra.ssed ; he seemed to blush, and then he cleared his throat. 
* It would be too great a liberty,* said Mr. Giles, * I feel 
that 7ery much ; and yet, if your Eminence would con- 
descend, though I hardly suppose it possible, his Lordship 
is really going to do us the honour of dining with us to- 
day ; only a few friends, and if your Eminence could make 
the sacrifice, and it were not an act of too great presump. 
tion to ask your Eminence to join our party.' 

* I never eat and I never drink,* said the Cardinal. * 1 
am sorry to say I cannot. I like dinner society very much. 
You see the world, and you hear things which you do not 
hear otherwise. For a time I presumed to accept invito^ 



LOTHAIR. 13 

ions, though I sat with an empty plate; but IhoogV. the 
world was indalgent to me, I folt that my habits were an 
tonbarr&SHment tx> the happier fenst«rs : it was not fair, and 
so I gave it op. But 1 tell you wlmt, Mr. Giks : I ehaJl be 
in your quarter this evening ; perhaps yon wonld permit 
me to drop in and pay my respects to Mrs. Gilea : I havp 
wiahed to do bo before.' 



b 



CHAPTER VTL 



Mb. Gilrb whh a leading partner in the firm of RonndellB, 

Giles, and Ronndidl, amiing the most eminent Eolicitors of 

inooln's Inu. He, in tbefle days of prolonged maturity, 

ilght be described aa etill a yoniig man. He had in- 

rited &om bis father a large share in a first-mt« hnsiness, 

ttd no inconsiderable fortune ; and he had a wife, cele- 

nted in ber circle, bnt no t:bildren. He was opnlcnt and 

Dsperons, with no cares and anxieties of hia own, and 

d hia profession, for wliich he was pecnliarly qnabfied, 

an of oncommoQ sagacity, very difficult to deceive. 

Hid yet one who sympathised with hia olients, who were 

I pGraonally attached to him, and many of whom were 

mong the distiiigniBhrd personages of the realiTi. 

Daring an important professional visit to Ireland, Mr. 

Oil us had made the aeqnaintance of Mins ApoUonie. 

Smylie. the nieee of an Irish peer ; and thongh the lady 

wu much admired and courted, had anccoedod, after a 

n inducing her to btwome the partner of his life. 

L Ure. Giles, or as she described hereulf Mrs. Pntnfiy Giles, 

ing advantage nf n second and t^rritoi'i.il Chvistinn 

me of ber hnaband, wua a sbowy woman ; decidedly 

idsome, unquestionably accomplished, and gifted witb 

and enthnaiasm which far exceeded eren her 



a^ LOTBAIR. 

phjsinl AJTftiiteges. Her piuici|wl miMion waa to de- 
ttmj the I^pacy and to atotre Italian nnily. Uer leaser 
uupaJsea wera to beram* actpninted with the aristocr»cf , 
and to be lieraelf aamMuided by celebrities. Hftving a fine 
bouse in l^bnnua, almost as showy as herself, and a has- 
baud who waa never so ^ppy aa when gratifying her 
wishes, she did not find it difficult in a coostdcrable degrev 
to pursue and ereti accomplish faer objects. The Patney 
Giles gave a great Diany dinners, and Urs. Putney rec^ved 
faer world troqaeotly.ifacFt periodically. Astheyeutert^aed 
witb prafnuon, her well-lighted aaloona wera oonffldcraUtf 
attended. These asaenUies wct« never doll ; tbe materialB 
not beii^ ordinary, often startling sometimea even fari)> 
liant, occasionally rather beterog^neoos. For thoagh being 
a violent Proteetant and of extreme conservative opioioca, 
her antipapal antipatliiea and her Italian predilootionB tn- 
qaently involved ber with acqnaintancea not so dia- 
tingnished as she deemed herself for devotion to the caoM 
of order aud orthodoxy. It waa mmonred tliat the brood- 
ing brow of Mauini had been observed in her rooms, and 
there was no sort of qneetion that she bad thrown heraelf 
in ecstatic idolatry at the feet of the hero of Caprera. 

On the morning of the day on which he intended to visit 
Cardinal Grandison, Mr, Giles, in his chambers at Lincoln's 
Inn, was suddenly apprised by a clerk, that an interview with 
him waa songht bya chent no less distinguished than Lothair. 

Although Ur. Giles sat opposite two rows of tin boxes, 
each of which was nombered, and dnly inscribed with tfaa 
name of Lothair and that of the particular estate to whioh 
It referred, Mr. Giles, though he had had occasional com- 
mnnieations with his chent, was pta-sonally unacquainted 
with liim. He viewed therefore with no ordinary curiositT 
the young man who was nshcred into Lis room; a 
shapely youth above tbe middle height, of simple bnt dia- 
tingnisbed mien, with a conntenanoe naturally pale, tbongb 



iwliat bronzed bj a liTe of air &iid exerciBD, and n, pro- 
dork anbiini bair. 
And for what conld Lothiiir be calling on Mr. Giles ? 
It sooma tbat one of Lotbair's intimal« companions had 
^^gi>t into a ecmpo, and nnder these circnmstaDCca had what 
^Kp styled 'mado a &iend' of Lothair; that Js to say, con- 
^Hjded to liim bis trouble, and asked bia advice, with a view, 
^^■llen ^ren, of its being followed hy an oSer of assiHtancc. 
^^K Lothair, though inexperienced and very ingcnnoaa, waa 
^^Bt devoid of a certain instinctive perception of men and 
^^BpngB, which rendered it difficult for him to bo an easy 
ftvj. His natural disposition, and his comparatively soli- 
tary odacation, had made him a keen observer, and be was 
cue who meditated over his observations. Bab he was 
natnrallj- generone and eenaihlo of kindness ; and this waa 
n fivvourite companion, next to Berti'am hia most intimate. 

Lotliair was qait« happy in tlie opportunity of soothing 
B perturbed spirit whose society had been to him a source 
vf so mneh gratification. 

It wftfl not until Ix'thair had promised to extricate his 
friend frora hia overwhelming difficulties, that, upon reflec- 
tion and examination, be found the act on his part was not 
BO simple and so easy as he had assumed it to be. Hia 
guardians had apportioned to him an allowance in every 
aense adeqntite to hia position ; and tlicre was no doubt, 
hnd he wished to exceed it for any legitimata purpose, not 
the slightest difficulty on their part would have been 
experienced. 

Such a conjuncture had never occurred. Lothair waa 
profnse, bnt he waa not prodigal. He gratified all hia 
laocies, but they were not ignoble ones ; sod he was not 
only sentimentalJy, but systematically, charitable. He hud 
a f^reat number of fine horses, and he had just paid for an 
expeoaive yacht. In a word, bo spent a great deal of 
money, and until he called at his bankers t/i learn whal 



26 LOTH AIR. 

sums were at his disposition he was noi aware that he bad 
overdrawn his account. 

This was rather awkward. Lothair wanted a consider- 
able sum, and he wanted it at once. Irrespective of the 
consequent delay, he phrunk from any communication with 
hLs guardians. From his uncle he had become, almost in- 
sensibly, estranged, and with his other guardian he had 
never had the slightest communication. Under these cir- 
cumstances he recalled the name of the solicitor of the 
trustees, between whom and himself there had been occa- 
sional correspondence ; and being of a somewhat impetuous 
disposition, he rode off at once fi'om his hotel to Lincoln's 
Inn. 

Mr. Giles listened to the nan<ative with unbroken in- 
terest and unswerving patience, with his eyes fixed on hia 
client, and occasionally giving a sympathetic nod. 

' And so,* concluded Lothair, ' I thought I would oome 
to you.' 

* We are honoured,' said Mr. Giles. * And certainly it 
is quite absurd that your Lordship should want money, and 
for a worthy purpose, and not be able to command it. 
Why ! the balance in the name of the trustees never was so 
great as at this moment ; and this very day, or to-morrow 
at furthest, I shall pay no less than eight-and- thirty 
thousand pounds timber money to the account.' 

* Well, I don't want a fiflh of that,* said Lothair. 

* Your Lordship has an objection to apply to the 
trustees ? ' enquired Mr. Giles. 

* That is the point of the whole of my statement,' said 
Lothair, somewhat impatiently. 

'And yet it is the right and regular thing,' said Mr. 
Giles. 

* It may be right and it may be regular, but it is out of 
the question.' 

* Then we will say no more about it. Wliat I want to 



LOTH AIR. 



27 



^ *tely ; 



mii Mr. Giles, mi]§ingly, 'ia anytliing absard 
liappeniag. Tliero is no doobt if yonr Lordship went into 
tho atreet and said yon wanted ten thnUKacd pounds, or a 
hundred thousand, fifty people wotild supply jou uninedi- 
«tcly 1 tint yoa nonid have to pay for it. Some enorraous 
Tliat would be bad \ but the absurdity of the 
ig wooJd be greatiCr than tbe mischief. Konndclla, 
Qilee, and Ronndell oonld not help you in tbut manner. 
That 18 not oar busiueBS. We are glad to find money for 
onr cUenta at a h}pi\ rate of intereRt, and the most moderate 
rate feasible. But then there must be set-urity, and tbe 
beat security. Bnt here we must not eoncL-ul it from our. 
Belvea, my Lord, we have no security whatever. At tliia 
moment your Lordship has no property. An inHixranoe 
ght do it with a policy. They might consider that 
ly had a moral eecurily; bnt stilt it woald be abaard. 
!re is something abetird in yoar Lordship having to raise 
Don't yoa think I could see these people,' said 
■. Giles, 'and (aII: to tbem, and gsin a little time. We 
.t a little time.' 

eaid Lothair, in a peremptory tone. ' I said I 
3 it, and it must be done, and at once. Sooner 
tliere sbonld be delay, I nould rather go into the 
nggpst, and HKk the first man I met to lend 
the money. My word has been given, and I do not 
whut I pay to fulfil ray word.' 
Wb must not think of such things,* said Mr. Giles, 
ing his head. ' All I want your Lordship to understand 
tbe exact position. In this case we have no secnrity, 
.ndclls, Gi!es, and Roundell cannot move without 
■ecority. It would be against oar articles of partnership. 
Bat Mr. Giles, as a private individual, mity do what he 
likea. I will let your Lordship have tbe money, and 1 will 
takv DO eecnrity whatever, not even a note ot hand. All 
that I will ask for is that your Lordfihip should writ« me a 



2$ LOTHAIR. 



lett^ njuig Tcm bave ni^i^exit need for m sura of money 
(Tnendoning mmonnt) for an hononrable pnrpose, in which 
TOUT feelings are deeply interested ; and that will do. If 
anyihin^: happens to toot Lordship before this time next 
rear, whv, I think the tmstees could hardly refnse repay- 
ini: the money ; and if they did, why then,* added Mr. 
Giles, * I suppose it will be all the same a hundred years 
hence.' 

' Yon have conferred on me the greatest obligation,* said 
Lothair, with much earnestness. * Language cannot ex- 
press what I feeL I am not too much used to kindnesa, 
and I only hope that I may lire to show my sense of yours.* 

* It is really no great affair, my Lord,' said Mr. Giles. * I 
did not wish to make difficulties, but it was my duty to put 
the matter clearly before yon. What I propose to do is 
really nothing. I could do no less; I should have felt 
quite absurd if your Lordship had gone into the money 
market.' 

* I only hope,' repcat<>d Lot hair, rising and offering Mr. 
Giles his hanil, * that life may give me some occasion to 
prove my gratitude.' 

* Well, my Lonl,' replied Mr. Giles, * if your Lordship 
wish to repay me for any little interest I have shown in 
your affairs, you can do that, over and over again, and at 
once.' 

* How so ? * 

* By a very great favour, by which Mrs. Giles and 
myself would be deeply gratified. We have a few friends 
who honour us by dining with us to-day in Hyde Park 
Gardens. If your Lordship would add the great distinc- 
tion of your presence ' 

*I should only be too much honoured,* exclaimed 
Lotliair ; ' I suppose alxMit eight ;' and he left the room ; 
and Mr. Giles telegraphed instantly the impending eMent 
to ApoUonia. 



vaB a great day for Apollonia ; not onlj to have LotliaJr 
her right hand at dinner, but the prospect of n 
Cardmal m tbo evening. But she was equal to it ; 
thoagh 60 engroaacd, indec<l, in the immediato gratification 
of her hopoB find wishes, that Bho could Bcarcely dwell suffi- 
ciently on the coming sccoe of triamph and BocinJ es- 
citcment. 

The repast was Bncnptuoua; Lothair thought the dinner 
would never end, there were ao many dishes, and apparently 
all of the highest pretension. But if bis eimple tostca had 
permitted him to take an interest in these details, which 
tfaey did not, he would have been assisted by a splendid 
iQ of gold and white typography, that waa by the side 
«aoh gQOst. The table seemed literally to groan under 
and gignntie flagons, and, in its midst, rose a moun- 
tain of silver, on which apparently all the cardinal virtues, 
several of tlie pa^n deities, and Britannia herself, illus- 
tml«d with many lights a glowing inscription which 
described the fuTvent feelings of a grateful client. 

Tht-ro were many gneats : the Dowager of Farringford, 
a lady of quality, Apollonia'a great laily, who exercised 
under lliis roof ranch social tyrsjiny ; in short, was rather 
fine ; bat who, on this occasion, was sorai-wliat cowed by 
the undreamt-of presence of Ixithair. She had not yet 
met him, and probably never would have met liini, bad she 
not had the good fortune of dining at his lawyer's. How- 
ever, Lady FarriugTord was placed a long way from Lotbair, 
baring been taken down to dinner by Mr. Giles, and so, 
by the end of the first conrae, Lady Farriugrord had nearly 
reaumed her cnstomary despotiD rein, and was beginning 



i 



30 LOTHAIR. 

to indulge in several kind observational, cheapening her 
host and hostess and indirectly exalting herself; upon 
which Mr. Giles took an early easy opportunity of ap- 
prising Lady Farringford that she had nearly met Cardinal 
Grandison at dinner, and that his Eminence would cer- 
tainly pay his respects to Mrs. Putney Giles in the evening. 
As Lady Farringford was at present a high ritualist, 
and had even been talked of as * going to Rome,' this in- 
telligence was stunning, and it was observed that her 
Ladyship was unusually subdued during the whole of the 
second course. 

On the right of Lothair sate the wife of a Vice>Ghan- 
oellor, a quiet and pleasing lady, to whom Lothair, with 
natural good bi'oeding, paid snatches of happy attention, 
when he could for a moment with propriety withdraw him> 
self from the blaze of Apollonia*s coruscating conversation. 
Then there was a rather fierce-looking Red Ribbon, medal- 
led as well as be-starrcd, and the Red Ribbon's wife, with 
a blushing daughter, in spite of her parentage not yet 
accustomed to stand fire. A partner and his unusually 
numerous family had the pleasure also of seeing Lothair 
for the first time, and there were no less than four M.P.'s, 
one of whom was even in office. 

ApoUonia was stating to Lothair, with brilliant perspi- 
cuity, the reasons which quite induced her to believe that 
the Gulf Stream had changed its course, and the political 
and social consequences that might accrue. 

* The religious sentiment of the Southern races must be 
wonderfully aficctcd by a more rigorous climate,' said 
Apollonia. ' I cannot doubt,' she continued, * that a series 
of severe winters at Rome might put an end to Romanism.' 

' But is there any fear that a reciprocal influence might 
be exercised on the INorthem nations P ' enquired Lothair. 
' Would there be any apprehension of our Protestantrsm 
becoming propoiiionately relaxed P ' 



*(Jf course not,' said ApoUonia. 



' Tmtb cannot be 
te in FalcstinQ and 



climtite. TraLh u 
ScaDdinavia.' 

' I wonder wbul, the Cardinal would think of this,' said 

Lolliair, ' who, jou tell ma, la coming to you tbia evening.' 

' Yea, I ma most iuterested to see him, though lie ia the 

moBt [luiBSujit of our foes. Of courso ho would bike refoge 

in sophiittrj ; and soienee, yon know, they deny.' 

'Cardinal Grandison i§ giving Bome lectures on scionco,' 
■aid the Vice- Chancel I oi-' 3 lady, quietly. 

' It ia remorse," said Apollonia, ' Their clever men can 
never forget thiit unlortnnate afialr of Galileo, and think 
ihej caji divert the ijidignation of the nineteenth centniy 
by mock zeal a'lout red sandstone or the origin of species.* 
'And are you afraid of the Gulf Stream?' eaqaired 
Lotbair of his cijmer neighbour, 

' I Ibink we want mom evidence of a change. The 
Ificn- Chance II or and 1 went down to a place we bave near 
I on Saturday, where there is a very nice piece of 
■kter; indeed, some people call it a lake; it WLts quite 
in, and my boys wanted to skate, bat that I wonld not 
mit' 

'Ton bcliova in tlie Golf Stream to that extent,' said 
skating.' 

\ Tbe Carviinal eame early ; the ladies bad not ]ong loft 

■ dining-room. They were agitated when bis name waa 

laonnced ; even ApoUoiiia's beart beat ; but then that 

[gbt be wTconnted for by the inopportune recollection of 

k occasioual corrospondeni-e with Caprei'a. 

1 Kothing could exceed the simple suavity with which tbe 

Cardinal appeared, appruuehed, and greote<l ihem. He 

tWiked Apollonia for her pemusBiou to pay lus re^'jiectB to 

her, which be bad long wiiibed to do ; and then they were 

'esentod, and he said eica.ctly the right thing to evei^'- 

ile mUGt bava heard of them all before, or recid 



rw 



32 LOTH AIR. 



their chaiuctera in tbeir conntenanoos. In a few minutes 
thej were all listening to his Eminence with enchanted 
ease, as, sitting on the sofa by his hostess, he described to 
them the ambassadors who had jnst arrived from Japan, 
and with whom he had relations of interesting affairs. The 
Japanese Government had exhibited enlightened kindness 
to some of his poor people who had barely escaped martyr- 
dom. Mnch might be expected from the Mikado, evidently 
a man of singular penetration and elevated views ; and his 
GminoDce looked as if the mission to Yokohama would 
speedily end in an episcopal see ; but he knew where he 
was, and studiously avoided all controversial matter. 

After all, the Mikado himself was not more remarkable 
than this Prince of the Church in a Tybumian drawing- 
room, habited in his pink cassock and cape, and waving, as 
he spoke, with careless grace his pink baiTetto. 

The ladies thought the gentlemen rejoined them too soon ; 
but Mr. Giles, when he was apprised of the arrival of the 
Cardinal, thought it right to precipitate the symposium. 
With great tact, when the Cardinal rose to greet him, Mr. 
Giles withdrew his Eminence from those surrounding, 
and, after a brief interchange of whispered words, quitted 
him, and then brought forward and presented Lothair to 
the Cardinal, and left them. 

' This is not the first time that we should have met,' said 
the Cardinal; *but my happiness is so great at this 
moment that, though I deplore, I will not dwell on, the 
past' 

* I am, nevertheless, grateful to you, sir, for many ser- 
vices, and have more than once contemplated taking the 
liberty of personally assuring your eminence of my gra- 
titude.' 

* I think we might sit down,' said the Cardinal, looking 
around ; and then he led Lothair into an open but interior 
saloon, where none were yet present, and where they seated 



LOTftAIR. 33 

mselres on n sofa, and were soon eogBged in BpparenQv 
terestin^ converse. 
f In the raeautune the world gradaallj filled tlie pHncipal 
[i of Apollonia, and when it approftched overBowing, 
ionaily some persons passed the line, and entered the 
in wbicli the Cardinal and hia waid were seated, and 
as if conscioas of violating some sacred place, drew 
Others, on tJie contmry, with ciiarser cariosity, were 
^nced to invoile the chamhc^r from the mere fact that tlia 
a to bo seen tliere. 
*My gEOgrnphical instinct," said the Cardinal to Lothair, 
'nasTipes me that I can regain the staircase through UicitB 
rooms, wilhottt rejoining Uio bnsy world ; so I shall bid yon 
good nighf, and even presume to give you my blesaingj' 
and his Eminence glided away. 

When Loi-bair retnrncd to the saloon it wai so crowded 

thftt be WAS not observed ; exactly what he liked ; and be 

jod against the wall watching all that passed, not with- 

t amasement. A lively, social parasite, who had dined 

1, and bad thanked bis stars at dinner tbat fortnne had 

1 be should meet Lothair, had been cmising for bis 

uce ftll the time tbat Lothair had been conversing with the 

dinal, and was soon at his side. 
' A Btrnngo scene thin ! ' said the parasite. 

• la it onusual ? ' enquired Lothair. 

i*Stich a medley! How they can be got together, I 
pricsta and pliilosophera, legitiniists and car- 
lari ! Wonderful woman, Mrs. Putney Giles ! ' 
*Sbe i> very entertaining,' said Lotliair, 'and Bceras to 

• clever.' 

'Bemarltahly so,' said the parasite, who had been on the 
bnit of aatirising hia hostess, but, observing the c|nart«r of 
» wind, with rapidity went in for praise. ' An e»tra- 
nun. Tour Lordaliip bad a long talk with the 
rdinal.' 



34 LOTH AIR. 



* I had the honour of Bome oonyorsation with GardinBl 
Orandison,' said Lothair, drawing up. 

* I wonder what the Cardinal would have said if he had 
met Mazzini here ? ' 

< Mazzini ! Is he here P ' 

' Not now ; hut I have seen him here,' said the parasite, 
' and our host such a Tory ! That makes the thing so 
amusing;' and then the parasite went on making small 
personal ohservations on the surrounding scene, and every 
now and then telling little tales of great people with whom, 
it appeared, he was intimate : all concerted fire to gain the 
very groat social fortress he was now hesieging. The 
parasite was so full of himself and so anxious to display 
himself to advantage, that with all his practice it was some 
time before he perceived he did not make all the way he 
could wish with Lothair, who was courteous, but some- 
what monosyllabic and absent. 

' Your Lordship is struck by that face P ' said the para- 
site. 

Was Lothair struck by that face P And what was it ? 

He had exchanged glances with that fiasco during the last 
ten minutes, and the mutual expression was not one of 
sympathy, but curiosity, blended, on the part of the fiace, 
with an expression, if not of disdain, of extreme reserve. 

it* was the face of a matron, apparently of not many 
summers, for her shapely figure was still slender, though 
her mien was stately. But it was the countenance that 
had commanded the attention of Lothair: pale, but per- 
fectly Attic in outline, with the short upper lip and the 
round chin, and a profusion of dark chesnut bair bound by 
a Grecian fillet, and on her brow a star. 

* Yes, I am struck by that face. Who is it ? * 

' If your Lordship could only get a five-francpiece of the 
last French Republic, 1850, you would know. I dare say 
the moneychangers could get you one. All the artists of 




LOTH AIR. 



Paris, pamters, and scnlpton, and medalliBts, wore com' 
peting to produce a face worthy of representing " La H^ 
pnbliqne Cran^aise;" nobody was satiafied, when Oadina 
esDgbt a girl of not seventeen, and, with a literal repro- 
duction of nature, gained the prize with onanimity.' 
■Ah!' 






And though years have passed, the countenance has 
it changed; perhaps improved.' 
It ia a countenance thitt will bear, perhaps even would 
,ta.nty,' said Lothair ; ' but slie is no loDger " La 
.bhqne fran^nise;" what ia she now ?' 
■ She ia called Theodora, though married, I believe, to an 
Englishman, a friend of Garibaldi. Her birth unknown ; 
tome say an Italian, some a Pole ; all sorts of stories. But 
she speaks evoiy language, ia ultracosmopolitan, and baa 
invented a new religion.' 

' Wnold yoar Lordship care to bo introduced to her ? 1 
know her enough for that. Shall we go up to her ? ' 

* 1 have mode so many new acqaaintaucca to-daj,' stud 
Lothair, as it were starting from a reverie, 'and indeed 
hcfird so many new things, that I think I hod better say 
gcx>d night)' and he graciously retired. 



" CSAPTEE tX. 

About the same time that Ijothair had repaired to the 
PQHidenee of Mr. Giles, ^lonsigngre Berwick, whoae audience 
of the Cardinal in the morning had preceded that of the 
l^al adviser of the trustees, made his way towards one of 
the noblest mansions in St. James's Sqnare, wlicre resided 
Lord St. Jerome. 

It xnn a mild winter ereninff ; a bttle fog still hanging 






36 LOTH A JR. 



al)oat, but Tanqnished by the cheerful lamps, and the voice 
of the muffin boll was just heard at intervals; a genial 
sound that calls up visions of trim and happj hearths. If 
we could only so contrive our lives as to go into the 
country for the first note of the nightingale, and return to 
town for the first note of the muffin bell, existence, it is 
humbly presumed, might be more enjoyable. 

Monsignore Berwick was a young man, but looking 
younger from a countenance almost of childhood ; fair, with 
light blue eyes, and flaxen hair and delicate features. He 
was the last person you would have fixed upon as a bom 
Roman; but nature, in one of the freaks of race, had 
resolved that his old Scottish blood should be re- asserted, 
though his ancostors had sedulously blended it, for many 
generations, with that of the princely houses of the eternal 
city. The Monsignore was the greatest statesman of 
Rome, formed and favoured by Antonelli, and probably his 
successor. 

The mansion of Lord St. Jerome was a real family 
mansion, built by his ancestors a century and a half ago, 
when they believed that from its central position, its happy 
contiguity to the Court, the senate, and the seats of 
Government, they at last in St. James's Square had dis- 
covered a site which could defy the vicissitudes of fashion, 
and not share the fate of their river palaces, which they 
had been obliged in turn to relinquish. And in a con- 
siderable degree they were right in their anticipation, 
for although they have somewhat unwisely permitted the 
Clubs to invade too successfally their territory, St. James's 
Square may be looked upon as our Faubourg St. Germain, 
and a great patrician residing there dwells in the heart of 
that fi-ee and noble life of which he ought to be a part. 

A marble hall and a marble staircase, lofly chambers 
with silk or tapestried hangings, gilded cornices, and 
painted ceilings, gave a glimpse of almost Venetian splen- 




LOTHAIR. 37 

in our metropolitan honsee of this ags ; bat the 
t dwollsrs in St. James's Square had tender and in- 
spiring recollectioDS of iLe Adrian bride, had frolicked in 
St, Mark's, and gliJed in adventnrons gondolas. The 
^—^nsignore was asliered into a cLumbcr bright with lights 
^Kttd a blazing £re, and welcomed with extreme ixii*diality 
^^n his hostess, who wos then alone. Lady St. Jerome was 
^HtiU t]ie young wife of a nobleman not old. She was the 
danghter of a Protestant honse, but, daring a residence at 
Rome aller her marriage, xhe iiad reverted to the ancient 
fuilb, which she profeaseJ with the enthnaiaBtic convictiona 
of a convert. Her whole life was dedicated to the triamph 
of the Catholic cause ; and being a woman of considerable 
intelligence and of an ardent mind, she had become a 
reoognisod power in tlie great confederacy which baa so 
mach inBu-cnced the human race, and which has yet to 
jjlay perhaps a mighlj part in the fortunes of the world. 

* I was in great hopea that the Cardinal would have met 
you at dinner,' said Lady St. Jerome, ' hut he wrote only 
this afternoon to say unexpected business would prevent 
him, hnt be wonld be here in the evening, though late.' 

' It must be something sudden, for I was with bis 
Eminence thia morning, and be then contemplated oor 
mi-eting here.' 

' Nothing from abroad F' 

' I shonld think nni, or it would be known to me. There 
^ig nothing new from abroad this aft-emoon : my time hiis 
^Hben spent in writing, not receiving, despatches.' 
^B • And aU well, I hope P ' 

^^H* This Scotch business places ua. So far aa Scotland ia 
^^Eocerned it is quit« ripe ; but the Cardinal counsels delay 
^^■D account of this country, and he has such a consummate 

^^■aowlodge of England, that ' 

I At tJiis moment Lord St. Jerome entered the room : a 

gikra bat gracious personage, polished but looking silent, 



fr^ 



38 LOTH AIR. 



ihoagh he immediately turned the oonversation to the 
weather. The Monsignore began denouncing English fogs ; 
but Lord St. Jerome maintained that, on the whole, there 
were not more fogs in England than in any other country ; 
' and as for the French,' he added, ' I like their audacity, 
for when they revolutionised the calendar, they called one 
of their months Brumaire.' 

Then came in one of his Lordship's chaplains, who 
saluted the Monsignore with reverence, and immediately 
afterwards a beautiful young lady, his niece, Glare 
Arundel. 

The family were Uving in a convenient suite of small 
rooms on the ground-floor, called the winter rooms, so 
dinner was announced by the doors of an adjoining chamber 
being thrown open, and there they saw, in tiie midst of a 
chamber hung with green silk and adorned with some fine 
cabinet-pictures, a small round table bright and glowing. 

It was a lively dinner. Lord St. Jerome loved conver- 
sation, though he never conversed. ' There must be an 
uudience,* he would say, 'and I am the audience.' The 
partner of his life, whom he never ceased admiring, had 
originaUy fascinated him by her conversational talents; 
and even if nature had not impelled her. Lady St. Jerome 
was too wise a woman to relinquish the spell. The Mon- 
signore could always, when necessary, sparkle with anecdote 
or blaze with repartee ; and all the chaplains, who abounded 
in this house, were men of bright abilities, not merely men 
of reading but of the world, learned in the world's ways, 
and trained to govern mankind by the versatility of their 
sympathies. It was a dinner where there could not be two 
conversations going on, and where even the silent take 
their share in the talk by their sympathy. 

And among the silent, as silent even as Lord St. Jerome, 
was Miss Arundel ; and yet her large violet eyes, darker 
even than her dark brown hair, and gleaming with inteUi- 



De, and her rio)) face maintling with emotion, prored she 
not iDsenitible to tbe witty pasaages and the bright and 
int«re8tiiig oairativefi lliat were sparkling and flowing about 
hcp. 

The g«iitiomea left the dining-room with the ladioa in 
thtt continent-al manner. Lady St. Jerome, who was leon- 
ine oa the arm of the Moosignore, guided him into a ealoon 
farther than the one they had re-entered, and thoa neating 
hi-raolf saitl, 'Yon were telling me about Scotland, that you 
yourself thought it ripe.' 

■ Unqneationably, Tbe original plan waa to have Cfitiu 

blished our biorsirchy when the Kirk split up; bat that 

would have been a mistake ; it wa.'i not then ripe. There 

would have been a fanatical reaction. Tliere Is always a 

tendency that way in Scotland : as it is, at this moment, 

the Kstabhstuncnt and the Free Kirk are mutually sighing 

for BomecompromiBe whic;li may bring them together again ; 

and if the proprietors would give up their petty patronage, 

some flatter themaclvea it might be arrangi.-d. lint we are 

thorooghly well-informed, and have provided fur all this. 

We sent two of oar best men into Scotland some time ago, 

and they have invented a now Church, culled the United 

. Pt*cabyt«rians. John Knox himself was never more violent, 

m^f more mischievous. The United Presbyterians will do 

^Hke bosincsB : they will render Scotland simply impossible 

^^B live in ; and then, when the ciisis arrives, the disti-act«d 

^^«d despairing milhona will 6nd refuge in tlie bosom of 

their oiJy mother. That is why, at home, we want*;d no 

delay in the publication of the halt and the establishment 

of tbe hierarchy,' 

' Bot the Cardinal says no ?' 

' Aj)d most be followed. Far thesa islands he has no 
equal. Ue wishes great reserve at present. AHairs hers 
are progressing, gradually but surely. But it, is Ireland 
where matters ara critical, or will be soon.' 



rm 



40 LOTH AIR. 



' Ireland ! I thonglit there was a sort of nndcrstonding 
there, at least for the present.' 

The Monsignore shook his head, ' What do joa think of 
an American invasion of Ireland 't ' 

* An American invasion !' 

* Even so ; nothing more prohahle, and nothing more to 
be deprecated by us. Now that the civil war in America 
is over, the Irish soldiery are resolved to employ their 
experience and their weapons in their own land ; bat they 
have no thought for the interest of the Holy See, or the 
welfare of our Holy religion. Their secret organisation is 
tampering with the people and tampering with the priests. 
The difficulty of Ireland is that ihe priests and the people 
will consider everything in a purely Irish point of view. 
To gain some local object, they will encourage the pnncipleB 
of the most lawless liberalism, which naturally land them 
in Feuianism and Atheism. And the danger is not fore- 
seen, because the L sh political object of the moment is 
alone looked to.' 

* But surely they c m be guided ?' 

' We want a states man in Ireland. We have never been 
able to find one ; we want a man like the Cardinal. But 
the Irish will have a native for their chief. We canght 
Churchill young, and educated him in the Propaganda; 
but he has disappointed us. At first all seemed well ; he 
was reserved and austere ; and we heard with satisfaction 
that he was unpopular. But now that critical times are 
arriving, his peasant blood cannot resist the contagion. 
He proclaims the absolute equaUty of all religions, and of 
the power of the state to confiscate ecclesiastical property, 
and alienate it for ever. For the chance of subverting the 
Anglican Establishment, he is favouring a policy which 
will subvert religion itself. In his eagerness he cannot see 
that the Anglicans have only a lease of our property, a 
lease which is rapidly expiring.' 



LOTH AIR. 41 

■Tbig is gad.' 

* It is perilous, and difficnlt to dcat witli. But it mnat be 
t with. The problfiin m to anppress Feniajiism, and not 

A strengthen the Protestant confudtiracy.' 
t ' And you left Rome for this ? We niiderst-ood yoa wora 
something ulse,' baid Lad; St. Jerome in a 
[tiilicant tone. 

* Tes, yes, I have been tLoro, and I have seen hixa.' 
' And liave you succeeded ?' 

' No ; and no one mil ; at leiist at present,' 
'la all lost then i' Is the M^ta eohome again on the 
pet?' 

* Onr Holy Churcfa is built upon a rock,' said the Mon- 
lore, ' but not npon the rock of Malta. Nothing ia lost; 

jitODelli is calm and eangoine, tbongli, rest ossnpod, there 
k no doubt abont what I tell yon. France has washed her 
mdfl or us.' 

' Where then are we to look for aid,' exclaimed liady 
fiL Jerome, ' against the assassins and athoists P Austria, 
the al(«rnative ally, is no longer near you ; and if she wera 
lat I sboold ever live to say it), even Austria is our 

' Poor Anstria!' said Ibe Monsignore with an nnctaons 
' Two things mode ber a nation ; sliti was Gierman 
d she was Catholic, and now she is neither.' 

* But you alarm me, my dear Lord, with your terrible 
I once thought that Spain would be onr pro- 
we hear bad news fi'oin Spain.' 

I * Yes,' said the Monsignore, ' I think it highly probable 
Mt, before a few years ha^e elapsed, every government in 
ropo will be atheistical except Franco. Vanity will 
s keep France the eldest son of the Chnrch, oven if 
•tMr a bonnet rouge. But if the Holy Father keep 
Inme, these strange ohnnges will only make tbe occupier 
|f the choir of St. Pel«r mure powerfal. Uis subjects wiU 



42 LOTH AIR, 



be in every clime and every country, and then they will be 
only his subjects. We shall get rid of the difficulty of the 
divided allegiance, Lady St. Jerome, which plagned our 
poor forefathers so much.' 

' If we keep R<5me,' said Lady St. Jerome. 

' And we shalL Let Christendom give ns her prayers 
for the next few years, and Pio Nono will become the most 
powerfiil monarch in Europe, and perhaps the only one.* 

'I hear a sound,' exclaimed Lady St. Jerome. 'Yes! 
the Cardinal has come. Let ns greet him.' 

But as they were approaching the saloon the Cardinal 
mot them, and waved them back. ' We will return,' he 
said, ' to our friends immediately, but I want to say one 
word to you both.' 

He made them sit down. 'I am a little restless,' he 
said, and stood before the fire. ' Something interesting 
has happened ; nothing to do with pul)lio afiairs (do not 
pitch your expectations too high), but still of importance, 
and certainly of great interest, at least to me. I have 
seen my child, ray ward.* 

' Indeed an event ! ' said Lady St. Jerome, evidently 
much interested. 

' And what is he like ? ' enquired the Monsignore. 

' All that one could wish. Extremely good-looking^ 
highly bred, and most ingenuous; a considerable intelli- 
gence and not untrained; but the most absolutely nn- 
afiected person I ever encountered.' 

' Ah ! if ho had been trained by your Eminence,' sighed 
Lady St. Jerome. * Is it too late P ' 

* 'Tis an immense position,' murmured Berwick. 

' What good might he not do ? ' said Lady St. Jerome ; 
' and if he be so ingenuous, it seems impossible that he can 
resist the truth.' 

' Your Ladyship is a sort of cousin of his,' said the Car- 
dinal musingly. 



* Tee ; bnt very remoto. I Aaro Bny he would not actnow- 
Udge tbe do. Bal we uro kiu ; we liuvo the same blood in 

'Ton should mnke his acqnnintatice,' said theCardinaL 
' I more than desire it. T ht-itr lio has been terribly in-'g- 

lected, bnraght np among Llie moat dreadful people, entii'ely 

tnEdela and ranaLiuH.' 

' He has been nearly two years at Oxford," said tbe Car- 
nal. 'That mny have mitigalcd the evil.' 
•Ai! bnt yon, riy Loi-d Cai-dinal, yon mast interfure. 
V that ynu at last know him, you must undertake the 
nt task ; yon must euvo liim.' 
'Wo mnat all pray, aa 1 pray every mom and every 

Bight,' said the Cardinal, ' for the convL-rsiua of England.' 
' Or tlic eonquHBt,' murmured Berwick. 



CllAl'TKR X. 

I th« Canlinal wua rugnioiDg his carriage on leaving 

, Giles' party, thtTe was, about the eutrance ef the 

the UHual gathering under sneh circnnistnncee ; souio 

1 linkbuys marvellonsly fantiliar with London life, 

i some mtduigbt loungers, who thus take their linrnble 

9 of the social excitement, and their happy chance of 

M>ming aMjuaintod with some of the notables of the 

mdrons world of which they form the base. This little 

ran^d at the instant into stricter order by the 

palioe to facilitate the passage of his Eminence, prevented 

Pllie progresa of a pnesenger, who exclaimed ia an audible, 

i'hiit not noisy, voice, aa if he were ejaculating to himself, 

HA baa les prStres ! ' 

I This exclamatian, unintelligible to the populace, wna 

mly by the only person who understood it. The 



tTX' 



44 LOTH A JR. 

Oardinal, astoniBhed at the nnasual sound (for, hitherto, 
he had always found the outer world of London civil, or at 
least indifferent), threw his penetrating glance at the pas- 
senger, and caught clearly the visage on which ihe lamp- 
light fully shone. It was a square, sinewy face, closely 
shaven, with the exception of a small hut thick moustache, 
hrown as the well-cropped hair, and hlending with the 
hazel eye; a calm, hut determined countenance; clearly 
not that of an Englishman, for he wore ear-rings. 

The carriage drove off, and the passenger, somewhat 
foi*cing his way through the clustering group, continued 
his course until he reached the cab-stand near the Marble 
Arch, when he engaged a vehicle and ordered to be driven 
to Leicester Square. That quarter of the town exhibits 
an animated scene towards the witching hour ; many lights 
and much population, illuminated coffee-houses, the stir of 
a large theatre, bands of music in the open air, and other 
sounds, most of them gay, and some festive. The stranger, 
whose compact figure was shrouded by a long fdr cape, 
had not the appearance of being influenced by the tempta- 
tion of amusement. As he stopped in the square and 
looked around him, the expression of his countenance was 
moody, perhaps even anxious. He seemed to be making 
observations on tlie locality, and, after a few minutes, 
crossed the open space and turned up into a small street 
which opened into the square. Li this street was a coffee* 
house of some pretension, connected indeed with an hotel, 
which had been formed out of two houses, and therefore 
possessed no inconsiderable accommodation. 

The coffee-room was capacious, and adorned in a manner 
which intimated it was not kept by an Englishman, or 
much used by Englishmen. The walls were painted in 
frescoed arabesques. There were many guests, principally 
seated at small tables of marble, and on benches and chaira 
covered with a coarse crimson velvet. Some were fdpping 



n 



tffee, Mnne were drinkiDg wine, othera wure smokiiig or 
flaying dominoes, or doing both ; while many were en- 
gaged in reading the foreign jounmls, which abounded. 

An ever-vigilant waiter was at the aide of tlie stranger 
the instant he entered, and wished t<) know his pleasure. 
The stranger was eiamining with hia keen eye every indi- 
Tidnal in the room, while thia qnestion was asked and 
repeated. 

'What would I MishP'Bftid the stranger, ha^n'ng con- 
nided his inspcotion, and as it were snmmoning back his 
lUeclion. * I would wish to see, and at once, one Mr. 
mi, who, I believe, livea here,' 

' Wliy, 'tis the m8Bt«p ! ' eJtclaimed the waiter. 

'Well, then, go and tell tlie master that I want him.' 

'But the master ia much engaged,' said the wait«r; 

' I dare aay ; bat yon will go and tell him that I particn- 
larly want to see him,' 

The waiter, though prepared to be impertinent to any 
one elae, felt that one was speaking to him who must bo 
!yed, and with a anbdned hot hesitating manner said, 
meeting to-night upstairs, whore the master is 
rctory, and it is diOicnlt to see him ; but if I could see 
1, what naine am 1 to give ? ' 
' Ton wiU go to him instantly,' said the stranger, ' and 
a will tell hira that he is wanted by Captain Bruges,' 
I The waiter was not long absent, and returning with 
p obseqniona bow, he invited the stranger to follow him 
V a private room, where he was alone only for a few 
>nds, for the door opened and he was joined by 
PeiTonL 

' Ah I my General,' exclaimed the master of the coffee- 
honae. and he kissed the stranger's hand. ' Ton received 
jf telegram ? ' 

re. Now what is your bnBinesB ? ' 



46 LOTH AIR. 



^ Thero is business, and great business ; if joa will do iti 
basiness for you.* 

' Well, I am a soldier, and soldiering is my trade, and I 
do not much care what I do in that way, provided it ia not 
against the good cause. But I must tell you at once, 
friend Perroni, I am not a man who will take a leap in the 
dark. I must form my own staff, and I must have my 
commissariat secure.' 

* My General, you will be master of your own terms. 
The standing committee of the Holy Alliance of Peoples 
are sitting upstairs at tliis moment. They were unanimooa 
in sending for you. See them ; judge for yourself; and, 
rest assured, you will be satisfied.' 

' I do not much like having to do with committees,' said 
the General. * However, let it be as you like : I will see 
them.' 

* I had better just announce your arrival,* said Perroni. 
* And will you not take something, my General, after your 
travel P You must be wearied.* 

' A glass of sugar and water. You know I am not easily 
tired. And, I agree with you, it is better to come to busi- 
ness at once : so prepare them.' 



CHAPTER XI. 



The Standing Committee of the Holy AUiance of Peoples 
all rose, although they were extreme Republicans, when the 
General entered. Such is the magical influence of a man 
of action over men of the pen and the tongue. Had it been, 
instead of a successful military leader, an orator that had 
inspired Europe, or a journalist who had established the 
rights of the human race, the Standing Committee would 
have only seen one of their own kidney^ who having been 



LOTH AIR. 



47 



j^TOBred with happier opportnnitics than themselves, luid 
■ Raped a harvest which, equally favoured, they might have 
gAmcred. 

'General.' said Felix Drolin, the president, who waa 
l ooked npon by the brotherhood aa a stateamau, for he had 
ecn, in his time, a lueraber of a Provisional Government, 
this seat is for yoa )' and he pointed to one on hia right 
'Ton are ever welcome; and I hope yon bring 
ood tidiaga, and good fortune.' 

' I am glad to he among my friends, and I may say,' 
wking aroand, ' my comradea. 1 hope 1 may bring yoa 
rtt«r fortune ihnu my tidings.' 

' But now they have left Rome,' said the President, 
every day we expect good news.' 

* Ay, ay ! he has left Rome, but he has not left Rome 
rith the door open. I hope it is not on each gossip you 
ive sent for me. You have something on hand. What 
it?' 

' Yon shall hear it from the fountain -head," said the 
residect, ' fresh from New York ;' and he pointed to ao 
dividual seated in the centre of the table. 
'Ah! Colonel Finncane,' ijoid the General, 'I have not 
itten James River. Ton did that well. What ia the 
ack now ? ' 

Whereupon a tali, lean man, with a decided brogue, but 
ing tlirough his nose, rose from bis seat and informed 
General that the Irish people were organised and ready 
rise ; ibat they had sent their deputies to New York ; 
they wanted were arms and ofBccrs ; that the American 
ithreo had agreed to supply thom with both, and amply ; 
1 that considerable Bubscriptions wore raising for 
iw purposes. What they now required was a com- 
nder-in-chief equal to the occAiiion, and in whom all 
old have conSdenee ; and therefore they had telegraphed 
(be Gonerol. 



n«^ 



_ w . XXJXjA.. 



* 1 6c«il< UK i«r frvmoi^ nrvr ibe witer would send ii£ 
fMtaOT i^f :riWib.'«ii£ ibp GtmBcmL, *if weooold onlj mmzage 
to ltts>£ xSrl . Koi I lauzik 1 knr>w men now in the Stetet 
frvom mtcia: 1 evufi Ixv! m cm^ faalT; but bow mboat the 
X L*<mai£ 5 Wtmi fprHeuot bftve we that they wOl 
if wir aa>i f ' 

*Thr bM.^ f&ii£ Tiir Fmadfsit. 'We hmve % EEead. 
CVntst* Vcvw C^t^Mtr IWscziivid. wi>o will give yon the moat 
fwvv.T «ai vbr ia;K3 nx:uieEitar intiellieeDoe on that bead.* 

^ TS« wbi^^ cvuxinr V :rri3ii9ied,'* sud the Head-Centre; 
* wt" oo9ila |«ct $A\<JkO TZMm in the field at any time in a 
f.vrtui^ht. T^<' lac^i^rmcsii i» not siectarian ; it pervades all 
eUsHMM asii all <'c^^^aj^. AH that we want are officers and 

* Hem * * «".^ liii^ G«3firaL * Aud as to your other snp- 
p!i^ ? ArT «^h<sc>e of rvtniinissanat r ' 

^TheT^ w;ll S^ no bic^ cf meuis,* vpplied the Head- 
Cer«i«v. •Tbc^Tifr is nc^ co«cTitTT where eo much money 
)» himrd^i a$ in Ireland. Bat^ depend npon it, so fiair as 
the oiVQiroijs^sanai i$ concerned, the movement will be self- 
ftupjv^rtiv.c," 

• NWIU ^-^ s^V^-^ «^-' «"«^ ^^ General ; * I am «orry it is 
nn Irish aflAir, thoncK to be sure, what else oould it he P 
I w« tiot f^^^ui of Irish afikirs : whatever may be said, and 
bo^v\*rr plausible things may look, in an Irish business 
there ij» alt^iiys a priest al the bottom of it. 1 hate priests. 
IK* the hx'A I was stopped on my way here by a Cardinal 
pettini? into his carriage. 1 thought I had burnt all those 
vehicles when I was at Rome with Garibaldi iu '48. A 
Cardinal in his carriage ! I had no idea you permitted that 
sort of cattle in London.' 

' Ix^ntlon is a roost for every bird,' said Felix Drolin, 
*Very few of the priests fifcvour this movement,' said 

Desmond. • m .u 

•Then you have a great power against you, said ttie 

Oeoeral, * in addition to Englwid.' 



LOTH AIR. 4y 

* The; ftra not ozactly agunst ; the bnllc of iliem ore too 
nationBJ for tbat ; but Rome does cot mnctioa : jou iinder- 

' I oDdHrslniiil enough,' said the General, ' to see that we 
most not out with precipit&tion. An liixh buaineas la a 
thing to be turned over several times.' 

■ But yet," Eoid a Pole, ' what hoi>e for hamanity pxcept 
from tbe rising of an oppressed nationality. We have 
offered ourselves on the altar, and in vain ! Greece ia too 
small, and Ronmania, thoagh both of them arc ready ti> 
do anything; but they would be the mere tools of Russia 
Ireland alone remains, and she is at onr feet.' 

' Tbe peoples will never succeed till they have a fleet,' 
said a German. ' Then you could land as niany rifles as 
yoa like, or anything else. To have a fleet we rat>a against 
Denmark in my country, but wa have been betrayed. 
Nevertheless, Germany will yet be united, and she can only 
as a R«pubhc. Then slio will be the mistress of 

That is tbe misfiion of Ita,1j,' said Perroui. 'Italy, 

tbe traditions of Genoa, Venice, Pisa j Italy is plainly 

icated OS tbe fatore mistress of the Bess,' 

1 beg your pardon,' said tbe German ; ' the future mis. 

of the seas is Uie land of the Viking. It is tbe forests 

of the Baltic that will build the fleut of the futnre. You 

liave no timber in Italy.' 

' Timber ia no longer wanted,' said Perroni. ' Nor do I 
know of what will be funned the fleets of tbe futnro. But 
ibe sovereignty of the seas depends upon seamen, and tha 
oftntical genius of the Italians^ — ' 

' ComnuleB,' said the General, ' wo have discnased to- 
night a great subject. For my part I have traveUed rather 
briskly as yon wished it. I should Uke to sleep on thid 



"Tib most reasonable,' said the President. 



'Our r 



50 LOTH AIR. 



freshinent at oounoil ia very spare,* he oontinued, and he 
pointed to a vase of water and some glasses ranged roani 
it in the middle of the tahle ; ' bat we always drink one 
toast, (}oneral, before we separate. It is to one whom yon 
love, and whom jon have served welL Fill glasses, breth- 
ren, and now " To Mabt-Akni." ' 

If thej had been inspired by the grwpe nothing oonld be 
more animated and even excited than all their oonntenanoes 
suddenly became. The cheer might have been heard in 
the coffee-room, as they expressed, in the phrases of many 
languages, the never-failing and never-flagging enthnaiaaiD 
invoked by the toast of their mistress. 



CHAPTER Xn. 



' Did you read that paragraph, mamma P ' enquired Lady 
Corisande of the Duchess, in a tone of some seriousness. 

• I did.' 

* And what did you think of it P * 
' It filled me with so much amazement that I have hardly 

begun to think.* 

' And Bertram never gave a hint of such things ! * 

' Let us believe they are quite untrue.' 

' I hope Bertram is in no danger,' said his sister. 

' Heaven forbid ! ' exclaimed the mother, with unaffected 
alarm. 

' I know not how it is,' said Lady Corisande, ' but I 
frequently feel that some great woe is hanging over our 
country.' 

' You must dismiss such thoughts, my child ; they are 
&nciful.' 

' But it will come, and when least expected ; frequently 
in church, but abo in the sunshine ; and when I am riding 




n once everything seenied gap Bat now I often 

ink of atrile, and straggle, and war ; civil war : the Btir 
of oar cavalcade aeema like the tramp of cavalry.' 

' Ton indulge your imagination too mach, dear Corisando, 
When j-ou return to London, and enter the world, tbwe 
anxiooa thoughts will &y.' 

' Is it imagination P I should rather have doabled my 
being of an iioaginative nature. It aeenis to me that I am 
rather liberal. Bat I cannot help hearing things, and 
reading thinga, and observing things, and they till me with 
disqnietode. All seems doubt »nd change, when it would 
appear that we require both faith and firmneas.' 

' The Duke is not alarmed about aSkirs,' said his wife. 

' And if all did their duty like papa, there might be less, 
or no cause,' soJd Corisande, ' to be alarmed. But when 
1 hear of yonng nobles, the natural leaders of the land, 
going over to the Roman Catholic Church, I confess I losa 

(irt aiid patience. It seems so unpatriotio, so efleminate.' 
'It may not be true,' said the Duchess, 
'it may not be true of him, but it is tmo of others,' said 
Ay Corisande. 'And why should be esciipe P He is 
tj young, rather fiHendless, aud surrounded by wily per- 
Ml I am disappointed about Berti-am too. He ought 
have prevented this, if it be trno. Bertram Beemed to 
me to have such eicellent principles, and so completely to 
feel that he was bom to maintain the gi'eat country which 
his ancestors had creatod, that I indulged in dreams, I 
Euppose yon are right, mamma ; I suppose 1 am imagina- 
tive without knowing it ; but I have always thought and 
hoped, that when the troubles came the country might, 
perhaps, rally round Bertram.' 

■ I wiah to see Bertram in Parliament,' said the Uuchess. 
' Thftt will be the best thing for hijn. The Duke has tome 



H conversation bad been occasioned by a paragraph \xk 



fp^ 



S2 LOTH AIR, 



the 'MomiDg Post,' circulating a nunoor that a young 
noble, obviooslj Loihair, on the impending completion of 
his minority, was about to enter the Roman Chorclu The 
Duchess and her daughter were sitting in a chamber of 
their northern castle, and speculating on their return to 
London, which was to take place after the Easter whidi 
had just arrived. It was an important social season for 
Corisande, for she was to be formally introduced into the 
great world, and to be presented at Court. 

In the meanwhile, was there any truth in the report 
about Lothair P 

Afler their meeting at their lawyer's, a certain intimacy 
had occurred between the Cardinal and his ward. They 
met again immediately and frequently, and their mutual 
feelings were cordial. The manners of his Eminence were 
defined and affectionate; his conversational powers were 
distinguished ; there was not a subject on which his mind 
did not teem with interesting suggestions ; his easy know- 
ledge seemed always ready and always full ; and whether it 
were art, or letters, or manners, or even political afiEairs, 
Lothair seemed to listen to one of the wisest, most en- 
lightened, and most ag^reeable of men. There was only one 
subject on which his Eminence seemed scrupulous never to 
touch, and that was religion ; or so indirectly, that it was 
only when alone that Lothair frequently found himself 
musing over the happy influence on the arts, and morals, 
and happiness of mankind, of the Church. 

In due time, not too soon, but when he was attuned to 
the initiation, the Cardinal presented Lothair to Lady St. 
Jerome. The impassioned eloquence of that lady germinated 
the seed which the Cardinal had seemed so carelessly to 
scatter. She was a woman to inspire crusaders. Not that 
she ever condescended to vindicate her own particular 
faith, or spoke as if she were conscious that Lothair did not 
possess it. Assuming that religion was true, for otherwise 




mau would be in & more degraded position tbua tlia beute 
of the field, wliich are not awaro of their own wretched- 

neas, then religion ahonld be the principal occnpation of 
man, to which all other pursnita ehonld be eubservient. 
The docnn of eternity, and the fortnnes of hfe, cannot be 
placed in contpetition. Onr daje shoald be pnre, and holj, 
Red heroic, fall of noble thoughts and Bolemn eacriiice. 
Providence, in its wisdom, had decreed that the world 
ahonld be divided between the faithfal and atheists ; the 
latter even seemed (n predominate. There was no doubt 
that, if they prevailed, all that elevated man woald become 
extinct. It wafl a great trial ; but happy waa the man who 
WBB privileged even to endure the awful tost. It might 
develope the highest qnalllics and the most snblime con- 
duct. If he were eqaal to tbo occasion, and oonld control 
and even snbdtie these sons of Oorah, he would rank with 
Michael the Archangel. 
' This was the text on which frequent discourses were de- 

Kred to Lothair, and to which he listened at first with 
Bf, and soon with enraptured attention. The priestess 
rorthy of the shrine. Few persona were ever gifted 
pth more natural eloquence ; a commniid of language, 

koioe without being pedantic ; beautiful hands that flnt^ 

rod with trroeiatible grace ; flashing eyes and a voice of 
melody. 

tiotfaau began to oxamiiie himself, and to ascertain 
whether he possessed the necessary qualities, and was 
ntpable of eiiblime conduct. His natural modesty and his 
strong religions feeling stru^led together. He feared ha 
waa not an archangel, and yet he longed to struggle with 
the powers of darkness. 

One day he ventured to express to Miss Arandel a 
•omewbAt hopeful view of the futore, hut Miss Arundel 



wk hop head. 

*I do not agree wiU< my aunt, at leaat oa regan 



i this 



54 LOTH AIR. 

nraDtiy,' said Minn Arandol ; * I tliink onr sins are fan 
groat. We left His Charch. and God is now leaving ua,' 

Lotbfur looked grove, bal was si lent. 

Weeks bad passed nicue liia introducUon to the family 
of Lord St. Jerome, and it was remarkable bow lar^ a 
|K3rtion of bis subsequent time bad passed nndor timt rooC 
At first tliare were few persons in town, and fL-ally of tbeae 
Ijotbair knew nouo ; and then ihe bouse in St. James's 
Sqnare was not oa\y an interesting, bnt it was sji agree- 
able bonse. All Lady St. Jerome's family connectionR 
were ptirsons of moch fashion, so tbere was more varielj 
nod enteruiinnient tban aonietimos are to be foand onder a 
Iloman Catbotic roof. Lady St. Jerome was at home every 
evening before Easter. Few dames can venture sacceas- 
Fally on bo decided a step ; but her saloons were always 
attended, and by ' nice people.' Occasionally tbe Cardinal 
stepped in, and, to a certain degree, tbe saloon was the 
rendecvDuB of tbe Catbollc party ; but it was also generally 
social and diRttngnisbcd. Many bright danics and dnmsela, 
and many influential men, were tbere, wbo little deemed 
that deep and daring tbon^bts were there masked by mftDj 
a gracious countenance. The social atmosphere infinitely 
pleased Lotliair. The mixture of solemn dntyaod graoefol 
diversion, high purposes and cbamiiti^ manners, seemed to 
realise some youthful dreams of elegant existence. All 
too was eidinnced by tbe historic character of tbe roof and 
by tbe recoUocttoo that their conunon ancestors, as Clare 
Arundel more than once intimated to him, had created 
England. Having bad so many pleasant dinners in St 
James's Square, and spent there so many evening hours, it 
was not wonderful that Lothair bod accepted an invitation 
from Lord St. Jerome to pass Kaster at bis oonutry soa^t. 



] 



CHAPTER Xin. 

:, die neat of the St. Jeromes, -was the &nest Bpecituen 
of tfae old Euglish residence estaot. It vas the perfeotion 
uf the style, wliich had gradually arisen after the wars of 
the Ro»es had nlike destroyed all the castlen and the par- 
pose of those stem erections. People eaid Yauxe looked 
like a college : the truth is, colleges looked like Yauxe, for 
irhen those fair and civil buildings rose, the wise and 
liberal Bpirits who endowed them, intended that tkey 
should resemble as maoh as poBsible the residence of a great 

There were two quadrangles at Vanie of grey stone ; 
the outer one of larger dimeosions acd much covered with 
ify i the inner one not so extenaivo but more ornate, with 
a lofty tower, a h&U, and a chapel. The Loose was full of 
galleries, and they were full of portraits. Indeed there 
was scarcely a chamber in this vast edifice of which the 
wnlla were not breathing with Enghah liistory in this 
interesting form. Sometimes more ideal art asserted a 
triumphant claim t transeendental Holy Fiiniilies, Bemphia 
•aiDts, and gorgeons scenes by Tintoret and Paul of Yerona. 

The fiimitare of the house seemed never to have been 
changed. It was very old, somewhat scanty, hut very rich : 
tapestry and velvet hangings, mai-vellous cabinets, and 
crystal girandoles. Here and there a group of ancient 
plate ; ewers and flagons and tall saltcellars a foot high 
and ncKly chiselled ; sometimes a state bed shadowed with 
a huge pomp of stiff brocade and borne by silver poles. 

Yauie stood in a large park studded with stiitcly trees ; 
here and there an avenne of Spanish chesnat!< or a grore 
of oaks; sometimea a gortiy dell and sometimfs a great 
qtread of antlered fern, taller than the tallest man. 



56 LOTHAIR. 



It w&A only twenty miles from town, and Lord St. 
Jerome drove Lothair down ; the last ten miles throngli a 
pretty land, which, at the right season, would have been 
bright with orchards, oak woods, and hop gardens. Lord 
St. Jerome loved horses and was an eminent whip. He 
had driven fonr-in-hand when a boy, and he went on driv- 
ing fonr-in-hand ; not because it was the feyihion, but be- 
cause he loved it. Towards the close of Lent, Lady Si 
Jerome and Clare Arundel had been at a convent in re- 
treat, but they always passed Holy Week at home, and 
they were to welcome Lord St. Jerome again at Yauxe. 

The day was bright, the mode of movement exhilarating, 
all the anticipated incidents delightful, and Lothair felt the 
happiness of health and youth. 

'There is Yauxe,' said Lord St. Jerome, in a tone of 
proud humility, as a turn in the road first displayed the 
stately pile. 

' How beautiful ! ' said Lothair ; ' ah ! our ancestors 
understood the country.' 

' I used to think when I was a boy,' said Lord St. 
Jerome, ' that I lived in the prettiest village in the world, 
but these railroads have so changed everything, that Yauxe 
seems to me now only a second town house.' 

The ladies were in a garden, where they were consulting 
with the gardener and Father Coleman about the shape of 
some new beds, for the critical hour of filling them was 
approaching. The gardener, like all head-gardeners, was 
opiniated. Living always at Yauxe, he had come to be- 
lieve that the gardens belonged to him, and that the &mily 
were only occasional visitors ; and he treated them accord- 
ingly. The lively and impetuous Lady St. Jerome had a 
thousand bright fiuicies, but her morose attendant rarely 
indulged them. She used to deplore his tyranny with 
piteous playfulness. ' I suppose,' she would say, ' it is 
useless to resist, for I observe 'tis the same everywhere. 



idy Eloeliimpton aayi she i 



Hardeof 



It i 



■ liAB her way with bor 



3 speaking to Lord 8t. Jerome, f 
i is afraid 



tkoDgh he is afraid of nothing el§e, I a 
of Hawldiis.' 

The only way that Lady St, Jerome coald manage 
Hawkins was throagh Father Coleman. Father Coleman, 
who knew everything', knew a great deal about gardens ; 
from the dnys of Le Notre to those of the fine gentlemen 
who now travel about, and when disengaged deign to give 
□s advice. 

Father Coleman had only just entered middJe-age, was 
imperturbable and mild in his manner. He passed his life 
very much at Vauie, and imparted a great deal of know- 
ledge to Mr. Hawkins, withoat apparently being conscious 
of so doing. At the bottom of hia mind, Mr. Hawkins felt 
assured that he had gained several dietinguished prizes, 
mainly tbrongh the hints and guidance of Father Coleman ; 
aud thus, though on the surface a little Burly, he was ruled 
by Father Coleman, under the combined infiuenco of self- 
interest and superior knowledge. 

' You find ua in a garden withont flowers,' said Lady St. 
Jerome ; ' but the sTut, I think, alway loves these golden 

These are for yon, dear nncle,* said Clare Anitidel, aa 
gave bim a rich olnster of violeta. ' Just dow the woods 
more IragTBnt than the gardcna, and these are the pro- 
of oar morning walk. 1 could have brought yon Borao 
but I do not like to mil violets with anything.' 
' They say primroses make a capital salad," said Lord St. 
Jerome. 

'Unrbarion ! ' exclaimed Lady St, Jerome. ' I see you 
want Innoheon ; it must be ready ; ' and abe took Lotbair'a 
ftrm. ' I will slinw you a portrait of one of your ancestors,' 
mairied an Amndel.' 



^fece 



CHAPTER SIV. 

' Now, yon know," siaid Lady St. Jerome to Lothair in « 
hiuhed Toice, as tbey sato together in the evening, ' jon 
are to be qnite Eree here; to do exactly what you like, &iid 
we ahaJI follow onr waj^. If yon like to have a clergymmi 
of your own Chnrch visit you while you are with na, pray 
8By so without the slightest ecmple. We have an exe«Uent 
gentleman in this parish ; he ofleu dines here ; and I am 
Hure he would bo most happy to attend yoo. I know that 
Holy Week is not wholly disregarded by aome of tha 
Anglicans.' 

' It is the anniversary of the greatost event of time,' 
■aid Lothair; 'and I should be sorry if any of my Chnrcb 
did not entirely regard it, though they may show Uiat 
regard in a way difi'erent from yonr own.' 

' Yea, yes," murmured Lady St. Jerome ; ' there should 
be no difference between our Churches, if tilings were only 
properly understood. I would accept all who really bow 
to the name of Chriat ; they will come to the Chnrch at 
jASt i they mast. It ia the Athoiate alone, I fear, who are 
now carrying everything before them, and against whom 
there ia no rampart, except the rock of St. Peter.' 

Miss Amndel crosaed the room, whispered something to 
her aunt, and touched her forehead with her lips, and then 
lefl the apartment. 

' We must soon separate, I fear,' eaid Lady St. Jerome ; 
' we have an office to-night of greiit moment j the Tenebr* 
oommence to-night. You have, I thiuk, nothing like it, 
hut you have services throughout this week.' 

'I am sorry to suy I have not alt^odod them,' said 
Lothair. ' I did at Oiford ; but I don't know how it ia, 
but in London there seems no religion. And yet, aa yon 



LOTH A iR. 59 

sometimes srj, religion is the great bn&ineas of life ; 1 
eometimes begin to think the only buainesa." 

' Yes, yea," said Lady St. Jerome, witl mnch interest, ' if 
yon believe tbat yon are safe. I wish yon had a clergyman 
near yon nhile yon arc here. See Mr, Clanghton if you 
like ; 1 wonld ; and if yon do not, there is Father Coleman. 
I cannot convey to yon how eatiafaetory conversation is 
with him on religions matters. Be is the hohest of men, 
and yet he is a man of the world : he will not iiivit« yon 
into any controversies. He will speak with yon only on 
points on which we agree, Ton know there are many 
points on which we agree ? ' 

' Happily,' said Ijothair. 'And now about the ofBce to- 
night : toll me ahont these Tenebne. la there anything' 
in the Tenebrto that should prevent my being present ? ' 

'No reason whatever; not a dogma which you do not 
believe ; not a ceremony of which yon cannot approve. 
There are [malms, at the end of each of which a light an 
the altar is eitingnished. There is the Song of Moses, the 
Canticle of Zachary, the Miaerere, whieh is the Slst 
Psalm yon read and chant regularly in yonr church, the 
Lord's Prayer in ailcrco; and then all ia daikncss and 
distreas : what the Church was when our Lord suffered, 
what the whole world is now except Hia Church.' 

' If you will permit mo,' said Lothair, ' 1 will accompany 
yon to the Tenebraa.' 

Although the chapel at Vauxe was, of conrse, a private 
chapel, it was open ta the surrounding public, who eagerly 
availed themselves of a permission alike politic and gracious. 

Nor was that remarkable. Manifold art had combined 
to create this exquisite temple, and to gnido all its minis- 
trations. But tO'Oight it was not the nidiant altar and the 
Rplendoor of stately priests, the processions and ths 
inoensc, the divine choir and the celestial harmonies ro. 
sonndini^ and lingering in arched roofs, that attractcil 



6o LOTH AIR, 



many a neighbour. The altar was desolate, the ohoir was 
dumb ; and while the services proceeded in hashed tones 
of snbdned sorrow, and sometimes even of sappressed 
angnish, gradnallj, with each psalm and canticle, a light 
of the altar was eztingoished, till at length the Miserere 
was muttered, and all became darkness. A sound as of a 
distant and rising wind was heard, and a crash, as it were 
the fall of trees in a storm. The earth is covered with 
darkness, and the vail of the temple is rent. But juBt at 
this moment of extreme woe, when all human voices are 
silent, and when it is forbidden even to breathe 'Amen; ' 
when everything is symbolical of the confusion and despair 
of the Church at the loss of her expiring Lord, a priest 
brings forth a concealed light of silvery flame firom a 
comer of the altar. This is the light of the world, and 
announces the resurrection, and then all rise up and depart 
in silence. 

As Lothair rose. Miss Arundel passed him with stream- 
ing eyes. 

' There is nothing in this holy office,' said Father Cole- 
man to Lothair, * to which every real Christian might not 
give his assent.' 

' Nothing,' said Lothair, with great decision. 



CHAPTER XV. 



There were TenebrsQ on the following days. Maundy 
Thursday and Oood Friday ; and Lothair was present on 
both occasions. 

' There is also a great office on Friday,' said Father 
Coleman to Lothair, ' which perhaps you would not like to 
attend, the mass of the Pro-saDctified. Wo bring back the 
Blessed Sacrament to the desolate altar, and unveil the 



LOTH AIR. 6 1 

It ii one of oqp higbest ooreDLonJes, tbe &donitiiui 
the Croaa, whioh the FroteB^nts pcrKist in calling 
idolatry, tliongli I presiime tbey will give na leave to know 
tb« metuiing of oar own words and actions, and hope tliej 
^^rill believe ns when we tell tbcm thut our ^niLflexionE 
^Hkd kissing of the Cross are no more Ihaji exterior eiprea- 
^Hpons of that love which we bear in our hoarts to Jesna 
^ftnicLEod ; and that the words adoration and adore, u 
applied to the Croaa, only signiij that respect and venera- 
tion due to things immediately relating to God and Hia 

' I see no idolatry in it,' said Lotbair, musingly. 

' No impartial person could,' rejoined Father Coleman ■ 
'bnt anfortonately all theao prejudices were imbibed when 
the world was not eo well-informed as at present. A good 
deal of misohief has been done, too, by the Protestant ver- 
sions of the Holy Scriptures; made in a borry, and by 

En imperfectly acquainted with the Eastern tongues, and 
te ignonuit of Eastern manners. All the accamnlatcd 
»rch and investigBtion of modern times have only illua- 
liiBted and justified the offices of the Church.' 
* That is very interesting,' said Lothiur. 
' Now, ibia question of idolatrj-,' said Father Coleman, 
' that is a tbi'tile subject of mi soon cep don. The house of 
lanicl waa raised up to destroy idolatry, because idolatry 
then meant dark images of Moioch opening their arms by 
muchinory, and flinging the beant«ous firKtbom of the land 
into tlicir huge forms, which were furnaces of fire; or 
Asht«rol)i. throned in moonlit groves, and surrounded by 
oi^es of ineffable demoralisatiou. It required the declared 
trill of God to redeem man irom such fatal im'quity, which 
would have sapped the human race. But to cuufonnd 
I mch deeds with the commemoration of God's sainte, who 
« only pictured because their lives are perpetual inoen- 
a to purity and holiness, and to declare that the Queeu 



62 LOTH AIR. 

of HeftTCD and tho Motber of God should be to lintnaJi 
feeling only &b a sister of charity or a gleaner in the Gelds. 
is to abnse reason and to outrage the heart.' 

'We lire in dark times,' e&id Lothoir, with aa air of 
distreRS. 

* Not darker than before the df^lnge,' exclaimed Father 
Coleman; *not darker than before the Nativity; not 
darker even than when the aaiota became martyra. Thero 
is a PharOH in the world, and its light will noi'er ho ex- 
tinguished, homevor black the clouds and wild the waves. 
Man is on bis trial now, not the Church ; but in tho service 
of the Church his highest energies may be developed, and 
hia noblest qnahties proved.' 

Lothair seemed plunged in thought, and Father Uolenutn 
glided away as Lady St. Jerome entered the gallery, 
shawled and bonneted, accompojiied by another priest, 
Mod sign ore Gates by. 

Catesby wae a youthful member of an ancient English 
house, which for many generations had without a mormor, 
rather in a Rpirit of Criiunph, made every worldly sacrifioe 
for the Church and Court of Rome. For that cause ihej 
had forfeited their lives, broad estates, and all the hononn 
of a lofty station in their own land. Reginald Catesby 
with considerable abilities, trained with consummate skill, 
inherited their determined will, and the traditionary beauty 
of their form and countenance. His manners were win> 
ning, and he was as well informed in the ways of the world 
B8 he was in the works of the great casuists. 

' My Lord has ordered the clmr-a-bauc, and is going to 
drive us all to Chart, where we will lunch,' said Lady St. 
Jerome ; ' 'tis a curious place, and was planted only seventy 
yearB ago by my Lord's grandfather, entirely with spruce 
firs, hut with so much care and skill, giving each plant and 
tree ample distance, that they have risen to the noblest 
proportions, with all their green branches far-spreading on 
the ground like huge fiias.' 



t was only b drire oT throe or four miles entirely in the 
This was a district that hod been added to the 
Micient eticlosore ; a, striking scene. It waa a forest of 
fii«, but quite nnlike sach ua might he met with in the 
north of Europe or of Americft, Every tree was perfect, 
hnge and complete, and faU of massy grace. Notliing 
else was permitted to grow there except juniper, of which 
there were aboanding and wondrous groups, green and 
spiral ; the whole contrasting with the tall brown fern of 
wbicb there were qoautities about cut for the deer. 

The turf was dry and mossy, and the air pleasant, Tt 
WBfl a balmy day. They sate down by the great trees, the 
earraats opened the luncheon baskets, which were a 
present from Balmoral, Lady St. Jerome was seldom 
seen to greater adrantAge than distributing her viands 
imder such circomatances. Never was such gay and grace- 
fiil hospitality. Lothair was quite fascinated as she play- 
(nlly thrust a paper of lobster-sandwiches into hie hand, 
and enjoined Monsignore Catesby to fill his tumbler with 
Chablis. 

'I wish Father Coleman were here,' said Lothair to 
Uiss AnmdeL 

* Why P ' said Miss Arundel. 

' Becanse we were in the midat of a very interesting 
conversation on idolatry and on worsliip in groves, when 
Lsdy St. Jerome summoned us to our drive. This seems 
a (^rovo where one might worship.' 

* Father Coleman ought to be at Rome,' eaJd Miss 
imadcl, 'He waa to have passed Holy Week there. 1 
know not why he changed his plmts.' 

' Are yon angry with him for it ? ' 

* No, not angry, bat surprised ; surprised that anyone 
fidgbt be at Roms, and yet be absent &om it.' 

~ 'ToaUkeSome?' 

,^1 have never been there. U is the wish of my life.' 



64 LOTH AIR. 



*llaj I aaj to jon what jou said to me just now. 
whyP' 

* Natnrallj, because I would wish to witness the cere- 
monies of the Ohorch in their most perfect form.' 

' But they are fulfilled in this country, I have heard, 
with much splendour and precision.' 

Miss Arundel shook her head. 

' Oh ! no,' she said ; ' in this country we are only jnst 
emerging from the catacombs. If the ceremonies of the 
Church were adequately fulfilled in England, we should 
hear very little of English infidelity.' 

'That is saying a great deal,' observed Lothair, en- 
quiringly. 

' Had I that command of wealth of which we hear eo 
much in the present day, and with which the possessors 
seem to know so little what to do, I would purchase some 
of those squalid streets in Westminster, which are the 
shame of the metropolis, and clear a great space and build 
a real cathedral, where the worship of heaven should be 
perpetually conducted in the full spirit of the ordinances 
of the Church. I believe, were this done, even this country 
might be saved.' 



CHAPTER XYI. 



LoTUAiB began to meditate on two great ideas : the recon- 
ciliation of Christendom and the influence of architecture 
on religion. If the differences between the Roman and 
Anglican Churches, and between the Papacy and Protes- 
tantism, generally arose, as Father Coleman assured him^ 
and seemed to prove, in mere misconception, reconciliation, 
though difficult, did not seem impossible, and appeared to 
be one of the most efficient modes of defeating the Atheista. 
It was a result which of course mainly depended on the 



iiity of Beaaon ; but the power of the ima^' nation 
might also be enliBted in the good cause tbrongh tlie iii- 
BaeDce of the fiae arts, of which the great Hussion ia to 
excite, and at the eame time derate, the feeling's of 
the human family. Lotbair foand himself frequently in a 
reverie over Miss Arundel's ideal fane ; and feeling that 
lie bod the powar of buying up a district in forlorn West- 
minster, bdJ raising there a temple to the living God, 
which might tnSuence the futare welfare of millions, and 
even effect the salvation of his country, he began io ask 
hitnseU^ whether he conld inonr the reaponHibilitj of 
shrinking from the fulfilment of this great doty. 

Lothair conld not have a better adviser on the subject of 
the influence of architecture on religion than Monaignore 
Ctttesby. Monaignore Catesby had been a pupil of Pugin i 
his knowledge of ecclesiastical architecture waa only 
eqmUled by bis exquisite taate. To bear him expound the 
mysteries of symbolical art, and ex])atiate «n the hidden 
revehitioas of its beauteous forms, reached even to ecstasy. 
Lothair hung upon his accents like a neophyte. Con- 
ferences with Father Coleman on those points of faith on 
which they did not dtfier, followed up by desultory remarks 
on those points of faith on which they ought not to differ ( 
^tica] discnesions with Monsignore Cateebyon cathedrals, 
r forma, their purposes, and the instances in several 
intriea in which those forms were most perfect and those 
!S best secured, occupied a good deal of time ; and 
it these engaging pursnite were secondary in real emotion 
^his fVeqnent conversations with Miss Arundel, in whose 
iety every day he took a strange anil deeper interest. 
She did not eitend to him that ready sympathy which 
waa Bapplied by the two priests. On the contrary, when 
he waa apt to indulge in those speculationi which they 
silways encouraged, and rewariled by adroit applause, she 
Wits iift*!a silent, throwiug on him only the scrutiny ot 



66 LOTHAIR. 



tiKMe violet eyes, whose glance was ratiier &scmatisg than 
apt to captivate. And yet he was irresistibly drawn to 
her, and once recalling the portrait in the gallery, he Ten- 
tared to murmnr that they were kinsfolk. 

' Oh ! I have no kin, no country,' said Miss Anindel. 
' These are not times for Idn and country. I have gives 
up all these things for my Master ! ' 

' But are our times so trying as Uiat P ' enquired Lothair. 

' They are times for new crusades,' said Miss Arundel, 
with energy, ' though it may be of a different character 
from the old. If I were a man I would draw my sword 
for Christ. There are as great deeds to be done as the 
siege of Ascalon, or even as the fireeing of the Holy 
Sepulchre.' 

In the midst of a profound discussion with Father Cole- 
man on Mariolatry, Lothair, wrapt in reverie, suddenly 
introduced the subject of Miss Arundel. ' I wonder what 
will be her lot,' he exclaimed. 

'It seems to me to be settled,' said Father ColemaD. 
' She will be the bride of the Church.' 

' Indeed ! ' and he started, and even changed colour. 

' She deems it her vocation,' said Father Coleman. 

* And yet, with such gifbs, to be immured in a convent,' 
said Lothair. 

'That would not necessarily follow,' replied Father Cole- 
man. ' Miss A rundel may occupy a position in which ahe 
may exercise much influence for the great cause which 
absorbs her being.' 

'There is a divine energy about her,' said Lothair, 
almost speaking to himself. ' It could not have been given 
for little ends.' 

' If Miss Arundel could meet with a spirit as exalted and 
as energetic as her own,' said Father Coleman, ' her &te 
might be different. She has no thoughts which are noi 
groat, and no purposes which are not sublime. But lor 



LOTHAIR. 67 

the compacion of ber life ehe would reqnire no lew tliiui a 

Godfrey de Bonillon." 

Lolb^r began to 6iid the time paaa very rapidly at 

Vause. Easter week had nearly vanished ; Vaoxo had been 

gay during the last few days, Every day some visitors 

came down &om London ; sotnetimea they returned in the 

evening ; sometimes they passed the night at Vauxe and 

retomed to town in tlie morning with Uifge bonqneta 

[jotbair felt it was time for him to depart, and he broke hia 

intention to Lady St, Jerome ; but Lady St. Jerome wonld 

not hpnr of it. So he muttered something aboatbnsineas. 

|l 'Exactly,' ahe said; 'everybody has bnsiness, and I 

■^bre sny yon have a great deal. But Vaoxe is precisely tlie 

^^Hjue for persons who have bnsiness. Yoa go np to town 

^^K 6n early train, and then yon retnni in time for dinner, 

^^fild bring ns all the news from the Clnbs.' 

Lothair was beginning to say something, but Lady St. 
Jerome, who, when necessary, had the rare art of not 
; without, offending the speaker, told him that they 
intend thcraselvca to return ta town for a week or 
1^ and that she knew Lord St. Jerome would be greatly 
loyed if Lothair did not remain. 
IXnthair remained ; and ho went np to town one or two 
ings to transnct bneineBa ; that is to say, to see a cele- 
nted architoct, and to order plans for a cathedral, in 
kich all the purposes of those sttblime and eiqniBite 
nctnres were to be rcalificd. The drawings would lake 
mtdderable time to prepare, and these must be deeply 
uidered. So Lothair became quite do mici hated s,t 
he went np to town in the morning and returned, 
re, to his home; everybody delighted to welcoino 
. and yet lie seemed not expected. His rooms were 
icr his name ; and the household treated bim ae 
D of the family. 



m^^^- 



68 LOTH AIR. 



CHAPTER XVIL 

A FEW days before Lothair*s visit was to terminata, tiie 
Cardinal and Monsignore Berwick arrived at Yanxe. His 
Eminence was received with mnch ceremony; the mar- 
shalled honsehold, rang^ in lines, fell on their knees at his 
approach, and Lady St. Jerome, Miss Amndel, and some 
other ladies scarcely less choice and fair, with the lowest 
obeisance, touched with their honoured lips his princely 
hand. 

The Monsignore had made another visit to Paris on his 
intended return to Rome, but in consequence of some 
secret intelligence which he had acquired in the French 
capital, had thought fit to return to England to consult 
with the Cardinal There seemed to be no doubt that the 
Revolutionary party in Italy, assured by the withdrawal of 
the French troops from Rome, were again stirring. There 
seemed also little doubt that London was the centre of 
preparation, though the project and the projectors were 
involved in much mystery. ' They want money,' said the 
Monsignore ; ' that we know, and that is now our best 
chance. The Aspromonte expedition drained their private 
resources ; and as for ftirther aid, that is out of the ques^ 
tion ; the galantuomo is bankrupt. But the Atheists are 
desperate, and we must prepare for events.' 

On the morning after their arrival, the Cardinal invited 
Lothair to a stroll in the park. * There is the feeling of 
spring this morning,' said his Eminence, ' though scarcely 
yet its vision.' It was truly a day of balm, and sweetness, 
and quickening life ; a delicate mist hung about the huge 
trees and the masses of more distant woods, and seemed to 
clothe them with that fulness of foliage which was not yet 
theirs. The Cardinal discoursed much on forest trees, and 



LOTH AIR. 



69 



happily. He recommended Lothair to read Evelyn's 
' Sylva.' Mr. Evelyn had a moet accomplished nuod ; 
indeed, a eharacter in every respect that approached per- 
(ectioB. He was also a moat reli^oua mail. 

' I wander,' anid Lothair, ' how any man who Is religiona 
can tUink of anything but religion.' 

' Tiiae,' said the Cardinal, and looking at him earnestly, 
' most tme. Bat all things that are good and beautifal 
make iia more religions. Tliey tend to the development of 
the religious principle in as, which is our divine nature. 
And, my dear young friend,' and here his Emiuence pnt 
Ilia arm easily and affectionately into that of Lothuir's, ' it 
is a most happy thing for yon that you live so much with 
a really religions family. It is a great boon for a. youn^ 

' I feel it so,' said Lothair, his face kindling. 

' Ah I ' Baid the Cardinal, * when we remember that thia 
cOTuitry once consisted only of sach families ! ' And then, 
with a sigh, and aa if speaking to himself, ' and they made 
it so great and so beautiful 1 ' 

' It is still great and beautiful,' said Lothair, bat rather 
ia a tone of enquiry than decision. 

■ But the cause of its greatness and its beauty no longer 
exists. It became great and beautiful because it believed 
in God.' 

' Bat faith ia not extinct P ' said Lothair. 

* It exists in the Church,' replied the Cardinal with 
decision. 'All without that pale ia practical atheism,' 

* It seems to me that a sense of duty is natural to man,' 
said Lotliair, ' and that tliore can be no satisfRotioii in life 
withoQt attempting to fulfil it.' 

' Noble words, my dear young friend ; noble and tme. 
And the highest duty of man, especially in this age, is to 
vindicate the principles of religion, without which the 
world moat noon become a scene of universal desolation.' 



70 LOTH AIR. 



* I wonder if England will ever again be a religioaa 
oonntrj/ said Lothair mnainglj. 

* I pray for that daily/ said the Cardinal ; and he invited 
his companion to seat himself on the tnmk of an oak that 
had been lying there since the autumn £bi11. A slight hectic 
flame played over the pale and attenuated countenance of 
the Cardinal ; he seemed for a moment in deep thought ; 
and then in a voice distinct yet somewhat hushed, and at 
first rather &ltering, he said, ' I know not a gprander or a 
nobler career for a young man of talents and position in 
this age, than to be the champion and asserter of Divine 
truth. It is not probable that there could be another con- 
queror in our time. The world is wearied of statesmen, 
whom democracy has degraded into politicians, and of 
orators who have become what they call debaters. I do 
not believe there could be another Dante, even another 
Milton. The world is devoted to physical science, because 
it believes these discoveries will increase its capacity ot' 
luxury and self-indulgence. But the pursuit of science 
leads only to the insoluble. When we arrive at that barren 
term, the Divine voice summons man, as it summoned 
Samuel ; all the poetry and passion and sentiment of human 
nature are taking refuge in religion ; and he whose deeds 
and words most nobly represent Divine thoughts, will be 
the man of this century.' 

'But who could be equal to such a task,' murmured 
Lothair. 

' Yourself^' exclaimed the Cardinal, and he threw his 
glittering eye upon his companion. * Anyone with the 
necessary gifts, who had implicit faith in the Divine pur- 
pose.' 

' But the Church is perplexed ; it is ambiguous, contra- 
dictoiy.' 

'No, no,' said the Cardinal ; 'not the Church of Christ) 
it is never perplexed, never ambiguous, never contradio- 




LOTH AIR. 



tory. Why ahonld it be ? How conid it be ? The Dlriiie 
persons ftro ever with it, Btrengthening and gnidiDg it 
with perpeCoa) miiuclea. Perplexed cburches are cbnrchee 
made by At-t of Parliamont, not by God.' 

Lotbejr deemed to start, &ud looked at his gnardian with 
ft scmtmisitig glance. And then he said, but not witliout 
heeitatioii, ' I eiperience at times great despondency.' 

'Naturally,' replied the Cardinal. ' Every man must be 
doapondent who is not a Christian.' 

' Bat I am a Christian,' said Lothalr. 

* A Chriati&n estranged,' said the Cardinal ; ' a ChriBtion 

Illtboat the conaolationB of ChrtsLianity.' 
ft* There ia something in that,' said Lothair. *I reqaire 
IB coosolationB of Christianity, and yet I feel I have them 
trt. Why is this ? ' 
' Because what yon call your religion is a thing apart 
from yonr life, and it ought to be your life. Bieligion 
^^bould be the rale of life, not a casual incident of it. There 
^^Ksol a duty of existence, not a joy or sorrow which the 
^^Hric«8 of the Church do not assert, or with which they 
^^b not sympathise. Tell me, now ; you have, I wqa glad to 
hear, attended the services of the Chnrcli of late, since yon 
have been under this admirabb roof, Have yon not then 
found some consolation ? ' 

' Tea ; without doubt I have been often solaced.' And 
Lothair sighed. 

' What the soul is to man, the Church is to the world,' 
aaid the Cardba!. ' It is the link between us and tlie 
Divine nature. It came from heaven complete ; it baa 
never changed, and it can never alter. Its ceremonies are 
I of celestial truths; its services are suited to all the 
a of man ; they strengthen him in bis wisdom and bis 
rity, and contivl and save him in the hour of passion 
1 temptation. Taken aa a whole, with all its miniHtra- 
I, its orders, its offices, and the divine aplendoor of ita 



72 LOTH AIR. 



ntual, it secnret ns on earth some adnmbratioii of thai in- 
efiable glory which awaits the fiiithfal in heaven, when 
the blessed Mother of Ood and ten thousand saintr psr- 
petnallj guard us with Divine intercession.' 

' I was not taught these things in mj boyhood,' said 
Lothair. 

* And you might reproach me and reasonably, as your 
guardian, for my neglect,* said the CardinaL * Bat my 
power was very limited, and when my duties commenced, 
you must remember that I was myself estranged from the 
Church, I was myself a Parliamentary Christian, till de- 
spondency and study and ceaseless thought and prayer, and 
the Divine will, brought me to light and rest. But I at 
least saved you from a Presbyterian University ; I at least 
secured Oxford for you ; and I can assure you of my many 
struggles that was not the least.' 

' It gave the turn to my mind,' said Lothair, * and I am 
grateful to you for it. What it will all end in, Qod only 
knows,' 

' It will end in His glory and in yours,' said the Car- 
dinal. ' I have spoken perhaps too much and too freely, 
but you greatly interest me, not merely because you are 
my charge and the son of my beloved friend, but because I 
perceive in you great qualities; qualities so great,' con- 
tinued the Cardinal with earnestness, Hhat, properly 
guided, they may considerably affect the history of this 
country, and perhaps even have a wider range.' 

Lothair shook his head. 

' Well, well,' continued the Cardinal in a lighter tone, 
* we will pursue our ramble. At any rate, I am not wrong 
in this, that you have no objection to join in my daily 

prayer for the conversion of this kingdom to religious 

truth,' his Eminence added after a pause. 

* Yes ; religious truth,' said Lothair, * we must all pray 
for that.' 




CHAPTEE XVin. 

'HAiK returned to town excited and agitated. He felt 
that he was on the eve of some great event in hie existence, 
bat its precise cbnracter waa not defined. Otie conclnnioQ, 
however, waa indubitable : life mast be religion. When 
we consider wbat is at stake, and that onr eternal welfare 
depends on onr dne preparation for the future, il was fohy 
to spare a single hour from the consideration of the best 
means to secure our readiness. Such a subject does not 
admit of half measures or of halting opinions. It seemed 
to Lolhair that nothing could interest him in life that waa 
not sjmboUcal of Divine truths and an adumbration of the 
celestial hereafter. 

Could truth have descended from heaven ever to be dis- 
torted, to bo corrupted, misapprehended, misonderstood ? 
Impossible ! Such a behcf wonld confound and contradict 
ail the attributes of the All-wise and the All-mightj. There 
moat be trntji on earth now as fresh and complete as it 
waa at Bethichem. And how could it be preserved but hj 
the influence of the Paraclete acting on an ordained class ? 
Oil this head his tutor at Oxford had fortified him j by a 
iviction of tlio Apostolical succession of the English 
lopa, which no Act of Parhamcnt could alter or affect, 
it Iiothair was haunted by a feeling that the relations of 
his Communion with the Blessed Virgin were not satis- 
hetory. Tbey coald not content either his heart or hia 
intellect. Was it becoming that a Christian should hve aa 
regards the ballomed Mother of his God iu a condition of 
liarsh estrangement? What mediatorial influence more 
awl\illy appropriate than the consecrated agent of the 
rCnigbty mystery ? Nor could he, even in his early days, 
without a scruple the frigid avstem thivt would olaas 



Oat 




'ztsmri 'v^ni JUil ahsl jl ptsainiiil sciiUiaLicL with tbe 

nzxac 2« icimt TTsnnneuasin umaxij in. inisb Eves and cu«en» 
■L loisr Tigrr rrrioiicacaiiL. 'vuiinr surks aiKni oct firom ftD 

B^>scli*!» irrif SscniifaiiL LfC2air raced ilbeloB^ and \oitj 
rr^TTTrf w^nrfr ijai ^Msr wuTErrfd lK:r rfaK is. a Loodon botei 
wsica ;{7mliid 'Sht •ccunol jra-ntTTifrtfr cf Puis and the 
AiTprxaa. rL^usk T^iecr Xfcwrrr ^raasBBtxsmad their terrible 
mxfw fzr?i=T£r« wmiii niti hz %zz*r i^ie g*Zj er nB» mud portruta 
cif Vl.txp. Lcc£iftLr fsr*^jal 

WiT lii i^ias TTSLt i-nfr ec*£ r W^t dSd the wtn4d oon- 
sBiC df mz.TiLE=f? euitf tiL3 T^aS:? p&iMs in femT parka» or 
tiae be c<i2>«r ibi£ s pierc«-:;=&I HvOr W«ckr He never 
scrhed as V;&=lx». Wtt ~r He s:L7o»ed it was becaoae 
tLe7« ?%J£pc3i v&s rSs !ife« a=d bs« : acd he looked aromid 
him whh a s^:iiiRfr. Tbe Ou^iczal was right: it waa a 
cxkst Larrr thrrg £:r Lisi to be kiTissr so amch with so 
trc!T a reockyas finrv. 

Tbe doer opesed. aod mci le asts cazae in bearing a large 
and magnidcent portfolio. It was of moioeco and of pre-* 
latial parole with broad bands of cold and ahemato orna- 
ments of a croiss and a coronec A serrant handed to 
Lothair a letter, which enclosed the her thai opened its 
lock. Tbe portfolio contained the plans and drawings of 
the cathedraL 

Lothair was lost in admiration of these designs and their 
execntion. Bat after the first fever of inTestigation waa 
oyer, he required srmpathT and also information. In a 
tmlj religioos fiunilj there woold alwavs be a Father Cole- 
man or a Monsignore Catesbj to gfoide and to instmct. 






I Rft«) 

I Mrs 



LOTH AIR. 75 

Int a Proteataat, if he wants aid or adTice on an; matter, 
only go to his solicitor. But as he proceeded in hia 
researches, he scnsiblj felt that the bnsiiiesa was one above 
even an Oratorian or a Monalgnoro. It reqnired a 6ner 
and a more intimate sj-mpatliy ; a tasto at the same time 
tnore inspired and more inspiring ; some oua who bleodcd 
with divine convictions the graceful energy of human feel-. 
I woald not only animate him to effort bat 
iciuate bim to its fullitineut. The counsetlor he reqaired 

Miss Ai-andeL 
Ijothair hod quitted Vaoze one week, and it seemed to 
liim a yeur. During the first fonr-and-tweuty hours he 
felt like a child who had retnmEMl to Bchool, and the day 
ftfWr like a man on a dosort island. Various other foi-aia 
misery and misfortune were suggested by his succeeding 
lerience. Town brought no distractions to bim ; he 
very few people, and these he had not yet oncoun- 
ired ; he had once ventured to White'e, but found only a 
l^roDp of grey-headed men, who evidenyy did not know 
him, and who seemed to scan him with cynical noncha- 
lance. These were not the golden youth who be bad been 
BBSorcd by Bertram would greet bim : so, after reading a 
newspajier fur a moment upside downwards, he got away. 
But he had no harbour of refuge, and was obliged to ride 
down to Bichmond and dine alone and meditate on symbols 
»ad celestial adumbrations. Every day he felt how inferior 
waa this existence to that of a hfe in a truly religious 

Bnt of all the members of the family to which his 

recurred with such unflagging interest none more 

itly engaged hia thoughts tbon Miss Arundel. Her 

which stimulated bis intelligen^je while it 

nther piqnod hia self-love, exercised a great influence over 

and he had omitted no opportunity of enjoying her 

liety. That society and it« animating power be sadly 



76 LOTH AIR. 



missed ; and now that he had before him the very 
about which they had frequently talked, and she was not 
by his side to suggest and S3rmpathise and criticise and 
praise, he felt unusually depressed. 

Lothaiir corresponded with Lady St. Jerome, and was 
aware of her intended movements. But the return of the 
family to London had been somewhat delayed. When this 
disappointment was first made known to him his impulse 
was to ride down to Yauxe ; but the tact in which he was 
not deficient assured him that he ought not to reappear on 
a stage where he had alrt^ady figured for perhaps too con- 
siderable a time ; and so another week had to be passed, 
softened, however, by visits from the Father of the Ora- 
tory and the Chamberlain of his Holiness, who came to 
look after Lothair with much friendliness, and with 
whom it was consolatory and even delights for him to 
converse on sacred art, still holier things, and also Miss 
Arundel. 

At length, though it seemed impossible, this second week 
elapsed, and to-morrow Lothair was to lunch with Lady 
St. Jerome in St. James's Square, and to meet all his friends. 
He thought of it all day, and he passed a restless night. 
He took an early canter to rally his energies, and his fancy 
was active in the splendour of the spring. The chesnuts 
were in silver bloom, and the pink May had flushed the 
thorns, and banks of sloping turf were radiant with plots 
of gorgeous flowers. The waters glittered in the sun, and 
the air was fragrant with that spell which only can be 
found in metropolitan mignionette. It was the hour and 
the season when heroic youth comes to great decisions, 
achieves exploits, or perpetrates scrapes. 

Nothing could be more cordial, nothing more winning, 
than the reception of Lothair by Lady St. Jerome. She 
did not conceal her joy at their being again together. 
Even Miss Arundel, though still calm, even a little demure, 



I 



I 



LOTH AIR. 



77 



i glad to see Hm : her ejea looked kind and pimsed, 
BJid ahe gare liim her band with graceful heartineBs. It 
waa ihe Bacred bonr of two when Lotbair arriTed, and 
they were aommuned to loncheon alrnoit immediately. 

wn lliey wore not alone ; Lord St, Jerome was not there, 
|Bt the priests were present and some others. Lothair, 
?ver, sate next to Miss Arandel. 
hare been thinking of yon very oflen since I left 
hnie,' said Lothair to his neighbour. 
1 'Charitably, I am Bure." 

' I have boon thinking of yon every day," he continued, 

r I wanted your advice.' 

* Ah ! but that is not a popnlar thing to give.' 

' But it IB precious : at least, yours is to mo, and I want 
it now very much.' 

'Father Coleman told me you had got the pinna for the 
CAthodr&l,' Raid Miss Arnndcl. 

' And I want to show them to yon.' 

' I fear I am only a critic,' said Miss Arundel, ' and I do 
not admire mere critics. I was very free in my oommentt 
to jou on Bereral subjecta at Vauxe ; and I most now Bay 
I thoaght you bore it very kindly.' 

'I was enchanted,' said Lotliair, 'and desire nothing 
but to be ever subject to Bueh remarks. But this affair of 
the catLedral, it is your own thought ; I would fain hope 
your own wish, for unless it were your own wish 1 do not 
think I ever should be able to accomplish it.' 

' And when the cathedral is built,' said Miss Amndel, 
' what then ? ' 

' Do yon not remember telling ma at Vauae that all 
Bacred building.i siiould be respected, for that in the long 
mn tliey generally fell to the professors of the true faith ? ' 

' Bat when they built St. Peter's, they dedicated it to a 
saint in heaven,' said Miss Arunilel. ' To whom is yonrs 
to be inscribed ? ' 



7S LOTH AIR. 



* To a saint in heaven and on earth,' said Lothair, bhisb- 
ing ; 'to St. Glare.' 

Bat Lady St. Jerome and her gnests rose at this moment, 
and it is impossible to saj with precision whether this last 
remark of Lothair absolatelj reached the ear of Miss 
Arundel. She looked as if it had not. The priests and 
the other guests dispersed. Lothair accompanied the 
ladies to the drawing-room : he lingered, and he was me- 
ditating if the occasion served to saj more. 

Lady St. Jerome was writing a note, Miss Arundel was 
arranging some work, Lothair was affecting an interest in 
her employment in order that he might be seated by her 
and ask her questions, when the groom of the chambers 
entered and enquired whether her Ladyship was at home, 
and being answered in the affirmative retired, and an- 
nounced and ushered in the Duchess and Lady Gorisande. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



It soomed that the Duchess and Lady St. Jerome were 
intimate, for they called each other by their Christian 
names, and kissed each other. The young ladies also 
were cordial. Her Grace greeted Lothair with heartiness ; 
Lady Gorisande with some reserve. Lothair thought she 
looked very radiant and very proud. 

It was some time since they had all met, not since the 
end of the last season, so there was a great deal to talk 
about. There had been deaths and births and marriages, 
which required a flying comment ; all important events : 
deaths which solved many difficulties, heirs to estates 
which were not expected, and weddings which surprised 
everybody. 

* And have you seen Selina? ' enquired Lady St. Jerome. 



LOTH AIR. 



m 



M 



iamm&, tfa-is u oar Grsc visit,' replied 



' Kot jet ; except n 
the Duchess. 

' Ah ! that is real friendship ! She eiime down to Vame 
the other day, bat I did not think she was looking well. 
She &ots hereetf too mach about her boys ; she does not 
know what to do with them. They will not go into the 
Cboruh, and they have no fortune for the GuardB.' 

' I understood that Loi-d Platitagenet was to be a civil 
engineer,* said Lady Corisande. 

'Add Lord AJbert Victor to have a sheep-walk in 
Aostralia,' continned Lady St. Jerome. 

' They say that a lord must not go to the bar,' said Sliss 
Arundel. ' It seems to me very unjust.' 

' Alfred Beaufort wont the circuit,' said I>ady Corisande, 
' bnt I believe thoy drove him into Pail i anient.' 

' yon will misB your friend Bertram at Oiford,' i 
Ducbess, addressing Lothair. 

' Indeed,' said Lothair, rather confused, for 
self a defaulter in collegiate attendance. 
going to writd to him to see whether one ci 
haif a terta.' 

'Oh! nothing will prevent his taking hia degree,' said 
the Duchesfl, ■ hut I fear there must be some delay. There 
is A vacancy for onr county : Mr. Sandstone is dead, and 
they infiist upon returning Bertram. I liope lie will be 
of age before the nomination. The Duke is much op- 
posed to it ; ho wishes him to wait ; bat in these days it la 
Bot BO easy for young men to get into Parliament. It is 
not Its it used to be ; wc cannot choose.' 

' Tliia is an important event,' said Lothair to Lady Cori- 

• I think it ia ; nor do I believe Bertram is too young for 
public life. Tliese are not times to be laggard.' 

'There is no doubt they are very acrioua times,' said 
txithair. 



aid the 

r he was him- 
' I was just 
luld not keep 



8o LOTH AIR. 



' I have every confidence in Bertram, in his abilify tnd 
hJB principlefl.' 

The ladies began to talk abont the approaching Drawing- 
room and Lady Gorisande's presentation, and Lothair thonght 
ib right to make his obeisance and withdraw. He met in the 
hall Father Coleman, who was in fact looking after him^ 
and would have induced him to repair to the Father's room 
and hold some interesting conversation, bnt Lothair was 
not so congenial as usual. He was even abrupt^ and the 
Father, who never pressed anything, Ajmnming that Lothair 
had some engagement, relinquished with a serene brow, 
but not without chagrin, what he had deemed might have 
proved a golden opportunity. 

And yet Lothair had no engagement, and did mot know 
where to go or what to do with himself. But he wanted 
to be alone, and of all persons in the world at that moment, 
he had a sort of instinct that the one he wished least to 
converso with was Father Coleman. 

