ENDYMION

by Benjamin Disraeli, Earl Of Beaconsfield, K. G. 

First Published 1880

CHAPTER I

It was a rich, warm night, at the beginning of August, when a gentlemanenveloped in a cloak, for he was in evening dress, emerged froma club-house at the top of St. James' Street, and descended thatcelebrated eminence. He had not proceeded more than half way down thestreet when, encountering a friend, he stopped with some abruptness. 

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

"What is it?"

"We can hardly talk about it here. "

"Shall we go to White's?"

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

So they crossed the street, and, at the corner of St. James' Place, metseveral gentlemen who had just come out of Brookes' Club-house. Thesesaluted the companions as they passed, and said, "Capital accountfrom Chiswick--Lord Howard says the chief will be in Downing Street onMonday. "

"It is of Chiswick that I am going to speak to you, " said the gentlemanin the cloak, putting his arm in that of his companion as they walkedon. "What I am about to tell you is known only to three persons, and isthe most sacred of secrets. Nothing but our friendship could authoriseme to impart it to you. "

"I hope it is something to your advantage, " said his companion. 

"Nothing of that sort; it is of yourself that I am thinking. Since ourpolitical estrangement, I have never had a contented moment. From ChristChurch, until that unhappy paralytic stroke, which broke up a governmentthat had lasted fifteen years, and might have continued fifteen more, weseemed always to have been working together. That we should again uniteis my dearest wish. A crisis is at hand. I want you to use it to youradvantage. Know then, that what they were just saying about Chiswickis moonshine. His case is hopeless, and it has been communicated to theKing. "

"Hopeless!"

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

"I thought he had a mission?" said his companion, with emotion; "and menwith missions do not disappear till they have fulfilled them. "

"But why did you think so? How often have I asked you for your groundsfor such a conviction! There are none. The man of the age is clearly theDuke, the saviour of Europe, in the perfection of manhood, and with aniron constitution. "

"The salvation of Europe is the affair of a past generation, " said hiscompanion. "We want something else now. The salvation of England shouldbe the subject rather of our present thoughts. "

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

"I have much, " said his friend. 

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

"Your taunt is fair, though it pains me. And I confess to you thatwhen I resolved to follow Canning and join his new allies, I had many atwinge. I was bred in the Tory camp; the Tories put me in Parliamentand gave me office; I lived with them and liked them; we dined andvoted together, and together pasquinaded our opponents. And yet, afterCastlereagh's death, to whom like yourself I was much attached, I hadgreat misgivings as to the position of our party, and the future of thecountry. I tried to drive them from my mind, and at last took refuge inCanning, who seemed just the man appointed for an age of transition. "

"But a transition to what?"

"Well, his foreign policy was Liberal. "

"The same as the Duke's; the same as poor dear Castlereagh's. Nothingmore unjust than the affected belief that there was any differencebetween them--a ruse of the Whigs to foster discord in our ranks. Andas for domestic affairs, no one is stouter against Parliamentary Reform, while he is for the Church and no surrender, though he may make aharmless speech now and then, as many of us do, in favour of theCatholic claims. "

"Well, we will not now pursue this old controversy, my dear Ferrars, particularly if it be true, as you say, that Mr. Canning now lies uponhis deathbed. "

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

"I am shaken to my very centre. "

"It is doubtless a great blow to you, " rejoined Mr. Ferrars, "and I wishto alleviate it. That is why I was looking for you. The King will, of course, send for the Duke, but I can tell you there will be adisposition to draw back our friends that left us, at least the youngerones of promise. If you are awake, there is no reason why you should notretain your office. "

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

"It is certain. "

"Well, " said his companion musingly, "it may be fancy, but I cannotresist the feeling that this country, and the world generally, are onthe eve of a great change--and I do not think the Duke is the man forthe epoch. "

"I see no reason why there should be any great change; certainly not inthis country, " said Mr. Ferrars. "Here we have changed everything thatwas required. Peel has settled the criminal law, and Huskisson thecurrency, and though I am prepared myself still further to reduce theduties on foreign imports, no one can deny that on this subject theGovernment is in advance of public opinion. "

"The whole affair rests on too contracted a basis, " said his companion. "We are habituated to its exclusiveness, and, no doubt, custom inEngland is a power; but let some event suddenly occur which makes anation feel or think, and the whole thing might vanish like a dream. "

"What can happen? Such affairs as the Luddites do not occur twice in acentury, and as for Spafields riots, they are impossible now with Peel'snew police. The country is employed and prosperous, and were it not so, the landed interest would always keep things straight. "

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

"Well, there is the colonial interest, and the shipping interest, " saidMr. Ferrars, "and both of them thoroughly with us. "

"I was not thinking of them, " said his companion. "It is the increase ofpopulation, and of a population not employed in the cultivation of thesoil, and all the consequences of such circumstances that were passingover my mind. "

"Don't you be too doctrinaire, my dear Sidney; you and I are practicalmen. We must deal with the existing, the urgent; and there is nothingmore pressing at this moment than the formation of a new government. What I want is to see you as a member of it. "

"Ah!" said his companion with a sigh, "do you really think it so near asthat?"

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

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

"Well, I do not see he could have done anything more, " said Mr. Ferrars, "nor do I believe his government would have lasted during the session. However, I must now say good-night, for I must look in at the Square. Think well of what I have said, and let me hear from you as soon as youcan. "

CHAPTER II

Zenobia was the queen of London, of fashion, and of the Tory party. Whenshe was not holding high festivals, or attending them, she was alwaysat home to her intimates, and as she deigned but rarely to honour theassemblies of others with her presence, she was generally at her eveningpost to receive the initiated. To be her invited guest under suchcircumstances proved at once that you had entered the highest circle ofthe social Paradise. 

Zenobia was leaning back on a brilliant sofa, supported by manycushions, and a great personage, grey-headed and blue-ribboned, who waspermitted to share the honours of the high place, was hanging on heranimated and inspiring accents. An ambassador, in an armed chair whichhe had placed somewhat before her, while he listened with apparentdevotion to the oracle, now and then interposed a remark, polishedand occasionally cynical. More remote, some dames of high degree weresurrounded by a chosen band of rank and fashion and celebrity; andnow and then was heard a silver laugh, and now and then was breatheda gentle sigh. Servants glided about the suite of summer chambers, occasionally with sherbets and ices, and sometimes a lady entered andsaluted Zenobia, and then retreated to the general group, and sometimesa gentleman entered, and pressed the hand of Zenobia to his lips, andthen vanished into air. 

"What I want you to see, " said Zenobia, "is that reaction is the lawof life, and that we are on the eve of a great reaction. Since LordCastlereagh's death we have had five years of revolution--nothing butchange, and every change has been disastrous. Abroad we are in leaguewith all the conspirators of the Continent, and if there were a generalwar we should not have an ally; at home our trade, I am told, is quiteruined, and we are deluged with foreign articles; while, thanks to Mr. Huskisson, the country banks, which enabled Mr. Pitt to carry on thewar and saved England, are all broken. There was one thing, of whichI thought we should always be proud, and that was our laws and theiradministration; but now our most sacred enactments are questioned, andpeople are told to call out for the reform of our courts of judicature, which used to be the glory of the land. This cannot last. I see, indeed, many signs of national disgust; people would have borne a great dealfrom poor Lord Liverpool--for they knew he was a good man, thoughI always thought a weak one; but when it was found that his boastedLiberalism only meant letting the Whigs into office--who, if they hadalways been in office, would have made us the slaves of Bonaparte--theireyes were opened. Depend upon it, the reaction has commenced. "

"We shall have some trouble with France, " said the ambassador, "unlessthere is a change here. "

"The Church is weary of the present men, " said the great personage. "Noone really knows what they are after. "

"And how can the country be governed without the Church?" exclaimedZenobia. "If the country once thinks the Church is in danger, the affairwill soon be finished. The King ought to be told what is going on. "

"Nothing is going on, " said the ambassador; "but everybody is afraid ofsomething. "

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

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

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

"The newspapers support it, " said the great personage, "and theDissenters, who are trying to bring themselves into notice, and who aresaid to have some influence in the northern counties, and the Whigs, who are in a hole, are willing to seize the hand of the ministry to helpthem out of it; and then there is always a number of people who willsupport any government--and so the thing works. "

"They have got a new name for this hybrid sentiment, " said theambassador. "They call it public opinion. "

"How very absurd!" said Zenobia; "a mere nickname. As if there could beany opinion but that of the Sovereign and the two Houses of Parliament. "

"They are trying to introduce here the continental Liberalism, " said thegreat personage. "Now we know what Liberalism means on the continent. Itmeans the abolition of property and religion. Those ideas would not suitthis country; and I often puzzle myself to foresee how they will attemptto apply Liberal opinions here. "

"I shall always think, " said Zenobia, "that Lord Liverpool went muchtoo far, though I never said so in his time; for I always uphold myfriends. "

"Well, we shall see what Canning will do about the Test and CorporationActs, " said the great personage. "I understand they mean to push him. "

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

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

"And what is your news from Chiswick?" she inquired. 

"They say at Brookes', that he will be at Downing Street on Monday. "

"I doubt it, " said Zenobia, but with an expression of disappointment. 

Zenobia invited Mr. Ferrars to join her immediate circle. The greatpersonage and the ambassador were confidentially affable to one whomZenobia so distinguished. Their conversation was in hushed tones, asbecome the initiated. Even Zenobia seemed subdued, and listened; and tolisten, among her many talents, was perhaps her rarest. Mr. Ferrars wasone of her favourites, and Zenobia liked young men who she thought wouldbecome Ministers of State. 

An Hungarian Princess who had quitted the opera early that she mightlook in at Zenobia's was now announced. The arrival of this greatlady made a stir. Zenobia embraced her, and the great personage withaffectionate homage yielded to her instantly the place of honour, andthen soon retreated to the laughing voices in the distance that hadalready more than once attracted and charmed his ear. 

"Mind; I see you to-morrow, " said Zenobia to Mr. Ferrars as he alsowithdrew. "I shall have something to tell you. "

CHAPTER III

The father of Mr. Ferrars had the reputation of being the son of a oncesomewhat celebrated statesman, but the only patrimony he inherited fromhis presumed parent was a clerkship in the Treasury, where hefound himself drudging at an early age. Nature had endowed him withconsiderable abilities, and peculiarly adapted to the scene of theirdisplay. It was difficult to decide which was most remarkable, hisshrewdness or his capacity of labour. His quickness of perception andmastery of details made him in a few years an authority in the office, and a Secretary of the Treasury, who was quite ignorant of details, but who was a good judge of human character, had the sense to appointFerrars his private secretary. This happy preferment in time opened thewhole official world to one not only singularly qualified for that kindof life, but who possessed the peculiar gifts that were then commencingto be much in demand in those circles. We were then entering that eraof commercial and financial reform which had been, if not absolutelyoccasioned, certainly precipitated, by the revolt of our colonies. Knowledge of finance and acquaintance with tariffs were then rare gifts, and before five years of his private secretaryship had expired, Ferrarswas mentioned to Mr. Pitt as the man at the Treasury who could dosomething that the great minister required. This decided his lot. Mr. Pitt found in Ferrars the instrument he wanted, and appreciating all hisqualities placed him in a position which afforded them full play. Theminister returned Ferrars to Parliament, for the Treasury then hadboroughs of its own, and the new member was preferred to an importantand laborious post. So long as Pitt and Grenville were in the ascendant, Mr. Ferrars toiled and flourished. He was exactly the man they liked;unwearied, vigilant, clear and cold; with a dash of natural sarcasmdeveloped by a sharp and varied experience. He disappeared from theactive world in the latter years of the Liverpool reign, when a newergeneration and more bustling ideas successfully asserted theirclaims; but he retired with the solace of a sinecure, a pension, anda privy-councillorship. The Cabinet he had never entered, nor dared tohope to enter. It was the privilege of an inner circle even in our thencontracted public life. It was the dream of Ferrars to revenge inthis respect his fate in the person of his son, and only child. Hewas resolved that his offspring should enjoy all those advantagesof education and breeding and society of which he himself had beendeprived. For him was to be reserved a full initiation in those costlyceremonies which, under the names of Eton and Christ Church, in his timefascinated and dazzled mankind. His son, William Pitt Ferrars, realisedeven more than his father's hopes. Extremely good-looking, he was giftedwith a precocity of talent. He was the marvel of Eton and the hopeof Oxford. As a boy, his Latin verses threw enraptured tutors intoparoxysms of praise, while debating societies hailed with acclamationclearly another heaven-born minister. He went up to Oxford about thetime that the examinations were reformed and rendered really efficient. This only increased his renown, for the name of Ferrars figured amongthe earliest double-firsts. Those were days when a crack universityreputation often opened the doors of the House of Commons to a youngaspirant; at least, after a season. But Ferrars had not to wait. Hisfather, who watched his career with the passionate interest with which aNewmarket man watches the development of some gifted yearling, took carethat all the odds should be in his favour in the race of life. An oldcolleague of the elder Mr. Ferrars, a worthy peer with many boroughs, placed a seat at the disposal of the youthful hero, the moment he wasprepared to accept it, and he might be said to have left the Universityonly to enter the House of Commons. 

There, if his career had not yet realised the dreams of his youthfuladmirers, it had at least been one of progress and unbroken prosperity. His first speech was successful, though florid, but it was on foreignaffairs, which permit rhetoric, and in those days demanded at leastone Virgilian quotation. In this latter branch of oratorical adornmentFerrars was never deficient. No young man of that time, and scarcely anyold one, ventured to address Mr. Speaker without being equipped with aLatin passage. Ferrars, in this respect, was triply armed. Indeed, whenhe entered public life, full of hope and promise, though disciplined toa certain extent by his mathematical training, he had read very littlemore than some Latin writers, some Greek plays, and some treatises ofAristotle. These with a due course of Bampton Lectures and some dippinginto the "Quarterly Review, " then in its prime, qualified a man inthose days, not only for being a member of Parliament, but becoming acandidate for the responsibility of statesmanship. Ferrars made his way;for two years he was occasionally asked by the minister to speak, andthen Lord Castlereagh, who liked young men, made him a Lord of theTreasury. He was Under-Secretary of State, and "very rising, " when thedeath of Lord Liverpool brought about the severance of the Tory party, and Mr. Ferrars, mainly under the advice of zealots, resigned his officewhen Mr. Canning was appointed Minister, and cast in his lot with thegreat destiny of the Duke of Wellington. 

The elder Ferrars had the reputation of being wealthy. It was supposedthat he had enjoyed opportunities of making money, and had availedhimself of them, but this was not true. Though a cynic, and with littlerespect for his fellow-creatures, Ferrars had a pride in officialpurity, and when the Government was charged with venality andcorruption, he would observe, with a dry chuckle, that he had seen agreat deal of life, and that for his part he would not much trust anyman out of Downing Street. He had been unable to resist the temptationof connecting his life with that of an individual of birth and rank;and in a weak moment, perhaps his only one, he had given his sona stepmother in a still good-looking and very expensiveViscountess-Dowager. 

Mr. Ferrars was anxious that his son should make a great alliance, buthe was so distracted between prudential considerations and his desirethat in the veins of his grand-children there should flow blood ofundoubted nobility, that he could never bring to his purpose that clearand concentrated will which was one of the causes of his success inlife; and, in the midst of his perplexities, his son unexpectedlysettled the question himself. Though naturally cold and calculating, William Ferrars, like most of us, had a vein of romance in his being, and it asserted itself. There was a Miss Carey, who suddenly becamethe beauty of the season. She was an orphan, and reputed to be noinconsiderable heiress, and was introduced to the world by an auntwho was a duchess, and who meant that her niece should be the same. Everybody talked about them, and they went everywhere--among otherplaces to the House of Commons, where Miss Carey, spying the senatorsfrom the old ventilator in the ceiling of St. Stephen's Chapel, droppedin her excitement her opera-glass, which fell at the feet of Mr. Under-Secretary Ferrars. He hastened to restore it to its beautifulowner, whom he found accompanied by several of his friends, and he wasnot only thanked, but invited to remain with them; and the next dayhe called, and he called very often afterwards, and many other thingshappened, and at the end of July the beauty of the season wasmarried not to a Duke, but to a rising man, who Zenobia, who at firstdisapproved of the match--for Zenobia never liked her male friends tomarry--was sure would one day be Prime Minister of England. 

Mrs. Ferrars was of the same opinion as Zenobia, for she was ambitious, and the dream was captivating. And Mrs. Ferrars soon gained Zenobia'sgood graces, for she had many charms, and, though haughty to themultitude, was a first-rate flatterer. Zenobia liked flattery, andalways said she did. Mr. Under-Secretary Ferrars took a mansion in HillStreet, and furnished it with befitting splendour. His dinners werecelebrated, and Mrs. Ferrars gave suppers after the opera. The equipagesof Mrs. Ferrars were distinguished, and they had a large retinue ofservants. They had only two children, and they were twins, a brother anda sister, who were brought up like the children of princes. Partly forthem, and partly because a minister should have a Tusculum, the Ferrarssoon engaged a magnificent villa at Wimbledon, which had the advantageof admirable stables, convenient, as Mrs. Ferrars was fond of horses, and liked the children too, with their fancy ponies, to be earlyaccustomed to riding. All this occasioned expenditure, but old Mr. Ferrars made his son a liberal allowance, and young Mrs. Ferrars was anheiress, or the world thought so, which is nearly the same, and then, too, young Mr. Ferrars was a rising man, in office, and who wouldalways be in office for the rest of his life; at least, Zenobia said so, because he was on the right side and the Whigs were nowhere, and neverwould be anywhere, which was quite right, as they had wished to make usthe slaves of Bonaparte. 

When the King, after much hesitation, send for Mr. Canning, on theresignation of Lord Liverpool, the Zenobian theory seemed a little atfault, and William Ferrars absolutely out of office had more than onemisgiving; but after some months of doubt and anxiety, it seemed afterall the great lady was right. The unexpected disappearance of Mr. Canning from the scene, followed by the transient and embarrassedphantom of Lord Goderich, seemed to indicate an inexorable destiny thatEngland should be ruled by the most eminent men of the age, and the mostillustrious of her citizens. William Ferrars, under the inspiration ofZenobia, had thrown in his fortunes with the Duke, and after nine monthsof disquietude found his due reward. In the January that succeeded theAugust conversation in St. James' Street with Sidney Wilton, WilliamFerrars was sworn of the Privy Council, and held high office, on theverge of the Cabinet. 

Mr. Ferrars had a dinner party in Hill Street on the day he had returnedfrom Windsor with the seals of his new office. The catastrophe of theGoderich Cabinet, almost on the eve of the meeting of Parliament, hadbeen so sudden, that, not anticipating such a state of affairs, Ferrars, among his other guests, had invited Sidney Wilton. He was ratherregretting this when, as his carriage stopped at his own door, heobserved that very gentleman on his threshold. 

Wilton greeted him warmly, and congratulated him on his promotion. "Ido so at once, " he added, "because I shall not have the opportunitythis evening. I was calling here in the hope of seeing Mrs. Ferrars, andasking her to excuse me from being your guest to-day. "

"Well, it is rather awkward, " said Ferrars, "but I could have no idea ofthis when you were so kind as to say you would come. "

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

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

"Not at all; I could endure without wincing even the triumphant glancesof Zenobia. The fact is, I have some business of the most pressingnature which has suddenly arisen, and which demands my immediateattention. "

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

Zenobia did dine with the William Ferrars to-day, and her handsomehusband came with her, a knight of the garter, and just appointed to ahigh office in the household by the new government. Even the excitementof the hour did not disturb his indigenous repose. It was a dignifiedserenity, quite natural, and quite compatible with easy and even cordialmanners, and an address always considerate even when not sympathetic. He was not a loud or a long talker, but his terse remarks were fullof taste and a just appreciation of things. If they were sometimestrenchant, the blade was of fine temper. Old Mr. Ferrars was there andthe Viscountess Edgware. His hair had become quite silvered, andhis cheek rosy as a December apple. His hazel eyes twinkled withsatisfaction as he remembered the family had now produced two privycouncillors. Lord Pomeroy was there, the great lord who had returnedWilliam Ferrars to Parliament, a little man, quite, shy, ratherinsignificant in appearance, but who observed everybody and everything;a conscientious man, who was always doing good, in silence and secrecy, and denounced as a boroughmonger, had never sold a seat in his life, andwas always looking out for able men of character to introduce them topublic affairs. It was not a formal party, but had grown up in greatdegree out of the circumstances of the moment. There were more men thanwomen, and all men in office or devoted supporters of the new ministry. 

Mrs. Ferrars, without being a regular beauty, had a voluptuous face andform. Her complexion was brilliant, with large and long-lashed eyes ofblue. Her mouth was certainly too large, but the pouting richness of herlips and the splendour of her teeth baffled criticism. She was a womanwho was always gorgeously or fantastically attired. 

"I never can understand, " would sometimes observe Zenobia's husband tohis brilliant spouse, "how affairs are carried on in this world. Now wehave, my dear, fifty thousand per annum; and I do not see how Ferrarscan have much more than five; and yet he lives much as we do, perhapsbetter. I know Gibson showed me a horse last week that I very muchwanted, but I would not give him two hundred guineas for it. I calledthere to-day to look after it again, for it would have suited meexactly, but I was told I was too late, and it was sold to Mrs. Ferrars. "

"My dear, you know I do not understand money matters, " Zenobia said inreply. "I never could; but you should remember that old Ferrars must bevery rich, and that William Ferrars is the most rising man of the day, and is sure to be in the Cabinet before he is forty. "

Everybody had an appetite for dinner to-day, and the dinner was worthyof the appetites. Zenobia's husband declared to himself that he neverdined so well, though he gave his _chef_ 500 pounds a year, and old LordPomeroy, who had not yet admitted French wines to his own table, seemedquite abashed with the number of his wine-glasses and their variouscolours, and, as he tasted one succulent dish after another, felt aproud satisfaction in having introduced to public life so distinguisheda man as William Ferrars. 

With the dessert, not without some ceremony, were introduced the twomost remarkable guests of the entertainment, and these were the twins;children of singular beauty, and dressed, if possible, more fancifullyand brilliantly than their mamma. They resembled each other, and had thesame brilliant complexion, rich chestnut hair, delicately arched brows, and dark blue eyes. Though only eight years of age, a most unchildlikeself-possession distinguished them. The expression of their countenanceswas haughty, disdainful, and supercilious. Their beautiful featuresseemed quite unimpassioned, and they moved as if they expectedeverything to yield to them. The girl, whose long ringlets were braidedwith pearls, was ushered to a seat next to her father, and, like herbrother, who was placed by Mrs. Ferrars, was soon engaged in negligentlytasting delicacies, while she seemed apparently unconscious of any onebeing present, except when she replied to those who addressed her with astare and a haughty monosyllable. The boy, in a black velvet jacketwith large Spanish buttons of silver filagree, a shirt of lace, and awaistcoat of white satin, replied with reserve, but some condescension, to the good-natured but half-humorous inquiries of the husband ofZenobia. 

"And when do you go to school?" asked his lordship in a kind voice andwith a laughing eye. 

"I shall go to Eton in two years, " replied the child without theslightest emotion, and not withdrawing his attention from the grapes hewas tasting, or even looking at his inquirer, "and then I shall go toChrist Church, and then I shall go into Parliament. "

"Myra, " said an intimate of the family, a handsome private secretary ofMr. Ferrars, to the daughter of the house, as he supplied her plate withsome choicest delicacies, "I hope you have not forgotten your engagementto me which you made at Wimbledon two years ago?"

"What engagement?" she haughtily inquired. 

"To marry me. "

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

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

"'Tis a family name. The first Carey who bore it was a courtier ofCharles the First, and we have never since been without it. Williamwanted our boy to be christened Pomeroy but I was always resolved, if Iever had a son, that he should be named ENDYMION. "

CHAPTER IV

About the time that the ladies rose from the dinner-table in HillStreet, Mr. Sidney Wilton entered the hall of the Clarendon Hotel, andmurmured an inquiry of the porter. Whereupon a bell was rung, and soona foreign servant appeared, and bowing, invited Mr. Wilton to ascend thestaircase and follow him. Mr. Wilton was ushered through an ante-chamberinto a room of some importance, lofty and decorated, and obviouslyadapted for distinguished guests. On a principal table a desk was openand many papers strewn about. Apparently some person had only recentlybeen writing there. There were in the room several musical instruments;the piano was open, there was a harp and a guitar. The room was ratherdimly lighted, but cheerful from the steady blaze of the fire, beforewhich Mr. Wilton stood, not long alone, for an opposite door opened, anda lady advanced leading with her left hand a youth of interesting mien, and about twelve years of age. The lady was fair and singularly thin. Itseemed that her delicate hand must really be transparent. Her cheekwas sunk, but the expression of her large brown eyes was inexpressiblypleasing. She wore her own hair, once the most celebrated in Europe, and still uncovered. Though the prodigal richness of the tresses haddisappeared, the arrangement was still striking from its grace. Thatrare quality pervaded the being of this lady, and it was impossible notto be struck with her carriage as she advanced to greet her guest; freefrom all affectation and yet full of movement and gestures, which mighthave been the study of painters. 

"Ah!" she exclaimed as she gave him her hand, which he pressed to hislips, "you are ever faithful. "

Seating themselves, she continued, "You have not seen my boy since hesate upon your knee. Florestan, salute Mr. Wilton, your mother's mostcherished friend. "

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

"Well, they would not let us rest, " said the lady. "Our only refuge wasSwitzerland, but I cannot breathe among the mountains, and so, aftera while, we stole to an obscure corner of the south, and for a time wewere tranquil. But soon the old story: representations, remonstrances, warnings, and threats, appeals to Vienna, and lectures from PrinceMetternich, not the less impressive because they were courteous, andeven gallant. "

"And had nothing occurred to give a colour to such complaints? Or was itsheer persecution?"

"Well, you know, " replied the lady, "we wished to remain quiet andobscure; but where the lad is, they will find him out. It oftenastonishes me. I believe if we were in the centre of a forest in someIndian isle, with no companions but monkeys and elephants, a secretagent would appear--some devoted victim of our family, prepared torestore our fortunes and renovate his own. I speak the truth to youalways. I have never countenanced these people; I have never encouragedthem; but it is impossible rudely to reject the sympathy of those who, after all, are your fellow-sufferers, and some of who have given proofof even disinterested devotion. For my own part, I have never falteredin my faith, that Florestan would some day sit on the throne of hisfather, dark as appears to be our life; but I have never much believedthat the great result could be occasioned or precipitated by intrigues, but rather by events more powerful than man, and led on by that fatalityin which his father believed. "

"And now you think of remaining here?" said Mr. Wilton. 

"No, " said the lady, "that I cannot do. I love everything in thiscountry except its climate and, perhaps, its hotels. I think of tryingthe south of Spain, and fancy, if quite alone, I might vegetate thereunnoticed. I cannot bring myself altogether to quit Europe. I am, mydear Sidney, intensely European. But Spain is not exactly the countryI should fix upon to form kings and statesmen. And this is the pointon which I wish to consult you. I want Florestan to receive an Englisheducation, and I want you to put me in the way of accomplishing this. It might be convenient, under such circumstances, that he should notobtrude his birth--perhaps, that it should be concealed. He has manyhonourable names besides the one which indicates the state to which hewas born. But, on all these points, we want your advice. " And she seemedto appeal to her son, who bowed his head with a slight smile, but didnot speak. 

Mr. Wilton expressed his deep interest in her wishes, and promised toconsider how they might best be accomplished, and then the conversationtook a more general tone. 

"This change of government in your country, " said the lady, "sounexpected, so utterly unforeseen, disturbs me; in fact, it decided myhesitating movements. I cannot but believe that the accession ofthe Duke of Wellington to power must be bad, at least, for us. It isessentially reactionary. They are triumphing at Vienna. "

"Have they cause?" said Mr. Wilton. "I am an impartial witness, for Ihave no post in the new administration; but the leading colleagues ofMr. Canning form part of it, and the conduct of foreign affairs remainsin the same hands. "

"That is consoling, " said the lady. "I wonder if Lord Dudley would seeme. Perhaps not. Ministers do not love pretenders. I knew him when Iwas not a pretender, " added the lady, with the sweetest of smiles, "andthought him agreeable. He was witty. Ah! Sidney, those were happy days. I look back to the past with regret, but without remorse. One might havedone more good, but one did some;" and she sighed. 

"You seemed to me, " said Sidney with emotion, "to diffuse benefit andblessings among all around you. "

"And I read, " said the lady, a little indignant, "in some memoirs theother day, that our court was a corrupt and dissolute court. It wasa court of pleasure, if you like; but of pleasure that animated andrefined, and put the world in good humour, which, after all, is goodgovernment. The most corrupt and dissolute courts on the continentof Europe that I have known, " said the lady, "have been outwardly thedullest and most decorous. "

"My memory of those days, " said Mr. Wilton, "is of ceaseless grace andinexhaustible charm. "

"Well, " said the lady, "if I sinned I have at least suffered. And I hopethey were only sins of omission. I wanted to see everybody happy, and tried to make them so. But let us talk no more of ourselves. Theunfortunate are always egotistical. Tell me something of Mr. Wilton;and, above all, tell me why you are not in the new government. "

"I have not been invited, " said Mr. Wilton. "There are more claimantsthan can be satisfied, and my claims are not very strong. It is scarcelya disappointment to me. I shall continue in public life; but, so far aspolitical responsibility is concerned, I would rather wait. I have somefancies on that head, but I will not trouble you with them. My time, therefore, is at my command; and so, " he added smilingly, "I can attendto the education of Prince Florestan. "

"Do you hear that, Florestan?" said the lady to her son; "I told you wehad a friend. Thank Mr. Wilton. "

And the young Prince bowed as before, but with a more seriousexpression. He, however, said nothing. 

"I see you have not forgotten your most delightful pursuit, " said Mr. Wilton, and he looked towards the musical instruments. 

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

"Pleasure should follow business, " said Mr. Wilton, "and we havetransacted ours. Would it be too bold if I asked again to hear thosetones which have so often enchanted me?"

"My voice has not fallen off, " said the lady, "for you know it was neverfirst-rate. But they were kind enough to say it had some expression, probably because I generally sang my own words to my own music. I willsing you my farewell to Florestan, " she added gaily, and took up herguitar, and then in tones of melancholy sweetness, breaking at last intoa gushing burst of long-controlled affection, she expressed the agonyand devotion of a mother's heart. Mr. Wilton was a little agitated;her son left the room. The mother turned round with a smiling face, andsaid, "The darling cannot bear to hear it, but I sing it on purpose, toprepare him for the inevitable. "

"He is soft-hearted, " said Mr. Wilton. 

"He is the most affectionate of beings, " replied the mother. "Affectionate and mysterious. I can say no more. I ought to tell you hischaracter. I cannot. You may say he may have none. I do not know. He hasabilities, for he acquires knowledge with facility, and knows agreat deal for a boy. But he never gives an opinion. He is silent andsolitary. Poor darling! he has rarely had companions, and that may bethe cause. He seems to me always to be thinking. "

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

"As he is away at this moment, I will say that which I should not careto say before his face, " said the lady. "You are about to do me a greatservice, not the first; and before I leave this, we may--we must--meetagain more than once, but there is no time like the present. Theseparation between Florestan and myself may be final. It is sad to thinkof such things, but they must be thought of, for they are probable. I still look in a mirror, Sidney; I am not so frightened by what hasoccurred since we first met, to be afraid of that--but I never deceivemyself. I do not know what may be the magical effect of the raisins ofMalaga, but if it saves my life the grape cure will indeed achieve amiracle. Do not look gloomy. Those who have known real grief seldom seemsad. I have been struggling with sorrow for ten years, but I have gotthrough it with music and singing, and my boy. See now--he will be asource of expense, and it will not do for you to be looking to a womanfor supplies. Women are generous, but not precise in money matters. Ihave some excuse, for the world has treated me not very well. I nevergot my pension regularly; now I never get it at all. So much forthe treaties, but everybody laughs at them. Here is the fortune ofFlorestan, and I wish it all to be spent on his education, " and shetook a case from her bosom. "They are not the crown jewels, though. Thememoirs I was reading the other day say I ran away with them. That isfalse, like most things said of me. But these are gems of Golconda, which I wish you to realise and expend for his service. They were thegift of love, and they were worn in love. "

"It is unnecessary, " said Mr. Wilton, deprecating the offer by hisattitude. 

"Hush!" said the lady. "I am still a sovereign to you, and I must beobeyed. "

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

"And you will write my name on it?"

"Certainly, " replied the lady, as she went to the table and wrote, "ForMr. Sidney Wilton, from AGRIPPINA. "

CHAPTER V

In the meantime, power and prosperity clustered round the roof andfamily of Ferrars. He himself was in the prime of manhood, with anexalted position in the world of politics, and with a prospect of thehighest. The Government of which he was a member was not only deemedstrong, but eternal. The favour of the Court and the confidence of thecountry were alike lavished upon it. The government of the Duke couldonly be measured by his life, and his influence was irresistible. It wasa dictatorship of patriotism. The country, long accustomed to a strongand undisturbed administration, and frightened by the changes andcatastrophes which had followed the retirement of Lord Liverpool, tookrefuge in the powerful will and splendid reputation of a real hero. 

Mrs. Ferrars was as ambitious of social distinction as her husband wasof political power. She was a woman of taste, but of luxurious taste. She had a passion for splendour, which, though ever regulated by a fineperception of the fitness of things, was still costly. Though hermien was in general haughty, she flattered Zenobia, and consummately. Zenobia, who liked handsome people, even handsome women, and persons whowere dressed beautifully, was quite won by Mrs. Ferrars, against whomat first she was inclined to be a little prejudiced. There was an entirealliance between them, and though Mrs. Ferrars greatly influenced andalmost ruled Zenobia, the wife of the minister was careful always toacknowledge the Queen of Fashion as her suzerain. 

The great world then, compared with the huge society of the presentperiod, was limited in its proportions, and composed of elements morerefined though far less various. It consisted mainly of the great landedaristocracy, who had quite absorbed the nabobs of India, and had nearlyappropriated the huge West Indian fortunes. Occasionally, an eminentbanker or merchant invested a large portion of his accumulations inland, and in the purchase of parliamentary influence, and was intime duly admitted into the sanctuary. But those vast and successfulinvasions of society by new classes which have since occurred, thoughimpending, had not yet commenced. The manufacturers, the railway kings, the colossal contractors, the discoverers of nuggets, had not yet foundtheir place in society and the senate. There were then, perhaps, moregreat houses open than at the present day, but there were very fewlittle ones. The necessity of providing regular occasions for theassembling of the miscellaneous world of fashion led to the institutionof Almack's, which died out in the advent of the new system ofsociety, and in the fierce competition of its inexhaustible privateentertainments. 

The season then was brilliant and sustained, but it was not flurried. People did not go to various parties on the same night. They remainedwhere they were assembled, and, not being in a hurry, were moreagreeable than they are at the present day. Conversation was morecultivated; manners, though unconstrained, were more stately; and theworld, being limited, knew itself much better. On the other hand, thesympathies of society were more contracted than they are at present. The pressure of population had not opened the heart of man. The worldattended to its poor in its country parishes, and subscribed and dancedfor the Spitalfields weavers when their normal distress had overflowed, but their knowledge of the people did not exceed these bounds, and thepeople knew very little more about themselves. They were only half born. 

The darkest hour precedes the dawn, and a period of unusual stillnessoften, perhaps usually, heralds the social convulsion. At this momentthe general tranquillity and even content were remarkable. In politicsthe Whigs were quite prepared to extend to the Duke the same provisionalconfidence that had been accepted by Mr. Caning, and conciliation beganto be an accepted phrase, which meant in practice some share on theirpart of the good things of the State. The country itself requirednothing. There was a general impression, indeed, that they had beenadvancing at a rather rapid rate, and that it was as well that the reinsshould be entrusted to a wary driver. Zenobia, who represented society, was enraptured that the career of revolution had been stayed. She stillmourned over the concession of the Manchester and Liverpool Railway in amoment of Liberal infatuation, but flattered herself that any extensionof the railway system might certainly be arrested, and on this head themajority of society, perhaps even of the country, was certainly on herside. 

"I have some good news for you, " said one of her young favourites as heattended her reception. "We have prevented this morning the lighting ofGrosvenor Square by gas by a large majority. "

"I felt confident that disgrace would never occur, " said Zenobia, triumphant. "And by a large majority! I wonder how Lord Pomeroy voted. "

"Against us. "

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

One bright May morning in the spring that followed the formation of thegovernment that was to last for ever, Mrs. Ferrars received the worldat a fanciful entertainment in the beautiful grounds of her Wimbledonvilla. The day was genial, the scene was flushed with roses and pinkthorns, and brilliant groups, amid bursts of music, clustered andsauntered on the green turf of bowery lawns. Mrs. Ferrars, on arustic throne, with the wondrous twins in still more wonderful attire, distributed alternate observations of sympathetic gaiety to a RussianGrand Duke and to the serene heir of a German principality. And yetthere was really an expression on her countenance of restlessness, not to say anxiety, which ill accorded with the dulcet tones and thewreathed smiles which charmed her august companions. Zenobia, the greatZenobia, had not arrived, and the hours were advancing. The Grand Dukeplayed with the beautiful and haughty infants, and the German Princeinquired of Endymion whether he were destined to be one of His Majesty'sguards; but still Zenobia did not come, and Mrs. Ferrars could scarcelyconceal her vexation. But there was no real occasion for it. For even atthis moment, with avant-courier and outriders and badged postillionson her four horses of race, the lodge-gates were opening for thegreat lady, who herself appeared in the distance; and Mrs. Ferrars, accompanied by her distinguished guests, immediately rose and advancedto receive the Queen of Fashion. No one appreciated a royal presencemore highly than Zenobia. It was her habit to impress upon her noblefellows of both sexes that there were relations of intimacy betweenherself and the royal houses of Europe, which were not shared by herclass. She liked to play the part of a social mediator between thearistocracy and royal houses. A German Serenity was her delight, buta Russian Grand Duke was her embodiment of power and pomp, and soundprinciples in their most authentic and orthodox form. And yet though sheaddressed their highnesses with her usual courtly vivacity, and pouredforth inquiries which seemed to indicate the most familiar acquaintancewith the latest incidents from Schonbrunn or the Rhine, though sheembraced her hostess, and even kissed the children, the practised eye ofMrs. Ferrars, whose life was a study of Zenobia, detected that her lateappearance had been occasioned by an important cause, and, what wasmore, that Zenobia was anxious to communicate it to her. With femininetact Mrs. Ferrars moved on with her guests until the occasion offeredwhen she could present some great ladies to the princes; and thendismissing the children on appropriate missions, she was not surprisedwhen Zenobia immediately exclaimed: "Thank heaven, we are at lastalone! You must have been surprised I was so late. Well, guess what hashappened?" and then as Mrs. Ferrars shook her head, she continued: "Theyare all four out!"

"All four!"

"Yes; Lord Dudley, Lord Palmerston, and Charles Grant follow Huskisson. I do not believe the first ever meant to go, but the Duke would notlisten to his hypocritical explanations, and the rest have followed. Iam surprised about Lord Dudley, as I know he loved his office. "

"I am alarmed, " said Mrs. Ferrars. 

"Not the slightest cause for fear, " exclaimed the intrepid Zenobia. "Itmust have happened sooner or later. I am delighted at it. We shall nowhave a cabinet of our own. They never would have rested till they hadbrought in some Whigs, and the country hates the Whigs. No wonder, whenwe remember that if they had had their way we should have been wearingsabots at this time, with a French prefect probably in Holland House. "

"And whom will they put in the cabinet?" inquired Mrs. Ferrars. 

"Our good friends, I hope, " said Zenobia, with an inspiring smile; "butI have heard nothing about that yet. I am a little sorry about LordDudley, as I think they have drawn him into their mesh; but as for theother three, especially Huskisson and Lord Palmerston, I can tell youthe Duke has never had a quiet moment since they joined him. We shallnow begin to reign. The only mistake was ever to have admitted them. Ithink now we have got rid of Liberalism for ever. "

CHAPTER VI

Mr. Ferrars did not become a cabinet minister, but this was a vexationrather than a disappointment, and transient. The unexpected vacancieswere filled by unexpected personages. So great a change in the frameof the ministry, without any promotion for himself, was on the firstimpression not agreeable, but reflection and the sanguine wisdom ofZenobia soon convinced him that all was for the best, that the thoughtof such rapid preferment was unreasonable, and that time and the dueseason must inevitably bring all that he could desire, especially asany term to the duration of the ministry was not now to be foreseen:scarcely indeed possible. In short, it was shown to him that theTory party, renovated and restored, had entered upon a new lease ofauthority, which would stamp its character on the remainder of thenineteenth century, as Mr. Pitt and his school had marked its earlierand memorable years. 

And yet this very reconstruction of the government necessarily led toan incident which, in its consequences, changed the whole character ofEnglish politics, and commenced a series of revolutions which has notyet closed. 

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

The return of a cabinet minister by a large constituency was moreappreciated in the days of close boroughs than at present. There was arumour that the new minister was to be opposed, but Zenobia laughedthe rumour to scorn. As she irresistibly remarked at one of her eveninggatherings, "Every landowner in the county is in his favour; thereforeit is impossible. " The statistics of Zenobia were quite correct, yetthe result was different from what she anticipated. An Irish lawyer, a professional agitator, himself a Roman Catholic and thereforeineligible, announced himself as a candidate in opposition to the newminister, and on the day of election, thirty thousand peasants, settingat defiance all the landowners of the county, returned O'Connell at thehead of the poll, and placed among not the least memorable of historicalevents--the Clare election. 

This event did not, however, occur until the end of the year 1828, forthe state of the law then prevented the writ from being moved until thattime, and during the whole of that year the Ferrars family had pursueda course of unflagging display. Courage, expenditure, and tact combined, had realised almost the height of that social ambition to which Mrs. Ferrars soared. Even in the limited and exclusive circle which thenprevailed, she began to be counted among the great dames. As for thetwins, they seemed quite worthy of their beautiful and luxurious mother. Proud, wilful, and selfish, they had one redeeming quality, an intenseaffection for each other. The sister seemed to have the commandingspirit, for Endymion was calm, but if he were ruled by his sister, shewas ever willing to be his slave, and to sacrifice every considerationto his caprice and his convenience. 

The year 1829 was eventful, but to Ferrars more agitating than anxious. When it was first known that the head of the cabinet, whose colleaguehad been defeated at Clare, was himself about to propose theemancipation of the Roman Catholics, there was a thrill throughout thecountry; but after a time the success of the operation was not doubted, and was anticipated as a fresh proof of the irresistible fortunes of theheroic statesman. There was some popular discontent in the countryat the proposal, but it was mainly organised and stimulated by theDissenters, and that section of Churchmen who most resembled them. The High Church party, the descendants of the old connection which hadrallied round Sacheverell, had subsided into formalism, and shrank fromany very active co-operation with their evangelical brethren. 

The English Church had no competent leaders among the clergy. The spiritthat has animated and disturbed our latter times seemed quite dead, andno one anticipated its resurrection. The bishops had been selected fromcollege dons, men profoundly ignorant of the condition and the wants ofthe country. To have edited a Greek play with second-rate success, orto have been the tutor of some considerable patrician, was thequalification then deemed desirable and sufficient for an office, whichat this day is at least reserved for eloquence and energy. The socialinfluence of the episcopal bench was nothing. A prelate was rarely seenin the saloons of Zenobia. It is since the depths of religiousthought have been probed, and the influence of woman in the spreadand sustenance of religious feeling has again been recognised, thatfascinating and fashionable prelates have become favoured guests in therefined saloons of the mighty, and, while apparently indulging in thevanities of the hour, have re-established the influence which in olddays guided a Matilda or the mother of Constantine. 

The end of the year 1829, however, brought a private event of moment tothe Ferrars family. The elder Mr. Ferrars died. The world observed atthe time how deeply affected his son was at this event. The relationsbetween father and son had always been commendable, but the world washardly prepared for Mr. Ferrars, junior, being so entirely overwhelmed. It would seem that nothing but the duties of public life could haverestored him to his friends, and even these duties he relinquishedfor an unusual time. The world was curious to know the amount of hisinheritance, but the proof of the will was unusually delayed, and publicevents soon occurred which alike consigned the will and the will-makerto oblivion. 

CHAPTER VII

The Duke of Wellington applied himself to the treatment of the criticalcircumstances of 1830 with that blended patience and quickness ofperception to which he owed the success of so many campaigns. Quiteconscious of the difficulties he had to encounter, he was neverthelessfull of confidence in his ability to control them. It is probable thatthe paramount desire of the Duke in his effort to confirm his power wasto rally and restore the ranks of the Tory party, disturbed rather thanbroken up by the passing of the Relief Bill. During the very heat ofthe struggle it was significantly observed that the head of the powerfulfamily of Lowther, in the House of Commons, was never asked to resignhis office, although he himself and his following voted invariablyagainst the Government measure. The order the day was the utmostcourtesy to the rebels, who were treated, as some alleged, with moreconsideration than the compliant. At the same time the desire of theWhigs to connect, perhaps even to merge themselves with the ministerialranks, was not neglected. A Whig had been appointed to succeedthe eccentric and too uncompromising Wetherell in the office ofattorney-general, other posts had been placed at their disposal, and oneeven, an old companion in arms of the Duke, had entered the cabinet. The confidence in the Duke's star was not diminished, and underordinary circumstances this balanced strategy would probably havebeen successful. But it was destined to cope with great and unexpectedevents. 

The first was the unexpected demise of the crown. The death of KingGeorge the Fourth at the end of the month of June, according to the thenexisting constitution, necessitated a dissolution of parliament, and sodeprived the minister of that invaluable quality of time, necessaryto soften and win back his estranged friends. Nevertheless, it is notimprobable, that the Duke might still have succeeded, had it not beenfor the occurrence of the French insurrection of 1830, in the very heatof the preparations for the general election in England. The Whigs whofound the Duke going to the country without that reconstruction of hisministry on which they had counted, saw their opportunity and seized it. The triumphant riots of Paris were dignified into "the three gloriousdays, " and the three glorious days were universally recognised asthe triumph of civil and religious liberty. The names of Polignacand Wellington were adroitly connected together, and the phraseParliamentary Reform began to circulate. 

It was Zenobia's last reception for the season; on the morrow she wasabout to depart for her county, and canvass for her candidates. She wasstill undaunted, and never more inspiring. The excitement of the timeswas reflected in her manner. She addressed her arriving guests as theymade their obeisance to her, asked for news and imparted it before shecould be answered, declared that nothing had been more criticalsince '93, that there was only one man who was able to deal with thesituation, and thanked Heaven that he was not only in England, but inher drawing-room. 

Ferrars, who had been dining with his patron, Lord Pomeroy, and hadthe satisfaction of feeling, that at any rate his return to the newparliament was certain, while helping himself to coffee could notrefrain from saying in a low tone to a gentleman who was performing thesame office, "Our Whig friends seem in high spirits, baron. "

The gentleman thus addressed was Baron Sergius, a man of middle age. Hiscountenance was singularly intelligent, tempered with an expressionmild and winning. He had attended the Congress of Vienna to representa fallen party, a difficult and ungracious task, but he had shownsuch high qualities in the fulfilment of his painful duties--so muchknowledge, so much self-control, and so much wise and unaffectedconciliation--that he had won universal respect, and especially with theEnglish plenipotentiaries, so that when he visited England, which he didfrequently, the houses of both parties were open to him, and he was asintimate with the Whigs as he was with the great Duke, by whom he washighly esteemed. 

"As we have got our coffee, let us sit down, " said the baron, and theywithdrew to a settee against the wall. 

"You know I am a Liberal, and have always been a Liberal, " said thebaron; "I know the value of civil and religious liberty, for I wasborn in a country where we had neither, and where we have since enjoyedeither very fitfully. Nothing can be much drearier than the present lotof my country, and it is probable that these doings at Paris may help myfriends a little, and they may again hold up their heads for a time; butI have seen too much, and am too old, to indulge in dreams. You are ayoung man and will live to see what I can only predict. The world isthinking of something else than civil and religious liberty. Those arephrases of the eighteenth century. The men who have won these 'threeglorious days' at Paris, want neither civilisation nor religion. Theywill not be content till they have destroyed both. It is possible thatthey may be parried for a time; that the adroit wisdom of the house ofOrleans, guided by Talleyrand, may give this movement the resemblance, and even the character, of a middle-class revolution. It is no suchthing; the barricades were not erected by the middle class. I know thesepeople; it is a fraternity, not a nation. Europe is honeycombed withtheir secret societies. They are spread all over Spain. Italy isentirely mined. I know more of the southern than the northern nations;but I have been assured by one who should know that the brotherhood areorganised throughout Germany and even in Russia. I have spoken tothe Duke about these things. He is not indifferent, or altogetherincredulous, but he is so essentially practical that he can only dealwith what he sees. I have spoken to the Whig leaders. They tell me thatthere is only one specific, and that a complete one--constitutionalgovernment; that with representative institutions, secret societiescannot co-exist. I may be wrong, but it seems to me that with thesesecret societies representative institutions rather will disappear. "

CHAPTER VIII

What unexpectedly took place in the southern part of England, andespecially in the maritime counties, during the autumn of 1830, seemedrather to confirm the intimations of Baron Sergius. The people in therural districts had become disaffected. Their discontent was generallyattributed to the abuses of the Poor Law, and to the lowness oftheir wages. But the abuses of the Poor Law, though intolerable, weregenerally in favour of the labourer, and though wages in some partswere unquestionably low, it was observed that the tumultuous assemblies, ending frequently in riot, were held in districts where this cause didnot prevail. The most fearful feature of the approaching anarchy was thefrequent acts of incendiaries. The blazing homesteads baffled the feeblepolice and the helpless magistrates; and the government had reason tobelieve that foreign agents were actively promoting these mysteriouscrimes. 

Amid partial discontent and general dejection came the crash of theWellington ministry, and it required all the inspiration of Zenobiato sustain William Ferrars under the trial. But she was undaunted andsanguine as a morning in spring. Nothing could persuade her that theWhigs could ever form a government, and she was quite sure that theclerks in the public offices alone could turn them out. When the Whiggovernment was formed, and its terrible programme announced, she laughedit to scorn, and derided with inexhaustible merriment the idea of theHouse of Commons passing a Reform Bill. She held a great assembly thenight that General Gascoyne defeated the first measure, and passed anevening of ecstasy in giving and receiving congratulations. The morrowbrought a graver brow, but still an indomitable spirit, and through allthese tempestuous times Zenobia never quailed, though mobs burnt thecastles of dukes and the palaces of bishops. 

Serious as was the state of affairs to William Ferrars, his conditionwas not so desperate as that of some of his friends. His seat at leastwas safe in the new parliament that was to pass a Reform Bill. Asfor the Tories generally, they were swept off the board. Scarcely aconstituency, in which was a popular element, was faithful to them. Thecounties in those days were the great expounders of popular principles, and whenever England was excited, which was rare, she spoke through herfreeholders. In this instance almost every Tory knight of the shire losthis seat except Lord Chandos, the member for Buckinghamshire, who owedhis success entirely to his personal popularity. "Never mind, " saidZenobia, "what does it signify? The Lords will throw it out. "

And bravely and unceasingly she worked for this end. To assist thispurpose it was necessary that a lengthened and powerful resistance tothe measure should be made in the Commons; that the public mind shouldbe impressed with its dangerous principles, and its promoters cheapenedby the exposure of their corrupt arrangements and their inaccuratedetails. It must be confessed that these objects were resolutely keptin view, and that the Tory opposition evinced energy and abilitiesnot unworthy of a great parliamentary occasion. Ferrars particularlydistinguished himself. He rose immensely in the estimation of the House, and soon the public began to talk of him. His statistics about thecondemned boroughs were astounding and unanswerable: he was the only manwho seemed to know anything of the elements of the new ones. He was aseloquent too as exact, --sometimes as fervent as Burke, and always asaccurate as Cocker. 

"I never thought it was in William Ferrars, " said a member, musingly, toa companion as they walked home one night; "I always thought him a goodman of business, and all that sort of thing--but, somehow or other, Idid not think this was in him. "

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

It was, however, pouring water upon sand. Any substantial resistanceto the measure was from the first out of the question. Lord Chandosaccomplished the only important feat, and that was the enfranchisementof the farmers. This perpetual struggle, however, occasioned a vast dealof excitement, and the actors in it often indulged in the wild credulityof impossible expectations. The saloon of Zenobia was ever thronged, andshe was never more confident than when the bill passed the Commons. Sheknew that the King would never give his assent to the bill. HisMajesty had had quite enough of going down in hackney coaches to carryrevolutions. After all, he was the son of good King George, and thecourt would save the country, as it had often done before. "But it willnot come to that, " she added. "The Lords will do their duty. "

"But Lord Waverley tells me, " said Ferrars, "that there are forty ofthem who were against the bill last year who will vote for the secondreading. "

"Never mind Lord Waverley and such addlebrains, " said Zenobia, with asmile of triumphant mystery. "So long as we have the court, the Duke, and Lord Lyndhurst on our side, we can afford to laugh at such conceitedpoltroons. His mother was my dearest friend, and I know he used to havefits. Look bright, " she continued; "things never were better. Before aweek has passed these people will be nowhere. "

"But how it is possible?"

"Trust me. "

"I always do--and yet"----

"You never were nearer being a cabinet minister, " she said, with aradiant glance. 

And Zenobia was right. Though the government, with the aid of thewaverers, carried the second reading of the bill, a week afterwards, on May 7, Lord Lyndhurst rallied the waverers again to his standard andcarried his famous resolution, that the enfranchising clauses shouldprecede the disenfranchisement in the great measure. Lord Grey and hiscolleagues resigned, and the King sent for Lord Lyndhurst. The boldchief baron advised His Majesty to consult the Duke of Wellington, andwas himself the bearer of the King's message to Apsley House. The Dukefound the King "in great distress, " and he therefore did not hesitate inpromising to endeavour to form a ministry. 

"Who was right?" said Zenobia to Mr. Ferrars. "He is so busy he couldnot write to you, but he told me to tell you to call at Apsley House attwelve to-morrow. You will be in the cabinet. "

"I have got it at last!" said Ferrars to himself. "It is worth livingfor and at any peril. All the cares of life sink into insignificanceunder such circumstances. The difficulties are great, but their verygreatness will furnish the means of their solution. The Crown cannot bedragged in the mud, and the Duke was born for conquest. "

A day passed, and another day, and Ferrars was not again summoned. Theaffair seemed to hang fire. Zenobia was still brave, but Ferrars, whoknew her thoroughly, could detect her lurking anxiety. Then she told himin confidence that Sir Robert made difficulties, "but there is nothingin it, " she added. "The Duke has provided for everything, and he meansSir Robert to be Premier. He could not refuse that; it would be almostan act of treason. " Two days after she sent for Mr. Ferrars, earlyin the morning, and received him in her boudoir. Her countenance wasexcited, but serious. "Don't be alarmed, " she said; "nothing willprevent a government being formed, but Sir Robert has thrown us over;I never had confidence in him. It is most provoking, as Mr. Baring hadjoined us, and it was such a good name for the City. But the failure ofone man is the opportunity of another. We want a leader in the House ofCommons. He must be a man who can speak; of experience, who knows theHouse, its forms, and all that. There is only one man indicated. Youcannot doubt about him. I told you honours would be tumbling on yourhead. You are the man; you are to have one of the highest offices in thecabinet, and lead the House of Commons. "

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

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

"The difficulties seem too great to contend with. "

"What difficulties are there? You have got the court, and you have gotthe House of Lords. Mr. Pitt was not nearly so well off, for he hadnever been in office, and had at the same time to fight Lord North andthat wicked Mr. Fox, the orator of the day, while you have only got LordAlthorp, who can't order his own dinner. "

"I am in amazement, " said Ferrars, and he seemed plunged in thought. 

"But you do not hesitate?"

"No, " he said, looking up dreamily, for he had been lost in abstraction;and speaking in a measured and hollow voice, "I do not hesitate. " Thenresuming a brisk tone he said, "This is not an age for hesitation; ifasked, I will do the deed. "

At this moment there was a tap at the door, and the groom of thechambers brought in a note for Mr. Ferrars, which had been forwardedfrom his own residence, and which requested his presence at ApsleyHouse. Having read it, he gave it to Zenobia, who exclaimed withdelight, "Do not lose a moment. I am so glad to have got rid of SirRobert with his doubts and his difficulties. We want new blood. "

That was a wonderful walk for William Ferrars, from St. James' Square toApsley House. As he moved along, he was testing his courage and capacityfor the sharp trials that awaited him. He felt himself not unequalto conjectures in which he had never previously indulged even inimagination. His had been an ambitious, rather than a soaring spirit. Hehad never contemplated the possession of power except under the aegis ofsome commanding chief. Now it was for him to control senates and guidecouncils. He screwed himself up to the sticking-point. Desperation issometimes as powerful an inspirer as genius. 

The great man was alone, --calm, easy, and courteous. He had sent forMr. Ferrars, because having had one interview with him, in which hisco-operation had been requested in the conduct of affairs, the Dukethought it was due to him to give him the earliest intimation of thechange of circumstances. The vote of the house of Commons on the motionof Lord Ebrington had placed an insurmountable barrier to the formationof a government, and his Grace had accordingly relinquished thecommission with which he had been entrusted by the King. 

CHAPTER IX

Availing himself of his latch-key, Ferrars re-entered his homeunnoticed. He went at once to his library, and locked the door of theapartment. There sitting before his desk, he buried his face in hishands and remained in that posture for a considerable time. 

They were tumultuous and awful thoughts that passed over his brain. The dreams of a life were dissipated, and he had to encounter the sternreality of his position--and that was Ruin. He was without hope andwithout resource. His debts were vast; his patrimony was a fable; andthe mysterious inheritance of his wife had been tampered with. Theelder Ferrars had left an insolvent estate; he had supported his sonliberally, but latterly from his son's own resources. The father hadmade himself the principal trustee of the son's marriage settlement. Hiscolleague, a relative of the heiress, had died, and care was taken thatno one should be substituted in his stead. All this had been discoveredby Ferrars on his father's death, but ambition, and the excitement ofa life of blended elation and peril, had sustained him under theconcussion. One by one every chance had vanished: first his privatemeans and then his public prospects; he had lost office, and now he wasabout to lose parliament. His whole position, so long, and carefully, and skilfully built up, seemed to dissolve and dissipate intoinsignificant fragments. And now he had to break the situation to hiswife. She was to become the unprepared partner of the secret which hadgnawed at his heart for years, during which to her his mien had oftenbeen smiling and always serene. Mrs. Ferrars was at home, and alone, in her luxurious boudoir, and he went to her at once. After yearsof dissimulation, now that all was over, Ferrars could not bear thesuspense of four-and-twenty hours. 

It was difficult to bring her into a mood of mind capable ofcomprehending a tithe of of what she had to learn; and yet the darkestpart of the tale she was never to know. Mrs. Ferrars, though singularlyintuitive, shrank from controversy, and settled everything bycontradiction and assertion. She maintained for a long time that whather husband communicated to her could not be; that it was absurd andeven impossible. After a while, she talked of selling her diamondsand reducing her equipage, sacrificing which she assumed would puteverything right. And when she found her husband still grave and stillintimating that the sacrifices must be beyond all this, and that theymust prepare for the life and habits of another social sphere, shebecame violent, and wept and declared her wrongs; that she had beendeceived and outraged and infamously treated. 

Remembering how long and with what apparent serenity in her presence hehad endured his secret woes, and how one of the principal objects of hislife had ever been to guard her even from a shade of solicitude, eventhe restrained Ferrars was affected; his countenance changed and hiseyes became suffused. When she observed this, she suddenly threw herarms round his neck and with many embraces, amid sighs and tears, exclaimed, "O William! if we love each other, what does anythingsignify?"

And what could anything signify under such circumstances and on suchconditions? As Ferrars pressed his beautiful wife to his heart, heremembered only his early love, which seemed entirely to revive. Unconsciously to himself, too, he was greatly relieved by this burst oftenderness on her part, for the prospect of this interview had been mostdistressful to him. "My darling, " he said, "ours is not a case of commonimprudence or misfortune. We are the victims of a revolution, and wemust bear our lot as becomes us under such circumstances. Individualmisfortunes are merged in the greater catastrophe of the country. "

"That is the true view, " said his wife; "and, after all, the poor Kingof France is much worse off than we are. However, I cannot now buy theDuchesse of Sevres' lace, which I had promised her to do. It is ratherawkward. However, the best way always is to speak the truth. I must tellthe duchess I am powerless, and that we are the victims of a revolution, like herself. "

Then they began to talk quite cosily together over their prospects, hesitting on the sofa by her side and holding her hand. Mrs. Ferrars wouldnot hear of retiring to the continent. "No, " she said, with all hersanguine vein returning, "you always used to say I brought you luck, andI will bring you luck yet. There must be a reaction. The wheel will turnand bring round our friends again. Do not let us then be out of the way. Your claims are immense. They must do something for you. They ought togive you India, and if we only set our mind upon it, we shall get it. Depend upon it, things are not so bad as they seem. What appear to becalamities are often the sources of fortune. I would much sooner thatyou should be Governor-General than a cabinet minister. That odiousHouse of Commons is very wearisome. I am not sure any constitutioncan bear it very long. I am not sure whether I would not prefer beingGovernor-General of India even to being Prime-Minister. "

CHAPTER X

In consequence of the registration under the Reform Act it was notpossible for parliament to be dissolved, and an appeal made to the newconstituency, until the end of the year. This was advantageous to Mr. Ferrars, and afforded him six months of personal security to arrange hisaffairs. Both husband and wife were proud, and were anxious to quit theworld with dignity. All were so busy about themselves at that period, and the vicissitudes of life between continental revolutions and Englishreform so various and extensive, that it was not difficult to avoid thescrutiny of society. Mrs. Ferrars broke to Zenobia that, as her husbandwas no longer to be in parliament, they had resolved to retire for sometime to a country life, though, as Mr. Ferrars had at length succeededin impressing on his wife that their future income was to be counted byhundreds, rather than thousands, it was difficult for her to realise arural establishment that should combine dignity and economy. Without, however, absolutely alleging the cause, she contrived to baffle thevarious propositions of this kind which the energetic Zenobia made toher, and while she listened with apparent interest to accounts of deerparks, and extensive shooting, and delightful neighbourhoods, would justexclaim, "Charming! but rather more, I fancy, than we require, for wemean to be very quiet till my girl is presented. "

That young lady was now thirteen, and though her parents were carefulto say nothing in her presence which would materially reveal their realsituation, for which they intended very gradually to prepare her, thescrutinising powers with which nature had prodigally invested theirdaughter were not easily baffled. She asked no questions, but nothingseemed to escape the penetrative glance of that large dark blue eye, calm amid all the mystery, and tolerating rather than sharing thefrequent embrace of her parents. After a while her brother came homefrom Eton, to which he was never to return. A few days before thisevent she became unusually restless, and even agitated. When he arrived, neither Mr. Nor Mrs. Ferrars was at home. He knocked gaily at thedoor, a schoolboy's knock, and was hardly in the hall when his namewas called, and he caught the face of his sister, leaning over thebalustrade of the landing-place. He ran upstairs with wondrous speed, and was in an instant locked in her arms. She kissed him and kissed himagain, and when he tried to speak, she stopped his mouth with kisses. And then she said, "Something has happened. What it is I cannot makeout, but we are to have no more ponies. "

CHAPTER XI

At the foot of the Berkshire downs, and itself on a gentle elevation, there is an old hall with gable ends and lattice windows, standing ingrounds which once were stately, and where there are yet glade-liketerraces of yew trees, which give an air of dignity to a neglectedscene. In the front of the hall huge gates of iron, highly wrought, andbearing an ancient date as well as the shield of a noble house, openedon a village green, round which were clustered the cottages of theparish with only one exception, and that was the vicarage house, amodern building, not without taste, and surrounded by a small butbrilliant garden. The church was contiguous to the hall, and had beenraised by the lord on a portion of his domain. Behind the hall and itsenclosure, the country was common land but picturesque. It had oncebeen a beech forest, and though the timber had been greatly cleared, the green land was still occasionally dotted, sometimes with groups andsometimes with single trees, while the juniper which here abounded, androse to a great height, gave a rich wildness to the scene, and sustainedits forest character. 

Hurstley had for many years been deserted by the family to which itbelonged. Indeed, it was rather difficult to say to whom it did belong. A dreary fate had awaited an ancient, and, in its time, even notimmemorable home. It had fallen into chancery, and for the lasthalf-century had either been uninhabited or let to strangers. Mr. Ferrars' lawyer was in the chancery suit, and knew all about it. The difficulty of finding a tenant for such a place, never easy, wasincreased by its remoteness from any railway communication, which wasnow beginning to figure as an important element in such arrangements. The Master in Chancery would be satisfied with a nominal rent, providedonly he could obtain a family of consideration to hold under him. Mr. Ferrars was persuaded to go down alone to reconnoitre the place. Itpleased him. It was aristocratic, yet singularly inexpensive. The housecontained an immense hall, which reached the roof, and which would havebecome a baronial mansion, and a vast staircase in keeping; but theliving rooms were moderate, even small, in dimensions, and not numerous. The land he was expected to take consisted only of a few meadows, which he could let if necessary, and a single labourer could manage thegarden. 

Mrs. Ferrars was so delighted with the description of the galleriedhall, that she resolved on their taking Hurstley without even herpreviously visiting it. The only things she cared for in the countrywere a hall and a pony-chair. 

All the carriages were sold, and all the servants discharged. Two orthree maid-servants and a man who must be found in the country, whocould attend them at table, and valet alike his master and the pony, wasthe establishment which was to succeed the crowd of retainers who hadso long lounged away their lives in the saloons of Hill Street, and thegroves and gardens of Wimbledon. 

Mr. And Mrs. Ferrars and their daughter travelled down to Hurstley in apost-chaise; Endymion, with the servants, was sent by the stage-coach, which accomplished the journey of sixty miles in ten hours. Myra saidlittle during the journey, but an expression of ineffable contempt anddisgust seemed permanent on her countenance. Sometimes she shrugged hershoulders, sometimes she raised her eyebrows, and sometimes she turnedup her nose. And then she gave a sigh; but it was a sigh not of sorrow, but of impatience. Her parents lavished attentions on her which sheaccepted without recognition, only occasionally observing that shewished she had gone with Endymion. 

It was dusk when they arrived at Hurstley, and the melancholy hour didnot tend to raise their spirits. However, the gardener's wife had lit agood fire of beechwood in the drawing-room, and threw as they entereda pannier of cones upon the logs, which crackled and cheerfully blazedaway. Even Myra seemed interested by the novelty of the wood fire andthe iron dogs. She remained by their side, looking abstractedly on theexpiring logs, while her parents wandered about the house and examinedor prepared the requisite arrangements. While they were yet absent, there was some noise and a considerable bustle in the hall. Endymionand his retinue had arrived. Then Myra immediately roused herself, andlistened like a startled deer. But the moment she caught his voice, anexpression of rapture suffused her countenance. It beamed with vivacityand delight. She rushed away, pushed through the servants and theluggage, embraced him and said, "We will go over the house and see ourrooms together. "

Wandering without a guide and making many mistakes, fortunately theysoon met their parents. Mrs. Ferrars good-naturedly recommenced herlabours of inspection, and explained all her plans. There was a verypretty room for Endymion, and to-morrow it was to be very comfortable. He was quite pleased. Then they were shown Myra's room, but she saidnothing, standing by with a sweet scoff, as it were, lingering on herlips, while her mother disserted on all the excellences of the chamber. Then they were summoned to tea. The gardener's wife was quite a leadingspirit, and had prepared everything; the curtains were drawn, and theroom lighted; an urn hissed; there were piles of bread and butter and apyramid of buttered toast. It was wonderful what an air of comfort hadbeen conjured up in this dreary mansion, and it was impossible forthe travellers, however wearied or chagrined, to be insensible to theconvenience and cheerfulness of all around them. 

When the meal was over, the children sate together in whispering tattle. Mrs. Ferrars had left the room to see if all was ready for their hour ofretirement, and Mr. Ferrars was walking up and down the room, absorbedin thought. 

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

"I rather like it, " he said. 

She looked at him with a glance of blended love and mockery, and thenshe said in his ear, "I feel as if we had fallen from some star. "

CHAPTER XII

The morrow brought a bright autumnal morn, and every one woke, if nothappy, interested. There was much to see and much to do. The dew was soheavy that the children were not allowed to quit the broad gravel walkthat bounded one side of the old house, but they caught enticing vistasof the gleamy glades, and the abounding light and shade softened andadorned everything. Every sight and sound too was novel, and fromthe rabbit that started out of the grove, stared at them and thendisappeared, to the jays chattering in the more distant woods, all waswonderment at least for a week. They saw squirrels for the first time, and for the first time beheld a hedgehog. Their parents were busy inthe house; Mr. Ferrars unpacking and settling his books, and his wifearranging some few articles of ornamental furniture that had been savedfrom the London wreck, and rendering their usual room of residence asrefined as was in her power. It is astonishing how much effect a womanof taste can produce with a pretty chair or two full of fancy andcolour, a table clothed with a few books, some family miniatures, aworkbag of rich material, and some toys that we never desert. "I havenot much to work with, " said Mrs. Ferrars, with a sigh, "but I think thecolouring is pretty. "

On the second day after their arrival, the rector and his wife made thema visit. Mr. Penruddock was a naturalist, and had written the history ofhis parish. He had escaped being an Oxford don by being preferred earlyto this college living, but he had married the daughter of a don, whoappreciated the grand manners of their new acquaintances, and who, whenshe had overcome their first rather awe-inspiring impression, becamecommunicative and amused them much with her details respecting thelittle world in which they were now to live. She could not concealher wonderment at the beauty of the twins, though they were no longerhabited in those dresses which had once astonished even Mayfair. 

Part of the scheme of the new life was the education of the childrenby their parents. Mr. Ferrars had been a distinguished scholar, and wasstill a good one. He was patient and methodical, and deeply interestedin his contemplated task. So far as disposition was concerned the pupilwas not disappointing. Endymion was of an affectionate disposition andinclined to treat his father with deference. He was gentle and docile;but he did not acquire knowledge with facility, and was remarkablydeficient in that previous information on which his father counted. Theother pupil was of a different temperament. She learned with a glance, and remembered with extraordinary tenacity everything she had acquired. But she was neither tender nor deferential, and to induce her to studyyou could not depend on the affections, but only on her intelligence. So she was often fitful, capricious, or provoking, and her mother, who, though accomplished and eager, had neither the method nor theself-restraint of Mr. Ferrars, was often annoyed and irritable. Thenthere were scenes, or rather ebullitions on one side, for Myra wasalways unmoved and enraging from her total want of sensibility. Sometimes it became necessary to appeal to Mr. Ferrars, and her mannerto her father, though devoid of feeling, was at least not contemptuous. Nevertheless, on the whole the scheme, as time went on, promised to benot unsuccessful. Endymion, though not rapidly, advanced surely, andmade some amends for the years that had been wasted in fashionableprivate schools and the then frivolity of Eton. Myra, who, notwithstanding her early days of indulgence, had enjoyed the advantageof admirable governesses, was well grounded in more than one modernlanguage, and she soon mastered them. And in due time, though much afterthe period on which we are now touching, she announced her desire tobecome acquainted with German, in those days a much rarer acquirementthan at present. Her mother could not help her in this respect, and thatwas perhaps an additional reason for the study of this tongue, for Myrawas impatient of tuition, and not unjustly full of self-confidence. She took also the keenest interest in the progress of her brother, madeherself acquainted with all his lessons, and sometimes helped him intheir achievement. 

Though they had absolutely no acquaintance of any kind except the rectorand his family, life was not dull. Mr. Ferrars was always employed, forbesides the education of his children, he had systematically resumeda habit in which he had before occasionally indulged, and that waspolitical composition. He had in his lofty days been the author of morethan one essay, in the most celebrated political publication of theTories, which had commanded attention and obtained celebrity. Many apublic man of high rank and reputation, and even more than one PrimeMinister, had contributed in their time to its famous pages, but neverwithout being paid. It was the organic law of this publication, thatgratuitous contributions should never be admitted. And in this principlethere was as much wisdom as pride. Celebrated statesmen would point withcomplacency to the snuff-box or the picture which had been purchased bytheir literary labour, and there was more than one bracelet on the armof Mrs. Ferrars, and more than one genet in her stable, which had beenthe reward of a profound or a slashing article by William. 

What had been the occasional diversion of political life was now tobe the source of regular income. Though living in profound solitude, Ferrars had a vast sum of political experience to draw upon, and thoughhis training and general intelligence were in reality too exclusive andacademical for the stirring age which had now opened, and on which hehad unhappily fallen, they nevertheless suited the audience to whichthey were particularly addressed. His Corinthian style, in which theMaenad of Mr. Burke was habited in the last mode of Almack's, hissarcasms against the illiterate and his invectives against the low, hisdescriptions of the country life of the aristocracy contrasted withthe horrors of the guillotine, his Horatian allusions and his Virgilianpassages, combined to produce a whole which equally fascinated andalarmed his readers. 

These contributions occasioned some communications with the editor orpublisher of the Review, which were not without interest. Parcels camedown by the coach, enclosing not merely proof sheets, but frequently newbooks--the pamphlet of the hour before it was published, or a volumeof discoveries in unknown lands. It was a link to the world they hadquitted without any painful associations. Otherwise their communicationswith the outside world were slight and rare. It is difficult for us, who live in an age of railroads, telegraphs, penny posts and pennynewspapers, to realise how uneventful, how limited in thought andfeeling, as well as in incident, was the life of an English family ofretired habits and limited means, only forty years ago. The whole worldseemed to be morally, as well as materially, "adscripti glebae. "

Mr. And Mrs. Ferrars did not wish to move, but had they so wished, itwould have been under any circumstances for them a laborious and costlyaffair. The only newspaper they saw was the "Evening Mail, " whicharrived three times a week, and was the "Times" newspaper with all itscontents except its advertisements. As the "Times" newspaper had thecredit of mainly contributing to the passing of Lord Grey's Reform Bill, and was then whispered to enjoy the incredible sale of twelve thousandcopies daily, Mr. Ferrars assumed that in its columns he would tracethe most authentic intimations of coming events. The cost of postagewas then so heavy, that domestic correspondence was necessarily veryrestricted. But this vexatious limitation hardly applied to the Ferrars. They had never paid postage. They were born and had always lived inthe franking world, and although Mr. Ferrars had now himself lostthe privilege, both official and parliamentary, still all theircorrespondents were frankers, and they addressed their replies withoutcompunction to those who were free. Nevertheless, it was astonishinghow little in their new life they cared to avail themselves of thiscorrespondence. At first Zenobia wrote every week, almost every day, toMrs. Ferrars, but after a time Mrs. Ferrars, though at first pleasedby the attention, felt its recognition a burthen. Then Zenobia, whoat length, for the first time in her life, had taken a gloomy view ofaffairs, relapsed into a long silence, and in fact had nearly forgottenthe Ferrars, for as she herself used to say, "How can one recollectpeople whom one never meets?"

In the meantime, for we have been a little anticipating in our lastremarks, the family at Hurstley were much pleased with the country theynow inhabited. They made excursions of discovery into the interior oftheir world, Mrs. Ferrars and Myra in the pony-chair, her husbandand Endymion walking by their side, and Endymion sometimes taking hissister's seat against his wish, but in deference to her irresistiblewill. Even Myra could hardly be insensible to the sylvan wildness of theold chase, and the romantic villages in the wooded clefts of the downs. As for Endymion he was delighted, and it seemed to him, perhaps heunconsciously felt it, that this larger and more frequent experience ofnature was a compensation for much which they had lost. 

After a time, when they had become a little acquainted with simpleneighbourhood, and the first impression of wildness and novelty hadworn out, the twins were permitted to walk together alone, though withincertain limits. The village and its vicinity was quite free, but theywere not permitted to enter the woods, and not to wander on the chaseout of sight of the mansion. These walks alone with Endymion were thegreatest pleasure of his sister. She delighted to make him tell her ofhis life at Eton, and if she ever sighed it was when she lamented thathis residence there had been so short. Then they found an inexhaustiblefund of interest and sympathy in the past. They wondered if they evershould have ponies again. "I think not, " said Myra, "and yet how merryto scamper together over this chase!"

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

"A groom!" exclaimed Myra, with an elfish laugh; "I believe, if thetruth were really known, we ought to be making our own beds and washingour own dinner plates. "

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

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

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

"Ah, you are soft, dear darling. I never cried in my life, except oncewith rage. "

At Christmas a new character appeared on the stage, the rector's son, Nigel. He had completed a year with a private tutor, and was on theeve of commencing his first term at Oxford, being eighteen, nearlyfive years older than the twins. He was tall, with a countenanceof remarkable intelligence and power, though still softened by theinnocence and bloom of boyhood. He was destined to be a clergyman. Thetwins were often thrown into his society, for though too old to be theirmere companion, his presence was an excuse for Mrs. Penruddock morefrequently joining them in their strolls, and under her auspices theirwanderings had no limit, except the shortness of the days; but theyfound some compensation for this in their frequent visits to therectory, which was a cheerful and agreeable home, full of stuffed birds, and dried plants, and marvellous fishes, and other innocent trophies andtriumphs over nature. 

CHAPTER XIII

The tenant of the Manor Farm was a good specimen of his class; athorough Saxon, ruddy and bright visaged, with an athletic though ratherbulky frame, hardened by exposure to the seasons and constant exercise. Although he was the tenant of several hundred acres, he had an eye tothe main chance in little things, which is a characteristic of farmers, but he was good-natured and obliging, and while he foraged their pony, furnished their woodyard with logs and faggots, and supplied them fromhis dairy, he gratuitously performed for the family at the hall manyother offices which tended to their comfort and convenience, but whichcost him nothing. 

Mr. Ferrars liked to have a chat every now and then with FarmerThornberry, who had a shrewd and idiomatic style of expressing hislimited, but in its way complete, experience of men and things, whichwas amusing and interesting to a man of the world whose knowledge ofrural life was mainly derived from grand shooting parties at greathouses. 

The pride and torment of Farmer Thornberry's life was his only child, Job. 

"I gave him the best of educations, " said the farmer; "he had a muchbetter chance than I had myself, for I do not pretend to be a scholar, and never was; and yet I cannot make head or tail of him. I wish youwould speak to him some day, sir. He goes against the land, and yet wehave been on it for three generations, and have nothing to complain of;and he is a good farmer, too, is Job, none better; a little too fond ofexperimenting, but then he is young. But I am very much afraid he willleave me. I think it is this new thing the big-wigs have set up inLondon that has put him wrong, for he is always reading their papers. "

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

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

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

"Do you know, I think he is, " said Farmer Thornberry, very seriously, "and by this token, he says a knowledge of chemistry is necessary forthe cultivation of the soil. "

"Brougham is a man who would say anything, " said Mr. Ferrars, "and ofone thing you may be quite certain, that there is no subject which LordBrougham knows thoroughly. I have proved that, and if you ever have timesome winter evening to read something on the matter, I will lend you anumber of the 'Quarterly Review, ' which might interest you. "

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

Mr. Ferrars found Job not quite so manageable in controversy as hisfather. His views were peculiar, and his conclusions certain. He hadmore than a smattering too of political economy, a kind of knowledgewhich Mr. Ferrars viewed with suspicion; for though he had himself beenlooked upon as enlightened in this respect in the last years of LordLiverpool, when Lord Wallace and Mr. Huskisson were astonishing theworld, he had relapsed, after the schism of the Tory party, intoorthodoxy, and was satisfied that the tenets of the economists were meretheories, or could only be reduced into practice by revolution. 

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

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

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

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

"But you are not high-rented!"

"Oh, rent is nothing, if everything else were right, but nothing isright, " said Job. "In the first place, a farmer is the only trader whohas no security for his capital. "

"Ah! you want a lease?"

"I should be very sorry to have a lease like any that I have seen, "replied Job. "We had one once in our family, and we keep it as acuriosity. It is ten skins long, and more tyrannical nonsense was neverengrossed by man. "

"But your family, I believe, has been on this estate for generationsnow, " said Ferrars, "and they have done well. "

"They have done about as well as their stock. They have existed, " saidJob; "nothing more. "

"Your father always gives me quite the idea of a prosperous man, " saidMr. Ferrars. 

"Whether he be or not I am sure I cannot say, " said Job; "for as neitherhe nor any of his predecessors ever kept any accounts, it is ratherdifficult to ascertain their exact condition. So long as he has moneyenough in his pocket to pay his labourers and buy a little stock, myfather, like every British farmer, is content. The fact is, he is a serfas much as his men, and until we get rid of feudalism he will remainso. "

"These are strong opinions, " said Mr. Ferrars, drawing himself up andlooking a little cold. 

"Yes, but they will make their way, " said Job. "So far as I myself amconcerned, I do not much care what happens to the land, for I do notmean to remain on it; but I care for the country. For the sake of thecountry I should like to see the whole thing upset. "

"What thing?" asked Mr. Ferrars. 

"Feudalism, " said Job. "I should like to see this estate managed on thesame principles as they do their great establishments in the northof England. Instead of feudalism, I would substitute the commercialprinciple. I would have long leases without covenants; no uselesstimber, and no game. "

"Why, you would destroy the country, " said Mr. Ferrars. 

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

"The people in the large towns are miserable, " said Mr. Ferrars. 

"They cannot be more miserable than the people in the country, " saidJob. 

"Their wretchedness is notorious, " said Mr. Ferrars. "Look at theirriots. "

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

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

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

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

"They may call me what they like, " said Job; "but it will not altermatters. However, I am going among the Radicals soon, and then I shallknow what they are. "

"And can you leave your truly respectable parent?" said Mr. Ferrarsrather solemnly, for he remembered his promise to Farmer Thornberry tospeak seriously to his son. 

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

CHAPTER XIV

Eighteen hundred and thirty-two, the darkest and most distressing yearin the life of Mr. Ferrars, closed in comparative calm and apparentcontent. He was himself greatly altered, both in manner and appearance. He was kind and gentle, but he was silent and rarely smiled. His hairwas grizzled, and he began to stoop. But he was always employed, and wasinterested in his labours. 

His sanguine wife bore up against their misfortunes with far moreanimation. She was at first amused with her new life, and when she wasaccustomed to it, she found a never-failing resource in her convictionof a coming reaction. Mrs. Ferrars possessed most feminine qualities, and many of them in excess. She could not reason, but her intuition wasremarkable. She was of opinion that "these people never could go on, "and that they must necessarily be succeeded by William and his friends. In vain her husband, when she pressed her views and convictions on him, would shake his head over the unprecedented majority of the government, and sigh while he acknowledged that the Tories absolutely did not nowcommand one fifth of the House of Commons; his shakes and sighs wereequally disregarded by her, and she persisted in her dreams of ridingupon elephants. 

After all Mrs. Ferrars was right. There is nothing more remarkable inpolitical history than the sudden break-up of the Whig party after theirsuccessful revolution of 1832. It is one of the most striking instanceson record of all the elements of political power being useless without acommanding individual will. During the second year of their exile in theBerkshire hills, affairs looked so black that it seemed no change couldoccur except further and more calamitous revolution. Zenobia went toVienna that she might breathe the atmosphere of law and order, andhinted to Mrs. Ferrars that probably she should never return--at leastnot until Parliament met, when she trusted the House of Lords, if theywere not abolished in the interval, would save the country. And yet atthe commencement of the following year an old colleague of Mr. Ferrarsapprised him, in the darkest and deepest confidence, that "there was ascrew loose, " and he must "look out for squalls. "

In the meantime Mr. Ferrars increased and established his claims on hisparty, if they ever did rally, by his masterly articles in their greatReview, which circumstances favoured and which kept up that increasingfeeling of terror and despair which then was deemed necessary for theadvancement of Conservative opinions. 

At home a year or more had elapsed without change. The occasionalappearance of Nigel Penruddock was the only event. It was to all apleasing, and to some of the family a deeply interesting one. Nigel, though a student and devoted to the holy profession for which he wasdestined, was also a sportsman. His Christianity was muscular, andEndymion, to whom he had taken a fancy, became the companion of hispastimes. All the shooting of the estate was at Nigel's command, but asthere were no keepers, it was of course very rough work. Still it was anovel and animating life for Endymion; and though the sport was slight, the pursuit was keen. Then Nigel was a great fisherman, and here theirefforts had a surer return, for they dwelt in a land of trout streams, and in their vicinity was a not inconsiderable river. It was anadventure of delight to pursue some of these streams to their source, throwing, as they rambled on, the fly in the rippling waters. Myra, too, took some pleasure in these fishing expeditions, carrying their luncheonand a German book in her wallet, and sitting quietly on the bank forhours, when they had fixed upon some favoured pool for a prolongedcampaign. 

Every time that Nigel returned home, a difference, and a strikingdifference, was observed in him. His person, of course, became moremanly, his manner more assured, his dress more modish. It was impossibleto deny that he was extremely good-looking, interesting in hisdiscourse, and distinguished in his appearance. Endymion idolised him. Nigel was his model. He imitated his manner, caught the tone of hisvoice, and began to give opinions on subjects, sacred and profane. 

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

"What does Mr. Ferrars mean you to be, Endymion?"

"I do not know, " said Endymion, looking perplexed. 

"But I suppose you are to be something?"

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

"And what would you like to be?"

"I never thought about it, " said Endymion. 

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

"The Church!" said Endymion. 

"There will soon be nothing else left, " said Nigel. "The Church mustlast for ever. It is built upon a rock. It was founded by God; all othergovernments have been founded by men. When they are destroyed, and theprocess of destruction seems rapid, there will be nothing left to governmankind except the Church. "

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

"Yes, but Mr. Ferrars is an Erastian, " said Nigel; "you need not tellhim I said so, but he is one. He wants the Church to be the servant ofthe State, and all that sort of thing, but that will not do any longer. This destruction of the Irish bishoprics has brought affairs to acrisis. No human power has the right to destroy a bishopric. It is adivinely-ordained office, and when a diocese is once established, it iseternal. "

"I see, " said Endymion, much interested. 

"I wish, " continued Nigel, "you were two or three years older, and Mr. Ferrars could send you to Oxford. That is the place to understand thesethings, and they will soon be the only things to understand. The rectorknows nothing about them. My father is thoroughly high and dry, and hasnot the slightest idea of Church principles. "

"Indeed!" said Endymion. 

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

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

"I have a great fancy, " continued Nigel, without apparently attending tohim, "to give you a thorough Church education. It would be the makingof you. You would then have a purpose in life, and never be in doubt orperplexity on any subject. We ought to move heaven and earth to induceMr. Ferrars to send you to Oxford. "

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

"I said something of this to your sister the other day, " said Nigel, "but I fear she is terribly Erastian. However, I will give you somethingto read. It is not very long, but you can read it at your leisure, and then we will talk over it afterwards, and perhaps I may give yousomething else. "

Endymion did not fail to give a report of this conversation and similarones to his sister, for he was in the habit of telling her everything. She listened with attention, but not with interest, to his story. Herexpression was kind, but hardly serious. Her wondrous eyes gave him aglance of blended mockery and affection. "Dear darling, " she said, "ifyou are to be a clergyman, I should like you to be a cardinal. "

CHAPTER XV

The dark deep hints that had reached Mr. Ferrars at the beginning of1834 were the harbingers of startling events. In the spring it began tobe rumoured among the initiated, that the mighty Reform Cabinet with itscolossal majority, and its testimonial goblets of gold, raised by thepenny subscriptions of the grateful people, was in convulsions, andbefore the month of July had elapsed Lord Grey had resigned, undercircumstances which exhibited the entire demoralisation of his party. Except Zenobia, every one was of the opinion that the King acted wiselyin entrusting the reconstruction of the Whig ministry to his lateSecretary of State, Lord Melbourne. Nevertheless, it could no longer beconcealed, nay, it was invariably admitted, that the political situationhad been largely and most unexpectedly changed, and that there was aprospect, dim, perhaps, yet not undefinable, of the conduct ofpublic affairs again falling to the alternate management of two rivalconstitutional parties. 

Zenobia was so full of hope, and almost of triumph, that she inducedher lord in the autumn to assemble their political friends at one of hisgreat seats, and Mr. And Mrs. Ferrars were urgently invited to join theparty. But, after some hesitation, they declined this proposal. Had Mr. Ferrars been as sanguine as his wife, he would perhaps have overcomehis strong disinclination to re-enter the world, but though no longerdespairing of a Tory revival, he was of opinion that a considerableperiod, even several years, must elapse before its occurrence. Strangeto say, he found no difficulty in following his own humour through anycontrary disposition on the part of Mrs. Ferrars. With all her ambitionand passionate love of society, she was unwilling to return to thatstage, where she once had blazed, in a subdued and almost subordinateposition. In fact, it was an affair of the wardrobe. The queen ofcostumes, whose fanciful and gorgeous attire even Zenobia was wont topraise, could not endure a reappearance in old dresses. "I do not somuch care about my jewels, William, " she said to her husband, "but onemust have new dresses. "

It was a still mild day in November, a month which in the country, andespecially on the light soils, has many charms, and the whole Ferrarsfamily were returning home after an afternoon ramble on the chase. Theleaf had changed but had not fallen, and the vast spiral masses of thedark green juniper effectively contrasted with the rich brown foliage ofthe beech, varied occasionally by the scarlet leaves of the wild cherrytree, that always mingles with these woods. Around the house were somelime trees of large size, and at this period of the year their foliage, still perfect, was literally quite golden. They seemed like trees insome fairy tale of imprisoned princesses or wandering cavaliers, andsuch they would remain, until the fatal night that brings the firstfrost. 

"There is a parcel from London, " said the servant to Mr. Ferrars, asthey entered the house. "It is on your desk. "

A parcel from London was one of the great events of their life. Whatcould it be? Perhaps some proofs, probably some books. Mr. Ferrarsentered his room alone. It was a very small brown paper parcel, evidently not books. He opened it hastily, and disencumbered itscontents of several coverings. The contents took the form of a letter--asingle letter. 

The handwriting was recognised, and he read the letter with an agitatedcountenance, and then he opened the door of his room, and called loudlyfor his wife, who was by his side in a few moments. 

"A letter, my love, from Barron, " he cried. "The King has dismissedLord Melbourne and sent for the Duke of Wellington, who has accepted theconduct of affairs. "

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

"It does not appear that he is exactly prime minister, " said Mr. Ferrars, looking again at the letter. "They have sent for Peel, who isat Rome, but the Duke is to conduct the government till he arrives. "

"You must go to town immediately, " repeated Mrs. Ferrars. "There is nota moment to be lost. Send down to the Horse Shoe and secure an insideplace in the Salisbury coach. It reaches this place at nine to-morrowmorning. I will have everything ready. You must take a portmanteau anda carpet-bag. I wonder if you could get a bedroom at the Rodneys'. Itwould be so nice to be among old friends; they must feel for you. Andthen it will be near the Carlton, which is a great thing. I wonder howhe will form his cabinet. What a pity he is not here!"

"It is a wonderful event, but the difficulties must be immense, "observed Ferrars. 

"Oh! you always see difficulties. I see none. The King is with us, thecountry is disgusted. It is what I always said would be; the reaction iscomplete. "

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

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

The children were informed that public events of importance hadoccurred, that the King had changed his ministry, and that papa must goup to town immediately and see the Duke of Wellington. The eyes of Mrs. Ferrars danced with excitement as she communicated to them all thisintelligence, and much more, with a volubility in which of late yearsshe had rarely indulged. Mr. Ferrars looked grave and said little. Then he patted Endymion on the head, and kissed Myra, who returned hisembrace with a warmth unusual with her. 

The whole household soon became in a state of bustle with thepreparations for the early departure of Mr. Ferrars. It seemed difficultto comprehend how filling a portmanteau and a carpet-bag could inducesuch excited and continuous exertions. But then there was so much toremember, and then there was always something forgotten. Mrs. Ferrarswas in her bedroom surrounded by all her maids; Mr. Ferrars was in hisstudy looking out some papers which it was necessary to take with him. The children were alone. 

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

"Well, I shall be sorry to leave the old place; I have been happy here. "

"I have not, " said Myra; "and I do not think I could have borne thislife had it not been for you. "

"It will be a wonderful change, " said Endymion. 

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

Tea-time brought them all together again, but when the meal was over, none of the usual occupations of the evening were pursued; no work, nobooks, no reading aloud. Mr. Ferrars was to get up very early, and thatwas a reason for all retiring soon. And yet neither the husband northe wife really cared to sleep. Mrs. Ferrars sate by the fire in hisdressing-room, speculating on all possible combinations, and infusinginto him all her suggestions and all her schemes. She was still prudent, and still would have preferred a great government--India if possible;but had made up her mind that he must accept the cabinet. Consideringwhat had occurred in 1832, she thought he was bound in honour to do so. Her husband listened rather than conversed, and seemed lost in thought. At last he rose, and, embracing her with much affection, said, "Youforget I am to rise with the lark. I shall write to you every day. Best and dearest of women, you have always been right, and all my goodfortune has come from you. "

CHAPTER XVI

It was a very tedious journey, and it took the whole day to accomplisha distance which a rapid express train now can achieve in an hour. Thecoach carried six inside passengers, and they had to dine on the road. All the passengers were strangers to Mr. Ferrars, and he was by themunknown; one of them purchased, though with difficulty, a secondedition of the "Times" as they approached London, and favoured hisfellow-travellers with the news of the change of ministry. There wasmuch excitement, and the purchaser of the paper gave it as his opinion, "that it was an intrigue of the Court and the Tories, and would neverdo. " Another modestly intimated that he thought there was a decidedreaction. A third announced that England would never submit to begoverned by O'Connell. 

As the gloom of evening descended, Mr. Ferrars felt depressed. Thoughhis life at Hurstley had been pensive and melancholy, he felt now thecharm and the want of that sweet domestic distraction which had oftenprevented his mind from over-brooding, and had softened life by sympathyin little things. Nor was it without emotion that he found himself againin London, that proud city where once he had himself been so proud. Thestreets were lighted, and seemed swarming with an infinite population, and the coach finally stopped at a great inn in the Strand, where Mr. Ferrars thought it prudent to secure accommodation for the night. Itwas too late to look after the Rodneys, but in deference to the strictinjunction of Mrs. Ferrars, he paid them a visit next morning on his wayto his political chief. 

In the days of the great modistes, when an English lady might absolutelybe dressed in London, the most celebrated mantua-maker in that city wasMadame Euphrosyne. She was as fascinating as she was fashionable. She was so graceful, her manners were so pretty, so natural, and soinsinuating! She took so lively an interest in her clients--her veryheart was in their good looks. She was a great favourite of Mrs. Ferrars, and that lady of Madame Euphrosyne. She assured Mrs. Ferrarsthat she was prouder of dressing Mrs. Ferrars than all the other fineladies in London together, and Mrs. Ferrars believed her. Unfortunately, while in the way of making a large fortune, Madame Euphrosyne, who wasromantic, fell in love with, and married, a very handsome and worthlesshusband, whose good looks had obtained for him a position in thecompany of Drury Lane Theatre, then a place of refined resort, which hisabilities did not justify. After pillaging and plundering his wife formany years, he finally involved her in such engagements, that she hadto take refuge in the Bankruptcy Court. Her business was ruined, and herspirit was broken, and she died shortly after of adversity and chagrin. Her daughter Sylvia was then eighteen, and had inherited with the graceof her mother the beauty of her less reputable parent. Her figurewas slight and undulating, and she was always exquisitely dressed. Abrilliant complexion set off to advantage her delicate features, which, though serene, were not devoid of a certain expression of archness. Herwhite hands were delicate, her light eyes inclined to merriment, and hernose quite a gem, though a little turned up. 

After their ruin, her profligate father told her that her face was herfortune, and that she must provide for herself, in which she would findno difficulty. But Sylvia, though she had never enjoyed the advantage ofany training, moral or religious, had no bad impulses even if she hadno good ones, was of a rather cold character, and extremely prudent. Sherecoiled from the life of riot, and disorder, and irregularity, inwhich she had unwittingly passed her days, and which had terminated sotragically, and she resolved to make an effort to secure for herselfa different career. She had heard that Mrs. Ferrars was in want of anattendant, and she determined to apply for the post. As one of thechief customers of her mother, Sylvia had been in the frequent habit ofwaiting on that lady, with whom she had become a favourite. She wasso pretty, and the only person who could fit Mrs. Ferrars. Her appeal, therefore, was not in vain; it was more than successful. Mrs. Ferrarswas attracted by Sylvia. Mrs. Ferrars was magnificent, generous, andshe liked to be a patroness and surrounded by favourites. She determinedthat Sylvia should not sink into a menial position; she adopted her as ahumble friend, and one who every day became more regarded by her. Sylviaarranged her invitations to her receptions, a task which required finishand precision; sometimes wrote her notes. She spoke and wrote Frenchtoo, and that was useful, was a musician, and had a pretty voice. Aboveall, she was a first-rate counsellor in costume; and so, looking alsoafter Mrs. Ferrars' dogs and birds, she became almost one of the family;dined with them often when they were alone, and was frequently Mrs. Ferrars' companion in her carriage. 

Sylvia, though not by nature impulsive, really adored her patroness. Shegoverned her manners and she modelled her dress on that great original, and, next to Mrs. Ferrars, Sylvia in time became nearly the finest ladyin London. There was, indeed, much in Mrs. Ferrars to captivate aperson like Sylvia. Mrs. Ferrars was beautiful, fashionable, gorgeous, wonderfully expensive, and, where her taste was pleased, profuselygenerous. Her winning manner was not less irresistible because it wassometimes uncertain, and she had the art of being intimate without beingfamiliar. 

When the crash came, Sylvia was really broken-hearted, or believed shewas, and implored that she might attend the deposed sovereigns intoexile; but that was impossible, however anxious they might be as tothe future of their favourite. Her destiny was sooner decided than theycould have anticipated. There was a member of the household, or ratherfamily, in Hill Street, who bore almost the same relation to Mr. Ferrarsas Sylvia to his wife. This was Mr. Rodney, a remarkably good-lookingperson, by nature really a little resembling his principal, andcompleting the resemblance by consummate art. The courtiers of Alexanderof Macedonia could not study their chief with more devotion, or moresedulously imitate his mien and carriage, than did Mr. Rodney thatdistinguished individual of whom he was the humble friend, and who hewas convinced was destined to be Prime Minister of England. Mr. Rodneywas the son of the office-keeper of old Mr. Ferrars, and it was theambition of the father that his son, for whom he had secured a soundeducation, should become a member of the civil service. It had become anapothegm in the Ferrars family that something must be done for Rodney, and whenever the apparent occasion failed, which was not unfrequent, oldMr. Ferrars used always to add, "Never mind; so long as I live, Rodneyshall never want a home. " The object of all this kindness, however, waslittle distressed by their failures in his preferment. He had implicitfaith in the career of his friend and master, and looked forward to thetime when it might not be impossible that he himself might find a havenin a commissionership. Recently Mr. Ferrars had been able to conferon him a small post with duties not too engrossing, and which did notprevent his regular presence in Hill Street, where he made himselfgenerally useful. 

