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22.432 •■^•■2' 




BEQUEATH ED BY 

I Theodore Jewett Eastman 



i 



The Right 
Honourable" 

, / liomantT of Sotitny Mil fyim , 



By JUSTIH W 




4 ^ 



"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE" 





^ 



• . 



r 






"THE 



RIGHT HONOURABLE" 



A ROMANCE^ OF SOCIETY AND POLITICS 



By JUSTIN McCarthy, m. p. 

AND 

MRS. CAMPBELL-PRAED 



NEW YORK 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

1888 



^^ 'Z 3Z, S. 2. 



•• -» 



•:> c:i:.z^^ librarv 

■ ■• BEQUEST OF 
.:£ JEWOT EASTfiAN 
i931 



The AutHoTs of tliis book have made tbcir experiment in 
what they believe to be a genuine way. "The Right 
Honourable " is in the strictest sense the work of a nmn and 
a woman. Every character, incident, scene, and page is 
joint work, and was thought out and written out in com- 
bination. Whatever the book is, it is not patchwork. 

The Authors only wish to add that the politics and the 
personages of the story are purely fancifuL Their aim was 
to suiTOund figures that do not exist and political parties 
hitherto unformed with conditions of reality which might 
make them seem as if they too were real. 



CONTENTS. 



CRAFTKB fAIBU 

I. Ths Little Queen ••• »«• «•• ••• 1 

n. Outlined against the Gret Sxt m« ••• 9 

in. Ladt Betty Mobsb ••• ••• ••• ••• 18 

IV. "After Long Years" ••• ••• ••• 27 

y. Husband and Wife ••• ••• ••• ... 82 

YI. Wife and Husband ••• ••• ••• »•• 89 

Vn. Bed Cap and White Cockade ••• ••• ••• 49 

VnL KOORALI AND HER BeEDS ... ... ••• 68 

IX. **What do tou call London Society?" ••• ••• 70 

X. "And so— Hallo I" ••• ... ... ••. 78 

XL The Family Dinner ... ... ••• ... 87 

XII. The "Languorous Tropic Flower** ... •«• 100 

XIIL The Terrace ... ... ... ••• ... 106 

XIY. ** Shall I go to see her?'' ••• ••• ... 116 

XY. Kenway acts the Hero ... ... ... ••• 122 

■ixYx. LXJO'EE I ... ... ... 00. 00, Xm«7 

XVn. "One Touch lights up two liAWPs" ... ... 140 

XVIIL The Priory-on-the-Water ... ... ... 148 

XIX. "Too EARLY SEEN UNKNOWN, AND KNOWN TOO LATB" ... 168 

XX. Mr. Dobito admonishes Nations ... ••• 162 

XXL "And may this World go well with tou** ••• 166 

XXII. The Last Appeal ... 0.. •.. ••• 174 

XXIII. "Thou shalt renounce** ... ••• ••• ... 180 

XXIV. "Pursuing a Phantom** ... ••• ... 190 

A /v V. xlNK DNOW ... 0.. ••• •%• ... 19o 

XXVL The Pbooressive Club... ••• %•« %«« ^tfi^ 



^ 



;he Right 
Honourable' 



^omumfi fif ,\o<tpni iifut tti/iilti 



By 



ll 





^i.- 



i.. : 



P«v 



t 



I" 



?, 



THE RIGHT HONOURABLE" 



Ti 



r 



"THE 



RIGHT HONOURABLE" 



A ROMANCE^ OF SOCIETY AND POLITICS 



By JUSTIN McCarthy, m. p. 

AND 

MRS. CAMPBELL-PRAED 



NEW YORK 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

1888 



ZZ^3Z. S.Z. 



:£ ;E?yiTT EP.GTMAN 
1931 



The Authors of this book haye made their experiment in 
what they believe to be a genuine way. **The Right 
Honourable " is in the strictest sense the work of a man and 
a woman. Every character, incident, scene, and page is 
joint work, and was thought out and written out in com- 
bination. Whatever the book is, it is not patchwork. 

The Authors only wish to add that the politics and the 
personages of the story are purely fancifuL Their aim was 
to suiTOund figures that do not exist and political parties 
hitherto unformed with conditions of reality which might 
make them seem as if they too were real. 



8 "^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.'' 

everytfaiQi;. It's history, poetry, tradition. But we are going to 
make all thaU The people always make it. We will choose our own 
Napoleon.** 

She coloured a little, remembering the comparison she had drawn. 
The Judge laughed. 

"Tou can't choose this one. He's a def^erter. He won't f^\ 
under the flag of his adopted country. The New World doesn't suit 
him. He has tried America. He has had a go at Australia, and now 
he is tuming back after all to his own old crumbling traditions." 

A clatter in the saloon caught the Judge's attention. He peered 
down the skylight. The steward was serving out coffee. 

" You thief of the world I " cried the Judge, addressing one of ths 
juniors who had looked up from the table with something brandished 
in his hand. ^ Let go my eggs, will you ? and don't interlere with my 
own brew. I take my coffee with a sikh in it," added he, tuming to 
Koor&li, " that's the yolk of an egg and the least drop of whisky. Anj 
if they can put me off with a stale egg they just will, the young deyik 
My Little Queen, now — and ye don't deserve to be called it — come uid 
try my coffee and my stick.^ 

But Eoor^i declined, and so also did Morse. Almost everybody 
else went down below. The cabin was filled with talk and laughter. 
Only tbose two remained on deck. 

They talked of the scenery, of the chances of smooth weather- 
commonplaces. 

'' I am going to find you a more comfortable seat," said Morse, after 
a while. ** And then I shall order some coffee up here." 

He led the way towards the stem of the vessel where, near the 
helm, there was a little space covered over with a rouo:h awning and 
built in on one side with huge coils of rope. He drew forward a chair 
for her, and then left her for a few minutes. When he came back he 
was followed by a steward carrying coffee and rolls. 

She was gazing dreamily at the vanishing lighthouse, and started 
when he spoke to her. 

" Oh, thank you." She drank some coffee, but presently put down 
the cup and did not touch the roll. 

" Aren't you hungry V " asked Morse. " You must have got up very 
early. Or did the pUots give you breakfast before they brought you 
on board ? " 

"I was awake at four," she answered. "Barril, the head pilot, 
knocked at my door to tell me that there was a steamer off the Cape. 
He got breakfast ready, and we all had it together. It was quite a sad 
meal." 

" The pilots were sorry to lose you, I suppose ? " 

"Yes, very sorry," she replied gravely; " and I was sorry, too." 

" You have known them a long time *? ** 

" I have grown up among them, and they have always done every- 
thing they could to please me," she said, with her little unconscious 
air or dignity. ** They used to bripg me jam and apples and orangeb, 



OUTUNED AGAINST THE GREY SKY. 

lAeneTer a ship pamed from New South Wnle* or Tmmanin ; uid T 
utve a necklace made from the mother-of-pearl ia tlie nantilua ithelli 
h^ eot for me, and such a beautjru! rml pearl which Barril found 
IJmself, ftnd which I ehall wear always. It was Barr[l who carried tad 
m shore when the steamer first droppied us at Muttabami — I was onlj. 
three yeara old then, dod I bavo never gone away since, till to-day,"^ 

"And to-day they have had to bid good-bjre to their Little QuMn,'. 
I don't wonder that they were sad. Hut you must feel that you at*' 
piiig to take posstsaiun of a kingdom inslcad uf leaving one. Isn't' 
this the case)'" i 

" It waa your kingilom a little while ago," aaid Koorili, lookiag u| 
Um with a Eort of ianocenC wonder in her cyea. I 

He could not help smiliag. To the child this was quite n seriouii 
natter. That was evident. Her father was, she knew, chief niii ' ' ~ 
[f the ooimtry. He hcd taken Morse's place. She believed him 
nore powerful than the Govcruor. She wondered that any one could , 
uire resigned so splendid a position. As (or herself, she was going' 
bwD to reign by this monarch's siJe. Ferbaps ehe fancied that she 
nieht help to sway the destinies of Australia. It watt very childlike 
ind yet very natural, and only a more brilliant contionatiun of what 
kod gone before. Probably she had always had a voice in everything 
—in aSsirs at the lighthouse ns well as ud her father's station. The 

Kilota had worshipped her, of course, and every one had bowed down 
efore her ; and perhaps she fancied that the heads of department", 
Bnd the Government oliidals, and tho members of Parliament, and all 
t, would aiso acknowledge her supremacy. Fuor Little Qi 



I 

I 



M^woi 



CHAPTER 11. 



pALUSO in with the fancy, Morse said, " I shall think of you whoa. J 
1 am far away, and be glswl th.-it you are in my place." 
. A curious thought came into his mind : " After all, why a_ _ _ 
leaving the placeV Aloud he only aaid, "I lio]* you wil! like your I 
crown. But crowns in our day are not crowns of roEea." Then b ' 
thought he was talking sentimentality, not to Bay nonsense. 

"If I were renlly a queen," Koorili said quite at-riously and earnestly, J 
•'I Bhouidn't care about a crown. I should ouly care for ray peopJi.S 
iMy kingdom thould be in their hearts. But that can't be, I BUt^)oi^ J 
JD tbiit prosaic world, or the time fur it ia past." 

Uo»e did uot answer at once. He waa gazing thoughtfully q< 

"I nm afraid the spirit ia deatl; but the form remains," he said J 
dreamily, "like one of your 'ringed' gum-trous. Perhaps monarcli*i 
' " f the ringed gum-trees already, he added, turning to her will 
L. — ji_ -.^ y/iiach there was ao me tiling enigmaliiwi. 



iMBiuif the 

m. 



lo "r/Zf RIGHT HONOURABLE? 

" Si> I lU'u't think I would hnve any mtira crtiwna," contlntwil 
Koor&li. " ThiLl was what Ivns tliinkitig of when I said thai I should 
like to eea Australia a republic. There ara not any real heart-kinga 
and qu«enB now, ara there? Anl strong jousg countries ought not 
Ui care about nnoies and forms.*' 

Ucr childlike earnestness and eagcmesa anjused and also touched 

him. Heart-king! Heact-quoeiv ! Ue echoed the fanciful phrase. 

It clusg to him. 

" You am longing to cot to your kingdom — or repuhlio ? " he oaked. 

"Oh yes," she re|iiied gravely. "I am lon^ng to see the world, 

and the ^reat struggles of ambition and public life." 

The world — tha great strugglea of ambition and public liTe — in a 
Rcoond-clasa Austroliao colony which he was leaving becauee lie found 
it insuifenibiy narrow, because it waa stifling him with its narrowuens 1 
ile was curiotislj' touched. 

"Why are you going away?" she suddenly asked in a tone of 
wonder and pity, as if in leaving that place he muat be leaving all. 

" I am going to ste niy world, and to begin my great struggle of 
ambition and my public life — in London." 
" is London your on}y world ? " 
•■ I think so." 

She did not speak. She appeared to be reflecting. Evidently his 
words had opened out dim vistas. Just then a bell clanged. It was 
disturbing, and Morse knew that another — the signal fur breakfast — 
would soon ring also. People had begun to come upon deck. Among 
them were several ladies. These eyed Ko<jr^li with frank curiosity. 
She suddenly became conscious of their interest, and seemed to 
remember the loss of her hat, for she involuntarily raised her band Lo 
her bare bead, then got up, and, with her air of easy self-inssesjiion, 
brought the little teU-h-tiU to a cloac. 

" 1 think 1 had better go down luid try to find something to put on. 
I don't see Judge O'Beime. Would you please ask the CaptwQ to 
have my pack taken to the ladies' <»,bin ? " 

She niaiio her i>eremptory littla demand with great sweetness. 
Morse conducted her to the hatchway, and then gave instructions 
about the ourious-looking canvas bags which ho supposed contained 
the young lady's nardrobe. Ue emiled to himself as he watched ft 
Bailor remove them from the deck. He was a little sorry the conver- 
sation bad ended so abruptly, and wondered if it would be renewed 
during the iwenty-four hours they were to pass together on biiard the 
steamer. He had ascertained that they would reach Moreton Bay early 
on the following morning. There, aocordmg to tha oilicial programme, 
the Ministers would come on board from the Govoroment bteamboat ; 
there would be a breikfaat, and Lis (Morse's) health would be drunk 
in bumpers of champagne. There would be as much speechifying as 
the tide and the state of the river bar would permit. Then the fare- 
wells would bo said. Kooriili, under her father's escort, would be 
tmnnferred to the little steamer. She woidd find har world some forty 



^P^^T- 



OUTLINED AGAmST THE GREY SKY. 

milus up tbe river io tba peltf <y)litiiiiil cnjiitnl ho bml Inn fur OCfl 
whilo lie would speed ua hia wnj to that othi-r world tlia world 1^ 
pcUtics, of wenhli, of fashion, of poverty, minery, ruin ; H 
coDtraate, the world of London ; and the bright vlHioti whiit. 
to Mm wirh the moniiDg'sdana would be only hut u the remenibrai 
of a dream. 

It wemed that at preitt^t little in the slmpe of hannunioua 
aation was to come of the koynola which had boon Btruulc 
is eaeier on a crowded steamer than for two pmpb to Iw ft^r h 
within a few jards of each other and jet hava tin ojifmrt unity ri>r C 
interehimge of idene. Morse saw Koorftli on thn opjimita >ida t^ tl 
long brcakbst-table, hut he was not near enough to hoar licr ■pMi— 
Kw pretty pathetic face waa frnnicd tn thu wide lilai'k brim «f 'j| 
i*vereij airople bonnet, which ho imagined raitJit bcl'inn t« a 
clcwardeas, whom he had seen hangin;; about tho onirancA t 
ladles' cabin. The Iwnnot, in spite of its tiliiinnosB anil it* 
border, hnd a qnaiut appearance, and auilod the youna girl"* d 
ezpresBive features, pale clear akin, and dpsp wUtful ojioa. 
mentally applied to her sijjcctivea which igve th« improialon of . __ 
thing plaintive and Bod ; yet he could not ha blind tn a certain childU 
frcBbiKss and innooent conBdence in her look which wore a 

■specially noticeable and charming. It Beemed to him that thiif _ 

youthfulness and brigbtoess of hnpe only deepened the iiugit»i<il>'D of 
tragedy that struck him mnre Ihnn anytliin-; else nlxnit her. Jl wa* 
by this trade touch that she seized his interest. Undcrlylni; much 
that was cold and practical in Morse's nature, there was a keen poetle 
bculty. Be took Ufe seriously, and, though he had a shrewd ami xmiif \ 
perception of the huinonius, his ^nt waa rather to it* meiaDcllc'''^ 



All the n 



I KoorMi flitted hither and Ihithor, innliecting ll 



things she was to do. However penuivQ her face might bo, hnr ct 
pomtion was as gay, apparently, na that of a child, and iiho nioined t^ 
enjoy life as heartily. She was b pretty figure as (ibo alood unUW^ 
Mage, and looked at the coast through the Captain's telescop*. 
Horse's eyes often wandered towards her as ho sat on tho lower deck, 
tnit ho did not go near or try to monopuiiu her. 

He left her to the Judge and to the young barristers all tlio afternoon 
abo. He had letters of importance to write — T«rting lottor* to mlitlenl 
Mends and colleagues — to political foes as well ; and he had Iti* own 
future to think nlioiit, and certain -vague ambitious schemea to mituro 
— ecbemes which, now that he had cut himself adrift from Australian 
life, seemed to loom more definite and distinct, lie had only now 
begun to realize — and he had done so with a sense of shock — how vast 
wu his ambition, how intense his determination ti> carve bis own 
ranw aflrr the fashion that confimned with hia character nud with 
..t,,^;.,!.-,. „,,.i [tiporing (li.it ivere pfiwcrtul onw^^i tii V«i nwUve B\iriiigjK-— 



11 ^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE!' 

As bo Mt wriiing and tlibkinji. Judge O'lieimo's Irish ton 
Koor&li's voicB aod laugh floated down lo him through the lial^^peu 
Bkyliaht. He could noi hear what tbcy were sajisg, but the image 
imd thought of the girl blended with hia more eerioue reflectiung, aud 
|[>ve him a straDgo reoling of double eiisteace. He could not fgi 
rid of the fancy that he was standing on the Tergo of two lives, and 
that the huur of choice and crisis had come. For the first time he 
qiiMtioDcd, In tL fiigitivo way, the wisdom of beginning what be hnd 
rolled bia great atniggla of ambitioo, and of plunging, as he meant to 
Jo, into the yery current of life. He wondered vaguely within him- 
self whether afier all it would not have been better to remain in 
Australia — to give bis energies aud talents lo the fasterin; of a new, 
etrong, yet unii edged country, and to Iraive ruined bstitu lions and 
corrupt social eystema to dwindle into decay. He was alone at the 
tipper end of the saloon, and his mood suffered no interruption from 
the other XMsacngors, who, seeing him occupied with documents and 
correspondtncu, respected hia stateamunlike attitude. He shook him- 
self free at last of the dreamy consciousness of Koor^li'a influence, and 
bis pea dashed off vigoroualy, nev-er resting till dinner time. It was 
not for some time after that meal, and when tlie cluims of whist and 
hot toddy called the Judge boluw, thiit he again found himself near 
Koor^li, She was left by Judge O'Beima tucked up under a rug in a 
deck chair ] laced in that sheltered corner lo which Morse had brought 
her in the iiiorniog. She had taken off her bonnet, end a. white 
woollen 8hnwl was wrapt>ed round her shoulders, mid partially covered 
her head. She looked very soft and sweet, and there was a radiance 
on her fiice nut of the dawn now, but of the setting sun. Sbe was not 
talking to any one — there was no one near, hut her thoughts secmfd 
ahnost ns animated as hi!r convcr^tion, for she was smiling to herself, 
and her features were lighted up with bright interest and a sort ot 
eager anticipation. He guessed wliHt she was tbinkiiig. The s^^iamcr 
MAS speeding smoothly olung. A few more hours and life would have 
become dramatic. 

]t seemed tiuiie natuml for him to ccime near and lemuk, smiling 
as be spoke, " You haven't muuh longer to wait now. You will sooa 
be seein: the world." 

"Ohl" She pave a little start, and looked at him questioningly, 
ns though she were not quite sure if be meant to be serious. But aha 
did not put her doubt intu worda, ns for an iustanl ho feared, and ho 
felt a swih pnng at the notion of having damped her gitlii-h tnlhusiasm. 

"Only till l*>-niorruw," she repUtd simply, "I have l«en tiiinkinn 
how lovely it will all be. I think it is so delightful to luuk fur« ard 
and picture tbiogs. Don't you?" 

Ho seated himself. " i dun't want to be depres'^ing ; but I xuppnsa 
most people would tell you that picturing things befurehnnd is the ' 
part of it." 

"Not to me. Evorylhing turns out lo he better than I fiinpj 
Aj>h evfu^Uiini; thai I want to haj^pen eumea tu pass." 



|>pr«a ^ 

■ beat I 
pylb I 

J 



[ OUTUNED AGAINST THE GREY SXY. 



a u« a rortoDate girl," M:d AforM. " rcrhniM, liowavrr, It 
« yror wisiiM nro not very extraTngnnt." 

Kourlli laughed soni}'. "A few of my vn^'hta nre very eilraviLj^nnt, 
Th^ belong to a Eiiry (aIp, and are euch a 1oq2 way ufT tliAt I only 
dreain of their bein^ fullilled some time. Like gojiig to baavon or my 
ideal republic See ng London b one of them." 

" You wiil go thi re tome day. Every one gooi to London." 

"Ah, someiJay I'tiherepeabd, with apnitty ui'^vumont of borbonda. 

"/shall be there iHthiu tls weeks; aod I shall expect to nie«t vou 
there some time within eix jenrs. AC the most, thnt ia not «ucb 4 
long wny off. Then I ah»U remicid you of our little voynan tugntl ' 
and I shall ask yon if all your wUlies, oven tlio most extruvngiint 
have been so literally fullilled." 

"Ypaj and I rhall ask you " sho began impulsively, and paui 

"What aha!! jou ask me? I promise to Biiswnr your tji 
whatever they may be." 

She ahrsok a little as if in sliynass, but did out luwur li 
wbich net his. 

"I think you wflDt to do something grent. Tou Imvo a look 

lur Bwe— like Ihut — as if ynu had a star to follow, or thcro wrro 
AiwlerlitB beiore yuu, I should like to ask you wiitu wo moot 
Li^ndon if yuu had di'iio what you wauti'd." 

"he cxclwmsl, " I will answer that bcfnrohnuJ, 
among ordinary men docs anything great? Who siiRoniils? Or 
■ucccBS comes to (he exceptional man for a time, how luii^t i 
If there ia an Austerlitz, doesn't tliere come a Wutarluo 
But perhaps it is worth trying even for defeat. And, ai you oay very] 
prettily, one must follow his star." 

There was a short silence. Fresent'y KoorUI anid, " T nhouldn't 111 
to feel like that. I couldn't look furward to diunpinjiotrnunt, 1 dot 
believe in disappointmeut, or in not betoc happy, i have lilwavi 
happy. I mean always to be happy, and to maka pnopio nJad.' 

"I think you will do tliac last thing," he aniwerol, "though 
may not be able to help cuuslug unbappinesn, too. But," hn odi 
aedng that she turned quiokly, and looked a littlo iur|riiiied, "i_ 
quite evident that your views of Ife are justiGetl by exiiuriuiive, sji 
ererjLhing you ever wished to happen has come to pass." 

Kooiili turned to him again with a little eager uplifting of h' 

"I did BO want to leave the Bush when I was grown up. I 
Id be at the heart of thinga — to know what the [loopla who lived 
cities did and felt and thought. It was i»y druam. And now, yi 
Me how eoon it has all come to me." 

"It would have come in the natural order of thiiign, wouldn't it?' 
liB asked, 

g time hence. Tou see, father wouldn't have boon 
enough to take a house in the town, and give ine all the thinga 
wanUd unless lie bad got an appoiatmont. And ho would not ha' 
acMpted, nor should 1 hnve lilted liNn t*> have, B.115 tail. U\» few ^Itvc 



I 



"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 






Jb» had the first place," aha added simplj, "and no 
supposed that you wouid give it up of your free will." 

" Bo," he Baid, " you owe to me the reaiizatioB of one of your dreanw 
at least. It's a litlia hard that I shouldn't nee you vnjoying it, TeU 
me," lie said abruptly, af ter a momeat's pause, '.'how dd you come by 
your wdd, strange name? — Koorili," he lingered softly oo the syllables. 
" 1 tievor heajd it before." 

" It's a native name, Kooral ia the blacliB' word for BUnkes. I irns 
called after a place on the station where I was bom — not Mullabarra — 
a Btation furAer south, among the mountains. Tho reason is a sad 
little Btory. Sliall I tell it to you ? " 

" Oh yes I " exclaimed Morse. 

"There's a deep ravine down there," aald Koorlli. " It's called the 
Kooral Gully, because of the snakes, Aaut Janet says. I don't suppose 
there were really more snakea there than anywhere else. Anyhow, my 
mother and faiher had to cnmp iu it otioe, with my little brother— my 
own, only brother, and his nurEe let him get bitten by a death adder. 
He just lived an hour or two. My mother drove homo with him in 
her arms dead. 8oon afterwarda I was bom, and my mother died. 
Whea they Oi^ked licr wliat she wished my name to be, she anid Koor^" 

Morae uttered an cicUmation of interest and pity. It seemed to 
him fitting, somehow, that tliere should he this tragic association with 
her name. He was deeply touched. Koor-Ut's voice Lul taken a mora 
plaintive intonaiion aa she told the little lale. 

"tio you never knew your mother?" he said. "And you lived 
among the mountains, a poor little loneiy child?" 

"Ohnol" ehe answered. "I wna not lonely. Aunt Janet took 
care of me. Everybody bas always lieen Riod to ma. We went away. 
Father could not bear tho old Etation. Ue didn't like the ISuah any 
longer, lie has never been much at Mutt:ibarra." 

Morse would have liked to know something of the mental relation- 
ship between the father and dnughter. He could nul connect tbe iden 
of sentiment, relinoment of feeling, or intellectual sympalhy with his 
impression of the shrewd, somewhat coarse, s«lf<inte rested, rather 
Jewish-looking num who was nonr at the head of nfl'aira. Ha could 
not imagine Ur, Middlemiat the guide and friend of tuch a girl aa 
KoariLli. llut ho atked uo dii'ecUy leading qncsiion, Afier all, wiiat 
did it matter to him 1 So he only said — 

"Tour story is very sad and very interesting. I don't know why 
I should think, of you as having had an isolated childhood, or, if it 
were the case, why I should pity you. It is a good preparation for iliu 
inevitable loneliness of lifa." 

She looked at him straightly, with almost mournful interest. 

" Are yon lonely ? " she asl;fd. 

"I am quite alone," he answered. "That is, I have no one in tho 
world near enough and dear euougb lo tiilk to quite freely." 

"Perhaps," she said slowly, "when you are ia England you will 
taect (I'iib oome one whom you can trust.' . 



OVTLIl^ED AGAmST TUB GREY SKY. 

"Tea," he said — slowly, too. "It b quite likely that I may a 
with such a one — in £iig1aad. Some qd« \a inist," be i 
dreamily, "some one lo share one's *jul with; Bome oti 
•ympalhy would bring % seoso of mcaauielesa content," llo 
himself with a slight gesture and a little laiigL in truth, he EudilcalTi 
found himfiilf -wondering how he, who wua usually bo rcticc ' 
■peak thus tu a girl whom he had met but a few hours bcfure 
Onues 1 " be said, " but a nuia has them ; and women, too, 1 auppo 
br that matter. They'll ccme to you some day, Little Queen. FuC^fl 
giT« me. ¥ou see 1 have caught Judge O'Beirna'ii phmse." 

Eooi^i had withdrawn her eyes liiigeringly from bis face while b 
aiM>lce. She did not seem to notice his spoligy. 

"I don't think one is ever quite alone," she snid in a thoughtful 
way. " We are out alone in ^eanisi and sometimes it seems [o m« 
tfaat life is like a dream, and that there in n world ({uilc cIoAa to ns futt 
of h«nutlfiil, bodiless tilings — fancies, and musio, and jnetry, and lovely 
virions, that would become real if only we could strain a little further, 
or see a little clearer, or hear a little more dialioctly. I feel lite tlint 
— all strange anil bo near, so near to fuller life, when I am all by 
myaelf in the Bush. I feelliko that often " 

** And yet you want to know the life of cities, wliore tUeso things are 
not?" 

" Oh 1 " she said, shrinking, " I shouldn't like to think that I w 
lose my beautiful fancies. Don't tell me that." 

"jjoj I will not prophesy sadness, I will only iwk you when — 
if — WB meet in the glare and noise of a London drawing-room, whetlia 
the beautiful fancies are with you still j and if you have kept Ibam I^ 
1^11 be Tery glad." 

"■Tell me iomothing about I,undon," she said, and began to Usk h 
qaesUons in her quick, impulsive wny. 

The night had closed in, and the wide wosta of waters gleamed ^t . ._ 
]diOsphona«cent patches. Their talk gUded on from one subject to 
another in pleasant Gtful fosliion. Nothing remarkable wua s-iid, yet 
all oeomed tinged by the witchery of the hour. To Morse there woa 
■ometlung strangely fresh and sympathetic in Kuor^li's simple remarks. 
He liked their poetic Havour. As a inntter of fact, the companion sh^ _ 
of Tery young women was not usually agreeable to him. He was » i 
man who alfectcd — In all pure intent — the company of niarriod woiaea,^ 
•nd he held a theory that it would be ilnpcs^dble for him to Inll inv 
love viih any except a woman of society — highly trained, sweet off 
nature, noble, and true, but, all the same, one Tersed in the reSnemenn 
and lubtleties of modem civilizalioo. Nevertheless, he liked this gIrM 
ker talk charmed him. He was touchiid by her crude optimism. '" 
waa BO undeveloped, and at the same time, ha thought, bo ful. .. 
eapabilitiea. In spite of his theories, he liked her air of other-world-1 
linesB, Ue liked the quick wey in which she seized an iileo, her rvHdjF J 
■ympatby imd almost tender interest. She set him thinking ; and, ai \ 
1m ptced the deck, long after she had gone below, his muv'l >v)ivl^ u^oa 



i6 "7WS RIGHT HONOURABLE^ \ 

her. Ue could fancy how slie would throw herself heart and bodI intif 
the honourable ambitiuna of a hitsband sUe loved; how ahe would 
make liin ideiis her own ; how complete and Boothing, and yet how 
Btiniulatmg, would be har companiuaship. What a relief it would be 
to turn to her from the fret and Bi.ruggle of public afl'aire — to turn froiQi 
life's prose to its poetry. 

Homirtg saw tho mail boat anchored in the bity, and rood 
Government tender, all decorated with HngH, sleamed gaily to 
Klde. The Idinisters caroe on board, and, after a little of that , _ , 
Uojinary fuss and ceremonial in which the baby ooLony deli;^btii, the 
fnrewelt banquet to M<)iae began. 

Mr. Middlemist, tiiR^miist of tlie Government deputalion, seemed 
more eDgroa-<ed by his oHicial duties tlian by Ihe meeting wiih hU 
daughter. It tvas not till after h« bad made a llorid little addrass to 
Uorse that he kissed Koor^li, bidding her welcome, and formally 
introducing her Co his colleagues. Morse, watching her, saw a slightly 
pained bewildered look cross her fftce; but it did not stay there lung. 
Soon ahe was at ease, and had apparently settled in her mind that 
the exigencies of a political function required that there should be 
as little show as possible of family alTectiun. 

Two or three of the MiaisterB' wives were of the party, and 
Kooiili took the place among them that her father evidently 
intended should be ceded to her. The little by-play amuaed Moise. 
He observed that the Premier glanced with dissatisfaction at the 
stewardess's bonnet, and that at the banquet Koorilli sat bareheaded 
on the right of the new PostmiatGr-General, Mr. Crichlon Kenway. 

Mr. Kenway was a young mnn evidently not of colonial origin. 
Indeed, Morse had already incidentilly heard that he belonged to an 
impoverished English family which had once owned ancestial acrea 
in a midland coouty that he himself knew. Cricbton Kenway was 
ofatypevery different from that of hi3 colleague, the Premier. Mr. 
Middlemist was beycad mi'ldle nge, short, dark, and plobeian, Hs 
was atout, with Btubhy iron-grey whiskers and clean-shaven upper 
lip and nbin. He looked like a man who took li<e from an eminently 
practical point of view, and was not free from lis grosser influenoi-a. 
Studying bis face and manner now, Morse could not reconcile them 
with Koor^i's sad little story of the break-up of his home, and with 
the idea of devoted constancy to a, dead wife's mpmory. 

Orichton Kenwiiy, on the other hand, seemed fairly fitted to bo 
a hero of romance of the conventionnl order. He was toll, uprifht, 
good-looking, well dressed, and Lad an air of breeding. His bead 
could not be called intellectual, but his fair hair, ]mrted down tho 
middle, grew back from the temples, and his forehead thus appeared 
higher than it really was. He had a look of alertness also, and a 
rather anxiously pleasant manner, as if he wished to produce a good 
impreauoD and was keenly alive to hia own advantage. He had 
bright, rather hard blue eyes, straight features, and a tine drooping 
bloode moustache irhlch, perhaps fortunately, fell over his mouth. 



[rom 



OUTUNED AGAINST THE GREY SKY. 

Hia chin, liowevcr, nas decUivel]' cut, somewhat pointod, and be 
a long, lean throat that suggested diBtinctioQ, Ihaugh it someti 
gave him it sort of nipaciaus look, like that of a fiae yiiuug bird 
prey. He wns young, not more than thirty, if bo much, and it n 
(L proof of nhiliiy tliat he should hold eren s subordiniite place 
tha new CttbioBt. The position of PosiinoBter-General, it shoi 
Mfbaps be B.iid, was not quits on a par with that of the olhc 
Hioisrem Till Uiddlemist'a accession to power ihe Ponlinfiste' 
General hnd been merely the head of a department, but when 
office had been conferred upon CHchton Renway it had become inini»i 
terial, and ita holder represented the Government in the ujipcr house. 
To Morae there was something dreamlike about the banquet. Be 
could hardly realize that ibis waa bia farewell to iuatmiia, oven when, 
in an impressive and heartfelt speech, he returned Ihnnks for the 
Premier's valedictory encomium iif hb policy and his personal qualities 
and for the enthusiastic manner in which his health bad been drunlc. 
He had an odd feelto^ that he was a grown-up youth leaving the 
school in which he had been trained, in order to begin hia fight with 
the world. The ceremonial, the fine speeches, the bombast, the reci- 
pKxwl compliment'', all struck him with a dash of humour and oven 
of ecom with which blended as well a melanihuly sentiment and a 
tender regret. Or, he bnciei), he might bu an actor called fi' 
provincial company with which he had played happily for a time, 
■ume great London theatre. He felt himself fitted for some high< 
destiny) he despised the mimic sovereigns of tragedy and comedi 
ihe stage strut, the tinsel, the petty jealousy, the aelf-auSicieney 
dense aelf-interest which amothered higher aims and abstract mo 
Already he woa for away from all thin, and yet he was sad to leave the 
old life, sad to think of the Little Queen who was so contented with 
her sphere, and who would perhaps marry the jeun« premier and go 
on playing leading lady to a provincial audience, never dreaming tliat 

ihe had in her the capacity of a Itacbel or a Sarah Bernhardt. 
At laat it was over — the oration!), the chamiiagne drinking, the 

XMnplimeota, The Captain had made his little speech, in which he 
retmnded the company that he waa due in i^ydney at a certain hour to 
catch, the Engliah ni^ boat, and that time and tide would not wait 
tvfsi for an ex-premier and bia successor. Ho they nil left the saloon, 
which somehow remained impressed upon Morse's memory — the stutfy 

Ltmosphere, the gilding, the long table heaped with tropical fruity the 

ic«Dt of bananns snd pineapples, the soft-footed Chinese waiters, ths 
pUfTy, vulgar-looking man at the head of the table, the quaint poetic 
UM of the young girl, and the good-looking, self-eatistied man by her 
wis. They were on deck again, and both steamers were making 
ready to start — the little ateamer, her fla^ flying, pufRng Bpasmodi" 
«ally, and the big one with ila screw slowly heaving. 'I here waa 
much hand-shaking, and there were many cheers given. The Uinislera 
tad Ihnr wives and the passengers for the capital hnd gone on board 
the tender. Koorili, her father, and Cricbton I^etvwr-j -wwp the Us-. 



M 



IS "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

The four stood toMther. Morea toot KoorMi's hnDd in Ws. " Good- 
bye,", he sail), and smiled that winning smile wliiuh lit up his dark 
Nftpoleonio faco. " Good-bye, Little Queen," he added in a loner 
voice. " 1 hope that jou may bo happy in your kingdom." 

lie did not aiid a wish that they might meet again. At that 
mament the thought uppermost in hia mind was that he preferred lo 
keep unspoiled in his recollection that picture of her as she stood cut- 
lined against the grey sky with tlio light of dawn upon her face. 



CHAPTER III. H 

LADY BETPr KOBBB. ^| 

Abodt ten years had pissed away since the parting voBsels separated 
Morse and Koorili. We are in London. There was a great party at 
tbe houae of a London latly of hi^h social distinction — a sort of queen 
of society. It was atill somewhat early in the season — a season tiat 
had lieun specially hrillinnt thus far. It was n very interesting season; 
hecause soon after its o^iening tbere came the sudden collapsa of a 
Ministry believed to be remarkably strong in the sffeotions of ihe 
country. It would be utterly supertiuoua to tell the intelligent reader 
of the unending amount of talk which such an event supplies in circles 
where everybody knows somebody whose career has lor the moment 
been blighted bj the event, and eotne one else whose hopes have been 
set burning brightly. The lady at whouo house this party is taking 
place was in the very heart of London polilical society; and she was 
the wife of one of the fallen Miniatry. Moreover, she was the wife of 
a Miotster who wsa generally credited with having tried to briog about 
the collapse. He had been riding for a fall, people said. He was 
supposed to have found the Cabinet not strong enough in its r;idicalism 
for ois taGtes; to have considered it was wenk-kneed, and not fultUIing 
its promises to the country; and he stood apart somehow; seemed 
to sulk rather; and his attitude encouraged the enemies of the Govern- 
ment, it was argued ; aod these e tieiuies were spirited on to bold ai>d 
persistent endtavours. At litet they succeeded in forming a temporary 
combination of genuige opposition and casual malcontent, and thry 
" went for " the Ministry at a moment of peculiar crisis and carri- d , 
a vote against the G«vartimcnt, and the Qoverument came to an elid 
— eolkpsed like a house of c;in3s. 

Lady Betty Morse was the hoateas whoso piiewts ohoked with their 
carriages and hansom cabs that jiart of I'ark I^nn lu which the lived. 
Lndy Betty was the daughter of the Mnr<juis of Germilion. She waa 
rich ; she was singularly pretty ; she was still well under thirty years 
old, and she waa the wifeof Snndham Morse — "The Itlght Honourahto 
Bandham Morse, M.P.," who had but lately bron one of her MajcGty'^ 
Becretnries of State. It was a love match altogether, society sni'l ; 
G/r ^t^ae'a jmlitica wore directly oppoami lu thoaa of Lord Gci'- 



UlDY BETTY MORSE, 



in, JoAy Tkttj luid Blorse Imd been drawn togelhnr by feelingly 
not politics. And wbea it vrss clear ihtiC she I»v«l hiin, Lunl Oer- 
tuilioa was tvi too Cjud of Us prett; daugliier, his oul^ ctiUd, to Uiiok 
(if crosEing bcr in liar love. He accepted Horse, the Itadic&l from 
the coloniea, with lemarkablj good grace; and congratulated liimsdf 
.that his aoD'iQ'law was a liaing man, s man of acknowledged ainlilir \\ 
and that "he haa th« inestimable sdvantoge of being a gentk 
which, bv Jove, air, can't be said for every Cabinet Minister i.. . _ 
days." Lord GermilinQ had been heatd to express hia regret thai 
since he had no son, the auccosaion to the title cuuld not be settled 
tiia KD-in-law iustcnd of his nephew. 

Notliing could bo prettier than laAy Belly. Ilpr head 
and shapely, and naa set with exquiaite grace on lier slender necltj 
her dark, brown eyes, with a glance in them lilie Ihut of a stag or I 
gaaelle, went wiih iiindly penetration strught to the heart of every 
one i her conversation spnrkled as well aa hec eyes. She did not 
really say very brilliant thines, hut she always conveyed the idea 
vS clcvemese ; and, indeed, ^e was decidedly cliver, although not 
]>erhatia very inleliectuaL She and her husband were, after aevei 
yaara of raatriinony, still very mucli attached to one another, tboii| 
not in the Darby and Joan fashion ; their position put that out 
Ibe question. Lady Betty liked society, and was made for it. t' 
urect out incessantly; and Morse'a political duties n.iturally toi>k 
ft great part of hia tune. Yet thoy saw ench other at soma b' 
in every day, and were considered a devoted couple. Tliey had 
children. Eomotimes a pair are drawn more closely together bocai 
th^ have no cliildren ; the affections concentrale themselves. 

For all that has isoen said in the way of dogma on the subject, it ia 
atill perhaps possible to believe that a poet may i>e mada, although he 
* not been Lorn. But the most disputatious person will not venture 
ain^ay the assertion that a hostess must bo barn, and cannot iK, 
le. Ko training can make a woman into a, hoatesa. Nature m 
have sent her into the world preordnincd and apeciaily constructed 
the high poiiiiio!i. She must bv a sort of living paradox. She m 
be ael^ih enough to have a constant look-out (or ner own advantogf 
and her own success ; she must le unselfish enough to feel a rai 
interoit in every one who comes wilhin tlio authority of her circ|H 
i$he must be brimming over with reody sympathy ; but the aympatbj^ 
mukt not be too deep. She must never be distracted by the rcS,. 
diatress of one person from Iho utterly unreal distrcssea of anothert 
She must make her presence felt by everybody. The ordinary woman 
iif the world, who stands at her drawiiiB~''ooin door and merely goi's 
tluough the ceremonial of formal welcome to her guesis, bears al>out 
the aame relationship to a real hostess that a pump docs to a fouiL> 
■ * , A womnn without a generous, kindly heart could not be 1 
iesa; she would be always merely the unlighled. lanip. But yojT 
really great women— the 8ap])ti08, the Aspaaias, the George Snnijj 
women devoured by cruvinj; for exporioiice, eager lo drink Itfot^P 



1 



30 '^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE^ 

dregs — are not fit for tho comroonplace part of hoateas. Tbcy are Una 
prooCGUpifld ; they would be thrown awny on «uch a ptisilion. ThflV 
are ton atr'-ng, and yet not stroDg enough, fir Iha place. They could 
not help showing that their natures nepded a mora powBrFul stimu- 
lant; anil that they wanted to so^r higher and to go deeper to the 
■very heart of tliinga. 

Lady Betty Morse was a model hffltesB. She stood just outside tlie 
principal reception-room, facing the orowd of arrivals who thronged the 
Bturs and landing. A curtain of heavy, faded-looking arrat: draping 
the doorway made a charming baoltgroimd to her slender form — very 
richly clad, as seemed lo befit her position and the occasion, in bro- 
citded stulT of dull VeneHitn red, with nmsnificent jewela upon the 
ruffled bodice and sparliliog on her neck and in her dark hair. It wa4 
a fancy of Lady Betty's lo dress after a somewhat matronly fashion, 
and in all the winning charm of her manner there waa not the faintest 
trace of coquetry. Adulation, great people, the tlirobhing inierest of 
public affairs, the life at high press-ure of drawing-rooms, ihe ceaseleaa 
round and routine of society, came as naturally to her as to breathe. 
Any one could see at a giance that she liked the work of entertain- 
ing; that she enjoyed it; delighted in it. Her beautiful dark eyes 
sparkled with gmtificaiiun as her giiests grouped around her. She wns 
wonderfully quick; she had a charming little welcome for every one. 
Each man got a sentence, or at least a phra.'^, all to himself; quite 
jieouliar; sometimes spoken with a winning little air of confidence, *■ 
if it were aoDjetUng altogether between him and her with which tho 
outer world had no concern. Men who were but new acijuaintancea 
were Burprined and ohanncd to hear a whispered reference thus made 
to something they had said when they first were introduced to her, 
and which they «?aumLd she had forgntlea long ago. Then she liked 
women as well as men ; and reomen liked her. She never flirted ; but 
In the men whom she really liked and yilucd, there waa a certain 
tenderness in her manner and her tones which they found unspeakaWy 
delightful. Her ways and her looks seemed to say to each of these, 
"Oh yea; I do like you veiy much; and you know it, of course." 
And she did like them in the sincerest way, snd she was not in the 
slightest degree a hypocrite. She was a Irua fiirnd to those whom sTiC 
liked; and, indeed, would have proved herself a true friend to any onu 
who stood in need of friendship and had any claim on her, who had 
I'ven the mere claim on her friendship that is constituted by tlie need 
of a friend. 

A little gi'oup of men hnd ranged themselves just within the door. 
wiy at her beck ; bnt their homage waa of a somewhat aKitract kind. 
'I'liey did not look like men who went in for the business of flirtation — 
they were iwliticians, di|)li>ma lists, men who looked at her with fra- 
ternal admiration — not one after the pattern of reigning adorer to 
a fashionable beauty ; not one whose manner suggested deep personal 
interest, nnleas indeed one might except a hniidsome youth of seven- 
toco or thereaboutfl, with long cmly hair and dreamy eyes, who held 



LADV BETTY MORSE. 



hei fan, took her coinmniiriE, nnd seemed to delii:lit in pluming tti< 
of page. " My pretty pnge " waa indeed Lady Betty s |*t naic 
the boyi Lenny, who was hrr latest whim, and who hung about h( 
picturesquely. 

Il wa» a very cburming scene. Lady Bi-tty's house, like eveTlbiag, 
else about her, was perfect in its own way, thou^li uothiug in it 
Be«ined to flauat merit. It was not gorgeous, nor eccentric, nor even 
nrtistic, in the accepted sense of tha word. Laily Betty bad no syni- 
pathy vrith the ffisthetio niorement. She did not aGect the early 
English, the OiientaL, the Japanese, the KenaiBHUice (style, or any 
olher of the prevailing fads of fashion in the matter of furniture or 
decoration. There were no tawny stuffs from Liberty's; no grotesque 
porcelain monsters ; no strange patterns of frieze or dado, llut Lady 
Betty liked s|)acioua rooms aud an barraoniouB background. Thera. 
vraa a great hall in the centre of tbe bouse, its ceiling reaching to tl ~ 
roof, galleries rankling its sides, and a broad oak staircase that 
have been brought from eonie manorial castle. 'I'bero was 
tai^eetry, and there were dccp-bued hangings, and a wonderful medley 
tif rare and beautiful things, not one of which clashed with the olber. 
All, in studio jargon, composed well ; no single article was obtruUTe, 
even io worth. Priceless chiua tried to hide itself in recossiis, in quaint 
cabinets, and ulx)ve CRrred ledges. There were pictures, not too many, 
■nd mostly landscapes, all gema. There were mirrors, rellecting iMiok 
lights aivl people, but set so cunningly that it was difficult to believe 
Ibey were mirrors. Tbe lights were ck'ctric, soft, and dear; the 
frames were old Florentine. 'I'he portraits, what there were, the Ger- 
ijiilion anceslry not insisted upon, ivere mellow in lone, pottic, suggi 
tive. And yet, was Lady Betty quile poetic? Can a woman o' "' 
world dislil jjoetry? 

Evnry one who attended Lady Betty Morse's receptions wn 
ft atudent of men and manners, worthy of note. A reprcsentati 
Mlmost all grades of ariijtocratio I'bilisria and upper Bohemia might be 
foDnd there this evening. Prospective monarchy, giving evidence of 
the trumpeted Guolph memory for faces in affable recognitions to right 
And left, and a lovi-ly princess, who cLiima flowery metaphors, graceful 
as the lily and sweet as the heliotrope, the colours of which she was 
Wt Biing to-night. Lower in the scale, the in-eproacbable queen of the 
stags whom lashion had set u|i in place of deposed soverelgiis — more 
nagnetic ferbaps, but soul-vi brat fug electricity was for the moment 
out of dale; a great statesman, creeled eagle among bawlta; a great 
coldier, many soldiers; the last thing in foreign serenities, and tbe 
tifweat innovalion in the shape of bejowelled Maliarajahs; the tra- 
gedians of Society ; its licensed jesters ; and tbe generals of tbe army 
of Art. 

All such, and mnny more, greater or lesser, upright on their feet, 

iome on the outer fringe turning wistful glances towards vacant ch^rg. 

There hail been a diuuer party, of course, at Lady Betty's befora the 

ononng party. 'I'he diuner was ^ven in honour of a royal \>riaoe atA. 






ley ^1 



1 



22 *'THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

princess. Lad; Rett; ha'l odc« been a maid of honour or BometU 
ot that kind ; and Itoyalty put up with her husbnnd's ecoent ' ' 
for her sake. Tha dinner pnrty ivaa a little slow. For o 
not a word was said aliout politica ; »nd juat «t that moment e'J 
body was interested in puiitics. The new Administration had cot ■ 
quite formed; end people were dying to know who waa to baTel 
place and who was to have th^t. But Lady Setty went in resolia 
for bringing all BortB of politicians together; and this priociplo ; 
tftted neutrality of oonverHation at least at dioBer. There were 
bitter opponents of her husband's principles present ; and besid 
was understood that Royalty, just Ihen, would rather not hear 
thing about politics. Enough could be said on the subject wheafl 
company went upstairs and iho guests had come to the erening w^ 
ecd the rooms were filled, and tdliing was done in groups or tefd-a 

One of the guests nt the ilinner-table, the new American Mini 
stood now well within tha circle, and made hia keen and e" 
humorous observations on living London. 

There had been some trouble that day, as tiers often w 
a London dinner party, in settling the order of precedenca when 
American Minister woa concerned. More than one perplexed hc« 
had found herself compelled late on the afternoon of her dinner jd 
to send in breathless haste to consult high official authority as tf 
place which ought to be assigned to the American Minister in a _ _ 
cession which included not only royal personages — their position la 
fixed tu fate — and archbishops, and a cnrdinal, and a duke or two, but 
also the jealous ambassadors of great European powers, and aereral 
poera of yesterday's creation, sensitive to the q^uick about all honour 
due to their fire-new titles. 

Mr. Paulton was a very handsome and stalely man ; bo tall and 
commanding that ho threw everybody, liojalty included, into a sort o( 
insigniScanco. He had been a gr«nt political orator in his day. Ha 
was now falling into years— had left sixty a good way behind ; but yet 
stood with the erectness of a tower, and conld endure fiktigite, even 
the fati™ of aocial pleasure, like a boy. Mr. Paulton was now to the 
Lost and hostess and to the whole affair. That is, when we say ho 
was new to the host, he had never spoken to Morse before, but he had 
heard of him, and was greatly interested in him. He was also greatly 
interested and puzzled by the manner in wiuch everybody Edaressed 
the illustrious princeBS as " ma'am." " One might have Ibmight W8 
we were all talking to a Kew England school-marm," he said to hitn- 
seir. He was discreet, and said nothing on the subject to any one elae.^ 
and after a while found himself replying to some gracious inquiry oj 
Hoyalty with the word "ma'am" on his lips. It amused him. "1 ■■ 
am getting on in court ways," lie tliought, " I slioU presently bfl 
denounced in wrae of our papers nt homo as a minion of fioyalty and 
a court sycophant." 

Mr. Paulton was intelligently inqiiis.tive, like many of his country- ,- 
wen, and he B'ns very anxious to *ak a few questions about men and iM 



HA" I 

LADY BETTY MORSE. 



putiea. Me was glad when the dinner wm over and the coinpany 
bU gone upataira and the rooms were thoroughly well filled. Atler 
b&d had to Hubmit to many formal iQtroductiims, he fbuod himi 
happily near a good-tookiog, pnle, slender younv man, whose fitca 
had observod with liking at the din nor- Cable, /ud with whom he I 
exchanged £ome agreeable words. Hd got into converaaliua with this 
ywta% man, and anted him some qU(!stiuiiB, nhiuh were anawei«l with 
great frankness and courtesy. 

"Our host doesn't seem to be much put out by the fall of the 
Administration he belonged tc," the American Miniatur ventured Wf 
■ay- And he glanced towards whem Morse was slandtiig. 

MorsB looked very utately and dignified as ho entertained his gueat 
He had grown aomcwhat stouter and stroDger-locklng than when 
sawbicn lastj but his face was atill ashandaomein its peculiar way, 
Striking and as finpolconic. 

" I aUuuld think he ia deliglitel," was the ans^ver. " They sa.'" 
wanted to get out of it long ago. He ia an ambitious man, ani 
had not much of a chance there, 1 fancy." 

"lam interested in him particularly," Ihe American Minister 

" Tou know he was in the States for a while, and wna malsing a tanrW 
there Vben he suddenly went back risht away to Eagliind. Wull, 
suppose he liked bis own country best." 

" He didn't stay there, all the same. He went out to one of th« 
Auftialian culonira, and got to be at the bend of nn Adrnitdstratlon 
iherei and then b^ threw up the whole alfi.ir and came back ngain to 
HngUnd. I was out in the Fiji I^laI1dB myself afterwards, and I -jsl-J 
to hear about bim." 

Hr. Pauiton looked keenly at bis companion. " Out in the Fiji 
lalandsl" he repeated, as if wondering what thii well-appointed 
IwrGOO had been doing in so barbiirous a place. "Then you are some. 
ttuog of an outsider in this EOrt of thing, like niy^lf. I shouldn't 
bATS guesEed it." 

The youn^ mau smiled. Hia smile was plensn^nt, but it had in it 
Kiaething abstract — vaguely cynical. He did not reply at onCe. His 
eyes ranged the scene, taking in evorylhing — from tie central group, 
the starry nucleus, to the somewhat belated hangers-on, eagerly atrain- 
■ I- 

** I suppose any one who thinks must be an outsider at'this sort of 
thing,' tbouRh be needn't bo so in the ordinary sens';," was his leply. 
" \t interests mo to loolf on at (his whirl of London soinety, and see 

B poor birds rising up and beating their wini^s, knocking all the 
feslhera off, some of them, and coming doivn very much the worse for 
their pains." 

The American laughed. "That's so. Climbers, eh I But I should 
have thought most of them here to-night belonged naturally to the 
top,' 

" "Tljl aocial dialinction, place, power I It all comes lo the eamc," 
■*^ -«- 11 jf people would, uuly *'wt tUa whola 



I 




U "r^£ RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

thing out like an algebraical problem, tbo man B'bo U>tliercd himself 
to tjnd z would learn that he had better haye occupied bimtielf tilth 
A and B, which were cloEe at hand." 

" I guess if MorBB is a climljer he'll ataj in England this time," the 
American MiniBter Boid, with a peculiar geature. " Quite tlie lieiDg 
man, is be not V" 

" Risen man, I should a1m(«t aa^. He must bo leader of a par^. 
It only waitB for him to form a party out of the wreck and welter of 
things here. He seems to have got everything. He is rich, through 
bis wife, of course, and fhc adorcti him. She is a queen of society, and 
every one adores her. Wo tell her so, and sba doesn't mind ; it doeen't 
seem to spoil her one little bit." 

" He ought to be a ha[ipy man — yet he don't look like it." 

"'Ihink not? Oh yes; he is very happy. He delights in the 
great political game he is playing ; and his ivife plays the social game 
for bim jusC as well, or better." 

" I have gcot a way of looking at faces," said the Americaa, " and 1 
study the line of the forehead just above the eyes when a man' 
ia in repose; and I find it tells you a good deal. Noiv, there is 
thing depressed and melancholy about this man." 

The young man looked again at bis htot. Evidently tbia v 
Morse's character had not occurred to him before. 

"I don't know why he should bo melancholy. lie has got 
all be wants, 1 should think. He says very clever and an 
things in liis speeches sometlmeii. No ; 1 shouldn't think b( 
melancholy; a man like him hasn't time to be." 

" Do you think be is a sincere man ? " the American asked, 
direct way. "A sincere man, or an ambitious man merely? 
statesman, or a politician — if you understand bow we Ameiicatu use 
the word politician and the sort of distinction we make," 

"In that sense I ahould eay a eincere man, certainly ; I am sure he 
believes all he says. But I think he is ambitious, too. 1 really don't 
knon him very well ; we don't seem to bit it off quite. I don't think 
lie is serious enough in his views of things." The young man was a 
little embarrassed now, and spoke with a winning sort of dil^dence. 

"No? Not serious enough, with that face?" 

"No; not in my way. I think a man with his influence over th& 
people — the peo|ile adore him, you know— could do Iretter than fbna 
jiolitical combinations. I tliink he ought to go for social reform, and 
for trying to make our people sober and good and believers in aU 
that is good. What England wants is moral refuiToation — more, muob 
more, than political reform. Morse does not i^e tlii». I think that 
is one reason why we don't suit each other. I dare say it ia my fault [ 
1 don't do him justice, perhaps. Every man must have his own way,'' 
the young man added modestly. 

There was a moment's pause in the converiiation. 

"What kind of a party would Morse l^e likely to fonn, do 
think ? " Mr. Pnulton asked. 



•r,^ 

J 



BLADr BETTY MORSE. aj I 
lething very radical; democnLtic, in our English sense of tlie 
I am much misLaken if lUorse hiie nut eel hi^ lieurt on laying 

the fbiindatioiis of a regular republican paity In the Uoiiac of Coio- 

" Do you mean that he would xaiderraine the throne?" 

The young man laughed. " They've begun to do that already, 
baven't Ihey? They're undermining tie House of Lords." 

Together and involuntarily boili the speakora p!;kncBd in Uie 
idirectioa where Royalty vas aUnding in the midat of its little imnie- 
'diatc circle. This was a large party ; many of the company bad not 
ibeen brought no closely within the inBuenca of Koyalty before, and 
the influence was just at the moment a little chilling. That woa not 
^Boyalty'a fault; Royalty was very gracious, and knew how to show 
its graciouanpBB. Stltl, to those who are nut quite need to such a 
presence and influence, it is ttying. We are delighted to he there, of 
'course. Are we not free BriCoiu 7 Do wb not rule the waves ? — go 
to; Bod do no not csultin being brought near to great personages? 
But the joy has a certain. uncasinesB in it. It is a fearful joy. Wo 
Biay not be doing quite the right thing; Koyalty may look at us at 
ithe VTong time ; may catch us in something awkwacd ; may stuils at 
us. All tim has to be considered. Ladies were being presented to 
Eo^ty every now and then, and were ducking down to the carpet in 
.bcconiing reverence. Morse was standing quite near Hoyalty just at 
the moment when the American Minister looked cound. 

" I don't eupposB things are quite ripe for tliat with you," he said 
In a low tone. " It is hard for a stranger to understand your affairs ; 
but 1 shouldn't have thought there was the least chauce fir such & i 
party aa that — if it really means to knock down dummies. I re- ■ 
member very well the saying of Genaral Frhn, after he hod turned the J 
Bourbons out of Sp^n, and people thought he was going to set up a , 
Tcpublio— I knew General Prim — ' Tou can't have a republic without 
republicans,' he said. Is not that saying applicable to England ? " 

" Seems a little odd, our discussing the question just here uuder the 
veiy eyes of H.B.H. himself. You had better talk to tlorse about it 
privately some time ; he will esplaia his views much better than I 
could. I have never spoken to him about it. I dine here often, but 
'hi doesn't talk much to me. I coaao here liecause of Lady Betty, 
die is a cousin of mine, and I'm very foud of her. I wish she hadn't 
msniod biro. I have said so to her, and a pretty snubbing I got, I 
hcui tall you." 

' Tfae speaker was evidently anxious to turn away the talk from 
volitics ; and the American Minister and he drifted apart fioon after. 
Mt, PaultuD was curious to know the name (>f the very agreeable 
"jWROn with whom he hod been tnlking so freely. He asked 
.vho happened to come near him and whom he know slightly. 

"That man? Oh, that's Arden — L»rd Arden, son of the Earl 






1 



I 36 "THE EIGHT HONOURABLE,'' TH 

"Lord ArJen? Well, yes; he repreaenta a Birt of new-fnahionea 
school in society and politics. Ha is a mediffival Tory, a stainad-glas»- 
attitiide reaclionary, who goes in fur virtue, temperance, and the 

■ Lord Arden waa an enthusiast. He was one of the young npostlea 

ot a new school of purity. He believed in the possibility of so elevating 
the standard of morality in modem life as to make it the duty of man 
to he UB pure Ra the duly of womnn is alwaj-s declxred to be. It waa 
understood that hamade his own life confoim strictly to this principle; 
Hnd there wns a certain unaffected nobleness of manner about him 
which prevent«d even men of the world from laughing or sneering at 
him. He was the Idol of a great many women ; matrons of a dero- 
tional turn, or serious girls with exalted views of life. He was the 
son of a shy, eccentric nobleman — a carious figure in modern society, 
for he seemed to belong to a far past time, and was indeed the devotee, 
the last perhaps^ of the lost Jacobite cause. Lord Aiden had soma of 
his father'a shyness, but very little of his eccentricity. He was hand- 
some and graceful; ho dreeacd well; he had a sweet, clear voice; ho 
had a great deal of quiet humour. In the House of Commons, he was 
considered obs ot the best speakers among the younger men there; 
and ho was already a recognized authority on many social questions, 
such as the condition of the artisan population, and the houeing of the 
poor. Ho was sincerely devoted to thevarioua beneficent causoswhich 
he hnd taken up. He pOEilively sjient mote time and eneigy in doii^ 
good than moat other young men of his class spend in doin^ haim. 
Lord Forrest was intensely fond of his aon ; and proud of him in ■ 
half-melancholy sort of way. In his brighter mooda it pleased him to 
think of hia own wasted career being fulnlled in the career of his son. 
Arden had never quite liked Morao. For ono reason, perhaps, 
nlthough Arden was not quite conscious of being now influeDCed by it, 
he had rather resented Morse's Iipcoming the huahaad of Lady Betty, 
Lord Arden w.ts, as he hnd told Mr. Paulton, a cousin of Lady Betty, 
and was very much attached to her ; not at all in a lover-like way, but 
with n very aincere aH'ection, He had a good many caste prejudicof, 
though ha would not have owned to them. He thought Morse was 
not good cnougli for her ; was not the sort of man she oupht io have 
for a husband. Probably he would have held the same opinion about 
any other man who ventured to ask Lady Betty to marry him. But 
he made a handle against Morse of his radical pohtics and his all but 
revolutionary theories as they appeared to Arden. Morse was in fact 
a man of too strong a fibre to be much to Lord Arden's taste; and 
then Morse bad no belief in the possibility of much permanent or loi^- 
tibiding good being done by philanthropic organizations or by conlr 
mtttees for the promotion of virtue. Morse believed in regeneratins 
society by ma^g men independent, by giving them education, ana 
striving to open a clear way for all by the abolition of classdistinctiom 
"Loose him, and let him go" was the principle Morse applied to 
He bad, ia spite of hiniBelf, a sort of contempt for Lord Ardcn'a v 



1 



-AFTER LONG YEARS." 



ribbon brotherhoods, and did not believe they would in 
anjlhiiignhateEer towatds the purificatiun of the world. Lord Aitlm, 
n the other biuid, was all for aien concerDiDg themwlvM kbout thett 
_ulies rather than about their riglits. Lady Ik'tly vent of cniirH 
openly and avowedly with her busbniid, and took hi* viawi of ib« 
nialccT, ta she felt bound to do ; bitt in bcsr heart she bad much «f m- 
palhy with Ardej.'s pliilanthrojiy, aad with hia drtianiii of inanho«l 
made puno thruugh the influence of a social orgaiiizaliuo, a Ivaguo, and 
« libbon. 



1 



CHAPTBii IV. 

" APTEU \/)SO TBAB8 



I.ADT Bettt, still standitifr near the doorway, algnnllcd her huahond 
and whispered to him behind berfa.n, which whs a scrctin of dull rod 
oatrich pfumee fastened Into a jewelled handle, " 8iindhatn, lore, I do 
want your help. There's a colonial agent-general here — I forget his 
nam»— Sir Yesey Plympton aent him to me with nicA B letter of 
introduction — and h« has such a lovely shy little beauty of a wifo. 
They have just come, and they don't know anybody, and iilie can'l 
talk to dull people — and our people to-niaht are so very dull I I want 
you to come and talk to him, and say nice tbinga — vury oloe thing 
nind [ — to her. Look 1 she is ihere, cloae to old Lady l''otbeliiighat 
Good gracious, what a contrast ! " 

And looking in the direction indicated by his wife's words Sandli 
Morse saw Ki'OiJili. Changed, indee<t, but still the Koorilll be had ' 
md had kept in his mind — more or less, less perhaps rather than 
— outlined against the f^y sky, with the light of an Australian dawnj 
upon hor face, llow did Bbe look now ? Far more beautiful, tnon? 
developed; her face even more eiprearivei a child of nature turnsdl 
into a contetn Illative woman — a woman who had lived, who had baj>l 
a life, who baa been forced by fnte to laato of the tree of knowledge. ^ 

"lan't Rhe pretty?" Lady Betty asked. "Do you know, 1 think ' 
■faa bat a look of me.'' 

Tea; there loos a fiiint resemblance. It struck bim now, struck 
hin Gorioualy, like a breath uf icy wind, like a gUoeC passing. Tlie 
be^bt, the figure, the form of each £tag-Iii;o bead, the colour of the 
eyes. But there it ended. Lady Betty's quick, B[4Lrkliiig glances had 
not that dreamy far-aeeing Itind of ropoHe. 

A gbosl ! Of what 7 Of a past tfiat had been only a shadow. 01 
ma ideal Ibat had never had any substance ; tliat had not indeed 
])reselit«d itself deBnitely to bis imaginalion, but hud only glided by, 
thrilling vafc"^ sug^eationB into thoughts for a little while, and then 
fading into loss than a memory. 

Jl was atrange, this flash of vivid sensibility, and out of keeping 
Wilh bu MMTtouuilinsa naj with his mood ot a tcw TQomffitAa \iws«*. j 



1 

;1 



V 



"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 



He luid beeo watching hi» wife, admiring her beauty, tact, and idT^ 
pooseaaion, and enjoying the sight of her popularity. He hnd paid the 
coQVGDtioQal dues nitli almost a sense of sntisfaction. He had too 
proper an appreciation of drama — of any kind — not to peiform eren 
the conventional part of host to iho best of Lis ability. 

On the whole be had been very happy, iu his way, all the evening. 
The course of recent events hod plenaed and contented bim. He had 
beea sick of bis restricted career as a member of a so-called progressivB 
ROTemment which was not progressing in anything, and it was an 
immense relief to him when nn 'Odd combination of cbAncos had come 
ill to throw it oyer. He bad not worked against it in any conscious 
way, he had not really ridden for a fall, he had lieen strictly loyal to 
hia chief and his coUeaguoa; but he was sincerely rejoiced when tha 
end came, regarding it as Ihe end of a sham, long endurance of which 
would be for him an impossibility. He had a keen aenso of humour, 
and had been amused at the idea of a mnn of bis pTinciples entertaining 
lloyalty under his roof— for his ideas and principles were unfavourable 
to Koyalty as an abiding institution. But he was not a pedaat even 
to his own principles, and whila Royalty lasted he was quite willing 
thttt it should laat and have all appropriate honours paid to it. Still, 
it was curious how, the moment he bhw KoorSli — of whom, to say 
Eootli, he had not been thiukiag much of recent years — he remembered 
her childish talk about aovereigntiea and republics. 

The whole scene was before Morse again ; and his mind went back 
iu on instsnt to all the memories of that morning, to many trivial 
circumstances and details — Utile bits of confereation and eympathe^O 
looks — forgotten ever since then, and now suddenly brought back to 
fresh aod living reality by the mere sight of a woman in the corner ol 
a room. Does one, indeed, ever really forget anything? Does not the 
most evanescent, or seemingly evaneiicent, emotion make its indulihlfl 
imprecaion on the heart and on the memory, which it needs only the 
touch of the right influence to bring into vivid outlines once again ? 

Morse tenicmbered in a moment Koor&li's own name ; but he bad 
forsotten the name of her hiiebacd, whose face he recognised. Ha 
had sleo a dim recollection, now burnished up by the same process of 
association, a recollection of having heard that Middlemist had married 
his daughter to a young member of the Qovenimont, a man not 
politically prominent in his own time, but whom he had known slightly, 
and who had left an unliivouiatle imprcsrion on him — the very mnn, 
indeed, whom he temembered having seen near her en hoard the 
steamer that day. 

The two were together now. Crichton Kenway was speaking to 
Eoor^U, aod he had the look which a husband sometimes wears when 
he ia obliged to talk to his wife in a large aasenihly because no OU 
else seems to desire his conversaiion. Evidently he was commantkg 

upon the people present, and the was lislenicg iti a preoccupied 

AS though he had not said anything particiuarly entertaining. 
did not Jcok the sort of man who woiSd vks the tvouLllla to he 






I 



"AFTER LONG YEARS." aj] 

for his wife's benefit. Chaiigh there irns a tinge of West Rad cyniciBn' 
in his sppearaace. Morse obaerved KoorMi's hiiKband with an icittirMl 
strong CDOu^h to iDake him quite aw^ro ol a feeling of diwippQiiitmeQl, 
eren before he remembered who the mnn was. Why, he could not 
have said, had he takca ihe trouble to analyze, imlcas it were that hia 
fancy encircled Kooiili, the bright wild-falaun womnn, with a poetjo 
halo ; and there seemed Bomothing incougrnous in this muting of her 
with a good-looking, well-mannered mau of the conventional type-^ 
sUwght features, sleek ckse-cropped head, blonde moustache, and fsult- 
leaa clothes, all coinplet« — who presumably had no more poetry in hia 
eouatitution than nine out of any ten husbands entering a Lonilon 
drawing-room in the wake of a handsome wife. 

Votse was obliged to admit, however, that if Konway was conven- 
tional, he could not be called commonplace. His long lean neck saved 
him &om the stigma. That Tery neck, craning now, took CricLton's 
gaze full upon an Australian magnate — Lady Betty's Sir Vosey Plymp- 
ton — who aheari'd his sheep in tens of thousaods, fattened on the 
traditions of a lately-acquired hiatorio residence, employed paragraph ists. 
to chrooicle his doings in society, and patronized, from a sense of ~ 
duty, such colonial small fry aa agenta-gc-neml. Criohton mt.ved aw( 
to epeftk to him, and at that moment Morse came forward and cauj ' 
KoorUi'e eye. 

A look of relief^ welcome, and unfeigned delight came into her face, 
Bhs made a gracefal, tihy movement, with both hands extended for an 
instant, then, as if checking the impulse, let one fall, and gave him 
(he other in a fumial greeting. It was no surprise tu her to see him. 
She had known to whose house they were coming. She had only 
wondered if he woiild remember her, not expecting that ho would, yel 
feeling a little pang when she found that he did not notice her. She 
had been dazzled by Lady Betty, in whom she felt a peculiar interest, 
and she had watched Morse as he paid his ho:nago to the Boyaities, 
and did the honours of bis house, realizing what an important person 
he was, noting the look of dignity and of conscious power which had 
deepened in him, and marvelling that she still felt the thrill of sympathy 
vhich had seemed so natural^though it was so wonderful now — when. 
she had sat by his side on the steamer deck, and chattered ' " ' 
her puoy world. 

llie thoughts of both travelled swiftly and met like the clat] 
hands. 

" KoorMi, Little Queen ! " he said. He could not tell why the 
words came to his lips. He could not think of any others. He could 
Bob aee bor as a married woman, as the wife ol Mr. Anybody. He 
etmld only see the bareheaded girl of the Australian morning, whom 
Judge O'Beime had called "The Little Qiicen." It was as if a ghost 
had poosod by her, too. An indHG.nablo change came into her face, 
iHting a second only, but touching him to the quick. He had struck 
K ^aintive chord. The keynote of her lifb was a sad one. Hs know 
H Ofa divtuing instinct that dnrted straight from him to her^aiid want 



^f »^H 



/(^B 

M 



L sm 



■VW 

30 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 

down to tho rcrj root of thinga. It bewildered bim an isatant, 
said, confusedly, "1 forgot, 'lime seenia so Bhort. A meeting ot >ue 
other Bide of the ooean may be lite yeBterdayi and yet a whde oceao 
of ejperience lying lietween." 

"Judge O'Beime is dead,'' ehe said Himply. "He died not long 
lifter — alter my father became pKmior. And then," she added, with 
ratter a pathetic Emile, " people soeii forgot to call me by that foolish 
pietty naine," 

"Even tlia pilots ?" asked Morse. " Surely they were faithful lo 
their allegiance." 

"Oh," she answered, "1 didn't go buck to Muttaliarra till I had 
been married a long time." 

" You married V " Her straight look forbade polite evasions. 

"1 married Mr, Keoway — ^Crichton Kenway. He wna Poatmagter- 
General in my tather'a Ministry — twice. Mow they have made him 
Agent-General for South Briton," 

"1 think 1 heard — I ought lo have kept pace better with colonial 
affairs — but the truth is liat the times have been marching fast in 
Euglaiid ; and so 1 suppose that 1 have lost tuuch a little of Australia." 

" Ah I " said Kooriii. " I understand why South Britain teemed 
such a little place to you, though I thought it so big — then. You are 
a great man now in the groat world." 

She looked at him intently as ehe spoke quickly but in a low tone. 
She was ihinking of the part he playid in that England which wu 
now the greatest conccivablo world to her. IJbe was not awe-stricken 
by him ; but only deeply interested. Slie was not wondering what 
memory he had of her, but only abHorbed in her memory of bim and 
(tf bersolf, Of the two, the Australian girl had the hotter of it, 
Koor&li was not in the hast embajrassed or consaloun ; Morse naa like 
one who is labourini; to speak of common tilings while his mind is in 
leality trying to find the track of some bug- forgotten or half-forgotten 

There was a rift in the cmwd. Crlchton Kenway had left, or had 
been dropped by. Sir Veaey Plympton, aud wns seen approaching bia 
wife. Miirse's eye fell upon bim. 

"I think that I had the honour of knowing your husband in 
Australia," he said, arui held out a hand i>f formal welcome to lienway, 
" 1 am very glnd to renew our acqunintanoe, Mr. Kenway. I con- 
gT^itulste you on your important positioni and still more, ever bo 
much more, on your marriage." 

Kenway, wliile he acknowlodned tha greeting, gave a sudden furtivB 
luok At Morse. He was wouderiog uhether Morse meant sii^cern aesa- 
gratulatiiin, and whether he really was taken wiih KoorfLli and thought 
her attractivu and presentable. Kenway was one i>f those men who 
only admire ihrough the admiration of some one eise. The price ha 
set on anything was the price somcbudy else would have paid fur iL 
He was curious to know whether Morse, the sucoeesful English stalavi 
man, the man to whom all eyes in England were turned just now 



3 



"AFTER LOJ^G Y£ARS.' 



Fipectancy and curiosity, Morse, ihe buaband of la,\j Betty, 
really hava seen somctbiDg to admire in KoorilL 

"Your wife — I mean Lady Betly Morao" — he said, in his clear, 
Blirillish voice, " bna hvea kind enough to offer to call on Mrs. Konway. 
Uay I iiope that you will also kindly honour her with a call — soma 
Ume!" 

Kootili had not the least iden whelhcr it was or was not the ciisUiin 
of English society fur Btatesmen to waste their time ja calling on 
women; but she felt as if Kenway ought not to Lave made fluch a 
reqaeat of Morse. She said quietly — 

" Dear Crichton, men like Mr. Morse don't make calls of that kind, 
I am Eure. I don't expect it. Tou haven't tinif, Mr Morse, to make 
caIIs on everyl ody." 

" 1 don't inaku lalla on everybody," Morse siiid ; " but you are not 
everybody. If you will allow me, I shall certainly make an early call 
on you. I want to talk bt you of all sorts of things. I want to ask 
you about my old friends in South Britain ; I want to hear from you, 
Ur. Ktmwaj, abont all your movementa out there." 

Kenway had aome cut-aud-dried reraarka to moke upon the political 
aspect of South Britain. Morse listened in silent alteotion, but hi» 
eyes straytd. Preseoily Lord Arden came up to his host. 

"Lddy Betty sent me to you, Mr. Morse, 1 believe the Prince and 
IMnoese are going." 

Uotve introduced Lord Arden to Koorili. " I shall End you again, 
IUtb. KcDway," he said, as he moved nway. 

"I think I know tome relations of yours, Mrs. Eenway," be^ran the 
young man, in hla easy abrupt way. "1 met them just lately nl 
They're going to live in our county— Lady Betty's county, I alioi 
eay. Hasn't your husband a place in it ? '' 

"Ahl My little hunting-box, tte Qrey Manor," said Kenway 
an off-hand manner which did not somehow strike true. "But y 
ara thinking of the Priory-by-the- Water, the plice my people lived 
for generations. Unfortunately, however, the place passed away from 
my bmily before I became its representative. My younger brother 
haa lately bought it back. It was probably that brother— Eustace — 
and hia wife whom you met abroad." 

^ Exactly," returned Lord Arden. "Your brother I met for 
Srvt time. I knew Mrs. Eustace Kenway very slightly Inst y< 
when she was Miss Gilchrist, and I was surprised to come across 
fls a bride. Your brother is to be congratulated; and you also, Mri 
Kenway." 

" We have only been a short tiraa in England," said Koorili. " I am 
almost a stranger. 1 do not know my sister-in-law yet." 

"Tou will UJie to htr. Unlike most — " Arden's slight pause was 
peroeptibie — "most women who have a lot of money, she is perfectly 
oownright original and unalfected. 1 hear that she has set about 
jcstoring the Priory -by- the-Wiiler in magnificent style. We shall 
Dare one cause of complaint against her, however. 1 am told that '~ 



>j^ 



tbroodj^^ 
sboul^^H 

>^ay ^H 

ace— y 

TtiM 
/a 



at l^Jdl 



1i 

la of ftiV 



ji "TI/E RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

her ardour for refanu she has begua by scraping the outsida o 
fine old huusD — our duar titne-wuru stone of the Midlanda. Mm. 
Ken^aj, you ehould atop it. You doa't look like a porBon who could 
calml/ see barbarities perpetrated." 

Eenway laughed a Uttle uneasily. He Beemed glad of the diversion 
occasioned by the departure of the Hoyaltiea. The conversation 
dropped, and presently tliey lost Lord Ardao, The crowd seemed to 
tliickea as people moved about more freely. The oppression of grcat- 
neas had been heavy. It was now as if a hurd«n had been lifted, a 
strain relaxed. Tired dowagers could at last sit down and take their 
rest ITve party broke up very Boon. Lady Betty's parties on off- 
nights at the House wore always early. Morse had not returned to 
the drawing-room. Kenway, roving curiously round, saw him in one 
uf the inner rooms in close conversation with a young diplomatist, an 
envoy from a great foreign State, sent specially over to settle — some said 
to unsettle — a serious question ia dispute with England. He had been 
pdnted out to Kenway ; he was one of lie lions of the season. Ha 
was quite a young man, handsome, with smnll, full, silky brown beard, 
and a sweet smile. He was bamboozling the English Government, 
people said, 

Kenway wondered why MnrsH should be so deep in conversation 
with the Spaeia! Envoy. "Can he be putting Mm up to dodges to 
worry the fellows now in oEce?" he thought. Kenway was very 
curious, and believed himself very obaorvant. He was very observant ; 
but one may be quick to observe and draw wrong coni:lu5ion3. The 
monkey might, with the catspaw of observatLon, draw out sometimes 
a cinder instead of a chestnut. 

Koorilli attracted no further attention, and Eenway, di^atisQed and 
a little peevish, took ber away. The Americans still held the position, 
he ruefully reBeoted. Clearly, Australian lieauty had not yot risen m 
the market 



CHAPTER T. 



It was a picturesque and a pretty sight. Lady Betty was sitting in a 
low chair near the hearth. On the hearthrug, quite close to her, young 
Lenny had flung himself down. He was at her feet; and, with hi> 
head partly turned round, be was looking up into her face with eyaa 
full of admiration and devotion. Her hand was resting tenderly on 
the boy's hair, which she was touching with a sort of caress. She was 
very fond of Lenny, her " pretty pige." He was dovotad to her. Per- 
ha|]s with her tender feeling for him theie was mingled the sense of 
regret Ihat shewaschildlei's; that no boyofhei own would ever stretch 
himself At her feel and look up to her with love and reverence. *- 

It was a pretty sight. So M'lrse ihought as. returning after taking '■ 



HUSBAND AND WIFE. 

l«ya of bis last guest, the young Special Envoy, he stiippi'd for ■ 
ffioment on ihe tiresliold of Uie drawing-room and looUrd oa ut ti 
twoi — the young childless wife and Iha boy. A deep feeling of sadnei 
perhaps rather of dissatisfactioD. came into bis niuid, however; nnd !l 
men were really in the habit of sighing, na they do in boobs, Moral 
would hsve sijhed, Tai-tly he felt for the childless wife; partly, to<L 
hiB feeling was for bimaeir — not a seLSsh feeling, but yet a feeling fcj 
himEclf. No thought of jealousy, in the comiuon sense of the uorj ' 
could have come inio his mind. £ven if Lenny bad not been s 
young, a mera boy in fact, he could have had no jxtsaiblo feeling 0_ 
that kind. The sweet purity of Lady Betty's nature would not have 
allowed a very Leontes of a husband to admit such a suspicion. But 
Morse found it brought home to his inmost conscioiisoess that be waa 
not all in nil to hia wife. A ccrtaia tender frivolity in her temper»< 
menl seemed to make on atmosphere around her iu which he could not , 
breatho. She loved to be omueed, and to ba amused with novcltlea;' 
s&d Lenny's open devotion was as a new toy to her. 

Hone remained on the threshold only for a moment, then ho eama . 
into the room. Lady Betty looked up to him with welcoming eye*. 
She Biill kept her hand on Lenny's hair, and Lenny remaine ' ' ' ' ' 
attitude of affection and devotion. 

"Come, Sandhsm, dear," she said, "sit diimi somewhere, and let utj 
talk for a moment before this boy goes home. What will youj 
say to mo, Lenny, for letting you stay here so long 1 " 

" Oh, she won't mind," Lenny aaid. " And I like to stay for a b 
when everybody else has gono. I eay, Mr. M^rse, I wish you wou' 
take me for your private secretary. Won't you prevail on him, Lai 
Betty? He 11 do anything you ask him." 

"' Will he, indeed?" Lady Betty asked, with a smile. " Well, yoi J 
I really believe be would; anything reaaoonble, Lenny — as long an 
I don't interfere wjtb his pet theories — and I don't mind theni. BuH 
you are not quite old enough, dear boy, to be a great public man'tf 
secretary just yet ; now are you ? " 

"Well, but when lam grown up?" 

" When you are grown up, Lanny," Morse said, with the peculia: 
winning amile which had such a charm in it, " I promise you 1 w 
take you for my private secretary — if you a9k me than," 

Tliere was a melancholy tone in his words which neither Lady Batty J 
nor Lenny noticed. The boy leaped up from hia position of prostnit^ 
derotion and cbaped Morse's hand in delight and gratitude. 

"Coma, DOW, I Bay," he excLumed, "you ore such a good on 
to goiid, Lady Betty?" 

" I think 1dm ever ta gocd," Lady Betty declared, and she turned t| 
her husband a quiok look of beaming affection. She got up, too, ant 
■tood upon the hearth in front of the great bank of csolics that Gllei! 
lbs air with perfume. She unfurled her fan as if ehe were thinking, 
Mid she Icokul nut unlike some rich exotic Soicer herself in her tobet 
of Vvni-tian rod. 



"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 



t »hiM 



What wM iiasEing through MorBe** mind at that moment * . 

made him shrink from this tribute to his goodoesB? Did he not faidj 
deMcre it? Alas, the truer of heart, ihe more profoundly conscien- 
tious, tho more honourable of purpose riiid pure of bouI a man is, the 
more likely is he to feel every now and then «ome strange pang of 
■wakened conscience. In Morsa there was a spirit of self-andyus 
which is neTer ia itself altogether healthy. Not many of the outer 
puhlic, not many even amone his own associatee and acquaintimces, 
would have Buspected that uiei« was in tbe nature of tLat strung, 
commanding man, who seemed always to walk straightway hia own 
road, a sensitiveness too delicate, too easily touulied aiid hurt, to allow 
him ever to be entirely happy. 

Lenny wont home after a lew minutes more of talk. 

"Tbat child gets fonder of me everyday," said Lady Betty. "Some 
one suggested that I should decorate him with a badge. I don't see 
why the teetotallers Bhould have the monopoly of ribbons," she went 
on, in her pretty inconsequent manner. " Every one might announce 
their particular line in that way — white for the virtuous, pink for tha 
worldlings, red for the vicious, and so on." 

"TliB white ribtions would soon get soiled, Betty." 

"Except Lord Arden'sl I think, however, he mi 
of pink toa I'll institute an order for my friends, 'l^lking of oi 
Sandham, it's funny, isn't it, tbat the moet prudish cuuntry h , 
world should call her two principal ones the IJatk and the Qart^ 
she added, with a laugh. 

" What capital spirits you have, Betty. Ton don't seem a bit tiij| 

She made a little gesture. "1 can't return tho compUm 
good spirits are reaction after the strain of the evening, 1 1 
agony lest Masterson, your Socialist, should make his appearsDce^fl 
take the opportunity of hurling the gauntlet at Eoyaiiv" ■ 

"You needn't have been afraid. This is about 
gathering Mnsterson would attend." 

"I don't know. One expects something melodramatic fwH 
Socialist. He came once to my 'Thursday altcrnoon.' I must A 
though, that he didn't know 1 received on that day. Did I tell y 
Two Cabinet Ministers and Mr. Masterson were announced alt| 
together. I am not very nervous, you know, and I like a senai 
but, after Mnstcrson's 8[>eecb about revolution and hanf^ng a 

teme! My dear, the triorgular convera.ition wis too funny, 

tunately, Lenny came in, and threw himself into one of his pictur 
attitudes at my feet. 'I'liat turned off the explosion. We jumSI 
backwards into the Middle Ages. Isn't he a sweet boy, Sandbar 

" Who ? Lenny ? Yes. It seems almost a pity he should ei 
Morse stopped. 

"Ever what, dear?" 

"Ever grow up to he a maQ." 

" You gloomy creature ! I wisli that we were in the Middle Agt 
&e rcnl thing, not the aesthetic sbam. 1 bate triptj'chea, and 1 cbxM 



HUSBAND AND WIFE. 



adora BotticetlL I'd make Lenny My page, 1 thtuk be would be tba ' 
very ideal of a lady's page ; don't you, Sandham ? " 

" 1 tliick he would ; aud I Ihmk you would be the very ideal of * 
cbanniiig cAufc'aine, Betty." Morse looked at her with a sudden thrill 
of aSectioDate teadernem. Lady Betty's eyea sparkled wit ti even more 
than thdr usual brightneBs; and she aliuoat blosbed. Morse aeldonlj 
paid a cxmiptiment or said a pretty thing. '|^ 

"0)tne," she said, "it is nice to bear you say that. Toa don't ofteoj 
pay compliments to your wife, Sandhnm.'' 

" Still less often to aoybody eUn, Belty." 

"Icb; I know," she went on gravely. "Sometimes I dont think 
it would be any the worse if you were just a little more of a lady'f 
man, Sacdham; it looks nice, I tb.iuk, especially in a grave sort of 
statesmaa like you. I shouldn't be one bit jealous, you know. That 



1 

I tba ^"1 

if a 
iriU 



reminds me — 1 hope you will be ever so attentive to my sweet shy 
Australian beauty. Isn't sho a little beauty — with her sort of wild 
melancholy, a kind of shrinkiog look in her eyes — like a wild animal, I 
tlunk. She will beasuccoss; s lie will tako London society, you'll Gud.'* 

"I don't think Bo, Betty." 

"My dear, what do you know about it? Fsucy your findii^ 

to notice what goes oo in the kind of silly crowJ, the ship of fool) 
that we women call society. Ye/<; she will be greatly admired. ' ~ 
going to do all I can to make things nice for her." 

" I am glad of that," s^d Morse, with a faint hesitation, " t ihoi^ 
like you to be kind \a her, Betty; and yon will find her interesting." 

" I would be kind to any one you asked ms to notice," said Lad< 
Betty sweetly. " But she will be taken up. Uer very stran^enes 
and shyDeas will be an attraction. What society would despite in a 
vtex provincial, it admires in an American or colonial." 

"Quite true, Betty. You understand your public well. I only hope 
you and j'our society won't spoil ter among you." After a pause, 
Morse said, with something like on effort, " She and I are old 
acquaintances, Betty." 

"Yrs, BO I hear; some one told nje. Was it you, or she?" 

"We were together on board the same steamer for four and twenty, 
hours. TLat was the only time I ever saw her. Of course, she 
little more than a child then," Morso added hastily. 

"Yes; of course. Oh, Sandham, by the way— the Prince 
Princess were very nice to every one to-night, don't you think ? " 

"They always are, Betty. They were very gracious to me; Dul 
they don't much like me, all the same," be added, with a smile. 

" Well, dearest, Ibey don't much like your political goiup-on, 
I suppose. How could they? The Prince rather cbaifed me about 

yuu this evening. He wanted to know when you were going ' 

your red republican party, and try to set aside the succe.'iai 
course, he wasn't serious, Uut I think it is very nice of them to be 
very friendly under all the circumsi " 

" Friendly to yon and me, Betty 



ima^^l 
elk^H 

>ui^H 



inty^— 
waS^H 




36 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? ■ 

" YcB, dear." I 

"I fancy thay put up with me for the sake of you," Morse said. 
And ba took hor bond in bis. 

" I dare Bay there is Bomethinn; of that ; they have always hicn very 
kind to me. But, besides, 1 don't believe they tbinlc you mean ftny- 
thing very dreadful, you know." 'i.H 

•■ Dfendful ? How dreadful ? " ^H 

" Weil, anything very serioufl," ^| 

" I am very Berious, Betty," ^^ 

" Indeed, dearest, you are awfully iterlous ; I mean you appear bo to 
the outer world. I find it hard to make jiefiple believe that you are so 
pleasant and boyish with me — sometimes." 

" And what do you think — you yourself, Betty — of my political 
goings-on, as you call them?" 

"Ub, well, Sandbam, I don't mind them, of coarse. I should like 
anything you did, and think it all right, in a way. BeaideB, it is ever 
so much more picturesque, and ioteresting, and all that, to be a man 
with new and odd ideas — a distinct, peculiar figure, don't you know, 
than just to be the ordinary commonplace Libert or Tory. I shouldn't 
care one bit to be the wife of a commonplace Liberal or Tory. Oh no ; 
it is very charming and delightful lis it is. I told the Prince so to-night. 
I told him I would not allow you to be a commonplace EOii of polilician. 
And,of course, I told him you meant no liann to anybody or anything; 
but that & man of ideas must have bis ideas, don't you know ? I 
couldn't enditre a man who hadn't ideaa. One might as well be married 
to a woman." 

They were still standing on the hearthrug, about to leave the room. 
Morse took her hand again in bis, and Kud gravely — 

"Betty, sup]>08e my ideaa and my T*liticftl goinns-on were to end 
in making mo detested by society; and even making you not so mucli 
of a favourite as you are — how would that be?" 

"But, dear, how could that be? Of course it couldn't be. 
wouldn't have anything to du with any goinga-on that were noi 
right ; and fancy your doing any tiling that could make people not lilu 
me ! It's absurd I " 

"There are some terrible evils in society, all round us, Betty. 
tee them yourself." 

"Dolnot? Do I not always eayso?" Lady Betty's eyeabi 
earnest. " The dreadful 7»verCy, and sin, and crime ? Don't I alii 
Fay, Sandham, that we, the ricli, are not doing one huif, one quBr_ 
what we might do to mate the poor around ua more happy ? I trfS 

" Indeed, you do. No woman in London does more, and n 
fully and generously, Betty, in that kind of way. But you km 
dear, I don't believe much is to be done in that way. Even your M 
incessant benevolence and charity — well, I fancy it does more g' 
to your own sweet nature and your own bouI, my dear, thaa it e 
aiw»ya for those who feel its material benefit.'' 



HUSBAND AND WIFE. JJI 

Laily Betty, tnith to say, was EometimHa I'abia to gidnj her kinJ- 
ii«Bf«s awny to the wroDg p rsun, 

" Yes ; I know I malic iid^takcs now anil theo," eho stiiil, with • 
(vinBome smile an<l & Htilt more wtnsome blush, "One csn't help 
making a cmtnko sometimeB. But I mean to become ever to miicb 
more wi«e and circumBpect, 'And if I do encourage undeKerviog 
[overty BometimeB — well, anyhow, I don't Ihink I fulhl my Bteward- 
chip a« badly as those wise mi^istralefl who imprison with hard Idboiit 
the men who go bawling about the streets, 'Brink is the cur^ of man. 
the Lord deliver U3 froti] diintt,' and inflict a amoll fine on the landlura 
who grinds a living out of the disease and degradation of his fellQiM 
creatures. There 1 A crib out of one of yout own speeches, SacdhaiU 
Don't My I never read them," ^ 

A change, very alight, but slill to te notieed, came over Morse's faoe," 
The eyes seemed to deepen, and the fcaturcii to become more impossiro. 
There was a lone ia his voice oa h« anuwered like that in which he 
might address a child. 

"Nererniicd, Betty; don't try, thsn.tobB wise and circumspect. Qo 
on with your work in your own way; it can't fail to do some good to 
somebody. But I want to try to got bnd syEtems put to rights; I 
fancy that is my work in this world, if I have any work at all to do," 

" you think there ought to be a new org.iniKation of all our charilabU 
institutions?" Lady Betty asked, with eager eyes. "I do, too. 1 
qaite agree wilh I^yMcloraine on that. Then, you are with ub? 
That ia just what wu want. Uuw I wiEh I had known ; I could liavB 
told the Princess to-nighi." 

*' I want « new organization nf e^rer so many institutions, Betty, 
well M of your charities; and I don't think your explitnalion wou 
have quite saiisGed the Princess. iNever mind, dear; we must ontj 
do the best wo can, each of us," 

" But if you would only help us," Lady Betty sEud enmeBlly, hef 
mind still occupied only witb the idea of the reorganization of certain 
charitable institutions which Lady Meloraine and she were advoctling, 
"Lady Meloraine would he bo deUglited; end the Princess, of eourasi 
But we thought you never had time to give any thought to things of 
that kind." 

"' I shall always find or make time to give you the best advice I c»n 
on anything thxt interests you, Betty." 

He thought it of no use to nmko any further dcvo'opment of hi*. 
political ideas juat then, snd wa,i glad to put away the subject, '"'"' 
whiab he had gone somewhat impulravely. 

" How very sweet of you, dear. But you are always bo good to 
Sandbnm." 

" I shall be so good to you now, child, as to send yon off to your 
I hav-e H few things to lot.it up yet; and eonie memoranda to make." 

"I wish you would take more sleep; I with you would take ntum 
car* of yourself. Well, I confess, I am sUepy; uid I am to be up 
mlbct early 






S8 "77/£ RIGHT HONOURABLE? V 

81ia kissed him tiitd went upstnin. 

MorEs went inta his ttuJf, where a light was burning. The stiiilr 
wriB on UiB ground floor, and opening out of it was a bedroom ivhicli 
he nsiinllf occupied during tbo sitting oF Parlianfieot, aod at any other 
lime when he was likely to be lo-to and desired at ucce to be inde- 
pendent and not lo disturb anyborly. 

It was a comfortable room, though not Fepeciatly luxurious, anil 
Lady Betty liad b«gged in vain to be alluweii tu transport to it loma 
kX her rare china and art treaBunrs. Books lined three aides of it to 
within a ftn feet of the ceiling, and above the oak cases vrere Irotihiea 
— American and Australian — caluroeis, mocasflina, buffalo-horns, 
bnoiaerangB, nuUa-nullaB, and other nallve weapons. A solemn grey 
liirdj a fluffed native " companion," perched as uncannily aa Poe'a 
raven above its owner's particulnr chair. The low deep sofa was 
covered with an opossum rug. Above the mantel-piece hung an oil 

Sinting of a winter scene upon which (he sun had gone down — a long 
t stretch of lamlficapo, snow-covered, with a alraigbt rond reaching 
lo the horizon, and a clump of gnarled willows in the foreground. 
The sky was grey and cloudy, except for the gleam which the sun had 
left i it was cold, dreary, desolate, yet curiously weird and suggestive. 
The only other pictures in the room were some rough sketches of bold 
Australian coast scenery, and these hung over the writing-table, 

Morse tried to settle himself down to a little work in the way of 
reading letters and memoranda. Bis hatit was to read over a number 
of letters each night in tliis way, and make short notes on each of the 
sort of answer to be given to it. These he hit fur his secretary, who 
came early in the morning and disposed of them without further 
troubling Morse. Correspondence of a more important and momentous 
character Morse kept for fuller conaideration. There were many letters 
which he always replied to himself, and which did not come under the 
eyes of his secretary. There were letters, too, of a more purely soda* 
order, which he always handed over to Lady Betty, who disposed % 
them along with her own vast mass of miscellaneous correspundenfi' 
To-night Morse did not fee! much in the humour for reading lettei, 
His mind, somehow, would not Gz itself on their details. Many thiag 
had happened that night to set him thinking. Suppose hia projeQ' 
should fail, haw would the failure affect his wife, with her sweet hr^ 
nature, her teneficence, her delight in society, her unaffected deroUt, 
to the great personages whom she loved, htr desire for everythin^'l! 

r go so niceiy and every one to be happy ? Suppose even the projeo' 
to succeed, how, still, would it bo with her ? Would it have 1 ' 
better if he bad, after all, remained — in Australia? 

I When he got to this thought, he jumped up and would have &. 

I more of that. " I have done right; I am doing right," he said to hinlF 

\ self. "I have a duty to do to this country wbiuh I love; 1 can d 

I something for her people ; I am not wrong," 

V Then he went resolutely at his letters ^;ain. Two espedall^ 

I interested him, nnw that he had pat away all thoughts of ijlher thingaj 






WIFE AND HUSBAND. 



1 

liils - 
He 



The seal of one bora the coronet of nn e>H; tbe other bod & resolutely* 
democratic brotberhood uf man and Boci&l equality about ii, wiili ita 
thick aggressive blue paper and the clear hand he veil knew. He 
Dpeoed this one fiisL 

"Dear Morse," it ssid, "you told mo I might soe you soon ' 
.. oe. I will take laj chance, and come at eloveD to-moirow. 
spoak to you. The lime ia bat coming, and I claim you as thi 
,-au must be with us." The letter waa eigoed, " Stephen Ma^tcrtoo,'^ 
" Puor fellow ! " Morae aaid, i_ 

Tbe other letter was: "Lord Forrest presenta hia compliments to 
Mr, Morae, and will be happy lo accord to Mr. Monw at noon to- 
morrow the interview which Mr, Marge has honoured him by reque&t 
ing." 

"Come, that is something at least," Morse said. "Not much will 
come of it, but he will see me, and we shall have lelt no alone unturned,'' 
The two letters lay side ly side, and tbe fact struck Morse as curious 
He had much humour in him, and could stop now and then to be 
.omuiied by tbe mere oddities of life. "Side by aids," he tfaongbt, 
"these two Itticra on the same subject — from the esliemest decing"guo 
And the last Jacobite peer; the two irrecoucllableB ; tbe cue just As 
hopeleaa, as unmaiu^eable,as single-minded, as pure of jiurpose, as th« 
oiher." 



FroB^H 



C&IOBTon Keswat and bis wifi drove home almost ia sileaca ft 
lAdy Betty Morse's party. They had not very far to go. Snndhi 
Horse lived at tbe lower end of Park Litiie, and the house which 
Kenway had taken and furnished was in one of the small streets that 
lie upon the outskirts of the BelgnLvian region. It was too much on 
tbe outskirts to please Cricblon Kenway, who was a jierson with a 
cleiu'ly-deGned social ambition, but it had the advant^e of being 
vi^in easy reach of Victoria street nnd the row of buildings devot' d 
principally to the offices of tigeiita-geneml for the colonies, and the 
perha])s greater advantage of being not too outrageously beyond his 

Criuhton Kenway found great difficulty in living within hia means, 
not so much because he was given to thuughtlesa and lavish outlay, 
86 because he had an exaggerated idea of the importance of money 
and tbe site of one's house aa a means of social distinclion. He was 
in some ways almost pareimonious, and waa annoyed if he did not got 
U> the full his money'a worth. He would grumble at the needless 
Bxpenditure of a shilling, though to serve an object be woidd laiincli 
ialA a style of living utterly disproportionate to his income. If, hoW" 
Bver, he did not gain his object he felt himadf detiMidiiA, and. w~ ''— 



40 "r//£ RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

from taking the loss ptiloaophlcally. He dlBlikcd to be thought poor, 
add to out a leas imposing figure than hia neighbours. lie was food 
of his personttt comfort, and could never prnctise small eoonoraii'S when 
that was in questioo. Thus it bappt^ned that his impulEes were often 
at war. He auSered from the horror and inconveniencB of debt aa 
keenly us the most prudent of cconomista, while at the Knme time he 
was forced to live face to face with it, and hod none of the capacity 
for reckless enjoyment of ihe day ■without regard to the morrow which 
characterizes the born Bohemian or the well-trained Kawdon Crawley. 
He was not in an amiable mood this evening. He had been very 
proud of having compassed an inTitation to Lady Betty Morse's recep- 
tion, for he understood that fhe was a lender of society, and thnt she 
was married to a prominent member of the lato Qovorninenli ; but, 
after all, lie had not found himself far advanced up the social laddeitH 
for ho knew hardly any of the smart people who were there. Nohoi*-* 
paid any attentioti to him, and though there was a satis faatioB-£ 
being within a few yards of Royalty, he did not ece that praoticaffl 
the fact could be of much seiTice to iiim. There was a feint ""' 
tion io the reflection that Moree hnd talked for some time K 
but it was evidoDt that neither Morse nor Lady Betty Lid tl 
her worth making a fuss about. They hod not introduced to I 
of the bo-ribboned men, or brought her to Iho notice of the b 
ladies ; and Eoorkli hud not sltown to advantage in the brilliant 
aseemblage. She had luokeil pale, odd, a Uttle scared, he tboughL 
Her droiis was not tight. She had. not that indescriboihle air of fashion 
which belongs to the typical London woman. Even her jewels — 
which had lately come to her by the will of a maiden aunt of Ken- 
way's, from whom be bad bad but jjoorly realized eipeclationB, and 
which bad afforded to the husban-d and wife some innocent gratiSoa- 
tion — looked poor beside the magniScent necklaces and tiaras that 
abounded in tlie room. She had shown no animation, no ease, i 
power of self-assertion, Sha would certainly not take the world I 
Htorm. He had believed iu her repulntion f<ir beauty and origiaalltj! 
There was no doubt itiat in the colonira she had been thought a gr ' 
deal of, and every one had Tirophesied her success in England. 
hod expected that »he would make a sensation when she nfpeared 
among the right people. Kenway know that to achieve social suootbb 
it is absolutely necessary to have the tmtr&e to a particular set, and 
Laily Belty Morse had opened iho sncrcd door. Ho hiid dreamed 
of Eooritli elevated to Ihe first tank of professional beauties. He 
hud dreamed of the approving glances of great personngca. And lol 
Koorfdi had made her appearance, and no great persomiire had re- 
marked her; no one, indeed, except Morse, who associated bar with 
Australlit, had taken any special notice of her. Orlchton was disap- 
puinled and vexed. Ho felt as a n:ierchant might feci who has bought 
a diamond supposing it to be unii[ue in aize and brilliance, ftnd who 
finds upon ccmparing it with other stones that it is only a very 
c{immoop\nM specimen. Ho looked at her furtively as she Kaued m 



»td y^M 

d. HtfTH 



'9 



111* J 

WIFE AND HUSBAND. 41 

bOck in the brougham. Th«re wm that lircaroy exprpssion which 
always irritated hirii, fin' it made him feel thxt tier thi'tighls weni far 
beyond the circlu in which his own rerolved, nn>t that he could not 
follow them. It gave him a vague at.'nse of iufciiiitity, and thii lie 
ftlwaja resei'ted. A nght-minded wife would Ke hor buBlond'' 
lapericirity nnd bow to it. ' 

Hs B«id nothinp;, however, but pulled out Lis ciKiiroll 
t)egHn to smoke. Presently the carriage drew up nt ihi-ir own di 
The night had come on wet, and K«cway aa he got out observed 1 
the coachmnu had forgotl«D hla wateqiroof covorincs an<l tbnt 
livery waa Itkeiy to suffer in consequence. Kc>oi9Lli was awakened 
from a dream of her girlhood — a dream in which Sandhsm Horae, 
Jtiilp: O'Beirne, and the Little Queen going (i>rtL to aoe the world 
a(«o<l out with EtArtliug vividneEs — by her busband'a angry tones aa 
he ecolded the servant for bis negligcQce. Eenwaj usually spoke 
Imperiously to those in hia employmenl, though be bad always the 
conventional EDglish aquire'i "Thankye," Bnd pleasant tmile ready on 
demand for the servanta of his coTintry hosts, or even for the inde- 
pendent bumpkin on the rdsdcide or at the gate. 

Kootali got down alone, and stood under the portico white Kenway 
finished his scolding and gave some directions about ihfl horse, befom 
the brougham drove off, 

•'Why didn't you wait till I had got the door open?" he said, 
fumbling for his latch-key. "Thai's how you get your dross spoiled, 
and your shoes — a night like this. You are as bad as Drake. These 
bmtci never core how much / have to spend on kerpins them decent," 

Kenway went in Grst, and inspected the letters lying on tlio hall 
table before he lighted the bedroom candles. He looked aver his 
wife's shoulder while she opened her letters. One contained a card 
cif invitation to a reception at one of the embaaaiesi, and it restored 
KeDway's good humour, 

Kuorali took up her candle, and was moving towards the staircpap, 

"Aren't you coming into the siii'>king'room V " said Kenway, " I 
have got a lot to talk to you about. 1 want to hear wirnt you thought 
of theevcniDg." 

Kooritii hesitated s moment, then followed him to his own den nt 
the back of the house. U was a cum'ortable den, and had a pood 
tnsny thinga in it that bespoke Iueutiouh tastes on the part of Its 
occupant. In fact, it was ia a way aymjitomatic of its owner. The 
writidg-table looked business-like, the papers were arranged and 
docketed with great neatness. Some pumphieta and reports lay about, 

d several publications relating to Australia and to current politics; 
Jong them the number of a review to which Crichton had contri- 
bDt«d an article upon the annesation of New Guinea. Be had not 
mitten it hiuiself, but he had supplied the facts and got the credit 
lor it. Ccii^htou made a great point of the big Australian-lmneHal 
" estioiL Ho coltivateil views upon it, and hoped they might Wing 
"fl notice. Thero were sot many other books or indianliooi of 




43 ''THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

study. Crichkin only read what he thought might be of aervice to 
him in bia cnreer. Uia career was a very importnnt object to him, 
though HB yet it was not very clearly laid out He ]io|it hia eyo o\\ 
the future, and nt present the Bummit of hi^ ambit[on waa a coIodmI 
gOTemorahip. He wanted to be a great man Bomevrbere, and bnil 
sense enougu to know that ho could not, without esceptional advan- 
tages, bo a great man in England. He wanted to make England n 
stopping-atone, and to utilise his opportunities while he was Ageni- 
General in Older to ingrstjate himsolfwith the powers at home; fiir 
he knew that bis appointraent was precarious, and that Culoniul 
Cahineta aucceed each other rery rapidly. At any time ho might Iuga 
his post and the income it bruiiglit him. 

There ware some guns in a rack over the mantol-pieca, a sat ol 
sporting prints, and a hunting crop or two. Crichton quite realized 
the espcdiency of being — while in the country — imbued with a manlj 
and British love of sport, and of gaining what interest he could in 
that direction. He had already laid his plan!! for getting a footing 
in the particular county to which his ancestors had belonged, and in 
which waa the ancestral dwelling tliat before his tune passed into 
other hands, as he phrased it. He could not aSbrd to rent a country 
place, but he hod taken an old-fashioned farmhouse, which had in 
bygone time been a manor house, and had now a certain quaintneis 
and picturesquenesa quite in keeping with a modest establishment 
and affectation of rusticity. Eenway could in imagination hear himself 
talking of " my little hunting-box which la nothing to keep up ; but 
in my old county, don't you kno=w." K'wrlli had got to learn that 
Kenway did not know the county nt all, fur hia people had left it 
before hia generation, and he had been brought up after a rather 
humble fashion in quite another part of England. But that was a 
mere nutter of detail. 

The room, ligbteil only by a feeble gas-jet and the two little bed- 
room candies which Crichton and his wife held, had a lunuly, dreary 
appearance, and that peculiar oppreasive atmosphere which belongs tn 
some rooms that have been closed for several hours, and are entered 
lato at night. It is as though all the influencea at work during tho 
day had been pent up, and, as if unsympathetic to the incomer, were 
making themaelvea aggressively felt. On the other hand, who dues 
Dot know the indescribable, half-aoothing, half-stimulating effect an 
the iiervea produced Viy the air of a room closed and darkt-ned and 
lately occujaed by some one loved? After tho big drawing-roomt 
in Park Lane, Keuway's study seemal moan and small, and there was 
something about it which gave Koor^li the fauoy that ahe waa enter- 
ing a prison. She uuoonsuioualy drew a deep brcalh, and loosened he( 
feather-trimmed wrap, which fell a'way from her bare neck and slim fbno, 

Crichton turned up the gaa, drew forward the smallest of two leather 
chairs which flunked the firejilaco, and placed himself in the other. 

"Sit down," he said. "What ivas Morse talking to you abouti 
Jou seemed to be having a long oouTeisation tojetUer." 4^ 



H^IFE AND HUSBAND. 

Koor&li put down her candle and baI donn u ho bade ber, 

* We were talking of old times," sbo answereiL 

*■ Old times!" le pea ted Sen way. His tone was not meant to clilll. ] 
It WHS often meant to be genial, yet to Kooriili's Bensitive ear it almoat^ 
ftlwaja had an inBsiion of Barcasm. Ho pulled to him b tray oft 
which stood glasses and Epiiit decanters, and poured some brandy Inbtf 
a tnmblar which he filled from a syphon. " There couldn't havebt ""' 
«• m»ny of theoi to talk OYer," he said. "I thoTight you only p 
Morse once, when he was on his way home from Aiistrnlia. 1 8houIilu*t3 
have thought that you remembered much about him." 

"I waswilh Mr. Morse for twenty -four hours on board the steamer," 
replied KoorJtli. "I remember it very well. 1 have never forgotten 
' oa. Be interested me. I thought lum like Napoleon." 

"He Aa> a look of Plon-Plon, especially now that he has got 
stAuter," remarked Kenway, in that tone of vague depreciiitinn which 
always irritated Koori^li, though now she was iostaritly vexed with 
herself for feeling irritatai. 

" The lOeetiDg there — our tallc^I don't know what — iropresscd me," 
cotitinued Ki orili. " It all came back very vividly this evening. I 
think it made me a little bit melsncholy." . ' 

81m spoke rather sadly; and she looked at her husband with soft ^ 
pyos, that seemed to ask hia sympnthy. 

"ijow I should like to know exactly why," asfced Kenway. 
ara so often melancholy, that it would be a satiKfaclion for onco 
at the TeOBon." He lit another cigarette, and then removed it froB 
his lips to drink a little of bis brandy and soda-water. 

"I WAS such a child. I felt so e^ger to see life, and I faocied i. 
ev«rything good was going to happen to me." 

"And haven't lots of good thioga happened to you?" esdairaej 
Kenway, with energy. " Uere you are in England, doiog your seasMi 
in I<iradon, and going to all the bast houses. It's more Chan oldS 
Uiddleroist's daughtpr had any risht to expect." Uu laughed to ' ' " 
adf, aa if amused at ihe incongruity. 

KoorMi sat quite still, but lier eyes grew brighter and harder. 

"Yes, I know. You fancied yourself a sort of princess," continued ' 
Kenway. "Oh, I remember very well, and that first year of the 
UiddlimuBt Ministry. Girls in Austraiia, if ihey are pretty, get 
ntterly exaggerated notions of their own importance. It's all a flash- 
in-tho-ran out there — power, pood looks, and the rest of it, There's 
nothitu m'id like money or rank. Sandham Morse did wpII to come 
to England and try for the real tiling; and, by Jove, ho has got it." 
Kenway loaned back in bis rhair, and with an expressive gesturs 
Bbook otf the burnt-out end of bis cigarette. KooiMi remained silent 
" You have no icaaon to he dissatisfied," said Kenway, his thoughta 
ffoin; hack upon themselves. " It ian't as though you had had mnnay, 
a\ hadn't fallen in love with you, you'd have played second fiddle to 
your stepmother, nod you'd have ended by msrrying some bep;arly 
wfficial or rougli squatter. This is a good deal better than Togetatinj 



44 ^'THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

on A cnttie station. No, no, my itow, you liavo dona very wall fbt 
yourself." Kenway laughed again. 

KoorUi's face hail changed. It did not look so childlike. She 
Bpoke now with an cTldenl effort (it hrighlnesB. 

"Admitted — in a grateful spirit. But, however hrilliant one's lot, 
CrichtOD, I suppose one may feel a little regret over youth that i» 

" Nonsense ! " exclaimed Keowny. " I'd lay long odds that you ate 
Tiot as old as l^y Betty Morse." He looked at tiis wife critically, 
«nd foamed to he drawiiig a mental comparison. "It's curious what 
a diScrsDce style and tnonner make in a woman I" ha added reflectively. 
" You. and Lady Betty nra not urlike. I wonder I didn't nolioe it 
before. You have the same-shaped head and face, and the same sort 

of oomplesionand figure " He jauaed abruptly, then said, "Why 

don't you go to one of tha dressmakers or man-milliners who turn out 
fashionable London women, and get decently set up 'i You look pro- 
yincial — or colonial, which is worse." 

"Do you want me to be a faskionable London woman, Crichton?" 
asked KoorMi slowly, " 1 tliink it might be a little difficult to get 
some one to teach me ; but I can try." 

" I want you to make the best of yourself, to hold your own, to say 
the agreeable thing. I am afraid there ij not much use ia wanting 
you lo be admired and sought after — like Lady Belty," replied Eenway. 
"That would be a little unreasooable, perhaps," said Koorilli, her 
ayes, with their slraipht clear look, meetini! thoHM of her husband, " I 
have not had the ailvantages of Lady Betty Morse. I have ndlher 
money nor rank. 1 have not been trained to the ftrrat world. Idun't 
understand its ways. And " aha paused a second — "I don't suit- 
pose that Lady Betty could be persuaded to take me as a pupil. Tou 
might ask her, Crichton, if you think that you can prevail upon her, 
and if you are very much afraid that I shall bring discredit upon you. 
YoLi ahould have weighed all this, dear, before you aakad a South 
Britain girl to marry you." 

KooraU spoke with a supprosBod i>ittemoBB, though her voice quavered 
a little. Crichton tunied slmrply upon her. 

" You needn't be so infernally nasty over whit I say to you for your 
[rood. I suppose you've seen enough of the world to know that South 
Britain isn't exactly a school for deportment." 

" Ob yes, Crichton ; or, at all events, I ought to have loomed it from 
you. But I am a iitlle bewildered, you know ; and I don't think you 
quite give me credit for trying to conq^uor my sav^e instincts. On 
the whole I think I deserve some praisa for not bavini^ danced a cot'- 
roboree before the Prinoe this evening. Perhaps it ndght have amused 
him if I had. Anyhow, it would luve made him notice me, and you 
would have liked that." 

Kenway did not understand his wife in Ibis mood. He did not quita 
know how to take her. He got up on tha pretext that the paa wH 
flaring, turned it down, and then spoke to her in a different tone. 



I 



iVJF£ AND HUSBAND. ^j^ 

" t dare say that you'd pick up tliinga quickly enougti, if yaii took ■ 
litik trouble," be eaid, seating himself asnia. 

" It is not BO much a question of trouble, do you thiiit, Crichtoo, u 
of tirae," said EoorMi in the sajn« quiet manoe'-, wi(h its touEh of 
sarcasm. "I !uo aPtaitl I am too old to go to a school of deportment 
)D Ijondon, though I can get taught to miike my curlny to the Queen; 
hut I will do my beat to take ndTootage of such opporluoitiea bb 
tfr-nisht, foe inatance." 

Crichton eyed her from bcnealli lowered la*lieB fur a few moments ; 
bnt she Eat looking straight before lier into the empty lirej)U<.-e. 

"The ffiuit I have to find with you," he said prtBccily, with hk air 
of mao-of-the-world philosophy and lus look carelessly beiit in another 
direction, " Is that you don't bold your own, especially sinong the 
family. Every one ia liahle to slipa, but one needn't hare them 
cbronicled. It^s a mistake to play into ]H»iple'B handg, and my rela- 
tloDB are too ready to patronize you and make you seem cheap, J 
don't cibjcct to patronage, when it's from my HUperiors, hut I can't 
■ttind it from cousins by marriage." 

Crichton pnused, glancing again at his wife. The disiliiinful droop 
cif Koot&U'b lipe seemed to contradict a pathetic, Bliglilly-puxzleii Iwk 
in her eyes. 

"You mean your cousin, Mra. Ntvile-Beauchamp. 1 do not think 
it matters much whvtlicr she patronir.ea mo ur nut." 

The dock on Ibe manlel-piece struck two. She half rose with 
gesture of wenrinesB. ^ 

"Don't go yet. It dues matter; it affect* your position in tk* 
famUy. There's always a lot of jealousy among relations. That's tbs 
wotIX They'd sneer away everything that they haven't got them- 
Helves. The only things that can't be sneereil away are money and 
social poritioo. Eustace baa been clever enough to pick up a Sheffield 
heiress, and so bas gut the one. Twenty thousand a year is solid. A 
man can feci his feet on it. You and 1 have got to take our stand on 
different ground, sioco we have been sold ever the old aunt's legacy. 
But it is not netcsaary lo proclaim the fact that our inheritance con- 
8ist« of some bits of china and a few diamonds. Do you understand, 
KowWi?" 

"I tldnk I do, 1 am sorry to have been indiscreet, and to have 
enlightened your cousin." 

"Oh!" Kenway lifted his chin and drooped hia eyelids in a manner 
BJuiTftlent to a shrug of the shoulders. " The tyunily would have 
found that out anyhow; but the fandly isn't Society, though it would 
liltOone to think so. You are not Ibe sort of person a statesman would 
coma to for advice, my dear, or a general either. You don't know how 
U* keep a position when I have gaim'd it fur you by a little atratrgy or 
nimgger. Don't look so scomtul. A wise man knows how to use his 
tucla. ewaggerasaloolisnotto be underrated. It suits some people. 
It suiti Kitty Kevile-Beaucliamp. But I ^aw at dinner this evening that 
you ]iail not tni:eii her measure. You were stui^id. You. anuoved mo," 



A 



46 



"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 



3 sUght a 



"la that [icEsiUo?" flaked Eooilli, wilh e 
conterapt in her voice. " In what way?" 

"You made ine appear ridiculous. When 1 spoke of the Kn 
and aaiil that we were going on tliere, you did not oliserve tte cln 
in Kitty's fnce and take your cue. Kitty Nevilc-Beiachamp k 
to her cost that to get into tl^at set ix an achievement. You rese 
degrees in her estimation. Why did you not Itt well alone? 
you obliged to explain that we did not know Lady Betty, and thai 
had been asked through the PlymptODS? A fmjl telJs the u 
truth of to-day, which may be the lie of to-morrow. A wor 
world holds her tongue. That's part of the lesson of London life n 
you hftva to leam." ( 

Koorili smiled a peculiar sort of smile, and slightly lifted her eyaliJ 

" The unnecesfary truth of to-day may be the lie of to-mnri 
Tea; 1 aee. I wonder whether the unnewsaary lie of to-day a 
tiun out to he the truth of to-morrow? If that were bo, don'tj 
think some men would find themaelvea hecoming unexpectedly li 
of the truth 1 " 

Kenway looked curiously at bar ; a sort of dnister look it v 
Kooi^'b dreamy ejei hadn disconcerting way of seeming to see to 
the very heart of thinga sometimeB, He kept his composure, however. 

"Well, KoorMi," he said, "a fellow who tells unnecessary list 
daservea anything, I think." 