' She has every confidence in his principles,' said Lothair 
to himself as he mounted his horse, 'and his principles 
were mine six months ago, when I was at Brentham. De- 
licious Brentham ! It seems like a dream ; but everything 
seems like a dream : I hardly know whether life is agony 
or bliss.' 



CHAPTER XX. 



The Duke was one of the few gentlemen in London who 
lived in a palace. One of the half dozen of those stately 
structures that our capital boasts had fallen to his lot. 

An heir apparent to the throne, in the earlier days of the 
present dynasty, had resolved to be lodged as became a 
prince, and had raised, amid gardenn which he had diverted 



1 ova of Uie royal [inrks, an edifice not nnworUiy of 
Vioenea in its best days, though on a far more eitensivo scale 
tltiui any pile that faTonred city boa»ts. Before tlio pnliu^a 
was finished the prince died, and irretrieTably in debt. His 
c-secotors were glad to sell to the tnistcea of the anecstors 
of the chief of the house of Brentham the incomplete palace, 
which ought never to have been commenced. The ancestor 
ROf the Duke HTW by no means so stronEr a man as the Duke 
^^BfanseU', and pmdent people rather mnrmurod at the ex- 
^Hlcrit. But it na» what is called a Incky family ; that ia to 
*%iy, A family with ft charm that always attracted and ab- 
sorbed heiresses; and perhaps the Hplendonr of Ckecv 
House, for it always retained ita original title, might have 
in some degree contributed to fascinate the taste or imagina- 
tion of the beautifol women who, generation afler genera- 
tion, brought Uieir bright casllcs and their broad manors 
to swell the state and rent-rolls of the family who were so 
* ind to Tjothair. 

f The centre of Crocy House consisted of a hall of vast 

Mrtion, and reaching to the roof. Ita walls com- 

rated, in pointings by the most celebrated artiB*.s of 

t ag«, the exploits of the Black FHiice; ftnd its eoved 

, panels resplendent with Venetian gold, was 

Sght with the forms and portraits of English heroes. A 

pridor round this hall contained the most celebi-ated 

H^ate cnllection of pictures in England, and opened into 

\ It waa a rather early hour when I^thuir, the morning 
r bis meeting the Duchess at Lady St. Jerome's, colled 
t Crocy Honse ; bnt it was only to leave his card. Ht 
would not delay for a moment paying his respects there, 
ind yet ha shrank from thrusting himself immediately 



into the circle. The Duke's brougham w 



1 the conrb- 



Lothuir was holding his groom's herso, who hod 



82 LOTH AIR. 



dismounted, when tlie hall-door opened and his Grace and 
Bertram came forth. 

' Halloa, old fellow ! * exclaimed Bertram, * only think of 
your being here. It seems an age since we met. The 
Duchess was telling us about you at breakfast.' 

' Go in and see them,' said the Duke, ' there is a large 
party at luncheon ; Victoria Montairy is there. Bertram 
and I aro obliged to go to Lincoln's Inn, something about 
his election.' 

But Lothair murmured thanks and declined. 

* What are you going to do with yourself to-day ?' said 
the Duke. And Lothair hesitating, his Grace oontinaed: 
* Well then, come and dine with us.' 

* Of course you will come, old fellow. I have not seen 
you since you left Oxford at the beginning of the year. 
And then we can settle about your term.' And Lothair 
consenting, they drove away. 

It was nine o'clock before they dined. The days were 
getting very long, and soft, and sweet ; the riding parties 
lingered amid the pink May and the tender twib'ght breeze. 
The Montairys dined that day at Crecy House, and a 
charming married daughter without her husband, and Lord 
and Lady Clanmome, who were near kin to the Duchesa, 
and themselves so good-looking and agreeable that they 
were as good at a dinner-party as a couple of first-rate 
entrees. There was also Lord Carisbrooke, a young man 
of distinguished air and appearance; his own master, 
with a large estate, and thxce years or so older than 
Lothair. 

Tlicy dined in the Chinese saloon, which was of moderate 
dimensions, but bright with fantastic forms and colours, 
brilliantly lit up. It was the privilege of Lothair to hand 
the Duchess to her scat. He observed that Lord Caris* 
brooke was placed next to Lady Corisande, though he had 
not taken hor out.. 



I 



LOTH AIR. 

' This dtimer reminds me of my visit to Brcnthun,' saiH 
Lothair. 

•Almost the same party," aud the Duchess. 

* The visit to Breutham was the happiest time of my 
life,' said Lothair moodily. 

' But you have seen a great deal since,' said the Dnchosa. 

' I am not BO Bare it is of any use seeing things,' said 
Utbair. 

When the ladies retired, there was some talk abont 
bones. Lord Carisbroofce was breeding ; Lothair thought 
it was a doty to breed, but not to go on the tnrf. Lord 
Curiabrooke thanght there conld be no good breeding nitb- 
oat TUKxag; Lothair was of opinioQ that races might be 
ooofincd to one's own park», with no legs admitted, and 
immense prizes, which most canse emolation. Then they 
joined the ladies, and then, in a short time, tlicre was 
music. Lothair hovered about Lady Corisnnde, and at last 
seized a happy opportanity of addressing her. 

■ 1 shall never forget your singing at Brentbom," he said ; 
'at first I thought it might he aa I^dy Montairy said, 
because I was not used to liue singing ; but I heard the 
Venosina the other day, and I prefer your voice and 
Myle.' 

' Hare you heard the Vcnusinap* said I^ady Corisnnde 
with animation ; ' I know nothing that 1 look forward to 
with more interest. But I waa told she was not to open 
her mouth until she appeared at the 0[.<era. Where did 
yon hear her ? ' 

' Oh. I hciud her,' said Lothair, ' at the Roman Catholic 
Oalhedral.' 

" I am sore I a!ia!l never hear her there," said Lady 
Coriaaode, looking very gniro. 

• Do not yom think music a powerful accessory to re!i- 
gton ?' said Tiothair, but a little embarrassed. 

' Within certain hniite,' said Lady Corisandn, ' the limita 



I 



84 LOTH AIR. 



I am used to ; but I should prefer to bear Opera singers at 
the Opera.' 

* Ah ! if all amateurs could sing like you/ said Lothair, 
' that would be unnecessary. But a fine Mass by Mozart 
requires great skill as well as power to render it. I 
admire no one so much as Mozart, and especially his Masses. 
1 have been hearing a great many of them lately/ 

* So we understood,' said Lady Corisande rather dryly, 
and looking about her as if she were not much interested, 
or at any rate not much gratified, by the conversation. 

Lothair felt he was not getting on, and he wished to get 
on ; but he was socially inexperienced, and his resources 
not much in hand. There was a pause ; it seemed to him 
an awkward pause ; and then Lady Corisande walked away 
and addi'essed Lady Clanmome. 

Some very fine singing began at this moment ; the room 
was hushed, no one moved, and Lothair, undisturbed, had 
the opportunity of watching his late companion. There 
was something in Lady Corisande that to him was irre- 
sistibly captivating; and as he was always thinking and 
analysing, he employed himself in discovering the cause. 
* She is not particularly gracious,' he said to himself, * at 
least not to me ; she is beautiful, but so are others ; and 
others, like her, are clever, perhaps more clever. But 
there is something in her brow, her glance, her carriage, 
which indicates what they call character, and interests me. 
Six months ago I was in love with her, because I thought 
she was like her sisters. I love her sisters, but she is not 
the least like them.' 

The music ceased ; Lothair moved away, and he ap- 
proached the Duke. 

* I have a favour to ask your Grace,' he said. * I have 
made up my mind that I shall not go back to Oxford this 
term ; would you do me the great fiivour of presenting mc 
at the next Levee P ' 



CHAPTER XXI. 



t'i life changes 



moment, 
iquaiutaii 



Haifa 






n^o, 



Lo- 



thalr, williont an acquaiutaDcci, was meditating Lis rotnm 
to Oifonl, Now he Beeraed to know everybody who was 
anybody. His table was oyerfiowing with invitations to 
all the fine bouses in town. First camo the routs and Uie 
baits ; then, wbea he bad been presented to the fausbandf, 
i;ame the dinners. His kind iViesds the Ducbesn and Lady 
St. Jerome were the fiiiries who had worked this andden 
ttueiie of enchantment. A single word from them, and 
I>mdon WU3 at Lotbair's feot. 

He liked it amazingly. He quite forgot the conclnsion 
at which be had arrived respecting society a year ago, 
drMWii from hia vast experience of the single party which 

} bad then attended. Feeliogs are different when yon 
a great many persons, and every person is trying to 
) yon ; above ail, when there are individuals whom 
yoD want to meet, and whom, if you do not meet, you b^ 
oome restli^ss. 

To«rii was beginning to blane. Eronghama whirled nnd 

Ight barouches glanced, troopa of social cavalry cantered 
3 carncoUed in moming rides, and the bells of prancing 
Dies, laiihed by delicate bands, gingled in the laugliing 
I. There were stoppages in Bond Street, which seems 
cap the climax of civilisBtion, after ci''jwdc'd clubs and 
arming porks. 
But the great event of the season was the presentation 
' of Lodj Corisande, Traly our bright maiden of Brentham 
woke and famd herself famous. There are famiiies whom 
everybody praiNCB, and families who are treated in a dif- 
rorenl way. Either will do ; all the sons and daughters 
of the Grst Buccecd, all the sons and dat^btcra of tlis 



dr awn t 



16 LOTHAIR, 



last arc encouraged in perverscnesa by the prophetic 
determination of society. Half a dozen married siRten, 
who were the delight and ornament of their circles, in 
the case of Lady Gorisando were good precursors of popa- 
larity ; but the world would not be content with that : they 
credited her with all their charms and winning qualities, 
but also with something grander and beyond comparison ; 
and from the moment her fair cheek was sealed by the 
gracious approbation of Majesty, all the critics of the Court 
at once vecognised her as the cynosure of the Empyrean. 

Monsignore Catesby, who looked after Lothair, and was 
always breakfasting with him without the necessity of an 
invitation (a fascinating man, and who talked upon all sub- 
jects except High Mass), knew every thing that took place 
at Court without being present there himself. He led the 
conversation to the majestic theme, and while he seemed to 
be busied in breaking an egg with delicate precision, and 
hardly listening to the frank expression of opinions which 
he carelessly encouraged, obtained a not insufficient share 
of Lothair's views and impressions of human beings and 
affairs in general during the last few days, which had wit- 
nessed a Levee and a Drawing-room. 

* Ah ! then you were so fortunate as to know the beauty 
before her debut,* said the Monsignore. 

* Intimately ; her brother is my friend. I was at Brent- 
ham last summer. Delicious place ! and the most agreeable 
visit I ever made in my life, at least, one of the most agree- 
able.' 

* Ah I ah ! ' said the Monsignore. * Let me ring for some 
toast.' 

On the night of the Drawing-room, a great ball was given 
at Crecy House to celebrate the entrance of Corisande into 
the world. It was a sumptuous festival. The palace, re- 
sonant with fantastic music, blazed amid illumined gardens 
rich with summer warmth. 



LOTH AIR. t7 

\ A prince of tLe blood was dancing witb Ludy Conannilc. 
'as there, TtS'a-vis frith Itlisa Aroiidel. 
' I delight in this boll,' she said to Lolhoir ; ' but Law 
koperior the pictured scene to the reality ! ' 
' What ! would yon like, tlsen, to be in a battle ? ' 
■ I Bhonld like to bo with hcroea, wherever tliey might Iw, 
What a fine chamcter w&s the Black Pi-iuce ! And they 
call those days the days of snperstition !' 

The Biker horns sounded a brave flourish. Lothair had 
to advance and meet Lady Corisande. Her approaching 
i| m ien was full of grace and majesty, bot Lothair thon^hC 
^^piere was ft kind expreasioii in her glance, which M^meO 
^B» rcmoinbcr fireatham, and that he was her brother'^ 
^Hbend. 

A little later in the evening he was her partner. He 

conld not refrain from congratulating her on the beauty 

■nd the success of the festival. 

^m ' I am glad you are pleased, anH f. am glad yon tliink it 

^fescceesfdl ; but, yon know, I am no judge, fur Lliis is my 

^■ntbatU' 

^" 'Ah! to be sure; and yet it seems impossible,' ho cou- 
tiuQod, in a tone of murmuring admii-ation. 

' Oh ! I have been at little dances at ray sisters ;' half 
Iwhicd the door,' she added, with a slight sinilo. 'But 
H-ntght 1 am preuent at a scene of which I liave only 



■ And how do you like balls P ' said Lothair. 

' I thick I shall like tbcm very mnch,' 
e ; ' but to-night, I will confess, I 
rvons,' 
' Yon do not look ho.' 

* I am glad of that' 
•Why?' 

* Is it not a sign of weaknoss ? ' 

■ Can feeling be weak ueas P ' 



fiaid Lady 
un a little 



r^ 



88 LOTH AIR. 



'Feeb'ng witliont sufficient cause Is, I should think.' 
And then, and in a tone of some archness, she said, * And 
how do jou like balls ? ' 

* Well, I like them amazingly,' said Lothair. * They 
seem to me to have every quality which can render an 
entertainment agreeable: music, light, flowers, beautifnl 
faces, graceful forms, and occasionally charming conversa- 
tion.' 

' Yes ; and that never lingers,' said Lady Corisande, * for 
see, I am wanted.' 

When they were again undisturbed, Lothair regretted 
the absence of Bertram, who was kept at the House. 

^ It is a great disappointment,* said Lady Coriscuide ; * bat 
he will yet arrive, though late. I should be most unhappy 
though, if he were absent from his post on such an occasion 
I am sure if he were here I could not dance.' 

* You are a most ardent politician,' said Lothair. 

* Oh ! I do not care in the least about common politics, 
parties and office and all that ; I neither regard nor under- 
stand them,* replied Lady Corisande. * But when wicked 
men try to destroy the country, then I like my family to 
be in the front.* 

As the destruction of the country meditated this night 
by wicked men was some change in the status of tho 
Church of England, which Monsignore Catesby in tho 
morning had suggested to Lothair as both just and expe- 
dient and highly conciliatory, Lothair did not pursue the 
theme, for he had a greater degree of tact than usually falls 
to the lot of the ingenuous. 

The bright moments flew on. Suddenly there was a 
mysterious silence in the hall, followed by a kind of sup- 
pressed stir. Everyone seemed to be speaking with bated 
breath, or, if moving, walking on tiptoe. It was tho suppcfr 
hour: 

Soft hoar which irakes the wish and molts the hearL 



LOTHA IR. 



8.) 



Royalty, followed bj the impcriul prtscnca of ambtt»- 
Budors, and escorted by n grouji of diusEling dnchesses find 
piiliulins of liigli degree, was osliered with courteoas pomp 
by the hoat and bost^sa 111(0 ik clioice saloon, hong with 
rosc-cciloiirod tapestry and illDninud by chandeliers of 
crystal, where they were served from gold plate. But tho 
thonsaod less favoared were not badly off, when they found 
tlieniselves in tlie more capncians chanibere, into which 
tliey msbed with an engerneHa hardly in keeping with the 
aploadid nonchalance of the preai^ding hourB. 

' What a perfoot family,' exclaimed Hugo Bohnn, aa he 
extracted a conple of fat Iittl« birds from their bed of 
ftiqiio jelly ; ' everything thry do in BQch perfect tuate. 
Uow safe yoa were here to have ortolans for Eupper ! ' 

All the little round tables, tliongh thoir unnibcr was 
inGoite, were fall. Male groups hung about; some in 
attendance on fair doniBS, some foraging fur tliomqelvea, 
■ome thoughtful and more patient and awaiting a Batis- 
fiidory fntnre. Never was such an elegant clatter, 

' I wonder where Carisbrooka is,' said Hu^o Bohnn. 
' They say ho is wotideri'ully taken with tlie bcaubeoos 
(taagtit^r of the house.' 

■ 1 will back the Duke of Brc 
of his companions. ' H: 
jMtorday.* 

' Hem ! ' 

' The end is not so ' 
wwiHnilor. 

' I do not know that,' said Hngo Bohau. ' It i^ a family 
that marries off quickly. If a fellow is obliged to many, 
lio always UkCH to marry one of them,' 

' What of this new star ? ' said his friend, and lie men- 
tioned Loth air. 

'Oh! ho is loo young; not launched. Besides he is 
f!tiing to turn Catholic, and I doubt wbotlier that would do 
in that quarter.' 



1 against htm,' said one 
ivod about her at White's 



1 all that,' Eaid 1 



tliird 



90 LOTH AIR. 



* Bat ho has a gprcaler fortune than any of thenu* 

' Immense ! A man I know, who knows another 

man ' and then ho began a long statistical story alM>ut 

Lothair*s resources. 

* Have you got any room here, Hugo ? ' drawled out 
Lord St. Aldegonde. 

* Plenty, and here is my chair.* 

' On no account ; half of it and some soup will satisfy me.' 

' I should have thought you would have been with the 
swells,' said Hugo Bohun. 

^That does not exactly suit me,' said St Aldegonde. 
' I was ticketed to the Duchess of Salop, but I got a first> 
rate substitute with the charm of novelty for her Graoe^ 
and sent her in with Lothair.' 

St. Aldegonde was the heir apparent of the wealthiest, if 
not the most ancient, dukedom in the United Kingdom. 
He was spoiled, but he knew it. Had he been an ordinary 
being, he would have merely subsided into selfishness and 
caprice, but having good abilities and a good disposition, 
he was eccentric, adventurous, and sentimentaL Notvnth- 
standing the apathy which had been engendered by pre- 
mature experience, St. Aldegonde held extreme opinions, 
especially on political affairs, being a republican of the 
reddest dye. He was opposed to all privilege, and indeed 
to all orders of men, except dukes, who were a necessity 
He was also strongly in favour of the equal division of all 
property, except land. Liberty depended on land, and the 
greater the landowners, the greater the liberty of a country. 
He would hold forth on this topic even with energy, amazed 
at anyone differing from him ; ' as if a fellow could have too 
much land,' he would urge with a voice and glance which 
defied contradiction. St. Aldegonde had married for love, 
and he loved his wife, but he was strongly in favour of 
woman's rights and their extremest consequences. It was 
thought that he had originally adopted these latter views 



LOTH AIR. 91 

witli tfao amiable intcntioa ofpiqniiig Lady St. Aldegonde; 
but if 80, he had not succeeded. Beamicg with brightness, 
with the Toice aod airiness of a bird, and a cloudless 
lemper, AJbertha St. Aldegondo had, from the first hour of 
her marriage, coDCentrated her intelligeuce, which wna not 
mean, on one objet;t; and that was nertr to cross her 
linsbaitd on any conceivable topic. Tiicj had been married 
eereral years, and she treated liim ae a darling sfioiled 
child. When ho criod for the moon, it was promiaed him 
immediately ; however irrational his proposition, she always 
assented to it, (hongh generally by tact and vigilance she 
guided him in the right direction. Nevertheless, St. Aide- 
gonde was sometimes in scrapes ; but then be always yreot 
and told hia best friend, whose greatest delight was to 
ectricate bitp from his perplexities and embarrassments. 



CHAPTER XXII. 



AlfTHoroH Lolhair was not in the slightest degree shaken 
in hia conviction that lii'e should be entirely religions, he 
was perplexed by the inevitable obstacles which seemed 
perpetually to oppose themselves to the practice of hia 
o[»iaiocB. It was not merely plcaanre in its multiform ap. 
peara:ices that he hod to contend against, but basineaa 
bogan imperiously to solicit his attention. Every month 
brought him nearer to his majority, and the frequent letters 
from Mr. Patney Giles now began to assume the pressing 
shape of solicitationa for personal interviews. He had 
B long conversation one morning with Father Coleman on 
this subject, who greatly relieved him by the assurance 
tliat a perfectly religions life was one of which the sove- 
reign purpose was to uphold the interests of tlie Omrch; 
ot Christ, tiiB Father added after a momentary pans*, 



f$K^ 



92 LOTH AIR. 

]3u8ines8, and even amusement, were not only compatible 
with BQch a parpose, but might even be condacive to its 
fulfilment. 

Mr. Putney Giles reminded Lotbair that the attainment 
of his majority must be celebrated, and in a becoming 
manner. Preparation, and even considerable preparation, 
was necessary. There were several scenes of action ; some 
very distant. It was not too early to contemplate arrange- 
ments. Ijothair really must confer with his guardians. 
They were both now in town, the Scotch uncle having 
come up to attend Parliament. Could they be brought 
together ? Was it indeed impossible ? If so, who was to 
give the necessary instructions ? 

It was much more than a year since Lothair had met his 
uncle, and he did not anticipate much satisfaction from the 
renewal of their intimacy ; but every feeling of propriety 
demanded that it should be recognised, and to a certain 
degree revived. Lord Culloden was a black Scotchman, 
tall and lean, with good features, a hard red face and iron 
grey hair. He was a man who shrank from scenes, and 
he greeted Lothair as if they had only parted yesterday, 
liooking at him with his keen, unsentimental, but not 
unkind eye, he said, * Well, sir, I thought you would have 
been at Oxford.* 

* Yes, my dear uncle ; but circumstances * 

* Well, well, I don't want to hear the cause. I am very 
glad you are not there ; I believe you might as well be at 
llome.' 

And then in due course, and after some talk of the past 
Hud old times, Lothair referred to the suggestions of Mr. 
Giles, and hinted at a meeting of his guardians to confer 
and advise together. 

* No, no,' said the Scotch peer, shaking his head ; * I will 
have nothing to do with the Scarlet Lady. Mr. Giles is an 
able and worthy man ; he may well be ti*nstcd to draw np 



LOTH AIR. 



93 



% pro^rninmo for uur ormsideratioii, and indeed it in an 
aFftir in nliicb jonreolf should be racist c<insiiUed. Let all 
be done liberally, for you bava a great ialiorltauco, and 1 
woa!d be no ciirHindgcon in tlieaa matters.' 

' Well, my dear oncle, whatever is arron^il, I bopo jou 
and my cousins will honour and gratify me with your 
presence tbronghout the prooeediogs.' 

'WoU. well, it ia not much in my way. You will ha 
having balls and fine ladies. There is no fool like an old 
fool, they say ; but I think, from what I bear, the young 
fools will beat na in the present day. Only think of young 
persona going over to the Church of Roroa. Wliy, they 
are just naturals ! ' 

The organising genius of Mr. Putney Giles had mrely 
encountered a more fitting theme than the celebration of 
tiic impending mnjority. There was place for all his 
energy and talent and resources : a great central inaugura- 
tion ; sympathetica] festivals and gatherings in half a 
dozeu other counties ; the troth, as it were, of a aiatcr 
kingdom to he pledged ; a vista of balls and banquets, and 
iUnminations and addresses, of ceaseless sports and speeches, 
and processions alike endless, 

*'\VTiat I wish to effect,' said Mr. Giles, as he was giving 
his mnltifarians orders, 'is to prudnce among nil classes an 
impression adequate to the occasion. I wish the lord and 
Ibo tenantry alike to feel they have a doty to perform." 

In the meantime, Monsignoro Cittcsby was prt'saing 
liothair to become one of the patronx of a Itoman Calboliu 
Basaar, where l^y St. Jerome and Miss Arundel were to 
preside over a stall. It was of importance to show that 
charity was not the privilege of any particular creed. 

Between his lawyers, and hts monsigcores, and his 
mrultitecta, Lothair began to get a little harassed. Ho was 
disturbed in bis own mind, too, on greater matters, aitil 
•vtuned to feel cvtiry day that it wati more necessary to take 



94 LOTH AIR. 



a decided stop, aud more impossible to decide upon what 
it shonld be. He frequently saw the Cardinal, who was 
very kind to him, but who had become more reserved on 
religious subjects. He had dined more than once with his 
Eminence, and had met some distinguished prelates and 
some of his fellow nobles who had been weaned firom the 
errors of their cradle. The Cardinal perhaps thought 
that the presence of these eminent converts would facili- 
tate the progress, perhaps the decision, of his ward ; but 
something seemed always to happen to divert Lothair in 
his course. It might be sometimes apparently a very 
slight cause, but yet for the time sufficient ; a phrase of 
Lady Corisande for example, who, though she never di* 
rectly addressed him on the subject, was nevertheless 
deeply interested in his spiritual condition. 

* You ought to speak to him, Bertram,' she said one day 
to her brother very indignantly, as she read a fresh para- 
graph alluding to an impending conversion. ' You are his 
friend. What is the use of friendship, if not in such a 
crisis as this ? ' 

' I see no use in speaking to a man about love or religion,* 
said Bertram; 'they are both stronger than friendship. 
If there be any foundation for the paragraph, my inter- 
ference would be of no avail ; if there be none, I should 
only make myself ridiculous.* 

Nevertheless, Bertram looked a little more after his 
friend, and disturbing the Monsignore, who was at break- 
fast with Lothair one morning, Bertram obstinately out- 
stayed the priest, and then said : * I tell you what, old 
fellow, you are rather hippish ; I wish you were in the 
House of Commons.' 

' So do I,' said Lothair, with a sigh ; ' but I have come 
into everything ready-made. I begin to think it very 
unfortunate.' 

• What are you going to do with yourself to-day ? If you 



LOTH AIR. 



95 



be disengagit'd, I voto wc dine togotbcr st White's, tmd then 
we will go down to the House. I will take you to tho 
Brooking- room and intruduco yon to Bright, and vre niU 
trot bim out on primogeuituri;.' 

At this moment the sarvaut bronglit Lothair two letters ; 
one waa an epistlo from Father Coleman, meeting Lothair'a 
ol>joctiona to hocoming a patron of the Roman Catholic 
Bauuu' in a very nnctuons and exhaustive Tnanpcr; anil 
tho other from hia stud-groom nt Oxford, delalliog some of 
tboae disagreeable things which will happen with absent 
_tiuwtters who will not answer letters. Loth^r loved bin 
table, and felt particnlarly anxious fo avoid the threatened 
bit of Father Coleman on tha moirow. His decision waa 
pipid. * 1 must go down this afWruoon to Oilbrd, my dear 
'. My stable is in confusion. I shall positively 
a lo-morrow, and I will dine with yon at Wliife's, anJ 
t will go to the Uouae of Commons together or go to 



CHAPTER SXIII. 

nBllB's stables were about three miles from Oxford. 
tey wore a rothcr considerable estiiblishmont, in which he 
1 taken much interest, and having always intended to 
a to Ojdbrd in ihe early part of tho year, idtliough he 
d oooftaioDally sent for a hack or two Co London, his stud 
;enonilly maintained. 
I The morning aftor his arrival, be rode over to the 
iblcs, whore he bod ordered hia drag to be ready. Abont 
k qonrtor of a mile before ho reached bis place of destina- 
Q ht) obacrvcd at some little distance a ci'owd io the road, 
nijig OD, perceived as be drew nearer a number 
f nutn clustered round a dismAntlod vehicle, and vainly 



rm 



96 LOTH AIR. 



endoavouriiig to extricate and raise a faUen horae ; its ocno- 
panion, pauting and foaming, with broken harness bat 
apparently nninjnrod, standing aside and held by a boj. 
Somewhat apart stood a lady alone. Lothair immediately 
dismounted and approached her, saying, * I fear yon are in 
trouble, madam. Perhaps I may be of service ? * 

The lady was rather tall and of a singularly distinguished 
presence. Her air and her costume alike intimated high 
breeding and fashion. She seemed quite serene amid the 
tumult and confusion, and apparently the recent danger. 
As Lothair spoke, she turned her head to him, which had 
been at first a little averted, and he beheld a striking coun« 
tcuanco, but one which he instantly felt he did not see for 
the first time. 

She bowed with dignity to Lothair, and said in a low 
but distinct voice, * You are most courteous, sir. We have 
bod a sad accident, but a great escape. Our horses ran 
away with us, and had it not been for that heap of stones I 
do not see how we could have been saved.' 

* Fortunately my stables are at hand,' said Lothair, * and 
I have a carriage waiting for me at this moment, not a 
quarter of a mile away. It is at your service, and I will 
send for it ;' and his groom, to whom he gave directions, 
galloped off. 

There was a shout as the fallen horse was on his legs 
again, much cut, and the carriage shattered and useless. A 
p^entleman came from the crowd and approached the lady. 
He was tall and fair and not ill-favoured, with fine dark 
eyes and high cheek bones, and still young, though an 
enormous beard at the first glance gave him an impression 
of years the burthen of which he really did not bear. His 
dress, though not vulgar, was richer and more showy than 
is usual in this country, and altogether there was som^ 
thing in his manner which, though calm and full of self- 
respect, was different from the conventional refinement of 



LOTH AIR. 



97 



} mujit Iw 



to ^t 
My 



woB apparently an Engl if 
osid to tlie ladv, ' It is a bad Lnsiness, but 
tliitnkr<il it is DO worse. Wliat troubles me ifl liow yon ai-B 
to get bnelt. It will be a terrible walk over these stony 
!, and 1 can hear of no conveyance.' 
'*Hy boEband,' said the lady, as with dimity she pre- 
Bitcd the person to Lotliair. ' This gentleman,' s)ie 
oontinoed, ' has most kindly oSbrcd ns the nra of hia 
carriage, which is almost at hand.' 

' Sir, yon are a friend,' said the gontleman. ' I thonght 

tliore were no horses that I could not master, bnt it soema 

I am mistaken. I bonght these only yesterday; took B 

61017 to them aa wo were driving abont, and bought them 

^^f a dealer in the road.* 

^H|* That seems a clever animal,' said Lothair, pointing to 

^■r 'Ah I yon like horses F ' said the gentleman. 
• Well, I liave some taate that way.' 
' We are visitora to Oiford,* said the lady. ' Coloiwl 
Campian, like all Americans, is very interested in the 
ancient parts of England.' 

'To-day we were ^ing to Blenheim,' said the Colonel ; 
bat I thoDght I would try these new tits a bit on a by- 
first.' 
AU'a well that ends well,' said Lothair ; ' and there is 
why yon ahonld r.jt fulfil your intention of going 
Blenheim, for here ts my carriage, and it is entirely at 
yonr service for the whole day, and, indeed, as long as you 
Bloy at Oxford.' 

quires no coronet on yonr carriapo to tell 

lohleman,' Baid the Colonel. ' I like frank 

mere, and 1 like your team. I know few things that 



■trot 
^ToBl 






e than lo try them.' 

, highly bred, with black i 



98 LOTH AIR. 



and tails. They had tho Arab eye, with arched necks, and 
seemed proud of themselves and their master. 

' I do not see why we should not go to Blenheim,' said 
the Colonel. 

* Well, not to-day,' said the lady, • I think. We have had 
an escape, bat one feels these things a little more after- 
wards than at the time. I would rather go back to Oxford 
and be quiet ; and there is more than one college which 
you have not yet seen.' 

* My team is entirely at your service wherever yon go," 
said Lothair ; ' but I cannot venture to drive yon to Ox- 
ford, for I am there in statu pupillari, and a proctor might 
arrest us all. But perhaps,' and he approached the lady, 
' you will permit me to call on you to-morrow, when I hope 
I may find you have not suffered by this misadventure.' 

* We have got a professor dining with us to-day at seven 
o'clock,' said the Colonel, ' at our hotel ; and if you are dis- 
engaged and would join the party, you would add to the 
favours which you know so well how to confer.' 

Lothair handed the lady into the carriage, the Colonel 
mounted the box and took the ribbons like a master, and 
the four roans trotted away with their precious charge and 
their two grooms behind with folded arms and impertur- 
bable countenances. 

Lothair watched the equipage until it vanished in the 
distance. 

' It is impossible to forget that countenance,' he said ; 
*' and I fancy I did hear at the time that she had married 
an American. Well, I shall meet her at dinner, that is 
something.' And he sprang into his saddle. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Thi Oxford Professor, who was the guest of the Anicrican 
Colonel, naa qnitc a young mnii, of advancod opinions on 
kll sabjcct«, religious, Hocial, and political. He was clever, 
extremeljT well -in formed, bo for as books can make a nmn 
knowing, but unable to profit even by tlmt limited experi- 
<-noo of life from a restless ranity and overflowing conceit, 
wbicli prevented him from ever obaerring or thinking of 
anytliing but himself. He was gifled with a great command 
of words, which took the form of enilloss exposition, varied 
by aarcaam and pass^es of ornate jargon. He was the last 
person one would have expected to recognise in an Oxford 
pnifesaor ; but we live in times of transition. 

A Parisiaa man of science, who had passed his life 
in alternately fighting at barricades and discovering 
lilanetj^, had given Colonel Campiau, who had lived much 
B the French capital, a letter of introduction to the Pro- 
ior, whose invectives against the principles of English 
ictj were liajled by foreigners as representative of the 
{btiinonta of vcnemhle Oxford. The Professor, who wna 
I eattsfied with his home career, and, like many men of 
I order of mind, had dreams of wild vanity which 
> New World, they think, can alone realise, was very 
1 to make the Colonel's aci[iiiuntanco, which might 
eilitato his future movements. So he had lionised the 
ttinguiflhed vinitora daring the last few days over the 
Diveraity, and had availed liinisolf of plenteous opportuui- 
jxliihiting to them his celebrated powers of oxposi- 
i, Ide talent for sarcasm, which be deemed peerless, and 
(Terml highly finislied picturesque passages, which were 
)daced with cxteniporary art. 



loo LOTH AIR. 

The Professor was mnch surprised when he saw Lotliair 
enter the ealoon at the hotel. He was the last person 
in Oxford whom he expected to encounter. Like seden- 
tary men of extreme opinions, he was a social parasite, 
and instead of indulging in his nsnal invectives against 
peers and princes, finding himself unexpectedly about to 
dine with one of that class, he was content only to dazzle 
and amuse him. 

Mrs. Campian only entered the room when dinner was 
announced. She greeted Lothair with calmness but amen- 
ity, and took his offered arm. 

' Ton have not suffered, I hope P ' said Lothair. 

* Very little, and through your kindness.* 

It was a peculiar voice, low and musical, too subdued to 
call thrilling, but a penetrating voice, so that however 
ordinary the observation it attracted and impressed atten- 
tion. But it was in harmony with all her appearance and 
manner. Lothair thought he had never seen anyone or 
anything so serene ; the serenity, however, not of humble- 
ness, nor of merely conscious innocence ; it was not devoid 
of a degree of majesty; what one pictures of Olympian 
repose. And the countenance was Olympian: a Phidian 
face, with large grey eyes and dark lashes; wonderful 
hair, abounding without art, and gathered together by 
Grecian fillets. 

The talk was of Oxford, and was at first chiefly main- 
tained by the Colonel and the Professor. 

' And do you share Colonel Campian*s feeling about Old 
England ? ' enquired Lotliair of his hostess. 

' The present interests me more than the past^* said the 
lady, ' and the foture more than the present.* 

' The present seems to me as unintelligible as the future,' 
said Lothair. 

'I think it is intelligible,' said the lady, with a faint 
smile. ' It has many faults, but not, I think the want of 
oloamess.' 



LOTHAIR. ' ,..-.- toi 

cot a destmcdre,' said the Profon^Dr,' addreuing 
"Uie Colonel bat epeaking loudly ; ' I woirfd '-tnaJntfciB 
Oxford cnder a-ny uircnmslauccs with the ''odcesa&ry 
cluuiges.' 

' And what are those, might I ask ? ' enquired Loth^r. 

* In reality not much. I woald get rid of the religion.' .. 
' Get rid of the religion ! ' said Lotbair. 

t' Too have got rid of it onue,' Koid the Professor. -'^.-J 

'Ton haTo altered, yon have what people call refnrmod '"' 
' said Lothair, ' but you have nob aboliBhed or oanishod 
from the UniverBity,' 

'The shock wonld not be greater, nor so great, as the 
change from the Papal to the E«formed Faith. BosideB, 
Univereitiea have nothing to do with religion,' 

' I thought Universities were anivereal,' said Lothajr, 
'wid had Bomething to do with everything.' 

' I dwmot conceive any Booiety of any kind without 
■ligion,' said the lady. 
■Iioth&ir glanced at her beautiful brow with dovoliou aa 

nttered these worda. 
I Colonol Canipian began to talk about horsea. AOor that 

• Professor proved to him that he was related to Edmund 
mpian the Jesuit; and then he got to the Gnnpowder 

lot, which he was not sure, if snccoEsful, might not have 
leGcially influenced the coarse of oar history. Probably 
B Irish difficulty would not then have esisted. 

I * I dislike plots,' said tlio lady -, ' they always fail.' 
'And whatever their object, are they not essentiidly 

immoral?' said Lothair. 

*I have more faith in ideas than in persons,' said the 
' \Vhen a truth is uttered, it will sooner or later be 
■tognised. It is only an allair of time. It ia better thut 

^■bould mature and nHtiirally germinate than be forced.' 
•Ton wonld reduce us to lotus- eaters,' exclaimed the 
roFcssor- ' Action ia natural to man. And what, after 




I02 -. ' LOTH AIR. 



all, aro con>»p&acies and rovolutionB but great principlos in 
violent action? ' 

' I tlvnk jou must be an admirer of repose,* said Lothair 
to tbQ.isi^dj, in a low voice. 

f Bec^nse I have seen something of action in my life,* 
.said'tlie lady, 'and it is an experience of wasted energies 
and baffled thoughts.* 
.'•• ' When they returned to the saloon, the Colonel and the 
' Profemor became interested in the constitution and dis- 
cipline of the American Universities. Lothair hung aboui 
the lady, who was examining some views of Oxford, and 
who was ascertaining what she had seen and what she had 
omitted to visit. They were thinking of returning home 
on the morrow. 

* Without seeing Blenheim ? ' said Lothair. 

* Without seeing Blenheim,' said the lady ; * I confess to 
a pang ; but I shall always associate with tliat name yout 
great kindness to us.* 

* But cannot we for once enter into a conspiracy together,' 
said Lothair, ' and join in a happy plot and contrive to go ? 
Besides I could take you to the private gardens, for the 
Duke has given me a perpetual order, and they are really 
exquisite.* 

The lady seemed to smile. 

* Theodora,* said the Colonel, speaking fit)m the end of 
the room, * what have you settled about your train to- 
morrow ? * 

* We want to stay another day here,* said Theodora, • and 
go to Blenheim.* 



CnAPTER XXV. 

D the private gardcTis at Blenheim. The buh 
B briUittnt ovor the ornate and jet pictnresqoe scuuo. 
'Bcautifnl, is itnot?' eiclaimud Lotliair. 
* Yis, certwnly beautiful,' £aid Theodoi'a. ' But, do yon 
know, I do not feel altogether content in these finegai-duns. 
The prinei|il© of exclusion on which tliey are all founded is 
to me dtjireBsiug. I reqnire in all things synipathy. You 
would not agree with me in this. The manners of your 
uouiilry are founded on exclusion.' 

■ But surely there are times and places when one would 
liVe to be alone?' 

' Without donbt,' said the lady, 'only I do not like arti- 
Grial loneliness. Even your parks, which all the world 
pruises, do not quite satisty mo. I prefi.T a forest where all 
may go, even the wild beasts.' 

*Bnt forests are not at command,' Eaid Lothair. 

1 make a solitude and call it peace,' said the lady, 
klh ft slight smile. 'For my part, my perfect life would 
t ft large and beautiful Tillage. I admire nature, but I 
i the presence of humanity. Life in great cities is 
I exLausling ; but in my village there should lie wr, 
s, and beautiful trees, a. picturesque scone, but enough 
fellnw-creatarca to ensure constant duty." 
'But the falSlmont of duty and society founded on what 
I call the principle of exclusion, are not incompatible,* 
poi Lothair. 

' No, but diflicuU. What should be natural becomes an M±i 
|lid in every an it is only tlio few who can be first-rate.* 
I have an ambition to bo a first-rate artist in that r'V 
rt,' said Loy-oir thoughtfully. 



I04 LOTH AIR. 

*Tliat does you mnch honour,' slie replied, *fbr yoa 
neoessarily embark in a most painful enterprise. The toil- 
ing multitude have their sorrows which, I believe, will 
somje day be softened, and obstacles hard to overcome ; but 
1 have always thought that the feeling of satiety, almost 
inseparable from large possessions, is a surer cause of misery 
than ungratiBed desires.' 

' It seems to me that there is a great deal to do,' said 
Loth air. 

* I think so,' said the lady. 

' Theodora,' said the Colonel, who was a little in advance 
with the Professor, and turning round his head, ' this re- 
minds me of Mirabel,' and he pointed to the undulating 
banks covered with rare shrubs and touching the waters of 
the lake. 

* And where is ^ilirabel ? * said Tx)thair. 

' It was a green island in the Adriatic,' said the lady, 
• which belonged to Colonel Campian ; we lost it in the 
troubles. Colonel Campian was very fond of it. I try to 
persuade him that our home was of volcanic origin, and has 
only vanished and subsided into its native bed.' 

* And were not you fond of it ? * 

* I never think of the past,' said the lady. 

* Oxford is not the first place where I had the pleasure 
of meeting you,* Lothair ventured at length to observe. 

* Yes, we have met before, in Hyde Park Gaixlens. Our 
hostess is a clever woman, and has been very kind to some 
Mends of mine.' 

* And have you seen her lately ? ' 

*She comes to see us sometimes. We do not live in 
London, but in the vicinity. We only go to London for 
the Opera, of which we are devotees. We do not at all 
enter general society ; Colonel Campian only likes people 
who interest or amuse him, and ho is fortunate in having 
rather a numerous acquaiutance of that kind.' 



'Well, I liv 
the lady. * I 
occompliEboil su 
prefer being alot 
__Ba the main eour 
nld reside ii 



LOTH AIR. 

* Bare fortnne ! ' asid Lothair. 

* Colonel CftinpiaQ lived a greiit deal at Paris before wo 
married,' said tlie lady, ' and id a circle of considerable 
onltore and cxeitocient. Ue is soci;J, but not conTcn- 

■B you conveiitional ? ' 

) only for climate and tbe aflections,' said 
1 foud of society tbat pleases me, that is 
d natui'al and ingenious ; otherwise I 
le, As for atmosphere, as I look upon it 
;o of felicity, you may bo surprised that I 
1 your coantry. I should myself like to go 
b America, bat that wodM not suit Colonel Campian ; and 
Bwe are to live in Enrope we must live in England. It is 
( pleaSEint to reside in a country where, if you hapj:>en 
b shelter or succour a friend, yon may bo subject to a 

ciliary visit.' 

■ Tlio Pittfessor stopped to deliver a lecture or address on 
) villa of Uadriau. Nothing could bo more minute or 
Uuresqns than bis description of that celebrated pica- 
It was varied by portraits of tlie Emperor and 
1 of his companions, and, after a rapid glance at the 
rtnnea of the imperial patriciate, wonnd up with some 
H favouruble to communism. It was really very 
»ver, and would have made the fortune of a literary society. 
*I wonder if tlicy bad gravel walks in thi3 villa of 
idrian,' said the Colonel. ' What I admire most in your 
mtry, ray Lord, are your gravel walks, though that lady 
mid Dot agrL-e with me in t.hst matter.' 
'You are against gravel walks,' eaid Lothair. 
' Woll, I cannot bring myself to believe that they had 
ravel walks in the garden of Eden,' said the lady, 
f They bad a repast at Woodatock, too late for luncheon, 
D early for dinner, but which it was agreed slionld serve 
n th« tatt«r mtMiL 






1 06 LOTH AIR. 

' That guits me exactlj,' said the lady ; ' I am a great 
foe to dinners, and indeed to all meals. I think when the 
good time comes we shall give up eating in pnhlic, except 
perhaps fruit on a green bank with music.* 

It was a rich twilight as they drove home, the lady 
leaning back in the carriage silent. Lothair sat opposite 
to her, and gazed upon a countenance on which the moon 
began to glisten, and which seemed unconscious of all 
human observation. 

He had read of such countenances in Grecian dreams : 
in Corinthian temples, in fanes of Ephesus, in the radiant 
shadow of divine groves. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



When they had arrived at the hotel. Colonel Campian pro- 
posed that they should come in and have some coffee, but 
Theodora did not enforce this suggestion, and Lothair 
feeling that she might be wearied gracefully, though un- 
willingly, waved the proposal. Remembering that on the 
noon of the morrow they were to depart, with a happy 
inspiration, as he said farewell, he asked permission to ac- 
company them to the station. 

Lothair walked away with the Professor, who seemed in 
a conservative vein, and graciously disposed to make seve- 
ral concessions to the customs of an ancient country. 
Though opposed to the land laws, he would operate 
gradually, and gave Lothair more than one receipt how 
to save the aristocracy. Lothair would have preferred 
talking about the lady they had just quitted, but as he 
soon found the Professor could really give him no informa. 
tion about her he let the subject drop. 



LOTH AIR. 



107 



The 
H»em 



i Bat not out of hia own mind. He was glad to be aJonc 
(■d brood over the last two flnya. They were among the 
>st interesting of hia life. He had encountered a chai- 
kctcr diSereut from any be bad yet met, had listened to 
tid his intelhgecco had been stimnlated by 
remarks made casually in (»sy conversation, and yet to 
liim pregnant with novel and somctimos serious meaning, 
The voice, too, lingered in hia ear, so huahed and deep and 
1 80 clear and aweet. He leant over hia mant«liiiece in 
temiog reverie. 
'And she is profoundly religious,' ho aiiid to himself; 
eive no kind of society witiiout religion. She 
has arrived at the same conclusion as myself. Wliat a 
privilege it woald be to speak to her on such subject* !' 

'ARera restleaa night the morrow came. About elever 
o'clock Lolhair veotured to call on his new fiienda. The 
lady waa alone ; ahe was standing by the window reading 
aji ItAlian newspaper, which she foldi^d up and placed aside 
wben Lothair was n^monncod. 

'We propose to walk to the station,' said Theodora; 
^^ tbo servants have gone on. Colonel Campian has a par- 
^^koular aversion to moving with any laggnge. He restricts 
^^be to tbis,' she said, pointing to her satchel, in which she 
^^BmI placed the foreign newspaper, * and for that he will not 
^Hv responsible.' 

^H^ *It was most kind of you to permit me to accompany yon 
^^lis morning,' said Lothair ; ' 1 should have been grieved 
to have part«d abmptly last night.' 

' I could not rofuse such a reqaest," said the lady; 'but 
duyoD know I never like to say farewell, even for four-and- 
mty hours. One should vanish like a spirit.' 
'Then 1 have erred,' said Lothair, 'againj^t your mica 
i principles.' 

' Say my fancies,' said the lady, ' my hnmoura, my whjma 
i this is not a farewell. Yoa wiU come and see 



io8 LOTH AIR. 

as. CoAonel Campian tells mo you have promised to give 
us that pleasure.' 

' It will be the greatest pleasure to me/ said Lothair ; ' I 
can conceive nothing greater.* And then hesitating a little, 
and a little blashing, he added, ' When do yon think I 
might come ? * 

* Whenever yon like,' said the lady, * you will always find 
me at home. My life is this i I ride every day very early, 
and far into the country, so I return tamed some two or 
three hours after noon, and devote myself to my friends. 
We are at home every evening, except opera nights, and 
let me tell you, because it is not the custom generally among 
your compatriots, we are always at home on Sundays.' 

Colonel Campian entered the room ; the moment of de- 
parture was at hand. Lothair felt the consolation of being 
their companion to the station. He had once hoped it 
might be possible to be their companion in the train ; bnt 
he was not encouraged. 

* Railways have elevated and softened the lot of man,' 
said Theodora, *and Colonel Campian views them with 
almost a religious sentiment. But I cannot read in a rail- 
road, and the human voice is distressing to me amid the 
whirl and the whistling, and the wild panting of the 
loosened megatheria who drag us. And then those terrible 
grottoes ; it is quite a descent of Proserpine ; so I have no 
resource but my own thoughts.' 

* And surely that is sufficient,' murmured Lothair. 
' Not when the past is expelled,' said the lady. 

* But the future ? * said Lothair. 

' Yes, that is ever interesting, but so vague that it some- 
times induces slumber.' 

The bell sounded, Lothair handed the lady to her com- 
partment. 

' Our Oxford visit,' she said, * has been a great success 
and mainly through you.' 



LOTIIAIR. 

TV.e Colonel wm profuse in his cordial furewella, and it 
Beemed they would never have ended hud not the train 

Lotbair remained upon the platfoiTn nntil it was ont of 
flight, &iid then exclaimed, ' Is it a dream, or shull I e 



CHAPTER XXVU. 

LoniiTB reached London lato in the tiftemoon. Among the 
Dofes and cards and letl«rs on hia table wati a long and 
pressing despatch from Mr. Pnlney Giles awaiting hia 
judgment and decision on many pointe, 

' The central inauguration, if I may nse the term,' said 
Mr. Pntney GiJea, ' is comparatively easy. It ia an ailiur 
of expense and of labour, great labour; I may say nnre- 
mitting labour. But your Lordship will observe the other 
points are not mere points of expense and labour. We 
havo to consnlt the feelings of acveral counties where yonr 
Lordship cannot be present, at least certainly not on this 
occasion, and yet where an adequate recognition of those 
wntiments which ought to exist between the proprietor 
and all classes connected with him ought to be secnrod. 
Then Scotland : Scotland is a very difficult business to 
manage. It ia astonishing how the ecntimont lingers in 
that country oonneclod with its old independence. I really 
am quite surprised at it. One of your Lordship's most 
important tenants wrote to mo only a few days bock, that 
great dissatisfaction would prevail among your Lordship's 
friends and tenantry in Scotland, if that country on ihis 
Oooaaion were placed on the same level as a mere English 
oonnty. It mast be rocogniaed as a kingdom. I almoBt 
thiak it would be bettor if we could persuade Lord Culloden 



no 



LOTH AIR, 



not to attend the English inaogaration, but remain in the 
kingdom of Scotland, and tako the chair and the load 
throughout the festal ceremonies. A peer of the reahn, 
and jour Lordship's guardian, would impart something of 
a national character to the proceedings, and this, with a 
judicious emblazoning on some of the banners of the royal 
arms of Scotland, might have a conciliatory effect. One 
should always conciliate. But your Lordship on all these 
points, and especially with reference to Lord Culloden, must 
be a much bettor judge than I am.' 

Lothair nearly gave a groan. ' I almost wish,' he thought, 
' my minority would never end. I am quite satisfied with 
things as they are. What is the kingdom of Scotland to 
me, and all these counties? I almost begin to feel that 
satiety which she said was inseparable &om vast pos- 
sessions.' 

A letter ^m Bertram reminding him that he had not 
dined at White's as he had promised, and suggesting some 
new arrangement, and another from Monsignore Catesby 
earnestly urging him to attend a most peculiar and solemn 
function of the Church next Sunday evening, where the 
Caidinal would officiate and preach, and in which Lady 
St. Jerome and Miss Arundel were particularly interested, 
did not restore his equanimity. 

A dinner at White's ! He did not think he could stand 
a dinner at White's. Indeed he was not sure that he could 
stand any dinner anywhere, especially in this hot weather. 
There was a good deal in what she said : * One ought to 
oat alone.' 

The ecclesiastical function was a graver matter. It had 
been long contemplated, often talked about, and on occa- 
sions looked forward to by him even with a certain degree 
of eagerness. He wished he had had an op]K)rtunity of 
speaking with her on these matters. She was eminently 
religious ; that she had voluntarily avowed. And he felt 



LOTH. 4 1 R. 

|<ei-8naded thnt no light or thonghtlesa remark could fall 
From those tips. He wondered to n'h;it Charcli xhe lio- 
loogedF Protcatant or Pup&l ? Her hnnbuiid, hoing iiu 
American, was probably a Protestant, but lie was a gentle- 
Diiin of tlie South and with nothing puritanical about hinu 
She WW) a European, and probably of a, Latin luue. In all 
likelihood she was a Itoman Catholic. 

It was Wednesd.iy evoaing, and his valot reminded him 
that be waa engaged to dine with Lord and Ladv &Iont~ 

Lothoir sighed. He waa so absorbed by his now fralioga, 
that be shrunk from socic^ with a certain degree of aver- 
sion. He folt it quite out of his power to fulhl hia engage- 
ment. He sent an excuse. It was Lothair'a first excuse. 
In short, he ' threw over ' the Blontairya, to whom he was 
BO much attached, whom he so much admired, ntid whose 
•iieicty he had hitherto so highly prized. 

To ' tlirow over ' a host is the most heinous of social 
crimi'A. It ongbt never to be pardoned. It disjoints a 
l*rtj, oflcn defeats the combinationa which might olToct 
the results of a aeaxon, and generally renders the society 
incoherent and nnsatis factory. If the outi-ape could ever 
be condoned it might bo in the in.stanco of a young man 
very iricsperienced, the victim of some uneipuctcd eondi- 
iJou of nervous feolingB over which the defaulter has really 
no control. 

It wBA evening, and the restless Lothair walked fortli 
williout a purpose, and in a direction which he rarely 
ri»it«d. ■ It ia a wonderful place,' said ho, ' this London ; 
a nation, not a city ; with a population greater than some 
kiti[;dotns, and districts as dtirercnt as if they were niidor 
different gnvemments and spoke different languages. Acid 
what do I know of it ? I have been living here six months, 
and ray life has boon pasHod in a park, twn or three squares, 
uid lialf a doaen streets ! ' 




rp* 



112 LOTH AIR. 



So be walked on and soon crossed Oxford Streot, like 
the Rhine a natural boundary, and then got into Portland 
Place, and then found bimself in the New Road, and then 
he hailed a cruising Hansom, which he had previously ob- 
served was well-horsed. 

* 'Tis the gondola of London,' said Lothair as he sprang 
in. 

* Drive on till I tell you to stop.* 

And the Hansom drove on, through endless boulevards, 
some bustling, some dingy, some tawdry and flaring, Rome 
melancholy and mean; rows of garden gods, planned on 
the walls of yards full of vases and divinities of concrete, 
huge railway halls, monster hotels, dissenting chapels in 
the form of Gothic churches, quaint ancient almshouses 
that were once built in the fields, and tea-gardens and 
stingo houses and knackers' yards. They were in a district 
far beyond the experience of Lothair, which indeed had 
been exhausted when he had passed Eustonia, and from 
that he had been long separated. The way was broad but 
ill-lit, with houses of irregular size but generally of low 
elevation, and sometimes detached in smoked-dried gar- 
dens. The road was becoming a bridge which crossed a 
canal, with barges and wharves and timber yards, when 
their progress was arrested by a crowd. It seemed a sort 
of procession ; there was a banner, and the lamp-light fell 
upon a religious emblem. Lothair was interested, and de- 
sired the driver not to endeavour to advance. The proces- 
sion was crossing the road and entering a building. 

'It's a Roman Catholic chapel,' said a bystander in 
answer to Lothair. ' I believe it is a meeting about one of 
their schools. They always have banners.' 

* I think I will get out,' said Lothair to his driver. 
• This I suppose will pay your fare.' 

The man stared with delight at the sovereign in his 
astonished palm, and in gratitude suggested that he should 



LOTH AIR. 



113 



a nsd wait Tor tlu gentJeman, bat the restlesa LoUiiur 
ilined ihe proposal. 

r,' s&id the tuan, leaning down liis liead as low as 
ni>1e from hia elevated seat, and speakin^r in a linBbed 
'yon are a real gcntlomfLii. Do yon know nliat all 
iaP* 

I^Tes, yes; some meeting about a Boman CntholioBchool.* 
I Bhook htB bead. * Yon are a real gentleman, 
1 1 will tt-ll yon UiB truth. Tliey meet about the schoola 
F'tho order of St. Joseph, over the lefl. It ia a I'enian 
iteeting.' 
' A Fenian meeting ! ' 

' Ay, ftv, and yon cannot enter that place without a 

ticket. Juflt you try ! However, if a geatloman like you 

wntita to go, yon aball have my ticket,' said the cabdrivcF ; 

' and here it is. And may 1 drive to-morrow oa true n 

Btleman as I have driven to-day.' 

D saying be took a packet from hi« breast pocket, and 
Bxing it offered to Loth:ur a green slip of paper which 
■ willingly accopted. ' I Bhoold like above all things to 
fc* he Baid, and be blended with the rear of those who 
s entering the building. The collector of the tirket« 
I at Lotbair and scmtinised his pass, but all wii» in 
r, and Lotbair was ajlmittcd. 
He passed throngh a liouso and a yard, at the bottom of 
■ich was a rather spacious building. Wben be entcruil 
\ bo BAw in an instant it was not a chapel. It was what 
■l^llod a temperance hull, a room to be hired for pnblio 
with a raised platform at the end, on whicli 
itn half a dozen men. The ball was tolerably full, and 
Lotliair came in among the laaC. There were some children 
Kitting on a form placed against the wall of the room, cocfa 
witb a bun which kept them quiet; the banner belonged 
Id this suhiiol, aiid was the banner of St. Joseph. 

A mou dresiied like a, priest, and kuon'n as Father 



114 LOTH AIR, 



O'Molloj, came forward. He was received with signs of 
niach 8 jm path J, succeeded by complete silence. He ad- 
di*ossed them in a popular and animated style on the ad- 
vantages of education. They knew what that was, and 
then they cheered. Education taught them to know their 
rights But what was the use of knowing their rights 
unless they enforced them ? That was not to be done by 
prayer books but by something else, and something else 
wanted a subscription. 

This was the object of the meeting and the burthen of 
all the speeches which followed, and which were progres- 
sively more outspoken than the adroit introductory dis- 
course. The Saxon was denounced, sometimes with 
coarseness, but sometimes in terms of picturesque passion ; 
the vast and extending organisation of tlie brotherhood 
was enlarged on, the great results at hand intimated ; the 
necessity of immediate exertion on the part of every in- 
dividual pressed with emphasis. All these views and re- 
marks received from the audience an encouraging response ; 
aud when Lothair observed men going round with boxes, 
and heard the clink of coin, he felt very embarrassed as to 
what he should do when asked to contribute to a fund 
raised to stimulate and support rebellion against his Sove- 
reign. He regretted the rash restlessness which had in- 
volved him in such a position. 

The collectors approached Lothair, who was standing at 
the end of the room opposite to the platform, where the 
space was not crowded. 

* I should like to speak to Father O'Molloy,* siiid 
Lothaii* ; * ho is a priest and will understand my views.* 

' He is a priest here,* said one of the collectors with a 
Kardonic laugh, * but I am glad to say you will not find his 
name in the directory. Father O'Molloy is on the platform 
and engaged.* 

* If you want to speak to the Father, speak fixjm wbnrc 




1! ptlicr collector. 'Hoi's, ailecce! 'a 
gratleman mints to address tbe meeting.' 

And there was silence, and Lothair felt estremely om- 
b&rrassed, but ho was not wanting, though it was tho first 
time in his life that he IimI addressed a public meeting. 

' Geotlenien,' snid lAitliair, ' I really bad no wish to 
intrude npon yoa ; all I desired waa to epi.'ak to Father 
O'MoDoy. 1 wished to toll him that it weald have given 
me pleofiare to subscribe to thege aoliools. I nni not a 
Roman Cutholio, but I reapoct the Roman Catholic reli- 
Dat I can do nothing that will implj the slightest 
an of the opinions I have heard expressed this 

ig. For yiinr own sakea ' but here a yell arose 

pich for erer dvowned hia voice. 

*• A spy, a spy ! " wns tbe gencrnl exclamation. ' Wo are 
nyetl i Seize him ! Knock him over ! ' and the whole 
Beting seemed to have turned their backs on tbe platform 
d to be advancing on the nnfortnnate Lothair, Two of 
B leaders on the platform at the same time leapt down 
a it, to dircol as it were thii enraged populace. 
^Bat at tills moment a man who had been in tho lower 
t of the hall, in the vicinity of Lothair and standing 
me, pushed forward, and by bis gestares and general 
D arrested somewliat tlie crowd, so that tbe two leaders 
I lenpt fi-om the platform and bustled throagh the 
D contact with him. 
B BtniDger was evidently not of the class or country 
If tho rest oasembled. He had a military appearance, ami 
nke with a foreign accent when be said, ' Tliia is no spy. 
wp your people off.' 

' And who arc you ? ' enquired the leader lliua addressed. 
" One accustomed to be obeyed,' said the stranger. 
' Yon may be a spy yourself,' said the leader. 
•I wDlnotnndertftketoaay that there are no spies in this 
tooKD,' said tho stronger, 'but this person is not one, and 



Ii6 



LOTH AIR. 



aoybodj who toncheB tLis persou trill touch this person nt 
hia pern. Stand off, men I ' And they stood off. The 
ware retreated baokvard, leaving the two leaders in (rout. 
A couple of hundred men, a moment hefore appareotlj full 
of fiirioos passion and ivadj to take refuge in the violence 
of fear, were cowed by a aingle human being. 

' Why, you are not afraid of one man F ' eaid the leaders, 
ashamed of their following. ' Whatever betidee, no one 
noknown simll leave this room, or it will be Bow Street 
tomorrow morning,' 

'Nevertheless,' said the stranger, 'two unknown men 
will loave this room, and with general assent. If anyone 
tonchcB this person or myself I will shoot him dead,' and 
he drew out his revolver ; * and as for the rest, look at that,' 
he added, giving a paper to the leEtdor of the Fenian Ix>dge, 
'and then give it me hack again.' 

The leader of the Feotan Lodge glanced at the paper ) 
be grow pale, then scarlet, folded the paper with great care 
and returned it reverentially to the stranger, then looking 
round to the asfleinbly and waving his hand he said, ' All 
right, the gentlemen are to go.' 

■ V\'cll, yoQ have got out of a scrape, young sir,' said the 
stranger to Lothair when they had escaped from the ball. 

' And how can I eipress my gratitude to yon F ' Lothair 
replied. 

'Foh!' said the stranger, 'n mere alTair of cornmon 
do^. But what surprises me is how you got your paas 

Xiothair told him all. 

' They manage their affairs in general wonderfully close,' 
said the stranger, ' bat I have no opinion of tliem. I have 
jnat returned &om Ireland, where I thongbt I woold go 
and see what they really are ufl«r. No real business 
them. Their tre&son is a fairy tale, and their sedition n 
d talking in its sk-op.' 



I 

3 



' miked together dbont half » mile, and then the 
■rsBid, 'At the end of this we bIifiI] get into the Citj 
1, and the land again of omnibns nnd public convey- 
ind I shall wish yon good night.' 
' But it 13 dbtresaing to me U> part thna,' said Lotbair. 
rPrny let me call and pay my rcupects to my benefactor,' 

"3 claim to any anch title,' said the stranger; 'I am 

Mways glad to be of use. I will not trouble yoa to call on 

I, for, frankly, I have no wish to increase the ciroie of 

J acqn&inUDce. So, good eight; and as yon seem to be 

|nd of a little life, lake my advice and never go about 



CHAPTER xxAair. 



I woi 
ftnd 



B Fenian ndrcntnre Rimished the distraction which 
ur required. It broke that absorbing epell of senti- 
which is the delicious but enervating jirivilege of the 
iful beart ; yet when Lothnir woke in the morning 
his well-earned slnnibpr^, the charm returned, and bo 
fell at once into a reverie of Belmont, and a speculation 
wboa be might really pay his first visit there. Not te-day, 
that was clearly out of the question. They had separated 
only yesterday, and yet it seemed an age, and the adven- 
tnre of another world. There are moods of feeUng which 
defy alike time and space. 

But on the morrow, Friday, ho might ventnre to go. 

I then would to-morrow ever come? It seemed impos- 

How were the intervening hours to pass P The 

world, however, was not bo void of resoarces aa himself, 

ftnd had already appropriated his wliolo day. And, firet, 

Uonsignore Catesby came to breakfast with him, talking of 

irything that was agreeable or interesting, but in reality 

semiring hia presence at the impending ccclesiasticAl 



ii8 LOTH AIR. 



ceremony of high import, where his goiirdian was to 
officiate, and where the foundation was to be laid of the 
reconciliation of all Churches in the bosom of the true one. 
Then in the aflemoon Lothair had been long engaged to a 
match of pigeon-shooting, in which pastime Bertram ex- 
celled. It seemed there was to be a most exciting sweep- 
stakes to-day, in which the flower of England were to 
compete ; Lothair among them, and for the first time. 

This great exploit of arms was to be accomplished at the 
Castle in the Air, a fantastic villa near the banks of the 
Thames, belonging to the Duke of Brecon. His Grace had 
been offended by the conduct or the comments of the outer 
world, which in his pastime had thwarted or displeased him 
in the free life of Battcrsea. The Duke of Brecon was a 
gentleman easily offended, but not one of those who ever 
confined their sense of injury to mere words. He prided 
himself on * putting down * any individual or body of men 
who chose to come into collision with him. And so in the 
present instance he formed a club of pigeon-shooters, and 
lent them his villa for their rendezvous and enjoyment 
The society was exquisite, exclusive, and greatly sought 
after. And the fine ladies, tempted of course by the beauty 
of the scene, honoured and inspired the competing con- 
federates by their presence. 

The Castle in the Air was a colossal thatched cottage, 
built by a favourite of King George the Fourth. It was 
full of mandarins and pagodas and green dragons, and 
papered with birds of many colours and with vast tails. 
The gardens were pretty, and the grounds park-like, with 
some noble cedars and some huge walnut trees. 

The Duke of Brecon was rather below the middle size, 
but he had a singularly athletic frame not devoid of sym- 
metry. His head was well placed on his broad shoulders, 
and his mien, was commanding. He was narrow-minded 
and prejodiced, but acute, and endowed with an unbending 



I 



LOTHAIR. 119 

wiU, Be was an eminent BportHHiBii, and brave even to 
bmbilitj. Uia boaat was that be bad succeeded in Bverj. 
tiling he had attempfed, and be would not admit tbo 
poaaibilitj- of future failure. Though still a very yonng 
man he hnd won the Derby, training Lis own horse; and 
lie saccessfully managed a tine Bind in defiance of the ring, 
whom it was one of the secret objects of his life to extirpate. 
Though his manner to men wna peremptory, cold, aiiJ 
hard, he might be descrilied aa popular, for there existed a 
superstitious belief in his judgment, and it was known that 
rhen he had been cooBultcd he hsd 
ice. It could not be said that he wb» 
bolOTeil, but he waa feared and highly considered. Para- 
■itea were necessary to him, though he despised them. 

The Duke of Brecon was an avowed admirer of Lady 
Corisande, and was intimate with her family. The Duchess 
S:m1 him much, and waa often seen at ball or assembly on 

jbia arm. He hati such exceHcnt principles, she eaid ; wai 
Btmigh I forward, so tree and firm. It waa whispersd 
Lt oven Lady Corisande had remarked that the Doke ol 

'Brecon was the only young man of the time who had 
'character.' The truth is the Duke, though al>dolute and 
hard to meu, conld be son> and deferential to women, and 
Eucb an exception to a general dispunition has a charm. 
It waa said also tlisl be had, when requisite, a bewitching 

If there were any thing or any pereon in the world that 
LSl Aldeponde bat«d more than another it was the Duke o( 
Why St. Aldegonde hated him waa not very 
[eloar, for they had never crossed each other, nor were the 
ma for his detostation, which be occasiontdly gave, 
mtirely SBtisfactory : Bomolimos it was because the DuJie 
rove piebalds ; sonietimcs ht-cause ho had a largo sura in 
Bie Funds, which St. Aldegonde thought disgraceful for a 
hike ; eomotimcs because he wore a particular hat, though. 



I20 LOTH AIR. 



wiih reapeot to this last allegation, it does not follow ibat 
8t. Aldegonde was justitied in his criticism, for in soch 
matters St. Aldegonde was himself very deficient, and had 
once strolled up St. Jameses Street with his dishevelled 
locks crowned with a wide-awake. Whatever might be the 
cause, St. Aldegonde generally wound up, ' I tell you what, 
Bertha, if Corisande marries that fellow I have made up 
my mind to go to the Indian Ocean. It is a country I 
never have seen, and Pinto tells me you cannot do it well 
under five years.' 

' I hope you will take me, Granville, with you,' said Lady 
St. Aldegonde, 'because it is highly probable Corisande 
will marry the Duke ; mamma^ you know, likes him so 
much.' 

*Why cannot Corisande marry Carisbrooke,* said St. 
Aldegonde, pouting; ' he is a really good fellow, much 
I l>etter looking, and so far as land is concerned, which afler 

I all is the only thing, has as large an estate as the Duke.' 

j * Well, these things depend a little upon taste,' said Lady 

I St. Aldegonde. 

* No, no,* said St. Aldegonde ; * Corisande must marry 
Carisbi-ooke. Your father would not like my going to the 
Indian Archipelago and not returning for five years, per- 
haps never returning. Why should Corisande break up 
' our society ? Why are people so selfish ? I never could 

' go to Brentham again if the Duke of Brecon is always to 

be there, giving his opinion, and being what your mother 
i cjills " straightforward." I hate a straightforward fellow. 

I As Pinto says, if every man were straightforward in his 

I opinions, there would be no conversation. The fun of talk 

' is to find out what a man really thinks, and then contrast 

' it with the enormous lies he has been telling all dinner, 

and, perhaps, all his life.' 

It was a favourable day for the Castle in the Air ; 
enough but not too much sun, and a ^nfJe breeze. Some 




LOTHAIR. lai 

prtMj feet, not nloae, 'were saunterbg in tlio gardens, 

aomo pretty lips lingered in the rcoma sipping tea; bnt 

the mass of the fair visitors, marvellously attired, wore 

tissemblud at the scene of aetion, seated on chairs and in 

f^roapa, nhitili assumed soracthiiig of the form of an aoi- 

Lphithititre. There were majiy goatleraen in attendance on 

litliem, or independent apoctatora of the sport. The field 

Kwas large, not less than forty competitors, and comprising 

iny of the best shots in England, The siriiggle, there- 

l,CDro, was long and ably maintained; but, as the end 

pSpproachi'tl, it was evident that the contest would be 

^between Bortrum, Lothiiir, and the Duke of Breuon. 

Irfuiy St. AJdegondo and Lady Hoiitairy were there and 
PiUiciir nawarried siiiter. The man-ied sisters were highly 
n favour of their brother, but Lady Corlaande said 
iiotliing. At last Bertram mifiaed a bird, or rather his 
bird, which he had hit, escaped, and fell beyoiid the en- 
cloeore. Lothair waa more saccessfu), and it seemed thai 
it might be a tie between him and the Duke. His Or&ce, 
when called, advanced with confident composure, and 
apparently killed both bis birds, when, at this moment, a 
(dug mshed forward and chased one of tlie mortally struck 
■ pigeons. The blue-rock, whicli was content to die by the 
tad of a Duke, would not dci^ to be worried by a dog, 
. it fruiitically moved its espiriug wings, scaled the 
K paling, and died. So Lothiiir won the pri^e. 

' Well,' said Lady Montairy to LotLair, ' as Bertram waa 
not to vrin I am gind it was you.' 

'And you will not coogratnlale me p ' said Lothair tc 
I^dy Corisaudc. 

She ratliur shook her head. 'A tournament of doves," 
she said. ' I would rstbor see you all in the lists of 
Ashby.' 

Lfithair hnd to dine this day with one of the vanquished, 
tliia was Mr. Branceiicth, cdfihratj-d for his dinners, still 



122 LOTH AIR. 



I 



I 



nioro for his guests. Mr. Brancepetb was a graye yoam; 
man. It was supposed that he was always meditating 
over the arrangement of his menus, or the skilful means 
hj which he could assemble together the right persons to 
partake of them. Mr. Brancepeth had attained the highest 
celebrity in his peculiar career. To dine with Mr. Brance- 
peth was a social incident that was mentioned. Royalty 
had consecrated his banquets, and a youth of note was 
scarcely a graduate of society who had not been his goest. 
There was one person however who, in this respect, 
had not taken his degree, and, as always happens under 
riuch circumstances, he was the individual on whom 
Mr. Brancepeth was most desirous to confer it; and this 
was St. Aldegonde. In vain Mr. Brancepeth had approached 
him with vast cards of invitation to hecatombs, and with 
insinuating little notes to dinners sans fa^on ; proposals 
which the presence of princes might almost construe into 
a command, or the presence of some one even more attrac- 
tive than princes must invest with irresistible charm. It 
was all in vain. *Not that I dislike Brancepeth,* said 
St. Aldegonde ; * I rather like him : I like a man who can 
do only one thing, but does that well. But then I hate 
dinners.* 

But the determined and the persevering need never 
despair of gaining their object in this world. And this 
very day, riding home from the Caatle in the Air, Mr. 
Brancepeth overtook St. Aldegonde, who was lounging 
about on a rough Scandinavian cob, as dishevelled as him- 
self, listless and groomless. After riding together for 
twenty minutes, St. Aldegonde informed Mr. Brancepeth, 
as was his general custom with his companions, that he 
was bored to very extinction, and that he did not know 
what ho should do with himself for the rest of the day. 
* If I could only get Pinto to go with me, I think I would 
run down to the Star and Grarter or perhaps to Hampton 
Court.* 



I 



LOTHAIR. izi 

' Tot wiU rot bo able to get Pinto to-day,' snid Mr 
Bnwoepelh, ' for he dines with mo.' 

■ Wliat an nnluct7 fellow I am I ' eiclaimcd St. Aldo- 
■^nile, entirely to him^ilf, 'I had made up my mind ^a 
dine with Pinto to-day.' 

'And why should you cot? Why not meet Pinto at 

' Well, that is not in my way,' said St. AldegonJe, bnt 
Dot in a decided tone. ' Yon know 1 do not like Htrangtra, 
nnd crowds of wine-glaases, and wbat is called all the 
ilcJicaciee of the season.' 

* YoD nil! meet no one tLat yon do not know and like. It 
i» a little dinner I made for ' and be mentioned Lotbair. 

' I like liothair," eaid St. Aldegonde, dreamily. ' He is a 
nice boy.' 

' Well, you will have him and Pinto to yourself.' 

Th« large fish languidly rose and ewalloweJ the biiit, 
and the exulting Jlr. Bi-ano-'peth canlei'cd off to Hill 
Street to give the necessarj- instruetiona. 

Mr. Plato waa one of the marvels of English society ; 
llie most songht after of all it« member!*, though do one 
voold tell you exactly why. He was a little oily Portu- 
govae, middle- Aged, corpulent, and somewhat bald, with 
dnrk oyos of sympathy, not nnmiied with humour. No 
one knew who he was, and in a country the most scmti- 
tiisiog an to jierHonal details, no one en(|aired or cared to 
know, A quar'ter of a century ago an English noble had 
CHdght him in his travels, and brought him ynuiig to 
Bnglaud, where ho had always reninim'd. From the 
(brouriU; of an individual lie had become the onii'lo of a 
rirde, and titun t^e idol of society. All ibin time his 
nianoer remained unt^S^angud. Ho was never at U[iy time 
either humble or pretentious Instead of being a {laraeite, 
everybody flattered bitn ; and instead of being a lianger-on 
of Kciety, society hong on Pmto. 



124 LOTH AIR. 



It mast hare been the oombmation of manj pleaaiiig 
qualities, ratiier than the possession of anj oommandin^ 
one, that created his influence. He certainly was not a 
wit, yet he was always gay, and always said things dial 
made other people merry. His conversation was sparkling, 
interesting, and fluent, yet it was observed he never gave 
an opinion on any subject and never told an anecdote. 
Indeed, be would sometimes remark, when a man fell into 
his anecdotage it was a sign for him to retire firom the 
world. And yet Pinto rarely opened his mouth without 
everybody being stricken with mirth. He had the art of 
viewing common things in a fanciful light, and the rare 
gift of raillery which flattered the self-love of those whom 
it seemed sportively not to spare. Sometimes those who 
had passed a fascinating evening with Pinto would try to 
remember on the morrow what he had said, and could recall 
nothing. He was not an intellectual Croesus, but his 
pockets were full of sixpences. 

One of the ingredients of his social spell was no doubt 
his manner, which was tranquil even when he was droll. 
He never laughed except with his eyes, and delivered 
himself of his most eccentric fancies in an unctuous style. 
He had a rare gift of mimicry, which he used with extreme 
reserve, and therefore was proportionately effective when 
displayed. Add to all this, a sweet voice, a soft hand, and 
a disposition both soft and sweet, like his own Azores. It 
was understood that Pinto was easy in his circumstances, 
though no one knew where these circumstances were. 
His equipage was worthy of his position, and in his little 
house in May Fair he sometimes gave a dinner to a flne 
lady, who was as proud of the event as the Queen of Sheba 
of her visit to Solomon the Gh^at. 

When St. Aldegonde arrived in Hill Street, and slouched 
into the saloon with as uncouth and graceless a general 
mien as a handsome and naturally graoefiil man could 



LOTHAIR. 



I2S 



I 

i 



contriTS to preseot, his keen tboagli listless glanoe at onco 
reveftled to him that lie was, as be descrilied it at dinner 
to Hngo Bohnn, in a social jangle, in wliich there wu a 
^reat beni of auimuls tliat he particularly disliked, namel}-, 
what he eutitled ' swells.' The scowl on hia distressed 
coontenantv at first intimated a retreat ; but after a survey, 
coort^oos to hia host and epeaking kindly to Lothair as he 
pMsed OD, he made a mah lo Mf. Pinto, and, curdially 
cmbnudng him, said, ' illnil we sit together.' 

Tbe diuDer was not a Failure, though an exccptiou to the 
polished ceremony of tbe nonnalBrancepeth banquet. Tlio 
hu§t headed his table, with the Duke of Brecon on hia 
right and Lothair on his left hand, and ' swells ' of calibre 
in their vicinity ; but St. Aldegonde sat far away, next to 
Mr. Pinto, and Hugo Boliun on the other side of that 
gentleman. Uugo BohuD loved swcUb, but be loved St. 
Aldegonde more. Tbe general conversation iu the neigh- 
bourhood of Jlr. Bi-ancepeth did not flag: they talked of 
the sport of the morning, and then, by association of ideas, 
of every other sport. And iJieu from tlic sports of England 
tbepy ranged to the sports of every other country. Thero 
were several there who had caught salmon in Norway and 
killed tigers in Bengal, and visited those countries only foi 
chat purpose. And then they talked of horses, and then 
they talked of women. 

Lotbair was rather sileut ; for in this society of anciouts, 
the yoongest of whom was perhaps not loss than five-and- 
twenty, and some with nearly a lustre added to that 
mature period, he felt the awkward modesty of a freshman. 
The Duke of Brecon tjilked much, but never at length. 
He dtfcidod everything, at least to his own satiafaction ; 
and if his opinion were challenged, remained nnsbaken, 
and did not cuucoul it. 

All this time a different scene was enacting at the other 

d of the table. St. Aldegonde, with his b:ick tuiiied to 



I 

i 



126 LOTH AIR. 



bis other neighbour, hung upon the accents of Mr. Pinto, 
and Hugo Bohun imitated St. Aldegonde. What Mr. 
Pinto said or was saying was quite inaudible, for he always 
spoke low, and in the present case he was invisible, like an 
ortolan smothered in vineleaves ; but every now and then 
St. Aldegonde broke into a frightful shout, and Hago 
Bohun tittered immensely. Then St. Aldegonde, throwing 
himself back in his chair, and talking to himself or the 
ceiling, would exclaim, * Best thing I ever heard,' while 
Hugo nodded sympathy with a beaming smile. 

The swells now and then paused in their conversation 
and glanced at the scene of disturbance. 

* They seem highly amused there,' said Mr. Brancepeth. 
• I wish they would pass it on.' 

* I think St. Aldegonde,' said the Duke of Brecon, * is 
the least conventional man of my acquaintance.' 

Notwithstanding this stem sneer, a practised general 
Uke Mr. Brancepeth felt he had won the day. All his 
guests would disperse and tell the world that they had 
dined with him and met St. Aldegonde, and to-morrow 
there would be a blazoned paragraph in the journals com- 
memorating the event, and written as if by a herald. 
What did a little disturb his hospitable mind was that 
St. Aldegonde literally tasted nothing. He did not care 
so much for his occasionally leaning on the table with 
both his elbows, but that he should pass by every dish was 
distressing. So ^Ir. Brancepeth whispered to his own 
valet, a fine gentleman, who stood by his master's chair 
and attended on no one else except, when requisite, his 
master's immediate neighbour, and desired him to suggest 
to St. Aldegonde whether the side table might not provide, 
under the difficulties, some sustenance. St. Aldegonde 
seemed quite gratified by the attention, and said he should 
like to have some cold meat. Now that was the only 
thing the side table, bounteous as was its disposition. 



I 



euuld not provide. All tbe joints of thn season wort' 
runed in vain, and pies and preparations of many climea. 
llut nothing nmild satifily St. Aldegonde bnt coid meut. 

' Well, now 1 shall begin my dinner,' he said to Pinto, 
■rlien he was »t lengtii aervcd. ' What surprises me moat 
ill yoa is yonr English. Thera is not ft mtiD who speaks 
each good English as yoa do.' 

'English is an expressive language,' said Mr. Pinto, 
'hut not difficnlt to nia)it«r. Its range is limited. It con- 
sists, ae far as I can observe, of four words : " nice," 
"jolly," "charming," and "bore; " and some grammariaiia 
■lid " fond." ' 

Wheu the guests rose and returned to the saloon, St. 
Aldegonde wna in high apirita, and talked to every one, 
evuu to the Dnke of Brecon, whom he considerately re- 
minded of his deiVut in the morning, adding that frOTo 
what he hud seen of hia Gr.iop's guns he had no opinion of 
thorn, and that he did not believe that breech-loaders 
snited pigeou-ehooting. 

Finally, when ho h*le ftirewell to his host, St. Aldegondo 
kasured him that jje ' never in his life madi< eo good a 
dinner, and that Pinto had never been so rich," 

Wlien thp party broke np, the majority of the guests 
wont, sooner or later, to a ball that was given this evenitig 
by Lady St. Jerome, Others, who never went to balls, 
looked forward with refined satisfaction to a night of 
nuhrokon tobacco. St, AJdegonde went to play whist at 
the hoiuo of a lady who lived out of town. ' I like tho 
drive home,* he said; 'the mortiiog air is bo refreshing 
when one has lost one's money.' 

A bull at St. Jurome House was a rare event, hot one 
highly appreciated. It was a grand mansion, with a rtuj 
Ktiite of slate apartments, including a genuine ball-room in 
the Venetian style, and lighted with chandeliers of rod: 
crystal Lady St. Jui-amo was a woman of tJiste and 




128 LOTHAIR. 

splendour and romance, who could do justice to the soene 
and occasion. Even Lord St. Jerome, quiet as he soemed, 
in these matters was popular with young men. It waB 
known that Lord St. Jerome gave at his hall suppers the 
same champagne that he gave at his dinners, and that was 
of the highest class : in short, a patriot. We talk with 
wondering execration cff the great poisoners of past ages, 
the Borgias, the inventor of aqua tofana, and the amiable 
Marchioness de Brinvilliers ; but Pinto was of opinion 
that there were more social poisoners about in the present 
daj than in the darkest and the most demoralised periods, 
and then none of them are punished ; which is so strange, 
he would add, as thej are all found out. 

Ladj St. Jerome received Lothair, as Pinto said, with 
extreme unction. She looked in his eyes, she retained his 
hand, she said that what she had heard had made her so 
happy. And then, when he was retiring, she beckoned 
him back and said she must have some tea, and, taking his 
arm, they walked away together. * I have so much to tell 
you,' she said, * and everything is so interesting. I think 
we are on the eve of great events. The Monsignore told 
me your heart was with us. It must bo. They are your 
own thoughts, your own wishes. We are realising your 
Dwn ideal. I think next Sunday will bo remembered as a 
great day in English history ; the commencement of a 
movement that may save everything. The Monsignore, i 
know, has told you all.* 

Not exactly ; the Oxford visit had deranged a little the 
plans of the Monsignore, but he had partially conmiunicated 
the vast scheme. It seems there was a new society to be 
instituted for the restoration of Christendom. The change 
of name from Christendom to Europe had proved a Bailure 
and a disastrous one. ' And what wonder ? ' said Lady 
St. Jerome. * Europe is not even a quarter of the globe, as 
the philosophers pretended it was. The**e is already a 



LOTH AIR. 



139 



dfth dirifiion, nud probably there will be miLny moro as 
Ihe phiiosopbera anoonnce it impoasiblo,' The Cardinal 
wna to inangumte tbo institution on Sunday next ftt the 
Jesuits' Church by one of his celebrated eemions. It was 
to be a fnnctioa of the highest class. Ail the faithful o£ 
conaidcratioa were to attend, but the attendance was not 
to bo limited to the t'uitliful. Eveiy sincere adherent of 
Church priucijilea who was iti a state of prayer and prepa- 
rutiou was solicitdd to be present and join in the holy and 
cOBLiuon work of restoring to the Divine Master his king- 
dom a|)oii earth with ita rightful nanae. 

It was a brilliant ball. All the ' nice * people in LondoD 
were there. All the yonng men who now will never go to 
halls were present. This was from respect tn the high 
rluuactcr of L«rd St. Jerome. Clare Arundel looked 
divine, dressed in a wondrons white robe garlandud with 
violets, just arrived troia Paris, a present fi-om her god- 
mother the Duchess of Lorrain-ScbnleDbonrg. On her 
lirnd a riolet wreath, deep and radiant as her eyes, and 
which admirably contrasted with her dark goldeu brown 
luiir. 

Iioth^vir danced with her and never admired her more. 
Ilcr mntiner towards him was changed. It. was attractive, 
Dvcn olluritig. She smiled on him, she addressed him in 
tones of sympathy, even of tenderness. She seemed in- 
U-rostcd in all he was doing, she flattered him by a mode 
which i« said to be irresistible to a man, by talking of 
himself. When the dance had finished he oU'ered to attend 
her to the tea-room. She accepted the invitation even 
with cordiality. 

* I think I must have some tea,' she said, ' and I like to 
(fii with my kinsman.' 

Jnit before snppcr was annonneed, Lady St. Jerome 
mill Lotbair, to bis surprise, that he was to attend Misi 
Amndel to the |;re&t ceremony. ' It is Clare's ball,' G&iij 




I30 LOTHAIR. 

Lady St. Jerome, * given in her honour, and jon are to 
take care of her.* 

*I am more than honoured,' said Lothair. *Bat does 
]Mi8S Arundel wish it ? for, to tell yon the truth, I thought 
I had rather abused her indulgence this evening.' 

* Of course she wishes it,' said Ladj St. Jerome. * Who 
should lead her out on such an occasion, her own ball, than 
the nearest and dearest relation she has in the world ex- 
cept ourselves ? ' 

Lothair made no reply to this unanswerable logic, but 
was as surprised as he was gratified. He recalled the 
hour when the kinship was at the best but coldly recog- 
liised, the inscrutable haughtiness, even distrust, with 
which Miss Arundel listened to the exposition of his views 
and feelings, and the contrast which her past mood pre- 
sented to her present brilliant sympathy and cordial 
greeting. But he yielded to the magic of the flowing 
hour. Miss Arundel Keemed indeed quite a changed being 
to-night, full of vivacity, fancy, feeling, almost fun. She 
was witty and humorous and joyous and fascinating. As 
he fed her with cates as delicate as her lips, and manu- 
factured for her dainty beverages which would not outrage 
their purity, Lothair at last could hot refrain from inti- 
mating his sense of her unusual but charming joyousness. 

* No,* she said, turning round with animation, * my 
natural disposition, always repressed because I have felt 
overwhelmed by the desolation of the world. But now I 
have hope* I have more than hope, I have joy. I feel 
sure this idea of the restoration of Christendom comes &om 
Heaven. It has restored me to myself, and has given 
me a sense of happiness in this life which I never could 
contemplate. But what is the climax of my joy is, that 
you, after all my own blood, and one in whose career I 
have ever felt the deepest interest, should be ordained to 
lay, as it were, the first stone of this temple of divine love.' 



It w»a break of day when Lotliair jumped into his 
ragh&in. ' Thank baaTens,' he eiolaimed, ' it ia at hat 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

[ERR i» BometUing very pleasant in a summer Bnbnrbaii 

le valley of the Thames. Lomlon transforms 

wlf into bustling Knightsbridge and airy Brorapton 

rightly and granefiiUy, lingers cheerfuily in the long, 

hiiscellaoeoQS, woll-wat«red Kind's Roarl, and only eajs 

rnwell nhon yon come (o an aboanditig river and a pic 

e bridge. The boats were bright upon the waiere 

|rh(v Lothair crossed it, and bis dark cliesnut barb, 

md of it« resplendent form, cnrvettcd wttli joy when 

I reached a green common, studded occasionally vrith 

a group of pines and well- bedecked with giirfo. After 

ihia ho povsitcd the pnblic rnad for a coople of miles niitil 

he observed on his left b;uid a gate on which was written 

l" privmte road," anil here be ati>ppcci. The gate was locked, 

when I.otb&ir asBnred the keeper that he was about to 

■it BeI.most, he was pemiitted to enter. 

I Bii euttred a green and winding taiie, fringed with tall 

IBS and dim witb fi'agrant shade, and after proceeding 

int hnlf a mite came lo a luitg low-built lodge with a 

intched and shelving roof and surrounded by a mstio 

olotinade covered witb boneysuckle. Passing through the 

at hand, he found himself in a road winding throngb 
mlly nndnlating banks of exquisite turf studded witb 

mre alirubs and occasionally rarer trees. Suddenly the 
oonGned scene ei|>auded : vide lawns spread out before 
bim, Bhadowed with the dark forma of many huge cedars 

1 biasing with flower-beds of every hue. The boose 
M also apparent, a stately mansion of hewn atone, witb 



132 LOTH AIR. 



wings and a portico of Cormtbian columns, and backed by 
deep woods. 

This was Belmont, built by a favourite Minister of State 
to whom a grateful and gracious sovereign had granted a 
slice of a royal park whereon to raise a palace and a garden 
and find occasionally Tusculan repose. 

The lady of the mansion was at home, and though 
Lothair was quite prepared for this his heart beat. The inner 
hall was of noble proportion, and there were ranged in it 
many Boman busts and some ancient slabs and altars of 
marble. These had been collected some century ago by 
the ]Minister; but what immediately struck the eye of 
Lothair were two statues by an American artist, and both 
of fame, the Sibyl and the Cleopatra. He had heard of 
these, but had never seen them, and could not refrain from 
lingering a moment to gaze upon their mystical and fas- 
cinating beauty. 

He proceeded through two spacious and lofty chambers, 
of which it was evident the furniture was new. It was 
luxurious and rich and full of taste, but there was no at- 
tempt to recall the past in the details: no cabinets and 
clocks of French kings or tables of French queens, no 
chairs of Venetian senators, no candelabra that had illu- 
mined Doges of Genoa, no ancient porcelain of rare 
schools and ivory carvings and choice enamels. The walls 
were hung with masterpieces of modem art, chiefly of the 
French school, Ingres and Delaroche and Schefier. 

The last saloon led into a room of smaller dimensions 
opening on the garden, and which Lothair at first thouglit 
must be a fernery it seemed so full of choice and expand- 
ing specimens of that beautiful and multiform plant; but 
when his eye had become a little accustomed to the scene 
and to the order of the groups, he perceived they were 
only the refreshing and profuse ornaments of a regularly 
furnished and inhabited apartment. There was a table 



LOTH AIR. 



133 



1 wili writing materials and books and somo mnaic 
r before the tnbla was so plitced fts if aome one bad 
■ntly qniiied it, a bcjok beinR open but turned upon 
Aith an ivory catter iiy its side. It would seem 
At Uie dweller in liie chninbor migbt not ho fitr distani, 
e servant invited Lotbair to be seated, and sayiug that 
I. Cntnpian must bo in the garden, proceeded to iofumi 
t mistress of the ornvai of a guest. 

9 room opened on a terrace adomod witb statnes and 

ige tre«s, and descetidiiig gently into a garden in tbi> 

style, in tbe centre of which was a marble fonntain ' 

|r lignrcs. The gronuda were not extensive, bnt they 

B only separated from the royal park by a wire fence, 

tcene seemed alike ri^b and ilUmitable. On 

t boundary was a summcrbonso in tiie shape of a classic 

of tliose pavilions uf pleasure which nobles 

; in the last oeiitury. 

As Lolliair beheld the scene with gratiiication, the spt- 

rant reappeared on the steps of the terrace aud invited 

liim to descend. Guiding him throagh the garden, tlie 

Taot retired as Lothair recognised Mrs. Campian ajt- 

; them. 

She gave her hand to Lothair and welcomed him 
dInJIy but with serenity. They mutually excbanged 
) that their retam to town had been agreeable. Lothair 
lid not refrain lk)m expresiiing how pleased he was with 
ktmont. 

[*I am glad yon approve of our hired homo,' said Theo- 

'I think we were fuHnnate in finding one that suits 

r t«at«e and habits. We luve pictures und statues and 

I and flowers, and yet we love our friends, and our 

S pooplo who live in cities-' 

* 1 think I saw two statues to-day of which I have otteu 

,' said Lotlintr. 
'The Sibyl and Cleopnim? Ves. Colonel Campian ia 



"34 



LOT HAIR. 



rather prond of poBacsRitig them. He colleots only modeni 
art, for wLii-h I believe there is & great furore, though 
some of OUT fricnda think it is yet in its cradle.' 

' 1 am vei-y sorry to say,' said Lotbair, ' thiil I know veiy 
Uttle about art, or iiidecd anything else, but I admire wimt i 
k beautiful. I know eometliiug about architecture, at 
least church architecture.' 

* Well, rehgioD haji produced aooe of oar finest builil- 
ingB,' said Theodora ; * there is no question of that ; and as 
loug as they are adapted to what takes place in them they 
are admirabb. The fault I tiud in modem churches in this 
country is, that tlier" is little relation between the cere- 
moniea and the structure. Nobody seems now cousciuua 
that every true architectural form baa a purpose. But I 
thick the climax of confused ideas b capped when dissent- 
ing chupele are built like cathedrals.' 

'Ah! to build a cathedral,' exclaimed Lothair, 'that is 
n great enterprise. 1 wish I might show yon some day 
some drawings I have of a projected cathodml.* 

' A projected cathedral ! ' said Theodora. ' Well, I most 
nonfoBs to you I never could comprehend the idea of a 
Protestajit cathedral.' 

' Bnt I arn nut tjuit« sure,' said Lothnir blnahing and 
agitated, ' that it will be a Protestajit cathedral. 1 have 
not made up my mind about that.' 

Theodora glanced at him, nnohserved, with her won. 
derfiil grey eyes ; a sort of supeniatnra! light seemed to 
shoot from beneath their long dark losbea and read his 
inmost nature. Tliey were all this time returning, as she 
had BDggCHied, to the houiie. liather suddenly she said, 
' By the bye, as yon are so fond of art, 1 onght to have 
asked you whether you would like to see a work by the 
sculptor of Cleopatra which arrived when we nere at 
Oxford. We have placed it on a pedestal in the temple. 
lb b the Uenius of Freedom. I may say I wa» assist- 



mg a.1 lU iimngiir&tiou wliou j'our name v/ae fumouuood 

iLutli&ir caaglit at tlii§ proposal, and tbe; tnraed and 
icliod the U'aiple. Some workmen were leaving the 

wdiiig tL9 tiiej entered, and one or two lingered. 

Upon a pedeatnl of porphyry rose the statue of a female 
in marble. Though veiled with drapery which might hava 
Iwiiome the Goddess of Modoi^Iy, admirable ui-t juTmittcd 
liio contour of the perfect form to be ti'acod. The feet 
wore without, eaudola, and the uudulating breadth of one 
shoulder, where the drnjiery was festooned, remained nii- 
coverud. Otie expected with such a shape Bome divine 
visf^re. That was not wanting ; bnt hamanity was asHerted 
in the transcendent brow, wliieh beamed with sablinie 
thought aud profound enthusiasm. 

Some would have sighed that su{;h beings could only be 
pictured in a poet's nr an artist's dream, but Lotliair felt 
that what he beheld with rapture was no idtal crea- 
, and that he was in the presence of the inspiring 



* It is too like !' he murnmrcd. 

'It is the most Huooeaaful recnrrenceto the true principlne 
of art in modem sualptnre,' Boid a gentleman on his right 

This person was a yooti^ niau, though more than tea 
yeura older than Lothair. Hia appearance was Btriking, 
Above the middle bcighti, his furni, athletic though lithe 
d BynunotHual, naa crowned by a countciiance aquilinu 
t deticnie, and from many clrcamstancen of a remarkabla 
The lustre of his complexion, the tire of his eye, 
1 his cbeanut Imir in profose curU, contrihnted mui'h 
a daezling eD'ecl, A thick but smiill mouatache did 
( conceal his carved lip or the acoi-nful pride of bis dis- 
■ded noHtril, and bis beard, clase but tint Ion;;, did not 
tl tho siugnliir buauty of Ids month. It was an arrogant 



136 LOTHAIR. 



Ekce, dttring aud Tivacious, jot weighted with an expres- 
sion of deep and haaglitj thought. 

The costume of this gentleman was rich and picturesque 
Such extravagance of form and colour is sometimes en- 
countered in the adventurous toilette of a country house, 
but rarely experienced in what might still be looked upon 
as a morning visit in the metropolis. 

' You know Mr. Phoabus ? ' asked a low clear voioe, 
and turning round Lothair was presented to a person so 
fiunous that even Lothair had heard of him. 

Mr. Phoebus was the most successful, not to say the 
most eminent, painter of the age. He was the descendant 
of a noble family of Gasoony that had emigrated to England 
from France in the reign of Louis XIV. Unquestionably 
they had mixed their blood frequently during the interval 
and the vicissitudes of their various life; but in Graston 
PhoBbus nature, as is sometimes her wont, had chosen to 
reproduce exactly the original type. He was the (Gascon 
noble of the sixteenth century, with all his brilliancy, 
bravery, and boastfulness, equally vain, arrogant, and 
eccentric, accomplished in all the daring or the graceful 
pursuits of man, yet nursed in the philosophy of our 
times. 

* It is presumption in my talking about such things, 
said Lothair ; * but might I venture to ask what you maj 
consider the true principles of art ? ' 

' Abtan principles,' said Mr. Phoabus ; ' not merely the 
study of nature, but of beautiful nature ; the art of design 
in a country inhabited by a firstrate race, and where the 
laws, the manners, the customs, are calculated to maintain 
the health and beauty of a firstrate race. In a greater or 
less degree, these conditions obtained from the age of 
Pericles to the age of Hadrian in pure Aryan commu- 
nities, but Semitism beg^ then to prevail, and ultimately 
triumphed. Semitism has destroyed art; it taught mnc^ 



to despise his own body imd tlia etwence of art U to 
banonr the bamao frame.' 

' I am a&aitl I ongbt not to talk about sncli tilings,' saiit 
Lothair ; ' but il' by Semitism jou mean religion, sni-ely the 
:i painters inspired hy Semitism did something.' 
* Great tfainga,' said Mr. Pho^baa ; ' some of tbe greateat. 
nitism gave them subjects, but tlie Renaissance gave 
a Aryan art, iind it gnve thnt art to a purely Aryan tiice. 
jut Sumitism rallied in the shape of the Reformation, and 
L all away. When Leo the Tenth was Pope, popery 
■ pagan ; popory ia now CJiristian and art in extinct.' 
1*1 Cfumot enter into sueli controversies,' said Lothair. 
rrery day I feel, more and more, I am extremely igno- 
Bt.' 

' Do not regret it," said llr, Phttbus. ' What yon call 
ignorance is your eti-ength. By ignorance you mean a 
uit of knowledge of books. Booka are lata! ; they are 
I onrae of the faninan race. Kine-tentha of existing 
a are nonsenae, and the clever books arc tbe refutation 
R that nonsense. The gn>atest misfortune that ever befi'U 
the iDTention of printing. Printing baa de- 
nyed edacation. Art is a great tlmig, and Science if; 
•at thing -y but all that art and science can reveal can 
t tanght by man and by his attributes : his voice, his 
Bid, his eye. The essence of education is the education 
! the body. Beauty and health are the chief sonrcea 
E happiness. Men should live in the air ; their exer- 
1 ahould be regnlar, varied, scientifin. To render bis 
fdy strong and supple is the first duty of man. He 
kOoli] devclopc and cumpletuly master the whole muscular 
a. What I admire in the order to which you belong 
t thi-y do live in tbe air, that they excel in athletic 
; that they can only apeak one language ; and that 
^jr never read. Thi.i is not a complete education, but it 
ttbe biifhest education since the Greek.' 



138 



LOTH AIR. 



* What jon say 1 feel encouraging,* said Loihair, reprea- 
Bing a smile, * for I myself live very much in the air, and 
am fond of all sports ; but I confess I am oflen ashamed of 
being so poor a linguist, and was seriously thinking that I 
ought to read.' 

*No doubt every man should combine an intellectual 
with a physical training,' replied Mr. Phoebus ; * but the 
popular conception of the means is radically wrong. Youth 
should attend lectures on art and science by the most 
illustrious professors, and should converse together after- 
wards on what they have heard. They should learn to 
talk ; it is a rare accomplishment, and extremely healthy. 
They should have music always at their meals. The 
theatre, entirely remodelled and reformed, and under a 
minister of state, should be an important element of educa- 
tion. I should not object to the recitation of lyric poetry. 
That is enough. I would not have a book in the house, or 
even see a newspaper.* 

* These are Aryan principles ? ' said Lothair. 

* They are,* said Mr. Phoobus ; * and of such principles, 1 
believe, a great revival is at hand. We shall both live to 
see another Renaissance * 

' And our artist here,' said Lothair, pointing to the 
statue, * you are of opinion that he is assertmg these 
principles ? * 

* Yes ; because he has produced the Aryan form by 
studying the Aryan form. Phidias never had a finer 
model, and he has not been unequal to it 

* I fancied,* said Lothair in a lower and enquiring tone, 
though Mrs. Campian had some time before glided out of 
the pavilion and was giving directions to the workmen, 
' I fancied I had heard that Mrs. Campian was a Roman. * 

* The Romans were Greeks,* said Mr. Phoebus, * and in 
this instance the Phidian type came out It has not been 
thrown away. I believe Theodom has inspired as many 



LOTH AIR. 



"39 



painters and BCnlptoi^ as an; Aryan goddess. I look ujjon 
her as sacb, for 1 know notliing more divine.' 

' I four tile Phidian type ifl very rare,' eaJd Lothair. 

