LOTHAIR

By Benjamin Disraeli

CHAPTER 1

"I remember him a little boy, " said the duchess, "a pretty little boy, but very shy. His mother brought him to us one day. She was a dearfriend of mine; you know she was one of my bridesmaids?"

"And you have never seen him since, mamma?" inquired a married daughter, who looked like the younger sister of her mother. 

"Never; he was an orphan shortly after; I have often reproached myself, but it is so difficult to see boys. Then, he never went to school, butwas brought up in the Highlands with a rather savage uncle; and if heand Bertram had not become friends at Christchurch, I do not well seehow we ever could have known him. "

These remarks were made in the morning-room of Brentham, where themistress of the mansion sat surrounded by her daughters, all occupiedwith various works. One knitted a purse, another adorned a slipper athird emblazoned a page. Beautiful forms in counsel leaned over framesembroidery, while two fair sisters more remote occasionally burst intomelody as they tried the passages of a new air, which had been dedicatedto them in the manuscript of some devoted friend. 

The duchess, one of the greatest heiresses of Britain, singularlybeautify and gifted with native grace, had married in her teens one ofthe wealthiest and most powerful of our nobles, and scarcely order thanherself. Her husband was as distinguished for his appearance and hismanners as his bride, and those who speculate on race were interestedin watching the development of their progeny, who in form and color, andvoice, and manner, and mind, were a reproduction of their parents, who seemed only the elder brother and sister of a gifted circle. Thedaughters with one exception came first, and all met the same fate. After seventeen years of a delicious home they were presented, andimmediately married; and all to personages of high consideration. Afterthe first conquest, this fate seemed as regular as the order of Nature. Then came a son, who was now at Christchurch, and then several others, some at school, and some scarcely out of the nursery. There was onedaughter unmarried, and she was to be presented next season. Thoughthe family likeness was still apparent in Lady Corisande, in generalexpression she differed from her sisters. They were all alike with theirdelicate aquiline noses, bright complexions, short upper lips, and eyesof sunny light. The beauty of Lady Corisande was even more distinguishedand more regular, but whether it were the effect of her dark-brown hairand darker eyes, her countenance had not the lustre of the res, and itsexpression was grave and perhaps pensive. 

The duke, though still young, and naturally of a gay and joyoustemperament, had a high sense of duty, and strong domestic feelings. Hewas never wanting in his public place, and he was fond of his wife andhis children; still more, proud of them. Every day when he looked intothe glass, and gave the last touch to his consummate toilet, he offeredhis grateful thanks to Providence that his family was not unworthy ofhim. 

His grace was accustomed to say that he had only one misfortune, andit was a great one; he had no home. His family had married so manyheiresses, and he, consequently, possessed so many halls and castles, atall of which, periodically, he wished, from a right feeling, to reside, that there was no sacred spot identified with his life in which hisheart, in the bustle and tumult of existence, could take refuge. Brentham was the original seat of his family, and he was evenpassionately fond of it; but it was remarkable how very short a periodof his yearly life was passed under its stately roof. So it was hiscustom always to repair to Brentham the moment the season was over, andhe would exact from his children, that, however short might be the time, they would be his companions under those circumstances. The daughtersloved Brentham, and they loved to please their father; but thesons-in-law, though they were what is called devoted to their wives, and, unusual as it may seem, scarcely less attached to their legalparents, did not fall very easily into this arrangement. The countryin August without sport was unquestionably to them a severe trial:nevertheless, they rarely omitted making their appearance, and, if theydid occasionally vanish, sometimes to Cowes, sometimes to Switzerland, sometimes to Norway, they always wrote to their wives, and alwaysalluded to their immediate or approaching return; and their lettersgracefully contributed to the fund of domestic amusement. 

And yet it would be difficult to find a fairer scene than Brenthamoffered, especially in the lustrous effulgence of a glorious Englishsummer. It was an Italian palace of freestone; vast, ornate, and inscrupulous condition; its spacious and graceful chambers filled withtreasures of art, and rising itself from statued and stately terraces. At their foot spread a gardened domain of considerable extent, brightwith flowers, dim with coverts of rare shrubs, and musical withfountains. Its limit reached a park, with timber such as the midlandcounties only can produce. The fallow deer trooped among its fernysolitudes and gigantic oaks; but, beyond the waters of the broad andwinding lake, the scene became more savage, and the eye caught the darkforms of the red deer on some jutting mount, shrinking with scorn fromcommunion with his gentler brethren. 

CHAPTER 2

Lothair was the little boy whom the duchess remembered. He was aposthumous child, and soon lost a devoted mother. His only relation wasone of his two guardians, a Scotch noble--a Presbyterian and a Whig. This uncle was a widower with some children, but they were girls, and, though Lothair was attached to them, too young to be his companions. Their father was a keen, hard man, honorable and just but with nosoftness of heart or manner. He guarded with precise knowledge and withunceasing vigilance over Lothair's vast inheritance, which was in manycounties and in more than one kingdom; but he educated him in a Highlandhome, and when he had reached boyhood thought fit to send him to theHigh School of Edinburgh. Lothair passed a monotonous, if not a dull, life; but he found occasional solace in the scenes of a wild andbeautiful nature, and delight in all the sports of the field and forest, in which he was early initiated and completely indulged. Although anEnglishman, he was fifteen before he re-visited his country, and thenhis glimpses of England were brief, and to him scarcely satisfactory. Hewas hurried sometimes to vast domains, which he heard were his own; andsometimes whisked to the huge metropolis, where he was shown St. Paul'sand the British-Museum. These visits left a vague impression of bustlewithout kindness and exhaustion without excitement; and he was glad toget back to his glens, to the moor and the mountain-streams. 

His father, in the selection of his guardians, had not contemplatedthis system of education. While he secured by the appointment of hisbrother-in-law, the most competent and trustworthy steward of his son'sfortune, he had depended on another for that influence which shouldmould the character, guide the opinions, and form the tastes of hischild. The other guardian was a clergyman, his father's private tutorand heart-friend; scarcely his parent's senior, but exercising overhim irresistible influence, for he was a man of shining talents andabounding knowledge, brilliant and profound. But unhappily, shortlyafter Lothair became an orphan, this distinguished man seceded from theAnglican communion, and entered the Church of Rome. From this momentthere was war between the guardians. The uncle endeavored to drive hiscolleague from the trust: in this he failed, for the priest would notrenounce his office. The Scotch noble succeeded, however, in making ita fruitless one: he thwarted every suggestion that emanated from theobnoxious quarter; and, indeed, the secret reason of the almost constantresidence of Lothair in Scotland, and of his harsh education, was thefear of his relative, that the moment he crossed the border he might, bysome mysterious process, fall under the influence that his guardian somuch dreaded and detested. 

There was however, a limit to these severe precautions, even beforeLothair should reach his majority. His father had expressed in his willthat his son should be educated at the University of Oxford, and at thesame college of which he had been a member. His uncle was of opinion hecomplied with the spirit of this instruction by sending Lothair to theUniversity of Edinburgh, which would give the last tonic to his moralsystem; and then commenced a celebrated chancery-suit, instituted by theRoman Catholic guardian, in order to enforce a literal compliancewith the educational condition of the will. The uncle looked uponthis movement as a popish plot, and had recourse to every availableallegation and argument to baffle it: but ultimately in vain. With everyprecaution to secure his Protestant principles, and to guard against theinfluence, or even personal interference of his Roman Catholic guardian, the lord-chancellor decided that Lothair should be sent to Christchurch. 

Here Lothair, who had never been favored with a companion of his ownage and station, soon found a congenial one in the heir of Brentham. Inseparable in pastime, not dissociated even in study, sympathizingcompanionship soon ripened into fervent friendship. They lived somuch together that the idea of separation became not only painful butimpossible; and, when vacation arrived, and Brentham was to be visitedby its future lord, what more natural than that it should be arrangedthat Lothair should be a visitor to his domain?

CHAPTER 3

Although Lothair was the possessor of as many palaces and castles as theduke himself, it is curious that his first dinner at Brentham wasalmost his introduction into refined society. He had been a guest at theoccasional banquets of his uncle; but these were festivals of thePicts and Scots; rude plenty and coarse splendor, with noise instead ofconversation, and a tumult of obstructive defendants, who impeded, bytheir want of skill, the very convenience which they were purposed tofacilitate. How different the surrounding scene! A table covered withflowers, bright with fanciful crystal, and porcelain that had belongedto sovereigns, who had given a name to its color or its form. Asfor those present, all seemed grace and gentleness, from the radiantdaughters of the house to the noiseless attendants that anticipated allhis wants, and sometimes seemed to suggest his wishes. 

Lothair sat between two of the married daughters. They addressed himwith so much sympathy that he was quite enchanted. When they asked theirpretty questions and made their sparkling remarks, roses seemed to dropfrom their lips, and sometimes diamonds. It was a rather large party, for the Brentham family were so numerous that they themselves madea festival. There were four married daughters, the duke and twosons-in-law, a clergyman or two, and some ladies and gentlemen who wereseldom absent from this circle, and who, by their useful talents andvarious accomplishments, alleviated the toil or cares of life from whicheven princes are not exempt. 

When the ladies had retired to the duchess's drawing-room, all themarried daughters clustered round their mother. 

"Do you know, mamma, we all think him very, good-looking, " said theyoungest married daughter, the wife of the listless and handsome St. Aldegonde. 

"And not at all shy, " said Lady Montairy, "though reserved. "

"I admire deep-blue eyes with dark lashes, " said the duchess. 

Notwithstanding the decision of Lady Montairy, Lothair was scarcely freefrom embarrassment when he rejoined the ladies; and was so afraid ofstanding alone, or talking only to men, that he was almost on the pointof finding refuge in his dinner-companions, had not he instinctivelyfelt that this would have been a social blunder. But the duchessrelieved him: her gracious glance caught his at the right moment, andshe rose and met him some way as he advanced. The friends had arrivedso late, that Lothair had had only time to make a reverence of ceremonybefore dinner. 

"It is not our first meeting, " said her grace; "but that you cannotremember. "

"Indeed I do, " said Lothair, "and your grace gave me a golden heart. "

"How can you remember such things, " exclaimed the duchess, "which I hadmyself forgotten!"

"I have rather a good memory, " replied Lothair; "and it is not wonderfulthat I should remember this, for it is the only present that ever wasmade me. "

The evenings at Brentham were short, but they were sweet. It was amusical family, without being fanatical on the subject. There was alwaysmusic, but it was not permitted that the guests should be deprived ofother amusements. But music was the basis of the evening's campaigns. The duke himself sometimes took a second; the four married daughterswarbled sweetly; but the great performer was Lady Corisande. When herimpassioned tones sounded, there was a hushed silence in every chamber;otherwise, many things were said and done amid accompanying melodies, that animated without distracting even a whistplayer. The duke himselfrather preferred a game of piquet or cart with Captain Mildmay, and sometimes retired with a troop to a distant, but still visible, apartment, where they played with billiard-balls games which were notbilliards. 

The ladies had retired, the duke had taken his glass of seltzer-water, and had disappeared. The gentry lingered and looked at each other, as ifthey were an assembly of poachers gathering for an expedition, and thenLord St. Aldegonde, tall, fair, and languid, said to Lothair, "do yousmoke?"

"No!"

"I should have thought Bertram would have seduced you by this time. Thenlet us try. Montairy will give you one of his cigarettes, so mild thathis wife never finds him out. "

CHAPTER 4

The breakfast-room at Brentham was very bright. It opened on a gardenof its own, which, at this season, was so glowing, and cultured intopatterns so fanciful and finished, that it had the resemblance of a vastmosaic. The walls of the chamber were covered with bright drawings andsketches of our modern masters, and frames of interesting miniatures, and the meal was served on half a dozen or more round tables, which viedwith each other in grace and merriment; brilliant as a cluster of Greekor Italian republics, instead of a great metropolitan table, likea central government absorbing all the genius and resources of thesociety. 

Every scene In this life at Brentham charmed Lothair, who, though notconscious of being of a particularly gloomy temper, often felt thathe had, somehow or other, hitherto passed through life rarely withpleasure, and never with joy. 

After breakfast the ladies retired to their morning-room, and thegentlemen strolled to the stables, Lord St. Aldegonde lighting a Manillacheroot of enormous length. As Lothair was very fond of horses, thisdelighted him. The stables at Brentham were rather too far from thehouse, but they were magnificent, and the stud worthy of them. It wasnumerous and choice, and, above all it was useful. It could supply, a readier number of capital riding-horses than any stable in England. Brentham was a great riding family. In the summer season the dukedelighted to head a numerous troop, penetrate far into the country, andscamper home to a nine-o'clock dinner. All the ladies of the house werefond and fine horse-women. The mount of one of these riding-parties wasmagical. The dames and damsels vaulted on their barbs, and genets, and thorough-bred hacks, with such airy majesty; they were absolutelyoverwhelming with their bewildering habits and their bewitching hats. 

Every thing was so new in this life at Brentham to Lothair, as wellas so agreeable, that the first days passed by no means rapidly; for, though it sounds strange, time moves with equal slowness whether weexperience many impressions or none. In a new circle every character isa study, and every incident an adventure; and the multiplicity of theimages and emotions restrains the hours. But after a few days, thoughLothair was not less delighted, for he was more so, he was astonishedat the rapidity of time. The life was exactly the same, but equallypleasant; the same charming companions, the same refined festivity, thesame fascinating amusements; but to his dismay Lothair recollected thatnearly a fortnight had elapsed since his arrival. Lord St. Aldegondealso was on the wing; he was obliged to go to Cowes to see a sickfriend, though he considerately left Bertha behind him. The otherson-in-law remained, for he could not tear himself away from his wife. He was so distractedly fond of Lady Montairy that he would onlysmoke cigarettes. Lothair felt it was time to go, and he broke thecircumstance to his friend Bertram. 

These two "old fellows, " as they mutually described each other, couldnot at all agree as to the course to be pursued. Bertram looked uponLothair's suggestion as an act of desertion from himself. At their timeof life, the claims of friendship are paramount. And where could Lothairgo to? And what was there to do? Nowhere, and nothing. Whereas, if hewould remain a little longer, as the duke expected and also the duchess, Bertram would go with him anywhere he liked, and do any thing he chose. So Lothair remained. 

In the evening, seated by Lady Montairy, Lothair observed on hersister's singing, and said, "I never heard any of our great singers, butI cannot believe there is a finer voice in existence. "

"Corisande's is a fine voice, " said Lady Montairy, "but I admire herexpression more than her tone; for there are certainly many finervoices, and some day you will hear them. "

"But I prefer expression, " said Lothair very decidedly. 

"Ah, yes! doubtless, " said Lady Montairy, who was working a purse, "andthat's what we all want, I believe; at least we married daughters, they say. My brother, Granville St. Aldegonde, says we are all too muchalike, and that Bertha St. Aldegonde would be parallel if she had nosisters. "

"I don't at all agree with Lord St. Aldegonde, " said Lothair, withenergy. "I do not think it is possible to have too many relatives likeyou and your sisters. "

Lady Montairy looked up with a smile, but she did not meet a smilingcountenance. He seemed, what is called an earnest young man, this friendof her brother Bertram. 

At this moment the duke sent swift messengers for all: to come, eventhe duchess, to partake in a new game just arrived from Russia, somemiraculous combination of billiard-balls. Some rose directly, somelingering a moment arranging their work, but all were in motion. Corisande was at the piano, and disencumbering herself of some music. Lothair went up to her rather abruptly:

"Your singing, " he said, "is the finest thing I ever heard. I am sohappy that I am not going to leave Brentham to-morrow. There is no placein the world that I think equal to Brentham. "

"And I love it, too, and no other place, " she replied; "and I should bequite happy if I never left it. "

CHAPTER 5

Lord Montairy was passionately devoted to croquet. He flattered himselfthat he was the most accomplished male performer existing. He would havethought absolutely the most accomplished, were it not for the unrivalledfeats of Lady Montairy. She was the queen of croquet. Her sistersalso used the mallet with admirable skill, but not like Georgina. LordMontairy always looked forward to his summer croquet at Brentham. Itwas a great croquet family, the Brentham family; even listless Lord St. Aldegonde would sometimes play, with a cigar never out of his mouth. They did not object to his smoking in the air. On the contrary, "theyrather liked it. " Captain Mildmay, too, was a brilliant hand, and hadwritten a treatise on croquet--the best going. 

There was a great croquet-party one morning at Brentham. Some neighborshad been invited who loved the sport. Mr. Blenkinsop a grave younggentleman, whose countenance never relaxed while he played, and who wasunderstood, to give his mind entirely up to croquet. He was the ownerof the largest estate in the county, and it was thought would have verymuch liked to have allied himself with one of the young ladies of thehouse of Brentham; but these flowers were always plucked so quickly, that his relations with the distinguished circle never grew moreintimate than croquet. He drove over with some fine horses, and severalcases and bags containing instruments and weapons for the fray. Hissister came with him, who had forty thousand pounds, but, they said, insome mysterious manner dependent on his consent to her marriage; andit was added that Mr. Blenkinsop would not allow his sister to marrybecause he would miss her so much in his favorite pastime. There weresome other morning visitors, and one or two young curates in cassocks. 

It seemed to Lothair a game of great deliberation and of more interestthan gayety, though sometimes a cordial cheer, and sometimes a ringinglaugh of amiable derision, notified a signal triumph or a disastrousfailure. But the scene was brilliant: a marvellous lawn, the duchess'sTurkish tent with its rich hangings, and the players themselves, theprettiest of all the spectacle, with their coquettish hats, and theirhalf-veiled and half-revealed under-raiment scarlet and silver, or blueand gold, made up a sparkling and modish scene. 

Lothair, who had left the players for a while, and was regaining thelawn, met the duchess. 

"Your grace is not going to leave us, I hope?" he said, ratheranxiously. 

"For a moment. I have long promised to visit the new dairy; and I thinkthis a good opportunity. "

"I wish I might be your companion, " said Lothair; and, invited, he wasby her grace's side. 

They turned into a winding walk of thick and fragrant shrubs, and, after a while, they approached a dell, surrounded with, high treesthat environed it with perpetual shade; in the centre of the dell wasapparently a Gothic shrine, fair in design and finished in execution, and this was the duchess's new dairy. A pretty sight is a first-ratedairy, with its flooring of fanciful tiles, and its cool and shroudedchambers, its stained windows and its marble slabs, and porcelain pansof cream, and plenteous platters of fantastically-formed butter. 

"Mrs. Woods and her dairy-maids look like a Dutch picture, " said theduchess. "Were you ever in Holland?"

"I have never been anywhere, " said Lothair. 

"You should travel, " said the duchess. 

"I have no wish, " said Lothair. 

"The duke has given me some Coreean fowls, " said the duchess to Mrs. Woods, when they had concluded their visit. "Do you think you could takecare of them for me?"

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

"I should so like to see the aviary, " said Lothair. 

"Well, we will go. "

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

"I wish your grace would do me a great favor, " said Lothair, abruptlybreaking a rather prolonged silence. 

"And what is that?" said the duchess. 

"It is a very great favor, " repeated Lothair. 

"If it be in my power to grant it, its magnitude would only be anadditional recommendation. "

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

The duchess I looked amazed. "Corisande!" she exclaimed. 

"Yes, to Lady Corisande. "

"Corisande, " replied the duchess, after a pause, "has absolutely not yetentered the world. Corisande is a child; and you--you, my dear friend--Iam sure you will pardon me If I say, so--you are not very much olderthan Corisande. "

"I have no wish to enter the world, " said Lothair, with much decision. 

"I am not an enemy to youthful marriages, " said the duchess. "I marriedearly myself, and my children married early; and I am very happy, and Ihope they are; but some experience of society before we settle is mostdesirable, and is one of the conditions, I cannot but believe, of thatfelicity which we all seek. "

"I hate society, " said Lothair. "I would never go out of my domesticcircle, if it were the circle I contemplate. "

"My dear young friend, " said the duchess, "you could hardly have seenenough of society to speak with so much decision. "

"I have seen quite enough of it, " said Lothair. "I went to an eveningparty last season--I came up from Christchurch on purpose for it--andif ever they catch me at another, they shall inflict any penalty theyplease. "

"I fear it was a stupid party, " said the duchess, smiling, and glad toturn, if possible, the conversation into a lighter vein. 

"No, it was a very grand party, I believe, and not exactly stupid--itwas not, that; but I was disgusted with all I saw and all I heard. Itseemed to me a mass of affectation, falsehood, and malignity. "

"Oh! dear, " said the duchess, "how very dreadful! But I did not meanmerely going to parties for society; I meant knowledge of the world, andthat experience which enables us to form sound opinions on the affairsof life. "

"Oh! as for that, " said Lothair, "my, opinions are already formed onevery subject; that is to say, every subject of importance; and, what ismore, they will never change. "

"I could not say that of Corisande, " said the duchess. 

"I think we agree on all the great things, " said Lothair, musingly. "Herchurch views may be a little higher than mine, but I do not anticipateany permanent difficulty on that head. Although my uncle made me go tokirk, I always hated it and always considered myself a churchman. Then, as to churches themselves, she is in favor of building churches, andso am I; and schools--there is no quantity of schools I would notestablish. My opinion is, you cannot have too much education, providedit be founded on a religious basis. I would sooner renounce the whole ofmy inheritance than consent to secular education. "

"I should be sorry to see any education but a religious education, "remarked the duchess. 

"Well, then, " said Lothair, "that is our life, or a great part of it. Tocomplete it, here is that to which I really wish to devote my existence, and in which I instinctively feel Lady Corisande would sympathize withme--the extinction of pauperism. "

"That is a vast subject;" said the duchess. 

"It is the terror of Europe and the disgrace of Britain, " said Lothair;"and I am resolved to grapple with it. It seems to me that pauperism isnot an affair so much of wages as of dwellings. If the working-classeswere properly lodged, at their present rate of wages, they would bericher. They would be healthier and happier at the same cost. I amso convinced of this, that the moment I am master, I shall build twothousand cottages on any estates. I have the designs already. "

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

"I do not think I shall make that mistake, " replied Lothair. "Itconstantly engages my thought. I am wearied of hearing of my wealth, and I am conscious it has never brought me any happiness. I have lived agreat deal alone, dearest duchess, and thought much of these things, butI feel now I should be hardly equal to the effort, unless I had a happyhome to, fall back upon. "

"And you will have a happy home in due time, " said the duchess; "andwith such good and great thoughts you deserve one. But take the adviceof one who loved your mother, and who would extend to you the sameaffection as to her own children; before you take a step which cannot berecalled, see a little more of the world. "

Lothair shook his head. "No, " he said, after a pause. "My idea ofperfect society is being married as I propose, and paying visits toBrentham; and when the visits to Brentham ceased, then I should like youand the duke to pay visits to us. "

"But that would be a fairy-tale, " said the duchess. 

So they walked on in silence. 

Suddenly and abruptly Lothair turned to the duchess and said, "Does yourgrace see objection to my speaking to your daughter?"

"Dear friend, indeed, yes. What you would say would only agitate anddisturb Corisande. Her character is not yet formed, and its futureis perplexing, at least to me, " murmured the mother. "She has not thesimple nature of her sisters. It is a deeper and more complicated mind, and I watch its development with fond, but anxious interest. " Then, ina lighter tone, she added, "You do not know very much of us. Try to knowmore. Everybody under this roof views you with regard, and you are thebrother friend of our eldest son. Wherever we are, you will always finda home; but do not touch again upon this subject, at least at present, for it distresses me. " And then she took his arm, and pressed it, and bythis time they had gained the croquet-ground. 

CHAPTER 6

One of the least known squares in London is Hexham Square, though itis one of the oldest. Not that it is very remote from the throng ofexistence, but it is isolated in a dingy district of silent and decayingstreets. Once it was a favored residence of opulence and power, and itsarchitecture still indicates its former and prouder destiny. But itsnoble mansions are now divided and broken up into separate dwellings, orhave been converted into chambers and offices. Lawyers, andarchitects, and agents, dwell in apartments where the richly-sculpturedchimney-pieces, the carved and gilded pediments over the doors, andsometimes even the painted ceilings, tell a tale of vanished statelinessand splendor. 

A considerable portion of the north side of the square is occupied byone house standing in a courtyard, with iron gates to the thoroughfare. This is Hexham House, and where Lord Hexham lived in the days of thefirst Georges. It is reduced in size since his time, two considerablewings, having been pulled down about sixty years ago, and theirmaterials employed in building some residences of less pretension. But the body of the dwelling-house remains, and the court-yard, thoughreduced in size, has been retained. 

Hexham House has an old oak entrance-hall panelled with delicacy, andwhich has escaped the rifling of speculators in furniture; and out ofit rises a staircase of the same material, of a noble character, adorned occasionally with figures; armorial animals holding shields, andsometimes a grotesque form rising from fruits and flowers, all doubtlessthe work of some famous carver. The staircase led to a corridor, onwhich several doors open, and through one of these, at the moment ofour history, a man, dressed in a dark cassock, and holding a card inhis hand, was entering a spacious chamber, meagrely, but not shabbily, furnished. There was a rich cabinet and a fine picture. In the nextroom, not less spacious, but which had a more inhabited look, a cheerfulfire, tables covered with books and papers, and two individuals busilyat work with their pens; he gave the card to a gentleman who wore alsothe cassock, and who stood before the fire with a book in his hand, andapparently dictating to one of the writers. 

"Impossible!" said the gentleman shaking his head; "I could not even goin, as Monsignore Berwick is with his eminence. "

"But what shall I do?" said the attendant; "his eminence said that whenMr. Giles called he never was to be denied. "

"The monsignore has been here a long time; you must beg Mr. Giles towait. Make him comfortable; give him a newspaper; not the Tablet, theTimes; men like Mr. Giles love reading the advertisements. Or stop, givehim this, his eminence's lecture on geology; it will show him the Churchhas no fear of science. Ah! there's my bell; Mr. Giles will not haveto wait long. " So saying, the gentleman put down his volume anddisappeared, through an antechamber, into a farther apartment. 

It was a library, of moderate dimensions, and yet its well-filledshelves contained all the weapons of learning and controversy which thedeepest and the most active of ecclesiastical champions could require. It was unlike modern libraries, for it was one in which folios greatlypredominated; and they stood in solemn and sometimes magnificent array, for they bore, many of them, on their ancient though costly bindings, the proofs that they had belonged to many a prince and even sovereign ofthe Church. Over the mantel-piece hung a portrait of his holinessPius IX. , and on the table, in the midst of many papers, was an ivorycrucifix. 

The master of the library had risen from his seat when the chiefsecretary entered, and was receiving an obeisance. Above the middleheight, his stature seemed magnified by the attenuation of his form. Itseemed that the soul never had so frail and fragile a tenement. He wasdressed in a dark cassock with a red border, and wore scarlet stockings;and over his cassock a purple tippet, and on his breast a small goldencross. His countenance was naturally of an extreme pallor, though atthis moment slightly flushed with the animation of a deeply-interestingconference. His cheeks were hollow, and his gray eyes seemed sunkinto his clear and noble brow, but they flashed with irresistiblepenetration. Such was Cardinal Grandison. 

"All that I can do is, " said his eminence, when his visitor was, usheredout, and slightly shrugging his shoulders, "is to get it postponed untilI go to Rome, and even then I must not delay my visit. This crossingthe Alps in winter is a trial--but we must never repine; and there isnothing which we must not encounter to prevent incalculable mischief. The publication of the Scotch hierarchy at this moment will destroy thelabors of years. And yet they will not see it! I cannot conceive who isurging them, for I am sure they must have some authority from home. --Youhave something for me, Chidioch, " he added inquiringly, for his keen eyecaught the card. 

"I regret to trouble your eminence when you need repose, but the bearerof this card seems to have been importunate, and to have appealed to, your name and personal orders;" and he gave the cardinal the card. 

"Yes, " said the cardinal, looking at the card with much interest; "thisis a person I must always see. "

And so, in due course, they ushered into the library a gentleman witha crimson and well-stuffed bag, of a composed yet cheerful aspect, whoaddressed the cardinal with respect but without embarrassment, saying, "I am ashamed to trouble your eminence with only mattersof form--absolutely mere matters of form; but I obey, Sir, your owninstructions. "

"It is not for me to depreciate form, " replied the cardinal; "and inbusiness there are no mere matters of form. "

"Merely the wood accounts, " continued the visitor; "they must beapproved by both the guardians or the money cannot be received bythe bankers. Your eminence, you see, has sanctioned the felling, andauthorized the sales, and these are the final accounts, which must besigned before we pay in. "

"Give them to me, " said the cardinal, stretching out both his hands ashe received a mass of paper folios. His eminence resumed his chair, andhastily examined the sheets. "Ah!" he said, "no ordinary felling--itreaches, over seven counties. By-the-by, Bracewood Forest--whatabout the enclosure? I have heard no more of it. " Then, murmuring tohimself--"Grentham Wood--how well I remember Grentham Wood, with hisdear father!"

"If we could sign today, " said the visitor in a tone of professionalcajolery; "time is important. "

"And if shall not be wasted, " replied the cardinal. "But I must lookover the accounts. I doubt not all is quite regular, but I wish to makemyself a little familiar with the scene of action; perhaps to recall thepast, " he added. "You shall have them to-morrow, Mr. Giles. "

"Your eminence will have very different accounts to settle in a shorttime, " said Mr. Giles, smiling. "We are hard at work; it takes three ofour clerks constantly occupied. "

"But you have yet got time. "

"I don't know that, " said Mr. Giles. "The affairs are very large. Andthe mines--they give us the greatest trouble. Our Mr. James Roundell wastwo months in Wales last year about them. It took up the whole of hisvacation. And your eminence must remember that time flies. In less thaneight months he will be of age. "

"Very true, " said the cardinal; "time indeed flies, and so much tobe done! By-the-by, Mr. Giles, have you by any chance heard any thinglately of my child?"

"I have heard of him a good deal of late, for a client of ours, LordMontairy, met him at Brentham this summer, and was a long time therewith him. After that, I hear, he went deer-stalking with some of hisyoung friends; but he is not very fond of Scotland; had rather too muchof it, I suspect; but the truth is, sir, I saw him this very day. "

"Indeed!"

"Some affairs have brought him up to town, and I rather doubt whether hewill return to Oxford--at least, so he talks. "

"Ah! I have never seen him since he was an infant, I might say, " saidthe cardinal. "I suppose I shall see him again, if only when I resign mytrust; but I know not. And yet few things would be more interesting tome than to meet him!"

Mr. Giles seemed moved, for him almost a little embarrassed; he seemedto blush, and then he cleared his throat. "It would be too great aliberty, " said Mr. Giles, "I feel that very much--and yet, if youreminence would condescend, though I hardly suppose it possible, hislordship is really going to do us the honor of dining with us to-day;only a few friends, and if your eminence could make the sacrifice, andit were not an act of too great presumption, to ask your eminence tojoin our party. "

"I never eat and I never drink, " said the cardinal. "I am sorry, to sayI cannot. I like dinner society very much. You see the world, and youhear things which you do not hear otherwise. For a time I presumed toaccept invitations, though I sat with an empty plate, but, though theworld was indulgent to me, I felt that my habits were an embarrassmentto the happier feasters: it was not fair, and so I gave it up. ButI tell you what, Mr. Giles: I shall be in your quarter this evening:perhaps you would permit me to drop in and pay my respects to Mrs. Giles--I have wished to do so before. "

CHAPTER 7

Mr. Giles was a leading partner in the firm of Roundells, Giles, andRoundell, among the most eminent solicitors of Lincoln's Inn. He, inthose days of prolonged maturity, might be described as still a youngman. He had inherited from his father not only a large share in afirst-rate business, but no inconsiderable fortune; and though he had, in her circles, a celebrated wife, he had no children. He was opulentand prosperous, with no cares and anxieties of his own, and lovedhis profession, for which he was peculiarly qualified, being a manof uncommon sagacity, very difficult to deceive, and yet one whosympathized with his clients, who were all personally attached to him, and many of whom were among the distinguished personages of the realm. 

During an important professional visit to Ireland, Mr. Giles had madethe acquaintance of Miss Apollonia Smylie, the niece of an Irish peer;and, though the lady was much admired and courted, had succeeded, aftera time, in inducing her to become the partner of his life. 

Mrs. Giles, or, as she described herself, Mrs. Putney Giles, takingadvantage of a second and territorial Christian name of her husband, was a showy woman; decidedly handsome, unquestionably accomplished, andgifted with energy and enthusiasm which far exceeded even her physicaladvantages. Her principal mission was to destroy the papacy and tosecure Italian unity. Her lesser impulses were to become acquainted withthe aristocracy, and to be herself surrounded by celebrities. Having afine house in Tyburnia, almost as showy as herself, and a husband whowas never so happy as when gratifying her wishes, she did not find itdifficult in a considerable degree to pursue and even accomplish herobjects. The Putney Giles gave a great many dinners, and Mrs. Putneyreceived her world frequently, if not periodically. As they entertainedwith profusion, her well-lighted saloons were considerably attended. These assemblies were never dull; the materials not being ordinary, often startling, sometimes even brilliant, occasionally ratherheterogeneous. For, though being a violent Protestant, and of extremeconservative opinions, her antipapal antipathies and her Italianpredilections frequently involved her with acquaintances not sodistinguished as she deemed herself for devotion to the cause of orderand orthodoxy. It was rumored that the brooding brow of Mazzini had beenobserved in her rooms, and there was no sort of question that she hadthrown herself in ecstatic idolatry at the feet of the hero of Caprera. 

On the morning of the day on which he intended to visit CardinalGrandison, Mr. Giles, in his chambers at Lincoln's Inn, was suddenlyapprised, by a clerk, that an interview with him was sought by a clientno less distinguished than Lothair. 

Although Mr. Giles sat opposite two rows of tin boxes, each of which wasnumbered, and duly inscribed with the name of Lothair and that of theparticular estate to which it referred, Mr. Giles, though he had hadoccasional communications with his client, was personally unacquaintedwith him. He viewed, therefore, with no ordinary curiosity the young manwho was ushered into his room; a shapely youth slightly above the middleheight; of simple, but distinguished mien, with a countenance naturallypale, though somewhat bronzed by a life of air and exercise, and aprofusion of dark-auburn hair. 

And for what could Lothair be calling on Mr. Giles?

It seems that one of Lothair's intimate companions had got into ascrape, and under these circumstances had what is styled "made a friend"of Lothair; that is to say, confided to him his trouble, and asked hisadvice, with a view, when given, of its being followed by an offer ofassistance. 

Lothair, though inexperienced, and very ingenuous, was not devoid ofa certain instinctive perception of men and, things, which rendered itdifficult for him to be an easy prey. His natural disposition, and hiscomparatively solitary education, had made him a keen observer, andhe was one who meditated over his observations. But he wasnaturally generous and sensible of kindness; and this was a favoritecompanion--next to Bertram, his most intimate. 

Lothair was quite happy in the opportunity of soothing a perturbedspirit whose society had been to him a source of so much gratification. 

It was not until Lothair had promised to extricate his friend from hiswhelming difficulties, that, upon examination, he found the act onhis part was not so simple and so easy as he had assumed it to be. Hisguardians had apportioned to him an allowance in every sense adequate tohis position; and there was no doubt, had he wished to exceed it forany legitimate purpose, not the slightest difficulty on their part wouldhave been experienced. 

Such a conjuncture had never occurred. Lothair was profuse, but he wasnot prodigal. He gratified all his fancies, but they were not ignobleones; and he was not only sentimentally, but systematically, charitable. He had a great number of fine horses, and he had just paid for anexpensive yacht. In a word, he spent a great deal of money, and until hecalled at his bankers to learn what sums were at his disposition he wasnot aware that he had overdrawn his account. 

This was rather awkward. Lothair wanted a considerable sum, and hewanted it at once. Irrespective of the consequent delay, he shrunk fromany communication with his guardians. From his uncle he had become, almost insensibly, estranged, and with his other guardian he had neverhad the slightest communication. Under these circumstances he recalledthe name of the solicitor of the trustees, between whom and himselfthere had been occasional correspondence; and, being of a somewhatimpetuous disposition, he rode off at once from his hotel to Lincoln'sInn. 

Mr. Giles listened to the narrative with unbroken interest andunswerving patience, with his eyes fixed on his client, and occasionallygiving a sympathetic nod. 

"And so, " concluded Lothair, "I thought I would come to you. "

"We are honored, " said Mr. Giles. "And, certainly, it is quite absurdthat your lordship should want money, and for a worthy purpose, andnot be able to command it. Why! the balance in the name of the trusteesnever was so great as at this moment; and this very day, or to-morrowat farthest, I shall pay no less than eight-and-thirty thousand poundstimber-money to the account. "

"Well, I don't want a fifth of that, " said Lothair. 

"Your lordship has an objection to apply to the trustees?" inquired Mr. Giles. 

"That is the point of the whole of my statement, " said Lothair somewhatimpatiently. 

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

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

"Then we will say no more about it. What I want to prevent, " said Mr. Giles, musingly, "is any thing absurd happening. There is no doubt ifyour lordship went into the street and said you wanted ten thousandpounds, or a hundred thousand, fifty people would supply youimmediately--but you would have to pay for it. Some enormous usury! Thatwould be bad; but the absurdity of the thing would be greater than themischief. Roundells, Giles, and Roundell could not help you in thatmanner. That is not our business. We are glad to find money forour clients at a legal rate of interest, and the most moderate ratefeasible. But then there must be security, and the best security. Buthere we must not conceal it from ourselves, my lord, we have nosecurity whatever. At this moment your lordship has no property. Aninsurance-office might do it with a policy. They might consider thatthey had a moral security; but still it would be absurd. There issomething absurd in your lordship having to raise money. Don't you thinkI could see these people, " said Mr. Giles, "and talk to them, and gain alittle time? We only want a little time. "

"No, " said Lothair, in a peremptory tone. "I said I would do it, and itmust be done, and at once. Sooner than there should be delay, I wouldrather go into the street, as you suggest, and ask the first man I metto lend me the money. My word has been given, and I do not care what Ipay to fulfil my word. "

"We must not think of such things, " said Mr. Giles, shaking his head. "All I want your lordship to understand is the exact position. In thiscase we have no security. Roundells, Giles, and Roundell cannot movewithout security. It would be against our articles of partnership. ButMr. Giles, as a private individual, may do what he likes. I will letyour lordship have the money, and I will take no security whatever--noteven a note of hand. All that I ask for is that your lordship shouldwrite me a letter, saying you have urgent need for a sum of money(mentioning amount) for an honorable purpose, in which your feelingsare deeply interested--and that will do. If any thing happens to yourlordship before this time next year, why, I think the trustees couldhardly refuse repaying the money; and if they did, why then, " added Mr. Giles, "I suppose it will be all the same a hundred years hence. "

"You have conferred on me the greatest obligation, " said Lothair, withmuch earnestness. "Language cannot express what I feel. I am not toomuch used to kindness, and I only hope that I may live to show my senseof yours. "

"It is really no great affair, my lord, " said Mr. Giles. "I did notwish to make difficulties, but it was my duty to put the matter clearlybefore you. What I propose I could to do is really nothing. I could dono less; I should have felt quite absurd if your lordship had gone intothe money-market. "

"I only hope, " repeated Lothair, rising and offering Mr. Giles his hand, "that life may give me some occasion to prove my gratitude. "

"Well, my lord, " replied Mr. Giles, "if your lordship wish to repay mefor any little interest I have shown in your affairs, you can do that, over and over again, and at once. "

"How so?"

"By a very great favor, by which Mrs. Giles and myself would be deeplygratified. We have a few friends who honor us by dining with us to-dayin Hyde Park Gardens. If your lordship would add the great distinctionyour presence--"

"I should only be too much honored, " exclaimed Lothair: "I suppose abouteight, " and he left the room; and Mr. Giles telegraphed instantly theimpending event to Apollonia. 

CHAPTER 8

It was a great day for Apollonia; not only to have Lothair at her righthand at dinner, but the prospect of receiving a cardinal in the evening. But she was equal to it; though so engrossed, indeed, in the immediategratification of her hopes and wishes, that she could scarcely dwellsufficiently on the coming scene of triumph and social excitement. 

The repast was sumptuous; Lothair thought the dinner would never end, there were so many dishes, and apparently all of the highest pretension. But if his simple tastes had permitted him to take an interest in thesedetails, which, they did not, he would have been assisted by a gorgeousmenu of gold and white typography, that was by the side of each guest. The table seemed literally to groan under vases and gigantic flagons, and, in its midst, rose a mountain of silver, on which apparentlyall the cardinal virtues, several of the pagan deities, and Britanniaherself, illustrated with many lights a glowing inscription, whichdescribed the fervent feelings of a grateful client. 

There were many guests--the Dowager of Farringford, a lady of quality, Apollonia's great lady, who exercised under this roof much socialtyranny; in short, was rather fine; but who, on this occasion, wassomewhat cowed by the undreamt-of presence of Lothair. She had not yetmet him, and probably never would have met him, had she not had the goodfortune of dining at his lawyer's. However, Lady Farringford was placeda long way from Lothair, having been taken down to dinner by Mr. Giles;and so, by the end of the first course, Lady Farringford had nearlyresumed her customary despotic vein, and was beginning to indulge inseveral kind observations, cheapening to her host and hostess, andindirectly exalting herself; upon which Mr. Giles took an early easyopportunity of apprising Lady Farringford, that she had nearly metCardinal Grandison at dinner, and that his eminence would certainly payhis respects to Mrs. Putney Giles in the evening. As Lady Farringfordwas at present a high ritualist and had even been talked of as "goingto Rome, " this intelligence was stunning, and it was observed that herladyship was unusually subdued during the whole of the second course. 

On the right of Lothair sat the wife of a vice-chancellor, a quietand pleasing lady, to whom Lothair, with natural good breeding, paidsnatches of happy attention, when he could for a moment with proprietywithdraw himself from the blaze of Apollonia's coruscating conversation. Then there was a rather fierce-looking Red Ribbon, medalled, as wellas be-starred, and the Red Ribbon's wife, with a blushing daughter, inspite of, her parentage not yet accustomed to stand fire. A partner andhis unusually numerous family had the pleasure also of seeing Lothairfor the first time, and there were no less than four M. P. S, one of whomwas even in office. 

Apollonia was stating to Lothair, with perspicuity, the reasons whichquite induced her to believe that the Gulf-Stream had changed itscourse, and the political and social consequences that might accrue. 

"The religious sentiment of the Southern races must be wonderfullyaffected by a more rigorous climate, " said Apollonia. "I cannot doubt, "she continued, "that a series of severe winters at Rome might put an endto Romanism. "

"But is there any fear that a reciprocal influence might be exercisedon the Northern nations?" inquired Lothair. "Would there be anyapprehension of our Protestantism becoming proportionately relaxed?"

"Of course not, " said Apollonia. "Truth cannot be affected by climate. Truth is truth, alike in Palestine and Scandinavia. "

"I wonder what the cardinal would think of this, " said Lothair, "who, you tell me, is coming to you this evening?"

"Yes, I am most interested to see him, though he is the most puissant ofour foes. Of course he would take refuge in sophistry; and science, youknow, they deny. "

"Cardinal Grandison is giving some lectures on science, " said thevice-chancellor's lady, quietly. 

"It is remorse, " said Apollonia. "Their clever men can never forget thatunfortunate affair of Galileo, and think they can divert the indignationof the ninteenth century by mock zeal about red sandstone or the originof species. "

"And are you afraid of the Gulf-Stream?" inquired Lothair of his calmerneighbor. 

"I think we want more evidence of a change. The vice-chancellor andmyself went down to a place we have near town, on Saturday, where thereis a very nice piece of water; indeed, some people call it a lake; butit was quite frozen, and my boys wanted to skate, but that I would notpermit. "

"You believe in the Gulf-Stream to that extent, " said Lothair--"noskating. "

The cardinal came, early; the ladies had not long left the dining-room. They were agitated when his name was announced; even Apollonia'sheart beat; but then that might be accounted for by the inopportunerecollection of an occasional correspondence with Caprera. 

Nothing could exceed the simple suavity with which the cardinalappeared, approached, and greeted them. He thanked Apollonia for herpermission to pay his respects to her, which he had long wished to do;and then they were all presented, and he said exactly the right thingto every one. He must have heard of them all before, or read theircharacters in their countenances. In a few minutes they were alllistening to his eminence with enchanted ease, as, sitting on thesofa by his hostess, he described to them the ambassadors who hadjust arrived from Japan, and with whom he had relations of interestingaffairs. The Japanese government had exhibited enlightened kindness tosome of his poor people who had barely escaped martyrdom. Much might beexpected from the Mikado, evidently a man of singular penetration andelevated views; and his eminence looked as if the mission of Yokohamawould speedily end in an episcopal see; but he knew where he was andstudiously avoided all controversial matter. 

After all, the Mikado himself was not more remarkable than this princeof the Church in a Tyburnian drawing-room habited in his pink cassockand cape, and waving, as he spoke, with careless grace, his pinkbarrette. 

The ladies thought the gentlemen rejoined them too soon, but Mr. Giles, when he was apprised of the arrival of the cardinal, thought it rightto precipitate the symposium. With great tact, when the cardinal rose togreet him, Mr. Giles withdrew his eminence from those surrounding, and, after a brief interchange of whispered words, quitted him and thenbrought forward and presented Lothair to the cardinal, and left them. 

"This is not the first time that we should have met, " said the cardinal, "but my happiness is so great at this moment that, though I deplore, Iwill not dwell on, the past. "

"I am, nevertheless, grateful to you, sir, for many services, and havemore than once contemplated taking the liberty of personally assuringyour a eminence of my gratitude. "

"I think we might sit down, " said the cardinal, looking around; and thenhe led Lothair into an open but interior saloon, where none were yetpresent, and where they seated themselves on a sofa and were soonengaged in apparently interesting converse. 

In the mean time the world gradually filled the principal saloon ofApollonia, and, when it approached overflowing, occasionally somepersons passed the line, and entered the room in which the cardinal andhis ward were seated, and then, as if conscious of violating some sacredplace, drew back. Others, on the contrary, with coarser curiosity, wereinduced to invade the chamber from the mere fact that the cardinal wasto be seen there. 

"My geographical instinct, " said the cardinal to Lothair, "assures methat I can regain the staircase through these rooms, without rejoiningthe busy world; so I shall bid you good-night and even presume to giveyou my blessing;" and his eminence glided away. 

When Lothair returned to the saloon it was so crowded that he was notobserved; exactly what he liked; and he stood against the wall watchingall that passed, not without amusement. A lively, social parasite, whohad dined there, and had thanked his stars at dinner that Fortune had, decreed he should meet Lothair, had been cruising for his prize all thetime that Lothair had been conversing with the cardinal and was soon athis side. 

"A strange scene this!" said the parasite. 

"Is it unusual?" inquired Lothair. 

"Such a medley! How can they can be got together, I marvel--priests andphilosophers, legitimists, and carbonari! Wonderful woman, Mrs. PutneyGiles!"

"She is very entertaining, " said Lothair, "and seems to me clever. "

"Remarkably so, " said the parasite, who had been on the point ofsatirizing his hostess, but, observing the quarter of the wind, withrapidity went in for praise. "An extraordinary woman. Your lordship hada long talk with the cardinal. "

"I had the honor of some conversation with Cardinal Grandison, " saidLothair, drawing up. 

"I wonder what the cardinal would have said if he had met Mazzini here?"

"Mazzini! Is he here?"

"Not now; but I have seen him here, " said the parasite, "and our hostsuch a Tory! That makes the thing so amusing;" and then the parasitewent on making small personal observations on the surrounding scene, andevery now and then telling little tales of great people with whom, itappeared, he was intimate--all concerted fire to gain the very greatsocial fortress he was now besieging. The parasite was so full ofhimself, and so anxious to display himself to advantage, that with allhis practice it was some time before he perceived he did not make allthe way he could wish with Lothair; who was courteous, but somewhatmonosyllabic and absent. 

"Your lordship is struck by that face?" said the parasite. 

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

He had exchanged glances with that face during the last ten minutes, andthe mutual expression was not one of sympathy but curiosity blended, onthe part of the face, with an expression, if not of disdain, of extremereserve. 

It was the face of a matron, apparently of not many summers, for hershapely figure was still slender, though her mien was stately. But itwas the countenance that had commanded the attention of Lothair: pale, but perfectly Attic in outline, with the short upper lip and the roundchin, and a profusion of dark-chestnut hair bound by a Grecian fillet, and on her brow a star. 

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

"If your lordship could only get a five-franc piece of the last FrenchRepublic, 1850, you would know. I dare say the money-changers couldget you one. All the artists of Paris, painters, and sculptors, andmedallists, were competing to produce a face worthy of representing 'LaR publique fran aise;' nobody was satisfied, when Oudine caught a girlof not seventeen, and, with a literal reproduction of Nature, gained theprize with unanimity. "

"Ah!"

"And, though years have passed, the countenance has not changed; perhapsimproved. "

"It is a countenance that will bear, perhaps even would require, maturity, " said Lothair; "but she is no longer 'La R publique franaise;' what is she now?"

"She is called Theodora, though married, I believe, to an Englishman, a friend of Garibaldi. Her birth unknown; some say an Italian, somea Pole; all sorts of stories. But she speaks every language, isultra-cosmopolitan, and has invented a new religion. "

"A new religion!"

"Would your lordship care to be introduced to her? I know her enough forthat. Shall we go up to her?"

"I have made so many now acquaintances to-day, " said, Lothair, as itwere starting from a reverie, "and indeed heard so many new things, thatI think I had better say good-night;" and he graciously retired. 

CHAPTER 9

About the same time that Lothair had repaired to the residence of Mr. Giles, Monsignore Berwick, whose audience of the cardinal in the morninghad preceded that of the legal adviser of the trustees, made his waytoward one of the noblest mansions in St. James's Square, where residedLord St. Jerome. 

It was a mild winter evening; a little fog still hanging about, butvanquished by the cheerful lamps, and the voice of the muffin-bell wasjust heard at intervals; a genial sound that calls up visions of trimand happy hearths. If we could only so contrive our lives as to go intothe country for the first note of the nightingale, and return to townfor the first note of the muffin-bell, existence, it is humbly presumed, might be more enjoyable. 

Monsignore Berwick was a young man, but looking younger from acountenance almost of childhood; fair, with light-blue eyes, and flaxenhair and delicate features. He was the last person you would have fixedupon as a born Roman; but Nature, in one of the freaks of race, hadresolved that his old Scottish blood should be reasserted, though his:ancestors had sedulously blended it, for, many generations, with that ofthe princely houses of the eternal city. The monsignore was the greateststatesman of Rome, formed and favored by Antonelli and probably hissuccessor. 

The mansion of Lord St. Jerome was a real family mansion, built by hisancestors a century and a half ago, when they believed that, from itscentral position, its happy contiguity to the court, the senate, and theseats of government, they at last, in St. James's Square, had discovereda site which could defy the vicissitudes of fashion, and not sharethe fate of the river palaces, which they had been obliged in turnto relinquish. And in a considerable degree they were right in theiranticipation; for, although they have somewhat unwisely, permitted theclubs to invade too successfully their territory, St. James's Squaremay be looked upon as our Faubourg St. Germain, and a great patricianresiding there dwells in the heart of that free and noble life of whichhe ought to be a part. 

A marble hall and a marble staircase, lofty chambers with silk ortapestried hangings, gilded cornices, and painted ceilings, gave aglimpse of almost Venetian splendor, and rare in our metropolitan housesof this age; but the first dwellers in St. James's Square had tenderand inspiring recollections of the Adrian bride, had frolicked in St. Mark's, and glided in adventurous gondolas. The monsignore was usheredinto a chamber bright with lights and a blazing fire, and welcomed withextreme cordiality by his hostess, who was then alone. Lady St. Jeromewas still the young wife of a nobleman not old. She was the daughter ofa Protestant house, but, during a residence at Rome after her marriage, she had reverted to the ancient faith, which she professed with theenthusiastic convictions of a convert. Her whole life was dedicated tothe triumph of the Catholic cause; and, being a woman of considerableintelligence and of an ardent mind, she had become a recognized power inthe great confederacy which has so much influenced the human race, and which has yet to play perhaps a mighty part in the fortunes of theworld. 

"I was in great hopes that the cardinal would have met you at dinner, "said Lady St. Jerome, "but he wrote only this afternoon to sayunexpected business would prevent him, but he would be here in theevening, though late. "

"It must be something sudden, for I was with his eminence this morning, and he then contemplated our meeting here. "

"Nothing from abroad?"

"I should think not, or it would be known to me. There is nothing newfrom abroad this afternoon: my time has been spent in writing, notreceiving, dispatches. "

"And all well, I hope?"

"This Scotch business plagues us. So far as Scotland is concerned, it isquite ripe; but the cardinal counsels delay on account of this country, and he has such a consummate knowledge of England, that--"

At this moment Lord St Jerome entered the room--a grave but graciouspersonage, polished but looking silent, though he immediately turnedthe conversation to the weather. The monsignore began denouncing Englishfogs; but Lord St. Jerome maintained that, on the whole, there were notmore fogs in England than in any other country; "and as for the French, "he added, "I like their audacity, for, when they revolutionized thecalendar, they called one of their months Brumaire. "

Then came in one of his lordships chaplains, who saluted the monsignorewith reverence, and immediately afterward a beautiful young lady, hisniece, Clare Arundel. 

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

It was a lively dinner. Lord St. Jerome loved conversation, though henever conversed. "There must be an audience, " he would say, "and I amthe audience. " The partner of his life, whom he never ceased admiring, had originally fascinated him by her conversational talents; and, evenif Nature had not impelled her, Lady St. Jerome was too wise a womanto relinquish the spell. The monsignore could always, when necessary, sparkle with anecdote or blaze with repartee; and all the chaplains, whoabounded in this house, were men of bright abilities, not merely men ofreading, but of the world, learned in the world's ways, and trained togovern mankind by versatility of their sympathies. It was a dinner wherethere could not be two conversations going on, and where even the silenttake their share in the talk by their sympathy. 

And among the silent, as silent even as Lord St. Jerome, was MissArundel; and yet her large violet eyes, darker even than her dark-brownhair, and gleaming with intelligence, and her rich face mantling withemotion, proved she was not insensible to the witty passages and thebright and interesting narratives that were sparkling and flowing abouther. 