"Dewtrea even to have his lies of to-day come true to-morrow? 
Tes; hut in acme caaca that wouldn't ho a puniahment exactly. And 
that aeems a little unjust." 

Kenway did not like this sort of thing. 

" Anyhow, KoorMi, the point is this. Tou ought to leam the lesson 
I have been trying to teach you, aad not blurt out before people things 
which it is neitlier ncccBsary nor desirable they should know. Do you 
uadsratund? You are quick enough to understand things when you 
like." 

" Yes," she said slowly ; " I think I understand— I think I quite 
-inderstsnd. I am sorry for my raistake <if to-night. I ought 
learned my lesson bvtter by this time." She roae and took her ciuidj 
nnd prepared to go upstaira. She stood for n moment, holdi 
light with one hand and keeping liack her draperies with the othu;: 
:'he looked at her husband, awaiting his formal carets. 

The tone of lier voice had struck uncomfortably on Kenway. .„ 

was, he thought, something unconifortable in hi-r cspreasion also. It 
was at variance somehow with tbo girlish softness of bar face, with the 
small, slender form in its lace robe that would not puff out here and 
cling in to her ebnpe there, or assume tlie folds that fashion ordoinedr 
He looked at her, studied her, her figure, her dreaa. He wss coi 
ing how far she was quuliEed to play a decent part in the game w 
lie hoped Uf win. She knew well what he was thinking of, and 
of sadness, almost of pity, came into her eipreasive eyes. 

••} am going upstairs now, I am verv tired," she said and 



>. It 

tt the 

I 



WIFE AND HUSBAND. 



t her H 
e tha ■ 
Sho 

r,biit 



>he neot to her hasband of her -own accord, touched bU furcliea 
with her lips, and left him. m if sh-e wuuld rather nut give him t 
portuDitf for another word. ■ 

KooriLli went elowly upstairs and into her own room. 8he put h 
candle down on the djesaing-tahle and turnid u]) the gas-jet above tha 
tiulet mirror, which was long and gave back her whole fumi. She 
.gased at the reOection in a dr«amy pitying way. Tha small pale fsoc 
■moAtimiatpSaik eycB didaot accm aoni^Hnr to bdong toWaclf,biit 
irere a part of Uie iniiliant scene she bid left a little while ago — m 
inharmoiiiouB part, an incongruity among the gay crowd, tha convsa'^ 
tional smiles, the jewels, the talk, the lights, the distinguished mer 
and the glittering women. That little tlgure had been out of plao 
there. The soul in those eyes was a lonely sou], and tha real Euot^' 
hod been outside it all-^a eold, Btarrcd little creature, who didn't 
into the life which would have BaLislied so many women, and who 
would never meet the ret^ulrements of those whom it should be her 
duty and her joy to please. It was as though sho had just missed the 
point of coDiact,yether sympathies vrere quivering and bleeding. She 
as not dull, or blunt, or blind. Shs had a vague sense of capacity, 
_fl almost painful intuition as to the rights of Ihiiigfl— an intuition 
that frightened her. She wanted to see what was good and great, and 
only the meannese and the aeif-intereated motives put themaelves for- 
waM i and this bewildered her, and she bejian to wonder in dreary 
denessed fashion iftbere were anything good or great in the world at all. 
She lifted her arms suddenly and let her bosom heave as though she 
were straining for ait and liberty. With the sense of oppression, there 
WW, too, one of vague, wild rebellion — not anger, not resenlmint. No 
Cine was wrong, ^he had no right to complain of her lot. She had 
Hown of her own accord into the gilded cage. She was well tiwled. 
Her master only required her to sing; and she could not sinz to his 
liking. Her nulea wore false when ahe piped in tho great world. 

B.CT imagination went drifting ; the lights in the mirror mul tiplieil 
themselves, and the background sh« had left formed behind her own 
white figure in the glass, while other figures blended with it. What a 
vast, confusing, n'onderful world it was — this living London 1 It was 
like a theatre in which every one had a part to play, with appropriate 
dresses, anil speeches, and gestures. She thought of the show that 
evening, ai the people she had seen, as a ciiild might to whom the 
heroen and heroines of her story-book have appeared as flesh and blood 
— the Frince and Frincees, the statesmen. Lady lietty, nho sang ber 
toac BO well, who sscmed so entirely at her ense, who knew her part so 
petwctly. She thought of Morse, playing his port too. No wander 

the Australian stage hail seemed to him petty. And yet She 

bad H fancy that it was not always reality to bim, and that there were 
moments when he felt himself out of place ; as if an experiment had 
not quite succeeded. Once, when by chance she looked into bia eyes 
■tiaight, she seemed to see Australia gleaming thtre. Just one of her 
odd badee. 



48 "7W£ RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

Eeown; e step aoiinded in the hall below, ttud tlie IraltG gintcd as he 
nhot them for tlie night. KoorAli iilarted from her drenin. She un- 
clnspcd her necklace, and Emitcd a little as tilie lud it domi. Slio woi 
Horry for Crichtou that even hia suut'ii disinonda had tumol out Icsi 
well than be expected. She took up her candlo ngiun, ouil, without 
waiting to unfoiiten her drsBS, mounted the other fii^t cj* Btairs to tbo 
i-bildroo's nuraoiy. 

Her two boye, Lunee and Miles, lay in their ciibs. T.niicc, the 
eldest, sturdy and unimaginative, with freckled face and his Tnthcr'a 
features, was fast asleep, the bcdclotheH tciEscd iilf hia robust liirlc 
r^irm. Koor^li only paused to cover him sgnin, and then, ahndhig ihe 
candle, kni'lt by the bedaido of tlie youngest, MiluK, who was rmgilu 
and precocious, and like a girl with hia sitky ciu'ls and dclicnto rcnlurc& 
He wBB a strange, thoughtful child, and wns oCIl-ii ailing. 

He slined as his mother watched him, nnil' ihu iiglic rntiie on his 
face. He openedapair of dreamyeye-^like hcPB; and put up his little 
liand to her neck, looking at her in a half-avvakcned way. 

" Mother, you're like an angel — I thought it was." 

" I've been to a party, darling. Now go to sleep again." 

But Miles raised himself, and gazed at her with troubled chilil-crn, 
under vhich there wore traces of a child's stormy wcuptn'i. He Iiai] 
Rone to bed in disgrace. The brothers had quarrelled. Jlilun'ti lemjicr 
was &etful and uncertMn. He was a little jealous of I.aiicc, who wa* 
liis father's favonrite, and whose rough aiidrcndypatron^igc ho rcscutol. 
This evening C'richton had been angry with him, and iho \xsy was 
sensitive. A sob shook him now. 

"Mother, do you forgive me? I want you to forgive me. I can't 
bear you not to love ma." 

Koorili gathered him to her. "I love jou always, my little one." 
Sho kissed and soothed him. 

" Lance hasn't forgiven me," M ilea went wbis;rei'ing on. " I wanted 
to wake him. I wanted to give him mynine-]jiuE- — to make it up; but 
he wouldn't wake." 

" You shall ask him to forgive you to-morrow," said EoorSJi, And 
she lay down heaido the boy. 

In a minute or two the tiny voice whispered again, " Mother, I wiah 
Adam hadn't been naughty." 

" What put that into your head, dear ? " 

"I don't know. It's all becauae of him. Fm so sad when I've been 
naughty. I don't like it" 

" Tlwt's just the good," said Eooi Mi ; " for if we weren't sad wb 
should lose being able to care ; and there's nothing — nothing bo 
dreadful as not to care when we are naaghty." 

" Do you care very much, mother, when you are naughty and father 
scolds you?" aaked the boy. 

" I try to ; yea, I try to," siud Koorili, with a throb in her voice, 

" I dreamed about the Resurrection," Miles went on. " Don't you. 
wish it was coming? I wish I was in heaven. I can't go to sleep " 



p'jjjj 



r 



w* ■ . 

RED CAP AMD IVHITE COCKADE. 

hinking of heaven. Mother, dun't futt wish wo cotilil ( 
ii^ether now — you and me?" 

Koor^li kisaed the U17 very gently. She reHtrdnsd the impulse to 
ireae him pasaiunatBly ti) her. There was an ache at her heart. This 
FAS all it came tol To the tired child, Bad to the tiral yojn^ mother, 
ife seemed nothiag better thau a pngcant, and tu tiiro frucn it a reliet 

CHAPTER VIL 



bare ■ 
to 



Khqi^sd had falloa upon gluomj days just now, most people mill 
Inilecd, it looked like that. Trade was dopre^acd ia an omlnoiu yny; 
agriculture was in what seemed utt«nnoat distress; farms were lying 
unoccupied and idle all over the country; there was sullen discontnnt 
among the rural labourers ; there was bitter, nngry, load-Toiced discon- 
tent among Iho artisans in the towns. Now, to make matters worse, 
the shadow of a great war appeared to be forccust over the land, Tbsra, 
had been a series of irritntiag, wasting, little wars with seml-si 
desert races here and there ; now ev ery body said a great war was ea 
with one of the most powerful of oontineatil stntei. 

The fcct was, that for some time many Englishmen had been 
longing for a big war with somebody — tinybody. They were sick of 
hewing on all sides that England's fighting days were over; that she 
could Dcver again stand up to any enemy mom formidable than an 
Egyptian Arab or a South African CafTre ; and they were filled with % , 
wild desire to show that their country hnd fight enongh in her yet ■ 
No mood could be more dangerous or lesa roa.'onnble. One reraon wh^w 
Horse was glad (hat the Admin istmtion he bclongud to was broken up4 
was becanae he saw that if things- went on Innger in the same way 
most of his colleagues would go in for popularity and a war. Morse 
detested the policy which would provoke a war with such a motivj. 
He did not believe that in this particular case there was any jiist 
Knnind of war; he did not believe the State was prepared fat war. 
Finally, if war had to come, he did not believe his party could manage 
it aa well as the other ; and he did not wish them to have lis foartul 
TeapoTudhility, suspecting that they were not sincerely convinecil of the 



■ of 
she 

h« ^ 

■^ 

vay ■ 



muse a strong agitation among the working classes all over the counbi 
■gainst war. In the meantime, however, he had goo 
believe that the new Ministers wore determined to go i 
once, and let the elections be taken after the firet cannon hai} 
thundered. Evidently, the hope of the men now in office was thiit 
the constituencies would never change a Ministry while England was 
in a death-^mpplc with a Etroog enemy. Therefore he determined to 
act at once, llo oonrorrud with some inHuentlal Kadicals, and gut 






a rarresE 

lasteraaij^H 
n to c^^H 

nd at &£ ■ 



SO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 

(heir nulharity to strike a stroke for them. The Court circle wm 
believed to be all in favour of war, but the more reasonable among the 
nristocracy were understood to liave little sympathy with such a 
policy; aiid Morse was sure the worlting classes could be brought 
crery.whero into a determintd opposition to it. If he were to make 
the first move, relying on the working classes, the chances were tliat 
oil the aristocralic sections and their dependents would hold back fram 
a moTement led by a Itadical, a Bupposed republican. But if samfl 
sreat peer could be got to s^ak out ag^nst the war policy, then 
Morse could lend some elTective help from the other quarter. His 
belief was that the aristocracy and the working cksses combined could 
save the country yet, if only they could bo brought to corahlne. It 
was with that feeling strong withio him that ha wrote to Lord Forrest 
asking for an interview. 

The day after Lsdy Betty's party JTorae was to 
then, to visit Lord Foriest, and after that it was his intention 
fur the first time, on Koorilli. 

MoTjfi and Stephen Masterson liad been fiiends at school and at _ . 
university. Masteison had stiirted with greater advantages and ihr 
greater promise. He had succeeded young to a contiiderable fortune, 
and ho showed great abilities. At the debiting society he was one of 
the foremost speakers. Uorse and he were friendly livaJs. Young 
members generally preferred Masterson; ba had loore imagination, 
they thought. Morse was very clever in cnustic analysis and sarc&atic 
leplyj but Masterson had ideas, Masterson had a future bcfun; him, 
Masterson would be a leader of men. 

Time had gone by, and Masterson now believed himself a le.ider of 
men. He consider^ himself to be at ihe head of the b^nglish social 
revolution. He stood as a candidate for various constitueacies and 
failed. It might have been better for him if he could have got intu 
the bonds of a pari i amen tury liTe. lie had married a young woman of 
humble birth, whom he dearly and paasionately loveil, and she died 
before they had many years of happiness; then their only child died, 
and Masterson was left alone. Fcrhsps it was the lack of her sweet 
controlling iuHuence which allowed him (o get all astray; for he hail 
got all astray, society said. He had gone in for alt manner of wild 
continental schemes of democracy,, and had tried with all the fervour 
and passion of fanalicism to make exotic political passion-flowers 
flourish on English soil. It was he who had the happy thought of 
eSectiug B combination between Irish Nationalists and cosmopolibl''' 
Red Bepublicans. The combination did not hold. That, indeed,, 
putting the failure rather mildly. The attenipt at combination led 
a hopeless quarrel, and Masterson left the Irish Nationalists to i^ 
their darkling way. After this ho confined bis eflbrts chiefly to Eng- 
land and Englishnien, and he endeavoured to form a revolutionary 
party among linglish working men. He spent bis money freely In hw 
propaganda; but he was not able to make it quite clear to English 
irorkin^ men in general what his revolution was to be. It was to pull 



1 



RED CAP AND WHITE COCKADE. 

down the dynasty, the aristocrftcy, and all the mnneyed ciasaea; 
was not part of the programme, apparently, to nhow what was 
Bet up when al! these had bean palled down. Men called him voia] 
some mail, as the eloquent Claude Uelnotte says of himself, sdJ, 1il~ 
ClBude Mflnotte, whom otherwise he did not greatly reaembte, 
heeded them not. 

The old friendship hetween liiro and Morse hatl never fniiod or c. . _ 
flickered, although Morse had been such a brilliant success and poor 
Maateraon auch a ghastly failure. It was characterietie of tli" — 
men that Masterson did not hale Morse for his succc99,~nor uora 
deepise Masletson for his failure. Somebody once satd in Maiterson' 
bearing, "I never could quite niako out Morse;" and MastetBOi 
instantly saiil, "Make out Morse — you? why of course you couldn't. 
Who ever supposed that jou could make out Morse?" Some one si""" 
lo Morse, "Is your friend Masterson a mere mridman?" "A mi 
madman," was the cool reply. " Ho tins sjicnt a fortune in what 
believes to ts the cause of the people. Tou and I, my dear fellow, 
not Bueh fools as to do that sort of thing, are we ? " 

" I am at home to Mr. Masterson," Morse said to his servant that 
morning. "I am always nt home to Mr. Mabterson; but he is coming 
by apecial appolntmcDt at oiovcn to-day." 

At tie fixed hour Masterson made his appearance. He" ' ■"" 
thin man, who had once been handsome. Be whs about the 
aa Uoree, perhaps a rhade younger, but be looked full sixty. 
dark beard was nearly all grey; his face was seamed and lined all 0V« 
his ayes were keen, wild, and restless. His long lean hands tremhlt 
Uc was very poorly, or perhaps carelesaly, dressed. Yet he was unmin- 
takably a gentleman — a ruined gentleman. 

" Good morning, my dear Morse." He talked in a voluble, nervous 
way, and did not often, when he could, give nnykdy else a chance, 
"1 am EO delighted to see you, my dear fellow. How is dear Lady 
Betty ? I haven't seen her for some time " 

" Your fault, old man, not hers," Morse contrived f o strike in while 
Hosterson, who had been walking fast, was taking breath and preparing 
for a long delivery. 

" 1 know, I know ; just what I aay. Kindness itself. Lady Betty ; 
I always say so," he exclaimed, still pacing restlessly up and down. 
"But 1 am one of the people— a democrat, a rebel, they say. It 
wouldn't do for me to intrude upon Court gatherings or informal 
Cabinet councils. Every one knows that Lady Betty's drawing-room 
in a political meeting-ground; all the better for the purpose, because 
no one could accuse her of being a f-emale diplomatist, and because you 
are — what you are. Oh, what might you not be, now that you have 
cut yourself loose from the mob of aristtximts and capitulists ? " ' 

The demagogue paused for a moment, and, lifting his thin h 
t^ed Morse with tragic earnestness. 

"Sandham, Sandham, if you bad chosen a wife as I would havi 
ywi ohoosB " 



dn't. 



b^H 



SI '^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

" A wiiraao's rightB' oratress or a Bhrieking feniiile philosoiilier, 
iijsttaii of a. member of our effete and corrupt arUtocraoy," said liorae 
with a kugb. "Never mind, KListerson; we won't di^cusa Lady 
Betty from that point of view, unj-liow. Bit down, nnd let us talk in 
earnoRt.'' He seated himself ia one of the big leather annchaira, but 
Uasterson did not at once take anonher. 

"Look herel" he eicl&imed, BLill pacing restlessly up and domt, 
" I want juEt to say a few words to you. You are a busy man ; ao am 
I." Poor Mftaterson delighted ia belieriag that some tremendoiw 
transactions were alvcaya awaiting his comiog for their satitfactary 
fl'ttloment. "I have another engagement olmoBt immediately, down 
at the East End — I should aay aeven milea from here. But youis \% 
the more important, that I will say — the more important." 

"I haven't any other engngement for nearly an hour," Morse s^d. 
"I am always glad to see you; always glad to hear your views and 
projects," 

"They will soon bo sometbii^ more (tan projects. They will be 
great historical facta," exclaimed Maaterson excitedly. " Tou haven't 
believed in me ; you have said to yourself that I'm all gas and 
denunciation. But you shall believe in me, and what is more, Sandhaui, 
you shall help me to save England." 

He drew up a chair tu the writing-table, and went on in his former 
tone. His manner was a curious couiUuation of fuaaineas and rathar, J 
inclodmmBtic declamation ; and the twu styles seemed to oltermU 
with each other. 

" I should like to help you in llial" Morse s^d. 

"Thanks I" he said. "Yes, I know you mean it, dear old I 
over so good of you. But you were always like that. Well, I ali,,^.^ 
keep you a quarter of an hour — this time, at least. What I vantfl 
ask you is this, Morse. You have broken awiiy from your old n 
— God be thanked and God bless you for it!— Will yon coil_ .._ 
IIS ? " He laid his liand on Morau'a shoulder and gazed into bis fi 
with an expression of painful Bns.iety and entreaty in his glitte ' 
dark eyes. 

There was a moment's silence. The ticking of the little olock q 
the cliimney-piece was heard distinctly. Morse wns looking at Uuta 
sun J but their eyes hardly met, Morse was thinking to himself [,-1 
was asking himself, "Is there anything in this? How, if he shoo, 
not be the mere fanatic, and craze, and crank all men ol the world ■<Q'^ 
is V How, if he should have got hold of a true idea, and should comaS 
the end to have a people behind him? He would not be fur this wa^ 

" Look hero, dear old friend," Morse said at litst, " you know whntl 
think of yon, and I needn't say anything on that score; but 1 donj 
really know much about your csuse or your objects or your followiri 
I am nut n thinking man ; 1 want to bo a practical man. I honour u . 
thinking men ; I respect even the dreamers. I am sure we should 
have but a poor and pitiful world of it if it were not for the dreama 
Their dreams of the morning become our realities of the afternoon. 



RED CAP AND WHITE COCKADE. 



JtDow all that; but I haven't time, and I euppo<« I haven't patient 
Anyhow, I feel that that isn't my line. I am good Tor nothing off ti 
firm ground of practical, commonplace politics. Now. what I wnnt 
know is tliis: Are you and your peaple on the firm ground cfpraclu 
pulitfcs? Is your ideal attainahle — in our lime? Iii it within poasit 
teftch in this next generation or so? I don't atop now to ask, is il 
true ideal ? — I take it on your word that it is. But, what aro its chancoa 
si the preaent? What ia your following? What numboraara behind 
jou? What forcB of inlelligeoM is with you?" 

MaaterBnn's bright eyes dilated. Hia nervous fingers intoriiued as 
he lUiened. 

" Morse, you talk like a statesman and like a man. I could not 
have asked for better, and yet I might weU have expected as much 
from you. All we waat is to have our cause and our capabilitiea tried 
and tested. All 1 want of you is that you should judge for yourself. 
Come and study us ; si^e if we have not the Eagllah puojJa behind us. 



I 

it A ■'' 



"Will you talk with some of our representative men? Tl 
not put you in any false position." 

*' My dear Masterson, I don't care one straw what position I 
inta, false or true, so long as I have a chance of informing m; 
to the real stren^h of any movement which I am told is popular and 
important. I am staking a good deal as it ia : I am not afraid to risk 
a little more— if there is auy risk. How can I see your repreHcntatire 
pecplB, and when ? " 

Maaterwn leaned hij head upon his hand and thought for a little; 
then said, with a ceriain hesitation — 

"Well, the best time to see aonie of our belt men would be on a 
Sunday evening. Would you mind ? Sunday is Ihtir free day. 
aee, Morse, our best men are not swells or smart ptxiple." 

■' My dear Mostiriion, I know perfacily well that you don't now _ 
in your lot with swells and smart people. 1 know that yoa hai 
deliberately come out from among the swella nn<l smart people; anf 
don't look much to them for the regeneration of England. I want 
aee your men," 

Mastcr^on's eyes lighted "ith joy. 

"The BDoner the belter!" ha enolaimad, 

*■ Tho sooner the better, certaiuly." 

"Next Sunday eveninR?" 

" Next Sunday?" Morso said, thinking it oixK "Neit Sunday; 
nie aee. Lady Betty keapa cotmt of niy social engagements for 
bat, oil yes, I remember. NoJ:t Sunday, Paulton, tho new Amer ^ 
Mluisttf, dines with us, and 1 take him on to iho Universe Club after- 
wards. That won't be vary lato. however. I oould go with you then. 
Do your people mind sitting up lare ? " 

"They would eit up a wet-k for the chance of a conference with 
yoa," snid Maslerson, enlhufiaslically, 



1^ 



54 



''THE RIGHT HONOURABLE* 



" WcL, now, look here; suppose yon dine with us on Sunday. WB^1 
go with Faulton to ths Universe after; and then yon shall bring me 
10 meet jour friends," 

Uuterson seized at the proposal. 

"I should like that of nil ikinga, I should bedeligbtoil toliavo a 
talk with Faulton. 1 did meet bim onco, vx the Sjenate House at 
Washington, jrears ago. He could tell me a lot of things that I 

particularly want lo knnw. Cut " and he seemed to demur. 

"But, then, some of your people won't core to meet rae, Morse, any 

"We have only Paulton and a Tery few others — people you would 
like to meet and who would like to meet you— on Suudiy; it isn't 
really a dinner-party. Even if it were, what would thai matter?* 

" Well, one thinks that it might perhaps emharrass Lady Betty. 
I »m so unpopular, Morse, in what is called society, you haven't an 
idea; people of that kind dnso hat«ii:>el" 

"My dear fellow, when, do you think, ilid Lady Bolty ever turn a 
cold shoulder to a man because be was unpopular?" Morse answered, 
ft little impatiently. " We don't go in only fur smart people." 

MasteiEon threw a queer little glance at his friend, "Lady Betty 
looks upon us all as so many play-actors," he said. " She compoBes 
her social circle as Dord might one of his big pictures. She doesn't 
care what ne think so loug as we make up n picturesque background 
and don't crowd hec principal figures. But I wonder what aha^d My 
if she knew tlmt we were going to pull down her pretty inBtitutions— 
if she thought that we were really going lo depose her dear Prince and 
Princess? I fancy she might turn the cold sboulder on us all then." 

Morse's face darkened. He looked annoyed, and Masteraon was not 
too full of one idea to sea that he had gone too far. He went on 
qtiickly — 

"At any rale, Mnrse, PU be here on Sand.iy, and Pm much obligsd. _ 
to you for asking me. Then you will coma and talk with my peopi' 
Monse, I am no prophet, but 1 can see thnt this may be a groat a 
for Englfind." 

Ha rose from his sent, his eyes aflame with enthusiaara. 

Morse shook his head, 

"Don't ba too sanguine; don't espoct anything from i 
know that you have accused me of biLving lately become hor 
practical, and un en thus las lie, and calculating, 1 don't believe I \ 
be able to go with you ; but it shan't be said of me that I reftised b 
hear what you have got to say." 

"Thanks, thanks; a thousand thanks' That is all we ci 
you just yet. Come and see and hear. The revolution is 
wa.itB only for the man and the signal. You are the man- 
ia mine lo imitate — not to lead. It. shall he yours to gire the signs 
He wrung Morse's Ijnnd in gratitude, and ihere wei'e tears i~ """ 
Then he abruptly bade Morse good-bye. 

Morse bad thought it more prudent not to say anything to Mastai 






T*^ 



RED CAP AND WHITE COCKADE. 



R>Ut 'he prospect of n-ar. It u-ould be much bolter, ho fell 
i oiu for hiriiKcIf JQ the 6rst itiEtanne what iho Htrecgth and 
the spirit Hud purpose of Slasterson's psrty might be; if, in fart,' 
reftlly wns a political part; at all, or oulja knut of ignorant enthuiii 
in « bock room. 

UastorsoD went off in full delight. It was always Hs way to tbl 
knytliing gained n-bicli he desired to see gniacd; and now his mind 
filled with the conviction that he had only to bring Morso fiice to 
with hb pnity in order to satisfy Moisa that the people of Engli 
wen with them, and that Morse's place was at tbeir bead. Ho ~ 
utterly vfithout selfish ambition ; aod having speut his fortuna on 
ideas, it would be the crotvn of bis life if he might now say tc 
foUowHB, " BeboiJ, 1 have brought you your loader ; your heaven- 
leader, whose place it was my duty for a time to till. I have brought 
you Sandbam Murse, and now I fall into the rauliB." 

Morse could see all this well eaough. He was thinkiog of It ai 
be went towards Lord Forrest's house; he was turning it over ami 
meditating on it in bis peculiar nay. Moras was sincere when bi 
epohe wall of the dreamers. For all his practical traiiiing be was d 
(:ood deal of a dreamer bloiself. The moment the practical part of bit 
mind went off guard, if we may jnit it in that way, Sanilhaiii Murse 
instantly relapsed into a dreamer. lie bad obserred this himseir, 
Iras amused by it sometimes, 

Xiord Forrest lived in a g;reat gaunt old house in a great gaunt 
square. The house looked sumahow as if it ought to to empty; 
wise as if it ought to be occasionally visited by a ghost. Cue exp _ 
to see a hatchment upon it, and by a curious ossociatiun of ideas it 
brought Balzac and Thackeray at ooce to one's mind. 

Lord Forrest never entertained, never hnd company of any kind 
When bis son had friends to dina with bim — for Lord Arden was 
encouraged to amuRe himself in any way he pleascd-~-hi3 father hardly 
ever made one of the company. Whan tha frieads were very intimate 
indeed. Lord Forrest sometimes come in aft«r dinner and smoked a 
cigarette. Yet be was not by any means an ungenial man, and when 
in the mood for talking he was a very good talker. Ho liked some 
women very much ; Lndy Betty, perha[is, moat of alt. Ha would 
never go to her house when there whs any stranger there ; but he was 
often well pleased to go and have luncheon witb her iele-A-lete, or for 
hor to come (jj his house and have luncheon with him. Of Morse hu 
krtevr little more than the fact that he was Lady Betty's husband, nud 
vaa a very sincere and honourable man, but an extreme politician who 
vns the (dul end hope of parliamentary democracy, 

I/^rd Forrest was lixjked up to by evcryboiiy ns a man of great 
ttbitity, and, apart from his own peculiar views, princiiiles, imd pre- 
judices, a man of great judgment and force of character. His territorial 
influence was ra»t; his ix>litical infiuence might have been vast if ho 

^'^Kncn to luep it in any manner of exerciso, llut he took no port 
cal life Duw; he had altogfsther given u^i all^iiLdlng tbo IIoiim 



'1 




^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 



1 



of Lords. ITo liiid only once ajKifccn in that House, nnd that was w 
eome sudden and unexpected debate brought up a quefitinn conceining 
the Conservative pnrty, its hi'loricnl poi-ition, and its foreign policy; 
then ho rose and Hpokc for more than hnlf sn hour, astoniabing erery 
one 'who Ix^rd bim by tbe Ringular power and eloquence which he dis- 
played, dnd by hia Bcom alike for the modem Tory and the modem 
whig. There wns a cold clearneas about hia argument which reminded 
older mombers of Lyndhurst, until towiirds the end he warmed into a 
wrt of hnlf-poetic impassioned style in denunciation of the foreign 
policy of both parties, which rec»Iled Bome of the bold ami thrilling 
nighta of Lord Ellenborough. "When he Bat down, every peer felt 
convinced that a new and a grejit career waa opening. Lcrd Arden, 
much younger then, and just returned from wandering in the South 
Book, happened to come in front of tbe throne where privy councillors 
and the sons of pcera are privileged to Btand. He waa nt once stnick 
with the argument, the eloquence, the style of the speaker. But the 
place waa crowded, he could not see well, and did not know until the 
speech nnx done that it waa spoken by hit father. It was Morse who 
told him; Morse was utonding in front of him. Since that unexjjected 
display Lord Forrest had never spoken, and only once appeared in the 
House of Lords. 

Lord Forrest did not, however, discourage his son when Lord Arden 
desired to become a mcmi>er of the House of Commona. He gave him, 
indeed, all the help and encoumgement he needed; but he did not 
afterwards talk much with him about politics and hia xfarliamentaiy 
career. Nobody knew why Lord Forrest kept himself Ihus apart from 
active life. People talked of tome great disappointment which had 
come on him ; but nobody seemed to know what it was or to have any 
particular reason for believinE that anything of the kind had really 
liappened. Every one knew that he detested both the great political 
partieg, and that he denied the right of the reio;ning family to sit on 
the English throne. He was still a devoted adherent of the Stuart 
cause. Lord ForrcKt, be it understood, was not merely a sane man, 
but n man of sound sense and clear understanding. He was well aware 
of the fact that he was living in the nineteenth century, and that the 
lineal descendant of the hist Stuart king no longer looked on the earth. 
He had neither hope nor purpose of dethroniug the reigning family. 
But he denied that because he lived in the nineteenth century ha was 
hound to accept all the nineteenth century's ways ; and he refused to 
sea that because a certain dynasty was firmly established on the throne 
he was condemned to allow it to become established also in his ooo- 
Bcience. Therefore ha refused to join in any acknowledgment of a 
revolution which he believed to have been impious, or of a throna 
which he believed to be set up in opposition to diwiiie precept. A 
wrong he insisted waa a wrong always. There was no statute of 
limitation to give it legal sanction. A tolerant man as regarded othera, 
he was rigid in ruling himself; and he would not conform to the wava 
fi! the time. So he lived his own life aj'art. He travelled, he n 



RED CAP AND WHITE COCKADE. 



hu enjoyed scenery tsA aUiw, and ennrisea and ■uiuet* ; he loral 
And antiquitiGS and curios ; he wnn sin^srty well acquminted wiCh^ 
history tind with literatuie; be wu a liQguiit sud even • ccbc' 
rmding new books as well as old, and not «corning even V> Nsul .__ 
daily papers ; but for the rest Uving^ his own life alojMt sa oompletclfy 
u though he were ft Hermit in the ThetniiL 

Aa Horse came up to Lord Forrest's beiTy ntone portico and wm 
about .to ring, the door opened, sod Lord Arden caiae out. The Toanf 
man, who, notwithstaDdlDp hia occasi-onnl diairibee ai^iott social ^uun>, 
wu ahy like his father, shgbtly coloiin>d on Kcing Horse. 

tfiiey exchanged a word or two of formal eiviliiy, "I know tar 
father is eipectiog you," Arden said ; "he is in hi« rtudy. You doa t 
know the way, perhaps. Let me show it to you." 

Be showed Morse the way and then left him. 

"That young man doesn't like me," Morse said to hImaellL "I 
know it," Ho would rather, somehow, that I.ord Arden had not aecn 
him there, and had not known anything of his coming. "OF coume 
he will teU Betty be saw me here, and she will wonder why I ocim 
here, and what 1 could want of old Forrest — whu Is fond of her, but 
never made the Bmnllest approach to me; sod I couldn't make it all 
clear to her. She wouldn't underBtand me." 

All this crossed bis mind in the few seconds which pasaed whila lie 
ivas entering Lord Forrest's study. He had never hwn there befop 
and just DOW his mind was too full of anxious thmi^t fir * ' 
ubaerre the indications the room gave of the virtuo«o and 
letters. Lord Forresl^s study 8ug^;ested a combination of the Uf 
t/luny and the library of soOte old Italian paLice, It was full _ 
■curiosities, rare hooks, old miniatures, and bric-ft-brao anscged villi] 
the loving care of a connoisseur, if not the taatc of aw "" 

liture was all beautiful and quaint, some of it inlaid, nt 
■lata than the !Begency. On the mantelpiece was a clock by Uouchieft' 
unique of its kind. Here was a wrought iron frame with a medallioa.' 
likeness in repoussS silTer of Uarie Antoinette ; there a Catherine IL'^ 

'd snuff-box, with enamel paintings by Tan Qlarenberghe, wblob 

1 been bought out of a celebratod collection. Lord Forrest wK 
standing before a plnq^uo of Ciubbio ware paiated with a Madonna, gor- 
.geoiis in colour, full of gold lustre snd the inimttablo ruby red, the 
asdouhted work of Maestro Ocorgio, as seemed conveyed by the dclicato 
BatisfocUon with which its o^v^c^ contemplates iL 

IiOid Forrest turned ns his visitor entered. He was a tall, stooping, 
but stalely old man, with a small white beard, peaked in a fashion 
that su^esled the wearing of an Elizabethan ru£F. His hands were 
tvn sDtnSl and wliitc, and somewhat shrivelled. Hia eyes were a deep 
daTK> contrfisting curiously with his white hair and beard and eyobron-s. 
The eyes did not seem thosa of a man bom to bo a recluse and n 
dreamer, although the shy, reserved, almost shrinking manner would 
hav« given evidence to any keen observer of the sort of life which had 
Tor years boon contracting round lliat wasted face nml figure. Lord 



1 



S8 '^TIIE RIGHT HONOURABLE.'' 

Forrest cume forward with digniGed cordiality, and odiUefiiwd flomiB 
welcoming jihrnses to his gueat — at first with a perceptible hesitation, 
which he conquered and banished hj an equally perceptible eSort. 
Then ha spoke with groat deUberation and distinctness, every sjllablo 
falliDg on the ear like the sound of a drop of water. 

"I am much honoured by a viait from Mr. Morse. I do not My 
this merely, Mr. Morse; I feel it. I feel, too, that I ought tu have 
put myself more often in the way of seeing tho huaband of a very deaf 
young friend. But I am n atrange and lonely man, Mr. Morse, and 
my odd habits grow on me," 

Morse's answering smile seemed peculiarly sweet, because when ha 
was approaching thu old peer there was something commanding in hii 
air, and the expression of hia fac« was more than usually rcsolute- 

"I am much obliged to you, Lord Forrest," he said, "I know of 
your ways from my wife; and if I didn't, I should feel rather more 
courage than I do with regard to the object of my viait." 

Lord Forrest bowed and seated himself, motioning Morse to a chair 
and waiting for him to go on. 

"May 1 ask. Lord Forrest, that you will oonsider as strictly privata 
what I may say to you — in the event of your not seeing your way to 
ngrea to what I propose?" 

Lord Forrest's impassive look clianged for a moment to one of alert 
interest. Then he became coldly digniiiod again. 

" I readily give that promise. No one who has heard anything of 
Mr. Morse can suppose he is a man tu seek out or tu ofTe' uimecessary 
confidences." 

Moraa paused a moment, and looked steadily at his companion. 

" Thames, very much. I shall come straight to the point. You are 
not fond of much talking any toore than I am. Look here, Lord 
Forrest, you do nat mix much in the active world, hut you love your 
country, her people, her honour, and her interest?" 

" Very dearly ; you do me no more than justice." Lord Forrest did 
not express the slightest impatience in look, gesture, or word. He 
did not seem as if he wished to ask, "What is all this coming to?" 

"Yery well. You are not content with the present conditioa ef_ 
things in England ? " 

"Far from it. Who that lovod England could watch her A 
with content ? " 

'■ You sec, of course, that we are drifting into a great wi 
» e are in the wrong ? " 

"I cannot help seeing it." Lord Forrest bent a little forward,!! 
voice took a sharper tone. "I see it with pain. I must say also, Jf 
Morse, your people were drifting into a war just as much as these a~ 

" I know it ; I admit it to the full. That is the eurte of the prei 
system. Our fellows wanted to be popular. These fellows in 
want to go one better. They will provoke a war, I firmly \ ' 
before the elections, if th''y can, in order to keep in ofBce." 



[ 



RED CAP AND WHITE COCKADE. 59 

"Yes; I date say. It is a shame Kcd a scandal. But I have no 
dmibt your forecast of the «itualion is jierfectly just." 

" You know," contiDued Morse, " how easii j a war spirit can ba got 
into force. Some snub to our ambaBeador, Home acrimnii^e on a frontier, 
a few leadicg articles about the Sag of England, and tiiere jou aral 
We shall have the man in the strceta shrieking about the honour ot 
England, and the bald clerk on the lop of the Islington omaibua inslab- 
ing that the Uinistry must declare war or reisiga." 

Lord Forrest smiled a faint smile. 

" Mr, Morse, for a Radical, doesn't seem quite a believer in the supw- 
human intelligence of the lower middle class." he said. 

"I don't believe in the superhuman inlelligetice of any class. But 
a thia inatance I am sure the working men are all right, and I fancy 
tbe best of your class. Lord Forrest, are right enough ulsa 'i he ques- 
tion is, can we act t<^ether ? " 

Lord Forrest stroked his pointed beard with one thin nerroua hand. 

"I am sure I should have no objection. I hope, Mr. Morse, you 
dont think I have any paltry preju^Jice agoinft the working olaas, or 
■ny disinclination to go heart aud hand with them ? I mean, of course, 
if there were anything I could do, which there is not, I am afraid." 

"Yes; there is something you cud do," Morse said bluntly. 

"WhatUthat.pray?" 

"Go down to the House of Lords, make a speech — moving for papers 
r asking a question, or anything of the kind. Denoimee the policy 
which is now conspiring to make a war in order to keep in ofBoe. 
You will find the best men in the army and navy with you, for they 
know — who could know so well? — that we are not prepared for war. 
We wilj support you — my Radical working men. 1 will strike the 
some note in the House of Commons, and it shall bo ethoed from a 
hundred platforms. Between us w« aboil kill that war, and perha^M 
the sort of policy which engenders it." 

Lord Forrest was silent for a moment. 

"Have you considered, Mr. Morse, what reaponsihility they would 
take on themselves — when the general elections were over, 1 meaa — 
who had killed that war policy? 

" I have 1 of course, I have. I sTiould never have come to see you 
if I had not. If we 6ght the elections on this platform, and if we win, 
then we must lake the responsibility. Ibu must form an Adraitiiatro- 
tion, utterly independent of party. I will supi>ort you — I will join 
you, if you like." 

The two men looked straight into each other's eyes. Lord Forrest 
WU startled. Yet he evidently did not wish to show how strongly the 
piapcMition had affected him. His face would have been a curious 
study. He did not apeak. One elljow was resting upon a table beside 
bU Miair. He made a movement and a little silver patch-boi on the 
table rolled to the ground. He picked it up before he answered. 

"la Prime Minister 1 " he said at last. "I think," he added slowly 
"that at this crisis £nj;?snd needs & atrongcr bul'RVOi'iL.'' 



i 



I 



6o ''Tim RIGHT HONOURABLE* 

Morse roue Trom hu choir aad atood by the hearth. ** Are we 
he began with energy, not hseding Lori) ForreBt'a protasl — "are we 
not di'ipiaed abroad, and miserable at home? Have we not drifted 
Into ft TOlicy of petty, paltry, never-euiiins wars with wretched half- 
cinlized races, whom wa mns^cro, no one knows why ? Arc not out 
ticoplo at, home cruelly taxed and miserably poor ? Isn't trade pining? 
Is not agriculture ruined? In there not a social revolution seething 
around us and beneath ub7 Hnve we not a horde of the poor in every 
quarter and every street, who, if they could only find a common watch- 
word and make a common cause, would sweep off the face of the eaith 
Uio wretched sfaam we call our civilization? Are not these things 
true? Do I exaggerate?" 

"Tliose things are true— too true; and you do not exaggerate, not 
In the least. But what do you propose to do? whom do yau 
blame ? " 

"Lord Forrest, T blame you, and I IJarao myself, and I blame every 
man who has any influence in this sinking country and does not e»ort 
his influence to put a stop to the wretched system of party govern- 
ment which mnkea the fate of a whole people only a stepping-stone to 
nflice. The mass of the people must be brought into touch with the 
Qovernmcnt before anything can be done for the prosperity or the 
honour of this country. Well, I have, of course, ideas of my own 
whicli I couldn't eii«ot you ur any man of your class to share. I 
have lived and heea an active pulitician in the United States and in 
iome of our colonies; and I huva got to miderstand the value of 
Koverament by the iieople, I am a republican in principle. Lord 
Forrest ; but I hsven't coma to talk to you about that I have come 
with quite a diHurent idea— just to fight against this criminal scheme 
of war, I am pretty strong, I think, with what we may dftll 'thi 
people' for want of any better description. It sounds too liku a phrase 
Irom a Ilndical stump-orator or a Radical Sunday paper; but it con- 
veys a dlitinct meaning. I am very strung with the people, aud after 
the nest elections shall \» much stronger. Very well I You are very 
strong with the ariBtocraoy, or could b^ if you liked. I put aside my 
own Ideas for the present, and I ask you. Will you join with me and 
help me to secure jieace for England, and with peace the inestimable 
blessinj; of a Government which shall have nothing to do with party, 
and will at least govern the country for the people until the time comes 
when it can be safely governed by the people ? " 

Morse said all this in a low, deep tone, with no gesture of any kind ; 
the intensity of his earnestness only showing itself in his eyes and in 
a certain quivering of the veins in his strong hands. He hod stood up 
when he was beginning to speak, but it suddenly seemed to him as if 
to talk standing up hod too much of a theatrical aspect, and, after 
a minute, he quietly resumed his seat and went on with what he had 

Again Lord Forrest stn<ked bia beard as if in deep thought, and hi* 
tt-MtohrowB bent over his dark eyes, which gazed Hxedlyat the Qut" 



LbtMg 



KED CAP AND WNITE COCKADE. 




vatn tBosunging U<irM to hope thkt ba h*il ionplraA I 
dwn^ta of Botioa. 

Qjaetimm, Ur. Uotse? Do tou rMlly mk u 
ib»woiU — (o go JDto public life nm) ti> takp part id • 

Lord Forrert ; (Iiat b vh*t I do luk yt«x to ^n. Id kU I 
wu dan jon m tfas cnly laan wito could do whiti I wniit donfl^ I 
T«asw0 Benr > froftBdoDal )<oli[idRn i ftll who know jou ur any^l 
lUng of 7«a v«aU tnjd jou to the full. Tbe {leople, dh I cnl) ibuin. 
IM&K iii^y Bf J^ou, tbe poor kll wiort your son ; ytyar gmit ablllljr U 
bwim enrpihere, uid it is at! tbe better that it basD't bocn nhrcdilod I 
ftmy ia ft Hie of polttiod struggle." fl 

Lovd F«m«t nuide a gesture ai deprecntion. Monu went on, " 0\\\f 3 
taQ DM lo-daf that jou are wilting to take the lead ur an Adtnliitiitnk^ \ 
tioB whkli u to have no concern with party, and I will I«II all tlioM ' 
uverwLom I have any intlucnce thut they nro boat nerving ilidr 
^oaaVj vben tbt-y insist on putting you at Iho bend of HfTjtlK, All 
tbe Rirei^th 1 have ehall bo yours. If you deiiiru it, an<l will ooorpt J 
vif Bervicea, I will aenre under you. Cume, Lord Forrait, tbluk 111 
uTW, at liaj-t. ITie peoilo of this counlrj' i!o not »hi>Iiy hate aM4 
ijes^ie their own an^tocrnoy — yet. Let ihem oome togclhec 
them X chanciv luu are the only mnn who con do it." 

Lord Forrest rose abruptly, and made a few ijaci-a Torwiitd and back 
again. Morse remained waiting the effect of bU wnrclN. 

"Hr. Morse, I am, I might almoet lay, bcwiUlorod. You ara a 
leading man in polilics, a practical man, a man uf ureat ability and 
iuflueuce. Wliat you say must, therafon^, have Boiiiulbini! i« it worth 
tlM Att«ntloir of any one; and yet I cannot umleiHiaiid ull lliio, , 
tUmember that I have nerer taken any part iu ]>olitic4. 1 know ' 
uuihing of the mnnagiement of publi-c busiiiuBB." 
"That ic exactly why wo want yuu." 
"We? Are there othera?" 

"Tm. 1 have not ventured to mnha this appeal lo you on my cwti 
port merely. I did not think it right to iionk to you until I cuidd be 
carton that I Hpoke fur others aa well, and that I could givo you all 
Ihe strength and support I aui now able to olTor. I can oifer to you, 
Lord Forreel— to you, wh» are, L boIiovOi In priuciple, a strong ] 
rcHCtionary— tfie wappofl of the great mass of the domiwratio party in , 
ttiis cotintry. 'I'bty look to you, not as a reactionary, but as a bight J 
Ittindcd man ; hb a man I'f cuminanding abilities and inUuence ) a inai'^ 
iif authority. We arc eii'k of jiarty guveriitnent. Ws l>elioi 
degraded ua and wenkcnrd us ; kept our ixior poor, and our ignom 
tgnorwt. Wb mk yuu to try a lieitor ayatcm, and wo pay thia 
reactionary though you be, wo, the true dcmocirnis, will trust iu ydl 
and gire you our nioat cordial supjiort, and chII fur yuu fiuni uvur; 
platfurm in the country." 

" And you, Mr. Morse," Lord Forrest anid, with a grave a 
gioclous wnilc, "you declare yourself nilliiig to take uflioij with n»™ 



6a ^'THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

in an AdminUttation ; ^u, wha people Bay hAve odj to wait for 
the general elrctionB to liecnnie the ItadicHl Piime Minister ? " 

"I tun willing to take office with you, under you, to take any office, 
Bud to poxtpone my Badlcal purposes until we shall Qisc have »v«i 
the St&te." 

"I wonder how many of my friends would balieTe this if they wets 
to hear of it on any autUority but that of you or me ? Now, Mr. 
Uorse, I will answer you. Well, I caonot but feel greatly compli- 
mented and greatly honoured by what you have said of me, and by the 
confidence which you are willing to place in me. But you have over- 
rated altogether my abilities and my Iniliience. I am qulto unequal 
to a part »uch aa that which you are kind enough to tbiuk latillmight 
play. Twenty years ^o ; ten years ago ; perluipa even five years ngo 
I might have hod Ihe mental and budily strength ; I might even have 
had some of the inclination, Mr. Morse ; but then, as now, there would 
have been one insuperable difficulty." 

" I have heard something of ihjt," MnrBo said ; "but surely, t^ord 
Forrest, a mere scruple, a sort of punctilio, uf that kind, is hardly 
MriuuB enough to prevent a patriotic Englishman from doing a duty to 
his country ?" 

" It is not a scruple or a punctilio with me, Mr. Morse ; it is a set 
and fixed principle. I cnn hold no ofSce under a dynasty made by a, 
revolution. I respect the reigning sovereign for her personal virtue 
and her great good-will to her people ; I respect all her family because 
uf my respect foF hen but I cannot in my conscience do any act of 
homage or recognition to the House of Hanover. It is impossible, Mr. 
Morse. I am not an Oiiportuniat.'* 

"Nor I," Morse said almost roughly; "but surely we must take 
realities as we tind them. Here is the House of Hanover ; we have 
nothing to put in its place." 

"No? I iiod always understood that Mr. Morse would, if he could, 
put something in its place?" 

"A republic? Ye-, Lord Forrest, certainly, with all my heart; I 
would if I could. But I don't see much chance just at the moment, 
and in the meantime I thini: we must do the kst we can for the 
country with the means at our hund." 

" Your case b different, mine admits of no argument Tou are 
young, you are strong; you have your place and your work in politics; 
you are a distinct power and an influence. Even in my hermit life I 
find some sound of your career bomo in upon my ea>B every now and 
then, as a lonely man in a study or an invalid in his bed might hear 
the sounds of a military band marching past. You may well think 
you are bound to make the best of things as they are. But I have no 
call to politics ; I have given up all place in puliiical life. I do not 
feel that I have any " mission," if I may use that rather grandiloqnenl 
word. I do not believe I have any longer the capacity to do any 
real service to the country. I don't believe I, or you and I togethei, 
could prevent this war ; and 1 may safely Indulge my scruples, evea if 



^^ 



KOORAU ANI> HER REEDS. 



1 



9 



thpy were no more ihnii scnipies. No, Mr, Morse; it Cftr 
Deeply aa I feel the honour jvu Lave ^one me, I mua( refuau." 

"I am Eorrj," Morse said bluntly, and he got up, 

"But you are not sony that joii hare cutne lo see me, I hope! 
You are djsappoiiite<), no doubt j but nut surr^ that we have lud this 
ulk together?" 

"Certuoly not. Lord Forrett; and I don't know that I am even 
dinffoiiilcd ; for ) did not really eK|>ect thut I should be able io pre- 
tnI on you. But I thought 1 woubl do my best, aud at least Icare no 
stone unturned." 

"I am very glad we have met," liord Forrest said, rising; "we 
nndeistand each other— fur the fir^t time. I hare heard you apuken of 
as ftn unbiticuB and self-seeking man. 1 now see that you are a patri- 
otic Englishmau; 1 respect you; and I shall always believe ii 
whatever tongues may apeak against you." 

They parted without many more words. Morae weot awny 
impreased by the futile chivalry, the heroic ecriiples, the inHexi 
bopelesa purpiKie of tbe old mon; the last surviving chan]|)ion of 
Jacobite lost cause; the msn who was fuilhful to its meinory when 
nothing but a memory of the vaga^st bind was left. It had been aa 
eRbrt to him to mnke up his mind to go to Lord Forrest, whum he 
only knew through Lndy Betty, and of whom he knew that Lord 
Forrest would not have him Lady Betty'u husband if he could. Truth 
to say, Morse felt sometiirjes a little "sat upon" by his wife's royal 
friends and noble relatively; aad a little inclined to let the spirit of 
republican democracy rise up within him in aggrestive self-asaerlioa. 
But he stiGed his objections, and lie soucht an interview with Lord 
Forrest ia the honest belief that it would be well for the ctiuntry if 
a Ministry on a new princitde couid be formed under such a man, and 
would speak bravely out for peace, 

" WcU, 1 have dune my best," he thought ; " and now 1 am free 
again to walk my own way. I muet see whether there is imything to 
come of Ma!!lereon and bis democrats. 1 doubt if they have any 
Btrength behind them : but let us see. I wish to Ileaven it could be 
made to appear thst Masterson is not the crazy f<infttio every 
he is. But even if everybody is right, 1 Ehall have done nu 
giving Djy old friend a chance of proving that everybudy was wrong,! 



CHAPrKR VIIL 

koorAli abd 19 eb beedb. 



HoBsa then turned in ihe direction of KoorWi's house, £ ^ a 

to make his firat call on her, Evoa if he had been likely to forget bis 
engagement it could not have gone out of his mind, fur that morning, 
as be waa leaving the houso. Lady Betty herself asked him to call at 
Mra. Kenway's, and ask her to come to dinner in a friendly way, ud 



I 



''THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 



tb«i go with Lody Eettj to ore of Mr. WIiiBtlert ten o'clock lecti , 

But Morse would nut have forgotten in any case. He was mucb 
interested in Kocriili ; more perhaps tL^n ho really knew ; more at leaat 
th&n he actually thought of. To certiun men a woman is sometimeis 
like ft strain cf music, nccompAnying without consciousness on thdr 
part all the movements of their minda. One sits Bt bis desk and ia 
writjng, and all the time some sweet soft notes of distant music breathe 
iato his car and his soul, atid poeticize his commonplace prosaic work 
in ft way of which he is hardly conaciouH or not conscious at alL So 
it was with Morse just now. The Eooriili music-note was with him 
while ho was arguing with Lord Forrest and when listening to Master- 
son. It was with him as he walked through the hurrying noisy 
streets, and thonght of the approaching politicid struggle and the pari 
he might have to play. Morse wah in many ways a lonely sort of 
man. Perhaps ',he was too busy to have time to be anything but 
lonely ; for he was capable of close companionsiiip and warm affection. 
The truth was be did not stop to think much about companionships ; 
and he felt that be hod from bis wife all the affection that a man of 
the world U entitled to, or conld want, or could know what to do with. 
To-day somehow lie felt younger and not quite lonely. 

Koorili was alone. He waa fhuwn into the drawing-room. The 
windows, back and front, stood open, and, though it was London, 
there was a gentle sighing brecBe, and summer'a breath still filled the 
place, The hgbt was soft, however, shaded by outside blinds. lie 
could not associate her with broad hard noonday. She was too tender, 
too sweetly serious, too poetic. This fancy glanced through his miad 
OS his eye fell upon her standing by a basket of reeds and bulrushes — 
rough, country, sedgy things — and a mass of ox-eyed daisies. She 
wore a white dress that dung nbout her as her drnperies had a 
way of clinging ; and the sleeves fell hack from bar little whita amis 
raised to adjust the bulrushes in a vase almost as tall as herself. She 
looked very small, because of her slcndernet-s, and tier face might have 
been that of a tboughtful child. Imagination draws rapid sketches 
and delights in contrasts. A vivid mental picture seemed 1o alternate 
with the actual one — curiously unlike, and yet like. Perhaps it was 
the flowers that suggested that great mass of exotics before which 
Lady Betty had stood the night before, and Lady Betty herself, also 
hlonder and small of head, in her red brocade, with her pretty frivolity 
"ad girlish laugh, sweetest flower in the hot-house of society. _ 

Eoor&li left lier reeds and daisies as he entered. She gave him . 
hand. The conventional phrases followed. It was kind of him 
come — BO soon. She was glad to bo at homa. Her husband 1 
the bouse somewhere. And tJie mode a movement towards the 

But he interposed with httle ceremony. The conventional ^i 

" Don't let Mr. Kenway be disturbed — at all events not just 
And please go on arranging yonr floweta, I should like to watci y 
'■ rill doc- - -"' 



.ur^^W 



It will do me good," 



KOORALI AND HER R££PS. fijl 



1(5^?" she askeil seriously, and went back Ui her recila. He put 
hts hat, and Dame near to her, leaning over the elid of (bo 
panA piano, which ecrved hec as n tu.bb. 
•"Why?" he repeated, with his gravo Rn-ect Bmilc, and a gesture 

Rhat g««iilcd to indicota fieedom tu take breath. "Becauso it'a 
LuEtralian, aad freeb and oaturaL Gccauae I'm s lilllo tired, I think, 
Kr the glare and noiseof life in Londvn; ihe politicnl situation — I have 
eeo faciDg it thia morning j tuid tbo ixtying of tha wor-whelps and 
Blaahing of cymbals in drawing-rooma. Ii'b a relier and a pleasure to 
Me that there are aucb things as balruehea and daisies — thoy ought 
(o be wattle-bloom and acrub-jaEmine for you. You see, Mrs. Kenway, 
that I really haven't come tu pay a duty call, and to talk ' the fine ' 
(Feather,' as last ni>;ht you seemed half afraid I meant to do." 

His words chimed with her fancy about Hm on the previous 
Dg. This was one of the moments when he etood ^k from the 
botlighta, A thrill of ]deasure shot through her that in her presence 
\e should be different from the stateemaQ Horse, whdni the world 
new ; the strong-willed, daring, patient, iconuelastic leader of 
lemocracy. 

"I knew you would not talk 'the fine weather,'" she said, 

" We didn't do so ercn the first — the only time in Australi 

■re met ; and I suppose it is just that which makes mo wuni to get off 

ihe coDventional track now," he Kijd. "I came really to talk about 

rou yourself, &!rs. Kenway, and abuut South Britain. Tou haven't 

nade it a republic yet ! ' 

" Nor have you mads Great Britain, a republic, Mr. Morse." 

"The one may come to mean the other, he returned. 

There was some talk shout a measure for enabling the Australian 

XtloDies to form a federation with England. 

"J. don't like it," Morse saiii abruptly. " I think I ought to oppose 
hftt bill. Of course It's only pormisnive, and Ihe colonies may fnirly 
ieallowed to do as Ihey like. But I don't see why they should go into 
iftderation with the old counlry." 

"Nor I," Koorfili said hastily, and then stopped, as if she ought not 
po have expressed an opinion. 

"I would rnlherhave small Statea if one could," Morse went on, 1 
* I think human character comes out^ better. But we can't help the 4 
i^lomcrationor States I suppose ; it's tlie fashion noiF. Only 1 don't 
lee what your Australian colonics are likely to get from a federation ' 
»ut some of the faults of the old ?tate. Look at that war the other 
lay that we were engaged in. Nine out of every ten Englialmien 
lete at home said in private that it was a blunder and a crime ; said 
t and believed it. Your Australian cobniats send us men to carry 
ro the war; free colonists lending th«ir helping hand to murder poor J 
knbt toe dofendin:; their country a^insl an inexcusable iuvasioni f 
what you will get by federation." _ f 

80 glad to hear you say so," Koortli eKclainiod, witH kindj 
■■"' Wftorly grieved to hear l\\M iTi-j ot w ' ■■ 



I 



I 



■what, 
n«of 
t 



66 'THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 

could lend a band m auch a cruel and shameful 'war, but every oni 
was against me." Bhe woa tliinkiiig especially of Ijer husband's nild 
exultation over the wndlko ardou r of the colonists. " And of course I 
didn't kiiow much about it; au"! I was altnoBt afraid to open mj 
taoulh." 

"Tour iuBtincta led you the right way," Morse said. "1 ehould I 
haTO known how you felt if you hadn't told me." 

Kwrlli could not help rememboriog her husband's utter amaieraent | 
when he found that she did not share hUopinions and his enthuaioam. 

" I should like to hear what you say in the House of Couimons," 
she said timidly, "about the tull." 

" K I should apeak," Moraa answered, " I will let you know in good 
time; and I will get you a place in the ladies' gallery. But it may 
not come on at all this scsaion perhaps.^ 

Then they let that subject drop. 

"Tell me," be said. " You were going to your kingilom when I 
met you thai time. Was it a happy reign? Don't you rtmemlier, 
you wished to be a 'hearl-qucea?' Well— were you? Was tbe 

The phrase she had used and which had struck Ills fancy occurred 

to him at tlie mcment. He Lad a hnlf-ivish to conyey a delicata 

oomplimeDt by Its repetition. But the compliment pnBSi'd nnnoti ced. 

KoorMi answered with gentle gravity. ^^" 

" The reign did not laat long." 

" How was that ? " he asked. " Your Cither reradned in ol 
"Ye«, for some time. But he married." ^^^ 

"And hia wife took your place! Your stepmother. Ahl — y^!^ 

■There was inTolimtarily a tmglo note in Morse's esclamaUon, He 
seemed to understand it all now. His htart was filled with pity for 
the young ignorant creature, depoacd by an unwelcome atepmifthur, 
slighted perhaps, and to whom a hunliand had represented liberty and 
a refuge. He longed to ask her aome queationa about her marriage, 
but restrained the impulse. 

" I have a Tery tender memory of South Britain," he said, 
this moment it seems hut yesterday that I watched the little i ' 
puQing up the river while 1 went out to sea." 

" Aid yet," she said, " everything has happened since then." 

" Everything ? To you ? " 

She coloured a little. 

" I have married. I have got to know the world. My c 
have come to mo." 

■' 7ou have children? " he asked. He looked at her with a k 
wiatful interest — the interest that a man may Homatimes f 
young mother when the pasting thought strikes him that his c 
wife has never had a child. 

" I have two," answered KoorJllI, " And indeed, Mr. Morae,' 
added brightly, "it mokes one feel that girlhood is a long way 



unnoticod^^ 
All I— ^5 



ra^ 



^^ 



KOORAU AND HER REEDS. 



f-^y" 



iriicD, as was ni j case tUa momiDg, aae has Co ihink of aendlag a boy 
to BchooL" 

He smiled rather sadly. " I can't, imngioe you fitting out a boj /or 
Bcbool. I can only think of you b9 Kooraii, 'the Little Queen.'" 

Agnia that shade of mcUnchoiy came over ber lace. She did not 

" Do you remember," he said, " my prophecy that before fix yean 
A noaoa.1 "6 should meet in London' 



utd paaseu ' 
"yes,".!! 



. ahe relied. "But il ia more than sis years." 
'And do you remember," he asked again, " how you told me of ■ 
fuller life — a world filled with lovely bodiless things, which seemed bo 
near to you when you wandered alone in the bush t " 

" Oh 1 " she uttered a childlike cry, and paused for a moment, looking 
at him with eyes lighted up and parted iipa. " You haven't Ibrgof 
the IboUsh things I said to you on that day — so many years ago'/" 

" I have forgutten nothing aboat that day," be answeruil. ■ 
mmuna vividly in my memory; it's like some inconipleI« poem, 
like some picture una gets a glimpse of once and once only, as 
huTries through some lorcipT> gallery, and which gets in a mom 
engraveil loatu^gly on. the mind. I am always in a hurry, and I hai 
had that sort of experience." 

"Yes," she add thoughtfully. "There are pictures like that, f 
■appose; and I know then: are scenes that stay with one always." 

" I told you," he continueii, " thnt when we met in some London 
dnwicg-room. I would ask you if you hmi kept the fancies and the 
dreams you spoke of then. I thought of that last night; but I did 
not ask you." 

KoorMi kt her hands fall, and with them a cluster of daisies that 
■he had l-een putting together. Iter Ii|i ircmblod. She bent straight 
Dpoa him eyes full of patiiiTS and questioning and then turned them 
Gluwly away agnln without replying. 

Thoy wore both dilent for a minute or two, Sha gathered up her 
dusie* once more. The breeze had risen slightly, and came in through 
the open wiudong, rustling the; bulrushes. It was not like Londi 
Romehow. 

" Do you hear the wind'" he asked abruptly, jet in a dreamy 
•■ It seems to come from a long, long way off." 

Bhe smiled aiiswi'ringly. Their eyes met — his had never left h< 
face. They exchanged silent sympathy and trust. The looks seeme 
both to say, " You and 1 g^ze l^kward across an occaTi." She turned 
•g*in to her reeds and llowers, and put the Gniahing touch to her 
work. The vase was filled now. 

"Where do you get your rushes?" he said, in the same abrupt way, 
M though be were talking to cover nome slight pnin or confusion. It 
wa* he who was embarmsaed and unlike himself. 'I'hat silent passing- 
ly of his remaikstruckhiin as pathetically significant, and, he thought, 
oharact^ristic of her. It was in keeping with a simple directness aha 
bAd — to him at least — in which he £)und her greatest charm, m 



J 



"•■^B 



68 "r//£ RIGHT HONOURABLE. 

*' They cume from a tiny plaee which tny husband hu taken" 
Lyndshire. A river flows by the house." 

"Perhaps it is our river,"said Morse. " Wc, too, have n place ia 
Lyndsbirc, nnd a river aIbo. We shall probnhly go there this Qutuinn. 
It used to ha my wire's old home, and her fatljec gave it up to her 
when we married. She is fund of Broiaswold. How strange, Mn. 
Kenway, if wh shouH both belong to the same county ! I wonder if 
you will like the country in England?" 

"I don't know mudi about that county, or about any Englisli 
country," snid Koorlli. " 1 have only been once to the Grey Sfancr 
&r a few days. Crichton took it becauEte of the hunting, I behere, 
and because it is near where his people used to live." 

They talked sonie gencraUties, and Morse delivered Lady Betty's 
invitation, and explained somewhat the nature of Mr. Whistler's ** ten 

The sudden almrp creaking of a pair of boots disturbed the conversa- 
tion. Crichton Kennay came in. Kenway was always a we!l-dresaed 
anda graceful man, but somehow or other his boots invariably creaked. 
As he waa coming in, Koorlli stood right in his line of vision, and he 
did noi see that Morse was in the room. He spoke sharply tn his wife. 

" Of course, Koorlli, I needn't n ak ; you never thought of sending 
about that coachman? 1 know you would forget it." 

" Oh no," Kooridi answered quietly. " I have sent." 

Then Kenway saw Morse coming forward, and he became suddenly 
embarrassed. Horse must have heard his worda to his wife and 
noticed his manner. He waicomed Morse cordially enough, however, 
and they talked " the fine weather," Koorili fell into the background 
a little Tot a moment or two. Kenway had seen her cheek redden 
stigbtly as he spoke to her on his coming in, and he knew that slM 
felt humiliated. Uu thought ho eaw Morse's eye resting with an ex- 
pression of commiseration on her, Kenway was a thorough man of 
the world, in the smoking-room aense of the words. Ho was a firm 
believer in the " fire and tow " principle as regards man and woman. 
Here is the fire, there is the inflammable matler; bring these two 
together and shall there not bo a blaze ? The inflammable matter in 
this instance be identified with the man. If the woman was the fire 
it was B cold fire— a fire hkc that of Vesta. He had not the slightest 
fear about Koonkli. But nn idea came into his mind about Morse, and 
it filled him with complacency. 

" Your people are coming in after the elections, every one tells me," 
he said. 

"It is hard to say," Morse answered rather coldly; "things are 
uncertain and mixed. So far as I can conjecture— it isn't much better 
than conjecture — I shoHld say we are likely to be strung." ' "~ 

"Then you are sure to be Prime Miniati-r." 

Kenway rather afiected a kind of not ungracefd bluntnesa, ft< 
to-the-point irmnner. It gavoana.ppearaiK.'ocirrriioknessandBi 
aifire was a joyous and congratulatory sound in his voice as he 



•SB^ 



« u 1 coil* "i; _«t ( 

. It Rut 






, V for U» •'^°° , . .M i„OT. 1 "{Jti." «> 






''THE RIGHT HONOURABLE* 
CHAPTER IX. 

"what WJ YOD cam. lOKDON SOCIETY?" 



1 



R Sunday dinner-party at Lady Belty'a was, aa Morse hsd tcU ' 
Uftsterftin, bidhU. Aa at first pla.nned it was to be hardly a dinner- 
party at all, in the ordinary aenso of the word; only a Sunday dinner- 
l«rty — one of thoae little gntherincs now growing common in London 
Bodety in whicli the enallncsa of the number ia euppoecd, in some aort 
of way, to mitigate the conventional objection to feativitles on lb« 
" day of rest." 

Lady Bttty camo of a aoracwhat strict family on both aides ; but aba 
liked a good deal of freedom for herself, white yet she was imwilling 
to ahock the regulated ideas of the set from amongst which ahe camo. 
So she had very aoon fallen into the way of having small, quiet, unpre- 
tentious, deprecatory little dinnera on the Sunday. This particular 
day ahe intended to have, besides Mr. Paulton, only Lady IJeveril, who 
had written novels about society tind fashion, and affected the air of a 
literary hack, talked of "copy," and inveighed against publisher!; 
Ur. Picrcy, a scientific man, considered even by his own scientiSc aet 
as Boroewbat too bigoted in hia atheism; and the Rev. Father St. 
Maurice, a young man of good fkmily, who bad been a clergyman of 
the Church of England and a popular preacher, had then become a 
free-ihlnker and started a servica and a Sunday hall of hia own, and' 
finally had gone over to the CathoUo Church. He wna a favourite in 
society through all bis changea; every ona believed in hia sincerity. 
Morse had, however, added on Masterson since then; and Lady Betty 
had bethought her of the Keswaya, and of Arden, whom ahe thought 
KoorUi wo^d Lke to meet. 

Lady Betty was especially friendly and warm to Maaterson. Shg 
went towards him holding out botii her hands when he entered, and ^e 
reproached him with gentle earnestness for not coming to see her more 
often. 

The Kenways wore a littlo late. The company, with the exception 
(if Lord Arden, was all gathered in the drawing-room before Crichton 
and Kooriii made their appearance. This was iuat as well; for Ii«dy 
Betty waa enabled to sound the praises of Koorali in advance to evary 
one of her other guesta. 

When Mr. and Mra. Crichton Kenway were announced — Kenway 
would never give hia name without the "Crichton" — Lady Betty 
tripped up to KooriJll and kissed her. The curious likeness and unliho' 
nesB at once apjiarent between the two women was again noticed by 
the husband of each one. Lady Betty's simple whito dress had b«en 
put on with the slightly malicious design that it should aerre aa a 
counterfoil to the elaborate artistic costumes, presumably to be leen at 
Mr, Whistlet'a reception. Koori\li also was in white; and there 
a little more colour than usual in ber cbetka, which made her cy 



] 



"WffAT DO YOU CALL LONDON SOCIETY f Jim 

darker and larger. 8be vaa eliglitljr coDfused for a moment by Ladj' 
Betty's kiaB, and deeply touonod by this mark of cordial ity— for 
EoorUi's heart was odc of those which unfolds to kiodnesa as a flower 
expands in sunshine. She returaed it with a look of ahy gratitudo not 
deri^d of dignity that was vary pretty, and that prepossossod every one 
present in her favour. Crichton's profuund bow was a triumph of 
dramatic art. It suggeeted somehow the thought of a mnn originally 
familiar to courts, but for some tlroe an exile from their grace and 
lendour, nud who in the Batisfactioa of his return to his rightful 
liere marks bis restoration by an especial floridness of courtesy. All 
9 time, however, he contrited to send searching glances round the 
mi, anxious to know at once who was there, and whom it would be 
wdl for him to fasten on and whom to avoid. He was a little dis- 
appointed ; there was no one particularly interesting in his senBe, he 
tbongbt, except Lady Betty herself, who was of course a great person- 
ige everywhere. 

They did not wait for Arden, who had the privileges of kinship here, 
ind was not trenteil with formality. 

Horse took down Lady Deveril ; Mr. Paulton had charge of the 
hostess ; Lady Betty introduced Mr. St. Maurice to EoorMi ; be would 
«uit her better she thought than any of the other men. The dinner 
t^le was round; the guests were not loo mnny for general conversa- 
tion. Lady Bettj.detestel what she called taih dhate dinners, where 
erery one talked only to his next neighbour. Crichton Kenway's eyes 
Eparlded with gratiScatiou as he surveyed the appointments of the 
table. He enjoyed nothing in the world so thoroughly as a good dinner 
well served. 

liady Deveril wo^ a round-faced woman, with twinkling grey eyes, 
■till young, with a moss of short-cropped hair standing out everywhere 
round her head. Father St. Maurice was tall, courtly, handsome, with 
meek grave manners whieh sometimes concealed a shaft of satire, as 
the ivy of Harraodious concealed the blade of his sword. Mr. Piercy 
was robust, with a bold square forr.'head. These two had been well- 
acquainted before St. Maurice beoarao a froo-tbinkcr, and while Piercy 
■tiU made it a practice to go to chiirch on tiunday. They were near 
each other at taijie. 

" Well, and how do you like your new supcratitioa, Maurice 1 " was 
Pfcrcy's eenial greeting. 

"Much better than our old hypocrisy," was St. Maurice's Wand reply, 
KoorMi could not help smiling ; her smile pleased St. Maurice. 
At that moment Arden entered, and after milking his apologies to 
Lady B«t^, slipped into the vacant place, which was nex.t Lady 
Deveril and opposite EoorUL 

*' I don't want much dinner. Lady Betty," he said, " T hare been 

dinins already, I am ashamed to say. You should have been with us, 

St. Maurice. I couldn't ask you, for we ate so poor that we are not 

allowed to have any guesto ; but we do a lot of good, or at least, we trj 

' to. It's for the widows of seamen, don't jmi Vaov 1 " _ 



"P" ■ 



1 

Id 



7J ''THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.'* 

There Kt ill ■ talk about the conililimi or tlunga in EDglanL 
rftulton wna vciy Anxious 10 got *0 accumie riow of everything, lod 
tbought he could not have come U> & better place for the purpoH. H« 
wked Vftrious queslions about politics and social life. Somehow tB 
found Ihftt the gnaier number of days he lived in Englami, the lew 
knovrltdgo of any accurate kind he seemed to possess. Up to lUi 
time ho had toimd himself mainly engaged in the process of getting 
rid of convictions which he hnd brought with him in advance om- 
cerning everything in England; nnd lie did not seem to be taking 1& 
muty new and tiue ideas in thi' place of those he had to thruw over- 

"What I want," Mr. Paulton BMd, "is to get information. I sm 
hero in what would ba called, I presume, n represenlative company, in 
the very heart of your London society— in your West End ; and I 
havo the rare good fortuoo to find a company which, though small, 
appwrB to mo to include representatives of very different shades iit 
puoUo opinion. Now, I want to know something about English life 
of thU pfcaiTit day. Canyoutcl! me?" 

" What do jou want to bo told about, Mr, Paulton?" Lady Betty 
wkcd. "Do you want to hear about the social revolution? Mf. 
Mnstunott cna tell you all Ihnt. Do you want to hear West End 
leiMidal? If no, I fancy I can mstruct jou as well as another, 
Badlcnlliim ? Why, you are quite near my husband, Literature? 
I,ody Dovfiril has wril'ien three novels — is It three, Susio ?— yes, ihroe 
iiovoU— find thoy have all been fftvourably reviewed in the jmperB." 

Ladv Uoveril cave a little shudder, which eeemed to toll of an over- 
tHxad btftin, " Pray don't speak of my work. It's a relief to escape 
from it, I have bren correcting proofs all the morning," 

"II that wotM Uiilu collecting 'copy'?" asked Lord Arden, 
hinoeontly. 

K'Kii'llli clnncod nt the authoress with amused interest. 

"Ml". K.'iiway is wondering ishother jou mean to turn her into 
'eu|jy,"" ciiiillnued Anion. 

"nil," "aid Liuly Doi'cril. with serene patronage, "Mrs. Eenway 
liiiBBii't uiideriilft\id our literary jargon yet." 

" Pmofii nhnold bo rend by an illiterate person, to whom the Xm 
puDctuatlun are a novelty," senlentioualy observed Mr. Piercy. 

" Corrootlug prooh ia the most maddeoing occupation \r 
irorld," said Lady Hetty, foolingly. ._^^ 

" By 11)0 way, Lsdy Botl.y," aakod Father St. Staurice, " how is your 
vtiole on Vonolinn ironwork getting on? Havo jou hunted up any 
iiorenuthorities?" 

" I hate Venice I I linte iron 1 " esclnimod Lady Betty. " I beliov» 
in occupation for women, Mr. Kun>vay,"shB added, turning lierbeamin}! 
Stuilo on Criohlon; "and I tiicd to set a good einmpla hy writiua 
thlOM, don't you know? I eihnuatod ferns and Flemish lace ; and 
now I m done to death by iron. Ill never write anything ag^n. 2 
ibd'I round my periods" ^^ 



Eenway 

^'4 



"It-'ffAT DO you CALL LONDON SOCIETyt' 7]) 

" Ob, but vro dou'C try to rouod our peiioda nowmljtyi, do we, Lwlj; 
Dereril ? " (aid Ardeti. 
There nai a laa<;h. 
Well, Mr. Paiiton," »aiil Lady Betty, " anyhow, you wn lileratunl 
epresented. LordArdeaUa 
Anny and the White Bibbon raovemect." 
Lord Anlea put ia a gealle protest. 

Lady Betty went on. "A« Ibr the contlition of ETigliud id i 
to religion ; well, here is Ur. St. Maurice. He uught to know nil 
tliat, tiis experience has been varied." 

<■ b Engla&d improvitig or decaying ? " Ur. P^iulton ukeil. 
"Improving," llr. St. Mautioe wid. with a louk of iueffable o 
" ' iproTin^ surely. On the vctgu, I eliuuld s-iy, of a complei 



nnoTatton.' 

"Sioking, decaying, tumblir 
flon exclaimed. "But it mui 
regenerated. EverythiDg has 
be put Qp ngain. We have 
Willt 



into utter niin and perdition," Mutei 
, fall into utter ruin iKlure it can b 
>ot to coniB doira before anytliiiig ct 
o posi through a t^rrililti onlcAt; than 
puriSed, disenthralled, and ruga ncrati-d, the true EnglaD* 



England of the fiituie." 

"What England wants," Piercy declared, " is true sdimtifio way 
ttunking. We want to get rid of superstitions : we wsnt to "Lake 
the grasp of the dead band in our literature and our tocinl life as 
«a in our charitable orgoniEBtiouR. Let us have TactH and face thi 
Above all things, gonUetnt-n, no dreams, as the Emperor Alexander 
Bussia said to the Polish de)iutation," 

"What England wants," Lady Deveril gently aigheil, "i« 
capacity to dream." 

" Whftt England wants," Father St. Mauriee murmured, " ia the 
peirading, all-quickening nense of teligioo," 

" What England wants," said Morse, " is the sympathy of class v 

" Yes," Koorili spoke out with courage, "little as I have seci 
England, t have sfen thai" 

" What England wnnta," Masterson declared, " is a social resolution. 
Sbe must clear out b<^ ariitucracy and her capituliats before she can 
even breatho." 

"Oh, but Euroly," Kenway said.lookin" to Lady Betty, "you would 
not bare an England without gentlemen'/" 

••Seem» to me," Mr. Paulton obiierved, "that England wants pretty 
well everything ; or that she wants nothing at all. But 1 guces there's 
■omething in what Mr. Muraa Rs-ys about the want of sympathy 
between class and olaas. And 1 think there's eomething in what thui 
gentleman rays, too," and he turned to Mr. St. Maurice. "You 
•a«ai to mo to want a new and fresh breath of religious thou; 
Your Htniuaphere Is a liUle stagnant in that way, so 



" We hiipe to quicken it," Mr. St. Maurice as-id w\t.tv Uia KioUa 



Lla^^l 



'^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 



;aaur«d I 



quiet radianca vliich becomea and beBiieaks the coDvioced 
"Our lirae is near tX. hand, Mr. raiilton." 

'■ Aod that time, sir, is 7 " 

"Tho time tif the Churcli," SU Maurioe said in a low and meaaured 

" May I iisk, sir, what Church ? " 

" There is only one Church," St. Maurice rapliod. 

" Rot 1 " Mr. Piercy grumbled below his breath. Then he said aloud, 
"I hope we are neiir the end of BUpersUtion in England. 'I'his un- 
/ortimate country has lieen groining for centuries enough umier tUn 
nightmare of suporstition ; it is time that the dawn came and alloved 
hot to wake and get up and do something." 

"Boes Boieoce to-day call faith superstition?" Koorlli asked 
jiluckily. 

Morse thought it prudent to interrcns here, and save her from the 
man of gcienoc. " I Irnvo often," he said, " wondrrtd whether it \t 
really possible for people to get to know the true and sjiecial chitrflot(t> 
isticsof the age and the society in which they live. What is tbt) lea" 
oharscteristic of London society at the present hour ? " 

"WhnI do you call London society?" Masteraon asked. 

" Exactly." Mr. Piercy struck in. " Wbut do you call it ? 
centre in Marlborough House ; or the Uouses of Pnrliament ; o 
British Museum ; or tha Hall of Science at the E«at End?" 

"Or the South Kensington Museum; or the Grosvenor Gialla; 
Lady Deveril Bu^gcsttd. 

"Ot ihe Eleusis Club ?" Laily Hefty said wilh a Bmile, 

" I give no opinion," Maarerson said. " 1 have nothing to do wiA , 
London xocioty. If you want (o know anything about the real life 
and manhood and womanhood of England, I might put you on the 
light Iracb. I know what are the cli^ex who will shape the dest iny ' 
of a better England liian ours — a true England. But what yoU a 
society is not worth five miuutes' serious htuily to any man whaW 
anything real to do in life." 

" I dou't think I seem ti> advance much in my mastery of the B 
■ocliil problem," Mr. Paidton observed, with a ijuint smile. 
don't B^era tu bo able to agree among yourselves even ■ 
London society is," 

" What do you call London society, dear Lady Betty ? " 

It was Lady Doveril who asked the question. Shu asked it «iftll;fi„ , 
the B]iiii( of one who dirsires infurmntion. Now, to Mr. Pnullon, foe ■ 
enaiQiile, or any other straiiger, iC would probably seem as if a Lady 
Deveril ousht to bo as much of an authority upon the oonslituenl 
eiements of London society as a Lady Betty Morse. But it was not 
BO, Lady Deveril whb the daughter of an English country gentleman. 
She had married n banker, who sat for years in the House of CommDo^ 
Bubsc'ibed lilwrally to his j'Brty, found many eligiltle candidatoB a 
much eleclion expenses for them, and was made a peer for his pntri<! 
iaiuura and sacrJHces. Id Lady Betty Morse's family, on tha u<ts 



from the 
acr it is 
laraottt' \ 

^lei^H 

do^rifl^ 
eal life 

on the 
icBt inr *| 
oa^MB 

9 



°jja| 



"ivhat do you call London sociETvr fm 

hat niother as weJI as of her TiihcT, pecragoa Iiegaa to Bet in niLlier 
before the daj-a of Oengist and Horaa. 

Eennaf looked towania his hostess with deforontia! interest. Ardcn 
glanced at Koorali. There wns nn odd smile od his fiu^, 

*'0h, well," I.ady Betty said, with a certain pretty miilure 
diffidence and conviction, " I suppose aociety means tbo people t' 
me meets and knows, don't you think ? " 

Even Ur. Piorcy was amused at the Ucndeil simplicity nnd scicntlU 
sccumcy of this dcSnitiun. Ladj Betty was perfectly correct. Society 
in the conventionnl sense of the word, meant just what she had snid-^ 
the people X^y Betty was in the habit of meeting, and knowini; ■ 
wdl as meeting. Poor Masterson audibly groaned. Morse felt it U 
although in a Afferent way. 

"I sometimes think," Morse said, "that we want a great DfltiolU 
misfortuno in this country to shake us oat of our sleek content^ 
indolenco, nnd to shake us into a common feeling of concern for e«L 
other ; to malie us English men and women, and not people of dlOereDt^ 
cUssos ond sets. We have been too prosperous— I mean nil of ua 
wbo are toleuhly well oU; and we cant be got to believe that ths 
vast inft|(itity of the English people are pour and ignorant aud un- 
happy." 

"Oh, Mr. Morse, yon are right," KoorilU said, cinapina; her hands. 
"Better any common calamity than such stagnation of the country's 
teaftl" 

"yoo Wftnt something like our gre.it civil war," Mr- Paiiltnn said. 
"That did us in the North a wonderful amount of good, fur the time 
•nyhow. It made us fotlow-oountryracn and patriots." 

" But wo are going to haveawar now, are wa not?" Lady Dover [1 
■eked, " Every one says wo are going to war," 

"The Jingixis are trying to have it thoir own way," MnatcraoB 
eiclunijed. " But they will have to reckon with the peojilo of Engli * 
flnt — let them moke up their minds to thai." 

"I only hope so," Motse said. "I hope the Eoglish people 
Imrist on being heard before it is too Inte." 

"I am glad to hear you talk like that, Horse," Masterson add, wit 
l^hting eyes, 

"lam glad to hear you talk tiko that, Mostirson," was the qul< 
iqjly of Mdrae. 

**I am glad lo hear you both," Koorili cald. Ilor husband looks 
Ribukingly at hor. 

" I» it true that your Court ia for this war ? " ratilton as! 

" I fcar it is true," Monw said. 

" Of couwe it is true I " Masterson esclaimed. " When 
any^lcvllry of Uie kind going on that our Court circles were not in 
ftronr of it ? " 

"Ob, come now, Mr. Mastofson," Lady Botty sniil earnestly, _ _ 
tUtik that BO very unfair of you. Our Court has ncvci' been mucK ii 
(tvouT of ivar, yon do know that; and never \u IswoMt rA 



^ui^B 



1 



"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

mw, uBTon I know that myself ; bat of courae thejsn 
to liRe lo see tho country trmnplBd on." 

"You hav6 hfuril wliat jour husband thinks of Koch a wu," 
Maaterson shU grimly. 

"My hualuind! oh yn, that's anotlier thing, wo don't ni'ind him. 
Of course he giies ia fur lieing k republican and all that. I Uke him to 
have his wn^, it becomes htm. It 1oo1(b nico, and picturesque in hiiii, 
and I won't hear a word s-oid n^oinat him; but still, you know, tbo 
Court must have «omo opinion of itg own." 

" You must ask people to-night at the Umvoree Club," Morse said. 

" Why there ? " Paulton asked. 

" Tlie Universe is our political pulacs of truth. Wo keep our ton- 
Tentional Btatementa — I shouldn't hke tn call them our lies — for For- 
liameiit ; but when we meet in the Universe we say exactly what wa 
think. We have one conscience ajid one code of truth for I'arlianuDt, 
and onothec^the scriptural oodo — lor tho Universe Club." 

Ardeu laughed a little sadly. 

"But I thought you Engltahmen alwava prided yoursolvea on your 
blunt truthfuIncEa?" snid I'aultan. 

" Not in Parliament,'' replied Morse. " No ; it wouldn't do therck 
There we go with, our party. You make a ajxtcch and do jour beat 
with it in support of some pnrticubr act of x>olicy ; you walk home 
irith one of your colleagues thai night, and you oud he agrco in 
denoimcing it." 

Kenway turned to his host. There wns aometliiug a little {luxtled 
in his espression. Re had not talked much, he had been observing; 
and with considerable Bupplcnesa Ma mind was trying to adjust itself 
ia the characteristics of the people he was with. Ue did not feel quite 
sure how to take I^lorae. A hit of conventional entire roae to bis lip^ 
aa the correct remark to make, but Lady Betty's voice checked it. 

" Sandham, my dear ! " ate remonstrated. " Mr, PaulUm, I hope 

?ou won't take my husband's fanciful exageeration as a stem reality, 
don't think he would aa; — well, the tiling that is not, to save the 
empire — or the life of his wife," 

"It is true, all the same," Moras maintained. "There is one con- 
icience for a mau's private life, and another lor the House of Commons. 
It used to Ehuck me a good deal 4t ilrat, but uuw 1 am getting uaod 
to it," 

" I hope and Itoliavo all men are truthful — all gentlemen, I mean," 
Lady Deveril asid plaintively, " Women are not, I know ; but then 
that's different — no one expectB them to be." 

"Well, we are wandering awa-y from the condition of society in 
London," Paulton said. " What now, Lady Betty, would you say 
the main characteristic of the London aociety of to^iay?" 

" DuUness 1 should say — decidedly, dullness ; but 1 don't know 

" I am sure you do your beat to brighten it," Lady Deveril 
posed. " J don t know how any sticicty could bo dull where you 



1 



"WHAT DO you CALL LONDON SOCIETY f 

" Aad what ihould you say, La<Jy De5<iil ? " the Araeriran Mmigtei 
Asked. He was evidently aaxiuus fur iDftirmBtion, and did ubt w 
the cor.TBTBation to stray. 

"I have been writing a novol," said Ididy Davpril dcniurely, "iirfl 
whicli 1 endeavour to show that the leading chamcteri^tiu ai the soc' 
life of our day is tho altered poBition aad fuuctions of wuinan." 

"Didn't know thoy had altered," growled tlie ninn of science. 

"Ah, now," said Ardoa, " we como to my fluljtut. I shnll have • 
great deal to say ahout tbat some day, 

" Say it now," said Lady Betty. 

" DiMi't you tliink," he returned, " that our talk lias been a I 
pidloaophical already — not to Bay dry ? " 

Mr. raultoQ objected. 

Kenway, -who would have preferred a Utile social froth, put il>|l 
" Have you heard Dr. Maria Lakeewell Tubbs, the American lady I 
doctor. Lady Betty ? She is giviDg discourses to her own sex on the 1 
fimctioDS of women. I am told that she carries about a ekeletou, and \ 
dangles it before her audience, while she esposea all their secrets." 

■'Bnt ImuBt know Dr. Maria LakeswellTubb9,"esclaimed LadyBetty, 

"Give B party. Lady Betty," suggested Ardon, "Aek Dr. Maritt I 
Iidkesweli Tubba to bring her skeleton. Bhe'ti make a sensatlo 

" She is at home on Mondays. Como with me next Monday," said 
lAdy Deveril. 

"J have a mothers' meeting," sighed I.ady Betty. 

"Take vour mothers," gruwlcd Mr, Pierty. " It's moat imp-rtant 
tliey sbould be made acquainted with thtdc internal economy — i^uit6 
-irorth a do:aen Iwo^uinea fees." , 

A two-E!uinea feel That's altogether a different matter," cried J 
I^y Deveril. " I'll back out. In these days of agricultural dcprai 
■1(0), and when the Primrose League is bo expensive, and publiAheta ^ 
.cnt down prices, one hasn't two guineas to 8p.ire. ' 

" The principal characteristic of eociety to-day — I assume that by K 
cTsBracteriatio you monn weakness or lauh?"— it was Father 8l | 
Maurie* spoke this, "ia luu njuch self-analyals, inducing and aourish* \ 
~aig scepticism." 

"The great defect of society," Piercy declared, "is the lack ci 
-Oonniee to carry analysis of self and all else deep enough." 

" The characteristic of society in England to-day," Morse said, ' 
Belf-COaBCiousncss." 

"'J'hechftrnoteristio of modern English society," Masterson affirmed 
"i> luxmy, effeminacy, debauchery. Society is corruption; aristoeriioj 
W nTeteness ; religious profession is cant." 

"I give it up," the American Minister said. "I shall not get f 
know what is the characteristic of London society ; my mind is m: ' 
Up. I will nut write a book on England." 

" Wait until you have been at the Dniverse," Morse suggested. 

*• Coixe to one of our deraoorntio mettings any Sunday in IIyd< 
nvk or JXifWraai Rift," Maatorson ndvis(M\. 



^ 



78 "7V/£ RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

"I triah .veil would attend one cf our servicea," Father St, Ms)^ 
gently urged, 

" Hnvo yoii nolLitig to aJrisc, Mr. Pieroy ? " t!ie MiniBtsr tu 

" 1 ? Oh dear, no ; nothing. I have to do with acience ; 
advise anything about society." 

"There, yon see!" Lady Botty oxclniined in a sprightly % 
" there is only ono man of real scientiliQ knowledge in this little J 
|iaDy, and be refuses %a give us any help from his enlighteonienU 
rhink it is of no use our trying to seek out the truth, any further." ■ 

She was glad to find an excuse for not prolonging the conversi ' 
She made her niyBtic sign to Lady Deveril, and the three I1 " 
the rooin. The others fuUnwcd almost immediately. It w 
house where the men lingered over their wine. This waa eom . . 
KenwAy's regret, for the claret was 'Ti Mouton. Uorse went bI. 
to EoorUi, and Kenway watched them while they were talking. j| 
had seldom of late seen his wife so bright and animated. She mtf 
altogether more human. Mr, Fio-rcy and Lord Arden hadjoinoi 
two. Once or twice, to Crichtoa'a surprise, he heard KoorUi gn 
ready reply to some remark of the man of science, who had also k4 
of homour. Kenway kept hia eyes nnd ears wall open, though hsfl 
assiduous in making himself agreeable to Lady Betty. The little pp 
broke up very soon. Morse was taking Mr. Paulton and Crichta 
the Universe Club. &lastcrson, who was a member of the club, wL 
go with them. Picrcy ivis returning home to study for a paper ou 
dissectiou of the water-cress leaf; and Lndy Betty was taking ^ 
Deveril and K<x>r!kli to the house of a facbiunable woman to hMT^ 
of Mr. Wldsiler'a " ten o'clock " lecturos. 



CHAPTER X. 

" ASD BO HALLO 1 " 

TsB rooms ot the Unlvorso Club, in one of the streets close lo Ber! . 
Square, were specially well filled this Sunday night. One of 
members of the club was going to take his position aa head of the 
embassy at the capital of the furciga State with which, according to all 
appearance, England was about to go to war. The former ambassador 
frijm the Court of Queen Tictoria had expressed a wish to change lo 
some other place. He was in favour of a peace policy, it waa said ; and 
the new man was understood to be ail for a policy of defiance. 60 
there was some interest felt in liis departure, and there was mudl 
speculation as to the speed of his coming back to London again. The 
whole thing waa discussed in rather a light and chaffing tone ; and iKtl 
were freely oll'ered that the new ambassador would not even be allowed 
the chance of sleeping one night in the capital to which he was bound. 

" Wouldn't unpack my things, if I were you, Wolmingt( ~ 
youthful member of the House of Lords said to him ; " won't be 



1 



"^AND SO— HALLO!'' 



,mr wbile, bet you anything yoii like. 8t«y, I M? ; licre's Mm 

he'll tell ua aomjethiD^. If he cno keep you there fae ivill. Lci' 
liiln trbat be n&d hU merry men, [ha Godicals, thick ibey can ( 
preveiit a Sglit now." 

Morse had come into l!ia rrxim with Ciichlon Econay, and bail liecil' 
introducing Kenwny to men here ami there, Kenwity was iusc 
an ecstacy of delight. Every name he heard nnmed was liiaC 
distinguislied or prominent man; more tlma once he beard a renlly 
faniDUB name. Every name he beard waa already famiiiar to him. Hs 
bad known all nbont the names and Iheir owners ia bis far uwav South 
Britain,i&nd it was a wonderful experience to him now to find himaelf 
ia company and in converse with ihe living men tbemiKjIvoB. It eon- 
firmed him in the ctidden idea which bad eume intu bia mind tbftt_ 
•veniog, tliat he would Ecbeme for an appoin'mont in England. 
now fell that he licver could, under any conditionB, endure a retu 
Booth Britain ; that he never could leave London ; that ha never i 
exut any inftre without society RUi:h »a iliat in which be bad lately 
moving. Men of all parties and sectionx, and men of do party at nil, 
belonged <o this club. Every foreigner of any distinction who camu to 
London was Bure to be brought to ihs club by some of its members. 
Eenway bad been a little doubtfiU in coming along to the club rooms 
whether Morse was really the best man to stick on to. But in itw 
eldb he looa made up his mind, 'Iheie was a great deal of talk about 
the coming elections, and every one teemed to assume that there would 
be a Liberal majority, wiih a strong liadical section in it and nt its 
front, and that MorMi must have bia chance of being I'rime Minii>tBr, 
Amid all the levity, and jestini:, and chaff, this earnest conviction 
made iM existence felt; and Konway resolved to butd on to Morse. 
UaaleiTon had been an the club, tooj but he did not stay long. Ha 
WM inclined to grow fierce now and then; he could nut stand the 
cfaafT. Ue knew ho rather bored people with bia one idea; and ' ^ 
could not put hie one idea aside even for a moment. Ue felt this hi 
«e]^ and was gradually withdrawing from nil society. So h 
away abrupily, after having spoken a. fow words to Morse apart. 

Corks were popping, soda was fizzing, cigars were thickening 
matches were sputtering all over the place. The drinking was very 
modeat; only a whiskey and sodii, or something of the kind. There 
were few pictures or curiositiea of any sort to look at. The Universe 
did not go in for that sort of thing. It went in for celcbritieit and con- 
nisation. Morse had called It not inaptly a Palace of Truth. So far 
ai Kenway could undorst.'iod, every one there said esactly what he 
thought. He was amazed to find how many men who sat on the 
Liberal benches and voted blind vclth the Liberal chiefs were rank 
Conservatives in their hearts and in the Universe Olub. Ha was 
iniprised to find soma leading members of the Carlton declaring that 
Qie time had gone by for the absurd old notions which might have 
suited the 4-iysof Lord Eldon, and that Lord Baniiolpb was quite ritcbt 
trtienjie went boldly in for a Tory Democracy, It, bewildered hira tfl 



I 



tba^" 
'b«3B 



the i: 



"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE! 



itical Eeld i^H 
■en to Irelanl ] 



diicover that almost everybody on 1»th udes of the political 

of opinion that lome sort ot Horats Rule ought to lie mven t( 

It amaaed bira atili more to benr tbe terms Id wiuoh bishops, arch- 
HBtopB, princes aveu, were talked of, now in ibis part of tbe njom sod 
now TO that. 

" la loyalty, then, only known in tbe colonies? " ho aaked of Morses 
ns they were going down thu Btaira. 

" Old-faahioned loyalty, personal loyalty, la, I suppose," Motm 
relied. " Some of us really like the institution of royally, and heliere 
in what Paul ton colls ' drcssed-np dununyism' as beet suited fur ths 
country ; otbers don't object to it ; others again don't think it would 
he worth tha trouble to try to make any change. But I don't beliere 
diere ia anybody who is really onthuaioatio and lyrical about it ; escept, 
perhaps, in the colonies. You see, you are so far off there. The thing 
iooks all brigbtneaa aiid poetry to you — like a star." The c')rapariBOB 
came into kia mind as they passed into the ijuite street, and be luuked 
up at tbe stars. 

MofGe stopped at tbe door, and bade Kenway good night. 

" I am not going home just yet," be said ; " 1 have to go to a place." 

The night was tine, and Morse walked for a while. He had a light 
coat thrown over Ida dress coat. Uifl tall figure and comraandintf 
presence made him conspicuous. Once or twice, as Kenway followed 
him nt a little distance through Berkeley Square and into Duver Street 
and Piccadilly, Bome one recognized Morse, and looked after him and 
mentioned hii nnine. 

As Kenway followed him ? Yes ; Kenway waa a man who d< 
loved to find out things about people. Ho bod a fixed idea that '■ 
waa something to bo found out about every man, if one only guve 
self to tbe task of dutectlon. lie was very curious to koowV 
man like Morse could bo guing at that late hour of the Sunday , 
It might be a good thing, bo thought, in tiny case to make some 
covery, if there were any to bo msde. No one could say when aucli 
koowledge might not come in usefully ; at all events, it would be wdl 
to know. Kenway smiled; almost chuckled — a somewbot mabgn 
chuckle. A good many conflicting feelings were at work within him 
that evening. He hod been obliged once or twice to leailjust lua 
mental attitude. Several things hod aurprised bim. It hud aurprisod 
htm that his wife should appear at ease, should even shine, in thi 
sodety of Moras and hia friends. Bo himself had felt a little out 
alL Though ha swelled with exultation at the thought of having ' 
t&ken up and introduced at tbe Universe by Morse, ho ws 
less galled by a consciousness of inferiority. Ho was glad 
UoTse admiced Koor^li. He meant to turn the fact to bis own adi 
U^e i yet, it irritated him too, and Koor^li's evident admiratic 
Morse made him jealous in a vague, pettish way. It was 1 ' ' 

bar husband, who should ho Konrili's hero — not any other 

would like to show her that Mor^o was not so far abov* the peccadi 
sf ordinary men. Morse, ho thought, always postured aa ~ 



^^nit 



'AND SO—HALLOf 



^ , rad Bodoufl sort (tf person. It would be good fun if he coiil 

God out flomolbing about Hnrse which would atitODidi KoorUi 
rhtince of doing this giive a fresh impulsa to Kcnway's sleulh-hi'in 
i&itioctA. 'I'he Boepiciou in his mjcd waa that Morse's midoigl _ 
mission would prove to bo of a disiiuclj Don-{iolitical chanuioiv 
Kenwaj was highly amuspd already; ha enjoyed the diacoTory ini 
BQlicipatioa. He always gloated over hints of scandal in high plaeeik! 
What he oouid not undoiaiand was, why Morse should walk. W ~ 
did he not get into a cab? Surely he must know that there nat 
IcAit a chnneo of people rcet>gDktDg him. But that is just the 
with men, Kenway said to himself philoaophically ; they ore a)wa; 
most incautious when tbeconditinn of things especi^ly calls forcautltn^ 

The reason why Morae walked was because the uight t 
Horse lored walking, eapecially at night. He was hardly 
A carriage; he rode or hi' walked. He did not ride much in the Itow^ 
ha -wait out to Hampstead Heath or to one of the commons on tl 
Bou&dde and had a hard gallop there; and he It»k long walkn nh< 
he eould. He Lved a wall; through the streets at night ; he lnved ttt' 
etudy the changed aspect of the great city, and to see fcmiliar bits of 
London made unfumliiar and poetic by moonlight or starlight, or hy 
mist and darkness. To him them was a fascination in the Tistaa of 
lights; in the Him outlines of the buildings; In the moving crowd-* 
eyes fiashing into his for an instant, auggosttng perhaps the tragedy 
tt a life; forms hurrying by and then lost in the dimnesB. Uo wm 
moved in a str.iDgo way by the contrasts in this " uuder-worli)," at it 
aeeined — of wealth and squalor, of vice and innocence, of gloum and' 
brightness, mysterious alleys, dark and sod ns hcli, leading from somr* 

Sy lesoit, uver which shone sikcry electric light that jiilglil hnvi 
Ml the roiiinncB of haivcn. 

He paused now for a second in an almost deserted street, struck \iy^ 
Ihs cDcct of a short avenue of red gas lamjis, converging to a point 
Irom which an indistinct shape and two brilliant sUriiig cyos — the 
bunpB of a hansom, cab— fiew towards Mm. As ho w.-ilked along he'' 
WBi not thinking of the fencing of dijilomatiats, of squabbles nbout a 
frontier, of the chitnces of a Liberal majority, of the probability thnC 
he VDuld be called upon to lead a Badicnl ministry, lie liked to h^' 
lifted out of the prosaic world of polities ibr a while, and ho diatiacUy 
held the podtioa that the night, even among streets, is always pof lid 
llist vein in Murne's nature which had poetry and mysticism '- '' 
•eemad <a fill and flow under the inSuencc of uight. 

So they cnmo, Morse and his follower, to Leicester SqU-iro. L 
tor Square on Sunday evening hod a very different look from 
iriiicb it wore on a week night. Three sides of it were in shadow. 
Only the north end, whore there were several restaurants and » 
Cbsmist's nhop, with big red and green lamps, gave any suggestion of 
It* tuntal flaring iUuminntion. The thcntres seemed strangely forlorn, 
and the Alhambro, with its dume-likc roof, its long dark windows, III 
faim front and fantastic decorations, had a tsA *x.\ ^iftU'] *.^^QM«ncc. 



1^ 



8) 



•^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 



I 

'° The 



Tbrrv wcrt but few people about; n hansoiD now and thm clattei 
to the iloor uf one of the rcataurante, nbero the homeless ettanger 
h»ve a Sunday diimor. Kcnway followed Morse to tliE o;«iuit; 
dim aod narrow street leading northward out of the square, 
street began in light and went on into were dartncEs. At the near 
corner was a brillisntlj lighted French realuurant, one glass side opm- 
ing on the «qaare. Opposite it, the houses were dark, and further m, 
at the some side as the reatnumnt, they were dark too. Except fiw 
two dim gai-lamps cotrly at the top of the street, all the light seemed 
concentrated here, and any one pasBing the iiluminnted windows could 
be seen as clearly as La dajliRht, 

Morse paused a moment, glanced quickly up the street, then croa!>cd 
over to the side in shadow. Ue -walked a little way along the pare- 
ment, turned, and crossed again. Betwocn the reataurant and the 
adjoining block was a small Sagged courtyard, enclosed by built^i^ 
except where it was fenced oIT from the road by an. iron niiiing. It 
was feebly lighted bj two round lamps facing each other, hung 01 
aboTeoneof which was ptunted "Concierge." The hotel itself 
back, a grey sunktu house, with an abutting sort of colonnade, 
mean entrauce door. The upper windows were dark, exce[it one, 
that was curtained by a thick white blind. The house was lower t 
its neighbours, nnd between the chimney-pots patches of grcy-j 
ehowed, and a thin moon waa just rising. It all looked dim, 
leiiouB, and suggestive of intrigup. Innumerable memories of Pi 
novels floated into Kcnway's mind. Morse eutercd the courtyard,: 
went into the hotel. Kenway had been watching from a t 

Ejint a little way up the street on the opposite side. When 
rtd gone in, Kcnway came down and hiid a look at the place, 
courtyard was deserted again. A Fi'oiich chambermaid iu a wliitoj 
with ttaufTrcd frills and stieiimera ran across, her salwts clackiDg^i' 
disappeared iijto tlio concierge's olHec Kenway skulked intoi' 
courtyard, lie thought he heard voices in the li);hied roc 
Once or twice he saw the thndow or a man cross Ihf? blind, 
almost have sworn that he caught a glimpse of Morse's 
profile. After a while there were no more shadows. Kenwft^ 
round. The place had an odd foreign look, strange 
London. Sickly shrubs in green boxes stood about. Thero 
old gun carriage in the centre of the court, with a beam of 
painted a dull Teoden blue, doing duty as cannon, but with a 
genuine balls formidably arranged below. "Just like „ ._ 
defences," Kenway snarled and chuckled to himself. " If we havtt^ 
guna, we haven't the bullets; if wo have the bullets, we haven^ 
euns. Things won't be much better under a Peace Society 
Minister, I fancy." It ri lieved him to Bay this, although only to 
■elf; and ho crussed tlie street again and kept pacing up and d( 
the look-out. 

It was slow work woitiug there that Sunday ntght; but K« 
waited. His sleuth-hound instincts were aided in their work 



^t 



*AND SO— HALLO!* 

tmtiriDg ns that of ths forest Indian wntchiog hU prey, 
cron pereljcd on some jammed-up log in a rivor bank, 
waiting for a 6sh to gire him & chance of a diunur. Occasionally »< 
woman tried to get into talk with Keaway as he pac«d iJowly up si 
flown; ha aoawered her with award or two of good-humoured ji'i 
And civilly Ehook her off. Now and then a poiicDtnnn eyed h> 
cttriouely, but soon, with s policeman's instinct, saw that Konway w 
wb«t is called a geotleinnn, and that there was nothing ia his cn^c 
haTfl interest for the "worthy mngiatrate " on Monday moniin 
Horn than once a half-drunhen wa^-f:irer stsgirered up and acci 
htm witli " Give UB a light, governor, won't youV" and K-enway.ali 
wilh the most i)erfect good humour and politeness, took out his sll< 
matchbox with its ingeniously-contorted monogrnm, and gave tl 
requested 6re. It wns not always ta much account, for more than 
Wiiyiarer found his legs too unsteady aod his pipe too capricious tc 
able to benefit by the Itindness of the " governor." Keawny wns q 
in his element, and liked the whole thing immensely. Ue was c 
viiiced that be was about to And something out. 

hX last be saw two men come out of the door of tho hotel. ' 
men passed across tho courtyard, and their figures Wfre clearly < 
Lined gainst tlie light ia the lower windows. Morse wa* one. IT. _ 
was nu mistaking; that figure and that walk. But who was tlio otber^ 
The two went down the street, on tho side opposite to that whenv 
Kenwajstood in shadow; tbeydid not look in his direction, but be 
could see them distinctly. Ue could hear their voices, aithiiugh be 
could not make out what they were saying. Now tlio light of a lamp 
bill straight and Toll un them, and Kenwny saw, to Ma disappointment 
at first, that tho other man was Masterson, No creature could be gut 
to assuciate the name of Mastersou with, any manner of amorous 
idTtnturc or any gambling-house transaction. His prc.iencn alone 
wuuld make scandal of that kind an impossibility. Had Kanway 
thrown all his time, his sleuth-hound instinct, hia patience, utterly 
away? 

No; another idea suddenly flashed upon bira. Why, this ia better 
still; the best that could be I That house is the bcod-^unrtcrs of some 
Ktoialist and democratic conspiracy, and Mor^ie has bei^n induced to 
take Borne part in it. Morse, the man who bopte to bo Prime Minister 
of England, comes down so low as to mis himself up with the mid- 
ni^ councils of a gang of socialist and cr>smopolitan revolutioniats. 
U must be BO, it cannot be anything else. Why, this is more iateresU 
ing than all the gaming transactions from Monaco to the Miasissipjn. 
Kenway went nearer to the house. There must be others there ; they 
mold oome out ; he would see wha.t manner of men tbey were. His 
patience was soon rewarded; the men began to come out in little knots 
of two and three. Most of them were of tho clasB of the regular 
London eocialtat; most were London working men. Even with 
Eenway's limited knowledge of such London life, be ooold rend tlieir 
class and their political creed jn their earnest, cftgec, wistful fani 



] 



Turn*" 



84 «J//£ RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

But there wore oLlicra, too; there wore foreign deniocrata, 1 _ 
rapidly, Boma in Frenoii, fotaa \a German, some in iLalinn. Two Ht 
tbree, nhu camo out i<j;;ethcr, conversed m a aoft-EOUQiiing toDgaS 
wbich wxfi unfjmjluLT lo Keawar. lie did not understand GermSD at 
Jtalian; but ha knew that this was GcrmaD and that Italian nbenhe 
heard it apuken. This iaugunge was entirely Etrnnge to him. Ue i«!t 
a special interest in the men who tpoke it, and he went their way. Ha 
kept up with them, he walking on the other side of t^e street. The; 
were going eastward; he miglit as well go eastward too, for a little wily. 

A new thought struck bim. Why not contrivo to interuliasga b 
word or two with them ? Ue took out his cigar-caac, nnd acted m - 
the hint given bim by his "guvemur" acquaintance!!. He crosswl the 
street, and asked if any of the gen tlomen could give him a light. TEiey 
all stopped very civilly, and one of tliem tendered to him a box of fuiecs. 
A few courteous words were DuturaUy exchanged ; two of the men at 
least spoke fluent and perfect Bngliah, wilh only a faint fureign accent 1 
the tlurd man said nothing; perhaps ha could not speak English, 
They were dressed in a way which suggested a cross between BtruggUnC 
artist and continental worklng-mau ; between the Latin Qu&rter and 
the Paulxiurg Siunt Autoine. Kenway had a keen eye, nnd it seemed 
to him that the garb was a get-up, that tbcy were not wearing their 
own clothes, ttiat they were socinlly of a better class than their out- 
ward appearance was meant to Buggest. The quiet, courteous, self- 
aaaured way in which they all atop;^ the moment he spoke to them 
satisfied him ihat they were, in Society's Language, " gentlemen." "I 
rather fancy I know a gentleman when I see him," Kenway mid to 
himself. Kenway uas always assuring himself ard convi'ying to 
others that he was a constituted Authority on all qucstiuna relating to 
ihi' co(l3))ositton, origin, and waya of a gentleman. 

Now, then, here 'a the problem. A secret meeting long nftor mid- 
night in an out-of-tiie-way quarter — for Itforso ; the meeting attended 
by Mast<!rsoD, the wild revuluiiunary socialist, who was always threat- 
ening that he and his men would descend into the streets; by sevor^ 
foreign democrats, for such they evidently were; and by three men, 
dressed as artisans, who were clearly not artisans, and who spoke a 
language Kenway had never hanrd before, while two of llicin could 
also speak fluent and cultured English. What was the kii<:'ingo the 
three spokeV Kenway was not long in jumping to a ciwlusion. 
Why, what should it be but the language of the country wii h which 
England was likely to go to war? And at the secret midnight council 
in which these men took part, in which Mosterson took part, iu whicli 
foreign revolutionaries took part, llie future Prime Miniitter of England 
viaa also taking purtl Come, that was something lo know, at AU 
events. There might, no duubt, be some highly satisractorv exptf"'^ 
tion i but the thing was curious. It was well to have found ont 
Kenway had found out. He went home well pleased — mora 
pleased, highly delighti-d, with his night's work. 

Now, what were Morse and Uattei'son sayitig as they passed 






■ndtiyiDg 



•'AND SO—HALLOl' 



a Ciichton Kmwuy wns standing in the siindow, tratchlng then 

a tiyiag to make out their worda? 

" I am afraid it is of no nae," ilursu said in a low tone ; " 
ne my way. I ani with your (llljel7t^) lo a curtain exteut; you knoiL 
that. 1 ara a republican on principle. I dim't dc»[ia\r of seeing ■ 
repulilJc established here, even in my time. I think our iieoiile coulg 
nurk a republic better tlian any other |ioo|ile in the world. 1 h(i|ie t( 
found a republican party, open and avowed, if oidy t - - ■ - - 
school. But you cnc't force the thing in Euglimd." 

"That is the way of all you BO-ciUed i>raclica! men. 
saidangiily. "Yuu see nothing; you foresee nothing. The revtJl^ 
timiisat yovir gates— liarnmering at your gates, and you are dci ' 

U Vliere th.it to-morrow must bo just the same as to-day." _ 

"I don't. J want to prepare for a lo-morrow. An accident might 
bring the whole thing to a sDiofb. A lug defeat in «ume war "—Morse 
spoke now with measured emphnsis — " which was believed to lie 
faroured by the Court, one big defeat, might up'et the dynasty. The 
English people have not been tried in that sin't of furniu-e yet. Perbnm 
tluj would be found nut a whit more ratienC tb.in the French. We 
may see that tested ; porlinns, AfCer ulli I am tlie l«Ht friend of the 
dynasty, I think," he added, wilh a smile, "for 1 am doing my very 
^est to jreveat the teat from being appUed." 

"WBl y(ni even join with us to stop the succession at the end fl 
this reign ? We have our plans and our resources. 'I'he country wl) 
bav« bad enough of royalty by that time; sane men won't be inclined 
to give it a fresh lease under worse condition!*.*' 

Uo[se shook his head. They wltb now walking along the dnrkiiV 
Hide of Piccadilly, and hod got to the railmgs of the Green Pork a '^ 
the deep aluidow of the trees. 

" To speak openly, Masterson, T doubt the plans, and I don't believe^ 
in the rvsourcra. Uiit I don'i niinil telling yuu that if I wore alive at 
the end of the present rci^n, an^l I s:iw any gcnoine and wide-spread 
deaire on the part of the English puople not to start a new reign, I 
dimild— WL-ll " 

"Give ihosul^Gect your best coasideration, I dare say," Masterson 
interpoaeil scornfully. " That is your miuiaterial way of putting ihinga 
la Fsiliament, Lin't tt?" 

"No," said Morse, composedly ; " I should go with that deaire. and 
do my best to carry It out, lot the ecid land me whore it would. ThaC^ 
■11 1 have to say." 

" Well," Masterson said, after n. long ])aiiso, " that, is hotter tl 
notiiing; especially from you \viio niQan all you say, and ' 

yon do not go with ub, iu tho nicanMino?" 

"No; positively not. You are all in the clouds, and I am only able 
to walk the Snn earth." 

"Then wlint do you think of our general purposes ; our broader and 

"^ fiOBOprubensLve purposes; our purposes for oil humaDlty; not fu" 



_lL 



4 



r 



86 <*THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

Uorae turned to MaetersOn nith a look of somelhirg libo cmti\.. 
Then he siud — " Your cosmopolitanism ? I don't like the lliiag 
And I tell you frAiiklj-, MaEtersoa, I couldn't bftvo anything to d. 
It I don't believe one bit in mix ing up our afTnirs with those of^ 
oonSnenlnl democrats. Their nims are rot ours; their ways an' 
ours. We want rofonn, and \\\ey uuderstand nothing hut revolt 
and eocial revolution, too " 

" So do I," MnBterson broke in. " I want social revolution 
words, I want the salvation of England. Nothing but socio! 

"Yes; hut your social revolution is rot their social revolution, 
yon see? You can't long work together. Beaiies, look here, I 
like these three gentlemanlike fellows at all. I do not trust ' 
For Qod's sake, Masterson, don't you trust in them I Do you 
boUeve thnt these men, w!io belong to the country which five i 
eveg' six Englishmen declare to be our unrelenting enemy, can 
the mtereat of England at heart ? " 

"Not the interest of England,'' Mastersim said sharply, "You 
understand, Morse; yon won't understand. They have the interest 
humanity at heart; tha interest of the farotherhi«id of both ooimtries, 
and of all countries. Good heavens I is it possible you don't see that 
there is some stronger and noUet bond than the more chance bond of 
nationality ? It U strange that a man like you should bo cruelly mis- 
understand men like them." 

" Will you bear to bo told what I think of them ? " Morse ai^ked, 
and ho stopped short and put Ma hand peutlyon Maatersnii's shouldw. 
" Dear old friend, will you 1« oflended with me if 1 till you what I 
siupect — for your own anke ? " 

"Say anything you like, Moras; I can stand it from you." 

" Well, then, I strongly suspect that these men are tha secret agoats 
of that Govemmoiit which they protcsa to detest; the Government of 
thar own coimtry." 

"Oh!" Maatoraon drew away with a cry and a look of utter disgun-|. 
"I am horrilied, Morsel Such a suspicion, so unworthy nf you! 
These true-hearted, devuted men 1 You must see more of them. You 
must learn to know them," 

"No, old man; I don't want to see them again. I only wish I could 
get you not to see them ngiin." 

Masterson shook his head impaHently. 

" Well, 1 know it isn't easy to turn you from any opinion or any 
purpose ; and I can only say I ara sorry I conldn't have anything tu 
do with the business, Masterson. Nothing good will como of it; nothing 
but harm. I would aava my dear old friend from it if I could, but I 
can't; and so— hallol" 

"So what?" Masterson asked in wonder, at what seemed to him 
UGQseaning levity. 

" I beg yotir imrdon," Morse stiid, with a smile. " It's n trick I 
/rom HiehttT, Jean Paul, you knuw— a way ho has of patting 



■jH 






■n 



CSAn-BB XI. _ 



88 '^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." ■ 

wu a long off from thu joungcr brnncheB. There were n good tnnqr^ 

grodatianB of lords b; courtesy, anil hoDouraUcs, before he could ba 
got at Still, there ha wnft, nn undoubteil fact. lie n-at a Catholio; 
and this sectioD of Uie Nevile-Beauchamiis io which IheKenwayBwera 
merged had in it n atrong Catholic element. Mrs. Kenway, eeuior, lind 
been one of many brothers and sisters. The women, it waa curioui 
to observe, were more essentially KeTile-Beauchauiin than the meL. 
These had married and brought in collateral relationa, so that il »» 
no wonder if Kouritlt did not at once get to the bottom of the fuiu^. 
Some of them bod married Protestants, with country estates and lit 
lifingB, and bad maile a compromiEe in the matter of religion; but 
they had nevertheless kept some of the exclusiveneBS and nairow 
culture which belongs to the English Catholic by birth. Ko member | 
was supposed to take any important step in life except for gensntl I 
family interests and with the full concurrence of the family. This \ 
having lieen obtained, the case admitted of no further question. Ttie J 
Kevile-Beauchainpa had a constitution of their own, and new laws 
could be passed, or old ones amended, by a majority. To make an 
imdignifieii oomiariaon, "We and the World" might have been chosen 
M their motto, as in the case of a certain hen in one of Hans Andersen's 
stories. No ph^ans could have been more compact, no circle rounder. 
EoorMi had not yet been mude a part of the pbalans or admitted into 
the circle. The Nevile-Beauchainps discouraged alliances outside the 
county families. They iboup;ht that Crichton would have done weii 
to wait, and choose a wife io England. He might become arising man 
when he ceased to be AgentrGetieral. The colonies they considered 
rather vulgar. They discovered that Koorili had been married without 
settlements. A woman with a father who had not insisted upoD 
settlements must certainly be incapable of appreciating the seiiuua 
respoc si bill ties of life. It was within the bounds of possibility that 
■he and her buys might fall a burden on the family. The family, 
therefore, had better be wary in its advances. A woman who had a 
way of sitting absolutely silent when Conservative politics were being 
discussed must be an idiot. The Nevile-Beauchampa were Tories iS 
the rabidly i>eraonal kind. 1'bey had no scruples m declaring that 
Mr. Gladstoua ought to be hani-ed, that Mr. Chamberlain deserved 
quartering as well, and that notliitig short of burning at the staka 
was adequate punishment fur the Home Bulers. EuotMi sometimes 
in her dreamy way fancied that there might bo a case on the other 
side. But that was her odd fashion ; she saw two sidus to every 

A woman who never looked into the Almanack de Gotba or the 
Peerage, who did not warm into enthu«insm over the domestic virtue* 
of the sovereign, who had no notion of working in crewels or painting 
on china, who cared nothing about the class distinction between upper 
and lower servants, between townsfolk and county people ; to whom 
church preferment, tenants' rights, kettlednmis, game laws, sodal 
precedence, and Debrctt, were all dark mysteries ; such a woman idli^H 



surely hide toneath a gentle eiterior sometting (Ungaiwie uid a&Ugo- 
Butie to all thai, wa« most holy and orthodox. 