If there were anything confidential to be accomplished in their domesticlife, everything might be trusted to his discretion and entire devotion. He supervised the establishment without injudiciously interfering withthe house-steward, copied secret papers for Mr. Ferrars, and when thatgentleman was out of office acted as his private secretary. Mr. Rodneywas the most official person in the ministerial circle. He consideredhuman nature only with reference to office. No one was so intimatelyacquainted with all the details of the lesser patronage as himself, and his hours of study were passed in the pages of the "Peerage" and inpenetrating the mysteries of the "Royal Calendar. "

The events of 1832, therefore, to this gentleman were scarcely a lesssevere blow than to the Ferrars family itself. Indeed, like his chief, he looked upon himself as the victim of a revolution. Mr. Rodney hadalways been an admirer of Sylvia, but no more. He had accompanied herto the theatre, and had attended her to the park, but this was quiteunderstood on both sides only to be gallantry; both, perhaps, in theirprosperity, with respect to the serious step of life, had indulged inhigher dreams. But the sympathy of sorrow is stronger than the sympathyof prosperity. In the darkness of their lives, each required comfort: hemurmured some accents of tender solace, and Sylvia agreed to become Mrs. Rodney. 

When they considered their position, the prospect was not free fromanxiety. To marry and then separate is, where there is affection, trying. His income would secure them little more than a roof, but how tolive under that roof was a mystery. For her to become a governess, andfor him to become a secretary, and to meet only on an occasional Sunday, was a sorry lot. And yet both possessed accomplishments or acquirementswhich ought in some degree to be productive. Rodney had a friend, and hedetermined to consult him. 

That friend was no common person; he was Mr. Vigo, by birth aYorkshireman, and gifted with all the attributes, physical andintellectual, of that celebrated race. At present he was the mostfashionable tailor in London, and one whom many persons consulted. Besides being consummate in his art, Mr. Vigo had the reputationof being a man of singularly good judgment. He was one who obtainedinfluence over all with whom he came in contact, and as his businessplaced him in contact with various classes, but especially with theclass socially most distinguished, his influence was great. The goldenyouth who repaired to his counters came there not merely to obtainraiment of the best material and the most perfect cut, but to see andtalk with Mr. Vigo, and to ask his opinion on various points. Therewas a spacious room where, if they liked, they might smoke a cigar, and"Vigo's cigars" were something which no one could rival. If they likedto take a glass of hock with their tobacco, there was a bottle readyfrom the cellars of Johannisberg. Mr. Vigo's stable was almost as famousas its master; he drove the finest horses in London, and rode thebest hunters in the Vale of Aylesbury. With all this, his manners wereexactly what they should be. He was neither pretentious nor servile, butsimple, and with becoming respect for others and for himself. He nevertook a liberty with any one, and such treatment, as is generally thecase, was reciprocal. 

Mr. Vigo was much attached to Mr. Rodney, and was proud of his intimateacquaintance with him. He wanted a friend not of his own order, for thatwould not increase or improve his ideas, but one conversant with thehabits and feelings of a superior class, and yet he did not want a finegentleman for an intimate, who would have been either an insolent patronor a designing parasite. Rodney had relations with the aristocracy, with the political world, and could feel the pulse of public life. Hisappearance was engaging, his manners gentle if not gentlemanlike, andhe had a temper never disturbed. This is a quality highly appreciatedby men of energy and fire, who may happen not to have a completeself-control. 

When Rodney detailed to his friend the catastrophe that had occurred andall its sad consequences, Mr. Vigo heard him in silence, occasionallynodding his head in sympathy or approbation, or scrutinising a statementwith his keen hazel eye. When his visitor had finished, he said--

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

And so, towards the end of the week, when the Rodneys had exhaustedtheir whole programme of projects, against every one of which thereseemed some invincible objection, their host said, "You know I ratherspeculate in houses. I bought one last year in Warwick Street. It is alarge roomy house in a quiet situation, though in a bustling quarter, just where members of parliament would like to lodge. I have put it inthorough repair. What I propose is that you should live there, let thefirst and second floors--they are equally good--and live on the groundfloor yourselves, which is amply convenient. We will not talk aboutrent till the year is over and we see how it answers. The house isunfurnished, but that is nothing. I will introduce you to a friend ofmine who will furnish it for you solidly and handsomely, you payinga percentage on the amount expended. He will want a guarantee, but ofcourse I will be that. It is an experiment, but try it. Try it fora year; at any rate you will be a householder, and you will have theopportunity of thinking of something else. "

Hitherto the Rodneys had been successful in their enterprise, and thesoundness of Mr. Vigo's advice had been proved. Their house was full, and of the best tenants. Their first floor was taken by a distinguishedM. P. , a county member of repute whom Mr. Rodney had known before the"revolution, " and who was so pleased with his quarters, and the comfortand refinement of all about him, that to ensure their constant enjoymenthe became a yearly tenant. Their second floor, which was nearly as goodas their first, was inhabited by a young gentleman of fashion, who tookthem originally only by the week, and who was always going to givethem up, but never did. The weekly lodger went to Paris, and he wentto German baths, and he went to country houses, and he was frequentlya long time away, but he never gave up his lodgings. When therefore Mr. Ferrars called in Warwick Street, the truth is the house was full andthere was no vacant room for him. But this the Rodneys would not admit. Though they were worldly people, and it seemed impossible that anythingmore could be gained from the ruined house of Hurstley, they had, like many other people, a superstition, and their superstition was anadoration of the family of Ferrars. The sight of their former master, who, had it not been for the revolution, might have been Prime Ministerof England, and the recollection of their former mistress and all hersplendour, and all the rich dresses which she used to give so profuselyto her dependent, quite overwhelmed them. Without consultation thissympathising couple leapt to the same conclusion. They assured Mr. Ferrars they could accommodate him, and that he should find everythingprepared for him when he called again, and they resigned to him, withoutacknowledging it, their own commodious and well-furnished chamber, whichMrs. Rodney prepared for him with the utmost solicitude, arranging hiswriting-table and materials as he used to have them in Hill Street, andshowing by a variety of modes she remembered all his ways. 

CHAPTER XVII

After securing his room in Warwick Street, Mr. Ferrars called on hispolitical chiefs. Though engrossed with affairs, the moment his card wasexhibited he was seen, cordially welcomed, and addressed in confidence. Not only were his claims acknowledged without being preferred, but anevidently earnest hope was expressed that they might be fully satisfied. No one had suffered more for the party and no one had worked harderor more effectively for it. But at present nothing could be done andnothing more could be said. All depended on Peel. Until he arrivednothing could be arranged. Their duties were limited to provisionallyadministering the affairs of the country until his appearance. 

It was many days, even weeks, before that event could happen. Themessenger would travel to Rome night and day, but it was calculated thatnearly three weeks must elapse before his return. Mr. Ferrars then wentto the Carlton Club, which he had assisted in forming three or fouryears before, and had established in a house of modern dimensions inCharles Street, St. James. It was called then the Charles Street gang, and none but the thoroughgoing cared to belong to it. Now he found itflourishing in a magnificent mansion on Carlton Terrace, while in verysight of its windows, on a plot of ground in Pall Mall, a palace wasrising to receive it. It counted already fifteen hundred members, whohad been selected by an omniscient and scrutinising committee, solelywith reference to their local influence throughout the country, and thebooks were overflowing with impatient candidates of rank, and wealth, and power. 

Three years ago Ferrars had been one of the leading spirits of thisgreat confederacy, and now he entered the superb chamber, and it seemedto him that he did not recognise a human being. Yet it was full tooverflowing, and excitement and anxiety and bustle were impressed onevery countenance. If he had heard some of the whispers and remarks, as he entered and moved about, his self-complacency would scarcely havebeen gratified. 

"Who is that?" inquired a young M. P. Of a brother senator not much moreexperienced. 

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

"That is Ferrars!"

"Ferrars! who is he?"

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

"Oh! ah! I remember something now, " said the young M. P. , "but anythingthat happened before the election of '32 I look upon as an oldalmanack. "

However, notwithstanding the first and painful impression of strangersand strangeness, when a little time had elapsed Ferrars found manyfriends, and among the most distinguished present. Nothing could be morehearty than their greeting, and he had not been in the room half an hourbefore he had accepted an invitation to dine that very day with LordPomeroy. 

It was a large and rather miscellaneous party, but all of the rightkidney. Some men who had been cabinet ministers, and some who expectedto be; several occupiers in old days of the secondary offices; both thewhips, one noisy and the other mysterious; several lawyers of reputewho must be brought into parliament, and some young men who haddistinguished themselves in the reformed house and whom Ferrars hadnever seen before. "It is like old days, " said the husband of Zenobia toFerrars, who sate next to him; "I hope it will float, but we shall knownothing till Peel comes. "

"He will have difficulty with his cabinet so far as the House of Commonsis concerned, " said an old privy councillor "They must have seats, andhis choice is very limited. "

"He will dissolve, " said the husband of Zenobia. "He must. "

"Wheugh!" said the privy councillor, and he shrugged his shoulders. 

"The old story will not do, " said the husband of Zenobia. "We must havenew blood. Peel must reconstruct on a broad basis. "

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

All this, and much more that he heard, made Ferrars ponder, andanxiously. No cabinet without parliament. It was but reasonable. Adissolution was therefore in his interest. And yet, what a prospect!A considerable expenditure, and yet with a considerable expenditure adoubtful result. Then reconstruction on a broad basis--what did thatmean? Neither more nor less than rival candidates for office. There wasno lack of converts. He dare say not. A great deal had developed sincehis exile at Hurstley--things which are not learned by newspapers, oreven private correspondence. He spoke to Barron after dinner. He hadreason to believe Barron was his friend. Barron could give no opinionabout dissolution; all depended on Peel. But they were acting, and hadbeen acting for some time, as if dissolution were on the cards. Ferrarshad better call upon him to-morrow, and go over the list, and see whatwould be done for him. He had every claim. 

The man with every claim called on Barron on the morrow, and saw hissecret list, and listened to all his secret prospects and secret plans. There was more than one manufacturing town where there was an opening;decided reaction, and a genuine Conservative feeling. Barron had nodoubt that, although a man might not get in the first time he stood, hewould ultimately. Ultimately was not a word which suited Mr. Ferrars. There were several old boroughs where the freemen still outnumbered theten-pounders, and where the prospects were more encouraging; but theexpense was equal to the goodness of the chance, and although Ferrarshad every claim, and would no doubt be assisted, still one could notshut one's eyes to the fact that the personal expenditure must beconsiderable. The agricultural boroughs must be fought, at least thistime, by local men. Something might be done with an Irish borough;expense, comparatively speaking inconsiderable, but the politics deeplyOrange. 

Gloom settled on the countenance of this spoiled child of politics, whohad always sate for a close borough, and who recoiled from a contestlike a woman, when he pictured to himself the struggle and exertion andpersonal suffering he would have to encounter and endure, and then withno certainty of success. The trained statesman, who had anticipatedthe mass of his party on Catholic emancipation, to become an Orangecandidate! It was worse than making speeches to ten-pounders andcanvassing freemen!

"I knew things were difficult, " said Ferrars; "but I was in hopes thatthere were yet some seats that we might command. "

"No doubt there are, " said Mr. Barron; "but they are few, and they areoccupied--at least at present. But, after all, a thousand things mayturn up, and you may consider nothing definitely arranged until SirRobert arrives. The great thing is to be on the spot. "

Ferrars wrote to his wife daily, and kept her minutely acquainted withthe course of affairs. She agreed with Barron that the great thing wasto be on the spot. She felt sure that something would turn up. She wasconvinced that Sir Robert would send for him, offer him the cabinet, andat the same time provide him with a seat. Her own inclination was stillin favour of a great colonial or foreign appointment. She still hankeredafter India; but if the cabinet were offered, as was certain, she didnot consider that William, as a man of honour, could refuse to acceptthe trust and share the peril. 

So Ferrars remained in London under the roof of the Rodneys. Thefeverish days passed in the excitement of political life in all itsmanifold forms, grave council and light gossip, dinners with only onesubject of conversation, and that never palling, and at last, evenevenings spent again under the roof of Zenobia, who, the instant herwinter apartments were ready to receive the world, had hurried up toLondon and raised her standard in St. James' Square. "It was like olddays, " as her husband had said to Ferrars when they met after a longseparation. 

Was it like old days? he thought to himself when he was alone. Old days, when the present had no care, and the future was all hope; when he wasproud, and justly proud, of the public position he had achieved, and ofall the splendid and felicitous circumstances of life that had clusteredround him. He thought of those away, and with whom during the last threeyears he had so continuously and intimately lived. And his hired homethat once had been associated only in his mind with exile, imprisonment, misfortune, almost disgrace, became hallowed by affection, and in theagony of the suspense which now involved him, and to encounter which hebegan to think his diminished nerve unequal, he would have bargained forthe rest of his life to pass undisturbed in that sweet solitude, in thedelights of study and the tranquillity of domestic love. 

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

CHAPTER XVIII

It was a dark December night when Mr. Ferrars returned to Hurstley. Hiswife, accompanied by the gardener with a lantern, met him on the green. She embraced him, and whispered, "Is it very bad, love? I fear you havesoftened it to me?"

"By no means bad, and I told you the truth: not all, for had I, myletter would have been too late. He said nothing about the cabinet, butoffered me a high post in his government, provided I could secure myseat. That was impossible. During the month I was in town I had realisedthat. I thought it best, therefore, at once to try the other tack, andnothing could be more satisfactory. "

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

"I did not. He is an honourable man, but he is cold, and my manner isnot distinguished for _abandon_. I thought it best to speak generally, and leave it to him. He acknowledged my claim, and my fitness for suchposts, and said if his government lasted it would gratify him to meet mywishes. Barron says the government will last. They will have a majority, and if Stanley and Graham had joined them, they would have had not aninconsiderable one. But in that case I should probably not have had thecabinet, if indeed he meant to offer it to me now. "

"Of course he did, " said his wife. "Who has such claims as you have?Well, now we must hope and watch. Look cheerful to the children, forthey have been very anxious. "

With this hint the meeting was not unhappy, and the evening passed withamusement and interest. Endymion embraced his father with warmth, andMyra kissed him on both cheeks. Mr. Ferrars had a great deal of gossipwhich interested his wife, and to a certain degree his children. Thelatter of course remembered Zenobia, and her sayings and doings werealways amusing. There were anecdotes, too, of illustrious persons whichalways interest, especially when in the personal experience of thosewith whom we are intimately connected. What the Duke, or Sir Robert, orLord Lyndhurst said to papa seemed doubly wiser or brighter than ifit had been said to a third person. Their relations with the worldof power, and fashion, and fame, seemed not to be extinct, at leastreviving from their torpid condition. Mr. Ferrars had also brought aGerman book for Myra; and "as for you, Endymion, " he said, "I have beenmuch more successful for you than for your father, though I hope I shallnot have myself in the long run to complain. Our friends are faithful tous, and I have got you put down on the private list for a clerkship bothin the Foreign Office and the Treasury. They are the two best things, and you will have one of the first vacancies that will occur in eitherdepartment. I know your mother wishes you to be in the ForeignOffice. Let it be so if it come. I confess, myself, remembering yourgrandfather's career, I have always a weakness for the Treasury, but solong as I see you well planted in Whitehall, I shall be content. Letme see, you will be sixteen in March. I could have wished you to waitanother year, but we must be ready when the opening occurs. "

The general election in 1834-5, though it restored the balance ofparties, did not secure to Sir Robert Peel a majority, and the anxietyof the family at Hurstley was proportionate to the occasion. Barron wasalways sanguine, but the vote on the Speakership could not but alarmthem. Barron said it did not signify, and that Sir Robert had resolvedto go on and had confidence in his measures. His measures wereexcellent, and Sir Robert never displayed more resource, more energy, and more skill, than he did in the spring of 1835. But knowledge ofhuman nature was not Sir Robert Peel's strong point, and it argued somedeficiency in that respect, to suppose that the fitness of his measurescould disarm a vindictive opposition. On the contrary, they ratherwhetted their desire of revenge, and they were doubly loth that heshould increase his reputation by availing himself of an opportunitywhich they deemed the Tory party had unfairly acquired. 

After the vote on the Speakership, Mr. Ferrars was offered asecond-class West Indian government. His wife would not listen to it. Ifit were Jamaica, the offer might be considered, though it could scarcelybe accepted without great sacrifice. The children, for instance, must beleft at home. Strange to say, Mr. Ferrars was not disinclined to acceptthe inferior post. Endymion he looked upon as virtually provided for, and Myra, he thought, might accompany them; if only for a year. But heultimately yielded, though not without a struggle, to the strong feelingof his wife. 

"I do not see why I also should not be left behind, " said Myra to herbrother in one of their confidential walks. "I should like to live inLondon in lodgings with you. "

The approaching appointment of her brother filled her from the firstwith the greatest interest. She was always talking of it when they werealone--fancying his future life, and planning how it might be happierand more easy. "My only joy in life is seeing you, " she sometimes said, "and yet this separation does not make me unhappy. It seems a chancefrom heaven for you. I pray every night it may be the Foreign Office. "

The ministry were still sanguine as to their prospects in the monthof March, and they deemed that public opinion was rallying round SirRobert. Perhaps Lord John Russell, who was the leader of the opposition, felt this, in some degree, himself, and he determined to bring affairsto a crisis by notice of a motion respecting the appropriation of therevenues of the Irish Church. Then Barron wrote to Mr. Ferrars thataffairs did not look so well, and advised him to come up to town, andtake anything that offered. "It is something, " he remarked, "to havesomething to give up. We shall not, I suppose, always be out of office, and they get preferred more easily whose promotion contributes topatronage, even while they claim its exercise. "

The ministry were in a minority on the Irish Church on April 2, theday on which Mr. Ferrars arrived in town. They did not resign, butthe attack was to be repeated in another form on the 6th. During theterrible interval Mr. Ferrars made distracted visits to Downing Street, saw secretaries of state, who sympathised with him not withstandingtheir own chagrin, and was closeted daily and hourly withunder-secretaries, parliamentary and permanent, who really alike wishedto serve him. But there was nothing to be had. He was almost meditatingtaking Sierra Leone, or the Gold Coast, when the resignation of SirRobert Peel was announced. At the last moment, there being, of course, no vacancy in the Foreign Office, or the Treasury, he obtained fromBarron an appointment for Endymion, and so, after having left Hurstleyfive months before to become Governor-General of India, this man, "whohad claims, " returned to his mortified home with a clerkship for his sonin a second-rate government office. 

CHAPTER XIX

Disappointment and distress, it might be said despair, seemed fastsettling again over the devoted roof of Hurstley, after a three years'truce of tranquillity. Even the crushing termination of her worldlyhopes was forgotten for the moment by Mrs. Ferrars in her anguish at theprospect of separation from Endymion. Such a catastrophe she had neverfor a moment contemplated. True it was she had been delighted withthe scheme of his entering the Foreign Office, but that was on theassumption that she was to enter office herself, and that, whatevermight be the scene of the daily labours of her darling child, her roofshould be his home, and her indulgent care always at his command. Butthat she was absolutely to part with Endymion, and that, at his tenderage, he was to be launched alone into the wide world, was an idea thatshe could not entertain, or even comprehend. Who was to clothe him, andfeed him, and tend him, and save him from being run over, and guide andguard him in all the difficulties and dangers of this mundane existence?It was madness, it was impossible. But Mr. Ferrars, though gentle, was firm. No doubt it was to be wished that the event could havebeen postponed for a year; but its occurrence, unless all prospect ofestablishment in life were surrendered, was inevitable, and a slightdelay would hardly render the conditions under which it happened lesstrying. Though Endymion was only sixteen, he was tall and manly beyondhis age, and during the latter years of his life, his naturally sweettemper and genial disposition had been schooled in self-discipline andself-sacrifice. He was not to be wholly left to strangers; Mr. Ferrarshad spoken to Rodney about receiving him, at least for the present, andsteps would be taken that those who presided over his office would beinfluenced in his favour. The appointment was certainly not equal towhat had been originally anticipated; but still the department, thoughnot distinguished, was highly respectable, and there was no reason onearth, if the opportunity offered, that Endymion should not be removedfrom his present post to one in the higher departments of the state. Butif this opening were rejected, what was to be the future of their son?They could not afford to send him to the University, nor did Mr. Ferrarswish him to take refuge in the bosom of the Church. As for the army, they had now no interest to acquire commissions, and if they couldsucceed so far, they could not make him an allowance, which would permithim to maintain himself as became his rank. The civil service remained, in which his grandfather had been eminent, and in which his own parent, at any rate, though the victim of a revolution, had not disgracedhimself. It seemed, under the circumstances, the natural avenue fortheir child. At least, he thought it ought to be tried. He wishednothing to be settled without the full concurrence of Endymion himself. The matter should be put fairly and clearly before him, "and for thispurpose, " concluded Mr. Ferrars, "I have just sent for him to my room;"and he retired. 

The interview between the father and the son was long. When Endymionleft the room his countenance was pale, but its expression was firm anddetermined. He went forth into the garden, and there he saw Myra. "Howlong you have been!" she said; "I have been watching for you. What issettled?"

He took her arm, and in silence led her away into one of the glades Thenhe said: "I have settled to go, and I am resolved, so long as I live, that I will never cost dear papa another shilling. Things here are verybad, quite as bad as you have sometimes fancied. But do not say anythingto poor mamma about them. "

Mr. Ferrars resolved that Endymion should go to London immediately, andthe preparations for his departure were urgent. Myra did everything. If she had been the head of a family she could not have been morethoughtful or apparently more experienced. If she had a doubt, shestepped over to Mrs. Penruddock and consulted her. As for Mrs. Ferrars, she had become very unwell, and unable to attend to anything. Heroccasional interference, fitful and feverish, and without adequateregard to circumstances, only embarrassed them. But, generally speaking, she kept to her own room, and was always weeping. 

The last day came. No one pretended not to be serious and grave. Mrs. Ferrars did not appear, but saw Endymion alone. She did not speak, butlocked him in her arms for many minutes, and then kissed him on theforehead, and, by a gentle motion, intimating that he should retire, shefell back on her sofa with closed eyes. He was alone for a short timewith his father after dinner. Mr. Ferrars said to him: "I have treatedyou in this matter as a man, and I have entire confidence in you. Yourbusiness in life is to build up again a family which was once honoured. "

Myra was still copying inventories when he returned to the drawing-room. "These are for myself, " she said, "so I shall always know what you oughtto have. Though you go so early, I shall make your breakfast to-morrow, "and, leaning back on the sofa, she took his hand. "Things are dark, andI fancy they will be darker; but brightness will come, somehow or other, to you, darling, for you are born for brightness. You will find friendsin life, and they will be women. "

It was nearly three years since Endymion had travelled down to Hurstleyby the same coach that was now carrying him to London. Though apparentlyso uneventful, the period had not been unimportant in the formation, doubtless yet partial, of his character. And all its influences had beenbeneficial to him. The crust of pride and selfishness with which largeprosperity and illimitable indulgence had encased a kind, and far frompresumptuous, disposition had been removed; the domestic sentimentsin their sweetness and purity had been developed; he had acquired someskills in scholarship and no inconsiderable fund of sound information;and the routine of religious thought had been superseded in his instanceby an amount of knowledge and feeling on matters theological, unusualat his time of life. Though apparently not gifted with any dangerousvivacity, or fatal facility of acquisition, his mind seemed clearand painstaking, and distinguished by common sense. He was brave andaccurate. 

Mr. Rodney was in waiting for him at the inn. He seemed a mostdistinguished gentleman. A hackney coach carried them to Warwick Street, where he was welcomed by Mrs. Rodney, who was exquisitely dressed. Therewas also her sister, a girl not older than Endymion, the very image ofMrs. Rodney, except that she was a brunette--a brilliant brunette. Thissister bore the romantic name of Imogene, for which she was indebtedto her father performing the part of the husband of the heroine inMaturin's tragedy of the "Castle of St. Aldobrand, " and which, under theinspiration of Kean, had set the town in a blaze about the time of herbirth. Tea was awaiting him, and there was a mixture in their severalmanners of not ungraceful hospitality and the remembrance of pastdependence, which was genuine and not uninteresting, though Endymion wasyet too inexperienced to observe all this. 

Mrs. Rodney talked very much of Endymion's mother; her wondrous beauty, her more wondrous dresses; the splendour of her fetes and equipages. As she dilated on the past, she seemed to share its lustre and itstriumphs. "The first of the land were always in attendance on her, " andfor Mrs. Rodney's part, she never saw a real horsewoman since her dearlady. Her sister did not speak, but listened with rapt attention to thegorgeous details, occasionally stealing a glance at Endymion--a glanceof deep interest, of admiration mingled as it were both with reverenceand pity. 

Mr. Rodney took up the conversation if his wife paused. He spoke ofall the leading statesmen who had been the habitual companions of Mr. Ferrars, and threw out several anecdotes respecting them from personalexperience. "I knew them all, " continued Mr. Rodney, "I might sayintimately;" and then he told his great anecdote, how he had been sofortunate as perhaps even to save the Duke's life during the ReformBill riots. "His Grace has never forgotten it, and only the day beforeyesterday I met him in St. James' Street walking with Mr. Arbuthnot, andhe touched his hat to me. "

All this gossip and good nature, and the kind and lively scene, savedEndymion from the inevitable pang, or at least greatly softened it, which accompanies our first separation from home. In due season, Mrs. Rodney observed that she doubted not Mr. Endymion, for so they evercalled him, must be wearied with his journey, and would like to retireto his room; and her husband, immediately lighting a candle, prepared tointroduce their new lodger to his quarters. 

It was a tall house, which had recently been renovated, with a storyadded to it, and on this story was Endymion's chamber; not absolutelya garret, but a modern substitute for that sort of apartment. "It israther high, " said Mr. Rodney, half apologising for the ascent, "but Mr. Ferrars himself chose the room. We took the liberty of lighting a fireto-night. "

And the cheerful blaze was welcome. It lit up a room clean and notuncomfortable. Feminine solicitude had fashioned a toilette-table forhim, and there was a bunch of geraniums in a blue vase on its sparklingdimity garniture. "I suppose you have in your bag all that you want atpresent?" said Mr. Rodney. "To-morrow we will unpack your trunks andarrange your things in their drawers; and after breakfast, if youplease, I will show you your way to Somerset House. "

Somerset House! thought Endymion, as he stood before the fire alone. Is it so near as that? To-morrow, and I am to be at Somerset House! Andthen he thought of what they were doing at Hurstley--of that terribleparting with his mother, which made him choke--and of his father's lastwords. And then he thought of Myra, and the tears stole down his cheek. And then he knelt down by his bedside and prayed. 

CHAPTER XX

Mr. Rodney would have accompanied Endymion to Somerset House under anycircumstances, but it so happened that he had reasons of his own for avisit to that celebrated building. He had occasion to see a gentlemanwho was stationed there. "Not, " as he added to Endymion, "that I knowmany here, but at the Treasury and in Downing Street I have severalacquaintances. "

They separated at the door in the great quadrangle which led to thedepartment to which Endymion was attached, and he contrived in due timeto deliver to a messenger a letter addressed to his future chief. He waskept some time in a gloomy and almost unfurnished waiting-room, and histhoughts in a desponding mood were gathering round the dear ones whowere distant, when he was summoned, and, following the messenger downa passage, was ushered into a lively apartment on which the sun wasshining, and which, with its well-lined book-shelves, and tables coveredwith papers, and bright noisy clock, and general air of habitation andbusiness, contrasted favourably with the room he had just quitted. Agood-natured-looking man held out his hand and welcomed him cordially, and said at once, "I served, Mr. Ferrars, under your grandfather at theTreasury, and I am glad to see you here. " Then he spoke of the dutieswhich Endymion would have at present to discharge. His labours at firstwould be somewhat mechanical; they would require only correctness anddiligence; but the office was a large one, and promotion not only sure, but sometimes rapid, and as he was so young, he might with attentioncount on attaining, while yet in the prime of life, a future of veryresponsible duties and of no inconsiderable emolument. And while he wasspeaking he rang the bell and commanded the attendance of a clerk, under whose care Endymion was specially placed. This was a young man ofpleasant address, who invited Endymion with kindness to accompany him, and leading him through several chambers, some capacious, and all fullof clerks seated on high stools and writing at desks, finally usheredhim into a smaller chamber where there were not above six or eight atwork, and where there was a vacant seat. "This is your place, " he said, "and now I will introduce you to your future comrades. This is Mr. Jawett, the greatest Radical of the age, and who, when he is Presidentof the Republic, will, I hope, do a job for his friends here. This isMr. St. Barbe, who, when the public taste has improved, will be the mostpopular author of the day. In the meantime he will give you a copy ofhis novel, which has not sold as it ought to have done, and in which wesay he has quizzed all his friends. This is Mr. Seymour Hicks, who, asyou must perceive, is a man of fashion. " And so he went on, with whatwas evidently accustomed raillery. All laughed, and all said somethingcourteous to Endymion, and then after a few minutes they resumed theirtasks, Endymion's work being to copy long lists of figures, and routinedocuments of public accounts. 

In the meantime, Mr. St. Barbe was busy in drawing up a public documentof a different but important character, and which was conceivedsomething in this fashion:--

"We, the undersigned, highly approving of the personal appearance andmanners of our new colleague, are unanimously of opinion that he shouldbe invited to join our symposium to-day at the immortal Joe's. "

This was quietly passed round and signed by all present, and then givento Mr. Trenchard, who, all unconsciously to the copying Endymion, wroteupon it, like a minister of state, "Approved, " with his initial. 

Joe's, more technically known as "The Blue Posts, " was a celebratedchop-house in Naseby Street, a large, low-ceilinged, wainscoted room, with the floor strewn with sawdust, and a hissing kitchen in the centre, and fitted up with what were called boxes, these being of various sizes, and suitable to the number of the guests requiring them. About this timethe fashionable coffee-houses, George's and the Piazza, and even thecoffee-rooms of Stevens' or Long's, had begun to feel the injuriouscompetition of the new clubs that of late years had been established;but these, after all, were limited, and, comparatively speaking, exclusive societies. Their influence had not touched the chop-houses, and it required another quarter of a century before their cheerful andhospitable roofs and the old taverns of London, so full, it everseemed, of merriment and wisdom, yielded to the gradually increasing butirresistible influence of those innumerable associations, which, underclassic names, or affecting to be the junior branches of celebratedconfederacies, have since secured to the million, at cost price, allthe delicacies of the season, and substituted for the zealous energyof immortal JOES the inexorable but frigid discipline of managingcommittees. 

"You are our guest to-day, " said Mr. Trenchard to Endymion. "Do not beembarrassed. It is a custom with us, but not a ruinous one. We dine offthe joint, but the meat is first-rate, and you may have as much as youlike, and our tipple is half-and-half. Perhaps you do not know it. Letme drink to your health. "

They ate most heartily; but when their well-earned meal was despatched, their conversation, assisted by a moderate portion of some celebratedtoddy, became animated, various, and interesting. Endymion was highlyamused; but being a stranger, and the youngest present, his silence wasnot unbecoming, and his manner indicated that it was not occasioned bywant of sympathy. The talk was very political. They were all what arecalled Liberals, having all of them received their appointments sincethe catastrophe of 1830; but the shades in the colour of their opinionswere various and strong. Jawett was uncompromising; ruthlessly logical, his principles being clear, he was for what he called "carrying themout" to their just conclusions. Trenchard, on the contrary, thoughteverything ought to be a compromise, and that a public man ceased to bepractical the moment he was logical. St. Barbe believed that literatureand the arts, and intellect generally, had as little to hope for fromone party as from the other; while Seymour Hicks was of opinion thatthe Tories never would rally, owing to their deficiency in socialinfluences. Seymour Hicks sometimes got an invitation to a ministerialsoiree. 

The vote of the House of Commons in favour of an appropriation ofthe surplus revenues of the Irish Church to the purposes of seculareducation--a vote which had just changed the government and expelledthe Tories--was much discussed. Jawett denounced it as a miserablesubterfuge, but with a mildness of manner and a mincing expression, which amusingly contrasted with the violence of his principles and thestrength of his language. 

"The whole of the revenues of the Protestant Church should be at onceappropriated to secular education, or to some other purpose of generalutility, " he said. "And it must come to this. "

Trenchard thought the ministry had gone as far in this matter asthey well could, and Seymour Hicks remarked that any government whichsystematically attacked the Church would have "society" against it. Endymion, who felt very nervous, but who on Church questions had strongconvictions, ventured to ask why the Church should be deprived of itsproperty. 

"In the case of Ireland, " replied Jawett, quite in a tone ofconciliatory condescension, "because it does not fulfil the purpose forwhich it was endowed. It has got the property of the nation, and itis not the Church of the people. But I go further than that. I woulddisendow every Church. They are not productive institutions. There is noreason why they should exist. There is no use in them. "

"No use in the Church!" said Endymion, reddening; but Mr. Trenchard, whohad tact, here interfered, and said, "I told you our friend Jawett isa great Radical; but he is in a minority among us on these matters. Everybody, however, says what he likes at Joe's. "

Then they talked of theatres, and critically discussed the articles inthe daily papers and the last new book, and there was much discussionrespecting a contemplated subscription boat; but still, in general, it was remarkable how they relapsed into their favouritesubject--speculation upon men in office, both permanent andparliamentary, upon their characters and capacity, their habits andtempers. One was a good administrator, another did nothing; one had nodetail, another too much; one was a screw, another a spendthrift; thisman could make a set speech, but could not reply; his rival, capital ata reply but clumsy in a formal oration. 

At this time London was a very dull city, instead of being, as it isnow, a very amusing one. Probably there never was a city in the world, with so vast a population, which was so melancholy. The aristocracyprobably have always found amusements adapted to the manners of the timeand the age in which they lived. The middle classes, half a centuryago, had little distraction from their monotonous toil and melancholyanxieties, except, perhaps, what they found in religious andphilanthropic societies. Their general life must have been very dull. Some traditionary merriment always lingered among the working classes ofEngland. Both in town and country they had always their games and fairsand junketing parties, which have developed into excursion trains andcolossal pic-nics. But of all classes of the community, in the daysof our fathers, there was none so unfortunate in respect of publicamusements as the bachelors about town. There were, one might almostsay, only two theatres, and they so huge, that it was difficult to seeor hear in either. Their monopolies, no longer redeemed by the statelygenius of the Kembles, the pathos of Miss O'Neill, or the fiery passionof Kean, were already menaced, and were soon about to fall; but thecrowd of diminutive but sparkling substitutes, which have since takentheir place, had not yet appeared, and half-price at Drury Lane orCovent Garden was a dreary distraction after a morning of desk work. There were no Alhambras then, and no Cremornes, no palaces of crystal interraced gardens, no casinos, no music-halls, no aquaria, no promenadeconcerts. Evans' existed, but not in the fulness of its moderndevelopment; and the most popular place of resort was the barbarousconviviality of the Cider Cellar. 

Mr. Trenchard had paid the bill, collected his quotas and rewarded thewaiter, and then, as they all rose, said to Endymion, "We are going tothe Divan. Do you smoke?"

Endymion shook his head; but Trenchard added, "Well, you will some day;but you had better come with us. You need not smoke; you can order a cupof coffee, and then you may read all the newspapers and magazines. It isa nice lounge. "

So, emerging from Naseby Street into the Strand, they soon entereda tobacconist's shop, and passing through it were admitted into acapacious saloon, well lit and fitted up with low, broad sofas, fixedagainst the walls, and on which were seated, or reclining, many persons, chiefly smoking cigars, but some few practising with the hookah andother oriental modes. In the centre of the room was a table covered withnewspapers and publications of that class. The companions from Joe'sbecame separated after their entrance, and St. Barbe, addressingEndymion, said, "I am not inclined to smoke to-day. We will order somecoffee, and you will find some amusement in this;" and he placed in hishands a number of "SCARAMOUCH. "

"I hope you will like your new life, " said St. Barbe, throwing down areview on the Divan, and leaning back sipping his coffee. "One thing maybe said in favour of it: you will work with a body of as true-heartedcomrades as ever existed. They are always ready to assist one. Thoroughgood-natured fellows, that I will say for them. I suppose it isadversity, " he continued, "that develops the kindly qualities of ournature. I believe the sense of common degradation has a tendency to makethe degraded amiable--at least among themselves. I am told it is foundso in the plantations in slave-gangs. "

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

"It is horrible to think of gentlemen, and men of education, and perhapsfirst-rate talents--who knows?--reduced to our straits, " said St. Barbe. "I do not follow Jawett in all his views, for I hate political economy, and never could understand it; and he gives it you pure and simple, eh?eh?--but, I say, it is something awful to think of the incomes that somemen are making, who could no more write an article in 'SCARAMOUCH' thanfly. "

"But our incomes may improve, " said Endymion. "I was told to-day thatpromotion was even rapid in our office. "

"Our incomes may improve when we are bent and grey, " said St. Barbe, "and we may even retire on a pension about as good as a noblemanleaves to his valet. Oh, it is a horrid world! Your father is a privycouncillor, is not he?"

"Yes, and so was my grandfather, but I do not think I shall ever beone. "

"It is a great thing to have a father a privy councillor, " said St. Barbe, with a glance of envy. "If I were the son of a privy councillor, those demons, Shuffle and Screw, would give me 500 pounds for my novel, which now they put in their beastly magazine and print in small type, and do not pay me so much as a powdered flunkey has in St. James'Square. I agree with Jawett: the whole thing is rotten. "

"Mr. Jawett seems to have very strange opinions, " said Endymion. "Idid not like to hear what he said at dinner about the Church, but Mr. Trenchard turned the conversation, and I thought it best to let itpass. "

"Trenchard is a sensible man, and a good fellow, " said St. Barbe; "youlike him?"

"I find him kind. "

"Do you know, " said St. Barbe, in a whisper, and with a distressed andalmost vindictive expression of countenance, "that man may come any dayinto four thousand a year. There is only one life between him andthe present owner. I believe it is a good life, " he added, in a morecheerful voice, "but still it might happen. Is it not horrible? Fourthousand a year! Trenchard with four thousand a year, and we receivinglittle more than the pay of a butler!"

"Well, I wish, for his sake, he might have it, " said Endymion, "though Imight lose a kind friend. "

"Look at Seymour Hicks, " said St. Barbe; "he has smoked his cigar, andhe is going. He never remains. He is going to a party, I'll be found. That fellow gets about in a most extraordinary manner. Is it notdisgusting? I doubt whether he is asked much to dinner though, or Ithink we should have heard of it. Nevertheless, Trenchard said the otherday that Hicks had dined with Lord Cinque-Ports. I can hardly believeit; it would be too disgusting. No lord ever asked me to dinner. But thearistocracy of this country are doomed!"

"Mr. Hicks, " said Endymion, "probably lays himself out for society. "

"I suppose you will, " said St. Barbe, with a scrutinising air. "I shouldif I were the son of a privy councillor. Hicks is nothing; his fatherkept a stable-yard and his mother was an actress. We have had severaldignitaries of the Church in my family and one admiral. And yet Hicksdines with Lord Cinque-Ports! It is positively revolting! But the thingshe does to get asked!--sings, rants, conjures, ventriloquises, mimics, stands on his head. His great performance is a parliamentary debate. Wewill make him do it for you. And yet with all this a dull dog--a verydull dog, sir. He wrote for 'Scaramouch' some little time, but they canstand it no more. Between you and me, he has had notice to quit. ThatI know; and he will probably get the letter when he goes home fromhis party to-night. So much for success in society! I shall now saygood-night to you. "

CHAPTER XXI

It was only ten o'clock when Endymion returned to Warwick Street, andfor the first time in his life used a pass-key, with which Mr. Rodneyhad furnished him in the morning, and re-entered his new home. Hethought he had used it very quietly, and was lighting his candle andabout to steal up to his lofty heights, when from the door of theparlour, which opened into the passage, emerged Miss Imogene, who tookthe candlestick from his hand and insisted on waiting upon him. 

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

So she tripped up lightly before him, showing, doubtless withoutpremeditation, as well-turned an ankle and as pretty a foot as couldfall to a damsel's fortunate lot. "My sister and Mr. Rodney have gone tothe play, " she said, "but they left strict instructions with me to seethat you were comfortable, and that you wanted for nothing that we couldsupply. "

"You are too kind, " said Endymion, as she lighted the candles on hisdressing-table, "and, to tell you the truth, these are luxuries I am notaccustomed to, and to which I am not entitled. "

"And yet, " she said, with a glance of blended admiration and pity, "theytell me time was when gold was not good enough for you, and I do notthink it could be. "

"Such kindness as this, " said Endymion, "is more precious than gold. "

"I hope you will find your things well arranged. All your clothes are inthese two drawers; the coats in the bottom one, and your linen in thoseabove. You will not perhaps be able to find your pocket-handkerchiefsat first. They are in this sachet; my sister made it herself. Mr. Rodneysays you are to be called at eight o'clock and breakfast at nine. Ithink everything is right. Good-night, Mr. Endymion. "

The Rodney household was rather a strange one. The first two floors, aswe have mentioned, were let, and at expensive rates, for the apartmentswere capacious and capitally furnished, and the situation, if notdistinguished, was extremely convenient--quiet from not being athoroughfare, and in the heart of civilisation. They only kept a coupleof servants, but their principal lodgers had their personal attendants. And yet after sunset the sisters appeared and presided at theirtea-table, always exquisitely dressed; seldom alone, for Mr. Rodneyhad many friends, and lived in a capacious apartment, rather finelyfurnished, with a round table covered with gaudy print-books, amantelpiece crowded with vases of mock Dresden, and a cottage piano, onwhich Imogene could accompany her more than pleasing voice. 

Somehow or other, the process is difficult to trace, Endymion notunfrequently found himself at Mrs. Rodney's tea-table. On the firstoccasion or so, he felt himself a little shy and embarrassed, but itsoon became natural to him, and he would often escape from the symposiaat Joe's, and, instead of the Divan, find in Warwick Street a morecongenial scene. There were generally some young men there, who seemeddelighted with the ladies, listened with enthusiasm to Imogene'ssinging, and were allowed to smoke. They were evidently gentlemen, andindeed Mr. Rodney casually mentioned to Endymion that one of the mostfrequent guests might some day even be a peer of the realm. Sometimesthere was a rubber of whist, and, if wanted, Mrs. Rodney took a hand init; Endymion sitting apart and conversing with her sister, who amusedhim by her lively observations, indicating even flashes of culture; butalways addressed him without the slightest pretence and with the utmostnaturalness. This was not the case with Mr. Rodney; pretence with himwas ingrained, and he was at first somewhat embarrassed by the presenceof Endymion, as he could hardly maintain before his late patron's sonhis favourite character of the aristocratic victim of revolution. Andyet this drawback was more than counterbalanced by the gratification ofhis vanity in finding a Ferrars his habitual guest. Such a luxury seemeda dangerous indulgence, but he could not resist it, and the moth wasalways flying round the candle. There was no danger, however, and thatMr. Rodney soon found out. Endymion was born with tact, and it came tohim as much from goodness of heart as fineness of taste. Mr. Rodney, therefore, soon resumed his anecdotes of great men and his personalexperience of their sayings, manners, and customs, with which he wasin the habit of enlivening or ornamenting the whist table; occasionallyintroducing Endymion to the notice of the table by mentioning in a lowtone, "That is Mr. Ferrars, in a certain sense under my care; his fatheris a privy councillor, and had it not been for the revolution--for Imaintain, and always will, the Reform Bill was neither more nor lessthan a revolution--would probably have been Prime Minister. He was myearliest and my best friend. "

When there were cards, there was always a little supper: a lobster anda roasted potato and that sort of easy thing, and curious drinks, whichthe sisters mixed and made, and which no one else, at least all said so, could mix and make. On fitting occasions a bottle of champagne appeared, and then the person for whom the wine was produced was sure withwonderment to say, "Where did you get this champagne, Rodney? Could youget me some?" Mr. Rodney shook his head and scarcely gave a hope, but subsequently, when the praise in consequence had continued andincreased, would observe, "Do you really want some? I cannot promise, but I will try. Of course they will ask a high figure. "

"Anything they like, my dear Rodney. "

And in about a week's time the gentleman was so fortunate as to get hischampagne. 

There was one subject in which Mr. Rodney appeared to be particularlyinterested, and that was racing. The turf at that time had not developedinto that vast institution of national demoralisation which it nowexhibits. That disastrous character may be mainly attributed to thedetermination of our legislators to put down gaming-houses, which, practically speaking, substituted for the pernicious folly of acomparatively limited class the ruinous madness of the community. Therewere many influences by which in the highest classes persons mightbe discouraged or deterred from play under a roof; and in the greatmajority of cases such a habit was difficult, not to say impossible, toindulge. But in shutting up gaming-houses, we brought the gaming-tableinto the street, and its practices became the pursuit of those whowould otherwise have never witnessed or even thought of them. No doubtCrockford's had its tragedies, but all its disasters and calamitiestogether would hardly equal a lustre of the ruthless havoc which hasensued from its suppression. 

Nevertheless, in 1835 men made books, and Mr. Rodney was not inexpertin a composition which requires no ordinary qualities of characterand intelligence; method, judgment, self-restraint, not too muchimagination, perception of character, and powers of calculation. Allthese qualities were now in active demand and exercise; for the Derbywas at hand, and the Rodney family, deeply interested in the result, were to attend the celebrated festival. 

One of the young gentlemen, who sometimes smoked a cigar and sometimestasted a lobster in their parlour, and who seemed alike and equallydevoted to Mrs. Rodney and her sister, insisted upon taking them toEpsom in his drag, and they themselves were to select the party toaccompany them. That was not difficult, for they were naturally allfriends of their munificent host with one exception. Imogene stipulatedthat Endymion should be asked, and Mr. Rodney supported the suggestion. "He is the son of the privy councillor the Right Hon. William PittFerrars, my earliest and my best friend, and in a certain sense is undermy care. "

The drive to the Derby was not then shorn of its humours and glories. Itwas the Carnival of England, with equipages as numerous and various, and with banter not less quick and witty. It was a bright day--a day, nodoubt, of wild hopes and terrible fears, but yet, on the whole, of joyand exultation. And no one was happier and prouder than pretty Mrs. Rodney, exquisitely dressed and sitting on the box of a patriciandrag, beside its noble owner. On the seat behind them was Imogene, withEndymion on one side, and on the other the individual "who might oneday be a peer. " Mr. Rodney and some others, including Mr. Vigo, faceda couple of grooms, who sat with folded arms and unmoved countenances, fastidiously stolid amid all the fun, and grave even when they openedthe champagne. 

The right horse won. Mr. Rodney and his friends pocketed a good stake, and they demolished their luncheon of luxuries with frantic gaiety. 

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

"Oh! much more than anything you can find there, " simpered Mrs. Rodney. 

"I declare to you, some of the happiest hours of my life have beenpassed in Warwick Street, " gravely murmured her friend. 

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

As for Endymion, he enjoyed himself amazingly. The whole scene was newto him--he had never been at a race before, and this was the most famousof races. He did not know he had betted, but he found he too had won alittle money, Mr. Rodney having put him on something, though what thatmeant he had not the remotest idea. Imogene, however, assured him it wasall right--Mr. Rodney constantly put her on something. He enjoyedthe luncheon too; the cold chicken, and the French pies, the wondroussalads, and the iced champagne. It seemed that Imogene was alwaystaking care that his plate or his glass should be filled. Everything wasdelightful, and his noble host, who, always courteous, had hitherto beenreserved, called him "Ferrars. "

What with the fineness of the weather, the inspirations of the excitedand countless multitude, the divine stimulus of the luncheon, thekindness of his charming companions, and the general feeling ofenjoyment and success that seemed to pervade his being, Endymion feltas he were almost acting a distinguished part in some grand triumph ofantiquity, as returning home, the four splendid dark chestnuts sweptalong, two of their gay company playing bugles, and the grooms sittingwith folded arms of haughty indifference. 

Just at this moment his eye fell upon an omnibus full, inside and out, of clerks in his office. There was a momentary stoppage, and while hereturned the salute of several of them, his quick eye could not avoidrecognising the slightly surprised glance of Trenchard, the curiousamazement of Seymour Hicks, and the indignant astonishment of St. Barbe. 

"Our friend Ferrars seems in tiptop company, " said Trenchard. 

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

"There is no more advantage in going with four horses than with two, "said St. Barbe; "indeed, I believe you go slower. It is mere pride;puffed-up vanity. I should like to send those two grooms with theirfolded arms to the galleys--I hate those fellows. For my part, I neverwas behind four horses except in a stage-coach. No peer of the realmever took me on his drag. However, a day of reckoning will come; thepeople won't stand this much longer. "

Jawett was not there, for he disapproved of races. 

CHAPTER XXII

Endymion had to encounter a rather sharp volley when he went to theoffice next morning. After some general remarks as to the distinguishedparty which he had accompanied to the races, Seymour Hicks could notresist inquiring, though with some circumlocution, whether the lady wasa countess. The lady was not a countess. Who was the lady? The lady wasMrs. Rodney. Who was Mrs. Rodney? She was the wife of Mr. Rodney, whoaccompanied her. Was Mr. Rodney a relation of Lord Rodney? Endymionbelieved he was not a relation of Lord Rodney. Who was Mr. Rodney then?

"Mr. Rodney is an old friend of my father. "

This natural solution of doubts and difficulties arrested all furtherinquiry. Generally speaking, the position of Endymion in his new lifewas satisfactory. He was regular and assiduous in his attendance atoffice, was popular with his comrades, and was cherished by his chief, who had even invited him to dinner. His duties were certainly at presentmechanical, but they were associated with an interesting profession;and humble as was his lot, he began to feel the pride of public life. Hecontinued to be a regular guest at Joe's, and was careful not to seemto avoid the society of his fellow-clerks in the evenings, for he hadan instinctive feeling that it was as well they should not becomeacquainted with his circle in Warwick Street. And yet to him theattractions of that circle became daily more difficult to resist. Andoften when he was enduring the purgatory of the Divan, listening to thesnarls of St. Barbe over the shameful prosperity of everybody in thisworld except the snarler, or perhaps went half-price to the pit of DruryLane with the critical Trenchard, he was, in truth, restless and absent, and his mind was in another place, indulging in visions which he did notcare to analyse, but which were very agreeable. 

One evening, shortly after the expedition to Epsom, while the rest wereplaying a rubber, Imogene said to him, "I wish you to be friends withMr. Vigo; I think he might be of use to you. "

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

Waldershare was a tenant of the second floor. He was the young gentleman"who might some day be a peer. " He was a young man of about three orfour and twenty years; fair, with short curly brown hair and blue eyes;not exactly handsome, but with a countenance full of expression, and theindex of quick emotions, whether of joy or of anger. Waldershare was theonly child of a younger son of a patrician house, and had inherited fromhis father a moderate but easy fortune. He had been the earliest lodgerof the Rodneys, and, taking advantage of the Tory reaction, had justbeen returned to the House of Commons. 

What he would do there was a subject of interesting speculation to hisnumerous friends, and it may be said admirers. Waldershare was one ofthose vivid and brilliant organisations which exercise a peculiarlyattractive influence on youth. He had been the hero of the debating clubat Cambridge, and many believed in consequence that he must becomeprime minister. He was witty and fanciful, and, though capricious andbad-tempered, could flatter and caress. At Cambridge he had introducedthe new Oxford heresy, of which Nigel Penruddock was a votary. Waldershare prayed and fasted, and swore by Laud and Strafford. He took, however, a more eminent degree at Paris than at his original Alma Mater, and becoming passionately addicted to French literature, his viewsrespecting both Church and State became modified--at least in private. His entrance into English society had been highly successful, and as hehad a due share of vanity, and was by no means free from worldliness, he had enjoyed and pursued his triumphs. But his versatile nature, whichrequired not only constant, but novel excitement, became palled, evenwith the society of duchesses. There was a monotony in the splendour ofaristocratic life which wearied him, and for some time he had persuadedhimself that the only people who understood the secret of existence werethe family under whose roof he lodged. 

Waldershare was profligate, but sentimental; unprincipled, but romantic;the child of whim, and the slave of an imagination so freakish anddeceptive, that it was always impossible to foretell his course. He wasalike capable of sacrificing all his feelings to worldly considerationsor of forfeiting the world for a visionary caprice. At present hisfavourite scheme, and one to which he seemed really attached, was toeducate Imogene. Under his tuition he had persuaded himself that shewould turn out what he styled "a great woman. " An age of vast change, according to Waldershare, was impending over us. There was no malecareer in which one could confide. Most men of mark would probably bevictims, but "a great woman" must always make her way. Whatever thecircumstances, she would adapt herself to them; if necessary, wouldmould and fashion them. His dream was that Imogene should go forthand conquer the world, and that in the sunset of life he should find arefuge in some corner of her palace. 

Imogene was only a child when Waldershare first became a lodger. Sheused to bring his breakfast to his drawing-room and arrange his table. He encountered her one day, and he requested her to remain, and alwayspreside over his meal. He fell in love with her name, and wrote her aseries of sonnets, idealising her past, panegyrising her present, and prophetic of her future life. Imogene, who was neither shy norobtrusive, was calm amid all his vagaries, humoured his fancies, evenwhen she did not understand them, and read his verses as she would aforeign language which she was determined to master. 

Her culture, according to Waldershare, was to be carried on chiefly byconversations. She was not to read, or at least not to read much, untilher taste was formed and she had acquired the due share of previousknowledge necessary to profitable study. As Waldershare was eloquent, brilliant, and witty, Imogene listened to him with wondering interestand amusement, even when she found some difficulty in following him; buther apprehension was so quick and her tact so fine, that her progress, though she was almost unconscious of it, was remarkable. Sometimes inthe evening, while the others were smoking together or playing whist, Waldershare and Imogene, sitting apart, were engaged in apparentlythe most interesting converse. It was impossible not to observe theanimation and earnestness of Waldershare, and the great attention withwhich his companion responded to his representations. Yet all this timehe was only giving her a lecture on Madame de Sevigne. 

Waldershare used to take Imogene to the National Gallery and HamptonCourt, and other delightful scenes of popular education, but of lateMrs. Rodney had informed her sister that she was no longer young enoughto permit these expeditions. Imogene accepted the announcement withouta murmur, but it occasioned Waldershare several sonnets of heartrendingremonstrance. Imogene continued, however, to make his breakfast, andkept his Parliamentary papers in order, which he never could manage, but the mysteries of which Imogene mastered with feminine quickness andprecision. Whenever Waldershare was away he always maintained a constantcorrespondence with Imogene. In this he communicated everything to herwithout the slightest reserve; describing everything he saw, almosteverything he heard, pages teeming with anecdotes of a world of whichshe could know nothing--the secrets of courts and coteries, memoirs ofprinces and ministers, of dandies and dames of fashion. "If anythinghappens to me, " Waldershare would say to Imogene, "this correspondencemay be worth thousands to you, and when it is published it will connectyour name with mine, and assist my grand idea of your becoming 'a greatwoman. '"

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

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

The villa of Mr. Vigo was on the banks of the Thames, and had oncebelonged to a noble customer. The Palladian mansion contained a suite ofchambers of majestic dimensions--lofty ceilings, rich cornices, andvast windows of plate glass; the gardens were rich with the products ofconservatories which Mr. Vigo had raised with every modern improvement, and a group of stately cedars supported the dignity of the scene andgave to it a name. Beyond, a winding walk encircled a large fieldwhich Mr. Vigo called the park, and which sparkled with gold and silverpheasants, and the keeper lived in a newly-raised habitation at theextreme end, which took the form of a Swiss cottage. 

The Rodney family, accompanied by Mr. Waldershare and Endymion, went tothe Cedars by water. It was a delightful afternoon of June, the riverwarm and still, and the soft, fitful western breeze occasionally richwith the perfume of the gardens of Putney and Chiswick. Waldersharetalked the whole way. It was a rhapsody of fancy, fun, knowledge, anecdote, brilliant badinage--even passionate seriousness. Sometimeshe recited poetry, and his voice was musical; and, then, when he hadattuned his companions to a sentimental pitch, he would break intomockery, and touch with delicate satire every mood of human feeling. Endymion listened to him in silence and admiration. He had never heardWaldershare talk before, and he had never heard anybody like him. Allthis time, what was now, and ever, remarkable in Waldershare were hismanners. They were finished, even to courtliness. Affable and winning, he was never familiar. He always addressed Sylvia as if she were one ofthose duchesses round whom he used to linger. He would bow deferentiallyto her remarks, and elicit from some of her casual observations an acuteor graceful meaning, of which she herself was by no means conscious. Thebow of Waldershare was a study. Its grace and ceremony must have beenorganic; for there was no traditionary type in existence from which hecould have derived or inherited it. He certainly addressed Imogene andspoke to her by her Christian name; but this was partly because he wasin love with the name, and partly because he would persist in stilltreating her as a child. But his manner to her always was that of tenderrespect. She was almost as silent as Endymion during their voyage, butnot less attentive to her friend. Mr. Rodney was generally silent, andnever opened his mouth on this occasion except in answer to an inquiryfrom his wife as to whom a villa might belong, and it seemed always thathe knew every villa, and every one to whom they belonged. 

The sisters were in demi-toilette, which seemed artless, though infact it was profoundly devised. Sylvia was the only person who reallyunderstood the meaning of "simplex munditiis, " and this was one ofthe secrets of her success. There were some ladies, on the lawn of theCedars when they arrived, not exactly of their school, and who werefinely and fully dressed. Mrs. Gamme was the wife of a sporting attorneyof Mr. Vigo, and who also, having a villa at hand, was looked upon asa country neighbour. Mrs. Gamme was universally recognised to be afine woman, and she dressed up to her reputation. She was a famouswhist-player at high points, and dealt the cards with hands covered withdiamond rings. Another country neighbour was the chief partner in thecelebrated firm of Hooghley, Dacca, and Co. , dealers in Indian and othershawls. Mr. Hooghley had married a celebrated actress, and was proud anda little jealous of his wife. Mrs. Hooghley had always an opportunityat the Cedars of meeting some friends in her former profession, for Mr. Vigo liked to be surrounded by genius and art. "I must have talent, " hewould exclaim, as he looked round at the amusing and motley multitudeassembled at his splendid entertainments. And to-day upon his lawn mightbe observed the first tenor of the opera and a prima-donna who had justarrived, several celebrated members of the English stage of both sexes, artists of great reputation, whose principal works already adorned thewell-selected walls of the Cedars, a danseuse or two of celebrity, someliterary men, as Mr. Vigo styled them, who were chiefly brethren of thepolitical press, and more than one member of either House of Parliament. 

Just as the party were preparing to leave the lawn and enter thedining-room arrived, breathless and glowing, the young earl who haddriven the Rodneys to the Derby. 

"A shaver, my dear Vigo! Only returned to town this afternoon, andfound your invitation. How fortunate!" And then he looked around, andrecognising Mrs. Rodney, was immediately at her side. "I must have thehonour of taking you into dinner. I got your note, but only by thismorning's post. "

The dinner was a banquet, --a choice bouquet before every guest, turtleand venison and piles of whitebait, and pine-apples of prodigious size, and bunches of grapes that had gained prizes. The champagne seemed toflow in fountains, and was only interrupted that the guests might quaffBurgundy or taste Tokay. But what was more delightful than all was theenjoyment of all present, and especially of their host. That is a raresight. Banquets are not rare, nor choice guests, nor gracious hosts; butwhen do we ever see a person enjoy anything? But these gay children ofart and whim, and successful labour and happy speculation, some of themvery rich and some of them without a sou, seemed only to think of thefestive hour and all its joys. Neither wealth nor poverty brought themcares. Every face sparkled, every word seemed witty, and every soundseemed sweet. A band played upon the lawn during the dinner, and weresucceeded, when the dessert commenced, by strange choruses from singersof some foreign land, who for the first time aired their picturesquecostumes on the banks of the Thames. 

When the ladies had withdrawn to the saloon, the first comic singer ofthe age excelled himself; and when they rejoined their fair friends, theprimo-tenore and the prima-donna gave them a grand scene, succeeded bythe English performers in a favourite scene from a famous farce. ThenMrs. Gamme had an opportunity of dealing with her diamond rings, andthe rest danced--a waltz of whirling grace, or merry cotillon of jocundbouquets. 

"Well, Clarence, " said Waldershare to the young earl, as they stood fora moment apart, "was I right?"

"By Jove! yes. It is the only life. You were quite right. We shouldindeed be fools to sacrifice ourselves to the conventional. "

The Rodney party returned home in the drag of the last speaker. Theywere the last to retire, as Mr. Vigo wished for one cigar with his noblefriend. As he bade farewell, and cordially, to Endymion, he said, "Callon me to-morrow morning in Burlington Street in your way to your office. Do not mind the hour. I am an early bird. "

CHAPTER XXIII

"It is no favour, " said Mr. Vigo; "it is not even an act offriendliness; it is a freak, and it is my freak; the favour, if there beone, is conferred by you. "

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

"I am not a classical scholar, " said Mr. Vigo, "but there are two thingswhich I think I understand--men and horses. I like to back them bothwhen I think they ought to win. "

"But I am scarcely a man, " said Endymion, rather piteously, "and Isometimes think I shall never win anything. "

"That is my affair, " replied Mr. Vigo; "you are a yearling, and I haveformed my judgment as to your capacity. What I wish to do in your caseis what I have done in others, and some memorable ones. Dress doesnot make a man, but it often makes a successful one. The most preciousstone, you know, must be cut and polished. I shall enter your name in mybooks for an unlimited credit, and no account to be settled till you area privy councillor. I do not limit the credit, because you are a man ofsense and a gentleman, and will not abuse it. But be quite as carefulnot to stint yourself as not to be needlessly extravagant. In the firstinstance, you would be interfering with my experiment, and that wouldnot be fair. "

This conversation took place in Mr. Vigo's counting-house the morningafter the entertainment at his villa. Endymion called upon Mr. Vigo inhis way to his office, as he had been requested to do, and Mr. Vigohad expressed his wishes and intentions with regard to Endymion, asintimated in the preceding remarks. 

"I have known many an heiress lost by her suitor being ill-dressed, "said Mr. Vigo. "You must dress according to your age, your pursuits, your object in life; you must dress too, in some cases, according toyour set. In youth a little fancy is rather expected, but ifpolitical life be your object, it should be avoided, at least afterone-and-twenty. I am dressing two brothers now, men of considerableposition; one is a mere man of pleasure, the other will probably be aminister of state. They are as like as two peas, but were I to dressthe dandy and the minister the same, it would be bad taste--it would beridiculous. No man gives me the trouble which Lord Eglantine does;he has not made up his mind whether he will be a great poet or primeminister. 'You must choose, my lord, ' I tell him. 'I cannot send you outlooking like Lord Byron if you mean to be a Canning or a Pitt. ' I havedressed a great many of our statesmen and orators, and I always dressedthem according to their style and the nature of their duties. What allmen should avoid is the 'shabby genteel. ' No man ever gets over it. Iwill save you from that. You had better be in rags. "

CHAPTER XXIV

When the twins had separated, they had resolved on a system ofcommunication which had been, at least on the part of Myra, scrupulouslymaintained. They were to interchange letters every week, and each letterwas to assume, if possible, the shape of a journal, so that when theyagain met no portion of the interval should be a blank in their pastlives. There were few incidents in the existence of Myra; a book, awalk, a visit to the rectory, were among the chief. The occupations oftheir father were unchanged, and his health seemed sustained, but thatof her mother was not satisfactory. Mrs. Ferrars had never rallied sincethe last discomfiture of her political hopes, and had never resumed herprevious tenour of life. She was secluded, her spirits uncertain, moodsof depression succeeded by fits of unaccountable excitement, and, onthe whole, Myra feared a general and chronic disturbance of her nervoussystem. His sister prepared Endymion for encountering a great change intheir parent when he returned home. Myra, however, never expatiated onthe affairs of Hurstley. Her annals in this respect were somewhat dry. She fulfilled her promise of recording them, but no more. Her pen wasfuller and more eloquent in her comments on the life of her brother, andof the new characters with whom he had become acquainted. She delightedto hear about Mr. Jawett, and especially about Mr. St. Barbe, and wasmuch pleased that he had been to the Derby, though she did not exactlycollect who were his companions. Did he go with that kind Mr. Trenchant?It would seem that Endymion's account of the Rodney family had beenlimited to vague though earnest acknowledgments of their great civilityand attention, which added much to the comfort of his life. Impelledby some of these grateful though general remarks, Mrs. Ferrars, in aparoxysm of stately gratitude, had sent a missive to Sylvia, such asa sovereign might address to a deserving subject, at the same timeacknowledging and commending her duteous services. Such was the olddomestic superstition of the Rodneys, that, with all their worldliness, they treasured this effusion as if it had really emanated from thecentre of power and courtly favour. 

Myra, in her anticipation of speedily meeting her brother, was doomed todisappointment. She had counted on Endymion obtaining some holidays inthe usual recess, but in consequence of having so recently joined theoffice, Endymion was retained for summer and autumnal work, and notuntil Christmas was there any prospect of his returning home. 

The interval between midsummer and that period, though not devoid ofseasons of monotony and loneliness, passed in a way not altogetherunprofitable to Endymion. Waldershare, who had begun to notice him, seemed to become interested in his career. Waldershare knew all abouthis historic ancestor, Endymion Carey. The bubbling imagination ofWaldershare clustered with a sort of wild fascination round a livinglink with the age of the cavaliers. He had some Stuart blood in hisveins, and his ancestors had fallen at Edgehill and Marston Moor. Waldershare, whose fancies alternated between Stafford and St. Just, Archbishop Laud and the Goddess of Reason, reverted for the moment tohis visions on the banks of the Cam, and the brilliant rhapsodies ofhis boyhood. His converse with Nigel Penruddock had prepared Endymion insome degree for these mysteries, and perhaps it was because Waldersharefound that Endymion was by no means ill-informed on these matters, andtherefore there was less opportunity of dazzling and moulding him, whichwas a passion with Waldershare, that he soon quitted the Great Rebellionfor pastures new, and impressed upon his pupil that all that hadoccurred before the French Revolution was ancient history. The FrenchRevolution had introduced the cosmopolitan principle into human affairsinstead of the national, and no public man could succeed who did notcomprehend and acknowledge that truth. Waldershare lent Endymion books, and book with which otherwise he would not have become acquainted. Unconsciously to himself, the talk of Waldershare, teeming withknowledge, and fancy, and playfulness, and airy sarcasm of life, taughthim something of the art of conversation--to be prompt without beingstubborn, to refute without argument, and to clothe grave matters in amotley garb. 

But in August Waldershare disappeared, and at the beginning ofSeptember, even the Rodneys had gone to Margate. St. Barbe was the onlyclerk left in Endymion's room. They dined together almost every day, andwent on the top of an omnibus to many a suburban paradise. "I tellyou what, " said St. Barbe, as they were watching one day togetherthe humours of the world in the crowded tea-garden and bustlingbowling-green of Canonbury Tavern; "a fellow might get a good chapterout of this scene. I could do it, but I will not. What is the use oflavishing one's brains on an ungrateful world? Why, if that fellow Gushywere to write a description of this place, which he would do like apenny-a-liner drunk with ginger beer, every countess in Mayfair would bereading him, not knowing, the idiot, whether she ought to smile or shedtears, and sending him cards with 'at home' upon them as large as life. Oh! it is disgusting! absolutely disgusting. It is a nefarious world, sir. You will find it out some day. I am as much robbed by that fellowGushy as men are on the highway. He is appropriating my income, andthe income of thousands of honest fellows. And then he pretends he iswriting for the people! The people! What does he know about the people?Annals of the New Cut and Saffron Hill. He thinks he will frighten somelord, who will ask him to dinner. And that he calls Progress. I hardlyknow which is the worst class in this country--the aristocracy, themiddle class, or what they call the people. I hate them all. "

About the fall of the leaf the offices were all filled again, and amongthe rest Trenchard returned. "His brother has been ill, " said St. Barbe. "They say that Trenchard is very fond of him. Fond of a brother whokeeps him out of four thousand pounds per annum! What will man notsay? And yet I could not go and congratulate Trenchard on his brother'sdeath. It would be 'bad taste. ' Trenchard would perhaps never speak tome again, though he had been lying awake all night chuckling over theevent. And Gushy takes an amiable view of this world of hypocrisy andplunder. And that is why Gushy is so popular!"

There was one incident at the beginning of November, which eventuallyexercised no mean influence on the life of Endymion. Trenchard offeredone evening to introduce him as a guest to a celebrated debatingsociety, of which Trenchard was a distinguished member. This society hadgrown out of the Union at Cambridge, and was originally intended to havebeen a metropolitan branch of that famous association. But in processof time it was found that such a constitution was too limited to ensurethose numbers and that variety of mind desirable in such an institution. It was therefore opened to the whole world duly qualified. Thepredominant element, however, for a long time consisted of Cambridgemen. 

This society used to meet in a large room, fitted up as much like theHouse of Commons as possible, and which was in Freemason's Tavern, inGreat Queen Street. Some hundred and fifty members were present whenEndymion paid his first visit there, and the scene to Endymion was noveland deeply interesting. Though only a guest, he was permitted to sit inthe body of the chamber, by the side of Trenchard, who kindly gavehim some information, as the proceedings advanced, as to the principalpersonages who took part in them. 

The question to-night was, whether the decapitation of Charles the Firstwere a justifiable act, and the debate was opened in the affirmativeby a young man with a singularly sunny face and a voice of music. His statement was clear and calm. Though nothing could be moreuncompromising than his opinions, it seemed that nothing could be fairerthan his facts. 

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

The opening speech was seconded by a very young man, in a mostartificial style, remarkable for its superfluity of intended sarcasm, which was delivered in a highly elaborate tone, so that the speakerseemed severe without being keen. 

"'Tis the new Cambridge style, " whispered Trenchard, "but it will not godown here. "

The question having been launched, Spruce arose, a very neat speaker;a little too mechanical, but plausible. Endymion was astonished atthe dexterous turns in his own favour which he gave to many of thestatements of Hortensius, and how he mangled and massacred the seconder, who had made a mistake in a date. 

"He is the Tory leader, " said Trenchard. "There are not twenty Tories inour Union, but we always listen to him. He is sharp, Jawett will answerhim. "

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

"Always crotchety, " whispered Trenchard. 

Jawett thought the whole conception of the opening speech erroneous. Itproceeded on the assumption that the execution of Charles was the act ofthe people; on the contrary, it was an intrigue of Cromwell, who was theonly person who profited by it. 

Cromwell was vindicated and panegyrised in a flaming speech by Montreal, who took this opportunity of denouncing alike kings and bishops, Churchand State, with powerful invective, terminating his address by theexpression of an earnest hope that he might be spared to witness theinevitable Commonwealth of England. 

"He only lost his election for Rattleton by ten votes, " said Trenchard. "We call him the Lord Protector, and his friends here think he will beso. "

The debate was concluded, after another hour, by Hortensius, andEndymion was struck by the contrast between his first and secondmanner. Safe from reply, and reckless in his security, it is not easyto describe the audacity of his retorts, or the tumult of his eloquence. Rapid, sarcastic, humorous, picturesque, impassioned, he seemed to carryeverything before him, and to resemble his former self in nothingbut the music of his voice, which lent melody to scorn, and sometimesreached the depth of pathos. 

Endymion walked home with Mr. Trenchard, and in a musing mood. "Ishould not care how lazy I was, " said Endymion, "if I could speak likeHortensius. "

CHAPTER XXV

The snow was falling about the time when the Swindon coach, in whichEndymion was a passenger, was expected at Hurstley, and the snow hadbeen falling all day. Nothing had been more dreary than the outwardworld, or less entitled to the merry epithet which is the privilege ofthe season. The gardener had been despatched to the village inn, wherethe coach stopped, with a lantern and cloaks and umbrellas. Within thehouse the huge blocks of smouldering beech sent forth a hospitable heat, and, whenever there was a sound, Myra threw cones on the inflamed mass, that Endymion might be welcomed with a blaze. Mrs. Ferrars, who hadappeared to-day, though late, and had been very nervous and excited, broke down half an hour before her son could arrive, and, murmuring thatshe would reappear, had retired. Her husband was apparently reading, buthis eye wandered and his mind was absent from the volume. 

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

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

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

Three quarters of a year had elapsed since the twins had parted, andthey were at that period of life when such an interval often producesno slight changes in personal appearance. Endymion, always tall forhis years, had considerably grown; his air, and manner, and dress weredistinguished. But three quarters of a year had produced a still greatereffect upon his sister. He had left her a beautiful girl: her beauty wasnot less striking, but it was now the beauty of a woman. Her mien wasradiant but commanding, and her brow, always remarkable, was singularlyimpressive. 

They stood in animated converse before the fire, Endymion between hisfather and his sister and retaining of each a hand, when Mr. Ferrarsnodded to Myra and said, "I think now;" and Myra, not reluctantly, butnot with happy eagerness, left the room. 

"She is gone for your poor mother, " said Mr. Ferrars; "we are uneasyabout her, my dear boy. "

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

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

She took her brother's hand and led him away. "I go with you, to preventdreadful scenes, " said his sister on the staircase. "Try to behave justas in old times, and as if you saw no change. "

Myra went into the chamber first, to give to her mother, if possible, the keynote of the interview, and of which she had already furnished theprelude. "We are all so happy to see Endymion again, dear mamma. Papa isquite gay. "

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

He embraced her, but he could not believe it was his mother. A visage atonce haggard and bloated had supplanted that soft and rich countenancewhich had captivated so many. A robe concealed her attenuated frame;but the lustrous eyes were bleared and bloodshot, and the accents of thevoice, which used to be at once melodious and a little drawling, hoarse, harsh, and hurried. 

She never stopped talking; but it was all in one key, and that theprescribed one--her happiness at his arrival, the universal gaiety ithad produced, and the merry Christmas they were to keep. After atime she began to recur to the past, and to sigh; but instantly Myrainterfered with "You know, mamma, you are to dine downstairs to-day, and you will hardly have time to dress;" and she motioned to Endymion toretire. 

Mrs. Ferrars kept the dinner waiting a long time, and, when she enteredthe room, it was evident that she was painfully excited. She had a capon, and had used some rouge. 

"Endymion must take me in to dinner, " she hurriedly exclaimed as sheentered, and then grasped her son's arm. 

It seemed a happy and even a merry dinner, and yet there was somethingabout it forced and constrained. Mrs. Ferrars talked a great deal, andEndymion told them a great many anecdotes of those men and things whichmost interested them, and Myra seemed to be absorbed in his remarks andnarratives, and his mother would drink his health more than once, whensuddenly she went into hysterics, and all was anarchy. Mr. Ferrarslooked distressed and infinitely sad; and Myra, putting her arm roundher mother, and whispering words of calm or comfort, managed to lead herout of the room, and neither of them returned. 

"Poor creature!" said Mr. Ferrars, with a sigh. "Seeing you has been toomuch for her. "

The next morning Endymion and his sister paid a visit to the rectory, and there they met Nigel, who was passing his Christmas at home. Thiswas a happy meeting. The rector had written an essay on squirrels, andshowed them a glass containing that sportive little animal in all itsfrolic forms. Farmer Thornberry had ordered a path to be cleared onthe green from the hall to the rectory; and "that is all, " said Mrs. Penruddock, "we have to walk upon, except the high road. The snow hasdrifted to such a degree that it is impossible to get to the Chase. Iwent out the day before yesterday with Carlo as a guide. When I did notclearly make out my way, I sent him forward, and sometimes I could onlysee his black head emerging from the snow. So I had to retreat. "

Mrs. Ferrars did not appear this day. Endymion visited her in her room. He found her flighty and incoherent. She seemed to think that he hadreturned permanently to Hurstley, and said she never had any goodopinion of the scheme of his leaving them. If it had been the ForeignOffice, as was promised, and his father had been in the Cabinet, whichwas his right, it might have been all very well. But, if he were toleave home, he ought to have gone into the Guards, and it was not toolate. And then they might live in a small house in town, and look afterhim. There were small houses in Wilton Crescent, which would do verywell. Besides, she herself wanted change of air. Hurstley did not agreewith her. She had no appetite. She never was well except in London, orWimbledon. She wished that, as Endymion was here, he would speak to hisfather on the subject. She saw no reason why they should not live attheir place at Wimbledon as well as here. It was not so large a house, and, therefore, would not be so expensive. 

Endymion's holiday was only to last a week, and Myra seemed jealousof his sparing any portion of it to Nigel; yet the rector's son wassedulous in his endeavours to enjoy the society of his former companion. There seemed some reason for his calling at the hall every day. Mr. Ferrars broke through his habits, and invited Nigel to dine with them;and after dinner, saying that he would visit Mrs. Ferrars, who wasunwell, left them alone. It was the only time they had yet been alone. Endymion found that there was no change in the feelings and views ofNigel respecting Church matters, except that his sentiments and opinionswere more assured, and, if possible, more advanced. He would nottolerate any reference to the state of the nation; it was the state ofthe Church which engrossed his being. No government was endurable thatwas not divine. The Church was divine, and on that he took his stand. 

Nigel was to take his degree next term, and orders as soon as possible. He looked forward with confidence, after doubtless a period ofdisturbance, confusion, probably violence, and even anarchy, to theestablishment of an ecclesiastical polity that would be catholicthroughout the realm. Endymion just intimated the very contrary opinionsthat Jawett held upon these matters, and mentioned, though not as anadherent, some of the cosmopolitan sentiments of Waldershare. 

"The Church is cosmopolitan, " said Nigel; "the only practicable means bywhich you can attain to identity of motive and action. "

Then they rejoined Myra, but Nigel soon returned to the absorbing theme. His powers had much developed since he and Endymion used to wandertogether over Hurstley Chase. He had great eloquence, his views werestartling and commanding, and his expressions forcible and picturesque. All was heightened, too, by his striking personal appearance and thebeauty of his voice. He seemed something between a young prophet and aninquisitor; a remarkable blending of enthusiasm and self-control. 

A person more experienced in human nature than Endymion might haveobserved, that all this time, while Nigel was to all appearance chieflyaddressing himself to Endymion, he was, in fact, endeavouring to impresshis sister. Endymion knew, from the correspondence of Myra, that Nigelhad been, especially in the summer, much at Hurstley; and when he wasalone with his sister, he could not help remarking, "Nigel is as strongas ever in his views. "

"Yes, " she replied; "he is very clever and very good-looking. It is apity he is going into the Church. I do not like clergymen. "

On the third day of the visit, Mrs. Ferrars was announced to be unwell, and in the evening very unwell; and Mr. Ferrars sent to the nearestmedical man, and he was distant, to attend her. The medical man didnot arrive until past midnight, and, after visiting his patient, lookedgrave. She had fever, but of what character it was difficult to decide. The medical man had brought some remedies with him, and he stayedthe night at the hall. It was a night of anxiety and alarm, and thehousehold did not retire until nearly the break of dawn. 

The next day it seemed that the whole of the Penruddock family were inthe house. Mrs. Penruddock insisted on nursing Mrs. Ferrars, and herhusband looked as if he thought he might be wanted. It was unreasonablethat Nigel should be left alone. His presence, always pleasing, was arelief to an anxious family, and who were beginning to get alarmed. Thefever did not subside. On the contrary, it increased, and there wereother dangerous symptoms. There was a physician of fame at Oxford, whomNigel wished they would call in. Matters were too pressing to wait forthe posts, and too complicated to trust to an ordinary messenger. Nigel, who was always well mounted, was in his saddle in an instant. He seemedto be all resource, consolation, and energy: "If I am fortunate, he willbe here in four hours; at all events, I will not return alone. "

Four terrible hours were these: Mr. Ferrars, restless and sad, andlistening with a vacant air or an absent look to the kind and unceasingtalk of the rector; Myra, silent in her mother's chamber; and Endymion, wandering about alone with his eyes full of tears. This was the MerrieChristmas he had talked of, and this his long-looked-for holiday. Hecould think of nothing but his mother's kindness; and the days goneby, when she was so bright and happy, came back to him with painfulvividness. It seemed to him that he belonged to a doomed and unhappyfamily. Youth and its unconscious mood had hitherto driven this thoughtfrom his mind; but it occurred to him now, and would not be driven away. 

Nigel was fortunate. Before sunset he returned to Hurstley in apostchaise with the Oxford physician, whom he had furnished with an ableand accurate diagnosis of the case. All that art could devise, and allthat devotion could suggest, were lavished on the sufferer, but invain; and four days afterwards, the last day of Endymion's long-awaitedholiday, Mr. Ferrars closed for ever the eyes of that brilliant being, who, with some weaknesses, but many noble qualities, had shared with nounequal spirit the splendour and the adversity of his existence. 

CHAPTER XXVI

Nigel took a high degree and obtained first-class honours. He wasordained by the bishop of the diocese as soon after as possible. Hiscompanions, who looked up to him with every expectation of his eminenceand influence, were disappointed, however, in the course of life onwhich he decided. It was different from that which he had led them tosuppose it would be. They had counted on his becoming a resident lightof the University, filling its highest offices, and ultimately reachingthe loftiest stations in the Church. Instead of that he announced thathe had resolved to become a curate to his father, and that he was aboutto bury himself in the solitude of Hurstley. 

It was in the early summer following the death of Mrs. Ferrars that hesettled there. He was frequently at the hall, and became intimate withMr. Ferrars. Notwithstanding the difference of age, there was betweenthem a sympathy of knowledge and thought. In spite of his decided mind, Nigel listened to Mr. Ferrars with deference, soliciting his judgment, and hanging, as it were, on his accents of wise experience and refinedtaste. So Nigel became a favourite with Mr. Ferrars; for there are fewthings more flattering than the graceful submission of an accomplishedintellect, and, when accompanied by youth, the spell is sometimesfascinating. 

The death of his wife seemed to have been a great blow to Mr. Ferrars. The expression of his careworn, yet still handsome, countenance became, if possible, more saddened. It was with difficulty that his daughtercould induce him to take exercise, and he had lost altogether thatseeming interest in their outer world which once at least he affected tofeel. Myra, though ever content to be alone, had given up herself muchto her father since his great sorrow; but she felt that her efforts todistract him from his broodings were not eminently successful, andshe hailed with a feeling of relief the establishment of Nigel in theparish, and the consequent intimacy that arose between him and herfather. 

Nigel and Myra were necessarily under these circumstances thrown muchtogether. As time advanced he passed his evenings generally at the hall, for he was a proficient in the only game which interested Mr. Ferrars, and that was chess. Reading and writing all day, Mr. Ferrars requiredsome remission of attention, and his relaxation was chess. Before thegames, and between the games, and during delightful tea-time, and forthe happy quarter of an hour which ensued when the chief employment ofthe evening ceased, Nigel appealed much to Myra, and endeavoured to drawout her mind and feelings. He lent her books, and books that favoured, indirectly at least, his own peculiar views--volumes of divine poesythat had none of the twang of psalmody, tales of tender and sometimeswild and brilliant fancy, but ever full of symbolic truth. 

Chess-playing requires complete abstraction, and Nigel, though he wasa double first, occasionally lost a game from a lapse in that condensedattention that secures triumph. The fact is, he was too frequentlythinking of something else besides the moves on the board, and his earwas engaged while his eye wandered, if Myra chanced to rise from herseat or make the slightest observation. 

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

There was a glade at Hurstley, bounded on each side with masses ofyew, their dark green forms now studded with crimson berries. Myra waswalking one morning in this glade when she met Nigel, who was on one ofhis daily pilgrimages, and he turned round and walked by her side. 

"I am sure I cannot give you news of your brother, " he said, "but I havehad a letter this morning from Endymion. He seems to take great interestin his debating club. "

"I am so glad he has become a member of it, " said Myra. "That kind Mr. Trenchard, whom I shall never see to thank him for all his goodness toEndymion, proposed him. It occupies his evenings twice a week, and thenit gives him subjects to think of and read up in the interval. "

"Yes; it is a good thing, " said Nigel moodily; "and if he is destinedfor public life, which perhaps he may be, no contemptible discipline. "

"Dear boy!" said Myra, with a sigh. "I do not see what public life he isdestined to, except slaving at a desk. But sometimes one has dreams. "

"Yes; we all have dreams, " said Nigel, with an air of abstraction. 

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

"Delightful, doubtless, with a sympathising companion. "

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

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

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

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

Myra looked at him with something of a stare; but he continued--

"All seasons would be to me fascination, were I only by your side. Yes;I can no longer repress the irresistible confusion of my love. I amhere, and I am here only, because I love you. I quitted Oxford andall its pride that I might have the occasional delight of being yourcompanion. I was not presumptuous in my thoughts, and believed thatwould content me; but I can no longer resist the consummate spell, and Ioffer you my heart and my life. "

"I am amazed; I am a little overwhelmed, " said Myra. "Pardon me, dearMr. Penruddock--dear Nigel--you speak of things of which I have notthought. "

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

"We are a fallen family, " said Myra, "perhaps a doomed one. We are notpeople to connect yourself with. You have witnessed some of our sorrows, and soothed them. I shall be ever grateful to you for the past. But Isometimes feel our cup is not yet full, and I have long resolved to bearmy cross alone. But, irrespective of all other considerations, I cannever leave my father. "

"I have spoken to your father, " said Nigel, "and he approved my suit. "

"While my father lives I shall not quit him, " said Myra; "but, let menot mislead you, I do not live for my father--I live for another. "

"For another?" inquired Nigel, with anxiety. 

"For one you know. My life is devoted to Endymion. There is a mysticbond between us, originating, perhaps, in the circumstance of our birth;for we are twins. I never mean to embarrass him with a sister's love, and perhaps hereafter may see less of him even than I see now; but Ishall be in the world, whatever be my lot, high or low--the active, stirring world--working for him, thinking only of him. Yes; mouldingevents and circumstances in his favour;" and she spoke with fieryanimation. "I have brought myself, by long meditation, to the convictionthat a human being with a settled purpose must accomplish it, andthat nothing can resist a will that will stake even existence for itsfulfilment. "

CHAPTER XXVII

Endymion had returned to his labours, after the death of his mother, much dispirited. Though young and hopeful, his tender heart could not beinsensible to the tragic end. There is anguish in the recollection thatwe have not adequately appreciated the affection of those whom we haveloved and lost. It tortured him to feel that he had often accepted withcarelessness or indifference the homage of a heart that had been to himever faithful in its multiplied devotion. Then, though he was not of amelancholy and brooding nature, in this moment of bereavement he couldnot drive from his mind the consciousness that there had long beenhanging over his home a dark lot, as it were, of progressive adversity. His family seemed always sinking, and he felt conscious how the sanguinespirit of his mother had sustained them in their trials. His father hadalready made him the depositary of his hopeless cares; and if anythinghappened to that father, old and worn out before his time, what wouldbecome of Myra?

Nigel, who in their great calamity seemed to have thought of everything, and to have done everything, had written to the chief of his office, andalso to Mr. Trenchard, explaining the cause of the absence of Endymionfrom his duties. There were no explanations, therefore, necessary whenhe reappeared; no complaints, but only sympathy and general kindness. In Warwick Street there was unaffected sorrow; Sylvia wept and went intothe prettiest mourning for her patroness, and Mr. Rodney wore a crapeon his hat. "I never saw her, " said Imogene, "but I am told she washeavenly. "

Waldershare was very kind to Endymion, and used to take him to the Houseof Commons on interesting evenings, and, if he succeeded in gettingEndymion a place under the gallery, would come and talk to him in thecourse of the night, and sometimes introduce him to the mysteries ofBellamy's, where Endymion had the satisfaction of partaking of a steakin the presence of statesmen and senators. 

"You are in the precincts of public life, " said Waldershare; "and if youever enter it, which I think you will, " he would add thoughtfully, "it will be interesting for you to remember that you have seen thesecharacters, many of whom will then have passed away. Like the shades ofa magic lantern, " he added, with something between a sigh and a smile. "One of my constituents send me a homily this morning, the burthenof which was, I never thought of death. The idiot! I never think ofanything else. It is my weakness. One should never think of death. Oneshould think of life. That is real piety. "

This spring and summer were passed tranquilly by Endymion, but notunprofitably. He never went to any place of public amusement, and, cherishing his sorrow, declined those slight openings to social lifewhich occasionally offered themselves even to him; but he attended hisdebating club with regularity, and, though silent, studied every subjectwhich was brought before it. It interested him to compare their sayingsand doings with those of the House of Commons, and he found advantage inthe critical comparison. Though not in what is styled society, hismind did not rust from the want of intelligent companions. The clearperception, accurate knowledge, and unerring judgment of Trenchard, thefantastic cynicism of St. Barbe, and all the stores of the exuberantand imaginative Waldershare, were brought to bear on a young and plasticintelligence, gifted with a quick though not a too profound sensibilitywhich soon ripened into tact, and which, after due discrimination, wastenacious of beneficial impressions. 

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

Nearly two years' acquaintance, however limited, with the world, had already exercised a ripening influence over Endymion. Nigel soonperceived this, though, with a native tact which circumstances haddeveloped, Endymion avoided obtruding his new conclusions upon hisformer instructor. But that deep and eager spirit, unwilling ever to leta votary escape, and absorbed intellectually by one vast idea, would notbe baffled. Nigel had not renounced the early view of Endymion takingorders, and spoke of his London life as an incident which, with hisyouth, he might in time only look upon as an episode in his existence. 

"I trust I shall ever be a devoted son of the Church, " said Endymion;"but I confess I feel no predisposition to take orders, even if I hadthe opportunity, which probably I never shall have. If I were to choosemy career it would be public life. I am on the last step of the ladder, and I do not suppose that I can ever be anything but a drudge. But eventhat would interest me. It brings one in contact with those who areplaying the great game. One at least fancies one comprehends somethingof the government of mankind. Mr. Waldershare takes me often to theHouse of Commons, and I must say, I am passionately fond of it. "

After Endymion's return to London that scene occurred between Nigel andMyra, in the glade at Hurstley, which we have noticed in the precedingchapter. In the evening of that day Nigel did not pay his accustomedvisit to the hall, and the father and the daughter were alone. Then itwas, notwithstanding evident agitation, and even with some degree ofsolemnity, that Mr. Ferrars broke to his daughter that there was asubject on which he wished seriously to confer with her. 

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

"It is about Nigel. "

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

"And what have you replied?"

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

"Your union would give me life and hope, " said Mr. Ferrars; and then, as she remained silent, he continued after a pause: "For its happinessthere seems every security. He is of good family, and with adequatemeans, and, I firmly believe, no inconsiderable future. His abilitiesare already recognised; his disposition is noble. As for his personalqualities, you are a better judge than I am; but, for my part, I neversaw a countenance that more became the beauty and nobility of hischaracter. "

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

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

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

"But, my daughter, my dearest daughter, " said Mr. Ferrars, "bear withthe anxiety of a parent who is at least devoted to you. Our separationwould be my last and severest sorrow, and I have had many; but there isno necessity to consider that case, for Nigel is content, is more thancontent, to live as your husband under this roof. "

"So he told me. "

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

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

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

"And yet I believe most marriages are unhappy, " said Myra. 

"Oh! if your objection to marry Nigel arises from an abstract objectionto marriage itself, " said Mr. Ferrars, "it is a subject which we mighttalk over calmly, and perhaps remove your prejudices. "

"I have no objection against marriage, " rejoined Myra. "It is likelyenough that I may marry some day, and probably make an unhappy marriage;but that is not the question before us. It is whether I should marryNigel. That cannot be, my dear father, and he knows it. I have assuredhim so in a manner which cannot be mistaken. "

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

"So I have long felt, " said Myra. "I can bear our lot; but I want nostrangers to be introduced to share its bitterness, and soothe us withtheir sympathy. "

"You speak like a girl, " said Mr. Ferrars, "and a headstrong girl, whichyou always have been. You know not what you are talking about. It is amatter of life or death. Your decorous marriage would have saved us fromabsolute ruin. "

"Alone, I can meet absolute ruin, " said Myra. "I have long contemplatedsuch a contingency, and am prepared for it. My marriage with Nigel couldhardly save you, sir, from such a visitation, if it be impending. ButI trust in that respect, if in no other, you have used a little ofthe language of exaggeration. I have never received, and I have neverpresumed to seek, any knowledge of your affairs; but I have assumed, that for your life, somehow or other, you would be permitted to existwithout disgrace. If I survive you, I have neither care nor fear. "

CHAPTER XXVIII

In the following spring a vexatious incident occurred in Warwick Street. The highly-considered county member, who was the yearly tenant of Mr. Rodney's first floor, and had been always a valuable patron, suddenlydied. An adjourned debate, a tough beefsteak, a select committee stillharder, and an influenza caught at three o'clock in the morning in animprudent but irresistible walk home with a confidential Lord of theTreasury, had combined very sensibly to affect the income of Mr. Rodney. At first he was sanguine that such a desirable dwelling would soon finda suitable inhabitant, especially as Mr. Waldershare assured him that hewould mention the matter to all his friends. But time rolled on, and therooms were still vacant; and the fastidious Rodneys, who at first wouldonly listen to a yearly tenant, began to reduce their expectations. Matters had arrived at such a pass in May, that, for the first time intheir experience, they actually condescended to hoist an announcement offurnished apartments. 

In this state of affairs a cab rattled up to the house one morning, outof which a young gentleman jumped briskly, and, knocking at thedoor, asked, of the servant who opened it, whether he might see theapartments. He was a young man, apparently not more than one or two andtwenty, of a graceful figure, somewhat above the middle height, fair, with a countenance not absolutely regular, but calm and high-bred. Hisdress was in the best taste, but to a practised eye had something of aforeign cut, and he wore a slight moustache. 

"The rooms will suit me, " he said, "and I have no doubt the price youask for them is a just one;" and he bowed with high-bred courtesy toSylvia, who was now in attendance on him, and who stood with her prettyhands in the pretty pockets of her pretty apron. 

"I am glad to hear that, " said Sylvia. "We have never let them before, except to a yearly tenant. "

"And if we suit each other, " said the gentleman, "I should have no greatobjection to becoming such. "

"In these matters, " said Sylvia, after a little hesitation, "we give andreceive references. Mr. Rodney is well known in this neighbourhood andin Westminster generally; but I dare say, " she adroitly added, "he hasmany acquaintances known to you, sir. "

"Not very likely, " replied the young gentleman; "for I am a foreigner, and only arrived in England this morning;" though he spoke Englishwithout the slightest accent. 

Sylvia looked a little perplexed; but he continued: "It is quite justthat you should be assured to whom you are letting your lodgings. Theonly reference I can give you is to my banker, but he is almost toogreat a man for such matters. Perhaps, " he added, pulling out a casefrom his breast pocket, and taking out of it a note, which he handed toSylvia, "this may assure you that your rent will be paid. "

Sylvia took a rapid glance at the hundred-pound-note, and twisting itinto her little pocket with apparent _sangfroid_, though she held itwith a tight grasp, murmured that it was quite unnecessary, and thenoffered to give her new lodger an acknowledgment of it. 

"That is really unnecessary, " he replied. "Your appearance commands fromme that entire confidence which on your part you very properly refuse toa stranger and a foreigner like myself. "

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

"Now, " continued the young gentleman, "I will return to the station torelease my servant, who is a prisoner there with my luggage. Be pleasedto make him at home. I shall myself not return probably till theevening; and in the meantime, " he added, giving Sylvia his card, "youwill admit anything that arrives here addressed to Colonel Albert. "

The settlement of Colonel Albert in Warwick Street was an event ofno slight importance. It superseded for a time all other topics ofconversation, and was discussed at length in the evenings, especiallywith Mr. Vigo. Who was he? And in what service was he colonel? Mr. Rodney, like a man of the world, assumed that all necessary informationwould in time be obtained from the colonel's servant; but even men ofthe world sometimes miscalculate. The servant, who was a Belgian, hadonly been engaged by the colonel at Brussels a few days before hisdeparture for England, and absolutely knew nothing of his master, exceptthat he was a gentleman with plenty of money and sufficient luggage. Sylvia, who was the only person who had seen the colonel, was stronglyin his favour. Mr. Rodney looked doubtful, and avoided any definiteopinion until he had had the advantage of an interview with his newlodger. But this was not easy to obtain. Colonel Albert had no wishto see the master of the house, and, if he ever had that desire, hisservant would accordingly communicate it in the proper quarter. Atpresent he was satisfied with all the arrangements, and wished neitherto make nor to receive remarks. The habits of the new lodger weresomewhat of a recluse. He was generally engaged in his rooms the wholeday, and seldom left them till the evening, and nobody, as yet, hadcalled upon him. Under these circumstances, Imogene was instructedto open the matter to Mr. Waldershare when she presided over hisbreakfast-table; and that gentleman said he would make inquiries aboutthe colonel at the Travellers' Club, where Waldershare passed a greatdeal of his time. "If he be anybody, " said Mr. Waldershare, "he is surein time to be known there, for he will be introduced as a visitor. " Atpresent, however, it turned out that the "Travellers'" knew nothing ofColonel Albert; and time went on, and Colonel Albert was not introducedas a visitor there. 

After a little while there was a change in the habits of the colonel. One morning, about noon, a groom, extremely well appointed, and havingunder his charge a couple of steeds of breed and beauty, called atWarwick Street, and the colonel rode out, and was long absent, and afterthat, every day, and generally at the same hour, mounted his horse. Mr. Rodney was never wearied of catching a glimpse of his distinguishedlodger over the blinds of the ground-floor room, and of admiring thecolonel's commanding presence in his saddle, distinguished as his seatwas alike by its grace and vigour. 

In the course of a little time, another incident connected with thecolonel occurred which attracted notice and excited interest. Towardsthe evening a brougham, marked, but quietly, with a foreign coronet, stopped frequently at Mr. Rodney's house, and a visitor to the colonelappeared in the form of a middle-aged gentleman who never gave his name, and evaded, it seemed with practised dexterity, every effort, howeveradroit, to obtain it. The valet was tried on this head also, and repliedwith simplicity that he did not know the gentleman's name, but he wasalways called the Baron. 