The gentlemen left the dining-room with the ladies, in the Continentalmanner. Lady St. Jerome, who was leaning on the arm of the monsignore, guided him into a saloon farther than the one they had reentered, andthen seating herself said, "You were telling me about Scotland, that youyourself thought it ripe. "

"Unquestionably. The original plan was to have established our hierarchywhen the Kirk split up; but that would have been a mistake, it was notthen ripe. There would have been a fanatical reaction. There is alwaysa tendency that way in Scotland: as it is, at this moment, theEstablishment and the Free Kirk are mutually sighing for some compromisewhich may bring them together and, if the proprietors would give uptheir petty patronage, some flatter themselves it might be arranged. Butwe are thoroughly well informed, and have provided for all this. We senttwo of our best men into Scotland some time ago, and they have inventeda new church, called the United Presbyterians. John Knox himself wasnever more violent, or more mischievous. The United Presbyterians willdo the business: they will render Scotland simply impossible to livein; and then, when the crisis arrives, the distracted and despairingmillions will find refuge in the bosom of their only mother. That iswhy, at home, we wanted no delay in the publication of the bull and theestablishment of the hierarchy. "

"But the cardinal says no?"

"And must be followed. For these islands he has no equal. He wishesgreat reserve at present. Affairs here are progressing, gradually butsurely. But it is Ireland where matters are critical, or will be soon. "

"Ireland! I thought there was a sort of understanding there--at leastfor the present. "

The monsignore shook his head. "What do you think of an Americaninvasion of Ireland?"

"An American invasion!"

"Even so; nothing more probable, and nothing more to be deprecated byus. Now that the civil war in America is over, the Irish soldiery areresolved to employ their experience and their weapons in their ownland; but they have no thought for the interest of the Holy See, or thewelfare of our holy religion. Their secret organization is tamperingwith the people and tampering with the priests. The difficulty ofIreland is that the priests and the people will consider every thingin a purely Irish point of view. To gain some local object, they willencourage the principles of the most lawless liberalism, which naturallyland them in Fenianism and atheism. And the danger is not foreseen, because the Irish political object of the moment is alone looked to. "

"But surely they can be guided?"

"We want a statesman in Ireland. We have never been able to find one; wewant a man like the cardinal. But the Irish will have a native for theirchief. We caught Churchill young, and educated him in the Propaganda;but he has disappointed us. At first all seemed well; he was reservedand austere; and we heard with satisfaction that he was unpopular. But, now that critical times are arriving, his peasant-blood cannot resistthe contagion. He proclaims the absolute equality of all religious, andof the power of the state to confiscate ecclesiastical property, and notrestore it to us, but alienate it forever. For the chance of subvertingthe Anglican Establishment, he is favoring a policy which will subvertreligion itself. In his eagerness he cannot see that the Anglicans haveonly a lease of our property, a lease which is rapidly expiring. "

"This is sad. "

"It is perilous, and difficult to deal with. But it must be dealtwith. The problem is to suppress Fenianism, and not to strengthen theProtestant confederacy. "

"And you left Rome for this? We understood you were coming for somethingelse, " said Lady St. Jerome, in a significant tone. 

"Yes, yes, I have been there, and I have seen him. "

"And have you succeeded?"

"No; and no one will--at least at present. "

"Is all lost, then? Is the Malta scheme again on the carpet?"

"Our Holy Church in built upon a rock, " said the monsignore, "but notupon the rock of Malta. Nothing is lost; Antonelli is calm and sanguine, though, rest assured, there is no doubt about what I tell you. Francehas washed her hands of us. "

"Where, then, are we to look for aid?" exclaimed Lady St. Jerome, "against the assassins and atheists? Austria, the alternative ally, is no longer near you; and if she were--that I should ever live to sayit--even Austria is our foe. "

"Poor Austria!" said the monsignore with an unctuous sneer. "Two thingsmade her a nation; she was German and she was Catholic, and now she isneither. "

"But you alarm me, my dear lord, with your terrible news. We oncethought that Spain would be our protector, but we hear bad news fromSpain. "

"Yes, " said the monsignore, "I think it highly probable that, before afew years have elapsed, every government in Europe will be atheisticalexcept France. Vanity will always keep France the eldest son of theChurch, even if she wear a bonnet rouge. But, if the Holy Father keepRome, these strange changes will only make the occupier of the chair ofSt. Peter more powerful. His subjects will be In every clime and everycountry, and then they will be only his subjects. We shall get rid ofthe difficulty of the divided allegiance, Lady St. Jerome, which plaguedour poor forefathers so much. "

"If we keep Rome, " said Lady St. Jerome. 

"And we shall. Let Christendom give us her prayers for the next fewyears, and Pio Nono will become the most powerful monarch In Europe, andperhaps the only one. "

"I hear a sound, " exclaimed Lady St. Jerome. "Yes! the cardinal hascome. Let us greet him. "

But as they were approaching the saloon the cardinal met them, and wavedthem back. "We will return, " he said, "to our friends immediately, but Iwant to say one word to you both. "

He made them sit down. "I am a little restless, " he said, and stoodbefore the fire. "Something interesting has happened; nothing to do withpublic affairs. Do not pitch your expectations too high--but still ofimportance, and certainly of great interest--at least to me. I have seenmy child--my ward. "

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

"And what is he like?" inquired the monsignore. 

"All that one could wish. Extremely good-looking, highly bred, and mostingenuous; a considerable intelligence, and not untrained; but the mostabsolutely unaffected person I ever encountered. "

"Ah! if he had been trained by your eminence, " sighed Lady St. Jerome. "Is it too late?"

"'Tis an immense position, " murmured Berwick. 

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

"Your ladyship is a sort of cousin of his, " said the cardinal, musingly. 

"Yes; but very remote. I dare say he would not acknowledge the tie. Butwe are kin; we have the same blood in our veins. "

"You should make his acquaintance, " said the cardinal. 

"I more than desire it. I hear he has been terribly neglected, broughtup among the most dreadful people, entirely infidels and fanatics. "

"He has been nearly two years at Oxford, " said the cardinal. "That mayhave mitigated the evil. "

"Ah! but you, my lord cardinal, you must interfere. Now that you at lastknow him, you must undertake the great task; you must save him. "

"We must all pray, as I pray every morn and every night, " said thecardinal, "for the conversion of England. "

"Or the conquest, " murmured Berwick. 

CHAPTER 10

As the cardinal was regaining his carriage on leaving Mrs. Giles'sparty, there was, about the entrance of the house, the usual gatheringunder such circumstances; some zealous linkboys marvellously familiarwith London life, and some midnight loungers, who thus take their humbleshare of the social excitement, and their happy chance of becomingacquainted with some of the notables of the wondrous world of whichthey form the base. This little gathering, ranged at the instant intostricter order by the police to facilitate the passage of his eminence, prevented the progress of a passenger, who exclaimed in an audible, but not noisy voice, as if, he were ejaculating to himself, "A bas lespretres!"

This exclamation, unintelligible to the populace, was noticed onlyby the only person who understood it. The cardinal, astonished at theunusual sound--for, hitherto, he had always found the outer world ofLondon civil; or at least indifferent--threw his penetrating glanceat the passenger, and caught clearly the visage on which the lamplightfully shone. It was a square, sinewy face, closely shaven, with theexception of a small but thick mustache, brown as the well-cropped hair, and blending with the hazel eye; a calm, but determined countenance;clearly not that of an Englishman, for he wore ear-rings. 

The carriage drove off, and the passenger, somewhat forcing his waythrough the clustering group, continued his course until he reached thecab-stand near the Marble Arch, when he engaged a vehicle and orderedto be driven to Leicester Square. That quarter of the town exhibitsan animated scene toward the witching hour; many lights and muchpopulation, illuminated coffee-houses, the stir of a large theatre, bands of music in the open air, and other sounds, most of them gay, andsome festive. The stranger, whose compact figure was shrouded by a longfur cape, had not the appearance of being influenced by the temptationof amusement. As he stopped in the square and looked around him, theexpression of his countenance was moody, perhaps even anxious. He seemedto be making observations on the locality, and, after a few minutes, crossed the open space and turned up into a small street which openedinto the square. In this street was a coffee-house of some pretension, connected indeed with an hotel, which had been formed out of two houses, and therefore possessed no inconsiderable accommodation. 

The coffee-room was capacious, and adorned in a manner which intimatedit was not kept by an Englishman, or much used by Englishmen. The wallswere painted in frescoed arabesques. There were many guests, principallyseated at small tables of marble, and on benches and chairs covered witha coarse crimson velvet. Some were sipping coffee, some were drinkingwine, others were smoking or playing dominoes, or doing both; while manywere engaged in reading the foreign journals which abounded. 

An ever-vigilant waiter was at the side of the stranger the instant heentered, and wished to know his pleasure. The stranger was examiningwith his keen eye every individual in the room while this question wasasked and repeated. 

"What would I wish?" said the stranger, having concluded his inspection, and as it were summoning back his recollection. "I would wish to see, and at once, one Mr. Perroni, who, I believe, lives here. "

"Why, 'tis the master!" exclaimed the waiter. 

"Well, then, go and tell the master that I want him. "

"But the master is much engaged, " said the waiter, "--particularly. "

"I dare say; but you will go and tell him that I particularly want tosee him. "

The waiter, though prepared to be impertinent to any one else, felt thatone was speaking to him who must be obeyed, and, with a subdued, buthesitating manner, said, "There is a meeting to-night up-stairs, wherethe master is secretary, and it is difficult to see him; but, if I couldsee him, what name am I to give?"

"You will go to him instantly, " said the stranger, "and you will tellhim that he is wanted by Captain Bruges. "

The waiter was not long absent, and returning with an obsequious bow, heinvited the stranger to follow him to a private room, where he wasalone only for a few seconds, for the door opened and he was joined byPerroni. 

"Ah! my general, " exclaimed the master of the coffee-house, and hekissed the stranger's hand. "You received my telegram?"

"I am here. Now what is your business?"

"There is business, and great business, if you will do it; business foryou. "

"Well, I am a soldier, and soldiering is my trade, and I do not muchcare what I do in that way, provided it is not against the good cause. But I must tell you at once, friend Perroni, I am not a man who willtake a leap in the dark. I must form my own staff, and I must have mycommissariat secure. "

"My general, you will be master of your own terms. The StandingCommittee of the Holy Alliance of Peoples are sitting upstairs at thismoment. They were unanimous in sending for you. See them; judge foryourself; and, rest assured, you will be satisfied. "

"I do not much like having to do with committees, " said the general. "However, let it be as you like--I will see them. "

"I had better just announce your arrival, " said Perroni. "And will younot take something, my general after your travel you must be wearied. "

"A glass of sugar-and-water. You know, I am not easily tired. And, Iagree with you, it is better to come to business at once: so preparethem. "

CHAPTER 11

The Standing Committee of the Holy Alliance of Peoples all rose, although they were extreme republicans, when the general entered. Suchis the magical influence of a man of action over men of the pen an thetongue. Had it been, instead of a successful military leader, an oratorthat had inspired Europe, or a journalist who had rights of the humanrace, the Standing Committee would have only seen men of their ownkidney, who, having been favored with happier opportunities thanthemselves, had reaped a harvest which, equally favored, they might herehave garnered. 

"General, " said Felix Drolin, the president, who was looked upon by thebrotherhood as a statesman, for he had been in his time, a member of aprovisional government, "this seat is for you, " and he pointed to oneon his right hand. "You are ever welcome; and I hope you bring goodtidings, and good fortune. "

"I am glad to be among my friends, and I may say, " looking around, "mycomrades. I hope I may bring you better fortune than my tidings. "

"But now they have left Rome, " said the president, "every day we expectgood news. "

"Ay, ay! he has left Rome, but he has not left Rome with the door open. I hope it is not on such gossip you have sent for me. You have somethingon hand. What is it?"

"You shall hear it from the fountain-head, " said the president, "freshfrom New York, " and he pointed to an individual seated in the centre ofthe table. 

"Ah! Colonel Finucane, " said the general, "I have not forgotten JamesRiver. You did that well. What is the trick now?"

Whereupon a tall, lean man, with a decided brogue, but speaking throughhis nose, rose from his seat and informed the general that the Irishpeople were organized and ready to rise; that they had sent theirdeputies to New York; all they wanted were arms and officers; that theAmerican brethren had agreed to supply them with both, and amply; andthat considerable subscriptions were raising for other purposes. Whatthey now required was a commander-in-chief equal to the occasion, and inwhom all would have confidence; and therefore they had telegraphed forthe general. 

"I doubt not our friends over the water would send us plenty of rifles, "said the general, "if we could only manage to land them; and, I think, Iknow men now in the States from whom I could form a good staff; but howabout the people of Ireland? What evidence have we that they will rise, if we land?"

"The best, " said the president. "We have a head-centre here, CitizenDesmond, who will give you the most recent and the most authenticintelligence on that head. "

"The whole country is organized, " said the head-centre; "we could putthree hundred thousand men in the field at any time in a fortnight. Themovement is not sectarian; it pervades all classes and all creeds. Allthat we want are officers and arms. "

"Hem!" said the general; "and as to your other supplies? Any scheme ofcommissariat?"

"There will be no lack of means, " replied the head-centre. "There is nocountry where so much money is hoarded as in Ireland. But, dependupon it, so far as the commissariat is concerned, the movement will beself-supporting. "

"Well, we shall see, " said, the general; "I am sorry it is an Irishaffair, though, to be sure, what else could it be? I am not fond ofIrish affairs: whatever may be said, and however plausible things maylook, in an Irish business there is always a priest at the bottom of it. I hate priests. By-the-by, I was stopped on my way here by a cardinalgetting into his carriage. I thought I had burnt all those vehicles whenI was at Rome with Garibaldi in '48. A cardinal in his carriage! I hadno idea you permitted that sort of cattle in London. "

"London is a roost for every bird, " said Felix Drolin. 

"Very few of the priests favor this movement, " said Desmond. 

"Then you have a great power against you, " said the general, in"addition to England. "

"They are not exactly against; the bulk of them are too national forthat; but Rome does not sanction--you understand?"

"I understand enough, " said the general, "to see that we must not actwith precipitation. An Irish business is a thing to be turned overseveral times. "

"But yet, " said a Pole, "what hope for humanity except from the risingof an oppressed nationality? We have offered ourselves on the altar, and in vain! Greece is too small, and Roumania--though both of themare ready to do any thing; but they would be the mere tools of Russia. Ireland alone remains, and she is at our feet. "

"The peoples will never succeed until they have a fleet, " said a German. "Then you could land as many rifles as you like, or any thing else. Tohave a fleet we rose against Denmark in my country, but we have beenbetrayed. Nevertheless, Germany will yet be united, and she can only beunited as a republic. Then she will be the mistress of the seas. "

"That is the mission of Italy, " said Perroni. "Italy--with thetraditions of Genoa, Venice, Pisa--Italy is plainly indicated as thefuture mistress of the seas. "

"I beg your pardon, " said the German; "the future mistress of the seesis the land of the Viking. It is the forests of the Baltic that willbuild the Best of the future. You have no timber in Italy. "

"Timber is no longer wanted, " said Perroni. "Nor do I know of what willbe formed the fleets of the future. But the sovereignty of the seasdepends upon seamen, and the nautical genius of the Italians--"

"Comrades, " said the general, "we have discussed to-night a greatsubject. For my part I have travelled rather briskly, as you wished it. I should like to sleep on this affair. "

"'Tis most reasonable, " said the president. "Our refreshment at councilis very spare, " he continued, and he pointed to a vase of water and someglasses ranged round it in the middle of the table; "but we always drinkone toast, general, before we separate. It is to one whom you love, and whom you have served well. Fill glasses, brethren and now 'TOMARY-ANNE. '"

If they had been inspired by the grape, nothing could be more animatedand even excited than all their countenances suddenly became. The cheermight have been heard in the coffee-room, as they expressed, inthe phrases of many languages, the never-failing and never-flaggingenthusiasm invoked by the toast of their mistress. 

CHAPTER 12

"Did you read that paragraph, mamma?" inquired Lady Corisande of theduchess, in a tone of some seriousness. 

"I did. "

"And what did you think of it?"

"It filled me with so much amazement that I have hardly begun to think. "

"And Bertram never gave a hint of such things!"

"Let us believe they are quite untrue. "

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

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

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

"You must dismiss such thoughts, my child; they are fanciful. "

"But they will come, and when least expected--frequently in church, butalso in the sunshine; and when I am riding too, when, once, everything seemed gay. But now I often think of strife, and struggle, andwar--civil war: the stir of our cavalcade seems like the tramp ofcavalry. "

"You indulge your imagination too much, dear Corisande. When you returnto London, and enter the world, these anxious thoughts will fly. "

"Is it imagination? I should rather have doubted my being of animaginative nature. It seems to me that I am rather literal. But Icannot help hearing and reading things, and observing things, and theyfill me with disquietude. All seems doubt and change, when it wouldappear that we require both faith and firmness. "

"The duke is not alarmed about affairs, " said his wife. 

"And, if all did their duty like papa, there might be less, or nocause, " said Corisande. "But, when I hear of young nobles, the naturalleaders of the land, going over to the Roman Catholic Church, I confessI lose heart and patience. It seems so unpatriotic, so effeminate. "

"It may not be true, " said the duchess. 

"It may not be true of him, but it is true of others, " said LadyCorisande. "And why should he escape? He is very young, ratherfriendless, and surrounded by wily persons. I am disappointed aboutBertram too. He ought to have prevented this, if it be true. Bertramseemed to me to have such excellent principles, and so completely tofeel that he was born to maintain the great country which his ancestorscreated, that I indulged in dreams. I suppose you are right, mamma; Isuppose I am imaginative without knowing it; but I have, always thought, and hoped, that when the troubles came the country might, perhaps, rallyround Bertram. "

"I wish to see Bertram in Parliament, " said the duchess. "That will bethe best thing for him. The duke has some plans. "

This conversation had been occasioned by a paragraph in the MorningPost, circulating a rumor that a young noble, obviously Lothair, onthe impending completion of his minority, was about to enter the RomanChurch. The duchess and her daughter were sitting in a chamber of theirnorthern castle, and speculating on their return to London, which was totake place after the Easter which had just arrived. It was an importantsocial season for Corisande, for she was to be formally introduced intothe great world, and to be presented at court. 

In the mean while, was there any truth in the report about Lothair?

After their meeting at their lawyer's, a certain intimacy had occurredbetween the cardinal and his ward. They met again immediately andfrequently, and their mutual feelings were cordial. The manners of hiseminence were refined and affectionate; his conversational powers weredistinguished; there was not a subject on which his mind did not teemwith interesting suggestions; his easy knowledge seemed always ready andalways full; and whether it were art, or letters, or manners, or evenpolitical affairs, Lothair seemed to listen to one of the wisest, mostenlightened, and most agreeable of men. There was only one subjecton which his eminence seemed scrupulous never to touch, and that wasreligion; or so indirectly, that it was only when alone that Lothairfrequently found himself musing over the happy influence on the arts, and morals, and happiness of mankind--of the Church. 

In due time, not too soon, but when he was attuned to the initiation, the cardinal presented Lothair to Lady St. Jerome. The impassionedeloquence of that lady germinated the seed which the cardinal had seemedso carelessly to scatter. She was a woman to inspire crusaders. Not thatshe ever: condescended to vindicate her own particular faith, or spokeas if she were conscious that Lothair did not possess it. Assumingthat religion was true, for otherwise man would be in a more degradedposition than the beasts of the field, which are not aware of their ownwretchedness, then religion should be the principal occupation of man, to which all other pursuits should be subservient. The doom of eternity, and the fortunes of life, cannot be placed in competition. Our daysshould be pure, and holy, and heroic--full of noble thoughts and solemnsacrifice. Providence, in its wisdom, had decreed that the world shouldbe divided between the faithful and atheists; the latter even seemedto predominate. There was no doubt that, if they prevailed, all thatelevated man would become extinct. It was a great trial; but happywas the man who was privileged even to endure the awful test. It mightdevelop the highest qualities and the most sublime conduct. If he wereequal to the occasion, and could control and even subdue these sons ofKorah, he would rank with Michael the Archangel. 

This was the text on which frequent discourses were delivered toLothair, and to which he listened at first with eager, and soon withenraptured attention. The priestess was worthy of the shrine. Fewpersons were ever gifted with more natural eloquence: a command oflanguage, choice without being pedantic; beautiful hands that flutteredwith irresistible grace; flashing eyes and a voice of melody. 

Lothair began to examine himself, and to ascertain whether he possessedthe necessary qualities, and was capable of sublime conduct. His naturalmodesty and his strong religious feeling struggled together. He fearedhe was not an archangel, and yet he longed to struggle with the powersof darkness. 

One day he ventured to express to Miss Arundel a somewhat hopeful viewof the future, but Miss Arundel shook her head. 

"I do not agree with my aunt, at least as regards this country, " saidMiss Arundel; "I think our sins are too great. We left His Church, andGod is now leaving us. "

Lothair looked grave, but was silent. 

Weeks had passed since his introduction to the family of Lord St. Jerome, and it was remarkable how large a portion of his subsequent timehad passed under that roof. At first there were few persons in town, and really of these Lothair knew none; and then the house in St. James'sSquare was not only an interesting but it was an agreeable house. AllLady St. Jerome's family connections were persons of much fashion, sothere was more variety and entertainment than sometimes are to be foundunder a Roman Catholic roof. Lady St. Jerome was at home every eveningbefore Easter. Few dames can venture successfully on so decided a step;but her saloons were always attended, and by "nice people. " Occasionallythe cardinal stepped in, and, to a certain degree, the saloon was therendezvous of the Catholic party; but it was also generally social anddistinguished. Many bright dames and damsels, and many influential men, were there, who little deemed that deep and daring thoughts were theremasked by many a gracious countenance. The social atmosphere infinitelypleased Lothair. The mixture of solemn duty and graceful diversion, highpurposes and charming manners, seemed to realize some youthful dreams ofelegant existence. All, too, was enhanced by the historic character ofthe roof and by the recollection that their mutual ancestors, as ClareArundel more than once intimated to him, had created England. Having hadso many pleasant dinners in St. James's Square, and spent there somany evening hours, it was not wonderful that Lothair had accepted aninvitation from Lord St. Jerome to pass Easter at his country-seat. 

CHAPTER 13

Vauxe, the seat of the St. Jeromes, was the finest specimen of the oldEnglish residence extant. It was the perfection of the style, which hadgradually arisen after the Wars of the Roses had alike destroyed allthe castles and the purpose of those stern erections. People said Vauxelooked like a college: the truth is, colleges looked like Vauxe, for, when those fair and civil buildings rose, the wise and liberal spiritswho endowed them intended that they should resemble, as much aspossible, the residence of a great noble. 

There were two quadrangles at Vauxe of gray-stone; the outer one oflarger dimensions and much covered with ivy; the inner one not soextensive, but more ornate, with a lofty tower, a hall, and a chapel. The house was full of galleries, and they were full of portraits. Indeedthere was scarcely a chamber in this vast edifice of which the wallswere not breathing with English history in this interesting form. Sometimes more ideal art asserted a triumphant claim--transcendentalHoly Families, seraphic saints, and gorgeous scenes by Tintoret and Paulof Verona. 

The furniture of the house seemed never to have been changed. It wasvery old, somewhat scanty, but very rich--tapestry and velvet hangings, marvellous cabinets, and crystal girandoles. Here and there a group ofancient plate; ewers and flagons and tall salt-cellars, a foot high andrichly chiselled; sometimes a state bed shadowed with a huge pomp ofstiff brocade and borne by silver poles. 

Vauxe stood in a large park, studded with stately trees; here and therean avenue of Spanish chestnuts or a grove of oaks; sometimes a gorsydell, and sometimes a so great spread of antlered fern, taller than thetallest man. 

It was only twenty miles from town, and Lord St. Jerome drove Lothairdown; the last ten miles through a pretty land, which, at theright season, would have been bright with orchards, oak-woods, andhop-gardens. Lord St. Jerome loved horses, and was an eminent whip. Hehad driven four-in-hand when a boy, and he went on driving four-in-hand;not because it was the fashion, but because he loved it. Toward theclose of Lent, Lady St. Jerome and Clare Arundel had been at a conventin retreat, but they always passed Holy Week at home, and they were towelcome Lord St. Jerome again at Vauxe. 

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

"There is Vauxe, " said Lord St. Jerome, in a tone of proud humility, asa turn in the road first displayed the stately pile. 

"How beautiful!" said Lothair. "Ah! our ancestors understood thecountry. "

"I used to think when I was a boy, " said Lord St. Jerome, "that I livedin the prettiest village in the world; but these railroads haveso changed every thing that Vauxe seems to me now only a secondtown-house. "

The ladies were in a garden, where they were consulting with thegardener and Father Coleman about the shape of some new beds, for thecritical hour of filling them was approaching. The gardener, like allhead-gardeners, was opinionated. Living always at Vauxe, he had come tobelieve that the gardens belonged to him, and that the family were onlyoccasional visitors; and he treated them accordingly. The lively andimpetuous Lady St. Jerome had a thousand bright fancies, but her moroseattendant never indulged them. She used to deplore his tyranny withpiteous playfulness. "I suppose, " she would say, "it is useless toresist, for I observe 'tis the same everywhere. Lady Roehampton says shenever has her way with her gardens. It is no use speaking to Lord St. Jerome, for, though he is afraid of nothing else, I am sure he is afraidof Hawkins. "

The only way that Lady St. Jerome could manage Hawkins was throughFather Coleman. Father Coleman, who knew every thing, knew a great dealabout gardens; from the days of Le Notre to those of the fine gentlemenwho now travel about, and when disengaged deign to give us advice. 

Father Coleman had only just entered middle-age, was imperturbable andmild in his manner. He passed his life very much at Vauxe, and imparteda great deal of knowledge to Mr. Hawkins without apparently beingconscious of so doing. At the bottom of his mind, Mr. Hawkins feltassured that he had gained several distinguished prizes, mainly throughthe hints and guidance of Father Coleman; and thus, though on thesurface, a little surly, he was ruled by Father Coleman, under thecombined influence of self-interest and superior knowledge. 

"You find us in a garden without flowers, " said Lady St. Jerome; "butthe sun, I think, alway loves these golden yews. "

"These are for you, dear uncle, " said Clare Arundel, as she gave him arich cluster of violets. "Just now the woods are more fragrant than thegardens, and these are the produce of our morning walk. I could havebrought you some primroses, but I do not like to mix violets with anything. "

"They say primroses make a capital salad, " said Lord St. Jerome. 

"Barbarian!" exclaimed Lady St. Jerome. "I see you want luncheon; itmust, be ready;" and she took Lothair's arm. "I will show you a portraitof one of your ancestors, " she said; "he married an Arundel. "

CHAPTER 14

"Now, you know, " said Lady St. Jerome to Lothair in a hushed voice, asthey sat together in the evening, "you are to be quite free here; to doexactly what you like; and we shall follow our ways. If you like to havea clergyman of your own Church visit you while you are with us, pray sayso without the slightest scruple. We have an excellent gentleman in thisparish; he often dines here; and I am sure he would be most happy toattend you. I know that Holy Week is not wholly disregarded by some ofthe Anglicans. "

"It is the anniversary of the greatest event of time, " said Lothair;"and I should be sorry if any of my Church did not entirely regard it, though they may show that regard in a way different from your own. "

"Yes, yes, " murmured Lady St. Jerome; "there should be no differencebetween our Churches, if things were only properly understood. I wouldaccept all who really bow to the name of Christ; they will come to theChurch at last; they must. It is the atheists alone, I fear, who are nowcarrying every thing before them, and against whom there is no comfort, except the rock of St. Peter. "

Miss Arundel crossed the room, whispered something to her aunt, andtouched her forehead with her lips, and then left the apartment. 

"We must soon separate, I fear, " said Lady St. Jerome; "we have anoffice to-night of great moment; the Tenebrae commence to-night. Youhave, I think, nothing like it; but you have services throughout thisweek. "

"I am sorry to say I have not attended them, " said Lothair. "I didat Oxford; but I don't know how it is, but in London there seems noreligion. And yet, as you sometimes say, religion is the great businessof life; I sometimes begin to think the only business. "

"Yes, yes, " said Lady St. Jerome, with much interest, "if you believethat you are safe. I wish you had a clergyman near you while you arehere. See Mr. Claughton, if you like; I would; and, if you do not, thereis Father Coleman. I cannot convey to you how satisfactory conversationis with him on religious matters. He is the holiest of men, and yet heis a man of the world; he will not invite you into any controversies. Hewill speak with you only on points on which we agree. You know there aremany points on which we agree?"

"Happily, " said Lothair. "And now about the office to-night: tell meabout these Tenebrae. Is there any thing in the Tenebrae why I ought notto be present?"

"No reason whatever; not a dogma which you do not believe; not aceremony of which you cannot approve. There are Psalms, at the end ofwhich a light on the altar is extinguished. There is the Song of Moses, the Canticle of Zachary, the Miserere--which is the 50th Psalm you readand chant regularly in your church--the Lord's Prayer in silence; andthen all is darkness and distress--what the Church was when our Lordsuffered, what the whole world is now except His Church. "

"If you will permit me, " said Lothair, "I will accompany you to theTenebrae. "

Although the chapel at Vauxe was, of course, a private chapel, it wasopen to the surrounding public, who eagerly availed themselves of apermission alike politic and gracious. 

Nor was that remarkable. Manifold art had combined to create thisexquisite temple, and to guide all its ministrations. But to-nightit was not the radiant altar and the splendor of stately priests, the processions and the incense, the divine choir and the celestialharmonies resounding lingering in arched roofs, that attracted manya neighbor. The altar was desolate, the choir was dumb; and while theservices proceeded in hushed tones of subdued sorrow, and sometimes evenof suppressed anguish, gradually, with each psalm and canticle, a lightof the altar was extinguished, till at length the Miserere was muttered, and all became darkness. A sound as of a distant and rising wind washeard, and a crash, as it were the fall of trees in a storm. The earthis covered with darkness, and the veil of the temple is rent. But justat this moment of extreme woe, when all human voices are silent, and when it is forbidden even to breathe "Amen"--when every thing issymbolical of the confusion and despair of the Church at the loss of herexpiring Lord--a priest brings forth a concealed light of silveryflame from a corner of the altar. This is the light of the world, andannounced the resurrection, and then all rise up and depart in silence. 

As Lothair rose, Miss Arundel passed him with streaming eyes. 

"There is nothing in this holy office, " said Father Coleman to Lothair, "to which every real Christian might not give his assent. "

"Nothing, " said Lothair, with great decision. 

CHAPTER 15

There were Tenebrae on the following days, Maundy Thursday and GoodFriday, and Lothair was present on both occasions. 

"There is also a great office on Friday, " said Father Coleman toLothair, "which perhaps you would not like to attend--the mass of thepre-sanctified. We bring back the blessed sacrament to the desolatealtar, and unveil the cross. It is one of our highest ceremonies, the adoration of the cross, which the Protestants persist in callingidolatry, though I presume they will give us leave to know the meaningof our own words and actions, and hope they will believe us when we tellthem that our genuflexions and kissing of the cross are no more thanexterior expressions of that love which we bear in our hearts to Jesuscrucified; and that the words adoration and adore, as applied tothe cross, only signify that respect and veneration due to thingsimmediately relating to God and His service. "

"I see no idolatry in it, " said Lothair, musingly. 

"No impartial person could, " rejoined Father Coleman; "but unfortunatelyall these prejudices were imbibed when the world was not so wellinformed as at present. A good deal of mischief has been done, too, bythe Protestant versions of the Holy Scriptures; made in a hurry, and bymen imperfectly acquainted with the Eastern tongues, and quite ignorantof Eastern manners. All the accumulated research and investigation ofmodern times have only illustrated and justified the offices of theChurch. "

"That is very interesting, " said Lothair. 

"Now, this question of idolatry, " said Father Coleman, "that is afertile subject of misconception. The house of Israel was raised upto destroy idolatry because idolatry thou meant dark images of Molochopening their arms by machinery, and flinging the beauteous first-bornof the land into their huge forms, which were furnaces of fire; orAshtaroth, throned in moonlit groves, and surrounded by orgies ofineffable demoralization. It required the declared will of God to redeemman from such fatal iniquity, which would have sapped the human race. But to confound such deeds with the commemoration of God's saints, whoare only pictured because their lives are perpetual incentives to purityand holiness, and to declare that the Queen of Heaven and the Mother ofGod should be to human feeling only as a sister of charity or a gleanerin the fields, is to abuse reason and to outrage the heart. "

"We live in dark times, " said Lothair, with an air of distress. 

"Not darker than before the deluge, " exclaimed Father Coleman; "notdarker than before the nativity; not darker even than when the saintsbecame martyrs. There is a Pharos in the world, and, its light willnever be extinguished, however black the clouds and wild the waves. Manis on his trial now, not the Church; but in the service of the Churchhis highest energies may be developed, and his noblest qualitiesproved. "

Lothair seemed plunged in thought, and Father Coleman glided away asLady St. Jerome entered the gallery, shawled and bonneted, accompaniedby another priest, Monsignore Catesby. 

Catesby was a youthful member of an ancient English house, which formany generations had without a murmur, rather in a spirit of triumph, made every worldly sacrifice for the Church and court of Rome. For thatcause they had forfeited their lives, broad estates, and all thehonors of a lofty station in their own land. Reginald Catesby, withconsiderable abilities, trained with consummate skill, inheritedtheir determined will, and the traditionary beauty of their form andcountenance. His manners were winning, and, he was as well informed inthe ways of the world as he was in the works of the great casuists. 

"My lord has ordered the charbanc, and is going to drive us all toChart, where we will lunch, " said Lady St. Jerome; "'tis a curiousplace, and was planted, only seventy years ago, by my lord'sgrandfather, entirely with spruce-firs, but with so much care and skill, giving each plant and tree ample distance, that they have risen to thenoblest proportions, with all their green branches far-spreading on theground like huge fans. "

It was only a drive of three or four miles entirely in the park. Thiswas a district that had been added to the ancient enclosure--a strikingscene. It was a forest of firs, but quite unlike such as might be metwith in the north of Europe or of America. Every tree was perfect--hugeand complete, and full of massy grace. Nothing else was permitted togrow there except juniper, of which there were abounding and wondrousgroups, green and spiral; the whole contrasting with the tall brownfern, of which there were quantities about, cut for the deer. 

The turf was dry and mossy, and the air pleasant. It was a balmyday. They sat down by the great trees, the servants opened theluncheon-baskets, which were a present from Balmoral. Lady St. Jeromewas seldom seen to greater advantage than distributing her viands undersuch circumstances. Never was such gay and graceful hospitality. Lothair was quite fascinated as she playfully thrust a paper oflobster-sandwiches into his hand, and enjoined Monsignore Catesby tofill his tumbler with Chablis. 

"I wish Father Coleman were here, " said Lothair to Miss Arundel. 

"Why?" said Miss Arundel. 

"Because we were in the midst of a very interesting conversation onidolatry and on worship in groves, when Lady St. Jerome summoned us toour drive. This seems a grove where one might worship. "

"Father Coleman ought to be at Rome, " said Miss Arundel. "He was to havepassed Holy Week there. I know not why he changed his plans. "

"Are you angry with him for it?"

"No, not angry, but surprised; surprised that any one might be at Rome, and yet be absent from it. "

"You like Rome?"

"I have never been there. It is the wish of my life. "

"May I say to you what you said to me just now--why?"

"Naturally, because I would wish to witness the ceremonies of the Churchin their most perfect form. "

"But they are fulfilled in this country, I have heard, with muchsplendor and precision. "

Miss Arundel shook her head. 

"Oh! no, " she said; "in this country we are only just emerging from thecatacombs. If the ceremonies of the Church were adequately fulfilled inEngland, we should hear very little of English infidelity. "

"That is saying a great deal, " observed Lothair, inquiringly. 

"Had I that command of wealth of which we hear so much in the presentday, and with which the possessors seem to know so little what to do, Iwould purchase some of those squalid streets in Westminster, which arethe shame of the metropolis, and clear a great space and build a realcathedral, where the worship of heaven should be perpetually conductedin the full spirit of the ordinances of the Church. I believe, were thisdone, even this country might be saved. "

CHAPTER 16

Lothair began to meditate on two great ideas--the reconciliation ofChristendom, and the influence of architecture on religion. If thedifferences between the Roman and Anglican Churches, and between thepapacy and Protestantism generally arose, as Father Coleman assuredhim, and seemed to prove, in mere misconception, reconciliation, thoughdifficult, did not seem impossible, and appeared to be one of the mostefficient modes of defeating the atheists. It was a result which, ofcourse, mainly depended on the authority of Reason; but the power ofthe imagination might also be enlisted in the good cause through theinfluence of the fine arts, of which the great mission is to excite, and at the same time elevate, the feelings of the human family. Lothairfound himself frequently in a reverie over Miss Arundel's ideal fane;and, feeling that he had the power of buying up a district in forlornWestminster, and raising there a temple to the living God, which mightinfluence the future welfare of millions, and even effect the salvationof his country, he began to ask himself whether he could incur theresponsibility of shrinking from the fulfilment of this great duty. 

Lothair could not have a better adviser on the subject of the influenceof architecture on religion than Monsignore Catesby. Monsignore Catesbyhad been a pupil of Pugin; his knowledge of ecclesiastical architecturewas only equalled by his exquisite taste. To hear him expound themysteries of symbolical art, and expatiate on the hidden revelationsof its beauteous forms, reached even to ecstasy. Lothair hung upon hisaccents like a neophyte. Conferences with Father Coleman on those pointsof faith on which they did not differ, followed up by desultory remarkson those points of faith on which they ought not to differ--criticaldiscussions with Monsignore Catesby on cathedrals, their forms, theirpurposes, and the instances in several countries in which those formswere most perfect and those purposes best secured--occupied a good dealof time; and yet these engaging pursuits were secondary in real emotionto his frequent conversations with Miss Arundel in whose society everyday he took a strange and deeper interest. 

She did not extend to him that ready sympathy which was supplied bythe two priests. On the contrary, when he was apt to indulge in thosespeculations which they always encouraged, and rewarded by adroitapplause, she was often silent, throwing on him only the scrutinyof those violet yes, whose glance was rather fascinating than apt tocaptivate. And yet he was irresistibly drawn to her, and, once recallingthe portrait in the gallery, he ventured to murmur that they werekinsfolk. 

"Oh! I have no kin, no country, " said Miss Arundel. "These are not timesfor kin and country. I have given up all these things for my Master!"

"But are our times so trying as that?" inquired Lothair. 

"They are times for new crusades, " said Miss Arundel, with energy, "though it may be of a different character from the old. If I were aman, I would draw my sword for Christ. There are as great deeds tobe done as the siege of Ascalon, or even as the freeing of the HolySepulchre. "

In the midst of a profound discussion with Father Coleman on Mariolatry, Lothair, rapt in reverie, suddenly introduced the subject of MissArundel. "I wonder what will be her lot?" he exclaimed. 

"It seems to, me to be settled, " said Father Coleman. "She will be thebride of the Church. "

"Indeed?" and he started, and even changed color. 

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

"And yet, with such gifts, to be immured in a convent, " said Lothair. 

"That would not necessarily follow, " replied Father Coleman. "MissArundel may occupy a position in which she may exercise much influencefor the great cause which absorbs her being. "

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

"If Miss Arundel could meet with a spirit as and as energetic as herown, " said Father. Coleman, "Her fate might be different. She has nothoughts which are not great, and no purposes which are not sublime. Butfor the companion of her life she would require no less than a Godfreyde Bouillon. "

Lothair began to find the time pass very rapidly at Vauxe. Easter weekhad nearly vanished; Vauxe had been gay during the last few days. Everyday some visitors came down from London; sometimes they returned in theevening; sometimes they passed the night at Vauxe, and returned to townin the morning with large bouquets. Lothair felt it was time for him tointerfere, and he broke his intention to Lady St. Jerome; but Lady St. Jerome would not hear of it. So he muttered something about business. 

"Exactly, " she said; "everybody has business, and I dare say you havea great deal. But Vauxe is exactly the place for persons who havebusiness. You go up to town by an early train, and then you returnexactly in time for dinner, and bring us all the news from the clubs. "

Lothair was beginning to say something, but Lady St. Jerome, who, whennecessary, had the rare art of not listening without offending thespeaker, told him that they did not intend themselves to return to townfor a week or so, and that she knew Lord St. Jerome would be greatlyannoyed if Lothair did not remain. 

Lothair remained; and he went up to town one or two mornings to transactbusiness; that is to say, to see a celebrated architect and to orderplans for a cathedral, in which all the purposes of those sublime andexquisite structures were to be realized. The drawings would take aconsiderable time to prepare, and these must be deeply considered. SoLothair became quite domiciliated at Vauxe: he went up to town in themorning, and returned, as it were, to his home; everybody delighted towelcome him, and yet he seemed not expected. His rooms were called afterhis name; and the household treated him as one of the family. 

CHAPTER 17

A few days before Lothair's visit was to terminate, the cardinal andMonsignore Berwick arrived at Vauxe. His eminence was received with muchceremony; the marshalled household, ranged in lines, fell on theirknees at his approach, and Lady St. Jerome, Miss Arundel, and someother ladies, scarcely less choice and fair, with the lowest obeisance, touched, with their honored lips, his princely hand. 

The monsignore had made another visit to Paris on his intended returnto Rome, but, in consequence of some secret intelligence which he hadacquired in the French capital, had thought fit to return to Englandto consult with the cardinal. There seemed to be no doubt that therevolutionary party in Italy, assured by the withdrawal of the Frenchtroops from Rome, were again stirring. There seemed also little doubtthat London was the centre of preparation, though the project and theprojectors were involved in much, mystery. "They want money, " saidthe monsignore; "that we know, and that is now our best chance. TheAspromonte expedition drained their private resources; and as forfurther aid, that is out of the question; the galantuomo is bankrupt. But the atheists are desperate, and we must prepare for events. "

On the morning after their arrival, the cardinal invited Lothair to astroll in the park. "There is the feeling of spring this morning, " saidhis eminence, "though scarcely yet its vision. " It was truly a day ofbalm, and sweetness, and quickening life; a delicate mist hung about thehuge trees and the masses of more distant woods, and seemed to clothethem with that fulness of foliage which was not yet theirs. The cardinaldiscoursed much on forest-trees, and, happily. He recommended Lothair toread Evelyn's "Sylva. " Mr. Evelyn had a most accomplished mind; indeed, a character in every respect that approached perfection. He was also amost religious man. 

"I wonder, " said Lothair, "how any man who is religious can think of anything but religion. "

"True, " said the cardinal, and looking at him earnestly, "most true. Butall things that are good and beautiful make us more religious. They tendto the development of the religious principle in us, which is our divinenature. And, my dear young friend, " and here his eminence put his armeasily and affectionately into that of Lothair, "it is a most happything for you, that you live so much with a really religious family. Itis a great boon for a young man, and a rare one. "

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

"Ah!" said the cardinal, "when we remember that this country onceconsisted only of such families!" And then, with a sigh, and as ifspeaking to himself, "And they made it so great and so beautiful!"

"It is still great and beautiful, " said Lothair, but rather in a tone ofinquiry than decision. 

"But the cause of its greatness and its beauty no longer exists. Itbecame great and beautiful because it believed in God. "

"But faith is not extinct?" said Lothair. 

"It exists in the Church, " replied the cardinal, with decision. "Allwithout that pale is practical atheism. "

"It seems to me that a sense of duty is natural to man, " said Lothair, "and that there can be no satisfaction in life without attempting tofulfil it. "

"Noble words, my dear young friend; noble and true. And the highestduty of man, especially in this age, is to vindicate the principles ofreligion, without which the world must soon become a scene of universaldesolation. "

"I wonder if England will ever again be a religious country?" saidLothair, musingly. 

"I pray for that daily, " said the cardinal; and he invited his companionto seat himself on the trunk of an oak that had been lying theresince the autumn fall. A slight hectic flame played over the pale andattenuated countenance of the cardinal; he seemed for a moment in deepthought; and then, in a voice distinct yet somewhat hushed, and at firstrather faltering, he said: "I know not a grander, or a nobler career, for a young man of talents and position in this age, than to be thechampion and asserter of Divine truth. It is not probable that therecould be another conqueror in out time. The world is wearied ofstatesmen; whom democracy has degraded into politicians, and of oratorswho have become what they call debaters. I do not believe there couldbe another Dante, even another Milton. The world is devoted to physicalscience, because it believes these discoveries will increase itscapacity of luxury and self-indulgence. But the pursuit of science leadsonly to the insoluble. When we arrive at that barren term, the Divinevoice summons man, as it summoned Samuel; all the poetry and passion andsentiment of human nature are taking refuge in religion; and he, whosedeeds and words most nobly represent Divine thoughts, will be the man ofthis century. "

"But who could be equal to such a task?" murmured Lothair. 

"Yourself, " exclaimed the cardinal, and he threw his glittering eye uponhis companion. "Any one with the necessary gifts, who had implicit faithin the Divine purpose. "

"But the Church is perplexed; it is ambiguous, contradictory. "

"No, no, " said the cardinal; "not the Church of Christ; it is neverperplexed, never ambiguous, never contradictory. Why should it be? Howcould it be? The Divine persons are ever with it, strengthening andguiding it with perpetual miracles. Perplexed churches are churches madeby Act of Parliament, not by God. "

Lothair seemed to start, and looked at his guardian with a scrutinizingglance. And then he said, but not without hesitation, "I experience attimes great despondency. "

"Naturally, " replied the cardinal. "Every man must be despondent who isnot a Christian. "

"But I am a Christian, " said Lothair. 

"A Christian estranged, " said the cardinal; "a Christian without theconsolations of Christianity. "

"There is something in that, " said Lothair. "I require the consolationsof Christianity, and yet I feel I have them not. Why is this?"

"Because what you call your religion is a thing apart from your life, and it ought to be your life. Religion should be the rule of life, nota casual incident of it. There is not a duty of existence, not a joyor sorrow which the services of the Church do not assert, or with whichthey do not sympathize. Tell me, now; you have, I was glad to hear, attended the services of the Church of late, since you have been underthis admirable roof. Have you not then found some consolation?"

"Yes; without doubt I have been often solaced. " And Lothair sighed. 

"What the soul is to man, the Church is to the world, " said thecardinal. "It is the link between us and the Divine nature. It camefrom heaven complete; it has never changed, and it can never alter. Itsceremonies are types of celestial truths; its services are suited to allthe moods of man; they strengthen him in his wisdom and his purity, andcontrol and save him in the hour of passion and temptation. Taken asa whole, with all its ministrations, its orders, its offices, and thedivine splendor of its ritual, it secures us on earth some adumbrationof that ineffable glory which awaits the faithful in heaven, where theblessed Mother of God and ten thousand saints perpetually guard over nowith Divine intercession. "

"I was not taught these things in my boyhood, " said Lothair. 

"And you might reproach me, and reasonably, as your guardian, for myneglect, " said the cardinal. "But my power was very limited, and, whenmy duties commenced, you must remember that I was myself estranged fromthe Church, I was myself a Parliamentary Christian, till despondency andstudy and ceaseless thought and prayer, and the Divine will, broughtme to light and rest. But I at least saved you from a Presbyterianuniversity; I at least secured Oxford for you; and I can assure you, ofmy many struggles, that was not the least. "

"It gave the turn to my mind, " said Lothair, "and I am grateful to youfor it. What it will all end in, God only knows. "

"It will end in His glory and in yours, " said the cardinal. "I havespoken, perhaps, too much and too freely, but you greatly interest me, not merely because you are my charge, and the son of my beloved friend, but because I perceive in you great qualities--qualities so great, "continued the cardinal with earnestness, "that properly guided, they mayconsiderably affect the history of this country, and perhaps even have awider range. "

Lothair shook his head. 

"Well, well, " continued the cardinal in a lighter tone, "we will pursueour ramble. At any rate, I am not wrong in this, that you have noobjection to join in my daily prayer for the conversion of this kingdomto--religious truth, " his eminence added after a pause. 

"Yes religious truth, " said Lothair, "we must all pray for that. "

CHAPTER 18

Lothair returned to town excited and agitated. He felt that he was onthe eve of some great event in his existence, but its precise characterwas not defined. One conclusion, however, was indubitable: life mustbe religion; when we consider what is at stake, and that our eternalwelfare depends on our due preparation for the future, it was folly tospare a single hour from the consideration of the best means to secureour readiness. Such a subject does not admit of half measures or ofhalting opinions. It seemed to Lothair that nothing could interest himin life that was not symbolical of divine truths and an adumbration ofthe celestial hereafter. 

Could truth have descended from heaven ever to be distorted, to becorrupted, misapprehended, misunderstood? Impossible! Such a beliefwould confound and contradict all the attributes of the All-wise and theAll-mighty. There must be truth on earth now as fresh and complete is itwas at Bethlehem. And how could it be preserved but by the influenceof the Paraclete acting on an ordained class? On this head his tutor atOxford had fortified him; by a conviction of the Apostolical successionof the English bishops, which no Act of Parliament could alter oraffect. But Lothair was haunted by a feeling that the relations of hisCommunion with the Blessed Virgin were not satisfactory. They couldnot content either his heart or his intellect. Was it becoming that aChristian should live as regards the hallowed Mother of his God in acondition of harsh estrangement? What mediatorial influence more awfullyappropriate than the consecrated agent of the mighty mystery? Nor couldhe, even in his early days, accept without a scruple the frigid systemthat would class the holy actors in the divine drama of the Redemptionas mere units in the categories of vanished generations. Human beingswho had been in personal relation with the Godhead must be differentfrom other human beings. There must be some transcendent quality intheir lives and careers, in their very organization, which marks themout from all secular heroes. What was Alexander the Great, or even CaiusJulius, compared with that apostle whom Jesus loved?

Restless and disquieted, Lothair paced the long and lofty rooms whichhad been secured for him in a London hotel which rivalled the colossalconvenience of Paris and the American cities. Their tawdry ornamentsand their terrible new furniture would not do after the galleries andportraits of Vauxe. Lothair sighed. 

Why did that visit ever end? Why did the world consist of any thing elsebut Tudor palaces in ferny parks, or time be other than a perpetual HolyWeek? He never sighed at Vauxe. Why? He supposed it was because theirreligion was his life, and here--and he looked around him with ashudder. The cardinal was right: it was a most happy thing for him to beliving so much with so truly a religious family. 

The door opened, and servants came in bearing a large and magnificentportfolio. It was of morocco and of prelatial purple with broad bands ofgold and alternate ornaments of a cross and a coronet. A servant handedto Lothair a letter, which enclosed the key that opened its lock. Theportfolio contained the plans and drawings of the cathedral. 

Lothair was lost in admiration of these designs and their execution. Butafter the first fever of investigation was over, he required sympathyand also information. In a truly religious family there would always bea Father Coleman or a Monsignore Catesby to guide and to instruct. But aProtestant, if he wants aid or advice on any matter, can only go to hissolicitor. But as he proceeded in his researches he sensibly feltthat the business was one above even an oratorian or a monsignore. Itrequired a finer and a more intimate sympathy; a taste at the sametime more inspired and more inspiring; some one who blended with divineconvictions the graceful energy of human feeling, and who would notonly animate him to effort but fascinate him to its fulfilment. Thecounsellor he required was Miss Arundel. 

Lothair had quitted Vauxe one week, and it seemed to him a year. Duringthe first four-and-twenty hours he felt like a child who had returned toschool, and, the day after, like a man on a desert island. Variousother forms of misery and misfortune were suggested by his succeedingexperience. Town brought no distractions to him; he knew very fewpeople, and these be had not yet encountered; he had once ventured toWhite's, but found only a group of gray-beaded men, who evidently didnot know him, and who seemed to scan him with cynical nonchalance. Thesewere not the golden youth whom he had been assured by Bertram wouldgreet him; so, after reading a newspaper for a moment upside downward, he got away. But he had no harbor of refuge, and was obliged to ridedown to Richmond and dine alone, and meditate on symbols and celestialadumbrations. Every day he felt how inferior was this existence to thatof a life in a truly religious family. 

But, of all the members of the family to which his memory recurred withsuch unflagging interest, none more frequently engaged his thoughts thanMiss Arundel. Her conversation, which stimulated his intelligence whileit rather piqued his self-love, exercised a great influence over him, and he had omitted no opportunity of enjoying her society. That societyand its animating power he sadly missed; and now that he had before himthe very drawings about which they had frequently talked, and she wasnot by his side to suggest and sympathize and criticism and praise, hefelt unusually depressed. 

Lothair corresponded with Lady St. Jerome, and was aware of her intendedmovements. But the return the family to London had been somewhatdelayed. When this disappointment was first made known to him, hisimpulse was to ride down to Vauxe; but the tact in which he was notdeficient assured him that he ought not to reappear on a stage where hehad already figured for perhaps too considerable a time, and so anotherweek had to be passed, softened, however, by visits from the father ofthe oratory and the chamberlain of his holiness, who came to look afterLothair with much friendliness, and with whom it was consolatory andeven delightful for him to converse on sacred art, still holier things, and also Miss Arundel. 

At length, though it seemed impossible, this second week elapsed, andto-morrow Lothair was to lunch with Lady St. Jerome in St. James'sSquare, and to meet all his friends. He thought of it all day, and hepassed a restless night. He took an early canter to rally his energies, and his fancy was active in the splendor of the spring. The chestnutswere in silver bloom, and the pink May had flushed the thorns, and banksof sloping turf were radiant with plots of gorgeous flowers. The watersglittered in the sun, and the air was fragrant with that spell whichonly can be found in metropolitan mignonette. It was the hour and theseason when heroic youth comes to great decisions, achieves exploits, orperpetrates scrapes. 

Nothing could be more cordial, nothing more winning, than the receptionof Lothair by Lady St. Jerome. She did not conceal her joy at theirbeing again together. Even Miss Arundel, though still calm, even alittle demure, seemed glad to see him: her eyes looked kind and pleased, and she gave him her hand with graceful heartiness. It was the sacredhour of two when Lothair arrived, and they were summoned to luncheonalmost immediately. Then they were not alone; Lord St. Jerome was notthere, but the priests were present and some others. Lothair, however, sat next to Miss Arundel. 

"I have been thinking of you very often since I left Vauxe, " saidLothair to his neighbor. 