ITiiia it was that at first Koorlti had been welcomed rather tent^ 
titvW i and U was not till the hiide, Mn. Eustace Kecwny, nppcor 
on IM scene that a aedra of dinoer-parties wore orgfini/«l. At t^ 
•eeond of these — Mrs. EuBtoce characteriBlically refuaed the first — t 
twn sietcn-iD-liLw met. This happened on the night of thiit very di 
□n which Morse had called at the CrlchtoD Kenvajs'. KooriUi « 
drettDing. She seerned to wake up with a curious, shy siuile, wh 
any one apoke to her. She scarcely knew most of the people preseofl 
■nd sliraiilt from the gaze of twenty pairs of clear Bricish eyes. " 
^t a nervous dread of saying the wrong Ihing. Shehnd been tut( 
fend fcfTgol her lesson. At last slis ( ook refuge in abstractedness. 
■lie liad an under- consciousness that Crichlon was watching her, 
WBB vexed because she did not nuke a more startling impressit 
Eoor&li wished a little bitterly that she had been born large and ii 

E'ug, Ibat she bad great blue eyes, ciassive shouldeis, and withes 
hair, like the biggest of the laily cousins prracnt. The Nevil 
Beauchsmpa were mostly large. Eren those with little flesh 
height, and nothing about them suggestive of the aGrinl or the in 
lulive:. There wore four ounta, three of them freshly arrived fr 
country estates, to whom, while ihe guests were assembling, K< 
(ras solemDly introduced. They were all well preserved, well drc 
thdr lace Flemish of flan quality doing duty for fashion of cut __ 
sleeve and bodice ; they all hnd bright, hard, observant eyes, thin 
praotical lips, and mellow dogmatic voices. One knows the type. It 
IB provincial, even when it has a town house aud is mated with a 
hoTODet and a rent-roll. Lady Canteloupe owned a bucolic-looking 
fatlsband, from whom — it was her glory to declare — she hnd never, 
since their union, been scp.irated for a single night. This had been the 
boast of her two predecessors. It was a family tioditioiL Miss 
Kevile-Beauchamp when she married took it upon her shoulders. 
Lady Canteloupe had once had congestion of the lungs, and a physician 
bad advised a winter in the South. Could Sir John he torn irom his 
ahorthoms? No. The Can teloupes never wont abroad. The Cante- 
loupe ladies died at home. Lady Canteloupe was true to her adopted 
bBditicsis; hut she got better. 

Annl EccloBworth was more buxom, but not less severe. There 
% biiit suggestion of the fox-hunting clement aboo t her. Perhaps 
had caught it from her husband, who was an M.F.II., and her 
daughters good cross-country ridera, healthy, vigorous damsels, ^ 
&o nonsense about them. 

AtWl Le Morchant was great apparently at agricultiu'e, and was dis- 
eOBalng siloes with a benevolent elderly Hr. Ij^evile-Scauchomp when 
KoorlUi made her little obeisance. 

"lira, Crichton Kenway! It's Mrs. Eustace who has the morujy, 
and you are the Australian. Yes ; I went to see poor Louisa this 
moon, and she c\pl»ined it to me as well as she could, poor dear. 



1 



«7-//£ RIGHT HONOURABLE." 



jeal Goldms 



discover that almoat evarybody on both aides of the political G 
of opiDiOQ that some sort of Home Bule ought to !« given to Iretsoil 
It amazed him Btill more to hear the terms io wLich bisliopn, oroh- 
biabops, princcii even, irere talked of, nuw io thia part of the ruom and 

" Ib loyalty, then, only hnown in the colooiea ? " ho asked of Mora^ 
na they were going duwii the stairs. 

" OM-fashioQed loynlty, personal loyalty, is, I auppoSR," Mora* 
replied. " Some of iis really Uko the iuEtitiition of royalty, and lieliero 
in what Paulton calls 'dreased-up dummyiam' as beet jioited for tha 
country ; others doo't object to it ; others again don't think it would 
be north the trouble to try to make any change. But I don't believa 
there is anybody who ia renlly enthusiastic and lyrical about it ; except, 
perhaps, in the colonies. You see, you are so far off there. The thing 
looks all brightness and poetry to yuu — like n star." I'ho c'lmparison 
came into his mind as they passed into the quite street, and he luoked 

MorsD stopped at the door, and bade Kennny good night. 

"I am not going home just yet," ho sjiid; "i have to gn toa place." 

The night was hue, and Morse iralked for a while. He had a light 
coat thrown over hia drtss coat. His tall fi!>ure nnd commandiiia 
presence made bim conspicuous. Once or twii 
him at a little distance through Berkeley Square and into D>'Ver Bt 
and Piccadilly, some one recognized Morse, and looked after him 
mentioned hia name. 

Aa Kenway followed bim ? Toa ; Kenwoy was a man who di ^ 
loved to lind out things about people. Ue had a fixed idea that Ibflra 
was something to be found out ahout every man, if one only g'lve bim- 
self to the task of dulectlon. Lie was very curious to koow where a 
man like Morse could be going at that kte hour of the Sunday nighL 
It might be a good thing, ho thought, in any case to make some dis- 
coreiy, if there were any to be made. No one could say when Buch 
knowledge might not come in usefully ; at all events, it would bo well 
to know. Kenway smiled; almost chuckled — a somewhat malign 
chuckle. A good many conflicting feelings were at work witliia hun. 
that evening. He had been obliged once or twice to readjust his 
mental attitude. Several things bad surprised him. It had surprised 
him that bis wife should ^pear at ease, should even shine, in the 
society of Morse and bis friends. He himself had felt a little out 
EitL Though he swelled with exultation at the thoughtof having ' 
taken up and introduced at the Universe by Morse, he was r 
less galled by a consciousness of inferiority. He wna glad to 
Morse admired Koortili. Ue meant to turn Iho fact to his own adi 
tage ; yet, it irritated him too, and Koor^li's evident admi 
Morse made him jealous in a vague, pettish way. It was hi 
her husband, who should lie Eour&li's hero — not any other 
would like to show hor that Morse was not so far above the pcecadilloM 
of {binary meB. Morse, ho thought, always postured as -'-^— 



lowe4^ 
itr^A 




•^AND SO— HALLO!" 84 

. % sort of person. It would be good Am if ho coiiW 

pfiod out Bomethm^ about Unrsa irhJch would natoiiiah Koor&li. The 
chance of doing thU ^ve a frei^ii impulse to Kcnwa^'a alcuth-hDUDd 
inttincts. I'he euspician in his luind was that Morse's midnight 
inis^on would prove to be of a diBliocly non-poUllciil charnular. 
Kenwaf w&a highly auiuapd Already; he enjoyed the discovery iu 
anticipation. He always gloated over hints of scandal in high pliiccs. 
What he could cot understimd was, why Morse should walk. Why 
did he not get icto a cab? Surely he must know that there wu at 
kMt a cbnnce of peoiilo reco^ndziog bim. But that is just the way 
with tDeu, Kcnway said to bioiseif philosophically; they are always 
most incaatjoua when tho oonditinn of things especially calls for caution. 

The reason why Morse walked Wfts because the night w.ia line and 
Horse loved walking, especially at n ight. He was hardly ever seen ' * 
a earrUge ; he rode or ha walked. Be did not ride much in tho Hoi 
bs went out to Uampstead Heath or to one of the commons on t 
Boutii Eode and bad a hard gallop there ; and he took long walks whi _ 
he could. He loved a walk through the streets at night; he lovad to 
study the changed ftEpcct of the great city, and to eee familiar hits of 
London made unfamiliar and poetic by moonlight or etarlight, or by 
mist and darkness. To him there was a fascination tn tho vistAs uf 
lights; in the dim outlines of the buildings; in the moving crowd- 
eyes flashing into his for an instAUt, su^cating perha])s the trt^edy 
(^ a life ; forms hurrying by and tbcn lost in the dimness. Ho was 
moved in a strange way by tho contrasts in tbis " under-world," as it 
■eeroed — of wealtb and squalor, of vice and innocence, of {;1oud) anil 
brJBhtness, mysterious alleys, dark and sad as hell, leading from some 
gay resoit, over which shone silvery electric light tbat niigbt have 
tiMn the radiance of he-ivco. 

He paused now for a second in na almost deiicrtod street, struck by 
llifl eflect of a short avrnue of red gas lamps, converging to a jioiiit 
from which nn indistinct shape and two brilliiiut staring eyes — tlie 
btmpg of a hanaom cab— flew towards him. As ho wnlked along lie 
was not thioking of the fencing of diplomatists, of squabbles obout i> 
ftonticr, of the chances of a Liberal nmjority, of the probability thst 
he would be called upon to lead a Radical ministry, lie liked to \n 
lifted out of the prosaic world of politics for a while, and he distinctly 
held the position that the night, even among streets, is always poetic 
^lat vein in Morse's nature which had poetry and mysticism '" '• 
Mcnud to fill and flow under tha infl ucnco of uight. 

So they came, Morse and his follower, to Leicester Square. Leici 
ter Square on Sunday evening had a very different look from thi 
which it wore on a week night, Tiiree sides of it were in shador 
Oiily the north end, where thcro were several restaurants and a 
chemist's shop, with big red and green lamps, gave any suggestion of 
ita usual flaring illuminstion. The theatres seemed strangely forlomi 
and this Alhambra, with ita dumc-like roof, its long d.trk windows, ' 
(■Is front and fnniaatic docoretiona, had n sad and ^osUy ag^carani 



h^^H 
Ito^ 



eice^^H 
th^^H 

id a 
jnof 
■lorn, 



'THS 



IBSBSWSBgmP 



him liun7. I like bi go tbroiigh life quick — d-double trot. He don'd 
I'm niwiiys tvuAy before him. Ain't I, Jo?" 

Sho ii|>|H.'aled, as slie shook harnls with her hosless, to adarkprettT gL 
fuUoniiig behind.dresBeil very quietly in Llack, who answered meeU;— 
" Yes, Zen ; you are always remly." 

Tha bi-utlicrB Raid, " tlow do you do ? " as tincmotioiially ai though . 
ihcy hod only been parted a dor.ea booni. Eustace did not louk u 
though he oould be emotional. He waa tathet after Crichton'8 p»tt«n 
only not ho lall, and without hia long neck. lie was mote ffiUi~~ 
up and neutraHooking. Ho wore an eyo-glasa. Ilia clothes, or at 

thing about him, gave one the impression tlxat he liad lived a g 

deal in Paris. By the time bo had luado his new sister's acquaintance 
the mirra to dinner began. Admiral Nevile-Beauchnmp led the wbj 
with Koor\li, and, as a compromise, Eustace Kenway brought up the 
rear with Urs. Kitty. 

" I met a friend of yours the other night, at Lady Betty Morsel 
[larty, Mrs, Eastace," aiid Criclitoin Kenway across the table lo his 
MBler-in-law. " Lord Arden, I mean." 
Mrs, Eustace had just answered the Klaatcr of Foxhounds' queaUun 

whether she liked hunting with the declaration 

" It's the only b-blooming thing 1 can do." She nauaed a moment, 
and thoro wis an othi little change in her voice, as she said, " I don't 
know Lord Arden well. 1 pliouldn't say he was a friend of mine. I 
mot him in Uome, ever so long ago. My mother took me to Bi 
Sho BWd it would improve my mini. 1 did my Peter's and my V 
cnu, but it didn't im[irove me, not orb little bit." 

" Now, really ! " drawled Mr. Nevile-Beauohamp, who was all 
iittlo behind the conversation, "limiting the only thing you can" 
But ihers U something else, Mrs. Eustace? You know how 

"Yea," returned Mrs. Euslace imperturbably — "and I know hoiv 
alang the people I don't like. 1 picked it up from the boys. There 
was an old niau living next ua, with sLt boys and not ' '' — 

house. I lenrnei! a great di'al from them. Ask Jo.'' 

" Who is Jo ? " asked Admiral Nevile-BwiuchaiBp, who was 
enjoying liimaelf hetwoon the two Mrs. Kenwayu. ilu found K( 
interesting, arvd Mrs. Eustace decideiUy amusing. 

" Sho is the young lady 1 brought with me. Ilcr name is Josephine. 
Ym^d call her Miss Garling, though Fhe is a relation of yours. I found 
her in a jKnii'on. She's an orphan, don't you know, ner mother was 
a Nevile-Beauchamp. You'd all like to suppress her — oh yes, I knoa 
don't tell niol You'd liko lo BujiprcsB ni#~but you can't, Adm' 
Kevile-Beauclinmp — not much] isn't there any way of shorten 
your name ? It's a name and a-haif now." 

" You might call me Ahraham. That's what I wl 

dcn't know that ii'a murh betier, I don't want to suppress yon, ll 
Eustace. On the contrary, I'll give you every opportunity to dai' 
like a Jack-in-lbc-box, and asionish us all. We are a dull set." 



T'hera 




^^^^MwK35fe^S*ffle 



a 



"Well— T Bhonld think you were— just a UtUe," Klumnl Mr». 
Eustace, imprutially surveyln;? the tible, *' »ome of you. I expect I 
tfaftU astonish you. My mutber fays I astouiah every one. She Mya 
my mannerH are drendfuL I tell her it's her fault. She should have 
blown mo up. And she didn'L Nobody ever diil." 

" It isn't likely that any ona wiil be^in to repriuiatid you now, Urs. 
Kustacc," ^llautly pnt in old Mr. licvile-Beaudiamp. 

" Well, It's nice of you to say that," returned Mra. Euttacfk, " You 
were better up to time then. And now I'm going to talk to yoo a Ut. 
Do you like dogs? If you do, you must come and etay with me, anil 
ni Bhow you my street of kennela. IVe got twenty-eight at " 
I'riory-by- the- Wa ler." 

Admiral Korile-Beauchamp turaoi to Koorili. 

*'So you've met Arden. He's coniing in to-night. 
ffliow, but not so queer as his father. Lord Forrest. Aiden gets tliL^ 
on the brain. He has temperance and virtue on the btsin jiat now, 
I knew hlui fa the South Seas, when I was commodore out there. 
He had PaciBc-lsleomania then. l>o you know what that is, Mrs. 
Crichton?" 

" Yes," said KoorillL " In Ausfmlia my sitting-room was bung with 
tnpa, and my boys had a Kanaka for a nurse." 

" It's fatiiL white it last*, Pacific-Jsleomania. If you want any more 
fepa, I'll give yi)u eomu to set a new fashion, or to wear at a fancy 
hulL I fijund Arden blossomed into a represeotatiTo of her Majesty — 
what would that old Jacobite his father have said? — with a seal ns big 
as this plate, and power to make treBtie» with native princes, ubioh 
the GoveramcDt here at home waa bound to ratify." 

"Did he drpoBu any roigaing Bovercigns or aanej: any tcrrilory?" 
asked Koor^li. 

"No; happily for Lord Derby. He rummaged about the iElaiuU, 
trying to convert the white reproliateB to morality. There's a while 
man on every islnnd, Mrs. Crichton. I don't know how they got there, 
but thero they are — and the scum of Ihe earfh into the harsiin. i'ifBt, 
the scum of l':ngLind goes to Botany Bay. Eicuse me, if 1 hurt your 
feelings. The scum of Botany Bay goes to Fiji. The scum of Fiji 
goes to Samoa; and from Samoa floats to the islands. It's a long 

"I'll tell you what's a long process ["exclaimed Mrs. Eustace, "and 
that is dinner on a fast day. I'm a CathulLc, Mrs. Crichton, and I was 
at a party last iii;;ht, and forgot to aat my supper befuro twelve o'clock. 
I hope you'll give us Eomo supper after twelve to-night, AdmiraL 1 
like good things to eat." 

The sign wuk given, and the ladies departed. It was Mra Nevili^ 
Iteaudiiuup's reception night, and the rnoms suon began to fill, so tli;it 
KaorUi and Zenobfa were not long left to the tender mercies of the 
women of the family. Though the party was supposed to be smn!! and 
nady, it was in reality very crowded, and Koorili was allowed to sit 
itJveJf uimo^oed. ThiB would liava annnyed Oiichlon, Lad b* 




J 



been nwora of it, lint he did not at first perceive her, and was studying 
the oom|HiD7 on Lis own account, 

Mn. Nevile-Ucaucbamp's parties were amusing, and if her ceiebali«i 
were for the must jinrt uf the secoiulnnd third rate order, some of them 
at all BTents were in the theHtrical and RrtiBtio ael. I'oliticiana uid 
diplomatists did not erne to Mr&. NevUe-Beauchamp'B house, nor was 
it tho resort of the friFolous "acnart" set. 'JTie court flavour was 
distinctly wanting. Some actors nnd actresses, however, who were in 
society, might be found there; some poets and pninters of ihe noiuetti 
school ; composers and drawing-room aingers and reciters, who gave 
their performances p^tis, and weco not herded like goats among sheep, 
but chattered in broken French aad Italian, and gave a sort of life to 
the entertainment. Crichton Eenway, not yet very well versed in the 
intricacies of London society, waTidared about imUting observations. 
Comparing this assemblage w^th that at Lady Betty Morse's house, ha 
came to the conclusion that though it was hia Gsed intention to shine 
in Uie highest B[ihcre, this one waa on the whole more enjoyable, and 
not to be despised, seiung that it offered facilities Tor gaining ihe ear of 
society journalists, foe securing odinission to studios and private views, 
and perhaps getting a glimpse at an artist's pretty model now and 
[hen ; l)criinps receiving an invitation for EuorMi to sit for her portrait 
10 a Royal Academician. He bad learned that there was ooo present. 

Miss Jo had communicated ihe fact. He found that, in spite of her 
demure look and recent residence in a foreign pension, to say nothing of 
her being one of the family, she waa a very well-iuforraed young lady 
as to tho ins and outs of London life. She knew who every one was, 
and commented upon each in a ijuiet little voice. 

"They ore nearly all Buhemians here," she sa'd; but (hey are nil 
awfully preper Buhi'minns, ITiey are very particular. Bonie of ihem 
get married twice over, to make sure. Mrs. Nevile>Qeaiichamp ivouldn'l 
have any that weren't strictly proper, I thiuk some of the inipropor 
ones are more interestinj:, don't you?" 

Kenway assentdi with a nmn-of-the-worll air; but he thought to 
himself that he would set Lady Canteloupo on Jo, for she was hardly & 
credit to the family. 

"Like the people in 'Claim,'" continued the young lady, naming a 
novel which was not oonaiJercd food for bribes and suckhngs. " There's 
the man who wrote ' Claire." He's like his books, ihere'a a bad taste 
about him, but I ihink he's perfectly splendid. He's mashed on Mrs. 
Melville, the actress — ^who makes you laugh so in ' Harefaced '—don't 
you know ? She doesn't make you laugh much off the stage ; she is 
rather stupid. A great many of them arc. Now we must %\.ap, I 
suppose, because Gallup is going to fool for a bil." 

When Mr. Gallup, the comio Blager, had " Rroled fnr a bit," as Misa 
Jo and her patroness Zen expressed, it, anothei comedian stood Up, ai 
after mnkiiig a few faces, made a speech. 

" Ladies and gentlemen," he said, " I ate .. ^ _. 

stage, aud retreat by the wingii to this sort of sound," and he (i 




THE FAMILY DINNER. 

^^^a\ his liiinds. "I doa't eee any niogs, nail I doti'l boar 
cla|>p'mg, BO I ahall Bit down a^io." 

Every one oppkuded tiiis ta beiiiR pslrpmdy w'lttj-. 

Altern'Ords, an a^Blhatio youag liidy, ia a red t'owa wilh a sno]] 

Silayed the zither. People licgHU to muvQ about more, and Gricbt 
asl Uisa Jo. Thcni was notbiag fur him lo do hut listen to Ibe acn 
of conversation, wbick were priiiciputlj of the nrlistic shop ktl 
CricbloQ felt raihor out of it, but decided tbit ho viva quita aupsrii 
this kind of compnnj^. 

He heard a wild-JooMng Indy remarking plaintively, " Oh, I'm n 
at home on Saturday afternoons, I'to always hunting aficr eugagein 
at matinees.'' 

A little further on, a young mnn who looked hariilj equal to 
eieitiou of carrying liia opera hat, was delivering himself of _ 
RIAtenienta, " Wull, Zoia is out of f ishion now; he iu quite Fhiliatl. 
and behind the time. Our school is iuGuitely more realistic thsn ZoL 
We would show life as it is, if only wb could get our viorks published/ , 
While anolher young num remarked iiioiirn fully, " Publifihera want 
suppressing." 

"And mioagcrs," put ia a third gentleman, whom Orlchton iaferrod 
to he a writer of phys. 

Ura. Eustace meanwhile bad sought her dster-ln-law, to whi 
had in her impulsive way taken a &ncy. 

"ImcantOcomoand have lunch witii you one day," she said abrupl 
" I shall be Tcry gind," answered KooAli shyly. " What day 
ycni come 'I " She took courage, and Bpote more eagerly. 

"1 wonder if you'll tumble to me,' continued Mrs, Eustace roSeo- 
ti»e!y. There was something wilful in hor eyes aa she looked into 
KoorUi's face. 8be began drawing on one of her long French gloves. 
" Oh, I hate putting my fat pads in to coveringa I '' she cxeLiimed inter- 
jeotionotty. "I don't expect you'll like me; Eustace's people don't. 
Eustaco thinks I have very bnd mnnncrii, on'y he ia too pilito to say 
■o. Is your husband polite '? " 

" I suppose BO," faltered KoorMi, etnrtlod by the abruptness of tho 
queBtioii. 

*' I never saw him before to-nigli t, you know. I don't know wbetl 
I want lo see bim 0"aia to-morrow, 1 wunt to see you though. 
Iiaa nn appointment, hadn't ho?" 

"He fa Agent-General for South Britain," replied KoorSU. 
"It tnkeaalot of cleverness to get an appointment like that, don't 
it ? He lo<>k9 as if bo know that, I sny I — he doesn't want to let one 
know tlmt be thinks no end of himself, but he does, all the same. He's 
f!ot his eye on us now. 1 shouM just sny be was weighing us in a pair 
of scales, shouldn't you? You've got the b-beauty, you know, nnd the 
— Iha rest of it — manners, and all that— and I'vo got the shekels." 

" Oh I " excMmed KoorMi, drawn from her reserve by this ohildlika 
franlcnesH, " I wish it were m. I don't always know what to say. I'D* 
IK) ahy. it's all strange. I don't know what is expected of one." A 



4 



1 



96 ''THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.'' 

"Well, I dare say that'll wear off,' oVserved Mrs. Eustace, com' 
placcntly unfurling her fan. "My mother thinks I'm horrid," she 
pursued ; '* but I dou't much mind that, for she is horrid herself." 

" Your mother I " repeated KoorMi, in wonder. 

" She is not my real mother, she is my stepmother. I don't mind 
telling you that she is awfully bad form, very v-vulgar. Lord bless 
you, even Jean see that. She always let me do any blessed thing I 
pleased, and have just whatever I howled for, and that was the ordy 
good thing about her. Not that it was so very good either. My jolly 
old guardians said she had a beastly bad effect upon me. My ^ard^ans 
wanted to get me away from her. My guardians wanted to get rid of 
the responsibility, and so they bothered me into marrying. I didn't 
want to marry. I wanted to have some fun out of life first. I think 
its awfully slow to be married." 

** My dear Mrs. Eustace, what terrible sentiments for a bride," sidd 
Mrs. Nevile-Beauchamp, perching herself gracefully upon an early- 
English settee beside the sisters-in-law. *' You must forgive me for 
admiring the embroidery on your dress. It is quite magnificent.*' 

" Yes, I like it. I think it's pretty smart," said the bride, in her odd 
blunt way, stroking the gorgeous wreaths with a most simple satisfac- 
tion. '* A Frenchman designed it for me. He died just afterwards, I 
sent him a wreath for his coffin." 

Mrs. Nevile-Beauchamp moved off to receive some entering guests. 
" I don't like Kitty — much,'/ announced Mrs. Eustace. " She asked 
me to call her Kitty. May I call you by your name ? It's a funny 
one, ain't it ? " 

" KoorMi." 

"KoorJUil" she repeated. "And mine's Zenobia. I don't know 
why tlicy gave it me. What does it mean ? It's too showy for my 
Rtyle, ain't it ? But most people call me Zen. It's shorter." 

"1 11 m sure that we shall be good friends, Zen," said KoorMi. 

*' Well, anyhow, we can stand up together against the old bounders 
— I mean the fiimily," said Zen, with an odd little twist of her head 
that set all her diamonds twinkling. " But you don't know anything 
about me yet." 

"Yes, I do," replied KoorMi. "Lord Arden told me something 
about you ; and he said that 1 should like you very much." 

Zenobia let her fan fall, and turned her eyes full upon KoorMi. 

" Tell mo exactly what he said," she commanded. 

" He said that you were frank and unaffected, and that you had not 
been spoiled." 

" Ile'd better not ask the jolly old guardians, or Eustace. Anything 
else?" 

" No — at least, nothing very particular." 

" Come, there was I There was something else. Tell it me — 
quick." 

KoorMi smiled, and said reluctantly, *' Only that you had scraped 
the Priory." 



THE FAMIL Y DINNER. HM 

Tin. E>jEttce etAred. 

" Wrli ; it wanted elflining. / don't like to »ce ft hwx^ covew] 
wi^h green mould, and grasa gmwitig on (he tops <if tbo walls. Clean, 
clean ; I wnnt every tiling clean, djn't jtiw know. And perhaps j-oi'" 
Dot minil nij being imperious, Eiislace aaya I'm iiiiporious ; — it'g L 
word. I don'l Bee how I could help it. Of course I mean to have d 
«/wn way. What's the goud of living at all if one don't get oi ' 
My?' 

"There flished through EoorMi's mind wimething Morse hud snid li 
her. She remembered when aha hail been young, like Zen, and hfl] 
eipected to have everything her own way. She met suddenly Zeoif 
wistM glance, whiob was soroohow in cootradicllon with all the rest ol 
tier. In spite of her off-hand manner, Zen bad a walclirul observi 
look, as though aba were feeling her way. 

" I wish you'd tell me what you nre thinking," she Mid ; nnd weH 
on without waiting for a reply. "I always like to turn pi-ople inaWi 
Oat, When I'm talking faetoBt, I am idwaye liiDkin;; most." ZgdoI^Ii'M 
eyes were at that momciit fixed upon the door. Lord Arden h.ia 
entered, and was shaking hands with his hosteis. " Mrs. Nevilfr' 
Beaucb.imn is a o-cat," continued Zenobin. " She wants to 
mo, I'd like to see her do it 1 X don't go in fcFT being m»nng( ,_ 

ia very clever. She is so clever that one is obliged to notice iL Tbe~~ 
cleverfEt people are the ones who make you believe they are atupid. 
Ain't thst so. Lord Arden?" Bhe oddrd. abruptly, adiiri'ssing Lord 
ArdflB, who had at once made his way to tliem. 

Zenobia held out her hand, her face beaming. It was evident that 
she was glad to see him. 

Lord Arden talked to Zouobia for a few mtnutefi, and then some 
lihance turn in the conversation drew Kiur^li into it. Something 
3r other brought np Ihe subject of colonial populations and subJMil 
rsces, whereon Lord Arden was strong, being filled with the principles 
of the Aborigines' Protection Society and Mr. P. W. Chesaon. Lord 
Arden began dviiii; out his vieu-a iti a deprecatory sort of way; and 
iMily bccBuae KoorMi asked for Uiera. Ha espectid probably lo find 
ia lbs. Eenway, the daughter of a colonial prime miniater, a shrill 
feminine representative of tlio views of the old-Ctahiooed coloniat, who 
held that toe soil of the coIotucs was given to him l^ providential 
decree lo hold for him nnd his hrara for ever, and that the aborigines 
were put into Ilia hands by divine deaign, in order that through hia 
eoergetlc agency they miglit be improved off tbo face of all creation 
when they had ceased to be of any further use to him. Lord Arden 
wu much Burpri«ed to Gnd that ICooi^lii went for indeed with his 
ideas, and was full of sympathy witb the natives and of anger against 
the utter sellishnesa of some of iha colonists. From one topic they 
passed on to another, until Eoorilli found herself tnlking with eager- 
ness, animation, and even volubility. The young philanthropiat was 
biAj cbnrmoil with her; and bofure haif an hour it came to this, that 
Lord Aidon was gravely eonsuliiag Konrl'i on aiJttiB i\\ie«.ion cooiB 



n«Ctod with tlie South Sea lalanda; wns eagerly ioterposins, "but 
ihon. Urn. Keaway, is it your opiDioii?" or " wkat I was p'Vrticularlj' 
ADsioiu tu have your ideas about, Mrs. Kenwiiy, was tills;" udw 
Zenobia's breath was fairly taken away. 

" My gooducKS," she said at last, whon a pauRe came in the conver- 
Mtion — a pauBB wliith. fcJie knew would most certainly be filled up at 
uDce if she did not strike la — " you are a p^ to talk ! Why, Kuoiill, 
you do take me off my feet. To think of your knowiug all about tbeaa 
things, and beiug eo clever 1 Who would Lire thought, it of a dellcato 
little shrinking thing like you? Why, I dvdu't suppose you could say 
boh to a goosal " 

" You were wrong, you see ; ahe cnn say boh to nie," Lonl Arden 
said, with A smile. " She has a^id boh to some of my choicest tb-eoriea 
very effectively, 1 cnn assure you." 

"Baa 6he really? " Zenobia asked innocently, "Well, my dear.U 
strikes me that, though there are only two of us, the fumily won't get 
much change out of ub two, 1 say, iiat't wo juat give them 6ts, you 
and me? I Gupposs it's 'you and I,' Lord Arden aiu't it? But I oerer 
could quite make out, and it sounds funny, don't it — that ' I ' statiding 
all alone at the end of a sentence?" 

"Like the criminal in the dock," Arden said gmvely, "when the 
judpe liaa finished the words of doom." 

" Vos; that's it, now," Zenobia. said simply. But to think of ytni 
two taking so much interest in the affairs of other folks, and foreigoura, 
and niggers, and all that lot! Why, I was never taught to take the 
least little bit of interest in any mortal thing but my own conoema, 
Yes; I have been jolly badly brought up," Zenobia went on reflec- 
tively, looking straight before her with the wistful yet alert expression 
in her brown eyes ; " that gets more and more clear to me aa I go on 
and meet people. EooiMi, my denr thing, won't you teach me to 
think about niggers and people as well aa myself? Lord Ardon, will 
you — like ever such a good chap, 1 wish you would — sliow me how I 
am to think about my feilow-man sometimes ? After I have dune up 
the Priory," she addad. "I haven't time just now. It takes a lot of 
thinking when you're lining your rooms with pluah; and you want it 
dyed to suit your completion." 

"I hope you will think about me sometimes, as oao fellow-n 
Lord Arden aaid gallantly. 

"Oh, that I Bluilil" Zenobia replied, with a certain innocent fer^ 
in her tone. It was beginning to lie faintly borne in upon her I) 
there were other objects of interest to human beings in this world fh 
gowns embroidered with humming-birds, and the furniture and trap- 
pings of a rich woman's house. 

Just then Admiral Nevile-Beauchamp broupht up a Groavcnor 
Gallery painter, and introduced him to Mrs. Eustace Eenway — to 
the annoyance of Crichton, who bail been watching the littlo group, 
Zenobia accepted the painter's arm and his invitation to go downatain. 
He beins of the Burne Jonea school, cast a startled glance at hw 



rid^^^ 




THE FAMILY DINNER. 



1 



immed train with childlike snti.-ifno i 

" Mrs. Kcnway," said Lord Ardeu, ■' won't you come and liavo taoiu 

\ or anmethiog ? " 

Eoo[&li rose. There wiis a little block just in front i>f them. 
youDg actreas, to irhom Crichton hod a moment before been in 
dnced, wsa maiing play with her large bistre-ahaded eyes, and tryi 
to keep two or three admirers in tow at once. Koorali w.itched ' 
viUi a wondering look, and Lord Ardeu watched KooriUL The acti 
was Terj pretty and taking, after her type, but it was a ty|« whi< 
Iwwildered Eooi^li a little. She had gold-powdered hair meeting hi 
brows, with big black eyes, and a melodramatic manner which she 
faeicimDg now on Crichton. 

Mr. Kenway, here ia Signer Cbarqui tragically imploring mo to 

) liini down, because he has Xa go home and write an opera, and hia 

doctor tays he will die miless he has plenty of atimulanta. And here 

is Mr. Foxwell declarii^ that he also is dying to get mo aoroe jelly, 

and that the CH-^mpletlon of his Academy picture is in question. Wliat 

a I to do? Mr. l/Vnwell expiring fur me. and Signor Charqu' 

Ut of stimulants 1 I must leave them to die together," and sh( 
her hand within Crichton's arm. 

Lord Arden mid EoorUi moved oo. 

" It 13 a iittle perplesing for you," said he, with a laugh, " t 

opie you only know across the footlights dressed llko the rest of 

" I auppOBO lliey are like the rest of the world," said KoorMi 
"Anyhow, they mean you to think bo," he replied. "When you 
B iDtioduced \a the fur Misa Mauloverer, Ura. Kenwny, you must 

andd anything remotely professionad. You must ask her if xhs was 

in the Park this morning, and if sha went to Lady So-and-So'a party 

last night, though you know that according to physical laws aiie muat 

hive been at the Burlington Theatre." 
As they came out of the aupper-room, Kenway made his way 

vife. He had given Misa Maiiioveror up to Mr. G^dlup, the com 
" those two, with the lady who bunted st matintes and the youn] 

.._ I who was more realistic than Zula, formed a little knot at T 

bottom of the Etaira. 
"The iiooial status of the acbjr," Mr, Gallup waa saying — "I 
cinl etatua of the actor may lie auTamed up in oub woid — lioup 

aud he executed an acrDbatio hound nnda series of funny grimacea. 
"Oome alim?," said Ivenway, touching EmvJlli — she had got Bel*- 

nted for a moment from Anten — '' we will get away from all thia 

iafontal roL" Then, seeing Lord Arden, he made an ehdjorate little 

i^eeCh abouthia wife's dolicalo licalth and the bore of having *- -' 

to two or three places in an evening. 

"Good night," said Anlen. "I shall see you soon agnir 

&nwfty, at Lady Betty Morse's. She has promised to a&k 

meet yuu at auoliier SunJa/ dinner." 



the ^H 



ill thia 

e little ^^ 

J 



100 "TffE nitftT RO'NOViiA-BLE? " 

Kenway wbs jileased that thfl bystanders fibouW fcno 
diiial &I the Morsos'. He bode Arden good night tvith cordinlityi jL 

" lliat inan is a cad," thou°;ht Arden to himscir, aa they moTGdV 
"and 1 shauldn't think she liked it, poor little thiugl" 



CHAPTER Sn. 



TliOFIO FLOWEB. 

Cbichtos Ki'.NWAT had pnssed through three aeveral s: 
with regnrd tu big wife's pouLioa in London Bociety. When 3 
were on the way to Eoglani!, and for the first few days of their ■ 
he felt ronvinccd that he naa the happy possessor of a wifs wl 
destined to becoma a slar of the Iiondon season and of many bi 
After the party at Lady Betty's, which was really their first V\ 
in what could be called society, he fell into a condition of , 
disappointment lie was convinced that Koor^li was a dead fftilcL 
hopeless failure ; and he was wroth with her and almost hatedg 
She became transdgured in his eyea> Her very face, her veir ^ 
did not seen) the same to him. Up to that time, in hia Sultoi 
fashion, ho had been delighted to feast hia eyes on the beau^ o 
face and her form. Even when she aonoyed him, he regarded 
much in the light of a horse, a dog, a picture, some chattel ^ 
belonged to him, and might l>a either scnldeil, admired, or k 
ignortd as the mood tocik him. After that he began to wonder ^ 
ho could have seen charm of feature, or figure, or movement 
She was so shy, he thought; she looked so awkward ; she did n 
well; she did not wear her clothes well; smart dresses would Dot^ 
smart if put on by her. Then came the third stage. Kenwaj d] 
quite understand soiety in Londun; Lady Betty did. Lady ]let^ 
said that KoorMi would be a great success, aod Lady Betty was li 
for she kuew her world and her people. She knew that thai 
novelty of KoorJlli's shy ways, her little bursts of a sort of iutelld 
aggressiveneas, which was only shyness taking another form, herS 
dreamy poetic sympathies and faaciea, which Lady Beltj perO 
[rum the outside though she did not understand ihem, her o ' 
her utter lack of affectation — Lady Betiy hud seen at i 
peculiarities such as these, when combined with a graceful figure and 
a singularly pretty and picturesque face, woidd tell on London society. 
And in truth, they did tell. Before Kuorhli had been many weeks 
going about in society, there were found pretty languishing girls who 
tried to walk, and stand, luid lean, and use their eyes, and move th^ 
hands after what they conceivoil to be the pattern uf the young 
AustraUan married womnn that all ihe world was talking of. Thi* 
w*B Eenway's third experience. He was not yet over his anger and 
dtsappoinCmenl at her social failure, when he bad to change bis ideal 
nil round ouce more, and to wonder and delight over her social si 



Ill i.j inv'L"^ •". 

TKE "LANGUOROUS TROPIC FWXVER} 

r<c; ihere was DO mistake about it. The raolity 4mild D ^ . . 
marejf because it was a plastot fuui unexpected realStjr; hn wm tl 
J«»ful owner of the succeisfLil beiuity of the Lotulna sen 

Eecwaj was especially iotcresteil is obaerriDg the ni ... 

Sudham Morse took to KoorJJL He Wfts plcaard to see hoir in 
Hone evidentlv liked her. Crichtoa Eenway was not a martyr U 
Dfjeslonay. lie had a pkcid (utli ia hU wife^ He did not hv] 
■be had one drop of psssioouie emO'tion in ber; he Teit sure tha 
lempta^on in the world could induce her to do wrong. Uo did qo(^ 
wiUeularly ndmire her for this; sho wanted blood, ho thought. Sh« 
Utd DOl " go " enough in her to core for love-making and that lort ol 
tUng. In some ways it was very lucky for him tliat she was cast in 
nich a mould ; at nny rate, it relieved iiim from all appreheoEioa. He 
OPIiU trust her where other men could not trust their wives ; that is 
lo say, he could make uao of her where other men could not make use 
of tbeir wives. 

It was clear to him that Morsa was the rising man in Koglish 
politics ; and be meant to rise with Morsa. It was clear to him that 
t time was coming, was close at hand, would come after the next 
general election, wbr^n the democratic party must get a chauce; and 
vrtlh that time would come Morse, as Prime Minister, or, at the very 
least, as leader of the House of Commons, with some noble ligiire-heall 
in the House of Lords to be set up for the nominal part of Premier. 
Then Kcnway wanted to get some permanent appointment. Ills 
recent London experiences made him now rather scorn the coionial 
gavemorship which hod at first been the object of his desires. He had 
not the means Ui go Into Partial Dent, although he hod some ambition 
of that kind. Ha wanted a secure place, with bo many thousands a 
year, and the sdniission intu good society. He wanted to ba cortiun 
of a handsome iccome ; to live well ; to have no more debts ; to dine 
ont every evening in ^e season at good houses ; to make a round of 
visits at castles and country seats during the recess; to know every 
one in society; to be consulted by evury one; to be in the thick of 
everything, and to snub the Family and make them wild with envy. 
Now, all this could be assured to him by a permanent appointment li 
the Coionial Office, and this be intended that Morse should gut fit 
hint. He began to think that Koorati might be of inestimable sorvtj 
to Hm, provided she did not indignantly revolt at this sort of f ' ' 
KtA. ba therefore saw with peculiar graiification that Morse at . . 
like her more and more every day. Kenivay never could talk \> 
much now; they had hardly anything in common. When she and 
Horse sat together they seemed never to want for subjects of convor- 
■ItioD. Becretly, this incensed him, and at times be almost hated 
Uorso — not from jealousy, but from a sense of itiferiority. Thna \ 
reflected that even a statesman, wten he wisheB to gain the favoiir| 
a pretty woman, must unbend and make her believe she is bis intf 
'— ■ — 1 equal. A husband's position naturally releases hira from E 
" ' iucb affoctatinns, 



>t^H 

o he? .. , 

hated , 
'onr^^B 



lei ^r^^^ 1 

He was, of course, fat too clever and Uw knonrin^ tn conMnt b 
ligUM ia Bociety merely bs "beauty's husbaQd." Kiich a positioii 
occoptci) hy him vould not serre his purpose at ol). He meant lu 
make a distinct mark upon society for himself; and he succeeded, lis 
could do a great mnny things remarkably well, and he hod the ait al 
mnkinf; the most of his accompliahmentB, He rode splendidly; to 
knew thnt uhen the autumn came on he would be able to Ehow himMlf 
BgoodshoC; he was almost a brilliant tsllcerj he knew many couctriM 
well, and had a courier-life gift of polyglot conversation. He could 
give advice on almost any aubject; and there watt do question "- 
which he could not come to a decision in a moment. Nothing 
presses the majority of men moia than the capacity to give a judgment 
on the instanL Solomon himself, if he asked for time to consider • 
point, would not be half so impressive, bo necessary to his friend, n 
comforting to mankind in general, as some one who gave a wrong 
opinion, hut gave it at once, and with an air of decision. What if tbs 
opinion be wrong? Nobody cares after the thing is over; unlre^ 
perhaps, the one man who has acted upon the opinion, and he does not 
always remember whether he diil act upon it or on sonie judgment or 
impulBe of his own. The rest of the world forget all about the matter, 
and only remember that Crichton Kenway, by Jove, sir, is a roan who 
can tell you off-hand exactly what you ought to do under any given cir- 
cumstances, by Oovel An uncommonly clever fellow, everybody aaid 

Yes; Kooraii was a social aucoesa. She came upon London, society 
towards the close of a season when there was a sort of reaction 
against the professional beauty, and people had raved themselves into 
weariness over the favourite actress. K-Oor^li's shrinking wild-flower 
looks and ways — or what Lady Betty called her wild-falcon ways — 
had a sudden attraction for all who just then were yearning for novelty. 
Lady Betty had fallen straightway ia love with her eyes, her figure, 
her stylo generally ; and she had set various other great ladies also in 
admiration of them. A royal prince begged to be enabled to maka 
acquaintance with the Australiaa visitor; and highly commended, not 
only her appearance, but her manners and her odd, pretty name. And 
tlini, Kooihli's very mode of dressing, so unlike that of regulated and 
conventional social life, had its charm also. 

She first made a sensation at Mr. Whistler's "trn o'clock." Lady 
Betty shepherded her assiduously, and took core that just the right 
word should be said about her to just the right people. It was one of 
Lady Betty's little whims to lake up occasionally and make the reputa- 
tion of some pretty, witty, or chaiining woman. She did not care for 
beauties who " ran " as such, and on patriotic grounds she disapproved 
of the croze for American loveliaeBS. She had thought for some time 
that the colonials should have a chance, and had tried a little whils 
ago to start the daughter of that great shearer of sheep. Sir Vesey 
Piymplon, and the wife of a possessor of many gold claims, who, how- 
ever, had been a dead failure. Lady Betty had submitted to a little 
good-natured chalfon the aubject of her " Australian with the nuggets," 



THE "LANGUOROUS TROPIC FLOIVER." 

wbn smiOt i>f BaTlarAt, nud wLoeo startling Worth toilettes hnd oi 
Hniu.-d as muob talk as Mrs. X^tigtr^'s famous costumes at the Priuc^V 
Vbeatre. Now, Lad; Betty wns pleM^d to mnke it evident thitt K 
Australian woman could be chamting and ori^a) without ovei 
dreSEtitg, under- dressing, talking Btrsng^e Antipodean slang, Bud nggrai 
Rivdy auggcatbg iiug<;«tH. She laid aumo ntruES upon the fact o 
Cricbton Kcnway's modest clrcunisLsnces, wbile at Ihu aante time si 

alluded raguely to his political prestige and his views upon ll 

"anneiation of New Guinea, and Lord Derby and fcdEmlion — a sottl 
Af model for the Irish nnliooalists, don't you knovi'." Lady Betty, ia 
W pretty inconsequent way, addreasfid a chiinipion of Homo Hule, 
yho was too distinctly and n^itionally humorous to be excluded from a 
tilicle which craves amusement, " Witli our dear princess's husband at 
tliB Cnstle ; Hs he ia a German there could not be any ill feeling." 
Lady Betty was quite taken with the idea, and presented th« Homo 
BulflT to Koorilli forthwith. It is not quite certain, however, whether 
d^ton Kenway would have relished her description of him, could he 
M tie Dni verse Club have heard it given. Laily Betty cauglit the^ 
"ention nf the art clique first, as in duty bound to her entcrt^nerjj 
1 after Mr, Whistler's lecture, of which in truth our youag bar>B 
Imriiui understood but little, KoorMi found herseir the centre of a groiqi 
,tt Btriiung and Mephisloplidian figures, and in the novel position ol 
t Idnd of lightning-conductor divertiog the abate of tbo leaders n' 
rival BchonlB, of which one might be said to find " Le iieau daif. 
riwrriblc," and of the other "L'horriUe dnus lo beau." KoorjiU fet) 
tbe whole tiling a little bewildering. It was a very curious and repro-^ 
Centativs gntbL-ring — rank, fashion, jKiliticK, art, literature, medicine, 
and the stage, hobnobbing joyfully. Tbo house at which the party 
took place had got the name of Noiiii's Ark, from the variety of specief 
which were wont to congregate in it. No fitter scene cuuld have been 
duosen for EoorMi's first success. 

Lady Betty was interested on her own account as well. She realizei? 
her Ambition to make the acquaintance of Doctor Maria Lakeswel' 
Tubba, and KooriVli was included in tlio arrangement which ensured 
llio dangling or the skeleton before a select feminine comxtany in Pari 
I«ae. Lady Betty began to mcdita.te a ptiy Biological crusade, and thi 
I oligbtemnent of her own scs upon the dangers attending tight lacing 
Qbia did not allow the artiiitB and the Home Ituler, however, V 
tnonopollKB hot charge too lung, lady Betty know how to raanag' 
thing'. A duchi'GS, whose ^est eon was talked of as the coming 
gOTWIwr ofa great Australian colony, was sweetly propitiated. Othei 
grctd ladies were taken in hand in turn. Then an elderly peer, whc 
was alw a poet, a story-teller, and an admirer of beauty, asked for an 
iutroduction to Eoor^i. He told her his latest good thing, laughing 
n bt cbucUa at his own wit. He asked her three times where she 
lived, and the nest day sent a card for an "at home.* After him 
CftDU another literary man, an nged mnaber, with tiny shrivelled form, 
tliin silviTy hair, trenil'lius; iiaiids and bleared blue pyes — but a pi'ivof"! 



u wmimf m&mm 

in bis iphere, a critic whose verdict made ormiirrrd a boo3( orabeRutj. 
He was a living volume of scandaJous chronicle, dating back to Byroa 
iu bu pnmo; descending from the Guicdoli to luxuriant mitraaa 
[oesent, at whom be glanced, shaking nitb impisb merriment. " They 
are bo proper n&w," be murmured, " with [heir dau^ters beside tbeml 
But tile tales I could tell 1 " 

Aad the talcs he did tell ! Horror 1 Koor&ll shia^sk like & wounded 
fawn. She turned a pale indigoant face, to meet Lord Arden's eyca 
He had dropped in late. He gare her hia arm and took lier doan bi 
supper. He felt like aome knight proleotiog an innocent maiden. 

"I know what Adrian May&nks converaalioa is to men," be said; 
" I can imagine what it might be to women. When be wits younger, 
he become a sort of star in the drawinz-rooma ; and It waa the Tasliiun 
to Binile bchicd fans at Hr. Haybank'a spicy anecdotes. I will tell 
you wiiat a great woman, who Is dead now, once said of bim. It will 
show you that ll;cre ore quceoH of vomauhood who ktiow how to defend 
thelt royalty." 

There waa a repressed enlhualasm nbnut Lord Arden's way of talkins, 
«vea when he was iucUned to be a Uitle cynical, which maiie him seem 
an odd blending of knight-errantry and nine tee nth-con turyiam. 

" This woman bad been a singer. She was a genius. The blood 
of the tragedians flowed in her veins. She was a muse herself. I wish 
I could describe her to you. She was diamond-eyed; and when roused, 
she could break into flashing speech. I mean Adelaide Eemble; and 
I get CarlylesQUO when she is my subject. I saw her one evening a 
few years back — she was past her prime, but magniEcent still— in 
a room full of people, clever and fasliionablo, when Adrian Mnybank, 
bis talent, bis wit, hia social charm were under discussion. She was 
silent, wilh her elbow resting upon a table, her chin upon ber hand, 
her tycbrowa i>ent ominously, till appealed to by het hostess. 'And 
you, Mrs. Snrtoria, what is your opimon 7 ' I tell you, it was some- 
thing beautiful to see the dramatic gesture, the (lame from those dark 
eyes, the Kembla head thrown back; to hear the clear, thrilling voico 
which spoke slowly and deliberately — 'When Adrian Jlaybank enters 
a room in which I am, there is but one tbin|I would say, "Women 
and boys, leave the court."' That was all, Mrs. Kenway. She went 
back to her former sttitudo, but no one saeiaed very ready then to 
can7 on the pruse of Adrian Mayliank." 

The episode of this intrLduction did not end here. The next morn- 
ing EoorMi received from Mr. Ma^banlc a tiny rrescntiition volume of 
poems which celebrated, in language of old-faahiDned free gallantry, 
the charms of various well-known ladies, to whose initials the pwt 
had, for the stranger's enii"htcninent, appended In hia crabbed band- 
wriiiog the other letters of their names. Enclosed with the volume 
wna a copy of sparkling vers de meiSii, addressed to the fair AuatrnllBii, 
They were the Inst Adrian Maybank ever wrote; fur he died suddi " ' " 
the following day. He hod, however, distributed the little 
widely. 





r-wtmsssp 



nane^ffioir/EK.* ' n* 



Thus vexs KiKH^i made faiuouB : to Morsel's vi^iq r^rot ; to Iifuly 
Cvtty'8 childlike sntUfactioa ; ta the envy of Mrs. Nerilo-Bcauchaaip; 

end to the astoaishmeut and alarm. >.>f the Family (>enerall7i who iff 

coavJDe«d that such eudden nototicty could not ba ooiuistent v 
good inorala. Some pAragrajih in a social weekly, and a f«w iiv 
cdmin&te rumours penetrating the Mcred circle, tinally brought alx] 
a fuuily conclave, in the couiao of trbich Lady Cantclouue gave 
the KBoIutioa that it was deiirable Mtb. Crichton Blujuld be atiubbe 
ibr Lndy Canteloupe vaa one of those atrictly proper ladies who h 
(be theory that virtue is a tender plant which can only Sourish in 
ddmntic forcing-houae. ZenoUa was not included in the fimily ol 
cU*e. She had quite mside up her mind that »he and KotiriUi w 
piedmd to an ofTen^ve and dtfensiTe alliance against tLe Family, 

"Well!" she said abruptly to Ejorili, when according to _^ 
aaaouDcement she came l« 1uqc1i»ou, " do you feci a little less chM 
tban irhen I saw you firat — now tlint you are boliig turning into ft 
professional beauty? You see, I was right, 11 1 have the muoey, you 
have wbat is higher in the market." 

Zenobia often came to call on K'oor^li. Crichton shuddered faintly 
at the sight of her carriage, which he used to notice standing at his 
door; and Le always huiKii, on those oocosious, that none of his 
fosbionable friends would call at tbe same time. It was a very mag- 
nificent turn-out, with as much gold ptatiug and oruamental chain- 
work a< could be attached to the kamcss, 

" I wonder you don't pontuodB your wife to drop that stylo of Lord 
Ibyor"* conch," Crichtou sud once to his brother EusUice. 

" Ah 1 " Eustace iind a quiet irritating way of putting his eyeglass 

i& hi* eye, and languidly answering a question or remark which an- 

lywd him. "It's her money, yoa know. I suppose she has a right 

buy a Lord Mayor's coach if she liUes it." 

Crichton s-iid no more. He was clever enough to see that Eustacoa 
exaggerated tolerance of his wife's eccentiicities concealed a gall. It 
was very evident that JJuatace hod married without love, and was 
ubamed of having done so, 
JCooritli did not, as Zenobia heradf would have phrased it, " tumble 
i" her sister-in-kw. She was opproaseil by Zenobia'a eiubernnt 
vitality, by her frunlcness which seemed a want of delicacy, and by her 
dutg and boyish manners. Thers was almost nothing in common 
between them except a certain sincerity and love of truth, character- 
istic of both. KooriLli thought, at first, that Zenobia was vulg.ar. 
After « while, she liegan to feei that the over-dressing and apparent 
Mtflotntiim of wenlth were not vulgarity, but were due to the fact thnt 
tha poor little BhefSeld heiress hiiil had no experience of anything 
etuh It all cnnieaa naturally to her as the dignity of simplicity comos 
ta otbero. Then Eoor&li saw that Zeniibia was making discoverlen, 
(bat she WHS not happy, and that she found it hard to adapt her crude, 
bujnieniBh, mnterial views of life to the mors ^omploc condition of 
tUngs which her marriage had brui ight about. There was aometlilng 



*THE mCHT KO!«ftmA»iJ& 



CHAPTER Xin. 



^Fuiet Tfr)- often — Lmiy Betty'B charming palronaga of Kooill 
, _„B^retty way of " making things nice for her," brought lhi» aboni 
miwt a&turelly — at Morae's house. KoorMi bcc»me quite a feature ul 
the little luncheon parties for which Litdy Betty was celehrateil, and 
at which Lady Deveril gatliered plentiful "copy." But apart from 
Rucli owuMioni), she snw him frequently in her own home. Perhagn , 
Lftciy Betty was hanlly ftivare of the frequency of these visits, but bftii 
«lie been so, Bhe would have thought notbing of it. It never occnmd 
to Morse either to BupprcBa the fnc t of his friendship with KoorUi, at 
to make much of it. He had glided quite naturally into tba intimncy, 
quito naturally into a habit ot dropping ta at lira. Kenway's on bia 
way to the House in ihe aftemoona, and of talking to her, at first 
vaguely, of his political opinions, bis hopes and fears.for England, all 
the "viewa"' which Lwly Betty had a Fasiiion of dismissing as bdng 
merely picturesque and the proper thing for a, Hadical stateamaiL But 
Koomi look them eeriouaiy, and had a grave way of listening and ot 
looking at him as be talked, snd of putting in every now and then a 
word or two of intelligent sympathy that bad a strangely soothing 
effect upon hinv. 

Exciling queutious were coming up. The electinna were tnlksd of 
and the cliances of war, which rumbled like thunder in the distance, 
or like the slow upheaving that heralds an earthquake. In the loU 
before the storm, tlie Government wna affecting to bony itaclf with 
Australian afiaJTs, a safe subject to handle; aud Ihe Grst reading of 
tiie Federation Bill, of which Morse had spoken to Eoorilli, nas to 
come on. I'ho first note which she ever received from Morse was 
written from the Hoobo of Commona, and in reference to this dabato. 
It gave her a curious thiill of pleaanra. No one htul ever before 
written to lier from that place. It seemed to revive crude girlish 
dreams, when she hail visions of being a power in unwritten Austra- 
lian history, and of swaying the councils of publio men. bbe beg 
to fcol within her breast a rising np of her old self, her real self, wM 
bcr marriapu had cruabi.'d. She seemed lo know suddenly that Bhe B 
reaourcas of intellect and emotion never yet brought out. It wa 
odd sort of fancy; it frightened her a little. 

Morse's iiuie was short, scarcely tolling her more thnnthat be« 
s|icuk the next evening. One little passage at its ctos 
loucbeil her, for it seemed to speak ofwenriness and dejection. 

"I am writing to you from one of the lobbies 'upstairs,' 
pbmse is here. The debate going on below drags and drones, t 
would that I wore a travelling tinker, and mi^t wander away thro 
»rcoii fields and down by the river with Iho bulrushes, wl ' ' 
i iisauciute with Australia and vou." 



^^ 



THE TERRACE. 

It h>»l been ftt Gr^-t settled that L^idy B«ttf should Lake Kou _ 
Ihe Hdubv of ConimonK, but nhea tLo time came, it baiipened ihnt t] 
debate clashed witb agraud fSCo nt the Inventoriea — almost the l4.. 
event of the Bt'itnoQ — a sort of Floral Fair, at which Hoyalty had I 
gruuoiisif conaented lo hold a stnll, and at which Lnilj Betty Morw^ 
waa toossiBt Hoynl tv.nl tended bjLhe boy Lennio dressed in modlnvalM 
pogc^a costume. All the proleseionitl beauties, and nuoy bcnutlex wli«.T 
wn« not pTDfosaioDal, would OS aranttcr of course beat the ISte. Ladf.l 
Setty insisted that KoorAli must take her stand amongi^t them, ? 

Kenwny was at first very mnch annoyed whoa after luncheon thab^ 
^y she declared her intention of going to the Uouae of ConnuonKj 
< iDi^ead. She did nut at Ibe moment sny that Morse was to spifljb V 
It waa Doe of Kourilli's Kiulrs perhaps, at any rata one of the iubjkiU J 
wl^shcondKeowaydidnot "get on," tVint sha could nevur event* 
■ trivUl discuBsiun roEeC him frankly ^itJi njind bared, as gucli 4 
woman would naturally have dooe had she bten sure of Bymp.ilU*llB 
opmprehension. She hod a nervous, almost phyaioid drBM of btiKf^^ 
QiisiDtcrpretcd, and ebrauk from an abrupt wonl as a timid womnf 
misht Bhrink from an expected blow. This altitude iriitnltd Ecovmy^ 
inexpressibly; aod Koorilli felt and owned to herself that he Eomff>9 
limes had reason on his side. V 

" What an infernal fool you nro," ho said wrathfidly, " You have 1 
opportunities made for you which don't fall to the chance of ono 
womaTi in a million, and you don't know how to take advantage of 
them. Last night you wouldn't go to the Coulmouts, because you hud 
a hendaehe, or some such rut, and my lord was as gruff as could bo. 
Tou might roinembcr that this sesson is a sort of speculation to me. 
Do you suppose that I should go in for it if I didn't mean to muke 
money out of it ? Tou roi«ht consider my interests," 

" I don't know how I should be serving your intereata by going to 
the Inventories this evcnicg," aidd Koorilli. " I should certainly not . 
make any money, and that is what we most need jitat now " 

Crichtoo got up and stood with his back agdust iho m 
pictnre of angry discontent. 

" I am glad you are be^nning to realize that," ho a.iid 
cynical voice. "As a rule, you tJiku things as coolly as if ^u ha9 
been bom a millionaire, instead of — what you were, 'i'he fact is, tl ' 

unless my speculation auececda, you will nut be likely in future to 

much of the people you may meet to-night. Every day wo are potting \ 
deeper into debt. That would not matter much if X bad any way of 
laiaing money, but 1 have next to nono now. I am sure to lose my 
appointment before long. In the Austrolinn lileirains to-day, the 
South Britain Ministry is described as sLiky. Wh:>t shnll you do 
then ? How should you like to go back to Australia, or to vegetaH j 
down at the Grey Manor ? " M 

Eooritli got up from her seat too. - ■ 

"Crichton," she said earnestly, "I have told you over and oW?^ 
Bgpia that I am willing, am\ious, to live in a nnaller house and give 




up tlie carriage and nil that, or to pc to the Grey Manor. Tou Tolcht 
liiiTi) nwma near your office; I Bhouldn'l mind, I should like that. 
But while we are living in thia wny^so fer heyond our meanB, and 
miLking no elTort to retrench, the mily thing is to try and forget tlw 
TnlsoncM uud hollowuesa of it all. And ea I take tliiugs coolly, as you 
8«y," 

" It would bo more to the purpose if you helped me, by making 
yoUfBelf Dgrccable to Lord Cuulmout and people of influence. But you 
let men drop in the most tactless way — fellows who might bo o( »er- 
vico to me. You offend them, and do more harm than good." 

" You should rather flay," aneiveced Kooruti with sarcastic empliauB, 
■' that they offend mo." 

"My dear, what woman was it, that honeted she hod never lost a 
lovor without turning him inlo a friend? I am afraid you haven't 
learned that art. All men of the world make love to a pretty woman. 
You are old enough to take care of yourself. I don't see how it out 
hurt you if Coulmont, for instance, who will be at the Inventories to- 
n^t and on the look-out for you, should make you a few jiretty 
speeehes. The man is pleasant — and may be — useful." 

EooriLli said nut a word. She moved to the writlng-tahle. 

" What are you doing 7 " asked Ecnway. 

"I am writing a note to Lady Betty Morse to say that I can't be at 
her stall this evening." 

Ccichton strode forward. " I must beg that you will chflnge yi 
mind," he said, his tone suggesting intense anger bottled up. 
{laused suddenly, and fkdded aliruptly, " Why are you so anxious 
to the IIouBo? " 

" Because," replied KoorMi, turning to him with clear eyes, " 
Morse is going to speak on the Federation Bill, and he has sent 
note to say that he has got a seat for me in the Ladies' Gallery." 

She saw the expression of her hushaud's face change completely. At 
ths same moment, a rush of crlmaoQ dyed her own cheeka, and some' 
thing seemed to cateh her breath and almost to choke her — a swiftly 
dartmg thought, sensation, she hardly knew what it woa. She tumd 
away her eyes. The china figm^a on a bracket near were outUned 
with odd distinctness. It was as though she had never noticed tliem 
bcfuro. She could not look at Eenway with that consciousness between 
them. She could not go on with her note. The words " Dear Lady 
Betty," which she had written, soetnod to stand out like letters of fire. 

It was only for a few seconds. There came a quick levulwon. 
Self- wonderment and scorn, and the sense of loyalty to her friend 
thrust Qwny the suggestiou that stung her, and she seemed to b« 
standing at arms, not in her own defence, but in defence of others^ 
Bhe hardly heard her husband's words. 

"You are quite right, KoorMi. You ought to go and hear Mone, 
especially ns he wishes it, and it's an Auatrallan subject I'll squsra 
things with Coulmont. He won't think any the worse uf you, or of me, 
because Saodham Morse values your opinion." 




e at 

i 



THE TERRACE 

Eoo^ utUred & liule 07, almost of pain. 

"CrichlOD!" she exoUimoJ, and there waa itn imploHng ni 
voice, " ynu Ulk la a strange hard way lomotimes, u if you llioug 
nolhmg mattered about me, or about anything, so long n: 
money and are Bought after by great people. But yoa don't 
Tfou -wouldn't like me to be spoken lightly of, or — or to ioBO my 01. 
cdf-respect? Tou can't like this holTowneM and mockery, and ^ 
jarring there ia between us whenever we talk about real things. C 
Crichton ! if you had only been more gentle with ma — if you hod n 
underMood me better, we shouldn't be such poor companion* ti 

"I don't find you a poor companion, KoorMi," sniJ Crichton, I 

lused, half toiiched, "You hitve improved very much s' 

70 been going into aocicty, and have learned how to dress ana now w 
talk. You see now that Houlh Britain isn't the world, and that it'i 
the way of doing things which malies all the dlfTcrcDCO. As fur wish- 
ing you to be ' lightly spoken of,' yon must surely be aware that I aai 
the last man to allow my name to be dr^^ed in the mire." 

EooKlU had Btretehed out her hands involuntary to him. She drew 
them bock now, and let them fall by her sidvs. 

" Ab for understanding you," continued Konway, with a little Inugh, 
" you seem to fancy yourself a eort of Chinese puzzle, that has to bo 
taken to pieces and put together again. That's not my idea of a 
woman or of maniaga. IT so, thero ia something decidedly rotten about 
the whole thing." 

" I quite sgreo with you, my dea.r Crichton," said KoorMi, with some 
ipirit, sitting down a^Fiin and beginning to dash off her note. "I'here 
s Bomething decidedly rotten, as you express it, about the whole 
.hiiig. I fancy that view would commend itself to most men and 
voinen who erer think at all about marriage in the abstract." 

•■ Come," said Kenway, going up to her and putting his hand on her 
shoulder — he did not notice that she winced ever so slightly under his 
l<>uch — "you need not get snvage or po into a forty-eight hours' sulk 
about nothing. Wish me luck at the bank, rather. I'm going to try 
and screw nn advance out of the manager, and ^hatl have to make up 
■ODM cock-and-bull excuse for wanting it which won't damage my 
credit. 1 think I hod better lay it on you, and say ive have been send- 
ing money out to Australia to your brother. They know he haa been 
nearly cleaned out with the drought, and has had a ruiv with Middle- 
mist. But no, that story won't do; they might try and verify iL" 

lie Hiih with which Crichton Ecnway had dealings was the London 
branch of an Ausballan iirm. The principal knew Eenway well enongh 
to grant him an overdraft now and then ; and hitherto, by some lucky 
chance, things had always been put straight again. But these accom- 
inodatiuna and the frieiidly footing they were on entitled him, as it 
irere, to atk free qneationa as to the usea to which the money was to 
be Applied, and the ins and outs gcucrolly of Kenway's private affairs, 
with a view of course to the security of the loan. It was a little di(B- 



cull nltvnjs to vri^la tialaly out of these inqu'iriea; but Krnmi 
•pecioUBiicss served him on Bucb occaaiutiG in gixid stead. He hhi 3i 
me kuiiuk o! making out a good case, nud of iaepiring coaGdence W 
Ilia Lategrity, which had tided him ovar inaoy a serious crisis. But Hm 1 
was A mwi. more serious crisis than any ho hod yet had to eoci 

"I ibnll ask Bouhote to dinner," continued KcDH'aT, taking . 

engasemeQl book sod loukiog orer it, Uuohote was tbe manager ^J 
tile Bank. "I see we ore free on Sundny. One can get so much n*^^^ 
oat of ft man over a Iwttle of Leovilte. Remember, if lie comta, i 
you don't say the wrong thing. Xoa have an unhappy kunok of d< 
tbnt, dear, wlien a WMc Jlnesse is required." 

" Uh, do not let ua tell lies," cried Kootikli. " I cnn'C bear it, I 
limes, when I bear you making up a plaiiEible tale, 1 shudder, 
wiiuld lie ovun to me, if it served your purpose." 

■' 1 muh you wouliiu't take things like thai," returned Kenwny, > 
little discomposed. " I am ODJy doing my best for you as well as (bt 
myself. Wa are In a halo, and wo must get out of it. If I oi 
suaile the bank to give me anotlier leg-up, I must go to the Jews. 
■Wei), good-bye. Go to the House, You'll take the c ' ' ' 

get MoiBe to give jou some coffee. Go with him for a . - - -, 
terrace, and make the tunning with him — in jioiitios, niy dear — ,ib ■ 
flirtation, I suppose you are botlk alxive that — but keep an ey 
my intei:eiit.s, and don't shirk beiag introduued to any fellows \i 

He wns leaving ibe room. At the door Koor&ll's voice stujifiod iJ 

" Ciichton." 

"■Well?" 

" Will you go with me this evening?" 

"To tho House? No. Why should I? Morse will look after y 
1 don't aire a straw about federation, tbou^^b, of course, I mustn't let 
people think BO. And then I want to make it all right with Coiilnioul. 
It won't do for a Cabinet Minister to fancy you mean to drop him, be- , 
cause he bas been fuolisb enough to admire you." 

Kenway laughed again that rasping laugb, which grated a 
wife's nerves. He dlil not give ber time 1o make any remon 
but left tija room ; and prcseuUy stie heard the ball door closing v 
a bang behind liim. 

KoorMi did not at this time know mnch about the House of Coiit^ . 
mona; but she expected somehovv tliat Morse would bo wailing to 
receive her, and that be would put everything right for her. She 
drove to the door of the Ladies' Gallery in the inner courtyard, and 
there she did find Morse waiting. He was a little surprised at seeing 
her alone; but be did not say anything of that lo her. She evidently 
had not ihougbt about the matter, or did not know that ladies do not 
usually coma alone to the House of Commons. He could get 1 
Betty to };ive her a hint some time, ho said to himself; and it re 
did not miittct much in any ca.'ie. So he took Kcori^li to ber plac_ 
the gall^'ry, and in due course of time Ihcrc came on tbe motion for H 



And 

nll^H 

;ryoW 
n't let ' 
Inioul. 

MOn^Hj 
nstra^H 
ing ^4^1 

of Co^^ 




THE TERRACE. 

debate on the accond re.iditig of the Australian Federation Eill, w 
Ucfve made hi« t-peeeli. It was not a luRg Bpuecli ; it did not opixN 
Uie measure ; it merely warned tils young colonirt agniait tbe ro8|)a~ 
Gibilitiea, palllicol and moral, of a clusu fidlowBhip and partacrahln wl 
the old empre. Tharo was a di-iuucratio and alraott a repulJirt 
ita^ about tbo speech which dtligliLrd the little repnblicin CrutnSoi 
Brltaio. EoorUi felt her old enibuaiaam revive. Mutsu'b Tvioe ■% 
>4roag^ sweet, and pcnetratiug, wibh a nietallic ring in it« Room 
tuDC^ It thrilled her aa no other vaiou hnd ever done. KiKiriLli rocallfj 
jflerwards to her memor;, with a cerbiin shaTnefaceJarEs, that a 
found htrHelf trembling with. excltcucDt wben Morse began to spialk 

After bis speech, he rame to the KHlt.ry fur Koorilll, and broug'' 
tier donnetairs. He had asked her to come and ace the librar j ; b . 
hI<« refused. She had not many minutvs li-ft, slie said ; ebs wished % 
get home befans it became late. 

How, when the eiciiement was ov-er, ehe felt shy and strange. 

id A paioftd consciuusness of aoine biddtn meaning in Ciicbion'd 

]ida Uiat afternoon, a meaning she might have discovered ranilil;fl 
enough hnd Lord Cuulmont or any oilier in.in bten iu qu'.f ' ' " 
whieb she could not, would not, apply to Morse. 

She declined hia offur of coffee ; ftud she slirank from iiitn 
I any of hia friends. She grew but as she reniembei-ed the cbaiigo lu 
her husband's manner, and bis reference to inlliiuiitial people; hut IT^ 
think that he bad recommended ber to " lUako the ruaning," ercQ 11 
(lolitics, with Morse. When MorsLt bi'gsed her at least to take o 
"rn on the terrace, she hesitated and looked troubled. 

"• Mra. Kuaway," he said, " why are you in siich a hurry b 

1 You are not going anywhere tbi:i evening, 1 know ; and youf fl 
tiuaband is at the Irjveniories enjoying the liojalties — as much perbnpi 
AS Lady Betty," he added with a little lau^li, 

"Lady Betty " KoorUi began, and slopped awkwardly. The 

thought struck ber suddenly, bow strange it was, that while the hus- 
band w»9 almost denouncing monarohy in the ttouse of Commons, the 
wife ahould be in devoted attendance upon its future representatives. 
Jl seemed to tili of a divergence of nimn and interests ; it Beemcd an 
Igruity. It wa£ sod, iho thought, and it deeitencd in her mind 
th« Inipri'Sidoii — alwnya tbcre, though sometimes argiicil against as 
fouliBb— o( M-rse'i Icnelineas. Lady lietly enjoys everything," she 
ndded; but the words were obviously not those she had been o 
{fftint of uttering, 

"And you too?" he said. "Tea, I think you do. Do you knc 
Th«t, is apite of the wear and tear of foi^hionahle life, you lutla 
Btfongcr and brighter now tlian you did wben I first saw yo 
Englwid — at my own house?" 

•■ Ye8," she answered simply, " I am happier now." 

To him there wm something infiaitely patbetio in her reply, 
was too truthful to hide from him that she hud not been happy, IhaU 
■he was nut ouw quite ha|>py. It touched him etraogcly thiit a' 




114 

ibould not make any fiimay pret-encfl to him. Her stnccrit)' 
hftnuotiy witb the nature of their relntioDship to each other. 
nn unconacious tribute — not to his Tanity, foe he wai not vain — bill lo 
hia manlioeBS. And yet she had never knov^icgly eiven hini tbe lettt 
iDiiight into her married life. KoorMi waa bq loyal, that not eten lo 
her closest friend would she utter one word ia dispamgement of hei 
hiuhand. Morse had heard her, under stress of social neccs^ty, pnt 
on the convenljonal wifely air, say pretty thin^ implying aocold 
between herself aod her husband, and respond outwardly to Cricbton's 
"devoted" manner. All the time be bad known it woa acting, and 
biid felt intuitively that she knew he Gaw through such sad, wifelj'i 
piouB hypocrisy. He had always an impulse to protect her in some 
fasbioB, as though she were a child not understood by its parents, and 
bewildered at boing forced into ao attitude foreign to its nature. Ha 
wanted to take the iitile thing's hand, as it were, and lead ^ernway.and 
let her be her own sweet, truthful self. He felt Ibiui at this momeat. 
Ho could not bold bis voice in restraint, though his words were calm. 

" No, it doesn't satisfy you," he aaid. " You don't care for the sort 
of thing people call ' goiting on in society ' " 

"Oh," eho iuttrrujited impulsively, "the falspness, the seeming to 
be what wo are not — that ia what I cannot bear," Then, as if regret- 
ting her ontburst, she faltered, "I — I mean, Mr. Morse, that we am 
not like you and Lady Betty — it Buits youj it is your right pbice, but 
with us— it all aeems a misiako somehow." 

He looked down upon her. They were on the tomice now. There 
WBB no moon, hut streams of amber light poured out from the windows 
of the library. The river, hemmed in there by the Westminster and 
Lambeth Bridges, looked like a narrow lake ec^ed by biilliant pdnts 
of fire. These, reflected in the water, gave curious strnight Inra of 
light, altcruating with broad and dark lines, crossed here aod there by 
the black outline of some heavy barge. A solitary lamp upon the low 
mast sent out its reQcction like a lengthened flambeau till the shining 
trail was lost in the leaden stillness of the central stream. Furthei 
bock, on the south side, all seemed dusky in contrast, the great block 
of St. Thomas's Hospital lookvd an ill-defined mass dotted witb rush- 
ligUtB, and the grey keep ofLambe th Palace showed solemnly among the 
shadows when a ripple on the water put out the reflected lialits in the 
river and allowed the objects on the shore a better chance of being seen. 

"You have no need to seem o-uj-thing but what you are," he said 
very gravely; "for no one who knows you could misunderstand you. 
But you are right, Mrs. Kenway; it doesn't suit you — this merry-go- 
round sort of existence. I oficn think, when I watch you at parties 
and places, that though you are talking and smiling, and quite In the 
world, you don't really belong to it; and that you would be better 
pleased lo bo witb your children, and"— ho paused for a moment, 
and his voice deepened ever ao slightly — "with your — I mean in your 

She laughed a little jarringly, and her voice trembled too. "I dm'l 



tbtDl 



THE TERRACE. 



', UoTEe. You mastn't think that I am su douicsUc an ibuti 
tbtak I like staying at home yery much." 

There was a silence which lasted several pacds till the? tiimeti ^,~^ 
n their nalk. Morse hid mechanicallj returned the salutation of ■ 
pogaing member, and exchanged a word or two about hia speech thitt 
evening. The member glanced at iKooriUi and raised his bat. H* 
kerned to wish to prolong the converaalion so that an introducUim 
nigbt be elTected; but Morse moved on. 

"I know what you were thinking a minute or tw. .^ , . _ .__ 
ibniptlj. " It struck you that Lady Betty would not hare approved 
if my speech to-night." „^^ 

"Ludj Betty does not think tbnt you are in earnest," KooriiK 
mawered. "^^ 

"Bal you know that I am very much in civriieat,'" lie said gmvely. . 

There was a liitk silence. 

"I wish your words could jiiarce to the very heart of alt ( _ 
■looies," KooTJtli said with emotion. This was her first direct Com-( 
ment on bia speech. 

""Tou liked what I jaid?" ho asked her quito ficriously and gravely, 
if be were talking with a roan. 

"Oh yes. 1 felt every word of it; I agreed in every word. Thafr 
fa our danger; I have long thoui^hl it. We shall become corrupted^ 
irith tbia false glory of war. \Ve shall think we are slinrors of 
Bngl&nd'a strength and fame when we are only becoming conspirators 
Bgauut justice uid mercy. But is it not batd for you to br "- '"* 
partial, being an Englishman?" 

She spoke brightly and without shyness. It was a relief and yet 
a half-admitted disappointment thnt they had gone o(f the m 
IKTSOnal ground. To discuss any generui subject with Morse \ 
iJw^B a great pleasure to her; for even the shortest convcrsatioi) 
■eemed to reveal new meeting-points, new barmoniea. But to know 
tbat he took a deep individual interest in her gave her a curious thrill, 
half of pain, half of delight. She did not analyse the feeling. Sh< 
tihfa&k from acknowledging it, bnt she was conscious of it all thi 
waaa. She was gtad when their intercourse was of a bright happy 
kind, and this was often; for then it was a companionship of mind 
' emperament such as she had never known before in her life. 

"^ey tell me I am anti-English — the papers do," Morse said, t 

imile. " My own fear is that I am rather too much inclined to mako<; 
nn idol of England. I want her to do ri^ht." 

"Some day you will speak with the voice of England," Eoiirill said, 
ler own Toica swelling with entbusinsm. " \ womler if I shall be here 
then; or it we shall have gone back to South. Britain, and I shall only 
read in the papers of all that ia going on in Englami ? Well, I shall 
read with all the more interest bectiuse of what 1 have seen and her-^" 
to-Dlgbt. I shall not forget Ihia," 

"' '|M)0 you will bo here," Morse said, "whatever happens to tl 
' ■times of us and our piirties." 



" Yh; 1 should like to Btay m England for it littlii yut, a 
what haiipcns," Then slie almost caught up lier own word 
hiirriedl}' s-iid, " It is very kind of you, Mr. l^orae, ia take m ■ 
trouble 1 and 1 am delighted ; and I shall always remouber the M 
and your am-f oli ; and 1 Ihiiik 1 must go now." 

"lea; i suppusa you must fp," Morse said, "Is „ 

ftgree on tLe;e qucstiunB, Mrs. EoQway, and I hope we ahall meet q 
Iwfore lung. You will allow me to tome and see you again rn 
■oon?" 

"Oh yes," she aiiHwcred impulsively; "the sooner the bette]." 

She turned her soft dark eyes with a look of almost childlike cun- 
Qdence up to him — she did seem very childlike in face, funn, Htul 
exprossiuii even still— and then be conducted her through stony cwuu 
lud draughty {massages to her carriage, nnd she drove away. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



It must not be supposed that Kooi^lli, on discovering herself to U 
un con genially mated, had sunk at once, into the atiitudo at ftnmt 
incomj'Ti't. A bright imagiuatipe girl, accustomed to suprcniacy, wilh 
idealu and aEjiirAtluns fed by a couriie of romuntiu rending, but with till 
practical l-.nowlcdge of life or human natnre, even of the moht limltd 
kind, she had married under stress of girlish sorrow and disnppoiab- 
meiit, just Bs a child whom its guardians had deserted wight trustindy 
put its hand into that of some kindly speokiag stranger who asA. 
offered to take it home. Eoor^li had never seriously retiecied that she 
might be making a grave mistnlie. She waa a very ignornut and n 
very pure-ndaded giil, and she did not thi[ik much about the obliga- 
tions of marriage, or of marriage itsdf, except as being, she suppo^ 
the ultimate destiny of all women. 
Crichton Kcnway, good-looking and ivell-mannered, wiih a ccctain 

Slitical repute, au assured positiuu that seemed to uti'or a prop in hur 
icliness, and an unlimited self-confidence which impressed Kuorilti 
with n sense of security, attracted her fancy, as was natural enoogli ; 
and he, being very much in love with the Premier's pretty diiugbtuc, 
and maXing a frank display of ujiparently good-humoured it' someivhai 
unheroic devotim, would havesaiislicdagiil leas ignorant ihnn KouriUi 
and with nut so strong a craving for sympathy aud atfectlon. 

They were engaged only for a mouih or two. bhe bad very little 
time for self -analysis. Occe^onally she ielC a faint qualm of duubt tui 
to whether this were tlie nil-absorbing love, the perfect kinship of 
heart, aoul, and rplrit, of which la poetic moments she had dreamed ; 
but when she 6[iuko uf thia to Crichton, ho always soothed her with 
the hackneyed assurance thut love in its fullest sense id t« a woman 
an impussibiiity before marriage. £ven at that time Koorilli hud 






Sb^'fra, «>»°'?\„Vii. "irv'jUb"; ft o" p»»»' t 




i(» 'THE sfBirt ■mmotfiatsa:' 

(jent things wcrro ordered thus, and thus only, and ^hat ti 

tha cul''^>'ci"''^ '''^^ v^ crime fsr more hciaous than to tell « lid 

to commit n raean action. Her pride revolted agaioBt KenwT 

sarcatna, -which Beemed iotended to remind her tA the inferiorilf 

her origin. When fhs bad bruught bereelf into a cmiditioa of \ 

eoduniice, or evaa contempt, which is in Boma sort a Batisractim . 

wnse of content vaa boring. She fdt tliis fiishion of intercourse^ 

slow elaivalion of heart and spirit. She learned to plea 

boueekeeper, but this did not much mend matters. 

a stato of serene content after a dinner which he had enjoyed m 

KoorilU no more of a companion than Ktnway in a state of w 

He was one of the husbands who, consciuus of Laving but a limitrf*, 
stock of interest in intellectual subjecta, eeonomioally keeps whaWTtr 
Btore of knowledge he may posiess for use outside his domcatic cirttc 
He dill not like to see hia wife read. He liked lier to be at hla bnk 
and calL He did not care to talk about books, or even about politics, 
except from the personal point of view. k. natiooal question was of 
lio vital interest to him in itrelf, though In the l^ialatiro chamber M | 
at a Government House dinner-party lie could enlarge very glibly en 
the glory and honour of South Britain. He could always be intenBely ■ 
patriotic when that waa to his own advanlage. But a question as la 
the possibility of serviog himself by means of "back-stairs" influent 
be felt to ba of real importance, and Koorlli's first thrill of repugnancy 
first bewildered realization of the gulf between them, waa caused by bti 
husband's revelation of himself under this aspect. 

KooriUi's short married life had lieen a succession of painful sbocki 
and struggles — vain efforts to reconcile the inward with the outward, the 
ideal and ihe real, cndiug at last in a sjrt of dazed acquiescence. Shfl 
had been ill for a long time after the birth of her second boy, and body 
and mind reacted upon one anothfi'. She got into a way of taking life 
as it came, and of not reasoning about iL She began to believe that 
ahe was really stnpid and wanting iu common sense, as Crichton bo often 
told her, and that he had reasouable cau^e for complaint. She bad 
almost lost her girlish euthuaiaara, her giilish capacity for enjoyment. 
It often seemed to her that the " Little Queen," tko rx>mnutio child 
who had bod such firm faith in nobility, goodness, and happiness, had 
died before her own weddlug day. It was all a mistake. Life was 
cold and colourless. Pimty of motive, high ^ma, love — except the 
love between mother and child — wore all illusions. There were no 
thrilling emotions, save such as thiilled with pain ; and tlmt poju ao 
unheroic, haviiig its apriogs in what u-as so pour and mean and petty! 

Thus things were, when Ktnwftiy, allei a ^ort period of comparative 
impecuniosiiy aod of fifthting on the Opposition benches, receiTod the 
appointment of Agent-Gtencral. Middlemial's party came into powar„jii 
aud Middlemiat was able to gratify bis EOn-in-Iaw's ambition to fUaiSl 
England, at the expense of South Britain. But Middlemist \ 
tottering, and Kenway knew, when ho accepted the Agent-Genet ' 
tbat his own tenure of office might bo a short one. Any teleg 



ievpalch mi^ht cootaln the aevrt of his downrall. He kecw alrcndy 
mhi wuulil be hi" EticcCfior. ]□ chat case, fnilin^ Moiae'a iMtroiiagc 
Mid th« lucrative Eoglisli appcintcient on nhkli he n <w deiKici^ocI, it 

a open to him to drag on existence ia London or the country bs liout 
_._ cnijbt on the email income nrising from AuRlralian invcBtmentB thAt 
he could not realize, aa be would tiavo liked to do, or to gn back a;!ain 
to South Britain, and once miH-s Torce Ijimself into place. Ue hod 
cdculnted risks, and was prepared to play a bold gamt'. 

So tbey had "come home," as iho Kiyiog is. Ouly sucb ati entire 
tbasge of Bcone and of the circumatsQceB of her 1 fa as this ivaa could 
* 'T« troiised Kooi^i from ihe nun bed condition into wliich she had 

ien. And the 8]>rijigs had begun to move, tihu who bad bi)cic<l 

Lt eTorylhing was over for h«r fomid that her real natuio was only 
eUBiog into play. 

KiX'tXIi watched with the cl'isest atlcnlinit all tliat the naw |>niuiiri|- 
arooud her. 'ilie Eoglasd which she was looking on was so like, atxl 
BO unlike, ihc- Kngland of her dreiima, IliQt aha bnrdly knew whi'ther 
' I was F>lea«ed or disappointed. In some waya it was diaappuintiiig. 

EWined lo her like a tnpeatry of which the coloura hod failed. Thi'rt; 

B a want of freahneBa. The eociety abe roinglcd with appeared to 
lie {rnicefiilly outworn. There wns a lack of enorgy, of intcrc9>t, of 
aymfathy. Sbo felt at first not merely that sho Has alona in the 
intdst of il, but that every one clae aeemcd al»na also, tihe grew to 
like Lady Betly. She felt tenderly grateful to her ; but she oiiuld not 
open her henrt.sbo thought, lo Lrtdy Betty. It api«ared to her aume- 
tuKT that if she had anything to tuiy which was long in the telling, 
Ijady Betty would not be able quite to keep up her interest in it. 
Iiady Betty was evidently of a xympsthetic nature, but the sympathy 
bad nothing very partitular In it ; ehe was able to put herself at 
aaea iDt« general aynipathy with every one ; but it did not get much 
deeper wi(h one than with another. 

Of the men of her circle Kooriili liked Lord Arden porhapa best. 
She felt already as if she had kaown him for years. He evidently 
liked her too, and cnmo to aee her whenever he pleased. 

Uorse she did not ciosa quite with other men. Ue seemed to belong 
to her old life — to her dreamy gir1hiK>d. In regard to him, it was not 
a mere quostiou of iikiug; the sense of companionship with hiui was 
too Btrong. She felt for him the wannest admiration. Ue had not 
dunppdnted her. Ue was exactly what ihe would have wished him 
to he. He wss strong, he was brsve, he was independenL lie had 
evidently a heart full of generous huninn feeling. Ho seemed to 
Kooi41i'a entbusiasni a man to lead a state ; to lead a nation. She 
wdmirvd his complete self-possei-sian ; bis undisturbed cabitness. Tho 
dd Napoleonic idea ab-mt him caine bock to her mind now sod then ; 
buteha did not now think him like Napoleon. Ue seemed far toi> 
untelQeh; too much of a patriot. Sbo was in truth quito ready U\ 
make a hero of Morse; all the more eo as his a woet composed manner 
lowanls herself, always friendly and sympathetic, was never demoDstra- 



'TUB niOKT WOliomeM&H'' 



m 



tn\ aod though occavooally bo showed her that he in his tnnid 
nitercdheraii itniuvedfrutn the crowd, he left ber free to think any ty 
■he liked about him. Bho might have been afraid to allow herscll .„_ 
ideelise other men ; but for Murse it did not matter. She nouU OQI 
let berseir thick it inattered. Ue Eeciit<.-d to eUnd hish above tkidkb, 
and apart from them BomehotT — Buch at least were Kooritli's Ideu — 
it'WM nothing mure than a sort of duty that a woman sbouid look 
lip to him with admiration. She understood him so well, she ihoupIlL 
He liked her; that wns clear. It was a sort of taoit undei^tandui; 
butweea them that Bhe was to Jiim a link with the past- -a put ul 
unruililled dreams, perhaps, lilie her own i and ehe was gratified by 
the knuwledge, ^be had been so long misprized in a csrtaia waib, 
that il was the lifting up of lier Bclf-reB|iect again nut of the werlJly 
mire when ii mau like Sdudhaia Morse biiuwcd that ho tbit respect bit 

On the whole Kot^iili wna now almoiit happy. She enjoyed tba 
)<Hgeant, even when it sometimes diiia|)pointcd ner; though she wu < 
galled now and then b; the senw of a false poeiiioD, and this aUMt 
when in Crichton's company, it V'-as, neTertheleBc, delightful to li«t 
to mix. wiih all these bright clever men and women, and lo bo accepted 
as an equal, even regarded as a favourite among thorn. She had not 
been so bappy before since her miurriago. H:.t husband and alia wera 
getting on much better now than had been their way fur long btfore. 
He left her more alone, thougii, while j>he was unaware of it, he 
watched her closely. Ho folt that he had struck a wrong cboid in 
their conversation upon the day of the Federation debate; awl for the 
present threw out no more insiauations in regard to Lord Coulmoot or 
other influential admirers. He saw that he had shocked her. Thit 
would under ordinary circumBlancas have given him no uneasiness; 
but he was careful not to do so further, lest Jiis plnoa about Uoru 
might receive a check. So thing:} were going smooilily on the whole; 
and he was loss irritable. Uia debts did not press so heavily upon 
him. The bank had refused to advance the sum he lajnired, and be 
had been oUigtd lo have recourse to a money-lender. He iind tried 
ti> get a loan out of Eustace, who had remsJued languidly im|>ervioua 
to bints. Zonobia, however, having gat an inkling of hia embarrass- 
ineot, sent him in the prettiest manner a cheque for several hundreds. 
Zenobia said nut a word of this to KoorUi, or any one else, nor did 
Crichlun. His manner to his siater-in-lnw changed very much. He 
tieated her to a sljle of exuberant friendliness; but the Utile trans- 
action made no dillerenco in the cont«mpt he expressed lor her when 
his rL'marks were not likely to reach her ears. 

KourMi thought he was greatly improving; she even began to ask 
herself generously whether she had not been must in fault aU through. 
Yes i she was almost happy. 

Morse's feelings towards Kuorilli were curiously compounded. 4 
intuition concerning them was a true one. Tlkey were perfumel 
a memory of youth ; they had in them tlio recollection of tlie " " 



koto 

btorl ^1 



'■SHALL I CO TO SEE HERJ' ti^ 

feelinga that die in youth's brief mom," as SboUey wyfi. Kotiiii's wu 
k Uviiig form from a bright time n'hea life was atltl in its oponing for 
him. Besides this ha Sidmired her much. He was ia a Etrangc, 
hulf-uncgiisciouB waj in sympathy with her ; he was pleased with her 
frank outspoken conQdeDce ia him. and admiration for him ; and be 
knew well that slie was not happy. Uorse was a man of the world. 
Mid would have understood, of course, if he had put the question to 
himself, tbnt it would not do for him lo admire this beautiful young 
Australian woman too much, or to be with licr excoj't in the moat 
wdinary and commonplace sort of way. But he hod not the least 
iDcIination to pay her any marked attentiou of the kiod that socisly 
cmnments upon. He was sincerely anxious to make her time in 
London as pleasant as poBslbie fur her, and he was glad for her sako to 
oouit the companionship of her huHband. He b^l n strong idea that 
they did not get on very well together, and it seemed to him llmtj * 
woman's respect for her husband ia often increased by the 
which others show to him. So Morse was very attentive to C 
Ke&WAy, whom nit the while bo did not greatly like. But Konway 
had'impreBSBd him with a Bense of capacity and litnesa, and Morse 
often thought that if ever be get a chance of making such nn upjioint- 
loent, Eenwny would be a remarkably good man for some permanent 
place in connection with the colonies. 

Ja a prudent, well-meaning man, who is no longer young, bound lo 
avoid the company of a married woman the moment he begins to foel 
any special interest in her, the moment that ebo seems to take an 
espedal interest in bini ? Can there be no frieodsbip between a woman 
aiid a man ? Is it all the " fire and tow " principle in wliich Cricbton 
Kenway faitlifiilly believed? Morse certainly was not a man ti 
believe naturally in this ignoble doctrine. He had no feeling towarda 
KoorLli, as yet, which might not have been laid bare to Lady Betty, 
and have had Lady Betty's cordial approval and sympathy, Biill. 
after the evening on the terrace, he had some little doubt nowanl 
then ns to wiietbcr he oiigbt to go and see KoorMi at her house so 
frequeotly, even when sometimes Lady Betty suggeslcd the visit. 
Out the chief reason for bia doubt was not because he was afiaid of 
blling in love with KocrUi, or of her falling in Jove with him. 
About this latter )X)Ssibility he nevi.'r thouglit at all ; only he aslied 
himself wbothcr it would be well to get into a habit of calling on 
EooHlli and to encourage his inicrest in her, seeing that she might 

Khack to the colonies agtun, and then he should miss her, and should 
ve put on himself a needless pain. Of course, if her husband could 
^t a permanent appointment, he nnd she would staji in London. 
But, then, would it lie well to admit that idea into hia mind ? Wonld 
it lie well lo allow himself to tbinlc tliat a permanent place for Mrs. 
Kenway's husband would keep Mrs. Kenway in London, and enable 
hia to call and have a talk wiih her every now and ihen ! 

" Shall I go to see her ; shall I nol go ? " Morse was one day asking 
ofhimself. Why should he not go ? Im 1lioii;;lit; wrui it not -' * — 



"7W£ RIGHT HONOURABLE' 

nee to her even to buitat^ , to r^se any queetion on the tabjcd 
She was a dcnr friend; \vhy allow fluch profnnatiiiD to th? bIhv 
nuU Baerednesa of their frkiid«hip na wm implii'd evun in the ndC 
tory doubt whether he would Dot do belter by keepicg awiiy from bl 
And yet J and yet 

■White ho waa thinting, sotni' thing oiUly deoidid for him. 
Dotty brought a young and eiith'JsJHatic girl of eighteen, a fiie 
hers, juat come out, to ace Morse. MorM hwl not met her befora A 
she wae a child. He hnd irrown to be a gre.it man in her eetiTDml 
and was Indeed her es]>ecial political hero. When tliey bfld tftlkef I 
soma time, and ahe waa going, he held out hia hand, anil th 
young enthuaiflfit suddenly eicbiimed, " Oh, Lady Betty — plea 
I kisa him ? " 

I liy all means," Lady Betty replied, I 
the girl kias^ him, blushiog ciimBdl 



" My dear child, kiss Uii 
unused and delightal. Si 
faer own audncioita impulae 

Kow, what had thia pli 
JuBt this much. "Come," Mi 



incident to do with Koo 

_ , _.. to himaelf, "that BettIe«iL~l_ 

longer anything but an elderly man. He whom pretty glrli 
offer to kisB ia beyond the time of acandal. I am growing oli 
Nothing could make this more clear to my luind than that volunteer 
kisR. I may go and see any woman; it does not matter th " 



CHAPTER XT. 

KEtiWAY ACTB THE HBBO. 

Ohk momins;, a few dnys before Goodwood, Cricht/>n Kenway cwne 
into hia wife's room while ahe was dressing. She bad risen rather late 
after a bull. He waa pale with anjer and anxiety. He held a newa- 
paper in his hand, and without preface or comment, except a low 
mattered oath, read aloud a telegram from Australia. It waa to the 
effect thiit the legislative chamber of t'outh Britain had passed a 
Tote or want of Gonfiilence in the Miildleniiat G[>Tommont, that Mr. 
Middlemiat ha 1 resigned, and that Sir James Burgess, chief of tlie 
Opposition ai.d of the anti-squat ting party, had fonned a Mimstry, 

Criehton's cttimness did not last long. Kootlli had iiresently to 
Ibiien to a low torrent of irrational abuse directed against her father, 
who "might hare held on a little longer;" against Australian corrupt 
prftfltiees, against corrupt English practices, against democracy abroad 
Had conservatism at home, against the tardy elections, jbgoism.Moise. 

KoorUi's face whitened. It has bean aaid that Crichtoa Kenway 
could Bwear so aa to bit hard without lifting bis voice. 

" What has Mr. Morse to do with it V " ahe aaked, her spirit rising. 

" Juat this, as you know very well, only it suits you to play the 
'defile me not' jiart. He baa promised me an appointment if ho 
comes into power; and ray future — and youra— defends upon bow he 



KENWAY ACTS THE HERO. 

I irith the tide^upon whether he Lecomua Prime KliniBter a 

" He will not Bwim with the tide," KoorMl answered, her 
pTins out a proud littie flash. " He will breast iL" 

"You think CO?" exclttimod Crichton in a dilTerent tone. 
talks to you of his prospects — of what is (KinK on behind the » 
E know tiiat he oftea viiteB to you Troni the House. You onn give ■! 
pie«e all to his cbaoceaof coming in? He believes himselr safe, thcn?"^ 

KooiUi looked at her husband with the faintest expresiioa of con-M 
tempt OD her fac«. It was minted with vngiie alarm. ■ 

"I don't understaad yon, Crichton. It pnlna roe to henr you spealcfl 
ta tbat way, for you cannot re,il!y mean it. 1 am very sorry that yotifl 
tre so dietressed and Bn<;r7. I knovr that it is n venous matter for ua|| 
but for a long lime we have had to iace the thought of it ; we kaewa 
that it was coming." r 

" It has come at a confoundedly inconvenient time," rotum&i Ken-^ 
way. "Three moiitha benco it woald have mntturwl Irsa. How n» 
•yn to carry on now? I can tell you that your London life has come 
to SD end." 

" We might live at the Grey Manor," said KoorMi, " It could not 
cost so much there, and wc have still our own money — from Auatralin." 

"Which will go a long way — in payinp interest to the Jews — ia 
keeping up a staff of servants, hunters, and all that. You don't biI|i- 
pD«e that I am ^oing to live tike a beggarly parson, within two niilee 
of my younger brother and — the family estate — driving a ono-horse 
trap, with a parlour-maid to wait, and a groom taken out of tha _ 
cabMge garden ? " J 

EoorSJi was silent. \ 

"Well," said Kenway, "you haven't answered my question. Ill 
b<re a strong notion that you know something of Morse's plans. Doad 
lie oonmder himself safe?'* 

" Safe ? " Koorili echoed. " I don't know what you are aiming at; 
Crichton. I don't tliink I want to know. Mr. Morao must always be 
saTe, for ha will never act against hia convictions of what is right and 
itnal for England, I am sure of that. As for his chnnee of beinj; Prime 
'HioUter, how should I know what he thinks? Ho docs talk tome 
sometimes of politics—! am proud tlmt be does not tliink me loo 
fltut;Hd to gympathizB with his aims — hut not iu that sort of personal 
way. Wiat does office matter to him? And if ha did tell me the 
Berrcts of his party, should I be likely to betray thero, even to ray 
husband?" There was an amount of scorn in KoorMi's tone. "Mr. 
Hone will not join the war party because iss wisli to stay in England, 
or because he luiH promised you an appointment if he gets into power. 
But I can't quite think that ia so," Her eyes met Eeuway's steadily. 
" Ea» he promised you an appointment, Crichton ? " 

"It is an understanding," replied Crichton sullenly. "You are a 
fo(d to BUpposa that public men ever commit themselves. A word or 
two convej'n a great deal. Such things are geKOtBiUy understood." ™ 



''THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 






Eoorllli did not answer. She eot up from where she had 
seated before the toilet taMe. She had diEmiHi^ her maid 
Crichttrn'a entrsDcii, and hod gone on herself with the coiling (. 
hiiic round her sleek little head. It suddenly struck Crichton ihat bii 
wife looked purticuUrlj well in the soft white cnBhmare robe she wore, 
with ilB delicate frilla aod triimning of lace. There came iolo his face 
a look which abe had Been there nrnro than once lately, and which 
gave her a feeling of repulsion, she knew not why, for shij would Del 
let herself try to trace the workinga of his tniniL She saw the look 
now, reflected in the gliiaa before her. 

"What do]roii call that thing youVe got on?" he said. "A kind 
of tea-grown, isn't it? Anyhow, it's lery becoming. Yoa ahould 
wear something hke it next lime Morse cornea to see you. What have 
1 said to shock your sensitive nerves? Ladies wear tea-gowns, don't 
they?" 

Uer lar^e dark ryes, full of trouble and indignant appeal, wluch 
were turned quickly upon him, startled him. Her lips were quivering, 
and he saw thnt she was trembling. A horrible sensation ol insecurity, 
of utter loneliness, of revolt hod come over lier. She could not coio- 
mand heraelf, 

"EoorMi, what is the matter?" he exclaimed. 

She had flung herself upon the sofa at the foot of the bed, and with 
her arms thrown over the bock of the eofa, and her face buried iu 
them, was shaking with suppressed sobs. She did nut reply, and the 
Iri'rabling grew more violent. Crichton was a little alarmed. It was 
not like KoorU to lose 8elf-c(>ntrol completely. 

Ha went to her and tiied to soothe her, showing some genuine 
nnxiety. " Come, don't give way like this. I didn't mean to Mgliteii 
you about things. It's a bad look-out for us juat now, but wo shall 
pull through all ripht. The seasun is over, luckily, and we should go 
down to the Grey Manor anyhow. And I can't be kicked out till t^e 
other man comes. Perhaps by that time Morse will be in, a id I shall 
be a deuced sight better off than if I were lumging at the Leela of a 
colonial Government. Don't cry, 1 hate it. Haven't you got more 
pluck?" 

His remonslrancea brought no answer in words, but her trembling 
abated a little. 

"I know what it is," continued Crichton. " You are lijelerical and 
overdone with all the going out. If you keep quiet for a bit you will 
be better. Lie down, and let me put a shiiwl j u. 

Be awkivardly tried to alter her position. Sh m d tion of 

entreaty that he would leave her. lie went a ay ha angry 
protest. When he came back a little later be as tt g p, and 
was tolerably compoasd. Bho trot up aa he ente cd 

"Thank you," she said. "I am b-tter n Ira sorry t liaTe 
made a scene. It isn't my way, is it? But J u bt I am 

overdone with too much going out. I shall bo ■j If a.^a p simtl] 
t'ha made no aUusion to tlieir convetaatiin or to xW lawtbi ' 



ntl y.y- ,'| 

1 






KENWAY ACTS THE HERO. 



.(-.iWea them, nor did he After a few moments he lefl 
„ She heard him calling to Lonco, -who was his favourite, fa 

Bome duwii and amuaa him whilst he hreakfaated. Lance n 
Iktlisr something between a poodle and a court jester. And littlo] 
Uil«g stole in " ta see beautiful mamma dresBwI." He koow his falh«f 
A'A not want him. 

When Uorsa cams to sea Koorilll tlinC nftcrnoon, he «air that 9)w| 

IS anxious and that sompthio,; hnd occurred to IrouMe her. 
guessed what it was, for be had read the telegram from South DritniiLi 
that morning. 

He did nut say anything about it to KooriUi; he did i 
Rbether she would care to talk at»uC it. Ub had an JnFtinotiti 
Imsretsiau that the best way to get a sensitive iroman out of a feellQI 
lAaet own troubles is to tell her of the troubles of others, and bvL 
therefore started off at once in a half-jest nbole-earnest dissertation o»fl 
the dlfficultiea that were Doming over and clouding his own path iiM 
jKtIitics. The country was about to be swept awny by the war-passion, \ 
he told her. No influence, be feared, could stand up against it ; but he ^ 

going to try his best. He would rather give up public life alto- 
getfaer, he declared, than have anything to do with countenancing or 
■sncUotiing this war. But he meant \a make a good fight of it before 
lie gave up public life. 

"FethapB if you stay in England »ome little ti 
way, you may see mo the most uD|K)pular mitn ii 

"But you won't mind that?" she tairt, with llghtiug eyes, a 
gietting for tha moment all about South Britain. 

"I sbaa't like it," Morse replied. "We none of us like to \ 
nnp^nilar ; but I shall go on all the same." 

"Te^ I know," Koorili siiid. " Ifou would go on all the same." 

Horse smiled. " Do you know," he said, " that there are people who:! 
know me, and pretty well too, and who say ihstlsliHll not goon alt thtfl 
" have been a very popular man, and I enjoy popularity and'C 
power, and 1 shall perhaps have a great chance soon put iu my way — ' 

" After the eleotioua ? " 

"Yes ; after the elections. I see you ara beginning to undcrstanil 
ill About our affairs. Qiiite so; after the elections. Then they sb; 
that I will accept my great chances and forget my theories about tttt 

ti. Some people who know mo i^titty well say that of mi 

She looked at him straigbtly. 

"To know one pretty well is just not to know one ftt all. I knoi^ 
yon won't change." 

TLev wore slauding near each other. He ' ' ' 
Mively EuorMi put out her hand. Ho louK !l 

■" UTiank jou," be eaid quietly, 
oineiiiing in his lone made iier ayes fall, and she withdi 
liand. She began to fuar tihe hnd said too much about hi 
fur lierself. Just at timt momont, hi 





i;6 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

Kenway tks he entcreil scut a keen gkace al Morse aoA at B 
Tlien he ndvanced with eLutic step snd » stn-t of chtwry daliBnaA 
bill briglit, e»cr-movin!! ejes. 

"Chucked tgain!" he eald. " Ynu've heivrd the ni 
We're out on the worli ngain, Knnrili and I,'' 

** Yes, 1 have ItcorJ the news,"' MorBe said, " I didn't like to ^ 
to Un. R«ntvay about it. I thout;ht perhaps ahe would t 
didn't. So I have bean toUio" her uf my own Iroublos." 

" Ob, Knor^li ia a plucky littla woman ; she wou't miud. 
mind. We've been tlirough worse tbinga before, haven't we, (tiflT 
know I have plenty of capacity and courage and all that, and I slmll 
make a wny for myself here or tbere — here, I think. Wo shall be all 
right. It's a facer for the toomciit! but one comea up aroiliDg and 
rutdy for aootber round. People Lalk uf ruin staring ihem iu iha face 
I have always found that if you -only stiiro boldly back you ciin piit 
ruin out of counteuance. I have done it before, aud I mciui to do it 
again. So that's oil about that ! '* 

Kenway put down on the table a little packet of fapers with a 
detenuiura, busiueBS-like air. Ho pincod himxeir against the chimney- 
piece, and stood, bis lung neck uprcared, loidiiug at Mur^e m if ready 
Tor any fate. He }daycd his part well, find Morse was impressed. 

Koorlli looked up athim wilh a eerlain wonder. After aO, was there 
not something brave, manly, admirable about him? She had surely 
not done liim full justice. She found her eyes growing moist at the 
thought, in the hopa that fho really could adraira him. What did it 
matter if they lost everything, so long as the very loss itself brought 
out what was best in bim? Was not that to gmn and not to lose? 
"The moment Mr. Morse Roea," she said to herself, "I'll bisB him I " 

"You take it pluckily," Morse said, with a smile. "But you are 
really quite right; you nave notliing to fear. You have talents, and 
you have friends. I can s^teak for oue friend, if he should ever have 
anything in his power." 

KoorUi cast a grateful glance nt Morae, and then (At a little abashed 
somehow, and feared she might tie miauodemtooil. Her gratefulness 
was for Morse's appreciation of her husband's ciiura:e and capacity, and 
not at all for his promise to befriend them. She would rattier, some- 
how, that they fought their battle fi)r themselves, or with the help of 
some of those on whose friendship Kenwny had older and stronger and 
other claims. And then it struck her ihat when she had doubted her 
husband's account of Morse's implied intention to get him an appoint- 
ment, she had wronged Crichtou a little, and she felt still further 
remorseful. 

When Morse was gone, Kofrili was true to her purpose. She went 
up to Kenway, put her anns round his neck, called liim tenderly, " my 
husbnnd," and kissed him. If nb that touching and tender moment 
in her history Crichton Kanway could only have understood the true 
meaning of that kiss ; of the littla it asked for, the much it promised; 
the meaning of the words that called bim her husband, and " ' 



tb^ 



KEmVAY ACTS THE HEkO. 



tMeivA a new and an abiding union of hpart nnd faith and lile \ 
could have uudersUiod what Ihat new offer of a wifr'a devotion a. 
Biid if ho could have appreciated all and accepted all — there woiilil ■ 
but little to Icll about ttiF rest of these two lives nhich caxHA inteitf 
the reader df fiction. But Kenuny loi>kpd siirjirisrd, incrcdulouj 
iheo retorned her kiss with interest, I'iled up Invisljly in Dumbera m 
in wartnib, until RooiMi n dually felt ccim]ellcd to dUcngsge ' 
from his arms, and lie aaid — 

" Why, Koorili, I do declare you nre a goi d eirl nfter nil, anil I i 
belieTe you care about me, 1 do believe wu shall get on well tcjgetl« 
i declare I feel quite in love with you ! " 

" Oh, let us get on well ttigeibcr," alic said fin-cnlly. " 1 Iiopo t^ 
prsy that we may; I think we eLibII, now. 1 lun glad you take ) 
this so -wel), CrichtoD," ' 

" Yes ; I think I did that well, ICoorUi," lie paid in the tone of ft 
-who begins to feel that he tnay be confidential. "1 think I've 
Uorse ; 1 am sure of it. There was a Etroko of genius in ilvit." 

" A stroke of genius in what, Ciichton ? " 

" Well, y(.u know, I eaw at once that Morse is just the si.rt of ftll^ 
who is greatly taken by pluck and energy and a Btout stand-up agaJl 
fortune and odds and bo forth; and I put myself in position ace 

ingly. It took him at once, didn't it?" he ai^kcd triuraphflntly ; " 

I know I cat) count on him now. Hell stand by me. He would liaVH 
cared nothing about me if 1 had let him see that I waa down in the 
month, We aball be all right, KooiMi; you'll see; you'll 5 nd." 

"I hope BO," Koorlli Eaid in a melancholy, faltering tone. The note 
of diitmat was Bounded again, " I hope wo sliall be all right." ' ^_ 

Be looked at her inquiringly. ^H 

"In our lives, I mean; you and I. In our ways to each other; ^H 
our leelingn," KonriLli explained. ^H 

"Oh yea ; we shall bo all right enough," he said carelessly. ^1 

EoorJllTs spirits sank ; her mind miEgnve her. 

The seoBcn was drawing to a cl-ose. Tet a little, and the ligbt on 
the pinnscle of the Clock Tower would ceuse to shine of nights over 
London. Terhajs there may have been some oynicnl persons who 
held that the lantern of the light eo scon to be put out was a ^mbol 
of the rarliamcnt Bo soon also to be put out ; being showy, for-f-hining, 
and empty. London itself might then be compared, hy some funoilui 
person, to the Cyclops in Virgil — 

" ItonetTiiin iDronnc, ingfiiB, cci Iiinitra ademptam." 
<*A ruoustcr, liiujictces, huge, whose ligbt bud been put o 
The last Sandown meeting had taken plate, ucd the f 
toUettes, their S;^t freiihneaa gone, and the tired look on the facei of 
tliinr weai'ert, had somehow given to the crowded slope the appearance 
rf a garden in which the (lowera were overblown and drooping. Good- 
Wood was over, too. There was a suggestion of satiety about Lopdonil j 



facei of I 
pearance 
;. Good- 
I Lopdonil f\ 



Ii8 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

UQQt tbiugs were ar^red Urns, and thus onlj*, and tbat to troniiEiMi \ 
the gostrOQomic code was crime far more lieiiious than to tell n lie oi 
to commit n mcnn EUition. Her pcide revolted againet Genwaj'a 
I' ' Aarcajtnfl, nhich seemed ictended to rcmiod her df the inferionty d 

her origin. When Hhe had brought hcreelf into n condition of quiet 

I endurance, or even contempt, which is in some sort n satisfactioc, the 

■mse of coBtest was boring. She ftlt this fiiEhion of intercourse to ba 
■low gtaivation of heart and spirit. She learned to please him as & 
bouEelceper, but this did not much mend matters. Kenway in 
a stitto of serene content after a dinner which he had enjoyed wm to 
Koorkli no more oF b companion tbon Kenway in a state of wtatlL 
He was one of the husbands who, conrcioua of having but a limited 
stock of interest in intellectual subjects, economically keeps whatever 
store of knowledge he may posieas for use outside his domestic circlfti 
He did not like to sse his wiTo read. Be liked lier to be at his back 
and calL He did not care to talk about books, or C7on about politici, 
except from the personal point of view. A national quostirm was of 
HO vital interest to him in itself, though in llie legislative chnmber or 
at a Government House dinner-party he could enlarge very gliUy on 
the glory aud honour of South Britain. He could always he intenselj 
patriotic when that was to his own adrantage. But a question as to 
the possibility of serving himself by means of " back-st4ur3 " inflneniw 
be felt to be of real importance, and Koorihii's first thrill of repugnance, 
first bewildered realization of the gulf between them, was caused by her 
husband's revchition of himself under this aspect. 

Eoor^i's short married life had been a succession of painfnl ehocks 
and stnigglca — vain oIForts to reconcile the inward with the oulwnH, ths 
ideal and the real, ending at last in asirt of dazed acquiescence. Sho 
had been ill for a long time after the birth of her second boy, and body 
and mind reacted upon one anotht'i'. Sho got into a way of taking life 
as it came, and of not reasoning about it. She began to believe that 
aha was really stupid and wanting in common sense, ns Crichtoo aooflen 
told her, and that he hnd reasoaable caupe for complaint. She liad 
almost lost her girlish enlhusianni, her girlish capacity for enjoyment. 
It often seemed to her that the " Liitle Queon," the romantic child 
who hEid had such firm fnicli in nobilitj-, goodness, and hiippiness, had 
died before her own wedding day. It was all a mistake. Life was 
cold and colourless. Purity of motive, high dms, love — except the 
love between mother and child^— were all iiluaiona. There were Be 
thrilling emotions, save such as thiilled with pain; and that piun so 
unheroio, having its spiiogs in what naa so poor and mean and petty I 

Thus things were, when Ktnway, after a short period of comparatire 
)mpeouniosi[y and of fi<;hling on the Opposition benches, received the 
appointment of Agcnt-Gonoral, Uiddiemist'it party came into power, 
and Middlemist was able to gratify bis EOn-in-mw's ambition to visit 
England, at the ex|«nse of South Britain. But Middlemist i 
tottering, and Konnay knew, when he accepted the Agent-Genenil:' 
that his own tenure of office might bu s. bIuki one. Any telegraj 






"SHALL I GO TO SEE HERf 119 1 

lespatch mij^bt contain the news or liie downfall. Eo knew already 
Vho would be hi" sucoesBor. In that cas*, fniling Moi-se's patronagn 
HbA the lucrative English appointment on which he n''W depended, it 
B Open to him lo drag on existence In London nr the ci^untrj as beat 
mi jht on the small income arising from AuHlralinn investmente that 
could not realize, as he would hnva liked to do, or tu go back ajiaiii 
South Britain, and once more force liimself into place, Ue bad 
ealculaied risks, and was prepart'd to play a bold gain?. 

" they had "come home," na Iho saying is. Only auch an entire 
ge of^cene and of the circumstaH'ceB of her 1 fe as iliis ivaa could 
aronsed KooriLli from ihe numbed condition into whicli she had 
1. And the eprings had begun to move. Khe who had fiincicd 
ETCfything was over lor her fuuod that her real natui'e waa only 
Bg into play. , 

KocrUi watched with the closest atienliim all that she saw pissine A 
wind her, 't'he England which she was lookitig ou was so like, and I 
jo unlike, ihc- Kngland of her dreiiras, that she hnrdly knew whether 
the waa pleaxed or disappointod. In some ways it was dianjixuintiag. 
ieemed to faer like a tapestry of which the colours had faded. Tbete 
i a want of ffeshnew. Tho society t-he mingled with appeared to 
pttcefidly outworn, 'i'here waa a lack of energy, of ntterost, of 
■j^Bipntby. She felt at first not merely thnt xhu naa alone in tiie 
Uidatof it, hut that every one else seemed alnne also. She grew to 
Qibks Lady Betty, She felt tenderly grateful to her ; but aho ci^uld nut 
^pea her hearC.she thought, to Lady lietty. It appeared lu her some- 
how that if she hod anything to aay wbich was long in ti:e telling, 
jody Betty would not he able quits to keep up her interest in it. 
idtdy Betty was evidently of a eympathetio nature, hut the sympathy 
ad nothing very particular in it ; she waa able to put hcraelf at 
"KB into general Rympathy with every one ; but it did not got muiih 

3ier with one than with another. 
f the men of her circle Koorili liked Lord Arden perhaps best, 
he felt already aa if she harl known him for years, fie evidently 
ked her too, and came lo see her whenever he pleased. 
UorBs she did not class quite with other men. Uo seemed to belong 
I bar old life — to her dreamy girlhood- In regard to him, it was not 
mere quostion of liking ; the f<enae of companionship with him wns 
)0 strong. She felt for him tbe warmest admiration. Ue had not 
Uaaj^inted hor. Ua was exactly wbat ahe would have wished him 
lo b«. fie waa strong, be wna brave, he was independenL He had 
evidently a heart full of generous human feeling. He seemed to 
KooAli'i enthuainstn a man to lead a state ; to 1^ a nnt:on. She 
^mired his coniptet« setf-poBGe^aioii ; bis undiaturbed calmness The 
*"■' Napoleonic idea abiui him oame back to her mind now and then ; 
^^ , aha did not now think him like Napoleon, Ue seemed far too 
tnaelfiah; too much of a patriot. She was in truth quite ready to 
iieiteahero ofUorss; all ths more so aa his sweet com pose -1 manner 
loiTOrdf heraelf,alwaj'a frieudlyand sympathetic, was aeverclemooatra- 



I 



B turoGJ 

■■>°jit kk«« bocn Afnid to aUovi h 

" it did net uintler. She nouU n 

tKi to Uaod liigh Above t^ooiai, 

«( least were KoorUi's (de«a— 

anrt of dotj litat t, vamaa shoiiU luuk 

Sbe vsdentood bim so well, sbe thonjilil. 