In the middle of June a packet arrived one day by the coach, from therector of Hurstley, addressed to Endymion, announcing his father'sdangerous illness, and requesting him instantly to repair home. Myra wastoo much occupied to write even a line. 

CHAPTER XXIX

It was strange that Myra did not write, were it only a line. It was sounlike her. How often this occurred to Endymion during his wearisome andanxious travel! When the coach reached Hurstley, he found Mr. Penruddockwaiting for him. Before he could inquire after his father, thatgentleman said, "Myra is at the rectory; you are to come on there. "

"And my father?"----

"Matters are critical, " said Mr. Penruddock, as it were avoiding adirect answer, and hastening his pace. 

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

The rector closed the door with care, and looked distressed; and, beckoning to Endymion to be seated, he said, while still standing andhalf turning away his head, "My dear boy, prepare yourself for theworst. "

"Ah! he is gone then! my dear, dear father!" and Endymion burst intopassionate tears, and leant on the table, his face hid in his hands. 

The rector walked up and down the room with an agitated countenance. Hecould not deny, it would seem, the inference of Endymion; and yet he didnot proffer those consolations which might be urged, and which it becameone in his capacity peculiarly to urge. 

"I must see Myra, " said Endymion eagerly, looking up with a wild air andstreaming eyes. 

"Not yet, " said the rector; "she is much disturbed. Your poor father isno more; it is too true; but, " and here the rector hesitated, "he didnot die happily. "

"What do you mean?" said Endymion. 

"Your poor father had much to try him, " said the rector. "His life, since he was amongst us here, was a life, for him, of adversity--perhapsof great adversity--yet he bore up against it with a Christian spirit;he never repined. There was much that was noble and exalted in hischaracter. But he never overcame the loss of your dear mother. He wasnever himself afterwards. He was not always master of himself. I couldbear witness to that, " said the rector, talking, as it were, to himself. "Yes; I could conscientiously give evidence to that effect"----

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

"I could show, " said the rector, speaking slowly, and in a low voice, "and others could show, that he was not master of himself when hecommitted the rash act. "

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

"That a great sorrow has come upon you, and your sister, and all of us, "said Mr. Penruddock; "and you, and she, and all of us must bow beforethe Divine will in trembling, though in hope. Your father's death wasnot natural. "

Such was the end of William Pitt Ferrars, on whom nature, opportunity, and culture appeared to have showered every advantage. His abilitieswere considerable, his ambition greater. Though intensely worldly, hewas not devoid of affections. He found refuge in suicide, as many do, from want of imagination. The present was too hard for him, and hisfuture was only a chaotic nebula. 

Endymion did not see his sister that evening. She was not made awareof his arrival, and was alone with Mrs. Penruddock, who never left hernight or day. The rector took charge of her brother, and had a sofa-bedmade for him in the kind man's room. He was never to be alone. Neverthe whole night did Endymion close his eyes; and he was almost as muchagitated about the impending interview with Myra, as about the darkevent of terror that had been disclosed to him. 

Yet that dreaded interview must take place; and, about noon, the rectortold him that Myra was in the drawing-room alone, and would receive him. He tottered as he crossed the hall; grief and physical exhaustion hadunmanned him; his eyes were streaming with tears; he paused for a momentwith his hand upon the door; he dreaded the anguish of her countenance. 

She advanced and embraced him with tenderness; her face was grave, andnot a tear even glistened. 

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

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

"Yes; he was dear to us, and we were dear to him, " said Myra; "but thecurtain has fallen. We have to exert ourselves. Energy and self-controlwere never more necessary to two human beings than to us. Here are hiskeys; his papers must be examined by no one but ourselves. There is aterrible ceremony taking place, or impending. When it is all over, wemust visit the hall at least once more. "

The whole neighbourhood was full of sorrow for the event, and ofsympathy for those bereft. It was universally agreed that Mr. Ferrarshad never recovered the death of his wife; had never been the same manafter it; had become distrait, absent, wandering in his mind, and thevictim of an invincible melancholy. Several instances were given of hisinability to manage his affairs. The jury, with Farmer Thornberry forforeman, hesitated not in giving a becoming verdict. In those daysinformation travelled slowly. There were no railroads then, and notelegraphs, and not many clubs. A week elapsed before the sad occurrencewas chronicled in a provincial paper, and another week before the reportwas reproduced in London, and then in an obscure corner of the journal, and in small print. Everything gets about at last, and the world beganto stare and talk; but it passed unnoticed to the sufferers, except bya letter from Zenobia, received at Hurstley after Myra had departed fromher kind friends. Zenobia was shocked, nay, overwhelmed, by what she hadheard; wanted to know if she could be of use; offered to do anything;begged Myra to come and stay with her in St. James' Square; and assuredher that, if that were not convenient, when her mourning was overZenobia would present her at court, just the same as if she were her owndaughter. 

When the fatal keys were used, and the papers of Mr. Ferrars examined, it turned out worse than even Myra, in her darkest prescience, hadanticipated. Her father had died absolutely penniless. As executor ofhis father, the funds settled on his wife had remained under his solecontrol, and they had entirely disappeared. There was a letter addressedto Myra on this subject. She read it with a pale face, said nothing, and without showing it to Endymion, destroyed it. There was to be animmediate sale of their effects at the hall. It was calculated that theexpenses of the funeral and all the country bills might be defrayed byits proceeds. 

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

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

"That would ensure our common ruin, " said Myra. "No; I will neverembarrass you with a sister. You can only just subsist; for you couldnot well live in a garret, except at the Rodneys'. I see my way, " saidMyra; "I have long meditated over this--I can draw, I can sing, I canspeak many tongues: I ought to be able to get food and clothing; I mayget something more. And I shall always be content; for I shall always bethinking of you. However humble even my lot, if my will is concentratedon one purpose, it must ultimately effect it. That is my creed, " shesaid, "and I hold it fervently. I will stay with these dear people fora little while. They are not exactly the family on which I ought totrespass. But never mind. You will be a great man some day, Endymion, and you will remember the good Penruddocks. "

CHAPTER XXX

One of the most remarkable families that have ever flourished in Englandwere the NEUCHATELS. Their founder was a Swiss, who had establisheda banking house of high repute in England in the latter part of theeighteenth century, and, irrespective of a powerful domestic connection, had in time pretty well engrossed the largest and best portion offoreign banking business. When the great French Revolution occurred, all the emigrants deposited their jewels and their treasure with theNeuchatels. As the disturbance spread, their example was followed bythe alarmed proprietors and capitalists of the rest of Europe; and, independently of their own considerable means, the Neuchatels thus hadthe command for a quarter of a century, more or less, of adventitiousmillions. They were scrupulous and faithful stewards, but they weredoubtless repaid for their vigilance, their anxiety, and often theirrisk, by the opportunities which these rare resources permitted them toenjoy. One of the Neuchatels was a favourite of Mr. Pitt, and assistedthe great statesman in his vast financial arrangements. This Neuchatelwas a man of large capacity, and thoroughly understood his period. The minister wished to introduce him to public life, would have openedParliament to him, and no doubt have showered upon him honours andtitles. But Neuchatel declined these overtures. He was one of thosestrong minds who will concentrate their energies on one object; withoutpersonal vanity, but with a deep-seated pride in the future. He wasalways preparing for his posterity. Governed by this passion, althoughhe himself would have been content to live for ever in BishopsgateStreet, where he was born, he had become possessed of a vastprincipality, and which, strange to say, with every advantage ofsplendour and natural beauty, was not an hour's drive from Whitechapel. 

HAINAULT HOUSE had been raised by a British peer in the days when nobleswere fond of building Palladian palaces. It was a chief work of SirWilliam Chambers, and in its style, its beauty, and almost in itsdimensions, was a rival of Stowe or Wanstead. It stood in a deer park, and was surrounded by a royal forest. The family that had raised it woreout in the earlier part of this century. It was supposed that the placemust be destroyed and dismantled. It was too vast for a citizen, and thelocality was no longer sufficiently refined for a conscript father. In this dilemma, Neuchatel stepped in and purchased the wholeaffair--palace, and park, and deer, and pictures, and halls, andgalleries of statue and bust, and furniture, and even wines, and all thefarms that remained, and all the seigneurial rights in the royal forest. But he never lived there. Though he spared nothing in the maintenanceand the improvement of the domain, except on a Sunday he never visitedit, and was never known to sleep under its roof. "It will be ready forthose who come after me, " he would remark, with a modest smile. 

Those who came after him were two sons, between whom his millions weredivided; and Adrian, the eldest, in addition to his share, was made thelord of Hainault. Adrian had inherited something more, and somethingmore precious, than his father's treasure--a not inferior capacity, united, in his case, with much culture, and with a worldly ambition towhich his father was a stranger. So long as that father lived, Adrianhad been extremely circumspect. He seemed only devoted to business, andto model his conduct on that of his eminent sire. That father who hadrecognised with pride and satisfaction his capacity, and who was withoutjealousy, had initiated his son during his lifetime in all the secretsof his wondrous craft, and had entrusted him with a leading part intheir affairs. Adrian had waited in Downing Street on Lord Liverpool, ashis father years before had waited on Mr. Pitt. 

The elder Neuchatel departed this life a little before the second FrenchRevolution of 1830, which had been so fatal to Mr. Ferrars. Adrian, whohad never committed himself in politics, further than sitting a shorttime for a reputed Tory borough, for which he paid a rent of a thousanda year to the proprietor, but who was known to have been nurtured in theschool of Pitt and Wellington, astonished the world by voting for LordGrey's Reform Bill, and announcing himself as a Liberal. This was alarge fish for the new Liberal Treasury to capture; their triumph wasgreat, and they determined to show that they appreciated the power andthe influence of their new ally. At the dissolution of 1831, AdrianNeuchatel was a candidate for a popular constituency, and was electedat the head of the poll. His brother, Melchior, was also returned, anda nephew. The Liberals were alarmed by a subscription of fabulousdimensions said to have been collected by the Tories to influence theGeneral Election; and the undoubted contribution of a noble duke wasparticularly mentioned, which alone appalled the heart of Brooks'. Thematter was put before Neuchatel, as he entered the club, to which hehad been recently elected with acclamation. "So you are a littlefrightened, " he said, with a peculiarly witching smile which he had, half mockery and half good nature; as much as to say, "I will do whatyou wish, but I see through you and everybody else. " "So you are alittle frightened. Well; we City men must see what we can do against thedukes. You may put me down for double his amount. "

Adrian purchased a very fine mansion in Portland Place, and took up hisresidence formally at Hainault. He delighted in the place, and to dwellthere in a manner becoming the scene had always been one of his dreams. Now he lived there with unbounded expenditure. He was passionately fondof horses, and even in his father's lifetime had run some at Newmarketin another name. The stables at Hainault had been modelled on those atChantilly, and were almost as splendid a pile as the mansion itself. They were soon full, and of first-rate animals in their different ways. With his choice teams Adrian could reach Bishopsgate from Hainault, particularly if there were no stoppages in Whitechapel, in much under anhour. 

If he had fifty persons in his stables, there were certainly as many inhis park and gardens. These latter were most elaborate. It seemed therewas nothing that Hainault could not produce: all the fruits and flowersof the tropics. The conservatories and forcing-houses looked, in thedistance, like a city of glass. But, after all, the portion of thisimmense establishment which was most renowned, and perhaps, on thewhole, best appreciated, was the establishment of the kitchen. The chefwas the greatest celebrity of Europe; and he had no limit to his staff, which he had selected with the utmost scrutiny, maintained with becomingspirit, and winnowed with unceasing vigilance. Every day at Hainaultwas a banquet. What delighted Adrian was to bring down without notice atroop of friends, conscious they would be received as well as if therehad been a preparation of weeks. Sometimes it was a body from the StockExchange, sometimes a host from the House of Commons, sometimes a boardof directors with whom he had been transacting business in the morning. It delighted Adrian to see them quaffing his burgundy, and stuffing downhis truffles, and his choice pies from Strasbourg, and all the delicatedishes which many of them looked at with wonder, and tasted withtimidity. And then he would, with his particular smile, say to a brotherbank director, whose mouth was full, and who could only answer him withhis eyes, "Business gives one an appetite; eh, Mr. Trodgits?"

Sunday was always a great day at Hainault. The Royal and the StockExchanges were both of them always fully represented; and then theyoften had an opportunity, which they highly appreciated, of seeing andconferring with some public characters, M. P. 's of note or promise, andoccasionally a secretary of the Treasury, or a privy councillor. "Turtlemakes all men equal, " Adrian would observe. "Our friend Trodgits seemeda little embarrassed at first, when I introduced him to the RightHonourable; but when they sate next each other at dinner, they soon goton very well. "

On Sunday the guests walked about and amused themselves. No one wasallowed to ride or drive; Mrs. Neuchatel did not like riding and drivingon Sundays. "I see no harm in it, " said Adrian, "but I like women tohave their way about religion. And you may go to the stables and seethe horses, and that might take up the morning. And then there arethe houses; they will amuse you. For my part, I am for a stroll inthe forest;" and then he would lead his companions, after a delightfulramble, to some spot of agrestic charm, and, looking at it with delight, would say, "Pretty, is it not? But then they say this place is notfashionable. It will do, I think, for us City men. "

Adrian had married, when very young, a lady selected by his father. The selection seemed a good one. She was the daughter of a most eminentbanker, and had herself, though that was of slight importance, a largeportion. She was a woman of abilities, highly cultivated. Nothing hadever been spared that she should possess every possible accomplishment, and acquire every information and grace that it was desirable to attain. She was a linguist, a fine musician, no mean artist; and she threw out, if she willed it, the treasures of her well-stored and not unimaginativemind with ease and sometimes eloquence. Her person, without beingabsolutely beautiful, was interesting. There was even a degree offascination in her brown velvet eyes. And yet Mrs. Neuchatel was not acontented spirit; and though she appreciated the great qualities of herhusband, and viewed him even with reverence as well as affection, shescarcely contributed to his happiness as much as became her. And forthis reason. Whether it were the result of physical organisation, orwhether it were the satiety which was the consequence of having beenborn, and bred, and lived for ever, in a society of which wealth was theprime object of existence, and practically the test of excellence, Mrs. Neuchatel had imbibed not merely a contempt for money, but absolutelya hatred of it. The prosperity of her house depressed her. The stableswith their fifty grooms, and the grounds with their fifty gardeners, and the daily visit of the head cook to pass the bill of fare, wereincidents and circumstances that made her melancholy. She looked uponthe Stock Exchange coming down to dinner as she would on an invasionof the Visigoths, and endured the stiff observations or the cumbrousliveliness of the merchants and bank directors with gloomy grace. Something less material might be anticipated from the members ofParliament. But whether they thought it would please the genius of theplace, or whether Adrian selected his friends from those who sympathisedwith his pursuits, the members of Parliament seemed wonderfully toaccord with the general tone of the conversation, or varied it only byindulging in technical talk of their own. Sometimes she would make adesperate effort to change the elements of their society; something inthis way: "I see M. Arago and M. Mignet have arrived here, Adrian. Donot you think we ought to invite them here? And then you might ask Mr. Macaulay to meet them. You said you wished to ask Mr. Macaulay. "

In one respect the alliance between Adrian and his wife was not anunfortunate one. A woman, and a woman of abilities, fastidious, andinclined to be querulous, might safely be counted on as, in general, ensuring for both parties in their union an unsatisfactory and unhappylife. But Adrian, though kind, generous, and indulgent, was so absorbedby his own great affairs, was a man at the same time of so serene atemper and so supreme a will, that the over-refined fantasies of hiswife produced not the slightest effect on the course of his life. AdrianNeuchatel was what very few people are--master in his own house. Witha rich varnish of graciousness and favour, he never swerved from hispurpose; and, though willing to effect all things by smiles and sweettemper, he had none of that morbid sensibility which allows some mento fret over a phrase, to be tortured by a sigh, or to be subdued by atear. 

There had been born of this marriage only one child, the greatestheiress in England. She had been christened after her father, ADRIANA. She was now about seventeen; and, had she not been endowed with thefinest disposition and the sweetest temper in the world, she must havebeen spoiled, for both her parents idolised her. To see her every daywas for Adrian a reward for all his labours, and in the midst of hisgreatest affairs he would always snatch a moment to think how he couldcontribute to her pleasure or her happiness. All that was rare anddelightful and beautiful in the world was at her command. There wasno limit to the gratification of her wishes. But, alas! this favouredmaiden wished for nothing. Her books interested her, and a beautifulnature; but she liked to be alone, or with her mother. She was impressedwith the horrible and humiliating conviction, that she was courted andadmired only for her wealth. 

"What my daughter requires, " said Adrian, as he mused over thesedomestic contrarieties, "is a companion of her own age. Her mother isthe very worst constant companion she could have. She requires somebodywith charm, and yet of a commanding mind; with youthful sympathy, andyet influencing her in the right way. It must be a person of birth andbreeding and complete self-respect. I do not want to have any parasitesin my house, or affected fine ladies. That would do no good. What I dowant is a thing very difficult to procure. And yet they say everythingis to be obtained. At least, I have always thought so, and found it so. I have the greatest opinion of an advertisement in the 'Times. ' Igot some of my best clerks by advertisements in the 'Times. ' If I hadconsulted friends, there would have been no end of jobbing for suchpatronage. One could not trust, in such matters, one's own brother. Iwill draw up an advertisement and insert it in the 'Times, ' and havethe references to my counting-house. I will think over the wording as I drive to town. " This was the wording:--ADVERTISEMENT

 A Banker and his Wife require a Companion for their only child, a young lady whose accomplishments and acquirements are already considerable. The friend that they would wish for her must be of about the same age as herself, and in every other respect their lots will be the same. The person thus desired will be received and treated as a daughter of the house, will be allowed her own suite of apartments, her own servants and equipage. She must be a person of birth, breeding, and entire self-respect; with a mind and experience capable of directing conduct, and with manners which will engage sympathy. --Apply to H. H. , 45 Bishopsgate Street Within. 

This advertisement met the eye of Myra at Hurstley Rectory about amonth after her father's death, and she resolved to answer it. Herreply pleased Mr. Neuchatel. He selected it out of hundreds, and placedhimself in communication with Mr. Penruddock. The result was, that MissFerrars was to pay a visit to the Neuchatels; and if, on experience, they liked each other, the engagement was to take place. 

In the meantime the good rector of Hurstley arrived on the previousevening with his precious charge at Hainault House; and was rewarded forhis kind exertions, not only by the prospect of assisting Myra, but bysome present experience of a splendid and unusual scene. 

CHAPTER XXXI

"What do you think of her, mamma?" said Adriana, with glistening eyes, as she ran into Mrs. Neuchatel's dressing-room for a moment beforedinner. 

"I think her manners are perfect, " replied Mrs. Neuchatel; "and as therecan be no doubt, after all we have heard, of her principles, I think weare most fortunate. But what do you think of her, Adriana? For, afterall, that is the main question. "

"I think she is divine, " said Adriana; "but I fear she has no heart. "

"And why? Surely it is early to decide on such a matter as that!"

"When I took her to her room, " said Adriana, "I suppose I was nervous;but I burst into tears, and threw my arms round her neck and embracedher, but she did not respond. She touched my forehead with her lips, andwithdrew from my embrace. "

"She wished, perhaps, to teach you to control your emotions, " said Mrs. Neuchatel. "You have known her only an hour, and you could not have donemore to your own mother. "

It had been arranged that there should be no visitors to-day; only anephew and a foreign consul-general, just to break the formality of themeeting. Mr. Neuchatel placed Myra next to himself at the round table, and treated her with marked consideration--cordial but courteous, andeasy, with a certain degree of deference. His wife, who piqued herselfon her perception of character, threw her brown velvet eyes on herneighbour, Mr. Penruddock, and cross-examined him in mystical whispers. She soon recognised his love of nature; and this allowed her to disserton the subject, at once sublime and inexhaustible, with copiousnessworthy of the theme. When she found he was an entomologist, and that itwas not so much mountains as insects which interested him, she shiftedher ground, but treated it with equal felicity. Strange, but nature isnever so powerful as in insect life. The white ant can destroy fleetsand cities, and the locusts erase a province. And then, how beneficentthey are! Man would find it difficult to rival their exploits: the bee, that gives us honey; the worm, that gives us silk; the cochineal, thatsupplies our manufactures with their most brilliant dye. 

Mr. Penruddock did not seem to know much about manufactures, but alwaysrecommended his cottagers to keep bees. 

"The lime-tree abounds in our village, and there is nothing the beeslove more than its blossoms. "

This direct reference to his village led Mrs. Neuchatel to an inquiry asto the state of the poor about Hurstley, and she made the inquiry in atone of commiseration. 

"Oh! we do pretty well, " said Mr. Penruddock. 

"But how can a family live on ten or twelve shillings a week?" murmuredMrs. Neuchatel. 

"There it is, " said Mr. Penruddock. "A family has more than that. With afamily the income proportionately increases. "

Mrs. Neuchatel sighed. "I must say, " she said, "I cannot help feelingthere is something wrong in our present arrangements. When I sit downto dinner every day, with all these dishes, and remember that there aremillions who never taste meat, I cannot resist the conviction that itwould be better if there were some equal division, and all should have, if not much, at least something. "

"Nonsense, Emily!" said Mr. Neuchatel, who had an organ like Fine-ear, and could catch, when necessary, his wife's most mystical revelations. "My wife, Mr. Penruddock, is a regular Communist. I hope you are not, "he added, with a smile, turning to Myra. 

"I think life would be very insipid, " replied Myra, "if all our lotswere the same. "

When the ladies withdrew, Adriana and Myra walked out togetherhand-in-hand. Mr. Neuchatel rose and sate next to Mr. Penruddock, andbegan to talk politics. His reverend guest could not conceal his alarmabout the position of the Church and spoke of Lord John Russell'sappropriation clause with well-bred horror. 

"Well, I do not think there is much to be afraid of, " said Mr. Neuchatel. "This is a liberal age, and you cannot go against it. Thepeople must be educated, and where are the funds to come from? We mustall do something, and the Church must contribute its share. You know Iam a Liberal, but I am not for any rash courses. I am not at all sorrythat Sir Robert Peel gained so much at the last general election. I likeparties to be balanced. I am quite content with affairs. My friends, theLiberals, are in office, and, being there, they can do very little. Thatis the state of things, is it not, Melchior?" he added, with a smile tohis nephew, who was an M. P. "A balanced state of parties, and the houseof Neuchatel with three votes--that will do. We poor City men get alittle attention paid to us now, but before the dissolution three voteswent for nothing. Now, shall we go and ask my daughter to give us asong?"

Mrs. Neuchatel accompanied her daughter on the piano, and after a timenot merely on the instrument. The organ of both was fine and richlycultivated. It was choice chamber music. Mr. Neuchatel seated himselfby Myra. His tone was more than kind, and his manner gentle. "It is alittle awkward the first day, " he said, "among strangers, but that willwear off. You must bring your mind to feel that this is your home, andwe shall all of us do everything in our power to convince you of it. Mr. Penruddock mentioned to me your wish, under present circumstances, toenter as little as possible into society, and this is a very socialhouse. Your feeling is natural, and you will be in this matter entirelyyour own mistress. We shall always be glad to see you, but if you arenot present we shall know and respect the cause. For my own part, I amone of those who would rather cherish affection than indulge grief, butevery one must follow their mood. I hear you have a brother, to whomyou are much attached; a twin, too, and they tell me strongly resemblingyou. He is in a public office, I believe? Now, understand this; yourbrother can come here whenever he likes, without any further invitation. Ask him whenever you please. We shall always be glad to see him. Nosort of notice is necessary. This is not a very small house, and we canalways manage to find a bed and a cutlet for a friend. "

CHAPTER XXXII

Nothing could be more successful than the connection formed betweenthe Neuchatel family and Myra Ferrars. Both parties to the compact werealike satisfied. Myra had "got out of that hole" which she always hated;and though the new life she had entered was not exactly the one shehad mused over, and which was founded on the tradition of her earlyexperience, it was a life of energy and excitement, of splendour andpower, with a total absence of petty vexations and miseries, affordingneither time nor cause for the wearing chagrin of a monotonous andmediocre existence. But the crowning joy of her emancipation was theprospect it offered of frequent enjoyment of the society of her brother. 

With regard to the Neuchatels, they found in Myra everything they coulddesire. Mrs. Neuchatel was delighted with a companion who was not thedaughter of a banker, and whose schooled intellect not only comprehendedall her doctrines, however abstruse or fanciful, but who did nothesitate, if necessary, to controvert or even confute them. As forAdriana, she literally idolised a friend whose proud spirit and clearintelligence were calculated to exercise a strong but salutary influenceover her timid and sensitive nature. As for the great banker himself, who really had that faculty of reading character which his wifeflattered herself she possessed, he had made up his mind about Myra fromthe first, both from her correspondence and her conversation. "She hasmore common sense than any woman I ever knew, and more, " he would add, "than most men. If she were not so handsome, people would find itout; but they cannot understand that so beautiful a woman can havea headpiece, that, I really believe, could manage the affairs inBishopsgate Street. "

In the meantime life at Hainault resumed its usual course; streamsof guests, of all parties, colours, and classes, and even nations. Sometimes Mr. Neuchatel would say, "I really must have a quiet day thatMiss Ferrars may dine with us, and she shall ask her brother. How glad Ishall be when she goes into half-mourning! I scarcely catch a glimpse ofher. " And all this time his wife and daughter did nothing but quote her, which was still more irritating, for, as he would say, half-grumblingand half-smiling, "If it had not been for me she would not have beenhere. "

At first Adriana would not dine at table without Myra, and insisted onsharing her imprisonment. "It does not look like a cell, " said Myra, surveying, not without complacency, her beautiful little chamber, beautifully lit, with its silken hangings and carved ceiling and brightwith books and pictures; "besides, there is no reason why you should bea prisoner. You have not lost a father, and I hope never will. "

"Amen!" said Adriana; "that would indeed be the unhappiest day of mylife. "

"You cannot be in society too much in the latter part of the day, " saidMyra. "The mornings should be sacred to ourselves, but for the rest ofthe hours people are to see and to be seen, and, " she added, "to likeand be liked. "

Adriana shook her head; "I do not wish any one to like me but you. "

"I am sure I shall always like you, and love you, " said Myra, "but I amequally sure that a great many other people will do the same. "

"It will not be myself that they like or love, " said Adriana with asigh. 

"Now, spare me that vein, dear Adriana; you know I do not like it. It isnot agreeable, and I do not think it is true. I believe that women areloved much more for themselves than is supposed. Besides, a woman shouldbe content if she is loved; that is the point; and she is not to inquirehow far the accidents of life have contributed to the result. Why shouldyou not be loved for yourself? You have an interesting appearance. Ithink you very pretty. You have choice accomplishments and agreeableconversation and the sweetest temper in the world. You want a littleself-conceit, my dear. If I were you and admired, I should never thinkof my fortune. "

"If you were the greatest heiress in the world, Myra, and were married, nobody would suppose for a moment that it was for your fortune. "

"Go down to dinner and smile upon everybody, and tell me about yourconquests to-morrow. And say to your dear papa, that as he is so kind asto wish to see me, I will join them after dinner. "

And so, for the first two months, she occasionally appeared in theevening, especially when there was no formal party. Endymion came andvisited her every Sunday, but he was also a social recluse, and thoughhe had been presented to Mrs. Neuchatel and her daughter, and been mostcordially received by them, it was some considerable time before he madethe acquaintance of the great banker. 

About September Myra may be said to have formally joined the circle atHainault. Three months had elapsed since the terrible event, andshe felt, irrespective of other considerations, her position hardlyjustified her, notwithstanding all the indulgent kindness of the family, in continuing a course of life which she was conscious to themwas sometimes an inconvenience and always a disappointment. It wasimpossible to deny that she was interested and amused by the world whichshe now witnessed--so energetic, so restless, so various; so full ofurgent and pressing life; never thinking of the past and quite heedlessof the future, but worshipping an almighty present that sometimes seemedto roll on like the car of Juggernaut. She was much diverted by thegentlemen of the Stock Exchange, so acute, so audacious, and differingso much from the merchants in the style even of their dress, and in theease, perhaps the too great facility, of their bearing. They called eachother by their Christian names, and there were allusions to practicaljokes which intimated a life something between a public school anda garrison. On more solemn days there were diplomatists and men inpolitical office; sometimes great musical artists, and occasionally aFrench actor. But the dinners were always the same; dishes worthy of thegreat days of the Bourbons, and wines of rarity and price, which couldnot ruin Neuchatel, for in many instances the vineyards belonged tohimself. 

One morning at breakfast, when he rarely encountered them, but it wasa holiday in the City, Mr. Neuchatel said, "There are a few gentlemencoming to dine here to-day whom you know, with one exception. He is ayoung man, a very nice young fellow. I have seen a good deal of him oflate on business in the City, and have taken a fancy to him. He is aforeigner, but he was partly educated in this country and speaks Englishas well as any of us. "

"Then I suppose he is not a Frenchman, " said Mrs. Neuchatel, "for theynever speak English. "

"I shall not say what he is. You must all find out; I dare say MissFerrars will discover him; but, remember, you must all of you pay himgreat attention, for he is not a common person, I can assure you. "

"You are mysterious, Adrian, " said his wife, "and quite pique ourcuriosity. "

"Well, I wish somebody would pique mine, " said the banker. "Theseholidays in the City are terrible things. I think I will go afterbreakfast and look at the new house, and I dare say Miss Ferrars will bekind enough to be my companion. "

Several of the visitors, fortunately for the banker whose time hungrather heavily on his hands, arrived an hour or so before dinner, thatthey might air themselves in the famous gardens and see some of the newplants. But the guest whom he most wished to greet, and whom the ladieswere most curious to welcome, did not arrive. They had all entered thehouse and the critical moment was at hand, when, just as dinnerwas about to be announced, the servants ushered in a young man ofdistinguished appearance, and the banker exclaimed, "You have arrivedjust in time to take Mrs. Neuchatel in to dinner, " and he presented toher--COLONEL ALBERT. 

CHAPTER XXXIII

The ladies were much interested by Colonel Albert. Mrs. Neuchatelexercised on him all the unrivalled arts by which she so unmistakablydiscovered character. She threw on him her brown velvet eyes with asubdued yet piercing beam, which would penetrate his most secret andeven undeveloped intelligence. She asked questions in a hushed mysticalvoice, and as the colonel was rather silent and somewhat short inhis replies, though ever expressed in a voice of sensibility and withrefined deference of manner, Mrs. Neuchatel opened her own peculiarviews on a variety of subjects of august interest, such as education, high art, the influence of women in society, the formation of character, and the distribution of wealth, on all of which this highly giftedlady was always in the habit of informing her audience, by way ofaccompaniment, that she was conscious that the views she entertainedwere peculiar. The views of Mrs. Neuchatel were peculiar, and thereforenot always, or even easily, comprehended. That indeed she felt wasrather her fate in life, but a superior intelligence like hers has adegree of sublimated self-respect which defies destiny. 

When she was alone with the ladies, the bulletin of Mrs. Neuchatel wasnot so copious as had been expected. She announced that Colonel Albertwas sentimental, and she suspected a poet. But for the rest she haddiscovered nothing, not even his nationality. She had tried him bothin French and German, but he persisted in talking English, although hespoke of himself as a foreigner. After dinner he conversed chieflywith the men, particularly with the Governor of the Bank, who seemedto interest him much, and a director of one of the dock companies, whooffered to show him over their establishment, an offer which ColonelAlbert eagerly accepted. Then, as if he remembered that homage wasdue at such a moment to the fairer sex, he went and seated himselfby Adriana, and was playful and agreeable, though when she wascross-examined afterwards by her friends as to the character of hisconversation, she really could not recall anything particular exceptthat he was fond of horses, and said that he should like very much totake a ride with her. Just before he took his departure, Colonel Albertaddressed Myra, and in a rather strange manner. He said, "I have beenpuzzling myself all dinner, but I cannot help feeling that we have metbefore. "

Myra shook her head and said, "I think that is impossible. "

"Well, " said the colonel with a look a little perplexed and notaltogether satisfied, "I suppose then it was a dream. May dreams sodelightful, " and he bowed, "never be wanting!"

"So you think he is a poet, Emily, " said Mr. Neuchatel when they had allgone. "We have got a good many of his papers in Bishopsgate Street, butI have not met with any verses in them yet. "

The visit of Colonel Albert was soon repeated, and he became a ratherfrequent guest at Hainault. It was evident that he was a favourite withMr. Neuchatel. "He knows very few people, " he would say, "and I wish himto make some friends. Poor young fellow: he has had rather a hardlife of it, and seen some service for such a youth. He is a perfectgentleman, and if he be a poet, Emily, that is all in your way. You likeliterary people, and are always begging that I should ask them. Well, next Saturday you will have a sort of a lion--one of the principalwriters in 'Scaramouch. ' He is going to Paris as the foreigncorrespondent of the 'Chuck-Farthing, ' with a thousand a year, and oneof my friends in the Stock Exchange, who is his great ally, asked me togive him some letters. So he came to Bishopsgate Street--they all cometo Bishopsgate Street--and I asked him to dine here on Saturday. By theby, Miss Ferrars, ask your brother to come on the same day and stay withus till Monday. I will take him up to town with me quite in time for hisoffice. "

This was the first time that Endymion had remained at Hainault. Helooked forward to the visit with anticipation of great pleasure. Hainault, and all the people there, and everything about it, delightedhim, and most of all the happiness of his sister and the consideration, and generosity, and delicate affection with which she was treated. Onemorning, to his astonishment, Myra had insisted upon his accepting fromher no inconsiderable sum of money. "It is no part of my salary, " shesaid, when he talked of her necessities. "Mr. Neuchatel said he gave itto me for outfit and to buy gloves. But being in mourning I want tobuy nothing, and you, dear darling, must have many wants. Besides, Mrs. Neuchatel has made me so many presents that I really do not think that Ishall ever want to buy anything again. "

It was rather a grand party at Hainault, such as Endymion had littleexperience of. There was a cabinet minister and his wife, not onlyan ambassador, but an ambassadress who had been asked to meet them, a nephew Neuchatel, the M. P. With a pretty young wife, and severalapparently single gentlemen of note and position. Endymion was nervouswhen he entered, and more so because Myra was not in the room. Buthis trepidation was absorbed in his amazement when in the distance heobserved St. Barbe, with a very stiff white cravat, and his hairbrushed into unnatural order, and his whole demeanour forming a singularcontrast to the rollicking cynicisms of Joe's and the office. 

Mr. Neuchatel presented St. Barbe to the lady of the mansion. "Here isone of our greatest wits, " said the banker, "and he is going to Paris, which is the capital of wits. " The critical moment prevented prolongedconversation, but the lady of the mansion did contrive to convey to St. Barbe her admiring familiarity with some of his effusions, and threw outa phrase which proved how finely she could distinguish between wit andhumour. 

Endymion at dinner sate between two M. P. 's, whom his experience at theHouse of Commons allowed him to recognise. As he was a young man whomneither of them knew, neither of them addressed him, but with delicatebreeding carried on an active conversation across him, as if in fact hewere not present. As Endymion had very little vanity, this did not atall annoy him. On the contrary, he was amused, for they spoke of matterswith which he was not unacquainted, though he looked as if he knew orheard nothing. Their conversation was what is called "shop:" allabout the House and office; criticisms on speakers, speculations as topreferment, what Government would do about this, and how well Governmentgot out of that. 

Endymion was amused by seeing Myra, who was remote from him, sittingby St. Barbe, who, warmed by the banquet, was evidently holding forthwithout the slightest conception that his neighbour whom he addressedhad long become familiar with his characteristics. 

After dinner St. Barbe pounced upon Endymion. "Only think of our meetinghere!" he said. "I wonder why they asked you. You are not going toParis, and you are not a wit. What a family this is!" he said; "I hadno idea of wealth before! Did you observe the silver plate? I could nothold mine with one hand, it was so heavy. I do not suppose there aresuch plates in the world. It gives one an idea of the galleons andAnson's plunder. But they deserve their wealth, " he added, "nobodygrudges it to them. I declare when I was eating that truffle, I felt aglow about my heart that, if it were not indigestion, I think must havebeen gratitude; though that is an article I had not believed in. He isa wonderful man, that Neuchatel. If I had only known him a year ago! Iwould have dedicated my novel to him. He is a sort of man who would havegiven you a cheque immediately. He would not have read it, to be sure, but what of that? If you had dedicated it to a lord, the most he wouldhave done would have been to ask you to dinner, and then perhaps cut upyour work in one of the Quality reviews, and taken money for doing itout of our pockets! Oh! it's too horrid! There are some topsawyers hereto-day, Ferrars! It would make Seymour Hicks' mouth water to be here. Weshould have had it in the papers, and he would have left us out ofthe list, and called us, etc. Now I dare say that ambassador has beenblundering all his life, and yet there is something in that star andribbon; I do not know you feel, but I could almost go down on my kneesto him. And there is a cabinet minister; well, we know what he is; Ihave been squibbing him for these two years, and now that I meet him Ifeel like a snob. Oh! there is an immense deal of superstition left inthe world. I am glad they are going to the ladies. I am to be honouredby some conversation with the mistress of the house. She seems afirst-rate woman, familiar with the glorious pages of a certain classicwork, and my humble effusions. She praised one she thought I wrote, but between ourselves it was written by that fellow Seymour Hicks, whoimitates me; but I would not put her right, as dinner might have beenannounced every moment. But she is a great woman, sir, --wonderful eyes!They are all great women here. I sat next to one of the daughters, or daughters-in-law, or nieces, I suppose. By Jove! it was tierce andquart. If you had been there, you would have been run through in amoment. I had to show my art. Now they are rising. I should not besurprised if Mr. Neuchatel were to present me to some of the grandees. Ibelieve them to be all impostors, but still it is pleasant to talk to aman with a star. 

"'Ye stars, which are the poetry of heaven, '

"Byron wrote; a silly line; he should have written, "'Ye stars, which are the poetry of dress. '"

CHAPTER XXXIV

St. Barbe was not disappointed in his hopes. It was an evening ofglorious success for him. He had even the honour of sitting for a timeby the side of Mrs. Neuchatel, and being full of good claret, he, as hephrased it, showed his paces; that is to say, delivered himself of somesarcastic paradoxes duly blended with fulsome flattery. Later in theevening, he contrived to be presented both to the ambassador and thecabinet minister, and treated them as if they were demigods; listenedto them as if with an admiration which he vainly endeavoured to repress;never spoke except to enforce and illustrate the views which they hadcondescended to intimate; successfully conveyed to his excellency thathe was conversing with an enthusiast for his exalted profession; andto the minister that he had met an ardent sympathiser with his noblecareer. The ambassador was not dissatisfied with the impression he hadmade on one of the foreign correspondents of the "Chuck-Farthing, " andthe minister flattered himself that both the literary and the graphicrepresentations of himself in "Scaramouch" might possibly for the futurebe mitigated. 

"I have done business to-night, " said St. Barbe to Endymion, towards theclose of the evening. "You did not know I had left the old shop? I keptit close. I could stand it no longer. One has energies, sir, though notrecognised--at least not recognised much, " he added thoughtfully. "Butwho knows what may happen? The age of mediocrity is not eternal. You seethis thing offered, and I saw an opening. It has come already. Yousaw the big-wigs all talking to me? I shall go to Paris now with some_eclat_. I shall invent a new profession; the literary diplomatist. Thebore is, I know nothing about foreign politics. My line has been theother way. Never mind; I will read the 'Debats' and the 'Revue des DeuxMondes, ' and make out something. Foreign affairs are all the future, andmy views may be as right as anybody else's; probably more correct, notso conventional. What a fool I was, Ferrars! I was asked to remain hereto-night and refused! The truth is, I could not stand those powderedgentlemen, and I should have been under their care. They seem so haughtyand supercilious. And yet I was wrong. I spoke to one of them veryrudely just now, when he was handing coffee, to show I was not afraid, and he answered me like a seraph. I felt remorse. "

"Well, I have made the acquaintance of Mr. St. Barbe, " said Myra toEndymion. "Strange as he is, he seemed quite familiar to me, and he wasso full of himself that he never found me out. I hope some day to knowMr. Trenchard and Mr. Waldershare. Those I look upon as your chieffriends. "

On the following afternoon, Adriana, Myra, and Endymion took a longwalk together in the forest. The green glades in the autumnal woods wereinviting, and sometimes they stood before the vast form of some dodderedoak. The air was fresh and the sun was bright. Adriana was always gayand happy in the company of her adored Myra, and her happiness and hergaiety were not diminished by the presence of Myra's brother. So it wasa lively and pleasant walk. 

At the end of a long glade they observed a horseman followed by a groomapproaching them. Endymion was some little way behind, gathering wildflowers for Adriana. Cantering along, the cavalier soon reached them, and then he suddenly pulled up his horse. It was Colonel Albert. 

"You are walking, ladies? Permit me to join you, " and he was by theirside. "I delight in forests and in green alleys, " said Colonel Albert. "Two wandering nymphs make the scene perfect. "

"We are not alone, " said Adriana, "but our guardian is picking some wildflowers for us, which we fancied. I think it is time to return. You aregoing to Hainault, I believe, Colonel Albert, so we can all walk hometogether. "

So they turned, and Endymion with his graceful offering in a moment metthem. Full of his successful quest, he offered with eager triumph theflowers to Adriana, without casting a glance at her new companion. 

"Beautiful!" exclaimed Adriana, and she stopped to admire and arrangethem. "See, dear Myra, is not this lovely? How superior to anything inour glass-houses!"

Myra took the flower and examined it. Colonel Albert, who was silent, was watching all this time Endymion with intentness, who now lookedup and encountered the gaze of the new comer. Their eyes met, theircountenances were agitated, they seemed perplexed, and then it seemedthat at the same time both extended their hands. 

"It is a long time since we met, " said Colonel Albert, and he retainedthe hand of Endymion with affection. But Endymion, who was apparentlymuch moved, said nothing, or rather only murmured an echo to the remarksof his new friend. And then they all walked on, but Myra fell a littleback and made a signal to Endymion to join her. 

"You never told me, darling, that you knew Colonel Albert. "

"Colonel Albert!" said Endymion, looking amazed, and then he added, "Whois Colonel Albert?"

"That gentleman before us, " said Myra. 

"That is the Count of Otranto, whose fag I was at Eton. "

"The Count of Otranto!"

CHAPTER XXXV

Colonel Albert from this day became an object of increased and deeperinterest to Myra. His appearance and manners had always been attractive, and the mystery connected with him was not calculated to diminishcuriosity in his conduct or fate. But when she discovered that he wasthe unseen hero of her childhood, the being who had been kind to herEndymion in what she had ever considered the severest trial of herbrother's life, had been his protector from those who would haveoppressed him, and had cherished him in the desolate hour of hisdelicate and tender boyhood, her heart was disturbed. How often had theytalked together of the Count of Otranto, and how often had they wonderedwho he was! His memory had been a delightful mystery to them in theirBerkshire solitude, and Myra recalled with a secret smile the numberlessand ingenious inquiries by which she had endeavoured to elicit from herbrother some clue as to his friend, or to discover some detail whichmight guide her to a conclusion. Endymion had known nothing, and wasclear always that the Count of Otranto must have been, and was, anEnglish boy. And now the Count of Otranto called himself Colonel Albert, and though he persisted in speaking English, had admitted to Mrs. Neuchatel that he was a foreigner. 

Who was he? She resolved, when she had an opportunity, to speak to thegreat banker on the subject. 

"Do you know, Mr. Neuchatel, " she said, "that Endymion, my brother, wasat school with Colonel Albert?"

"Ah, ah!" said Mr. Neuchatel. 

"But when he was at school he had another name, " said Myra. 

"Oh, oh!" said Mr. Neuchatel. 

"He was then called the Count of Otranto. "

"That is a very pretty name, " said Mr. Neuchatel. 

"But why did he change it?" asked Myra. 

"The great world often change their names, " said Mr. Neuchatel. "It isonly poor City men like myself who are always called Mr. , and bear thesame name as their fathers. "

"But when a person is called a count when he is a boy, he is seldomcalled only a colonel when he is a man, " said Myra. "There is a greatmystery in all this. "

"I should not be surprised, " said Mr. Neuchatel, "if he were to changehis name again before this time year. "

"Why?" asked Myra. 

"Well, when I have read all his papers in Bishopsgate Street, perhaps Ishall be able to tell you, " said Mr. Neuchatel, and Myra felt that shecould pursue the theme no further. 

She expected that Endymion would in time be able to obtain thisinformation, but it was not so. In their first private conversationafter their meeting in the forest, Endymion had informed Colonel Albertthat, though they had met now for the first time since his return, theyhad been for some time lodgers in London under the same roof. ColonelAlbert smiled when Endymion told him this; then falling into thought, he said; "I hope we may often meet, but for the moment it may be as wellthat the past should be known only to ourselves. I wish my life for thepresent to be as private as I can arrange it. There is no reason why weshould not be sometimes together--that is, when you have leisure. I hadthe pleasure of making your acquaintance at my banker's. "

Parliament had been dissolved through the demise of the crown in thesummer of this year (1837), and London society had been prematurelybroken up. Waldershare had left town early in July to secure hiselection, in which he was successful, with no intention of settlingagain in his old haunts till the meeting of the new House of Commons, which was to be in November. The Rodneys were away at some Kentishwatering-place during August and September, exhibiting to an admiringworld their exquisitely made dresses, and enjoying themselves amazinglyat balls and assemblies at the public rooms. The resources of privatesociety also were not closed to them. Mr. And Mrs. Gamme were also thereand gave immense dinners, and the airy Mrs. Hooghley, who laughed alittle at the Gammes' substantial gatherings and herself improvisedcharming pic-nics. So there was really little embarrassment in thesocial relations between Colonel Albert and Endymion. They resolvedthemselves chiefly into arranging joint expeditions to Hainault. Endymion had a perpetual invitation there, and it seemed that thetransactions between Mr. Neuchatel and the colonel required muchconference, for the banker always expected him, although it was wellknown that they met not unfrequently in Bishopsgate Street in the courseof the week. Colonel Albert and Endymion always stayed at Hainault fromSaturday till Monday. It delighted the colonel to mount Endymion on oneof his choice steeds, and his former fag enjoyed all this amazingly. 

Colonel Albert became domiciled at Hainault. The rooms which wereoccupied by him when there were always reserved for him. He had ageneral invitation, and might leave his luggage and books and papersbehind him. It was evident that the family pleased him. Between Mr. Neuchatel and himself there were obviously affairs of great interest;but it was equally clear that he liked the female members of thefamily--all of them; and all liked him. And yet it cannot be said thathe was entertaining, but there are some silent people who are moreinteresting than the best talkers. And when he did speak he alwayssaid the right thing. His manners were tender and gentle; he had anunobtrusive sympathy with all they said or did, except, indeed, and thatwas not rarely, when he was lost in profound abstraction. 

"I delight in your friend the colonel, Adrian, " said Mrs. Neuchatel, "but I must say he is very absent. "

"He has a good deal to think about, " said Mr. Neuchatel. 

"I wonder what it can be, " thought Myra. 

"He has a claim to a great estate, " said Mr. Neuchatel, "and he has tothink of the best mode of establishing it; and he has been deprived ofgreat honours, and he believes unjustly, and he wishes to regain them. "

"No wonder, then, he is absent, " said Mrs. Neuchatel. "If he only knewwhat a burthen great wealth is, I am sure he would not wish to possessit, and as for honours I never could make out why having a title or aribbon could make any difference in a human being. "

"Nonsense, my dear Emily, " said Mr. Neuchatel. "Great wealth is ablessing to a man who knows what to do with it, and as for honours, theyare inestimable to the honourable. "

"Well, I ardently hope Colonel Albert may succeed, " said Myra, "becausehe was so kind to my brother at Eton. He must have a good heart. "

"They say he is the most unscrupulous of living men, " said Mr. Neuchatel, with his peculiar smile. 

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Mrs. Neuchatel. 

"How terrible!" said Adriana. "It cannot be true. "

"Perhaps he is the most determined, " said Myra. "Moral courage is therarest of qualities, and often maligned. "

"Well, he has got a champion, " said Mr. Neuchatel. 

"I ardently wish him success, " said Myra, "in all his undertakings. Ionly wish I knew what they were. "

"Has not he told your brother, Miss Ferrars?" asked Mr. Neuchatel, withlaughing eyes. 

"He never speaks of himself to Endymion, " said Myra. 

"He speaks a good deal of himself to me, " said Mr. Neuchatel; "and he isgoing to bring a friend here to-morrow who knows more about his affairseven than I do. So you will have a very good opportunity, Miss Ferrars, of making yourself acquainted with them, particularly if you sit next tohim at dinner, and are very winning. "

The friend of Colonel Albert was Baron Sergius, the baron who used tovisit him in London at twilight in a dark brougham. Mrs. Neuchatelwas greatly taken by his appearance, by the calmness of his mien, hisunstudied politeness, and his measured voice. He conversed with herentirely at dinner on German philosophy, of which he seemed a completemaster, explained to her the different schools, and probably thesuccessful ones, and imparted to her that precise knowledge which sherequired on the subject, and which she had otherwise been unableto obtain. It seemed, too, that he personally knew all the famousprofessors, and he intimated their doctrines not only with profoundcriticism, but described their persons and habits with vividness andpicturesque power, never, however, all this time, by any chance raisinghis voice, the tones of which were ever distinct and a little precise. 

"Is this the first visit of your friend to this country?" asked Myra ofColonel Albert. 

"Oh no; he has been here often--and everywhere, " added Colonel Albert. 

"Everywhere! he must be a most interesting companion then. "

"I find him so: I never knew any one whom I thought equal to him. Butperhaps I am not an impartial judge, for I have known him so long andso intimately. In fact, I had never been out of his sight till I wasbrought over to this country to be placed at Eton. He is the counsellorof our family, and we all of us have ever agreed that if his advice hadbeen always followed we should never have had a calamity. "

"Indeed, a gifted person! Is he a soldier?"

"No; Baron Sergius has not followed the profession of arms. "

"He looks a diplomatist. "

"Well, he is now nothing but my friend, " said the colonel. "He mighthave been anything, but he is a peculiarly domestic character, and isdevoted to private life. "

"You are fortunate in such a friend. "

"Well, I am glad to be fortunate in something, " said Colonel Albert. 

"And are you not fortunate in everything?"

"I have not that reputation; but I shall be more than fortunate if Ihave your kind wishes. "

"Those you have, " said Myra, rather eagerly. "My brother taught me, evenas a child, to wish nothing but good for you. I wish I knew only what Iwas to wish for. "

"Wish that my plans may succeed, " said Colonel Albert, looking round toher with interest. 

"I will more than wish, " said Myra; "I will believe that they willsucceed, because I think you have resolved to succeed. "

"I shall tell Endymion when I see him, " said Colonel Albert, "that hissister is the only person who has read my character. "

CHAPTER XXXVI

Colonel Albert and Baron Sergius drove up in their landau from Hainaultwhile Endymion was at the door in Warwick Street, returning home. Thecolonel saluted him cordially, and said, "The baron is going to takea cup of coffee with me; join us. " So they went upstairs. There wasa packet on the table, which seemed to catch the colonel's eyeimmediately, and he at once opened it with eagerness. It contained manyforeign newspapers. Without waiting for the servant who was about tobring candles, the colonel lighted a taper on the table with a lucifer, and then withdrew into the adjoining chamber, opening, however, withfolding doors to the principal and spacious apartment. 

"A foreign newspaper always interests our friend, " said the baron, taking his coffee. 

"Well, it must always be interesting to have news from home, I suppose, "said Endymion. 

"Home!" said the baron. "News is always interesting, whether it comefrom home or not. "

"To public men, " said Endymion. 

"To all men if they be wise, " said the baron; "as a general rule, themost successful man in life is the man who has the best information. "

"But what a rare thing is success in life!" said Endymion. "I oftenwonder whether I shall ever be able to step out of the crowd. "

"You may have success in life without stepping out of the crowd, " saidthe baron. 

"A sort of success, " said Endymion; "I know what you mean. But what Imean is real success in life. I mean, I should like to be a public man. "

"Why?" asked the baron. 

"Well, I should like to have power, " said Endymion, blushing. 

"The most powerful men are not public men, " said the baron. "A publicman is responsible, and a responsible man is a slave. It is private lifethat governs the world. You will find this out some day. The world talksmuch of powerful sovereigns and great ministers; and if being talkedabout made one powerful, they would be irresistible. But the fact is, the more you are talked about the less powerful you are. "

"But surely King Luitbrand is a powerful monarch; they say he is thewisest of men. And the Emperor Harold, who has succeeded in everything. And as for ministers, who is a great man if it be not PrinceWenceslaus?"

"King Luitbrand is governed by his doctor, who is capable of governingEurope, but has no ambition that way; the Emperor Harold is directed byhis mistress, who is a woman of a certain age with a vast sagacity, but who also believes in sorcery; and as for Prince Wenceslaus, he isinspired by an individual as obscure as ourselves, and who, for aught Iknow, may be, at this moment, like ourselves, drinking a cup of coffeein a hired lodging. "

"What you say about public life amazes me, " said Endymion musingly. 

"Think over it, " said the baron. "As an Englishman, you will havedifficulty in avoiding public life. But at any rate do not at presentbe discontented that you are unknown. It is the first condition of realpower. When you have succeeded in life according to your views, and Iam inclined to believe you will so succeed, you will, some day, sighfor real power, and denounce the time when you became a public man, andbelonged to any one but yourself. But our friend calls me. He has foundsomething startling. I will venture to say, if there be anything in it, it has been brought about by some individual of whom you never heard. "

CHAPTER XXXVII

With the assembling of parliament in November recommenced the sittingsof the Union Society, of which Endymion had for some time been a member, and of whose meetings he was a constant and critical, thoughsilent, attendant. There was a debate one night on the governmentof dependencies, which, although all reference to existing politicalcircumstances was rigidly prohibited, no doubt had its origin inthe critical state of one of our most important colonies, then muchembarrassing the metropolis. The subject was one which Endymion hadconsidered, and on which he had arrived at certain conclusions. Themeeting was fully attended, and the debate had been conducted with agravity becoming the theme. Endymion was sitting on a back bench, andwith no companion near him with whom he was acquainted, when he roseand solicited the attention of the president. Another and a well-knownspeaker had also risen, and been called, but there was a cry of "newmember, " a courteous cry, borrowed from the House of Commons, andEndymion for the first time heard his own voice in public. He has sinceadmitted, though he has been through many trying scenes, that it wasthe most nervous moment of his life. "After Calais, " as a wise wit said, "nothing surprises;" and the first time a man speaks in public, even ifonly at a debating society, is also the unequalled incident in its way. The indulgence of the audience supported him while the mist clearedfrom his vision, and his palpitating heart subsided into comparativetranquillity. After a few pardonable incoherencies, he was launched intohis subject, and spoke with the thoughtful fluency which knowledge alonecan sustain. For knowledge is the foundation of eloquence. 

"What a good-looking young fellow!" whispered Mr. Bertie Tremaine to hisbrother Mr. Tremaine Bertie. The Bertie Tremaines were the two greatestswells of the Union, and had a party of their own. "And he speaks well. "

"Who is he?" inquired Mr. Tremaine Bertie of their other neighbour. 

"He is a clerk in the Treasury, I believe, or something of that sort, "was the reply. 

"I never saw such a good-looking young fellow, " said Mr. BertieTremaine. "He is worth getting hold of. I shall ask to be introduced tohim when we break up. "

Accordingly, Mr. Bertie Tremaine, who was always playing at politics, and who, being two-and-twenty, was discontented he was not Chancellorof the Exchequer like Mr. Pitt, whispered to a gentleman who sate behindhim, and was, in short, the whip of his section, and signified, as aminister of state would, that an introduction to Mr. Ferrars should bearranged. 

So when the meeting broke up, of which Mr. Ferrars' maiden speech wasquite the event, and while he was contemplating, not without some fairself-complacency, walking home with Trenchard, Endymion found himselfencompassed by a group of bowing forms and smiling countenances, and, almost before he was aware of it, had made the acquaintance of the greatMr. Bertie Tremaine, and received not only the congratulations of thatgentleman, but an invitation to dine with him on the morrow; "quite_sans facon_. "

Mr. Bertie Tremaine, who had early succeeded to the family estate, livedin Grosvenor Street, and in becoming style. His house was furnished withluxury and some taste. The host received his guests in a library, wellstored with political history and political science, and adorned withthe busts of celebrated statesmen and of profound political sages. Bentham was the philosopher then affected by young gentleman ofambition, and who wished to have credit for profundity and hard heads. Mr. Bertie Tremaine had been the proprietor of a close borough, whichfor several generations had returned his family to parliament, thefaithful supporters of Pitt, and Perceval, and Liverpool, and he hadcontemplated following the same line, though with larger and higherobjects than his ancestors. Being a man of considerable and versatileability, and of ample fortune, with the hereditary opportunity whichhe possessed, he had a right to aspire, and, as his vanity more thanequalled his talents, his estimate of his own career was not mean. Unfortunately, before he left Harrow, he was deprived of his borough, and this catastrophe eventually occasioned a considerable change in theviews and conduct of Mr. Bertie Tremaine. In the confusion of partiesand political thought which followed the Reform Act of Lord Grey, anattempt to govern the country by the assertion of abstract principles, and which it was now beginning to be the fashion to call Liberalism, seemed the only opening to public life; and Mr. Bertie Tremaine, whopiqued himself on recognising the spirit of the age, adopted Liberalopinions with that youthful fervour which is sometimes calledenthusiasm, but which is a heat of imagination subsequently discoveredto be inconsistent with the experience of actual life. At CambridgeMr. Bertie Tremaine was at first the solitary pupil of Bentham, whoseprinciples he was prepared to carry to their extreme consequences, butbeing a man of energy and in possession of a good estate, he soon foundfollowers, for the sympathies of youth are quick, and, even with anoriginal bias, it is essentially mimetic. When Mr. Bertie Tremaine leftthe university he found in the miscellaneous elements of the LondonUnion many of his former companions of school and college, and fromthem, and the new world to which he was introduced, it delighted him toform parties and construct imaginary cabinets. His brother Augustus, whowas his junior only by a year, and was destined to be a diplomatist, wasan efficient assistant in these enterprises, and was one of the guestswho greeted Endymion when he arrived next day in Grosvenor Streetaccording to his engagement. The other three were Hortensius, the whipof the party, and Mr. Trenchard. 

The dinner was refined, for Mr. Bertie Tremaine combined the Sybaritewith the Utilitarian sage, and it secretly delighted him to astonish orembarrass an austere brother republican by the splendour of hisfamily plate or the polished appointments of his household. To-day theindividual to be influenced was Endymion, and the host, acting up to hisideal of a first minister, addressed questions to his companions on thesubjects which were peculiarly their own, and, after eliciting theirremarks, continued to complete the treatment of the theme with adequateability, though in a manner authoritative, and, as Endymion thought, a little pompous. What amused him most in this assemblage of youth wastheir earnest affectation of public life. The freedom of their commentson others was only equalled by their confidence in themselves. Endymion, who only spoke when he was appealed to, had casually remarked in answerto one of the observations which his host with elaborate politenessoccasionally addressed to him, that he thought it was unpatriotic totake a certain course. Mr. Bertie Tremaine immediately drew up, andsaid, with a deep smile, "that he comprehended philanthropy, butpatriotism he confessed he did not understand;" and thereupon deliveredhimself of an address on the subject which might have been made in theUnion, and which communicated to the astonished Endymion that patriotismwas a false idea, and entirely repugnant to the principles of the newphilosophy. As all present were more or less impregnated with thesetenets, there was no controversy on the matter. Endymion remaineddiscreetly silent, and Augustus--Mr. Bertie Tremaine's brother--who satenext to him, and whose manners were as sympathising as his brother'swere autocratic, whispered in a wheedling tone that it was quite true, and that the idea of patriotism was entirely relinquished except by afew old-fashioned folks who clung to superstitious phrases. Hortensius, who seemed to be the only one of the company who presumed to meet Mr. Bertie Tremaine in conversation on equal terms, and who had alreadyastonished Endymion by what that inexperienced youth deemed the extremelaxity of his views, both social and political, evinced, more than once, a disposition to deviate into the lighter topics of feminine character, and even the fortunes of the hazard-table; but the host looked severe, and was evidently resolved that the conversation to-day should resemblethe expression of his countenance. After dinner they returned to thelibrary, and most of them smoked, but Mr. Bertie Tremaine, invitingEndymion to seat himself by his side on a sofa at the farther end of theroom, observed, "I suppose you are looking to parliament?"

"Well, I do not know, " said the somewhat startled Endymion; "I have notthought much about it, and I have not yet reached a parliamentary age. "

"A man cannot enter parliament too soon, " said Mr. Bertie Tremaine;"I hope to enter this session. There will be a certain vacancy on apetition, and I have arranged to have the seat. "

"Indeed!" said Endymion. "My father was in parliament, and so was mygrandfather, but I confess I do not very well see my way there. "

"You must connect yourself with a party, " said Mr. Bertie Tremaine, "andyou will soon enter; and being young, you should connect yourself withthe party of the future. The country is wearied with the present men, who have no philosophical foundation, and are therefore perpetuallypuzzled and inconsistent, and the country will not stand the old men, asit is resolved against retrogression. The party of the future and of thespeedy future has its headquarters under this roof, and I should like tosee you belong to it. "

"You are too kind, " murmured Endymion. 

"Yes, I see in you the qualities adapted to public life, and which maybe turned to great account. I must get you into parliament as soon asyou are eligible, " continued Mr. Bertie Tremaine in a musing tone. "Thisdeath of the King was very inopportune. If he had reigned a coupleof years more, I saw my way to half a dozen seats, and I could havearranged with Lord Durham. "

"That was unfortunate, " said Endymion. 

"What do you think of Hortensius?" inquired Mr. Bertie Tremaine. 

"I think him the most brilliant speaker I know, " said Endymion. "I nevermet him in private society before; he talks well. "

"He wants conduct, " said Mr. Bertie Tremaine. "He ought to be myLord Chancellor, but there is a tone of levity about him which isunfortunate. Men destined to the highest places should beware ofbadinage. "

"I believe it is a dangerous weapon. "

"All lawyers are loose in their youth, but an insular country subjectto fogs, and with a powerful middle class, requires grave statesmen. Iattribute a great deal of the nonsense called Conservative Reaction toPeel's solemnity. The proper minister for England at this moment wouldbe Pitt. Extreme youth gives hope to a country; coupled with ceremoniousmanners, hope soon assumes the form of confidence. "

"Ah!" murmured Endymion. 

"I had half a mind to ask Jawett to dinner to-day. His powers areunquestionable, but he is not a practical man. For instance, I thinkmyself our colonial empire is a mistake, and that we should disembarrassourselves of its burthen as rapidly as is consistent with the dignity ofthe nation; but were Jawett in the House of Commons to-morrow, nothingwould satisfy him but a resolution for the total and immediate abolitionof the empire, with a preamble denouncing the folly of our fathers increating it. Jawett never spares any one's self-love. "

"I know him very well, " said Endymion; "he is in my office. He is veryuncompromising. "

"Yes, " said Mr. Bertie Tremaine musingly; "if I had to form agovernment, I could hardly offer him the cabinet. " Then speaking morerapidly, he added, "The man you should attach yourself to is my brotherAugustus--Mr. Tremaine Bertie. There is no man who understands foreignpolitics like Augustus, and he is a thorough man of the world. "

CHAPTER XXXVIII

When parliament reassembled in February, the Neuchatels quitted Hainaultfor their London residence in Portland Place. Mrs. Neuchatel wassadly troubled at leaving her country home, which, notwithstanding itsdistressing splendour, had still some forms of compensatory innocencein its flowers and sylvan glades. Adriana sighed when she called to mindthe manifold and mortifying snares and pitfalls that awaited her, andhad even framed a highly practical and sensible scheme which wouldpermit her parents to settle in town and allow Myra and herself toremain permanently in the country; but Myra brushed away the projectlike a fly, and Adriana yielding, embraced her with tearful eyes. 

The Neuchatel mansion in Portland Place was one of the noblest in thatcomely quarter of the town, and replete with every charm and conveniencethat wealth and taste could provide. Myra, who, like her brother, had atenacious memory, was interested in recalling as fully and as accuratelyas possible her previous experience of London life. She was then indeedonly a child, but a child who was often admitted to brilliant circles, and had enjoyed opportunities of social observation which the veryyouthful seldom possess. Her retrospection was not as profitable as shecould have desired, and she was astonished, after a severe analysis ofthe past, to find how entirely at that early age she appeared tohave been engrossed with herself and with Endymion. Hill Street andWimbledon, and all their various life, figured as shadowy scenes; shecould realise nothing very definite for her present guidance; the pastseemed a phantom of fine dresses, and bright equipages, and endlessindulgence. All that had happened after their fall was distinct and fullof meaning. It would seem that adversity had taught Myra to feel andthink. 

Forty years ago the great financiers had not that commanding, not to saypredominant, position in society which they possess at present, butthe Neuchatels were an exception to this general condition. They werea family which not only had the art of accumulating wealth, but ofexpending it with taste and generosity--an extremely rare combination. Their great riches, their political influence, their high integrity andtheir social accomplishments, combined to render their house not onlysplendid, but interesting and agreeable, and gave them a great hold uponthe world. At first the fine ladies of their political party called onthem as a homage of condescending gratitude for the public support whichthe Neuchatel family gave to their sons and husbands, but they soondiscovered that this amiable descent from their Olympian heights ontheir part did not amount exactly to the sacrifice or service which theyhad contemplated. They found their host as refined as themselves, andmuch more magnificent, and in a very short time it was not merely thewives of ambassadors and ministers of state that were found at thegarden fetes of Hainault, or the balls, and banquets, and concertsof Portland Place, but the fitful and capricious realm of fashionsurrendered like a fair country conquered as it were by surprise. Tovisit the Neuchatels became the mode; all solicited to be their guests, and some solicited in vain. 

Although it was only February, the world began to move, and some of theministers' wives, who were socially strong enough to venture on such astep, received their friends. Mr. Neuchatel particularly liked thisform of society. "I cannot manage balls, " he used to say, "but I like aministerial reception. There is some chance of sensible conversation anddoing a little business. I like talking with ambassadors after dinner. Besides, in this country you meet the leaders of the opposition, because, as they are not invited by the minister, but by his wife, anybody can come without committing himself. "

Myra, faithful to her original resolution, not to enter society whileshe was in mourning, declined all the solicitudes of her friends toaccompany them to these assemblies. Mrs. Neuchatel always wished Myrashould be her substitute, and it was only at Myra's instance thatAdriana accompanied her parents. In the meantime, Myra saw much ofEndymion. He was always a welcome guest by the family, and could callupon his sister at all the odds and ends of time that were at hiscommand, and chat with her at pleasant ease in her pretty room. Sometimes they walked out together, and sometimes they went together tosee some exhibition that everybody went to see. Adriana became almostas intimate with Endymion as his sister, and altogether the Neuchatelfamily became by degrees to him as a kind of home. Talking withEndymion, Myra heard a good deal of Colonel Albert, for he was herbrother's hero--but she rarely saw that gentleman. She was aware fromher brother, and from some occasional words of Mr. Neuchatel, that thegreat banker still saw Colonel Albert and not unfrequently, but thechange of residence from Hainault to London made a difference in theirmode of communication. Business was transacted in Bishopsgate Street, and no longer combined with a pleasant ride to an Essex forest. Morethan once Colonel Albert had dined in Portland Place, but at irregularand miscellaneous parties. Myra observed that he was never asked tomeet the grand personages who attended the celebrated banquets of Mr. Neuchatel. And why not? His manners were distinguished, but his wholebearing that of one accustomed to consideration. The irrepressiblecuriosity of woman impelled her once to feel her way on the subject withMr. Neuchatel, but with the utmost dexterity and delicacy. 

"No, " said Mr. Neuchatel with a laughing eye, and who saw througheverybody's purpose, though his own manner was one of simplicityamounting almost to innocence, "I did not say Colonel Albert was goingto dine here on Wednesday; I have asked him to dine here on Sunday. OnWednesday I am going to have the premier and some of his colleagues. I must insist upon Miss Ferrars dining at table. You will meet LordRoehampton; all the ladies admire him and he admires all the ladies. Itwill not do to ask Colonel Albert to meet such a party, though perhaps, "added Mr. Neuchatel with a merry smile, "some day they may be asked tomeet Colonel Albert. Who knows, Miss Ferrars? The wheel of Fortune turnsround very strangely. "

"And who then is Colonel Albert?" asked Myra with decision. 

"Colonel Albert is Colonel Albert, and nobody else, so far as I know, "replied Mr. Neuchatel; "he has brought a letter of credit on my housein that name, and I am happy to honour his drafts to the amount inquestion, and as he is a foreigner, I think it is but kind and courteousoccasionally to ask him to dinner. "

Miss Ferrars did not pursue the inquiry, for she was sufficientlyacquainted with Mr. Neuchatel to feel that he did not intend to gratifyher curiosity. 

The banquet of the Neuchatels to the premier, and some of the principalambassadors and their wives, and to those of the premier's colleagueswho were fashionable enough to be asked, and to some of the dukes andduchesses and other ethereal beings who supported the ministry, was thefirst event of the season. The table blazed with rare flowers and rarerporcelain and precious candelabra of sculptured beauty glittering withlight; the gold plate was less remarkable than the delicate ware thathad been alike moulded and adorned for a Du Barri or a Marie Antoinette, and which now found a permanent and peaceful home in the proverbialland of purity and order; and amid the stars and ribbons, not the leastremarkable feature of the whole was Mr. Neuchatel himself, seated atthe centre of his table, alike free from ostentation or over-deference, talking to the great ladies on each side of him, as if he had nothing todo in life but whisper in gentle ears, and partaking of his own daintiesas if he were eating bread and cheese at a country inn. 

Perhaps Mrs. Neuchatel might have afforded a companion picture. Partlyin deference to their host, and partly because this evening the firstdance of the season was to be given, the great ladies in general woretheir diamonds, and Myra was amused as she watched their dazzling tiarasand flashing rivieres, while not a single ornament adorned the gracefulpresence of their hostess, who was more content to be brilliant only byher conversation. As Mr. Neuchatel had only a few days before presentedhis wife with another diamond necklace, he might be excused were heslightly annoyed. Nothing of the sort; he only shrugged his shoulders, and said to his nephew, "Your aunt must feel that I give her diamondsfrom love and not from vanity, as she never lets me have the pleasureof seeing them. " The sole ornament of Adriana was an orchid, which hadarrived that morning from Hainault, and she had presented its fellow toMyra. 

There was one lady who much attracted the attention of Myra, interestedin all she observed. This lady was evidently a person of importance, forshe sate between an ambassador and a knight of the garter, and they viedin homage to her. They watched her every word, and seemed delighted withall she said. Without being strictly beautiful, there was an expressionof sweet animation in her physiognomy which was highly attractive: hereye was full of summer lightning, and there was an arch dimple in hersmile, which seemed to irradiate her whole countenance. She was quite ayoung woman, hardly older than Myra. What most distinguished her was theharmony of her whole person; her graceful figure, her fair and finelymoulded shoulders, her pretty teeth, and her small extremities, seemedto blend with and become the soft vivacity of her winning glance. 

"Lady Montfort looks well to-night, " said the neighbour of Myra. 

"And is that Lady Montfort? Do you know, I never saw her before. "

"Yes; that is the famous Berengaria, the Queen of Society, and thegenius of Whiggism. "

In the evening, a great lady, who was held to have the finest voice insociety, favoured them with a splendid specimen of her commanding skill, and then Adriana was induced to gratify her friends with a song, "onlyone song, " and that only on condition that Myra should accompany her. Miss Neuchatel had a sweet and tender voice, and it had been finelycultivated; she would have been more than charming if she had only takeninterest in anything she herself did, or believed for a moment thatshe could interest others. When she ceased, a gentleman approachedthe instrument and addressed her in terms of sympathy and deferentialpraise. Myra recognised the knight of the garter who had sat next toLady Montfort. He was somewhat advanced in middle life, tall and of astately presence, with a voice more musical even than the tones whichhad recently enchanted every one. His countenance was impressive, a truly Olympian brow, but the lower part of the face indicated notfeebleness, but flexibility, and his mouth was somewhat sensuous. Hismanner was at once winning; natural, and singularly unaffected, andseemed to sympathise entirely with those whom he addressed. 

"But I have never been at Hainault, " said the gentleman, continuinga conversation, "and therefore could not hear the nightingales. I amcontent you have brought one of them to town. "

"Nightingales disappear in June, " said Miss Ferrars; "so our season willbe short. "

"And where do they travel to?" asked the gentleman. 

"Ah! that is a mystery, " said Myra. "You must ask Miss Neuchatel. "

"But she will not tell me, " said the gentleman, for in truth MissNeuchatel, though he had frequently addressed her, had scarcely openedher lips. 

"Tell your secret, Adriana, " said Miss Ferrars, trying to force her toconverse. 

"Adriana!" said the gentleman. "What a beautiful name! You look withthat flower, Miss Neuchatel, like a bride of Venice. "

"Nay, " said Myra; "the bride of Venice was a stormy ocean. "

"And have you a Venetian name?" asked the gentleman. 

There was a pause, and then Miss Neuchatel, with an effort, murmured, "She has a very pretty name. Her name is Myra. "

"She seems to deserve it, " said the gentleman. 

"So you like my daughter's singing, " said Mr. Neuchatel, coming up tothem. "She does not much like singing in public, but she is a very goodgirl, and always gives me a song when I come home from business. "

"Fortunate man!" said the gentleman. "I wish somebody would sing to mewhen I come home from business. "

"You should marry, my lord, " said Mr. Neuchatel, "and get your wife tosing to you. Is it not so, Miss Ferrars? By the by, I ought to introduceyou to--Lord Roehampton. "

CHAPTER XXXIX

The Earl of Roehampton was the strongest member of the government, except, of course, the premier himself. He was the man from whosecombined force and flexibility of character the country had confidencethat in all their councils there would be no lack of courage, yettempered with adroit discretion. Lord Roehampton, though an Englishman, was an Irish peer, and was resolved to remain so, for he fullyappreciated the position, which united social distinction with the powerof a seat in the House of Commons. He was a very ambitious, and, as itwas thought, worldly man, deemed even by many to be unscrupulous, andyet he was romantic. A great favourite in society, and especiallywith the softer sex, somewhat late in life, he had married suddenlya beautiful woman, who was without fortune, and not a member of theenchanted circle in which he flourished. The union had been successful, for Lord Roehampton was gifted with a sweet temper, and, though peoplesaid he had no heart, with a winning tenderness of disposition, or atleast of manner, which at the same time charmed and soothed. He had beena widower for two years, and the world was of opinion that he ought tomarry again, and form this time a becoming alliance. In addition to hismany recommendations he had now the inestimable reputation, which no onehad ever contemplated for him, of having been a good husband. 

Berengaria, Countess of Montfort, was a great friend of Lord Roehampton. She was accustomed to describe herself as "the last of his conquests, "and though Lord Roehampton read characters and purposes with a glance, and was too sagacious to be deceived by any one, even by himself, his gratified taste, for he scarcely had vanity, cherished the brightillusion of which he was conscious, and he responded to Lady Montforthalf sportively, half seriously, with an air of flattered devotion. LordRoehampton had inherited an ample estate, and he had generally been inoffice; for he served his apprenticeship under Perceval and Liverpool, and changed his party just in time to become a member of the Cabinet of1831. Yet with all these advantages, whether it were the habit of hislife, which was ever profuse, or that neglect of his private interestswhich almost inevitably accompanies the absorbing duties of public life, his affairs were always somewhat confused, and Lady Montfort, whowished to place him on a pinnacle, had resolved that he should marryan heiress. After long observation and careful inquiry and prolongedreflection, the lady she had fixed upon was Miss Neuchatel; and sheit was who had made Lord Roehampton cross the room and address Adrianaafter her song. 

"He is not young, " reasoned Lady Montfort to herself, "but his mind andmanner are young, and that is everything. I am sure I meet youth everyday who, compared with Lord Roehampton, could have no chance with mysex--men who can neither feel, nor think, nor converse. And then he isfamous, and powerful, and fashionable, and knows how to talk to women. And this must all tell with a banker's daughter, dying, of course, tobe a _grande dame_. It will do. He may not be young, but he isirresistible. And the father will like it, for he told me in confidence, at dinner, that he wished Lord Roehampton to be prime minister; and withthis alliance he will be. "

The plot being devised by a fertile brain never wanting in expedients, its development was skilfully managed, and its accomplishmentanticipated with confidence. It was remarkable with what dexterity theNeuchatel family and Lord Roehampton were brought together. Berengaria'slord and master was in the country, which he said he would not quit; butthis did not prevent her giving delightful little dinners and holdingselect assemblies on nights when there was no dreadful House of Commons, and Lord Roehampton could be present. On most occasions, and especiallyon these latter ones, Lady Montfort could not endure existence withouther dear Adriana. Mr. Neuchatel, who was a little in the plot, who atleast smiled when Berengaria alluded to her enterprise, was not wantingin his contributions to its success. He hardly ever gave one of hisfamous banquets to which Lord Roehampton was not invited, and, strangeto say, Lord Roehampton, who had the reputation of being somewhatdifficult on this head, always accepted the invitations. The crowningsocial incident, however, was when Lord Roehampton opened his own housefor the first time since his widowhood, and received the Neuchatels ata banquet not inferior to their own. This was a great triumph for LadyMontfort, who thought the end was at hand. 

"Life is short, " she said to Lord Roehampton that evening. "Why notsettle it to-night?"

"Well, " said Lord Roehampton, "you know I never like anythingprecipitate. Besides, why should the citadel surrender when I havehardly entered on my first parallel?"

"Ah! those are old-fashioned tactics, " said Lady Montfort. 

"Well, I suppose I am an old-fashioned man. "

"Be serious, now. I want it settled before Easter. I must go down to mylord then, and even before; and I should like to see this settled beforewe separate. "

"Why does not Montfort come up to town?" said Lord Roehampton. "He iswanted. "

"Well, " said Lady Montfort, with half a sigh, "it is no use talkingabout it. He will not come. Our society bores him, and he must beamused. I write to him every day, and sometimes twice a day, and pass mylife in collecting things to interest him. I would never leave him for amoment, only I know then that he would get wearied of me; and he thinksnow--at least, he once said so--that he has never had a dull moment inmy company. "

"How can he find amusement in the country?" said Lord Roehampton. "Thereis no sport now, and a man cannot always be reading French novels. "

"Well, I send amusing people down to him, " said Berengaria. "Itis difficult to arrange, for he does not like toadies, which is sounreasonable, for I know many toadies who are very pleasant. Treeby iswith him now, and that is excellent, for Treeby contradicts him, and isscientific as well as fashionable, and gives him the last news of theSun as well as of White's. I want to get this great African traveller togo down to him; but one can hardly send a perfect stranger as a guest. I wanted Treeby to take him, but Treeby refused--men are so selfish. Treeby could have left him there, and the traveller might have remaineda week, told all he had seen, and as much more as he liked. My lordcannot stand Treeby more than two days, and Treeby cannot stand my lordfor a longer period, and that is why they are such friends. "

"A sound basis of agreement, " said Lord Roehampton. "I believe absenceis often a great element of charm. "

"But, _a nos moutons_, " resumed Lady Montfort. "You see now why I am soanxious for a conclusion of our affair. I think it is ripe?"

"Why do you?" said Lord Roehampton. 

"Well, she must be very much in love with you. "

"Has she told you so?"

"No; but she looks in love. "

"She has never told me so, " said Lord Roehampton. 

"Have you told her?"

"Well, I have not, " said her companion. "I like the family--all of them. I like Neuchatel particularly. I like his house and style of living. You always meet nice people there, and bear the last thing that has beensaid or done all over the world. It is a house where you are sure not tobe dull. "

"You have described a perfect home, " said Lady Montfort, "and it awaitsyou. "

"Well, I do not know, " said Lord Roehampton. "Perhaps I am fastidious, perhaps I am content; to be noticed sometimes by a Lady Montfort should, I think, satisfy any man. "

"Well, that is gallant, but it is not business, my dear lord. You cancount on my devotion even when you are married; but I want to see you ona pinnacle, so that if anything happens there shall be no question whois to be the first man in this country. "

CHAPTER XL

The meeting of parliament caused also the return of Waldershare toEngland, and brought life and enjoyment to our friends in WarwickStreet. Waldershare had not taken his seat in the autumn session. Afterthe general election, he had gone abroad with Lord Beaumaris, the youngnobleman who had taken them to the Derby, and they had seen anddone many strange things. During all their peregrinations, however, Waldershare maintained a constant correspondence with Imogene, occasionally sending her a choice volume, which she was not only toread, but to prove her perusal of it by forwarding to him a criticism ofits contents. 

Endymion was too much pleased to meet Waldershare again, and told him ofthe kind of intimacy he had formed with Colonel Albert and all aboutthe baron. Waldershare was much interested in these details, and it wasarranged that an opportunity should be taken to make the colonel andWaldershare acquainted. 

This, however, was not an easy result to bring about, for Waldershareinsisted on its not occurring formally, and as the colonel maintainedthe utmost reserve with the household, and Endymion had no room ofreception, weeks passed over without Waldershare knowing more of ColonelAlbert personally than sometimes occasionally seeing him mount hishorse. 

In the meantime life in Warwick Street, so far as the Rodney family wereconcerned, appeared to have re-assumed its pleasant, and what perhapswe are authorised in styling its normal condition. They went to theplay two or three times a week, and there Waldershare or Lord Beaumaris, frequently both, always joined them; and then they came home to supper, and then they smoked; and sometimes there was a little singing, andsometimes a little whist. Occasionally there was only conversation, thatis to say, Waldershare held forth, dilating on some wondrous theme, full of historical anecdote, and dazzling paradox, and happy phrase. Alllistened with interest, even those who did not understand him. Much ofhis talk was addressed really to Beaumaris, whose mind he was forming, as well as that of Imogene. Beaumaris was an hereditary Whig, but hadnot personally committed himself, and the ambition of Waldershare wasto transform him not only into a Tory, but one of the old rock, areal Jacobite. "Is not the Tory party, " Waldershare would exclaim, "asuccession of heroic spirits, 'beautiful and swift, ' ever in the van, and foremost of their age?--Hobbes and Bolingbroke, Hume and Adam Smith, Wyndham and Cobham, Pitt and Grenville, Canning and Huskisson?--Are notthe principles of Toryism those popular rights which men like Shippenand Hynde Cotton flung in the face of an alien monarch and his mushroomaristocracy?--Place bills, triennial bills, opposition to standingarmies, to peerage bills?--Are not the traditions of the Tory party thenoblest pedigree in the world? Are not its illustrations that gloriousmartyrology, that opens with the name of Falkland and closes with thename of Canning?"

"I believe it is all true, " whispered Lord Beaumaris to Sylvia, who hadreally never heard of any of these gentlemen before, but looked mostsweet and sympathetic. 

"He is a wonderful man--Mr. Waldershare, " said Mr. Vigo to Rodney, "butI fear not practical. "

One day, not very long after his return from his travels, Waldersharewent to breakfast with his uncle, Mr. Sidney Wilton, now acabinet minister, still unmarried, and living in Grosvenor Square. Notwithstanding the difference of their politics, an affectionateintimacy subsisted between them; indeed Waldershare was a favourite ofhis uncle, who enjoyed the freshness of his mind, and quite appreciatedhis brilliancy of thought and speech, his quaint reading andeffervescent imagination. 

"And so you think we are in for life, George, " said Mr. Wilson, taking apiece of toast. "I do not. "

"Well, I go upon this, " said Waldershare. "It is quite clear that Peelhas nothing to offer the country, and the country will not rally round anegation. When he failed in '34 they said there had not been sufficienttime for the reaction to work. Well, now, since then, it has had nearlythree years, during which you fellows have done everything to outrageevery prejudice of the constituency, and yet they have given you amajority. "

"Yes, that is all very well, " replied Mr. Wilton, "but we are theLiberal shop, and we have no Liberal goods on hand; we are the partyof movement, and must perforce stand still. The fact is, all the greatquestions are settled. No one will burn his fingers with the IrishChurch again, in this generation certainly not, probably in no other;you could not get ten men together in any part of the country toconsider the corn laws; I must confess I regret it. I still retain myopinion that a moderate fixed duty would be a wise arrangement, butI quite despair in my time of any such advance of opinion; as forthe ballot, it is hardly tolerated in debating societies. The presentgovernment, my dear George, will expire from inanition. I always toldthe cabinet they were going on too fast. They should have kept backmunicipal reform. It would have carried us on for five years. It was ouronly _piece de resistance_. "

"I look upon the House of Commons as a mere vestry, " said Waldershare. "I believe it to be completely used up. Reform has dished it. There areno men, and naturally, because the constituencies elect themselves, andthe constituencies are the most mediocre of the nation. The House ofCommons now is like a spendthrift living on his capital. The businessis done and the speeches are made by men formed in the old school. The influence of the House of Commons is mainly kept up by old socialtraditions. I believe if the eldest sons of peers now members wouldall accept the Chiltern hundreds, and the House thus cease to befashionable, before a year was past, it would be as odious and ascontemptible as the Rump Parliament. "

"Well, you are now the eldest son of a peer, " said Sidney Wilton, smiling. "Why do you not set an example, instead of spending yourfather's substance and your own in fighting a corrupt borough?"

"I am _vox clamantis_, " said Waldershare. "I do not despair of its beingdone. But what I want is some big guns to do it. Let the eldest son ofa Tory duke and the eldest son of a Whig duke do the same thing onthe same day, and give the reason why. If Saxmundham, for example, andHarlaxton would do it, the game would be up. "

"On the contrary, " said Mr. Wilton, "Saxmundham, I can tell you, will bethe new cabinet minister. "

"Degenerate land!" exclaimed Waldershare. "Ah! in the eighteenthcentury there was always a cause to sustain the political genius of thecountry, --the cause of the rightful dynasty. "

"Well, thank God, we have got rid of all those troubles, " said Mr. Wilton. 

"Rid of them! I do not know that. I saw a great deal of the Duke ofModena this year, and tried as well as I could to open his mind to thesituation. "

"You traitor!" exclaimed Mr. Wilton. "If I were Secretary of State, Iwould order the butler to arrest you immediately, and send you to theTower in a hack cab; but as I am only a President of a Board and youruncle, you will escape. "

"Well, I should think all sensible men, " said Waldershare, "of allparties will agree, that before we try a republic, it would be better togive a chance to the rightful heir. "

"Well, I am not a republican, " said Mr. Wilton, "and I think QueenVictoria, particularly if she make a wise and happy marriage, need notmuch fear the Duke of Modena. "

"He is our sovereign lord, all the same, " said Waldershare. "I wish hewere more aware of it himself. Instead of looking to a restoration tohis throne, I found him always harping on the fear of French invasion. Icould not make him understand that France was his natural ally, and thatwithout her help, Charlie was not likely to have his own again. "

"Well, as you admire pretenders, George, I wish you were in my shoesthis morning, for I have got one of the most disagreeable interviews onhand which ever fell to my lot. "

"How so, my dear uncle?" said Waldershare, in a tone of sympathy, for hesaw that the countenance of Mr. Wilton was disturbed. 

"My unhappy ward, " said Mr. Wilton; "you know, of course, somethingabout him. "

"Well, I was at school and college, " said Waldershare, "when it allhappened. But I have just heard that you had relations with him. "

"The most intimate; and there is the bitterness. There existed betweenhis mother Queen Agrippina and myself ties of entire friendship. In herlast years and in her greatest adversity she appealed to me to be theguardian of her son. He inherited all her beauty and apparently all hersweetness of disposition. I took the greatest pains with him. He was atEton, and did well there. He was very popular; I never was so deceivedin a boy in my life. I though him the most docile of human beings, andthat I had gained over him an entire influence. I am sure it would havebeen exercised for his benefit. In short, I may say it now, I lookedupon him as a son, and he certainly would have been my heir; and yetall this time, from his seventeenth year, he was immersed in politicalintrigue, and carrying on plots against the sovereign of his country, even under my own roof. "

"How very interesting!" said Waldershare. 

"It may be interesting to you; I know what it cost me. The greatestanxiety and sorrow, and even nearly compromised my honour. Had I nota large-hearted chief and a true man of the world to deal with, I musthave retired from the government. "

"How could he manage it?" said Waldershare. 

"You have no conception of the devices and resources of the secretsocieties of Europe, " said Mr. Wilton. "His drawing-master, hisfencing-master, his dancing-master, all his professors of languages, whodelighted me by their testimony to his accomplishments and their praisesof his quickness and assiduity, were active confederates in bringingabout events which might have occasioned an European war. He left meavowedly to pay a visit in the country, and I even received letters fromhim with the postmark of the neighbouring town; letters all preparedbeforehand. My first authentic information as to his movements was tolearn, that he had headed an invading force, landed on the shores whichhe claimed as his own, was defeated and a prisoner. "

"I remember it, " said Waldershare. "I had just then gone up to St. John's, and I remember reading it with the greatest excitement. "

"All this was bad enough, " said Mr. Wilton, "but this is not my sorrow. I saved him from death, or at least a dreadful imprisonment. He waspermitted to sail to America on his parole that he would never returnto Europe, and I was required, and on his solemn appeal I consented, togive my personal engagement that the compact should be sacred. Beforetwo years had elapsed, supported all this time, too, by my bounty, therewas an attempt, almost successful, to assassinate the king, and my wardwas discovered and seized in the capital. This time he was immured, andfor life, in the strongest fortress of the country; but secret societieslaugh at governments, and though he endured a considerable imprisonment, the world has recently been astounded by hearing that he had escaped. Yes; he is in London and has been here, though in studied obscurity, for some little time. He has never appealed to me until within thesefew days, and now only on the ground that there are some family affairswhich cannot be arranged without my approval. I had great doubtswhether I should receive him. I feel I ought not to have done so. But Ihesitated, and I know not what may be the truth about women, but of thisI am quite sure, the man who hesitates is lost. "

"How I should like to present at the interview, my dear uncle!" saidWaldershare. 

"And I should not be sorry to have a witness, " said Mr. Wilton, "but itis impossible. I am ashamed to say how unhinged I feel; no person, andno memories, ought to exercise such an influence over one. To tell youthe truth, I encouraged your pleasant gossip at breakfast by way ofdistraction at this moment, and now"----

At this moment, the groom of the chambers entered and announced "Hisroyal highness, Prince Florestan. "

Mr. Wilton, who was too agitated to speak, waved his hand to Waldershareto retire, and his nephew vanished. As Waldershare was descending thestaircase, he drew back on a landing-place to permit the prince toadvance undisturbed. The prince apparently did not observe him, but whenWaldershare caught the countenance of the visitor, he started. 

CHAPTER XLI

"I know, sir, you are prejudiced against me, " said Prince Florestan, bowing before Mr. Wilton with a sort of haughty humility, "and thereforeI the more appreciate your condescension in receiving me. "

"I have no wish to refer to the past, " said Mr. Wilton somewhat sternly. "You mentioned in your letter that my co-operation was necessary withreference to your private affairs, of which I once was a trustee, andunder those circumstances I felt it my duty to accede to your request. Iwish our communication to be limited to that business. "

"It shall be so strictly, " said the prince; "you may remember, sir, thatat the unhappy period when we were deprived of our throne, the nameof Queen Agrippina was inscribed on the great book of the state for aconsiderable sum, for which the credit of the state was pledged to her. It was strictly her private property, and had mainly accrued throughthe sale of the estates of her ancestors. This sum was confiscated, andseveral other amounts, which belonged to members of our house and to ourfriends. It was an act of pure rapine, so gross, that as time revolved, and the sense of justice gradually returned to the hearts of men, restitution was made in every instance except my own, though I havereason to believe that individual claim was the strongest. My bankers, the house of Neuchatel, who have much interested themselves in thismatter, and have considerable influence with the government thatsucceeded us, have brought things to this pass, that we have reason tobelieve our claim would be conceded, if some of the foreign governments, and especially the government of this country, would signify that thesettlement would not be disagreeable to them. " And the prince ceased, and raising his eyes, which were downcast as he spoke, looked Mr. Wiltonstraight in the face. 

"Before such a proposal could even be considered by Her Majesty'sGovernment, " said Mr. Wilton with a reddening cheek, "the intimationmust be made to them by authority. If the minister of your country hassuch an intimation to make to ours, he should address himself to theproper quarter, to Lord Roehampton. "

"I understand, " said Prince Florestan; "but governments, likeindividuals, sometimes shrink from formality. The government of mycountry will act on the intimation, but they do not care to make it anaffair of despatches. "

"There is only one way of transacting business, " said Mr. Wiltonfrigidly, and as if, so far as he was concerned, the interview wasended. 

"I have been advised on high authority, " said Prince Florestan, speakingvery slowly, "that if any member of the present cabinet will mention inconversation to the representative of my country here, that the act ofjustice would not be disagreeable to the British Government, the affairis finished. "

"I doubt whether any one of my colleagues would be prepared to undertakea personal interference of that kind with a foreign government, " saidMr. Wilton stiffly. "For my own part, I have had quite enough of suchinterpositions never to venture on them again. "

"The expression of feeling desired would involve no sort of engagement, "said the imperturbable prince. 

"That depends on the conscience of the individual who interferes. Noman of honour would be justified in so interposing if he believed he wasthus furnishing arms against the very government of which he solicitedthe favour. "

"But why should he believe this?" asked the prince with great calmness. 

"I think upon reflection, " said Mr. Wilton, taking up at the same timean opened letter which was before him, as if he wished to resume theprivate business on which he had been previously engaged, "that yourroyal highness might find very adequate reasons for the belief. "

"I would put this before you with great deference, sir, " said theprince. "Take my own case; is it not more likely that I should lead thatlife of refined retirement, which I really desire, were I in possessionof the means to maintain such a position with becoming dignity, than ifI were distressed, and harassed, and disgusted, every day, with sightsand incidents which alike outrage my taste and self-respect? It is notprosperity, according to common belief, that makes conspirators. "

"You _were_ in a position, and a refined position, " rejoined Mr. Wiltonsharply; "you had means adequate to all that a gentleman could desire, and might have been a person of great consideration, and you wantonlydestroyed all this. "

"It might be remembered that I was young. "

"Yes, you were young, very young, and your folly was condoned. Youmight have begun life again, for to the world at least you were a man ofhonour. You had not deceived the world, whatever you might have done toothers. "

"If I presume to make another remark, " said the prince calmly, but pale, "it is only, believe me, sir, from the profound respect I feel for you. Do not misunderstand these feelings, sir. They are not unbecoming thepast. Now that my mother has departed, there is no one to whom I amattached except yourself. I have no feeling whatever towards any otherhuman being. All my thought and all my sentiment are engrossed by mycountry. But pardon me, dear sir, for so let me call you, if I ventureto say that, in your decision on my conduct, you have never taken intoconsideration the position which I inherited. "

"I do not follow you, sir. "

"You never will remember that I am the child of destiny, " said PrinceFlorestan. "That destiny will again place me on the throne of myfathers. That is as certain as I am now speaking to you. But destiny forits fulfilment ordains action. Its decrees are inexorable, but they areobscure, and the being whose career it directs is as a man travellingin a dark night; he reaches his goal even without the aid of stars ormoon. "

"I really do not understand what destiny means, " said Mr. Wilton. "I understand what conduct means, and I recognise that it should beregulated by truth and honour. I think a man had better have nothing todo with destiny, particularly if it is to make him forfeit his parole. "

"Ah! sir, I well know that on that head you entertain a great prejudicein my respect. Believe me it is not just. Even lawyers acknowledgethat a contract which is impossible cannot be violated. My return fromAmerica was inevitable. The aspirations of a great people and of manycommunities required my presence in Europe. My return was the naturaldevelopment of the inevitable principle of historical necessity. "

"Well, that principle is not recognised by Her Majesty's Ministers, "said Mr. Wilton, and both himself and the prince seemed to rise at thesame time. 

"I thank you, sir, for this interview, " said his royal highness. "Youwill not help me, but what I require will happen by some other means. Itis necessary, and therefore it will occur. "

The prince remounted his horse, and rode off quickly till he reachedthe Strand, where obstacles to rapid progress commenced, and thoughimpatient, it was some time before he reached Bishopsgate Street. Heentered the spacious courtyard of a noble mansion, and, giving hishorse to the groom, inquired for Mr. Neuchatel, to whom he was atonce ushered, --seated in a fine apartment at a table covered with manypapers. 

"Well, my prince, " said Mr. Neuchatel with a smiling eye, "what bringssuch a great man into the City to-day? Have you seen your great friend?"And then Prince Florestan gave Mr. Neuchatel a succinct but sufficientsummary of his recent interview. 

"Ah!" said Mr. Neuchatel, "so it is, so it is; I dare say if youwere received at St. James', Mr. Sidney Wilton would not be so veryparticular; but we must take things as we find them. If our fine friendswill not help us, you must try us poor business men in the City. We canmanage things here sometimes which puzzle them at the West End. I sawyou were disturbed when you came in. Put on a good countenance. Nobodyshould ever look anxious except those who have no anxiety. I dare sayyou would like to know how your account is. I will send for it. It isnot so bad as you think. I put a thousand pounds to it in the hope thatyour fine friend would help us, but I shall not take it off again. MyLouis is going to-night to Paris, and he shall call upon the ministersand see what can be done. In the meantime, good appetite, sir. I amgoing to luncheon, and there is a place for you. And I will show youmy Gainsborough that I have just bought, from a family for whom it waspainted. The face is divine, very like our Miss Ferrars. I am going tosend the picture down to Hainault. I won't tell you what I gave for it, because perhaps you would tell my wife and she would be very angry. Shewould want the money for an infant school. But I think she has schoolsenough. Now to lunch. "

On the afternoon of this day there was a half-holiday at the office, andEndymion had engaged to accompany Waldershare on some expedition. Theyhad been talking together in his room where Waldershare was finishinghis careless toilette, which however was never finished, and they hadjust opened the house door and were sallying forth when Colonel Albertrode up. He gave a kind nod to Endymion, but did not speak, and thecompanions went on. "By the by, Ferrars, " said Waldershare, pressing hisarm and bubbling with excitement, "I have found out who your colonel is. It is a wondrous tale, and I will tell it all to you as we go on. "

CHAPTER XLII

Endymion had now passed three years of his life in London, andconsidering the hard circumstances under which he had commencedthis career, he might on the whole look back to those years withoutdissatisfaction. Three years ago he was poor and friendless, utterlyignorant of the world, and with nothing to guide him but his own goodsense. His slender salary had not yet been increased, but with thegenerosity and aid of his sister and the liberality of Mr. Vigo, he waseasy in his circumstances. Through the Rodneys, he had become acquaintedwith a certain sort of miscellaneous life, a knowledge of which ishighly valuable to a youth, but which is seldom attained without risk. Endymion, on the contrary, was always guarded from danger. Throughhis most unexpected connection with the Neuchatel family, he had seensomething of life in circles of refinement and high consideration, andhad even caught glimpses of that great world of which he read so muchand heard people talk more, the world of the Lord Roehamptons and theLady Montforts, and all those dazzling people whose sayings and doingsform the taste, and supply the conversation, and leaven the existence ofadmiring or wondering millions. 