"Charitably, I am sure. "

"I have been thinking of you every day, " he continued, "for I wantedyour advice. "

"Ah! but that is not a popular thing to give. "

"But it is precious--at least, yours is to me--and I want it now verymuch. "

"Father Coleman told me you had got the plans for the cathedral, " saidMiss Arundel. 

"And I want to show them to you. "

"I fear I am only a critic, " said Miss Arundel, "and I do not admiremere critics. I was very free in my comments to you on several subjectsat Vauxe; and I must now say I thought you bore it very kindly. "

"I was enchanted, " said Lothair, "and desire nothing but to be eversubject to such remarks. But this affair of the cathedral, it is yourown thought--I would fain hope your own wish, for unless it were yourown wish I do not think I ever should be able to accomplish it. "

"And when the cathedral is built, " said Miss Arundel "what then?"

"Do you not remember telling me at Vauxe that all sacred buildingsshould be respected, for that in the long-run they generally fell to theprofessors of the true faith?"

"But when they built St. Peter's, they dedicated it to a saint inheaven, " said Miss Arundel. "To whom is yours to be inscribed?"

"To a saint in heaven and in earth, " said Lothair, blushing; "to St. Clare. "

But Lady St. Jerome and her guests rose at this moment, and it isimpossible to say with precision whether this last remark of Lothairabsolutely reached the ear of Miss Arundel. She looked as if it hadnot. The priests and the other guests dispersed. Lothair accompanied theladies to the drawing-room; he lingered, and he was meditating if theoccasion served to say more. 

Lady St. Jerome was writing a note, Mss Arundel was arranging some work, Lothair was affecting an interest in her employment in order that hemight be seated by her and ask her questions, when the groom of thechambers entered and inquired whether her ladyship was at home, andbeing answered in the affirmative, retired, and announced and ushered inthe duchess and Lady Corisande. 

CHAPTER 19

It seemed that the duchess and Lady St. Jerome were intimate, for theycalled each other by their Christian names, and kissed each other. The young ladies also were cordial. Her grace greeted Lothair withheartiness; Lady Corisande with some reserve. Lothair thought she lookedvery radiant and very proud. 

It was some time since they had all met--not since the end of the lastseason--so there was a great deal to talk about. There had been deathsand births and marriages which required a flying comment--all importantevents; deaths which solved many difficulties, heirs to estates whichwere not expected, and weddings which surprised everybody. 

"And have you seen Selina?" inquired Lady St. Jerome. 

"Not yet; except mamma, this is our first visit, " replied the duchess. 

"Ah! that is real friendship. She came down to Vauxe the other day, butI did not think she was looking well. She frets herself too much abouther boys; she does not know what to do with them. They will not go intothe Church, and they have no fortune for the Guards. "

"I understood that Lord Plantagenet was to be a civil engineer, " saidLady Corisande. 

"And Lord Albert Victor to have a sheep-walk in Australia, " continuedLady St. Jerome. 

"They say that a lord must not go to the bar, " said Miss Arundel. "Itseems to me very unjust. "

"Alfred Beaufort went the circuit, " said Lady Corisande, "but I believethey drove him into Parliament. "

"You will miss your friend Bertram at Oxford, " said the duchess, addressing Lothair. 

"Indeed, " said Lothair, rather confused, for he was himself a defaulterin collegiate attendance. "I was just going to write to him to seewhether one could not keep half a term. "

"Oh! nothing will prevent his taking his degree, " said the duchess, "butI fear there must be some delay. There is a vacancy for our county--Mr. Sandstone is dead, and they insist upon returning Bertram. I hope hewill be of age before the nomination. The duke is much opposed to it; hewishes him to wait; but in these days it is not so easy for young men toget into Parliament. It is not as it used to be; we cannot choose. "

"This is an important event, " said Lothair to Lady Corisande. 

"I think it is; nor do I believe Bertram is too young for public life. These are not times to be laggard. "

"There is no doubt they are very serious times, " said Lothair. 

"I have every confidence in Bertram--in his ability and his principles. "

The ladies began to talk about the approaching drawing-room and LadyCorisande's presentation, and Lothair thought it right to make hisobeisance and withdraw. He met in the hall Father Coleman, who was infact looking after him, and would have induced him to repair to thefather's room and hold some interesting conversation, but Lothair wasnot so congenial as usual. He was even abrupt, and the father, whonever pressed any thing, assuming that Lothair had some engagement, relinquished with a serene brow, but not without chagrin, what he haddeemed might have proved a golden opportunity. 

And yet Lothair had no engagement, and did not know where to go or whatto do with himself. But he wanted to be alone, and of all persons in theworld at that moment, he had a sort of instinct that the one he wishedleast to converse with was Father Coleman. 

"She has every confidence in his principles, " said Lothair to himself ashe mounted his horse, "and his principles were mine six months ago, whenI was at Brentham. Delicious Brentham! It seems like a dream; but everything seems like a dream; I hardly know whether life is agony or bliss. "

CHAPTER 20

The duke was one of the few gentlemen in, London who lived in a palace. One of the half-dozen of those stately structures that our capitalboasts had fallen to his lot. 

An heir-apparent to the throne, in the earlier days of the presentdynasty, had resolved to be lodged as became a prince, and had raised, amid gardens which he had diverted from one of the royal parks, anedifice not unworthy of Vicenza in its best days, though on a far moreextensive scale than any pile that favored city boasts. Before thepalace was finished, the prince died, and irretrievably in debt. Hisexecutors were glad to sell to the trustees of the ancestors of thechief of the house of Brentham the incomplete palace, which ought neverto have been commenced. The ancestor of the duke was by no means sostrong a man as the duke himself, and prudent people rather murmured atthe exploit. But it was what is called a lucky family--that is to say, a family with a charm that always attracted and absorbed heiresses; andperhaps the splendor of CRECY HOUSE--for it always retained its originaltitle--might have in some degree contributed to fascinate the taste orimagination of the beautiful women who, generation after generation, brought their bright castles and their broad manors to swell the stateand rent-rolls of the family who were so kind to Lothair. 

The centre of Crecy House consisted of a hall of vast proportion, andreaching to the roof. Its walls commemorated, in paintings by the mostcelebrated artists of the age, the exploits of the Black Prince; and itscoved ceiling, in panels resplendent with Venetian gold, containedthe forms and portraits of English heroes. A corridor round this hallcontained the most celebrated private collection of pictures in Englandand opened into a series of sumptuous saloons. 

It was a rather early hour when Lothair, the morning after his meetingthe duchess at Lady St. Jerome's, called at Crecy House; but it was onlyto leave his card. He would not delay for a moment paying his respectsthere, and yet he shrank from thrusting himself immediately into thecircle. The duke's brougham was in the court-yard. Lothair was holdinghis groom's horse, who had dismounted, when the hall-door opened, andhis grace and Bertram came forth. 

"Halloa, old fellow!" exclaimed Bertram, "only think of your being here. It seems an age since we met. The duchess was telling us about you atbreakfast. "

"Go in and see them, " said the duke, "there is a large party atluncheon; Augusta Montairy is there. Bertram and I are obliged to go toLincoln's Inn, something about his election. "

But Lothair murmured thanks and declined. 

"What are you going to do with yourself to-day?" said the duke. AndLothair hesitating, his grace continued: "Well, then, come and dine withus. "

"Of course you will come, old fellow. I have not seen you since you leftOxford at the beginning of the year. And then we can settle about yourterm. " And Lothair assenting, they drove away. 

It was nine o'clock before they dined. The days were getting very long, and soft, and sweet; the riding-parties lingered amid the pink May andthe tender twilight breeze. The Montairys dined to-day at Crecy House, and a charming married daughter without her husband, and Lord andLady Clanmorne, who were near kin to the duchess, and themselves sogood-looking and agreeable that they were as good at a dinner-party asa couple of first-rate entr es. There was also Lord Carisbrooke, a youngman of distinguished air and appearance; his own master, with a largeestate, and three years or so older than Lothair. 

They dined in the Chinese saloon, which was of moderate dimensions, butbright with fantastic forms and colors, brilliantly lit up. It was theprivilege of Lothair to hand the duchess to her seat. He observed thatLord Carisbrooke was placed next to Lady Corisande, though he had nottaken her out. 

"This dinner reminds me of my visit to Brentham, " said Lothair. 

"Almost the same party, " said the duchess. 

"The visit to Brentham was the happiest time of my life, " said Lothair, moodily. 

"But you have seen a great deal since, " said the duchess. 

"I am not a sure it is of any use seeing things, " said Lothair. 

When the ladies retired, there was some talk about horses. LordCarisbrooke was breeding; Lothair thought it was a duty to breed, butnot to go on the turf. Lord Carisbrooke thought there could be no goodbreeding without racing; Lothair was of opinion that races might beconfined to one's own parks, with no legs admitted, and immense prizes, which must cause emulation. Then they joined the ladies, and then, in ashort time, there was music. Lothair hovered about Lady Corisande, andat last seized a happy opportunity of addressing her. 

"I shall never forget your singing at Brentham, " he said; "at first Ithought it might be as Lady Montairy said, because I was not used tofine singing; but I heard the Venusina the other day, and I prefer yourvoice and style. "

"Have you heard the Venusina?" said Lady Corisande, with animation; "Iknow nothing that I look forward to with more interest. But I was toldshe was not to open her mouth until she appeared at the opera. Where didyou hear her?"

"Oh, I heard her, " said Lothair, "at the Roman Catholic cathedral. "

"I am sure I shall never hear her there, " said Lady Corisande, lookingvery grave. 

"Do not you think music a powerful accessory to religion?" said Lothair, but a little embarrassed. 

"Within certain limits, " said Lady Corisande--"the limits I am used to;but I should prefer to hear opera-singers at the opera. "

"Ah! if all amateurs could sing like you, " said Lothair, "that would beunnecessary. But a fine mass by Mozart--it requires great skill as wellas power to render it. I admire no one so much as Mozart, and especiallyhis masses. I have been hearing a great many of them lately. "

"So we understood, " said Lady Corisande, rather dryly, and lookingabout her as if she were not much interested, or at any rate not muchgratified by the conversation. 

Lothair felt he was not getting on, and he wished to get on, but he wassocially inexperienced, and his resources not much in hand. There was apause--it seemed to him an awkward pause; and then Lady Corisande walkedaway and addressed Lady Clanmorne. 

Some very fine singing began at this moment; the room was hushed, noone moved, and Lothair, undisturbed, had the opportunity of watching hislate companion. There was something in Lady Corisande that to him wasirresistibly captivating; and as he was always thinking and analyzing, he employed himself in discovering the cause. "She is not particularlygracious, " he said to himself, "at least not to me; she is beautiful, but so are others; and others, like her, are clever--perhaps moreclever. But there is something in her brow, her glance, her carriage, which intimate what they call character, which interests me. Six monthsago I was in love with her, because I thought she was like her sisters. I love her sisters, but she is not the least like them. "

The music ceased; Lothair moved away, and he approached the duke. 

"I have a favor to ask your grace, " he said. "I have made up my mindthat I shall not go back to Oxford this term; would your grace do me thegreat favor of presenting me at the next lev e?"

CHAPTER 21

One's life changes in a moment. Half a month ago, Lothair, without anacquaintance, was meditating his return to Oxford. Now he seemed to knoweverybody who was anybody. His table was overflowing with invitations toall the fine houses in town. First came the routs and the balls; then, when he had been presented to the husbands, came the dinners. His kindfriends the duchess and Lady St. Jerome were the fairies which hadworked this sudden scene of enchantment. A single word from them, andLondon was at Lothair's feet. 

He liked it amazingly. He quite forgot the conclusion at which he hadarrived respecting society a year ago, drawn from his vast experience ofthe single party which he had then attended. Feelings are different whenyou know a great many persons, and every person is trying to please you;above all, when there are individuals whom you want to meet, and whom, if you do not meet, you become restless. 

Town was beginning to blaze. Broughams whirled and bright barouchesglanced, troops of social cavalry cantered and caracolled in morningrides, and the bells of prancing ponies, lashed by delicate hands, jingled in the laughing air. There were stoppages in Bond Street, which seems to cap the climax of civilization, after crowded clubs andswarming parks. 

But the great event of the season was the presentation of LadyCorisande. Truly our bright maiden of Brentham woke and found herselffamous. There are families whom everybody praises, and families who aretreated in a different way. Either will do; all the sons and daughtersof the first succeed; all the sons and daughters of the last areencouraged in perverseness by the prophetic determination of society. Half a dozen married sisters, who were the delight and ornament oftheir circles, in the case of Lady Corisande were good precursors ofpopularity; but the world would not be content with that: they creditedher with all their charms and winning qualities, but also with somethinggrander and supreme; and from the moment her fair cheek was sealed bythe gracious approbation of majesty, all the critics of the court atonce recognized her as the cynosure of the empyrean. 

Monsignore Catesby, who looked after Lothair, and was alwaysbreakfasting with him without the necessity of an invitation--afascinating man, and who talked upon all subjects except high mass--knewevery thing that took place at court without being himself. He led theconversation to the majestic theme, and while he seemed to be busiedin breaking an egg with delicate precision, and hardly listening to thefrank expression of opinions which he carelessly encouraged, obtaineda not insufficient share of Lothair's views and impressions of humanbeings and affairs in general during the last few days, which hadwitnessed a leve and a drawing-room. 

"Ah! then, you were so fortunate as to know the beauty before her debutbut, " said the monsignore. 

"Intimately; her brother is my friend. I was at Brentham last summer. Delicious place! and the most agreeable visit I ever made in my life--atleast, one of the most agreeable. "

"Ah, ah!" said the monsignore. "Let me ring for some toast. "

On the I night of the drawing-room a great ball was given at CrecyHouse, to celebrate the entrance of Corisande into the world. It was asumptuous festival. The palace, resonant with fantastic music, blazedamid illumined gardens rich with summer warmth. 

A prince of the blood was dancing with Lady Corisande. Lothair wasthere, vis-a-vis with Miss Arundel. 

"I delight in this hall, " she said to Lothair; "but how superior thepictured scene to the reality!"

"What! would you like, then, to be in a battle?"

"I should like to be with heroes, wherever they might be. What a finecharacter was the Black Prince! And they call those days the days ofsuperstition!"

The silver horns sounded a brave flourish. Lothair had to advance andmeet Lady Corisande. Her approaching mien was full of grace and majesty, but Lothair thought there was a kind expression in her glance, whichseemed to remember Brentham, and, that he was her brother's friend. 

A little later in the evening he was her partner. He could not refrainfrom congratulating her on the beauty and the success of the festival. 

"I am glad you are pleased, and I am glad you think it successful; but, you know, I am no judge, for this is my first ball!"

"Ah! to be sure; and yet it seems impossible, " he contended, in a toneof murmuring admiration. 

"Oh! I have been at little dances at my sisters'--half behind the door, "she added, with a slight smile. "But to-night I am present at a scene ofwhich I have only read. "

"And how do you like balls?" said Lothair. 

"I think I shall like them very much, " said Lady Corisande; "butto-night, I will confess, I am a little nervous. "

"You do not look so. "

"I am glad of that. "

"Why?"

"Is it not a sign of weakness?"

"Can feeling be weakness?"

"Feeling without sufficient cause is, I should think. " And then, and ina tone of some archness, she said, "And how do you like balls?"

"Well, I like them amazingly, " said Lothair. "They seem to me to haveevery quality which can render an entertainment agreeable: music, light, flowers, beautiful faces, graceful forms, and occasionally charmingconversation. "

"Yes; and that never lingers, " said Lady Corisande, "for see, I amwanted. "

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

"It is a great disappointment, " said Lady Corisande; "but he will yetarrive, though late. I should be most unhappy, though, if he were absentfrom his post on such an occasion. I am sure if he were here, I couldnot dance. "

"You are a most ardent politician, " said Lothair. 

"Oh! I do not care in the least about common politics--parties, andoffice, and all that; I neither regard nor understand them, " repliedLady Corisande. "But when wicked men try to destroy the country, then Ilike my family to be in the front. "

As the destruction of the country meditated this night by wicked menwas some change in the status of the Church of England, which MonsignoreCatesby in the morning had suggested to Lothair as both just andexpedient and highly conciliatory, Lothair did not pursue the theme, for he had a greater degree of tact than usually falls to the lot of theingenuous. 

The bright moments flew on. Suddenly there was a mysterious silence inthe hall, followed by a kind of suppressed stir. Every one seemed: to bespeaking with bated breath, or, if moving, walking on tiptoe. It was thesupper-hour--

"Soft hour which wakes the wish and melts the heart. "

"Royalty, followed by the imperial presence of ambassadors, and escortedby a group of dazzli, not a casual incident of it. There is not a dutyof existence, not a joy or sorrow which the services of the Church donot assert, or with which they do not sympathize. Tell me, now; youhave, I was glad to hear, attended the services of the Church of late, since you have been under this admirable roof. Have you not then foundsome consolation?"

"Yes; without doubt I have been often solaced. " And Lothair sighed. 

"What the soul is to man, the Church is to the world, " said thecardinal. "It is the link between us and the Divine nature. It camefrom heaven complete; it has never changed, and it can never alter. Itsceremonies are types of celestial truths; its services are suited to allthe moods of man; they strengthen him in his wisdom and his purity, andcontrol and save him in the hour of passion and temptation. Taken asa whole, with all its ministrations, its orders, its offices, and thedivine splendor of its ritual, it secures us on earth some adumbrationof that ineffable glory which awaits the faithful in heaven, where theblessed Mother of God and ten thousand saints perpetually guard over nowith Divine intercession. "

"I was not taught these things in my boyhood, " said Lothair. 

"And you might reproach me, and reasonably, as your guardian, for myneglect, " said the cardinal. "But my power was very limited, and, whenmy duties commenced, you must remember that I was myself estranged fromthe Church, I was myself a Parliamentary Christian, till despondency andstudy and ceaseless thought and prayer, and the Divine will, broughtme to light and rest. But I at least saved you from a Presbyterianuniversity; I at least secured Oxford for you; and I can assure you, ofmy many struggles, that was not the least. "

"It gave the turn to my mind, " said Lothair, "and I am grateful to youfor it. What it will all end in, God only knows. "

"It will end in His glory and in yours, " said the cardinal. "I havespoken, and here is my chair. "

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

"I should have thought you would have been with the swells, " said HugoBohun. 

"That does not exactly suit me, " said St. Aldegonde. "I was ticketed tothe Duchess of Salop, but I got a first-rate substitute with the charmof novelty for her grace, and sent her in with Lothair. "

St. Aldegonde was the heir-apparent of the wealthiest, if not the mostancient, dukedom in the United Kingdom. He was spoiled, but he knewit. Had he been an ordinary being, he would have merely subsidedinto selfishness and caprice; but, having good abilities and agood disposition, he was eccentric, adventurous, and sentimental. Notwithstanding the apathy which had been engendered by prematureexperience, St. Aldegonde held extreme opinions, especially on politicalaffairs, being a republican of the reddest dye. He was opposed to allprivilege, and indeed to all orders of men, except dukes, who were anecessity. He was also strongly in favor of the equal division of allproperty, except land. Liberty depended on land, and the greater theland-owners, the greater the liberty of a country. He would hold forthon this topic even with energy, amazed at any one differing from him;"As if a fellow could have too much land, " he would urge, with a voiceand glance which defied contradiction. St. Aldegonde had married forlove, and he loved his wife, but he was strongly in favor of woman'srights and their extremest consequences. It was thought that he hadoriginally adopted these latter views with the amiable intention ofpiquing Lady St. Aldegonde; but if so, he had not succeeded. Beamingwith brightness, with the voice and airiness of a bird, and a cloudlesstemper, Albertha St. Aldegonde had from the first hour of her marriage, concentrated her intelligence, which was not mean, on one object; andthat was, never to cross her husband on any conceivable topic. They hadbeen married several years, and she treated him as a darling spoiledchild. When he cried for the moon, it was promised him immediately;however irrational his proposition, she always assented to it, thoughgenerally by tact and vigilance she guided him in the right direction. Nevertheless, St. Aldegonde was sometimes in scrapes; but then he alwayswent and told his best friend, whose greatest delight was to extricatehim from his perplexities and embarrassments. 

CHAPTER 22

Although Lothair was not in the slightest degree shaken in hisconviction that life should be entirely religious, he was perplexed bythe inevitable obstacles which seemed perpetually to oppose themselvesto the practice of his opinions. It was not merely pleasure in itsmultiform appearances that he had to contend against, but business beganimperiously to solicit his attention. Every month brought him nearer tohis majority, and the frequent letters from Mr. Putney Giles now beganto assume the pressing shape of solicitations for personal interviews. He had a long conversation one morning with Father Coleman on thissubject, who greatly relieved him by the assurance that a perfectlyreligious life was one of which the sovereign purpose was to uphold theinterests of the Church of Christ, the father added after a momentarypause. Business, and even amusement, were, not only compatible with sucha purpose, but might even be conducive to its fulfilment. 

Mr. Putney Giles reminded Lothair that the attainment of his majoritymust be celebrated, and in a becoming manner. Preparation, and evenconsiderable preparation, was necessary. There were several scenesof action--some very distant. It was not too early to contemplatearrangements. Lothair really must confer with his guardians. They wereboth now in town, the Scotch uncle having come up to attend Parliament. Could they be brought together? Was it indeed impossible? If so, whowas to give the necessary instructions?

It was much more than a year since Lothair had met his uncle, and he didnot anticipate much satisfaction from the renewal of their intimacy; butevery feeling of propriety demanded that it should be recognized, and toa certain degree revived. Lord Culloden was a black Scotchman, tall andlean, with good features, a hard red face and iron-gray hair. He was aman who shrank from scenes, and he greeted Lothair as if they had onlyparted yesterday. Looking at him with his keen, unsentimental, butnot unkind, eye, he said: "Well, sir, I thought you would have been atOxford. "

"Yes, my dear uncle; but circumstances--"

"Well, well, I don't want to hear the cause. I am very glad you are notthere; I believe you might as well be at Rome. "

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

"No, no, " said the Scotch peer, shaking his head; "I will have nothingto do with the Scarlet Lady. Mr. Giles is an able and worthy man; he maywell be trusted to draw up a programme for our consideration, and indeedit is an affair in which yourself should be most consulted. Let allbe done liberally, for you have a great inheritance, and I would be nocurmudgeon in these matters. "

"Well, my dear uncle, whatever is arranged, I hope you and mycousins will honor and gratify me with your presence throughout theproceedings. "

"Well, well, it is not much in my way. You will be having balls and fineladies. There is no fool like an old fool, they say; but I think, fromwhat I hear, the young fools will beat us in the present day. Only thinkof young persons going over to the Church of Rome. Why, they are justnaturals!"

The organizing genius of Mr. Putney Giles had rarely encountered a morefitting theme than the celebration of the impending majority. Therewas place for all his energy and talent and resources; a great centralinauguration; sympathetical festivals and gatherings in half a dozenother counties; the troth, as it were, of a sister kingdom to bepledged; a vista of balls and banquets, and illuminations and addresses, of ceaseless sports and speeches, and processions alike endless. 

"What I wish to effect, " said Mr. Giles, as he was giving hismultifarious orders, "is to produce among all classes an impressionadequate to the occasion. I wish the lord and the tenantry alike to feelthey have a duty to perform. "

In the mean time, Monsignore Catesby was pressing Lothair to become oneof the patrons of a Roman Catholic Bazaar, where Lady St. Jerome andMiss Arundel were to preside over a stall. It was of importance to showthat charity was not the privilege of any particular creed. 

Between his lawyers, and his monsignores, and his architects, Lothairbegan to get a little harassed. He was disturbed in his own mind, too, on greater matters, and seemed to feel every day that it was morenecessary to take a decided step, and more impossible to decide uponwhat it should be. He frequently saw the cardinal, who was very kindto him, but who had become more reserved on religious subjects. He haddined more than once with his eminence, and had met some distinguishedprelates and some of his fellow-nobles who had been weaned from theerrors of their cradle. The cardinal, perhaps, thought that the presenceof these eminent converts would facilitate the progress, perhaps thedecision, of his ward; but something seemed always to happen to divertLothair in his course. It might-be sometimes apparently a very slightcause, but yet for the time sufficient; a phrase of Lady Corisande forexample, who, though she never directly addressed him on the subject, was nevertheless deeply interested in his spiritual condition. 

"You ought to speak to him, Bertram, " she said one day to her brothervery indignantly, as she read a fresh paragraph alluding to an impendingconversion. "You are his friend. What is the use of friendship if not insuch a crisis as this?"

"I see no use in speaking to a man about love or religion, " saidBertram; "they are both stronger than friendship. If there be anyfoundation for the paragraph, my interference would be of no avail; ifthere be none, I should only make myself ridiculous. "

Nevertheless, Bertram looked a little more after his friend, anddisturbing the monsignore, who was at breakfast with Lothair onemorning, Bertram obstinately outstayed the priest, and then said: "Itell you what, old fellow, you are rather hippish; I wish you were inthe House of Commons. "

"So do I, " said Lothair, with a sigh; "but I have come into every thingready-made. I begin to think it very unfortunate. "

"What are you going to do with yourself to-day? If you be disengaged, Ivote we dine together at White's, and then we will go down to the House. I will take you to the smoking-room and introduce you to Bright, and wewill trot him out on primogeniture. "

At this moment the servant brought Lothair two letters: one was anepistle from Father Coleman, meeting Lothair's objections to becoming apatron of the Roman Catholic Bazaar, in a very unctuous and exhaustivemanner; and the other from his stud-groom at Oxford, detailing some ofthose disagreeable things which will happen with absent masters whowill not answer letters. Lothair loved his stable, and felt particularlyanxious to avoid the threatened visit of Father Coleman on the morrow. His decision was rapid. "I must go down, this afternoon to Oxford, my dear fellow. My stable is in confusion. I shall positively returnto-morrow, and I will dine with you at White's, and we will go to theHouse of Commons together, or go to the play. "

CHAPTER 23

Lothair's stables were about three miles from Oxford. They were a ratherconsiderable establishment, in which he had taken much interest, and, having always intended to return to Oxford in the early part of theyear, although he had occasionally sent for a hack or two to London, hisstud had been generally maintained. 

The morning after his arrival, he rode over to the stables, where hehad ordered his drag to be ready. About a quarter of a mile before hereached his place of destination, he observed at some little distancea crowd in the road, and, hastening on, perceived as he drew nearera number of men clustered round a dismantled vehicle, and vainlyendeavoring to extricate and raise a fallen horse; its companion, panting and foaming, with broken harness but apparently uninjured, standing aside and held by a boy. Somewhat apart stood a lady alone. Lothair immediately dismounted and approached her, saying, "I fear youare in trouble, madam. Perhaps I may be of service?"

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

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

"Fortunately my stables are at hand, " said Lothair, "and I have acarriage waiting for me at this moment, not a quarter of a mile away. Itis at your service, and I will send for it, " and his groom, to whom hegave directions, galloped off. 

There was a shout as the fallen horse was on his legs again, much cut, and the carriage shattered and useless. A gentleman came from the crowdand approached the lady. He was tall and fair, and not ill-favored, withfine dark eyes and high cheekbones, and still young, though an enormousbeard at the first glance gave him an impression of years, the burden ofwhich he really did not bear. His dress, though not vulgar, was richerand more showy than is usual in this country, and altogether there wassomething in his manner which, though calm and full of self-respect, was different from the conventional refinement of England. Yet he wasapparently an Englishman, as he said to the lady, "It is a bad business, but we must be thankful it is no worse. What troubles me is how you areto get back. It will be a terrible walk over these stony roads, and Ican hear of no conveyance. "

"My husband, " said the lady, as with dignity she presented the personto Lothair. "This gentleman, " she continued, "has most kindly offered usthe use of his carriage, which is almost at hand. "

"Sir, you are a friend, " said the gentleman. "I thought there were nohorses that I could not master, but it seems I am mistaken. I boughtthese only yesterday; took a fancy to them as we were driving about, andbought them of a dealer in the road. "

"That seems a clever animal, " said Lothair, pointing to the oneuninjured. 

"Ah! you like horses?" said the gentleman. 

"Well, I have some taste that way. "

"We are visitors to Oxford, " said the lady. "Colonel Campian, like allAmericans, is very interested in the ancient parts of England. "

"To-day we were going to Blenheim, " said the colonel, "but I thought Iwould try these new tits a bit on a by-road first. "

"All's well that ends well, " said Lothair; "and there is no reason whyyou should not fulfil your intention of going to Blenheim, for here ismy carriage, and it is entirely at your service for the whole day, and, indeed, as long as you stay at Oxford. "

"Sir, there requires no coronet on Your carriage to tell me you area nobleman, " said the colonel. "I like frank manners, and I like yourteam. I know few things that would please me more than to try them. "

They were four roans, highly bred, with black manes and tails. They hadthe Arab eye, with arched neck and seemed proud of themselves and theirmaster. 

"I do not see why we should not go to Blenheim, " said the colonel. 

"Well, not to-day, " said the lady, "I think. We have had an escape, butone feels these things a little more afterward than at the time. Iwould rather go back to Oxford and be quiet; and there is more than onecollege which you have not yet seen. "

"My team is entirely at your service wherever you go, " said Lothair;"but I cannot venture to drive you to Oxford, for I am there in statupupillari and a proctor might arrest us all. But perhaps, " and heapproached the lady, "you will permit me to call on you to-morrow, whenI hope I may find you have not suffered by this misadventure. "

"We have got a professor dining with us to-day at seven o'clock, " saidthe colonel, "at our hotel, and if you be disengaged and would join theparty you would add to the favors which you know so well how to confer. "

Lothair handed the lady into the carriage, the colonel mounted the boxand took the ribbons like a master, and the four roans trotted away withtheir precious charge and their two grooms behind with folded arms andimperturbable countenances. 

Lothair watched the equipage until it vanished in the distance. 

"It is impossible to forget that countenance, " he said; "and I fancyI did hear at the time that she had married an American. Well, I shallmeet her at dinner--that is something. " And he sprang into his saddle. 

CHAPTER 24

The Oxford professor, who was the guest of the American colonel, wasquite a young man, of advanced opinions on all subjects, religious, social, and political. He was clever, extremely well-informed, so far asbooks can make a man knowing, but unable to profit even by his limitedexperience of life from a restless vanity and overflowing conceit, whichprevented him from ever observing or thinking of any thing but himself. He was gifted with a great command of words, which took the form ofendless exposition, varied by sarcasm and passages of ornate jargon. Hewas the last person one would have expected to recognize in an Oxfordprofessor; but we live in times of transition. 

A Parisian man of science, who had passed his life in alternatelyfighting at barricades and discovering planets, had given ColonelCampian, who had lived much in the French capital, a letter ofintroduction to the professor, whose invectives against the principlesof English society were hailed by foreigners as representative of thesentiments of venerable Oxford. The professor, who was not satisfiedwith his home career, and, like many men of his order of mind, haddreams of wild vanity which the New World, they think, can alonerealize, was very glad to make the colonel's acquaintance, which mightfacilitate his future movements. So he had lionized the distinguishedvisitors during the last few days over the university, and had availedhimself of plenteous opportunities for exhibiting to them his celebratedpowers of exposition, his talent for sarcasm, which he deemed peerless, and several highly-finished, picturesque passages, which were introducedwith contemporary art. 

The professor was very much surprised when he saw Lothair enter thesaloon at the hotel. He was the last person in Oxford whom he expectedto encounter. Like sedentary men of extreme opinions, he was a socialparasite, and instead of indulging in his usual invectives against peersand princes, finding himself unexpectedly about to dine with one of thatclass, he was content only to dazzle and amuse him. 

Mrs. Campian only entered the room when dinner was announced. Shegreeted Lothair with calmness but amenity, and took his offered arm. 

"You have not suffered, I hope?" said Lothair. 

"Very little, and through your kindness. "

It was a peculiar voice, low and musical, too subdued to call thrilling, but a penetrating voice, so that, however ordinary the observation, itattracted and impressed attention. But it was in harmony with all herappearance and manner. Lothair thought he had never seen any one or anything so serene; the serenity, however, not of humbleness, nor of merelyconscious innocence; it was not devoid of a degree of majesty; what onepictures of Olympian repose. And the countenance was Olympian: a Phidianface, with large gray eyes and dark lashes; wonderful hair, aboundingwithout art, and gathered together by Grecian fillets. 

The talk was of Oxford, and was at first chiefly maintained by thecolonel and the professor. 

"And do you share Colonel Campian's feeling about Old England?" inquiredLothair of his hostess. 

"The present interests me more than the past, " said the lady, "and thefuture more than the present. "

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

"I think it is intelligible, " said the lady, with a faint smile. "It hasmany faults but, not, I think, the want of clearness. "

"I am not a destructive, " said the professor, addressing the colonel, but speaking loudly; "I would maintain Oxford, under any circumstances, with the necessary changes. "

"And what are those might I ask?" inquired Lothair. 

"In reality, not much. I would get rid of the religion. "

"Get rid of the religion!" said Lothair. 

"You have got rid of it once, " said the professor. 

"You have altered, you have what people call reformed it, " said Lothair;"but you have not abolished or banished it from the university. "

"The shock would not be greater, nor so great, as the change from thepapal to the Reformed faith. Besides, universities have nothing to dowith religion. "

"I thought universities were universal, " said Lothair, "and hadsomething to do with every thing. "

"I cannot conceive any society of any kind without religion, " said thelady. 

Lothair glanced at her beautiful brow with devotion as she uttered thesewords. 

Colonel Campian began to talk about horses. After that the professorproved to him that he was related to Edmund Campian, the Jesuit;and then he got to the Gunpowder Plot, which, he was not sure, ifsuccessful, might not have beneficially influenced the course of ourhistory. Probably the Irish difficulty would not then have existed. 

"I dislike plots, " said the lady; "they always fail. "

"And, whatever their object, are they not essentially immoral?" saidLothair. 

"I have more faith in ideas than in persons, " said the lady. "When atruth is uttered, it will, sooner or later, be recognized. It is onlyan affair of time. It is better that it should mature and naturallygerminate than be forced. "

"You would reduce us to lotus-eaters, " exclaimed the professor. "Actionis natural to man. And what, after all, are conspiracies and revolutionsbut great principles in violent action?"

"I think you must be an admirer of repose, " said Lothair to the lady, ina low voice. 

"Because I have seen something of action in my life;" said the lady, "and it is an experience of wasted energies and baffled thoughts. "

When they returned to the saloon, the colonel and the professorbecame interested in the constitution and discipline of the Americanuniversities. Lothair hung about the lady, who was examining some viewsof Oxford, and who was ascertaining what she had seen and what she hadomitted to visit. They were thinking of returning home on the morrow. 

"Without seeing Blenheim?" said Lothair. 

"Without seeing Blenheim, " said the lady; "I confess to a pang; but Ishall always associate with that name your great kindness to us. "

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

The lady seemed to smile. 

"Theodora, " said the colonel, speaking from the end of the room, "whathave you settled about your train to-morrow?"

"We want, to stay another day here, " said Theodora, "and go toBlenheim. "

CHAPTER 25

They were in the private gardens at Blenheim. The sun was brilliant overthe ornate and yet picturesque scene. 

"Beautiful, is it not?" exclaimed Lothair. 

"Yes, certainly beautiful, " said Theodora. "But, do you know, I donot feel altogether content in these fine gardens? The principle ofexclusion on which they are all founded is to me depressing. I requirein all things sympathy. You would not agree with me in this. The mannersof your country are founded on exclusion. "

"But, surely, there are times and places when one would like to bealone. "

"Without doubt, " said the lady; "only I do not like artificialloneliness. Even your parks, which all the world praises, do not quitesatisfy me. I prefer a forest where all may go--even the wild beasts. "

"But forests are not at command, " said Lothair. 

"So you make a solitude and call it peace, " said the lady, with a slightsmile. "For my part, my perfect life would be a large and beautifulvillage. I admire Nature, but I require the presence of humanity. Lifein great cities is too exhausting; but in my village there should beair, streams, and beautiful trees, a picturesque scene, but enough of myfellow-creatures to insure constant duty. "

"But the fulfilment of duty and society, founded on what you call theprinciple of exclusion, are not incompatible, " said Lothair. 

"No, but difficult. What should be natural becomes an art; and in everyart it is only the few who can be first rate. "

"I have an ambition to be a first-rate artist in that respect, " saidLothair, thoughtfully. 

"That does you much honor, " she replied, "for you necessarily embarkin a most painful enterprise. The toiling multitude have their sorrows, which, I believe, will some day be softened, and obstacles hard toovercome; but I have always thought that the feeling of satiety, almostinseparable from large possessions, is a surer cause of misery thanungratified desires. "

"It seems to me that there is a great deal to do, " said Lothair. 

"I think so, " said the lady. 

"Theodora, " said the colonel, who was a little in advance with theprofessor, and turning round his head, "this reminds me of Mirabel, "and he pointed to the undulating banks covered with rare shrubs, andtouching the waters of the lake. 

"And where is Mirabel?" said Lothair. 

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

"And were not you fond of it?"

"I never think of the past, " said the lady. 

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

"Yes, we have met before, in Hyde Park Gardens. Our hostess is a cleverwoman, and has been very kind to some friends of mine. "

"And have you seen her lately?"

"She comes to see us sometimes. We do not live in London, but in thevicinity. We only go to London for the opera, of which we are devotees. We do not at all enter general society; Colonel Campian only likespeople who interest or amuse him, and he is fortunate in having rather anumerous acquaintance of that kind. "

"Rare fortune!" said Lothair. 

"Colonel Campian lived a great deal at Paris before we marred, " saidthe lady, "and in a circle of considerable culture and excitement. He issocial, but not conventional. "

"And you--are you conventional?"

"Well, I live only for climate and the affections, " said the lady "I amfond of society that pleases me, that is, accomplished and natural andingenious; otherwise I prefer being alone. As for atmosphere, as I lookupon it as the main source of felicity, you may be surprised that Ishould reside in your country. I should myself like to go to America, but that would not suit Colonel Campian; and, if we are to live inEurope, we must live in England. It is not pleasant to reside in acountry where, if you happen to shelter or succor a friend, you may besubject to a domiciliary visit. "

The professor stopped to deliver a lecture or address on the villaof Hadrian. Nothing could be more minute or picturesque than hisdescription of that celebrated pleasaunce. It was varied by portraits ofthe emperor and some of his companions, and, after a rapid glance atthe fortunes of the imperial patriciate, wound up with some conclusionsfavorable to communism. It was really very clever, and would have madethe fortune of a literary society. 

"I wonder if they had gravel-walks in the villa of Hadrian?" saidthe colonel. "What I admire most in your country, my lord, are yourgravel-walks, though that lady would not agree with me that matter. "

"You are against gravel-walks, " said Lothair. 

"Well, I cannot bring myself to believe that they had gravel-walks inthe garden of Eden, " said the lady. 

They had a repast at Woodstock, too late for luncheon, too early fordinner, but which it was agreed should serve as the latter meal. 

"That suits me exactly, " said the lady; "I am a great foe to dinners, and indeed to all meals. I think when the good time comes we shall giveup eating in public, except perhaps fruit on a green bank with music. "

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

He had read of such countenances in Grecian dreams; in Corinthiantemples, in fanes of Ephesus, in the radiant shadow of divine groves. 

CHAPTER 26

When they had arrived at the hotel, Colonel Campian proposed that theyshould come in and have some coffee; but Theodora did not enforce thissuggestion; and Lothair, feeling that she might be wearied, gracefullythough unwillingly waived the proposal. Remembering that on the noonof the morrow they were to depart, with a happy inspiration, as he saidfarewell, he asked permission to accompany them to the station. 

Lothair walked away with the professor, who seemed in a conservativevein, and graciously disposed to make several concessions to the customsof an ancient country. Though opposed to the land laws, he would operategradually, and gave Lothair more than one receipt how to save thearistocracy. Lothair would have preferred talking about the lady theyhad just quitted, but, as he soon found the professor could really givehim no information about her, he let the subject drop. 

But not out of his own mind. He was glad to be alone and brood over thelast two days. They were among the most interesting of his life. He hadencountered a character different from any he had yet met, had listenedto new views, and his intelligence had been stimulated by remarks madecasually, in easy conversation, and yet to him pregnant with noveland sometimes serious meaning. The voice, too, lingered in his ear, so hushed and deep, and yet so clear and sweet. He leaned over hismantel-piece in teeming reverie. 

"And she is profoundly religious, " he said to himself; "she can conceiveno kind of society without religion. She has arrived at the sameconclusion as myself. What a privilege it would be to speak to her onsuch subjects!"

After a restless night the morrow came. About eleven o'clock Lothairventured to call on his new friends. The lady was alone; she wasstanding by the window, reading an Italian newspaper, which she foldedup and placed aside when Lothair was announced. 

"We propose to walk to the station, " said Theodora; "the servants havegone on. Colonel Campian has a particular aversion to moving with anyluggage. He restricts me to this, " she said, pointing to her satchel, inwhich she had placed the foreign newspaper, "and for that he will not beresponsible. "

"It was most kind of you to permit me to accompany you this morning, "said Lothair; "I should have been grieved to have parted abruptly lastnight. "

"I could not refuse such a request, " said the lady; "but do you know, Inever like to say farewell, even for four-and-twenty hours? One shouldvanish like a spirit. "

"Then I have erred, " said Lothair, "against your rules and principles. "

"Say my fancies, " said the lady, "my humors, my whims. Besides, this isnot a farewell. You will come and see us. Colonel Campian tells me youhave promised to give us that pleasure. "

"It will be the greatest pleasure to me, " said Lothair; "I can conceivenothing greater. " And then hesitating a little, and a little blushing, he added, "When do you think I might come?"

"Whenever you like, " said the lady; "you will always find me at home. Mylife is this: I ride every day very early, and far into the country, soI return tamed some two or three hours after noon, and devote myself tomy friends. We are at home every evening, except opera nights; andlet me tell you, because it is not the custom generally among yourcompatriots, we are always at home on Sundays. "

Colonel Campian entered the room; the moment of departure was at hand. Lothair felt the consolation of being their companion to the station. Hehad once hoped it might be possible to be their companion in the train;but he was not encouraged. 

"Railways have elevated and softened the lot of man, " said Theodora, "and Colonel Campian views them with almost a religious sentiment. But Icannot read in a railroad, and the human voice is distressing to meamid the whirl and the whistling, and the wild panting of the loosenedmegatheria who drag us. And then those terrible grottos--it is quite adescent of Proserpine; so I have no resources but my thoughts. "

"And surely that is sufficient, " murmured Lothair. 

"Not when the past is expelled, " said the lady. 

"But the future, " said Lothair. 

"Yes, that is ever interesting, but so vague that it sometimes inducesslumber. "

The bell sounded; Lothair handed the lady to her compartment. 

"Our Oxford visit, " she said, "has been a great success, and mainlythrough you. "

The colonel was profuse in his cordial farewells, and it seemed theywould never have ended had not the train moved. 

Lothair remained upon the platform until it was out of sight, and thenexclaimed, "Is it a dream, or shall I ever see her again?"

CHAPTER 27

Lothair reached London late in the afternoon. Among the notes and cardsand letters on his table was a long and pressing dispatch from Mr. Putney Giles awaiting his judgment and decision on many points. 

"The central inauguration, if I may use the term, " said Mr. PutneyGiles, "is comparatively easy. It is an affair of expense and oflabor--great labor; I may say unremitting labor. But your lordship willobserve the other points are not mere points of expense and labor. Wehave to consult the feelings of several counties where your lordshipcannot be present, at least certainly not on this occasion, and yetwhere an adequate recognition of those sentiments which ought to existbetween the proprietor and all classes connected with him ought to besecured. Then Scotland: Scotland is a very difficult business to manage. It is astonishing how the sentiment lingers in that country connectedwith its old independence. I really am quite surprised at it. One ofyour lordship's most important tenants wrote to me only a few days backthat great dissatisfaction would prevail among your lordship's friendsand tenantry in Scotland, if that country on this occasion were placedon the same level as a mere English county. It must be recognized asa kingdom. I almost think it would be better if we could persuade LordCulloden, not to attend the English inauguration, but remain in thekingdom of Scotland, and take the chair and the lead throughout thefestal ceremonies. A peer of the realm, and your lordship's guardian, would impart something of national character to the proceedings, andthis, with a judicious emblazoning on some of the banners of the royalarms of Scotland, might have a conciliatory effect. One should alwaysconciliate. But your lordship, upon all these points, and especiallywith reference to Lord Culloden, must be a much better judge than I am. "

Lothair nearly gave a groan. "I almost wish, " he thought, "my minoritywould never end. I am quite satisfied with things as they are. What isthe kingdom of Scotland to me and all these counties? I almost begin tofeel that satiety which she said was inseparable from vast possessions. "

A letter from Bertram, reminding him that he had not dined at White's ashe had promised, and suggesting some new arrangement, and another fromMonsignore Catesby, earnestly urging him to attend a most peculiar andsolemn function of the Church next Sunday evening, where the cardinalwould officiate and preach, and in which Lady St. Jerome and MissArundel were particularly interested, did not restore his equanimity. 

A dinner at White's! He did not think he could stand a dinner atWhite's. Indeed, he was not sure that he could stand any dinneranywhere, especially in this hot weather. There was a good deal in whatshe said: "One ought to eat alone. "

The ecclesiastical function was a graver matter. It had been longcontemplated, often talked about, and on occasions looked forward toby him even with a certain degree of eagerness. He wished he had hadan opportunity of speaking with her on these matters. She was eminentlyreligious; that she had voluntarily avowed. And he felt persuaded thatno light or thoughtless remark could fall from those lips. He wonderedto what Church she belonged? Protestant or papal? Her husband, beingan American, was probably a Protestant, but he was a gentleman of theSouth, and with nothing puritanical about him. She was a European, andprobably of a Latin race. In all likelihood she was a Roman Catholic. 

It was Wednesday evening, and his valet reminded him that he was engagedto dine with Lord and Lady Montairy. 

Lothair sighed. He was so absorbed by his new feelings that he shrunkfrom society with a certain degree of aversion. He felt it quite out ofhis power to fulfil his engagement. He sent an excuse. It was Lothair'sfirst excuse. In short, he "threw over" the Montairys, to whom he wasso much attached, whom he so much admired, and whose society he hadhitherto so highly prized. 

To "throw over" a host is the most heinous of social crimes. Itought never to be pardoned. It disjoints a party, often defeats thecombinations which might affect the results of a season, and generallyrenders the society incoherent and unsatisfactory. If the outragecould ever be condoned, it might be in the instance of a young manvery inexperienced, the victim of some unexpected condition of nervousfeelings over which the defaulter has really no control. 

It was evening, and the restless Lothair walked forth without a purpose, and in a direction which he rarely visited. "It is a wonderful place, "said he, "this London; a nation, not a city; with a population greaterthan some kingdoms, and districts as different as if they were underdifferent governments and spoke different languages. And what do I knowof it? I have been living here six months, and my life has been passedin a park, two or three squares, and half a dozen streets!"

So he walked on and soon crossed Oxford Street, like the Rhine a naturalboundary, and then got into Portland Place, and then found himselfin the New Road, and then he hailed a cruising Hansom, which he hadpreviously observed was well horsed. 

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

"Drive on till I tell you to stop. "

And the Hansom drove on, through, endless boulevards, some bustling, some dingy, some tawdry and flaring, some melancholy and mean; rows ofgarden gods, planted on the walls of yards full of vases and divinitiesof concrete, huge railway halls, monster hotels, dissenting chapels inthe form of Gothic churches, quaint ancient almshouses that were oncebuilt in the fields, and tea-gardens and stingo-houses and knackers'yards. They were in a district far beyond the experience of Lothair, which indeed had been exhausted when he had passed Eustonia, and fromthat he had been long separated. The way was broad but ill-lit, withhouses of irregular size but generally of low elevation, and sometimesdetached in smoke-dried gardens. The road was becoming a bridge whichcrossed a canal, with barges and wharves and timber-yards, when theirprogress was arrested by a crowd. It seemed a sort of procession; therewas a banner, and the lamp-light fell upon a religious emblem. Lothairwas interested, and desired the driver not to endeavor to advance. Theprocession was crossing the road and entering a building. 

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

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

The man stared with delight at the sovereign in his astonished palm, andin gratitude suggested that he should remain and wait for the gentleman, but the restless Lothair declined the proposal. 

"Sir, sir, " said the man, leaning down his head as low as possiblefrom his elevated seat, and speaking in a hushed voice, "you are a realgentleman. Do you know what all this is?"

"Yes, yes; some meeting about a Roman Catholic school. "

The man shook his head. "You are a real gentleman, and I will tell youthe truth. They meet about the schools of the order of St. Joseph--overthe left--it is a Fenian meeting. "

"A Fenian meeting?"

"Ay, ay, and you cannot enter that place without a ticket. Just you try!However, if a gentleman like you wants to go, you shall have my ticket, "said the cab-driver; "and here it is. And may I drive to-morrows as truea gentleman as I have driven to-day!"

So saying, he took a packet from his breast-pocket, and opening itoffered to Lothair a green slip of paper, which was willingly accepted. "I should like above all things to go, " he said, and he blended withthe rear of those who were entering the building. The collector ofthe tickets stared at Lothair and scrutinized his pass, but all was inorder, and Lothair was admitted. 

He passed through a house and a yard, at the bottom of which was arather spacious building. When he entered it, he saw in an instant itwas not a chapel. It was what is called a temperance-hall, a room to behired for public assemblies, with a raised platform at the end, on whichwere half a dozen men. The hall was tolerably full, and Lothair camein among the last. There were some children sitting on a form placedagainst the wall of the room, each with a bun which kept them quiet; thebanner belonged to this school, and was the banner of St. Joseph. 

A man dressed like a pries and known as Father O'Molloy, came forward. He was received with signs of much sympathy, succeeded by completesilence. He addressed them in a popular and animated style on theadvantages of education. They knew what that was, and then theycheered. . Education taught them to know their rights. But what was theuse of knowing their rights unless they enforced them? That was notto be done by prayer-books, but by something else, and something elsewanted a subscription. 

This was the object of the meeting and the burden of all the speecheswhich followed, and which were progressively more outspoken than theadroit introductory discourse. The Saxon was denounced, sometimes withcoarseness, but sometimes in terms of picturesque passion; the vast andextending organization of the brotherhood was enlarged on, the greatresults at hand intimated; the necessity of immediate exertion on thepart of every individual pressed with emphasis. All these views andremarks received from the audience an encouraging response; and whenLothair observed men going round with boxes, and heard the clink ofcoin, he felt very embarrassed as to what he should do when asked tocontribute to a fund raised to stimulate and support rebellion againsthis sovereign. He regretted the rash restlessness which had involved himin such a position. 

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

"I should like to speak to Father O'Molloy, " said Lothair; "he is apriest, and will understand my views. "

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

"If you want to speak to the father, speak from where you are, " saidthe other collector. "Here, silence! a gentleman wants to address themeeting. "

And there was silence, and Lothair felt extremely embarrassed, but hewas not wanting, though it was the first time in his life that he hadaddressed a public meeting. 

"Gentlemen, " said Lothair, "I really had no wish to intrude upon you;all I desired was to speak to Father O'Molloy. I wished to tell him thatit would have given me pleasure to subscribe to these schools. I am nota Roman Catholic, but I respect the Roman Catholic religion. But I cando nothing that will imply the slightest sanction of the opinions Ihave heard expressed this evening. For your own sakes--" but here a yellarose which forever drowned his voice. 

"A spy, a spy!" was the general exclamation. "We are betrayed! Seizehim! Knock him over!" and the whole meeting seemed to have turned theirbacks on the platform and to be advancing on the unfortunate Lothair. Two of the leaders on the platform at the same time leaped down from it, to direct as it were the enraged populace. 

But at this moment a man who had been in the lower part of the hall, inthe vicinity of Lothair and standing alone, pushed forward, and by hisgestures and general mien arrested somewhat the crowd, so that the twoleaders who leaped from the platform and bustled through the crowd camein contact with him. 

The stranger was evidently not of the class or country of the restassembled. He had a military appearance, and spoke with a foreign accentwhen he said, "This is no spy. Keep your people off. "

"And who are you?" inquired the leader thus addressed. 

"One accustomed to be obeyed, " said the stranger. 

"You may be a spy yourself, " said the leader. 

"I will not undertake to say that there are no spies in this room, " saidthe stranger, "but this person is not one, and anybody who touches thisperson will touch this person at his peril. Stand off, men!" And theystood off. The wave retreated backward, leaving the two leaders infront. A couple of hundred men, a moment before apparently full offurious passion and ready to take refuge in the violence of fear, werecowed by a single human being. 

"Why, you are not afraid of one man?" said the leaders, ashamed of theirfollowing. "Whatever betides, no one unknown shall leave this room, orit will be Bow Street to-morrow morning. "

"Nevertheless, " said the stranger, "two unknown men will leave this roomand with general assent. If any one touches this person or myself I willshoot him dead, " and he drew out his revolver, "and as for the rest, look at that, " he added, giving a paper to the leader of the FenianLodge, "and then give it me back again. "

The leader of the Fenian Lodge glanced at the paper; he grew pale, thenscarlet, folded the paper with great care and returned it reverentiallyto the stranger, then looking round to the assembly and waving his handhe said, "All right, the gentlemen are to go. "

"Well, you have got out of a scrape, young air, " said the stranger toLothair when they had escaped from the hall. 

"And how can I express my gratitude to you?" Lothair replied. 

"Poh!" said the stranger, "a mere affair of common duty. But whatsurprises me is how you got your pass-ticket. "

Lothair told him all. 

"They manage their affairs in general wonderfully close, " said thestranger, "but I have no opinion of them. I have just returned fromIreland, where I thought I would go and see what they really are after. No real business in them. Their treason is a fairy tale, and theirsedition a child talking in its sleep. "

They walked together about half a mile, and then the stranger said, "Atthe end of this we shall get into the City Road, and the land again ofomnibus and public conveyances, and I shall wish you good night. "

"But it is distressing to me to part thus, " said Lothair. "Pray let mecall and pay my respects to my benefactor. "

"No claim to any such title, " said the stranger; "I am always glad tobe of use. I will not trouble you to call on me, for, frankly, I have nowish to increase the circle of my acquaintance. So, good-night; and, asyou seem to be fond of a little life, take my advice, and never go aboutunarmed. "

CHAPTER 28

The Fenian adventure furnished the distraction which Lothair requiredIt broke that absorbing spell of sentiment which is the delicious butenervating privilege of the youthful heart; yet, when Lothair woke inthe morning from his well-earned slumbers, the charm returned, and hefell at once into a reverie of Belmont, and a speculation when he mightreally pay his first visit there. Not to-day--that was clearly out ofthe question. They had separated only yesterday, and yet it seemed anage, and the adventure of another world. There are moods of feelingwhich defy alike time and space. 