, .. __ __ _ _ ■• Xt WM K Boct of taoJt miderataaditig 

hiCMm thn U«t Am «•• to ham * link Kith the past — a post ul 
aiMflbi *MBik p«Hw|i^ him ber own ; mod siie was gratified by 
tb» kjiMhiJtiL iifaB M bnn so kc^ miiptixed in a ceiuiu senH, 
ikB &Bin$Bp«f ht a uM -Te if ect *g*in fut of ths woililty 
.-I I. . 1. u sinnred that t« Iblt ie»pect fur 




^MiMW f»i ikcB fey ikc HOHe of a falte pociikfD, sod tbia n 
«k« in CtkhfeiB** m^famj. It nt, novatthelcsa, ddightM to licr 
toaixaiifaaU thcMhtigfaide>i«riiMnand woauD.aaJ to be ncccptoil 
ai am cwl. «*<■ re^nkd •■ a taToant« asooog thou. She had tuit 
hem aahtffy Man Hwe h«r swiriige. Htr busbaod and sh« »CM 
ptti a g sa onK^ better now than Itad b«fii tbeir vay (ot long bifoK. 
Be M W BMi« akMi, UHMgh, while ebe vaa unaware of it, ba 
W dc hed btr vioadr. tio fcU that be had struck a wrong chord in 
IfaareonTCnalkHmpantfaeday of the Federation debate; and for the 
|RMnt threw out DO mora instauations in regard to Lord Coulmont or 
otfMT iddoential a>!Burcr& Ua saw that he lisd shocked ber. This 
vooM nadcr txixoMrj tucumslaDces bave given him no utiea^ness ; 
birt Im was careful not to do so further, lest Jiis plans about Mone 
miritt no^r* aclicck. So things were going smooUily on the whole; 
and ba wna km Kritable. Uis tiebts did not press to hmvily upon 
him. The bsuk bad ivfuscd to ardcauoe the Eum he leiiuireti, and he 
had been ol4igid (o h«T« recourse to a moDey-lcnder. Uo liod tried 
to get a loan oat of Eustace, who had remained languidlj iDi|.>erviOui 
to hint& Zcaobin, howcrer, having got an inkliog of bis euhnrrass- 
iiient, seal luot in the prettiest manner a cheque for scvcrul hundreds. 
ZenoUa a»ld not a woid of this to Kooi^i, or any one else, not did 
UricbtoB. His manner to bis sistcr-in-Iaw changol Tery much. Ho 
ti'eatcd her to a Mylc of exuberant friendlinesg i hut Ibo Utile tntns- 
actiou nutdo no dillercnco in tlio contompt ba expTLBSol lor her when 
bis remarks wero not likely to rcuch hor ears. 

Koor^Ji thought ho wai groatly improving ; ebe even began to ask 
hprself generously whetiicr alio bad not been most in fault aU tilrough. 
Yes ; she was nlmust happy. 

Morse's feelings (o«anla KootMi were curiously compounded. Her 
intnition concerning them was a truo one. Tbcy were porCuJiied by 
a luemory of youth ; they bud in lUeni the recolUttiou ot the " divine 



•"SHALL I GO TO SEE HERJ' xxM 

fielJOESthat die in yotith'e brief mora,'* aaSlielley says. Kotrili's wu 
& living forra from a Iriglit time wliea Ufa traa still in its opeotng Tor 
bim. Besides tbia he aiimired ber much. lie was io a Btrangc, 
half-utuTonsciouD wity in Bymputby vcith ber ; he was pleaeeil with her 
frank outspoken confidence in bim and wliiiiratioD for bim ; aa<l he 
knew well tliat she was not happy. Morse was a man *it tlie world, 
and would have understood, of course, if he hod put tbe qucstiun to 
himself, that it would not do for bim to admire this beautiful young 
AusttsllaQ woman too niucb, or to be with her excBjit iii tbe laoat-, 
ordinary and commonplace Boct of way. But he had not the leai" 
inclination to pay her any marked attention of the kind that booIc ' 
comments upon. He was slDcerely anxious to make her time 
London ss pleasant as posaihle for her, and be was glad for her sake 
4Wiirt the compnnionahip of her husband. He hs'l a strong idea tl) 
they did not get on rcry well together, and it seemed to him that a 
woman's respect for her husband is often incieastd by the respect 
which others sliow to him. So Moree was very attentlva to Orichtiiii 
Eenway, whom all the while be did not greatly like. But Keoway 
had^impressed bim with a sense of capacity and titocES, and Morse 
often thought that if ever he got a ciiance of making such an Dp£>oint- 
ment, Eenwny would be a remarkably good man for some pormanent 
place in connection with the colonies. 

Is a prudent, well-moaning man, who is no longer young, hound to 
avoid Uie company of a married woman tbe moment be begins to feel 
sny special interest in her, the moment that uhe seems to take an 
eapedsl interest in him? Can there be no friendship between a woman 
iMM a man ? Is it all the " fire and tow " principle in wliich Crichton 
Kenway faithfully believed? Morse certainly was not a marj In 
Twlieve naturally in this ignoble doctrine. He hod no feeling towardu 
SooiHi, as yet, which might not have been kid bare to Lady Betty, 
I have had Lady Bctty'a cordial approval and sympathy. Slill, 
)r the evening on the terrace, be hod some little doubt now an! 

.B a* to whether he ought to go and see Koor^li at her bouse so 
irequently, even when sometimes Lady Betty suggcslcd the visit. 
But the chief reason for bia doubt was not because ho was afiald of 
SJling in love with KoorMI, or oF her falling in love with him. 
About this latter possibility be nevcT Ihouglit at all i only he asked 
.Iiifoselr whether it would be well to get into a habit of calling ou 
Eoorili and to encourage his inierest in her, seeing that she might. 
go back to the eolonies again, and then ho should miss her, and should 
Ekve put on himself a needless pain. Of course, if her husband could 
get a permanent appointmout, he and she would stay ia London. 
But, then, would it be well to admit ihat idea iiita his mind ? Would 
St be well Io allow himself to think tlwt a iiennaocnt place for Mrs, 
Kcnway's husband would keep Mrs, Kenway in Lonilon, and enable 
hiLi to call and have a talk wiihher every now and iheu? 

" Sh^ 1 go to see her ; shall I not go ? " Slorae was one day asking 
of himself. Why should he not go ? Vv thought; was it not almost an 






r 



130 THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 

sedgy banks down tlie volley — a narrow Btream, forkins a little bighef 
up, where it wns spacued by & huge miiiray- bridge, and curving aDil 
twistin°:, bo that in every part of tbe meadows some gleam pf it migbl 
be Been. The view would have seeemeJ oommonplaee to an ordinftry 
obeerver. There was uotljtnp; picturesque in the foundry, or tbo rail- 
way bridge wiih its iron girderB, or iu the ahocmaking town BhomiDi; 
along Ihe valley less th.in a Ciile olT. Yet the lundscapo Had a "vm- 
nesa about it and n vniiet; oF aspect which appenltd strongly to tha 
poelio mind. In the summer daytime, it was a peaceful Engliiihseeno, 
nil green grass nod waviog corn and rippling water, wliicji neverthe- 
less reminded Koorili of the paddock ol an Australian head, station, 
with the fitrm cattle aud sheep browElag (jluse to the houxs, and the 
Apparent absence of t>oimdaries. But iho wind sweeping down the 
valley in Etormy weather had beaten the pollarded willows, dotted tii 
rows here and there, into fantastic shapes. In such weather noirtliej 
looked like olive trees, with the silvery side of the leaves upward undfH* 
a wrathful sky. In winter they seemed to resemble a procesdon of 
gaunt old cronea, with bent and witcblike forms, beseeching alma 
The aun sit over the town, and thi-n tlie ug!y buildings and araoky 
chimaeya were transfigured by purple and gulden light. There were 
red stri aks on the rirer ; the outlines blended in a poetic haze, sad a 
traveller niight have fancied he was looking across one of the plains ol 
Argos or Thes^aly, letter on, the furnace reddened the Kky. ijonie- 
tiraes there was a mist, and then the tops of the willow* showed as 
islnnda in a white Like, and a passing esprcsa flashed above it liko 
a comet leaving ii3 trail of fire. 

There were no gardens or shrubbery about the Qrey Manor, A stona 
wall, on which seidiinga grew plentifully, closed in on two aidea the 
little square lawn, 'i'liero was nothing else but the eijjosed terrace 
walk, with a natural arbour of yew trees, hundreds of ycara old, at 
each end, and a steep grassy bank in which wore out two curiuuB holei 
that might have been loopholes for mediaivd warfare, but were in 
reality intended to give light to some rambling cellars beneath. 

There was, indceii, the tradition of a subtcrranenn passive connecting 
a winter camp of the Eomana, upon which the neinjhbouring village of 
Lyndchcstcr stood, with their siitnmer camp beside the river Lynde, 
on the site of which the Grey Manor wh£ built and the comfiolds o( 
the farm flourished. Traces of the Roman encampment still remained, 
in the shape of a pair of rough-hewn atone cottins atandhig at the end 
uf the hiwn, in which some clum|>s of sunduwera had either been 
planted or had sown thomselvea. The whole place wna old-world, and 
full of impressions and BBsociHtiona. ItalTccteiL KoorUli moi;t strangely. 
It deepened iter dreamy mooila. It was all in harmony with her fancies 
and yearnings. Sometimes, as aho wandered alone by the river, she 
could almost imngine that she was once more niaming in the Australian 
hush. She bad a tmluus sense of irresponsibility, as If she know her- 
self to be a mere straw in the current — a plaything in the handa of 
destiny. And she had another odd fcelios abimt ibo place- 



^a|| 



'M^is wit 



KENtfAV ACTS THE HERO. 

with the tide — apon wbetbor be becomes Prime ttiuister fl 

" He wiil not swim with the tide," KoorUi answeroel, her 
giTin^ out a proud little flaab. " He will breast it." 

"You think so?" exclfumcd Crichton in & diOTereDt tone. 
Uks to jou of his prospects — of what is poinE on behind the ecQQL 
I know Uiat he often writes to you from ibe Housie. You can giro 
gnesB as to his chances of coming in ? He believes bimaelf safe, then? 

Eooi^I looked al her husband with the faintest oxpreasiun of 
teinpt on her face. It was niin<:led ivith vngue alarm. 

"I don't understand you, Crichton. It pains me to hear you speak 
In that way, for you cannot really mean it. I am very eorry that you 
•re so distressed and ant;ry. I hiinw that it is a serious matter for ua: 
but Tor a long time we have had to face tlio thought of it ; we kofS 
UiAt it was coming." I 

"It hsa corneal a confoundedly inconreniont time," returned Eedl 
my. "Three moritha hence it would have mnttcred less. How uj 
w« to carry on now ? I can tell you that your London li :c has come 
to Ml end." 

"We might live at the Grey Mreror," said Kciorlli. " It could not 
east BO much there, and wo have still our own money — from Australia," 
"Which will go a long way — in paying interest to the Jews — in 
keeping up a ataif of servants, bun tcrs, and all that. You don't sup- 
poB* that I am going to live like a heggarly parson, within two milea 
of my younger brother and — the family estate — driving a one-horse 
tr&p, with a parlour-maid to wait, and a groom taken out of 
cabbi^ garden? " 
EoorMi was silent. 

"Well," said Kenway, "you haven't answered my question. 
ImTe a strong notion that you know something of Morse') ' *^ 

lie con^der himself safe?" 

" Safe 1 " KoorMi echoed. " I don't know what you are aiming at, 
Cnchton. I don't think I want to know. Mr. Morse must always be 
safe, for be will never act against his convictions of what is right and 
best for England, I am sure of that. As for his chnnso of being Prime 
Minister, how should 1 know what he thinks? He does talk tome 
eomctimea of politics — T am proud that be does not think me too 
■tuiM to sympathiiw with bis aims— but not in that sort of personal 
way. What does office matter to liim? And if he did tell me the 
seiTeta of his party, should I be likely to betr.iy thorn, even to my 
husband?" There was an amount of scorn in Jvoorilli's tone. "Mr. 
l^jrse will not join the war party because lus wish to stay in England, 
AT because he bos promised you an appointment if he gets into power. 
But I can't quite tnink that is so." ller eyes met Kenway's steadily. 
" Box he promised you an appointment, Crichton ? " 

"It is an understanding," replied Crichton sullenly. "You are a 
Ibol to suppose that public men ever commit themselves. A word or 
two conveys a grent denl. Such things are gpuBtailY Madetstood," J 



1 



133 "^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.'' 

getbor m&ro llght-lieiirted, more OHpnble of jiure physical enjuyment 
thsQ she hod been for a long time before. At she filled her hands wtUi 
the reeJs aod with trails of the nightshiule, in this month red with 
berries, her ploasiire in the occupftlioD woa almost cliililiGb. Yiwn 
DOW and then she would pause and look over t)ie meadow, and watrn 
the cattle nnd aheep, and Bniff the new-mown com. The reapere hlJ 
been nt work, and the air was sweet with the breath of harvest, II 
was all unfiiioilwr to Koor4U — tlie flat landscape, the green grass, flie 

Seliow com. "England is beniLtiful, too," she said to herself. She 
kod the crisp feel of the stubble underfoot as she strayed away from 
the towing-path. There was a fascination about the slate-colooird 
stream between its sedgy marsin". In sodib places the current na 
swiftly, ia others there were still leaden pools, with patches of Telvety 
slime and little islets of tufted rushes. Where the water waa clear, 
the reflections showed distinct ns in a looking-glass. The sky vtu 
dull, with white woolly clouds Itanked up on the southern hoiitioD 
Away to the west lay Ihe town, and the valley seemed to stretch very 
far. Koorfili hnd reached a spot where there was an old grey stooa 
bridge, vandyked as the briilges are in th's county. Close to it, the 
river divided again, and mnrle a tongue of land, on which stood a rod 
hdck water-mill. A deliciuus walled-in garden belonged to the mill — 
ft garden filled with currant, gooseberry, and raspberry bushes, and 
with borders of fat hollyhocks, sunflowers, honesty, and Canterbury 
bells, and all the blossoms in tbs cliildn^n's ])ictun--bookB. KooriU 
could smell the lavender and tbe late carnations across the stream. 
She thought of Miles's pet rhyme — 

"Mary, Mnrv, qnita contmry; hnw doss voar ;;iirden grow? 
With ailver bella aod cockle shells, imd " 

She could not remember the rest, anl was amused at ber own childish 
longing to go intK) the garden. But these liitte commonplace things 
had the charm of novelty for the Australian girl, and her nature was 
a sweet and simple one that did not need artificial excilement lo make 
ita happiness. She liked the whole scene. There was to her some- 
thing jioatic in the litlle promontory and the gnaHed pollarded willows 
<:rowing olosa to the edgf, in the cold still water, and in the solitary 
white swan which sailed about iatensifying the imjiression of loneliness 
and tender sentiment. 

Eoor&li's course was interrupted by a dam that servtd the mill. 
She turned, crossed tho bridge, celting on to the towing-puth again, 
and walked aloog homeward, still looking bnck regretfully at the old- 
fnshioneii flower border acra's tho stream. There wasabull iiraiingfw 
away on the path in front of her. Eoorftli eyed ihe animal nervouelj', 
ashamed of ber timidity, yet afraid lo go on— fur even her Australian 
Imtning hod not enabled her to overcome a ounstltutional terror ol 
cattle. It tossed its head — e^resslvely she thought — advanoed a step 
or two, then stood atill. It moved when Koorilli moved, but it oama 
fonvard while ahe retreated, 8ho coo-eed half involunla^ilj. ^^ 






■bock-hraded joutb Blouched oat of the mill yard. Hh did not seem 
to notice her, end she co<>-e(;d agaiij^ louder. 

"Hoi," he drawled. And tlien in nnawer (o EooriUi's queetion 
whether the beast wag quiet, drawled again in strong L;ndfoi<dshire 
vxeuXM, " Teow wun't get no imnn, OJ tlioiok." 

" He Ihinkv," murmured Koor&Ii tragicaily . She was enjoying the 
small adventure. ' 

"WhomdMsthebuUbeloDgtoVsheoBkcd. "/(ilabiill? C»i 
you drive it away?" 

" It be Muster DoWto's ; and it i« a biill," rejoined th e youth, " 
tboink. Yeow go Blraighi by. He win't Blur, Oi tholnfe." 

Kocrili fairly laughed aloud- The lnu;j;h made a pretty tinkling 
■cmnd over the water, and she herself, stnndiag with the tall reeda in 
her anna and the amusement and perplexity brightening bet eyes, was 
a very charming object. 

Just nt (list moment, and to her utler surprise, her Austratian 
"ooo-ee" — the peculiar cry, long, clear, and Tibrating, with s sort of 
I'laintive tone, the cry by which wanderers in tbe hush call for help 
and companionship — was answered by another coo-ee, as genuinely 
Auatislian as her oT>n. The cry was in a man's voice ; and it might 
have come from the very heart of the Australian hush. 

Some one stepping out of tbe mill parlour thought Instantly of », 
fictute he had seen years ago — a girl, slender of ibrm and with a 
dreamy joyous face, outlined ngainst a grey sky. 

KoorMi's coo-ce was an echo fjom the past. It had startled Uorse 
as he vas taking leave of tbe miller after a chat on Dissent, politics, 
and the sentiments of [he agricultural labourer, that unknown quantity 
which might decide the future destinies of England. Ue hod hardly 
known at first whether it waa a real coo-ee, and then he came out and 
gave, half- unconsciously, his answering call, and saw the little creature 
(tanding there, seporaled from him by llie cold gruy line of water, 
with her patlielio face as childlike and as unconsciuus as when first !t 
began to haunt him. Not the Kuorikli of Loudon drawing-roiims, but 
that EooriLli of the Australian dawn, which seemed to stand apart 
rrt»n bis everyday life, and to have enshrined itself in the moat poetic 
recesses of his nature. 

They looked at each other across the narrow river. Koor&li uttered 
a low esctamation. To Morse, the cry of surprise and joy Gounded 
inexpressibly sweet. But all was sweet and dear — the »;ene, the 
bding afternoon, the unexpected sight of her — loo sweet and too dear 
to Lady Betty's husband, to the parly leader, the man of the world, 
the Bight Honourable Sandbam Murse. 

Koorili bent forward, with arms outstretched involuntarily. Her 
U{« were parted. Her face, a Httle upturned, was more eloquent than 
the knew. It was such a strange little face, Morse had often thought. 
It could look so frozen up at times, so grave and sad. But, then, when 
■ smile of true feeling broke over it, and with a natural gesture, tbe 
ibroat curved baakwArd, showicg the chin foreshortened, the nostrils 



r 



J34 »r//£ RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

diUted, and the qiuT<3r-shai>ed Upi trembling, there came into it (T 
eipreBBiDD of inteDse seDsibility, luid ttie Guggixtion it gnve of cafadl; 
for piUBionale emotiun ini;^bt well stic tho beart of auch a 
Muree, and take away his Belf-conimand for a moiiieDt. 

Itut liB recoveied bimscir immedialely. 

"Mrs. EeQway! How refreshing to hear an Australbn cou-cel I 
did not kuow (hnt the Grey Manor was near enough for you to wnlli 
olraosl ns fnr as Bromawold. I'U. be ovtr with you in a moment, aiul 
I'll drive away the bull and carry your reeilB for you." 

Befors abc could answer ho was wiilkiog nluog the bnak, and preeeatly 
hehadcrouBoil the bridge, sent thahull tu the other aide of the meadow, 
and was beshle lier. 

" For your future comfort, Mrs, Kenway, I'll lell yon that legislation 
provides against ttie letting loose of dangerous aaimals In a field whsra 
there is a towiag-|mth. The bull was a very peaccubk animal \ quiu 
a benign old bull." 

Ecor&li looked very bright now, and laughed at her own discom- 
Bture. 

" I wasn't really frightened, Mr. Marse. I wanted lo imagine mysoK 
into a dmniatio Gitiiatiou; thnt wna nil. But, tell me, where is 
Urumuwold ? And have you become a travelling tinker, as you sfti<) 
you iviiibed, that you are wandering by my river I " 

EuoriLli held oat her hand, nn-d Morse took it in his own, liis eyes 
resiicg on her uith tender interest. 

"No, Mrs, Kenway, I hnveu't turned travelling tinker yet, though 
it is true ihat X sometimes wish I were one, and out of the turmoil of 
politics and the great world. And 1 don't mean to let you claim hd 
fOtifE right to tho river. It belongs to Bromswold too, which I find 
now can only be a short distance from the Qrey Manor across the 
meadows. 1 1 is sis or seven miles by road," 

"You are there now? "asked KuonlU, using the pronoun collectively. 

"/am there — taking advantage of being alone lo get upmy KpeecLea 
for the election, and to review the political situatiou, oa the newspapers 
put it No; as a tnattcr of fact, I iiave what a public man abould 
never own to — private business to look after — farms unlet, and that 
sort of thing. But Lady Betty ia not here. She is sllU at Homburg 
with her father." 

Koor^li bad noticed Ihat, unreserved as lie was to ber in re^rd to 
political maticrs and even his feelings and opinions, he did not often 
talk to her about his wife, nnd he always meulioned Lady Betly 
formally. She a^ked if Lord GerniiUon was better. They seemed to 
bu in the conventional atmosphere once more. 

" Arden and two or three other fellows are coming down, I believe, 
nest week," Morse went on rather hurriedly! "and I must confess to 
abetting a slaughter you won't approve of, Mrs. Eenway. One iif the 
men is great at pigeon shooting, and wants to get his tinnd in for the 
Uont« Carlo matches ; so 1 have been inlerviewiug my friend th« ndll" 
on the snhjtvt of pigeons," '^ 



^ 



^^ 



t2*7» 



Tbcre vrne a little silence. They had bogun to walk slowl/ ali 
the river bank. 

"Tell me," he said abruptly, *'This place suits you, doesn't it? 
There is somotliing wild aod picturesque about the long etretcli ol 
ineadowa, uivl the willows, and the siiiiaet reddoiiio^ the water? It's 
the Hort (if plfLco ti> ronm about and ilream in. It ittn't Eiiglisb, except 
the mill there, which might have «omo out of oqb of Qt.'orgo Eliot's 
noTola." 

"I have been thinkiug of Milea's atory-boolis," aaid KonrMi. "And 
Ibave I eea longing to go into the giirden and listen if the llowera 
wouldn't each ti^ll its own story, like the flowers in the old witch's 
garden wiioa lliioB Anderseu's little Gerda went out into the wide 

Come, then," said Morse, with an e^igerneM foreign to hia usuitl 

iner. " It it a garden in a story-bojk. Let us be Ilko children for 

e, and I will ask the miller to lot nie gather you a bunch of lavender, 

and the (lowers you fancy. They will tell you a story, perhaps, though 

they won't have any for me." 

The two had crossed the bridge, and ho openeil a gate in the red 
bick wall, and took Koorilti into tha garden. 'I'he house door at which 
be tapped ted stTai<iht into the little parlour; and here, over a tea- 
service and a large plate of buttered toast, sat a purple-faced old man, 
with a Bible open beside his pkle, an elderly woman in rusty black 
and a purple " orosaover," sourly sanctimonious in expression, and ki 
younger woman, lugubrious-looking also, and in deep weoda. ' 

Hcu^e explained that the old gentleman was Mr. Popkiss, the mill*. 
father, the elderly woman his daughter, and the younger one a 1odg« 
Be introduced KoorMl, and accepted for her and for himself the cup of' 
tea which was oETcrcd. Uis monnf^r was delightful, Eoori^li thought; 
if was BO frank and easy. She did not wonder at his popularity among 
"'" " ~xioror claases. 

[ want you to lot Mrs. Kunw.iy pick a buooh of flowers for herself, 
1&. PopkisB. I don't thiiik she h.is ever seen an old-fashioned garden, 
frith real English Huwera in it, quite liko yours. Mrs. Kenwny ia an 
Auatnitian, and only came over to Ihis country a very short time 
Hgo," 

The information seamed to imprnas Mr. Popkisa somewhat. Ha was 
deUghted at Koorilli's admiration of the garden; and then he asked a 
(nod many questiops about Auatmllo. Ue thought it woa "a pity 
iWe weren't a many more young men making for Australia, inetead of 
■tarving in counting-housed." " Why, sir," ha said, turning to Morse, 
"tiiere are boys in the big cities that don't bato enough for bread and 
cheese — no, nor bread by itself. Pto got a nephew out in Anslralia as 
uiakes as much in one day at the plough, as his brother does in a weeli 
in a tea merchanl^s oflice in London. Ile'd set his heart on that, 
■use he thought it a finer sort of thing. Twenty-live pounds a year, 

expected to dress like a gentleman in n lop|i«r and a cloth coat I 

jEhjr, i aoaWa't atnud t.'mt, ma'aca-, I'd tel just kick tlie crn«u 

■I d 



lo^f 



lock 
lot's 



1^6 "^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE^- 

out Df the sbisf hat, sod then I'd off to Austnlie. Bleas m^ U I 
wooldn'i I " 

"No, }'ou ain't a-goina to tell me that, Pupliiss. Tuu'd eiick toAe 
old country, even though she's going domi," safd a big burly raiio "lio 
came in at that momeut. 

He stopped Ehort in the middle of the room, while Slor^e got np, 
and held out his hand with a cordial "Ah! how are you, Ur. &i^1d! 
1 heard of you out cubbing this morning. Huw'» ihe niare?" 

"Oh, Fm topping wfH, and she don't want no nusaing, Mr. AIorK. 
She's a wonderful good 'oss, if you don't oTerpace her. A'ut it pleicant 
'ou, not an easy mouth ; but there ain't a stiff fence or * trappy dileli 
tbttt Ai can't find her way over. She's ns clcrer a.t a cat, »he iJ, 
There weren't ever a fence she couldn't get through. She run souud 

Jdr. Dobito sat down after delivering this emphatic eneomium on 
the mnre.and went strfiiglit to his business, whicii appenred to be «*i(li 
Mrti. Pruuae, and concerned a pig which he had l)ou«bt nt her request 
at Lyndchester market. When it was dune with, he got up ttgaioi 
but did not seem inclined to go away. Qe was a curious-looking man, 
A perfect tyjie of the old Midland farmer, tall, square-built, with n 
weather-beaten face, and a bald bead fringed wiUi iron-grey. He had 
another fringe of more stubbly growth round his chin. Hia eyes wvre 
black, bendy, and humDrous, his 'Cyelirows and lashes thick and Over- 
hanging, llis upper lip was long, liia teeth were long also, and hi« 
month seemed the same width at the comera as at the middl?. 

" You weren't at the Lilicml meeting at Lyndchester the oilier nighli 
Dubito ? " said Morse, antiooa to draw him into coaveniation. '^ 

" Fm no Libera!, nor jet Consorrativa, nor Badicid, Mr. 1 
Where's the good? Fm for the farmers, I am, and which of ,^iO'i 
will listen to what the fanners have got to say, and call *em aught H. 
a grumbling lot ? Why, God bless my soul, it's not becauaa it's tife^ 
nature of farmers to in-umble; it's ijccaiiao of the extrny burdens 
and the wurking man I I'm quite tired of that there working man. 
The TIadicils and the noospapera have made an idol of him— they 

" But they tell me wheat is going to rise, Mr. Dobito," said Morse. 

" It'll rise when we've done growing it," said Mr. Dobito, with a dark 
and ominous frown. "Mark ye, Mr. Morse, Enghind's going down, 
I don't cay that she won't p'ck u|); but there's too many cheap things 
iotd. TIml's whore the miaciiief lies. The wurk ain't well done. 
Them's the shooB now." 

Mrth ProwEB and tlie widuw noi^ded in tragic absent. 

" Tou aiu't a-goinj; to tell me," continued Mr. Dubito, ■ that the 
ItuiBlans, or the Belgians, or the Japanese, or any other ess ia a-going 
to aland shoes with paper soies, and to soud their leather over here 
when they cnn turn it into shoes at home. These nnanufactora all 
about hero ain't gat a conscience. Th.t\] all stood ahind the door when 
conreionees were given out. They make articloa that * '' 



Mt1'(lHj 



-COO-EEf* 

kt 1^ Bui mnr> ,\c, mitTftm," and Hr. IXibito fixed KooiUi with bis 
glittering eye, " wl od tlie greot Slaker of all Iliin^s ban HU wunl b 
Bay, why I reckon He'll mnke it liot for 'em 1" 

"Mrs. Keoway baan't beard about Iha paper solea yet, Dobito,'' 
explained Morse, "Sbs has only been at theOreyUanor fcrafe 
wecki. We must enlighten ber about ci-unly nffairs — yow (itid I." 

"Kot Mre. Ken way nt the Priory ? " said Sir. Dobito, looking doubt- 
fully at Kooi-SLti. "Quite another eort, begging your pardon, i ' 
That's t/Lti. Eustace." 

My sister-in-lnw," said KoorJlli. 

She's no mean galloper, nha ain't," esclaimwi Mr. DoNlo oi 
''*--tieallr. " I've seen her giving her 'oss a stretuh. She do love doga 
— why, aha has a street of'i-m.and shewfttilsme to giveher myopiniou 
»liout a foxhound terrier she'b <^>t, an-d she's a-going to bring him over 
to my ricks. I don't think so much of her biiBbaod. He don't care 
«bout bunting; a coach and pnir, tliat's about his Torm. Looks aa 
thonglt he wanted roast beef and port iviue. 1 rfK;kon he lives on kick- 
shaws and your new-fangled aoda water, or Ap'iUiiiaris, with a dash of 

biskey in 'em, that makes it worse. I don't liold to that riibbiaii. 

;"b my way to go on atraight with th« ivirt," 

'■ Boally, Mr. Dobito, I tliink you're a Ihtle unfuiit to my b^otbe^ 
In-kw," a:iid Koorkli, laughing, "I assure you I've seen biiu go ot 
fctrniiclit with the port too." 

" Maybe," returned the farmer. " I did bciir of him the other diij 

, ins two hunters — I d^a't sre him, mind — I didn't eee him; hnll 
thM^ht to myself ' That looks better.' Well, gooii day to you, Mr*. 
■Prowse, 1^1 sea about the jng ooniing. Good-ltye, ma'iim, I hope Til 

* yon "gain, with Mra. Eustace. G-ood-bye, Mr. Morse." 

OldPo|>kiss,in his rapacity of host, hobbled to the door, and watctieil 
Mr, DoMlo mount. When ha came back, he aoemed determined to 
tiaVe his innings, for Mr. Dobito had monopolized the conversation. 
Mr. PopkJBs talked volubly and diacurKively. He addressed Morie 
yrindpally. 

"■-K)raU was a little ahy, but she tried to make conversation wilh the 
CD. Presently, however, the younger one in black got up with u 
•omewhat tragic air and wJtbdrow. 

•■ She's a widow ihat we have hera with ua, mn'iim," remarked Mr. 
Popkiss contidont'aliy. " She's Ihe widow of the doctor's aaniataut 
Lyndchester, She's in deep sorrow." 

"Olijlhope thnt she didn't mind our coming in," esclaimed KoorUt-' 
vympatfietioally. 

"It onmes hard upon her," conlimied Mr. Popkiss; "for she liaa- 
tieen used to high life — lo high lile,'' he repeated impreasively. "A 
liorse and fsbny and a pound a day. Not that she nia't comfortable 
now; but fur them as has been usad to bish life, it'it hard to come 
down to that which is low. But I says to bor, ''rha Lord must ha' 
wt greiit store on you, Mrs. Bird, or fle wouldn't hove taken you( 
tiuband from yon,' 
10 



I 
I 



r38 '^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

"Sumo of us might tHnk thai vieir of Providenw rather t hanti 
oue," mid Morae. 

" Tbera's my daughter, Mrs. Prowiie," Mr. Popkiss went on, taking 
no notice of the icrnoiialrauce, "a wliiow likewiHe; and lior husbund 
wM A eora trial— itB musl be a con!«.>latiiia to &(r^ Bird ; for it's com- 
forting to the afSicted to be with them that have pauad through thE 
deep wnterB." 

Koorili looked aym pathetically at Mrs. Prowae, who cast down her 
eyes, cunscioiia ap[>areiitly of having been unjiistiy bufi'e:ed by Fate, 
and iienvcd a deep sigh. 

"It were bq awful trial," ahe munuored. "So one knows what It 
is but tbem as has to eodure it. I woulda'c wish my enemy voeet 
iuck nor a husband as ha' got a liver," 

Morse laughed pluuantly oa he rose, 

"We've all got livers in these daya, Mrs, Prowae — wo men; aad 
tempers, too. I am afraid that both Mrs. Kenway and my wife Iibtb 
to Huffet from them sometimea. Now, we'll go and gather our flowera, 
if we may, and I shim't let you come out with us, Mrs. Prows?, for 
the mists are rising, as I know that you are apt to take a chill and 
are not as strong at you might be." 

They said good-bye, shaking hand» with the old people, and left the 
parlour. As Koor&li stooped over the lavender bush uud'^rceatlt the 
open window she ho.ird Mrs. Pr^wsa remark in a tone of gnititicatioii— 

" There he a difi'erence in the he.irta of men, to be sure. Now, Mr. 
Morse, he do showa heart fi>r aicknesa. There's parson at Lyndchest-ir 
— he don't understiiud a poor tody's oomplainls, I met him the otber 
day, and I'd just put my foot out, to pick up a few sticks. ' Why, 
Mrs. Prowpo,' tays lie, ' I'm jileased lo see you so well, and taking a 
walk.' And he m'ght ha' knowed," added Mrs. Pronse, with surrowfol 
resentment, " that 1 were but weakly in my health, mid couldn't get 
as far as the bridge b) nave my life, nor have done it this mary years.* 

KoorAli lau;;hi'd softly, and looked up at Morse, who addei clove 
piuks and siveet-smelling stocks to her lavender, and soon they had a 
inndly bunch. He watolied her as one might watch a happy child. 
In truth ahe was very happy. She enjoyed the little ciperienca. 
1'here was in it aometliing iilyilio, and, simple as it all was, unlike any 
other experience. He too seemed to have unbent, and to be marc <A 
the sclioolboy than the Btateaman. Aa they walked along the river 
bank tDwards the Grey Manor they talked in an inconsequent fashion, 
which waa, for that reason perLapa, very aweet. It was the eaiy 
interchange of passing tlioiights between two dear companiona, who 
areliringjustia the hour and in the certainty of each other s sympathy, 
and underlying the light How (.here was the faint oansolousness' ol 
emotion, at once exciting and soothing. She knew, though he did not 
tell her, that he had been thinking much of her during their separation. 
Nothing definite was said about the loss of her huaband's aproinmeni 
and the political crisis at hand. Yet aha felt vaguely that both bad 
been in bis mind in connBotion with her wishes for the future. " 



J 



COO-EE/' IjjH 

ukod her, " Did she like the Grey Manor? Did she regret London?^ 
Would she tniud living in tbe couairy fur & time, or would abe preTer 
to go back to Australia?" Aod from her rimple regilicB, and tlic 
cjiaoce TcrrelatioDs ehe made of her occiipHtiuna, her iutcroats, her traia 
of thought, lie learned with & curiuue )>Icasurc that she wft? be;iiuniag 
10 be iooA of Eugland, that she oouM be ver^ happy with her children 
ia tbe quiet natural life aha led. It itob mouotouous, perhaps she 
ft&&; but nothing jarred here. And she thought she liked bein;! dull, 
and BometimeB eTen melancbot; nas pleasant — " like soil poetry." Sbj^ 
liked lo be left nlone, and she liked " the peace of it all." And thJ 
e out that all this time her hUBband bod baco away. 



Uorse asked when Keuway was expected back. 
[tdny,Ithink,"Bl 



ah a 1. 

chtoS^H 

I will 
g wa 
> fen^H 



" To-morrow, or tbe next day, I think," she answered; "hut Oriohto 
is atwajTB uncertaiii, and it depends upon whether he haa good Ebooting 
And is amused." 

" I hope he will be hero on the Ist," said Morse, " and that he will 
tmmp a few tumi|>-(ields with me. I can't tell what sort uf a bag w 
are likely to get ofi' Bromswold; but, anyhow, we shall have 

They had come to the bend of the river below the railwny bridge, .i 
The aun was gone down, and there was only a faint radiano* " ■"■ 
west. It did not seem to rench tbem. Here the water w^is 
and the images in it of the trees and the archea of the bridge looked 
Uiick and sharp. A man fishing at the aedgy border uf tlie bind stood 
redected — two (igurts, as it were, juint'd at the fe«t — a strango lonely 
object against the sky. There was & thin vaporous moon shining above 
the Grey Manor, which rose on the opposite bank. 

Horse was struck by the aspect of the place — the mised terrace, 
with its odd loojihok-s, and the giey house, ivy-growii and set between 
the dumps of solemn yeivs. Uf, too, at that instant felt something 
of KoorU'a prophetic instinct. 

He went with her to a wicket gnto at one end of the terrace beneath 
tiie yews, and opened it for hec to pnss tbrotigh. 'i'hcn he held out 
hi* hand. 

" Yon won't come in ?" she said, with timid questioning. " I was^ 
u to seo the house and some Australian lliings I have put up." JH 
" Nut this evening. 1 shall have to walk fust to got home in tlmfl 
r an appointmeut. But may I come lo-morrow afternoon and MH 
you — and the AuBtrnlian things ? " " 

"Oh yes, I shall l-e so glad." A bright look of pleasure flashed 
OTW the sensitive little face. She gathered up hoi' rceda and her 
dowers, holdLag tbem close to her so that the bulrushes framed her 
head. 

He seemed to linger. "Yes," he eaid, atonce masingly and abruptly, 
" 1 like this background for you lietter than the Londun uiie. It seems 
somehow to bring you back as you firat appeared to me. Do you 
temember, when wo met in London, how your nonie — Koorili— came 
u my lipa at once? I fee! the snitie sort of inipulech<.'ie." ^m 



140 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

Koorili turned iior large toft eye* straight upon Lim in 

w»y ahc had. No words ahe could have utlered then would have 
conveyed to him what that look told, it wsa £u childlike, &ud ^et 
fullof dianity, of pathos, of trust. 

He took her hand in his. HU eyea were no iesa pamest, no it™ 
unHinchin j in their gaza. " Good-byo," ha said, " KoorUi, my little 
queen." 

" Good-bye," she answered, in a Btr.inge, subdued voice, and they 

As ho walked homeward and from the river bank looked up st tliB 
terrace, ho saw her atamiJDg thero atill, with her ciiildren by hor sMe. 
She was watching him ; but her children were by her eide. 



CHAPTER SVII. 

Tub next morning's post-bag, which c*me when KoorMi 
fiiEtiag, brought no news of Crichton. KoorUli hod lialf cxpecU 
hear that he would return that day, Now she knew that he wa|j 
coming. As aha put down the last of the pile of unoi^ened tettd 
which aba h^d glanced one by one, and wna certiin that thert^ 
none from bim, abe was almost frightened at the wild bound] 
heart gave. Another ilay of peace apd irreBponaibility — of freedoi^^ 
happiness. What hati come to bet ! Why the soft glow at her hm^ 
the secret hugging of moments, wLich owed their charm to ple&snrable 
anticipation ? To wliat did she look forward ? She had been lonely ; 
she had been vagoely sad. Kow she waa no lonaer lonely and ssd. 
Her Bpirifs bad regained their elasticity. 'ITie world waa hoautiful, the 
sky was bright, and the air sweet. She wanted to wander out in the 
sunshine, to I)roBthe the ecent of flowers and corn nnd meadow-sweet, 
to have her pulses slirrcd by the rustle of the wind, the singin; of the 
birds, the murmur of tlie bees. Why should she not yield to this 
luxurious sense of delight, which was in itself so pure and so natural? 
She shook herself free of the chill terror which for an instant sdzed 
and bewildered her. She caught up bar letters asoin, aod toot lltUe 
Miles's hand in hers. Tlje child hod been watchiug her wistfully, ~~ 

"ConiF, my little boys," she said, "wo shall have sroh a bi 
monung, and while 1 rend my letters, you shall go and get your n 
and we will make tlie lawn tidy, because we are going to htve avi 
to-day." 

"Who?" cried Lance, And Miles asked eagerly," Is It j 
Uorie?" 

"Yes; it is Mr. Morse," answr.'rcd Eoorkli. 

" They were talking about Mr. Murse at LyudobeBter fair yeat«d J 
■aid Lance, " and one man said he was a coward, because b 



1 



"ONE TOUCH LIGHTS UP TIVO LAMPS.' 

Ihe English to kaock vaAa and not fl^ht. Fight who, 
Aod aQOlher maa— I think it was Mr. Dobito — was ve-ry iingiy, jind 
he said he viabed they'd tntka Mr. Morsa Prime Micislcr, iwcauao 
ba'il take taxes off the people." 

Koor^li lialeDed witii interest. " And what else diJ they >kj, 

" Ob, I dont know," said Lnnco. " I didnt care, I wtint t) go 
tuck to Australia; it's all j.Jly humbug here. Oli yea, I remttnbw. 
Tbef were tilkiag about Prime Ministers, and Mr. D.>bilo paid thi 
mu dd Gladstone wuulrl Etnnd up nith a lon^ glib tongua aad ti 
a lot of bosh, but that Ur. Morse was the man for the farmcn>, fur 
Wfuited to make En^lishmeu comrortable, nnd didu't ci 
the world killing savasca. What does that tiiean, ni 
is killing savages ? " 

Ktwtali read her letlars under tha yew trees. One from Zenobift, in 
a great square eavelope, fantastically ribbed and roottledniid emblaxooed 
with the Eeoway arms, t<Jd her thst her time of seclusion was almost 
over. Zen wrote a big round haod, like the hand of a schoclboy of 
nioe. Her epistolary style was diacursive, like her conrersation, and 
■ometimes amuiiing, Sha wrote from the Cantcloupes' place in York- 
^hire, where she and Euxtace wers staying on their way lock from 
Scotland. 

"Deasest KooBii.r, 

" We are going to be at the Priory on the 2nd. Ti 
Criehton nre to come over and stop a week with me, anii admire . _ 
house now it's done up, I think you'll say I know how to make 
myself comfortable. Haring done that, I shall get you and Lord Anien 
to show me how 1 can make the villaRe comfortable. It's all beastly 
new — I mean the furnilure. The village is as old as the Knights 
Templar. I notice that in moat houses the furniture isu't new, aad 
that it looks dirty. I like things clean — spick-and-span; floors you 
could eat your dinner off. Anyhow, I'm new, so it will suit me, if it 
docott suit Eustace. I think Tm too new for bim, only he is too 
polite to say so. The Family hasn't snuffed me out yet There are 
Bisteen of them here. It's family sauce with evefything. Soma of 
them are Catholica and some are Frotestantd; that's the only variety. 
I notice there's an awfullot of ceremony in the way Protestants approach 
thdr Creator, Suuday is the State function. It mutt be something 
re»l Bflrioua before they'll venture on a confideniial week-day oom- 
nnmication. Old Canleloupe, in his own house, looks about as com- 
fortable and as much nt home as a cat in a cold bath. Her ladyship 
snaps him up pretty sharp. Slie's a beast, with a long nose and short 
petlicoata — 'suitable for eottotry wear, my dear' — and she looks at 
my velvet frock wilii an evil eye. I do love velvet, but it seems to 
j^ the maa^e when she looks nt it. I feel a patchwork of brutality 
nod blasphemy when she empties out S<ilomon's preMpts o 
Tell CricDion there's a man here with hia cje 06 & a^nlel 



nber. i 

1 



4 

th8^ 



1 



"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE:'' 



SbarH 



-ntinrlDg to tbs tlescription he gare me of wbat ba wautcd. SbaL, 
black, without a wLite hair; nice inooths old, tender-mouthed, used 
ti) rabbits, but isn't acquainted with partridges. Her mother took 
second prUe nt IiirmiDi;hiiin, and bhe costs four pounds. It' Crichton 
won't ORve her, she shall go into my dng-streot. I am afraid, m; 
dear, the horizon of joiir proKpects iB beastly clouded. Tlio Fninily 
Is a widow's cruise of dark prognogLica, * Sweat are the uses of 
adversity.' Botl A splendid pl.isler to auolher person's giali, bn| 
hot iron to your own. floircver, if Moras comes iu it will be all right 
fiff jou, and, Bse-saw, down with I he ariatoBracy and up with Ho^s 
niid hie cow, I'm new, eo it wou't do for me to he a democnit. 1 
belong to the Primroae League, and I am ordering a primrose skiit 
Sjjan't IlookloVL'ly? 
" Good-bye. Mind, you are to come on the 2nd. 

" Your affectionate sialor-i 

"Zk.'^odia EBNWt.T,^ 

Eoor^li smiled softly as she rend Zen's letter, but her face 
grave when she litiiidlied it. She did not like the suggesdi 
Murse would provide jbr them if ho should come iutu power, 
would rather that their fiitndship should be without taiol of tji 
serving or self-inlerest, It pained her to have It brought home to, 
that when Zen spoke out many otliers must be thinking. 

When Morse arriveil, tlio children were having tea 
excrescence leading olf the hall, a queer little room of no pxrtic 

sbftpe, with a deep mulUoned window, over which the ivy crept, 

a panelled mantel-board that lifted up aud showed dark cavities ouw. 
used for keeping tinder in, the delight of the boys, a store to ihem of 
fathomless mystery and ineshaustible possibiliiies of conoealinenL 

Lance jumped up, crying, "Mr. Morse." He had caught eight -of 
Morse's tall form passing the window. ~ 

It wBs GooiMi herself who appeared in the open doorway just 
stepped wiiliiu to reach the ancient iron knocker. 

"We are very primitive, yoa see," she said, smiling. *' Wb d( 
indulge in the luxury of bells, and we let our door stand open becat 
it la so heavy, and tne l.ilch is so huge and clumsy lliat the children 
could not draw it if they tried." 

Morse admired the thick oak beams studded with immense niuls, 
and the nisty iron liars and gigantic key stiudiug ia the lock. Hs 
admired also the low hall, with its oak pHoelUng notched and defaced 
in many places, its dingy ceiling crusscd with beiims, its massive doon 
opening in all directions, and its stone-fiagged floor, on which Koorilti 
had thrown opossum ruga and ksiLgaroa skios. Though simple even 
to bareness, it was all very picturesque, and it seemed to him is 
keeping with EoorMi herself. 

"It puts me in mind of Australia," she said, "except for the grey 
■tone ixA the oak and the Romans. I must show you the coffins or^ 
8eDl]y, Tite kitchen is next this, &o we ^vtu'b fwc io ^o for aajtl 



t«E 

aS^ 



;hiq^H 



•B.Vl ftVOt t/hffS (* TVO lAMPS.' 

iWe want. And oh, Mr, Morae, Ibere b qaita a roanorial firey>lace In 
vA a real ingle-nook I " 

Ha had Iho same feeling as yesttrday, Ihnt life was nlto^plher 
natuMl and joyous, and that the rcEtrainlB of conventlimality i 
bs CABt mide. Sho looked bo simple and childlike ivlth lier cfiildi ._ 
Rhe brought bim into the little room and gave liim tea vitb themi^ 
She did not Eiimmon a servant, but with Miles wniicd upop hinii 
Lanfe was wot Ibr a fresh cup nod plate, she hcreelf wont for vome 
wnnderful Etrawbeiry jam, for which tiie boys had pleadful in honrtilt 
of the gueet. They wi^re very merry, with juat an undertone of emotion 
ninniiig tbrongh the merriment. Morse hod a pleasant way wllh 
idiUdren. He laughed heartily when Lance gravely atiked him whether 
bewaa really afraid to let the English fighi, and if the Qi 
make him Prime Minister, nnd repented Ur. Dubito's remni 

When tea wna ovet Eoor&li ecnt the children away to their plqrj 
and took bira into her Eittias-rooin, which was one of the Gcorgii 
rooms, and had lofty while-panelled walls, and tall atmigbt window 
witb window-soBts. Slie had managed to make this like heraclf 
with the bits of drapery flung about, and the Australian uenpuns 
aUos and pieces of bipa contrnsting oddly with the knick-k nacks 
had brought from London and some specimens of Roman potti 
OB the high mantel-shelf. 

Their talk rippled on mnch as It had done the day before. 

"I doa't think people get half enough out of life," Morse mid, 

hair as much as they might." 

"But you surely have got a gooH deal out of liib?" KoorMi said, 
looking at him with a kind of wonder. He had seen bo raiioli, done 
much, lived so much. 

" Yes, I bttve got a good deal out of it. I have tritd to worm both 
bands befoie the fire of life." 

That is a good way of putting it. I like that," Koorili said 
quickly. 

" It's not mine ; it's Savt^o Lander's. The fire la opt to scorch 



1 



"With most people to turn into embers find aabes,! ihink," Koorili 
said, and then wished she had said eomethin^; else, or snij nothing. 

"Ah!" he exolfliniedj "you Laven't much coofldence ' 
theory that every one is meant to be happy." 
She smiled a little aadly. " I haven't much confidence in nnythii 

litink it all left me when I " She was going to say, " when 

married," but she did not. She said, " when I grew to be a woman.' 
" Why, then ? " he nsked. 

" I don't know. Perhaps I had too much confidence before, 
expected more out of life than I'd any ri^ht to." 

" One has a right to expect a good denl out of life. There ought 
bo material enough in lifo for eneh oE us to have his henrt'a desire, 
inter. The worst is, thiit we most of us make "'" " ' ""~ 
• too late.' " 



I 



"/V/£ RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 



op n 

)m 1 



"Ah, yes," KooiMi wid quickly. 

"The pieces nre all there," Morse woot on, "but weflliake than op 
impa'.ioutlv, nnil the right uces cnu't by any reflsonabb poasibllity ' 
got together, and the wroag onaa are weilged fast ; and it eoiis ' 
stalemate rather than a cbecknititc, for tbe moat part." 

There was a short | niiee. Her breHlh came a little faster. It vu 
strange to hcur the suoceasful insi) talk thus, witb his meluichaly 
metaphor about life's Btalcoiate, Koorlili wa^ seated before a littlt 
table, on Hhich she leaned with her hands ciaijped upon it. All tbs 
Lime they had biH^n speaking his eyes had been turned away from bets. 
Once er twice ho had moved as if he were going to any goad-bye, and 
liad only tcmaiued Iwcause of some question or remark frum her. 
Suddenly he changed his place, and touk a choir opposite her. As he 
did thii lie bent forward, and by some chance his Land for a eecoDil 
touohed her clasped hands. His bacid was withdrawn in an instant ; 
the gesture was merely aaadental and unconscious, but the feelin; 
which it brought was like that of an electric shock, For an inslool 
he held his breath, fie a man might do who feartj be has unconscloudy 
let out a secret. But with this, too, was a peraunal sen^ of surpriae 
and dismay ; he hod revealed to bimsulf his own secret. Thai could 
bo hiiiden no lunger — from him at least. 

When his hand t<)uched hers, KoovElli looked up nt first a little sur- 
prised. Of course she knew that the touch was uueonscious, inadver-' 
tent, accideutal, and } et ehe felt Ler forehead grow hot, aud she beot 
lier head as if she uould hide sumo Budden expression uf feeling. She 
drew herself bock behind a line of mental reserve, and there was a 
moment's awkward silence. Each felt, each feared that the other 
knew and ft-it also. Then there was a plunge into talk again, each 
rushing at ihe opening of a conversation, each apparently trying lo 
get the Brst word. MiHsa had, liuwtver, quite pulled himself tngeiher 
W this time. He had come ihere with Ihe iutention of sptaking to 
Kooiili on what might be called in very strictness a matter of busi- 
nesB. Under the fro.sh charm of the situation and their talk, he bad 
put off and otr the diKculty ho found in approaching it. Now, how- 
ever, he was determined that the question must be raised at once. 
His own feelicga of a moment ago warned him that he must come to 
the busineiis he had in his mind. It would have bod to come, in any 
case. Ho had thought it out for some time, but the warning bb 
heart hnd just given him was only another reason to show that he had 
thought it out to good purpose. So he stopped her rather abniptiy in 
a Utile speech she was begmning on eome subject in which she bad no 
manner of interest. As he interi'upted her he got up and st<.>od with 
his hat in his hand ready to go. 'Ihe moment lie rose EoorMi lOM 
also. She did not know why ; it looked as if she wanted him to go — 
almost seemed ungracious, Khe thought. 

"Urs. Kcnway," he said, "there's something I wanted to Bay to 
you. Oar tnlk yesterday set me tbiuking about you and your iuturi>- 
I don't know why, unless it vim because you seemed m contented •; 



J 



"ONE TOUCH LIGHTS UP Tt^O LAMPS.' 



Hke Tonr re^ telt in t)u« plaoe. I don't think the life of Iiondon 
Koiild «ver qu)t« suit yfiu, 1 fancy that I've told you Ihnt Iwrore, 
haveo't 1 ? 1 think you might bo bsppier, and lh:it it might be better 
!ar jou and joars, if your husband gut an appainUnent wbich wuuld 
take you away froai Lomioa." 

He watched her snxioiuiy as he spoke. He saw that she did 
realiM the full import of thia tenlnliTe Buggestion which ha had i 
]«ied BO carefully. Her face took ihe blank chill look that comes oi 
the face of a child at the first hint Chat its holiday must end. 

"A^H-ay ?" aha repeated. "Out of London? I doa't know thai 
ifaould care ftir that, Mr. Uorse, though I am very happy here. 1 ' 
afiud thnt when Crichlon comes h»ck, this simple, dull sort of lift-, 
my saiisfaction wiib it, will come to an end," she added, with 
sad Utile laugh. "There will be so much more needed lo i 
hiiptij — 00 much that we bnren't g»t. But if Crichton is furtuoata 
eoungh to get nn English appointment, it must be in London." 

Horse fell a |>ang of pity and lenderuess at her half'unconsoiaus 
rerelation. " I suppose," he sali, " Ihat nn appointment out of London 
wouU mean one out of EnglHn<l, Should you iniud that very much?" 
She looked up in a startled way, and met his eyea. She saw the 
anxiety in his face, Ihougb he spuke in quite nnemotianal tones. " I 
— I don't know," she s^d (ulttriiigly. " I haven't thought about it 
Utely. I am afiaid that 1 lake lile too much as it comes, and don't 
trouble Buffieieiitly about the morrow." 

"1 wish that 1 could ke«p you from any need to trouble about tho 
morrow," he e^iclaimed. Then he went un wiih insistent emphasin. 
" Just think over thia idea of a colonial appointment, Mrs. Kenway — 
that is what I moan! — and tell me what ^ our wishes really are. Oddly 
enough, when 1 got home lost night, 1 found a letter which showed 
me a chance of senring you in that way." 

Ho stitl n*atchcd her intently. A taint Hiuh came over Kooi^li's 

face. She did not auswer at once. 'I'hin dhe said in a chilled voice — ■ 

" lit. Horse, you are vury good to ua, but 1 don't feel as though we 

had any right to be considerrd. Oi'ichtou has iw claim " 

" Oh yes, Mrs. Ecnway, your husband has a claim, and he has 
interest, which comes to the same thing. He has gaineil a repiitaiioa, 
and de.servedly, for tact and knowledge iu colonial affairs. Us will 
eonfor a be netit on his country by his sorvioos. That is the way to 
put it. He has more or tees identified biroaelf, however, with mo and 
my party, and 1 begin to doubt nioie and more whether 1 shall be able 
tccept tlie position which — which, you know, people think I am 
) to have, and my friends, who expect to see me in such a position, 
might be ciiajiiiointed. And X thiuk, if your b'>s1)aiid would take 
ibis oOer, it would be bettor in every way. I don't know it'yon quite 
undeivtand ? " 

Oh jes ; bhe quite understood, and slie felt ashamed. Morse knew 
that her husband was merely looking to him for an npiwintment. 
Uorse was warning him through her that after the elections ho migll#; 



Ion" 



r 



^'m 



•tS^ 



146 "r//£ RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

not tm tililv to do nil that Kenivay expected. Moras knew also 

Konway'a iHgleB nnJ habi(B mnile it better for him to be rcxmovcd from 
the templntii'Da nod antbitioBS and social competitioDa and moral 
[lassers ufa Londnn lifa. 

"Yes, I understsnd," »be sai.l sadly. 

AfUr lie hud gi)nc, Eooi^li went into the hoiiee. The cbjli][«a 
cams to her before her diaoer. L&Dce was making a boat, and did not 
cure to talk or nsk questions, but little Miles crept up to her aod 
begged that she would read hiia a story. She did not koow whAt 
it was that made her voice quaver eoas she rend. Perhaps it was be- 
cause the etory was a sad one. When she had fioished and had put the 
book down, Milea said to her, with his big dear eyes lifted to her face — 

•* Mother, I want you to do somethiDg for me." 

" What is it, dear ? " 

" I want you to tell mc about rour life. A great many mol 
boohs write the stories of their lives and difieient thiugs lo 
theu- little children," 

"What sort of things? Whnt do you want to know?" 

"Oh, every thiTig! What you did when you werea little girl, 
why you married father, and if ha aiiked you or you asked him." 

" You foolish child — women never ask men if they'll marry th( 

"Yes they do — in leap year — Ainelis aaya so. And I want toT 
if you were liappy when you mariied father, and If yoa have any 
Bi'oret thnt you linve kept all your liTe." 

Kooikli lient her head, and laid her cheek upon the boy's 1 
" Whnt great secret could I have, Mil« ? " 

"Oh, there's lots — in hooka. There was one in 'The Mysterioo* 
House in Chelsea.' The lady was in love with another man, and she 
was afraid her liiisbsnd would come to know it. But Amelia took it 
Hway from nie before I had goL half through it. Motherl what'« 
(he matter ? " ^ 

A great drop hnd fiillen on the child's cheek. Lenee broke ii 

" Miles is always getting hold of Amelia's books — marryiDg and 
and jolly rot. I wouldn't read such stuff. When I'm a man and 1 
to get married, I'll do as father sajs — go straight to the girl, and 
'Now, what about the coin?'" 

" WsB that what father said to you, mother? " said Miles, still in- 
quisitive. 

KoorJili rouBi^ herself. She lnu)<hed — a laugh with the sound of 
tears in it. " Lnr.ce is quite right. Aniolin's books are not boy*i 
books, and bays should tbjnk of cricket and heats, and not of things 
that only older |>eople have to do with. Good night, my children," 

8he ate her lonely dinner, or rather made a pretence of eating it. 
As she was leaving ibe dimug-room, the maid brought in a telegram, 
and waited (0 see if there was any answer fur the messeiiser to take 
back. KoorUi opeited the telegram. A strange horrible chill fell 
upon her. It was from Crichton. 
"J return to-aoriow. Meet tra.in atrivrng L^oiiVealBi it a.lS.'-M 



ia took it 
I whoV^^ 

>iD-i^H 
andl^H 
and WO^H 
Bnd«i^^^ 



"one ■fdt/ctftft/n-s' tfp ivu lamps- 



1 

At 



"There is no answer," Eoorali faid in a mecfaonicnl tone. 
Eenwny is coming lo-morrow." 

The inaiil went oaf. For a few moments Koor^li tiooA bv th« 
table with a dazed rrightened look on licr face. At la«t, nt Inst I At 
this moment the full revelation had come upon her. The shock the 
felt at the news of Crichton's coming told iior alL She acemcd to grow 
IBlcr and pakr, and her dark ejea gaird aoxionsly inU) TacaaO" 
Slops in \ha ball brought her to herself. She crushed the telegram 
hcc band ; then, remembcrirg Cricbton's fussy particularitj — ta kv\ 
in Bgonjr tixaa everyday trille is agit to cross the mind — and foarii 
his utgcr if any mistake were made as to the hour be had apccilleil 
die smoothed out the pink pper and placed it on the maDi«l-pi«CQ, 
where it might be referred to if necessary. She did not go back 
Kitting-room, but crept upstairs to her otrn bedroom. It was : 
la darkness. The window was open, and mingled twilight and nn 
l^bt filled it with sha^lons. A bat flew in and circled, making . 
uncanny noiae,and she could hear a comcrako shrieking in the nicadt 
bdow. She stood at tlie window for a minute or two and looked ot 
ITw river and ibo fields wore covered with a thick white mist, like 
grare-olotb. The flame of the furnace oppoaito was learing wildly, 
shoiring its fierce blazs n^ainst a bank of clouds. As atiti watched, 
an express trnin iralling hcry amoke Ewc[ft like a metuor above the 
leTpl of the mist. 

Eoor^U sbivero'l and turned away. She cotild not bvsr just now to 
look at this woird scene, so unlike any other scene she had ever known. 
Toanog ocean, or desolate stretch of bush or wild headland, might have 
givon her a senai; of relief itnd anchorage. She seemed to have lost alt 
^miliar landmarks. Sho was in a new worldofeiperienoB, of emotion, 
of dangers that she had never feared btfure; a world in which thcro 
seemed ooly two realilias — her children and this great terrible love, 
For she knew it now. She knew it Ijccaaso of the dread and repulsion 
she had feit on reading her kusbiind's tclegmm. She might have 
known it long ago had the not allowed herself to drift on in fancied 
security, never pausing to think or to analyze her own feelings. Yes ; 
she loved Morse. This was lier secret, the secret no one mi^ht share, 
which ahe roust hide guiltily from her boys' clear eyes as they gfew 
old enough to understand ; from her husband — from tho world — from 
Lady Betty, sweet, generous Liiiy Betty, who had been so frankiy 
kind to her— and mere closely, oh, far more closely still, from Morsa 
himself; jcs, \{ possible, from Heaven. 

The bat came wheeling nearer to the motionless fi^re. EoorAli 
started at the flapping of its wings near hor head. Sha was very oold, 
but die would not go down to the sitting-room, where were lamps and 
the fire she always bad lighted for company's sake. She wanted to be 
quiet and alone, to thkik it all out Yet sumehow she could not think 
otiberently. She could ohly go back upon foolii^h laemoriea — Morae'a 
look sometimes when she found his ejus upon her, and little irrelevant 
Its had said. 



'"S hy 8 fl; If ^ '"' '"'■ret ehamiv, ^^^■^.'' ^H 

™ " i* •■raj.ii °; ;"P»»iibilii/j,S ™" ""' I"'. Zl '■"' "^ 
T, ■""' h W„„ j"" "ol . aii,!"" ■» !»«. %? ,° "low- 

."S" '^■. Sum" "K »., l.tSi'';> « t M?^;° .?""s» ' 



^^ 



THE PRIORY-O.X-THE-WATER. 



iigMI^ 



r]it have been Id a cottage, and an iiQlimll«d Biip)>1]r of 
ich Dnrels, were all that RusCace eeetiied to requir« to 

Sj. She bad beguD by liuing the walis of hi* atudjr niili 
eather of new and fnshiouable design— a wonderful combink- 
^. void giDid, brDWDs, and redii ; lind bong up poriiiru of imita' 
'ODMin tapestry, and had ordered fiom TuCteiiliani Ckiurt Boad 
nasi lomlvely KOfgeouB and most compHcated modera suite wt 
Ihe art of uphokterer could produce fur the delectacioik of Btnati 
countTf gentlemen. Eustace, hovrever, rebelled ai;ahiBt the chi 
which concealed, in their capacious arms and under their sti "' 
(tigarelie caskets and nsh receplaclex, reading-desks, Imyi 
(U'nblera, and other conveuiences. He declined the mngn 
writing-table, wirh ilB appliuncea for reducing literary kbuur ta ^ 
i>, and ordered in the old arm-chair and the bureau nliiob 
. . . bad sent to the lumber-room. 
My dear child," he said to her in his elaborate manner, " pray 
Cooaah your own laalo as regards the rest of the house, and play 
about aniong the relicB as much as you pteo^e, but do me the InostW' 
mable favour to respect my notion? of comfort, which are elemental ~ 
I admit. I can't smoke and go to sleep and enjoy ' Richard Omi 
roy'when I'm leaning against newHiisaian leather that makeB 
amcll a]l the day like a freshly bound Christmas gift-book." 

Eustace Kfnway did not take kindly to the pnrt of country gentle- 
man. He bnd not his brother's power of adaptability or his brother's 
nmbitinn. He could not sboot well, and he thought bunting a great 
deal of trouble for nothing. 8ciioul boards and patly sessions were 
lieyond him, and he did not feel any interest in crops or in short- 
boms, and hated young lamba, except with the aocompHniraents of 
green peas arid miut sauce. He was Tory colourless. If he had any 
special tendency, it was in the direction of ait, but ho had always 
been too poor or too Insy to cultivate it. He winced a little at 
Zenobia's robust and vigorous attacks on life, in wliiob she got all she 
could out of it. It seemed to hiia like eeeing a bjxing match. She 
jarred a good deal upon his nervifs. He somctiraes suggested that 
ibno was a waut of repose in her tnannera. Her anorgy appeared tt 
him like that of a Hail ; but it whs a ]K>int of honour with bim not 
to tnlerfcTB in her way of amusing herself. Hn did not suppose that 
the country craze would last long, find then, ha concluded, they would 
/o to Pai'ia or London, where be could always find enjoyment. Bo 
Zenobia, li'ft to her own devices, did play about among the relics. 
She ordered down an army of workmen and uphoUtereis, and very 
noon effected not a mere change, but rather a radical revolution in the 
appearance oftue Priory-on-the-Water. 

Cricbtun Eenway and bis wife did not cope on the 2nd, as Zenobia 
bail suggested, Morse's shooting party took place on the IsC, and 
Crichton was not willing to misa it. He was particularly anxious tu 
npiMaron good terms with the coming man, as Uorse was consideredi 
mid then the bachelor party was very pleasant for him. Lord Ari'" 



i 



1 



ISO «THE RIGHT HONOURABLE* 

was in it, Rml the two or three fellows of whom Morse lijd 
turned out to be young |iolitieians of diatinction ; men to talk with 
nbout the coming elections. Crichton did not look forwArd cicber 
with Tery great pleasure to visiting hia brother in the refurblshei) 
unceatral home, thougli he created quite a pretty part for himEelfMn 
Kort of deposvii sovereign, jolied about the primitive Bimnlicity of th« 
Grey Manor, and never let any one forget tiiat be was the ddeat eun. 
and should by right be roianing at the Priory. No one took atiy 
trouble to inquire hack into the Kennay genealogy, and, on the whole, 
Crichton made an excellent impression in the oounty wt a capital «bol, 
a likely man in ibe burning field, and a clever, affable fellow, quite in 
the Grat rank of society. Altogetber it was felt to be a great pity 
that he bod not secured the heiress. No one thought much ol 
EoBtaoe, who seemed too lazy even to fall off a horKe. 

Crichton was asked to dine and sleep at Broniswold, and to shoot m 
the following day. Lady Betty had not yet returned, though she was 
eKpected the next week, and therefore Koorili was not included in 
the invitation. Slie bad not seen Morse since that night, of self- 
revelalioD. She sometimes wondered within herself bow it would be 
possibis for ber to talk to him ever ^ain in the old, free, unembu- 
lused manner, and was glad to think that she was going away for a 
little while, and would meet him, if she must meet liim, in tlia Prioiy 
■troosphere, and not amid the melancholy, poetic surrouudings of the 
Qrey Manor. 

Zenobia drove over on the aftornoou of the 2ud to see ber slster4ii- 
law. She looked an odd, incongruous figure in her slarlling French 
costume, as she stood in the hare hall and gazed rouod ber, and then 
at Koorkli, with an expression of sympathetic dismay. So thought 
Arden, who bad slipped away from the shooters and had found his way 
along the river to call on Koor&li. 

"Weill I don't wonder that you like London best," s^d Zcnobin 
abntptly, after having drawn a docp broHih. 

"But 1 don't think I do like London best," replied KoorUl, wilb 
her gentle smile. " Wu are very happy liuru, the boys and L" 

Zenohia's higb'heelcd French shoes clacked on the stone flogr as 
glie walked round and inspected the dilapidated onk panelling. 

" I should want a lot of things dona to make me comfortable in tk's 
place," she said frankly; and one could not belp thinking that she wa^ 
oo the point of saying, " beastly place" 

"What sort of things, Mrs. Eustace Kenway?" asked Lord Arden, 
coming forward. "I should like very much to know what would 
make you happy." , 

" Why, Persian carpets and big screens to keep out the drangbtk 



and divans and blue china, and pots and pans, don't you know 
pnlm<trees, and a man in armour dotted about here and there.** 



Twoor three ancient Itomans dug out oi tie encampment! 



suggested Ardcn- " Have you gut any lor the Priory, Hm. 
"I've onknv) three Unisuders," replied Zen prompily. 






THE PR10RY-0N~THEAVATER. 



tt»j oiin be got somewben — nt Whitelny'g, prrfmps, ilnn'l yoo think? 
Uv suodne^i, Kuor^li, you do look tbin and pate I Hare you been 
ill?" 

Tlia blood rushed lo KooriJi'a face, mtikins it whita no lonjter. The 
chaDge in hsr wna indeed noticeable. It had Btriich Ardcn ths inttAnt-, 
ba «>w her, and lie had been full of ptin and wonder, certain t: 
lumt Hctet troulila weighed upon lier. She whs wan, and ber featuriL^ 
ceemed ahurpcr, while her eyes btul tlie BCraincd, smarting look whie^| 
lielokeDs tears kept resolutely hack. She had BulTererl niueh duiinpa 
the past few days. Every word and look of Crichion'H hnd probed hec 
woiuid. He had come homo in the mood for endearmcnis, which he 
etanmandcd, rather ibaa entroaled, and Koorill's repulsion to kiuet, 
■cceptcd by her hitbertu asa fact in hor life lo be patiently subniilUd 
to, I^ now become keen agony and hnmiilslion. ~ 

Senng her emlmrrnaBiiient at Zcnobia's abrupt eiclamallon, Arda) 
wid,''Ihave b«en telling Mrs. Ken way that I don't think the ri — 
miBta agree with her.' 

"She muBt have a change right away," said Zenobia with energy, 
and, turning to Koo:^Ii, ailded, " What day hare you and Grichton 
fixed QpoD ? I am very angry with you foi putting me olT. He ooiilii 
have shot at Bromswold just as well from ua, couMu't he now. Lord 
Aideo?" 

" We are coming on Monilay," said KoorMi. 

" And you. Lord Ardeu ? " continued Zenobia, " you and Mr. Mors 
Ton are going to ahoot and Etop fur dinner. The Admiral Novi 
Beauchamp is to be with us, ami a London masher for Jo. It wilt 
a queer kind of party — a little of all sorts. London swells and Sieve 
Uobito, yeoman." 

"Ihave heard a great deal about Steve Dobitu," said Lord Ard«n. 
"I particularly want to meet bim. Ho is a man with views." 

"He is very anxious to improve Mr. Morse's luind," said Zenobhi, 
"and BO I thought I'd juat give liim a chance, Eualace and Mrs. 
Nevile said that dinner parties wouldn't be in his line," pursued Zen 
tefleclively. "I abouldn't think they were much; but if he wants 
his pudding before his meat, why, he gbell have it." 

"I don't know that there la aay eternal principle Involved In the 
eating one's nitat before one's pudding," Arduu said redfctively. 

"1 think puddings beastly anyhow and anywhei-o," Zoa affirmed, 
with all tlie warmth of evident sincerity. " But you know. Lord 
Aiden, it wa^in't that I meant. I only meant that I wanted the poor 
man to have bis way. [ wasn't thinking about puddings." 

" Dear Zen, I am sure Lord Arden quite undefsb-od that you were 
apeoking the kngunge of metaphor," Koorikli said, with a compaBsionata 
amile, poor Zen seemed so eager to vindicate hersulf. 

"One don't waut lo he thought to be always talking Donsense and 
vulgarity," Zen pleaded apoIogatlcaUy. 

" You always talk very gMd sanHe," Lord Arden aiud gravely, aotl 
with a detennioGti cBbft to breakthrough hia Imbitual sbjneu, r ' 



1 

nk?^^ 

The , 

tbafc^H 

uiinp^B 
dhet 1 
:h he 

liUed " 

H^ 

Olllll 

Itbs.^l 



, gravely, anii i[ 
sbyneu, Md|^^ 



IS2 ^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? H 

Bay exnctty nbat be felt and wbat he wanted to eay, " and ^era nerip' 
could ba vtlgarity where lliere is no affectation," 

" Come, now, ain't that nice ? " Zen said, and a dash nf colour came 
into her face. In truth. Lord Arden ebw as cltarty as Koorili did the 
trnthfulness, the wumonlineGS, underneath thot Farisian bodice; the 
Ehrend honest good Hense in that little black cropped hi'sd. nod which 
all Zen's own iTory bruahes, and all the ivory bruaheB " btsndiabed" 
by Diarseli'B duchesBeH, could not scrub out of it. 

EoorMi felt a little vague enthusinam at tbey approached the Priory 
on the appointed daj. She glanced at ber buubaod as they drove up 
the Tillage atreet, to see if the place awakened old memorica. Sba 
eould have felt much sympathy with bini in such a mood. But he 
was leaniiig back in the carriage looking sullen and perplexed. She 
seemed to know by a sort of Hasbicg instinct that be was weighing 
tbfl for and againat Morse's accession to power, and apcculiiting with 
an absolutely concentrated regn-rd to his own interest whether it 
might not be wiser to accept the proverbial " bird in the hand," thttn 
to wait fur Ilic problematical " two in the bnah." To ber surpnse he 
did not seem to know how to direct the coachrran when the Utter 
appealed to him, and Ibey were obliged to afik the way to tlie PrSury 
of an old man by the roadside. 

" I suppose that you wero very young when you went away from the 
place?" sue said, wundtring a liitle,fur she bad oftvn Iieard bint spnik 
of his "old home," 

" My father left it before I was bom," be answered shortly. Thefo 
was sileoco again, and she had no remark to make on the quaint arched 
gateway with a grey stone pigeon-cote on either side. 

The bouse was an imptising structure, a massive pile, with twu 
wings forming stables and offices, connected with Ihe main buildioiC hr 
high hattlemented walls. These were curved, so that the wbolo blocK 
was in the shape of a semicircle with a gigantic yew hedge, cat into 
pyramids and turrets, at iis base. I'he jiride of the Priory lay in ita 
yew hedges and in Ihe terraced gatden at the back. This could tie 
seen easily as the carrijige wound up a (gentle skipp, for here the Lynda 
vsllcy nsrrowed, and on one side the ground rose higher than is usual 
in that flat county. Three bi-oad terraces built up with alon« led 
down to Ihe river. The massivo walls were buttressed, each buttress 
surmounted by a weather-beaten slutue. Is the embrasures, great 
trees ol myrtle and magnolia fiourislied, and (here were quaint borders 
like tbe border at the mill, and scarred steps and baluEtrados, and 
a rose garden where the rose bushes were nut sttlT straight staiidarda, 
but wandered at their sweet with Upon none of these things bad 
Zenobia yet hnd time to lay the doaokliiig hands of reform. 

The drive Bwept to the front of the house wilhin (he/ew hedge, and 
round a smooth stretch of lawn that bad once been a li',vr!iTig-gr««n. 
An ancient sun-tliDl stood opposiU) the hall door. The building wm 
of the famous grey stone, but disfigured as far as the natural Teining 
aai pa)X>A hue would permit, for Zen, in ber arduur fur dwillik — 



«HillrX»fcj 



THE PmORY-QN-THE-WATER. I 

off tbe reddiah brown lichen, had pruned ftway ibo \ 
Wot, and had nilhleaaly uprooted iba seedlingg wliidi t 
' sown in iha cnnniea and on the tops uf tbe old wulls. 
lurilered Tootmen threw Ofien the doora. There wrs % «ou 
mij laughter as they were led into (he Inrge inner hall, wbi 
Bfortable indeed, and picturesque, notwithstanding it4 n 
the tTsditionivt and the essenitallj modem — of the Pull 
id Flessis-les-ToufB, and though th« saucy little taUes, 
lin, the goi^eous t^ivans in rerainn taiiestry, the glo* 
vdret pile, the tambourinca painted after Van Been, 
lin monkey B hnnging on to the scrccna, seemed at varlai 
gTMned ceiling, the tjothic arches of the oak Btniroafu), ( 
1 tnantel with its coat of &rm«, which Zen firmly believed 
ihtful trophy of the Kenwa-ys, 

Lutlemen had come in froni flhootine. Moree, looking 
lid handsome and somehow unlike himself in Iim rough gcof,' 
tbe fireplace talking to Ens-tace, who was twirling a ciiiivi-otU' 
his delicnte fingera. Mrs. Nevile-Beauchatup, Jo a Kedfem 
ivhich subtly combined ih-e (esthetic and the rural, and the 
ciquisitB leather boota crosRrd in an attitude thnt revealed a 

it islhmuB of scarlet silk stockiiisr, lounged on one of the divans 

Mias Jo, very demure and eleik, made tea, with the Admiral and the 
well-got-up and extremely talkative "maaher" iu attendance. Zen 
henelf, waa seated upon a plush foaf, which was a triumph of FariBiun 
It was iotended to represent a large toadstool in (he nnliirBl 
. .ly yellow, aad had green £atin frogs clusteriai; round tbe ste 
She herself looked ns incongruous as the toadstool, her healthy broi 
Britt^ face, her curly black crop, bar square sliouldera and substsnti 
IJmbe bdng very much out of keeping with her French tefl-):DWQ 
old gold plush, elaborately adorned with cascades of lace— a >:nrinG 
that Sarah Bernhardt might have appropriately worn iu " Froii-Fiou, 
and with her liigh-lieeled embroidered shocB and old gold stockiiiga. 

There nae a flutter among the group as Kooi^li and her Iiushand 
eulered, Eustace laognidly greeted his brother, and Zeu embraced 
her nister-in-law with effusion. Morse did not at once come forward, 
but Kooiikli had seen bim the instant her glance swept the room. As 
ho looked at the littla face framed hy a block hat with drooping 
feathers, he fancied that tbe flender form round which her soft dark 
draperies hunsr, it seemed to him like the draperies of no other wotnnii, 
nas eren slendttrer and more fragile tlian when ho bad last t^een it not 
many days ago. 

Some women, though they may be insignificant of fltoture, unasser- 
tive and absolutely unconscious of any wish to make an effect, ai-e 
jn, in recomiwnse, a certain magoetic power of arresting and absorb- 
_ atientioiu Aa KoorSJi stooil and untwisted the lace scarf from her 
throat, ebe was, for the moment, the one object of interest to every 
ye in tbe room. It was as though tbe chief nctress in tbe drama bad 
pjicared suddenly on tbe scene. There wo.s about KnniMi that sinj- 



iubI 
em^^J 

i 



IS4 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

gestiDD of tragic slory, lived through or yet to come, that n _ 
TXeatiuj's cross, which oae sees nnff and itgain ia the face ami feri 
man or womsc, which is eo tmui^kable Bud bo hard to explnli' 
dwcrilie. 

Morso shook hands gravely, almost silently, witli Koorili, ai_ . 
drew hack. Ardea pushed forward a chair. J&rs. Nevile-BauieU 
made her proper littla Hpeech, and the " nutsher," Mr, Eric, -dui 
the tap of his conversatioa from lawn tennis to Lord and Lftdr B 
mont'a place in the HighlaDds, where he hftl expected to meat "SnA 
He hod once tskea her down to dinner at their house in London. ] 
Mr. Erie was a young man rich in conTcruilional resourMSwI 
waa in diijlomBcy, and was mnkiag fair progress, chiefly by rirW 
his resolve always to talk on the right subject, to the right peTBon.fl 
bod just come from Copenhagen, nnd had ambitious hope of Wa^ 
loo. Koorili was not long In observing that he had the proper tl 
conversation always ready to turn on. He had chaff for ZenB 
t-ilked politics with a Kuhducd deferential air when ha was spcoktF 
Morse i the air of one who saya, " I koow my future master ; I 
olTcr my meek suggestions, but of course I await his commands ; 
conversed of hunting anil old county families to Cricbton, and therebf 
secured at ouce the good opinioti of that ecion of ancient line. 'Sn 
angled about a good deal with Koorili, not being quite certain when 
to have her. He tried high life, because lie undertitood that she tru 
a friend of Lady Belty Morse; and then ho tried Bohemia; and neither 
was successful, as be could sea at a glance. Then be veutured cb 
views of life itself; and after a while was lucky enough to have the 
conversation interrupted. 

" You see we are refreshing oursolvoa," raid Zenobia, in her abrupt 
voice. " Will you have some tea, or some sherry and hitters ? " 

KoorHli shook her head at the sherry and bUlcr«, and asked for tctL 
which Morse brought her, and n few commonplaces were eicbangeil 
about the di-ive and the relative distance of ttromawoM and the Ore/ 
Manor. Koor^li's voice was constrained. 

" I beg to stale that I am not drinking sherry and hitters because I 
like such stulT," continued Zen, " but bocause I've had neuralgut all 
day. It's nerves, Eustace thinks 1 haven't any right to have ueires. 
I've bought them from Jo — haveo't IJo ? She's a Ntvilc-Ueauchamp, 
and can sjiare them." 
Eustacelookedaunoyod, and Criohton put in with a chaorful laugh — 
" By Jove, if you want to make that sort of investment, my wife is 
the person to apply to." 

" We've been in a muddle," said Zen, " Haven't we, Jo? The fur- 
niture people have only just gone away. I'm going to show you my 
diggings presently ; I think they'll do. I have been having a battle 
With Mr. Morse," she went on iu her discursive fashion, " because I'm 
a Conservative, and I've joined the Primroso League. Are jou a 
Liberal or a Conservative, Koorili? Will you give me your ut 
If 1 can get thirteen names, I can have the Priory made into a 'i 



■^r- 



THE PRIORY-ON-THE-WATBR. 



1 






Minii,* and then I shall g^t ftshed to nich a lot of lo?el; flincti 
Mr. Moree, if jou'd hAvea K«publicnn Longn?, and Liuly Bc'ty trt 
iitirt a pretty coatume for it — say ctowdb aad sceptres upsido doi 
dcoe in gold embroidery on an mu (b Xif ground— something n 
fend iBOTe decided than piimciisB.1, I think I'd join your party 
baeoma a Radical." 

There was a general lough. Every one knew Liidy Betly'a roynliai 
de*oticin. Morse laughed ti>o; he never lost his seuso of humour. 
Zenobia dislingiiished herself hy some mora remarks in tlie same strslib 

"Come, Mrs. Keiiway, is that your notion of political mornlityf 
«tid Lo«d Arden, turning to her ivith a serio-comio expresaioo. " Tfa 
ia DO doubt th.tt the tailor who invented the primroso «kirt will be 
iafiueoce in deciding the elections. 'J'he Admiral is griered. He speofc^ 
•ome time, while we were n-ailing at Dingle Comer for tFie Irish «l«w 
to arrive, in trying to persuade rue that women ware worthy of a voCv, 
and you contradict all bis arguments by insisUng on being frivolous." 

"No! Rcailyl" eiclaimed bland Mr. Nevile-Beauohamp — heof t!ie 
dnwl ; Zen called him the " Interject ional Inqvurer," bccaiue he 
opened his mouth except to utter an ejaculation or to ask a que 
"Ought women to have n vote?" 

" I Cell you what converted nic," said Ihe Admiral, n short man 
K nailing voice and gt^^te eyes like those of a pug. " 1 wa^ onucslny- 
tug in a country hoiiiia where tber« were five men and seven ladi ti. 
The Channel tunnel question came under our quarter. 'I'lie men, witli 
tha exception of myulf, wire for it. The ladies voted with me agHitut 
it. Nuw, women are always sick," 

■WLal? ■' asked the Inquirer, bending forward. He wasa littledi'af. 

"Kck — sea-Mt-k, don't you know," said the Admiral shortly. "Tlie 
only Bi^ument I can see in bvour of Ibe tunnel is that it savea the 
CKMiiiig for people who get sick. Now, I said to myself, if women, 
«lw ara always sea-sick, can be so disiniercat»,i in this one questiuo, 
Sl^ are capable of Laving a voice in others ; and that's how ttiey got 
su round." 

MrsL Novile-Beauchamp purred her eonf ribulion to the conversation 
to ber Lbin staccato voice, with her chin |)oked forward. The Admiral 
WU jtK'fo in the wrong. Ue knew nothing at all about it. She was 
nulte sure that no one nice could over want women to have voles. 
Siie had been staying with a certain " Balloch " and " Lady Harriet." 
I^ady Harriet waa quite, quite crazy on " woman's rights." She won- 
dered how any one could make a friend of Laily Harriet, who waa 
ccrtunly "very amart," but quite ihe ugliest woman anJ so strong- 
minded 1 

"Idon't want to put women into Parliament," s-tid Zen. "I think 
there are lots of things more interesting than lliiit. In fact, I think 
the primrosn people beastly slow, nearly as bod us my guardians. I 
ahottld like to make something Livppon to me. Nothing has ever 
b«p{wQed tn mc in my life, except getting married. I've got no Una 
ot (ate. If you look nt my hand, you'll sre." ~ 



>S6 



"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 



Tlipm wu somelliiDg comically wi»tfal in her expression 
out her square pnlm. Mr. Etle took it Id hia, aud turned dq tt 
ofchironiBticy. Eustace rose. Ben looked r>t bira. 

" Wt.it are you teckoning to Uie Ailmiral for?" she nuked, * \( 
iiro you going lo take him and Mr. Morse?" 

" We are going to play liilliarda. Come, Criclitoo." 

The Admiml and Cricbton fullowed bim, als> Mr. Nevile>H 
cbamp. Morte remaiaed. 

Zen's face fiushed a little, nud she heaved a petulant aigli ■ 
door closed behind tiiem. " That's Eusloce's polite way of lettid 
kiiuw tliat my converFalion borca him. Well, n«'t-e got rid C 
husbanda, any way, Ihnt'it otic comfart. The>e must be a n 
you know ; Reab and blood can't atand it. You can'l 
your loiDB girt and yrjtar lamps burning." 

Mrs, Kevile-Bcaucbnmp took up ber crewel work i: 
manner. Lord Arden Inughed. 

" Your views on matrimony are not any more eneouragin^B 
your political opisiona, Mra. Eustace." 

" Well," returned Zen, frankly, " I don't know why girls an 
bleBsed fools aa to marry ; da you, Kaor^li ? Some of them do 
It trouESi au and to be independent of their guurdinns, and they're 
very small change for Ihcir money. 'J'hat'a all I can say. Th 
gets everything, and tbe woman get^ nothing except snnhbing — 
she's a c — cat," aud Zen siole a Hide glance at the Admiral'K '' 

"The man gets everything?" repeated Lord Arden, "L 
aider the question. It'H a very interoKting one — to me, as a 
at any rate. Lot us see— what doea the average man gain by marri 
in comjjarison with Ihe average woman ? " 

" A home," sententiously observed Mra, Nevilu-Beauehamp. 

"From which he is supposed to absent himself between breakfast 
and dinner," Lord Arden said. 

"There's no place like home," said Zen sentimentally; and then 
recovering ailded, " So Ihe biisljaiid seems to thick, and that'a why bo 
likes any otiier place better," 

"But come— what doea the average man get by marriage?" Lord 
Arden perxistcd. 

"'Jhe right to flirt without danger of an action for breach of 
promise," said Mr. Erie. 

» But with the danger of a joUy good wigging from his wife," said 
Zen. 

"I have hoard it declared," Mi>rse observed, " that he gets. If he ia 
lucky, illusion converted into delusion. But that Isu't my deGnition." 

'* Can't we have Lord Arden's own views ? " Koorlli asked. 

"Tha man &tls into biudage," said Lord Arden. ''The woman 

emanol|>atea heraelT. Hern's n case. Take a girl — one of three or four 

sisters — who has been out several seasons. Other sisters are coming 

Dressicg up has got to be a bore. She is tlreJ of standing in If ' ' 

...I «».« ™.-.i... I'u — !„ ..„ (nvU\ct tioccEsU^ to dceas nW* 




Thcro ia 



"I* ."F «... 

TUB PRtORY-ON-TUE-WATER. 

• % pncl'cal oiiii- SIic hop got her paamotion. Slie \a» gut hi 
IBbe cao go to the ihi-atre with n pleasant little [»irljr of 
■mmen, nnd sup nt the Orlenos, without har huebnntl. Sli<i \Mt 
"^IJn-mDncy, set 1 1 en: outs, ntw drcasea, aiid a house of her uvvd 
.Wedn't mention luve. I sugipum thiit imsao!*." 

^Mj! aiii'l we cynical!" Zen eivlainivd. "Wliat wS-dom 
aarel Hnven't we studied ihu qi>(«tinn, to be sure? BiicLelori' trii 

d mttidx' children are well luatm^ti], we all know ! " 

"Womeo are narrow," pureoed Anion composodly. "They 
_ re for their own occujiaticD", TLiey dun't take the trouble t<> i 
their hnsband's ioterests. The hurlh-inii goes home. What do 
ftodr A Etiipid wife who can't or won't raJk to him on hie mihji 
Ten to one sh« is dyin^ to go out and shoiv off a new dress. S!ie all 
Cimteuted to go out alone. Bbe wants her liuaband — not fui 
piMSUre of his society, but because she wanis him to bring h«r homo 
"~'~ And snppoBiDg that Ihey go in for a domestic evoninji two 

airs by the fire and so forth. He sits down in one, 'i'lieu, ns 

I mid, what is there to talk about? There soon comes ihit sort of 
leelinK," and he comicBlly drew his band across bis throat. ~ 

"I don't know anything about it." said Morse with an air of foi 
mielj. "Betty and I n«ver get a cliance of an evening to ouraeli 
KoT«r shall, I soppoae. I don't know what you are talking about.' ^ 

" There's something in what Ardca says," exckimed Mr. Erie, wbo 
•oemad impresaed by the view oi the question, " Why do we marry ? 
Because we are fools. Mrs. Eustace itenway is right, it's like duck 
footing. See nhnt one goes through for tJie sake of one duck — and 
wbeti you've got him I It's the saiae thing. 1 fall in luve. I propnao. 
Why? She is wearing a dolour 1 admire, or we've been diincing 
together to a wallz 1 like, or I've got a little too much champagne on 
boardl" 

* We haven't henrd a word of Mrs. Crichton Kenwiy'a views on the 
^Mt matrimonial question, nnd tlie relative guius and tosses of man 
and mnnxD," Ardi'n suggested. 

Uorse was drawing out of iho conversation, but he checked himself 
now, and bs looked at EoorMi, who started a little and liaw that all 



rt of 



"Oh, please leiive 
en speak the language. 
~"r dear, what nonsense!" Zanobia oricd. 



" she pleaded, quite earnestly. "1 d 
Whatever do i 



^"t understand," Arden said, 
1^ uid Morse. " Quitfl." 



T^JE KTGHT. 



CnAPTEB XIX. 



Yta, he uniicratood her, quite. Ho kru'W ex-iorly all tha meBniirg A ' 
her wurds; and he ihoiigbt the simple words expressed her meaning 
with pnvi^iun niid fulnera. She did iioL Epeak the language of LondoD 
society, on that Berious, sod quoBtioa of man and woiDan's association, 
She u'M mnde to be hnppy and to give out happineBs; aad Mona 
knew too well ihat she was not ha))py. Sbc was made to be the fon), 
devoted wife of a true-hearted husbaud, to whom Bhe could turn irith 
pyt's of love, to whom alie could liwk up with gescrous adaiiintiaD. 
The marriage queBlion could hardly seem to her all jocular. Mens 
be;;an to find that be was all uncoasciouslf growing to undi-cstaud her 
but too wclL He began to find that ha was getting into the way of 
turning his eyes on ber and waiting with deep iiitcreat for what Ata 
was to say. This had been gtung on with him for some time indeed, 
but be was now beginuing to grow coD!<cious of it. He found himseU 
wiitching over ber life, if one mi^ht put it in that way. Sbo began lu 
nccupy a hrge spreading space in hia thoughts. This troubled him, 
iiltliough there was a sweetuess ia it too for the over-bujy much pro- 
ucciipiM atatesaian. 

Koor^U's protestation of her inability to speak the laogunge and 
Morse's declitrntion th.it he understood what atie meant, put « slop 
to tbe diecuEsion on the relative alvantages of matrirouny to man 
and man's male. Tlie tca-driuking was OTerj the little group was at 
liberty to disperse. 

The open air was tempting \a most of the guests. Mr. Erie went 
with Mrs. Nevile-Beauobamp into tlie conservatory to get some 
Etephanotig; Morse and KoorUi found tbemselves alone on tlie lower 
terrace. They walked up and down sloivly. It was vtry £tlll uid 
peaceful here, and the air waa full of the fn^rance of myrtl*^" 
late roses, ■ 

A dream-like Kense of content stole over Eooritli. "I niS'^ 
happy," she si-eraed to be ivhiapering to hersulf, aud her hesrt wsn' 
speaking wbiie they paced almost the length of tlie terrace in ailc 
"Wliy should I not I* glad that 1 am near bim? Why should I be 
afraid? A woman bns not any need to be afraid when slio haa to deal 
with a man like him. I atn not afraid or ashamtrd, now. There 
would be sbamc if bo were not the most loyal man who lives. He is 
the truest and tlie most byid. 1 know him and 1 bonour bim. 1 could 
look into his eyes as he might look into mine, without a sbaJuw of 
shame, fur our souls would understand each other." 

Thiuking of this, she did turQ her durk, mekncbol; eyes towards 
him. His were downcast. Sbe had never before set-D bim bo grave. 
There wns a curious exprfEsion on hia face — a look atern, pure, and 
reiiolute, yet unutterably sad. Before sbe could turn ber eyos away 



'till uid 
rtlAjM 

silenOB^^ 




■■ *T00 EARLY SEEN l/NA'JVOWM' >^| 

Red audiietilj- niund, a« if he fand become conscious or her ga^^^ 
of ber thoughts. Thrir «jes met. His look snemed fi>r une 

moment to cliug to hers, na if he ncre dumhly b^wiechl'ig her pnnlon, 
dumbly assuring her thut she might r«ly on bira to be silent nnd loyal. 
Jn that iDfitant their bouIb faced each olbcr fnirly. Tbej t 
loopr looping in darknefs. Then they both looked ana]) 

«Boae of neanieEs to him wliiBh she felt was a rush of joy. 01 _. 

ke woald never tell ber what was la his heart. ThtB she knew, t. 
tbs knew ber own heart. He wouhl ne^er lell ber that be loved hii 
He would never ask ber if she lored him. A miked aword was plae ~ 
betveen tbem, like timt whidi the ;routh Aladdin in tlie Anibiau b 
Wl with bia own hiind between liim aad the priuceBs iie ndora 
Kooiiti knew that \a word and deed they woiitd be no more to ooo 
tbao the merest acquaintances — less than friend^. It might indi'ei. 
i)u thnt this waa their farewtU. l!ut no matter. They knew. At tho 
■DoineDt there whb one and the sitine picture before the mind and 
memory of each — that fariing Bccae in Aualralian walora ond the 
Amtnlian dawn, lung ago. ^ 

Kooriiii'a lipa parted in a long sigli. For a moment or two abd 
btudlj knew where nhe wtis, or wiint had happened ti ' 
bad: in tbo Australian dawn. 

Presently Morse spoke in a deep nnoved voice. " We undenitand ei 
Qther ; there is nothiivz more to «aj ; now or at any otber time. 
a great misfortune. We have got to hear it" 

"Yes," sbo answered simply; and then the woman in hor RpiJ 
"Still, I am glail to know," Bhe said; and there was silence a^in. 

" Ei-orMi," Uorse i^aid abruptly. The sound of her Chrialinn name, 
wbbb be so seldom uttered, thrilled ber with a sense of dL-ligbt— 
all tbe more perhaps becnuse the emotion in it was behl so deter- 
minedly in check. "There is something else I do want to talk nbouL 
1 Bskcd you to tbink over the idea of a colonial appointment for your 
busband. I had oob in view, and yesterday I heard again from Loril 
OiKilmoDt, in whose gift it is. Your huabaod may have the ofTi-r of ft 
goTernorahip in Famesia, one of the newly annesci) islands. It id ' 
governorship of all the islands, in fact. Coulmoot autliorizes mt 
iipeak to bini. I couLI not do so till I hod spoken to you again ; _ 
1 ought to writs 10 him to-morrow, Wa are political eusmies, but 'i 
are personal friends, and he has promised me." l 

Koorili was silent, her lips pressed lightly togitlicr, her eyes dowi 
CMI, in deep thought. He couid see that her f^cc, under t£e Ebadaj 
of her btuck fiathera, had gut very nhite. 7 

"llie climate la faiily good," Morse continued in the same leig 
tones, " more healthy than that of South Britain, I once ajient a fei 
watks thcra. Tbe Eociety is fairly good also ; and there is capita 
abootlug and a summer residence in the bills. There would he plenty 
to do of ft pleasant kind. I think your husband wuuld like iL And 
ft)f you" — his roice ehangeil suddenly — "it wuuld, perhape, Iw 
bet'er." 



"MBS 



•BOItOimAAISfi^ 



Slill Kuoritli did not turn loivn.rda him or speak. She 
to vpiiik. Sbu felt Hint if slie tried to raise her voice she i 

"'I'here is the alternative of truatin^ to what I can do for ;on In 
EngUnd," Morse said. " Tuu won't mind my spealiicg so frsnXly? 
I know that Mr. Kcnwa; dcjicnded more or leas on the Soulh Biiui 
Government, and that bu has no great private fortune." 

Koorlli shook bet head. She seemed to wish to Bpeak, but ^ 
words did not come. He saw tliat she v&a suffering. ' 

" There u one thing I implore yon to take into your mind eoA y 
heart," he said eamesily. " la any way that I con serve you, I bi 
a right to do so. Don't you know there ore boads, rolaiioDBUip^fl 
H'hich ttiat is the only right wliiob con l>e claimed, and which o 
not to bo denied?" He wiiilcd a moment, and then went on, "i 
the elections, tt may be in my power to help my friends, but tl 
is no ceriaiuty about it. The political aituatioo may be such tki. , 
with my convictiiina I may be una.ble to accept ceEpoasibility even it 
. If war takes place, I should be practically 
If, on the other hand, the war party U m tlm 
st ci.me inle office. But I dutfc think that 
am buuud in justice to put Ibis view of the case 
His own judgment will guide him, and perhaps 



B thrust upon i 
powerless — for a lime, 
minority — well, I uiu 
likely, in the least. 1 
before your b^^hlud. 



KoorMi spoke out now, and answered steadily. " I wilt ask hlm-^ 
will beg him to accept the appointment and take m" out of Englai 

The Etraiaed look on Morse's face relaxed. Uer decision } 
evidently a relief to liim. 

" Tell ma that 1 am lighl,'' Koorkli saiil, and there was a _ 
trembliog io her voice. "Tell me that you ihink it will bu bvttoijl 
me to go away. Tell me that yOJi'd rather " 

She stopped DUilJenly, stirred by the esprertsion of his face , 

ing of the keenest belt-abasement. How could she dare to make & 
more difGcult to him aad to lierself ? Bin ftice told bet what he wi5 
suffering. It might have been cut out of iron but for the eytsi and 
the inteuBS pity, the airuggliug teuderness, the deep anguish in them, 
were almost more ihnu she could bear. Ifeither spoke fur soma , 
moments. She kne iv that in thia forced self- repression lay hia <a ' ~ 
strength. She stopped ahru[)tly ia her walk. 

"No," she exclaimed, "I won't ask you — anything — except toll 
me tc go away. I'm glad lo think you can help me to do that. ^ 
will spesk 1u Cricbton tonight? Xou will urge him, for his A 
sake, to take what Lord Coulniont offeia you. Oh yes, I knowi 
kuow liow good you are— how liue. If be refuses, tbea I will ( 
him to toke it — for my sake." 

^'ben she moved away. He joined her, and they mounted the i 
stepa without a word. When they had reached the upper terrace, d 
flood for a miaute leaning ngainst Ibe time-worn balustrade BS if^ 
lake breath ur to nerve herself befurc going into the u'orld again, j 



TOO EARLY SEEI^ UNKNOWN.' i6l 

Jeaned over the ivy-grown railing, s fragile little black figure, her 
bead tinned away from him, her chin TipMiseii. The aim hi ■ ' ' 

ner facs whs ouUined ngninst the Te<1 glow that ehone acmat 

Be saw tbe muscles Ju ttie blender throat quivering, and the great 
dork eye» grow hirger and fuller, as though tears wtre willing in Ihem. 
All al ODCp, she made a surlden tnovcment, and faced him with hrigfat, 
plated eycB, and Hpa hardened into a conventional smile. Ilrr little 
laugh rang out clearly. She had talten up her part ngain, and the 
thtFUght tratiBkted itself into nordEL 

"I don't think that I'm a person who goes in for theatrical effect," 
the said lightly; "but what atrikea tnc most about England, in ooii- 
nut to Australia, is that It's dramatic. Pi<opla group thamselvea irclj, 
Lod the background ia nearly always appropriate io the varied situa' 
Kan of civilized life." 

. "Are you thinkin° that Mrs. Eustace has irtanaged some efTectiva 
grouping J " he askci^ falling into her mood witli bu effort. 

ainays the same," she said. "I have been haunted, almost 
ce I came to EnRland, by an odd fancy that the curtain would 
&11 directly. I'liis is like a »;ene In a play — one might imagine the 
/ootligbts down til ere," and she pointed towards the river — "a play 
we saw this season ; do yon remember ? There was a terraced garden, 
ja the second act, and ihcre waa just the right alternation of pretty 
idiawing-Toam comedy and of emotional interest. It was very prolty, 
and it was very iiku real life — tlie afteraonn tea, und the drcBaas, like 
Zon's; and the smart things that were said, and the tragedy which 
liad the stage all to itself when tho right time came. But no one 
«T« forgot to say olover things, and the women always took care thai 
th^ draperies fell becomingly." 

8be paused, but Morse did not laugh or make any jesting remark.' 
She drew herself away from the haluatrade. 

, "I wonder if you could reaob one or two of those roses," she said," 
ptnnting to a cluster of Mar&bal Kiel, which hung from the wall closfl 
to where they stood. " 1 should like to wear tliem to-nigbi, if yoii' 
will gather them for me." 

He did as she asked, and gave the roses to her. As aho held out 
her hands, he saw that they were trembling. She clasped the Bowers 
tightly. 

"Tbauk ycm," she said. "You see, I am like tho people In the 
play. There's always the drusaiiig up to ha thought of. And tho 
curtain will fall on me— on Ibis surt of life, at any rata, if Crichton 
goes to the islands — what ore they called ? I must make tbe most of 
what opportunities arc left me tu be brilliant and worldly." 

Hu' laugh, in wliich there was a false uncertniu note, smote him to 
the Tery soul, lie ftlt at that momoot as one might feel who saw his 
bBst-bebTed child suffering from a blow ho hod unknowingly dealt. 
gbo was so like a child still. Bbe went into the house with her roses, 
and he Idtcrod on the terraco fur a few minutes, 'i'hcn the dreMing- 
^d him also within. 



1 



I 



*7"//£ RIGHT HONOURABLE? 



CHAPTER XX. 



1 



KoorAu came donn to (liniier in a dress which had b(«D ileBigncd for 
her bj- a royal academician,' it nd which had created quito a uciiaation 
at the great LoDdoa partj where abe had first worn it. It was s 
. wcadarful arrangement of rich, clingiiig Eastern stuff, of a |ia]e jeliow, 
antl heavy gold emhroidory ; and it was fashioned ia a mannef quite 
diCTerent from that of any mudera garment. The draperies hnDi< with 
that grace fur ivhich the AiiBtraliao beauty was much celebrated. No 
stiffeDed bodice disR^red ber fonn, but an embroidered scarf was 
cnnningly twUiiid ronnd and round her buBt, the white nect and 
■lender throat cinsped by a band of gold rising above its folds, the ^miH 
showing bare to the shoulders. She wore Morse's roses at her waist. 
There was somctbiag striking and origioal about the dress. It had 
been very much admired and quoted, and it harmonized with her clear 
paleness, her delicate fuatures, snd deep dark eyes. There was no 
particular reason why she Khould wear it upon this occadon, excej't 
that it seemed somehow to suit her mood aud to signalize tbe clodug 
uf a chapter in her life. 

Perliaps she had uever been less herself than upon thin eTcniBA^ 
She was not given to saying hard, Inilliant things, or indeed to Ulkis 
much ia genera! comtiaay. To-aighr, however, she talkoil a |CMM, 
deal, and lau<!;htil and made keen little speeches, whicb hurt Uaiq 
like the thnists of a knife. Ue understood so well what she inteoM 
That he sboutd understand ; and more. It was a poor, pitiful piccad 
bravery. 

Cricnton was pleased in his malign, Skilf-glorifyins way. 
anxious that the impressiiiii sbe bad made upou Horse should 1 
deepened during Lady Botty's absence. Ha hiid a nervous dread iL 
Lady ISetty's ial^rfercnce. He watched MorEe with tbe eyrt of^ 
tracker, and saw ihat bo was preoccupie^i, and that he conaiaa^^ 
looked at Eooi^li. Crichton intBrpreti.il these looks by smokj^L^ 
room theories. He himself only knew one manner ai adeniriilgfl 
pretty woman. He was not displensi'd. He meant to wo'k Hon 
admiralion to his own a>lvan1age. He also admired KoorUi ii '* 
drees and in that mood. 

Zen wss very gorgeous. Rhu twinkled with diamonds and divi 
embroidery. Her train was of brocade, with Jlturt-dt-Ju upon $ 
outlined in silver thread. Her shoes gtiBtcned like Cinderella's gb ' 

slippers, only they were much larger. She awed and deligUled 1 

Dobito, who duly made his appearance, clad in checked trousers, % 
long blue coat with brass butions, and a high collar and neckdolti 
in gi>od old style. Mrs. Nevile-Bcau champ thou;;lit tltat ho la^rA 
fingiilariy out of place in Zen's magnilicent pale yellow drawuig-nMiat ' 
S/w thought ibe foi terrier oulof tlaoo loo, whoa it was brought U * 



*TZ7>v^iro AmroNisffEs JVAr/oJvsr. 






bxhiliiifd. But ficpu bIio saw tliat a grrat county lady, who 
aei^lib rur nud a gtust this cvuniu?, delighteii in the fax tttn 
many qucstiuns tu to ita breid nad capftUlities, and wne 
ttititUAio toini'' with Mr. Dubito. So sba cbaugeil her mind, and 
wUispered to Mr. Erie that it was realiy very picttiresque. 

The dinner was over ; llie women had gone into the drawing-room. 
Hr. Dobito was not Korry. Ho vox of Dr. Johnson'i way of thinking. 
He liked In fold his logs and have hijs talk out, and one could not well 
have bJB talk out where lliere were Indieit. They would oxpecC to be 
kllowed their eay too; and theo they would contradict; and thev 
would not understaud. A ^^i5e man docg not talk to women, though 
be may sometimes oondeBcrnd to talk at them. Mr. Dobito whs a 
Terr wiee mnn. He was really vory clever, shrewd, and sound ; but 
he Wed to hear himself talk, and he indulged in paradox to show how 
clever he was. He bad been taught by his own class to consider hi 
self an otacle. The gentry of the county admired his shrewd tease, 
thorough honesty, and hii straight riding in the hAin ting-Gold, 
they were amused by his oddities and indulged them. This evi 
Ur, Dobito n^as very happy. He had been brought to talk to 
Horse and Lard Arden, axd be mQant to justify his reputation. 
ndmirod Morse ; thought Morse and ho were iho two really aUe 
in the oountry ; oonaideied tlorse Almost equal to himself in nal 
capacity, bat wanting of course in years and experience. 

The claret waa pasaed round. Mr. Dobito smiled condoBcendingly 
■t il^ but would have none (if it. "No, tliank you, Mr. Kenway. 
Kone of your ncw-fangied rubbish for me. They uied to any 'twere 
only Frenchiea that drank claret, nnd that win because they were not 
brought up to anything letter. ITl atick 10 Ihe port." 

He Btuek to the port, which he found excellent, which was excelleoL 
CigarettoB were lighted. Of course hunting had been discusned, as waa 
twtitral in LyndfordEbire, but Mr. Uubito oracularly closed that subject. 

"Hunting is a very good sport fur liim as knows his country and 
knows his nsj;; but for a middling ririer and n middling nag, why, / 
say there isn't much in it. And that's the truth." 

Then came aiaia talk of the ruro»1iadowed war. Mr. Dobito was 
entirely with Motbb on that subject. War would rimply ruin Iho 
rarniers ho declared ; they only W'antcd that on the top of the abomin- 
able strikes and holidays, and tho extra burdens. Admiral Nevile- 
Ueauehanip was against war on a diffcrtut ground, conccriLing which 
also Horse agreed with him. We wore not prc[iarod, the Kallan t 
Admiral held. "Our ahipe won't tloat, sir; our guns would burald^| 
tbs short-serrice baa played the devil with tlio redr-jeckcls." |^H 

EusLice fined his eye-g1ft.<s, nnd was languidly for battle. " S^i4^| 
all that sort of thing before, yoti know ; always hearing it. ^^f^| 
nilors and soldiers are always grambling; bad as tlie fanners. OivQ 
Ecgtislimen a chnnce of lighling, And they'll show you they can lick 
tfao foreigners yet— against any odda, by Joro I " 'llien lie dropped 
^Ufv^e-glosB, luiTing settled tho question. Ho drop;wd his eye-glass. 



l64 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." H 

AS the owner of a caatla might drop the portcullis in the brar^ &ajs ^^ 
old to signify that be could bold no further parley. 

" Fightiiig tliB foreigner ineana starving the farmer," said Mr. Pohilo, 
"Th<'y don't all believe that. I baira a farmer say that wbnt we 
wanlea was ft good old war like tli« Crimenn war, when wheat went 
over n hundred shillings a quarter. Biit you know, «ir" — Mr. Dobito'i 
voice became deep and emphatic — "there 'a bound to be what my 
lesmed frieod 'ud cbU a reaction ; a.nd I micd when wheat went down 
— after that very war — down as low as my bo^^ts." 

"Tbe burdens on the fftrmer are iucrenaing, I Huppoae, Mr. robito?" 
Lord Arden struck In. 

This gitve Ur. Dobito his chaoce. His time had come, and he knew 
It. Now he wne going to talk. He stretclied out his long )eg»i, took 
another glass of port, iben put his hands into bia pockelsaod Eurreyed 
th« compiiny with the wise man's tmi.quil and superior Emile. Then 
he began — 

"Burdens on the farmer incr(nsit:g, my Lord? Yes, I should think 
they were. I am glad you put that question while Mr. Morse is here. 
To-morrow or next day be msy be — well, the master of the hounds let 
ua say ; the WcstuiinBter Parliament pack." And Mr. Dobito Bmilcl 
at bis own humour, " Now I am going to give you ft liltle ditty in 
prose, Tm going to tell you all about the burdens which we poo; 
farmers have to carry on our imcks now, and which we hadn't to bear 
when I began lo ewst, nor fur many years after. A gentleman like 
my learned friend Mr. Morse here " — Mr. Dobito considered it only 
becoming to speak thus respectfully of a possible Prime Minister — 
'■ like my learned frieud Mr. Morse liere, wants to get to the right side 
of affairs, let us suppose " 

" The head of aiTairs ? " Mr. Erie murmured, with a bland tentatire 
suggestion of n juke. On ns rit pus, as the French parlismentaiy 
reports were occasionally in the xiabit of saying when an orator'a 
attempted pleasantry in tbe Obnniber missed fire. Mr. Dobito frawned ; 
not at the jest, but at the interruption. 

"At the right side of oflairs," Mr. Dobito went on with a cerlain 
stemneas of manner, cslculated to discourage further interriiplion, 
" Well, what do I do? 1 stick him up at my gate, and put somebody 
by hii side who knows aU the people hereabouts and the ways of the 
place. At nine o'clock, not before, Ihey begin to pass along. First 

{oil see a Tery decent-looking man, with a clerical sort of a|ii>earance ; 
e wears a long black coat, a waistcoat a littlo npra, showing n neat. 
well-Elarched sTilrt." Mr. Dubitu's long upper lip lengibened, and ho 
expanded bis chest and stroked the long loose ends of his cTiropod 
neckcloth. " And he has a pair of very respectable gloves. • Wlio is 
this? ' says my learned fritnii," 

Mr. Dobito paused, and waved bis hand as if it held k pipe and were 
pointing with the stem lo the imaginary passer-by. 
No one of course prcEumed to auiicipate tho aoswei. Mr. Dnbit* 



' Mk^Domro a'smonishes nations. 

"Haya my interpreter, 'This ia the village Bcboolfimster,' 
pnjfi tiini? ' Bsks my leftrned frieDiL? ' Tlie farmer | ays Lim.' 
ftKiA. Now there comes aluog a very respeciable bdy, looking a 
she had w^% better days, tiiie is dreesed fairly up to the b«hia4 
limtpitig out very ln.rga behind rrom the %Faist." Mr. Dobito push! 
AM&y hia chair, and gave a pantoioimic repreMotatiua of the swayn 
noUan produGi'd by adrass-improver. "She baa apairgf specIaclosM 
and she goes by with a very niinoiog and formal step. ' Who b ihian 
Bays yoo. ' Why, that ia the village school mis trass." * And who \wf 
her?' "Why, tbe farmer, of course,' Then after her come t* 
strApjiHng biases, oas with very hi^h heels to her boots ; perhaps 
otiier with low sboeeand buckles. 'Who be these?' oeks my loi 
frieiid. ' Tiiese be the sasiBtant-school mis tresses.' ' And who 
ibeiu?' 'Oh, oh I the farmer pays them. Who but be?'" 

Mr. Dobito aentod himself again, looked rouod tbe company, ani. 
took breath. He wanted the elTect of his descHptioDH to sink deep. 
Then he resumed his prose ditty. 

" Koiv. see this hurly-burly looking fellow with a big iiarce beard. 
Yoa see bim taking notes wiib a pencil. ' Who is thiaV says you — 
Bays my learned friend, Mr. Morse. 'This is the school-atteudaoce 
oflicer, looking for little lads whose fathers are bo poor to let them 
spoid their lime in school.' ' Who pays bira?' ' Why, tlie farraer.' 
Thea ft chap comes tramping stately down the rond, with buttons 
BhininzlikesilTsr.aiid his nose ia the air. 'Who Uthisgrent person?' 
Ton ask. 'This — oh, thiais the village policeman.' 'And who pays 
Lim?' 'Why, ihe farmer.' Look at thia [xirtly man, thirleon or 
fourteen stone in weight he must be, surely ; be seenia as if he hod 
pr«tlf well enough to eat at all times, now, don't lie ? This is tbe 
relleviDg oflicer. ' And who pays him ? ' ' The farnier.' Just stand 
out of the way of this one who comes sitting on the wrong sido of the 
drive of a cart, and his wife with him on the other; they are n pretty 
heavy pair, and I tell you the weight of them makes the springs bump 
down. Du you know who that man is? That's the inspector of 
nuisanceB. 'Who imya him?' Tba farmer, of course.'" 

Hr, Dobilo was dramatic as well as methodioal in hla way of 
deeeription. Ho assumed that each annouucument aa ta the paymAstor. 
would be a frush revelation to the nLidionCB, and he made the announce^ 
meat vrith a bursL 

" Now, look nt this gentleman driven sitting down in averysug^i 
■um.«ut; he wears n pair of blua i^pGciaclcs to keep the dust oul 
'Who is he?' 'Well, be is the surveyor of roads.' 'And who pays 
bim?' 'The farmer pays him,' Seowho comes after him— Ihia man 
with the tail shiny chimncy'|>ot hn.t and a hne broadcloth ciat. See, 
haknocks at every door na he goes along. 'Who is he?" 'Well, 
that's the Tale-collGctor, calling to get the last penny every tne has 
left.' * And who pays him ? ' ' Why, the fcnner.' Good, But just 
lurn your eyoa this way now for a bit. Do you sre this poor old 
dtessed not so fnshiiiuably by long odds, with a {air of uhl coed 



stor.^ 



eoS^ 



i66 "TI/E RIGHT HONOURABLE^' 

breeches, old leather leiii;ings,« coRt that has mbq sotr . .. .__ .., 
lost iU colour in it, and n iiHrticularly shabby old whits hut V He hi 
an afih stick in hta hnnd, this poor old chap, and he is jc^ging horan to 
get flomB coinfort, if he can, out oC n glitsa or beer. ' What old blote 
isthatJ'sajB my learned friend. 'Ah, but that ib old Steve Dobit". 
the (arrocr, the mau who liven on the land and paji double the rates 
of any other man ia Uie parish.' " 

This was the climai. Where Corporal Trini wouU have drnpped 
Ilia hat, Mr. Dobito poured out auother glasK of port He looked 
round silent on the company. 

. Morse spoke first. " The fiirnier will have to carry some more bur- 
dens soon, I sappose, Mr. Dobito ? A (lead EnolLahntan and a dead 
foreigner on bis back. The statesmen got them killed — our o*n\ |ioor 
fellows and the others ; and the farmers pay for the work," 

"Ton coine in, Mr. Morse, and don't give us any war," 
said. " Wo look to you," 



CHAPTER XXI. 



1 



The fame of Zen's ImproTements and decoratiuna had gone ftbrood 
among the neighbours ; and when Lady Clarence — Mr. Dobiio's friend 
and the lady irho admired fox terriers — enpreased a wish to see Mrs. 
Eustace Eenway's " diggings," there was an adjoturamvoC to Zen's 
boudoir while the men were in the dining-room. 

The uphulaterers had only juat left it, and it had the appoAranoe of 
a newly finished glove-bos, Tlie wails were of pale blue brocade, and 
the ceiling was satin, quilted and puckered, with a wonderful lamp 
hanging from its centre by gilt chains, up which green porcelain frogs 
were crawling. The draperiea were uU c)f pale blue plush ; the chain 
and sofas were covered with pluab, and were of fantastic shapes, after 
the order of the toadstool in tbe ball. All sorts of funny modem 
knick-knacks adorned the room. Dresden mirrors, gilt baskets, gro- 
tesque china monstrositiea, odd little coloured glass lamps. Tnere 
were no books, or pieces of work, or any of the artistic fripperies which 
women like to collect Zen seated herself squarely upon ber plusti 
sofa and surveyed the whole with naive complacency. 