None of these incidents, however, had induced any change in the schemeof his existence. Endymion was still content with his cleanly and airygarret; still dined at Joe's; was still sedulous at his office, andalways popular with his fellow clerks. Seymour Hicks, indeed, whostudied the "Morning Post" with intentness, had discovered the nameof Endymion in the elaborate lists of attendants on Mrs. Neuchatel'sreceptions, and had duly notified the important event to his colleagues;but Endymion was not severely bantered on the occasion, for, since thewithdrawal of St. Barbe from the bureau, the stock of envy at SomersetHouse was sensibly diminished. 

His lodging at the Rodneys', however, had brought Endymion somethingmore valuable than an innocuous familiarity with their various andsuggestive life. In the friendship of Waldershare he found a richcompensation for being withdrawn from his school and deprived of hisuniversity. The care of his father had made Endymion a good classicalscholar, and he had realised a degree of culture which it delightedthe brilliant and eccentric Waldershare to enrich and to complete. Waldershare guided his opinions, and directed his studies, and formedhis taste. Alone at night in his garret, there was no solitude, for hehad always some book or some periodical, English or foreign, with whichWaldershare had supplied him, and which he assured Endymion it wasabsolutely necessary that he should read and master. 

Nor was his acquaintance with Baron Sergius less valuable, or lessfruitful of results. He too became interested in Endymion, and pouredforth to him, apparently without reserve, all the treasures of his vastexperience of men and things, especially with reference to the conductof external affairs. He initiated him in the cardinal principles of thepolicies of different nations; he revealed to him the real characterof the chief actors in the scene. "The first requisite, " Baron Sergiuswould say, "in the successful conduct of public affairs is a personalacquaintance with the statesmen engaged. It is possible that eventsmay not depend now, so much as they did a century ago, on individualfeeling, but, even if prompted by general principles, their applicationand management are always coloured by the idiosyncrasy of the chiefactors. The great advantage which your Lord Roehampton, for example, hasover all his colleagues in _la haute politique_, is that he was one ofyour plenipotentiaries at the Congress of Vienna. There he learned togauge the men who govern the world. Do you think a man like that, calledupon to deal with a Metternich or a Pozzo, has no advantage over anindividual who never leaves his chair in Downing Street except to killgrouse? Pah! Metternich and Pozzo know very well that Lord Roehamptonknows them, and they set about affairs with him in a totally differentspirit from that with which they circumvent some statesman who hasissued from the barricades of Paris. "

Nor must it be forgotten that his debating society and the acquaintancewhich he had formed there, were highly beneficial to Endymion. Underthe roof of Mr. Bertie Tremaine he enjoyed the opportunity of formingan acquaintance with a large body of young men of breeding, of higheducation, and full of ambition, that was a substitute for the society, becoming his youth and station, which he had lost by not going to theuniversity. 

With all these individuals, and with all their circles, Endymion was afavourite. No doubt his good looks, his mien--which was both cheerfuland pensive--his graceful and quiet manners, all told in his favour, and gave him a good start, but further acquaintance always sustainedthe first impression. He was intelligent and well-informed, without anyalarming originality, or too positive convictions. He listened not onlywith patience but with interest to all, and ever avoided controversy. Here are some of the elements of a man's popularity. 

What was his intellectual reach, and what his real character, it wasdifficult at this time to decide. He was still very young, only onthe verge of his twentieth year; and his character had no doubt beeninfluenced, it might be suppressed, by the crushing misfortunes of hisfamily. The influence of his sister was supreme over him. She had neverreconciled herself to their fall. She had existed only on the solitaryidea of regaining their position, and she had never omitted an occasionto impress upon him that he had a great mission, and that, aided by herdevotion, he would fulfil it. What his own conviction on this subjectwas may be obscure. Perhaps he was organically of that cheerful and easynature, which is content to enjoy the present, and not brood over thepast. The future may throw light upon all these points; at present itmay be admitted that the three years of seemingly bitter and mortifyingadversity have not been altogether wanting in beneficial elements in theformation of his character and the fashioning of his future life. 

CHAPTER XLIII

Lady Montfort heard with great satisfaction from Mr. Neuchatel that LordRoehampton was going to pay a visit to Hainault at Easter, and that hehad asked himself. She playfully congratulated Mrs. Neuchatel on thesubject, and spoke as if the affair was almost concluded. That lady, however, received the intimation with a serious, not to say distressedcountenance. She said that she should be grieved to lose Adriana underany circumstances; but if her marriage in time was a necessity, shetrusted she might be united to some one who would not object to becominga permanent inmate of their house. What she herself desired for herdaughter was a union with some clergyman, and if possible, the rectorof their own parish. But it was too charming a dream to realise. Therectory at Hainault was almost in the Park, and was the prettiest housein the world, with the most lovely garden. She herself much preferred itto the great mansion--and so on. 

Lady Montfort stared at her with impatient astonishment, and then said, "Your daughter, Mrs. Neuchatel, ought to make an alliance which wouldplace her at the head of society. "

"What a fearful destiny, " said Mrs. Neuchatel, "for any one, butoverwhelming for one who must feel the whole time that she occupies aposition not acquired by her personal qualities!"

"Adriana is pretty, " said Lady Montfort. "I think her more than pretty;she is highly accomplished and in every way pleasing. What can youmean, then, my dear madam, by supposing she would occupy a position notacquired by her personal qualities?"

Mrs. Neuchatel sighed and shook her head, and then said, "We need nothave any controversy on this subject. I have no reason to believe thereis any foundation for my fears. We all like and admire Lord Roehampton. It is impossible not to admire and like him. So great a man, and yet sogentle and so kind, so unaffected--I would say, so unsophisticated; buthe has never given the slightest intimation, either to me or her father, that he seriously admired Adriana, and I am sure if he had said anythingto her she would have told us. "

"He is always here, " said Lady Montfort, "and he is a man who used to gonowhere except for form. Besides, I know that he admires her, that he isin love with her, and I have not a doubt that he has invited himself toHainault in order to declare his feelings to her. "

"How very dreadful!" exclaimed Mrs. Neuchatel. "What are we to do?"

"To do!" said Lady Montfort; "why, sympathise with his happiness, andcomplete it. You will have a son-in-law of whom you may well be proud, and Adriana a husband who, thoroughly knowing the world, and women, andhimself, will be devoted to her; will be a guide and friend, a guidethat will never lecture, and a friend who will always charm, for thereis no companion in the world like him, and I think I ought to know, "added Lady Montfort, "for I always tell him that I was the last of hisconquests, and I shall ever be grateful to him for his having spared tome so much of his society. "

"Adriana on this matter will decide for herself, " said Mrs. Neuchatel, in a serious tone, and with a certain degree of dignity. "Neither Mr. Neuchatel, nor myself, have ever attempted to control her feelings inthis respect. "

"Well, I am now about to see Adriana, " said Lady Montfort; "I know sheis at home. If I had not been obliged to go to Princedown, I would haveasked you to let me pass Easter at Hainault myself. "

On this very afternoon, when Myra, who had been walking in Regent's Parkwith her brother, returned home, she found Adriana agitated, and reallyin tears. 

"What is all this, dearest?" inquired her friend. 

"I am too unhappy, " sobbed Adriana, and then she told Myra that she hadhad a visit from Lady Montfort, and all that had occurred in it. LadyMontfort had absolutely congratulated her on her approaching alliancewith Lord Roehampton, and when she altogether disclaimed it, andexpressed her complete astonishment at the supposition, Lady Montforthad told her she was not justified in giving Lord Roehampton somuch encouragement and trifling with a man of his high character andposition. 

"Fancy my giving encouragement to Lord Roehampton!" exclaimed Adriana, and she threw her arms round the neck of the friend who was to consoleher. 

"I agree with Lady Montfort, " said Myra, releasing herself withgentleness from her distressed friend. "It may have been unconsciouslyon your part, but I think you have encouraged Lord Roehampton. He isconstantly conversing with you, and he is always here, where he neverwas before, and, as Lady Montfort says, why should he have asked himselfto pass the Easter at Hainault if it were not for your society?"

"He invited himself to Hainault, because he is so fond of papa, " saidAdriana. 

"So much the better, if he is to be your husband. That will be anadditional element of domestic happiness. "

"O Myra! that you should say such things!" exclaimed Adriana. 

"What things?"

"That I should marry Lord Roehampton. "

"I never said anything of the kind. Whom you should marry is a questionyou must decide for yourself. All that I said was, that if you marryLord Roehampton, it is fortunate he is so much liked by Mr. Neuchatel. "

"I shall not marry Lord Roehampton, " said Adriana with somedetermination, "and if he has condescended to think of marrying me, " shecontinued, "as Lady Montfort says, I think his motives are soobvious that if I felt for him any preference it would be immediatelyextinguished. "

"Ah! now you are going to ride your hobby, my dear Adriana. On thatsubject we never can agree; were I an heiress, I should have as littleobjection to be married for my fortune as my face. Husbands, as I haveheard, do not care for the latter too long. Have more confidence inyourself, Adriana. If Lord Roehampton wishes to marry you, it is that heis pleased with you personally, that he appreciates your intelligence, your culture, your accomplishments, your sweet disposition, and yourgentle nature. If in addition to these gifts you have wealth, and evengreat wealth, Lord Roehampton will not despise it, will not--for Iwish to put it frankly--be uninfluenced by the circumstances, for LordRoehampton is a wise man; but he would not marry you if he did notbelieve that you would make for him a delightful companion in life, thatyou would adorn his circle and illustrate his name. "

"Ah! I see you are all in the plot against me, " said Adriana. "I have nofriend. "

"My dear Adriana, I think you are unreasonable; I could say evenunkind. "

"Oh! pardon me, dear Myra, " said Adriana, "but I really am so veryunhappy. "

"About what? You are your own mistress in this matter. If you do notlike to marry Lord Roehampton, nobody will attempt to control you. Whatdoes it signify what Lady Montfort says? or anybody else, except yourown parents, who desire nothing but your happiness? I should never havementioned Lord Roehampton to you had you not introduced the subjectyourself. And all that I meant to say was, what I repeat, that yourcreed that no one can wish to marry you except for your wealth is amorbid conviction, and must lead to unhappiness; that I do not believethat Lord Roehampton is influenced in his overture, if he make one, byany unworthy motive, and that any woman whose heart is disengaged shouldnot lightly repudiate such an advance from such a man, by which, at allevents, she should feel honoured. "

"But my heart is engaged, " said Adriana in an almost solemn tone. 

"Oh! that is quite a different thing!" said Myra, turning pale. 

"Yes!" said Adriana; "I am devoted to one whose name I cannot nowmention, perhaps will never mention, but I am devoted to him. Yes!"she added with fire, "I am not altogether so weak a thing as the LadyMontforts and some other persons seem to think me--I can feel and decidefor myself, and it shall never be said of me that I purchased love. "

CHAPTER XLIV

There was to be no great party at Hainault; Lord Roehampton particularlywished that there should be no fine folks asked, and especially noambassadors. All that he wanted was to enjoy the fresh air, and toramble in the forest, of which he had heard so much, with the youngladies. 

"And, by the by, Miss Ferrars, " said Mr. Neuchatel, "we must let whatwe were talking about the other day drop. Adriana has been with me quiteexcited about something Lady Montfort said to her. I soothed her andassured her she should do exactly as she liked, and that neither I norher mother had any other wishes on such a subject than her own. The factis, I answered Lady Montfort originally only half in earnest. If thething might have happened, I should have been content--but it reallynever rested on my mind, because such matters must always originate withmy daughter. Unless they come from her, with me they are mere fancies. But now I want you to help me in another matter, if not more grave, morebusinesslike. My lord must be amused, although it is a family party. He likes his rubber; that we can manage. But there must be two or threepersons that he is not accustomed to meet, and yet who will interesthim. Now, do you know, Miss Ferrars, whom I think of asking?"

"Not I, my dear sir. "

"What do you think of the colonel?" said Mr. Neuchatel, looking in herface with a rather laughing eye. 

"Well, he is very agreeable, " said Myra, "and many would thinkinteresting, and if Lord Roehampton does not know him, I think he woulddo very well. "

"Well, but Lord Roehampton knows all about him, " said Mr. Neuchatel. 

"Well, that is an advantage, " said Myra. 

"I do not know, " said Mr. Neuchatel. "Life is a very curious thing, eh, Miss Ferrars? One cannot ask one person to meet another even in one'sown home, without going through a sum of moral arithmetic. "

"Is it so?" said Myra. 

"Well, Miss Ferrars, " said Mr. Neuchatel, "I want your advice and I wantyour aid; but then it is a long story, at which I am rather a bad hand, "and Mr. Neuchatel hesitated. "You know, " he said, suddenly resuming, "you once asked me who Colonel Albert was. "

"But I do not ask you now, " said Myra, "because I know. "

"Hah, hah!" exclaimed Mr. Neuchatel, much surprised. 

"And what you want to know is, " continued Myra, "whether Lord Roehamptonwould have any objection to meet Prince Florestan?"

"That is something; but that is comparatively easy. I think I can managethat. But when they meet--that is the point. But, in the first place, I should like very much to know how you became acquainted with thesecret. "

"In a very natural way; my brother was my information, " she replied. 

"Ah! now you see, " continued Mr. Neuchatel, with a serious air, "a wordfrom Lord Roehampton in the proper quarter might be of vast importanceto the prince. He has a large inheritance, and he has been kept out ofit unjustly. Our house has done what we could for him, for his mother, Queen Agrippina, was very kind to my father, and the house of Neuchatelnever forgets its friends. But we want something else, we want theBritish Government to intimate that they will not disapprove of therestitution of the private fortune of the prince. I have felt my waywith the premier; he is not favourable; he is prejudiced against theprince; and so is the cabinet generally; and yet all difficulties wouldvanish at a word from Lord Roehampton. "

"Well, this is a good opportunity for you to speak to him, " said Myra. 

"Hem!" said Mr. Neuchatel, "I am not so sure about that. I like LordRoehampton, and, between ourselves, I wish he were first minister. Heunderstands the Continent, and would keep things quiet. But, do youknow, Miss Ferrars, with all his playful, good-tempered manner, as if hecould not say a cross word or do an unkind act, he is a very severe manin business. Speak to him on business, and he is completely changed. His brows knit, he penetrates you with the terrible scrutiny of thatdeep-set eye; he is more than stately, he is austere. I have been up tohim with deputations--the Governor of the Bank, and all the first men inthe City, half of them M. P. S, and they trembled before him like aspens. No, it will not do for me to speak to him, it will spoil his visit. Ithink the way will be this; if he has no objection to meet the prince, we must watch whether the prince makes a favourable impression on him, and if that is the case, and Lord Roehampton likes him, what we must donext is this--_you_ must speak to Lord Roehampton. "

"I!"

"Yes, Miss Ferrars, you. Lord Roehampton likes ladies. He is neveraustere to them, even if he refuses their requests, and sometimes hegrants them. I thought first of Mrs. Neuchatel speaking to him, but mywife will never interfere in anything in which money is concerned; thenI thought Adriana might express a hope when they were walking in thegarden, but now that is all over; and so you alone remain. I have greatconfidence in you, " added Mr. Neuchatel, "I think you would do it verywell. Besides, my lord rather likes you, for I have observed him oftengo and sit by you at parties, at our house. "

"Yes, he is very high-bred in that, " said Myra, gravely and rathersadly; "and the fact of my being a dependent, I have no doubt, influences him. "

"We are all dependents in this house, " said Mr. Neuchatel with hissweetest smile; "and I depend upon Miss Ferrars. "

Affairs on the whole went on in a promising manner. The weather wasdelightful, and Lord Roehampton came down to Hainault just in time fordinner, the day after their arrival, and in the highest spirits. Heseemed to be enjoying a real holiday; body and mind were in a like stateof expansion; he was enchanted with the domain; he was delighted withthe mansion, everything pleased and gratified him, and he pleased andgratified everybody. The party consisted only of themselves, except oneof the nephews, with whom indeed Lord Roehampton was already acquainted;a lively youth, a little on the turf, not too much, and this suited LordRoehampton, who was a statesman of the old aristocratic school, stillbred horses, and sometimes ran one, and in the midst of an Europeancrisis could spare an hour to Newmarket. Perhaps it was his onlyaffectation. 

Mrs. Neuchatel, by whom he was seated, had the happy gift ofconversation; but the party was of that delightful dimension, that itpermitted talk to be general. Myra sate next to Lord Roehampton, andhe often addressed her. He was the soul of the feast, and yet it isdifficult to describe his conversation; it was a medley of gracefulwhim, interspersed now and then with a very short anecdote of a veryfamous person, or some deeply interesting reminiscence of some criticalevent. Every now and then he appealed to Adriana, who sate opposite tohim in the round table, and she trusted that her irrepressible smileswould not be interpreted into undue encouragement. 

Lord Roehampton had no objection to meet Prince Florestan, providedthere were no other strangers, and the incognito was observed. He ratherwelcomed the proposal, observing he liked to know public men personally;so, you can judge of their calibre, which you never can do from booksand newspapers, or the oral reports of their creatures or their enemies. And so on the next day Colonel Albert was expected. 

Lord Roehampton did not appear till luncheon; he had received so manyboxes from Downing Street which required his attention. "Business willfollow one, " he said; "yesterday I thought I had baffled it. I do notlike what I shall do without my secretaries. I think I shall get youyoung ladies to assist me. "

"You cannot have better secretaries, " said Mr. Neuchatel; "Miss Ferrarsoften helps me. "

Then what was to be done after luncheon? Would he ride, or would hedrive? And where should they drive and ride to? But Lord Roehampton didnot much care to drive, and was tired of riding. He would rather walkand ramble about Hainault. He wanted to see the place, and the forestand the fern, and perhaps hear one of those nightingales that they hadtalked of in Portland Place. But Mrs. Neuchatel did not care to walk, and Mr. Neuchatel, though it was a holiday in the City, had a great manyletters to write, and so somehow or other it ended in Lord Roehamptonand the two young ladies walking out together, and remaining so longand so late, that Mrs. Neuchatel absolutely contemplated postponing thedinner hour. 

"We shall just be in time, dear Mrs. Neuchatel, " said Myra; "LordRoehampton has gone up to his rooms. We have heard a nightingale, andLord Roehampton insisted upon our sitting on the trunk of a tree till itceased--and it never ceased. "

Colonel Albert, who had arrived, was presented to Lord Roehampton beforedinner. Lord Roehampton received him with stately courtesy. As Myrawatched, not without interest, the proceeding, she could scarcelybelieve, as she marked the lofty grace and somewhat haughty mien of LordRoehampton, that it could be the same being of frolic and fancy, andeven tender sentiment, with whom she had been passing the precedinghours. 

Colonel Albert sate next to Myra at dinner, and Lord Roehampton betweenMrs. Neuchatel and her daughter. His manner was different to-day, notless pleased and pleasing, but certainly more restrained. He encouragedMrs. Neuchatel to occupy the chief part in conversation, and whisperedto Adriana, who became somewhat uneasy; but the whispers mainlyconsisted of his delight in their morning adventures. When he remarkedthat it was one of the most agreeable days of his life, she became alittle alarmed. Then he addressed Colonel Albert across the table, andsaid that he had heard from Mr. Neuchatel that the colonel had been inAmerica, and asked some questions about public men, which brought himout. Colonel Albert answered with gentleness and modesty, never at anylength, but in language which indicated, on all the matters referred to, thought and discrimination. 

"I suppose their society is like the best society in Manchester?" saidLord Roehampton. 

"It varies in different cities, " said Colonel Albert. "In some there isconsiderable culture, and then refinement of life always follows. "

"Yes, but whatever they may be, they will always be colonial. Whatis colonial necessarily lacks originality. A country that borrows itslanguage, its laws, and its religion, cannot have its inventive powersmuch developed. They got civilised very soon, but their civilisation wassecond-hand. "

"Perhaps their inventive powers may develop themselves in other ways, "said the prince. "A nation has a fixed quantity of invention, and itwill make itself felt. "

"At present, " said Lord Roehampton, "the Americans, I think, employtheir invention in imaginary boundary lines. They are giving us plentyof trouble now about Maine. "

After dinner they had some music; Lord Roehampton would not play whist. He insisted on comparing the voices of his companions with that of thenightingales of the morning. He talked a great deal to Adriana, andColonel Albert, in the course of the evening much to Myra, and about herbrother. Lord Roehampton more than once had wished to tell her, as hehad already told Miss Neuchatel, how delightful had been their morning;but on every occasion he had found her engaged with the colonel. 

"I rather like your prince, " he had observed to Mr. Neuchatel, as theycame from the dining-room. "He never speaks without thinking; veryreserved, I apprehend. They say, an inveterate conspirator. "

"He has had enough of that, " said Mr. Neuchatel. "I believe he wants tobe quiet. "

"That class of man is never quiet, " said Lord Roehampton. 

"But what can he do?" said Mr. Neuchatel. 

"What can he not do? Half Europe is in a state of chronic conspiracy. "

"You must keep us right, my dear lord. So long as you are in DowningStreet I shall sleep at nights. "

"Miss Ferrars, " said Lord Roehampton abruptly to Mr. Neuchatel, "musthave been the daughter of William Ferrars, one of my great friends inold days. I never knew it till to-day, and she did not tell me, but itflashed across me from something she said. "

"Yes, she is his daughter, and is in mourning for him at this moment. She has had sorrows, " said Mr. Neuchatel. "I hope they have ceased. Itwas one of the happiest days of my life when she entered this family. "

"Ah!" said Lord Roehampton. 

The next day, after they had examined the famous stud and stables, therewas a riding party, and in the evening Colonel Albert offered to performsome American conjuring tricks, of which he had been speaking in thecourse of the day. This was a most wonderful performance, and surprisedand highly amused everybody. Colonel Albert was the last person who theyexpected would achieve such marvels; he was so quiet, not to say grave. They could hardly credit that he was the same person as he poured floodsof flowers over Myra from her own borrowed pocket-handkerchief, andwithout the slightest effort or embarrassment, robbed Lord Roehampton ofhis watch, and deposited it in Adriana's bosom. It was evident that hewas a complete master of slight-of-hand. 

"Characteristic!" murmured Lord Roehampton to himself. 

It was the day after this, that Myra being in the music room and alone, Lord Roehampton opened the door, looked in, and then said, "Where isMiss Neuchatel?"

"I think she is on the terrace. "

"Let us try to find her, and have one of our pleasant strolls. I sadlywant one, for I have been working very hard all this morning, and halfthe night. "

"I will be with you, Lord Roehampton, in a moment. "

"Do not let us have anybody else, " he said, as she left the room. 

They were soon on the terrace, but Adriana was not there. 

"We must find her, " said Lord Roehampton; "you know her haunts. Ah! whata delight it is to be in this air and this scene after those dreadfulboxes! I wish they would turn us out. I think they must soon. "

"Now for the first time, " said Myra, "Lord Roehampton is not sincere. "

"Then you think me always sincere?" he replied. 

"I have no reason to think you otherwise. "

"That is very true, " said Lord Roehampton, "truer perhaps than youimagine. " Then rather abruptly he said, "You know Colonel Albert verywell?"

"Pretty well. I have seen him here frequently, and he is also a friendof my brother. "

"Ah! a friend of your brother. " Then, after a slight pause, he said, "Heis an interesting man. "

"I think so, " said Myra. "You know all about him, of course. "

"Very good-looking. "

"Well, he looks unhappy, I think, and worn. "

"One is never worn when one is young, " said Lord Roehampton. 

"He must have great anxieties and great sorrows, " said Myra. "I cannotimagine a position more unfortunate than that of an exiled prince. "

"I can, " said Lord Roehampton. "To have the feelings of youth and theframe of age. "

Myra was silent, one might say dumbfounded. She had just screwed herselfup to the task which Mr. Neuchatel had imposed on her, and was about toappeal to the good offices of Lord Roehampton in favour of the prince, when he had indulged in a remark which was not only somewhat strange, but from the manner in which it was introduced hardly harmonised withher purpose. 

"Yes, I would give up everything, " said Lord Roehampton. "I would evenbe an exile to be young; to hear that Miss Ferrars deems me interestingand good-looking, though worn. "

"What is going to happen?" thought Myra. "Will the earth open to receiveme?"

"You are silent, " said Lord Roehampton. "You will not speak, you willnot sigh, you will not give a glance of consolation or even pity. But Ihave spoken too much not to say more. Beautiful, fascinating being, letme at least tell you of my love. "

Myra could not speak, but put her left hand to her face. Gently takingher other hand, Lord Roehampton pressed it to his lips. "From the firstmoment I met you, my heart was yours. It was love at first sight; indeedI believe in no other. I was amused with the projects of my friend, and I availed myself of them, but not unfairly. No one can accuse me oftrifling with the affections of your sweet companion, and I must doher the justice to say that she did everything to convince me that sheshrank from my attentions. But her society was an excuse to enjoy yours. I was an habitual visitor in town that I might cherish my love, and, dare I say it, I came down here to declare it. Do not despise it, dearest of women; it is not worthy of you, but it is not altogetherundeserving. It is, as you kindly believed it, --it is sincere!"

CHAPTER XLV

On the following day, Mr. Neuchatel had good-naturedly invited Endymiondown to Hainault, and when he arrived there, a servant informed him thatMiss Ferrars wished to see him in her room. 

It was a long interview and an agitated one, and when she had told hertale, and her brother had embraced her, she sat for a time in silence, holding his hand, and intimating, that, for a while, she wished thatneither of them should speak. Suddenly, she resumed, and said, "Now youknow all, dear darling; it is so sudden, and so strange, that you mustbe almost as much astounded as gratified. What I have sighed for, and prayed for--what, in moments of inspiration, I have sometimesforeseen--has happened. Our degradation is over. I seem to breathe forthe first time for many years. I see a career, ay, and a great one; andwhat is far more important, I see a career for you. "

"At this moment, dear Myra, think only of yourself. "

"You are myself, " she replied, rather quickly, "never more so than atthis moment;" and then she said in a tone more subdued, and even tender, "Lord Roehampton has every quality and every accident of life that Idelight in; he has intellect, eloquence, courage, great station andpower; and, what I ought perhaps more to consider, though I do not, a sweet disposition and a tender heart. There is every reason why weshould be happy--yes, very happy. I am sure I shall sympathise with him;perhaps, I may aid him; at least, he thinks so. He is the noblestof men. The world will talk of the disparity of our years; but LordRoehampton says that he is really the younger of the two, and I think heis right. My pride, my intense pride, never permitted to me any levityof heart. "

"And when is it to happen?" inquired Endymion. 

"Not immediately. I could not marry till a year had elapsed after ourgreat sorrow; and it is more agreeable, even to him, that our unionshould be delayed till the session is over. He wants to leave England;go abroad; have a real holiday. He has always had a dream of travellingin Spain; well, we are to realise the dream. If we could get off at theend of July, we might go to Paris, and then to Madrid, and travel inAndalusia in the autumn, and then catch the packet at Gibraltar, and gethome just in time for the November cabinets. "

"Dear Myra! how wonderful it all seems!" involuntarily exclaimedEndymion. 

"Yes, but more wonderful things will happen. We have now got a leverto move the world. Understand, my dear Endymion, that nothing is tobe announced at present. It will be known only to this family, and thePenruddocks. I am bound to tell them, even immediately; they are friendsthat never can be forgotten. I have always kept up my correspondencewith Mrs. Penruddock. Besides, I shall tell her in confidence, and sheis perfectly to be depended on. I am going to ask my lord to let Mr. Penruddock marry us. "

"Oh! that will be capital, " said Endymion. 

"There is another person, by the by, who must know it, at least my lordsays so, " said Myra, "and that is Lady Montfort; you have heard of thatlady and her plans. Well, she must be told--at least, sooner or later. She will be annoyed, and she will hate me. I cannot help it; every oneis hated by somebody. "

During the three months that had to elapse before the happy day, severalincidents occurred that ought to be noted. In the first place, LadyMontfort, though disappointed and very much astonished, bore thecommunication from Lord Roehampton more kindly than he had anticipated. Lord Roehampton made it by letter, and his letters to women were morehappy even than his despatches to ministers, and they were unrivalled. He put the matter in the most skilful form. Myra had been born in asocial position not inferior to his own, and was the daughter of one ofhis earliest political friends. He did not dilate too much on her charmsand captivating qualities, but sufficiently for the dignity of herwho was to become his wife. And then he confessed to Lady Montfort howcompletely his heart and happiness were set on Lady Roehampton beingwelcomed becomingly by his friends; he was well aware, that in thesematters things did not always proceed as one could wish, but this wasthe moment, and this the occasion, to test a friend, and he believed hehad the dearest, the most faithful, the most fascinating, and the mostpowerful in Lady Montfort. 

"Well, we must put the best face upon it, " exclaimed that lady; "he wasalways romantic. But, as he says, or thinks, what is the use of friendsif they do not help you in a scrape?"

So Lady Montfort made the acquaintance of Myra, and welcomed hernew acquaintance cordially. She was too fine a judge of beauty anddeportment not to appreciate them, even when a little prejudice lurkedbehind. She was amused also, and a little gratified, by being in thesecret; presented Myra with a rare jewel, and declared that she shouldattend the wedding; though when the day arrived, she was at Princedown, and could not, unfortunately, leave her lord. 

About the end of June, a rather remarkable paragraph appeared in thejournal of society:

"We understand that His Royal Highness Prince Florestan, who has beenfor some little time in this country, has taken the mansion in CarltonGardens, recently occupied by the Marquis of Katterfelto. The mansion isundergoing very considerable repairs, but it is calculated that it willbe completed in time for the reception of His Royal Highness by theend of the autumn; His Royal Highness has taken the extensive moors ofDinniewhiskie for the coming season. "

In the earlier part of July, the approaching alliance of the Earlof Roehampton with Miss Ferrars, the only daughter of the late RightHonourable William Pitt Ferrars, of Hurstley Hall, in the county ofBerks, was announced, and great was the sensation, and innumerable thepresents instantly ordered. 

But on no one did the announcement produce a greater effect thanon Zenobia; that the daughter of her dearest friend should makeso interesting and so distinguished an alliance was naturally mostgratifying to her. She wrote to Myra a most impassioned letter, as ifthey had only separated yesterday, and a still longer and more ferventone to Lord Roehampton; Zenobia and he had been close friends in otherdays, till he wickedly changed his politics, and was always in officeand Zenobia always out. This was never to be forgiven. But the brightlady forgot all this now, and sent to Myra the most wondrous braceletof precious stones, in which the word "Souvenir" was represented inbrilliants, rubies, and emeralds. 

"For my part, " said Myra to Endymion, "my most difficult task arethe bridesmaids. I am to have so many, and know so few. I feel like arecruiting sergeant. I began to Adriana, but my lord helps me very muchout of his family, and says, when we have had a few family dinners, allwill be right. "

Endymion did not receive the banter he expected at the office. The eventwas too great for a jest. Seymour Hicks, with a serious countenance, said Ferrars might get anywhere now, --all the ministerial receptions ofcourse. Jawett said there would be no ministerial receptions soon;they were degrading functions. Clear-headed Trenchard congratulated himquietly, and said, "I do not think you will stay much longer among us, but we shall always remember you with interest. "

At last the great day arrived, and at St. George's, Hanover Square, the Right Honourable the Earl of Roehampton, K. G. , was united to MissFerrars. Mr. Penruddock joined their hands. His son Nigel had beeninvited to assist him, but did not appear, though Myra had written tohim. The great world assembled in force, and Endymion observed Mr. AndMrs. Rodney and Imogene in the body of the church. After the ceremonythere was an entertainment in Portland Place, and the world ateortolans and examined the presents. These were remarkable for number andsplendour. Myra could not conceal her astonishment at possessing so manyfriends; but it was the fashion for all Lord Roehampton's acquaintanceto make him offerings, and to solicit his permission to present giftsto his bride. Mr. Neuchatel placed on her brow a diamond tiara, andMrs. Neuchatel encircled her neck with one of her diamond necklaces. "I should like to give the other one to Adriana, " she observed, "butAdriana says that nothing will ever induce her to wear jewels. " PrinceFlorestan presented Lady Roehampton with a vase which had belonged tohis mother, and which had been painted by Boucher for Marie Antoinette. It was matchless, and almost unique. 

Not long after this, Lord Beaumaris, with many servants and many guns, took Waldershare and Endymion down with him to Scotland. 

CHAPTER XLVI

The end of the season is a pang to society. More hopes have been baffledthan realised. There is something melancholy in the last ball, thoughthe music ever seems louder, and the lights more glaring than usual. Orit may be, the last entertainment is that hecatomb they call a weddingbreakfast, which celebrates the triumph of a rival. That is pleasant. Society, to do it justice, struggles hard to revive in other scenes theexcitement that has expired. It sails to Cowes, it scuds to bubblingwaters in the pine forests of the continent, it stalks even intoScotland; but it is difficult to restore the romance that has beenrudely disturbed, and to gather again together the threads of theintrigue that have been lost in the wild flight of society from thatmetropolis, which is now described as "a perfect desert"--that is tosay, a park or so, two or three squares, and a dozen streets wheresociety lives; where it dines, and dances, and blackballs, and bets, andspouts. 

But to the world in general, the mighty million, to the professionalclasses, to all men of business whatever, the end of the season is thebeginning of carnival. It is the fulfilment of the dream over which theyhave been brooding for ten months, which has sustained them in toil, lightened anxiety, and softened even loss. It is air, it is health, it is movement, it is liberty, it is nature--earth, sea, lake, moor, forest, mountain, and river. From the heights of the Engadine toMargate Pier, there is equal rapture, for there is an equal cessation ofroutine. 

Few enjoy a holiday more than a young clerk in a public office, who hasbeen bred in a gentle home, and enjoyed in his boyhood all the pastimesof gentlemen. Now he is ever toiling, with an uncertain prospect ofannual relaxation, and living hardly. Once on a time, at the paternalhall, he could shoot, or fish, or ride, every day of his life, as amatter of course; and now, what would he not give for a good day'ssport? Such thoughts had frequently crossed the mind of Endymion whendrudging in London during the autumn, and when all his few acquaintanceswere away. It was, therefore, with no ordinary zest that he lookedforward to the unexpected enjoyment of an unstinted share of some of thebest shooting in the United Kingdom. And the relaxation and thepastime came just at the right moment, when the reaction, from all theexcitement attendant on the marvellous change in his sister's position, would have made him, deprived of her consoling society, doubly sensibleof his isolated position. 

It so happened that the moors of Lord Beaumaris were contiguous tothe celebrated shootings of Dinniewhiskie, which were rented by PrinceFlorestan, and the opportunity now offered which Waldershare desiredof making the acquaintance of the prince in an easy manner. Endymionmanaged this cleverly. Waldershare took a great fancy to the prince. He sympathised with him, and imparted to Endymion his belief that theycould not do a better thing than devote their energies to a restorationof his rights. Lord Beaumaris, who hated foreigners, but who was alwaysinfluenced by Waldershare, also liked the prince, and was glad to bereminded by his mentor that Florestan was half an Englishman, not to saya whole one, for he was an Eton boy. What was equally influentialwith Lord Beaumaris was, that the prince was a fine shot, and indeed aconsummate sportsman, and had in his manners that calm which is ratherunusual with foreigners, and which is always pleasing to an Englisharistocrat. So in time they became intimate, sported much together, andvisited each other at their respective quarters. The prince was neveralone. What the county paper described as distinguished foreigners wereperpetually paying him visits, long or short, and it did not generallyappear that these visits were influenced by a love of sport. Oneindividual, who arrived shortly after the prince, remained, and, as wassoon known, was to remain permanently. This was a young gentleman, shortand swarthy, with flashing eyes and a black moustache, known by thename of the Duke of St. Angelo, but who was really only a cadet of thatillustrious house. The Duke of St. Angelo took the management of thehousehold of the prince--was evidently the controller; servants trembledat his nod, and he rode any horse he liked; he invited guests, andarranged the etiquette of the interior. He said one day very coolly toWaldershare: "I observe that Lord Beaumaris and his friends never risewhen the prince moves. "

"Why should we?"

"His rank is recognised and guaranteed by the Treaty of Vienna, " saidthe Duke of St. Angelo, with an arrogant air. 

"His princely rank, " replied Waldershare, "but not his royalty. "

"That is a mere refinement, " said the duke contemptuously. 

"On the contrary, a clear distinction, and specifically made in thetreaty. I do not think the prince himself would desire such a ceremony, and let me recommend you, duke, " added Waldershare, "not to go out ofyour way to insist on these points. They will not increase the prince'spopularity. "

"The time will come, and before long, when the Treaty of Vienna, withits clear distinctions, will be at the bottom of the Red Sea, " said theDuke of St. Angelo, "and then no one will sit when His Majesty rises. "

"Amen!" said Waldershare. "All diplomacy since the Treaty of Utrechtseems to me to be fiddle-faddle, and the country rewarded the great manwho made that treaty by an attainder. "

Endymion returned to town towards the end of September, Waldershare wentto Paris, and Lord Beaumaris and the prince, who had become intimate, repaired together to Conington, the seat of Lord Beaumaris, to killpheasants. Even the Rodneys, who had gone to the Rhine this year, hadnot returned. Endymion had only the society of his fellow clerks. Heliked Trenchard, who was acute, full of official information, and ofgentle breeding. Still it must be confessed that Endymion felt thechange in his society. Seymour Hicks was hardly a fit successorto Waldershare, and Jawett's rabid abstractions on government werecertainly not so interesting as _la haute politique_ of the Duke of St. Angelo. Were it not for the letters which he constantly received fromhis sister, he would have felt a little despondent. As it was, herenewed his studies in his pleasant garret, trained himself in Frenchand German, and got up several questions for the Union. 

The month seemed very long, but it was not unprofitably spent. TheRodneys were still absent. They had not returned as they had intendeddirect to England, but had gone to Paris to meet Mr. Waldershare. 

At the end of October there was a semi-official paragraph announcing theapproaching meeting of the Cabinet, and the movements of its members. Some were in the north, and some were in the south; some were killingthe last grouse, and some, placed in green ridings, were blazing inbattues. But all were to be at their post in ten days, and there was aspecial notification that intelligence had been received of the arrivalof Lord and Lady Roehampton at Gibraltar. 

CHAPTER XLVII

Lady Roehampton, in her stately mansion in St. James' Square, found lifevery different from what she had experienced in her Andalusian dream. For three months she had been the constant companion of one of the mostfascinating of men, whose only object had been to charm and delight her. And in this he had entirely succeeded. From the moment they arrived inLondon, however, they seemed to be separated, and although when theymet, there was ever a sweet smile and a kind and playful word for her, his brow, if not oppressed with care, was always weighty with thought. Lord Roehampton was little at his office; he worked in a spaciouschamber on the ground floor of his private residence, and which wascalled the Library, though its literature consisted only of Hansard, volumes of state papers, shelves of treatises, and interminable foliosof parliamentary reports. He had not been at home a week before thefloor of the apartment was literally covered with red boxes, allcontaining documents requiring attention, and which messengers wereperpetually bringing or carrying away. Then there were long meetings ofthe Cabinet almost daily, and daily visits from ambassadors and foreignministers, which prevented the transaction of the current business, andrendered it necessary that Lord Roehampton should sit up late in hiscabinet, and work sometimes nearly till the hours of dawn. There hadbeen of course too some arrears of business, for secretaries of statecannot indulge with impunity in Andalusian dreams, but Lord Roehamptonwas well served. His under-secretaries of state were capable andexperienced men, and their chief had not been altogether idle in hiswanderings. He had visited Paris, and the capital of France in thosedays was the capital of diplomacy. The visit of Lord Roehampton hadsettled some questions which might have lingered for years, and hadgiven him that opportunity of personal survey which to a statesman isinvaluable. 

Although it was not the season, the great desert had, comparativelyspeaking, again become peopled. There were many persons in town, andthey all called immediately on Lady Roehampton. The ministerial familiesand the diplomatic corps alone form a circle, but there is also acertain number of charming people who love London in November, and leadthere a wondrous pleasant life of real amusement, until their feudaltraditions and their domestic duties summon them back to their Christmashomes. 

Lord and Lady Roehampton gave constant dinners, and after they had triedtwo or three, he expressed his wish to his wife that she should hold asmall reception after these dinners. He was a man of great tact, and hewished to launch his wife quietly and safely on the social ocean. "Thereis nothing like practising before Christmas, my love, " he would say;"you will get your hand in, and be able to hold regular receptions inthe spring. " And he was quite right. The dinners became the mode, andthe assemblies were eagerly appreciated. The Secretary of the Treasurywhispered to an Under-Secretary of State, --"This marriage was a _coup_. We have got another house. "

Myra had been a little anxious about the relations between LordRoehampton and her brother. She felt, with a woman's instinct, that herhusband might not be overpleased by her devotion to Endymion, and shecould not resist the conviction that the disparity of age which iseasily forgotten in a wife, and especially in a wife who adores you, assumes a different, and somewhat distasteful character, when agreat statesman is obliged to recognise it in the shape of a boyishbrother-in-law. But all went right, for the sweetness of LordRoehampton's temper was inexhaustible. Endymion had paid several visitsto St. James' square before Myra could seize the opportunity, for whichshe was ever watching, to make her husband and her brother acquainted. 

"And so you are one of us, " said Lord Roehampton, with his sweetestsmile and in his most musical tone, "and in office. We must try to giveyou a lift. " And then he asked Endymion who was his chief, and how heliked him, and then he said, "A good deal depends on a man's chief. Iwas under your grandfather when I first entered parliament, and I neverknew a pleasanter man to do business with. He never made difficulties;he always encouraged one. A younker likes that. "

Lady Roehampton was desirous of paying some attention to all those whohad been kind to her brother; particularly Mr. Waldershare and LordBeaumaris--and she wished to invite them to her house. "I am sureWaldershare would like to come, " said Endymion, "but Lord Beaumaris, I know, never goes anywhere, and I have myself heard him say he neverwould. "

"Yes, my lord was telling me Lord Beaumaris was quite _farouche_, and itis feared that we may lose him. That would be sad, " said Myra, "for heis powerful. "

"I should like very much if you could give me a card for Mr. Trenchard, "said Endymion; "he is not in society, but he is quite a gentleman. "

"You shall have it, my dear. I have always liked Mr. Trenchard, and Idare say, some day or other, he may be of use to you. "

The Neuchatels were not in town, but Myra saw them frequently, andMr. Neuchatel often dined in St. James' Square--but the ladies alwaysdeclined every invitation of the kind. They came up from Hainault to seeMyra, but looked as if nothing but their great affection would promptsuch a sacrifice, and seemed always pining for Arcadia. Endymion, however, not unfrequently continued his Sunday visits to Hainault, to which Mr. Neuchatel had given him a general welcome. This younggentleman, indeed, soon experienced a considerable change in his socialposition. Invitations flocked to him, and often from persons whom hedid not know, and who did not even know him. He went by the name of LadyRoehampton's brother, and that was a sufficient passport. 

"We are trying to get up a carpet dance to-night, " said Belinda to afair friend. "What men are in town?"

"Well, there is Mr. Waldershare, who has just left me. "

"I have asked him. 

"Then there is Lord Willesden and Henry Grantley--I know they arepassing through town--and there is the new man, Lady Roehampton'sbrother. "

"I will send to Lord Willesden and Henry Grantley immediately, andperhaps you will send a card, which I will write here, for me to the newman. "

And in this way Mr. Ferrars soon found that he was what is called"everywhere. "

One of the most interesting acquaintances that Lady Roehampton made wasa colleague of her husband, and that was Mr. Sidney Wilton, once theintimate friend of her father. He had known herself and her brother whenthey were children, indeed from the cradle. Mr. Sidney Wilton was in theperfection of middle life, and looked young for his years. He was talland pensive, and naturally sentimental, though a long political career, for he had entered the House of Commons for the family borough theinstant he was of age, had brought to this susceptibility a salutaryhardness. Although somewhat alienated from the friend of his youthby the course of affairs, for Mr. Sidney Wilton had followed LordRoehampton, while Mr. Ferrars had adhered to the Duke of Wellington, he had not neglected Ferrars in his fall, but his offers of assistance, frankly and generously made, had been coldly though courteouslyrejected, and no encouragement had been given to the maintenance oftheir once intimate acquaintance. 

Mr. Sidney Wilton was much struck by the appearance of Lady Roehampton. He tried to compare the fulfilment of her promise with the beautifuland haughty child whom he used to wonder her parents so extravagantlyspoiled. Her stature was above the average height of women and finelydeveloped and proportioned. But it was in the countenance--in thepellucid and commanding brow, the deep splendour of her dark blue eyessoftened by long lashes, her short upper lip, and the rich profusion ofher dark chestnut hair--that his roused memory recalled the past; and hefell into a mood of agitated contemplation. 

The opportunities which he enjoyed of cultivating her society werenumerous, and Mr. Wilton missed none. He was frequently her guest, andbeing himself the master of a splendid establishment, he could offerher a hospitality which every one appreciated. Lord Roehampton waspeculiarly his political chief, and they had always been sociallyintimate. As the trusted colleague of her husband--as one who had knownher in her childhood, and as himself a man singularly qualified, by hisagreeable conversation and tender and deferential manner, to make hisway with women--Mr. Sidney Wilton had no great difficulty, particularlyin that happy demi-season which precedes Christmas, in establishingrelations of confidence and intimacy with Lady Roehampton. 

The cabinets were over: the government had decided on their measures, and put them in a state of preparation, and they were about to dispersefor a month. The seat of Lord Roehampton was in the extreme northof England, and a visit to it was inconvenient at this moment, andespecially at this season. The department of Lord Roehampton was veryactive at this time, and he was unwilling that the first impression byhis wife of her future home should be experienced at a season littlefavourable to the charms of a northern seat. Mr. Sidney Wilton wasthe proprietor of the most beautiful and the most celebrated villa inEngland; only twenty miles from town, seated on a wooded crest ofthe swan-crowned Thames, with gardens of delight, and woods full ofpheasants, and a terrace that would have become a court, glancing over awide expanse of bower and glade, studded with bright halls and delicatesteeples, and the smoke of rural homes. 

It was arranged that Lord and Lady Roehampton should pass theirChristmas at Gaydene with Mr. Sidney Wilton, stay as long as they liked, go where they chose, but make it their headquarters. It was a mostsuccessful visit; for a great deal of business was done, as well aspleasure enjoyed. The ambassadors, who were always a little uneasy atChristmas when everybody is away, and themselves without country homes, were all invited down for that week. Lord Roehampton used to give themaudiences after the shooting parties. He thought it was a specificagainst their being too long. He used to say, "The first dinner-belloften brings things to a point. " After Christmas there was anever-varying stream of company, chiefly official and parliamentary. Thebanquet and the battue did not always settle the business, the clause, or the schedule, which the guests often came down to Gaydene ostensiblyto accomplish, but they sent men back to town with increased energy andgood humour, and kept the party in heart. Towards the end of the monththe premier came down, and for him the Blue Ribbon Covert had beenreserved, though he really cared little for sport. It was an eighteenthcentury tradition that knights of the garter only had been permitted toshoot this choice preserve, but Mr. Sidney Wilton, in this advanced age, did not of course revive such an ultra-exclusive practice, and he wasparticular in arranging the party to include Mr. Jorrocks. This wasa Radical member to whom considerable office had been given at thereconstruction of 1835, when it was necessary that the Whigs shouldconciliate the Mountain. He was a pretentious, underbred, half-educatedman, fluent with all the commonplaces of middle-class ambition, whichare humorously called democratic opinions, but at heart a sycophantof the aristocracy. He represented, however, a large and importantconstituency, and his promotion was at first looked upon as amasterpiece of management. The Mountain, who knew Jorrocks by heart, andfelt that they had in their ranks men in every sense his superior, andthat he could be no representative of their intelligence and opinions, and so by degrees prepare for their gradual admission to the sacredland, at first sulked over the promotion of their late companion, andonly did not publicly deride it from the feeling that by so doing theymight be playing the game of the ministry. At the time of which we arewriting, having become extremely discontented and wishing to annoythe government, they even affected dissatisfaction at the subordinateposition which Jorrocks occupied in the administration, and it wasgenerally said--had become indeed the slang of the party--that thetest of the sincerity of the ministry to Liberal principles was to putJorrocks in the cabinet. The countenance of the premier when thischoice programme was first communicated to him was what might havebeen expected had he learnt of the sudden descent upon this isle ofan invading force, and the Secretary of the Treasury whispered inconfidence to one or two leaders of the Mountain, "that if they did nottake care they would upset the government. "

"That is exactly what we want to do, " was the reply. 

So it will be seen that the position of the ministry, previous to themeeting of parliament in 1839, was somewhat critical. In the meantime, its various members, who knew their man, lavished every practicablesocial attention on Jorrocks. The dinners they gave him were doubled;they got their women to call on his women; and Sidney Wilton, a memberof an illustrious garter family, capped the climax by appointing him oneof the party to shoot the Blue Ribbon Covert. 

Mr. Wilton had invited Endymion to Gaydene, and, as his stay there couldonly be brief, had even invited him to repeat the visit. He was, indeed, unaffectedly kind to one whom he remembered so young, and was evidentlypleased with him. 

One evening, a day or two before the break-up of the party, while somecharming Misses Playfellow, with an impudent brother, who all livedin the neighbourhood, were acting charades, Mr. Wilton said to LadyRoehampton, by whose side he was sitting in the circle--

"I have had a very busy morning about my office. There is to be acomplete revolution in it. The whole system is to be reconstructed;half the present people are to be pensioned off, and new blood is to beintroduced. It struck me that this might be an opening for your brother. He is in the public service--that is something; and as there are to beso many new men, there will be no jealousy as to his promotion. If youwill speak to him about it, and he likes it, I will appoint him one ofthe new clerks; and then, if he also likes it, he shall be my privatesecretary. That will give him position, and be no mean addition tohis income, you know, if we last--but that depends, I suppose, on Mr. Jorrocks. "

Lady Roehampton communicated all this to her brother on her return toLondon. "It is exactly what I wished, " she said. "I wanted you to beprivate secretary to a cabinet minister, and if I were to choose anyone, except, of course, my lord, it would be Mr. Wilton. He is a perfectgentleman, and was dear papa's friend. I understand you will have threehundred a year to begin with, and the same amount as his secretary. You ought to be able to live with ease and propriety on six hundred ayear--and this reminds me of what I have been thinking of before we wentto Gaydene. I think now you ought to have a more becoming residence. TheRodneys are good people, I do not doubt, and I dare say we shall havean opportunity of proving our sense of their services; but they are notexactly the people that I care for you to live with, and, at any rate, you cannot reside any longer in a garret. I have taken some chambersin the Albany, therefore, for you, and they shall be my contribution toyour housekeeping. They are not badly furnished, but they belonged toan old general officer, and are not very new-fashioned; but we will gotogether and see them to-morrow, and I dare say I shall soon be able tomake them _comme il faut_. "

CHAPTER XLVIII

This considerable rise in the life of Endymion, after the firstexcitement occasioned by its announcement to him had somewhat subsided, was not contemplated by him with unmixed feelings of satisfaction. Itseemed to terminate many relations of life, the value of which he hadalways appreciated, but which now, with their impending conclusion, he felt, and felt keenly, had absolutely contributed to his happiness. There was no great pang in quitting his fellow-clerks, except Trenchard, whom he greatly esteemed. But poor little Warwick Street had been tohim a real home, if unvarying kindness, and sedulous attention, and theaffection of the eyes and heart, as well as of the mouth, can make ahearth. He hoped he might preserve the friendship of Waldershare, whichtheir joint intimacy with the prince would favour; but still he couldhardly flatter himself that the delightful familiarity of their pastlives could subsist. Endymion sighed, and then he sighed again. He feltsad. Because he was leaving the humble harbour of refuge, the entranceto which, even in the darkest hour of his fallen fortunes, was thoughtsomewhat of an indignity, and was about to assume a position which wouldnot have altogether misbecome the earliest expectations of his life?That seems unreasonable; but mankind, fortunately, are not alwaysgoverned by reason, but by sentiment, and often by very tendersentiment. 

When Endymion, sitting in his little room, analysed his feelings, hecame to the conclusion that his sadness was occasioned by his having topart from Imogene. It often requires an event in life, and an unexpectedone, to make us clearly aware of the existence of feelings whichhave long influenced us. Never having been in a position in which thepossibility of uniting his fate to another could cross his mind fora moment, he had been content with the good fortune which permitted alarge portion of his life to be passed in the society of a woman who, unconsciously both to him and to herself, had fascinated him. Thegraceful child who, four or five years ago, had first lit him to hisgarret, without losing any of her rare and simple ingenuousness, haddeveloped into a beautiful and accomplished woman. There was a strongresemblance between Imogene and her sister, but Imogene was a brunette. Her countenance indicated far more intellect and character than thatof Sylvia. Her brow was delicately pencilled and finely arched, and herlarge dark eyes gleamed with a softness and sweetness of expression, which were irresistibly attractive, and seemed to indicate sympathy witheverything that was good and beautiful. Her features were not so regularas her sister's; but when she smiled, her face was captivating. 

Endymion had often listened, half with fondness and half withscepticism, to Waldershare dilating, according to his wont, on the highcharacter and qualities of Imogene, whom he persisted in believing hewas preparing for a great career. "How it will come about I cannot say, "he would remark; "but it will come. If my legitimate sovereign were onthe throne, and I in the possession of my estates, which were graciouslypresented by the usurper to the sausage-makers, or some other choicemiddle-class corporation, I would marry her myself. But that isimpossible. That would only be asking her to share my ruin. I want herto live in palaces, and perhaps, in my decline of life, make me herlibrarian, like Casanova. I should be content to dine in her hallevery day beneath the salt, and see her enter with her state, amid theflourish of trumpets. " And now, strange to say, Endymion was speculatingon the fate of Imogene, and, as he thought, in a more practical spirit. Six hundred a year, he thought, was not a very large income; but it wasan income, and one which a year ago he never contemplated possessinguntil getting grey in the public service. Why not realise perfecthappiness at once? He could conceive no bliss greater than living withImogene in one of those little villas, even if semi-detached, whichnow are numbered by tens of thousands, and which were then beginningto shoot out their suburban antennae in every direction of our hugemetropolis. He saw her in his mind's eye in a garden of perpetualsunshine, breathing of mignonette and bright with roses, and waiting forhim as he came down from town and his daily labours, in the cheap andconvenient omnibus. What a delightful companion to welcome him! How muchto tell her, and how much to listen to! And then their evenings with adelicious book or some delightful music! What holidays, too, of romanticadventure! The vine-clad Rhine, perhaps Switzerland; at any rate, thequaint old cities of Flanders, and the winding valley of the Meuse. Theycould live extremely well on six hundred a year, yes, with all the realrefinements of existence. And all their genuine happiness was to besacrificed for utterly fantastic and imaginary gratifications, which, if analysed, would be found only to be efforts to amuse and astonishothers. 

It did not yet occur to Endymion that his garden could not always besunshiny; that cares crop up in villas, even semi-detached, as well asjoys; that he would have children, and perhaps too many; that theywould be sick, and that doctors' bills would soon put a stop to romanticexcursions; that his wife would become exhausted with nursing andclothing and teaching them; that she herself would become an invalid, and moped to death; that his resources would every day bear a lessproportion to his expenditure; and that wanting money, he would returntoo often from town a harassed husband to a jaded wife!

Mr. Rodney and Sylvia were at Conington on a visit to Lord Beaumaris, hunting. It was astonishing how Sylvia had ridden to the hounds, mountedon the choicest steeds, and in a scarlet habit which had been presentedto her by Mr. Vigo. She had created quite an enthusiasm in the field, and Lord Beaumaris was proud of his guests. When Endymion parted withhis sister at the Albany, where they had been examining his rooms, hehad repaired to Warwick Street, with some expectation that the Rodneyswould have returned from Conington, and he intended to break to his hostthe impending change in his life. The Rodneys, however, had not arrived, and so he ascended to his room, where he had been employed in arranginghis books and papers, and indulging in the reverie which we haveindicated. When he came downstairs, wishing to inquire about theprobable arrival of his landlord, Endymion knocked at the door of theparlour where they used to assemble, and on entering, found Imogenewriting. 

"How do you do, Mr. Ferrars?" she said, rising. "I am writing to Sylvia. They are not returning as soon as they intended, and I am to go down toConington by an early train to-morrow. "

"I want to see Mr. Rodney, " said Endymion moodily. 

"Can I write anything to him, or tell him anything?" said Imogene. 

"No, " continued Endymion in a melancholy tone. "I can tell you whatI wanted to say. But you must be occupied now, going away, andunexpectedly, to-morrow. It seems to me that every one is going away. "

"Well, we have lost the prince, certainly, " said Imogene, "and I doubtwhether his rooms will be ever let again. "

"Indeed!" said Endymion. 

"Well, I only know what Mr. Waldershare tells me. He says that Mr. Rodney and Mr. Vigo have made a great speculation, and gained a greatdeal of money; but Mr. Rodney never speaks to me of such matters, norindeed does Sylvia. I am myself very sorry that the prince has gone, forhe interested me much. "

"Well, I should think Mr. Rodney would not be very sorry to get rid ofme then, " said Endymion. 

"O Mr. Ferrars! why should you say or think such things! I am surethat my brother and sister, and indeed every one in this house, alwaysconsider your comfort and welfare before any other object. "

"Yes, " said Endymion, "you have all been most kind to me, and that makesme more wretched at the prospect of leaving you. "

"But there is no prospect of that?"

"A certainty, Imogene; there is going to be a change in my life, " andthen he told her all. 

"Well, " said Imogene, "it would be selfish not to be happy at what Ihear; but though I hope I am happy, I need not be joyful. I never usedto be nervous, but I am afraid I am getting so. All these great changesrather shake me. This adventure of the prince--as Mr. Waldersharesays, it is history. Then Miss Myra's great marriage, and yourpromotion--although they are exactly what we used to dream about, andwished a fairy would accomplish, and somehow felt that, somehow orother, they must happen--yet now they have occurred, one is almost asastounded as delighted. We certainly have been very happy in WarwickStreet, at least I have been, all living as it were together. But whereshall we be this time next year? All scattered, and perhaps not even theRodneys under this roof. I know not how it is, but I dread leaving theroof where one has been happy. "

"Oh! you know you must leave it one day or other, Imogene. You are sureto marry; that you cannot avoid. "

"Well, I am not by any means sure about that, " said Imogene. "Mr. Waldershare, in educating me, as he says, as a princess, has made mereally neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, nor even that coarser but populardelicacy never forgotten. I could not unite my life with a being who wasnot refined in mind and in manners, and the men of my class in life, whoare the only ones after all who might care to marry me, shock my taste, I am ashamed to say so. I am not sure it is not wicked to think it even;but so it is. "

"Why do you not marry Waldershare?" said Endymion. 

"That would be madness! I do not know any alliance that could provemore unfortunate. Mr. Waldershare must never marry. All people ofimagination, they say, are difficult to live with; but a person whoconsists solely of imagination, like Mr. Waldershare, who has indeed noother attribute--before a year was past, married, he would fly to thedesert or to La Trappe, commit terrible scandals from mere weariness offeeling, write pasquinades against the wife of his bosom, and hold usboth up to the fierce laughter of the world. No, no; he is the best, the dearest, and the most romantic of friends; tender as a father, andsometimes as wise, for genius can be everything. He is going to riseearly to-morrow, which he particularly dislikes, because he will notlet me go to the station alone; though I tell him, as I often tell him, those are the becoming manners of my class. "

"But you might meet a person of the refinement you require, " saidEndymion, "with a moderate and yet a sufficient income, who would not beunworthy of you. "

"I doubt it, " said Imogene. 

"But, do not doubt it, dear Imogene, " said Endymion, advancing; "suchcharms as yours, both of body and of mind, such a companion in life, so refined, so accomplished, and yet endowed with such clear sense, andsuch a sweet disposition--believe me"----

But at this moment a splendid equipage drove up to the door, withpowdered footmen and long canes behind, and then a terrible rap, likethe tattoo of a field-marshal. 

"Good gracious! what is all this?" exclaimed Imogene. 

"It is my sister, " said Endymion, blushing; "it is Lady Roehampton. "

"I must go to her myself, " said Imogene; "I cannot have the servantattend upon your sister. "

Endymion remained silent and confused. Imogene was some little timeat the carriage-door, for Lady Roehampton had inquiries to make afterSylvia and other courteous things to say, and then Imogene returned, andsaid to Endymion, "Lady Roehampton wishes you to go with her directly onsome particular business. "

CHAPTER XLIX

Endymion liked his new official life very much. Whitehall was a greatimprovement on Somerset House, and he had sufficient experience of thecivil service to duly appreciate the advantage of being permanentlyquartered in one of the chief departments of the state, instead ofobscurely labouring in a subordinate office, with a limited future, anddetached from all the keenly interesting details of public life. But itwas not this permanent and substantial advantage which occasioned himsuch lively and such novel pleasure, as the fact of his being a privatesecretary, and a private secretary to a cabinet minister. 

The relations between a minister and his secretary are, or at leastshould be, among the finest that can subsist between two individuals. Except the married state, there is none in which so great a degree ofconfidence is involved, in which more forbearance ought to be exercised, or more sympathy ought to exist. There is usually in the relation anidentity of interest, and that of the highest kind; and the perpetualdifficulties, the alternations of triumph and defeat, develop devotion. A youthful secretary will naturally feel some degree of enthusiasm forhis chief, and a wise minister will never stint his regard for one inwhose intelligence and honour he finds he can place confidence. 

There never was a happier prospect of these relations being establishedon the most satisfactory basis than in the instance of Endymion andhis new master. Mr. Sidney Wilton was a man of noble disposition, finemanners, considerable culture, and was generally gracious. But he wasdisposed to be more than gracious to Endymion, and when he found thatour young friend had a capacity for work--that his perception was quickand clear--that he wrote with facility--never made difficulties--wascalm, sedulous, and patient, the interest which Mr. Wilton took in himas the son of William Ferrars, and, we must add, as the brother of LadyRoehampton, became absorbed in the personal regard which the ministersoon entertained for his secretary. Mr. Wilton found a pleasure informing the mind of Endymion to the consideration and comprehension ofpublic affairs; he spoke to him both of men and things without reserve;revealed to him the characters of leading personages on both sides, illustrated their antecedents, and threw light upon their future; taughthim the real condition of parties in parliament, rarely to be found innewspapers; and finally, when he was sufficiently initiated, obtainedfor his secretary a key for his cabinet boxes, which left little of thebusiness of government unknown to Endymion. 

Such great confidence, and that exhibited by one who possessed so manywinning qualities, excited in the breast of Endymion the most livelyfeelings of gratitude and respect. He tried to prove them by thevigilant and unwearying labour with which he served his master, and heserved him every day more effectually, because every day he became moreintimate with the mind and method of Mr. Wilton. Every one to a certaindegree is a mannerist; every one has his ways; and a secretary will beassisted in the transaction of business if a vigilant observation hasmade him acquainted with the idiosyncrasy of his chief. 

The regulations of the office which authorise a clerk, appointed toa private secretaryship, to deviate from the routine duties of thedepartment, and devote his time entirely to the special requirements ofhis master, of course much assisted Endymion, and proved also a pleasantrelief, for he had had enough at Somerset House of copying documents anddrawing up formal reports. But it was not only at Whitehall that he sawMr. Wilton, and experienced his kindness. Endymion was a frequent guestunder Mr. Wilton's roof, and Mr. Wilton's establishment was one of themost distinguished in London. They met also much in the evenings, andalways at Lady Roehampton's, where Mr. Wilton was never absent. Wheneverand wherever they met, even if they had been working together thewhole morning, Mr. Wilton always greeted Endymion with the utmostconsideration--because he knew such a recognition would raise Endymionin the eyes of the social herd, who always observe little things, andgenerally form from them their opinions of great affairs. 

CHAPTER L

Mr. Wilton was at Charing Cross, on his way to his office, when a ladysaluted him from her carriage, which then drew up to the pavement andstopped. 

"We have just arrived, " said Lady Montfort, "and I want you to give mea little dinner to-day. My lord is going to dine with an Old Baileylawyer, who amuses him, and I do not like to be left, the first day, onthe _pave_. "

"I can give you a rather large dinner, if you care to come, " said Mr. Wilton, "but I fear you will not like it. I have got some House ofCommons men dining with me to-day, and one or two of the other House tomeet them. My sister Georgina has very good-naturedly promised to come, with her husband, and I have just written a note to the Duchess Dowagerof Keswick, who often helps me--but I fear this sort of thing wouldhardly suit you. "

"On the contrary, I think it will be very amusing. Only do not putme between two of your colleagues. Anybody amuses me for once. Anew acquaintance is like a new book. I prefer it, even if bad, to aclassic. "

The dinner party to-day at Mr. Wilton's was miscellaneous, and notheterogeneous enough to produce constraint, only to produce a littleexcitement--some commoners high in office, and the Treasury whip, several manufacturers who stood together in the room, and somemetropolitan members. Georgina's husband, who was a lord-in-waiting, anda great swell, in a green riband, moved about with adroit condescension, and was bewitchingly affable. The manufacturing members whispered toeach other that it was a wise thing to bring the two Houses together, but when Her Grace the Duchess Dowager of Keswick was announced, they exchanged glances of astounded satisfaction, and felt thatthe government, which had been thought to be in a somewhat ricketycondition, would certainly stand. 

Berengaria came a little late, not very. She thought it had beenearlier, but it was not. The duchess dowager opened her eyes withwonderment when she beheld Lady Montfort, but the company in generalwere not in the least aware of the vast social event that was occurring. They were gratified in seeing another fine lady, but did not, of course, rank her with a duchess. 

The dinner went off better than Mr. Wilton could have hoped, as it wasimpossible to place a stranger by Lady Montfort. He sate in the middleof his table with the duchess dowager on his right hand, and Berengaria, who was taken out by the green riband, on the other. As he knew thegreen riband would be soon exhausted, he devoted himself to LadyMontfort, and left the duchess to her own resources, which wereconsiderable, and she was soon laying down her opinions on men andthings to her other neighbours with much effect. The manufacturerstalked shop to each other in whispers, that is to say, mixed House ofCommons tattle about bills and committees with news from Manchester andLiverpool, and the West Riding. The metropolitan members, then a morecosmopolitan body and highly miscellaneous in their character andpursuits, were louder, and perhaps more easy, even ventured totalk across the table when near its end, and enticed the peers intodiscussions on foreign politics. 

Mr. Sidney Wilton having been delightful, thought it necessary toobserve that he feared Lady Montfort had been bored. "I have been, andam, extremely amused, " she replied; "and now tell me, who is that youngman at the very end of the table?"

"That is my private secretary, Mr. Ferrars. "

"Ferrars!"

"A brother of Lady Roehampton. "

"Present him to me after dinner. "

Endymion knew Lady Montfort by sight, though she did not know him. Hehad seen her more than once at the receptions of Mrs. Neuchatel, where, as indeed in every place, she was the cynosure. He was much astonishedat meeting her at this party to-day, --almost as surprised as the duchessdowager, for Endymion, who was of an observant nature, was beginningto comprehend society and all its numerous elements, and schools, and shades, and classes. When they entered the saloon, Mr. Wilton ledEndymion up to Lady Montfort at once, and she immediately inquired afterhis sister. "Do you think, " she said, "Lady Roehampton would see meto-morrow if I called on her?"

"If I were Lady Roehampton, I would, " said Endymion. 

Lady Montfort looked at him with a glance of curious scrutiny; notsmiling, and yet not displeased. "I will write her a little note inthe morning, " said Lady Montfort thoughtfully. "One may leave cards forever. Mr. Wilton tells me you are quite his right hand. "

"Mr. Wilton is too kind to me, " said Endymion. "One could not be excusedfor not doing one's best for such a master. "

"You like people to be kind to you?" said Lady Montfort. 

"Well, I have not met with so much kindness in this world as to becomeinsensible to it. "

"You are too young to be melancholy, " said Lady Montfort; "are you olderthan Lady Roehampton?"

"We are twins. "

"Twins! and wonderfully like too! Is it not thought so?"

"I have sometimes heard it mentioned. "

"Oh, it is striking!" said Lady Montfort, and she motioned to him to sitdown by her; and then she began to talk politics, and asked him what themembers thought at dinner of the prospects of the government, and whathe had heard of the malcontent movement that they said was _in petto_. Endymion replied that Mr. Sharpset, the Secretary of the Treasury, didnot think much of it. 

"Well, I wish I did not, " said Lady Montfort. "However, I will soon findout something about it. I have only just come to town; but I intend toopen my house, immediately. Now I must go. What are you going to do withyourself to-morrow? I wish you would come and dine with Lord Montfort. It will be quite without form, a few agreeable and amusing people; LordMontfort must be amused. It seems a reasonable fancy, but very difficultto realise; and now you shall ask for my carriage, and to-morrow I hopeto be able to tell Lady Roehampton what very great pleasure I have hadin making the acquaintance of her brother. "

CHAPTER LI

The morning after, Endymion was emerging from the court-yard of theAlbany, in order to call on Mr. Rodney, who, as he learnt from a casualremark in a letter from Waldershare, would be in town. The ladies wereleft behind for the last week of hunting, but business called Mr. Rodneyhome. Waldershare wrote to Endymion in the highest spirits, and morethan once declared that he was the happiest of men. Just as Endymion hadentered Piccadilly, he was stopped by a once familiar face; it was St. Barbe, who accosted him with great warmth, and as usual began to talkabout himself. "You are surprised to see me, " he said. "It is two yearssince we met. Well, I have done wonders; carried all before me. By Jove, sir, I can walk into a minister's private room with as much ease as Iwere entering the old den. The ambassadors are hand and glove with me. There are very few things I do not know. I have made the fortune of the'Chuck-Farthing, ' trebled its circulation, and invented a new style, which has put me at the head of all 'our own correspondents. ' I wish youwere at Paris; I would give you a dinner at the Rocher, which would makeup for all our dinners at that ferocious ruffian, Joe's. I gave a dinnerthe other day to forty of them, all 'our own correspondents, ' or suchlike. Do you know, my dear fellow, when I looked round the room, therewas not a man who had not done his best to crush me; running down myworks or not noticing them, or continually dilating on Gushy as ifthe English public would never read anything else. Now, that wasChristian-like of me, was not it? God, sir, if they only had but oneneck, and I had been the Emperor Nero--but, I will not dwell on it; Ihate them. However, it suits me to take the other line at present. I amall for fraternity and that sort of thing, and give them dinners. Thereis a reason why, but there is no time to talk about that now. I shallwant their sweet voices--the hounds! But, my dear fellow, I am trulyglad to see you. Do you know, I always liked you; and how come you to bein this quarter this fine morning?"

"I live in the Albany, " said Endymion. 

"You live in the Albany!" repeated St. Barbe, with an amazed andperturbed expression. "I knew I could not be a knight of the garter, ora member of White's--the only two things an Englishman cannot command;but I did think I might some day live in the Albany. It was my dream. And you live there! Gracious! what an unfortunate fellow I am! I do notsee how you can live in the Albany with your salary; I suppose they haveraised you. "

"I have left Somerset House, " said Endymion, "and am now at the Board ofTrade, and am private secretary to Mr. Sidney Wilton. "

"Oh!" said St. Barbe; "then we have friends at court. You may dosomething for me, if I only knew what I wanted. They have no decorationshere. Curse this aristocratic country, they want all the honours tothemselves. I should like to be in the Board of Trade, and would makesome sacrifice for it. The proprietors of the 'Chuck-Farthing' pay well;they pay like gentlemen; though, why I say so I do not exactly know, forno gentleman ever paid me anything. But, if I could be Secretary of theBoard of Trade, or get 1500 pounds a year secure, I would take it; andI dare say I could get employed on some treaties, as I speak French, andthen I might get knighted. "

"Well, I think you are very well off, " said Endymion; "carrying, as yousay, everything before you. What more can you want?"

"I hate the craft, " said St. Barbe, with an expression of genuinedetestation; "I should like to show them all up before I died. I supposeit was your sister marrying a lord that got you on in this way. I couldhave married a countess myself, but then, to be sure, she was only aPolish one, and hard up. I never had a sister; I never had any luck inlife at all. I wish I had been a woman. Women are the only people whoget on. A man works all his life, and thinks he has done a wonderfulthing if, with one leg in the grave and no hair on his head, he managesto get a coronet; and a woman dances at a ball with some young fellow orother, or sits next to some old fellow at dinner and pretends shethinks him charming, and he makes her a peeress on the spot. Oh! it isa disgusting world; it must end in revolution. Now you tell your master, Mr. Sidney Wilton, that if he wants to strengthen the institutions ofthis country, the government should establish an order of merit, and thepress ought to be represented in it. I do not speak only for myself; Ispeak for my brethren. Yes, sir, I am not ashamed of my order. "

And so they bade each other farewell. 

"Unchanged, " thought Endymion, as he crossed Piccadilly; "the vainest, the most envious, and the most amusing of men! I wonder what he will doin life. "

Mr. Rodney was at home, had just finished his breakfast, read hisnewspaper, and was about to "go into the City. " His costume wasperfect. Mr. Rodney's hat seemed always a new one. Endymion was a littleembarrassed by this interview, for he had naturally a kind heart, andbeing young, it was still soft. The Rodneys had been truly good to him, and he was attached to them. Imogene had prepared Mr. Rodney for thechange in Endymion's life, and Endymion himself had every reasonto believe that in a worldly point of view the matter was entirelyinsignificant to his old landlord. Still his visit this morning ratifieda permanent separation from those with whom he had lived for a longtime, and under circumstances of sympathy and family connectionwhich were touching. He retained Mr. Rodney's hand for a moment as heexpressed, and almost in faltering tones, his sorrow at their separationand his hope that their friendly connection might be always cherished. 

"That feeling is reciprocal, " said Mr. Rodney. "If only because you werethe son of my revered and right honourable friend, you would always beesteemed here. But you are esteemed, or, I may say beloved, for yourown sake. We shall be proud to be considered with kindness by you, and Iecho your wish that, though no longer living under the same roof, wemay yet, and even often, meet. But do not say another word about theinconvenience you are occasioning us. The truth is, that althoughwherever we went the son of my revered and right honourable friend wouldhave always commanded hospitality from us, there are many changes aboutto take place in our family which have made us for some time contemplateleaving Warwick Street. Affairs, especially of late, have gone prettywell with me in the world, --at least not badly; I have had friends, andI hope have proved not undeserving of them. I wish Sylvia, too, tolive in an airier situation, near the park, so that she may ride everymorning. Besides, I have a piece of news to communicate to you, whichwould materially affect our arrangements. We are going to lose Imogene. "

"Ah! she is going to be married, " said Endymion, blushing. 

"She is going to be married, " said Mr. Rodney gravely. 

"To Mr. Waldershare?" said Endymion. "He almost said as much to me in aletter this morning. But I always thought so. "

"No; not to Mr. Waldershare, " said Mr. Rodney. 

"Who is the happy man then?" said Endymion, agitated. "I truly call himso; for I think myself that Imogene is perfection. "

"Imogene is about to be married to the Earl of Beaumaris. "

CHAPTER LII

Simon, Earl of Montfort, with whom Endymion was so unexpectedly goingto dine, may be said to have been a minor in his cradle. Underordinary circumstances, his inheritance would have been one of the mostconsiderable in England. His castle in the north was one of the gloriesof the land, and becomingly crowned his vast domain. Under the oldparliamentary system, he had the greatest number of nomination boroughspossessed by any Whig noble. The character and conduct of an individualso qualified were naturally much speculated on and finely scanned. Nothing very decided transpired about them in his boyhood, but certainlynothing adverse. He was good-looking and athletic, and was said tobe generous and good-natured, and when he went to Harrow, he becamepopular. In his eighteenth year, while he was in correspondence withhis guardians about going to Christ Church, he suddenly left his countrywithout giving any one notice of his intentions, and entered into, andfulfilled, a vast scheme of adventurous travel. He visited countriesthen rarely reached, and some of which were almost unknown. His flaghad floated in the Indian Ocean, and he had penetrated the dazzlingmysteries of Brazilian forests. When he was of age, he returned, andcommunicated with his guardians, as if nothing remarkable had happenedin his life. Lord Montfort had inherited a celebrated stud, which thefamily had maintained for more than a century, and the sporting worldremarked with satisfaction that their present representative appeared totake much interest in it. He had an establishment at Newmarket, and hishorses were entered for all the great races of the kingdom. He appearedalso at Melton, and conducted the campaign in a style becoming sucha hero. His hunters and his cooks were both first-rate. Although heaffected to take little interest in politics, the events of the timeforced him to consider them and to act. Lord Grey wanted to carry hisReform Bill, and the sacrifice of Lord Montfort's numerous boroughs wasa necessary ingredient in the spell. He was appealed to as the headof one of the greatest Whig houses, and he was offered a dukedom. Herelinquished his boroughs without hesitation, but he preferred to remainwith one of the oldest earldoms of England for his chief title. Allhonours, however, clustered about him, though he never sought them, andin the same year he tumbled into the Lord Lieutenancy of his country, unexpectedly vacant, and became the youngest Knight of the Garter. 

Society was looking forward with the keenest interest to the impendingseason, when Lord Montfort would formally enter its spell-bound ranks, and multiform were the speculations on his destiny. He attended an earlylevee, in order that he might be presented--a needful ceremony which hadnot yet taken place--and then again quitted his country, and for years. He was heard of in every capital except his own. Wonderful exploitsat St. Petersburg, and Paris, and Madrid, deeds of mark at Vienna, andeccentric adventures at Rome; but poor Melton, alas! expecting himto return every season, at last embalmed him, and his cooks, and hishunters, and his daring saddle, as a tradition, --jealous a littleof Newmarket, whither, though absent, he was frequently transmittingforeign blood, and where his horses still ran, and were oftenvictorious. 

At last it would appear that the restless Lord Montfort had found hisplace, and that place was Paris. There he dwelt for years in Sybariticseclusion. He built himself a palace, which he called a villa, and whichwas the most fanciful of structures, and full of every beautiful objectwhich rare taste and boundless wealth could procure, from undoubtedRaffaelles to jewelled toys. It was said that Lord Montfort saw noone; he certainly did not court or receive his own countrymen, and thisperhaps gave rise to, or at least caused to be exaggerated, the talesthat were rife of his profusion, and even his profligacy. But it was nottrue that he was entirely isolated. He lived much with the old familiesof France in their haughty faubourg, and was highly considered by them. It was truly a circle for which he was adapted. Lord Montfort was theonly living Englishman who gave one an idea of the nobleman ofthe eighteenth century. He was totally devoid of the sense ofresponsibility, and he looked what he resembled. His manner, thoughsimple and natural, was finished and refined, and, free from forbiddingreserve, was yet characterised by an air of serious grace. 

With the exception of the memorable year when he sacrificed hisnomination boroughs to the cause for which Hampden died on the fieldand Sidney on the scaffold--that is to say, the Whig government ofEngland--Lord Montfort had been absent for his country for ten years, and one day, in his statued garden at the Belvedere, he asked himselfwhat he had gained by it. There was no subject, divine or human, inwhich he took the slightest interest. He entertained for human naturegenerally, and without any exception, the most cynical appreciation. Hehad a sincere and profound conviction, that no man or woman ever actedexcept from selfish and interested motives. Society was intolerable tohim; that of his own sex and station wearisome beyond expression; theirconversation consisted only of two subjects, horses and women, and hehad long exhausted both. As for female society, if they were ladies, itwas expected that, in some form or other, he should make love to them, and he had no sentiment. If he took refuge in the _demi-monde_, heencountered vulgarity, and that, to Lord Montfort, was insufferable. He had tried them in every capital, and vulgarity was the badge of alltheir tribe. He had attempted to read; a woman had told him to readFrench novels, but he found them only a clumsy representation of thelife which, for years, he had practically been leading. An accident madehim acquainted with Rabelais and Montaigne; and he had relished them, for he had a fine sense of humour. He might have pursued these studies, and perhaps have found in them a slight and occasional distraction, buta clever man he met at a guingette at Passy, whither he had gone to tryto dissipate his weariness in disguise, had convinced him, that if therewere a worthy human pursuit, an assumption which was doubtful, it wasthat of science, as it impressed upon man his utter insignificance. 

No one could say Lord Montfort was a bad-hearted man, for he had noheart. He was good-natured, provided it brought him no inconvenience;and as for temper, his was never disturbed, but this not from sweetnessof disposition, rather from a contemptuous fine taste, which assuredhim, that a gentleman should never be deprived of tranquillity in aworld where nothing was of the slightest consequence. 

The result of these reflections was, that he was utterly wearied withBelvedere and Paris, and as his mind was now rather upon science, hefancied he should like to return to a country where it flourished, and where he indulged in plans of erecting colossal telescopes, andof promoting inquiry into the origin of things. He thought that withscience and with fishing, the only sport to which he still really clung, for he liked the lulling influence of running streams, and a pastime hecould pursue in loneliness, existence might perhaps be endured. 

Society was really surprised when they heard of the return of LordMontfort to England. He came back in the autumn, so that there shouldbe no season to encounter, and his flag was soon flying at his castle. There had been continuous attacks for years on the government for havingmade an absentee lord lieutenant of his country, and conferring the highdistinction of the garter on so profligate a character. All this madehis return more interesting and exciting. 

A worthy nobleman of high rank and of the same county, who for the lastfive years everybody, shaking everybody's head, had been saying ought tohave been lord lieutenant, had a great county function in his immediateneighbourhood in the late autumn, and had invited a large party toassist him in its celebration. It seemed right also to invite the lordlieutenant, but no one expected that he would make his appearance. Onthe contrary, the invitation was accepted, and the sensation was great. What would he be like, and what would he do, and was he so very wickedas the county newspaper said? He came, this wicked man, with hisgraceful presence and his diamond star, and everybody's heart palpitatedwith a due mixture of terror and admiration. The only exception to thesefeelings was the daughter of the house, the Lady Berengaria. Shewas then in her second season, but still unparagoned, for she was afastidious, not to say disdainful lady. The highest had been at herfeet, and sued in vain. She was a stirring spirit, with great ambitionand a daring will; never content except in society, and influencingit--for which she was qualified by her grace and lively fancy, her readythough capricious sympathy, and her passion for admiration. 

The function was successful, and the county full of enthusiasm for theirlord lieutenant, whose manner quite cleared his character. The partydid not break up, in fact the function was only an excuse for the party. There was sport of all kinds, and in the evenings a carnival--for LadyBerengaria required everybody about her to be gay and diverting--gamesand dances, and infinite frolic. Lord Montfort, who, to the surprise ofevery one, did not depart, spoke to her a little, and perhaps wouldnot have spoken at all, had they not met in the hunting-field. LadyBerengaria was a first-rate horsewoman, and really in the saddle lookedirresistible. 

The night before the party, which had lasted a week, broke up, LordMontfort came and sat by Lady Berengaria. He spoke about the run of themorning, and she replied in the same vein. "I have got a horse, LadyBerengaria, which I should like you to ride. Would you do so?"

"Certainly, and what sort of horse is it?"

"You shall see to-morrow. It is not far off. I like to have some horsesalways near, " and then he walked away. 

It was a dark chestnut of matchless beauty. Lady Berengaria, who wasof an emphatic nature, was loud in her admiration of its beauty and itshunting qualities. 

"I agree with you, " said Lord Montfort, "that it will spoil you for anyother horse, and therefore I shall ask permission to leave it here foryour use. "

The party broke up, but, strange to say, Lord Montfort did not depart. It was a large family. Lady Berengaria had several sisters; hereldest brother was master of the hounds, and her younger brothers wereasserting their rights as cadets, and killing their father's pheasants. There was also a number of cousins, who were about the same age, andwere always laughing, though it was never quite clear what it was about. An affectation of gaiety may be sometimes detected in youth. 

As Lord Montfort always had the duty of ushering the lady of thehouse to dinner, he never had the opportunity of conversing with LadyBerengaria, even had he wished it; but it was not all clear that he didwish it, and it seemed that he talked as much to her sisters and thelaughing cousins as to herself, but still he did not go away, which wasmost strange, and commenced to be embarrassing. 

At last one evening, both her parents slumbering, one over the newspaperand the other over her work, and the rest of the party in a distantroom playing at some new game amid occasional peals of laughter, LordMontfort, who had been sitting for some time by Lady Berengaria's side, and only asking now and then a question, though often a searching one, in order to secure her talking to him, rather abruptly said, "I wonderif anything would ever induce you to marry me?"

This was the most startling social event of the generation. Societyimmediately set a-wondering how it would turn out, and proved veryclearly that it must turn out badly. Men who knew Montfort well at Parislooked knowing, and said they would give it six months. 

But the lady was as remarkable a woman as the bridegroom was in hissex. Lady Berengaria was determined to be the Queen of Society, and hadconfidence in her unlimited influence over man. It is, however, ratherdifficult to work on the feelings of a man who has no heart. This shesoon found out, and to her dismay, but she kept it a profound secret. By endless ingenuity on her part, affairs went on very well much longerthan the world expected, and long enough to fulfil the object of LadyBerengaria's life. Lord Montfort launched his wife well, and seemedeven content to be occasionally her companion until she had mountedthe social throne. He was proud of her as he would be of one of hisbeautiful horses; but when all the world had acknowledged the influenceof Berengaria, he fell into one of his old moods, and broke to her thathe could bear it no longer, and that he must retire from society. LadyMontfort looked distressed, but, resolved under no circumstances to beseparated from her husband, whom she greatly admired, and to whom, had he wished it, she could have become even passionately attached, signified her readiness to share his solitude. But she then foundout that this was not what he wanted. It was not only retirement fromsociety, but retirement from Lady Montfort, that was indispensable. Inshort, at no time of his perverse career had Lord Montfort been morewilful. 

During the last years of his residence in Paris, when he was shut upin his delicious Belvedere, he had complained much of the state of hishealth, and one of his principal pursuits was consulting the faculty onthis interesting subject. The faculty were unanimous in their opinionthat the disorder from which their patient was suffering was _Ennui_. This persistent opinion irritated him, and was one of the elementsof his decision to leave the country. The unexpected distraction thatfollowed his return to his native land had made him neglect or forgethis sad indisposition, but it appears that it had now returned, and inan aggravated form. Unhappily the English physicians took much thesame view of the case as their French brethren. They could find nothingorganically wrong in the constitution or condition of Lord Montfort, and recommended occupation and society. At present he shrank with somedisgust at the prospect of returning to France, and he had taken it intohis head that the climate of Montfort did not agree with him. He wasconvinced that he must live in the south of England. One of the mostbeautiful and considerable estates in that favoured part of our countrywas virtually in the market, and Lord Montfort, at the cost of half amillion, became the proprietor of Princedown. And here he announced thathe should dwell and die. 

This state of affairs was a bitter trial to the proudest woman inEngland, but Lady Montfort was also one of the most able. She resistednothing, sympathised with all his projects, and watched her opportunitywhen she could extract from his unconscious good-nature some reasonablemodification of them. And she ultimately succeeded in establishing a_modus vivendi_. He was to live and die at Princedown; that was settled;but if he ever came to town, to consult his physicians, for example, hewas always to inhabit Montfort House, and if she occasionally required awhiff of southern air, she was to have her rooms always ready for her atPrincedown. She would not interfere with him in the least; he need noteven see her, if he were too unwell. Then as to the general principle ofhis life, it was quite clear that he was not interested in anything, andnever would be interested in anything; but there was no reason that heshould not be amused. This distinction between interest and amusementrather pleased, and seemed to satisfy Lord Montfort--but then it wasdifficult to amuse him. The only thing that ever amused him, he said, were his wife's letters, and as he was the most selfish as well as themost polite of men, he requested her to write to him every day. Greatpersonages, who are selfish and whimsical, are generally surroundedby parasites and buffoons, but this would not suit Lord Montfort; hesincerely detested flattery, and he wearied in eight-and-forty hours ofthe most successful mountebank in society. What he seemed inclined towas the society of men of science, of travellers in rare parts, andof clever artists; in short, of all persons who had what he called"idiosyncrasy. " Civil engineering was then beginning to attract generalattention, and Lord Montfort liked the society of civil engineers; butwhat he liked most were self-formed men, and to learn the secret oftheir success, and how they made their fortune. After the first fit ofPrincedown was over, Lord Montfort found that it was impossible, evenwith all its fascination, to secure a constant, or sufficient, presenceof civil engineers in such distant parts, and so he got into the habitof coming up to Montfort House, that he might find companions andbe amused. Lady Montfort took great pains that he should not bedisappointed, and catered for him with all the skill of an accomplished_chef_. Then, when the occasion served, she went down to Princedownherself with welcome guests--and so it turned out, that circumstances, which treated by an ordinary mind must have led to a social scandal, were so adroitly manipulated, that the world little apprehended the realand somewhat mortifying state of affairs. With the utmost license ofill-nature, they could not suppose that Lord and Lady Montfort, livingunder the same roof, might scarcely see each other for weeks, and thathis communications with her, and indeed generally, were always made inwriting. 

Lady Monfort never could agree with her husband in the cardinalassumption of his philosophy. One of his reasons for never doinganything was, that there was nothing for him to attain. He had goteverything. Here they at once separated in their conclusions. LadyMontfort maintained they had got nothing. "What, " she would say, "arerank and wealth to us? We were born to them. We want something thatwe were not born to. You reason like a parvenu. Of course, if you hadcreated your rank and your riches, you might rest on your oars, and findexcitement in the recollection of what you had achieved. A man of yourposition ought to govern the country, and it always was so in theold days. Your family were prime ministers; why not you, with as muchtalent, and much more knowledge?"

"You would make a very good prime minister, Berengaria. "

"Ah! you always jest, I am serious. "

"And so am I. If I ever am to work, I would sooner be a civil engineerthan a prime minister. "

Nothing but the indomitable spirit of Lady Montfort could fightsuccessfully against such obstacles to her schemes of power as werepresented by the peculiar disposition of her lord. Her receptions everySaturday night during the season were the most important of socialgatherings, but she held them alone. It was by consummate skill thatshe had prevailed upon her lord occasionally appearing at the precedingbanquets, and when they were over, he flitted for an instant anddisappeared. At first, he altogether refused, but then Lady Montfortwould introduce Royalty, always kind, to condescend to express a wishto dine at Montfort House, and that was a gracious intimation it wasimpossible not to act upon, and then, as Lady Montfort would say, "Itrust much to the periodical visits of that dear Queen of Mesopotamia. He must entertain her, for his father was her lover. "

In this wonderful mystification, by which Lord Montfort was made toappear as living in a society which he scarcely ever entered, hiswife was a little assisted by his visits to Newmarket, which he evenfrequently attended. He never made a bet or a new acquaintance, but heseemed to like meeting men with whom he had been at school. There iscertainly a magic in the memory of school-boy friendships; it softensthe heart, and even affects the nervous system of those who have nohearts. Lord Montfort at Newmarket would ask half a dozen men who hadbeen at school with him, and were now members of the Jockey Club, to behis guests, and the next day all over the heath, and after the heath, all over Mayfair and Belgravia, you heard only one speech, "I dinedyesterday, " or "the other day, " as the case might be, "with Montfort;out and out the best dinner I ever had, and such an agreeable fellow;the wittiest, the most amusing, certainly the most charming fellow thatever lived; out and out! It is a pity he does not show a little more. "And society thought the same; they thought it a pity, and a great one, that this fascinating being of whom they rarely caught a glimpse, andwho to them took the form of a wasted and unsympathising phantom, shouldnot show a little more and delight them. But the most curious thing was, that however rapturous were his guests, the feelings of their host afterthey had left him, were by no means reciprocal. On the contrary, hewould remark to himself, "Have I heard a single thing worth remembering?Not one. "

CHAPTER LIII

Endymion was a little agitated when he arrived at the door of MontfortHouse, a huge family mansion, situate in a court-yard and looking intothe Green Park. When the door was opened he found himself in a largehall with many servants, and he was ushered through several rooms on theground floor, into a capacious chamber dimly lighted, where there wereseveral gentlemen, but not his hostess. His name was announced, and thena young man came up to him and mentioned that Lord and Lady Montfortwould soon be present, and then talked to him about the weather. TheCount of Ferroll arrived after Endymion, and then another gentlemanwhose name he could not catch. Then while he was making some originalobservations on the east wind, and, to confess the truth, feelinganything but at his ease, the folding doors of a further chamberbrilliantly lighted were thrown open, and almost at the same moment LadyMontfort entered, and, taking the Count of Ferroll's arm, walked intothe dining-room. It was a round table, and Endymion was told by thesame gentleman who had already addressed him, that he was to sit by LadyMontfort. 

"Lord Montfort is a little late to-day, " she said, "but he wished me notto wait for him. And how are you after our parliamentary banquet?"she said, turning to Endymion; "I will introduce you to the Count ofFerroll. "

The Count of Ferroll was a young man, and yet inclined to be bald. Hewas chief of a not inconsiderable mission at our court. Though not tobe described as a handsome man, his countenance was striking; a browof much intellectual development, and a massive jaw. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a slender waist. He greeted Endymion with apenetrating glance, and then with a winning smile. 

The Count of Ferroll was the representative of a kingdom which, ifnot exactly created, had been moulded into a certain form of apparentstrength and importance by the Congress of Vienna. He was a noble ofconsiderable estate in a country where possessions were not extensiveor fortunes large, though it was ruled by an ancient, and haughty, andwarlike aristocracy. Like his class, the Count of Ferroll had received amilitary education; but when that education was completed, he found buta feeble prospect of his acquirements being called into action. Itwas believed that the age of great wars had ceased, and that evenrevolutions were for the future to be controlled by diplomacy. As he wasa man of an original, not to say eccentric, turn of mind, the Countof Ferroll was not contented with the resources and distraction of hissecond-rate capital. He was an eminent sportsman, and, for some time, took refuge and found excitement in the breadth of his dark forests, andin the formation of a stud, which had already become celebrated. But allthis time, even in the excitement of the chase, and in the raising ofhis rare-breed steeds, the Count of Ferroll might be said to have beenbrooding over the position of what he could scarcely call his country, but rather an aggregation of lands baptized by protocols, and christenedand consolidated by treaties which he looked upon as eminentlyuntrustworthy. One day he surprised his sovereign, with whom he wasa favourite, by requesting to be appointed to the legation at London, which was vacant. The appointment was at once made, and the Count ofFerroll had now been two years at the Court of St. James'. 

The Count of Ferroll was a favourite in English society, for hepossessed every quality which there conduces to success. He was of greatfamily and of distinguished appearance, munificent and singularly frank;was a dead-shot, and the boldest of riders, with horses which were theadmiration alike of Melton and Newmarket. The ladies also approved ofhim, for he was a consummate waltzer, and mixed with a badinage gailycynical a tone that could be tender and a bewitching smile. 

But his great friend was Lady Montfort. He told her everything, andconsulted her on everything; and though he rarely praised anybody, ithad reached her ears that the Count of Ferroll had said more than oncethat she was a greater woman than Louise of Savoy or the Duchesse deLongueville. 

There was a slight rustling in the room. A gentleman had entered andglided into his unoccupied chair, which his valet had guarded. "I fear Iam not in time for an oyster, " said Lord Montfort to his neighbour. 

The gentleman who had first spoken to Endymion was the secretary of LordMontfort; then there was a great genius who was projecting a suspensionbridge over the Tyne, and that was in Lord Montfort's country. Adistinguished officer of the British Museum completed the party with aperson who sate opposite Endymion, and whom in the dim twilight he hadnot recognised, but whom he now beheld with no little emotion. It wasNigel Penruddock. They had not met since his mother's funeral, and theassociations of the past agitated Endymion. They exchanged recognitions;that of Nigel was grave but kind. 

The conversation was what is called general, and a great deal onsuspension bridges. Lord Montfort himself led off on this, in orderto bring out his distinguished guest. The Count of Ferroll was alsointerested on this subject, as his own government was making inquirieson the matter. The gentleman from the British Museum made some remarkson the mode in which the ancient Egyptians moved masses of granite, andquoted Herodotus to the civil engineer. The civil engineer had neverheard of Herodotus, but he said he was going to Egypt in the autumn bydesire of Mehemet Ali, and he would undertake to move any mass whichwas requisite, even if it were a pyramid itself. Lady Montfort, withoutdisturbing the general conversation, whispered in turns to the Count ofFerroll and Endymion, and told the latter that she had paid a visit toLady Roehampton in the morning--a most delightful visit. There was noperson she admired so much as his sister; she quite loved her. Theonly person who was silent was Nigel, but Lady Montfort, who perceivedeverything, addressed him across the table with enthusiasm about somechanges he had made in the services of some church, and the countenanceof Nigel became suffused like a young saint who has a glimpse ofParadise. 

After dinner Lady Montfort led Endymion to her lord, and left him seatedby his host. Lord Montfort was affable and natural in his manner. Hesaid, "I have not yet made the acquaintance of Lady Roehampton, for Inever go out; but I hope to do so, for Lady Montfort tells me she isquite captivating. "

"She is a very good sister, " said Endymion. 

"Lady Montfort has told me a great deal about yourself, and all of itI was glad to hear. I like young men who rise by their merits, and Mr. Sidney Wilton tells Lady Montfort that yours are distinguished. "

"Mr. Sidney Wilton is a kind master, sir. "

"Well, I was his fag at Harrow, and I thought him so, " said LordMontfort. "And now about your office; tell me what you do. You were notthere first, Lady Montfort says. Where were you first? Tell me all aboutit. I like detail. "

It was impossible to resist such polished and amiable curiosity, andEndymion gratified it with youthful grace. He even gave Lord Montfort asketch of St. Barbe, inspired probably by the interview of the morning. Lord Montfort was quite amused with this, and said he should so muchlike to know Mr. St. Barbe. It was clear, when the party broke up, thatEndymion had made a favourable impression, for Lord Montfort said, "Youcame here to-day as Lady Montfort's friend, but you must come in futureas mine also. And will you understand, I dine at home every day when Iam in town, and I give you a general invitation. Come as often as youlike; you will be always welcome. Only let the house know your intentionan hour before dinner-time, as I have a particular aversion to the tablebeing crowded, or seeing an empty chair. "

Lady Montfort had passed much of the evening in earnest conversationwith Nigel, and when the guests quitted the room, Nigel and Endymionwalked away together. 