But on the morrow, Friday, he might venture to go. But, then, wouldto-morrow ever come? It seemed impossible. How were the interveninghours to pass? The world, however, was not so devoid of resourcesas himself, and had already appropriated his whole day. And, first, Monsignore Catesby came to breakfast with him, talking of every thingthat was agreeable or interesting, but in reality bent on securing hispresence at the impending ecclesiastical ceremony of high import, wherehis guardian was to officiate, and where the foundation was to be laidof the reconciliation of all churches in the bosom of the true one. Then, in the afternoon, Lothair had been long engaged to a match ofpigeon-shooting, in which pastime Bertram excelled. It seemed there wasto be a most exciting sweepstakes to-day, in which the flower of Englandwere to compete; Lothair among them, and for the first time. 

This great exploit of arms was to be accomplished at the Castle in theAir, a fantastic villa near the banks of the Thames, belonging tothe Duke of Brecon. His grace had been offended by the conduct orthe comments of the outer world, which in his pastime had thwarted ordispleased him in the free life of Battersea. The Duke of Brecon was agentleman easily offended, but not one of those who ever confined theirsense of injury to mere words. He prided himself on "putting down" anyindividual or body of men who chose to come into collision with him. Andso in the present instance he formed a club of pigeon-shooters, andlent them his villa for their rendezvous and enjoyment. The society wasexquisite, exclusive, and greatly sought after. And the fine ladies, tempted, of course, by the beauty of the scene, honored and inspired thecompeting confederates by their presence. 

The Castle in the Air was a colossal thatched cottage, built by afavorite of, King George IV. It was full of mandarins and pagodas andgreen dragons, and papered with birds of many colors and with vasttails. The gardens were pretty, and the grounds park-like, with somenoble cedars and some huge walnut-trees. 

The Duke of Brecon was rather below the middle size, but he had asingularly athletic frame not devoid of symmetry. His head was wellplaced on his broad shoulders, and his mien was commanding. He wasnarrow-minded and prejudiced, but acute, and endowed with an unbendingwill. He was an eminent sportsman, and brave even to brutality. Hisboast was that he had succeeded in every thing he had attempted, and hewould not admit the possibility of future failure. Though still avery young man, he had won the Derby, training his own horse; and hesuccessfully managed a fine stud in defiance of the ring, whom it wasone of the secret objects of his life to extirpate. Though his mannerto men was peremptory, cold, and hard, he might be described as popular, for there existed a superstitious belief in his judgment, and it wasknown that in some instances, when he had been consulted, he had givenmore than advice. It could not be said that he was beloved, but he wasfeared and highly considered. Parasites were necessary to him, though hedespised them. 

The Duke of Brecon was an avowed admirer, of Lady Corisande, and wasintimate with her family. The duchess liked him much, and was often seenat ball or assembly on his arm. He had such excellent principles, shesaid; was so straight-forward, so true and firm. It was whispered thateven Lady Corisande had remarked that the Duke of Brecon was the onlyyoung man of the time who had "character. " The truth is, the duke, though absolute and hard to men, could be soft and deferential to women, and such an exception to a general disposition has a charm. It was said, also, that he had, when requisite, a bewitching smile. 

If there were any thing or any person in the world that St. Aldegondehated more than another, it was the Duke of Brecon. Why St. Aldegondehated him was not very clear, for they had never crossed each other, nor were the reasons for his detestation, which he occasionally gave, entirely satisfactory: sometimes it was because the duke drove piebalds;sometimes because he had a large sum in the funds, which St. Aldegondethought disgraceful for a duke; sometimes because he wore a particularhat, though, with respect to this last allegation, it does not followthat St. Aldegonde was justified in his criticism, for in all thesematters St. Aldegonde was himself very deficient, and had once strolledup St. James's Street with his dishevelled looks crowned with awide-awake. Whatever might be the cause, St. Aldegonde generally woundup--"I tell you what, Bertha, if Corisande marries that follow, I havemade up my mind to go to the Indian Ocean. It is a country I never haveseen, and Pinto tells me you cannot do it well under five years. "

"I hope you will take me, Grenville, with you, " said Lady St. Aldegonde, "because it is highly probable Corisande will marry the duke; mamma, youknow, likes him so much. "

"Why cannot Corisande marry Carisbrooke?" said St. Aldegonde, pouting;"he is a really good fellow, much better-looking, and so far as land isconcerned, which after all is the only thing, has as large an estate asthe duke. "

"Well, these things depend a little upon taste, " said Lady St. Aldegonde. 

"No, no, " said St. Aldegonde; "Corisande must marry Carisbrooke. Your father would not like my going to the Indian Archipelago and notreturning for five years, perhaps never returning. Why should Corisandebreak up our society?--why are people so selfish? I never could go toBrentham again if the Duke of Brecon is always to be there, giving hisopinion, and being what your mother calls 'straightforward'--I hate astraightforward fellow. As Pinto says, if every man were straightforwardin his opinions, there would be no conversation. The fun of talk is tofind out what a man really thinks, then contrast it with the enormouslies he has been telling all dinner, and, perhaps, all his life. "

It was a favorable day for the Castle in the Air; enough, but nottoo much sun, and a gentle breeze. Some pretty feet, not alone, weresauntering in the gardens, some pretty lips lingered in the roomssipping tea; but the mass of the fair visitors, marvellously attired, were assembled at the scene of action, seated on chairs and in groups, which assumed something of the form of an amphitheatre. There were manygentlemen in attendance on them, or independent spectators of the sport. The field was large, not less than forty competitors, and comprisingmany of the best shots in England. The struggle therefore, was long andably maintained; but, as the end approached, it was evident that thecontest would be between Bertram, Lothair, and the Duke of Brecon. 

Lady St. Aldegonde and Lady Montairy were there and their unmarriedsister. The married sisters were highly excited in favor of theirbrother, but Lady Corisande said nothing. At last Bertram missed abird, or rather his bird, which he had hit, escaped, and fell beyond theenclosure. Lothair was more successful, and it seemed that it might bea tie between him and the duke. His grace, when called, advanced withconfident composure, and apparently killed both his birds, when, atthis moment, a dog rushed forward and chased one of the mortally-struckpigeons. The blue-rock, which was content to die by the hand of a duke, would not deign to be worried by a dog, and it frantically moved itsexpiring wings, scaled the paling, and died. So Lothair won the prize. 

"Well, " said Lady Montairy to Lothair, "as Bertram was not to win, I amglad it was you. "

"And you will not congratulate me?" said Lothair to Lady Corisande. 

She rather shook her head. "A tournament of doves, " she said. "I wouldrather see you all in the lists of Ashby. "

Lothair had to dine this day with one of the vanquished. This was Mr. Brancepeth, celebrated for his dinners, still more for his guests. Mr. Brancepeth was a grave young man. It was supposed that he was alwaysmeditating over the arrangement of his menus, or the skilful means bywhich he could assemble together the right persons to partake of them. Mr. Brancepeth had attained the highest celebrity in his peculiarcareer. To dine with Mr. Brancepeth was a social incident that wasmentioned. Royalty had consecrated his banquets, and a youth of note wasscarcely a graduate of society who had not been his guest. There was oneperson, however, who, in this respect, had not taken his degree, and, asalways happens under such circumstances, he was the individual onwhom Mr. Brancepeth was most desirous to confer it; and this was St. Aldegonde. In vain Mr. Brancepeth had approached him with vast cards ofinvitation to hecatombs, and with insinuating little notes to dinnerssans fa on; proposals which the presence of princes might almostconstrue into a command, or the presence of some one even moreattractive than princes must invest with irresistible charm. It was allin vain. "Not that I dislike Brancepeth, " said St. Aldegonde; "I ratherlike him: I like a man who can do only one thing, but does that well. But then I hate dinners. "

But the determined and the persevering need never despair of gainingtheir object in this world. And this very day, riding home from theCastle in the Air, Mr. Brancepeth overtook St. Aldegonde, who waslounging about on a rough Scandinavian cob, as dishevelled as himself, listless and groomless. After riding together for twenty minutes, St. Aldegonde informed Mr. Brancepeth, as was his general custom with hiscompanions, that he was bored to very extinction, and that he did notknow what he should do with himself for the rest of the day. "If I couldonly get Pinto to go with me, I think I would run down to the Star andGarter, or perhaps to Hampton Court. "

"You will not be able to get Pinto today, " said Mr. Brancepeth, "for hedines with me. "

"What an unlucky fellow I am!" exclaimed St. Aldegonde, entirely tohimself. "I had made up my mind to dine with Pinto to-day. "

"And why should you not? Why not meet Pinto at my house?"

"Well, that is not my way, " said St. Aldegonde, but not in a decidedtone. "You know I do not like strangers, and crowds of wine-glasses, andwhat is called all the delicacies of the season. "

"You will meet no one that you do not know and like. It is a littledinner I made for--" and he mentioned Lothair. 

"I like Lothair, " said St. Aldegonde, dreamily. "He is a nice boy. "

"Well, you will have him and Pinto to yourself. "

The large fish languidly rose and swallowed the bait, and the exultingMr. Brancepeth cantered off to Hill Street to give the necessaryinstructions. 

Mr. Pinto was one of the marvels of English society; the most soughtafter of all its members, though no one could tell you exactly why. Hewas a little oily Portuguese, middle-aged, corpulent, and somewhat bald, with dark eyes of sympathy, not unmixed with humor. No one knew who hewas, and in a country the most scrutinizing as to personal details, noone inquired or cared to know. A quarter of a century ago an Englishnoble had caught him in his travels, and brought him young to England, where he had always remained. From the favorite of an individual, he hadbecome the oracle of a circle, and then the idol of society. All thistime his manner remained unchanged. He was never at any time eitherhumble or pretentious. Instead of being a parasite, everybody flatteredhim; and instead of being a hanger-on of society, society hung on Pinto. 

It must have been the combination of many pleasing qualities, ratherthan the possession of any commanding one, that created his influence. He certainly was not a wit yet he was always gay, and always saidthings that made other people merry. His conversation was sparkling, interesting, and fluent, yet it was observed he never gave an opinionon any subject and never told an anecdote. Indeed, he would sometimesremark, when a man fell into his anecdotage, it was a sign for him toretire from the world. And yet Pinto rarely opened his mouth withouteverybody being stricken with mirth. He had the art of viewing commonthings in a fanciful light, and the rare gift of raillery whichflattered the self-love of those whom it seemed sportively not to spare. Sometimes those who had passed a fascinating evening with Pinto wouldtry to remember on the morrow what he had said, and could recallnothing. He was not an intellectual Croesus, but his pockets were fullof six-pences. 

One of the ingredients of his social spell was no doubt his manner, which was tranquil even when he was droll. He never laughed except withhis eyes, and delivered himself of his most eccentric fancies in anunctuous style. He had a rare gift of mimicry, which he used withextreme reserve, and therefore was proportionately effective whendisplayed. Add to all this, a sweet voice, a soft hand, and adisposition both soft and sweet, like his own Azores. It was understoodthat Pinto was easy in his circumstances, though no one know where thesecircumstances were. His equipage was worthy of his position, and in hislittle house in May Fair he sometimes gave a dinner to a fine lady, whowas as proud of the event as the Queen of Sheba of her visit to Solomonthe Great. 

When St. Aldegonde arrived in Hill Street, and slouched into the saloonwith as uncouth and graceless a general mien as a handsome and naturallygraceful man could contrive to present, his keen though listless glanceat once revealed to him that he was as he described it at dinner to HugoBohun in a social jungle, in which there was a great herd of animalsthat he particularly disliked, namely, what he entitled "swells. " Thescowl on his distressed countenance at first intimated a retreat; butafter a survey, courteous to his host, and speaking kindly to Lothair ashe passed on, he made a rush to Mr. Pinto, and, cordially embracing him, said, "Mind we sit together. "

The dinner was not a failure, though an exception to the polishedceremony of the normal Brancepeth banquet. The host headed his table, with the Duke of Brecon on his right and Lothair on his left hand, and"swells" of calibre in their vicinity; but St. Aldegonde sat far away, next to Mr. Pinto, and Hugo Bohun on the other side of that gentleman. Hugo Bohun loved swells, but he loved St. Aldegonde more. The generalconversation in the neighborhood of Mr. Brancepeth did not flag: theytalked of the sport of the morning, and then, by association of ideas, of every other sport. And then from the sports of England they rangedto the sports of every other country. There were several there who hadcaught salmon in Norway and killed tigers in Bengal, and visited thosecountries only for that purpose. And then they talked of horses, andthen they talked of women. 

Lothair was rather silent; for in this society of ancients, the youngestof whom was perhaps not less than five-and-twenty, and some with nearlya lustre added to that mature period, he felt the awkward modesty ofa freshman. The Duke of Brecon talked much, but never at length. Hedecided every thing, at least to his own satisfaction; and if hisopinion were challenged, remained unshaken, and did not conceal it. 

All this time a different scene was enacting at the other end of thetable. St. Aldegonde, with his back turned to his other neighbor, hungupon the accents of Mr. Pinto, and Hugo Bohun imitated St. Aldegonde. What Mr. Pinto said or was saying was quite inaudible, for he alwaysspoke low, and in the present case he was invisible, like an ortolansmothered in vine-leaves; but every now and then St. Aldegonde brokeinto a frightful shout, and Hugo Bohun tittered immensely. Then St. Aldegonde, throwing himself back in his chair, and talking to himself orthe ceiling, would exclaim, "Best thing I ever heard, " while Hugo noddedsympathy with a beaming smile. 

The swells now and then paused in their conversation and glanced at thescene of disturbance. 

"They seem highly amused there, " said Mr. Brancepeth. "I wish they wouldpass it on. "

"I think St. Aldegonde, " said the Duke of Brecon, "is the leastconventional man of my acquaintance. "

Notwithstanding this stern sneer, a practiced general like Mr. Brancepeth felt he had won the day. All his guests would disperse andtell the world that they had dined with him and met St. Aldegonde, and to-morrow there would be a blazoned paragraph in the journalscommemorating the event, and written as if by a herald. What did alittle disturb his hospitable mind was that St. Aldegonde literallytasted nothing. He did not care so much for his occasionally leaning onthe table with both his elbows, but that he should pass by every dishwas distressing. So Mr. Brancepeth whispered to his own valet--a finegentleman, who stood by his master's chair and attended on no one else, except, when requisite, his master's immediate neighbor--and desired himto suggest to St. Aldegonde whether the side-table might not provide, under the difficulties, some sustenance. St. Aldegonde seemed quitegratified by the attention, and said he should like to have some coldmeat. Now, that was the only thing the side-table, bounteous as was itsdisposition, could not provide. All the joints of the season were namedin vain, and pies and preparations of many climes. But nothing wouldsatisfy St. Aldegonde but cold meat. 

"Well, now I shall begin my dinner, " he said to Pinto, when he was atlength served. "What surprises me most in you is your English. There isnot a man who speaks such good English as you do. "

"English is an expressive language, " said Mr. Pinto, "but not difficultto master. Its range is limited. It consists, as far as I can observe, of four words: 'nice, ' 'jolly, ' 'charming, ' and 'bore;' and somegrammarians add 'fond. '"

When the guests rose and returned to the saloon, St. Aldegonde was inhigh spirits, and talked to every one, even to the Duke of Brecon, whomhe considerately reminded of his defeat in the morning, adding that fromwhat he had seen of his grace's guns he had no opinion of them, and thathe did not believe that breech-loaders suited pigeon-shooting. 

Finally, when he bade farewell to his host, St. Aldegonde assured himthat he "never in his life made so good a dinner, and that Pinto hadnever been so rich. "

When the party broke up, the majority of the guests went, sooner orlater, to a ball that was given this evening by Lady St. Jerome. Others, who never went to balls, looked forward with refined satisfaction to anight of unbroken tobacco. St. Aldegonde went to play whist at the houseof a lady who lived out of town. "I like the drive home, " he said; "themorning air is so refreshing when one has lost one's money. "

A ball at St. Jerome House was a rare event, but one highly appreciated. It was a grand mansion, with a real suite of state apartments, includinga genuine ballroom in the Venetian style, and lighted with chandeliersof rock-crystal. Lady St. Jerome was a woman of taste and splendor andromance, who could do justice to the scene and occasion. Even Lord St. Jerome, quiet as he seemed, in these matters was popular with young men. It was known that Lord St. Jerome gave, at his ball suppers, the samechampagne that he gave at his dinners, and that was of the highestclass. In short, a patriot. We talk with wondering execration of thegreat poisoners of past ages, the Borgias, the inventor of aqua tofana, and the amiable Marchioness de Brinvilliers; but Pinto was of opinionthat there were more social poisoners about in the present day than inthe darkest, and the most demoralized periods, and then none of them arepunished; which is so strange, he would add, as they are all found out. 

Lady St. Jerome received Lothair, as Pinto said, with extreme unction. She looked in his eyes, she retained his hand, she said that what shehad heard had made her so happy. And then, when he was retiring, shebeckoned him back and said she must have some tea, and, taking his arm, they walked away together. "I have so much to tell you, " she said, "and every thing is so interesting. I think we are on the eve of greatevents. The monsignore told me your heart was with us. It must be. Theyare your own thoughts, your own wishes. We are realizing your ownideal. I think next Sunday will be remembered as a great day in Englishhistory; the commencement of a movement that may save every thing. Themonsignore, I know, has told you all. "

Not exactly; the Oxford visit had deranged a little the plans of themonsignore, but he had partially communicated the vast scheme. Itseems there was a new society to be instituted for the restoration ofChristendom. The change of name from Christendom to Europe had proved afailure and a disastrous one. "And what wonder?" said Lady St. Jerome. "Europe is not even a quarter of the globe, as the philosopherspretended it was. There is already a fifth division, and probably therewill be many more, as the philosophers announce it impossible. " Thecardinal was to inaugurate the institution on Sunday next at theJesuits' Church, by one of his celebrated sermons. It was to be afunction of the highest class. All the faithful of consideration were toattend, but the attendance was not to be limited to the faithful. Everysincere adherent of church principles who was in a state of prayer andpreparation, was solicited to be present and join in the holy and commonwork of restoring to the Divine Master His kingdom upon earth with itsrightful name. 

It was a brilliant ball. All the "nice" people in London were there. Allthe young men who now will never go to balls were present. This was fromrespect to the high character of Lord St. Jerome. Clare Arundel lookeddivine, dressed in a wondrous white robe garlanded with violets, justarrived from Paris, a present from her god-mother, the Duchess ofLorrain-Sehulenbourg. On her head a violet-wreath, deep and radiantas her eyes, and which admirably contrasted with her dark golden-brownhair. 

Lothair danced with her, and never admired her more. Her manner towardhim was changed. It was attractive, even alluring. She smiled on him, she addressed him in tones of sympathy, even of tenderness. She seemedinterested in all he was doing; she flattered him by a mode which issaid to be irresistible to a man, by talking only of himself. Whenthe dance had finished, he offered to attend her to the tea-room. Sheaccepted the invitation even with cordiality. 

"I think I must have some tea, " she said, "and I like to go with mykinsman. "

Just before supper was announced, Lady St. Jerome told Lothair, to hissurprise, that he was to attend Miss Arundel to the great ceremony. "Itis Clare's ball, " said Lady St. Jerome, "given in her honor, and you areto take care of her. "

"I am more than honored, " said Lothair. "But does Miss Arundel wish it, for, to tell you the truth, I thought I had rather abused her indulgencethis evening?"

"Of course she wishes it, " said Lady St. Jerome. "Who should lead herout on such an occasion--her own ball--than the nearest and dearestrelation she has in the world, except ourselves?"

Lothair made no reply to this unanswerable logic, but was as surprisedas he was gratified. He recalled the hour when the kinship was, at thebest, but coldly recognized, the inscrutable haughtiness, even distrust, with which Miss Arundel listened to the exposition of his views andfeelings, and the contrast which her past mood presented to her presentbrilliant sympathy and cordial greeting. But he yielded to the magic ofthe flowing hour. Miss Arundel, seemed, indeed, quite a changed beingto-night, full of vivacity, fancy, feeling--almost fun. She was witty, and humorous, and joyous, and fascinating. As he fed her with cates asdelicate as her lips, and manufactured for her dainty beverages whichwould not outrage their purity, Lothair, at last, could not refrain fromintimating his sense of her unusual but charming joyousness. 

"No, " she said, turning round with animation, "my natural disposition, always repressed, because I have felt overwhelmed by the desolation ofthe world. But now I have hope; I have more than hope, I have joy. Ifeel sure this idea of the restoration of Christendom comes from Heaven. It has restored me to myself, and has given me a sense of happiness inthis life which I never could contemplate. But what is the climax of myjoy is, that you, after all my own blood, and one in whose career I haveever felt the deepest interest, should be ordained to lay, as it were, the first stone of this temple of divine love. "

It was break of day when Lothair jumped into his brougham. "ThankHeaves, " he exclaimed, "it is at last Friday!"

CHAPTER 29

There is something very pleasant in a summer suburban ride in the valleyof the Thames. London transforms itself into bustling Knightsbridge, andairy Brompton, brightly and gracefully, lingers cheerfully in the long, miscellaneous, well-watered King's-road, and only says farewell whenyou come to an abounding river and a picturesque bridge. The boats werebright upon the waters when Lothair crossed it, and his dark chestnutbarb, proud of its resplendent form, curveted with joy when it reacheda green common, studded occasionally with a group of pines and wellbedecked with gorse. After this he pursued the public road for a coupleof miles until he observed on his left hand a gate on which was written"private road, " and here he stopped. The gate was locked, but, whenLothair assured the keeper that he was about to visit Belmont, he waspermitted to enter. 

He entered a green and winding lane, fringed with tall elms, and dimwith fragrant shade, and, after proceeding about half a mile, came to along, low-built lodge, with a thatched and shelving roof, and surroundedby a rustic colonnade covered with honeysuckle. Passing through the gateat hand, he found himself in a road winding through gently-undulatingbanks of exquisite turf, studded with rare shrubs, and, occasionally, rarer trees. Suddenly the confined scene expanded; wide lawns spreadout before him, shadowed with the dark forms of many huge cedars, andblazing with flower-beds of every hue. The house was also apparent, astately mansion of hewn stone, with wings and a portico of Corinthiancolumns, and backed by deep woods. 

This was Belmont, built by a favorite minister of state, to whom agrateful and gracious sovereign had granted a slice of a royal parkwhereon to raise a palace and a garden, and find occasionally Tusculanrepose. 

The lady of the mansion was at home, and, though Lothair was quiteprepared for this, his heart beat. The inner hall was of nobleproportion, and there were ranged in it many Roman busts, and someancient slabs and altars of marble. These had been collected somecentury ago by the minister; but what immediately struck the eye ofLothair were two statues by an American artist, and both of fame, theSybil and the Cleopatra. He had heard of these, but had never seenthem, and could not refrain from lingering a moment to gaze upon theirmystical and fascinating beauty. 

He proceeded through two spacious and lofty chambers, of which it wasevident the furniture was new. It was luxurious and rich, and full oftaste; but there was no attempt to recall the past in the details; nocabinets and clocks of French kings, or tables of French queens, nochairs of Venetian senators, no candelabra, that had illumined Dogesof Genoa, no ancient porcelain of rare schools, and ivory carvings andchoice enamels. The walls were hung with master-pieces of modern art, chiefly of the French school, Ingres and Delaroche and Scheffer. 

The last saloon led into a room of smaller dimensions, opening on thegarden, and which Lothair at first thought must be a fernery, itseemed so full of choice and expanding specimens of that beautiful andmultiform plant; but, when his eye had become a little accustomed to thescene and to the order of the groups, he perceived they were only therefreshing and profuse ornaments of a regularly furnished and inhabitedapartment. In its centre was a table covered with writing-materials andbooks and some music. There was a chair before the table, so placed asif some one had only recently quitted it; a book was open, but turnedupon its face, with an ivory cutter by its side. It would seem that thedweller in the chamber might not be far distant. The servant invitedLothair to be seated, and, saying that Mrs. Campian must be in thegarden, proceeded to inform his mistress of the arrival of a guest. 

The room opened on a terrace adorned with statues and orange-trees, anddescending gently into a garden in the Italian style, in the centreof which was a marble fountain of many figures. The grounds were notextensive, but they were only separated from the royal park by a wirefence, so that the scene seemed alike rich and illimitable. On theboundary was a summer-house in the shape of a classic temple, one ofthose pavilions of pleasure which nobles loved to raise in the lastcentury. 

As Lothair beheld the scene with gratification, the servant reappearedon the step of the terrace and invited him to descend. Guiding himthrough the garden, the servant retired as Lothair recognized Mrs. Campian approaching them. 

She gave her hand to Lothair and welcomed him cordially but withserenity. They mutually exchanged hopes that their return to town hadbeen agreeable. Lothair could not refrain from expressing how pleased hewas with Belmont. 

"I am glad you approve of our hired home, " said Theodora; "I think wewere fortunate in finding one that suits our tastes and habits. We lovepictures and statues and trees and flowers, and yet we love our friends, and our friends are people who live in cities. "

"I think I saw two statues to-day of which I have often heard, " saidLothair. 

"The Sibyl and Cleopatra! Yes Colonel Campian is rather proud ofpossessing them. He collects only modern art, for which I believe thereis a great future, though some of our friends think it is yet in itscradle. "

"I am very sorry to say, " said Lothair, "that I know very little aboutart, or indeed any thing else, but I admire what is beautiful. I knowsomething about architecture, at least church architecture. "

"Well, religion has produced some of our finest buildings, " saidTheodora; "there is no question of that; and as long as they are adaptedto what takes place in them they are admirable. The fault I find inmodern churches in this country is, that there is little relationbetween the ceremonies and the structure. Nobody seems now consciousthat every true architectural form has a purpose. But I think the climaxof confused ideas is capped when dissenting chapels are built likecathedrals. "

"Ah! to build a cathedral!" exclaimed Lothair, "that is a greatenterprise. I wish I might show you some day some drawings I have of aprojected cathedral. "

"A projected cathedral!" said Theodora. "Well, I must confess to you Inever could comprehend the idea of a Protestant cathedral. "

"But I am not quite sure, " said Lothair, blushing and agitated, "that itwill be a Protestant cathedral. I have not made up my mind about that. "

Theodora glanced at him, unobserved, with her wonderful gray eyes; asort of supernatural light seemed to shoot from beneath their long darklashes and read his inmost nature. They were all this time returning, asshe had suggested, to the house. Rather suddenly she said, "By-the-by, as you are so fond of art, I ought to have asked you whether you wouldlike to see a work by the sculptor of Cleopatra, which arrived when wewere at Oxford. We have placed it on a pedestal in the temple. It is theGenius of Freedom. I may say I was assisting at its inauguration whenyour name was announced to me. "

Lothair caught at this proposal, and they turned and approached thetemple. Some workmen were leaving the building as they entered, and oneor two lingered. 

Upon a pedestal of porphyry rose the statue of a female in marble. Though veiled with drapery which might have become the Goddess ofModesty, admirable art permitted the contour of the perfect form to betraced. The feet were without sandals, and the undulating breadth ofone shoulder, where the drapery was festooned, remained uncovered. Oneexpected with such a shape some divine visage. That was not wanting;but humanity was asserted in the transcendent brow, which beamed withsublime thought and profound enthusiasm. 

Some would have sighed that such beings could only be pictured in apoet's or an artist's dream, but Lothair felt that what he beheld withrapture was no ideal creation, and that he was in the presence of theinspiring original. 

"It is too like!" he murmured. 

"It is the most successful recurrence to the true principles of art inmodern sculpture, " said a gentleman on his right hand. 

This person was a young man, though more than ten years older thanLothair. His appearance was striking. Above the middle height, his form, athletic though lithe and symmetrical, was crowned by a countenanceaquiline but delicate, and from many circumstances of a remarkableradiancy. The lustre of his complexion, the fire of his eye, and hischestnut hair in profuse curls, contributed much to this dazzlingeffect. A thick but small mustache did not conceal his curved lip or thescornful pride of his distended nostril, and his beard, close but notlong, did not veil the singular beauty of his mouth. It was an arrogantface, daring and vivacious, yet weighted with an expression of deep andhaughty thought. 

The costume of this gentleman was rich and picturesque. Suchextravagance of form and color is sometimes encountered in theadventurous toilet of a country house, but rarely experienced in whatmight still be looked upon as a morning visit in the metropolis. 

"You know Mr. Phoebus?" asked a low, clear voice, and turning roundLothair was presented to a person so famous that even Lothair had heardof him. 

Mr. Phoebus was the most successful, not to say the most eminent, painter of the age. He was the descendant of a noble family of Gasconythat had emigrated to England from France in the reign of Louis XIV. Unquestionably they had mixed their blood frequently during the intervaland the vicissitudes of their various life; but, in Gaston Phoebus, Nature, as is sometimes her wont, had chosen to reproduce exactly theoriginal type. He was the Gascon noble of the sixteenth century, withall his brilliancy, bravery, and boastfulness, equally vain, arrogant, and eccentric, accomplished in all the daring or the graceful pursuitsof man, yet nursed in the philosophy of our times. 

"It is presumption in my talking about such things, " said Lothair; "butmight I venture to ask what you may consider the true principles ofart?"

"ARYAN principles, " said Mr. Phoebus; "not merely the study of Nature, but of beautiful Nature; the art of design in a country inhabited bya first-rate race, and where the laws, the manners, the customs, arecalculated to maintain the health and beauty of a first-rate race. Ina greater or less degree, these conditions obtained from the age ofPericles to the age of Hadrian in pure Aryan communities, but Semitismbegan then to prevail, and ultimately triumphed. Semitism has destroyedart; it taught man to despise his own body, and the essence of art is tohonor the human frame. "

"I am afraid I ought not to talk about such things, " said Lothair; "but, if by Semitism you mean religion, surely the Italian painters inspiredby Semitism did something. "

"Great things, " said Mr. Phoebus--"some of the greatest. Semitism gavethem subjects, but the Renaissance gave them Aryan art, and it gave thatart to a purely Aryan race. But Semitism rallied in the shape of theReformation, and swept all away. When Leo the Tenth was pope, popery waspagan; popery is now Christian, and art is extinct. "

"I cannot enter into such controversies, " said Lothair. "Every day Ifeel more and more I am extremely ignorant. "

"Do not regret it, " said Mr. Phoebus. "What you call ignorance is yourstrength. By ignorance you mean a want of knowledge of books. Books arefatal; they are the curse of the human race. Nine-tenths of existingbooks are nonsense, and the clever books are the refutation of thatnonsense. The greatest misfortune that ever befell man was the inventionof printing. Printing has destroyed education. Art is a great thing, andScience is a great thing; but all that art and science can reveal can betaught by man and by his attributes--his voice, his hand, his eye. Theessence of education is the education of the body. Beauty and healthare the chief sources of happiness. Men should live in the air; theirexercises should be regular, varied, scientific. To render his bodystrong and supple is the first duty of man. He should develop andcompletely master the whole muscular system. What I admire in the orderto which you belong is that they do live in the air; that they excel inathletic sports; that they can only speak one language; and that theynever read. This is not a complete education, but it is the highesteducation since the Greek. "

"What you say I feel encouraging, " said Lothair, repressing a smile, "for I myself live very much in the air, and am fond of all sports;but I confess I am often ashamed of being so poor a linguist, and wasseriously thinking that I ought to read. "

"No doubt every man should combine an intellectual with a physicaltraining, " replied Mr. Phoebus; "but the popular conception of the meansis radically wrong. Youth should attend lectures on art and science bythe most illustrious professors, and should converse together afterwardon what they have heard. They should learn to talk; it is a rareaccomplishment, and extremely healthy. They should have music always attheir meals. The theatre, entirely remodelled and reformed, and, under aminister of state, should be an important element of education. I shouldnot object to the recitation of lyric poetry. That is enough. I wouldnot have a book in the house, or even see a newspaper. "

"These are Aryan principles?" said Lothair. 

"They are, " said Mr. Phoebus; "and of such principles, I believe, a great revival is at hand. We shall both live to see anotherRenaissance. "

"And our artist here, " said Lothair, pointing to the statue, "you are ofopinion that he is asserting these principles?"

"Yes; because he has produced the Aryan form by studying the Aryan form. Phidias never had a finer model, and he has not been unequal to it. "

"I fancied, " said Lothair, in a lower and inquiring tone, though Mrs. Campian had some time before glided out of the pavilion, and was givingdirections to the workmen--"I fancied I had heard that Mrs. Campian wasa Roman. "

"The Romans were Greeks, " said Mr. Phoebus, "and in this instance thePhidian type came out. It has not been thrown away. I believe Theodorahas inspired as many painters and sculptors as any Aryan goddess. I lookupon her as such, for I know nothing more divine. "

"I fear the Phidian type is very rare, " said Lothair. 

"In nature and in art there must always be surpassing instances, " saidMr. Phoebus. "It is a law, and a wise one; but, depend upon it, sostrong and perfect a type as the original Aryan must be yet abundantamong the millions, and may be developed. But for this you want greatchanges in your laws. It is the first duty of a state to attend to theframe and health of the subject. The Spartans understood this. Theypermitted no marriage the probable consequences of which might be afeeble progeny; they even took measures to secure a vigorous one. TheRomans doomed the deformed to immediate destruction. The union of theraces concerns the welfare of the commonwealth much too nearly tobe intrusted to individual arrangement. The fate of a nation willultimately depend upon the strength and health of the population. BothFrance and England should look to this; they have cause. As for ourmighty engines of war in the hands of a puny race, it will be the oldstory of the lower empire and the Greek fire. Laws should be passedto secure all this, and some day they will be. But nothing can be doneuntil the Aryan races are extricated from Semitism. "

CHAPTER 30

Lothair returned to town in a not altogether satisfactory state of mind. He was not serene or content. On the contrary, he was rather agitatedand perplexed. He could not say he regretted his visit. He had seen her, and he had seen her to great advantage. He had seen much too that waspleasing, and had heard also many things that, if not pleasing, werecertainly full of interest. And yet, when he cantered back over thecommon, the world somehow did not seem to him so bright and exhilaratingas in the ambling morn. Was it because she was not alone? And yet whyshould he expect she should be alone? She had many friends, and she wasas accessible to them as to himself. And yet a conversation with her, as in the gardens of Blenheim, would have been delightful, and he hadrather counted on it. Nevertheless, it was a great thing to know menlike Mr. Phoebus, and hear their views on the nature of things. Lothairwas very young, and was more thoughtful than studious. His educationhitherto had been, according to Mr. Phoebus, on the right principle, andchiefly in the open air; but he was intelligent and susceptible, and inthe atmosphere of Oxford, now stirred with many thoughts, he had imbibedsome particles of knowledge respecting the primeval races which hadpermitted him to follow the conversation of Mr. Phoebus not absolutelyin a state of hopeless perplexity. He determined to confer with FatherColeman on the Aryan race and the genius of Semitism. As he returnedthrough the park, he observed the duchess, and Lady Corisande in theirbarouche, resting for a moment in the shade, with Lord Carisbrooke onone side and the Duke of Brecon on the other. 

As he was dressing for dinner, constantly brooding on one thought, thecause of his feeling of disappointment occurred to him. He had hopedin this visit to have established some basis of intimacy, and to haveascertained his prospect and his means of occasionally seeing her. Buthe had done nothing of the kind. He could not well call again at Belmontunder a week, but even then Mr. Phoebus or some one else might be there. The world seemed dark. He wished he had never gone to Oxford. Howevera man may plan his life, he is the creature of circumstances. Theunforeseen happens and upsets every thing. We are mere puppets. 

He sat next to an agreeable woman at dinner, who gave him an interestingaccount of a new singer she had heard the night before at the opera--afair Scandinavian, fresh as a lily and sweet as a nightingale. 

"I was resolved to go and hear her, " said the lady; "my sister Feodore, at Paris, had written to me so much about her. Do you know, I have neverbeen to the opera for an age! That alone was quite a treat to me. Inever go to the opera, nor to the play, nor to any thing else. Societyhas become so large and so exacting, that I have found out one nevergets any amusement. "

"Do you know, I never was at the opera?" said Lothair. 

"I am not at all surprised; and when you go--which I suppose you willsome day--what will most strike you is, that you will not see a singleperson you ever saw in your life. "

"Strange!"

"Yes; it shows what a mass of wealth and taste and refinement there isin this wonderful metropolis of ours, quite irrespective of the circlesin which we move, and which we once thought entirely engrossed them. "

After the ladies had retired, Bertram, who dined at the same house, moved up to him; and Hugo Bohun came over and took the vacant seat onhis other side. 

"What have you been doing with yourself?" said Hugo. "We have not seenyou for a week. "

"I went down to Oxford about some horses, " said Lothair. 

"Fancy going down to Oxford about some horses in the heart of theseason, " said Hugo. "I believe you are selling us, and that, as theScorpion announces, you are going to be married. "

"To whom?" said Lothair. 

"Ah! that is the point. It is a dark horse at present, and we want youto tell us. "

"Why do not you marry, Hugo?" said Bertram. 

"I respect the institution, " said Hugo, "which is admitting something inthese days; and I have always thought that every woman should marry, andno man. "

"It makes a woman and it mars a man, you think?" said Lothair. 

"But I do not exactly see how your view would work practically, " saidBertram. 

"Well my view is a social problem, " said Hugo, "and social problems arethe fashion at present. It would be solved through the exceptions, which prove the principle. In the first place, there are your swellswho cannot avoid the halter--you are booked when you are born; and thenthere are moderate men like myself, who have their weak moments. I wouldnot answer for myself if I could find an affectionate family with goodshooting and first-rate claret. "

"There must be many families with such conditions, " said Lothair. 

Hugo shook his head. "You try. Sometimes the wine is good and theshooting bad; sometimes the reverse; sometimes both are excellent, butthen the tempers and the manners are equally bad. "

"I vote we three do something to-morrow, " said Bertram. 

"What shall it be?" said Hugo. 

"I vote we row down to Richmond at sunset and dine, and then drive ourteams up by moonlight. What say you, Lothair?"

"I cannot, I am engaged. I am engaged to go to the opera. "

"Fancy going to the opera in this sweltering weather!" exclaimedBertram. 

"He must be going to be married, " said Hugo. 

And yet on the following evening, though the weather was quite as sultryand he was not going to be married, to the opera Lothair went. While theagreeable lady the day before was dilating at dinner on this once famousentertainment, Lothair remembered that a certain person went thereevery Saturday evening, and he resolved that he should at least have thesatisfaction of seeing her. 

It was altogether a new scene for Lothair, and, being much affected bymusic, he found the general influence so fascinating that some littletime elapsed before he was sufficiently master of himself to recur tothe principal purpose of his presence. His box was on the first tier, where he could observe very generally and yet himself be sufficientlyscreened. As an astronomer surveys the starry heavens until hissearching sight reaches the desired planet, so Lothair's scrutinizingvision wandered till his eye at length lighted on the wished-for orb. In the circle above his own, opposite to him but nearer the stage, herecognized the Campians. She had a star upon her forehead, as when hefirst met her some six months ago; it seemed an age. 

Now what should he do? He was quite unlearned in the social habits ofan opera-house. He was not aware that he had the privilege of paying thelady a visit in her box, and, had he been so, he was really so shy inlittle things that he never could have summoned resolution to open thedoor of his own box and request an attendant to show him that of Mrs. Campian. He had contrived to get to the opera for the first time in hislife, and the effort seemed to have exhausted his social enterprise. Soh remained still, with his glass fixed very constantly on Mrs. Campian, and occasionally giving himself up to the scene. The performance did notsustain the first impression. There were rival prima-donnas, and theyindulged in competitive screams; the choruses were coarse, andthe orchestra much too noisy. But the audience were absorbed orenthusiastic. We may be a musical nation, but our taste would seem torequire some refinement. 

There was a stir in Mrs. Campian's box: a gentleman entered and seatedhimself. Lothair concluded he was an invited guest, and envied him. Inabout a quarter of an hour the gentleman bowed and retired, and anotherperson came in, and one whom Lothair recognized as a young man who hadbeen sitting during the first act in a stall beneath him. The system ofpaying visits at the opera then flashed upon his intelligence, as somediscovery in science upon a painful observer. Why should he not pay avisit too? But how to do it? At last he was bold enough to open the doorof his own box and go forth, but he could find no attendant, and somepersons passing his open door, and nearly appropriating his lodge, in afit of that nervous embarrassment which attends inexperience in littlethings, he secured his rights by returning baffled to his post. 

There had been a change in Mrs. Campian's box in the interval. ColonelCampian had quitted it, and Mr. Phoebus occupied his place. Whether itwere disappointment at his own failure or some other cause, Lothairfelt annoyed. He was hot and cold by turns; felt awkward and blundering;fancied people were looking at him; that in some inexplicable sense hewas ridiculous; wished he had never gone to the opera. 

As time, and considerable time, elapsed, he became even miserable. Mr. Phoebus never moved, and Mrs. Campian frequently conversed with him. More than one visitor had in the interval paid their respects to thelady, but Mr. Phoebus never moved. They did not stay, perhaps becauseMr. Phoebus never moved. 

Lothair never liked that fellow from the first. Sympathy and antipathyshare our being as day and darkness share our lives. Lothair had feltan antipathy for Mr. Phoebus the moment he saw him. He had arrived atBelmont yesterday before Lothair, and he had outstayed him. These mightbe Arian principles, but they were not the principles of good-breeding. 

Lothair determined to go home, and never to come to the opera again. Heopened the door of his box with firmness, and slammed it with courage;he had quite lost his shyness, was indeed ready to run a muck withany one who crossed him. The slamming of the door summoned a scuddingattendant from a distant post, who with breathless devotion inquiredwhether Lothair wanted any thing. 

"Yes, I want you to show me the way to Mrs. Campian's box. "

"Tier above, No. 22, " said the box-keeper. 

"Ay, ay; but conduct me to it, " said Lothair, and he presented the manwith an overpowering honorarium. 

"Certainly, my lord, " said the attendant. 

"He knows me, " thought Lothair; but it was not so. When the Britishnation is at once grateful and enthusiastic, they always call you "mylord. "

But in his progress, to "No. 22, tier above, " all his valor evaporated, and when the box-door was opened he felt very much like a convict on theverge of execution; he changed color, his legs tottered, his heart beat, and he made his bow with a confused vision. The serenity of Theodorasomewhat reassured him, and he seated himself, and even saluted Mr. Phoebus. 

The conversation was vapid and conventional--remarks about the opera andits performers--even the heat of the weather was mentioned. Lothair hadcome, and he had nothing to say. Mrs. Campian seemed much interestedin the performance; so, if he had had any thing to say, there was noopportunity of expressing it. She had not appeared to be so engrossedwith the music before his arrival. In the mean time that Phoebus wouldnot move; a quarter of an hour elapsed, and that Phoebus would not move. Lothair could not stand it any longer; he rose and bowed. 

"Are you going?" said Theodora. "Colonel Campian will be here in amoment; he will be quite grieved not to see you. "

But Lothair was inflexible. "Perhaps, " she added, "we may see youto-morrow night?"

"Never, " said Lothair to himself, as he clinched his teeth; "my visit toBelmont was my first and my last. The dream is over. "

He hurried to a club in which he had been recently Initiated, and ofwhich the chief purpose is to prove to mankind that night to a wise manhas its resources as well as gaudy day. Here striplings mature theirminds in the mysteries of whist, and stimulate their intelligence byplaying at stakes which would make their seniors look pale; here matchesare made; and odds are settled, and the cares or enterprises of lifeare soothed or stimulated by fragrant cheroots or beakers of Badminton. Here, in the society of the listless and freakish St. Aldegonde, andHugo Bohun, and Bertram, and other congenial spirits, Lothair consignedto oblivion the rival churches of Christendom, the Aryan race, and thegenius of Semitism. 

It was an hour past dawn when he strolled home. London is oftenbeautiful in summer at that hour, the architectural lines clear anddefined in the smokeless atmosphere, and ever and anon a fragrant galefrom gardened balconies wafted in the blue air. Nothing is stirringexcept wagons of strawberries and asparagus, and no one visible excepta policeman or a member of Parliament returning from a late division, where they have settled some great question that need never have beenasked. Eve has its spell of calmness and consolation, but dawn bringshope and joy. 

But not to Lothair. Young, sanguine, and susceptible, he had, for amoment, yielded to the excitement of the recent scene, but with hissenses stilled by the morning air, and free from the influence ofBertram's ready sympathy, and Hugo Bohun's gay comments on human life, and all the wild and amusing caprice, and daring wilfulness, and grandaffectation, that distinguish and inspire a circle of patrician youth, there came over him the consciousness that to him something dark hadoccurred, something bitter and disappointing and humiliating, and thatthe breaking morn would not bring to him a day so bright and hopeful ashis former ones. 

At first he fell into profound slumber: it was the inevitable result ofthe Badminton and the late hour. There was a certain degree of physicalexhaustion which commanded repose. But the slumber was not long, and hisfirst feeling, for it could not be called thought, was that some greatmisfortune had occurred to him; and then the thought following thefeeling brought up the form of the hated Phoebus. After that he had noreal sleep, but a sort of occasional and feverish doze with intervalsof infinite distress, waking always to a consciousness of inexpressiblemortification and despair. 

About one o'clock, relinquishing all hope of real and refreshingslumber, he rang his bell, and his valet appearing informed him thatFather Coleman had called, and the monsignore had called, and that nowthe cardinal's secretary had just called, but the valet had announcedthat his lord was indisposed. There was also a letter from Lady St. Jerome. This news brought a new train of feeling. Lothair rememberedthat this was the day of the great ecclesiastical function, under thepersonal auspices of the cardinal, at which indeed Lothair hid neverpositively promised to assist, his presence at which he had sometimesthought they pressed unreasonably, not to say even indelicately, butat which he had perhaps led them, not without cause, to believe that hewould be present. Of late the monsignore had assumed that Lothair hadpromised to attend it. 

Why should he not? The world was all vanity. Never did he feel moreconvinced than at this moment of the truth of his conclusion, that ifreligion were a real thing, man should live for it alone; but then camethe question of the Churches. He could not bring himself without apang to contemplate a secession from the Church of his fathers. He tookrefuge in the wild but beautiful thought of a reconciliation betweenRome and England. If the consecration of the whole of his fortune tothat end could assist in effecting the purpose, he would cheerfully makethe sacrifice. He would then go on a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre, and probably conclude his days in a hermitage on Mount Athos. 

In the mean time he rose, and, invigorated by his bath, his thoughtsbecame in a slight degree more mundane. They recurred to the events ofthe last few days of his life, but in a spirit of self-reproach and ofconscious vanity and weakness. Why, he had not known her a week! Thiswas Sunday morning, and last Sunday he had attended St. Mary's andoffered up his earnest supplications for the unity of Christendom. That was then his sovereign hope and thought. Singular that a casualacquaintance with a stranger, a look, a glance, a word, a nothing, should have so disturbed his spirit and distracted his mind. 

And yet--

And then he fell into an easy-chair, with a hair-brush in either hand, and conjured up in reverie all that had passed since that wondrous mornwhen he addressed her by the road-side, until the last dark hour whenthey parted--and forever. There was not a word she had uttered tohim, or to any one else, that he did not recall; not a glance, nota gesture--her dress, her countenance, her voice, her hair. And whatscenes had all this passed in! What refined and stately loveliness!Blenheim, and Oxford, and Belmont! They became her. Ah! why could notlife consist of the perpetual society of such delightful people in suchdelightful places?

His valet entered and informed him that the monsignore had returned, andwould not be denied. Lothair roused himself from his delicious reverie, and his countenance became anxious and disquieted. He would havestruggled against the intrusion, and was murmuring resistance to hishopeless attendant, who shook his head, when the monsignore glided intothe room without permission, as the valet disappeared. 

It was a wonderful performance: the monsignore had at the same timeto make a reconnoissance and to take up a position--to find out whatLothair intended to do, and yet to act and speak as if he was acquaintedwith those intentions, and was not only aware of, but approved them. Heseemed hurried and yet tranquil, almost breathless with solicitude andyet conscious of some satisfactory consummation. His tones were at alltimes hushed, but to-day he spoke in a whisper, though a whisper ofemphasis, and the dark eyes of his delicate aristocratic visage peeredinto Lothair, even when he was making a remark which seemed to requireno scrutiny. 

"It is one of the most important days for England that have happened inour time, " said the monsignore. "Lady St. Jerome thinks of nothing else. All our nobility will be there--the best blood in England--and someothers who sympathize with the unity of the Church, the real question. Nothing has ever gratified the cardinal more than your intendedpresence. He sent to you this morning. He would have called himself, bathe has much to go through today. His eminence said to me: 'It is exactlywhat I want. Whatever way be our differences, and they are reallyslight, what I want is to show to the world that the sons of the Churchwill unite for the cause of Divine truth. It is the only course that cansave society. ' When Lady St. Jerome told him that you were coming thisevening, his eminence was so affected that--"

"But I never said I was coming this evening, " said Lothair, ratherdryly, and resolved to struggle, "either to Lady St. Jerome or to anyone else. I said I would think of it. "

"But for a Christian to think of duty is to perform it, " said themonsignore. "To be ignorant of a duty is a sin, but to be aware of duty, and not to fulfil it, is heinous. "

"But is it a duty?" said Lothair, rather doggedly. 

"What! to serve God and save society? Do you doubt it? Have you read the'Declaration of Geneva?' They have declared war against the Church, the state, and the domestic principle. All the great truths and lawson which the family reposes are denounced. Have you seen Garibaldi'sletter? When it was read, and spoke of the religion of God beingpropagated throughout the world, there was a universal cry of 'No, no!no religion!' But the religion of God was soon so explained as to allayall their fears. It is the religion of science. Instead of Adam, ourancestry is traced to the most grotesque of creatures, thought isphosphorus, the soul complex nerves, and our moral sense a secretion ofsugar. Do you want these views in England? Rest assured they are coming. And how are we to contend against them? Only by Divine truth. And whereis Divine truth? In the Church of Christ--in the gospel of order, peace, and purity. "

Lothair rose, and paced the room with his eyes on the ground. 

"I wish I had been born in the middle ages, " he exclaimed, "or on theshores of the Sea of Galilee, or in some other planet: anywhere, or atany time, but in this country and in this age!"

"That thought is not worthy of you, my lord, " said Catesby. "It is agreat privilege to live in this country and in this age. It is agreat privilege, in the mighty contest between the good and the evilprinciple, to combat for the righteous. They stand face to face now, asthey have stood before. There is Christianity, which, by revealing thetruth, has limited the license of human reason; there is that humanreason which resists revelation as a bondage--which insists upon beingatheistical, or polytheistical, or pantheistical--which looks upon therequirements of obedience, justice, truth, and purity, as limitationsof human freedom. It is to the Church that God has committed the custodyand execution of His truth and law. The Church, as witness, teacher, andjudge, contradicts and offends the spirit of license to the quick. Thisis why it is hated; this is why it is to be destroyed, and why theyare preparing a future of rebellion, tyranny, falsehood, and degradingdebauchery. The Church alone can save us, and you are asked tosupplicate the Almighty to-night, under circumstances of deep hope, tofavor the union of churchmen, and save the human race from the impendingdeluge. "

Lothair threw himself again into his seat and sighed. "I am ratherindisposed today, my dear monsignore, which is unusual with me, andscarcely equal to such a theme, doubtless of the deepest interest tome and to all. I myself wish, as you well know, that all mankind werepraying under the same roof. I shall continue in seclusion this morning. Perhaps you will permit me to think over what you have said with so muchbeauty and force. "

"I had forgotten that I had a letter to deliver to you, " said Catesby;and he drew from his breast-pocket a note which he handed to Lothair, who opened it quite unconscious of the piercing and even excitedobservation of his companion. 

Lothair read the letter with a changing countenance, and then he readit again and blushed deeply. The letter was from Miss Arundel. After aslight pause, without looking up, he said, "Nine o'clock is the hour, Ibelieve. "

"Yes, " said the monsignore rather eagerly, "but, were I you, I would beearlier than that. I would order my carnage at eight. If you will permitme, I will order it for you. You are not quite well. It will save yousome little trouble, people coming into the room and all that, and thecardinal will be there by eight o'clock. "

"Thank you, " said Lothair; "have the kindness then, my dear monsignore, to order my brougham for me at half-past eight and just say that I cansee no one. Adieu!"

And the priest glided away. 

Lothair remained the whole morning in a most troubled state, pacing hisrooms, leaning sometimes with his arm upon the mantel-piece, and hisface buried in his arm, and often he sighed. About half-past fivehe rang for his valet and, dressed, and in another hour he broke hisfast--a little soup, a cutlet, and a glass or two of claret. And then helooked at his watch; and he looked at his watch every five minutes forthe next hour. 

He was in deep reverie, when the servant announced that his carriage wasready. He started as from a dream, then pressed his hand to his eyes, and kept it there for some moments, and then, exclaiming, "Jacta estalea, " he descended the stairs. 

"Where to, my lord?" inquired the servant when he had entered thecarriage. 

Lothair seemed to hesitate, and then he said, "To Belmont. "

CHAPTER 31

"Belmont is the only house I know that is properly lighted, " said Mr. Phoebus, and he looked with complacent criticism round the brilliantsaloons. "I would not visit any one who had gas in his house; but evenin palaces I find lamps--it is too dreadful. When they came here first, there was an immense chandelier suspended in each of these rooms, pulling down the ceilings, dwarfing the apartments, leaving the guestsall in darkness, and throwing all the light on the roof. The chandelieris the great abomination of furniture; it makes a noble apartment looksmall. And then they say you cannot light rooms without chandeliers!Look at these--need any thing be more brilliant? And all the light inthe right place--on those who are in the chamber. All light should comefrom the side of a room, and if you choose to have candelabra like theseyou can always secure sufficient. "

Theodora was seated on a sofa, in conversation with a lady ofdistinguished mien and with the countenance of a Roman empress. Therewere various groups in the room, standing or seated. Colonel Campian wasattending a lady to the piano where a celebrity presided, a gentlemanwith cropped head and a long black beard. The lady was of extraordinarybeauty--one of those faces one encounters in Asia Minor, rich, glowing, with dark fringed eyes of tremulous lustre; a figure scarcely lessstriking, of voluptuous symmetry. Her toilet was exquisite--perhapsa little too splendid for the occasion, but abstractedly of finetaste--and she held, as she sang, a vast bouquet entirely of whitestove-flowers. The voice was as sweet as the stephanopolis, and theexecution faultless. It seemed the perfection of chamber-singing--noshrieks and no screams, none of those agonizing experiments which resultfrom the fatal competition of rival prima-donnas. 