* In nature and in art there muttt always be surpassing 
inetancea,' said Mr. I'hcohns. ' It is a law, and a wise one ; 
but, depend upon ii, bo strong and perfect a type aa tUo 
origmaJ Arywi must be yet abundant among tlie miliioii§, 
and way be developed. But lor tliis juu want gi-oit 
ohangos in yonr laws. It is the first duty of a state to 
»tU)nd to tbe frame and health of tbe subject. The Spar- 
tans understood this. They permitted no marriage the 
probable consequences of which might be a feeble progeny; 
they even took measures to secure a vigorona one. The 
ttoinanB doomed tbe deformed to immediate destrnctiou. 
The union of the races concerns llie welfare of the com- 
monwealth much too nearly to bo eutmsted to individuiil 
nrrftngoment. Tlie fate of a nation will ultimatoly depend 
t'poo the strength and health of the pogitilaiiou. Both 
France and England should look to this ; tliey Uave cause. 
Ad for our mighty engines of war in the hands of a puny 
moe, it will be the old story of tlie lower empire and the 
Greek tire. Laws should bo passed to eecore all this, and 
«ome diiy tbey will be. But nothing can be done until tho 



Aryftu nuws i 



'e exirieatod fro: 



CHAPTER XSX. 



) Aryftu mc 

^HPiDTHAIR returned to town in a not ajtogethor Ratistnctory 

^"Irtate of mind. He was nut serene or content. On the 

<xintrary, be was rather agitated and perplexed. He could 

not say he regretted bis visit. He had seen bcr, and be 

_ had seenber lo great advantaffe. He Imd aeon mtich too 

a pIcAi^hig, aud had beard ulso many things that, if 



^^ had seen 
^Ubat waa 



HO LOTHATR. 



not pleejEong, were certainly full of interest. And yeti 
when he cantered back over the common, the world some- 
how did not seem to him so bright and exhilarating as in 
the ambling mom. Was it because she was not alone? 
And jet why should he expect she should be alone P She 
had many friends, and she was as accessible to them as to 
himself. And yet a conversation with her, as in the gardens 
of Blenheim, would have been delightful, and he had rather 
counted on it. Nevertheless, it was a great thing to know 
men like Mr. Phoebus, and hear their views on the nature 
of things. Lothair was very young, and was more thought- 
ful than studious. His education hitherto had been, ac- 
cording to Mr. Phoebus, on the right principle, and chiefly 
in the open air; but he was intelligent and susceptible, 
and in the atmosphere of Oxford, now stirred with many 
thoughts, he had imbibed some particles of knowledges 
respecting the primaeval races which had permitted him to 
follow the conversation of Mr. Phoebus not absolutely in a 
state of hopeless perplexity. He determined to confer with 
Father Coleman on the Aryan race and the genius of 
Semitism. As he returned through the park, he observed 
the Duchess and Lady Corisande in their barouche, resting 
for a moment in the shade, with Lord Carisbrooke on one 
side aud the Duke of Brecon on the other. 

As he was dressing for dinner, constantly brooding on 
one thought, the cause of his feeling of disappointment 
occurred to him. He had hoped in this visit to have 
established some basis of intimacy, and to have ascertained 
his prospect and his means of occasionally seeing her. But 
he had done nothing of the kind. He could not well call 
again at Belmont under a week, but even then Mr. Phoebus 
or some one else might be there. The world seemed dark. 
He wished he had never gone to Oxford. However a man 
may plan his life he is the creature of circumstances. The 
unforeseen happens and apsets everything. We are mere 
puppets. 



LOTHAIR. 

Qe ant next tii aii agreeable TComoo at diimer, wlio gave 
him an interesting account of a new ainger sho had heard 
the uiglit before at the Opera; a fair Scandinavian, fresh 
BS a lily and sweet aa a nightingale. 

' I was resolved tn po and hear her,' fiaid the lady ; ' my 
BTster Feodore, at Piiria, Lad written to me bo much about 
bur. Do you know, I have never been to the Opera for an 
ago ! That alone waa quite a treat to me. I never go to 
ihc Opera, nor to the pby, nor to anytliin<^ else. Society 
hna become so large and so exacting, that I have fonnd out 
one never geta any amuBement.' 

' Do yon know, 1 never waa at the Opera," said Lothair. 

• 1 am not at all surjiriscd ; and when yon go (which I 
suppose yon will some duy), what will most strike yon is, 
that you will nut see a. single person yon ever saw in your 
life." 

■ Strange ! ' 

'TeSi it aliowa what a niafls of wealth and taste and 
refinement there is in this wonderfnl mcti'OpoUa of ours, 
HaiUs irrespective of tlie circles in which we move, and 
•uhioh we once thought entirely engrossed them.' 

Ailer the ladies had retired, Bertram, who dined at the 
same house, moved np to him ; ami Hugo Bohun came 
over and took the vacant seat on his other side. 

■ What have yon been doing with yourself P ' said Hago. 
' We have not seen you for a week." 

'I went down la Oxford almut some horses,' said 
Lot.hnir. 

' Fancy going down fo Oxford about some hor.ses in the 



^_ uid Mre 



heart of the seasim,' aaid Hugo, 
Its, and tiiat, as the " Scorpion" 
tti bo maiTied.' 

' To whom ? ■ said Lothair. 

the point. It i 
BJid tre want j'on to toll us.' 



'lb 



e yon e 



e Belling 



you are going 



a dark horse at prf«eiit, 



142 LOTH AIR 

* VVby do not you marry, Hngo ? ' said Bertram. 

'I respect the institatioii,' said Hugo, 'which iB ad- 
mitting something in these days; and I have always 
f.honght that every woman should marry, and no man.' 

' It makes a woman and it mars a man, you think P ' said 
Lothair. 

* But I do not exactly see how your view would work 
practically,* said Bertram. 

'Well, my view is a social problem,' said Hugo, 'and 
social problems are the fashion at present. It would be 
solved through the exceptions, which prove the principle. 
In the first place, there are your swells who cannot avoid 
the halter : you are booked when you are bom ; and then 
there are moderate men like myself^ who have their weak 
moments. I would not answer for myself if I could find 
an afiectioiiate family with good shooting and firstrate 
claret.' 

'There must be many families with such conditions,' 
said Lothair. 

Hugo shook his head. ' You try. Sometimes the wine 
is good and the shooting bad; sometimes the reverse; 
sometimes both are excellent, but then the tempers and the 
manners are equally detestable.' 

' I vote we three do something fo-niorrow,' said Bertram. 

' What shall it be ? ' said Hugo. 

' I vote we row down to Richmond at sunset and dine, 
and then drive our teams up by moonlight. What say you, 
Lothair ? ' 

' I cannot, I am engaged. I am engaged to go to the 
Opera.' 

' Fancy going to the Opera in this sweltering weather ' 
exclaimed Bertram. 

' He must be going to be married,' said Hngo. 

And yet on the following evening, though the weather 
was quite as sultry and he was not going to be married, to 



N 



LOTHArR. 

die Opera Lotliair went. While the agreeable lady the 
daj before was dilating at dinner on this once lamona 
entertainment, LotWir remembered that a certain persoii 
wi-nt there every Siiturday evening, and he resolved that 
lie shotild at least huve the satiBfaction of seeing her. 

It was altogether a new ecene for Lothair, and being 
mnch affected by niusic he fonod the general inflaencB bo 
fascinating that some little time elnpsed before be waa 
snffioiently muster of himself to recur to the principal 
pnqiose of his presence. His box was on the first tier, 
where he could observe very generally and yet himself be 
snflicieDlly screened. Aa an astronomer surveys the Btarry 
lieavens nntQ his searching sight reaches the de.sired planet, 
EO Lotltair's scmtinisiug vision wandered till his eye at 
length lighted on the wiahed-for orb, In the circle above 
his own, oppngito to him but neaix'r the stage, be recog- 
nised the Campians. She had a star upon her forehead, as 
when he firat met her some sii mouths ago; it seemed an age. 

Kow what should be do? Ho was quite nnleamed in 
the social habits of an opera-house. He was not awaro 
that he had the privilege of paying the lady a visit in her 
bo«, and had he been so, he was really so shy in little 
things that he never could have Eummoned resolution to 
open the door of his own box and request an attcndaitt to 
show him that of itrs. Campian. He had contrived to get 
to the Opera for the first time in bia life, and the effort 
seemed to have exhausted his social enterprise. So he re- 
niainod still, with his glass Gxed very constantly on Ura. 
Campiau, and occasionally giving himself np to the scene. 
The performance did not sustain the first impression. 
There were rival prima-doncaa, and they indulged in com- 
petitive BcrcnmB : the chorasea were coarBo. and th» 
oreheHtra mnch too noisy. But the audience were ab- 
sorbed or eiiihusiastic. We ma; bo a masiciil nation, but 
uor timte would seem to require somo refinement. 



144 LOTH AIR. 



There ^as a stir in Mrs. Gampian's box; a gentleman 
entered and seated himself. Lothair concluded he was an 
invited guest, and envied him. In about a quarter of an 
hour the gentleman bowed and retired, and another person 
came in, and one whom Lothair recognised as a young man 
who had been sitting during the first act in a stall beneath 
him. The system of paying visits at the Opera then flashed 
upon his intelligence, as some discovery in science upon a 
painful observer. Why should he not pay a visit too ? But 
how to do it ? At last he was bold enough to open the 
door of his own box and go forth, but he could And no 
attendant, and some persons passing his open door, and 
nearly appropriating his lodge, in a fit of that nervouH 
embarrassment which attends inexperience in little things, 
he secured his rights by returning baffled to his post. 

There had been a change in Mrs. Campian*s box in the 
interval. Colonel Campian had quitted it, and Mr. Phoebus 
occupied his place. Whether it were disappointment at 
his own failure or some other cause, Lothair felt annoyed. 
He was hot and cold by turns ; felt awkward and blun- 
dering ; fancied people were looking at him ; that in some 
inexplicable sense he was ridiculous ; wished he had never 
gone to the OpewL 

As time, and considerable time, elapsed, ho became even 
miserable. Mr. Phoebus never moved, and Mrs. Campian 
frequently conversed with him. More than one visitor had 
in the interval paid their respects to the lady, but Mr. 
Phoebus never moved. They did not stay, perhaps because 
Mr. Phoebus never moved. 

Lothair never liked that fellow from the first. Sympathy 
and antipathy share our being as day and darkness share 
our lives. Lothair had felt an antipathy for Mr. Phoebus 
the moment he saw him. He had arrived at Belmont 
yesterday before Lothair, and he had outstayed him. These 
might be Aryan principles, but they were not the principles 
of good breeding. 



LOTH AIR. 



u; 



r detemuned to go home and norcr to come to thc- 
;iLm. He opened the door of bis bos with firmness, 
& slamoied it with conrogo ; he had quite lost his shyness, 
• indeed read/ to ran a mnck with anyone who crossed 
The Elammiug of the door summoned a simdding 
idaut from a distant post, who with breathless demotion 
[uired whether Ixithair wanted anything. 
'•Yea, 1 want yon to show mo the way to Jlrs. Canijiian's 

f*TieF above, No. 22,' said the boskeepep. 

'*Ay, ay; bnt conduct me to it,* B»id Lothnir, and Le 

iented the man with an overpowering honomriom, 
'•Certainly, my Ijord,' said the attendant, 
'He knows me,' thoogbt Lothair; but it was not sa 
u the British nation is at once grat«fu! and enthnsiaatio, 
y always call yon ' my liord.' 

s progress to 'No. 22, tier above,' all his valoui 

ratud, ftiid when the boi-door waa opened he felt very 

loh like a couvict on the verge of execution ; he changed 

lour, his legs tottered, his heart beat, and he made hia 

bow with a confused vision. The serenily of Theodora 

•omewbat rcasanred him, and he seated liimself, and even 

ealoted Mr. Phoebtts. 

The conversation was vapid and conventional : romarka 
nhnnt the Opera and its performers ; even the heat of 1 he 
weather was mentioned, Lothair had conie, and be had 
itxDg to Bay. Jlrs. Campian seemed much intorestod 
ftthe porformanco ; bo, if ho had had anything to say, there 
I no opportunity of expressing it. She had not ap- 
to he so ecgrossod with the mnsie before his 
, In the meantime that Phcobus would not move; 
■quarter of an hour elapsed, and that Phcubus would not 
JVC Lothair could nut stand it any longer ; he rose and 
lowed. 

' Arc jou going ? ' said Theodora. ' Colntiel Campian wiU 



146 LOTH AIR. 



be hero in a moment ; he will be quite grieved not to see 

you.' 

Bat Lothair was inflexible. ' Perhaps,' she added, * we 

may see you to-morrow night ? ' 

^ Never/ said Lothair to himself, as he clenched his teeth ; 

^ my visit to Belmont was my first and my last. The dream 

is over.' 

He hurried to a club in which he had been recently 

initiated, and of which the chief purpose is to prove to 
I mankind that night to a wise man has its resources as well 

as gaudy day. Here striplings mature their minds in the 

mysteries of whist, and stimulate their intelligence by 
' playing at stakes wliich would make their seniors look pale ; 

here matches are made, and odds are settled, and the cares 
! or entorpiises of life are soothed or stimulated by fragrant 

I cheroots or beakers of Badminton. Here, in the society of 

the listless and freakish St. Aldcgonde, and Hugo Bohun, 
I and Bertram, and other congenial spirit's, Lothair consigned 

i to oblivion the rival churches of Christendom, the Aryan 

race, and the genius of Scmitism. 
I It was an hour past dawn when he strolled home. Lon- 

don is often beautiful in summer at that hour, the architeo- 
{ tnral lines clear and defined in the smokeless atmosphere, 

and ever and anon a fragrant gale from gardened balconies 
I wafted in the blue air. Nothing is stirring except wagons 

of strawberries and asparagus, and no one visible except a 

policeman or a Memlxsr of Parliament returning from a 

late division, where they have settled some great qua<«tion 
! that need never have been asked. Eve has its spell of 

calmness and consolation, but Dawn brings hope and joy. 
But not to Lothair. Toung, sanguine, and susceptible, 

he had, for a moment, yielded to tlie excitement of tlie 
I recent scene, but with his senses stilled by the morning air, 

I and free from the in fl nonce of Bertram's ready sympathy, 

j and Hugo Bohun*s gay comments on human life, and all 



LOTH AIR. 



H? 



I 

t 



tliD wild and arauBing caprice, and daring wilfiiltiosB, and 
gmiid afloclation ttmt dUtinguiiih and inxpiro n circle of 
patrician foat.h, there came over liim tbe conficiousnefls 
tliat to him something dark liad occnrrtil, flouietliing bitter 
and disappointing and L am ilia ting, and that tbe breaking 
mom would not bring to him a day eo bright and hopeE\U 
ta his former onoa. 

At first ho fc'll into profound slumber : it was the in- 
erilAblo rosnit of tho Dadminton and the lat« hour. There 
W&8 a certain dr;;rco of pliyaicaj exhanstion wliich com- 
manded rcposo. But the eluml>cr vns not long, and bis 
lirst feeling, for it conld not bo called thought, was that 
■ome great misfortune had occorred to him ; and then 
the thonght followiBg the fooling brought np the form of 
tbe bated Phisbus. Aftor tlrnt be bud no reid sleep, bnt n 
sort of oecattioual and feverish doze with intervals of inGiiil« 
distress, waking always to a ctmsciousncss of inexpressible 
tnortiGcation and despair. 

About one o'clock, roIii:(|uishing all hope of real and re- 
rrtflhingslumbiir, he rang his bell, and bis vnlel appearing in- 
forropd him that Father Coleman had called, nnd the Monsig- 
noro bad calk-d, and that now the Cardinal's secretary had 
innt culled, bat the valet ]ia<l announced that Uis lord was in- 
dispused. There was also a letter from Latly St. Jerome. 
Tills news brought a new train of feeling. Lothair re- 
loembercd that this was tlie day of the great eculosiastical 
foDction, nndor the personal auspices of tbe Cardinal, at 
which indeed Lothair had never positively promised to 
UKist, bis presence at which he bad sometimes thonght 
they pressed nnreasonahly, not to say ovea indelicately, but 
Kt which he bad perhaps led them, cot without cause, to bo- 
liovo that he would be pi-eseut. Of late the Itlonsignore 
liad assameil that Lothair hud promised to attend it. 

Why should be not P The world was all vanity. Never 
did he feel more convinced ihan at this moincnt of the 



148 LOTH AIR. 

tmth of his conclusion, that if religion were a real thingi 
man should live for it alone ; but then came the question 
of the Churches. He could not bring himself without a 
pang to contemplate a secession from the Church of his 
fathers. He took refuge in the wild but beautiful thought 
of a reconciliation between Rome and England. If the 
consecration of the whole of his fortune to that end could 
assist in effecting the purpose, he would cheerfully make 
the sacrifice. He would then go on a pilgrimage to the 
Holj Sepulchre, and probably conclude his days in a her- 
mitage on Mount Athos. 

In the meantime he rose, and, invigorated by his bath, 
his thoughts became in a slight degree more mundane. 
They recurred to the events of the last few days of his life, 
but in a spirit of self-reproach and of conscious vanity and 
weakness. Why, he had not known her a week ! This 
was Sunday morning, and last Sunday he had attended St. 
Mary's and offered up his earnest supplications for the unity 
of Christendom. That was then his sovereign hope and 
thought. Singular that a casual acquaintance with a 
stranger, a look, a glance, a word, a nothing, should have 
so disturbed his spirit and distracted his mind. 

And yet 

And then he fell into an easy-chair, with a hairbrush in 
either hand, and conjured up in reverie all that had passed 
since that wondrous mom when he addressed her by the 
roadside, until the last dark hour when they parted, and 
for ever. There was not a word she had uttered to him, op 
to anyone else, that he did not recall ; not a glance, not a 
gesture : her dress, her countenance, her voice, her hair. 
And what scenes had all this passed in! What refined 
and stately loveliness ! Blenheim, and Oxford, and Bel- 
mont ! They became her. Ah ! why could not life con- 
sist of the perpetual society of such delightful people in 
such delightful places ? 



L 



LOTH AIR. 



149 






His valet cnUred and mfbrracd Iiim that the Monaignoro 
h^ retoniei], and nonld not be denied. Lothair roused 
bimself from his delicious reverie, tuid his coontciiBJice be- 
came anxiona and difiquieted. Ho woiild have strugg-Ied 
against the intrusion, and was mnrmoring resistance to hia 
Iiopeleaa attendant, who eliook his bead, when the Mo:isig- 
iiore glided into the room without permission, oa the volet 
dii«p[>earcJ. 

onderfiil perforraanco: the Monsignoro liad at 

Banie time to mak-e a reconnaissance and to take np a 

itiuD, to &nd out what Lothair uit«nded to do, and ^et 

act and apeak as if he was acqnainted with those int«R' 

ti<>na, and was not only awni-e of, but approx-ed them. He 

emmed hurried and jet tranquil, abnost breathloas witli 

jolicitado and yet consclona of some satisfactory consnm- 

ition. Bis tones wore at all times hushed, but to-day lie 

a whisper, though a whisper of emphasis, and the 

■k eyoB of hia delicato aristocratic visage peered into 

, when he was making a remark which scorned 

reqairo no scrutiny. 

of the most important days for England that 
have happened in onr time,' said the Mensignore. ' Lady 
St.. Jerome thinks of nothing else. All our nobility will be 
there, the best blood in England, and some others who 
ipathise with the unity of the Church, the real question. 
rpthing has ever gratified the Cardinal more than your in- 
led presence. He sent to you this morning. Ho would 
kTO called himself, but he has much to go through to-day. 
Eminence said to mo : " It is exactly what I want. 
ivcrtnay bo onr dilTerencca, and they are really slight, 
it I want is to show to the world that the eons of tlio 
rch will unite for the cause of Divine truth. It is the 
ly oooNe that can save soeiety." When Lady St. Jerome 
him that you were coming this evening, his Eminence 
to niTected that ' 



ISO LOTH AIR. 



^ But I never said I was coming this evening/ said Lo> 
thair, rather dryly, and resolved to straggle, * either to 
Lady St. Jerome or to anyone else. I said I would think 
of it.' 

' But for a Christian to think of duty is to perform it,' 
said the Monsignore. ' To be i^orant of a duty is a sin, 
bat to be aware of daty, and not to fulfil it, is heinoas.' 

' Bat is it a duty ? ' said Lothair, rather doggedly. 

* What ! to serve God and save society ? Do you doubt 
it ? Have you read the " Declaration of Geneva ? " They 
nave declared war against the Church, the State, and the 
domestic principle. All the great truths and laws on which 
the family reposes are denounced. Have you seen Gari- 
baldi's letter? When it was read, and spoke of the re- 
ligion of God being propagated throughout the world, there 
was a universal cry of "No, no! no religion ! " But the 
religion of God wnn soon so explained as to allay all their 
fears. It is the religion of science. Instead of Adam, our 
ancestry is traced to the most grotesque of creatures; 
thought is phosphorus, the soul complex nerves, and our 
moral sense a secretion of sugar. Do you want these views 
in England ? Rest assured they are coming. And how 
are we to contend against them ? Only by Divine truth. 
And where is Divine truth ? In the Church of Christ: in 
the gospel of order, peace, and purity.' 

Lothair rose, and paced the room with his eyes on the 
ground. 

* 1 wish I had been bom in the middle ages,' he ex- 
cjlaimed, * or on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, or in some 
other planet : an3rwhere, or at any time, but in this country 
and in tliis age ! ' 

*That thought is not worthy of you, my Lord,' said 
Catcsby. *lt is a great privilege to live in this country 
and in this age. It is a great privilege, in the mighty 
contest between the good and the evil principle, to combat 



LOTH AIR. 



151 



ibr the riglilenus. Tlicy stand face to fooo niiw, an thfy 
lave stood before. There Ja Ctiristinnity which, hy reveu!- 
^^bg the tmtb, baa linutcd the license of bmnan reason ; 
^^^ere is llist haniAD reoHOn which rosiste reTelulioti an a 
^Hmidnfr^, which inHiitlB ojinu being' atheistical, or |>o1ytheii«- 
^Tic»l, or jiHDUioistii-'iil ; which lookn npon the roi|iiirenieuts 
at ubwlieDce, justice, truth, and pnritj, as limitittioDB o( 
huiTULu friiiiom. It is to the Chnrch that God bus conunitt<>d 
^^b» CDstivly and execution of His tmth and law. Tho 
^JBiDrch, ns witness, teacher, and jmlgt;, t'onlnidicLB mid 
^^■^da the sjiirit of license <o the t|uick. Tliia iit why it is 
^Bftlnl; this is why it is to be dostroyefl, and why they are 
prrpiiring a fntnre of rebellion, tyntiiny, fulsehoud, and de- 
grading debanchury. The Chnrch ulone ciui siivo us, and 
jtrn &■« asked to supplicate tlie Almighty to-ni);I>t, nnder 
cbciuastanecs of deep hope, to fiivour the nuion of cburcb- 
Buen, and save tlie human race fruin the impending delngi-,' 
Lothair tliivw himself again into ]iia se&t and siglied. * 1 
^^ba ruther indisposed to-day, my df>ar ^lonHit^niore, which is 
^^Biiisual with ttie, and scarcely equal lo suuh 11 theme, 
^^■nbtlcsB of tile dec[iegt interest t« me and to all. I myself 
^^Ksh, ns yon well know, that all mankind were praying 
^^bder the same roof. 1 shall coutinue in Bi-cliiaion this 
^^Moniing. Perhaps you will permit me to think over wbut 
^^^a have said with so mach beanty and force,* ■ 

'I had forgotten that I had a letter to delircr to yon,' 
eud Catesby; and he drew from his breast- pock ut a uot« 
jrtiich be hatidi.<d lo Ijothair. who opened it quite nneun- 
pitms of the piercing and evon excited observation of bis 
jompanion. 

I IjOthair rend the letter with a chtvn^ing conntenance, and 

9 be rea<t it again and blnshcd deeply. The letter was 

a Misa Arupdel, After a alight panne, without looking 

I, he said, 'Nine o'clock is the hour, I beb'cve.' 

* VoB,' aaid tlip filousipnore rather eagerly, ' but were I 



152 LOTHAIR. 



yon, I would be earlier than that. I woald order my 
carriage at eight. 1£ you will permit me, I will order it for 
you. You are not quite well. It will save you some little 
trouble, people coming into the room and all that, and the 
Cardinal will bo there by eight o'clock. 

' Thank you,' said Lothair ; ' have the kindness then, my 
dear Monsignore, to oi^er my brougham for me at half- 
past eight, and just say I can see no one. Adieu ! ' 

And the priest disappeared. 

Lothair remained the whole morning in a most troubled 
state, pacing his rooms, leaning sometimes with his srm 
upon the mantelpiece and his face buried in his arm, tnd 
often he sighed. About half-past five he rang for his valet 
and dressed, and in another hour he broke his fast : a little 
soup, a cutlet, and a glass or two of claret. And then lie 
looked at his watch ; and he looked at his watch every fi^e 
minutes for the next hour. 

He was in deep reverie when the servant announced 
that his carriage was ready. He started as from a drean, 
then pressed his hand to his eyes, and kept it there Ut 
some moments, and then, exclaiming ' Jacta est alea,' le 
descended the stairs. 

* Where to, my Lord ? ' enquired the servant when 1b 
had entered the carriage. 

Lothair seemed to hesitate, and then he said, ' to Belmont' 



CHAPTER XXXI. 



* Belmont is the only house I know that is properly lighted,* 
said Mr. Phcebus, and he looked with complacent criticism 
round the brilliant saloons. ' I would not visit anyone who 
had gas in his house ; but even in palaces I find lamps ; it 
is too dreadful. When they came here first there was an 



LOTHAIR. 153 

isunense cbaodelier BnGpeuiled in each of these rooma, 
polUtig down liie ceilings, dwarfing the apartmonte, leaving 
tbc ^csts all in darkness, aad throwing all the light oa 
the roof. The chajidelier ia tha great abomination of fumi- 
tm*; it makes a noble apartment look email. And then 
they tay joa cajiaot ligiit rooms without chandeliers ! 
Iiook at these : UDod anything be more brilliant ? And all 
tile ligbt in the right place ; on tliose who are in the cham- 
ber. All light should came &oni the side of a room, and 
if jon choose ta hs^vB candelabra like these you can always 
Bccure snScient.' 

■ ritcodoi^ was scaled on a sofa la conversation with a 
ladj of distinguished mien and with the countenance of & 
Soman empress. There were Taricua groups in the room, 
Standing or seated. Colonol Canipian was attending a lady 
) the piano where a celebrity presided, a gentJeinoa with 
ropped Head aud a long black beard. The lady was of 
lary beanty ; ouo of tliose faces one Bncount«ra in 
ar, rich, glowing, with dork fringed eyes of trcma- 
I lastre ; a figure scarcely less striking, of voluptuona 
metry. Her t<:iilette was exquisite, purha]>3 a httlo too 
blendid for the occasion, bat abstractedly of fine taste, 
1 she held, as she sang, a vast bonqaet entirely of white 
I flowers. The voice was as sweet as the stephauotis, 
I the eiectttion fanltless. It seemed the perfection ot 
r-siuging : no shi'ieks and no screams, none of those 
inising experiments which result from the fatal com- 
ititioQ of rival prima-donnoa. 

B singing when Lothair was ushered in. Theo- 
tk roBO and greeted him with fi'iendliness. Her glance 
a lliat of gratification at his arrival, but the performanee 
reventod any conversation Rave a few kind remarks inter- 
wged in a bushed tone. Colonel Campian came up : be 
(omed quite delighted at renewing his acquaintance with 
ietliatr, and began to talk rather too loudly, which made 



154 LOTH AIR, 



some of the gentlemon near the piano torn round wiih 
glances of wondering reproach. This embarroBsed his 
newlj-arrived guest, who in his distress caught the bow of 
a lad J who recognised him, and whom he instantly rement- 
bered as Mrs. Putney Giles. There was a vacant chair by 
her side, and he was glad to occupy it. 

* Who is that lady ? ' enquired Lothair of his companion 
when the singing ceased. 

* That is Madame Phcsbus,' said Mrs. Giles. 

^ Madame Phoebus ! ' exclaimed Lothair, with an uncon- 
scious feeling of some relief. ^ She is a very beautiful 
woman. Who was she ? ' 

^ She is a Cantacuzene, a daughter of the famous Greek 
merchant. The Cantacu zones, you know, ar^ great people, 
(iosccndants of the Greek Emperors. Her uncle is prince of 
Samos. Mr. Cantacuzene was very much opposed to the 
match, but I think quite wrong. Mr. Phoebus is a most 
distinguished man, and the alhance is of the happiest. 
Never was such mutual devotion.' 

* I am not surprised,' said Lothair, wonderfully re- 
lieved. 

* Her sister Euphrosyne is in the room,' continued Mrs. 
Giles, * the most extraordinary resemblance to her. There 
is just the difference between the matron and the maiden ; 
that is all. They are nearly of the same age, and before 
the marriage might have been mistaken for each other. 
The most charming thing in the world is to hear the two 
sisters sing together. I hope they may to-night. I know 
the family very well. It was IVlrs. Cantacuzene who intro- 
duced me to Theodora. You know it is quite en regie to 
call her Theodora. All the men call her Theodora ; " the 
divine Theodora " is, I believe, the right thing.' 

* And do you call her Theodora ? ' asked Lothair, rather 
dryly. 

* Why, no,' said Mrs. Giles, a litUo confused. • We are 



LOTH AIR. 



'55 



t totim&te, at, lanst not very. Mrs. Uampion haa been sx 

■J bonse, and I have bemi bcre two or thrco tmiea ; not bo 

B I cocld wish, for Mr. Giles, you see, does not like 

r»anl9 and liorsoa to be used on Sundnjs, and no more 

week dajs he is too much engaged or loo tircil 

come out this distance; so jou see ' 

The ainging had ceased, and Theodora approached them. 
dilressing Lothair, she said, ' The Princess of Tivoli wishca 
jiiat yon ahonlJ be presented to her.' 

1 The Princess of Tivoli was a Roman dame of one of the 
it illnstrious houses, but nho now li?ed at Pam. She 

d in her time taten an active part in Italian politics, and 
liad sacrificed to the cause to which she was devoted the 
larger part of a large fortune. What had been spaiiid, how- 
orer, permitted her to live in the Fi-ecch capital with 
vlegance, if not with splendour; and her galooa waa the 
gathering' roof. In Paris, of almost everyone who waa cele- 
brated for geiiius or aewmptiiihinonts, Thongli repnted U. 
be hanghty and capricious, she entertained for Theodora an 
eren pasaiouate friendship, and now visited England only to 
see her. 

' Hadame Campian has been telling me of all the kind 
things yon did for her at Oxford,' said the Princess. * Some 
day yon roust nhow me Oxford, but it must be next year. 
I »ory much ailmi™ the free University life. Tell me now, 
It Oxford you still have the Protestant religion p ' 
fiothftir vontiircd lo bow asHcnt. 

'Ah ! that is well," continued the PrincoHS. ' I advite 
i to keep it. If we had only hod the Pi-otostant religion 
i Italy, things would have beuii voiy different, Yon are 
Ttnnal« in this country in having the Protestant religion 
a real nohilily. Tell mc now, in yonr constitution, if 
B fntbersits in the upper chamber, the son sita in the lower 
} that I know : hul is there any nmjorat attached to 
it?* 



156 LOTH AIR. 



* Not at present/ 

* Yon sit in the lower boose of coarse ? * 

' I am not old enough to sit in either house,' said Lo- 
thair, ' but when I am of age, which I shall be when I have 
the honour of showing Oxford to your Highness, I must 
sit in the upper house, for I have not the blessing of a 
living father.* 

' Ah ! that is a great thing in jour country,' exclaimed 
the Princess, 'a man being his own master at so early 
an age.' 

* I thought it was a " heritage of woe," ' said Lothair. 

* No, no,' said the Princess ; * the only tolerable thing in 
life is action, and action is feeble without youth. What if 
you do not obtain your immediate object? — ^yoa always 
think you will, and the detail of the adventure is full of 
rapture. And thus it is the blunders of youth are pre- 
ferable to the triumphs of manhood, or the successes of 
old age.* 

' Well, it will be a consolation for me to remember this 
when I am in a scrape,* said Lothair. 

' Oh ! you have many, many scrapes awaiting you,' said 
the Princess. ' You may look forward to at least ten years 
of blunders : that is, illusions ; that is, happiness. Fortu- 
nate young man ! ' 

Theodora had, without appearing to intend it, relin- 
quished her seat to Lothair, who continued his conversation 
with the Princess, whom he liked, but who, he was sorry 
to hear, was about to leave England, and immediately, 
that very night. * Yes,* she said, * it is my last act of devo- 
tion. You know in my country we have saints and shrines. 
All Italians, they say, are fond, are superstitious ; my pil- 
grimage is to Theodoi'a. I must come and worship her 
once a year.* 

A gentleman bowed lowly to the Princess, who returned 



LOTH AIR. i;? 

\ liifi Ba]at« with picaiwd aliicrity. ' Do you know wlio that 

' aajd the Princess to Lothair. ' That is Barou Goze- 

iKna, one of our great rcpntationa. He most htive jnst 

Tired. I will present yon to him : it ia aJwaya n^reeablo 

mho know a great man,' she added ; ' at least Goethe says 

The philosopher, at her invitation, took a chair opposite 
e sofa. Though a profound man, he had all the vivacity 
Bnd passion which are geoeralljr supposed to be pccnliar to 
the superficial. He had remarkable conversation a! power, 
which be never spared. Ijothair was captivated by !iis 
eloquence, his striking observations, his warmth, and the 
flashing of his southern eye. 

' Baron GozcUus agrees with your celebrated pastor, Dr 
Cnmmiug,' said Theodora, with a tinge of demure sarcasm, 
Kod believes that the end of the world 19 at hand. 
' And for the same reasons ? ' enquired Lothair, 
' Not emctly,' said Theodora, ' but in tliia iuBtance 
ience and revelation have arrived at the same result, and 
tX is what all desire.' 

' All that I aaid wna,' said Goielins, ' that the action of 
sun had become so irregular thut I thonght the chances 
sre in favour of tho destruction of our planet. At least, 
if I were a public office, I would not insure it.' 

Tet the risk would not be very great under those cir- 
oamstances,' said Theodora. 

The destruction of this world ia foretold,' aaid Lothair; 
the stars are to fall from the sky ; bnt while I credit, I 
euinot bring my mind to comprehend, such a catastrophe.' 
I have seen a world created and a world destroyed,' 
feBid Gozehus. * The last was flickering ten years, and 
it went out as I wafl watohing it,' 

And the first ? ' enquired Lothair anxiously. 
Disturbed space for half a century ; a great pregnancy, 



158 LOTH AIR. 



William Herscbel told me it would come when I wajB a boy, 
and I cruised for it through two- thirds of mj life. It came 
at last, and it repaid me.' 

There was a stir. Euphrosyne was going to sing with 
her sister. They swept by Lothair in their progress to the 
instrument, like the passage of sultanas to some kiosk on 
the Bosphorus. It seemed to him that he had never be- 
held anything so resplendent. The air was perfumed by 
their movement and the rustling of their wondrous robes. 
'They must be of the Aryun race,' thought Lothair, 
' though not of the Phidian type.' They sang a Greek air, 
and their sweet and touching voices blended with exquisite 
harmony. Everyone was silent in the room, because every^ 
one was entranced. Then they gave their friends some 
patriotic lay which required a chorus, the sisters in turn 
singing a stanza. Mr. PhcBbus arranged the chorus in a 
moment, and there clustered round the piano a number of 
gentlemen almost as good-looking and picturesque as him- 
self. Then, while Madame Phosbus was singing, Euphrosyne 
suddenly and with quickness moved away and approached 
Theodora, and whispered something to her, but Theodoi^a 
slightly shook her head and seemed to decline. 

Euphrosyne regained the piano, whispered something to 
Colonel Campian, who was one of the chorus, and then 
commenced her own part. Colonel Campian crossed the 
room and spoke to Theodora, who instantly, without the 
sb'ghtest demur, joined her friends. Lothair felt agitated, 
as he could not doubt Theodora was going to sing. And 
BO it was ; when Euphrosyne had finished, and the chorus 
she had inspired had died away, there rose a deep contralto 
sound, which, though without effort, seemed to Lothair the 
most thrilling tone he had ever listened to. Deeper and 
richer, and richer and deeper, it seemed to become, afi it 
wound with exquisite facility through a symphony of de- 
licious sound, until it ended in a passionate burst, which 



LOTHMR. 



>i9 



I LotIiair*E heart beet Eo tomnltaoiuily tlt&t Tor a 
wment lie tboaglit be fihoatd be onerpowerDd. 

' I nerer heard anjrthiiig ao fine iu my life,' aaJd Lotbair 
D the French philosopher. 

if yon lidd heard t list woman sing the MarsdIlaiBB, 
i I did once, Co three thoDsand people, then joa 'nmild 
^now what was fioe. Not one of us who would not bftvp 
died on the spot for her 1 ' 

Tlie concert whs over. The PrinWKs of Tivoli had risen 
D eny rarewell. She stood apart with Theodora, holding 
K>th her hands, and speaking with eomestneBB. Then ehe 
J her lips to Theodora's forehead and said, 'Adieu, 
iDf b<»t belored ; the spring will retnm.' 

The Princess had disappeared, and Uadame Phtebus 

e up to saj good night to ber boetcss. 
'It is such a dehcioas nifi^ht,' said Tlieodom, 'that I 
nave ordered oor Btrawberries and cream on the terrace. 
Too must not go.' 

And ao she invited them all to the terrace. There vra» 
a breath of air, the gnrden was flooded with moonlight 
1 which the fountain gUttcred, and the atmosphere was ae 

' I tbintc the moon will melt the ice to-Dight,' said Theo- 
) led Modmne Photbos to a table covered with 
that innocent refreshment in many forms, and pyramids of 
strawberries, and gentle drinks which the faecy of Ameriui 
eonld alone dovise. 

'I wonder we did not pass the whole evening on tlio 

,' said Iiothair 

* One must sing in 3 room,' said Enphrosyne, ' or the 
igbtingales would eclipse ns.' 

LotLoir looked qnickly at the speaker, and canght the 
e of a peculiar countenance : mockery blended wiUi 
n splendour. 
' I think atrawborrica and cream the most popular of sH 



,6o LOTH AIR. 



n 



food/ said Madame Phoebnii, as some tonched her beaaiifii] 
lips. 

' Yes ; and one is not ashamed ot eating it,' said Theo- 
dora. 

Soon there was that stir which precedes the breaking np 
of an assembly. Mrs. Giles and some others had to retom 
to town. Madame Phoebus and Euphrosyne were near 
neighbours at Roehampton, but their carriage had been for 
some time waiting. Mr. Phoebus did not accompany them. 
He chose to walk home on such a night, and descended 
into the garden with his remaining friends. 

'They are going to smoke,' said Theodora to Lothair. 

• Is it your habit ? ' 

* Not yet.' 

' I do not dislike it in the air and at a distance ; but I 
banish them the terrace. I think smoking must be a great 
consolation to a soldier ; ' and as she spoke, she moved, 
and, without formally inviting him, he found himself walk- 
ing by her side. 

Rather abruptly he said, * You wore last night at the 
Opera the same ornament as on the first time I had the 
pleasure of meeting you.' 

She looked at him with a smile, and a little surprised. 

* My solitary tiinket ; I fear you will never see any other.' 

* But you do not despise trinkets ? ' said Lothair. 

* Oh ! no, they are very well. Once I was decked with 
jewels and ropes of pearls, like Titian's Queen of Cyprus. 
I sometimes regret my pearls. There is a reserve about 
pearls which I like, something soft and dim. But they 
are all gone, and I ought not to regret them, for they went 
in a good cause. I kept the star, because it was given to 
me by a hero, and once we flattered ourselves it was a 
symbol.' 

' I wish I were a hero,' said Lothair. 

* Yon may yet prove one ' 



^B LOTHAIR. I6i 

^^P' And if I do, may I give yon a, star f ' 
^™'* ir it be symlwUcal.' 
'Bntofwhflt?' 
' or nn heroic porpose,' 

' Bnt what is &n heroic porpose ? ' exdauned Loihair. 
• Instead of being here to-night, I ought [lerhapB to hiive 
liecn present ut a religions function of the highest and 
dLt-pcRt import, which might have ioflnenct'd my desi.iny 
«nd kil to something heroic. Bnt my mind is ascertain 
imJ nneelllod. I speak to you without resen'e, for my 
hcflirt always entirely opens to yon, and I have a sort of 
anJimitcd confidence in your judgment. BeaideB, 1 have 
never forgotten what yon said at Oxford abont religion : 
that you conld not conceive society without religion. It 
■ what I fuel myself, and moat strongly ; and yet there 
a period when rclipon was so assailed. There 
I no doabt the Atheists are bolder, are more completely 
niaed, both as to infellectnal and even physical force, 
D ever was known. I have beard that from the highest 
Biority. For my own part, I think I am prepared to die 
pDivino truth. I have eiamiced myself severely, but I 
tsot think I ehonid falter. Indeed, can there bo for maii 
jobler duty than to he the champion of God ? But then 
I qneetion of the Churches interferes. If there weio 
f one Chnrch, I could see my way. Without a Church 
bo no true religion, becanse otherwise you have 
■ scourity for the truth. I am a member of the Church 
I England, and whi>n I was at Oxford I thought the An- 
1 view might he sustained. But of late I have given 
r mind deeply ta these matters, for after all tliey are the 
idf matlers h man Hhoahl tliink of; and I confuss to you 
" B claim of Uonio to orthiidoiy seems to me irrcBiBtible. 
*Tan make no distinction, then, between religion tni 
rthodoxy,* said Theodom. 
' Certainly I make no difference.' 



i62 LOTH AIR. 



^ And yet what is orthodox at Dover is not orthodox at 
Calais or Ostcnd. I should he sorry to think that, becanso 
there was no orthodoxy in Belgium or France, there was 
no religion.' 

' Yes,* said Lothair, * I think I see what you mean.' 
'Then again, if we go further,' continued Theodora, 
' there is the whole of the East ; that certainly is not 
orthodox according to your views : you may not agree 
with all or any of their opinions, but you could scarcely 
maintain that, as communities, they are irreligious.' 

* Well, you could not certainly,* said Lothair. 

* So you see,' said Theodora, * what is called orthodoxy 
hiis very little to do with religion ; and a person may be 
very religious without holding the same dogmas as yourself^ 
or, as some think, without holding any.* 

'According to you, then,' said Lothair, 'the Anghcan 
view might be maintained.' 

* I do not know what the Anglican view is,' said Theo- 
dora. ' I do not belong to the Roman or to the Anglican 
Church.' 

' And yet you are very religious,' said Lothair. 

* I hope so ; I try to be so ; and when I fail in any duty, 
it is not the fault of my religion. I never deceive myself 
into that ; I know it is my own fault.* 

There was a pause ; but they walked on. The soft 
splendour of the scene and all its accessories, the moon- 
light, and the fragrance, and the falling waters, wonder- 
fully bewitched the spirit of the young Lothair. 

' There is nothing I would not tell you,' he suddenly ex- 
claimed, turning to Theodora, ' and sometimes I think there 
is nothing you would not tell me. Tell me then, I entreat 
you, what is your religion ? ' 

' The true religion, I tliink,' said Theodora. ' I worship 
in a church where I believe God dwells, and dwells for my 
guidance and my good : my conscience.* 



snsdence maj bo divine,' said LotLair, ' and 1 
e it 18; bnt the cunsciences of other persons ore not 
what ia to guide them, and what is to prevent 
il« tie evil they wonid perpetrate ? ' 
never heard from priestg,' said Theodora, ' any 
truth which ray conscience had not revealed to tne. They 
nse different language from nliat I ubo, but I find after a 
time that we mean the same thing, Wbat I call time they 

P eternity ; when they describe heaven, they give A 
tnre of earth j and beings whom they style divine they 
Bitt with all the attributes of bnmanity.' 
And yet Ja it not true,' said Lotbair, ' that ' 

Bnt at this moment there were the sonnds of merriment 
l_ Aad of approaching footsteps ; the fflrm of Mr, PLcebna ap- 
L^Mred ascending the steps of the terrace, followed by 
^^^bers. The smokers hod Fulfilled their task. There were 
^^HfvwelU, and bows, and good-nights, Luthair had to retire 
^^Kth the others, and as he threw biinseif into his brougham 
lie excliumcd, ' I perceive that Ufo ia not so simple an affair 
u I ODCC eapposcd.' 



■ CHAPTER XXXII. 

Wut.t the stranger, who had proved ao opportune an ally 

to tiothair at the Fenian meeting, separated &om his com- 

iD, he proceeded in the direction of Pentonvillo, and, 

pursuing his way through a number of obscure streets, 

quiot, decent, and monotonous, ho stopped at a small 

) iu a row of many residencea, all of them in form, 

colonr, and general character so identical, that the 

number on the door could alone assure the visitor that he 

not in error when he sounded the knocker. 

Ah ! is it you, Captain Brngos P ' said the smiling and 



to U 

i 



i64 LOTH AIR. 



blushing maiden who answered to his snmmons. 'We 
have not seen you for a long time.* 

* Well, yon look as kind and as pretty as ever, Jenny,* 
said the Captain ; * and how is my friend ?' 

* Well,' said the damsel, and she shrugged her shoulders, 
* he mopes. I'm very glad you have come back, Captain, 
for he sees very few now, and is always writing. I cannot 
bear that writing ; if he would only go and take a good 
walk, I am sure he would be better.* 

' There is something in that,' said Captain Bruges. * And 
is he at home, and will he see me ? ' 

* Oh ! he is always at home to you. Captain ; but I will 
just run up and tell him you are here. Yon know it is long 
since we have seen you. Captain ; coming on half a year, I 
think.' 

* Time flies, Jenny. Go, my good girl, and I will wait 
below.' 

' In the parlour, if you please. Captain Bruges. It is ta 
let now. It is more than a month since the Doctor left u& 
That was a loss, for as long as the Doctor was here, he 
always had some one to speak with.' 

So Captain Bruges entered the little dining-room, with 
its mahogany table, and half-a-dozen chairs, and cellaret^ 
and over the fireplace a portrait of Garibaldi, which had 
been left as a legacy to the landlady by her late lodger, 
Dr. Trcsorio. 

The Captain threw a quick glance at the print, and then 
falling into reverie, with his hands crossed behind him, 
paced the little chamber, and was soon lost in thoughts 
which made him unconscious how long had elapsed when 
the maiden summoned him. 

Following her, and ascending the staircase, he was 
ushered into the front room of the first floor, and there 
came forward to meet him a man rather below the middle 
height, but of a symmetrical and imposing mien. His 



LOTHAIR. i6s 

tv» was grave. Dot to say snd; thonglit, uot time, hod 
partially silvered the clnstcring of his raven hair; but 
inteUectnal power reigned in his wide brow, whDe detef 
minatioD was the character of the rest of Ills cotmtencince 
under greut contiol, j-et apparently, from the dark flashing 
of his eye, not incompatible with fanaticism. 

'General,' lie eiclaimed, 'your presence always rcani- 
tostcfl me. I shall at least have some news on which I can 
ivly. Toar visit is andden ; sudden tilings aro often 
hjippy ones. la there anything etirring in the promised 
land F Speak, speak ! Yoa have a thousand tiiinga to 
^^7, (tad 1 have a. thonsand ears.' 

^B ' Uy dear Mirandolii,' replied the visitor, ' I will take 
Htkve to ndl into cooncil a friend whose presence is always 
profitable.' 

So saying, he took ont a cigar-case, and oOered it to hia 



' We liavo amoked together in palnces,' said Mirandola, 
■eceptjcg the profl'er with a delicate white hand. 

' Bat not these cigars,' replied the General. ' They are 
Bperb, my only reward for al! my tranaatlantic work, and 
9 I think a w 

* AxiA Jenny shall glvo ns a capital cup of c 
loU : ' it is the only hospitality that I can ofl'er my 

Give ma a light, my General ; and now, Iiow a 
ings? 

* Well, at Ibo Erat glance, very l)ad ; the French have 
l»fl Rome, and we are not m it.' 

' WoU, tliat is an infamy not of to-day or yesterday,' 
T«plied Mirandola, Hhoogh not less an ioiainy. We talked 
over this six months ago, when you were over here abont 
Bometlung else, and from that moment nnto the preseot I 
bave mtli unceasing eSort laboured to erase tiiis stigma 
a the human consciousness, but with oo success. Mou 
cbapged ; public spirit is eztiact ; the deeds of '4^ exa 



i66 LOTH AIR. 



to the present generation as incomprehensible as the Pnnio 
wars or the feats of Marins against the Cimbri. What we 
want are the most natural things in the world, and easy of 
attainment because thej are uatural. We want our metro- 
polis, our native frontiers, and true liberty. Instead of 
these we have compromises, conventions, provincial jealou- 
sies, and French prefects. It is disgusting, heartrending ; 
sometimes I fear my own energies are waning. My health 
is wretched ; writing and speaking are decidedly bad for 
me, and I pass my life in writing and speaking. Towards 
evening I feel utterly exhausted, and am sometimes, which 
I thought I never could be, the victim of despondency. 
The loss of the Doctor was a severe blow, but they harried 
him out of the place. The man of Paris would never rest 
till he was gone. I was myself thinking of once more 
trying Switzerland, but the obstacles are great; and, in 
truth, I was at my darkest moment when Jenny brought 
me the light of your name.' 

The General, who had bivouacked on a group of small 
chairs, his leg on one, his elbow on another, took his cigai 
from his mouth and delivered himself of a volume of smoke, 
and then said dryly, ' Things may not be so bad as they 
seem, comrade. Your efforts have not been withont fruit. 
I have traced them in many quarters, and, indeed, it is 
about their possible consequences that I have come over to 
consult with you.' 

' Idle words, I know, never escape those lips,' said 
Mirandola ; * speak on.' 

'Well,' said the General, 'you see that people are a 
little exhausted by the efforts of last year ; and it must be 
confessed that no slight results were accomplished. The 
freedom of Venice ' 

* A French intrigue,' exclaimed Mirandola. * The free- 
dom of Venice is the pnce of the slavery of Rome. I 
hoard of it with disgust.' 



L OTHA IR. ifi? 

I'Well, we do not differ nmeh on ttat bead,' snid tho 
nerftl. ' 1 am not a Roman as you are, bnt £ view 
me, with reference to tbe object of my life, with feelingB 
t leas ardent and absorbing tban yourself, who would 
L to see it again tho empresa of the world- I am a 
Idicr, and love war, and, left to mjBelf, would care little 
prbapa for what form of goverument I combated, provided 
e army was conXtituted on tbo principles of fmternity and 
Ji^ ! bnt the pa<iiiion of my lil'e, to which I have siwri- 
1 nulitary position, and jiorbapB,' be added in a lower 
I, ' perhaps even military fame, haa been to destroy 
■ieetCTark, and, so long ua the Pope roles in Homo, it will 
^Bopreme,' 
i*Wb hare stmck birn down once,' said Mirandola. 
•And I hope we shall again, and for ever,' eaid (he 
Micml, ' and it is about tliat I would speak. You aro in 
□ supposing that your {rionds do not sympathise with 
(, or that their answers are dilatory or ovnsive. There 
l^ianch astir; tho old spirit is not extinct, but the dilli- 
B greater than in former days when we had only 
B Anstrians to encounter, and we cannot afford to make 
' ttaotberrailnre.' 

' There conid bo no failnre if we were clear and detor- 

minod. There nmst be a hondrcd thousand men who 

woiUd die for our metropolis, oar natural frontiers, and 

tme liberty. The mass of the psendo-Italian army mnst 

1 1 bo with ns. As for foroign interference its repetition 

J^^hema to mo impossible. The brotherhood in the diForont 

^^■BDntrieB, if well guided, could alone pi-event it. There 

^Hnonld be at onco a manifesto addi-esxed to the peoples. 

^^They have become absorbed in money- grubbing' and wlmt 

Uiey coll industry. The extcronl life of a nation is its most 

inportant one. A nation, as an individnal, has dutius to 

iUfil appointed by God and Uis moral liiw : the individoal 

towards Ida family, his town, hi:^ couotry; the uatiou 



k 



i68 LOTHAIR. 



towards the coiintrj of countries, humanity : the outward 
world. I firmly believo that we fail and renounce the 
religious and divine element of our life whenever we 
betray or neglect those duties. The internal activiiy of a 
nation is important and sacred because it prepares the in- 
strument for its appointed task. It is mere egotism if it 
converges towards itself degrading and doomed to expi^ 
tion ; as will be the fate of this country in which we now 
dwell,' added Mirandola, in a hushed voice. * England had 
a mission : it had belief, and it had power. It announced 
itself the representative of religious, commercial, and poli- 
tical freedom, and yet, when it came to action, it allowed 
Denmark to be crushed by Austria and Prussia, and, in 
the most nefarious transaction of modem times, uttered 
the approving shriek of ** Perish Savoy ! " ' 

'My dear Miraudola,' said the Greneral, trimming his 
cigar, * there is no living man who appreciates your genius 
aHd your worth more than myself; perhaps I might say 
there is no living man who has had equal opportunities of 
estimating them. You formed the mind of our country ; 
you kindled and kept alive the sacred flame when all was 
gloom, and all were without heart. Such prodigious de- 
votion, so much resource and pertinacity and patience, such 
unbroken spirit, were never before exhibited by man, and, 
whatever may be said by your enemies, I know that in the 
greatest hour of action you proved equal to it; and yet at 
this moment, when your Mends are again stirring, and 
there is a hope of spring, I am bound to tell you that there 
are only two persons in the world who can effect tlie 
revolution, and you are not one of them.* 

* I am ardent, my General, perhaps too sanguine, but I 
liave no self-love, at least none when the interests of the 
great cause are at stake. Tell me then their names, and 
count, if required, on my co-operation.* 

' Garibaldi and Mary-Anne.* 



LOTH AIR. 



169 



' A PolctineUo and a Bayadere ! ' exclaiinod ^lirnndola, 

I, spnnging from his seat, lie uupatien tly paced the room. 

' And yet,' coBtinned the General calmly, ' there is no 
TDBuner of doabt that Garibaldi is the only name that 
could collect ten thonsand men at any given point in ItaJy ; 
while in France, though her influence ie mytldcal, the 
Dame of Uary-Acne ia a name of magic. Though never 
mentioned, it is never forgotten. Atid the elightest nltii- 
sioQ to it among the initiated will open every heart. Thcra 
ni-e more secret societies in France at this moment than at 
aiiy period aince '65, though yoa hear cothing of them ; 
%nd they believe in Mary-Anne, and in nothing else.' 

' Yon have been at Caprera P ' aiiid Mirandola 

'I have been at Caprera.' 

' And what did he say ? ' 

*Ho will do nothing w 
Toynrd.' 

'Ha vraata to get woandod in his otiior foot,' said 
Mirandola, with savago saraasni. 'Will lie never weary of 
being betrayed ? ' 

,' said the General. 



ithont the sanction of the So- 



I foond him ctdm and si 
What of the woman i* ' 

Q&ribaldi will not move without the Savoyard, and 
'-Anno will uot move without Garibaldi ; that Ii^ the 



^^B ■ Hbts you seen her ? ' 

^^V 'Not yet; I have been to Capi-cm, and I have come over 
^To see her uxd you. Italy ia ready for tlio move, and is 
only waiting fur the great man. H.i will not act withont 
the Savoyard ; he believes in him, 1 will not be sceptieul. 
There are dilttcidtiea cnou!*h without imnginiDg any. We 
have no m»ney, and all onr soorees of snjiply are di'iunod ; 
bat we have the inspiration of a sacred cause, we have yon ; 
_we may gain otlters, and, at any rale, the French are no 
ngur at Rome.' 






I70 LOTH AIR, 



CHAPTER XXXILL 

• Thi Goodwood Cup, my Lord ; the Doncaster. Thia pair 
of flagons for bis Highness the Khedive, something quite 
new. Yes, parcel-gilt, the only style now ; it gives relief 
to design : yes, by Monti, a great man, hardly inferior to 
Flaxman, if at all. Flaxman worked for Rondell and 
Bridge in the old days, one of the principal causes of their 
saccess. Toar Lordship's gold service was supplied by 
Rundell and Bridge. Very fine service indeed, mach by 
Flaxman : nothing of that kind seen now.' 

' I never did see it,' said Lothair. Ho was replying to 
Mr. Rnby, a celebrated jeweller and goldsmith, in a cele< 
brated street, who had saluted him when he had entered 
the shop, and called the attention of Lothair to a group of 
treasures of art. 

' Strange,* said Mr. Ruby, smiling. ' It is in the next 
room, if your Lordship would like to see it. I think your 
Lordship should see your gold service. Mr. Putney Giles 
ordered it here to be examined and put in order.' 

' I should like to see it very much,' said Lothair, ' though 
I came to speak to yon about something else.' 

And so Lothair, following Mr. Ruby into an inner apart- 
ment, had the gratification, for the first time, of seeing his 
own service of gold plate laid out in completeness, and 
which had been for some time exhibited to the daily admir- 
ation of that favoured portion of the English people who 
frequent the brilliant and glowing counters of Mr. Ruby. 

Not that Lothair was embarrassed by their presence at 
this moment. The hour of their arrival had not yet come. 
Business had not long commenced when Lothair entered 
the shop, somewhat to the surprise of its master. Those 



thi 






LOTH AIR. 171 

wlio know Bond Street only in t1io blaze of fasli ions, tile 
hours con form bol an imperfect conceptdon of its matotinnl 
cfaarm, when it is still Bhadj and fresh, when there are no 
carrisgcB, rarely a cart, and pasBera-by gliding about 
on real bnsinoBS. One feela as in some continental city. 
Then there are time and opportunity to look at the shops ; 
and there ia no street in the world that can fiimifth aucit a 
ooUeetion, filled with bo many objects of beanty, cnrioaity, 
and interest The jewellors and goldsmiths and dealers iu 
mi« funiitnre ; porcelain, and ca.binet3, and French pic- 
turefl ; have long fixed npon Bond Street as their faronritc 
qn&rtAr, and are not chary of displaying their treasuroa ; 
though it may bo a question whether aomo of the magazines 
of fancy food, delicacies cnlled from all the climes and 
regions of the globe, particularly at the matin hoar, may 
not, in their picturesque variety, be the most attractive. 
The palm, perhaps, would be given to the fishniongera, 
with their eiuberant exliihitions, grouped with Bkill, 
■tartling often with strange forms, dazzling with prismatic 
tints, and breathing the invigorating redolence of the sea. 

' Well, I like the service,' eoid Lothair, 'and am glad, as 

you tell me, that its fashion has come round again, because 

there will now he no neccBsitj for ordering a new one. I 

do not myself much care for plate. I like flowers and por- 

a table, and I like to see the guests. However, I 

ippoBe it is al] right, and I most nse it. It waa not about 
ilate that I called ; I wanted to speak to yon about pearls.' 

' Ah ! ' said Mr. Ruby, and his face hright«ned ; and 
ushering Lothair to some glass eases, he at the same time 
provided his customer with a seat. 

Something like that ? ' said Mr. Ruby, wlio by this time 
slid into his proper side of the counter, and was un- 

:kiug the glass cases ; ' something like tliat P ' and he 
{>1ac«d before Lothair a string of pretty pearls with a 
dkmond cluap, ' With the earrings, twenty-five hundred,' 



172 LOTH AIR. 



ho added ; aud then, observing that Lothair did not 
enchanted, he said, * This is something quite new,' and ha 
carelessly pushed towards Lothair a magnificent necklace 
of turquoises and brilliants. 

It was impossible not to admire it, the arrangement was 
80 novel and jet of such good taste ; but though its price 
was double that of the pearl necklace, Mr. Rubj did not 
seem to wish to force attention to it, for he put in Lothair*s 
hands almost immediately the finest emerald necklace in 
the world, and set in a style that was perfectly ravishing. 

' The setting is from the Campana collection,' said Mr. 
Ruby. • They certainly understood things in those days, 
but I can say that, so far as mere workmanship is oouc 
cemed, this quite equals them. I have made one for the 
Empress. Here is a black pearl, very rare, pear shape, 
and set in Golconda diamonds, two thousand guineas ; it 
might be suspended to a necklace, or worn as a locket. 
This is pretty,' and he offered to Lothair a gigantio 
sapphire in brilliants and in the form of a bracelet. 

* The finest sapphire I know is in this ring,' added Mr, 
Ruby, and he introduced his visitor to a tray of precious 
rings. * I have a pearl bracelet here that your Lordship 
might like to see,' and he placed before Lothair a case of 
fifty bracelets, vying with each other in splendour. 

* But what I want,' said Lothair, * are pearls.' 

* I understand,' said Mr. Ruby. * This is a curious 
thing,' and he took out a paper packet. * There ! ' he said, 
opening it and throwing it before Lothair so carelessly that 
some of the stones ran over the glass covering of the counter. 
• There, that is a thing not to be seen every day, a packet 
of diamonds, bought of an Indian prince, and sent by us to 
be cut and polished at Amsterdam (nothing can be done in 
that way except there), and just returned ; nothing vei*y 
remarkable as to size, but all of high quality : some fine 
stones ; that for example,' and he touched one with the 



r 



^L sbip rei 



LOTHAIR. 173 

tong noi. of his little fin^r ; ' that is worth seven hnndrod 
eutncoa, the whole packet worth pethaps ten thoosand 
pounds.' 

' Very interesUng,' Bsid Lothair, ' but what I want are 
pearls. That necklace which yoa have shown me is like 
the necklace of a doll. I want pearls, sach as joa soe 
them in Italian pictures, Titiacs and Gior^oiies, suL-h as a 
Queen of Cyprus would wear. I want ropes of pcsris.' 

'All!' said Mr. Hoby, 'I know what your Lordship 
mcnn^. Lady Bideford had Bomethicy; of that kind. Sba 
Tfiy much deceivL'd ua; always told ua her neuklace must 
bo sold at her death, and she had very had hi'ahh. We 
waitod, bnt when she went, poor lady, it was elsimcd by 
the heir, and is in Chancery at this very moment. Tlie 
Jostini&nis have ropes of pearls ■, Madame Jnatiniani of 
Pftris, I have been told, gives a rope to every one of her 
chUiiren when they marry; bnt there is no expectation of 
a Jnstiniani parting with anything. Pearls are trouble- 
some property, my Lord. They rerjuire great cfvre ; they 
want I)otb air and eicrcise ; they mnst be worn frequently ; 
you cannot lock them up, The Duchess of Uax-ant has the 
Giiost pearls in this country, and I told her Grace, " Wear 
them whenever yoa can, wear thom at breakfaat ;" and 
her Qrwx follows mj advice, she does wear them at hreak- 
faat. I go down to Havant Castle every year to ace her 
Omce's poaris, and I wipe every one of them myself, and 
let them lie on a sunny bank in the garden, in a westerly 
wind, for Itonra and days together. Their complexion 
would have been ruined had it not been for this treatment. 
Pearla are like girls, my Lord, they require quite as much 
Attention.' 

'Then you cannot give me what I want? ' said Lothair. 

' Well, I can, and I cannot," said Mr. Ruby. ' I am in a 
diffionlly. I have in this house exactly what your LonU 
ship requires, but 1 have oQered them to Lord Topax, and 



1 74 LOTH AIR. 



I have not received his answer. We have infitmciions to 
inform his Lordship of every very precious jewel that we ob- 
tain, and give him the preference as a purchaser. Neverthe- 
less there is no one I could more desire to oblige than your 
Lordship ; your Lordship has every claim upon us, and I 
should bo truly glad to find these pearls in your Lordship's 
possession if I could only see my way. Perhaps your 
Lordship would like to look at them ? ' 

* Certainly, but pray do not leave me here alone with all 
these treasures/ said Lothair, as Mr. Ruby was quitting 
the apartment. 

* Oh ! my Lord, with you ! ' 

' Tes, that is all very well ; but if anything is missed 
hereafter, it will always be remembered that these jewels 
were in my possession, and I was alone. I highly object 
to it.' But Mr. Ruby had vanished, and did not inmie- 
diately reappear. In the meantime it was impossible for 
Lothair to move : he was alone and surrounded with 
precious necklaces, and glittering rings, and gorgeous 
bracelets, with loose diamonds running over the countor. 
It was not a kind or an amount of property that Lothair, 
relinquishing the trust, could satisfactorily deliver to a 
shopman. The shopman, however honest, might be sud- 
denly tempted by Satan, and take the next train to liver- 
pool. He felt therefore relieved when Mr. Ruby re- 
entered the room, breathless, with a velvet casket. ' I beg 
pardon, my Lord, a thousand pardons, but I thought I 
would just run over to Lord Topaz, only in the square 
close by. His Lordship is at Madrid, iTae only city one 
cannot depend on communications with by telegraph. 
Spaniards strange people, very prejudiced, take all sorts of 
fancies in their head. Besides, Lord Topaz has more 
pearls than he can know what to do with, and I should 
like your Lordship to see these,' and he opened the casket, 

' Exactly what I want,* exclaimed Lothair ; ' these must 



LOTH AIR. 



175 



tfao TCiy pearia the Qocen of Cypms wore. What ia 
BIT price ? ' 

*Thcy are from Genoa nud belonged to a, Doge,' BaJd Me. 
iby ; ' yoor Lonlsliip sliall Lave them for the sum via 
vo for tbetn. Tbore shall bo no profit on tbo tmnsac- 
in, and wu Hh&ll be proud of it. Wo gave fur them four 
Dnsand gnincna.' 

' I will take them with me,' said Lotbair, who waa 
mid, if he left them behiud, Loi'd Topaz might arrive 

the inter ral. 



CHAPTER XXXrV. 



XH had retnroed home from hin last visit to Delmont 
itated bj many thoaghte, but, genei-ally epeaking, deeply 
ising over ita mistress. Couuidcrablo speculation on 
[igion, the Cburohes, the solar system, the coamical order, 
6 purpose of creation, and the deslioy of riiH.-n, waa 
lintaineil ia his too rapid progi'ess from Roehamptoo 
his Belgravian botol ; bat tbo ossooiatiun of ideas always 
rminated the consideration of every topic by a wondering 
d deeply iatereBting eaqniry when he should Bee her 
ain. And hero, ia order to simplify this narrative, wa 
will at once chronicle the solution of this grave qnestioa. 
On the afternoon of the next day, Lothiiir monnted lua 
with the intention of calling on Lady St. JeiiDnie, 
perhaps some other persons, bat it ia carious to ob. 
that he soon found himself on the road to Roehamp- 
whero be waa in due time payinR a visit to Theodora. 
what is more remarkable is that the same result 
,rred every day afterwards. Begnlarly every Jay be 
»Tisit to Belmont. Nor waa this all ; very often bo 
visits, for bo rcmt^mbcred Iliat in the evening 



176 LOTH AIR. 



Theodora was al'tirajs at borne. Lotliair used io hnny to 
town from his morning visit, dine at some great honm, 
which satisfied the demands of society, and then drive down 
to Boehampton. The guests of the evening saloon, when 
thej witnessed the high ceremony of Lothair*8 manner, 
which was natural to him, when he entered, and the wel- 
come of Theodora, could hardlj believe that a few hours 
only had elapsed since their separation. 

And what was the manner of Theodora to him when they 
were alone ? Precisely as before. She never seemed in the 
least surprised that he called on her every day, or even twice 
a day. Sometimes she was alone, frequently she had com- 
panions, but she was always the same, always appeared 
gratified at his arrival, and always extended to him the 
same welcome, graceful and genial, but without a spark of 
coquetry. Yet she did not afiect to conceal that she took a 
certain interest in him, because she was careful to introduce 
him to distinguished men, and would say, *You should 
know him ; he is master of such a subject. You will hear 
things that you ought to know.' But all this in a sincere 
and straightforward manner. Theodora had not the 
slightest aficctation; she was always natural, though a 
little reserved. But this reserve appeared to be the result 
of modesty rather than of any desire of concealment. When 
they were alone, though always calm, she would talk with 
freedom and vivacity, but in the presence of others she 
rather led to their display, and encouraged them, ofben 
with a certain degree of adroit simplicity, to descant on 
topics whicli interested them, or of which they were com- 
petent to treat. Alone with Lothair, and they were often 
alone, though she herself never obtruded the serious subjects 
round which he was always fluttering, she never avoided 
them, and without involving herself in elaborate arguments, 
or degenerating into conversational controversy, she had a 
habit of asking a question, or expressing a sentiment, whiob 
icreatly afifected his feelings or perplez^d his oDiniona. 



I Had nnt the « 



a been long waning, this change in the 



i 



Lothair mnst have been noticed, i 

iii&telj discovered. Bat the social critics cease to be oV 

servant towoTda the end of July. All the world then are 

thinking of theniaelvea, and have no time tc speculate or 

the fate and fortunes of their neighbours. Tbe camptugn is 

loo near its close ; the balance of the Beason must aoon ha 

stmch, tbe great book of society made. In a few weeka, 

even in a few days, what long and subtle plans shattered 

or trinmphnnt I what prizes gained or missed ! what batBed 

hopes, and what broken hearts! The baHled hopes must 

> Cowes, and the broken hearts to Ba<len. There were 

I great ladies who did remark t!iat Lothair was seldom 

at balls ; and Hugo Bohun, wlia had been stayiug at 

aunt Laily Gertrude's villa for change of air, did say to 

irtrain thut he had met Lothair tivice on Barnes Common, 

anked Bertram if he knew the reoHOn why. But the 

hat Lothair was cruising in waters which their crafl 

entered combined with the lateness of the scaeoa to 

all the ingenuity of Hugo Bobnn, thongh he generally 

;nd out evenrthiag. 

The great difficulty which Lothair had to apprehend was 
ith his Roman Catholic friends. The xystem of the 
lonsigDori WHS never to let him he out of sight, and bis 
abeeoco from the critical function had not only disappointed 
bnt alarmed them. But the Jesuits are wise men; they 
lose their tcnuM-'r. They know when to avoid scones 
well as when to make them. Monsignore Catesby called 
Lotliair Hit frequently as before, and never mode the 
lightest allusion to the miscarriage of their expectations. 
Strange to say, the innocent Lothair, naturally so straight- 
forward and 90 honourable, found himself instinctively, 
almost it might be said unconsciously, defending bimself 
ftgafnat his Invvlers with some of their own weapons. He 
BtQ] t&lkod about building his cathedral, of which, not 



178 LOTH AIR. 



ooutented with mere plans, he even gave orders that a model 
Bhould be made, and he still received statements on points 
of faith from Father Coleman, on which he made marginal 
notes and queries. Monsignore Catesbj was not altogether 
satisfied. He was suspicious of some disturbing cause, but 
at present it baffled him. Their hopes, however, were 
high ; and they had cause to be sanguine. In a month's 
time or so, Lothair would be in the country to celebrate 
his majority; his guardian the Cardinal was to be his 
guest ; the St. Jeromes were invited, Monsigpiore Catesby 
himself. Here would be opportunity and actors to avail 
themselves of it. 

It was a very few days after the first evening visit of 
Tiothair to Belmont that he found himself one morning 
alone with Theodoiti. She was in her bowery boudoir, 
copying some music for Madame Phoebus, at least in the 
intervals of conversation. That had not been of a grave 
character, but the contrary, when Lothair rather abruptly 
said, ' Do you agrea Mrs. Campian, with what Mr. PhoDbus 
said the other night, that the greatest pain must be the 
sense of death ? ' 

'Then mankind is generally spared the greatest pain,* 
she replied, 'for I apprehend few people are sensible of 
death, unless indeed,' she added, ' it be on the field of 
battle ; ind there, I am sure, it cannot be painful.' 

' Not on the field of battle ? ' asked Lothair, inducing her 
to proceed. 

* Well, I should think for all, on the field of battle, there 
must be a degree of excitement, and of sympathetic ex- 
citement, scarcely compatible with overwhelming suffering ; 
but if death wore encountered there for a great cause, I 
should rather associate it with rapture than pain.' 

' But still a good number of persons must die in their 
beds and bo conscious,' said Lothair. 

' It may be, though I should doubt it. The witnesses of 



LOTH AIR. 



179 



b & dcmioe are never impartial. All I have ]oved and 
t have died npon the Geld of battle; and those who havo 
snSbred pais have been those whom they have left behind ; 
and that pain,' abe added with some emotion, ' may perhaps 

Ieerve the description of Mr. Phoebns.' 
Lothair woald not parsao the anbject, and (here was 
Iber an ftwkv.Tird paase. Theodora herself broke it, and 
% lighter vein, thongh recurring to the same theme, she 
id with a ehgiit amUe, * I am scarcely a competent person 
■ consult opon tliin subject, for, to ho candid witli yon, I 
I not myself believe in death. There ia a change, and 
doabtless a great one, painful it may be, certainly very per- 
plering, but I have a profonnd conviction of my immortality, 
and I do not believe that I shall rest in my gi'ave in siecula 
ssBCnlomm, only to be convinced of it by the last trump.' 

' I hope you will not leave this world before 1 do,' nnid 
Lothair; 'but if that sorrow bo reserved for me, promiae 
that to me, if only once, you will reappear.' 

' I doubt whii-ther the departed have tliat power,' said 
Theodorfi, ' or else I think my heroes would have revisited 
1 lost a father more magniSccnt than Jove, and two 
ers brifjlitLT llian Apollo, and all of them passionately 
me, and yet they have not come ; bat I shall see 
, and perhaps soon. So yon see, my dear Lord,' 
»rQ briskly, and rising rather suddenly from her 
' that for my part I think it beat to arrange all that 
IDCcrQB one in this world while one inhabits it ; and this 
A me that I have a httle buHiricss to fiilGl in which 
o help me,' and she opened a cabinet and took ont a 
it antique case, and then said, resuming her seat at her 
Ible, ' Som© one, and anonymously, has made mo a 
^ificent proi^ent ; some strings of costly pearls. I am 
Mtly embarmaaed with them, for I never wear pearls or 
Bjihing olse, and I never wish to accept presenbi. To 
ViMli them to an unknown is out of my power, bat it ia 



i8o LOTH AIR. 



not impossible that I may some day become acqn&iiited 
with the donor. I wish them to be kept in safety, and 
therefore not by myself, for my life is subject to too great 
vicissitudes. I have therefore placed them in this case, 
which I shall now seal and entrust them to your care, as a 
friend in whom I have entire confidence. See,' she said, 
lighting a match, and opening the case, ' here are the pearls, 
are they not snperb ? and here is a note which will tell yon 
what to do with them in case of my absence, when yon 
open the case, which wiU not be for a year from this day. 
There, it is locked. I have directed it to yon, and I wiU 
seal it with my father's seal.' 

Lothair was about to speak. ' Do not say a word,' she 
said ; * this seal is a religious ceremony with me.' Sbe 
was some little time fulfilling it, so that the impression 
might be deep and clear. She looked at it earnestly while 
the wax was cooling, and then she said, ' I deliver the 
custody of this to a friend whom I entirely trust. Adieu !' 
and she disappeared. 

The amazed Lothair glanced at the seal. It was a single 
word, ' RoHA,' and then, utterly mystified, he returned to 
town with his own present. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 



Mr. pH(EBns had just finished a picture which he had 
painted for the Emperor of Russia. It was to depart im- 
mediately from England for its northern home, except that 
his Imperial Majesty had consented that it should be ex- 
hibited for a brief space to the people of England. This 
was a condition which Mr. Phoebus had made in the in- 
terests of art, and as a due liomage alike to his own 
patriotism and celebrity. 



LOTIIAIR. i8i 

There waa tu be a privnte inapection of the picture at 
ihe Btttdto of the artist, and Mr. Phoebus had invited Lotbair 
to attend it. Oar fiiend had accordiuglj, on the appoinlod 
day, drireo 6owa to Belmont, and then walked to the reai- 
denoe of Mr. Phcebus with Colonel Campian and his wife. 
It waa B Bhort and pretty walk, entirely through the royal 
park, wliicb the occupiers of Belmont had the traditionary 
privilege thgs to use. 

The residence of Mr. Phcebna was convenient and agree- 
able, and in situation not unlike that of Belmont, boini;; 
^Ivan aud sequestered. He bad himself erected a finb 
Etndio, and added it to the original building. The flower 
giarden was bright and curious, and on the lawn was a 
tent of many colours designed by himReir, and which 
might Lave suited some splendid field of chivalry. Upon 
gilt and painted percliea also there were paroquets and 
macaws. 

Lothair on his arrival fonnd many gaests assembled, 
chiefly on the lawn. Mr Phcebus was highly esteemed, 
and had distinguished and eminent friends, whose constant 
courtesies the present occasion allowed him elegantly to 
acknowledge. There was a polished and grey-headed noblo 
who waa the lioad of the patrons of art in England, whoso 
nod of approbation sometimes made the fortune of a young 
artist, and whose parchase of pieturCH for the nation even 
the foriotis cognoscenti of the House of Commons dared 
not questioa. Some of the finest works of Mr. Phoibus 
were to be found in his gallery ; but Ins Lordship admired 
Madame Phcebus even more than her husband's works, and 
Enphrosyne aa much as licr sister. It waa sometimes 
thought, among their friends, that this young lady hrul 
only to decide in order to sharo the widowed coronet j but 
Enphrosyne laughed at everything, even her adorers ; and 
while her witching mockery only rendered them more, 
(ascioated, it ofiou prcvcnl«d critical declarations. 



1 82 LOTH AIR. 



And Lady Beatrice was there, herself au artisti and full 
of fBsthetical enthnsiasm. Her hands were beautiful, and 
she passed her life in modelling them. And Gecrops was 
there, a rich old bachelor, with, it was supposed, the finest 
collection of modem pictures extant. His theory was, thai 
a man could not do a wiser thing than invest the whole of 
his fortune in such securities, and it delighted him to tell 
his numerous nephews and nieces that he should, in all 
probability, leave his collection to the nation. 

Glorinda, whose palace was always open to genius, and 
who delighted in the society of men who had discovered 
planets, excavated prim»val mounds, painted pictures on 
new principles, or composed inmiortal poems which no 
human being could either scan or construe, but which she 
recognised as ' subtle ' and fall of secret melody, came lean- 
ing on the arm of a celebrated plenipotentiary, and beaming 
with sympathy on every subject, and with the consciousness 
of her universal charms. 

And the accomplished Sir Francis was there, and several 
R.A.S of eminence, for Phoebus was a true artist and loved 
the brotherhood, and always placed them in the post of 
honour. 

No language can describe the fascinating costume of 
Madame Phcebus and her glittering sister. 'They are 
habited as sylvans,' the great artist deigned to observe, if 
any of his guests could not refrain from admiring the 
dresses which he had himself devised. As for the venerable 
patron of art in Britain, he smiled when he met the lady 
of the house, and sighed when he glanced at Euphrosyne ; 
but the first gave him a beautiful flower, and the other 
fastened it in his buttonhole. He looked like a victim 
bedecked by the priestesses of some old fane of Hellenic 
loveliness, and proud of his impending fistte. What could 
the Psalmist mean in the immortal passage P Threescore 
and ten, at the present day, is the period of romantio 



I 



LOTHA IR. 
r cmunoured aexs 



183 



As for our cmunoured aexagen&niiDa, they avenge 

rie« of DOT cold-hearted yoath. 

boebus was on eminent host. It delighted him to 

people pleased, and pleased ander his influence. He 

a belief, not witbout foimdation, that everything wk£ 

better under his roof than under that of any other 

1. The hanqnct in the air on the present occasion 

Id only be done jnstico to by the courtly ptuntera of 

reign of Louis XV. Vanloo, and Watteau, and Lancra 

lid have caught tho graceful groups, and the wuU- 

iged colours, and the faces, some pretty, some a littlo 

ated ; tlie ladies on fantastic cliatrs of wicker-work, gilt 

onriously painted ; the gentlemen, reclining on the 

bending behind them with watohfnl car«. The 

le tables, all diOereiit, the soups in delicate caps tst 

Sevrea, tho wines in golden glass of Venice, the ortolans, 

the Italian confectionary, the bright bouquets, were worthy 

of the soft aud invisible music that resounded from the 

pavilion, only varied by the coqaetish scream of some 

macaw, jealous amid all this novelty and ezcitement of not 

being noticed. 

It is asceneof enchantment,' whispered the chief patron 
British art to Madame Phcobns. 
1 alnuys think luncheon in the air rather jolly,' said 



' It is perfect romance ! ' munnnred tho chief patron of 
Bi-itish art to Enphrosyno. 

■ Willi a doe admixture of reality,' she said, helping him 
to an euormoua ti-ulUe, which slie extracted from its nap- 
kin. ' YoQ know you must eat it with batter.' 

Lothair was glad to obBci've that, though in refined 
cioty, none were present with whom he had any previons 
sqanintonce, for he hud an instinctive fooling that i( Hugo 
n hnd been there, or Bertram, or the Duke of Brecon, 
r any litdics with whom he was familiarly acquainted, hs 



1 84 LOTH AIR. 



would soarcelj have been able to avail himself of the sociefy 
of Theodora with the perfect freedom which he now enjoyed. 
Thej would all have been asking who she was, where she 
came from, how long Lothair had known her: all those ques- 
tions, kind and neighbourly, which under such circumstances 
occur. He was in a distinguished circle, but one different 
from that in which he lived. He sat next to Theodora, 
and Mr. Phoebus constantly hovered about them, ever doing 
something very graceful, or saying something very bright. 
Then he would whisper a word to the great Clorinda, who 
flashed intelligence from her celebrated eyes, and then he 
made a suggestion to the ABsthetical Lady Beatrice, who 
immediately fell into enthusiasm and eloquence, and took 
the opportunity of displaying her celebrated hands. 

The time had now arrived when they were to repair to 
the studio and view the picture. A curtain was over it, 
and then a silken rope across the chamber, and then some 
chairs. The subject of the picture was Hero and Leander, 
chosen by the heir of all the Russias himself, during a late 
visit to England. 

* A fascinating subject,' said old Cecrops to Mr. Phoebus, 
* but not a very original one.' 

* The originality of a subject is in its treatment,' was the 
reply. 

The theme, in the present instance, was certainly not 
conventionally treated. When the curtain was withdrawn, 
they beheld a figure of life-like size, exhibiting in un- 
disguised completeness the perfection of the female form, 
and yet the painter had so skilfully availed himself of the 
shadowy and mystic hour and of some gauze-like drapery, 
which veiled without concealing his design, that the 
chastest eye might gaze on his heroine with impunity. The 
splendour of her upstretched arms held high the beacon 
light, which threw a glare upon the sublime anxiety of her 
countenance, while all the tumult of the Hellespont, the 






LOniAtR. IBS 

wavca, the scaddin^ sky, tho oppoeite shore revcftlod by n 
blood-red floHb, were touched by tLe h&ud of a master who 
never fftiled. 
The applao&e vas a geuuine verdict, and tlie company 
a time t>egan to disperse about the house and gardens, 
email circle remained, and passing the Bilkcn rope, 
Ajiproached aod narronly scrutinised the picture. Among 
tliese were Theodora and Lothair, the chief jmtion of 
Iritisb art, an R.A. or two, Clorinda, and lady Beatrice. 
Mr. Pho-'buB, who left tlie atndio but !<iul now returned, 
not disturb them. After awhile he apfn-oached the 
p. Hia air was elate, and was redeemed only from 
arrogance by the intellect of his brow. Tbe circle started 
s little as they Iicard liis voice, for they bad been unaware 
c»f bis presence. 

To-morrow,' he stud, ' the ontics will oommence. Yon 
>w who the critics ai-e ? The men who have failed in 




CHAPTEK XXXVI. 



The lodge-gute of Belmont was opening as Tjothair one 

morning approached it; a Hansom cub came forth, and in 

it was a person whoso countenance was strongly marked 

on t}io memory of Lothair. It was that of his unknown 

— iriend at the fc'cnian meeting, Lothair instantly recognised 

U)d cordially saluted him, and his greeting, though hur- 

', was not ungraciously returned ; but the vehicle did 

Pilot stop. Lothair called to the driver to halt, but tlie 

driver on tlie contrary stimulated Lis steed, and in the 

winding bine was soon out of sight, 

J Tlieodora was not immediately visible. She was neither 

^^Bili bcr usual apartment nor in her garden ; but it was only 



186 LOTH AIR. 



perhaps because Lothair was so full of his own impreflskmfi 
from his recent encocmter at the lodge, that he did not 
observe that the demeanour of Mrs. Campian when she 
appeared was hardlj marked by her habitual serenity. She 
entered the room hurriedlj, and spoke with quickness. 

'Praj,' exclaimed Lothair, rather eagerly, 'do tell ma 
the name of the gentleman who has just called here.' 

Theodora changed colour, looked distressed, and was 
silent ; unobserved however by Lothair, who, absorbed by 
his own highly excited curiosity, proceeded to explain why 
he presumed to press for the information. ' I am under 
great obligations to that person ; I am not sure I may not 
say I owe him my life, but certainly an extrication from 
great danger and very embarrassing danger too. I never 
saw him but once, and he would not give me his name, and 
scarcely would ac.'cept my thanks. I wanted to stop hie 
cab to-day, but it was impossible. He literally galloped 
off.' 

* He is a foreigner,' said Mrs. Campian, who had re- 
covered herself; ' he was a particular friend of my dear 
father ; and when he visits England, which he does occa- 
sionally, he calls to see us.' 

' Ah ! ' said Lothair, * I hope I shall soon have an op> 
portunity of expressing to him my gratitude.' 

' It was so like him not to give his name and to shrink 
from thanks,' said Mrs. Campian. ' He never enters society, 
and makes no acquaintances.' 

' I am sorry for that,' said Lothair, * foi it is not only 
that he served me, but I was much taken with him, and 
felt that he was a person I should like to cultivate.' 

* Tes, Captain Bruges is a remarkable man,' said Theo- 
dora ; * he is not one to be forgotten.' 

' Captain Bruges. That then is his name ?' 
' He is known by the name of Captain Bruges,' said 
Theodora, and she hesitated ; and then speaking more 



LOTH AIR. 



187 



quickl; eho added, *1 cannot sanction, I camiot bear, any 
dcneptioa between yon and tliia roof. Bruges is not hia 
nai name, nor is the title he aBsuiues lijs real raiik. He is 
not to be known, and not to be spoken of. Ue ia one, and 
one of tlio most emiuenl, of t)ic great family of sufforerB in 
this world, bat sufferers for a divine cause. I mysolf have 
beiin direly stricken in tliia stmggle. When I remember 
tlie de[iai't«d, it is not always easy to boar tbe thought. I 
ke«p it at the bottom of my heart; but this visit to-duy him 
too terribly revived everything. It ia well thiit you ouly 
ore here to witness my suffering, but you will not have to 
witueea it again, for we will never again speak of these 
matters.' 

Lotbair was mnch touched : his good Iteart and his good 
taat« alike dissuaded him &om attempting commonplace 
eoDSoIaUon. He ventured to take her hand and pressed it 
to Ilia lipa. ' Dear lady ! ' he murmured, and he led her to 
a seat. * I fear my foolish tattle has added to pain which 
I would gladly bear for yon.' 

They talked about nothings; about a now horse which 
Colouel Caropian had just purchased, and which he wanted 
to show to Lothair ; an old opera revived, but which sounded 
ntther flat ; something amusing that somebody had said, 
and Bomutliing absurd which somebody had done. And 
then, when the ruffled feeling had been quite composed, and 
all had been brought back to tbe tenor of their uanal ptun* 
aant life, lrf>(!iairBaid sadUonly and iiither gaily, 'And now, 
dearmt lady, 1 have a favour tu luik. You know my 
majority ia to be achieved and to be celebrated next month. 
I hope that yooraelf and Colonel Campian will honour ma 
by being my gnoata.' 

Theodora did not at all look like a lady who had received 
a social attention of tlie moat distinguished class. She 
looked embarrassed, and began to murmur aomothing about 
Colonel Campiau, and their never gouig into society. 



i88 LOTH AIR. 

^Colonel Campian is going to Scotland, and yon are 
going with him,* said Lothair. * I know it, for he told me 
so, and said he could manage the visit to me, if yon ap- 
proved it, quite well. In fact it will fit in with his Scotch 
visit.* 

* There was some talk once abont Scotland,' said Theo> 
dora, ' but that was a long time ago. Many things have 
happened since then. I do not think the Scotch visit 
is by any means so settled as you think.' 

' But however that may be decided,' said Lothair, ' thefc 
can be no reason why yon should not come to me.' 

' It is presumptuous in me, a foreigner, to speak of such 
matters,' said Theodora ; ' but I flEmcy that, in such cele- 
brations as you contemplate, there is, or there should be, 
some qualification of blood or fieunily connection for be- 
coming your gues*is. We should be there quite strangers, 
and in everybody's way, checking the local and domestic 
ahand(yii which I should suppose is one of the charms of 
such meetings.' 

* I have few relations and scarcely a connection,' said 
Lothair, rather moodily. ' I can only ask friends to cele- 
brate my majority, and there are no friends whom I so 
much regard as those who live at Belmont.' 

' It is very kind of you to say that, and to feel it ; and j 
know that you would not say it if you did not feel it,' replied 
Theodora. ' But still, I think it would be better that we 
should come to see you at a time when you are less en- 
gaged ; perhaps you will take Colonel Campian down some 
day and give him some shooting.' 

* All I can say is tliat, if you do not come, it will be the 
darkest, instead of the brigh^ st, week in my life,' said, 
Lothair. ' lu short, I feel I could not get through the 
business, I should be so mortified. I cannot restrain my 
feelings or arrange my countenance. Unless you come, the 
whole affair will be a complete fieulure, and worse than a 
failure.' 



r 



LOTHAIR. 189 

* Well, I will Bpeuk to Colonel Carapion abont it,' said 
Theodora, bat with little aDimntion. 

' We will both Bpeiik to Lim about it now,' said Lothair, 
for the Colonel at that moment entered the roora and 
greeted Lothair, as was his custom, cordially. 

'We are settling the visit to Muriel,' said Lothair; 'I 
want to ir.duce Mrs. Campinn to cume down a day or two 
before the rest, so tlmt we may have the benetit uf her 
cotmscl.' 



CHAPTER XXXVTI. 



k 



McRtBL ToivEKs crowned a wooded steep, part of a wild and 
winJtDg and BylvRn valley at the bottom of which mshed 
a foaming gtrewn. On the oilier aide of the castle the 
Kcenc, thongli extensive, was not less striking, and was 
cdsenttally romantic. A vast park spread in all directiona 
beyond Iho limit of the eye, and with mneh variety of 
character, ornate near the mansion, and choicely timbered j 
in other parts glens and spreailing della, ma-sses of bia«k 
pines and savage woods ; everywhero, BomctimeB glittering 
and sometimes sullen, glimpses of the largest natnral lake 
that inland England boasts, UuRTEL Mgrb, and in the 
extreme distance moora, and the first creat of monntains. 
The park, too, was fiill of life, for there were not only herds 
of red and fallow deer, but, in it« more secret hanntfl, 
wandered a rate of wild cattle, extremely savage, whit« 
Knd dove- coloured, and said to be of tho time of the 
Romans, 

It wtiA not without emotion that Lothair beheld tho chief 
rent of his race. It was not the first time he had visited it. 
He had a clear and painful recollection of a hrieC hnrried, 
tudtind glimpse eanght of it in his very earliest boyhood. 



IQO 



LOTH AIR. 



His ancle had taken him there by some inconvenient 
railroad, to avail themselves of which they had risen in the 
dark on a March morning, and in an east wind. When 
they arrived at their station they had hired an open fly 
drawn by a single horse, and when they had thus at last 
reached the uninhabited Towers, they entered by the offices, 
where Lothair was placed in the steward's room, by a 
smoky fire, given something to eat, and told that he might 
walk about and amuse himself, provided he did not go out 
of sight of the castle, while his uncle and the steward 
mounted their horses and rode over the estate; leaving 
Lothair for hours without companions, and returning just 
in time, in a shivering twUight, to clutch him up, as it 
wore, by the nape of the neck, twist him back again into 
the one-horse fly, and regain the railroad ; his uncle praising 
himself the whole time for the satisfactory and business- 
like manner in which he had planned and completed the 
expedition. 

What a contrast to present circumstances! Although 
Lothair had wished, and thought he had secured, that his 
arrival at Muriel should be quite private and even un- 
known, and that all ceremonies and celebrations should be 
postponed for a few days, during which he hoped to become 
a little more familiar with his home, the secret could not 
be kept, and the county would not tolerate this reserve. 
He was met at the station by five hundred horsemen all 
well mounted, and some of them gentlemen of high degree, 
who insisted upon accompanying him to his gates. His 
carriage passed under triumphal arches, and choirs of 
enthusiastic children, waving parochial banners, hymned 
his auspicious approach. 

At the park-gates his cavalcade quitted him with that 
delicacy of feeling which always distinguishes Englishmen, 
however rough their habit. As their attendance was self- 
invited, they would not intrude upon his home. 



LOTHAIR. iqi 

' VoBT Lordship will have enongh to do to-day without 
being troobled with ns,' said their leader as he shoelc 
Lands with Lothair. 

But Lothair would not part with thetn thus. With the 
inspiring recollection of hia speech at the Feoian meeting, 
Lotliair was not afraid of rising in his barouche and 
addressing thenu What he said waa said very well, and 
it wan addressed to a people who, thongh the Tihyent in the 
world, have a passion for puhliu speaking, than which no 
achievement more testa reserve. It was something to bo a 
great peer and a great propriotor, and to be young aisd 
singularly well-favoured ; but to be able to make a Hpeecii, 
and Bnch a good one, such cordial words in so strong and 
moaical a voice : all felt at once they were in the presenoo 
of the natural leatler of the county. The enthusiiuim of 
the hunting-field burst forth. They gave him throe ringing 
cheers, and jostled their horeca forward that they might 
grasp hia hand. 

The park-gnlen were open, and the postih'ons dashed 
alung through scenes of loveliness on whieh Lothair would 
(ain have lingered, but he consoled himself with the recol. 
loctioD that ho should probably have an opportunity ut 
Hioiug them again. Bometimea his carriage aeomed in the 
hoart of an ancient forest ; sometimes the deer, slorttcdat hia 
approach, were scudding over expanding lawns; then his 
course wound by the margin of a Binoiua lake with green 
inlands atsd golden gondolas; and then, aft«r adi'ancing 
through alftluly avenues, he nrriveil nt mighly giifes of 
wondrous workmanship, that onoe had been the hojistof* 
celcbratwl convent ou the Danube, but which, in the days 
of revolutions, had rwiched England, and had been obtained 
by the grandfathor of Lothair to guard the choice domosue 
that w»a tho vicinage oF hia oaatle. 

Wlieii we roniombcr (hat Lothair, notwithstAnding liis 
mnk and viiat wealth, hod ntiver, IVom tho nature of thingi^ 




192 LOTH AIR. 



been tbe master of an establislimenfc, it mnst be admittod 
that the present occasion was a little trying for his nervaa 
The whole hoosehold of the Towers wero arrayed and 
arranged in groups on the steps of the chief entranoei 
The steward of the estate, who had been one of the 
cavalcade, had galloped on before, and he was of conrse the 
leading spirit, and extended his arm to his Lord as Lothair 
descended from his carriage. The honse-steward, the chief 
butler, the head-gardener, the chief of the kitchen, the 
head-keeper, the head-forester, and grooms of the stad and 
of the chambers, formed one gronp behind the housekeeper, 
a grave and distinguished-looking female, who curtseyed 
like the old court; half a dozen powdered gentlemen, 
glowing in crimson liveries, indicated the presence of my 
Lord's footmen; while the rest of the household, con- 
siderable in numbers, were arranged in two groups, accord- 
ing to their sex, and at a respectful distance. 

Wliat struck Lothair (who was always thinking, and 
who had no inconsiderable fund of humour in his sweet 
and innocent nature) was the wonderful circumstance that, 
after so long an interval of neglect and abeyance, he should 
find himself the master of so complete and consummate a 
household. 

* Castles and parks,' he thought, * I had a right to count 
on, and, perhaps, even pictures, but how I came to possess 
snch a work of art as my groom of the chambers, who 
seems as respectfully haughty and as calmly graceful as if 
he were at Brentham itself, and whose coat must have been 
made in Saville flow, quite bewilders me.* 

But Lothair, though he appreciated Putney Giles, had 
not yet formed a full conception of the resource and all 
accomplished providence of that wondrous man, acting 
under the inspiration of the consummate Apollonia. 

Passing through the entrance hall, a lofty chamber 
though otherwise of moderate dimensions Lothair waa 



LOTHAIR. 



"93 



oshered into bis annanry, a gnllcry two Imndrcd feet long, 
with snita of complete ideu] mngoii on eaeh side, and the 
walls othcrwiae covered with rare and curious weapons. 
It was impossible, eren for the muster of this collection, to 
snppress the deUght and the surprise with which he beheld 
the Bceoe. Wo mnat remember, in his eicnse, that ho 
beheld it for the first time. 

The armoniy led to a large and lofly octagonal chamber, 
highly douorated, in the centre of wliich was the tomb of 
Lothair's grandfather. He had raised it in hia lifetime. 
Tbv tomb was of alabaster sarronuded by a railing of pare 
gold, and crowned with a reonmbent figure of the dccemied 
in hia coronet; a fanciful man, who lived in Bolitnde, 
bailding castles and making gardens. 

What charmed Lothair most oa he proceeded wore the 
nnmber of courts and qaadrangles in the castle, all of 
bright and iactastic architecture, and each of which waa a 
garden, glowing with brilliant coloars, and guy with the 
Toioo of fonntains or the forms of gorgeous birds. Our 
young frieod did not soon weary in hia progress; even the 
suggmtions of the eUiward, that his Lordship's luncheon 
was at command, did not restraiD him. Ball-rooms, and 
baronial boils, and long libraries with curiously stained 
windows, and suites of dazzling saloons where be beheld 
the onginal portraits of his parents of which he had miniaf 
tares j he saw thorn all, and was pleased and interested. 
_Bnt what most struck and even astonished him was the 
itablo air which pervaded tlio whole of this enormous 
ictnre ; too rare even when families habitually reside in 
dwethngs ; but abnost inconceivahle, when it was to 
remembered that more than a generation had passed 
without a human being living in these splendid chambers, 
aoarccly a human word being spoken in them. Tliere was 
rcfincmoDt of modem furniture that was wanting,* 



B ut 

^b»t 



194 LOTH AIR. 

eTen the tablos were ODvered with the choicest pablicatiooB 
of the day. 

' Mr. Patney Giles proposes to arrive here to-moROW,* 
said the steward. * He thought your Lordship would like 
to be a day or two alone.' 

' Ho is the most sensible man I know/ said Lothair ; * lie 
always does the right thing. I think I will haye n^ 
luncheon now, Mr. Harvey, and I will go over the oellan 
to-morrow.* 



CHAPTER XXXVra. 



7es ; Lothair wished to be alone. He had naturally a 
love of solitude, but the events of the last few hours lent 
an additional inducement to meditation. He was impressed 
in a manner and degree not before experienced with the 
greatness of liis inheritance. His worldly position, until 
to-day, had been an abstraction. After all he had only 
been one of a crowd, which he resembled. But the sight 
3f this proud and abounding territory, and the unexpected 
encounter with his neighbours, brought to him a sense of 
power and of responsibility. He shrank from neither. 
The world seemed opening to him with all its delights, and 
with him duty was one. He was also sensible of the beau- 
tiful, and the surrounding forms of nature and art charmed 
him. Let us not forget that extreme youth and perfect health 
were ingredients not wanting in the spell any more than 
power or wealth. Was it then complete ? Not without 
the influence of woman. 

To that gentle yet mystical sway the spirit of Lothair 
had yielded. What was the precise character of his feel- 
inga to Theodora, what were his hopes or views, he had 
bitherto had neither the time nor the inclination to make 



LOTH AIR. 



'95 



Tbe present was so deltgbtfal, vxd the enjojr- 
mt of ber socielj tad been ao oonsunt and complete, 
. ho bad ever driveii the future fi^m bis coiuiiden- 
Had tbe conduol of Theodora been different, had ebe 
^ed to practise od his affections, appealed to hia seo- 
sibility, atimolated or piqaed his ranity, it might have 
b«en otherwise. In tbe distraction of bis heftrt, or tbe 
distnrbanue of bia temper, he might bave arrived at con- 
clasions, and even expressed tbem, incompatible with tbe 
exquisite and even snblime friendship, which bad so 
strangely and beautifully arisen, like a palace in a dream, 
and absorbed bis being. Although their acquaintance 
Conld hardly be nnmbcred by months, there was no bving 
persor of whom he liad seen bo much, or to whom he had 
opened his beaj't and mind with ancb profase ingennons- 
ness. Nor on her part, though apparently Hhrinldng 
&om egotiBm, bad there ever been any intellectna] reserve. 
On tbe contrary, although never antboritative, and even 
when toaching on her convictions, suggesting rather than 
dictating them, Ijotbair conld not but feel that during the 
happy period he had passed in her society, not only bis 
taste bad rcSncd bat his mind bad considerably opened ; 
his views had become larger, his sympathies had expanded; 
be ooneidered with obarity things and even persons &om 
vrbom a year ago he would bave recoiled with alarm or 
•version. 

The time during which Theodora had been bis com- 
panion was tbe happiest period of his life. It was more 
than thai ; he conld conceive no felicity greater, and all 
Ihat he desired was that it should endure. Since they 
first met, scarcely four and twenty hours had passed with- 
oui his being in her presence ; and now, notwithstanding 
tbe novelty end the variety of the objects around him, and 
■ the vast, and nrgeut, and personal interest which tbey in- 
Dlred, he felt a want which meeting her, or the daily 



196 LOTHAIR. 



prospect of meeting her, conld alone supply. Her voioe 
lingered in his ear ; he gazed npon a conntenance invisible 
to others ; and he scarcely saw or did anything withoat 
almost unconsciously associating with it her opinion or 
approbation. 

Well, then, the spell was complete. The fitfulness or 
melancholy which so often are the doom of youth, how- 
ever otherwise favoured, who do not love, were not the 
condition, capricious or desponding, of Lothair. In him 
combined all the accidents and feelings whioh enchant 
existence. 

He had been rambling in the solitudes of his park, and 
had thrown himself on the green shadow of a stately tree, 
his cheek resting on his arm, and lost in reverie amid the 
deep and sultry silence. Wealthy and young, noble and 
full of noble thoughts, with the inspiration of health, sur- 
rounded by the beautiful, and his heart softened by feel- 
ings as exquisite, Lothair, nevertheless, could not refrain 
from pondering over the mystery of that life which seemed 
destined to bring to hiyi only delight. 