CHAPTER LIV

The meeting between Nigel and Endymion was not an ordinary one, and whenthey were at length alone, neither of them concealed his feelings ofpleasure and surprise at its occurrence. Nigel had been a curate in thenorthern town which was defended by Lord Montfort's proud castle, andhis labours and reputation had attracted the attention of Lady Montfort. Under the influence of his powerful character, the services of hischurch were celebrated with a precision and an imposing effect, whichsoon occasioned a considerable excitement in the neighbourhood, in timeeven in the county. The pulpit was frequently at his command, for hisrector, who had imbibed his Church views, was not equal to the task ofpropagating them, and the power and fame of Nigel as a preacher began tobe much rumoured. Although the church at which he officiated was notthe one which Lady Montfort usually attended, she was soon among hiscongregation and remained there. He became a constant guest at thecastle, and Lady Montfort presented his church with a reredos ofalabaster. She did more than this. Her enthusiasm exceeded herselfishness, for though the sacrifice was great which would deprive herof the ministrations and society of Nigel in the country, she prevailedupon the prime minister to prefer him to a new church in London, whichhad just fallen vacant, and which, being situated in a wealthy andpopulous district, would afford him the opportunity of making known tothe world his eloquence and genius. This was Nigel's simple, yet notuneventful history; and then, in turn, he listened to Endymion's briefbut interesting narrative of his career, and then they agreed to adjournto Endymion's chambers and have a good talk over the past and thepresent. 

"That Lady Montfort is a great woman, " said Nigel, standing with hisback to the fire. "She has it in her to be another Empress Helena. "

"Indeed!"

"I believe she has only one thought, and that the only thought worthythe human mind--the Church. I was glad to meet you at her house. You have cherished, I hope, those views which in your boyhood you sofervently and seriously embraced. "

"I am rather surprised, " said Endymion, not caring to answer thisinquiry, "at a Whig lady entertaining such high views in these matters. The Liberal party rather depends on the Low Church. "

"I know nothing about Whigs or Tories or Liberals, or any other newnames which they invent, " said Nigel. "Nor do I know, or care to know, what Low Church means. There is but one Church, and it is catholic andapostolic; and if we act on its principles, there will be no need, andthere ought to be no need, for any other form of government. "

"Well, those are very distinct views, " said Endymion, "but are they aspractical as they are clear?"

"Why should they not be practical? Everything is practical which webelieve; and in the long run, which is most likely that we shouldbelieve, what is taught by God, or what is taught by man?"

"I confess, " said Endymion, "that in all matters, both civil andreligious, I incline to what is moderate and temperate. I always tracemy dear father's sad end, and all the terrible events in my family, to his adopting in 1829 the views of the extreme party. If he had onlyfollowed the example and the advice of his best friend, Mr. SidneyWilton, what a different state of affairs might have occurred!"

"I know nothing about politics, " said Nigel. "By being moderate andtemperate in politics I suppose you mean being adroit, and doing thatwhich is expedient and which will probably be successful. But the Churchis founded on absolute truth, and teaches absolute truth, and there canbe no compromise on such matters. "

"Well, I do not know, " said Endymion, "but surely there are many veryreligious people, who do not accept without reserve everything that istaught by the Church. I hope I am a religious person myself, and yet, for example, I cannot give an unreserved assent to the whole of theAthanasian Creed. "

"The Athanasian Creed is the most splendid ecclesiastical lyric everpoured forth by the genius of man. I give to every clause of it animplicit assent. It does not pretend to be divine; it is human, but theChurch has hallowed it, and the Church ever acts under the influence ofthe Divine Spirit. St. Athanasius was by far the greatest man thatever existed. If you cavil at his creed, you will soon cavil at othersymbols. I was prepared for infidelity in London, but I confess, my dearFerrars, you alarm me. I was in hopes that your early education wouldhave saved you from this backsliding. "

"But let us be calm, my dear Nigel. Do you mean to say, that I am tobe considered an infidel or an apostate, because, although I ferventlyembrace all the vital truths of religion, and try, on the whole, toregulate my life by them, I may have scruples about believing, forexample, in the personality of the Devil?"

"If the personality of Satan be not a vital principle of your religion, I do not know what is. There is only one dogma higher. You think it issafe, and I daresay it is fashionable, to fall into this lax andreally thoughtless discrimination between what is and what is not to bebelieved. It is not good taste to believe in the Devil. Give me asingle argument against his personality which is not applicable to thepersonality of the Deity. Will you give that up; and if so, where areyou? Now mark me; you and I are young men--you are a very young man. This is the year of grace 1839. If these loose thoughts, which youhave heedlessly taken up, prevail in this country for a generation orso--five and twenty or thirty years--we may meet together again, and Ishall have to convince you that there is a God. "

CHAPTER LV

The balance of parties in the House of Commons, which had been virtuallyrestored by Sir Robert Peel's dissolution of 1834, might be said to beformally and positively established by the dissolution of parliamentin the autumn of 1837, occasioned by the demise of the crown. Theministerial majority became almost nominal, while troubles from allquarters seemed to press simultaneously upon them: Canadian revolts, Chartist insurrections, Chinese squabbles, and mysterious complicationsin Central Asia, which threatened immediate hostilities with Persia, andeven with one of the most powerful of European empires. In addition toall this, the revenue continually declined, and every day the generalprejudice became more intense against the Irish policy of the ministry. The extreme popularity of the Sovereign, reflecting some lustre on herministers, had enabled them, though not without difficulty, to tidethrough the session of 1838; but when parliament met in 1839 theirprospects were dark, and it was known that there was a section of theextreme Liberals who would not be deeply mortified if the governmentwere overthrown. All efforts, therefore, political and social, andparticularly the latter, in which the Whigs excelled, were to be made toprevent or to retard the catastrophe. 

Lady Montfort and Lady Roehampton opened their houses to the generalworld at an unusually early period. Their entertainments rivalled thoseof Zenobia, who with unflagging gallantry, her radiant face prescient oftriumph, stopped her bright vis-a-vis and her tall footmen in the midstof St. James' Street or Pall Mall, while she rapidly inquired from somefriendly passer-by whom she had observed, "Tell me the names of theRadical members who want to turn out the government, and I will invitethem directly. "

Lady Montfort had appropriated the Saturdays, as was her custom andher right; so Myra, with the advice of Lord Roehampton, had fixed onWednesdays for her receptions. 

"I should have liked to have taken Wednesdays, " said Zenobia, "but Ido not care to seem to be setting up against Lady Roehampton, for hermother was my dearest friend. Not that I think any quarter ought to beshown to her after joining those atrocious Whigs, but to be sure she wascorrupted by her husband, whom I remember the most thorough Tory going. To be sure, I was a Whig myself in those days, so one must not say toomuch about it, but the Whigs then were gentlemen. I will tell you whatI will do. I will receive both on Saturdays and Wednesdays. It is aneffort, and I am not as young as I was, but it will only be for a seasonor less, for I know these people cannot stand. It will be all over byMay. "

Prince Florestan had arrived in town, and was now settled in his mansionin Carlton Terrace. It was the fashion among the _creme de la creme_ tokeep aloof from him. The Tories did not love revolutionary dynasties, and the Whigs being in office could not sanction a pretender, andone who, they significantly intimated with a charitable shrug of theshoulders, was not a very scrupulous one. The prince himself, though hewas not insensible to the charms of society, and especially of agreeablewomen, was not much chagrined by this. The world thought that he hadfitted up his fine house, and bought his fine horses, merely forthe enjoyment of life. His purposes were very different. Though hisacquaintances were limited, they were not undistinguished, and helived with them in intimacy. There had arisen between himself and Mr. Waldershare the closest alliance both of thought and habits. Theywere rarely separated. The prince was also a frequent guest at theNeuchatels', and was a favourite with the head of the house. 

The Duke of St. Angelo controlled the household at Carlton Gardens withskill. The appointments were finished and the cuisine refined. There wasa dinner twice a week, from which Waldershare was rarely absent, andto which Endymion, whom the prince always treated with kindness, hada general invitation. When he occasionally dined there he met alwaysseveral foreign guests, and all men apparently of mark--at any rate, alldistinguished by their intelligence. It was an interesting and usefulhouse for a young man, and especially a young politician, to frequent. Endymion heard many things and learnt many things which otherwise wouldnot have met his ear or mind. The prince encouraged conversation, thoughhimself inclined to taciturnity. When he did speak, his terse remarksand condensed views were striking, and were remembered. On the days onwhich he did not receive, the prince dined at the Travellers' Club, to which Waldershare had obtained his introduction, and generally withWaldershare, who took this opportunity of gradually making his friendacquainted with eminent and influential men, many of whom in due timebecame guests at Carlton Terrace. It was clear, indeed, that theseclub-dinners were part of a system. 

The prince, soon after his arrival in town, while riding, had passedLady Roehampton's carriage in the park, and he had saluted her witha grave grace which distinguished him. She was surprised at feelinga little agitated by this rencontre. It recalled Hainault, her notmortifying but still humble position beneath that roof, the prince'scourtesy to her under those circumstances, and, indeed, his markedpreference for her society. She felt it something like ingratitude totreat him with neglect now, when her position was so changed and hadbecome so elevated. She mentioned to Lord Roehampton, while theywere dining alone, that she should like to invite the prince to herreceptions, and asked his opinion on the point. Lord Roehampton shruggedhis shoulders and did not encourage her. "You know, my darling, ourpeople do not much like him. They look upon him as a pretender, ashaving forfeited his parole, and as a refugee from justice. I have noprejudices against him myself, and perhaps in the same situation mighthave acted in the same manner; but if he is to be admitted into society, it should hardly be at a ministerial reception, and of all houses, thatof one who holds my particular post. "

"I know nothing about his forfeiting his parole, " said Lady Roehampton;"the charge is involved in mystery, and Mr. Waldershare told me it wasan entire fabrication. As for his being a pretender, he seems to me aslegitimate a prince as most we meet; he was born in the purple, and hisfather was recognised by every government in Europe except our own. Asfor being a refugee from justice, a prince in captivity has certainly aright to escape if he can, and his escape was romantic. However, I willnot contest any decision of yours, for I think you are always right. Only I am disappointed, for, to say nothing of the unkindness, I cannothelp feeling our not noticing him is rather shabby. "

There was silence, a longer silence than usually occurred in_tete-a-tete_ dinners between Lord and Lady Roehampton. To break thesilence he began to converse on another subject, and Lady Roehamptonreplied to him cheerfully, but curtly. He saw she was vexed, and thisgreat man, who was at that time meditating one of the most daring actsof modern diplomacy, who had the reputation, in the conduct of publicaffairs, of not only being courageous, but of being stern, inflexible, unfeeling, and unscrupulous beyond ordinary statesmen, who had passedhis mornings in writing a menacing despatch to a great power andintimating combinations to the ambassadors of other first-rate stateswhich they almost trembled to receive, was quite upset by seeing hiswife chagrined. At last, after another embarrassing pause, he saidgaily, "Do you know, my dear Myra, I do not see why you should not askPrince Florestan. It is you that ask him, not I. That is one of thepleasant results of our system of political entertainments. The guestscome to pay their respects to the lady of the house, so no one iscommitted. The prince may visit you on Wednesday just as well asthe leaders of the opposition who want our places, or the malcontentRadicals who they say are going to turn us out. "

So Prince Florestan was invited to Lady Roehampton's receptions, and hecame; and he never missed one. His visits were brief. He appeared, madehis bow, had the pleasure of some slight conversation with her, and thensoon retired. Received by Lady Roehampton, in time, though sluggishly, invitations arrived from other houses, but he rarely availed himself ofthem. He maintained in this respect great reserve, and was accustomed tosay that the only fine lady in London who had ever been kind to him wasLady Roehampton. 

All this time Endymion, who was now thoroughly planted in society, saw agreat deal of the Neuchatels, who had returned to Portland Place atthe beginning of February. He met Adriana almost every evening, and wasfrequently invited to the house--to the grand dinners now, as well asthe domestic circle. In short, our Endymion was fast becoming a youngman of fashion and a personage. The brother of Lady Roehampton had nowbecome the private secretary of Mr. Sydney Wilton and the great friendof Lady Montfort. He was indeed only one of the numerous admirersof that lady, but he seemed not the least smiled on. There was neveranything delightful at Montfort House at which he was not present, orindeed in any other place, for under her influence, invitations fromthe most distinguished houses crowded his mantelpiece and were stuck allround his looking-glass. Endymion in this whirl of life did not forgethis old friends. He took care that Seymour Hicks should have a frequentinvitation to Lady Roehampton's assemblies. Seymour Hicks only wanted alever to raise the globe, and this introduction supplied him withone. It was astonishing how he made his way in society, and though, of course, he never touched the empyrean regions in which Endymion nowbreathed, he gradually, and at last rapidly, planted himself in a worldwhich to the uninitiated figures as the very realm of nobility andfashion, and where doubtless is found a great fund of splendour, refinement, and amusement. Seymour Hicks was not ill-favoured, and wasalways well dressed, and he was very civil, but what he really owed hissocial advancement to was his indomitable will. That quality governs allthings, and though the will of Seymour Hicks was directed to what manymay deem a petty or a contracted purpose, life is always interestingwhen you have a purpose and live in its fulfilment. It appeared fromwhat he told Endymion that matters at the office had altered a good dealsince he left it. The retirement of St. Barbe was the first brick outof the wall; now, which Endymion had not yet heard, the brother ofTrenchard had most unexpectedly died, and that gentleman come into agood estate. "Jawett remains, and is also the editor of the 'Precursor, 'but his new labours so absorb his spare time that he is always at theoffice of the paper. So it is pretty well all over with the table atJoe's. I confess I could not stand it any longer, particularly afteryou left. I have got into the junior Pan-Ionian; and I am down forthe senior; I cannot get in for ten years, but when I do it will be a_coup_; the society there is tiptop, a cabinet minister sometimes, andvery often a bishop. "

CHAPTER LVI

Endymion was glad to meet Baron Sergius one day when he dined withPrince Florestan. There were several distinguished foreigners among theguests, who had just arrived. They talked much, and with much emphasis. One of them, the Marquis of Vallombrosa, expatiated on the Latinrace, their great qualities, their vivacity, invention, vividness ofperception, chivalrous valour, and sympathy with tradition. The northernraces detested them, and the height of statesmanship was to combine theLatin races into an organised and active alliance against the barbarismwhich menaced them. There had been for a short time a vacant place nextto Endymion, when Baron Sergius, according to his quiet manner, stoleinto the room and slipped into the unoccupied seat. "It is some timesince we met, " he said, "but I have heard of you. You are now a publicman, and not a public character. That is a not unsatisfactory position. "

The prince listened apparently with much interest to the Marquis ofVallombrosa, occasionally asked him a question, and promoted discussionwithout himself giving any opinion. Baron Sergius never spoke exceptto Endymion, and then chiefly social inquiries about Lord and LadyRoehampton, their good friends the Neuchatels, and frequently aboutMr. Sidney Wilton, whom, it appeared, he had known years ago, andintimately. After dinner the guests, on the return to the saloon, rangedthemselves in a circle, but not too formally, and the prince movinground addressed each of them in turn. When this royal ceremony wasconcluded, the prince motioned to the Marquis of Vallombrosa toaccompany him, and then they repaired to an adjacent salon, the door ofwhich was open, but where they could converse without observation. TheDuke of St. Angelo amused the remaining guests with all the resources ofa man practised in making people feel at their ease, and in this he wassoon greatly assisted by Mr. Waldershare, who was unable to dine withthe prince to-day, but who seemed to take much interest in this arrivalof the representatives of the Latin race. 

Baron Sergius and Endymion were sitting together rather apart from therest. The baron said, "You have heard to-day a great deal about theLatin race, their wondrous qualities, their peculiar destiny, theirpossible danger. It is a new idea, or rather a new phrase, that Iobserve is now getting into the political world, and is probablydestined to produce consequences. No man will treat with indifferencethe principle of race. It is the key of history, and why history isoften so confused is that it has been written by men who were ignorantof this principle and all the knowledge it involves. As one who maybecome a statesman and assist in governing mankind, it is necessary thatyou should not be insensible to it; whether you encounter its influencein communities or in individuals, its qualities must ever be taken intoaccount. But there is no subject which more requires discriminatingknowledge, or where your illustrating principle, if you are not deeplyfounded, may not chance to turn out a will-o'-the-wisp. Now this greatquestion of the Latin race, by which M. De Vallombrosa may succeed indisturbing the world--it might be well to inquire where the Latin raceis to be found. In the North of Italy, peopled by Germans and namedafter Germans, or in the South of Italy, swarming with the descendantsof Normans and Arabs? Shall we find the Latin race in Spain, stocked byGoths, and Moors, and Jews? Or in France, where there is a great Celticnation, occasionally mingled with Franks? Now I do not want to go intothe origin of man and nations--I am essentially practical, and onlyendeavour to comprehend that with which I have personally to deal, andthat is sufficiently difficult. In Europe I find three great races withdistinct qualities--the Teutons, the Sclaves, and the Celts; and theirconduct will be influenced by those distinctive qualities. There isanother great race which influences the world, the Semites. Certainly, when I was at the Congress of Vienna, I did not believe that the Arabswere more likely to become a conquering race again than the Tartars, andyet it is a question at this moment whether Mehemet Ali, at theirhead, may not found a new empire in the Mediterranean. The Semites areunquestionably a great race, for among the few things in this worldwhich appear to be certain, nothing is more sure than that they inventedour alphabet. But the Semites now exercise a vast influence over affairsby their smallest though most peculiar family, the Jews. There is norace gifted with so much tenacity, and such skill in organisation. These qualities have given them an unprecedented hold over propertyand illimitable credit. As you advance in life, and get experiencein affairs, the Jews will cross you everywhere. They have long beenstealing into our secret diplomacy, which they have almost appropriated;in another quarter of a century they will claim their share of opengovernment. Well, these are races; men and bodies of men influenced intheir conduct by their particular organisation, and which must enterinto all the calculations of a statesman. But what do they mean by theLatin race? Language and religion do not make a race--there is only onething which makes a race, and that is blood. "

"But the prince, " said Endymion inquiringly; "he seemed much interestedin what M. De Vallombrosa was saying; I should like to know what hisopinions are about the Latin race. "

"The prince rarely gives an opinion, " said the baron. "Indeed, as youwell know, he rarely speaks; he thinks and he acts. "

"But if he acts on wrong information, " continued Endymion, "there willprobably be only one consequence. "

"The prince is very wise, " said the baron; "and, trust me, knows asmuch about mankind, and the varieties of mankind, as any one. He may notbelieve in the Latin race, but he may choose to use those who do believein it. The weakness of the prince, if he have one, is not want ofknowledge, or want of judgment, but an over-confidence in his star, which sometimes seduces him into enterprises which he himself feels atthe time are not perfectly sound. "

CHAPTER LVII

The interest of the town was now divided between the danger of thegovernment and the new preacher who electrified the world at St. Rosicrucius. The Rev. Nigel Penruddock was not at all a popular preacheraccording to the vulgar acceptation of the term. He disdained all cantand clap-trap. He preached Church principles with commanding eloquence, and he practised them with unceasing devotion. His church was alwaysopen, yet his schools were never neglected; there was a perfect choir, a staff of disciplined curates, young and ascetic, while sacred sisters, some of patrician blood, fearless and prepared for martyrdom, weregliding about all the back slums of his ferocious neighbourhood. Howcame the Whigs to give such a church to such a person? There must havebeen some mistake. But how came it that all the Whig ladies were amongthe most devoted of his congregation? The government whips did not likeit; at such a critical period too, when it was necessary to keepthe Dissenters up to the mark! And there was Lady Montfort and LadyRoehampton never absent on a Sunday, and their carriages, it waswhispered, were often suspiciously near to St. Rosicrucius on week-days. Mr. Sidney Wilton too was frequently in Lady Roehampton's pew, and oneday, absolutely my lord himself, who unfortunately was rarely seen atchurch--but then, as is well known, critical despatches always arrive ona Sunday morning--was successfully landed in her pew by Lady Roehampton, and was very much struck indeed by what he heard. "The fact is, " as heafterwards observed, "I wish we had such a fellow on our bench in theHouse of Commons. "

About this time also there was another event, which, although not of sogeneral an interest, much touched the feelings of Endymion, and this wasthe marriage of the Earl of Beaumaris with Imogene. It was solemnised inas private and quiet a manner as possible. Waldershare was the best man, and there were no bridesmaids. The only other persons invited by Mr. Rodney, who gave away the bride, were Endymion and Mr. Vigo. 

One morning, a few days before the wedding, Sylvia, who had writtento ask Lady Roehampton for an interview, called by appointment in St. James' Square. Sylvia was received by Lady Roehampton in her boudoir, and the interview was long. Sylvia, who by nature was composed, andstill more so by art, was pale and nervous when she arrived, so much sothat her demeanour was noticed by the groom of the chambers; but whenshe departed, her countenance was flushed and radiant, though it wasobvious that she had been shedding tears. On the morning of the wedding, Lady Roehampton in her lord's brougham called for Endymion at theAlbany, and then they went together to the vestry of St. James' Church. Lord Beaumaris and Mr. Waldershare had arrived. The bridegroom was alittle embarrassed when he was presented to Lady Roehampton. He had madeup his mind to be married, but not to be introduced to a stranger, andparticularly a lady; but Mr. Waldershare fluttered over them and putall right. It was only the perplexity of a moment, for the rest of thewedding party now appeared. Imogene, who was in a travelling dress, waspale and serious, but transcendently beautiful. She attempted to touchLady Roehampton's hand with her lips when Myra welcomed her, but LadyRoehampton would not permit this, and kissed her. Everybody was calmduring the ceremony except Endymion, who had been silent the wholemorning. He stood by the altar with that convulsion of the throat andthat sickness of the heart which accompany the sense of catastrophe. He was relieved by some tears which he easily concealed. Nobody noticedhim, for all were thinking of themselves. After the ceremony, they allreturned to the vestry, and Lady Roehampton with the others signed theregistry. Lord and Lady Beaumaris instantly departed for the continent. 

"A strange event!" exclaimed Lady Roehampton, as she threw herself backin the brougham and took her brother's hand. "But not stranger than whathas happened to ourselves. Fortune seems to attend on our ruined home. Ithought the bride looked beautiful. "

Endymion was silent. 

"You are not gay this morning, my dear, " said Lady Roehampton; "they saythat weddings are depressing. Now I am in rather high spirits. I amvery glad that Imogene has become Lady Beaumaris. She is beautiful, anddangerously beautiful. Do you know, my Endymion, I have had some uneasymoments about this young lady. Women are prescient in these matters, andI have observed with anxiety that you admired her too much yourself. "

"I am sure you had no reason, Myra, " said Endymion, blushing deeply. 

"Certainly not from what you said, my dear. It was from what you didnot say that I became alarmed. You seldom mentioned her name, and whenI referred to her, you always turned the conversation. However, that isall over now. She is Countess of Beaumaris, " added Myra, dwelling slowlyand with some unction on the title, "and may be a powerful friend toyou; and I am Countess of Roehampton, and am your friend, also not quitedevoid of power. And there are other countesses, I suspect, on whosegood wishes you may rely. If we cannot shape your destiny, there is nosuch thing as witchcraft. No, Endymion, marriage is a mighty instrumentin your hands. It must not be lightly used. Come in and lunch; my lordis at home, and I know he wants to see you. "

CHAPTER LVIII

What was most remarkable, and most interesting, in the character ofBerengaria was her energy. She had the power of exciting others toaction in a degree rarely possessed. She had always some considerableobject in contemplation, occasionally more than one, and never foresawdifficulties. Her character was, however, singularly feminine; she neveraffected to be a superior woman. She never reasoned, did not read much, though her literary taste was fine and fastidious. Though she requiredconstant admiration and consequently encouraged it, she was not aheartless coquette. Her sensibility was too quick, and as the reign ofher favourites was sometimes brief, she was looked upon as capricious. The truth is, what seemed whimsical in her affections was occasionedby the subtlety of her taste, which was not always satisfied by theincreased experience of intimacy. Whenever she made a friend notunworthy of her, she was constant and entirely devoted. 

At present, Berengaria had two great objects; one was to sustain theWhig government in its troubles, and the other was to accomplish anunprecedented feat in modern manners, and that was no less than to holda tournament, a real tournament, in the autumn, at the famous castle ofher lord in the North of England. 

The lord-lieutenant had not been in his county for two years; he hadeven omitted to celebrate Christmas at his castle, which had shockedeverybody, for its revelry was looked upon almost as the tenure by whichthe Montforts held their estates. His plea of ill health, industriouslycirculated by all his agents, obtained neither sympathy nor credence. His county was rather a weak point with Lord Montfort, for though hecould not bear his home, he was fond of power, and power depended on histerritorial influence. The representation of his county by hisfamily, and authority in the local parliamentary boroughs, were thecompensations held out to him for the abolition of his normal seats. Hiswife dexterously availed herself of this state of affairs to obtainhis assent to her great project, which, it would appear, might not onlyamuse him, but, in its unprecedented magnificence and novelty, mustsweep away all discontents, and gratify every class. 

Lord Montfort had placed unlimited resources at the disposal ofBerengaria for the fulfilment of her purpose, and at times even showedsome not inconsiderable though fitful interest in her progress. Heturned over the drawings of the various costumes and armour with agracious smile, and, having picked up on such subjects a great deal ofknowledge, occasionally made suggestions which were useful and sometimesembarrassing. The heralds were all called into council, and Garterhimself deigned to regulate the order of proceedings. Some of the finestgentlemen in London, of both parties in the state, passed the greaterpart of their spring mornings in jousting, and in practising all themanoeuvres of the lists. Lady Montfort herself was to be the Queen ofthe Tournament, and she had prevailed on Lady Roehampton to accept thesupreme office of Queen of Beauty. 

It was the early part of May, and Zenobia held one of her greatassemblies. Being in high good humour, sanguine and prophetic of power, she had asked all the great Whig ladies, and, the times being critical, they had come. Berengaria seemed absorbed by the details of hertournament. She met many of her knights, and she conferred with themall; the Knight of the Bleeding Heart, the Knight of Roses, the Knightof the Crystal Shield. 

Endymion, who was not to be a knight, but a gentleman-at-arms inattendance on the Queen of the Tournament, mentioned that PrinceFlorestan much wished to be a jouster; he had heard this from theDuke of St. Angelo, and Lady Montfort, though she did not immediatelysanction, did not absolutely refuse, the request. 

Past midnight, there was a sudden stir in the saloons. The House ofCommons had broken up and many members were entering. There had been adivision on the Jamaica question, and the ministers had only a majorityof five. The leader of the House of Commons had intimated, not to sayannounced, their consequent resignation. 

"Have you heard what they say?" said Endymion anxiously to LadyMontfort. 

"Yes, I heard; but do not look so grave. "

"Do I look grave?"

"As if it were the last day. "

"I fear it is. "

"I am not so sure. I doubt whether Sir Robert thinks it ripe enough;and after all, we are not in a minority. I do not see why we should haveresigned. I wish I could see Lord Roehampton. "

Affairs did not proceed so rapidly as the triumphant Zenobia expected. They were out, no question about that; but it was not so certain who wasin. A day passed and another day, and even Zenobia, who knew everythingbefore anybody, remained in the dark. The suspense became protracted andeven more mysterious. Almost a week had elapsed; noble lords and righthonourable gentlemen were calling on Sir Robert every morning, accordingto the newspapers, but no one could hear from any authority of anyappointments being really made. At last, there was a whisper very lateone night at Crockford's, which was always better informed on thesematters than the political clubs, and people looked amazed, and staredincredulously in each other's face. But it was true; there was a hitch, and in four-and-twenty hours the cause of the hitch was known. It seemedthat the ministry really had resigned, but Berengaria, Countess ofMontfort, had not followed their example. 

What a dangerous woman! even wicked! Zenobia was for sending her tothe Tower at once. "It was clearly impossible, " she declared, "for SirRobert to carry on affairs with such a Duchesse de Longueville alwaysat the ear of our young Queen, under the pretence forsooth of being thefriend of Her Majesty's youth. "

This was the famous Bed-Chamber Plot, in which the Conservative leaders, as is now generally admitted, were decidedly in error, and whichterminated in the return of the Whigs to office. 

"But we must reconstruct, " said Lady Montfort to the prime minister. "Sidney Wilton must be Secretary of State. And you, " she said toEndymion, when she communicated to him the successful result of herinterference, "you will go with him. It is a great thing at your age tobe private secretary to a Secretary of State. "

CHAPTER LIX

Montfort Castle was the stronghold of England against the Scotchinvader. It stood on a high and vast table-land, with the town ofMontfort on one side at its feet, and on the other a wide-spreading andsylvan domain, herded with deer of various races, and terminating inpine forests; beyond them moors and mountains. The donjon keep, tall andgrey, that had arrested the Douglas, still remained intact, and manyan ancient battlement; but the long list of the Lords of Montfort hadsuccessively added to the great structure according to the genius of thetimes, so that still with the external appearance generally of afeudal castle, it combined in its various courts and quadrangle all thesplendour and convenience of a modern palace. 

But though it had witnessed many scenes and sights, and as strange onesas any old walls in this ancient land, it may be doubted whether thekeep of Montfort ever looked down on anything more rare than the lifethat was gathering and disporting itself in its towers and halls, andcourts and parks, and forest chase, in the memorable autumn of thisyear. 

Berengaria had repaired to her castle full of triumph; her lord, in highgood humour, admiring his wife for her energy, yet with a playful maliceapparently enjoying the opportunity of showing that the chronologyof her arrangements was confused, and her costume incorrect. They hadgood-naturedly taken Endymion down with them; for travelling to theBorder in those times was a serious affair for a clerk in a publicoffice. Day after day the other guests arrived; the rivals in thetourney were among the earliest, for they had to make themselvesacquainted with the land which was to be the scene of their exploits. There came the Knights of the Griffin, and the Dragon, and the BlackLion and the Golden Lion, and the Dolphin and the Stag's Head, and theywere all always scrupulously addressed by their chivalric names, insteadof by the Tommys and the Jemmys that circulated in the affectionatecircle of White's, or the Gusseys and the Regys of Belgraviantea-parties. After a time duly appeared the Knight of the White Rose, whose armour shielded the princely form of Florestan; and this portionof the company was complete when the Black Knight at length reached thecastle, who had been detained by his attendance on a conference at St. James', in the character of the Count of Ferroll. 

If anything could add to the delight and excitement of Berengaria, itwould seem to be the arrival of the Count of Ferroll. 

Other guests gradually appeared, who were to sustain other characters inthe great pageant. There was the Judge of Peace, and the Knight Marshalof the Lists, and the Jester, who was to ride on a caparisoned muletrapped with bells, and himself bearing a sceptre. Mr. Sidney Wiltoncame down, who had promised to be King of the Tournament; and, thoughrather late, for my lord had been detained by the same cause as theCount of Ferroll, at length arrived the Queen of Beauty herself. 

If the performance, to which all contiguous Britain intended torepair--for irrespective of the railroads, which now began sensiblyto affect the communications in the North of England, steamers werechartering from every port for passengers to the Montfort tournamentwithin one hundred miles' distance--were equal to the preparation, theaffair must be a great success. The grounds round the castle seemed tobe filled every day with groups of busy persons in fanciful costume, all practising their duties and rehearsing their parts; swordsmen andbowmen, and seneschals and esquires, and grooms and pages, and heraldsin tabards, and pursuivants, and banner-bearers. The splendid pavilionsof the knights were now completed, and the gorgeous throne of theQueen of Beauty, surrounded by crimson galleries, tier above tier, forthousands of favoured guests, were receiving only their last stroke ofmagnificence. The mornings passed in a feverish whirl of curiosity, and preparation, and excitement, and some anxiety. Then succeeded thebanquet, where nearly one hundred guests were every day present; but thecompany were so absorbed in the impending event that none expectedor required, in the evenings, any of the usual schemes or sources ofamusement that abound in country houses. Comments on the morning, andplans for the morrow, engrossed all thought and conversation, and mylord's band was just a due accompaniment that filled the pauses whenperplexities arrested talk, or deftly blended with some whispered phrasealmost as sweet or thrilling as the notes of the cornet-a-piston. 

"I owe my knighthood to you, " said Prince Florestan to Lady Roehampton, "as I do everything in this country that is agreeable. "

"You cannot be my knight, " replied Lady Roehampton, "because I am told Iam the sovereign of all the chivalry, but you have my best wishes. "

"All that I want in life, " said the prince, "are your good wishes. "

"I fear they are barren. "

"No, they are inspiring, " said the prince with unusual feeling. "Youbrought me good fortune. From the moment I saw you, light fell upon mylife. "

"Is not that an exaggerated phrase?" said Lady Roehampton with a smile, "because I happened to get you a ticket for a masquerade. "

"I was thinking of something else, " said the prince pensively; "but lifeis a masquerade; at least mine has been. "

"I think yours, sir, is a most interesting life, " said Lady Roehampton, "and, were I you, I would not quarrel with my destiny. "

"My destiny is not fulfilled, " said the prince. "I have never quarrelledwith it, and am least disposed to do so at this moment. "

"Mr. Sidney Wilton was speaking to me very much the other day about yourroyal mother, sir, Queen Agrippina. She must have been fascinating. "

"I like fascinating women, " said the prince, "but they are rare. "

"Perhaps it is better it should be so, " said Lady Roehampton, "for theyare apt--are they not?--to disturb the world. "

"I confess I like to be bewitched, " said the prince, "and I do not carehow much the world is disturbed. "

"But is not the world very well as it is?" said Lady Roehampton. "Whyshould we not be happy and enjoy it?"

"I do enjoy it, " replied Prince Florestan, "especially at MontfortCastle; I suppose there is something in the air that agrees with one. But enjoyment of the present is consistent with objects for the future. "

"Ah! now you are thinking of your great affairs--of your kingdom. Mywoman's brain is not equal to that. "

"I think your brain is quite equal to kingdoms, " said the prince, witha serious expression, and speaking in even a lower voice, "but I was notthinking of my kingdom. I leave that to fate; I believe it is destinedto be mine, and therefore occasions me thought but not anxiety. I wasthinking of something else than kingdoms, and of which unhappily I amnot so certain--of which I am most uncertain--of which I fear I have nochance--and yet which is dearer to me than even my crown. "

"What can that be?" said Lady Roehampton, with unaffected wonderment. 

"'Tis a secret of chivalry, " said Prince Florestan, "and I must neverdisclose it. "

"It is a wonderful scene, " said Adriana Neuchatel to Endymion, who hadbeen for some time conversing with her. "I had no idea that I shouldbe so much amused by anything in society. But then, it is so unlikeanything one has ever seen. "

Mrs. Neuchatel had not accompanied her husband and her daughter to theMontfort Tournament. Mr. Neuchatel required a long holiday, and afterthe tournament he was to take Adriana to Scotland. Mrs. Neuchatel shutherself up at Hainault, which it seemed she had never enjoyed before. She could hardly believe it was the same place, freed from its dailyinvasions by the House of Commons and the Stock Exchange. She had neverlived so long without seeing an ambassador or a cabinet minister, and itas quite a relief. She wandered in the gardens, and drove her pony-chairin forest glades. She missed Adriana very much, and for a few daysalways expected her to enter the room when the door opened; and thenshe sighed, and then she flew to her easel, or buried herself in somesublime cantata of her favourite master, Beethoven. Then came the mostwonderful performance of the whole day, and that was the letter, nevermissed, to Adriana. Considering that she lived in solitude, and ina spot with which her daughter was quite familiar, it was reallymarvellous that the mother should every day be able to fill so manyinteresting and impassioned pages. But Mrs. Neuchatel was a finepenwoman; her feelings were her facts, and her ingenious observationsof art and nature were her news. After the first fever of separation, reading was always a resource to her, for she was a great student. Shewas surrounded by all the literary journals and choice publications ofEurope, and there scarcely was a branch of science and learning withwhich she was not sufficiently familiar to be able to comprehend thestir and progress of the European mind. Mrs. Neuchatel had contrivedto get rid of the chief cook by sending him on a visit to Paris, soshe could, without cavil, dine off a cutlet and seltzer-water in herboudoir. Sometimes, not merely for distraction, but more from a sense ofduty, she gave festivals to her schools; and when she had lived like aprincely prisoner of state alone for a month, or rather like one on adesert isle who sighs to see a sail, she would ask a great geologist andhis wife to pay her a visit, or some professor, who, though himselfnot worth a shilling, had some new plans, which really sounded quitepractical, for the more equal distribution of wealth. 

"And who is your knight?" said Endymion. 

Adriana looked distressed. 

"I mean, whom do you wish to win?"

"Oh, I should like them all to win!"

"That is good-natured, but then there would be no distinction. I knowwho is going to wear your colours--the Knight of the Dolphin. "

"I hope nothing of that kind will happen, " said Adriana, agitated. "Iknow that some of the knights are going to wear ladies' colours, but Itrust no one will think of wearing mine. I know the Black Knight wearsLady Montfort's. "

"He cannot, " said Endymion hastily. "She is first lady to the Queen ofBeauty; no knight can wear the colours of the Queen. I asked Sir Morted'Arthur himself, and he told me there was no doubt about it, and thathe had consulted Garter before he came down. "

"Well, all I know is that the Count of Ferroll told me so, " saidAdriana; "I sate next to him at dinner. "

"He shall not wear her colours, " said Endymion quite angrily. "I willspeak to the King of the Tournament about it directly. "

"Why, what does it signify?" said Adriana. 

"You thought it signified when I told you Regy Sutton was going to wearyour colours. "

"Ah! that is quite a different business, " said Adriana, with a sigh. 

Reginald Sutton was a professed admirer of Adriana, rode with herwhenever he could, and danced with her immensely. She gave him coldencouragement, though he was the best-looking and best-dressed youthin England; but he was a determined young hero, not gifted with toosensitive nerves, and was a votary of the great theory that all in lifewas an affair of will, and that endowed with sufficient energy he mightmarry whom he liked. He accounted for his slow advance in London by theinimical presence of Mrs. Neuchatel, who he felt, or fancied, did notsympathise with him; while, on the contrary, he got on very well withthe father, and so he was determined to seize the present opportunity. The mother was absent, and he himself in a commanding position, beingone of the knights to whose exploits the eyes of all England wereattracted. 

Lord Roehampton was seated between an ambassadress and Berengaria, indulging in gentle and sweet-voiced raillery; the Count of Ferroll wasstanding beside Lady Montfort, and Mr. Wilton was opposite to the group. The Count of Ferroll rarely spoke, but listened to Lady Montfort withwhat she called one of his dark smiles. 

"All I know is, she will never pardon you for not asking her, " said LordRoehampton. "I saw Bicester the day I left town, and he was verygrumpy. He said that Lady Bicester was the only person who understoodtournaments. She had studied the subject. "

"I suppose she wanted to be the Queen of Beauty, " said Berengaria. 

"You are too severe, my dear lady. I think she would have been contentedwith a knight wearing her colours. "

"Well, I cannot help it, " said Berengaria, but somewhat doubtingly. Andthen, after a moment's pause, "She is too ugly. "

"Why, she came to my fancy ball, and it is not five years ago, as MaryQueen of Scots!"

"That must have been after the Queen's decapitation, " said Berengaria. 

"I wonder you did not ask Zenobia, " said Mr. Wilton. 

"Of course I asked her, but I knew she would not come. She is in oneof her hatreds now. She said she would have come, only she hadhalf-promised to give a ball to the tenants at Merrington about thattime, and she did not like to disappoint them. Quite touching, was itnot?"

"A touch beyond the reach of art, " said Mr. Wilton; "almost worthy ofyourself, Lady Montfort. "

"And what do you think of all this?" asked Lord Montfort of NigelPenruddock, who, in a cassock that swept the ground, had been stalkingabout the glittering salons like a prophet who had been ordained inMayfair, but who had now seated himself by his host. 

"I am thinking of what is beneath all this, " replied Nigel. "A greatrevivication. Chivalry is the child of the Church; it is the distinctivefeature of Christian Europe. Had it not been for the revival of Churchprinciples, this glorious pageant would never have occurred. But it isa pageant only to the uninitiated. There is not a ceremony, a form, a phrase, a costume, which is not symbolic of a great truth or a highpurpose. "

"I do not think Lady Montfort is aware of all this, " said her lord. 

"Oh yes!" said Nigel. "Lady Montfort is a great woman--a woman who couldinspire crusades and create churches. She might, and she will, I trust, rank with the Helenas and the Matildas. "

Lord Montfort gave a little sound, but so gentle that it was heardprobably but by himself, which in common language would be styled awhistle--an articulate modulation of the breath which in this instanceexpressed a sly sentiment of humorous amazement. 

"Well, Mr. Ferrars, " said Mr. Neuchatel, with a laughing eye, to thatyoung gentleman, as he encountered Endymion passing by, "and how are yougetting on? Are we to see you to-morrow in a Milanese suit?"

"I am only a page, " said Endymion. 

"Well, well, the old Italian saying is, 'A page beats a knight, ' atleast with the ladies. "

"Do you not think it very absurd, " said Endymion, "that the Count ofFerroll says he shall wear Lady Montfort's colours? Lady Montfort isonly the first lady of the Queen of Beauty, and she can wear no coloursexcept the Queen's. Do not you think somebody ought to interfere?"

"Hem! The Count of Ferroll is a man who seldom makes a mistake, " saidMr. Neuchatel. 

"So everybody says, " said Endymion rather testily; "but I do not seethat. "

"Now, you are a very young man, " said Mr. Neuchatel, "and I hope youwill some day be a statesman. I do not see why you should not, if youare industrious and stick to your master, for Mr. Sidney Wilton is a manwho will always rise; but, if I were you, I would keep my eyes very muchon the Count of Ferroll, for, depend on it, he is one of those men whosooner or later will make a noise in the world. "

Adriana came up at this moment, leaning on the arm of the Knight ofthe Dolphin, better known as Regy Sutton. They came from the tea-room. Endymion moved away with a cloud on his brow, murmuring to himself, "Iam quite sick of the name of the Count of Ferroll. "

The jousting-ground was about a mile from the castle, and though it wasnearly encircled by vast and lofty galleries, it was impossible thataccommodation could be afforded on this spot to the thousands who hadrepaired from many parts of the kingdom to the Montfort Tournament. Buteven a hundred thousand people could witness the procession from thecastle to the scene of action. That was superb. The sun shone, and notone of the breathless multitude was disappointed. 

There came a long line of men-at-arms and musicians and trumpeters andbanner-bearers of the Lord of the Tournament, and heralds in tabards, and pursuivants, and then the Herald of the Tournament by himself, whomthe people at first mistook for the Lord Mayor. 

Then came the Knight Marshal on a caparisoned steed, himself in asuit of gilt armour, and in a richly embroidered surcoat. A band ofhalberdiers preceded the King of the Tournament, also on a steed richlycaparisoned, and himself clad in robes of velvet and ermine, and wearinga golden crown. 

Then on a barded Arab, herself dressed in cloth of gold, parti-colouredwith violet and crimson, came, amidst tremendous cheering, the Queen ofBeauty herself. Twelve attendants bore aloft a silken canopy, which didnot conceal from the enraptured multitude the lustre of her matchlessloveliness. Lady Montfort, Adriana, and four other attendant ladies, followed her majesty, two by two, each in gorgeous attire, and on acharger that vied in splendour with its mistress. Six pages followednext, in violet and silver. 

The bells of a barded mule announced the Jester, who waved his sceptrewith unceasing authority, and pelted the people with admirably preparedimpromptus. Some in the crowd tried to enter into a competition ofbanter, but they were always vanquished. 

Soon a large army of men-at-arms and the sounds of most triumphant musicstopped the general laughter, and all became again hushed in curioussuspense. The tallest and the stoutest of the Border men bore thegonfalon of the Lord of the Tournament. That should have been LordMontfort himself; but he had deputed the office to his cousin andpresumptive heir. Lord Montfort was well represented, and the peoplecheered his cousin Odo heartily, as in his suit of golden armour richlychased, and bending on his steed, caparisoned in blue and gold, heacknowledged their fealty with a proud reverence. 

The other knights followed in order, all attended by their esquires andtheir grooms. Each knight was greatly applauded, and it was really agrand sight to see them on their barded chargers and in their panoply;some in suits of engraved Milanese armour, some in German suits offluted polished steel; some in steel armour engraved and inlaid withgold. The Black Knight was much cheered, but no one commanded moreadmiration than Prince Florestan, in a suit of blue damascened armour, and inlaid with silver roses. 

Every procession must end. It is a pity, for there is nothing so popularwith mankind. The splendid part of the pageant had passed, but stillthe people gazed and looked as if they would have gazed for ever. Thevisitors at the castle, all in ancient costume, attracted much notice. Companies of swordsmen and bowmen followed, till at last the seneschalof the castle, with his chamberlains and servitors, closed thespell-bound scene. 

CHAPTER LX

The jousting was very successful; though some were necessarilydiscomfited, almost every one contrived to obtain some distinction. Butthe two knights who excelled and vanquished every one except themselveswere the Black Knight and the Knight of the White Rose. Their exploitswere equal at the close of the first day, and on the second they were tocontend for the principal prize of the tournament, for which none elsewere entitled to be competitors. This was a golden helm, to be placedupon the victor's brow by the Queen of Beauty. 

There was both a banquet and a ball on this day, and the excitementbetween the adventures of the morning and the prospects of the morrowwas great. The knights, freed from their armour, appeared in fancifuldresses of many-coloured velvets. All who had taken part in the pageantretained their costumes, and the ordinary guests, if they yielded tomediaeval splendour, successfully asserted the taste of Paris and itssparkling grace, in their exquisite robes, and wreaths and garlands offantastic loveliness. 

Berengaria, full of the inspiration of success, received the smilingcongratulations of everybody, and repaid them with happy suggestions, which she poured forth with inexhaustible yet graceful energy. The onlyperson who had a gloomy air was Endymion. She rallied him. "I shall callyou the Knight of the Woeful Countenance if you approach me with such avisage. What can be the matter with you?"

"Nothing, " repeated Endymion, looking rather away. 

The Knight of the Dolphin came up and said, "This is a critical affairto-morrow, my dear Lady Montfort. If the Count Ferroll is discomfited bythe prince, it may be a _casus belli_. You ought to get Lord Roehamptonto interfere and prevent the encounter. "

"The Count of Ferroll will not be discomfited, " said Lady Montfort. "Heis one of those men who never fail. "

"Well, I do not know, " said the Knight of the Dolphin musingly. "Theprince has a stout lance, and I have felt it. "

"He had the best of it this morning, " said Endymion rather bitterly. "Every one thought so, and that it was very fortunate for the Count ofFerroll that the heralds closed the lists. "

"It might have been fortunate for others, " rejoined Lady Montfort. "What is the general opinion?" she added, addressing the Knight ofthe Dolphin. "Do not go away, Mr. Ferrars. I want to give you somedirections about to-morrow. "

"I do not think I shall be at the place to-morrow, " muttered Endymion. 

"What!" exclaimed Berengaria; but at this moment Mr. Sidney Wilton cameup and said, "I have been looking at the golden helm. It is entrustedto my care as King of the Tournament. It is really so beautiful, that Ithink I shall usurp it. "

"You will have to settle that with the Count of Ferroll, " saidBerengaria. 

"The betting is about equal, " said the Knight of the Dolphin. 

"Well, we must have some gloves upon it, " said Berengaria. 

Endymion walked away. 

He walked away, and the first persons that met his eye were the princeand the Count of Ferroll in conversation. It was sickening. They seemedquite gay, and occasionally examined together a paper which the princeheld in his hand, and which was an official report by the heralds of theday's jousting. This friendly conversation might apparently have gone onfor ever had not the music ceased and the count been obliged to seek hispartner for the coming dance. 

"I wonder you can speak to him, " said Endymion, going up to the prince. "If the heralds had not--many think, too hastily--closed the lists thismorning, you would have been the victor of the day. "

"My dear child! what can you mean?" said the prince. "I believeeverything was closed quite properly, and as for myself, I am entirelysatisfied with my share of the day's success. "

"If you had thrown him, " said Endymion, "he could not with decency havecontended for the golden helm. "

"Oh! that is what you deplore, " said the prince. "The Count of Ferrolland I shall have to contend for many things more precious than goldenhelms before we die. "

"I believe he is a very overrated man, " said Endymion. 

"Why?" said the prince. 

"I detest him, " said Endymion. 

"That is certainly a reason why _you_ should not overrate him, " said theprince. 

"There seems a general conspiracy to run him up, " said Endymion withpique. 

"The Count of Ferroll is the man of the future, " said the prince calmly. 

"That is what Mr. Neuchatel said to me yesterday. I suppose he caught itfrom you. "

"It is an advantage, a great advantage, for me to observe the Count ofFerroll in this intimate society, " said the prince, speaking slowly, "perhaps even to fathom him. But I am not come to that yet. He is a manneither to love nor to detest. He has himself an intelligence superiorto all passion, I might say all feeling; and if, in dealing with such abeing, we ourselves have either, we give him an advantage. "

"Well, all the same, I hope you will win the golden helm to-morrow, "said Endymion, looking a little perplexed. 

"The golden casque that I am ordained to win, " said the prince, "is notat Montfort Castle. This, after all, is but Mambrino's helmet. "

A knot of young dandies were discussing the chances of the morrow asEndymion was passing by, and as he knew most of them he joined thegroup. 

"I hope to heaven, " said one, "that the Count of Ferroll will beat thatforeign chap to-morrow; I hate foreigners. "

"So do I, " said a second, and there was a general murmur of assent. 

"The Count of Ferroll is as much a foreigner as the prince, " saidEndymion rather sharply. 

"Oh! I don't call him a foreigner at all, " said the first speaker. "Heis a great favourite at White's; no one rides cross country like him, and he is a deuced fine shot in the bargain. "

"I will back Prince Florestan against him either in field or cover, "said Endymion. 

"Well, I don't know your friend, " said the young gentlemancontemptuously, "so I cannot bet. "

"I am sure your friend, Lady Montfort, my dear Dymy, will back the Countof Ferroll, " lisped a third young gentleman. 

This completed the programme of mortification, and Endymion, hot andthen cold, and then both at the same time, bereft of repartee, andwishing the earth would open and Montfort Castle disappear in itsconvulsed bosom, stole silently away as soon as practicable, andwandered as far as possible from the music and the bursts of revelry. 

These conversations had taken place in the chief saloon, which wascontiguous to the ball-room, and which was nearly as full ofguests. Endymion, moving in the opposite direction, entered anotherdrawing-room, where the population was sparse. It consisted of couplesapparently deeply interested in each other. Some faces were radiant, and some pensive and a little agitated, but they all agreed in oneexpression, that they took no interest whatever in the solitaryEndymion. Even their whispered words were hushed as he passed by, andthey seemed, with their stony, unsympathising glance, to look upon himas upon some inferior being who had intruded into their paradise. Inshort, Endymion felt all that embarrassment, mingled with a certainportion of self contempt, which attends the conviction that we are whatis delicately called _de trop_. 

He advanced and took refuge in another room, where there was onlya single, and still more engrossed pair; but this was even moreintolerable to him. Shrinking from a return to the hostile chamber hehad just left, he made a frantic rush forward with affected ease andalacrity, and found himself alone in the favourite morning room of LadyMontfort. 

He threw himself on a sofa, and hid his face in his hand, and gave asigh, which was almost a groan. He was sick at heart; his extremitieswere cold, his brain was feeble. All hope, and truly all thought ofthe future, deserted him. He remembered only the sorrowful, or thehumiliating, chapters in his life. He wished he had never left Hurstley. He wished he had been apprenticed to Farmer Thornberry, that he hadnever quitted his desk at Somerset House, and never known more of lifethan Joe's and the Divan. All was vanity and vexation of spirit. Hecontemplated finishing his days in the neighbouring stream, in which, but a few days ago, he was bathing in health and joy. 

Time flew on; he was unconscious of its course; no one entered the room, and he wished never to see a human face again, when a voice sounded, andhe heard his name. 

"Endymion!"

He looked up; it was Lady Montfort. He did not speak, but gave her, perhaps unconsciously, a glance of reproach and despair. 

"What is the matter with you?" she said. 

"Nothing. "

"That is nonsense. Something must have happened. I have missed you solong, but was determined to find you. Have you a headache?"

"No. "

"Come back; come back with me. It is so odd. My lord has asked for youtwice. "

"I want to see no one. "

"Oh! but this is absurd--and on a day like this, when every thing hasbeen so successful, and every one is so happy. "

"I am not happy, and I am not successful. "

"You perfectly astonish me, " said Lady Montfort; "I shall begin tobelieve that you have not so sweet a temper as I always supposed. "

"It matters not what my temper is. "

"I think it matters a great deal. I like, above all things, to live withgood-tempered people. "

"I hope you may not be disappointed. My temper is my own affair, and Iam content always to be alone. "

"Why! you are talking nonsense, Endymion. "

"Probably; I do not pretend to be gifted. I am not one of thosegentlemen who cannot fail. I am not the man of the future. "

"Well! I never was so surprised in my life, " exclaimed Lady Montfort. "Inever will pretend to form an opinion of human character again. Now, mydear Endymion, rouse yourself, and come back with me. Give me your arm. I cannot stay another moment; I dare say I have already been wanted athousand times. "

"I cannot go back, " said Endymion; "I never wish to see anybody again. If you want an arm, there is the Count of Ferroll, and I hope you mayfind he has a sweeter temper than I have. "

Lady Montfort looked at him with a strange and startled glance. It wasa mixture of surprise, a little disdain, some affection blended withmockery. And then exclaiming "Silly boy!" she swept out of the room. 

CHAPTER LXI

"I do not like the prospect of affairs, " said Mr. Sidney Wilton toEndymion as they were posting up to London from Montfort Castle; a longjourney, but softened in those days by many luxuries, and they had muchto talk about. 

"The decline of the revenue is not fitful; it is regular. Our people aretoo apt to look at the state of the revenue merely in a financial pointof view. If a surplus, take off taxes; if a deficiency, put them on. Butthe state of the revenue should also be considered as the index of thecondition of the population. According to my impression, the conditionof the people is declining; and why? because they are less employed. If this spreads, they will become discontented and disaffected, andI cannot help remembering that, if they become troublesome, it is ouroffice that will have to deal with them. "

"This bad harvest is a great misfortune, " said Endymion. 

"Yes, but a bad harvest, though unquestionably a great, perhaps thegreatest, misfortune for this country, is not the entire solution ofour difficulties--I would say, our coming difficulties. A bad harvesttouches the whole of our commercial system: it brings us face toface with the corn laws. I wish our chief would give his mind to thatsubject. I believe a moderate fixed duty of about twelve shillingsa quarter would satisfy every one, and nothing then could shake thiscountry. "

Endymion listened with interest to other views of his master, whodescanted on them at much length. Private secretaries know everythingabout their chiefs, and Endymion was not ignorant that among many of thegreat houses of the Whig party, and indeed among the bulk of what wascalled "the Liberal" party generally, Mr. Sidney Wilton was looked upon, so far as economical questions were concerned, as very crotchety, indeed a dangerous character. Lord Montfort was the only magnate who wasentirely opposed to the corn laws, but then, as Berengaria would remark, "Simon is against all laws; he is not a practical man. "

Mr. Sidney Wilton reverted to these views more than once in the courseof their journey. "I was not alarmed about the Chartists last year. Political trouble in this country never frightens me. Insurrections andriots strengthen an English government; they gave a new lease even toLord Liverpool when his ministry was most feeble and unpopular; buteconomical discontent is quite another thing. The moment sedition arisesfrom taxation, or want of employment, it is more dangerous and moredifficult to deal with in this country than any other. "

"Lord Roehampton seemed to take rather a sanguine view of the situationafter the Bed-Chamber business in the spring, " observed Endymion, ratherin an inquiring than a dogmatic spirit. 

"Lord Roehampton has other things to think of, " said Mr. Wilton. "He isabsorbed, and naturally absorbed, in his department, the most importantin the state, and of which he is master. But I am obliged to lookat affairs nearer home. Now, this Anti-Corn-Law League, which theyestablished last year at Manchester, and which begins to be very busy, though nobody at present talks of it, is, in my mind, a movement whichought to be watched. I tell you what; it occurred to me more than onceduring that wondrous pageant, that we have just now been taking part in, the government wants better information than they have as to the stateof the country, the real feelings and condition of the bulk of thepopulation. We used to sneer at the Tories for their ignorance of thesematters, but after all, we, like them, are mainly dependent on quartersessions; on the judgment of a lord-lieutenant and the statistics of abench of magistrates. It is true we have introduced into our subordinateadministration at Whitehall some persons who have obtained thereputation of distinguished economists, and we allow them to guide us. But though ingenious men, no doubt, they are chiefly bankrupt tradesmen, who, not having been able to manage their own affairs, have taken uponthemselves to advise on the conduct of the country--pedants and prigs atthe best, and sometimes impostors. No; this won't do. It is useless tospeak to the chief; I did about the Anti-Corn-Law League; he shruggedhis shoulders and said it was a madness that would pass. I have madeup my mind to send somebody, quite privately, to the great scenes ofnational labour. He must be somebody whom nobody knows, and nobodysuspects of being connected with the administration, or we shall neverget the truth--and the person I have fixed upon is yourself. "

"But am I equal to such a task?" said Endymion modestly, but sincerely. 

"I think so, " said Mr. Wilton, "or, of course, I would not have fixedupon you. I want a fresh and virgin intelligence to observe and considerthe country. It must be a mind free from prejudice, yet fairly informedon the great questions involved in the wealth of nations. I know youhave read Adam Smith, and not lightly. Well, he is the best guide, though of course we must adapt his principles to the circumstances withwhich we have to deal. You have good judgment, great industry, a fairlyquick perception, little passion--perhaps hardly enough; but that isprobably the consequence of the sorrows and troubles of early life. But, after all, there is no education like adversity. "

"If it will only cease at the right time, " said Endymion. 

"Well, in that respect, I do not think you have anything to complainof, " said Mr. Wilton. "The world is all before you, and I mistake if youdo not rise. Perseverance and tact are the two qualities most valuablefor all men who would mount, but especially for those who have to stepout of the crowd. I am sure no one can say you are not assiduous, but Iam glad always to observe that you have tact. Without tact you can learnnothing. Tact teaches you when to be silent. Inquirers who are alwaysinquiring never learn anything. "

CHAPTER LXII

Lancashire was not so wonderful a place forty years ago as it is atpresent, but, compared then with the rest of England, it was infinitelymore striking. For a youth like Endymion, born and bred in our southerncounties, the Berkshire downs varied by the bustle of Pall-Mall and theStrand--Lancashire, with its teeming and toiling cities, its colossalmanufactories and its gigantic chimneys, its roaring engines and itsflaming furnaces, its tramroads and its railroads, its coal and itscotton, offered a far greater contrast to the scenes in which he hadhitherto lived, than could be furnished by almost any country of theEuropean continent. 

Endymion felt it was rather a crisis in his life, and that his futuremight much depend on the fulfilment of the confidential office whichhad been entrusted to him by his chief. He summoned all his energies, concentrated his intelligence on the one subject, and devoted to itsstudy and comprehension every moment of his thought and time. After awhile, he had made Manchester his head-quarters. It was even then thecentre of a network of railways, and gave him an easy command of thecontiguous districts. 

Endymion had more than once inquired after the Anti-Corn-Law League, but had not as yet been so fortunate as to attend any of their meetings. They were rarer than they afterwards soon became, and the greatmanufacturers did not encourage them. "I do not like extreme views, "said one of the most eminent one day to Endymion. "In my opinion, weshould always avoid extremes;" and he paused and looked around, as ifhe had enunciated a heaven-born truth, and for the first time. "I am aLiberal; so we all are here. I supported Lord Grey, and I support LordMelbourne, and I am, in everything, for a liberal policy. I don't likeextremes. A wise minister should take off the duty on cotton wool. Thatis what the country really wants, and then everybody would be satisfied. No; I know nothing about this League you ask about, and I do not knowany one--that is to say, any one respectable--who does. They came to meto lend my name. 'No, ' I said, 'gentlemen; I feel much honoured, but Ido not like extremes;' and they went away. They are making a little morenoise now, because they have got a man who has the gift of the gab, andthe people like to go and hear him speak. But as I said to a friend ofmine, who seemed half inclined to join them, 'Well; if I did anything ofthat sort, I would be led by a Lancashire lad. They have got a foreignerto lead them, a fellow out of Berkshire; an agitator--and only aprint-work after all. No; that will never do. '"

Notwithstanding these views, which Endymion found very generallyentertained by the new world in which he mixed, he resolved to take theearliest opportunity of attending the meeting of the League, and it soonarrived. 

It was an evening meeting, so that workmen--or the operatives, as theywere styled in this part of the kingdom--should be able to attend. Theassembly took place in a large but temporary building; very well adaptedto the human voice, and able to contain even thousands. It was fairlyfull to-night; and the platform, on which those who took a part in theproceedings, or who, by their comparatively influential presence, it wassupposed, might assist the cause, was almost crowded. 

"He is going to speak to-night, " said an operative to Endymion. "That iswhy there is such an attendance. "

Remembering Mr. Wilton's hint about not asking unnecessary questionswhich often arrest information, Endymion did not inquire who "he" was;and to promote communication merely observed, "A fine speaker, then, Iconclude?"

"Well, he is in a way, " said the operative. "He has not gotHollaballoo's voice, but he knows what he is talking about. I doubttheir getting what they are after; they have not the working classeswith them. If they went against truck, it would be something. "

The chairman opened the proceedings; but was coldly received, though hespoke sensibly and at some length. He then introduced a gentleman, whowas absolutely an alderman, to move a resolution condemnatory of thecorn laws. The august position of the speaker atoned for his haltingrhetoric, and a city which had only just for the first time beeninvested with municipal privileges was hushed before a man who might intime even become a mayor. 

Then the seconder advanced, and there was a general burst of applause. 

"There he is, " said the operative to Endymion; "you see they like him. Oh, Job knows how to do it!"

Endymion listened with interest, soon with delight, soon with a feelingof exciting and not unpleasing perplexity, to the orator; for he was anorator, though then unrecognised, and known only in his district. He wasa pale and slender man, with a fine brow and an eye that occasionallyflashed with the fire of a creative mind. His voice certainly was notlike Hollaballoo's. It was rather thin, but singularly clear. There wasnothing clearer except his meaning. Endymion never heard a case statedwith such pellucid art; facts marshalled with such vivid simplicity, and inferences so natural and spontaneous and irresistible, that theyseemed, as it were, borrowed from his audience, though none of thataudience had arrived at them before. The meeting was hushed, was rapt inintellectual delight, for they did not give the speaker the enthusiasmof their sympathy. That was not shared, perhaps, by the moiety of thosewho listened to him. When his case was fairly before them, the speakerdealt with his opponents--some in the press, some in parliament--withmuch power of sarcasm, but this power was evidently rather repressedthan allowed to run riot. What impressed Endymion as the chief qualityof this remarkable speaker was his persuasiveness, and he had the airof being too prudent to offend even an opponent unnecessarily. Hislanguage, though natural and easy, was choice and refined. He wasevidently a man who had read, and not a little; and there was no taintof vulgarity, scarcely a provincialism, in his pronunciation. 

He spoke for rather more than an hour; and frequently during this time, Endymion, notwithstanding his keen interest in what was taking place, was troubled, it might be disturbed, by pictures and memories ofthe past that he endeavoured in vain to drive away. When the oratorconcluded, amid cheering much louder than that which had first greetedhim, Endymion, in a rather agitated voice, whispered to his neighbour, "Tell me--is his name Thornberry?"

"That is your time of day, " said the operative. "Job Thornberry is hisname, and I am on his works. "

"And yet you do not agree with him?"

"Well; I go as far as he goes, but he does not go so far as I go; that'sit. "

"I do not see how a man can go much farther, " said Endymion. "Where arehis works? I knew your master when he was in the south of England, and Ishould like to call on him. "

"My employer, " said the operative. "They call themselves masters, but wedo not. I will tell you. His works are a mile out of town; but it seemsonly a step, for there are houses all the way. Job Thornberry & Co. 'sPrint-works, Pendleton Road--any one can guide you--and when you getthere, you can ask for me, if you like. I am his overlooker, and my nameis ENOCH CRAGGS. "

CHAPTER LXIII

"You are not much altered, " said Thornberry, as he retained Endymion'shand, and he looked at him earnestly; "and yet you have become a man. I suppose I am ten years your senior. I have never been back to the oldplace, and yet I sometimes think I should like to be buried there. Theold man has been here, and more than once, and liked it well enough; atleast, I hope so. He told me a good deal about you all; some sorrows, and, I hope, some joys. I heard of Miss Myra's marriage; she was a sweetyoung lady; the gravest person I ever knew; I never knew her smile. Iremember they thought her proud, but I always had a fancy for her. Well; she has married a topsawyer--I believe the ablest of them all, andprobably the most unprincipled; though I ought not to say that to you. However, public men are spoken freely of. I wish to Heaven you would gethim to leave off tinkering those commercial treaties that he is alwaysmaking such a fuss about. More pernicious nonsense was never devisedby man than treaties of commerce. However, their precious most favourednation clause will break down the whole concern yet. But you wish to seethe works; I will show them to you myself. There is not much going onnow, and the stagnation increases daily. And then, if you are willing, we will go home and have a bit of lunch--I live hard by. My best worksare my wife and children: I have made that joke before, as you can wellfancy. "

This was the greeting, sincere but not unkind, of Job Thornberry toEndymion on the day after the meeting of the Anti-Corn-Law League. ToEndymion it was an interesting, and, as he believed it would prove, auseful encounter. 

The print-works were among the most considerable of their kind atManchester, but they were working now with reduced numbers and athalf-time. It was the energy and the taste and invention of Thornberrythat had given them their reputation, and secured them extensivemarkets. He had worked with borrowed capital, but had paid off his debt, and his establishment was now his own; but, stimulated by his success, he had made a consignment of large amount to the United States, where itarrived only to be welcomed by what was called the American crash. 

Turning from the high road, a walk of half a mile brought them to alittle world of villas; varying in style and size, but all pretty, andeach in its garden. "And this is my home, " said Thornberry, opening thewicket, "and here is my mistress and the young folks"--pointing toa pretty woman, but with an expression of no inconsiderableself-confidence, and with several children clinging to her dress andhiding their faces at the unexpected sight of a stranger. "My eldest isa boy, but he is at school, " said Thornberry. "I have named him, afterone of the greatest men that ever lived, John Hampden. "

"He was a landed proprietor, " observed Endymion rather drily; "and aconsiderable one. "

"I have brought an old friend to take cheer with us, " continuedThornberry; "one whom I knew before any here present; so show yourfaces, little people;" and he caught up one of the children, a fairchild like its mother, long-haired and blushing like a Worcestershireorchard before harvest time. "Tell the gentleman what you are. "

"A free-trader, " murmured the infant. 

Within the house were several shelves of books well selected, and thewalls were adorned with capital prints of famous works of art. "Theyare chiefly what are called books of reference, " said Thornberry, asEndymion was noticing his volumes; "but I have not much room, and, totell you the truth, they are not merely books of reference to me--I likereading encyclopaedia. The 'Dictionary of Dates' is a favourite book ofmine. The mind sometimes wants tone, and then I read Milton. He is theonly poet I read--he is complete, and is enough. I have got his proseworks too. Milton was the greatest of Englishmen. "

The repast was simple, but plenteous, and nothing could be neater thanthe manner in which it was served. 

"We are teetotallers, " said Thornberry; "but we can give you a good cupof coffee. "

"I am a teetotaller too at this time of the day, " said Endymion; "buta good cup of coffee is, they say, the most delicious and the rarestbeverage in the world. "

"Well, " continued Thornberry; "it is a long time since we met, Mr. Ferrars--ten years. I used to think that in ten years one might doanything; and a year ago, I really thought I had done it; but theaccursed laws of this blessed country, as it calls itself, have nearlybroken me, as they have broken many a better man before me. "

"I am sorry to hear this, " said Endymion; "I trust it is but a passingcloud. "

"It is not a cloud, " said Thornberry; "it is a storm, a tempest, awreck--but not only for me. Your great relative, my Lord Roehampton, must look to it, I can tell you that. What is happening in this country, and is about to happen, will not be cured or averted by commercialtreaties--mark my words. "

"But what would cure it?" said Endymion. 

"There is only one thing that can cure this country, and it will soon betoo late for that. We must have free exchange. "

"Free exchange!" murmured Endymion thoughtfully. 

"Why, look at this, " said Thornberry. "I had been driving a capitaltrade with the States for nearly five years. I began with nothing, asyou know. I had paid off all my borrowed capital; my works were my own, and this house is a freehold. A year ago I sent to my correspondent atNew York the largest consignment of goods I had ever made and the best, and I cannot get the slightest return for them. My correspondent writesto me that there is no end of corn and bread-stuffs which he could send, if we could only receive them; but he knows very well he might as welltry and send them to the moon. The people here are starving and wantthese bread-stuffs, and they are ready to pay for them by the productsof their labour--and your blessed laws prevent them!"

"But these laws did not prevent your carrying on a thriving trade withAmerica for five years, according to your own account, " said Endymion. "I do not question what you say; I am asking only for information. "

"What you say is fairly said, and it has been said before, " repliedThornberry; "but there is nothing in it. We had a trade, and a thrivingtrade, with the States; though, to be sure, it was always fitful andought to have been ten times as much, even during those five years. Butthe fact is, the state of affairs in America was then exceptional. Theywere embarked in great public works in which every one was investing hiscapital; shares and stocks abounded, and they paid us for our goods withthem. "

"Then it would rather seem that they have no capital now to spare topurchase our goods?"

"Not so, " said Thornberry sharply, "as I have shown; but were it so, it does not affect my principle. If there were free exchange, we shouldfind employment and compensation in other countries, even if the Stateswere logged, which I don't believe thirty millions of people withboundless territory ever can be. "

"But after all, " said Endymion, "America is as little in favour of freeexchange as we are. She may send us her bread-stuffs; but her laws willnot admit our goods, except on the payment of enormous duties. "

"Pish!" said Thornberry; "I do not care this for their enormous duties. Let me have free imports, and I will soon settle their duties. "

"To fight hostile tariffs with free imports, " said Endymion; "is notthat fighting against odds?"

"Not a bit. This country has nothing to do but to consider its imports. Foreigners will not give us their products for nothing; but as for theirtariffs, if we were wise men, and looked to our real interests, theirhostile tariffs, as you call them, would soon be falling down like anold wall. "

"Well, I confess, " said Endymion, "I have for some time thought theprinciple of free exchange was a sound one; but its application in acountry like this would be very difficult, and require, I should think, great prudence and moderation. "

"By prudence and moderation you mean ignorance and timidity, " saidThornberry scornfully. 

"Not exactly that, I hope, " said Endymion; "but you cannot deny thatthe home market is a most important element in the consideration of ourpublic wealth, and it mainly rests upon the agriculture of the country. "

"Then it rests upon a very poor foundation, " said Thornberry. 

"But if any persons should be more tempted than others by free exchange, it should be the great body of the consumers of this land, who payunjust and excessive prices for every article they require. No, my dearMr. Ferrars; the question is a very simple one, and we may talk forever, and we shall never alter it. The laws of this country are made bythe proprietors of land, and they make them for their own benefit. A manwith a large estate is said to have a great stake in the country becausesome hundreds of people or so are more or less dependent on him. How hashe a greater interest in the country than a manufacturer who has sunk100, 000 pounds in machinery, and has a thousand people, as I had, receiving from him weekly wages? No home market, indeed! Pah! it is anaffair of rent, and nothing more or less. And England is to be ruinedto keep up rents. Are you going? Well, I am glad we have met. Perhapswe shall have another talk together some day. I shall not return tothe works. There is little doing there, and I must think now of otherthings. The subscriptions to the League begin to come in apace. Say whatthey like in the House of Commons and the vile London press, the thingis stirring. "

Wishing to turn the conversation a little, Endymion asked Mrs. Thornberry whether she occasionally went to London. 

"Never was there, " she said, in a sharp, clear voice; "but I hope to gosoon. "

"You will have a great deal to see. "

"All I want to see, and hear, is the Rev. Servetus Frost, " replied thelady. "My idea of perfect happiness is to hear him every Sunday. Hecomes here sometimes, for his sister is settled here; a very big mill. He preached here a month ago. Should not I have liked the bishop to haveheard him, that's all! But he would not dare to go; he could not answera point. "

"My wife is of the Unitarian persuasion, " said Thornberry. "I am not. Iwas born in our Church, and I keep to it; but I often go to chapel withmy wife. As for religion generally, if a man believes in his Maker anddoes his duty to his neighbours, in my mind that is sufficient. "

Endymion bade them good-bye, and strolled musingly towards his hotel. 

Just as he reached the works again, he encountered Enoch Craggs, who waswalking into Manchester. 

"I am going to our institute, " said Enoch. "I do not know why, but theyhave put me on the committee. "

"And, I doubt not, they did very wisely, " said Endymion. 

"Master Thornberry was glad to see you?" said Enoch. 

"And I was glad to see him. "

"He has got the gift of speech, " said Enoch. 

"And that is a great gift. "

"If wisely exercised, and I will not say he is not exercising it wisely. Certainly for his own purpose, but whether that purpose is for thegeneral good--query?"

"He is against monopoly, " observed Endymion inquiringly. 

"Query again?" said Enoch. 

"Well; he is opposed to the corn laws. "

"The corn laws are very bad laws, " said Enoch, "and the sooner we getrid of them the better. But there are worse things than the corn laws. "

"Hem!" said Endymion. 

"There are the money laws, " said Enoch. 

"I did not know you cared so much about them at Manchester, " saidEndymion. "I thought it was Birmingham that was chiefly interested aboutcurrency. "

"I do not care one jot about currency, " said Enoch; "and, so far asI can judge, the Birmingham chaps talk a deal of nonsense aboutthe matter. Leastwise, they will never convince me that a slipof irredeemable paper is as good as the young queen's head on atwenty-shilling piece. I mean the laws that secure the accumulation ofcapital, by which means the real producers become mere hirelings, andreally are little better than slaves. "

"But surely without capital we should all of us be little better thanslaves?"

"I am not against capital, " replied Enoch. "What I am against iscapitalists. "

"But if we get rid of capitalists we shall soon get rid of capital. "

"No, no, " said Enoch, with his broad accent, shaking his head, and witha laughing eye. "Master Thornberry has been telling you that. He is themost inveterate capitalist of the whole lot; and I always say, thoughthey keep aloof from him at present, they will be all sticking to hisskirts before long. Master Thornberry is against the capitalists inland; but there are other capitalists nearer home, and I know more aboutthem. I was reading a book the other day about King Charles--Charles theFirst, whose head they cut off--I am very liking to that time, and reada good deal about it; and there was Lord Falkland, a great gentleman inthose days, and he said, when Archbishop Laud was trying on some of hispriestly tricks, that, 'if he were to have a pope, he would rather thepope were at Rome than at Lambeth. ' So I sometimes think, if we are tobe ruled by capitalists, I would sooner, perhaps, be ruled by gentlemenof estate, who have been long among us, than by persons who build bigmills, who come from God knows where, and, when they have worked theirmillions out of our flesh and bone, go God knows where. But perhaps weshall get rid of them all some day--landlords and mill-lords. "

"And whom will you substitute for them?"

"The producers, " said Enoch, with a glance half savage, half triumphant. 

"What can workmen do without capital?"

"Why, they make the capital, " said Enoch; "and if they make the capital, is it not strange that they should not be able to contrive some meansto keep the capital? Why, Job was saying the other day that there wasnothing like a principle to work upon. It would carry all before it. Sosay I. And I have a principle too, though it is not Master Thornberry's. But it will carry all before it, though it may not be in my time. But Iam not so sure of that. "

"And what is it?" asked Endymion. 

"CO-OPERATION. "

CHAPTER LXIV

This strangely-revived acquaintance with Job Thornberry was not anunfruitful incident in the life of Endymion. Thornberry was a man oforiginal mind and singular energy; and, although of extreme views oncommercial subjects, all his conclusions were founded on extensive andvarious information, combined with no inconsiderable practice. The mindof Thornberry was essentially a missionary one. He was always ready toconvert people; and he acted with ardour and interest on a youth who, both by his ability and his social position, was qualified to influenceopinion. But this youth was gifted with a calm, wise judgment, ofthe extent and depth of which he was scarcely conscious himself; andThornberry, like all propagandists, was more remarkable for his zeal andhis convictions, than for that observation and perception of characterwhich are the finest elements in the management of men and affairs. 

"What you should do, " said Thornberry, one day, to Endymion, "is to goto Scotland; go to the Glasgow district; that city itself, and Paisley, and Kilmarnock--keep your eye on Paisley. I am much mistaken if therewill not soon be a state of things there which alone will break up thewhole concern. It will burst it, sir; it will burst it. "

So Endymion, without saying anything, quietly went to Glasgow and itsdistrict, and noted enough to make him resolve soon to visit thereagain; but the cabinet reassembled in the early part of November, and hehad to return to his duties. 

In his leisure hours, Endymion devoted himself to the preparation ofa report, for Mr. Sidney Wilton, on the condition and prospects of themanufacturing districts of the North of England, with some illustrativereference to that of the country beyond the Tweed. He concluded itbefore Christmas, and Mr. Wilton took it down with him to Gaydene, tostudy it at his leisure. Endymion passed his holidays with Lord and LadyMontfort, at their southern seat, Princedown. 

Endymion spoke to Lady Montfort a little about his labours, for he hadno secrets from her; but she did not much sympathise with him, thoughshe liked him to be sedulous and to distinguish himself. "Only, " sheobserved, "take care not to be _doctrinaire_, Endymion. I amalways afraid of that with you. It is Sidney's fault; he always was_doctrinaire_. It was a great thing for you becoming his privatesecretary; to be the private secretary of a cabinet minister is a realstep in life, and I shall always be most grateful to Sidney, whom I lovefor appointing you; but still, if I could have had my wish, you shouldhave been Lord Roehampton's private secretary. That is real politics, and he is a real statesman. You must not let Mr. Wilton mislead youabout the state of affairs in the cabinet. The cabinet consists of theprime minister and Lord Roehampton, and, if they are united, all therest is vapour. And they will not consent to any nonsense about touchingthe corn laws; you may be sure of that. Besides, I will tell you asecret, which is not yet Pulchinello's secret, though I daresay it willbe known when we all return to town--we shall have a great event whenparliament meets; a royal marriage. What think you of that? The youngqueen is going to be married, and to a young prince, like a prince ina fairy tale. As Lord Roehampton wrote to me this morning, 'Our royalmarriage will be much more popular than the Anti-Corn-Law League. '"

The royal marriage was very popular; but, unfortunately, it reflected nosplendour on the ministry. The world blessed the queen and cheeredthe prince, but shook its head at the government. Sir Robert Peelalso--whether from his own motive or the irresistible impulse of hisparty need not now be inquired into--sanctioned a direct attack onthe government, in the shape of a vote of want of confidence in them, immediately the court festivities were over, and the attack was defeatedby a narrow majority. 

"Nothing could be more unprincipled, " said Berengaria, "after he hadrefused to take office last year. As for our majority, it is, under suchcircumstances, twenty times more than we want. As Lord Roehampton says, one is enough. "

Trade and revenue continued to decline. There was again the prospect ofa deficiency. The ministry, too, was kept in by the Irish vote, andthe Irish then were very unpopular. The cabinet itself generally wasdowncast, and among themselves occasionally murmured a regret that theyhad not retired when the opportunity offered in the preceding year. Berengaria, however, would not bate an inch of confidence and courage. "You think too much, " she said to Endymion, "of trade and finance. Tradealways comes back, and finance never ruined a country, or an individualeither if he had pluck. Mr. Sidney Wilton is a croaker. The thingshe fears will never happen; or, if they do, will turn out to beunimportant. Look to Lord Roehampton; he is the man. He does not care arush whether the revenue increases or declines. He is thinking of realpolitics: foreign affairs; maintaining our power in Europe. Somethingwill happen, before the session is over, in the Mediterranean;" and shepressed her finger to her lip, and then she added, "The country willsupport Lord Roehampton as they supported Pitt, and give him any amountof taxes that he likes. "

In the meantime, the social world had its incidents as well as thepolitical, and not less interesting. Not one of the most insignificant, perhaps, was the introduction into society of the Countess of Beaumaris. Her husband, sacrificing even his hunting, had come up to town at themeeting of parliament, and received his friends in a noble mansion onPiccadilly Terrace. All its equipments were sumptuous and refined, and everything had been arranged under the personal supervision of Mr. Waldershare. They commenced very quietly; dinners little butconstant, and graceful and finished as a banquet of Watteau. No formalinvitations; men were brought in to dinner from the House of Lords "justup, " or picked up, as it were carelessly, in the House of Commons byMr. Waldershare, or were asked by Imogene, at a dozen hours' notice, inbillets of irresistible simplicity. Soon it was whispered about, thatthe thing to do was to dine with Beaumaris, and that Lady Beaumaris was"something too delightful. " Prince Florestan frequently dined there;Waldershare always there, in a state of coruscation; and every man offashion in the opposite ranks, especially if they had brains. 

Then, in a little time, it was gently hoped that Imogene should callon their wives and mothers, or their wives and mothers call on her; andthen she received, without any formal invitation, twice a week; andas there was nothing going on in London, or nothing half so charming, everybody who was anybody came to Piccadilly Terrace; and so as, after long observation, a new planet is occasionally discovered by aphilosopher, thus society suddenly and indubitably discovered that therewas at last a Tory house. 

Lady Roehampton, duly apprised of affairs by her brother, had called onLord and Lady Beaumaris, and had invited them to her house. It was thefirst appearance of Imogene in general society, and it was successful. Her large brown eyes, and long black lashes, her pretty mouth anddimple, her wondrous hair--which, it was whispered, unfolded, touchedthe ground--struck every one, and the dignified simplicity of hercarriage was attractive. Her husband never left her side; while Mr. Waldershare was in every part of the saloons, watching her from distantpoints, to see how she got on, or catching the remarks of others on herappearance. Myra was kind to her as well as courteous, and, when thestream of arriving guests had somewhat ceased, sought her out and spoketo her; and then put her arm in hers, walked with her for a moment, and introduced her to one or two great personages, who had previouslyintimated their wish or their consent to that effect. Lady Montfort wasnot one of these. When parties are equal, and the struggle for power isintense, society loses much of its sympathy and softness. Lady Montfortcould endure the presence of Tories, provided they were her kinsfolk, and would join, even at their houses, in traditionary festivities; butshe shrank from passing the line, and at once had a prejudice againstImogene, who she instinctively felt might become a power for the enemy. 

"I will not have you talk so much to that Lady Beaumaris, " she said toEndymion. 

"She is an old friend of mine, " he replied. 

"How could you have known her? She was a shop-girl, was not she, orsomething of that sort?"

"She and her family were very kind to me when I was not much better thana shop-boy myself, " replied Endymion, with a mantling cheek. "They aremost respectable people, and I have a great regard for her. "

"Indeed! Well; I will not keep you from your Tory woman, " saidBerengaria rudely; and she walked away. 

Altogether, this season of '40 was not a very satisfactory one in anyrespect, as regarded society or the country in general. Party passionwas at its highest. The ministry retained office almost by a castingvote; were frequently defeated on important questions; and whenever avacancy occurred, it was filled by their opponents. Their unpopularityincreased daily, and it was stimulated by the general distress. All thatJob Thornberry had predicted as to the state of manufacturing Scotlandduly occurred. Besides manufacturing distress, they had to encounter aseries of bad harvests. Never was a body of statesmen placed in a moreembarrassing and less enviable position. There was a prevalent, though unfounded, conviction that they were maintained in power by acombination of court favour with Irish sedition. 

Lady Montfort and Lord Roehampton were the only persons who never lostheart. She was defiant; and he ever smiled, at least in public. "Whatnonsense!" she would say. "Mr. Sidney Wilton talks about the revenuefalling off! As if the revenue could ever really fall off! And then ourbad harvests. Why, that is the very reason we shall have an excellentharvest this year. You cannot go on always having bad harvests. Besides, good harvests never make a ministry popular. Nobody thanks a ministryfor a good harvest. What makes a ministry popular is some great _coup_in foreign affairs. "

Amid all these exciting disquietudes, Endymion pursued a life ofenjoyment, but also of observation and much labour. He lived moreand more with the Montforts, but the friendship of Berengaria was notfrivolous. Though she liked him to be seen where he ought to figure, andrequired a great deal of attention herself, she ever impressed on himthat his present life was only a training for a future career, and thathis mind should ever be fixed on the attainment of a high position. Particularly she impressed on him the importance of being a linguist. "There will be a reaction some day from all this political economy, "she would say, "and then there will be no one ready to take the helm. "Endymion was not unworthy of the inspiring interest which Lady Montforttook in him. The terrible vicissitudes of his early years had gravelyimpressed his character. Though ambitious, he was prudent; and, thoughborn to please and be pleased, he was sedulous and self-restrained. Though naturally deeply interested in the fortunes of his politicalfriends, and especially of Lord Roehampton and Mr. Wilton, a carefulscrutiny of existing circumstances had prepared him for an inevitablechange; and, remembering what was their position but a few years back, he felt that his sister and himself should be reconciled to theiraltered lot, and be content. She would still be a peeress, and the happywife of an illustrious man; and he himself, though he would have torelapse into the drudgery of a public office, would meet duties thedischarge of which was once the object of his ambition, coupled now withan adequate income and with many friends. 

And among those friends, there were none with whom he maintained hisrelations more intimately than with the Neuchatels. He was often theirguest both in town and at Hainault, and he met them frequently insociety, always at the receptions of Lady Montfort and his sister. Zenobia used sometimes to send him a card; but these condescendingrecognitions of late had ceased, particularly as the great dame heardhe was "always at that Lady Beaumaris's. " One of the social incidents ofhis circle, not the least interesting to him, was the close attendanceof Adriana and her mother on the ministrations of Nigel Penruddock. Theyhad become among the most devoted of his flock; and this, too, when therapid and startling development of his sacred offices had so alarmedthe easy, though sagacious, Lord Roehampton, that he had absolutelyexpressed his wish to Myra that she should rarely attend them, and, indeed, gradually altogether drop a habit which might ultimatelycompromise her. Berengaria had long ago quitted him. This was attributedto her reputed caprice, yet it was not so. "I like a man to bepractical, " she said. "When I asked for a deanery for him the other day, the prime minister said he could hardly make a man a dean who believedin the Real Presence. " Nigel's church, however, was more crowded thanever, and a large body of the clergy began to look upon him as thecoming man. 

Towards the end of the year the "great _coup_ in foreign affairs, " whichLady Montfort had long brooded over, and indeed foreseen, occurred, andtook the world, who were all thinking of something else, entirely bysurprise. A tripartite alliance of great powers had suddenly startedinto life; the Egyptian host was swept from the conquered plains ofAsia Minor and Syria by English blue-jackets; St. Jean d'Acre, which hadbaffled the great Napoleon, was bombarded and taken by a British fleet;and the whole fortunes of the world in a moment seemed changed, andpermanently changed. 

"I am glad it did not occur in the season, " said Zenobia. "I reallycould not stand Lady Montfort if it were May. "

The ministry was elate, and their Christmas was right merrie. Thereseemed good cause for this. It was a triumph of diplomatic skill, national valour, and administrative energy. Myra was prouder of herhusband than ever, and, amid all the excitement, he smiled on her withsunny fondness. Everybody congratulated her. She gave a little receptionbefore the holidays, to which everybody came who was in town or passingthrough. Even Zenobia appeared; but she stayed a very short time, talking very rapidly. Prince Florestan paid his grave devoirs, with agaze which seemed always to search into Lady Roehampton's inmostheart, yet never lingering about her; and Waldershare, full ofwondrous compliments and conceits, and really enthusiastic, for heever sympathised with action; and Imogene, gorgeous with the Beaumarissapphires; and Sidney Wilton, who kissed his hostess's hand, andAdriana, who kissed her cheek. 

"I tell you what, Mr. Endymion, " said Mr. Neuchatel, "you shouldmake Lord Roehampton your Chancellor of the Exchequer, and then yourgovernment might perhaps go on a little. "

CHAPTER LXV

But, as Mr. Tadpole observed, with much originality, at the Carlton, they were dancing on a volcano. It was December, and the harvest wasnot yet all got in, the spring corn had never grown, and the wheat wasrusty; there was, he well knew, another deficiency in the revenue, to becounted by millions; wise men shook their heads and said the trade wasleaving the country, and it was rumoured that the whole population ofPaisley lived on the rates. 

"Lord Roehampton thinks that something must be done about the cornlaws, " murmured Berengaria one day to Endymion, rather crestfallen;"but they will try sugar and timber first. I think it all nonsense, butnonsense is sometimes necessary. "

This was the first warning of that famous budget of 1841 which led tosuch vast consequences, and which, directly or indirectly, gave such anew form and colour to English politics. Sidney Wilton and his friendswere at length all-powerful in the cabinet, because, in reality, therewas nobody to oppose them. The vessel was waterlogged. The premiershrugged his shoulders; and Lord Roehampton said, "We may as well tryit, because the alternative is, we shall have to resign. "

Affairs went on badly for the ministry during the early part of thesession. They were more than once in a minority, and on Irish questions, which then deeply interested the country; but they had resolved thattheir fate should be decided by their financial measures, and Mr. SidneyWilton and his friends were still sanguine as to the result. On the lastday of April the Chancellor of the Exchequer introduced the budget, andproposed to provide for the deficiency by reducing the protectiveduties on sugar and timber. A few days after, the leader of the Houseof Commons himself announced a change in the corn laws, and the intendedintroduction of grain at various-priced duties per quarter. 

Then commenced the struggle of a month. Ultimately, Sir Robert Peelhimself gave notice of a resolution of want of confidence in theministry; and after a week's debate, it was carried, in an almostcomplete house, by a majority of one!

It was generally supposed that the ministry would immediately resign. Their new measures had not revived their popularity, and the parliamentin which they had been condemned had been elected under their own adviceand influence. Mr. Sidney Wilton had even told Endymion to get theirpapers in order; and all around the somewhat dejected private secretarythere were unmistakable signs of that fatal flitting which is peculiarlysickening to the youthful politician. 

He was breakfasting in his rooms at the Albany with not a good appetite. Although he had for some time contemplated the possibility of suchchanges--and contemplated them, as he thought, with philosophy--whenit came to reality and practice, he found his spirit was by no means socalm, or his courage so firm, as he had counted on. The charms ofoffice arrayed themselves before him. The social influence, the secretinformation, the danger, the dexterity, the ceaseless excitement, thedelights of patronage which everybody affects to disregard, the powerof benefiting others, and often the worthy and unknown which is a realjoy--in eight-and-forty hours or so, all these, to which he had now beenused for some time, and which with his plastic disposition had becomea second nature, were to vanish, and probably never return. Why shouldthey? He took the gloomiest view of the future, and his inward soulacknowledged that the man the country wanted was Peel. Why might he notgovern as long as Pitt? He probably would. Peel! his father's friend!And this led to a train of painful but absorbing memories, and he satmusing and abstracted, fiddling with an idle egg-spoon. 

His servant came in with a note, which he eagerly opened. It ran thus:"I must see you instantly. I am here in the brougham, Cork Street end. Come directly. B. M. "

Endymion had to walk up half the Albany, and marked the brougham thewhole way. There was in it an eager and radiant face. 

"You had better get in, " said Lady Montfort, "for in these stirringtimes some of the enemy may be passing. And now, " she continued, whenthe door was fairly shut, "nobody knows it, not five people. They aregoing to dissolve. "

"To dissolve!" exclaimed Endymion. "Will that help us?"

"Very likely, " said Berengaria. "We have had our share of bad luck, and now we may throw in. Cheap bread is a fine cry. Indeed it is tooshocking that there should be laws which add to the price of whateverybody agrees is the staff of life. But you do nothing but stare, Endymion; I thought you would be in a state of the greatest excitement!"

"I am rather stunned than excited. "

"Well, but you must not be stunned, you must act. This is a crisis forour party, but it is something more for you. It is your climacteric. They may lose; but you must win, if you will only bestir yourself. Seethe whips directly, and get the most certain seat you can. Nothing mustprevent your being in the new parliament. "

"I see everything to prevent it, " said Endymion. "I have no means ofgetting into parliament--no means of any kind. "

"Means must be found, " said Lady Montfort. "We cannot stop now to talkabout means. That would be a mere waste of time. The thing must be done. I am now going to your sister, to consult with her. All you have got todo is to make up your mind that you will be in the next parliament, andyou will succeed; for everything in this world depends upon will. "

"I think everything in this world depends upon woman, " said Endymion. 

"It is the same thing, " said Berengaria. 

Adriana was with Lady Roehampton when Lady Montfort was announced. 

Adriana came to console; but she herself was not without solace, for, ifthere were a change of government, she would see more of her friend. 

"Well; I was prepared for it, " said Lady Roehampton. "I have always beenexpecting something ever since what they called the Bed-Chamber Plot. "

"Well; it gave us two years, " said Lady Montfort; "and we are not outyet. "

Here were three women, young, beautiful, and powerful, and all friendsof Endymion--real friends. Property does not consist merely of parksand palaces, broad acres, funds in many forms, services of plate, andcollections of pictures. The affections of the heart are property, andthe sympathy of the right person is often worth a good estate. 

These three charming women were cordial, and embraced each other whenthey met; but the conversation flagged, and the penetrating eye of Myraread in the countenance of Lady Montfort the urgent need of confidence. 

"So, dearest Adriana, " said Lady Roehampton, "we will drive out togetherat three o'clock. I will call on you. " And Adriana disappeared. 

"You know it?" said Lady Montfort when they were alone. "Of course youknow it. Besides, I know you know it. What I have come about is this;your brother must be in the new parliament. "

"I have not seen him; I have not mentioned it to him, " said Myra, somewhat hesitatingly. 

"I have seen him; I have mentioned it to him, " said Lady Montfortdecidedly. "He makes difficulties; there must be none. He will consultyou. I came on at once that you might be prepared. No difficulty must beadmitted. His future depends on it. "

"I live for his future, " said Lady Roehampton. 

"He will talk to you about money. These things always cost money. As ageneral rule, nobody has money who ought to have it. I know dear LordRoehampton is very kind to you; but, all his life, he never had too muchmoney at his command; though why, I never could make out. And my lordhas always had too much money; but I do not much care to talk to himabout these affairs. The thing must be done. What is the use of adiamond necklace if you cannot help a friend into parliament? But all Iwant to know now is that you will throw no difficulties in his way. Helphim, too, if you can. "

"I wish Endymion had married, " replied Myra. 

"Well; I do not see how that would help affairs, " said Lady Montfort. "Besides, I dislike married men. They are very uninteresting. "

"I mean, I wish, " said Lady Roehampton musingly, "that he had made agreat match. "

"That is not very easy, " said Lady Montfort, "and great matchesare generally failures. All the married heiresses I have known haveshipwrecked. "

"And yet it is possible to marry an heiress and love her, " said Myra. 

"It is possible, but very improbable. "

"I think one might easily love the person who has just left the room. "

"Miss Neuchatel?"

"Adriana. Do not you agree with me?"

"Miss Neuchatel will never marry, " said Lady Montfort, "unless she losesher fortune. "

"Well; do you know, I have sometimes thought that she liked Endymion?I never could encourage such a feeling; and Endymion, I am sure, wouldnot. I wish, I almost wish, " added Lady Roehampton, trying to speakwith playfulness, "that you would use your magic influence, dear LadyMontfort, and bring it about. He would soon get into parliament then. "

"I have tried to marry Miss Neuchatel once, " said Lady Montfort, with amantling cheek, "and I am glad to say I did not succeed. My match-makingis over. "

There was a dead silence; one of those still moments which almost seeminconsistent with life, certainly with the presence of more than onehuman being. Lady Roehampton seemed buried in deep thought. She wasquite abstracted, her eyes fixed, and fixed upon the ground. All thehistory of her life passed through her brain--all the history of theirlives; from the nursery to this proud moment, proud even with all itssearching anxiety. And yet the period of silence could be counted almostby seconds. Suddenly she looked up with a flushed cheek and a dazedlook, and said, "It must be done. "

Lady Montfort sprang forward with a glance radiant with hope and energy, and kissed her on both cheeks. "Dearest Lady Roehampton, " she exclaimed, "dearest Myra! I knew you would agree with me. Yes! it must be done. "

"You will see him perhaps before I do?" inquired Myra ratherhesitatingly. 

"I see him every day at the same time, " replied Lady Montfort. "Hegenerally walks down to the House of Commons with Mr. Wilton, and whenthey have answered questions, and he has got all the news of the lobby, he comes to me. I always manage to get home from my drive to give himhalf an hour before dinner. "

CHAPTER LXVI

Lady Montfort drove off to the private residence of the Secretary ofthe Treasury, who was of course in the great secret. She looked over hislists, examined his books, and seemed to have as much acquaintance withelectioneering details as that wily and experienced gentleman himself. "Is there anything I can do?" she repeatedly inquired; "command mewithout compunction. Is it any use giving any parties? Can I write anyletters? Can I see anybody?"

"If you could stir up my lord a little?" said the secretary inquiringly. 

"Well, that is difficult, " said Lady Montfort, "perhaps impossible. Butyou have all his influence, and when there is a point that presses youmust let me know. "

"If he would only speak to his agents?" said the secretary, "but theysay he will not, and he has a terrible fellow in ----shire, who I hearis one of the stewards for a dinner to Sir Robert. "

"I have stopped all that, " said Lady Montfort. "That was Odo's doing, who is himself not very sound; full of prejudices about O'Connell, andall that stuff. But he must go with his party. You need not fear abouthim. "

"Well! it is a leap in the dark, " said the secretary. 