She was singing when Lothair was ushered in. Theodora rose and greetedhim with friendliness. Her glance was that of gratification at hisarrival, but the performance prevented any conversation save a fewkind remarks interchanged in a hashed tone. Colonel Campian came up: heseemed quite delighted at renewing his acquaintance with Lothair, andbegan to talk rather too loudly, which made some of the gentlemennear the piano turn round with glances of wondering reproach. Thisembarrassed his newly-arrived guest, who in his distress caught the bowof a lady who recognized him, and whom he instantly remembered as Mrs. Putney Giles. There was a vacant chair by her side, and he was glad tooccupy it. 

"Who is that lady?" inquired Lothair of his companion, when the singingceased. 

"That is Madame Phoebus, " said Mrs. Giles. 

"Madame Phoebus!" exclaimed Lothair, with an unconscious feeling of somerelief. "She is a very beautiful woman. Who was she?"

"She is a Cantacuzene, a daughter of the famous Greek merchant. TheCantcuzenes, you know, are great people, descendants of the Greekemperors. Her uncle is prince of Samos. Mr. Cantacuzene was very muchopposed to the match, but I think quite wrong. Mr. Phoebus is a mostdistinguished man, and the alliance is of the happiest. Never was suchmutual devotion. "

"I am not surprised, " said Lothair, wonderfully relieved. 

"Her sister Euphrosyne is in the room, " continued Mrs. Giles, "the mostextraordinary resemblance to her. There is just the difference betweenthe matron and the maiden; that is all. They are nearly of the same age, and before the marriage might have been mistaken for each other. The most charming thing in the world is to hear the two sisters singtogether. I hope they may to-night. I know the family very well. It wasMrs. Cantacuzene who introduced me to Theodora. You know it is quite enr gle to call her Theodora. All the men call her Theodora; 'the divineTheodora' is, I believe, the right thing. "

"And do you call her Theodora?" asked Lothair, rather dryly. 

"Why, no, " said Mrs. Giles, a little confused. "We are not intimate, atleast not very, Ms. Campian has been at my house, and I have been heretwo et three times; not so often as I could wish, for Mr. Giles, yousee, does not like servants and horses to be used on Sundays--and nomore do I--and on weekdays he is too much engaged or too tired to comeout this distance; so you see--"

The singing had ceased, and Theodora approached them. AddressingLothair, she said: "The Princess of Tivoli wishes that you should bepresented to her. "

The Princess of Tivoli was a Roman dame of one of the most illustrioushouses, but who now lived at Paris. She had in her time taken an activepart in Italian politics, and had sacrificed to the cause to which shewas devoted the larger part of a large fortune. What had been spared, however, permitted her to live in the French capital with elegance, ifnot with splendor; and her saloon was the gathering roof, in Paris, of almost every one who was celebrated for genius or accomplishments. Though reputed to be haughty and capricious, she entertained forTheodora an even passionate friendship, and now visited England only tosee her. 

"Madame Campian has been telling me of all the kind things you did forher at Oxford, " said the princess. "Some day you must show me Oxford, but it must be next year. I very much admire the free university life. Tell me now, at Oxford you still have the Protestant religion?"

Lothair ventured to bow assent. 

"Ah! that is well, " continued the princess. "I advise you to keep it. Ifwe had only had the Protestant religion in Italy, things would havebeen very different. You are fortunate in this country in havingthe Protestant religion and a real nobility. Tell me now, in yourconstitution, if the father sits in the Upper Chamber, the son sits inthe Lower House--that I know; but is there any majorat at attached tohis seat?"

"Not at present. "

"You sit in the Lower House, of course?"

"I am not old enough to sit in either House, " said Lothair, "but when Iam of age, which I shall be when I have the honor of showing Oxfordto your highness, I must sit in the Upper House, for I have not theblessing of a living father. "

"Ah! that is a great thing in your country, " exclaimed the princess, "aman being his own master at so early an age. "

"I thought it was a 'heritage of woe, '" said Lothair. 

"No, no, " said the princess; "the only tolerable thing in life isaction, and action is feeble without youth. What if you do not obtainyour immediate object?--you always think you will, and the detail of theadventure is full of rapture. And thus it is the blunders of youth arepreferable to the triumphs of manhood, or the successes of old age. "

"Well, it will be a consolation for me to remember this when I am in ascrape, " said Lothair. 

"Oh! you have many, many scrapes awaiting you, " said the princess. "You may look forward to at least ten years of blunders--that is, illusions--that is, happiness. Fortunate young man!"

Theodora had, without appearing to intend it, relinquished her seatto Lothair, who continued his conversation with the princess, whom heliked, but who, he was sorry to hear, was about to leave England, andimmediately--that very night. "Yes, " she said, "it is my last actof devotion. You know, in my country we have saints and shrines. AllItalians, they say, are fond, are superstitious; my pilgrimage is toTheodora. I must come and worship her once a year. "

A gentleman bowed lowly to the princess, who returned his salute withpleased alacrity. "Do you know who that is?" said the princess toLothair. "That is Baron Gozelius, one of our great reputations. He musthave just arrived. II will present you to him; it is always agreeable toknow a great man, " she added--"at least Goethe says so!"

The philosopher, at her invitation, took a chair opposite the sofa. Though a profound man, he had all the vivacity and passion which aregenerally supposed to be peculiar to the superficial. He had remarkableconversational power, which he never spared. Lothair was captivated byhis eloquence, his striking observations, his warmth, and the flashingof his southern eye. 

"Baron Gozelius agrees with your celebrated pastor, Dr. Cumming, " saidTheodora, with a tinge of demure sarcasm, "and believes that the end ofthe world is at hand. "

"And for the same reasons?" inquired Lothair. 

"Not exactly, " said Theodora, "but in this instance science andrevelation have arrived at the same result, and that is what alldesire. "

"All that I said was, " said Gozelius, "that the action of the sun hadbecome so irregular that I thought the chances were in favor of thedestruction of our planet. At least, if I were a public office, I wouldnot insure it. "

"Yet the risk would not be very great under those circumstances, " saidTheodora. 

"The destruction of this worlds foretold, " said Lothair; "the starsare to fall from the sky; but while I credit, I cannot bring my mind tocomprehend, such a catastrophe. "

"I have seen a world created and a world destroyed, " said Gozelius. "Thelast was flickering ten years, and it went out as I was watching it. "

"And the first?" inquired Lothair, anxiously. 

"Disturbed space for half a century--a great pregnancy. William Herscheltold me it would come when I was a boy, and I cruised for it throughtwo-thirds of my life. It came at last, and it repaid me. "

There was a stir. Euphrosyne was going to sing with her sister. Theyswept by Lothair in their progress to the instrument, like the passageof sultanas to some kiosk on the Bosporus. It seemed to him that he hadnever beheld any thing so resplendent. The air was perfumed by theirmovement and the rustling of their wondrous robes. "They must be of theAryan race, " thought Lothair, "though not of the Phidian type. " Theysang a Greek air, and their sweet and touching voices blended withexquisite harmony. Every one was silent in the room, because every onewas entranced. Then they gave their friends some patriotic lay whichrequired chorus, the sisters, in turn, singing a stanza. Mr. Phoebusarranged the chorus in a moment, and there clustered round the pianoal number of gentlemen almost as good-looking and as picturesque ashimself. Then, while Madame Phoebus was singing, Euphrosyne suddenly, and with quickness, moved away and approached Theodora, and whisperedsomething to her, but Theodora slightly shook her head, and seemed todecline. 

Euphrosyne regained the piano, whispered something to Colonel Campian, who was one of the chorus, and then commenced her own part. ColonelCampian crossed the room and spoke to Theodora, who instantly, withoutthe slightest demur, joined her friends. Lothair felt agitated, ashe could not doubt Theodora was going to sing. And so it was; whenEuphrosyne had finished, and the chorus she had inspired had died away, there rose a deep contralto sound, which, though without effort, seemedto Lothair the most thrilling tone he had ever listened to. Deeper andricher, and richer and deeper, it seemed to become, as it wound withexquisite facility through a symphony of delicious sound, until it endedin a passionate burst, which made Lothair's heart beat so tumultuouslythat for a moment he thought he should be overpowered. 

"I never heard any thing so fine in my life, " said Lothair to the Frenchphilosopher. 

"Ah! if you had heard that woman sing the Marseillaise, as I did once, to three thousand people, then you would know what was fine. Not one ofus who would not have died on the spot for her!"

The concert was over. The Princess of Tivoli had risen to say farewell. She stood apart with Theodora, holding both her hands, and speaking withearnestness. Then she pressed her lips to Theodora's forehead, and said, "Adieu, my best beloved; the spring will return. "

The princess had disappeared, and Madame Phoebus came up to saygood-night to her hostess. 

"It is such a delicious night, " said Theodora, "that I have ordered ourstrawberries-and-cream on the terrace. You must not go. "

And so she invited them all to the terrace. There was not a breathof air, the garden was flooded with moonlight, in which the fountainglittered, and the atmosphere was as sweet as it was warm. 

"I think the moon will melt the ice to-night, " said Theodora, as she ledMadame Phoebus to a table covered with that innocent refreshment in manyforms, and pyramids of strawberries, and gentle drinks which the fancyof America could alone devise. 

"I wonder we did not pass the whole evening on the terrace, " saidLothair. 

"One must sing in a room, " said Euphrosyne, "or the nightingales wouldeclipse us. "

Lothair looked quickly at the speaker, and caught the glance of apeculiar countenance--mockery blended with Ionian splendor. 

"I think strawberries-and-cream the most popular of all food, " saidMadame Phoebus, as some touched her beautiful lips. 

"Yes; and one is not ashamed of eating it, " said Theodora. 

Soon there was that stir which precedes the breaking up of an assembly. Mrs. Giles and some others had to return to town. Madame Phoebus andEuphrosyne were near neighbors at Roehampton, but their carriage hadbeen for some time waiting. Mr. Phoebus did not accompany them. He choseto walk home on such a night, and descended into the garden with hisremaining friends. 

"They are going to smoke, " said Theodora. "Is it your habit?"

"Not yet. "

"I do not dislike it in the air and at a distance; but I banish them theterrace. I think smoking must be a great consolation to a soldier;" and, as she spoke, she moved, and, without formally inviting him, he foundhimself walking by her side. 

Rather abruptly he said, "You wore last night at the opera the sameornament as on the first time I had the pleasure meeting you. "

She looked at him with a smile, and a little surprised. "My solitarytrinket; I fear you will never see any other. "

"But you do not despise trinkets?" said Lothair. 

"Oh no; they are very well. Once I was decked with jewels and ropes ofpearls, like Titian's Queen of Cyprus. I sometimes regret my pearls. There is a reserve about pearls which I like--something soft and dim. But they are all gone, and I ought not to regret them, for they went ina good cause. I kept the star, because it was given to me by a hero; andonce we flattered ourselves it was a symbol. "

"I wish I were a hero!" said Lothair. 

"You may yet prove one. "

"And if I do, may I give you a star?"

"If it be symbolical. "

"But of what?"

"Of an heroic purpose. "

"But what is an heroic purpose?" exclaimed Lothair. "Instead of beinghere to-night, I ought, perhaps, to have been present at a religiousfunction of the highest and deepest import, which might have influencedmy destiny, and led to something heroic. But my mind is uncertain andunsettled. I speak to you without reserve, for my heart always entirelyopens to you, and I have a sort of unlimited confidence in yourjudgment. Besides, I have never forgotten what you said at Oxford aboutreligion--that you could not conceive society without religion. It iswhat I feel myself, and most strongly; and yet there never was a periodwhen religion was so assailed. There is no doubt the atheists arebolder, are more completely organized, both as to intellectual and evenphysical force, than ever was known. I have heard that from the highestauthority. For my own part, I think I am prepared to die for Divinetruth. I have examined myself severely, but I do not think I shouldfalter. Indeed, can there be for man a nobler duty than to be thechampion of God? But then the question of the churches interferes. Ifthere were only one church, I could see my way. Without a church, therecan be no true religion, because otherwise you have no security for thetruth. I am a member of the Church of England, and when I was at OxfordI thought the Anglican view might be sustained. But, of late, I havegiven ray mind deeply to these matters, for, after all, they are theonly matters a man should think of; and, I confess to you, the claim ofRome to orthodoxy seems to me irresistible. "

"You make no distinction, then, between religion and orthodoxy?" saidTheodora. 

"Certainly I make no difference. "

"And yet, what is orthodox at Dover is not orthodox at Calais or Ostend. I should be sorry to think that, because there was no orthodoxy inBelgium or France, there was no religion. "

"Yes, " said Lothair, "I think I see what you mean. "

"Then again, if we go further, " continued Theodora, "there is the wholeof the East; that certainly is not orthodox, according to your views. You may not agree with all or any of their opinions, but you couldscarcely maintain that, as communities, they are irreligious. "

"Well, you could not, certainly, " said Lothair. 

"So you see, " said Theodora, "what is called orthodoxy has very littleto do with religion; and a person may be very religious without holdingthe same dogmas as yourself, or, as some think, without holding any. "

"According to you, then, " said Lothair, "the Anglican view might bemaintained. "

"I do not know what the Anglican view is, " said Theodora. "I do notbelong to the Roman or to the Anglican Church. "

"And yet, you are very religious, " said Lothair. 

"I hope so; I try to be so; and, when I fail in any duty, it is not thefault of my religion. I never deceive myself into that; I know it is myown fault. "

There was a pause; but they walked on. The soft splendor of the sceneand all its accessories, the moonlight, and the fragrance, and thefalling waters, wonderfully bewitched the spirit of the young Lothair. 

"There is nothing I would not tell you, " he suddenly exclaimed, turningto Theodora, "and sometimes I think there is nothing you would not tellme. Tell me, then, I entreat you, what is your religion?"

"The true religion, I think, " said Theodora. "I worship in a churchwhere I believe God dwells, and dwells for my guidance and my good--myconscience. "

"Your conscience may be divine, " said Lothair, "and I believe it is; butthe consciences of other persons are not divine, and what is toguide them, and what is to prevent or to mitigate the evil they wouldperpetrate?"

"I have never heard from priests, " said Theodora, "any truth which myconscience had not revealed to me. They use different language from whatI use, but I find, after a time, that we mean the thing. What I calltime they call eternity; when they describe heaven, they give a pictureof earth; and beings whom they style divine, they invest with all theattributes of humanity. "

"And yet is it not true, " said Lothair, "that--"

But, at this moment, there were the sounds of merriment and ofapproaching footsteps; the form of Mr. Phoebus appeared ascending thesteps of the terrace, followed by others. The smokers had fulfilledtheir task. There were farewells, and bows, and good-nights. Lothair hadto retire with the others, and, as he threw himself into his brougham, he exclaimed: "I perceive that life is not so simple an affair as I oncesupposed. "

CHAPTER 32

When the stranger, who had proved so opportune an ally to Lothair atthe Fenian meeting, separated from his companion, he proceeded in thedirection of Pentonville, and, after pursuing his way through a numberof obscure streets, but quiet, decent, and monotonous, he stopped ata small house in a row of many residences, yet all of them, in, form, size, color, and general character, so identical, that the number onthe door could alone assure the visitor that he was not in error when hesounded the knocker. 

"Ah! is it you, Captain Bruges?" said the smiling and blushing maidenwho answered to his summons. "We have not seen you for a long time. "

"Well, you look as kind and as pretty as ever, Jenny, " said the captain, "and how is my friend?"

"Well, " said the damsel, and she shrugged her shoulders, "he mopes. I'mvery glad you have come back, captain, for he sees very few now, and isalways writing. I cannot bear that writing; if he would only go and takea good walk, I am sure he would be better. "

"There is something in that, " said Captain Bruges. "And is he at home, and will he see me?"

"Oh! he is always at home to you, captain; but I will just run up andtell him you are here. You know it is long since we have seen you, captain--coming on half a year, I think. "

"Time flies, Jenny. Go, my good girl, and I will wait below. "

"In the parlor, if you please, Captain Bruges. It is to let now. It ismore than a mouth since the doctor left us. That was a loss, for, aslong as the doctor was here, he always had some one to speak with. "

So Captain Bruges entered the little dining-room with its mahoganytable, and half a dozen chairs, and cellaret, and over the fireplace aportrait of Garibaldi, which had been left as a legacy to the landladyby her late lodger, Dr. Tresorio. 

The captain threw a quick glance at the print, and then, falling intoreverie, with his hands crossed behind him, paced the little chamber, and was soon lost in thoughts which made him unconscious how long hadelapsed when the maiden summoned him. 

Following her, and ascending the stair-case, he was ushered into thefront room of the first floor, and there came forward to meet him a manrather below the middle height, but of a symmetrical and imposing mien. His face was grave, not to say sad; thought, not time, had partiallysilvered the clustering of his raven hair; but intellectual powerreigned in his wide brow, while determination was the character of therest of his countenance, under great control, yet apparently, from thedark flashing of his eye, not incompatible with fanaticism. 

"General, " he exclaimed, "your presence always reanimates me. I shallat least have some news on which I rely. Your visit is sudden--suddenthings are often happy ones. Is there any thing stirring in the promisedland? Speak, speak! You have a thousand things to say, and I have athousand ears. "

"My dear Mirandola, " replied the visitor, "I will take leave to callinto council a friend whose presence is always profitable. "

So saying, he took out a cigar-case, and offered it to his companion. 

"We have smoked together in palaces, " said Mirandola, accepting theproffer with a delicate white hand. 

"But not these cigars, " replied the general. "They are superb, my onlyreward for all my transatlantic work, and sometimes I think a sufficientone. "

"And Jenny shall give us a capital cup of coffee, " said Mirandola; "itis the only hospitality that I can offer my friends. Give me a light, mygeneral; and now, how are things?"

"Well, at the first glance, very bad; the French have left Rome, and weare not in it. "

"Well, that is an infamy not of today or yesterday, " replied Mirandola, "though not less an infamy. We talked over this six months ago, whenyou were over here about something else, and from that moment unto thepresent I have with unceasing effort labored to erase this stigma fromthe human consciousness, but with no success. Men are changed; publicspirit is extinct; the deeds of '48 are to the present generations asincomprehensible as the Punic wars, or the feats of Marius against theCimbri. What we want are the most natural things in the world, and easyof attainment because they are natural. We want our metropolis, our native frontiers, and true liberty. Instead of these, we havecompromises, conventions, provincial jealousies, and French prefects. It is disgusting, heart-rending; sometimes I fear my own energies arewaning. My health is wretched; writing and speaking are decidedly badfor me, and I pass my life in writing and speaking. Toward evening Ifeel utterly exhausted, and am sometimes, which I thought I never couldbe, the victim of despondency. The loss of the doctor was a severe blow, but they hurried him out of the place. The man of Paris would never resttill he was gone. I was myself thinking of once more trying Switzerland, but the obstacles are great; and, in truth, I was at the darkest momentwhen Jenny brought me the light of your name. "

The general, who had bivouacked on a group of small chairs, his leg onone, his elbow on another, took his cigar from his mouth and deliveredhimself of a volume of smoke, and then said dryly: "Things may not be sobad as they seem, comrade. Your efforts have not been without fruit. I have traced them in many quarters, and, indeed, it is about theirpossible consequences that I have come over to consult with you. "

"Idle words, I know, never escape those lips, " said Mirandola; "speakon. "

"Well, " said the general, "you see that people are a little exhaustedby the efforts of last year; and it must be confessed that no slightresults were accomplished. The freedom of Venice--"

"A French intrigue, " exclaimed Mirandola. "The freedom of Venice is theprice of the slavery of Rome. I heard of it with disgust. "

"Well, we do not differ much on that head, " said the general. "I am nota Roman as you are, but I view Rome, with reference to the object ofmy life, with feelings not less ardent and absorbing than yourself, whowould wish to see it again the empress of the world. I am a soldier, andlove war, and, left to myself, would care little perhaps for what formof government I combated, provided the army was constituted on theprinciples of fraternity and equality; but the passion of my life, towhich I have sacrificed military position, and perhaps, " he added ina lower tone, "perhaps even military fame, has been to destroypriestcraft, and, so long as the pope rules in Rome, it will besupreme. "

"We have struck him down once, " said Mirandola. 

"And I hope we shall again, and forever, " said the general, "and itis about that I would speak. You are in error in supposing that yourfriends do not sympathize with you, or that their answers are dilatoryor evasive. There is much astir; the old spirit is not extinct, butthe difficulties are greater than in former days when we had only theAustrians to encounter, and we cannot afford to make another failure. "

"There could be no failure if we were clear and determined. There mustbe a hundred thousand men who would die for our metropolis, our naturalfrontiers, and true liberty. The mass of the pseudo-Italian army mustbe with us. As for foreign interference, its repetition seems to meimpossible. The brotherhood in the different countries, if well guided, could alone prevent it. There should be at once a manifesto addressed tothe peoples. They have become absorbed in money-grubbing and what theycall industry. The external life of a nation is its most important one. A nation, as an individual, has duties to fulfil appointed by God andHis moral law; the individual toward his family, his town, his country;the nation toward the country of countries, humanity--the outward world. I firmly believe that we fail and renounce the religious and divineelement of our life whenever we betray or neglect those duties. Theinternal activity of a nation is important and sacred because itprepares the instrument for its appointed task. It is mere egotism if itconverges toward itself, degrading and doomed to expiation--as will bethe fate of this country in which we now dwell, " added Mirandola in ahushed voice. "England had a mission; it had belief, and it had power. It announced itself the representative of religious, commercial, andpolitical freedom, and yet, when it came to action, it allowed Denmarkto be crushed by Austria and Prussia, and, in the most nefarioustransaction of modern times, uttered the approving shriek of 'PerishSavoy!'"

"My dear Mirandola, " said the general, trimming his cigar, "there is noliving man who appreciates your genius and your worth more thanmyself; perhaps I might say there is no living man who has had equalopportunities of estimating them. You formed the mind of our country;you kindled and kept alive the sacred flame when all was gloom, andall were without heart. Such prodigious devotion, so much resourceand pertinacity and patience, such unbroken spirit, were never beforeexhibited by man; and, whatever may be said by your enemies, I know thatin the greatest hour of action you proved equal to it; and yet at thismoment, when your friends are again stirring, and there is a hope ofspring, I am bound to tell you that there are only two persons in theworld who can effect the revolution, and you are not one of them. "

"I am ardent, my general, perhaps too sanguine, but I have no self-love, at least none when the interests of the great cause are at stake. Tellme, then, their names, and count, if required, on my cooperation. "

"Garibaldi and Mary-Anne. "

"A Polchinello and a Bayadere!" exclaimed Mirandola, and, springing fromhis seat, he impatiently paced the room. 

"And yet, " continued the general calmly, "there is no manner of doubtthat Garibaldi is the only name that could collect ten thousand menat any given point in Italy; while in France, though her influenceis mythical, the name of Mary-Anne is a name of magic. Though nevermentioned, it is never forgotten. And the slightest allusion to it amongthe initiated will open every heart. There are more secret societiesin France at this moment than at any period since '85, though you hearnothing of them; and they believe in Mary-Anne, and in nothing else. "

"You have been at Caprera?" said Mirandola. 

"I have been at Caprera. "

"And what did he say?"

"He will do nothing without the sanction of the Savoyard. "

"He wants to get wounded in his other foot, " said Mirandola, with savagesarcasm. "Will he never weary of being betrayed?"

"I found him calm and sanguine, " said the general. 

"What of the woman?"

"Garibaldi will not move without the Savoyard, and Mary-Anne will notmove without Garibaldi; that is the situation. "

"Have you seen her?"

"Not yet; I have been to Caprera, and I have come over to see her andyou. Italy is ready for the move, and is only waiting for the great man. He will not act without the Savoyard; he believes in him. I will not beskeptical. There are difficulties enough without imagining any. We haveno money, and all our sources of supply are drained; but we have theinspiration of a sacred cause, we have you--we may gain others--and, atany rate, the French are no longer at Rome. "

CHAPTER 33

"The Goodwood Cup, my lord--the Doncaster. This pair of flagons for hishighness the Khedive--something quite new--yes, parcel-gilt, the onlystyle now--it gives relief to design--yes, by Monti, a great man, hardlyinferior to Flaxman, if at all. Flaxman worked for. Rundell and Bridgein the old days--one of the principal causes of their success. Yourlordship's gold service was supplied by Rundell and Bridge. Very fineservice indeed, much by Flaxman--nothing of that kind seen now. "

"I never did see it, " said Lothair. He was replying to Mr. Ruby, acelebrated jeweller and goldsmith, in a celebrated street, who hadsaluted him when he had entered the shop, and called the attention ofLothair to a group of treasures of art. 

"Strange, " said Mr. Ruby smiling. "It is in the next room, if yourlordship would like to see it. I think your lordship should see yourgold service. Mr. Putney Giles ordered it here to be examined and put inorder. "

"I should like to see it very much, " said Lothair, "though I came tospeak to you about something else. "

And so Lothair, following Mr. Ruby into an inner apartment, had thegratification, for the first time, of seeing his own service of goldplate laid out in completeness, and which had been for some timeexhibited to the daily admiration of that favored portion of the Englishpeople who frequent the brilliant and glowing counters of Mr. Ruby. 

Not that Lothair was embarrassed by their presence at this moment. Thehour of their arrival had not yet come. Business had not long commencedwhen Lothair entered the shop, somewhat to the surprise of its master. Those who know Bond Street only in the blaze of fashionable hours canform but an imperfect conception of its matutinal charm when it isstill shady and fresh--when there are no carriages, rarely a cart, and passers-by gliding about on real business. One feels as in someContinental city. Then there are time and opportunity to look at theshops; and there is no street in the world that can furnish such acollection, filled with so many objects of beauty, curiosity, andinterest. The jewellers and goldsmiths and dealers in rare furniture, porcelain, and cabinets, and French pictures, have long fixed upon BondStreet as their favorite quarter, and are not chary of displaying theirtreasures; though it may be a question whether some of the magazinesof fancy food--delicacies culled from all the climes and regions of theglobe--particularly at the matin hour, may not, in their picturesquevariety, be the most attractive. The palm, perhaps, would be given tothe fish-mongers, with their exuberant exhibitions, grouped with skill, startling often with strange forms, dazzling with prismatic tints, andbreathing the invigorating redolence of the sea. 

"Well, I like the service, " said Lothair, "and am glad, as you tellme, that its fashion has come round again, because there will now be nonecessity for ordering a new one. I do not myself much care for plate. I like flowers and porcelain on a table, and I like to see the guests. However, I suppose it is all right, and I must use it. It was not aboutplate that I called; I wanted to speak to you about pearls. "

"Ah!" said Mr. Ruby, and his face brightened; and, ushering Lothair tosome glass cases, he at the same time provided his customer with a seat. 

"Something like that?" said Mr. Ruby, who by this time had slid intohis proper side of the counter, and was unlocking the glass cases;"something like that?" and he placed before Lothair a string of prettypearls with a diamond clasp. "With the earrings, twenty-five hundred, "he added; and then, observing that Lothair did not seem enchanted, hesaid, "This is something quite new, " and he carelessly pushed towardLothair a magnificent necklace of turquoises and brilliants. 

It was impossible not to admire it--the arrangement was so novel and yetof such good taste; but, though its price was double that of the pearlnecklace, Mr. Ruby did not seem to wish to force attention to it, for heput in Lothair's hands almost immediately the finest emerald necklace inthe world, and set in a style that was perfectly ravishing. 

"The setting is from the Campana collection, " said Mr. Ruby. "Theycertainly understood things in those days, but I can say that, so far asmere workmanship is concerned, this quite equals them. I have made onefor the empress. Here is a black pearl, very rare, pear-shape, and setin Golconda diamonds--two thousand guineas--it might be suspended toa necklace, or worn as a locket. This is pretty, " and he offered toLothair a gigantic sapphire in brilliants and in the form of a bracelet. 

"The finest sapphire I know is in this ring, " added Mr. Ruby, and heintroduced his visitor to a tray of precious rings. "I have a pearlbracelet here that your lordship might like to see, " and he placedbefore Lothair a case of fifty bracelets, vying with each other insplendor. 

"But what I want, " said Lothair, "are pearls. "

"I understand, " said Mr. Ruby. "This is a curious thing, " and he tookout a paper packet. "There!" he said, opening it and throwing itbefore Lothair so carelessly that some of the stones ran over the glasscovering of the counter. "There, that is a thing, not to be seen everyday--packet of diamonds, bought of an Indian prince, and sent by us tobe cut and polished at Amsterdam--nothing can be done in that way exceptthere--and just returned--nothing very remarkable as to size, but allof high quality--some fine stones--that for example, " and he touched onewith the long nail of his little finger; "that is worth seven hundredguineas, the whole packet worth perhaps ten thousand pounds. "

"Very interesting, " said Lothair, "but what I want are pearls. Thatnecklace which you have shown me is like the necklace of a doll. Iwant pearls, such as you see them in Italian pictures--Titians andGiorgiones--such as a Queen of Cyprus would wear. I want ropes ofpearls. "

"Ah!" said Mr. Ruby, "I know what your lordship means. Lady Bideford hadsomething of that kind. She very much deceived us--always told us hernecklace must be sold at her death, and she had very bad health. Wewaited, but when she went, poor lady, it was claimed by the heir, andis in chancery at this very moment. The Justinianis have ropes ofpearls--Madame Justiniani of Paris, I have been told, gives a rope toevery one of her children when they marry--but there is no expectationof a Justiniani parting with any thing. Pearls are troublesome property, my lord. They require great care; they want both air and exercise; theymust be worn frequently; you cannot lock them up. The Duchess of Havanthas the finest pearls in this country, and I told her grace, 'Wear themwhenever you can; wear them at breakfast, ' and her grace follows myadvice--she does wear them at breakfast. I go down to Havant Castleevery year to see her grace's pearls, and I wipe every one of themmyself, and let them lie on a sunny bank in the garden, in a westerlywind, for hours and days together. Their complexion would have beenruined had it not been for this treatment. Pearls are like girls, mylord--they require quite as much attention. "

"Then you cannot give me what I want?" said Lothair. 

"Well, I can, and I cannot, " said Mr. Ruby. "I am in a difficulty. I have in this house exactly what your lordship requires, but I haveoffered them to Lord Topaz, and I have not received his answer. We haveinstructions to inform his lordship of every very precious jewel that weobtain, and give him the preference as a purchaser. Nevertheless, there is no one I could more desire to oblige than your lordship--yourlordship has every claim upon us, and I should be truly glad to findthese pearls in your lordship's possession if I could only see my way. Perhaps your lordship would like to look at them?"

"Certainly, but pray do not leave me here alone with all thesetreasures, " said Lothair, as Mr. Ruby was quitting the apartment. 

"Oh! my lord, with you!"

"Yes, that is all very well; but, if any thing is missed hereafter, itwill always be remembered that these jewels were in my possession, andI was alone. I highly object to it. " But Mr. Ruby had vanished, and didnot immediately reappear. In the mean time it was impossible for Lothairto move: he was alone, and surrounded with precious necklaces, andglittering rings, and gorgeous bracelets, with loose diamonds runningover the counter. It was not a kind or an amount of property thatLothair, relinquishing the trust, could satisfactorily deliver to ashopman. The shopman, however honest, might be suddenly tempted bySatan, and take the next train to Liverpool. He felt therefore relievedwhen Mr. Ruby reentered the room, breathless, with a velvet casket. "Ibeg pardon, my lord, a thousand pardons, but I thought I would justrun over to Lord Topaz, only in the square close by. His lordship isat Madrid, the only city one cannot depend on communications with bytelegraph. Spaniards strange people, very prejudiced, take all sorts offancies in their head. Besides, Lord Topaz has more pearls than he canknow what to do with, and I should like your lordship to see these, " andhe opened the casket. 

"Exactly what I want, " exclaimed Lothair; "these must be the very pearlsthe Queen of Cyprus wore. What is their price?"

"They are from Genoa, and belonged to a doge, " said Mr. Ruby; "yourlordship shall have them for the sum we gave for them. There shall be noprofit on the transaction, and we shall be proud of it. We gave for themfour thousand guineas. "

"I will take them with me, " said Lothair, who was afraid, if lie leftthem behind, Lord Topaz might arrive in the interval. 

CHAPTER 34

Lothair had returned home from his last visit to Belmont agitated bymany thoughts, but, generally speaking, deeply musing over its mistress. Considerable speculation on religion, the churches, the solar system, the cosmical order, the purpose of creation, and the destiny of man, wasmaintained in his too rapid progress from Roehampton to his Belgravianhotel; but the association of ideas always terminated the considerationof every topic by a wondering and deeply interesting inquiry when heshould see her again. And here, in order to simplify this narrative, we will at once chronicle the solution of this grave question. On theafternoon of the next day, Lothair mounted his horse with the intentionof calling on Lady St. Jerome, and perhaps some other persons, but it iscurious to observe that he soon found himself on the road to Roehampton, where he was in due time paying a visit to Theodora. But what ismore remarkable is that the same result occurred every day afterward. Regularly every day he paid a visit to Belmont. Nor was this all; veryoften he paid two visits, for he remembered that in the evening Theodorawas always at home. Lothair used to hurry to town from his morningvisit, dine at some great house, which satisfied the demands of society, and then drive down to Roehampton. The guests of the evening saloon, when they witnessed the high ceremony of Lothair's manner, which wasnatural to him, when he entered, and the welcome of Theodora, couldhardly believe that a few hours only had elapsed since their separation. 

And what was the manner of Theodora to him when they were alone?Precisely as before. She never seemed in the least surprised that hecalled on her every day, or even twice a day. Sometimes she was alone, frequently she had companions, but she was always the same, alwaysappeared gratified at his arrival, and always extended to him the samewelcome, graceful and genial, but without a spark of coquetry. Yetshe did not affect to conceal that she took a certain interest in him, because she was careful to introduce him to distinguished men, and wouldsay, "You should know him, he is master of such a subject. You willhear things that you ought to know. " But all this in a sincere andstraightforward manner. Theodora had not the slightest affectation; shewas always natural, though a little reserved. But this reserve appearedto be the result of modesty, rather than of any desire of concealment. When they were alone, though always calm, she would talk with freedomand vivacity; but in the presence of others she rather led to theirdisplay, and encouraged them, often with a certain degree of adroitsimplicity, to descant on topics which interested theme or of which theywere competent to treat. Alone with Lothair, and they were often alone, though she herself never obtruded the serious subjects round which hewas always fluttering, she never avoided them, and without involvingherself in elaborate arguments, or degenerating into conversationalcontroversy, she had a habit of asking a question, or expressinga sentiment, which greatly affected his feelings or perplexed hisopinions. 

Had not the season been long waning, this change in the life of Lothairmust have been noticed, and its cause ultimately discovered. But thesocial critics cease to be observant toward the end of July. All theworld then are thinking of themselves, and have no time to speculate onthe fate and fortunes of their neighbors. The campaign is too near its. Close; the balance of the season must soon be struck, the great book ofsociety made. In a few weeks, even in a few days, what long and subtleplans shattered or triumphant!--what prizes gained or missed!--whatbaffled hopes, and what broken hearts! The baffled hopes must go toCowes, and the broken hearts to Baden. There were some great ladies whodid remark that Lothair was seldom seen at balls; and Hugo Bohun, whohad been staying at his aunt Lady Gertrude's villa for change of air, did say to Bertram that he had met Lothair twice on Barnes Common, andasked Bertram if he knew the reason why. But the fact that Lothair wascruising in waters which their craft never entered combined with thelateness of the season to baffle all the ingenuity of Hugo Bohun, thoughhe generally found out every thing. 

The great difficulty which Lothair had to apprehend was with his RomanCatholic friends. The system of the monsignori was never to let him beout of sight, and his absence from the critical function had not onlydisappointed but alarmed them. But the Jesuits are wise men; they neverlose their temper. They know when to avoid scenes as well as when tomake them. Monsignore Catesby called on Lothair as frequently as before, and never made the slightest allusion to the miscarriage of theirexpectations. Strange to say, the innocent Lothair, naturally sostraightforward and so honorable, found himself instinctively, almost itmight be said unconsciously, defending himself against his invaders withsome of their own weapons. He still talked about building his cathedral, of which, not contented with more plans, he even gave orders that amodel should be made, and he still received statements on points offaith from Father Coleman, on which he made marginal notes and queries. Monsignore Catesby was not altogether satisfied. He was suspiciousof some disturbing cause, but at present it baffled him. Their hopes, however, were high; and they had cause to be sanguine. In a month's timeor so, Lothair would be in the country to celebrate his majority; hisguardian the cardinal was to be his guest; the St. Jeromes were invited, Monsignore Catesby himself. Here would be opportunity and actors toavail themselves of it. 

It was a very few days after the first evening visit of Lothair toBelmont that he found himself one morning alone with Theodora. She wasin her bowery boudoir, copying some music for Madame Phoebus, atleast in the intervals of conversation. That had not been of a gravecharacter, but the contrary when Lothair rather abruptly said, "Do youagree, Mrs. Campian, with what Mr. Phoebus said the other night, thatthe greatest pain must be the sense of death?"

"Then mankind is generally spared the greatest pain, " she replied, "forI apprehend few people are sensible of death--unless indeed, " sheadded, "it be on the field of battle; and there, I am sure, it cannot bepainful. "

"Not on the field of battle?" asked Lothair, inducing her to proceed. 

"Well, I should think for all, on the field of battle, there must be adegree of excitement, and of sympathetic excitement, scarcely compatiblewith overwhelming suffering; but, if death were encountered there for agreat cause, I should rather associate it with rapture than pain. "

"But still a good number of persons must die in their beds and beconscious, " said Lothair. 

"It may be, though I should doubt it. The witnesses of such a demise arenever impartial. All I have loved and lost have died upon the field ofbattle; and those who have suffered pain have been those whom they haveleft behind; and that pain, " she added with some emotion, "may perhapsdeserve the description of Mr. Phoebus. "

Lothair would not pursue the subject, and there was rather an awkwardpause. Theodora herself broke it, and in a lighter vein, thoughrecurring to the same theme, she said with a slight smile: "I amscarcely a competent person to consult upon this subject, for, to becandid with you, I do not myself believe in death. There is a change, and doubtless a great one, painful it may be, certainly very perplexing, but I have a profound conviction of my immortality, and I do notbelieve that I shall rest in my grave in saecula saeculorum, only to beconvinced of it by the last trump. "

"I hope you will not leave this world before I do, " said Lothair, "but, if that sorrow be reserved for me, promise that to me, if only once, youwill reappear. "

"I doubt whether the departed have that power, " said Theodora, "orelse I think my heroes would have revisited me. I lost a father moremagnificent than Jove, and two brothers brighter than Apollo, and all ofthem passionately loved me--and yet they have not come; but I shallsee them--and perhaps soon. So you see, my dear lord, " speaking morebriskly, and rising rather suddenly from her seat, "that for my part Ithink it best to arrange all that concerns one in this world while oneinhabits it, and this reminds me that I have a little business to fulfilin which you can help me, " and she opened a cabinet and took out a flatantique case, and then said, resuming her seat at her table: "Some one, and anonymously, has made me a magnificent present; some strings ofcostly pearls. I am greatly embarrassed with them, for I never wearpearls or anything else, and I never wish to accept presents. To returnthem to an unknown is out of my power, but it is not impossible that Imay some day become acquainted with the donor. I wish them to be kept insafety, and therefore not by myself, for my life is subject to too greatvicissitudes. I have therefore placed them in this case, which I shallnow seal and intrust them to your care, as a friend in whom I haveentire confidence. See, " she said, lighting a match, and opening thecase, "here are the pearls--are they not superb?--and here is a notewhich will tell you what to do with them in case of my absence, when youopen the case, which will not be for a year from this day. There, it islocked. I have directed it to you, and I will seal it with my father'sseal. "

Lothair wag about to speak. "Do not say a word, " she said "this seal isa religious ceremony with me. " She was some little time fulfillingit, so that the impression might be deep and clear. She looked at itearnestly while the wax was cooling, and then she said, "I deliverthe custody of this to a friend whom I entirely trust. Adieu!" and shedisappeared. 

The amazed Lothair glanced at the seal. It was a single word, "ROMA, "and then, utterly mystified, he returned to town with his own present. 

CHAPTER 35

Mr. Phoebus had just finished a picture which he had painted for theEmperor of Russia. It was to depart immediately from England for itsnorthern home, except that his imperial majesty had consented that itshould be exhibited for a brief space to the people of England. This wasa condition which Mr. Phoebus had made in the interests of art, and as adue homage alike to his own patriotism and celebrity. 

There was to be a private inspection of the picture at the studio of theartist, and Mr. Phoebus had invited Lothair to attend it. Our friendhad accordingly, on the appointed day, driven down to Belmont and thenwalked to the residence of Mr. Phoebus with Colonel Campian and hiswife. It was a short and pretty walk, entirely through the royal park, which the occupiers of Belmont had the traditionary privilege thus touse. 

The residence of Mr. Phoebus was convenient and agreeable, and insituation not unlike that of Belmont, being sylvan and sequestered. He had himself erected a fine studio, and added it to the originalbuilding. The flower-garden was bright and curious, and on the lawn wasa tent of many colors, designed by himself and which might have suitedsome splendid field of chivalry. Upon gilt and painted perches, also, there were paroquets and macaws. 

Lothair on his arrival found many guests assembled, chiefly on thelawn. Mr. Phoebus was highly esteemed, and had distinguished and eminentfriends, whose constant courtesies the present occasion allowed himelegantly to acknowledge. There was a polished and gray-headed noble whowas the head of the patrons of art in England, whose nod of approbationsometimes made the fortune of a young artist, and whose purchase ofpictures for the nation even the furious cognoscenti of the House ofCommons dared not question. Some of the finest works of Mr. Phoebus wereto be found in his gallery; but his lordship admired Madame Phoebus evenmore than her husband's works, and Euphrosyne as much as her sister. It was sometimes thought, among their friends, that this young lady hadonly to decide in order to share the widowed coronet; but Euphrosynelaughed at every thing, even her adorers; and, while her witchingmockery only rendered them more fascinated, it often prevented criticaldeclarations. 

And Lady Beatrice was there, herself an artist, and full of aestheticalenthusiasm. Her hands were beautiful, and she passed her life inmodelling them. And Cecrops was there, a rich old bachelor, with, it wassupposed, the finest collection of modern pictures extant. His theorywas, that a man could not do a wiser thing than invest the whole of hisfortune in such securities, and it led him to tell his numerous nephewsand nieces that he should, in all probability, leave his collection tothe nation. 

Clorinda, whose palace was always open to genius, and who delightedin the society of men who had discovered planets, excavated primevalmounds, painted pictures on new principles, or composed immortal poemswhich no human being could either scan or construe, but which shedelighted in as "subtle" and full of secret melody, came leaning on thearms of a celebrated plenipotentiary, and beaming with sympathy on everysubject, and with the consciousness of her universal charms. 

And the accomplished Sir Francis was there, and several R. A. S ofeminence, for Phoebus was a true artist, and loved the brotherhood, andalways placed them in the post of honor. 

No language can describe the fascinating costume of Madame Phoebus andher glittering sister. "They are habited as sylvans, " the great artistdeigned to observe, if any of his guests could not refrain from admiringthe dresses; which he had himself devised. As for the venerable patronof art in Britain, he smiled when he met the lady of the house, andsighed when he glanced at Euphrosyne; but the first gave him a beautifulflower, and the other fastened it in his button-hole. He looked likea victim bedecked by the priestesses of some old fane of Hellenicloveliness, and proud of his impending fate. What could the Psalmistmean in the immortal passage? Three-score-and-ten, at the present day, is the period of romantic passions. As for our enamoured sexagenarians, they avenge the theories of our cold-hearted youth. 

Mr. Phoebus was an eminent host. It delighted him to see peoplepleased, and pleased under his influence. He had a belief, not withoutfoundation, that every thing was done better under his roof than underthat of any other person. The banquet in the air on the present occasioncould only be done justice to by the courtly painters of the reignof Louis XV. Vanloo, and Watteau, and Lancres, would have caught thegraceful group and the well-arranged colors, and the faces, some pretty, some a little affected; the ladies on fantastic chairs of wicker-work, gilt and curiously painted; the gentlemen reclining on the turf, orbending behind them with watchful care. The little tables all different, the soups in delicate cups of Sevres, the wines in golden glass ofVenice, the ortolans, the Italian confectionery, the endless bouquets, were worthy of the soft and invisible music that resounded from thepavilion, only varied by the coquettish scream of some macaw, jealous, amid all this novelty and excitement, of not being noticed. 

"It is a scene of enchantment, " whispered the chief patron of Britishart to Madame Phoebus. 

"I always think luncheon in the air rather jolly, " said Madame Phoebus. 

"It is perfect romance!" murmured the chief patron of British art toEuphrosyne. 

"With a due admixture of reality, " she said, helping him to an enormoustruffle, which she extracted from its napkin. "You know you must eat itwith butter. "

Lothair was glad to observe that, though in refined society, nonewere present with whom he had any previous acquaintance, for he had aninstinctive feeling that if Hugo Bohun had been there, or Bertram, or the Duke of Brecon, or any ladies with whom he was familiarlyacquainted, he would scarcely have been able to avail himself of thesociety of Theodora with the perfect freedom which he now enjoyed. Theywould all have been asking who she was, where she came from, how longLothair had known her, all those questions, kind and neighborly, whichunder such circumstances occur. He was in a distinguished circle, butone different from that in which he lived. He sat next to Theodora, andMr. Phoebus constantly hovered about them, ever doing something verygraceful, or saying something very bright. Then he would whisper a wordto the great Clorinda, who flashed intelligence from her celebratedeyes, and then he made a suggestion to the aesthetical Lady Beatrice, who immediately fell into enthusiasm and eloquence, and took theopportunity of displaying her celebrated hands. 

The time had now arrived when they were to repair to the studio and viewthe picture. A curtain was over it, and then a silken rope across thechamber, and then some chairs. The subject of the picture was Hero andLeander, chosen by the heir of all the Russias himself, during a latevisit to England. 

"A fascinating subject, " said old Cecrops to Mr. Phoebus, "but not avery original one. "

"The originality of a subject is in its treatment, " was the reply. 

The theme, in the present instance, was certainly not conventionallytreated. When the curtain was withdrawn, they beheld a figure oflife-like size, exhibiting in undisguised completeness the perfection ofthe female form, and yet the painter had so skilfully availed himselfof the shadowy and mystic hour, and of some gauze-like drapery, whichveiled without concealing his design, that the chastest eye might gazeon his heroine with impunity. The splendor of her upstretched arms heldhigh the beacon-light, which thew a glare upon the sublime anxiety ofher countenance, while all the tumult of the Hellespont, the waves, thescudding sky, the opposite shore revealed by a blood-red flash, weretouched by the hand of a master who had never failed. 

The applause was a genuine verdict, and the company after a time beganto disperse about the house and gardens. A small circle remained, and, passing the silken rope, approached and narrowly scrutinized thepicture. Among these were Theodora and Lothair, the chief patron ofBritish art, an R. A. Or two, Clorinda, and Lady Beatrice. 

Mr. Phoebus, who left the studio but had now returned, did not disturbthem. After a while he approached the group. His air was elate, and wasredeemed only from arrogance by the intellect of his brow. The circlestarted a little as they heard his voice, for they had been unaware ofhis presence. 

"To-morrow, " he said, "the critics will commence. You know who thecritics are? The men who have failed in literature and art. "

CHAPTER 36

The lodge-gate of Belmont was opening as Lothair one morning approachedit; a Hansom cab came forth, and in it was a person whose countenancewas strongly marked on the memory of Lothair. It was that of his unknownfriend at the Fenian meeting. Lothair instantly recognized and cordiallysaluted him, and his greeting, though hurriedly, was not ungraciouslyreturned; but the vehicle did not stop. Lothair called to the driver tohalt; but the driver, on the contrary, stimulated his steed, and in thewinding lane was soon out of sight. 

Theodora was not immediately visible. She was neither in her usualapartment nor in her garden; but it was only perhaps because Lothair wasso full of his own impressions from his recent encounter at the lodge, that he did not observe that the demeanor of Mrs. Campian, when sheappeared, was hardly marked by her habitual serenity. She entered theroom hurriedly and spoke with quickness. 

"Pray, " exclaimed Lothair, rather eagerly, "do tell me the name of thegentleman who has just called here. "

Theodora changed color, looked distressed, and was silent; unobserved, however, by Lothair, who, absorbed by his own highly-excited curiosity, proceeded to explain why he presumed to press for the information. "Iam under great obligations to that person; I am not sure I may not say Iowe him my life, but certainly an extrication from great dander and veryembarrassing danger too. I never saw him but once, and he would not giveme his name, and scarcely would accept my thanks. I wanted to stop hiscab to-day, but it was impossible. He literally galloped off. "

"He is a foreigner, " said Mrs Campian, who had recovered herself; "hewas a particular friend of my dear father; and when he visits England, which he does occasionally, he calls to see us. "

"Ah!" said Lothair, "I hope I shall soon have an opportunity ofexpressing to him my gratitude. "

"It was so like him not to give his name and to shrink fromthanks, " said Mrs. Campian. "He never enters society, and makes noacquaintances. "

"I am sorry for that, " said Lothair, "for it is not only that he servedme, but I was much taken with him, and felt that he was a person Ishould like to cultivate. "

"Yes, Captain Bruges is a remarkable man, " said Theodora; "he is not oneto be forgotten. "

"Captain Bruges. That, then, is his name?"

"He is known by the name of Captain Bruges, " said Theodora, and shehesitated; and then speaking more quickly she added: "I cannot sanction, I cannot bear, any deception between you and this roof. Bruges is nothis real name, nor is the title he assumes his real rank. He is notto be known, and not to be spoken of. He is one, and one of the mosteminent, of the great family of sufferers in this world, but sufferersfor a divine cause. I myself have been direly stricken in this struggle. When I remember the departed, it is not always easy to bear the thought. I keep it at the bottom of my heart; but this visit to-day has tooterribly revived every thing. It is well that you only are here towitness my suffering, but you will not have to witness it again, for wewill never again speak of these matters. "

Lothair was much touched: his good heart and his good taste alikedissuaded him from attempting commonplace consolation. He ventured totake her hand and pressed it to his lips. "Dear lady!" he murmured, andhe led her to a seat. "I fear my foolish tattle has added to pain whichI would gladly bear for you. "

They talked about nothings: about a new horse which Colonel Campian hadjust purchased, and which he wanted to show to Lothair; an old operarevived, but which sounded rather flat; something amusing that somebodyhad said, and something absurd which somebody had done. And then, whenthe ruffled feeling had been quite composed, and all had been broughtback to the tenor of their usual pleasant life, Lothair said suddenlyand rather gayly. "And now, dearest lady, I have a favor to ask. Youknow my majority is, to be achieved and to be celebrated next month. I hope that yourself and Colonel Campian will honor me by being myguests. "

Theodora did not at all look like a lady who had received a socialattention of the most distinguished class. She looked embarrassed, andbegan to murmur something about Colonel Campian, and their never goinginto society. 

"Colonel Campian is going to Scotland, and you are going with him, " saidLothair. "I know it, for he told me so, and said he could manage thevisit to me, if you approved it, quite well. In fact, it will fit inwith this Scotch visit. "

"There was some talk once about Scotland, " said Theodora, "but that wasa long time ago. Many things have happened since then. I do not thinkthe Scotch visit is by any means so settled as you think. "

"But, however that may be decided, " said Lothair, "there can be noreason why you should not come to me. "

"It is presumptuous in me, a foreigner, to speak of such matters, " saidTheodora; "but I fancy that, in such celebrations as you contemplate, there is, or there should be, some qualification of blood or familyconnection for becoming your guests. We should be there quite strangers, and in everybody's way, checking the local and domestic abandon which Ishould suppose is one of the charms of such meetings. "

"I have few relations and scarcely a connection, " said Lothair rathermoodily. "I can only ask friends to celebrate my majority, and there areno friends whom I so much regard as those who live at Belmont. "

"It is very kind of you to say that, and to feel it; and I know that youwould not say it if you did not feel it, " replied Theodora. "But still, I think it would be better that we should come to see you at a time whenyou are less engaged; perhaps you will take Colonel Campian down someday and give him some shooting. "

"All I can say is that, if you do not come, it will be the darkest, instead of the brightest, week in my life, " said Lothair. "In short, Ifeel I could not get through the business; I should be so mortified. Icannot restrain my feelings or arrange my countenance. Unless you come, the whole affair will be a complete failure, and worse than a failure. "

"Well, I will speak to Colonel Campian about it, " said Theodora, butwith little animation. 

"We will both speak to him about it now, " said Lothair, for the colonelat that moment entered the room and greeted Lothair, as was his custom, cordially. 

"We are settling the visit to Muriel, " said Lothair; "I want to induceMrs. Campian to come down a day or two before the rest, so that we mayhave the benefit of her counsel. "

CHAPTER 37

Muriel Tower crowned a wooded steep, part of a wild, and winding, andsylvan valley, at the bottom of which rushed a foaming stream. On theother side of the castle the scene, though extensive, was not lessstriking, and was essentially romantic. A vast park spread in alldirections beyond the limit of the eye, and with much variety ofcharacter--ornate near the mansion, and choicely timbered; in otherparts glens and spreading dolls, masses of black pines and savage woods;everywhere, sometimes glittering, and sometimes sullen, glimpses of thelargest natural late that inland England boasts, Muriel Mere, and in theextreme distance moors, and the first crest of mountains. The park, too, was full of life, for there were not only herds of red and fallowdeer, but, in its more secret haunts, wandered a race of wild-cattle, extremely savage, white and dove-colored, and said to be of the time ofthe Romans. 