_" I muat say I like it," she saiU. " I told you that I know how to 
make my little self comfortabla. Didn't I now? It's the only thing 
worth doing. What else is thera ? It's so jolly satisfactory to make 
one's self comforlabie." 

" But when it's done," said Lixdy Clarence, who was a sportswomkn 
of Spartan habits, and liked nothing better tban ronghing it. 

"Oh, then, there's the satLafaction," returned Zen, and she sighed, 
"/don't Cad much in life, except that kind of thing — sating aui. ' 
^rrhtJng and being umnsei. Some people are cut o "' 



"MAY THIS WORLD GO IVELL IV/TJ/ YOU^ 



entiment, don't you know? Uhe rou, Koor&li. But you luii) 
uiy Clnrcnce, aren't that sort Are we now? 
Lady ClarcDce did Dot Eecm quite to faucy btfag vA io it cnUigioi, 

lib Sien. She only put up bcr ey»-gLt3S and inepectt-d the frogi oA 
B lamp-chftins, suppoc'uig rnguely tbat tbty must fee) a little out of 

" This is my daylight rootn," continued Zen. " Now, I'm going ti) 

^w you ray night one. I hud the Batin and pluaii dyed to null my 

lompleitioD. Do you like it ? " she a«ked with conscious triumph, u 
" baving passwl through a glove-box wardrobe room, she pusiied 
tbe doors into ber bcdnram and dressing-room. Ihese wen 4 
ikinty nests indued, Uocd wiib rose-coloured salin and ilraped in lace,! 
«il]l tbe rnost wonderful inlaid toilette tahio and long three-sided 
aiirfor, framed in silver, and with s special altar coDsecrnted to ulvar- 
tttckftl bruabes of all shapes and aizie* — there were twenty of them, 
Zen announced with delight, and it was matter fur speoulation how 
many of them could by any poseihiUty be rniploycd upon tbe little 
[JoB^cro^ped bead — and to powder puffs, silver- handled curliug-iroua, 
ind frizzing apjiaratus. ■ 

Lady Clarence laughed good-liumourtdly. " Tliin \i the oldest pnrt'l 
if the bouse, inn't itV" she naked. 

" Huodfcda and hundruda of years old," s.iid Zen. " You might go 
hrouffb the kloor fur twiipence-hatrpoony. It don't look old now 
.bmi^ docs it — or dirty? It was just as grimy I And all bmig 
irith tapestry, and done up with qiieiT carving, 1 bad that clcarwl 
iway pretty BinarL" 

"I think I'd have kept the tapestry," said Lady Clarence, with 
p llttl« laugb. 

They proceeded on their tour of inspection ; but EooriiU lingered. 

[t« had thrown bauk (he Venetians, and was looking out uf tbe open 
window upon the scene below- There wa^ the wide terrace, with its 
bit of black lawn and the grey balustrades and solemn yew hrdges oo 
etther side ; aud then, far below, the silvery line of river, and the low 
dark bank and ghowtly trees shrouded in haia rising on the opposite 
nde, Beyond (hat lay tbe flat niendows covitkI with thick wliiF' 
mist that looked its if it were the seii, and with just tho dim outlln< 
Ufa village aliove it, like distant land. 

When the rest bad pone, KoorMi sank upon tbo floor and kneelt 
with h<jr arms agninst the ledge and her chin u[X)n tliom. She w^-f \ 
a strange excited state, her heart was quivering and she felt sick wil 
tbe terror of something impending. All this seemed part of a dicai 
fibs wondored whnt Morse would say to her buNbnnd. She wonder 
bcw Crlchton would regard tho situation — if he would nRree to Iv* 
England. To leave England] Tbe thought seemed lo clutch hor 
heart, and die uttered a stifled cry at the pain it gave her, Tbe oor- 
viclion swept over her with full fores that she hai never known till 
late months the exquisite joy and the exquisite pain which life can 
bold and love can bring. I''ur the miacry, tO'-, wa^ "" ^'" ■'—•"' 



i 



life can "^ 
0— tliuK^HJ 



1 



168 '■'THE Riam HONOURABLE." 

was uo doadnesB, do blankness ia it. But to go away — to be 
always with her hushand , . ,1 

She ahuddcred all ovtv. 'Jhe phase of esallnlion and glory in a We 
which Beamed lo her the outcome of her nmure, the fruit if her reiy 
Boul, had ganp, as pbnGes of the kind vnulbh, and she had nuw a scuEe 
aB of g^lt aod Ghame. 8ho seemed to see her tittle clildren'a facea. 
It VBE horrihle, it ivns UDcatural. Tiie sutTocatiog aohs ahook her, but 
ahe wouldn't let tliem have vent. "Oh I why can't I fight — and 
fight — and get the better of it?" ahe whispered fiercely to hciselt 
" It's wrong — ii'a wicked 1 It's because I'm a bad woman — that 1 
hate — AtifsLim ao. And he's my huaVandl OhI Qod is cruel to us 
wives! Why dcea Ho let us hind ourselves when we don't know — 
when we can'f know? Why does lie let the feeling grow, and cheat 
us inio the fanty that it's the nuhleet and the roost beautiful — tUl ii'a 
like death to pluck it out ? Oh ! I'd lal her die— I can't— I can't ! " 

She did not know how long she ptaytd at the window. It was only 
s few luinulea perhaps, Slie got calm again, and the trembling ceased. 
&be did not want lo fob now and ci; out. She was still kneeUng, 
when Zen's bendx and hansjes cliiihed in the room, and Zen stole up 
to the window, standing lebind her, and Io< king out on to the miat 
and ihe silvery hird of water and the black outlines of ihe yews. 
The mist was a little leES dense, or the lamps in the villa^ie across the 
water bad be<in lighted, for one or two shone below like biacou lights 
en iLe shore. 

Z<n did net Rprak for smorarDt, Presently she BBid,"! think it's 
queer, that. It strikes me, don't you know? We on this side, and 
ihey on tbat rne. The poor rough creatures in those cotlnges, and we 
frivoIuiiB modern peoplaj and this room — and everylhin}!. There's 
only the river between — but such a gulfl They can't picture our 
lives, and we don't know theirs." 

liuor^li did not answer. 

Zen went on, in her abrupt ytt reflective way. "There's that old 
liidgc, it's Snxon. And the Knights Templars used to look out on 
that Tery river und the meadows. It's h-beastiy queer." 

She slipped doun on the csrpet beside her sister-in-law. Then >he 
looked out at the night, and 1 ack into the rose-lioed room, with '*" 
siWer mirrors and ihe tuhle with all the hrushes, and shook her '' ~ 
" It isn't worth much, after all," she said, with an odd, paaai 
quaver in her voice. "I'd give it all — all — if loould be loved fot. 
very own self. You're better off than I am, KoorSii." 

KoorSli turned with a quick gesture of sympathy, and clasped Zen'i 
hand. It was the first time she bnd ever felt so closely drawn towonli 
Zen ; and now tho pity and compassion which went from her wen 
a relief to licr snrcharged heart. Zeu's pathetic declaration of IoddIi- 
nees and disappointment found il« echo in her own soul. The tear: 
gushed from her eyes. Presently Sen put her other hand on KoocUi'i 
oheek and turn<d her face round. Tho light from a lump in the row 
feUufoa it aud showed Zau a greii.1 test on her cjelaslies. _ 



-JlfAV THIS IVORLD CO WELL WITH yoCI." i6g 

" You're crying," exclaimed Zen, " 1 knew quile well that you hnd 
iie tRBte of ashes bcl.ween your teetli thi» evuniuc;, though you tried 
k> Jiilly well to ninke ererybody believe it wna all applea and tobei. 
Has Crichton been biillyiDg you?" 

" Ho," auawereri Koorili faintly. 

" Is it money ?" pursued Zen. "Ignesaod that Crichton must be 
pretty licml up. His tailor wouldn't pve him tick. A mnn must be 
hard up when his tailor won't give bim tick. Never mind how I 
kli'iw— 1 do. Look here, Koorili. If it's monoy, just you let int 
lend you a helping hand. I needn't tell Eustace, you know." 

" "So, no," said KoorMi hastily, " I couldn't. You are very kind, 
but, indeed, I couldn't let you help me in that way. And, 
lieiides, it's not money, It'i nothing — nothing that t can talk nbout^ 
doar. I'm just ft iitlia melancholy this evening, and — I didn't mean 
you to see it Never mind me ; tetl me about yourseir. I'm so sorry 
that things are wrooR with vou; but, perhaps, it is all a mistake. 
Asd you are very fond of Eustace, dear. Nutbiug matters much if 
one only loves one's husband." 

"But I dou'l," Baid Zen dowiy, her round rosy face paling and 
becoming hard and old-looking as she gazed straight before her out 
beyond the river. "I did love him. 1 was idiotically fond of him, 
tbough 1 knew he was a mass of selfiahnL'SB ; hut I coidd not help it. 
You see, that's tiie worst of never caring for any one all one's life. 
. When one does, it's a bad job." 

KooriLli pressed Zen's hand closer, and there was a little silence. 

•■ 1 did love him," repeale<i Zen, " Ijut that was all over before many 
months. It was over wlien I found out that he had only married me 
for my money, Therp, I'd cut out my tongue before I'd tell that to 
the Family I" 

"Oh, Ziin, perhaps you are mistafeen," said Koorili. 

"No, I'm Dot. 1 found it out. I found out that he had tieea in 
]o»a with a woman in Florence who was married, ft friend of mine " — 
the 8Corn in Zen's voice was Ir^ic — " who wanted to do him a good 
turn and get my fortune for him. I suppoBs she thought it wouldn't 
make any difference; but it did," crie.i Zen, with a flash of triumph, 
** Eustace may be wjlfish, and ho doesn't core for me ; hut he is A 
gentlemBD. Ue quarretlcd with her and took me away. Then, after- 
wwtlB, I began to see how bor<x) ho was, and I partly guossod, and my 
Etep-mother told me the reet. AiLd when two and two are added 
tOgBthar they generally make four," remarked Zon. " I didn't want 
mncli telling. They think I'm a lump of pap, and no one ever su»- 
peets me of being able to see through a brick wall. But that's my 
«'>7. I'm deceptive. I'm noticing all the time that I'm rattling on 
, by the yard, and I've noticed Eustace. I can read bis thoughts, 

'It wna wicked of your step-mother; it was horrible I " cried Eoo- 
i4li indignantly. 

** Yos, I must say I think it was low," returned Zen. " But, then, 
' ] told you she was pretty hnd form; even I can we that. Site Cuuked. ' 
;:• I 



I 



heiai* 



170 '^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

nfterwarda, and beggeil me not to let Euatnce know. She Bt>id efae \a 
done it for m; good. She need not linve been prraid. / wasn't Ukolj 
to tell Eustnce \ 1 <icas too proud Tor that. But I feU bad enough, I 
can tell ;au ; anil 1 (lew out at Liin — nbout nothing in particular, i 
stormed and mvcii; and then, whea I rouldu't hold myseU in — 
longer, I rushed anaj up into the hilla. Oh, jou needn't have mi: 
uiy Hpeing yon cry. Cry 1 Why, Tm crini caiaracts," 

" Ob, poor Zen ! " murmured KoorMi, 

"^evermindl I've got a happy faculty for throwing thingit; 
It's all right as long aa 1 keep going on Uko a stcaru engine. It t 
up in the hills, above Glion," she went on in her liard bitter way. 
" I lay on the ground and cried and tihrieked. 1 dare aay the people 
In the vincynid thought 1 was mad. So I was, for & bit. Then I 
jiiokeil mygeir up. When I got liack, EuGtoce was smoking ciiiaretteH 
and reading ' Autour du Maringe.' He asked mei with the politeDega 
of a Spanish Don, if I would mind, when I was t|iiite calm, stating 
my wiahea cli arly, Bo that he might comply with them. I could have 
stabbed him ; I was wild with t3.?,i. tty blood boiled so that it aenl 
me inio a fevw. I went to bed for a week; my face swelled, 1 
wouldn't apeak to Eustace. After a week I got up. There was a 
dance in the hotel that night. It was the £rst time I bad met Lord 

Arden since my marriage " Zen stopped abruptly, '"Well, that 

was the end of it all,"' she added, " and I don't mean to cave in. And 
you mustti't cither, Koor?ili, I should think Lady Clarence had seen 
the house by this time." 

She got up, and Kooriili rose too. Zen's httle hurst of conSdence 
had done KuorMi good. It had brought her bark to ^3lity, and yet 
the reality, when she thought of her fate trembling in the tmlance ol 
Crichton's self-interested wishes, seemed a t;hastly drt'nm. 

The gentlemen came in very soon after Koorilli and Ina had returned 
to the drawing-room. Crichton and Morse were ti^i ther, and Lord 
Arden and Mr. Dobiio brought up IhiTL-ar. Mr, Dohito, a little elated 
by Eustace's pott and the wrongn of the latopayers.was taken ia hand 
by Lady Clarence, and prcFently Lord Arden spied Zen's banjo in a 
corner, and brought Jt to htr. 

It was a very ma;;nificent linn Jo, like everything of Zen's. It waa 
got op in richly chased silver, and it looked very new and shiny, and 
malolicd Zen's embroidery as, seated in a plush chair, with her feel on 
a t!ilt fcotstool, she held it ou her tap. 

" 1 can only sin°; one song," she said, "and I can't play anything 
but two breakdowos, I mix them up together because I think they 
sound more imposing, don't you know? And I'm only goitis to piny 
because it isn't good manners to refuse when you're asked, dou't you 

Zen played her breakdonna, and then the song was insisted tipui, 
■nd she sang It with an odd look at Eustace as xhe thrummed the 
Hccompnoiraent, BustnGa waa watching her ; and, indeed, there waa 
lOtoethiag comic and pathetic abovit Zen aa »he sat in all het ' 



fiMfj 



"Mj-y 



''l^f^i^-aJ 



cdy^srx fpftfr Yoi;.^ \v~ 



Snjerto" bcT banjo, vith hor elbowa squared nnd tEe hard look of 
teulion kept untlec Etill on ber /ace. 

It wu It wild lUtlo American n^ro loiig. Her vuice wna itroet 
luda melancholy note in it, and lEero was somctliinj; very qubiot 
trader about the song. It had a reCcaia, wLtch tou thui ; — 



Andaute. 



^ 




taaj thie natld 



NotHhtg could In more sweet, simple, and pathetic than the I 
Tlielait wold "yuii" was repeated wiih n sinking eadiioiuid "yoii-« 
yoti — yoni"— « iilainliveness like that of an eTcning breeze. 'i'halL 
was wmcthing iiieoiprMaibly toucliini; in this tender, fond litlle pnrtinf 
irrayer, 80 KouriLli ihought nt luni't. She fauod the tenM comiu): 
into ler eyes; sbeiiiil not well know wliy. She found liorself repeat- 
ing, in lowest lone, the words "and may thin world go well with you 
— yon — you !" As »he listened she saw that Monw was lialenin;? ti 
ai d wns apparently nbsorbed in the sung. When it was done ho 
lu Zenobia. 

" Now, where did you get that song ? " he nsked. " Do you knflj^ 

tnat it is s genuine pkntntion song — a real nigger melody ; i>ol f^ 

tliln«: got up for a London, or even a New York music ball 'i I have 
not li^rd it for years and years. We need to hear it down soulh 
during the American war. The fugitive daves used to come into our 
campd and take refuge there, and they used to get round a lire and 
sill)! t*"'t song. 'Railoo' is the plantation attempt at 'adieu.* 1 do 
wish you would sing it again." 

Znobia positively blushed with delight and pride at the sue^eas of 



4 

iat- 

1 



I70 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE^ ■ 

BfterRftrds, and begged me not to let Eustnce knon. She El>id ebe ImA 
done it ft>r my good. She need aot Imve been arraid. 1 wasn't likeljr 
to t«U Eustnce ; 1 was too proud for that. But I felt bad enough, 1 
can tell you ; and I lleiv out at him — aboot nothing in particular. 1 
stormed and raved ; acid then, when 1 couldu't hold luyself in any 
longer, I rushed away up into tba hills. Oh, you needn't have luindMl 
my seeing you cry. Cry 1 Why, J'w cried caLaracle." 

" Oh, poor Zen I " murmured KoorMi, 

"Nevermind! I've got a happy faculty for throwing things clI. 
It's all right SB long as I keep going on lihe a steam engine. Jt nw 
up in the bills, above Glion," she went on in her liard bitter way. 
" 1 lay on the ground nnd cried and shrieked. 1 dare say the people 
In the vineyard thought I was mad. So I was, for a bit Then I 
pickeil myself up. When I got back, Eustace was smoking ci^arettea 
and readinj! ■ Autour du Maringe.* He asked me, with the pulitenesa 
of a Spanish Don, if 1 would mind, wlicu I was quite calm, stating 
niy wishes cli nrly, so that he might comply with them. 1 could have 
stabbed hiui \ I was wild with rai;e. My blood boiled so that it sent 
me into a fever. I went to bed for a week ; uiy face swelled. I 
wouldn't speak to Euatnco. After a week I got up. There was a 
dance in the hotel that night. It was the first time I had met Lord 

Arden since my marriage " Zeu stopped abruptly. " Well, that 

was the end of it all,'' aba added, "and I don't mean to cave in. And 
you mustn't (ither, Koorftll. 1 should think Lndy Chirence hod seen 
tbc bouse by this time." 

She got up, and KooiSlli rose too, Zen's little hurst of confidence 
had done KuoiMi good, ll had brought ber bark to riality, and yet 
the reality, when she thought of her fate trembling in the balance of 
Crichton's self-interested wliihes, Ecoined a ghastly dream. 

The pentleraen came in very soon after EoorUi and Zen bad returned 
to the drawing-room. Crichton »iid Morse were together, nnd Lord 
Arden and Mr. Dohito brought up the rear. Mr- Dobito, a little elated 
l>y Euslacc's port and the wrongs of ibo latoimyers, was taken in hftod 
by Lady Chirence, and pretently Lord Ai'den spied Zcu'b banjo ia a 
corner, and brought it to her. 

It ivas a very nia^iriilicFnt lianjo, like everything of Zen's. Tt Wfts 
got up in richly chased silver, and It looked very new nnd shiny, and 
mulched Zen's embroidery t», seated iu a plush choir, with her leet on 
a [iilt fuQlBtool, she held it on her lap. 

"lean only sing one song," sbe said, "and I can't play anything 
but two breakdowns. I mix them up together hecausc I tbtnk they 
sound more imposing, don't you know ? And I'm only going to piny 
because it isn't good manners to refuse when you're asked, don't you 
sea?" 

Zen played her breakdowns, rmd then the song wna inaialed upon, 
knd sbu sang it wltb nn odd look nt Eustace ns she ihruicnKd tha 
noeom pant men t. Eustace was wntdiing her; and, ludeeJ, Uiere wm 
tometliing comic and pathetic about Zen as abe sat in all her flaoy^ 



wm;^- 



Wisn^'cd i^t ivifti vo'v? 



Biirpisi 




,r ., nobody liVos it, tut we all have to pot up with i 

''^i«d ArilpD, unoerUin how lu take her, and still Ihinkiag uf KoD'Aro 
"Oh, hul U'a diffennl wUb me. All my life I linio twcn nllowsi 
'"my And do what I plenEcil, find nobody lound t'nult, "T, if ihcy dld,^ 
J^Ed Zen wtltssly, " i didn't cure. I don't lopnii Hint I'vo hod " 
'■Jipy lifa, for I hsTen't, Nobody over cnrod fur mc i but I ve olirajl 
lens and said what I liked." 

Lord Arden ffss lunched. " Uy dear Mrs, Euslnco " ho begaa) 

And then lie snw that Zen'a lips were quivering, * 

Bba palled horeelf up with a sort t^t jerk mid im micertam laugh. _ 

"I'm (alkin^ to you ja-^t as I Wgan [o tntk to EoorMi a liitio while 

50, and it isn't my way. I don't really mean it. NcTor mini! I Wo 

e nil in the dumps, this evenins, aren't we naw ? There's wimo* 

thing in the air, Lonk at Mr. Mores — he hasn't bscn Uko hiroeojf 

dtber. Yon wuuldn't think, judging from his face, Ihat he was kjj 

sacceKful man and had made a bap[^ mnrriago. If ever there oughM 

to be a happy mairiage, I suppose that's it, for Lady Belty if - — ^ 

peiieot. yet I can't get over the fancy. Lord Anien, that a w 

wbo didn't belong quits altogether to the great world would han 

mited him better.doa't jouknow — some one a1t<^etberm 

-mtve like — yex, more Uke Kooiili." 

Arden and Zen both glanced inToluntarily Inwards Kno 

andtheni at M'lrse. They saw that Crichlon had mo'ed n 

that Horse's eyes were on Konr^Ii. They «aw that she turned her 

bead as if draivn by a magnetic current, and that a look was inler- 

cfaanged between the two. It was unconsclons; it was very brief; 

both pairs of eyes were iustantly averted, hut much was revenled. 

The aame tlionght fiorhed across th« minds of Zen and Arden. She 

«bol towards him a glance of territ:ed understanding. His eyes, 

her.*, bad something of the same expression. Just then 

iounj^ed up, and said in his well-bred drawl, "My dear 

Zenobia, four negro melodies are very original, and charming, do 

doiibt ; but Lady Clartnce is an excrlleut muaieian, in a different 

Style— -don't you thing you might aek her to plajV" 

Zenobia fluHheJ up, and with an abrupt gceiure wont <o do her duty 
AS hostess. 

The evening wore away— to Koorlli it had seemed interminable. 
At last she was nlone in her room. Just as they were going uietalrs, 
she heard Morse propose a fllgnrelte on the terrace to her husband. 
The sound of theic vuices and steps reached htr now through the oiwu 
window. 

She had taken off her dn'ss, and was wrapped ii 
\aen robe. Her hair was unbound and plaited for the n 
cliild'isiD two longplaits that fell on her shoulders. She had occupief 
herself wilb. it during some time. She paced the room restlessly for w. 
little while, then aat down very quiet and pale In an nrm-chnir by thl| 
fireplace. 6bs could not go to bed. She felt that she miiet w 
and hear Crichtoo's decision. 



a loose while casl^ 




"■THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 



CHAPTEH XXII. 

THB LAST APl'EAL. 



MI»* 



As hour or more piiBsed slowly. .Thu stops had died away, nnd KooiW 
supposed tbal her huBband and Murae had gone within, pirhajis to 
carry on Iheir cunverBalion in more serious strain. At last iherswaa 
the sound of optniog and closing doors, nod of " Ooud nights " ioler- 
changed, and theu EooriUi heaxd tlie liunille of her own door turneil, 
nod Crichion entered. 

He hod A look of suppressed exdtement. He held his head erect, 
and hk long, lean neck soenad longer luid leaner, more than ever lihn 
ibat of one of Ihoso hungry hawks which Koortkli remembered hangtn; 
round tho stock-yard fence in Australia. He shut tho door bebiml 
him and waited, as if for ber lo lipeak. But tboi^h she was cold witli 
iierTnus expectation, it would have buen imposMble for her at ituil 
moment to frame n direct quesiion. 

" You are late," she said in a mechanical way. 

" I didn't eipcot to find you waUiog up for me," he returned in thai 
BuicBstic tone which always chilled Kuoiili'a utterances. " Why v 
this ? You don't often favour ma with an opportunity for a conjugal 
lete-dftete. You are generally tired, or you have a h^dache, when I 
want to talk over things with you." 

There was a Utile pause. 

" Have you not something you want to talk over with me lo-night?" 
fhe asked. 

"No," he answered, coming opposite In her, and eyeing her with a 
curious eapression on bis lacei "I've said all that wai neceBsory 
already — to Morse." 

There waa another silence. Kooiili got up from her oliair, and 
moTed towards hlin a step or two. Then she stopped short, and looked 
at him wilb anxious eyes. 

" Crichton," she said. 

"Well?" 

"Yon know what I want io epenk about?" 

" Fcrbapa I do, perhaps I don't,*^ be said, giving a harsh Utile iaugb. 
"You remi^mi^er the man in Moll^re, Koorali? 'Ibe doctor asks him 
if he knows Luim. and ho answers ' Uf cuuriie I do, but speak to me as 
if I didn't.' " 

Us crossed to the Rrepkce.and stood with his iack agunst tlio high 
mantel-piece and bis eyea on the ground. 

" About Mr. Moiee,'' EoorJlli went on in a firm roice as cold as hi* 
own. " iJe bax spoken to me. He wi 
appointment — lie can get it for you, i 
colonies." 
' Kenmy looiced up and stared Sercety at her for a moment or tirO' ■ 
" ' ' * "' f "Does ho lake ma for a fool?' 



t or tirO' II 



■ ' 't^-X^Sr APPEAL. 



Iwt. "Do jou (jike ma for a fool, KooiMi? Do you (iilnli I briTMi' 
had tnougb of the colimies in my i iitie 1 Du you think I'm going ' 
buiy mjself in some ti-umpery colonial place, aivaj from London 
toni everytbiiig tbat makes life worth living to a man of 
UuymyBelf out there— with you? Kot I, my dear. Ard 
your friend Morse to undt^nrtAnd. And to you may tell bim, too. 
prefer to take my cbsnce nltb the o^tber men who are waiting for biro 
to come into poner. Get bim to try amtin, Eoor&lL I dare nay you 
can pFevail upon bim to meod his hand." 

At another time Koorili would have reaented ihe intinunlioa wliidl 
lay only balf-liidden under bis tone and word:*. Now she look ttl 
patieotly. Did she not dewrvB it ? No thought of wrong hod ~^ 
come into her miod. No feeling uowortby of a womHQ hnd t'vc 
a moment made her beart souoil to a false note; nml yet the conacioi 
neu of a secret foibade her now to be angry al her husbaud'a tauntin)(' 
words. A woman less resolute than Kwjrlli (o do ri^ht would not, 
perhaps, have been so keenly sensitive. 

She moved a little and rested b<T band on Jbe bnck of a couch near 
which she stood. "Crichton," she said, very gently and aoutlji ugly, 
"yon will let me adviae )Oii about this befure you make up your 
mind, won't you? Don't let u« speak bitterly to one nnotlier. I 
will try to please you atl 1 can. We will be good friends. Our 
interests are the same, and we have eur children — thoy ousht to make 
ua trader tn each other. Tou will try to lovo mp, and I will try to 
lc»e you. I will, indoe.1 ; we are bound together ia life or denth, wo 

Crichton interruptcil her with ati impaii'-nt gesture. "That's all 
lery true, and very nice, and very pretty, Kaorali j hut I don't quito 
tm wbot il hoH to do with the question of a colonial appointment. 
Cumc lo the i)oint, my dear, and don't bo too sentimental, please." 
'■ I would rather you took Mr, Morse's offer, Crichton." 
"Truly, but I would rather nut, dear; and that makes all tlie 
diOerence, don't you see ! " 

" But if I were to nsk you, Crichton ? If I were to say that I felt 
sure it would bo better for you and better for meV Koorili stooped 
forward and bent her picailing face towards him, but bo kept hi* 
tamed from her. " We nre not fit for this fort of liondon life — I a 
not, at least ; and — oh, Crichton, it is right thut you should c 
-laalitUe." 

"Yon are always s>ving mo to understand th.it I conwiiler yon a 
veij little," be replied; and be amiled complacently d" "" 
humour. 

"Ob, I do want to leave this place," Koorlli exolaimcd pansionaleiy 

[ want to be out of il, away from it for ever. Crichton, do listen til 

el 1 want to begin a new life in some other plnce. I wunt to forgA 

our quarrels and want of sympathy, and to start afiesli. I <io iiidoe' 

I b«liB7e that you and I can yet bo tiappy together. At least, we «_ 

liy. Let n» try to be a good and loTing huaband and wife, and Ut| 



ich 

ino*^^ 



■^^ 



"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE* 

— h other ftoil for our childreo. Mil Ioto them aod Ioto eich ntblr 

In lliom. Tbnt is all m; unbition nonr — all, nil m^ ftmbiiiun. AuJ 
I will do alt I cnn; 1 will bo a good, truo wife to you, and wb will 
b^io this DdW lifp, sball we not, togetlicr?" 

Sha Hpoke in little brckeo sentences, nerroosiy pressing her hatidt 
upon each olber. Oricbton looked tit lier now with sonictliing oil 
more BerioiiB iiiqiiiry ia his eyes, which ho agiiu averted." 

'' I don't undeistond hU thia, Konr&Ii. I don't complain of yiu. I 
don't Bee what you have to complain of. Many a woman would be 
glad eiiuu<ih to stand la your Bhoea. Aa Cor tbere being a 
nympatby between us, I suppose we agree inlooking after our iiiier«iii 
n-bat more do yuu want? In the name of cnmmon Bense, do you 
expect mo to pay you compliments and attention ns if I weren't 
huaband 1 Tbers are plenty of other men to do that for you. 
like to be leutiueatai, and to imagine that you are ncglectoil k 
unhappy," ' 

"In good truth, Crichton," she answered, with a plaintive smileJ 
am often very lonely and very unhappy, and I think that TOuJI 
must often feel we are not nil to each other that we might be. ' 

" I never said so," he replied, in a lesa rasping tone. " I ne _. 
that you didn't make a good wife to me. The fact i?, I suppose^ 

you are too good — in all that sort of way — for a man like ma. I -^ 

eay that 1 ghoulU have got on letter with a woman of coarser fibre. I* 
think I get annoyed Bumetimes by the thought that you are of too fine 
a fxA for me, and that yon. know it. And tben you exceedingly good 
little women have an irritating way of looking down on us poor sinful 
men of tbe world. Well, anyhow, I don't find fault with yon, Eoorikli, 
and i think we rub along quiie well enough, as married people ^, and 
*j there is no necessity to seek out some summer isle of Eden to begin 
a new existence in. Tliat isn't my form, dear; I prefer London Ufo. 
Here I am, and here I mean to slay." H 

" Have you no thought lor me ? " alio pleaded. " Have you nsMfl 
thought that it may not be good for me — this kind of life, tbe Iifel^| 
lead in London ? " j^ 

" What do you mean by ' not gwxl for you '? Late houra and thaiff 
My dear, you can stay at home if you like. Of coiirsii, it woulil please 
me better that you should go out and be seen everywhere, but nsver 
mind about that. Whether I am |>lea5ed or not, it is uf no particuisLr 
consequence, I suppose." 

"Cricbton, you wUl not understnnd itic. I must speak pl.tinly. I 
wouldn't if I could help it. Do y<]u think that a woman has no feel- 
ings nnd no weakness? You want mo to go into uociety, to make 
friends fiir you who will be useful. You want me to ho admired. 
Have yuu never thouj:ht tbat I might — that i might come ta " 
admiration too much?" 

"No," he answered coolly; '* and I don't sea what it would a 
if you <iid. I BupnoBo you could have enough if you Irlod for it." 

" Oh I " Bhe erica in Bometbing like a burat of dcsjair, " cno't 



make 

1 



^ — t^E zjyyr appeal. rfl 

(odcratanil that I might get to think too much of one man's adminilfl 

lion-flad of him?" ■ 

Stw looked at her hoshand etrnight, with an eager quosUoning guM, 

li if (ha longed, yet feared, to leaA bis loul. He did not at onea 
4iitwer, sn'l he seeiaed dutermined not to meet her eyeti. 

"Notitiog would come of that— I bnow," ha .^a'd at laat wiih ioy 
delihomtioii. 

"Ko, except euflerinj; to me ; nut) you don't eare about that — yon 
ifen'l care about ih^it, I Itnow. But 1 was not thinhinit «lx>ut myself 
miy, Cricblon," abe went on in n tone of forced quietncnK, " I wa* 
ihinltins about you. Tlii^ lifu docs not suit you. It neverciiuld. Vou 
would grow voree nnd worse in it. I mean that you could never be 
rich GUongh for the people yon care to live amon^" ; and you would trf 
flod strain to Iceep up with them and be lilse them, and it would he nil 
a miserable mmtoke, with ruin at the end. Sea how we bavo been-j 
to ruin here — in tliia short time. What appointment could vM^fl 

„ ^ England wliich would gi»o you half, or quarter, the money yoofl 

iranttospeud? Oh, 1 bare ibougbt it all out; and I could bear Ii))M 
own troubles, whatever they might In." Slie stilTened herself up wiUr ■ 
a baling of womanly pride. " And nothing, ai you say, would come 
of that. But I fee only ruin for you and disiraoe for our children iu~ 
tha life we arc sure to lead. I see us diirtiti^ farther and farther apart, 
till I tremble to think of what may come of it. I can answer for my- 
a«lf, but you cannot answer for youmolf, and you kpnw it. My 
huaband, forpjvo me, I want to liiko care of yon, and I want you, 
H«aTen knows, to take care of me." 

CricfatoQ mndu a few impatient stepti, and came bock to his former 

"Lock here, Koorili," he raid, " I think we have had alwut enoucli 
ofthia. You need not, trouble abont me, I would much rather be 
rained, as you call it, in Ix>DdoQ, than lend a stupid bumdnim 
cxiatence on a small salary as the governor of aome pitifuL hole ot 
a colony, 1 don't care about tine climate; I have had Gno climate 
enough already. Fall Ual! and Piccadilly are good enough fur me. I 
want to be at tbe centre of tbin|;B. 1 want to live in tbe world, and 
t mean to do it too ; au thnt'a aettlod. As for you — well, my mind ia 

'' at eoae about yait, 1 know the sort of woman you are. You're 
w«. aiiougb and proud enounh to be able to helpma witliout doing any 
liann to yourself. Come, f don't mean anything trajEic." For she 
bad etarled, and her eyes flRshcd on him, "Why will you always 
take things and me fmm the point of view of the virtuous heroine of 
tic Surrey Theatre? Ifa stupid. It's proviocinl. It isn't life — at 
any rale, it isn't my idea of hfe, and I think I'm a fair snmpla of the 
man of tbe world. Wo have got to live in the world, and to deal with 
worldly men and women ; not with a set of saints and prigs, or melo- 
dramatic demons either." 

" I want to understand you," she said very quietly. " Your way o( 
lookiog at things is not mj way, I nant to follow you if I can — 1 



iiioui in what jrou Hif nbout mir being nbia to help tou. 
wlist it ifl you wUh me to do. Tull mc in plain woria.*' 

" Sit down, thoQ," said Keniray. " You look so deuccdljr U 
IbitKbla and Buperior standing up there. It's yery »imple. 1 oiilr 
want you to make my iotcresti ;oura — am), ^y Jove, you carl 
eepBraloihetn — and to enjoy life." He threwhimseif latoan atm-clsii 
ns he ajMjke, and Koor&li, obeying him, Est dono upon the sufs bf 
«hich slio had been atanding. She wailed for him to spenk. 

" You are & very pretty woman," aaid Kenwny at last, "and a very 
clover one, ia yoor way ; a very good woman loo. I hare the fnlls-l 
trust in you. 1 have a higher opinion of yon than you seem to htn 
ofyourai'ir, Koorlli," 

Her lipB tightened a little ; she did not anaver. 

"The world is our oygter," continoed Kenwny, " am) we have got to 
open it — you and L It BhouW not be a baid Uisk. I flnttf-r mywif 
that I am sonielliiui; more Ihnn merely beauty's husband. Uorse hu 
obligingly told me tbia eveiiiu^ that I Lave cLiims and capnbititiua. A 
great dral dojiends on you. You aro quite right. We are buaband 
and wire — bound to each other — and we must stand or fall together. 
I only ask from you what any clever man haa a right to expect from a 
clever wife." 

Kenway waited again for a moment ; but EoorMi ivaa still silent. 

" You did not make the use whicli jou might have made of your 
opportunilies this season," bo said. "By an extraordinary piece oF 
luck we managed to get into the thick of the political set. With a 
little tact, and by driving the noil home at the ri^iht moment, you 
might have mads enormous interest in dilfereiit quarters. As it tv^ 
you forced me to ptit all my eggs into one basket." ^^H 

" I don't know what you menu," she said slowly. " How iii^^l 

" Come, hang it, Koorflli 1 You know that Morse's attentions to j^^H 
wcro pretty well talked over nt the clubs and in Ihe drawing-nw^H^^ 
Do you suppose that people didn^ remark how often he came to ee*^ 
you, how he singled you out at places, and the keen interest you took 
in hfa political Tiews ? I'm not hinting anything derogatory to you 
w him, or to myself, 1 fancy tliat I know how to take cara of my 
wife; but the other men who might hare pushed me forward dropped 
away. It was your fault." 

"Orichton," said Koorlli pnsKionatoly, "you know very well why 
that was, Olii 1 have tcnmed a great deal dnriug these months, I 
could nut en<iure seme of those tncn. I don't know how you could 
endure them," 

" You choked off Ooulmont, who will be a power if the war parly 
carries the day. Us is a man who never furgels or forgives being made 
to feel small, and you made him feel small. It was stupid, dear. As 
long as I didn't minii a little silly sentiment, you might safely hare 
amused yourself with it. Another woman would have managed lh» 
rilualion, and wonld have kept his friendship." 



■^ ^g diST APPEAL. 

liered Ih^l I \>bA kepi hia fiianriship — or, at least, his ri 
that's roll " Ef^d Kensaf with liis iDcirire drawl. "It 

J Willi a nifln liUe Coulroont. I can Bee through lit» 

ttliRppMntmcDt. Whnt I can't &ee tbrotigh m why Hotm wknta ■ 
bieccDt it — unless Ladj H'ttj ia at the IwtUim of ih« wbole tliingj 

Soouli's cliest heaved. Sho whs sulTerin'; u ou\j a pruud « 
an giiffcr. 

"No; I don't understnnil it," Kenwny went cm rcfieclivcly. 
mm dotBo't gpnerallydu his Iwst to gnit a wnrnnn whnge sodi^ty plea 
Urn out pf reach — not snch a man as Mnrac — Ooulmont i* i 
MMlhec BorL Of course jou did the rifchl tlilos: from Iha * 
monUtf' point of view, in turning the culd fliouidcr on him ; 

len of the world have ways or gliding over 'he qnicltaiindi withd 
. ._ of dignity. You managi'd Iwdly, denr. Yuu Bhoold try a " 
fimamr. It's an accompli»hiiient, tiowerer, not 1u be laaroud ia 
Sritain. Well, never mind, you loat Coulmont, nud you I»Bt In^ 
iind Barry ; and next sramn you will be a llttb out of data, and I. 
ends will be over. If Moree hasn't come in, my cbiiaae will b«j 
'■ I by." ■ 

. r, Morse may not come into power," said Koorili, still i. 
quiet, repressed way. " Ue has told me that it Is likely ha w 
take the chance even if it is offered him. Wouldn't it bo belts, 
CriclitoD, seeing that I hare, aa you say, mismanaged opportunities, & 
ire this one?" 

Morse will go in," aaid Crichton. "I don't believe in the con- 
sdentious acruple which holds a man back from being Prime Minister 
of Bogland. Hasn't he been working up to this for years? Hia party 

wouldn't tot him draw back. By 0-od, if he does " Kenway got 

up excitedly from his seat. He made a few hurried paces, then stopped 
at tin mantel-piece in his old attitude. " Listen, KoorLli," he said. 
" Morse will be in power, and ha wilt get me a good appointment if 
,m play your cards properly. I'm not blind. I'm not a fool. Drop 
the yXMt of stage heroine, and be fi woman, of the world. Tou liku 
Moiae'a society. He likes yours. You like the London Ufa, though 
yoTt're imainned yourself into an Iiysterical dread of unreal evil*— the 
glittering throng, tho modern Babylon, and so on. If you want us to 
get on happily together, and to be a united husband and wife — if you 
want to further your bojs' interests, this ia how you can do it. Keep 
^ood friends with Lndy Betty, and be Morse's political Egeria — if you 
both Like it. Wby should he want to pack you off lo a distant colony ? 
W^ should you wish tn po ? " 

Koorili rose, almost blindly. "Because — because Oh.Crichton, 

have you no mercy?" She stretched out her arms helplessly. It was 
iniieed as if she were clutching at eome spar out of the sea, and the 
Itaud which ought to have h^ped her to safety had only seized her 
wrist to dettoh it from its hold and filng her out again U]>on the dark 
tossing waters. Her voice broke in a passionate ai>b; but she Ci'm- 
Oiut^ it after a moment. "I will neiwask Mr. Morse to give you 



170 '^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

arterwanb, and begged me not to let Eiutnce know. She s^id abe iiail 
done it f>>r my gouil. Sbs Deed not hnvebeen afraid. / waeu't likol; 
to UU Eustace ; 1 wna loo proud for lliBt, But I felt bad enough, I 
otu tell you ; and I Sew out ot Lim— about notiiiiig in particular. 1 
stormed and roved ; and llir n, ivben 1 couldu't hold myeelf in any 
longer, I ru^ed auay up into lii« hills. Oh, you needn't have ffiiodal 
uiy Boeing you cry. Cry 1 Wliy, rvt cried caiaracts." 

" Oh, pour Zpu ! " murmured KoorMi, 

"Never mind I I've got a happy faculty for throwing thiagscfr. 
It's nil right as long as 1 keep gaiug on like a etesm engine. It wu 
DP in the hills, above Glion," nhe went on in her hard bitter way. 
"1 lay on the ground and cried and iibrieked. I dare say the peopla 
in (he vincyBTd thought I was mad. So I was, for a bit. Then I 
piekeil myself up. When I gut back, Eustace vroa smokiug ci^aretlei 
and reading 'Autour du Mariage.' He aaked mo, with the puUteaen 
of a Spanish Don, if I would mind, when I was quite calm, stating 
my wiiihes ch arly, bo that ho miglit comply with them. I could have 
stabbed him ; I was wild with ra<;e. My blood boiled su that it tent 
me into a fever. 1 went lo bed for a week ; my fcce swelled. I 
wouldn't speak to Buslace. After a week I gut up. There was a 
dance in the hotel that night. It was the first time I had tnet Lord 

Arden since my marriage " Zen stopped abruplly. '' Well, that 

was the end of it all,'' she added, "end J don't mean to cave in. And 
you mustn't <ither, Eooiili. I jLould think I-ady Clarence Ijod seen 
the house by this time." 

She got up, and Kootili ruse too. Zen's little burst of confidence 
bad dona Koor^ good, li hod brought her bark to n ality, and yet 
the reality, when she thought of her fate trembling in the balance ol 
Crichton's Eelf-inCerestcd wishes, seemed a ghastly dream. 

The gentlemen came in very soon after EoorMi and Zen had returned 
to the drawing-room. Crichton and Morse wtre togctliei-, nnd Lord 
Arden and Mr. Dobiio brought up the rear. Mr. Dobito, a little elated 
by Euslaco's poit and the wrongs of the lalojiayers.wiiB taken in hand 
by Lady Clarence, and presently Loid AnJea spied Zcn'a banjo in a 
comer, and brought it to her. 

It naa a very magnificent banjo, like everything of Zen's. It was 
got np in richly chased silver, and it looked very ne^v nnd. shiny, and 
matched Zcn's embroidery aa, seated in a plush chair, with her feel bn 
a pilt fentstool, she held it on her lap. 

" 1 can only sing one song," she said, "and I can't play aaything 
but two breakdowns. I mix thcra up logetlier because I think they 
sound more imposing, don't you know ? And I'm only going to play 
because it isn't good manners to refuse when you're asked, don't you 

Zen played her breakdowns, and then the eorg was insisted upon, 
and she snug it with nn odd look at Eustace as she thrummed the 
scoompnniment. Bustnce was watching her; and, indeed, there n 
■omething comic and pathetic about Zen as she sat In all her ft 



"^ifAYfnfsWontn oo'Well wtth yoct." 



Gngeriu^ her haiijo, with her elbowa equured and tho hard look 
emotion kept umler still on her face. 

It was a wild little Araericin negro song. Eor voice waa sweet and 
had a melanclioly note in it, anil there was Eomeclim^ very quaint and 
tender about the soog. It liad a refraiti, which ran thus : — 



1 




may this world go well with f on, jaa, yoM. 

Nothing could be more sweet, rimple, and ^thetic tlian the air. 
The laat word " yoii " waa repeated with a sinking sad sound '■ you— 
yci» — yon!" — a pliunlivtneas lilia tliat of an evening breeze. There 
wuaomethins inexpressibly touching; in this tender, fond little parting 
wajer. 60 KooriUi thought at lo«pl. She found the tears cnmion 
Into her eyes ; she did not well knoAV why. Slie found herself repeat- 
in", in lowest tone, the words " and may this world go well with you 
— yoiu — you!" Ab the listened she saw that Morse was listening too, 
Ai d waa apparently absorbed in tlie »mg. Wlieo it waa done lie eama ^ 
tu Zenobia. 

"Now, where did you get thai song?" he asked. "Do you kno* I 
tnat it is a genuine plaatntion song — a real nigger melody; not tiA 
thine got up for a London or even a New York niuaio hall 'I I have'^ 
not beard it for years and ycare. We uaed to hear it down aoutk I 
during the American war. The fugitive slaves used to come into ouBfT 
oanips and take refuge there, and they usod to get round a fire and . ^ 
ntif, that song. 'R^oo' is the plantation attempt at 'adieu.' I do 
wish you would sing it again," 

I Z'D'Obk positively blushed with delight and pride at the Buccess iit 

' her vung. 



L. 




'THE HIGHT HOSOURABLE? ^H 

It from a SoullierQ Stfttei woman in the p«uibn wbefil 
Didn't I, iloy Bhe snid Ibo niggers enng ii on tlie plimu- 

,1 VUDdoWD." 

it again. KuorMi and Unrse listened, 
ill," said Zen. She got u[>, and Lord Aiden took tlui 
1' bfttijo from bcr, and preaeDtly fullowed Ler to another part dI' iU 

i| "Hike your amg/'ho said; "and yon have a very pretty vww, 

Bud Eboulti always sing simple things like that. It suits yuu." 
I' Zen I'joked at him io her atraight nislful wnj. 

I* "Do you thiok ii would Ije better if 1 were simpler all round? Si't 

I so much of this kind of thing?" And the touched the fringe of Ihotdi 

\ which Tiiado s eiirt of Jingling girdle round her waist. " Come, lioiuiiit 

/ bright ! " 

y Ardeo kughwl. " Honour brightl" he repeated. "I don't oVjecl 

I' tu that sort of thin::. It provides employment for poor work-giile; 

ibut I shouldn't mind if a little of it were eimvertcd into amuseinem 
for them." 
"Oh, I know," said Zen. "Cheap homes and reading-rooms, anii 
enlertsJnraents and all that. I'm giAOg lo start an entertainment 
,i, room here, and 1 want you to help me. I don't mean the iianjo sanil- 

' wiched between prayers. I'd keep them aeparaie. I've no patience 

L with the people wlio think they have only got to pot on their Sunday 

faces to flj straight up to heaven like a paper kite. Tbat wasa't what 
I I meant, Lord Arden, I was thinking of myself." 

IiOrd Arden was at that moment (hinking of Kooilli, towards whom 
his eyes had turnod. She was sitting some little distunce off, quito 
still, but with Hu anxious look on her &ee. She wag, in truth, 
absorbed in a low-toned conversatiuu carried on between Morse anil 
her husband, a uord of which she caught now and then, ]t was on 
the political situulion ; the question of the appointment had not as 
jet, siie fiiucied, been broiiched. 

"Kooi^i \i not simple. She is very complicated," said Zen quickly. 
"Your sister-in-law is not a bappy ivoniac," returned Lord Ardtui -i 
unguardedly. .^^H 
Zen drew a long audible breath. " Ah, you have found that c^l^^^l 
she said. ^^^H 
"I have let myself slip into an indiEcretiou," rephed Arden, ^^^| 
have no reason to suppose anything of the kind." ^^H 
"Oh yt'B, you have," exclaimed Zen; "just the name reason that X <l 
have for knowing It, and that is only her face and her way this even- 
in;!." After a snort pause, Zen went on with apparent irtelevance. 
"Were you quite in earnest about what you said in the haU this 
afternoon. Lord Arden ? Don't you believe there can be such & thing 
as a happy marriage ? Because I want to know," she went on impetu- 
ously, "If it's an imposBii>ility, you see, there isn't much use in 
bothi'iing about being found fault: with, for that is simply the UuQg J ^i 
- *' "-—-—to be found fault wiili," ^ — 




^^mVmrl 



rswo^inxG'o well wtr^ rotj* 



I sufp\>{e nobodf likea it, biit we uli have to put up wi(h 
replied ArUeo, uccprtain how to taka ber, and Biill thinking of KoorJHi;^ 

"Oh, but it's differmt witli me. Ail my lifp I lifivo Wn allowed 
to say ttud do what I plcaswi, fiad iiolK>dy lound Imlt, <ir, if ibey did," 
ikddcd Zen artlessly, "I didn't care. I don't menu llint I'vo had a 
happy life, tor I hBTen't, Nobody ever cared tor mi'i but Ive alwayB 
done and said what I likeil.*' 

Lord Arden was touched. "My ilenr Mrs. Euatnco " ho begin. 

And then he saw that Zen's lips were quivering. 

She pulled herself up with a aort cTjcrk arid nii uncertain langh. 

"I'm talking to jou just as I began to talk to Kc«irMi a Ultle while 
•go, and it isn't my way. I don't really moan it. Hover mind 1 We 
•re all in the dumps, this evening, aren't we now ? There's sume- 
Ihing in the air. Look at Mr. Morse — he hasti't bei^n like himself 
either. Ton wouldn't think, judgiog from his face, that ho was a 
snccefaful man and had made a happy mnniage. If ever thfre ought 
to be a hapiy marriage, I suppose that's it, for Lady B«tly is just 
perfect Yet 1 can't get over the fancy. Lord Arden, that a woman 
who didn't belong quite altogether to the great world would have 
mited him better, don't you know — eomeone altogether more romantic 
— iwae like — yes, more like Kooiitli." 

Arden and Ztn boib glanced involuntarily towards Kooifkli first, 
and lh«i at Morse. They saw Ihnt Crichton had moved awny, 
that Morse's eye* were on Koorlli. They saw that she turned 
head as if drawn by a magnetic current, and that a look was '" 
diaiiged between the two. It was unconscions ; it was very 
both pairs of eyes were instantly averted, but much was reveah 
The same thought flashed across the minds of Zen nnd Arden. S 
diet towards him a glance of torrihed understauding. His eyCB, 
meeting hers, had eometbing of tbe same expression. Jost then 
Eustace loimgcd up, and said in his well-bred drawl, " My dear 
Zeoobia, your negro melodies are very original, and charming, no 
doubt; but Lady Clartnce is an excellent musician, in a different 
styl^— don't you thing you might a sk htr to play ? " 

Zenobia flushed up, auc) with an abrupt gesture went to do bar duty 
ax hostesa. 

The evening wore away — to Koor&li it had seemed interminable. 
At last she was alone in her room. Juat as they were going u[«tiiirs, 
she beard Murso propose a cigarette on the terrace to her husband. 
The Ronnd of their voices and aieps reached htr now through the o[»en 
viudow. 

She had taken off her dress, and wns wrapped in a loose whiteeasl- 
men robe. Htr bair was unbound and plaited for the nip;ht iiBe a 
child')), in two long pliiits that fell on her shoulders. She bad occupied 
herself with it during some lime. She paced tbe room reatlepsly for * 
little while, then sat down very qui'Ct and paie in an arm-chair by " 
fireplace. She could not go to h«d. She felt that she mutt w 



i 



•rie^H 
'aleO^H 



fireplace. 

4nu luAT 



Crichton's decL-iioi 



1 



i84 '*THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

iDfiuitely pn'OShQter to deal with, H< 
feelings are nion: leodily unpnnlila lo n 
be A Toiy unrrMonable wife whii, arier ton years' experience, 
aentimeuC and fine Bpeecbes froui ber husband. KoocdM 1 
out i)t sorts the eight before. Frobablj, il' the truth could ba k| 
aha bad herself feU dissatiefied with the proves of bcr flirtatior 
MDrse. Kenwny «as an old hap d at it, and she eyidently wai ' '' 
up to all the taclics of the game, and had a little OTeidune 
of rigid propriety. She had reeeuted his appiirent wish to re 
from London, and her resentment had fuutid vent in the litl 
burst. Cricbtoa know what th»t sort of thing munt, and he 
It lasted. Kooriili could take a very practiciil view of matte 
ahe libed. She bad probably come to that view by this time, 
detemine'1 to handle Morse more artruUy. The darting Ihoi 
tbrotish him — was the whole thing a |iut-up job, after the Iior 
and Decky Sharp pattern, to get him, Cric)itOD, out of the way 
(he Lord, if that were so, he'd soon ebow them that be wasn't t 
to stand that sort of thing 1 But the sight (>f his wife's palt 
face, as she Eat under her inaid'a hiuids before the ^Insa, forced 
suggeslion from his mind. No; Kooidii wasn't deep enough for tLst. 
She had only bad a sli'lit access of hysterical virtue — had been a liHlo 
frigbteaed perhaps, had not given him credit for intending to take care 
of her. Of course he would keep things from going too far ; be could 
not let ber be placed in a false position. In the meantime she must 
be taught to play her cards Ulte a wonian of the world — to play into hia 
hand. It WHS quite time that she should aeo there need bo no affecta- 
tion between them. DoubtleEs she was beginning to aee this already. 

The composed way in which she looked up as he approached con- 
firmed this theory. Her face was like that of a statue — but it smiled. 
Evidently she munnt bim to underslaud that there was no ill-feeliuf 
on her part. He begin to admire her aa a wutnan of sense, and ta' ~ 
more comfortable. 

"Good morning, Crichton," she naid quietly. "I bops that, 
enjoyed your run." 

"One doesn't es|icct much of a run at tiiis time of the year,' _. 
liirued Crichton, with an eaay laugh. "We had a little spn after 
p\iDii cub. Old Dobito was none the worse for liia iwtatiuns ksi 
night, and a good many of the fellows sneered; and ii was a little 
bard on Zen the way they seemed to think / ought to be at tho 
Priory. By Jove, if / were Eustace, I'd go in for something better 
than French onrels." Crichton came up closer to Eooiitii, a-nd put 
his hand upon her shoulder, 'i'he maid bad left the room. " I hop« 
that you are pretty well, dear?" There was an ill-concealed touch uf 
anxiety in his tune. Kuw was the momunt for fuss, it she meant 
to mnke any. 

" Yes, thank you," KoorMi replied, rising aa slie spoke, so that he 
Has obliged to take bis hand away. "1 will go downstairs uuw. Ilv 
you know where everjbudy ia to t>e found"" 



iled. 

iliua 

I 



"Ok, xbcnit tbe tennis-gruuDd, I hncy. I said tliut I'd jilaj. 
Dutch with Jo Gi*rliiig as sixid as 1 bad got into my fiaDDUi 
Ciichloti's ^r was r.ov! quite self-assured. Cltnil]', Koor&d h 
Iq be rcasonablp, I'he counsels of ttie night had br.night Irer 
''Bf the way, Kooritii,'' he begun, aoti paused fur nn insiant while d, 
stcadUy took up n rins from a Btaad oa ihe toilette lablc, and put ■ 
en ber finger, "Morse has bad a telegr.un or Bomelliin^ from Laq 
Betty, and starts i>ff at once to meet her ia London. IIlj was askiqj 
after you." 

"I will go down," said Eoor&li mechaitically. She put on 
one by one. 

"I don't tbink you D«d say anything (o him about tlint ([ucstii 
ef the sppointment," said Crichtou in au olT-hand way. 

"Ko," she aGBWered. 

"Better let the whole tiling Btaad over till after the elections; a 
then see what my luck tnrna up. I'm a great boliaver in my luolt^ 
It has carried me over a natty place more than once — eb, old giil ? " 

Eooi^li wa^ eileot; buC he repeated Lis qucsiion and forced her to 
uuwer him. £he turned to hira with that hard blight loolc in her 
c^es which puzzled while it rca^tcured htm. 

" Yon know the saying, Crichton — about riding luck to the daTil 
^-ien't it ? I don't niytelf beliere in trustinj to one's luck, perhaps — 
because my luck Iibb never helpeii me in a trouble." She movud. to 
the door. "I'll tell Jo, fihall J, that you will be down presently?" 
Bhe Mid, and left him. 

Criohton hummed an air softly to himself a^ iie changed bia clothes. 
Hie gallop that morning hud done liim i:ood. He meant to bnve some 
capital days' burning that season. His short experience of the country 
had already shown him that he might be very popular iu the field. 
" What n confounded ass Eustace is," he murmured ; " and what a 
eonfounded ass I was not to wait till I got homo, and marry n woman 
with money." On the whole, however, ha did not look so darkly 
upon life. He felt inwardly convinced that Morse would never throw 
Up hie chances, and that Morse could and would, if KoojMi chose, give 
him Bometbing good in London. Ue did not intend to be Oovernor of 
Vuseeia, unites the worst came to the very worst, and if it did, and 
Arneaia could not keep, something else ivonld turn up— something 
else, oc, as he mvlodramalically put it, revenge. He was not going to 
be played fast and Ioom niih and not gtrike a blow on his own account. 
Underlying his outward friendship with Moraa there was a decji 
jealous resentment. He bated Morse for being stronger, better, and 
mors prospcroiaa than himself. He hated Morse, who ho taught hiiu- 
•df to believe hod started only a little ahead of him in the race, fur 
having gained the goal so quickly j for hai-ing been auoceaaful in 
AtjEttalii, and still more successful in England ; for having married 
euch a wife as Lady Betty, Lijihly bom and rich. In a strange iacon- 
sialent way ho resented while bo encouraged Morse's admiration of 
Kootilli. He felt angry and secretly humiliated because Morse had 
18 



Its "Ttrr: nram- n'omrfk^sti^.^ 

fouDil tb»t in Eoorikli wblch he bad never found, bful toachod a spring 
in her nature that he had never reached. There u-as Kometliin; 
wnrped, roorbiO, aud unnatuml in his feelings towards Moree. E« 
loesTit to make use of Morse's power if he could. Failing tli(it,liB 
would joyfully have teat a hand to hurl Morse from his poBltioo, an' 
bring diaeredlc upon him. 

There was a slight autumnal cliill about the air which at anothiT 
time KoorMi mi;;h( have found pleasant and reviving. Now, however, 
it eeemcd to strike cold to her heart. It was only too much in aceoal 
with the cliili which everything etao brought with it to her. Slie 
went out in front of the house. A little group of men and women 
was there, and Koor^li saw Morea among them. Thej were laughli^ 
and talking gnily. She went towards them. When Morse eaw her 
coining he went out 1o meet her. So did Lord Arden. 

They talked the fine weather a little j and Morse spoke of lui 
havini to go up to town and bis regret at leavin^so pleasant a gather- 
ing. It was tlie regular conventional sort of talk. Arden slractc in, 
and some plcasatit things were said, and Eoot^li was as bright as she 
cuuld contrive to he; and no one merely looking on would have ana- 
peeled that any soul's tragedy wna being enacted there all the tima, 
Hume one else added himself or herself to the group and others die- 
pecHed, and it was ahout the time when Morse ought to he saying 
^ood-hye to bia hostess and bis friends. 

It had grown to be quitea oomnnon \.\Aa% forMocse and KoorMi towalk 
Ic^cUier and talk, aod so it happened that the others of iho company 
grfldually dropped away. Miss Jo and Mr. Erie were flirting demurely 
iiver the tconia-nct. Now Crichton came out, and a set was being 
formed, Morse and Koorili were left alone. Thi y tojiin to pace up 
and down in the old way. EooriVli held her bnath, S!ie knew be 
would do the right thins ; 7^^ the moment waa critical, and she felt 
profoundly anxious. They were near the rose gaiden and that flight 
of steps where bo had gathered the roses for her on that day. l^he 
brood walk below, with its myrtles and magnolias blooming in the 
embrasures of the wall, and its tangled border of late flonera, seemed 
to invite them for a last brief inlercliaiigo of confidence. Kooritii 
Eoroetimes thought herself pitifully weak, womaniab. Her heart bvut 
with longing and dread. ISut the strength of the mnn showed now. 



face. Well, she need fear no longer. She knew what was passing In 
hismind. No; theymust not ro there— ever again. Her heart W^"^ 
aa an echo of his. Then Morse spoke — 

"It is rather a nuisance to have t« go l>ack to (own at this t( 
Mrs. Konway," he said, " when everybody is away." 

Tes; she understood. It waa exactly what idle would have \ 
exactly what she might have eipected from his tact, his feeling, 
strong steady manhood. Henceforth, when they chanoed to be thrown 
Icgelher and alone— if tliey ever were again lo bo alone — they ive:-B to 



ssins In 



Alt Liar u,, K.."VS."r»n,»«'l;»"*„tm«l^ 

vlayed. Yh «a9 ibe only "'"'', cnud-l-yo W^^^g tbat be m'5 
Uuob, SI'S '* . ' ^« tUe lawn W "'J k „ patting "i"''^^, „_taiiA ibn 




tSS "tH& RIGHT HONdV^Ait^ 

moody. She couM alinoBt fnncy ahe teafd Crichton'a good « 
ultonJ ill that fmiik lone tlint oov^red so much. 

Tbo ]iliiif toD drove away. It woa nil over, and death mu ins 
bwrt. She hnd never realized ihe meaning of the phMse till Dw 
the derxlh of tovo which had not been alluwed to Jivo, She wcatfl 
to the roee gnrden and stood anion^ tlio btuasoms and the W 
m»ny of which would be nipped before they came to bloom. ' 
one bod been ifBtchii>g' her with sjuipnthy in bis eyes. It was 
Arden. He longed tu show her that she had a friend who uoderiL 
her and felt for ber, bat he could hardly venlure to tbradthtnuelftl 
bar then. 

'Ihere was a call from the tennis-players for Mrs. Crichton Keni 
and 2«n was rimning forivard, but Arden ioteriKisod. "^ 

" No, iio, Mrs. Eualnce, Let me find your Biattr-ia-Uw fof J 
But 1 fei-l [>erfectly certain she won't join in." He went tow&rdi V 
rllL " Mrs, Eeoway, they want you to play lennis ; and jou 4 
want to, I nm sure." f 

** Oh no." KoorMi Btnrled at hia voice, and loukod at him u 11 
were avakenia°: from a dream. ' 

He saw that her eyes were hriglit with unshed tears. " Then let tt 
take a little turn instead." 

They strolled away past the rose garden and beyond the big clump 
of yews to a walk in the shrubbery. She shrank from the lower 
terrace towards which ho made a moTement, and he noticed this and 
tamembcred — be hardly knew why — that she had been walking tbeto 
with Morse yB^ierday. 

The path they hail chosen led down to Uie river. They talked om 
indifferent subjects fur a little while. Kooj'^li's rcmnrks were ocn- 
Btiained aud absent. Suddenly Arden said, ou an impulse of the 

" Mrs. Eenway, I'm sure you haven't been quite well lately, or yon 
are a little worried about Komething. Don't think ma impertinent — 
and I don't suppose I ever could do anything really in 1 he way of 
advising or heipirig you; but I do want you to know that if I conhl, 
and you'd let me, it would be just the greatest happiness I oouM 
have." 

A bright flush rose to KoorMi's pale cheeks. She turned her eyes 
to bis with an almost childlike expression of mingled gratitude and 
embarrassment. She was too trutbTul to deny that there wag anything 
amiss with her, though »he winced under the HU(!geEtion; and shv 
liked Lord Arden loo sincerely to resent his aolicilude. 

"No, there's no way in which yon can help me, Lord Arienj but 
thank you all the same. It is kind of you to think about me." 

"At any rate," be said more earnestly, "you know that T mean it; 
and I think there mi^ht come to bo a way some time or other. Some- 
how there generally does come to be a way, I think, In which a true 
friend can give one help. You'll let mo call myself your true Mend, 
Ui*. Ken way?" 



".Oh yCB, intlced; I am glad," ah e anBWered ivarmly. 1 

" it's what I am — cuihing more nor lean — whether you will liave ^ 
« bat, .And BO, DOW you know— as (hn chiWren Bay," he ndded, with 
ft little laugh wLich concealed some emotion. 

*• I know that you are very good," she sniil, and her voice Iremhied, 
^There's no one I'd rather Itu^t thnn you, nnd 1 am proud to h.ivs 
fov for my friend. But you're a little mistakon — I nifan in think! 
thftt I nenl help or advice — or — unylbing now. My way 
■tnigtit. I've ouly got to walk id it." 

" rroroise me, anyhow, that if you ever do want them you'll 
IDA a chai'Ce," he pleaded with nlmost boyi^b eiigcmea " " 
uJUj nmke the fii^miM, Mrs. Keuway, tincQ yoit are so ceriam ma 

She thought a laomnit or two, with ber look bent on tlie ground. 
Then she raised her dark truthful eyes to his face. &he Baw gn:at 
kindneBi, true inlerest, and perfect Hincerity written there. 

."loever had a sister," he caid, "and you are jnat the woman Pii 

Ifts to have for my Bister. Conio, won't you give toe the promise?" 

■* Yea, I will," she aiud timply ; " and thank you, Lord Atdeo." 

There waa a little Bllencc. lie tvaa more moved than lie cared tq 

ebow. They turned homeward. Presently he said — 

" You n^vor met my father, did you. Mm. Keiiway ? " 

." Lord Foiieat ? No. But he never goes out, duca he 

" Almost never. He ii nn invalid, aud belongs to the past somehowr. 

He livis among IxH'ka and picturea and bric-&-brao; and the iiouso is 

dreary and seeme to want a womnii about it. He has a chivalrous 

•ort of lik'ng for just a few women — Lady Betty Uorsu is uoe (if 

them — iiiid they gij to see .him now arid then ; he very mii'ly goes to 

>bj Iff tl.era. 1 think you'd like him, Mrs. Keuwiiy: nnd t know 

iii^ be ileeply inten^stcd in you, and that you would l>e duing a kliid- 

new if you'd let nm take you to aeu him some time when we ars alt in 

LoTsion again." 

" 1 will, moet gladly," said KoorSli. " I hue hoard oi your father 
and I I ave made a picture of him in my imagiuntiun, and it t '" ' 
a greftt pleasure to me to km^w him." 

Arden knew that her sweet poetio face, her syrnpatheiic i 

a«nce, and shy, graceful manner, with the suggestion it gave of 

' ihng un-linglish, would delight Lord Forrest; and he bud an in 

lire feeling thai the friendship of the culLivatcd, escluaive, 

^valious old Jacobite noblemuu might be of sdvanbige to her in 

rhat difficult part she had to play in Loudon eocie^. 



h.iv9 

kiojl 

i 



i 





"rW£ RIGHT HONOURABLE* 



CUAPTEH XSIV. 



MonsB went that ereniog to meet his wife at tbo Charinz Cron^ 
sUtion. 'i'he cuispartroeat ehe ocoupied waa in tLe lovrer eod d tho 
train, aod it ^^'as she who came first towards him, instead of h^m find- 
iog ber. As slie walked along the pialfona, the light of the electric , 
lamps full upon her slundci figure wrapped in a loDg furred cloak, UhI 
her fright small face unshaded bjr the little travelling cap she wore,! 
strange, sudden feeling, not nafaniiliar, rushed over bim — a fancy thit 
he was somehow in the presence of s ghost. He h.-id felt this npon 
his Erst meeting with Koorikli in England. Ue felt it now, wtiea 
looking at hia wife. It was as though Gome association c 
with the two women hronght before him the shade of 1 
cherished ideiiL Which was the ghost?— which the reaittj? Uadbn 
fouud his ideal ia Lady Betty? or had it sboue ujion him hut o 
long ago in the soft hrightncss of an Australian dawn ? 

Lady Betty was lookiDg well, iiutn itbt< landing her long journey. 
She bad a fniot colour, and her eyes apnrkleil. She was glad to see hvt 
husband, and showed it io her pretty, holf-e motional way. Murae hod 
Kometlmes found himself wondering a little bitterly whether, under 
any concdvahle circumslanccs, Lady Betly would be capable of taking 
a hijiht beyond the circle of her own Bw?et superficial nature. Ue 
could Dot imagine her rising to such a hei>;ht of passiouate feeling as 
to bequltefuri^etfulof what theCourt might say, and lobe quite inaea- 
sible to the picturesque and the becoming. 

Lady Betty put ber arm within that of hrr husband in the most 
charmingly approprLiting manner. She took him for graiiierl, as she 
look far gi-antcd all the other ftictg in her pleasant life. It was not 
necessary to bo effusive. " Ob, IJandbam, how nice of you 1 I'm so 
tired, duar. We've had a hoirid crossing. Let us get Into the carringe 
and go off. John can find Malicg and see about the Iit^age ; " And 
the gave the footman stoDding hy a gracious hllle nod. 

When they were in the carriajje driving homeward Morse kissed \\\i 
wife, and she nosiled to him lor n moment, and gnid— 

' How nice it is to bo in smoky London again ! " She asked one or 
two questions about home nfTaiis and about the whereabouts of such 
Qudsuch of her frieuda,BDd she bad. a great deal to tell about Hmuburg 
gaieties aud the royal wedding:, about d rumoured furei<rn alliance 
and a nmioured foreign appoint then I, and about the nice things wfaich 
certain great j^ersonagos had s^d to her. And then site heaved a sigh 
and was silent. 

"What makes you sigh, Betty?" asked Morse tenderly, 

"Nothing, dear. I've got a lot to oak yau about by-and-by — 
political news, and how you have been getting on with yotu' canvasa 
and that. 1 wub only thinking — it's odd isn't it? that we should liMH 



WWiBBWS PHANTOM.- 



\ should ^^1 
twivgamm 



lieeu IcadtDg such difTerei^t lives — jou and I, and Ihnt ;oa e 
nu out of it, ID all tbnt has been Inicrefting nje. 

"Well, dear," wiid Morse, with b smile, "if I am out of it S! „ 

your Rojalties, I think froii) the nature of things }*<ni'd hafe lieoLi still -' 
mofe out of your element nmong my working-iiirn." 

"I thiok I be^D to hate the working-man ," F»i<L Lady Bill}', with 
»sHver; "especially since they Ijftve ipven biro ft vote. I think it ii 
bumble for us to have to truckle lo the loner classes, as 1 su]ipoBe we 
miut do now if we want oiu people lo get Id." 

They hud reached home. Later, Lady Betty baling exclinnged her 
traveiling dress for n tea-^own of rich coloured Oriental stuff, iu which 
she lookid very young and very pretty, and more tlon ever like Bomo 
bright tro]>icnl bird, wai sitting with Morse over the tire in her own 
boadciir. Almost all the other a-ltliiif-rouniK were covered up with 
brown hoUand, for the house hnd been given over lo woik-pcoplo, and 
Lh^jt Betty was cmly going to be a ftw days in London before set' ' 
off on a round of visits to great country houses. She was n little t( 
«( finding that ahe would have to make most of these vis:ts k1__ 
Morse hsd decided a short while iK'funi to contest a Tory strooghc, 
Id the south of England, keeping liia own coostituency, whcra a 
Knightconsider birasclf rafe, iurescrcc, and there were political n 
to be belli, and preparations to ba made fur the battle. This 
been cspkinin^ to her. 

"I thought you'd have gut soma of 'iiat done before I cam 
dear," said Lady Bi tty, with a pebtore of repnach. " Tin afraid tl^T 
youVe been neglecting your duties just Intely. But I suppose the 
duks'sshooling parly was a temptation. Was that wheic my lelegrnm 
fouad you, Sacdham?" 

" 1 did not go to the duke's party," replied Morse, speaking 
deliberately. "I went to Bromswold, and I have spent (ha last two 
diiya at the Priory-on- the- Water. That was where your telegram 
found me." 

X^dy Betty looked surprised. "The Priory-oo-the-Water?" she 
Kpest«d, " Ob, I know ; the place that strange Mrs. Eustace Kcnway 
!Mist«d on scraping. Wasn't it odd for you to go there, Sandbarn? 
Whiit was the attraction ? Not Mrs. Eustace. I suppose it was the 
fair KoorAli?" 

Idldy Betty's light words made Morse wince with a fiitnt sense of 
guilt i they hurt him. Hut his face was quile inipas.~iv«nB he answered 
quietly, "1 was very glud to liavo the cbnnce of meeting Mrs. Cricbton 
Kenway. That's quite true, Betty. 1 lucked upon myself as a sort of 
]ib>g]iah ga<!father to her." 

"Oh. toy dear, all London knows liow much you admired tho 
Austrahan beauty. By the way, Saniihain, ptiiple aeem to bi^ getting 
K Utile tired of her. She is rather stupid, don't you ibink?^ It — 
only ber being new that niade her take, It was sometliing qaite n 
indeed, to see you in the character of a woman's admirer, Sandbag 
I TBtber liked it, do you know? It made you more like other peif 




' T99 •^rrre lersffT ffff/i/omfjtff^* 

I VTAsn't tho least weo bit jealtnia. I was quite proud of having broosK 
her out; mid didn't I make things nice for her, as 1 promised!" 

" Yrs, Hetty," ha wid, rising us he spoke, and looking down upon I 
licr with deep c;e«. " And I thank jou, taj dear, for your trust in mo.' 

Something! in his vcioe mode Lady Betty glance up at liim quickly. 
"Baudham," eho ciolaimed, "you are not looking aa well as you dii 
whon I left. Yon seem to me to have aged." 

"'I'hiil's natural enough," said Worse, with an effort at lightne: 
" At my time of life, child, a few weeks of hard work and worry w 
make the difference of aa many yuan, where grey hairs ntid wcinkl«£ 
an in qucBtion. 1 am quite well, but 1 shall prubebly look older still 
hcftrc tlic elecliiins hto o»er." 

"Oh I tho clrclions!" cried Lnd.V Betty mournfully. "I del«t 
]M)1itics DOW. 1 fei'l uncomfortable whenever they're mGDliuni.'d. And 
yet I liBcd to ba ao intercsteil in them. Of course, everybody belong- 
ing to me wna in Pariiament or mixed up with it all, and it seemed bo 

natural when I niariied that my husbftiid should be a politician " 

Bha stopped suddenly, and sighed. 

"Go on, Betty," said Moi'se. "Why do you detest politics now, 
sod why does it veim less natural that your husb^ind should be a 
poliHcian?" 

Lady Betty hesitnled a moment. "Yes, but a polit'cian whom all 
my people and my (ricnds tliiuk so mistaken, don't you know; whoso 
views are entirely nut of harmony with those of ray own class. Oh, 
Sandham, I didn't want to say disagreeable things or tell you how 
troubled I have been, — just the firat evening." 

Mtffee Stooped and put his hand for a moment on the bttle dark head, 
" Thire you are wrong, Betty," he said. " If there are disaareea" " 
ihingB to be talked over, it's muchbtst not to sleep on ihem. Pulitj 
disaujeiablcs cau't matter much anyhow; and if any one ' ~ ' 
troubling you, youi husband lias a right to know it at one 
out, dear." 

But Lady Betty did not seem inclined to say nt once what wBifl 
bei njind, She took up a feather Ecroen, and held it between her fiT^ 
and the fird, while she seemed to be looking tlirougli it, so fixed n 
her melancholy givne. _ 

"I wigh it was not the f^ishion fur women to canvtiBa," she said; 
" they're all doing it now. 1 liope you won't want me to go down wiili 
vou to CIaybiid;^o when the time comes, Sandham." She turned her 
face up to him now, and tears were in her eyes, "I couldn't. I llilnk 
it's horrid for a wife not to uphold lier husband, and I admire the 
women who do it. But I Ciin't go to Cllaybridge." 

Morse laughed a little discord iintly. " You speak, Betty, as if I 
were a criminal who wanted you to stand beside liim in the duolt, I 
wonder if you wuuld stand by me— so? I shan't put you to that U 
however, child." 

" Oh, Sandham I " murmured l.ndy Betty. 

■■ Or to the platform test either, he wont on. " You d 




nally that I cnuld wish ymi t« sully your duUcnto bluom by 
Votca out of unwilling Tories? Oh do, Belly, my wITo s'luult 
laving nod tender and poetic fur that botC of thing. Tlint ia 
'akK cfT a {loliticiSD's Hclpuinta, I don't cnre for cnnvntviiiig 
any more than for speech-makiDg women. There u»cd lo l>0 ft proi 
in my part of the country nbout a whistling woman and a crowing ' 
No; you need not canvass for me, and if Ibis is all that troubles 
set your mind at rest." 

"It is not all, Saodhnm," said Lady Betty, She look^ at 
agiiia, as he atood over her with Iba Antk, expression on his fooe. 
ungenerous thought, a sort of hope, shot through her mind, Migl 
be not be one of those who, as it is phrneed, lan with the hare nun 
bunted with the hounds? In spile of bis democratic principle*, hia 
{ocfessed disintercatedncBB, be hnd married Lord Germilion'a dauglilcr, 
and this marriage h >d iu a great measure opeued oat bis cnreiT. It 
wu Quite conceivable that lie should not wish bis wife to be too 
conpwtely identified with bis political schemes. Was not she the 
oontradietion to that horrible imputation of leagiLo'with socialiatit ami 
roTolutionists which she bod TDgnely heard cast against bim? 
moment later she was ashamed of having harboured for an instant 
insBing thought. Morse ha-i seated himself liesido her, and h's 
was dark no longer. 

"Come, tell nii-, Betty, what is the matter?" he asked tenderly 
with genoine anxiety. He looked into her eyes, whioh were wi^ 
and a.-id, and he felt very afTGcUonate to her, and not a little penitent. 
Bis thoughts reverted to the trust she expressed in him a few moments 
ago. If faith were rooted there, what matter all other unraiih? Ha 
ira* fond of her — very fond ; and if the idea bad been presaiog harshly 
upon him uf Ute that, she was not quite so mucli the companion of his 
beftTt and of his thoughts as bis wife ought to be, he could not but owu 
h) himself that there was a certain lack of loyitlty in the admisaiuiij 
even in the very perception, of sucli a reality. 

Ladjr Betty seemed to become naore herself again. She turned 
him with a half-questioning, half-deprecating air. 

"^Bondham, my dear, I have been hearing such things 1 I d<i wti 
yoti would tell me they are not true, and let me say bo to my fat'" 
and every one." 

"What are these dreadful things, Betty?" 

"Xou are not anti-English, Sttadham? Tou don't want Bngli 
Isnmbled bofore foreign states, enemies, and all that? Tou don't h.. 
tli« Court and the princes and priocesses 7 You are not A republicat , 
piot one of those horrible communists? Not reiUly, Sandham — I mean 
really?" 

"Who has been saying all this?" Morse's brow darkened again. 
tie WM wounded by the idea of bis wife cOmiog to bim with her hei 
full of things that had been said against him — in 
would Bcera. 

Lady Betty furled and unfurled her screen. " Well, they 



A 



d ^1 

1 




194 "THE ftiGHT HONOURABLE." 

kit told to me-^ot directly. There were a tot oi the lulitlcal wtd 
Ilooiburg; uid of course I read the papt'is, &iul your »{iet«hw, i 
what IR thought of them. And iieopled talked. It was half el 
lint papa hears (if thin;;! eeriously, itim't you know ; nnd he hu bi 
lelliog mo what hU frieads aey. lie was very much troubled, \ 
told him 1 wu sure Iheie waa not a word of truth in the wfatilo oC Ij 
And th«D he caya that you are a rei>ublican, and that you don't in 
Hngland to tight" 

■' Well, Hetty," Morse said, with a melancholy sort of ei 
boow that I can quite authorise you to contradict your fnther. 
a rcTiublicDD ou iiriudple, or in theory, if you like; and I duu't wi 
KiiglBDd to go to war just dow and in such a cause. Ts that allf " 

"Cot you are not a pence^at-anj-price man ? Deur Sandliamil| 
are not that? Why, think of all one's relntives and friends iu Jr 
armyiuid iheuBvy; and the princes, eoldiera nnd sailors. YoucouIqL 
be that. Papa isnys no gentleman could be for pence at any prict.^ 

"I am not fur [X-'ace at any price, Betty. Tliere are many tMogl 
would go to war Ton My dear, you liavo forgotten tho heroic advcnltf 
of my cnrly days, I aiu ufrnid, although you use.1 to say tliey w 
eo inioresting. I fought in a war my self once." 

"Yes; long ago, wlien you were young," La<ly Bitty said dMjwnil- 
ingly. "But yuu are not for peace at any prioi' — that you do t»l^ 
fendham ? I may ti'll jiaiia and CTery one that, mayn't \i " 

" I don't fancy Lord (ierinilion needs to be told that," Moras A 
rather coldly. " la Eiiglind, if ws don't like a public man, wo men 
my he is for peace at any ]irit;e, and think ive have disposed of b' 
I don't fani^y Lord Geiiuilion and hid friends really believe it of m 

"But," eMlaimed Lady Betty eagerly, "they say if you b 
Prime Mioistfir you will not let England go to war," 

""WfaBther I become Prime Minister or not, Belly, I wfll al^ 
do my best to prevent England from going to war wlion 
necetutary or justifiable. I shali da n^y Ixst to preveot tliii 

"Then you are agaiaat the Cuurt," Lady Betty said, the c 
dying out of her checks at the bare idea. 

Slorse patted her chifk fioothtngly. He was determined that S 
would ba very gentle with her. "My dear Betty, you don't know 
what a dreadful thing j ou are saying. What do you think would be 
the outcry among the people if it were supposed that to have a etroog 
opinion against a particular '' ' " 

were to prove that a public 

republicanism — why.my litllewita, your doctrinps, if they w 

would make republicnna of ibree-rourths of the English peoplfl." 

" I don't understand you one bit," Lady Betty answered j and ti 



I ri'nlly a republican? and 



she answered truly, 
want to get u] 
unfortunate H 

"Why, Betty, 1 am exactly as I have altrays been since you k 
me, and for long before. I hitvo lived in republici ' ' 




vhirb aro really reiiubiioan.and life goes aa llieru very well. 1 aJwa^J 
tulil you my ideas were republicnn.'" ^ 

"Yea; bat oae'a idesa — ih.it is notbiag. I never thnnght you meruit 
uything teaX ia all that. 1 ihaught it looked odd iiid pretty and 
picturesque, and 1 liked it. Dut I never ihuu^^ht yua reiilly meaut it, 
Bandlunu — neviT, oh, never 1 If I Jiad " She stoppcil abruptly. 

"If y>m hnJ, you wouldn't have married me? Is that what yvu 
netui 'I " he ankfd. 

Bhe did D'lt aoswer at once, but played with her screfii Tor a moment 
or two, " Saodham," aha enclaiined impulsively, " 30:1 nro not (Miiti 
til nice to me aa you used to be. You are so luiich graver oud colder, 
•fid not Bu comrorLable. 1 doa't know why It i.-<, but iUiii<^ acem to 
htm cbansf^ betvreea us aomehow. We don't ihlnk aiika, sa we 
»lway« uwsl." 

" Uned we to think alike always ? " he aaiii, mors to himself ihaii 
tuber. 

"And other people notice it," Ijndy Betty coolinued in her light 
pretty way, Btroking ihe feathers of her screca in a prroccupitd 
luannei, although she wereatatiug S. not Tery inipurtaatfact. "I.CDny 
sud so ta me not long agn." ~ 

*• Lenny !° repeated Morse in a stern, nstonish^d tone. 
tmlke<l to the boy Lenny about yourself and me?" 

I«dy Betty laughed a little uncneily. "Well, not striouHly, dei 
Bat you know Lenny Lis iilwayH had a notion that he wuuld like B 
go into diplomacy — be secretary to some great public man or aaam 
thing of the kind 1 and be wanted me to ask you, and ao that was ho^ 
the sul>ject came ut>. Tou needn't be vexed, Sandham. I fancy th 
you are a little impatient of I.,enDy. Yuu don't alwiiys takear '-'^ — 
in my toys." 

■•You have a great many, Betty. Lady Devoril and 'copy' t 
month, women doctors another, giudios and painters a third, Iild 

distreaa, American prima donnaa, and " no was goiug to Ba;. 

"Australian beau tien," think in » of chat daughter of Sir VeaeyPlympIo; 
whom Lndy Betty hud " run,' but stopped short for nn instant, ani 
ndded'^mrdiffltal pige-boys. audso forth. I admit that your toys are 
hsrmlcsa, Betty, and you soon lire of them, so it does not maltir, 

" Now you are snrtKistic and uncomfortable," cried Lady Betty, 
" and I don't know what lo make of you," She seemed to tie meditat- 
ing for a moment, and then siJd, " I think you are not quite just to 
mo, Sandham. I should never tiro of anything or anybody if only 
llicrodid not alw*ysoome a puintin everything when mote is ospaoted 
tram one than human nature — my nature, at any rale — can give." 

He looked at her with a slraoj^e sort of wonder, an nlnloat com- 
|WWOuaie interest, and seemed about to sjieak, but checked himself. 

'•For instance," l.ariy Betty went on, "you will say that I have 
ttreditf Lenny because I don't mean to hnve liim so much about me ir 
Adure, It isn't sj in the least. I love the deiir picturesque buy, and 



**THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 



u.u ^ 



, a do enylhing (or him, ftud shall miss him horrihlj — Lenny i ,. 
luu]«ft diversion when Bnylhingawkwarii liajipened. But he woulih't 
ramemher that he wns only just my pretty ]Nige. He got ijlly xiA 

sentimcDtnl and mtJouk, nnd bo " She save hor Khouliiers a little 

cbrug, and her dsrk eyes gUnced np pathetically into her haBband's 
grave into. 

" And so," he repcateil, with s melancholy smile. " Tea, I oniler- 
stand, Betty. You don't like thiogB and ptopla wlien they becume 
seriouB. My political ideas interested you as long as you thoucl't 
ihem only a picliireeque bncligraund to the mna you married; uii 
now thut you find 3011 have iitarried the background as well m tlit 
man you are perplexed snd frigbtenpd, my dear. M'ell, I am sonj— 
Sony that you sihould hare been miEtakon in mo, sorry if I ihinild 
liBve led you into any mistake. But you were mistsken. I alwaja 
B»7e you my real opinions; I always meant what I said." 

Lady Betry's cheeka grew pnle afraiti. She had wandered a little 
away from the real tronble, " Bu t, Kandham, will you esplaiu to me ' 
— she bent eageily forward — "1 aliould like to be able to pay sowiettinj 
wiien people tell nie disaRrecablo thinga." 

"1 will try lo ei] lain," he answered. 

"Do you really want to set up a repiiblio in England and lo upset 
I he throne?" she aslitd, with checks itill mora blanched than before. 
Her idea of a republic was either a very low-class and vulgar place, 
where one's coachman Bat down lo dinner with one, or a place wbetfi 
furies of women danced half-naked about the streets, bearing gory 
heads on the [loinls ol pikes. 

"No, Betty," Morse said, with alook of mingled compassion and pati, 
" I don't want to do anything of the kind, 'i'iie English iKivple seem 
to me well content as they are, »ud I would not put out a hnnd to 
disturb them for the aiUe of the linest theory that ever was btunchoii. 
You may tell Lord Goimilion that if you like; but I don't suppose he 
vrill bdieve it." 

"But if one is a republican on« wantB to have a republic," Lady 
Betty uiged, with a certain amount of plaintive shmwduess, 

" In consistency one ought to, 1 suppOBo; but life is all mure 01 leas 
n compromise, Geity — in politics, at any rale. I should be glad if the 
English people some day, at some suitable opportunity, were willing 
to try a republic; but 1 don't want to try to force a republic on 

"At Bonre Kuitnhle opportunity!" Lady Betty ex ctumcd aghast. 
"Does that mean at the end of the reign? Stop;>ing the succession? 
Why, that U the very thin" they were saying at papa's. They were 
paying that some people — Mr. lUaslertiOn at their head — were trying 
to get up a plot of the kind — paving the way for a robclhon, and that 
— oh, Bftiidhatn,my dear, they vfere saying that it wris eiiOuuraged by 
—by * 

" By me, Betty ? " Morse intemiptod almost stomly. " They faav* 
siiid that of me, have they f " ^m 



r^ 






a mj hesring," Lsdy BstCy nnswerail, a littlo frighteaed b 

nd Ilia vuico. "Of courau I would not li«en to anylliing 

Papa told me they were saying it. But, of course, h 

ttyvo think it is true, Bolljl" 

^deftr Saodbam, no; oli aa'. But, then, I uever thought tli 
OK reslly in earnest about being a repuhlican, and alt that.'' 
"Exactly," Morse said grimly; "and na you were mistaken 
e one case there is no renson why yon should not be mistaken 
[ <ke other, I quite understand. Welt, we have talked thii o\ 
enough, I think. Never mind me, Bitty ; I mean, don't trouble sboL 
infirniiing me. If thpy ask you whether it is true tliat 1 am concornei 
tn a plot to assassinate the royal family and the bcnoh of bisbop!i, ya 
can only say that you don't know, dear; that you really don't kooin 
I For you don't, yi>u see. Then you will be quite on the safe ude, usi 
JOB will have committed yourself to nothing." 

I There was a tone of scorn in hia voice which he could not quit* 
jreprtss. But he lookcnl. at tUo liule wistful face with the pure, 
'frightened, anxious eyes, and an uns[>eakable feeliog of pity welled up 
in his heart. She did not, then, understand him ; she could not 
tUiderBland him at all — this bright humming-bird of society, thl| 
child-like numnn of the world, gradou-i, graceful, sweet, and yet 
' Huapable of sympathy with his own liighest aspirations, his 01 
I deepest emotions. At the instant, Koor^li's phmse, " I do not spa 
! the langua^ie," flashed through his mind. There wsa a language, ti 
I which Lady Betly could nut speak — the language Koorllti knei 

It was very sad; but there was the truth, the unp) tying, remorselc. 
tmib. He bent to kiss her out of very sorrow for her and for himsell 
As be looked into her eyes he could not help thinking bow auriouaLf 
I like Koor^U she was; and then the strange thuuLiht thrust itself int»' 
I his mind that she was KoorUi without a souL Sometimes, in after; 
I days, it seemed to him possible that he might have been drawA 
! lowarda Lady Betty in (he first instance by soma vague perception 1 
! htf likencBS to the girl he hod seen iu the Australian dawn. Perha] 
, he had been all unconacioualj seeking hia lost ideal, pursuing hi 
I dislant dream, when he w^s paying court to the brilliant youn 
EnslUhwomaa who afterWiirds became hia wife ; and now he fin 
that she is not his ideal after all. In one of the atoriea of the fori 
I Indians he had heard of a youth who passed bis life in the pursuit 
' ft phantom woman, always moving before him, uever reached. H 
I he too been thus pursuing a pliaittoin? 

I She could not understand hira ; slio had never jnderstood him — 1 
' wife] 'I'here was no help for that. lie was out to the heart, but . 
I, did not blame her; he only felt compasaion for her. lie kissed bi 
I oa the furehead, and then left her. They parted not in anger, but i 
cctdoesa. It was the first time the^ had ever parted in real coIdnoM, 



k-. 



«r^£ RIGHT Ndf/OURASLE.' 



CHAFTER XXV. 



R enow of telegrams was eheJJing itself sofily all c ._. 
edles of tLe telegraph were clickio" and patlering liU n 1 
IDceBiuit ehoirer of sleet and baiL It was ihe middJo cf KoTimibtt, 
and tbo general elections were going on ; and the pink shower «ai on 
pf tfa«r oeceBsarf accompaniments. In the clubs, men were rushing 
eagerly np to every fresh strip of paper affixed to the walls of morning- 
rooms and corridors. I'be ereniog journals kept issuing neir editioM 
every half-hour. Congrntulations and condolences were crossing Mch 
other ; wild appeals fur adsice, for assistance, for the burrying-up tA 
voters, for demonstraiion of direct or indirect influence tliis, that, u ' 
tbe other way, wore flying itp from tbe boroughs and the counties to 
the political tiead'qiisrters of tlie various parties in London. 

It was a time of merely pleasing eioitement for those who had no 
friend Of brother in the struggle and who were not themselfes 
involved. But, then, a vast number of persons either were themselves 
involved or had some friend or brother thus situated. Tbe politioal 
fortunes of men wore being decided daily, hourly. The success of t 
life's nrabition, the sudden checi to a promising career, the utter 
bligbt of Lopes on wliicb all had been sUked — these were the eventa 
which any moment's measage might annoonca by wire or letepbone. 
Some seven hundred vacant seals to he tilled ; at least two candidates 
for ilmost every place ; each candidnte representing an enper funily 
and a largo circle of friends, all of whom profess ti> wish him success, 
and some of whom think it absvni of him to want to get into the 
Mouse of Commons, and hope in their hearts he may fail of bis desire; 
each constituency containing so many ardent politicians and furious 
partisans, and unscrupulous nire-pullcrs, and poor-spirited haiiirerB-oD 
pitifully hunting after temporary appointments paid at so iiitich a 
day ; and messengers and calj-drivers and bill-stickers — all these, and 
n whole army of other " unnamed demi-gods " — to revive a phrase of 
Eossutii'a eloquent days — were {personally interested in the struggle. 

Nominally, it was the old siruggle ijetwoen Lii»rala and Tories. 
But there was a new and a different issue invoked this lime. There 
were two seoiinna of the Liberal party — the old Whigs and the new 
lUdicals or Democrats ; and the question was which of these two 
sections was to come out the stronger after the elections and give laws 
to tbe other. The general impression was that the Tories would he 
worsted in any case. But that was not, after all, so important ft 
natter. They were now in office only because the Liberals did not 
sea their way to work together as one united party. If, after the 
eieoiions, the same want of union ehould perchance prevail, the Tories 
would hnve to he allowed to remain for the time in office, even though 
thoy should be the Ministry of a mini^rity. But it nas iinderatuod 



PINfC SNOW. 



Eserala trould amonp; themselves abide Iiy ^^^ decision at 
eaciea. If iha Wiiigs should come out the Htronfier, then 
the lU'licals would be bound on their owa pnociplea to lulmit that the 
Tuice oElhe jieople was the voice of the gods, and to let the Whiga 
lead them — for the time, at least. If ihe decision were to ha thu 
other way, then the Whiga would have to do ouce mora what they 
bad so oi^Q done before, oad conseuC to moTe on with the times and 
the Radicals. 

Then, ^ain, thcra was another question — the war policy. Would 
the Eadioiila, if they came bwk in force, go for a war policy ? WouW 
Horse go fur it ? lis Wd» denotincing it everywhere now ; hut if his 
'party came back powerlul enough to make him {'rime Uiuister, would he 
not theabfad lo tb» ''vill of the country imd go in for a policy of war? 

The«e were the questions disturbing the minds of men — and of 
iroHieD, There was one woman who watched the progress of events 
with the deepest aod keenest iaterest — an interest all the deeper and 
tlie keener hecauae it could find no relief in flxjireBsion. KoorMi aat 
In het loatly home, and waited and wondered and hoped, like a 
solitary woman who listcna for soma sound to tell her that news is 
coming from a battlo-Qold whereon fortunes dear to her heart are 
staked. 'I'he pink shower let fall no fiake on Koorlli, Shs received 
no letter or tele^am from Morse. She did not expect any ; she knew 
be would not send any. She knew that it was right he should not 
Bend any ; and yet she watched the houra anxiously. She wondered 
-at hot almoiat absolute isolation in tbe midst of that great stru;;gle; 
ind she seemed to herself nseleaa ; and life was drear. 

The Crichton Kenwaya had been for some weeks settled in London, 
Oribhton WAS now a gentleman at large, for his successor had arrived 
'fixm South Britain, and was installed at the oiSce in Victoria Street. 
Gflohton was not altogether disploa&cd at the opportunity given him 
tot cultivating his country tastes and pursuits. He (vas gaining quite 
siepulation iu the hunting-Geld, and had contrive-l to afford himseU 
#nother hmiter. Ha had hod several invitations for partridge and 
pheasant shooting ; and on the whole ha was very well occupied and a 
-good deal away from home. He had even been exercising his talents 
U an orator, and speaking for several of tho advanced Lilreral candi- 
dates at tho elections. He cursed the want of means which prevented 
liim from standing himself for a Lyndfordshire conatituency ; but even 
in this respect his luck had favoured Mm. Old Mrs, Kenway died 
jiirt after the visit to the Priory which had been so memorable lo 
Koorili, and the modest sum in ready money dropping in, as Crichton 
expressed it, " at Ihe very nick of titne," relieved him for the moment 
from his most pressing difhculties. The relief would not, he knew, be 
of long duration; the mountain of debt was still rolhng up. But at 
at nil events he waa able to start a fresh account at his tailor's, to 
throw a sop to the most rapacious of his Jewish creditors, and lo pay 
(iff his overdraft nt the bank and rectore oonGdence to the heart of Mr, 
Bonliote, the manager. 



1 
1 



^ "THE nii^T JTomtmA^LE." 

In r«e*rd lo Morse and Eooreli, and ihe bettering of bis on p 
peolt, Cricl'ton atlll tliought it good policy to let matters fillde,or « 
to do BO. Kuuiili, ou ber side, was troe to her prmcipla of self-repns- ■ 
sioD ; and niute tbat oigbt at the Priory her relationa witfa her biuUuiii 
had been frii'Dilly on the Eurlnco. She srw so much less of bim, tint 
it WSB comparatively easy to keep on the conveiilioiial plane. And 
then the elections were ihe abeoibing subject of interest. Kotblt^ 
could be done or decided about Iheir future till Ihe counlfy hid 
deckrcd for or ngainst the Mmistry io poiver; for or agaioaC Mnw 
ftod biB Itadicali. Uiicbton was as keenly excited over lbs puliticai 
ailuaUon ns a gamller whose fortune depends upon the turn of the 
wheel, but he tried to make his excitement appear lo be of A pntriotb 
and purely imperBonal kind. He l«^n to fancy bimself an autbtvity 
on jmliticnl questinns, talked as if he were behind the scenes; Mid 
indeed, with the e^otiBm which vras his babitUBl happiness, belierol 
that hie Lyudfurilsliire spoGcbcs and an article he wrote nhcut Ibis 
time in one of the monthlies would aid cODsi'^erably in swaying tlie 
destinies of England — it mii^ht ainaost be said, oC Europe. 

He hsd ptoclsimed himself an advanced Liberal, but be avoided u 
much as posEible committing himself upon the war question. Hs wms 
■oxiouB that there might still be h loophole for blm, should the Tory 
or moderate Liberal iuterest predominate. He read every word uttered 
by the prominent men of both parties — or rather of the three parties, 
for Morse and his " FeacefuL Prc^resBioniste," as they were Bometimei 
calli^, threatened the di>integrstion of the LtbetsI parly. 

In his heart of hearlB Kenwaydld not quite know whether he wiiihed 
Morse to succeed or not. Unciuestionably, if Morse did succeed there 
would ba a grand chance for Eenway's bettered fortunes. £ii(, then, 
even if Morse came out strong after the elections, might he not throw 
his opportunities away on some mod scruple ; and, then, would not 
Kenway be " altogether out of it," to use bia own phrase ? Would it 
not be better if he bnd " gone dead " with the mure moderate Liberals 
from the first ; or, indeed, with the Tories ? Be felt angry with Morse 
Gometimcs, as if Morse hod talked him into the course he liad adopted. 
Moreover, he felt bitterly jealous of Morse, simple because be knew 
that Kourall thought Morso a hero, and regarded him — her husband — 
in no Fuch heroic light. Even while he was throwing Eoorili in 
Morse's way, he hated Morse for that very reason. Hu hated Morsu 
becHUse he did not get at once all the advantages he hoped for through 
Kor>r&li's inGuence ; he would perhaps have hated bim HtUl more if be 
bad got them. Had he been u man of deeper feeling for good or for 
ill, lifo would have been intolerable lo him. But an indulgent HMven 
had endowed him with a happy levity of nature; and while there wua 
a pleasant country bouse open to him, and an excellent dinner to he 
biid DOW and tlien, and any chance, however niry, of to-morrow meod- 
ing tie luck of to-day, Kcnway conld never feel quite out of sorts wilh 
the world. He was, in one regard, the very opposite to poor Enoch 
Arden, Enoch, we are told, " was not all nnbappy ; his resolve sus> 






teined him." Eenway was not all uoluppf ; his lack of i 
stuUuDed him. 

KooHlti saw almost nolbiaa: of iii>T» now, henrd notliiog of b 
Wcept Ihnnigb ibe papers and through Lai\y Bettf, who vriu^ 
LoDoon, nnd came Bereml times to eco lier. There watt, to Eoorll^ 
mourufitl inierHit in tbcsa visits, Morse's wife, lovely, swwt, t 
nDBUble — fresh &om some sriritocralic drawing-room where Jixgnii 
litd been rampaot and tha Ultra- Hod leal s denounced as would-bo 
desIroyeiB of England'a supremacy and enemies of ihe sovertiga — wai 
« Btcangu, Siid study to Koorlli. Lady Betty talked to Koorill^ii 
OUtdder and, to her, half a forei^-er — aa she would not havs talkul t« 
MM of her own set; and she allowed this to be appnrcnt io a pretty, 
nmple way, which touched tlie Australian wonian. 

lAdy lietty was in a curious, half-elaied, lialf-distrustful frame of 
mind. She was elated at the extent of her husband's iollaence over 
the nation, alarmed at tha effect it might have upon their own imme- 
diate aurrouDdiugs. Lady lietty n'as entirely conservative in tendency 
■od education, and Lad ncvec felt any true sympathy with her bus- 
band's aims — had never even understood what they were. 'I'lU now 
that bad mattered little. There had been no need for hnsband and 
wife to take a definite stand tt^etbcr. Laily Uetly had lived on tliu 
snrface of society, and, in s measure, did Morse service by lier eclec- 
tieism. It was understood that in Lady Betty's dr.i wing-room nil 
ki&da of extremists were to be found picturesquely groupeil as In a 
•ort of political and socLil kaleidoscope. JUorso had fnlltn into a 
beooming attitude, and till the break-up of the Administration to , 
which tie belonged. Lady Betty had never frit nny real uoeasiiieea 
aa to his political career. Bnt non that the party phrases luul become 
bdUlo'^ries, now that Eugland was racked to its very centra by party 
■Uife, now that Morse had steered buldly to the front, taking the wind 
ant i^ the sails of other leading Bodioals, Lady Betty began to f^l 
fcigbtened and uncomfortable. She fancied herself less popiihu in ths- 
Utmrt and aristocratic circles, which were all in favour of war U 
resentful of the growth of a democratic party. Some high pemonna 
remonstrated with Lady Betty upon her husliand's utterances. Sl,^ 
wished him to he a Prime Minister, but she did not wisii him to ba3 
Prime Idioister notoriously out of favour at Court. Het own peojJa 
were bitterly opposed to all Morse's views j Lord Forrest, the only 
one who might have hod KOtnething to say in their defence, had gone 
abroad, 0]>enly declaring that he wanted to be out of tho way till the 
hurly-burly was done. Wherever she wont, Lady Deity hi'ard oC 
nothing but politica, and was made to feci herself upon tho wrong side. 
It was quite a new esperieuoe fur lier, and not a pleasant one. Theii, 
somehow, there had crept about rumours of an alliance between Morss 
and the Socialists, and of dark, revolutionary plans; and poor Ladi 
Betty, knowing her husband's friendship with MntiteriiDQ, had qiiala 
uf doubt and fear, and when cmliarrassing little inoidents ocounT 

>iild not laugh them off.as had b(-en her custom. Nor could she f ~ 
14 




ita ' '•TffE Riairr nofmimASLEj 

CTDrjithlnfC OTcr frnnklj witti Morse. A carious chill huil crept d 
IwLwoeii tlieiu, aad she had a feeling of septiratetieas from himudaj 
iiubitllp to enter inlo big mood. He was not less gentle and Mil 
■iileratc, not lets afTectiuoate — iiidei'd, som^tiiaes his manner lodfl 
mdHnclioly loiidertiea» wl.ich set her wondering a liltln. It wU jnij 
a faiul imiication of some want of generoaily in Lady Bett;'« DStHfl 
that she accepted it ai an acknowledgment of wrong to her — oFoounI 
she thought, it was a wrong that he rhould not modlf; bis attitndT 
litilo in deference to her opinions tind aasociutions and Iriends. ' ' 
Betly wasnotsenEitiveenougii to be idire to what was pt ' ' '*" 
Morse's mind, but he was able to read hers. It is the c 
«triiDg natures, that an impression bus sometimes the detei 
Etn'n»th of an act (vitb them, and that thoy cnnnot close minilti, 
t^ys ftpniust irapreaaiona. 'i'o pnint well, it is said, we should not l|4 
too well, should not have eyes that take in every deiaoL To gotfl 
well in life one should be menially shortsightod. 

" Dear Mrs. KenwBy," Ludy Betty said one day to Koorftii, " 
ought to bo very thankful that jrour husband is not a IUdical4 
least, I suppose ho is one — but not too advanced ; and, then, h ' ' 
in Parliament, or in the heart of tliirgp, don't you know." . _ 

"I think I should be very limntiful and very proud if my htisbHnil 
were 'in the heart of things' hero, Lady Betty," answered Koorlti, 
smiling a little sadly. 

"You are a republican — oh yes, I know" — said Lady Hetty. "I 
don't mind it at all in you. I think you used to enonirage my hus- 
band a little in his notions, and IVe heard j'ou agree with the American 
Minister that monarchy is only 'dressed-up dummyism,' That sort of 
thing IB quite natural and picturesque in Australians and Americans, 
but, of course, it is different with us. The Tories were in power before 
I married. And theti, you see, there's the resuK of the Court training 
that Saudham used lo teoae me nbuut." Lady Betty laughed Eoftly. 
" ITiBsa eiaciions and the war have mode people so horribly in earnest. 
and I think you have reason, Mrs. Kenway, to be thankful that your 
husband is not the future Radical Prime Minister who, every one says, 
is going to turn England topsy-turvy." 

" Every one. Lady Betty?" esclaimed Koorlli with warmth. "A 
Radical Prime Minister must ba the choice of the niitiou." 

" Oh, well 1 " said Lady Betly, with a pretty little shrug of her 
shoulders, "I think 'the nation' is all very wdl as an Hbstract 
quantity, don't you know ? and a faithful shepherd is very jijcturesque 
in opeti-air iheatrioflls at Coombe atd that sort of thing; but when il 
cornea lo letting haymakers settle our foreign policy lor us — well, I 
think 1 prefer the feudal system." 

" It is not the agricultural labourers who disagree with you," kSid 

KoorilL " They are all voting against the farmers, who want peace. 

It's the farmers and the educated working-men of the cities. Lady 

Butty, that are sup|}ortiug your huxliacd." 

" My dear Mrs. Kenwoy, you io know about it. You know ever eo 



mmatmBormm 

i more than I do. Sandham most Lave ftitiiiil y( 
((tan ever he founil me, 1 am afraid." 
lud the sdvantage of knowiDg nottiiog nnd of hnrini; no i 
*," Koor^li said, with a smile, " My mind wu a blank 




i\ Saodham wrot« on it," Lady Betty aaswercd j;nicioii!i|y, i 

ig for EoorSili's words aa apiitJcntion Eooriti hud not thoa 
[ them, " Tes; it does luake a difference. I mis brought 
a WSJ — ia a narrow way, I dare say ; but one can't bcTp 
IS that aniTound ddb at the beginaiog. Sometirocs 1 v 
^ a had converted me ; for I don'l suppose now I could e 
^_ converted him. Of course one would like to feel ex.ictly aa oneV 
liUaband felt; and to go with him in evorythin^. But I dcin't think 
he erer tried to conrtrt me ; I really don't bcliove Im ever diJ. And, 
of couree, if tie did not try, how was I to know that he wautol me to 
be Mything olher than what 1 was? " ^_ 

Lady Betty was arguing tbna to herself more than toKixirAli.aritulMfl 
in ft half-pbiintive, half-complaining sort of wny. Kooriili felt doe|^^| 
tenched. It uiight Imve been well, she tbouglit, if Lady Betty's bnwH 
feuid had tried lo bring her over to hia own views; and yet slie coonH 
cttdty DDdersiand how a strong man would prefer to «pare tli.it eweet, 
lliat gently frivolous nature the trouble of a political conversion or n 
polit^al education. It is the generous mistnke of tho strong, when 
the strong are generous, to fnncy that tho weak can by any manner of 
protection be ennbled to evade the perplexities of the life that h aruon^fl 
them, and tbil ate, like the east wind, sure to Qud their way in. ^H 

Rf , CHAPTER XXVI, ^M 

f TUG FROOBBSSIVB CLUB, ^^| 

elcctiona were over and Morse's hojies of an. inilepcndont party 
were ^onc. He bad hod up to the Iitat a fsiint belief that it would bit 
possible to get together after the eleotii^ns, and by virtue of theit 
mandate, a party strong cnongli to re;iu(lialQ the foreign policy uf t^^_ 
Goverutucnt and to save lhe country from war. The elections kil^^H 
^la hope. The result was that tlic Conservative party was in a ho^^H 
less minority. The Liberals united would be in a atrnng mniorlq^^f 
and of the two sections wldch made up the party. Morse's friends WO(^H 
much the stronger, Moraa was the cominn; Prime Minister, every one 
Bud. All eyes turned to him. It tiecame known that the Govern- 
ment would meet the new Parliament, and would hold on until u voto 
of confidence ejected them, 'i'hiit would happen almost nt once, as a , 

matter of course, people taid ; and then would come tho Lilwral part 

led by a Radical Prime Minister. "Happy man, Morse!" tho 

saii. "Not yet quite forty-five years old, and alreiuly at Ilia Lo! 




X>4 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE:' 

liisBnbilionI rrime Minisier-^the first R&dicnl Prime Miniiterli 
En^hndl" Wl.cn tha news was lelographed t« South Britiiii.ll 
otpital of (he CLiloay wm UlumiDalcd in honour of the triiunpli uf tS 
nun who hml once been ftt tho head of the Government there. L 

mnelf-nine men out of every hundred hailed Morse alromlyl 
Prioie MiDJEter. Yes; but the hondredth man — as Moras hiuiC 
would havB put it — the hundredth man, who knew bottar, nhsl^ 
lie Mf ? Morae bnd nlraady made up Lis mind. The nuijority of'S 
Libernt poriy «'n« in fnvour of a war policy ; and Moraa would soW 
iha Minister of a wiir policy ; at leiwt, under Bticb conditions. HsJ 
no peaee-Bt'Uiy-prioe man; ho was convinced that pence hiul nfl 
times many evils lar worse than war. Ue did not believs tbatl 
mere brestb, is so great a thin^ as to be worth keeping at the si 

of any nohlo purpoee, or the expense or any national cause. 1 

waa cooviaced that war jnst then, and war for such a purpose, wonM 
ba unjusl ; that it would come as the result or a whole system of pnliay 
of -which he heartily diBapjirovedj whioh he detesiedj and there was 
but one course open to him. 

Morau coma up to town immediately after hU own re-election. 
Lady Brlty, who hod Rone to her father's place during the last part o{ 
the Blnit:gle, did not h.iBten up. She had beard Morse's decision from 
him, and she was hurt and troubled by it. She could not understand 
it', sha could not underetaud him. She was very much displeased 
with him in her pretty pouting little wny. There bnd been another 
small scene between them, in which she bad implored him, with all the 
earnestness and logic she bud at command, to yield to the jiressure of 
public opinion, to seize his opportunity, to espouse the war policy and 
ingratiate himself with the Court party, and lo justify his change o( 
froDt by the cl]an:;ed SR[ieat of the situation. He had lintencd to her 
arjniments and her entreaties, and had coldly, almost sternly, refused. 
Lady Betty was deeply hurt by the rt'fusnl; Ehe thought she bad ■ 
right to a^, and that lie ou:^bt ta do what she askvd him so earnestly 
to &Q. If he were to ask her to do BDythiLig, would she not do it? 
Ah, yes, indeed she would. She wanted him to ba Prima Minister. 
She wanted to flaunt him and his great position in the faces of the 
relatives who once tried to look down on him ; and she wanted him 
to be at the head of a War Ministry. For all her sweetness and 
gentleness ber bosom throbbed at^ the thought of England redeeming 
all her past glory aod as victorious in a great war. Would not her 
father and all ber relatives be proud of her husband then ? And sha 
wanted Morse to give ministerial places to ever so many of her friends. 
There were soma dear women lo whom she had already nil but pro- 
mised places in the Ministry for their clever busliands. lIoreoB 
some of the things Laiiy Betty bad been hearing at her father's 
more and mcire In Ler mind. Lord Germilion's friends wool.. . 
BB.ying that it was so uu-English to tbiuk of truckling loany Eunt 
power; and she was jjorticularly aniious that her husband ali, 
prove himself a thornu^h Englishman, with plenty of fight ia b 



» friends, 
but pro- , 
Horco^^^ 

idd^^l 
Eurol^H 

idah^H 
titil^H 



l?"^lpa tliEio was """ jiy, connei^ . ,^ often very "' ^^n, ^h 



3o6 "■THE RIGHT JIONOURABLE." 

ivmoA lo cull on Kocrllli. Ho knew she was at home. He thni^ 
pcrUEra slio would expect to see him. Ifelio knew ibnt be hiid»- 
luranl to town, he tbouglit slie would be <litui|>poiiitGd if be did nut gi) 
tn MS lior. llu would Iihvo dfarly liked to lell ber first ot Ilia fiiei 
dvlvrmiuntiou. She would underslftod it, be koew, be woU kmo. 
Yet it did nut twm to liim tu if bo ought lo go to see her, as if ha 
oould go to see ber. Nut ooe word of love bsid ever boen epa)»n 
bolweeo tbom. Ho might have gone to ree bor now as well 03 in otlul 
ilay^ ftod no one would have liiou^bt nnychiug Hbuut it. Bui bt 
could not go. To do so would not be in aecord with tliat code of dutj 
be bod prescribed Tor bimselT, nnd which hnd been tacitly UDderttood 
between ibem. He knew that thiiige were not now as tliey bft'l been 
brfnre those days in Lyodfurdshire. He knew that he lud come W 
think for too much about herj and the teiriblu thought, bairrcnr, lialf 
certainty, that ehe hnd come to think too much about him, wos aUnyt 
present in bis mind. "No," ho said to hiinoeif, "I'll not see her 
Mnin, unleee chnnce should throw us tugutber in ihe ordinary way— 
I'll not go to see ber." 

He read a heap of letters and papiTs, and he saw no one. I'ben he 
folt weary of reading and went out iiiio ihe Park. It was, ne has been 
said, a Sunday ; the time wan now not Ion;; \yai\. noon. It was a fins 
cheery wioter day, and a soft sun seemed almost as if it wvre moulded 
into a bank of golden cloud and mist. The P^rk was full of people ; 
not merely fashionable people of the Row, bat eager, exciteil groups of 
unfashioonble poTEOus as wcIL Morse luoked with curiosity at eacli 
group and scene as he paacd it Here Ihi're was a Sat vat ion ist preach- 
ing to his crowd, and calling on them to arise and be converted ; there 
a social democrat hnraagued his little group, and denounced the 
political and social laws which make the wurklug-man and the work- 
ing-man's wife and daughter the victims of the &ipita!iat. Id aootbrr 
place a Peace Society lecturer held forth on the horrorii of war, and 
railed on all who loved the peace and prosperity of their naiive land 
to oppose any and every Minister who strove to drive the country ovvr 
the precipicii and into a great continental strnggle. Here and there ft 
republican orator dilated on the luiury of Courts, and made E|iccial 
reference t« the Civil List and the misery of Ihe poor. Under the 
trees tlie question of Mr. Bradlaiigh's diction was vehemently es- 
(loimded and fiercely argued. Feu away the smart pedestrians iu the 
PHrk were be^noing Id pace their furoml monutonuus promenade. 
The preachers, ornlors, and auiHeaces were nothing to tbem. The 
preachers might have been prtachiag, the orators spouting, the 
audiences wide-mouthed listening, for successive Sundays in many 
years so far as they were concerntjd. They would have seen, ]»rharii, 
that aomeihing was going on, but they would never have taken toa 
trouble Iu n.^k or lo think about it, or what it mcaot, or what It waa. 
This impressed itself upon the mind of Morse as ho stood to henr what 
one of the speeob-makers bad to say. "Aro we n)t still the ' 
nntionsV" liu aslsed himself, "just tbo sanio as when Disraeli 



1 



a Morse. It^B 



'%Hr? Tho nation which amnsea itself; the nmioi 
'^laftfh." 

{'aw men cuuld be less esotiatic or scir-conscioua than Morse. 
Vdant occur to him while he was slanding on the verge of the crowd 
^tke was a conspicuous public pctdooagB, and that aunie one would 
winrc to recognize him. He was Tor the moment not in the poliii- 
titn'a mood, lie liad become a dreamer ngain, and he was roeiUtatiiig 
*«gaety over the prospects of tijcse two nations ecttled side by sid'', 
4nd yet to nil appearance divided hopcleeBly in intereata nud fculiti<;B. 
Suddecly he lieard his name called oot; first by one voice, then by 
tootliBr, and thea by the nhole crowd; and he soon saw that the 
crowd was swelled byanolher crowd, and yet another. In fact, 
AHaid himself surrouaded by n great throng, the centre of a lai 
nrqwUr meeliog, and the meL'tiug wiis shouting aa with one throat 
Dhn to address Ihem. 

Morae had no more reverence for the dignity of elHtesmanship thi 
Macanlay had for tho dignity of hLstory. He did nut see any rena 
wliy a man who had oncu been a Oabiiitt Minister ahoulil nut speak 
ftmeeting of his fellow-countrymen in the open air. Without f " 
ling liimeetf to think about the matter, he accepted tlio invli 
mounted tlie extemporized platform, and found himself delivering a 
■peccb to a Sunday meetini; in HyJa I'ark. 