"Oh! no, " said Lady Montfort, "all will go right. A starving people mustbe in favour of a government who will give them bread for nothing. Bythe by, there is one thing, my dear Mr. Secretary, you must remember. Imust have one seat, a certain seat, reserved for my nomination. "

"A certain seat in these days is a rare gem, " said the secretary. 

"Yes, but I must have it nevertheless, " said Lady Montfort. "I don'tcare about the cost or the trouble--but it must be certain. "

Then she went home and wrote a line to Endymion, to tell him that it wasall settled, that she had seen his sister, who agreed with her that itmust be done, and that she had called on the Secretary of the Treasury, and had secured a certain seat. "I wish you could come to luncheon, " sheadded, "but I suppose that is impossible; you are always so busy. Whywere you not in the Foreign Office? I am now going to call on the Torywomen to see how they look, but I shall be at home a good while beforeseven, and of course count on seeing you. "

In the meantime, Endymion by no means shared the pleasurable excitementof his fair friend. His was an agitated walk from the Albany toWhitehall, where he resumed his duties moody and disquieted. There was alarge correspondence this morning, which was a distraction and a relief, until the bell of Mr. Sidney Wilton sounded, and he was in attendance onhis chief. 

"It is a great secret, " said Mr. Wilton, "but I think I ought to tellyou; instead of resigning, the government have decided to dissolve. Ithink it a mistake, but I stand by my friends. They believe the Irishvote will be very large, and with cheap bread will carry us through. I think the stronger we shall be in Ireland the weaker we shall be inEngland, and I doubt whether our cheap bread will be cheap enough. TheseManchester associations have altered the aspect of affairs. I have beenthinking a good deal about your position. I should like, before we brokeup, to have seen you provided for by some permanent office of importancein which you might have been useful to the state, but it is difficult tomanage these things suddenly. However, now we have time at any rate tolook about us. Still, if I could have seen you permanently attachedto this office in a responsible position, I should have been glad. Iimpressed upon the chief yesterday that you are most fit for it. "

"Oh! do not think of me, dear sir; you have been always too kind to me. I shall be content with my lot. All I shall regret is ceasing to serveyou. "

Lady Montfort's carriage drove up to Montfort House just as Endymionreached the door. She took his arm with eagerness; she seemed breathlesswith excitement. "I fear I am very late, but if you had gone away Ishould never have pardoned you. I have been kept by listening to all thenew appointments from Lady Bellasyse. They quite think we are out; youmay be sure I did not deny it. I have so much to tell you. Come into mylord's room; he is away fishing. Think of fishing at such a crisis! Icannot tell you how pleased I was with my visit to Lady Roehampton. Shequite agreed with me in everything. 'It must be done, ' she said. Howevery right! and I have almost done it. I will have a certain seat; nochances. Let us have something to fall back upon. If not in office weshall be in opposition. All men must sometime or other be in opposition. There you will form yourself. It is a great thing to have had someofficial experience. It will save you from mares' nests, and I will giveparties without end, and never rest till I see you prime minister. "

So she threw herself into her husband's easy chair, tossed her parasolon the table, and then she said, "But what is the matter with you, Endymion? you look quite sad. You do not mean you really take ourdefeat--which is not certain yet--so much to heart. Believe me, opposition has its charms; indeed, I sometimes think the principalreason why I have enjoyed our ministerial life so much is, that it hasbeen from the first a perpetual struggle for existence. "

"I do not pretend to be quite indifferent to the probably impendingchange, " said Endymion, "but I cannot say there is anything about itwhich would affect my feelings very deeply. "

"What is it, then?"

"It is this business about which you and Myra are so kindly interestingyourselves, " said Endymion with some emotion; "I do not think I could gointo parliament. "

"Not go into parliament!" exclaimed Lady Montfort. "Why, what are menmade for except to go into parliament? I am indeed astounded. "

"I do not disparage parliament, " said Endymion; "much the reverse. Itis a life that I think would suit me, and I have often thought the daymight come"----

"The day has come, " said Lady Montfort, "and not a bit too soon. Mr. Foxwent in before he was of age, and all young men of spirit should do thesame. Why! you are two-and-twenty!"

"It is not my age, " said Endymion hesitatingly; "I am not afraid aboutthat, for from the life which I have led of late years, I know a gooddeal about the House of Commons. "

"Then what is it, dear Endymion?" said Lady Montfort impatiently. 

"It will make a great change in my life, " said Endymion calmly, but withearnestness, "and one which I do not feel justified in accepting. "

"I repeat to you, that you need give yourself no anxiety about theseat, " said Lady Montfort. "It will not cost you a shilling. I and yoursister have arranged all that. As she very wisely said, 'It must bedone, ' and it is done. All you have to do is to write an address, andmake plenty of speeches, and you are M. P. For life, or as long as youlike. "

"Possibly; a parliamentary adventurer, I might swim or I might sink; thechances are it would be the latter, for storms would arise, when thosedisappear who have no root in the country, and no fortune to secure thembreathing time and a future. "

"Well, I did not expect, when you handed me out of my carriage to-day, that I was going to listen to a homily on prudence. "

"It is not very romantic, I own, " said Endymion, "but my prudence isat any rate not a commonplace caught up from copy-books. I am onlytwo-and-twenty, but I have had some experience, and it has been verybitter. I have spoken to you, dearest lady, sometimes of my earlierlife, for I wished you to be acquainted with it, but I observed also youalways seemed to shrink from such confidence, and I ceased from touchingon what I saw did not interest you. "

"Quite a mistake. It greatly interested me. I know all about you andeverything. I know you were not always a clerk in a public office, butthe spoiled child of splendour. I know your father was a dear good man, but he made a mistake, and followed the Duke of Wellington instead ofMr. Canning. Had he not, he would probably be alive now, and certainlySecretary of State, like Mr. Sidney Wilton. But _you_ must not make amistake, Endymion. My business in life, and your sister's too, is toprevent your making mistakes. And you are on the eve of making a verygreat one if you lose this golden opportunity. Do not think of the past;you dwell on it too much. Be like me, live in the present, and when youdream, dream of the future. "

"Ah! the present would be adequate, it would be fascination, if I alwayshad such a companion as Lady Montfort, " said Endymion, shaking his head. "What surprises me most, what indeed astounds me, is that Myra shouldjoin in this counsel--Myra, who knows all, and who has felt it perhapsdeeper even than I did. But I will not obtrude these thoughts onyou, best and dearest of friends. I ought not to have made to you theallusions to my private position which I have done, but it seemed to methe only way to explain my conduct, otherwise inexplicable. "

"And to whom ought you to say these things if not to me, " said LadyMontfort, "whom you called just now your best and dearest friend? I wishto be such to you. Perhaps I have been too eager, but, at any rate, itwas eagerness for your welfare. Let us then be calm. Speak to me asyou would to Myra. I cannot be your twin, but I can be your sister infeeling. "

He took her hand and gently pressed it to his lips; his eyes would havebeen bedewed, had not the dreadful sorrows and trials of his life muchchecked his native susceptibility. Then speaking in a serious tone, he said, "I am not without ambition, dearest Lady Montfort; I have hadvisions which would satisfy even you; but partly from my temperament, still more perhaps from the vicissitudes of my life, I have considerablewaiting powers. I think if one is patient and watches, all will come ofwhich one is capable; but no one can be patient who is not independent. My wants are moderate, but their fulfilment must be certain. Thebreak-up of the government, which deprives me of my salary as a privatesecretary, deprives me of luxuries which I can do without--a horse, a brougham, a stall at the play, a flower in my button-hole--but myclerkship is my freehold. As long as I possess it, I can study, I canwork, I can watch and comprehend all the machinery of government. I canmove in society, without which a public man, whatever his talents oracquirements, is in life playing at blind-man's buff. I must sacrificethis citadel of my life if I go into parliament. Do not be offended, therefore, if I say to you, as I shall say to Myra, I have made up mymind not to surrender it. It is true I have the misfortune to be a yearolder than Charles Fox when he entered the senate, but even with thisgreat disadvantage I am sometimes conceited enough to believe that Ishall succeed, and to back myself against the field. "

CHAPTER LXVII

Mr. Waldershare was delighted when the great secret was out, and hefound that the ministry intended to dissolve, and not resign. It was ona Monday that Lord John Russell made this announcement, and Waldersharemet Endymion in the lobby of the House of Commons. "I congratulate you, my dear boy; your fellows, at least, have pluck. If they lose, which Ithink they will, they will have gained at least three months of power, and irresponsible power. Why! they may do anything in the interval, andno doubt will. You will see; they will make their chargers consuls. Itbeats the Bed-Chamber Plot, and I always admired that. One hundred days!Why, the Second Empire lasted only one hundred days. But what days! whatexcitement! They were worth a hundred years at Elba. "

"Your friends do not seem quite so pleased as you are, " said Endymion. 

"My friends, as you call them, are old fogies, and want to divide thespoil among the ancient hands. It will be a great thing for Peel to getrid of some of these old friends. A dissolution permits the powerful toshow their power. There is Beaumaris, for example; now he will have anopportunity of letting them know who Lord Beaumaris is. I have a dream;he must be Master of the Horse. I shall never rest till I see Imogeneriding in that golden coach, and breaking the line with all the honoursof royalty. "

"Mr. Ferrars, " said the editor of a newspaper, seizing his watched-foropportunity as Waldershare and Endymion separated, "do you think youcould favour me this evening with Mr. Sidney Wilton's address? We havealways supported Mr. Wilton's views on the corn laws, and if put clearlyand powerfully before the country at this junction, the effect might begreat, perhaps even, if sustained, decisive. "

Eight-and-forty hours and more had elapsed since the conversationbetween Endymion and Lady Montfort; they had not been happy days. Forthe first time during their acquaintance there had been constraint andembarrassment between them. Lady Montfort no longer opposed his views, but she did not approve them. She avoided the subject; she lookeduninterested in all that was going on around her; talked of joining herlord and going a-fishing; felt he was right in his views of life. "DearSimon was always right, " and then she sighed, and then she shruggedher pretty shoulders. Endymion, though he called on her as usual, foundthere was nothing to converse about; politics seemed tacitly forbidden, and when he attempted small talk Lady Montfort seemed absent--and onceabsolutely yawned. 

What amazed Endymion still more was, that, under these ratherdistressing circumstances, he did not find adequate support and sympathyin his sister. Lady Roehampton did not question the propriety of hisdecision, but she seemed quite as unhappy and as dissatisfied as LadyMontfort. 

"What you say, dearest Endymion, is quite unanswerable, and I aloneperhaps can really know that; but what I feel is, I have failed in life. My dream was to secure you greatness, and now, when the first occasionarrives, it seems I am more than powerless. "

"Dearest sister! you have done so much for me. "

"Nothing, " said Lady Roehampton; "what I have done for you would havebeen done by every sister in this metropolis. I dreamed of other things;I fancied, with my affection and my will, I could command events, andplace you on a pinnacle. I see my folly now; others have controlled yourlife, not I--as was most natural; natural, but still bitter. "

"Dearest Myra!"

"It is so, Endymion. Let us deceive ourselves no longer. I ought notto have rested until you were in a position which would have made you amaster of your destiny. "

"But if there should be such a thing as destiny, it will not submit tothe mastery of man. "

"Do not split words with me; you know what I mean; you feel what I mean;I mean much more than I say, and you understand much more than I say. Mylord told me to ask you to dine with us, if you called, but I will notask you. There is no joy in meeting at present. I feel as I felt in ourlast year at Hurstley. "

"Oh! don't say that, dear Myra!" and Endymion sprang forward and kissedher very much. "Trust me; all will come right; a little patience, andall will come right. "

"I have had patience enough in life, " said Lady Roehampton; "years ofpatience, the most doleful, the most dreary, the most dark and tragical. And I bore it all, and I bore it well, because I thought of you, andhad confidence in you, and confidence in your star; and because, likean idiot, I had schooled myself to believe that, if I devoted my will toyou, that star would triumph. "

So, the reader will see, that our hero was not in a very serene andgenial mood when he was buttonholed by the editor in the lobby, and, itis feared, he was unusually curt with that gentleman, which editors donot like, and sometimes reward with a leading article in consequence, on the character and career of our political chief, perhaps with somepassing reference to jacks-in-office, and the superficial impertinenceof private secretaries. These wise and amiable speculators on publicaffairs should, however, sometimes charitably remember that evenministers have their chagrins, and that the trained temper andimperturbable presence of mind of their aides-de-camp are not absolutelyproof to all the infirmities of human nature. 

Endymion had returned home from the lobby, depressed and dispirited. Thelast incident of our life shapes and colours our feelings. Ever sincehe had settled in London, his life might be said to have been happy, gradually and greatly prosperous. The devotion of his sister and theeminent position she had achieved, the friendship of Lady Montfort, andthe kindness of society, who had received him with open arms, his easycircumstances after painful narrowness of means, his honourable andinteresting position--these had been the chief among many other causeswhich had justly rendered Endymion Ferrars a satisfied and contentedman. And it was more than to be hoped that not one of these sourceswould be wanting in his future. And yet he felt dejected, even tounhappiness. Myra figured to his painful consciousness only as deeplywounded in her feelings, and he somehow the cause; Lady Montfort, fromwhom he had never received anything but smiles and inspiring kindness, and witty raillery, and affectionate solicitude for his welfare, offended and estranged. And as for society, perhaps it would makea great difference in his position if he were no longer a privatesecretary to a cabinet minister and only a simple clerk; he could not, even at this melancholy moment, dwell on his impending loss of income, though that increase at the time had occasioned him, and those who lovedhim, so much satisfaction. And yet was he in fault? Had his decisionbeen a narrow-minded and craven one? He could not bring himself tobelieve so--his conscience assured him that he had acted rightly. Afterall that he had experienced, he was prepared to welcome an obscure, butcould not endure a humiliating position. 

It was a long summer evening. The House had not sat after theannouncement of the ministers. The twilight lingered with a charm almostas irresistible as among woods and waters. Endymion had been engagedto dine out, but had excused himself. Had it not been for the Montfortmisunderstanding, he would have gone; but that haunted him. He had notcalled on her that day; he really had not courage to meet her. He wasbeginning to think that he might never see her again; never, certainly, on the same terms. She had the reputation of being capricious, thoughshe had been constant in her kindness to him. Never see her again, oronly see her changed! He was not aware of the fulness of his miserybefore; he was not aware, until this moment, that unless he saw herevery day life would be intolerable. 

He sat down at his table, covered with notes in every female handwritingexcept the right one, and with cards of invitation to banquets and ballsand concerts, and "very earlies, " and carpet dances--for our friendwas a very fashionable young man--but what is the use of even beingfashionable, if the person you love cares for you no more? And so out ofvery wantonness, instead of opening notes sealed or stamped with everyform of coronet, he took up a business-like epistle, closed only witha wafer, and saying in drollery, "I should think a dun, " he took out ascript receipt for 20, 000 pounds consols, purchased that morning inthe name of Endymion Ferrars, Esq. It was enclosed in half a sheet ofnote-paper, on which were written these words, in a handwriting whichgave no clue of acquaintanceship, or even sex: "Mind--you are to send meyour first frank. "

CHAPTER LXVIII

It was useless to ask who could it be? It could only be one person; andyet how could it have been managed? So completely and so promptly! Herlord, too, away; the only being, it would seem, who could have effectedfor her such a purpose, and he the last individual to whom, perhaps, shewould have applied. Was it a dream? The long twilight was dying away, and it dies away in the Albany a little sooner than it does in ParkLane; and so he lit the candles on his mantel-piece, and then againunfolded the document carefully, and read it and re-read it. It was nota dream. He held in his hand firmly, and read with his eyes clearly, the evidence that he was the uncontrolled master of no slight amount ofcapital, and which, if treated with prudence, secured to him for life anabsolute and becoming independence. His heart beat and his cheek glowed. 

What a woman! And how true were Myra's last words at Hurstley, thatwomen would be his best friends in life! He ceased to think; and, dropping into his chair, fell into a reverie, in which the past andthe future seemed to blend, with some mingling of a vague and almostecstatic present. It was a dream of fair women, and even fairerthoughts, domestic tenderness and romantic love, mixed up with strangevicissitudes of lofty and fiery action, and passionate passages ofeloquence and power. The clock struck and roused him from his musing. He fell from the clouds. Could he accept this boon? Was his doing soconsistent with that principle of independence on which he had resolvedto build up his life? The boon thus conferred might be recalled andreturned; not legally indeed, but by a stronger influence than anylaw--the consciousness on his part that the feeling of interest in hislife which had prompted it might change--would, must change. It was theromantic impulse of a young and fascinating woman, who had been to himinvariably kind, but who had a reputation for caprice, which was notunknown to him. It was a wild and beautiful adventure; but only that. 

He walked up and down his rooms for a long time, sometimes thinking, sometimes merely musing; sometimes in a pleased but gently agitatedstate of almost unconsciousness. At last he sate down at hiswriting-table, and wrote for some time; and then directing the letterto the Countess of Montfort, he resolved to change the current of histhoughts, and went to a club. 

Morning is not romantic. Romance is the twilight spell; but morn isbright and joyous, prompt with action, and full of sanguine hope. Lifehas few difficulties in the morning, at least, none which we cannotconquer; and a private secretary to a minister, young and prosperous, athis first meal, surrounded by dry toast, all the newspapers, and pilesof correspondence, asking and promising everything, feels with pride anddelight the sense of powerful and responsible existence. Endymion hadglanced at all the leading articles, had sorted in the correspondencethe grain from the chaff, and had settled in his mind those who must beanswered and those who must be seen. The strange incident of lastnight was of course not forgotten, but removed, as it were, from hisconsciousness in the bustle and pressure of active life, when hisservant brought him a letter in a handwriting he knew right well. Hewould not open it till he was alone, and then it was with a beatingheart and a burning cheek. 

LADY MONTFORT'S LETTER

"What is it all about? and what does it all mean? I should have thoughtsome great calamity had occurred if, however distressing, it did notappear in some sense to be gratifying. What is gratifying? You deal inconundrums, which I never could find out. Of course I shall be at hometo you at any time, if you wish to see me. Pray come on at once, as Idetest mysteries. I went to the play last night with your sister. Weboth of us rather expected to see you, but it seems neither of us hadmentioned to you we were going. I did not, for I was too low-spiritedabout your affairs. You lost nothing. The piece was stupid beyondexpression. We laughed heartily, at least I did, to show we were notafraid. My lord came home last night suddenly. Odo is going to stand forthe county, and his borough is vacant. What an opportunity it would havebeen for you! a certain seat. But I care for no boroughs now. My lordwill want you to dine with him to-day; I hope you can come. Perhaps hewill not be able to see you this morning, as his agent will be with himabout these elections. Adieu!"

If Lady Montfort did not like conundrums, she had succeeded, however, in sending one sufficiently perplexing to Endymion. Could it be possiblethat the writer of this letter was the unknown benefactress of thepreceding eve? Lady Montfort was not a mystifier. Her nature wassingularly frank and fearless, and when Endymion told her everythingthat had occurred, and gave her the document which originally he hadmeant to bring with him in order to return it, her amazement and her joywere equal. 

"I wish I had sent it, " said Lady Montfort, "but that was impossible. I do not care who did send it; I have no female curiosity except aboutmatters which, by knowledge, I may influence. This is finished. You arefree. You cannot hesitate as to your course. I never could speak to youagain if you did hesitate. Stop here, and I will go to my lord. Thisis a great day. If we can settle only to-day that you shall be thecandidate for our borough, I really shall not much care for the changeof ministry. "

Lady Montfort was a long time away. Endymion would have liked to havegone forth on his affairs, but she had impressed upon him so earnestlyto wait for her return that he felt he could not retire. The room wasone to which he was not unaccustomed, otherwise, its contents would nothave been uninteresting; her portrait by more than one great master, aminiature of her husband in a Venetian dress upon her writing-table--atable which wonderfully indicated alike the lady of fashion and thelady of business, for there seemed to be no form in which paper could befolded and emblazoned which was there wanting; quires of letterpaper, and note paper, and notelet paper, from despatches of state tobillet-doux, all were ready; great covers with arms and supporters, moremoderate ones with "Berengaria" in letters of glittering fancy, and thedestined shells of diminutive effusions marked only with a goldenbee. There was another table covered with trinkets and precious toys;snuff-boxes and patch-boxes beautifully painted, exquisite miniatures, rare fans, cups of agate, birds glittering with gems almost as radiantas the tropic plumage they imitated, wild animals cut out of ivory, or formed of fantastic pearls--all the spoils of queens and royalmistresses. 

Upon the walls were drawings of her various homes; that of herchildhood, as well as of the hearths she ruled and loved. There werea few portraits on the walls also of those whom she ranked as herparticular friends. Lord Roehampton was one, another was the Count ofFerroll. 

Time went on; on a little table, by the side of evidently her favouritechair, was a book she had been reading. It was a German tale of fame, and Endymion, dropping into her seat, became interested in a volumewhich hitherto he had never seen, but of which he had heard much. 

Perhaps he had been reading for some time; there was a sound, he startedand looked up, and then, springing from his chair, he said, "Somethinghas happened!"

Lady Montfort was quite pale, and the expression of her countenancedistressed, but when he said these words she tried to smile, and said, "No, no, nothing, nothing, --at least nothing to distress you. My lordhopes you will be able to dine with him to-day, and tell him all thenews. " And then she threw herself into a chair and sighed. "I shouldlike to have a good cry, as the servants say--but I never could cry. Iwill tell you all about it in a moment. You were very good not to go. "

It seems that Lady Montfort saw her lord before the agent, who waswaiting, had had his interview, and the opportunity being in everyway favourable, she felt the way about obtaining his cousin's seatfor Endymion. Lord Montfort quite embraced this proposal. It had neveroccurred to him. He had no idea that Ferrars contemplated parliament. It was a capital idea. He could not bear reading the parliament reports, and yet he liked to know a little of what was going on. Now, whenanything happened of interest, he should have it all from thefountain-head. "And you must tell him, Berengaria, " he continued, "thathe can come and dine here whenever he likes, in boots. It is a settledthing that M. P. 's may dine in boots. I think it a most capital plan. Besides, I know it will please you. You will have your own member. "

Then he rang the bell, and begged Lady Montfort to remain and see theagent. Nothing like the present time for business. They would make allthe arrangements at once, and he would ask the agent to dine with themto-day, and so meet Mr. Ferrars. 

So the agent entered, and it was all explained to him, calmly andclearly, briefly by my lord, but with fervent amplification by hischarming wife. The agent several times attempted to make a remark, butfor some time he was unsuccessful; Lady Montfort was so anxious that heshould know all about Mr. Ferrars, the most rising young man of the day, the son of the Right Honourable William Pitt Ferrars, who, had he notdied, would probably have been prime minister, and so on. 

"Mr. Ferrars seems to be everything we could wish, " said the agent, "andas you say, my lady, though he is young, so was Mr. Pitt, and I havelittle doubt, after what you say, my lady, that it is very likely hewill in time become as eminent. But what I came up to town particularlyto impress upon my lord is, that if Mr. Odo will not stand again, we arein a very great difficulty. "

"Difficulty about what?" said Lady Montfort impatiently. 

"Well, my lady, if Mr. Odo stands, there is great respect for him. Theother side would not disturb him. He has been member for some years, and my lord has been very liberal. But the truth is, if Mr. Odo does notstand, we cannot command the seat. "

"Not command the seat! Then our interest must have been terriblyneglected. "

"I hope not, my lady, " said the agent. "The fact is, the property isagainst us. "

"I thought it was all my lord's. "

"No, my lady; the strong interest in the borough is my Lord Beaumaris. It used to be about equal, but all the new buildings are in LordBeaumaris' part of the borough. It would not have signified if thingshad remained as in the old days. The grandfather of the present lord wasa Whig, and always supported the Montforts, but that's all changed. The present earl has gone over to the other side, and, I hear, is verystrong in his views. "

Lady Montfort had to communicate all this to Endymion. "You will meetthe agent at dinner, but he did not give me a ray of hope. Go now;indeed, I have kept you too long. I am so stricken that I can scarcelycommand my senses. Only think of our borough being stolen from us byLord Beaumaris! I have brought you no luck, Endymion; I have done younothing but mischief; I am miserable. If you had attached yourself toLady Beaumaris, you might have been a member of parliament. "

CHAPTER LXIX

In the meantime, the great news being no longer a secret, the utmostexcitement prevailed in the world of politics. The Tories had quite madeup their minds that the ministry would have resigned, and were sanguine, under such circumstances, of the result. The parliament, which theministry was going to dissolve, was one which had been elected bytheir counsel and under their auspices. It was unusual, almostunconstitutional, thus to terminate the body they had created. Nevertheless, the Whigs, never too delicate in such matters, thoughtthey had a chance, and determined not to lose it. One thing theyimmediately succeeded in, and that was, frightening their opponents. A dissolution with the Tories in opposition was not pleasant to thatparty; but a dissolution with a cry of "Cheap bread!" amid a partiallystarving population, was not exactly the conjuncture of providentialcircumstances which had long been watched and wished for, and cherishedand coddled and proclaimed and promised, by the energetic army ofConservative wire-pullers. 

Mr. Tadpole was very restless at the crowded Carlton, speaking toevery one, unhesitatingly answering every question, alike cajoling anddictatorial, and yet, all the time, watching the door of the morningroom with unquiet anxiety. 

"They will never be able to get up the steam, Sir Thomas; the Chartistsare against them. The Chartists will never submit to anything that ischeap. In spite of their wild fancies, they are real John Bulls. Ibeg your pardon, but I see a gentleman I must speak to, " and he rushedtowards the door as Waldershare entered. 

"Well, what is your news?" asked Mr. Tadpole, affecting unconcern. 

"I come here for news, " said Waldershare. "This is my Academus, and you, Tadpole, are my Plato. "

"Well, if you want the words of a wise man, listen to me. If I had agreat friend, which Mr. Waldershare probably has, who wants a greatplace, these are times in which such a man should show his power. "

"I have a great friend whom I wish to have a great place, " saidWaldershare, "and I think he is quite ready to show his power, if heknew exactly how to exercise it. "

"What I am saying to you is not known to a single person in this room, and to only one out of it, but you may depend upon what I say. LordMontfort's cousin retires from Northborough to sit for the county. Theythink they can nominate his successor as a matter of course. A delusion;your friend Lord Beaumaris can command the seat. "

"Well, I think you can depend on Beaumaris, " said Waldershare, muchinterested. 

"I depend upon you, " said Mr. Tadpole, with a glance of affectionatecredulity. "The party already owes you much. This will be a crowningservice. "

"Beaumaris is rather a queer man to deal with, " said Waldershare; "herequires gentle handling. "

"All the world says he consults you on everything. "

"All the world, as usual, is wrong, " said Waldershare. "Lord Beaumarisconsults no one except Lady Beaumaris. "

"Well then we shall do, " rejoined Mr. Tadpole triumphantly. "Our manthat I want him to return is a connection of Lady Beaumaris, a Mr. Rodney, very anxious to get into parliament, and rich. I do not know whohe is exactly, but it is a good name; say a cousin of Lord Rodney untilthe election is over, and then they may settle it as they like. "

"A Mr. Rodney, " said Waldershare musingly; "well, if I hear anything Iwill let you know. I suppose you are in pretty good spirits?"

"I should like a little sunshine. A cold spring, and now a wet summer, and the certainty of a shocking harvest combined with manufacturingdistress spreading daily, is not pleasant, but the English are adiscriminating people. They will hardly persuade them that Sir Roberthas occasioned the bad harvests. "

"The present men are clearly responsible for all that, " saidWaldershare. 

There was a reception at Lady Roehampton's this evening. Very few Toriesattended it, but Lady Beaumaris was there. She never lost an opportunityof showing by her presence how grateful she was to Myra for the kindnesswhich had greeted Imogene when she first entered society. Endymion, as was his custom when the opportunity offered, rather hung aboutLady Beaumaris. She always welcomed him with unaffected cordiality andevident pleasure. He talked to her, and then gave way to others, andthen came and talked to her again, and then he proposed to take her tohave a cup of tea, and she assented to the proposal with a brighteningeye and a bewitching smile. 

"I suppose your friends are very triumphant, Lady Beaumaris?" saidEndymion. 

"Yes; they naturally are very excited. I confess I am not myself. "

"But you ought to be, " said Endymion. "You will have an immenseposition. I should think Lord Beaumaris would have any office he chose, and yours will be the chief house of the party. "

"I do not know that Lord Beaumaris would care to have office, and Ihardly think any office would suit him. As for myself, I am obliged tobe ambitious, but I have no ambition, or rather I would say, I think Iwas happier when we all seemed to be on the same side. "

"Well, those were happy days, " said Endymion, "and these are happy days. And few things make me happier than to see Lady Beaumaris admired andappreciated by every one. "

"I wish you would not call me Lady Beaumaris. That may be, and indeedperhaps is, necessary in society, but when we are alone, I prefer beingcalled by a name which once you always and kindly used. "

"I shall always love the name, " said Endymion, "and, " he added with somehesitation, "shall always love her who bears it. "

She involuntarily pressed his arm, though very slightly; and then inrather a hushed and hurried tone she said, "They were talking about youat dinner to-day. I fear this change of government, if there is to beone, will be injurious to you--losing your private secretaryship to Mr. Wilton, and perhaps other things?"

"Fortune of war, " said Endymion; "we must bear these haps. But the truthis, I think it is not unlikely that there may be a change in my lifewhich may be incompatible with retaining my secretaryship under anycircumstances. "

"You are not going to be married?" she said quickly. 

"Not the slightest idea of such an event. "

"You are too young to marry. "

"Well, I am older than you. "

"Yes; but men and women are different in that matter. Besides, you havetoo many fair friends to marry, at least at present. What would LadyRoehampton say?"

"Well, I have sometimes thought my sister wished me to marry. "

"But then there are others who are not sisters, but who are equallyinterested in your welfare, " said Lady Beaumaris, looking up into hisface with her wondrous eyes; but the lashes were so long, that it wasimpossible to decide whether the glance was an anxious one or one halfof mockery. 

"Well, I do not think I shall ever marry, " said Endymion. "The change inmy life I was alluding to is one by no means of a romantic character. Ihave some thoughts of trying my luck on the hustings, and getting intoparliament. "

"That would be delightful, " said Lady Beaumaris. "Do you know that ithas been one of my dreams that you should be in parliament?"

"Ah! dearest Imogene, for you said I might call you Imogene, you musttake care what you say. Remember we are unhappily in different camps. You must not wish me success in my enterprise; quite the reverse; itis more than probable that you will have to exert all your influenceagainst me; yes, canvass against me, and wear hostile ribbons, and useall your irresistible charms to array electors against me, or to detachthem from my ranks. "

"Even in jest, you ought not to say such things, " said Lady Beaumaris. 

"But I am not in jest, I am in dreadful earnest. Only this morning I wasoffered a seat, which they told me was secure; but when I inquired intoall the circumstances, I found the interest of Lord Beaumaris so great, that it would be folly for me to attempt it. "

"What seat?" inquired Lady Beaumaris in a low voice. 

"Northborough, " said Endymion, "now held by Lord Montfort's cousin, whois to come in for his county. The seat was offered to me, and I was toldI was to be returned without opposition. "

"Lady Montfort offered it to you?" asked Imogene. 

"She interested herself for me, and Lord Montfort approved thesuggestion. It was described to me as a family seat, but when I lookedinto the matter, I found that Lord Beaumaris was more powerful than LordMontfort. "

"I thought that Lady Montfort was irresistible, " said Imogene; "shecarries all before her in society. "

"Society and politics have much to do with each other, but they are notidentical. In the present case, Lady Montfort is powerless. "

"And have you formally abandoned the seat?" inquired Lady Beaumaris. 

"Not formally abandoned it; that was not necessary, but I have dismissedit from my mind, and for some time have been trying to find anotherseat, but hitherto without success. In short, in these days it is nolonger possible to step into parliament as if you were stepping into aclub. "

"If I could do anything, however little?" said Imogene. "Perhaps LadyMontfort would not like me to interfere?"

"Why not?"

"Oh! I do not know, " and then after some hesitation she added, "Is shejealous?"

"Jealous! why should she be jealous?"

"Perhaps she has had no cause. "

"You know Lady Montfort. She is a woman of quick and brilliant feeling, the best of friends and a dauntless foe. Her kindness to me from thefirst moment I made her acquaintance has been inexpressible, and Isincerely believe she is most anxious to serve me. But our party is notvery popular at present; there is no doubt the country is against us. Itis tired of us. I feel myself the general election will be disastrous. Liberal seats are not abundant just now, quite the reverse, and thoughLady Montfort has done more than any one could under the circumstances, I feel persuaded, though you think her irresistible, she will notsucceed. "

"I hardly know her, " said Imogene. "The world considers herirresistible, and I think you do. Nevertheless, I wish she couldhave had her way in this matter, and I think it quite a pity thatNorthborough has turned out not to be a family seat. "

CHAPTER LXX

There was a dinner-party at Mr. Neuchatel's, to which none were askedbut the high government clique. It was the last dinner before thedissolution: "The dinner of consolation, or hope, " said Lord Roehampton. Lady Montfort was to be one of the guests. She was dressed, and hercarriage in the courtyard, and she had just gone in to see her lordbefore she departed. 

Lord Montfort was extremely fond of jewels, and held that you could notsee them to advantage, or fairly judge of their water or colour, excepton a beautiful woman. When his wife was in grand toilette, and he wasunder the same roof, he liked her to call on him in her way to hercarriage, that he might see her flashing rivieres and tiaras, the lustreof her huge pearls, and the splendour of her emeralds and sapphires andrubies. 

"Well, Berengaria, " he said in a playful tone, "you look divine. Neverdine out again in a high dress. It distresses me. Bertolini was the onlyman who ever caught the tournure of your shoulders, and yet I am notaltogether satisfied with his work. So, you are going to dine with thatgood Neuchatel. Remember me kindly to him. There are few men I likebetter. He is so sensible, knows so much, and so much of what is goingon. I should have liked very much to have dined with him, but he isaware of my unfortunate state. Besides, my dear, if I were betterI should not have enough strength for his dinners. They are reallybanquets; I cannot stand those ortolans stuffed with truffles and thosetruffles stuffed with ortolans. Perhaps he will come and dine with ussome day off a joint. "

"The Queen of Mesopotamia will be here next week, Simon, and wemust really give her what you call a joint, and then we can ask theNeuchatels and a few other people. "

"I was in hopes the dissolution would have carried everybody away, " saidLord Montfort rather woefully. "I wish the Queen of Mesopotamia were acandidate for some borough; I think she would rather like it. "

"Well, we could not return her, Simon; do not touch on the subject. Butwhat have you got to amuse to-day?"

"Oh! I shall do very well. I have got the head of the French detectivepolice to dine with me, and another man or two. Besides, I have gothere a most amusing book, 'Topsy Turvy;' it comes out in numbers. I likebooks that come out in numbers, as there is a little suspense, and youcannot deprive yourself of all interest by glancing at the last page ofthe last volume. I think you must read 'Topsy Turvy, ' Berengaria. I ammistaken if you do not hear of it. It is very cynical, which authors, who know a little of the world, are apt to be, and everything isexaggerated, which is another of their faults when they are only atrifle acquainted with manners. A little knowledge of the world is avery dangerous thing, especially in literature. But it is clever, andthe man writes a capital style; and style is everything, especially infiction. "

"And what is the name of the writer, Simon?"

"You never heard of it; I never did; but my secretary, who lives much inBohemia, and is a member of the Cosmopolitan and knows everything, tellsme he has written some things before, but they did not succeed. His nameis St. Barbe. I should like to ask him to dinner if I knew how to get athim. "

"Well, adieu! Simon, " and, with an agitated heart, though apparentcalmness, she touched his forehead with her lips. "I expect anunsatisfactory dinner. "

"Adieu! and if you meet poor Ferrars, which I dare say you will, tellhim to keep up his spirits. The world is a wheel, and it will all comeround right. "

The dinner ought not to have been unsatisfactory, for though there wasno novelty among the guests, they were all clever and distinguishedpersons and united by entire sympathy. Several of the ministers werethere, and the Roehamptons, and Mr. Sidney Wilton, and Endymion wasalso a guest. But the general tone was a little affected and unnatural;forced gaiety, and a levity which displeased Lady Montfort, who fanciedshe was unhappy because the country was going to be ruined, but whosereal cause of dissatisfaction at the bottom of her heart was the affairof "the family seat. " Her hero, Lord Roehampton, particularly did notplease her to-day. She thought him flippant and in bad taste, merelybecause he would not look dismal and talk gloomily. 

"I think we shall do very well, " he said. "What cry can be better thanthat of 'Cheap bread?' It gives one an appetite at once. "

"But the Corn-Law League says your bread will not be cheap, " saidMelchior Neuchatel. 

"I wonder whether the League has really any power in theconstituencies, " said Lord Roehampton. "I doubt it. They may have intime, but then in the interval trade will revive. I have just beenreading Mr. Thornberry's speech. We shall hear more of that man. Youwill not be troubled about any of your seats?" he said, in a lower toneof sympathy, addressing Mrs. Neuchatel, who was his immediate neighbour. 

"Our seats?" said Mrs. Neuchatel, as if waking from a dream. "Oh, I knownothing about them, nor do I understand why there is a dissolution. Itrust that parliament will not be dissolved without voting the money forthe observation of the transit of Venus. "

"I think the Roman Catholic vote will carry us through, " said aminister. 

"Talking of Roman Catholics, " said Mr. Wilton, "is it true thatPenruddock has gone over to Rome?"

"No truth in it, " replied a colleague. "He has gone to Rome--there isno doubt of that, and he has been there some time, but only fordistraction. He had overworked himself. "

"He might have been a Dean if he had been a practical man, " whisperedLady Montfort to Mr. Neuchatel, "and on the high road to a bishopric. "

"That is what we want, Lady Montfort, " said Mr. Neuchatel; "we wanta few practical men. If we had a practical man as Chancellor of theExchequer, we should not be in the scrape in which we now are. "

"It is not likely that Penruddock will leave the Church with a changeof government possibly impending. We could do nothing for him with hisviews, but he will wait for Peel. "

"Oh! Peel will never stand those high-fliers. He put the Church into aLay Commission during his last government. "

"Penruddock will never give up Anglicanism while there is a chance ofbecoming a Laud. When that chance vanishes, trust my word, Penruddockwill make his bow to the Vatican. "

"Well, I must say, " said Lord Roehampton, "if I were a clergyman Ishould be a Roman Catholic. "

"Then you could not marry. What a compliment to Lady Roehampton!"

"Nay; it is because I could not marry that I am not a clergyman. "

Endymion had taken Adriana down to dinner. She looked very well, and wasmore talkative than usual. 

"I fear it will be a very great confusion--this general election, " shesaid. "Papa was telling us that you think of being a candidate. "

"I am a candidate, but without a seat to captivate at present, " saidEndymion; "but I am not without hopes of making some arrangement. "

"Well, you must tell me what your colours are. "

"And will you wear them?"

"Most certainly; and I will work you a banner if you be victorious. "

"I think I must win with such a prospect. "

"I hope you will win in everything. "

When the ladies retired, Berengaria came and sate by the side of LadyRoehampton. 

"What a dreary dinner!" she said. 

"Do you think so?"

"Well, perhaps it was my own fault. Perhaps I am not in good cue, buteverything seems to me to go wrong. "

"Things sometimes do go wrong, but then they get right. "

"Well, I do not think anything will ever get right with me. "

"Dear Lady Montfort, how can you say such things? You who have, and havealways had, the world at your feet--and always will have. "

"I do not know what you mean by having the world at my feet. It seemsto me that I have no power whatever--I can do nothing. I am vexed aboutthis business of your brother. Our people are so stupid. They have noresource. When I go to them and ask for a seat, I expect a seat, as Iwould a shawl at Howell and James' if I asked for one. Instead of thatthey only make difficulties. What our party wants is a Mr. Tadpole; heout-manoeuvres them in every corner. "

"Well, I shall be deeply disappointed--deeply pained, " said LadyRoehampton, "if Endymion is not in this parliament, but if we fail Iwill not utterly despair. I will continue to do what I have done all mylife, exert my utmost will and power to advance him. "

"I thought I had will and power, " said Lady Montfort, "but the conceitis taken out of me. Your brother was to me a source of great interest, from the first moment that I knew him. His future was an object in life, and I thought I could mould it. What a mistake! Instead of making hisfortune I have only dissipated his life. "

"You have been to him the kindest and the most valuable of friends, andhe feels it. "

"It is no use being kind, and I am valuable to no one. I often think ifI disappeared to-morrow no one would miss me. "

"You are in a morbid mood, dear lady. To-morrow perhaps everything willbe right, and then you will feel that you are surrounded by devotedfriends, and by a husband who adores you. "

Lady Montfort gave a scrutinising glance at Lady Roehampton as she saidthis, then shook her head. "Ah! there it is, dear Myra. You judge fromyour own happiness; you do not know Lord Montfort. You know how I lovehim, but I am perfectly convinced he prefers my letters to my society. "

"You see what it is to be a Madame de Sevigne, " said Lady Roehampton, trying to give a playful tone to the conversation. 

"You jest, " said Lady Montfort; "I am quite serious. No one can deceiveme; would that they could! I have the fatal gift of reading persons, andpenetrating motives, however deep or complicated their character, andwhat I tell you about Lord Montfort is unhappily too true. "

In the meantime, while this interesting conversation was taking place, the gentleman who had been the object of Lady Montfort's eulogium, thegentleman who always out-manoeuvred her friends at every corner, was, though it was approaching midnight, walking up and down Carlton Terracewith an agitated and indignant countenance, and not alone. 

"I tell you, Mr. Waldershare, I know it; I have it almost from LordBeaumaris himself; he has declined to support our man, and no doubt willgive his influence to the enemy. "

"I do not believe that Lord Beaumaris has made any engagement whatever. "

"A pretty state of affairs!" exclaimed Mr. Tadpole. "I do not know whatthe world has come to. Here are gentlemen expecting high places in theHousehold, and under-secretaryships of state, and actually giving awayour seats to our opponents. "

"There is some family engagement about this seat between the Houses ofBeaumaris and Montfort, and Lord Beaumaris, who is a young man, andwho does not know as much about these things as you and I do, naturallywants not to make a mistake. But he has promised nothing and nobody. I know, I might almost say I saw the letter, that he wrote to LordMontfort this day, asking for an interview to-morrow morning on thematter, and Lord Montfort has given him an appointment for to-morrow. This I know. "

"Well, I must leave it to you, " said Mr. Tadpole. "You must rememberwhat we are fighting for. The constitution is at stake. "

"And the Church, " said Waldershare. 

"And the landed interest, you may rely upon it, " said Mr. Tadpole. 

"And your Lordship of the Treasury _in posse_, Tadpole. Truly it is agreat stake. "

CHAPTER LXXI

The interview between the heads of the two great houses of Montfort andBeaumaris, on which the fate of a ministry might depend, for it shouldalways be recollected that it was only by a majority of one that SirRobert Peel had necessitated the dissolution of parliament, was notcarried on exactly in the spirit and with the means which would haveoccurred to and been practised by the race of Tadpoles and Tapers. 

Lord Beaumaris was a very young man, handsome, extremely shy, and onewho had only very recently mixed with the circle in which he was born. It was under the influence of Imogene that, in soliciting an interviewwith Lord Montfort, he had taken for him an unusual, not to sayunprecedented step. He had conjured up to himself in Lord Montfort theapparition of a haughty Whig peer, proud of his order, prouder of hisparty, and not over-prejudiced in favour of one who had quittedthose sacred ranks, freezing with arrogant reserve and condescendingpoliteness. In short, Lord Beaumaris was extremely nervous when, usheredby many servants through many chambers, there came forward to receivehim the most sweetly mannered gentleman alive, who not only gave himhis hand, but retained his guest's, saying, "We are a sort of cousins, Ibelieve, and ought to have been acquainted before, but you know perhapsmy wretched state, " though what that was nobody exactly did know, particularly as Lord Montfort was sometimes seen wading in streamsbreast-high while throwing his skilful line over the rushing waters. "Iremember your grandfather, " he said, "and with good cause. He pouched meat Harrow, and it was the largest pouch I ever had. One does not forgetthe first time one had a five-pound note. "

And then when Lord Beaumaris, blushing and with much hesitation, hadstated the occasion of his asking for the interview that they mightsettle together about the representation of Northborough in harmony withthe old understanding between the families which he trusted would alwaysbe maintained, Lord Montfort assured him that he was personally obligedto him by his always supporting Odo, regretted that Odo would retire, and then said if Lord Beaumaris had any brother, cousin, or friend tobring forward, he need hardly say Lord Beaumaris might count upon him. "I am a Whig, " he continued, "and so was your father, but I am notparticularly pleased with the sayings and doings of my people. Betweenourselves, I think they have been in a little too long, and if they doanything very strong, if, for instance, they give office to O'Connell, I should not be at all surprised if I were myself to sit on the crossbenches. "

It seems there was no member of the Beaumaris family who wished atthis juncture to come forward, and being assured of this, Lord Montfortremarked there was a young man of promise who much wished to enter theHouse of Commons, not unknown, he believed, to Lord Beaumaris, and thatwas Mr. Ferrars. He was the son of a distinguished man, now departed, who in his day had been a minister of state. Lord Montfort was quiteready to support Mr. Ferrars, if Lord Beaumaris approved of theselection, but he placed himself entirely in his hands. 

Lord Beaumaris, blushing, said he quite approved of the selection; knewMr. Ferrars very well, and liked him very much; and if Lord Montfortsanctioned it, would speak to Mr. Ferrars himself. He believed Mr. Ferrars was a Liberal, but he agreed with Lord Montfort, that in thesedays gentlemen must be all of the same opinion if not on the same side, and so on. And then they talked of fishing appropriately to a book ofvery curious flies that was on the table, and they agreed if possibleto fish together in some famous waters that Lord Beaumaris had inHampshire, and then, as he was saying farewell, Lord Montfort added, "Although I never pay visits, because really in my wretched state Icannot, there is no reason why our wives should not know each other. Will you permit Lady Montfort to have the honour of paying her respectsto Lady Beaumaris?"

Talleyrand or Metternich could not have conducted an interview moreskilfully. But these were just the things that Lord Montfort did notdislike doing. His great good nature was not disturbed by a singleinconvenient circumstance, and he enjoyed the sense of his adroitness. 

The same day the cards of Lord and Lady Montfort were sent to PiccadillyTerrace, and on the next day the cards of Lord and Lady Beaumaris werereturned to Montfort House. And on the following day, Lady Montfort, accompanied by Lady Roehampton, would find Lady Beaumaris at home, andafter a charming visit, in which Lady Montfort, though natural to thelast degree, displayed every quality which could fascinate even a woman, when she put her hand in that of Imogene to say farewell, added, "I amdelighted to find that we are cousins. "

A few days after this interview, parliament was dissolved. It was themiddle of a wet June, and the season received its _coup de grace_. Although Endymion had no rival, and apparently no prospect of a contest, his labours as a candidate were not slight. The constituency wasnumerous, and every member of it expected to be called upon. To each Mr. Ferrars had to expound his political views, and to receive from each acordial assurance of a churlish criticism. All this he did and endured, accompanied by about fifty of the principal inhabitants, members of hiscommittee, who insisted on never leaving his side, and prompting himat every new door which he entered with contradictory reports of thepolitical opinions of the indweller, or confidential informations howthey were to be managed and addressed. 

The principal and most laborious incidents of the day were festivalswhich they styled luncheons, when the candidate and the ambulatorycommittee were quartered on some principal citizen with an elaboratebanquet of several courses, and in which Mr. Ferrars' health was alwayspledged in sparkling bumpers. After the luncheon came two or threemore hours of what was called canvassing; then, in a state of horriblerepletion, the fortunate candidate, who had no contest, had to dine withanother principal citizen, with real turtle soup, and gigantic turbots, _entrees_ in the shape of volcanic curries, and rigid venison, sent asa compliment by a neighbouring peer. This last ceremony was necessarilyhurried, as Endymion had every night to address in some ward a body ofthe electors. 

When this had been going on for a few days, the borough was suddenlyplacarded with posting bills in colossal characters of true blue, warning the Conservative electors not to promise their votes, as adistinguished candidate of the right sort would certainly come forward. At the same time there was a paragraph in a local journal that a memberof a noble family, illustrious in the naval annals of the country, would, if sufficiently supported, solicit the suffrages of theindependent electors. 

"We think, by the allusion to the navy, that it must be Mr. Hood ofAcreley, " said Lord Beaumaris' agent to Mr. Ferrars, "but he has notthe ghost of a chance. I will ride over and see him in the course of theday. "

This placard was of course Mr. Tadpole's last effort, but that worthygentleman soon forgot his mortification about Northborough in thegeneral triumph of his party. The Whigs were nowhere, though Mr. Ferrarswas returned without opposition, and in the month of August, stillwondering at the rapid, strange, and even mysterious incidents, that hadso suddenly and so swiftly changed his position and prospects in life, took his seat in that House in whose galleries he had so long humblyattended as the private secretary of a cabinet minister. 

His friends were still in office, though the country had sent up amajority of ninety against them, and Endymion took his seat behind theTreasury bench, and exactly behind Lord Roehampton. The debate on theaddress was protracted for three nights, and then they divided at threeo'clock in the morning, and then all was over. Lord Roehampton, who hadvindicated the ministry with admirable vigour and felicity, turned roundto Endymion, and smiling said in the sweetest tone, "I did not enlargeon our greatest feat, namely, that we had governed the country for twoyears without a majority. Peel would never have had the pluck to dothat. "

Notwithstanding the backsliding of Lord Beaumaris and the unprincipledconduct of Mr. Waldershare, they were both rewarded as the lattergentleman projected--Lord Beaumaris accepted a high post in theHousehold, and Mr. Waldershare was appointed Under-Secretary of Statefor Foreign Affairs. Tadpole was a little glum about it, but it wasinevitable. "The fact is, " as the world agreed, "Lady Beaumaris is theonly Tory woman. They have nobody who can receive except her. "

The changes in the House of Commons were still greater than those inthe administration. Never were so many new members, and Endymion watchedthem, during the first days, and before the debate on the address, taking the oaths at the table in batches with much interest. Mr. Bertie Tremaine was returned, and his brother, Mr. Tremaine Bertie. JobThornberry was member for a manufacturing town, with which he was nototherwise connected. Hortensius was successful, and Mr. Vigo for ametropolitan borough, but what pleased Endymion more than anything wasthe return of his valued friend Trenchard, who a short time before hadacceded to the paternal estate; all these gentlemen were Liberals, andwere destined to sit on the same side of the House as Endymion. 

After the fatal vote, the Whigs all left town. Society in general hadbeen greatly dispersed, but parliament had to remain sitting untilOctober. 

"We are going to Princedown, " Lady Montfort said one day to Endymion, "and we had counted on seeing you there, but I have been thinking muchof your position since, and I am persuaded, that we must sacrificepleasure to higher objects. This is really a crisis in your life, andmuch, perhaps everything, depends on your not making a mistake now. What I want to see you is a great statesman. This is a political economyparliament, both sides alike thinking of the price of corn and all that. Finance and commerce are everybody's subjects, and are most convenientto make speeches about for men who cannot speak French and who havehad no education. Real politics are the possession and distribution ofpower. I want to see you give your mind to foreign affairs. Thereyou will have no rivals. There are a great many subjects which LordRoehampton cannot take up, but which you could very properly, and youwill have always the benefit of his counsel, and, when necessary, hisparliamentary assistance; but foreign affairs are not to be masteredby mere reading. Bookworms do not make chancellors of state. You mustbecome acquainted with the great actors in the great scene. There isnothing like personal knowledge of the individuals who control the highaffairs. That has made the fortune of Lord Roehampton. What I think youought to do, without doubt ought to do, is to take advantage of thislong interval before the meeting of parliament, and go to Paris. Parisis now the Capital of Diplomacy. It is not the best time of the year togo there, but you will meet a great many people of the diplomatic world, and if the opportunity offers, you can vary the scene, and go to somebaths which princes and ministers frequent. The Count of Ferroll is nowat Paris, and minister for his court. You know him; that is well. Buthe is my greatest friend, and, as you know, we habitually correspond. Hewill do everything for you, I am sure, for my sake. It is not pleasantto be separated; I do not wish to conceal that; I should have enjoyedyour society at Princedown, but I am doing right, and you will some daythank me for it. We must soften the pang of separation by writing toeach other every day, so when we meet again it will only be as if we hadparted yesterday. Besides--who knows?--I may run over myself to Paris inthe winter. My lord always liked Paris; the only place he ever did, butI am not very sanguine he will go; he is so afraid of being asked todinner by our ambassador. "

CHAPTER LXXII

In all lives, the highest and the humblest, there is a crisis in theformation of character, and in the bent of the disposition. It comesfrom many causes, and from some which on the surface are apparently eventrivial. It may be a book, a speech, a sermon; a man or a woman; agreat misfortune or a burst of prosperity. But the result is the same; asudden revelation to ourselves of our secret purpose, and a recognitionof our perhaps long shadowed, but now masterful convictions. 

A crisis of this kind occurred to Endymion the day when he returned tohis chambers, after having taken the oaths and his seat in the House ofCommons. He felt the necessity of being alone. For nearly the last threemonths he had been the excited actor in a strange and even mysteriousdrama. There had been for him no time to reflect; all he could aimat was to comprehend, and if possible control, the present and urgentcontingency; he had been called upon, almost unceasingly, to do or tosay something sudden and unexpected; and it was only now, when thecrest of the ascent had been reached, that he could look around him andconsider the new world opening to his gaze. 

The greatest opportunity that can be offered to an Englishman was nowhis--a seat in the House of Commons. It was his almost in the firstbloom of youth, and yet after advantageous years of labour and politicaltraining, and it was combined with a material independence on which henever could have counted. A love of power, a passion for distinction, anoble pride, which had been native to his early disposition, but whichhad apparently been crushed by the enormous sorrows and misfortunes ofhis childhood, and which had vanished, as it were, before the sweetnessof that domestic love which had been the solace of his adversity, nowagain stirred their dim and mighty forms in his renovated, and, as itwere, inspired consciousness. "If this has happened at twenty-two, "thought Endymion, "what may not occur if the average life of man beallotted to me? At any rate, I will never think of anything else. Ihave a purpose in life, and I will fulfil it. It is a charm that itsaccomplishment would be the most grateful result to the two beings Imost love in the world. "

So when Lady Montfort shortly after opened her views to Endymion as tohis visiting Paris, and his purpose in so doing, the seeds were thrownon a willing soil, and he embraced her counsels with the deepestinterest. His intimacy with the Count of Ferroll was the completingevent of this epoch of his life. 

Their acquaintance had been slight in England, for after the MontfortTournament the Count had been appointed to Paris, where he was required;but he received Endymion with a cordiality which contrasted with hisusual demeanour, which, though frank, was somewhat cynical. 

"This is not a favourable time to visit Paris, " he said, "so far associety is concerned. There is some business stirring in the diplomaticworld, which has re-assembled the fraternity for the moment, and theKing is at St. Cloud, but you may make some acquaintances which may bedesirable, and at any rate look about you and clear the ground for thecoming season. I do not despair of our dear friend coming over in thewinter. It is one of the hopes that keep me alive. What a woman! Youmay count yourself fortunate in having such a friend. I do. I am notparticularly fond of female society. Women chatter too much. But Iprefer the society of a first-rate woman to that of any man; and LadyMontfort is a first-rate woman--I think the greatest since Louise ofSavoy; infinitely beyond the Princess d'Ursins. "

The "business that was then stirring in the diplomatic world, " at aseason when the pleasures of Parisian society could not distract him, gave Endymion a rare opportunity of studying that singular class ofhuman beings which is accustomed to consider states and nations asindividuals, and speculate on their quarrels and misunderstandings, andthe remedies which they require, in a tongue peculiar to themselves, andin language which often conveys a meaning exactly opposite to that whichit seems to express. Diplomacy is hospitable, and a young Englishmanof graceful mien, well introduced, and a member of the House ofCommons--that awful assembly which produces those dreaded blue bookswhich strike terror in the boldest of foreign statesmen--was not onlyreceived, but courted, in the interesting circle in which Endymion foundhimself. 

There he encountered men grey with the fame and wisdom of half a centuryof deep and lofty action, men who had struggled with the first Napoleon, and had sat in the Congress of Vienna; others, hardly less celebrated, who had been suddenly borne to high places by the revolutionary waveof 1830, and who had justly retained their exalted posts when so manycompetitors with an equal chance had long ago, with equal justice, subsided into the obscurity from which they ought never to have emerged. Around these chief personages were others not less distinguished bytheir abilities, but a more youthful generation, who knew how to wait, and were always prepared or preparing for the inevitable occasion whenit arrived--fine and trained writers, who could interpret in sentencesof graceful adroitness the views of their chiefs; or sages inprecedents, walking dictionaries of diplomacy, and masters of everytreaty; and private secretaries reading human nature at a glance, andcollecting every shade of opinion for the use and guidance of theirprincipals. 

Whatever their controversies in the morning, their critical interviewsand their secret alliances, all were smiles and graceful badinage atthe banquet and the reception; as if they had only come to Paris to showtheir brilliant uniforms, their golden fleeces, and their grand crosses, and their broad ribbons with more tints than the iris. 

"I will not give them ten years, " said the Count of Ferroll, lightinghis cigarette, and addressing Endymion on their return from one of theseassemblies; "I sometimes think hardly five. "

"But where will the blow come from?"

"Here; there is no movement in Europe except in France, and here it willalways be a movement of subversion. "

"A pretty prospect!"

"The sooner you realise it the better. The system here is supported byjournalists and bankers; two influential classes, but the millions carefor neither; rather, I should say, dislike both. "

"Will the change affect Europe?"

"Inevitably. You rightly say Europe, for that is a geographicalexpression. There is no State in Europe; I exclude your own country, which belongs to every division of the globe, and is fast becoming morecommercial than political, and I exclude Russia, for she is essentiallyoriental, and her future will be entirely the East. "

"But there is Germany!"

"Where? I cannot find it on the maps. Germany is divided into variousdistricts, and when there is a war, they are ranged on differentsides. Notwithstanding our reviews and annual encampments, Germany ispractically as weak as Italy. We have some kingdoms who are allowedto play at being first-rate powers; but it is mere play. They no morecommand events than the King of Naples or the Duke of Modena. "

"Then is France periodically to overrun Europe?"

"So long as it continues to be merely Europe. "

A close intimacy occurred between Endymion and the Count of Ferroll. Henot only became a permanent guest at the official residence, but whenthe Conference broke up, the Count invited Endymion to be his companionto some celebrated baths, where they would meet not only many of hislate distinguished colleagues, but their imperial and royal masters, seeking alike health and relaxation at this famous rendezvous. 

"You will find it of the first importance in public life, " said theCount of Ferroll, "to know personally those who are carrying onthe business of the world; so much depends on the character of anindividual, his habits of thought, his prejudices, his superstitions, his social weaknesses, his health. Conducting affairs without thisadvantage is, in effect, an affair of stationery; it is pens and paperwho are in communication, not human beings. "

The brother-in-law of Lord Roehampton was a sort of personage. It wasvery true that distinguished man was no longer minister, but he had beenminister for a long time, and had left a great name. Foreigners rarelyknow more than one English minister at a time, but they compensated fortheir ignorance of the aggregate body by even exaggerating the qualitiesof the individual with whom they are acquainted. Lord Roehampton hadconducted the affairs of his country always in a courteous, but still ina somewhat haughty spirit. He was easy and obliging, and conciliatory inlittle matters, but where the credit, or honour, or large interestsof England were concerned, he acted with conscious authority. On thecontinent of Europe, though he sometimes incurred the depreciation ofthe smaller minds, whose self-love he may not have sufficiently spared, by the higher spirits he was feared and admired, and they knew, when hegave his whole soul to an affair, that they were dealing with a master. 

Endymion was presented to emperors and kings, and he made his way withthese exalted personages. He found them different from what he hadexpected. He was struck by their intimate acquaintance with affairs, andby the serenity of their judgment. The life was a pleasant as well asan interesting one. Where there are crowned heads, there are always somecharming women. Endymion found himself in a delightful circle. Long daysand early hours, and a beautiful country, renovate the spirit as wellas the physical frame. Excursions to romantic forests, and visits topicturesque ruins, in the noon of summer, are enchanting, especiallywith princesses for your companions, bright and accomplished. Yet, notwithstanding some distractions, Endymion never omitted writing toLady Montfort every day. 

CHAPTER LXXIII

The season at Paris, which commenced towards the end of the year, wasa lively one, and especially interesting to Endymion, who met there agreat many of his friends. After his visit to the baths he had travelledalone for a few weeks, and saw some famous places of which he hadlong heard. A poet was then sitting on the throne of Bavaria, and wasrealising his dreams in the creation of an ideal capital. The BlackForest is a land of romance. He saw Walhalla, too, crowning the Danubewith the genius of Germany, as mighty as the stream itself. Pleasant itis to wander among the quaint cities here clustering together: Nurembergwith all its ancient art, imperial Augsburg, and Wurzburg with itspriestly palace, beyond the splendour of many kings. A summer in Suabiais a great joy. 

But what a contrast to the Rue de la Paix, bright and vivacious, inwhich he now finds himself, and the companion of the Neuchatel family!Endymion had only returned to Paris the previous evening, and theNeuchatels had preceded him by a week; so they had seen everybody andcould tell him everything. Lord and Lady Beaumaris were there, andMrs. Rodney their companion, her husband detained in London by somemysterious business; it was thought a seat in parliament, which Mr. Tadpole had persuaded him might be secured on a vacancy occasioned by asuccessful petition. They had seen the Count of Ferroll, who was goingto dine with them that day, and Endymion was invited to meet him. It wasAdriana's first visit to Paris, and she seemed delighted with it; butMrs. Neuchatel preferred the gay capital when it was out of season. Mr. Neuchatel himself was always in high spirits, --sanguine andself-satisfied. He was an Orleanist, had always been so, and sympathisedwith the apparently complete triumph of his principles--"real liberalprinciples, no nonsense; there was more gold in the Bank of France thanin any similar establishment in Europe. After all, wealth is the testof the welfare of a people, and the test of wealth is the command ofthe precious metals. Eh! Mr. Member of Parliament?" And his eye flashedfire, and he seemed to smack his lips at the very thought and mention ofthese delicious circumstances. 

They were in a jeweller's shop, and Mrs. Neuchatel was choosing atrinket for a wedding present. She seemed infinitely distressed. "Whatdo you think of this, Adriana? It is simple and in good taste. I shouldlike it for myself, and yet I fear it might not be thought fine enough. "

"This is pretty, mamma, and new, " and she held before her mother abracelet of much splendour. 

"Oh, no! that will never do, dear Adriana; they will say we arepurse-proud. "

"I am afraid they will always say that, mamma, " and she sighed. 

"It is a long time since we all separated, " said Endymion to Adriana. 

"Months! Mr. Sidney Wilton said you were the first runaway. I think youwere quite right. Your new life now will be fresh to you. If youhad remained, it would only have been associated with defeat anddiscomfiture. "

"I am so happy to be in parliament, that I do not think I could everassociate such a life with discomfiture. "

"Does it make you very happy?" said Adriana, looking at him ratherearnestly. 

"Very happy. "

"I am glad of that. "

The Neuchatels had a house at Paris--one of the fine hotels of the FirstEmpire. It was inhabited generally by one of the nephews, but it wasalways ready to receive them with every luxury and every comfort. ButMrs. Neuchatel herself particularly disliked Paris, and she rarelyaccompanied her husband in his frequent but brief visits to the gaycity. She had yielded on this occasion to the wish of Adriana, whomshe had endeavoured to bring up in a wholesome prejudice against Frenchtaste and fashions. 

The dinner to-day was exquisite, in a chamber of many-coloured marbles, and where there was no marble there was gold, and when the banquet wasover, they repaired to saloons hung with satin of a delicate tint whichexhibited to perfection a choice collection of Greuse and Vanloo. Mr. Sidney Wilton dined there as well as the Count of Ferroll, some of theFrench ministers, and two or three illustrious Orleanist celebrities ofliterature, who acknowledged and emulated the matchless conversationalpowers of Mrs. Neuchatel. Lord and Lady Beaumaris and Mrs. Rodneycompleted the party. 

Sylvia was really peerless. She was by birth half a Frenchwoman, andshe compensated for her deficiency in the other moiety, by a series ofexquisite costumes, in which she mingled with the spell-born fashion ofFrance her own singular genius in dress. She spoke not much, but lookedprettier than ever; a little haughty, and now and then faintly smiling. What was most remarkable about her was her convenient and completewant of memory. Sylvia had no past. She could not have found her way toWarwick Street to save her life. She conversed with Endymion with easeand not without gratification, but from all she said, you might havesupposed that they had been born in the same sphere, and always livedin the same sphere, that sphere being one peopled by duchesses andcountesses and gentlemen of fashion and ministers of state. 

Lady Beaumaris was different from her sister almost in all respects, except in beauty, though her beauty even was of a higher style than thatof Mrs. Rodney. Imogene was quite natural, though refined. She had afine disposition. All her impulses were good and naturally noble. She had a greater intellectual range than Sylvia, and was much morecultivated. This she owed to her friendship with Mr. Waldershare, whowas entirely devoted to her, and whose main object in life was to makeeverything contribute to her greatness. "I hope he will come here nextweek, " she said to Endymion. "I heard from him to-day. He is at Venice. And he gives me such lovely descriptions of that city, that I shallnever rest till I have seen it and glided in a gondola. "

"Well, that you can easily do. "

"Not so easily. It will never do to interfere with my lord'shunting--and when hunting is over there is always somethingelse--Newmarket, or the House of Lords, or rook-shooting. "

"I must say there is something delightful about Paris, which you meetnowhere else, " said Mr. Sidney Wilton to Endymion. "For my part, it hasthe same effect on me as a bottle of champagne. When I think of what wewere doing at this time last year--those dreadful November cabinets--Ishudder! By the by, the Count of Ferroll says there is a chance of LadyMontfort coming here; have you heard anything?"

Endymion knew all about it, but he was too discreet even to pretend toexclusive information on that head. He thought it might be true, butsupposed it depended on my lord. 

"Oh! Montfort will never come. He will bolt at the last moment when thehall is full of packages. Their very sight will frighten him, and hewill steal down to Princedown and read 'Don Quixote. '"

Sidney Wilton was quite right. Lady Montfort arrived without her lord. "He threw me over almost as we were getting into the carriage, and Ihad quite given it up when dear Lady Roehampton came to my rescue. Shewanted to see her brother, and--here we are. "

The arrival of these two great ladies gave a stimulant to gaieties whichwere already excessive. The court and the ministers rivalled the ballsand the banquets which were profusely offered by the ambassadors andbankers. Even the great faubourg relaxed, and its halls of high ceremonyand mysterious splendour were opened to those who in London had extendedto many of their order a graceful and abounding hospitality. It was withdifficulty, however, that they persuaded Lady Montfort to honour withher presence the embassy of her own court. 

"I dined with those people once, " she said to Endymion, "but I confesswhen I thought of those dear Granvilles, their _entrees_ stuck in mythroat. "

There was, however, no lack of diplomatic banquets for the successorof Louise of Savoy. The splendid hotel of the Count of Ferroll was thescene of festivals not to be exceeded in Paris, and all in honour ofthis wondrous dame. Sometimes they were feasts, sometimes they wereballs, sometimes they were little dinners, consummate and select, sometimes large receptions, multifarious and amusing. Her pleasure wasasked every morn, and whenever she was disengaged, she issued orders tohis devoted household. His boxes at opera or play were at her constantdisposal; his carriages were at her command, and she rode, in hissociety, the most beautiful horses in Paris. 

The Count of Ferroll had wished that both ladies should have taken uptheir residence at his mansion. 

"But I think we had better not, " said Lady Montfort to Myra. "After all, there is nothing like 'my crust of bread and liberty, ' and so I think wehad better stay at the Bristol. "

CHAPTER LXXIV

"Go and talk to Adriana, " said Lady Roehampton to her brother. "It seemsto me you never speak to her. "

Endymion looked a little confused. 

"Lady Montfort has plenty of friends here, " his sister continued. "Youare not wanted, and you should always remember those who have been ourearliest and kindest friends. "

There was something in Lady Roehampton's words and look which ratherjarred upon him. Anything like reproach or dissatisfaction from thoselips and from that countenance, sometimes a little anxious but alwaysaffectionate, not to say adoring, confused and even agitated him. He wastempted to reply, but, exercising successfully the self-control whichwas the result rather of his life than of his nature, he said nothing, and, in obedience to the intimation, immediately approached MissNeuchatel. 

About this time Waldershare arrived at Paris, full of magnificent dreamswhich he called plans. He was delighted with his office; it was much themost important in the government, and more important because it was notin the cabinet. Well managed, it was power without responsibility. Heexplained to Lady Beaumaris that an Under-Secretary of State for ForeignAffairs, with his chief in the House of Lords, was "master of thesituation. " What the situation was, and what the under-secretary wasto master, he did not yet deign to inform Imogene; but her trust inWaldershare was implicit, and she repeated to Lord Beaumaris, andto Mrs. Rodney, with an air of mysterious self-complacency, that Mr. Waldershare was "master of the situation. " Mrs. Rodney fancied that thiswas the correct and fashionable title of an under-secretary ofstate. Mr. Waldershare was going to make a collection of portraits ofUnder-Secretaries for Foreign Affairs whose chiefs had been in the Houseof Lords. It would be a collection of the most eminent statesmen thatEngland had ever produced. For the rest, during his Italian tour, Waldershare seemed to have conducted himself with distinguisheddiscretion, and had been careful not to solicit an audience of the Dukeof Modena in order to renew his oath of allegiance. 

When Lady Montfort successfully tempted Lady Roehampton to be hertravelling companion to Paris, the contemplated visit was to have beena short one--"a week, perhaps ten days at the outside. " The outside hadbeen not inconsiderably passed, and yet the beautiful Berengaria showedno disposition of returning to England. Myra was uneasy at her ownprotracted absence from her lord, and having made a last, but fruitlesseffort to induce Lady Montfort to accompany her, she said one day toEndymion, "I think I must ask you to take me back. And indeed you oughtto be with my lord some little time before the meeting of Parliament. "

Endymion was really of the same opinion, though he was conscious of thesocial difficulty which he should have to encounter in order to effecthis purpose. Occasionally a statesman in opposition is assisted by thesame private secretary who was his confidant when in office; but thisis not always the case--perhaps not even generally. In the presentinstance, the principal of Lord Roehampton's several secretaries hadbeen selected from the permanent clerks in the Foreign Office itself, and therefore when his chief retired from his official duties, theprivate secretary resumed his previous post, an act which necessarilyterminated all relations between himself and the late minister, savethose of private, though often still intimate, acquaintance. 

Now one of the great objects of Lady Roehampton for a long time hadbeen, that her brother should occupy a confidential position near herhusband. The desire had originally been shared, and even warmly, byLady Montfort; but the unexpected entrance of Endymion into the House ofCommons had raised a technical difficulty in this respect which seemedto terminate the cherished prospect. Myra, however, was resolved not toregard these technical difficulties, and was determined to establishat once the intimate relations she desired between her husband and herbrother. This purpose had been one of the principal causes which inducedher to accompany Lady Montfort to Paris. She wanted to see Endymion, to see what he was about, and to prepare him for the future which shecontemplated. 

The view which Lady Montfort took of these matters was very differentfrom that of Lady Roehampton. Lady Montfort was in her riding habit, leaning back in an easy chair, with her whip in one hand and the"Charivari" in the other, and she said, "Are you not going to rideto-day, Endymion?"

"I think not. I wanted to talk to you a little about my plans, LadyMontfort. "

"Your plans? Why should you have any plans?"

"Well, Lady Roehampton is about to return to England, and she proposes Ishould go with her. "

"Why?"

And then Endymion entered into the whole case, the desirablenessof being with Lord Roehampton before the meeting of parliament, ofassisting him, working with him, acting for him, and all the otherexpedient circumstances of the situation. 

Lady Montfort said nothing. Being of an eager nature, it was rather herhabit to interrupt those who addressed her, especially on matters shedeemed disagreeable. Her husband used to say, "Berengaria is a charmingcompanion, but if she would only listen a little more, she would have somuch more to tell me. " On the present occasion, Endymion had no reasonto complain that he had not a fair opportunity of stating his viewsand wishes. She was quite silent, changed colour occasionally, bit herbeautiful lip, and gently but constantly lashed her beautiful ridinghabit. When he paused, she inquired if he had done, and he assenting, she said, "I think the whole thing preposterous. What can LordRoehampton have to do before the meeting of parliament? He has not gotto write the Queen's speech. The only use of being in opposition is thatwe may enjoy ourselves. The best thing that Lord Roehampton and all hisfriends can do is travel for a couple of years. Ask the Count of Ferrollwhat he thinks of the situation. He will tell you that he never knew onemore hopeless. Taxes and tariffs--that's the future of England, and, so far as I can see, it may go on for ever. The government here desiresnothing better than what they call Peace. What they mean by peace isagiotage, shares at a premium, and bubble companies. The whole thing iscorrupt, as it ever must be when government is in the hands of a meremiddle class, and that, too, a limited one; but it may last hopelesslylong, and in the meantime, 'Vive la bagatelle!'"

"These are very different views from those which, I had understood, wereto guide us in opposition, " said Endymion, amazed. 

"There is no opposition, " rejoined Lady Montfort, somewhat tartly. "Fora real opposition there must be a great policy. If your friend, LordRoehampton, when he was settling the Levant, had only seized upon Egypt, we should have been somewhere. Now, we are the party who wanted to give, not even cheap bread to the people, but only cheaper bread. Faugh!"

"Well, I do not think the occupation of Egypt in the present state ofour finances"----

"Do not talk to me about 'the present state of our finances. ' You areworse than Mr. Sidney Wilton. The Count of Ferroll says that a ministrywhich is upset by its finances must be essentially imbecile. And that, too, in England--the richest country in the world!"

"Well, I think the state of the finances had something to do with theFrench Revolution, " observed Endymion quietly. 

"The French Revolution! You might as well talk of the fall of the RomanEmpire. The French Revolution was founded on nonsense--on the rights ofman; when all sensible people in every country are now agreed, that manhas no rights whatever. "

"But, dearest Lady Montfort, " said Endymion, in a somewhat deprecatingtone, "about my returning; for that is the real subject on which Iwished to trouble you. "

"You have made up your mind to return, " she replied. "What is the useof consulting me with a foregone conclusion? I suppose you think it acompliment. "

"I should be very sorry to do anything without consulting you, " saidEndymion. 

"The worst person in the world to consult, " said Lady Montfortimpatiently. "If you want advice, you had better go to your sister. Menwho are guided by their sisters seldom make very great mistakes. Theyare generally so prudent; and, I must say, I think a prudent man quitedetestable. "

Endymion turned pale, his lips quivered. What might have been the wingedwords they sent forth it is now impossible to record, for at that momentthe door opened, and the servant announced that her ladyship's horsewas at the door. Lady Montfort jumped up quickly, and saying, "Well, Isuppose I shall see you before you go, " disappeared. 

CHAPTER LXXV

In the meantime, Lady Roehampton was paying her farewell visit to herformer pupil. They were alone, and Adriana was hanging on her neck andweeping. 

"We were so happy, " she murmured. 

"And are so happy, and will be, " said Myra. 

"I feel I shall never be happy again, " sighed Adriana. 

"You deserve to be the happiest of human beings, and you will be. "

"Never, never!"

Lady Roehampton could say no more; she pressed her friend to her heart, and left the room in silence. 

When she arrived at her hotel, her brother was leaving the house. Hiscountenance was disquieted; he did not greet her with that mantlingsunniness of aspect which was natural to him when they met. 

"I have made all my farewells, " she said; "and how have you been gettingon?" And she invited him to re-enter the hotel. 

"I am ready to depart at this moment, " he said somewhat fiercely, "andwas only thinking how I could extricate myself from that horrible dinnerto-day at the Count of Ferroll's. "

"Well, that is not difficult, " said Myra; "you can write a note here ifyou like, at once. I think you must have seen quite enough of the Countof Ferroll and his friends. "

Endymion sat down at the table, and announced his intendednon-appearance at the Count's dinner, for it could not be called anexcuse. When he had finished, his sister said--

"Do you know, we were nearly having a travelling companion to-morrow?"

He looked up with a blush, for he fancied she was alluding to someprevious scheme of Lady Montfort. "Indeed!" he said, "and who?"

"Adriana. "

"Adriana!" he repeated, somewhat relieved; "would she leave her family?"

"She had a fancy, and I am sure I do not know any companion I couldprefer to her. She is the only person of whom I could truly say, thatevery time I see her, I love her more. "

"She seemed to like Paris very much, " said Endymion a littleembarrassed. 

"The first part of her visit, " said Lady Roehampton, "she liked itamazingly. But my arrival and Lady Montfort's, I fear, broke up theirlittle parties. You were a great deal with the Neuchatels before wecame?"

"They are such a good family, " said Endymion; "so kind, so hospitable, such true friends. And Mr. Neuchatel himself is one of the shrewdest menthat probably ever lived. I like talking with him, or rather, I like tohear him talk. "

"O Endymion, " said Lady Roehampton, "if you were to marry Adriana, myhappiness would be complete. "

"Adriana will never marry, " said Endymion; "she is afraid of beingmarried for her money. I know twenty men who would marry her, if theythought there was a chance of being accepted; and the best man, Eusford, did make her an offer--that I know. And where could she find a matchmore suitable?--high rank, and large estate, and a man that everybodyspeaks well of. "

"Adriana will never marry except for the affections; there you areright, Endymion; she must love and she must be loved; but that is notvery unreasonable in a person who is young, pretty, accomplished, andintelligent. "

"She is all that, " said Endymion moodily. 

"And she loves you, " said Lady Roehampton. 

Endymion rather started, looked up for a moment at his sister, and thenwithdrew as hastily an agitated glance, and then with his eyes on theground said, in a voice half murmuring, and yet scoffingly: "I shouldlike to see Mr. Neuchatel's face were I to ask permission to marry hisdaughter. I suppose he would not kick me downstairs; that is out offashion; but he certainly would never ask me to dinner again, and thatwould be a sacrifice. "

"You jest, Endymion; I am not jesting. "

"There are some matters that can only be treated as a jest; and mymarriage with Miss Neuchatel is one. "

"It would make you one of the most powerful men in England, " said hissister. 

"Other impossible events would do the same. "

"It is not impossible; it is very possible, " said his sister, "believeme, trust in me. The happiness of their daughter is more precious to theNeuchatels even than their fortune. "

"I do not see why, at my age, I should be in such a hurry to marry, "said Endymion. 

"You cannot marry too soon, if by so doing you obtain the great objectof life. Early marriages are to be deprecated, especially for men, because they are too frequently imprudent; but when a man can marrywhile he is young, and at once realise, by so doing, all the resultswhich successful time may bring to him, he should not hesitate. "

"I hesitate very much, " said Endymion. "I should hesitate very much, even if affairs were as promising as I think you may erroneouslyassume. "

"But you must not hesitate, Endymion. We must never forget the greatobject for which we two live, for which, I believe, we were borntwins--to rebuild our house; to raise it from poverty, and ignominy, andmisery and squalid shame, to the rank and position which we demand, andwhich we believe we deserve. Did I hesitate when an offer of marriagewas made to me, and the most unexpected that could have occurred? Trueit is, I married the best and greatest of men, but I did not know thatwhen I accepted his hand. I married him for your sake, I married himfor my own sake, for the sake of the house of Ferrars, which I wishedto release and raise from its pit of desolation. I married him to securefor us both that opportunity for our qualities which they had lost, andwhich I believed, if enjoyed, would render us powerful and great. "

Endymion rose from his seat and kissed his sister. "So long as youlive, " he said, "we shall never be ignominious. "

"Yes, but I am nothing; I am not a man, I am not a Ferrars. The best ofme is that I may be a transient help to you. It is you who must dothe deed. I am wearied of hearing you described as Lady Roehampton'sbrother, or Lord Roehampton's brother-in-law. I shall never be contenttill you are greater than we are, and there is but one and only oneimmediate way of accomplishing it, it is by this marriage--and amarriage with whom? with an angelic being!"

"You take me somewhat by surprise, Myra. My thoughts have not beenupon this matter. I cannot fairly describe myself at this moment as amarrying man. "

"I know what you mean. You have female friendships, and I approve ofthem. They are invaluable to youth, and you have been greatly favouredin this respect. They have been a great assistance to you; beware lestthey become a hindrance. A few years of such feelings in a woman's lifeare a blazoned page, and when it is turned she has many other chapters, though they may not be as brilliant or adorned. But these few years in aman's life may be, and in your case certainly would be, the very marrowof his destiny. During the last five or six years, ever since ouremancipation, there has been a gradual but continuous developmentin your life. All has been preparatory for a position which you haveacquired. That position may lead to anything--in your case, I will stillbelieve, to everything--but there must be no faltering. Having crossedthe Alps, you must not find a Capua. I speak to you as I have not spokento you of late, because it was not necessary. But here is an opportunitywhich must not be lost. I feel half inspired, as when we parted inour misery at Hurstley, and I bade you, poor and obscure, go forth andconquer the world. "

Late on the night of the day, their last day at Paris, on whichthis conversation took place, Endymion received a note in well-knownhandwriting, and it ran thus:

"If it be any satisfaction to you to know that you made me very unhappyby not dining here to-day, you may be gratified. I am very unhappy. I know that I was unkind this morning, and rude, but as my anger wasoccasioned by your leaving me, my conduct might annoy but surely couldnot mortify you. I shall see you to-morrow, however early you maydepart, as I cannot let your dear sister leave Paris without myembracing her. 

"Your faithful friend, "Berengaria. "

CHAPTER LXXVI

In old days, it was the habit to think and say that the House of Commonswas an essentially "queer place, " which no one could understand untilhe was a member of it. It may, perhaps, be doubted whether that somewhatmysterious quality still altogether attaches to that assembly. "Our ownReporter, " has invaded it in all its purlieus. No longer content withgiving an account of the speeches of its members, he is not satisfiedunless he describes their persons, their dress, and their characteristicmannerisms. He tells us how they dine, even the wines and disheswhich they favour, and follows them into the very mysteries of theirsmoking-room. And yet there is perhaps a certain fine sense of thefeelings, and opinions, and humours of this assembly, which cannot beacquired by hasty notions and necessarily superficial remarks, butmust be the result of long and patient observation, and of that quicksympathy with human sentiment, in all its classes, which is involved inthe possession of that inestimable quality styled tact. 

When Endymion Ferrars first took his seat in the House of Commons, itstill fully possessed its character of enigmatic tradition. It had beenthought that this, in a great degree, would have been dissipated by theReform Act of 1832, which suddenly introduced into the hallowed precincta number of individuals whose education, manners, modes of thought, weredifferent from those of the previous inhabitants, and in some instances, and in some respects, quite contrary to them. But this was not so. Aftera short time it was observed that the old material, though at first muchless in quantity, had leavened the new mass; that the tone of the formerHouse was imitated and adopted, and that at the end of five years, aboutthe time Endymion was returned to Parliament, much of its serene, andrefined, and even classical character had been recovered. 

For himself, he entered the chamber with a certain degree of awe, which, with use, diminished, but never entirely disappeared. The scene was oneover which his boyhood even had long mused, and it was associated withall those traditions of genius, eloquence, and power that charm andinspire youth. His practical acquaintance with the forms and habitsof the House from his customary attendance on their debates as privatesecretary to a cabinet minister, was of great advantage to him, andrestrained that excitement which dangerously accompanies us when weenter into a new life, and especially a life of such deep and thrillinginterests and such large proportions. This result was also assistedby his knowledge, at least by sight, of a large proportion of the oldmembers, and by his personal and sometimes intimate acquaintance withthose of his own party. There was much in his position, therefore, to soften that awkward feeling of being a freshman, which is alwaysembarrassing. 

He took his place on the second bench of the opposition side of theHouse, and nearly behind Lord Roehampton. Mr. Bertie Tremaine, whomEndymion encountered in the lobby as he was escaping to dinner, highly disapproved of this step. He had greeted Endymion with affablecondescension. "You made your first mistake to-night, my dear Ferrars. You should have taken your seat below the gangway and near me, on theMountain. You, like myself, are a man of the future. "

"I am a member of the opposition. I do not suppose it signifies muchwhere I sit. "

"On the contrary, it signifies everything. After this great Toryreaction there is nothing to be done now by speeches, and, in allprobability, very little that can be effectually opposed. Much, therefore, depends upon where you sit. If you sit on the Mountain, the public imagination will be attracted to you, and when they areaggrieved, which they will be in good time, the public passion, whichis called opinion, will look to you for representation. My advice to myfriends now is to sit together and say nothing, but to profess throughthe press the most advanced opinions. We sit on the back bench of thegangway, and we call ourselves the Mountain. "

Notwithstanding Mr. Bertie Tremaine's oracular revelations, Endymion wasvery glad to find his old friend Trenchard generally his neighbour. Hehad a high opinion both of Trenchard's judgment and acquirements, andhe liked the man. In time they always managed to sit together. JobThornberry took his seat below the gangway, on the opposition side, andon the floor of the House. Mr. Bertie Tremaine had sent his brother, Mr. Tremaine Bertie, to look after this new star, who he was anxious shouldascend the Mountain; but Job Thornberry wishing to know whether theMountain were going for "total and immediate, " and not obtaining asufficiently distinct reply, declined the proffered intimation. Mr. Bertie Tremaine, being a landed proprietor as well as leader of theMountain, was too much devoted to the rights of labour to sanction suchmiddle-class madness. 

"Peel with have to do it, " said Job. "You will see. "

"Peel now occupies the position of Necker, " said Mr. Bertie Tremaine, "and will make the same _fiasco_. Then you will at last have a populargovernment. "

"And the rights of labour?" asked Job. "All I hope is, I may have gotsafe to the States before that day. "

"There will be no danger, " said Mr. Bertie Tremaine. "There is thisdifference between the English Mountain and the French. The EnglishMountain has its government prepared. And my brother spoke to youbecause, when the hour arrives, I wished to see you a member of it. "

"My dear Endymion, " said Waldershare, "let us dine together before wemeet in mortal conflict, which I suppose will be soon. I really thinkyour Mr. Bertie Tremaine the most absurd being out of Colney Hatch. "

"Well, he has a purpose, " said Endymion; "and they say that a man with apurpose generally sees it realised. '

"What I do like in him, " said Waldershare, "is this revival of thePythagorean system, and a leading party of silence. That is rich. "

One of the most interesting members of the House of Commons wasSir Fraunceys Scrope. He was the father of the House, though it wasdifficult to believe that from his appearance. He was tall, and had kepthis distinguished figure; a handsome man, with a musical voice, anda countenance now benignant, though very bright, and once haughty. Hestill retained the same fashion of costume in which he had ridden up toWestminster more than half a century ago, from his seat in Derbyshire, to support his dear friend Charles Fox; real top-boots, and a blue coatand buff waistcoat. He was a great friend of Lord Roehampton, had alarge estate in the same county, and had refused an earldom. KnowingEndymion, he came and sate by him one day in the House, and asked him, good-naturedly, how he liked his new life. 

"It is very different from what it was when I was your age. Up to Easterwe rarely had a regular debate, never a party division; very few peoplecame up indeed. But there was a good deal of speaking on all subjectsbefore dinner. We had the privilege then of speaking on the presentationof petitions at any length, and we seldom spoke on any other occasion. After Easter there was always at least one great party fight. This wasa mighty affair, talked of for weeks before it came off, and then rarelyan adjourned debate. We were gentlemen, used to sit up late, and shouldhave been sitting up somewhere else had we not been in the House ofCommons. After this party fight, the House for the rest of the sessionwas a mere club. "

"There was not much business doing then, " said Endymion. 

"There was not much business in the country then. The House of Commonswas very much like what the House of Lords is now. You went home todine, and now and then came back for an important division. "

"But you must always have had the estimates here, " said Endymion. 

"Yes, but they ran through very easily. Hume was the first man whoattacked the estimates. What are you going to do with yourself to-day?Will you take your mutton with me? You must come in boots, for it isnow dinner-time, and you must return, I fancy. Twenty years ago, noman would think of coming down to the House except in evening dress. Iremember so late as Mr. Canning, the minister always came down in silkstockings and pantaloons, or knee breeches. All things change, andquoting Virgil, as that young gentleman has just done, will be thenext thing to disappear. In the last parliament we often had Latinquotations, but never from a member with a new constituency. I haveheard Greek quoted here, but that was long ago, and a great mistake. TheHouse was quite alarmed. Charles Fox used to say as to quotation--'NoGreek; as much Latin as you like; and never French under anycircumstances. No English poet unless he had completed his century. 'These were like some other good rules, the unwritten orders of the Houseof Commons. "

CHAPTER LXXVII

While parliaments were dissolving and ministries forming, thedisappointed seeking consolation and the successful enjoying theirtriumph, Simon, Earl of Montfort, who just missed being a greatphilosopher, was reading "Topsy Turvy, " which infinitely amused him; thestyle so picturesque and lambent! the tone so divertingly cynical! Andif the knowledge of society in its pages was not so distinguished asthat of human nature generally, this was a deficiency obvious only to acomparatively limited circle of its readers. 

Lord Montfort had reminded Endymion of his promise to introduce thedistinguished author to him, and accordingly, after due researches as tohis dwelling-place, Mr. Ferrars called in Jermyn Street and sent uphis card, to know whether Mr. St. Barbe would receive him. This wasevidently not a matter-of-course affair, and some little time hadelapsed when the maid-servant appeared, and beckoned to Endymion tofollow her upstairs. 

In the front drawing-room of the first floor, robed in a flamingdressing-gown, and standing with his back to the fire and to thelooking-glass, the frame of which was encrusted with cards ofinvitation, the former colleague of Endymion received his visitor with asomewhat haughty and reserved air. 

"Well, I am delighted to see you again, " said Endymion. 

No reply but a ceremonious bow. 

"And to congratulate you, " Endymion added after a moment's pause. "Ihear of nothing but of your book; I suppose one of the most successfulthat have appeared for a long time. "

"Its success is not owing to your friends, " said Mr. St. Barbe tartly. 

"My friends!" said Endymion; "what could they have done to prevent it?"

"They need not have dissolved parliament, " said Mr. St. Barbe withirritation. "It was nearly fatal to me; it would have been to anybodyelse. I was selling forty thousand a month; I believe more than Gushyever reached; and so they dissolved parliament. The sale went down halfat once--and now you expect me to support your party!"

"Well, it was unfortunate, but the dissolution could hardly have doneyou any permanent injury, and you could scarcely expect that such anevent could be postponed even for the advantage of an individual sodistinguished as yourself. "

"Perhaps not, " said St. Barbe, apparently a little mollified, "but theymight have done something to show their regret at it. "

"Something!" said Endymion, "what sort of thing?"

"The prime minister might have called on me, or at least written to mea letter. I want none of their honours; I have scores of letters everyday, suggesting that some high distinction should be conferred on me. Ibelieve the nation expects me to be made a baronet. By the by, I heardthe other day you had got into parliament. I know nothing of thesematters; they do not interest me. Is it the fact?"

"Well, I was so fortunate, and there are others of your old friends, Trenchard, for example. "

"You do not mean to say that Trenchard is in parliament!" saidSt. Barbe, throwing off all his affected reserve. "Well, it is toodisgusting! Trenchard in parliament, and I obliged to think it a greatfavour if a man gives me a frank! Well, representative institutions haveseen their day. That is something. "

"I have come here on a social mission, " said Endymion in a soothingtone. "There is a great admirer of yours who much wishes to make youracquaintance. Trusting to our old intimacy, of which of course I am veryproud, it was even hoped that you might waive ceremony, and come anddine. "

"Quite impossible!" exclaimed St. Barbe, and turning round, he pointedto the legion of invitations before him. "You see, the world is at myfeet. I remember that fellow Seymour Hicks taking me to his rooms toshow me a card he had from a countess. What would he say to this?"

"Well, but you cannot be engaged to dinner every day, " said Endymion;"and you really may choose any day you like. "

"Well, there are not many dinners among them, to be sure, " said St. Barbe. "Small and earlies. How I hate a 'small and early'! Shown into aroom where you meet a select few who have been asked to dinner, and whoare chewing the cud like a herd of kine, and you are expected to tumblebefore them to assist their digestion! Faugh! No, sir; we only dineout now, and we think twice, I can tell you, before we accept even aninvitation to dinner. Who's your friend?"

"Well, my friend is Lord Montfort. "

"You do not mean to say that! And he is an admirer of mine?"

"An enthusiastic admirer. "

"I will dine with Lord Montfort. There is no one who appreciates socompletely and so highly the old nobility of England as myself. They area real aristocracy. None of the pinchbeck pedigrees and ormolu titlesof the continent. Lord Montfort is, I think, an earl. A splendid title, earl! an English earl; count goes for nothing. The Earl of Montfort! Anenthusiastic admirer of mine! The aristocracy of England, especially theold aristocracy, are highly cultivated. Sympathy from such a class isto be valued. I care for no other--I have always despised the million ofvulgar. They have come to me, not I to them, and I have always toldthem the truth about themselves, that they are a race of snobs, and theyrather like being told so. And now for your day?"

"Why not this day if you be free? I will call for you about eight, andtake you in my brougham to Montfort House. "

"You have got a brougham! Well, I suppose so, being a member ofparliament, though I know a good many members of parliament who have notgot broughams. But your family, I remember, married into the swells. Ido not grudge it you. You were always a good comrade to me. I never knewa man more free from envy than you, Ferrars, and envy is an odious vice. There are people I know, who, when they hear I have dined with the Earlof Montfort, will invent all sorts of stories against me, and send themto what they call the journals of society. "

"Well, then, it shall be to-day, " said Endymion, rising. 

"It shall be to-day, and to tell the truth, I was thinking this morningwhere I should dine to-day. What I miss here are the cafes. Now in Parisyou can dine every day exactly as it suits your means and mood. You maydine for a couple of francs in a quiet, unknown street, and very well;or you may dine for a couple of napoleons in a flaming saloon, withwindows opening on a crowded boulevard. London is deficient in diningcapability. "

"You should belong to a club. Do you not?"

"So I was told by a friend of mine the other day, --one of your greatswells. He said I ought to belong to the Athenaeum, and he wouldpropose me, and the committee would elect me as a matter of course. Theyrejected me and selected a bishop. And then people are surprised thatthe Church is in danger!"

CHAPTER LXXVIII

The condition of England at the meeting of Parliament in 1842 was notsatisfactory. The depression of trade in the manufacturing districtsseemed overwhelming, and continued increasing during the whole of theyear. A memorial from Stockport to the Queen in the spring representedthat more than half the master spinners had failed, and that no lessthan three thousand dwelling-houses were untenanted. One-fifth of thepopulation of Leeds were dependent on the poor-rates. The state ofSheffield was not less severe--and the blast furnaces of Wolverhamptonwere extinguished. There were almost daily meetings, at Liverpool, Manchester, and Leeds, to consider the great and increasing distress ofthe country, and to induce ministers to bring forward remedial measures;but as these were impossible, violence was soon substituted forpassionate appeals to the fears or the humanity of the government. Vastbodies of the population assembled in Staleybridge, and Ashton, andOldham, and marched into Manchester. 

For a week the rioting was unchecked, but the government despatched astrong military force to that city, and order was restored. 

The state of affairs in Scotland was not more favourable. There werefood riots in several of the Scotch towns, and in Glasgow the multitudeassembled, and then commenced what they called a begging tour, but whichwas really a progress of not disguised intimidation. The economic crisisin Ireland was yet to come, but the whole of that country was absorbedin a harassing and dangerous agitation for the repeal of the unionbetween the two countries. 

During all this time, the Anti-Corn Law League was holding regularand frequent meetings at Manchester, at which statements were madedistinguished by great eloquence and little scruple. But the ableleaders of this confederacy never succeeded in enlisting the sympathiesof the great body of the population. Between the masters and the workmenthere was an alienation of feeling, which apparently never could beremoved. This reserve, however, did not enlist the working classes onthe side of the government; they had their own object, and one whichthey themselves enthusiastically cherished. And this was the Charter, apolitical settlement which was to restore the golden age, and which themaster manufacturers and the middle classes generally looked uponwith even more apprehension than Her Majesty's advisers. It is hardlynecessary to add, that in a state of affairs like that which is herefaintly but still faithfully sketched, the rapid diminution of therevenue was inevitable, and of course that decline mainly occurred inthe two all-important branches of the customs and excise. 

There was another great misfortune also which at this trying time hungover England. The country was dejected. The humiliating disasters ofAfghanistan, dark narratives of which were periodically arriving, hadproduced a more depressing effect on the spirit of the country than allthe victories and menaces of Napoleon in the heyday of his wild career. At home and abroad, there seemed nothing to sustain the national spirit;financial embarrassment, commercial and manufacturing distress, socialand political agitation on the one hand, and on the other, the lossof armies, of reputation, perhaps of empire. It was true that theseexternal misfortunes could hardly be attributed to the new ministry--butwhen a nation is thoroughly perplexed and dispirited, it soon ceasesto make distinctions between political parties. The country is out ofsorts, and the "government" is held answerable for the disorder. 

Thus it will be seen, that, though the new ministry were supported by acommanding majority in parliament, and that, too, after a recent appealto the country, they were not popular, it may be truly said they wereeven the reverse. The opposition, on the other hand, notwithstandingtheir discomfiture, and, on some subjects, their disgrace, were by nomeans disheartened, and believed that there were economical causes atwork, which must soon restore them to power. 

The minister brought forward his revision of the tariff, which wasdenounced by the League as futile, and in which anathema the oppositionsoon found it convenient to agree. Had the minister included in hismeasure that "total and immediate repeal" of the existing corn lawswhich was preached by many as a panacea, the effect would have beenprobably much the same. No doubt a tariff may aggravate, or maymitigate, such a condition of commercial depression as periodicallyvisits a state of society like that of England, but it does not produceit. It was produced in 1842, as it had been produced at the presenttime, by an abuse of capital and credit, and by a degree of productionwhich the wants of the world have not warranted. 

And yet all this time, there were certain influences at work inthe great body of the nation, neither foreseen, nor for some timerecognised, by statesmen and those great capitalists on whose opinionstatesmen much depend, which were stirring, as it were, like theunconscious power of the forces of nature, and which were destined tobaffle all the calculations of persons in authority and the leadingspirits of all parties, strengthen a perplexed administration, confounda sanguine opposition, render all the rhetoric, statistics, andsubscriptions of the Anti-Corn Law League fruitless, and absolutely makethe Chartists forget the Charter. 