* Life would be perfect,' he at length exclaimed, * if it 
would only last.' But it will not hkst ; and what then P 
He could not reconcile interest in this life with the convic- 
tion of another, and an eternal one. It seemed to him that, 
with such a conviction, man could have only one thought 
and one occupation, the future, and preparation for it. 
With such a conviction, what they called reality appeared 
to him more vain and nebulous than the scenes and sights 
of sleep. And he had that conviction ; at least he had it 
once. Had he it now ? Yes ; he had it now, but modified 
perhaps ; in detail. He was not so confident as he was a 
few months ago, that he could be ushered by a Jesuit from 
his deathbed to the society of St. Michael and all Hiq 
Angels. There might be long processes of initiation, in- 
termediate states of higher probation and refinement 



LOTH AIR. 



197 



rbere miglit be a liorrible and apathetic panse. Wbeii 
f ogve appeared to be necesaaiy to matare the 
cmst of a rather insigniticant planet, it might be presump- 
tion ia man to aasnme that his soul, thongh immortal, waa 
to reach its final destination, rej^.irdlogs of all the inSnenues 
^— of space and time. 

^K And the philoBophera and diatingniahed men of science 
^^Mth whom of late he had fi'equeutlj enjoyed the oppor- 
^Uonity of becoming acquainted, what were their views P 
They ditlered among them^elvea : did any of them agree 
irith him ? How they acconnted for everythbig except the 
c olj point on which man requires revelation ! Chance, 
esaity, atomic theoriea, nebniar hypotheses, de»elop- 
Knt, evolution, the origin of worlds, human ancestry ; 
) high topics on none of which was there lack 
f argament; and, in a certain sense, of evidence; and 
t then ? There must be design. The reasoning and 
) research of all philoaophy could not he valid i^ainst 
lat COnvictioQ. If there were no design, why, it would 
bo nonsense ; and he could not believe in nouHensc. 
bnd if there wore design, there must be intelligence ; and 
jt intelligence, pure intelligence ; and pure intelligence was 
wasistent wilh any disposition but perfect good. But 
L the all-wise and the alUbenevoleut and man, 
wrding to the now philoBophers, no relations were to bo 
r longer acknowledged. They renounce in despair the 
isifaility of bringing man into connexion with that First 
which they can neither explain nor deny. But 
1 reqaires that there shall be direct relations between 
I created and the Creator ; and that in those relations 
t should find a solution of the perplexities of exiatencQ. 
The bmin that teems with iiiimitablo thought will never 
ncogntse as his creator any power of nature, however 
irresistible, that ia not gifted with consciousness. Atheism 
Uy lie copsistent with fiuo taste, and fine taste under 



Etr 
lai 




nrtain oonditioDB maj for « tune r^oIaW a |M)lished 
BOcie^ ; bat elbJce with atheism are impossible ; and vnth- 
out ethics do hamaii order can bo stroog or permanent. 

The Church comes forward, and, without eqni vocation, 
oBers to establish direct relations between Ood and man. 
PhUoBophy denies its title, and disputes ita power. Why ? 
Because they are fnondad on the snpematDral. What is 
the snperDatnral f Can there bo anything mora nurocnloaa 
than the existence of man and the world ? anything more 
literally eupematoral than the origin of things ? The 
Church explains what no one else pretends to ezpliun, and 
which, everyone agrees, it ia of first moment should be 
made clear. 

The clouds of a summer eve were glowing in Uie creative 
and flickering hlnze of the vanished snn, that had p&sscxi 
like a monarch from the admiring sight, yet left his pomp 
behind. The golden and umber vapours fell into fonns 
that to the eye of the musing Loth^ depicted the objecta 
of his frequent meditation. There seemed to rise in the 
horizon the dome and campaniles and lofty aisles of some 
celestial fane, such as he had often more than dreamed of 
raising to the revealed author of hfe and death. Altars 
arose and saored slirioea, and delicate chantries and fretted 
Bpii«s ; now the Bashing phantom of heavenly choirs, aiid 
then the dim response of cowled and earthly ceaobitce : 

Thna us black Vopei's pogauita I 




CHAPTER XXXIX. 

a quilfl glad to see Mr. Putney Giiea. That 
gentlenmn iadcMl was na aniverenl favourite. Ue waa in- 
telligent, aeqaainted with everything oscept theology and 
nietnphjsica, lihed to oblige, ft little to putixinisc. never 
made difScnltins, and nlways ovorcumie them. Hia bright 
bine eye, open forehead, and sunny face indicated a man 
fall of resource, and with a temper of naturn,! Hwcetnosa. 

The lawyer and his noble client bad a groat deal of 

business to transact. Lothair was to know bia position in 

I ddail preparatory to releasing his guardians from their 

^■fBiponsibilitios, and assuming the manngoment of bis own 

^■ftjrs. Mr. Putney Giles was a first-rate man of businesa. 

^^P^th all hia pleiLsant, easy manner lie was precise and 

^^Itethodical, and was not content that hia client should be 

bta master of hia own aS'iura th&n hia lawyer. The rnoni- 

itga passed over a table covered vrith despatch-boxes and 

piles of ticketed and banded papers, and then they looked 

after the workmen wlio were preparing for the impending 

festivals;, or rode over the eatjilo. 

* That is onr weak point,' said Mr. Putney Giles, point- 
ing to a distant part of the valley. ' We ought to have 
both sidea of the valley. Ynur Lordahip will have to con- 
sider whether yott can devote the 200,0002. of the second 
and extinct trust to a better purpose than in obtaining 
that estate,' 

Lothair had always destined that particular sum for the 

ciLthedral, the raiaing of which was to have been the first 

achievement of his majority ; but he did not reply. 

I In a few diiys the guetita began to arrive, but gradually. 

pTbo Duke and Duchess anil Lady Corisande came the first, 



^Ttio 



I 



I 



20O LOTH AIR. 



and were one day alone with Lothair, for Mr. Patney Qiles 
had departed to fetch ApoUonia. 

Lothair was nnaffectedly gratified at not only receiving 
hill Mends at his own castle, hut nnder these circumstances 
of intimacy. They had heen the first persons who had 
been kind to him, and he really loved the whole &mily. 
They arrived rather late, but he would show them to ih&r 
rooms, and they were choice ones, himself, and then they 
dined together in the small green dining-room. Nothing 
could be more graceful or more cordial than the whob 
afiair. The Duchess seemed to beam with affectionato 
pleasure as Lothair fulfilled his duties as their host ; tie 
Duke praised the claret, and he seldom praised anything ; 
while Lady Gorisande only regp^tted that the impendiig 
twilight had prevented her from seeing the beautiful coxoi- 
try, and expressed lively interest in the morrow's inspic- 
tion of the castle and domain. Sometimes her eyes ncet 
those of Lothair, and she was so happy that she unccn- 
sciously smiled. 

' And to-morrow,' said Lothair, * I am delighted to saf , 
we shall have to ourselves ; at least all the morning. We 
will see the castle first, and then, after luncheon, we wii 
drive about everywhere.' 

* Everywhere,' said Gorisande. 

' It was very nice your asking us first, and alone,' said 
the Duchess. 

'It was very nice you coming, dear Duchess,' said 
Lothair, ' and most kind, as you ever are to me.' 

' Duke of Brecon is coming to you on Thursday,' said 
the Duke ; ' he told me so at White's.' 

* Perhaps you would like to know. Duchess, whom you 
are going to meet,' said Lothair. 

' I should much like to hear. Pray tell us.' 
' It is a rather formidable array,* said Lothair, and he 
took out a paper. ' First, there are all the notables of the 



E 



inntf. 1 do not know any of them peraonally, so 1 
roto (o each of them a letter, as well aa sending them a 
formnl inrilation. I tbonght that was riffht.' 

■Quite right,' said the Dacheas. 'Nothing could be 

' Well, the tirst person, of conrse, is the Lord LieutenanL 
llo is coming.' 

By the bye, let me see, who is yonr lord lieutenant ? ' 
id the Duke. 
Lord A gram on t.' 
To be Bnro. I was at college with him, a very good 



, escept once at 
aw a man so red and grey, and I 
xl-looking fellow 1 Ho mnat have 
wmntry, and never thonght of his 
a a tone o^ pity, and playing with 



; bnt I have t 
Boodle's; and I never f 
remember him such a go 
lived immensely in tho i 
person,' eaid the Duke 1 
his monstache. 

' Is there a Lady Agramont ? ' enquired tho Dachess. 
' Oh yes ! and she also hononra me with her jiroEonce,' 
nid Lothair. 

' And who was Lady Agramont ? ' 

' Oh I his consin,' said the Dnlto, 'The Agramonta 
always marry their coasina. His father did the same 
thing. They are so shy. It is a family that never was in 
society and never will be. I was at Agramont Castle onca 
when I was at college, and I never siiall forget it. We 
nsed to sit down forty or Bfty every day to dinner, entirely 
kiden snnts and clergymen, and that sort of thing. How- 
•, I ahall be truly glad to see Agramont again, for, not- 
hthatanding all these disadvantages, he ia a Ihoraoghly 
a fellow.' 
'Then there is the High Sheriff,' continned Lothair j 
'and both the county members and tneir wives; and Mrs. 
^lligh Sheriff too. I believe thei-o is some tremendous 
^EraestioQ roepectiug the precedency of this lady. There is 



Km. I 
Hhthat< 

P^DOdfl 



203 LOTH AIR. 

DO doubt that, ia tlio connty, the High Sheiiff 
pi'ecedence of everyone, even of the Lord Licalciuuit 
how about his wifo ? Porhaps your Qraoe could aiil me ? 
Hr. Putney Giles said be would wriUs ubunt it to 
Homlda- College.' 

* I ehonld gi\e hor the benefit of any donbt,' Bkid 
Dachesa. 

' And then onr Bishop is ooming,' said Lotbur. 

' Oh I I am ao glad yon bavo asked the Bishop,' i 
Ludy Corisande. 

' There could bo no doubt about it,' said Lothair. ' I do 
not know bow his Lordship will got on with one of my 
gnnrdiaos, the Cardinal ; but bis Eminence is nob hero in a 
priestly character ; and, as fur that, there is less chance o( 
hb differing with the Cardinal than with my other guardian. 
Lord Culloden, who ia a member of the Free Kirk.' 

' Is Lord Culloden coming ? ' said the Dncbess. 

'Yes, and with two danghtors, Flora and Grixell. I 
remember my cousins, good-natured little girls, bub Sir. 
Pntney Giles tells me that the shortest is six foct high," 

' I tbiuk we shall have a very amusing party,' said the 
DucbesH. 

' You know all the others,' said Lothair. ' No, by tlie 
bye, there is the Dean of my college coming, and 
aignore Catesby, a great friend of tlie St. Jeromes.' 

Lady Corisande looked grave. 

'The St. Jeromes will be here to-morrow,' oontini 
Lothair, ■ and the Montairys and the St. Aldegondea, I 
have half un idea that Bertram and Carisbrooko and Hugo 
Bohun will l>o hero to-night; Duke of Brecon on Thursday. 
And that, I think, is all, except an American lady and 
gentleman, whom I think you will like ; great fiiends ai 
mine : I knew tliera this year at Oifoivl, aorl thoy wotv 
very kind to me. He is a man of considerable furtnnc ; 
iboy bave lived at Paris a good deal.' 



^ 
.i^ 



mutJSM 



I 



LOTH AIR. 303 

1 have known Americana mho lived at Paris,' Raid tlie 
Teiy Kood sort of people, and do cud of muiiej 
aome of them.' 

' 1 believe Colonel Campian has largo cetatos in the 
South,' said Lothair ; ' but, though really I have no right 
to speak of his aflairs, ho mnst have Bofferod very mnch.' 

* Well, be has the conBolation of eoUering in a good 
cause,' said the Duke. ' I shall be happy to make hia 
acquaintance. I look upon an American gentleman with 
large estates in the Soath a-s a real ariBtocrnt; and whether 
he gets hia rents, or whatever hia retnma may hv, or not, I 
should always treat him with respect.' 

■ I have beard the American women aro very pretty,' 
said Lady Corisande. 

'Mrs. Campian ia very diatingniahed,' said Lothair; 
* but I think she was an Italian.* 

'Tliey promise to bo an interesting addition to oal 

[,' aaid the Daclieas, and aho rose. 
S never was anything bo Buccessfiil as tlie armnge- 
monta of tbe nert day. After breakfast they inspected the 
caatle, and in tbe easiest manner, without form and without 
harry, reating occasionally in a gallery or a saloon, never 
examining a cabinet, and only looking at a picture now 
and then. Generally speaking, nothing ia more fatiguing 
ttian the survey of a great house, but this enterprise was 
conducted vrith so mnch tact and consideration, and much 
which they had to see waa ao beautiful and novel, that 
(tvoryone waa interested, and n'miuiied quite fresh for 
' subsequent exertionn, ' And then the Duke is ao 
nob amneed,' said tbe Daclii;tss to her daughter, delighted 



CHAPTER XL. 



204 LOTH AIR. 



at the Qnnfioal excitement of the handsome, but aomewlut 
too serene, partner of her life. 

After luncheon they visited the gardens, which had been 
formed in a sylvan valley enclosed with gilded gates. The 
creator of this paradise had been fieiyoared by nature, and 
had availed himself of this opportanity. The contrast 
between the parterres blazing with colonr and the sylvan 
backgronnd, the nndnlating paths oyer romantic heights, 
the &nes and the fountains, the glittering statues, and the 
Babylonian terraces, formed a whole much of which was 
beautiful, and all of which was striking and singular. 

' Perhaps too many temples,' said Lothair, ' but this an- 
cestor of mine had some imagination.' 

A carriage met them on the other side of the valley, and 
then they soon entered the park. 

* I am almost as much a stranger here as yourself, dear 
Duchess,' said Lothair ; ' but I have seen some parts which 
I think will please you.' And they commenced a drive of 
varying, but unceasing, beauty. 

' I hope I shall see the wild cattle,* said Lady Corisando. 

Lady Corisande saw the wild cattle, and many other 
things which gratified and charmed her. It was a long drive, 
even of hours, and yet no one was for a moment wearied. 

' What a delightful day ! ' Lady Corisande exclaimed in 
her mother's dressing-room. ' I have never seen any place 
so beautiful.' 

* I agree with you,' said the Duchess; * but what pleases 
me most are his manners. They were always kind and 
natural, but they are so polished, so exactly what they 
ought to be ; and he always says the right thing. I nerer 
knew anyone who had so matured.' 

' Yes ; it is very little more than a year since he camo 
to us at Brentham,' said Lady Corisande thoughtMly. 
' Certainly he has greatly changed. I remember he could 
hardly open bis lips ; and now I think him very agreeable.' 



LOTH AIR. 



M5 



' He is mora thoc tliat,' said tbe Duchess, ' he is iii- 
tcrestiiig.' 

* Tea,* said Lady Corisande ; ' he la intereating.' 

' Whiil delights me,' said the Dacheas, ' is to sec Hs en- 
joyment of hia position. He seems to take such an interest 
it) everything. It makca me happj to see him bo happy.* 

' Well, I hardly know,' said Lady Corisande, ' aboat that. 
There ia something occasioiia,Ily aboat his expression which 
I should hardly deaoribe as indicative of happiness or 
content. It would be nngnitefnl to describe one as JutTwil, 
who seems to watch all one's wants, and hangs on every 
word ; and yet, especially a« we retumod, and when we 
were all of us a little silent, thei-e was a remarkable abstrac- 
tion about him ; I caught it once or twice before, earlier in 
the day ; his mind seemed in another plitce, and anziooaly.' 

' He has a great deal to think of,' said the Duchess. 

*I fear it is that dreadful Monsignore Cateaby,' siud 

sdy Corisande with a sigh. 



CHAPTER XLI. 

IE arrival of the guests wot arranged with judgment 
le personal friends came first ; the formal visitors were 
only for the day before the public ceremonies corn- 
iced. No moro diunen. in small green dining-rooms. 
le the Dacbess was di'essing. Bertha St. Aldegondeand 
Monlniry, who had just arrived, came in to give her 
Kipid embrace while their own toilettes were nnpacking. 
* Granville has come, mamma ; I did not think that he 
woald till the last moment. Ue said he was so aTmid of 
Iwing bored. There is a large pai'ty by this train ; the St. 
^cmnics, Dortram, ilr, Boliun^ Lord Cansbrooke, and some 
do not itnow.' 



E 



2o6 LOTH AIR. 

The Cardinal had been expected to-day, but be bad tde- 
^rapbed tbat bis arrival must be postponed in oonaeqnenoe 
of bnsiness until the morrow, wbicb day bad been pro- 
yiouslj fixed for tbe arrival of bis fellow g^uardian and 
trustee, tiie Earl of Culloden, and liis daugbters, tbe Ladies 
Flora and Grizell Falkirk. Mon&tgnore Gatesbj bad, bow- 
ever, arrived hj tbis train, and tbe persons ' wbom they 
did not know,' tbe Gampians. 

Lotbair waited on Colonel Campian immediately and 
welcomed bim, but be did not see Tbeodora. Still be bad 
enquired after ber, and left ber a message, and boped tbat 
sbe would take some tea ; and thus, as be flattered himself, 
broken a little tbe strangeness of their meeting under bis 
roof; but, notwithstanding all this, when sbe really entered 
the drawing-room be was seized with such a palpitation of 
the heart that for a moment be thought be should be un- 
equal to the situation. But the serenity of Theodora re- 
assured him. The Campians came in late, and all eye? 
were upon them. Lotbair presented Theodora to tbe 
Duchess, who being prepared for the occasion, said exactly 
the right thing in the best manner, and invited Mrs. Cam- 
pian to sit by her, and then Theodora being launched, 
Lotbair whispered something to the Duke, who nodded, 
and the Colonel was introduced to bis Grace. The Duke, 
always polite but generally cold, was more than courteous ; 
he was cordial ; he seemed to enjoy the opportunity of ex- 
pressing bis high consideration for a gentleman of the 
Southern States. 

So tbe first step was over ; Lotbair recovered himself; 
the palpitation subsided ; and tbe world stiU went on. 
The Campians had made a good start, and tbe favourable 
impression hourly increased. At dinner Theodora sat be- 
tween Lord St. Jerome and Bertram, and talked more to 
tlie middle-aged peer than to the distinguished youth, who 
would willingly have engrossed her attention. All mothers 



LOTH AIR. 



e Bucli discretion, eapeciaJlj in b yoxmg and beanttful 

sd woman, bo the verdict of tbe evenijig amcmg the 

prcat ladies was, th&t Theodora was dlstingaiahed, and tlint 

»II she Baid or did was in good taate. On the plea of bor 

being a foreigner, she was at once admitted into a. cRrtnin 

degrea of sociaJ intimacy. Had she had the misfotlane of 

being native-bom and had flirted with Bertriuu, she woold 

probably, particularly vcith so much beaaty, have been 

looked upon as ' a horrid woman,* and have been relegated 

(or amoHciniiiit, during her visit, to tho att«ntiouB of the 

dark sex. But, strange to say, tbe Bocial success of Colonel 

CwDpian was not less eminent than that of his dis- 

tingtUBhed wife. The character which the Duke gave of 

him commanded nniversal sympathy. ' Yon know he is a 

ntlemau,' said the Duke; 'he is not a Yankee. People 

) tbe greatest mistakeit about tbeae things. Ho is a 

[entlcnuui of the Soutb ; they have no property bat land ; 

. toid hia territory was immense. He always 

IJTed at Paris and in tlie bighcst style, diBgust«d of course 

with bis own coantry. It is not unlikely bo may have lost 

I bia estates now ; but that makes do diBerence to mo. 1 

^■duJl treat him and all Soathem gentlemen, as our fathers 

^HnMed the emigrant nobility of France.' 

^V 'Hugo,' said St. Aldegoade to Ur. Dohun, ' I wish yon 

^wonld tell Bertha to come to me. I want }ier. She is 

talking to a lot of women at the other end of the room, 

and, if 1 go to her, I am afraid they will get hold of mo." 

^B The ftitore Duchess, who lived only to humour her lord, 

^npas at his side in an instant. ' You wanted mo, Gran- 

^B 'Yes; yon know I waa afraid, Bertba, I should be bOTOd 
here. 1 am not bored. I like this American fellow. Ho 
anderstatids tho only two aabjecte which interest me; 
boTMa and tobacco.' 

I ehurmeii, Otanville, that you are not bored ; I 



^^lake 





2o8 LOTH AIR. 



told TnitTnTnA. that jon were yerj much afraid you would 
be.' 

* Yes ; but I tell you what, Bertha, I cannot stand any 
of the ceremonies. I shall go before they begin. Why 
cannot Lothair be content with receiving his friends in a 
quiet way P It is all humbug about the county. If he 
wants to do something for the county, he can build a wing 
to the infirmary, or something of that sort, and not bore 
us with speeches and fireworkB. It is a sort of thing I 
sannot stand.' 

And you shall not, dear Granville. The moment yon arc 
bored, you shall go. Only you are not bored at present.' 

' Not at present ; but I expected to be.' 

'Yes; so I told mamma; but that makes the present 
more delightful.' 

The St. Jeromes were going to Italy and immediately. 
Their departure had only been postponed in order that 
they might be present at the majority of Lothair. Miss 
Arundel had at length sacceeded in her great object. They 
were to pass the winter at Rome. Lord St. Jerome was 
quite pleased at having made the acquaintance at dinner of 
a Roman lady, who spoke English so perfectly ; and Lady 
St. Jerome, who in consequence fastened upon Theodora, 
was getting mto ecstasies, which would have been em- 
barrassing had not her new acquaintance skilfully checked 
her. 

* We must be satisfied that we both admire Rome,' said 
Mrs. Campian, ' though we admire it for different reasons. 
Although a Roman, I am not a Roman Catholic ; and 
Colonel Campian*s views on Italian affairs generally would, 
I fear, not entirely agree with Lord St. Jerome's.' 

* Naturally,' said Lady St. Jerome gracefully dropping 
the subject, and remembering that Colonel Campian was a 
citizen of the United States, which accounted in her appre- 
hension for his peculiar opinions. 

Iiothnir, who had been watching his opportunity ^bfi 



LOTH AIR. 



209 



e erening, approached Theodora. He meaiit to have 
d his hope that she waa not wearied by her journey, 
pt instciid 01 that he said, ' Your presence hero inakea 
B inespTOssibly happy." 

' I think everybody acenis happy lo be yonr gneet,' she 

replied, parrying, as waa hiir cuBtom, with a slight kind 

staHe, and a luw, sweet, onembarrassed voici^, any per- 

•Onal allusion &om Lothair of UDOsua) energy or ardour. 

^^k * I wanted to meet yon at the station to-day,' he con- 

^^Kpued, ' but there were so many people coming, that ' 

^Ed be hesitated. 

^^B * It would really have been n.ore embarrassing to UB 
^^BkD to yourself,' she said. ' Nothing could bo better than 
^^B the arrangements.' 

' I sent niy own brongliam for you,' said Lotli^. ' I 
hope there was no mistake about it.' 

' None : yonr servant gave bb your kind messtige ; and 
as for the carriage it was too dulightfu]. Colonel Campian 
was so pleased with it, that he has promised to give me 
one, with your permission, exactly the same.' 

ffish yott would accept the otio you used to-day.' 

'You aro too niagaiEcent ; you really must try to for- 

with ns, that yoa are the lord of Muriel Towers, 

^t I will willingly nso your carriages as much as you 

uo, for I caught glimpses of beauty to-day in our pro- 

I from tiie station that made me anxious to explore 

IF delightful domain.' 

|.Tli«Ta waa a slight bnrst of merriment from a diatant 

t of the room, aod overyboJy looked around. Colonel 

mpiftn had been telling a story to a group formed of the 

I, St Aldegonde, and Mr. Boliun. 
' Best story I ever bford in my life,' exclaimed St. 
Icgonde, who prided himself when ho did laugh, which 
t ran, on laughing load. Hut even the Duke tittered, 
1 Uugo Bohun Buiilcd. 



2IO LOTHAIR. 

' I am glad to see Uie Colonel get on so well with 
everyone, ' said Lothair ; ' I was afraid be might hare been 
bored.' 

' He does not know wbat tbat means,' said Theodora ; 
* and he is so natural and so sweet-tempered, and so intel- 
ligent, that it seems to me be always is popular.' 

' Do you think tbat will be a match ? ' said Monsignore 
Catesby to Miss ArundeL 

' Well, I rather believe in the Duke of Brecon,' she 
replied. They were referring to Lord Carisbrooke who 
appeared to be devoted to Lady Corisande. ' Do you ad- 
mire the American lady ? ' 

' Who is an Italian, they tell me, though she does not 
look like one. What do you think of her ? ' said the Mon« 
signore, evading, as was his custom, a direct reply. 

* Well, I think she is very distinguished : unusual. 1 
^vonder where our host became acquainted with themP 
Do you know ? ' 

* Not yet ; but I dare say Mr. Bohun can tell us ; ' and he 
eiddressed that gentleman accordingly as he was passing by. 

* Not the most remote idea,' said Mr. Bohun. *■ You 
know the Colonel is not a Yankee ; he is a ts^emendous 
swell. The Duke says with more land than he has.' 

' He seems an agreeable person,' said Miss ArundeL 
' Well, ho tells anecdotes ; he has just been telling one , 
Granville likes anecdotes ; they amuse him, and he likes to 
he amused : that is all ho cares about. I hate anecdotes, 
and I always get away when convei'sation falls into what 
Pinto calls its anecdotage.* 

* You do not like to be amused ? ' 

* Not too much : I like to be interested.' 

* Well,* said Miss Arundel, * so long as a person can talk 
agreeably, I am satisfied. I think to talk well a rare gift ; 
quite as rare as singing : and yet you expect everyone to 
be able to talk, and very few to be able to sing.' 



LOTH AIR. 
I people who do d 



,' said the 



^Tliere are ami 

iigDore, 'aud intercating people who do not unnse. 
'■'•"hat I like ia an agreeable person.' 

' Mf idea of an agreeable person,' said Hugo Bohan, 
' is a person wbo agrees witb me.' 

'Talking of singing, aomcUung is going to happen, 
said Miss Amniltil. 

A note was heard ; a celebrated professor had entered 

the room and was eeaCed at tho piano which be had jost 

toncbed. Tberu was a general and nnconscious hnsh, and 

^tlm coantenance of I.ord St. Aldegonde wore a ruefal ei- 

^^■■Bsion. But atfairx tamed ont Iwttcr than could be 

^^^piuipated. A yonng and pretty girl, dressed in white 

^^^pb a ^gantic sash of dazzling beauty, played upon the 

violin with a grace, and sentiment, aitd marvellons akil], 

and paasinnata expression, worthy of St. Cecilia, She was 

B. Hutigitrian lady, and this was her English debnt. Every- 

body praised her, and everybody was pleased ; and Lord 

St, Aldegoiide, instead of being bored, took a wondrous 

rose out of Ilia buttonhole and presented it to her. 

^^■^Tbo performaDco only lasted half an hour, and then the 

^^HBes began to think of their bowers. Lady St. Aldegonde, 

^^^Bbre she qnitlcd the room, was in eaiTtcst conversation 

^^nth her lord. 

•I have armngcd all that you wi.*hed, Granville,' she 
aaid, speaking rapidly and holding a candlestick. 'We 
are to see the castle to-morrow, and the gardens and the 
pnrka and everj-thing else, but you are not to be bored at 
all, and not tii lose yonr shooting. Tlie moors are sixteen 
miles olT, but onr host says, with an onmihus and a good 
team (and ho will give you a Grst-rate one), you can do it 
in an hour and ten miimtes, cei'tainly an hour and a 
qtiart«r; and yoa are to make your own party in the 
smoking- room to-night, and Inki' a cfipital luncheoD with 



212 LOTH AIR. 



* All right : I shall ask the Yankee ; and I should like 
to take that Hungarian girl too, if she would only fiddle to 
us at luncheon.' 



CHAPTER XLIL 



Next day the Cardinal, with his secretary and his chaplain, 
arrived. Monsignore Catesby received his Eminence at 
the station, and knelt and kissed his hand as he stepped 
from the carriage. The Monsignore had wonderfully ma- 
nccuvred that the whole of the household should have been 
marshalled to receive this Prince of the Church, and per- 
haps have performed the same ceremony : no religious 
recognition, he assured them, in the least degree involved, 
only an act of not unusual respect to a foreign Prince; 
but considering that the Bishop of the diocese and his suite 
were that day expected, to say nothing of the Presbyterian 
guardian probably arriving by the same train, Lothair 
would not be persuaded to sanction any ceremony what- 
ever. Lady St. Jerome and Miss Arundel, however, did 
their best to compensate for this omission with reverences 
which a posture master might have envied, and certainly 
would not have surpassed. They seemed to sink into the 
earth, and then slowly and supernaturally to emerge. The 
Bishop had been at college with the Cardinal and intimate 
with him, though they now met for the first time since his 
Recession : a not uninteresting rencounter. The Bishop was 
high-church, and would not himself have made a bad car- 
dinal, being polished and plausible, well-lettered, yet quite 
a man of the world. He was fond of society, and justified 
his taste in this respect by the flatteriug belief that by his 
presence he was extending the power of the Church ; cer- 
tainly favouring an ambition which could not be described 
as being moderate. The Bishop had no abstract prejudice 



/ 



LOTHAIR. 213 

fij^nst gentlomen who wore red bats, uid under ordinary 
cirvtuna lances would liave welcomed his brother churchman 
vriih unaOectod cordiality, not to say sympathy ; but in the 
present instance, liowevor pracioua his mica ftod honeyed 
Iji8 espreawous he only looked njion the Cardinal as a 
ilangcrous rival, intent apon clutching trma his fold the most 
prociona of his Hock, anil ho had long looked to tins occasion 
ils the one which might decide the spiritniU welfare and career 
of Lotkatr. The odda were not to be dcr^pised. There were 
two Monsignores in the room bosidca the Cardinal, but the 
Dinhop was a man of contrivaDco and resolntion, not easily 
diFibcsrtened or defeated. Nor was he without allies. He 
dill not count much on the University don, who was to 
nrrire on the morrow in the shtipe of the head of an Oiford 
Loose, though he was a don of magnitude. This eminent 
pcnoimge had already let Lothair elip from his influence. 
Bat the Bishop bad a subtle counsellor in his chaplain, 
who wore as good a cassock as any Monsignore, and be 
brought uHtfa him also a trusty archdeacon in a purple 
nmt, whoso countenance was qnito entitled to a place in 
the Acta Sanctorum. 

It was amusing to obsorre the elaborate c-onrtesy and 
than Christian kindness which tlic rival prelates and 
Kht&T official followers extended to each other. But nndor 
kll this nnutian on both sides were unceasing obserratioii, 
and a vigilance that never figged ; and on both sides tliore 
wtts an uneasy but irresistiblo conviction that they were 
00 the eve of one of the decisive battles of the social wor!d. 
Lord Cnlloden also at length appeared with his dimghtcrs, 
Lftdiea Fbra and Grizeil. They were quite as tall as Mr. 
Putney Oilea bad reported, but very pretty, with radiant 
oomplflxions, sunny bice cjcr, and flaxen lockn. Their 
dImplM and white shoulders and small feet and hands were 
niDch admired. Sir. Giles also returned with Apollonia ; 
and at length also appeared the rival uf Lord Caiibbrookt, 
his Grace of Brecou 



214 LOTH AIR, 

Lothair bad passed a bappy morning, for he had oon* 
trived, withont difficulty, to be the companion of Theodora 
during the greater part of it. As the Ducbees and Lady 
Corisande bad abready inspected the castle, they disappeared 
after breakfast to write letters ; and when the afler-lnncheon 
expedition took place, Lothair allotted them to the care of 
Lord Carisbrooke, and himself became the companion of 
Lady St. Jerome and Theodora. 

Notwithstanding all bis efforts in the smoking- room. Si. 
Aldegonde had only been able to induce Colonel Campian 
to be his companion in the shooting expedition, and the 
Colonel fell into the lure only through his carelessness and 
good-nature. He much doubted the discretion of his de- 
cision as he listened to Lord St. AIdegonde*s reasons for the 
expedition in their rapid journey to the moors. 

* I do not suppose,' be said, ' we shall have any good 
sport ; but when you are in Scotland and corno to me, as I 
hope you will, I will give you something you will like. 
But it is a great thing to get off seeing the Towers, and 
the gardens, and all that sort of thing. Nothing bores me 
so much as going over a man's house. Besides, we get rid 
of the women.* 

The meeting between the two guardians did not promise 
to be as pleasant as that between the Bishop and the Car- 
dinal, but the crusty Lord Culloden was scarcely a match 
for the social dexterity of his Eminence. The Cardinal, 
crossing the room, with winning ceremony approached and 
B-ddressed his colleague. 

* We can have no more controversies, my Lord, for our 
reign is over ; * and he extended a delicate hand, which the 
surprised peer touched with a huge finger. 

*Ye8; it all depends on himself now,' replied Lord Cul- 
loden with a grim smile ; ' and I hope he will not make a 
fool of himself.' 

* What have you got for us to-night ? ' enquired L/othair 



LOTH AIR. 



2IS 



of Mr. GUes, aa the gentlemen roKo from llie dining 
table. 

Mr. Giles saiil he woqM consult Lis wire, but Lotbait 
observing he would liimsclf undertake that oiEce, when ho 
entered tbe salnnn addressed Apolloniiu Nothing conld be 
more Bkilfu] thua the manner in nhtch Mrs. Gilca in tbis 
party assmned precisely the position which equally btcnnio 
hpf Bad suited her own views ; at tbe same time tbe some- 
whut bumble friend, but tbe trusted counsellor, of the 
Towera, she disarmed envy and conciliated cocsidemtaon. 
Never obtrusive, yet always prompt and prepared with un- 
failing resonrco, and gifted apparently with univerdol 
talents, she soon became the recognised medium by which 
evcrylliiug was snggosted or arratujed ; and before eight 
and forty hours Lad passed she was described by Duchesses 
. uad tbeir dftughlara aa tliat 'dear Mrs. Giles,' 

* Monsieur Raphael and his sister came down in ti.e train 
k iritb US,' said Mrs. Giles to Lothair; ' the rest of the troupe 
[ivUI not bo bere until to-morrow j but they told me they 
B^nold give you a perfect proverbs if your Lordship would 

; and tbe Spanish conjuror is here; hut I rather 
ink, from what I gatlier, that the young ladies would like 

* I do not much fiiney acting the moment these great 
tharcLnien have arrived, and with Cardinals and Bishops 1 

r would rather not bavo dunces the first night. I almost wish 
I wo bad kept the Uongarian lady for this evening.' 

* Shall 1 send for Ler P she is ready.' 

' The repetition would Iw too aoon, and would show a 
great poverty of resourct-s," said LotLair emiUug; 'what 
^we want Is some singing.' 

'Uardoni ought to have hpen here to-day,' said Mrs 
pilee; 'but be never keeps his cn;.'agcmenta.' 

' 1 thJnk oar amateur materials are rather rioh,' eaid 




2i6 LOTHAIR. 



' There is Mrs. Campian,' said ApoUonia in a low voioe. 
but Lothair shook his head. 

' But perhaps if others set her the example,' he added 
after a pause ; ' Ladj Gorisande is firstrate, and all her 
siHters sing ; I will go and consult the Dnchess.' 

There was soon a stir in the room. Lady St. Aldegonde 
and her sisters approached the piano at which was seated 
i.he eminent professor. A note was heard, and there was 
silence. The execution was exquisite; and indeed there 
are few things more dainty than the blended voices of 
three women. No one seemed to appreciate the perform^ 
ance more than Mrs. Campian, who, greatly attracted by 
what was taking place, turned a careless ear even to the 
honeyed sentences of no less a personage than the Lord 
Bishop. 

After an interval Lady Gorisande was handed to the 
piano by Lothair. She was in fine voice and sang with 
wonderful effect. Mrs. Campian, who seemed much in- 
terested, softly rose and stole to the outward circle of tiie 
group which had gathered round the instrument. When 
the sounds had ceased, amid the general applause her voice 
of admiration was heard. The Duchess approached her, 
evidently prompted by the general wish, and expressed hei 
hope that Mrs. Campian would now favour them. It was 
not becoming to refuse when others had contributed so 
freely to the general entertainment, but Theodora was 
anxious not to place herself in competition with those who 
had preceded her. Looking over a volume of music she 
suggested to Lady Corisande a duet in which the peculiari- 
ties of their two voices, which in character were quite dif- 
ferent, one being a soprano and the other a contralto, might 
be displayed. And very seldom in a private chamber had 
anything of so high a class been heard. Not a lip moved 
except those of the singers, so complete was the fascination, 
till the conclusion elicited a burst of irresistible applause. 



I 



I 



U Bach 

^H UHpCC 

^H rathe 

t 



' In imagioatiaTi I aia tliroiriug endlosB boaqoets,' said 
Hugo Bohun, 

' 1 wish vie cotttd hiduuc hor to give uti a recitatioQ froia 
Atfiori,' said Urs. Piitmiy Giicis in a whisper to Lady St. 
Aldegondo. ' I heard it once it was the BneHt thing 1 ever 
liKtcned to,' 

' Bat cannot we P ' uikI Ladf St. Aldegondo. 

Apollonia ebook her head. ' Sho is extremely reserved. 
I am quite Burprieed that she mng ; but she oonld not nell 
rofns© after your Ladyship and yoar aiBtera had been bo 

' Bat if the Lord of the Towers aska bcr,' suggested Lady 
St. Aldegoade. 

*No, DO,' said Mra, Giles, 'that wonld not do; nor would 
be. He knowa she diBhJcea it. A word fVom Colonel 
Campion and the thing would be settled ; bat it is rather 
mbsurd to invoke the aatbority of a Iiusband for so light a 
maltw.' 

' I fhonld like bo mnch to hear her,' said I^y St, Alde- 
gondo. ' I think I will a^k her myself, I will go and speak 
U> mamma.' 

There was mnch whispering and i:onan!ting in the room, 
bat nnnotiued, a» general conversation had now been re- 
Bomed. The Duchefia sent for Ixjthair and conferred with 
him ; bnt Lothair aeomed to shake his head. Then her 
Grace rose and approached Colonel Campian, whowaatalk- 
ing to liord Calluden, and tlica the Duchess and Lady St, 
AldcgoTide went to Mrs, Campian. Then, after a short 
time, Lady St, Aldogonde rose and fetched Lothair. 

' Her Grace tells me,' said Thoodora, 'that Colonel Cam- 
pian wishes me to give a recitation. I cannot believe that 
Bucb a performance can ever be generally interesting, 
UHpccially in a foreign language, and I confess that I would 
rather not exhibit. But I do not hko to be ohnrlisU when 
liable and compliant, and the Duchess tells Ule 




I 



2i8 LOTH AIR. 

that it cannot well be postponed, for this ia the last quiet 
night we shall have. What I want is a screen, and I must 
be a moment alone, before I venture on these enterprises. I 
require it to create the ideal presence.' 

Lothair and Bertram arranged the screen, the Duchess 
and Lady St. Aldegonde glided about, and tranqnillj inti- 
mafced what was going to occur, so that, without effort^ 
there was in a moment complete silence and general expec- 
tation. Almost unnoticed Mrs. Campian had disappeared, 
whispering a word as she passed to the eminent conductor, 
who was still seated at the piano. The company bad 
almost unconsciously grouped themselves in the form of 
a theatre, the gentlemen generally standing behind the 
ladies who were seated. There were some bars of solemn 
music, and then to an audience not less nervous than her- 
self, Theodora came forward as Electra in that beautiful 
appeal to Clytemnestra, where she veils her mother's guilt 
even while she intimates her more than terrible suspicion 
of its existence, and makes one last desperate appeal of 
pathetic duty in order to save her parent and her fated 

house : 

amata madre, 

Clie fai ? Non credo io, no, cbe ardente fiamma 

II cor ti avrampi. 

The ineffable grace of her action, simple without redun- 
dancy, her exquisite elocution, her deep yet controlled pas- 
sion, and the magic of a voice thrilling even in a whisper, 
this form of Phidias with the genius of Sophocles, entirely 
enraptured a fastidious audience. When she ceased, there 
was an outburst of profound and unaffected appreciation ; 
and Lord St. Aldegonde, who had listened in a sort of 
ecstasy, rushed forward, with a countenance as serious as 
the theme, to offer his thanks and express his admiration. 

And then they gathered round her, all these charming 
women and some of these admiring men, as she would have 



LOTH AIR. 



SI9 



I 



her seat, and entreated Ijcr once more, onlj once 
more, to favour them. She cauglit the adoring glance of 
the Lord of the Towers, and her eyes seemed to onquii'O 
t?hat she ahontd do. ' There will be majiy strangers bere 
to-morrow,' said Lothair, ' aod next week all the world. 
This is a delight only for the initiated,' and he entreated 
hor to gratify Uiem. 

' It eball be Alfieri'a ode to America tUen,' siiid Theo- 
don, 'if yon please.' 

' She is a Roman I believe,' said Lady St. Jerome to Uis 
Eminence, ' bnt not, alas 1 a child of the Chnrch. Indeed 
I fear her views generally are advanced,* and she shook 
berhcBd. 

' At present,' said the Cardinal, ' ibis roof and this visit 
Day influence ber. I should like to see such powers 
engaged in the caose of God.' 

The Csj-dinal was an entire believer in female inflneneo, 
and a conEidcmhle believer in his influence over femalee; 
and ha hod good cause for liis coQvietions. The catalogue 
of his proselytes was numerous and distinguished. He 
bad not only converted a duchess and several countesses, 
but he had gathered into his fold a real Mary Magdalen. 
In tlie height of her beauty and her fame, the most distin- 
guislied member of the demi-monde had suddenly thrown 
tip her golden whip ojid jingling reins, and cast herself at 
the feet of the Cardinal. He had a right, therefore, to be 
confident; and while bis exquisite tasle and conaummato 
coltivation rendered it impossible that he should not bavc 
been dooply gratified by tlie performance of Theodora, he 
vma really the whole time considering the best means by 
whicli such charnia and powers could be enlisted in the 
cause of the Church. 

AUcr the ladies had retired, the gentlemen talked for 
a few minatcB over the interesting occurrence of the 
opening. 



220 LOTH AIR. 



' Do jou know/ said tbe Bishop to the Dnke and some 
Fmronnding auditors, ' fine as was the Eloctra, I preferred 
the ode to the tragedy. There was a tumult of her brow, 
especially in the address to Liberty, that was sablime— 
quite a Moenad look.' 

' \Vliat do you think of it, Carry ? ' said St. Aldegonde 
to Lord Carisbrooke. 

' Brecon says she puts him in mind of RistorL' 

* She is not in the least like Ristori, or anyone else,' said 
St. Aldegonde. * I never heard, I never saw anyone like 
her. I'll tell you what : you must take care what yon 
say about her in the smoking-room, for her husband wiU 
be there, and an excellent fellow too. We went together 
to the moors this morning, and he did not bore me in the 
least. Only, if I had kno\vn as much about his wife as I 
do now, I would have stayed at home, and passed my 
morning with the women.* 



CHAPTER XLIIL 



St. Aldegonde loved to preside over the mysteries of the 
smoking-room. There, enveloped in his Egyptian robe, 
occasionally blurting out some careless or headstrong para- 
dox to provoke discussion among others, which would 
amuse himself, rioting in a Rabelaisian anecdote, and lis- 
tening with critical delight to endless memoirs of horses 
and prima-donnas, St. Aldegonde was never bored. Some- 
times, too, when he could get hold of an eminent traveller, 
or some individual distinguished for special knowledge, 
St. Aldegonde would draw him out with skill, himself dis- 
playing an acquaintance with the particular topic which 
oflen surprised his habitual companions, for St. Aldegonde 
professed never to read ; but he had no ordinary abilities, 



i 



and no ori^nal lum of mind and habit of life, which threw 
him in ttie way of niiiisnal peraons of all classes, from 
nhotn he imbibed or extracted a vast vninot^ of queer, 
always amasing, and not altogether uaeloss, information. 

' Lothair has only one weakness,' he said to Colonel 
('(unpiaa as the ladies disappeared ; ' ho does not smoke. 
Carry, you will come ? ' 

' WcU, I do not think I shall to-night,* eaid Lord Caria- 
brookc. Lady Corisando, it appears, particuliu-ly disap- 
proved of smoking. 

' Ham ! ' said St. AJdegondo ; ' Doko of Brecon I know 
will come, and Hugo and Bertram, lly brother Jlontairy 
iroald gire hia ears to come, but is afraid of his wife ; and 
then there is the Uonsignoro, a most capital feliow, who 
knows OY cry thing,' 

There were other gatherings before the midnight boil 
atnick at the Towers which discussed important aiTairs, 
though they might not sit so late as the smoking party, 
Tindy St. Atdcgonde had a reception in her room as well aa 
hor lord. There the silent obsen-ation of the evening 
funnd avenging expression in sparkling criticism ; and the 
Aiinuncr lightning, thongh it gcnei-ally blaied with harm, 
lees brilliancy, oceasjonally assumed a more arrowy cba- 
mct«r. The gentlemen of the amoking-room have it not all 
thdr own way quite as mnch as they think. If, indeed, a 
Dcw school of Athens wore to be pictured, the sages and 
Lha students might bo represented in e^iqnisite dressing- 
gowns, witli slippers rarer Uiiin the lost one of Ciiiderellfli, 
wid branilisliing bcauLiful brushes over tresses still more 
fjur. Then is the time when characters are never more 
finely drawn, or difficult aocini qnestiora more accurtttety 
Bolved ; knowledge without reasoning, and Imth withcmt 
logic : the triumph of iotnition I But we must not pro- 
fane the mysteries of Bona Dea. 

Tbo An-hdcucori and the Chaplain had also lieea in 



222 LOTHAIR. 

oonncil with the Bishop in his dressing-room, who, whlLo 
he dismissed them with his henison, repeated his ap- 
parently satisfactory assurance, that something would 
happen ' the first thing after breakfast.' 

Lothair did not smoke, but he did not sleep. He was 
absorbed by the thought of Theodora. He could not but 
be conscious, and so far he was pleased by the conscious- 
ness, that she was as fascinating to others as to himself. 
What then ? Even with the splendid novelty of his 
majestic hon^e, and all the excitement of such an incident 
in his life, and the immediate prospect of their again meet- 
ing, he had felt, and even acutely, their separation. Whe- 
ther it were the admiration of her by others which proved 
his own just appreciation, or whether it were the unob- 
tmsive display of exquisite accomplishments, which with 
all their intimacy she had never forced on his notice ; 
whatever the cause, her hold upon his heart and life, pow- 
erful as it was before, had strengthened. Lothair could 
not conceive existence tolerable without her constant pre- 
sence ; and with her constant presence existence would be 
rapture. It had come to that. All his musings, all his 
profound investigation and high resolve, all his sublime 
speculations on God and man, and life and immortality, 
and the origin of tilings, and religious truth, ended in an 
engrossing state of feeling, which could be denoted in that 
form and in no other. 

What then was his future ? It seemed dark and dis- 
tressing. Her constant presence his only happiness ; her 
constant presence impossible. He seemed on an abyss. 

In eight and forty hours or so one of the chief provinces 
of England would be blazing with the celebration of his 
legal accession to his high estate. If anyone in the Queen's 
dominions had to be fixed upon as the most fortunate and 
happiest of her subjects, it might well be Lothair. If 
happiness depend on lofly station, his ancient and here 



LOTHAIR. 223 

dltaiy mak was of tho highest; if, as there Buoms no 
doubt, tile cLitif Bource of fclicitf in this uountry is wealth, 
bia vast puRSf'ssioiiB and accumulated treasure could not 
easily lie rivalled, while he had a matchless advantage over 
those who pass, or waste, their grey and wittered lives in 
acquiring millions, \a his consnrainate and healthy youth. 
Ho had bright abilities, and a brighter heart. And yet tho 
aiiknowu trutb was, that this favoured being, on the eve of 
this eriticaJ t^veut, waa pacing his chamber agitated and 
itifinitoly disqnieled, and struggling with circumstances 
and feelings over which alike ho seemed to have no control, 
and wiiich seemed to have been evoked without the exercise 
of Ilia own will, or that of any other perwon. 

' I do not think I t-an blame myBelr,' he lUud ; ' and I am 

e 1 cannot blame ber. And yet ■ ' 

le opened his window and looked upon tho moonlit 
gnrden, wliicb filled the fanciful qoadmngle. The hght of 
1 the fountain seemed lo fascinate his eye, and the music of 
[ its f&ll southed liini into reverie. Tho distressful im^es 
I that had gathered round hi» heaH gradually vaniiihed, and 
\ lUl that remained to him was tbe reality of liis happiness, 
I Her beauty and her grace, the sweet stillness of her 
I aenrcbing intellect, and the refined pathos of ber dieposi- 
tion only occurred U> him, and be dwelt on them with gpell- 
k bound joy. 

The great clock of the Towers sounded two. 
' Ah ! ' said Lothair, ' I must try to sleep. I have got to 
ipe tho Bishop to-mon-ow morning. I wonder what he 



224 LOTH AIR. 



CHAPTER XLrV. 

The Bishop was particalarly playful on the moirow at 
breakfast. Though his face beamed nvith Chiistiaii kind- 
ness, there was a twinkle in his eye which seemed not 
entirely superior to mundane self-complacency, even to a 
sense of earthly merriment. His seraphic raillery elicited 
sympathetic applause from the ladies, especially from the 
daughters of the house of Brentham, who laughed ooca- 
sionally even before his angelic jokes were well lanncfaed. 
His lambent flashes sometimes even played over the 
Cardinal, whose cerulean armour, nevertheless, remained 
always unscathed. Monsignore Chidioch, however, who 
would once unnecessarily rush to the aid of his chief^ waa 
tumbled over by the Bishop with relentless gaiety, to the 
infinite delight of Lady Corisande, who only wished it had 
been that dreadful ^lonsignore Catesby. But, though less 
demonstrative, apparently not the least devout of his Lord- 
ship's votaries were the Lady Flora and the Lady GrizelL 
These young gentlewomen, though apparently gifted with 
appetites becoming their ample but far from graceless 
forms, contrived to satisfy all the wants of nature without 
taking their charmed vision for a moment off the prelate, 
or losing a word which escaped his consecrated lips. Some- 
times even they ventured to smile, and then they looked at 
their father and sighed. It was evident, notwithstanding 
their appetites and their splendid complexions, which would 
have become the Aurora of Guide, that these young ladies 
had some secret sorrow which reouired a confidante. Their 
visit to Muriel Towers was their introduction to society, for 
the eldest had only just attained sweet seventeen. Young 
ladies under these circumstances always fall in love, but 
with their own sex. Lady Flora and Lady Grizell both 



LOTH AIR. 



22S 



fell Ln lovo with Lady Corisando, and before tlie mommg 
Dad passed away s}ie hud become tbeir friend and connaeUur, 
and the object of their devoted adoration. It seems that- 
their secret Borrow had its origin in tliat myatci'ions rcii- 
pons sentiment which ngitatos or aSects evciy elcsa and 
condition of man, and which oreat^s or destroys states, 
tbongb philoaopLera arc daily assariug ns ' that there ia 
nothing in it.' The daughters of the Earl of CuUodoit 
coold not stand any longer the Free Kirk, of whieh their 
aantere pai'ent was a (iory votary. It seems that they bod 
been aecrclly converted to the Episcopal Church of Scot- 
liuul by a governess, who pretended to be a daughter of the 
Covenant, but who was really a niece of the Primas, and, 
US Lord Culloden acutely observed, when he ignomiuionsly 
dismissed her, ' a Jeanit in disguise.' From that moment 
there bad been no peace in his house. His handsome and 
gigSintic daughters, who had hitherto been all meebief^, 
and who bad olieycd him as tliey wonld a tyrant father of 
the feudal ages, were resolute, and wonid not compromise 
tlielr souls. They humbly expressed their desire to enter 
a convent, or to become at least siatera of merey. Loi-d 
Colloden raged and raved, and delivered liimBclf of cyniod 
taonta, but to no purpose. The principle thivt forms free 
kirks is a strong princi])le, and takes many forms, which 
the social Polyphemea, wIjo have only one eye. cannot pei-- 
cdve. In liis desperate cunfusion, he thought tbac change 
of scfno might bo a diversion when thing;8 were at the 
worst, and this was the reason that he had, contrary to liis 
original intention, accepted the invitation of his ward. 

IjiAy Corisatide was exactly the guide the girls required. 
They sate on eaeh side of her, each holding her hiiiid, which 
they frequently pressed to their lips. As her fofm was 
■light, though of perfect grace and symmetry, the contrast 
between herself and her wiirsbljipers was rather startling; 
bat her noble brow, full of thought and piir]iMe, the firm- 



226 LOTH AIR. 



ness of her chiselled lip, and the rich fire of her ^hmoe^ 
vindicated her post as the leading spirit. 

They breakfasted in a room which opened on a gallerj, 
and at the other end of the gallerj was an apartment 
similar to the breakfast-room, which was the male morning- 
room, and where the world could find the newspapers, or 
join in half an hoar's talk over the intended arrangements 
of the day. When the breakfast-party btt>ke np, the 
Bishop approached Lothair, and looked at him earnestly. 

' I am at your Lordship's service,* said Lothair, and they 
quitted the breakfast-room together. Halfway down the 
gallery they met Monsignore Catosby, who had in his hand 
a number, just arrived, of a newspaper which was esteemed 
an Ultramontane organ. He bowed as he passed them, 
with an air of some exultation, and the Bishop and he 
exchanged significant smiles, which, however, meant 
difierent things. Quitting the gallery, Lothair led the way 
to his private apartments ; and, opening the door, ushered 
in the Bishop. 

Now what was contained in the Ultramontane organ 
which apparently occasioned so much satisfaction to Mon- 
signore Catcsby ? A deflbly drawn-up auuouncemcnt of 
some important arrangements which had been deeply 
planned. The announcement would be repeated in all iho 
daily papers, which were hourly expected. The world was 
informed that his Eminence, Cardinal Grandison, now on a 
visit at Muriel Towers to his ward, Lothair, would cele- 
brate High Mass on the ensuing Sunday in the city which 
was the episcopal capital of the Bishop's see, and after- 
wards preach on the present state of the Church of Christ. 
As the Bishop must be absent from his cathedral that day, 
and had promised to preach in the chapel at Muriel, there 
was something dexterous in thus turning his Lordship's 
flank, and desolating his diocese when he was not present 
to guard it from the fiery di*agon. It was also remarked 



LOTHAIR.' 



337 



that tlioro would be an onnsual gatleriiij^ of the Catholic 
aristoiiracy for tie occasion. The rale oF loclginga iu the 
cily bad risen in consequence. At tlie end of the para- 
gmpL it was distinctlj contradicted that Lothair liad 
entered the Catholic Clmrcli. Such a statement was de- 
rlured to be ' premature,' as his guardian the Cardinnl 
would never sanction his taking' such a step until he was 
the master of his own actions ; the general impression left 
lij- tio whole paragraph being, that the world was not to 
be astonished if the first steji of Lothair, on accumplishing 
hia majority, was to pursue the very course which was now 
daintily described as premature. 

At luncheon the whole party were again aaaembled, 
Tbe newspapers had arrived in the interval and hod been 
digested. Every one was aware of the Popish plot, aa 
Ungo Bohun called it. The Bishop, however, looked 
Acrone and, if not as elate as in tbe morning, calm aud 
content. He sal^ by the Duchess, and spoke to her in a 
low voice and with seriousnesa. The Monsignoii watclied 
every expression. 

Wheu the Duchess rose the Biahc 
the recess of a window, and she s 
span me; I cannot answer for thi 
e always rises early 



accompanied her into 
id, ' You may depend 
Duke. It is not the 
the country, but he 



I 



likes to read liia lettorn before he dressea, and that sort c 
tiling, I think yoa had better speak to Lady Corisaiide 
youniolf.' 

What had laken place at the interview of the Bishop with 
Lothair, and what had elicited from the Duche.ss an assniv 
iince that the prelate might depend upon her, generally trans- 
pired, in consequence of some confidential communications, 
in the conrse of the afternoon. It apjieared that the Right 
Ilcverend Lord hod impressed, and successfully, on Lothair 
the paramount duty of commencing the day of his majority 
by assisting in an eariy celebration of the most sacred rite 



228 LOTH AIR. 

of the Church. This, in the estimation of the Bishop, 
though he had not directly alluded to the subject in tho 
interview, but had urged the act on higher gronnds, would 
be a triumphant answer to the insidious and calumnious 
paragraphs which had circulated during the last six months, 
and an authentic testimony that Lothair was not going to 
quit the Church of his fathers. 

This announcement, however, produced consternation in 
the opposite camp. It seemed to more than neutralise the 
anticipated effect of the programme, and the deftly-con- 
ceived paragraph. Monsignore Catesby went about whis- 
pering that he feared Lothair was going to overdo it ; aod 
considering what he had to go through on Monday, if it 
were only for considerations of health, an early celebration 
was inexpedient. He tried the Duchess, about whom he 
was beginning to hover a good deal, as ho fancied she was 
of an impressionable disposition, and gave some promise of 
results; but here the ground had been too forcibly pre- 
occupied : then he flew to Lady St. Aldegonde, but he had 
the mortification of learning from her lips that she herself 
contemplated being a communicant at the same time. 
Lady Corisande had been before him. All the energies of 
that young lady were put forth in order that Lothair should 
be countenanced on this solemn occasion. She conveyed 
to the Bishop before dinner the results of her exertions. 

* You may count on Alberta St. Aldegonde and Victoria 
Montairy, and, I think. Lord Montairy also, if she presses 
him, which she has promised to do. Bertram must kneel 
by his friend at such a time. I think Lord Carisbrooke may : 
Duke of Brecon I can say nothing about at present.' 

* Lord St. Aldegonde ? * said the Bishop. 
Lady Corisande shook her head. 

There had been a conclave in the Bishop's room before 
dinner, in which the interview of the morning was dis- 
cussed. 



LOTH AIR. 



229 



' It woB sncccesful 1 scarcely satisraclorj-,' said the Bisliop. 
Id is & very clever fellow, and knows a great deal. Thoy 
VI! gut liold of liim, tuid Le has all the arguments at 
i fingers" enda. When I came to tlie point be began 

> demur ; I saw what was passing throufrh his mind, 
id I said at once, " Yonr viewa aro higli : so aro 
ine; so are those of the Church. It is a sacriGcc, nn- 
mbtedly, in a certain senac. Ko sonnd theologian vronid 
hintain tbe simplicity of the elements; but that doca not 

trolve the coarse interpretation of the dark ages." ' 
' Good, good,' said the Archdeacon ; * and what is it your 

ordsbip did not exactly like P ' 
' He fenced too miicb ; and be said more tban once, and 

I K manner I did not like, that, whateTei- were his views 

I to the Church, he thought he could on the whole con- 

lientionsly partake of Uiis rite as administered by tbe 

Loroh of England.' 
' Everything depends on this celebration,' said the Chap. 

iu; 'ailer that his doubts and difficulties will disperse.' 
'We roust do our best that he may bo well Bopported,' 

lid the Ai'ch deacon. 

'No fear of that,' said the Bishop. 'I have spoken to 
ine of onr friends. We may depend on the Dnchesa and 
IT daughters, all admirable wiimen ; and they will do what 
,1 they can with others. It will be a busy day, but I have 
expressed my hope that the heads of the household may be 
•fale to attend. But the county notables arrive to-day, and 
[ shall make it a point with them, especially tlie Lord 
Lieu tenant.' 
' It should be known,' said the Chaplain. ' I will send a 
morandum to the " Guardian." ' 
'And "John Bull," ' said tho Bishop, 

I Tbe Lord Lieutenant and Lady Agramont, and their 

kughur. Lady Ida Alice, arrived to-day j and the High 

[uanuruclnrrr, a great liberal who delighted in 



230 LOTH AIR. 



pocrs, but whoso otherwise perfect folicity to-daj was a 
little marred and lessened by the haunting and restless fear 
that Lothair was not duly aware that he took precedence 
of the Lord Lieutenant. Then there were Sir Hamlet Clot- 
w^orthy, the master of the hounds, and a capital man of 
business ; and the honourable Lady Clotworthy, a haughty 
dame who ruled her circle with tremendous airs and graces, 
but who was a little subdued in the empyrean of Muriel 
Towers. The other county member, Mr. Ardenne, was a 
refined gentleman and loved the arts. He had an ancient 
pedigree, and knew everybody else's, which was not always 
pleasant. What he most prided himself on was being the 
hereditary owner of a real deer park; the only one, he 
asserted, in the county. Other persons had parks which 
had deer in them, but that was quite a difiPerent thing. 
His wife was a pretty woman, and the inspiring genius of 
archBeological societies, who loved their annual luncheon in 
her Tudor Halls, and illustrated by their researches the 
deeds and dwellings of her husband's ancient race. 

The clergy of the various parishes on the estate all dined 
at the Towers to-day, in order to pay their respects to their 
Bishop. * Lotbair's oecumenical council,' said Hugo Bohun, 
as he entered the crowded room, and looked around him 
with an air of not ungraceful impertinence. Among the 
clergy was Mr. Smylie, the brother of Apollonia. 

A few years ago, ^Ir. Putney Giles had not unreasonably 
availed himself of the position which he so usefully and 
so honoui-ably (illed, to recommend this gentleman to the 
guardians of Lothair to fill a vacant benefice. The 
Reverend Dionysius Smylie had distinguished himself at 
Trinity College, Dublin, and had gained a Hebrew scholar- 
ship there ; after that he had written a work on the 
Revelation, which clearly settled the long-controverted 
point whether Rome in the great apocalypse was signified 
by Babylon. The Bishop shrugged his shoulders when ho 



I 



LOTH AIR. Ht 

received Mr. Soiyliu's papers, the examiimig Chnplais 
sighed, and tbe Arclidoacoa groaned. But man ia pn>- 
verbiaily ehortaighted. The doctrine of evolntion aObrda 
no iiiHtiinc«s 60 atrikisg as those of sacerdotal development. 
Placed under the favouring conditions of clinio and soil, 
the real character of the Rev. Dioiiymiis Sniylie gradually, 
bat powerfully, developed itself. Whore he now tnini.'^ 
lort^, ho was attended by acolytes, and incunticd by 
thnriJers. The ebonldera of a fellow- conn trymnn wore 
alone ei^oal to the burden of tbe enormoua cross which 
pnjceded him; while bis ecclesiastical wardrobe famished 
luni with many coloured garments, suited to every Boasoo 
of tbe year, and every festival of the Chm'ch. 

At first there was indignation, and nunoura or prophe- 
ck-e tiiat we slionld soon have another cose of pervorsioii, 
■ltd tbat Mr. Sinylie was going; over to Rome ; but these 
Kuperticial commentators misapprehended the vigorous 
vanity of the man. ' Rome may come to me,' said Mr, 
tiniylie, 'and it is perhaps the best thing it could do. This 
is the real Church without Romish error.' 

The Bishop and hia reverend staff, who were at first so 
much annoyed at tbe preferment of £Ir. Smylic, bad now, 
with respect to him, only one duty, and that was to restrain 
bis exabenuit priestliness ; but they fulSlled that duty in a 
kindly and charitable spirit ; and when the R«v. DionyBiua 
Bmylio was appointed chaplain to Lothair, the Bishop did 
not shrog his shoulders, the Chaplain did not Bigli, nor tlie 
Archdeacon groan. 

The party was so considerable to-day that they dined in 
the great ball. Wlion it was announced to Lothair that 
bis Lordship's dinner was served, and he oIToriHl his arm to 
bla destined companion, ho looked ai-ound, and tbcn, in an 
audible voice, and with a statellncss becoming sueb an iii. 
cidcDt, called upon tbe High Sheriff to lead the OacheKs to 
tbu tabic. Although that eminent personage bad been 



232 LOTH AIR. 

thinking of noihing else for days, and during the last half- 
hour had felt as a man feels, and can only feel, who knows 
that some public function is momentarily about to &11 to 
his perilous discharge, he was taken quite aback, changed 
colour, aiid lost his head. But the band of Lothair, who 
were waiting at the door of the apartment to precede the 
procession to the hall, striking up at this moment * The 
lloast Beef of Old England,' reanimated his heart; and 
following Lothair, and preceding all the other guests down 
the gallery, and through many chambers, he experienced 
the proudest moment of a life of struggle, ingenuity, 
vicissitude, and success. 



CHAPTER XLV. 



Under all this flowing festivity there was already a current 
of struggle and party passion. Serious thoughts and some 
anxiety occupied the minds of several of the guests, amid 
the variety of proffered dishes and sparkling wines, and the 
subdued strains of delicate music. This disquietude did 
not touch Lothair. He was happy to find himself in his 
ancestral hall, surrounded by many whom he respected and 
by some whom he loved. He was an excellent host, which 
no one can be who does not combine a good heart with 
high breeding. 

Theodora was rather far from him, but he could catch 
her grave, sweet countenance at an angle of the table, as 
she bowed her head to Mr. Ardenne, the county member, 
who was evidently initiating her in all the mysteries of 
deer parks. The Cardinal sate near him, winning over, 
though without apparent effort, the somewhat prejudiced 
Lady Agramont. His Eminence could converse with more 
facility than others, for he dined off" biscuits and drank 
only water. Lord Culloden had taken out Lady St. Jerome, 



I 



LOTHAIR. 833 

who expended on >iim all the resonrces of hor impHssiooed 
tittle- tatilc, extracting only grim smiles ; and Ladj Cori- 
sande had fallen to the hiippj' lot of the Doke of Brecon ; ac- 
oarding to the fine perception of Clare Ammiel (and women 
are very quick in these diacoveriea) the winning horse. St. 
Aldegondc had managed to tumble in between Lady Flora 
and Lady Grizell, and seemed immensely amnHcd. 

The Dnke enqnired of LotLair liow many he conld dine 
in hJ.^ Imll. 

■ We most dine more than two hundred on Monday,' he 
replied. 

' And now, I Ehnuld think, we hare only a third of that 
nnmber," said his Grace. ' It will be a tight fit.' 

• Mr. Putney Gilca haa bad a dmwiug made, and every 
scat apportioned. We shall jnst do it' 

' I fear you will have too busy a day on llonday,' said 
the Cardinal, who htid cangbt np the conversation. 

' Well, you know, sir, I do not sit up amokiug with Lord 
St Aldegondc' 

Afl«r dinner, Lady CoriBando seated herself by Mrs. 
Ciunpian. ' Ton must have thonght mo very rude,' she 
•aid, ' to have left you so suddenly at tea, when the Bishop 
looked into the i^wm ; but he wanted me on a matter of 
the greatest importance. I must, therefore, ask your 
pardon. Yon natunvlly would not feel on this matter as 
we all do, or most of aa do,' she added with some besita* 
Lioa ; ' being, pardon me, a foreigner, and the question 
involving national as well as religions feelings ; ' and then 
aomewhat hurriedly, but with emotion, aho detailed to 
Theodora all that had occurred respecting the early cele- 
brstion on Iilonday, and the opposition it was receiving 
fi^m tlie Cardinal and his friends. It wtus a relief to Lady 
Corisande thus to express all her feelings on a subject on 
whioh she had been brooding the whole day. 

Tou mistake,' said Theodora qaictly, when Lndy Cori- 



234 LOTH AIR. 

Rando had finished. ' I am mach interested in what yon 
tell me. I shonld deplore our Mend ficdling under the in- 
duence of the Romish priesthood.' 

'And yet there is danger of it,' said Lady Corisande, 
' more than danger,' she added in a low hut earnest voice. 
' You do not know what a conspiracy is going on, and has 
heen going on for months to effect this end. I tremble.' 

* That is the last thing I ever do,' said Theodora with a 
faint sweet smile. * I hope, but I never tremble.' 

* You have seen the announcement in the newspapers to- 
day P ' said Lady Corisande. 

' I think if they were certain of their prey they would be 
more reserved,' said Theodora. 

* There is something in that,' said Lady Corisande 
musingly. * You know not what a relief it is to me to 
speak to you on this matter. Mamma agrees with me, 
and 80 do my sisters ; but still they may agree with me 
because they are my mamma and my sisters ; bat I look 
upon our nobility joining the Church of Rome as the 
greatest calamity that has ever happened to England. 
IiTCspective of all religious considerations, on which I will 
not presume to touch, it is an abnegation of patriotism ; 
and in this age, when all things are questioned, a love of 
our country seems to me the one sentiment to cling to.' 

* I know no higher sentiment,' said Theodora in a low 
voice, and yet which sounded like the breathing of some 
divine shiine, and her Athenian eye met the fiery glance of 
Lady Corisande with an expression of noble sympathy. 

' I am so glud that I spoke to you on this matter,' said 
Lady Corisaudo, * for there is something in you wliich 
encourages me. As you say, if they were certain they 
would be sileut ; and yet, hxnn what I hear, their hopes 
are high. You know,' she added in a whisper, *' that he 
has absolutely engaged to raise a Popish Cathedral. My 
brother, Bertram, has seen tb^ model in his rooms.' 



'yon were not born to 
who have co country, 
of England, Iho benati- 



i 



LOTHAIR. 335 

' I hnvD IcDowc moilols that were oEvcr realised,' said 
Theodora. 

'Ah! yoo (ire liopefo] ; you said you were hopeful. It 
is * beantiful dieposition. It is not mine,' ahe added with 

'It should be,' said Theodora; 
figh. Sighs should bo for thos 
like myself; not for the daaghtei 
I ul (laughters of proud England.' 

' But yoa have your husband's country, and that is 
proud and ^cat.' 

' I have only one country, and it is not my husband's ; 
and I have only one thought, and it in to see it free.' 

'It is a noble one,' said Lady Corisande, 'aa I am sni'S 
»n> all your thoughts. There are the gentletneo ; 1 am 
voiry they have come. There,' she added, as Monsiguore 
Cntesby entered the room, ' there ia Ids evil fjenius.' 

' But you have baffled bim,' said Tlieodoni. 

'Ah!' said Lady Corieande, with a long-drawn eigh. 
• Their maQtcuvros never cease. However, I think Mon- 
day most be safe. Would you come ?' she said, with a 
serious, searcliitig glance, and in a kind of coaxing murmur, 

' I should Ul an intruder, my dear laily,' said Theodora, 
dectiuing the suggestion; 'but so far as hoping that our 
friend will never join tlio Church of Rome, you will Lave 
my ardent wishes." 

Thoodont might have added her belief, for Lothair had 
nBVcr concealed from her a single thought or act of bis Ul'e 
in this rcRpect, She knew all and Lad weighed every- 
Ibiug, and flutlered herself that their frequent and onre- 
BOrved conversationa had not confirmed hia belief in the 
infallibility of llio Church of Rome, and perhaps of some 
other things. 

It hftd been settled that there should Iw d.ancing thin 
flvomug ; all the young ladies had wished it. Lotbaii 



236 LOTH AIR. 

danced with Lady Flora Falkirk, and her sister, Ladj 
Grizoll, was in the same quadrille. Thej moved about 
like young giraffes in an African forest, but looked bright 
and happy. Liothair liked his cousins ; their inexperience 
and innocence, and the simplicity with which they ex- 
hibited and expressed their feelings, had in it something 
bewitching. Then the rough remembrance of his old life 
at Falkirk and its contrast with the present scene, had in 
it something stimulating. They were his juniors by several 
years, but they were always gentle and kind to him ; and 
sometimes it seemed he was the only person whom they 
too had found kind and gentle. He called his cousin 
too by her christian name, and he was amused, standing 
by tliis beautiful giantess, and calling her Flora. There 
were other amusing circumstances in the quadrille ; not 
the least. Lord St. Aldegonde dancing with Mrs. Campian. 
The wonder of Lady St. Aldegonde was only equalled bj 
her delight. 

The Lord Lieutenant was standing by the Duke in a 
comer of the saloon, observing not with dissatisfaction his 
daughter, Lady Ida Alice, dancing with Lothair. 

*Do you know this is the first time I ever had the 
honour of meeting a Cardinal ? ' he said. 

* And we never expected that it would happen to either 
of us in this country when we were at Christchnrch to- 
gether,' replied the Duke. 

*Well, I hope everything is for the best,' said Lord 
Agramont. * We are to have all these gentlemen in our 
good city of Grandchester to-morrow.' 

* So I understand.' 

* You rend that paragraph in the newspapers ? Do you 
think there is anything in it ? ' 

* About our friend ? It would be a great misfortune.' 

* The Bishop says there is nothing in it,' said the Lord 
I/ieutouant. 



I 



LOTHAIR. 2-57 

* ^etl, be onglit to know. I nndeTStand he has had 
Bcnio aeriona conversutiaii recently nit]) oar fiiend F ' 

' Tea ; he has spoken to ute about it. Are you going to 
attend the early celebration to-morrow ? It ia not much 
to my tnate ; a little new-fangled, I tliiuk ; but I ahitll go, 
aa they say it will do good.* 

' 1 am glad of that ; it la well tliat be shonld be im- 
pressed at this moment with tlie importance and opinion of 

' Do yon know I nerer saw liim before,' said tho LoiJ 
Uentenant. ' He is winning.' 

* I know no youth,' said the Diike, ' (I would not eicojit 
mj own son, and Bertram has never given ine an nneaay 
moment,) of whom I have a better opinion, both as to h(<art 
and bead. I should deeply deplore his being emashed by 
» Jesait.' 

Tb« daccing had ceased for a moment ; there was a 
•tir; Lord Carisbrooke was eulaj-ging, with nnnsoal ani- 
ntivlion, to an interested group ubout a new dance at 
Paris : the new dance, Conld they not have it here ? Un- 
fnrtuntttoly he did not know its name, and could not 
describe its Ggure ; but it was something new ; quite new ; 
lliey have got it at Paris. Princesa Metteroich dances it, 
Hs danced it with her, and slio tiiaght it him ; only he 
Borer conld explain anything, and indeed never did exactly 
nuke it out. ' But you dance it with a shawl, and then 
two ladies hold the shun], and the cavaliers pass under it. 
In fact il is the only thing ; it 18 the new dance at Paris.' 

What a pity that anything so delightful shonld be so 
indefinite and perplexing, ond indeed impoBsible, which 
rendered it still more desirable ! If Lord Carisbrooke only 
oonld have remembered its name, or a single step in ita 
figure ; it was so tantalising 1 

' Do not yon think so P ' said Hugo Bohnn to Mra. 
Cumpiui], who was sitting apart listening to Lord St. 



238 LOTH AIR. 



Aldogoiide*8 account of his travels in the United States, 
which he was veiy sorry he ever quitted. And then they 
enquired to what Mr. Bohun referred, and then he told 
them all that had heen said. 

' I know what he means,* said Mrs. Campian. ' It is 
not a French dance ; it is a Moorish dance.' 

' That woman knows everything, Hugo,' said Lord St. 
Aldegonde in a solemn whisper. And then ho called to 
his wife. ' Bertha, Mrs. Campian will tell you all ahout 
this dance that Carishrooke is making such a mull of. 
Now look here, Bertha ; you must get the Campians to 
come to us as soon as ])ossihle. They are going to Scot- 
land from this place, and there is no reason, if you manage 
it well, why they should not come on to us at once. Now 
exert yourself 

* I will do all I can, Granville.' 

* It is not French, it is Moorish ; it is called the Tan- 
gerine,' said Theodora to her surrounding votaries. * You 
begin with a circle.' 

* But how are we to dance without the music ? * said 
Lady Montairy. 

* Ah ! I wish I liad known tins,' said Theodora, * before 
dinner, and I think I could have dotted down something 
that would have helped us. But let me see,' and she went 
up to the eminent professor, with whom she was well 
acquainted, and said, * Signer Ricci, it begins so,' and she 
hummed divinely a fantastic air, which, after a few 
moments' musing, he reproduced ; * and then it goes off 
into what they call in Spain a saraband. Is there a shawl 
in the room ?' 

* My mother has always a shawl in reserve,' said Ber- 
tram, ' particularly when she pays visits to houses where 
there are galleries;' and he brought back a mantle of 
Cashmere. 

' Now, Signer Ricci,' said Mrs. Campian, and she again 



LOTH AIR. 



=39 



CDined an air, and moved forward at tlie same tiiup with 
illiaot gmce, waving at tbo cud tbe sbawl. 
The expression of her conii(«n(Lucc, looking ronoil to 
Kgnor Rictri, as she was movin;;; on to bcb whether he hnd 
idgrht her idea, fascinated Lothntr. 

a exactly wliat 1 told you,' said Lord CarisbrooVe, 

■sud, I can aasDre yon, it is the only dunce now. I aia 

J glad 1 remembered it.' 

'I SCO it all,' said Signer Ricci, as Thnodora rapidly 

detailed to him the rest of the figure. 'And at any rate it 

will bo the Tangeiino with variations.' 

' Let me have the honour of being yonr partner in this 
enterprise,' said Lotboir j ' you are the inspiration ol 

' Oh I I am very glad I can do anything, however slight, 
D please yon and your friends. I like them all ; but pai-- 
Kcnlarly Lady Corisande.' 

■w dance in a country honse is a festival of frolic 
The incomplete knowledge and the imporfoot 
lution are themselves caiiaea of merry escitemcnt, in 
pbeir ooQtrafit with the animpassioned routine and almost 
nconscious practice of traditionary performances. And 
Hy and frequent were the harsts of laughter from tlia 
night and airy baud who were proud to be the acliolara ol 
nieodora. Tbo least successful among them was perhaps 
<ord Carisbrooko. 

' Princess Mettomich roust have taught yoa wrong, 
VHobrooke,' said Hugo Bohun. 

They ended with a waltz, Lothair dancing with Miss 
^ruudol. She accepted his offer to fake Rotno tea on its 
BOQclusion. While they were standing at the table, a little 
rithdrawn from others, and he holding a sngar basin, she 
low voice, looking on her cup and not at him, 
I^The Cardinal is veied ahoat tho early celebration ; be 
a it should liave been at miJcight.' 



240 LOTH AIR. 

' I am sorry be is vexed,' said Lothair. 

* He was going to speak to you himself^* oontmned Kis 
Ajimdel ; ' bat he felt a delicacy abont it. He had thought 
that your common feelings respecting the Church might 
have induced you, if not to consult, at least to convenev 
with him on the subject ; 1 mean as your guardian/ 

' It might have been perhaps as well,' said Lothair ; 
' but I also feel a dehcacy on these matters.' 

'There ought to be none on such matters,' oontinned 
^liss Arundel, ' when everything is at stake.' 

' I do not see that I could have taken any oilier oouiae 
than I have done,' said Lothair. * Tt can hardly be wrong. 
The Bishop's church views are sound.' 

' Sound ! ' said Miss Arundel ; ' moonshine instead of 
sunshine.' 

* Moonshine would rather suit a midnight than a mom* 
ing celebration,' said Lothair ; * would it not ? ' 

* A fair repartee, but we are dealing with a question that 
cannot be settled by jests. See,' she said with great 
seriousness, putting down her cup and taking again his 
offered arm, * you think you are only complying with 
a form befitting your position and the occasion. You 
deceive yourself. You are hampering your future freedom 
by this step, and they know it. That is why it was 
planned. It was not necessary ; nothing can be necessary 

! so pregnant with evil. You might have made, you might 
yet make, a thousand excuses. It is a rite which hardly 

' suits the levity of the hour, even with their feelings ; but, 
with your view of its real character, it is sacrilege. What 
is occurring to-night might furnish you with scruples.' 
And she looked up in his face. 

' * I think you take an exaggerated view of what I oon» 

template,' said Lothair. *Even with your convictions it 

, may be an imperfect rite ; but it never can be an injurious 
one. 



LOTHAIR. 



241 



' Tfaera can be no compromiBO on suoli mntters,' eaid 
Miss AjmnJeL 'The Charch knows notliinif of imperfect 
ril«8. They are all perfout becanse they ure all divinej 
any deviation from them is htrefly, and fatiil. My con' 
victions on this subject are your oonvictionB ; act up to 

• 1 am snre if thinking of these matters wonlJ guide u 

man righb ' said Lothair with a sigh, and he stopped. 

' Human thought wi!l never gaide yon ; and very 
justly, when you have for a guide Divine truth. Ton lue 
now your own master ; go at once ta its fountain-head ; 
go to Rome, and then all your perplexities will vanish, and 
for e»Br.' 

' I do not see mnch prospect of my going to Rome,' 
■aid Lothair, 'at least at present.' 

' Well,* said Miss Arundul ; ' in a few weeks I liope to 
be there ; and if so, 1 hope never to quit it,' 
U^^'Do not say that; the future is always unknown.' 
^^H^ Not yours,' said Misa Arundel, ' Whatever yon thinj^ 
^^^k will go to Borne, filark niy words. I summon you to 
^^Hflt me at Rome.' 

^" CHAPTER XLVL 

There can bo little doubt, generally Bpeaking, that it ia 
more satisfactory to pass Sunday in the country tban in 
town. There ia something in the essential stillness of 
country life, which blends harmoniously with the ordinance 
of the most divine of our divine laws. It is pleasant too, 
when the congregation breaks up, to greet one's neigh- 
bours ; to say kind words to kind f:icea ; to bear somo 
rnr&l news profitable to learn, whieh somctimi-s enables 
iVOO to do some good, and sometimes prevents others frtnn 
some haj'Ui. A quiet domcalio walk tuo iu the 



242 LOTH AIR. 



aflemooD has its pleasures ; and so nnmerons and so yarioaa 
are the sources of interest in the coontrj, that, though it 
be Sunday, there is no reason why your walk should sot 
have an object. 

But Sunday in the country, with your house full of 
visitors, is too often an exception to this general truth. 
It is a trial. Your guests cannot always be at church, 
and, if they could, would not like it. There is nothing to 
interest or amuse them : no sport ; no castles or fetctories 
to visit ; no adventurous expeditions ; no gay music in the 
mom, and no light dance in the evening. There is always 
danger of the day becoming a course of heavy meals and 
stupid walks, for the external scene and 'all its teeming 
circumstances, natural and human, though full of cx>ncem 
to you, are to your visitors an insipid blank. 

How did Sunday go off at Muriel Towers ? 

in the first place there was a special ti*ain, which at an 
early hour took the Cardinal and his suite and the St 
Jerome family to Grandcheoter, where they were awaited 
with profound expectation. But the Anglican portion of the 
guests were not without their share of ecclesiastical and 
spiritual excitement, for the Bishop was to preach this day 
in the chapel of the Towers, a fine and capacious sanctuary 
of florid Gothic, and his Lordship was a sacerdotal orator 
of repute. 

It had been announced that the breakfast hour was to bo 
somewhat earlier. The ladies in general were punctual, and 
seemed conscious of some great event impending. The 
ladies Flora and Gnzell entered with, each in her hand, a 
prayer-book of purple velvet adorned with a decided cross, 
the gift of the Primus. Lord Culloden, at the request of 
Lady Corisande, had consented to their hearing the Bishop, 
which he would not do himself. He passed his morning in 
finally examiiiiiig the guardians' accounts, the investigation 
of which he conducted and concluded during the rest of 



LOTH AIR. 



343 



ttae day with Ur. Putney Giles. Mrs. Campian did Dot 
leftve her room. Lord St. Aldcgonde came down late, and 
looked Aibant him with an nnensy, ill-bninoared air. 

WLelher frum tho absence of Theodora or from some 

f>tber caose, he was brask, ungracious, scowling, u,nd silent, 

ooly nodding to the Biahnp who beQignly Biiiutcd him, re- 

fnsing every dish tliat was otFered, then getting np and 

I helping himself at tbe side table, making a great noise with 

^^|fee carving instruments, and Honucing down his plate when 

^^^■K resumed hia Heat. Nor was bis costume correct. All 

^^^Be oilier gentlemen, thongh their usual morning drcsse.'t 

^^^wera sufficiently fantastic (trunk hose of every form, stock- 

^^^kgs bright as paroquets, wondrona shirts, and velvet i;outs . 

^Htf every tint), habited themselves to-day, both as regards 

^^fonn and colour, in a stylo indicative of the subdued gravity 

of their feelings. Lord St. Aldegonde had on his shooting 

jacket of brown velvet and a pink shirt and no cravat, and 

his rich brown locks, always to a certain degree neglected, 

were peculiarly diabevelled. 

Hugo Bobun, who was not afraid of him and was a high 
^^clmrchmiin, being in religion and in all other matters 
^^Ktways on the side of the Duchesses, said, ' Well, St. Alde- 
^^^■onde, are you going to chapel in that dress ? ' But St. 
I^^Lldegonde would not answer ; he gave a snort and glanced 
m' K Hugo with the eye of a gladiator. 

The meal was over. The Bi.shop was standing near tho 
mantelpiece talking to the ladies, who were clustered ronnd 
^iiim ; the Archdi-acon and tbe Chaplain and some other 
lergy a little in the background ; Lord St. Aldegonde, who, 
)|rbetlier there were a fire or not, always stiKMl with his 
Uik to the fireplace with his hands in his pockets, moved 
HsconrtVOnBly among them, assumed his nsual position, and 
iRTied, »s it were grimly, for a few moments to their talk j 
^ flnddonly exclaimed in a loud voice, and with tbe 
]f !■ rebellious Titan, ' How I hate Sunday ! ' 



244 LOTH AIR. 

* Granville ! ' exclaimod Lady St. Aldcgonde, tnnung 
pale. There was a general shudder. 

' I mean in a country-house,' said Lord St. Aldegonde. 
' Of course I mean in a country-house. I do not dislike it 
when alone, and I do not dislike it in London. But Sun- 
day in a country-house is infernal.' 

' I think it is now time for us to go,' aaid the Bishop, 
walking away with dignified reserve, and they all dispersed. 

The service was choral and intoned ; for although the Rev. 
Dionysius Smylie had not yet had time or opportunity, as 
was his intention, to form and train a choir from the hoaso- 
hold of the Towers, he had secured from his neighbouring 
parish and other sources external and effective aid in that 
respect. The parts of the service were skilfully distributed, 
and rarely were a greater number of priests enlisted in a 
more imposing manner. A good organ was well played ; 
the singing, as usual, a little too noisy ; there was an an- 
them and an introit, but no incense, which was forbidden 
by the Bishop ; and though there were candles on the 
altAr, they were not permitted to be lighted. 

The sermon was most successful ; the ladies reiximed with 
elate and animated faces, quite enthusiastic and almost for- 
getting in their satisfaction the terrible outrage of Lord St 
Aldegonde. He himself had by this time repented of what 
he had done and recovered his temper, and greeted his wife 
with a voice and look which indicat<ed to her practised 
senses the favourable change. 

'Bertha,' he said, *you know I did not mean anything 
personal to the Bishop in what I said. I do not like 
Bishops ; I think there is no use in them ; but I have no 
objection to him personally ; I think him an agreeable man ; 
not at all a bore. Just put it right. Bertha. But I tell 
you what, Bertha, I cannot go to church here. Lord Cul- 
lodon does not go, and he is a very reb'gious man. He is 
tho man I most agree with on these matters. I am a free 



LOTH AIR. 



3« 



churcbomn, imd there is an end of it. I cannot go tbis 
^tfuTTiiKiii. I do not spprove of the wbole thing. It is 
altogether against mj conscience. What I mean to do, if 
I can manage it, is t«i take a real long walk with the Cikm 

]ltra. Compian nppeared at lanobeon. The Bishop was 
Attentive to bcr ; oven cordial. Ue was resolved she 
sbonid not feel he was annoyed by ber not having been a 
member of his congregation in the morning. Lady Cori- 
oande too had said to him, ' I wish so much yon would 
talk to Mrs. Campian ; eho is a sweet, noble creature, and 
clever ! I feel that she might be brought to view things 
the right light.' 

know,' said the Bishop, ' how to deal with these 
irican ladies. I never can make out what they belief e, 
or what they disbelieve. It is a sort of confusion between 
Mrs, Beecber Stowe and the Fifth Avenne congregation 
»ud Bamum,' he added with a twinkling eye. 

The second service was late ; the Dean preached. The 

lateness of the hour permitted the Lord Lieutenant and 

thoae guests who had arrived only the previous dny to look 

the caatio, or ramble about the gardens. St. Alde- 

ide sncceeded in his scheme of a real long walk with the 

ipions, which Lotlmir, b^und to listen to the head of 

illege, was not permitted to share. 

In the evening Signer Mardoui, who had arrived, and 

Madame Isola IJuila favoured them with what they called 

principally prayers from operas and a grand 

ibnt Mater. 

Lord Culluden invited Lothair into a further saloon, 
'here they might speak without disturbing ihe performera 
the ar.dienco. 

I'll jnst take advantage, my dear boy,' said Lord Cullo- 
, in a tone of unnsuul tondemesa, and of Doric accent, 
the absence of those gentlemen to have a UttJe quiet 



^^Entei 



^Ed< 



246 LOTH AIR. 



oonversatdon with you. Thon^h I have not seen so mach 
of you of late as in old days, I take a great interest in yon, 
DO doubt of that, and I was very pleased to see how good- 
natnred you were to the girls. Yon have romped with 
them when they were little ones. Now, in a few hoorSi 
yon will be master of a great inheritance, and I hope it 
will profit ye. I have been over the accounts with Mr. 
Giles, and I was pleased to hear that you had made your- 
self properly acquainted with them in detail Never you 
sign any paper without reading it first, and knowing well 
what it means. You will have to sign a release to us if 
you be satisfied, and that you may easily be. My poor 
brother-in.lavv left you as large an income as may be found 
on this side Trent, but I will be bound he would stare if 
he saw the total of the whole of your rentroll, Lothair. 
Your afiairs have been well administered, though I say it 
who ought not. But it is not my management only, or 
principally, that has done it. It is the progress of the 
country, and you owe the country a good deal, and yon 
should never forget you are bom to be a protector of its 
liberties, civil and religious. And if the country sticks to 
free trade, and would enlarge its currency, and be firm to 
the Protestant faith, it will, under Divine Providence, oon- 
tinue to progress. 

* And here, my boy, I'll just say a word, in no disagree- 
able manner, about your religious principles. There are a 
gfreat many stories about, and perhaps they are not true, and 
I am sure I hope they are not. If Popery were only just 
the sign of the cross, and music, and censer-pots, though I 
think them all superstitious, I'd be free to leave them alone 
if they would leave me. But Popery is a much deeper thing 
than that, Lothair, and our &thers found it out. They 
could not stand it, and we should be a craven crew to stand 
it now. A man should be master in his own house. You 
will be taking a wife some day ; at least it is to be hoped 



Bi and bow will joa like one of theae llonsignoraa to be 
Uking into her bedroom, eh; o.nd talking to her alone 
sea, and vrhere lie pleases ; and when yon want 
to coQsalt yonr wife, which a. wise man shoald ol>«n do, to 
find there is another mind between hers fttid yours ? There's 
•"y gif's, they are jnst two young goeno, and they have u 
hankering after Popery, having had a Jesuit in the honne 
J do not know what has come to the women. They are for 
ling into a convent, and they are quite right in that, for 
they be Papists they will not lind a husband easily in 
illand, I neen. 

And as for yon, my boy, they will be telling yon that it 
ia only jnst this and just that, and there's no great diS'er- 
ence, tuid what not ; but I tell you that if once you embrace 
the scarlet lady, you are a tainted corpse. You'll not be 
able to order your dinner without a priest, and they will 
ride your best horses without saying with your leave or by 






yoc 



•tea 



The concert in time ceased ; there was a sti^ in the room ; 
the Rev. Dionysius Smyhe moveil about mysteriouHly, and 
nltimatcly eecmod to make an obuiaance before the Bishop, 

I was time for prayers. 
' Shall yon go P ' said Lord St. Aldegondo to Mrs. Com- 
B, by whom he was sitting. 
'I like to pray alone,' she answered. 
'As for that,' said St. Aldegonde, 'I am not clear wq 
^ht to pray at all ; either in public or private. It seems 
y arrogant In us to dictate to an all- wise Creator what 
WB desire.' 

' I believe in the efficacy of prayer," said Theodora. 
' And I believe in yo'i,' said St. Aldegonde, after a ma- 
in tary pause. 



KKnlu; 



248 LOTH AIR. 



CHAPTER XLVir. 

On tlie morrow, the early celebration in tlie chapel w 
nuxneronslj attended. The Duchess and her danghters, 
Lady Agramont, and Mrs. Ardenne were among the fluth- 
fnl ; but what encouraged and gratified the Bishop was, 
that the laymen, on whom he less relied, were nmnerously 
i^epresented. The Lord Lieutenant, Lord Carisbrooke, Lord 
^lontairy, Bertram, and Hago Bohnn accompanied Lothair 
to the altar. 

After the celebration, Lothair retired to his private apart- 
ments. It was arranged that he was to join his assembled 
friends at noon, when he would receive their congratula- 
tions, and some deputations from the county. 

At noon, therefore, preparatively preceded by Mr. Put- 
ney Giles, whose thought was never a«leep, and whose eye 
was on everything, the guardians, the Cardinal and the 
Earl of Culloden, waited on Lothair to accompany him to 
his assembled friends, and, as it were, launch him into the 
world. 

They were assembled at one end of the chief gallery, and 
in a circle. Although the deputations would have to ad- 
vance the whole length of the chamber, Lothair and his 
guardians entered from a side apartment. Even with this 
assistance he fblt very nervous. There was no lack of feel- 
ing, and, among many, of deep feeling, on this occasion, 
bui there was an equal and a genuine exhibition of cere- 
mony. 

The Lord Lieutenant was the first person who congratu- 
lated Lothair, though the High Sheriflf had pushed forward 
for that purpose, but, in his awkward precipitation, he got 
involved with the train of the Honorable Lady Clotworthy, 



LOTH AIR. 



349 



D bestowed on bim mch a witbuHng g!ince, that he felt 
P Touted mftn, and gave np the attempt. There wore many 
ind and Bume earnest words. Even St. AMegonde ao- 
Icnowledgrd the genius of the occasion. He was grave, 
grace^l, and dig-nified, and addressing Lothair by hia title 
li(> Baid, ' that be hoped he noalil meet in life that happiness 
■A'liich he felt confident be dcsei'ved.' Theodora said no- 
thing, tiioogh her lips Beemed once to move ; biit she re- 
t&ined for a moment Lothair's band, and the expression of 
her conntenance toncbed his innermost heart. Ladj Con- 
flande beamed with daaailing heanty. Her conntenanoe was 
J OTOHS. radiant ; her mien imperial and triumphant. She 
^^nve her linnd with graeeful alacrity to Lothair, and said in 
^^B hUBhed tone, hat every word of wbioh reached his ear, 
^^POne of the happiest hours of my life was eight o'clock this 
)' morning.' 

The Lord Lieutenant and the oonntj members then re- 
nted to the otlier end of the gallery, and ushered in the 
deputation of the magistracy of the county, congratulating 
their new brother, for Lotbair bad just beeo appointed to 
Uie bench, on his aeceesion to bin estates. The Lord Lieu- 
jnant himself rend the Fiddi-css, to which Lotbair replied 
hrith A propriety all acknowledged. Then came the address 
t the Mayor and Corporation of Grandchf-Ktcr, of ■which 
ity Lothair wus hereditary high sten'ard ; and then that of 
) tenantry, which waa cordial and characteristic. And 
e mikny were under the impression that tliia portion of 
B proceedings would terminate ; but it was not so. There 
i been some whispering between the Bishop and the 
rchdeacon, and the Rev. Dionysins Smylie bad, afler 
inference with bis superiors, twice left the chamber. It 
9 that the ck-rgy had thought fit to take Ibis occasion 
f congmtnlating Lothair on his great accession, and the 
mportiunale duties which it would fall on him to liilSl. 
) Bishop approached Ijothnir and adilreswd him in a 



250 LOTH AIR. 



whisper. Lothair seemed sarpri.sed and a Utile agitated, 
but apparently bowed assent. Then the Bishop and his 
staff proceeded to the end of the gallery and introduced a 
diocesan deputation, consisting of archdeacons and rural 
deans, who presented to Lothair a most uncompromising 
Bxldress, and begged his acceptance of a bible and prayer- 
book richly bound, and borne by the Bev. Dionysius Smylie 
on a cushion of velvet. 

The habitual pallor of the Cardinal's countenance became 
unusually wan ; the cheek of Clare Arundel was a crimson 
flush ; MonsignoreCatesby bit his lip ; Theodora looked with 
curious seriousness as if she were observing the manners of 
a foreigpi country ; St. Aldegonde snorted and pushed his 
hand through his hair, which had been arranged in unusual 
order. The great body of those present, unaware that this 
deputation was unexpected, were unmoved. 

It was a trial for Lothair, and scarcely a fair one. He 
was not unequal to it, and what he said was esteemed at the 
moment by all parties as satisfactory ; though the Arch- 
deacon in secret conclave afterwards observed, that he 
dwelt more on Religion than on the Church, and spoke of 
the Church of Christ and not of the Church of England. 
He thanked them for their present of volumes which all 
must reverence or respect. 

While all this was taking place within the Towers, vast 
bodies of people were assembling without. Besides the 
notables of the county and his tenantry and their families, 
which drained all the neighbouring villages, Lothair had 
forwarded several thousand tickets to the Mayor and Cor- 
poration of Grandchester, for distribution among their 
fellow-townsmen, who were invited to dine at Muriel and 
partake of the festivities of the day, and trains were hourly 
arriving with their eager and happy guests. The gardens 
were at once open for their unrestricted pleasure, but at 
two o'clock, according to the custom of the county undor 



LOTH AIR. 



as I 




eccfa circumstancea, Iiothair litid what iu fact was a leree, 
or rather a. drBwing.room, when every pereon who pos- 
Sexwd It ticket was permitted, and even invited and ex- 
prctcd, to pass through the wbole ratige of the state apart. 
8 of Muriel Towers, and at the earae time pay their 
a to, and make the acquaintance of, their lord. 
I Loliiair stood with his ohief frieiids near him, the ladies 
r Beat«d, and evsryOQe pasxed : farmers and towns- 
and honest folic down to the stokers of the trains 
I Grandchester, with whose presence St. Aldegonde 
I mnch pleased, and whom he carefully addressed as 
Bipy passed by. 

\ After this great reception lliey nil (lined in parilionti in 
> park : one thousand tenantry by themselves and at a 
pxed hoQr; the miscellaneoun multJCuile in a hnge crimsan 
tent, very iofty, with many Rags, and in which waa served 
a banquet that neTcr stopped till sunset, so that in time all 
might he satisfied ; the notables and deputations, with 
Uie g'nests in the bouse, lunched in the armoury. It was 
i bright day, and there was unceasing muBic, 
I In the course of the afternoon, Lothair visited the 
} his health was proposed and pledged, in 
e first by one of his tenants, and in the other by a work- 
I, both orators of repute ; and ho addressed and thanked 
B friends. This immense multitude, orderly and joyous, 
Mmeit about the parks and gardens, or danced on a plnt- 
D which the prescient experioce of Mr. Giles had pro- 
pidt^il for them in a dae tneahty, and whiled away tlio 
|pltaKaiit hours, in expectation a little feverish of the jm- 
^Ddin^ fireworkn, which, there was a rumour, were to be 
stylo of which neither Grandchester nor 
tlie county had any tradition. 

* I remember yonr words at Blenheim,' said Lothair to 
Theodora. ' You cannot say the present party is fotmdod 
a the principle of exclusiou.' 



^BlUi the princ 



2 52 LOTH AIR. 



In the meantime, about six o'clock, Lcihair dined in his 
great hall with his two hundred guests at a banquet where 
all the resources of nature and art seemed called npon to 
contribute to its luxury and splendour. The ladies who 
oad never before dined at a public dinner were particularlj 
delighted. They were delighted by the speechee, though 
they had very few ; they were delighted by the national 
anthem, all rising; particularly they were delighted by 
^ three times three and one cheer more,' and ' hip, hip.' It 
seemed to their unpractised ears like a great naval battle, 
or the end of the world, or anything else of unimaginable 
excitement, tumult, and confusion. 

The Lord Lieutenant proposed Lothair's health, and 
dexterously made his comparative igpiorance of the subject 
the cause of his attt^mpting a sketch of what he hoped 
miglit be the character of the person whose health he pro- 
posed. Everyone intuitively felt the resemblance was just 
and even complete, and Lothair confirmed their kind and 
san^ine anticipations by his terse and well-oonsidered 
reply. His proposition of the ladies' healths was a signal 
that the carriages were ready to take them, as arranged, to 
Muriel Mere. 

The sun had set in glory over the broad expanse of 
waters still glowing in the dying beam ; the people were 
assembled in thousands on the borders of the lake, in the 
centre of which was an island with a pavilion. Fanciful 
barges and gondolas of various shapes and colours were 
waiting for Lothair and his party, to carry them over to 
the pavilion, where they found a repast which became the 
hour and the scene : cofice and ices and whimsical drinks, 
which sultanas would sip in Arabian tales. No sooner 
were they seated than the sound of music was heard, dis- 
tant, but now nearer, till there came floating on the lake, 
outil it rested before the pavilion, a gigantic shell, larger 



LOTHAIR. a;3 

tlum tlio building xtseli, but holdiug in its goldeo eliiiI opal 
KHta Signor MftrdDiii and all bis orchestra. 
_ Then va,me a. conuerl rare in itHelf, aud ravishing in the 
▼ twilight; and in fiWnL half an huur, when the rosy 
flight biwl subsided into e. violet eve, and wlion the while 
MQ that had only Ufliiumpd began to glitter, the coJossiU 
II agBin moved un, and Lothtiir and his conipunionB em- 
4ctiig once more in tbcir gondolas, followed it in proces- 
1 about the lake. He ciirriwi in his own barque the 
, The4>dDra, and the Lord Lientenant, and was 
iwod hy a crew in Venetian dressea. As he handod Theo- 
1 her scat the inipalse was irresistible: be pi-essed 
r fannil to his lips. 
B'Baddi^nly a rocket rose with a hissing rash ^m the 
nrilion, It was instantly responded to from every quarter 
|Fthe lake. Then the island seemed on fire, and the scone 
r late festivity became a brilliant palnoc, with pedi- 
•niH and colamns and statues, bright in the blaze of 
Imired flame. For half an honr the sky seemed covered 
e lights and the bursting forms of many-coloured 
cttdcD fountains, like tlie eruption of a marine vol- 
% from diSerent parts of the water ; the statned 
ti the island changed and became a forest glowing 
b green light ; and finally a temple of cerulean tint, on 
bich appeared ill huge letters of prismatic colour the 
e of Lothair. 

I TliB people ciieored, but oven the voice of the people waa 
rcrcome by troops ofrockcte rising from every quarter of 
fllake, and by the thunder of artillery. When the noise 
] thu smoke had both snbsided, the name of Lothair still 
Hlble OU the temple but the letters quite white, it was 
ived that on every height for fifty miles round they 
d li) od a beacon. 