He hod the eloquence of clear purpose and strong si rai^h I forward 
utterance, with a certain flavour of the emotional, and even the poetic. 
wlijch lifted him from the conveDtJotiaL and the commonplace. 4 

" De^st from the dennnciation of tho rich," be aaid ; " they aaSt 
fcelp being rich any more than you can help being poor. You don't wa^ 
tlimii to give you any of their money ; you would not lake it, I ha[^ 
Toil are poor, most irf you, but you are not paupers or beggars, Wha? 
we want U a batter systEm; abetter adjustment of burdens; more 
rrocdom to help ourselves ; more room; more light; more air; more 
elasticity. Wo want a policy which bhall not be the policy of tho 
lliicemao and the partisan. Wo want to have the people of theso 
countriaa thought of and cared for, iu the first place. I am sorry it 
the Eastern Question is not all right ; hut I am much more sorry for 
tlie condition of things iu the East End of London, lliat is my 
Extern qui^ati on. The Greeks hetva my sympatliios; but England^ 
bosine.'ui just now ia with the unemployed poor here, at hor^ 
England's jn*Mfife r Yes; I long to see England's prealiffe mnf' 
ahtns to all the world — the prtttige of a nation with sll its cli 
luuted, indutitriouB, and happy. 1 long to see England 
glory ; the glory of honBEty, happiness, and peace ; n presligt uf whu 
the light shall shine for the guidance of all the natlous of the earth.'- 

The whole crowd took up tho full meaning of his wordi and olieered 
tumultuonaly. HastcrsoD, haranguin" hia own little group under 
some distant trees, bis long grey locks fioating in the wi °" ' 
himself all hut doxurtcd, and stopped in the midtUo of his 
auk what was going on. He was told that Mr. Morse was addrt 



and^ 
loni^l 

m 




'^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

IM people, nnil wns declaring ngniiut foreign wars; vid Uosla 
would bavo liked to run fiud ki^ Mursc'a Tccc. Ue did iodettl br 
his BpeecU lo a appedy close, and Imstcned to where Le wa« 
WBB Erpeaking ; but bjr ihe time he got tbero tbe speech w 
Hone wivi gone. 

Tbat erenlD}: tbe news nits All over London tbat Uoine hftdj 
nddrefislns a public meeiing under tbe Iteformers' Tree ia Hyd? 1 
nnd elderly |>ohticuiDS wonden^d wbat the world whs coming to. 
dowi^era sbouk tbeir heads and declsTDd tbat tbey felt so sonyX 
HO very, very BOiry, for poor dear Lady Betty] It must be ludl^ 
grief lo ber, tbey said ; but tlien they added that they always eipeelri 
something of the kind. You can't marry a man liko ihat, a repuUican 
and ft democrat, and Heaven knows wliat else, without haTUig to 
suffer for it. Some hoped poor Lord Gcrmillion would not & 
know of it; and others atkeii. Would it not be well to write 
at once, and tell blm of it, and see whether something could n 
done? 

Meaawliilo Morse, wholly indifferent to what the dowsers and the 
elderly politiwans might be saying about him, made his way lo tba 
quarters of the Pri.^esnive Club. 'J'he club held this day's meetin;; 
in a great new glooniv -looking hotel. Members of tho club did not 
dress for dinner; a fact which ratbor disconcerted Lady Duveril, who 
had recently been elected, and who wna proud of her arms and 
shoulders. Lady Deveril had bad a nimrrel with the Bamen of tbe 
Primrose League, and suddenly found herself a convinced Radical. 
Bhe was understood to be engaged in the produciion of a. political 
novel ; and she bad succeeded in getting herself eleeteil to £11 a vacancy 
on Ihe roll of members of the ProgreHsive Club. This was ber Gnl 
day of dining with the club. 

There were three ladies present this day besides Lady Deveiil 
There was Lady CoDBiance Arklow, daughter-io-hiw of a great Whig 
peer, the heaviness of uhose Whig dogmatism was believal lo Ii»vb 
driven Lady Constance into incurable Eodicalism. She had a ratlier 
mannish air of indeiiendence, a eallow face, a habit of wrinkling up 
her eyes, and a generally humorous look. Not that she was in the 
least bit humorous. She took life rather seriously. I^y Gonslaoce 
was Tevolutionary in everything; no institution was sacred from ber 
regenerating curiosity. She was the nuthorens of a work on "Boly- 
gamy and PoJyaadry in Civilized and Uncivilized Nations," which 
was understood to treat its subjects in a cool, soiontific sort of way. 

Mrs. Be<iLoald Falconer was an advocate of woman'a lights; bill 
she was entirely unlike the woman's rights' advocate of the couTen- 
tional type, the caricaturist's pattern, tihe was a pretty, bright, win- 
some young womanj a slender creature, who prattled so pleaaantly 
and anlcEsly, and got oCT suah smart and shining little epigmma, tbat 
she might have bo^uitud even an old bachclar into a momentary wenk- 
n*>sa for the cause she so bcwitchiugly advocated. Mr, Fiercy, thv (ff 
Rcientist, alone was proof agaiust lier arguments and her foscinatioa ^ 



"i<»aM 




'HE PROGRESSIVE CL^W^' 

lee the use of jiiving childmn avva.'ti overnight in ontir ■ 

black dose iu the moraing," vcaa liis somewbat gruff npr 

FalooDcr's eweet appeal. 

away wiih a slung of her 8bai«ly shoulders to 
jonvert. 
r lady, nich the Tace or an cDthuslastio SL MonJOD, i 
^ who had a bohI on oiio of Ihe metropolitan school fc 
d become knotVD to the world by her persevering adTo 
a fur the amnlgnmaiioEi of all the ohurchet into on«, d 
idple of general and equal compromise, each giving itp a Utu 
n belief ID coneideration of a similar Hurreoder made by c' ~ 
When Morse came into bhs room Urs. Ga^e whs earm_ 
liDg to induce Father St. Maurice to admit the principles 
e based her scheme. He listened to her with a sivect, c 
e palirnce, which was in Itaclf an intercstie)! study. 
was a little flntter when Morse entered. " The hero of tJ 
^ murmured Lady Doveiil ; and she had Bympathetic inquiriaa 
. > coDcerning dear Lady Bctly, which latber iiiitalod MoC 
There were also aume iuquiriea fur Mra. Kenway, It liad b« 
jumoured that Eoo^li was to be elected n member of the PrugreMld 
dub. A woman said to enjoy the coniidence of the cominic Prilir 
Minister demands some consideration. The menliou of Kooritii'a ni 
prated upoD Morso still more. He escaixd from the subject, i _ 
cODRratulatcd Iindy Ueveril upon hario;;, metaiiborically speakloj 
cacGDaoE^d the renping hook for the nvvnrd, and nima bavin;; given ' 
the mild pur«mt of "copy" in fiisbioiiabledL-avving-rooms for them 
exciting study of polilics. 

The men uf the party mustered stronger than the wi 
til more or less figures in London life, and liable at this crisis || 
attacks from interviewers. Perhaps one of the most influential persa 
wu the editor of a preat daily newspaper. A fiash of somalhins mo 
than interest pissed over bis imperturbable face as Morse nodded J 
bim. But he only strok d bis beard retlectively, and begnn talkii^ 
} his neit neighbour of a volume of memoirs that hnd lutely come 
ut. He never bunted for ioformttlion, though he got it earlier than 
any other editor in London, but waited, like the spiiler in his web, 
jDCealmg his rapacious instinct under a sort of literary priggisiaF 
. [e wrote bio^rajAiics in his leisure hours, and liad sinned a ocl 
vt doctrinaires, who wrote tiii^rapbiea, too, and kid down the lac 
e»crjtliing. 

Tivo younger sons were in tlio party, each of whom bad gone ii_ 
truioing for uEline, and both uf whom bud got so fnr as to be actuafi 
ia tbe Huiiito of Commons. Foreign nBaii-s gave Lord Albert Fulj 
lii« chosen field. Lord Albert I'egarded tbe world as bis anlehoket? 
be devoureil lenf by leaf. Wherever there was a war ha liurrh'd to d 
wwne of battle. If an insurrectioQ broke out an}>whero, I^nl AIM 
FolgcT was B sjiectntor of the progress of events aa quickly as stoaia 
IniD, horse, mule, eanuil, or ostrich could carry him to Ibo spoL ~ 



no "^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 

iDnmcnl soiuo new mnn stitrled up b foreign politics ftuyuhera, Li 
Albert vrent lor Iriin, mas introdiicod to Uiqi, compared vieva w 
hira, and mmo home and ULkcd about liim in the House of Comnu 
KoA wrote about bitn in the Eewspnpers. IIo viis well acquAinted tH 
Arabi Pasha, bac! had more tlitiu one conTereation with Mr. O'Dodo* 
BoBSa, aud tried tu cheer iip tlia latest hours of Louis Kiel. 
aa effort to get to speech of the Mahdi in iho Mahdi'a lifi:timfl,a 
got as far AS Dongiilo, when he n-os mistaken for a Freach n 
niid atopiioil and oent Inck to Cairo. 

Lord Albert hod lately becoms a devoted adherent of IloTM N 
liis fortunes, and saw himself, in anticipation, Uniler-Secretary 1 
Koreifin ASaira, with his chief in the House of Lords — master of It 
situation, as Lord Braconsfield d'esrribes the holder of so entit 
A position. Ha was particularly anxious to see Morse to-day, t 
hti hoped to get from him. In an indirect vmy, some idea aa to n 
there would bo time for him to tun to Athens and see how th| 
wars reftlly looking there, before anything serluua w 
Parliament. 

The Honourable Stephen Sinclair, a young man wilh o 
saturnine coiintonaDCCS which eipvrss a lofty contempt for all ti 
created, bnd gone into training in a diCTereitt sort of way. Us 
mastering facts and figures. He bad amassed the greatest an 
inaccurate statistical information aoquired by any living man. 
was DO subject ofien to human study or even hurnsn fancy on which 
he had not fi"urea lo give. His knowledge was offensive. He wa» 
only happy when he uns showing peo|)1a that they were nil wrong 
about everything. Since he oimo into tlie room be had accomplished 
two gralifyins feats. He had put Mr. Plercy into a passion by endea- 
vonring lo prove to him that he was utterly mistaken about aaeienlifio 
question, to Uie study of wliich Mr. Piercy had devoted aiiout half hi» 
life ; and Mr. Pieroy was sixty-four, while Mr. Sinclair was only 
twenty-six. Then he addressed himself to Lady Constance Arklow, 
and made her almost cry by insisting that the figures on which she 
had founded the greater part of the theories developed in her book 
were altogether erroneoua, and by giving her what he assured berabe 
would find to be the right li«iure8, and wliicli would prove to demon- 
stratioo the very contrary of all that she had asserted. After this 
Mr. Sinclair bounced briskly about tlie room, putting out people's 
theories hero and there, as if they were so many candles he was sent 
to extinguish. 

There was a Scottish professor, whoso principal political theme was 
proportional representation, and who commonly demonstrated the 
simplicity and clearness of his system with a lucidity wliich made 
unfortunate listeners, trying their best to understand it, become 
possessed with the fearsome idea that they were gettitig softening of 
the brain. There was a man whose theme was India, of which be 
regarded England as a mere dependency. There was an advocate of 
peace, a handsome, grave man, n-iih a full white beard and n 



ad moustaclii^H 



THE PROGRESSIVE CLUB. 211 

a face which irmindtii ono of eoine portrait of a Vonttina sanator, 
and suggested that its owiicr ought to be attired in black velvet. 'I'lie 
boBiness iu liffl of this poliliciaa woh to niiiB treatises and mako 
■peccbea on the wiBdoin o£ uiiivereal disarmament, nnd tha cstabliali- 
^meiit of an intoroatioual council, composed of ono delegate from each 
'of the nations of the world, civilized and uncivilized alike, for tho 
settlement of all disputes. He had convinced biQiacIf that the Great 
Pyramid mu inleuded to be regarded rb the centre of tba earth, and 
he therefore proposed that the council of all nations should assemble 
at its baue. One incidental blessing which ha ho|)ed to bring out by 
hia international council was the adoption of an international kngiinge. 
He justly argued that as the council swelled in numbers, and began to 
receive di^legate after delegate from the various peopica and tribes, it 
would bo found thnt some of the delu^ntes did not unilerstHnri what 
others were saying. It would, therefore, ba needful to aiopt some 
oommon form of discourse, and each delegate as be returned to his 
home would naturally teach this language to his own people. The 
Ti'sult would be the gradual instiluttun of one tongue common to all 
<ha nntions of the earth. He sometimes admitted, w:th a sigh, Ik " 
he dill not expect to have this great object accomplished iu his liti 

The dinner was held in a great bare room, itith a painted ceiling 
uod a good deal of ornamentation and tamiaiied gilding abaut it ; but 
at the rame lime an air of sumptuousneas was displnjed in the hot- 
hoBBB flowers and the table appointments, for the Progresitive Club 
prided luelf upon being in advance of soaaous snd upon ths rwAercAe 
nature generally of its repasts. 

Tbc club Rpjuinted each day a chairman to preside at the 1 
table and the aubaequent discussion. Tlie choice tiiis time fell 
Weatherby Cutis, a person of great promise it was understood, wh» 
hail just been elected to ParUamcnl. Mr. Wentherby Cutt^ was from 
tlie povinces, but had now settled himself and his family iu town. 
He WAS a big, fiotid man, rather what the Americana would call Qeshy 
than fat. He was provincial of the pruvincinl in bin manners. Be 
WAS nT^umeataiive, dogmatic, aggresaivo ; a man evidently determined 
not under any conditions to be done by anybody, and who was still 
under the impression that all London had entered into a conspiracy to 

i ilii Um, His great ambition was to live in London, and at the same 
lime to show to all Londoners how uttci'Iy inferior they were in every- 
Ihing to the people of the great provincial town from which he cama. 
Mr. Cutts had loag been accustomed to carry all before him at the 
echool board and in the town council of bis native city, and he would 

. hftTe girea evidenco of this habitude if he had bcun suddenly intro- 
duced into the midst of a congress of groat ambassadors, a conQlave 
uf osrdinaU, or what Najx>leon promised to Tulma, a pitful of kings, 
Ufi Cutte bullied the waiters a good deal during the dinner ; ai 
odeed, be ucca*ioually bullied the guests as well, if they showed an; 
InclioatioD to esprcas any aatisfactlon with the way in which thi ' 



1 



I all ^^ 

■hat^H 
iit'e-^H 

)Ut 

It- 
lb 
hi 

ly 

ie 

ed 
ill 

ne 

y- 

tie 

lUld 

tro- I 

av»^^H 



tKN doue Id that botul. Mr. Cutts would not allow any budIi eipm- 
aluoa of Approval to paas without loudly makjcg it knowu t1j»t tliU 
(art of thing might do in London, but il would not bj cmlured in 
his DiUve towu. One niomest of fearful crigU came. The bill of Hue 
■poku of aspor^ua with tlic roast, whereas the waiters were haodutl, 
ruund Een-kale. This was a clear case fur the iliguity of the chdnou' 
to asi-ort ttBclf. llr. Cutts Kummoucd the head waiter ; he would nM 
WDdeBcend to express bis icmooBtrance to any mere underling. The 
he»A waiter cime and Rtood meekly ; bis head a little on one side, *iiil 
inclined towards Mr. Cutts, n listening attitude with deference Ihtovn 
in. Mr. Cutts sternly acked why one vegetable was in the bill of fiue 
Biid anoUier on the tnbles. The bead wtiitcr did not know ; aupiiuied 
there had been an alteralloD made. 

"By whose authority, sir?"Mj'. Cutts demanded, with folded Ntus 
and knitted brows. " By whose authority ? That ia what I want to 
know." He looked round the tnble triuni|ibantly, cu if to say, "Hov 
you feeble Londoners can see what manner of men we are in tny toirii, 
and bow slight is the chance of any one gettiof; the better of ub." 
"By whoBe authority," be a^aiii demanded, "was this change mniie?" 

The head waiter timidly suggetstcd that it might have been by liie 
authority of the manager. 

"Send the manager here, sir, inatanlly — ins'antiy," Mr. Cutts said 
in ioud and appalling tones, and he struck both haoda down upun the 
table. 

" la it really worth while?" Father St. Maurice softly interposed, 
gently shrugging his shoulders. Hie feelings towards Mr. Cutis were 
brgiiining tu be very much like those which b tborouglibrod Arab 
«teed might bit sujiposcd to linve towdrds a noisy, lumbering, big- 
tooted dray horse, or a Dnmnscus blade to A piece of rnsty Iron hoop 
with B cross haiidle put to it and thus converted inlo a weajioa. 

"Another burden added to the cares of life," murmured Lady 
Deveril plaintively! "the difficulty of providing people with sotne- 
ihingtoiat, The game season is on ctrlaioly, and one doesn't need 
to tHRe refuge in call's head as a novelty; but who can blame on hotel 
n^anajiier for backing out of asparagus at £4 a bundle." 

" Well, it is jireily certiiiu," Morse inlerposed good-buinoureilly, 
"Ibat we shan't get the nspBm>;uB now; and, perhaps, it is hardly 
worih while having a conforenou wiih the manager." 

Mr. Outts shrugged his shoulders more em|<hatically tlian St< 
Maurice I'od dund ; threw out his hands, and llimg himself back in bis 
chair wilh the msnnor of one who would fay, " If you poor people 
really like to be done, »liy, have it yout own way; 1 don't want to 
protect you against your will." 

There was a good deal of general talk about the late elections, the 
grouping ol pAflies, the trijiartite formation of the new House, the 
tactics of this or ihnt member of a Cahintt sujiposed to be on its la^t 
legs, oc of an undurstaniiing arrived at between leadera of diflbrOLit 
tactions; of a threatening note, adiireflsed by the Prime Minister to 




ronistic Slate, which it tras thouglit would prucipitate w,ir; 
or And a^aiast a Liberal Mraistrj*, — xU this disciisstri, 
^ood maaj veiled n-ferances to Morae, who, liowovrr 
{hI not enter much lata the puljtical conversution, but devuti 
cipally to the ladies iif Iha parly. 
; was said about MasteTiion, Bail cec 
r demonetrUiuns. 
Htonldn't be aurprised at aiiylhi'ig MoaterBOU nii^lit du- 
nnlle or ihe ilf^er. 1 ibiuk be wouJil draw the Hue llier 
rl Albert Polger. 

c you ndmire hira ! " excliumcd Lady Conslanco Arkloi 
;. round the company generallj-. "I think he U porftot' 

pluctv SeWovr, but ba is a lunntic," f»id Mr, Fiorcy. 
M call hm lunacy entliiiBinaiii? " 
usiasm is the spur which the gods udo," put in Fadior 8 
liquid voice, 
[husissm ia the cuteo of the iudividual or of the i 
If r. Wett'herby Cutts. "It leads to piison in the one ct 

. „ and irnde depreision in tlis other," 

''"'Ob, I tijiiipalhiiie with tlio enthnsiastg," said the pretty \ti 
liglits* advocitte. " They are laugbcd at by thdr generation nnd '1eifi^ 
by ijl aaceeeiiijig ones. I^n't it 8o, now ? It's like gouiua, don't yi' 
faunr. Ah," Ehe sighted. "I'm au enthu^iut myeolf. I wi^h thai 
ifere a genius too." And she be.iii:ied on ihe editor. 

"We sbould none of us mind beit>g t&rred with that brush," cbod 
fidly repHoil the ninn of Jottera, 

"Wei!, but dim' I you think there ii Bomething glorious it 

ef a great nation rising up in battle?" Lady Doveril aaknd, revertioK 
to the original topic. " I meaa, of course, tn a rigbtful caose. I 
dWQld not like England to go to war in n wrong cause ; but then, 
thoriebt, yon know— whtn one Bees the right — ob, I do think it ia 
■o deligbtful ; it is llku the CruBatles all over agitin. I adore the 
Gnuadea." 

"When England joiocd in the Crusaiioa," Father St, Maurice said 
eerioiisly, "she bod a national faltb. She could pray fur light, and 
sh<B00uld belipvo. That true Christian faith she has long lost. When 
abe finds it sgjin she will bo able to know what is a rightful cause, and 
l^t will coroo to bur to show ber whure and when and how to strike." 
"I haven't any pallcnoe with the true Christian's proprietary 
interest in faith," cded Ura, Gage, an odd gleam lighting up her 8t. 
Monica Ihce. " Why should wu be immortal ? Why must we have 
ftotils? Why? Because we Clin think and feel ? beciuiss our emo- 
tions are wonderful ? So is the flame of gas ; but the flame goes out, 
and thero'a an end of it." 

Ur. Piercy nodded his hond distiuctly, bi>(. he screwed his cynlfl 
lijw more lightly tn^elhor, H-- did not condi'sccnd to land If "''■' 
lilio anthorit" to the support of Mi^. Gage's argumeals. 



id his cynle^H 

1 



" I nni Biiro 1 Imve trieJ to hive a failh," L.idy Devcril stud, ( 
nnslancholy lo"k upwnnlg aod a aigii. " I have beeo at ever ao 
iiiMtioE^ <>r thu 'I'beoBoptucnl Society, and I aiu a member qfl 
Society of Psychical ReMiorch. Fm bound to say that I found a q 
deal of ' ciipy ' there, but 1 didn't find inncli olai?. I've tried to vk 
things," I^dy Deveril said plaintively, "as dear Lady Betty! 
tMtify, Mr. Uurse; for slio tou hud BomotbtD|; of my thirst fore] 
etice, though she dJdo't look at it altogether from the point of vi 
tha higher life — the artistic higher life, you hoow. I'm not thii^ 
of Mr. Lfiurence Oliphani — I only hope that politica rosy faring 
roore sntiafootlon than the rest — and be more profitable. It.k 
duty of a writer to study every thin g," emphatically pursued I 
Devcril, after a little pause, liiiring ivhich she took breath andfl 
the editor's eye. " I B[i«ot half aa boar to-day tnlking to a oA 
mongt'T — getting at bis point of view. Me bad such a donltey. *, 
liave bought it if I could have kept it un the leads. Tbeambltios 
my life has always been to drive a donkey cart out slumming—* 

E lint of eyinprtthy, don't you see. But unless you undetslan ' ' 
ogoagB, it's very hard to make tbem go," 

"Come back to the war; that's tbe poiat. Are wo going to haves 
war or are wa not?" add Mr. Weatherby Cutis. 

"Oh, I suppose there can't be much doubt that we are going to 
have a war," sumu one promptly anisweml. 

" Very well, llien. Now, I wan't to come to the point at once. If 
we are to have the war, who ia ^ing to carry it on ? Is it lo bo left 
ia the bands of tha Tories? I for one say, no, no; emphatically no. 
ir tbe thing must be done, I tay, let us do it. Kick them out at 
once, and let our chaps come in; that's buuneas." 

]'he dinner came to an end at last ; tbe waiters left the roora, and 
now the real conversation, the business of tbe evening, was to set in. 
Mr. Catts, as cbairmnn, endeavoured to give a tone of hia own to the 
whole proceedings. He act about opening the businevH in a formal 
speech which promised to be of some length, and dUplayed the style 
aiimired in his town council The honorary secretary, Mr, &ewcl], 
mildly interposed. Mr, Cutts stopped and bent down lo listen. Mr. 
Orewell explain »1 Ibat itwas not the habit of tbe club to make formal 
speeches. The proceedings wore usnally conrirsalional, each member 
giving his or her opinion in turn, and remaining seated while speakin;;. 

"Oh, indeed! tbat'a your way herel" Mr. Cutts observed. "All 
right. It don't seem to me a gooil plan ; " but ho stopped bis speech 
abi-uptly and submitted to the queer ways of London. 

" Perhaps I may bo allowed to say, for the information of new 
members of the dub, and our chairman anaong the rest," the honorary 
secretary blandly observed, " that it is usual on such an occasion as 
this — I mean after a general election, or during an important political 
crisis — to ask if thoro is any member who has any reason to baliave 
that be or any other member, also a member of Parliament, is likely 
soon toceaao to belong to the club. Of course wo do not oxjiect IndiA-- 



Biwt iliaclosiirw ; but where a disclosure may be piq ^ 
dUnk I atn warranted in saying ihat the clnb would b*'' 
nwve it &£ the earliosC possible moment — in £ict, that i 
otjects of the club it the elucidatiiHi of joliticnl problems by 
•uoh infonnal disclosures. Of course, if coafidvow ia deiired, O 
dmce will bo abeolulely pn^serred.'* 

liiere nu a general cry of " Hear facar," aod all 
m Morse. 

"We expect our cliief to give «• cjine infumialioii," 
Ileveri) softly, but jet in a tons urhich oaa distinclly beftrd all on 
the tftble, anil aba turned her soft and KntimFntal eyu itpoa the In 
of fba moment. 

There was a pause; a general utcnce; a straining of aoxietJQ 

'tmt looked Euddeuly tip and saw that erery gaze naa Gxed on him* 

Ladies and gi'Dtlemen," he began, with a smile 

**Kow fur it," Lord Albeit niiimiured, and bis eyes sparkle 

■aticipation of the happy mnmenb when he should be invited I 

beooma Under-Secretary fur Fureign ACTaini with bis chief ii .' 

Himse of Lorils ; wtieu be should, in &ct, be master of the tdtuatiou. < 

"Of course," Morse went on,"I can't affect to misundrrstand the 
nteaning of what our friend, Hr. CrcwttI, has just said. I am all the 
better able lo understand it^ because I had once liefore the same aort 
of appeal made to me in this club," Cries of " Hrar, hear," and loud 
•pplftnee. " 'ITien 1 anBWcred the spptal in one way ; now 1 havo la ^ 
answer it in another." 

" In another i " The words ran from mouth to mouth. There w 
I husb ol' breathless anxiety and expectation. Laily Deveril's fad, 
grew j'ale and full of consternation. Even Lady Cduslaace Arkloirf 
K>IIowcr though she was of Masteraon, wrinkled up her brows in IL 
disturbed manner. The editor tried to look unooncerned. Futher 8q 
Maurice looked deeply interested. The man who made speeches 
uiitversal disarmametit smiled benignly. Perhaps with that excoptioi 
in spite of all acknowledged principles, there wan nob a person praai 
who had not in his or her heart hoped that Murse would sejie ' 

opportunity made for him. All had eipected soma sort of diplon 

avowal of a change of front on the part of the R^idieal leader— rHfui 
encB to new elemeota set in motion by the elections; the altenf 
aspect of the situation ; the true BtatcBmanlike duty of yielding to tlq 
wiah of a people coostitutionaliy expressed, an allusioa to Lord Pdl 
meraton'e change of attitude, or Mt. GUdsttma's, or somebody'*, na ■ 
|)rceedent and justification far a like proceeding on the part of a slntef 
Diftn now. 

" Ai that time," Morse continued, " I had to say that I w 
to tMco(ii« a member of an Ad ininiat ration then being furmwl. Kawl 
ban to say that i have oo such intention. 1 faui>e the olub will n. 
be aorry tu hear that I continue to l« one of its nieimb«rB. Ah lhin| 
oow ataml, it is ahwilkitely iui{iosBiblo that I could take 
the governnieut of this oouotry. ' I Ijelievo, aud 1 say it'wilii t 



3i6 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 

AMl^CBt regrit, that no Uinigtrj oould Htoiid jUKt now wli'ich did not 
rield to tbo di-maud fur wnr; and I will Dot yield to tliat demnnd. 
Nothing on earlb ehall ohaoge my reaolvej and tlierefiiro I am glaJ," 
he Mid, with a araile, " to bo able to annoutice that 1 shall gouudiii 
lo be a member of the ProgrcssivB Club,' , 

The ivdrocaW of peaoe jumped from his chair, ran round to Muisci 
and literally embraced him, and then burst IqIo tears of siaDer* 
delight — the tears of ibe (nthuaiaat. 

But n shadow fell upon tlio aoiil of Lord Albert Folder, and the Tm* 
or Mr. Sincldr was dark. Mr. Cutis gas|A'd several limes, but could 
find nothing to sny. Uis astonishment be^cared words. 

" He may be wrong in his deciaiun," St. Maurice said j " but he i»— 



CHAPTER XSVn. 



The newspapers cnme out the raoming after Morse's esplsnation M 
the Pro?re»f>vc^ Club without n word ur hict of the news. Tu bo 
sure, Lord Albert Fulger, who vras great on giving straight tips tu 
bis faTourite journals ^nerally, had gone direct to (he tjunda^r even- 
ing meeting of the Univarse Cluh, but then he had taken care not to 
let the story get out there. He still thought it well Ig eling tO 
Morse's (urtuaes; and he was not without a hope that Morse ml^ht 
even yet ba led to reconsider hiB detcrnii nation. Tu Lord Albert it 
seemed well-nigli impossible that a nmn so near the summit of an 
EnnliHhinan's ambition should thus clip Elysium and lack his joy Dn 
H mere Rcruple about a war. The less said, ihcrefore, fur the present 
about Morse's resolve the better. Morse must not be committed loo 
soon ; and so Lord Albert kept his newB to himaolf. The news had 
dashed him, but he was not yet in despair, or even quite despondent. 

"Queen sent for Morse yet, Fulger?" Colonel Merriman nsk»l, 
with an air of marvellously artificial case and carelessness. Colonel 
Murrimsn was supnoeed to be a contributor to a tnoraing jiajier, and 
whS alwn(B on the liKik-out for sCraighC tips. 

" Not yet," was Lonl Albert's answer, given in a mjstorioua whisper 
and with a diplomatic glance ajxiond, as if to see if any one was 
watching lliem. 

"Butslie will, of course?" 

"My dear Merriman, she hoao'l lotd j?m anything ahont it. She 
haBU't sent for me." 

" 1 see, I see." And Colonel Merriman went off, satisfied that T ord 
Albert knew all about it, and was only making n cuufuundcd mystery 
of what might as well bo told first as last. So he went d ' ' ' 

neti'spaper oliice and ijujinrti-il the news that it n 
Morse, No other lutiuber of tlie Prugressivu Club went anywhorflih 



right aboiqwi 
lywLoniiMH 



\t bis home arter the prnceediogs at the diniijer hid cnme to « 
tad iiine it happeoi^d that London learned nothing next aioroli 
kbtiut the dclermmatioa of the Radical leader not to tako office, «] 
But ta tolerate ft policy of war. 

Aa the day wore (in the news began to get about. Some or tl 
lumbers of the ProgreBsLve Club telegraphed the story early in i,_ 
Botsing to Crieiids and const ituentit in the country, and so It happene 
6a.t U got into the second editions of some proviDcial papers bclufo | 
tas announced in any London journal. The London evening papvn 
is Eict, gave it currency only on the faith of a telegram from torn 
iTOvincial carri:5poDden ts, and giiardeil themselves against guarantor 
Sag JXa Accuracy on the ground tliat there vns not time ti 
bqniry in wlmt was called "the proper quarter." 

It is needless to say that the news did not quickly reach KoorMi'i 
ftttn. But it would Dot have been news to her in any case. FroE 
rnitat peofile told her, and from what she could read in the newspa{>0R 
It wu ovident that tho voice of the majority was Tor war, and rEo wd 
knew that to mch a demand Morse nould not yield. She know he 
acta, she thought ; and she was proud of him ; proud, in a:Ivaiice, 
llil ksoIto. She was proud of having been sometimes admitted to hi 
Mufi^enee; proud of having been allowed, though even only once a 
tirioe and by gllropHes, to iook into his heart ; proud to have been i 
li]>iniiBtiiy, to be Etjlt in sympathy with Him. " Ho will forgrt m 
in all this," ahe soinelimes thought. " So much the better," she toL 
ItnrBeir. 

Cr:Cbton ciime back to London Itte that cvfnins. He wna ia 
Stale of irritation and reprcssod excitement, lie hnd h nrd a rumou 
that Horae had announced his intentions at the dinner of the 7rat 
ftnKsire Club. He had heard the disturbing rumour in the huntings 
field, and be had come up to town afler a long, unsatisfactory d;iy o 
purpose to see what truth there was in it. 

Koor&ti bad finished her lonely dinner, and was lingering o 
dining-room fire readintr a morning paper in which there was a leading 
article about Morse. She was thiublng, with an aoho at her heart, ( 
Ugrse and of Lady Betty. 

Criobton came in like a gust of harsh wind from outsido. 
Eoorlkli's regrets alxjut the poor prepaiation fur any tolfrabla dinnfl 
with a gesture of impatiinco. 

"Oh, never mind. 1 ought to have telo;;raphed. Anylhing wt 
Ao. It n'as a beastly day's hunting; no scent. I hear Moriie ia t 
town. Have you seen him to-day V" 

"No," replied Koorilli. 

drichton looked at her fcoonly, but asked no farther qijeBlJon». 
lead his letters, and began to oat his hastily prepared dinner. " WiiW, 
lie mill, " there seems to be nothing but bad news and duns." 

"What bad news!" asked Koorili vacantly. She was alwajt 
heading bod news. 

•"Oh, CluKiper wants money, and flonhoto writes that he 



■'^ 



318 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

come to diiitiur. WhMt the deaca is thu flaroared wit 
gouk If slin lilt* nothing better Tor me lo mt than stuff like tl 

'ITki •nrvant wont out. Eooi3kli inqtiircd if Crichton 1 
Zen. 

" Zan U nifikins a fool of lieratlf orer her tillage 
>ad pour men'a club. Every one ctin see that Amen, : 
thropy, U at Uie bottom ot it all. What ao idiot she ia It .... 
Ar*t*n could bo tnken by a wcnnaD like her! Eustace and bI 
ralli'B out, null he has gone over to Paris by himself." 

Kwirkli wuuid hare likpd to know more, but Crichton ms kba 
i[i lbs cook's Dew concoction, uid whb in a grutf, \ 
iiiooil. When bo had fiaisbed he got up, not liDgcring oa 
wont nvnr tha w^nn. 

" I'm Roing to t)ie club," ha said, "juBt to hear the ne*Ts. 
In bed till Icome back. Isban't be lun^. And I want ta l&U 
It's tlma we knew what we were about." 

KtMiri^li underHtood hia waye, and knew quite well that he had 
aomctblus or sitspcated something which he did not choose to ' 
na yet. It was aoinetliiug disngrecnble to him, that was plaii 
ilia ttine lime something in which he suppoeed her 1i ' " 
iiitllr«oLly concerned; something for wbicli she was to 
About tViAt she was quite clear. It occurred to her n( 
a dismally humorous way, that Crichton would be disappwnted 
times If aiiylhiug iu which she was concerned went quite wa 
left him no excuse for findiog fault with her. So much of Eeir-rJ| 
fs there left, even ia the very stlfinh, that many a man wouh' 
lively rather things went wrong and gave him a chance of si 
hla wife, than that they went right and afforded him no such oppar* 
tunity. This Is a fact whereon a certain school of thinkers, who 
believe that mau is concerned only for his practical personal interests, 
would do well to ponder deeply. For, after all, it aurely cannot be 
but that thnro arc men who would rather forfeit soi^a personal advan- 
tage than Imperil a great cause, seeing that there are undoubteiily 
men Whii would n-iw and then willingly sacrifloe a personal comfort 
or aoauieiilon for the ^akc of being able to grumble at their wives, and 
»ay, "I tiild you so ; you ought to have done this; you ought not to 
have done that; it was all your fault; you never will be persuaded u> 
follow my advice and my in struct ion b," 

Koor^li sat thinking of such things in a haU-i^aUrical, half-nie1an< 
oboly mood, ]i is a trial for a wile to be miaprized by tlie one who 
should most appreciate her; but howmuchharder a tiial, a temptation, 
to be misprixed by that one Bind only too highly prized by some 
dtfacr? Eoor^i looked into the embers of the fire as she cat and 
thought; and there she seemed to see her early Australian life pass 
like a moving picture before her. She paw her youth, her hopes; ibe 
saw the grey diiwn and Morse; and the fire collapsed with a little 
crash, and Kooii^li gave an audible sob. She roused bersflf Uf^ 

'lamod of her moment of weaknesa, and she went t" " " '"* — -~" 




ad tried to look out upon the ni^ht. Suiiilealy tlie poetman's 
minded. The leltcir which wsm hntided to Koorilli bore tho Sc 
JatmiD ttamp. It vita \a tAr. Middleuiirt's handwriting, and it bod d 
l«Bp mourcin^ border. \ 

■ Who was dead? KoorMi wonderei! at fi:3t, in a dazed npathetltt 
Hf. She did not feel any Ihrill of terror. Everything Memed ttf.^ 
BtUer little now. After a few moments, she suddenly came to knotlcX 
t? a ioK of instinct, even before liho had read the liimsy lagc^v 
Ukt it was her stepmother who had died. Mr, Middlaniist wrotSf 
taloruly. For the tliird time he waa slone. The bettor and tenderer I 
Utors pf Ihe man shone out under the inSuence of grief. Kuorilll.l 
«M deeply touched. There was Eonicthiog pathetic in the appial to 3 
tiw which the letter conveyed; in tlie hiiiied remorse fur )<ast neglect. I* 
Hen was a sympathy which took fire i-eaility. Mr, Midillemitit tvg*- 
]gcsi«d that he niisht tiitd conaolatlon for his declining yenra in th* 
COmpauionebip of his only daughter and his grandHons. He wisheitf 
li were possible for them to make his horaa theirs. Hs wrote in thft 
fhll belief that Crichton, having lost his appointment, would shortly , 
ntUTD to South Britain. Ue had ht'ord nuthing i>f L'riahton's ambitious | 



EooiUi eat for a long time over the fire in the drawing-room, wlth'i 
\bB letter io her hand. A wild palpitating hope rose within her Ilkil>i 
.that whiih roiglit be felt by sorue Jttorm-tosscd seaman who fancien,; 
jthat be sees land upon the horizon. Oh, if Criclitun would but allutt , 
bar to go back ag^in to her father, ta talie her hoys to South BritAiu, 
'and bring them up there to work fur themselves, to he bravo, manly, 
^f^eliftut ! 

Kooritli told herself that she no longer craved for joy in life. Shn 
'had outgrown her time; she bad outworn her illueions. There wu' 
inottung left fijr her hut duty. Her spirits and nerves were brokea^ ' 
knd tha only asked for rest. She honestly wished to escape from alt . 
.ohance of meeiing Morse, and from that terrihly false position which ' 
mwle her home-life so difficult. She had put aside her dream of iovi^ 
,«fl one bound to the working-day world must turn perforce frora. 
viidona of an impoesihle heaven on earth. She feared for her strength! 
to bear a^ain^t the hourly fiet of her chains, Ihc constaut oppreasioi 
of that misfortune which had befullen her. She saw htrsell, ai 
went on, hardenoii, hopelcsa, qiteruloua, perhaps ungmciuus 
children, deteriorated in moral fibre. Por w.is it not inevitable tltq 
licr standard should become lowered? Must she not in time nink ■ 
Oricbton's love!, lower herself for vury peace Bake, and lose touch fl 
high and noble purpose? Could there ba any worse wrooRV 
where was the right, and where the wioog? 

Koaridi pressed her hand over her eyes. Her brain was deadened^ 
Her obligation seemed narrowed doi^n to a measure of maternal dutjS 
and beyond that there was no horizon. This crave for liberty, Io tin. 
alonv with het children, was possessing her. It consumed her like M 
She felt that she could not endure these dally hypocrisies- ' 




tie 'THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

oould not lire in conventional JnteromirBe with MnrEe and Lady 
GOnicioUB all tlie time of that iteniadiog haJr-understaiuiiQg bet 
heradf ikiid her buabaod. 

She WHS stilt silting witli her forehead bent down upon her 
when Crichton retumud. lie came in boisterously, and she ], 
grent alart nnd rose La n frightened way from hei chair m ba 
the dooF behind him and approached her. She had let her th< 
go wandering uwi»y to Mnttsbarra, to the Pilot Station, 
Btretch of Australian cooEt which she saw as diatiocily as thoc 
were looking st a picture. Criohton'a entrance wns like the r 
prcsaure of nn inoubus that hod been thrown off for a llltle 
After brwitbtng free air, she seemed a^ain stifled. 

■'Your friend Morse has ruined tha finest ohanofa n 
in his hands," Kenway exclaimed fiercely, without any prelii 
explaantioo. " He hns Bung away," he added with a furious 
" the fortunes of a whole paity. He will never re 
gone; he'd ruined — and, confound him, he has ruined 

KoorlUi drew a deep breath; but she did not at once realize 
lie meant; sbe was not seriouely discompose<1, Crichtoa Kenway,!! 
a fit of anger, was to her a tolerably fsrailiar spectacle; and his fiurf 
anger might as well be about triSefl as about serious things. The 
Ufa party or the overdoing of a steak — wliBt did it matter? 

"What has happened?" she asked. 
" "Don't play the innocent. Hasn't he told you?" 

"As I E^d before, I have not seen Mr. Morse to-day — or for many 

''But didn't he prepare you for this? Doesn't he wrile to yooT 
Oil, 1 know 1 Come, out with it. Did he not tell you ; didn't he uk 
yniir philosophical ond virtuous ndvico ? Are you not his Egeria aud 
I don't know what all ? Do you mean to tell methat you rejilly know 
nothing of all this ? By God, I doii'l beliuve you I " 

Koorlli looked at him with more serious questioning. He hail coma 
close to her, and she shrank froia him, not because of fenr so much as 
because of repugnance. Tbere was a repressed fury in Crichtoii'a eyes 
and tone which did almost frighten her, in spite of the contempt fur 
his tragic moods which experience had taught her. 

" You see, Crichton, you have not given roe a chanoo of knowing 
whether Mr. Morse did consult me or didn't," she said, in that cold 
clear voice which had the double efiect of outwardly calming and 
inwardly incensing her husband. " I have no idea of ivhat you are 
Bpenkine. Will you tell mo first ? You can l>e angry with me after — 
or disbelievfl me." 

Crichton glared at her savagely. Hut he gulped down iua wrath 
somehow, aud sat himself to explain in Bhort, curt sentences. 

" Morse has refused to form a Ministry. He gave it out last night 
at the Progressive Club. All Loiidon is talking of it. There'i not a 
doubt that we shall liave war — more aggressions are telegraphed in 
Ijapcra this evening. A Cabinet council Is called. *' ' "-->• 



^y^*!3«?^^S»^i* 



ilh Ibe spirit of R mouse but trill aland up Tur Wiir, and Uur 
lidg to his cowardly, pig-heoJed obslinacf." 
"Oh, that is all," Koorili said quietly ; but she reared her littl^ 
line with a gesture that implied oiia was on the dchinsiTe. " Ye^ 
Cri^tOD, 1 knew he would do that; lie told inc. But he alio told yoi 
tod many other people, didn't he ? I henrd him say it the vary tireT 
iXf we ever dined at Lady Betty's, He Bpiike lliun so stmoglw 
^aiaat the idea of a war that, of course, I know he would fanvi 
totbing to do with it. Ho has been deuoiinciag it, working bait" 
^Oit it ever sluce ; and he ahvays told me he did not think it 
W pocpible for any oiaa to form a Coverumcut QOir who Mt i 
" "iDrt the war." 

Scuffl Tbiai;s liadn't gone so far then. That was before tbl 
tioriB; before he had the chance of being Prime Minister. PulilUi 
1 always eiy that sort of thing uhoD they are not ia pon-er, N*"l 
expects them to keep to it when ihey get ihe chance ofofficv." 
Then did you really believe Mr. Morse was a man who cared about 
office, 01 would sacrifice bis own convictions and principles to it V For 
K roan of the world, Crichton, I don't think you read men's character 
Toy well. 1 have not spoken much to Mr. Morse lately about thii^ i 
bat of course I knew that he would nut take office, if taking ullice wi 
lean carrying on thia war," 

A man. owes something to his party," Eenway said Bulldly. 
A man owes something to his principles ond to himstif; a 
Hr. Morse is a man to pay his debts of honour of that kind," Mntwci 
Koor&li steadily, " Crichton, I am glad j yes — I am gbd — and I » 
aajr it; but I am not surprised.'' 

"Perhaps it might throw a littla damp on the Are of your joy,'^ 

Kenway loid angrily, "if you knew that your heroic frieed'a virtuouvfl 

^Oolve is the ruin of your husband." AaA Crichton sat down with^ 

a look of despair. Indeed, there was uuniistakablu sincerity in thatl 

He Eooi^i WHS toaclied and alnrmed by it. 

"Crichton, do tell me," she said, coraiDg up to him and lnyin„ 
a femdly hand upon his shoulder. " Has any fresh thing happened ; 
rod why is this yonr ruin? Our affairs are in a better state now thnn 
they were three months ago, when 1 begged you to accept the appoint- 
ment Lord Couiraont ofibred." 

EooriUi had almost become acciistonicd to hiaring of their 
-Goding that nothing in particular came of it hut that matters wei 
very much the same as before. She did not know the real d<'pth 
Crichton's embarroasments, and believed that, thanka to old Mn. 
2IcvU»-I3eBUchamp'8 lei^acy, this crisis, like others, had been tidej 
over. She did not realize either hov; rooted was Cricb ton's determiul 
tiou to carve out a career for himself in England. 

''Where atn I to get an appointmsat now? Whom have I ti 
to ? " cried Crichton, in a sort of angry wail. " 1 pinned my faith oi 
liimallogi'lher; I put all my eg^in one basket; 1 have made 
«V9T.vwhere by sticking to him; I have publicly commi!t(.'d n 




1 J_ 

11 J T//E RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

hi* |wllc>ri SDd now ho throws mo over! I have goai 

luvo lio'ii ruling money here, there, and everywhere, oi 

of hU i^ti'ig luu a pcrmnQEDt appuintmeiit ; and now where » 

U* bus thrown ma over; ruinod me; ruined mel" Kenwny jM 

Up Rsni[i| nad began pHcing wildly up and down the room. 

"Bui CrichtoQ, CnchCuu," said boonUi, her iosLinct of ff 
turned back a^n, " you surely could not expect Mr, Uorsa to a 
OD a w«r which he believes to be wicked merely to enahle him bd 
•p])ointm«uU lor his rriendit? I am very, very sorry; but I Bmfl 
I would rather starve ihsii tliiuk: of any maa mnhing such & id 
of itriiiciple." 

^ Stwa ! Oh, yott won't starve ; he won't let you starve ; JM 
b« right enough," Kenway said brutally. His words hurt KoonO 
tbo eirvikeuf a whip might have done. She Hushed for an iDstant|'S_,_ 
thru slie tinned very white ; but she was determined to keep her sdF 
conlnil, and not to give her infuriated husbandany excuse Ibrinsultu; \ 
her. Slto did not reply lor a few momenis, Whun she anawerediS 
annoyed him that she completely ignored bis remark. 

"lou have many friends, Crichton; and you have talents. 'Vou 
Oitniiot WAiit the means and opportuniiieaof making a living in a plocs 
like tiondon ; and there is always the alteruative of going back bi 
South Dritain." 

l' "Ihatmight suit you. It would only he going bsck lo whatjou 

, Epraug from. But I've bad rather too strong a dose of South Biiln'm, 

r 1 should be a happier man if I bad uevor set foot in South Britoia." 

j' Ills look, fixed on her, pointed the allusion. 

I A ]«saioiiAte entreaty rose to her lips — " Let me go back, than, to 

I what 1 spranj; from, and let us be free of each other ; " but she did not 

utlit it. She was determined to say nothing unguarded or impetuous. 

I TliD proposal which was shaping itself In her mind must bo msde 

r calmly and reasonably. Uer only cliacoe of having it accepted would 

lie, she know, in its appeal to Cricbton's self-interest. He might tbink 

it better for himself to be rid of her and ber children. Ko; ho wmdd 

never lot Lance £o. Ue might give her lliles. Would bo give ber 

Miles? CuuM she leave Lance '^ The questions and Answers halnneed 

each other in her mini, repeating themsalves over and over as"'u» *• 

that she hardly heard Crichton as he went on — 

"Make a living for myself I Voa; I daresay. I can. write for lie 
Duwspapers. 1 can do penny'D-liiiing perhaps. That isn't qiiiie the 
sort of thing I wanted. I wanted tu he a gentleman, and to be able 
lo live like one. Fancy how my confounded family will laugh when 
they hear of all this I I don't wunder, I am sure. I have Iwon 
m^ing a confoundo<l fool of myself, trusting to that raau — yes; and 
to you. Do you hear?" 

Kooriili Btarleii, recalled from that bewildering process of weighing 
possibilities. "Do you really beliere," she said coldly, "that Mr. 
' SB would have taken office if I had advised himj it I had bem- .] 
D and false enough to ailvlse him? Do you think he iB a tnaari||| 






^S^i^!^- 



k jiat into ktvling-slrin^ in ttitit way by any womnD ? I>> yat 
tbink his wife did nut urge him cDQugb to put himself od the Bide flf 
■he Court and of her class ? " 

■*A man doesn't carenlioothia wife's advice," Ken way iinid conrscljj 
" It's quite a diffareat thing about the ftJviee of another raaa'a wifa.*| 
He laughed cynically. 

"He wouldn't have taken my adricB to that efrcct," she said; 
I would not have jriven him such advice." 

There was a little ailance. She half eipectcd ihat Crichlon nouMl 
refer back to their last conversation on the eubject, in Zen's honse — ^ 
the conversation which waa burnt for ever into her memory. He bad ' 
forgotten It appitrenlly, and had taken her indignant protcsta no mean- 
ing nothing. He had gone on believing that ho could still make nee 
of her as a bait, even after that appeal to him which it had coat hor 
BO much to make. Her breast heaved with the i^ense of utter lonelincH.- 
Dot ahe held hei^lf in, and after a, moment caught at this want ofj 
oomprehenBioD of her aa a plea for supordciiil dealing. She went 
in a frozen way — 

" Xoa rather overrate Mr. Moran'a opinion of my inlalloct and t 
cttpAdty for advising statesmen, Crichton." 

" I wasn't saying anythin;; about your intellect, Eoor^li. Perhap* 
if it comes lo that, I have no mighty high opiaJon of it myiseif. 
i«n*t hj their intellest that woman govern men. Look at Lady Maud 
and Lord Paddington. She hasn't very much intellect; she hashardi, 
a (race of good looks left; she is twentv years older than you; am 
abe can turn him round her finger I By Jove, I wiah 1 knew her^ 
She would be more use to me than you are." -r 

" I wish you did know her, Crichtun ; I can be of no nse to you in 
tbo way of obtaining appointments. It might have B|«red youdiw 
appointment if you had believed mo in larucst wlien I anid thi^ bctbrN 
I ttink it ia cruel and shameful of yoa to suenk in that way." U j 
dstOTroination not to see that she was insulteo began to break down, j 

" Ton know what I me.in, perfectly well," he said. " You know 
'I don't mean anything wrong. You. know I would cut your tliront'tf 
I Uioughc you were c:ipable of anything wrong. But X don't ; litckitf 
tot you. That isn't your line. l!y Jove, you haven't feeling I'noujd 
for it, I verily believe. But there la influence which a wife, who J 
.■nytning of a decent 'pal' to her husband, may fairly use for faL 
advantagp, without giving occasion for the slightest whisper or breatif 
eC scandal. Well, you didn't use it anyhow. Alter »ll,Idan't siipiKJl 
JOB really had any infiuonco over M'orae, I auppoBe bo meant uotliii 
»U the time." Crichton laughed jecrinsly. "Afcer all, that is ir- 
likely than that the Farnesia business was a plant to get me ou 
the way. You were quite right, I did give you credit for too m 
' clavemess." 

"Mr, Morae is a gentleman, and a man of honour," Koorilli said If 
liv quietest tone. She was recovering her Belf-poawssJun. 

~^ed the man too much to feel the sting of his senseless issulte 



■'"^' 




« tni 'nfGJtt ttomiy^s£Er 



She WHa bul; nniious 
•Mr 



IT to bring this odIoL 



e to A close as auni _ 



I don't call it the part of a geatloman and a ] 
niin tho proBiiectB of the party and tbo friends who trusted to hi ^ 
amereabHurd Bcniple. No matter; otfaera niny bo ruined loo. 'i 
lilm seo whether two can't play at that gamn of ruining, I may S 
my chance of reTenge on your dear and scrupulous friend, F " 
and see if I doo't make good use of it, that's all. Your highly ei 
Morse may find out to hie cost some day that there are men w 
has injured and who can repay." 

Koorili did not at the nioment pay much sttcnlion to these ■* 
of her husband's. It did not seem possible to her that he could I 
any real purpose or means of injuring Morse. It was a commOD tl 
with him to console himself under imnginary wrong by hinting at ■ 
uud mysterious schemes of vengeance, and KoorJili had always m 
that the threatened men and women lived long. Probably Ken 
saw the meaning of her eipreasion. 

"You think 1 can do nothing," he saiii, with a fierce laugh; ' 
you wait and tee. I can bit your friend Morse where he trill fefl 
You shall BOO before long. Hind'~it is / who nra in earnest g 
You wouldn't help me, and you Khali see what I can do. Tell 
Bo if you like, when you confab with him next." 

" May I go now ? " Koorili asked. " Do you want me any m 

"You may go," he answered fiercely, "where you please, 
further the better." Then he turned to leave the room. He s 
at the door, and said, " 1 am going out agnin, and I am off by ai 
train to*morrow. If anything turns up that I ought to know, i 
one wants to see me that I ought to see, you can telegraph to nl 
the Grey Manor." 

It was curioi'B that, with all h is unmeaning wrath against her and 
his brutal inaulla, Crichton Kenway assumed and knew iierfactly well 
that ahe would look after his int«rcsta Ciithfully and obey all his 
reasonable commands. He knew that he could trust his lifo in her hands, 
even though he made her feel hour after hour the degradation of her 
bondage to him. lie had no more doubt of her absolute purity than 
hn had of her bodily existence. But he had a keen idea that she might, 
if she hitd the cralt of other women, have managed to secure something 
for bim without any saorifice of, at nil events, her pbyaical purity. 
Probably he iipoke truly enough ; probably he would Bave killed her 
if be believed or even suGpeoted that she had done wrong; but, aU the 
same, he did not see why she might not bave managed to do something 
for her husband without doing wrong to herself. In any case ho was 
now wild and furious with Morse, and he knew no better way of 
expending his fury than to pour it out on her. 

As he was going away Koorih'a voice stopped him. 

"Crichton." 

He turned again, and faced ber. She bod come forward t 
centre of the room, and stood very pale and resolute, with 1 



J 



^^^^^w^^^^skt* 



clnsped iwrvously before her, and bright dilated e 
trith a port of steely hardnees. 

" Well I " he aaked impatiently. " Whnt arp ynii looking at mo IM 
tiwl for? Have ymi ftoy thing else to say? Make liute, it ii "' 
late." 

"I shall not keep you meny miniitcB," sM. KoorUi, with 
quietness. "I have somethiog to say to you, Criohloa, which t * 
yon tu take seriously. I mean it with my wliolo heart. It is a 
— a proiMsnl. I Ibink it might relieve you from ditBoulty." 

" Well 1 " he repeated, " You are not usually fertile in auggpBtiol 
about getting me unt of my difficulties. Let me hear this ODe." 

"You said juat now that I might go away — where I rleaseJ — tli« 
Eirther the iietier. Did you really mean that, Criohton?" 



"Oh, conround it ail," said he roughly, "don't begin talkioi, 

r. I'm married to yon, I suppose, and I must support you; and 
there's an end of it." " 

"There miiy be nn end of it," she said, still with that eitrei 
quietude; "and yoii may Ijb relieved from the bimkn of aupimrtil 
me, if only yon will agree to what I ask. Will you let me go awa_ _^ 
Crichtoa, and live apart from, you? Wliy should wa keep up tliia' 
mockery of a uniou? It seems to me a most frightful and unnatural 
ihing that two people should be bound together for life who feel ax 
you and I fceL I think you must almost hato me, Cricliton, or you 
' ' lot speak to me and think of me as you do; and I have neither 
... ir reppeot Ifft now for yon. It eeoms a bird thing to say; biit 
H ia the truth. Will you let mc go away ? 1 don't want you to give 

me any raoney. I want nothing but " and she stopped suddenly, 

for she dared not add, " my children," lest before he had time to ci 
sider ihe advantages of being rid of her, he might silence her pleadi 
hy an angry refusal. 

"Be good enough to talk common eense," he exclainied. 
do you propose to do after you have gone? — worit or starve? 

" I will go beck to South Britain," she answered. 

"And when you have got hack — I suppose you have considered 
Ibat your pasiiage will have to be psid?— -do you intend to ask your 
stepmothei s permission to make n home with her? You were glad 
enough to be unt of your father's house, and ho was gljkd enough to gjt 
yon oS his handa. I shouldn't think he'd be so delighted to take you 
on sjaia." 

" My Btepmolher is dead," said KoorMl. " Just before you came in, 
Oridjton, I hnd been thinking of this— longing that I mi^tht go away. 
I have got a letter from my father"— she made a little gesture towards 
the written sheets which lav upon the hearth-rug near where she had 
been aitting- "lio tells me of hia eorrow and his loneliness, and he 
wishes that 1 might be with him agun— I and_my children." 

" Four children I " cried Crichtoo savagciyl "Are they not i 
children too ? And do you think I'm goini: to let ray boys— let Lui 

"a brought np after' the pattern of Mr. Hiddlemist?" 



i 



4 




3i6 ''THE RIGHT HONOURABLE^ 

Kuu.&Ii nervously 11 ncUsped ber bands, aail tbca laced the Gogen 
Bgaiu iiiore liglitly. Her large dark eyes, full of aoiiely and oaruagt- 
ucis, never left hi:( face; bcr heart wah throbbing ia great bimmar- 
beoti. It WHS u though her life — more than lire to her — was at Btake. 

" Criobton," she said, " let U3 speak of this matter in a gentle eplrit. 
There's no use in eajlog taunUiig thiogs. The cbildrea ate yoars ati 
well as mine. That ia the most pitiful itad tenible fact in such » 
mBiri^e as oura. You have a part right to them " 

He intemipted her, "Let me remind you," he said, " that Lance 
is just eight years old. Uiles will be seven Id a mouth or two. The 
law gives me fuU right." 

"& there a mother in England who \vou1d acknowlci^e it?" erred 
Koor41i pntsiooately. " What is your right compared witli minei! 
1 bore them — I love them. They are nil the world to me, and they 
love me — my poor little boya!" Koorlli's voice broke. After a 
moment she went on more steadily. " I don't want to lie unfair, 
Crichtou, or to dieputo that you have a rjgbt; but you don't cure 
about the cbildrea as I do. Tbey are only vkythings in you — hardly 
lliat, for you are often impatient even with Lance, though 1 know you 
are fond of lum." 

She waited aa if for him to speak, but he ki-'pt a Bnllen silence. 

" Haven't you anything to say to me about our livini; apart, 
Crichlon?" she asked tremulously. "Sorely that would please you 
better than the niiserable life we lead now 1 Indeed, I do uut think I 
couM live it for much longer ; it mmuM kill n:e." 

She waited once more. "Go on," he said again, "I wont to hear 
all that you have got to say." 

" Think of it, Cricbton," she went on, her voice gfunins intenaity, 
" Ihiulc of what it has come to after nil these years — that I long— that 
I pray to ha released from yon. Doesn't that speak for itsell? It 
doesn't matter whose lault it is, or why it is. That's enough. We 
weren't suited to each other, and now wu are hopelessly divided in 
heart and suul. Tm not excusing myself, Ciichton, or putting all ttie 
blame on you. I tbink a dificreut sort of woman might have been 
happier with you; but tliore'a the fact, and it's best that we ahouM 
part- Don't let us quarrel, Crlchtou. Let me go in peace." 

"Look hero," exclaitnei! Crioh toil furiously. " There's no use talking 
in this way, I'll not consent to any scandal in my family; we are 
not used to it. If you go, it's on your own responsibility ; and you 
don't come back again. Mind one thiog," he added, coming aios< ' '^^ 
her, " if yon do go, you don't take the children. I hold to that. 
don't take the chUdrun." 

"Can you bo BO cruel, so pifilesa?" 

" Don't you know me even yet ? You shall see," 

" Do you think you are the njao to bring up children well ; to teach 
my boys how to be men of honour — and gentlemen," exclaimed Koorftlj 
-desperately. 

"What do you know about gentltmeu? There weren't any geatlf) 



and yo^^ 



men io your fftmily, were Ihere ? I tiever tttarJ it iiiBiiiitnt<-d tlmt d 
Middle mixt was a grnileitiao." 

"Wilt you let me lake my boys, Cricliton, my evitfl little lunoc 
buyR, who love mc? You don't cars oboiit item; yciu don't i 
about children. Uii«s is so drlicato, and Lance is very young k 
nod yuu want to get your aflaire straight and Co live in Loudon. ' 
would be glad — eurvly you would be gU) not to have the tcoubl» j 
Uiem. — ana of mo. Oh, Cricliton, if I might keep tbero, say — f<ir e*1 
three years, and then I would bo reasonable. I wuuld not aik I 
DKirti than was just. They would go to school, and wo might ngrra q 
■bare them. Ihoy might come to me at one time, and go to yi 
aiiOthori or you might let me have Miles altogether — oh, Crichlo 

She broke down now. The tears ware guabing froni her I'yus. 
Kenway was glad. Ha btUevcd that he lind ounqnercd. 

"XouVe bail my answer. It's no! Nothing will alter tae. I'll 
IraTsyou now to think things over," he said. "Vou know the c 
ditions exactly. Go if you like, and when you like; but when J 
cloM the door of my house behind you, you have no mora to do wic| 
my children — you shall never see thcra again." 

He went out of the room, aud shut the door behind him wi 
Perhaps be was making the sound a sort of suggfsiion to her of ti 
crash that would cume upon her life and her affuctious wbea tlie d 
j^)iia baaee should close bohiod her. 



P 

Pabua 



OHArTEK XSVIII. 



There » 



>ABUA»F.NT waa callL-d together for a winter e< 
troubles in the air ; the fiiirue breath nf a coming M 
Ministry had perforce W remain in office, as Morse would not ci 
»Dd just then no one else could. But they could not venture to get 6) 
witbout calling rarliament together aud obtaining Its authority. Tha 
peai question waa that of war nr peace. At first, the only loud outcry 
waa (br war. Numbers of Brglisnmen everywhere ware flick of being 
told that Kngland could not fight any mure, eicept with unarmed 
savages; and they would iiave welcomed a war with any groat po\vor, 
for any purpose, or for no purpose. The Ministry in possesion felt 
tiiBt nothing would atrengtben their position so mucli as a popular 
war, and at first it eeoraed as if lb.ia war would be altog(!ther popuWi 
but, after a wblla, an aoti-war jarty began to make its exiate*'^ 
known, aud it grew mora and more powerful every day. Perhnpsfl 
Ministry began to wish now that, they had not colled I'arllatttr 
together that winter, but bad aotad boldly for ihoniBelvea ; lind « 
into the wa.r at oaco and asked for the cunaeut of Purliamont MW^ 
wards. In no case liad they any doubt of a great parllar 
Quyority fur a war policy ; but they feared tha atirriiig-up of a 




338 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

reeling, uid tbe posaibilitj' of inconronient pop-ilur demons I ration* on 
ritber eide in the iilrge towns, and perhaps consequent diBturliiiuce. 
Uowerer, tLe thing mas docB nonr aoil could not be undone. Parlia- 
ment WM called ti^clber and everybody came back to town, and a 
winter seoBon set in with tbo winter Hesabn. Wives and daugbtcn in 
^nenil liked it. 

It was s tumuliuouB time. Public passion was fierce on both stdei. 
The advocates of war wore clamorous, and denounced all who opposed 
them 83 traitors, enemies to tbetr coimtry, and craven slaves of the 
foreigDor, On the other hand, the oppUQcnts of the war had on theu- 
ude the vast majority of the worting-mon almost everywliere. The 
prospect of work and wages for the winter was bad, and the artinn 
population were wild at the thought of the country's money being 
squandered at such a time in what they believed to he an idle and 
wicked war. It got reported, nobody knew why, lliat tlie Court 
favoured the war, and were pressing Ministers on to throw down the 
gauntlet at once, and this further stimulated passion on both sides. 
Every evening groat crowds gathered around the [louse of Commons 
cheering this or that member, according as be favoured their notions, 
and grosning at others. A hirge cumlier of the atreet-loungiug class 
were in favour of the wnr; go were nearly all the smaller shopkeepers , 
and in all sections of Loudon life there is a good deal of sympathy 
with Mhat its enemies call the "Jingo" feeling. Therefore the crowd 
round the Houses of Parliament was usualij pretty well divided in 
strength, and the conspicnoua member who gut clieere>i by one set was 
sure to get groaned at by another. It was found necessary sometimes 
to close nU (he great patea, and Pakce Tard wns literally garrisooed 
by police. Every evening it waa cspeuted that the Ministrj' would 
announce the withdrawal of our ambassador aod the dedariition of 
war. The tension on both sides waa unexampled in its severity. 
London seemed to hold its breath. 

Morse was always greeted with a peculiarly imjnssioned demon- 
slration from both sides. If a spectator standing on the far edge of a 
crowd, the eastern verge of it, were to hear a tremendous burst of 
cheering again and again reiiewed, and suddenly broken in upon and 
divided by a very tlmoderBtorm of groans, hisses, and ferocious yells 
of bate, be might take it for granted that Sandham Morse was maMng 
bis way iQto the House. Murso had been addressiag meeting after 
meeting in X/>ndon and in the provinces to condemn ssd denouQce 
the war policy. He had fiung himself into the anti-war movemeat 
with characteristic energy, and nothing but the popular force which 
he brought together, organized, and concentrated, prevented the 
Ministry from yielding to the clunonr of the other side and declaring 
war at once. Morse was accepted by every one as the head and 6 
of the anti-war party, which the working populations of all the g 
towns regarded as tb^ ovm party. 

Uastcrson was very active with his democrats ; but Morse kept td 
from any close association with that part of the t^itation. We h 



^SS^SS' 



^sssMSr. 






already kIio^^tii that he did not much bclievs in cosmoiioli 

tinas. Ilo did Dot care mucli about tLe " aolidarity of uatioDB " 

other such phrases ; ha did not caro about fina phrases in gcnoral. He 
did not see bow, as thioga aow Btaiid, there could bo any real unit^ of 
feeling and aim between continental democracy and ibe democracy of 
tbia country. But be had an especial reason for holding himself njiart 
from Mastcraon's people, lie bad n. strong suspicion conceroing 
of the foreiga eonf^rates. Those of them who belonced 
country with which Engtiind was 5n all probability actually goioj 
war aeemed to him especially undesirable associates. He did not 
the men peritonally; hs did not trust thom; he warned Master 
agunat Ihem fpeatedly and emphatically. Even if they were perfi 
honeat, be did not tiiink their presence becomiog ia an English ir 
ing, " We don't understand fellows actin;r ngainat tht^ir own ooiiD 
our people can't mnke it out," be told Mastorson. Masteraon csloll . __ 
the nobie love of humanity which set moo above paltry considerations 
of nationality, and made them the brothers of all other men the world 
over, and blaotly told Uorse that he was spoiled and made Darruir ami 
distrustful by the mean life of the House of Commous. Then Mor^o 
lold Maslerson, and wrote it to him several times, in order, if possible, 
to impress him tlie more, tbnt be did nut trust the men themselves ; 
that be believed tbey were nothing mure or less than spies for sumu 
sinister purpose. 

A great meeting was to take place in Hyde Park, from which a 
monster procession was to march to I'litace Yard, and Morse at first 
was consenting to be present at tlie nieetiri;' ; but he found that these 
very men were to be prominent in it, and Masterson would not give 
them up; and Morse tberi^fore wrote to say be would not go, acd told 
Maatersoii his reasons. Then MaaterEOU grew cold towards Morse, and 
talked sadly and with many shakings of tba bead about tlie corrupting 
Influence of Parliament and the West End upon even the Quest 
characters; and it was plain tliat he regarded Morse 
gone wrong." 

"Her Majesty the Qaecn has been pleased to confer on Mr, OrichL 
Kenway, late Asent-Geneml for South Britain, tba appointment^ 
Governor of the Famesia Islands." 

So ran the paragraph in one of the morning papore, by which the 
defeat of Cricbton Ken way's dearest hopes was announced to the world 
in general. A paragraph in a social weekly enlarged somewhat on tlio 
information, g.ivo pnrticulara of Kenway'a career, praised bis abiliLios 
and qualification lor a cobclal governorship, touched enthualastically 
upon the ciiarms of bis wife, and deplored the removal of so bright a 
star from the firmament of London society. Another paragraph, how- 
ever, iu a paper the pens oF wlioso wiiters were tipped with gall, 
quoalioued the superior claim of Mr. Cricliton Kenwey to be provi 
fiM at the country's espense, and offered dark auggoations as to 
motive for thb appointment un the part of an almost moribund Oon 



i 




.and I 



J30 '•THE RIGHT HONOURAB/JE." 

inenl, sniiposcd to b&ve now no prmleges beyanil the creation 
batdb of (MCIB. The wiiter intim&Ced ihitt the appointment wna 
to tlie private iatervrntion of a ceitaio craitieDt Radical stateBtnan, . 
iiinted that, tlioiigh the statesman rvferred to waa doubtltss actunt*^ 
bj the ntoat comnicu^ble unselSabneas, he would feel ihe low of aa 
Egeria nbosa repuUicao eenliuieata hajuiooked to eniiretj with bit 
own politicnl vicn'a. 

Lndf Betty read thia pftragraph in the little interval of quiet between 
the departure of her afternoon visitors and dressing lime. iOor the 
moment it did not strike her that ber husband nns the slatesman ia 
queition. When it did dawn upon ber, she giive n litlie cry, hull 
amuBed, hnlF vexed, and ^limced at Morse, who waa standing with bis 
tack agnirtst tha chimney-i>iece, and with the troubled eipresaion 
which had become nuir so habitmil on his face. He looked down tt 
her in surprise. 

"What ia it, Betty? Are the Jingoes still raging furiously agiiwt 
me? What is itae last accuxation? That I am in league with Ilia 
dynftmiten ? or that I nm plotting the surrender or our Indian empire? 
I know that it all hurts you, child ; but you are silly to mind it." 

Lady Belly'B lip trembkd, and she cxcl^med with a sort of childlike 
bnrst of fedin" — 

"How can I help minding it, Sandbam? How can I help being 
raftiio unhappy by these horrible reports ? For you won't take them — 
or me — seriously. You only laugh in that hard cynical way ; and you 
won't BUihorute me to contradict them, even to my own lather — or the 
Princess 1" 

A gloim shot frmn Morse'a eyes, and his face hardened eb it had a 
way of duin; when he was mov^ and yet determiue'l not to bre.ik his 
sell-restrdnt. He answered in a level tone — 

"At any rate, eionerato yourself from complicity, Betty. Assur* 
your father — and tha PrinceBS, or as many priucessea as you plensf — 
that you ore quite in the dark, and that I have refused to ftiitborize 
even my own wife to contradict these reports." 

Lady Betty loLiked at him doubtfully, and then straighteued herself 
with a little air of dignity. 

"Ah, now you are angry with mo, Ssndham; and, indeed, you Kre 
not just. Isn't it natural that I ahuuld wish to take my husband's 
part when all the world is abusing him? Isn't it natural that 1 should 
want the Boya! Family, who have always been so nice to me, to tJunk 
aa wi^ll of you as they can, and as little seriously as possible of the 
drcvdful republican speeches you make, and of your opposition to thelt 
wishes and ideas about what is beet for England ? Surely I'm not to 
be blamed for trying to smooth things over with my father? He ii 
sucli a strong Tory and Itoyallst, don't you know, and he is bitter 
against you, Sflndbaui, and ready to believe anything? Tou don't 
undoTBtand my position," Lady Betty went ou, more plaintively. 
"You don't see how hard it is for me. You don't know how I fe^- 
going out this evening without you to meet tho Prinre and Ptini 



] 



5W 



And then ta know thnt it is liecaiLse you haTO made yourself ■ 
QOpOpular, {Lud thftt people dnn't like to hnve you at ihc'it dinaflfl 
pftrtiea becauee your being there migUt oaaso aniburiuameat or even 
ill teaXing, I duo't think you try to realize, SaniihaiiL, haxr terrible h 
all is for Rie I " 

Morse smiled grimly, and yet bis heart meltod towards his wife — 
poor tropical flower, wluch was so sweet, fragrant, and briliiiint in IL 
■onahtne of prosperity, but which coald not lultl up ila head beforfti 
wintry blast. 

head Germ ilion was givingadinaer-party to-night, at which Bo; 
wsa to be entcrtnined. Laily Betty had been atkcd (o preside; 
Horse hnd received a liint tliat in Lho proseot Htnte of political feeUi 
when the relations between parties were so strained, his company mif 
be distastefol lo ihe illustrious gncats. Morse Lad accepted the ii 
motion with dignity, and tha subject had not been dincussed betwi 
bis wife and hiratielf, but there was bitiorocss in his hcarL 

" I'm sorry for yon, Botty," be said, "sorry for your salie that y 
position to-night may not ba as pli'nsant an when you entprtained your 
Kcyal friends in tlos house, not sO' many months a^o. There wm i 
illflnw live, dear, however, which did not t-oura to occur toyou— «( 
rm almost g;lad it did nou" 

• What was that, Sandham 7 Bsfusing to go myself? Yea, 
OotUK, I thought of that ; but it would never have done. The I'rill 

and Princess might have fancied Aud, Uieo, we owe a great d( . 

to my father, Sandham. He was very, very much annoyed vihea I 
mode the su^estiun. You see, I take my placo there rather rb his 

danghter thnn Ho ihought that even from the tsolionl point of 

view it would be a mistake. You know, Saudbaiu, I have always 
relied very mucli on my father's judgmeat." 

"Anyhow, the point needn't be discussed," said Morse a little 
impatiently. "I'm glad on the whole that you followed your own 
iDStinotB, Betty. And ao it's settled ; and if the Royalties avk you 
whether it is true that 1 am plotting to overthroiv tbem and to ruin 
Englnnd, you can only sny that you did your best to Hnd out, and 
that I wouldn't nulhoriKB you to contradict the statement." There 
was a little silt-nce. Then he said, "But you haven't told me yot 
what ' Fashion ' is sayiog about nic," 

hOiiy Betty's eyes were still fixed upon her husband wilb u woiidur- 
iug, pathetic expression. She was thinkiug to htraelf that he was 
bard to understand, and she recalled a warning given to her at the 
time of her marriage by an elderly relative, since dead, that in reality 
a gulf hiy between Morsa and her. Then love iiad seemed to bri<lj;(i 
the gulf completely, and she had laughed at the wamiog. Now it 
came back to her with a pang of pnssiomite regret and eclf-pityi °'- - 
keew tlwt the bridge had given way, nnd that the gulf was 
rtoorLady Betty felt that of late everything had gone wrong, and 
could not rightly tell how or why. It was unrcaioaable to think ' 
m men dificrenoe in political opinion could hol>l apart so icily 



1 



337 ■ ''TftB sfsffT'ir^^&miJf^s:* 

hearU which truly loTod each olier. Lady Betty was 
of deep intuilloo, mid »he was not gisen to analysis ; but it c*me oion 
her now that somcthiDg subtler ami stronger than politica lay at tha 
root of their altitude towards each other. Six yearn ago they wouM 
h»ve forgoltcn all their dlffurenoes in an emtraca. They would ba.n 
talked over, hand in hand, ncy Buch question aB that of Morw'a 
preBODce or ahstDCO at ona of Lord Germilion's coreKLojijou5 eolortain- 
meuta. It had not occurred to Lady Betty before that there b*d 
grown up a sort of formality even iu their ecdcarnienta. It all came 
into her mind now, and filled her with va^uo drcaJ, mingled witti 
uneasiness and faint reaentoiont. She felt like a frighteaed child to 
a dark room, and she was aogry at having bcca brought and left 
there- What did it mean? Was he tired of her? Had she disap 
pointed him? How could that be ? Did not people in high places— 
those among whom she had been trained in the duties of her etation— 
compliment herupon her social eclecticism, her tact, her fikill in bringing 
together the roombers of different parties? Had she not cultirated 
these qunli ties with the airn of furthering her husband's iiiteresta? 
Had she ever been other than sweet and gentle? Lady Betty could 
not reproach herselt She had a half-impulse to risa and go to him, 
and, k-aniog her head against him, ask him in the old cart^ssing tone 
why he spoke so coldly and treated her with so liltlo confidence. But 
pride Iield her tnck. With all her sweetness she was Tery^M-oud. 
Hpfb was the pride of race, not that larger, nobler kind, which cannot 
ascribe a small motive, bnd which givus the full trust it demands. 
Then she saw with ft swift jealous pang that he was not conscious she 
was looking at him. He was not thinking of her. His eyes were on 
the ground, and be seemed in a reverie. She made a little petulant 
gesture, and sank hack in her chair. He looked up. 

"Well, dear, what about my latest calumniiitor? What has he to 
fifty — or ahe?" 

" It is only a paragraph about Mr. Kenwaj's appointment," wi 
Lady Betty, hurriedly turning away her eyes again ; " and there is an 
allusion to you in it— I suppose, Sandbara, it is you they mean? You 
are the eminent Eadicnl slates man— and Mrs. Konway is your Egeria. 
1 didn't think " 

Lady Betty stopped suddenly, an'! her hand faltered as she held out 
the paper towards her kushoni Boraething struck her like the blow 
of a knife, and there passed through her a thrill of pain and aogor. 
Wbh this the raeaniog of what ha.d troubled her ? 

Ho bent lagerly forward to take the paper, and she saw a, change 
come over his face which hod seemed so hard and indifferent before. 
The charge was but momentary ; it might he likeni'd to the play of 
lightning on o rook, Jn an instant the muscles of the mouth werp 
tightened again, and the features once more set and resolute. Bu* -'•- 
had seen them quiver; she had seen the gleam of some sudden inl 
feeling in his eyes. 

Lady Betty sat molionkss while he read the ptiragraplu Ht 



I 



i 






TO3? WTffTSJt ssss/oflr:- 



jttfl impcr down i^ain wit)iont a word. He knew thtl he bad betiay( 
[btmeelf. loiiy Betty's pride stood lict in evil stcnd tliea. Hu m»L 
m little movemeDt towards her ; but she rose from her chuir, U 
'tamed nwsy. Ucr face had hardened loo ; il. was white and col 
I Slie would not look at him. A rush of the keenest Belf-reproivch, 
I kumilialioD, AlmoEt of agon;, flooded hin heart. 
I *' Betty ! " he eiclaimed. 

But for h!a nnhappy Een^tiveneas, which Beeraed to till him Ihi 
abe nould be ice inliiB aruiB, he would have taken her to him. It 
the curse of such natures that in a monient of crisis some mere croi 
current of emotion may turn the whole tide of feeling, and the rush 
aympathj hecomee as impossible as if it were checked by a dam 
granite. Motse could not go lo hia wife and kiss her doubts awa] 
j Argimieat upon them, she would, h« fctt ccrtnin, consider an losul 
He understood ber pride. Be knew that her manner of showing hii 
I th»t she doubted would be lo ignore the cause of her doubts. To hni 
I it admitted that she — Lady Betty — bad reason fur jealousy would ' 
• cruel stab. In that half-world of feeliog, where thought and impuli 
' are obatacles aj real as any in the material world, Morse felt like a gis 
bliadfolded and bound. He had in. him the strentftb to clear a wi 
but he did not know where to turn, and could not lift bis baods. 
bad a passionate longing to break free from reatraints, to pluck awtn 
masks, and to face the situation ; to stand bia trial — the conTentiout 
bere, tlie natural there, with cold, stem, paeaionless duty for thi 
ampiTfl, With all the sense of hopelessness, revolt, and impatienoo 
of sbams, be had no desire lo shirk his ohligationa. He felt nothinK 
but tendernesa atid pity for hia wife, intense sorrow for the divisiol 
I between thero, remorse for the share, however alight and soon repented; 
I he bad had in its cause. 

I It was a strsuge moment, in which nothing was said or could b^ 
I said, but in whlcli so much was umdcrstood. Presonlly Lady Betty, 
turned to him, her eyea not meetiog his, and said in a studiously c(^ 
I tnecbanical way— 

I ■■ When do the Kenways leave Loudoo, Sandham? I must call ol 
I Mrs. Ken way and bid her good-bye." 

I '* I think it wiil be soon," be answered, in something of the aai 
maimer. There was another short sileuce, exquiaiti^ly tmioful. Thai 
I he said. " You are always kind, Betty j and you have been very gooi 
' b> her." 

' " I wanted to make things nice for her," said poor Lady Betty. ' 
' don't know quite where Fnmesia m" she added, in a cold voice a; 
with a sort of simulated interest; "and I sufpoaa one ought toccndi 
! wirb Mrs. Kenway on having to le&vo Eogland; but all those plu 
, liBve hot climates, and abe was brought up in the tropica — isn't i 
, and must feel the cold, so I don't sappoae she will mind the change _ 
moob— as I should. It's getting late, Sandham, I must go and dressj 
She went towards tho door. He opened it for her, and she --•— 
[ thnrngh without looking at liim. 



tB. 



■ Ttwp 
W Itnl Cri 

ftccciitlni 



"T//E RIGHT HONOURABLE? 



pamgnph iru right. It mia throngh Ucn'se'B i db( rnmenliUlf Jl 
itnl Criclitm KeDwty had Bgnin been allowed the opportuDtt; of 
ftCMJiting f.r refusing lli« Famesia appoblmcnt. GJo vera oral iip» me 
not thin gH to go begging, and so Lorn ('oulmont had feir, Butlh« 
Uinistcrs were not averse lo gratifying the wishes of ait npponentliy 
whose grace they remaineil in power. Tliere ia laiicK revolving ot 
wlieola HDd pulling of etringa oven in minor politioal affairs. 

After he had dofinilrjy aunoonced hia datprmmAtioD not t 
form a UlniElry, Mome saw Crichton at his club, and told him' thai, 
though a post in the Colonial Office was out of the quealion, the ebanM 
of going to Fameaia was atiU open to him. Crichton dissembled hrs 
mgf, but his manner gave Uorse a new ini'ight into the cau^e of poor 
Koor&li's unbappiocss. Morse detected the false note in Cnditen^i 
ftomewbat effusive expressioiiB. The savage gleam in his eye could not 
be hidden ; and the man's whole demeanour made Morse think of 
a Syrian jackal he bnd once seen ebahing with suppressed fury, but 
not daring to show his fangs. It gave Morse an uneasy fading. For 
(he moment be regretted the turn events had taken. Ob, that it had 
boen possible for him to remain Eoorilli'a friend— to watoh over her 
welfare in England 1 He cut abort an arlful digression of Kenway'a 
which bad for its object the gainiag of some political information, 

" We Khali know nothing till tlie House meela. In the m 

you'll tbiiifc over this Buggestion and dedde by to-morrow, ^ 

own Interest I should advise you to try Farnesio ; it may lead to b( 
thing better by-and-by." 

He was Tnoviiig off, anxious to close a distasteful conversa^ 
but Kenway detained him. My answer mi^ht be given i 
Marie, but perhaps I'd better talk it over with my wife. Anyhow 
you have my thanks — and my graiitudo, I don't pretend that 1 
shouldn't have prtferreil something else to FarnesiA, but one c ant ' 
always have what ho prefers. Isn't it so t " 

Kenway's malign furtive gaEo dropped before Morse's quick gitj 

" Yea. Life is a question of compromise. Good-bye,'' 

" Yon are almost a stranger to ua uow," exclaimed Keuway, ' 
is that ? KoorMi bade me aak wLat we have done that you so U 
come near ns." ' ■ 

Horse knew well that Koor&li had sent no sucb niessage. A ilM 
inf* feeling of disgust rose within him. 

" The elections are my excuse," be said, " Please make my gj 
jicB to Mrs. Kenway. I shall do myself the pleasure of calling h 
long." He turned awny, with a somewhat ceremonioua gestur 
leave-taking. 

" Damn him!" mutlered Kenway below his breath, 

Morse did not call at the hoa=e yet, nor did he write to Kod 
about the imx>endiiig change in bar life. She was not consulted 
her husband tither. His intinncr to her since Ihe soene in whioU 
bad begged for freedom had been grulf, distaut, almost unbettri 
He seemed to wlah that she should understand once for all that b«1| 



Kenway'a 

itioQ, ■ 

„^ 

versaHB^fl 
now. Mr. ■' 



fss mmm msm. 



inaster. 8I18 knew nothing of the affair till ha told hoi', in no v 

ftgrt<).-ablQ tDanner, that he !)ad decidcil to i^o to FHTneijia, and that tl 

would anil shortly aruir the meeting of rarliamvnt. Bbo luadc aa p 

■ it. Was it not what she heraelf ha'i urged ? 

6be read the paragraph which hrtd caught Lnrly Botty's ottonlioil 

and her checks burned and ber heart thaibhed with pnin. It wa 

time that she went away. 

The date was fixed now. Crichlon was busy with hia mransreir 

The Qrey M.inor was let, nad soon the London house would \ . _ 
■Jbo. In the meantime, Cnchton was takiog advanlnge of his oppq 
tonitiea to get as much hunting as he could, and, with n view to hi 

I distant future, ccnieatiug his iotereata in Lyiidrordahirs. 

Koor&li lemalDcd in London. She fott dreary and tolibiry. He 
tBOoraing exempted her from gaiety. She refused inritatious. I 
seemed aa if the star of the ooct-brilliaat Mrs. Cricbton Keoway ha 
Hink txlow the horizon. She never saw Morse, It struck her HOma> 
times as strange that Lady Betty did not ask ber to luncfaoon or diuQH 
as of oU. Then slie remembered the cloudy political proepcclB, ktu 
Lady Beity's uneajiincss and alarm and honor of ropublicon teodefr^ 
des. Perhaps she waa not giving luncheon and dinner parties noirj 
Kooriili could not help wondering, however, wbothor there could be 
other CRiii^e for thia cesaatioii of intercourEe. 

One bright hour in Koor^li'a life about this time was scored by hi 
lirft to the house of Lord Forrest. The eilreroe of Lord Porrest'i 
conceiBion to the principle of social intercourse was his itiTitatioii 
CDS or two ladicH to luncheon, and ho sent through his son such 
Inritation to EoorlLli, Lord Ardcn called for her and brought her 
his fnther's house. There waa at first eometbing scliartderha/t 
Kooiili's mind in the aspect of th« large luncly house. It looked 
the palace of Princ« Brelftii, in the Irish story, might have luiiln.- 
wbea the false and fair princess had deserted her hume. But tbi 
' sweet alid eraciouscourtcsy of the occupant soon dispelled this gloouv 
. feeling Only three sat to luncheon — Eoor^Ii, Lord Forrest, aa 
Arden. Lord Forrest had to Koorili a patting and soothing niaunl 
He 8e«roed lo be in symathy with her — she could not quitis undsrgtai 
bow or why. His voice had a caressing teadomeea about it, as if' 
waa of opiuion that she was somehow miiprizcJ, and that he wao' 
to try to make up lo her for it. His manner breathed the spirit of 
lioe 10 &>ethe'a immortal ballad : " Waa hat nmu dir, du nrmes ki 
fteiban ? " V What have they done to you, you prar child V " U 
Utve they wronged you who ought to caro for you r It was, perbajf 
O^ly Kooiili's own sonsitive and excited fauoy which made her p 
this sort ol inlerpretatioa on the ehivalroua courleay of an old m 
1 who would have been courteoua and ohlvalrlc to a milkmaid; but s.. 

' oonld not help believing that hia way of receiving her and welcoiniaj 
her bcE[ioke something of a special sympalby. In her present mooi 
she waa BO much touched by it that she could hardly keep the teai 
,&om onining into her eyes now and then. Sfio was always atovei 



236 •^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

more \>j kiDdn(?sa thnn by unkindneBi. Unkiiulaeiu froze hn; 
toudi <ii sjmpatliy' nione diesolred ths congealed ematioQB of b? r t 

Lord Forrest showed h«r hia pictures, hU curiosities, his abi 
fAmiiy relici. There waa sometluDg noodiausly fHECinaling to Iht 
Aiutrnlittn wunmn in the unbroken connection of tlia past aud the pre- 
HtsDt which these family relics preoerved and illustrated. One must I* 
bom of a new country iu order quite to uaderstaad the feeling. Tbe 
■word that had atricliea at Agincourt ; the crucifix that had been 
pressed to the dying lipe of nu ancestral Crusader on the plaini vl 
Bharon; the mailed glova that had rusted on Boaworth Field; tlie 
horse-pistol which had been last diacharged at Naseby ; the plumt 
that bad been drenched ia ihe bluod and mire of Cullodea — such 
embodied memories as these made KoorMi's pulses tingle, Itepubllctn 
and democrat as she was she could not but see that there b a ronmii- 
tic, a picturesqno, a poetic sido to the theory of an aristocracy and hd 
ancestry; and that what our forefathers have done for ua we may, 
despite of Ovid's Ulysaea, sometimes call our own. 

"This is a great couutry," aha suddenly said, with an involuntary 
burst of emotion ; " one must see that." 

"It was a great country," Lord Forrest said, "when it was a 
country with a principle." 

"There are Englishmen with a principle now," Koorlli begnn in an 
excit«il way ; and then she suddenly stopped. She thought she saw 
Lord Arden's eyes turn quietly on hor, 

" Heaven forbid that I should aay no," Lord Forrest nnswereJ. 
" But they do not, such men, usually seek public life; or, if they do, 
they soon End that it does not understand ^cm. But, my dear Mrs. 
Esn way, I don't mean to fatigue you with our politics here; I want 
you to tell me something about your Auatralinn colonies. Are your 
people really going in for dividing South Britain ? " 

Then he began to talk about Australia, and Koorili was surpri«c(! 
at the &esbiiesa and accuracy of his information. He tol I her that in 
hhi youth, when he had some thought of becoming a practical poli- 
tician, he had had a conviction ibat an English statesman ought to 
moke himself acquainted with the real condition of all Engbnd's 
colonies and dependt'Dcics, and tliat for that reason he hnd travelled 
through India, Canada, Australia, and all the colontu! tenitories of 
Great Britain, and that he had tried to keep up his acquaintance with 

"But it hna been of little use tome," he said, with a. melancholy 
imile; "and of no use irhatcver to any one else. Mine, I am afraid, 
has not been a very useful career." 

" I think it a pity," Koorili said impulsively, 
been a great man." And then she blushed and thought she waqj 
comin" far too effusive, 

"Why do you say that?" Lcird Forrest asked. "You luiT 
reason to form so good an opininn of my cajiacity. Who lold yon 

Koor&li could not resist the kindly inipuriousnass of his tou«. 



sht hwft'il 
wa4^B| 

1 



i child rnight Imve done. " Mr. Murse told 
might hava had a great oarenr," 

"Ah I" Lord Forrest aaid. "That waa kind of him. I Value 
good opinion. I Eidmire Mr. Morsa." 

" So do I," Koorili eaiA fervently. 

"We represent the two utter ontromea of political fnith," 

Potrest weot on; "but I respect lis cQnvicliona, his Bincority, ., 

his cspacity. Only I think he undofvatuos the strength of the forue* 
against which he has to Btrugglo. Uo is about as mui'h too far in 
admnce as 1 am, the; tell me, too far behind. He will be wrecked 
a day ; but, then, ho ia young — ^in my sooBe quite young — md he 
Bwim ashore and Jive to try the sea again; and, if he is jiku othw^ 
politicians, he can leam how to trim his ^ils and so catch the boaef 
o( every pa3:!<iag breeze from whatevef qnitrter it may blow." 

"Mr. Moras ia not like other politicians," EoorJlli protest^ wll 

" You think not ? Well, so do L Therefore he will be wrecliod." 

"A man must steer a certain course sometimes," Eoorali said, 
'even though he runs the chance of being wrecked. He must sleer 
M save a sinking Ehip, whatever thti risk to hioiself." 

Lord Forrest looked ai her with kindly eyes, " You have put your 
iUuatration well," be said. Then fae changed the subject, nnd aboived 
hu' some volumes of letters written, by certain of his great ance:<toia, 

An hour or two passed pleasantly away. Lord Ardeu did not talk 
vuch. He left his father and Eoor&li to do the talking between them. 
He wanttd to bring them togetlier; he knew if (hoy were brought 
tog;ether his father would be attracted by Soorlli, and he was looking 
"". for a time when the protecting prcsoiioa of suob a man Dii"ht he 

some service to the wife of Cricliton Kenway. He woa well 
tented with ibe apparent results of his kindly eiperiment, 
Porrvst pi^itively Insisted tbat Koorili must come again. 

The old man came down the stairs and out iato the boll with htK^ 
^Vheu she was tiayiiig good-bye, he took her band in his. "' 

" la the old days," hu Bald, " a gentleman — when there were gcntlo- 
uen in England — took leave of a fair guest after this fashion." I4p 
Tftised lier Land to his lips and his -white moustache brushed her glc 
ever bo lightly. Then ne bade hor good-bye ; aod she got into ' 
caniage. Aniea openod the carriage door for her, and closed it wl 
she waa in. 

"How do you like my rather?" he asked, as he leaned 
riags window. _ 

•*0h, of course, 1 like idm 1 I revere him," she said impetuouslr. 
" Bat th.-il'a nothing ; every one must feel like that for him. But I do 
hopo, oh, 1 dn so hope, that he likoa me," 

likes you," Arden said. "You have a friend in hira if 



he 



t he 
soa-« 

.01^ 

h«J 

itlo- 
He 

4 



^ou wnnl one. 1 know my father." 
kr - •■■ 



Cknow you both," Kooiili lliought as she drove 
eyes were wet. 



eve awaj-, and hwfl 



ijH '^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE^* 



CHAPTER XXIS. 

"TBI! INSKi'ABABLS SXOH Y'lV. HER." 

EvBBT one was Ulkiog of the expeclod wnr; wondering wben it his 
to break out. Many wore imiiatieot because every now ami tliea il 
•eemeil to hnii^ tire. Women in drawing-rooms cbattei) of it viih 
light heart, and wished it would begin at once, in order thai the; 
migbt be amuBed. Tfaere much talk, too, of tbe coming popalu 
demon si ratiou ; of tlie meoting in Hyde Park and tho procession lo 
Palace Ynrd. Man; elderly mon in the clubs were of opinion that tb« 
only way to deal with tbe whole aflair waa to plant a few cannon 
Homewhore oa tlie line of tbe procession and sweep tbe wbule rascally 
crew ftivay. " Put them down, sir 1 put them down ! " That was ths 
only ]H)licy. Men in tbe cluba were furious against Morse tor th« 
encouragement ho waa giving to these uawa^bed scoundrels, sirl i 
"That's wliat cornea of your colonial republicanism, by JoTel" | 

One day, to KooriLli's surprise, Lady Betty cnmo tu call upon her. 
KoorMi had given her iip; tliouglit that foraome reason the acquaint- 
anceship was at an end. Iitidy Detty looked pale and a little anxious. 
Her manner, in spite of ila bright fiivolUy, was couatrained. She did 
not talk in her former fresh and frank iray. She had nothing to say 
»bouC tbe diacomfort of being the wife of an unpopular public man. 
She said very little about her husband. The conversation turned 
chiefly on the current g08^p of London ; social rather than politick 
After a wiiile. Lady Bettv bi'g.nn lo make inqiiirv about tbe climate of 
Fiirnetia, tbe Bocietv uf tbi; place, aud tlic suciafdutits of a guvuruor's 
wife. 

" I have always thought I should raiher like a jwsition of that kind, 
if it didn't take one away from England and friends and all that," 
Lady Belly said vaguely, "There would be no complications, don't 
you know. No tiresome politics and Focialisin, which is all very 
amusing until it gets serious. .And, then, it is so nice and so t^iy lo 
make people Imppy. One has only to give plenty of parties and 
remember faces and say pretty tilings lo the right persons." 

Lady Betty sighed. U flashed across her that perhaps it was not 
always so easy to eay the right thing when one had to deal with 
exceptional temperaments. She was a little impatient of exceptional 
temperaments, and fine theories awi prinoii'les, and romantic fancies 
and emolions. She did not c:ire for all that kind of thing, except as * 
picturesque background to pleasant life in the beat society — the life 
uf a model hostess, an affeclionate nifo, too well bred not to take her 
husband's devotion for gmnted. 

Lady Betly'a good breeding had the effect of saving her some serious 
heart pangs. She could not admit herself lo be in a position of rivalry 
wiih any woman. Such a consciousness might fester in her mind, and 
in an indirect way inHuenCe her character and her actions; but she 



i 

'^9 



*^TrreTXSEpjMf}^i.s'smff f&r her* 

would only recognize iLi existence wlion impoiled agninst herself (o 
■0. If, aa now, flho Bufibrod through it, slia ivouli refuse to bolii 
feriouBly in her sufToring. She had not crumbed ber Budrlenly aroUL 
jralonsy of Eoorftii by any effort of will, any slrcagth of magaaQiutll 
Bie had left it l-eliind her in the depthg she bnd suuudod for % momM' 
' ' 1 risen again to the smooth Biicfiice and floitgbt the sballoi ^ 
nei to Yenturo no more jato troubled wsterji, Nercrthelei^ 

. B3 Eorae sui)pre8sed agitfttion in Lady Betty's way of looking 

«e and apeaking to Koorili — Bomothing which had nerac been in hor 
mer bofuco. She got up presently, and Eoorilli rose too. 
I won't say good-byo to you, Urs. Kenway, becauBe I am qiUt*' 
din to »ee you ajnvin before you leave for ^ood." 
Iiet us Bay good-bye now," answeroil Kooi^li, nn impulse 
__., She took Lady Betty's haail ia hers. "I may not h 
Of^Mftunity ^ain of telling you — of saying how much 1 vitlue 
Xiadsess you ba<ie shown me etnoe I came to England." Slio t 
Ibr a momont. The eyes of the two women meL Lady IJctty did 
bead fonrard and kks her filend, ae she bnd often done so reiidily 
fora " I pray that you may ho happy, Lady Betty — you aad yf 
-Inwband." 

Eooi'^ii'a voice trpmlilad a little, Bhe longed to say, " Oh, cling 
hiBi, Loily Betty ; make yourself everything to him now ; tr " ' '' 
\a ^merous lo him — and to mo." "With the quick inatinci of 
who loves, Kooiili fool; in the whole sad situBtion— the division 
between husband and wife ; the utter inability of the one to make any 
reqionse to the other's need. Uer own heart cried out in passionate 
■yinpathy, but no words would pass her lips. Lady Betty, in her 
foshiooahly cut mantle, with her pretty smile tbat no disappointment 
could dim, her charming chit-chat, the outcome of a narrow experioice 
that had never ranged beyond courts and drawing-rooms, seemed to 
her at that moment the last womaa to whom she could make such an 
appeal; and eo the two parted with the usual cunveritioual platitudes 
ana expreesioos of good-will. 

A feeling of restlessness cams over Koorili when Lady Bttty hud 
BD&B, She could not eit in the house. Something oppressed bor. 
She want«d air and space and freedom to breathe. The afternoon was 
■sing in. 8he put on her cloak and bonnet, and went out. Within 
doors sometimes the winter darkness and solemnity of this great Lon- 
don, with the roar of traSo sounding as from a distance, gave her the 
aenae of being in a tomb, and the bustle and noise of the strcutp, the 
hurrying crowd, and the lights and life of the shofa wero a 
afimulant and a relief, 

IB bitterly cold. The winter had set in with imusaal 
and, though as yet there had been no snow f,ill, the ground w 
hard. Kootlli walked on quickly till she renohod Hyde Park, 
then, turning away from the frequented jutliB, struck into one of the 
oiel walks on the west side of the Serpentine. 'I'hcre always seernod 
) her a citriuus pi ctureaqueness' about this (uitt of ibi |>aik, Bha 



p, tlie 




likad th« old gnarled trees, tho long vistas trhich seemed to eail V. tin ' 
horiniD, tho grey miBt that cluog to everpthing, and ihtoiigli whleh 
tbe moving tigtires looked liko shroudod ghosts, Tba mckodiDljF 
scgMatiTeiiaes of it nW luuched some poetic chord in her nature Sm 
MtdowD OD a Itencli bv tlio Serpentina for & few mioutes. The sun 
waa letliDg — the roiiad red ball sinking ulowly, with no rosenU glo« 
surrounding it, but getting eradu ally duller ob the mist covendit.iiln 
tbe eye of some wounded Titfia glazed by the dew of death. Then 
waa a light LoAr-fnwt on the ground and on the laurel busbei<, and (tie 
ni'twork of naked twig itiid bough allowed black against the stetly sky. 
The frosea water looked like a shret of dull glass of the same ttice u 
Ibe mist and the sky. Now a goa-Ump was beginniog to twinkle ben 
and tbere. Tbe scene was dreary ond yet pathetic, aud the lonelineu 
Itemed iutensified by the roar of the invi^jible city. At intervals % 
figure stepped out of the fog, panaing by where lihe sjit. One with i 
stately swaying walk seemed to step forth more decidedly than tbe 
rest; and as she rosu to move on bouieivoril again, it halted abruptly 
before her, attracted by her iavolunlary ciclaiuation. She bad recog- 
uincd Morse. 

He had come out in the Eame "mood as she herself — the exprcsaoo 
of bis face told her that. When she eaw and knew him, a kind of 
terror seized her, and she woubi have hurried on, but it was too late. 

" Mrs. Kenway ! " he suil. Theiy shook hands. Her hand was cold. 
They looked at each other through the gathering darkness. For both 
the moment had a world of meaning and of misery. Soul and will 
stnig^ed. There was no pressure of bands ; only the merrst coo- 
Tentional shake-hnnds. At that moment a little guat of wiud swept bj 
and blew up the diad leases, and some drops of sleet fell, 'ibe sven' 
ina bad changed. Kooiili shivered, more from nervousness than from 

" There's a thiw coming,'' MorsB said mechanically, " Why are 
you out at this hour ? " he asked, turning upon her ; " in thi ' 
place, and so far from your home? It is not good for you — } 
have never known an EagUsh winter." 

" I'm going home now," eaid Kooi&Il submissively, " I vri 
walk — to have some air. And I like tho cold grey look of eVH 
It's BO different from anything I've ever seen before. It' 

puelic " She stopped, and gave that hard little laugh he "ba^ _ 

know. " We talk a great deal about our fine aceuery and our woi 
fuJ sunet'ts, Mr. Morse," she wen ton, bravely taking up again 
part she had Litd down fora momeDt; "biitl haveKuen ii wondt 
sunset to-day, and it seems to me that England is the laud of sur- 
prises, and that it is Australia which is Came." 

He smiled in an absent way. There was pnin in the smile, " WdV" 
he said, "you are going back again to your tropical suosots." 

"Tes," she answertd nervously; "very soon. 1 ought to tS 

"No," he interrupted harshly. "Don't," There 



ly are 

I 

f BUr- 

] 



llleace, and he reaumad. " Thn dectiooB are over, Mrs, Kcnwny, ] 
teie, aiid my prophecy hta cimie true. [ can do nothing for 
frwnils; and 1 don't suppose tliat lo-day tbere is a more unpoptil 
pilUic man in England than myself." 

*'You don't cnrB?" she naked timidly. 

"Care — I? Not a jot." He lau^;hed. 
my fother-in-latv cares ; anil my I'rieadn cai 



"But iny wife careij 
e; — all| oscopt, parbaiAi 



that yo« 

They had t 
, and iho fliMtj 
le of thu gkM 



very much lh»l you should reap the reward for palrii 
and disinterestedness," she answered softly, anil felt that she i 
ottered a mere platitude. 

He laughed again in a. ohillina; way. "0)i, rewards of that kfd 
Iwlong to a better world, don't they say? Ituty id 
here. Doesn't an insane wish come over y 
twibt break the images and knock down the . .. . 

Sbs was silent. A sob seemed to ohoke her. 
walking on. The wind vim blowing stronger i: 
shower fell more tldckly. They hod nearly reached o 
at tha Bayswater side. 

" Will jou put me into a caii?" she said presently. 

"Certainly." 

no signed to a hnnsora, and put her in. When he had giTC. _ 
dcirtr the direction, be lifted bis hat without a word, and the c 
drevaot}'. 

KooriLli leaned back with the desjiairing sonsa of one who has 
watched the treasure most coveted float by, and must not stretch forth 
a hand to stop it. Horse had said notlilu^ abutit seeiii!!; her befora 
aha left Engtaiid, He dared not trust himself or her. Ue would not 
bid her good-bye. 

Morse turned again into the park, and tramped on along the broad 
nalk, heedless of the now drenching rain. The sudden change in the 
night Biwmed lo harmonize with that flash-like meeting and with his 
new mood. The mist, the thick masses of smoke-like clouds, the 
leafless boughs of the trees tossed weaiily by the gusts of wind, the fur 
hcdaon-line of lights on either aide, the rain streaming against liim — 
darkness, shsdow, and li^ht, the great, vast dun sky over his bend, 
all taken togetUct in their tffent, wrought a strange, wild, aad moment 
of emotion in him. He slackened his walk and louked ovtr the lonely 
Mene, and with the half-poetic egotism which is in cert.iin moods in- 
eeparuble oven from natures that are not selflsb, ho Bucmed to feel as 
if the wind3,and linbts, arid shadows, and the sombre sides above biui, 
were symbolic of his own life, hie long-vanished youth ; the years 
that were darkeuin); roimd him, the storms of the future already 
hoard approaching, the lust hopes and fond illusions of the past. 
what had it all omc — his struggles, bis successes, his futile ambUk 
even bis very love of country and bis longing for thd welfare of 1 
g«ople~lo what hal it all come 7 Was it not now every day brotw' 
more and mare dirictly, ri'morselessly, into his mind that Le 




iiitMMi the oni-* Ibin!! he woiiU bare lielil most dear in NIh; that ft 
wnsMill llieie witliiu )<)|;lit ftiid mtch cif Lim, hut as aiiattBintlilaai 
though dUi'lwl Trom him by SmfuUKtblo mmmtaiDS or by deHth ItselfV 
The gtttvo rould nnt remove it from htm more utterly than it ""n 
removed. For b mommt his heart Tailed him and gave way, Jb 
mma to a dead alnnd in the raicHle of the Tast, dim, lonely parV; 
oime to a slaod, and iook^ across the acme aod up to the sky in 
which no faintest light of alar was to be seen. Then he flunR bit 
right arm nildly up, and a euddun cry, an inariicnlate, cosvuLlva 
bui«t of emotion came from him. It relieved him ; it roused him, 
lie looked quickly aroiiud in all directions and peered through tb« 
mist, fvaring be might hiivc beeoaeen by some cmionseyo. There »M 
□oone near. One thouM iiave bc-en very near to see him and his aclimt 
OR snob a niglit. No sound was lo be heanl but the roll of diiilant 
carriaj;eB and the rattle of far-off rabs^ If he hod been seen — tlw 
great tribimo of the people, Ihe slron" man, the leader of democracy ; 
if he had been seen to come to a suducQ stand in tbo centre of Hyde 
Park, and fling up his ana like a roan in a mulodr^imii ; if he hul been 
heard lo utter a cry of passion or pain, vrhat would people have Midi 
Morse found grim amusement in the question. It n-as not likely to 
occur again very soon he thought ; it had not happened before. Yet 
he took account of it; it showed him something In himself of which 
be had not had full perception up to that moment. It gave him pause. 
It WHS aa when a man niio has hitherto lived in unbroken h^th, un- 
con'K:ioitB of the very existence of lungs and digestion and so forth, 
suddenly finds that soma power or nerve or faculty has failed him; 
baa failed him once, end may therefore fail him again and ngain. Be 
is not dismayed ; he will not make too mueb of it; bat the thin^ has 
happeni.'d, and Is a new and an omiuous exiierience. So Morse felt 
about his sudden ontbnrat of emotion. Then he set himself againfct 
the wind and rain, got his bat firmly on his head, and strode forward 
in the direction of Park Lime — to all outward seeming jnst Ihem 



CHAPTER XSX. 



lemaoJi^H 



Morse wbs not a little surprised one morning to receive an early viait 
from the young foreign Envoy who has been already mentioned mora 
than fince in these pages, 

" You sre a man much preracd by affairs, Mr. Morse," he bo<nin, in 
English which was remarknble clear, and for Ihe most ]>art correct, 
although strained through Iho sieTO of a foreigner's mental tranaladOB. 
" So am I. You may be sure when I come to take up your tirae'i"' 
not for the prunes, as Frenchmen say." 

"I am glad to see you," Morse answered. "I should be a 
e glad if I could think that you came to Bee mi ' 




1 



^5^S^^KS3^^^^^^ 



otbB ■" 

J 



mke of sedng me and having h taVi. But, of course, I know yoi) 
iloa't." Morso and tiie young Euviiy Lad taken a liking out to tbB 
rttber, aadl>otli knew it. ~ 

"Ah! we are far too biisy, yon and I, for long friendly tnlkg, 
have to leave that to happier men. No; 1 linve something to 
ycu; Bomethingforyourparticular hearing. Well, I wasatoneo 
friend Masteraon'a mectinga last night. I like to woo things for mywl., 
and do I went down. It was far awny in the Bast End. 1 knuw you 
like Hasteraon -, and for your sake I winh him nell, although 1 cannot 
h»ve any sympathy ior a. man who could think of putting himself at 
Ihe head of nu nnarchist mob whom he is pleased to call ' the poo] * ' 
Bowerer, that is not the point. The ]>iint is, that I think lTec<iJ!;ni. 
IBUmg his fureign assuciatea two or lliree men whoso fhcea are fumij 
lome." 

" JcB ? " Somehow Morae aeemnd to know what was 

■Tea; I think they are men who are or were employed "in I 
veryice of <>ur aeoret police," 

Morae might well hiTe ciclaimed, "Oh, rny prophetic soul 1 " _ 
llttened without interruption, hut with the deepest attention and oven 

"1 think Bo; yes, I think so, Now, I do n t Itn w hy thtaii 
men were there or why they ehould not be th I d n kniw if 
th»y were there on their own ftcoount, or were mnai d f st>avs 

pmpose to go there ; I know nothing ; I ehall n t m I ny quiry. 
I am here a apecial envoy for one single purpose 'n th n mandate. 
I ocHwem tnyaelf about nothing eiae ; I snouVd h n ght en tu 
tA questions about anything elae. 1 only tell y u th s m th th uglit 
that if you desired you miaht give your friend a ca t n Of one 
^ng t am proroitndly assured — tliat my QoTemmeut have no wish 
to injure him more than be is already injuring himself; they care not 
(or him as a m»n, and think not of him, I am ei^ually convinced that 
they have nothing but the hi^heat consideration, respect, ailmiratiijn 
for you, Mr. Morse. In putting you on your guard, therefore, and 
enabling you, perhaps, 1o put him on his guard, I cannot be croRsing 
any purpose of my Government, if any purpose there is. But yuu 
must remember I am taking a bold Btep j it is a responsibility ; and I 
ask of you the utmost secrecy, cousistent with your taking thought 
* for youraelf and "iving your wild-hca led friend a caution." 

" What poasible olyect eould your Government have " 

"Perhaps they have not any; or, perhapa, they only wiah to be 
wsjl informed. I'tThaps these men were sent to watch aoroo of our 
KihUisIs, whom j-our people obligingly aheltor bore in London. I 
ennnot say ; I do not know ; I do not even try to giiesa. Now I aak 
pardon for having disturbed you, and taken up some of your time 
lierlinps for nothing; nothing at all. The gracious Laily Betty ia 
well,Ihope? Is she yet in toivn ? No?" 

Morse did not try to bring the Envoy back to llie subject of their 
conTerntion. Ha knew the attempt woidd be usoIsbb. A few word* 



"7//£ RIGHT HONOURABLE^ 
.FtODTerMtlon on gcniiAl su)>jecU were iutercbuigod, nnd ihen ^ 

Morse felt deeply gnitoful for tlio kioilness which liml been Bhown 
by this singular waining. It aeemed to liim likely lliat the fuT«lgD 
police a^eciB, if they were Bucb, were sent over lo wotali the dinngs uf 
contineDtal atiBJchista Bod Nihilints, ratlier tlitui with any view le 
Mutoiftoii'a Hgitstioa. Still, if it waa the &ct, as Le had himnitf 
already auspected, that Eome of llatterson'a associates were not the 
reTolutiusary agitators they ]irufi:BSfd to bo, but were actually ir 
employment of a fortign police, it was ttt the utnioBt importance thU 
MaiiecEon should have waruiug of it. There was no time to be lost; 
it was not a matter for letter-writing or telegraphing, "I must go 
myself; 1 uniHt find Mustersun, iuid tell him at unce." In less tlian 
Cve iniDUtcB from the departure of tlie Qovoy, Morse foimd himseUal 
the door of Masterson's houae. 

lliD house in which Hastersun lived stood In a groat eomhra street 
which had been fashionable in its day, and that day was rather recent. 
Fashion, however, had suddenly receded from it, and already it wai 
being assailed at its extremities, as human bodies are, by the first 
cvidencuB of entire decay. Shops were begirming saudly to appear 
under the entablatures of what hid lately been private dwell in g-hoaaes 
of Etatety and forbidding aspect. Mastcrson's house was a large heavy 
biiildiag with a great absorbing porch. Ita broad flight of steps 
brought nt once to the mind a picture of well-calved footmen running 
u|> and down and at each ascent knocking portentous double knocfca. 
No footman now lilted that soliil kiiocker of ancient bronze; no 
carriage stopped in front of that door ; nor was the door ever opened 
by any jiampered menial in livery and powder. The door, indeed, 
Hiood jiartly open when Morse reached it; and he was in some douhl 
whether he ought to knock or to wait boldly in. Not knowing, how* , it 

ever, where to go if he did walk in, he knocked, and waited fr"" 

answer. No answer came, and so he knocked again, 
ing form amicnrcd ; and then he pushed the door a little n: 
and entered a great stone-Hagged hall. The hall waa without oi 
or rug of any kind, and echoeii dismally to every tread of Morse's 1 
Vast stone Htturcasca mgunted upwards, but Morae felt some he^l^ 
about Tenturing on an ascent into the unknown rcgioua above. J 
had some dim rfcollectioa of Masteraon'a study, a sraoll, or 
lively small, room — none of the chambers in that mansion w 
small — on the ground floor at tho back. Uc made for Uiie i 
found it. Its door waa open ; and on looking in he saw ample ei 
of its still being used by Mtiaterson as his study. There was 
desk of antique and inconvenient form ; there were two or three \ 
and decrepit chairs, on which, apparently, no one w.is expected b 
for they were heaped and stacked with blue-books and n 
Here were pens and ink-pots on the desk ; and there we 
holes crammed with letters, many of them oa foreign paper n 
foreign languages. There were newspajiers stuiTcd into open d 



■—tMwspapen', mtrnj cf wtucli t^ve out tKat i^uoer, ilamp, musty scaH 
which is exlialed bj the journals that comfi to ua Iroin liiilia and oChla 
parts of the East 

Hoiae shook his heail sadly as he noticfd that there were yarious 
■pecimeDS of weapons ecattered here and there, and many models in 
[daster and cork of the most approved fashion of street barricade, with 
pamphlets containitig instructiona as to tho readiest way of faahioning 
jr&ur barricule out of the Eimpleat taateriaU, and the materials most 
nearly at hand. There were two or three speclnieQ hooka which at 
flist pnzxled Murse not & little. They were not much larger thau 
ordinary button-hooks, hut they were sharp of edge and keen of point. 
One, however, guided him oa to its explanation, for it waa tying on a 
iittia pamphlet or trcatine in French which professed to teach the 
MDEtruction and ugo of the implements most serviceBble for the 
niddftzi cutting of the reins of c&vatry horses, and thus placing the 
ridora of the steeds at the mercy of a people rising in their wrath and 
th«iT icajesty and their might. From a hasty gUnce at a pnper lying 
open on the desk, Morse saw that some association or other bod been 
offering a reward for the best design for some implement which could 
enaUe the aforesaid people iu the same state of uprisen and righteous 
tnger to twist by one single sudden wrench the bayonet of despotism 
&ota the gun-barrel of despotism's hireling, the soldier. 

Uorse's heart sank within him at the sight of these evidences of 
preparation for " the revolution." But his heart only sank because he 
iookeid on them as mere evidences of the infatuation into which his 
old friend waa dropping deeper and deeper every day. He did not 
attikch the slightest importance to them as proofs of any deep-kid 
rerolutionary plot against which it behoved society to he on its gi ' " ' 
Morse had not the slightest fuitlbin Masterson's revolution. He 
no Mtb in it, and he was not afraid of it. He jusdy thought that 
nudetEtood tlie temper and the feelings of ths English workii 

daues on the whole much better than Masterson did; and he did i 

believe that there was among them the making of a political or social 
revolution; at ail events as yet. It had occurred to hira more than 
onoe that if England were to be drawn into a great foreign war by a 
Uiidster who was supposed to be acting under the iniluenoo of the 
Court, and if England were to sustain one great defeat to be^D with, 
a eudden republican revolution might be the reauit. But oven in that 
Mse he felt convinced that poor Masterson's melodramatio preparations, 
hia treatises on barricades, and liis weapons for cutting bridle-reins 
and twisting bayonets, would count for next to nothing. 

Meanwhile nobody appeared to be coming, and Morse thought it 
about time to invite some attendance. The best thing, he aupposfd, 
would be to ring the hell in this study of Musterson's. No movement 
could be more natural certainly; hut in this inslaace no movement 
could be IcBB practicable ; for the bell-rope had long sinoe feUen down, 
ftUd was tying io a dusty Uttle coil near the cbimney-pioco, looking 
'^ - a aoaka ttiat had just crept out of a duatrbin in time to give up 




34S 'THE'^TGTTT- fTOA^&Sf^'^Sr 

the ghoat on a hearthrug. Storso ivos Ihin^ing wliotfaer it would si 
bg well to go in (ur the nitluilramtitio nftur a fashion in keeping wiL 
th« place a.\v\ lis sii^cstions cidi) vliout, " Unllo, Louee therel ifiv :l 
the waja nr' liio iroibilioD KllKftbothaa stag?, lie heard vuicsa evoy 
now Rud then u[i«tnirs ; tlie voices chieS? of womra, nud sornQtinSi 
as it aeeroed lo him, the wiiiling of children. The house woe 
dawrled; thnt wm one comfort. AVas he to shouCf Was li 
mount tlie slidxs and explore for himselt? Was he to go away and 
writ« to Masterfon and nak him to appoint nn icterriew etnoevihercl 
While he wns debating those qupstion^ finding the Bituatimi at qwx 
odd, inteiMtinj, and uncomfortable, he suddenly heard a baiity al^ 
outside, and Mastereon liimself appeared at the study door. 

The Bocialiiit chief seemed suriirjaed and a good deal embarrasMd 
at the eight of Morae. Morse hantcncd t:i explain that he had ii.tTuded 
into iho study only because he cauld nut £nd any one to direct h' 
where he ought tii go. 

"Yes, yes," MastErsan said, still a little embarrassed; "we are 
rather an irregular sort of household here ; always niore or less out 
of ordoT, aa jou. see — as you see 1 Weil, and how is Lndy Betiy? 
And how are things going? Bit down, Morse; sit down, my dou 
fellow : if you caa hnd a chair — if you can find a chair." 

While Masterson was speaking he kept glancing quickly sad UD- 
easily at the door, as if in fear of aome unwelcome intrusion. 