It was not without emotion that Lothair beheld the chief seat of hisrace. It was not the first time he had visited it. He had a clear andpainful recollection of a brief, hurried, unkind glimpse caught of itin his very earliest boyhood. His uncle had taken him there by someinconvenient cross-railroad, to avail themselves of which they had risenin the dark on a March morning, and in an east wind. When they arrivedat their station they had hired an open fly drawn by a single horse, and, when they had thus at last reached the uninhabited Towers, theyentered by the offices, where Lothair was placed in the steward's room, by a smoky fire, given something to eat, and told that he might walkabout and amuse himself, provided he did not go out of sight of thecastle, while his uncle and the steward mounted their horses and rodeover the estate; leaving Lothair for hours without companions, andreturning just in time, in a shivering twilight, to clutch him up, as itwere, by the nape of the neck, twist him back again into the one-horsefly, and regain the railroad; his uncle praising himself the whole timefor the satisfactory and business-like manner in which he had plannedand completed the edition. 

What a contrast to present circumstances! Although Lothair had wished, and thought he had secured, that his arrival at Muriel should be quiteprivate, and even unknown, and that all ceremonies and celebrationsshould be postponed for a few days, during which he hoped to become alittle more familiar with his home, the secret could not be kept, andthe county would not tolerate this reserve. He was met at the station byfive hundred horsemen, all well mounted, and some of them gentlemenof high degree, who insisted upon accompanying him to his gates. Hiscarriage passed under triumphal arches, and choirs of enthusiasticchildren; waving parochial banners, hymned his auspicious approach. 

At the park gates his cavalcade quitted him with that delicacy offeeling which always distinguishes Englishmen, however rough theirhabit. As their attendance was self-invited, they would not intrude uponhis home. 

"Your lordship will have enough to do to-day, without being troubledwith us, " said their leader, as he shook hands with Lothair. 

But Lothair would not part with them thus. With the inspiringrecollection of his speech at the Fenian meeting, Lothair was not afraidof rising in his barouche and addressing them. What he said was saidvery well and it was addressed to a people who, though the shyest inthe world, have a passion for public speaking, than which no achievementmore tests reserve. It was something to be a great peer and a greatproprietor, and to be young and singularly well-favored; but to be ableto make a speech, and such a good one, such cordial words in so strongand musical a voice--all felt at once they were in the presence of thenatural leader of the county. The enthusiasm of the hunting-field burstforth. They gave him three ringing cheers, and jostled their horsesforward, that they might grasp his hand. 

The park gates were open, and the postillions dashed along throughscenes of loveliness on which Lothair would fain have lingered, but beconsoled himself with the recollection that he should probably have anopportunity of seeing them again. Sometimes his carriage seemed inthe heart of an ancient forest; sometimes the deer, startled at hisapproach, were scudding over expanding lawns; then his course wound bythe margin of a sinuous lake with green islands and golden gondolas;and then, after advancing through stately avenues, he arrived atmighty gates of wondrous workmanship, that once had been the boast of acelebrated convent on the Danube, but which, in the days of revolutions, had reached England, and had been obtained by the grandfather of Lothairto guard the choice demesne that was the vicinage of his castle. 

When we remember that Lothair, notwithstanding his rank and vastwealth, had never, from the nature of things, been the master of anestablishment, it must be admitted that the present occasion was alittle trying for his nerves. The whole household of the Towers werearrayed and arranged in groups on the steps of the chief entrance. Thesteward of the estate, who had been one of the cavalcade, had gallopedon before, and he was, of course, the leading spirit, and extendedhis arm to his lord as Lothair descended from his carriage. Thehouse-steward, the chief butler, the head-gardener, the chief of thekitchen, the head-keeper, the head-forester, and grooms of the stud andof the chambers, formed one group behind the housekeeper, a grave anddistinguished-looking female, who courtesied like the old court; halfa dozen powdered gentlemen, glowing, in crimson liveries, indicatedthe presence of my lord's footmen; while the rest of the household, considerable in numbers, were arranged in two groups, according to theirsex, and at a respectful distance. 

What struck Lothair--who was always thinking, and who had noinconsiderable fund of humor in his sweet and innocent nature--was thewonderful circumstance that, after so long an interval of neglectand abeyance, he should find himself the master of so complete andconsummate a household. 

"Castles and parks, " he thought, "I had a right to count on, and, perhaps, even pictures, but how I came to possess such a work of artas my groom of the chambers, who seems as respectfully haughty, and ascalmly grateful, as if he were at Brentham itself, and whose coat musthave been made in Saville Row, quite bewilders me. "

But Lothair, though he appreciated Putney Giles, had not yet formed afull conception of the resource and all-accomplished providence of thatwondrous man, acting under the inspiration of the consummate Apollonia. 

Passing through the entrance-hall, a lofty chamber, though otherwise ofmoderate dimensions, Lothair was ushered into his armory, a gallery twohundred feet long, with suits of complete mail ranged on each side, and the walls otherwise covered with rare and curious weapons. It wasimpossible, even for the master of this collection, to suppress thedelight and the surprise with which he beheld the scene. We mustremember, in his excuse, that he beheld it for the first time. 

The armory led to a large and lofty octagonal chamber, highly decorated, in the centre of which was the tomb of Lothair's grandfather. He hadraised it in his lifetime. The tomb was of alabaster surrounded bya railing of pure gold, and crowned with a recumbent figure of thedeceased in his coronet--a fanciful man, who lived in solitude, buildingcastles and making gardens. 

What charmed Lothair most as he proceeded were the number of courts andquadrangles in the castle, all of bright and fantastic architecture, andeach of which was a garden, glowing with brilliant colors, and gay withthe voice of fountains or the forms of gorgeous birds. Our young frienddid not soon weary in his progress; even the suggestions of the steward, that his lordship's luncheon was at command, did not restrain him. Ballrooms, and baronial halls, and long libraries with curiously-stainedwindows, and suites of dazzling saloons, where he beheld the originalportraits of his parents, of which he had miniatures--he saw themall, and was pleased, and interested. But what most struck and evenastonished him was the habitable air which pervaded the whole of thisenormous structure; too rare even when families habitually reside insuch dwellings; but almost inconceivable, when it was to be rememberedthat more than a generation had passed without a human being living inthese splendid chambers, scarcely a human word being spoken in them. There was not a refinement of modern furniture that was wanting; eventhe tables were covered with the choicest publications of the day. 

"Mr. Putney Giles proposes to arrive here to-morrow, " said the steward. "He thought your lordship would like to be a day or two alone. "

"He is the most sensible man I know, " said Lothair; "he always does theright thing. I think I will have my luncheon now, Mr. Harvey, and I willgo ever the cellars to-morrow. "

CHAPTER 38

Yes; Lothair wished to be alone. He had naturally a love of solitude, but the events of the last few hours lent an additional inducementto meditation. He was impressed, in a manner and degree not beforeexperienced, with the greatness of his inheritance. His worldlyposition, until to-day, had been an abstraction. After all, he had onlybeen one of a crowd, which he resembled. But the sight of this proud andabounding territory, and the unexpected encounter with his neighbors, brought to him a sense of power and of responsibility. He shrank fromneither. The world seemed opening to him with all its delights, andwith him duty was one. He was also sensible of the beautiful, and thesurrounding forms of nature and art charmed him. Let us not forget thatextreme youth and perfect health were ingredients not wanting in thespell any more than power or wealth. Was it, then, complete? Not withoutthe influence of woman. 

To that gentle yet mystical sway the spirit of Lothair had yielded. Whatwas the precise character of his feelings to Theodora--what werehis hopes, or views--he had hitherto had neither the time nor theinclination to make certain. The present was so delightful, and theenjoyment of her society had been so constant and complete, that hehad ever driven the future from his consideration. Had the conduct ofTheodora been different, had she deigned to practise on his affections, appealed to his sensibility, stimulated or piqued his vanity, it mighthave been otherwise. In the distraction of his heart, or the disturbanceof his temper, he might have arrived at conclusions, and even expressedthem, incompatible with the exquisite and even sublime friendship, whichhad so strangely and beautifully arisen, like a palace in a dream, andabsorbed his being. Although their acquaintance could hardly be numberedby months, there was no living person of whom he had seen so much, or towhom he had opened his heart and mind with such profuse ingenuousness. Nor on her part, though apparently shrinking from egotism, had thereever been any intellectual reserve. On the contrary, although neverauthoritative, and, even when touching on her convictions, suggestingrather than dictating them, Lothair could not but feel that, duringthe happy period he had passed in her society, not only his taste hadrefined but his mind had considerably opened; his views had becomelarger, his sympathies had expanded; he considered with charity thingsand even persons from whom a year ago he would have recoiled with alarmor aversion. 

The time during which Theodora had been his companion was the happiestperiod of his life. It was more than that; he could conceive no felicitygreater, and all that he desired was that it should endure. Since theyfirst met, scarcely four-and-twenty hours had passed without his beingin her presence; and now, notwithstanding the novelty and the variety ofthe objects around him and the vast, and urgent, and personal interestwhich they involve he felt a want which meeting her, or the dailyprospect of meeting her, could alone supply. Her voice lingered in hisear; he gazed upon a countenance invisible to others; and he scarcelysaw or did any thing without almost unconsciously associating with ither opinion or approbation. 

Well, then, the spell was complete. The fitfulness or melancholy whichso often is the doom of youth, however otherwise favored, who do notlove, was not the condition, capricious or desponding, of Lothair. Inhim combined all the accidents and feelings which enchant existence. 

He had been rambling in the solitudes of his park, and had thrownhimself on the green shadow of a stately tree, his cheek resting on hisarm, and lost in reverie amid the deep and sultry silence. Wealthy andyoung, noble and full of noble thoughts, with the inspiration of health, surrounded by the beautiful, and his heart softened by feelings asexquisite, Lothair, nevertheless, could not refrain from pondering overthe mystery of that life which seemed destined to bring to him onlydelight. 

"Life would be perfect, " he at length exclaimed, "if it would onlylast. " But it will not last; and what then? He could not reconcileinterest in this life with the conviction of another, and an eternalone. It seemed to him that, with such a conviction, man could have onlyone thought and one occupation--the future, and preparation for it. Withsuch a conviction, what they called reality appeared to him more vainand nebulous than the scones and sights of sleep. And he had thatconviction; at least he had it once. Had he it now? Yes; he had it now, but modified, perhaps, in detail. He was not so confident as he was afew months ago, that he could be ushered by a Jesuit from his deathbedto the society of St. Michael and all the angels. There might be longprocesses of initiation--intermediate states of higher probation andrefinement. There might be a horrible and apathetic pause. When millionsof ages appeared to be necessary to mature the crust of a ratherinsignificant planet, it might be presumption in man to assume that hissoul, though immortal, was to reach its final destination regardless ofall the influences of space and time. 

And the philosophers and distinguished men of science with whom of latehe had frequently enjoyed the opportunity of becoming acquainted, whatwere their views? They differed among themselves: did any of them agreewith him? How they accounted for every thing except the only pointon which man requires revelation! Chance, necessity, atomic theories, nebular hypotheses, development, evolution, the origin of worlds, humanancestry--here were high topics, on none of which was there lack ofargument; and, in a certain sense, of evidence; and what then? Theremust be design. The reasoning and the research of all philosophy couldnot be valid against that conviction. If there were no design, why, it would all be nonsense; and he could not believe in nonsense. And ifthere were design, there must be intelligence; and if intelligence, pure intelligence; and pure intelligence was inconsistent withany disposition but perfect good. But between the all-wise and theall-benevolent and man, according to the new philosophers, no relationswere to be any longer acknowledged. They renounce in despair thepossibility of bringing man into connection with that First Cause whichthey can neither explain nor deny. But man requires that there shall bedirect relations between the created and the Creator; and that in thoserelations he should find a solution of the perplexities of existence. The brain that teems with illimitable thought, will never recognizeas his creator any power of Nature, however irresistible, that is notgifted with consciousness. Atheism may be consistent with fine taste, and fine taste under certain conditions may for a time regulate apolished society; but ethics with atheism are impossible; and withoutethics no human order can be strong or permanent. 

The Church comes forward, and, without equivocation, offers to establishdirect relations between God and man. Philosophy denies its title, anddisputes its power. Why? Because they are founded on the supernatural. What is the supernatural? Can there be any thing more miraculousthan the existence of man and the world?--any thing more literallysupernatural than the origin of things? The Church explains what no oneelse pretends to explain, and which, every one agrees, it is of firstmoment should be made clear. 

The clouds of a summer eve were glowing in the creative and flickeringblaze of the vanished sun, that had passed like a monarch from theadmiring sight, yet left his pomp behind. The golden and amber vaporsfell into forms that to the eye of the musing Lothair depicted theobjects of his frequent meditation. There seemed to rise in the horizonthe dome and campaniles and lofty aisles of some celestial fane, such ashe had often more than dreamed of raising to the revealed author of lifeand death. Altars arose and sacred shrines, and delicate chantries andfretted spires; now the flashing phantom of heavenly choirs, and thenthe dim response of cowled and earthly cenobites:

"These are black Vesper's pageants!"

CHAPTER 39

Lothair was quite glad to see Mr. Putney Giles. That gentleman indeedwas a universal favorite. He was intelligent, acquainted with everything except theology and metaphysics, to oblige, a little to patronize, never made difficulties, and always overcame them. His bright blue eyes, open forehead, and sunny face, indicated a man fall of resources, andwith a temper of natural sweetness. 

The lawyer and his noble client had a great deal of business totransact. Lothair was to know his position in detail preparatory toreleasing his guardians from their responsibilities, and assuming themanagement of his own affairs. Mr. Putney Giles was a first-rate manof business. With all his pleasant, easy manner, he was precise andmethodical, and was not content that his client should be less masterof his own affairs than his lawyer. The mornings passed over a tablecovered with dispatch boxes and piles of ticketed and banded papers, andthen they looked after the workmen who were preparing for the impendingfestivals, or rode over the estate. 

"That is our weak point, " said Mr. Putney Giles, pointing to a distantpart of the valley. "We ought to have both sides of the valley. Yourlordship will have to consider whether you can devote the two hundredthousand pounds of the second and extinct trust to a better purpose thanin obtaining that estate. "

Lothair had always destined that particular sum for the cathedral, theraising of which was to have been the first achievement of his majority;but he did not reply. 

In a few days the guests began to arrive, but gradually. The duke andduchess and Lady Corisande came the first, and were one day alone withLothair, for Mr. Putney Giles had departed to fetch Apollonia. 

Lothair was unaffectedly gratified at not only receiving his friends athis own castle, but under these circumstances of intimacy. They hadbeen the first persons who had been kind to him, and he really loved thewhole family. They arrived rather late, but he would show them to theirrooms--and they were choice ones--himself, and then they dined togetherin the small green dining-room. Nothing could be more graceful ormore cordial than the whole affair. The duchess seemed to beam withaffectionate pleasure as Lothair fulfilled his duties as their host;the duke praised the claret, and he seldom praised any thing; while LadyCorisande only regretted that the impending twilight had prevented herfrom seeing the beautiful country, and expressed lively interest in themorrow's inspection of the castle and domain. Sometimes her eyes metthose of Lothair, and she was so happy that she unconsciously smiled. 

"And-to-morrow, " said Lothair, "I am delighted to say, we shall have toourselves; at least all the morning. We will see the castle first, andthen, after luncheon, we will drive about everywhere. "

"Everywhere, " said Corisande. 

"It was very nice your asking us first, and alone, " said the duchess. 

"It was very nice in your coming, dear duchess, " said Lothair, "and mostkind--as you ever are to me. "

"Duke of Brecon is coming to you on Thursday, " said the duke; "he toldme so at White's. "

"Perhaps you would like to know, duchess, whom you are going to meet, "said Lothair. 

"I should much like to hear. Pray tell us. "

"It is a rather formidable array, " said Lothair, and he took out apaper. "First, there are all the notables of the county. I do not knowany of them personally, so I wrote to each of them a letter, as well assending them a formal invitation. I thought that was right. "

"Quite right, " said the duchess. "Nothing could be more proper. "

"Well, the first person, of course, is the lord-lieutenant. He iscoming. "

"By-the-by, let me see, who is your lord-lieutenant?" said the duke. 

"Lord Agramont. "

"To be sure. I was at college with him; a very good fellow; but I havenever met him since, except once at Boodle's; and I never saw a man sored and gray, and I remember him such a good-looking fellow! He musthave lived immensely in the country, and never thought of his person, "said the duke in a tone of pity, and playing with his mustache. 

"Is there a Lady Agramont?" inquired the duchess. 

"Oh, yes! and she also honors me with her presence, " said Lothair. 

"And who was Lady Agramont?"

"Oh! his cousin, " said the duke. "The Agramonts always marry theircousins. His father did the same thing. They are so shy. It is a familythat never was in society, and never will be. I was at Agramont Castleonce when I was at college, and I never shall forget it. We used tosit down forty or fifty every day to dinner, entirely maiden aunts andclergymen, and that sort of thing. However, I shall be truly glad to seeAgramont again, for, notwithstanding all these disadvantages, he is athoroughly good fellow. "

"Then there is the high-sheriff, " continued Lothair; "and both thecounty members and their wives; and Mrs. High-Sheriff too. I believethere is some tremendous question respecting the precedency of thislady. There is no doubt that, in the county, the high-sheriff takesprecedence of every one, even of the lord-lieutenant; but how about hiswife? Perhaps your grace could aid me? Mr. Putney Giles said he wouldwrite about it to the Heralds' College. "

"I should give her the benefit of any doubt, " said the duchess. 

"And then our bishop is coming;" said Lothair. 

"Oh! I am so glad you have asked the bishop, " said Lady Corisande. 

"There could be no doubt about it, " said Lothair. 

"I do not know how his lordship will get on with one of my guardians, the cardinal; but his eminence is not here in a priestly character; and, as for that, there is less chance of his differing with the cardinalthan with my other guardian Lord Culloden, who is a member of the FreeKirk. "

"Is Lord Culloden coming?" said the duchess. 

"Yes, and with two daughters, Flora and Grizell. I remember my cousins, good-natured little girls; but Mr. Putney Giles tells me that theshortest is six feet high. "

"I think we shall have a very amusing party, " said the duchess. 

"You know all the others, " said Lothair. "No, by-the-by, there is thedean of my college coming, and Monsignore Catesby, a great friend of theSt. Jeromes. "

Lady Corisande looked grave. 

"The St. Jeromes will be here to-morrow, " continued Lothair, "and theMontairys and the St. Aldegondes. I have half an idea that Bertram andCarisbrooke and Hugo Bohun will be here to-night--Duke of Breconon Thursday; and that, I think, is all, except an American lady andgentleman, whom, I think, you will like--great friends of mine; I knewthem this year at Oxford, and the were very kind to me. He is a man ofconsiderable fortune; they have lived at Paris a good deal. "

"I have known Americans who lived at Paris, " said the duke; "very goodsort of people, and no end of money some of them. "

"I believe Colonel Campian has large estates in the South, " saidLothair; "but, though really I have no right to speak of his affairs, hemust have suffered very much. "

"Well, he has the consolation of suffering in a good cause, " saidthe duke. "I shall be happy to make his acquaintance. I look upon anAmerican gentleman with large estates in the South as a real aristocrat;and; whether he gets his rents, or whatever his returns may be, or not, I should always treat him with respect. "

"I have heard the American women are very pretty, " said Lady Corisande. 

"Mrs. Campian is very distinguished, " said Lothair; "but I think she wasan Italian. "

"They promise to be an interesting addition to our party, " said theduchess, and she rose. 

CHAPTER 40

There never was any thing so successful as the arrangements of thenext day. After breakfast they inspected the castle, and in the easiestmanner, without form and without hurry, resting occasionally in agallery or a saloon, never examining a cabinet, and only looking at apicture now and then. Generally speaking, nothing is more fatiguing thanthe survey of a great house; but this enterprise was conducted withso much tact and consideration, and much which they had to see was sobeautiful and novel, that every one was interested, and remained quitefresh for their subsequent exertions. "And then the duke is so muchamused, " said the duchess to her daughter, delighted at the unusualexcitement of the handsome, but somewhat too serene, partner of herlife. 

After luncheon they visited the gardens, which had been formed in asylvan valley, enclosed with gilded gates. The creator of this, paradisehad been favored by Nature, and had availed himself of this opportunity. The contrast between the parterres, blazing with color, and the sylvanbackground, the undulating paths over romantic heights, the fanes andthe fountains, the glittering statues, and the Babylonian terraces, formed a whole, much of which was beautiful, and all of which wasstriking and singular. 

"Perhaps too many temples, " said Lothair; "but this ancestor of mine hadsome imagination. "

A carriage met them on the other side of the valley, and then they soonentered the park. 

"I am almost as much a stranger here as yourself, dear duchess, " saidLothair; "but I have seen some parts which, I think, will please you. "And they commenced a drive of varying, but unceasing, beauty. 

"I hope I see the wild-cattle, " said Lady Corisande. 

Lady Corisande saw the wild-cattle, and many other things, whichgratified and charmed her. It was a long drive, even of hours, and yetno one was, for a moment, wearied. 

"What a delightful day!" Lady Corisande exclaimed in her mother'sdressing-room. "I have never seen any place so beautiful. "

"I agree with you, " said the duchess; "but what pleases me most are hismanners. They were always kind and natural; but they are so polished--soexactly what they ought to be; and he always says the right thing. Inever knew any one who had so matured. "

"Yes; it is very little more than a year since he came to us atBrentham, " said Lady Corisande, thoughtfully. "Certainly he has greatlychanged. I remember he could hardly open his lips; and now I think himvery agreeable. "

"He is more than that, " said the duchess; "he is interesting. "

"Yes, " said Lady Corisande; "he is interesting. "

"What delights me, " said the duchess, "is to see his enjoyment of hisposition. He seems to take such an interest in every thing. It makes mehappy to see him so happy. "

"Well, I hardly know, " said Lady Corisande, "about that. There issomething occasionally about his expression which I should hardlydescribe as indicative of happiness or content. It would be ungratefulto describe one as distrait, who seems to watch all one wants, and hangson every word; and yet--especially as we returned, and when we were allof us a little silent--there was a remarkable abstraction about him; Icaught it once or twice before, earlier in the day; his mind seemed inanother place, and anxiously. "

"He has a great deal to think of, " said the duchess. 

"I fear it is that dreadful Monsignore Catesby, " said Lady Corisande, with a sigh. 

CHAPTER 41

The arrival of the guests was arranged with judgment. The personalfriends came first; the formal visitors were invited only for the daybefore the public ceremonies commenced. No more dinners in small greendining-rooms. While the duchess was dressing, Bertha St. Aldegonde andVictoria Montairy, who had just arrived, came in to give her a rapidembrace while their own toilets were unpacking. 

"Granville, has come, mamma; I did not think that he would till the lastmoment. He said he was so afraid of being bored. There is a large partyby this train; the St. Jeromes, Bertram, Mr. Bohun, Lord Carisbrooke, and some others we do not know. "

The cardinal had been expected to-day, but he had telegraphed that hisarrival must be postponed in consequence: of business until the morrow, which day had been previously fixed for the arrival of his fellowguardian and trustee, the Earl of Culloden, and his daughters, theLadies Flora and Grizell Falkirk. Monsignore Catesby had, however, arrived by this train, and the persons "whom they did not know, " theCampians. 

Lothair waited on Colonel Campian immediately and welcomed him, but hedid not see Theodora. Still he had inquired after her, and left hera message, and hoped that she would take some tea; and thus, as heflattered himself, broken a little the strangeness of their meetingunder his roof; but, notwithstanding all this, when she really enteredthe drawing-room he was seized with such a palpitation of the heart thatfor a moment he thought he should be unequal to the situation. But theserenity of Theodora reassured him. The Campians came in late, and alleyes were upon them. Lothair presented Theodora to the duchess, who, being prepared for the occasion, said exactly the right thing in thebest manner, and invited Mrs. Campian to sit by her, and then, Theodorabeing launched, Lothair whispered something to the duke, who nodded, and the colonel was introduced to his grace. The duke, always polite butgenerally cold, was more than courteous--he was cordial; he seemedto enjoy the opportunity of expressing his high consideration for agentleman of the Southern States. 

So the first step was over; Lothair recovered himself; the palpitationsubsided; and the world still went on. The Campians had made a goodstart, and the favorable impression hourly increased. At dinnerTheodora sat between Lord St. Jerome and Bertram, and talked more to themiddle-aged peer than to the distinguished youth, who would willinglyhave engrossed her attention. All mothers admire such discretion, especially in a young and beautiful married woman, so the verdict of theevening among the great ladies was, that Theodora was distinguished, andthat all she said or did was in good taste. On the plea of her beinga foreigner, she was at once admitted into a certain degree of socialintimacy. Had she had the misfortune of being native-born and hadflirted with Bertram, she would probably, particularly with so muchbeauty, have been looked upon as "a horrid woman, " and have beenrelegated for amusement, during her visit, to the attentions of the darksex. But, strange to say, the social success of Colonel Campian was notless eminent than that of his distinguished wife. The character whichthe duke gave of him commanded universal sympathy. "You know he is agentleman, " said the duke; "he is not a Yankee. People make the greatestmistakes about these things. He is a gentleman of the South; they haveno property, but land; and I am told his territory was immense. Healways lived at Paris, and in the highest style--disgusted, of course, with his own country. It is not unlikely he may have lost his estatesnow; but that makes no difference to me. I shall treat him, and allSouthern gentlemen, as our fathers treated the emigrant nobility ofFrance. "

"Hugo, " said St. Aldegonde to Mr. Bohun, "I wish you would tell Berthato come to me. I want her. She is talking to a lot of women at the otherend of the room, and, if I go to her, I am afraid they will get hold ofme. "

The future duchess, who lived only to humor her lord, was at his side inan instant. "You wanted me, Granville?"

"Yes; you know I was afraid, Bertha, I should be bored here. I am notbored. I like this American fellow. He understands the only two subjectswhich interest me; horses and tobacco. "

"I am charmed, Granville, that you are not bored; I told mamma that youwere very much afraid you would be. "

"Yes; but I tell you what, Bertha, I cannot stand any of the ceremonies. I shall go before they begin. Why cannot Lothair be content withreceiving his friends in a quiet way? It is all humbug about the county. If he wants to do something for the county, he can build a wing to theinfirmary, or something of that sort, and not bore us with speeches andfireworks. It is a sort of thing I cannot stand. "

"And you shall not, dear Granville. The moment you are bored, you shallgo. Only you are not bored at present. "

"Not at present; but I expected to be. "

"Yes; so I told mamma; but that makes the present more delightful. "

The St. Jeromes were going to Italy and immediately. Their departure hadonly been postponed in order that they might be present at the majorityof Lothair. Miss Arundel had at length succeeded in her great object. They were to pass the winter at Rome. Lord St. Jerome was quite pleasedat having made the acquaintance at dinner of a Roman lady, who spokeEnglish so perfectly; and Lady St. Jerome, who in consequence fastenedupon Theodora, was getting into ecstasies, which would have beenembarrassing had not her new acquaintance skilfully checked her. 

"We must be satisfied that we both admire Rome, " said Mrs. Campian, "though we admire it for different reasons. Although a Roman, I am not aRoman Catholic; and Colonel Campian's views on Italian affairs generallywould, I fear, not entirely agree with Lord St. Jerome's. "

"Naturally, " said Lady St. Jerome, gracefully dropping the subject, andremembering that Colonel Campian was a citizen of the United States, which accounted in her apprehension for his peculiar opinions. 

Lothair, who had been watching his opportunity the whole evening, approached Theodora. He meant to have expressed his hope that she wasnot wearied by her journey, but instead of that he said, "Your presencehere makes me inexpressibly happy. "

"I think everybody seems happy to be your guest, " she replied, parrying, as was her custom, with a slight kind smile, and a low, sweet, unembarrassed voice, any personal allusion from Lothair of unusualenergy or ardor. 

"I wanted to meet you at the station to-day, " he continued, "but therewere so many people coming, that--" and he hesitated. 

"It would really have been more embarrassing to us than to yourself, "she said. "Nothing could be better than all the arrangements. "

"I sent my own brougham to you, " said Lothair. "I hope there was nomistake about it. "

"None: your servant gave us your kind message; and as for the carriage, it was too delightful. Colonel Campian was so; pleased with it, that hehas promised to give me one, with your permission, exactly the same. "

"I wish you would accept the one you used to-day. "

"You are too magnificent; you really must try to forget, with us, that you are the lord of Muriel Towers. But I will willingly use yourcarriages as much as you please, for I caught glimpses of beauty to-dayin our progress from the station that made me anxious to explore yourdelightful domain. "

There was a slight burst of merriment from a distant part of the room, and everybody looked around. Colonel Campian had been telling a story toa group formed of the duke, St. Aldegonde, and Mr. Bohun. 

"Best story I ever heard In my life, " exclaimed St. Aldegonde, whoprided himself, when he did laugh, which was rare, on laughing loud. Buteven the duke tittered, and Hugo Bohun smiled. 

"I am glad to see the colonel get on so well with every one, " saidLothair; "I was afraid he might have been bored. "

"He does not know what that means, " said Theodora; "and he is so naturaland so sweet-tempered, and so intelligent, that it seems to me he alwaysis popular. "

"Do you think that will be a match?" said Monsignore Catesby to MissArundel. 

"Well, I rather believe in the Duke of Brecon, " she replied. They werereferring to Lord Carisbrooke, who appeared to be devoted to LadyCorisande. "Do you admire the American lady?"

"Who is an Italian, they tell me, though she does not look like one. What do you think of her?" said the monsignore, evading, as was hiscustom, a direct reply. 

"Well, I think she is very distinguished: unusual. I wonder where ourhost became acquainted with them? Do you know?"

"Not yet: but I dare say Mr. Bohun can tell us;" and he addressed thatgentleman accordingly as he was passing by. 

"Not the most remote idea, " said Mr. Bohun. "You know the colonel is nota Yankee; he is a tremendous swell. The duke says, with more land thanhe has. "

"He seems an agreeable person, " said Miss Arundel. 

"Well, he tell anecdotes; he has just been telling one; Granville likesanecdotes; they amuse him, and he likes to be amused: that is all hecares about. I hate anecdotes, and I always get away when conversationfalls into, what Pinto calls, its anecdotage. "

"You do not like to be amused?"

"Not too much; I like to be interested. "

"Well, " said Miss Arundel, "so long as a person can talk agreeably, I amsatisfied. I think to talk well a rare gift; quite as rare as singing;and yet you expect every one to be able to talk, and very few to be ableto sing. "

"There are amusing people who do not interest, " said the monsignore, "and interesting people who do not amuse. What I like is an agreeableperson. "

"My idea of an agreeable person, " said Hugo Bohun, "is a person whoagrees with me. "

"Talking of singing, something is going to happen, " said Miss Arundel. 

A note was heard; a celebrated professor had entered the room and wasseated at the piano, which he had just touched. There was a generaland unconscious hush, and the countenance of Lord St. Aldegonde worea rueful expression. But affairs turned out better than could beanticipated. A young and pretty girl, dressed in white, with a giganticsash of dazzling beauty, played upon the violin with a grace, andsentimental and marvellous skill, and passionate expression, worthy ofSt. Cecilia. She was a Hungarian lady, and this was her English debut. Everybody praised her, and every body was pleased; and Lord St. Aldegonde, instead of being bored, took a wondrous rose out of hisbutton-hole and presented it to her. 

The performance only lasted half an hour, and then the ladies began tothink of their bowers. Lady St. Aldegonde, before she quit the room, wasin earnest conversation with her lord. 

"I have arranged all that you wished, Granville, " she said, speakingrapidly and holding a candlestick. "We are to see the castle to-morrow, and the gardens and the parks and every thing else, but you are not tobe bored at all, and not to lose your shooting. The moors are sixteenmiles off, but our host says, with an omnibus and a good team--andhe will give you a first-rate one--you can do it in an hour and tenminutes, certainly an hour and a quarter; and you are to make your ownparty in the smoking-room to-night, and take a capital luncheon withyou. "

"All right: I shall ask the Yankee; and I should like to take thatHungarian girl too, if she would only fiddle to us at luncheon. "

CHAPTER 42

Next day the cardinal, with his secretary and his chaplain, arrived. Monsignore Catesby received his eminence at the station and knelt andkissed his hand as he stepped from the carriage. The monsignore hadwonderfully manoeuvred that the whole of the household should havebeen marshalled to receive this prince of the Church, and perhaps haveperformed the same ceremony: no religious recognition, he assured them, in the least degree involved, only an act of not unusual respect to aforeign prince; but considering that the bishop of the diocese andhis suite were that day expected, to say nothing of the Presbyterianguardian, probably arriving by the same train, Lothair would not bepersuaded to sanction any ceremony whatever. Lady St. Jerome and MissArundel, however, did their best to compensate for this omission withreverences which a posture-master might have envied, and certainly wouldnot have surpassed. They seemed to sink into the earth, and then slowlyand supernaturally to emerge. The bishop had been at college with thecardinal and intimate with him, though they now met for the first timesince his secession--a not uninteresting rencounter. The bishop washigh-church, and would not himself have made a bad cardinal, beingpolished and plausible, well-lettered, yet quite a man of the world. He was fond of society, and justified his taste in this respect by theflattering belief that by his presence he was extending the power of theChurch; certainly favoring an ambition which could not be described asbeing moderate. The bishop had no abstract prejudice against gentlemenwho wore red hats, and under ordinary circumstances would have welcomedhis brother churchman with unaffected cordiality, not to say sympathy;but in the present instance, however gracious his mien and honeyed hisexpressions, he only looked upon the cardinal as a dangerous rival, intent upon clutching from his fold the most precious of his flock, andhe had long looked to this occasion as the one which might decidethe spiritual welfare and career of Lothair. The odds were not to bedespised. There were two monsignores in the room besides the cardinal, but the bishop was a man of contrivance and resolution, not easilydisheartened or defeated. Nor was he without allies. He did not countmuch on the university don, who was to arrive on the morrow in the shapeof the head of an Oxford house, though he was a don of magnitude. Thiseminent personage had already let Lothair slip from his influence. Butthe bishop had a subtle counsellor in his chaplain, who wore as gooda cassock as any monsignore, and he brought with him also a trustyarchdeacon in a purple coat, whose countenance was quite entitled to aplace in the Acta Sanctorum. 

It was amusing to observe the elaborate courtesy and more than Christiankindness which the rival prelates and their official followers extendedto each other. But under all this unction on both sides were unceasingobservation, and a vigilance that never flagged; and on both sides therewas an uneasy but irresistible conviction that they were on the eve ofone of the decisive battles of the social world. Lord Culloden also atlength appeared with his daughters, Ladies Flora and Grizell. They werequite as tall as Mr. Putney Giles had reported, but very pretty, withradiant complexions, sunny blue eyes, and flaxen looks. Their dimplesand white shoulders and small feet and hands were much admired. Mr. Giles also returned with Apollonia, and, at length, also appeared therival of Lord Carisbrooke, his grace of Brecon. 

Lothair had passed a happy morning, for he had contrived, withoutdifficulty, to be the companion of Theodora during the greater part ofit. As the duchess and Lady Corisande had already inspected the castle, they disappeared after breakfast to write letters; and, when theafter-luncheon expedition took place, Lothair allotted them to the careof Lord Carisbrooke, and himself became the companion of Lady St. Jeromeand Theodora. 

Notwithstanding all his efforts in the smoking-room, St. Aldegonde hadonly been able to induce Colonel Campian to be his companion in theshooting expedition, and the colonel fell into the lure only throughhis carelessness and good-nature. He much doubted the discretion ofhis decision as he listened to Lord St. Aldegonde's reasons for theexpedition, in their rapid journey to the moors. 

"I do not suppose, " he said, "we shall have any good sport; but whenyou are in Scotland, and come to me, as I hope you will, I will give yousomething you will like. But it is a great thing to get off seeing theTowers, and the gardens, and all that sort of thing. Nothing bores me somuch as going over a man's house. Besides, we get rid of the women. "

The meeting between the two guardians did not promise to be as pleasantas that between the bishop and the cardinal, but the crusty LordCulloden was scarcely a match for the social dexterity of his eminence. The cardinal, crossing the room, with winning ceremony approached andaddressed his colleague. 

"We can have no more controversies, my lord, for our reign is over;"and he extended a delicate hand, which the surprised peer touched with ahuge finger. 

"Yes; it all depends on himself now, " replied Lord Culloden, with a grimsmile; "and I hope he will not make a fool of himself. "

"What have you got for us to-night?" inquired Lothair of Mr. Giles, asthe gentlemen rose from the dining-table. 

Mr. Giles said he would consult his wife, but Lothair observing he wouldhimself undertake that office, when he entered the saloon, addressedApollonia. Nothing could be more skilful than the manner in which Mrs. Giles, in this party, assumed precisely the position which equallybecame her and suited her own views; at the same time the somewhathumble friend, but the trusted counsellor, of the Towers, she disarmedenvy and conciliated consideration. Never obtrusive, yet always promptand prepared with unfailing resource, and gifted apparently, withuniversal talents, she soon became the recognized medium by which everything was suggested or arranged; and before eight-and-forty hours hadpassed she was described by duchesses and their daughters as that "dearMrs. Giles. "

"Monsieur Raphael and his sister came down in the train with us, " saidMrs. Giles to Lothair; "the rest of the troupe will not be here untilto-morrow; but they told me they could give you a perfect proverbe ifyour lordship would like it; and the Spanish conjuror is here; but Irather think, from what I gather, that the young ladies would like adance. "

"I do not much fancy acting the moment these great churchmen havearrived, and with cardinals and bishops I would rather not have dancesthe first-night. I almost wish we had kept the Hungarian lady for thisevening. "

"Shall I send for her? She is ready. "

"The repetition would be too soon, and would show a great poverty ofresources, " said Lothair, smiling; "what we want is some singing. "

"Mardoni ought to have been here to-day, " said Mrs. Giles; "but he neverkeeps his engagements. "

"I think our amateur materials are rather rich, " said Lothair. 

"There is Mrs. Campian, " said Apollonia in a low voice; but Lothairshook his head. 

"But, perhaps, if others set her the example, " he added, after a pause;"Lady Corisande is first rate, and all her sisters sing; I will go andconsult the duchess. "

There was soon a stir in the room. Lady St. Aldegonde and her sistersapproached the piano, at which was seated the eminent professor. A notewas heard, and there was silence. The execution was exquisite; and, indeed, there are few things more dainty than the blended voices ofthree women. No one seemed to appreciate the performance more thanMrs. Campian, who, greatly attracted by what was taking place, turned acareless ear, even to the honeyed sentences of no less a personage thanthe lord-bishop. 

After an interval Lady Corisande was handed to the piano by Lothair. She was in fine voice, and sang with wonderful effect. Mrs. Campian, whoseemed much interested, softly rose, and stole to the outward circle ofthe group which had gathered round the instrument. When the sounds hadceased, amid the general applause her voice of admiration was heard. The duchess approached her, evidently prompted by the general wish, andexpressed her hope that Mrs. Campian would now favor them. It was notbecoming to refuse when others had contributed so freely to thegeneral entertainment, but Theodora was anxious not to place herself incompetition with those who had preceded her. Looking over a volumeof music, she suggested to Lady Corisande a duet, in which thepeculiarities of their two voices, which in character were quitedifferent, one being a soprano and the other a contralto, might bedisplayed. And very seldom, in a private chamber, had any thing of sohigh a class been heard. Not a lip moved except those of the singers, so complete was the fascination, till the conclusion elicited a burst ofirresistible applause. 

"In imagination I am throwing endless bouquets, " said Hugo Bohun. 

"I wish we could induce her to give us a recitation from Alfieri, " saidMrs. Putney Giles in a whisper to Lady St. Aldegonde. "I heard it once:it was the finest thing I ever listened to. "

"But cannot we?" said Lady St. Aldegonde. 

Apollonia shook her head. "She is extremely reserved. I am quitesurprised that she sang; but she could not well refuse after yourladyship and your sisters had been so kind. "

"But if the Lord of the Towers asks her, " suggested Lady St. Aldegonde. 

"No, no, " said Mrs. Giles, "that would not do; nor would he. He knowsshe dislikes it. A word from Colonel Campian, and the thing would besettled; but it is rather absurd to invoke the authority of a husbandfor so light a matter. "

"I should like so much to hear her, " said Lady St. Aldegonde. "I think Iwill ask her myself. I will go and speak to mamma. "

There was much whispering and consulting in the room, but unnoticed, asgeneral conversation had now been resumed. The duchess sent for Lothair, and conferred with him; but Lothair seemed to shake his head. Thenher grace rose and approached Colonel Campian, who was talking to LordCulloden, and then the duchess and Lady St. Aldegonde went to Mrs. Campian. Then, after a short time, Lady St. Aldegonde rose and fetchedLothair. 

"Her grace tells me, " said Theodora, "that Colonel Campian wishes me togive a recitation. I cannot believe that such a performance can ever begenerally interesting, especially in a foreign language, and I confessthat I would rather not exhibit. But I do not like to be churlish whenall are so amiable and compliant, and her grace tells me that it cannotwell be postponed, for this is the last quiet night we shall have. WhatI want is a screen, and I must be a moment alone, before I venture onthese enterprises. I require it to create the ideal presence. "

Lothair and Bertram arranged the screen, the duchess and Lady St. Aldegonde glided about, and tranquilly intimated what was going tooccur, so that, without effort, there was in a moment complete silenceand general expectation. Almost unnoticed Mrs. Campian had disappeared, whispering a word as she passed to the eminent conductor, who wasstill seated at the piano. The company had almost unconsciously groupedthemselves in the form of a theatre, the gentlemen generally standingbehind the ladies who were seated. There were some bars of solemn music, and then, to an audience not less nervous than herself, Theodora cameforward as Electra in that beautiful appeal to Clytemnestra, where sheveils her mother's guilt even while she intimates her more than terriblesuspicion of its existence, and makes one last desperate appeal ofpathetic duty in order to save her parent and her fated house:

 "O amata madre, Che fai? Non credo io, no, che ardente fiamma Il cor ti avvampi. "

The ineffable grace of her action, simple without redundancy, herexquisite elocution, her deep yet controlled passion, and the magic of avoice thrilling even in a whisper--this form of Phidias with the geniusof Sophocles--entirely enraptured a fastidious audience. When sheceased, there was an outburst of profound and unaffected appreciation;and Lord St. Aldegonde, who had listened in a sort of ecstasy, rushedforward, with a countenance as serious as the theme, to offer his thanksand express his admiration. 

And then they gathered round her--all these charming women and some ofthese admiring men--as she would have resumed her seat, and entreatedher once more--only once more--to favor them. She caught the adoringglance of the lord of the Towers, and her eyes seemed to inquire whatshe should do. "There will be many strangers here to-morrow, " saidLothair, "and next week all the world. This is a delight only for theinitiated, " and he entreated her to gratify them. 

"It shall be Alfieri's ode to America, then, " said Theodora, "if youplease. "

"She is a Roman, I believe, " said Lady St. Jerome to his eminence, "butnot, alas! a child of the Church. Indeed, I fear her views generally areadvanced, " and she shook her head. 

"At present, " said the cardinal, "this roof and this visit may influenceher. I should like to see such powers engaged in the cause of God. "

The cardinal was an entire believer in female influence, and aconsiderable believer in his influence over females; and he had goodcause for his convictions. The catalogue of his proselytes was numerousand distinguished. He had not only converted a duchess and severalcountesses, but he had gathered into his fold a real Mary Magdalen. Inthe height of her beauty and her fame, the most distinguished memberof the demi-monde had suddenly thrown up her golden whip and jinglingreins, and cast herself at the feet of the cardinal. He had a right, therefore, to be confident; and, while his exquisite taste andconsummate cultivation rendered it impossible that he should not havebeen deeply gratified by the performance of Theodora, he was really thewhole time considering the best means by which such charms and powerscould be enlisted in the cause of the Church. 

After the ladies had retired, the gentlemen talked for a few minutesover the interesting occurrence of the evening. 

"Do you know, " said the bishop to the duke and some surroundingauditors, "fine as was the Electra, I preferred the ode to the tragedy?There was a tumult of her brow, especially in the address to Liberty, that was sublime--quite a Moenad look. "

"What do you think of it, Carry?" said St. Aldegonde to LordCarisbrooke. 

"Brecon says she puts him in mind of Ristori. "

"She is not in the least like Ristori, or any one else, " said St. Aldegonde. "I never heard, I never saw any one like her. I'll tell youwhat--you must take care what you say about her in the smoking-room, forher husband will be there, and an excellent fellow too. We went togetherto the moors this morning, and he did not bore me in the least. Only, ifI had known as much about his wife as I do now, I would have stayed athome, and passed my morning with the women. "

CHAPTER 43

St. Aldegonde loved to preside over the mysteries of the smoking-room. There, enveloped in his Egyptian robe, occasionally blurting out somecareless or headstrong paradox to provoke discussion among others, whichwould amuse himself, rioting in a Rabelaisan anecdote, and listeningwith critical delight to endless memoirs of horses and prima-donnas, St. Aldegonde was never bored. Sometimes, too, when he could get hold ofan eminent traveller, or some individual distinguished for specialknowledge, St. Aldegonde would draw him out with skill; himselfdisplaying an acquaintance with the particular topic which oftensurprised his habitual companions, for St. Aldegonde professed never toread; but he had no ordinary abilities, and an original turn of mindand habit of life, which threw him in the way of unusual persons ofall classes; from whom he imbibed or extracted a vast variety of queer, always amusing, and not altogether useless information. 

"Lothair has only one weakness, " he said to Colonel Campian as theladies disappeared; "he does not smoke. Carry, you will come?"

"Well, I do not think I shall to-night, " said Lord Carisbrooke. LadyCorisande, it appears, particularly disapproved of smoking. 

"Hum!" said St. Aldegonde; "Duke of Brecon, I know, will come, and Hugoand Bertram. My brother Montairy would give his ears to come, but isafraid of his wife; and then there is the monsignore, a most capitalfellow, who knows every thing. "

There were other gatherings, before the midnight bell struck at theTowers, which discussed important affairs, though they might not sitso late as the smoking-party. Lady St. Aldegonde had a reception in herroom as well as her lord. There the silent observation of the eveningfound avenging expression in sparkling criticism, and the summerlightning, though it generally blazed with harmless brilliancy, occasionally assumed a more arrowy character. The gentlemen of thesmoking-room have it not all their own way quite as much as they think. If, indeed, a new school of Athens were to be pictured, the sages andthe students might be represented in exquisite dressing-gowns, withslippers rarer than the lost one of Cinderella, and brandishingbeautiful brushes over tresses still more fair. Then is the time whencharacters are never more finely drawn, or difficult social questionsmore accurately solved; knowledge without reasoning and truth withoutlogic--the triumph of intuition! But we must not profane the mysteriesof Bona Dea. 

The archdeacon and the chaplain had also been in council with the bishopin his dressing-room, who, while he dismissed them with his benison, repeated his apparently satisfactory assurance that something wouldhappen "the first thing after breakfast. "

Lothair did not smoke, but he did not sleep. He was absorbed by thethought of Theodora. He could not but be conscious, and so far he waspleased by the consciousness, that she was as fascinating to others asto himself. What then? Even with the splendid novelty of his majestichome, and all the excitement of such an incident in his life, andthe immediate prospect of their again meeting, he had felt, and evenacutely, their separation. Whether it were the admiration of her byothers which proved his own just appreciation, or whether it were theunobtrusive display of exquisite accomplishments, which, with all theirintimacy, she had never forced on his notice--whatever the cause, her hold upon his heart and life, powerful as it was before, hadstrengthened. Lothair could not conceive existence tolerable withouther constant presence; and with her constant presence existence wouldbe rapture. It had come to that. All his musings, all his profoundinvestigation and high resolve, all his sublime speculations on God andman, and life, and immortality, and the origin of things, and religioustruth, ended in an engrossing state of feeling, which could be denotedin that form and in no other. 

What, then, was his future? It seemed dark and distressing. Her constantpresence his only happiness; her constant presence impossible. He seemedon an abyss. 

In eight-and-forty hours or so one of the chief provinces of Englandwould be blazing with the celebration of his legal accession to his highestate. If any one in the queen's dominions had to be fixed upon as themost fortunate and happiest of her subjects, it might well be Lothair. If happiness depend on lofty station, his ancient and hereditary rankwas of the highest; if, as there seems no doubt, the chief source offelicity in this country is wealth, his vast possessions and accumulatedtreasure could not easily be rivalled, while he had a matchlessadvantage over those who pass, or waste, their gray and withered livesin acquiring millions, in his consummate and healthy youth. He hadbright abilities, and a brighter heart. And yet the unknown truth was, that this favored being, on the eve of this critical event, was pacinghis chamber agitated and infinitely disquieted, and struggling withcircumstances and feelings over which alike he seemed to have nocontrol, and which seemed to have been evoked without the exercise ofhis own will, or that of any other person. 

"I do not think I can blame myself, " he said; "and I am sure I cannotblame her. And yet--"

He opened his window and looked upon the moonlit garden, which filledthe fanciful quadrangle. The light of the fountain seemed to fascinatehis eye, and the music of its fall soothed him into reverie. Thedistressful images that had gathered round his heart gradually vanished, and all that remained to him was the reality of his happiness. Herbeauty and her grace, the sweet stillness of her searching intellect, and the refined pathos of her disposition, only occurred to him, and hedwelt on them with spell-bound joy. 

The great clock of the Towers sounded two. 

"Ah!" said Lothair, "I must try to sleep. I have got to see the bishopto-morrow morning. I wonder what he wants?"

CHAPTER 44

The bishop was particularly playful on the morrow at breakfast. Thoughhis face beamed with Christian kindness, there was a twinkle in his eyewhich seemed not entirely superior to mundane self-complacency, even toa sense of earthly merriment. His seraphic raillery elicited sympatheticapplause from the ladies, especially from the daughters of the house ofBrentham, who laughed occasionally, even before his angelic jokeswere well launched. His lambent flashes sometimes even played over thecardinal, whose cerulean armor, nevertheless, remained always unscathed. Monsignore Chidioch, however, who would once unnecessarily rush to theaid of his chief, was tumbled over by the bishop with relentless gayety, to the infinite delight of Lady Corisande, who only wished it hadbeen that dreadful Monsignore Catesby. But, though less demonstrative, apparently not the least devout, of his lordship's votaries, werethe Lady Flora and the Lady Grizell. These young gentlewomen, thoughapparently gifted with appetites becoming their ample, but far fromgraceless, forms, contrived to satisfy all the wants of nature withouttaking their charmed vision for a moment off the prelate, or losing aword which escaped his consecrated lips. Sometimes even they ventured tosmile, and then they looked at their father and sighed. It was evident, notwithstanding their appetites and their splendid complexions, whichwould have become the Aurora of Guido, that these young ladies had somesecret sorrow which required a confidante. Their visit to Muriel Towerswas their introduction to society, for the eldest had only just attainedsweet seventeen. Young ladies under these circumstances always fall inlove, but with their own sex. Lady Flora and Lady Grizell both fell inlove with Lady Corisande, and before the morning had passed away shehad become their friend and counsellor, and the object of their devotedadoration. It seems that their secret sorrow had its origin in thatmysterious religious sentiment which agitates or affects every classand condition of man, and which creates or destroys states, thoughphilosophers are daily assuring us "that there is nothing in it. " Thedaughters of the Earl of Culloden could not stand any longer the FreeKirk, of which their austere parent was a fiery votary. It seems thatthey had been secretly converted to the Episcopal Church of Scotland bya governess, who pretended to be a daughter of the Covenant, but who wasreally a niece of the primus, and, as Lord Culloden accurately observed, when he ignominiously dismissed her, "a Jesuit in disguise. " From thatmoment there had been no peace in his house. His handsome and giganticdaughters, who had hitherto been all meekness, and who had obeyed him asthey would a tyrant father of the feudal ages, were resolute, and wouldnot compromise their souls. They humbly expressed their desire to entera convent, or to become at least sisters of mercy. Lord Culloden ragedand raved, and delivered himself of cynical taunts, but to no purpose. The principle that forms Free Kirks is a strong principle, and takesmany forms, which the social Polyphemes, who have only one eye, cannotperceive. In his desperate confusion, he thought that change of scenemight be a diversion when things were at the worst, and this was thereason that he had, contrary to his original intention, accepted theinvitation of his ward. 

Lady Corisande was exactly the guide the girls required. They sat oneach side of her, each holding her hand, which they frequently pressedto their lips. As her form was slight, though of perfect grace andsymmetry, the contrast between herself and her worshippers was ratherstartling; but her noble brow, full of thought and purpose, the firmnessof her chiselled lip, and the rich fire of her glance vindicated herpost as the leading spirit. 

They breakfasted in a room which opened on a gallery, and at the otherend of the gallery was an apartment similar to the breakfast-room, which was the male morning-room, and where the world could findthe newspapers, or join in half an hour's talk over the intendedarrangements of the day. When the breakfast-party broke up, the bishopapproached Lothair, and looked at him earnestly. 

"I am at your lordship's service, " said Lothair, and they quitted thebreakfast-room together. Half-way down the gallery they met MonsignoreCatesby, who had in his hand a number, just arrived, of a newspaperwhich was esteemed an Ultramontane organ. He bowed as he passed them, with an air of some exultation, and the bishop and himself exchangedsignificant smiles, which, however, meant different things. Quitting thegallery, Lothair led the way to his private apartments; and, opening thedoor, ushered in the bishop. 

Now, what was contained in the Ultramontane organ which apparentlyoccasioned so much satisfaction to Monsignore Catesby? A deftly drawn-upannouncement of some important arrangements which had been deeplyplanned. The announcement would be repeated In all the daily papers, which were hourly expected. The world was informed that his eminence, Cardinal Grandison, now on a visit at Muriel Towers to his ward, Lothair, would celebrate high mass on the ensuing Sunday in the citywhich was the episcopal capital of the bishop's see, and afterwardpreach on the present state of the Church of Christ. As the bishop mustbe absent from his cathedral that day, and had promised to preach inthe chapel at Muriel, there was something dexterous in thus turning hislordship's flank, and desolating his diocese when he was not present toguard it from the fiery dragon. It was also remarked that there would bean unusual gathering of the Catholic aristocracy for the occasion. Therate of lodgings in the city had risen in consequence. At the end of theparagraph it was distinctly contradicted that Lothair had entered theCatholic Church. Such a statement was declared to be "premature, " ashis guardian, the cardinal, would never sanction his taking such a stepuntil he was the master of his own actions; the general impression leftby the whole paragraph being, that the world was not to be astonished ifthe first stop of Lothair, on accomplishing his majority, was to pursuethe very course which was now daintily described as premature. 