"My friends will not assist themselves by resisting the governmentmeasures, " said Mr. Neuchatel, with his usual calm smile, halfsceptical, half sympathetic. "The measures will do no good, but theywill do no harm. There are no measures that will do any good at thismoment. We do not want measures; what we want is a new channel. "

That is exactly what was wanted. There was abundant capital in thecountry and a mass of unemployed labour. But the markets on which theyhad of late depended, the American especially, were overworked andoverstocked, and in some instances were not only overstocked, butdisturbed by war, as the Chinese, for example--and capital and labourwanted "a new channel. "

The new channel came, and all the persons of authority, alike politicaland commercial, seemed quite surprised that it had arrived; but whena thing or a man is wanted, they generally appear. One or two lines ofrailway, which had been long sleepily in formation, about this time werefinished, and one or two lines of railway, which had been finished forsome time and were unnoticed, announced dividends, and not contemptibleones. Suddenly there was a general feeling in the country, that itscapital should be invested in railways; that the whole surface of theland should be transformed, and covered, as by a network, with thesemighty means of communication. When the passions of the English, naturally an enthusiastic people, are excited on a subject of finance, their will, their determination, and resource, are irresistible. Thiswas signally proved in the present instance, for they never ceasedsubscribing their capital until the sum entrusted to this new form ofinvestment reached an amount almost equal to the national debt; and thistoo in a very few years. The immediate effect on the condition of thecountry was absolutely prodigious. The value of land rose, all the blastfurnaces were relit, a stimulant was given to every branch of the hometrade, the amount suddenly paid in wages exceeded that ever knownin this country, and wages too at a high rate. Large portions of thelabouring classes not only enjoyed comfort, but commanded luxury. All this of course soon acted on the revenue, and both customs andespecially excise soon furnished an ample surplus. 

It cannot be pretended that all this energy and enterprise were free intheir operation from those evils which, it seems, must inevitably attendany extensive public speculation, however well founded. Many of thescenes and circumstances recalled the days of the South Sea Scheme. The gambling in shares of companies which were formed only in name waswithout limit. The principal towns of the north established for thatpurpose stock exchanges of their own, and Leeds especially, one-fifth ofwhose population had been authoritatively described in the first sessionof the new parliament as dependent on the poor-rates, now boasted astock exchange which in the extent of its transactions rivalled that ofthe metropolis. And the gambling was universal, from the noble to themechanic. It was confined to no class and to no sex. The scene whichtook place at the Board of Trade on the last day on which plans could belodged, and when midnight had arrived while crowds from the country werestill filling the hall, and pressing at the doors, deserved and requiredfor its adequate representation the genius of a Hogarth. This was theday on which it was announced that the total number of railway projects, on which deposits had been paid, had reached nearly to eight hundred. 

What is remarkable in this vast movement in which so many millions wereproduced, and so many more promised, is, that the great leaders of thefinancial world took no part in it. The mighty loan-mongers, on whosefiat the fate of kings and empires sometimes depended, seemed likemen who, witnessing some eccentricity of nature, watch it with mixedfeelings of curiosity and alarm. Even Lombard Street, which never wasmore wanted, was inactive, and it was only by the irresistible pressureof circumstances that a banking firm which had an extensive countryconnection was ultimately forced to take the leading part that wasrequired, and almost unconsciously lay the foundation of the vastfortunes which it has realised, and organise the varied connection whichit now commands. All seemed to come from the provinces, and from unknownpeople in the provinces. 

But in all affairs there must be a leader, and a leader appeared. Hewas more remarkable than the movement itself. He was a London tradesman, though a member of parliament returned for the first time to this Houseof Commons. This leader was Mr. Vigo. 

Mr. Vigo had foreseen what was coming, and had prepared for it. Heagreed with Mr. Neuchatel, what was wanted was "a new channel. " Thatchannel he thought he had discovered, and he awaited it. He himselfcould command no inconsiderable amount of capital, and he had afollowing of obscure rich friends who believed in him, and did what heliked. His daily visits to the City, except when he was travellingover England, and especially the north and midland counties, had theirpurpose and bore fruit. He was a director, and soon the chairman andleading spirit, of a railway which was destined to be perhaps our mostimportant one. He was master of all the details of the business; he hadarrived at conclusions on the question of the gauges, which then wasa _pons asinorum_ for the multitude, and understood all about rollingstock and permanent ways, and sleepers and branch lines, which were thencabalistic terms to the general. In his first session in parliament hehad passed quietly and almost unnoticed several bills on these matters, and began to be recognised by the Committee of Selection as a member whoought to be "put on" for questions of this kind. 

The great occasion had arrived, and Mr. Vigo was equal to it. He was oneof those few men who awake one day and find themselves famous. Suddenlyit would seem that the name of Mr. Vigo was in everybody's mouth. Therewas only one subject which interested the country, and he was recognisedas the man who best understood it. He was an oracle, and, naturally, soon became an idol. The tariff of the ministers was forgotten, theinvectives of the League were disregarded, their motions for the repealof the corn laws were invariably defeated by large and contemptuousmajorities. The House of Commons did nothing but pass railway bills, measures which were welcomed with unanimity by the House of Lords, whoseestates were in consequence daily increasing in value. People went tothe gallery to see Mr. Vigo introduce bills, and could scarcely restraintheir enthusiasm at the spectacle of so much patriotic energy, whichsecured for them premiums for shares, which they held in undertakings ofwhich the first sod was not yet cut. On one morning, the Great CloudlandCompany, of which he was chairman, gave their approval of twenty-sixbills, which he immediately introduced into parliament. Next day, theEbor and North Cloudland sanctioned six bills under his advice, andaffirmed deeds and agreements which affected all the principal railwayprojects in Lancashire and Yorkshire. A quarter of an hour later, justtime to hurry from one meeting to another, where he was always receivedwith rampant enthusiasm, Newcastle and the extreme north accepted hisdictatorship. During a portion of two days, he obtained the consent ofshareholders to forty bills, involving an expenditure of ten millions;and the engagements for one session alone amounted to one hundred andthirty millions sterling. 

Mr. Neuchatel shrugged his shoulders, but no one would listen even toMr. Neuchatel, when the prime minister himself, supposed to be the mostwary of men, and especially on financial subjects, in the very whiteheat of all this speculation, himself raised the first sod on his ownestate in a project of extent and importance. 

Throughout these extraordinary scenes, Mr. Vigo, though not free fromexcitement, exhibited, on the whole, much self-control. He was faithfulto his old friends, and no one profited more in this respect thanMr. Rodney. That gentleman became the director of several lines, andvice-chairman of one over which Mr. Vigo himself presided. No one wassurprised that Mr. Rodney therefore should enter parliament. He came inby virtue of one of those petitions that Tadpole was always cooking, orbaffling. Mr. Rodney was a supporter of the ministry, and Mr. Vigo wasa Liberal, but Mr. Vigo returned Mr. Rodney to parliament all thesame, and no one seemed astonished or complained. Political connection, political consistency, political principle, all vanished before thefascination of premiums. 

As for Endymion, the great man made him friendly and earnest overtures, and offered, if he would give his time to business, which, as he wasin opposition, would be no great sacrifice, to promote and secure hisfortune. But Endymion, after due reflection, declined, though withgratitude, these tempting proposals. Ferrars was an ambitious man, butnot too imaginative a one. He had a main object in life, and that was toregain the position which had been forfeited, not by his own fault. Hisgrandfather and his father before him had both been privy councillorsand ministers of state. There had, indeed, been more than the prospectof his father filling a very prominent position. All had been lost, butthe secret purpose of the life of Endymion was that, from being a clerkin a public office, he should arrive by his own energies at the stationto which he seemed, as it were, born. To accomplish this he feltthat the entire devotion of his labour and thought was requisite. Hischaracter was essentially tenacious, and he had already realised noinconsiderable amount of political knowledge and official experience. His object seemed difficult and distant, but there was nothing wild orvisionary in its pursuit. He had achieved some of the first steps, andhe was yet very young. There were friends about him, however, who werenot content with what they deemed his moderate ambition, and thoughtthey discerned in him qualities which might enable him to mount toa higher stage. However this might be, his judgment was that he mustresist the offers of Mr. Vigo, though they were sincerely kind, and sohe felt them. 

In the meantime, he frequently met that gentleman, and not merely inthe House of Commons. Mr. St. Barbe would have been frantically enviouscould he have witnessed and perused the social invitations that felllike a continuous snow-storm on the favoured roof of Mr. Vigo. Mr. Vigowas not a party question. He dined with high patricians who forgot theirpolitical differences, while they agreed in courting the presence ofthis great benefactor of his country. The fine ladies were as eager intheir homage to this real patriot, and he might be seen between rivalcountesses, who emulated each other in their appreciation of his publicservices. These were Mr. Vigo's dangerous suitors. He confessed toEndymion one day that he could not manage the great ladies. "Maleswells, " he would say laughingly, "I have measured physically andintellectually. " The golden youth of the country seemed fascinated byhis society, repeated his sententious bons-mot, and applied for sharesin every company which he launched into prosperous existence. 

Mr. Vigo purchased a splendid mansion in St. James' Square, whereinvitations to his banquets were looked upon almost as commands. Hischief cook was one of the celebrities of Europe, and though he hadserved emperors, the salary he received from Mr. Vigo exceeded any onehe had hitherto condescended to pocket. Mr. Vigo bought estates, hiredmoors, lavished his money, not only with profusion, but with generosity. Everything was placed at his command, and it appeared that there wasnothing that he refused. "When this excitement is over, " said Mr. BertieTremaine, "I hope to induce him to take India. "

In the midst of this commanding effulgence, the calmer beam of Mr. Rodney might naturally pass unnoticed, yet its brightness was clear andsustained. The Rodneys engaged a dwelling of no mean proportion inthat favoured district of South Kensington, which was then beginning toassume the high character it has since obtained. Their equipages weredistinguished, and when Mrs. Rodney entered the Park, driving hermatchless ponies, and attended by outriders, and herself bright asDiana, the world leaning over its palings witnessed her appearance withequal delight and admiration. 

CHAPTER LXXIX

We have rather anticipated, for the sake of the subject, in our lastchapter, and we must now recur to the time when, after his return fromParis, Endymion entered into what was virtually his first session in theHouse of Commons. Though in opposition, and with all the delights of themost charming society at his command, he was an habitual and constantattendant. One might have been tempted to believe that he would turn outto be, though a working, only a silent member, but his silence wasonly prudence. He was deeply interested and amused in watching theproceedings, especially when those took part in them with whom he wasacquainted. Job Thornberry occupied a leading position in the debates. He addressed the House very shortly after he took his seat, and havinga purpose and a most earnest one, and being what is styled arepresentative man of his subject, the House listened to him at once, and his place in debate was immediately recognised. The times favouredhim, especially during the first and second session, while thecommercial depression lasted; afterwards, he was always listened to, because he had great oratorical gifts, a persuasive style that waswinning, and, though he had no inconsiderable powers of sarcasm, his extreme tact wisely guided him to restrain for the present thatdangerous, though most effective, weapon. 

The Pythagorean school, as Waldershare styled Mr. Bertie Tremaine andhis following, very much amused Endymion. The heaven-born ministerair of the great leader was striking. He never smiled, or at any ratecontemptuously. Notice of a question was sometimes publicly givenfrom this bench, but so abstruse in its nature and so quaint in itsexpression, that the House never comprehended it, and the unfortunateminister who had to answer, even with twenty-four hours' study, wasobliged to commence his reply by a conjectural interpretation of thequery formally addressed to him. But though they were silent in theHouse, their views were otherwise powerfully represented. The weeklyjournal devoted to their principles was sedulously circulated amongmembers of the House. It was called the "Precursor, " and systematicallyattacked not only every institution, but, it might be said, everylaw, and all the manners and customs, of the country. Its style wasremarkable, never excited or impassioned, but frigid, logical, andincisive, and suggesting appalling revolutions with the calmness withwhich one would narrate the ordinary incidents of life. The editor ofthe "Precursor" was Mr. Jawett, selected by that great master of humannature, Mr. Bertie Tremaine. When it got about, that the editor of thisfearful journal was a clerk in a public office, the indignation of thegovernment, or at least of their supporters, was extreme, and there wasno end to the punishments and disgrace to which he was to be subjected;but Waldershare, who lived a good deal in Bohemia, was essentiallycosmopolitan, and dabbled in letters, persuaded his colleagues not tomake the editor of the "Precursor" a martyr, and undertook with theirauthority to counteract his evil purposes by literary means alone. 

Being fully empowered to take all necessary steps for this object, Waldershare thought that there was no better mode of arresting publicattention to his enterprise than by engaging for its manager the mostrenowned pen of the hour, and he opened himself on the subject in themost sacred confidence to Mr. St. Barbe. That gentleman, invited to callupon a minister, sworn to secrecy, and brimful of state secrets, couldnot long restrain himself, and with admirable discretion consulted onhis views and prospects Mr. Endymion Ferrars. 

"But I thought you were one of us, " said Endymion; "you asked me to putyou in the way of getting into Brooks'!"

"What of that?" said Mr. St. Barbe; "and when you remember what theWhigs owe to literary men, they ought to have elected me into Brooks'without my asking for it. "

"Still, if you be on the other side?"

"It is nothing to do with sides, " said Mr. St. Barbe; "this affair goesfar beyond sides. The 'Precursor' wants to put down the Crown; Ishall put down the 'Precursor. ' It is an affair of the closet, not ofsides--an affair of the royal closet, sir. I am acting for the Crown, sir; the Crown has appealed to me. I save the Crown, and there must bepersonal relations with the highest, " and he looked quite fierce. 

"Well, you have not written your first article yet, " said Endymion. "Ishall look forward to it with much interest. "

After Easter, Lord Roehampton said to Endymion that a question oughtto be put on a subject of foreign policy of importance, and on whichhe thought the ministry were in difficulties; "and I think you might aswell ask it, Endymion. I will draw up the question, and you will givenotice of it. It will be a reconnaissance. "

The notice of this question was the first time Endymion opened hismouth in the House of Commons. It was an humble and not a very hazardousoffice, but when he got on his legs his head swam, his heart beat soviolently, that it was like a convulsion preceding death, and thoughhe was only on his legs for a few seconds, all the sorrows of his lifeseemed to pass before him. When he sate down, he was quite surprisedthat the business of the House proceeded as usual, and it was only aftersome time that he became convinced that no one but himself was consciousof his sufferings, or that he had performed a routine duty otherwisethan in a routine manner. 

The crafty question, however, led to some important consequences. Whenasked, to the surprise of every one the minister himself replied to it. Waldershare, with whom Endymion dined at Bellamy's that day, was in nogood humour in consequence. 

When Lord Roehampton had considered the ministerial reply, he said toEndymion, "This must be followed up. You must move for papers. It willbe a good opportunity for you, for the House is up to something beingin the wind, and they will listen. It will be curious to see whether theminister follows you. If so, he will give me an opening. "

Endymion felt that this was the crisis of his life. He knew the subjectwell, and he had all the tact and experience of Lord Roehampton to guidehim in his statement and his arguments. He had also the great feelingthat, if necessary, a powerful arm would support him. It was about aweek before the day arrived, and Endymion slept very little that week, and the night before his motion not a wink. He almost wished he wasdead as he walked down to the House in the hope that the exercise mightremedy, or improve, his languid circulation; but in vain, and when hisname was called and he had to rise, his hands and feet were like ice. 

Lady Roehampton and Lady Montfort were both in the ventilator, and heknew it. 

It might be said that he was sustained by his utter despair. He feltso feeble and generally imbecile, that he had not vitality enough to besensible of failure. 

He had a kind audience, and an interested one. When he opened his mouth, he forgot his first sentence, which he had long prepared. In trying torecall it and failing, he was for a moment confused. But it was only fora moment; the unpremeditated came to his aid, and his voice, at firsttremulous, was recognised as distinct and rich. There was a murmur ofsympathy, and not merely from his own side. Suddenly, both physicallyand intellectually, he was quite himself. His arrested circulationflowed, and fed his stagnant brain. His statement was lucid, hisarguments were difficult to encounter, and his manner was modest. Hesate down amid general applause, and though he was then conscious thathe had omitted more than one point on which he had relied, he was onthe whole satisfied, and recollected that he might use them in reply, a privilege to which he now looked forward with feelings of comfort andconfidence. 

The minister again followed him, and in an elaborate speech. The subjectevidently, in the opinion of the minister, was of too delicate anddifficult a character to trust to a subordinate. Overwhelmed as he waswith the labours of his own department, the general conduct ofaffairs, and the leadership of the House, he still would undertake therepresentation of an office with whose business he was not familiar. Wary and accurate he always was, but in discussions on foreign affairs, he never exhibited the unrivalled facility with which he ever treateda commercial or financial question, or that plausible promptness withwhich, at a moment's notice, he could encounter any difficulty connectedwith domestic administration. 

All these were qualities which Lord Roehampton possessed with referenceto the affairs over which he had long presided, and in the presentinstance, following the minister, he was particularly happy. He hada good case, and he was gratified by the success of Endymion. Hecomplimented him and confuted his opponent, and, not satisfied withdemolishing his arguments, Lord Roehampton indulged in a little raillerywhich the House enjoyed, but which was never pleasing to the more solemnorganisation of his rival. 

No language can describe the fury of Waldershare as to the eventsof this evening. He looked upon the conduct of the minister, innot permitting him to represent his department, as a decree of theincapacity of his subordinate, and of the virtual termination of theofficial career of the Under-Secretary of State. He would have resignedthe next day had it not been for the influence of Lady Beaumaris, whosoothed him by suggesting, that it would be better to take an earlyopportunity of changing his present post for another. 

The minister was wrong. He was not fond of trusting youth, but it is aconfidence which should be exercised, particularly in the conduct of apopular assembly. If the under-secretary had not satisfactorily answeredEndymion, which no one had a right to assume, for Waldershare was abrilliant man, the minister could have always advanced to the rescueat the fitting time. As it was, he made a personal enemy of one whonaturally might have ripened into a devoted follower, and who fromhis social influence, as well as from his political talents, was nodespicable foe. 

CHAPTER LXXX

Notwithstanding the great political, and consequently social, changesthat had taken place, no very considerable alteration occurred inthe general life of those chief personages in whose existence we haveattempted to interest the reader. However vast may appear to be theworld in which we move, we all of us live in a limited circle. It isthe result of circumstances; of our convenience and our taste. LadyBeaumaris became the acknowledged leader of Tory society, and herhusband was so pleased with her position, and so proud of it, that he ina considerable degree sacrificed his own pursuits and pleasures for itsmaintenance. He even refused the mastership of a celebrated hunt, whichhad once been an object of his highest ambition, that he might be earlyand always in London to support his wife in her receptions. Imogeneherself was universally popular. Her gentle and natural manners, blendedwith a due degree of self-respect, her charming appearance, and herready but unaffected sympathy, won every heart. Lady Roehampton was herfrequent guest. Myra continued her duties as a leader of society, as herlord was anxious that the diplomatic world should not forget him. Thesewere the two principal and rival houses. The efforts of Lady Montfortwere more fitful, for they were to a certain degree dependent on themoods of her husband. It was observed that Lady Beaumaris never omittedattending the receptions of Lady Roehampton, and the tone of almostreverential affection with which she ever approached Myra was touchingto those who were in the secret, but they were few. 

No great change occurred in the position of Prince Florestan, exceptthat in addition to the sports to which he was apparently devoted, hegradually began to interest himself in the turf. He had bred severalhorses of repute, and one, which he had named Lady Roehampton, was thefavourite for a celebrated race. His highness was anxious that Myrashould honour him by being his guest. This had never occurred before, because Lord Roehampton felt that so avowed an intimacy with a personagein the peculiar position of Prince Florestan was hardly becoming aSecretary of State for Foreign Affairs; but that he was no longer, andbeing the most good-natured man that ever lived, and easily managed inlittle things, he could not refuse Myra when she consulted him, asthey call it, on the subject, and it was settled that Lord and LadyRoehampton were to dine with Prince Florestan. The prince was mostanxious that Mr. Sidney Wilton should take this occasion of consentingto a reconciliation with him, and Lady Roehampton exerted herself muchfor this end. Mr. Sidney Wilton was in love with Lady Roehampton, andyet on this point he was inexorable. Lord and Lady Beaumaris went, andLady Montfort, to whom the prince had addressed a private note of hisown that quite captivated her, and Mr. And Mrs. Neuchatel and Adriana. Waldershare, Endymion, and Baron Sergius completed the guests, who werereceived by the Duke of St. Angelo and a couple of aides-de-camp. Whenthe prince entered all rose, and the ladies curtseyed very low. LordRoehampton resumed his seat immediately, saying to his neighbour, "Irose to show my respect to my host; I sit down to show that I look uponhim as a subject like myself. "

"A subject of whom?" inquired Lady Montfort. 

"There is something in that, " said Lord Roehampton, smiling. 

The Duke of St. Angelo was much disturbed by the conduct of LordRoehampton, which had disappointed his calculations, and he went aboutlamenting that Lord Roehampton had a little gout. 

They had assembled in the library and dined on the same floor. Theprince was seated between Lady Montfort, whom he accompanied to dinner, and Lady Roehampton. Adriana fell to Endymion's lot. She lookedvery pretty, was beautifully dressed, and for her, was even gay. Hercompanion was in good spirits, and she seemed interested and amused. Theprince never spoke much, but his remarks always told. He liked murmuringto women, but when requisite, he could throw a fly over the table withadroitness and effect. More than once during the dinner he whisperedto Lady Roehampton: "This is too kind--your coming here. But you havealways been my best friend. " The dinner would have been lively andsuccessful even if Waldershare had not been there, but he to-day wasexuberant and irresistible. His chief topic was abuse of the governmentof which he was a member, and he lavished all his powers of invectiveand ridicule alike on the imbecility of their policy and theirindividual absurdities. All this much amused Lady Montfort, and gaveLord Roehampton an opportunity to fool the Under-Secretary of State tothe top of his bent. 

"If you do not take care, " said Mr. Neuchatel, "they will turn you out. "

"I wish they would, " said Waldershare. "That is what I am longing for. I should go then all over the country and address public meetings. Itwould be the greatest thing since Sacheverell. "

"Our people have not behaved well to Mr. Waldershare, " whispered Imogeneto Lord Roehampton, "but I think we shall put it all right. "

"Do you believe it?" inquired Lady Montfort of Lord Roehampton. He hadbeen speaking to her for some little time in a hushed tone, and ratherearnestly. 

"Indeed I do; I cannot well see what there is to doubt about it. We knowthe father very well--an excellent man; he was the parish priest of LadyRoehampton before her marriage, when she lived in the country. And weknow from him that more than a year ago something was contemplated. Theson gave up his living then; he has remained at Rome ever since. Andnow I am told he returns to us, the Pope's legate and an archbishop _inpartibus_!"

"It is most interesting, " said Lady Montfort. "I was always his greatadmirer. "

"I know that; you and Lady Roehampton made me go and hear him. Thefather will be terribly distressed. "

"I do not care at all about the father, " said Lady Montfort; "but theson had such a fine voice and was so very good-looking. I hope I shallsee him. "

They were speaking of Nigel Penruddock, whose movements had been amatter of much mystery during the last two years. Rumours of his havingbeen received into the Roman Church had been often rife; sometimesflatly, and in time faintly, contradicted. Now the facts seemedadmitted, and it would appear that he was about to return to England notonly as a Roman Catholic, but as a distinguished priest of the Church, and, it was said, even the representative of the Papacy. 

All the guests rose at the same time--a pleasant habit--and wentupstairs to the brilliantly lighted saloons. Lord Roehampton seatedhimself by Baron Sergius, with whom he was always glad to converse. "Weseem here quiet and content?" said the ex-minister inquiringly. 

"I hope so, and I think so, " said Sergius. "He believes in his star, and will leave everything to its influence. There are to be no moreadventures. "

"It must be a great relief to Lord Roehampton to have got quit ofoffice, " said Mrs. Neuchatel to Lady Roehampton. "I always pitied him somuch. I never can understand why people voluntarily incur such laboursand anxiety. "

"You should join us, " said Mr. Neuchatel to Waldershare. "They would bevery glad to see you at Brooks'. "

"Brooks' may join the October Club which I am going to revive, " saidWaldershare. 

"I never heard of that club, " said Mr. Neuchatel. 

"It was a much more important thing than the Bill of Rights or the Actof Settlement, " said Waldershare, "all the same. "

"I want to see his mother's portrait in the farther saloon, " said LadyMontfort to Myra. 

"Let us go together. " And Lady Roehampton rose, and they went. 

It was a portrait of Queen Agrippina by a master hand, and admirablyillumined by reflected light, so that it seemed to live. 

"She must have been very beautiful, " said Lady Montfort. 

"Mr. Sidney Wilton was devotedly attached to her, my lord has told me, "said Lady Roehampton. 

"So many were devotedly attached to her, " said Lady Montfort. 

"Yes; she was like Mary of Scotland, whom some men are in love with evento this day. Her spell was irresistible. There are no such women now. "

"Yes; there is one, " said Lady Montfort, suddenly turning round andembracing Lady Roehampton; "and I know she hates me, because she thinksI prevent her brother from marrying. "

"Dear Lady Montfort, how can you use such strong expressions? I am surethere can be only one feeling of Endymion's friends to you, and that isgratitude for your kindness to him. "

"I have done nothing for him; I can do nothing for him. I felt that whenwe were trying to get him into parliament. If he could marry, and beindependent, and powerful, and rich, it would be better, perhaps, forall of us. "

"I wish he were independent, and powerful, and rich, " said Myramusingly. "That would be a fairy tale. At present, he must be contentthat he has some of the kindest friends in the world. "

"He interests me very much; no one so much. I am sincerely, even deeplyattached to him; but it is like your love, it is a sister's love. Thereis only one person I really love in the world, and alas! he does notlove me!" And her voice was tremulous. 

"Do not say such things, dear Lady Montfort. I never can believe whatyou sometimes intimate on that subject. Do you know, I think it a littlehallucination. "

Lady Montfort shook her head with a truly mournful expression, and thensuddenly, her beautiful face wreathed with smiles, she said in a gayvoice, "We will not think of such sorrows. I wish them to be entombed inmy heart, but the spectres will rise sometimes. Now about your brother. I do not mean to say that it would not be a great loss to me if hemarried, but I wish him to marry if you do. For myself, I must havea male friend, and he must be very clever, and thoroughly understandpolitics. You know you deprived me of Lord Roehampton, " she continuedsmilingly, "who was everything I could desire; and the Count of Ferrollwould have suited me excellently, but then he ran away. Now Endymioncould not easily run away, and he is so agreeable and so intelligent, that at last I thought I had found a companion worth helping--and Imeant, and still mean, to work hard--until he is prime minister. "

"I have my dreams too about that, " said Lady Roehampton, "but we are allabout the same age, and can wait a little. "

"He cannot be minister too soon, " said Lady Montfort. "It was not beingminister soon that ruined Charles Fox. "

The party broke up. The prince made a sign to Waldershare, which meant aconfidential cigar, and in a few minutes they were alone together. 

"What women!" exclaimed the prince. "Not to be rivalled in this city, and yet quite unlike each other. "

"And which do you admire most, sir?" said Waldershare. 

The prince trimmed his cigar, and then he said, "I will tell you thisday five years. "

CHAPTER LXXXI

The ecclesiastical incident mentioned at the dinner described in ourlast chapter, produced a considerable effect in what is called society. Nigel Penruddock had obtained great celebrity as a preacher, whilehis extreme doctrines and practices had alike amazed, fascinated, andalarmed a large portion of the public. For some time he had withdrawnfrom the popular gaze, but his individuality was too strong to be easilyforgotten, even if occasional paragraphs as to his views and conduct, published, contradicted, and reiterated, were not sufficient to sustain, and even stimulate, curiosity. That he was about to return to his nativeland, as the Legate of His Holiness, was an event which made many menlook grave, and some female hearts flutter. 

The memory of Lady Roehampton could not escape from the past, and shecould not recall it and all the scenes at Hurstley without emotion; andLady Montfort remembered with some pride and excitement, that the Legateof the Pope had been one of her heroes. It was evident that he had nowish to avoid his old acquaintances, for shortly after his arrival, andafter he had assembled his suffragans, and instructed the clergy of hisdistrict, for dioceses did not then exist, Archbishop Penruddock, for sothe Metropolitan of Tyre simply styled himself, called upon both theseladies. 

His first visit was to Myra, and notwithstanding her disciplinedself-control, her intense pride, and the deep and daring spirit whichalways secretly sustained her, she was nervous and agitated, but only inher boudoir. When she entered the saloon to welcome him, she seemed ascalm as if she were going to an evening assembly. 

Nigel was changed. Instead of that anxious and moody look which formerlymarred the refined beauty of his countenance, his glance was calm andyet radiant. He was thinner, it might almost be said emaciated, whichseemed to add height to his tall figure. 

Lady Roehampton need not have been nervous about the interview, and thepain of its inevitable associations. Except one allusion at the end ofhis visit, when his Grace mentioned some petty grievance, of which hewished to relieve his clergy, and said, "I think I will consult yourbrother; being in the opposition, he will be less embarrassed than someof my friends in the government, or their supporters, " he never referredto the past. All he spoke of was the magnitude of his task, the immensebut inspiring labours which awaited him, and his deep sense of hisresponsibility. Nothing but the Divine principle of the Church couldsustain him. He was at one time hopeful that His Holiness might havethought the time ripe for the restoration of the national hierarchy, butit was decreed otherwise. Had it been accorded, no doubt it wouldhave assisted him. A prelate _in partibus_ is, in a certain sense, astranger, whatever his duties, and the world is more willing when itis appealed to by one who has "a local habitation and a name;" he isidentified with the people among whom he lives. There was much to do. The state of the Catholic poor in his own district was heartrending. Henever could have conceived such misery, and that too under the shadowof the Abbey. The few schools which existed were wretched, and his firstattention must be given to this capital deficiency. He trusted much tofemale aid. He meant to invite the great Catholic ladies to unite withhim in a common labour of love. In this great centre of civilisation, and wealth, and power, there was need of the spirit of a St. Ursula. 

No one seemed more pleased by the return of Archbishop Penruddock thanLord Montfort. He appeared to be so deeply interested in his Grace'smission, sought his society so often, treated him with such profoundrespect, almost ceremony, asked so many questions about what washappening at Rome, and what was going to be done here--that Nigel mighthave been pardoned if he did not despair of ultimately inducing LordMontfort to return to the faith of his illustrious ancestors. And yet, all this time, Lord Montfort was only amusing himself; a new characterwas to him a new toy, and when he could not find one, he would dip intothe "Memoirs of St. Simon. "

Instead of avoiding society, as was his wont in the old days, theArchbishop sought it. And there was nothing exclusive in his socialhabits; all classes and all creeds, all conditions and orders of men, were alike interesting to him; they were part of the mighty community, with all whose pursuits, and passions, and interests, and occupationshe seemed to sympathise, but respecting which he had only one object--tobring them back once more to that imperial fold from which, in an hourof darkness and distraction, they had miserably wandered. The conversionof England was deeply engraven on the heart of Penruddock; it was hisconstant purpose, and his daily and nightly prayer. 

So the Archbishop was seen everywhere, even at fashionable assemblies. He was a frequent guest at banquets which he never tasted, for he wasa smiling ascetic, and though he seemed to be preaching or celebratinghigh mass in every part of the metropolis, organising schools, establishing convents, and building cathedrals, he could find time tomove philanthropic resolutions at middle-class meetings, attend learnedassociations, and even occasionally send a paper to the Royal Society. 

The person who fell most under the influence of the archbishop wasWaldershare. He was fairly captivated by him. Nothing would satisfyWaldershare till he had brought the archbishop and Prince Florestantogether. "You are a Roman Catholic prince, sir, " he would say. "It isabsolute folly to forego such a source of influence and power as theRoman Catholic Church. Here is your man; a man made for the occasion, a man who may be pope. Come to an understanding with him, and I believeyou will regain your throne in a year. "

"But, my dear Waldershare, it is very true I am a Roman Catholic, but Iam also the head of the Liberal party in my country, and perhaps alsoon the continent of Europe, and they are not particularly affected toarchbishops and popes. "

"Old-fashioned twaddle of the Liberal party, " exclaimed Waldershare. "There is more true democracy in the Roman Catholic Church than in allthe secret societies of Europe. "

"There is something in that, " said the prince musingly, "and my friendsare Roman Catholics, nominally Roman Catholics. If I were quite sureyour man and the priests generally were nominally Roman Catholics, something might be done. "

"As for that, " said Waldershare, "sensible men are all of the samereligion. "

"And pray what is that?" inquired the prince. 

"Sensible men never tell. "

Perhaps there was no family which suited him more, and where thearchbishop became more intimate, than the Neuchatels. He very muchvalued a visit to Hainault, and the miscellaneous and influentialcircles he met there--merchant princes, and great powers of LombardStreet and the Stock Exchange. The Governor of the Bank happened to be ahigh churchman, and listened to the archbishop with evident relish. Mrs. Neuchatel also acknowledged the spell of his society, and he quiteagreed with her that people should be neither so poor nor so rich. Shehad long mused over plans of social amelioration, and her new ally wasto teach her how to carry them into practice. As for Mr. Neuchatel, hewas pleased that his wife was amused, and liked the archbishop as heliked all clever men. "You know, " he would say, "I am in favour of allchurches, provided, my lord archbishop, they do not do anything veryfoolish. Eh? So I shall subscribe to your schools with great pleasure. We cannot have too many schools, even if they only keep young peoplefrom doing mischief. "

CHAPTER LXXXII

The prosperity of the country was so signal, while Mr. Vigo wasunceasingly directing millions of our accumulated capital, and promisesof still more, into the "new channel, " that it seemed beyond beliefthat any change of administration could even occur, at least in theexperience of the existing generation. The minister to whose happydestiny it had fallen to gratify the large appetites and recklessconsuming powers of a class now first known in our social hierarchyas "Navvies, " was hailed as a second Pitt. The countenance of theopposition was habitually dejected, with the exception of those membersof it on whom Mr. Vigo graciously conferred shares, and Lady Montforttaunted Mr. Sidney Wilton with inquiries, why he and his friends hadnot made railroads, instead of inventing nonsense about cheap bread. Job Thornberry made wonderful speeches in favour of total and immediaterepeal of the corn laws, and the Liberal party, while they cheered him, privately expressed their regret that such a capital speaker, who mightbe anything, was not a practical man. Low prices, abundant harvests, and a thriving commerce had rendered all appeals, varied even by thepersuasive ingenuity of Thornberry, a wearisome irritation; and, thoughthe League had transplanted itself from Manchester to the metropolis, and hired theatres for their rhetoric, the close of 1845 found themnearly reduced to silence. 

Mr. Bertie Tremaine, who was always studying the spirit of the age, announced to the initiated that Mr. Vigo had something of the characterand structure of Napoleon, and that he himself began to believe, thatan insular nation, with such an enormous appetite, was not adaptedto cosmopolitan principles, which were naturally of a character morespiritual and abstract. Mr. Bertie Tremaine asked Mr. Vigo to dinner, and introduced him to several distinguished youths of extreme opinions, who were dining off gold plate. Mr. Vigo was much flattered by hisvisit; his host made much of him; and he heard many things on theprinciples of government, and even of society, in the largest sense ofthe expression, which astonished and amused him. In the course of theevening he varied the conversation--one which became the classic libraryand busts of the surrounding statesmen--by promising to most of theguests allotments of shares in a new company, not yet launched, butwhose securities were already at a high premium. 

Endymion, in the meantime, pursued the even tenor of his way. Guidedby the experience, unrivalled knowledge, and consummate tact of LordRoehampton, he habitually made inquiries, or brought forward motions, which were evidently inconvenient or embarrassing to the ministry; andthe very circumstance, that he was almost always replied to by the primeminister, elevated him in the estimation of the House as much as thepertinence of his questions, and the accurate information on which hefounded his motions. He had not taken the House with a rush like JobThornberry, but, at the end of three sessions, he was a personageuniversally looked upon as one who was "certain to have office. "

There was another new member who had also made way, though slowly, andthat was Mr. Trenchard; he had distinguished himself on a difficultcommittee, on which he had guided a perplexed minister, who waschairman, through many intricacies. Mr. Trenchard watched the operationsof Mr. Vigo, with a calm, cold scrutiny, and ventured one day to imparthis conviction to Endymion that there were breakers ahead. "Vigo isexhausting the floating capital of the country, " he said, and he offeredto give him all the necessary details, if he would call the attention ofthe House to the matter. Endymion declined to do this, chiefly becausehe wished to devote himself to foreign affairs, and thought the Housewould hardly brook his interference also in finance. So he stronglyadvised Trenchard himself to undertake the task. Trenchard was modest, and a little timid about speaking; so it was settled that he shouldconsult the leaders on the question, and particularly the gentleman whoit was supposed would be their Chancellor of the Exchequer, if everthey were again called upon to form a ministry. This right honourableindividual listened to Trenchard with the impatience which became a manof great experience addressed by a novice, and concluded the interviewby saying, that he thought "there was nothing in it;" at the sametime, he would turn it in his mind, and consult some practical men. Accordingly the ex- and future minister consulted Mr. Vigo, who assuredhim that he was quite right; that "there was nothing in it, " and thatthe floating capital of the country was inexhaustible. 

In the midst of all this physical prosperity, one fine day in August, parliament having just been prorogued, an unknown dealer in potatoeswrote to the Secretary of State, and informed him that he had reason tothink that a murrain had fallen over the whole of the potato cropsin England, and that, if it extended to Ireland, the most seriousconsequences must ensue. 

This mysterious but universal sickness of a single root changed thehistory of the world. 

"There is no gambling like politics, " said Lord Roehampton, as heglanced at the "Times, " at Princedown; "four cabinets in one week; thegovernment must be more sick than the potatoes. "

"Berengaria always says, " said Lord Montfort, "that you should seePrincedown in summer. I, on the contrary, maintain it is essentially awinter residence, for, if there ever be a sunbeam in England, Princedownalways catches it. Now to-day, one might fancy one's self at Cannes. "

Lord Montfort was quite right, but even the most wilful and selfish ofmen was generally obliged to pass his Christmas at his northerncastle. Montforts had passed their Christmas in that grim and mightydwelling-place for centuries. Even he was not strong enough to contendagainst such tradition. Besides, every one loves power, even if they donot know what to do with it. There are such things as memberships forcounties, which, if public feeling be not outraged, are hereditary, andadjacent boroughs, which, with a little management and much expense, become reasonable and loyal. If the flag were rarely to wave on theproud keep of Montfort, all these satisfactory circumstances would begreatly disturbed and baffled; and if the ancient ensign did not promisewelcome and hospitality at Christmas, some of the principal uses even ofEarls of Montfort might be questioned. 

There was another reason, besides the distance and the clime, why LordMontfort disliked the glorious pile which every Englishman envied himfor possession. The mighty domain of Montfort was an estate in strictsettlement. Its lord could do nothing but enjoy its convenience and itsbeauty, and expend its revenues. Nothing could be sold or bought, notthe slightest alteration--according to Lord Montfort--be made, withoutapplying to trustees for their sanction. Lord Montfort spoke of thispitiable state of affairs as if he were describing the serfdom of theMiddle Ages. "If I were to pull this bell-rope, and it came down, " hewould say, "I should have to apply to the trustees before it could bearranged. "

Such a humiliating state of affairs had induced his lordship, on thevery first occasion, to expend half a million of accumulations, whichwere at his own disposal, in the purchase of Princedown, which certainlywas a very different residence from Montfort Castle, alike in its climeand character. 

Princedown was situate in a southern county, hardly on a southerncoast, for it was ten miles from the sea, though enchanting views of theChannel were frequent and exquisite. It was a palace built in old daysupon the Downs, but sheltered and screened from every hostile wind. Thefull warmth of the south fell upon the vast but fantastic pile of theRenaissance style, said to have been built by that gifted but mysteriousindividual, John of Padua. The gardens were wonderful, terrace uponterrace, and on each terrace a tall fountain. But the most peculiarfeature was the park, which was undulating and extensive, but its timberentirely ilex: single trees of an age and size not common in that tree, and groups and clumps of ilex, but always ilex. Beyond the park, andextending far into the horizon, was Princedown forest, the dominion ofthe red deer. 

The Roehamptons and Endymion were the only permanent visitors atPrincedown at this moment, but every day brought guests who stayedeight-and-forty hours, and then flitted. Lady Montfort, like the managerof a theatre, took care that there should be a succession of noveltiesto please or to surprise the wayward audience for whom she had to cater. On the whole, Lord Montfort was, for him, in an extremely good humour;never very ill; Princedown was the only place where he never was veryill; he was a little excited, too, by the state of politics, thoughhe did not exactly know why; "though, I suppose, " he would say to LordRoehampton, "if you do come in again, there will be no more nonsenseabout O'Connell and all that sort of thing. If you are prudent onthat head, and carry a moderate fixed duty, not too high, say tenshillings--that would satisfy everybody--I do not see why the thingmight not go on as long as you liked. "

Mr. Waldershare came down, exuberant with endless combinationsof persons and parties. He foresaw in all these changes that mostprovidential consummation, the end of the middle class. 

Mr. Waldershare had become quite a favourite with Lord Montfort, whodelighted to talk with him about the Duke of Modena, and imbibe hisoriginal views of English History. "Only, " Lord Montfort would observe, "the Montforts have so much Church property, and I fancy the Duke ofModena would want us to disgorge. "

St. Barbe had been invited, and made his appearance. There had been adegree of estrangement between him and his patron. St. Barbe was veryjealous; he was indeed jealous of everybody and everything, and of latethere was a certain Doctor Comeley, an Oxford don of the new school, whohad been introduced to Lord Montfort, and was initiating him in allthe mysteries of Neology. This celebrated divine, who, in a sweet silkyvoice, quoted Socrates instead of St. Paul, and was opposed to allsymbols and formulas as essentially unphilosophical, had become the heroof "the little dinners" at Montfort House, where St. Barbe had been solong wont to shine, and who in consequence himself had become every daymore severely orthodox. 

"Perhaps we may meet to-day, " said Endymion one morning to St. Barbe inPall Mall as they were separating. "There is a little dinner at MontfortHouse. "

"Confound your little dinners!" exclaimed the indignant St. Barbe; "Ihope never to go to another little dinner, and especially at MontfortHouse. I do not want to be asked to dinner to tumble and play tricks toamuse my host. I want to be amused myself. One cannot be silent at theselittle dinners, and the consequence is, you say all the good thingswhich are in your next number, and when it comes out, people say theyhave heard them before. No, sir, if Lord Montfort, or any other lord, wishes me to dine with him, let him ask me to a banquet of his ownorder, and where I may hold my tongue like the rest of his aristocraticguests. "

Mr. Trenchard had come down and brought the news that the ministry hadresigned, and that the Queen had sent for the leader of the opposition, who was in Scotland. 

"I suppose we shall have to go to town, " said Lady Roehampton to herbrother, in a room, busy and full. "It is so difficult to be alonehere, " she continued in a whisper; "let us get into the gardens. " Andthey escaped. And then, when they were out of hearing and of sight ofany one, she said, "This is a most critical time of your life, Endymion;it makes me very anxious. I look upon it as certain that you will be inoffice, and in all probability under my lord. He has said nothing to meabout it, but I feel quite assured it will happen. It will be a greatevent. Poor papa began by being an under-secretary of state!" shecontinued in a moody tone, half speaking to herself, "and all seemed sofair then, but he had no root. What I want, Endymion, is that you shouldhave a root. There is too much chance and favour in your lot. They willfail you some day, some day too when I may not be by you. Even thisgreat opening, which is at hand, would never have been at your command, but for a mysterious gift on which you never could have counted. "

"It is very true, Myra, but what then?"

"Why, then, I think we should guard against such contingencies. You knowwhat is in my mind; we have spoken of it before, and not once only. Iwant you to marry, and you know whom. "

"Marriage is a serious affair!" said Endymion, with a distressed look. 

"The most serious. It is the principal event for good or for evil in alllives. Had I not married, and married as I did, we should not have beenhere--and where, I dare not think. "

"Yes; but you made a happy marriage; one of the happiest that was everknown, I think. "

"And I wish you, Endymion, to make the same. I did not marry for love, though love came, and I brought happiness to one who made me happy. Buthad it been otherwise, if there had been no sympathy, or prospect ofsympathy, I still should have married, for it was the only chance ofsaving you. "

"Dearest sister! Everything I have, I owe to you. "

"It is not much, " said Myra, "but I wish to make it much. Power in everyform, and in excess, is at your disposal if you be wise. There is awoman, I think with every charm, who loves you; her fortune may haveno limit; she is a member of one of the most powerful families inEngland--a noble family I may say, for my lord told me last nightthat Mr. Neuchatel would be instantly raised to the peerage, andyou hesitate! By all the misery of the past--which never can beforgotten--for Heaven's sake, be wise; do not palter with such achance. "

"If all be as you say, Myra, and I have no reason but your word tobelieve it is so--if, for example, of which I never saw any evidence, Mr. Neuchatel would approve, or even tolerate, this alliance--I have toodeep and sincere a regard for his daughter, founded on much kindnessto both of us, to mock her with the offer of a heart which she has notgained. "

"You say you have a deep and sincere regard for Adriana, " said hissister. "Why, what better basis for enduring happiness can there be?You are not a man to marry for romantic sentiment, and pass your lifein writing sonnets to your wife till you find her charms and yourinspiration alike exhausted; you are already wedded to the State, youhave been nurtured in the thoughts of great affairs from your verychildhood, and even in the darkest hour of our horrible adversity. Youare a man born for power and high condition, whose name in time ought torank with those of the great statesmen of the continent, the true lordsof Europe. Power, and power alone, should be your absorbing object, andall the accidents and incidents of life should only be considered withreference to that main result. "

"Well, I am only five-and-twenty after all. There is time yet toconsider this. "

"Great men should think of Opportunity, and not of Time. Time is theexcuse of feeble and puzzled spirits. They make time the sleepingpartner of their lives to accomplish what ought to be achieved by theirown will. In this case, there certainly is no time like the present. Theopportunity is unrivalled. All your friends would, without an exception, be delighted if you now were wise. "

"I hardly think my friends have given it a thought, " said Endymion, alittle flushed. 

"There is nothing that would please Lady Montfort more. "

He turned pale. "How do you know that?" he inquired. 

"She told me so, and offered to help me in bringing about the result. "

"Very kind of her! Well, dearest Myra, you and Lord Roehampton havemuch to think of at this anxious moment. Let this matter drop. We havediscussed it before, and we have discussed it enough. It is more thanpain for me to differ from you on any point, but I cannot offer toAdriana a heart which belongs to another. "

CHAPTER LXXXIII

All the high expectations of December at Princedown were doomed todisappointment; they were a further illustration of Lord Roehampton'ssaying, that there was no gambling like politics. The leader of theopposition came up to town, but he found nothing but difficulties, anda few days before Christmas he had resigned the proffered trust. Theprotectionist ministry were to remain in office, and to repeal the cornlaws. The individual who was most baulked by this unexpected result wasperhaps Lord Roehampton. He was a man who really cared for nothing butoffice and affairs, and being advanced in life, he naturally regretted alost opportunity. But he never showed his annoyance. Always playful, andeven taking refuge in a bantering spirit, the world seemed to go lightwith him when everything was dark and everybody despondent. 

The discontent or indignation which the contemplated revolution inpolicy was calculated to excite in the Conservative party generallywere to a certain degree neutralised for the moment by mysterious andconfidential communications, circulated by Mr. Tadpole and the managersof the party, that the change was to be accompanied by "immensecompensations. " As parliament was to meet as soon as convenient afterChristmas, and the statement of the regenerated ministry was then tobe made immediately, every one held his hand, as they all felt the blowmust be more efficient when the scheme of the government was known. 

The Montforts were obliged to go to their castle, a visit the sadnecessity of which the formation of a new government, at one time, theyhad hoped might have prevented. The Roehamptons passed their Christmaswith Mr. Sidney Wilton at Gaydene, where Endymion also and many of theopposition were guests. Waldershare took refuge with his friends theBeaumaris', full of revenge and unceasing combinations. He took down St. Barbe with him, whose services in the session might be useful. Therehad been a little misunderstanding between these two eminent personagesduring the late season. St. Barbe was not satisfied with his position inthe new journal which Waldershare had established. He affected to havebeen ill-treated and deceived, and this with a mysterious shake of thehead which seemed to intimate state secrets that might hereafter berevealed. The fact is, St. Barbe's political articles were so absurdthat it was impossible to print them; but as his name stood high as aclever writer on matters with which he was acquainted, they permittedhim, particularly as they were bound to pay him a high salary, tocontribute essays on the social habits and opinions of the day, which hetreated in a happy and taking manner. St. Barbe himself had such quickperception of peculiarities, so fine a power of observation, and so keena sense of the absurd, that when he revealed in confidence the causes ofhis discontent, it was almost impossible to believe that he was entirelyserious. It seems that he expected this connection with the journal inquestion to have been, to use his own phrase, "a closet affair, " andthat he was habitually to have been introduced by the backstairs ofthe palace to the presence of Royalty to receive encouragement andinspiration. "I do not complain of the pay, " he added, "though I couldget more by writing for Shuffle and Screw, but I expected a decoration. However, I shall probably stand for next parliament on the principles ofthe Mountain, so perhaps it is just as well. "

Parliament soon met, and that session began which will long bememorable. The "immense compensations" were nowhere. Waldershare, whohad only waited for this, resigned his office as Under-Secretary ofState. This was a bad example and a blow, but nothing compared tothe resignation of his great office in the Household by the Earl ofBeaumaris. This involved unhappily the withdrawal of Lady Beaumaris, under whose bright, inspiring roof the Tory party had long assembled, sanguine and bold. Other considerable peers followed the precedentof Lord Beaumaris, and withdrew their support from the ministry. Waldershare moved the amendment to the first reading of the obnoxiousbill; but although defeated by a considerable majority, the majority wasmainly formed by members of the opposition. Among these was Mr. Ferrars, who it was observed never opened his lips during the whole session. 

This was not the case with Mr. Bertie Tremaine and the school ofPythagoras. The opportunity long waited for had at length arrived. Therewas a great parliamentary connection deserted by their leaders. Thisdistinguished rank and file required officers. The cabinet of Mr. BertieTremaine was ready, and at their service. Mr. Bertie Tremaine secondedthe amendment of Waldershare, and took the occasion of expounding thenew philosophy, which seemed to combine the principles of Benthamwith the practice of Lord Liverpool. "I offered to you this, " he saidreproachfully to Endymion; "you might have been my secretary of state. Mr. Tremaine Bertie will now take it. He would rather have had anembassy, but he must make the sacrifice. "

The debates during the session were much carried on by the Pythagoreans, who never ceased chattering. They had men ready for every branch ofthe subject, and the debate was often closed by their chief in mysticalsentences, which they cheered like awestruck zealots. 

The great bill was carried, but the dark hour of retribution at lengtharrived. The ministry, though sanguine to the last of success, andnot without cause, were completely and ignominiously defeated. The newgovernment, long prepared, was at once formed. Lord Roehampton againbecame secretary of state, and he appointed Endymion to the post underhim. "I shall not press you unfairly, " said Mr. Bertie Tremaine toEndymion, with encouraging condescension. "I wish my men for a seasonto comprehend what is a responsible opposition. I am sorry Hortensiusis your solicitor-general, for I had intended him always for mychancellor. "

CHAPTER LXXXIV

Very shortly after the prorogation of parliament, an incident occurredwhich materially affected the position of Endymion. Lord Roehampton hada serious illness. Having a fine constitution, he apparently completelyrallied from the attack, and little was known of it by the public. Theworld also, at that moment, was as usual much dispersed and distracted;dispersed in many climes, and distracted by the fatigue and hardshipsthey annually endure, and which they call relaxation. Even thecolleagues of the great statesman were scattered, and before theyhad realised that he had been seriously ill, they read of him in thefulfilment of his official duties. But there was no mistake as to hisstate under his own roof. Lord Roehampton had, throughout the laterperiod of his life, been in the habit of working at night. It wasonly at night that he could command that abstraction necessary for theconsideration of great affairs. He was also a real worker. He wrote hisown despatches, whenever they referred to matters of moment. He left tothe permanent staff of his office little but the fulfilment of dutieswhich, though heavy and multifarious, were duties of routine. Thecomposition of these despatches was a source to Lord Roehampton of muchgratification and excitement. They were of European fame, and theirterse argument, their clear determination, and often their happy irony, were acknowledged in all the cabinets, and duly apprehended. 

The physicians impressed upon Lady Roehampton that this night-workmust absolutely cease. A neglect of their advice must lead to seriousconsequences; following it, there was no reason why her husband shouldnot live for years, and continue to serve the State. Lord Roehamptonmust leave the House of Commons; he must altogether change the orderof his life; he must seek more amusement in society, and yet keep earlyhours; and then he would find himself fresh and vigorous in the morning, and his work would rather benefit than distress him. It was all anaffair of habit. 

Lady Roehampton threw all her energies into this matter. She entertainedfor her lord a reverential affection, and his life to her seemed aprecious deposit, of which she was the trustee. She succeeded where thephysicians would probably have failed. Towards the end of the year LordRoehampton was called up to the House of Lords for one of his baronies, and Endymion was informed that when parliament met, he would have torepresent the Foreign Office in the House of Commons. 

Waldershare heartily congratulated him. "You have got what I mostwished to have in the world; but I will not envy you, for envy is a vilepassion. You have the good fortune to serve a genial chief. I had todeal with a Harley, --cold, suspicious, ambiguous, pretending to beprofound, and always in a state of perplexity. "

It was not a very agreeable session. The potato famine did somethingmore than repeal the corn laws. It proved that there was no floatingcapital left in the country; and when the Barings and Rothschildscombined, almost as much from public spirit as from private speculation, to raise a loan of a few millions for the minister, they absolutelyfound the public purse was exhausted, and had to supply the greaterportion of the amount from their own resources. In one of the manyfinancial debates that consequently occurred, Trenchard establishedhimself by a clear and comprehensive view of the position of affairs, and by modestly reminding the House, that a year ago he had predictedthe present condition of things, and indicated its inevitable cause. 

This was the great speech on a great night, and Mr. Bertie Tremainewalked home with Trenchard. It was observed that Mr. Bertie Tremainealways walked home with the member who had made the speech of theevening. 

"Your friends did not behave well to you, " he said in a hollow voice toTrenchard. "They ought to have made you Secretary of the Treasury. Thinkof this. It is an important post, and may lead to anything; and, so faras I am concerned, it would give me real pleasure to see it. "

But besides the disquietude of domestic affairs, famine and failurescompeting in horrible catastrophe and the Bank Act suspended, asthe year advanced matters on the Continent became not less dark andtroubled. Italy was mysteriously agitated; the pope announced himselfa reformer; there were disturbances in Milan, Ancona, and Ferrara; theAustrians threatened the occupation of several States, and Sardiniaoffered to defend His Holiness from the Austrians. In addition to allthis, there were reform banquets in France, a civil war in Switzerland, and the King of Prussia thought it prudent to present his subjects witha Constitution. 

The Count of Ferroll about this time made a visit to England. He wasalways a welcome guest there, and had received the greatest distinctionwhich England could bestow upon a foreigner; he had been elected anhonorary member of White's. "You may have troubles here, " he said toLady Montfort, "but they will pass; you will have mealy potatoesagain and plenty of bank notes, but we shall not get off so cheaply. Everything is quite rotten throughout the Continent. This year istranquillity to what the next will be. There is not a throne in Europeworth a year's purchase. My worthy master wants me to return home and beminister; I am to fashion for him a new constitution. I will never haveanything to do with new constitutions; their inventors are alwaysthe first victims. Instead of making a constitution, he should makea country, and convert his heterogeneous domains into a patrioticdominion. "

"But how is that to be done?"

"There is only one way; by blood and iron. "

"My dear count, you shock me!"

"I shall have to shock you a great deal more before the inevitable isbrought about. "

"Well, I am glad that there is something, " said Lady Montfort, "which isinevitable. I hope it will come soon. I am sure this country is ruined. What with cheap bread at famine prices and these railroads, we seemquite finished. I thought one operation was to counteract the other; butthey appear both to turn out equally fatal. "

Endymion had now one of those rare opportunities which, if men be equalto them, greatly affect their future career. As the session advanced, debates on foreign affairs became frequent and deeply interesting. Sofar as the ministry was concerned, the burthen of these fell on theUnder-Secretary of State. He was never wanting. The House felt that hehad not only the adequate knowledge, but that it was knowledge perfectlydigested; that his remarks and conduct were those of a man who hadgiven constant thought to his duties, and was master of his subject. Hisoratorical gifts also began to be recognised. The power and melodyof his voice had been before remarked, and that is a gift which muchcontributes to success in a popular assembly. He was ready without beingtoo fluent. There were light and shade in his delivery. He repressed hispower of sarcasm; but if unjustly and inaccurately attacked, he could bekeen. Over his temper he had a complete control; if, indeed, his entireinsensibility to violent language on the part of an opponent was notorganic. All acknowledged his courtesy, and both sides sympathised witha young man who proved himself equal to no ordinary difficulties. In aword, Endymion was popular, and that popularity was not diminished bythe fact of his being the brother of Lady Roehampton, who exercisedgreat influence in society, and who was much beloved. 

As the year advanced external affairs became daily more serious, andthe country congratulated itself that its interests were entrusted toa minister of the experience and capacity of Lord Roehampton. Thatstatesman seemed never better than when the gale ran high. Affairs inFrance began to assume the complexion that the Count of Ferroll hadprophetically announced. If a crash occurred in that quarter, LordRoehampton felt that all Europe might be in a blaze. Affairs were nevermore serious than at the turn of the year. Lord Roehampton told his wifethat their holidays must be spent in St. James' Square, for he could notleave London; but he wished her to go to Gaydene, where they had beeninvited by Mr. Sidney Wilton to pass their Christmas as usual. Nothing, however, would induce her to quit his side. He seemed quite well, butthe pressure of affairs was extreme; and sometimes, against all herremonstrances, he was again working at night. Such remonstrances onother subjects would probably have been successful, for her influenceover him was extreme. But to a minister responsible for the interestsof a great country they are vain, futile, impossible. One might as wellremonstrate with an officer on the field of battle on the danger he wasincurring. She said to him one night in his library, where she paid hima little visit before she retired, "My heart, I know it is no use mysaying anything, and yet--remember your promise. This night-work makesme very unhappy. "

"I remember my promise, and I will try not to work at night again in ahurry, but I must finish this despatch. If I did not, I could not sleep, and you know sleep is what I require. "

"Good night, then. "

He looked up with his winning smile, and held out his lips. "Kiss me, "he said; "I never felt better. "

Lady Roehampton after a time slumbered; how long she knew not, but whenshe woke, her lord was not at her side. She struck a light and looked ather watch. It was past three o'clock; she jumped out of bed, and, merelyin her slippers and her _robe de chambre_, descended to the library. Itwas a large, long room, and Lord Roehampton worked at the extreme endof it. The candles were nearly burnt out. As she approached him, sheperceived that he was leaning back in his chair. When she reached him, she observed he was awake, but he did not seem to recognise her. Adreadful feeling came over her. She took his hand. It was quite cold. Her intellect for an instant seemed to desert her. She looked round herwith an air void almost of intelligence, and then rushing to the bellshe continued ringing it till some of the household appeared. A medicalman was near at hand, and in a few minutes arrived, but it was abootless visit. All was over, and all had been over, he said, "for sometime. "

CHAPTER LXXXV

"Well, you have made up your government?" asked Lady Montfort of theprime minister as he entered her boudoir. He shook his head. 

"Have you seen her?" he inquired. 

"No, not yet; I suppose she will see me as soon as any one. "

"I am told she is utterly overwhelmed. "

"She was devoted to him; it was the happiest union I ever knew; butLady Roehampton is not the woman to be utterly overwhelmed. She has tooimperial a spirit for that. "

"It is a great misfortune, " said the prime minister. "We have not beenlucky since we took the reins. "

"Well, there is no use in deploring. There is nobody else to take thereins, so you may defy misfortunes. The question now is, what are yougoing to do?"

"Well, there seems to me only one thing to do. We must put Rawchesterthere. "

"Rawchester!" exclaimed Lady Montfort, "what, 'Niminy-Piminy'?"

"Well, he is conciliatory, " said the premier, "and if you are not veryclever, you should be conciliatory. "

"He never knows his own mind for a week together. "

"We will take care of his mind, " said the prime minister, "but he hastravelled a good deal, and knows the public men. "

"Yes, " said Lady Montfort, "and the public men, I fear, know him. "

"Then he can make a good House of Lords' speech, and we have afirst-rate man in the Commons; so it will do. "

"I do not think your first-rate man in the House of Commons willremain, " said Lady Montfort drily. 

"You do not mean that?" said the prime minister, evidently alarmed. 

"His health is delicate, " said Lady Montfort; "had it not been forhis devotion to Lord Roehampton, I know he thought of travelling for acouple of years. "

"Ferrars' health delicate?" said the premier; "I thought he was thepicture of health and youthful vigour. Health is one of the elementsto be considered in calculating the career of a public man, and I havealways predicted an eminent career for Ferrars, because, in addition tohis remarkable talents, he had apparently such a fine constitution. "

"No health could stand working under Lord Rawchester. "

"Well, but what am I to do? I cannot make Mr. Ferrars secretary ofstate. "

"Why not?"

The prime minister looked considerably perplexed. Such a promotion couldnot possibly have occurred to him. Though a man of many gifts, anda statesman, he had been educated in high Whig routine, and theproposition of Lady Montfort was like recommending him to make a curatea bishop. 

"Well, " he said, "Ferrars is a very clever fellow. He is our risingyoung man, and there is no doubt that, if his health is not so delicateas you fear, he will mount high; but though our rising young man, he isa young man, much too young to be a secretary of state. He wants age, larger acquaintance with affairs, greater position, and more root in thecountry. "

"What was Mr. Canning's age, who held Mr. Ferrars' office, when he wasmade secretary of state? and what root in the country had he?"

When the prime minister got back to Downing Street, he sent immediatelyfor his head whip. "Look after Ferrars, " he said; "they are trying toinduce him to resign office. If he does, our embarrassments will beextreme. Lord Rawchester will be secretary of state; send a paragraphat once to the papers announcing it. But look after Ferrars, andimmediately, and report to me. "

Lord Roehampton had a large entailed estate, though his affairs werealways in a state of confusion. That seems almost the inevitable resultof being absorbed in the great business of governing mankind. If therebe exceptions among statesmen of the highest class, they will generallybe found among those who have been chiefly in opposition, and so havehad leisure and freedom of mind sufficient to manage their estates. LordRoehampton had, however, extensive powers of charging his estate in lieuof dower, and he had employed them to their utmost extent; so hiswidow was well provided for. The executors were Mr. Sidney Wilton andEndymion. 

After a short period, Lady Roehampton saw Adriana, and not very longafter, Lady Montfort. They both of them, from that time, were herfrequent, if not constant, companions, but she saw no one else. Onceonly, since the terrible event, was she seen by the world, and that waswhen a tall figure, shrouded in the darkest attire, attended as chiefmourner at the burial of her lord in Westminster Abbey. She remainedpermanently in London, not only because she had no country house, but because she wished to be with her brother. As time advanced, shefrequently saw Mr. Sidney Wilton, who, being chief executor of thewill, and charged with all her affairs, had necessarily much on which toconsult her. One of the greatest difficulties was to provide her with asuitable residence, for of course, she was not to remain in the familymansion in St. James' Square. That difficulty was ultimately overcomein a manner highly interesting to her feelings. Her father's mansion inHill Street, where she had passed her prosperous and gorgeous childhood, was in the market, and she was most desirous to occupy it. "It will seemlike a great step towards the restoration, " she said to Endymion. "Myplans are, that you should give up the Albany, and that we should livetogether. I should like to live together in Hill Street; I should liketo see our nursery once more. The past then will be a dream, or at leastall the past that is disagreeable. My fortune is yours; as we are twins, it is likely that I may live as long as you do. But I wish you to bethe master of the house, and in time receive your friends in a mannerbecoming your position. I do not think that I shall ever much care to goout again, but I may help you at home, and then you can invite women; amere bachelor's house is always dull. "

There was one difficulty still in this arrangement. The mansion in HillStreet was not to be let, it was for sale, and the price naturally forsuch a mansion in such a situation, was considerable; quite beyond themeans of Lady Roehampton who had a very ample income, but no capital. This difficulty, however, vanished in a moment. Mr. Sidney Wiltonpurchased the house; he wanted an investment, and this was an excellentone; so Lady Roehampton became his tenant. 

The change was great in the life of Myra, and she felt it. She loved herlord, and had cut off her beautiful hair, which reached almost toher feet, and had tied it round his neck in his coffin. But Myra, notwithstanding she was a woman, and a woman of transcendent beauty, hadnever had a romance of the heart. Until she married, her pride and lovefor her brother, which was part of her pride, had absorbed her being. When she married, and particularly as time advanced, she felt all themisery of her existence had been removed, and nothing could exceed thetenderness and affectionate gratitude, and truly unceasing devotion, which she extended to the gifted being to who she owed this deliverance. But it was not in the nature of things that she could experience thosefeelings which still echo in the heights of Meilleraie, and comparedwith which all the glittering accidents of fortune sink intoinsignificance. 

The year rolled on, an agitated year of general revolution. Endymionhimself was rarely in society, for all the time which the House ofCommons spared to him he wished chiefly to dedicate to his sister. Hisbrougham was always ready to take him up to Hill Street for one of thosesomewhat hurried, but amusing little dinners, which break the monotonyof parliamentary life. And sometimes he brought a companion, generallyMr. Wilton, and sometimes they met Lady Montfort or Adriana, nowennobled as the daughter of Lord Hainault. There was much to talk about, even if they did not talk about themselves and their friends, forevery day brought great events, fresh insurrections, new constitutions, changes of dynasties, assassinations of ministers, states of siege, evanescent empires, and premature republics. 

On one occasion, having previously prepared his sister, who seemed notuninterested by the suggestion, Endymion brought Thornberry to dine inHill Street. There was no one else present except Adriana. Job was agreat admirer of Lady Roehampton, but was a little awestruck by her. Heremembered her in her childhood, a beautiful being who never smiled. Shereceived him very graciously, and after dinner, inviting him to sit byher on the sofa, referred with delicacy to old times. 

"Your ladyship, " said Thornberry, "would not know that I live myself nowat Hurstley. "

"Indeed!" said Myra, unaffectedly surprised. 

"Well, it happened in this way; my father now is in years, and can nolonger visit us as he occasionally did in Lancashire; so wishing to seeus all, at least once more, we agreed to pay him a visit. I do notknow how it exactly came about, but my wife took a violent fancy to theplace. They all received us very kindly. The good rector and his dearkind wife made it very pleasant, and the archbishop was there--whom weused to call Mr. Nigel--only think! That is a wonderful affair. He isnot at all high and mighty, but talked with us, and walked with us, justthe same as in old days. He took a great fancy to my boy, John Hampden, and, after all, my boy is to go to Oxford, and not to Owens College, asI had first intended. "

"That is a great change. "

"Well, I wanted him to go to Owens College, I confess, but I did notcare so much about Mill Hill. That was his mother's fancy; she wasvery strong about that. It is a Nonconformist school, but I am not aNonconformist. I do not much admire dogmas, but I am a Churchman as myfathers were. However, John Hampden is not to go to Mill Hill. He hasgone to a sort of college near Oxford, which the archbishop recommendedto us; the principal, and all the tutors are clergyman--of course of ourChurch. My wife was quite delighted with it all. "

"Well, that is a good thing. "

"And so, " continued Thornberry, "she got it into her head she shouldlike to live at Hurstley, and I took the place. I am afraid I have beenfoolish enough to lay out a great deal of money there--for a place notmy own. Your ladyship would not know the old hall. I have, whatthey call, restored it, and upon my word, except the new hall of theClothworkers' Company, where I dined the other day, I do not knowanything of the kind that is prettier. "

"The dear old hall!" murmured Lady Roehampton. 

In time, though no one mentioned it, everybody thought that if analliance ultimately took place between Lady Roehampton and Mr. SidneyWilton, it would be the most natural thing in the world, and everybodywould approve it. True, he was her father's friend, and much her senior, but then he was still good-looking, very clever, very much considered, and lord of a large estate, and at any rate he was a younger man thanher late husband. 

When these thoughts became more rife in society, and began to takethe form of speech, the year was getting old, and this reminds us ofa little incident which took place many months previously, at thebeginning of the year, and which we ought to record. 

Shortly after the death of Lord Roehampton, Prince Florestan called onemorning in St. James' Square. He said he would not ask Lady Roehamptonto see him, but he was obliged suddenly to leave England, and he did notlike to depart without personally inquiring after her. He left a letterand a little packet. And the letter ran thus:

"I am obliged, madam, to leave England suddenly, and it is probable thatwe shall never meet again. I should be happy if I had your prayers! Thislittle jewel enclosed belonged to my mother, the Queen Agrippina. Shetold me that I was never to part with it, except to somebody I lovedas much as herself. There is only one person in the world to whom I oweaffection. It is to her who from the first was always kind to me, andwho, through dreary years of danger and anxiety, has been the charm andconsolation of the life of

"Florestan. "

CHAPTER LXXXVI

On the evening of the day on which Prince Florestan personally leftthe letter with Lady Roehampton, he quitted London with the Duke of St. Angelo and his aides-de-camp, and, embarking in his steam yacht, whichwas lying at Southampton, quitted England. They pursued a prosperouscourse for about a week, when they passed through the Straits ofGibraltar, and, not long afterwards, cast anchor in a small and solitarybay. There the prince and his companions, and half-a-dozen servants, well armed and in military attire, left the yacht, and proceeded onfoot into the country for a short distance, when they arrived at a largefarmhouse. Here, it was evident, they were expected. Men came forwardwith many horses, and mounted, and accompanied the party which hadarrived. They advanced about ten miles, and halted as they wereapproaching a small but fortified town. 

The prince sent the Duke of St. Angelo forward to announce his arrivalto the governor, and to require him to surrender. The governor, however, refused, and ordered the garrison to fire on the invaders. This theydeclined to do; the governor, with many ejaculations, and stamping withrage, broke his sword, and the prince entered the town. He was warmlyreceived, and the troops, amounting to about twelve hundred men, placedthemselves at his disposal. The prince remained at this town onlya couple of hours, and at the head of his forces advanced into thecountry. At a range of hills he halted, sent out reconnoitring parties, and pitched his camp. In the morning, the Marquis of Vallombrosa, with alarge party of gentlemen well mounted, arrived, and were warmly greeted. The prince learnt from them that the news of his invasion had reachedthe governor of the province, who was at one of the most considerablecities of the kingdom, with a population exceeding two hundred thousand, and with a military division for its garrison. "They will not wait forour arrival, " said Vallombrosa, "but, trusting to their numbers, willcome out and attack us. "

The news of the scouts being that the mountain passes were quiteunoccupied by the enemy, the prince determined instantly to continue hisadvance, and take up a strong position on the other side of the range, and await his fate. The passage was well effected, and on the fourthday of the invasion the advanced guard of the enemy were in sight. Theprince commanded that no one should attend him, but alone and tying awhite handkerchief round his sword, he galloped up to the hostilelines, and said in a clear, loud voice, "My men, this is the sword of myfather!"

"Florestan for ever!" was the only and universal reply. The cheers ofthe advanced guard reached and were re-echoed by the main body. Thecommander-in-chief, bareheaded, came up to give in his allegiance andreceive his majesty's orders. They were for immediate progress, and atthe head of the army which had been sent out to destroy him, Florestanin due course entered the enthusiastic city which recognised him as itssovereign. The city was illuminated, and he went to the opera in theevening. The singing was not confined to the theatre. During the wholenight the city itself was one song of joy and triumph, and that night noone slept. 

After this there was no trouble and no delay. It was a triumphal march. Every town opened its gates, and devoted municipalities profferedgolden keys. Every village sent forth its troop of beautiful maidens, scattering roses, and singing the national anthem which had beencomposed by Queen Agrippina. On the tenth day of the invasion KingFlorestan, utterly unopposed, entered the magnificent capital of hisrealm, and slept in the purple bed which had witnessed his princelybirth. 

Among all the strange revolutions of this year, this adventure ofFlorestan was not the least interesting to the English people. Althoughsociety had not smiled on him, he had always been rather a favouritewith the bulk of the population. His fine countenance, his capitalhorsemanship, his graceful bow that always won a heart, his youth, andlove of sport, his English education, and the belief that he was sincerein his regard for the country where he had been so long a guest, wereelements of popularity that, particularly now he was successful, wereunmistakable. And certainly Lady Roehampton, in her solitude, didnot disregard his career or conduct. They were naturally often in herthoughts, for there was scarcely a day in which his name did not figurein the newspapers, and always in connection with matters of generalinterest and concern. The government he established was liberal, but itwas discreet, and, though conciliatory, firm. "If he declares for theEnglish alliance, " said Waldershare, "he is safe;" and he did declarefor the English alliance, and the English people were very pleased byhis declaration, which in their apprehension meant national progress, the amelioration of society, and increased exports. 

The main point, however, which interested his subjects was his marriage. That was both a difficult and a delicate matter to decide. The greatcontinental dynasties looked with some jealousy and suspicion on him, and the small reigning houses, who were all allied with the greatcontinental dynasties, thought it prudent to copy their example. Allthese reigning families, whether large or small, were themselves ina perplexed and alarmed position at this period, very disturbed abouttheir present, and very doubtful about their future. At last it wasunderstood that a Princess of Saxe-Babel, though allied with royal andimperial houses, might share the diadem of a successful adventurer, andthen in time, and when it had been sufficiently reiterated, paragraphsappeared unequivocally contradicting the statement, followed withagreeable assurances that it was unlikely that a Princess of Saxe-Babel, allied with royal and imperial houses, should unite herself to a parvenumonarch, however powerful. Then in turn these articles were stigmatisedas libels, and entirely unauthorised, and no less a personage than aprincess of the house of Saxe-Genesis was talked of as the future queen;but on referring to the "Almanach de Gotha, " it was discovered thatfamily had been extinct since the first French Revolution. So it seemedat last that nothing was certain, except that his subjects were veryanxious that King Florestan should present them with a queen. 

CHAPTER LXXXVII

As time flew on, the friends of Lady Roehampton thought and spoke, withanxiety about her re-entrance into society. Mr. Sidney Wilton had lentGaydene to her for the autumn, when he always visited Scotland, and thewinter had passed away uninterruptedly, at a charming and almost unknownwatering-place, where she seemed the only visitant, and where shewandered about in silence on the sands. The time was fast approachingwhen the inevitable year of seclusion would expire, and Lady Roehamptongave no indication of any change in her life and habits. At length, after many appeals, and expostulations, and entreaties, and littlescenes, the second year of the widowhood having advanced some months, it was decided that Lady Roehampton should re-enter society, and theoccasion on which this was to take place was no mean one. 

Lady Montfort was to give a ball early in June, and Royalty itselfwas to be her guests. The entertainments at Montfort House were alwaysmagnificent, but this was to exceed accustomed splendour. All the worldwas to be there, and all the world, who were not invited, were in asmuch despair as if they had lost their fortune or their character. 

Lady Roehampton had a passion for light, provided the light was notsupplied by gas or oil. Her saloons, even when alone, were alwaysbrilliantly illuminated. She held that the moral effect of such acircumstance on her temperament was beneficial, and not slight. It isa rare, but by no means a singular, belief. When she descended intoher drawing-room on the critical night, its resplendence was somepreparation for the scene which awaited her. She stood for a momentbefore the tall mirror which reflected her whole person. What were herthoughts? What was the impression that the fair vision conveyed?

Her countenance was grave, but it was not sad. Myra had now completed, or was on the point of completing, her thirtieth year. She was a womanof transcendent beauty; perhaps she might justly be described as themost beautiful woman then alive. Time had even improved her commandingmien, the graceful sweep of her figure and the voluptuous undulationof her shoulders; but time also had spared those charms which aremore incidental to early youth, the splendour of her complexion, thewhiteness of her teeth, and the lustre of her violet eyes. She had cutoff in her grief the profusion of her dark chestnut locks, that oncereached to her feet, and she wore her hair as, what was then and perhapsis now called, a crop, but it was luxuriant in natural quantity and richin colour, and most effectively set off her arched brow, and the ovalof her fresh and beauteous cheek. The crop was crowned to-night by acoronet of brilliants. 

"Your carriage is ready, my lady, " said a servant; "but there is agentleman below who has brought a letter for your ladyship, and which, he says, he must personally deliver to you, madam. I told him yourladyship was going out and could not see him, but he put his card inthis envelope, and requested that I would hand it to you, madam. He sayshe will only deliver the letter to your ladyship, and not detain you amoment. "

Lady Roehampton opened the envelope, and read the card, "The Duke of St. Angelo. "

"The Duke of St. Angelo!" she murmured to herself, and looked for amoment abstracted. Then turning to the servant, she said, "He must beshown up. "

"Madam, " said the duke as he entered, and bowed with much ceremony, "I am ashamed of appearing to be an intruder, but my commands were todeliver this letter to your ladyship immediately on my arrival, whateverthe hour. I have only this instant arrived. We had a bad passage. I knowyour ladyship's carriage is at the door. I will redeem my pledge and nottrespass on your time for one instant. If your ladyship requires me, Iam ever at your command. "

"At Carlton Gardens?"

"No; at our embassy. "

"His Majesty, I hope, is well?"

"In every sense, my lady, " and bowing to the ground the duke withdrew. 

She broke the seal of the letter while still standing, and held it to asconce that was on the mantel-piece, and then she read:

"You were the only person I called upon when I suddenly left England. I had no hope of seeing you, but it was the homage of gratitude andadoration. Great events have happened since we last met. I have realisedmy dreams, dreams which I sometimes fancied you, and you alone, did notdepreciate or discredit, and, in the sweetness of your charity, wouldnot have been sorry were they accomplished. 

"I have established what I believe to be a strong and just government ina great kingdom. I have not been uninfluenced by the lessons of wisdom Igained in your illustrious land. I have done some things which it was asolace for me to believe you would not altogether disapprove. 

"My subjects are anxious that the dynasty I have re-established shouldnot be evanescent. Is it too bold to hope that I may find a companionin you to charm and to counsel me? I can offer you nothing equal to yourtranscendent merit, but I can offer you the heart and the throne of

"Florestan. "

Still holding the letter in one hand, she looked around as if some onemight be present. Her cheek was scarlet, and there was for a moment anexpression of wildness in her glance. Then she paced the saloon with anagitated step, and then she read the letter again and again, and stillshe paced the saloon. The whole history of her life revolved before her;every scene, every character, every thought, and sentiment, and passion. The brightness of her nursery days, and Hurstley with all its miseries, and Hainault with its gardens, and the critical hour, which had openedto her a future of such unexpected lustre and happiness. 

The clock had struck more than once during this long and terriblesoliloquy, wherein she had to search and penetrate her inmost heart, andnow it struck two. She started, and hurriedly rang the bell. 

"I shall not want the carriage to-night, " she said, and when againalone, she sat down and, burying her face in her alabaster arms, for along time remained motionless. 

CHAPTER LXXXVIII

Had he been a youth about to make a _debut_ in the great world, SidneyWilton could not have been more agitated than he felt at the prospect ofthe fete at Montfort House. Lady Roehampton, after nearly two years ofretirement, was about to re-enter society. During this interval she hadnot been estranged from him. On the contrary, he had been her frequentand customary companion. Except Adriana, and Lady Montfort, andher brother, it might almost be said, her only one. Why then was heagitated? He had been living in a dream for two years, cherishing wildthoughts of exquisite happiness. He would have been content, had thedream never been disturbed; but this return to hard and practical lifeof her whose unconscious witchery had thrown a spell over his existence, roused him to the reality of his position, and it was one of terribleemotion. 

During the life of her husband, Sidney Wilton had been the silent adorerof Myra. With every accomplishment and every advantage that are supposedto make life delightful--a fine countenance, a noble mien, a mannernatural and attractive, an ancient lineage, and a vast estate--he wasthe favourite of society, who did more than justice to his talents, which, though not brilliant, were considerable, and who could not toomuch appreciate the high tone of his mind; his generosity and courage, and true patrician spirit which inspired all his conduct, and guided himever to do that which was liberal, and gracious, and just. 

There was only one fault which society found in Sidney Wilton; he wouldnot marry. This was provoking, because he was the man of all others whoought to marry, and make a heroine happy. Society did not give itup till he was forty, about the time he became acquainted with LadyRoehampton; and that incident threw no light on his purposes ormotives, for he was as discreet as he was devoted, and Myra herself wasunconscious of his being anything to her save the dearest friend of herfather, and the most cherished companion of her husband. 

When one feels deeply, one is apt to act suddenly, perhaps rashly. Thereare moments in life when suspense can be borne no longer. And SidneyWilton, who had been a silent votary for more than ten years, now feltthat the slightest delay in his fate would be intolerable. It was theball at Montfort House that should be the scene of this decision ofdestiny. 

She was about to re-enter society, radiant as the morn, amid flowers andmusic, and all the accidents of social splendour. His sympathetic hearthad been some solace to her in her sorrow and her solitude. Now, inthe joyous blaze of life, he was resolved to ask her whether it wereimpossible that they should never again separate, and in the crowd, aswell as when alone, feel their mutual devotion. 

Mr. Wilton was among those who went early to Montfort House, which wasnot his wont; but he was restless and disquieted. She could hardly havearrived; but there would be some there who would speak of her. That wasa great thing. Sidney Wilton had arrived at that state when conversationcan only interest on one subject. When a man is really in love, he isdisposed to believe that, like himself, everybody is thinking of theperson who engrosses his brain and heart. 

The magnificent saloons, which in half an hour would be almostimpassable, were only sprinkled with guests, who, however, wereconstantly arriving. Mr. Wilton looked about him in vain for the personwho, he was quite sure, could not then be present. He lingered by theside of Lady Montfort, who bowed to those who came, but who could sparefew consecutive words, even to Mr. Wilton, for her watchful eye expectedevery moment to be summoned to descend her marble staircase and receiveher royal guests. 

The royal guests arrived; there was a grand stir, and many graciousbows, and some cordial, but dignified, shake-hands. The rooms werecrowded; yet space in the ball-room was well preserved, so that theroyal vision might range with facility from its golden chairs to thebeauteous beings, and still more beautiful costumes, displaying withfervent loyalty their fascinating charms. 

There was a new band to-night, that had come from some distant butcelebrated capital; musicians known by fame to everybody, but whomnobody had ever heard. They played wonderfully on instruments of newinvention, and divinely upon old ones. It was impossible that anythingcould be more gay and inspiring than their silver bugles, and theircarillons of tinkling bells. 

They found an echo in the heart of Sidney Wilton, who, seated nearthe entrance of the ball-room, watched every arrival with anxiousexpectation. But the anxiety vanished for a moment under the influenceof the fantastic and frolic strain. It seemed a harbinger of happinessand joy. He fell into a reverie, and wandered with a delightfulcompanion in castles of perpetual sunshine, and green retreats, andpleasant terraces. 

But the lady never came. 

"Where can your sister be?" said Lady Montfort to Endymion. "Shepromised me to come early; something must have happened. Is she ill?"

"Quite well; I saw her before I left Hill Street. She wished me to comealone, as she would not be here early. 

"I hope she will be in time for the royal supper table; I quite count onher. "

"She is sure to be here. "

Lord Hainault was in earnest conversation with Baron Sergius, now theminister of King Florestan at the Court of St. James'. It was a wiseappointment, for Sergius knew intimately all the English statesmen ofeminence, and had known them for many years. They did not look upon himas the mere representative of a revolutionary and parvenu sovereign; hewas quite one of themselves, had graduated at the Congress of Vienna, and, it was believed, had softened many subsequent difficulties by hissagacity. He had always been a cherished guest at Apsley House, and itwas known the great duke often consulted him. "As long as Sergius swayshis councils, He will indulge in no adventures, " said Europe. "As longas Sergius remains here, the English alliance is safe, " said England. After Europe and England, the most important confidence to obtain wasthat of Lord Hainault, and Baron Sergius had not been unsuccessful inthat respect. 

"Your master has only to be liberal and steady, " said Lord Hainault, with his accustomed genial yet half-sarcastic smile, "and he may haveanything he likes. But we do not want any wars; they are not liked inthe City. "

"Our policy is peace, " said Sergius. 

"I think we ought to congratulate Sir Peter, " said Mr. Waldershare toAdriana, with whom he had been dancing, and whom he was leading back toLady Hainault. "Sir Peter, here is a lady who wishes to congratulate youon your deserved elevation. "

"Well, I do not know what to say about it, " said the former Mr. Vigo, highly gratified, but a little confused; "my friends would have it. "

"Ay, ay, " said Waldershare, "'at the request of friends;' the excuse Igave for publishing my sonnets. " And then, advancing, he deliveredhis charge to her _chaperon_, who looked dreamy, abstracted, anduninterested. 

"We have just been congratulating the new baronet, Sir Peter Vigo, " saidWaldershare. 

"Ah!" said Lady Hainault with a contemptuous sigh, "he is, at any rate, not obliged to change his name. The desire to change one's name doesindeed appear to me to be a singular folly. If your name had beendisgraced, I could understand it, as I could understand a man then goingabout in a mask. But the odd thing is, the persons who always want tochange their names are those whose names are the most honoured. "

"Oh, you are here!" said Mr. St. Barbe acidly to Mr. Seymour Hicks. "Ithink you are everywhere. I suppose they will make you a baronet next. Have you seen the batch? I could not believe my eyes when I read it. I believe the government is demented. Not a single literary man amongthem. Not that I wanted their baronetcy. Nothing would have tempted meto accept one. But there is Gushy; he, I know, would have liked it. Imust say I feel for Gushy; his works only selling half what they did, and then thrown over in this insolent manner!"

"Gushy is not in society, " said Mr. Seymour Hicks in a solemn tone ofcontemptuous pity. 

"That is society, " said St. Barbe, as he received a bow of haughty gracefrom Mrs. Rodney, who, fascinating and fascinated, was listening to theenamoured murmurs of an individual with a very bright star and a veryred ribbon. 

"I dined with the Rodneys yesterday, " said Mr. Seymour Hicks; "they dothe thing well. "

"You dined there!" exclaimed St. Barbe. "It is very odd, they havenever asked me. Not that I would have accepted their invitation. I avoidparvenus. They are too fidgety for my taste. I require repose, and onlydine with the old nobility. "

CHAPTER LXXXXIX

The Right Honourable Job Thornberry and Mrs. Thornberry had receivedan invitation to the Montfort ball. Job took up the card, and turned itover more than once, and looked at it as if it were some strange animal, with an air of pleased and yet cynical perplexity; then he shruggedhis shoulders and murmured to himself, "No, I don't think that will do. Besides, I must be at Hurstley by that time. "

Going to Hurstley now was not so formidable an affair as it was inEndymion's boyhood. Then the journey occupied a whole and wearisomeday. Little Hurstley had become a busy station of the great Slap-Bangrailway, and a despatch train landed you at the bustling and flourishinghostelry, our old and humble friend, the Horse Shoe, within thetwo hours. It was a rate that satisfied even Thornberry, and almostreconciled him to the too frequent presence of his wife and family atHurstley, a place to which Mrs. Thornberry had, it would seem, becomepassionately attached. 

"There is a charm about the place, I must say, " said Job to himself, as he reached his picturesque home on a rich summer evening; "and yet Ihated it as a boy. To be sure, I was then discontented and unhappy, andnow I have every reason to be much the reverse. Our feelings affecteven scenery. It certainly is a pretty place; I really think one of theprettiest places in England. "

Job was cordially welcomed. His wife embraced him, and the youngerchildren clung to him with an affection which was not diminished by theremembrance that their father never visited them with empty hands. Hiseldest son, a good-looking and well-grown stripling, just home for theholidays, stood apart, determined to show he was a man of the world, andsuperior to the weakness of domestic sensibility. When the hubbub was alittle over, he advanced and shook hands with his father with a certaindignity. 

"And when did you arrive, my boy? I was looking up your train inBradshaw as I came along. I made out you should get the branch atCulvers Gate. "

"I drove over, " replied the son; "I and a friend of mine drove tandem, and I'll bet we got here sooner than we should have done by the branch. "

"Hem!" said Job Thornberry. 

"Job, " said Mrs. Thornberry, "I have made two engagements for you thisevening. First, we will go and see your father, and then we are to drinktea at the rectory. "

"Hem!" said Job Thornberry; "well, I would rather the first eveningshould have been a quiet one; but let it be so. "

The visit to the father was kind, dutiful, and wearisome. There was nota single subject on which the father and son had thoughts in common. Theconversation of the father took various forms of expressing his wonderthat his son had become what he was, and the son could only smile, andturn the subject, by asking after the produce of some particular fieldthat had been prolific or obstinate in the old days. Mrs. Thornberrylooked absent, and was thinking of the rectory; the grandson whohad accompanied them was silent and supercilious; and everybody feltrelieved when Mrs. Thornberry, veiling her impatience by her fear ofkeeping her father-in-law up late, made a determined move and concludedthe domestic ceremony. 

The rectory afforded a lively contrast to the late scene. Mr. And Mrs. Penruddock were full of intelligence and animation. Their welcome ofMr. Thornberry was exactly what it ought to have been; respectful, evensomewhat differential, but cordial and unaffected. They conversed on allsubjects, public and private, and on both seemed equally well informed, for they not only read more than one newspaper, but Mrs. Penruddock hadan extensive correspondence, the conduct of which was one of the chiefpleasures and excitements of her life. Their tea-equipage, too, was apicture of abundance and refinement. Such pretty china, and such variousand delicious cakes! White bread, and brown bread, and plum cakes, andseed cakes, and no end of cracknels, and toasts, dry or buttered. Mrs. Thornberry seemed enchanted and gushing with affection, --everybody wasdear or dearest. Even the face of John Hampden beamed with condescendingdelight as he devoured a pyramid of dainties. 

Just before the tea-equipage was introduced Mrs. Penruddock rose fromher seat and whispered something to Mrs. Thornberry, who seemed pleasedand agitated and a little blushing, and then their hostess addressed Joband said, "I was mentioning to your wife that the archbishop was here, and that I hope you would not dislike meeting him. "

And very shortly after this, the archbishop, who had been taking avillage walk, entered the room. It was evident that he was intimate withthe occupiers of Hurstley Hall. He addressed Mrs. Thornberry with theease of habitual acquaintance, while John Hampden seemed almost to rushinto his arms. Job himself had seen his Grace in London, though hehad never had the opportunity of speaking to him, but yielded to hiscordiality, when the archbishop, on his being named, said, "It is apleasure to meet an old friend, and in times past a kind one. "

It was a most agreeable evening. The archbishop talked to every one, but never seemed to engross the conversation. He talked to the ladies ofgardens, and cottages, and a little of books, seemed deeply interestedin the studies and progress of the grandson Thornberry, who evidentlyidolised him; and in due course his Grace was engaged in economicalspeculations with Job himself, who was quite pleased to find a priest asliberal and enlightened as he was able and thoroughly informed. An hourbefore midnight they separated, though the archbishop attended them tothe hall. 

Mrs. Thornberry's birthday was near at hand, which Job alwayscommemorated with a gift. It had commenced with some severe offering, like "Paradise Lost, " then it fell into the gentler form of Tennyson, and, of late, unconsciously under the influence of his wife, it hadtaken the shape of a bracelet or a shawl. 

This evening, as he was rather feeling his way as to what might pleaseher most, Mrs. Thornberry embracing him, and hiding her face on hisbreast, murmured, "Do not give me any jewel, dear Job. What I shouldlike would be that you should restore the chapel here. "

"Restore the chapel here! oh, oh!" said Job Thornberry. 

CHAPTER XC

The archbishop called at Hurstley House the next day. It was a visitto Mr. Thornberry, but all the family were soon present, and clusteredround the visitor. Then they walked together in the gardens, whichhad become radiant under the taste and unlimited expenditure of Mrs. Thornberry; beds glowing with colour or rivalling mosaics, choiceconifers with their green or purple fruit, and rare roses with theirfanciful and beauteous names; one, by the by, named "Mrs. Penruddock, "and a very gorgeous one, "The Archbishop. "

As they swept along the terraces, restored to their pristine comeliness, and down the green avenues bounded by copper beeches and ancient yews, where men were sweeping away every leaf and twig that had fallen in thenight and marred the consummate order, it must have been difficultfor the Archbishop of Tyre not to recall the days gone by, when thisbrilliant and finished scene, then desolate and neglected, the abode ofbeauty and genius, yet almost of penury, had been to him a world of deepand familiar interest. Yes, he was walking in the same glade where hehad once pleaded his own cause with an eloquence which none of his mostcelebrated sermons had excelled. Did he think of this? If he did, itwas only to wrench the thought from his memory. Archbishops who areyet young, who are resolved to be cardinals, and who may be popes, aresuperior to all human weakness. 

"I should like to look at your chapel, " said his Grace to Mr. Thornberry; "I remember it a lumber room, and used to mourn over itsdesecration. "

"I never was in it, " said Job, "and cannot understand why my wife is soanxious about it as she seems to be. When we first went to London, shealways sate under the Reverend Socinus Frost, and seemed very satisfied. I have heard him; a sensible man--but sermons are not much in my way, and I do not belong to his sect, or indeed any other. "

However, they went to the chapel all the same, for Mrs. Thornberrywas resolved on the visit. It was a small chamber but beautifullyproportioned, like the mansion itself--of a blended Italian and Gothicstyle. The roof was flat, but had been richly gilt and painted, and wassustained by corbels of angels, divinely carved. There had been somepews in the building; some had fallen to pieces, and some remained, butthese were not in the original design. The sacred table had disappeared, but two saintly statues, sculptured in black oak, seemed still to guardthe spot which it had consecrated. 

"I wonder what became of the communion table?" said Job. 

"Oh! my dear father, do not call it a communion table, " exclaimed JohnHampden pettishly. 

"Why, what should I call it, my boy?"

"The altar. "

"Why, what does it signify what we call it? The thing is the same. "

"Ah!" exclaimed the young gentleman, in a tone of contemptuousenthusiasm, "it is all the difference in the world. There should be astone altar and a reredos. We have put up a reredos in our chapel atBradley. All the fellows subscribed; I gave a sovereign. "

"Well, I must say, " said the archbishop, who had been standing inadvance with Mrs. Thornberry and the children, while this brief andbecoming conversation was taking place between father and son, "Ithink you could hardly do a better thing than restore this chapel, Mr. Thornberry, but there must be no mistake about it. It must be restoredto the letter, and it is a style that is not commonly understood. I havea friend, however, who is a master of it, the most rising man in hisprofession, as far as church architecture is concerned, and I will gethim just to run down and look at this, and if, as I hope, you resolve torestore it, rest assured he will do you justice, and you will be proudof your place of worship. "

"I do not care how much we spend on our gardens, " said Job, "for theyare transitory pleasures, and we enjoy what we produce; but why I shouldrestore a chapel in a house which does not belong to myself is not soclear to me. "

"But it should belong to yourself, " rejoined the archbishop. "Hurstleyis not in the market, but it is to be purchased. Take it altogether, I have always thought it one of the most enviable possessions in theworld. The house, when put in order, would be one of the ornaments ofthe kingdom. The acreage, though considerable, is not overwhelming, andthere is a range of wild country of endless charm. I wandered about itin my childhood and my youth, and I have never known anything equal toit. Then as to the soil and all that, you know it. You are a son ofthe soil. You left it for great objects, and you have attained thoseobjects. They have given you fame as well as fortune. There would besomething wonderfully dignified and graceful in returning to the landafter you have taken the principal part in solving the difficultieswhich pertained to it, and emancipating it from many perils. "

"I am sure it would be the happiest day of my life, if Job wouldpurchase Hurstley, " said Mrs. Thornberry. 

"I should like to go to Oxford, and my father purchase Hurstley, " saidthe young gentleman. "If we have not landed property, I would soonerhave none. If we have not land, I should like to go into the Church, andif I may not go to Oxford, I would go to Cuddesdon at once. I know itcan be done, for I know a fellow who has done it. "

Poor Job Thornberry! He had ruled multitudes, and had conqueredand commanded senates. His Sovereign had made him one of her privycouncillors, and half a million of people had returned him theirrepresentative to parliament. And here he stood silent, and a littleconfused; sapped by his wife, bullied by his son, and after havingpassed a great part of his life in denouncing sacerdotalism, finding hiswhole future career chalked out, without himself being consulted, bya priest who was so polite, sensible, and so truly friendly, that hismanner seemed to deprive its victims of every faculty of retort orrepartee. Still he was going to say something when the door opened, andMrs. Penruddock appeared, exclaiming in a cheerful voice, "I thoughtI should find you here. I would not have troubled your Grace, butthis letter marked 'private, immediate, and to be forwarded, ' has beenwandering about for some time, and I thought it was better to bring itto you at once. "

The Archbishop of Tyre took the letter, and seemed to start as he readthe direction. Then he stood aside, opened it, and read its contents. The letter was from Lady Roehampton, desiring to see him as soon aspossible on a matter of the utmost gravity, and entreating him not todelay his departure, wherever he might be. 

"I am sorry to quit you all, " said his Grace; "but I must go up to townimmediately. The business is urgent. "

CHAPTER XCI

Endymion arrived at home very late from the Montfort ball, and rosein consequence at an unusually late hour. He had taken means to becomesufficiently acquainted with the cause of his sister's absence the nightbefore, so he had no anxiety on that head. Lady Roehampton had reallyintended to have been present, was indeed dressed for the occasion;but when the moment of trial arrived, she was absolutely unequal to theeffort. All this was amplified in a little note from his sister, whichhis valet brought him in the morning. What, however, considerablysurprised him in this communication was her announcement that herfeelings last night had proved to her that she ought not to remain inLondon, and that she intended to find solitude and repose in the littlewatering-place where she had passed a tranquil autumn during the firstyear of her widowhood. What completed his astonishment, however, was theclosing intimation that, in all probability, she would have left townbefore he rose. The moment she had got a little settled she would writeto him, and when business permitted, he must come and pay her a littlevisit. 

"She was always capricious, " exclaimed Lady Montfort, who had notforgotten the disturbance of her royal supper-table. 