254 LOTHAIR. 



CHAPTER XLVm. 

Thb ball at Mariel which followed the concert on the lake 
was one of those balls which, it would seem, never would 
end. All the preliminary festivities, instead of exhausting 
the guests of Lothair, appeared only to have excited them, 
and rendered them more romantic and less tolerant of the 
routine of existence. They danced in the great gallery, 
which was brilliant and cix)wded, and they danced as they 
dance in a festive dream, with joy and the enthusiasm of 
gaiety. The fine ladies would sanction no exclusiveness. 
They did not confine their inspiring society, as is some- 
times too oflen the case, to the Brecons and the Bertrams 
and the Carisbrookes ; they danced {al\y and freely with 
the youth of the county, and felt that in so doing they 
were honouring and gratifying their host. 

At one o'clock they supped in the armoury, which was 
illuminated for the first time, and a banquet in a scene so 
picturesque and resplendent renovated not merely their 
physical energies. At four o'clock the Duchess and a few 
others quietly disappeared, but her daughters remained, 
and St. Aldcgonde danced endless reels, which was a form 
in which he preferred to worship Terpsichore. Perceiving 
by an open window that it was dawn, he came up to 
Lothair and said, ' This is a case of breakfast.' 

Happy and frolicsome suggestion ! The invitations cir- 
culated, and it was soon known that they were all to gather 
at the matin meal. 

' I am BO sorry that her Grace has retired,* said Hugo 
Bohun to Lady St. Aldegonde, as he fed her with bread and 
butter, * because she always likes early breakfasts in the 
country.' 



LOTH AIR. 



ass 



Tho sun was sliioiiig as the gneats of the house reiirud, 
Kud sank into soachi^a from which it eeemed tLey never 
ccnld rise agftin ; bnt, long after this, ibe shouts of servants 
Kcd the RcnlHe of carringi^s intimated that the company in 
geoeml wei« not so fortunate and expeditious in their re- 
tiremeiit from the Bcone ; and the Helda were all busy, and 
eren the towus awake, when the great body of Uie wearied 
but delighted wassajlers returned from celebrating the 
majority of Lothair. 

In tlie vast and atat^smatililre programnio of the festivi- 
ties of the week, which had been prepared by Mr. and M:'S. 
Putney Giles, aomething of interest and importance had 
been appropriated to the morrow, but it waa necessary to 
erase all this ; and for a eimple reason : no human being on 
tho mon-ow mom even appeared; one might say, even 
Stirred. After all the gay tumult in which even thousands 
hud joined, Uuiie! Towers on the morrow presented a Kcciie 
which only eould have been equalled by the castle in the 
ftiry tale inhabited by the Sleeping Beanty. 

At length, about two hoars after noon, bells began to 
■onnd which were not always answered. Then a languid 
boaaohold prepared a meal of nliicb no one for a time ptir- 
touk, till at lost a Jlonsignove appeared and a rival AngUcsin 
OP two, TliCD St. Aldcgonde came in with a troop of men 
who had been bathing in the mere, and called loudly for 
kidneys, which happened to bo tho only thing not at hand, 
S!i ia always the case. St. Aldegonde always required kid. 
neys when he had sate up all night and bathed. ' But the 
odd thing is,' be said, 'you never can get anything to eat 
in these houses. Their infernal cooks eixiil everything. 
That ts why I hntu staying with Bertha's people in the 
north at the end of the year. What 1 want in November 
a t. slice of cod and a. beefs<«ak, and by Jove I never could 
got them : 1 was obliged to come to town. It is no joke to 
hava to travel thi'ee huiulred miles for a slice of cod iLod & 
banrstcuk.* 



256 LOTHAIR. 



Notwithstanding all tkis, however, such is the magio of 
custom, that by snnset civilisation had resumed its reign at* 
Muriel Towers. The party were assembled before dinner in 
the saloon, and really looked as fresh and bright as if tiie 
exhausting and tumultuous yesterday had never happened. 
The dinner, too, notwithstanding the criticism of St. Alde- 
gonde, was first-rate, and pleased palates not so simply 
fastidious as his own. The Bishop and his suite were to 
depart on the morrow, but the Cardinal was to remain. 
His Eminence talked much to Mrs. Campian, by whom, 
from the first, he was much struck. He was aware that 
she was bom a Roman, and was not surprised that, having 
married a citizen of the United States, her sympathies were 
what are styled liberal ; but this only stimulated his anxious 
resolution to accomplish her conversion, both religious and 
political. He recognised in her a being whose intelligence, 
imagination, and grandeur of character might be of in- 
valuable service to the Church. 

In the evening Monsieur Raphael and his sister, and 
their colleagues, gave a representation which was extremely 
well done. There was no theatre at Muriel, but Apollonia 
had felicitously arranged a contiguous saloon for the oc> 
casion, and, as everybody was at ease in an arm-chair, they 
all agreed it was preferable to a regular theatre. 

On the morrow they were to lunch with the Mayor and 
Corporation of Grandchester and view some of the princi- 
pal factories ; on the next day the county gave a dinner to 
Lothair in their hall, the Lord Lieutenant in the chair ; on 
Friday there was to be a ball at Grandchester given by the 
county and city united to celebrate the great local event. 
It was whispered that this was to be a considerable 
afiair. There was not an hour of the week that was not 
appropriated to some festive ceremony. 

It happened on the morning of Thursday, the Cardinal 
beine: alone with Lothair, tritnsactinfir some lineerinff buRi. 



LOTH AIR. 



=57 



avftg connected with the guardianship, and on hia legs ss be 
s{>olEe, that he said, * We live id snch a happy tumult Let«, 
my dear child, that I have never had an opportuuitjr of 
•ip>-aking Id yon on one or two points which iiiWrest me 
and should DOl be uninteresting to yon. 1 remember a 
pleasant momirg-waUj we had in the park at Vauxe, wben 
we began a conTersation which we never &uif>hed. What say 
yon to a repetition of our stroll ? 'Tis a lovely day, and I 
dare say we might escape by this window, and ga.in some 
given retreat without anyone disturbing us,' 

* I am quite of yoar Eminence's mtnd,' eaid Lothur, 
taking up a wide-awake, 'and I will lead you where it is 
not likely we shall be diHturbcd.' 

So winding their way through the pleasure- grounds, thoy 
^nt«rcd hy u wicket a part of the park where the sunny 
u wandered among the tall fern and wild groves 
If renerable oaks. 
'1 sotnettmes feel,' Miid the Cardinal, 'that T may have 
D too punctilious in avoiding conversation with yon on a 
t^ect the most interesting and important to man. Bat I 
It a delicacy in exerting my influence as a guftrdinu on a 
jq'eot my relations to which, wlicn your dear fiLthcr ap- 
inied. tue to that office, wei-e bo different from those which 
w exist. But yon are now year own master ; I can use 
Bcontml over yon but that influence which the words of 
ptli niust always exercise over an ingenuous mind." 

a Eminence paused for a moment and looked at hii 
DpauJon ; but Lothotr remained silent, with hia eyes 

i Dpon the ground. 
'* It has always been a source of aatisfiiction, I would 
^■en say consolation, (o me/ reenmcd the Cardinal, 'tc 









; that your disposition waa 



rerereutial, which is the highest order of tempereiment, and 
bringB ns nearest to the angels. But we live in times of 
difficulty ftnd danger, extreme difficulty and danger: a 



258 LOTH AIR. 

roligions disposition maj snffice for youth in tlie tranquil 
hour, and he may 6nd, in due season, his appointed resting- 
place : hnt these are days of imminent peril ; the sool re- 
qoires a Ranctuary. Is yonrs at hand ? ' 

The Cardinal pansed, and Lothair was ohliged to meet a 
direct appeal. He said then, after a momentary hesitatioD, 
' When yon last spoke to me, sir, on these grave matters, 
I said I was in a state of grt^t despondency. My situation 
now is not so much despondent as perplexed.* 

* And I wish yon to tell me the nature of yonr perplexity,' 
replied the Cardinal, ' for there is no anxious embarrass- 
m(>nt of mind which Divine truth cannot disentangle and 
allav/ 

* Well,* said Lothair, ' I must say I am often perplexed 
nt the differences which obtrude themselves between Divins 
truth and human knowledge.* 

* Those are inevitable,' said the Cardinal. * Divine truth 
being unclianjjeable, and human knowledge changing every 
century ; rather, I should say, every generation.' 

' Perhaps, instead of human knowledge, I should have 
said human projrress,* rejoined Lothair. 

* Exactly,' said the Cardinal ; * but what is progress ? 
Movement. But what if it be movement in the wrong 
direction ? WTiat if it be a departure from Divine truth ? * 

* But I cannot understand why religion should be incon- 
sistent with civilisation,* said Lothair. 

* Religion is civilisation,* said the Cardinal ; ' the highest: 
it is a reclamation of man from savageness by the Almighty 
What the world calls civilisation, as distinguished from 
religion, is a retrograde movement, and will ultimately 
lead us back to the barbarism from wliich we have escaped. 
For instance, you talk of progress ; what is the chief social 
movement of all the countries that three centuries jwejo 
separated from the unity of the Church of Clirist ? Tbo 
rejection of the sacrament of Christian matrimony. The 



LOTH AIR. 



3S9 



>dDction of the Inw of dirnrce, wliicb is, in farl, only a 

iaddle term to the abolition of marriaaie. What does that 

The eitinction of the home and the honsehold on 

J'hich God has rc<Rt«d ciiTlisation. If thorD be no home, 

i child bclonpia to tlie Btate, not to the parent. Tlie 

Itelo edncfttep tha child, and vrithout religion, hecanse tho 

cimntry of progTBSa acknowledges no religion. 

IT every man is not only to think aa ho likes, but to writo 

I speak aa he likes, and to sow with both hands 

nst where he will, errors, hcresiea, and blasphemies, 

■llhcnit any authority cm earth to restrain the scnttering 

:ed of Dniversal desolation. And thia STRtem, 

(ihtch woald sabstitote for domestic sentiment and Divine 

^lief the onlimif^ and licentiona action of hnraan int«U 

t and human will, is called progress. What 13 it bnt a 

reolt agiuRst God ! ' 

ire I wish there were only one Chnrch and on* 

plijirion,' Raid Loth»ir. 

'There is only one Charch Hud only o 

Cardinal; 'all other forms and phn 

I, without rftot, or sn balance, ■ 

wic at that nnhappy Germany, once so 

teformatioii. What they call the leading journal tells na 

p>daj, that it is a question there whether fonr-lifths or 

^ree-fonrtlis of tho population believe in Christiaoity, 

e jiHrtion of it hiLH already gone hack, I understand, to 

jHcHBKtt Nip. Look at this unfortonatA land, divided, sub- 

Btvided, par(«lled ont in infinite BchiMm. with new oraclea 

l»ery day, and each more dist.inpuiahed for (he narrowness 

if bis intcllec't or the loudness of his Inngs ; once the land 

if mints and acholara, and people in pioua pilgrimages, and 

Inding always nolaco and support in the divine offices of an 

r-present Choreh, which were a true though a faint 

B of llie boantifnl future that awaited matL Why, only 

;nturiea of this rebellion against the Moat High 



) religion,' i 



coherency, 
irond of its 



26o LOTHAIR, 



have piodaced thronghont the world, on the subject the 
most important that man shonld possess a clear, firm faith, 
an anarchy of opinion throwing ont eyery monstrons and 
fantastic form, from a caricature of the Greek philosophy 
to a revival of Fetism.' 

* It is a chaos,' said Lothair, with a sigh. 

'From which I wish to save yon,' said the Cardinal, 
with some eagerness. 'This is not a time to hesitate. 
Yon most be for God, or for Antichrist. The Church calls 
npon her children.' 

' I am not nnfaithfii] to the Chnrch,' said Lothair, 
' which was the Chnrch of my fathers.' 

* The Chnrch of England,' said the CardinaL ' It was 
mine. I think of it ever with tenderness and pity. I^fcr- 
1 lament made the Church of England, and Parliament will 
nnmake the Church of England. The Church of England 
is not the Chnrch of the English. Its fiftte is sealed. It 
will soon become a sect, and all sects are fantastic. It will 
adopt new dogmas, or it will abjure old ones ; anything to 
disting^sh it from the non-conforming herd in which, 
nevertheless, it will be its fate to merge. The only con- 
soling hope is that, when it falls, many of its children, by 
the aid of the Blessed Virgin, may return to Christ.' 

* What I regret, sir,' said Lothair, * is that the Chnrch of 
Rome should have placed itself in antagonism with political 
liberty. This adds to the difficulties which the religious 
cause has to encounter ; for it seems impossible to deny 
that political freedom is now the sovereign passion of 
communities.' 

' I cannot admit,' replied the Cardinal, ' that the Church 
is in antagonism with political freedom. On the contrary, 
in my opinion, there can be no political freedom which is 
not founded on Divine authority ; otherwise it can be at the 
best but a specious phantom of license inevitably termina> 
ting in anarchy. The rights and liberties of the people of 



LOTH AIR. 



361 



Ireland bare no odvocntos except the ChDrch ; beuauK 
tliere, political freodam is foanded on Divine aathoritj ; 
bot if yon mttaii by political fTcedom the echemea of the 
iltmuiimti and the frcemasooB which perpetually torture the 
Continent, all the dark coospirticic9 of the secret souieties, 
tberp, I admit, tbs Cbnrch ia in antagonism with anch 
Bspirations after liberty j those aapirationH, in fact, are 
blasphemy and plnndtr ; and if the Chnrch vrece to be 
destroyed, Europe woald be divided between the Athciat 
and the Commtiuist.' 

There wns a paoao ; the convertiation had nnexpectodly 
arrived at a point where neither party cared to parsno it. 
Lotbair felt be had said enongh ; the Cardinal waa dis- 
appointed with what Lotbair had raiid. His Eminence felt 
that his late ward waa not in that ripe state of probation 
which be bad fondly anticipated ; bat being a man not 
only of vivid perception, bnt also of fertile resource, while 
he seemed to close the present conversation, ho almost 
immediately pursaed his ohject by anolhnr combination of 
inefuis. Noticing an effect of sccneiy which pleased him, 
renunded bim of Stjria, and eo on, he suddenly said: 
'Too should travel." 

' Well, Bertram wants mo to go to Egypt with him,' 
Wid Lotbair. 

* A most interesting c 
rell worth viititinf^. It 

d HerodotDB still is in 

mething of Europe befor 



itry,' said the Cardinal, ' and 
fltonishing what a good gnida 
: land ! But you should know 
you go there. Egypt ia rather 
lid visit the chief 



^Lioflt 



land to end with. A young t 

ipitala of Europe, papecially the scats of [(■uruing and tbe 
If my advicp were asked by a young man who con- 
templated travelling on a proper scale, 1 should say begin 
with Rome. Almost all that Europe contains ia derived 
&om Rome, It is always best to go to the fountain-head, 
iO fltndy the ori^nTiaL The society too, thert^, is deli[;htfult 



262 LOTH AIR. 



I know none equal to it. That, if yon please, is civilisation, 
pion^ and refined. And the people, all so gifted and so 
good, so kind, so orderly, so charitable, so tmly ▼irtoons. 
I believe the Roman people to be the best people that ever 
lived, and this too while the secret societies have their 
foreign agents in every quarter, trying to corrupt them, 
but always in vain. If an act of political violence occurs, 
you may be sure it is confined entirely to foreigners.' 

' Our friends the St Jeromes are going to Rome,' said 
Lothair. 

I 'Well, and that would be pleasant for you. Think 

I seriously of this, my dear young friend. I could be of 
I some little service to you if you go to Borne, which, after 
I all, every man ought to do. I could put you in the way of 
easily becoming acquainted with all the right people, who 
' would take care that you saw Rome with profit and adf 
I vantage.' 

I Just at this moment, in a winding glade, they were met 

I abruptly by a third person. All seemed rather to start at 
the sudden rencounter ; and then Lothair eagerly advanced 
nnd welcomed the stranger with a profiered hand. 
' ' This is a most unexpected, but to me most agreeable, 

! meeting,' he said. ' Ton must now be my guest.* 
j ' That would be a great honour,' said the stranger, * but 

j one I cannot enjoy. I had to wait at the station a couple 
of hours or so for my train, and they told me if I strolled 
here I should find some pretty country. I have been so 
pleased with it, that I fear I have strolled too long, and I 
literally have not an instant at my command,' and he 
hurried away. 

* Who is that person f ' asked the Cardinal with some 
agitation. 

*■ I have not the slightest idea,' said Lothair. * All I know 
is» ho once saved my life.' 



LOTHAIR. 363 

' And all I know is,' said the Cardinal, ' he otux 
thraatened mine.' 

* StruDge ! ' MJd Lotliair, and then he mpidjy kvoudUkI 
to tho Cardinal hia adventure at the Fenian meeting. 

' titrouge '. ' echoed his Eminence. 



CHAPTER XLLS. 
Mrs. Campiak did not appear at lutichcon, which was ob- 
eervcd but not noticed. Afterwards, while Lothair was 
me arrangements Tor the amusomout of hia 
, and contriving thut the;^ i>bi)uld lit in with the 
bief incjdtnt of the day, which wa^ the bunc|aet given 
D bim by the vouuly, and whii:h it was settled the ladies 
were not to attend, the Colonel took him aside and said, 
' I do not think that Theodora will care to go out to-day,' 
'She it not unwell, I hope i' ' 

'Not exactly; but she bos bad some news, eome news of 
Bome friends, whiuh has disturbed her. And if you will 
excuse me, I will request your permiitsion not to attend tlie 
dinner to-dity, which I bad hoped to have had the honniiT 
of doing. Itul I think our plans must bo changed a Uttlo. 
1 almost tliiiik we shall not go to Scotlaud after alL' 

'Tbure is not the 8lij,'hte«t necessity for your going to 
the diancr. You will have plenty to keep you in couiil<3- 
'lome. Lord St. Aldegoude is not going, nor 1 
fiuioy any of them. I xball take the Duke with me and 
Lord Calloden, and if yon do not go, 1 shall take Mr. 
Putney Giles. The Lord Liontenant will meot us tliere, 
I am sorry about ^Irs. Campion, because 1 know slio is not 
Lrver put out by httle things. May I not see her in the 
jaorve of the d.iy P 1 should be very aurry that ihe day 
B<]|bould pass over without seeing hor,' 



264 LOTH AIR. 



^ Oh ! I dare say she will see jon in the course of the 
day, before jon go.' 

' When she likes. I shall not go ont to-day ; I shall keep 
in my rooms, always at her commands. Between onrselyes 
I shall not be sorry to have a quiet morning and collect my 
ideas a little. Speech-making is a new thing for me. I 
wish yon would tell me what to say to the county.' 

Lothair had appropriated to the Campians one of the 
most convenient and complete apartments in the castle. It 
consisted of four chambers, one of them a saloon which had 
been fitted up for his mother when she married ; a pretty 
saloon, hung with pale green silk, and portraits and scenes 
inlaid by Vanloo and Boacher. It was rather late in the 
aflemoou when Lothair received a message from Theodora 
in reply to the wish that he had expressed of seeing her. 

When he entered the room she was not seated, her 
countenance was serious. She advanced, and thanked him 
for wishing to see her, and regretted she could not receive 
him at an earlier hour. ' I fear it may have inconvenienced 
you,' she added ; ' bat my mind has been much disturbed, 
and too agitated for conversation.' 

* Even now I may be an intruder ? ' 

* No, it is past ; on the contrary, I wish to speak to you ; 
indeed, you are the only person with whom I could speak,' 
and she sate down. 

Her countenance, which was unusually pale when he en- 
tered, became flushed. ' It is not a subject for the festive 
hour of your life,' she said, ' but I cannot resist my fate.' 

* Your fate must always interest me,' murmured Lothair. 

* Yes, but my fate is the fate of ages and of nations,' 
said Theodora, throwing up her head with that tumult of 
the brow which he had once before noticed. 'Amid the 
tortures of my spirit at this moment, not the least is that 
there is only one person I can appeal to, and he is one to 
whom I have no right to make that appeal.' 



ri 



LOTHAIR. 

■If I bo ttat person,' eaid Lotliair, 'yon have every 
right, for I am devoted to yoo.' 

*Tc8; bul it is not personal devotion that is the qnalifi- 
catioD needed. It ia not Bympathy with me that would 
aothonse euch an appeiil. It mnst be sytnpiithy with a 
oauae, and a citnse for which I fear yon do not, perhaps I 
should say yon cannot, foet.' 

• Wby P ■ said Lothair, 

' Wby fihonld yon feel for my fallen conntry, who are 
the proudest citizen of the proudest of lands ? Why shoiild 
yoo feel for its debasing thraldom, yon who, in the rehgiona 
mystification of man. Lave at least the noble privile^^e of 
being a Prot«8tant ? ' 

' YoQ Bpeak of Rome ? ' 

' Yes, of the only thought I have or ever had. I apeak 
of tJiai country which first impressed upon the world a 
fi^eiieral and enduring form of masculine virtue ; the land 
of liberty, and law, and eloqoence, and military genius, n 
garrisoned by monka and governed by a doting priest,' 

' Everybody must bo intereatud about Rome,' said 
Lothair- ' Rome ia the country of the world, and even tha 
doling priest you talk of boasts of two hundred millions of 
subjeotB.' 

' If he were at Avignon again, I should Dot care for his 
boasts,' said Theodora. * I do not gr^dga him hia spiritual 
snbjecta ; I am content to leave his Bupcr^tition to Time. 
Time is no longer slow; hie scythe mowa quickly in this 
age. Bal when his debasing creeds are palmed oS on 
man by the authority of our glorious Capitol, and the 
slavery of the human mind is schemed and carried on in the 
Fomm, then, if there be real Roman blood left, and 1 
thank my Creator there b much, it is time for it to mount 
ftud move,' and she rose and walked up and down the 

' Toil have hud news from Rome P ' said Lothair. 



I 



266 LOTH AIR. 

'I have had news from Rome,' she replied, speakiiig 
slowly in a deep voice. And there was a pause. 

Then Lothair said, 'When yon have alluded to these 
matters before, you never spoke of them in a sanguine 
spirit.' 

' I have seen the cause triumph,' said Theodora ; * tlie 
sacred cause of truth, of justice, of national honour. I 
have sate at the feet of the triumvirate of the Roman 
Republic: men who for virtue, and genius, and warlike 
skill and valour, and every quality that exalts man, were 
never surpassed in the olden time ; no, not by the Gates 
and the Scipios ; and I have seen the blood of my own 
race poured like a rich vintage on the victorious Roman 
soiL My father fell, who in stature and in mien was a god ; 
and, since then, my beautiful brothers, with shapes to 
enshrine in temples ; and I have smiled amid the slaughter 
of my race, for I bi'lieved that Rome was free ; and yet all 
this vanished. How then, when we talked, could I be 
sanguine?' 

* And yet you are sanguine now ? ' said Lothair, with a 
scrutinising glance, and he rose and joined her, leaning 
slightly on tlie mantelpiece. 

' There was only one event that could secure the success 
of our efl'orts,' said Theodora, ' and that event was so im- 
probable that I had long rejected it &om calculation. It 
has happened, and Rome calls upon me to act.' 

*The Papalini are strong,* continued Theodora afler a 
pause ; * they have been long preparing for the French 
evacuation ; they have a considerable and disciplined force 
of Janissaries, a powerful artillery, the strong places of 
the city. The result of a rising under such circumstances 
might be more than doubtful ; if unsuccessful, to us it 
would be disastrous. It is necessary that the Roman States 
should be invaded, and the Papal army must then quit 
their capiud. We have no fear of them in the field. Yea,' 



LOTHAIR. 



36? J 



:> could sweep them trom tlie 1 
viU tliat be 'l 



she addfd with energy, ' 
fkce of tho earth ! ' 

' Bat the ami; of lUJj,' sud Lotlmlr, 
inert ? ' 

* There it is,' said Theodora. * That has been 
Ktcmibliug-blook. 1 Lave always known tLat if ever 
FiviiL'h quitted Rome it would be ou tlie underHtaridinj^ 
that tbu house of Sitvoy shoold iiiberit llie uohle oSice ui 
■(.■coring our servitude. He in whom I alouo confide 
would never credit thia, but my information in thin respecl 
was authentic. However, it is no longer nece^sai-y to 
discuss the question. News has come, and in no uncertain 
ihape, that whatever may have been the uuderHtaudiug, 
onder no circumsiaiices will tlie Italian army ent«r ths 
Roman States. We meat etrike, therefore, aud Rome will 
bo free Bat how am 1 tu elriko P We have neither 
money nor arms. We have only nien. I can give them 
no more, because I hiivo already given them erorything 
oxecpt my lii'e, which iii always theirs. As for my 
husband, who, 1 may say, wedded me on the battle-field, ma 
far as woallh was concerned he was then a priiii^e among 
pnnces, and wotild poor foi-th his treasure and his life with 
eijoal eagoniuss. But things have changed since Aspro- 
tnoiit*. The sti-iiggle in his own country has entirely i 
drprivcd him of revenues as great aa any forfeited by their 
luJian princehngs. In fact it is only by a chance that be 
ix independent. Had it not been for au excellent man, one 
«f your great English merchants, who was his agent hers 
and mannf^-d his atTairs, we should have been penniless. 
His judicious inveKtnicnts of the superfluity of our iu- 
comu, which at the time my husband never even noticed, 
have secured for Colonel Campian the mcana of that 
decorous life which he appji-clates, bnt no moi-e. As for 
myself these considerations are nothing. I will not say I 
Bhonld he insensible to u letinud hf'u with rellni 




268 LOTHAIR. 



panioni, if the spirit were content and the heart aereiie,' 
bat 1 never conld fully realise the abstract idea of what 
they call wealth ; I never conld look upon it except as a 
means to an end, and my end has generally been military 
materiaL Perhaps the vicissitudes of my life have made 
me insensible to what are caUed reverses of fortune, for 
when a child I remember sleeping on the moonlit flags 
of Paris, with no pillow except my tambourine, and I 
remember it not without delight. Let us sit down. I feel 
I am talking in an excited, injudicious, egotistical, rhap- 
sodical manner. I thought I was calm and I meant to 
have been clear^ But the fact is I am ashamed of myaelC 
I am doing a wrong thing and in a wrong manner. Bat I 
have had a sleepless night and a day of brooding thought. 
I meant once to have asked you to help me, and now 
I feel that you are the last person to whom I ought to 
appeal.' 

*ln that you are in error,' said Lothair rising and 
taking her hand with an expression of much g^vity ; 
* I am the right person for you to appeal to, the only 
person.' 

* Nay,' said Theodora, and she shook her head. 

*For I owe to you a debt that I never can repay,' 
continued Lothair. 'Had it not been for you, I should 
have remained what I was when we first met, a prejudiced, 
narrow-minded being, with contracted sympathies and 
fiilse knowledge, wasting my life on obsolete trifles, and 
utterly insensible to the privilege of living in this wondrous 
age of change and progress. Why, had it not been for you 
I should have at this very moment been lavishing my 
fortune on an ecclesiastical toy, which I think of with a 
blush. There may be, doubtless there are, opinions in 
which we may not agree ; but in our love of truth and 
justice there is no difierence, dearest lady. No ; though 
you must have felt tliat I am not, that no one oould be^ 



LOTH AIR. 369 

iusenirible to yoni beautj and iiiGnite cliarmB, still it is 
yocr consnuunftle character that baa jnstly faecinatod mj 
thonght and heart; and I have long reaolved, were I 
permitted, to duvote to jon mj fortnne and my life.' 



CHAPTER L. 

Thb month of Septflmbcr was considerably advanced, when 
B rnh, evidently from ita luggage fresh from the railway, 
nntered the conrtyard of Heibam House, of which the 
shattered windows indicated the absence of its master, the 
Cardinal, then in Italy. But it was evident that tha 
person who had arrived was expected, for before his 
servant could ring the hall bell the door opened, and a 
grave- looking doraestio advanced with much deference, 
and awaited the presence of no less a personage than 
MonKignore Berwick, 

'We have had a rough passage, good CliBbrd,' said the 
great man, alighting. * but I see you duly received my 
telegram. Yon are alwaya ready.' 

' I hope my Lord will find it not nn comfortable," said 
Clifford. ' I have prepared the little suite which yon 
mentioned, and have been carefol that there should be no 
ontward aign of anyone having arrived.' 

'And now,' said the Monsignore, stopping for a moment 
in tbe ball, 'hero ia a letter which mnat be instantly de- 
livered and by a trusty hand,* and he gave it to Ur. 
Cbfford, who, looking at the direction, nodded his head and 
Boid, ■ By no one but myself I will show my Lord to hia 
rooiDB, and depart with this instantly.' 

' And bring back a reply,' added the Monsignore, 

The well-lit room, the oheerful fire, the judicious refec- 
tion on a side table, were all circumstances which oiually 



^^ tion on a 



270 LOTHAIR. 



would bava been agreeable to a wearied traveller, boi 
Monsignore Berwick seemed little to regard ihem. Thoogh 
a man in general ffoperior to care and master of thonght, 
hi^ connienance was trembled and pensive even to de- 
jection. 

' Eren tbe winds and waves are against ns,* he exclaimed, 
too restless to be seated, and walking np and down tbe 
room with his arms behind his back. * That snch a straggle 
should fall to mj lot ! Why was I not a minister in the 
days of the Gregoija, the Innocents, even the Leos ! But 
this is craren. There shonld be inspiration in peril, and 
the g^reatest where peril is extreme. I am a Uttle npset 
with travel and the voyage and those telegrams not being 
answered. The good ClifiTord was wisely provident,* and 
lie approached the table and took one glass of wine. ' Gtx>d ! 
One must never despair in such a cause. And if the worse 
happens, it has happened before : and what then ? Suppose 
Avignon over again, or even Gaeta, or even Paris ? So 
long as we never relinquish our title to the Eternal City we 
shall be eternal. But then, some say, our enemies before 
were the sovereigns ; now it is the people. Is it so ? True 
we have vacquished kings and baffled emperors ; but the 
French Republic and the Roman Republic have alike 
reigned and ruled in the Vatican, and where are they? 
We have lost provinces, but we have also gained them. 
W« have twelve millions of subjects in the United States of 
An erica, and they will increase like the sands of the sea. 
St 11 it is a hideous thing to have come back, as it were, to 
th< days of the Constable of Bourbon, and to be contem- 
plating the siege of the Holy See, and massacre and pillage 
and ineffable horrors ! The Papacy may survive such cala- 
mities, as it undoubtedly will, but I shall scarcely figure in 
history if under my influence such visitations should accrue. 
If I had only to deal with men I would not admit of failore ; 
but when your antagoni(;t8 are human thoughts, represented 



LOTHAIR. 271 

hv invinible powers, there is Botnethmg tbat might baUIn a 
Machiavel and app^l a Borgia.' 

While he was meditating in this vein tho door opened, 
anil Mr. Clifibrd with some hasty action and speaking 
ra|iid!y esclftimed, 

' He aaid he wonid he here sooner than myself. His 
pftrriapo was at the door. I drive hack as fast aa possihie ; 
and indeed I hn&F something now in the court,' and he 
dimppeored. 

It wna only to nshor in, almost imroediately, a stately 
pirrsonage in on evening dress, and neariog a decoration of 
a high olaas, who saluted the MoDsignoro with great 
cordiality. 

'I am engnj;cd lo dine with the Pmssinu Ambassador, 
who has been obliged to come to town to receive a prince 
of the blood who is visiting tho dockyards here ; but I 
thought yon might he la.i«r than you cipecttd, and I 
ordered my carriage to be in waiting, so that wo have a 
good little hour, and I can come on to you again aflerwarda 
if that will not do.' 

'A little hour with ns is a long hour with other people, 
said tlie Monsignora, 'hecau.se we are Iriciida aud can Bpeab 
without windings. Yon are a tme friend to the Holy See; 
yon have proved it. We are in great trouble and need 
of aid." 

' I hear that things are uot altogether as we could wish,' 
said the gontlemiin in an evening dreas; ' but 1 hope, and 
slionld think, only annoyances.' 

' Dangers,' said Berwick, ' and great,' 

'How so?' 

' Well, wc have invasion threatening tia without and in- 
Bttrrection within,' naid Berwick. ' We might, thongh it is 
dosbtfol, BuccessftiUy encounter one of these perils, bnt 
their nnited action must be fatal.' 

■AH tliishaseotoe suddenly,' smd the gontlcnuin- 'Id 



LOTH AIR. 



ttie twiBinfr yon bad no fear, and our people wrote to us 
thai we might be perfectly tranquiL' 

* Just so,* said Berwick. * If we bad met a month ago I 
should bare told jon the same thing. A month ago the 
rerolution seemed lifeless, penniless; without a fntare, 
withoat a resooroe. They had no money, no credit, no men. 
At present, qnietly hot regalarly, they are assembling by 
thonaands on oar firontiers; they have to onr knowledge 
received two large consignments of small arms, and ap- 
parently have unlimited credit with the trade, both in 
Birmingham and Li^ge ; they have even artillery ; every- 
thing is paid for in coin or in good bills ; and, worst of all, 
they have a man, the most consummate soldier in Europe. 
I thought he was at New York, and was in hopes he would 
never have rccrossed the Atlantic; but I know that he 
passed through Florence a fortnight ago, and I have seen a 
man who says he spoke to him at Nami.' 

*The Italian government must stop all this,' said the 
gentleman. 

' They do not stop it,' said Berwick. • The government 
of his Holiness has made every representation to them: 
we have placed in their hands indubitable evidence of the 
illegal proceedings that are taking place and of the in- 
ternal dangers we experience in consequence of their 
exterior movements. But they do nothing: it is even 
believed that the royal troops are joining the insurgents, 
and Oaribaldi is spouting with impunity in every balcony 
of Florence.' 

* You may depend upon it that our government is making 
strong representations to the government of Florence.' 

* I come from Paris and elsewhere,' said Berwick with 
animation and perhaps a degree of impatience. 'I have 
seen everybody there, and I have heard everything. It ia 
not representations that are wanted from your govemmout; 
it is something of a different kind.' 



LOTH AIR. 



=73 



' But if yon huTe seen vmryhoAj »X P»rit and barl 
eveTTtliing, tiow can 1 help yOD ? ' 

' Bj acting npoa the goTemmeot here. A word bcna joo 
to the Eiigliah Minister would li»Te great wei^rht at tfaia 
jiincrtiire. Queen Victoria Ja interested in the maiDtcnaBce 
<if the Papiil throne. Ber Catholic snbjeda are connted by 
millions. The icQaeDCC of his IloUness baa hcea hitherto 
exercised against th« Fenians. Praace would interfera if 
ahu wtis sure the step would not be disapprorcd by England.' 

■ Interfere ! ' said the geatleman. ' Oor retnm to Botne 
nlmost before we hare paid onr laandresaea' bills in the 
Eiemal City would be a diplomatic Bcandal.* 

' A diplomatic scandal would be preferablu to a European 
reroloiion.' 

' Sii|ipose we wore to have both ? ' and the gmtlemsn 
drew his chair near the tire. 

' 1 atn convinced that a want of firmness now,' Raid Ber- 
■KicV, ' woald li>ad to iucouccirablo calamities for aJI of os.' 

' Let ns nnderstand each other, my very dear friend 
Berwick,' said his companion, and be threw bis arm over 
the hack of his chair and looked the Boman full in his &oe. 
* Yon say yon bave been at Pans and elsewhere, and have 
seen everybody and heard eveiythicg.' 

' Something bas happened to ns also dnring the lost 
month, and as oneipectudly as to yonrselvee.' 

* Tbe secret societjes P Yes, lie spoke to me od that roiy 
point, and fally. 'Tis strange, but is only, in my opinion, as 
additional argument in favour of crushing the evil inSnenoe.' 

' Well, that be mast decide. But the facts are Rtartling, 
A month ago the secret SDcieties in France were only a 
name ; they existed only in the tncniory of the police, and 
almost as a tradition. At present wo know that they am 
in complete organisation, and what is most strange is, that 
ti>« prefects vriUi they have informaUou that the Mary- 



274 LOTH AIR. 



Anne associations, which are essentially republican and ai^ 
Bcattorcd about the provinces, are all revived and are 
astir. l^LkRT-ANif E, as you know, was the red name for the 
Republic years ago, and there always was a sort of myth 
that these societies had been founded by a woman. Of 
course that is all nonsense, but they keep it up ; it afiects 
(he public imagination, and my government has ondonbted 
evidence that the word of command has gone round to all 
these societies that Mary- Anne has returned and will issue 
her orders, which must be obeyed.' 

' The Church is stronger, and especially in the provinces, 
than the Mary-Anne societies,' said Berwick. 

* I hope so,' said his friend ; • but you see, my dear Mon- 
fdprnorc, the question with us is not so simple as you put it^ 
The secret societies will not tolerate another Roman inter- 
ference, to say nothing of the diplomatic hubbub, which 
we might, if necessary, defy ; but what if, taking advantage 
of the general indignation, your new kingdom of Italy may 
seize the golden opportunity of making a popular reputation, 
and declare herself the champion of national independence 
against the interference of the foreigner ? My friend, we 
tread on delicate ground.' 

* If Rome falls, not an existing dynasty in Europe will 
survive five years,' said Berwick. 

* It may bo so,' said his companion, but with no expres- 
sion of incredulity. 'You know how consistently and 
anxiously I have always laboured to support the authority 
of the Holy See, and to maintain its territorial position as 
the guarantee of its independence; but fate has decided 
against us. I cannot indulge in the belief that his Holi- 
ness will ever regain his lost provinces ; a capital without 
a country is an apparent anomaly, which I fear wiU ahvays 
embaiTuss us. We can treat the possession as the capital of 
Christendom, but, alas! all the world are not as good 
Christians as ourselves, and Christendom is a country zx) 



LOTH AIR. 



^7S 



longer ourked out in the mnp of the world. I wish,' 
contiiined the gentleman in a tone almost ooaziag. ' I wish 
iv« could devise some plan wliich, bnmanlj speaking, would 
secnre to his Ealiness the possession of his eartlity throne 
for ever. I wish I could induce you to conaider more 
fiivonrfibly that snggestian, that his Holiness should con- 
trnt himself with the ancient city, and, in possession of St. 
Peter's nnd the Vatican, leave the rest of Rome to the 
vulgar cores and tlie mandane nnsieties of the ti-ansient 
generation. Yea," he added with energy, 'if, my do.ti 
Berwick, you could see your way to thig, or something hko 
ihia, I think, even now and at once, I could ventni-e to 
undertnke that the Emperor, my master, would soon put an 

end to all these disturhances and dangers, and that * 

'Non posEnmns,' said Bervrick, sternly stopping him, 
'sooner than that Altiln, the Constable of Bowbon, or ths 
blnsphemoiiB oi^es of the Red Repnblic ! After all, it is 
the Charcli against the Hecrct societiua. They are the only 
two strong things in Europe, and will survive kings, era- 
perors, or parliaments.' 

At this moment there was a tnp at the door, and, bidden 

to enter, Mr. Cliil'ord preseutod himself with a sealed papec 

for the gentleman in evening dress, ' Your secretary, sir, 

brought this, which he said mast be givoc yon before you 

^L went to the Ambassador.' 

^1 ' 'Tis well,' said the gentlcn-an, and he rose, and with a. 
^^h wnntenanec of some excitement road the paper, which oon- 
^^B^uned a telegram; and then he xaid, ' This, I think, will 
^^^HluIp ua oot of oar immediato difficulties, my dear Monsig' 
^^^TBOre. Rattazd haa behaved like n man of sense, and has 
^^^ orrasted Garibaldi. But yon do not soem, my friend, aa 
pleased as I should have anticipated.' 

' Garibaldi has been arrested before,' aaid Ocrwick 
' Well, well, I am hopeful ; but I must go to my dinner. 
I will see foo aifato to-morrow.' 



276 LOTH AIR. 



CHAPTER LI. 

Tas coniinnons gathering of what, in popular laugoagei 
were styled the Graribaldi Volunteers, on the southern border 
of the Papal territory in the autumn of 18G7, was not the 
only or perhaps the greatest danger which then threatened 
the Holy See, though the one which most attracted its 
alarmed attention. The considerable numbers in which tiiia 
assemblage was suddenly occurring ; the fact that the son of 
the Liberator had already taken its command, and only as 
the precursor of his formidable sire ; the accredited rumour 
that Ghirelli at the head of a purely Roman legion was 
daily expected to join the frontier force ; that Nicotera was 
stirring in the old Neapolitan kingdom, while the Liberator 
himself at Florence and in other parts of Tuscany was even 
ostentatiously, certainly with impunity, preaching the new 
crusade and using all his irresLstible influence with the 
populace to excite their sympathies and to stimulate their 
energy, might well justify the extreme apprehension of the 
court of Rome. And yet dangers at least equal, and almost 
as close, were at the same time prepai'ing unnoticed and un^ 
known. 

Li tlie mountainous range between Fiascone and Viterbo, 
contiguous to the sea, is a valley surrounded by chains of 
steep and barren hills, but which is watered by a torrent 
scarcely dry even in summer ; so that the valley itself, which 
is not inconsiderable in its breadth, is never without ver- 
dure, while almost a forest of brushwood formed of shrubs, 
which in England we snouid consider rare, bounds the 
natural turf and ascends, sometimes to no inconsiderable 
height, the nearest hills. 

Into this valley, towards th^ middle of September, there 



LOTH AIR. 



277 




•ie61ed one &ftemooo, through a narrow pass, a bgiud of a.bout 
Sfly men, oU armed, and uonductiiig a cavaJcado or ratbec 
a caravan of mnlcB laden with munitions of war .-ind other 
stores. When they had gained the centre of tlie viilley, and 
■I general halt was accomplished, tlielr commander, accom- 
panied bj one who was apparently an officer, surveyed all 
tLe points of the locality ; and when their companions had 
rtMted and refreshed themselves, they gave the necessary 
orders for the preparation of a camp. The tncf already 
aJFordcd a snfficient area for their prenent wants, bat it was 
}d that on the morrow they must commence clear. 
iiig the brushwood. In the mean time one of the liveliest 
of military life soon rapidly developed itself: tha 
houses were pitched, the sentries appointed, the 
videttea established. The commissariat was limited to bread 
nnd olives, and generally the running stream, varied some- 
by coffee and always consoled by tobacco. 
On the third day, amidst their cheerful tliough by no 
leans light laboars, a second caravan arrived, evidently 
:pected and heartily welcomed. Then in another eight- 
id-forty hours, smaller bodies of men seemed to drop down 
Fm the hills, generally without atoi-es, but always armed, 
came from neighbouring islands in open boats, 
:d one morning a Considerable detachment crossed the 
water from Corsica. So that at the end of a week or t«u 
days there was an armed force of several hundred men in 
this once silent valley, now a. scene of constant stir and con- 
linmd animation, for some one or something was always 
Iviag, and from every quarter ; men and arras and stores 
ipt in from every wild pass of the mountains and every 
iltle rocky harbour of the coast. 
About this time, while tho officer in command was re- 
iwing a considerable portion of the troops, the rest labour- 
jfag in still clearirg the bmshwood and estahlisliing the 
;!biu^ works incidental to n oamp, half a dow'n horaomeo 



278 LOTH AIR. 



wore seen descending the monntain pass hj which tiie 
original body had entered the vallej. A scont had preceded 
^Jicm, and the troops with enthusiasm awaited the arrival of 
that leader a message from whose magic name had sum- 
moned them to this secluded rendezvous from many a dis- 
tant state and city. Unruffled, but with an inspiring fire 
in his pleased keen eye, that General answered their do- 
voted salute whom hitherto we have known by his travel- 
ling name of Captain Bruges. 

It was only towards the end of the preceding month that 
he had resolved to take the field ; but the organisation of 
the secret societies is so complete that he knew he could 
always almost instantly secure the assembling of a picked 
force in a particular place. The telegraph circulated its 
mystic messages to every part of France and Italy and 
Belgium, and to some old friends not so conveniently at 
hand, but who he doubted not would arrive in due time for 
action. He himself had employed the interval in forward- 
ing all necessary supplies, and he had passed through 
Florence in order that ho might confer with the great 
spirit of Italian movement and plan with him the impend, 
ing campaign. 

After he had passed in re^new the troops, the General, 
with the officers of his sta.fr who had accompanied him, 
Tisited on foot every part of the camp. Several of the men 
he recognised by name ; to all of them he addressed some 
inspiring word : a memory of combats in which they had 
fought together, or happy allusions to adventures of roman- 
tic peiil ; some question which indicated that local know- 
ledge which is magical for those who are away from 
home ; mixed with all this, sharp, clear enquiries as to the 
business of the hour, which proved the master of detail, 
severe in discipline but never deficient in sympathy for his 
troops. 

After sunset, enveloped in their cloaks, the General and 





1 


LOT HAIR. 379 


I 



hi£ oomp&uJODS, the party inoKased by the ofiii 

twen in conunnnd previous to his EUTiral, smoked their 

cigars runsd the camp Cre. 

' Well, Sarano,' said the General, ' I will look over j-our 
nmsior-roU to-morrow, bnt I should auppose 1 may count oo 
a iliou^and riSea or so. I want three, and we shall get 
tlicro. The ^reat man would have supplied them me ut 
oui-e, but I will not have hoys. He must send thoao on Ui 
Menutti. I told him, " 1 am not a man of genius ; 1 do not 
pretend to eonqner kingdoms with boys. Give mo old sol- 
diers, men who have served a couple of campnigns, and been 
scuntied with foor-and- twenty niouths of camp life, and I 
"rill not disgrace you or mysolf," ' 

' We have had no news from tlio other place for a long 
time,' siud Saraco, ' How is it ? ' 

' Wall enough. They are in the mountains ahout Nerohi, 
in a positiou not very ttnlike tliis ; numerically strong, foi 
Niootem has joini^d them, and Gliirelli with the Roman 
LogioQ is at bniiil. They must be quiet till the great man 
joins them ; 1 am told they are restless. There has been too 
mDch noiso about the whole busiucsx. Had they been as 
mam na yon have been, we should not have had all these 
rcpresentotionfl from France and these threatened diffionllins 
from thit quarter. The Fapalini would have complained 
and remonstrated, and Rattazzi could have conscientioasly 
aMiurod the people at Paris that they were dealing with ex- 
Bggertitions and bngboars j the very eiistoneu of the frontier 
forne would have become a controversy, and while the news- 
}i]i|H.-r9 were proving it was a myth nc slionid have been lu 
thu Vatican.' 

' Add when shall wo be there, Genci-al ? ' 

'I Jo not want to move for a month. T)y that time I 
shall linve two limusand five hundred or three thousand 
uf mj old comnuIrH, and the great man will have put 
bcyii ill trim. IVjth bodiL's njuat h'avo their monnUuns at 



' 1 I "'jr" I" trim. 1 



ns at ^^ 



I 




28o LOTHAIR. \ 



Uie same time, join in the open connirj and marck 
Kome.' 

As the nigbt advanced, several of the party rose and lef"^ 
the camp fire, some to their tents, some to their dntae^^ 
Two of the staff remained with the OeneraL 

* I am disappointed and nneasj that we have not hetiiB^ 
from Paris,' said one of them. 

* I am disappointed,' said the General, ' hut not nneftsy , ^ 
she never makes a mistake.' 

' The risk was too great,' rejoined the speaker in a de- 
pressed tone. 

' I do not see that^' said the OeneraL ' What is the 
risk ? Who coald possibly suspect the lady's maid of 
the Princess of Tivoli ! I am told that the Princess has 
become quite a favourite at the Tuileries.' 

* They say that the police is not so well informed as it 
ujhhI to be ; nevertheless, I confess I should be much happier 
were she sitting round this camp fire.' 

* Courage ! * said the General. * I do not believe in manj 
things, but I do believe in the divine Theodora. What say 
you, Captain Muriel ? I hope you are not offended by my 
criticism of young soldiers. You are the youngest in our 
band, but you have good military stuff in you, and will be 
soon seasoned.' 

* I feel I serve under a master of the art,* replied Lothair, 
' and will not take the gloomy view of Colonel Campian 
about our best friend, though I share all his disappoint- 
ment. It seems to me that detection is impossible. I am 
sure that I could not have recognised her when I handed 
the Princess into her carriage.' 

* The step was absolutely necessary/ said the General ; 
• no one could be trusted but herself, no other person has 
the influence. All our danger is from Franco. The Italian 
troops will never cross the firontier to attack us, rest 
assured of that. I have proof of it. And it is most difficult, 
ahnost in\ possible, for the French to return. There never 



LOTH AIR. 



2S1 



I 



would bave been ao idea of such a Bt«p, if Ihere had boon a 
little more discretion at Florence, leas of tbose manifestoes 
and speeches &om balcooies. fiat wo must not criticise 
one who is above (mticisin, Wttlioat liim we could do 
notbing, and when be stacnpa his ft«t men rifie Irom the 
earth. 1 will go the roanda; conm nith mc, Caplo)!! 
UorieL Colooel, 1 order juu to yuar teut: yoa ave a 
veteran ; the ooly one among us, nl loaal od the ataiT, who 
wouuded at Asproiuoiitu.' 



CUAPTEU LIT. 



Tbi life of tiothair hnil been so strange and exciting einca 
be quilted Mnriel Towers that he bad fonnd little time for 
that reflection in which he was once so ppone to indulge. 
Perhaps ho shrank from it- If he wanted an easy distrac- 
tion &om self-criticism (it may ho a convenient refuge from 
the scruples, or even the pangs, of conscience), it waa pro- 
fluely suppUed by tbe startling aOairs of whicb he formed 
k part, the singular characters with whom he was placed 
in contact, the risk and responsibility which seemed sud- 
denly to bave encompassed bim with their ever-stimalaling' 
luflacBco, and lastly, by tbe novelty of foreign travel, 
which even under ordinary circnmstances baa a tendency 
to ronse and stir up even ordinary men. 

So long ae Theodora was his companion in tbeir conncils 
Mod be waa listening to her deep plans and daring sugges- 
tions, enforced by that calm enthusiasm which was not the 
iMut powerful of her commanding spells, it is not perhaps 
mrprisittg tliat he should havo yielded without an effort to 
ber bewitching ascendency, fiat wbeu they had separated, 
and she liad embarked on that perilous enterprise of per- 
sonally conferring with tbe chiefs of those secret societies 
uf France wuicb bad been fancifDlly bnprised by her 



282 LOTH AIR. 






popular name and had nortored her tradition as a religio^^*^ 
faith, it might have been gnpposed that Lothair, left ^^ 
himself, might have recnrred to the earlier sentimentG 
his youth. But he was not lefl to himself. He was le=^=^^ 
with her injunctions, and the spirit of the oracle, though tl 
divinity was no longer visible, pervaded his mind and life. 

Lothair was to accompany the General as one of hi' 
aides-de-camp, and he was to meet Theodora again' oi 
what was contemplated as the field of memorable actioi 
Theodora had wisely calculated on the influence, beneficial.-^'^ 
in her view, which the character of a man like the GreneraL.*^^ 
would exercise over Lothair. This consunmiate militaiy^^^TJ 
leader, though he had pursued a daring career and was 
man of strong convictions, was distinguished by an alma 
unerring judgment and a mastery of method rarely sur- 
passed. Though he was without imagination or sentiment, 
there were occasions on which he had shown he was not 
deficient in a becoming sympathy, and he had a rapid and 
correct perception of character. He was a thoroughly 
honest man, and in the course of a life of great trial and 
vicissitude even envenomed foes had never impeached hia 
pure integrity. For the rest, he was unselfish, but severe 
in discipline, inflexible and even ruthless in the fulfilment 
of his purpose. A certain simplicity of speech and conduct, 
and a disinterestedness which even in little things was 
constantly exhibiting itself, gave to his character even 
charm, and Hindered personal intercourse with him highly 
agreeable. 

In the countless arrangements which had to be made, 
Lothair was never wearied in recognising and admiring tlie 
prescience and precision of his chief; and when the day 
had died, and for a moment they had ceased from their 
labours, or were travelling together, often through the 
night, Lothair found in the conversation of his companion, 
artless and unrestrained, a wonderful fimd of knowledge 



1 of meD and things, and that, too, i 

mcB and conntriea. 

The caunp in the Apermines naa nnt ravoarablc to useless 
rererie. Lothair found nnccaaing and deeply intereattng' 
occnpation in his nomerona and novel duties, and if his 
thong-hta for a moment wandered beyond the bnrren peaks 
aronnd hini, tiej were attTBcted and engrossed by one aah- 
ject, and that was, natarally, Theodora. From her tht^ 
had heard notliing since her departnre, eacept a mystcnoos 
though not discouraging telegraTn which was given to 
them bj Colonel Campian when he h»d joined them at 
Florence. It was difficnlt not to feel anxious about her, 
thongh ths Genei^ wonld never admit the poHsibitity of 
her personal danger. 

In this state of afiuirs, a week having elapsed since his 
uiival at the camp, Lothair, who had been visiting the 
ostpoeta, was snnunaned one morning by an orderly to the 
tent of the General. That personage was on his legs when 
Lotliair entered it, and was dictating to an offluer writing 
at ft taUe. 

'Toa onght to know my military secretary,' eaid the 
Oenoral as Lotbair entered, ' and therefore I will introduce 



Lothair was commencing a suitable reverence of reci^- 
nition as the secretary raised his head to receive it, when 
he snddenly stopped, ch.-inged colour, and for a moment 
■ecmvd to lose himsei^ and ihcn mnrmored, ' la it possible ? ' 

It wiis indeed Theodora : clothed in male attire she 
■cemcd a stripling. 

'Quite possible,' she said, 'and all is wclL Bnt I found 
it a longer bo.'^ineM than 1 h^ counted on. Tou see, there 
are *o many nevr persons wbu knew nio only by tradition, 
but with wbom it •taa necessary I xhoald personally confer. 
Uid I had more difficnlly. jnst now, in getting through 
« than 1 hiid unticipated. Tlic Pspiilini and the 



284 LOTH AIR. 





French arc both worrying onr allies in that city about 
gathering on the southom frontier, and there is a sort 
examination, true or false I will not aver, of all who depart^r— ^ 
However, I managed to pass with some soldiers' wives whc^-tf=^o 
were carrying £rait as far as Nami, and there I met an olc=^ ^^ 
comrade of Aspromonte, who is a cnstom-offioer now, bnl^ .^=st 
true to the good cause, and he, and his daughter who if 
with me, helped me through everything, and so I am wil 
my dear friends again.' 

After some slight conversation in this vein Theodora 
entered into a detailed narrative of her proceedings, and 
gave to them her views of the condition of affairs. 

' By one thing, above all others,' she said, ' I am im- 
pressed, and that is the unprecedented efforts which Borne 
is making to obtain the return of the French. There never 
was such influence exercised, such distinct offers made, 
such prospects intimated. You may prepare yourself for 
anything : a papal coronation, a family pontiff; I could 
hardly say a king of Rome, though he has been reminded 
of that royal fact. Our Mends have acted with equal 
energy and with perfect temper. The heads of the societies 
have met in council, and resolved that if France will refuse 
to interfere, no domestic disturbance shall be attempted 
during this reign, and they have communicated this reso- 
lution to head-quarters. He trusts them ; he knows they 
are honest men. They did something like this before the' 
Italian war, when he hesitated about heading the army 
from the fear of domestic revolution. Anxious to secure 
the freedom of Italy, they apprised him that if he personally / 
entered the fleld they would undertake to ensure tranquil. / 
lity at homo. The engagement was scrupulously fulfilled. | 
When I left Paris all looked well, but affairs require the I 
utmost vigilance and courage. It is a mighty struggle; ' 
it is a struggle between the Church and the secret societies; 
and it is a death struggle.' 



i 



r 



CIUPTKR Lin. 



Dqkuio tLe weL'k Uiat elapsed afber the an-ival of Theodora 
1( the camp, many recruits and considerable supplies of 
nilitaiy stores reached the VBilley. Theodora ronJly acted 
U secretary to the General, and lior labours were not light. 
Though Iiothair was frequently in her presence, they were 
aerer or rarely alone, and when they conversed together 
Imp t&lk jtas of details. The scouts, too, had brought 
infomiation, which iiiig:ht have been expected, that their 
nndozTous was no longer a secret at Rome. The garrison 
'of the neighbouring town of Viterbo had therefore been 
Increased, and there was even the conuueuccmeDt of an 
mntronched camp in tlie vicinity of that place, to bo garri- 
nned by a detachment of the le^on of Antibes and other 
good troops, so that any junction between the General and 
Garibaldi, if contemplated, should not be easily elfected. 

In the meantime, the life of the camp was buoy. The 
daily drill and exorcise of two thousand men was not & 
jllght aHair, and the constant changes in orders whioli the 
iiriral of bodies of recruits occasioned rendered this primary 
da^ more dilBcult ; the office of quartermaster reqaireJ 
(bo ntmost resource and temper ; the commissarint, which 
from the natnre of the country could depend little upon 

je, demanded ejttreme husbandry and forbeai-ance. Bat 
perhaps no labours wore more severe than those of the 
annoarera, the clink of whose instruments resounded nn- 

ingiy in the valley. And yet such is the magic of 
method, when directed by a master mind, thnt the whole 
Tireat on with the regularity and precision of machinery. 
Ifora tb&D two thousand armed men, all of whom had been 
fawiutomed to an irregular, some to a lawless life, wore ae 




286 LOTH AIR. 

docile as children ; animated, in general, bj wbat thi 
deemed a sacred cause, and led by a chief whom Hhcy^^O^ 
universalljr alike adored and feared. 

Among these wild warriors, Theodora, delicate and 
fragile, but with a mien of majesty, moved like the spirit ^^ 
of some other world, and was viewed by them with adminir- 
tion not unmixed with awe. Veterans round the camp fire ^ 
had told to the new recruits her deeds of prowess and 
devotion ; how triumphantly she had charged at Voltomo, 
and how heroically she had borne their standard when 
they were betrayed at fatal Aspromonte. 

The sun had sunk behind the mountains, but was still 
high in tlio western heaven, when a mounted lancer was 
observed descending a distant pass into the valley. The 
General and his staff had not long commenced their 
principal meal of the day, of which the disappearance of 
the sun behind the peak was the accustomed signal. This 
permitted them, without inconvenience, to take their simple 
repast in the open, but still warm, air. Theodora was seated 
l)etween the General and her husband, and her eye was the 
first that caught the figure of the distant but descending 
stranger. 

* What is that ? ' she asked. 
The General immediately using his telescope, after a ' 

moment's examination, said : 

* A lancer of the Royal Guard.' I 
All eyes were now fixed upon the movements of the 

horseman. He had descended the winding steep, and now i 
was tracking the craggy path which led into the plain. 
As he reached the precinct of the camp he was challenged ' 
but not detained. Nearer and nearer he approached, and ! 
it was evident from his uniform that the conjecture of his 
character by the General was correct. i 

* A deserter from the Gruard,' whispered Colonel Campian 
to liothair. , 



/ 



The liorseman was condacted by an ofBcor to tlie presence 
of the commaiider. When that preaeoce was reached the 
lani^er, still silent^ slowly lowered his tall w(;it|ion and 
offered tho General the despatch which was fastened to the 
1 of his spear. 
Every eye was on the countenance of their chief as he 
Bed the missive, but that countenance van alwaja 
■ntalile. It was observed, however, that be read tho 
T twic«. Looking np, the General said to the officer: 
Bee tltat the bearer is well quartered. This is for yon,' be 
1 in a low voice to Theodora, and he gave her an 
mre j ' read it quietly, and then come into my tent.' 
Theodora I'ead tho letter, and quietly ; though, without 
le preparatory hint, it might have been difficalt to have 
nccaled her emotion. Then, after a short pause, she 
m, and the General, requesting his comj>anions not to 
istnrb themselves, joined Iwe, and they proceeded in 
teues to bis tent. 

' He is arrested,' said the General when they had entered 
, ' and taken to Alessandria, where he is a close prisoner. 
"w ft blow, bnt I am more grieved than Huipriaed,' 
This waa the arrest of Garibaldi at Sinigaglia by the 
kalian Government, which had been commnnicated at 
texbam House to Mousignore Berwick by his evening 
Uritor. 

* How will it aSect opcrattons in tJie field ? ' enquired 
lieodora. 

* According to this despatch, in no de^n^e. Our original 
faro ia to be pnrsned, and acted npon tho moment we are 
Btdy. That should be in a fortnight, or perhaps three 
-eeks. Menoiti is to take the command on the southern 
mntier. Well, it may prevent jealoasius. I think I shall 
gnd Sarano there to reconnoitre ; he is well both with 
[■cetera and Ghirelli, and may keep tilings straight.' 

' Bat tliere ore other aSuirs besides operations in the 



288 LOTH AIR. 

field,' said Theodora, *and scaroelj less criticaL 
this,' and she gave him the enclosure, which ran in 
words: 

* The General will tell thee what has happened. Ha^ 
no fear for that. All will go right. It will not alter on 
plans a bnnch of grapes. Be perfectly easy aboat this 
country. No Italian soldier will ever cross the frontier 
except to combat the French. Write that on thy heart. 
Are other things as well ? other places P My advices are 
bad. All the prelates are on their knees to him, with 
blessings on their lips and curses in their pockets. Arch- 
bishop of Paris is as bad as any. Berwick is at Biarritz, 
an inexhaustible intriguer ; the only priest I fear. I hear 
fi'om one who never misled me that the Polhes brigade has 
orders to be in readiness. The Mary-Anne societies are 
!iot strong enough for the situation ; too local : he listens 
to them, but he lias given no pledge. We must go deeper. 
'Tig an aflkir of " Madbe Natura." Thou must see 
Colonna.* 

' Colonna is at Rome,* said the General, * and cannot be 
spared. He is acting President of the National Committee, 
and has enough upon his hands.' 

' I must see him,' said Theodora. 

' I had hoped I had heard the last of the *' Madre 
Natura,*' ' said the General with an air of discontent. 

' And the Neapolitans hope they have heard the last of 
the eruptions of their mountain,' said Theodora ; ' but the 
necessities of things are sterner stuff than the hopes of 
men.' 

' Its last effort appalled and outraged Europe,' said the 
Greneral. 

'Its last effort forced the French into Italy, and has 
&eod the country from the Alps to the Adriatic,' rejoined 
Theodora. 

' If the grea^ man had only boon as quiot as wo have 




fe 



LOTH AIR. 



td the Ooneral, lighting a cigar, ' we might havB 
Kome b^ this time.' 

B great man had been quiet, we sliould not h&ve 
rinnteer io our valley,' said Theodora. ' My faith 
Is implicit; he has boen right in everything, and 
IT fniltd except when he has been betrayed. 1 see 
Tor Rome exccpl- in his convictions and energy. I 
risb to die and feel I have devoted mj life only to 
lie triomph nf Savoyards who have sold their own 
I and of priests whose impostures bave degraded 

ithoae priests ! ' esclaimed the General. ' I really 
Bnch care for anything else. They say the Savoyard 
jfaad comrade, and at any rate he can charge like a 
But those iiricsta ! I Buttered them once ! Why 
fn any ? Why did I not bum down St. Peter's ? 
bd it, but Klirandola, with his history and his love 
tnd all that old furniture, would re.'^urvo it for U 
ff the true God and for the plory of Europe ! Fino 
ire bave aecomplishcd \ And now we are hero, 
blowing where we are, and, as it appears, hardly 
i what to do.* 

^, dear General," said Theodora, ' Wliero we are 
iresliold of Rome, and if we are wise we shall soon 
This arrest of our great friend is a misfortune, 
kn irredeemable one. I thoroughly credit what be 
Rit the Italian troops. Rest aseurcd he knows what 
liking about: they will never cross the frontier 
jBS. The danger is from another land. Rut there 
lao peril if wo are prompt and fii-m. Cli-ar your 
fall these dark feelings about the Madrr Natdra. 
I we require is that the most powerful and llio most 
IBOciatioii in Europe should ratify what the loenl 
\ of Fraeco hare already intimated. It will bo 
[' Send for Culonna, and leave the rcsl t* rao.' 



290 




CHAPTER LIV. 

Thi ' Madue Natura ' is the oldest, the most powerful, asd 
the most occult of the secret societies of Italy. Its mytUo 
origin reaches the era of paganism, and it is not imposnble 
that it may have been foanded by some of the despoil^ 
jirofessors of the ancient faith. As time advanced, tbe 
brotherhood assuned many outward forms, according to 
the varying spirit of the age : sometimes they were firee- 
masons, sometimes they were soldiers, sometimes artists, 
sometimes men of letters. But whether their external re- 
presentation were a lodge, a commandery, a studio, or an 
academy, their inward purpose was ever the same; and 
tliat was to cherish the memory, and, if possible, to secure 
the restoration, of the Roman republic, and to expel from 
the Aryan settlement of Romulus the creeds and sovereign^ 
of what they styled the Semitic invasion. 

The * Madre Natura * have a tradition that one of the 
most celeb nit utl of the Popes was admitted to their frater- 
nity as Carduial dei Medici, and that when he ascended 
the throne, mainly through their labours, he was called 
upon to co-operate in the fulfilment of the great idea. An 
individual who in his youth has been the member of a 
secret society, and subsequently ascends a throne, may find 
himself in an embarrassing position. This, however, ac- 
cording to the tradition, which there is some documentary 
ground to accredit, was not the perplexing lot of his Holi- 
ness, Pope Leo X. His tastes and convictions were in 
entire unison with his early engagements, and it is believed 
that he took an early and no unwilling opportunity of sub- 
mitting to the conclave a proposition to consider whether 
it was not both expedient and practicable to return to the 




LOTH AIR. 



291 



vA fiutb, for wbicli their temples had boon originally 
erected. 

The chicr tenet of the sociotj of 'Maork Natlba' is 

denoted by iu najiie. Tbej could conceive nothing more 

oigii&nt and ttnive be&utiiol, more provident ftod more 

wful, niore esseullftlly divine, than that Byalem of 

eative onler lo which they owed their bt^itig, Rud in 

was their privilege to eiist. But they differed 

a other schools of philosophy that have held this faith 

il thia singular particntar: they recognised the inability 

of the Latin race to pursue the worship of nature is an 

abtttroct spirit, and tliey desired to revive those eiqnisit* 

pcrsouifi cations of the aboonding {jaalitiea of the mighty 

mother which the Aryan genios had bequeathed to the 

admiration of man. Fartbenope was again to rule at 

Naples instead of Janaariits, and starveling enints and 

winking niadunitas were to reatcire their n.snrped altars to 

the god of the silver bow end the radiant daughter of the 

foaming wave. 

^^ Altfaongh the society of 'Madrb NjTCEiA " themselvM 

^^■Kcptod the allegorical inlerjtretation which the Neo- 

^^Vlfttonists had ptai^od upon tlie Pagan creeds during the 

^^■kt ages of Christianity, they coald not suppose that the 

^^■ijjalace could ever comprehend an exposition so reGned, 

^^■■t to say so fanciful. They guarded, therefore, against 

^1^ cormptions and abuses of the rehgion of nature by the 

nitira abolition of the priestly order, and in the principle 

that every man should be his own priest they believed they 

Wl foand tlie necessary security. 

As it was evident that the arrest of Garibaldi could not 

r kept Bei:i-et, the General thonght it most prudent to 

I himself the herald of its occarrence, which bo announced 

■ the troops in a manner aa httle discouraging as he conld 

It was dillicull (o eiteuuato the consequences of Bo 

i a blow, hut thry were a^sared that it was not a 



292 LOTH AIR. 



catastrophe, and would not in the slightest degree affect 
the execution of the plans preYioosl j resolved on. Two or 
three days later some increase of confidence was occasioned 
by the authentic intelligence that Garibaldi had been re- 
moved from his stem imprisonment at Alessandria, and 
conveyed to his island-home, Caprera, though still a pri 
Boncr. 

About this time, the General said to Lothair, *My 
secretary has occasion to go on an expedition. I shall 
send a small detachment of cavalry with her, and you will 
be at its head. She has requested that her husband should 
have this office, but that is impossible ; I cannot spare my 
best officer. It is your first command, and though I hope 
it will involve no great difficulty, there is no command 
that does not require courage and discretion. The dis- 
tance is not very great, and so long as you are in the 
mountains you will probably be safe ; but in leaving this 
range and gaining the southern Apennines, which is your 
point of arrival, you will have to cross the open country. 
I do not hear the Papalini are in force there; I believe 
thoy have concentrated themselves at Rome, and about 
Vitcrbo. If you meet any scouts and reconnoitring parties, 
you will be able to give a good account of them, and 
probably they will be as little anxious to encounter you as 
you to meet them. But we must be prepared for every- 
thing, and you may be threatened by the enemy in force ; 
in that case you will cross the Italian frontier, in the 
immediate neighbourhood of which you will keep during 
the passage of the open country, and surrender yourselves 
and your arms to the authorities. They will not be very 
severe ; but at whatever cost and whatever may be the 
odds, Theodora must never be a prisoner to the Papalini. 
You will depart to-morrow at dawn.* 

There is nothing so animating, so invigorating alike to 
body and soul, so truly delicious, as travelling among 



LOTH AIR. 



F 

^HbDnntainB in tbe oarljr bours of tbe day. The fresIiDeaR 
of uatnre falls npon a roapoosive fmine, and the nobiUt^ of 
the scene discards the petty thonghta that pesler ordinary 
life. So felt Captain Muriel, as with every military pre- 
oaation ho conducted his little troop and his preciona 
charge among the winding passes of the Apenninos ; at 
first dim in the matin twilight, then soft with iiicipietit 
day, then comscatiug with golden flashes. Sometimes 
they deaeended from the austere heights into the sylvau 
intricacies of cbcsaut forests, amid tbe mah of waters and 
the fragrant Stir of ancient trees ; and then again ascend- 
ing to lofty summits, ranges of interminable bills, grey or 
green, expanded before them, with ever and anon a glimpse 
of plains, and sometimes tbe splendour and the odour of 
tbe sea. 

Theodora rode a mule, which had been presented to the 
General by some admirer. It was an animal of remarkable 
beanty and intelligence, perfectly aware, apparently, of the 
importance of its present trust, and proud of its rich 
Bcooutremonta, its padded saddle of crimson velvet, and its 
silver bells. A couple of troopers formed tbe advanced 
gn&rd, and tbe same number at a certain distance fur- 
nished tbe rear. The body of the detachment, Gfteen 
strong, with the sunipter mnlea, generally followed Theo- 
dora, by wWose side, whenever the way permitted, rode 
their commander. Since be left England Lotliair had 
never been so much alone with Theodora. \Vliat struck 
liim most now, aa indeed previously at tbe camp, was that 
sba never alluded to the paat. For ber there would seem 
) be no Unriel Towers, no Belmont, no England. Tou 
ronld have supposed that she bad been born in the 
ponnines and bad never quitt«d them. All ber conversa- 
B details, political or mihtary. Not tliat her manner 
changed to Lotbair. It wsa not only aa kind as 
I bnt it was sometimes nnnsoally and c 




294 LOTHAIR. 



narily tender, as if she reproached herself for the too 
fireqaent and too evident adf^ng nwMinent id her thongbtB, 
and wished to intimate to bim that though her hrmin were 
absorbed, her he&rt was still gentle and true. 

Two hoars after noon thej halted in a green nook, near 
a beantifnl cascade that descended in a mist down a sylTsn 
clefl, and poured its pell acid stream, for their delightful 
use, into a natural basin of marble. The men picketed 
their horses, and their corporal, who was a man of the 
country and their guide, distributed their rations. All 
vied with each other in administering to the comfort and 
convenience of Theodora, and Lothair borered about her as 
a bee about a flower ; but she was silent, which be wished 
to impute to fatigue. But she said she was not at all 
fatigued, indeed quite fresh. Before thej resumed their 
journey he could not refrain firom observing on the beauty 
of their resting-place. She assented with a pleasing nod, 
and then resnming her accustomed abstraction she said : 
*The more I think, the more I am convinced that the 
battle is not to be fought in this country, but in France.' 

Af^er one more ascent, and that comparatively a gentle 
one, it was evident that they were gradually emerging 
from the mountainous region. Their course since their 
halting lay through a spur of the chief chain they had 
hitherto pursued, and a little after sunset they arrived at a 
farm-house, which the corporal informed his Captain was 
the intended quarter of Theodora for the night, as the 
horses could proceed no farther without rest. At dawn 
they wore to resume their way, and soon to cross the 
oj)en country, where danger, if any, was to be anticipated. 

The farmer was frightened when he was suomioned from 
his hoQKe by a party of armed men ; but having some good 
ducats given him in advance, and being assured they were 
all Cliristians, he took heart aud laboured to do wliat they 
desired. Theodora duly found herself in becoming quaj> 



LOTI-JAIR. 39s 

lOT^ Knd a acDtiy was inaiiut«il at her residenre. The 
troopers, who had boea quite coni«ut to wnip thomselvDa 
VD their cloaks and pass the night in the air, were pleased 
to find tio despicable accommodatioD in thu oaUbaildinga 
of tlie firm, and 8ti)l more with the proffered viiitngo of 
their h(.st. Aa for Loll.nir, ho envuloped himsolf iu hia 
mantle and threw hitnsclf on a bed of sacks, with a trosit 
of Indian com for Lis pillow, and though lie began bj 
musing over Theodora, in a few rainal«8 he waa inimcraed 
in that profound and dreamless sleep which a life of action 
aad monnt^un air combined can alone bccuiv. 



CHAPTER LV. 

ItoK open cnnniiy extending from the Apennines to the 
y gates of Horoe, and which they had now to cross, waa 
B geaemi a dueert ; a plain clothed wiih a coarse regeta- 
I nndulaling with an interminuble series of low 
>iitti moundB, without any of iho grace of form 
bich always attends the dispositiou uf nature. Natni-e 
t created them. They were the oirnpriiig of miin 
bid time, and of their rival powerx of destmction. Agi^H 
if ciTllisutian were engulfed in tliis drear expanse. They 
were the tombs of empires and tlii> sfjuildires of contending 
rikcos. The CaniixigTift prciper Liis at leant the grace nt 
aijDodncls t« break its mimutuuy, and evuvywhere tlio 
oemlean a|>ell of distance ; but in tliis grim solitude anti- 
qnity has loft only the memory of ilH violuuce and critu©B, 
Knd nothiug is beaatifal except the sity. 

The orders of tiie General to direct their coarse as much 
fe possible in the vicinity of the Italian frutilii-'r, though it 
thenod their journey, ftoniuwlmt niitit^ted its dreari- 
ji hoar uft^r iioou, after traversing some flinty 



296 LOTH AIR. 



fields, they observed in the distance aa olive wood, be- 
neath the pale shade of which, and among whose twisted 
branches and contorted roots, they had contemplated find« 
ing a halting-place. But here the advanced goard observed 
already an encampment, and one of them rode back to 
report the discovery. 

A needless alarm ; for after a due reconnaissance, they 
we're ascertained to be friends, a band of patriots abont to 
join ihe General in hi, encampment among the moxmtaina. 
They reported that a division of the Italian army was 
assembled in force upon the frontier, but that several 
regiments had already signified to their commanders that 
they would not fight against Garibaldi or his friends. 
They confirmed also the news that the great leader himself 
was a prisoner at Caprcra ; that although his son Menotti 
by his comniand had withdi^awn from Nerola, his force was 
really increased by the junction of Ghirelli and the Roman 
legion, twelve hundred strong, and that five hundred rifle- 
men would join the General in the course of the week. 

A little before sunset they had completed the passage of 
the open country, and had entered the opposite branch of 
tlio Apennines, which they had long observed in the 
distance. After wandering among some rocky ground, 
they entered a defile amid hills covered with ilex, and 
thence emerging found themselves in a valley of some 
expanse and considerable cultivation; bright crops, vine- 
yards in which the vine was married to the elm, orchards 
full of fruit, and groves of olive ; in the distance blue hills 
that were becoming dark in the twilight, and in the oentre 
of the plain, upon a gentle and wooded elevation, a vast 
pile of building, the exact character of which at this hour 
it was difficult to recognise, for even as Theodora men- 
tioned to Lothair that they now beheld the object of their 
journey, the twilight seemed to vanish and the stars glis- 
tened in the dark heavens. 



! ( 



LOTH AIR. 397 

y Though the building seemed so ncnr, it was yet a oon- 

Iderable time before they reached the wooded hill, and 

though its ascent was easy, it was tu^ht before they halted 
in face of a hnge gate flanked by high etoce walls. A 
sangle light in oiie of the windows of tlie vast pile which it 
enclosed was the only evidence of hnmnn habitation. 

The corporal sotmded a bngle, and immediately the light 

moved and noiaca were heard ; the opening of the hall 

doors, and then the snddcn flame of torches, and the 

advent of many feet. The great gate slowly opened, and a 

steward and eeveral eerving men appeared. The steward 

Idresaed Theodora and Lothair, and invited tliem to 

jBraount and enter what now appeared to be a garden 

^th etatnes and terraces and I'ountjiins and roWH of 

SB, its iulinite dila|ndation not being recognisable in 

e deceptive hour; and he informed tho escort tliat their 

[Bariers were prepared for them, to which llicy were at 

t attended. Guiding their Captain and hia charge, 

bey soon approached a double flight of steps, and aj^cend- 

, reached the main terrace from which the building 

mediately rose. It was, in truth, a castle of the middle 

3 which a Roman prince, nt the commencement of 

I last century, had engrafted the character of one of 

B vast and ornate villas then the mode, but its original 

icter still asserted itself, and notwithstanding its Tns- 

1 basement and its Ionic pilasters, its rich pediments 

■id delicate volutes, in the distant 1andsca])e it stilt 

. fortress in the commanding position which 

ftcamH the residence of a feudal cliief. 

I They entered tlirough a Pulladian vestibule a hull which 

■ttwy foit must be of huge dimensions, thongh with tho aid 

of a single torch it was impossible to trace its limits, either 

of eitent or of elevation. Then bowing before them, uid 

Jightiiig as it were their immediate steps, the steward 

1 down a long and lofty corridor, which led to 



298 LOTH AIR. 



tlia entranoe of seyerml chambera, aU vast, with litUe farni- 
tare, bat their walls corered with pictares At length he 
opened a door and adhered them into a saloon, which was 
in itself bright and glowing, bat of which the livelj air 
was heightened by its contrast with the preceding scene. 
It was lofty, and hang with faded satin in gilded panels 
still bright. An ancient chandelier of Venetian crystal 
hang iUamined &om the painted ceiling, and on the silver 
dogs of the marble hearth a fresh block of cedar had jost 
been thrown and blaaeed with aromatic light. 

A lady came forward and embraced Theodora, and then 
greeted Lothair with cordiality. *We mast dine to-day 
even later than yoa do in London,' said the Princess of 
Tivoli, * bat we have been expecting yon these two hoars.* 
Then she drew Theodora aside, and said, ' He is here ; but 
yoa mast be tired, my best beloved. As some wise man 
said : " Business to-morrow." * 

* No, no,* said Theodora ; * now, now : I am never tired. 
The only thing that eidiaasts me is suspense.' 

' It shall be so. At present I will take yoa away to 
shake the dust off your armour; and Serafino attend to 
Captain Muriel.* 



CHAPTER LVL 



When they assembled again in the saloon there was an 
addition to their party in the person of a gentleman of 
distinguished appearance. His age could hardly have 
much exceeded that of thirty, but time had agitated his 
truly Roman countenance, one which we now find only in 
consular and imperial busts, or in the chance visage of a 
Roman shepherd or a Neapolitan bandit. He was a shade 
above the middle height, with a frame of well-knit synv- 



His proud head wRa proudly placed on broad 



dldcni, imd neither time n 



■ indul-i 



3 bod marred hui 



■fenotl 



waist. His dark brown bair was short and hya- 
cintliiiie, close to bia white forehead, and untanilly Rhowini^ 
his small ears. Ee wore no whiskers, aud bis mouBtoclio 
was limited to the centre of hia upper lip. 

When TLoodora entered and offered him her hand he 
pressed it to his lips with gravity and proud homage, and 
then their hostess said, ' Captaiu Mnriel, let me present yon 
to a Prince who will not bear his titles, and whom, there- 
fore, I most call by his name — Romolo Colonna.* 

Tbe large folding doora, richly jiainted and gilt, though 

from neglect and time, and unstained by columns of 

ona marbles, were suddenly opened and revealed 

biT saloon, in whicb was a round table brightly lighted. 

Mid to whicb the Princess invited her friends. 

Their conversation at dinner was livi'ly and sustained! 
the travels of the last two days formed a natural part, and 
wero apposite to commence with, but thpy woro soon en- 
grossed in the great subject of thuir lives; and Colonna, 
who had left Rome only four- and-t wen ty honrs, gave them 
int^fresting details of the critical condition of that capital. 
When the repast wbji concluded tbe Princess rose, and, 
acoonipaiiicd by Lothair, re-entered the saloon, but Theo- 
id Colonna lingered behind, and finally seating 
lelves at the farthest end of the apartment in which 
had dined, became engaged in earnest conversation. 
Ton have seen a great deal since we &rst mot at Bel- 
Id the Princess to Lothair. 

IDS to me now,' said Lothair. ' that I knew as much 
•it life thon as I did of the stars above us, about whose 
purposes aTid fortunes 1 nsed to puzzle myself.' 

* And might have remained in that ignomnco. The great 
iority of men exist bnt do not live, like Italy in the hurt 
itury, Tbe power of the passiona, the foi-ce of tbe will, 



300 LOTH AIR. 



the creative energy of the imagination, these make life, aad 
reveal to ns a world of which the million are entinly 
ignorant Yon have heen fortunate in your youth to havD 
become acquainted with a great woman. It developes all t 
man's powers, and gives him a thousand talents.' 

' I often think,' said Lotliair, ' that I have neither powers 
nor talents, but am drilling without an orbit.' 

' Into infinite space,' said the Princess. ' Well, one might 
do worse than that. But it is not so. In the long run 
your nature will prevail, and you will fulfil your organic 
purpose ; but you will accomplish your ends with a com- 
pleteness which can only be secured by the culture and 
development you are now experiencing.' 

' And what is my nature ? ' said Lothair. ' I wish yon 
would tell me.' 

* Has not the divine Theodora told you ? ' 

' * She has told me many tilings, but not that.' 

* How then could I know,' said the Princess, * if she hw 
not discovered it ? ' 

' 'But perhaps she has discovered it,' said Lothair. 

' Oh ! then she would tell you,' said the Princess, ' for she 
I is the soul of truth.' 

I ' But she is also the soul of kindness, and she might wish 

I to spare my feelings.' 

I * Well, that is very modest, and I dare say not affected. 

j For there is no man, however gifted, even however con- 
I ccited, who has any real confidence in himself until he has 
I acted.' 
' ' Well, we shall soon act,' said Lothair, ' and then I 

suppose I shall know my nature.' 

'In time,' said the Princess, 'and \nth the continued 

inspiration of friendship.' 

* But you too are a great Mend of Theodora ? ' 

> ' Althoagh a woman. I see you are laughing at female 

I fiiendships, and, generally speaking, there is foundation 



i 



LOTHAIR. yai 

fiir tliB fr^eral eneer. I will own, for my part, 1 have 
every female neakness, and in excess. I am vain, I tun 
parioufi, I am jealous, imd I nm envious ; but I adore 
TLeoilara. I reconcUe my fueliiiga towarda her and my 
dii^position in this 'waj. It is not fi^endaiiip, it is worahip. 
And indeed there are moments when I sometimes think 
she 19 one of those beautiful divinities that we once wor- 
shipped in Ibis land, and who, when they listened to oqf 
ptayera, at least vouchsafed that our country shonJd not be 
the terrible wilderness that you crossed this day.' 

In the meantime Colonna, with folded anus and eyes 
fixed on the ground, waa listening to Theodora. 

' Thus you BCe," she continued, ' it comes to thin : Roma 
can only be freed by the Romans. He looks upon the 
secret societies of his own country as he does upoa universal 
safi'mge : a wild beast, and dangerous, but which may bo 
,atch(Kl tuid tajned and managed by the police. He listens, 
plays with them. He temporiRea. At the bottom 
}iia heart, his ItiiUnn blood daspisea the Gaols. It must 
something deeper and mora touching than thia. Rome 
muat appeal to him, and in the iiteSable name,' 

' It bas been uttered before,' Raid Colouoa, looking np at 

hia companion, ' and * And he hcsitak-d, 

'And in vain yon would say,' said Tlieodora. *Kot bo. 
There wiis a martyrdom, but the blood of Felice baptisoa 
thd new birth of Italian life. Bat I am not thinking of 
Ished. Had it not been for the double intrigues of 
Savoyards it need not then have been shed. We bear 
no ill will, at least not now, and we oan make 
oflVrs. Make them. The rcvolutiun iu Gaul is ever 
limicry of Italian thought and Ufe. Their great ofTair of 
laat century, which they have so marred and muddled, 
lid never have occurred had it not been fur Tuscan 
; 18+8 was the echo of our societies ; and the Seine 
never be diatnrbed if the Tiber flows nnrulSed. Let 



302 LOTH AIR. 



kiim oonaent to Romiui freedom^ and Madri Nitura wiD 
gnamntoe him against Latetian barricades.' 

* It is only the offer of Mary- Anne in another form,* said 
Colonna. 

* Guarantee the dynasty,' said Theodora. ' There is the 
point. He can trust ns. Emperors and kings break treaties 
without remorse, but he knows that what is registered by 
the most ancient power in the world is sacred.' 

' Can republicans guarantee dynasties ? ' said Colonna, 
shaking his head. 

'Why what is a dynasty, when we are dealing with 
eternal things ? The casualties of life compared with infi- 
nite space. Rome is eternal. Centuries of the most de- 
grading and foreign pricstcrafl, enervating rites brought 
in by Hcliogabalas and the Syrian emperors, have f&iled to 
destroy her. Dynasties ! Why, even in our dark servitude 
we have seen Merovingian and Carlovingian kings, and 
Capets and Valois and Bourbons and now Buonapartes. 
They have disappeared, and will disappear like Orgetorix 
and the dynasties of the time of Ca3sar. What we want is 
Rome free. Do not you see that everything has been pre- 
paring for that event ? This monstrous masquerade of 
United Italy, what is it but an initiatory ceremony to prove 
that Italy without Rome is a series of provinces ? Esta- 
blish the Roman republic, and the Roman race will, as 
before, conquer them in detail. And when the Italians 
are tlms really united, what wiD become of the Grauls? 
VVTiy, the first Buonaparte said that if Italy were really 
united the Gauls would have no chance. And he was a 
good judge of such things.* 

* What would you have me do then ? ' said Colonna. 

* See him, see him at once. Say everything that I have 
eaid, and say it better. His disposition is with us. Con- 
venience, all political propriety, counsel and would justify 
his abstinence. A return to Rome would seem weak, fit> 




LOTII.UR. 

I, capriciona, and would prove Uiat his previtnia rotire- 

mb w&s i]i-cori9idered and ill-inTorined. It woold disturb 
and alarm Earope. But yoo have, neverthetoea, to fight 
i^ust grent odds. It !a Madbb Natura against St, 
Petek'b. Never was the abomination of the world ao 
active as at prcaeut. It ia in the very throca of il« fell 
despair. To save itself, it would poison in the Knchoriat.' 

' And if I fiiil ? ' said Colonna. 

* Yaa will not fail. On the whole his interest Ilea on 



'The sacerdotal inflnenceB are very strong there. WTien 
e calcolntion of interest is fine, a word, a glance, sorae- 

righ, a tear, may have a fatal elTect.' 
' All depends upon him,' said Theodora. ' If he were to 
■appear irom the stage, iDterferoDce would be impossible.' 
' llul he is on the stage, and apparently will ronmin.' 
' A single life should not staud between Itomo and froo- 



' Wliat do yon mean ( 
ut that Romolo 
e his coautry.' 



Colonna should go to Paris and 



CHAPTER LVII. 

WflEN Captain Miinel and Iiis detachment returned to the 
camp, they foand iliat the foi'ce had been not inconaidorably 
iuL-r«a9od in tlieir absence, while the tidings of the disposi- 
tion of the Italian army, brought by the recruits and the 
deserters from tlio royal standard, cherished the hopes of 
the troops, and aiimuliitcd their desire for action. Theodora 
had bL'cu far more commnnicative during their journey 
back than in tlint of her departuro. She waa Icaa abaorbed, 
und had resumed llial serene yet ever sympathising ch». 
r.irt«r which was one of her charms. Without goin(f into 



304 LOTH AIR. 



detail, she mentioned more than once to Loihair kow re- 
lieyed she felt hj Colonna accepting the mission to I^iris. 
He was a person of so much inflaence, she said, and of such 
great judgment and resource. She angnred the moet aatia- 
factory results from hia presence on the main scene of 
action. 

Time passed rapidly at the camp. When a life of con- 
stant activitj is combined with routine, the hours flj. 
Neither letter nor telegram arrived from Colonna^ sod 
neither was expected ; and yet Theodora heard from him, 
and even &TO0xabiy. One day, as she was going the roonds 
with her hnsbsnd, a young soldier, a new recruit^ ap- 
proached her, and pressing to his lips a branch of the oiiTe 
tree, presented it to her. On another occasion when she 
n^tumod to her t^nt, she found a bunch of fruit frtun iht 
same trmx, thoiurh not quite ripe, which showed tha( the 
cause of peace bad x»ot only progressed but had almoss b»- 
fared. All thcf«e cnzLZHinications sustained her sac^^soe 
fiisposirinn, aiu: FlI' :if i^ippy confidence she laboured wzzk 
unoeBrtiiifr and in«T»nhir *a*rgT, so that when the Kockai- 
for 8ipn»l canir l^^r^ TiijAfc be prepared to obey h, ami 
nn»i<lly pnthor t4u *?u« truicwn of their glorious hc^wsL 

Whilo t^hf wn^ it 'hiA mood of miud a scout arriTed f^. 
Nen>]a, hrinL'^nt' "ww» that a brigade of the Frecdi 
lm<l nr>:5>Hr<=^}v<^"^***'^*^ ''^ Marseilles, and might be iinxr-x 
exp'^tHi rtt -f'w** Vocchia. The news was abso!u:eu Tbi 
Imltflii Oivn^* <* Xurseilles had telegraphed to his cr 
mei^t >«Mi ^•^'J^ *^^^ ^^^^ regiment was on board, i 
fKi' }nfn ^*^ *juLi»*i»cod. Copies of these telegrams 
,^.,^^^^^ :BtoiAuUy by a secret friend to the volunteers nt 

\^itKM L^i«kAiora heard this news she said nothfz^. nn;. 
I»^^^.,ujil^ she quitted the group round the Gecenl s&£ 
m/Mi^: t» ber own tent She told her attendaaa. -sat 
itiu d rtW^'^^^^ Ctt«tom-house officer at Xami. and a s« 




child oflbe mountains, that no one mnst approach ber, nut 
•>veii Colonel Campian, and tlie girl sate witliont the tent at 
its entrance, dressed iii her many-col oured garments, with 
fiery ejea and square whit« teeth, and her dark liair braided 
irith gold coins and covered with a long white kerchief of 
perfect cleanUuess ; and she haji a poniard at ber bide and 
a revolver in her hand, and she would liave used both wea- 
pons Boocor than that her miatress should be disobeyed. 
Alone in her t«nt, Theodora Toil npon her knoes, and 
lang np her hands to heaven and bowing hor bead to the 
e said ; ' O God ! whom I bave evor worshipped, 
d of jnstii.'e and of truth, receive the agony of my soul 1 
L And on the eartb she remained for hours in diispair. 
L If ight came and it brought no boIuco, and the day re. 
rned, but to her it brongbt no light. Tbeodoi-a wua no 
r seen. The soul of the ciuDp seemed extinct. Tlie 
iieai of majesty that ennobled aU ; the winning amile that 
warded the rifleman at Lis practice and the sapper at his 
toil ; the inciting word that reanimated the recniil and re- 
called to tbe veteran the glones of Sicilian struggles : all 
vanished, all seemed spiritlesa and dull, and tbe armonrcr 
ikod hia forge as if bs were the heartless hireling of a 

■■In this state of moral discomStore there was one person 
did not lose his head, and this was tbe General, Calm, 
Mt«d, and critical, be surveyed tbe situation and indi- 
l the possible contingencies. ' Onr beat, if not OOP 
only, chance,' he said to Colonel Campian, ' is tlu's ; that 
the Italian army now gathered in force npon the frontier 
should mnrcL to Rome and aiTive there before the Fronoh. 
intover then happens, we shall at least got rid of the 
nt imposture, but in all probability tbe French and 
B will fight, In tljat case I shall join tbe Savoyai-ds, 
i in the coni^ision we may do some business j'et.' 
' This embarkation,' suid the Colonel, ' explains tho gn- 



y^i LOTH AIR. 



thering of the Italians on the frontier. They most b&ve 
foreseen this event at Florenoe. They never can submit to 
another French occupation. It would upset their throne. 
The question is, who will be at Borne first.* 

* Just so,* said the General ; ' and as it is an affair upon 
which all depends, and is entirely beyond my control, I 
think I shall now take a nap.* So saying he turned into 
his tent, and, in five minutes, this brave and exact man, bat 
in whom the muscular development fiur exceeded the ner- 
vous, was slumbering without a dream. 

Civita Vecchia was so near at hand, and the scouts of the 
General were so numerous and able, that he soon learnt 
the French had not yet arrived, and another day elapsed 
and stOl no news of the French. But, on the afternoon 
of the following day, the startling bat authentic informa- 
tion arrived, that, after the French army having embarked 
and remained two days in port, the original orders had 
been countermanded, and the troops had absolutely dis- 
embarked. 

There ¥ras a cheer in the camp when the news was 
known, and Theodora started from her desolation, surprised 
that there could be in such a scene a sound of triumph. 
Then there was another cheer, and though she did not 
move, but remained listening and leaning on her arm, the 
light returned to her eves. The cheer was repeated, and 
there were steps about her tent. She caught the voice of 
Lothair speaking to her attendant, and adjuring her to tell 
her mistress immediately that there was good news, and 
that the French troops had disembarked. Then she heard 
her husband calling Theodora. 

The camp became a scene of excitement and festivity 
which, in general, only sacceeds some signal triumph. 
The troops lived always in the air, except in the hours of 
night, when the atmosphere of the mountains in the late 
Lutunm is dangerous^ At prosent they formed groups and 



forties is the Tieinitj of the tenia ; tLere was their gay 
ciiDt«eii and there their bumoniiis kitcbeo. The i 
the Gulf with Uis rich Venetian banter and the Sicilian 
iv-ith hia ficaramoauh tricks got on very well with the 
g«title &jid polished Tuscan, and coold amuite withont 
cQending the high Roman soul ; bnt tboro wore eome qnipB 
tnd crunks and Bometimea some antics which wore not 
alnaya relished by the Bimpler men from the ifllands, 
Bind the o&ended eye of r Corstcan sometimes seemed to 
threaten ' vendetta.' 

About anneot. Colonel Canipian led forth Tlioodora. 
6he wua in female attii-o, and her long hair restrained 
only by a fillet reached nearly to the ground. Her Olym- 
piui brow seemed distended ; a photipboric light ghttered 
In her Hellenic eyes; a deep piuk spot bnmt upon each of 
thoM cheeks usually so irtimaculatcly fair. 

The Oeneml and the chief officers gathered round her 
with tbeir congrntalationB, but she would visit all the 
quarters. She spoke to the men in all the dialects of 
tlwt land of many langu^:c8. The men of the Gulf, in 
gciier»l of gigantic stature, dropped their merry Venetian 
stories and fell down on their knees and kiuacd the hem of 
her garment; the Scaramouch forgot his tricks, and wept 
BA he wonld to the Madonna; Tuscany and Rome made 
■peecbos worthy of the Amo and the Fomm ; and the 
CoTsic&na and the islanders unsheathed thuir poniards and 
biKodisfacd them iu the air, which is their mude of de- 
BOtiug ftSbctionate devotion. As the night advanced, the 
crescent moon glittering above the Apennine, Theodora 
ftttendod by the whole staff, having visited all the troops, 
stopped at the chief fire of the camp, and in a voice which 
might have maddened nations sang the byitin of Romau 
liberty, the whole army ranged in ranks along the vsJiey 
n the Holcmn and triiunphout chorus. 



L^oininj 



ic5i LOTH AIR. 



j CHAPTER LVm. 

This eyaltation of feeling in the camp did not evaporate. 

I All felt that thej were on the eve of some great event, and 

I that the hour was at hand. And it was in this state of 

enthusiasm, that oooriers arrived with the intelligence that 

Garibaldi had escaped from Caprera, that he had reached 

Merola in safety, and was in command of the assembled 

I forces ; and that the General was, without loss of time, to 

! strike his camp, join the main body at a given place, and 

then march to Rome. 

The breaking-up of the camp was as the breaking-np of 
a long frost and the first scent of spring. There was a 
brightness in every man*s face and a gay elasticitj in all 
their movements. But when the order of the day informed 
them that they must prepare for instant combat, and that 
in eight and forty hours they would probably be in face of 
the enemy, the hearts of the young recruits fluttered with 
strange excitement, and the veterans nodded to each other 
with grim delight. 

It was nearly midnight when the troops quitted the 

I valley through a defile in an opposite direction to the pass 

by which they had entered it. It was a bright night. 

Colonel Campian had the command of the division in 

advance, which was five hundred strong. After the defile, 

the country though hilly was comparatively open« and here 

I the advanced guard was to halt until the artillery and 

! cavalry had cfiectcd the passage, and this was the most 

! laborious and difficult portion of the march; but all was 

well considered, and all went right. The artillery and 

r>avalry by sunrise had joined the advanced guard who 

I were bivouacking in the rocky plain, and about noon the 



LOTH AIR. 



309 



1 colamns of tho infantty begari to deploy from tbo 
heigbts, and in & short time the whole force was in the 
Soon after tliia Boino of the Bkirmiahcra who had 
I Bent forward rotamed, and reported the enemy in 
e and in a strong position, commanding the intendeil 
B of the invading force. On this the General resolved 
) halt for a few hours, and rest and refresh tho troops, 
md to rcoommeuce their march after snnset, so that, vrith- 
nit effort, they might be in the presence of the enemy by 

Lodi^ had heen separated from Theodora during tliia 

■ to Iiim novel and exeiting acone. She had accompanied 

her husband, bat when the whole foreo advanced in battle 

array, the General bad desired that she should accompany 

. tiie Btaff. They advanced through the night, and by dawn 

Ltliey were fairly in the open country. In the diatanca, and 

1 the middle of the rough and undulating plain, was a 

ind hill with an ancient city, for it was a bishop's see, 

milt aU about and over it. It would have looked like a 

Lutio beehive, bad it rot been for a long convent on the 

mit, flanked by aome stone pines, as we aee in the pio- 

<s of Caspar and Clande. 

Between this city and the invading force, though not 

B & direct line, was posted the enemy in a etrong position; 

llleir right wing protected by one of the monnds common 

i the plain, and their left baclccd by an olive wood of 

msidernble extent, and wliicU grow on the last rooky 

p of the mountaina. They wore therefore, aa regards 

tlie plain, on commanding ground. Tho strength of the 

) forces was not nnoqual, and tho Papal troops were 

t to be despised, consisting among others of a detech- 

it of the legion of Antibes and tho Zouaves. Tliey had 

■, wliich was well posted. 

The General scrveyed the scene, for wliich he was not 

mpreparod. Disposing hia troops in positions iu which 



indred 



they were as much protected aa possible from the e 
fire, he opened apon them a fierce and contiuDoaa c 
ade, while he ordered Colonel Campian Kiid eiglit hi 
men to fall hack among the hills, and full owing a c 
path, whicdi had been revealed by a shepherd, gain tiie 
spur of the mountains and attack the enemy in their rear 
through the olive wood. It waa caleolated that this move- 
ment, if successfol, would require about three hours, and 
the General for that period of the time had to occnpy cha 
enemy and hia own troops with what were in reality fciiit 
Sitae ka. 

When the caloulated time had elapsed, the General he- 
came anxions, and his glttss wofl never from his eye. He 
was postud on a convenient ridge, and the wind, wbich 
was liigh this day from the sea, freqaently cleared the Geld 
from the Tolumea of smoke ; so hia opportunities of obaer. 
vation were good. But the three hoara passed, and there 
was no sign of the approach of Campian, and be ordered 
Sarano wilJi his division to advance towards the mound 
and occupy the attention of the right wing of the enemy ; 
bnt very shortly after Lothair had carried this order, and 
fonr hours having elapsed, the General observed some con- 
fusion in the left wing of the enemy, and instantly connU'r- 
manding the order, commanded a general attack in line. 
The troops charged with eiithuBiasm, hut they were en- 
countered with a reaolation as determined. At first they 
carried the mound, broke the enemy's centre, and were 
Diixed np with their great guns; but the enemy fiercely 
rallied, and the invaders were repulsed. The Papal troops 
retained tiieir position, and their opponents were in disorder 
on the plain and a little dismayed. It waa at this moment 
that Tliuodora rushed for>vard, and waving a sword in one 
hand, and in the other the standard of the Repnblio, ex- 
olaime<l, ' Brothers, to Rome ! ' 

This sight iullamcd their faltering hearta. which alter all J 



LOTHAIR. 311 

r confoauded than diam&ycd. Tbey formed &na 
md her, and charged with renewed energy at the 
J momeot thut Campian had hroaght the force of his 
pTisioD OD the enemy's rear. A panio came ovor the Papal 
na donblj assailei!, and their ront was complete. 
^ey retreated in the utmost disorder to Vilerbo, which 
they ftlmndoned that eight and hurried to Rome. 

At the lost moment, when the victory was no longer 
donbtfiil, and all were in full retreat or in full pursuit, 
a Zonave, in wantonness firing his weapon before ho threw 
it Bway, sent a random ehot which etmck Theodora, and 
she fell. Lothair, who had never led her during the battle, 
WM at her aide in a moment, and a soldier, who had also 
marked the fatal shot ; and, strange to say, so hot and 
keen was the pursuit, that though a momout before they 
seemed to be in the very thick of the strife, they almost 
instantaneously found themselves nione, or rather with no 
companions than the wounded near thonu She looked at 
Lothair, but at firet could not speak. Slie seemed stunned, 
bot soon murmured, ' Go, go ; you are wanted.' 

At this moment the General rode np with some of his 
staff. His conntenanoe was elate and his eye sparkled with 
fire. But catching the figure of Lothair kneeling oa the 
Geld, he reined in his charger and said, ' What ia this P ' 
Then looking more closely, he instantly dismounted, and 
mnttoring to himself, ' This mai-a the victory,' be was &t 
Theodora's side, 

A slight emile came over her when she recogtiised tho 
Ooneral, and she faintly pressed his hand, and then said 
again, ' Go, go ; yon are all wanted.' 