"Thanks," Morse answered. " Nuvcr mind about a chair; I am all 
right. I have to put in so much sitting in my Ufo that I like to 
stand when I get the chance. No, never uiiad removing your ixiporsi 
let thim stay as they are. I have to go oiT almost at otice; 1 calf 
came to aay " 

Just at this moment the clack uf n woman's shoes was heard on the 
stairs and near the door, and in a moment the wearer of Uie cLtckiiig 
shoes msde her appearance in tlie Study. She was a toll, liartth' 
fi^atured, angukr old lady, with thin white hair, and elie 
in a gowu of severe and unlovely black stult'. 

"Leaving the hull door open again, Mr. Masterson! Well, I_ 
saw such a man I As if there were no tbbves and robbers about, 
aide the house as well as within." 

Masterson smiled a distressed eort of smile. "-I am afraid, Ura, 
Gmunda," he said, "that we haven't much in this bouse to tempt any 
thief who happens lo be possessed of a sagacious mind. Let me intro- 
duce yon, Morse, 'ibis is Mrs. Grounds, a dear old friend of miue, 
widow of a very duar old friend of mine ; and she is kind eni^ugh to 
net as housekeeper for me, and try (o maintain somi-thing like order 
in thia house ; in which I am afraid she is not allowed much chauce of 
being vary successrul." 

"No, indeed," Mrs, Grounds assented with a aeries of severe and 
Jove-like noddings of the head ; " you are quite right there, Mr. Mas- 
terson. What with one tooialist fomily aick on tlie drawing-ioom 
floor, and a socialist baby Just brought into this wicked world on " 



r »Blri _ 



1 



STASTEnSOTf AT HOME. af? 

Boor above; nnd n colony of Nihilists, nnd I don't knniv ii'hnl other 
lies uf tlio public peace ostablisked in the Attics, nml a Tew nicger 
itiela, or persona looking like nigger raloBtrela, on the kitchen 
leTcl, there i^u't much likelihood ceriuialy of m; buiii^ able to keep 
order. la this gentlnman staying for lunchaoo, Mr, Masleraon? 1 
dare eay he is. Or for dinner, pertrnps? And there is nothing Gt to 
eat in this house, I can tell you, and no time to got anything ; for the 
butcher won't bring wbat's been ordered before six o'aloek, and it will 
be rather late for orderin:: anything elaa at that time." 

"NOi Mra. Gronnda, don't be alarmed," Morse said, with a smile; 
I couldn't stay for luncheon even if MoBtersoii were to ask me; 
which be hnsii't doiie, I can assure you." 

■ T am afraid Mr, Morse wimld aot aaro much for our styie of enter- 
iiHit in this house, Mrs. Grounds," Mastorson said, with an effijrt 
to be pleasant. "Tliis is Mr. 3Iorsa, Mrs. Grounds, the future Printti 
Ulnisbr'I of England, people say." 

"Well, I'm Bure, Mr. Mnaterson, I never fsaid he wasn't," the good 
Hr^ Grounds graciously replied, "I wish, sir, when you do bicotne 
Prime Minister, you would do Bometldng, brin« in some law or some- 
thing of the kind, to save hunoat decent English folk from beiug eaten 
oat of bouse and home by fbniga conspirators of all sorts. I wisli 
yott would pass some law, sir, to put Mr. Moaierson, aa bo ia a friend 
of jouro, buck into the pOEsession of his right senses. I don't see 
what is the u^^e of a Government at all, if it can't do aometbing lu 
BOTB its blends from being beg^;ared and brought to the workhouse. 
Eseusa me, air, if I talk too freuiy — a poor old widow woman oifi'ring 
lief advice to a great man ; but, as you are a friend of Mr. Masterson, 
pcrbapa you woii't take it altc^ether smisa of me." 

" Well, well, Mrs. Grounds," MsHteraon tried to intervene is a tone 
bnlf vexed, half timid, "Mr. Morse won't care tu hear any more of all 
tliU." 

"Excuse me, sir," Mrs. Grounds replied severely, "I should leave 
Mr. Morse to apeak for himarll ou that head, sir, if you please. I dare 
■ay be knows.his own mind." 

"i know my own mind concerning our friend Masterson quite well, 
Un. Grounda," Morse said good- bumou redly; "and I fancy you no'i 
X would agree pretty well on the subject we have been tilkicg about. 
I have scolded Mr. Mastersuu many a time." 

"You didn't scold any sense into him, I'm afraid, air?" 

"Ibi. Grounds evideatiy does not believe nmch in your rsvolutiun 
UantercoD ? " Morse said, with a ami le. 

" Be volution ? Social revolution?" Mrs. Groimds said with a voice 
EKpceaMive of boundless scorn. "I'd revolutionise them, if I hod my 
way. A pack of lazy London louts that wouldn't do a decent strulio 
of work if they could; and a gang of dirty long-hah'td foreigners tlioT 
coma over here to escape the galleys is theii' own country — wliich Ihej 
richly deaervo I'm sure ; and 1 only wiili we bad tlie galleys iiut~ 
ready- for them—" 






1 

4 




r 



348 "T/ZJS RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

"Comei come, ctimal Mra. Orounda," MastersoD inlerposecl, «l 
knitted cyobruws and eyes that begnn to flash ominoiialj. 

"CoiDs, come, cornel Mr. Masterson. I don't mind about 'Cnrne, 
come, come I ' I only wish you would say, ' Go, go, go ! ' to the tot g( 
Ibina. Why must they iastal themseWes in this house, Mr. Mom, 
1 aak you, sir, as a man who knows thuiga and undenstands ihin^if 
Citn't they revolution Izo without eating him out of house nnd home? 
Have tiiey no lodgings of their own ? 1 assure you, Mr. Morse, th«l 
unfottunnte man hasn't at this present moment a l>ed to sleeij in **' 
hns nt/l, sir. He has given it up to a socialist friend and the sc 
frienii's wife — I only hope aha i'« his wife " 

" Nuw, now, now I " Maaterson ejaculated impatiently. 

"Now, now, now! Yes. I'm talking of now. now, now. I am tell- 
ing Mr. Morse of what is going on this very moment while we sUnd 
nnd talk here. Mr. Morse, I dare say you know that this uDlortunsta 
man had a fine property once, an-d thnt he has muddled it sll away on 
bis revolutions and his conspirators ; and he'll die in a workhouse, » 
he will! - 

"Oh, it's all absurdity," Ma^terson hurriedly struck in, "It"! 
nothing like bo bad as that, Morae, I can aasure you. My good friend, 
Mrs. Grounds, is too anxious about my interests, and she cxaggerat« 
things. You sec, it's this way ; I como upon a. man who haa good and 
true ideas and who has the great gift of being able to talk to his feUow- 
men in language that goes homo to them — it's a rare faculty that, 
Morso, ns you. kaow well in your House of Commons — and I want to 
make use of him. I set him to Address a meeting In the park on the 
Sundoy. Very good ; what happens then ? His employer, perhapa, 
is some wretched petty trader with all the meanneas of the greatest 
capitalist almut him. He sends for my friend and discharges him. 
What can I do ? I can't leave that poor fellow and his wife and hi* 
little ones out in tlie cold. Now, can I? Could you V Would you t 
There it ia; thnt'a the whole thing," 

"But don't ihey ever mean tudo a stroke of work again?" Mrs. 
Grounds sharply demanded. 

"Yea; tliat is a question I was (toing to put," Morse said. "I quite 
accept jour point of view, Maaterson; but, then, how will it bo if 
these men get into the way of merely liviog on you — quartering their 
ivives and their fomiUes 00 you ? How if you are converting them 
ioni workers into spouters first, and paupers afterwards ? " 

"Spoutors! Pauiiersl" Mnsleraon exclaimed. "I wish you knew 
them, Morse. You mustn't really judge of my fellow- workers by any 
experiences drawn from your House of Commons and the duU idlers 
and bloated capitalists and heartieas spouters who belons; to it. There 
isn't one of the friends whom I ithelter in this house who is not heart 
and soul in the people's caose, and who would not work his fingers to 
the bone rather than accept ooe penny of private charity or parish 
relief," I 

" Wh.it d'ye call thia but private charity?" Mrs. Grounds Mpj 



■!^ 



ftitid the p<nnted first up and then down to denote that wl . 
™* by " LhiB," was the oconpalion of Mnstecson's house, ui 

fcdownataira, and ia what ua«d to he my Imly'H cliamber. 

" It isn't private charity," MaiCersoQ saiJ. (liming on hi 
flgshing ej'ea. " It is a friend and colleague who still happens 

■ jujiue^ such as it is, and invites bis less fortunate friend and collett;;! 
to come and stay a fevr nights with him. Il' Mr. Morse nsks me 
Aino witli him, and I go, am I accepting charitj' Irom him?" 

"Ah, go along," Mrs. Grounds disdainfully murmured. "Idod*cli 
Um man is getting off his head altc^ether." 

" Tou ought to be asliamod of yourself, Mrs. Grounds ; you oug! 
indeed," Masterson exclaimed. 

"I ought to be, perhajis, but I certainly ain't," was J]is. Orouni 
V^j; "not of ihat anyhow. But it isn't any use talkio) 
■wept in wrathful majeety out of the room. 

" Tow mustn't mind her, Morse ; you musn't mind her," Maatersc 
ittud, with an effort to be cheerful. ''It's all because of ht-r iuterest 
me. She is a gold HOitl." 

"Any one can bm that," Morse said; "and 1 am not certain thai 
tkere is not a good deal of sound common sense in what she has bi 
nyfng. Toll me— you said she is a widow of an old I'lieud of yours' 
mo WHS he— did 1 know him V" , 

" I don't know ; you may have seen him. He was my father's; 
valet; a most faithful serv.tnt; and he was very fund of me when I 
vn ft boy. He travelled with us a good deal, and I may well call him 

■ IrieBd. When he married this poor woman, they bought a house 
and let lodgings there. But things didn't go well ; and he died some 
years ago. My house was empty then, and I took lier to act as house- 
keeper tor me; and she has dene Bo ever ainco. And of course she 
has a temper and says sharp thingv. Bhe can't help it, you know — 
we have all our Lttle ways ; but sha ia eaten up with the zeal of my 
house," MasterKon added, smiling faiLitly. "So I think, Morse,! 
just let her have her way." 

" But it seems to me that that is tie Tery thing you do not do ; yt 
don't let her have her way." 

" Oil, about sheltering these poor people— these poor friends of 
So, no; I couldn't do that, 'ihat is a matter of principle, of duty, of 
fidwdelii]) — I couldn't give way on that, Morse ; and besidoit, she 
Wflggeratea, Yes, yes; she exnggemtea, I assure you. Things are 
not nearly as bad as she would give you to understand. I am not by 
any means the Bimple-heartcd philnnthropiat ehe would make roe ' 
'So, no J oh no ; I know very well what I am duing, Morse, 1 
a pretty sharp look-out, I can tell yau. 1 am not at a 
t«enin." 

"About that," said Morse, with a smile, " I don't feel quite . 
and that just brings me to the business about which I have con 
Intruding on you to-day," 

" Intruding ! Morse, my very dear friend, please ilon't use euoli 



1 





ijo '^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

word M that. Ton we always welcome here;" and Ma 

with Ilie graciousDcsB of a ptince doing (lie honours of a pakce. j 

" Well, I am afmid I had only too good reason for Buapectii^^ 
tome of your fLireigii associates are not exactly what Ihey piol 
b«, Masterson ; and I canie to put you on your guard Bgcunst I 
I hnvB good authority for what I say." i 

Mftsterson's hrow darkened. ■" I thiok we hid better not a 
that subject, Morse. You kuow we can't i^rcc I an in po 
of all your views. Yuu are a politidnn, and you distrust n 
know these men. Let ub not speak on tliia painful subject 31 

" But I am bound t.) tell you what I have heard. You m 

to me. Come, dear old friend, don't be quite so obstinate, 
events, listen to what 1 have to say. I have good reason for si * 

Blasterson stiffiy assented; and Morse told him whnt he hi 
and gave him to understand Ihat he had heard it from ari. 
least knew what he was talking about. Masterson listened wlM 
sliaint rather than patience until Morse had quite finished — I^ 
story was not lon^ — and then he broke out. ^ 

" I was warned of this," be exclaimed excitedly. " I joxj m 
knew it would come ; I was expecting it " 

" Expecting what? Expecting my visit and ray warning?" 

"Expecting that soQielxxly — not jou, certainly, my dear IT 
somebody— would come aud tell me these men were police 8j 
spies. Yes; I waa warned; but I never thought the a^ent 
brutal despotism could have got over you. Ko; tbatldidm.. 
And so you, even you, are a victim to tlieif deccitfulness, and ai 
the unconseioua tool of their cruelty ? " 

Ncthing that poor Masterson could any could possibly offend Morw. 
He was concerned for bia ruined old fiieod; was un.vious to serve him; 
to save him ; and it was nothiit^ to him whether Masterson took bis 
intervention in good part or not, thanked him or reviled him. He 
listened in perfect good-humour to Masterson'a wild outpourings. 

" ThcHO men themselves told me," Mnstorsoa went on to sajr, " that 
the minions of the brutal despotiara which grinds down their country 
would strive to injure them hero l-y spreading abroad the re[X>rt that 
they were creatures of ita own authority and in its occuraed pay. 
They warned mo long ago of this odious and futile artifice. Uow you 
could have bceu talked over, Morso, is more than I can understand. 
But you never much believed tn my organiEBtion ; yoti never trnstad 
my judgment of men ; you seem to me to have just the ordinary 
Englishman's dislike and distrust of forcignora. Of course, I am per- 
sonally much obliged to you, Morse ; and it shows your friendly fecliug 
towards myself, and nil that; but you are mistflkea about thosie men. 
Or, rather, you arc misinformed ; you are deceived by some who hiiTO 
a motive in decmviug you. I nm sorry ; I wish you could better 
understand the feelings of that broLherliood which suifassoa narrow 
natipoalism; but no man keeps up the freshness of his hcait Ic "~ 
EiIb in the House of Commons," 



thmart*^ 



" Than my wnrning is quite thrown nway ? " Monie said, Dioving a 
tftog.x 

"Nut ilii kindness, Morse; Dot its kindness ; that la Tel t and Appro 
rioted. But I can see Iliroush the crafts that have apparently blindK 
you; and wlicn I know luenl trust them. I BUppuae it would be uae 
lew for me to press you to join us in our g<cat peac« demonstmtlun ?' 

" Quite useless," Morse suid. " I don't like some of your coiiijiaDyf 
IbtitenoQ ; and thst's the truth of It. Besides, I am not uertnia that 
you will not do more barm than good as things stacd. If there ll 
anything like a row, it will bring discredit on your whule moTementi 
■ud any little gang of rudions may get up a row." 

** Our movement," Masterson saiif, drawing himself up with a 
□fsclf-aBserting dignity, "has no runiins associated with it. Itulllanisi 
stands back abashed before the sanctity of tha people's cause and thi 
solemn march of the ficople's movciuent." 

" Yes," Morso said, '■ I am gloii— if it be so. Good-bye, old friemU 

UB.4terEon was sulteued. He gave his hand with oorduvUty, and thi 
JoStt J* parted. 

n ..„.„ 

H^^B "thk fii«t uat of liberty.' 

iBR lieart of Masterson swelled high within hita when, nftor a sleeplM 
nig^t, be rose on the morning of th« duy that was, he lirinly believed 
li> begin the new era of international peace. He and hia associai ' 
had arranged to get up n great national deuionstration against the n 
mlicy of the Gbvemment and of the ruling claages generally. "' 
demonstrntion was to begin by a moastcr meeting, which whs to I 
itsdr into a procession, representing all manner of trades and a 
tiona of working-men and democratic 01 
traa to march down to the House of Con 
Uie GoTemmcot and the le^lators with u sense of the national wilL; 
The procession was to include foreigners as well aa Englishmen ; ft 
wasitnotademonstratioD in fftvouFof international peace, brotherhood 
■nd goodwill? Maaterson'a much-revolving mind had been slread 
in ailvance making schemes for a hke demonstratinn in I'm' " " 
Vienna, and St. Petersburg. Ua proposed to put himself al 
of each demonstration, and to associate with him men of diva 
nationalities. It was of the utmost importance ibat the first demon 
stration should be made in London, where there was no likelihood d 

I its being prohibited in advance. The example of London would shv 
that its object, if it were allowed to act, was only poaca and interna 
tlonal fraternity among all peoples. If emperors and kings would \ 
the way, then emperors and kings must take the consequencefl. "" 
tnie union of i>eupies nothing could resist 
Uastereon had been growing more fanatical and more dreamy da 



r 



iSa "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE," 

tXtM d«y. lie 6nnly believed that he bud the whole i 
istlon of Englnail nt hu haak, nnd thnt he was in good ftith ofl 
Ihs CruKii and tlie Governjnent n last chance of a peaceful aettlenunl. 
He could not think but that Ministers would recognize the strenstli 
of hia movement sod the necessity for bowing before it. Should tbqr 
fail t« do so, then his honest conviction was that by a mere demoa- 
■tration of liie sumlier and mnjesty of the people the monarchy wonld 
bll and the republic be eBtablish^id. He wrote letters lo his friend*— 
to Morse among the rest — this particular morning, and dated thwn, 
"The first day of England's tiljerty." His aoul waa filled with ill* 
greatness of his cause and of his movement. He thought it nothiag 
but a generous concestion to eittablished institutions itnd ancieat 

Etitical creeds which allowed to the Qovernment and to the monorohy 
elf ona other chiince of existence. He vindicated this concesiuoo 
to his own mind by the thought of the strength and magnaaimitf of 
the people. 

"The English people are Btrong," he s&\&, "and thoy know their 
strength; they know, too, how to be merciful." 

Some of his more impatient fotlowera chafed at what they cnllid 
Maeterson's moderation. Ccrlain of the foreign democrats in particular 
were angry with him, and insiated that there ought to be no ntlwc 
chance given to eS'ete and vicious systems. Some went so far ss lo 
say that Mostersou was pulling down the intercationnl flag. Mastersun, 
however, was determined; angry opposition only made him more deter- 
mined than before. 

From an early hour on the momentous day, and from nil porta of 
London, crowds kept converging upon the appointed centre in the paA< 

It was a curious acd chaotic gathering. Liberty and Peace Lsd 
strange representatives hanging to their skirts. There was somtthinj 
melancholy and picturesque in the sight of the etreama of poverty 
stricken men and women that tricklMl through the park galas aftei 
the more orderly array on that grey December morning — begry, fed- 
nosed old men; unkempt street loiterers, depraved and sickly-look (Bg! 
impish ^amini; truculent roughs ; coarse women in tattered clothing; 
wan-faced, wistful-eyed children; — (he usual conatituenlB of a Londua 
crowd. But this was in some respects unlike a London crowd; it 
taintly suggested the call of the tocsin, the Ca Ira, the slaughter at 
the barricades. 

There were many foreigners — vrlry French, swarthy Italians, strange 
long-haired Germans, Piues, Ruaslans, — every nationality, it seemed, 
leavening the British mob. Home looked e^er ami excited, some 
indifferent. Moat of them gestiouiated more or less. There was an odd 
babel of tongues — a good-hnmouied buzz, with now and then an omi- 
nous imprecation. Many women had hrl°ht-coloured skirts and shawU 
and Ted head-dresses, and there were red flags waving here and there 
As a ray of sunshine broke the grey clouds, the flaring patches uf 
crimson stood out in vivid relief. Some of the better-clad men woi* i 
tri-coloiired scarvea, and now and then njight lie seen a musty 1 



r 



3S4 '^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE^' 

tlie petty policy of » Court and a party. Should, howerer, tli*)iBi_, 
Ur*, ilJ-iuWiitiil, take Iteps to [ireienC tho delegates or the peoplefrem 
entering tlio cimrlynrd of tbe people's palace, then tho rMponaiWIitj 
mtul ivst on tlia beads of those who met a mora! prut ex ration lij 
furcehil Tvustance, Come what would, tho delegates wuuld ealet 
Palace Yard and demnnd speech of the advisers of the Crown. 

The proceaoion moved aioid the bars aorl liaSoss trees of tlie parll. 
UuteraoD was oa bor^ibock. Upon bia figure tha eye of the epw 
iatcT iostanlly fuslened. A Iricoloureil scnrf round his waist rciN^ 
s«iit«d in some now comhinatioa of hues universal liberty, eqiuuty, 
and fraternity. His lean nervous frame, naoally prematurely bowsl, 
was erect now. Tho long thin hair, neglected of Inie, almost tooohtd 
bis shoulders. Tlio grey beard B wept his chest. The whole face TO 
alight with iatcnse excitement, and the eyes bsd in them tiie gleam 
which might be seen in tho eyes cf a patriot or a martyr. 

Ae he led the march out of the park, and surveyed as well us IiB 
might the nature and extent of bis fullowing, ho could not help wisL- 
ing that the disdpliuE of his natioDBl army was a little beliei lun- 
taioed ; and that there trere not so many ruu^ha and street araba and 
communistic-looking foreigners hanging on the skirts of tho liieli 
There were some tennen flying too which even he did not grvatl]' 
care to see amid his riuiks. There were the flsga of some fordgn 
revolutionary clubs, the devices of which had as much to do with wtr 
a^inst religions as with war against kings. There were men at tbu 
head of some of these clubs who were well-known to have publicly 
advocated dynamite and the dagger as among the legitimate resources 
of ■' 'I'he Revolution." But what could be done ? AfLer all, theia 
men tco belonged to the great brotherhood of humanity. If they vrent 
t«i far or moved in a wrong direction, who was responsible? Who 
but the unauthorized agents of an anti-popular and unnatural system 
which ground the faces of the poor and put all true labaui' under the 
feet of the princo, the peer, and the capitalist? 

Masterson bad intended that the army he led nhould bo on this occa- 
sion a peaceful array. He had. given orders that every une was lu 
come unarmed. Before they hail begun to move on, somo of the more 
trusty of his followers came and told him that a ccinsidernble number 
of those forming the procession h^nd revolvers and other weapons. Oiiu 
very prudent adviser even talkoil of the expediency of breaki 
and postponing the demonstration alt<^ther. Maateraon rep 
this timid counsel by giving tbe ivord to march, 

I'he day was line, a grey day, with a faint vaporous fo^ hi 
over the city, and veiling cnido outlines. The !!un shone thi 
at intervals round and red. It had been struggling all day v 
December nust. Ah the prooesHlon moved, tho sun prevailed 
and shone with a mild and softening glow over tho park and tlie 
•treets. Masterson hailed its light as a good omen. A few of tha 
chiefs and captains of the movement rode witii himr weariuj 
like himself, and like \\\v\ bearing neither stick nor aU-vve. 



ns. Oiiu 

and tlie 
>v of tha 

ring scanvUM 



iitteadad tliat men on horseback at various IntervaU should keep tj 
boa of the procession dressed up and in gocd order. Tha n 

: nuuntained fairly well in the park, but disirrajr and evei 
jaa to Bet in the moment the procession got into the streats. 
1»cama mixed up sometimes iiiax.tricably with the rush of trallii; ; 
hera aud there it swept the ordinary lines of trafBc along with it ; but 
in other places it broke confusedly, hopelessly, against soma long ati'l 
solid succession of vnst waggons and pancleroiis drays and hcnvy 
crowded omnibuaea. It got into wrangles with drivers and policcini'ii 
and peaceful wnyfi(rer». Somatinies half tha procession was cut >iir 
IiDm tha other half, and trying to wait or to baric hack was forccil 
into greater confusion than ever. Tempers began to be aroused. T}iq 
ordinary street passengers, detesting the whole thing, were wroth with 
the anlhoritics for not sweeping it off the streets atto;:ether. Tlivra 

'eTehement little collisions with the police here and there; Lelmcls 

■e knocked off, truncheons were pretty freely used, and there wiiu 
broken heads before the main body' of the procession bad got into St. 
James's Street. The balcuniea and windows of the clubs in St Jnmci's 
Street were crowded with spectators, all of whom, including tliose at 
the Devonshire Club, the majority of those in the procession rcgardid 
- aa " bloated aristocrats " whose idle supcrvisiou they were disposed to 
resent. Sometimes there were hisacs and groans from the line of pro- 

sImi as it passed under unpopular balconies and windows. Once or 
twice, soma rough or street gamin sent a stone Hying at a window 
pane. It was already plain that tUe majestic and peaceful demonatra- 
tion was in very fair chaoce of turning into a diftorderly exhibition of 
individual roughness, boil temper, and incapncity. Mastcrson giilloped 
back several times to rtbuke disorder and entreat forbearance, in the 
name nf the sovereign peuple. But alriady his heart was aiokiri^ 
within him at tha pruspoct. 

Soft and agnin a party cry souaded, and the nitmc of some political 
ieadar was called out, geuerally with groans, Alaiin waa getting 
abroad Caj'ria;;e3 turned hasiily into back slricls. Ladies' heads 
Appeared for a momtnt at brougham windows, and were withdrawn in 
terror. Lndy Betty Morse vaa one of those whose carriage came in 
the way of the procesBJon. She h.id been sliopjung, and waa returning 
to Park Lane. t>he had heard notliing of the monster demonstration. 
There waa a block just where her carri^e was drawn up, and her 
enachman waa not able to obey thu order to get quickly out of Picca- 
dilly. The crowd thronged round. One or two roughs come close i<> 
Ibe brougliam windows. After Lcr first imgmlae of fear. Lady Betty 
eat quite erect. She hod some of ilie courage as well as the pride of 
raoe. A shrill French voice cried out " A bas les orlstocratB." Lady 
Betty was not an imnginntlvo person, but she began to conjure up 
lisions of the fricoUuses, and to wander if she were in sober England, 

A dour, horrible-looking creature, who carried a crate containing iron 
ImplemaDte used in sumo manufacture, and who had hooked himself 
on to the proceawon, peered iu at her tor a moment, and frigbteneil 



ber t>7 Ilia glare oriintreit. Bbc benrd him ia& BiiUen toueitddret., 
the men nenr bim. " Who ii it rtopa up the roads snd tramplwj 
ibe pi-oplo? DAmn the BiistocnitE, nilh their carnnges and ha 
And ihcir siitg^eriiig jiggcring BerraDts. It's them that makwll 
nnd makea revoiutions. Who m&-1e the French revolution? 
luakiDg the Eogliah one? — What's ihat?" And he torn on, pi 
asUQBt the nuhiog throng. " Hurrah foe Slur^, the peopl^ h 
lle'a the people's fiienil. No war, uo Court] Morse, the repuUi 
ihnt'a the nian for ns!" 

Lady Hetty heard her husbiod's name caught up by a t 
luusuea. What did it mean? Was he inciting the Bngbsb tt 
.She pulird wildly at iho cheek-stcing. A footman turtied his « 
fac« diiwn lo thu glass in front of the brougl'a'n. He dared not gi 
hifl perch. I 

"What is it ? " cried Lady lietty . " What baa your maator M 
withil?" 

"Oh, ray lady!" shouted the man. "We can't mate out 
ore saying il'a Mr. Murse in one of the balconies, and that be is {.. 
tu speak to them. They've begun breaking the club windows, i 
ii's passing on, my lady. Wo shall be able to move in a rainute,T 

Lady Hetty uttered a cry of bewilderment. " Go hom.e," she Q 
"as quickly as you can. Turn down one of the aide streets." 

A policeman canght live horses' heads. The way began to i 
a little. He looked into the carriage to reassure ita occupaDt,a 
lecogluzed Lady Betty, He had aeea her drop her husband ii 
Yard. 

"It's all right for you now, my lady," he said. "They have a 
tnken somebody for Mr. Morse, and they are shouting ' ' ' 

Lady Betty drove on, the frightened horaea urged to speed by the 
no less fiigbtcned coachman. 

But the look of terror did not fade from Lsdy Betty's face. It 
seemed to her that she was not to be left one shred of illusion. Repub- 
licanism had coma too close to her lo keen any vestige of pictarasqu«- 
ncss; tij be anything but a horror. iShe had heard her husband's 
name coupled with thut of Masterson, the democrat, heard him 
acclaimed by communists as the people's lender, the avowed advocate 
uf a lepublic, He the leader of such brutes as these— the inciter of a 
street riot I 

She did not know what had happened, or try to think what might 
happen. She htid not imagination enough to preGgure any startling 
calamity. But she knew enough to make her feel that her little world 
which had been so proeperous was cnimbling to atoms. She had a 
wild longing lo fly from all that hod brought her trouble, to go back 
to her own old spharB, to seek tha protection — not of her husband, he 
bad ranged himself on the other side — but of the Court and the aristo- 
orats, to whose order she belongcil, and whom ho hated. She had no 
Impulse to cast in her lot with his in the struggle— if there w 




^^^^'^^T//E FIRST DA Y OF LIDERTYl 

to be a strug^ilo. This shock afaowed her thrit hCT natur 
liu not to brjld uiih him, but to ntaad apart from him. 

The policeman was right. A tall strwglit- featured man ulAndingfl 
(be balcony of a Liberal clab had Iwen miitakou for Morse by lutne ok 
th« leaders in the mob. The cry si^rellod. A roar of enthusiasm set in. 
It -was a long time before tho miatalte was dixoavered. Exccratiotu 
foltowed cheers when ihe man in nucstiun withdrew with an air ul 
taoteoipt into the building. Not all Muetersoa's eflbrts and ptotcsla- 
tioDS could make tbiogs clear. Worse's nnme was shoutod, cr.iU|iteJ 
with democratic ciies and wUd appeals that he would ahoiv himself and 
go down with the demoDstrationists to Westminster. 

A group of well-dressed men, not yet in fear of miasiles, came out on 
tho balcony of a well-known club, and seemed to linJ cunHiderablo 
HDUBeiuent in watching the wild confualon. below. The laughter of 
these men exeited the mob to fever pitch. In less than a miniile the 
MoDstcr Peace Bcmon^trntion bad became one of lawlens riot. Bed 
9»Bt waved. Tbe few inefTectual policemen who had gathered on the 
ikuta of Ibe tumult were beaten down. Pierce revolutionoi-y erica 
sounded 1 gravel and stones whizsed through tbe air. Thea camo a 
craali of breaking glass. Ercry window on the ground-iloor was bat- 
tered. Tben an infuriated rush on to other buildings; more breaking 
glass — more ruin and destruction. 

Only when Mnsleraon charged into the very thick of tbe wreckers, 
and called upon ihem toiight and Ict^ io accents of pasaionate reproach 
Had entreaty not to defeat the very object of their mission by this 
display of violence, was some sort of order restored. 

By dint 'of bis eseition tbe procession was induced to re-form 
ilaelf, Eomo few knots of insurgents lingering to launch stones in an 
ttimlcGB fashion at ciirrUgca burrjiiig down thu «ide streets, and at the 
windows of shops in St, James's IStret;t, then skurryingon to swcU the 
niambody. 

n»e procession turned into Pall Mall and was jjassing the gates of 
Ibrlborough llouite. An we have mentioned more than once, an idea 
had gone abroad that the war policy was favoured or inspired by tha 
Court; at all events by some of the royal princes. Many of the 
0«naan democrats in particular were highly wroth with lioyaltioa. 
As Iho procession was jiaasing the gates of Marlborough Hooae some 
groant and hlssei were sat up, and these increased and became tumuU 
luouB. Mnstcrson, believing that comparative order had be«:n restoi'ed, 
and fully occupied in exhorting hl^ own particular following, waa far 
«bead when theso sounds began ; the main body had nothing to do 
with them. But the rear of tbe procession came to a sudden bait in 
an irregular nnd epontaneous way outside tha gates, and set up a 
furious groaning, hisdug, and yelling. A canU^e was at the gats 
with BOme occujiaots — ladies, it appeared; no one could tell who they , 
were — and Enrae alarm was felt by thera, aeemingly; for there w"' 
% faasty knocking at the gate, and one of tbs footmmi ran ni ' '"' 
buty counsel with a soldier doing duty as sentry. The gnte w 



there ndu^i 

1 



-. ..pi 

358 "THE RIGHT HUNOURABLE." 

dcnly ahot opon, the cnrrioge and its occupants absorbed ii 
withiu its dlicltor, aod the gste* closed ngoin with a. cluig. Ai ll ' 
under tho Teiir thnt an atlacEof Boine kmd was to be made, the t*a 
HDlries stood in fruQt of the closed gates. The mob — for tbu part uf 
the tuL of the procession which bad come to a stOkiid ia front of MhI- 
borough Hoiiu could now only be called a mob — seemed to roseut tlii> 
idea, and bepm to make domoostnitions of violence. The IiisHes wid 
groans wore furiously repeated, vituperative epitiiots ia foreign tongott 
Bounding distinctly, and some hands from the oiitEide of ibe crowd 
began to fling stonea again. Soma of the stones broke a few jiiwias of 
glass in the windows of a neigbbouring club. Boms shot over tba 
gates of Marlborough House, and, as it was ])nim[>lly reportixl, 
sma-ibed sevcial panes of glass there. How the story was paEsed oa 
BO quickly no one coutd tell ; but the last stone had bardly u'erpercbad 
the wall of Marlborough Houftewhen the ncwa was spread all ovar ttio 
House of Commons that an attack had been made by the mob on tht 
residence of the Prince of Wales, and tliat the ladies of the family 
had been compelled to eeek fur eaiety, At the same time it is only 
fair to aay that the essgseratad report reached our heroic mounttd 
Quixote of democracy, Jklaslcrson, aimost aa quickly. Never in Ills 
earlier years had be mude Itis way across country with greater 
energy than he now rode back to prevent outrage and disorJei' &Via 
gaining the day. When be did get back, he had yet infiuenca euougii 
to prevail upon the crowd to taove on from Haxlborough. House, uil 
lo endeavour to form itself once again into the line of proces.iion. But 
bo was shocked and grieved to find what a hideous proportion of the 
element of Ibe mere rough had got n^ixed up wilh all tbis part of the 
National Demonstration. His efforts at order were sometimes met 
with curses and jeers. Oca of the fireign democrats, out of ivhoGn 
olu'ch ho tried to drag a revolver, pointed the weapon directly at his 
iitad. He heard windows crashing in as he tnmwi into Whitehall, 
and all iilong the wiiy there wcrs lierca litfle collisions between tiiosa 
who belonged to tlie procession and those who did not belong lo it. 

Masterran bail lost his plaue at the head of the march, and was not 
able to reg.itn ii. When he got at last in fnint of the gntea of Palactt 
Yard, he lound that the yard wiis already nearly filled with the inera 
vanguard of the procession, and that the police were trying to close 
the gates aeainst all further comers. Esaggeriited rumours t,f the 
attack on Mailboroujth House had already Kpreud cunstrrnation. A 
large body of police was assembled at Westminster, and fierco dvler- 
minntion not tu yield an inch to llje miscreants nas «xprcsaed on tbt 
face of every man of it. Ho w:is just able to get off his horse and 
squeezebia way inj and then b« found that the crowd behind biia 
were trying to force their way. The moment he got inside the gate§ 
ha saw tliat all was practically over, so far as any chance i-f direct 
communication with any members of the Government was concornuJ. 
'Ilie police anil the crowd were alreaily in fierce confUot, He 
braodlshing knives; he hoard ilio patter of the revolver, 1 



'er, the n^^ 



"THE FIRST DA Y OF LIBEKTt." iflH 

■ers battling fcir thoir Uvea. Hf rushcl into 
« make a last eOurt in tbe causo at lilierty. 

It was WednesdHy, nod the Bonso of ConiTnoTiB, according to ita 
Mue, was sitting! from twelve o'clock until six io tbe cveaitig. WeH- 
iwemy is commonly given up to the uieaaurea of privnlo members. It 
Is a ilay of independent stnlGBinanBhip. It was an obsarvntion of 
Edmuol Burke, that ho generally found iodependcnt men in I'arlin- 
ment to lie men on whom nobody could depend, Tbe independent 
Mal«nnniiship of the Wecinesiiny is miher often n gtitesmansliip on 
which no one can depend for any deliuita and practical rosulta. It is 
Ibfl day of tbe parliamentary Sisyphus, who rolls hii measure np to the 
t«i|i.of the hill only to have it come rolling down agnia the moment 
the clock-fingers point to a quarter to six. For then the Speaker, 
■eoording to rule, riaes, perbapB in the very middle of some orator's 
sentence, calls " Order, order I " and proclainis the debate at an end, tbe 
remaining quarter of an hour boin; devoted to the formality of post- 
poning succeaaivcly all tbe other measures on the notice-paper. 

Uons hnd com e down to the House because he felt a. sort of int(Ti?Et 
In some Bill that was to be brought on. He had not thought very 
much about the monnter procession and its petition. He had receiveil 
Hastcrson's letter wilh its date signalizing the birth of England's 
liberly ; hut he had put it half sadly away, and had no cipect.ition or 
fear that anything tn pirlicular would come of it. He hnd boen read- 
ing in tbe library in n listless Burt of way. Ho had a huge Tolitms in 
his hands, and every one who passed through was sure he was study- 
ing some iiiiportaut pntiiical subject. The truth was that the book he 
hl^ laken up was a French translation of some minute Arabian memo- 
rttlrSia concerning the life and s;iyiiig9 of Mahomet ; which Morse read 
with but a laiieuid interest. After a while ho got up and went out of 
Uw library and on to the terrace. The day wiih soft and bright for the 
lime Of ypar and the climate, aad the grey and dull-r^ walls t>f 
IiMmbeth Palaoe looked venerable and picturesque in the mild sun- 
light, Mor.'c lit a cigar, and iKiced the long stretch of terrace alone. 
Perhaps there came into his mind some thought of the evenin r wheti 
KoorJlli and he walke<l on that terrace together, and when he did not 
yet 1 1ll te suspect that he felt too deep an interest la her. Anyhow 
his thoughts took a somewhat melancholy turn. 

Suddenly he began to henr great noises camewhere in tile near 
(listanre, There was a sound as of commotion, of multitudes, even of 
struggle. Then he remembered alt at once Masterson's first day of 
lilierty, Hiid the monster procession, and the petition that was tu be 
presented ; and he began to be afraid some disturbnnce was taking 
place. Heavens I wan that the sound of Dre-arms — quite near? 

Tliero were several groups of members on the terrace. A great 
nami>er 'if men had come down for the express purpose of seeing the 

■in and the wfaols liusiness. Some hod been {wsted high up to 11 
k Tower to have the better view. A eudden piece of Qb1^B| 



j6o '^THE RIGH7 HONOURABLE.* 

WM giran to (be msmben on the tornca as the ontcb of the revolrcn 
tuaiiood, vfhicb mnde tbom all eXait up and run as if tbej bad heard 
the divinoQ VIU Ooe maa ^hom Morso knew persooallf ran pan 
Um Mid just slopped lo ay out, " Hallo, Morse, j-oiir democrat friend) 
am pUyiog tbe very ik ill with ubI Haven't yoa heard? ThqV» 
been brmkingniudowsat Marlborough House!" and then hemni^iad. 

Horse had the powet of keeping coo) in an emergencj. He did not 
believe that Mastcrson, chivslroua though misguided Masterion — not- 
withstanding hia Tague plot to overthrow the Buccegsion— would lano- 
tiun any vulgar attempt on Harlboroagh House. But he did fear that 
Hasterson's sociaUsta might have proved too many for him, and Mdi>s 
instantly reflected that if any disturbance were threatened, he himself 
might bo of some service as a peacemuker. So he strode at the best 
of hie speed ihronah the covered passages of echoing atoue nod tb« 
open courtyards which lead from the terrace directly into Folace Taid. 
When be gut within sight of PaliLce Vard he could make out nothing 
at first but a confused sea of men's furious and maddened faces; he 
could hear nothing but a Btorm-oiDd of yells, cursea, Bhout«, and 
howls. In another moment he could see plainly enough that the 
police were striving to make head against a mnss of people who had 
got possesion of Filace Yard. 

Horse hod a quick eye, and conid take la things coolly when a 
critical moment came. Ue was & Jittle thrown olf his balance for an 
instant when he saw what we mny call the firGt blood drawn. Il ii 
a sickeniog sight that first blood one sees drawn in any manner of 
conflict, whether it ba the blood of one's comrade on a battle-field, or 
it spouts from a truncheoned head in a street riot, or reddens the blauk 
and glossy side of the bull in the arena of Hadrid. The first bloo^l 
Morse then sx*i drawn was from, the face of a policeman whom ho 
knew persunally, a civil, quiet, obliging creature, who was struck on 
the cheek by a sharp and jagged stone. The second blood draivn was 
by the polieeman's tnmcheon from the skull of the procesuonisC who 
Iiappened to be nearest to him. Than Morse saw in a moment what 
had happened. I'art of the procession ha<l succeeded in getting into 
I'alace Yard. The police were struggling hard (o get the great gates 
closed against the remainder of the crowd, and the still excluded mob 
wna fighting fiercely to get in. Stones were flying in from the outside : 
the police wore all but swallowed up by the crowd inmde. At last 
ihey were evidently compelled to fight for thmr lives, truncheon in 
hand. ■^~ 

An inspector of police whom Morse know very well by s^hti 
Hlriving lo make bis way into the crowd. He saw Morse in p~~ 
and appealed t<i him. 

"Bpeak to them, Hr. Morse " he oried out. He bad tf. u. j vu. w 
good earnest in order to be heard above the din of the struggle. 
"They'll lislen to you, perhaps," 

. -Horse caught at the idea, Hs was standing on the raised pathw^ 
— '■'"h runs along the side of F^aceYani in front of the cloiatar ou* ' ' 



sry oul fl^^ 

Hruggle. 

wthwajr I 



vrhicb tbe courtyard ofvOB where Ibe Sfieakcr lins hU official ra«idence. 
Re wna lifted, thererore, a tittle above the luvd of the crowd, ll 
ttnick Iiim even in tbiC momeDl ns an odd and whimalcnl sitiintinti 
tiK B public nukn who waa aupposed. to Vie n pof eible Ftimu Minister tu 
hwe to try to hnrnnguo a foiioua mob within the very jirecincU of tho 
Imperiftl Pdriinment. 

** Fellow-country men, working-meo, friends 1 " ho called out, and his 
rtic« rang across the gn.'at square, and -wakened echoes which gavs 
back hia words. " Hear me, I beseer h of you — you know 1 am your 
fiiend. Desist from this violence, vliieh can only do harm to you and 
tffl wiy cau,"o you haTe at heart." Then he sto|iped. " No use,'' ' 
nid to the police oOiccr; "they are beyond lliat." In truth 
attempt was hopeless. Only the ecboea appeared tu pay any attcn 
to his worii, and the echoes made mockery of Uiem, 

Already the police officer was lo9t in the crowd. He had recogntl 
the futility of eloquence at auch a moment. 

Morae too plunged into the thick of the crowd, hoping to Bee soma 
liacaa he knew and men to whom he was known ; Imping to prevail on 
some leaders of the procesuion to work for llie restoration of discipline 
and order. He could see the sunlight glittering oa the helmets ot 
s olofitcr of cavalry drawn up on the far aide of Parliament Square, 
ODif evidently kept in waitiu? lest -worse should coma of it ; and erea 
in that moment of coufusion he could not help mlrairing tbe discipline 
which kept them there unmoved within sight of the Btrtiggle between 
f'Olica and people, only to intervene when Iha civil power could no 
longer hold head against disorder. Then in an instant he saw Maater- 
KMi a short distance from him. Ths chief of the socialists waa atriving 
with all im might and main to keep hia people from their atlAck on 
the police. He waa wililly gesticulating, and kept pointing to the 
ihree-coloured aish he wore^ as to some emblem of order and brother- 
hood which both sides were bound to recognize. He had lost his hat, 
and there was a great cut on hia temple from which blood was flowi 
but of wliich be did not appear to be consciinia. Morse saw a poli 
man rush at him with nplifted truncheon, 1'he man evidently t( 
Uasterson for a wUd initigator of force, Uorse made a desperate ef 
to get hold of tha policeman'a arm and to drag him back. It waa 
'ite: it waa hopeless. He distinctly heard two dull heavy blows aa 
D the bare head of tha unfortunate leader of the aooial demacrata: 
od he saw poor Mastenon turn a ghastly white in the face, and then 
sink in tho midst of the fighting crowd. Morse forced hia way through 
the crowd by sheer strength, caring nothing for the chance of random 
blows from either side, and he got to where poor Masterson lay, and 
tried to lift bis head. Even in all the fury of tho struggle some o* 
those near recognized Morse, and saw that he waa striving to aave 
■omebody, and they lent him a willing band. 

Morse took np the lean body of iMastersoQ in bis arms, and sternly 
OTdered thosa around hira to make wa)', that the injured man might ba 
carried into a place of Bufety. Morse was careful not tu mention Mas- 



'he 

i 



ting, 

i 



*TJfS S/Gffr HONOURABLE* 
iih« bore ii 



I6] 

EenoD'H tmm«>, or to fillow the (sm of the n 

1m wen by the crowd around. Ue felt tliat if it were known that tiia 
leader of tbe moveiDent had been already gtricten iluwn, the p 
fiir Tcn^eancB would render iha socialist mn« more desperato thao 
hofure, Suni» of tbo policemen who were statione<i at the dooc uf iht 
membera' CDttance to protect it, and wboM duty did not as jet briog 
them tnio any ooliision with the crowd, saw that Morse was tryiug to 
rescue some one, and made way for him, and would have helped h* 
to carry in L'ia burden. Morse, howcrer, refused to allow any one . 
b«ar Ilia poor old friend but himself. Uta heart was bursting its li« 
bore the now almost senseless body. The lung grey floating Lair ns 
clotted hi>ra and there in Ihlckenins blood; the wliite face looked 
waxy and almost transparent; death might have already comr, so 
corpse-like was the lond that Morse was beanng. The contrast was 
strittiDg; would have bi^n roost siriking, indeed, to any one who 
knew that Morse and MiUterson were ab()Ut ihe same age — MotM 
atraight, strong, elnstis of tread, with tho free vigivous movements of 
manhood's best yearn; and the Chin, wasted, grey, and ebruDkea old 
man whom he was carrying so ea^ly in his arms. 

Uorso strode through the members' entrance, and into (he cluk- 
room ; a long narrow room on the ri^ht, looking rather like B prison 
coiridur, eicept for the cloaks and coats and umbrellas of memlien 
that hung in the alphabetical order of tlieir owners* namea on pegs, 
big-written round-hauJ 



le of the attendants ; " In 

a were burning cheerily. 

I, just there ; lay them 

le tu strcCcli him softly 



surmounted by cards bearing eacii 
charaoiera. 

" Pile some coats there," Morse said to < 
front of that fire." One or two huge lii 
"Not too near; lake any conla — Ihere's mi 
down nicely. Yes, that will do. Now help 
there; be is wounded." 

" My God I bis skull's regular Rtovo in," the attendant said, 
shuddtr, "What was hea-doing of, Mr. Morse?" 

"Trying to preserve order and savu human life — that ws 
Morse answered grimly. 

Tliay laid him gently on the he*p of coats. By this time 
three members came in who had seen Morsa with hia burden. 
amoD^ them was Mr. Caleb, a skilful little surgeon who had lately 
been tahen with the ambition of a parliamentary career. He had run 
to tbe Fpot to offer his services. Bo lookeil nt the wounds in Moat 
son's head ; felt hia pu1sa ; partly opened his eyelid: 

"Bad business," he raid decisively. "Nothing 
afraid, Mr. Morse. Do you know the man ? " 

" Yes ; a dear old friend of mine." 

" How on earth did he get into the row? " 

"As he got into every miafortirae that has 



'T^ 



D be done, I 



Masterson him 

They stood beside him silently. Mr. Caleb looked closely Into 



hee, and waa filled with h new and keener iotmast. ITie liitio group 
WRB now 111 mast alone; Murse, Mr. Catub, and ihu dying iuud. The 
JWreasius noise of the Hot had dnivii all others away to ibe more 
etdciag acene outsiile. Moaterson was b^e^tlling in a heavy itertoroiu 
Win'. Ho opened his c}'es oaoe or twice, and luo]ie<l vaguely tip ; not 
iwinDg Biiythin°;, Bot bearing anylhiu;!. Muraa knelt besida bim. 

"Do yon know me?" be said, in tones that bad uuBpeakable 
Underneas in (hem. "Mastcraon, my dear old frieodl " 

The Toico did not recall the dying man to coDBciouancns, bnt it 
.il^orenlly brought ivilh it some ineiuorioa of tha world and the pur- 
^OSes which ha waa IcaTina; behind. A sort of light came orer tho 
pole grey lace, and tho lips wore seen to move, and were evidently 
SttlTing to give uttemnce to words. Morse bent down bia ear to cntch 
tha aonnd. In a faltering toae, that soundeil hollaw and hi away, 
Mastenon upoke at tttsC. Tho only words thai Morse could moke out 
wore these words — ~ 

" The first day of liberty I " 

Then the mouth end the eyes closed agun, and a shudder 
tbroutth tho prostrate body ; in another moment all was over. 

" Iha first day of liberty 1 " said Morso, as he roue from hi» kl 
" Ye« i the first day of liberty has set him free." 

Mr. Caleb lookod up suddenly at Morao, and theu U-olcod ai 
that there were tears in Morse's eyes. 



Ktli 



CCAPTER XXSII, 



.eout 



Wbbt-Esd London, when it woke up next morning and had lime to 
get hold of its ceivspapcrs and graap the full meaning of the columns 
of news under big startling lines of hendin>r, hc^came stupefied by the 
reoSty of the eventa now brought clearly and fully to its knowledge. 
It was something bewildering to a quiet man who hod lived in London 
all hts life and never known uf anything happening there moro start- 
ling than B murder at the Eaat-Knrl, or a fog, or a great unexjiouted 
onowsturm, to find St. James's Street a scene of desolntion, and to 
leara that there bad been a terriblo riot of something liko a revulu- 
tkmnry character in the very precincts of the Houses of Parliament; 
that Talnce Tnrd hod been stormed by an nniied mob ; that the putico 
hod to fight fur their very lives ; that the troops hod bceo called out ; 
that blood had been shed iaviahly ; that many of tho rioters hnd fceen 
killed or wounded, and that their Icocier, » wdl-known popular doma- 
gfigae, lay dead. These things one mad of in hietoriea ol the time of 
tlie Oeorsos. One had read of Portoous riots in Edinbui^b, and one 
took it for granted that there should be revolutionary commotion in 
■11 manner of txintinental cities and frequent disturlinnces jn the rowdy 
qmirtcra of New York. But who expwted a rail tat nnil abeddlug of 



36^ "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE^ 

Mood in London ? The Hyda Park rigls of 1866 amomit<d, of « _. 
to tKithing mora than a rough piece of plea^ntr; and horMy|i1)i]r n 
Iho pari of a comparatiTcly hnrralcaa mob. Bnt tbo morning p»e» 
now, witli their headings in huge capitals, " Fearful tIoIb. OIuIb 
tuul sliote BiuDOil and nreckcd. Marlborough House attaokoil. Tlie 
troopB tailed out. Many Uvea lost. Mr. Mastereon kitkd!" and 
other Buch attractive and hiirrifying announcements brought home bi 
the ppAcvfiil Londoner's mind the fact that the wild-benst tcmpar in 
man is not to bo sodened and smoothed out of him by any manner 
of dviliKBtion. 

Ever^r policeman nho kept his wits about him testified to the nine 
cIToct M to the beginning of the riot, A large jvirt of the proceasiun 
had been ntloncd to enter PnlDCc Yard. Then, as the crowd seeQKd 
likely to fill the whole pince, tho order was given to close the gata, 
ITiereupon the police declared (hat certain lingleadere, foreigner* in 
appearance, had cried out that the way loust be forced and the builil- 
ing captured, and that these men bad pulled out revoiversanil daggen, 
and exhorted iheir fotiuwera to do the like. Some of them did BUCcwl 



Then the police, believing Tery naturally that the whole movement 
wtiB an organized attack upon tho Houses of Parliament, felt bound bi 
fight it out in the best way they could. The firat result was ihat the 
pocr " aiH)stle of atBiction," the sworn friend of the working-man And 
the proUtaire, the awom enemy of tho aristocrat and tho capitalist, 
the aincerest of droamera, the purest of fanatics, was lying dead In ths 
cloak-room of the House of Commons, all his dreams knocked out ol' 
him by a mistaken blow from a policeman's batun. 

So much for the past; but what about the future? This was the 
question which London society, and all the propertied, trading, sod 
ehopkeeping classes of London kept asking for anzious hours. Is it 
all over ; or was yesterday's riot but an affair of pickets and out- 
posts, preliminary to a great revolutioniiry and anarchic movement— 
a Dihiliem of the London garruts and slums? There was deep and 
widespread an:<iety throughout the day. Seldom, indeed, does any 
public event stamp itself for mnnj hours on tho outer aspect of Lcoidon 
life. This time the faces of mi'a in the streets bore visiblij impress of 
the calamity which bad happened, and terrible expectation of other 
calamities yet to come. The streets were patroUeii by troops. The 
pcilice were vindictive. Prisoners were Iieing brought up at tbo police 
courts hourly, and committed fur trial. Inquests were taking place at 
various hospitals. 

Happily it soon became evident that there was no further cause fi>r 
alarm. There was no common desire amongst any considornble part 
of tho population to create fresh disturbances. There was no really 
fovdutionary' organieatioa hoving for its object the overthrow of any 
settled inatitutions. There was no watchword of social pavolu tidfc ^i 
Cool-hcadrd mngistrntcs, police 'iflicia's, tuA others, found thatMIBI 



>^- 

RMtn they looked into the Actual tacts, the less and leaa cTJdenoe cou]il 
tbej dUcover riC anything like a widespread cnnspirncy (ir RrrangRUieDt 
of &D7 aort to bring about yesteriiay's cntasttojihe. Wbat they dM 
find, ftnd became mora anil more cgnvinced vl every hour, was that 
the occasion bad been debbtimtely Cumod to account by a imall band 
of hired agents for the purpose of getlins up a [bimidabie JIsturbATiCB. 
Long before the eveQing bad fallen in a clue bud been found to ta 
undoubted conapiracy of this kind; and tiie impreBsion on the minds 
of those who knew all that was to be known, became ttrooser and 
stronger that foreign money and foreign agency had been largely em- 

tloyed to hire professional miscreants, and to force on ft serious conflict 
etvesn the populace and the authorities. Such a disturbance bap- 
peoing on the very verge of ft threatened war could not but discredit 
■ad dama.'e the Kngliah Croveniment and England herself in tha 
eyes of iiU foreign States, and that undoubtedly was the cfloct which 
the dlBturbance was intended to have. The conclusion was easily 
arrtceil at. The foreign money employed w.ts the money of the Staia 
with which Ecsland was aViout to go to war. The money was Hi>ent 
that England might be stabbed in the back at a moment of pc^iuliar 
gravity and danger. 

While Lordon was in thia state of anslety, commotion, and trepEda- 
lloD, a fresh surprise nod t'bock was produued by a letter which ap- 
peaiied in the Fietadilli/ Gazrlle. The letter w.is priuled in large 
type, and was signed, "One who cnu Prove." This was what the 
"one" undertott to prove: "I tdl the English Govermuont and the 
Kngli^h people that yet^tcrday's iiot was got up in the interest of a 
foreign State by persons who spent foreign money to promote IL I 
further teil the English Govemmerit and the English people that the 
reol bead of the conB|>ira>:y, through which the foreign money was 
spent in order that Eogllsti blood might be spilt and England herself 
weftkeaod at a terrible criein, lii the leader of the Radical and the 
MAce party, the Right Uunouralilo Saodhiim Morse, M.P,, whom 
Hndioals and lovers of (lence have long been designaUng a^ the coming 
IVme Minister of EngUud." 

London was much startlwl by this leltef; did not indeed quite 
believe It; but was too much shaken in all itn eNtalillshed Ideas to dis- 
brlieve anylbing very strongly. In the cluha, men said, " It can't be 
tn»; of courwi Morse will contradict it" But tlie j-apers camo out 
neit day, and there was no contrailiction from Morse. The "One 
who can I'liivo" returned to the ohnrge. He repented in the Picea- 
diUy Gaittte the prei'ise accuMtlon bo bud made, and he cliallenged 
amtradtctii in. He added a fresh aes'Ttion. He insisted that there 
VU, or had been, an org.iniantion under Mnstcrson to sot aside the 
Sucoesfllon on the dentil of the reigning sovereign, and to eBtablish ft 
re(Hiblio in England, and that this orgauizaiinn w" ' ■ < -• 
■npportod by the Right Konnurablo Sandhrun Morse 
it," the lotlcr concluded, " if bo can ; if ho daro ! " 
Still l^cra cnrac no contradiction from Alorse, 



-m 
" "^'^1 



iece of iniinniv ■ 
, iutended th»t \ 
Commani alter ' 



166 "TUS RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

appnuvd in all the morning papen a commuciosted piece of inf 

tiun, to the Effect tUut Sir Buderick Fathom, M.P., iutended 
evening Id niuvu the adjoummeiit of tlie House of Commoni alter 
q nest itiD- time in order lo call attention to certain alatemmu madeia 
the I'kcadillt/ Oatette, and to aek whether thu Government had aoy 
iufunnation to give to the House oo the euhject. The par^^n^^ 
eienifiaintly added : " It is expected thnt Itr. Morse, M.P., will be in 
lii* place, tiud will offer some eiplanation to the Houau," 



CHAPTER X5XIIL 
"a scebe in tkb hocbb." 
The House of CommouB was crowded in every part. The c ._ 
pr^iier did nut give its legitiinata occu)uiDts seats enough or n 
enough, and members, therefore, Bwannid into their galleries at 
side, 'i'he places osBigoed to peers, to foreign dipUimatisCB, a. 
distinguished strangers were ererj one occupied. Princes l_ 
serenely down from " over the clock ; " one or two great authorsfl 
happy in having eents Becured for them "under ihe gaUeryi"!.. 
crypt in which ladies are stowed away glistened with silks and velvcb^ 
jewellery and flaahing eyes. 

There were two women in that gallery, far apart from each othflfi 
neither aware of the other's presence, to each of whom the rumours ot 
the expected scene were aa rumours touching the life or death — nay, 
more — the honour of her Dearest and dearest. Lady Betty, at once 
timid and denperatuly eourn^otu, had come to the Honse with hsr 
father to hear and )(notr the woi'st. She had heard on that day only 
of the extiaordinnry charges in tLe Piccadilly Oaxette. Her husband 
she had not seen ainos the riota. Even had they been tt^ether she 
would have shruok from qnestloning bim, as she might have shrunk 
from probing a gaping woimd. But to sit still and wait the couree of 
events was an impossibility. She was too keenly strun;; to be inactive 
in a crisis. And so she hsd come in a straoge tumult of feding, half 
determined to brave it all out, half hoping that her presence ude by 
side with u great Tory peeress — a connectiun of her uivn who hiid an 
appointment nt Court, and midcr whose immeiliate protection Lord 
Germillon bad placed hor — would shield her from iUentJBcation with 
her husband's rovolutionflry achemes, whatever they might be. 

Eoorjkli was in the gallery too, but she was ia a very different mooil 
fhim Lady Betty. Scorn of Ihe aJJcuaations against Morac, unswerving 
fiiith in him, the desperate longing of n lovin;; woman to be near Liiii, 
la see how he would comiwrt liimseH in the face of his enemies, 

Grhapa a. ^nt subtle hope that he might koow she was there, that 
r sympathy might somohow reach him — all worked within liar><| 
She was iwld with nervous excitement. As she sat in her place, Hji^ 



"A SCENE IN THE HOUSE." 

. hands clasped tightly together, herejas beotdownwafda, d 

could hear her onrn heart boating. 

Lord Germilion, b. Email, whit«-haired old man, with a very e 
cmiriage and bia daughter's bright dark eyes, had got a scat among 
peas. Lord Forrest, who had hardly ever eeea the House of Couita 
heibni CKina down that evertiaz, and was shown by his son where K 
how to find a phce. Mr. Paulton, the American Minister, was in I 
Ambassidors' Gallary, aide by side with the young Envoy tram t 
great foreign State presumed to he England's enemy, tbs y 
Knvoy whom Cricbton Kenway saw in deep conversation with £ 
■t Lady Betty's party. In the mysterious caves of ^kilus, boD 
the flooring, where the process of ventilation is carried on, many e1 
Kways, if one might thus doacribe various influential and privilegrf 
pcRonB, were sheltered, Hnd found that they could henr, with iiuit« 
surprising cleamesa, what was going on over their beads, 

Uoree took hia seat on the Opposition side, below the gangway. A 
low murmur went round the Uotise as he entered. There was no 
" demonstmtion ; " hia own side of the House received him in abaolule 
nlenoe. One or two men leaned out of their places and shook bands 
with him. He waa evidently very unpopular with the Liberal party 
generally, and the Tories were furious Against him. Tbe House was 
gtdng throuich its list of questiona when Morse came in. How slow 
and stupid all the questions and answers seemed t« the listeners gene- 
rally, to the ladiea in tbe gallery for instance I Row tantalii^ing the 
manner in which every questioning member refused to be content 
with oni? answer, and persisted in putting further question upon 
queation I Uow can any one have the face or ihe heart to interpose 
wKh such trumpery matter at such a time? See, there is Mr. Morse 
getting up and walking deliberately out of tbe House 1 la he really 
going away for the evening ? W ill he not return ? Are we not to 
have our scene after all ? The thought was poaltirely maddening. 
It disturbed more than the occupants of the Ladies' Gallery. Through 
all the galleries and through the House itself ran tile wildHre alarm of 
anticipated disappointmert; the dread that the anxious suhjoct was 
for some reason or other not to be raised, and that the House would in 
due course proceed, uninierrupted, WJth its ordinary busiuesa. 

Then a sudden and a euilouB ctianga earao over the minds of the 
■peolatore. A few m'^meuts ago every one wag longing to have the 
qu«slioiiB cut short. Now, every one wanted to have that oxpandod, 
iterated, muliiplied. If tbe questions ware suddenly to collapse, Iho 
House mi-^ht at any moment find itielf plungod into its regular routine 
of biuiness, and once in it could not get out ngnin, and tha antici[iated 
"Morse incident" could nothappan that evening, and the scene n"|^^ 
bjcing place that evening woulU probably not take place at ^^H 
BesidM, how could one count on getting a scat auywhero to-mona^| 
erecing? In many a breast, beneath fmck coat aud boilioe alike, d^H 

■ty began to swell to something not far from n^ony. ^^| 

leap sense of relief suddenly passed through the Uonsa. Mc^^H 



^^ 



"r//£ RIGHT HONOURABLE. 

I returned to li!s pUoe. Tbo expected scone, therefcre, ' 

doomod 10 go by defnult. If tlie Minisiorialist who was understood to 
bare Inkeu the niatlvc in liand should jiersovere in his purpose, tbera 
tru DO rcuoD why the Uoubb ahoold be disappointed. Is tb» 
Hlaiitcrialist in his place ? Yes ; there he is, Sir Roderick Fathom, \ 
td!, Kpnre, white-whiskered, couatry geDtlGmsn of the highest respoo- 
tabilily in iiis ooosly and in tlie House, who Imd hitherto distlngiUNbeil 
himself b; his unbending Toryisia and his unceasing interest fu tirt 
qumtioa of the u.iU duties and of local taxation. 

At length the hst of printed questions U exhausted. About t 
tbouisnd pairs of eyes, nnmy beaming through spectacles, are tunirf 
to Sir Bodedck Fathom. But, \a\ instead of hie rising, a leadiag 
member of the Oppositioii on the front bench got up and blindl}' 
h<^ged leare to ask the Chancellor of the Exctiequer whether it wti 
the intention of the Government this aession to bring in ftny hill to 
de&l with the question of ihe duties on foreign leather. The Chanoellof 
of the Eichrquer made answer that the Govommeot wore giving tbt 
subject their beat consideration, and wtmld be in a position to inforoi 
the House at a liter pericd. It was yet very early in the session, eu^ 
eta Qaeations with which a GoTeratnent does not particularly care 10 
deal are always in one of two stages. It is tiio early in I' 
do anything with tliem or it is too lat«. Anyhow, that is . 
and DOW for the scene. Ko; an independent memberoftheOpposid 
sitiin,; below tbc gangway gets u[> and puts a quesiion about furn 
puhcy and the recent news from the East. This, too, had to bepuHd 
evaded. Now, surely. Fathom is going fo get up 1 Not he ; 
sitting next to him rises witli boidq other extemporized questiui 
when he sits down, and the Speaker, previously made awnrs of <f 
is to come, positively lootis towards Sir lioderick Fathom, that gen 
man is so closely engaged in convarsatiou with one of the Goverunl 
wliips who has come up behind him, that ba almost loses the Oj 
tunily at length ^ilaced within his reach. But he does spring ti 
feat before the time has quite gone, and the Speaker, pointing to H 
calls out, "Sir Roderick Fathom," and everyone, relievedandcontenB 
Battles down to listen, T 

To the ladies in the gallery, or most of them, and to uninitiq 
male strangers. Sir Roderiok'a is a queer and a mtiatiingless perfori 
when he does get up. He is heard to mumble gomoLhing 

"urgent public importance," and then he goes up to the table just 

front of the Speaker's chair aod he deposits a scra]i of paper there, and 
he hurries, or indeed scuttles, back to his place. What ba has done is 
this : he has asked for leave to move that the Eoueo do now adjourn 
in ordor that-he may obtain an opportunity of discussing "adefin" 
matter of urgent publio importance." It is one of the plensant ij 
practical ways of the House of Commons not to do anything directlji 
after the fjishion which any sane man would adopt of his otvn ftcaf 
Under the neiv rules of the House, if a man wishes to call attentioq 
soma urgent public matter which has Buddcnly come up and \» i 



s done is 
r adjourn 
1 dofii^j^ 

entio^^H 



down for discussion on that pnrticular Aay, he is not ftllowc<1 to uy out 
like a rational creature thnt he wishes to diBcnss this question, and uslc 
tba pennisdan of tha Uouso to discuss it. He has to profess a desire 
br the iostaut ttdjouniinent of the Uouxe, which ho does not want ; 
W^h nohodj i^aats or thinks of grantinit ; which ho wants loaut of 
atli because if lie ie ansioui to bnT« a certain subject dcliBt«d at once, 
it is evident that it caanoC bo debated if ths House incontinently 
breaks up. But if he is allowed to move the sdjoumnient lie can, 
hy virtue and favour of that technical motion, bring up the question lie 
Wishes to ha?e discussed, and when all has been said that he wants 
to uy or to henr, he can ivitbdraw hia motion for the adjournment of 
the House, and there is an end of the matter. If there be any one of 
tlie uuBBtislied who doee not iwlmire the practical wisdom amliodictl in 
tiiis Ibrm Cif proceeding, and who does not see how absolutely necessary 
it is that a man should pretend to want soinothlng lie does uot want 
in order to obtain pormiasion to aek lor somi-tliing he does wnnt, then 
Uiat sceptiral creature would in a post age have failed to see the ii iitdom 
whic^ inspired the law courts with the invention of John Doe and 
Bi<^ard &je. 

However, in order to get permission to move the mijournme"', Sir 
Boderiirk has under the rules to obtun the support of not luau thau 
forty members. "Not less than forty members," so declarca the iuIp, 
"shall thereupon rise in their places to supi'ort the motion." The 
Sptfoker invites the Rouse to subject Sir Roderick and his motion to 
this test; and the wondering strangers see nearly all the members 
suddenly jump to their feet and stand up, and after a second or so 
[Auinp down ^nin. The whole House, or nearly ao, wanted the scene 
and the personal expbnation, and therefore it rose pretty much as one 
nsD, and tliOQ as one man sat down again. Morse mm»elf was one of 
the first to rise. The Speaker pwnted to Sir Roderick Fathom. That 
■nddenly consjiictioits personage got up for the third time. And now 
for tho icene at last. 

ffir Eodericfc began by asking whether Her Mujosty's GovornniODt 
IwdkOy information to offer with regard to a subject which bad excited 
tiia profoundeat public interest He alluded to certam statements 
nude by a well-known evening journal, containing the gravest and 
most important charges against a very distinguiahed member ot thai 
hoDOnrHblu House — one who hnd held a high pwiiioo in the lats 
Administration ; he referred to the right honourable gentleman the 
member for WhittleBlown, whom lie saw now in his place ; whether 
the Government coidd say If the allegations were true, and whether, 
if BO, they had any communication to make lo the House as to any 
Slftpa they intended to take. Then Sir Roderick sat down, glad that 
his task was over, but 6osbed with the conviction that the eyes of 
Biiropc were on him. 

Before any one else could move, Lon! Arden leaped to his feet, and 
begged to ask, in the Srat instance, whether the honourable biironet 
woo had just sat down bad, in acoordance with the rniea of courtesy 



iTD 'THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

imullf kilopted in that House, gJYen tiotloe to "idj right hoaourxbie 
frtood, lli« mcBiber fiv Whittlcst^iwn,'' <•( bis intention to put such ft 

SQMtion- l/atA Ardea eiDphuixcd tbo words " my right honnunbla 
tiwl." KoorUl tcmarkei) this. Her beart leaped to Lord ArdeQ aa 
bs (tood up, liis itigbt figure looking so manly and dignified, his i^met 
■namter contnstlDg so effectively with tiie hriglit fiaah in his eyea. 
Uidy Betty, too, Iclt a thrill of pleaaure aod relief, Since one of ber 
own pcoplo stood by Morse surely there could not bo anything realty 
wrouK* And he ^vould deny the charg>i in a moment. Site knew he j 
would deny ib She oould iinap:ioe the glon of indignation which 
wguld traoaflgura hia imiiassive Eaee. She might foal proud of her 
huabaiid one* more. 

Lord Anion'* phrase was noticed hy others, too, who knew that ' 
Arden liud neter pri>fej^ any particular liking fur Morse, isa 
Itoderiv'ki half riwog, f«id limt he hati given the usunl notice, and 
Hone aasBOtoil by aiymg " Hear, hoar I " 

iCow then, who is [o get up aextV Morae? Eooiilli fiilly expected 
tn (M liim s{>riiig to tiia feet, Ue did not move. The leader of tli« 
Uuvcmiucnl looked across to him, as if to ask him whether he was nol ' 
about to rise ; and, seeing him motionless, got up himself and, amid « 
brealhloai aiknce, I«gan to speak. Koor^li's heart beat; abo I'eltaslf 
all hor uorres were utraireil out of their places. She sat motionlesa— 
waiting. The loader of the Govtmmeat had not much to say. Hs 
had uot risen at once, he said, because he thought the right honour- 
able gentleman, the member for Whiitlestown, might desire to seiza 
the first opportunity of olTuiing soma explinittion to the House. A* ha 
had not yot duue ao, he, the leader of the Government, could only say 
that Uer Majtwty'a Ministera had really uo informntion on the subject 
beyond that which was within the reach of every memb«r of the Hoosb 
They hod scon — of course with amazement and with incredulity — ha 
was bound to any with iucrodutity — the assarliona made and rejieated 
so positively in a certain evening newspaper, but he knew nuthing of 
tha matter, and doubtless the right honourable gentleman ojijiosiie 
would be prci^red to make a satisfactory statement to the Uou*a> | 
E'er the present the Government had nothing more to say. So h& J^k 
down, having blnikdly mndo the matter as diangreenblo for Morae a^^H 
well could do. ^^^1 

A moment's pnuse, and then Mr. Fontaine rose, having 6rat glR^^^| 
at Morse, apparently to see whether ho was about to get up. ^^H| 
liontaine was perhajA the only man in tha Hou:e whom momberfc ' 
impatient for Morse's explnimlion, would just then have consented to 
hear. The House woulil always listen to Mr. Fontaine, in tlie convio* 
tion that whenever he epoko, something odd, original, and amusing 
was sure to ha uttered. Mr, Fontaine was a man of good family, St 
Huguenot ancestry, and of large private fortune. He night have had 
a great political career if he wore not too indolent for work and too 
careless of fame. He loved to be amused, and was pleased with ■ 
manner of escitcment and novelty. He went in for Stock Esdi 




« now and tbon, for the sake of the amuaemsnt it guvo 
in was iaiereiititig, to toM whs even more inlerestiny; «till, 
Ik nan of deep coDTiclic>D», but he delighted in puzzling dul 
Bd nabiDg aerinus folk believe that he wna onl^ a cynic ai ' 
. Ea had a wenkcess for every weak cause ; and just n 
"i Horse in a very dangeroaa position, and he reBolvcd U 
— cue. It aeemcd to him likely enough that MiitBe might 
I little ID democratic conspiracy. Why not? A tnanj 
B and spiiit wanta to get all he can out of Hie, and Uorw n ' 
naturally enough like 1^ experience the Bensation of heing a ni 
century ccnapirator. Ur. t'ontiuQC thought neither c 
him on that account. 

FcmUina began hia speech in n slow, nicasured, drawling lone, for s 
whllekeepiag down almost to a whisper his strong Btidsomewhnt harsh 
Toice. He protested, he said, against the pohlic time being tnken up 
with inquiries into what this, that, and the other public man had been 
ddog while he was out of office. He did not know whether Ihe right 
honourable gentleman, the member fur Whittlestown, had dnllied with 
aocialistic conspiracy or not, and he really did not care. If ho had 
done M hs bad only done just wheit any other man would linve dons 
in fals place, if he thought he had anything to fain by it. Did Her 
Uajeety's present advisers pretend to say that they had not coquetted 
Widi ccnapiracy when they were out of office and wanted to get in? 
Was there a really dangerous conspirator in Europe with whom they 
had not pocked cards? There wore loud cries of "Oh, oh I" and 
*'Order"from the Ministerial benches, especially at this lost expreuion. 
" Honourable members seem to be much offended at my words. I wish 
they would read their Shakespeara a little — those of the Conservative 
l«rty who can read. ("Oh, oh I") Well.l suppose some of them can 
r«kd. 'The phrase is Shakcspeare'a, and not ill-applied.' I am quoting 
again, Mr. Speaker; quoting from Byron this timoi Tes, I say they 
packed cards ngain and again with the vilest conspirators in Europe I " 
Shouts of anger and surprise now came fmra the Conservative benches 
— sincere surprise, for it waa well known that the present Adminiatra- 
tion waa composed of men who detested all popular movementa at 
home and abroad. "Tes; the vilest conapiratora in Burojiel Tliera 
are conspiratora with crowns, as well as conspirators without half a 
crown; there are conspirators against liberty, as well aa conspirntor* 
agunat despotism ; and the conspiratora against liberty are the worst 
enemiea of the human race. There is not a crowned conspirafnr on 
tha continent of Europe with whom Her Majesty's preaeut mWisera 
have not packed cards; and all the clamour we hoar almut war ia 
aimply got up because one of their confederates has got the bettor of 
them, lie was clever and they were dull, and ho took them in, and 
now they lose their temper." Various voices interpoaci with cries of 
"Question, question," "I am atioking to the quoatiun very diwelTl™ 
much more closely than gentlemen on the Treasury Ix'ncli would lilfc-^ 
The question is that the House do now adjourn, and I iiu['|iort tf' 



173 '^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

motiun Xf» adjonrnmont on tbo gccrand that wo ate aimpl; waaCini 
thne, nnd ahonJDg ouHclvci to ti« byi>ocritea by prelending tbut we 
don't nmke c»ery ii«e wo can ot coQ8]iiracy aiiil cuiiEpiralora nlwiiBvijt 
it SuiU our political ends. I turn my eyea lo tbe Treasury b«D^ 
and [ R«to a ruw of coosinnitora there. 1 look to the front Umoliuf 
OpposUliin, aod 1 eoo a rivnl row of conspirators liicre, cmspirBton oi 
ft dilffrent kind. 1 ti<ik below tlie gnngway, and 1 boo one parttculat r 
right honourable pontlcman eingled out to be accused of tampering I 
with coOBpimcy. 1 any it is RQeotation, abaurdity, political hypocri^ ; 
and 1 boiw the Iloiiae will make up its miisd either to adjouia at onct 
— itno dvc, I would suggeitt — or tu gut on with its busiueas — if it hM 
Btiy bunine&s to do." 

Mr. Fontaine resumed bis scat, hnviog done a good deal lo depriro 
(ho wlio-e incident of its tnelodraTuatic cbarncter, aod %\re\\, as ha 
thought, a chance to Morse 0I letting the thing drop without a word. 
Ilio House, howerer, had noiulentionof being balked of its explanftUon. 

There were tnultltudio^jiis cries of "Mnrse, Morse!"— mid Hono, 
having quietly looked round iind siitisfled hinisetf that no one else was 
anxious to interpose, got up anil addressed iiimself to Mr. Sp^er. 
Kvcry eye was turned on him ; every car was Btrnined to hear what he 
might say. The stillness as he rose was somolhintt op:[)re9aive. Qoetha 
S]«akE) in a fine lioe of "darkness with its myriad eyes;'' iisa not 
silence sometimes its myriad voices which shrill in tbe paiocd ear* of 
the listener? 

Mcrso began in n clear, composed tone, audible all over the Bouse. 
It had not been bis intention, he said, to notice anonymous char^ 
made in a newspaper. He was not fond of lbs practice of defendiii^ 
himself ngnitist anything that might be said of him outside the walla 
of that House. But when a questiou had been raised in that Houee 
he felt bound to answer it or, at least, to say why be could not answer 
it> Tliere were two charges mnd>e against him. One was that be hnd 
entered into some plot or organization having for its object to set OMde 
the Euccesaion at the close of the present reign in England, and to 
establish a republic. On that Bubject he hnd to say that he had 
entered into no such plot, and never, nntil within the Inst day or two, 
hrard t^iat there was any such organization in e}:iBtcnce. I'he House 
broke into one unaniroous cheer when Morse had finished his sentence. 
He wnitcd composedly, and then went on: "I have answered that 
question bocauso I think it entitled to an answer. A man might irolL 
be a patriot and a man of honour, and yet drrara of eitablir*-'— ■^ 
republic in Ihis country." He reared bis head sliglitiy as be _^ 
and looked round the House. It was said afterwards thAt then 
defisQCB in the look. The applause turned into an almost geD___ 
roar of indignation. Morao waited again. Tbe roar deepened and 
strength encd. 

LaH)^ Butty's fane grew whiter She looked with a horror-stricken 
expression at her companicia, who pressed her hnnd in sympathy. 
Lord Germilion, in his corner of tlio Teers' Galiory groaned UB^ 



rortr of iKe roar, and bit his mouBtaclio fiercely. If a mnn !■ capibin 
(if owning liimself n republicna in tlie Uuusa or Commous itaill', mny 
■I not be prmtiRied that he is also CApabla of abetting a coaspinicy V 
Koorili felt her liams relax under the stress. Sha sbiriMnl witli 
neiTous excitement. It i« a thrilling eight, even fur the uncunacnioH 
ttnaget, to ses a resolute man stfLod up alone against the paEnioDate 
HuQSS of Commons in one of its ficroo, unfiovorniible moods. 
whjdid he say that'/" some vuicea in the House iiacir ae veil as, 
the Ladies' Gallery ware beard to ask. " Why act tho House 
hitn?" "True and noble heart," Kootili lhouj[bt,"thKt hidoe 
finmere policy, and fears nothing eoinucli ob untruth." "'ITicy wi 
Unteo to anocher word from bim," was the conviction of many aa 
fibserver. Bnt Morse knew bis audience; he know that ihe Hni>»e of 
Commona woidd listen, because there was slill much eurioaity as to 
Ihe further aniwers ho might luive to make. So be began again after 
n while, nnd the Huuse, cbaBng furiously, did not want to lose a W(~*' 
uf what he mi^ht say, and eo choked itself and listened. 

""Therefore, Mr. Speaker," he went on, "I have answered 
question, and aave lold tbe House that although I am in p>inci| 
republican, and believe the republican form of eovernment to bo 
niited for tills country'' — beio there was another outburst of frenzy 
and noise; Morse waited, and Ibn got his chauce agaio — " I bnvc no 
heaitalion in saying that I never belonged to any organization having 
for its object any disturbunc^ of the condition of tblngs wliich tht 
far seems to be satisfiictor; to ibe majority of tho English people." 

There was some faint applause ; there was some grumbling of 
there were some ironical cheers, aa of men who would sny, "1 
and verily, you are considerate of our ftnclent institutions." 

"The nest accusation agninst me," Morae said, "ia of a different 
"tder. I am accused, as I understand It, of having employed foreign 
i^nts and used the money of an unfriendly foreign Sute tu get up a 
disturbance in this country which ehould weaken Kngland on the eve 
of a atniggle with the foreign State which sent tlie agents and paid 
the monty. Mr. Speakor, I am the representative of an English 
Ctmstitucncy ; as such I am entitled to be considered an English gentle- 
man. I Bbonld claim that title all the same wore I working with my 
Awn hands for daily wa^'es, as some of the most respected and honoured 
menibera of this House have done or, perlmpi, ate still doing; and I 
hftve nothing nhalever to say about the charge wliich has been brought 
■gainst me." 

ITien Morse paused, and tbe House drew a deep breath. The Houso 
was puzzled. Lord Arden and a few other men calleil n loud and 
emphatic " Hear, hear I " But there wore murmurs of dissntisCicUon, 
of Burptise ; there was a want of understanding in the House as tu 
what Morse nctually meant A French assembly would hove unden- 
atood in a moment, and even enemies would have broken out ir"*" 
peals of applause. But tho intelligence of the House of Commons 
littlestiETlu tbe trigger. 



■4 





"^^m^ 



J74 T/fE RIGHT HONOURABLE^ 

Thra midilenly, u thoiigb bjr common ocniarat, the roar broke forth 
itfpun. llio House of Cammons, it bu been Mid, baa more wiadoai 
tiuui Any one ni«niber of it. Very likely; but tbeo the Uotue of 
CommDUK at limea hM much leas wisJom and far more passion and 
wrath tlian any one member of iL Any one member of the HoUBe ol 
Commona, were he the dullest or th« most light-headed, would luva i 
gircD bimBcir time coougb and eomiuaiidod im temper Bufiicicotly V> ! 
htar and undcretand what Morse had to say, provided that oce member ' 
wen Morse's whole audience. But a numlier of fairly reasonahle and ' 
ordsrl^ niBD seems, when brought together and packed into a room, 
to |«oduce a crowd r>f unreasonable and disorderly brawlers. So it 
certunty proved on this occosbn. The House lost ita head. Several j 
hundred throats sent out thdr furious voit^es in one roar of passion, 
Morse stood quietly and waited. £vcn when speaking he used but 
little gesture. Now he Etood erect and unmoved as a graven image. 
Uis face, indeed, hod something of the statueequo rigidity of brome. 
Itufe or twiuo a slight smile was beginning to show itself on tho 
Napoleonic lestures; nnd then the rigidity returned. Hia mauner bid 
in it nothing of defiance, nothing even of conSict ; he was merelj 
independent and sclf-suetained. The Speaker several times called for 
order; hut Canute might as well have bidden the sea to still its noiM 
while it WHS breakin;; on the beach. The pa^ioaate throats could not 
be Testr«ined. Crichton Konway, in one of the seats in the gallery, 
was chuckling with delight; hia wife, in the Ladies' Gallery, was 
biiming with shame. 

At last tho storm subsided. The lull was permitted because several 
ineSectiinl attempts on the part of Sir Rodericic Fathom to addre» 
the House show«i that there was more still to stimulate wrath and 
curiority. But Sir Bodetick, now that he was allowed to get a word 
in, only half rose from hia seat, and taking off his hat asked, "Do I 
understand the right honourable gentlcmnn to deny the charge V To 
do the honest country gcntlemBn justice, he only wished to give Morse 
a chance of mnking his denial emphatic and explicit enough fur the 
intelligence of the House of Cummous. 

Morse, of ooursr, bad sat down and put on bis hat the moment Sir 
Itoderiek interposed, When Sir liodorick's questiun was finished, be 
look off his hat, rose to his feet, and answered in the cnlmost tones — 

" Certnioly not. I'o a charge like that I have no answer to make. 
If any of my countrymen chooses to believe it of me, he is welcome to 
do so; no word spoken by me shall ever come between him and his 
belief. I have lo thank the House, Mr. Sjjeaker, for the courtesy with 
which they have listened to the few witrds 1 had to say." 

The House remained absolutely silent when Morss snt down. It 
was utterly puszlcd. After ell, three out of every four meiubors wero 
commonplace respectable gentlemen upon whom any ultra-rcfinonieDt 
of sentiment was as much thrown Awny as ibe chivalry of Don Quilolo 
upon the honest landlord of the first hostelry he eritored. What auM 
men got into their minds was that Morse had distinctly said he di^ k 



Ugt A«oj tlto accusation, the worat accusation, mndo ngninat him. 'llio 
nhec ucciufltion he did explicitly den;r ; and en there wns on end ol 
that. The IIimK of Coroiaoca, to do it justice, iUwsj'b takes it miui'i 
word. But why not deny the other charge rm well ? To the onliaary 
BogUBh country gentlumiiD or the ordroary Koglish bank director, au 
attempt to set aside the Bucceseion. and eBtabli:ib a republic in England 
would be about as heinous a crime as man could poaubly commit 
Tha man wlio would do that would do anything. Why should nut 
snofa B man lake foreign gold to hire asaassine to ttab England in tbu 
back at her time of uttermost danger? One crinio was no worse than 
the other. Why, then, Blioiild a man, if he were guiltless of oither, 
deny tha one clmrge and say bu would not deny the other ? Almost 
incredibia ns it may seem, ibe f ict is that tbi^ great majority of the 
House of Commons believed that Morse rGfuaed to disavow llie worst 
of the crimes ascribed to bim been use ho felt that he could not disavow 
ft. For the HotiBe bad simply lost its wits. A day or two after, 
when the truth became clearly knpwu, the dullest «([uiro or city man 
wondered how he bad liiiled to understand Morii'i rightly, and wm 
■orty for the failure, and felt asljamod and pobitont. But for tlie 
moment there was a misunderstanding, and the inajoiity of membei's 
actually roared and howled with fury against Morte, as he rose cum- 
posedly, and, bowing to the Speaker, left his place and walked down 
■ he floor. A little crowd of members who could not fiud scats on ihe 
benches of ihc House stood billow Ibu bar and blocked the way. Morse 
hod to paei through ibem. Many of them glared ficroely at liim, and 
tiwrs were murmurs and grumbles of wrath. Morse blandly apologized 
for having to crush his way through them. All the time the furious 
autciy of the majoriiy of the House was ringing io his ears. Suddenly 
Lord Arden appeared among the iittla crowd at the lur, and held out 
bis band. 

" My dear Morse, how delighted I am I You said and did just tbo 
light tbtog. Ueny a blackguard cliargu like that, miido liy some 
nameleas scoundril? Br Jove, I woull as soou deny a cliarga of 
^ckinf; old Roderick Fathom's pocket] I congratulate you. Let the 
eunfoaDded fooU there bowl as much aa they like. They'll be aorry 
enough when ihey come to their seusea to-morrow." 

"They talk of our House of Beproaenta lives— our chnmber i 
' WasliingtoQ, jou know" — Mr. Paul ton said (o the youug Envoy, Y' 
neighbour in ibo Ariibassadurs' Galifry, "but I never saw sn 
■vwdyiaro there, nor such a scone as this ; nor a whole mob bowlll 
»i one man because ho refuses to degrade himself by denying a" ~ 
tageous charge." 

"That ii what yonr represeiitaliv o government oomea lo," the Envoy 
answered blandly. "In my country, thai man would be understood 
and appreciated by his sovereign, and he would not bo left to the 
miiroy of that iiowlmg mob — to use your expression — which I tbia 
is a very appropriate one." 

"1 am sorry for Mr. Morae," Paultun Bald. " From w 



ber.|^_ 

''■M 

owll^^l 

Envoy 

irstoud 

to the 

lioh I tbiafaH 

>t I kiiow.JH 

J 



876 •*THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

bim I brl'.eTe in bim and I respect bim. He ought to go out led 
Stfttiw; we Biioidd make iiinch of him tbere." i 

" 1 kiiijw bim well," the Envoy said. " Ha 19 8 patriot aiiJ a Igl 
of Ml cuuiitry. He oughtto cdidb out atid settle among ui. lie vnl 
have A cnrecT there ; our Empcrot kuuws a great man wbcn he « 
him." 

" Ab, but yours ig a deBpotisra," Mr. Tavdton obBerred, wiih a ai 

"Call it anything you like; only tell me what you call the sort rf 
thing that bits been going on lielow us for the last few minuted But, 
pttrdoti mc, you have given it a nnnie. Tou have called this a^eiiihl; 
a bowling mob. Bka — would you rather base the despotism ot » 
calm wise sovereign or that of a howliog mob ? For me, I prefer tbo 
deanot sovereign to the despot mob." 

The incident was over. The Speaker called upon the clerk td " pro- 
ceed to read the ordcra of the day ; " in other words, to go on with liba 
regular and routine business of the aitting. It was getting towarJi 
seven o'clock. It was about time to thiuk of going home and dreasios 
for dinner, Uembers hurried into the library, the raading-rootn, ftod 
the lobbies, to scratch off hnstj letters, in order to ratch the last post, 
Strangers got up and lounged away, casting parting looks on the 
emptying house. The ladies b^an to stieam, a vivacious and chatUc- 
ing crowd, out of their gallery. Koor^li and Lady Betty found tbeu- 
selvea side by side, driven together by the stream. Neither hod knovm 
before that the other was present They stopped in the lobby fur a 
moment, and looked into each other's eyes aad clasped their haada. 
Their hearts were beaLing loudly; each could hear the pulsation of hg 

own. Each woman had tears of emotion siia 

miglit surely have been supposed by any looke 
were in absolute sympathy. 

" Dear, dear Lady Butty ! " Koorlli exclaimed. 

" Oh, Mrs. Kenway 1 lis it not terrible 't You heard— 

" Oh yes, I heard." 

" How tlicy all hate him I " 

" Yps. What cowards some men are I " 

"He did not deny it," Lady Betty said, with a sob. 

" Deny it 1 "' KoorUi said with a flush of surprise and anger. " Of 
course he dido't deny it. Why should he? Imagine Mr. Morse — your 
husband — stooping to deny a chaise like that, made on the faith n( 
some nameless slander I " 

Lady Betty looked at her with wonder, in which there waa ft n 
of resentment. " You — don't— believe it ? " ahe asked. 

" Believe it ! ** Koorlli exclaimed. " Oh, my Godl " 

Tho exclamation was forced from her by the intensily, the a 
of hor feelings. The agony was not because of Iho public attack ^ 
upon Morae, or because of any trouble that might coma upoill 
jiarliamentary career. But the tkonght that his wife could even fl 
moment admit in her mind the possibility of such a charge heinj; H 
troo of Biich a man, (rue uf her own husband, was terrible to Ko? 



ir haada. 
jn of h^J 



] 



U . iPMIIWUI!ll||il|W(!i 

Why, it might well break evea hia braTB md strong heart if he 
locotue to know it. 

" Oh, Lsiiy iietty," she wbUpen d, in fervcut apfie*!, " if you 
■UoW'ed such an idea into jour miral, pray, prny don't ever l«( 
know cT it." 
- She spoke in low agitated tones. At that moment it was iropoi . 

to commftod l>ok or vuice. She Lad caught Liuiy Betty's band 

hen. and the iwu women stood c1o<ie toother. Suiidenly EunrAll fvll 
the hBDd.nrencbed bora her own. Lady Betty uttered a little inftiticu- 
IsUcry. 

"Obi l^'it — you— from yoa," the be:3in, and stopped. She coiilii 
not put Into woida the passion, the reproacli, the jealousy, the vciun-lei) 
prida which strept over her like a rushvns Bood. Uar va^iie dread had 
twcotne a cruEhing reality. She knew with the most intensn conviction 
that EoorMi lovrf Morse, Deep in her heart there had lain for some 
t!me the Tear that Uorse luved CoorMi. Her Blow ima^inntioD ran 
riot now. In this hour of defeat and disgrace a stUl worse humiliation 
«M to befolt her. She tamcii her eyes upon the woman preferred tn 
her with one (jiiitk soothing (IriBh of indipialion. There was in the 
lo6k more of wraih than of pais. She said not a word, 'ihe; ncie 
ported. 

KcMT&Ii htirried away. She bail not taken in the full menning of 
tint fltrxnge look. She was thinking of notliing at tirnt hut of the 
ftppallins fact that Lady Betty evidently believed there was some 
foundation for the charge ngainst Morse, " She can't love him ; she is 
not capable of loving him," Koor&ii Eft'il to herseU in gBnerous anger. 
" Ha baa no one— no one — no one to love him. Hia own wife turns 
against bini." If at this moment another thought should force itself 
iaio Eooriti's mind; if for an instant she should ullaw her heart to say 
lo ber, " Oh ! if r/ou were bis wife, how yoH would have loved him, 
And trusted him, and clung lo him, and cleaved to him at a timu like 
this I " is there any moralist so stem as to find much fault with tha 
fond and faithful Australian woman, gifted with such anunusoiJ 
of affection, tried just then by such strong templsUon ? 

At tha entrance in the courtyard. Lady Betty, when she cami 
bU flashed and agitated, found herself seized by her father. 1 
fearfuilyrx cited. 

"Coma home with tne, Betty," he said in shrill tones. "Oat il 
my carriage. Come to your talher's house, my child. You ncvor w 
liTO with that man again, A daughter of mine cau't stay under 
same roof with a seditious annrohist and an avowed enemy *~ 
sovereign and his country I " 

Lady Betty cast a wild glance at him and then at the pIfkM ' 
left. She was tremblinR with conflicting emotions, lu thai backi 
glance thero seemed something of the wife's im[iiilso to face th« - 
by her hiislwnd's side. So Lord Gcrmilion iotorprot«d it. Hi' 
on her hand tightened. At that inetant Lady Bally arain saw 
iu the thinning crowd— KoorMi, whose eyes met hers with that 



t7» "TffE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

aUadful look vhicli seemed to ImAy Betty, ia this momt 
ftod buniiliation, the look of a triomjihant rivaL 

"Wliatshallldo? What can I do?" she asked in 
whisper. " Ue di:ei not love me uiy more. It is Dot for my opmim 
tital ha oares. I^rerything is changed between us." 

•■ liow could it be otherwise ? lou— my daughter — your inGliQuta 
— your training, did not fit you to be the wife of auch a man as lie," 

Lord GBimiiion was iutonsely moved. The vrounded pride, tilt 
anger agunst Uurse, the deep tendemesB for bar which showed in hli 
bee were in a strange contr.idlct iry w»y a stimulant and a comfort ta 
Lady Betty. Here she was uodetstood and prized. She was justiStd 
ia her own sight Here was a haven, a strong arm of support, Onlr 
the stress of great emotion could have ma3e her confess, even to b« 
father, that she hod lost hor huaband's love. But now it seemed to 
her that t'le'C two — &ther and daughter, of the same race and ordtr, 
stricken in like manner — must needs cUug to and uphold e.ich oUier. 
She heul always heeu nioraor leas pliable in his hands. She hwl always 
fuUowcd hij advice and leannl on hia judgment. She suffered him lo 
lend het to hie carriage— her own was in waiting, hut Lord Germilion 
vnved the footman away. There was no time fur argument, nor vnl 
Lady Uetty capable of it. Her mind was in too greHt a tumult. She 
I bud, indeed, a frenzied longing that Morse should know nt once te 

I what he had brought himself and her. He should see that the people 

she belon^eii to would not allow Iter to be outraged, but would protect 
I' their own, She got into the carringe. There was a little delay. 

1 Lord Germilion gave the order to his house — Dot to hers, Lady Betty 

; leaned back and burst into a flood of tears. He tenderly pressed her 

I. hands. 

'1 " Your plnce is with me," be said. " Your huBbitml must oles' 

r himself of this shameful accuantiun and show that he h;i9 no [lart ia 

I treason «id conspiracy befoi'e be ventures to oWm hia wife from bai 

I' father." 

t Just then Lord Arden caiae to the carriage window. He had hurrieil 

[ round to the entrance of the Ladies' Gallery to si>enk to Lady Betty 

aod Kooriili. Ue had seen the agitation of Lady Betty, and he had 
heard some of the words spoken by Lord QermiLion. He knew that 
the movement was critical, and that if Lady Betty left hep husband 
now she might all her life regret the step. He pressed forward. 

"Ijady Betty," he excliumed, " I want to speak to you. I shall &j 
you at home later ? " 

"No," Lord Germilion interrupted harshly. "Lady Betty is 
ta my house. She will not return to her own yel-— not till itlfij 
matter is cleared — if it can be cleHrni. My daughter is not a repute 
She will not have any dealings wHh anaichifits who plot against thdll'i J 
sovereign and their country." 

Arden burst into an angry laugb. " Gi>od heavens I " he exclaimed. 
"You don't believe that? Oh, Lady Hetty," he cried imploi' * 
•'aitfely, sureiy " 



lit IhcKi .1 
ckifaed. 



But t!a voice was lost The borneB made a rooTernent forward m 
Vie block gave way, nnd Lord Oermilion, anaoyeJ at iht: ictuuii 
Ud anxious to spare bit daughter, gave the order to drive un. 



CHAPTER SXXIV. " 

CBICHTOS'S HETENQB. 

At tlio door of the Lftdies' Gftiiery KoorSli [oiiod Kenwajr mlting for 
.. ._ i'i. ^j^ ^^g g glitter in his eyes which il hurt her to see. Ilis 
fluabod. 'iliere waa aunietliing atrange sod iaexprcsBibly 
diitultful to her in hiR took and m&iiDer. As he came near her and 
drew her rather roughly out of the crowd towards the carriage, aha 
noticed about liim a aickly atnell of spirits— which, indeed, she hod 
remvked more than once of late. Kenwaj, falrty abstemious when 
tfic- world was going wull with him, occasionally aliowid his coarser 
tendencies to get the better of him tvhen he was troubled and, as be 
expressed it, " down on his luck." Just now, however, he seemed in 
esulution. Ue said nothing untlL tbcy were in the brougham, driving 
homettard. 

"Well, there has been a jolly row downstairs," was his first remark. 

Koorili was too much tHfcen up with her own emotinns to notice the 
form of his comment. She felt so strongly that words seemed forced 
from her ; ihe had to stieok even to him. 

" Cricbton," she naid in a kind of awe-slricken tone, "do you know 
— would yon ever imagine it? — I tfaiok Lady Betty Morse bclieTe* 
that abocking caiuinny against her huabaud. Tea; 1 am afraid aha 
doM. Bbo almost said so 1 " 

'Does lihe, really V Dy Jove, I sho'ild n't have ex[iccted that! I 
.. .. devilifib glad to hear it. Il>iw like a man's wife— to lielleve atiy- 
thiog against her husband! 1 am so glad. Well, Eooi'ili, 1 think 
' b»v« fiad my turn out of him — and out of you too, old girl! I have 

nde your friend Morse ait up a bit. I told you I w»u!d have my 
rerenge; and I have hnd it! He'll never get over Ibis. He ' ' ' 
hia day ; this is tny day." 

KowUi tuTDed euid all ovi-r. Sha felt her flesh creep. She Htarod 
at bar chuckling husband. 

" Tour day — your revenge ? Cricbton 1 what do you niisau ? " 

" I mean what I say, 1 have had my revenge." 

Koor&li did nut answer him or say another word while tliey 
driving homi'. Sho reiiminod in silence, not even looking at biia. 
She had a perception somehow that his eyes were fiKid on her, ami 
ihftt be waa enjoying what ha conceived to ba a triumph over her, 
She gazed steailfii&dy out of the carriage window as they wore drlveu 



I 



1 



throujiih the lighted streets. A light shower of uiow had l>«iguii 
and the air was [dercliigly cold. It -was the first snow of the wi 
thu first snow Koorili bod ever seen ; but theto was very Uttlu u 




Ito 'TJIE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 

feL Let lier Xun «» loog as slie m&j sbc » ill never foi^t tli&t eburt 
dliva bvuio; nor the luuk of their house a^ [hey oaina to it; not 
Kcnwaj'a uinnuer of forninl and put-oD jKilJtetieia as be oRereil to bdp 
bsr out of tliu cAriingu. She ran uprsCaira sniitij before him. Thoj 
wvre eDgn!;cd to dine out this ereuicg \ nnd it was getting Inta nlccail;. 

"About lim<.< to dress. KoorUI," Cnchton said, pausing at the door 
of the room. " Look at the clock." 

Ilis itrange mnnner, «o oomp»Hed and yet so malignant, gave h.'i 
miserable feeling of drewl and abeulate insecurity. Atid yet ebs 1 
the instinct of liattle; she seeni'ed to knonr that the criais oX her ( 
had come, and that ufter Ihb there could be no baJf-CDeAsurea. She W 
an impulse to denounce bim as traitor and liar. But the very sUengll) 
of her KUKpiciun horrified lier. She clung to the last sLred iif fiiith. 

" Crichton," she said, turning to bim, " Crichlon — my hiMboml *— 
she seemed lo use tkcse words for her own nake, to herself, to reaiiw! 
bet tlist after all he was ber husband, nn<l was entitled to at laut i 
chance of clearing himself in her mind — " is there any rtal meaning iu 
what you Miid? Uuve you anything to do with this attack un Hi, 
Morse? Do you know anything about it? Oh, you dun't; Ian 
sure you don't I Tell me I'* 

Ilq came into the room as she npoke, and closi^ the door behind 
biro. A bright lire was burning on the hearth. He went towsrilfB 
nnd sinod being ber. 3t 

"Of course I know all about it. 'I'he wLok thing is mydoiosli 
don't mind your knowing it; not one bit. 1 wuuld ratlter ytxt U' 
know it; and at once. It will tench you, Koor^li, that I am a roalLi 
my wonl ; it will let you know t Imt 1 am not a person to be plnyed 
with or fooled. I mean what 1 say, and when I ihrealcn, I stiike, 
That's about it." 

"But 1 don't understand," Koorili Bald, with a stony calmii«« 
that might have surprised herself. "What have you lo do wiih it? 
What have you done? Please, Criehtoo, lell mo in plain words. I 
am very stu])id — you have often Eaid ro — 1 can't guess things or exiilnin 
mysterioua hints. Wbtit have you done?" 

" I'll make it plain enough," he answered with a laugh. " It wns I 
who supplied the information to the fKaxdtily Goiettt ; it was I who 
wrote the letters; it was 1 who persuaded the editor to back them up. 
Alone I did it, Koorfilii That whs my revenge ) " 

" Revenge ! " she cried. " For what ? Crichton, do you mean that 
it was you who made this ohargs against Ur. Morse ; against our Iwuu- 
factor; agiiinst our one only friendV" 

" Benefactor be hanged I He hs>n't been much of a benefsctfir to 
me. lie kept me hnnging on in ex)Aeclatii>n imtii I am pretty well 
ruined; and then he thruws up the whole thing, and forces on me thi-l 
Fnmesia appointment, which I hate. I don't )( now how far he has 
been a binefaolor to you. You know your own nfioiri best, I aupppHk/ 
I 8|)ettk for myself." — '-^~' 



" It rraa you who got up this charge againal Mt. Murso ? 
■gain. 

"■ Why, certainly. Haven't I told jou that it was my rovengo ? ' 
WOold never h*ve been, heard of but for me, I have been pipe-kyM 
as the AmericBna say, for it this long titae. J began keeptDi »n *( 
un your friend's movements long ago, thinking it might be well tuft 
ont sometliing — to have aometbing in roadincas. The very firat n , 
ttwt we dined at his house, I fuJiowed your immaculate hero I 
toeetinf; of socialists and foreign Bpies. I waileil outeido the lio 
ftnd saw him walk away. I spotted him in the company of i. 
very men who provoked the riots." 

" Do you believe the story — youiself ?** 

" Why not? Why shouldn't it bo tma? You heard what Lo si 

)i] didn't bear Mm deny it, did you ? " 

"If soma one were to accuse yuu of forcing a cheque or swindliq 
WMild you deny it, Criohton ? " 

"Of coorsB I should. All the niore loudly and readily, I daro M 
if the cbsrsie h.ippened to be tnie." 

* Well, I aabed jou a quattion, Criohlon. Do you belio' 

"That doesn't matter. The House of Commons believed it; 

antry believes it." 

"Again, CtichtoD" — and she looked him fixedly in the face, i 
pupils of her eyes eiilargiui; and contracting with intense emotion 
"doynwi believe it — youraelf?" 

"Well, if you put it that way, I don't think I do. But what al 
tint! Any stick will do, you know, lo beat a dog." 

"You hncrte it isn't true, 

" Ym ; I suppose so. I fancy it isn't true. But it will smash hi 
for the moment." 

"For the momenf, perhajia. But do you suppofo there will not _ 
a nvulfion ? Do you suppose Ihat the country will not soon do hit 
jusUce? Your revengo ivill not ba a very lasting one, Criohton. But 
no tDatter " — she moved back a ste p or two, and let her arms fall with 
a (Eesturo of passionate di^'gust na if the would shake herself frea of 
dofilement — "you have done a thing which baa settled the question 
* : ever between you and mo," ■" 

"What do you mean? "he asked savagely, and lio came close 

r, H) close that she could i^ain notice the fumes of brandy in ? 
breath. Ho bad been drinking at inlervnla all day — not enough 
cloud his brain, but enough to make him no longer master of himsel 
There was a fiery gleam in his eyes, and bia voice was rough and 
harsh. 

** You have eommilted a crime as great almost aa any that 
eoaM commit. I had rather hear you confess you had done a mnrdt 
You — an Ensiish gentleman 1 " she said, in cold measured tcmos w^"'' 
fell like drops of ice-water. " Ton — followed a man whose guest 
4>8d been, who had none but kindly feelings to you and yours. 



i 




ato "^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 

•pled np"!! bis iccrcU, meaning to turn tlicm us a weapon a!Uii.Et 

And Ihnii you met liini <Jay after dsf, !LDd tiiok his hand, uhI pn- 
Undcil to bo hi* friend j and would have set jour wife to bay fivcon 
fmm him 1 " 

Alt the time Itiat shs (vbb speahin^, her eyes, clear, diluted, and faS 
■>r UDiitteraliW cciotempt, met hie ElraJ^U A. spirit of delinDM, ** 
HCOro, nt bntred, h^ liaen within her and taken ptveea^ion of b<rr m 
Sba «iu comjiletcly adrift from her innoriQ^ She caiei nut vAil 
miRht h»|>poli to her. Her words goaded him to fury. 

" Dy Oiil 1 ' he exclaimed, " I believed jon an honest woman till 
Iiuw, and now 1 km>w that you are Sandham Mm^e's mistTEas." 

Knorili fhmnk buck, putiiog up iier hniid with a quick gesture, b» 
if iho lind bten Btabbcd. Uer I'lice was u'hit« as death, her 'vei; li;« ■ 
bUncbod. I 

" Deny it " Crichton exclaimed, with a laugh which seemed to her j 
like that of a fiend or a madman, "you cannoL" ' 

In an instant ehe recovered herself, and faced l.im n^io, her smill 
form reared, lier head erect, and her eyes wide and gliKteiiiDg, not 
blenching before hiif. She let her arms fall ^ain, and they bnng 
utralght at ber sides. Something in her attitude and eipreraim 
reminded him of Uorae'e look when be Bileutly liiced hi« accusers ia 
the House. 

"1 BM," ke said, with another coarse laugh, "you take pattern fnno 
jour lover." 

"I do," she answered steadily, not lowering her gaze. "1 will not 
deny luiih a charge." 

(Jrii'htcm sprang forward and seized her arms. Ha ultored ft low, 
liecp oath. 

"If you look at me like that," he said, "I'll turn you into the 

At that moment Koorhli was hardly conscious of Crichlon's grasp, 
or of any strong feeling on her own part. She had no vivid conception 
of the situation. Sensation wax numbed, and for the time ^he hkd 
lost her reasoning faculty. Even licr maternal instinct was in abeyance. 
She waa at the white heat of emotion. She seemed to know only that 
some infiuence stronger than her own will wns fmming the words in 
her mouth, and forcing her to utter all that had been pent up dtu'ing 
years of wretchedness and self-repression. 

" Yes," she said, " put me out of your house. Strike me, if you 
please. I am not afraid of you, now that 1 know whaii you are— a 
coward, a spy, and a liar," 

Por a few seconds there was o breathless pause, like that which ia 
an encounter with a beast of prey may precede the fatal spring, Koo- 
rali felt the grasp on her arms tighten as if they were in a vice. Sbe 
thought they were Ijeing broken. Her eyes cluug with a horrible fas- 
cination to his face. Everything swam before her. She saw nothinj? 
hut those fierce reddened eyes gleaming with rage and bate. She 
thought for an instant that he would kiUber, 



Ill .",':;.-'.-..-.._ .': 

CJ}IC//rOX'S REVENGE. =83 

Suddenly the hold relaxdl eomplclC'ly. Her anns fell nerreleML 
(JrichtoQ muTcd bock a st«p or two. Siie etoggered. A BpnBatiuasf 
giddineBg and deadly aickncsa came OTor her. She did b ' ' -'- 
vhelber ehe hod fainted or not, EverylhiDg was dork fVir a 
When she became conscious agaiii shewas lenning t.piumt the gl 
) ; Knd there fiashed through her memory ati oAA, iDConwqiu 

n of Moras as he had leaned over the icBtrument and bad waton 

bw while she put together the bulrushes and daisies. AnU'theolL 
Kerned to bear the breeze rustling the reeds on llie bank of the nH 
Iiynde ! and with a swift sharp pa-ng she felt the conviction tbnt f 
would never ^ain see the sunset— the old ^ odii tninsrormed ibta & 
tng clouds, RB Morse once told her Heine bad called them — " 
tcroaa the mendovrs at the Grey Mnnor. 

Piescntly ehe knew that Crichion was rpeakinn. He was ttandt, 
now away from her, and almost as quiet as herself. Ha 1ouk<<d | 
kiDger violent, but only hard and einiHtcT and resolute. His sc]f-<a 
quo^t gBve him n sort of d'gnity that detfpened in Koorilli's mind t| 
■euse of irrerocubleDOBB. There h.nd been said and done that wbN, 
could never be unsaid snd undone. His very recognition of this faff 
wbich iihe saw in bis face, Ufted him in her entimnlion to a higher 
IsveL Ho seemed something more thuu a cowardly cur. 

*• You're a woman," he said, "and I can't ptrike you. I cao't put 
70a out of my house into the night. But I'll not sleep under t*" 
SUQB roof with you again." 

It hftd come— the release! For the moment, it was un if ther 
been an inrush of pure air and glorious sunlight — and then bid 
tern>r like the falling of the stone upon the mouth of a tomb, 
■tiaightencd herself a little and bent forward with parted lips. 
•nxionB questioning in her gaze sharpened to agony. 

"I may go," she snidj then paused. "And the children?" 

"Ton may go — where you please. To Morse, or to your fntU 
The children will etay with me. 1 do not know yet what I aliatl a 
with them. Probably send them both to a strict school, where tl 
wiil he well brought up." 

" You cannot \iM me out of your home," cried Kooiili. " Ti 
not nart me from my children. Tiie law would defend me." 

"The law does not forbid a father to send hiaboys to scliool," renlled 
Ciichton coldly. "The law, 1 believe, may, under certain conditions, 
compel what is called a restitution of conjugal rights. Yuu liavu tbnt 
nlteraative." 

KoorMi uttered one low cry and was silent. She had the ImpulflO m9 
a mother whose actions have unjustly condemn oil hcrchildren tudsat|H 
and who will save them at, any cost. Uor resolution wiis luken. ^H 

" I am willing U^ come to any reasonable arrangement about moneJ^IJ 
(aid Crichton. "In the meantime, you will require some, wbftterw 
your plans may 1* You will find here ratlier muro than is neodod 
foe your passase to Australia." He took out a imokut-Vn)ok OS lie 
* J, and opening it, divided a bundle of baiik-uolcs, Imlf of which 



w^p* 



284 •■'THE RIGHT HONOURABLE. 

he liandeil to her. " It's oaXj right," he added, with that horiiHI 
Uugh, " that yuu should have your share of Iho plunder. This \a iIm 
price which tlje Piccadilly OazeiU gave for — my iurormalion," 

Conrnge llamed ia her. She came forward aad toiik the bundle fruia 
his hand. She moved hack a, little, then belore his ryes delibetately 
tore the notes across, tlicn across again, and Hung the pieces on the 

He made a gesture as if he would have f<dl upon her and throttled 
her there and then; but aijain by a violent effort he restrained him- 
ceir, and abruptly taming ho went out of the room, leaving her stand- 
ing there with the shrodj of the bank-notes scattered round her. 

She remained in a ('ozed way, incoherently thinking. Exactly at 
eight o'clock she beard Kenway leave the hoose to go to hia dimter- 
party. She could picture him to herself entering the drawing-room o[ 
the house where he was to dine, advancing all smiles and grace to his 
hostess, and making some sweet apologetic espliination of deareetKoo- 
tMl'i absence, and conveying the expression of her regrets, and regards, 
and loves, anil so forth. Kooriili could not help letting her thotighti 
wander in this idle way and painting for herself this unimportant 
little picture. When he wiis gone, she dragged herself upstairs, still 
physicntly weak, and too bewildered quite to realize what had 
happened. IZer boys' voices in the nursery seemed to call her there. 
They were nmut'lng themselvea alone. Lance was tinkering np a 
batterid 8tcani-cc°ine, and NUoa was epelimg out a nuraery ihyms 
from one of his toy-books — 

" A coiTibn crmc sal on rm oai, 
Herry^ derty, dffrry, decco ; 



Waic 
Eeigh ho I ila can 
EoorMi stood for a minute in the doorway and looked at her d 
All the tragedy of the situatioa rushed over her in strange coDtratl 
with this homely little scene. An exclamation like a groan broke from 
her. The boys looked up and saw her standing there, still in her atreec 

"Mother," Nud Lance, "aren't you going to the party \ 
father?" 

"No," she answered. "I'm going to stay — with my children." 

Something in her voice startitd both the hoys. Lance put domilB 
steam-engine, and Milt's crept up to her, hia book in hta hand, 

"Mayn't we come down, then, mother, to the drawing-room? No 
one will come to undress us for ever so long yet." 

" Wo will stay here," s^d Koor^lL Suddenly she began to aei^ 
traia their wondering faces, that her look and tone were givinz til 
the impressiuii that something was amiss. She roused heredfl 
kind of hysterical gaiety and interest in their ami]semanb<. 
Lanoe would have her play at lotto with them, and then W" 
/or one of Qrimia'i fairy tales. 



' 'sntrart ■ 

rstreec 




KoofWi went thrmigh the game, and then rcBd, read on mcuhaa 
C&Uy. And all the time her despairiog resolve was becoming fixed it 
&Q uualtemble purpose. She did Dot know whether Crirhlo 
(tally meant what he said, and had gone from the house not intoodE 
to tetum tilt she bad left it ; but she knew that she meant I 
■way her children, and to hold them till tliey Wfre actually n 
Trout her. ^ 

She Asked, potting donn the book, " Lance, should you like to go 
Itck to AuBtralla ? " 

"Ohi jolly !" criisi Lauo!. "It's over so much belter than Fomesia, 

IB) sure. I aaj, mother, father showed mo some snakoB that had 

me £rum Farneeia iii tlie Zoo — weenie tbinga, not much bigger IUmm 
riow-wornia. I say, do you know tbat if you cut a alow-wurm I^M 
fAect*, itll join together again ? " ^H 

"If you put one bit in Asia an<l one in Africa, it wouldn't joiB^| 
wd MUes. ^ 

" Ob, bother ! " escMined Lance. 

Just then their our^e, who was Koor^Lli's maid as vM, cAine in, 
ftijl of concern bc-cause her iniiitress bad nut gone to Atcsi. Tho 
womn guessed that there bail been a quarrel, Jt wrm iiut Ibu lirst 
time that Kooiill had tiiken refuge in tbe nursery after an unpica 

ens with her husband. 

"Ob, ma'am I " she exclaimed, " I was afraid you mlgliti 
Bball you dreea later?" 

"I «m not going out this eTcning," answered Koorikli, ~ 
her fice and voice. '■ I shan't want you, Amelia." 

" If you please, ma'am, cook did not understand that you would ta 
at home, and would like to know if you will require dinnei " 



; very well, Amt'l 

9 of your headaeboH, I e 
of wine and a biscuit. Tou j 
.B really attached to her mlatroi 



*■ No,'' answered Koorili, ' 
couldn't eat now." 

"You're tired, ma'am, am 
Won't you let me run down for a giiBS 
look BO pale," the muid urged. Shi 
and dialresse<l at her appearance. 

She went away without waiting for pcrmisaioQ. Koor^LU drank ^ 
wine, nnd ate the food that was brought her. 'I'bey did bur good « 
revived her faculticB. She let Amelia take off her out-of-door tl ' 
and-tbcn she kisseil her ehlldrcQ and went dowuetniiB ngairi. Shi. 
n great deal to ihink of and to settle. She could think belter n 
TSs drftwing-room was jiist as slie had Urt it, and the torn notes ij 
still on the Hoor. She wondered if it wiw snowing Btill. fiho went J 
the window, and, drawing aside the curtain, looked out In'O ibir nigfl 
Great flakes like white feathers ware falling thickly and nniKOlsillI 
'I'ha ground was quite white, and h> were the roofs and i>r(<ioaileut9 
tbe houses opposite. The trees in a square at tho end of tha slrr 
iooVod like huge branches of wbit« corah Bho bad tiom inch oot 
growing beneath the ocean away near the Gieat Dirrirr I' 
Itraflge it was 1 How beautiful I It awed her, and Uought ib4 l< 



, l»w btaA iqina bar hand, tffl long- nOcr the a? tad 
Ofei wmif. llUakli^ — tfctiUtiai^ 3&a «u ImJad pRpkxed in tm 
MUVMw^ Km rii* iisl ^it np ft art of maible campoBnra, Bx 
BMfpMtt «M &niir— was wlawiaag. Salbiiig^ on cutii ^ooid induBt I 
Mr tn Ut« tvlUi Ciiebtua KianrsT- u hi* wifo 11S7 antic : and lU | 
wnoU 30* g|T« >ip twr bn^ S^ «it> not tliiukiiig of grriug lasra 
Op; A* 1M* onJr tfai n Jting of hew tfaey were t" be got awa;. tt 
«siw inui lur mind Uiat Senn^j' cnold be esstlj isitDced Co uka 
what he had turoiwtf '>nce cnllni, "a Scwifini view of ihe suiaoini;* 
WDil flui ht cuolil Ini boii)^t olT; that he miuld let liar take hsr 
diUdrrn Lf »(m oiii>1<1 glvv liim monej Ibr ^em. liut to irhuirt nnilii 
aba turn? i^ tuul an taaoBy. Iter cheeks BamM at tfas nusv id^a 
i»f tamiiifi tn Mnne. Oh, hoir gtodlj lie would dij ll, she knew, S liiM 
ci^ulil nnl; Uii'n tii Liiic — ami nbe coiild lujl. Any rpari cot oKXh 
ratb«r tliaa lilm — niifr nkiat Ctichtnn hod said; and after Cnditoc't 
erlina ngnilnat hint. IIik i-liitk struck nine. 