"Hardly that, I think, " said Endymion. "I have always looked on Myra asa singularly consistent character. "

"I know, you never admit your sister has a fault. "

"You said the other day yourself that she was the only perfect characteryou knew. "

"Did I say that? I think her capricious. "

"I do not think you are capricious, " said Endymion, "and yet the worldsometimes says you are. "

"I change my opinion of persons when my taste is offended, " said LadyMontfort. "What I admired in your sister, though I confess I sometimeswished not to admire her, was that she never offended my taste. "

"I hope satisfied it, " said Endymion. 

"Yes, satisfied it, always satisfied it. I wonder what will be her lot, for, considering her youth, her destiny has hardly begun. Somehow orother, I do not think she will marry Sidney Wilton. "

"I have sometimes thought that would be, " said Endymion. 

"Well, it would be, I think, a happy match. All the circumstances wouldbe collected that form what is supposed to be happiness. But tastesdiffer about destinies as well as about manners. For my part, I thinkto have a husband who loved you, and he clever, accomplished, charming, ambitious, would be happiness; but I doubt whether your sister caresso much about these things. She may, of course does, talk to you morefreely; but with others, in her most open hours, there seems a secretfund of reserve in her character which I never could penetrate, except, I think, it is a reserve which does not originate in a love oftranquillity, but quite the reverse. She is a strong character. "

"Then, hardly a capricious one. "

"No, not capricious; I only said that to tease you. I am capricious;I know it. I disregard people sometimes that I have patronised andflattered. It is not merely that I have changed my opinion of them, butI positively hate them. "

"I hope you will never hate me, " said Endymion. 

"You have never offended my taste yet, " said Lady Montfort with a smile. 

Endymion was engaged to dine to-day with Mr. Bertie Tremaine. Althoughnow in hostile political camps, that great leader of men never permittedtheir acquaintance to cease. "He is young, " reasoned Mr. BertieTremaine; "every political party changes its principles on an averageonce in ten years. Those who are young must often then form newconnections, and Ferrars will then come to me. He will be ripe andexperienced, and I could give him a good deal. I do not want numbers. Iwant men. In opposition, numbers often only embarrass. The power of thefuture is ministerial capacity. The leader with a cabinet formed willbe the minister of England. He is not to trouble himself about numbers;that is an affair of the constituencies. "

Male dinners are in general not amusing. When they are formed, as theyusually are, of men who are supposed to possess a strong and commonsympathy--political, sporting, literary, military, social--there isnecessarily a monotony of thought and feeling, and of the materialswhich induce thought and feeling. In a male dinner of party politicians, conversation soon degenerates into what is termed "shop;" anecdotesabout divisions, criticism of speeches, conjectures about office, speculations on impending elections, and above all, that heinous subjecton which enormous fibs are ever told, the registration. There are, however, occasional glimpses in their talk which would seem to intimatethat they have another life outside the Houses of Parliament. But thatextenuating circumstance does not apply to the sporting dinner. Therethey begin with odds and handicaps, and end with handicaps and odds, andit is doubtful whether it ever occurs to any one present, that thereis any other existing combination of atoms than odds and handicaps. A dinner of wits is proverbially a place of silence; and the envy andhatred which all literary men really feel for each other, especiallywhen they are exchanging dedications of mutual affection, always ensure, in such assemblies, the agreeable presence of a general feeling ofpainful constraint. If a good thing occurs to a guest, he will notexpress it, lest his neighbour, who is publishing a novel in numbers, shall appropriate it next month, or he himself, who has the sameresponsibility of production, be deprived of its legitimate appearance. Those who desire to learn something of the manoeuvres at the Russian andPrussian reviews, or the last rumour at Aldershot or the military clubs, will know where to find this feast of reason. The flow of soul in thesemale festivals is perhaps, on the whole, more genial when found in asociety of young gentlemen, graduates of the Turf and the Marlborough, and guided in their benignant studies by the gentle experience and themild wisdom of White's. The startling scandal, the rattling anecdote, the astounding leaps, and the amazing shots, afford for the moment asomewhat pleasing distraction, but when it is discovered that all thesehabitual flim-flams are, in general, the airy creatures of inaccuracyand exaggeration--that the scandal is not true, the anecdote has nofoundation, and that the feats and skill and strength are invested withthe organic weakness of tradition, the vagaries lose something of thecharm of novelty, and are almost as insipid as claret from which thebouquet has evaporated. 

The male dinners of Mr. Bertie Tremaine were an exception to the generalreputation of such meetings. They were never dull. In the first place, though to be known at least by reputation was an indispensable conditionof being present, he brought different classes together, and this, atleast for once, stimulates and gratifies curiosity. His house too wasopen to foreigners of celebrity, without reference to their politicalparties or opinions. Every one was welcome except absolute assassins. The host too had studied the art of developing character andconversation, and if sometimes he was not so successful in this respectas he deserved, there was no lack of amusing entertainment, for in thesesocial encounters Mr. Bertie Tremaine was a reserve in himself, and ifnobody else would talk, he would avail himself of the opportunity ofpouring forth the treasures of his own teeming intelligence. His variousknowledge, his power of speech, his eccentric paradoxes, his pompousrhetoric, relieved by some happy sarcasm, and the obvious sense, in allhe said and did, of innate superiority to all his guests, made theseexhibitions extremely amusing. 

"What Bertie Tremaine will end in, " Endymion would sometimes say, "perplexes me. Had there been no revolution in 1832, and he had enteredparliament for his family borough, I think he must by this time havebeen a minister. Such tenacity of purpose could scarcely fail. But hehas had to say and do so many odd things, first to get into parliament, and secondly to keep there, that his future now is not so clear. WhenI first knew him, he was a Benthamite; at present, I sometimes seem toforesee that he will end by being the leader of the Protectionists andthe Protestants. "

"And a good strong party too, " said Trenchard, "but query whether strongenough?"

"That is exactly what Bertie Tremaine is trying to find out. "

Mr. Bertie Tremaine's manner in receiving his guests was courtly andceremonious; a contrast to the free and easy style of the time. But itwas adopted after due reflection. "No man can tell you what will be theposition he may be called upon to fill. But he has a right to assumehe will always be ascending. I, for example, may be destined to bethe president of a republic, the regent of a monarchy, or a sovereignmyself. It would be painful and disagreeable to have to change one'smanner at a perhaps advanced period of life, and become liable to theunpopular imputation that you had grown arrogant and overbearing. On thecontrary, in my case, whatever my elevation, there will be no change. My brother, Mr. Tremaine Bertie, acts on a different principle. He is aSybarite, and has a general contempt for mankind, certainly for the moband the middle class, but he is 'Hail fellow, well met!' with themall. He says it answers at elections; I doubt it. I myself representa popular constituency, but I believe I owe my success in no slightmeasure to the manner in which I gave my hand when I permitted it to betouched. As I say sometimes to Mr. Tremaine Bertie, 'You will findthis habit of social familiarity embarrassing when I send you to St. Petersburg or Vienna. '"

Waldershare dined there, now a peer, though, as he rejoiced to say, not a peer of parliament. An Irish peer, with an English constituency, filled, according to Waldershare, the most enviable of positions. Hisrank gave him social influence, and his seat in the House of Commonsthat power which all aspire to obtain. The cynosure of the banquet, however, was a gentleman who had, about a year before, been thepresident of a republic for nearly six weeks, and who being master of aspecies of rhapsodical rhetoric, highly useful in troubled times, whenthere is no real business to transact, and where there is nobody totransact it, had disappeared when the treasury was quite empty, andthere were no further funds to reward the enthusiastic citizens who hadhitherto patriotically maintained order at wages about double in amountto what they had previously received in their handicrafts. This greatreputation had been brought over by Mr. Tremaine Bertie, now introducinghim into English political society. Mr. Tremaine Bertie hung uponthe accents of the oracle, every word of which was intended to bepicturesque or profound, and then surveyed his friends with a glance ofappreciating wonder. Sensible Englishmen, like Endymion and Trenchard, looked upon the whole exhibition as fustian, and received therevelations with a smile of frigid courtesy. 

The presence, however, of this celebrity of six weeks gave occasionallya tone of foreign politics to the conversation, and the association ofideas, which, in due course, rules all talk, brought them, among otherincidents and instances, to the remarkable career of King Florestan. 

"And yet he has his mortifications, " said a sensible man. "He wants awife, and the princesses of the world will not furnish him with one. "

"What authority have you for saying so?" exclaimed the fieryWaldershare. "The princesses of the world would be great fools if theyrefused such a man, but I know of no authentic instance of such denial. "

"Well, it is the common rumour. "

"And, therefore, probably a common falsehood. "

"Were he wise, " said Mr. Bertie Tremaine, "King Florestan would notmarry. Dynasties are unpopular; especially new ones. The present age ismonarchical, but not dynastic. The king, who is a man of reach, and whohas been pondering such circumstances all his life, is probably wellaware of this, and will not be such a fool as to marry. "

"How is the monarchy to go on, if there is to be no successor?" inquiredTrenchard. "You would not renew the Polish constitution?"

"The Polish constitution, by the by, was not so bad a thing, " said Mr. Bertie Tremaine. "Under it a distinguished Englishman might have mixedwith the crowned heads of Europe, as Sir Philip Sidney nearly did. But Iwas looking to something superior to the Polish constitution, orperhaps any other; I was contemplating a monarchy with the principleof adoption. That would give you all the excellence of the Polishconstitution, and the order and constancy in which it failed. It wouldrealise the want of the age; monarchical, not dynastical, institutions, and it would act independent of the passions and intrigues of themultitude. The principle of adoption was the secret of the strength andendurance of Rome. It gave Rome alike the Scipios and the Antonines. "

"A court would be rather dull without a woman at its head. "

"On the contrary, " said Mr. Bertie Tremaine. "It was Louis Quatorze whomade the court; not his queen. "

"Well, " said Waldershare, "all the same, I fear King Florestan willadopt no one in this room, though he has several friends here, and I amone; and I believe that he will marry, and I cannot help fancying thatthe partner of this throne will not be as insignificant as Louis theFourteenth's wife, or Catherine of Braganza. "

Jawett dined this day with Mr. Bertie Tremaine. He was a frequent guestthere, and still was the editor of the "Precursor, " though it sometimesbaffled all that lucidity of style for which he was celebrated toreconcile the conduct of the party, of which the "Precursor" wasalike the oracle and organ, with the opinions with which that nowwell-established journal first attempted to direct and illuminate thepublic mind. It seemed to the editor that the "Precursor" dwelt moreon the past than became a harbinger of the future. Not that Mr. BertieTremaine ever for a moment admitted that there was any difficulty in anycase. He never permitted any dogmas that he had ever enunciated to besurrendered, however contrary at their first aspect. 

"All are but parts of one stupendous whole, "

and few things were more interesting than the conference in which Mr. Bertie Tremaine had to impart his views and instructions to the masterof that lucid style, which had the merit of making everything so veryclear when the master himself was, as at present, extremely perplexedand confused. Jawett lingered after the other guests, that he mighthave the advantage of consulting the great leader on the course whichhe ought to take in advocating a measure which seemed completely atvariance with all the principles they had ever upheld. 

"I do not see your difficulty, " wound up the host. "Your case is clear. You have a principle which will carry you through everything. That isthe charm of a principle. You have always an answer ready. "

"But in this case, " somewhat timidly inquired Mr. Jawett, "what would bethe principle on which I should rest?"

"You must show, " said Mr. Bertie Tremaine, "that democracy isaristocracy in disguise; and that aristocracy is democracy in disguise. It will carry you through everything. "

Even Jawett looked a little amazed. 

"But"--he was beginning, when Mr. Bertie Tremaine arose. "Think of whatI have said, and if on reflection any doubt or difficulty remain in yourmind, call on me to-morrow before I go to the House. At present, I mustpay my respects to Lady Beaumaris. She is the only woman the Tories canboast of; but she is a first-rate woman, and is a power which I mustsecure. "

CHAPTER XCII

A month had nearly elapsed since the Montfort ball; the season was overand the session was nearly finished. The pressure of parliamentary lifefor those in office is extreme during this last month, yet Endymionwould have contrived, were it only for a day, to have visited hissister, had Lady Roehampton much encouraged his appearance. Strange asit seemed to him, she did not, but, on the contrary, always assumed thatthe prorogation of parliament would alone bring them together again. When he proposed on one occasion to come down for four-and-twenty hours, she absolutely, though with much affection, adjourned the fulfilment ofthe offer. It seemed that she was not yet quite settled. 

Lady Montfort lingered in London even after Goodwood. She was ratherembarrassed, as she told Endymion, about her future plans. Lord Montfortwas at Princedown, where she wished to join him, but he did not respondto her wishes; on the contrary, while announcing that he was indisposed, and meant to remain at Princedown for the summer, he suggested that sheshould avail herself of the opportunity, and pay a long visit to herfamily in the north. "I know what he means, " she observed; "he wants theworld to believe that we are separated. He cannot repudiate me--he istoo great a gentleman to do anything coarsely unjust; but he thinks, bytact and indirect means, he may achieve our virtual separation. He hashad this purpose for years, I believe now ever since our marriage, buthitherto I have baffled him. I ought to be with him; I really believehe is indisposed, his face has become so pale of late; but were I topersist in going to Princedown I should only drive him away. He wouldgo off into the night without leaving his address, and something wouldhappen--dreadful or absurd. What I had best do, I think, is this. Youare going at last to pay your visit to your sister; I will write to mylord and tell him that as he does not wish me to go to Princedown, Ipropose to go to Montfort Castle. When the flag is flying at Montfort, I can pay a visit of any length to my family. It will only be aneighbouring visit from Montfort to them; perhaps, too, they mightreturn it. At any rate, then they cannot say my lord and I areseparated. We need not live under the same roof, but so long as I liveunder his roof the world considers us united. It is a pity to have toscheme in this manner, and rather degrading, particularly when one mightbe so happy with him. But you know, my dear Endymion, all about ouraffairs. Your friend is not a very happy woman, and if not a veryunhappy one, it is owing much to your dear friendship, and a little tomy own spirit which keeps me up under what is frequent and sometimesbitter mortification. And now adieu! I suppose you cannot be away lessthan a week. Probably on your return you will find me here. I cannot goto Montfort without his permission. But he will give it. I observe thathe will always do anything to gain his immediate object. His immediateobject is, that I shall not go to Princedown, and so he will agree thatI shall go to Montfort. "

For the first time in his life, Endymion felt some constraint inthe presence of Myra. There was something changed in her manner. Nodiminution of affection, for she threw her arms around him and pressedhim to her heart; and then she looked at him anxiously, even sadly, andkissed both his eyes, and then she remained for some moments insilence with her face hid on his shoulder. Never since the loss of LordRoehampton had she seemed so subdued. 

"It is a long separation, " she at length said, with a voice and smileequally faint, "and you must be a little wearied with your travelling. Come and refresh yourself, and then I will show you my boudoir I havemade here; rather pretty, out of nothing. And then we will sit down andhave a long talk together, for I have much to tell you, and I want youradvice. "

"She is going to marry Sidney Wilton, " thought Endymion; "that isclear. "

The boudoir was really pretty, "made out of nothing;" a gay chintz, someshelves of beautiful books, some fanciful chairs, and a portrait of LordRoehampton. 

It was a long interview, very long, and if one could judge by thecountenance of Endymion, when he quitted the boudoir and hastened to hisroom, of grave import. Sometimes his face was pale, sometimes scarlet;the changes were rapid, but the expression was agitated rather than oneof gratification. 

He sent instantly for his servant, and then penned this telegram to LadyMontfort: "My visit here will be short. I am to see you immediately. Nothing must prevent your being at home when I call to-morrow, aboutfour o'clock. Most, most important. "

CHAPTER XCIII

"Well, something has happened at last, " said Lady Montfort with awondering countenance; "it is too marvellous. "

"She goes to Osborne to-day, " continued Endymion, "and I suppose afterthat, in due course, it will be generally known. I should think theformal announcement would be made abroad. It has been kept wonderfullyclose. She wished you to know it first, at least from her. I do notthink she ever hesitated about accepting him. There was delay fromvarious causes; whether there should be a marriage by proxy first inthis country, and other points; about religion, for example. "

"Well?"

"She enters the Catholic Church, the Archbishop of Tyre has receivedher. There is no difficulty and no great ceremonies in such matters. Shewas re-baptized, but only by way of precaution. It was not necessary, for our baptism, you know, is recognised by Rome. "

"And that was all!"

"All, with a first communion and confession. It is all consummated now;as you say, 'It is too wonderful. ' A first confession, and to NigelPenruddock, who says life is flat and insipid!"

"I shall write to her: I must write to her. I wonder if I shall see herbefore she departs. "

"That is certain if you wish it; she wishes it. "

"And when does she go? And who goes with her?"

"She will be under my charge, " said Endymion. "It is fortunate that itshould happen at a time when I am free. I am personally to deliver herto the king. The Duke of St. Angelo, Baron Sergius, and the archbishopaccompany her, and Waldershare, at the particular request of hisMajesty. "

"And no lady?"

"She takes Adriana with her. "

"Adriana!" repeated Lady Montfort, and a cloud passed over her brow. There was a momentary pause, and then Lady Montfort said, "I wish shewould take me. "

"That would be delightful, " said Endymion, "and most becoming--to havefor a companion the greatest lady of our court. "

"She will not take me with her, " said Lady Montfort, sorrowfully butdecisively, and shaking her head. "Dear woman! I loved her always, often most when I seemed least affectionate--but there was between ussomething"--and she hesitated. "Heigho! I may be the greatest lady ofour court, but I am a very unhappy woman, Endymion, and what annoys anddispirits me most, sometimes quite breaks me down, is that I cannot seethat I deserve my lot. "

It happened as Endymion foresaw; the first announcement came fromabroad. King Florestan suddenly sent a message to his parliament, thathis Majesty was about to present them with a queen. She was not thedaughter of a reigning house, but she came from the land of freedom andpolitical wisdom, and from the purest and most powerful court in Europe. His subjects soon learnt that she was the most beautiful of women, forthe portrait of the Countess of Roehampton, as it were by magic, seemedsuddenly to fill every window in every shop in the teeming and brilliantcapital where she was about to reign. 

It was convenient that these great events should occur when everybodywas out of town. Lady Montfort alone remained, the frequent, if notconstant, companion of the new sovereign. Berengaria soon recovered herhigh spirits. There was much to do and prepare in which her hintsand advice were invaluable. Though she was not to have the honour ofattending Myra to her new home, which, considering her high place in theEnglish court, was perhaps hardly consistent with etiquette, for so shenow cleverly put it, she was to pay her Majesty a visit in due time. Themomentary despondency that had clouded her brilliant countenance had notonly disappeared, but she had quite forgotten, and certainly would notadmit, that she was anything but the most sanguine and energetic ofbeings, and rallied Endymion unmercifully for his careworn countenanceand too frequent air of depression. The truth is, the great change thatwas impending was one which might well make him serious, and sometimessad. 

The withdrawal of a female influence, so potent on his life as that ofhis sister, was itself a great event. There had been between them fromthe cradle, which, it may be said, they had shared, a strong and perfectsympathy. They had experienced together vast and strange vicissitudes oflife. Though much separated in his early youth, there had still been aconstant interchange of thought and feeling between them. For the lasttwelve years or so, ever since Myra had become acquainted with theNeuchatel family, they may be said never to have separated--at leastthey had maintained a constant communication, and generally a personalone. She had in a great degree moulded his life. Her unfaltering, thoughoften unseen, influence had created his advancement. Her will was morepowerful than his. He was more prudent and plastic. He felt this keenly. He was conscious that, left to himself, he would probably have achievedmuch less. He remembered her words when they parted for the first timeat Hurstley, "Women will be your best friends in life. " And that broughthis thoughts to the only subject on which they had ever differed--herwished-for union between himself and Adriana. He felt he had crossed herthere--that he had prevented the fulfilment of her deeply-matured plans. Perhaps, had that marriage taken place, she would never have quittedEngland. Perhaps; but was that desirable? Was it not fitter that solofty a spirit should find a seat as exalted as her capacity? Myra wasa sovereign! In this age of strange events, not the least strange. No petty cares and griefs must obtrude themselves in such majesticassociations. And yet the days at Hainault were very happy, and thebright visits to Gaydene, and her own pleasant though stately home. Hisheart was agitated, and his eyes were often moistened with emotion. He seemed to think that all the thrones of Christendom could be nocompensation for the loss of this beloved genius of his life, whomhe might never see again. Sometimes, when he paid his daily visit toBerengaria, she who knew him by heart, who studied every expression ofhis countenance and every tone of his voice, would say to him, after afew minutes of desultory and feeble conversation, "You are thinking ofyour sister, Endymion?"

He did not reply, but gave a sort of faint mournful smile. 

"This separation is a trial, a severe one, and I knew you would feelit, " said Lady Montfort. "I feel it; I loved your sister, but she didnot love me. Nobody that I love ever does love me. "

"Oh! do not say that, Lady Montfort. "

"It is what I feel. I cannot console you. There is nothing I can do foryou. My friendship, if you value it, which I will not doubt you do, you fully possessed before your sister was a Queen. So that goes fornothing. "

"I must say, I feel sometimes most miserable. "

"Nonsense, Endymion; if anything could annoy your sister more thananother, it would be to hear of such feelings on your part. I must sayshe has courage. She has found her fitting place. Her brother ought todo the same. You have a great object in life, at least you had, but Ihave no faith in sentimentalists. If I had been sentimental, I shouldhave gone into a convent long ago. "

"If to feel is to be sentimental, I cannot help it. "

"All feeling which has no object to attain is morbid and maudlin, " saidLady Montfort. "You say you are very miserable, and at the same time youdo not know what you want. Would you have your sister dethroned? And ifyou would, could you accomplish your purpose? Well, then, what nonsenseto think about her except to feel proud of her elevation, and prouderstill that she is equal to it!"

"You always have the best of every argument, " said Endymion. 

"Of course, " said Lady Montfort. "What I want you to do is to exertyourself. You have now a strong social position, for Sidney Wilton tellsme the Queen has relinquished to you her mansion and the whole of herincome, which is no mean one. You must collect your friends about you. Our government is not too strong, I can tell you. We must brush up inthe recess. What with Mr. Bertie Tremaine and his friends joining theProtectionists, and the ultra-Radicals wanting, as they always do, something impossible, I see seeds of discomfiture unless they aremet with energy. You stand high, and are well spoken of even by ouropponents. Whether we stand or fall, it is a moment for you to increaseyour personal influence. That is the element now to encourage in yourcareer, because you are not like the old fogies in the cabinet, who, if they go out, will never enter another again. You have a future, andthough you may not be an emperor, you may be what I esteem more, primeminister of this country. "

"You are always so sanguine. "

"Not more sanguine than your sister. Often we have talked of this. Iwish she were here to help us, but I will do my part. At present let usgo to luncheon. "

CHAPTER XCIV

There was a splendid royal yacht, though not one belonging to ourgracious Sovereign, lying in one of Her Majesty's southern ports, andthe yacht was convoyed by a smart frigate. The crews were much ashore, and were very popular, for they spent a great deal of money. Everybodyknew what was the purpose of their bright craft, and every one wasinterested in it. A beautiful Englishwoman had been selected to fill aforeign and brilliant throne occupied by a prince, who had been educatedin our own country, who ever avowed his sympathies with "the inviolateisland of the sage and free. " So in fact there was some basis forthe enthusiasm which was felt on this occasion by the inhabitants ofNethampton. What every one wanted to know was when she would sail. Ah!that was a secret that could hardly be kept for the eight-and-fortyhours preceding her departure, and therefore, one day, with no formalnotice, all the inhabitants of Nethampton were in gala; streets andships dressed out with the flags of all nations; the church bellsringing; and busy little girls running about with huge bouquets. 

At the very instant expected, the special train was signalled, and droveinto the crimson station amid the thunder of artillery, the blare oftrumpets, the beating of drums, and cheers from thousands even louderand longer than the voices of the cannon. Leaning on the arm of herbrother, and attended by the Princess of Montserrat, and the HonourableAdriana Neuchatel, Baron Sergius, the Duke of St. Angelo, the Archbishopof Tyre, and Lord Waldershare, the daughter of William Ferrars, gracious, yet looking as if she were born to empire, received thecongratulatory address of the mayor and corporation and citizensof Nethampton, and permitted her hand to be kissed, not only by hisworship, but by at least two aldermen. 

They were on the waters, and the shores of Albion, fast fading away, haddiminished to a speck. It is a melancholy and tender moment, and Myrawas in her ample and splendid cabin and alone. "It is a trial, " shefelt, "but all that I love and value in this world are in this vessel, "and she thought of Endymion and Adriana. The gentlemen were on deck, chiefly smoking or reconnoitring their convoy through their telescopes. 

"I must say, " said Waldershare, "it was a grand idea of our kings makingthemselves sovereigns of the sea. The greater portion of this planet iswater; so we at once became a first-rate power. We owe our navy entirelyto the Stuarts. King James the Second was the true founder and hero ofthe British navy. He was the worthy son of his admirable father, thatblessed martyr, the restorer at least, if not the inventor, of shipmoney; the most patriotic and popular tax that ever was devised by man. The Nonconformists thought themselves so wise in resisting it, and theyhave got the naval estimates instead!"

The voyage was propitious, the weather delightful, and when they hadentered the southern waters Waldershare confessed that he felt thedeliciousness of life. If the scene and the impending events, and theirown fair thoughts, had not been adequate to interest them, there wereample resources at their command; all the ladies were skilled musicians, their concerts commenced at sunset, and the sweetness of their voiceslong lingered over the moonlit waters. 

Adriana, one evening, bending over the bulwarks of the yacht, waswatching the track of phosphoric light, struck into brilliancy from thedark blue waters by the prow of their rapid vessel. "It is a fascinatingsight, Miss Neuchatel, and it seems one might gaze on it for ever. "

"Ah! Lord Waldershare, you caught me in a reverie. "

"What more sweet?"

"Well, that depends on its subject. To tell the truth, I was thinkingthat these lights resembled a little your conversation; all the wondrousthings you are always saying or telling us. "

The archbishop was a man who never recurred to the past. One could neversuppose that Endymion and himself had been companions in their earlyyouth, or, so far as their intercourse was concerned, that there wassuch a place in the world as Hurstley. One night, however, as they werepacing the deck together, he took the arm of Endymion, and said, "Itrace the hand of Providence in every incident of your sister's life. What we deemed misfortunes, sorrows, even calamities, were forming acharacter originally endowed with supreme will, and destined for thehighest purposes. There was a moment at Hurstley when I myself wascrushed to the earth, and cared not to live; vain, short-sighted mortal!Our great Master was at that moment shaping everything to His ends, andpreparing for the entrance into His Church of a woman who may be, whowill be, I believe, another St. Helena. "

"We have not spoken of this subject before, " said Endymion, "and Ishould not have cared had our silence continued, but I must now tell youfrankly, the secession of my sister from the Church of her fathers wasto me by no means a matter of unmixed satisfaction. "

"The time will come when you will recognise it as the consummation of aDivine plan, " said the archbishop. 

"I feel great confidence that my sister will never be the slave ofsuperstition, " said Endymion. "Her mind is too masculine for that; shewill remember that the throne she fills has been already once lost bythe fatal influence of the Jesuits. "

"The influence of the Jesuits is the influence of Divine truth, "said his companion. "And how is it possible for such influence not toprevail? What you treat as defeats, discomfitures, are events which youdo not comprehend. They are incidents all leading to one great end--thetriumph of the Church--that is, the triumph of God. "

"I will not decide what are great ends; I am content to ascertain whatis wise conduct. And it would not be wise conduct, in my opinion, forthe King to rest upon the Jesuits. "

"The Jesuits never fell except from conspiracy against them. It is neverthe public voice that demands their expulsion or the public effort thataccomplishes it. It is always the affair of sovereigns and statesmen, ofpoliticians, of men, in short, who feel that there is a power atwork, and that power one not favourable to their schemes or objects ofgovernment. "

"Well, we shall see, " said Endymion; "I candidly tell you, I hope theJesuits will have as little influence in my brother-in-law's kingdom asin my own country. "

"As little!" said Nigel, somewhat sarcastically; "I should be almostcontent if the holy order in every country had as much influence as theynow have in England. "

"I think your Grace exaggerates. "

"Before two years are past, " said the archbishop, speaking very slowly, "I foresee that the Jesuits will be privileged in England, and thehierarchy of our Church recognised. "

It was a delicious afternoon; it had been sultry, but the sun had nowgreatly declined, when the captain of the yacht came down to announce tothe Queen that they were in sight of her new country, and she hastenedon deck to behold the rapidly nearing shore. A squadron of ships of warhad stood out to meet her, and in due time the towers and spires of abeautiful city appeared, which was the port of the capital, and itselfalmost worthy of being one. A royal barge, propelled by four-and-twentyrowers, and bearing the lord chamberlain, awaited the queen, and themoment her Majesty and the Princess of Montserrat had taken their seats, salutes thundered from every ship of war, responded to by fort andbattery ashore. 

When they landed, they were conducted by chief officers of the court toa pavilion which faced the western sky, now glowing like an opal withevery shade of the iris, and then becoming of a light green colourvaried only by some slight clouds burnished with gold. A troop ofmaidens brought flowers as bright as themselves, and then a companyof pages advanced, and kneeling, offered to the Queen chocolate in acrystal cup. 

According to the programme drawn up by the heralds, and every tittle ofit founded on precedents, the King and the royal carriages were to havemet the travellers on their arrival at the metropolis; but there arefeelings which heralds do not comprehend, and which defy precedents. Suddenly there was a shout, a loud cheer, and a louder salute. Some onehad arrived unexpectedly. A young man, stately but pale, moved throughthe swiftly receding crowd, alone and unattended, entered the pavilion, advanced to the Queen, kissed her hand, and then both her cheeks, justmurmuring, "My best beloved, this, this indeed is joy. "

The capital was fortified, and the station was without the walls; herethe royal carriages awaited them. The crowd was immense; the ramparts onthis occasion were covered with people. It was an almost sultry night, with every star visible, and clear and warm and sweet. As the royalcarriage crossed the drawbridge and entered the chief gates, thewhole city was in an instant suddenly illuminated--in a flash. Thearchitectural lines of the city walls, and of every street, wereindicated, and along the ramparts at not distant intervals were tripods, each crowned with a silver flame, which cast around the radiance of day. 

He held and pressed her hand as in silence she beheld the wondrousscene. They had to make a progress of some miles; the way was keptthroughout by soldiery and civic guards, while beyond them was aninfinite population, all cheering and many of them waving torches. Theypassed through many streets, and squares with marvellous fountains, until they arrived at the chief and royal street, which has no equal inthe world. It is more than a mile long, never swerving from a straightline, broad, yet the houses so elevated that they generally furnish theshade this ardent clime requires. The architecture of this street isso varied that it never becomes monotonous, some beautiful church, orpalace, or ministerial hotel perpetually varying the effect. All thewindows were full on this occasion, and even the roofs were crowded. Every house was covered with tapestry, and the line of every buildingwas marked out by artificial light. The moon rose, but she was notwanted; it was as light as day. 

They were considerate enough not to move too rapidly through this heartof the metropolis, and even halted at some stations, where bands ofmusic and choirs of singers welcomed and celebrated them. They movedon more quickly afterwards, made their way through a pretty suburb, and then entered a park. At the termination of a long avenue was theillumined and beautiful palace of the Prince of Montserrat, where Myrawas to reside and repose until the momentous morrow, when King Florestanwas publicly to place on the brow of his affianced bride the crown whichto his joy she had consented to share. 

CHAPTER XCV

There are very few temperaments that can resist an universaland unceasing festival in a vast and beautiful metropolis. It isinebriating, and the most wonderful of all its accidents is how thepopulation can ever calm and recur to the monotony of ordinary life. When all this happens, too, in a capital blessed with purple skies, where the moonlight is equal to our sunshine, and where half thepopulation sleep in the open air and wish for no roof but the heavens, existence is a dream of phantasy and perpetual loveliness, and one isat last forced to believe that there is some miraculous and supernaturalagency that provides the ever-enduring excitement and ceaselessincidents of grace and beauty. 

After the great ceremony of the morrow in the cathedral, and when Myra, kneeling at the altar with her husband, received, under a canopy ofsilver brocade, the blessings of a cardinal and her people, day followedday with court balls and municipal banquets, state visits to operas, andreviews of sumptuous troops. At length the end of all this pageantry andenthusiasm approached, and amid a blaze of fireworks, the picturesquepopulation of this fascinating city tried to return to ordinary feelingand to common sense. 

If amid this graceful hubbub and this glittering riot any one couldhave found time to remark the carriage and conduct of an individual, onemight have observed, and perhaps been surprised at, the change in thoseof Miss Neuchatel. That air of pensive resignation which distinguishedher seemed to have vanished. She never wore that doleful look for whichshe was too remarkable in London saloons, and which marred a countenancefavoured by nature and a form intended for gaiety and grace. Perhaps itwas the influence of the climate, perhaps the excitement of the scene, perhaps some rapture with the wondrous fortunes of the friend whom sheadored, but Adriana seemed suddenly to sympathise with everybody and toappreciate everything; her face was radiant, she was in every dance, and visited churches and museums, and palaces and galleries, with keendelight. With many charms, the intimate friend of their sovereign, and herself known to be noble and immensely rich, Adriana became thefashion, and a crowd of princes were ever watching her smiles, andsometimes offering her their sighs. 

"I think you enjoy our visit more than any one of us, " said Endymion toher one day, with some feeling of surprise. 

"Well, one cannot mope for ever, " said Miss Neuchatel; "I have passed mylife in thinking of one subject, and I feel now it made me very stupid. "

Endymion felt embarrassed, and, though generally ready, had no reparteeat command. Lord Waldershare, however, came to his relief, and claimedAdriana for the impending dance. 

This wondrous marriage was a grand subject for "our own correspondents, "and they abounded. Among them were Jawett and St. Barbe. St. Barbe hatedJawett, as indeed he did all his brethren, but his appointment in thisinstance he denounced as an infamous job. "Merely to allow him totravel in foreign parts, which he has never done, without a singlequalification for the office! However, it will ruin his paper, that issome consolation. Fancy sending here a man who has never used hispen except about those dismal statistics, and what he calls firstprinciples! I hate his style, so neat and frigid. No colour, sir. I hatehis short sentences, like a dog barking; we want a word-painter here, sir. My description of the wedding sold one hundred and fifty thousand, and it is selling now. If the proprietors were gentlemen, they wouldhave sent me an unlimited credit, instead of their paltry fifty poundsa day and my expenses; but you never meet a liberal man now, --no suchanimal known. What I want you to do for me, Lord Waldershare, is to getme invited to the Villa Aurea when the court moves there. It will beprivate life there, and that is the article the British public want now. They are satiated with ceremonies and festivals. They want to know whatthe royal pair have for dinner when they are alone, how they pass theirevenings, and whether the queen drives ponies. "

"So far as I am concerned, " said Waldershare, "they shall remain statesecrets. "

"I have received no special favours here, " rejoined St. Barbe, "though, with my claims, I might have counted on the uttermost. However, it isalways so. I must depend on my own resources. I have a retainer, I cantell you, my lord, from the 'Rigdum Funidos, ' in my pocket, and it is inmy power to keep up such a crackling of jokes and sarcasms that a verydifferent view would soon be entertained in Europe of what is goingon here than is now the fashion. The 'Rigdum Funidos' is on thebreakfast-table of all England, and sells thousands in every capital ofthe world. You do not appreciate its power; you will now feel it. "

"I also am a subscriber to the 'Rigdum Funidos, '" said Waldershare, "and tell you frankly, Mr. St. Barbe, that if I see in its columns theslightest allusion to any persons or incident in this country, I willtake care that you be instantly consigned to the galleys; and, thisbeing a liberal government, I can do that without even the ceremony of aprimary inquiry. "

"You do not mean that?" said St. Barbe; "of course, I was only jesting. It is not likely that I should say or do anything disagreeable to thosewhom I look upon as my patrons--I may say friends--through life. Itmakes me almost weep when I remember my early connection with Mr. Ferrars, now an under-secretary of state, and who will mount higher. Inever had a chance of being a minister, though I suppose I am not moreincapable than others who get the silver spoon into their mouths. Andthen his divine sister! Quite an heroic character! I never had a sister, and so I never had even a chance of being nearly related to royalty. Butso it has been throughout my life. No luck, my lord; no luck. Andthen they say one is misanthropical. Hang it! who can help beingmisanthropical when he finds everybody getting on in life excepthimself?"

The court moved to their favourite summer residence, a Palladian palaceon a blue lake, its banks clothed with forests abounding with everyspecies of game, and beyond them loftier mountains. The king was devotedto sport, and Endymion was always among his companions. Waldersharerather attached himself to the ladies, who made gay parties floating ingondolas, and refreshed themselves with picnics in sylvan retreats. Itwas supposed Lord Waldershare was a great admirer of the Princessof Montserrat, who in return referred to him as that "lovableeccentricity. " As the autumn advanced, parties of guests of highdistinction, carefully arranged, periodically arrived. Now, there wasmore ceremony, and every evening the circle was formed, while the kingand queen exchanged words, and sometimes ideas, with those who wereso fortunate as to be under their roof. Frequently there were dramaticperformances, and sometimes a dance. The Princess of Montserrat wasinvaluable in these scenes; vivacious, imaginative, a consummate mimic, her countenance, though not beautiful, was full of charm. What wasstrange, Adriana took a great fancy to her Highness, and they wereseldom separated. The only cloud for Endymion in this happy life was, that every day the necessity of his return to England was more urgent, and every day the days vanished more quickly. That return to England, once counted by weeks, would soon be counted by hours. He had conferredonce or twice with Waldershare on the subject, who always turnedthe conversation; at last Endymion reminded him that the time of hisdeparture was at hand, and that, originally, it had been agreed theyshould return together. 

"Yes, my dear Ferrars, we did so agree, but the agreement waspermissive, not compulsory. My views are changed. Perhaps I shall neverreturn to England again; I think of being naturalised here. "

The queen was depressed at the prospect of being separated from herbrother. Sometimes she remonstrated with him for his devotion to sportwhich deprived her of his society; frequently in a morning she sent forhim to her boudoir, that they might talk together as in old times. "Theking has invited Lord and Lady Beaumaris to pay us a visit, and theyare coming at once. I had hoped the dear Hainaults might have visited ushere. I think she would have liked it. However, they will certainly passthe winter with us. It is some consolation to me not to lose Adriana. "

"The greatest, " said Endymion, "and she seems so happy here. She seemsquite changed. "

"I hope she is happier, " said the queen, "but I trust she is notchanged. I think her nearly perfection. So pure, even so exalted a mind, joined with so sweet a temper, I have never met. And she is very muchadmired too, I can tell you. The Prince of Arragon would be on his kneesto her to-morrow, if she would only give a single smile. But she smilesenough with the Princess of Montserrat. I heard her the other dayabsolutely in uncontrollable laughter. That is a strange friendship; itamuses me. "

"The princess has immense resource. "

The queen suddenly rose from her seat; her countenance was disturbed. 

"Why do we talk of her, or of any other trifler of the court, when therehangs over us so great a sorrow, Endymion, as our separation? Endymion, my best beloved, " and she threw her arms round his neck, "my heart! mylife! Is it possible that you can leave me, and so miserable as I am?"

"Miserable!"

"Yes! miserable when I think of your position--and even my own. Mine ownhas risen like a palace in a dream, and may vanish like one. But thatwould not be a calamity if you were safe. If I quitted this worldto-morrow, where would you be? It gives me sleepless nights and anxiousdays. If you really loved me as you say, you would save me this. I amhaunted with the perpetual thought that all this glittering prosperitywill vanish as it did with our father. God forbid that, under anycircumstances, it should lead to such an end--but who knows? Fate isterribly stern; ironically just. O Endymion! if you really love me, yourtwin, half of your blood and life, who have laboured for you so much, and thought for you so much, and prayed for you so much--and yet Isometimes feel have done so little--O Endymion! my adored, my ownEndymion, if you wish to preserve my life--if you wish me not only tolive, but really to be happy as I ought to be and could be, but for onedark thought, help me, aid me, save me--you can, and by one single act. "

"One single act!"

"Yes! marry Adriana. "

"Ah!" and he sighed. 

"Yes, Adriana, to whom we both of us owe everything. Were it not forAdriana, you would not be here, you would be nothing, " and she whisperedsome words which made him start, and alternately blush and look pale. 

"Is it possible?" he exclaimed. "My sister, my beloved sister, I havetried to keep my brain cool in many trials. But I feel, as it were, asif life were too much for me. You counsel me to that which we should allrepent. "

"Yes, I know it; you may for a moment think it a sacrifice, but believeme, that is all phantasy. I know you think your heart belongs toanother. I will grant everything, willingly grant everything you couldsay of her. Yes, I admit, she is beautiful, she has many charms, hasbeen to you a faithful friend, you delight in her society; such thingshave happened before to many men, to every man they say they happen, butthat has not prevented them from being wise, and very happy too. Yourpresent position, if you persist in it, is one most perilous. You haveno root in the country; but for an accident you could not maintainthe public position you have nobly gained. As for the great crowningconsummation of your life, which we dreamed over at unhappy Hurstley, which I have sometimes dared to prophesy, that must be surrendered. Thecountry at the best will look upon you only as a reputable adventurerto be endured, even trusted and supported, in some secondary post, but nothing more. I touch on this, for I see it is useless to speak ofmyself and my own fate and feelings; only remember, Endymion, I havenever deceived you. I cannot endure any longer this state of affairs. When in a few days we part, we shall never meet again. And all thedevotion of Myra will end in your destroying her. "

"My own, my beloved Myra, do with me what you like. If ----"

At this moment there was a gentle tap at the door, and the king entered. 

"My angel, " he said, "and you too, my dear Endymion. I have some newsfrom England which I fear may distress you. Lord Montfort is dead. "

CHAPTER XCVI

There was ever, when separated, an uninterrupted correspondence betweenBerengaria and Endymion. They wrote to each other every day, sothat when they met again there was no void in their lives and mutualexperience, and each was acquainted with almost every feeling andincident that had been proved, or had occurred, since they parted. Thestartling news, however, communicated by the king had not previouslyreached Endymion, because he was on the eve of his return to England, and his correspondents had been requested to direct their future lettersto his residence in London. 

His voyage home was an agitated one, and not sanguine or inspiriting. There was a terrible uncertainty in the future. What were the feelingsof Lady Montfort towards himself? Friendly, kind, affectionate, in acertain sense, even devoted, no doubt; but all consistent with a deepand determined friendship which sought and wished for no return moreardent. But now she was free. Yes, but would she again forfeit herfreedom? And if she did, would it not be to attain some great end, probably the great end of her life? Lady Montfort was a woman offar-reaching ambition. In a certain degree, she had married to secureher lofty aims; and yet it was only by her singular energy, and theplayfulness and high spirit of her temperament, that the sacrifice hadnot proved a failure; her success, however, was limited, for the ally onwho she had counted rarely assisted and never sympathised with her. Itwas true she admired and even loved her husband; her vanity, which wasnot slight, was gratified by her conquest of one whom it had seemed noone could subdue, and who apparently placed at her feet all the powerand magnificence which she appreciated. 

Poor Endymion, who loved her passionately, over whom she exercised theinfluence of a divinity, who would do nothing without consulting her, and who was moulded, and who wished to be moulded, by her inspiringwill, was also a shrewd man of the world, and did not permit hissentiment to cloud his perception of life and its doings. He felt thatLady Montfort had fallen from a lofty position, and she was not of atemperament that would quietly brook her fate. Instead of being themistress of castles and palaces, with princely means, and all thesplendid accidents of life at her command, she was now a dowager witha jointure! Still young, with her charms unimpaired, heightened even bythe maturity of her fascinating qualities, would she endure this? Shemight retain her friendship for one who, as his sister ever impressedupon him, had no root in the land, and even that friendship, he feltconscious, must yield much of its entireness and intimacy to theinfluence of new ties; but for their lives ever being joined together, as had sometimes been his wild dreams, his cheek, though alone, burnedwith the consciousness of his folly and self-deception. 

"He is one of our rising statesmen, " whispered the captain of the vesselto a passenger, as Endymion, silent, lonely, and absorbed, walked, aswas his daily custom, the quarterdeck. "I daresay he has a good loadon his mind. Do you know, I would sooner be a captain of a ship than aminister of state?"

Poor Endymion! Yes, he bore his burthen, but it was not secrets of statethat overwhelmed him. If his mind for a moment quitted the contemplationof Lady Montfort, it was only to encounter the recollection of aheart-rending separation from his sister, and his strange and nowperplexing relations with Adriana. 

Lord Montfort had passed the summer, as he had announced, at Princedown, and alone; that is to say, without Lady Montfort. She wrote to himfrequently, and if she omitted doing so for a longer interval thanusual, he would indite to her a little note, always courteous, sometimeseven almost kind, reminding her that her letters amused him, and thatof late they had been rarer than he wished. Lady Montfort herself madeMontfort Castle her home, paying sometimes a visit to her family inthe neighbourhood, and sometimes receiving them and other guests. LordMontfort himself did not live in absolute solitude. He had societyalways at command. He always had a court about him; equerries, andsecretaries, and doctors, and odd and amusing men whom they found outfor him, and who were well pleased to find themselves in hisbeautiful and magnificent Princedown, wandering in woods and parks andpleasaunces, devouring his choice _entrees_, and quaffing his curiouswines. Sometimes he dined with them, sometimes a few dined with him, sometimes he was not seen for weeks; but whether he were visible or not, he was the subject of constant thought and conversation by all under hisroof. 

Lord Montfort, it may be remembered, was a great fisherman. It was theonly sport which retained a hold upon him. The solitude, the charmingscenery, and the requisite skill, combined to please him. He had a lovefor nature, and he gratified it in this pursuit. His domain abounded inthose bright chalky streams which the trout love. He liked to watch themoor-hens, too, and especially a kingfisher. 

Lord Montfort came home late one day after much wading. It had been afine day for anglers, soft and not too bright, and he had been temptedto remain long in the water. He drove home rapidly, but it was in anopen carriage, and when the sun set there was a cold autumnal breeze. He complained at night, and said he had been chilled. There was alwaysa doctor under the roof, who felt his patient's pulse, ordered the usualremedies, and encouraged him. Lord Montfort passed a bad night, and hisphysician in the morning found fever, and feared there were symptoms ofpleurisy. He prescribed accordingly, but summoned from town two greatauthorities. The great authorities did not arrive until the next day. They approved of everything that had been done, but shook their heads. "No immediate danger, but serious. "

Four-and-twenty hours afterwards they inquired of Lord Montfort whetherthey should send for his wife. "On no account whatever, " he replied. "Myorders on this head are absolute. " Nevertheless, they did send forLady Montfort, and as there was even then a telegraph to the north, Berengaria, who departed from her castle instantly, and travelled allnight, arrived in eight-and-forty hours at Princedown. The state of LordMontfort then was critical. 

It was broken to Lord Montfort that his wife had arrived. 

"I perceive then, " he replied, "that I am going to die, because I amdisobeyed. "

These were the last words he uttered. He turned in his bed as it were toconceal his countenance, and expired without a sigh or sound. 

There was not a single person at Princedown in whom Lady Montfort couldconfide. She had summoned the family solicitor, but he could not arriveuntil the next day, and until he came she insisted that none of herlate lord's papers should be touched. She at first thought he had made awill, because otherwise all his property would go to his cousin, whomhe particularly hated, and yet on reflection she could hardly fancyhis making a will. It was a trouble to him--a disagreeable trouble; andthere was nobody she knew whom he would care to benefit. He was not aman who would leave anything to hospitals and charities. Therefore, onthe whole, she arrived at the conclusion he had not made a will, thoughall the guests at Princedown were of a different opinion, and each wascalculating the amount of his own legacy. 

At last the lawyer arrived, and he brought the will with him. It wasvery short, and not very recent. Everything he had in the world exceptthe settled estates, Montfort Castle and Montfort House, he bequeathedto his wife. It was a vast inheritance; not only Princedown, but greataccumulations of personal property, for Lord Montfort was fond ofamassing, and admired the sweet simplicity of the three per cents. 

CHAPTER XCVII

When Endymion arrived in London he found among his letters two briefnotes from Lady Montfort; one hurriedly written at Montfort Castle atthe moment of her departure, and another from Princedown, with thesewords only, "All is over. " More than a week had elapsed since the lastwas written, and he had already learnt from the newspapers that thefuneral had taken place. It was a painful but still necessary duty tofulfil, to write to her, which he did, but he received no answer to hisletter of sympathy, and to a certain degree, of condolence. Time flewon, but he could not venture to write again, and without any absolutecause for his discomfort, he felt harassed and unhappy. He had been soaccustomed all his life to exist under the genial influence of womenthat his present days seemed lone and dark. His sister and Berengaria, two of the most gifted and charming beings in the world, had seemedto agree that their first duty had ever been to sympathise with hisfortunes and to aid them. Even his correspondence with Myra was changed. There was a tone of constraint in their communications; perhaps itwas the great alteration in her position that occasioned it? His heartassured him that such was not the case. He felt deeply and acutely whatwas the cause. The subject most interesting to both of them could not betouched on. And then he thought of Adriana, and contrasted his dull andsolitary home in Hill Street with what it might have been, graced by herpresence, animated by her devotion, and softened by the sweetness of hertemper. 

Endymion began to feel that the run of his good fortune was dried. Hissister, when he had a trouble, would never hear of this; she always heldthat the misery and calamities of their early years had exhausted theinfluence of their evil stars, and apparently she had been right, andperhaps she would have always been right had he not been perverse, andthwarted her in the most important circumstances of his life. 

In this state of mind, there was nothing for him to do but to plungeinto business; and affairs of state are a cure for many cares andsorrows. What are our petty annoyances and griefs when we have to guardthe fortunes and the honour of a nation?

The November cabinets had commenced, and this brought all the chiefsto town, Sidney Wilton among them; and his society was always a greatpleasure to Endymion; the only social pleasure now left to him was alittle dinner at Mr. Wilton's, and little dinners there abounded. Mr. Wilton knew all the persons that he was always thinking about, but whom, it might be noticed, they seemed to agree now rarely to mention. As forthe rest, there was nobody to call upon in the delightful hours betweenofficial duties and dinner. No Lady Roehampton now, no brilliantBerengaria, and not even the gentle Imogene with her welcome smile. He looked in at the Coventry Club, a club of fashion, and also muchfrequented by diplomatists. There were a good many persons there, and aforeign minister immediately buttonholed the Under-Secretary of State. 

"I called at the Foreign Office to-day, " said the foreign minister. "Iassure you it is very pressing. "

"I had the American with me, " said Endymion, "and he is very lengthy. However, as to your business, I think we might talk it over here, andperhaps settle it. " And so they left the room together. 

"I wonder what is going to happen to that gentleman, " said Mr. Ormsby, glancing at Endymion, and speaking to Mr. Cassilis. 

"Why?" replied Mr. Cassilis, "is anything up?"

"Will he marry Lady Montfort?"

"Poh!" said Mr. Cassilis. 

"You may poh!" said Mr. Ormsby, "but he was a great favourite. "

"Lady Montfort will never marry. She had always a poodle, and alwayswill have. She was never so _liee_ with Ferrars as with the Count ofFerroll, and half a dozen others. She must have a slave. "

"A very good mistress with thirty thousand a year. "

"She has not that, " said Mr. Cassilis doubtingly. 

"What do you put Princedown at?" said Mr. Ormsby. 

"That I can tell you to a T, " replied Mr. Cassilis, "for it was offeredto me when old Rambrooke died. You will never get twelve thousand a yearout of it. "

"Well, I will answer for half a million consols, " said Ormsby, "for mylawyer, when he made a little investment for me the other day, saw theentry himself in the bank-books; our names are very near, you know--M, and O. Then there is her jointure, something like ten thousand a year. "

"No, no; not seven. "

"Well, that would do. "

"And what is the amount of your little investment in consols altogether, Ormsby?"

"Well, I believe I top Montfort, " said Mr. Ormsby with a complacentsmile, "but then you know, I am not a swell like you; I have no land. "

"Lady Montfort, thirty thousand a year, " said Mr. Cassilis musingly. "She is only thirty. She is a woman who will set the Thames on fire, but she will never marry. Do you dine to-day, by any chance, with SidneyWilton?"

When Endymion returned home this evening, he found a letter from LadyMontfort. It was a month since he had written to her. He was so nervousthat he absolutely for a moment could not break the seal, and thepalpitation of his heart was almost overpowering. 

Lady Montfort thanked him for his kind letter, which she ought tohave acknowledged before, but she had been very busy--indeed, quiteoverwhelmed with affairs. She wished to see him, but was sorry she couldnot ask him to come down to Princedown, as she was living in completeretirement, only her aunt with her, Lady Gertrude, whom, she believed, he knew. He was aware, probably, how good Lord Montfort had been to her. Sincerely she could say, nothing could have been more unexpected. If shecould have seen her husband before the fatal moment, it would have beena consolation to her. He had always been kind to Endymion; she reallybelieved sometimes that Lord Montfort was even a little attached tohim. She should like Endymion to have some souvenir of her late husband. Would he choose something, or would he leave it to her?

One would rather agree, from the tone of this letter, that Mr. Cassilisknew what he was talking about. It fell rather odd on Endymion's heart, and he passed a night of some disquietude; not one of those nights, exactly, when we feel that the end of the world has at length arrived, and that we are the first victim, but a night when you slumber ratherthan sleep, and wake with the consciousness of some indefinable chagrin. 

This was a dull Christmas for Endymion Ferrars. He passed it, as he hadpassed others, at Gaydene, but what a contrast to the old assembliesthere! Every source of excitement that could make existence absolutelyfascinating seemed then to unite in his happy fate. Entrancing love andthe very romance of domestic affection, and friendships of honourand happiness, and all the charms of an accomplished society, andthe feeling of a noble future, and the present and urgent interest innational affairs--all gone, except some ambition which might tend toconsequences not more successful than those that had ultimately visitedhis house with irreparable calamity. 

The meeting of parliament was a great relief to Endymion. Besides hisoffice, he had now the House of Commons to occupy him. He was neverabsent from his place; no little runnings up to Montfort House or HillStreet just to tell them the authentic news, or snatch a hasty repastwith furtive delight, with persons still more delightful, and flatteringone's self all the time that, so far as absence was concerned, thefleetness of one's gifted brougham horse really made it no differencebetween Mayfair and Bellamy's. 

Endymion had replied, but not very quickly, to Lady Montfort's letter, and he had heard from her again, but her letter requiring no reply, thecorrespondence had dropped. It was the beginning of March when she wroteto him to say, that she was obliged to come to town to see her lawyerand transact some business; that she would be "at papa's in GrosvenorSquare, " though the house was shut up, on a certain day, that she muchwished to see Endymion, and begged him to call on her. 

It was a trying moment when about noon he lifted the knocker toGrosvenor Square. The door was not opened rapidly, and the delay madehim more nervous. He almost wished the door would never open. Hewas shown into a small back room on the ground floor in which was abookcase, and which chamber, in the language of Grosvenor Square, iscalled a library. 

"Her ladyship will see you presently, " said the servant, who had come upfrom Princedown. 

Endymion was standing before the fire, and as nervous as a man couldwell be. He sighed, and he sighed more than once. His breathing wasoppressed; he felt that life was too short to permit us to experiencesuch scenes and situations. He heard the lock of the door move, and itrequired all his manliness to endure it. 

She entered; she was in weeds, but they became her admirably; hercountenance was grave and apparently with an effort to command it. Shedid not move hurriedly, but held out both her hands to Endymion andretained his, and all without speaking. Her lips then seemed to move, when, rather suddenly, withdrawing her right hand, and placing it on hisshoulder and burying her face in her arm, she wept. 

He led her soothingly to a seat, and took a chair by her side. Not aword had yet been spoken by either of them; only a murmur of sympathy onthe part of Endymion. Lady Montfort spoke first. 

"I am weaker than I thought, but it is a great trial. " And then she saidhow sorry she was, that she could not receive him at Princedown; butshe thought it best that he should not go there. "I have a great deal ofbusiness to transact--you would not believe how much. I do not dislikeit, it occupies me, it employs my mind. I have led so active a life, that solitude is rather too much for me. Among other business, I mustbuy a town house, and that is the most difficult of all affairs. Therenever was so great a city with such small houses. I shall feel the lossof Montfort House, though I never used it half so much as I wished. Iwant a mansion; I should think you could help me in this. When I returnto society, I mean to receive. There must be therefore good receptionrooms; if possible, more than good. And now let us talk about ourfriends. Tell me all about your royal sister, and this new marriage;it rather surprised me, but I think it excellent. Ah! you can keepa secret, but you see it is no use having a secret with me. Even insolitude everything reaches me. "

"I assure you most seriously, that I can annex no meaning to what youare saying. "

"Then I can hardly think it true; and yet it came from high authority, and it was not told me as a real secret. "

"A marriage, and whose?"

"Miss Neuchatel's, --Adriana. "

"And to whom?" inquired Endymion, changing colour. 

"To Lord Waldershare. "

"To Lord Waldershare!"

"And has not your sister mentioned it to you?"

"Not a word; it cannot be true. "

"I will give to you my authority, " said Lady Montfort. "Though I camehere in the twilight of a hired brougham, and with a veil, I was caughtbefore I could enter the house by, of all people in the world, Mrs. Rodney. And she told me this in what she called 'real confidence, ' andit was announced to her in a letter from her sister, Lady Beaumaris. They seem all delighted with the match. "

CHAPTER XCVIII

The marriage of Adriana was not an event calculated to calm theuneasy and dissatisfied temperament of Endymion. The past rendered itimpossible that this announcement should not in some degree affect him. Then the silence of his sister on such a subject was too significant;the silence even of Waldershare. Somehow or other, it seemed that allthese once dear and devoted friends stood in different relations to himand to each other from what they once filled. They had become morenear and intimate together, but he seemed without the pale; he, thatEndymion, who once seemed the prime object, if not the centre, of alltheir thoughts and sentiment. And why was this? What was the influencethat had swayed him to a line contrary to what was once their hopes andaffections? Had he an evil genius? And was it she? Horrible thought!

The interview with Lady Montfort had been deeply interesting--had for amoment restored him to himself. Had it not been for this news, he mighthave returned home, soothed, gratified, even again indulging in dreams. But this news had made him ponder; had made him feel what he had lost, and forced him to ask himself what he had gained. 

There was one thing he had gained, and that was the privilege of callingon Lady Montfort the next day. That was a fact that sometimes dissipatedall the shadows. Under the immediate influence of her presence, hebecame spell-bound as of yore, and in the intoxication of her beauty, the brightness of her mind, and her ineffable attraction, he felthe would be content with any lot, provided he might retain her kindthoughts and pass much of his life in her society. 

She was only staying three or four days in town, and was much engagedin the mornings; but Endymion called on her every afternoon, and satetalking with her till dinner-time, and they both dined very late. Ashe really on personal and domestic affairs never could have any reservewith her, he told her, in that complete confidence in which they alwaysindulged, of the extraordinary revelation which his sister had madeto him about the parliamentary qualification. Lady Montfort was deeplyinterested in this; she was even agitated, and looked very grave. 

"I am sorry, " she said, "we know this. Things cannot remain now as theyare. You cannot return the money, that would be churlish; besides, youcannot return all the advantages which it gained for you, and they mustcertainly be considered part of the gift, and the most precious; andthen, too, it would betray what your sister rightly called a 'sacredconfidence. ' And yet something must be done--you must let me think. Donot mention it again. " And then they talked a little of public affairs. Lady Montfort saw no one, and heard from no one now; but judging fromthe journals, she thought the position of the government feeble. "Therecannot be a Protectionist government, " she said; "and yet that is theonly parliamentary party of importance. Things will go on till someblow, and perhaps a slight one, will upset you all. And then who isto succeed? I think some queer _melange_ got up perhaps by Mr. BertieTremaine. "

The last day came. She parted from Endymion with kindness, but notwith tenderness. He was choking with emotion, and tried to imitate hercalmness. 

"Am I to write to you?" he asked in a faltering voice. 

"Of course you are, " she said, "every day, and tell me all the news. "

The Hainaults, and the Beaumaris, and Waldershare, did not return toEngland until some time after Easter. The marriage was to take placein June--Endymion was to be Waldershare's best man. There were manyfestivities, and he was looked upon as an indispensable guest in all. Adriana received his congratulations with animation, but with affection. She thanked him for a bracelet which he had presented to her; "I valueit more, " she said, "than all my other presents together, exceptwhat dear Waldershare has given to me. " Even with that exception, theestimate was high, for never a bride in any land ever received thenumber of splendid offerings which crowded the tables of Lord Hainault'snew palace, which he had just built in Park Lane. There was not aNeuchatel in existence, and they flourished in every community, who didnot send her, at least, a riviere of brilliants. King Florestan andhis queen sent offerings worthy of their resplendent throne and theirinvaluable friendship. But nothing surpassed, nothing approached, the contents of a casket, which, a day before the wedding, arrivedat Hainault House. It came from a foreign land, and Waldersharesuperintended the opening of the case, and the appearance of a casket ofcrimson velvet, with genuine excitement. But when it was opened! Therewas a coronet of brilliants; a necklace of brilliants and emeralds, and all the stones more than precious; gems of Golconda no longerobtainable, and lustrous companions which only could have been createdin the hot earth of Asia. From whom? Not a glimpse of meaning. All thatwas written, in a foreign handwriting on a sheet of notepaper, was, "Forthe Lady Viscountess Waldershare. "

"When the revolution comes, " said Lord Hainault, "Lord Waldershare andmy daughter must turn jewellers. Their stock in trade is ready. "

The correspondence between Lady Montfort and Endymion had resumed itsancient habit. They wrote to each other every day, and one day she toldhim that she had purchased a house, and that she must come up to town toexamine and to furnish it. She probably should be a month in London, and remaining there until the end of the season, in whose amusementsand business, of course, she could not share. She should "be at papa's, "though he and his family were in town; but that was no reason whyEndymion should not call on her. And he came, and called every day. LadyMontfort was full of her new house; it was in Carlton Gardens, the houseshe always wished, always intended to have. There is nothing like will;everybody can do exactly what they like in this world, provided theyreally like it. Sometimes they think they do, but in general, it is amistake. Lady Montfort, it seemed, was a woman who always could do whatshe liked. She could do what she liked with Endymion Ferrars; thatwas quite certain. Supposed by men to have a strong will and a calmjudgment, he was a nose of wax with this woman. He was fascinated byher, and he had been fascinated now for nearly ten years. What would bethe result of this irresistible influence upon him? Would it make ormar those fortunes that once seemed so promising? The philosophersof White's and the Coventry were generally of opinion that he had nochance. 

Lady Montfort was busy every morning with her new house, but she neverasked Endymion to accompany her, though it seemed natural to do so. But he saw her every day, and "papa, " who was a most kind and courtlygentleman, would often ask him, "if he had nothing better to do, " todine there, and he dined there frequently; and if he were engaged, hewas always of opinion that he had nothing better to do. 

At last, however, the season was over; the world had gone to Goodwood, and Lady Montfort was about to depart to Princedown. It was a drearyprospect for Endymion, and he could not conceal his feelings. He couldnot help saying one day, "Do you know, now that you are going I almostwish to die. "

Alas! she only laughed. But he looked grave. "I am very unhappy, " hesighed rather than uttered. 

She looked at him with seriousness. "I do not think our separation needbe very long. Papa and all my family are coming to me in September topay me a very long visit. I really do not see why you should not cometoo. "

Endymion's countenance mantled with rapture. "If I might come, I think Ishould be the happiest of men!"

The month that was to elapse before his visit, Endymion was really, ashe said, the happiest of men; at least, the world thought him so. He seemed to walk upon tip-toe. Parliament was prorogued, office wasconsigned to permanent secretaries, and our youthful statesman seemedonly to live to enjoy, and add to, the revelry of existence. Nowat Cowes, now stalking in the Highlands, dancing at balls in thewilderness, and running races of fantastic feats, full of health, andfrolic, and charm; he was the delight of society, while, the whole time, he had only one thought, and that was the sacred day when he shouldagain see the being whom he adored, and that in her beautiful home, which her presence made more lovely. 

Yes! he was again at Princedown, in the bosom of her family; none othersthere; treated like one of themselves. The courtly father pressed hishand; the amiable and refined mother smiled upon him; the daughters, pretty, and natural as the air, treated him as if they were sisters, andeven the eldest son, who generally hates you, after a little stiffness, announced in a tone never questioned under the family roof, that"Ferrars was a first-rate shot. "

And so a month rolled on; immensely happy, as any man who has loved, and loved in a beautiful scene, alone can understand. One morning LadyMontfort said to him, "I must go up to London about my house. I wantto go and return the same day. Do you know, I think you had better comewith me? You shall give me a luncheon in Hill Street, and we shallbe back by the last train. It will be late, but we shall wake in themorning in the country, and that I always think a great thing. "

And so it happened; they rose early and arrived in town in time to givethem a tolerably long morning. She took him to her house in CarltonGardens, and showed to him exactly how it was all she wanted;accommodation for a first-rate establishment; and then the receptionrooms, few houses in London could compare with them; a gallery and threesaloons. Then they descended to the dining-room. "It is a dining-room, not a banqueting hall, " she said, "which we had at Montfort House, butstill it is much larger than most dining-rooms in London. But, I thinkthis room, at least I hope you do, quite charming, " and she took him toa room almost as large as the dining-room, and looking into the garden. It was fitted up with exquisite taste; calm subdued colouring, withchoice marble busts of statesmen, ancient and of our times, but theshelves were empty. 

"They are empty, " she said, "but the volumes to fill them are alreadycollected. Yes, " she added in a tremulous voice, and slightly pressingthe arm on which she leant. "If you will deign to accept it, this is thechamber I have prepared for you. "

"Dearest of women!" and he took her hand. 

"Yes, " she murmured, "help me to realise the dream of my life;" and shetouched his forehead with her lips. 

CHAPTER XCIX

The marriage of Mr. Ferrars with Lady Montfort surprised some, but, onthe whole, pleased everybody. They were both of them popular, and no oneseemed to envy them their happiness and prosperity. The union took placeat a season of the year when there was no London world to observe and tocriticise. It was a quiet ceremony; they went down to Northumberlandto Lady Montfort's father, and they were married in his private chapel. After that they went off immediately to pay a visit to King Florestanand his queen; Myra had sent her a loving letter. 

"Perhaps it will be the first time that your sister ever saw me withsatisfaction, " remarked Lady Montfort, "but I think she will love menow! I always loved her; perhaps because she is so like you. "

It was a happy meeting and a delightful visit. They did not talk much ofthe past. The enormous change in the position of their host and hostesssince the first days of their acquaintance, and, on their own part, someindefinite feeling of delicate reserve, combined to make them ratherdwell on a present which was full of novelty so attractive and soabsorbing. In his manner, the king was unchanged; he was never ademonstrative person, but simple, unaffected, rather silent; with asweet temper and a tender manner, he seemed to be gratified that he hadthe power of conferring happiness on those around him. His feeling tohis queen was one of idolatry, and she received Berengaria as a sisterand a much-loved one. Their presence and the season of the year madetheir life a festival, and when they parted, there were entreaties andpromises that the visit should be often repeated. 

"Adieu! my Endymion, " said Myra at the last moment they were alone. "Allhas happened for you beyond my hopes; all now is safe. I might wish wewere in the same land, but not if I lost my husband, whom I adore. "

The reason that forced them to curtail their royal visit was the stateof politics at home, which had suddenly become critical. There weresymptoms, and considerable ones, of disturbance and danger whenthey departed for their wedding tour, but they could not prevail onthemselves to sacrifice a visit on which they had counted so much, and which could not be fulfilled on another occasion under the sameinteresting circumstances. Besides, the position of Mr. Ferrars, thoughan important, was a subordinate one, and though cabinet ministers werenot justified in leaving the country, an under-secretary of state anda bridegroom might, it would seem, depart on his irresponsible holiday. Mr. Sidney Wilton, however, shook his head; "I do not like the state ofaffairs, " he said, "I think you will have to come back sooner than youimagine. "

"You are not going to be so foolish as to have an early session?"inquired Lady Montfort. 

He only shrugged his shoulders, and said, "We are in a mess. "

What mess? and what was the state of affairs?

This had happened. At the end of the autumn, his Holiness the Pope hadmade half a dozen new cardinals, and to the surprise of the world, andthe murmurs of the Italians, there appeared among them the name of anEnglishman, Nigel Penruddock, archbishop _in partibus_. Shortly afterthis, a papal bull, "given at St. Peter's, Rome, under the seal of thefisherman, " was issued, establishing a Romish hierarchy in England. Thiswas soon followed by a pastoral letter by the new cardinal "given out ofthe Appian Gate, " announcing that "Catholic England had been restored toits orbit in the ecclesiastical firmament. "

The country at first was more stupefied than alarmed. It was consciousthat something extraordinary had happened, and some great action takenby an ecclesiastical power, which from tradition it was ever inclined toview with suspicion and some fear. But it held its breath for a while. It so happened that the prime minister was a member of a great housewhich had become illustrious by its profession of Protestant principles, and even by its sufferings in a cause which England had once lookedon as sacred. The prime minister, a man of distinguished ability, not devoid even of genius, was also a wily politician, and of almostunrivalled experience in the management of political parties. Theministry was weak and nearly worn out, and its chief, influenced partlyby noble and historical sentiments, partly by a conviction that he hada fine occasion to rally the confidence of the country round himselfand his friends, and to restore the repute of his political connection, thought fit, without consulting his colleagues, to publish a manifestodenouncing the aggression of the Pope upon our Protestantism as insolentand insidious, and as expressing a pretension of supremacy over therealm of England which made the minister indignant. 

A confused public wanted to be led, and now they were led. Theysprang to their feet like an armed man. The corporation of London, theuniversities of Oxford and Cambridge had audiences of the Queen; thecounties met, the municipalities memorialised; before the first ofJanuary there had been held nearly seven thousand public meetings, asserting the supremacy of the Queen and calling on Her Majesty'sGovernment to vindicate it by stringent measures. 

Unfortunately, it was soon discovered by the minister that there hadbeen nothing illegal in the conduct of the Pope or the Cardinal, anda considerable portion of the Liberal party began to express theinconvenient opinion, that the manifesto of their chief was opposedto those principles of civil and religious liberty of which he was thehereditary champion. Some influential members of his own cabinet didnot conceal their disapprobation of a step on which they had not beenconsulted. 

Immediately after Christmas, Endymion and Lady Montfort settled inLondon. She was anxious to open her new mansion as soon as parliamentmet, and to organise continuous receptions. She looked upon the ministryas in a critical state, and thought it was an occasion when socialinfluences might not inconsiderably assist them. 

But though she exhibited for this object her wonted energy and highspirit, a fine observer--Mr. Sidney Wilton, for example--might havedetected a change in the manner of Berengaria. Though the strength ofher character was unaltered, there was an absence of that restlessness, it might be said, that somewhat feverish excitement, from which formerlyshe was not always free. The truth is, her heart was satisfied, and thatbrought repose. Feelings of affection, long mortified and pent up, werenow lavished and concentrated on a husband of her heart and adoration, and she was proud that his success and greatness might be avowed as theobjects of her life. 

The campaign, however, for which such preparations were made, endedalmost before it began. The ministry, on the meeting of parliament, found themselves with a discontented House of Commons, and discordantcounsels among themselves. The anti-papal manifesto was the secret causeof this evil state, but the prime minister, to avoid such a mortifyingadmission, took advantage of two unfavourable divisions on othermatters, and resigned. 

Here was a crisis--another crisis! Could the untried Protectionists, without men, form an administration? It was whispered that Lord Derbyhad been sent for, and declined the attempt. Then there was anotherrumour, that he was going to try. Mr. Bertie Tremaine looked mysterious. The time for the third party had clearly arrived. It was known that hehad the list of the next ministry in his breast-pocket, but it was onlyshown to Mr. Tremaine Bertie, who confided in secrecy to the initiatedthat it was the strongest government since "All the Talents. "

Notwithstanding this great opportunity, "All the Talents" were notsummoned. The leader of the Protectionists renounced the attempt indespair, and the author of the anti-papal manifesto was again sentfor, and obliged to introduce the measure which had already destroyed agovernment and disorganised a party. 

"Sidney Wilton, " said Lady Montfort to her husband, "says that they arein the mud, and he for one will not go back--but he will go. I know him. He is too soft-hearted to stand an appeal from colleagues in distress. But were I you, Endymion, I would not return. I think you want a littlerest, or you have got a great deal of private business to attend to, or something of that kind. Nobody notices the withdrawal of anunder-secretary except those in office. There is no necessity why youshould be in the mud. I will continue to receive, and do everythingthat is possible for our friends, but I think my husband has been anunder-secretary long enough. "

Endymion quite agreed with his wife. The minister offered him prefermentand the Privy Council, but Lady Montfort said it was really not soimportant as the office he had resigned. She was resolved that he shouldnot return to them, and she had her way. Ferrars himself now occupied arather peculiar position, being the master of a great fortune and of anestablishment which was the headquarters of the party of which he wasnow only a private member; but, calm and collected, he did not lose hishead; always said and did the right thing, and never forgot his earlyacquaintances. Trenchard was his bosom political friend. Seymour Hicks, who, through Endymion's kindness, had now got into the Treasury, andwas quite fashionable, had the run of the House, and made himselfmarvellously useful, while St. Barbe, who had become by mistake a memberof the Conservative Club, drank his frequent claret cup every Saturdayevening at Lady Montfort's receptions with many pledges to the welfareof the Liberal administration. 

The flag of the Tory party waved over the magnificent mansion of whichImogene Beaumaris was the graceful life. As parties were nearly equal, and the ministry was supposed to be in decay, the rival reception was aswell attended as that of Berengaria. The two great leaders were friends, intimate, but not perhaps quite so intimate as a few years before. "LadyMontfort is very kind to me, " Imogene would say, "but I do not thinkshe now quite remembers we are cousins. " Both Lord and Lady Waldershareseemed equally devoted to Lady Beaumaris. "I do not think, " he wouldsay, "that I shall ever get Adriana to receive. It is an organic gift, and very rare. What I mean to do is to have a first-rate villa and givethe party strawberries. I always say Adriana is like Nell Gwyn, and sheshall go about with a pottle. One never sees a pottle of strawberriesnow. I believe they went out, like all good things, with the Stuarts. "

And so, after all these considerable events, the season rolled on andclosed tranquilly. Lord and Lady Hainault continued to give banquets, over which the hostess sighed; Sir Peter Vigo had the wisdom to retainhis millions, which few manage to do, as it is admitted that it iseasier to make a fortune than to keep one. Mrs. Rodney, supremelyhabited, still drove her ponies, looking younger and prettier than ever, and getting more fashionable every day, and Mr. Ferrars and Berengaria, Countess of Montfort, retired in the summer to their beautiful andbeloved Princedown. 

CHAPTER C

Although the past life of Endymion had, on the whole, been a happy life, and although he was destined also to a happy future, perhaps the fouryears which elapsed from the time he quitted office, certainly in hisexperience had never been exceeded, and it was difficult to imaginecould be exceeded, in felicity. He had a great interest, and evengrowing influence in public life without any of its cares; he wasunited to a woman whom he had long passionately loved, and who had everyquality and a fortune which secured him all those advantages which areappreciated by men of taste and generosity. He became a father, and afamily name which had been originally borne by a courtier of the elderStuarts was now bestowed on the future lord of Princedown. 

Lady Montfort herself had no thought but her husband. His happiness, hisenjoyment of existence, his success and power in life, entirely absorbedher. The anxiety which she felt that in everything he should be masterwas touching. Once looked upon as the most imperious of women, she wouldnot give a direction on any matter without his opinion and sanction. Onewould have supposed from what might be observed under their roof, thatshe was some beautiful but portionless maiden whom Endymion had raisedto wealth and power. 

All this time, however, Lady Montfort sedulously maintained thatcommanding position in social politics for which she was singularlyfitted. Indeed, in that respect, she had no rival. She received theworld with the same constancy and splendour, as if she were the wife ofa minister. Animated by Waldershare, Lady Beaumaris maintained in thisrespect a certain degree of rivalry. She was the only hope and refuge ofthe Tories, and rich, attractive, and popular, her competition could notbe disregarded. But Lord Beaumaris was a little freakish. Sometimes hewould sail in his yacht to odd places, and was at Algiers or in Egyptwhen, according to Tadpole, he ought to have been at Piccadilly Terrace. Then he occasionally got crusty about his hunting. He would hunt, whatever were the political consequences, but whether he were in Africaor Leicestershire, Imogene must be with him. He could not exist withouther constant presence. There was something in her gentleness, combinedwith her quick and ready sympathy and playfulness of mind and manner, which alike pleased and soothed his life. 

The Whigs tottered on for a year after the rude assault of CardinalPenruddock, but they were doomed, and the Protectionists were calledupon to form an administration. As they had no one in their ranks whohad ever been in office except their chief, who was in the House ofLords, the affair seemed impossible. The attempt, however, could not beavoided. A dozen men, without the slightest experience of official life, had to be sworn in as privy councillors, before even they could receivethe seals and insignia of their intended offices. On their knees, according to the constitutional custom, a dozen men, all in the actof genuflexion at the same moment, and headed, too, by one of the mostpowerful peers in the country, the Lord of Alnwick Castle himself, humbled themselves before a female Sovereign, who looked serene andimperturbable before a spectacle never seen before, and which, in allprobability, will never be seen again. 

One of this band, a gentleman without any official experience whatever, was not only placed in the cabinet, but was absolutely required tobecome the leader of the House of Commons, which had never occurredbefore, except in the instance of Mr. Pitt in 1782. It has been saidthat it was unwise in the Protectionists assuming office when, on thisoccasion and on subsequent ones, they were far from being certain ofa majority in the House of Commons. It should, however, be remembered, that unless they had dared these ventures, they never could have formeda body of men competent, from their official experience and theirpractice in debate, to form a ministry. The result has rather provedthat they were right. Had they continued to refrain from incurringresponsibility, they must have broken up and merged in differentconnections, which, for a party numerically so strong as theProtectionists, would have been a sorry business, and probably have ledto disastrous results. 

Mr. Bertie Tremaine having been requested to call on the Protectionistprime minister, accordingly repaired to headquarters with the listof his colleagues in his pocket. He was offered for himself a post oflittle real importance, but which secured to him the dignity of theprivy council. Mr. Tremaine Bertie and several of his friends hadassembled at his house, awaiting with anxiety his return. He had tocommunicate to them that he had been offered a privy councillor's post, and to break to them that it was not proposed to provide for any othermember of his party. Their indignation was extreme; but they naturallysupposed that he had rejected the offer to himself with becoming scorn. Their leader, however, informed them that he had not felt it his dutyto be so peremptory. They should remember that the recognition of theirpolitical status by such an offer to their chief was a considerableevent. For his part, he had for some time been painfully aware that theinfluence of the House of Commons in the constitutional scheme was fastwaning, and that the plan of Sir William Temple for the reorganisationof the privy council, and depositing in it the real authority of theState, was that to which we should be obliged to have recourse. Thisoffer to him of a seat in the council was, perhaps, the beginning ofthe end. It was a crisis; they must look to seats in the privy council, which, under Sir William Temple's plan, would be accompanied withministerial duties and salaries. What they had all, at one time, wished, had not exactly been accomplished, but he had felt it his duty tohis friends not to shrink from responsibility. So he had accepted theminister's offer. 

Mr. Bertie Tremaine was not long in the busy enjoyment of his easy post. Then the country was governed for two years by all its ablest men, who, by the end of that term, had succeeded, by their coalesced genius, inreducing that country to a state of desolation and despair. "I did notthink it would have lasted even so long, " said Lady Montfort; "but thenI was acquainted with their mutual hatreds and their characteristicweaknesses. What is to happen now? Somebody must be found of commandingprivate character and position, and with as little damaged a public oneas in this wreck of reputations is possible. I see nobody but SidneyWilton. Everybody likes him, and he is the only man who could bringpeople together. "

And everybody seemed to be saying the same thing at the same time. Thename of Sidney Wilton was in everybody's mouth. It was unfortunate thathe had been a member of a defunct ministry, but then it had always beenunderstood that he had always disapproved of all their measures. Therewas not the slightest evidence of this, but everybody chose to believeit. 

Sidney Wilton was chagrined with life, and had become a martyr to thegout, which that chagrin had aggravated; but he was a great gentleman, and too chivalric to refuse a royal command when the Sovereign wasin distress. Sidney Wilton became Premier, and the first colleaguehe recommended to fill the most important post after his own, theSecretaryship of State for Foreign Affairs, was Mr. Ferrars. 

"It ought to last ten years, " said Lady Montfort. "I see no dangerexcept his health. I never knew a man so changed. At his time of lifefive years ought to make no difference in a man. I cannot believe heis the person who used to give us those charming parties at Gaydene. Whatever you may say, Endymion, I feel convinced that something musthave passed between your sister and him. Neither of them ever gave me ahint of such a matter, or of the possibility of its ever happening, butfeminine instinct assures me that something took place. He always hadthe gout, and his ancestors have had the gout for a couple of centuries;and all prime ministers have the gout. I dare say you will not escape, darling, but I hope it will never make you look as if you had just lostparadise, or, what would be worst, become the last man. "

Lady Montfort was right. The ministry was strong and it was popular. There were no jealousies in it; every member was devoted to his chief, and felt that he was rightly the chief, whereas, as Lady Montfort said, the Whigs never had a ministry before in which there were not at least acouple of men who had been prime ministers, and as many more who thoughtthey ought to be. 

There were years of war, and of vast and critical negotiations. Ferrarswas equal to the duties, for he had much experience, and more thought, and he was greatly aided by the knowledge of affairs, and the clear andtranquil judgment of the chief minister. There was only one subject onwhich there was not between them that complete and cordial unanimitywhich was so agreeable and satisfactory. And even in this case, therewas no difference of opinion, but rather of sentiment and feeling. It was when Prince Florestan expressed his desire to join thegrand alliance, and become our active military ally. It was perhapsimpossible, under any circumstances, for the Powers to refuse suchan offer, but Endymion was strongly in favour of accepting it. Itconsolidated our interests in a part of Europe where we requiredsympathy and support, and it secured for us the aid and influence of thegreat Liberal party of the continent as distinguished from the secretsocieties and the socialist republicans. The Count of Ferroll, also, whose opinion weighed much with Her Majesty's Government, was decidedlyin favour of the combination. The English prime minister listened totheir representations frigidly; it was difficult to refute the argumentswhich were adverse to his own feelings, and to resist the unanimousopinion not only of his colleagues, but of our allies. But he was coldand silent, or made discouraging remarks. 

"Can you trust him?" he would say. "Remember he himself has been, andstill is, a member of the very secret societies whose baneful influencewe are now told he will neutralise or subdue. Whatever the cabinetdecides, and I fear that with this strong expression of opinion on thepart of our allies we have little option left, remember I gave you mywarning. I know the gentleman, and I do not trust him. "

After this, the prime minister had a most severe attack of the gout, remained for weeks at Gaydene, and saw no one on business exceptEndymion and Baron Sergius. 

While the time is elapsing which can alone decide whether the distrustof Mr. Wilton were well-founded or the reverse, let us see how the worldis treating the rest of our friends. 

Lord Waldershare did not make such a pattern husband as Endymion, buthe made a much better one than the world ever supposed he would. Had hemarried Berengaria, the failure would have been great; but he was unitedto a being capable of deep affection and very sensitive, yet gratefulfor kindness from a husband to a degree not easily imaginable. AndWaldershare had really a good heart, though a bad temper, and he wasa gentleman. Besides, he had a great admiration and some awe of hisfather-in-law, and Lord Hainault, with his good-natured irony, andconsummate knowledge of men and things, quite controlled him. WithLady Hainault he was a favourite. He invented plausible theories andbrilliant paradoxes for her, which left her always in a state of charmedwonder, and when she met him again, and adopted or refuted them, for herintellectual power was considerable, he furnished her with fresh dogmasand tenets, which immediately interested her intelligence, though shegenerally forgot to observe that they were contrary to the views andprinciples of the last visit. Between Adriana and Imogene there wasa close alliance, and Lady Beaumaris did everything in her power todevelop Lady Waldershare advantageously before her husband; and so, not forgetting that Waldershare, with his romance, and imagination, andfancy, and taste, and caprice, had a considerable element of worldlinessin his character, and that he liked to feel that, from living inlodgings, he had become a Monte Cristo, his union with Adriana may besaid to be a happy and successful one. 

The friendship between Sir Peter Vigo and his brother M. P. , Mr. Rodney, never diminished, and Mr. Rodney became richer every year. Heexperienced considerable remorse at sitting in opposition to the sonof his right honourable friend, the late William Pitt Ferrars, andfrequently consulted Sir Peter on his embarrassment and difficulty. SirPeter, who never declined arranging any difficulty, told his friendto be easy, and that he, Sir Peter, saw his way. It became graduallyunderstood, that if ever the government was in difficulties, Mr. Rodney's vote might be counted on. He was peculiarly situated, for, in acertain sense, his friend the Right Honourable William Pitt Ferrars hadentrusted the guardianship of his child to his care. But whenever theministry was not in danger, the ministry must not depend upon his vote. 

Trenchard had become Secretary of the Treasury in the Wiltonadministration, had established his reputation, and was looked upon asa future minister. Jawett, without forfeiting his post and promotionat Somerset House, had become the editor of a new periodical magazine, called the "Privy Council. " It was established and maintained by Mr. Bertie Tremaine, and was chiefly written by that gentleman himself. Itwas full of Greek quotations, to show that it was not Grub Street, andwritten in a style as like that of Sir William Temple, as a paper in"Rejected Addresses" might resemble the classic lucubrations of thestatesman-sage who, it is hoped, will be always remembered by a gratefulcountry for having introduced into these islands the Moor Park apricot. What the pages of the "Privy Council" meant no human being had theslightest conception except Mr. Tremaine Bertie. 

Mr. Thornberry remained a respected member of the cabinet. It wasthought his presence there secured the sympathies of advanced Liberalismthroughout the country; but that was a tradition rather than a fact. Statesmen in high places are not always so well acquainted with thechanges and gradations of opinion in political parties at home as theyare with those abroad. We hardly mark the growth of the tree we seeevery day. Mr. Thornberry had long ceased to be popular with his formerfriends, and the fact that he had become a minister was one of thecauses of this change of feeling. That was unreasonable, but in politicsunreasonable circumstances are elements of the problem to be solved. It was generally understood that, on the next election, Mr. Thornberrywould have to look out for another seat; his chief constituents, thosewho are locally styled the leaders of the party, were still faithful tohim, for they were proud of having a cabinet minister for their member, to be presented by him at court, and occasionally to dine with him; butthe "masses, " who do not go to court, and are never asked to dinner, required a member who would represent their whims, and it was quiteunderstood that, on the very first occasion, this enlightened communityhad resolved to send up to Westminster--Mr. Enoch Craggs. 

It is difficult to say, whether in his private life Job found affairsaltogether more satisfactory than in his public. His wife had joined theRoman Communion. An ingrained perverseness which prevented his sonfrom ever willingly following the advice or example of his parents, hadpreserved John Hampden in the Anglican faith, but he had portraits ofLaud and Strafford over his mantelpiece, and embossed in golden letterson a purple ground the magical word "THOROUGH. " His library chieflyconsisted of the "Tracts for the Times, " and a colossal edition ofthe Fathers gorgeously bound. He was a very clever fellow, this youngThornberry, a natural orator, and was leader of the High Church party inthe Oxford Union. He brought home his friends occasionally to Hurstley, and Job had the opportunity of becoming acquainted with a class andschool of humanity--with which, notwithstanding his considerableexperience of life, he had no previous knowledge--young gentlemen, apparently half-starved and dressed like priests, and sometimes anenthusiastic young noble, in much better physical condition, and incostume becoming a cavalier, ready to raise the royal standard atEdgehill. What a little annoyed Job was that his son always addressedhim as "Squire, " a habit even pedantically followed by his companions. He was, however, justly entitled to this ancient and reputable honour, for Job had been persuaded to purchase Hurstley, was a lord of severalthousand acres, and had the boar's head carried in procession atChristmas in his ancient hall. It is strange, but he was ratherperplexed than annoyed by all these marvellous metamorphoses in his lifeand family. His intelligence was as clear as ever, and his views on allsubjects unchanged; but he was, like many other men, governed at home byhis affections. He preferred the new arrangement, if his wife andfamily were happy and contented, to a domestic system founded on his ownprinciples, accompanied by a sullen or shrewish partner of his own lifeand rebellious offspring. 

What really vexed him, among comparatively lesser matters, wasthe extraordinary passion which in time his son exhibited forgame-preserving. He did at last interfere on this matter, but in vain. John Hampden announced that he did not value land if he was only to lookat it, and that sport was the patriotic pastime of an English gentleman. "You used in old days never to be satisfied with what I got out of theland, " said the old grandfather to Job, with a little amiable malice;"there is enough, at any rate now for the hares and rabbits, but I doubtfor anybody else. "

We must not forget our old friend St. Barbe. Whether he had writtenhimself out or had become lazy in the luxurious life in which he nowindulged, he rarely appealed to the literary public, which still admiredhim. He was, by way of intimating that he was engaged in a great work, which, though written in his taking prose, was to be really the epogeeof social life in this country. Dining out every day, and ever arriving, however late, at those "small and earlies, " which he once despised;he gave to his friends frequent intimations that he was not there forpleasure, but rather following his profession; he was in his studio, observing and reflecting on all the passions and manners of mankind, andgathering materials for the great work which was eventually to enchantand instruct society, and immortalise his name. 

"The fact is, I wrote too early, " he would say. "I blush when I read myown books, though compared with those of the brethren, they might stillbe looked on as classics. They say no artist can draw a camel, and I sayno author ever drew a gentleman. How can they, with no opportunity ofever seeing one? And so with a little caricature of manners, whichthey catch second-hand, they are obliged to have recourse to outrageousnonsense, as if polished life consisted only of bigamists, and thatladies of fashion were in the habit of paying black mail to returnedconvicts. However, I shall put an end to all this. I have now got thematerials, or am accumulating them daily. You hint that I give myself uptoo much to society. You are talking of things you do not understand. Adinner party is a chapter. I catch the Cynthia of the minute, sir, ata _soiree_. If I only served a grateful country, I should be in theproudest position of any of its sons; if I had been born in any countrybut this, I should have been decorated, and perhaps made secretary ofstate like Addison, who did not write as well as I do, though his stylesomewhat resembles mine. "

Notwithstanding these great plans, it came in time to Endymion's ear, that poor St. Barbe was in terrible straits. Endymion delicately helpedhim and then obtained for him a pension, and not an inconsiderable one. Relieved from anxiety, St. Barbe resumed his ancient and natural vein. He passed his days in decrying his friend and patron, and comparing hismiserable pension with the salary of a secretary of state, who, sofar as his experience went, was generally a second-rate man. Endymion, though he knew St. Barbe was always decrying him, only smiled, andlooked upon it all as the necessary consequence of his organisation, which involved a singular combination of vanity and envy in thehighest degree. St. Barbe was not less a guest in Carlton Terrace thanheretofore, and was even kindly invited to Princedown to profit by thedistant sea-breeze. Lady Montfort, whose ears some of his pranks hadreached, was not so tolerant as her husband. She gave him one day herviews of his conduct. St. Barbe was always a little afraid of her, and on this occasion entirely lost himself; vented the most solemnaffirmations that there was not a grain of truth in these charges;that he was the victim, as he had been all his life, of slander andcalumny--the sheer creatures of envy, and then began to fawn upon hishostess, and declared that he had ever thought there was somethinggodlike in the character of her husband. 

"And what is there in yours, Mr. St. Barbe?" asked Lady Montfort. 

The ministry had lasted several years; its foreign policy had beensuccessful; it had triumphed in war and secured peace. The militaryconduct of the troops of King Florestan had contributed to theseresults, and the popularity of that sovereign in England was for aforeigner unexampled. During this agitated interval, Endymion and Myrahad met more than once through the providential medium of those favouredspots of nature--German baths. 

There had arisen a public feeling, that the ally who had served us sowell should be invited to visit again a country wherein he had so longsojourned, and where he was so much appreciated. The only evidence thatthe Prime Minister gave that he was conscious of this feeling was anattack of gout. Endymion himself, though in a difficult and ratherpainful position in this matter, did everything to shield and protecthis chief, but the general sentiment became so strong, sanctioned too, as it was understood, in the highest quarter, that it could no longerbe passed by unnoticed; and, in due time, to the great delight andsatisfaction of the nation, an impending visit from our faithful allyKing Florestan and his beautiful wife, Queen Myra, was authoritativelyannounced. 

Every preparation was made to show them honour. They were the guests ofour Sovereign; but from the palace which they were to inhabit, to thehumblest tenement in the meanest back street, there was only one feelingof gratitude, and regard, and admiration. The English people are themost enthusiastic people in the world; there are other populations whichare more excitable, but there is no nation, when it feels, where thesentiment is so profound and irresistible. 

The hour arrived. The season and the weather were favourable. From theport where they landed to their arrival at the metropolis, the wholecountry seemed poured out into the open air; triumphal arches, a wayof flags and banners, and bits of bunting on every hovel. The King andQueen were received at the metropolitan station by Princes of the blood, and accompanied to the palace, where the great officers of state andthe assembled ministry were gathered together to do them honour. A greatstrain was thrown upon Endymion throughout these proceedings, as thePrime Minister, who had been suffering the whole season, and rarelypresent in his seat in parliament, was, at this moment, in his worstparoxysm. He could not therefore be present at the series of ballsand banquets, and brilliant public functions, which greeted the royalguests. Their visit to the City, when they dined with the Lord Mayor, and to which they drove in royal carriages through a sea of populationtumultuous with devotion, was the most gratifying of all these splendidreceptions, partly from the associations of mysterious power andmagnificence connected with the title and character of LORD MAYOR. The Duke of St. Angelo, the Marquis of Vallombrosa, and the Prince ofMontserrat, quite lost their presence of mind. Even the Princess ofMontserrat, with more quarterings on her own side than any house inEurope, confessed that she trembled when Her Serene Highness courtesiedbefore the Lady Mayoress. Perhaps, however, the most brilliant, the mostfanciful, infinitely the most costly entertainment that was given onthis memorable occasion, was the festival at Hainault. The whole routefrom town to the forest was lined with thousands, perhaps hundredsof thousands, of spectators; a thousand guests were received at thebanquet, and twelve palaces were raised by that true magician, Mr. Benjamin Edgington, in the park, for the countless visitors in theevening. At night the forest was illuminated. Everybody was glad exceptLady Hainault, who sighed, and said, "I have no doubt the Queen wouldhave preferred her own room, and that we should have had a quiet dinner, as in old days, in the little Venetian parlour. "

When Endymion returned home at night, he found a summons to Gaydene; thePrime Minister being, it was feared, in a dangerous state. 

The next day, late in the afternoon, there was a rumour that the PrimeMinister had resigned. Then it was authoritatively contradicted, andthen at night another rumour rose that the minister had resigned, butthat the resignation would not be accepted until after the terminationof the royal visit. The King and Queen had yet to remain a short week. 

The fact is, the resignation had taken place, but it was known onlyto those who then could not have imparted the intelligence. The publicoften conjectures the truth, though it clothes its impression orinformation in the vague shape of a rumour. In four-and-twenty hoursthe great fact was authoritatively announced in all the journals, with leading articles speculating on the successor to the able andaccomplished minister of whose services the Sovereign and the countrywere so unhappily deprived. Would his successor be found in his owncabinet? And then several names were mentioned; Rawchester, to LadyMontfort's disgust. Rawchester was a safe man, and had had muchexperience, which, as with most safe men, probably left him as wiseand able as before he imbibed it. Would there be altogether a change ofparties? Would the Protectionists try again? They were very strong, butalways in a minority, like some great continental powers, who have thefinest army in the world, and yet get always beaten. Would that band ofself-admiring geniuses, who had upset every cabinet with whom they wereever connected, return on the shoulders of the people, as they alwaysdreamed, though they were always the persons of whom the people neverseemed to think?

Lady Montfort was in a state of passive excitement. She was quite pale, and she remained quite pale for hours. She would see no one. She satin Endymion's room, and never spoke, while he continued writing andtransacting his affairs. She thought she was reading the "MorningPost, " but really could not distinguish the advertisements from leadingarticles. 

There was a knock at the library door, and the groom of the chambersbrought in a note for Endymion. He glanced at the handwriting of theaddress, and then opened it, as pale as his wife. Then he read it again, and then he gave it to her. She threw her eyes over it, and then herarms around his neck. 

"Order my brougham at three o'clock. "

CHAPTER CI

Endymion was with his sister. 

"How dear of you to come to me, " she said, "when you cannot have amoment to yourself. "

"Well, you know, " he replied, "it is not like forming a government. Thatis an affair. I have reason to think all my colleagues will remain withme. I shall summon them for this afternoon, and if we agree, affairswill go on as before. I should like to get down to Gaydene to-night. "

"To-night!" said the queen musingly. "We have only one day left, and Iwanted you to do something for me. "

"It shall be done, if possible; I need not say that. "

"It is not difficult to do, if we have time--if we have to-morrowmorning, and early. But if you go to Gaydene you will hardly returnto-night, and I shall lose my chance, --and yet it is to me a businessmost precious. "

"It shall be managed; tell me then. "

"I learnt that Hill Street is not occupied at this moment. I want tovisit the old house with you, before I leave England, probably forever. I have only got the early morn to-morrow, but with a veil and yourbrougham, I think we might depart unobserved, before the crowd begins toassemble. Do you think you could be here at nine o'clock?"

So it was settled, and being hurried, he departed. 

And next morning he was at the palace before nine o'clock; and thequeen, veiled, entered his brougham. There were already some loiterers, but the brother and sister passed through the gates unobserved. 

They reached Hill Street. The queen visited all the principal rooms, andmade many remarks appropriate to many memories. "But, " she said, "itwas not to see these rooms I came, though I was glad to do so, andthe corridor on the second story whence I called out to you when youreturned, and for ever, from Eton, and told you there was bad news. WhatI came for was to see our old nursery, where we lived so long together, and so fondly! Here it is; here we are. All I have desired, all I havedreamed, have come to pass. Darling, beloved of my soul, by all oursorrows, by all our joys, in this scene of our childhood and bygonedays, let me give you my last embrace. "