'None of os are wanted. The doy is won; we must 
itaik of you.' 

' la it won ? ' she munnnred. 

* Complete.' 

' I dieoonfariL' 



312 LOTH AIR, 



*Who talks of death?' said the OeneraL *ThiB is a 
wound, but I have had some worse. What we mast ihink 
of now are remedies. I passed an ambulance this momeni 
Ban for it,' he said to his aide-de-camp. *We must 
staunch the wound at once ; but it is only a mile to the 
dtj, and then we shall find everything, for we were ez- 
pected. I will ride on, and there shall be proper attend- 
ance ready before you arrive. You will conduct our friend 
to the city,' he said to Lothair, * and be of good courage, as 
I am.' 



CHAPTER LDL 



The troops were rushing through the gates of the city 
«irhen the General rode up. There was a struggling and 
stifling crowd ; cheers and shrieks. It was that moment 
of wild fruition, when the master is neither recognised nor 
obeyed. It is not easy to take a bone out of a dog's 
mouth ; nevertheless the presence of the Greneral in time 
prevailed, something like order was established, and before 
the ambulance could arrive, a guard had been appointed to 
receive it, and the ascent to the monastery, where a quarter 
was prepared, kept clear. 

During the progress to the city Theodora never spoke^ 
but she seemed stunned rather than suffering ; and once, 
when Lothair, who was walking by her side, caught her 
glance with his sorrowful and anxious face, she put forth 
her hand and pressed his. 

The ascent to the convent was easy, and the advantages 
of air and comparative tranquillity, which the place offered, 
counterbalanced the risk of postponing, for a very brief 
space, the examination of the wound. 

They laid her on their arrival on a large bed, without 
poles or canopy, in a loflv white- washed room of consider. 



LOTH AIR. 



3IJ 



Me dimensiciTLii, clean and airy, with high open windoivs. 
There wna no famitnre in the room except a chair, a table, 
and a crucifix. Lothair took her in hia arma and laid her 
I on the bed ; and the coromon soldier nho bod hitherto 
uc.<d)^te(] him, a giant in etfttare with a benrd a foot long, 
Mood by the bedside crying like a chiliL The chief Borgeon 
alinoBt at the Biime moment arrived with an ^do-de'Canip 
of the General, nn<l her faithful female attendant, and in a 
few miiint«B her huaband, himself wounded and covered 
with dnst. 

The anrpoon at once requested that all tilioald withdraw 
exrapt her devot«d mpiid, and they waited his report with- 
oat, in that deep sad silence which will not despair, and 
yet darea not hope. 

When the wound bad been exanuncd and probed and 

Kised, Theodora in a faint voice said, ' Is it desperate ? " 
Not desperate,' said the anrgeon, ' but fieriona. All 
Dcds opon your perfect tranquillity, of mind as well as 

• Well I am here and cannot move ; and as for my mind, 
I an not only eerene but happy.' 

'Then we ahall get through this," said the surgeon en- 
eouimgingly. 

'I do not hko yon to stay with mo,' said Theodora. 

I^Tberc are other snffcrors besides myself.' 

t ' My onlers are not t-o quit yon,' said the sui^on, ' but 

f groat nae within these walls. I shall return 

D the restorative has hod its eSect. But remember, if 

% bo wanted, I am always here.' 

, Soon ftfter tliis Theodora fell info n gpntio sinmbcr. and 

ter two hours woke refreshed. The countenance of tha 

Bnrgoon when he again vtsiled her was less troubled ; it wbe 

The day was now beginning to decline ; notwithstanding 
a of tnmult and violence near at bond, ail wae 



^Wbe scenes 



3X4 LOTH AIR. 



hero silent ; and the breeze, which had been strong doring 
the whole day, but which blew from the sea^ and was toj 
soil, played gratefully upon the pale coontenanoe of the 
snfierer. Suddenly she said, ' What is that ? ' 

And they answered and said, * We heard nothing.' 

* I hear the sound of great guns,' said Theodora. 

And they listened, and in a moment both the surgeon 
and the maid heard the sound of distant ordnance. 

' The Liberator is at hand,' said the maid. 

' I dare say,* said the surgeon. 

*No;' said Theodora looking distressed. 'The sounds 
do not come from his direction. Gt> and see, Dolores ; ask 
and tell me what are these sounds.' 

The surgeon was sitting by her side, and occasionany 
touching her pulse, or wiping the slight foam from her 
brow, when Dolores returned and said, * Lady, the sounds 
are the great guns of Civita Vecchia.* 

A deadly change came over the countenance of Theodora, 
and the surgeon looked alarmed. He would have given 
her some restorative, but she refused it. * No, kind friend,' 
she said ; ' it is finished. I have just received a wound 
more fiEital than the shot in the field this morning. The 
French are at Rome. Tell me, kind friend, how long do 
you think I may live ? * 

The surgeon felt her pulse ; his look was gloomy. * In 
such a case as your« ' he said, * the patient is the best 
judge.' 

' I understand,' she said. ' Send then at once for my 
husband.' 

He was at hand, for his wound had been dressed in the 
convent, and he came to Theodora with his arm in a sling, 
bat with the attempt of a cheerful visage. 

In the meantime, Lothair, after having heard the first, 
and by no means hopeless, bulletin of the surgeon, had 
been obUged to leave the convent to look after his men, 



Hud having Been them in qaartors and moAe his report to 
the General, he obtained permiasion to return to the coo- 
vent and ascertain the condition of Theodora, Arrived 
slumber, and 
ray of hope 



with that sickening 
ind j'et uncertain 



there, he heard that she had had t 

that her Iinaband was now with her 

lighted up the darkness of hia sonl. 

and down the refectory of the conveni 

restlessiiesa which attends impending t 

Borrow, when Colonel Campian entered the apartment a 

beckoned to h'lTn ,, 

There was an expression in liia face which appalled 
Lothftir, and be waa about to enquire after Theodora, when 
his t«ngne cleaved to the roof of hia month and he conid 
not speak. Thts Colonel shook his head, and said in a 
low, hollow voice, ' Sbo wiahea to ace yon, and aloi's 

Theodora was sitting in the bed propped up bj cuahions 

when I*othair entered, and a.B her wound was internal, 

there nas no evidence of her sufierin^a. The distrossfol 

expression of her face when sbo heaid the ^eat gnus ot 

Cirita Vecciiia had paased away. It was serious, hut it 

^bss serene. She bade her maid leave the chamber, and 

^■■n she said to Lothair, ' It la the last time I shall speak 

^Bt yon, and I wish tJiat we shonld he alone. There is 

eomething moch on my mind at this moment, and yoa can 



rolipt 



I it.' 



' Adored being,' murmured Lothair with streaming eyes, 
'there ia no wish of years that I will not fulSl.' 

' 1 know yoor life, for jou have told it mo, and yon are 
trae. I know your nature; it is gentle and brave, but 
perhaps too sneceptible. I wished it to bo susceptible only 
of the great and good. Mark me : I have a vague but 
strong conviction that tboro will be another, and a more 
■ftti, attempt to gain you lo the Church of Itomo. If 
tf ever hcon to yoa, as yua have sometimca said, a« 



3i6 LOTHAIR. 



object of kind thonghts, if not a fortunate, at least a &iftk. 
fulf friend ; promise me now, at this hour of trial, with il 
the solemnity that becomes the moment, that jon win hbvw 
enter that commnnion.' 

Lothair would have spoken, bnt his voice was choked, 
and he conld only press her hand and bow his head. 

* Bat promise me,' said Theodora. 
' I promise,' said Lothair. 

* And now,' she said, ' embrace me, for I wish that jo^ 
spirit should bo upon me as mine departs.' 



CHAPTER LX. 



It was a Novcmbor day in Rome, and the sky was u 
gloomy as the heaven of London. The wind moaned 
through the silent streets, deserted except by soldiers. 
The shops were shut, not a civilian or a priest could be 
seen. The Corso was occupied by the Swiss Guard and 
Zouaves, with artillery ready to sweep it at a moment*i 
notice. Six of the city gates were shut and barricaded 
with barrels full of earth. Troops and artillery were also 
posted in several of the principal piazzas, and on some 
commanding heights, and St. Peter's itself was garrisoned. 
And yet these were the arrangements rather of panic this 
precaution. The utmost dismay pervaded the conncil- 
chaniber of the Vatican. Since the news had arrived of 
the disembarkation of the French troops at Marseilles, lU 
hope of interference had expired. It was clear that Bc^ 
wick had been ultimately foiled, and his daring spirit and 
teeming device were the last hope, as they were the ablest 
representation, of Romau audacity and stratagem. The 
Revolutionary Committee, whose abiding-place or agents 
never could bo traced or discovered, had posted every 




LOTH AIR. 



3'7 



' tlie city daring the nlgbt with Uicir manifeBto, 

moanciug that tba hoar h&A arrived ; an attempt^ pnr- 
y snccessfiil, had been made to blow up the bturacks ol 

ft Zonarea ; ajid tbe Cardinal Secretary naa in possession 
^information thiit an inBurrection was immediate, and 
k the city wonld bo Bred in four different qnartera. 

The Pop© had escaped from the Vatican to the Castle of 
^t. Angelo, where he was secure, and where his conrage 
' < >ald be snstoincd by the presence of the Noble Gaard with 
iiieir swords always drawn. The six score of Mousignori, 
who in their different offices form, what ia styled, tbo Court 
of Rome, had either accompanied his Holiuosa, or pnu 
ilently secreted tiicmaelves in the etrongest palaces and 
couvents at their command. Lalur in the day, news airived 
<ii the eticape of Garibaldi from Caprera ; he waa said to bo 
marching on the city, and only five and twenty milea dis- 
lant. There appeared another proclamation from the 
Iterolntioaary Committee, mysterionsly poflted under the 
very Dosea of the guards and police, postponing the insur- 
rtx.-tion till the arrival of the Liberator. 

The Papal cause eecmed bopeloss, There wna a general 
feeling thronghoQt the city and all classes, that this time it 
was to be an aQ'air of Alario or Genaeric, or the Constahle 
of Bourbon ; no negotiations, no compromises, no conven- 
tions, bat slanghter, havoc, a great judicial devastation, that 
wan to extirpate all signs and memories of Mediicval and 
Semitic Rome, and restore and renovate tlie iul^eritance of 
the true offspring of the she-wolf. The very aapeot of tba 
phioe itself was sinister. Whether it were the dulnesa of 
the d«rk sicy, or tbe frown of Madrb Natura heraelti bat 
the old Seven Hills seemed to look askance. The haughty 
Capitol, impatient of its chape's, sighed once more for 
d the proad Palatine, remembering the Ctesara, 
imperial contempt on the palaces of the Pft- 
s that, in the cuunse ni ignominiuus ages, had 




boen constructed out of the extianstless womb of its EtiQ 
Borercigii ruin. The Jews in tiieir qnarl«r spoke nottung, 
bttt exchniig^ u cuHods glance, as if to eaj, ' Has it come 
at Inst F And nil] they indeed serve her aa she served 
Sion t ' 

This dreadful day at last paasod, followed by as dreadfal 
a tiiglit, and tlien another day equally gloomy, eqnally 
silent, equally panicstricken. Even insurrection wuulJ 
have boon a relief amid the horrible and venriag snapuusd. 
On tbo third day the Qovemment made some wild arreeU 
□r the wron^ persons, and then came out a iresli proclama- 
tion from the Bovolutiuuary Committee, directing tlio 
Bomana to make no move until the advsjiccd guard of 
Garibaldi had appeared npon Monte Mario, About lliis 
time the routed troops of the Pope arrived in confusion 
from Viterbo, and of course extenuated their discornGture 
by eiBggorating the strength of their opponenta. Ac- 
cording to them they had encountered not less than ten 
tlionsand men, who now baring joined the iitiU greater 
force of Garibaldi, were in full march on the city. 

The members of the Papal party who showed the greatest 
Bpiiit and the highest conrago at tl)is trying conjuncture, 
were the Roman ladies aud their foreign &iends. They 
aomped lint for the troops as incessantly as they oBered 
prayers to the Vii'gin. Some of them were trained nurses, 
and they were training others to tend tlie sick and wounded. 
They organised a hospital service, and when the wounded 
arrived from Viterbo, notwithstanding the rumours of incen- 
diarism and massacre, they cante forth from their homes, and 
proceeded in companies, with no male attendants but armed 
men, to the discharge of their self-appointed poblic duties. 
There wore many foreigners So the Papal ranks, and the 
sympathies and services of the female visitors to Bomo ware 
engaged foi their conntrymen. Frincenscs of France and 
FkudgrsnuAht bescen by the trcssc!bod/iof many asuSc 



1 




Ecldiorof DanphinL- and Brabant; bnt there were d 
Gobjects of Qneeo Vicboria in the Papal ranka : soms 
Englielunen, several Scotclimou, mauy Irish. For them 
theEnglisli ladies had organiHcd a special service. Lady 
St. Jerome, with atiQaggiiig zeal, presided over this depart' 
nent ; and the snperior of the Bistorhood of mercy, tliat 
shrank from tiu toil, and fenrod no danger in (he fulfilment 
of those sacred duties of pioua patriots, ivas Miss AniudBl, 

She was leaning over the bed of one who had been out 
down in the olive wood by a sabre of Cainpian's force, 
v.'heo a peal of artillery was heard. She thonght tliat liur 
hour had arrived, and the assault had commenced. 

' Most holy Mary I ' she exclaimed, ' snstain me.' 

There was another peal, atid it was repeated, and again 
■nd again at regular intervals. 

' Tbat is not a battle, it is a solute,' mnrmnred the 
wounded soldier. 

And he was right ; it was the voice of the great guns tel- 
ling that the French had arrived. 

The consternation of the Revolutionary Committee, no 
longer finstained by Colonna, absent in France, was complete. 
Had the advanced gnard of Garibaldi been in sight, it 
might still have been the wisest course to rise ; but Monte 
Mario was not yet peopled by them, and an insurrection 
against the Papal troops, reanimated by the reported arrival 
of the French, and increased in numbers by the fugitives 
from Viterbo, would have been certainly a rash and pro- 
bably a. hopoIcBs effort. And so, in the midst of confused 
and hesitating coancils, the first division of the French forcB 
arnved at the gates of Rome, and marched into the gloomy 

silent city. 

m Since the interference of St. Pctj^r and St. Paul against 
C, Uie Papacy had never eipenoneod a more miraco- 
interposition in ita favour. Shortly after thisthewind 

uiged, and the sky become serene ; a sunbeam played on 



320 LOTH AIR. 




the flashing oross of St Peter's ; the Pope left the Castlb 
Angelo, and returned to the Qoirinal; the Noble 
sheathed their puissant blades ; the six score of Monsigpioi 
reappeared in all their busy haunts and stately offices ; 
the Court of Rome, no longer despairing of the Bepublii 
and with a spirit worthy of the Senate afler Gann», ordered 
the whole of its forces into the field to combat its invaders, 
with the prudent addition, in order to ensure a triumph, of 
a brigade of French infantry armed with chassepots. 

Garibaldi, who was really at hand, hearing of these events, 
fell back on Monte Rotondo, about fifteen miles from the 
city, and took up a strong position. He was soon attacked 
by his opponents, and defeated with considerable slaughter, 
and forced to fly. The Papal troops returned to Rome in 
triumph, but with many wounded. The Roman ladies and 
their friends resumed their noble duties with enthusiasm. 
The ambulances were apportioned to the difierent hospitals, 
and the services of all were required. Our own country- 
men had suffered severely, but the skill and energy and 
gentle care of Clare Arundel and her companions only in- 
creased with the greater calls upon their beautiful and 
sublime virtues. 

I A woman came to Miss Arundel and told her that in 

' one of the ambulances was a young man whom they could 
I not make out. He was severely wounded, and had now 
I swooned ; but they had reason to believe he was an En- 
I glishman. Would she see him and speak to him ? And she 
1 went. 

' The person who had summoned her was a woman of 

much beauty, not an unconmion quality in Rome, and of 
' some majesty of mien, as little rare in that city. She was 
said, at the time when some enquiry was made, to be Maria 
Serafina de Angelis, the wife of a tailor in the Ripetta. 
I The ambulance was in the courtyard of the hospital of 

the Santissima Trinita di Pellegrini The woman pointed 




LOTH AIR. yii 

b it, and then went away. There was only one perRoa in 
-the ambnlance ; the rest had been taken into the hoapilal, bnt 
lie had been left because lie was in a swoon, and tlioy were 
tiyiivg to restore hba. Those aronnd the ambulance made 
room for Miss Arundel as she approached, and she beheld a 
young man, covered with the stains of battle, and severely 
wounded ; but his countenance wasuniDJnred though insen- 
sible. His eyes were closed, and his auburn hair fell in 
clusters on Lis white forehead. The sister of mercy touched 
Uie pnlse t-o ascertain whether there yet was life, hnt, in tha 
J act, her own frame became agitated, and the coloor 
t her cheek, as she reoogniBed^LoTaAiB. 



CHAPTER LXI. 

Whkh Lotbwr in some degree regained consciousness, he 
fbund himself in bed. Tho chamber was lofty and dim, 
and had once been splendid. Tboughtf illness had invested 
it with an air of comfort rare under Italian roofs. The 
fagots sparkled on the hearth, the light from the windows 
was veiled with hangings, and tho draughts from the tall 
doors guarded against by screens. And by his bedside 
there were beaatifnl fiowers, and a cmcifix, and a silver 
bell. 

Where was he ? He looked up at the velvet canopy 
above, and then at ttic pictures that covered tho walla, but 
Uiere was no familiar aspect. He romemhercd nothing 
■incc he was shot down in the field of Mentana, and even 
that imperfectly. 

And there liad been another battle before that, followed 
by a catastrophe srill more dreadful. When had all this 
happened, and where P He tried to movo his bandaged 
rorm, but he bad no strength, and bis mind seemed weaker 



r 



322 LOTKAIR. 



than his frame. Bat he was soon sensible that he "was no^ 
alone. A veiled fignre gently lifted him, and another one 
refreshed his pillows. He spoke, or tried to speak, bat ono 
of them pressed her finger to her shronded lips, and he 
willingly relapsed into the silence which he had hardly 
fitrength enough to break. 

And sometimes these veiled and gliding ministers bronght 
him sustenance and sometimes remedies, and he oomplied 
with all their suggestions, but with absolute listlesaness ; 
and sometimes a coarser hand interposed, and sometimes he 
caught a countenance that was not concealed, bnt was ever 
strange. He had a vague impression that they examined 
dmd dressed his wounds, and arranged his bandages ; bat 
whether he really had wounds, and whether he were or 
were not bandaged, he hardly knew, and did not oare to 
know. He was not capable of thought, and memory was 
an effort under which he always broke down. Day after 
day he remained silent and almost motionless alike in mind 
and body. He had a vague feeling that, after some great 
sorrows, and some great trials, he was in stfllness and in 
safety; and he had an indefinite mysterious sentiment of 
gratitude to some unknown power, that had cherished him 
in his dark calamities, and poured balm and oil into his 
wounds. 

It was in this mood of apathy that, one evening, there 
broke upon his ear low but beautiful voices performing the 
evening service of the Church. His eye glistened, his 
heart was touched by the vesper speU. He listened with 
rapt attention to the sweet and sacred strains, and when 
they died away he felt depressed. Would they ever sound 
agaiaP 

Sooner than he could have hoped, for, when he woke in 
the morning from his slumbers, which, strange to say, were 
always disturbed, for the mind and the memory seemed to 
work at night though in fearful and exhausting chaoSy the 



LOTRAIR. 323 

Bame divine molodicB that had Boollied him in the eve, 
now sounded in the glad and gTa.t«^ worehip of matin 

' I have heard tho voico of ajagck," be jnDiToiircd to liis 
veiled dttendant. 

The vesper mid the matiu bours bcctime at onoe the 
ejiocha of his day. Ho was ever thinking of them, and 
wxin was thintbg of the feelinga ^vhich their beantifiil 
■^rvicea celebrate and express. Hia mind seemed no 
hjnj^r altogether a blank, and the rclignoua sentiment was 
tho first that returned to his exhausted heart. 

'There will he a requiem to-day,' whispered one of his 
veiled attendants. 

A requiem ! a service for the dead; a prayer for their 
peace and rest ! And who waH dead ? The bright, the 
matchless one, the spell and fa-scination of his hfe ! Was it 
poRsihleP Conid she be dead, who Eeemed vitality in ilf 
oonsammate form ? Was there ever snch a being a^ Theo- 
dora ? And if there were no Theodora on earth, why should 
one think of anything but heaven ? 

The Bonuda camo floating down the chamber till they 
Gccracd to cluster round his brain ; eometimea soloiiin, 
Bometimea thrilling, sometimes the divine pathoa melting 
the haman litart with celestial sympathy and heavenly 
wdnce. The tears fell fast fi-om his agitated vision, and 
he fianlc back exhanst«d, almost insensible, on hia pillow. 

■ The Church baa a heart for all our joys and all onr 
Siirrows, aud for all our hopes, and all our fears,' whispered 
a veiled attendant, as she bathed his temples with fVugrant 

Though the condition of Lothair had at firat seemed dea. 
ponte, his yonthfiil and vigoroua frame had enabled him 
to rally, and with time and the infinite sohcitudu which he 
received, his case was rot without hope. But though his 
physical cure was aomenhat advanced, tho prostration of 



324 LOTH AIR. 



bit mrad seemed Rusccptible of no relief. ' The scrriceB of 
the Church accorded with his depressed condition ; ikey 
were the only events of his life, and he cherished them. 
His attendants now permitted and even encouraged him to 
speak, but he seemed entirely incurious and indifierent 
Sometimes they read to him, and he listened, but he never 
made remarks. The works which they selected had a re- 
ligious or ecclesiastical bias, even while they were ima> 
ginative; and it seemed difficult not to be interested 
by the ingenious fancy by which it was worked out, that 
everything that was true and sacred in heaven had its 
symbol and significance in the qualities and accidents of 
earth. 

After a month passed in this manner, the surgeons having 
announced that Lothair might now prepare to rise from 
his bed, a veiled attendant said to him one day, ' There is a 
gentleman here who is a friend of yours, and who would 
like to see you. And perhaps you would like to see him 
also for other reasons, for you must have much to say to 
God after all that you have suffered. And he is a most 
holy man.' 

* I have no wish to see anyone. Are you sure he is not 
a stranger ? ' asked Lothair. 

^ He is in the next room,' said the attendant. ^ He has 
been here throughout your illness, conducting our services; 
oflen by your bedside when you were asleep, and always 
praying for you.' 

The veiled attendant drew back and waved her hand, 
and some one glided forward and said in a low, soft voice, 
* You have not forgotten me ? * 

And Lothair beheld Monsignore Catcsby. 

^ It is a long time since we met,' said Lothair, looking at 
him with some scrutiny, and then all interest died away, 
and he turned away his vague and wandering eyee. 

* But you know mo ? ' 




3^- S 

I kuuvr iiot wLere I am, and I but tkintly oomprehend 
t has happened,' murmured Lothair, 
I *Yon are (unong friends,' said tlie Uonsignore, in tones 
W sympathy. 

* WLal 1ms bappenod,' he added, with an air of mystory, 
oot amaiicd with a certain expression of ecstasy in hia 
glance, ' must be reserved for other times, when you are 
atrongfer, and can grapple with such high themes.' 

' Bow long have I been here? ' enquired Lotboir, dream* 
ingly. 

' It is a month since the Annunciation.* 

' What Annunciation ? ' 

' Hash !' said the Monsignore, and he raised bis finger 
to his lip. ' We must not talk of these things, at least at 
present. No donht the same blessed person that saved yon 
from the jawa of death is at this moment guarding over 
your recovery and guiding it ; but we do not deserve, nor 
doea the Churob expect, perpetnal miracloB. We must 
avail ourselves, under Divine sanction, of the beneficent 
tendencies of nature ; and in your caso her operations must 
not be disturbed at this moment by any excitement, except, 
indeed, the glow of gratitude for celestial aid, and the 
inward joy which must pci'meate the being of anyone who 
fwls that he is among the moet fitvoured of men.' 

From this time M on s ignore Catcsby scarcely ever 
quitted Lothair. He hailed Lotboir in the more, and 
parted from bim at night with a blessing ; and in the 
interval Cateaby devoted his whole Ufe, and the ineit- 
hanstible resources of his line and skilled intelligence to 
alleviate or amuse the existence of bia companion. Some- 
times he conversed with Ijothair, adroitly taking the chief 
borthen of the talk ; and yet, whether it were bright nar- 
ntive or lively dissertation, never seeming to lecture or 
hold forth, but relieving the monologue when expedient by 
Han Interesting enquiry, which he was always ready in due 



326 LOTH AIR. 



time to answer himself^ or softening the instmction by tlie 
playfnlness of his mind and manner. Sometimes he read 
to Lothair, and attuned the mind of his charge to the true 
spiritoal note by melting passages from A. Kempis or 
GhrjBostom. Then he -would bring a portfolio of wondrous 
drawings by the medieval masters, of saints and seraph^ 
and accustom the eye and thought of Lothair to the formi 
and fancies of the Court of Heaven. 

One day Lothair, having risen from his bed for the first 
time, and lying on a soEel in an adjoining chamber to that 
in which he had been so long confined, the Monsignore 
seated himself by the side of Lothair, and, opening a port- 
folio, took out a drawing and held it before Lothair, observ- 
ing his countenance with a glance of peculiar scrutiny. 

* Well ! ' said Gatesby after some little pause, as if await- 
ing a remark from his companion. 

* 'Tis beautiful ! ' said Lothair. * Is it by Raffaelle ? ' 

* No ; by Fra Bartolomeo. But the countenance, do you 
remember ever having met such an one P ' 

Lothair shook his head. Gatesby took out another 
drawing, the same subject, the Blessed Virgin. ^By 
Giulio,' said the Monsignore, and he watched the face of 
Lothair, but it was listless. 

Then he showed Lothair another and another and an- 
other. At last he held before him one which was really 
by Rafiaelle, and by which Lothair was evidently much 
moved. His eye lit up, a blush sufiused his pale cheek, he 
took the drawing himself and held it before his gaze with a 
trembling hand. 

* Yes, I remember this,' he murmured, for it was one of 
those faces of Greek beauty which the great painter not 
infrequently caught up at Rome. The Monsignore looked 
gently round and waved his hand, and immediately there 
arose the hymn to the Virgin in subdued strains of ez- 
qaisite melody. 



I On tlie next moming, whea Lothair woke, he fnond on 
B table bj his side tlie drawttig of the Virgin in a, atiding 

About tliifi time the Monsignore began to accnstom 
Lothoir to leave hia apartment, and as ha was not yet per- 
iiiitled to walk, Cat«aby introdoced what he called an 
English chair, in which Lothair was enabled to survey a. 
Utile the place which bad buon to him a refuge and a 
home. It seemed a building of vast size, raised round an 
inner court with arcades and windows, and, iii the higher 
story whore ho resided, an apparently endloaa number of 
chambers and galleries. One morning, in their peram- 
bulations, the Monsignore unlocked the door of a covered 
way which had no light but from a lamp which guided 
tlieir passage. The opposite door at the end of this 
covered way opened into a church, hut one of a charactei 
difierent from any which Lotlialr hod yet entered. 

It had been raised dnring the latter half of the aisteenth 
century by Vignola, when, under the influence of the gi'eat 
Pagan revival, the Christian Cimrch began to assume the 
character of an Olympian temple. A central painted 
cnpola of large but exquisite proportjous, supported by 
pilaslera with gilded capitals, and angels of white marble 
Springing irom golden brackets; walla encrusted with rare 
materials of every tint, and altars supported by serpentine 
oolnmns of agate and alabaster; a blaze of pictures, aud 
■tatneB, and precious atones, and precioua metals, denoted 
one of th« chiof temples of the sacred brotherhood of 
JesQB, raided when the great order had recognised that the 
views of primitive and medifeval Christianity, foanilod on 
the bnniilitry of man, were not in accordauce with the aga 
of confidence in human snergy, in which they were dcs~ 
ttued to rise, and which they were determined to direct. 

Onided by Catcsbj, and leaning on a staff, Lothaii 

Lned a gorgeona tiido chapel in which maas was c«lo- 



^^pined a 



328 LOTH AIR. 



bratmg; the air was rich with inoense, and all heaveD 
seemed to open in the ministrations of a seraphic choir. 
Crashed hj his g^reat calamities, both physical and moral, 
Lothair sometimes felt that he conld now be content if ths 
rest of his life conld flow away amid this celestial fira* 
grance and these gnsliing sounds of heavenly melody. 
And absorbed in these feelings it was not immediately 
observed by him that on the altar, behind the daszling 
blaze of tapers, was a picture of the Virgin, and identically 
the same countenance as that he had recognised vnth emo- 
tion in the drawing of Baffaelle. 

It revived perplexiog memories which agitated him, 
thoughts on which it seemed his brain had not now 
strength enough to dwell, and yet with which it now 
seemed inevitable for him to grapple. Tho congregation 
was not very numerous, and when it broke up, several of 
tht^m lingered behind and whispered to the Monsigoore, 
and then, after a little time, Catesby approached Lotbair 
and said, ^ There are some here who would wish to kiss 
your hand, or even touch the hem "of your garments. It 
is troublesome, but natural, considering all that hss 
occurred and that this is the first time, perhaps, that they 
may have met anyone who has been so fiivoured.* 

' Favoured ! ' said Lothair ; ' am I favoured P It seems 
to me I am the most forlorn of men, if even I am that.' 

' Hush ! ' said the Monsignore, * we must not talk of 
these things at present ; ' and he motioned to some who 
approached and contemplated Lothair with blended curio- 
Bity and reverence. 

These visits of Lothair to the beautiful church of the 
Jesuits became of daily occurrence, and oflen happened 
several times on the same day ; indeed they formed tho 
only incident which seemed to break his Ustlessness. He 
became interested in the change and variety of the services, 
in the persons and characters of the officiating priests. 



E 



e Eoli manners of ttieso fathers, their mtelligcnce in the 

of tlioir offices, their obliging carriage, and 

nnalTect^d concern with wlucb all he said or did eeemed 

to inspire them, won upon liim unconsciously. The church 

had beeomo his world ; and his sjnnpathies, if he still hod 

ejinpathies, Bcemed confined to those within its walls. 

In the meantime his physical odvanceinent though slow 
was gradnal, and had hitherto never been arrested. He 
coold even walk a little alone, though artiGcially snpportfid, 
and rambled about the balls and galleries fiill of a pro- 
digious quantity of pictures, from the days of Haffael 
Soimo to those of KaETael Mengs. 

' The doctors think now wo might try a little di-Jve," said 

the Monaignore one morning. ' The rains have ceaaed and 

rofreBhed everything, To-day ia like tlie burst of sprini;.' 

And when Lothoir eeoracd to shudder at the idea of facing 

anything hke the external world, the Moutiignore BUggcsIud 

■mmediutely that they ehonld go oat in a close carriage, 

rlilcb they finally entered in the huge quadrangle of the 

Lothair was so nervous that he pulled down 

ren the blind of his window ; and tlie Monsij^orc, who 

[ways humoured hiia, half pulled down his own. 

Their progroes seemed through a silent land and they 

hardly be traversing streets. Then the ascent be- 

a little precipitous, and then the carriage stopped and 

Monsignore said, ' Hero is a solitary epot. We shall 

e. The view is charming, and tlie air ia soft.' 

id he placed his hand gently on the arm of Lothair, and, 

as it were, drew him out of the carriage. 

The sun was bright, and the sky was bland. There waa 
BoroetUing in the breath of nature that was delightful. The 
Goent of violets was worth all the incense in the world ; all 
the splendid marbles and priestly vestments seemed hard 
aod cold when compared with the glorious colours of the 
jDBctns and the wild forms of tlic golden a:ul gigantic aloes. 



330 LOTHAIR, 



The Fayoni&D breeze played od the brow of Uiia beactiflil 
hill, and the exqniidte palm trees, while thej bowed tbdr 
roBtling heads, answered in responsive chorna to the anti- 
phon of nature. 

The dreary look that had been so long imprinted on the 
&oe of Lothair melted away. 

* 'Tis well that we came, is it not ? * said Catesby ; ' and 
now we wiU seat ourselves.' Below and before them, on 
an nndnlating site, a city of palaces and ohnrches sprend 
out its aognst form, enclosing within its ample walls soms* 
times a wilderness of classic ruins, oolunm and arch and 
theatre, sometimes the umbrageous spread of princely 
gardens. A winding and turbid river divided the city in 
unequal parts, in one of which there rose a vast and 
glorious temple, crowned with a dome of almost super- 
human size and skill, on which the favourite sign of heaven 
flashed with triumphant truth. 

The expression of relief which, for a moment, had re- 
posed on the face of Lothair, left it when he said in an 
agitated voice, ' I at length behold Rome ! ' 



CHAPTER LXII. 



Thu recognition of Rome by Lothair evinced not only a 
consciousness of locality, but an interest in it not before 
exhibited ; and the ^lonsignore soon afler seized the oppor- 
tunity of drawing the mind of his companion to the past^ 
and feeling how far he now realised the occurrences that 
immediately preceded his arrival in the city. But Lothair 
would not dwell on them. * I wish to think of nothing,' 
ho said, * that happened before I entered this city : all I 
desire now is to know those to whom I am indebted ioiz 
my preservation in a condition that seemed hopeless.' 



LOTH A IR. 331 

'There is LOtLing hopelosE with Divine aid,' saJd the 
Uonsignore ; * bat, humauly speaking, jou are indebted 
for jnonr preBerTB.tioa to English friouda, long and iutd- 
mately cheristicd. It is under their roof thut 70Q dwell, 
the Agostini palace, temuiled by Lord St. Jerome.' 

* Lord St. Joronie ! ' mnrmorod Lothulr to himself. 

'And the ladies of his honae are those who, only with 
some slight aaaiBljince from my poor self, tended you 
Uironghoat your moat deaperabi state, and when we aome- 
limefi almost feared that mind and body were alike 
wrecked." 

' I have a dream of angola,' said Lotboir ; ' and Bom&- 
dmeB 1 Iiiit«ned to heavenly voices that I seemed to have 
heard before.' 

'I am sure yoo have not forgotten the ladies of that 
hnuse? ' eaid Cntesby watching his coautenaiiee. 

' No; one of theni snmmoned me U> meet her at Rome,' 
laarmnrcd Lotliair, 'and I am het-e.' 

' That summons was divine,' snid Cateshy, ' and only the 
herald of tbe great event that was oi'daiued and has since 
OccDTrud. In this holy city Misa Arundel must ever count 
B8 the moat sanctified of her sex.' 

Lotliair relapsed into eiieaifl, which Bubaenuently ap- 
pear«d to be meditation, for when the carriage stopped, 
and the Monsignore assisted him to alight, he said, * I 
most see Lord St. Jerome.* 

And in the al'tomoon, wiLh due and preparatory an- 
^^Ipniuwnient, Lord St. Jerome wuited on Lothiur. The 
^■HonBignore nsLered htm into the chamber, and, though he 
^^HA tbom as it wore alone, never quitted it. He watched 
^Bbem conversing, while he seemed to be arranging books 
■' Mid Bowera-, he hovered over the couforonL-e, dropping 
down on them at a critical momeut, when the words be- 
I either hinguid or ctiibarraBsing. Loi-d St. Jerome 
1 a hearty inao, simple aud high-bred. He addressed 



Bwu a 



332 LOTH AIR. 



Lothair with all his former kindness, but wiih some 
degree of reserve, and even a dash of ceremony. LoUiftir 
was not insensible to the alteration in his manner, bat 
could ascribe it to many causes. He was himself resolved 
to make an effort, when Lord St. Jerome rose to depart, 
and expressed the intention of Lady St Jerome to wait on 
him on the morrow. ' No, my dear Lord,' said Lothair; 
* to-morrow I make my first visit, and it shall be to my 
best friends. I would try to come this evening, but thej 
will not be alone ; and I must see them alone, if it be only 



once.* 



This visit of the morrow rather pressed on the nervoaa 
system of Lothair. It was no slight enterprise, and called 
up many recollections. He brooded over his engagement 
daring the whole evening, and his night was disturbed. 
His memory, long in a state of apathy, or curbed and 
controlled into indifference, seemed endowed with unnatural 
vitality, reproducing the history of his past life in rapid 
and exhausting tumult. All its scenes rose before him, 
Brentliam, and Vauxe, and Muriel, and closing with oue 
absorbing spot, which, for a long time, it avoided, and in 
which all merged and ended, Belmont. Then came that 
anguish of the heart, which none can feel but those who in 
the youth of life have lost some one infinitely fascinating 
and dear, and the wild query why he too had not fallen on 
the fatal plain which had entombed all the hope and 
inspiration of his existence. 

The interview was not so trying an incident as Lothair 
anticipated, aa often under such circumstances occurs. 
Miss Arundel was not present ; and in the second place, 
although Lothair could not at first be insensible to a 
cliange in the manner of Lady St. Jerome, aa well as in 
that of her lord, exhibiting as it did a degree of deference 
and ceremony which with her towards him were quite 
unusual, still the genial, gushing nature of this lively and 



^tlioBiAdtic woman, full oC sjnipathy, i 

i her heart nas overflowing with s 
lesings, and gratitude for his escape. 

'And aft«r all,' she saiil, 'everything must have been 
ordained ; and, without ttiese tnala and even calamitica, 
■Ahal great event could not have been brought abont which 
fcanet make all hail you ae the moat favonrcd of men.' 
H Lotbaii- Btared with a look of perplexity, and tben said, 
■• If I be the moat favonreil of men, it is only because two 
angelic beings have deigned to minister to me in my 
k sweet devotion I can never forget, and, 






CHAPTER LXIIL 



^KlOTHiiK was not destined to meet Clare Arundel alone or 
^BBsly in the presence of bor family. He had acceded, after 
a short lime, to the wish of Lady St, Jerome, and the 
advice of Monaignore Catesby, to wait on her in the 
erening, when Lady St. Jerome was always at home and 
never alone. Her rooms were the privileged resort of the 
very cream of Roman society and of those English who, 
p like herself, had returned to the Roman Church. An 
dian palace supplied an excellent occastoa for the display 
? the peculiar genius of our countrywomen to make a 
e habitable. Beaotifnl carpets, baskets of flowers, and 
Mee of ferns, and chairs which yon could sit upon, tables 
covered with an infinity of toys, spwkling, uHofnl, and 
fdntiiBtic, huge siikcn screens of rich colonr, and a profu- 
Q of light, produced a acece of combined comfort and 
tillittncy which made everyone social who entered it, and 
nmed to give a bright and gracefitl tnm even to the 
releu remarks of ordinary gossip. 
' Ijady St, Jerome rose the moment hor eyo nanglil Uie 



334 LOTH AIR. 



eutry of Loihair, and, adTancing, received him with an fui 
of oeremonj, mixed, however, with an expression of per- 
sonal devotion which was distressing to him, and singnlariy 
oontrasted with the easy and genial receptions that he 
remembered at Vanxe. Then Ladj St. Jerome led Loihair 
to her companion whom she had just quitted, and pre- 
sented him to the Princess Tarpeia-Cinqne Cento, a dame 
in whose veins, it was said, flowed both consular and 
pontifical blood of the rarest tint. 

The Princess Tarpcia- Cinque Cento was the greatest kdj 
in Rome ; had still vast possessions, palaces and villas and 
vineyards and broad &rms. Notwithstanding all that had 
occurred, she still looked upon the kings and emperors 
of the world as the mere servants of the Pope, and on the 
old Roman nobility as still the Conscript Fathers of the 
world. Her other characteristic was superstition. So she 
was most distinguished by an irrepressible haughtiness and 
an illimitable credulity. The only softening circumstance 
was that, being in the hands of the Jesuits, her religion 
did not assume an ascetic or gloomy character. She was 
fond of society, and liked to show her wondrous jewels, 
which were still unrivalled, although she had presented 
His Holiness in his troubles with a tiara of diamonds. 

There were rumours that the Princess Tarpeia- Cinque 
Cento had on occasions treated even the highest nobility 
of England with a certain indifiference ; and all agreed that 
to laymen, however distinguished, her Highness was not 
prone too easily to relax. But, in the present instance, it 
is difficult to convey a due conception of the graciousness 
of her demeanour when Loihair bent before her. She 
appeared even agitated, almost rose from her seat, and 
blushed through her rouge. Lady St. Jerome, guiding 
Lothair into her vacant seat, walked away. 

* We shall never forget what you have done for us,' said 
the Princess to Lothair. 



LOTH AIR. 33S 

' I have done nothing," anid Lothair, with a surprised air. 

'Ah, that is bo like ^ftod beings like yoa,' said the 

Princesa. ' Tbey never will think they have done Miy- 

tliinj;, even wore they to Biive the world,' 

I, ' You are too graciooa, Princeaa," aaid Lothair ; ' I hare 

^bo clnjms to esteem vhich all mast eo value.' 

^H ' Who has, if yon have not P ' rejoined the Pruicean, 

^VTes, it ia to yon and to yon alone that we must look, I 

^^im very impartial in what I eay, for, to be frank, I have 

not been of those who believed that the great chftmpion 

would rise without the patrimony of St, Petr-r, I am 

ashamed to say that I have even looked with jeaJonsy on 

ths energy tlint haa been shown by indii-idaak in other 

eonntrieB ; bat I now confess that I was in error. I can- 

^_BOt resist this manifestation. It is a privilege to have 

BKred when it hapjicned. All that wo can do now is to 

^Hbensh your favoured Ufc' 

^B ' Ton are too kind. Madam,' murmured the perplexed 
Eothair. 

'I have done notbing,* rejoined the Princess, 'and am 
uhamed that I have done nothbg. But it b well for you, 
at this season, to be at Rome ; and you cannot be better, I 
Tiia snre, than under this roof. Bat when the spring 
breaks, I hope you will hoaonr me, by accepting for your 
use a villa which I have at Albano, and which at thnt 
season has many charms.' 

There were other Roman ladies in the room only inferior 
in rank and importance to the Princeaa Tarpeio-Ciuquo 
Cento ; and in the course of the evening, at tlioir earnest 
request, they were made ac(|uaint«d with Lothair, for it 
cannot bo said he was presented to them. These ladies, 
gBnerslly so calm, would not wait for the ordinary oere- 
mony of life, bnt, as he approached to be introduced, sank 
o the gronnd with the obeiaanoe oflered only to royalty. 
f Tbere were some cardinals in the apartment and Eevoml 



336 LOTH AIR. 



moDfli^ori. Caiesby was there in dose attendanoe on a 
pretty English countess who had jost *gone over.' Her 
husband had been at first very much distressed at the 
event, and tore himself from the severe duties of the House 
of Lords in the hope that he might yet arrive in time ai 
Rome to save her souL But he was too late ; and, strange 
to say, being of a domestic turn, and disliking fekmily dis- 
sensions, he remained at Rome during the rest of tiie 
session, and finally * went over ' himself. 

Later in the evening arrived his Eminence Cardinal 
Berwick, for our friend had gained and bravely gained the 
great object of a churchman's ambition, and which e?en 
our Laud was thinking at one time of accepting, although 
he was to remain a firm Anglican. In the death-struggle 
between the Church and the Secret Societies, Berwick had 
been the victor, and no one in the Sacred College more 
truly deserved the scarlet hat. 

His Eminence had a reverence of radiant devotion for the 
Princess Tai*peia- Cinque Cento, a glance of friendship for 
Lady St. Jerome, for all a courtly and benignant smile; 
but when he recognised Lothair, he started forward, seized 
and retained his hand, and then seemed speechless with 
emotion. * Ah ! my comitule in the great struggle,' he at 
length exclaimed; 'this is indeed a pleasure, and to see 
you here ! ' 

Early in the evening, while Lothair was sitting by the 
side of the Princess, his eye had wandered round the room, 
not unsuccessfully, in search of Miss Arundel ; and when 
ho was free he would immediately have approached her, but 
she was in conversation with a Roman prince. Then when 
she was for a moment free, ho was himself engaged ; and 
at last he had to quit abruptly a cardinal of taste, who was 
describing to him a statue just discovered in the baths of 
DiocletiazLy in order to seize the occasion that again offered 
itselfl 



LOTH AIR. 



337 



Her manner was constrained wlien he addressed Iier, but 
aha gftve liim her hand which ho pressed to hia lipn. Look 
ing deeply into hor violet eyes bo Boid, ' You sunxmouQd me 
k'> meet jitu ut Rome; 1 am here.' 

' And I summoned you to other things,' she answered, at 
first with hesitation and a blush ; bat then, aa if rallying 
heraelf to the purfurmance of a duty too high to allow of 
personal embarrassment, alie added, ' all of which jou will 
perform, as becomes one favoured by Heaven,' 

' I have been favoared by you,' siiid Lothair, speaking 
low and hurriedly; 'to whom 1 owe my life and more than 
my life. Yea,' he coutiiiued, 'this is not (he iwene I 
would have chosBU to express my gratitude to you for all 
tlmt yon have done for me, and my admii-ution of your snb- 
1 but I can no longer repress the feehngs of 
1, tiiongli their utterance be as inadequate as yocr 

e been truiiaeendeiil.' 
s but the instrument of a higher Power." 
V all instrumenla of a higher Power, but the ia- 
mcDts chosen are always choice.' 

I it is,' said Miss Arundel ; ' and that is what 
« you feeL For it is impossible that such a selection 
d have been made, as in your case, without your being 
1 for great results.' 

1 shuttered actor for great results,' aaid 
Lulhair, shaking his head. 

' Yuu have bad trials,' said Miss Amndel ; ' so hod St. 
Ignatius, su bad St. Francis, and great temptations; but 
these are the tests of eliaracter, of will, of spiritual power : 
the line gold is searched. All tbinga that Ijnvo happened 
have U'uded and been ordained to one end, awl (hat waa lo 
make you the uham|iion of the Chureh of which yon ari» 
now more than the cliild.' 
■ Uore than the child ? ' 
'Indeed 1 think so. However, this ia liardly the place 




338 LOTH AIR. 



and occasion to dwell on snch matters ; and, indeed, I knov 
jour friends, my friends equally, are desiroos that ycmr 
convalescence should not be annecessarilj disturbed by 
what must be, however delightful, still agitating thoughts; 
but you touched yourself unexpectedly on the theme, and 
at any rate you will pardon one who has the inconvenient 
quality of having only one thought.' 

' Whatever you say or think must always interest me.' 
' You are kind to say so. I suppose you know that oar 
Cardinal, Cardinal Grandison, will be here in a few days?* 



CHAPTER LXIV. 



A.LTHOUGH the reception of Lothair by his old fncnds and 
by the leaders of the lloman world was in the highest 
degree flattering, there was sometliing in its tone which 
was perplexing to him and ambiguous. Could they be 
ignorant of his Italian antecedents ? Impossible. Miss 
Arundel had ad mitted, or rather declared, that he had ex- 
perienced pneat trials, and even temptations. She could 
only allnde to what had occurred since their parting in 
England. But all this was now looked upon as satis- 
factory, because it was onlained, and tended to one end ; 
and what was that end ? His devotion to the Church of 
Rome, of which they admitted he was not formally a child. 
It was true that his chief companion was a pnest, and 
that ho passed a great portion of his life within the walk 
of a church. But the priest was his familiar friend in 
England, who in a foreign land had nursed him with devo- 
tion in a desperate illness; and although in the great 
calamities, physical and moral, that had overwhelmed him, 
ho h3xi found solace in the beautiful services of a reliirion 
•vhich he respected, no one for a moment had taken ad- 



LOT HAIR. 



339 



vanfAge of thin mood of his suflering and enfeebled mind 
to encmp him into controversy, or to betray him into 
•idntissions that be might afterwards consider precipitate 
«.iid immature. Indeed nothing conld be more delicate 
Ihan the coudnct of the Jesuit fathers thronghout his com- 
niDnications with thetu. Thoy seemed sincerely gratified 
tli!it a snffering fellow-creatnre shonid find even temporary 
consolation within (.heir fair and consecrated stmctni-e ; 
their voices modulated with Eympathy ; their glances 
gnsbed with fraternal aifection ; their afl'ectjonato polite- 
ness contrived, in a thousand slight instances, the selection 
of a mass, the arrangement of a picture, the loan of a 
book, to contribute to the interesting or elegaul distraction 
of his forlorn and brooding being. 

And yet Lolhair began to feel nnea«j, and his uneasiness 
increased proportionately as his health improved. He 
sometimes thought that he should like to make an efibrt 
and get about a little in the world; but he was very weak, 
and withont any of the rcnonrces to which he had been 
ftt^nnelomed thronghout life. Me hud no servants of hia 
no carriages, no moil of bttstness, no banker; and 
I at last he tried to bring himself to write to Mr. 
htney Giles, a painful task, Monsignore Cfltesby offered 
I undertake bis whole correspondence for him, and an- 
Bonnced that his medical attendants had declared that he 
most under no circumslancea whatever attempt at present 
to wrrile a letter. Hitherto ho Jmd been without money, 
^^vhich was lavishly supplied for his physicians and other 
^Htkuts ; and he would have been withont clothes if the 
^^boAt fashionable tailor in Rome, a German, had not been 
^"In frequent attendance on him under the direction of 
Monsignore Catesby, who in fact bad orgBJiieed biE ward- 
robe as he did everjthing else. 

Soroebow or other Lothair never seemed alone, When 
B woke in the morning the Kousignore waa fi-eqnently 



Br a 



Kawot 




340 LOTH AIR. 



kneeling before an oratory in bis room, and if by any 
chance Lothair was wanting at Lady St. Jerome's re- 
ception, Father Coleman, who was now on a visit to the 
family, would look in and pass the evening with bim, ss 
men who keep a gaming table find it discreet occasionally 
to change the dealer. It is a huge and even stupendous 
pile, that Palazzo Agostini, and yet Lothair never tried to 
thread his way through its vestibules and galleries, or 
attempt a reconnaissance of its endless chambers without 
some monsignore or othei; gliding up quite apropos, and 
relieving him from the duhiess of solitary existence during 
the rest of his promenade. 

Lothair was relieved by hearing that his former guardian, 
Cardinal Grandison, was daily expected at Rome ; and he 
revolved in his mind whether he should not speak to his 
Eminence generally on the system of his life, which he felt 
now required some modification. In the interval, however, 
uo change did occur. Lothair attended every day the 
services of the chuit*h, and every evening the receptions of 
Lady St. Jerome ; and between the discharge of these two 
duties he took a drive with a priest, sometimes with more 
than one, but always most agreeable men, generally in the 
environs of the city, or visited a convent, or a villa, some 
beautiful gardens, or a gallery of works of art. 

It was at Lady St. Jerome's that Lothair met his former 
guardian. The Cardinal had only arrived in the morning. 
His manner to Lothair was afiectionate. He retained 
Lothair's hand and pressed it with his pale, thin fingers; 
his attenuated countenance blazed for a moment with a 
divine light. 

1 have long wished to see you, sir,' said Lothair, * and 
much wish to talk with you.* 

* I can hear nothing from you nor of you but what must 
be most pleasing to me,' said the Cardinal. 

* I ^ish I could believe that,' said Lothair. 



LOTH AIR. 



34' 



w 



[ 



The Cardmnl carcRsed him ; pat Lis arm rooiid Lolhaiv's 
Deck aiid Baid, 'There is no time like tbe presGut. Let us 
w&lk together in this ^Itaiy,' aad tiiey witlidrew naturvlly 
from the immediate Bcpne. 

' Tun knuw all that has happened, I daresaj,' suid 
LolLair with embai't'dssmeitt and with a sigh, 'since we 
pftrted in Engliind, sir.' 

'All,' said the Cardiual. ' II has been a most striking 
and merciful dispoiisation.' 

'Thenl need not dn-eU upon it,' said Lothair, ' and 
natundly it would be most painful. What I wish purtitti- 
larly tu spuak to jou about is mj poaitiou under this roof. 
What I awe to those who dwell under it no language can 
describe, and no eObrta on my pari, and they shall be on- 
censing, ctm repay. Bat I think the time hna come when 
X ought no loii^r to trespass on their allectionato devotion, 
though, when I allude to the topic, they seem to mis- 
intfirpret the motives which influence me, and to bo pained 
rather than relieved by my auggi^stions. I cannot hear 
being looked upon as ungrateful, when it 
to them. I think, sir, you might help i 
this right." 

' If it be necessary,' said the Cardinal ; 
yon misconceive them. When I last left Rome yon wew 

iij ill, but I.ady St. Jerome and others have written to 
almost daily abont you daring ray absence, so that I 
familiar with all that has occurred, and quite cognisant 
their feelings. Rest assured that, towards yourself, 
they are exactly what they ought to be and whnt you 
would desire.' 

* Well I am glad,' said Lothair, ' that you are acquainted 
with everything that has happened, for you can put them 
right if it be necessary; but I somelimus cannot hi<l|i 
bncying that they are under some faUe imprcuwon both 

to mv conduct and my couviclions.' 



□ fact I am devoted 
1 putting all 



' but I apprehend 



342 LOTH AIR. 



' Not in the aligbtest,' said the Cardinal, * trust me, my 
dear friend, for that. Thej know everything and appre- 
ciate everything ; and great as, no doubt, have been your 
Bufierings, feel that everything has been ordiiined for the 
best; that the hand of the Almighty has been visible 
tlirooghont all these strange events ; that His Chorch was 
never more clearly built npon a rock than at this moment ; 
that this great manifestation will revive, and even restore, 
the faith of Christendom ; and that you yourself most be 
looked npon as one of the most favoured of men.' 

* Everybody says that,* said Lothair rather peevishly. 

' And everybody feels it,' said the CardinaL 

'^ell, to revert to lesser points,' said Lothair. * I do not 
say I want to return to England, for I dread returning to 
England, and do not know whether I shall ever go back 
there; and at any nite I doubt not my health at present is 
unequal to the effort ; but I should like some change in my 
mode of life. I will not say it is too much cuntrolled, for 
nothing seems ever done without first cousulting me ; but, 
some how or other, we are always in the same groove. I 
wish to see more of the world ; I wish to see Rome, and 
the people of Rome. I wish to see and do many things 
which, if I mention, it would seem to hurt the feelings of 
others, and my own are misconceived, but if mentioned by 
you all would probably be diflerent.' 

*I understand you, my dear young fritMul, my child, I 
will still say,' said the Cardinal. * Nothing can be moi% 
reasonable than what you suggest. No doubt our friends 
may be a little too anxious about you, but they are the 
best people in the world. You appear to me to he quite 
well enough now to make more exertion than hitherto tlu'y 
have thought you capable of. They see you every day, and 
cannot judge so well of you as I who have been absent. I 
will charge myself to effect all your wishes. And we will 
begin by my taking you out to-morrow and 3'our driving 



LOTHAIR. 343 

ivitb me aboat the city. I will eliow yon. Borne and tba 
Eomain people.' 

t Accordingly, on the morrow, Cardinal Gmndison and his 
fB papi1 visited together Rome and the li-omans. And first 
nil L»tltair was presented to tbo Cardinal Prefect of tite 
upaganda, who presides over tlie ecclesiastical aSaira of 
every coootiy in which the Roman Clmrch has a misAioii, 
Kud that indndos every land between the Arctic and tlie 
'! S onthem Pole. This glimpae of the orfraTiised correspond- 
^^nce with buth the Ameincas, all A^iu, all Afniuk, all 
^^BLfflstralia, and many European conntries, carried on by a 
^^oontless staff of clerks in one of tiie mo^t cajiacious huiUI- 
1 ings in the world, was calculated to impress the visitor 
with a dne idea of the extensive authority of the Roman 
PoDtiff. This institution, greater, according to the C»r- 
dinal, than any which existed in ancient Rome, was to 
propagate the faith, the purity of which the next establish- 
ment tbey visited waa to maintain. According to Carditiiil 
■'Oraudison thrre never was a body tbe diameter of which 
i been so wilfully and so malignantly misrepresented aa 
ut of llie Roman Inquisition. Its trae object is relbrma- 
I not punishment, and therefore pardon waa anre to 
r the admiaaioQ of error. True it was there worp 
tvulting stories afloat, for winch there was undoubtedly 
I foundation, though their cKaggoration and malice 
e evident, of the mthlesa conduct of the Inquisition; 
nt these details were entirely conliiicil to Spain, and were 
a oonaequences not of tlie principles of tiie Holy Office, 
bnt of the S]miiisli race, poisoned by Moorish and Jewish 
blood, or by long contact with those inhuman iutidels. 
Had it not been for the Inqnisition organi^in}^ and direct- 
l the mitigating inHnences of tlio Church, S|K<iii would 
lave been a land of wild beasts; and even la quite modern 
fas the Holy Office at Rome which aJwayR stopiNXJ 
ward to pi'otfct the [H-i-secuted, and, by tliu power of 



344 LOTH AIR, 



3ip[»ea] from Madrid to Rome, saved the lives of Uiobg who 
were unjustly or extravagantly accused. 

' The real business however of the Holy Office now,' 
continued the Cardinal, ' is in reality only doctrinal ; and 
there is something truly sublime, essentially divine, I wonM 
say, in this idea of an old man, like the Holy Father, him- 
self the object of ceaseless persecution by all the children 
of Satan, never foi a moment relaxing his heaven-inspired 
efforts to maintain the purity of the faith once delivered to 
the Saints, and at the same time to propagate it throigh- 
out the whole world, so that there should be no land on 
which the sun shines that should not afford means of salva- 
tion to suffering man. Yes, the Propaganda and the In- 
quisition alone are sufficient to vindicate the sacred claims 
of Rome. Compared with them mere secular and humau 
institutions, however exalted, sink into insignificance.' 

These excursions with the Cardinal were not only re- 
peated, but became almost of daily occurrence. The Car- 
dinal took Lothair with him in his visits of business, and 
introduced him to the eminent characters of the city. 
Some of these priests were illustrious scholars, or votaries 
of science, whose names were quoted with respect and as 
authority in the circles of cosmopolitan philoRO]>hy. Then 
there were other institutions at Rome, which tlie Cardinal 
snatched occasions to visit, and which, if not so awfully 
venerable as the Propaganda and the Inquisition, never- 
theless iestifiod to the advanced civilisation of Rome and 
the Romans, and the enlightened administration of the 
Holy Father. According to Cardinal Grandison, all the 
great modem improvements in the administration of hos- 
pitals and prisons originated in the eternal city ; scientific 
ventilation, popular lavatories, the cellular or silent system, 
the reformatory. And yet these were nothing compared 
tvith the achievements of the Pontifical Government in 
education. In short, complete popular education only 



LOTHAIR. 3^5 

[ mX Borne. lift ecliouls weiv iriutv iiDnieroas even 
a foontnins. Gmlaiu>D3 iiistrni'lion orij^'naUxl wiUi 
the ecclesiBfitiofi ; and rraiu the night gcIiooI to Uio ani- 
Tersity ticre niiglit lie foaiii] the perfuct t^po. 

*I rc&llj believe,' Mid tlic Cnailinnl, ' tliiit a mo ro vir- 
tuous, a more t'eligiona, a timrc liapiijamU-unlpntfd [■■■oplo 
than the BoinaDB never existed. Tlief could all be ke|it 
in ordur witk the putini of one of your poautieB. Trae it is 
the Uuljr Fullicr is obliged to garrison the city n-itli tnclre 
tlionsand uiuu of all niiua, hut out ugaicBt tbo Etonians, not 
BgaioEt hi& onu sobjecta. It ia the Secret Sucictiea of 
1 who have e^inlilisbcd their lodges in this city, 
^tircly oonsistiitg of foreigneni, that render these lament- 
e precnnlions neoessary TIlcj wiU not rtst niiiil tliey 
!itirpHt«d the rvligious princi^ile frtim tht:< soul of man, 
and until they have reduced him to tlie condition of wild 
beasts. But tiiey will fail, aa tlicy failed the other day, as 
Sennacherib failed. These men may conquer Zouayes and 
CoiniBsicrR, but tboy cannot tight against Saint Michael 
and all the Angels. They may do mi&vUief, tUey may 
aggravate and prolong the misery of man, bnt tbey UTd 
o entire and eternal failure.' 




CHAPTER LXV. 



tDT St. Jeroue was much interested in the accoontfl 
liicJi the Cardinal and Lothair gave hoi' of their cxcnrsions 
1 the city and their viaiis. 

ime.' fcbe tiiid, 'I ever knew such good 
i they onijht to be i t>o favonreJ by Heaven, and 
I Uie wliicii, if anything earthly can, most give 
TTer faint, some foretuste of uur Joys hereafWr. 
Ijroor GminencB visit the Pellegrini r' ' TUm was tb£ 
bocpital wliciv kliss Aruudel liad found Iiothittr. 



346 LOTHAIR. 



The Cardinal lookod grave. *No/ he replied. *My 
objeofc was to aocnre for our joang friend some interesting 
but not agitating distraction from oertain ideas which, 
however admirable and transcendently important, are 
nevertheless too high and profound to permit their oonstant 
contemplation with impunity to our infirm natnrea Be- 
sides,' he added, in a lower, but still dibidnct tonei, ' I waa 
myself unwilling to visit in a mere casual manner the scene 
of what I must consider the greatest event of this centnxy.' 

' But 70U have been there ? ' enquired Lady St. Jerome. 

His Eminence crossed himselfl 

In the course of the evening Monsignore Catesby told 
Lothair that a gprand service was about to be celebrated at 
the church of St. (Jeorg^ : thanks were to be ofiered to the 
Blessed Virgin by Miss Arundel for the miraculous mercy 
vouchsafed to her in saving the life of a countryman, 
Lothair. ' All her friends will make a point of being there,* 
added the Monsignore, ' even the Protestants and some 
Russians. Miss Arundel was very unwilling at first to 
fulfil this office, but the Holy Father has commanded it. J 
know that nothing will induce her to ask you to attend ; 
and 3'et, if I were you, I would turn it over in your mind. 
I know she said that she would sooner that you were pro- 
sent than all her English friends together. However, you 
can think about it. One likes to do what is proper.' 

One does ; and yet it is difficult. Sometimes in doing 
what we think proper, we get into irremediable 8cra|)efl ; 
and often, what we hold to be proper, society in its caprice 
resolves to be highly improper. 

Lady St. Jerome had wished Lothair to see Tivoli, and 
they were all consulting together when they might go there. 
Lord St. Jei*ome who, besides his hunters, had his drag at 
Rome, wanted to drive them to the place. Lothair sate 
opposite Miss Arundel, gazing on her beauty. It was like 
being at Vauxe again. And yet a great deal had happened 



LOT HAIR. 



347 



r they were 8.t VaiiW! ; and wliat ? So far as they two 
e concerned, nothing but what ehonld create orcoufinn 
'relations of conBdence and atTcction. Whatever may have 
been the influence of otiiers on his existence, hers at leiiat 
had been one of intiiiite benigtiily. She bad saved hia life, 
Bhe had cherished it. She had niised him from the lowest 
depth of physical and moral praatralioti to health and cam- 
{wntive serenity. If at Vause he had beheld her with ad- 
miration, had listened with fasciuutcd interest to tlie fervid 
expression of her saintly thoughts, and the large pnrposea 
of hor heroic mind, all these feelings were natarally height- 
_ ened now when he had witnessed her lofty and consecrated 
□ action, and when that action in his own case had 
oly been exercised for his ineSabie advantage. 
' Your uncle cannot go to-morrow,' continued Lady S6, 
rome, 'and on Thursday I am CDgaged.' 

'And on Friday ' said Misa Arundel, heaitatiiig. 

a all engaged,' said Lady St. Jei'oiue. 
' 1 shonld hardly wish to go out befoi-e Friday anywhere,' 
■id Miss Arundel, speaking to her anut, and in a lowei 

Friday was the day on which the thanliBgiving service 
raa to be celebrated in the Jesuit church of 8t, George of 

ippadocia. Lotbair know this well enough and was em- 
ikagiving for the mercy vouchsafed to 
Hiving the life of a fellow-countryman, 
juntryiiian not present! All her Pt-o- 
uld be there, and some HoasianB. And 
ieemcd, on hia part, the most ungracions 
induct. And he knew thut ahe wonid 
to that of all her acauaiDtfi.ncea together. 
nngi'Bcious on hia part ; it was un- 



a Amndel ii 
that fellow 
BHtatit frienda ^ 
be not there I ] 
&nd intolcmble 
prefer hia pi 
It was 



Kwit 



^T&teful, almost iiil 

Lotbair tiate ailoul, and stupid, a 
with himself. Once or twice he i 



id BtitT 



and disttatialied 
sjieak, but hit 



348 LOTH AIR. 



tongue would not move, or his throat was not cleajr. And 
if he had spoken, he would only have made some trifling 
and awkward remark. In his mind's eye he. saw, gliding 
about him, the veiled figure of his sick room, and he 
recalled with cloaruess the unceasing and angelic tender- 
ness of which at the time he seemed hardly conscious. 

Miss Arundel had risen and had proceeded some way 
down the room to a cabinet where she was accustomed to 
phice her work. Suddenly Lothair rose and followed her. 
* Miss Arundel ! ' he said, and she looked round, hardly 
stopping when he had reached her. 'Miss Arundel, I 
hoi)e you will permit me to be present at the celebration on 
Friday P ' 

She turned round quickly, extending, even eagerly, her 
hand with mantling cheek. Her eyes glittered with celestial 
fire. The words hurried from her palpitating lips : ' And 
support me,* she said, * for I need support.' 

In the evening reception, ^lousigiiore Catesby approached 
Father Coleman. * It is done,' he said, with a look of 
eeintly triumph. ' It is done at last. He will not only ho 
present, but he will support her. There are yet eight and 
forty hours to elapse. Can anything happen to defeat us ? 
It would seem not ; yet when so much is at stake, one is 
fearful. He must never be out of our sight ; not a hunma 
being must approach him.' 

' I think we can manage that,' said Father Coleman. 



CHAPTEE LXVI. 

B JeGuIt ohnrch of St, Geoi-ge of Cappadocia wac aitnato 
I fiiieet piazzAs of Rome. It was eiUTonndecl 
with Rr<;adeE, ami in ita centre the most beautiful fountain 
ijf ihe city Bpoulecl forth its atrpnins (o an amazing height, 
Hriil iu forrnB of grsu;cfiil faiii-y. On Friday morning tho 
iiri:iiilc8 were ftstoonud with tapestry and hangings of 
criroBOO velvet and gold. Evei'y (lai-t wiia crowdi.id, and 
all the rank and faahion and power of Rome seemed to lie 
ihcre a.-<ectnb1ing. There had been once some intention on 
ilifl part of tlio Holy Father to be present, but a slight 
riidii position bad rendered that not desirable. His HoIineeH, 
however, had ordered a company of his halberdiera to attend, 
and the ground waa kept by those wonderful gtiarda in the 
of Ihe middle ages; halberds and rnfi's, and white 
s, and party-coloured coats, a match for our beef- 
. Carriages with scarlet umbrellafi on the box, and 
:h with three serving men behind, denol.eii the presence 
bT the cardinals in force. They were nsnally brilliant 
o'juipagc^, being sulFicionily new, or aiifficii'iitly new pur- 
chases, Oarilialdi and the late commanding oiEcor of Lotliair 
ng burnt most of tlie ancient coaciics in the time ot 
Roman Rcpuldio twenty years before. From each 
minonce descended with his scarlet cap and 
purple train borne by two attendants. Tho Princess 
leia-Cinque Cento was there, and most of the Roman 
and princeBses and dukes and duchesses. It seemed 
,t the whole court of Rome was there ; monsignori and 
>lut«B without end. Some of tbeir dresnes, and those ot 
le generals of the orders, appropriately varied the general 
Tect, for tho ladies were alt in black, their heads oovnrtd 
,ly with black vigils. 



p 



330 



LOTH AIR, 



Monsig^ore Catesby had arraoged with Lothair that 
they should enter the church bj their usual private waj, 
and liothair therefore was not in any degree prepared for 
the sight which awaited him on his entrance into it. The 
church wuR crowded; not a chair nor a tribune Tacant 
There was a suppressed gossip going on as in a public 
place before a performance begins, much fluttering of fims, 
some snufi* taken, and many sugar plums. 

' Where shall we find a place ? ' said Lothair. 

' They expect us in the sacristy,' said the Monsignore. 

The sacristy of the Jesuit church of St. George of 
Cappadocia might have served for the ball>room of a palace. 
It was lofty and proportionately spacious, with a grooved 
ceiling painted with all the court of heaven. Above the 
broad and richly gilt cornice floated a company of Seraphim 
that might have figured as the Cupids of Albano. The 
apartment was crowded, for there and in some adjoining 
chambers were assembled the cardinals and prelates, and 
all the distinguished or official characters, who, in a few 
minutes, were about to form a procession of almost un- 
equalled splendour and sanctity, and which was to parade 
tlie whole body of the church. 

Lothair felt nervous ; an indefinable depression came over 
him, as on the morning of a contest when a candidate enters 
his crowded committee-room. Considerable personages 
bo>ving, approached to address him : the Cardinal Prefect 
of the Propaganda, the Cardinal Assessor of the Holy 
Office, the Cardinal Pro-Datario, and the Cardinal Vicar of 
Ilome. Monsignori the Secretary of Briefs to Princes 
and the Master of the Apostolic Palace were presented to 
him. Had this been a conclave, and Lothair the fiiture 
Pope, it would have been impossible to have treated him 
with more consideration than he experienced. They assured 
him that they looked upon this day as one of the most in- 
teresting in their lives, and the importance of which to the 



LOTH AIR. 351 

Jkorcli ooald not be overrated. All tliia iiomewhftt eii- 

oni^ed hini, and be was more himself when a certain 

ineral stir, and tho entrance of mdiTidaals from adjoining 

ipartmenta, intimated that the proceedings were abont to 

imecce. Tt secntod difficult to marnhid so considerable 

Bf statclj iiQ as-Hcmblage, but those who had tlie 

laf^meot of aflairs wore exjierienccd in ancb malters. 

r acolytes and the thurifers fell into their places ; thero 

ned no end of banners and large golden crosses ; great 

the company of ihe prelates, a long pnrple line, some 

Duly in cassocks, some in robes, and mitred ; then came a 

banner of the Blessed Virgin, which excited intense 

nterost, and every eye was strained to catcb the pictared 

txav. After this banner, amid freqaent incense, walked 

if the most beautiful children in Rome, dreased as 

with golden wings ; the boy bearing a rose of 

iricho, the girl a hly. After these, as was understood, 

black and veiled, walked sis Indies, who wera 

mid to be daughters of the noblest houses of England, 

and then a single form with a veil touching tbe gromid. 

' Here we must go,' said Mousignore Catesby to Lothair, 
uid he gently but irreaistibiy guided bim into his place. 
' You know you promised to 8up|K>rt her. You had better 
take thin,' be said, placing a lighted taper in hJs hand; 
'it is Dxnal, and one should Dever be singidar.' 

fio they walked on, followed by tiie Roman princes, 
bearing a splendid baldachin. And then came the pomp of 
the cardinals, each with bis train-bearers, exhibiting with 
the skill of arlisls the splendour of their violet robes. 

As Iho head of the procession emerged from the sa- 
cristy inln the church, three organs and a choir, to wliich 
ftll tlie Roman chnrches had lent their choicest voices, 
burst into the Te Denin. B-ouiid the church and to all the 
chapels, and then np the noble nave, the majesiio proce*. 
sun moved, and ihea thy gat^js of the holy place opening, 



352 LOTHAIR. 



the cardinaJs entered and seated themaelvea, tbeir train. 
liearers crunching at their knees, the prelatec gronped 
themselves, and the banners and crossea were ranged io 
the distance, except the new banner of the Virgin, which 
seemed to hang over the altar. The Holy One seemed 
to be in what was recently a field of battle, and was 
addressing a beautiful maiden in the dress of a Sister of 
Mercy. 

* This is your place,* said Monsignore Catcsbj, and he 
guided Lothair into a prominent position. 

The service was long, but sustained by exquisite musiOi 
celestial perfumes, and the graceful movements of priests 
in resplendent dresses continually changing, it conld not be 
said to be wearisome. When all was over, Monsignore 
Catesby said to Lothair, ' I think we had better return by 
the public way ; it seems expected.' 

It was not easy to leave the church. Lothair was de- 
tained, and received the congratulations of the Princess 
Tarpeia-Cinque Cento and many others. The crowd, muob 
excited by the carriages of the cardinals, had not dimin- 
ished when they came forth, and they were obliged to 
linger some little time upon the steps, the Monsignore 
making difficulties when Lothair more than once proposed 
to advance. 

• I think we may go now,' said Catesby, and they de- 
bcended into the piazza. Lnmediately many persons in 
their immediate neighbourhood fell upon their knees, many 
asked a blessing from Lothair, and some rushed forward to 
kiss the hem of his garment 




I 



CHAPTER LXVn. 



[W Princess Tnrpeia-Ciiiqne Cento gave an entertain- 
ment in the evening in honour of ' the great event,' Italian 
[Htta^rea are bo vast, are so ill-adupted to the moJerate ea~ 
lahlisbiiients of modem times, that their gniiid style in 
generuil only impresses those who visit them with a fueling 
of disappointment and evea mortili cation. The meagre 
rptinnc aw almost invisihle aa tliey creep about the corri- 
diirs and galleries, and h[)ger in the sequence of lofty 
cliainbers. These should Ije tilled with crowds of serving 
men and ^ronpa of spleudid retainers. They were built 
fur tlie diiya when a great man was obliged to have a great 
Tiillowing ; and when the safety of his person, as well aa 
the snccBsB of his career, depended on the nmaber and the 
laetre of his train. 
,The pala4;e of the Princess Tarpeia was the most ceie- 
;d in Rome, ono of the most ancient, and certainly the 
^beaalifut. She dwelt in it in a manner not unworthy 
ilier consular blood and hei' modern income. To-night 
gaeste were received by a long line of foot servants in 
iwy liveries, and beriring the badge of her house, while 
every cuDveuient spot pages and gentlemen ushers in 
ly dix'sn guided the guests to their place of deslinii- 
The palace blazed with light, and showed to udvan. 
the thousand pictures 'which, it is said, were thcro 
irined, and the long giilleries full of the jiale statues of 
Ian gods and goddesses and the butit^ of the former 
Tnlers of Rome and the Bensatis. The atmosphere was 
fragrant with rare odonra, and music was heard amid the 
full of roant&ios iu the dim but fancifully illumined gar- 
dens. 



The Priuoesa Ueraelf y 



6 all tho: 






jewi 



■ets whioh 



354 LOTHAIR. 



bad been HjiHrtHl by all the Gotha from the days of Brennss 
to those of Garibaldi, and on her bosom reposed the cele- 
brated transparent cameo of Augnstns, which Cessar him- 
self is said u> have presented to LiWa, and which Bcnve- 
onto Cellini had set in a framework of Cupids and rabies. 
If the weight of her magnificence were sometimes distress- 
ing, she had the consolatioii of being supported by the arm 
of Lothair. 

Two younj^ Roman princes, members of the Goardia 
Nobile, discussed the situation. 

* The English here say,' said one, ' that he is their richest 



man.' 



• And very noble, too,' said the other. 

•Certainly, truly noble; a kind of consin of the Qiioen.' 

• This j^Tirat event must have an effect upon all their 
nobility. 1 cjinnot duubt thoy will all return to the Holy 
Father.' 

' They would if thov were not afraid of huvitig to restore 
their church lauds. But they would be much more happy 
if Rorao were again tho capital of the world.' 

• No shadow of doubt. I wonder if this young prince 
'Tnll hunt in the Campagiia ? * 

•All Englishmen hunt.* 

• I make no doubt he rides well, and has famous horses 
And will sometimes lend us one. I am glad his soul is 
sjivetL' 

• Yes ; it is well, when the Blessed Virgin interferes, it 
should be in favour of princes. When princes become 
opoil Christians it is an example. It does good. And this 
man will give an impulse to our opera, which wants it, 
and, e^s you say, he will have many horses.' 

In the coui-se of the evening Miss Arundel, with a beam- 
inpr face but of deep expression, said to Lothair, •! could 
tell you some good news had I not pn)mised the Cardinal 
tlia.t he should oonimunicato it to you himself. He will see 



LOTH AIR. 



355 



yoQ to-moiToiT. Allhongh it does not afiect me perBnnally, 
it will bo to mo the l>Appie;jt event tliiit ever occttired, tnt- 
oept, of cour.se, one.' 

' Wliat can s!ie mean ? ' thonglit Lotbair. But at that 
moment Cardinal Berwick appiijaohed him, and Miss 
Amndcl glided anay. 

Father Coleman attendud Lol.btur home to the Agoatini 
Pftlftcc, and when they parted said with much emphasiB, 
' I must cr>ngratnlat« you once more on the great event.' 
Ou tbe following nioruirig, Lothair found on his table a 
namber of the Roman Journal published that day. It waa 
cuBiomiiry to place it there, but in guneral be only glanced 
at it, and ncarecly that. On the preitent occasion hla own 
nanie caught imineJiatcly his eye. It figured in a long 
nccoant of the celubrolion of the preCL'ding day. It wiia 
with a continually changing countenance, now scarlet, now 
pallid as death; with a palpitating heart, a trembling 
linnd, a. coM perMpirafion, and at length a diaordered vision, 
that Lothuir read the whole of an article, of which vre now 
give a sununury ; 

* Rome was congratulated on the service of yesterday, 
Aiich celebmted the greateHt event of thia century. And 
I caroe to pass in this wise. I> seems that a yonng En- 

itible, of the highest rank, laraily, and fortune (and 

here Ihu name and titles of Lothair were accorately given), 

hke many of the ecinna of the illnatriuus and influential 

familitM of Britain, was impelled by an irresistihle moiive 

to enlist as a volunt^jer in the service of the Pope, when 

the Holy Father was recently attacked by the Secret 

Societies of Atheism. This gallant ami gifted youth, after 

^Bprodigies of valour and devotion, had fallen a1 Mentana iu 

^^■u sacred cause, and was given up for lu.st. The day 

^Hfter the battle, when the ambataiiccs lailen with the 

B^fonnded were hourly arriving at Rome from the fitjld, an 

Bngliflh lady, dauj^'liter of an illustnons house, i«Iuljrut«d 



•R. 



k 



3S6 



LOTHAtR. 



Uirvu^kont centuries for its devotioii to the Boly Sm, ud 
who daring the present awtaX trial had never ceaaod ia 
her cfibrta to mpport the cause of Christianity, iraa m- 
plojed, as was her wont, in offices of charitj, and mi 
tending with her companion sisters her wounded coonttj- 
men &t the hospital Lb. Consolazione, in the new mti 
wliich has been recently added to that establishment bj 
tlie Holy Father. 

' While she was leaning over one of the beds, she felt ■ 
gentle and peculiar pressure on ber shoulder, and, looking 
rtiand, beheld a most beautiful woman, with a countenMn 
of singnlar sweetness and yet majesty. And the risitor 
ituid, " You are attending to those English who believe in 
the Virgin Mary. Now at the Hospital Santissima Trinity 
di Pellegrini there is in an ambnlance a yonng Englishmui 
a]>parently dead, but wlio will not die if you go to luoi 
immediately and say you came in the name of tlie VirgiE." 

' The inflaence of the stranger was so irresistible that 
the young English tady, attended by a nurse and one ot 
the porters of La Conaolazionc, repaired instantly to tl* 
Di Pellegrini, and there they found in the courtyard, u 
tliuy had been told, an ambulance, in form and colour and 
equipment unlike any ambulance used by the papal troops, 
and in the ambulance the senseless body of a youth, wW 
was recognised by the English lady as lier young ud 
frnllant countryman. She claimed him in ihe name ni 
the Blessed Virgin, and, aft«r due remedies, was permitted 
to take him at once to his noble relativoe, who lived in tha 
Palazzo Agostini. 

' At\era ehort time much conversation begun to circnlata 
nbont this incident. The family wished to testily thnr 
gratitude to the individual whose information had led to 
the recovory of the body, and subsequently of the life of 
their relation ; bnttdl that they conld at first learn at Lb. Cod- 
eolazione was, that the porter believed the woman was M&ru 



r 



LOTH AIR. 



3S7 



Serafioa di Angelis, the LiunlHjme wife of a UJlor is Uie 
Strada di Bipetia, But it v/aa soon shown that this oonld 
not be tme, for it waa proved that, on the day in qneGtion, 
Uaria Serafina di Angelis vtks on a visit to a friend at La 
Riccia ; and, in the second place, that ahe did not bear the 
slightest resemblance to the stranger who hod given the 
news. Moreover, the porter of tiie gate being required to 
Etat« why he had ailmitted any stranger without the accus- 
lotned order, denied that he had bo done ; that be was in 
bis lodge and the gales were locked, and the stranger had 
passed through without his knowledge. 

'Two priests were descending tho stairs when the stran- 
ger came apon them, and they wore ho struck by the peen- 
liarity of her carriage, tliat they turned round and looked 
at her, and clearly obHerved at tho back of her head a sort 
of halo. Sbe was out of their sight while they were making 
this observation, but in consequence of it they made en- 
qoirie!) of the porter of the gate, and remained in the oonrt- 
yard till she retamed. 

' This she did a few minutes before the Enghsh lady and 
hiT attendants came down, as they had been detained by 
the preparation of some bandages and other remedies, 
without which they never moved. Tho porter of the gate 
having his atteotion called to tho circumstance by the 
priests, waa most careful in his observations as to the baUi, 
and described it as distinct. The priests then followed the 
stranger, who proceeded down a long and solitary street, 
made up in a great degree of garden and convent walls, 
and without a turning. They observed hor stop and speak 
W two children, and then, though there was no house to 
enter and oo street to turn into, ahe vanished. 

' When they had reached the children llioj found each of 
them holding in its hand a beautiful flower. It seems the 
d given the boy a rose of Jericho, and to his aister 
L white and golden lily. Enquiring whether she bad 



358 LOTH AIR. 



spoken to tkem, ihey answered that she had said, ''Let 
these flowen be kept in remembrance of me ; thej will 
never fiule.'* And truly, thoa^ months had elapsed, these 
flowers had never faded, and, after the procession of yester- 
day, they were placed nnder crystal in the chapel of the 
Blessed Virgin in the Jesuit church of St. George of 
Cappadocia, and may be seen every day, and will be seen 
for ever in primeval freshness. 

' This is the truthful account of what really occurred 
^th respect to this memorable event, and as it was asoer- 
Uiined by a Consul ta of the Holy Office, presided over by 
the Cardinal Prefect himself. The Holy Office is most 
severe in its inquisition of the truth, and though it well 
knows that the Divine presence never leaves His Church, 
it is most scrupulous in its investigations whenever any 
miraculous interposition is alleged. It was entirely by it« 
exertions that the somewhat inconsistent and unsatisfactory 
evidence of the porter of the gate, in the first instance, was 
explained, cleared, and established; the whole chain of 
evidence worked out; all idle gossip and mere rumours 
rejected ; and the evidence obtained of above twenty wifc- 
iiesses of all ranks of life, some of them members of the 
learned profession, ai^d others military officers of undoubted 
lionour and vei'a(*ity, who witnessed the first appearance of 
t he stranger at the Pellegrini, and the undoubted fact of 
tlie halo playing round her temples. 

* The Consul ta of the Holy Office could only draw one 
inference, sanctioned by the Holy Father himself, as to the 
chai-acter of the jwrsonage who thus deigned to appear 
and inter|)ose ; and no wonder that in the great function 
of yesterday, the eyes of all Rome were fixed upon Lothair 
aH the most favoured of living men.* 

He himself now felt as one sinking into an unfathomable 
abyss. The despair came over him that involves a man 
engaged in a hopeless contest with a remorseless pov/er. 



II tus liTe dorin'; the u 



c year pii 



sudr 



sliinplj acroKa Lu. 



a nicallcd the 

a to attend a function in a Jesaits* cltupel in an 
obscure nook of Loudon ; llie same ageiicicB had been em- 
plcywi llii-re ; then, as now, the inflnenco of Glare Amndel 
biid been introduced to sviay him when all olhi^rs had 
Ikiled. Delnioiit bad tiiivcd him then. There was no 
Dolmont now. The last words of Theodora niurnmred in 
his ear like the nwfjl voice of a diataot sea. They were the 
diapason of all the thought uiid ft^^jling of tiiat profound 
and pasaionnW sinrit. 

That seemed only a petty plot in London, and he had 
since eoraelinics emilod when he remembered huw it bad 
been baffled. Shallow apprehension ! The petty plot was 
Daly part of a gi-eat and UTiccasing and triumphant con- 
■pirjicy, and the obscure and inferior a(^ncies which be 
had been ra-sb enough to deride had consummated their 
commanded pnrpoKO in iho eyes of all Kuroja;, and wiih 
the aid of the (freul powers of i be world. 

Ua felt all ibe indi^'natiou naDii'ul to a sincere and higb- 

Bpirited man, who finds that be has been befooled by those 

■grhom he baa tmsted ; but summoning all his powers to 

luito himseir from bin desolate dilemma, he fouud him. 

»itliont resottrcc. What public declaration on his part 

nid alter the UDdcniable fact, now circulating throughout 

irld, that in the snpematund scene of yesterday 

e was tlie willing and the princi;ial actor I' Uuquestian- 

Uy he had been very imprudent, iLot only in that instance 

a his habitual risits to the church; he felt all thai 

But he was loru and shattered, I)i6nitely distressed 

1 in body and in mind ; weak and miserablu ; and he 

AODght he WHS leaning on angelic heai'ts, when he foaud 

wif in tlie embrace of spii-its of another sphcio. 

In what a [mRitioQ of uneiaujpled pain did be not now 

Isd bimself! To leol it your duty lo quit the faith in 



36o LOTH AIR. 



which you have been bred mast involve an awfnl paiig; 
but to be a renegade withont the consolation of consdenoe, 
ag^nst your sense, against your will, alike for no celeBtial 
hope and no earthly object, this was agony mixed with 
self- contempt. 

He remembered what Lady CJorisande had once said to 
him about those who quitted their native church for the 
Roman communion. What would she say now P He 
marked in imagination the cloud of sorrow on her imperial 
brow and the scorn of her curled lip. 

Whatever happened he could never return to England, 
at least for many years, when all the things and persons he 
cared for would have disappeared, or changed, which is 
worse; and then what would be the use of returning? 
He would go to America, or Australia, or the Indian 
Ocean, or the interior of Africa; but even in all these 
])lacc8, according to the correspondence of the Propaganda, 
lio would find Roman priests and active priests. He felt 
himself a lost man ; not free from faults in this matter, 
but punished beyond his errors. But this is the fate of 
men who think they can struggle successfully with a 
supernatural power. 

A servant opened a door and said in a loud voice, that, 
with his permission, his Eminence, the English Cardinal, 
would wait on him. 



CHAPTER LXVUl. 



It is proverbial to what drowning men will cling. Lothair, 
in his utter hopelessness, made a distinction between the 
Cardinal and the conspirators. The Cardinal had beeu 
absent from Rome during the greater portion of the resi- 
dence of Lothair in that city. The Cardinal was his 
&ther*s friend, an English gentleman, with an English 



LOT HAIR. 



361 



tdncction, once an Anglican, a man of the world, a man i)f 

', ft good, kind-hearted man, Lotli^r explained the 

apparent and occasional co-operation of bis Eminosce with 

the otbera, by their making nse of him without a duo 

. conscioosncsa of Ihtir purpose on his port. Lothatr re- 

^nmerobcred bow delicately bis former guardian bod alwaj^ 

^■reated the subject of religion in their coavcrsatioiiB, The 

^■Huionacement of bia visit instead of aggravating the dis- 

^^*P8BPS of Lothnir, secmfd, as all these conaiderationa 

rapidly occurred to him, almost to impurt. a my of hope. 

' I sec,' aatd the Cardinal, as be entered serene and 

rBcefal as nsual, and glancing at the table, * that you 

lave been reading the account of oar great act of yes- 

rday.' 

' Tea ; and I have been reading it,' said Lotbair reddon- 
, 'with indigaatioa ; with alarm; I aboold add, with 

1 this p ' said the Cardinal, feeling or affecting 

*It is a tiflsue of falsehood and impostnro,' oontinned 
' and I will take care tbat my opinion ia known 

'Do nothing rashly,' said the Cardinal. * Thia ia an 

icial jonmal, and I have reason to believe that nothing 
kppeara in it which is not drawn op, or well coneidorecl, by 
truly pious men.' 

' YoQ yonrself, sir, ranst know,' continnpd Lothair, ' that 
the whole of this statement is founded on falsehood ' 

' Indeed I should be sorry to believe,' said the Cardinal, 
'that there was a particle of misstatement, or even 
BXDggeration, either in the base or the auperetructare of 
the narrative.' 

'Good God!" eiclairaed Lothair, 'Why! take the 

first allegation, that I fell at Mentana Gghting in the 

ranks of the Holy Father. Every one knows that I fell 






362 LOTH AIR. 



tigliting against tiim, and th&t I was almost alain by one d 
his chassepots. It is notorious ; and though, as a matter 
of taste, I havo not obtmded the fact in the society in 
which I have been recently living, I have never attempted 
to conceal it, and have not the slightest donbt that it mutt 
be as familiar to every member of that society as to your 
Eniifienee.* 

* I know there are two narratives of yoar relations with 
the battle of Montana,* observed the Cardinal qnietlj. 
' The one accepted as authentic is that which appears in 
this journal ; the other account, which can only be traced 
to yourself, bears no doubt a somewhat different character: 
but considering that it is in the highest degree improbable 
and that there is not a tittle of confirmatory or collateral 
evidence to extenuate its absolute unlikelihood, I hardly 
think you are justified in using, with reference to the 
statement in this article, the harsh expression wliich I am 
[lersuaded, on reflection, you will feel you have hastily 
used.' 

* I think,' said Lothair with a kindling eye and a burning 
cheek, * that I am the best judge of what I did at Men- 
tana.' 

* Well, well,' said the Cardinal with dule<»t ealmnef^s, 
'yon naturally think so; but you must remember you 
have been very ill, my dear young friend, and labourinj^ 
under much excitement. If I were you, and I speak as 
your friend, I hope your best one, I would not dwell too 
much on this fancy of youi-s about the battle of Mentana. 
1 would myself always deal tenderly ^-ith a fixed idea: 
harsh attempts to terminate hallucination are seldom suc- 
cessful. Nevertheless, in the case of a public event, a 
matter of fact, if a man finds that he is of one opinion and 
all orders of society of another, he should not be encouraged 
to dwell on a perverted view; he should be gradually 
weaned from it.' 



' Yon unazc tub 1 ' taid Lothair. 
• Not at all,' said the CnrdiDal. 



) jon will 



3ne6t bj my odrice. And yon uuat already perceive 



irld without 
> be the just 



that, assuming the interpretation which the 
exception plapoB on jour conduct in the field t 
one, there really is not a i>i»(;le circumstance ii 
of this interestinp and importai 
of which yon yonrsolf would for a luoment dispnt*.' 

' What ia there said about me at MentHoa makoa me 
'fall the rest,' said Lothair. 

' Well, wo will not dwell on Mentana," eaid tbe Cardinal 
^th a sweet smile ; ' I have treated of that point. Your 
I by DO means an QDconimon one. It w^ll wear uti 
^th retut^io^ health. King Oeorgu IV. believed that he 
was at tbe battle of Waterloo, and indeed commaDdud 
there; and his friends were at one time a little alarmed; 
but Knighton, who wa^ a sensible man, saiil, " Ilia Alajesty 
bas only U> leave off Cura9oa, and rest aBsnrcd he will gain 
no more victiiriea." The rest of this Bialcment, which ia 
to-day oHicially comtnunicatod to tbe whole world, and 
which in its rcsnlis will probably be not lens important 
eren Uian tbe celebration of the Cent«nary of St. Peter, ia 
estRblisbed by evidence so incontestable, by nitneabea w 
nnmerouti, bo varions, in all tbe circumstances and acci- 
dents of i«stiniaDy bo satisfactory, 1 may say so irrctistible, 
that controversy on this bead would be a mere impciii- 



111.1 « 

L M am i,ot coni-inti'd,' said Lothair. 
^b ' Husb ! ' said tbe Cardinal, 'the freaks 
^Bnind about personal incidents, however la 
^klie viewed with indalgonce, at least tor a ti 
' cannot be permitted to doubt of tbe i«Rt. 
Donvinoed, and on rcBection you will ba ix 
niroiber, air, wliers you are. You are in 



I nmiiDer, air, v 
^Ujbriatcndom, * 



of yocr own 
■lentable, may 
Die. But you 
Yon moat he 
nrinccd. Ra. 
the centre of 






e alone tmih residua 




spoken to them, they answered that she had said, ''Let 
these flowers be kept in remembrance of me ; thej will 
never fiule.'* And truly, though months had elapsed, these 
flowers had never faded, and, after the procession of jester- 
day, they were placed under crystal in the chapel of the 
Blessed Virgin in the Jesuit church of St. George of 
Cappadocia, and may be seen every day, and will be seen 
for ever in primeval freshness. 

' This is the truthful account of what really occurred 
^th respect to tbis memorable event, and as it was asoer- 
Uiined by a Consulta of the Holy Office, presided over by 
the Cardinal Prefect himself. The Holy Office is most 
severe in its inquisition of the truth, and though it well 
knows that the Divine presence never leaves His Church, 
it is most Bcrupulous in its investigations whenever any 
miraculous interposition is alleged. It was entirely by its 
exertions that the somewhat inconsistent and unsatisfactory 
evidence of the porter of the gate, in the first instance, was 
explained, cleared, and established; the whole chain of 
evidence worked out; all idle gossip and mere rumours 
rejected ; and the evidence obtained of above twenty wit- 
1 1 esses of all ranks of life, some of them members of the 
Iramed profession, ai^d others military officers of undoubted 
honour and vei'a(nty, who witnessed the first appearance of 
the stranger at the Pellegrini, and the undoubted fact of 
tlio halo playing round her temples. 

* The Consulta of the Holy Office could only draw one 
inference, sanctioned by the Holy Father himself, as to the 
chaiucter of the yiersonage who thus deigned to appear 
and interpose ; and no wonder that in the g^at function 
of yesterday, the eyes of all Rome were fixed upon Lothair 
as the most favoured of living men.' 

He himself now felt as one sinking into an unfathomable 
abyss. The despair came over him that involves a man 
engaged in a hopeless contest with a remorseless pov/er. 



Q his lire daring the tatit year passed ra^iliinglj ftcrosii liu 



He r 



I the wiles that had been t 



nplojed t 



B niuallod t 
o attend a fi 

flbscura nook of Loudon ; tlie same ngoticics hiid been em- 
ployed there ; then, as now. the influence of Clare Arundel 
bitd been iiitroilaccd to swtiy him when all others had 
ftiiled. Bulmunt had aiived him then. There was no 
Belmont now. The last W(inl» ..f Theodora mamiared in 
bis ear tike the awiul voice of s distant sea. Tliey were thl 
diapason of all the thought and feeling of tliat profound 
and passionnte spirit. 

That seoDiod only a petty plot in London, and he had 
eiiice sometimes srailed when lie roniembored bow it had 
boon bnlHcd. Shallow apprehension ! The petty plot was 
only part of a gi-eat and unceasing and trininphatit con- 
piracy, and the obscure and inferior agencies which be 
;ride had consammated their 
mmanded pnrpoae in the eyes of all fclurope, and with 
aid of the great powers of the world. 
I He felt all the indignatien natural to a sincere and bigli- 
Ipirited man, who finds that be has been befooled by those 
prbom he has trasted ; but snomioniDg all his powers U> 
s desolate dilemma, he fonnd him- 
if witbunt resonree. What public declaration on liis part 
nld alter tJie undeniable fact, now circulating throughout 
:irld, tbat in the supematanil scene of yeHtcrUay 
I the willing Bud the principal actor? Uuquestion. 
ibly he liad been very imprudent, not only in that instance 
n bis hnbiliia) visits to the chorcb ; he felt all that 
But he WHS torn and shattered, infinitely distressed 
a body and in mind ; weak and uiiiterahlu ; and he 
mglit he was leaning on angelic bearts, when he found 
lelf in tlie embrace cif Ajiirits of another epbera. 
; In what a ]«)sition of uiieiampted pain did he not now 
L hixn.-K'if I To I'eu'l it your duty to quit the faith in 



36o LOTH AIR. 



which you have been bred must involve an awfnl paagi 
but to be a renegade withont the consolation of consciencei 
ag^nst yoor sense, against your will, alike for no celeBtial 
hope and no earthly object, this was agony mixed with 
self- contempt. 

He remembered what Lady CJorisande had once said to 
him about those who quitted their native church for the 
Roman communion. What would she say now P He 
marked in imagination the cloud of sorrow on her imperial 
brow and the scorn of her curled lip. 

Whatever happened he could never return to England^ 
at least for many years, when all the things and persons he 
cared for would have disappeared, or changed, which li 
worse; and then what would be the use of returning? 
He would go to America, or Australia, or the Indian 
Ocean, or the interior of Africa; but even in all these 
])lacc8, according to the correspondence of the Propaganda, 
he would find Roman priests and active priests. He felt 
himself a lost man ; not free fi'om faults in this matter, 
but punished beyond his errors. But this is the fate of 
men who think they can struggle successfully with a 
supernatural power. 

A servant opened a door and said in a loud voice, that, 
with his permission, his Eminence, the English Cardinal, 
would wait on him. 



CHAPTER LXVm. 



It is proverbial to what drowning men will cling. Lothair, 
in his utter hopelessness, made a distinction between the 
Cardinal and the conspirators. The Cardinal had beeu 
absent from Rome during the greater portion of the resi- 
dence of Lothair in that city. The Cardinal was his 
Other's friend, an English gentleman, with an English 



LOTHAJR. 361 

Rlnoatioii, ODce bd AnglicaD, a mau of the world, a ina,D of 

inoai', a good, kind-hearted man. Lothair explained tha 

apparent and occasional co-operation of hia Eminence with 

the others, bj their making use of him without a duQ 

consciousnuss of their puqiose on his part. Lothair re. 

Mmbered boiv delicately his former gnardian hod alwaya 

Mt«d the Bubject of religion in their converBationa. The 

moancemcnt of bis visit instead of aggravating the dis- 

I of Lothair, seemed, as ail these considerfttiona 

fetpidlj occnrrcd to him, almost to impart a ray of hope, 

' Baid the Cardinal, aa he entered serene aoil 
racefnl as osual, and glancing at the table, 'that you 
) been reading the account of our great act of yea- 
iay.' 

' Yes ; and I have been reading it,' said Lotbair redden- 
' with indignation ; with alarm ; I should add, with 
bgnst." 
'How is this?' said the Cardinal, feeling or afieoting 

' It is a tissDB of falsehood and impostnre,' continned 
liothair ; ' and t will take care that my opinion is knowu 
fit." 

nothing rashly,' aaid the Cardinal. ' This is an 
journal, and I have reason t^ believe that nothing 
■■•ppears in it which is not drawn up, or well considered, by 
truly pious men.' 

'You yourself, sir, must know,' continned Lothair, ' that 
_Uie whole of this statement is founded on falsehood ' 

' Indeed I should be sorry to believe,' said the Cardinal, 
particle of misstfitemont, ur eren 
taggemtion, either in the base or the supers tructure of 
e narrative.' 

God!' exclaimed Lothair. 'Why I take the 
J first allegation, that I fell at Mentana fighting in the 
ks of the Holy Fattier. Evecr one knows that I fell 




368 LOTH AIR. 



Drew on the day, and everj hoar it seemed his spint 
was more lone and dark. For the first time the thought 
of death occorred to him as a relief from the perplexilies 
of existence. How mnch better had he died at Montana ! 
To this pass had arrived the cordial and brilliant Lord of 
Mariel, who enjoyed and adorned life, and wished others 
to adorn and to enjoy it ; the individaal whom, probably, 
were the majority of the English people polled, they would 
have fixed upon as filling the most enviable of all positions, 
and holding ont a hope that he was not unworthy of it. 
Bom with every advantage that could conmiand the 83rm- 
pathies of his fellow-men, with a quick intelligence and a 
noble disposition, here he was at one-and-twenty ready to 
welcome death, perhaps even to devise it, as the only rescue 
from a doom of confusion, degradation, and remorse. 

He had thrown himself on a sofa, and had buried liia 
face in his hands to assist the abstraction whicli he de- 
manded. There was not an incident of his life that es- 
caped the painful inquisition of his memory. He passed 
his childhood once more in that stem Scotch home, that, 
after all, had been so kind, and, as it would seem, so wise. 
The last words of counsel and of warning from his uncle, 
expressed at Muriel, came back to him. And yet there 
seemed a destiny throughout these transactions which was 
irresistible ! The last words of Theodora, her look, even 
more solemn than her tone, might have been breathed 
over a tripod, for they were a prophecy, not a warning. 

How long he had been absorbed in this passionate 
reverie he knew not, but when he looked up again it was 
night, and the moon had touched his window. He rose 
and walked up and down the room, and then went into 
the corridor. All was silent ; not an attendant was visible ; 
the sky was clear and starry, and the moonlight fell on the 
tall, still cypresses in the vast quadrangle. 

Lothuir leant over the balustrade and gazed upon the 



LOTH AIR. 



369 



moonlit fboutuna. The change of scene, silont md yet 
aoi ToicdoBs, and the aofl«riing spell of the tranqaillising 
bonr were a relief to Liru. And &fler a time he mandered 
aboal the corridors, and afl«r a time lio descended into tha 
mart. The tall Swiss, in his grand tutiform, nan closin)^ 
ihe gatca nUich had jnst released a visitor. Lothair mo- 
tioned that he too wished to go forth, and the Swiss obeyed 
him. The threshold was paj^scd, and Lothair fonnd him- 
self for the first lime alone in Rome. 

Utter!}' reck:les.i he cored not where he went or what 
might happen. Tlio streets were quite deserted, and he 
wandered about with a strange cnrioeity, gralified aa he 
•ometimea enconntered famons objects he had read of, and 
p>t the tme character of which no reading ever realises. 

"The moonlight becomes the proad palaces of Rome, 
their corniced and balconied fronts rich with deep shadows 
in the blaze. Sometimes he enconntered an imperial 
colninn ; sometimes he came to an arcadian Bqnaro Qooded 
wiib light and resonant with the fall of statned fotintaine. 
Emerging from a long Etrag^ling street of convents and 
pardens, he fonnd himself in an open apace fall of antiqaa 
mins, and among them the form of a colossal amphi- 
theatre that he at once recognised. 