Sit* RcMt) Eb« bdl a£ Iho lUseL-doct dug. WLa could be ■■mrimg at 



CHAPTEB XIXV. 



"no WAT BUT 1 



ffl!- 



"Mr. Mmhib." 

K'Birili stoiMl motionless with the shock of snrprwa. Ha of all iii«i 
WM the liuit wliorn Kbe coiild have «ipected to see. She looked at him 
with A HTt <>f terror In her ejes. Her greeting was one of abeoluie 
("iteno*. Nor, f'T a mfiment, did he speak. The do** closed agaio. 
He came siraiglit to where she stood, but he did nut hoM out his 
hand. 

'' KihtAIi 1 " Ho hnd never called her bj her name since the day, 
tnn well remoiribored, im llie tcrrnoe at the Priory -on- the- Water. 
" KoorM), (ire you shocked nt my roming so late? I felt that I must 
Coine; 1 havD nowa to tell you. Uut Bt'>p1 1 see by your face that 

i'liU liRve newn to tell mo ; I tee It In your eyes, and in these tell-tale 
inlf-clrclEs roiinil thciu. SomethlDs bad has happened to you too. 
Wellt 1 will flrst hnve yuur itory, nnUthen you shall have mine. Uay 

Ue drew k ohnlr and sat down. Hit forood composure, his miumei 



«A'C? IVAY BUT THISr 287 

of usumcd levify, were ominouB and terrible \m h'-r. \\v\ faoo was 
kept rigid as a xn.xsk; but hia eyes s^xike of some grim event which ho 
ii'as compelling Lim<!elf to endure. 

** Teil me first," KooriLli said tremulously. 

''Xo; I must first hear what you have to tell me, Oo on. Some- 
thing has happened. What is it?" There was a toucli of aliii'ist 
tragic imx)er;ousneas about him which maatcrc^l her. It was bcwildijr- 
ing, tempting, and yet inexpressibly sweet to sco hint Wi near, witli hU 
eyes fixed upon her, and something in them which liwl never been 
there before. ''Sit down," he said; "we have a <^reat deal to talk 
about — ^you and L" She moved from where she }ia<i been stand in;{ by 
the mantel-piece, and sat down on a low sort of ottoman in front of 
the nearly burnt out fire. As she did so, her dress brushed the little 
sheaf of crisp paper on the carpet She saw his eyes attract^^d to it by 
the rustle, and stoopiDg, suddenly gathered up ihe torn notes, and wiih 
ft passionate gesture ilung them up^tn the coals. '* Those arc Umk- 
notes," he 8;ud, still in that abrupt way. " Why do you want to burn 
them?" 

** Because they are the price" — she began impetuously, with 
heightening colour, and then stopped, drawing herself to;retlier wiili a 
little shiver, while a curtain seemed to fall over her llaKliinfr eyes ami 
moved features — ^^' because my husband gave them to uie,^ she K:ii<l in 
a tone of repressed bitterness. 

At that instant the pieces of paper flamed up. The ^low rLi ikin;; 
her face or the momentary change in its expression made liiiii slari 
forward and look at her searchingly. 

" You have been ill," he exclaimed. " Oh, how altered you an; ! ** 

He had not seen her, except upon that dusky afternoon in tlio I 'ark, 
since they had parted so conventionally at the Priory-on-the-Watcr. 
As she tat there in her black dress, it seemed to him that her forni 
was shrunken; that her checks were more wnstcd than ho had f.uicicd 
on first entering; and that the circles round her eyes were lar;;(;r and 
hoUower. 

** I've not been ill," she said, in a manner of the dorprst dc^jcclion ; 
and then, looking up at him with a quick, most pathetic glance, hIkj 
added, " i've only been — unhappy." 

He made a sound like a groan. " Unhappy 1 These months! 1 
knew it. And I couldn't do anything. No nifltter now. Tt'll nio 
what that means," and he i)ointed to the bLickcned piper. •* You have 
quarrelled with your husband V " 

"Wo have quarrelled," Koorali answered quietly. "lie is sending 
me away from him — for ever. 1 shall never live with him again." 

A melancholy smile passed for Imlf an instant across Morse's face, 
and then was gone. He was thinking, '' Is it much of a banishment 
for such a woman to be sent from such a man?" The smile gave 
place to a ]^culiar expression. He bent towards her. "Then, 
KoorMi," he said, in a strange, low voice, " you are free to go where 
you will." 



^^^w^ 



^^^ 



28B "THE RiCHT HONOURABLE." 

No covert moaning in his worde struck her. 
"My cLildren" she went on Bimply, "my little boys. Ho eajil 
must not take tbom; but I uiHl take them." 

" Do you really mean that your hUBbaiid ia turning you out of bii 
houBO? " Morse aakeii fiercely. 

** I do. Ha hns turned mc out «f bis houao ; be has toM me that I 
must go; that I must be gone before be rEtumB; that he will not 
cone under one roof with ma ever again. See " — she made a geatnre 
townrda the fire—" there ia the money which he gave me, that I mi^t 
go away." 

"Where do you propoae to go to, Koondi?" Morse IimbM 
fonrard, his chin buried in hi« hands, bis elbowa on his knees, and lie 
gaz*d fixedly, anxiously, into lier face. 

'■ I am going back to my faiher — in South Britain. 1 have nowhere 
else to go to. 1 muat go. I wtU find a way. I leSl lake my link 
boys — nolhing shall prevent me from doing that — I will do that ! " 

" Yes," Baid Morae, " wherever you go your chiMren ahai] go iritli 
you." 

" Thank you ; oh, thank you ! " Koorili osclaimed fervently, as if 
he had given her aome great gift. He had, at least, approved of her 
resolve. " ZTe will be glad in (he end," ahe suid. " He iis going out lo 
hia new government, and he will feel (dl the happier for being free troia 
us. He has never cared for ub. He only 6(ud — what he did — about 
the children to frighten and tortare me." 

"Tell me — was the quarrel very serious?" 

" We can never come together again — never, never ! It's all ei 

I'd rather die than go on. I^ " she faltered from old instiaB 

reserve, then spoke aiifliQ reoklessly — " I wanted it to end. 1 trieq 
a long time to bear oil and say nothing; but there came i 
I could bear no more. He made life very hitter lo me." 

" I know it, I know it, KoorWL" 

"To-nigbt there was aaid what can never be forgotten Bj - „ -_ 
two live. I am goins away to-morrow — I and my children, tj 
hide them from him till we are out of England, nnii then — then. ' 
wants them, he must drai; them from me. He won't do that 
would not he worth wbila" 

There was silence for a moment. Then Morae asked — 

"Con you tell what it wna about?" 

She only shook her head, and sgain there was a moment's 1 
and then Morse said — 

" If I can guess, will you tell me then ; will you eny "yea* or 'no'? 
Was the quarrel— about me?" 

KoorWi looked at him in a wild, beseeching way. The faint Hush 
which hnd come over her face was quite gone now; she wiis licidly 
pale. The EleaGfafltness of his gaze aeenied to compel a truthful 
reply. 

" Yes." She spoke in a mere wbispor the one won!. Then she It 
■nd went to the chininoy..p{ece, and look up one of the cards thatfl 



en she itmi 
a that «!■ 



lying Ihere, nnd turned it over, and rend ami re-renil its inscrijition, ■ 
ItnconsguH of whaA ehe was duiog. 

** tia Mcuaed you " . 

Without looking round, without putting down the cord shu apptuced 
to be studying, Koorili answered, " He did." 

"Uy (rodr' Morae aiid, with a gronn. The purest, trurat, mont * 

ml womaa he had ever known ; tmd she hstd to bear ajl thu I Thtir ' 

IS het reward I 

"Ue docBD't believe it," Morse exclaimed; "he knows what a lit 

id slanderer he is ! " 

"He does not btlieveit," Koorilli said aimply. "Oh no; bo knii« 

ia not true. He ouly wants to drive me Irotn him. Do not think ■ 
altogether hardly of hiui," she added, impoUid liy an instinct of juutiue. 1 
" I angered him, I — I— loKt tnyHelf." 

Moras cHve a bitter littla Uugh. "Tliere is something more,. 
XoorUi, I am sure. Somulhing that I do not know," he Biiid with 
audden energy. 

" There is," Koorlli answered. Her face seemed to grow still paler. 

"And am I nut to know it!" 

"No; not through me. Never, I hope, through any one. U would 
.not be right for me to tell you ; you will not ask me ? " She turned 
miBd to him now with beseeching eyes. 

" Stin 1 think I ought to ask you " 

" Ho, no. Oh, pray don't press me, I could not tal! you, It was 
SORKtbiug told to me which 1 ought never to tell sgain. It did not 

M^y concern me; except that No, I must be silent You will 

not let me say wh,it 1 should bate myself for saying?" 

Wronged though she was, KoorMi shrank, as from ec 
honourable, at the thought of letting Morse know of her hiu&iod'u 
anpomllcled treachery and ingratitudo towards him. 

■"'Well," Morae said, drawings deep breath, "if it does not o 
TDD, Kooritli, it does not concern m«; I shall not a<k you an] 
*faoat iL" Bis impression w.is that KoorMi had found out i 
' Wlong-doing of her husband, something of the too-familiar kind, and 
tiiat she thought she ought not to tell of it, and ho felt that she vae 
rigbi, "Cume, you have told ma your story- Your husband has left 
jou." 

"He has tiild me I am to leave him for ever." 

" Yea. Now, don't you want to hear my story ? " lie got up a; 
■potie^ and stood grim and Napoleimio before her. 

" Yes," Koorili said, taking new fright at the straiijio expression o; 
bis tuce. 

" Wtll, it is your own over agnin — in a diiTerL-nt way. My wife has 



and 

vaa 
i iofi ■ 




ago "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

\a Ihal," he added grimly. " 8he believes that 1 was rcnilj the Icadn 
(if « plot to stub Engknd in (be back with a foreigu liaggcr; b* 
aoEaBEiuH hired with foreign money," 

Koo^li brofee into a cry of horror and shnme. " She believes tliot— 
of you — jour own wife ? Sho sajB ao? Sbo bergelf; bar Tery «i-if?" 

"She haswritten it down hers; with her own hand. Sec — joumy 
read her letter. 1 found it walUug to welcoiaa mo when I reached 
home — I mean the bouse that waa my home." lie drew out • 
crumpled sheet, and beld it to her. She did not move her hanila to 
take it. With a bitier laugb he tossed it into the fire. "You tescli 
me a lesson in loyalty," ho sni'd. '"Well, it's late fur that dov. 
Yes;" he broke out wildly, " she believed it ! And Ardcn — the young 
man 1 never much liked, and he didn't like me, 1 know — be didn^ 
liclieve it for one tecond I He came out of Ids way this evening to 
speak to me and Ebtike hands witb me «nd tell mo 1 had eaid just the 
right thing I And hia father, Lord Forrest — that cold, Btatdy old 
man, who would not liiverge one inch from the most scrupulous prin- 
ciple to Bave the empire — he came to me, and held out hia hand and 
be told nie 1 had spoken like a man of honour and a gcntlemaa— md 
that means so much with hitn. He did. He was hardly ever in the 
House of Commons liefore, and be camo to bear ine ; and lie npprare'l 
of what I Lail said and done; and said be would have done just the 
Eame lumeeU'l And you — ivtll, of course, I iieed not Btieak of you — 
you couldn't believe such a tale of me." 

He had moved in an eici:od way while he had been spcnliing, and 
DOW he stood by the piano, and leaned over it in tbe attitude she 
remcmbereil so well. 

" Oh no," she said quietly. "No matter who believed it, I couIdl»*t 
believe it; 1 nei'er thought about it at nil — uKcept tiiat yon weru 
right in not condescending to dfny it. I was almost afraid at first 
that you were going to give it a sarious denial ; but, of course, I might 
have known tliat you would do just what was right." She remem- 
bered then Lady Betty's strange li>uk3 and strange words as they 
were leaving tlie Ladies' Gallery. Her heart was swelling with j 

"Well, 1 have said enough about that," Morse declared t anSj 
mode a gesture with bis hand as if be were waving it away TopC 
He left tliQ piano now, and went over to Iha chimney-piooe and f 
by Koor^li. "1 didn't quite know whilu 1 was coming beta, Koa 

what I was coming for. I suppose I followed my star, as you said 6 

AuBtraliao morning, long ago — don't you remember? Yobj I musE 
have been following my star! Naw it shines on ma quite clearly, and 
it ahgwametheway. When I came here Idid not know that you w*r? ■ 
without a husband, as I am without a wife. Hnvo we not b "■ 
enough V Have we not kept from each other long enough? KM 
let UB not stand apart any more." ' ' 

Hia mnnuar was not in the least like that of a wild lovec^ 
drama. Uowaa standing composedly on the hearthrug, J 



nd j^H 
»idfflS!f 







Uttlo 

I bcoii 

OUgli. 

i bi*^ 



9 low-Itin&l and quiet; his whole boaKog tlint nf 

erve. She lookLd up iu wonder to hia Isce. Did she rcalJy undc) 
■biiid wL&t he meant ? 

"•Come to nie, Koorili," he said; " Ihe fates hivo thrown 
^ ilher. 1b it not tot Lot us go together, or stay tojicthcr, jiwt. 
yoa like. Your children shsll be my childreu ; and 1 wiil try 
you happy, for all that liaa come and gone." 

EooHlli's pye» were dowocnst. She stood very still. Only the little 
tiwnor which iiassed over lior framo told of tho lateasity of her fevling. 

Ha watched hor with bieathlesa aoiiety, " It is to bo," he said in 

S^ck incisive tooea. " You and I look stnught into tho soul of tbiogs. 
fine talk — no playing with Iho conventional scmiilcs. We've bcira 
dtiren out of all that. You trust me? I needn't aak, *' 
Uive me your band on it." 

At his eommand she lifted her eyes and let them meet his full 
^ held her hand back. Her coinposura was nnrvelloua. It bi 
'.a hor that she was pressing down weights of lead on her soaring 
Sad it been only a questiun of herself, the world might go. She _ 
her weakness. But she must bo strong — for her childreu — for hiin. 
, " My friend, why have you eaid this ? I would give all the world, 
U' it were mine, that you had not said it. I have loat you now — I haie 
brt you fi>r ever I " 

" Folly 1 ■• Morse Mid impatiently. " Idle folly. We only lake what 
lies at our feet Yfsterday 1 Mt as you do; but evorytliiog has 
changed to-day — for both of ua. What have you got by your purity, 
and 1 by my scruples? Your hunbnnd accuees you of crttne, and turns 
you out of house and home; and my wife deserts me in the hour of 
Intrlel She (saves it for you to figlit wiib me. Ah, i/ou cnn bo loyal! 
Tell me. Did I not do well to you ? Bid I ever say what 1 felt about 
jou? Did I ever speak of love to you?" 

"Oh no, iiideod; you never, never did. You acted like a true 
friend; and I — yes, 1 adored you for it." Koorili let herself go for a 
moment, fln<< s|»ke out her heart with a passionate cuergy. 

"Well — and what did we get by that? Did 1 not enoourage you to 
loKTs London ? Did I not do all I could to help you to get away — - 
add you knew how I felt to you all tho time; yes, and I may suy It 
"" TW, I knew how you felt to me — Kooriili ? " 

**ye«," said KijOrili, still with jjassion in her voice, " It ia all 
true. I honoured you for it ; 1 do still, I honour you now for your — 

for " Her voice broke altogether. After a moment she went ou, 

"Some day, some distant day, I shall own to myself all that I felt to 
you," For the first time, wbiJa tlicy wore spcaliing, tbe tears came 
intit her eyes. " Oh, don't you know ihnt it is something precious to 
me — something to treasure up Ml my life, to make me feel a better 
woman— tne thought that you have cared for me?" 

*' An exceeding tendernpss came into his fiice, He made a m.OTe- 
Rient tou-arils her, but her very trust was a barrier. Ue restrained 
lumeelC. 



r 




S9a *^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 

"AqH what have we gained by thnt ; what have wo got? 

"Oaiiied? Got? My frieod" — KoorSli's melnncholy e 
ioemcii lo widen the dratance between them — " we have MTod o 
bffinimr and our conscience; we hato kept the whiteness of our sod 
Ton, my dearest Iriend, you who think it nothing to throw away a 
great career for a principle — yoii ask me what we have gained, you 
wd I, by keeping the whitoneaa of our soula?" 

"We owe Something to ourselves," Mono broke in. "Thi» bai 
been forced upon U8 j we hnven't sought it. Come, Koorili," he spoke 
to ber very gentiy now, "there is a crisis sometimes in pcoiile's livea 
which can't be disposed of by reference to the cnntrns of any caBuiatrj, 
You and I love each other — yea, we may wiy that now— we ore auitrd 
to each other; we seem, %% Uie nimanciets say, made for racb oLher, 
I think that oVi-n on tliat Australian morning I had some dim [wrcep- 
tdon that you and 1 were somehow destined to stand side by side, eonw 
time. I wish I bad never lost sight of you. I am my true aelf only 
with you. Come. We need each other. The world has thrust us 
both outside ite doors ; let us go together." 

"Go where?" EoorMi askw, "la there any place where I conlil 
Toilet ihat I had brought dishonour on my hoys ; or where you couU 
foTget tliat you had brought diagmce on your name and your career — 
where I could fotget that I had helped you lo do it? Oh, do take |aty 
on me — you, my only fjiend ; and do not Jot ua speak uf this any 

" I do take pity on you, and so I take you away from this place 
where you are insulted, and degraded, and miserable." 

"Ah," she pleaded softly, " can a woroau ever bo really degrackd hut 
by bersolf ? " 

" Lt-t us go to America," Morse Kiid ; " a great career ia to be made 
there by any one who ha.-i brains and energy. KoorUi, they shall hear 
our namea in Europe again ! " 

"And your country, Mr. Morse? Your peotile?" 

" My country,' he said, with a ecornfiil and bitter laugh, " will for 
aught I know echo the yells of the House uf Commonal My pe ople"^'* 
I am the most unpopuliir man in England now." tj ' 

" It ia only the madneaa of a moment," she urged. "Etbij S 
heart in England will rally to you; you will sland higher '' 
This will he furgotten." 

" It will not be forgotten by me." 

" Yea, yea ; you will see that the country, the English people, have 
never for a moment loKt faith in you. Why, even in that House of 
Commons, those whose opinion you cared for were with you — " 
Koor&li stopped in sudden emharmssment. Morse aaw what had n 
her feel enibarrni^fed. 

"And my wife?" he asked, " What about her opinion? 

"Oh, that wns some audden, extraordinary misconoeptim 
it was. Already, perhaps. Lady Betty understands, 
remember how shu has been brought up ; and how devoted she li 



wiU for 

i 

1 



^^^m^^^i 




Uie PiicMM! and the CoctrL Oh, believe me, tlmt n 
liealed. You and Lady Betty will bo Mends again," 

Ehobk his b^. "You do not know wbat it is fur a mi 
to have it blazoned all over town t[>-morrow morn'ug ibat hit 
Btistuciniic wife has left him for CTer, because aba believes liitu t< _ 
liave been an asaociute in an infamous plot. Only one thing on earth,! 
Koorili, CAD mabe life a good thing to me; and Uiat ia your cora- 
psnlonship. Come with me. Come 1 Let via give up all ihis noisy, 
emnty world of politic-i, if yoa like. Let ua Wvo in some quiet place 
ftnd dream." 
. " A dream, indeed ! " said KoorSJi aadly. 

" Let us watch the sunsets. Let ua live in peace and honour — ycB, 
hoQour; I repeat it. Let us be everything to each other. I know 
nim what you are worth to me, and what the world is worth to both 
if us; and I ehal! make myself worth something to you. You ahall 
never be sorry for trusting yourself to ma." 

"1 know it J in that sense — oh, I know it," she snid. She clasped 
her hands on the mantel-board before her aud leaned her head upon 
baa. At thai moment the dreariness iA the struggle came upon ncr 
»iyi deeper and sadder meaning. Fur an inatant aho allowed herself 
to drift towards the dreamland he pictured. But in a mnncnt aha 
«as [adng him again, mournfully resolute. "I know that all that 
kiDdncss snd gentleness and chivalrDus affection could do for woman 
would be done by you for me— to the end," she went on, " to the very 
end, wherever and Hhatever that might be. But you could not turn 
wrong into right or shame into honour. Soon you would be sorry on 
my account, and I should be aorry on yotirs. Wo thould end by 
making each oiher imhappy, Just because we are uot bad enough to do 
wrong and feel no remorse. Eoo wbat it has come to already," ahe 
added pluativeJy ; " I can't even ask your advice in my sad strait." 

''I am. selfish in this — I know it," Morse said; "but iiho could help 
"Who would, not pity yon and love you that had seen you as I 
bsTC seen you 1 I never said so while you had a husliand. Now that 
you have none, Koorili, I will save you from yourself; I will prevail 
upon you ; I will make you go with me." 

His mannerwas entirety respectful; he did not stand close to her; 
ho did not even take her hand. But there was a strength of emotion 
in hia looks which frightened her, and although his voice waa calm, liia 
fsjea and his words were wild. Eooridl found the truth forced in upon 
her that in that ciisis ihe could not rely on his man's strength for a 
support ; that she must think and act for both ; that she alone must 
inve herself and him. 

" At least," she said, " you will not preas me now ; this moment ? 
You will not asb me to decide to-night? Oh, you do not know how 
aeriouH this ia for a woman with children — with aons who will one day 
grow up and know ail about their mother. You will give mo to-night 
'o think? Ah, indeed — indccl, if I hastate it is not because of any 
fant of trust in you. But you will not press me — no; not to-night, 



JU-W«J-f 



391 "THE RIGHT BONOVRABLE? 

my only friend? " She now sho-wed her trust in him «: 

|:ut hiT liand tuTiderly into hia fur & niommt. lie raised it, tuuchodt^ 



>viUw 



," Koorilli answered. 




t try lo »e« n 
till you liave my letter." 

Ihey pertid without another irord. Ucr eyes fullowed him u bt 
moved to tho door. It was will that he did not see the aneuiel] in 
tliem. It was well that he did not hear the luw cry which bruke {rest 
her when the duor shut behind him, and she waa left alone. | 

She heard him go downatairB. She heard his step in the hail below. ' 
He trod firmly aud lightly, she Iboiight; there seemed to be ercD 
Bomething of elasticity and elation in the tread. Perhaps she hod 
mode hioi hopeful for the moment ; perluLpa he waa thinking of a new 
life to be begun by him and her together. She heard the door onea 
and then close. It closed, not with a clang, but gently, as if in tlist 
very moment he were tender of her nerves and her feelings. 

At the sound she dew to the window.and, drawing aside the ourtun, 
atipped out oa to the little balcony. She watched him as he walked 
down the street, silently, like a ghost. The snow had ceased lalling 
now, but everything was covered as with a sheet. The lamps cast iv 
bluish light upon the pavement, i^he watched him disappear in the 
shadow of a church at the corner of the square. It was a saint's day; 
there was service going on within, and the sound of Ihe organ came to 
her and seemed to solemnize tlia decision she had mode. The devo- 
tional strains and the tall dork building, with its snow-fiecked S[are 
and all its Gothic arclies end projections traced in dazzling white, ^ve 
her a feeling of stay and anciiorage. At best or at worst, how Biiort 
and poor was life 1 how great God's goodness ] how vast the InGnite I 

8he went liack again and closed the window. The air felt very cold. 
Tt had maile her shiver. She sat down miserably on the sofa, and then 
liid her face in the pillows and broke into unrestrained tears ; for she 
knew that she was not to Sfe him any more. 

When she had for the moment no more tears to shed, tho crept 
u[)stnirs to the room wliere her boys were sleeping, and she kndt 
beside them and prayed. Her mind w&s made up; she knew wbst 
she had to da Not for ono instant did she doubt as to the path she 
was to tread. She was to save him, and her boys, and herself. But 
she prayed for guidance as to the manner in which this was to be 
done, and for strength to bear up and to do it. Truly, if one but 
Eincorcly wishes to walk tho right wayt "light ariseth in the duk- 
nt'sa " and tho path is Been. 



■ . 1 

^^^M KOORALFS LETTER. 395 ^| 

^^^H CnAPTP.It XXXTT. ^^k 

^^^^^f eoorAli's lctteii. ^^| 

SnoK did not como home that night. Ha did not come home Ihe ' 

It mommg. Almost Ihe first news that Kooikli beard ou waking 
iB that one of the BcrvaHts had received a measago from him ordering 
■it his lelterB should bo Hcnt to the Grey llBnor. ^^ 

Eoo:ili slept Inte, and started tip with a aeni^ of guilt and dretul in ^H 
B bright light of a frosty morning. There was bo much to do. She ^H 
old not see her waj in front of her. She murt go awny that Tery ^H 
J — before Morse could coma to her. She must steal lior children, ^| 
dhide herscir and them before there wna time for her pur|>oBe to 
wnnpon Crichton's mind. But Ivow? Where? Slie had no money. 
•» had no friends — none at least to whom she could apply In such 
lereency. In her bewilderment she could only think gf Zen. She 
Hlld have died ralher than be indebted to one of the farady ; but 
ia,«)niehow, was not one of the family — honest, impulsive Zen, who, 
: her own part, had some esperience of BufTerios. Kooiili resolved to 
ak fusistance from Zen. But, again, how ? Of Zen's generosity 8nd 
fslty aba felt assured j but how ooulii her plans be tept secret from 
listiCA, and would not that involve their betrayal to Crichton ? How 
uld alie write or telegraph to Zen without the risk of endangering 
T tnm and her children's liberty? 

Two letters were brought to her. The h-andwriling of one seemi d 
miliar and yet strange. She opened the oiber, of which she knew 1 
e superscript bn too well — too well. r 

" I will corae for you, KoorMi, to-morrow at five o'clockH 
r« will take the boya with us. I think of going to Dover by an "^ 
flinuy train. Wo shall leave England at once, either fur Calais or ' 
Stend. Where to go nest 1 have not thought j but we can acltlo 
iftt rfter. For the present it is best to have no plans. Trust jour- 
II and your boys and your future to me, as I trust all to yau. 
"For ever yours, 

"S. H." 

6be tisEcd the letter tenderly and ]iut it In her bosom. *' I mny d 
S*(," ihe said. With it pressed tliUs fo her heart she could hav 
warned hersilf into Paradise. But there must bo no dreams. 

She dressed in a mecharieal way, and as mechanically submitted t 
et mnid'B last touches, Amelia's curiosity was rampant when her 
lUtresB said, "I am going to take the children away for - -'■"'• 
[ave their clothes packed as soon as rosaible," 

"Shall you tako me, ma'am? " B^hed the maid. 

" 1 don t know. No," nnsii-ered Koorlli absently. 

"And your own ihiiigst, ma'^m?" pursued Amelia. "Will there b« 
my evening dresses required ¥ " 




196 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE^ 

KwnUi gave her liiroctions caltoly and minutely. Oh, the mookm 
ef wich dotnll*! It was oat till ahe was alone again that i' 
loottd Itie other Ivlter E>ie hod received. As »he lootceJ a 
moro, it 6a<hcd acrow her tbnt the writing wns Lord Anton's; 
then shn remenil>cred. with tlie sudden Heaae of a aaviog hood stretched 
oiil to bcr iu her need, their convcrBfttion at tho Priory-on-th&-Watef| 
uid tliu [ifomiao she had moda bim. She hastily opened (he lettit. 
ll ran— 

"ForrestrionaBi Tuesday, Midnight. 

"Dbab Mna. Kettwat, 

" I wns in tho tloiise this aftcmonn, niid I saw you and tried 
to get at yon as you were leaving the Ladiei' Gallery, but there ww 
A crush, and I last you. I want very much to speak to you, though 
1 knotr, of course, what your ogn-niun is of the infamous chains every 
one is talking about. You must feel as keenly ss I do the fact that 
Lady Beity Morse has forsaken ber husband in his trouhle. It most 
not be. We, who are friends of both, must not let it be. I fear thaC 
Mone, in a moment of dlsj^ust, mny throw up his potiiiciil career. 
Wo know that in a little while — a lew days, perhaps — tlie country 
will do him justice ; Englaud caunut spare such a man ; ho must lie 
saved to her, 

"May 1 come to yon about midday to-morrow? If I get no 
telegram to the contrary, I shall be at your house, and, as always, at 
your full service. 

" I am, yonr faithful frieni!, 

" Abdbn." 

There was Eomutliinz In tha tone of Arden'a letter which brought 
(he blood rushing to Koorikli's cheeks. Hod heeeea Morae? Did he 
guess the truth 'I Why did he take it for granted that she knew of 
Lndy Betty's departure? Why did he call upon bet to mediate 
between huaiiand and wife? Why did he appeal to her to save to the 
people iho statesman who could lead them to honour? 'Jlie very way 
in which he sutwcribed himself sufgested that he fanoied the timo had 
come in which she might ledeenL her promise, and in which he might 
be able to help her. 

These questions revolved in her mind vhile she went over her 
papers, and, as methodically as she could, made preparations for her 
dopartiiro. She did not ttlegraph to Arden. Of course she would see 
him. She could not help lookin°; to him in some sort of undefined 
way for aid in this emergency. She did not know Low he could belo 
. her, unless in seeking out Zen — this was the one flan which tooK 
ahaf* in her thoughts. She did not even know wiiat she sliould say 
to him. She could not make up her mind to tell him in plain wordk 
that she had quarrelled hopelessly with her husband acd Uiat she 
mwnt to steal nwny her children ; but it seemed to her, looking b ' 
now, that ho had all along been destined to o ' ' 



^odif^nv 'i^TTTA. 



rwnt and past, thnt vihm ihey hn-d talked t«gethor at tlia Priory m 
had Hfibed if be might be her Mend, she had foreseen this trouMe. 
then dim and sbnpclesB in the future, and for that very reason hud 
hentatcd to take him at his word. She had felt, then, that she coiihl 
not lightly glre n promise which sotne day might mean a great deal. 

At I, little after tnelvo Arden came. He was shown into the frc~' 
drawing-room. She wbh in the hack room, with the door betwt 
cloMd. Presently ehe came in tO' him. As aba pushed luide 
foridre, and ndvanced, a little wasted figure in a olack dceaa, i 
pale and resolute face and deep sod eyef, all bia previous suEpicioi 
were confirmed, and he aaw that aomcthing momentous hod happen* 

She shook htrnils with blm, hut did not sit down. 1'h( 
colli and cheerleRB, and the Are waa imlighted. Arden looked a Ul 
awkward nnd Bmherrassed, and hia eyes met hers searchinaly. 

"Mrs. Kenway," he said, without any conventionaJ preface, 
that I could have seen you last nighL" 

A nish of colour overapreod bar faca ; hut she did not nnswt 

*' I have a great deal to my to you " ho began. 

She moved to the door through which she had entered. " 
Iwre," she said. " There's a fire. It's cold in this room." 

He (ollowed her, and threw a awift comprehensive glance round. A. , 
look of apprehension came over hia fiice. 1'he place was all a litter 
<tf papers — packets tied up and documents of dilTerent kinds. 'J'be 
drawera of the writing-table stood open and were in confusion, and 
abredB of torn letters over-Glled and lay round the wiuite-pepcr basket. 
Koor&li moved some books from a chair and motioned to it. 

He did not seat himself. As Khe etood by the mantel-piece he m; 
an abrupt movement towards her, as if he wouki have entreated 
impbred her to delist from some course to which he guessed. " ' 
restrained himself. 

"Mrs. Kenway," ho exclaimed, "what doea it mean? 
making preparations for a journey at once ? " 

"I an goin^ away," she answered qiiielly. 

Arden gazed at her in jainand bewilderment. "What does it 
mean?' he repeated, and gave a utrange little laugh. "Kvery i .._ 
ia going aimy. Lady Hetty has IcfE her husband. I met Morse Inst 



and 
ket. 

1 



n^lbt. He, loo, said that he was Eoing away. And y 

kuVanced a step, and his eyes rested full upon her with sucn ansious 

qaeetioDing in them that her own drooped. "Tou haven't gut any 



■h project in your mind? 1 know that you and yuur husband 
itended to le " ■ ■■ - ■ ....... .. -_ 



Ingland in a few weeks. It's only that 
OHs occurred to hasten your voyage to Famesia, and you 
mady. That is all?" 

"No," she replied, still composMlly. "It isn't that, 
Vm not going to FametJa with my huEbaiii' 
Aualralia— my boys and L" 



■ — . 

Lord ArdcQ^^H 
[>rc going <I^H 



T^^ 



198 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLEr 

Then mu >U11 aUim and perplnxitr on Ardeo's iace. 
MuTM?" bo Bsktd involuntarily. "WIibtq is Moraa goiajt?" 
K laotnent IxlUf, liu li&lod himralf (or Laving anid lbs irorils ai 
the implication tliey cooTeyed, Koorkli became as pale aa d 
Sho lincw that Allien had discovcj-cd her secret. Sho uudenEloo' 
bia letter — hi< Klmnge maoDor. for a moment he thought ai. 
goin:c lo fuint. The amotioa bhe shntreil iJecpeQcd hia alunst&ai 
anilely. He dreaded the worst. And yet bomrthio^ told h'm 
nt whatever ouat, nhs would ha true to her wumniihood. I' 
rdiof when she niUcd her head wiih a quic^ prouJ gesture 
kijcw. Her face waa Icgb ashen now; but the strained look ahool 
mouth told him how hard it was fur her to keep the muscles in tf 
and her eyea were bright with tears aa aho turned them t 
then ftvericd them. si^ 

" J don't know where Mr. Morse is jwinpi" "ho sail, bringing onl her 
worils withdiflicuJty. "Zhopa — Iljelieve thnthewilliitflyiaBngiatid, 
and shuw the people that be is not to bu crushed by calumny. It 
would lieem cowardly in hidi to go sway. It wouid hu wioiig; and 
M be cott got to feel ihat, he will never do wliat is wroti;x. Oh. iionl 
Arileii, hia Iriemls ought to urpe this upon him ! " Her voicu faltereii, 
" They oi'ght to point out to hiia what madness it would be to Uuov 
away his career in a moment of anger and disgust." 

" You are risht," said Ardvu. "He is a Htateemiin, with a duty to 
his country. Whatever his theories may be — and they ara nut mine 
— he is a Cir-seeing, noble-mindeii man, and ha has England's greatness 
at heart. I did not do him justice before the test of the elec'JOUB 
c«me. I believed' him to be meiely au ambitious politici^ui e^er for 
power. 1 do him better justico now." 

Kootiili'H eyes glistened. " Yoit will tell him tbb," she said, and 
raised her hands in a gesture of appeal. "The storm will blow over. 
In a little while lie may be coiilenled again — it will take n liltla 
while," Bhe xeemeil to 'W. 8|icakiiig le^ to her companiun than in 
argument with herself. " Hia career, his ambition, bis cause, irill fill 
his life and make up to him for everythiug. And his wife will go 
buck to liim. He mustn't bo hard on her. Oh, Lord Arden, you will 
speak to him. You will tell him all this 1" 

There was s^nuine pity in Lord Arden's Cwe, "And you yourielt 
Mrs. Kenway V You, too, will speak to him ? " 

"No," she answered, with a Bttange solemnity in her tuna; "I shall 
not See htm ngiiin." 

She turned her bend, and, covering her face with her hands, leaned 
her forehead against the maiitel-piece. The strain was relaxed at last. 
Ho saw that her frame shook with suppressed sobs. Hia heart a""'* 
incorapaasicn for her, and yet he could not byword or *"" 

to comfort her. 

He moved nway, and stood with his back to her, looking fixed 
the Blained-glasa window above her writing-table. For jrearaS 
rears Ardcn remaniberod the particular colouring and design of « 



is, leaned 
t\ at last, 
art ach^^al 

iUed^^l 
aof^H 



window, finJ bo ueociated it alwnys with odb of iho most e 
UiomEUtii be had ever knonn. Ffsenlly the convulsive houhiIb caneei 
■ml he know Ehe wm cdm again. When be u'«tit t 
tdu hod raised her fkce. It was vaa nnd piteouB, but «iocpt for a 
■bgkt trembling she giiro no sign of agitation. * 

"I am ftshaiQod of myself for bruaking down," sho saiil, wttli d 
jAtbeticfiinile. "But IVe had a grcnt dsAl to try me thfi ln«t t 
days. I didn't sleep njuch last taglit; and I think I'm ' 
out." 

He took her hand as if she had been a child, and placed her va i 
ann-chair close to the fire, seating himself near hor. 

"I don't wonder that you are worn out," he (aid. " Yoit n« 
Tod have looked ill Sot a long time; and yeaturdaj upset you. _. 
upwt every one. We won't talk of Morse now, Mrs. Kooway. bill 
About you. You nay depend upon me to do my b'^st — my very baaC.. 
'—to bring his wife baek to liim, xaA to keep him true to hia couatiT 
■ad to fais real self. That is what you and \ — what ail his ronl fricoM 
muU ivish. I thiTik that I can und'orBtacd your feeling." Me wailed 
tot ft few momcnls, not looking at her. 

KoorUi leaned biick in her chait luid wearily closed her eyes. Ilia 
words brought a seiiBO of rolief, but one of pain and strani^cness tou.. 
It was as thougli slie saw everything Blipping away from her. 

AxdeD went on. " I want to know about yourself, I am sure that' 
yon are in troubk — trrmble of soma deflnite kind that perhaps I oan 
Kelp ;oa in. Mrs. Kenwny, don't you remember our talk at the 
SAtay, and your promise that if you ever needed a friend's help you'd 
UA mo give it ? You sai-1 then that the time wasn't likely to 
bnt I felt aoinchow that it would. .And, -hough 1' 






t that 



. this morning because 1 hail a kind 

Wtoted somebody. Will you trust me?" 

Koonkli leaned forward and looked at him earnestly, her arms clasps 
tog ber knecB in that childlike attitude of hers. 

"I will; I will, indeed!" siie said brokenly, "1 think you can 
kelp me. lam in great trouble, tind I have no reinllona and no friends 
— except Zen, I can't write to Zeu because of Bufltnoo. I doro not 
Rin any risk of my husband finding out where I have taken my boys, 
till wo have gone quite away. He would try to got them from me. 
But you will go to Zen, Lord Ardeo, nnd tell her; and she will oomo 
tome. lean trust Zen. I know sbe will gkdiy help me; and she ii 
the (>Dly person I could take help from — ul that kind." 

Lord Arden underatnod her meaning. He dreaiied to say an 
vhith couJd wound her sensitive pride. " I am certain you may 
on Mrs, Eustace's good heart," he said warmly. "I will gladly go 
)uT and explain everytlitng. But, Mrs. Kenway, I don't know y 
what has happened. I can only guess." Qe hesitated a little^ thi 
Iteeaw tlio (ainl colour riising to her cheeks, and went on hurrjcdli 
"Tou have not been hojipy with your ImwImmL . $^eca*it«%<' 



u M^^l 



■r»r 



300 



'THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 



iltugrenrncnt ; and yoa want lo go liaok to your own people and td 
your chiUlron." 

*■ YeB," eha Miswered aimply. " Pra going away. My n 
hu been a terribla mistake. It's all ended now, Wa hafe bi 
ngTEod that it ia beat to. We can neTer come togetlier aguii 

" But," he said, hesifattng agaJn, " if yon hnye agreed, Uiure m^ I 
be RiJinu ecLtlement — soma annngement. And tha children?" 

"Oh," she cried posaionately, "dun't you Bee? Wa can 
together agnin — be does not wish it. But he wants to punish n 
separating cie Trom my children." 

"Is there no aliemative?" he urged. "Tour friends— yoor ft 
might mediate" 

Shs shook her head. " It's no ii9(^. I've thought it all out. * 
nothing for me to do hut to go back to AuEtralia. I must leave thi> 
house at once— ibis very day. L must hide myself somewhere tlU tb> 
Bt«amer starts. He doesn't think that I will take the bc^s, twcaoae 
I have no money. But Zen will give me aome, and I shull he free." 
The yearning of an imprisoned soul was in K^wrMi's tone. Ardea 
was inexpressibly touched, " I can't give up my children," she went 
on, with gatberiog agitation. " No one could have the heart to tall 
me that it would be right. Ko one could tell me that I roust go tm 
BuQering — go on living a life of de<^ada|.ioii. I have borne so much; 
I can bear no more." She covered her face with her handa for a 
moment, Ibcn looked at him again. "I am not altogetUor aeljiah," 
she add<^d mora quietly. "It is for their sake as well ai for my owe. 
I should dfsarve puniahment if I allowed my boys to grow up iutu 
men like their fatter." 

Her lips tightened resolutely. Her face had iQ't its eipresaion of 
pathM and hclplesaness. It was hurd and cold ; the face of a woman 
who has enduTi-d the utmost possible to her and will bond no more. 
He saw that aha had tal:en the law inbD her own hands, and that 
whatever her case might be slie would a>!mit no argument upon il 
It was his assumption that she was justilietl in the course she meant 
to take. He had no good opinion of Crichton Kenwny, whose 
character, he had learned by one of those aocidenta which reveal 
aomothiof; of a man's private life, did not bear scrutiny. He bad 
watched KooriUi in her relations with her husband, and bad admired 
her loyalty and her patience. Ha knew that only strong provocaliou 
rould have forced fnwn her the words she had just uttered. Ha fell 
that he bod no right to ask any questions. There was a short silenoe. 
Koorili broke it. 

" I see that you doubt whether I am acting wisely," she aaid qui 

" You do not know everything ; and I cannot teL you. I can * 

tell any one. If you knew, you would see that there is no otherfl 

can lead. I am not grasping happiness at the cost of duty. W 

nesH for me In this world except what comes thifl 

I b.ive a right to take them till they ai 




He felt 
I silenoe. 

lqmg||J| 

1 



KOORALZ'S LETTER. 

tw t>rOu(;1it up at schtio!, Then, perhaps, Bomclhiii^ may be arine^ed ■ ^ 
but not now. I don't claim more than my right. 1 doit't forget wliotfl 
they owe W their fiitlier, or what I owe to my huBband," ■ 

Slje spoke rapidiy, with undertoned decision, and her eyes met hin'^ 

fixedly. He Beemed lost in thouglit. Budikuly be got ii[> and itlooill 

rher. 

' How soon do you witnt to leave this house ? " bo asked. 
To-day! toiiay I As soon as ever 1 cati, I mvnt get out of this'l 
idace before many hciura ; before on hour, if I can." 

" But, Icil nie ; ivliy are yuu iu ewch haste ? Can't you wait ei 
i)fitil to-morrow?" 

, *'0h, to-morrow, to-morrow I" she eselaimed passionately ; "lb 
la no to-morrow for me — I must go nt once. Now, now, now I " 

" Are you afraid," he asked, " thnt your husband will come hock and 1 
do you Bome barm?" 

" Ko, DO ; ha will not come. I was not thinking of him. Oh. I " 
Aery broke fiom her, a cry of alarm leal she should have betrayed hn 
•eeret. She hail betrayed it. Arden knew now why she was eager to 
go ftt onc«. He, loo, felt that Ae must gn; that tthe must nut stay j 
— hour longer in that house. J 

it you knew all," she cried imprif icntly, " you would know that I J 
wn doing right, and that there is noil ling else for me to do." 1 

••I am sure you are doing right," Arden said; " I am aure there ia I 
nfthing eUo for you to do, since you tell me so." J 

■'Oh, thank you, ever so much!" She could have kiased his hand] 
the fervour of her gratefulness to him for hia belief in her. Sol 
_.TOW is the horizon of humanity's mood of joy or sorrow, that the- J 
rush of a, sensation almost like delight filled and fioodcd her soul at Che4 
jnere thought that in that hour of triFiI she was not utterly alone ; that 1 
Ihe aympalhy and the trust of one generous heart sustained her. 

"I understand enough," Arden B.iid. "There's no need for n: 
tell you that I feel tor you deeply. I was not thinkmg of whether you 
•re right or wroog. I take your word. I'm only concerned as to how 
I can beat help you, and a phm has occurred to me- You are right ; 
jroii must leave at onoe. Have yuu any idea when the Australian 



Yes. Next Tuesday, I think— the 22nd, I Ihought," she added, J 
a.titt a moment's pause, " that 1 could find soma lodging whgre ii< 
rould think of looking for rne." 
" CMi no," he escliumed, " that wouldn't do. You roust uut hidftfl 
reelf in that sort of way. 'i here most be no suggestion that yoxiM 
leaving England under a cloud. Don't you nee," he went oi 
nntlo impuriousnesa, for she had looked up at him in a pained, 
derlng way, " that you are a woman who has attracted a );reat deal of^ 
stiention, Mrs. Kenway, and society won't bo content to let you slip 
«nt of it* sight unnoticed ? It is very important that people should 
' ba allowed a chance of sayiag ill-natured things." 
^ft—1. Itnow," she said; "but I ean't help it, and I mustn't 



joa '^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 

miod. I am Icnvins my htisband, and of roursc " Bha bruke (fl ] 

abruptly. 

" 1 want you to come to my father's, and Btny there with your boji 
till you snjl. I will bring your aiattr-io-Uw tu you." 

KooiiU startwl and shriink buck. "Lord ForrcHt. Oh not Icouliu'i. 
Whilf would he think?" , 

"NolliiiiR excefit what ia kind arid chivalrous. It wouldbeadeliEU 
\e> him to be of service to you, Mra. Kenway. Ha has the gr^test j 
liking and mlsairution for yuu. Vuu would not be r&fe at your nistei- 
iti-lnw's, ] mean that your hutbnnd — oi' — or — any one who wanttd I 
to find you would naturally look for you tliere ; and besides, Booietj 
doesn't know -tetj much about Urs. Eustace Kenway. No ; you musl 
think of your chililrEn and yourfnthet and your friends; andyoumuM 
leave this country in such a way thut spite itself could find nothing to 
say against yori. Now, Mrs. Kenway, my fiither has odd, eecflntrio 
wsys, and he docs not fall in with the new timea or irith s^iciety; but ' 
I nm proud tu be able to say that what you do with his sanctbn and 
under the shelter of bis authority iind hia care will be held by society 
to be well done. No one living will sus|iect him of countenancing s 
wrong thing or hcljiing man or woman who did not lieEervo the help of 
every gentleman and every ChrisLian. Come, you seo tliat I am right." 

She put out her band in eilcnt gralittide. He took it in his, nusfd 
it chivalrously to his lipe, and then oijly Baid, "Oorae, let iia make our 
arrangemBnta," 

She felt that he was ri"ht. Ho had removed the one difficulty out 
f.r her path. She would be aafe in every way under Lord Forrest's 
roof until she could eaU with her lioys. 'ITiere waa a streak of melan- 
chnl^ humoiir in the thought whi-ch came into her mind thiit Crichtoa 
Kenway might be trusted not to say a word in disapproval of any 
arrangement »hich wa^ sanctioned by Lord Forrest; indeed, would 

Erobably feel rather proud that his wife had found shelter evpn from 
im under the roof of this grand old Jacobite peer. She felt safe now. 
She knew that she could save heraelf and Morse. 

"Vou would like to bo alone now for a little?" Ardon said, after 
they had settled about her goina to his father's house. 
"Yes," she said; ■'! should like to be alone for a littie— juslalittle.' 
She bad still something to do. Perhaps Arden could have guessed 
what it was. 

Koor&li's arrangements were m.ide, her trunks were packed, her 
children, wondering where they wcie lo be taken, were dressed and 
waiting in the nursery. There still remained some little time before 
the hour Arden had li\cd for her to meet him at Forrest House. He 
h^ thought it wiser that he should not return fur her, but that Bh9 
should leave her husband's roof alone. 

She had looked round the familiar rooms, and had wondered vaguely 
what Crichton would say and do when he came bnok and found them 
empty. She bad said her farewell to them and to tlie associ-Mions of 
her married life. She had no lingering regrets, no sentimental desirs 



•'^dottlm'stsffEE. 






^^^(faJI; wilh Ibe situation, lliere was in her heart no fuclins of 
Hatomtowards her husban<l, uf ■fxly or persucol sorrow. Sho hod _ 
^^^^Hball tbntt The greater bad sivaibwod u^ the Iosr. WaA abe 
^^^^HM him there might have been room for wifely emgtion. As it 
^^^^Bpftemed to Her now that she bad oevcr been his wife ftt nil in 
^^^^Hand noble asDaeof the word ; aod this acvemnce of their lives 
^^^^^nring npsration in life-surgcr; rather tliim a catastrophe. She 
^^^^^■wd bejond the limit of conventionat feeling. She was experl* 
^^^^^■B ordeat in which only the tiding ingiincts of her nature sur- 
^^^^^BS"!? nnd !otc, 

B^Vnm was one lost tssk to bo performed, the bitterest, Ibe bftrdcsl 
W^h fiyo o'clock Morse would come. He, too, would find tlie houi 
I empty of her. She had not ventured to write to him at his tiwn b< 
foe Ma club, or to the House of Commons. She did not know whn 
I movements might be, and feared lest her letter might not rench 
I &tt» went into her own little 8ittin[;-rocm, where she hnd reei 
I Arden, and set herself to write. But the pen dropped from her fingorfc 
I Sbo leaned her elbows on the writinE-tabie and buried her face in het 
I hands. It wag over — the brfght droatn which hnd first shone upon her 
I fju^faood, and which had come again shedding such mdiance over 1 

■ grey life. Before her all seemed black as night. She could imngi 

K no future. The conflict she had Roae through was aj the wreucli 
I between body and soul. It was like death— now that the struggle 
K WW ovfl'. The souJ had parted from the body ; a corpse remainwi. 
I But the work Khe hnd yet to do must be done. 8ho rallied all her 
I rtrongth of heart and mind, and alio wrote a letter to Morae. Bhe 
F'gaTfl herself no fiirtber time to think; she wrote it at breathless 
L Bpeed, though the tears sometimes blinded her. lliea she gave it to 
kM maid and told her what to do. 

At five o'clock Morse came to the deserted house. He asked for 
I Hre. Crichton Kenwiiy, and woa shown upatiiira into her little sitling- 
L room. He assumed that she was waiting for him. His heart WBd 
I ateel in its determination. Nothing on earth was worth much to him 
I any more but only KoorMi. He closed his mind against all thought 
I til what the world would sayj all that was over. He had resisted 
w OTBry impulse to eeek her loTe until fute throw them togatharj left 
I tlrtm aide by side and alone. They were aa two who have beca put 
I nflhore on some desert island in the midst of a vast ocean and left 

■ tfaerealone. What wereaociety's laws, cnnventionaUty'a laws, for them? 
\ ^11 he wanted now waa to get out of England with bor, caring little 
I where they went, bo that it was out of England. In the hittomeBs of ' 
I l»i» heart ho hoped that he might never see England agrun— never,* ^ 
I ueT«r again. J 
I A woman's step was heard. Morse wna standing with his back Vfi 
c the Drqjlace. He made a movement forward ; but it was nut Eoorltii 

I who came. It was Koor^li's maid. 

I "Plesae, sir," she said, "Mrs. Kenway has just gone ont ; but she 

^julr-* tm to give you this letUii." The ^1 f ut a letter into Mucse'a 



30* •'THE RIGHT HONOURABLE:' 

Imtid, buBipd heneir ft moment in brightening the light of tbe li 
vid tiien left him alone. 

' .Hone looked at tlie icltcr. Too well alreadyhekiiew wliat ilwo_ 
Wl him. She was goaa from him fur ever 1 It did cot netO nn 

Setic «uul to tcU bim that. With an iron compasore ba drew 4 
up nearer lo Lim, and ho read Soorili's letter. 

"Mt Debt, aljiobt ky Osly Friend, 

" You will not be angry with me for what la " - 

linow you will nol, when you thank it over. There is nothing elso fcf I 
nte lo do — and fur you. I am going away; Iain going backtn 
father in SouUi Britain. I am going to begin life tiU over ngoin— 
-nbnt a diCTerence 1 

" You will not try to Boe me ogain ; I know ynu will not, ei 
you. It would not !« pussible for us lo meet again just now. 
thought that it would not be right to put you to the useless pun d 
sei'ing me — since we niuat ee[iejate; and ao 1 have tAbeii o 
dedde for both. 

" Thiuk of yoUTielf, my friend— of your career and your country. 
Ah ! even if 1 could forget myself and my children and my God, I 
could not forget you 1 1 could not forget what is due t« you and 
your fulure and your fume. Ttoj will forpFe your wife: it wm only 

. .. ._ .. . I-... niust remember her nesocialionswidhM 



's weHkness. Vou mvist remember her nsBociationsuidhM 
bringing-up. She ia not to be tto much blamed \ and, thi n, are w" 
not all lo be blnmed? 

" Ferboj'B, some time long distant now, whtn you are older, when I 
am old, yiiu will come out to ^-oiiih Britain again end see the plnc«E 
you knew there and some of the fiiendn. PerbapK we sbnll talk over 
all this, and then 1 Gball bo able to tell you all I feel, alt I have fdi, 
without fenr or shame. 

"I could keep writing on and on, but to whnt end? You know ill 
that I co'old say. 1 froy lor you.j 1 hope for you. Good-liyel 

" KoobIll" 



CHAPTER SXXVU. 



Ddsk wna gathering when Morse left Koorlli's houae. It «JHB 
gloomy evening, and the sky was heavy with gathering snow. Hart >' 
and there lamps twinkleiJ, but tho western horiion was rod still, and 
tho old grey chun:h at the end of the street, its sinre and bnttlemunita 
outlined in white, stood out venerable and solemn agfunst dull ooppor- 
colourcd clouds, and seemed to rebuke the fe^'er and fret of human 
passion. Ycstcrday''s snow lay yet on the ground, and hung on the 
trees, but its beauty was gone, ita purity sullied. 
Morse walked on like a man in a dream, his footsteps crunching ths ' 
1 with monotonous regularity. Ue fuund himself WMmm 




r iVILL ORDER MY H^ART TO BEAR ITP 



^^ . . the Green Park. For a while he bub hnrdly consoioiw of his 
, aovententa. Ha was making fur his doaoliito hoojB, but he scarce 
' knew nhy be viai going there, or, indeed, wliitlier he was going, 

Presently lie got into the stroetA again. Aa old croBBing-eweejwr 
vhom ho knetr touched Lis hnt, looking aa tliough he had Gomething 
to say, and Morse, still in a dream, found himself stepping to speak to 
the man. 

"Bad limes these," Morso said tnechanioally, oa he put a coin into 
the sweeper's hand, and ihcn he eorrectml hiiUBelt witli n harsh liLtlo 
tau;h. " Good for yoii, my friend, and more dirty weather coraiiy. 
Yuu should be thankfuL" 

"ITiank you, sir," Kiid the man ; and ho looked at Morse with that 
odd, wistful, moralizing eipression which may bo noiiced sometimes 
on the Gices of tbo.ee who hare seen better days but are resigned to 
circiunstanceg, "Life is as it comes, sir. It has its paina and pleasures. 
Mid a deal more pain than pleasure. But you're in the right. Thank- 
fulness is the cheapest sauce lor both." 

"Toii've seen a good deal of Ufe, and that's your conclusion ?" Ba'd 

" Yes, sir, close on aisty years, and thirty of them married years, 
tl^t camu to an end yesterday." 

" What do you mean?" said M-crae again with his harsh laugh.. 
" Has your wife nm away from you ?" J 

"No, mt; she went straight all her life, and she brought me M 
ftinlly that's dead or gone crooked. And there was only ua two leftj 
sad she died yesterday. We oevor had a quarrel all those thirtyl 
yeare, and that's more, sir, than most married couples could say — high 

The man turned abruptly away, ancl beg>in to sweep vigorously, 

"You're right, my friend," said Morse in a bitter tone. "That's 
more than many a married oouplo can say, even after ten years or less. 
You have had thirty — thirty years of confidence and affection. Well, 
as you say, tbankfnlaeaa is the cheapest sauce for either iileasure or 
pain. I'm very sorry for you." 

He put some more money into tho man's hand, and psssed quickly 
on, with the thought biting his heart that parting by death from some 
]aTed one is nut the worst trial that can befall a human comxuinionahip, 
'Xhen he eeemed to loaa aelf-consciousness again until he became aware 
that he was in his own study and that he had taken n Tulunio olT the 
tabk and was looking int« it. It was a volume of Horace. He had 
opened it at the fifth Killre nf the second book, and Lis eyes rested on 
• COttwin worda — "Fortem Loc animum tolentre jubebo." 

" I will order my stout heart to bear it." Such is the noble language 
in which Horace, not always one to appreciate high resolve, tmkes 
UlysBea answer to the question, — "What will you do should cruel 
misfortune blight your dearest hopes?" Will Morse now order his 
dtout heart to bear the sudden blight that has come over his dearest 
hopes? Will ho crush down liis ardent longings; rouse liiniaelf from"! 



1 



1 J»J 



306 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

bis dranin of r^oct union in Kni« br^tT Edni> anil aoeli coaaililM 
In nil Ihn crnieal oomiminplnces which prorlaim that ihera ciiD l"" 
Abiding b»)n)in»&i, no coJurin!! liamtonv of souls? Will hege' 
to bl« " w»i'ld of men," detcmjinfd to fut^t the ivoinHn he lortd a 
Tor wb<im ho would have given up all ? A man al high purnvw, « 
ftt least wishea always to do righ^ wilt stoutly bear such a bW. ] 
will rcfnsQ to seek any relief from pain, and will go on ns befon nf 
the business of hia life. Buffering indeed, but unsubdued j or ■ 
adiDiltiiig that be cannot quite endure it for the time, will Beekfli 
traction, perhaps in travel, with tbosinctre, strong wish to find IimI'" 
or hia wound and to come back and do his duly in hia world uf n! 
When ttie first shock sad pain were over, Morse in hi^ heart acltsow- 
lodg^ that Koor&li had done right ; licit nowlcdgcd that her woqiui'a 
nature had taught her a higher lesson oi duty than lie had lenraed in 
all his man's expericnoo snd fiom man's code uf honotir. ' 

But ho had been hit hard- Wbeu, stAiiiliag in her room, be fird 
raad her letter, he flung out both arms like a utan who had received a 
biillet in tbo chest. Un had known what was coming; yes ; but be 
fult the ahook nil the same ; even as one who goes into a. ba.ttle with 
full forsbcding that he is 10 die there yet tosses u^i his arms convul- 
sively when the bullet comes that kills him. 

Mow that first shock was over, and be wos once more in hia lonely 
room brooding over all that had passed. He had thrown himself xipm 
the broad leather ooucb near the window, and was sitting, bis clboW'' 
ou the back of it, his chin u]X)n hisband.i, his eyes aimlessly sttiacl«d 
by tiial painting of a desolate, snowy landaca|>e that hung over tbe 
mantel-piece opposite. The light of a gas-jet fell on tbe picture tind 
gave it a startling prominence. The long, straisht, lonely rood which 
cut it in two and stretched to the red honzoa ; the wasto of untrodden 
enow on either side ; tbe gnarled willows in the foreground ; a solitary 
figure outlined agn^inst the sky ; a certain wcirdneas and melancholy 
Bii^oetivenesB in the whole conception, simple as it was, all caught 
Morse's mood, and seemed to him typical of bis ovra condition. It re- 
minded him in some strange way of tbe wide stretch of meadow below 
the Groy Manor where he had walked with Koor^li. Uo imngined tbe 
meadows now, Bnow-covercd, bleak ; slricken, like hia and her feeling 
for one another, which had then been so innocent <if ivrong, so tender, 
so sadly sweet. He thought of her bright, gentle ways that afternoon; 
of her giri-lika pleasure in hor recda and flowers; of tho light that had 
coroo into her face at the sight of bim. He tbouf ht of her with bar 
cbildrec; and into this rucoUectiou of her there stole a feeling uf 
siiaotity, and then a deep hopeless regret. Ob, what unfading hatnn- 
neas for both, bad she been Lis wife, the mother of his children I Ilow 
tenderly he would have guarded her against any shadow of pain, lot*] 
what fulness of IjQHuty and jwrfume would her nature have blossomed 

ondor hia ioviug uare. While the good to himsult Are not such 

women as KoorMi heaven-sent guides to load men tonoblo Ihingst. r 
And now be must uover ece hei' more. They must each go their V^^H 



*■"/ tr/LZ. ORDER MY HEART TO BEAR 

<! nolhing would reniMn for pithcr but a seared tnemory. Ho must 

ivcl lii* roEul in loneliDess, and afae in vorM than loDeliness. Better 
never met. Ho bad meant her so much good I He hod 
""ttiiphl bur only aorrow ! 

A groan hnrst from him. He covered his face, and in the solitudo 
^r (he ruom a great Bob shook hia strong frume. Soul and body teemed 
Jo spend theinselveg in tho cry, " KooriU I Koorlli ! " To think of 
w cruelly treated, miapriKBd, when to liim she would havo houn the 
, y^sej light of life. Goal it was mnddetiing. Could there l« any 
Mtadme of an overrating Providenco in thia phanfaaiaof existence — 
ingleM tangle of incongruitiea and contmdlctioos? Either a 
tat of derilB had tha manngement of adoirB and were playing at an 
infwnnl giime with human henrCa for counters, or cverythiug wm 
chaQCSi and love and belief and all the deeper emotions uf hiimtinity 
mere pane cf the gbaetly joke. 

Wmle he thus brooded, a huah seemed to fall upon liim as though 
an iovleihle baud had been Inid upon liia ahouldnr or a presence in the 
room were in some wny making itself felt. Ho looked up suddi-nlynnd 
wUdly. All was as it bad been. The light still shone brightly upon 
Ihe pioture, and on that lonely fig-ure plodding on through the snow. 
Only the fire had gone down. Be must have beea sitting there a long 
time J he wondered mechanically how long, and got up and looked at 
tfae oiock, though a moment later the hour had passed from hta mind. 
He seated himself again, and, aa ha did bo, said aloud, with a hitler 
hard laugh, "Theres an end of it." 

His own voice at.utled him. It wns as if another voice had spoken. 
The bush deepened. Then there came upon him an experience not 
oommon with him. lie became aware of the presence or that subtle 
end mysterioua influence which even many a cold matcrinlist must at 
HotOA time have felt, the power without one's-self working not for goml 
bat for eviL Strange promptings rose in Moise'a mind. 1 1 was as 
thoBgh they came not froni the depths of his o\vn nature, iiut were 
whtepered to him from without. It was as though there were truth in 
tho theory which he hail eometimea alighted, that the human spirit 
must force ilB w^y through l^einga and powers of the unseen world, of 
which any hoiitila one may In momenta of depreeaion or mental dck- 
neas creep near and make its evil infiuence felt. A vdce st-emed to 
Bp«nk \a him, and to argue with him. 

•' Why try to rally against ihia blow in the old wivy of stoics and 
jdiilosopheraandChriHtians?" the voice said to him. "Let it pass; 
It ia nothing to a man of spirit. No woman ia worth all this coil. 
K>e would have disappointed you, or you would have dianppuinted her. 
Bha would have grown tired of you, or you would have grown tired of 
her. 8«e what has oome of your marriage; where is your wife now ? 
Women are only meant to ho the unusemeDtB and the plnythinge of 
itroQg and sensible men. You are young enough yet ; yoii have ^sar 
for enjoyment and ambition ; noihing else in life ia worth thinking d 
Ambition was your idol ; ninko it jour idol ngain. Go in for euccea 



inking «^H 
reucceai^H 




*THE RIGHT HONOURABLE* 

grmt in tlio wny tbiit other men become great 
bl folly ftud vain-glory to iuiagiiie that you ate . , 

isWid than the politiciAns ftroimJ you? Yon know IbM yq 
yourself is falsa. Tf ou tnow that ^Qtism ia iho root of "" 

m. You know that your love for the people is only ini 

oatne fur lore al power. Von know that in your heart you an' 
really devoted to any publio cause; this very day you woo" "" 
fluni; up every cause, every public object, for the snke of a 
Wliy smjrifiooany more for what you are not devoted to in you 
Why pretend to any regard for virtue and duly and all ihe roHt ijltl. 
You are not virtuoia ; you are lu love wilh another man's wife. Ton 
would liave gone off with hor, only the would not. Duty? youdiii 
not think much of your duty to your own wife — the wife of jow 
youth. You are just as bad aa other men. Don't l»e a hypocrite; pi 
in for takiu;: life as other men take it, aod get all the enjoyment yet 
can out of it. Qo and see Lady Warriner to-morrow" — this was • 

Setty and clever woman who openly professed a great admimtion for 
orse, and had tried in Tain to gel up a flirtatiou with him — " £rA 
will amuBO you ; and you need not restrain yourself aa long as nolhing 
cetB into the newspapers. When you are tired of hor you can dnni 
her and take up with soma other woman. Go in for Buccess in polios, 
and make youtseU Prime Minister, never mind by what means, and 
have all the enjoyment you can meanwhile. The world that bowls at 
you now will applaud you then ; and, as for your conscience and your 
Boul, see what you have dono irith them already I It is of no use 
trying to be any better than the rest of the world when you are not 
any ^tter. Other men get powe r and pleasure by being bad ; you are 
Uid; you know it. Why not have the power and the pleasure too ? " 
Thai subtlest, most demoralmug form of temptation, lo the really con- 
BcienUaus nature, the temptation to think that retriecal is hopeless, was 
rung with pitiless iteration into Morse's ear. " You have (alien i you 
cannot be again SB you were; be content 1^ bejustas bad us others, 
ance, afier all, they are no worse than you ! " 

Every one ia famiiar with tho etruggle that lakes jilace within him- 
self — the struggle of the two aides of the one nature; the deliberate 
weighing of right and wrong, of present gratification against after- 
penalty. But tho temptation to Morse seemed to come distinctly from 
without. All the time he knew that hia own soul held no such 
struggle aa that now forced on him ; he knew that the promptings he 
heard were not tho promptings of even the worse part of his nature or 
any part of his nature. They came from without, Tbot waa as clear 
to him aa any physical fact in the material world around him. Of 
course his nurvcs, hia spirit, hia senses, his heart, had been put to the 
severest strain by the events succeeding events of the last few days. 
The riots ; the death of Masterson ; the odious chains agtunst him- 
self ; the scene in the House of Clo'mmons — only yestei^y, and seeming 
already to far away; the desertion of Lady Betty, alxiiit the niiti) "' 
fijaturca of which bo knew nothing as yet ; his sudden, wild, desp 



^m 



li?. , - ■ . . ■ 

"/ WILL ORDER MY HEART TO BEAR IT." 30O 

'■effort to prersil on Kwirlli to po away with him; the shock of her dift-'n 
appearuice ; the pathos of her letter ; — nil this was tixi much for even 
bia etrong frame and brave spirit to bear. lie was in that CDodition of 
mind and body which blurs and conrnaes Ihe distinotion between ihe 
within and tlie without; between the real and the imreal; that con- 
dition to trMch, in the words of Schiller, the 1iins;doai of the ghosts is 
,ta easily ojicned. Morse did not believe even then, even fur the 
moment, that a Toice was actually speaking to him ob he stood in hia 
lonely room; and yet the words seemed to sound in hia ear as if they 
came straight jrom the lipa of aome tempter in bodily presencev 
, Again and again the sugge^tionf) of evil poured in upon him, and all 
the time he kept saying to himself, " These promplings are not mine-; 
they come from no part of my natur-ej they are foreign to me." No 
man was less open in bia ordinary condition to the inBuences which 
make men creduloun and supply the demntids of the meemerist and the 
Borcorer; end osen now, even in bis present condition, Morse tried to 
, piilL himself together and composedly examine into the real source of 
the appeal thus sounding in bis ears. But the more resolutely he 
watched, the more coolly he listened, the more distinct came the 
^'omptinga from without, " Enjoy lile ; live for power and pleaiuro. 
Your life, bo far, has been a failure every way because you vainly 
fancied you wore better tbiin other men, Ihink nolhing of any parti- 
cular woman. Shnmefor a strongman to make himself the dependent 
;Dr some one woman, 'i'nke women ae they come ; make piaythinga of 
'them; treat them aa other men do. If lile must end in remorse, ]et it, 
Btlrast, be lii-od out meanwhila in gratification of the only impulses 
' that make it bearable. You have earned for yourself remorse in any 
^ooae. Since you ore to pay the forfeit, why not enjoy the game?" 

Then, as one shakes himself free of a nightmare and breathes deeply 
And aWkca, Moriie got up Huddenly, flung the mood and the tcmpta- 
tioD from him. " I will order my stout henrt to bear it," he said to 
iumself. "I would have committed acrirae — yes; hut she haa saved 
Jot, 1 thank her, and I thank Heaven that made her. I will live 
■8 abe would have me live. She shall seo that 1 ain not unworthy to 
'be remembered by hpr." 

He bnriod his bend in hia hands and (*nra cnine into hia e 
'l"nra aoftiincd, relieved, and mode sti'ong bin heart. 



CHAPTER XXSVni. 

ZEK COUCB. 

Hslit and her cluldren were met almost at the entrance to FoTrest 
■ JlouBe by the old peer bifflself and a. stately ancient dame, bis house- 
Tjteeper. He received Koorlli with a chivalrous courtesy, a protecting 
tlMidemess that in ber forlorn and iniserablu state moved her nearly 



1 



■Wl 



''THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 



^^^^Fbun. Her nervt-a liad been bo craelly wruug, ahe had felt u It 
V the (ting of har di;pcuii«iico wUua brou;;ht &ce to &ce with the ^\ 
ftiul furovd, tuw that the uoment for Actioi) had coma, to naU" 
uttur Ldplessness without money and without rekiivea vha 
lake hiir part ftgaioRt the world, that la fiud herself thus Irfted 
K teouro tiifu^ befriended and boaoured by one whose vei; 
would be a shield •gtuant ailvitnay, wits relisf »' 
down the grim composura which Itad soatnincd hi 
A Kb ihook her roice when she tried to utter her thncba foi 
Forreat's greeting, in which he begged her to consider his hoiwa. 
and to command his entire service. She could only look up at 
with dimmed, frightened eyes and gratefully press ^e hanil ihi 
laben hers. She hnd the feeling of one in a dream when the t 
doors closed behind her on the outer world. Tlie square hall, 

by stained glass windows eniblazoiied in lU^norial designs, the rich- 

tiyiottry, the Strang carviags, the fifteen th-ctntu 17 cabinets, tb* 
Giihbio plaques and Palis^y wara, tba array of portraits (hat looked 
down from the walli like living people of a bygone time ; even tiie 
stately old nobleman, with his wbitB pointed beard, his deep-sol ditk 
eyes, his courtly bearing — all seemed part of her dream. The Bvrvaiiti, 
grave and digoiBed, ia harm"ny wiih their surrouudiDgs, stood teui 
as the old man oSered Koorali kia arm, unit led her up the brood stAtr- 
case, and along a corridor, 10 the suite of rooms which had been hiutilj 
prepared for her. 

The boye were a little awed and frightened by the strangeDt'sa and 
solemnity of it all. Miles clung to bia mother, gazing up at her wi'h 
scared, wistful eyes \ and Lonco uttered a dismayed ejaculation as she 
moved away with her host. But there wan somelhing in Lord Ardon'a 
cheery hand-ciwp. and he w:Uked on and looked bravely round hun 
at the paintings and the hrio-a-hrao, and aitked nu questions, like a 
well-mannered child. 

The wttiug-room into which Lord Forrest took Koorili had, too, 
an old-world tlavour of memories and aasociiiljuns. It put her iu ndnd 
of one of the rooms aha bod seen in the Little Trianon, and there was 
a melancholy suggestion of something feminine in the decorations, 
which were after the ptyle of the French Kegcncy — in the faded blue 
satin hangings, and in the arrangement of the furniture. 

The old man glanced round with the air of one to whom the jilaco 
was unfamiliar, and in whom it had aivakcned tender and half-poinfid 
reooUeotions. 

"This was my daughter's room, Mrs. Kenivay," he said, "and U b 
yours as long as you will honour my bouse by staying in it. You'll 
let me come and see you here sometimes, and you will pay me a visit 
by-and-by in my bookworm's comer? I am an old recluse, na you 
know, and I don't interfere much with Acdeo, who eat^rtiuus his 
friends in his own fnidiion ; but jou are my frleod and my guest as 
well as his, and I shall claim my rights over you." 

lie raised bcr hand to his lips na ho had once before done, and 



1 




■^7 



^Eiit COSIES. 

% bis leavf. KoorLli fouod wocJ« now. She cln-iiml iiia lianJ 
^Jiers, arid bar pntheti'} eye^t, wet with tears, met liis. 

'-onl Forrest I" ebe excliiiEnet), with a Bob, 'I don't km 
11 you wli^t I fecL I don't know bow ta thank yOn Tor beii 
. I had nobody. I was in troulile — " her i ' 
-"I did 80 wnnt help — and you hape helped 
'ft no dum oD you — or uiything. But I shall think of you Riid 
>0s«teAi1 to you when I am Tar away. I sbnll nernr forget 1" 
£ord Forrest loott-d at her gravely and tenderly. "Mydeur," ht 
"a man of my years and iny ways, who baa left biiusalf ao littia 

^—- e of doing good to any one, finds a benefaction conf^Troil on him 

Vtj any one who wants a htlpiog hand and allows hii to be Iha hand/ 
With, these words lie left her, 

tosently a maid, who aeenied already estiblished EisKoarMi'a ntfe'n- 
t, took the children away. 'X'be home-likeness deepened licr scnc« 
w ^rsn^nesB and degolatlon. 8ha leaned back and drew a quick 
breath 1^ a ^asp of pain. A clock on the mantel-piece struck liv& 
Tba knell — it was a knell to her — geomed a knife-thrust. Sbe gave t 
•tart, luid pressed bar hand to her bosom, as women do when they- 
sufTw. Her soul was ia her own little room at homo — the hiime she 
bad left for ever. It waa with Moree. Ah I did she not know that lie 
would be punctual to his tryst. It shiircd his anguish. He woulil 
lead her letter. Why had sbe not writteu mora tendeily? Why bad 
aha not paurcd Airth all the yearning and the sorrow that were in I 
heart? Why hiul she not taken that piMir comfort since abo had 
Bteraly denial to them both all other comfort ? 
Araen Buddealy came in. 

"Mrs. Kenwiiy, I am fpiing down to tho Priory, ani I shall bring 
rour aister-in-lnw back with me to-morrow, 1 hope. &Iy train leaver 
in half an hour." 

Keoi4iI gazed at him in a bewildsred 

are gcnng" — she said, in a strained to: 

n't know whether Zen is at the I'riory.' 

"Te^ slie 13 there," replied Arden. "1 telegraphed to her and have 
received her answitr. Tell me, ia there anything special you wish me 
to aay (o her, or will you tj^at me to do what I think best, and to bring 
iier ia -spite of any obstacle ? " 

Koorili got up from bar sent and stood before him, her hands 
^huped nervoosly. He saw thai slie was Lrcmbling with BuppressKd 
emotitm. 

" I don't know. I can think of nothing, cicept that I must loavo 
England at once; there must be no delay. Zen will come to ma. Ob 
ye*, I know that she will come, and that she will help me to go away, 
and to talte my chiLlrea. And I caa tniat her not to betray nio tomy 
husband. Oh, Lord jVrden, nothing must stop lae — " she spoke ■- "- 
pauionate undertime— "I'm trusting everything to you and Zen 

my peace — thepenoo of others — moro than you — ' — ■■ ''' 

mi my going away quickly." 



I 

H 




'^THE RIGHT HONOURABLE? 



ig tbwS^ 



lie took both her bonda in hia sad pressed iheiii, releasing 
ngAin in a muoient. 

■' Tou ishall go," he said firmly but soolhingly : " and in p«ace md 
eaCet;. Yoursteanier aaila in three riayg* time; I Lave fuund this out 
for certain, and all Bhall be arranged as you nisL I pledge mysell 
And now, liood-byo till lo-morrow. I will bring Zen," 

When he 'und gone Che atatelj houEekeeper hemelf brousbt Miles 
and Lance to their mutber. Sha stayed a littlewhile nnd talked about 
her maelcr and hia lonely life, nbout the dead girl irlio bad laog a°o 
occupied these rooms whicli bad been given to Kooiikli, About the 
pleasure she felt in seeing a lady in the house, and one ot wbom Lord 
Forrest thought sa much. No one, she Hwd, over stayed in Forrest 
House, except Lady Betty Morte, and she but ones in many years. 
Perhaps Mrs. Kenway did not know tbitt Lnily Betty was n connection 
of the family, which had not altogether approved of her marriage with 
Mr. Morse. To be sure, that was not to be wondered at, seeing bow 
things were, and that Lady Betty had, so to sjieak, been tr^ned to 
love the Queen and royal family. Every one knew that Mr, Morwi 
wanted to abolish monarchy and the House ol' Lords, and had secretly 
incited the riuiers in the recent outrages. WaA Mrs. Kenway seen the 
evening papers, which were full of suchdrendt'ul things about him? etc. 

Later, KoorMi dined alone with Lord Forrest. He too sixit:* cf 
Morse and I*dy Betty, though in different fnahiun. He was di'cplj 
concenied at Laity Betty's attitude towards her husband. He bsd 
learned that she intended to leave town immediately with bur father, 
and to stay at Lord Germilion'a place in the country. " Poor pretty 
butterfly I" be said musingly. *' The bright wings are not fittisi fur 
a rainy day. 'Ihey can only flutter in the sunshiae." KooiAli coidd 
not trust hersdf to speak of Lady Betty. She hid a sensation of 
suffocation. She scarcely dared raise her eyes. She was glad when 
Lord Forrest went on to talk of the political situation. London, he 
said, was alive with rumours. There was one Ihnt the ambRSsador 
had been recalled fmrn the capital of that State which was Englnud'a 
enemy, and that the Meditei'ranean squadron hnd receivol orders (u 
move. The Ministers hii'l been in close conclave that day. The paper* 
were howling at Morse, calling upon him to defend himself, Inmenling 
in terms, some ironical, and some sincere, the downfall of a Btateenuui, 
the ruin of a career. "We ara ruled by passion and panic," Ixitd 
Forrest snld. "Mob law prevails in Downing tjtreet as well at la 
Hyde Fitrk. The dynasty of a revolution must do homage to revolt" 
So the waking nightmare wore on only to repeat itself in faer broken 
Hlumbers. All through her dreams she was with Moi'Se and yet apart. 
Bis aorrowfLd eyes gazed at her throDgh mist and gloom. In the 
distance she saw bis fiice, Etem nnd impasGive no longer. She heanl 
his voice as from afar, shaken in passionate pleading. She struggled 
to reach him, to touch hia haad, to utter but one word of lovo and 
con.'^olation. She could not Kpenk. A force stronger than herself bon 
bcr jiivaj'. 'J he dumb ycnniing'wni^ iv^pny. It was as though her tm^ 



ZEN COAfES. 



erent. She awoUe with n eiy, nwoka to silence nod darbnesa 
eBB intense. Slia Btretohcd out her iirms wildly. Wore 

hew limbs ftealiand blood, with power to move, a force in nature; and 
JTHS this miRhty lovo a mere exhalnticiD, an unreality? Waa there no 
life for it.-and no immortality? Diil tluD wondrous affinity of son] 
Jnoan nothing? In the eternal code vi'\* there no low for spirit as for 
UinttnT, which should command like to like in everlasting uniou ? Was 
diere no solution now or in the hereafter of the terrible enigraaof love? 
Zen looked shy and not altogether like herself when she was ushered 
iQto one of the grent sombre rooms <if Forrest House where Koor^H was 
Wiling. Lord Arden had brought her almost to the door of the room, 
biit he felt that his presence might then be an embarroxsment to Eooi^li, 
>nd he left Zen to go in alone. 

The two women met in the middle of Ihe room, and E<vwUi was 
clasped in Zen's sturdy arras. 

"Oh, Zen," KiorSlli said, "I knew you would come. I k"aew that 
you'd stand by ma and help me." 

' Zen released the fmgile form, anil, holding it at a little distance, 
.gazed (it Koorfilt, her own brown eyes full of tears, 

" Well, now," alie said at loEt, in hrr Bpasmodio fashion, " 1 shouldn't 
bftve thought it wanted much knowing to make certain th^t I'd be a 
good pal to you, Kooi^li. Didn't I alivays say that it was you and 1 
'Bgamst the Family? Of course I'll stand by you, donr; aud, what is 
liiore, I have brought Eustace to stantl by yon too," 

A blnsh came over Zen's Cice as abe spo^e, hut Roor^li ifas too full 
of her own trouble to notice it 

''Eustace," she eiclaimed, shrinldng viaibly. "Oh, Zon, I didn't 
want you to tell him where I was." 

" I had to tell him," said Zen. She paused a moment. " Eustace 
and I ha»e hsd a mutual explanation," she added solemnly; "ain't 
that the way to put it ? But never mind nlxiut the explanation now ; 
it will keep. You needn't be afraid. 1 wili say for Eustace that Lo 
^ not one to split on a bargain ; and he and I have made a bargain." 
Zea paused again and blusheil, witL her grave yet somewhat em- 
horraHBi'd ur. 

"What sort of a lorgain, Zen?" KoorMi asked nervously. Bhe 
Iwgan to fear that she had been the cause of a (luarrcl hjtween tlie 
two, Zon undeceived her. 

" Never mind. We'll come to that presently. Anyhow, it has 
very little to do with you, and you'ro what we'vo got to think of now. 
Tell me all about it; you've quarrelled with Crichton, and you are 
revenging yuurseif upon him by running away and taking the 
children ? " 

" I'm going away, Zen ; but it \* not out of revenge. And Crichton 
does not care ao much ns I do about the children. He will not miss 



"I believe you there," said Zen. "He won't break his heart and 
cry his eyes out. And I suppose yuu have got as good a right to 1 



^^ 



"^THE RIGHT HONOURABLLr 

■ b» hu. 1 don't tbink holl try to get them back oDai 

And* th<tj «ie out of sight. If you want to get off in the dirk, M 
rUi, I'll manage it fur you ; but I'd like to t^ow what you rtilljfl 

Zen seated herself in » decided mnnner in one of Lord Ftw 
antique chnira, the anus of which penntd in her abuudant dnip« 
while the atraigbl back threw out her feathered French bonnet iD 
■tartling relief. A queer little smilo flickered over Zen's face, *loci 1 
had hitherto been becomingly seiioui. "I thinV Lord Acdenvoiud I 
say that I was tolerably incongruotis hero," lihe said porenthe^cAUf, 
her eyes roving round over the quaint carving and the tapestry nf" 
the nails; " I'd clean up all that pretty quick, or I'd have it da 
and put up some nice smart plush. Come, KoorMi, what does it 
mean, and why have you taken the bit between your teeth ? He told 
me not to ask questions, and I %von't, / shouldn't want ti ^'"' 
Crichton to Famesia. I'd make myself scarce. Crichton is 
be is a bully. But why don't you stop here, and let him be king ol 
the Cannibal Islands aU by himaelf ? Why don't you etop and Gght 
it otttr I wouldn't go to Australia when I could Lbtb my fun to 
London. I wouldn't climb down if 1 were you. Eustac* and 1 wiU 
stand by you; and as for the Family, why it will give them soiae 
occupation praying for the regenoraiion of your soul. Think of all 
the ftiends you've got here. There's Lord Forrest, the Morses, and— 
KoorMi, docs Mr. Morso know what you mean to do ? " Zen's btoTn 
eyes gazed at her Eister-ia-law with a suddenly puzzled expresuon in 
which there was a trace of alarm. 

" Yea," replied Koorlli steadily, " he linowa." 

Zen did nut speak for a moment or two. Eoorilli oould not brai 
her steady gaze for long, though she met it now without flinching. 
She kneeled down suddenly before Zen, and, taking Zen's hands in 
hers, said, without raising her eyes — 

** It's no use trying to argue with me, Zen dear. My mind is made 
up. I don't mean io accuse Crichton — to you or other people. Tou 
must oil think what you please; and ir you blame mr, perhaps I 
deserve it, though not as much as you fancy." 

" I Bhall not let any one blame you," eaclHimed Zen impetuously, 
" YoQ may be sure of that. It would take nothing abort of a uiracle 
to convince me that you were in the wrong," 

"I can't eiploin things to yon, Zen. You must only believe that 
thcTe la nothing else for me to do-nothing. I am very unhnppy, and 
my life is broken. I want to go away wiih my children, who are nil 
I have got in the world now, and be at peace for a little while. I 
mean to stay in Australia among my oivn people till the boys are 
older, and then something must be settled. 1 can't tell what. I am 
too miserable and perplexed to think; but I will try ta do whatever 
is right and just for them. I will not let my boys' prospeuta be 
injured through ine. Toumust just t«l;Bve all this, Zen. lamgcnug 
In secret, lecnuse if Crichton knew he would take the childranfr"' 



T 



^V ZEN COMES. , ,,„,i,to>»'',' 

4dl yoO' *" S^.,a brouKn' " ^.t good f^i'^^Ut it Itere «" " .o bim 
m«"^^ POuU r^'^^ ^X.^ DO end of »^° 1 dare Wj 1- '^ i£ 1 baA 



1 Bhi 



316 "THE RIGHT HONOURABLE." 

Aitlen (ule^plied T-esterday to ask if I could lake him in, k 
WAnttd to lee me about something particular, and I unswenrf a 
' Yei, of couree,' Eustace wns just starting off for a faroily sboH^ 
partT. I begged him not to disarmnge bis plana on luy acconnlil 
nalfy prefetri'd entertoiniag Lord Arden aione." Zen e^ve a 
Uttls laugh, which had in it something like Iho sound of a. sol 
never saw Euslaco so moved, KoorJtli, He turned white with 4 
Ho ordered the carriage round agaiu, and be dropped his cye^las 
Bail! that thou(!h 1 might choose to court ill-natured goesip, it W 
duty as my husband to protect roe a;>ainst it Well, then, I stonS 
nnd cried and ho listened. I told him that I knew he didn't cara I 
rae, and that he had only married ma for my money, when he wU '« 
love with that horrible womna in Florence. I told him all tliat nT 
BtopmothBr had said to me ; and then he was awfully horrlfleJ, sua 
we had titeh ciplanatioDS. And somehow it caina out that he reollr 
did care S'^t me, but thought I didn't care any more for him; andl 
told him 1 thought he didn't cane for me — and, anyhow, it's all ri;ht 
now, and I am bo happy about myself and so miaerablo about you, tW 
I don't quite know whether I ana laughing or crying." Indeed, poot 
Zen W.19 actually lauching and crying at once. " And it wm ail 
through you, Koor^li," she contiifod to say between smile and Bob, 
" that Eustace and I came together again. And he spohe out lik« it 
man about you, and naid Kenwxy was a c-cad, don't you know, buA 
that you oughtn't to live with liim any more; and that he wnulil 
Mtand by you against all the Family or fifty families combined. And 
wlien he s.iid that, didn't I juat give him a kiss? So it's all right non 
between us, anyhow," 

Even in her Iroublo KoorSli felt her heart thrill witli delight at the 
prospect of Zen's ha])pincss ; and she said £0 with an earnestnras that 
was almost passionate, 

"Idon'tknow how it is, Koorllll,'' Zen aaid,"but HO woman erer 
impressed mo as you ilid from the first. I felt drawn to you that night 
of the family dinner in the moet extraordinary way. You always 
made me feel that there is a lot nnore in life than one can see from the 
outside if one could only gut at it. I saw directly that yon weren't 
hapjiy, and that Cricbton was a Irate to you, and was only running 
you in society to get what he could through you, I saw it all — eyery- 
thing — and I think I know why you are going away, and I honour 
you. Yes, I do," Zen's voice faltered, " Go, dear, and God bloss 

Zen came again, later in the day, to report that Eustace had taken 
Koorih'a passage. She came many times during the following days, 
and was soon on quite friendly terms with the hall porter ot i'orresl 
House. She was not brought into contact with Ijonl Forrest, who in 
truth had a somewhat nervouia dread of robust Mra. Eustace Kenway, 
Arden managed the whole situation with commendable tact. Be 
shielded EoorTlli, encouraReil Zen, and brought Eustace to the for e la ., 
whioh was gratifying to every one. Zen tookujioi 






ZEN COMES. 



1 



the arrangemonfa that iiad to be mado. Zfb was nothing if slio 
■tot practical ; and half her itDpnrtasce in life woa gime tvbcti aho 
iu>t buying things. Sd ehe bought a ^treat inanj tbiugs, SIjd pruvitlod 
Oatlits for the bojii which would lutTs carried them through a three 
^MTs* cruiBe. She oihauated the reaouroes of Cremor'a in tho purchaae 
of toys, and she inyeal^d in a EinuU library to cheer Koorili'a dilil 

Bbe dill thiok of buying in Tottenham Court Road, and aurrep- 
liUously shipping furniture fur £oor^li'a homo in Aiutralin. but 
dented on Kuatace'a rcpresenta'ioD that Koorilli would stay with her 
father, and ihnt she could not keep her boys out there, and that Bumo 
sort of reooncilialion would probably be patched up when Crichton got 
tired of a bachelor life in Famesia, Iliough Eustace shrewdly opinwl 
that Crichton would lie pleaaed enough for a year or two to poaa na an 
injured and impJacablB husbnntl, and enjoy his salary all to binuclf. 
Zen bad a faint notion that KoorJLit migljt be ponsuiiilcd at some future 
day to come bach and lake up her abode at the Priory, but she suid 
nothing about it now. She had the quiclmo^ia to }>ercciTe that her 
cbMrful energy and prencoupntioa with material mioistrationa were 
more Boothisg to Koorilli t)ian atiy amount of spoken sympathy or 
high-minded aentiment, which wna not much in Zen'a line. Aa Zen 
eI.p^^ssed it, there was nothing to be done noi<r but to let Tirtuuus 
conaidemi iona aiide, and trick CrichC'iD and tlie Family. 

Zen took a malicious pleasure in foiling Crichton. He came up 
to town on learning of his wife's flight, furious against her, and 
threaleniDg-to set the detectives on her track. It wiia then that 
Eustace played a stroke of diiilomaoy. He met Crichton raging 
deolariDg tliat his name had been draggol in tho mire, and 
Koor^Ii bad disgraced bore elf before London. 

"I don't quite see what you are driving at," said Eustace, quif 

fixing his eye-glflSB after he had let Crichton atorm for a while. 

■uppose you and your wife baTS had a difference of opinion. Zeu and 
I often have difi'erences of opinion. Bhe runs away, or 1 run away, 
and we make them up again after a bit. You'i! make yours up afier 
a tuL As for dragsing your name in the mud; why, it needn't be 
draped. All that London thinks about yonr wife is that she must 
bo a Tory charming and clarer young woman to have got into the 
Itood graces of that exclusive old Jacolnle, Lord Forrtat. Ask Kitly 
Hevile-Beauchamp if slie wouldn't give a year of her lifo to be invited 
to spend ono hour at Forrest Honsc, to cheer Lord Forrest in one of h^ 
fits of depression." J 

" Do you mean llmt Koorlli is Etaying with Lord Foneat?" gaspM 
Ciichton. fl 

Eustace nodded impertnrbably. fl 

Crichton found bis breath almost taken away. If he had not 
quarrelled with Koorj\li, bo, too, might have been at Forrest Ilouao. 

** Have you seen her 7 " he asked in despnir. 
'Ah deaf) no," replied Euatjaa. ip^ MatMmiyi fur be had not then 



that 

"4 



318 "7"//£ RIGHT HONOURABLE.' \ 

seen Koorltii ; "nnd I hnve not Bpokea to Lord I''orrcst either. ]!c0 
heard it from Arden. 1 don't think I'd send the detectives to ForrEst 
House, Cfichton, if I were you. The old Jacobite mightn't like it." 

" Yes," Bftid Crichton, and hia brow was darkened, and Eustace felt, 
as he dropped his eyeglass, the incideut being over, that EoorUi'j 
wrongs were well-nigh nvenged. 



CHAPTER XXSIX. 



^ .*^ 



It waa Koorili's last day in London. No Una or meaaage hod 

Itoni Crichton. Ah a mitter of Tact, he had gone back to the Qnf 
Manor to ha present at a uountf function ; and moreover, he was nut 
particularly aniiouB to be seen ia Ifondon while the papers were still 
ftdl of the receut diecloaurea In the Piccadilly Qtattle, and siNuuIating 
as to their source. Ha wae in a naood of sullen wrath ag^nat EooriU ; 
but he had all the instincts of a bully, and waa less disposed to aake 
bimstlf actively disagreeable now that she was under the protection of 
powerful fiienda. It would not be pleasant to have any passage of 
arms with Lord Forrest and his son. He half hated aad half admired 
EoorMi for taking up so unissiulable a position. He did not for a 
moment believe that she really intended to give up England and the 
Bocial advantages she bad gained for the monotonous, uncongenial sort 
of life she must lead if she went out to her father. Besides, she bad no 
money, and she must ere long bo " starved out," as he phrased iL 
Crichton had a theory that everything must, sooner or later, be levelled 
down to the pecuniary basis. Ha did not suspect tus brother and Zen. 
So bo went down to Lyndfordshire in a fairly comfortable frame of 
mind, and was the guest of honour at a banquet given by the Liberola 
of Lyndcheater, where he was presented with a silver salvor in rec(^- 
nition of his services during the ekction, and a congratulatory oddr^ 
on his new appointment. He made a pretty little speech, with several 
tooching allusions In it to his wife, and contrived to make it generally 
known that Mrs. Crichton Kenway was staying with. Lord Formt, 
and that with Lord Forrest an average viscouutess ranked Uttle higgler 
than the wife of a provincial mayor. 

But KoorMi was in the dark as to his movements and sentiments. 
When Eustace told her that her husband was aware of her whereabouts, 
an intense terror seized her. She scarcely dared venture beyond her 
room. She longed with fuverish anxiety for the hour of departure. 
She implored Lord Arden to give Instnictiona that if Crichton presented 
himself at Forrest House he should bo denied admission. And yet, 
nmid all her terror, she h.id a v.'igue, trembling hope — or was it a 
deeper drcnd? — that he would write some word of kindness which, 
though it could niter nothing in tbeir relations, might at least Bortea • 
the memory ot their last terribla interview. Her married life ^|b 



r I m 

IN TltE AUSTRALIAN SUNSET. 31^ 

That had been said and done whicli was irrevocabla. She had" 
1 her soul her judge and ita own defender. No conventional 
BopUstries would ever change her feeling of rebellion i^ainat the 
"'iligations imposed by a marriage euch as hers — a union wbidi was 
very outrage on nature, a violation of Ihinga Bicred. 
But thw man whom sbe loathed and dcBpised, at the thought of 
whose kiss her flesh quivered in repulsion, waa ibe father of her 
cMldren. Her woman's heart writlied, and the iron in her melted, 
Tbu bond was a fact as definite as tliat of her own existence. The 
yoke might be borne in revolt and antifxitby, but it could cot be 
wholly laid aside There lay the cruel problem, the wrong not to be 
- dreMed since Nature hersulf inflicted it. 

The aftetcoou was grey and cold. A fog creeping stealthily, 
enveloped the houses on the oppoBito side of the square. Koorili was 
restleMi and excited. The world seemed slipping from her. On the 
ow she would be on the sea, and everything would be left behind 
r children only saved ; gone all else. She thought of the man she 
loved, and for whom lier heart ached in throbhiog pain. And yet 
it bounded, too, with something of elation. A little while ago she had 
learned ftoro Ardeu that the investigations taking place concerning 
the death of Masterson were already bringing to light the fact that 
Uorse had ^ain and again written to Masterson, warning him against 
any association with cosmopolitan and professional revolutionists from 
Uie Continent, and especially against the very men who wore now 
bdieved to have been in tlie actual employment of England's foreign 

Now jusUce would be done to him — now that the rattle of the war 
drum was sounding ; now when panic and passion had lakeu another '\ 

rise; now when it might bo too late to avert the disaster he hodB 
aded for his country; now when bis wife had left him and hisiV 
heart was desolate — now he might step on in his career and serra -4 
England. ^ 

A wild impulse came over Koorlli — perhaps on.e heaven-bom. She 
had heard that on the morrow, Lady Betty, loo, was going away — 
leaving London with her father. Did this mean that the breach 
between husband and wife was irreparable— that Morse must be aiways 
lonely, that he also must lose everything ? She knew well that his 
proud sprit would not stoop to conciliatory orortnrea. Oh, that she — 
Koorili— she who loved him, might go to Lady Betty, and plead with 
her aa woman to womsn, and implore her to return to her husband 
and give him her trust I Her resolution was quickly made. She took 
her courage ijetwecn her hands. She would not wait to reflect and 
doubt and wonder as to her reception. What did it matter if Lady 
Betty repulsed her? What did anything matter which concemw 
herself alone ? The thought of those two other lives was pasMonatcly 
[neent with her, and even deadeaal her own pain. She felt a fervid 
craving to do somethinp — she scarcely knew what — that might brina 
top;ether agwa the hiu^ud Mid wife who had once loved each other. 



"1 

ere had ueW^^ 



320 "r//£ RIGHT HONOURABLE.'^ 

The very iioppIcsBacsa ol her own mniri^^e, in which there li 
lieeu tinj Biinclity, made the pity of ihia marred marriiii^o, witli iUl il* 
clemcntB uf promise, seem the greater. The look in Lady Ceity's «}Bi 
when they had met in the Ladies' Qsllery, haunted her like n spectreof 
her own guilt. It wim readily cooiv-ivahle tbnt Laiiy Better IhAk 
guessed the state or Morse's feelin^B, and tlint this consdouanesSi rBlliifl 
than diTcrgeace iu polidcx, bad been the matnapring of lior Tefua^^| 
Rtand by him in his trouble. Eooi^i shivered in shame nnd remi^^H 
that she should hare brought pain to aaotlior woman. Qar peaavMil 
heart exaggerated th'i missuru of bl;Lme, and found justification fif 
Lady Betty. 

With tiembliDg hands she dressed herself in her outdoor things luul 
•vent downstairs, where she aaked for a cnb. It was not a Ion" diiva 
to Lord Gerrailioa's house. She sat quite still in the onh, > ' " ' 
hands clafiped tightly together. Slie wns buoyed up and Sli 
by a strange excitement. Lady Betty wns at homo, but it 
oertttiii if she would receive a Tisitor. Koor^li wrote a linf 
card, " I ani goin^ away to-morrow. May I not sea you to Uj ewn 
bye?" Aftvr a Ettie while the man came b.ick,aDd she wasIahea'H 
a small room where Lady Betty sat befota the fire alone. Ah Ko"* 
entered, she rose, and the two women stood fndng each other; 
smnll aud slender and young-luukLng — Kooi^ii, in her loug w: 
clonic, her bands still nervously pressing each other, her [ace very pale. 
with ae awed ex;>ressioa upon it, and her lips trembling; La^ly Betty 
the more composed of the two in manner, but with a burnin* spot on 
each cheeii, and n light, biilf resentful, bnlf won'Jertng, in her eyes. 
The eniotioti she was trying to oonccal ]>reTBnlod the siins of trouble 
and anxiety which her face showad Irom buln^ too noticeable. Never- 
ibfleas, Koorili knew by instinct that Lady Betty bad wi-pt much 
and slept little during the past few days nnd nighti. 

Lady Betty received her visitor with conventional, alraost l«o 
marked, politeness. She had the formal phrases ready. She offered 
t&i, and drew forward a chair. There was a strained, false not« |ik 
Lady Betty's voice that deepened Kooriili's sense of misery and help- 
lessness. Involuntarily she undid her cloak and veil, nitb the instinct 
that makes for breaking down barriers, A wall of ice seemed raised 
between herself and Lndy Betty. And yet L.iiiy Getty was Bmilina 
In her pretty, well-bred wsy, and aA\m% ea-^y questions, as thousn 
she had no part in the tragedy to which Koorali was bo keeiilv 

"I had no idea you wore going away bo soon, Mrs, Kenway," K 
Hetty said. "It is vory kind of you to come nnd bid me giwd-l; 
but I dare sny that you will be tired of Fiunesia befcre next MML 
nod Mr. Kcnway will got leave of absence. His friends miutnVJ 
Loid Coulmoot forget him. But you and he are not lihely lo ht 
gotten, even if, as the pagiera seaui to say to-day, there is a gnat 
to dlstTBOt our tbougbta." 
KooiiU Jlii m^t answer. SonieVUnft wicmed to bo chokiagl 



7* ■feS jnsfSAtjAft SVNSBT. 



Wly VvU.v titid Been the papora then, A dumb iodi^ntiM 
^^ — y>: (jjij ,[jjj ivoniaQ bcea sreat-souled, she would not play 

0UBnes3. Lady Bettj went on with forced oano, 

' *I am nlmost inclined to et\vy yoa when I tliiok of the cliitmle of 
"* ' It would be pleasant to find one's-self in n aunshiuy land 
My father is trying to peraunda me to go witli liim to Nioo, 
1b idwnyi! tfttoa flight with the swallows, you know, ond ho ia h 
IhAn liaual this year. There hns been ao much hajijwning — I mi 

Jto uncertainly about the war " 

Lady Betty paiiaed, and gave a quick litllf «lg)\. Her face chani 
ksd toen txicame hard again. There was a moment's Bijcncc. £ 
411 nade an abrupt movement, bending forward and lifting her hi 
Ulit flhfl would ewecp away flimsy preteucea. Her sad eyoa met Li 
Betty*! in o piercing earnestneaa thLit seemed to aim straight throuf 
lk9 pnud reserve in which Lady I!etty hod wrapped her^lf. 

*'Oi, Lady Dotty I" she csolaimcd with tremulous fervour. 

iriQ not leave England — and your husband who needs you — not nowj 
.OOtatBtieha time. Oh, do not be angry with me. I shall never 
, jfOU Bgain, perhaps, and I must speak what is in my heart. 
cars about myaelf. What docs it matter? But I know bow bard 
traoble is to bear; and when it hns come partly through one's own 
act — tbroueb a mistake. And then to see trouble and division between 
tkose who have loved each other— nod who — People for whom 
carea, whom one admires and honours ^ and not to try and help, 

when it seems presumption " 

Eoorali's Tvorda came brokenly. She had lost sight of cvorythi 
but the need, pressing mora and mora imperiously upon her, to ti _^ 
the BuiTering outside herself into a corrective of her own pain, and to 
Tserge the sense of personal loss into sympathy for another's loss and 
[offering. She rose in her agitation. 

Lady Betty, etill eented, cast a swift, long look at her — a look in 
which doubt, rcKentment, and some softer, nobler emotion struggled. 
" 7ou apeak of my husband and of me ? " she said in darting accents 
tiut stun? Koor^li like the blosvs of a lash. " Who has told you that 
Chen is division belween us? Was it ho who to!d you?" 

She got up and stood before KoorMi, All her cnlmneaB, her affe 
tittion of iodiffcrence, hftd gone. She was mure deeply moved ' 
KocnUi herself. Her breasit heavcxl. The passion and jealous . 
gained forth in lior eyes. Their steady Kazo was scorchiiig. 

"Who told you?" she repeated. "Was it my husband who 
to you and told you that 1 bad left hira to stflnd alone?" 

The blood leaped up and auffused KoorXli's face, dying down a^^ls 
almost aa qtuciily. This was the moment of which she had had the 
secret dread present with her all through her rnah impulsa. If Lady 
Betty flccuaed her I She felt like one guilty, arrwsnod before ^'•^ 
fietim. There was silence for a minute between the two won 
Koorlli'a palenesa had become dcatliliko. She stood quite 6|ieiMhl( 
■ "'p would have given hor life at tliat moment to !» '"' 



i 






affee^^ 



32a "TT/E RIGHT HONOURABLE." ■ 

Answer that sbe had not seen Moj-se, But she would te!l no lies. W^ 
had left deceit for ever behind her, and so she remained dumb. 

KporMi's Btrnnge quietude, her pnllor, an unconeciouB digoity and 
pathos which her face wore in nil its hard misery, impfessod Lady 
Betty S3 no words could have done. Koocfkli's aspect was a rebuke Cic 
her own want of Belf-controL She had betrayed herself. She had 
shown that she was jcaloua. A moment more, and she int^bt have 
apokon words be&tticg a womao in a melodrama. What was the uu 
of pride aod reserve now ? She bad put herself ioto a false positlin. 
She, Lady Betty, who had always piqued herself upon her ready tact 
and her capacity for avoiding scenca. 

She hated KoorMi then. Uer beautiful pa]acQ of life seemed in 
ruing, She had the fi;eling that through this woman it had been 
shattered, and she was awakening to hnd herself in a world of new 
experiences, where her poor little individuality shrivelled into nothing- 
ness, and where everything w.is harsh and crude. And, amid oil Uiat 
was bewildering, ehe had a vague perception oF something in Eoorill — 
some touch of nobility which she had never possessed. 

Her nature was ehiiken to the core. She had lojit all her bearings. 
Her cheeks reddened now. Passionate tears gathered in her cjee, and 
her lips quivered like those of a grief-striken child. She turned 
away with a half-hysterical sob, and leaned her bead against the high 
mantel-piece, 

Eoorali came a little nearer to her. She put out her hands in a 
generous, tender impulse, and tben let ihem fall again. Her heart 
yearned compassionately towards the woman who was Morse's wifo, 
and who was so frail a thing. Bat she dared not touch Lady Betty's 
Land yet. Her emotion farced iteolf into her voice and into the words 
she began to speak, scarcely knawinx what she said, full only of the 
ovennaatering desire tu give back to Morse something of what he had 
lost. 

" I knew that you were with Lord Germilion, and not in your own 
house ; and Lord Korrest told me that you were leaving Loodon. I 
came — it seemed so terrible that Mr. Morse should be alone — now, and 
that you should doubt or misunderstand him. It could not be mora 
than a misunderstanding. He is so good, so noble. And his wile — 
oh, to lose the trust and love of one whom we love and to whom «ra 
are bound — " s Rob checked EoorHli's utterance. She could only 
seize her thoughts brokenly. "Nothing could be so bad aa tliat — tu 
lose all we eared for most through a mistake. And then to feel, 
afterwards, tbnt we had been mistaken, and had judged wrongly; 
to know that but fot that, others whom we loved might have I 

Lady Betty turned a little. Eoorikli, vratching her every movem 
with intense anxiety, fancied that a slightly changed expressiui |i 
crept over her partly averted face ; but she did not speak. 

KiyjAM weDt on, her voice vibrating with increasing agitatioii. 
/, DO*- -I know what the Itiiacij w ol ^ mstaka in one's ir " """ — 




IN THE AUSTRALIAN SUNSET. 



abteke Trom tbe beginning, wlien it ivns all done in bllndacsa, 
there was never any lova or any trust. And to think tlie love should 
have boen there at Srst, and the happiness, ss in your marriage, and 
should ba in danger now I Oh, it's lilie watching some one drown, 
' ind not putting out a band. I couldn't — I couldn't go away — for ever, 

rhaps — and not come and Gpeak." 

Koorikli waited a moment; but still Lady Betty said nothing. She 
oaly looked up, and her eyes, full or tears, met Eoor&U's eysB, wet 
too, In s wistful, pathetic g^lauce. Then she drooped her head again, 
S^rUi put out her hand with a timid gestiu^ and Lady Betty's 
cilosed upon it, Koorili spoke on — 

■I may never see you or Mr. Horse any more. I'm going to 
Aliatislia to-morrow — bnck to my fnlhcr — 1 and luy boys. I shall 
never come to England to lend the eame lilo again. That's all ended, 
I've got nothing now but my children, and I want nothing else. I am 
not going to i'arnesia mtli my husband, I'm leaving mv bAisband 
becBuae — "she faltered — "becausa our marriage was not like yonra. 
"We never loved each other. He wishes me to go. Ho bus done whst 
is base. I will not have my children grow up to be like him. I will 
not live a life of falsehood. But you — it is all different with you. I 
don't core about myself. Fm doing what I know to be the only thing 
I can or ought to do ; and that is the end of it all. I'm thinking of 
Tou and of your hustand. Your place is by bis side^ — oh yes, yes, 
Lady Betty, He must have suffered so mucli since that day io the 
House, 'iho world is doing him justice now, and you will do hiiii 
justice, too?" 

Koorili broke down completely. The effort had been too great. 
She sobbed nnreetrainedly. Involuntarily Lady Betty made a move- 
ment towards her, and the two women clung to each other for a 
minat«, and kiiseed with a certain solemnity that wns In itself d pledge. 
KoorUi knew now that she had conquered. There was no need for 
words. lu such moments of crisis women's hearts speak. Tbsy were 
both weeping. Presently Lady Betty gently disengaged herself. 

" He would think — if I wrote to him now," she said in a childlike 
way between her sobs, "ha would think it was only because people 
thought well of him again. He would not know that I — " ahe 
hesitated, and the colour deepened in her fEice — " that I did not stand 

by him because " She stopped alt<^ether now, and instinctively 

drew back a little. 

"Ob, tell him that yoQ love him," said EoorMi in GtiRcd tones of 
sgony. It was the last effort of renunciation. She felt her strenf""- 
going, " Tou are his wife. He is too generous to ask fo 
that. What does anything matter if there is lovo ? " 

She could bear no more,' A feeling of diizinosa crept over her , 

minute. She put out her handa blindly. "Good-bye," she said." 
lady Betty took them in both hers, Eoor&li heard her voice aa if 
■* were a vnice in a dream. 

"Ikuow that you are a good wranan," Lady Betty sajd. "Good- 



IIS^H 



a of 



"THE RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 



fH^ 



_ B| I Bliall Dever ftffget yoii, I thrnik you for coming hew 
1 nope ynii nwy be happy with yoiir chil'lren." 

TbGCo wns an nccenl of tondeniois anil of tteutnei^ In tfas last wwJt. 
'lliFy ounvcyed t<) Koorlll — her Mnftitive nerves ctrung to keen reapJIi- 
■irenebt — ihftt she bad ods blessing which l-mly IktCy did not [Waffia. 
She hnd hi-r children. They kiascd each other again silently i and 
then KootMI weut away. 

That night Lady Betty wrote to her hueband a letter fall of aimiilnj 
Bweet poiiitcncc, nmking no excuse, but ouly Baking to be fn^mn. 
To d» nor juKtico, she hod only allowed hera^ to be overcome by her 
fntbprat nmuinunl when she was under the iiitiiinice of a etrnmupou 
iicr fi'eliiig^ which uaa already d mg^og her too far away from tbe 
even ct^uiiiotis of her life. In truth, she was longing to got back tj 
her hub band. 

And Uorxo for^nve her, knowin:; that be, too, needed fursiveoui. 
Sfce returned to her home, and Tcry few knew anylhiag aliout bnc 
ever having left it. Those few who did know or did guess were only 
too aniious to foi>;eC. Morse and she wilt live together — togelher and 
yet Dptirt. Together and apart? Is not that ihe cooditiou of maoy 
n mnniage which yet the world calla well-made aod happy? Aail 
Muriie gut B bflck lo his world of men. Ue has ordered his heart li) i 
bear stoutly what has tu be borne somehow. Hu does not forget; does 
not leel bound to forget. SometLmcs perhaps I.B(ly Betty Ends inhii 
manuer lo her au especial tciidcrneBs, a melnncholy protecting Eweet- 
nosB which she has aardly known before, and which at once pleases 
and (hieeIcb ber. Is it a paradox to say that his pure strong love for 
Koorili, whom he is never to sea again, makes hiiu mote gentle ihao 
ever to his wife ; more anxious to do her justice, to shelter her, to love 
her ? Nu ; it '\a no paradox — only the truth, the mere truth % and su 
— hallo 1 

1 he Etenmcr in which KoorM.i and her children had sailed was 
nithin the Great Barrier Reef. For several days the Australian coast 
hnd beeu in view, and all day and late into the night KourMi kid sat 
on deck watching ihe distant outlines of her native bind. 

And now tho Cnpe of Muttabarra and the lighthouse were in sighl. 
KoorUi WHB at the bulwarks with her boya beside her. Bhe ixiintod 
out her old home to them with steady hand, and Iter voice aid not 
falter as she told them how she had never )>een there since when little 
more thnn a child herself ^hc had put forth in the pilot-boat to see the 
world. 8he explained to them tne diiTcrent routes to England, and 
how she and their father hod gene by way of tho south ; and then she 
described the life on the station and tho i<ilot«. I'hcy spcciilnti'd on 
the changes that might have occBrred; atid they wondered if Grand- 
fether would be in the boat that was to take them off, and whether 
they would live altogether at Mnttabarra, or if a change of Ootatotnoit ■ 
would bring a Middltmist Ministry in nguin ^ 



IN THE AUSTRALIAN SUNSET. 



33S| 



KoorMi oftmi talked \a this vt&y to her bo;8. It was thus xhe 
Bcbooled herself to faco the now Ilia and to look calmly bnck upon tba 
Yet, though there was no faUcr in her voiso as she auswercd 
' I and replied to the cji|)tain whan ho came to tell her 
e about to Bignnl ths lighthouBe, hct smile tind tone 
" ceaiiel'SB angitieh of paiieace," tha endurance of a 
ija pain h»a pasaed its worst. Sjho hod wept eu mikuy 
^ihat now the fuuntaius of aorron' Bcemed to have run dry. Ilor 
hroien, aa aha had snid. It was as though the had touched 
deatli — the death of loul and nSectian — and had been allowed to live 
cm, but was sent back tu tho world all chill and numbed. This 
could not always he so. Douhtleaa, after years, the sevcicd flei^h 
would join, and pence, perhapa even a kind of baiiplnest, would be 
hers. Benewal is in ihe tawa of Nature aa well as (mange. The motit 
limited future is full of poesibilities, and God, when lie withholds for a 
time, may generously add to a late-giuon gift the rich senoo of duty 
fulfilled, or joy foregone for the eahe of right. But to Kooiili now ail 
was dark ; no speck of light yet showed her the ivay out of the cavern 
of gloom and death. 

'Ihe cliiidren left her, attracted by the hoisting of the (li^, and slie 
aat alone watching the Jamiliar headland as it rose nearer and larger. 
6he thuu<Jit of t^t morning whtn ia the brightness of damn she had 
bidden it farewell. She could see io fancy tha vaniehing boat. Bho 
could see herself, the slim, bareheaded girl, so light-hearted, so f>dt of 
hb^ and trust that it was pitiful to tiduk of her now, Tha old 
phrase came bnck to her ; the mimic title. Poor Little Quei*n I 8he 
had gone forth bo gaily to tako possosaion of her kingdom of hapjiincBS, 
aud she h^id found, as many ariother ead woman nos founii, only a 
kingdom of sorrow. 

Vet some good had come to her. She had seen a joy, although it 
was nnnttainablo for her. Lore had shone upon her as bright, thouf """ 
as far off, aa light from a star. After all, is it not the greatest good- 
to gain the knowledge of love aa an eternal reality, to be allowed 
bear with one, as a posscsaion foe ever, one's ideal, an ideal which 
cannot wither nor time disfigure nor Ufe's storms wear away ? 

Tho summer day was closing In. All round, tho sen lay still, and 
the rod suniiet was upon ocean and land. The litcainer had slackened 
speed. Now the boys flew back to their mother's side. KourUi took 
little UJIes in bor arms, snd Lance nuscd himself on a bench, huldinj 
fur support to her shoulder. A boat had put forth from the ci 
Koorilli stood with her children clinging to her, and the light of 
Australian sunset round her head. 



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iH "TJ/£ RIGHT HONOURABLE.' 

l>y«j 1 iliall never forget yoii. I thnnk you 6jr coming hero to-Jiy. 
1 hope you mny l)a hn|ipy with your children." 

Thers waa nn accent uf tendeniess and of Eadneiis in tba litat woriia, 
1'hpy conycyed t<i KooilU — bar aeiiBttive Derrea rtiun^ tu keen res;ian- 
tdvene(S-~-lhiit she hud ona blessing nhich lAily Uiitty did not posMHs. 
She bnd hir children. Tbej kisicd each otlicr again aiicnllyi rail 
Ibeo Kourilli went away. 

That n^ht Lady Betty wrote to her hueband a letter full of simple, 
sweet potiitcnco, niiiking no excuse, but only making to be firgireu. 
To du her justice, she had. only alluwod herself to be ororconie 'by ber 
fnUier at a mument whcB ehe wna under the itifincncaof a slrain upon 
Ler feelings which ivaa already drugging ber too far awny from thn 
even conuitiona bf her life. In truth, she was longing to get buck It) 
her huBband. 

And Si»rse foriinve her, knowin; that lie, too, neided for^ivenesft 
She lEIunvcd to her home, and. very few knew anything about hw 
ever having loft it. Those fuw who dtd l(iiow or diii gueta were only 
too anxioua to foi^^fet. Morso ant^ she will live together — blether and 
yet apart. Together and apart ? Is not that the condiiiou at man; 
A mniriage which yet the world calls well-made and happy? Asil 
Hilorke goiB bnck to his world of men. He has ordered bia heart to 
bear stoutly what has to bo bom« somohow. lio does not foi^et ; tloca 
nut I'eel bound tu forget. Sometimca perhaps Lady Betty finds in his 
manner to her an eiipecial tenderness, a melancholy protecting bwwI- 
iiti.13 which she haa iiardly known before, and which at once pleKSeK 
and ]>uzd('s lier. la it a paradox to say that his pure strong love for 
Koorili, whom he is never to aee again, maksn him more gentle than 
ever ta his wile ; more anxious to do her justice, to shelter her, to Iuyb 
her? No; it is no paradox — only the Inilh, llie mere truth: and bu 
— hftUol 

1 he steamer in which Koor&li and her children had saaled was 
within Iho Great Barrier Reef. For several days the Australian coast 
b.'id been in view, and nil day and Inte into the night Koor^li h;kd sat 
on dock watching the distant outlines of her native land. 

And now the Cape of Muttaborra and the lighthouse were in sight 
EoorMi WHS at the bulwarks with her boys beside her. She pointed 
out her old homo to them with steady hand, and her voice did not 
falter as she told them how she Lad never been there since when hlllt 
mora than a child herself she had put forth in the pilot-boat to see the 
world. She esphined to them the dllTerent routes to England, ind 
how she and ihvir father liad gone by way of thu south; and then ahe 
described the life on the station and ihe pilots. Thi'y spccul.ited on 
the changes that might Imve occurred [ and thty wondered if Grand- 
father would bo in the boat ih.it was to take them olf, and whether 
they would live aUdgelber nt Muttnlarra,orirachBOgi 
would brhig a Middlcmist Ministry in again 



riTTiftiir 

I