At luncheon the whole party were again assembled. The newspapers hadarrived in the interval, and had been digested. Every one was aware ofthe popish plot, as Hugo Bohun called it. The bishop, however, lookedserene, and, if not as elate as in the morning, calm and content. He satby the duchess, and spoke to her in a low voice, and with seriousness. The monsignore watched every expression. 

When the duchess rose, the bishop accompanied her into the recess of awindow, and she said: "You may depend upon me; I cannot answer for theduke. It is not the early rising; he always rises early in the country, but he likes to read his letters before he dresses, and that sort ofthing. I think you had better speak to Lady Corisande yourself. "

What had taken place at the interview of the bishop with Lothair, andwhat had elicited from the duchess an assurance that the prelatemight depend upon her, generally transpired, in consequence of someconfidential communications, in the course of the afternoon. It appearedthat the right reverend lord had impressed, and successfully, onLothair, the paramount duty of commencing the day of his majority byassisting in an early celebration of the most sacred rite of the Church. This, in the estimation of the bishop, though he had not directlyalluded to the subject in the interview, but had urged the act on highergrounds, would be a triumphant answer to the insidious and calumniousparagraphs which had circulated during the last six months, and anauthentic testimony that Lothair was not going to quit the Church of hisfathers. 

This announcement, however, produced consternation in the oppositecamp. It seemed to more than neutralize the anticipated effect of theprogramme, and the deftly-conceived paragraph. Monsignore Catesby wentabout whispering that he feared Lothair was going to overdo it; andconsidering what he had to go through on Monday, if it were only forconsiderations of health, an early celebration was inexpedient. He triedthe duchess--about whom he was beginning to hover a good deal--as hefancied she was of an impressible disposition, and gave some promise ofresults; but here the ground had been too forcibly preoccupied: then heflew to Lady St. Aldegonde, but he had the mortification of learning, from her lips, that she herself contemplated being a communicant at thesame time. Lady Corisande had been before him. All the energies of thatyoung lady were put forth in order that Lothair should be countenancedon this solemn occasion. She conveyed to the bishop before dinner theresults of her exertions. 

"You may count on Alberta St. Aldegonde and Victoria Montairy, and, Ithink, Lord Montairy also, if she presses him, which she has promisedto do. Bertram must kneel by his friend at such a time. I think LordCarisbrooke may: Duke of Brecon, I can say nothing about at present. "

"Lord St. Aldegonde?" said the bishop. 

Lady Corisande shook her head. 

There had been a conclave in the bishop's room before dinner, in whichthe interview of the morning was discussed. 

"It was successful; scarcely satisfactory, " said the bishop. "He is avery clever fellow, and knows a great deal. They have got hold of him, and he has all the arguments at his fingers' ends. When I came to thepoint, he began to demur; I saw what was passing through his mind, andI said at once: 'Your views are high: so are mine: so are those of theChurch. It is a sacrifice, undoubtedly, in a certain sense. No soundtheologian would maintain the simplicity of the elements; but that doesnot involve the coarse interpretation of the dark ages. '"

"Good, good, " said the archdeacon; "and what is it your lordship did notexactly like?"

"He fenced too much; and he said more than once, and in a manner I didnot like, that, whatever were his views as to the Church, he thought hecould on the whole conscientiously partake of this rite as administeredby the Church of England. "

"Every thing depends on this celebration, " said the chaplain; "afterthat his doubts and difficulties will dispel. "

"We must do our best that he is well supported, " said the archdeacon. 

"No fear of that, " said the bishop. "I have spoken to some of ourfriends. We may depend on the duchess and her daughters--all admirablewomen; and they will do what they can with others. It will be a busyday, but I have expressed my hope that the heads of the household may beable to attend. But the county notables arrive to-day, and I shall makeit a point with them, especially the lord-lieutenant. "

"It should be known, " said the chaplain. "I will send a memorandum tothe Guardian. "

"And John Bull, " said the bishop. 

The lord-lieutenant and Lady Agramont, and their daughter, Lady IdaAlice, arrived to-day; and the high-sheriff, a manufacturer, a greatliberal who delighted in peers, but whose otherwise perfect felicityto-day was a little marred and lessened by the haunting and restlessfear that Lothair was not duly aware that he took precedence of thelord-lieutenant. Then there were Sir Hamlet Clotworthy, the masterof the hounds, and a capital man of business; and the Honorable LadyClotworthy, a haughty dame who ruled her circle with tremendous airs andgraces, but who was a little subdued in the empyrean of Muriel Towers. The other county member, Mr. Ardenne, was a refined gentleman, and lovedthe arts. He had an ancient pedigree, and knew everybody else's, whichwas not always pleasant. What he most prided himself on was being thehereditary owner of a real deer--park the only one, he asserted, in thecounty. Other persons had parks which had deer in them, but that wasquite a different thing. His wife was a pretty woman, and the inspiringgenius of archeological societies, who loved their annual luncheonin her Tudor Halls, and illustrated by their researches the deeds anddwellings of her husband's ancient race. 

The clergy of the various parishes on the estate all dined at the Towersto-day, in order to pay their respects to their bishop. "Lothair'soecumenical council, " said Hugo Bohun, as he entered the crowded room, and looked around him with an air of not ungraceful impertinence. Amongthe clergy was Mr. Smylie, the brother of Apollonia. 

A few years ago, Mr. Putney Giles had not unreasonably availed himselfof the position which he so usefully and so honorably filled, torecommend this gentleman to the guardians of Lothair to fill a vacantbenefice. The Reverend Dionysius Smylie had distinguished himself atTrinity College, Dublin, and had gained a Hebrew scholarship there;after that he had written a work on the Revelations, which clearlysettled the long-controverted point whether Rome in the great apocalypsewas signified by Babylon. The bishop shrugged his shoulders when hereceived Mr. Smylie's papers, the examining chaplain sighed, and thearchdeacon groaned. But man is proverbially short-sighted. The doctrineof evolution affords no instances so striking as those of sacerdotaldevelopment. Placed under the favoring conditions of clime and soil, the real character of the Reverend Dionysius Smylie gradually, butpowerfully, developed itself. Where he now ministered, he was attendedby acolytes, and incensed by thurifers. The shoulders of a fellowcountryman were alone equal to the burden of the enormous cross whichpreceded him; while his ecclesiastical wardrobe furnished him with manycolored garments, suited to every season of the year, and every festivalof the Church. 

At first there was indignation, and rumors or prophecies that we shouldsoon have another case of perversion, and that Mr. Smylie was going overto Rome; but these superficial commentators misapprehended the vigorousvanity of the man. "Rome may come to me, " said Mr. Smylie, "and it isperhaps the best thing it could do. This is the real Church withoutRomish error. "

The bishop and his reverend stuff, who were at first so much annoyedat the preferment of Mr. Smylie, had now, with respect to him, onlyone duty, and that was to restrain his exuberant priestliness; but theyfulfilled that duty in a kindly and charitable spirit; and, when theReverend Dionysius Smylie was appointed chaplain to Lothair, thebishop did not shrug his shoulders, the chaplain did not sigh, nor thearchdeacon groan. 

The party was so considerable to-day that they dined in the great hall. When it was announced to Lothair that his lordship's dinner was served, and he offered his arm to his destined companion, he looked around, and, then in an audible voice, and with a stateliness becoming such anincident, called upon the high-sheriff to lead the duchess to the table. Although that eminent personage had been thinking of nothing else fordays, and during the last half-hour had felt as a man feels, and canonly feel, who knows that some public function is momentarily about tofall to his perilous discharge, he was taken quite aback, changed color, and lost his head. But the band of Lothair, who were waiting at the doorof the apartment to precede the procession to the hall, striking up atthis moment "The Roast Beef of Old England, " reanimated his heart; and, following Lothair, and preceding all the other guests down the gallery, and through many chambers, he experienced the proudest moment of a lifeof struggle, ingenuity, vicissitude, and success. 

CHAPTER 45

Under all this flowing festivity there was already a current of struggleand party passion. Serious thoughts and some anxiety occupied the mindsof several of the guests, amid the variety of proffered dishes andsparkling wines, and the subdued strains of delicate music. Thisdisquietude did not touch Lothair. He was happy to find himself in hisancestral hall, surrounded by many whom he respected, and by some whomhe loved. He was an excellent host, which no one can be who does notcombine a good heart with high breeding. 

Theodora was rather far from him, but he could catch her grave, sweetcountenance at an angle of the table, as she bowed her head to Mr. Ardenne, the county member, who was evidently initiating her in all themysteries of deer-parks. The cardinal sat near him, winning over, thoughwithout apparent effort, the somewhat prejudiced Lady Agramont. Hiseminence could converse with more facility than others, for he dined offbiscuits and drank only water. 

Lord Culloden had taken out Lady St. Jerome, who expended on him all theresources of her impassioned tittle-tattle, extracting only grim smiles;and Lady Corisande had fallen to the happy lot of the Duke of Brecon;according to the fine perception of Clare Arundel--and women are veryquick in these discoveries--the winning horse. St. Aldegonde had managedto tumble in between Lady Flora and Lady Grizell, and seemed immenselyamused. 

The duke inquired of Lothair how many he could dine in his hall. 

"We must dine more than two hundred on Monday, " he replied. 

"And now, I should think, we have only a third of that number, " said hisgrace. "It will be a tight fit. "

"Mr. Putney Giles has had a drawing made, and every seat apportioned. Weshall just do it. "

"I fear you will have too busy a day on Monday, " said the cardinal, whohad caught up the conversation. 

"Well, you know, sir, I do not sit up smoking with Lord St. Aldegonde. "

After dinner, Lady Corisande seated herself by Mrs. Campian. "You musthave thought me very rude, " she said, "to have left you so suddenly attea, when the bishop looked into the room; but he wanted me on a matterof the greatest importance. I must, therefore, ask your pardon. Younaturally would not feel on this matter as we all do, or most of us do, "she added with some hesitation; "being--pardon me--a foreigner, and thequestion involving national as well as religious feelings;" and then, somewhat hurriedly, but with emotion, she detailed to Theodora allthat had occurred respecting the early celebration on Monday, and theopposition it was receiving from the cardinal and his friends. It was arelief to Lady Corisande thus to express all her feelings on a subjecton which she had been brooding the whole day. 

"You mistake, " said Theodora, quietly, when Lady Corisande had finished. "I am much interested in what you tell me. I should deplore our friendfalling under the influence of the Romish priesthood. "

"And yet there is danger of it, " said Lady Corisande, "more thandanger, " she added in a low but earnest voice. "You do not know what aconspiracy is going on, and has been going on for months, to effect thisend. I tremble. "

"That is the last thing I ever do, " said Theodora, with a faint, sweetsmile. "I hope, but I never tremble. "

"You have seen the announcement in the newspapers to-day!" said LadyCorisande. 

"I think, if they were certain of their prey, they would be morereserved, " said Theodora. 

"There is something in that, " said Lady Corisande, musingly. "You knownot what a relief it is to me to speak to you on this matter. Mammaagrees with me, and so do my sisters; but still they may agree with mebecause they are my mamma and my sisters; but I look upon our nobilityjoining the Church of Rome as the greatest calamity that has everhappened to England. Irrespective of all religious considerations, onwhich I will not presume to touch, it is an abnegation of patriotism;and in this age, when all things are questioned, a love of our countryseems to me the one sentiment to cling to. "

"I know no higher sentiment, " said Theodora in a low voice, and yetwhich sounded like the breathing of some divine shrine, and her Athenianeye met the fiery glance of Lady Corisande with an expression of noblesympathy. 

"I am so glad that I spoke to you on this matter, " said Lady Corisande, "for there is something in you which encourages me. As you say, if theywere certain, they would be silent; and yet, from what I hear, theirhopes are high. You know, " she added in a whisper, "that he hasabsolutely engaged to raise a popish cathedral. My brother, Bertram, hasseen the model in his rooms. "

"I have known models that were never realized, " said Theodora. 

"Ah! you are hopeful; you said you were hopeful. It is a beautifuldisposition. It is not mine, " she added, with a sigh. 

"It should be, " said Theodora; "you were not born to sigh. Sighs shouldbe for those who have no country, like myself; not for the daughters ofEngland--the beautiful daughters of proud England. "

"But you have your husband's country, and that is proud and great. "

"I have only one country, and it is not my husband's; and I have onlyone thought, and it is to set it free. "

"It is a noble one, " said Lady Corisande, "as I am sure are all yourthoughts. There are the gentlemen; I am sorry they have come. There, "she added, as Monsignore Catesby entered the room, "there is his evilgenius. "

"But you have baffled him, " said Theodora. 

"Ah, " said Lady Corisande, with a long-drawn sigh. "Their manoeuvresnever cease. However, I think Monday must be safe. Would you come?" shesaid, with a serious, searching glance, and in a kind of coaxing murmur. 

"I should be an intruder, my dear lady, " said Theodora, declining thesuggestion; "but, so far as hoping that our friend will never join theChurch of Rome, you will have ever my ardent wishes. "

Theodora might have added her belief, for Lothair had never concealedfrom her a single thought or act of his life in this respect. Sheknew all and had weighed every thing, and flattered herself that theirfrequent and unreserved conversations had not confirmed his beliefin the infallibility of the Church of Rome, and perhaps of some otherthings. 

It had been settled that there should be dancing this evening--all theyoung ladies had wished it. Lothair danced with Lady Flora Falkirk, andher sister, Lady Grizell, was in the same quadrille. They moved aboutlike young giraffes in an African forest, but looked bright and happy. Lothair liked his cousins; their inexperience and innocence, and thesimplicity with which they exhibited and expressed their feelings, hadin them something bewitching. Then the rough remembrance of his old lifeat Falkirk and its contrast with the present scene had in it somethingstimulating. They were his juniors by several years, but they werealways gentle and kind to him; and sometimes it seemed he was the onlyperson whom they, too, had found kind and gentle. He called hiscousin, too, by her Christian name, and he was amused, standing by thisbeautiful giantess, and calling her Flora. There were other amusingcircumstances in the quadrille; not the least, Lord St. Aldegondedancing with Mrs. Campian. The wonder of Lady St. Aldegonde was onlyequalled by her delight. 

The lord-lieutenant was standing by the duke, in a comer of the saloon, observing, not with dissatisfaction, his daughter, Lady Ida Alice, dancing with Lothair. 

"Do you know this is the first time I ever had the honor of meeting acardinal?" he said. 

"And we never expected that it would happen to either of us in thiscountry when we were at Christchurch together, " replied the duke. 

"Well, I hope every thing is for the best, " said Lord Agramont. "Weare to have all these gentlemen in our good city of Grandchester, to-morrow. "

"So I understand. "

"You read that paragraph in the newspapers? Do you think there is anything in it?"

"About our friend? It would be a great misfortune. "

"The bishop says there is nothing in it, " said the lord-lieutenant. 

"Well, he ought to know. I understand he has had some seriousconversation recently with our friend?"

"Yes; he has spoken to me about it. Are you going to attend the earlycelebration tomorrow? It is not much to my taste; a little new-fangled, I think; but I shall go, as they say it will do good. "

"I am glad of that; it is well that he should be impressed at thismoment with the importance and opinion of his county. "

"Do you know I never saw him before?" said the lord-lieutenant. "He iswinning. "

"I know no youth, " said the duke, "I would not except my own son, andBertram has never given me an uneasy moment, of whom I have a betteropinion, both as to heart and head. I should deeply deplore his beingsmashed by a Jesuit. "

The dancing had ceased for a moment; there was a stir; Lord Carisbrookewas enlarging, with unusual animation, to an interested group, abouta new dance at Paris--the new dance. Could they not have it here?Unfortunately, he did not know its name, and could not describe itsfigure; but it was something new; quite new; they got it at Paris. Princess Metternich dances it. He danced it with her, and she taught ithim; only he never could explain any thing, and indeed never did exactlymake it out. "But you danced it with a shawl, and then two ladies holdthe shawl, and the cavaliers pass under it. In fact, it is the onlything; it is the new dance at Paris. "

What a pity that any thing so delightful should be so indefiniteand perplexing, and indeed impossible, which rendered it still moredesirable! If Lord Carisbrooke only could have remembered its name, or asingle step in its figure--it was so tantalizing!

"Do not you think so?" said Hugo Bohun to Mrs. Campian, who was sittingapart, listening to Lord St. Aldegonde's account of his travels in theUnited States, which he was very sorry he ever quitted. And then theyinquired to what Mr. Bohun referred, and then he told them all that hadbeen said. 

"I know what he means, " said Mrs. Campian. "It is not a French dance; itis a Moorish dance. "

"That woman knows everything, Hugo, " said Lord St. Aldegonde in a solemnwhisper. And then he called to his wife. "Bertha, Mrs. Campian will tellyou all about this dance that Carisbrooke is making such a mull of. Now, look here, Bertha; you must get the Campians to come to us as soon aspossible. They are going to Scotland from this place, and there is noreason, if you manage it well, why they should not come on to us atonce. Now, exert yourself. "

"I will do all I can, Granville. "

"It is not French, it is Moorish; it is called the Tangerine, " saidTheodora to her surrounding votaries. "You begin with a circle. "

"But how are we to dance without the music?" said Lady Montairy. 

"Ah! I wish I had known this, " said Theodora, "before dinner, and Ithink I could have dotted down something that would have helped us. Butlet me see, " and she went up to the eminent professor, with whom she waswell acquainted, and said, "Signor Ricci, it begins so, " and shehummed divinely a fantastic air, which, after a few moments' musing, he reproduced; "and then it goes off into what they call in Spain asaraband. Is there a shawl in the room?"

"My mother has always a shawl in reserve, " said Bertram, "particularlywhen she pays visits to houses where there are galleries;" and hebrought back a mantle of Cashmere. 

"Now, Signor Ricci, " said Mrs. Campian, and she again hummed an air, andmoved forward at the same time with brilliant grace, waving at the endthe shawl. 

The expression of her countenance, looking round to Signor Ricci, as shewas moving on to see whether he had caught her idea, fascinated Lothair. 

"It is exactly what I told you, " said Lord Carisbrooke, "and, I canassure you, it is the only dance now. I am very glad I remembered it. "

"I see it all, " said Signor Ricci, as Theodora rapidly detailed to himthe rest of the figure. "And at any rate it will be the Tangerine withvariations. "

"Let me have the honor of being your partner in this great enterprise, "said Lothair; "you are the inspiration of Muriel. "

"Oh! I am very glad I can do any thing, however slight, to please youand your friends. I like them all; but particularly Lady Corisande. "

A new dance in a country-house is a festival of frolic grace. Theincomplete knowledge, and the imperfect execution, are themselves causesof merry excitement, in their contrast with the unimpassioned routineand almost unconscious practice of traditionary performances. And gayand frequent were the bursts of laughter from the bright and airy bandwho were proud to be the scholars of Theodora. The least successfulamong them was perhaps Lord Carisbrooke. 

"Princess Metternich must have taught you wrong, Carisbrooke, " said HugoBohun. 

They ended with a waltz, Lothair dancing with Miss Arundel. She acceptedhis offer to take some tea on its conclusion. While they were standingat the table, a little withdrawn from the others, and he holding asugar-basin, she said in a low voice, looking on her cup and not at him, "the cardinal is vexed about the early celebration; he says it shouldhave been at midnight. "

"I am sorry he is vexed, " said Lothair. 

"He was going to speak to you himself, " continued Miss Arundel; "buthe felt a delicacy about it. He had thought that your common feelingsrespecting the Church might have induced you if not to consult, at leastto converse, with him on the subject; I mean as your guardian. "

"It might have been perhaps as well, " said Lothair; "but I also feel adelicacy on these matters. "

"There ought to be none on such matters, " continued Miss Arundel, "whenevery thing is at stake. "

"I do not see that I could have taken any other course than I havedone, " said. Lothair. "It can hardly be wrong. The bishop's church viewsare sound. "

"Sound!" said Miss Arundel; "moonshine instead of sunshine. "

"Moonshine would rather suit a midnight than a morning celebration, "said Lothair; "would it not?"

"A fair repartee, but we are dealing with a question that cannot besettled by jests. See, " she said with great seriousness, putting downher cup and taking again his offered arm, "you think you are onlycomplying with a form befitting your position and the occasion. Youdeceive yourself. You are hampering your future freedom by this step, and they know it. That is why it was planned. It was not necessary;nothing can be necessary so pregnant with evil. You might have made, youmight yet make, a thousand excuses. It is a rite which hardly suits thelevity of the hour, even with their feelings; but, with your view ofits real character, it is sacrilege. What at is occurring tonight mightfurnish you with scruples?" And she looked up in his face. 

"I think you take an exaggerated view of what I contemplate, " saidLothair. "Even with your convictions, it may be an imperfect rite; butit never can be an injurious one. "

"There can be no compromise on such matters, " said Miss Arundel. "TheChurch knows nothing of imperfect rites. They are all perfect, becausethey are all divine; any deviation from them is heresy, and fatal. Myconvictions on this subject are your convictions; act up to them. "

"I am sure, if thinking of these matters would guide a man right--" saidLothair, with a sigh, and he stopped. 

"Human thought will never guide you; and very justly, when you have fora guide Divine truth. You are now your own master; go at once to itsfountain-head; go to Rome, and then all your perplexities will vanish, and forever. "

"I do not see much prospect of my going to Rome, " said Lothair, "atleast at present. "

"Well, " said Miss Arundel, "in a few weeks I hope to be there; and ifso, I hope never to quit it. "

"Do not say that; the future is always unknown. "

"Not yours, " said Miss Arundel. "Whatever you think, you will go toRome. Mark my words. I summon you to meet me at Rome. "

CHAPTER 46

There can be little doubt, generally speaking, that it is moresatisfactory to pass Sunday in the country than in town. There issomething in the essential stillness of country-life, which blendsharmoniously with the ordinance of the most divine of our divine laws. It is pleasant, too, when the congregation breaks up, to greet one'sneighbors; to say kind words to kind faces; to hear some rural newsprofitable to learn, which sometimes enables you to do some good, andsometimes prevents others from doing some harm. A quiet, domestic walk, too, in the afternoon, has its pleasures; and so numerous and so variousare the sources of interest in the country, that, though it be Sunday, there is no reason why your walk should not have an object. 

But Sunday in the country, with your house full of visitors, is toooften an exception to this general truth. It is a trial. Your guestscannot always be at church, and, if they could, would not like it. Thereis nothing to interest or amuse them; no sport; no castles or factoriesto visit; no adventurous expeditions; no gay music in the morn, and nolight dance in the evening. There is always danger of the day becominga course of heavy meals and stupid walks, for the external scene and allteeming circumstances, natural and human, though full of concern to you, are to your visitors an insipid blank. 

How did Sunday go off at Muriel Towers?

In the first place, there was a special train, which, at an earlyhour, took the cardinal and his suite and the St. Jerome family toGrandchester, where they were awaited with profound expectation. Butthe Anglican portion of the guests were not without their share ofecclesiastical and spiritual excitement, for the bishop was to preachthis day in the chapel of the Towers, a fine and capacious sanctuary offlorid Gothic, and hit lordship was a sacerdotal orator of repute. 

It had been announced that the breakfast-hour was to be somewhatearlier. The ladies in general were punctual, and seemed conscious ofsome great event impending. The Ladies Flora and Grizell entered with, each in her hand, a prayer-book of purple velvet, adorned with a decidedcross, the gift of the primus. Lord Culloden, at the request of LadyCorisande, had consented to their hearing the bishop, which he would notdo himself. He passed his morning in finally examining the guardians'accounts, the investigation of which he conducted and concluded, duringthe rest of the day, with Mr. Putney Giles. Mrs. Campian did not leaveher room. Lord St. Aldegonde came down late, and looked about him withan uneasy, ill-humored air. 

Whether it were the absence of Theodora, or some other cause, he wasbrusk, ungracious, scowling, and silent, only nodding to the bishop, whobenignly saluted him, refusing every dish that was offered; then gettingup, and helping himself at the side-table, making a great noise with thecarving instruments, and flouncing down his plate when he resumed hisseat. Nor was his costume correct. All the other gentlemen, though theirusual morning-dresses were sufficiently fantastic--trunk-hose of everyform, stockings bright as paroquets, wondrous shirts, and velvet-coatsof every tint--habited themselves to-day, both as regards form andcolor, in a style indicative of the subdued gravity of their feelings. Lord St. Aldegonde had on his shooting-jacket of brown velvet and apink-shirt and no cravat, and his rich brown locks, always, to a certaindegree, neglected, were peculiarly dishevelled. 

Hugo Bohun, who was not afraid of him, and was a high-churchman, being, in religion, and in all other matters, always on the side of theduchesses, said: "Well, St. Aldegonde, are you going to chapel in thatdress?" But St. Aldegonde would not answer; he gave a snort, and glancedat Hugo, with the eye of a gladiator. 

The meal was over. The bishop was standing near the mantel-piece talkingto the ladies, who were clustered round him; the archdeacon and thechaplain and some other clergy a little in the background; Lord St. Aldegonde, who, whether there were a fire or not, always stood withhis back to the fireplace with his hands in his pockets, moveddiscourteously among them, assumed his usual position, and listened, as it were, grimly, for a few moments to their talk; then he suddenlyexclaimed in a loud voice, and with the groan of a rebellious Titan, "How I hate Sunday!"

"Granville!" exclaimed Lady St. Aldegonde, turning pale. There was ageneral shudder. 

"I mean in a country-house, " said Lord St. Aldegonde. "Of course, I meanin a country-house. I do not dislike it when alone, and I do not dislikeit in London. But Sunday in a country-house is infernal. "

"I think it is now time for us to go, " said the bishop, walking awaywith dignified reserve, and they all dispersed. 

The service was choral and intoned; for, although the Rev. DionysiusSmylie had not yet had time or opportunity, as was his intention, toform and train a choir from the household of the Towers, he had securedfrom his neighboring parish and other sources external and effective aidin that respect. The parts of the service were skillfully distributed, and rarely were a greater number of priests enlisted in a more imposingmanner. A good organ was well played; the singing, as usual, a littletoo noisy; there was an anthem and an introit--but no incense, which wasforbidden by the bishop; and, though there were candles on the altar, they were not permitted to be lighted. 

The sermon was most successful; the ladies returned with elate andanimated faces, quite enthusiastic and almost forgetting in theirsatisfaction the terrible outrage of Lord St. Aldegonde. He himself hadby this time repented of what he had done, and recovered his temper, andgreeted his wife with a voice and look which indicated to her practisedsenses the favorable change. 

"Bertha, " he said, "you know I did not mean any thing personal to thebishop in what I said. I do not like bishops; I think there is no usein them; but I have no objection to him personally; I think him anagreeable man; not at all a bore. Just put it right, Bertha. But I tellyou what, Bertha, I cannot go to church here. Lord Culloden does not go, and he is a very religious man. He is the man I most agree with on thesematters. I am a free-church man, and there is on end of it. I cannot gothis afternoon. I do not approve of the whole thing. It is altogetheragainst my conscience. What I mean to do, if I can manage it, is to takea real long walk with the Campians. "

Mrs. Campian appeared at luncheon. The bishop was attentive to her; evencordial. He was resolved she should not feel he was annoyed by her nothaving been a member of his congregation in the morning. Lady Corisandetoo had said to him: "I wish so much you would talk to Mrs. Campian;she is a sweet, noble creature, and so clever! I feel that she might bebrought to view things in the right light. "

"I never know, " said the bishop, "how to deal with these Americanladies. I never can make out what they believe, or what they disbelieve. It is a sort of confusion between Mrs. Beecher Stowe and the FifthAvenue congregation and--Barnum, " he added with a twinkling eye. 

The second service was late; the dean preached. The lateness of the hourpermitted the lord-lieutenant and those guests who had arrived only theprevious day to look over the castle, or ramble about the gardens. St. Aldegonde succeeded in his scheme of a real long walk with the Campians, which Lothair, bound to listen to the head of his college, was notpermitted to share. 

In the evening Signor Mardoni, who had arrived, and Madame Isola Bella, favored them with what they called sacred music; principally prayersfrom operas and a grand Stabat Mater. 

Lord Culloden invited Lothair into a farther saloon, where they mightspeak without disturbing the performers or the audience. 

"I'll just take advantage, my dear boy, " said Lord Culloden, in a toneof unusual tenderness, and of Doric accent, "of the absence of thesegentlemen to have a little quiet conversation with you. Though I havenot seen so much of you of late as in old days, I take a great interestin you, no doubt of that, and I was very pleased to see how good-naturedyou were to the girls. You have romped with them when they were littleones. Now, in a few hours, you will be master of a great inheritance, and I hope it will profit ye. I have been over the accounts with Mr. Giles, and I was pleased to hear that you had made yourself properlyacquainted with them in detail. Never you sign any paper without readingIt first, and knowing well what it means. You will have to sign arelease to us if you be satisfied, and that you may easily be. My poorbrother-in-law left you as large an income as may be found on this sideTrent, but I will be bound he would stare if he saw the total ofthe whole of your rent-roll, Lothair. Your affairs have been welladministered, though I say it who ought not. But it is not my managementonly, or principally, that has done it. It is the progress of thecountry, and you owe the country a good deal, and you should neverforget you are born to be a protector of its liberties, civil andreligious. And if the country sticks to free trade, and would enlargeits currency, and be firm to the Protestant faith, it will, under DivineProvidence, continue to progress. 

"And here, my boy, I'll just say a word, in no disagreeable manner, about your religious principles. There are a great many stories about, and perhaps they are not true, and I am sure I hope they are not. Ifpopery were only just the sign of the cross, and music, and censer-pots, though I think them all superstitious, I'd be free to leave them aloneif they would leave me. But popery is a much deeper thing than that, Lothair, and our fathers found it out. They could not stand it, and weshould be a craven crew to stand it now. A man should be master in hisown house. You will be taking a wife, some day; at least it is to behoped so; and how will you like one of these monsignores to be walkinginto her bedroom, eh; and talking to her alone when he pleases, andwhere he pleases; and when you want to consult your wife, which a wiseman should often do, to find there is another mind between hers andyours? There's my girls, they are just two young geese, and they have ahankering after popery, having had a Jesuit in the house. I do not knowwhat has become of the women. They are for going into a convent, andthey are quite right in that, for if they be papists they will not finda husband easily in Scotland, I ween. 

"And as for you, my boy, they will be telling you that it is only justthis and just that, and there's no great difference, and what not; butI tell you that, if once you embrace the scarlet lady, you are a taintedcorpse. You'll not be able to order your dinner without a priest, andthey will ride your best horses without saying with your leave or byyour leave. "

The concert in time ceased; there was a stir in the room; the Rev. Dionysius Smylie moved about mysteriously, and ultimately seemed to makean obeisance before the bishop. It was time for prayers. 

"Shall you go?" said Lord St. Aldegonde to Mrs. Campian, by whom he wassitting. 

"I like to pray alone, " she answered. 

"As for that, " said Aldegonde, "I am not clear we ought to pray at all, either in public or private. It seems very arrogant in us to dictate toan all-wise Creator what we desire. "

"I believe in the efficacy of prayer, " said Theodora. 

"And I believe in you, " said St. Aldegonde, after a momentary pause. 

CHAPTER 47

On the morrow, the early celebration in the chapel was numerouslyattended. The duchess and her daughters, Lady Agramont, and Mrs. Ardenne, were among the faithful; but what encouraged and gratified thebishop was, that the laymen, on whom he less relied, were numerouslyrepresented. The lord-lieutenant, Lord Carisbrooke, Lord Montairy, Bertram, and Hugo Bohun accompanied Lothair to the altar. 

After the celebration, Lothair retired to his private apartments. Itwas arranged that he was to join his assembled friends at noon, whenhe would receive their congratulations, and some deputations from thecounty. 

At noon, therefore, preparatively preceded by Mr. Putney Giles, whose thought was never asleep, and whose eye was on every thing, theguardians, the cardinal, and the Earl of Culloden, waited on Lothair toaccompany him to his assembled friends, and, as it were, launch him intothe world. 

They were assembled at one end of the chief gallery, and in a circle. Although the deputations would have to advance the whole length of thechamber, Lothair and his guardians entered from a side apartment. Evenwith this assistance he felt very nervous. There was no lack of feeling, and, among many, of deep feeling, on this occasion, but there was anequal and a genuine exhibition of ceremony. 

The lord-lieutenant was the first person who congratulated Lothair, though the high-sheriff had pushed forward for that purpose, but, in hisawkward precipitation, he got involved with the train of the Hon. LadyClotworthy, who bestowed on him such a withering glance, that he felta routed man, and gave up the attempt. There were many kind and someearnest words. Even St. Aldegonde acknowledged the genius of theoccasion. He was grave, graceful, and dignified, and, addressingLothair by his title, he said, "that he hoped he would meet in life thathappiness which he felt confident he deserved. " Theodora said nothing, though her lips seemed once to move; but she retained for a momentLothair's hand, and the expression of her countenance touched hisinnermost heart. Lady Corisande beamed with dazzling beauty. Hercountenance was joyous, radiant; her mien imperial and triumphant. Shegave her hand with graceful alacrity to Lothair, and said in a hushedtone, but every word of which reached his ear, "One of the happiesthours of my life was eight o'clock this morning. "

The lord-lieutenant and the county members then retired to the other endof the gallery, and ushered in the deputation of the magistracy of thecounty, congratulating their new brother, for Lothair had justbeen appointed to the bench, on his secession to his estates. Thelord-lieutenant himself read the address, to which Lothair replied witha propriety all acknowledged. Then came the address of the mayor andcorporation of Grandchester, of which city Lothair was hereditaryhigh-steward; and then that of his tenantry, which was cordial andcharacteristic. And here many were under the impression that thisportion of the proceedings would terminate; but it was not so. There hadbeen some whispering between the bishop and the archdeacon, and the Rev. Dionysius Smylie had, after conference with his superiors, twice leftthe chamber. It seems that the clergy had thought fit to take thisoccasion of congratulating Lothair on his great accession and theproportionate duties which it would fall on him to fulfil. The bishopapproached Lothair and addressed him in a whisper. Lothair seemedsurprised and a little agitated, but apparently bowed assent. Then thebishop and his staff proceeded to the end of the gallery and introduceda diocesan deputation, consisting of archdeacons and rural deans, whopresented to Lothair a most uncompromising address, and begged hisacceptance of a bible and prayer-book richly bound, and borne by theRev. Dionysius Smylie on a cushion of velvet. 

The habitual pallor of the cardinal's countenance became unusually wan;the cheek of Clare Arundel was a crimson flush; Monsignore Catesbybit his lip; Theodora looked with curious seriousness, as if she wereobserving the manners of a foreign country; St. Aldegonde snorted, andpushed his hand through his hair, which had been arranged in unusualorder. The great body of those present, unaware that this deputation wasunexpected, were unmoved. 

It was a trial for Lothair, and scarcely a fair one. He was not unequalto it, and what he said was esteemed, at the moment, by all partiesas satisfactory; though the archdeacon, in secret conclave, afterwardobserved that he dwelt more on religion than on the Church, and spoke ofthe Church of Christ and not of the Church of England. He thanked themfor their present of volumes, which all must reverence or respect. 

While all this was taking place within the Towers, vast bodies of peoplewere assembling without. Besides the notables of the county and histenantry and their families, which drained all the neighboring villages, Lothair had forwarded several thousand tickets to the mayorand corporation of Grandchester, for distribution among theirfellow-townsmen, who were invited to dine at Muriel and partake of thefestivities of the day, and trains were hourly arriving with their eagerand happy guests. The gardens were at once open for their unrestrictedpleasure, but at two o'clock, according to the custom of the countyunder such circumstances, Lothair held what, in fact, was a lev e, orrather a drawing-room, when every person who possessed a ticket waspermitted, and even invited and expected, to pass through the wholerange of the state apartments of Muriel Towers, and at the same time paytheir respects to, and make the acquaintance of, their lord. 

Lothair stood with his chief friends near him, the ladies, however, seated, and every one passed--farmers and townsmen and honest folk, downto the stokers of the trains from Grandchester, with whose presenceSt. Aldegonde was much pleased, and whom he carefully addressed as theypassed by. 

After this great reception they all dined in pavilions in the park--onethousand tenantry by themselves, and at a fixed hour; the miscellaneousmultitude in a huge crimson tent, very lofty, with many flags, and inwhich was served a banquet that never stopped till sunset, so that intime all might be satisfied; the notables and deputations, with theguests in the house, lunched in the armory. It was a bright day, andthere was unceasing music. 

In the course of the afternoon Lothair visited the pavilions, where hishealth was proposed, and pledged--in the first by one of his tenants, and in the other by a workman, both orators of repute; and he addressedand thanked his friends. This immense multitude, orderly and joyous, roamed about the parks and gardens, or danced on a platform whichthe prescient experience of Mr. Giles had provided for them in a duelocality, and whiled away the pleasant hours, in expectation a littlefeverish of the impending fireworks, which, there was a rumor, wereto be on a scale and in a style of which neither Grandchester nor thecounty had any tradition. 

"I remember your words at Blenheim, " said Lothair to Theodora. "Youcannot say the present party is founded on the principle of exclusion. "

In the mean time, about six o'clock, Lothair dined in his great hallwith his two hundred guests at a banquet where all the resources ofnature and art seemed called upon to contribute to its luxury andsplendor. The ladies, who had never before dined at a public dinner, were particularly delighted. They were delighted by the speeches, thoughthey had very few; they were delighted by the national anthem, allrising; particularly, they were delighted by "three-times-three, and onecheer more, " and "hip, hip. " It seemed to their unpractised ears likea great naval battle, or the end of the world, or any thing else ofunimaginable excitement, tumult, and confusion. 

The lord-lieutenant proposed Lothair's health, and dexterously madehis comparative ignorance of the subject the cause of his attemptinga sketch of what he hoped might be the character of the person whosehealth he proposed. Every one intuitively felt the resemblance wasjust, and even complete, and Lothair confirmed their kind and sanguineanticipations by his terse and well-considered reply. His proposition ofthe ladies' healths was a signal that the carriages were ready to takethem, as arranged, to Muriel Mere. 

The sun had set in glory over the broad expanse of waters still glowingin the dying beam; the people were assembled in thousands on the bordersof the lake, in the centre of which was an island with a pavilion. Fanciful barges and gondolas of various shapes and colors were waitingfor Lothair and his party, to carry them over to the pavilion, wherethey found a repast which became the hour and the scene--coffee andices and whimsical drinks, which sultanas would sip in Arabian tales. Nosooner were they seated than the sound of music was heard--distant, butnow nearer, till there came floating on the lake, until it rested beforethe pavilion, a gigantic shell, larger than the building itself, but holding in its golden and opal seats Signor Mardoni and all hisorchestra. 

Then came a concert rare in itself, but ravishing in the rosy twilight;and in about half an hour, when the rosy twilight had subsided intoa violet eve, and when the white moon that had only gleamed beganto glitter, the colossal shell again moved on, and Lothair and hiscompanions, embarking once more in their gondolas, followed it inprocession about the lake. He carried in his own bark the duchess, Theodora, and the lord-lieutenant, and was rowed by a crew inVenetian dresses. As he handed Theodora to her seat, the impulse wasirresistible--he pressed her hand to his lips. 

Suddenly a rocket rose with a hissing rush from the pavilion. It wasinstantly responded to from every quarter of the lake. Then the islandseemed on fire, and the scene of their late festivity became a brilliantpalace, with pediments and columns and statues, bright in the blaze ofcolored flame. For half an hour the sky seemed covered with blue lightsand the bursting forms of many-colored stars; golden fountains, like theeruption of a marine volcano, rose from different parts of the water;the statued palace on the island changed and became a forest glowingwith green light; and finally a temple of cerulean tint, on whichappeared in huge letters of prismatic color the name of Lothair. 

The people cheered, but even the voice of the people was overcome bytroops of rockets rising from every quarter of the lake, and by thethunder of artillery. When the noise and the smoke had both subsided, the name of Lothair still legible on the temple but the letters quitewhite, it was perceived that on every height for fifty miles round theyhad fired a beacon. 

CHAPTER 48

The ball at Muriel which followed the concert on the lake was one ofthose balls which, it would seem, never would end. All the preliminaryfestivities, instead of exhausting the guests of Lothair, appeared onlyto have excited them, and rendered them more romantic and less tolerantof the routine of existence. They danced in the great gallery, which wasbrilliant and crowded, and they danced as they dance in a festive dream, with joy and the enthusiasm of gayety. The fine ladies would sanctionno exclusiveness. They did not confine their inspiring society, as issometimes too often the case, to the Brecons and the Bertrams and theCarisbrookes; they danced fully and freely with the youth of the county, and felt that in so doing they were honoring and gratifying their host. 

At one o'clock they supped in the armory, which was illuminated forthe first time, and a banquet in a scene so picturesque and resplendentrenovated not merely their physical energies. At four o'clock theduchess and a few others quietly disappeared, but her daughtersremained, and St. Aldegonde danced endless reels, which was a form inwhich he preferred to worship Terpsichore. Perceiving by an open windowthat it was dawn, he came up to Lothair and said, "This is a case ofbreakfast. "

Happy and frolicsome suggestion! The invitations circulated, and it wassoon known that they were all to gather at the matin meal. 

"I am so sorry that her grace has retired, " said Hugo Bohun to LadySt. Aldegonde, as he fed her with bread and butter, "because she alwayslikes early breakfasts in the country. "

The sun was shining as the guests of the house retired, and sank intocouches from which it seemed they never could rise again; but, longafter this, the shouts of servants and the scuffle of carriagesintimated that the company in general were not so fortunate andexpeditious in their retirement from the scene; and the fields were allbusy, and even the towns awake, when the great body of the wearied butdelighted wassailers returned from celebrating the majority of Lothair. 

In the vast and statesmanlike programme of the festivities of the week, which had been prepared by Mr and Mrs. Putney Giles, something ofinterest and importance had been appropriated to the morrow, but it wasnecessary to erase all this; and for a simple reason--no human being onthe morrow morn even appeared--one might say, even stirred. After allthe gay tumult in which even thousands had joined, Muriel Towers onthe morrow presented a scene which only could have been equalled by thecastle in the fairy tale inhabited by the Sleeping Beauty. 

At length, about two hours after noon, bells began to sound which werenot always answered. Then a languid household prepared a meal of whichno one for a time partook, till at last a monsignore appeared, and arival Anglican or two. Then St. Aldegonde came in with a troop of menwho had been bathing in the mere, and called loudly for kidneys, whichhappened to be the only thing not at hand, as is always the case. St. Aldegonde always required kidneys when he had sat up all night andbathed. "But the odd thing is, " he said, "you never can get any thing toeat in these houses. Their infernal cooks spoil every thing. That's whyI hate staying with Bertha's people in the north at the end of the year. What I want in November is a slice of cod and a beefsteak, and by JoveI never could get them; I was obliged to come to town. If is no joke tohave to travel three hundred miles for a slice of cod and a beefsteak. "

Notwithstanding all this, however, such is the magic of custom, that bysunset civilization had resumed its reign at Muriel Towers. The partywere assembled before dinner in the saloon, and really looked as freshand bright as if the exhausting and tumultuous yesterday had neverhappened. The dinner, too, notwithstanding the criticism of St. Aldegonde, was first rate, and pleased palates not so simply fastidiousas his own. The bishop and his suite were to depart on the morrow, butthe cardinal was to remain. His eminence talked much to Mrs. Campian, bywhom, from the first, he was much struck. He was aware that she was borna Roman, and was not surprised that, having married a citizen of theUnited States, her sympathies were what are styled liberal; but thisonly stimulated his anxious resolution to accomplish her conversion, both religious and political. He recognized in her a being whoseintelligence, imagination, and grandeur of character, might be ofinvaluable service to the Church. 

In the evening Monsieur Raphael and his sister, and their colleagues, gave a representation which was extremely well done. There was notheatre at Muriel, but Apollonia had felicitously arranged a contiguoussaloon for the occasion, and, as everybody was at ease in an arm-chair, they all agreed it was preferable to a regular theatre. 

On the morrow they were to lunch with the mayor and corporation ofGrandchester, and view some of the principal factories; on the next daythe county gave a dinner to Lothair in their hall, the lord-lieutenantin the chair; on Friday there was to be a ball at Grandchester given bythe county and city united to celebrate the great local event. It waswhispered that this was to be a considerable affair. There was not anhour of the week that was not appropriated to some festive ceremony. 

It happened on the morning of Friday, the cardinal being alone withLothair, transacting some lingering business connected with theguardianship, and on his legs as he spoke, that he said: "We livein such a happy tumult here, my dear child, that I have never had anopportunity of speaking to you on one or two points which interestme and should not be uninteresting to you. I remember a pleasantmorning-walk we had in the park at Vauxe, when we began a conversationwhich we never finished. What say you to a repetition of our stroll?'Tis a lovely day, and I dare say we might escape by this window, andgain some green retreat without any one disturbing us. "

"I am quite of your eminence's mind, " said Lothair, taking up awide-awake, "and I will lead you where it is not likely we shall bedisturbed. "

So, winding their way through the pleasure-grounds, they entered by awicket a part of the park where the sunny glades soon wandered among thetall fern and wild groves of venerable oaks. 

"I sometimes feel, " said the cardinal, "that I may have been toopunctilious in avoiding conversation with you on a subject the mostinteresting and important to man. But I felt a delicacy in exerting myinfluence as a guardian on a subject my relations to which, when yourdear father appointed me to that office, were so different from thosewhich now exist. But you are now your own master; I can use no controlover you but that influence which the words of truth must alwaysexercise over an ingenuous mind. "

His eminence paused for a moment and looked at his companion; butLothair remained silent, with his eyes fixed upon the ground. 

"It has always been a source of satisfaction, I would even sayconsolation, to me, " resumed the cardinal, "to know you were a religiousman; that your disposition was reverential, which is the highest orderof temperament, and brings us nearest to the angels. But we livein times of difficulty and danger--extreme difficulty and danger; areligious disposition may suffice for youth in the tranquil hour, and hemay find, in due season, his appointed resting-place: but these are daysof imminent peril; the soul requires a sanctuary. Is yours at hand?"

The cardinal paused, and Lothair was obliged to meet a direct appeal. He said then, after a momentary hesitation: "When you last spoke tome, sir, on these grave matters, I said I was in a state of greatdespondency. My situation now is not so much despondent as perplexed. "

"And I wish you to tell me the nature of your perplexity, " replied thecardinal, "for there is no anxious embarrassment of mind which Divinetruth cannot disentangle and allay. "

"Well, " said Lothair, "I must say I am often perplexed at thedifferences which obtrude themselves between Divine truth and humanknowledge. "

"Those are inevitable, " said the cardinal. "Divine truth beingunchangeable, and human knowledge changing every century; rather, Ishould say, every generation. "

"Perhaps, instead of human knowledge, I should have said humanprogress, " rejoined Lothair. 

"Exactly, " said the cardinal, "but what is progress? Movement. But whatif it be movement in the wrong direction? What if it be a departure fromDivine truth?"

"But I cannot understand why religion should be inconsistent withcivilization, " said Lothair. 

"Religion is civilization, " said the cardinal; "the highest: it is areclamation of man from savageness by the Almighty. What the world callscivilization, as distinguished from religion, is a retrograde movement, and will ultimately lead us back to the barbarism from which we haveescaped. For instance, you talk of progress: what is the chief socialmovement of all the countries that three centuries ago separated fromthe unity of the Church of Christ? The rejection of the sacrament ofChristian matrimony. The introduction of the law of divorce, which is, in fact, only a middle term to the abolition of marriage. What doesthat mean? The extinction of the home and the household on which Godhas rested civilization. If there be no home, the child belongs to thestate, not to the parent. The state educates the child, and withoutreligion, because the state in a country of progress acknowledges noreligion. For every man is not only to think as he likes, but to writeand to speak as he likes, and to sow with both hands broadcast, where hewill, errors, heresies, and blasphemies, without any authority on earthto restrain the scattering of this seed of universal desolation. Andthis system, which would substitute for domestic sentiment and Divinebelief the unlimited and licentious action of human intellect and humanwill, is called progress. What is it but a revolt against God?"

"I am sure I wish there were only one Church and one religion, " saidLothair. 

"There is only one Church and only one religion, " said the cardinal;"all other forms and phrases are mere phantasms, without root, orsubstance, or coherency. Look at that unhappy Germany, once so proudof its Reformation. What they call the leading journal tells us to-day, that it is a question there whether four-fifths or three-fourths of thepopulation believe in Christianity. Some portion of it has alreadygone back, I understand, to Number Nip. Look at this unfortunate land, divided, subdivided, parcelled out in infinite schism, with new oraclesevery day, and each more distinguished for the narrowness of hisintellect or the loudness of his lungs; once the land of saints andscholars, and people in pious pilgrimages, and finding always solace andsupport in the divine offices of an ever-present Church, which were atrue though a faint type of the beautiful future that awaited man. Why, only three centuries of this rebellion against the Most High haveproduced throughout the world, on the subject the most important thatman should possess a clear, firm faith, an anarchy of opinion, throwingout every monstrous and fantastic form, from a caricature of the Greekphilosophy to a revival of fetichism. "

"It is a chaos, " said Lothair, with a sigh. 

"From which I wish to save you, " said the cardinal, with some eagerness. "This is not a time to hesitate. You must be for God, or for Antichrist. The Church calls upon her children. "

"I am not unfaithful to the Church, " said Lothair, "which was the Churchof my fathers. "

"The Church of England, " said the cardinal. "It was mine. I think of itever with tenderness and pity. Parliament made the Church of England, and Parliament will unmake the Church of England. The Church of Englandis not the Church of the English. Its fate is sealed. It will soonbecome a sect, and all sects are fantastic. It will adopt new dogmas, or it will abjure old ones; any thing to distinguish it from thenon-conforming herd in which, nevertheless, it will be its fate tomerge. The only consoling hope is that, when it falls, many of itschildren, by the aid of the Blessed Virgin, may return to Christ. "

"What I regret, sir, " said Lothair, "is that the Church of Rome shouldhave placed itself in antagonism with political liberty. This adds tothe difficulties which the religious cause has to encounter; for itseems impossible to deny that political freedom is now the sovereignpassion of communities. "

"I cannot admit, " replied the cardinal, "that the Church is inantagonism with political freedom. On the contrary, in my opinion, therecan be no political freedom which is not founded on Divine authority;otherwise it can be at the best but a specious phantom of licenseinevitably terminating in anarchy. The rights and liberties of thepeople of Ireland have no advocates except the Church; because, there, political freedom is founded on Divine authority; but if you mean bypolitical freedom the schemes of the illuminati and the freemasons, which perpetually torture the Continent, all the dark conspiracies ofthe secret societies, there, I admit, the Church is in antagonismwith such aspirations after liberty; those aspirations, in fact, areblasphemy and plunder; and, if the Church were to be destroyed, Europewould be divided between the atheist and the communist. "

There was a pause; the conversation had unexpectedly arrived at a pointwhere neither party cared to pursue it. Lothair felt he had said enough;the cardinal was disappointed with what Lothair had said. His eminencefelt that his late ward was not in that ripe state of probation which hehad fondly anticipated; but, being a man not only of vivid perception, but also of fertile resource, while he seemed to close the presentconversation, he almost immediately pursued his object by anothercombination of means. Noticing an effect of scenery which pleasedhim, reminded him of Styria, and so on, he suddenly said: "You shouldtravel. "

"Well, Bertram wants me to go to Egypt with him, " said Lothair. 

"A most interesting country, " said the cardinal, "and well worthvisiting. It is astonishing what a good guide old Herodotus still is inthat land! But you should know something of Europe before you go there. Egypt is rather a land to end with. A young man should visit the chiefcapitals of Europe, especially the seats of learning and the arts. If myadvice were asked by a young man who contemplated travelling on a properscale, I should say begin with Rome. Almost all that Europe containsis derived from Rome. It is always best to go to the fountain-head, tostudy the original. The society too, there, is delightful; I know noneequal to it. That, if you please, is civilization--pious and refined. And the people--all so gifted and so good--so kind, so orderly, socharitable, so truly virtuous. I believe the Roman people to be the bestpeople that ever lived, and this too while the secret societies havetheir foreign agents in every quarter, trying to corrupt them, butalways in vain. If an act of political violence occurs, you may be sureit is confined entirely to foreigners. "

"Our friends the St. Jeromes are going to Rome, " said Lothair. 

"Well, and that would be pleasant for you. Think seriously of this, mydear, young friend. I could be of some little service to you if you goto Rome, which, after all, every man ought to do. I could put you, inthe way of easily becoming acquainted with all the right people, whowould take care that you saw Rome with profit and advantage. "

Just at this moment, in a winding glade, they were met abruptly by athird person. All seemed rather to start at the sudden rencounter; andthen Lothair eagerly advanced and welcomed the stranger with a profferedhand. 

"This is a most unexpected, but to me most agreeable, meeting, " he said. "You must now be my guest. "

"That would be a great honor, " said the stranger, "but one I cannotenjoy. I had to wait at the station a couple of hours or so for mytrain, and they told me if I strolled here I. Should find some prettycountry. I have been so pleased with it, that I fear I have strolled toolong, and I literally have not an instant at my command, " and he hurriedaway. 

"Who is that person?" asked the cardinal with some agitation. 

"I have not the slightest idea, " said Lothair. "All I know is, he oncesaved my life. "

"And all I know is, " said the cardinal, "he once threatened mine. "

"Strange!" said Lothair, and then he rapidly recounted to the cardinalhis adventure at the Fenian meeting. 

"Strange!" echoed his eminence. 

CHAPTER 49

Mrs. Campian did not appear at luncheon, which was observed but notnoticed. Afterward, while Lothair was making some arrangements for theamusement of his guests, and contriving that they should fit in withthe chief incident of the day, which was the banquet given to him bythe county, and which it was settled the ladies were not to attend, thecolonel took him aside and said, "I do not think that Theodora will careto go out to-day. "

"She is not unwell, I hope?"