It rose with its three tiers of arches and tlic httge wall that 
crowns them, black and complete in the air; and not until 
Lothair liad entered it coaid be perceive the portion of the 
ODter nil that was in mins, and now bathed with the 
nlrer light. Lothair was alone. In that hage creation, 
once echoing with the ahonta, and even the agouies, of 
thotuands, Lothair was alone. 

He sate him down on a block of stone in thac snbluuo 
waA desolate arena, and a^ked himself the secret spell of 
tliia Rome that had already so agitated his yonng life, and 
probably was aboot critically to affect it Theodora lived 
tar Borne and died for Kome. And the Carding bom and 



370 LOTH AIR. 



breri an English gentleman, with many hopes and hononn, 
bed renonnced his religion, and, it might be said, bifl 
oonntrj, for Rome. And for Rome, to-morrow, Gatesby 
icon Id die withont a pang, and saorifice himself for Rome^ 
as his race for three handred years had gpven, for the same 
canse, hononr and broad estates and unhesitating Uvea. 
And these very people were influenced by different mo- 
tives, and thought they were devoting themselves to oppo- 
site ends. But still it was Rome : Republican or Caasarian, 
papal or pagan, it still was Rome. 

Was it a breeze in a breezeless night that was sighing 
amid these ruins ? A pine tree moved its head on a 
broken arch, and there was a stir among the plants that 
hung on the ancient walls. It was a breeze in a breezeless 
night that was sighing amid the ruins. 

There was a tall crag of ancient building contiguous to 
the block on which Lothair was seated, and which on his 
arrival he had noted, although, long lost in reverie, he had 
not recently turned his glance in that direction. He was 
roused from that reverie by the indefinite sense of some 
change hn\nng occurred which often disturbs and termi- 
nates one's brooding thoughts. And looking round, he 
felt, he saw, he was no longer alone. The moonbeams fell 
upon a figure that was observing him from the crag of ruin 
that was near, and as the light clustered and gathered round 
the form, it became every moment more definite and distinct. 

Lothair would have sprung forward, but he could only 
extend his arms : he would have spoken, but his tongue 
was paralysed. 

' Lothair,' said a deep, sweet voice that never could be 
foi'gotten. 

* I am here,' he at last rep'ied. 

'Remember!' and she thi*ew upon him that glance, at 
once serene and solemn* that had been her last, and was 
improssed indelibly upon bis heart of hearts. 




THET have overdone it, Gortrudo, with Lotliair,' etiid 
jord St. Jerome to his wife, ' I spoke to Wonsignore 
Cntesby about it some t!me ago, bnt he woald not listen to 
lue ; I bad more conlideiice in the Cardinal and am dieap- 
pointed ; but a priest ia ever too hot. His norvoos system 
has been tried too fiiQch.' 

Ladj St. Jerome still hoped the best, and believed in it, 
I prepared to accept the way Lotliair was fonnil 
9 in the Colbeum as a continuance of miraoolons 
terpositions. He might have remained there for a da; 
f days and never have been recognised when discovered. 
marvellously providential that Father Coleman 
nlil Lave been in the vicinity and tempted to visit tbe 
n that very nigbt ! 
I Lord St. Jerome was devout, and eauj in his temper. 
Bsts and women seemed to huvo uo difficulty in ma- 
m. But he was an Enghsh gentleman, and there 
was at tbe bottom of his character a fund of courage, firm- 
nesa, and common sense, that sometimes startled and 
sometimes pcrpleied those who assumed that be could be 
easily controlled. He was not satisfied with the condition 
of Lothair, ' a peer of England and my connection ;' and he 
haxd not unlimited conddenco in those wUo had been 
hitherto consnltcd as to bis state. There waa a celebrated 
Gaghijh physician at that time visiting Borne, and Lord 



372 LOTH AIR. 



St Jerome, notwithstanding tho multiform resistanoe of 
Monsignore Catesby, insisted ho shonld be called in to 
Lothair. 

The English physician was one of those men who abhor 
priests, and do not particularly admire ladies. The Utter, 
in revenge, denounced his manners as brutal, though they 
always sent for him, and were always trying, though 
vainly, to pique him into sympathy. He rarely spoke, but 
he listened to everyone with entire patience. He some- 
times asked a question, but he never made a remark. 

Lord St. Jerome had seen the physician alone before he 
visited the Palazzo Agostini, and had talked to him freely 
about Lothair. The physician saw at once that Lord St. 
Jerome was truthful, and that though his intelligence 
might be limited, it was pure and direct. Appreciating 
Ix)rd St. Jerome, that nobleman found the redoubtable 
doctor not ungenial, and assured his wife that she would 
meet on the morrow by no means so savage a being as she 
anticipated. She received him accordingly, and in the 
presence of Monsignore Catesby. Never had she exercised 
her distinguished powers of social rhetoric with more art 
and fervour, and never apparently had they proved less 
productive of the intended consequences. Tho physician 
said not a word, and merely bowed when exhausted nature 
consigned the luminous and impassioned Lady St. Jerome 
to inevitable silence. Monsignore Catesby felt he was 
bound in honour to make some diversion in her favour; 
repeat some of her unanswered inquiries, and reiterate 
some of her unnoticed views ; but the only return he received 
was silence without a bow, and then the physician re- 
marked, ' I presume I can now see the patient.' 

The English physician was alone with Lothair for some 
time, and then he met in consultation the usual attendants. 
The result of all these proceedings was that he returned to 
the saloon, in which he found Lord and Lady St. Jerome, 



I 

[ 



p 

R" 



LOTHAIR. 373 

KonsigTiDre Catcabj, and Father Culuuian, anJ he then said, 
' My opinion is that his Lortlaliip ahonld qnit Rome imnie- 
diattily, nod 1 think he Lad better rctnra nt onee to hi.t ovm 
ooontty.' 

All the efforts of the Kiigliah Propaganda were now 
directed to prevent the retnm of Lothair to his own country. 
The Cardinal and Lady St. Jerome, and the Monsignore, 
BTid Father Coleman, all the beantifnl joang couutessoa 
who had ' gone over ' to Rome, and all the epiriled yoang 
(-aria who had come over to bring their wives back, bnt 
liiid iinfortnnat«!y rcmaintil themselves. looked very serions, 
and spoke mach in whispers. Lord St. Jerome waa firm 
Lothair should inimediately leave the city, and find 
tt change of scene and air which were declared by 
ithority to lie in d is [>cn liable for his health, both of mind 
id body. But his return to England, at this moment, 
•ma an aiTair of serious dilTiculty. He conld not return un- 
attended, and attended too hy soma iutimato and devoted 
friend. BeaiiJos it waa very doubtful whulhcr Lothair had 
strength remaining to bear so great on exertion, and at such 
a season of the year ; and he seemed disinclined to it himselC 
He also wished to leave Rome, bnt he wished also in time 
tu extend his travels. Amidst these difficulties a Neapolitan 
duke, a great friend of Monsignore Cateshy, a gentleman 
who always had a friend in need, offered to the young 
Bn^^lish noble, the interesting young Englishman so 
favonred by heaven, the use of his villa on the coast of 
the remotest part of Sicily, near Sjracnse. Here was a 
Bolation of many difficulties: departure from Rome, change 
of scene and air (sea air, too, partiouhirly recommended), 
and almost the same ae a return to England, without an 
eflbrt i for waa it not an island, only with a better climate, 
and a people with free institutions, or a taste for them, 
which is the same ? 

hich Lndy St. Jerome and Monsignore 



^m The mode 



37^ LOTHAIR. 

Catesby coDsulted Lord St. Jerome on tlie sml^ect, took Ike 
adroit but insidious rorm of eongnitu luting him on the 
entire «uid unexpected fulfilment of his purpose, ' Are *e 
not foiiunnt«?' exclaimed her Lailfship, looting np 
brigbtlj in hla face, and gently pressing one of liLi arms. 

•Ejftctly eperything yoar Lordship required,* echoed 
Alonsignore Catebby, L-ongi&tulating him by pnssang tlie 

The Cardiniil baIiI to I^rd St. Jerome in tbo oomMof 
the morning, in an eiisy nay, and as if he were Dot tUnlb 
ing too mnch of ibu matter, ' So yon have gut oitt of ■! 
yonr difficulties.' 

Iiord St. Jci-ume vraanot entirely mtisfied, but be tltonglit 
he liiid dciue a ^ruat deal, and, to say the trath, tbe effort 
for him hiid not bfco in considerable ; and so the result wm 
that Lolliair, accompanied by Monsignore Catosby and 
Tather Coleman, ti-arelled by cany stages, and chiefly on 
lioreuback, thruitgh a delicious and romantic conntry, which 
alone did Lnthair a grcRit deal of gnod, lo the coR&t; croeaed 
itx? struitx on a serene artcrnoon, visitird Mcssin* Binl 
I'ltlcrmu, luid filially settled at their point of dtstinat 
I he Villa CaUhiuo. 

Nothing could be more satisfactory tbftn thoMonstgt 
bulletin, annoDnciiig to hia friends at Bome tbel 
arrangements. Three necks* travel, air, horse exercise, t} 
inspiration of tbe landscnpo and the clime, hnd wonderfully 
restored Lothair, and tbey might entirely count on bia p*«- 
ing Holy Week at Homo, when all tbey bul hoped and 
prayed for would, liy the blessing of (lio HoTy Virgin, be 
ferCoomplLsbod. 



jin« Binl 
itinatiia^^ 

"inw^H 
ultin^H 

rcise, tbtt I 
nderfully I 

hiapAKO- I 



CHAPTER I-XXI. 

Thi tfliTsra of tho Villa Catiilnno, with its orange anJ j^l.ii 
trees, looked npon & eea of lapis lazali, and ruse from e. 
Bbelving shore of aloes and arbutus. The waters reflected 
ilio ctiloar of the sky, and all the foliage was bedewed with 
the Enme -violet light of taom which bathed the soflnoss nf 
the dist&iit mouutainB, and the undulating beautj of the 
OTer-varpng coast. 

^ Loth&ir was walking on the terrace, his favomite walk, 
r it was the only occasion on which he ever fonnd himself 
Kot thnt he liHd any reafion to compluin of his 
mpaniona. Klore complete ones could scarcely be selected, 
ravel, which they say tries all tempers, had only proved 
fi engaging equanimity of Cat«8by, and had never dio- 
frbed the amiable TupoBO of his brother priest; and thoa 
BO entonnitiiiig and bo instructive, aa well as handy 
d experienced in all common things. The Moosignore 
iut;h tiLsle and locliug and various knowledge ; and 
I for the reverend Father, all the antiquaries they dally 
90ii]il«red were mere children in his hands who, without 
t, could explain and illustrate every aceuo and object, 
d Bpoko as if he hod never given a thought to any other 
me lltati Sieily and Symtiise, the expedition nf Niciaa 
I the adventures of Agalhoclfs. And yet daring all 
r travels Lothwr felt that he never was alone. This 
I remarkable at tho great cities such aa Messina and 
o, but it was a prevalent habit in less frequented 
There wag a petty town neiir thom, which he had 
prer visited alone, although he hud made more tliun one 
mpt with that view ; and it was only on the terraco in 
early mom, a spot whenee he eonid bo obHerved frnni llie 



376 LOTHAIR. 



TQIa, and which did not easily communicate with the pre- 
cipitons and sniroonding scenery, that Lothair would in- 
dulge that habit of introspection which he had parsoed 
through many a long ride, and which to him was a never- 
failing source of interest and even excitement. 

He wanted to aRcertain the causes of what he deemed 
the faUure of his life, and of the dangers and disoomfitaw 
that were still impending oyer him. Were these causes to 
be found in any peculiarity of his disposition, or in the 
general inexperience and incompetence of youth P Tbe 
latter he was now quite willing to believe would lead their 
possessors into any amount of disaster, but his ingenuous 
nature hesitated before it accepted them as the self-com- 
placent solution of his present deplorable position. 

Of a nature profound and inquisitive, though with a 
great fund of reverence which had been developed by an 
ecclesiastical education, Lothair now felt that he had started 
in life with an extravagant appreciation of the influence of 
the religious principle on the conduct of human affairs. 
With him, when heaven was so nigh, earth could not be 
remembered ; and yet experience showed that, so long as 
one was on the earth, the incidents of this planet consider- 
ably controlled one's existence, both in behaviour and in 
thought. All the world could not retire to Mount Athos. 
It was clear, therefore, that there was a juster conception 
of the relations between religion and life than that which 
he had at first adopted. 

Practically, Theodora had led or was leading him to this 
result ; but Theodora, though religious, did not bow before 
those altars to which he for a moment had never been 
faithless. Theodora believed in her immortality, and did 
not believe in death according to the ecclesiastical interpret 
tation. But her departure from the scene, and the circum- 
stances under which it had taken place, had unexpectedly 
and violently restored the course of his life to its old bent. 



LOTH AIR. 



377 



SbKtterotl aJid Blioro, he waa willing to beltoye that bo was 
agkm entering tbe kingdom of hoaTen, but fomid be waa 

oalj DudeF the gilded dome of a Jesuit's (;biirch, and woke 
U> reality, from a scene of mngitmt decuptioDa, with & eod 
conviction that even cardinnla and fathers of the Church 
were inevitably influenced iu tbia life by its interests and 

But the incident of his life that most occupied, it might 
be said engrossed, his meditation was the midnight appari- 
tion in the Colisenin. Making every allowance that a 
tmndid nature and an ingenious niind could suggest for 
explicatory cirtumslanccs ; the tension of bis nervous sys- 
tem, which waa tbon donbclcss strained to its last points 
the memory of her dealli-scene, VFhich always harrowed 
and buuntcd him ; and that dark oollision between bis 
promise and his life which then, after bo many efforts, 
appeared by Bomo supernatural ordination to be about 
iiievilably to occur in that very Rome wiioso gigantio 
shades surrounded him ; he still could not resist the con- 
riction that ho had seen the form of Theodora and had 
listened fa her voice. Often the whole day when thoy 
Wtire travelling, and his companions watched liim on hia 
saddle in silent thought, bis mind in reahty was fixed un 
Ihia aiiigle incident, and lie was crosa-enamining bis mo- 
adroit and ruthlt'sa advocate deals with the 
less in the box, and tries to demonstrate bis infidelity 



^Khis 
^1 Bni 



' But whether it were indeed the apparition of bis adored 
friend or a. distempered dream, Lotliair not less recognised 
the warning as divine, and the only conviction be had 
arrived at throughout bis Sicilian traveln was a determina< 
tion that, however tragical the cost, his pi-ontise to Theo- 
dora should never be broken. 

The boaatiful terrace of the Villa Catalano overlooked n 
^^BD&ll bay to which it dcsccndi-'d by winding walks. Ths 



I 378 LOTHAIR. 



water was deep, and in any other country ilie bay migfai 
have been tnmed to good aooountt but bays abounded on 
this coast, and the people, with many harbours, had no 
freights to occupy them. This mom, this violet mom, 
when the balm of the soft breeze refreshed Lothair, and tha 
splendour of the rising sun began to throw a flashing line 
upon the azure waters, a few fishermen in one of tbe 
country boats happened to come in, about to dry a net 
upon a sunny bank. The boat was what is called a spero- 
naro ; an open boat worked with oars, but with a lateen 
sail at the same time when the breeze served. 

Lothair admired the trim of the vessel, and got talking 
with the men as they eat their bread and olives, and a 
small fish or two. 

* And your lateen sail ? ' continued Lothair. 

' Is the host thing in the world, except in a white squall,' 
replied tlio sailor, ' and then everything is queer in these 
seas with an open boat, though I am not afraid of Santa 
AsTiese, aud that is her name. But I took two English 
officers who came over here for sport, and whose leave 
of absence was out ; I took them over in her to ^falta, 
and did it in ten hours. I believe it had never been done 
in an open boat before, but it was neck or nothing with 
them.' 

* And you saved them ? * 

* With the lateen uj) the whole way.' 

* They owed you much, aud 1 hope they paid you welL' 

* I asked them ten ducats,' said the man, ' and they paid 
me ten ducats.' 

Lothair had his hand in his pocket all this time, feeling, 
bat imperceptibly, for his purse, and when ho had found it, 
feeling how it was lined. He generaUy carried about him 
as much as Fortunatus. 

* What are you going to do with yourselves this morn- 
ing ? ' said Lothair. 



LOTH AIR. 379 

'Well, not iDDch; we thonpht of throwing Ihc not, hot 
D hhv9 had ODO dip, and no grL'ab lni:k.' 
f * Are yon inclined to give me a sail Y ' 
•Cortainly, sigiior.' 
' Huve you a mind to go to Malta ? ' 
* Tliat is bnsipL-as, m'guar.' 

'Look hcni,' wvid Lothair, Micro arc ten diicnta in tliia 

3, and a litllu more. ] will givo thera to yon if yon 

me to Malta at once, but if yon will aliirt in a 

llindrud seconds, before tbe snn touclieR tbat ruck, and the 

Parea just beyond it are alrejidy bright, yon slinll liave Inn 

e dui'uta when yoa reach the iale.' 

' Step in, signor.' 

From the nature of the cooree, wlilch was not in the direc< 
>i) of the open sea, fur they hai! to double Cupu Passaro, the 
^peronaro waa out of night of the Tilla in a fuw minntea 
They rowed ouly till they had doubled the rupe, aud then 
I set the lateen flail, thu breeze being light but steady and 
■hvonmble. They were aoon in open Ecu, no laud in sight, 
^H^iid if a white B<|nall does i-itic,' thought Lothuir, *it will 
^pbly settle many tlitUculties.' 

^^ But uo white squall came; everytbing waa favourable to 
iboir progress : the wind, tlie ccrrenl, the conrn^ aud 
spirit of (he men, who liked the advisutnre and liked 
jDthair, Kight came on, but they woi'u as tender to him 
■ wnmeu, fed him with their least coarse food, and cohered 
1 witb a cloak mjule of stuU' spun by their motliors and 
r sisters. 
I Lothair vena slumbering when the patron of the boat 
nased him, and he saw at Ixuid many lights, and in a few 
biuules was in still walor. They were in one of the 
krboni'H of Maltn, but not perruitl^'d lo land at miJnight, 
1 when the mom arrived, the obstacles to the relcano of 
Dthair were uot easily removed. A spcroiiaro, an opeu 
t from Sicily, of coui-su with no ]>iipi']-M to prove their 



38o LOTH AIR. 



point of dopartui'o: h0i*e were materlalfl for doubt and 
diffioalty, of which the petty offir^n of the port knew how 
to avail themselves. They might oome from Barbaiy, from 
an infected port ; plague might be aboard, a qneetion of 
quarantine. Lothair observed that they were nearly along* 
side of a fine steam yacht, English, for it bore the cross of 
St. George, and while on the quay, he and the patron of 
the speronaro arguing with the officers of the port^ a 
gentleman from the yacht put ashore in a boat^ of which 
the bright equipment inmicdiately attracted attention. The 
gentleman landed almost close to the point whore the 
controversy was carrying on. The excited manner and 
voice of the Sicilian mariner could not escape notice. Tho 
gentleman stopped and looked at the group, and then sud* 
denly exclaimed, * Good heavens ! my Lord, can it be you ? ' 

* Ah ! Mr. Phoebus, you will help me,' said Lothair, and 
then he went up to him and told him everything. All 
difHculties of course vanished before the presence of 
Mr. Phoebus, whom the officers of the port evidently looked 
upon as a being beyond criticism and control. 

* And now/ said Mr. Phoobus, * about your people and 
your baggage.' 

* I have neither servants nor clothes,' said Lothair, * and 
if it hJEMl not been for these good people, I should not have 
had food.' 



CHAPTER LXXn. 



Mr. Ph(£BCS in his steam-yacht Pan, of considerable ad- 
measurement and fitted up with every luxury and con- 
venience that science and experience could suggest, was on 
his way to an island which he occasionally inhabited, near 
the Asian coast of the ^gean Sea, and which he rented 
fcom the chief of his wife's house, the Prince of Samoa. 



LOTHAIR. 381 

Phteboe, by lus genius and fume, cotumandcd a large 

and he spent it freely and fully. There was no- 

r which he more diBapproved thsii accumnlfttion, 

was a practice which led to sordid habits and wns fatal 

the beantifiil. On the whole, he ttiought it more odlons 

than debt, more pennanontly degrading. Mr. Phcabna 

liked pomp and graccfdl ceremony, and he was of opinion 

that great artists sboatd Ii^ad a princely life, bo that in 

llbeir mannera and method of existenco they might fomiBh 

lels to mankind in general, and elevate tlio tone and 

ite of nations. 

Sometimes when he obserscd a fi-icnd noticing with ad- 
tniiatioQ, perhaps with astomsbnient, the splendonr or 
finish of his equipments, he would Bay, ' The world thiuks 
I had alargefortune with Madame Phcehna. I had noil ling. 
I understand that a fortune, and no inconsiderable one, 
would have boon given, had I chosen to aak for it. But I 
did not choose to ask for it. I made Madame Phoebus my 
wife because she was the finest specimen of the Aryan race 
that I waa acquainted with, and I would bare no conaidero- 
tiona mixed up with the high motive that inSueneed me. 
ly falher-jn-law Cantacazene, whether from a feeling of 
ktitnde or remorse, is always making us munificent 
I like to receive magnificent presents, but also 
to make them ; and I presented him with a picture wbicb 
ia the gom of bis gallery, and which, if he over part with 
it, will in another generation bo contended for by kings and 
peoples. 

' On her last birthday wo breakfasted with my fatbor-in- 
law CantacuEene, and Madame Pbcebna found in Lor 
napkin a cheque for five tbousand pounds, I expended 
it immediately in jewels for her pergonal nse ; for I 
wished my father-in-law to nnderatand that tliore are othai 
.princely families in the world besides the Cantaeuzence.' 
A friend once ventured cnqninugly to suggeat whether 



bona 

^fcat) 

^rest 



^L A friend o 



382 LOTHAIR. 

his way of life might uot "be oondncive to envy and so (Hs- 
turb that serenity of sentiment necessary to the complete 
life of an artist. But Mr. Phcebos would not for a moment 
admit the soundness of the objection. ' No,' he eaid, ' envy 
is a purely intellectual process. Splendour never excites 
it : a man of splendour is looked upon always with fitvonr ; 
his appearance exhilarates the heart of man. He is always 
popular. People wish to dine with him, to borrow bis 
money, but they do not envy him. If you want to know 
what envy is you should live among artists. You should 
hear me lecture at the Academy. I have sometimes 
suddenly turned round and caught countenances like that 
of the man who was waiting at the comer of the street 
for Bcnvenuto Cellini, in order to assassinate the great 
Florentine.* 

It was impossible for Lotliair in his present condition to 
have fallen upon a more suitable companion than Mr. 
Phcebus. It is not merely change of scene and air that we 
sometimes want, but a revolution in the atmosphere of 
thought and feeling in which we live and breathe. Besides 
iiis great intelligence and fancy, and his peculiar views on 
art and man and afiairs in general, which always interested 
their hearer and sometimes convinced, there waa a general 
vivacity in Mr. Phoebus and a vigorous sense of life which 
were inspiriting to his companions. ^Vllen there was anj- 
tliing to bo done, great or small, Mr. Phoebus liked to do 
it ; and this, as he averred, from a sense of duty, since, if 
anything is to be done, it should be done in the best manner, 
and no one could do it so well as Mr. Phoobus. He always 
acted as if he had been created to be the oracle and model 
of the human race, but the oracle was never pompous or 
solemn, and the model was always beaming with good 
nature and high spirits. 

Mr. Phoebus liked Lothair. He liked youth, and good- 
looking youth ; and youth that was intelb'gent and engafi^ing 



LOTH AIR. 



3S3 



and irell-maimered. He also liked old men. Bat between 
liltj and aevecty, be saw little to approve of in the dark 
OCX. They hod lost tlieir good looks if they ever had any, 
their wtta were on the wane, and they were invaridlily 
eelGsb. When they attained Bccond childhood the charm 
eXien returned. Aj^ was (reqncutly beantiful, wisdom 
appeared Uka an aftermath, and the hetiirt which «eemod 
dry and deadened suddenly pnt forth shoots of sj-m[ialhy. 

Mr. Phtebna postponed his voyage in order that Lothair 
might make his preparatiuus to become bis guest in his 
island. ' I cannot take you to a banker,' 8aid Mr. Pbcebaa, 
' for I have none ; but I wish you would share my parse. 
Nothing will ever indnoe ma to nae what they call paper 
money. It is the woKt thing that what they call civilisa- 
tion has produced ; neither hue nor shape, and yet a snb- 
Btitnte for the richest ooloui', and, where the arts flourish, 
the finest forms.' 

The telegraph which brought an order to the hankers at 

Uolta to give an unlimited credit to Lothair, rendered it 

unneoeAxary for our friend to share what Sir. Fhcebua 

called hi§ purse, and yet ho wjia glad to have the opportu* 

^^kty of BC«itig it, as Mr. Pb(Bbii3 ono morning opened a 

^^best in hia cabin and produced several velvet bags, one 

^BdD of peorla, another of rubieti, others of Venetian seqnins, 

Napoleons, and gulden piastres. ' I like to look nt them,' 

eaid Mr. Phoebus, ' and Bad life more intense when they 

are about my person. But bank notes, ho cold and thin, 

thojr give mo an ague.' 

Madame Phtehus and her sister Euphrosyne welcomed 
Lothair in maritime costumes which were absolutely be- 
witching ; wondrOQB jackets with loops of pearls, girdles 
defended by dirks with handles of turquoises, and tilted 
hats that, while they screened their long eyelashea fiom 
^the snn, crowned the loticer braids of their never-ending 
Mr. PhojbuB gave bimqueta every day on board his 



E 



384 LOTH AIR. 



jaohi, attonded by the chief personages of the iakad and 
tae most agreeable officers of the garrison. They dined 
upon deck, and it delighted him, with a snr&oe of sang-froid, 
to produce a repast which both in its material and its 
treatment was equal to the refined festivals of Paris. Some- 
times they had a dance ; sometimes in his barge, rowed by 
a crew in Venetian dresses, his guests ghded on the tran- 
quil waters, under a starry sky, and listened to the ex- 
quisite melodies of their hostess and her sister. 

At length the day of departure arrived. It was bright, 
with a breeze favourable to the sail and opportune for the 
occasion. For all the officers of the garrison and all 
beautiful Yaletta itself seemed present in their yachts and 
barges to pay their last tribute of admiration to the en- 
chanting sisters and the all-accomplished owner of the 

* Pan.' Placed on the gallery of his yacht, Mr. PhcDbas 
surveyed the brilliant and animated scene with delight. 

* This is the way to conduct life,' he said. * If, fortunately 
for them, I could have passed another month among these 
people, I could have developed a feeling equal to the old 
regattas of the Venetians.' 

The ^gean isle occupied by Mr. Phoebus was of no in- 
considerable dimensions. A chain of mountains of white 
marble intersected it, covered with forests of oak, though 
in parts precipitous and bare. The lowlands, while they 
produced some good crops of grain, and even cotton and 
silk, were chiefly clothed with fruit trees : orange and 
lemon, and the fig, the olive, and the vine. Sometimes 
the land was uncultivated, and was principally covered 
with myrtles of large size and oleanders and arbutus and 
thorny brooms. Here game abounded, while from the 
mountain forests the wolf sometimes descended and spoiled 
and scared the islanders. 

On the seashore, yet not too near the wave, and on a 
sylvan declivity, was a long pavilion-looking building. 



LOTHAIR. 383 

[Minted in white and axabrsque. It was luiekc'l by the 
forest, which had a ptirlC'likn character rrom U<s partial 
clearnnce, e-ad which, after a POSTonient slip of even land, 
nscoiided the steeper country and took the form of wooded 
liilla, hacked in dne time by attll nylvan yet loftier elevB.- 
tiunF'. and somctinies a glittering peak. 

' Welcome, my friend ! ' Mid Mr. Phoabna to Lothair. 
' Welcome to an Aryan clime, an Aryan landscape, and ar 

^^Aiyan rane. It wiU do yon good after your Semitic 

^fpllucin ations. ' 

" orinn' 



CHAPTER LXXm. 



PHiEBua pursued a life in bis island pnrtlyfeadal, partly 
oriental, partly Venetian, and partly idiosyncratic. He 
had a grand atndio whore ho could always find interesting 
occupation in di-awing eserj fine face and fonn in his 
dominions. Then he hunlf^l, and that -waa a remarkable 
scene. The ladies, looking like Diana or her Eymphs, were 
mounted on cream-coloured Anatolian chargers with golden 
bells ; while Mr. PhoibuB himself, in green velvet and 
eeven-Ieagued boots, sounded a wondrous twisted horn rife 
with all the inspiring or diret^ng notes of musical and 
learned venerie. His neighbours of condition cams 
mounted, but the field was by no means confined to cava- 
liers. A voflt crowd of men in small caps and jackets and 
lingo white breeches, and armed with all the weapons of 
Palikarl, bandjars and yatnghans and stiver shenlhed mns- 
kots of uncommon length and almost as old as tlio battle of 
jpanto, always rallied round his stanJard. The cquea- 
caracollod about the park, and the horns sounded 
the hounds bayed and the men shouted ItU tha deer 
all scudded away. Then, by degrees, the honiere 
forc.tt, and the nol«s of vcncrii> iKcame more 



3S6 LOTH AIR. 



fiiint and the shouts mora distant. Then for two or three 
hours all was silent, save the sound of an occasional shot 
or the note of a stray hound, until the human stragglers 
began to reappear emerging from the forest, and in dne 
time the great body of the hunt, and a g^ded cart dnwn 
by mules and carrying the prostrate forms of fallow deer 
and roebuck. None of the ceremonies of the chase were 
omitted, and the crowd dispersed, refreshed by Samian 
wine, which Mr. Phcebus was teaching them to make 
without resin, and w^hich they quafied with shrugging 
shoulders. 

' We must have a wolf-hunt for you,' said Euphrosyne 
to Lothair. ' You like excitement, I believe ? ' 

* Well, I am rather inclined for repose at present^ and I 
came here with the hope of obtaining it.* 

* We are never idle here ; in fact that would be impos- 
siblo with Oaston. He has established here an academy of 
the fine arts and also revived the gymnasia ; and my sister 
and myself have schools, only music and dancing ; Gaston 
does not approve of letters. The poor people have of 
course their primary schools with their priests, and Graston 
does not interfere with them, but he regrets their existence 
Ho looks upon reading and writing as very injurious to 
education.' 

Sometimes reposing on divans, the sisters received the 
chief persons of the isle, and regaled them with fruits and 
sweetmeats and cofTce and sherbets, while Gaston's chi- 
bouques and tobacco of Salonica were a proverb. These 
meetings always ended with dance and song, repletBi 
according to Mr. Phoebus, with studies of Aryan life. 

' I believe these islanders to be an unmixed race,' said 
Mr. Phojbus. * The same form and visage prevails 
tliroupjhout ; and very little changed in anything, even in 
their religion.' 

* Unchanged in tlieir religion ! ' said Lothair with some 
astonishment. 



LOTH AIR. 



387 



i yao. will find it so. Tbeir eziateDce is eitsy ; 
r w&DtB are not great, and their meknn of subsistence 

nliful. They \A%& much of tlieir life in what ia calkii 
aliment: and what is it ? They raako parties of plea. 
; they go in procession to a fountain or & grovu. Thej 
daiice ftnd ent frait, and they rotnra homo singing Gongs, 
Thoy have, in fact, been performing unconsciously the reli- 
giooG ceremonies of their aaccBiors, mid which they pursue, 
and will for aver, though they may have forgotten the name 
of the dryad or the nyniph who prcsideB over their waters. 

'1 fihonld tliink tijuir prieatB would guard tlmm from 
these errors,' eaid Lothair. 

' The Gruck priests, particularly in these Asian islands, 
are good aoi-t of people,' said Mr. Phcebus. ' They marry 
and bare generally lurge families, often very beautiful. 
TJicy have no eaccrdofal feelings, for they never can have 
any preferment; a)I the high poHta in the Greek Chureli 
being reservdl for the monks, who study what ia called 
theology. Tlie Greek parish priest is not at all Semitic ; 
there ia nothing to counteract his Aryan tendencies. I 
have already raised tbe statue of a nympb at one of their 
favourite Bprings and places of plea.'Uint pilgrimngo, and I 
Wve a atatae now in the island, still in iia case, which I 
oontemplate installing in a fumons grove of laurel not far 
o.T and very much resorted to.' 

' And what then ? ' enquired Lothair. 

' Well, I bave a conviction that among the great ratres 
tbe old creeds will come back,' said Mr. Phmbns, * and it 
'will be acknowledged that trne religion is tite worship of 
the beantjfnl. For tbe beautiful cannot be attained witb- 
ont virtoe, if virtue consists, as I bolicve, in the control of 
tbe passions, in tbe sentiment of repose, and tbe avoidance 
in all things of excess.' 

One night Lothair was walking home with the sistor 
D a Tillage festival, where they had been much amused. 



-^88 LOTH AIR. 



*" You have Lad a great maaj adFontores since we fint 
mot ? ' said Madame PhoebiiB. 

' Which makes it seem longer ago than it really is,* said 
Lothair. 

* You count time by emotion then ? ' said Euphrosyne. 

' Well, it is a wonderful thing however it be computed,' 
said Lothair. 

' For my part, I do not think that it ought to be connied 
at all,' said Madame Phcebus ; * and there is nothing to me 
80 detestable in Europe as the quantity of clocks and 
watches.' 

* Do you use a watch, my Lord ? ' asked Euphrosyne in 
a tone which always seemed to Lothair one of moddiig 
artlessness. 

* I believe I never wound it up when I had one,* said 
Lothair. 

* But you make such good use of your time,' said 
Madarao Phoebus, * you do not require watches.' 

' I am glad to hear I make good use of my time,* said 
Lothair, but a little surprised. 

* Bat you are so good, so religious,* said Madame PhcBboB. 
•"That is a great thing ; especially for one so young.' 

* Hem ! ' said Lothair. 

* That must have been a beautiful procession at Rome,* 
said Euphrosyne. 

* I was rather a spectator of it than an actor in it,' said 
Lothair with some seriousness. * It is too long a tale to 
enter into, but my part in those proceedings was entirely 
misrepresented.' 

* I believe that nothing in the newspapers is ever true/ 
said Madame Pha3bus. 

* And that is why they are so popular,' added Euphro- 
syne ; * the taste of the age being so decidedly for fiction.* 

' Is it true that you escaped from a convent to Malta ? ' 
said Madame PhcebuB 



LOTH AIR. 
'Not quite,' said LolJuLir, 'but Imc o. 



389 

lUgli for oouwr- 



^Bu| 



' As confidential u tli9 preaout, I rapposo F ' Kud 

iphro^ne. 
Yes, when we are grave, oa wc are inclinod to be now,' 
id Lotliuir. 

* Then, joa have been fighting a good deal,' said Madamt.' 
Phoeboa. 

Yoa are patting me on a court martial, SfadEime 
loobus,' said Lothair. 
But wo do not know on which side you were,' said 
phrosyne. 

That is matter of history,' said Lothair, ' and that, yon 
'know, is always doubt fol.' 

Well, I do not like Egbting,' said Madame Phcebna, 
for my part I never could find out that it did any 

* And what do you like ? ' said Loth^r. ' Tell me how 
rould you pasa your Ul'o ? ' 

' Well, mnch aa 1 do. I do not know that I want any 
tango, except I think I should like it to be alwaya 

' And I would have perpetual spring,' suid Enphrosyne. 
' But, summer or spring, what would be your favonrite 



' Well, dancing is veiy nice,' said Madame Plia.ibna. 
o cannot always be dancing,' said Lothair. 

'Then we would sing,' said Euphroaynu. 

'But the time comes when one can neithor dance nor 
bg,' said Iiothair. 

'Oh ! then we bocome part of the audience,' eaid Madame 
^cebus, 'the people for whoso amusement everybody 
botm.' 

•And enjoy power withont responsibility," said Euphro- 
' detect false notes and mark awkward geuturea. 



390 LOTH AIR. 

How can anyone doubt of Providcnoe with such a system 
of constant compensation ! ' 

There was something in the society of these two sisters 
that Lothair began to find highly attractive. Their ex- 
traordinary beauty, their genuine and unflagging gaie^, 
their thorough enjoyment of existence, and the variety of 
rosouroes with which they made life amusing and gracefnl, 
all contributed to captivate him. They had, too, a great lore 
and knowledge both of art and nature, and insensibly thej 
weaned Lothair from that habit of introspection which, 
though natural to him, ho had too much indulged, and 
taught him to find sources of interest and delight in ex- 
ternal objects. He was beginning to feel happy in this 
island, and wishing that his life might never change, when 
one day Mr. Phoobus informed them that the Prince 
Agsthonides, the eldest son of the Prince of Samos, would 
arrive from Constantinople in a few days, and would pay 
them a visit. * Ho will come with some retinue,' said Mr. 
Phoebus, * but I tinist we shall bo able by our reception to 
show that the Cantacuzenes arc not the only princely family 
in the world.* 

Mr. Phoebus was confident in his resources in this re- 
B])ect, for his yacht's crew in their Venetian dr(?s.scs could 
always furnish a guard of honour which no Grecian prince 
or Turkish pacha could easily rival. When the eventful 
day arrived he was quite equal to the occasion. The yacht 
was dressed in every part with the streaming colours of all 
nations, the banner of (Gaston Phoebus waved from hia 
pavilion, the guard of honour kept the ground, but the 
population of the isle were present in numbers and in their 
most showy costume, and a battery of ancient Turkish 
guns fired a salute without an accident. 

The Prince Agathonides was a youth, good looking and 
dressed in a splendid Palikar costume, though his manners 
were quite European, being an attache to the Turkish em- 



LOTH AIR. 391 

bassj at Vieima. He had with him a sort of govemor, a 
secretary, Berrants in Mamlouk dresses, pipe-bearers, and 
gTOoms, there being some horses as presents from his father 
to Mr. Phoebas, and some rarely embroidered kerchiefs and 
CDoice perfximes and Persian greyhounds for the ladies. 

The arrival of the yonng Prince was the signal for a 
series of entertainments in the island. First of all ^Ir. 
Phoebus resolved to give a dinner in the Frank style, to 
prove to Agathonides that there were other members of 
the Cantacuzene &mily besides himself who comprehended 
a firstrate Frank dinner. The chief people of the island 
were invited to this banquet. They drank the choicest 
grapes of France and Qermany, were stufied with tmffles, 
and sate on little cane chairs. But one might detect in 
their countenances how they sighed for their ea.sy divans, 
their simple dishes, and their resinous wine. Then thei*e 
was a wolf-hunt, and other sport ; a great day of gymnasia, 
many dances and much music ; in fact, there were choruses 
all over the island, and every night was a serenade. 

Why such general joy ? Because it was understood 
that the heir apparent of the isle, their future sovereign, 
had in fact arrived to make his bow to the beautiful 
Euphrosyne, though he saw her for the first time. 



CHAPTER LXXTV. 



Vert shortly after his arrival at Malta, Mr. Phoebus had 
spoken to Lothair about Theodora. It appeared i^at 
Lucien Campian, though severely wounded, had escaped 
with Gburibaldi after the battle of Mentana into the Italian 
territories. Here they were at once arrested, but not 
aeverelj detained, and Colonel Campian took the first 



392 LOTIIAIR. 

opportfunity of revisiting Eii(j^Iand, wbore, after M)tiliiig hi£ 
a&in, he had returned to his native coontrj, from whick 
he had been separated for many years. Mr. Phoebiu 
daring the interval had seen a great deal of him, and tha 
Colonel departed for America under the impression thst 
Lothair had been among the slain at the final struggle. 

' Campian is one of the best men I ever knew,' said 
Phoebus. * He was a remarkable instance of energy oon;- 
bined with softness of disposition. In my opinion, hov- 
ever, he ought never to have visited Europe : he was made 
to clear the back woods, and govern man by the power o: 
his hatchet and the mildness of his words. He was fight 
ing for freedom all his life, yet slavery made and slaver/ 
destroyed him. Among all the freaks of fate nothing ii 
more suqtrising than that this Transatlantic planter should 
have been ordained to be the husband of a divine being, a 
true Hellenic goddess, who in the good days would bave 
boon worshipped in this country and have inspired her 
race to actions of grace, wisdom, and beauty.' 

* I greatly esteem him,' said Lothair, * and I shall write 
to him directly.' 

* Except by Campian, who spoke probably about you to 
uo one save myself,' continued Phcebus, *your name has 
never been mentioned with reference to those strange 
transactions. Once there was a sort of rumour that you 
had met with some mishap, but tliese things were contra- 
dicted and explained, and then forgotten : and people were 
all out of town. I beKeve tliat Cardinal Grrandison com- 
municated with your man of business, and between them 
everything was kept quiet, until this portentous account 
of your doings at Rome, which transpired ailer we left 
England and which met us at Malta.' 

' I have written to my man of business about that,' said 
Lothair, ' but I think it will tax all his ingenuity to ex- 
plain, or to mystify it as successfully as he did the pre- 



LOTH AIR. 



393 






sndiiig (utventrares. At nuy rate, he will nut havo tliu 
MsistaDcfl of my Lord CardinaL' 

' TLcodnra was a remark&ble TComan on tae-ny tccouuts,' 
said Mr. Plicebus, 'but particularly on tLis, Uiat, allhoagh 
one of the moat beautiful women tbat over esisted, she was 

irod by beautiful women. My wife adored hor; Euphro- 
ho haa no entlmsiasra, a<lored her; the Princeaa of 
ivoli, the most capriciona being probably that ever existed, 
'kdored, imd always adored, Theodora. 1 think it tnast 
have been that there was on hor part a toliil abeence of 
vanity, and this the more Htmog^e in one whose vocation in 
her earlier life had been to attract and lite on popular 
Kpplaose,; but I have seen her quit theatres ringing with 
admiration and enter her carriage with the serenily of a 
Phidian mnse.' 

' I adored hor,' finid Lolhair, ' but I never could quite 
solve her character. Perhaps it was too rich and deep for 
rapid comprehension.' 

'We shall never perhaps see her like again," eaid Mr. 
Plicebus. 'It was a rare eomhinalion, poonliar to tho 
Tyrrhenian sea. I am satisfied that we must go there to 
find the pure Hellenic blood, and from thenco it got ta 

' We may not Hoe her like agnin, bat we may see her 
again,' stud Lothair ; ' and eomctimes I think she is always 
hovering over me.' 

In this vein, when they were alone, they were frequently 
faking of the departed ; and one day (it was before tho 
Rival of Prince Agathonides), Mr. Phcobns said to 
Erotbair, ' We will ndo thia nioraing to wliat we call tlio 
e of Daphne. It is a real laurel i^ve. 8ome of the 
inst bo immemonal, and deserve to have been 
red, if once they were not bo. In their Lnge grotesque 
8 you would not easily rocogniae your polished friesda 
f Europe, so trim and glossy and alirublike. Tlio people 



394 LOTH AIR. 



are very fond of tills grove and make frequent prooessioiis 
there. Once a year they mnst be headed by their priest. 
No one knows why, nor has he the slightest idea of the 
reason of the various ceremonies which he that day per. 
fofms. But we know, and some day he or his snocessora 
will equally understand them. Yes, if I remain here long 
enough, and I sometimes think I will never again quit the 
isle, I shall expect some fine summer night, when there is 
that rich stillness which the whispering waves only render 
more intense, to hear a voice of music on the mountains 
declaring that the god Pan has returned to earth.' 

It was a picturesque ride, as every ride was on this 
island, skirting the sylvan hills with the sea glimmering in 
the distance. Lothair was pleased with the approaches to 
the sacred grove : now and then a single tree with grey 
branches and a green head, then a great spread of under- 
wood, all laurel, and then spontaneous plantations of young 
trees. 

* There was always a vacant space in the centre of the 
gi'ove,* said Mr. Phcobus, *once sadly overrun with wild 
slirubs, but 1 have cleared it and restored the genius of the 
8j)ot. See ! * 

They entered the sacred circle and beheld a statue raised 
on a porphyry j)ede8tal. The light fell with magical efiect 
on the face of the statue. It was the statue of Theodora, 
the placing of which in the pavilion of Belmont Mr. 
PLoobus wa8 superintending when Lothair first made his 
aocjimintauoe. 



CHAPTER LXXV. 

B Prince Ag'atbonides seemed qnite to monopolise the 
RtteatiDn of Itliulame PlirsLua and ]ier sister. TLib waa 
not very nnrL-asonable, considering that he was tifir 
■visitor, the ftiture cUiof of their Loaae, and had biwught 
them Eo many embroidered pocket-bandkerctiiers, cboice 
BCenta and fanpy dogs. But Lothair thought it quite dis- 
gusting, nor could he conceive what they saw in him, what 
they were talking about or laughing about, for, eo far as be 
had been able to form any opinion on the eubjcct, the 
PriDCe wus a shallow -pa ted coxcomb without a Bingle 
quality to charm any wonnan of eeiise and spirit. Lothair 
to consider how he coald pursue his travels, where 
should go to, and when that waa settled, how he fihould 

Jnat at this moment of perplexity, as is oflon tlie case, 
■ometbing occurred which no one could forosue, but which 
like every event removed some dilBcuitioa and introduced 



^^ualitj 
^baho 

^^Btthl 



■jfthers. 
^K Thei 
^Hphcebc 



t There arrived at the island a despatch forwarded to Mr 

cebos by the Russian Amhastiador at Constantinople, 

who had received it from hia colleague at London. This 

despatch contained a proposition to Mr. Pbtelias to rcpnii 

to tie Court of St. Petersburgli, and accept nppointmuntt 

^BOf high distinction and emolumcut. Without in any way 

^^batrictiug the independent pursuit of his profofision, ho 

^Hru offered a large salary, the post of Court painter, and 

^■Oie Presidency of the Academy of Fine Arts. Of such 

moment did the Russian Government deem the oflicial 

prMence of this iliustrioas artist in their country, that it 

_WAS intimated, if the arranRement could be offcctod, its 

ni^ht be celebrated by conferring on Jlr. 



396 LOTH AIR. 

PbcBbni a patenfc of nobility and a decoration of & high 
olasa. The despatch contained a private letter from an 
exalted member of the Imperial family, who had had the 
high and gratifying distinction of making Mr. PhoBbn8*6 
acquaintance in London, personally pressing the acceptance 
by him of the general proposition, assuring him of cordial 
welcome and support, and informing Mr. Phoebus that 
what waa particularly desired at this moment waa a series 
I of paintings illustrative of some of the most memorable 
scenes in the Holy Land and especially the arrival of the 
' pilgrims of the Greek rite at Jerusalem. As for this 
I purpose he would probably like to visit Palestine, the 
I whole of the autumn or even a longer period was placed 
at his disposal, so that, enriched with all necessary draw- 
- ings and studies, he might achieve his more elaborate 
I performances in Russia at his leisure and with every 
advantage. 

Considering that the great objects in life with Mr. 
Phoebus were to live in an Aryan country, amid an Aryan 
race, and produce works which should revive for the 
benefit of human nature Aryan creeds, a proposition to 
pass some of the prime years of his life among the Mon- 
golian race, and at the same time devote his pencil to the 
celebration of Semitic subjects, was startling. 

* I sball say notliing to Madame Phoebus until the Prince 
has gone,* he remarked to Lothair : * he will go the day after 
to-morrow. I do not know what they may offer to make 
me; probably only a Baron, perhaps a CJount. But you 
know in Russia a man may become a Prince, and I cer- 
tainly should like those Cantacuzenes to feel that after all 
their daughter is a Princess with no thanks to them. The 
climate is detestable, but one owes much to one's profes- 
sion. Art would be honoured at a great, perhaps tho 
greatest. Court. There would not bo a fellow at his easel 
ui the streets about Fitzroy Square who would not be 



I 



LOTH AIR. 



397 



rader. I wonder what the decoi'aticm will be. " Of h 

class ; " Tagne. It might bo Alexander Nowsky. 

Woo. know yon have a fight, whatever yonr deisonition, t« 

»ve it expressed, of course at your own expenao, in bril- 

tnts. I confirss I have uiy weaknesses. I should like to 

orer to the Acadeniy dinner (one can do anytbing in 

B days of raiJroiids) and dine with the R. A.s in my 

gibhon and the star of the Alexander Nowsky in brilliants. 

[ think every Academician wonkl feel elevated. What I 

1 their Semitic siiljjects, nothing bnt drapery. 

Br eren their heads in those scorching climes. 

n anyone make anytbing of a caravan of pilgrims ? To 

re, tlioy say no one can draw a camel. If I went to 

ilom a camel woold at Inst bo drawn. Tiiere is 

iing in that, We mnst think over these thinga, and 

dien the Prioco bas gone talk it over with Kladame Phce- 

I wish yon all to come to a wise decision, without 

B sUghtest reference to my iadividnal tasljas or, it may 

be, prejudices.' 

The reanlt of all this was that Mr. Phtebus, without 
ftbeolutely committing liimself, favourably entertained the 
1 proposition of the Russian Court ; while, with 
erfe to their particular object in art, lie agreed to visit 
Vlestine and execute at least one wovk for his Imperial 
Heod and patron. He counted on reaching Jerusalem 
before the Easter pilgrims returned to thi^ir homes. 

' If thoy would make me a Prince at once and give mo 
■^hfl Alexander Newsky in brilliants it might be wortli 
Innking of,' he said to Luthair. 

The ladies, thoogli they loved their isle, were quite 
Uligbted with the thought of going to Jerusalem. Ma- 
3 Phoibna knew a Ilnasiau Clniiid Duchoag who had 
uted lo her that she had been both to Jerusalem and 
Rorquay, and Madame Pha^fans had felt quite ashamed 
"kat she had been to neither. 



398 LOTH AIR. 



'I snpposo you will foel quite at home there,* said 
Euphrospie to Lothair. 

* No ; I never was there.' 

* No ; but you know ail abont those places and people, 
holy places and holy persons. The Blessed Virgin did not, 
I believe, appear to yoa. It was to a yonng lady, was it 
not ? We were asking each other last night who the 
young lady could be.* 



CHAPTER LXXVI. 



Time, which changes everything, is changing even the 
traditionary appearance of forlorn Jerusalem. Not that 
its mien, after all, was ever very pad. Its airy site, its 
splendid mosque, its vast monasteries, the bright material 
of which the whole city is built, its cupolaed houses of 
fi'costoiie, and above all the towers and gates and battle- 
ments of its lofty and complete walls, always rendei-ed it a 
handsome city. Jerusalem has not been sacked so often 
or so recently as the other two great ancient cities, Rome 
and Athens. Its \^cinage was never more desolate than 
the Campagna, or the state of Attica and the Morea in 
1830. 

The battlefield of western Asia fi*om the days of the 
Assyinan kings to those of Mehemet Ali, Palestine endured 
the same devastation as in modem times has been the 
doom of Flanders and the Milanese ; but the yea.*8 of 
havoc in the Low Countries and Lombardy must be 
counted in Palestine by centuries. Yet the wide plains of 
the Holy Land, Sharon and bnecnem and Esdraelon, have 
rt^covered ; they are as fertile and as fair as in old days ; it 
is the hill culture that has been destroyed, and that is the 
culture on which Jerusalem mainly depended. Its hilli 



rmra terraced gardens, vineyards, and groves of olive trees. 
And here it is that we lind renovation. The tt^rrafiea are 
ngain nscending tiie stony heights, &nd the t^je is fii!- 
qnently gladdened with young plantations. Fruit trei'S, 
the peach and the pomegraufit«, the Silmond and the fig, 
□O'er gntciouH groups ; aud the true children of the land, 
Iho vine and the olive, are again exalting in their native 
soil. 

There is one spot, however, which has been neglecteil, 
end yet the one that tihould have been the fii-st remcmlwrod, 
BS it hof) been the most rudely wasted. Dlesscd be tliu 
hand which plants trees npon Ohvet! Blessed be thu 
hund that builds gurdena about Sion ! 

The most remiiikablo creation, however, in modern 
Jerusalem is the Russian settlement which within a few 
years has risen on the elevated ground on the western side 
of the city. The Latin, tho Greek, and the Armeni&ii 
Churches h:id fur centuries possessed euclused establish- 
meals in tho city, which, under the iiamo of monasterios, 
provided shelter and protection for hundreds, it might be 
Riiid even ihoasanda, of pilgrims belonging to their rospoc- 
tive rites. The great scale, therefore, on which Rus^a 
secured ho.Bpitality for her subjects was not in reality so 
rutiiarkahle us the fact Uiat it seemed to indicate a settled 
determination to seiiarat« the Muscovite Cburoh altogether 
from the Greek, and tlirow ofi" what little dependence is 
Blill acknowledged on tho Patriarchate of Constantinople. 
Whatever the motive, the design has been accomplished 
en a large scale. The Russiaa buildings, all well defended, 
ftre a caravanserui, a cathedral, a, citadel. The consular flag 
crowns the height and indicates the office of administration } 
priests mid monks are permanent inhabitants, and a whole 
curavaii of Mnscovita pUgrima and the trades on which 
o accommodated within the preoinct. 



Mr. Phcpliua, his family a 






] be the gaosts 



400 LOTH AIR. 



of ibo Knssuin Consal, and ererj preparation was mado to 
insnro the celebrated painter a becoming reception. Vre- 
quent telegrams had duly impressed the representative of 
all the Russias in the Holy Land with the importance of 
liis impending visitor. Even the qualified and strictly 
provisional acceptance of the Russian proposition by Mr. 
Phcebus had agitated the wires of Europe scarcely less 
than a suggested Conference. 

'An artist should always remember what he owes to 
posterity and his profession,' said Mr. Phoebus to Ixv 
thair, as they were walking the deck, *even if you can 
distinguish between them, which I doubt, for it is only by 
a sense of the beautiful that the human family can be 
sustained in its proper place in the scale of creation, ai d 
the sense of the beautiful is a result of the study of the 
fine arts. It would be something to sow the seeds of 
organic change in the Mongolian type, but I am not 
sanguine of success. There is no original fund of aptitude 
to act upon. The most ancient of existing conun unities is 
Turanian, and yet though they could invent gunpowder 
and the mariner's compass, they never could understand 
{)erspective. Man a-liead there ! tell Madame Phoebas to 
come on deck for the first sight of Mount Lebanon.' 

Wlien the * Pan ' entered the port of Joppa they observed 
another English yacht in those waters ; but before they 
(M)uld speculate on its owner they were involved in all the 
ccjni plications of landing. On the quay, the Russian Vice- 
Consul was in attendance with horses and mules, and 
donkeys handsomer than either. The ladies were delighted 
with the vast orange gardens of Joppa, which Madame 
Phoebus said realised quite her idea of the Holy Land. 

* I was prepared for milk and honey,* said Euphrosyne, 
* but this is too delightful,* as she travelled through lanes 
of date- bearing palm-trees, and snifTed with her almond- 
shaped nostrils the all-pervading fragi'ance. 



i 



LOTHAIR. 401 

TI107 passed the night ftt Arimfttl'.eft, a pretty riling 
Bnrronnded with gardens enelosed with hedges of pritkly 
pear. Here they found hospitality ia an old convent, bat 
all the comforts of Enrope and many of the refiuementa of 
Asia had been forwarded for their aecommodation. 

' It is a great homage to art,' said Mr. Phcobus, as he 
scattered hi.'i gold like a great seigneor of Gascony, 

The nest day, two miles from Jemsatem, the Consal 
mot them with a cavalcade, and the ladies a-wared their 
hoat that they were not at all wearied with their jonmey, 
but were quite prepared, in dno time, to join his dinner 
party, which he was most nnxiona they should attend, aa 
be had ' two English lords ' who hiui arrived, and whom 
he had invited to meet them. They were all cui'iouB to 
know their names, though that, nnfortunatfly, the Consul 
could not tell them, but he had sent to the English Consu- 
late to hare them written down. All he could assure 
them was that they were real Eiiglish lords, not travelling 
Elnglish lords, but in sober eameatueaa great personages. 

Mr. Phcebos was highly gratified. Ho was pleased with 
hie reception. There was nothing he liked much more 
than R procession. He was also a sincere admirer of the 
ftristocrocy of hia country. ' On the whole,' he would say, 
'they most resemble the old Hellenic race; excelling in 
athletic sports, flpeiiking no other language than their own. 
and never reading.' 

'Your fanlt,' he would aometimes say to Lothair, 'and 
the cause of many of your sorrows, is the Iiabit of mental 
introspection. Man is born to observe, but if he falls into 
paychology he observes nothing, and then he is astonished 
that life has no charms for him, or that, never seizing the oc- 
i:a5ioii, his career ir a failure. No, sir, it is the eye that must 
be occupied and cultivatod ; no one knows the capacity of the 
lyo who has not deTelo[>ed it, or the visione of hcauty and 

ilight and inexhaustihle interest which it commands. To 



402 LOTH AIR. 

a omii who obserres, life is %s different m the exiflienoe of a 
dreaming psychologist is to that of the animals of the field.* 

' I fear/ said LfOthair, * that I have at length fonnd oat 
the tmth, and that I am a dreaming psychologist.* 

'Yon are young and not irremediably lost,* said Mr. 
Phoobos. 'Fortunately you have received the admirable 
though partial education of your class. You are a good 
shot, you can ride, you can row, you can swim. That im- 
perfect secretion of the brain which is called thought has 
not yet bowed your frame. You have not had time to read 
much. Give it up altogether. The conversation of a 
woman like Theodora is worth all the libraries in the 
world. If it were only for her sake, I should wish to save 
you, but I wish to do it for your own. Yes, profit by the 
vast though calamitous experience which you have gained 
in a short time. We may know a great deal about our 
bodies, we can know very little about our minds.* 

The ' real English lords * turned out to be Bertram and 
St. Aldegonde returning from Nubia. They had left Eng- 
land about the same time as Lothair, and had paired to- 
gether on the Irish Church till Easter, with a sort of secret 
hope on the part of St. Aldegonde that they might neither 
of them reappear in the House of Commons again until the 
Irish Church were either saved or subverted. Holy week had 
long passed, and they were at Jerusalem, not quite so near 
the House of Commons as the Reform Club or the Carlton, 
but still St. Aldegonde had mentioned that he was begin- 
ning to be bored with Jerusalem, and Bertram counted on 
their inmiediate departure when they accepted the invita- 
tion to dine with the Russian Consul. 

Lothair was unafiectedly delighted to meet Bertram and 
glad to see St. Aldegonde, but he was a little nervous and 
embarrassed as to the probable tone of his reception by 
them. But their manner relieved him in an instant, for 
he saw they knew nothing of his adventures. 



LOTH AIR. 



403 



i of tho evening tit At 



A St. Aldegoodc, ' what h 
I yonrself since we last met ? ! 
with D8 and Lad & shot at a crocodile.' 

Bertram told Lothnir in tho couri 
tie foand letters at Cairo from Corii 
wliich there was a good deal aboat Lothair, and which had 
made him rather uneasy. ' That there was a rumour yon 
hitd been badly wounded, and some other things,' and 
a looked him fiill in tho face ; ' bat 1 dare Bay not a 
rord of truth.' 

1 never better in my life,' said Lothair, ' and I 
Jrvo been in Sicily and in Greece. However, we will talk 

all this finolher time.' 
[ The dinner at tbc Consalate was one of the most snocess- 
il banquets that were ever given, if to please your gneata 
B the test of good fortune in such enterprises, St. Aide- 
I perfectly charmed with the Phasbus family. 
e did not know which to admire most: the great artist, 
who wa« in remarkable spirits to-day, considering hs 
was in a Semitic country, or his radiant wife, or his 
brilliant sisler-in-law, St. Aldegonde took an early oppor- 
tunity of informing Sertram that if he liked to go 
over and Tote for the Irish Cliurch he would release 
him &om his pair with the greatest pleasure, but for 
his part he had not the slightest intention of leaving 
Jerusalem at present, Strange to say, Bertram received 
this intimation without a murmur. He was not 80 loud 
in his admiration of the Phcebua family as St. Aldegonde, 
but there is a silent sentiment sometimes more expressive 
than the noisiest applause, and more dangerous. BiTtram 
bad eat next to Euphrosyno and wuh entirely spell-hound. 

The Consul's wife, a hostess not unworthy of such 
^este, had entertained her fiienda in the Eurojioan style, 
boar was not late, and the gentlemen who 
inded the ladies from the dinner-tftblo were allowed to 



404 LOTHAIR. 

remAin some time in the saloon. Lothair talked much to 
the Consnl's wife, bj whose side sat Madame Phoebus. Si 
Aldegonde was always on his legs, distracted by the rival 
attractions of that lady and her hnsband. More remote, 
Bertram whispered to Eaphrosyne, who answered him with 
laughing eyes. 

At a certain hour, the Consul, attended by his male 
guests, crossing a court, proceeded to his divan, a lofty and 
capacious chamber painted in fresco, and with no furniture 
except the low but broad raised seat that surrounded the 
room. Here, when they were seated, an equal number of 
attendants (Arabs in Arab dress, blue gowns and red 
shppers and red caps) entered, each proffering a long pipe 
of cherry or jasmine wood. Then in a short time guests 
dropped in, and pipes and coffee were immediately brought 
to them. Any person who had been formally presented to 
the Consul had this privilege, without any further invita- 
tion. The society often found in these consular divans in 
the more remote places of the east, Cairo, Damascus, Je- 
rusalem, is often extremely entertaining and instructive. 
Celebrated travellers, distinguished men of science, artists, 
adventurers who ultimately turn out to be heroes, eccen- 
tric characters of all kinds, are here encountered, and give 
the finits of their original or experienced observation with- 
out reserve. 

* It is the smoking-room over again,' whispered St. Al- 
degonde to Lothair, * only in England one is so glad to get 
away from the women, but here, I must say, I should have 
liked to remain behind.* 

An individual in a Syrian dress, fawn-coloured robes 
girdled with a rich shawl, and a white turban, entered. 
He made his salute with grace and dignity to the Consul, 
touching his forehead, his lip, and his heart, and took his 
seat with the air of one not unaccustomed to be received, play- 
ing, until he received his chibouque, with a chaplet of beads. 



V 



LOTHAIR. 40s 

' That is a good-looking fellow, Lothuir,' aaid St, Aide- 
is it the dresB that tarna them out such Bwells ? 
I feel qaite a, lout hy some of these fellows.' 

'I thiiik he would be good-looking in any dress,' said 
Lothajr. * A i^markablo couDt«iiaD(»).' 

It waa an oval Tisago, with features in Lamiony with 
tliat form ; large dark-brown eyes and l««)ies, and brows 
lalicalclj bat completely defined ; no liair upon the focfl 
Mpt a beard, fiill but not long. He seemed alxint the 
s Mr. PhceboB, and his complexion, though paJe^ 
s clear and fair. 
[ The conversation, after some rambling, had got npon 
K Canal. Jlr. Phtebus did not care for the political 
r the commercial consequences of that great enterprise, 
|Bt ho was glad that a natni'al diviHion should bo established 
the gi'oater races and the Ethiopian, It might 
tpt lead to any considerable result, but it asserted a prin- 
He looked upon that trench as a protest. 
' Bnt would yoa place the Nilotic family in the Ethio- 
enqoired the Syrian in a voice commanding 
from its deep sweetness. 

'I would ceilainly. They were Cuslum, and that means 
negroes.' 

Tbo Syrian did not agree wilh Mr. Phcehua; he stated 

his views firmly and clearly, but williont urging them. 

Ha thooght that we must look to the Pelasgi as the 

^Bplonising race that hud peopled and produced Egypt. 

^iBie mention of Uiu Pelangi Ered Mr. PlKshos to even nn- 

^^^obJ eloqncBce. He denounced the Pelasgi as a barbarous 

^^»ce: men of gloomy suporstitions who, had it not been 

for tho Hellenes, might hare fatally arrested the human 

development. The triumph of tho Hellenes was the tri- 

[nph of the beantiful, and all that is great and good in 



8 owing 



lo their v 



' It is difficult to a 



1 what is great ii 



4o6 LOTH AIR. 

SjriEn, ' LecaoBe imtionB differ on the mbject and ages. 
8ome, for example, consider war to be a great thing, othen 
condemn it. I remember also when patriotism was a 
boaat, and now it is a oontroversy. Bnt it is not so diffi- 
cult to ascertain what is good. For man has in his own 
being some g^de to such knowledge, and divine aid to 
acquire it has not been wanting to him. For my part I 
could not msintAJn that the Hellenic system led to yirtne.* 

The conversation was assuming an ardent character 
when the Consul, as a diplomatist, turned the channel 
Mr. Phoebus had vindicated the Hellenic religion, the 
Syrian, with a terse protest against the religion of natare, 
however idealised, as tending to the corruption of man, had 
let the question die away, and the Divan were discussing 
dromedaries, and dancing girls, and sherbet made of pome- 
granate which the Consul recommended and ordered to be 
produced. Some of the guests retired, and among them 
the Syrian, with the same salute and the same graceful 
dignity as had distinguished his entrance. 

* Who is that man ? ' said Mr. Phoebus. ' I met him at 
Rome ten years ago. Baron Mecklenburg brought him to 
me to paint for my gre&t picture of St. John, which is in 
the gallery of Munich. He said in his way (you remember 
his way) that he would bring me a face of Paradise.' 

'I cannot exactly tell you his name,' said the Consul 
* Prince Galitzin brought him here and thought highly of 
him. I believe he is one of the old Syrian families in the 
mountain ; but whether be be a Maronite, or a Druse, or 
anything else, I really cannot say. Now try the sherbet.' 



CHAPTER LXXVn. 
few things finer than the i 



-ning ^ 



' o[ 



Matin t ( 

golden light falls on a walled city with turrota and towers 
and freqaeot gates: the houses of freestone with terraced 
or oval roofs sparkle in the bod, while the cnpolaed pile of 
the Chnrcii of the Holy Sepulchre, the vast monasteries, 
and the broad ateep of Sion crowned with the Tower of 
David, vary the monotony of the y^oneral masses of build- 
ing. But the gloiy of the scene is the Mosque of Omar aa 
it rises on its broad platform of marble from the deep 
ravine of Kedrou, with its magniGcent dome high in the 
air, its arches and gardened courts, and its crescents glit- 
tering amid the cedar, the cypress, and the palm. 

Bectiniug on Olivet, Lothair, alone and in charmed 
abetraction, gazed ou the woudrous scene. Since his 
arrival at Jerusalem he lived much apart, nor had he 
found difGculty in eflecting this isolation. Mr. Phoebua 
hfid already established a studio on a considerable scale, 
and was engaged in making sketches of pilgrims and 
monks, tall doakeys of Bethlehem with starry fronts, iu 
which he much delighted, and grave Jellaheen aheiks who 
were tianging about the convent!) in the hopes of obtaining 
a convoy to the Dead Sea. As for St. Aldegonde and Ber- 
tram, they passed their lives itt the Russian Consulate, or 
with its most charming inhabitants. This morning, with 
the Consul and his wife and the matchless sisters, aa 
St. Aldegonde always teinned them, they had gone on an 
to tho Convent of the Nativity. Dinner usually 
.bled all the party, and then the Divan followed. 
I say, Bertrom,' said St. Aldegonde, 'what a lucky 
paired and went to Nubia! I rejoice in the 



■ikui 



4o8 LOTH AIR. 



Div«n, and yet someliow I cannot bear leaying those 
women. If the matchless sisters would only smoke, by 
Jove they would be perfect ! * 

' I should not like Euphrosyne to smoke/ said Bertram. 

A person approached Lothair by the pathway from 
Bethany. It was the Syrian gentleman whom he had met 
at the Consulate. As he was passing Lothair, he saluted 
him with the grace which had been before remarked, an^ 
]x)thair, who was by nature courteous, and even inclined ^ 
little to ceremony in his manners, especially with thos^ 
with whom he was not intimate, immediately rose, as 
would not receive such a salutation in a reclining posture. 

' Let me not disturb you,' said the stranger, * or if 
must be on equal terms, let me also be seated, for this is a 
view that never palls.* 

* It is perhaps familiar to you,* said Lothair, ' but with 
me, only a pilgrim, its efiect is fascinating, almost over- 
whelming.* 

*The view of Jerusalem never becomes familiar,' said 
the Syrian, ' for its associations are so transcendent, so 
various, so inexhaustible, that the mind can never antici- 
pate its course of thought and feeling, when one sits, as 
we do now, on this immortal mount.* 

* I presume you live here ? * said Lothair. 

* Not exactly,* said his companion. ' I have recently 
built a house vrithout the walls, and I have planted my 
hill with fruit-trees and made vineyards and olive-grounds ; 
but I have done this as much, perhaps more, to set an 
example, which I am glad to say has been followed, as for 
my own convenience or pleasure. My home is in the North 
of Palestine on the other side of Jordan, beyond the Sea of 
Galilee. My family has dwelt there from time immemorial ; 
but they always loved this city, and have a legend that 
they dwelt occasionally within its walls, even in the days 
when Titus from that hill looked down upon the temple.' 



LOTH AIR. 



409 



'I Ii»Te often ivishcd to visit the Sea of Galileo,* said 
liOtliair. 

' Well, yon Iiavo now an opportnnity,' said tlie Symn ; 
' the Nortli of Palestine, though it lias no tropicul eplen- 
donr, hoA mach variety and a peculiar natuml charm. 
The burst and brightness of Bpring have not yet quite 
r&nlahed ; you would find our plains railiant with wild 
flowers, and our hills green with yotmg crops ; and though 
we cannot rival LebHiiDii, we bare forest glades among our 
famous hilla that w]:cr. once seen arc rcmooiberod.' 

' But there is scmothini; to me more interesting than the 
^-fplendour of tropical Ht^enory,' BFiid Lothair, * even if 
^■jBiUileo could offer it. I wish to visit the cradle of my failh.' 
^B 'And yon would do wisely,' said the Syrian, ' for there 
^UH no doubt the spiritual nature of inun is developed in 

'And yet there are persons at the present day who 
doobt, even deny, the spiritaal nature of man,* aaid Lothwr. 
* I do not, I could not ; there are reasons why I could not.' 

* There are some things I know, aiid some things I 
believe,' said the Syrian. ' I Icuow that I have a eool, and 
I beUeve that it is immortal.' 

■ It is science that by demonstrating the insigniiicBnce of 
thU globe in the vast scaio of creation has led to this in- 
fidelity,' said Lothair. 

* Science may prove the insigniRcance of this globe in 
the ecale of creation,' said the stranger, 'but it cannot 
prove the insignificaiioe of man. What ia the earth oom- 
pftred with the snn P a molehill by a mounlikin ; yet the 
inhabitant.'' of this earth can discover the elempnl.sof which 

* great orb consists, and will probably ere long aacerlAJn 
D the conditions of its being. Nny, tlie human mind can 
iiietraf« far beyond the sun. There is no relation tliure- 

e between Iha faculties of man and the scale in ci-e&tiou 
if the planet which ho inhahits.' 



4IO LOTH AIR. 



* I was glad io Lear jon assert the other night the 
spiritoal nature of man in opposition to Mr. Phoebns.' 

* Ah ! Mr. Phoebos ! ' said the stranger vrith a smfle. 
* He is an old acquaintance of mine. And I must say he 
is very consistent, except in paying a visit to Jerusalem. 
That does surprise me. He said to me the other night 
the same things as he said to me at Rome many years aga 
He would revive the worship of nature. The deities whom 
he so eloquently describes and so exquisitely delineates are 
the ideal personifications of the most eminent human quali- 
ties and chiefly the physical. Physical beauty is his 
standard of excellence, and he has a £Emciful theory that 
moral order would be the consequence of the worship of 
physical beauty, for without moral order he holds phy- 
sical beauty cannot be maintained. But the answer to 
Mr. Phoebus is, that his system has been tried and has 
failed, and imder conditions more favourable than are 
likely to exist again ; the worship of nature ended in the 
degradation of the human race.' 

* But Mr. Phcebus cannot really believe in Apollo and 
Venus,* said Lothair. • These are phrases. He is, I sup- 
pose, what is called a Pantheist.* 

* No doubt the Olympus of Mr. Phcebus is the creation 
of his easel,' replied the Syrian. * I should not, however, 
describe him as a Pantheist, whose creed requires more 
abstraction than Mr. Phcebus, the worshipper of nature, 
would tolerate. His school never care to pursue any in- 
vestigation which cannot be followed by the eye, and the 
worship of the beautiful always ends in an orgy. As for 
Pantheism, it is Atheism in domino. The belief in a 
Creator who is unconscious of creating is more monstrous 
than any dogma of any of the Churches in this city, and 
we have them all here.* 

* But there are people now who tell you that there never 
was any Creation, and therefore there never could have 
been a Creator,' said Lothair. 



*And nhich is now adrancod with the confidence of 



reltj,' said the Sjrian, ' though all o 



has been ut^ed. 



■nd vainly urged, thoos&nda of jenrs s^o. There jaost 
be design, or all we see would be without aense, and I do 
not believe in the unmeaning. As for tlio natural forcoa 
to which ail creation is now attributed, we know they are 
onconsciona, wliile conHcioaeneBS is oa inevitable a portion 
of our existence as the eye or the band. The conscious 
cannot be derived &om the nnconscious. Man is divine.' 

' I wish I could assure myself of the personality of the 
Creator,' said Lothair. ' I cling to that, but they say it ia 
anphUoBopbical . ' 

' la what sense P ' asked the Syrian. ' Is it more un- 
philosophical to licliovo in a personal God, omnipotent and 
omniscient, than in natural forces onconsciouB and irre- 
sistible p Is it un philosophical to combine power with 
intelligence ? Goethe, a Spinozist who did not believe in 
Spinoza, said that ho could bring bis mind to thu concep- 
tion that in the centre of space wo might nicet with & 
monad of pure intelligence. What may be the centre of 
space 1 leave to the diedal imagination of the author of 
" Faust ;" but a monad of pure intelligence, is that more 
philosophical than the truth, lirst revealed to man amid 
these everlasting hills,' said the Syrian, ' that Ood made 
His own image ? ' 

' I have ollen found in that assurunco a source of Bublime 
lansolation,' said Lotbair. 

a the charter of the nobility of man,' eaid the 
Bjriaa, * one of the divine dogmas revealed in this land ; 

t the invention of Councils, not one of which was held 

3 this sacred soil: confused assemblioa first got together 
by the Greeks, aud then by barbarous nations in barbarous 

Yet the divine land no longer tolls us divine ihinga,' 
I Ijotha.ir. 



413 



LOTH AIR. 



' It uMj, or it iTuj not, have fnllilled ita destiny,' sud 
the SyriAii. ' " In My Father's house are many manaions," 
Mid by the varioas bmiliea of nations the designs t^ ibt 
Creator are tiocomplished. God works by mces, and om 
wna appointed in dne Beason and after many derolopmenll 
to reveal and expoand in this land the spintual natnncf 
man. The Aryan and the Semite are of the same blood 
and origin, bnt when they quitted their central land thay 
were ordained to follow opposite conrBOS. £iu.'h division of 
tlie great race has deTclopod one portion of the donbtn 
nature of hanianity, till afWr all tlicir wandemigs they ntct 
ogtun, and, represented by their two choicest fomiUefl, IIm 
Hellenes and the Hebrews, bronght together the treania 
of tlieir aoonmnlated wisdom and secured the oirilisation of 



'Those among whom I have lired of late,* said LotliiUF, 
' have taught me to tra^^t much in Councila, and to beliere 
tliat withoat them there could he no foundation fye thi 
Church. I observe 3:011 do not speak in that vein, thoagli 
like myself you fi.iid solace in those dogmas which reot^niee 
the relations between the created and the Creator.' 

* There oan be no reli^nn without that recognition,' said 
the Syrian, ' and no creed can possibly bo devised withost 
each a reci^nition that woald satisfy man. Why yn an 
liere, whence wo eome, whither we go, these are qneslunU 
which man is organically fiamed and forced to ask liimiielf, 
and that would not be the case if they coald not h» 
answered. Aa for Chnrches depending on Councils, the 
£rst Council wjis held more than three centuries after the 
Sermon on the Mount, We Syrians had chnrches in the 
interval : no one can deny that. I bow before the Divine 
decree that swept them away from Antioch to Jemsalein, 
but I am not yet prepared to transfer my spiritnai allegiance 
to Italian Popes and Greek PatriarcbB. We believe that 
our family wero among the first followers of Jesus, and 



^ 



fc 



LOTH AIR. 413 

then heM lajida in Baaban which we bold now. 

'e had b gospel once in our district where there was soma 

to this, and btnng written by ncighbonra, and 

ibablj ftt the time, I dare saj- it was occumte, but the 

'estem Chorchea declared our gospel was not authentic, 

thoogh why I cannot t«ll, and thoy succeeded in extirpating 

it. It was not an additional reason why wo should enter 

into their fold. So I aiu content to dwell in Galilee and 

tmce the footsteps of my divine Master ; mnaiiig over Hia 

life and pregnant aayings amid the mounts He Bancti£ed 

and the waters He loved so well.' 

10 snn was now rising in the heavens, and the hour 
arrived when it became expedient to seek the shade, 
.bfiir and the Syrian rose at the same time. 
I ehall not easily forget our conversation on the Mount 
of Olives,' said Lothair, ' and I would ask you to add to 
this kindness by permitting me, boforo I leave Jerusalem, 
to pay my respects to yon under your roof.' 

' Peace bo with you ! ' eaid the Syrian. ' I live withont 
the gate of Damascus, on a hill which you will easily 
recognise, and my name is Pakaclete.' 



t 



CHAPTER LXXVIII. 

passed very agreeably to St. Aldegondo and Bertram 
Jornsalem, for it was pUNSed entirely at the Russian 
.lato, or with its intei'estiug and charming inmates, 
were always making exenrsions, or, as they styled 
pilgrimt^es. They saw Utile of Lotliair, who would 
willingiy have conversed with his friend on many topics, 
bat his IHend was almost always engaged, and if by some 
clinnco they succeeded in finding themselves alone, Bortrato 
>poand to ho always preoccupied. Ouo day be siud to 



414 LOTHAIR. 

Loihair, ' I tell jou wLat, old feUow, if yon want to know 
all about what has happened at home, I will give jou 
Corisande's letters. They are a sort of journal which she 
promised to keep for me, and they will tell jou erexything. 
I found an immense packet of them on our return from 
Cairo, and I meant to have read them here ; but I do not 
know how it is, I suppose there is so much to be seen here, 
but I never seem to have a moment to myself. I have got 
an engagement now to the Consulate. We are going to 
Elisha's fountain to-day. Why do not you come ? ' 

' Well, I am engaged too/ said Lothair. ' I have settled 
to go to the Tombs of the Kings to-day, with Signor 
Paraclete, and I cannot well get off; but remember the 
letters.' 

Tbe box of letters arrived at Lothair's rooms in due 
season, and their perusal deeply interested him. In their 
pages, alike earnest and lively, and a picture of a mind of 
high intclli<^oncc adorned with fiincy and feeling, the name 
of Lothair frequently appeared, and sometimes accompanied 
with expressions that made his heart beat. All the rumours 
of his adventures as they gradually arrived in England, 
generally distorted, were duly chronicled, and sometimes 
with comments, which intimated the interest they occa- 
sioned to the correspondent of Bertram. More than once 
she could not refrain from reproaching her brother for 
having left his fnend so much to himself. * Of all yonr 
friends,' she said, * the one who always most interested me, 
and seemed most worthy of your affection.* And then sbe 
deplored the absolute ruin of Lothair, for such she deemed 
his entrance into the Roman Church. 

* I was right in my appreciation of that woman, though 
I was utterly inexperienced in life,' thought Lothair. * If 
her mother had only favoured my views two years ago, 
affairs would have been different Would they have been 
bettor? Can they be worse] But I have gained expe- 



LOTH AIR. 



4'5 



rienoe. CerfuDlj ; and paid for it witb my heart's blood. 
And might I not have gained experience tranquiUy, in tha 
diacharga of the duties of my position at home, dear home ? 
Perhapa not. And suppose I never had gained experienoe, 
I still might hare been happy ? And w!mt am I now P 
Most lone and sad. Bo lone aod sad, that uotliing but tlie 
magical influence of the scene around me Baves mo from an 
orerw helming despondency.' 

Lotbair passed bis bfe chiefly with Paraclete, and a few 
neeka after tlieir first acquaintance, they left JeruEalem 
togclber for Galilee. 

The month of May had disappeared and Juno was ad- 
vancing. Bertram and St. Aldegunde no longer talked 
about their pair, and their enga<^ments in the House of 
Commons. There seemed a tacit understanding between 
tbem to avoid the subject ; remarkable on tbe part of 
Bertram, for he bad always been urgent ou his brother-in- 
law to fulfil their parliamcutaiy ohligation. 

The party at the Russian Consulate had gone on a 
gnwd expedition to the Dead Sea, and had been absent for 
many days from Jerusalem. They were convoyed by one 
of the sheiks of the Jordan valley, It was a most successful 
expedition: constant adventure, novel objects and habits, 
all the spelt of a romantic life. The ladies were delighted 
witb tlje scenery of the Jordan valley, and the gentlemen 
had good sport ; St, Aldegonde had killed a wild boar, and 
Bertram an ibex, whose horns were preserved for Brentham. 
Jlr. Phmbus inteuHely studied the camel and its habits. 
He persuaded himself that the ship of Llie desert entirely 
nnderstood him. ' But it is always so,' be added. ' There 
IB no animal that in a week does not perfectly comprehend 
me. Had I time and could give myself np to it, I bavo no 
doubt I coold make them speak. Nature has endowed me, 
BO for as dumb animals are concerned, witb a peculiar 






4l« 



LOTUAIR. 



At laet tliia liappy Cftr*vftn was tffaa witbia ngbt of Um 
walls of Jerusalem. 

' I should like to tiave remained In tlie volley of Uu 
Jonlaa for ever,* said St. AJdegonde. 

'And so should I,' whispered Bertnun to Buphrosyvc, 
' with the flame companions.' 

When thcf hsd returned to the Consolate, they found 
the poat from England had arrived daring their absences 
There were despatches for all. It ia an agitating momeat, 
that nrnval of letters in a distant land, tiord St. Aide- 
gonde seemed mnch distnrhed when he tore open and 
pomnod his. His countenance became cloaded ; be dashed 
his hand through bis dinbevelled looks ; be poated ; and 
then he said to Bertram, ' Come to mj room.' 

'Anything wrong at home ?' 

' Not at home,' said St. Aldegonde. ' Bertba ia all righL 
Bat a moat infernal letter from G\yn, most insolent. If 1 
do return I will vote against tbem, Bnt I will not rotnm. 
I have made op my mind to that. People are so selfish,' 
exclaimed St. Aldegonde with indignatioa. 'They new 
think of anything but themselves.' 

' Show me his letter," said Bertram. 'I have got a lettw 
too ; it is from the Dnke.' 

The letter of the Opposition whip did not deserve the 
epithets ascribed to it by St. Aldegonde. It was urgent 
and oonrteonsly peremptory ; but, considering the oirciim- 
slonces of the case, by no menns too absolnfe. fUred t« 
piaster by great tndnlgence, St. Aldegonde was psasiag 
Whitsuntide at Jerusatom. The parUamentary positiom 
was critical, and the futnre of the Opposition seemed to 
depend on the majority by which their rosolutions On the 
Irish Chni'cb were sent np to the Honse of Lords. 

'Well,' said Bertram. ' I see nothing to complain of in 
that letter. Except a little more crgency, it is almost iho 
same langnoge as reuched ns at Cairo, and then yoD nid 
was a capital fellow, aud seemed quite pleased,' 




1^ 



I hkted E^Tpt,' said St. Aldegoiule. ' I 
tha PjTBjmda, and I was disappointed with the 
dancing- girls ; and it seemed to me that, if it had not been 
for tiio whip, we never should have been able to escape. 
But things are very diiTerent now.' 

' Tea they are,' said Bertram in a melancholy tone. 

■ Yon do not think of returning p ' said St. Aldegonde. 

' Instantly,' rephcd Bcrtrara, ' I have a letter from the 
Duke which is peremptory. The county is dissatisfied with 
my absence. And mine ia a queer constituency ; very 
.erous and several large towns ; the popularity of my 
.ly gained me the seat, not their absolute influence.' 

'My constituents never trouble me," said St. Aldegonde. 
You have none,' said Bertram. 

Well, if I were member for a metropolitan district I 
would not badge. And 1 little thought yon would have 
deserted mo.' 

' Ah ! ' sighed Bertram. ' You are discontented, because 
your amu8oment« are interrupted. Bnt think of my posi- 
tion, torn from a woman whom I adore.' 

' Well, you know yon must have loft her sooner or later,' 
urged St. Aldegonde. 

' Why ? ' asked Bertram. 

' Yon know what Lothair told ua. She is engaged to her 
cousin the Prince of Samos, and ' 

' If I had only the Prince of SamoB to deal with I should 
care little,' said Bertram. 

' Why, what do you mean ? ' 

' That Enphroayno is mine, if ray family will aanotion 
onr union, but not otherwise.' 

6t. Aldegonde gave a long whistle, and he added, ' I wish 
Bertiia were here. She ia the only person I know who has 
a bead.' 

'Too see, my dear Onus ville, while yon nre talking of yon* 
little disappointment*, I am involved in awful diffioulties.' 



41 8 LOTH AIR. 



' Yon are sure about the Prinoe of Samoa P * 

' Clear your head of that. There is no engagement of 
any kind between him and Euphrosyne. The viait to tha 
island was only a preliminaiy ceremony, just to show hiia- 
Bclf. No donbt the &ther wishes the alliance ; nor is then 
any reason to snppose that it would be disagreeable to the 
son ; but, I repeat it, no engagement exists.' 

' If I were not your brother-in-law, I should have been 
very glad to have married Euphrosyne myself^' said Si 
Aidegondo. 

* Yes, but what am I to do P ' asked Bertram rather im- 
patiently. 

' It will not do to write to Brentham,' said St. Alde- 
gonde, gravely ; * that I see clearly.' Then, afler musing a 
while, he added, ' I am vexed to leave our friends here and 
shall miss them sadly. They are the most agreeable people 
I ever knew. I never enjoyed myself so much. But we 
must think of nothing but your affairs. We must return 
instantly. The whip will be an excuse, but the real busi- 
ness will be Euphrosyne. I should delight in having her 
for a sister-in-law, but the affair will require management. 
We can make short work of getting home : steam to Mar- 
seilles, leave the yacht there, and take the railroad. 1 
have half a mind to telegraph to Bertha to meet us there. 
She would be of great use.' 



CHAPTER LXXTX. 



LoTHAiB was delighted with Galilee, and particularly with 
the blue waters of its lake slumbering beneath the surround- 
ing hills. Of all its once pleasant towns, Tiberias alone 
remains, and that in ruins from a recent earthquake. But 
where are Cborazin, and Bethsaida, and Capernaum ? A 
q^up of hovels and an ancient tower still bear the magic 



LOTHMR. 419 

9 of Magdala, and all nround are green monnts and 
■ ^«nt1e slopes, the Bccaes of miriiirles that soFUiiied the heart 
of roan, and of Bcrmona that never ttre liia ear. Dreams 
passed over Lothair of BcttUcg for ever on the nhorea of 
tliese waters and of reproducing nil their vanished happi- 
ne«s : rehuilding their mcmoi-aMa citJeB, reviving their 
fisheries, caltivating the plain of Genncsaret and the conn- 
try of the Gadarenea, and leaking researches \a this cradla 
of pure and primitive Christianity. 

The heritage of Paraclete was iimocg the oakB of Ba^han, 
a lofty land, rising suddenly from tbo Jordan valley, verdant 
arid well watered, and clothed in many parts with forest ; 
there the hoiit of Lothair resided among his lands and people, 
and himttelf dwelt in a £t<me and castellated building, a 
portion of which wns of immemorial antiquity, and where 
he could rally his forces and defend himself in case of the 
irruption and invasion of the desert tribes. And hero one 

P' — >Ta ajrived a mcBsonger from Jerusalem summoning 
thair back to that city, in consequence of the intended 
pnrtnre of hia friends. 
The call was urgent and was obeyed immediately with 
tliat promptitnde which the manners of the East, requiring 
no preparation, admit. Paraclete nccjjmpanied hia guest. 
They had to cross the Jot-dan, and then to trace their way 
tili they reached the southern Emit of the plain of Eadi'aelon, 
from whence tbey counted on the following day to reach 
Joruaslem. While they were enoompcd on this spot, a 
body of Turkish soldiery seized all their horses, whiuh were 
required, they said, by the Pacha of Damaacos, who was 
proceeding to Jcmsalem attending a great Turkish general, 
who was on a mission to examine the means of defence of 
Palestine on the Egyptian side. This was very Teiatioua, 
bat one of those incidents of Eastern hfo against which it 
ia impossible to cont«nd ) so Lothair and Paraclete wero 
obliged to take refuge in their pipes beneath a huge and 



4IO LOTHAIR. 

Bolitary sycamore tree, amu'ting tlie arriial of the Ottomu 
magnificoen. 

Tbey c&m<> &t last, a considerable Torce of cav&lry, thm 
mulos and biLrbikrouB carriages with the h&rem, nil ik 
riders and inmntoa enveloped in what appeared to be wind- 
ing sbccts, white and shapelesa ; aboot tbem enniichs tuul 
servunta. The ataff of tbe Pachaa followod, pnjoedini^ the 
grandees who closed tlie march, moaated on AnaEoliii') 
chfirgera. 

Paraclete and Lothair had been obligied to leave th) 
fp:utefiil shade of tbo ey camore tree, aa tbe spot had been 
fixed on by the commander of the advanced guard for tte 
resting- place of the Fachoa. They were etandiug aside ani 
watching the progress of the procession, and contemplatipf 
the earliest opportunity of representing their grievances to 
high aathority, when the Turkish general, or tbe Serasldwi 
as the Syrians inaccurately styled him, suddenly reined in 
his steed, and said in a loud voice, ' Captain Muriel.' 

Lothair recognised the well-known voice of hia command- 
ing officer in the Apennine, and advanced to bim with a 
military salnte. * I must lirat congratulate yon on being 
olive, which I hardly hoped,' said the General. 'Then let 
me know why yoa are hei-e.* 

And Lothair told him. 

' Well, yon shaU have back your horses,' said the Genei'ol ', 
' and I will escort yon to El Khuda, In the meantime you 
must be oar guest ;' and he presented him to the Pucha cf 
Damascus with some form. ' You and I have bivouacked 
in tbe open air before this, and not in so blond a clime.' 

Beneath the shade of the patriarchal sycamore, the 
General narrated to Lothair his adventures since they were 
fellow- combatants on the fatal deld of Mentana. 

* When all was over,' couljnued the General, ' I fled with 
Garibaldi, and gained tbe Italian frontier at Terai. Hen 
we wei« of conrse arrested by the authoritios ; but not very 



Ml 



LOTH AIR. 



+21 



maliciously. I aicnped one moniing, nnd got among tbe 
monnt&ina in the neigbbourhood of our old camp. I bad 
ta wander ftboat these parta for some time, for the Papalini 
were in the Ticinity, and there vras danger. It was a hard 
time ; bnt I found a friend now and then among the coun- 
try people, though they are dreadfully Buperstitioua. At 
last I gut to tbe shore, and induced an honest fellow to put 
to Bea in an open boat on the chance of aoraetbing turning 
up. It did in the ehape of a. brigantine from Elba bound 
for Corfu. Here I waa aura to find frienda, for tbe 
brotherhood are strong in the Ionian lalea. And I began 
to look about for businesB. Tbe Greeks made mo eome 
ofieis, but their achemeB were all vanity, worse than the 
Irish. Yon remember our Fenian aquabblel From some- 
thing that tranapired, I had made up my mind, so soon aa 
I w.-kB well equipped, to go to Turkey. I had had Bomo 
tranaactiona with the bouse of Cnntacuzene, through tbe 
kiudnees of our dear friend whom wo will never forget, but 
will never mention ; and through them I became acquainted 
with the Prince of Simoe, who in the chief of their houae. 
He is in the entire confidence of Aali Pacba. I eoon found 
out that there was real business on the carpet. The Otto- 
man army, after many trials and vicissitudes, ia now in good 
cose ; and tbe Porte has resolved to stand no more uonaenae 
either in this direction.' and tbe General gave a significant 
glance, 'or in any other. But they wanted a general; they 
wanted a man who knew his buaincas. I am not a Qarifaaldi, 
yon know, nnd never pretended to be, I have no genius, or 
Tolcanic fire, or that sort of thing ; bnt I do presume to say, 
with f^r troops, paid with tolerable regularity, a battery or 
two of rifled cannon, and a well -organised commissariat, I 
am not afndd of meeting any captain of my acquaintance, 
whatever hia land or longuage. The Turks are a brave 
people, and there is nothing in their system, political or 
nlieioaB, which jars with my convictions. In the umy, 



which ii all that I much care for, there is Uie csreor of 
merit, &nd I can promote any able roan that I rcca^niM. 
As for their religion, they are tolerant and eiact nothing 
from mo ; and if I bad any religion except Kladre Nature 
I am. not sure I woald not pntfer Islaiuisra ; which is at 
least simple, and as little sacerdotal as any urganiswi creed 
can be. The Porte made me a liberal ofler and I aooepted 
it. It, GO bnppened that, the moment I entered their Borvio^ 
I was wanted. They had a difficnlty on their Dalmatisn 
rronticr; I eottted it in a way they likod. And now I am 
sent here with fall powers, and am a pacha of the highen 
clasa, and with a prospect of some warm work. I do not 
know what yonr views are, bnt, if yon would like a littla 
more soldiering, I will put yon on my staff; and, for aa^l 
I know, we may find oar winter-qnartera at Grand Cairo, 
thoy say a pleasant place for snch a season.' 

' My soldiering has not been yery fortunate," said 
Lothair; 'and I am not quite nu great an admirer of 
the Turks as yon are, OeneriLl. My mind ia rather on the 
pursuits of [leaco, and twenty boars ago I had a dream of 
settling on the BboreB of the Sea of Galilee.' 

' Wliatever yon do,' said the General, ' give np dreams.' 

' I think yon may bo right in that,' said Lotbair, with 
half a sigh. 

' Action may not always be happiness,' said the Oimraal; 
' but there is no happiness without action. If yon will not 
fight the Egyptians, were I you, I would retuni home and 



plunge into ail'airs. That 


was a fin 


3 castle of 


yours 


1 visited 


one morning ; a man wb 


lives 1 


n such a 


place 


must be 


able to find a great deal to do.' 








' I almost wish 1 wer 


e there, 


with yon 


for 


my com- 


paniou,' said Lothair. 








j 


' The wheel may turn,' 


said the Qenoral 


* but I benin j 


to think I shall not see 


much of 


Europe 


igain. 


I bavo 


gpven it some of my best 

^ — . 


years aud best blood ; 


and ill 



LOTIIAIR. 



42? 



CHAPTER LXXX. 



had asBisted in eBtablishing tbe Roman republic, I should 

not bave lived in vain ; but the old imposture soems to tne 
stronger thati ever. I htive got ten pood years in mo yet ; 
and, if I be well supported and in. luck (for, after all, every- 
thing dejienda on fortune), and manage to put a couple of 
bundred thousand men in perfect discipline, I may find 
eome consolation for not blowing up St. Peter's, and may 
do aomething for the freedom of mankind on the banks of 
^Mhe Danube.' 

^HIbs. Pdtnst Giles in full toilette was standing before the 
^^^untelpiece of ber drawing-room in Hyde Park Gardens, 
1 and watching with some ansief j the clock that reaf«d on 
ib. It was the dinner honr, and Mr, Putney Giles, pap- 
ticnlar in sucb matters, had not returned. No one looked 
forward to his dinner and a chat v^ith hia wife with greater 
Keet than Mr. Putney Giles ; and he deserved the gratificai- 
tion which both incidents afforded him, for he fairly earned 
it Fnli of news and bustle, brimful of importance and 
prosperity, cunshiny and successful, his daily return home, 
which, with many, perlmps most, men is a process lugu- 
briously monotonous, was in Hyde Park Gardens, even to 
ApoUonia, who possessed many means of amusement and 
occupation, a source ever of interest and excitement. 

To-day too, particularly, for their great client, friend, 

md patron, Lothair, had arrived last night from the Con- 

inont at Muriel House, and bad directed ilr. Putney Giles 

a attendance on him on the afternoon of this day. 

Muriel House was a family mansion in the Green Park. 

I built of hewn stone during the last century ; a 

^Uadian edilice, for a tittie much neglected, but now 

petored and duly prepared for the reception of itn lord 



424 LOTH AIR. 



and master bj tlie same combined energy and taste wbibh 
had proved so satis&ctory and sacoessfal atMoriel Towers. 

It was a long room, the firont saloon at Hyde F^ 
(hardens, and the door was as remote as possible from the 
mantelpiece. It opened suddenly, bat only the pantbg 
&oe of M& Putney GKles was seen, as he poured forth in 
hurried words : ' My dear, dreadftdly late, but I can dress 
in five minutes. I only opened the door in passing, to tdl 
you that I have seen our great friend ; wonderful man ! 
but I will tell you all at dinner, or after. It was not he 
who kept me, but the Duke of Brecon. The Duke has been 
with me two hours. I had a good mind to bring him home 
to dinner, and give him a bottle of my '48. They like that 
sort of thing ; but it will keep,' and the head vanished. 

The Duke of Brecon would not have dined ill had he 
honoured this household. It is a pleasant thing to see an 
opulent and prosperous man of business, sanguine and full 
of health, and a little overworked, at that ro3ral meal, 
dinner. How ho enjoys his soup ! And how curious in his 
fish ! How critical in his entr^, and how nice in his 
Welsh mutton ! His exhausted brain rallies under the glass 
of dry sherry, and he realises all his dreams with the aid 
of claret that has the true flavour of the violet. 

* And now, my dear Apollonia,' said Mr. Putney Giles, 
when the servants had retired, and he turned his chair and 
played with a new nut from the Brazils, ' about our great 
friend. Well, I was there at two o'clock, and found him 
at breakfast. Indeed, he said, that had he not given me an 
appointment, he thought he should not have risen at all, 
so delighted he was to find himself again in an English 
bed. Well, he told me everything that had happened. I 
never knew a man so unreserved, and so different from 
what he was when I first knew him, for he never much 
cared then to talk about himself. But no egotism, nothincf 
of that sort of thing : all his mistakes, all his blunders, as 



ho ealled them. Es told me Gver)-thiiig tint I might 
thorODghl; imderatand hia position, &nd that he might 
jndge whether the steps I had taken in roforeace to it were 
adequate. * 

' I suppose about hia religion,' said Apollonia. 'What ia 
he, after all ? ' 

' Ab sound as yon are. But yoD are ngbt ; that was tlie 
point on which he was most anxious. He wrote, jou know, 
to me from M&Ita, when the account of his conversion first 
appeared, to take all secessary steps to contradict the 
annonncemcnt, and conutoract its coseequonceB. He gave 
me carte blancbe, and waa anxioaa to know precisely 
what I had done. I told liim that a mere contradiction, 
fcnonymooB or from a third persen, however nnqualifled ita 
language, would have no cfTect in the faoo of a detailed 
narrative, like that in all the papers, of his walking in pro- 
cession and holding a lighted taper and all that sort of 
thing. What I did was this. I commenced building, bj 
his direction, two new chnrchea on his estate, and an- 
nounced in the local joamala, copied in London, that ho 
would be prcBent at the conaeci-ation of both, I snhaoribed 
in his name, and largely, to all tho dioceitaD societies, gave 
A thousand pounds to the Biahop of London's fund, and 
accepted for liim the office of steward for thia year for the 
Bona of the Clergy. Then, when tho public feeling was 
ripe, relieved from all its anxieties, and beginning to get 
indignant at the calumnies that had bccu so freely cir- 
culated, the time for paragraplia had arrived, and one 
ftppeared stating tliat a discovery Lad taken place of the 
means by which an unfounded and preposterous account of 
the converaion of a distinguished young English nobleman 
at Rome bad been invented and circulated, and would pro- 
bably furuiah tho occasion for an action for libel. And now 

^liis return and appearauiM at the Chapel Royal next 

^KBnnday will clench tho whole businoas.' 



4JS 



LOTH AIR. 



' And lie was satisfied P ' 

* Host sabtaSed ; a Utile saiiooB whether hia penotil 
frienda, nnd particularly the BrenUiam family, were b*- 
Hored of the truth. Ud ti-avelled homQ with the Dalce'i 
BOO acid Lord St. Alde);oiide ; but they came from remote 
parts, aud their news from home was not very reueaU' 

' And how does he look P ' 

' Very well ; never saw biro look better. He is hRndsomBT 
than hu was. But he ia changed. I conld not conceive in 
■ year that anyone could be so changed. He was yonug 
for his years ; he is now old for his years. He was, in fact, 
a boy J he ia now a mau ; aud yet it is only a year. He 
■aid it seemed to him tan.' 

' He has been throngh a fiery fiimace,' said Apollonia, 

'Well, he has borne it well,' said Mr. Giles. 'It iB 
worth while serving such a client, so cordial, so &a&k, and 
yet so full of thought. Ho Bays he does not in the least 
rc^^t all the money he has wasted. Had he remained at 
home, it would hare gone to building a catliedral.' 

' And a Popish one ! ' eaid Apollonia. ' 1 cannot agres 
with him,' she continued, ' that his Italian campaign waa ft 
waste of money. It will bear &ait. We shall still see 
the end of the " ahomi nation of desolation." * 

' Very likely,' eaid Mr. Giles; ' but 1 trust my eliont will 
have no more to do with snch queations either way.' 

' And did he ask after hia friends ? ' said Apollonia. 

' Very mnoh ; he aakcd after yon. I think ho woni 
through all the guests at Muriel Towers except the poor 
Campiaus. He spoke to me about the Colonel, lo whom 
it appears he has written ; bat Theodora be never men- 
tioned, eicojit by some periphrasis, some allnsioo to a great 
sorrow, or to some dear ft-ieud whom he had lost. He seems 
a httle embarrassed about the St. Jeromes, and said more 
tlian once that he owed his life to Mi^a AmndeL He dwelt 
a good deal upon this. Ho asked also a great deal about 



LOTH AIR. 427 

lllia Brantliatii fnmilj. They seem the people whom be 
PtaiOBt aSecta. When I told liim cF Ladj Corisande'H up- 
proachidg nuon with the Duke of Brecon, I did not think 
he balf liked it.' 
' But ia it settled ? ' 

' The siune as. The Duke has been with me two hoora 
3-d&y aboat hia arrangcinerita. He ha« proposed to the 
|lBrenta, who are delighted with the match, and haB re- 
eived every encouragement from t!iB young lady. He 
)oks upon it aa certain.' 
'I wish our kind friend had not gone abroad,' eaid ApoU 

Well, at any rate, he has come back,' aaid Mr. Giles ; 
that is something. I am sure I more than once never 
!cted to see him again.' 

He has every virtue and every charm,' said Apnllonia, 

land principles that are now proved. I sball never forget 

Bs at the Towera. I wiab he were settled For life. 

lot who ia worthy of him ? I hope he will not fall into 

clutches of ttiat Popisli girl, I have sometimes. From 

hat 1 observed at Muriel and other reasons, a dread mia> 



CHAPTER LSXXI. 



T woe the first nigbt tbat Lothair bad slept in hia own 
, and, when be awoke ia the morning, he was quite 
dored, and tliongbt lor a moment he was in the 

•silajiio Agostini. He bad not repoaed in so spacious and 
inmbcr since he was at K^me. And tbis bronght 

ill his recollection to bis Roman life, and everything tbal 

■id happened there. 'And yet, after all,' be said, ' had it 
been For Clare Arundel, I ehoiild never have seen 

iaricl Honao. I owe to her my life.' His relationa with 



428 LOTH AIR. 



the St Jerome fiamily were doubtleas embarrassingy eTen 
painful; and yet his tender and ansceptible nature eonld 
not for a moment tolerate that he should passivelj submit 
to an estrangement from those who had conferred on him 
so much kindness, and whose ill-considered and injurioiis 
courses, as he now esteemed them, were perhaps, and pro- 
bably, influenced and inspired by exalted, even sacred 
motives. 

He wondered whether they were in London ; and if so^ 
what should he dot Should he call, or should he write 1 
He wished he could do something to show to Miss Arundel 
how much he appreciated her kindness, and how grateful 
he was. She was a fine creature, and all her errors were 
noble ones: enthusiasm, energy, devotion to a sublime 
cause. Errors, but are these errors) Are they not, oq 
the contrary, qualities which should command admiration 
in any one t and in a woman and a beautiful woman, more 
than admiration 1 

There is always something to worry you« It comes as 
regularly as sunrise. Here was Lothair under his own 
roof again, after strange and trying vicissitudes, with his 
health restored, his youth little diminished, with some 
strange memories and many sweet ones; on the whole, 
once more in great prosperity, and yet his mind har|)ed 
only on one vexing thought, and that was his painful and 
perplexed relations with the St. Jerome family. 

His thoughts were a little distracted from this harassing 
theme by the novelty of his house and the pleasure it gave 
him. He admired the double staircase and the somewhat 
heavy yet richly carved ceilings ; and the look into the 
park, shadowy and green, with a rich summer sun and the 
palace in the distance. What an agreeable contrast to his 
hard noisy sojourn in a bran-new, brobdignagian hotel, as 
was his coarse fate when he was launched into London 
life. This made him think of many comforts for which he 



LOTH AIR. 



429 



ht to be gratefbl ; and then he remembered Mnriel 
twere, Rod how completely and capitally everytliing was 
there prepared and appointed ) and while he was thinking 
over all this and tundly of the chief author of these satis- 
factory nirnugements, and the iiiat-ances in which that in- 
diridnal hod shown, not merely professional dexterity and 
devotion, bat some of the higher qnalitiea that make life 
Bweet and pleasant, Mr. Putney Giles was announced, and 
Lothair sprang forward and gave him his hand with a 
cordiality which repaid at onco that perfect but large- 
hearted lawyer for all his oxertionR, and some ansietiea 
that he had never espressed even to Apollonia. 

Nothing in life is more remarkable than the unnecessary 
anxiety which we endure, and generally occasion ourselves. 
Between four and five o'clock, having concluded hia long 
Terence with Mr. Putney Giles, Lothair, as if he were 
iversing the principal street of a foreign town, or rather 
tip-too like a prince in some enchanted castle, 
ventured to walk down St. Jamea's Street, and the very 
first person he met was Lord St. Jerome ! 

Nothing could be more unaffectedly hearty than his 
greeting by that good man and thorough gentleman. ' I 
■Bw by the " Post " you had arrived,' said Lord St. Jerome, 
' and we wore all saying at breakfast how glad we should 
be to see you again. And looking so well. Quite your- 
self I I never saw yon looking betl«r. Too have been to 
Egypt with Lord St. Aldegonde, I think P It was the 
wisest thing you could do. I said to Gertrude when you 
went to Sicily, " If I were Lothair, I would go a good deal 
farther than Sicily.' Yon wanted change of scene and air, 
jsaore than any man I know.' 

And how are they all ? ' said Lothair ; ' my first visit 
be to them." 
' And they will be delighted to see yon. Lady St. Jerome 
disposed ; a cold caught at one of her bozoarB, 



Betwi 
^bonfei 
^pavei 
Kreadi 



ftriU 
^pal 



4:o LOTH AIR. 



Bhe win hold them, and thej say that no one ever Bella so 
much. Bat still, aa I often say, my dear Gertrade, would 
it not be better if I were to give yon a cheque for the institu- 
tion ; it would be the same to them, and would save you t 
great deal of trouble. But she fancies her presence in- 
spires others, and perhaps there is something in iL' 
' I doubt not ; and Miss Arundel ? ' 

* Clare is quite well, and I am hurrying home now to 
ride with her. I shall tell her that you asked after her.' 

' And offer her my kindest remembranoes.' 

'What a relief! ' exclaimed Lothaar when once more 
alone. ' I thought I should have sunk into the earth when 
ho first addressed me, and now I would not have missed 
this meeting for any consideration.' 

Ho had not the courage to go into White's. He wa« 
under a vague impression that the whole population of the 
metropolis, and especially those who reside in the sacred land 
bounded on the one side by Piccadilly and on the other by 
Pall Mall, were unceasingly talking of his scrapes and mis- 
adventures ; but he met Lord Carisbrooke and Mr. Brance- 
peth. 

' Ah I Lothair,' said Carisbrooke ; ' I do not think we 
have seen you this season ; certainly not since Easter. 
What have you been doing with yourself? ' 

• You have been in Egypt ? ' said Mr. Brancepeth. * The 
Duke was mentioning at Wliite's to-day that you had re- 
turned with his son and Lord St. Aldegonde.' 

• And does it pay ? ' enquired Carisbrooke. ' Egypt ? 
What I have found generally in this sort of thing is, Ihat 
one hardly knows what to do with one's evenings.' 

'There is something in that,' said Lothair, ' and perhaps 
it applies to other countries besides Egypt. However, 
though it is true I did return with St. Aldegondo and 
Bertram, I have myself not been to Egypt.' 

* And where did you pick them up?' 



' At Jflnualeui.' 

em! What on eaiili oonld they go to Jem- 

satem for ? ' Baid Loitl Carisbrooke. ' I am told there ia 

DO sort of sport there. They say, in the Upper Nile, there 

is good shooting.' 

L 'St. Aldegonde wan disappointed. iBnpposeonrconntry- 

Haen have disturbed the crooodiles and frightened away 

f&e pelicaoB ? ' 

• We were going to look in at WIiit«'B ; come with hb.' 

Lothair was greeted with general kindneas ; bnt nobody 
seemed aware that be had been long and anuBuolly absent 
&om tbem. Some had tbemaelvea not come up to town 
till after Eaater, and bad therefore less caose to misn him. 
The great majority, however, WL=ro so engrossed with 
themselves that tbey never missed anybody. The Duke of 
Brecon appealed to Lothair about Botuetbing that had hap- 
pened at the last Derby, and was under the imprension, 
nntil belter informed, that Lothair had been one of his 
party. There were some eiceptiona to this genera) unac- 
qnaintance with events which an hour before Lotliair had 
. fearfully engrossed society. Hugo Bobuu waa 

nibly charmed to see him, ' becanse we were all in a 
e day that they were going to make yoa a cardinal, 
kn<) it tamed ont that, at the veiy time they said you were 
about to enter the conulave, yon happened to be at the 
■econd cataract. What licH these newspapers do tell ! ' 

But the cbmai of relief was reached when the noble and 
prey-headed patron of the arte in Great Britain approached 
him with polished beoignity, and said, ' I can give you 
perhaps even later news than you can give me of onr 
friends at Jerusalem. I had a letter &om Kladame PhoefaiiB 
this morning, and she mentioned with great regret that 
yoa had jnst left them. Your first ti'avela, I believe F ' 

' My arst.' 

'And wisely placard. Yoa weru right in starling oul 



432 LOTH AIR. 



and seeiiig the distant parts. One may not ttlwajm liaTe 
the energy which each an expedition reqoirea. Yon can 
keep Italy for a later and calmer day.' 

ThnSy one by one, all the oerolean demons of the morn 
had vanished, and Lothair had nothing to worry him. He 
felt a little dnll as the dinner hour approached. Bertram 
was to dine at home, and then go to the Honse of Com- 
mons; St. Aldegonde concluding the day with the same 
catastrophe, had in the most immoral manner, in the 
interval, g^ne to the play to see ' School,' of which he had 
read an account in ' Gkdignani ' when he was in quarantine. 
Lothair was so displeased with this unfeeling conduct oo 
his part that he declined to accompany him: but Ladj 
St. Aldegonde, who dined at Grecy House, defended her 
husband, and thought it very right and reasonable that 
one so fond of the drama as he, who had been so long 
deprived of gratifying his taste in that respect, should 
take the first opportunity of enjoying this innocent amuse- 
ment. A solitary dinner at Muriel House, in one of those 
spacious and lofly chambers, rather appalled Lothair, and 
he was getting low again, remembering nothing but his 
sorrows, when Mr. Pinto came up to him and said, ' The 
impromptu is always successful in life; you cannot be 
engaged to dinner, for everybody believes you are at 
Jericho. What say you to dining with me? Less than 
the Muses and more than the Graces, certainly, if yon 
come. Lady Beatrice has invited herself, and she is to 
pick up a lady, and I was to look out for a couple of 
agreeable men. Hugo is coming, and you will complete 
the charm.' 

' The spell then is complete,' said Lothair ; ' I suppose a 
lato eight.' 



CHAPTER LXXXn. 

IjOTBIIB wm breakfaatiiig alone on the morrow, when his 
servEuit ftDroanced the arrival of Mr. Baby, who had been 
ordered to be in attendance. 

' Show liim up,' said Lothair, ' and bring me the deapatch- 
boi which is in my dressing-room.' 

Mr. Rahy was deeply gratitied to bo again in tha 
preaecce of a nobleman so eminently distinguished, both 
for his property and bin taste, as Lotheir. He was profose 
in hia con^ratnlations to bis Lordship on his return to hia 
D&tive land, while at the aamo time he was opening a bag, 
from which he cxtraotcd a variety of beautiful objects, 
none of them for sale, all executed coinmissiona, which 
were destined to adorn the fortunate and the fair. ' Thia 
lo lovely, my Lord, quite new, for the Queen of Madagascar ; 
for the Empress this, Her Majesty's own design, at least 
almost. Iiady Melton's bridal necklace, and my Lord's 
George, the last given by King Jamns II. ; broken np 
during the Revolation, bnt re-set by na from an old draw- 
ing with picked stones.' 

'Very pretty,' said Lothair; 'but it ia not exactly thin 
Bort of thing that I want. See,' and ho opened the 
despatch-box, and took from out of itacrncifix. It was 
made of some Eastern wood, inlaid with mother-of-pearl ; 
tha Sgnre carved in brass, Ihongh not without power, and 
at the end of each of the four terminations of the crons 
B small CBvi^ cuclosiDg something, and covered nitJi 



' continued l/uthair, ' IJiis 
ritii a carved shell to each pilgrii 
olchre. Wit,hiB tlicsa (< 



B criKtfix, given 
visits the Holy 
9 earth from tba 



434 LOTH AIR. 



four holj places : Calvary, Sion, Beihlehem, and Oethse- 
mane. Now what I want it a crooifix, Bomeihing of this 
dimension, bat made of the most oostlj materials ; the 
tigare must be of pore gold ; I should like the cross to he 
of choice emeralds, which I am told are now more precioDi 
even than brilliants, and I wish the earth of the sacred 
places to be removed from this cmcifix, and introdnoed in 
a similar manner into the one which yon are to make ; and 
each cavity mnst be covered with a slit diamond. Do yon 
understand ? * 

* I follow you, my Lord,' said Mr. Ruby, with glistening 
eyes. ' It wiU be a rare jewel. Is there to be a limit ai 
to the cost ? ' 

*None but such aa taste and propriety suggest,* said 
fiothair. *You will of course make a drawing and an 
ctohmate, and send them to me; but I desire despatch.' 

Wlien Mr. Ruby had retired, Lothair took from the 
despatch-box a sealed packet, and looked at it for some 
moments, and then pressed it to his lips. 

In the aftemoou, Lothair found himself again in the 
saddle, and was riding about London, as if he had never 
quitted it. lie left his cards at Crecy House, and many 
other houses, and he called at the St. Jeromes late, but 
Basked it' they were at home. He had i-eckoned that they 
would not be, and his reckoning was right. It was im- 
possible to conceal from himself that it was a relief. Mr. 
Putney Giles dined alono with Lothair this evening, and 
they talked over many things ; among others the approach 
ing marriage of Lady Corisande with the Duke of Brecon. 

* Everybody marries except myself,* said Lothair rather 
peevishly. 

* But your Lordship is too young to think of that yet,* 
aid Mr. Putney Giles. 

* I feel very old,' said Lothair. 

At this moment there arrived a note from BertnuUi 



LOTHAIR. 435 

lying liis Tuotlier was quito emrprised aod disappointed 
lat Lothair had not aekcd to eee hor in tiie morDing, 
She had expected him as a matter of course at luncheon, 
id begged that he would come on the morrow. 
' I have had man^ pleasant hmcheons in that house,' 
,id Ixithair, 'but this will be the last. When all the 
daughters are married nobody eats Innchcon.' 

That would hardly apply to this Family,' said Mr. 
Pntoey Giles, whn always affected to know everything, and 
generally did. 'Tiiey are so united, that I fancy tho 
fitmoaa Inncheons at Crecy HonKe will always go on, and 
be a popular mode of their all meeting.' 

I half agree with St. Aldegpndo,' said Lothair grum- 
bling to himaeif, ' tliat if one ia to meet that DnJce o( 
every day at luncheon, for my part I had rather 
liny away.' 
In the coarse of the evening there aldo arrived invita- 
iQs to all tho impending balls and aesemblics for Lolhair, 
there seemed little prospect of his again being forced 
dine with bis faithful solicitor as a refuge from misliui* 
.„Iy. 

On tho morrow he went in bis hrougbam to Crecy 
Onae, and he had each e palpitatiim of the heart when he 
arrived, tliat for a moment be absolutely thought he must 
YCtire. His mind was full of JiTU.VLlem, the Mount of 
Olires, and tho Sea of Galilee. He was never nervous 
tbon, never ag;itat*?d, never harassed, no palpitations of tho 
iieart, no dread suKpeii'to. There was repose alike of body 
fcnd sool. Why did he over leave Palestine and Paraclete? 
should have remained in Syria for ever, clierishing in a 
hallowed scoue a hallowed sorrow, of which even the 
^ttemess was e^talted and ennobling. 

He stood for a moment in the great ball at Crocy House, 
■nd the groom of the clianiherH in vain solioitfid his atten- 
t was aEtooiahing how much passed through hia 



436 



LOTHAIR. 



mind while tba great clock h&rdljr deacribed sixtj Bocond*. 
But in that space be hnd reviewed hia life, airiTed (it the 
conclusion that ftll woa vanity and bitterness, that lie had 
foiled in evcrjtliing, mas misplaced, bad no object and do 
hope, and that a diatant and anbroken aolitade in some 
scene where eiUiur the majesty of nature waa OTcrwhelming 
or ita moral associations were equally sablime, most be hit 
only refuge. In the meditation of tbe Costnos, or in tbs 
dirine revorie of saored lands, the bnrthea of existence 
might be endured. 

■ Her Grace is at lunclioon, my Lord,' at length stud tha 
groom of the chambers, and Lothair was ushered into tha 
f(a,y and festive and cordial scene. Tbe nnmber of the idf- 
invited gaeets alone saved htm. His confusion «ras abK>> 
lute, and the Duchess remarked afterwards that Lothaii 
seeiDcd to have regained all his sbjme&s. 

When Lotbair had rallied and conid survey the aoene, )» 
fonnd he was sitting by his hostess ; that the Dnk«, not ■ 
luncheon man, was present, and, as it turned oat afterwards, 
fur the plensnre of meeting Lothair. Bertram also wm 
present, and several married daughters, and Lord MouU 
airy, and Captain Mildmay, and one or two others ; and next 
to Lady Corisande was the Duke of Bri<con. 

So far as Iiothair was concerned, the luncheon was nnaoo- 
cessM. His conversational powers deserted bim. He an- 
swered in monosyllables, and never originated a remark. 
He was greatly relieved when they rose and returned to the 
gallery in which tliey seemed all disposed to linger. Tha 
Duke approached bim, and in his mood he found it easier to 
talk to men than to women. Male conversation ia of t 
coarser grain, and does not require so mnch play of thonghi 
and manner : discourse about Sues Canal, and Arab hoiTSes, 
and pipes and pachas, can be carried on witLont any psycho- 
lo^cal effort, and by degrees banishes all sensibility. And 
jDt ha was rather dreamy, talked better than he Ustonod, 



did not look his companion in the face as the Dulcn apoke, 
which was hia custom, and his eye was wandering. Sud- 
denly, Bertram having joined them and speaking to his 
btlier, Lothair ilarted away and approached Lady Corisande, 
whom Lady Montairy had just quitted. 

' As I may never have tho opportanity again,' said Lo- 
thair, ' let me thank yon, Lady Corisande, for some kind 
thoughts which yon deigned to bestow on mo in my ab- 
Bence.' 

Hia look was serions ; hia tone almost sad. Neither was 
in keeping with the scene and tho apparent occasion ; and 
Lady Coriaande, not displeased, but troubled, murmured, 
' Since I last met you, I heard yon had seen much and saf- 
fered much." 

' And that makes the kind thoughts of friends more 
precioUB,' said Lothair. ' J have few : your brother ia tho 
chief, but even he never did mo any kindnoas so great 
BB when he told me that you had spoken of me with 
aympathj.' 

'Bertram's friends are mine,' said Lady Coriaande, 'but, 
otherwise, it would be impossible for ns all not to feel an 

interest in , one of whom we had seen so much,' Rho 

added with some liesitation. 

' Ah 1 Brentham ! ' said Lothair, ' dear Brentbam ! Do 
you remember once saying to me that you hoped yon should 
Dever leave Brentham F ' 

' Did I say so F ' snid Lndy CoriHande. 

'1 wish I had never left Brentham,' said Ijothair; 'it 
was the happiest time of my life. I had not then a sorrow 
or a care.' 

' But everybody baa sorrows and carea,' said Ijady Cori- 
nude ; 'you have, however, a great many things which 
OOfht to make you happy.' 

' I do not deserve to be happy,' said Lothair, ' for I 
nade ao many mistakes. My only consolation is 



438 



LOTHAIR. 



that DDC great error wlucb ;on moat deprecated I lure 
escaped.' 

' T&ke a brighter and a nobler view of your life," aajd 
Lady CoHBaode ; ' feel rather yon hare been tried and 
not fonnd wauting.' 

At this moment the Dachess approached them and intsr^ 
ruptcd their canversation ; and soon after thia Lotiiair laft 
Grecy liuuse, stitl moody kit less despoudent. 

There was a ball at Lady Clanmorne's in the erenii^, 
and Lothpjr was present He waa astonl'ihed at tbemunbef 
of new faces he saw, the new phmaes he heard, the new 
ft^hions ftlike in dress and manner. Ue ooold not beliere 
it was tiie same world that ho had qaittod only a year ago. 
He was glad to take refnge with Hugo Bohnn as with m 
old friend, and coald not refrain from expressing la 
that eminent person his surprise at the novelty of all 
aronnd him. 

' It is you, my dear Lothair,' replied Hugo, 'that ia waX' 
prising, not the world ; that has only developed in yonrah- 
sence. What coold have induced a man like you to be avray 
for a whole season from the scone ! Onr forefiithera miglil 
afford to travel ; the world was then storootyped. It will 
not do to be out of sight now. It is very well for St. Aldtv 
gonde to do these things, for the great object of St. Alde- 
gonde b nut to be in society, and he has never succeeded in 
his object. But he™ is the new beauty.' 

There was a stir and a sensation. Men made fmj and 
even women retreated ; and, leaning on the arm of Lord 
Gariabrooke, in an exqoisite costnme that happily displayed 
her splendid fignre, and radiant with many charms, swept 
by a lady of commanding mien and statnre, eelf-possessed 
and even grave, when suddenly turning her hood, ber pretty 
face broke into enchanting dimples as she exclaimed, * ! 
cousin Lothair ! ' 

See, the beautiful giantesses of Afnriel Towera had be- 



J 



LOTHAIR. 



439 



oom« tie beaatioB of the aomoTi, Tbcir success had 
been as saddea and immediate aa it was complete and 
Bustained. 

' Well, ihia is stranger than all ! ' suid Latbair to Hugo 
Bohun when Lady Flora bad poesed on. 

' The only persona talked of,' said Hngo. ' I am proud 
my previona acquaintance with tUern. I tliink Caris- 
s serious thoughta ; bat lliere are some who prefeF 
ly Grizell." 
Lady Corisaude was your idol last season,' said Lo- 



Ob t she is out of the running,' said Hngo ; ' sbe is 

But I have not heard yet of any day being fixed, 
wonder when ha marrieB whether Biecon will keep on 
IB theatre.' 
' TTia theatre ! ' 

'Yes; the high mode now for a real swell is to hare a 
loatre. Brecon haa the Frolic ; Kate Simmons is his 
anager, who calls herself Atbab'e de Montfort. Yon 
>gbl to have a theatro, Lothair ; and it' there is not onoto 
ire, yon should build one. It would show that you wei-a 
ITe again and hikd the spirit of an Engli.iji noble, aiidaUtno 
r some of your eccentricities.' 

'But I have no Kato Simmons who calls herself A Ihiilio 
i Montfort,' said Lothair ; ' I am not so favonred, Hugo, 
[owerer, I might succeed Brecon, as I hardly suppose he 
Ql mainta-in snch an establishment when he is marricid.' 
' I beg your pardon," rojoiued Hugo. ' It is the thing 
sreral of our greatest swells hare theatres and are mar- 
In fact, a first-rate man should have everything, and 
fore he ought to have both a theatre and a wife.' 
' Well, I do not think your manners have improved since 
it year, or your morals,' said Lotbnii. '1 have half a 
ind to go down to Muriel, and shut myself up there.' 
Uo walked away and saimtcroil into the ball-room. The 



440 LOTHAIR. 



ftrsi forms he rtcogniaed were Lftdy Gonsaiide wiKzing 
with the Dnke of Brecon, who was renowned for this 
accomplishment. The heart of Lothair felt hitter. He 
rememhered his stroll to the daiiy with the Duchess at 
Brentham, and their conversation. Had his views then 
been acceded to how different wonld have been his lot! 
And it was not his fanlt that they had been rejected. And 
jet, had they been accomplished, would they have been 
happy? The character of Gorisande, according to her 
mother, was not then formed, nor easily scrutable. Was it 
formed now ? and what were its bent and genius P And 
his own character P It could not be denied that his mind 
was somewhat crude then, and his general conclusions on 
life and duty hardly sufficiently matured and developed to 
ofi^r a basis for domestic happiness on which one might 
confidently depend. 

And Theodora ? Had he married then he should never 
have known Theodora. In this bright saloon, amid the 
gaiety of festive music, and surrounded by gliding forms 
of elegance and brilliancy, his heart was full of anguish 
when he thought of Theodora. To have known such 
a woman and to have lost her! Why should a man 
live after this ? Yes ; he would retire to Muriel, once 
hallowed by her presence, and he would raise to her 
memory some monumental fane, beyond the dreams even 
of Artemisia, and which should commemorate alike her 
wondrous life and wondrous mind. 

A beautiful hand was extended to him, and a &ir face, 
animated with intelligence, welcomed him without a word. 
It was Lady St. Jerome. Lothair bowed lowly and touched 
her hand with his lip. 

*Iwas sorry to have missed you yesterday. We had 
gone down to Yauxe for the day, but I heard of you from 
my Lord with great pleasure. We are all of us so happy 
that you have entirely recovered your health.' 



LOTHAIR. 441 

* I owe tbat to yon, dearest lady,' aaid Lothair, ' and to 
tfaoRe tmder joar roor. 1 can nerer forget your goodneas 
to roe. Bad it not been for jo«, I sliould not have been 
here or anywhere else' 

' No, no 1 we did our best for the moment. Bui I quite 
a^ree with my Lord, now, that you sUiyed too long at 
Roma under the circumstances. It was a good move, tliat 
going to Sicily, and bo wise of yon to travel in Egypt. 
Men should travel.' 

* I have not been to Egypt,' ewd Lothair ; ' 1 liave been 
to the Holy Land, and am a pilgrim. I wish you would 
l«ll MisB Arundel that I eIuJI ask her permiaaion to pre.ient 
her with my crucifix, which contains tlie earth of the Holy 
Places. I should have told her Lhis myself, if 1 had seen 

^her yesterday. Is she here ? ' 

^^L ' She ie at Tauxe ; she could not tear herself away from 

I^B *B°t she might have brought them with her as com- 
l< pftnioDB,' Eaid Lothair, 'as you have, I appi-ohcnd, yoorself.' 

' I will give you this in Clare'e name,' said Lady St. 
Jerome, as she selected a beautiful flower and presented it 
to Lothair. * It is in return for your crucifix, which I am 
sure she will highly esteem. I only wish it were a rose of 
Jericho.' 

Lothair started. The name brought np strange and 
disturbing associations : the procession in the Jesaiti' 
Church, the lighted tapers, tiie consecrated children, one 
of whom had been supematu rally presented with the 
flower in question. There was an awkwnrd silence, until 
Lothair, almost witliout intending it, expressed a hope 
that the Cardinal waa well. 

'Immersed in affairs, but I hope well,' replied Lady St. 
Jerome. 'You kuow what has happened ? But you will 
•ee bim. He will speak to yon of these matters himself.' 

* But I flhoold hko also to hear from you.' 



I 442 LOTH AIR. 

' * Well, ihej are scaroelj yet to be spoken of^* said Lidj 

' St. Jerome. * I onght not perhaps even to haye aUnded to 
' the subject ; but I know hovr deeply devoted yon are to 
I religion. We are on the eve of the greatest event of this 
i oentory. When I wake in the morning, I always hncj 
I that I have heard of it only in dreams. And many, all this 
j room, will not believe in the possibility of its happening. 
I They smile when the oontingency is alluded to, and if I 
J were not present they would mock. But it will happen, I 
am assured it will happen,' exclaimed Lady 8t. Jerome, 
speaking with earnestness, though in a hushed voice. * And 
no human imagination can calculate or conceive what may 
be its effect on the destiny of the human race.' 
* You excite my utmost curiosity,' said Lothair. 
' Hush ! there are listeners. But we shall soon meet 
again. You will come and see us, and soon. Gome down 
to Vauxe on Saturday ; the Cardinal wiU be there. And 
the place is so lovely now. I always say Vauxe at Whit- 
suntide, or a little later, is a scene for Shakespeare. Yon 
know you always liked Vauxe.' 

*More than liked it,' said Lothair; 'I have passed at 
Vauxe some of the happiest hours of my life.' 



CHAPTER LXXXm. 



On the morning of the very Saturday on which Lothair was 
to pay his visit to Vauxe, riding in the park, he was joined 
by that polialied and venerable nobleman who presides over 
the destinies of art in Great Britain. This distingruisbed 
person had taken rather a fancy to Lothair, and liked to 
talk to him about the Phoobus family; about the great 
artist himself, and all his theories and styles ; but espedally 



LOTHAIR. 



443 



about tlie fascinating Madtime Phoebns aud tho captivatiiig 
Euphroayne, 

' You have not found time, I daro eay,' said the nobleman, 
' to visit the exhibition of the Boyal Academy ? ' 

' Well, 1 have only been here a week,' said Lothair, ' and 
have had so many thi;>gs to ihiuk uf, aud so many persona 
to see.' 

'Nator&Ily,' eaid the noblemtui; ' but I rocommend yoa 
to go. I am now about to loako my fiftb visit there ; but 
it is only to a single picture, and 1 envy its owner.' 

' Indeed ! ' said Lothair. ' Pi-ay telJ me its subject, thai 
I may not feil to see it.' 

' It is a portrait,' Baid the nobleman ; ' only a portrait, 
■ume would say, as if tho finest pictures in the world were 
not only portraits. Tbe masterpieces of the English school 
tin portraits, and some day when yon have leisure and in- 
clination, and visit Italy, yoa will see portraits by Titian and 
Raffaalle and others, nhk-h are the masterpieces of art. 
Well, the pietnro in question is a portrait by a young En- 
glish painter at Rome and of an English lady. I doubt not 
the subject was equal to the genius of the artist, but I do 
not think that the modem pencil has produced anything 
equal to it, both in desiyin and colour and expres.sion. You 
should Bee it by all means, and I have that opinion of your 
taat« that I do not think you will be content by seeing it 
once. The real taste for fine art in this country is proved 
by the crowd that always surrounds that picture ; and yet 
only a portrait of an Enjjlish lady, a Miss Ai-undol.' 

' A Mii<B Anindel ? ' said Lothair. 

'Yob. of a Roman Catholic family; 1 believe a relative of 
the St. Jeromes. They wore at Rome last year, when thia 
portrait was executed.' 

'If you will permit me,' said Lotbur, 'I should like to 
ftoooinpany yoa to tho Academy. I am going oat of towa 
afternoon, bat not far, and could manage it.* 



E 



444 LOTHAIR. 



So ihej w«ni toftUier. It mm tiie ksi edbibitioii of As 
AoadeiDj in TraiiJgar Sqnairs. The porinii in qiuftkn 
mm in the large room, and hnng on the eye line ; ao, aa tiie 
throng about it waa great| it waa not eai^ immediately to 
inapect it. Bat one or two 'EL.Am who were gliding aboat^ 
and who looked npon the noble patron of art aa a wofii of 
diTinity, insensibly oontrolled the crowd, and aecored for 
their friend and hia companion the opportaniiy which thej 
desired. 

' It ia the finest thing since the portrait of the Cenc!,' 
said the noble patron. 

The painter had represented Ifiss Anmdel in her robe of 
a sister of mercy, bat with nncovered head. A wallet was 
at her side, and she held a cracifix. Her beantifiil eyes, 
fall of mystic devotion, met those of the spectator with a 
fiuscinating power that kept many spell-boand. In tbe 
backgroand of the pictare was a masterly glimpse of ihe 
papal gardens and tbe wondroos dome. 

^That most be a great woman,' said the noble patron 
of art 

Loihair nodded assent in silence. 

The crowd abont the pictare seemed breathless and awe- 
strack. There were many women, and in some eyes there 
were tears. 

' I shall go home,' said one of the spectators ; * I do not 
wish to see anything else.' 

^ That is religion,' marmared her companion. * They may 
say what they like, bat it woald be well for as if we were 
all like her.' 

It was a short half hoar by the railroad to Vaaze, and 
the station was close to the park gates. The snn was in its 
I last hoar when Lothair arriyed, bat he was captiyated by 
the beaaty of the scene, which he had never witnessed in 
its sammer splendoar. The rich foliage of the great 
avenaes, the immense oaks that stood alone, the deer 



LOTH AIR. 

planciiig in tho golden U^fat, and the quaint and Blatel; 
edifice itself, so finiehed and so fair, with its freestone pin- 
DftcleB ajid ita gUded vanea gliBtening sTid spiu-kliog in the 
warm and Incid sky, contrasted with the chilly honra wben 
the Cardinal and himself had Si-st strolled together in that 
pork, and vrben they tried to flatter themselves that tho 
morning mist clinging to the skeleton trees was perhaps 
the burst of spring. 

Lolbair fonnd himself again in hia old rooms, and as hia 
vaJet unpacked hia toiletto, he fell into one of his reveries. 

■ What,' he thought to himself, ' if life after all be only > 
dream. I can scarcely realise what is going on. It sesma 
to me I have passed throagh a year of visions. That I 
should be at Vauxe again 1 A roof I once thought rife 
with my destiny. And perhaps it may prove so. And 
were it not for the memory of one erent, I should be a ship 
without a rudder.' 

There were several gnests in the house, and when Lo- 
thair entered the drawing-room, he was glad to find that it 
was rather full. The Cardinal was by the side of Lady 
St. Jerome when Lothair entered, and immediately after 
saluttDg hia hoatesa it was his duty to addreaa hia late 
guardian. Lothair had looked forward to this meeting with 
ap prehension. It seemed impossible that it shonld not to a 
certain degree be annoying. Nothing of the kind. It WM 
impossible to greet him more cordially, more aCTectionately 
than did Cardinal Grandison. 

'Yon have seen a great deal since we parUd,' said the 
Cardinal. * Nothing could be wiser than your travelling, 
Yoa remember that at Muriel I recommended yon t« go to 
Egypt, but I thought it better that you should see Borne 
first. And it answered ; you made the acquaintance of its 
eminoat men, men whose names will be soon in everybody's 
month, for before ajiother year elapses Rome will be the 
oynoBore of the world. Then, when the great qncationa 




446 LOTH AIR. 



oome on which will decide ihe &te of th« hnman raoe flbr 
oontnries, joa will feel the inestiiiiable adyantage of heing 
master of the mtnatioxif and that yon are fiMnilJM* wikh 
every place and every individual. I think yon were not vwy 
well at Rome ; bat next time you mnat choose yonr season. 
However, I may congratulate you on your present looks. 
The air of the Levant seems to have agreed with jaa.* 

Dinner was annoanced almost at this moment, and Lo- 
thair, who had to take out Lady ClanmorDO, had no oppor- 
tunity before dinner of addressing anyone else except his 
hostess and the Cardinal. The dinner party wna large, and 
it took some time to reconnoitre all the guests. Tjptli^r 
observed Miss Arundel, who was distant from him and on 
the same side of the table, but neither Monsig^ore Catesby 
nor Father Coleman was present. 

Lady Clanmorne chatted agreeably. She was content to 
talk, and did not insist on conversational reciprocity. She 
was a pure freetrader in gossip. This rather suited Lothair. 
It pleased Lady Clanmorne to-day to dilate upon marriage 
and the married state, but especially on all her acquaint- 
ances, male and female, who were meditating the surrender 
of their liberty and about to secure the happiness of their 
lives. 

' I suppose the wedding of the season, the wedding of 
weddings, will be the Duke of Brecon's,' she said. * But 
I do not hear of any day being fixed.* 

' Ah ! * said Lothair, ' I have been abroad and am very 
deficient in these matters. But I was travelling with the 
lady's brother, and he has never yet told me that his sister 
was going to be married.' 

'There is no doubt about that,' said Lady Clanmorne. 
* The Duchess said to a friend of mine the other day, who 
congratulated her, " that there was no person in whom she 
should have more confidence as a son-in-law than the 
Duke." ' 



Bn^i 



LOTHAIR. 447 

' Most marriages torn ont unhappy,' said Lotbair, rotier 

Oh ! my dear Lord, what can yon mean p ' 
Well I think so,' he said doggedly. ' Among the lower 
if we mny jadge from the newspapers, they are 
always killing their wives, and io our clasa we get rid 
of them in a more polished way, or they get rid of us,' 

' Ton quite aatomsh me with such aeutiiueuta,' said IJady 
Clntunorne. ' What would Lady St. Jerome think if ebe 
heard you, who kild me f he other dny that she believed you 
to be a faultless character? And the Duchess too, your 
Fnond's mamma, who thinks you so goc"l. &n<l that it ia ao 
fartQtmte for her son to have snch a companion P ' 

' As for Lady St. Jerome, she believes in everything,' 
•aid Lotbair ; * and it is no compliment that she beliovca in 
me. Aa for my friend's mamma, her ideal character, ac- 
cording to yoa, is the Duke of Brecon, and I cannot pre- 
tend to compete with him. He may pleoae the DuoheBS, 

|b I camiot say the Duke of Brecon is a sort of man I 

ffiire.' 

' Well, he is no great favourite of mine,' said Lady Clan- 
'I think him overbearing and selfish, and I ehonld 
^t like at all to be liia wife." 

* What do you think of Lady Corisando ? ' said Lothair. 

' I admire her more than any girl in society, and I think 
she will be tlirown away on the Duke of Brecon. She ia 
clever and she has strong cliaracter, and, I am told, ia ca- 
pable of great alToctiona. Her manners are good, Enished 
and natural ; and she is beloved by her young friends, 
witieh I alwnys think a test.' 

' Do you think her handsome P ' 

' There can be no qnestioo about that : she is beautiAi], 
ud her beaaty is of a high clofis. I admire her much more 
than alJ her sisters. She has a grander mien.' 
^L 'Have yoa seen Miss Arundel's picture al ihuAcademyF' 



448 LOTH AIR. 



* Syerjbodj has seen that: it has made a fary* 

* I heard an eminent judge say to-dajy that it ma the 
portrait of one who mnst he a great woman.* 

* Well, Miss Anmdel is a remarkable person.' 
' Do you admire her P * 

* I have heard first-rate critics say that there was no per. 
son to be compared to Miss AmndeL And nnqnestionaUy 
it is a most striking oonntenance : that profound brow and 
those large deep eyes ; and then her figure is so fine. Bnt^ 
to tell you the truth, Miss Arundel is a person I never 
oould make out.' 

* I wonder she does not marry,' said Lothair. 

* She is very difficult,' said Lady Glanmome. ' Perhaps, 
too, she is of your opinion about marriage.' 

' I have a good mind to ask her after dinner whether she 
is,' said Lothair. ' I fancy she would not marry a Pro- 
testant ? ' 

* I am no judge of such matters,' said Lady Clanmome ; 
'only I cannot help thinking that there would be more 
chance of a happy marriage when both were of the same 
religion.' 

* I wish we were all of the same religion. Do not you ?' 

* Well, that depends a little on what the religion might 
be.' 

* Ah ! ' sighed Lothair, ' what between religion and mar- 
riage and some other things, it appears to me one never 
has a tranquil moment. I wonder what religious school 
the Duke of Brecon belongs to ? Very high and dry, I 
should think.' 

The moment the gentlemen returned to the drawing- 
room Lothair singled out Miss Arundel, and attached him- 
self to her. 

' I have been to see your portrait to-day,' he said. She 
changed colour. 

* I think it,' he contiDued, ' the triumph of modem art, 



/ 



Hnd I oould not easily fix on an; production of tbe old mas- 
tore tliat exi^ela !t,' 

' It was painted at Eome,' she said in B. low \oice. 

' So I understood. I regret that when I was at Homo I 
saw so little of iU art. But my health yoa know was 
wretched. Indeed, if it had not been for aomo triends, I 
might Bay for one friend, I should not have been here or in 
tliia world. I can never express to that person my grati- 
tude, and it increases every day. All that I have dreamed 
of angels was then realised.' 

' Ton think too kindly of us." 

' Did Lady St. Jerome give yon my message about the 
earth from the holy places which I had placed in a crncifix, 
and which I hope you will accept from mo, in remembrance 
of the past and yonr Christian kindness hi me ? I should 
have lelt it at St. James's Square before this, bnt it re< 
quired some little arrangement after its travels.' 

* 1 sliall prize it most dearly, both on account of ite con> 
seorated character and for the donor's sake, whom I bavfl 
ever wished to see the champion of our Master.' 
^— ' Ton never had a wish, I am sore,' aatd Lotbair, ' that 
^■■fM not anbluoe and pure.' 



CHAPTER LXXXrV. 



Thbt breakfasted at Vauxo, in the long gallery. It wns 
^ways a merry meal, and it was the fashion of the house 
that all should be present. The Cardinal was seldom ab- 
sent. He used to say, ' I feel more on equal terms with my 
friends at breakfast, and rather look forward to my banquet 
of dry toast.' Lord St. Jerome was quite proud of recoiv- 
a letters and newspapers at Vau«e earlier by far than 
1 at St James's Square i and as all were supplied 



450 



LOTH AIR. 



with Ibeir lett«n and junnuls, tlierc waa a great demand 
for news, and a proportional circalatioQ of it. I^dy Clan- 
mome indutged this possiun for gossip amosingl^ odb 
morning, and read a letter frooj her correspondent, written 
with the getee of a Sevigne, but which coutalaed details of 
warriages, elopements, and a murder among their intimato 
■cqtuuntiuice, which made all the re&l intflligcnce qaltr 
insipid, and waa credited for at least half an hour. 

The galleTj atVaozewas of great length, and the break' 
fast-tabte was laid at one end of it. The gallery was of 
pnneltod oak, with windows of stiuned gloss in tJie Qppei 
panes, and the ceiling, richljr and beavily carved, was ea- 
tirely gilt, but with deadened ^Id. Though atatelj, tie 
general eSect was not &ee from a certain chonict^r oF 
gloom. Lit, as it was, bj sconces, this was at night mnch 
Bofl«ned ; bot on a rich aninmer mom, the gravity and re- 
pose of tliis noble chamber were gralefnl to the senses. 

The breakfast was over ; the ladies had retired, atealinir 
off with the 'Morning Post,' the gentlemen grailiiallj' di*- 
appearing for the sukco of thuir cigars. The Curdiaal, wltn 
was couTersing with Lotbair, continued their conversation 
while walking np and down tho gnJtery, far bora tlie hear- 
ing of the sorviuiis, who were diaombarra.'wing the brcak- 
fuiit-table, atid preparing it for luncheon. A risit to a 
cotintry hoasc, as Pinto says, is a series of meab mitigattd 
by thu new dresaes of tho ladies. 

'The more I ri'Eect on your travcU,' said the Cardinal, 
' the more I am satisfied with what has bappunod. I re- 
cognise die hand of Providence in your preliminary visit to 
Rome and your enbaequenl one to Jumsalcm. In the vast 
events which arc impeuding, that man is in a strong posi. 
tion who Una mode a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchi-e. 
Ton remember our walk in the park here,' continnod tlia 
Cardinal ; * I fi.It then that we were on the eve of aone 
mighty change, but it woa then indefinite, though to me 




LOTHAIR. 431 

TitAble. Yon wore destined, I was porauaded, lo witiioaa 
i, even, as I hoped, to take no inconaiderable ihare in its 
fulfilment But I hardlj believed that I should have been 
eparod for this transcendent day, a,nd when it is consnm- 
^inated, 1 wilJ gratefnlly eiclaim, " Nunc me dimittis ! " ' 
^L 'YoD allndu, sir, to siime important matter which Lady 
^^Bt, Jerome a lew days ago iutiinat«d to me, bnt it was only 
Bpa intimation, and purposely very TBgue.' 

'There is no doubt,' said the Cardinal, apealdng with 
Bolenmity, ' of what I dow communicate to jou. The Holy 
Father, Pius IX., has resolved to sommon an CLcumemcal 
^^onncil.' 

^B 'As (Ecumenical Council!' said Lothair. 
^V ' It is a weak phrase,' resumed the Cardinal, ' to aay it 
Will be the gi'Btttost event of this ceutary, I believe it will 
be the greatest event since the Episcopate of St. Peter; 
greater, in its consequeuces to the human race, than the 
fell of the Boman Empire, the pseu do- Be formation, or the 
Berolutiou of France. It is much more than three hnn- 
dred years since the Ia.st CEcumenical Council, the Council 
of Trent, and the world still vibi'ates with its decisions. 
Bttt the Council of Trent, compared with tho impending 
CoonciJ of the Vntican, will be as tho mediaival world ot 
Europe compared with the vast and complete globe which 
man has since discovered and mastered.' 
' Indeed I ' said Lothair. 

'Why the very assembly of the Fathers of the Church 

yviU astonod the Freemasons, and the Secret Societies, and 

B Atheists, That alone will bo a demonstration of power 

p the part of tho Holy Father which no conqueror from 

Mtris to Napoleon has ever equalled. It was only llio 

shops of Euro|ie that assembled at Trent, and, inspired 

f the Hplj Spirit, their decisions have governed man for 

) than three hundred years. Bat now the bishops of 

whole world will Bssemble ronnd the chair of St. Petec, 



4Sa 



LOTH AIR. 



ftud prove \jj their preaence Uie catholii; chAracler of tbc 
Olinrcb. Asia will send its patriarchs and pontiFs, and 
America and Australia its prelates ; and at home, tay dear 
jonng friend, the Cotmcil of tlie Vadcaii will offer a strik- 
ing contract to the CouncU of Trent; Great Britain will be 
powerfully represented. The bishops of Ireland mighl 
have been counted on, bnt it is England also tliat will send 
her prelates now, and some of them will take no ordinary 
Bhare in transactions that will give a new form and coloni 
bo human existence.' 

* Is it tme, sir, that the object of the Council is to de- 
clare the infallibility of the Pope ? ' 

' In matters of faith and morals,* said the Cardinnl 
quickly. ' There is no other infallibility. That is a eeciet 
with God. All that we can know of the decision of iho 
Cooncil on this awful heud is tliat its decision, inspired 
by the Holy Spirit, must infalbbly be right. We mast 
ftwait that dcciBion, and, when made known, we most 
embrace it, not only with obedience, bnt with the in- 
terior asBcnt of mind and will. But there are other 
rcHulta of the Conncil on which we may Epeculale; and 
wliicli, 1 believe, it will ceilainly accompUsb : first, it will 
Bhow in a manner that cannot be mistaken that there is 
only one alternative for the human intellect: RationaUem 
or Faith; and, secondly, it will eifaibit to the Christiui 
powers the inevitable future they are now preparing fis 



' I am among the faithbl,* said Lothair. 

' Then yoa must be a member of the Church Catholic,' 
said the CardinaL * The basis on which God has willed 
that Uis revelation should rest in the world is the testi- 
mony of the Catholic Church, which, if considered only as 
a honmn and historical witneas, aflbrda the highest And 
most certain evidence fur the fact and the contents of 
Christian religion. If this be denied, there ts 



°i^H 



LOTH AIR. 



455 



QuDg at; bistoiy. Bat the Catholic Ctrnrch is not onlj ft 
Imman and bistoricHl witness of its own origin, constitn- 
tion, and authority, it is also a enpemataral and divine 
witnesa, which can neither fail nor err. When it cecnme- 
nically speaks, it is not merely the voiue of the Fathers of 
the world ; it declares what " it hath seemed good to the 
Holy Ghost and to ns." ' 

There was a pause, and then Lothair remarked ; ' Ton 
Baid, sir, that the Council woald show to the civil powers 
of the Christian world the inovitahle future they are pre- 
paring for themselves ? ' 

[ven BO. Now mai'k this, my child. At the Council 
of Trent the Christian powers were represented, and pro- 
perly BO, Their seats will be empty at the Council of the 
Vatican. What does that moan ? The separation between 
Church and State, talked of for a long time, now demon- 
strated. And wliat does separation between Church and 
State mean ? That society is no longer consecrated. The 
Stvil governments of the world no longer profess to be 
Catholic. Tlie faithful indeed among their subjoota will 
be represented at the CouncU by their pastors, but tha 
civil powers have separated thomselves from the Chnrch; 
«ther by royal edict, or legialative enactment, or revolu- 
tionaiy changes, they have abolished the legal statns of the 
Catholic Church within their tcnitory. It is not their 
ohoice ; they are urged on by an invisible power that is 
an ti- Christ] an, and which is the true, natuj-al, and impla- 
cable enemy of (he one visible and universal Church. The 
coming anarchy is called progress, because Jt advances 
klong the lino of dt-porture from the old Christian order of 
the world. Christendom was the oflspring of the Christian 
bmily, and the foundation of the Christian family is the 
■acrament of matrimony, the spring of all domestic and 
public morals. The anti-Christian societies are opposed to 
the principle of homo. When they have destroyed the 



454 LOTH AIR. 



hearfch, the moralitj of aooiety will perish. A setileiimt 
in the fonndatioiis maj be slow in sinking, but it brings til 
down at last The next step in de-Christianising the poii> 
tioal life of nations is to establish national education with* 
oat Christianity. This is systematicallj aimed at wherever 
the revolntion has its way. The period and policy of 
Julian are returning. Some think this bodes ill for the 
Church ; no, it is the State that will suffer. The Secret 
Societies are hurrying the civil governments of the world, 
and mostly the governments who disbelieve in their 
existence, to the brink of a precipice, over which monar- 
chies and law and civil order will ultimately fiJl and perish 
together.' 

* Then all is hopeless,' said Lothair. 

* To human speculation,' said the Cardinal ; ' but none 
can fathom the mysteries of Divine interposition. This 
coming Council may save society, and on that I would 
speak to you most earnestly. His Holiness has resolved 
to invite the schismatic priesthoods to attend it and laboui 
to bring about the unity of Christendom. He will send an 
ambassador to the Patriarch of the heresy of Photius, which 
is called the Greek Church. He will approach Lambeth. 
I have little hope of the latter, though there is more than 
one of the Anglican bishops who revere the memory and 
example of Laud. But I by no means despair of your 
communion being present in some form at the Council. 

I There are true spirits at Oxford who sigh for unity. They 
vrill form, I hope, a considerable deputation ; but as, not 
yet being prelates, they cannot take their seats formally in 
the Council, I wish, in order to increase and assert their 
influence, that they should be accompanied by a band of 
powerful laymen, who shall represent the pious and pure 
mind of England, the coming gfuardians of the land in the 
dark hour that may be at hand. Considering your previous 
knowledge of Rome, your acquaintance with its eminent 



a and its language, and coDBidering too, aa I well know, 
t the Holy FBther looks to joa aa one marked out by 
Providence to assert the truth, it woald please me, and, 









I, and pcrhap: 



) you to vibit Rome 
put your mark i 



1 this s 

B world's history." 

' It must yet be a long time before the Cooncil meeta,' 
ud Lotbair, after a paaae. , 

'Not too long for preparation,' replied the CardinaL 

' From tbia hour, niiti! ita assembling, the pulse of humanity 

will tbrob. Even at this hour they are speaking of the 

pome matters as onrselves alike on the Euphrates and the 

H|b, Lawrence. The good Catesby is in Ireland, conferring 

^^■ritb the bishops, and awakening tbem to the occasioo. 

^^^here ta a party among them narrow-minded and local, 

I the eflects of their education. There ought not to be an 

Irish priest who was not brought up at the Propaganda, 

Yon know that admirable institation. We had some happy 

bonrs at Rome together, may wo soon repeat tbnm 1 Yon 

were very unwell there ; neat time you will judge of Roma 

in health and vigonr.' 

I 

^Hgonbted. What is more certain are the sorrow and per- 
plexity which sometimes, without a warning and prepara- 
tion, suddenly fall upon a family livicg in a world of 
happinoBS and case, and monling thuir felidty by every 

irI disposition. 
I Perhaps there nerer was a circle that enjoyed life more, 
d deserved to enjoy life more, than the Bruntham family. 
« family more admired and less envied. Nobody 



CHAPTEB, liXXXV. 



4S6 LOTHAIR. 



gmdged them their happj gifts and moddeadBf for iheii 
dememnaoT was so winning, and their manners so cordial 
and sympathetic^ that ereryone fAt as if he shared their 
amiable proeperitj. And yet^ at this moment^ the DachesB, 
whoee coantenanoe was always as serene as her sonl, was 
walking with disturbed visage and agitated step up sad 
down the private room of the Dnke ; while his Ghnoe, 
seated, his bead upon bis arm, and with bis eyes on the 
groand, was apparently in anxious thought. 

Now what had happened P It seems that these excel- 
lent parents had become acquainted, almost at the same 
moment, with two astounding and disturbing hucks : theii 
non wanted to many Enphrosyne Cantacuzene, and their 
daughter would not marry the Duke of Brecon. 

* I was so perfectly unprepared for the communication,* 
said the Duke, looking up, ' that I have no doubt I did not 
express myself as I ought to have done. But I do not 
think I said anything wrong. I showed surprise, sorrow ; 
DO anger. I was careful not to say anything to hurt his 
feelings ; that is a great point in these matters : nothing 
disrespectful of the young lady. I invited him to speak to 
me again about it when I had a little got over my surprise.' 

' It is really a catastrophe,' exclaimed the Duchess ; 
*and only think I came to you for sympathy in my 
sorrow, which, afler all, though distressing, is only a 
mortification ! * 

' I am very sorry about Brecon,' said the Duke, ' who is 
a man of honour, and who would have suited us very well ; 
but, my dear Augusta, I never took exactly the same view of 
this affair as you did : I was never satisfied that Gorisande 
returned his evident, I might say avowed, admiration of 
her.' 

* She spoke of him always with great respect,' said the 
Duchess, 'and that is much in a girl of Corisande's dis- 
position. I never heard her speak of any of her admirers 
In the same tone ; certainly not of Lord Carisbrooke ; I 




K 



was qnite prepiirod for her re;jcction of him. SLe Dover 
enconrageJ hba.' 

' Well,' said the Dnke, ' I grant you it is mortifying;, 
infinitely diatressing ; and Brecon is the last man I coolJ 
bare wisLcd that it should occnr to ; but, aft^r all, onr 
daughter vmet decide far herself in ench afiaii'e. She is 
tlie person most interested lu the event. I never influ- 
enced her Eisl^TB in their choice, and ahe also must be &ae. 
The other subject is more grave." 

' If we could only ascertain who she really is,' said the 
DnchcBS. 

'According to Bertram, fully onr eqaal ; but I confeBS I 
am no judge of Levantine nobilily,' his Grace added, with a 
mingled eipresaion of pride and despair. 

That dreadftil travelling abroad!' esclaimed theDnchesa, 

I always had a foreboding of eometbing disastrous from 

Why should he have gone abroad, who has never been 

Ireland, or seen half the counties of his own country P ' 

'They all will go,' said the Duke ; ' and I thought, with 
St. Aldegonde, he was safe from getting into any scrape of 
this kind.' 

' I should tike to speak to Granville abont it,' said the 
Duchess. ' WTjen ho is sorious, his judgment is good.' 

' I am to see St. Aldegonde before I speak to Bertram,' 
said the Doke. ' I should not be surprised if be were here 
immediately,' 

One of the social mysteries is, ' how things get about 1 ' 
It was not the infflrest of any of the persons immediately 
connected with the subject that Booiety should be aware 
that the Lady Corisande had declined the proposal of the 
Dnko of Brecon. Society had no right even to assmne 
that such a proposal was either expected or contemplated. 
The Duiie of Brecon admired Lady Corisando, so did 
many others ; and many others were admired by ^e 
Uuko of Brecon. The Dnchoss even hoped that, as the 
seiMion was waning, it might break up, and people go into 



458 LOTH AIR. 



OiB ooimtrj or abroad, and nothing be obsenred. And 
jet it * got abont.' The way things get abont ia throagh 
the Hugo Bohona. Nothing escapes their quick eyes and 
slow hearts. Their mission ia to peer into society, ILka 
professional astronomers ever on the watch to detect the 
slightest change in the phenomena. Never embarrassed 
by any passion of their own, and their only social 
scheming being to maintain their transcendent position, 
all their life and energy are devoted to the discoveiy of 
what is taking place aroond them ; and experience, com- 
bined with natural tact, invests them with almost a super- 
natural skill in the detection of social secrets. And so it 
happened that scarcely a week had passed before Hagn 
began to sniff the air, and then to make fine observadoiui 
at balls, as to whom certain persons danced with, or did 
not dance with ; and then be began the curious process of 
what he called putting two and two together, and putting 
two and two together proved in about a fortnight that it 
was all up between Lady Corisande and the Duke of Brecon. 

Among others he imparted this information to Lothair, 
and it set Lothair a- thinking ; and he went to a ball that 
evening solely with the purpose of making social observa- 
tions like Hugo Bohun. But Lady Corisande was not 
there, though the Duke of Brecon was, apparently in high 
spirits, and waltzing laore than once with Lady Ghrizell 
Falkirk. Lothair was not very fortunate in his attempts 
to see Bertram. He called more than once at Crecy 
House too, but in vain. The fact is, Bertram was natu- 
rally entirely engrossed with his own difficulties, and the 
Duchess, harassed and mortified, could no longer be at 
home in the morning. 

Her Grace, however, evinced the just appreciation ol 
character for which women are remarkable, in the confi- 
dence which she reposed in the good sense of Lord St. 
Aldegonde at this crisis. St. Aldcgonde was the only one 




of hia 8oiiB-m-]ftw whom the Duke rcnlly coiif>idercd &nd ft 
little feared. When St. Aldegonde was Berions, his iufla- 
ence ovsr men was powerful, Acd he was serious now. 
St, Aldegonde, wlio was not conventional, had made the 
Rcrinaintance of Mr.Cantacazeno immediately on hia return 
to England, and they had become frieuds. lie had dtiied 
in the Tybnniian palace of the descendant of the Greek 
Emperors more thau once, and had determined to make his 
second son, who was only four years of age, a Greek mer- 
chant. When the Dake therefore consulted him on ' the 
catastrophe,' St, Aldegonde took high groand, spoke of 
Enphrosyne in the way she deserved, as one equal to an 
elevated social position, and deserving it. ' But if yoo 
ask me my opinion, sir,' he continued, 'I do not think, 
except for Bertram's sake, that you have any cause to fret 
yourself. The family wish her to marry her cousin, the 
eldest son of the Prince of Saraos. It ia an alliance of the 
highest, and suits them much better than any connection 
with na, Besides, Cantacuzene will give hia children large 
fortunes, and they like the money to remain in the family. 
A bnudred or a hundred and fifty thousand pounds, per- 
bftpe more, goes a great way on the coasts of Asia Minor 
Yon might buy np half the Archipeli^o. The Cnntacn- 
senes are coming to dine with us next week. Bertha ia 
delighted with them. Mr. Cantacuscne is so kind as to 
say he will take Clovis into his counting-house. I wish 1 
could indnce your Grace to come and meet him : then yon 
could judge for yourself. Yon woald not be in the least 
shocked were Bertram to many the daughter of some of 
onr great merchants or bankers. This is a great mer- 
Lnd banker, and the descendant of princes, and his 
mghtor one of the most beantiful and gifted of women, 

worthy to be a princess.' 
'There is a good deal in what St. Aldegonde says,' said 
s Duke afterwards to bis wife. ' The aCTair takes raihei 



r 



i 460 LOTH AIR. 



a different aspeot. It appean they are really people of 
I high oonfiideratioii, and great wealth too. Nobody oonld 
! describe them as adyentorers.' 

* We might gain a litUe time,' said the Dncbesa. * I dis- 
like peremptory decisions. It is a pity we have not an 
opporhmity of seeing the yonng lady.' 

' Granville says she is the most beantifol woman he ever 
met, except her sister.' 

' That is the artist's wife P ' said the Dachees. 

* Yes, ' said the Duke ; * I beHeve a most distingaished 
man, bat it rather adds to the imbrogHo. Perhaps things 
may turn oat better than they first promised. The &ct is, 
I am more amazed than annoyed. Ghranville knows the 
father, it seems, intimately. He knows so many odd 
feople. He wants me to meet him at dinner. What do 
yea think about it ? It is a good thing sometimes to jndge 
for oneself. They say this Prince of Samos she is half 
betrothed to in attache to the Turkish Embassy at Vienna^ 
and is to visit England.' 

' My nervous system is quite shaken,' said the Duchess. 
' I wish we could all go to Brentham. I mentioned it to 
Corisande this morning, and I was surprised to find that 
she wished to remain in town.' 

* Well, we will decide nothing, my dear, in a hurry. St 
A.ldegonde says that, if we decide in that sense, he will under- 
take to break off the whole affair. We may rely on that. We 
need consider the business only with reference to Bertram's 
happiness and feelings. This is an important issue no 
doubt, but it is a limited one. The business is not of so 
disagreeable a nature as it seemed. It is not an affair of a 
rash engagement in a discreditable quarter from which he 
cannot extricate himself. There is no doubt they are 
thoroughly reputable people, and will sanction nothing 
which is not decorous and honourable. St. Aldegonde has 
been a comfort to me in this matter ; and yon will find out 



LOTHAIR. 461 

% great deal nben jon Bpeak to bim abont it. Tilings 
might be wtn^e. I wish I was as easy about the Duke 
of Brecon. 1 met him this momlng and rode with him, to 
shioir Uiere «u no change in my U 



CHAPTER T^?;XXV1. 

Tsi world goes on with its aching hearts and its smiling 
&ces, and very often, when a year has revolved, the world 
finds ont there was no sufficient cause for the sorrotre or 
the smiles. There is much nnnecessary anxiety in the 
world, which ia apt too hastily to calculate the conse- 
quences of any nnforescou event, quite forgetting that, acnto 
as it is in observation, tiio world, where the fature is con- 
cerned, is generally wrong. The Duchess would have liked 
lo bniy herself in the shades of Brentham, but Lady Cori- 
lande, who dejiorted herself as if there were no core at 
Crecy Houso eacept that occasioned by her brother's rash 
engagement, was of opinion that ' Mamma wonid only 
brood over this vexation in the country,' and that it would 
be much better not to anticipate tho close of the waning 
season. So the Duchess and her lovely daughter wei-e seen 
everywhere where they ought to bo seen, and appeai-ed the 
pictun-B of serenity and satisfaction. 

As for Bertram's afl'air itself, nnder the manipulation of 
St. Aldegonde it began to assume a less anxious and more 
praoticable aspect. Tho Duke was desirous to secure his 
son's happiness, but wished nothing to be done rashly. If, 
for oiample, in a year's time or so, Bortnim continued In 
the same mind, his father would never be an obstacle to 
his well-considered wishes. In the meantime an oppor* 
tunity might offer of maV.ing the aoqaaijitanco of the young 
lady and her friends. 




462 LOTH AIR. 

And in the meantiine the world went on, dancing and 
betting and banqueting, and making speechesy and bceak- 
ing hearts and heads, till the time aniTed when BocaaJ 
Btook ia taken, the reanlta of the campaign estimated and 
ascertained, and the dark question asked, * Where do you 
think of going this year ? ' 

*We shall certainly winter at Borne,' said Lady St 
Jerome to Lady Clanmome, who was paying a morn- 
ing visit. * I wish you could induce Lord Clanmome to 
join us.' 

*• I wish so too,' said the lady, * but that is impossible. 
He never will give up his hunting.* 

* I am sure there are more foxes in the Campagna than 
at Yauxe,' said Lady St Jerome. 

' I suppose you havo heard of what they call the double 
event P ' said Lady Clanmome. 

* No.' 

* Well, it is quite true ; Mr. Bohun told me last nighty 
and be always knows everything.' 

' Everything ! ' said Lady St Jerome ; ' but what is it 
that he knows now P ' 

' Both the Ladies Falkirk are to be married, and on the 
same day.' 

' But to whom P ' 

' Whom should you think P ' 

' I will not even guess/ said Lady St. Jerome. 

'Clare,' she said to Miss Arundel, who was engaged 
apart, ' you always find out conundrums. Lady Clanmome 
has got some news for us. Lady Flora Falkirk and her 
sister are going to be married, and on the same day. And 
to whom, think you ? ' 

'Well, I should think that somebody has made Lord 
Carisbrooke a happy man,' said Miss ArundeL 

'Very good,' said Lady Clanmome. 'I think Lady 
Flora will make an excellent Lady Carisbrooke. He is not 



te as tall as she ia, bat he it 
I^dy OrizelL' 
' My powers of divination ar 
idel. 



quite exliaustjsd,' §aid Uiai 



WeU, I wilt not keep yon in BOBpenBe,' eaid Tjidy Clftn- 
me. ' Liidy Griiell is to bo Duchess of Brecon." 
Duchess of Brecon ! ' eTclaimed both Misa Arundel and 
Uul; St, Jerome. 
' 1 always admired the ladios,' said Mias Arnndel. ' We 
et tfaem at a country hoase last year, and I thought them 
pleasing in every way, artless and yet piquant j but I did 
not anticipate their fate being so soon sealed. 
* And 80 briltiiiDtly,' added Lady St. Jerome, 
' Ton met them at Muriel Towers,' said I^dy Clan- 
morne. ' I heard of yoa there : a most distinguished party. 
There was an American lady there, was there not ? a 
charming person, who sang and acted, and did all sorta of 
things.' 

Bs ; there was. I believe, however, she wad an 
EbtlJan, married to an American.' 
' Have yoQ seen much of your host at Muriel Towers ? ' 
kid Ifidy Clanmome. 

' We see him freqnently,' said Lady St. Jerome. 
' Ab ! yea, I remember ; I mot him at Vanxc Ibe other 
day. Ee is a great admirer of yonrs,' Lady Clanmome 
added, addressing Miss Arundel. 

Oh 1 we are friends, and have long been so,' aoid Misa 
-Arundel, and she left the room. 

Clare does not recognise admirers,' said Lady St. Jeromu 
p»vely. 

' I liopv tho ccclosinstical fancy ia not reviving,' eald Lrwly 
Sonmome. ' I was half in hopes thnt the lord of Muriel 
'owers might have deprived the Church of its bride.' 
' That could never be,' said Lady St Jerome ; ' though, 
if it could have been, a source of happiness to Lord St 



464 LOTH AIR. 

Jerome and mysolf would not have been wanting. We 
groatlj regard onr IririHTnan, bat betvreen onraelves,* added 
Ladj St. Jerome in a low voioe, * it was snppoaed that he 
was attached to the American ladj of whom yoa wen 
upeaking/ 

' And where is she now P ' 

* I have heard nothing of late. Lothair was in Italy at 
the same time as onrselyes, and was ill there, nnder our 
roof; BO we saw a great deal of him. Afterwards he tra- 
velled for his health, and has now jnst returned firom the ■ 
East.' ' 

A visitor was annonnced, and Ladj Clanmome retiredi 

Nothing happens as 7011 expect On his voyage home 
Tiothair had indulged in dreams of renewing his intimacy 
at Grecy House, around whose hearth aU his sympathies 
were prepared to cluster. The first shock to this romance 
was the news he received of the impending union of Lady 
Gorisande with the Duke of Brecon. And what with this 
unexpected obstacle to intimacy, and the domestic embar- 
rassments occasioned by Bertram's declaration, he had 
become a stranger to a roof which had so filled his 
thoughts. It seemed to him that he could not enter the 
house either as the admirer of the daughter or as the friend 
of her brother. She was probably engaged to another, and 
as Bertram's friend and fellow-traveller, ho fancied he was 
looked upon by the family as one who had in some degree 
contributed to their mortification. Much of this was imagi- 
nary, but Lothair was very sensitive, and the result was 
that he ceased to call at Grecy House, and for some time 
kept aloof from the Dachess and her daughter, when be 
met them in general society. He was glad to hear from 
Boriram and St. Aldcgonde that the position of the former 
was beginning to soften at home, and that the sharpness of 
his announcement was passing away. And when he had 
dearly ascertained that the contemplated union of Lady 



I 

L 



LOTH AIR. 



46s 



Coris&nde with the Dnko was cerbunl; not to take ptua, 
Lothair began to reconnoitre, and try lo resume his original 

position. But his reception woa not enconraging, at least 
not aufEcieatly cordiiii for one who by nature waa retiring 
anrl reserved. Lady CoriBande waa always kind, and afler 
some time he danced with hor again. But there wore no 
inyilations to Itmoheon from tho Dacheas ; they never 
aaked him to dinner. His approaches were received with 
conrtesy, but he waa not courted. 

The annonncement of the marriage of the Dnke of 
Brecon did not, apparently, in any degree distress Lady 
Corisande. On tho contrary, she expresaed much eatiafac- 
tioa at her two yoang friends settling in life with such 
sncccss and splendour. The ambition both of Lady Flora 
and Ifidy Grizell was that Coriaando should be a brides- 
maid. Tbia would be a rather awkward poat to occupy 
nnder the circnmstaiiceB, so she embraced both, and said 
that she loved them both so equally, that she would not 
give a preference to either, and therefore, though she cer- 
tainly would attend their weddings, she would refrain 
from taking part in the ceremony. 

The Duchess wont with Lady Corisande one morning to 
Mr. Rnby'a to chooao a present from her daughter to each 
of the yoong ladies. Mr. Ruby in a back shop pottred 
forth bis treasures of bracelets, and rings, and lockets. The 
presents must be similar in value and in beauty, and yet 
there must be some difference between thorn ; so it was a. 
rather long and troublesome investigation, Mr. Uuby as 
usual varying ita monotony, or mitigating its wearisoma- 
ness, by occasionally, or anddcnly, exhibiting aome splendid 
or startling production of bis art. Tbepanireof an Empress, 
the bracelets of Grand- Duchesses, a wonderful fan that was 
to flutter in the bands of Majesty, bad all in due courae 
'ed, as well as the black pearls and yellow diamonds 






466 LOTH AIR. 



that figare and flash on snoh ocoaBionh, before eyes bo 
fayonred and so fidr. 

At last (for, like a prudent general, Mr. Bobj had 
always a great reserve), opening a ease, he said, ' There ! ' 
and displayed a cradfix of the most ezqnisite woifananship 
and the most preoions materials. 

* I have no hesitation in saying the rarest jewel which 
this oentnry has produced. See ! the figure by Monti ; a 
masterpiece. Eveiy emerald in the cross a picked stone. 
These comers, yonr Grace is aware,' said Mr. Bnby con- 
descendingly, 'contain the earth of the holy places «i 
Jemsalem. It has been shown to no one bat yonr Grace.' 

* It is indeed most rare and beaatifnl,' said the DnchesB, 
' and most interesting too, from containing the earth of tbo 
holy places. A conmiission, of course ? ' 

' From one of our most eminent patrons,' and then fie 
mentioned Lothair's name. 
Lady Gorisande looked agitated. 

* Not for himself' said Mr. Ruby. 
Lady Gorisande seemed relieved. 

' It is a present to a young lady, ]Miss Arundel.' 
Lady Gorisande changed colour, and turning away, 
walked towards a case of works of art, which was in the 
centre of the shop, and appeared to be engrossed in their 
examination. 



GHAPTER LXXXVIL 



A DAT or two after this adventure of the crucifix, Lothair 
met Bertram, who said to him, ' By the bye, If yon want to 
see my people before they leave town, you must call at 
once.' 

' You do not mean that,' replied Lothair, mnch surprised. 
' Why, the Duchess told me, only three or four days a^ 







that they should not leave town until the end of the first 
week of Angnat. They are going to the weddings.' 

' I do not know what my mother a^d to yon, my dear 
fellow, but they go to Brentham the day after to-morrow, 
and will not retnm. The Duchess bos been for a long 
time wishing this, bnt Corisande wonid stay. She thought 
they woold only bother themselves aboat my aSairs, and 
there was more distraction for thorn in town. Bat now 
they are going, and it is for Corisande they go. She is not 
well, and they have suddenly resolred to depart.' 

' Well, I am very sorry to hear it,' said Lothair j ' I shall 
oall at Crecy House. Do you think they will Bee me ? ' 

* Certain.' 

* And what are your plans ? ' 

' I have none,' said Bertram. ' I suppose I must not 
leave my father alone at this moment, He has behaved 
well ; very kindly, indeed. I have nothing to complain of. 
Bnt still all is vagae, and I feel somohow or other I ought 
to bo about him.' 

' Have you heard from our dear &ienda abroad F ' 

' Yes,' said Bertram, with a sigh, ' Eophrosyne writes to 
me ; but I believe St. Aldegondo knows more about their 
views and plans than I do. He and Mr. Phcebos correspond 
much, I wish to heaven they were here, or rather that wo 
wore with them,' he added, with another aigh. ' How 
bappy we all were at Jerusalem ! How I hate London ! 
Anil Brentham worse. I shall have to go to a lot of agri- 
cultural dinners and all sorts of things. The Duke oxpccta 
it, and I am bound now to do everything to please him 
What do you think of doing ? ' 

' I neither know nor care,' said Lothair, in a tone of 
great despondency, 

' You are a little hipped." 

'Not a little. I snpposo it is the excitement of tho lost 
two yean tbut has spoiled me for ordinary life. But I 



468 LOTH AIR. 



Gnd the whole thing utterly intolerable, and regret now 
that I did not rejoin the staff of the GeneraL I shall never 
have snch a chance again. It was a mistake ; bat one is 
bom to blonder.' 

Lothair called at Crecy House. The hall-porter was not 
sure whether tho Duchess was at home, and the groom of 
the chambers went to see. Lothair had never experienced 
this form. When tho groom of the chambers came down 
again, he gave her Grace's compliments, but she had a 
headache, and was obliged to lie down, and was sorry she 
could not see Lothair, who went away livid. 

Crecy House was only a few hundred yards from St. 
James's Square, and Lothair repaired to an accustomed 
haunt. He was not in a humour for society, and yet he 
required sympa4;hy. There were some painful associations 
with the St. Jerome family, and yet they had many 
charms. And the painful associations had been grcatlj 
removed by their easy and cordial reception of him, and 
the charms had been renewed and increased by subsequent 
intercourse. After all, they were the only people who had 
always been kind to him. And if they bad erred in a 
great particular, they had been animated by pure, and even 
sacred, motives. And had they erred ? Were not his 
present feelings of something approaching to desolation a 
fresh proof that the spirit of man can alone be sustained 
by higher relations than merely human ones ? So he 
knocked at the door, and Lady St. Jerome was at home. 
She had not a headache ; there were no mysterious whisper- 
ings between hall-porters and grooms of the chamber, to 
ascertain whether he was one of the initiated. Whether it 
were London or Vauxe, the eyes of the household proved 
that he was ever a welcome and cherished guest. 

Lady St. Jerome was alone, and rose from her writing- 
table to receive him. And then, for she was a lady who 
never lost a moment, she resumed some work, which did 




^4 oring 
H 'Wb 
Hmbsou 



Qot interfere witL. their couversatioii. Her taUiiug re 
eonrce§ were so happy acd inexhanstible, that it si^ified 
little tliiit her Tiaitor, who was bound in that chftracter to 
have something to say, was silent and moody. 

' My Lord,' she continued, ' has taken the Palazzo 
AgOHtiw for a term. I think we shoald alwaya pa^s our 
winters at Rome under any circumstaacea ; but (the Car- 
dinal has spoken to joa abont the great event) if that 
comea off, of which, between ourselves, whatever the 
world may say, I believe there ia no sort of doubt, we 
should not think of being absent from Rome for a day 
[4iiring the Council.' 

' Why ! it may last years,' said Lothair. ' There is no 
1 why it should not last as long as the Council of 
*Trent. It has in reality much more to do.' 

' We do things quicker now,' said Lady St, Jerome. 
• That depends on what there is to do. To revive faith 
is more diiScult than to create it.' 

' There will be no difficulty when the Church has 

assembled,' said Lady St. Jerome. ' This sight of the 

^^Sniveraal Fathers coming from the uttermost ends of the 

^Bteth to bear witness to the truth will at once sweep away 

^^^P the vain words and vainer thoughts of this unhappy 

^Bgeiitary. It will be what they call a great fact, dear 

Lothair ; and when the Holy Spirit descends upon their 

decrees, my firm belief is the whole world will rise as it 

were from a trance, and kneel before the divine tomb of 

■ St. Peter.' 

^H ' Well, we shall see,' said Lothair. 

^^ ' The Cardinal wishes yon very much to attend the 
Council. He wishes you to attend it as an Anglican, 
representing with a few others our laity. He says it wonld 
have the very beat ciTect for religion.' 
H 'He spoke to me,' 
^H ' And yon agreed to go F ' 



470 LOTH AIR. 

* I have not rcfiisod him. K I thought I oonld do ai^ 
good, I am not sure I would not go/ said Lothair; 'hut 
from what I have seen of the Eoman Court, there is little 
hope of reconciling our difierencee. Rome is stubbonL 
Now, look at the difficulties they make about the marriage 
of a Protestant and one of their own communion. It is 
cruel, and I think on their part unwise.' 

* The sacrament of marriage is of ineffable holiness,' said 
Lady St. Jerome. 

' I do not wish to deny that,' said Lothair, ' but I see no 
reason why I should not marry a Roman Catholic if 1 
liked, without the Roman Church interfering and entirely 
regulating my house and home.' 

* I wish you would speak to Father Coleman about this,' 
said Lady St. Jerome. 

'I have had much talk with Father Coleman about 
many things in my time,* said Lothair, 'but not about 
this. By the bye, have you any news of the Men- 
signore ? ' 

* He is in Lreland, arranging about the CBcumenical 
Council. They do not understand these matters there as 
well as we do in England, and his Holiness, by the 
Cardinal's advice, has sent the Monsignore to put things 
right.' 

' All the Father Colomans in the world cannot alter the 
state of affairs about mixed marriages,' said Lothair ; ' they 
can explain, but they cannot alter. I want change in this 
matter, and Rome never changes.' 

' It is impossible for the Church to change,' said Lady 
St. Jerome, * because it is Truth.' 

' Is Miss Arundel at home ? ' said Lothair. 

* I believe so,' said Lady St. Jerome. 

'I never see her now,' he said discontentedly. 'She 
never g^oes to balls, and she never rides. Except occasion- 
ally under this rooif she is invisible.' 



' Clare does not go any longer Into society,* said liodj 
L Jerome. 



'Why?' 



ret,' said Lady St. Jerome, with some 



istnrbance of cooutenance, and speaking i 



alo- 



'•at least, at present; and yet I c 






iwer tone ; 
aach a 



eiibject wish that there Rhonld be a secret from yon ; Clare 

is about to take the veil.' 
^^ ' Then I have rot a friend left in the world,' said 
^^^lOtbair, in a despatrisg tone. 

^B Lady St. Jerome looked at him with an anxious glance. 
H^TcB,' ahe continned, 'I do not wiBh to conceal it from 

yoo, that for a time we coold have wished it otherwise ; 

it h&s been, it is a trying event for mj Lord and myself; 

bat the predisposition, which was always strong, bas ended 

in a determination bo absolute, that we recognise tlie 

Divine purpose in her decision, and we bow to it.' 

' I do not bow to it," said Lothair ; ' I think it barbaron? 

'Hush! hnsh ! dear friend.' 
' And does the Cardinal approve of tliis step ? ' 
' Entirely.' 

' Then my conGdonco in him is cntiivly destroyed," said 
, Lothair. 

Ilr WAS August, and town was thinuing fast. Parliament 
stall lingered, but only for technical purposes ; the political 
itmggle of the session having terminated at the end of 
Jnly. One social event was yet to be consummated : the 
marri^es of Lotbair's consins. They wore to be married 
cm the same day, at the same time, and in the same plfcoe. 
yWestminstfli' Abbey was to bo tho scone, and as it wa» 



CHAPTER L XXXVIII. 



^Wee 



472 LOTH AIR. 



underotood that tiie serrice was to be chonl, great ezpecta- 
tiona of ecclesiastical splendour and effect were mnch anti- 
cipated by the fair sex. They were however doomed to dis- 
i^ipointment^ for although the day was fine, the attendance 
nnmeroos and brilliant beyond preoedent. Lord Cnlloden 
wonld have ' no popery.' Lord Garisbrooke, who was a 
ritnalist, mnnnnred, and was encouraged in his resistance 
by Lady Clanmome and a party, but as the Duke of Brecon 
was high and diy, there was a want of united action, and 
Lord Cnlloden had his way. 

After the ceremony, the world repaired to the mansion of 
Lord Cnlloden in Belgrave Square, to inspect the presents, 
and to partake of a dinner called a breakfiist. Cousin Lo- 
thair wandered about the rooms, and had the satis&ction of 
seeing a bracelet with a rare and splendid sapphire which 
he had given to Lady Flora, and a circlet of diamond stars 
which he had placed on the brow of the Duchess of Brecon. 
The St Aldegondes were the only members of the Brentham 
family who were present. St. Aldegonde had a taste for 
marriages and public executions, and Lady St. Aldegonde 
wandered about with Lothair, and pointed out to him Cori- 
sande's present to his cousins. 

* I never was more disappointed than by your family leav- 
ing town so early this year,' he said. 

* We were quite surprised.* 

* I am sorry to hear your sister is indisposed.' 

* Corisande ! she is perfectly weU.' 

' I hope the Duchess's headache is better,' said Lothair. 
* She could not receive me when I called to say fikrewell, 
because she had a headache.' 

* I never knew M ftmmA. have a headache,' said Lady Si 
Aldegonde. 

* I suppose you will be going to Brentham P * 

* Next week.' 

* And Bertram too P ' 



LOTH AIR. 



473 



' 1 fymey that we shall be all tbere.' 
' t soppose we may consider now that tha aeaaon is reallj 
STer?' 
' Yes 1 thej atajed for tliis. I should not he surprised if 

reeryone in tlieae rooms had disappeared by to-morrow.' 
' Kiccpt myself," said Lothair. 
' Do you think of going abroad again ? ' 
'One might as well go,' said Lothair, 'aa remain.' 
' I wish Granville would take me to Paris, It seema so 

odd not to have seen Paris, All I want is to see the new 

■treota and diue at a cafi;.' 

'Well, you have an object; that is something,' wiid Ijo- 

' Men have always objects,' said Lady St. AJdegonde, 
'They make bosiness when they have none, or it makes it- 
•elf. They move about, and it comes.' 

' I have moved about a great deal,' said Lothair, ' and no. 
Jiing has come to me bat disappointment. I think I shall 
ike to croquet, like that curious gentleman I remember at 
Brentham.' 

'Ah ! you remember everything.' 

' It is not easy to forget anything at Brentham,' said 
tiothair. ' It is just two years ago. That was a happy time.' 

' I doubt whether our re-aaaombling will bo quite as happy 
bifl year,' said Lady St. Aldogonde, in a serioua tone. ' This 
engagement of Bertram is an anxious business ; I never 
r Papa before really fret. And there are other things 
nrhiob are not without vexation ; at least to Mamma.' 

' I do not think I am a great favourit* of your Mamma,' 
Rid Lothair. ' She once used to be veij kind to me. but 
the ia so no longer.' 

' I am sure you mistake her,' said Lady St. Aldegonde, 
jut not in a tone which indicated any confidence in 

r remark. ' Mamma is anxious about my brother, and 
■11 that.' 



474 LOTH AIR. 



* I believe the Duchess thinks that I am in some way or 
other connected with this embarrassment ; but I really had 
nothing to do with it, thongh I ooold not refose my testi- 
mony to the charms of the yonng lady, and my belief she 
would make Bertram a happy man.' 

'As for that, you know, GranTille saw a great deal more 
of her, at least at Jerusalem, than you did, and he has said 
to Mamma a great deal more than you haye done.' 

' Yes ; but she thinks that had it not been for me, Ber- 
tram would never have known the Phoebus &mily. She 
ooold not conceal that from me, and it has poisoned her 
mind.' 

* Oh ! do not use such words.' 

* Yes ; but thoy are true. And your sister is prejudiced 
against me also.' 

' That I am sure she is not,' said Lady St. Aldegonde 
quickly. * Corisande was always your friend.' 

* Well, they refused to see me, when we may never meet 
again for months, perhaps for years,' said Lothair, * perhaps 
never.' 

* What shocking things you are saying, my dear Lord, 
to-day ! Hero, Lord Colloden wants you to return thanks 
for the bridesmaids. You must put on a merry fieice.' 

The dreary day at last arrived, and very quickly, when 
Lothair was the only person left in town. When there is 
nobody you know in London, the million that go about are 
only voiceless phantoms. Solitude in a city is a trance. 
The motion of the silent beings with whom you have no 
speech or sjrmpathy only makes the dreamlike existence 
more intense. It is not so in the countiy : the voices of 
nature are abundant, and from the hum of insects to the 
&11 of the avalanche, something is always talking to you. 

Lothair shrank from the streets. He could not endure 
Che dreary glare of St. James's and the desert sheen of 
Pall Mall. He could mount his horse in the Park, and soon 



LOTH AIR. 



47S 



Eoee himBelf in mburbftn roads that he once loved. Yea I it 
iraB irresistible ; acd he made a viat to Belmont. The hoaee 

dismantled, and the gardens shorn of their lustre ; bat 
stilt it WBJ there, TOry fair in the sunshine, and sanctified 
in his heart. He viaited eToryroom that he had frequented, 
and lingered in her boudoir. He did not forget the now 
empty pavilion, and he plucked some flowers that she once 
loved, and pressed them to his lips, and placed 'them near 
Hs heart. He felt cow what it was that made him un- 
happy : it was the want of sympathy. 

He walked through the Park to the residence ot Mr. 
PhcebuH, where he had directed his groom to meet him. Hia 
lieart boat as he wandered along, and hia eye was dim with 
tears. What characters and what scenes had he not Iiecome 
acquainted witli aince his first visit to Belmont ! Ard even 
DOW, when they had departed, or were absent, what influ- 
ence were they not eicrcising over hia life, and the life of 
those most intimate with him 1 Had it not been for hia 
pledge to Theodora, it was far from improbable that he 
would now have been a member of the Roman Catholic 
Ch'irch, and all his hopea at Breutham, and his intimacy 
with tbe family on wliich he bad most reckoned in life for 
permanent friendahip and support, (seemed to be marred 
and blighted by the witching eyes of that mirthful Eophro- 
Byne, whose mocking words on the moonlit terrace .tt Bel- 
mont first attracted his notice to her. And then, by as- 
sociation of ideas, he thought of tbe General, and what hia 
old commander had said at their laat interview, reminding 
him of hia fine castle, and expressing bis conviction that 
tbe lord of sucb a domain must have much to do. 

I will try to do it,' said Tyothair, 'and 1 will go down to 
Mnrid to-morrow.' 



476 



LOTHAIR. 



CHAPTER TiXXXIX. 

LoTHAiRy who was very sensible to the charms ot nanue, 
found at first relief in the beauties of Muriel. The season 
was propitious to the scene. August is a rich and leafy 
month, and the glades and avenues and stately trees of his 
parks and pleasaunces seemed at the same time to soothe 
and gladden his perturbed spirit. Muriel was still new to 
him, and there was much to examine and explore for the 
first time. He found a consolation also in the frequent re- 
membrance that these scenes had been known to those 
whom he loved. Often in the chamber, and often in the 
bower, their forms arose ; sometimes their voices lingered 
in his car ; a frolic laugh, or whispered words of kindness 
and enjoyment. Such a place as Muriel should always be 
so peopled. But that is impossible. One cannot always 
have the most agreeable people in the world assembled 
under one's roof. And yet the alternative should not 
be the loneliness he now experienced. The analytical 
Lothair resolved that there was no happiness without sym- 
pathy. 

The most trying time were the evenings. A man likes 
to be alone in the morning. He writes his letters and reads 
the newspapers, attempts to examine his steward's ac- 
counts, and if he wants society can gossip with his stud- 
groom. But a solitary evening in the country is gloomy, 
however brilliant the accessories. As Mr. Phoebus was not 
present, Lothair violated the prime principles of a first-clasa 
Aryan education, and ventured to read a little. It is diffi- 
cult to decide which is the most valuable companion to a 
country eremite at his nightly studies, the volume that 
keeps him awake or the one that sets him a-slumbering. 

At the end of a week Lothair had some good sport on 



LOTH AIR. 



477 



Doors, and this reminded h\m of the excellent Campian, 
who had received and answered hia letter. The Colonel, 
however, held out but a fiiint prospect of rettirning at pre- 
aent to Europe, though, whenever he did, he promised to 
be the gneat of Lothair. Lothair asked some of his neigh- 
bonra to dinner, and he made two large parties to Blanghtcr 
grouse. They were grateful and he waa popular, but 
' have not an idea in cdrnmou,' thonght Lothair, as 
trearicd and nninterested he hade hio last guest his last 
^od-nigbt. Then Lothair paid a visit to the Lord Lieu- 
tenant, and Ktayed two nights at Agramont Castle. Here 
lie met many county notables, and 'great was the com- 
|(Bnyof tlie preachers;* but the talk waa local or ecclesias- 
lical, and after the high-spiced condiment!) of the conversa- 
tion to which he was accustomed, the present discourse was 
inrapid even to nausea. He sought some relief iu the 
.tociety of Lady Idn^Alice, but she blushed when she spoke 
to him, and tittered when he replied to her; and at last ho 
{bund refuge in pretty Mrs. Ardenne, who concluded by 
uldng him for his photograph. 

On the morrow of hia return to Muriel, the servant briag. 

g in his lettora, he seized one in the handwriting of Ber- 
tram, and discarding the rest, devoured the communieatior 

hia fi-iend, which waa eventftil. 

It aeems that the Phtobus family had returned to Eng- 
land, and were at Brcntham, and had been there a week. 
The family were dehghted with them, and Euphrosyne was 

especial favourite. But this waa not all. It seems tliat 
Mr. Cantacnzeno had been down to Brentham, and stayed, 
which ho never did anywhere, a couple of days. And the 
Duke waa particularly charmed with Mr. Cautacnzono. 
This gentlemau, who was only in the earlier t«rra of middle 
«ge, and looked younger than iiia age, was diatingoished in 
ftppearanco, highly polished, and singularly acute. He ap- 
peared to be the master of great wealth, for he uU'erod to 



478 LOTHAIR. 



make apon Eaphrosjne any settlement which ihe Duke 
desired. He had no son, and did not wish his sons-in-law 
to be sighing for his death. He wished his danghten, 
therefore, to enjoy the balk of their inheritance in his life- 
time. Ue told the Duke that he had placed one hundred 
tlioasand pounds in the names of trustees on the marriage 
of Madame Phoebus, to accumulate, ' and when the genius 
and vanitj of her husband are both exhausted, though I 
believe they are inexhaustible,' remarked Mr. Gantacnzene, 
' it will be a nest's egg for them to &11 back upon, and at 
least save them from penury.' The Duke had no doubt 
that Mr. Cantacuzene was of imperial lineage. But the 
latter portion of the letter was the most deeply interesting 
to Lothair. Bertram wrote that his mother had just ob- 
served that she thought the Phcebus family would like to 
meet Lothair, and begged Bertram to invite him to Brent- 
ham. The letter ended by an urgent request that, if dis- 
engaged, he should arrive immediately. 

Mr. Phoebus highly approved of Brentham. All was art, 
and art of a high character. He knew no residence with 
an aspect so thoroughly Aryan. Though it was reaUy a 
family party, the house was quite full ; at least, as Bertram 
said to Lothair on his arrival, ' there is only room for you, 
and you are in your old quarters.' 

' That is exactly what I wished,' said Lothair. 

Ho had to escort the Duchess to dinner. Her manner 
was of old days. ' I thought you would like to meet your 
friends,' she said. 

' It gives me much pleasure, but much more to find my- 
self again at Brentham.' 

* There seems every prospect of Bertram being happy. 
We are enchanted with the young lady. You know her, I 
l)elieve, well P The Duke is highly pleased with her father, 
&fr. Cantacuzene ; he says one of the most sensible men he 
ever met, and a thorough gentleman, which he may well 



LOTH AIR. 479 

be, for I bolioTO there is no doabt be is of tbe higheHt de- 
Bent : emperors they say, princea even now. I wish yon 
nnld have met him, but be would only stay ei^ht-and-forty 
I nndcrstand hia aflairs are vast.' 
' I have always heard a considerable person ; quite the 
head of the Greek commnnify in this country ; indeed, iu 
Europe generaliy.' 

' I see by the morning papers that Miss Arundel haa 
p taken the veil.' 

'I missed my papers to-day,' said Lothair, & little 
l^tat«d, ' bat I have long been aware of her intention of 



' Lady St. Jerome will miss her very much. She woa 
[uite the soul of the house,' 

li must be a great and painiut sacrifice,' said Lothair ; 
but, I believe, long meditated. I remember when I was at 
rVftiuB, nearly two years ago, that I was told this was to be 
to. She was qnite datermined on it.' 
I saw the beaatifiil crucifix you gave her at Mr, Ruby's." 
It was a homage to her for her great goodness to me 
when I was ill at Rome : and it was difficult to find any- 
thing that would please or suit her. I fixed on the crucifix, 
because it permitted me to transfer to it the earth of the 
holy places, which wore iucluded in the crucifix, that was 
ilgiven to me by the monks of the Holy Sepulchre when I 
lade my pilgrimage to Jerusalem,' 

In the evening St. Aldegoude insisted on their dancing, 
and he engaged himself to Madame Phcebus. Bertram and 
Eophrosyne seemed never separated ; Lothair was success- 
ful in inducing Lady Coriaande to he his partner. 

'Do yon romember your first ball at Crecy House P' 
[aeked Lothair. ' You are not nervous now ? ' 

Id hardly say that,' sEud Eiady Corisande, 'though 
X try not to show it.' 

It was the 6rst ball for both of us,' said Lothair. 'I 



^Bni 



■tti 



48o LOTH AIR. 



have not danced so maoh in tibe interval as yon Have. Do 
you know, I was thinking just now, I have danced oftener 
with you than with anyone else P ' 

' Are not yon glad abont Bertram's affair ending so well ? ' 

'Very ; he will be a happy man. Everybody is happy, I 
think, except myself.' 

In the course of the evening, Lady St. Aldegonde, on the 
arm of Lord Montairy, stopped for a moment as she passed 
Lothair, and said: 'Do yon remember our conversation 
at Lord Gnlloden's breakfast? Who was right about 
mamnia ? ' 

They passed their long snmmer days in rambling and 
riding, and in wondrous new games which they played in the 
halL The striking feature, however, were the matches at 
battledore and shuttlecock between ^ladame Phoebus and 
Lord St. Aldegonde, in which the skill and energy displayed 
were supernatural, and led to betting. The evenings were 
always gay ; sometimes they danced ; more or less they 
always bad some delicious singing. And Mr. Phoebus ar- 
ranged some tableaux most successMly. 

Ail this time Lothair hung much about Lady Corisande ; 
he was by her side in the riding parties, always very near 
her when they walked, and sometimes he managed uncon- 
sciously to detach her from the main party, and they almost 
walked alone. If lie could not sit by her at dinner, he 
joined her immediately afterwards, and whether it were a 
dance, a tableau, or a now game, somehow or other he 
seemed always to be her companion. 

It was about a week after the arrival of Lothair, and 
they were at breakfast at Brentham, in that bright room 
full of little round tables which Lothair always admired, 
looking, as it did, upon a garden of many colours. 

'How I hate modem gardens,' said St. Aldegonde. 
' What a horrid thing this is ! One might as well have a 
mosaic pavement there. Give me cabbage-roses, sweei- 



LOTHAin. jSi 

peofi, and wallflowers. That is my iden of a garden. Cori- 
aaode's garden is lite only sensible tiling of the sort.' 

' One likea a mosaio pavement to look like a garden,' 
said Enphrosyne, 'but not a garden like a mosaic pavement," 

' The worst of these mosaic beda,' said Jfadame Phoebus, 
' is, you can revor got a nosegay, and if it were not for the 
kitchen-garden, we should bo destituto of that gayest and 
sweetest of creations.' 

' Corisande's garden is, since your first visit to Brentliam,' 
fiaid the Duchess to Lothair. ' No flowers are admitted 
that Lave not perfume. It is very old-iasldoned. You 
mnst get her to eltow it yon.' 

It was agreed that after breakfast they should go and 
see Corisande's garden. And a party did go : all the 
Phceboa family, and Lord and Lady St. Aldegonde, and 
I^y Corisande, and Bertram and Lothair. 

In the pleasure-grounds of Breotliam were the remains 
D ancient garden of the ancient house that had long 

D been pulled down. Wben the modern pleasure-grounds 
e planned and created, notwithstanding the protests of 

1 artists in landscape, the father of the present Duke 
it allow this ancient garden to bo entirely destroyed, 
|nd yoa came upon its quaint apjicarance in the dissimilai- 
f ^orld in which it was placed, as you might in some festival 
of romantic costume upon a person habited in the conrtly 
dross of the last century. It was formed upon a gentle 
eoutbem slope, with turfen terraces walled in on three 
aides, tbo fourth consisting of arches of golden yew. Tlie 
Duke had given this garden to Lady Ctrisande, in order 
that she might practise bor theory, that flower-gardens 
should be sweet and Inznriaut. and not bard and scentless 
imitations of works of art. Here, in Iheir season, flourished 
abundantly ail those productions of nature which are bow 

E* — ished from our once delighted senses: huge bashes of 
eysackle, and bowers of sweet-pea and sweetbriar and 



483 LOTH AIR. 

jetsamine clustering over the walls, and gOljflowers 
scenting with their sweet breath the ancient fark^ from 
which ihej seemed to spring. There were banks of yiolets 
which the southern breeze always stirred, and mignonette 
filled eveiy vacant nook. As they entered now, it seemed 
a blaze of roses and carnations, tliough one recognised in a 
moment the presence of the lily, the heliotrope, and the 
stock. Some white peacocks were ^^^l"^g on the southern 
wall, and one of them, as their visitors entered, moved and 
displayed its plumage with scornful pride. The bees wen 
busy in the air, but their homes were near, and you might 
watch them labouring in their glassy hives. 

' Now, is not Corisande quite right ? ' said Lord St. Alde- 
gonde, as he presented Madame Phoebus with a garland of 
woodbine, with which she said she would dress her head at 
dinner. All agreed with him, and Bertram and Euphrosyne 
adorned each other with carnations, and Mr. Phcebaa 
placed a flower on the uncovored head of Lady St. Alde- 
gonde, according to the principles of high art, and they 
sauntered and rambled in the sweet and sunny air amid a 
blaze of butterflies and the ceaseless hum of bees. 

Bertram and Euphrosyne had disappeared, and the rest 
were lingering about the hives while Mr. Phoebus gave 
them a lecture on the apiary and its marvellous Hfe. The 
bees understood Mr. Phcebus, at least he said so, and thus 
his Mends had considerable advantage in this lesson in 
entomology. Lady Corisande and Lothair were in a dis- 
tant comer of the garden, and she was explaining to him 
her plans ; what she had done and what she meant to do. 

' I wish I had a garden like this at Muriel,' said Lothair. 

' You could easily make one.' 

* K you helped me.' 

' I have told you all my plans,' said Lady Corisande. 

' Yes ; but I was thinking of something else when you 
spoke,' said Lothair. 



LOT HAIR. 



433 



BpiU 



That b not very cOKplimentary.' 

I do not wish to be complimentary,' said Lobhair, ' if 
twrnplimeiits mean less than they declare. I w&b sot 
thinkiiig of your garden, but of yoa.' 

' Where can they have all gone ? ' aaid I^dy Corisande, 
looking round. ' We nmet lind them.' 

' And Icavo thia garden ? ' said Lothair. ' And I without 
a flower, the onJy one without a flower? I un afraid that 
is EJgni&cant of my lot.' 

' I'oa shall choose a rose,' eaid Lady Corisande, 

' Nay [ the charm is that it should be yoar choioe,' 

But choosing the rose lost more time, and when Cori- 
B&nde and Lothair rtt;u:hed the arches of golden yew, there 
were tto friends in sight. 

' I think I hear soonds thia way,' said Lothair, and he 
led his companion farther from home, 

' I see no one,' said Lady Corisande, distresacd, and when 
they hod adranced a little way. 

' We are anre to find them in good time,' said Iiotbair. 
'Besidea, I wanted to speak to yon about the garden at 
Muriel. I wanted to induce yon to go there and help ra& 
to make it. Tea,' he added, after some hesitation, ' on this 
spot, I believe on this very spot, I asked the permission of 
your mother two years ago to express to you my love. She 
thought mo a boy, and she treated mo as a boy. She said 
1 knew nothing of the world, and both our characters were 
unformed. I know the world now. I have committed 
many mistakes, doubtless many follies, hare formed many 
opinions, and have changed many opinions ; but to one I 
have been constant, in one I am unchanged, and that is my 
adoring love for you.' 

She turned pale, she Rtopped, then gently taking bin 
urm, eho hid her face in his breast. 

He soothed and sustained her agitated frame, and sealed 
embrace her apeccbless form. Then, with aoft 



484 LOTH AIR. 



thonghta and softer wordB, clinging to him he indnced her 
to resume their stroll, which hoth of them now wished 
might assuredly be undisturbed. They had arrived at the 
limit of the pleasure-grounds, and they wandered into the 
park and into its most sequestered parts. All this time 
Lothair spoke much, and gave her the history of his life 
since he first visited her home. Lady Gorisande said little, 
but when she was more composed, she told him that from 
the first hor heart had been his, but eveiything seemed 
to go against her hopes. Perhaps at last, to please her 
parents, she would have married the Duke of Brecon, had 
not Lothair returned ; and what he had said to her that 
morning at Grecy House had decided her resolution, what- 
ever might be her lot, to unite it to no one else but him. 
But then came the adventure of the crucifix, and she 
thought all was over for her, and she quitted to?m in 
despair. 

• Let us rest here for a while,' said Lothair, * under the 
shade of this oak ;' and Lady Gorisande reclined against its 
mighty trunk, and Lothair threw himself at her feet. He 
had a great deal still to tell her, and among other things, 
the story of the pearls, which he had wished to give to 
Theodora. 

'She was, after all, your good genius,* said Lady 
Gorisande. * 1 always liked her.' 

*Well now,' said Lothair, Hhat case has never been 
opened. The year has elapsed, but I would not open it, 
for I had always a wild wish that the person who opened 
it should be yourself. See, here it is.' And he gave her 
the case. 

'We will not break the seal,' said Lady Gorisande. 
* Let us respect it for her sake : Boma ! ' she said, ex- 
amining it ; and then they opened the case. There was 
the slip of paper which Theodora at the time had placed 



LOTH AIR. 4S5 



apon the pearls, and on wliich she bad written some anseen 
words. They were read now, and ran thus : 

*Thb Offebiko of Theodora to Lothaib's Bbide.* 

' Let me place them on you now/ said Lothair. 

' I will wear them as your chains/ said Corisande. 

The sun began to tell them that some hours had elapsed 
since thej quitted Brentham House. At last a sofl hand 
which Lothair retained, gave him a slight pressure, and a 
sweet voice whispered, ' Dearest, I think we ought to 
return.' 

And they returned almost in silence. They rather cal- 
culated that, taking advantage of the luncheon-hour, Cori- 
sande might escape to her room ; but they were a little too 
late. Luncheon was over, and they met the Duchess and 
a large party on the terrace. 

* What has become of you, my good people ? * said her 
Grace ; * bells have been ringing for you in every direction. 
Where can you have been ! ' 

' I have been in Corisande's garden,' said Lothair, ^ and 
she has given me a rose.' 



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