"Not exactly--but she has had some news, some news of some friends, which has disturbed her. And, if you will excuse me, I will request yourpermission not to attend the dinner to-day, which I had hoped to havehad the honor of doing. But I think our plans must be changed a little. I almost think we shall not go to Scotland after all. "

"There is not the slightest necessity for your going to the dinner. Youwill have plenty to keep you in countenance at home. Lord St. Aldegondeis not going, nor I fancy any of them. I shall take the duke with me andLord Culloden, and, if you do not go, I shall take Mr. Putney Giles. The lord-lieutenant will meet us there. I am sorry about Mrs. Campian, because I know she is not ever put out by little things. May I not seeher in the course of the day? I should be very sorry that the day shouldpass over without seeing her. "

"Oh! I dare say she will see you in the course of the day, before yougo. "

"When she likes. I shall not go out to-day; I shall keep in my rooms, always at her commands. Between ourselves, I shall not be sorry to havea quiet morning and collect my ideas a little. Speech-making is a newthing for me. I wish you would tell me what to say to the county. "

Lothair had appropriated to the Campians one of the most convenient andcomplete apartments in the castle. It consisted of four chambers, one ofthem a saloon which had been fitted up for his mother when she married;a pretty saloon, hung with pale-green silk, and portraits and scenesinlaid by Vanloo and Boucher. It was rather late in the afternoon whenLothair received a message from Theodora in reply to the wish that hehad expressed of seeing her. 

When he entered the room, she was not seated; her countenance wasserious. She advanced, and thanked him for wishing to see her, andregretted she could not receive him at an earlier hour. "I fear itmay have inconvenienced you, " she added; "but my mind has been muchdisturbed, and too agitated for conversation. "

"Even now I may be an intruder?"

"No, it is past; on the contrary, I wish to speak to you; indeed, youare the only person with whom I could speak, " and she sat down. 

Her countenance, which was unusually pale when he entered, becameflushed. "It is not a subject for the festive hour of your life, " shesaid, "but I cannot resist my fate. "

"Your fate must always interest me, " murmured Lothair. 

"Yes; but my fate is the fate of ages and of nations, " said Theodora, throwing up her head with that tumult of the brow which he had oncebefore noticed. "Amid the tortures of my spirit at this moment, not theleast is that there is only one person I can appeal to, and he is one towhom I have no right to make that appeal. "

"If I be that person, " said Lothair, "you have every right, for I amdevoted to you. "

"Yes; but it is not personal devotion that is the qualification needed. It is not sympathy with me that would authorize such an appeal. Itmust be sympathy with a cause, and a cause for which, I fear, you donot--perhaps I should say you cannot--feel. "

"Why?" said Lothair. 

"Why should you feel for my fallen country, who are the proudestcitizen of the proudest of lands? Why should you feel for its debasingthraldom--you who, in the religious mystification of man, have, atleast, the noble privilege of being a Protestant?"

"You speak of Rome?"

"Yes, of the only thought I have, or ever had. I speak of that countrywhich first impressed upon the world a general and enduring form ofmasculine virtue; the land of liberty, and law, and eloquence, andmilitary genius, now garrisoned by monks, and governed by a dotingpriest. "

"Everybody must be interested about Rome, " said Lothair. "Rome is thecountry of the world, and even the doting priest you talk of boasts oftwo hundred millions of subjects. "

"If he were at Avignon again, I should not care for his boasts, " saidTheodora. "I do not grudge him his spiritual subjects; I am content toleave his superstition to Time. Time is no longer slow; his scythe mowsquickly in this age. But when his debasing creeds are palmed off on manby the authority of our glorious capitol, and the slavery of the humanmind is schemed and carried on in the forum, then, if there be realRoman blood left--and I thank my Creator there is much--it is time forit to mount and move, " and she rose and walked up and down the room. 

"You have had news from Rome?" said Lothair. 

"I have had news from Rome, " she replied, speaking slowly in a deepvoice; and there was a pause. 

Then Lothair said: "When you have alluded to these matters before, younever spoke of them in a sanguine spirit. "

"I have seen the cause triumph, " said Theodora; "the sacred cause oftruth, of justice, of national honor. I have sat at the feet of thetriumvirate of the Roman Republic; men who, for virtue, and genius, andwarlike skill and valor, and every quality that exalts man, were neversurpassed in the olden time--no, not by the Catos and the Scipios; andI have seen the blood of my own race poured, like a rich vintage, on thevictorious Roman soil; my father fell, who, in stature and in mien, wasa god; and, since then, my beautiful brothers, with shapes to enshrinein temples; and I have smiled amid the slaughter of my race, for Ibelieved that Rome was free; and yet all this vanished. How, then, whenwe talked, could I be sanguine?"

"And yet you are sanguine now?" said Lothair, with a scrutinizingglance; and he rose and joined her, leaning slightly on themantel-piece. 

"There was only one event that could secure the success of our efforts, "said Theodora, "and that event was so improbable, that I had longrejected it from calculation. It has happened, and Rome calls upon me toact. "

"The Papalini are strong, " continued Theodora, after a pause; "they havebeen long preparing for the French evacuation; they have a considerableand disciplined force of janizaries, a powerful artillery, the strongplaces of the city. The result of a rising, under such circumstances, might be more than doubtful; if unsuccessful, to us it would bedisastrous. It is necessary that the Roman States should be invaded, andthe papal army must then quit their capital. We have no fear of them inthe field. Yes, " she added, with energy, "we could sweep them from theface of the earth!"

"But the army of Italy, " said Lothair, "will that be inert?"

"There it is, " said Theodora. "That has been our stumbling-block. I havealways known that, if ever the French quitted Rome, it would be on theunderstanding that the house of Savoy should inherit the noble officeof securing our servitude. He in whom I alone confide would never creditthis; but my information, in this respect, was authentic. However, itis no longer necessary to discuss the question. News has come, and in nouncertain shape, that whatever may have been the understanding, underno circumstances will the Italian army enter the Roman state. We muststrike, therefore, and Rome will be free. But how am I to strike? Wehave neither money nor arms. We have only men. I can give them no more, because I have already given them every thing, except my life, whichis always theirs. As for my husband, who, I may say, wedded me on thebattle-field, so fax as wealth was concerned, he was then a prince amongprinces, and would pour forth his treasure, and his life, with equaleagerness. But things have changed since Aspromonte. The struggle inhis own country has entirely deprived him of revenues as great as anyforfeited by their Italian princelings. In fact, it is only by a chancethat he is independent. Had it not been for an excellent man, one ofyour great English merchants, who was his agent here, and managed hisaffairs, we should have been penniless. His judicious investments ofthe superfluity of our income, which, at the time, my husband never evennoticed, have secured for Colonel Campian the means of that decorouslife which he appreciates--but no more. As for myself, theseconsiderations are nothing. I will not say I should be insensible to arefined life with refined companions, if the spirit were content and theheart serene; but I never could fully realize the abstract idea of whatthey call wealth; I never could look upon it except as a means toan end, and my end has generally been military material. Perhaps thevicissitudes of my life have made me insensible to what are calledreverses of fortune, for, when a child, I remember sleeping on themoonlit flags of Paris, with no pillow except my tambourine; and Iremember it not without delight. Let us sit down. I feel I am talking inan excited, injudicious, egotistical, rhapsodical, manner. I thought Iwas calm, and I meant to have been clear. But the fact is, I am ashamedof myself. I am doing a wrong thing, and in a wrong manner. But I havehad a sleepless night, and a day of brooding thought. I meant once tohave asked you to help me, and now I feel that you are the last personto whom I ought to appeal. "

"In that you are in error, " said Lothair, rising and taking her handwith an expression of much gravity; "I am the right person for you toappeal to--the only person. "

"Nay, " said Theodora, and she shook her head. 

"For I owe to you a debt that I never can repay, " continued Lothair. "Had it not been for you, I should have remained what I was when wefirst met, a prejudiced, narrow-minded being, with contracted sympathiesand false knowledge, wasting my life on obsolete trifles, and utterlyinsensible to the privilege of living in this wondrous age of change andprogress. Why, had it not been for you I should have at this very momentbeen lavishing my fortune on an ecclesiastical toy, which I think ofwith a blush. There may be--doubtless there are--opinions in whichwe may not agree; but in our love of truth and justice there is nodifference, dearest lady. No; though you must have felt that I amnot--that no one could be--insensible to your beauty and infinitecharms, still it is your consummate character that has justly fascinatedmy thought and heart; and I have long resolved, were I permitted, todevote to you my fortune and my life. "

CHAPTER 50

The month of September was considerably advanced when a cab, evidentlyfrom its luggage fresh from the railway, entered the court-yard ofHexham House, of which the shuttered windows indicated the absence ofits master, the cardinal, then in Italy. But it was evident that theperson who had arrived was expected, for before his servant could ringthe hall-bell the door opened, and a grave-looking domestic advancedwith much deference, and awaited the presence of no less a personagethan Monsignore Berwick. 

"We have had a rough passage, good Clifford, " said the great man, alighting, "but I see you duly received my telegram. You are alwaysready. "

"I hope my lord will find it not uncomfortable, " said Clifford. "I haveprepared the little suite which you mentioned, and have been carefulthat there should be no outward sign of any one having arrived. "

"And now, " said the monsignore, stopping for a moment in the ball, "hereis a letter which must be instantly delivered, and by a trusty hand, "and he gave it to Mr. Clifford, who, looking at the direction, noddedhis head and said, "By no one but myself. I will show my lord to hisrooms and depart with this instantly. "

"And bring back a reply, " added the monsignore. 

The well-lit room, the cheerful fire, the judicious refection ona side-table, were all circumstances which usually would have beenagreeable to a wearied traveller, but Monsignore Berwick seemed littleto regard them. Though a man in general superior to care, and master ofthought, his countenance was troubled and pensive even to dejection. 

"Even the winds and waves are against us, " he exclaimed, too restlessto be seated, and walking up and down the room with his arms behindhis back. "That such a struggle should fall to my lot! Why was I not aminister in the days of the Gregorys, the Innocents, even the Leos! Butthis is craven. There should be inspiration in peril, and the greatestwhere peril is extreme. I am a little upset--with travel and the voyageand those telegrams not being answered. The good Clifford was wiselyprovident, " and he approached the table and took one glass of wine. "Good! One must never despair in such a cause. And if the worse happens, it has happened before--and what then? Suppose Avignon over again, oreven Gaeta, or even Paris? So long as we never relinquish our title tothe Eternal City we shall be eternal. But then, some say, our enemiesbefore were the sovereigns; now it is the people. Is it so? True we havevanquished kings, and baffled emperors--but the French Republic and theRoman Republic have alike reigned and ruled in the Vatican, and whereare they? We have lost provinces, but we have also gained them. We havetwelve millions of subjects in the United States of America, and theywill increase like the sands of the sea. Still it is a hideous thing tohave come back, as it were, to the days of the Constable of Bourbon, andto be contemplating the siege of the Holy See, and massacre and pillageand ineffable horrors! The papacy may survive such calamities, as itundoubtedly will, but I shall scarcely figure in history if, under myinfluence, such visitations should accrue. If I had only to deal withmen, I would not admit of failure; but when your antagonists are humanthoughts, represented by invisible powers, there is something that mightbaffle a Machiavel and appall a Borgia. "

While he was meditating in this vein the door opened, and Mr. Clifford, with some hasty action and speaking rapidly, exclaimed: "He said hewould be here sooner than myself. His carriage was at the door. I droveback as soon as possible--and indeed I hear something now in the court, "and he disappeared. 

It was only to usher in, almost immediately, a stately personage in anevening dress, and wearing a decoration of a high class, who saluted themonsignore with great cordiality. 

"I am engaged to dine with the Prussian ambassador, who has been obligedto come to town to receive a prince of the blood who is visiting thedockyards here; but I thought you might be later than you expected, andI ordered my carriage to be in waiting, so that we have a good littlehour--and I can come on to you again afterward, if that will not do. "

"A little hour with us is a long hour with other people, " said themonsignore, "because we are friends and can speak without windings. Youare a true friend to the Holy See; you have proved it. We are in greattrouble and need of aid. "

"I hear that things are not altogether as we could wish, " said thegentleman in an evening dress; "but I hope, and should think, onlyannoyances. "

"Dangers, " said Berwick, "and great. "

"How so?"

"Well, we have invasion threatening us without and insurrection within, "said Berwick. "We might, though it is doubtful, successfully encounterone of these perils, but their united action must be fatal. "

"All this has come suddenly, " said the gentleman. "In the summer youhad no fear, and our people wrote to us that we might be perfectlytranquil. "

"Just so, " said Berwick. "If we had met a month ago, I should havetold you the same thing. A month ago the revolution seemed lifeless, penniless; without a future, without a resource. They had no money, nocredit, no men. At present, quietly but regularly, they are assemblingby thousands on our frontiers; thy have to our knowledge received twolarge consignments of small arms, and apparently have unlimited creditwith the trade, both in Birmingham and Li ge; they have even artillery;every thing is paid for in coin or in good bills--and, worst of all, they have a man, the most consummate soldier in Europe. I thought hewas at New York, and was in hopes he would never have recrossed theAtlantic--but I know that he passed through Florence a fortnight ago, and I have seen a man who says he spoke to him at Narni. "

"The Italian government must stop all this, " said the gentleman. 

"They do not stop it, " said Berwick. "The government of his holinesshas made every representation to them: we have placed in their handsindubitable evidence of the illegal proceedings that are taking placeand of the internal dangers we experience in consequence of theirexterior movements. But they do nothing: it is even believed that theroyal troops are joining the insurgents, and Garibaldi is spouting withimpunity in every balcony of Florence. "

"You may depend upon it that our government is making strongrepresentations to the government of Florence. "

"I come from Paris and elsewhere, " said Berwick, with animation andperhaps a degree of impatience. "I have seen everybody there, and I haveheard every thing. It is not representations that are wanted from yourgovernment; it is something of a different kind. "

"But if you have seen everybody at Paris and heard every thing, how canI help you?"

"By acting upon the government here. A word from you to the Englishminister would have great weight at this juncture. Queen Victoria isinterested in the maintenance of the papal throne. Her Catholic subjectsare counted by millions. The influence of his holiness has been hithertoexercised against the Fenians. France would interfere, if she was surethe step would not be disapproved by England. "

"Interfere!" said the gentleman. "Our return to Rome almost beforewe have paid our laundresses' bills in the Eternal City would be adiplomatic scandal. "

"A diplomatic scandal would be preferable to a European revolution. "

"Suppose we were to have both?" and the gentleman drew his chair nearthe fire. 

"I am convinced that a want of firmness now, " said Berwick, "would leadto inconceivable calamities for all of us. "

"Let us understand each other, my very dear friend Berwick, " said hiscompanion, and he threw his arm over the back of his chair andlooked the Roman full in his face. "You say you have been at Paris andelsewhere, and have seen everybody and heard every thing?"

"Yes, yes. "

"Something has happened to us also during the last month, and asunexpectedly as to yourselves. "

"The secret societies? Yes, he spoke to me on that very point, andfully. 'Tis strange, but is only, in my opinion, an additional argumentin favor of crushing the evil influence. "

"Well, that he must decide. But the facts are startling. A month ago thesecret societies in France were only a name; they existed only in thememory of the police, and almost as a tradition. At present we know thatthey are in complete organization, and what is most strange is that theprefects write they have information that the Mary-Anne associations, which are essentially republican and are scattered about the provinces, are all revived, and are astir. Mary-Anne, as you know, was the red namefor the republic years ago, and there always was a sort of myth thatthese societies had been founded by a woman. Of course that is allnonsense, but they keep it up; it affects the public imagination, andmy government has undoubted evidence that the word of command has goneround to all these societies that Mary-Anne has; returned and will issueher orders, which must be obeyed. "

"The Church is stronger, and especially in the provinces, than theMary-Anne societies, " said Berwick. 

"I hope so, " said his friend; "but you see, my dear monsignore, thequestion with us is not so simple as you put It. The secret societieswill not tolerate another Roman interference, to say nothing of thediplomatic hubbub, which we might, if necessary, defy; but what if, taking advantage of the general indignation, your new kingdom of Italymay seize the golden opportunity of making a popular reputation, anddeclare herself the champion of national independence against theinterference of the foreigner? My friend, we tread on delicate ground. "

"If Rome falls, not an existing dynasty in Europe will survive fiveyears, " said Berwick. 

"It may be so, " said his companion, but with no expression ofincredulity. "You know how consistently and anxiously I have alwayslabored to support the authority of the Holy See, and to maintain itsterritorial position as the guarantee of its independence; but Fate hasdecided against us. I cannot indulge in the belief that his holinesswill ever regain his lost provinces; a capital without a country is anapparent anomaly, which I fear will always embarrass us. We can treatthe possession as the capital of Christendom, but, alas! all the worldare not as good Christians as ourselves, and Christendom is a countryno longer marked out in the map of the world. I wish, " continued thegentleman in a tone almost coaxing--"I wish we could devise some planwhich, humanly speaking, would secure to his holiness the possessionof his holy throne forever. I wish I could induce you to consider morefavorably that suggestion, that his holiness should content himself withthe ancient city, and, in possession of St. Peter's and the Vatican, leave the rest of, Rome to the vulgar cares and the mundane anxietiesof the transient generation. Yes, " he added with energy, "if, my dearBerwick, you could see your way to this, or something like this, I thinkeven now and at once, I could venture to undertake that the emperor, mymaster, would soon put an end to all these disturbances and dangers, andthat--"

"Non possumus, " said Berwick, sternly stopping him; "sooner than thatAttila, the Constable of Bourbon, or the blasphemous orgies of the RedRepublic! After all, it is the Church against the secret societies. They are the only two strong things in Europe, and will survive kings, emperors, or parliaments. "

At this moment there was a tap at the door, and, bidden to enter, Mr. Clifford presented himself with a sealed paper, for the gentleman inevening dress. "Your secretary, sir, brought this, which he said must begiven you before you went to the ambassador. "

"'Tis well, " said the gentleman, and he rose, and with a countenance ofsome excitement read the paper, which contained a telegram; and then hesaid: "This, I think, will help us out of our immediate difficulties, my dear monsignore. Rattazzi has behaved like a man of sense, and hasarrested Garibaldi. But you do not seem, my friend, as pleased as Ishould have anticipated. "

"Garibaldi has been arrested before, " said Berwick. 

"Well, well, I am hopeful; but I must go to my dinner. I will see youagain tomorrow. "

CHAPTER 51

The continuous gathering of what, in popular language, were styled theGaribaldi Volunteers, on the southern border of the papal territoryin the autumn of 1867, was not the only or perhaps the greatest dangerwhich then threatened the Holy See, though the one which most attractedits alarmed attention. The considerable numbers in which this assemblagewas suddenly occurring; the fact that the son of the Liberator hadalready taken its command, and only as the precursor of his formidablesire; the accredited rumor that Ghirelli at the head of a purely Romanlegion was daily expected to join the frontier force; that Nicotera wasstirring in the old Neapolitan kingdom, while the Liberator himselfat Florence and in other parts of Tuscany was even ostentatiously, certainly with impunity, preaching the new crusade and using all hisirresistible influence with the populace to excite their sympathies andto stimulate their energy, might well justify the extreme apprehensionof the court of Rome. And yet dangers at least equal, and almost asclose, were at the same time preparing unnoticed and unknown. 

In the mountainous range between Fiascone and Viterbo, contiguous tothe sea, is a valley surrounded by chains of steep and barren hills, butwhich is watered by a torrent scarcely dry, even in summer; so thatthe valley itself, which is not inconsiderable in its breadth, is neverwithout verdure, while almost a forest of brushwood formed of shrubs, which in England we should consider rare, bounds the natural turf andascends sometimes to no inconsiderable height the nearest hills. 

Into this valley, toward the middle of September, there defiled oneafternoon through a narrow pass a band of about fifty men, all armed, and conducting a cavalcade or rather a caravan of mules laden withmunitions of war and other stores. When they had gained the centreof the valley and a general halt was accomplished, their commander, accompanied by one who was apparently an officer, surveyed all thepoints of the locality; and, when their companions had rested andrefreshed themselves, they gave the necessary orders for the preparationof a camp. The turf already afforded a sufficient area for their presentwants, but it was announced that on the morrow they must commenceclearing the brushwood. In the mean time, one of the liveliest scenesof military life soon rapidly developed itself: the canvas houseswere pitched, the sentries appointed, the videttes established. Thecommissariat was limited to bread and olives, and generally the runningstream, varied sometimes by coffee, and always consoled by tobacco. 

On the third day, amid their cheerful though by no means light labors, asecond caravan arrived, evidently expected and heartily welcomed. Then, in another eight-and-forty hours, smaller bodies of men seemed to dropdown from the hills, generally without stores, but always armed. Thenmen came from neighboring islands in open boats, and one morning aconsiderable detachment crossed the water from Corsica. So that at theend of a week or ten days there was an armed force of several hundredmen in this once silent valley, now a scene of constant stir andcontinual animation, for some one or something was always arriving, andfrom every quarter; men and arms and stores crept in from every wildpass of the mountains and every little rocky harbor of the coast. 

About this time, while the officer in command was reviewing aconsiderable portion of the troops, the rest laboring in still clearingthe brushwood and establishing the many works incidental to a camp, halfa dozen horsemen were seen descending the mountain-pass by which theoriginal body had entered the valley. A scout had preceded them, andthe troops with enthusiasm awaited the arrival of that leader, a messagefrom whose magic name had summoned them to this secluded rendezvous frommany a distant state and city. Unruffled, but with an inspiring fire inhis pleased keen eye, that general answered their devoted salute, whomhitherto we have known by his travelling name of Captain Bruges. 

It was only toward the end of the preceding month that he had resolvedto take the field; but the organization of the secret societies isso complete that he knew he could always almost instantly secure theassembling of a picked force in a particular place. The telegraphcirculated its mystic messages to every part of France and Italy andBelgium, and to some old friends not so conveniently at hand, but who hedoubted not would arrive in due time for action. He himself had employedthe interval in forwarding all necessary supplies, and he had passedthrough Florence in order that he might confer with the great spirit ofItalian movement and plan with him the impending campaign. 

After he had passed in review the troops, the general, with the officersof his staff who had accompanied him, visited on foot every part ofthe camp. Several of the men he recognized by name; to all of them headdressed some inspiring word; a memory of combats in which they hadfought together, or happy allusions to adventures if romantic peril;some question which indicated that local knowledge which is magicalfor those who are away from home; mixed with all this, sharp, clearinquiries as to the business of the hour, which proved the master ofdetail, severe in discipline, but never deficient in sympathy for histroops. 

After sunset, enveloped in their cloaks, the general and his companions, the party increased by the officers who had been in command previous tohis arrival, smoked their cigars round the camp-fire. 

"Well, Sarano, " said the general, "I will look over your muster-rollto-morrow, but I should suppose I may count on a thousand rifles or so. I want three, and we shall get them. The great man would have suppliedthem me at once, but I will not have boys. He must send those on toMenotti. I told him: 'I am not a man of genius; I do not pretend toconquer kingdoms with boys. Give me old soldiers, men who have serveda couple of campaigns, and been seasoned with four-and-twenty months ofcamp-life, and I will not disgrace you or myself. '"

"We have had no news from the other place for a long time, " said Sarano. "How is it?"

"Well enough. They are in the mountains about Nerola, in a position notvery unlike this; numerically strong, for Nicotera has joined them, andGhirelli with the Roman Legion is at hand. They must be quiet till thegreat man joins them; I am told they are restless. There has been toomuch noise about the whole business. Had they been as mum as you havebeen, we should not have had all these representations from France andthese threatened difficulties from that quarter. The Papalini would havecomplained and remonstrated, and Rattazzi could have conscientiouslyassured the people at Paris that they were dealing with exaggerationsand bugbears; the very existence of the frontier force would have becomea controversy, and, while the newspapers were proving it was a myth, weshould have been in the Vatican. "

"And when shall we be there, general?"

"I do not want to move for a month. By that time I shall have twothousand five hundred or three thousand of my old comrades, and thegreat man will have put his boys in trim. Both bodies must leave theirmountains at the same time, join in the open country, and march toRome. "

As the night advanced, several of the party rose and left thecamp-fire--some to their tents, some to their duties. Two of the staffremained with the general. 

"I am disappointed and uneasy that we have not heard from Paris, " saidone of them. 

"I am disappointed, " said the general, "but not uneasy; she never makesa mistake. "

"The risk was too great, " rejoined the speaker in a depressed tone. 

"I do not see that, " said the general. "What is the risk? Who couldpossibly suspect the lady's maid of the Princess of Tivoli! I am toldthat the princess has become quite a favorite at the Tuileries. "

"They say that the police is not so well informed as it used to be;nevertheless, I confess I should be much happier were she sitting roundthis camp-fire. "

"Courage!" said the general. "I do not believe in many things, but I dobelieve in the divine Theodora. What say you, Captain Muriel? I hope youare not offended by my criticism of young soldiers. You are the youngestin our band, but you have good military stuff in you, and will be soonseasoned. "

"I feel I serve under a master of the art, " replied Lothair, "and willnot take the gloomy view of Colonel Campian about our best friend, though I share all his disappointment. It seems to me that detection isimpossible. I am sure that I could not have recognized her when I handedthe princess into her carriage. "

"The step was absolutely necessary, " said the general; "no one could betrusted but herself--no other person has the influence. All our dangeris from France. The Italian troops will never cross the frontier toattack us, rest assured of that. I have proof of it. And it is mostdifficult, almost impossible, for the French to return. There neverwould have been an idea of such a step, if there had been a little morediscretion at Florence, less of those manifestoes and speeches frombalconies. But we must not criticise one who is above criticism. Withouthim we could do nothing, and when he stamps his foot men rise from theearth. I will go the rounds; come with me, Captain Muriel. Colonel, Iorder you to your tent; you are a veteran--the only one among us, atleast on the staff, who was wounded at Aspromonte. "

CHAPTER 52

The life of Lothair had been so strange and exciting since he quittedMuriel Towers that he had found little time for that reflection in whichhe was once so prone to indulge. Perhaps he shrank from it. If he wantedan easy distraction from self--criticism it may be a convenient refugefrom the scruples, or even the pangs, of conscience--it was profuselysupplied by the startling affairs of which he formed a part, thesingular characters with whom he was placed in contact, the risk andresponsibility which seemed suddenly to have encompassed him with theirever-stimulating influence, and, lastly, by the novelty of foreigntravel, which, even under ordinary circumstances, has a tendency torouse and stir up even ordinary men. 

So long as Theodora was his companion in their counsels, and he waslistening to her deep plans and daring suggestions, enforced by thatcalm enthusiasm which was not the least powerful of her commandingspells, it is not perhaps surprising that he should have yielded withoutan effort to her bewitching ascendancy. But when they had separated, andshe had embarked on that perilous enterprise of personally conferringwith the chiefs of those secret societies of France, which had beenfancifully baptized by her popular name, and had nurtured her traditionas a religious faith, it might have been supposed that Lothair, left tohimself, might have recurred to the earlier sentiments of his youth. Buthe was not left to himself. He was left with her injunctions, andthe spirit of the oracle, though the divinity was no longer visible, pervaded his mind and life. 

Lothair was to accompany the general as one of his aides-de-camp, andhe was to meet Theodora again on what was contemplated as the fieldof memorable actions. Theodora had wisely calculated on the influence, beneficial in her view, which the character of a man like the generalwould exercise over Lothair. This consummate military leader, though hehad pursued a daring career, and was a man of strong convictions, wasdistinguished by an almost unerring judgment, and a mastery of methodrarely surpassed. Though he was without imagination or sentiment, therewere occasions on which he had shown he was not deficient in a becomingsympathy, and he had a rapid and correct perception of character. He wasa thoroughly honest man, and, in the course of a life of great trial andvicissitude, even envenomed foes had never impeached his pure integrity. For the rest, he was unselfish, but severe in discipline, inflexible, and even ruthless in the fulfilment of his purpose. A certain simplicityof speech and conduct, and a disinterestedness which, even in littlethings, was constantly exhibiting itself, gave to his character evencharm, and rendered personal intercourse with him highly agreeable. 

In the countless arrangements which had to be made, Lothair was neverwearied in recognizing and admiring the prescience and precision of hischief; and when the day had died, and for a moment they had ceased fromtheir labors, or were travelling together, often through the night, Lothair found in the conversation of his companion, artless andunrestrained, a wonderful fund of knowledge both of men and things, andthat, too, in very different climes and countries. 

The camp in the Apennines was not favorable to useless reverie. Lothairfound unceasing and deeply-interesting occupation in his numerous andnovel duties; and, if his thoughts for a moment wandered beyond thebarren peaks around him, they were attracted and engrossed by onesubject--and that was, naturally, Theodora. From her they hadheard nothing since her departure, except a mysterious, though notdiscouraging, telegram which was given to them by Colonel Campian whenhe had joined them at Florence. It was difficult not to feel anxiousabout her, though the general would never admit the possibility of herpersonal danger. 

In this state of affairs, a week having elapsed since his arrival atthe camp, Lothair, who had been visiting the outposts, was summoned onemorning by an orderly to the tent of the general. That personage wason his legs when Lothair entered it, and was dictating to an officerwriting at a table. 

"You ought to know my military secretary, " said the general, as Lothairentered, "and therefore I will introduce you. "

Lothair was commencing a suitable reverence of recognition as thesecretary raised his head to receive it, when he suddenly stopped, changed color, and for a moment seemed to lose himself, and thenmurmured, "Is it possible?"

It was indeed Theodora: clothed in male attire, she seemed a stripling. 

"Quite possible, " she said, "and all is well. But I found it a longerbusiness than I had counted on. You see, there are so many new personswho knew me only by tradition, but with whom it was necessary I shouldpersonally confer. And I had more difficulty, just now, in gettingthrough Florence than I had anticipated. The Papalini and the Frenchare both worrying our allies in that city about the gathering on thesouthern frontier, and there is a sort of examination, true or false, Iwill not aver, of all who depart. However, I managed to pass with somesoldiers' wives who were carrying fruit as far as Narni, and there I metan old comrade of Aspromonte, who is a custom-officer now, but trueto the good cause, and he, and his daughter, who is with me, helped methrough every thing, and so I am with my dear friends again. "

After some slight conversation in this vein, Theodora entered into adetailed narrative of her proceedings, and gave to them her views of thecondition of affairs. 

"By one thing, above all others, " she said, "I am impressed, and thatis, the unprecedented efforts which Rome is making to obtain the returnof the French. There never was such influence exercised, such distinctoffers made, such prospects intimated. You may prepare yourself for anything; a papal coronation, a family pontiff--I could hardly say a Kingof Rome, though he has been reminded of that royal fact. Our friendshave acted with equal energy and with perfect temper. The heads of thesocieties have met in council, and resolved that, if France will refuseto interfere, no domestic disturbance shall be attempted during thisreign, and they have communicated this resolution to headquarters. Hetrusts them; he knows they are honest men. They did something like thisbefore the Italian War, when he hesitated about heading the army fromthe fear of domestic revolution. Anxious to recover the freedom ofItaly, they apprized him that, if he personally entered the field, they would undertake to insure tranquillity at home. The engagement wasscrupulously fulfilled. When I left Paris all looked well, but affairsrequire the utmost vigilance and courage. It is a mighty struggle; itis a struggle between the Church and the secret societies; and it is adeath-struggle. "

CHAPTER 53

During the week that elapsed after the arrival of Theodora at the camp, many recruits, and considerable supplies of military stores, reachedthe valley. Theodora really acted as secretary to the general, and herlabors were not light. Though Lothair was frequently in her presence, they were, never, or rarely, alone, and, when they conversed together, her talk was of details. The scouts, too, had brought information, whichmight have been expected, that their rendezvous was no longer a secretat Rome. The garrison of the neighboring town of Viterbo had, therefore, been increased, and there was even the commencement of an intrenchedcamp in the vicinity of that place, to be garrisoned by a detachmentof the legion of Antibes and other good troops, so that any junctionbetween the general and Garibaldi, if contemplated, should not be easilyeffected. 

In the mean time, the life of the camp was busy. The daily drill andexercise of two thousand men was not a slight affair, and the constantchanges in orders which the arrival of bodies of recruits occasioned, rendered this primary duty more difficult; the office of quartermasterrequired the utmost resource and temper; the commissariat, which, fromthe nature of the country, could depend little upon forage, demandedextreme husbandry and forbearance. But, perhaps, no labors were moresevere than those of the armorers, the clink of whose instrumentsresounded unceasingly in the valley. And yet such is the magic ofmethod, when directed by a master-mind, that the whole went on with theregularity and precision of machinery. More than two thousand armedmen, all of whom had been accustomed to an irregular, some to a lawless, life, were as docile as children; animated, in general, by what theydeemed a sacred cause, and led by a chief whom they universally alikeadored and feared. 

Among these wild warriors, Theodora, delicate and fragile, but with amien of majesty, moved, like the spirit of some other world, and wasviewed by them with admiration not unmixed with awe. Veterans roundthe camp-fire, had told to the new recruits her deeds of prowessand devotion; how triumphantly she had charged at Voltorno, and howheroically she had borne their standard when they were betrayed at fatalAspromonte. 

The sun had sunk behind the mountains, but was still high in thewestern heaven, when a mounted lancer was observed descending a distantpass into the valley. The general and his staff had not long commencedtheir principal meal of the day, of which the disappearance of the sunbehind the peak was the accustomed signal. This permitted them, withoutinconvenience, to take their simple repast in the open, but still warm, air. Theodora was seated between the general and her husband, and hereye was the first that caught the figure of the distant but descendingstranger. 

"What is that?" she asked. 

The general, immediately using his telescope, after a moment'sexamination, said: "A lancer of the royal guard. "

All eyes were now fixed upon the movements of the horseman. He haddescended the winding steep, and now was tracking the craggy path whichled into the plain. As he reached the precinct of the camp, he waschallenged, but not detained. Nearer and nearer he approached, and itwas evident, from his uniform, that the conjecture of his character bythe general was correct. 

"A deserter from the guard, " whispered Colonel Campian, to Lothair. 

The horseman wag conducted by an officer to the presence of thecommander. When that presence was reached, the lancer, still silent, slowly lowered his tall weapon, and offered the general the dispatchwhich was fastened to the head of his spear. 

Every eye was on the countenance of their chief as he perused themissive, but that countenance was always inscrutable. It was observed, however, that he read the paper twice. Looking up, the general said, tothe officer: "See that the bearer is well quartered. --This is for you, "he added in a low voice to Theodora, and he gave her an enclosure; "readit quietly, and then come into my tent. "

Theodora read the letter, and quietly; though, without the preparatoryhint, it might have been difficult to have concealed her emotion. Then, after a short pause, she rose, and the general, requesting hiscompanions not to disturb themselves, joined her, and they proceeded insilence to his tent. 

"He is arrested, " said the general when they had entered it, "and takento Alessandria, where he is a close prisoner. 'Tis a blow, but I am moregrieved than surprised. "

This was the arrest of Garibaldi at Sinigaglia by the Italiangovernment, which had been communicated at Hexham House to MonsignoreBerwick by his evening visitor. 

"How will it affect operations in the field?" inquired Theodora. 

"According to this dispatch, in no degree. Our original plan is to bepursued, and acted upon the moment we are ready. That should be in afortnight, or perhaps three weeks. Menotti is to take the command on thesouthern frontier. Well, it may prevent jealousies. I think I shall sendSarano there to reconnoitre; he is well both with Nicotera and Ghirelli, and may keep things straight. "

"But there are other affairs besides operations in the field, " saidTheodora, "and scarcely less critical. Read this, " and she gave him theenclosure, which ran in these words:

"The general will tell thee what has happened. Have no fear for that. All will go right. It will not alter our plans a bunch of grapes. Beperfectly easy about this country. No Italian soldier will ever crossthe frontier except to combat the French. Write that on thy heart. Areother things as well? Other places? My advices are bad. All the prelatesare on their knees to him--with blessings on their lips and cursesin their pockets. Archbishop of Paris is as bad as any. Berwick is atBiarritz--an inexhaustible intriguer; the only priest I fear. I hearfrom one who never misled me that the Polhes brigade has orders to bein readiness. The Mary-Anne societies are not strong enough for thesituation--too local; he listens to them, but he has given no pledge. We must go deeper. 'Tis an affair of 'Madre Natura. ' Thou must seeColonna. "

"Colonna is at Rome, " said the general, "and cannot be spared. He isacting president of the National Committee, and has enough upon hishands. "

"I must see him, " said Theodora. 

"I had hoped I had heard the last of the 'Madre Natura, '" said thegeneral with an air of discontent. 

"And the Neapolitans hope they have heard the last of the eruptionsof their mountain, " said Theodora; "but the necessities of things aresterner stuff than the hopes of men. "

"Its last effort appalled and outraged Europe, " said the general. 

"Its last effort forced the French into Italy, and has freed the countryfrom the Alps to the Adriatic, " rejoined Theodora. 

"If the great man had only been as quiet as we have been, " said thegeneral, lighting a cigar, "we might have been in Rome by this time. "

"If the great man had been quiet, we should not have had a volunteer inour valley, " said Theodora. "My faith in him is implicit; he has beenright in every thing, and has never failed except when he has beenbetrayed. I see no hope for Rome except in his convictions and energy. I do not wish to die, and feel I have devoted my life only to securethe triumph of Savoyards who have sold their own country, and of priestswhose impostures have degraded mine. "

"Ah! those priests!" exclaimed the general. "I really do not much carefor any thing else. They say the Savoyard is not a bad comrade, and atany rate he can charge like a soldier. But those priests? I flutteredthem once! Why did I spare any? Why did I not burn down St. Peter's? Iproposed it, but Mirandola, with his history and his love of art and allthat old furniture, would reserve it for a temple of the true God andfor the glory of Europe! Fine results we have accomplished! And nowwe are here, hardly knowing where we are, and, as it appears, hardlyknowing what to do. "

"Not so, dear general, " said Theodora. "Where we are is the thresholdof Rome, and if we are wise we shall soon cross it. This arrest of ourgreat friend is a misfortune, but not an irredeemable one. I thoroughlycredit what he says about the Italian troops. Rest assured he knows whathe is talking about; they will never cross the frontier against us. Thedanger is from another land. But there will be no peril if we are promptand firm. Clear your mind of all these dark feelings about the 'MadreNatura. ' All that we require is that the most powerful and the mostsecret association in Europe should ratify what the local societies ofFrance have already intimated. It will be enough. Send for Colonna, andleave the rest to me. "

CHAPTER 54

The "Madre Natura" is the oldest, the most powerful, and the mostoccult, of the secret societies of Italy. Its mythic origin reaches theera of paganism, and it is not impossible that it may have been foundedby some of the despoiled professors of the ancient faith. As timeadvanced, the brotherhood assumed many outward forms, according to thevarying spirit of the age: sometimes they were freemasons, sometimesthey were soldiers, sometimes artists, sometimes men of letters. Butwhether their external representation were a lodge, a commandery, astudio, or an academy, their inward purpose was ever the same; and thatwas to cherish the memory, and, if possible, to secure the restorationof the Roman Republic, and to expel from the Aryan settlement of Romulusthe creeds and sovereignty of what they styled the Semitic invasion. 

The "Madre Natura" have a tradition that one of the most celebrated ofthe popes was admitted to their fraternity as Cardinal del Medici, andthat when he ascended the throne, mainly through their labors, hewas called upon to cooperate in the fulfilment of the great idea. Anindividual who, in his youth, has been the member of a secret society, and subsequently ascends a throne, may find himself in an embarrassingposition. This, however, according to the tradition, which there issome documentary ground to accredit, was not the perplexing lot of hisholiness Pope Leo X. His tastes and convictions were in entire unisonwith his early engagements, and it is believed that he took an early andno unwilling opportunity of submitting to the conclave a proposition toconsider whether it were not both expedient and practicable to return tothe ancient faith, for which their temples had been originally erected. 

The chief tenet of the society of "Madre Natura" is denoted by its name. They could conceive nothing more benignant and more beautiful, moreprovident and more powerful, more essentially divine, than that systemof creative order to which they owed their being, and in which itwas their privilege to exist. But they differed from other schools ofphilosophy that have held this faith, in this singular particular:they recognize the inability of the Latin race to pursue the worship ofNature in an abstract spirit, and they desired to revive those exquisitepersonifications of the abounding qualities of the mighty mother whichthe Aryan genius had bequeathed to the admiration of man. Parthenope wasagain to rule at Naples instead of Januarius, and starveling saints andwinking madonnas were to restore their usurped altars to the god of thesilver bow and the radiant daughter of the foaming wave. 

Although the society of "Madre Natura" themselves accepted theallegorical interpretation which the Neo-Platonists had placed uponthe pagan creeds during the first ages of Christianity, they couldnot suppose that the populace could ever comprehend an exposition sorefined, not to say so fanciful. They guarded, therefore, against thecorruptions and abuses of the religion of Nature by the entire abolitionof the priestly order, and in the principle that every man should be hisown priest they believed they had found the necessary security. 

As it was evident that the arrest of Garibaldi could not be kept secret, the general thought it most prudent to be himself the herald of itsoccurrence, which he announced to the troops in a manner as littlediscouraging as he could devise. It was difficult to extenuate theconsequences of so great a blow, but they were assured that it was not acatastrophe, and would not in the slightest degree affect the executionof the plans previously resolved on. Two or three days later someincrease of confidence was occasioned by the authentic intelligence thatGaribaldi had been removed from his stern imprisonment at Alessandria, and conveyed to his island-home, Caprera, though still a prisoner. 

About this time, the general said to Lothair: "My secretary has occasionto go on an expedition. I shall send a small detachment of cavalry withher, and you will be at its head. She has requested that her husbandshould have this office, but that is impossible; I cannot spare my bestofficer. It is your first command, and, though I hope it will involve nogreat difficulty, there is no command that does not require courage anddiscretion. The distance is not very great, and so long as you are inthe mountains you will probably be safe; but in leaving this range andgaining the southern Apennines, which is your point of arrival, you willhave to cross the open country. I do not hear the Papalini are in forcethere; I believe they have concentrated themselves at Rome, and aboutViterbo. If you meet any scouts and reconnoitring parties, you will beable to give a good account of them, and probably they will be as littleanxious to encounter you as you to meet them. But we must be preparedfor every thing, and you may be threatened by the enemy in force;in that case you will cross the Italian frontier, in the immediateneighborhood of which you will keep during the passage of the opencountry, and surrender yourselves and your arms to the authorities. Theywill not be very severe; but, at whatever cost and whatever may be theodds, Theodora must never be a prisoner to the Papalini. You will departto-morrow at dawn. "

There is nothing so animating, so invigorating alike to the body andsoul, so truly delicious, as travelling among mountains in the earlyhours of day. The freshness of Nature falls upon a responsive frame, and the nobility of the scene discards the petty thoughts that pesterordinary life. So felt Captain Muriel, as with every military precautionhe conducted his little troop and his precious charge among the windingpasses of the Apennines; at first dim in the matin twilight, then softwith incipient day, then coruscating with golden flashes. Sometimesthey descended from the austere heights into the sylvan intricaciesof chestnut-forests, amid the rush of waters and the fragrant stir ofancient trees; and, then again ascending to lofty summits, ranges ofinterminable hills, gray or green, expanded before them, with ever andanon a glimpse of plains, and sometimes the splendor and the odor of thesea. 

Theodora rode a mule, which had been presented to the general bysome admirer. It was an animal of remarkable beauty and intelligence, perfectly aware, apparently, of the importance of its present trust, andproud of its rich accoutrements, its padded saddle of crimson velvet, and its silver bells. A couple of troopers formed the advanced guard, and the same number at a certain distance furnished the rear. The bodyof the detachment, fifteen strong, with the sumpter-mules, generallyfollowed Theodora, by whose side, whenever the way permitted, rode theircommander. Since he left England Lothair had never been so much withTheodora. What struck him most now, as indeed previously at the camp, was that she never alluded to the past. For her there would seem to beno Muriel Towers, no Belmont, no England. You would have supposed thatshe had been born in the Apennines and had never quitted them. All herconversation was details, political or military. Not that her mannerwas changed to Lothair. It was not only as kind as before, but it wassometimes unusually and even unnecessary tender, as if she reproachedherself for the too frequent and too evident self-engrossment of herthoughts, and wished to intimate to him that, though her brain wereabsorbed, her heart was still gentle and true. 

Two hours after noon they halted in a green nook, near a beautifulcascade that descended in a mist down a sylvan cleft, and poured itspellucid stream, for their delightful use, into a natural basin ofmarble. The men picketed their horses, and their corporal, who was a manof the country and their guide, distributed their rations. All vied witheach other in administering to the comfort and convenience of Theodora, and Lothair hovered about her as a bee about a flower, but she wassilent, which he wished to impute to fatigue. But she said she was notat all fatigued, indeed quite fresh. Before they resumed theirjourney he could not refrain from observing on the beauty of theirresting-place. She assented with a pleasing nod, and then resumingher accustomed abstraction she said: "The more I think, the more I amconvinced that the battle is not to be fought in this country, but inFrance. "

After one more ascent, and that comparatively a gentle one, it wasevident that they were gradually emerging from the mountainous region. Their course since their halting lay through a spur of the chief chainthey had hitherto pursued, and a little after sunset they arrived ata farm-house, which the corporal informed his captain was the intendedquarter of Theodora for the night, as the horses could proceed nofarther without rest. At dawn they were to resume their way, and soon tocross the open country, where danger, if any, was to be anticipated. 

The farmer was frightened when he was summoned from his house by a partyof armed men; but having some good ducats given him in advance, andbeing assured they were all Christians, he took heart and labored to dowhat they desired. Theodora duly found herself in becoming quarters, anda sentry was mounted at her residence. The troopers, who had been quitecontent to wrap themselves in their cloaks and pass the night inthe air, were pleased to find no despicable accommodation in theout-buildings of the farm, and still more with the proffered vintage oftheir host. As for Lothair, he enveloped himself in his mantle and threwhimself on a bed of sacks, with a truss of Indian corn for his pillow, and, though he began by musing over Theodora, in a few minutes he wasimmersed in that profound and dreamless sleep which a life of action andmountain-air combined can alone secure. 

CHAPTER 55

The open country extending from the Apennines to the very gates ofRome, and which they had now to cross, was in general a desert; a plainclothed with a coarse vegetation, and undulating with an interminableseries of low and uncouth mounds, without any of the grace of form whichalways attends the disposition of Nature. Nature had not created them. They were the offspring of man and time, and of their rival powers ofdestruction. Ages of civilization were engulfed in this drear expanse. They were the tombs of empires and the sepulchres of contending races. The Campagna proper has at least the grace of aqueducts to break itsmonotony, and everywhere the cerulean spell of distance; but in thisgrim solitude antiquity has left only the memory of its violence andcrimes, and nothing is beautiful except the sky. 

The orders of the general to direct their course as much as possiblein the vicinity of the Italian frontier, though it lengthened theirjourney, somewhat mitigated its dreariness, and an hour after noon, after traversing some flinty fields, they observed in the distance anolive-wood, beneath the pale shade of which, and among whose twistedbranches and contorted roots, they had contemplated finding ahalting-place. But here the advanced guard observed already anencampment, and one of them rode back to report the discovery. 

A needless alarm; for, after a due reconnoissance, they were ascertainedto be friends--a band of patriots about to join the general in hisencampment among the mountains. They reported that a division of theItalian army was assembled in force upon the frontier, but that severalregiments had already signified to their commanders that they would notfight against Garibaldi or his friends. They confirmed also the newsthat the great leader himself was a prisoner at Caprera; that, although, his son Menotti by his command had withdrawn from Nerola, his forcewas really increased by the junction of Ghirelli and the Roman legion, twelve hundred strong, and that five hundred riflemen would join thegeneral in the course of the week. 

A little before sunset they had completed the passage of the opencountry, and had entered the opposite branch of the Apennines, whichthey had long observed in the distance. After wandering among some rockyground, they entered a defile amid hills covered with ilex, and thenceemerging found themselves in a valley of some expanse and considerablecultivation; bright crops, vineyards in which the vine was married tothe elm, orchards full of fruit, and groves of olive; in the distanceblue hills that were becoming dark in the twilight, and in the centre ofthe plain, upon a gentle and wooded elevation, a vast file of building, the exact character of which at this hour it was difficult to recognize, for, even as Theodora mentioned to Lothair that they now beheld theobject of their journey, the twilight seemed to vanish and the starsglistened in the dark heavens. 

Though the building seemed so near, it was yet a considerable timebefore they reached the wooded hill, and, though its ascent was easy, it was night before they halted in face of a huge gate flanked by highstone walls. A single light in one of the windows of the vast pile whichit enclosed was the only evidence of human habitation. 

The corporal sounded a bugle, and immediately the light moved and noiseswere heard--the opening of the hall-doors, and then the sudden flame oftorches, and the advent of many feet. The great gate slowly opened, and a steward and several serving-men appeared. The steward addressedTheodora and Lothair, and invited them to dismount and enter what nowappeared to be a garden with statues and terraces and fountains androws of cypress, its infinite dilapidation not being recognizable inthe deceptive hour; and he informed the escort that their quarters wereprepared for them, to which they were at once attended. Guiding theircaptain and his charge, they soon approached a double flight of steps, and, ascending, reached the main terrace from which the buildingimmediately rose. It was, in truth, a castle of the middle ages, onwhich a Roman prince, at the commencement of the last century, hadengrafted the character of one of those vast and ornate villas thenthe mode, but its original character still asserted itself, and, notwithstanding its Tuscan basement and its Ionic pilasters, its richpediments and delicate volutes, in the distant landscape it still seemeda fortress in the commanding position which became the residence of afeudal chief. 

They entered, through a Palladian vestibule, a hall which they feltmust be of huge dimensions, though with the aid of a single torch it wasimpossible to trace its limits, either of extent or of elevation. Thenbowing before them, and lighting as it were their immediate steps, thesteward guided them down a long and lofty corridor, which led to theentrance of several chambers, all vast, with little furniture, but theirwells covered with pictures. At length he opened a door and ushered theminto a saloon, which was in itself bright and glowing, but of which thelively air was heightened by its contrast with the preceding scene. Itwas lofty, and hung with faded satin in gilded panels still bright. Anancient chandelier of Venetian crystal hung illumined from the paintedceiling, and on the silver dogs of the marble hearth a fresh block ofcedar had just been thrown and blazed with aromatic light. 

A lady came forward and embraced Theodora, and then greeted Lothair withcordiality. "We must dine to-day even later than you do in London, "said the Princess of Tivoli, "but we have been expecting you these twohours. " Then she drew Theodora aside, and said, "He is here; butyou must be tired, my best beloved. As some wise man said: 'Businessto-morrow. '"

"No, no, " said Theodora; "now, now, --I am never tired. The only thingthat exhausts me is suspense. "

"It shall be so. At present I will take you away to shake the dust offyour armor, and, Serafino, attend to Captain Muriel. "

CHAPTER 56

When they assembled again in the saloon there was an addition to theirparty in the person of a gentleman of distinguished appearance. His agecould hardly have much exceeded that of thirty, but time had agitatedhis truly Roman countenance, one which we now find only in consularand imperial busts, or in the chance visage of a Roman shepherd or aNeapolitan bandit. He was a shade above the middle height, with aframe of well-knit symmetry. His proud head was proudly placed on broadshoulders, and neither time nor indulgence had marred his slenderwaist. His dark-brown hair was short and hyacinthine, close to his whiteforehead, and naturally showing his small ears. He wore no whiskers, andhis mustache was limited to the centre of his upper lip. 

When Theodora entered and offered him her hand he pressed it to his lipswith gravity and proud homage, and then their hostess said: "CaptainMuriel, let me present you to a prince who will not bear his titles, andwhom, therefore, I must call by his name--Romolo Colonna. "

The large folding-doors, richly painted and gilt, though dim fromneglect and time, and sustained by columns of precious marbles, weresuddenly opened and revealed another saloon, in which was a round tablebrightly lighted, and to which the princess invited her friends. 

Their conversation at dinner was lively and sustained; the travels ofthe last two days formed a natural part and were apposite to commencewith, but they were soon engrossed in the great subject of their lives;and Colonna, who had left Rome only four-and-twenty hours, gave theminteresting details of the critical condition of that capital. When therepast was concluded the princess rose, and, accompanied by Lothair, reentered the saloon, but Theodora and Colonna lingered behind, and, finally seating themselves at the farthest end of the apartment in whichthey had dined, became engaged in earnest conversation. 

"You have seen a great deal since we first met at Belmont, " said theprincess to Lothair. 

"It seems to me now, " said Lothair, "that I knew as much of life then asI did of the stars above us, about whose purposes and fortunes I used topuzzle myself. "

"And might have remained in that ignorance. The great majority of menexist but do not live--like Italy in the last century. The power ofthe passions, the force of the will, the creative energy of theimagination--these make life, and reveal to us a world of which themillion are entirely ignorant You have been fortunate in your youthto have become acquainted with a great woman. It develops all a man'spowers, and gives him a thousand talents. "

"I often think, " said Lothair, "that I have neither powers nor talents, but am, drifting without an orbit. "

"Into infinite space, " said the priestess. "Well, one might do worsethan that. But it is not so. In the long-run your nature will prevail, and you will fulfil your organic purpose; but you will accomplish yourends with a completeness which can only be secured by the culture anddevelopment you are now experiencing. "

"And what is my nature?" said Lothair. "I wish you would tell me. "

"Has not the divine Theodora told you?"

"She has told me many things, but not that. "

"How, then, could I know, " said the princess, "if she has not discoveredit?"

"But perhaps she has discovered it, " said Lothair. 

"Oh! then she would tell you, " said the princess, "for she is the soulof truth. "

"But she is also the soul of kindness, and she might wish to spare myfeelings. "

"Well, that is very modest, and I dare say not affected. For there is noman, however gifted, even however conceited, who has any real confidencein himself until he has acted. "

"Well, we shall soon act, " said Lothair, "and then I. Suppose I shallknow my nature. "

"In time, " said the princess, "and with the continued inspiration offriendship. "

"But you too are a great friend of Theodora?"

"Although a woman. I see you are laughing at female friendships, and, generally speaking, there is foundation for the general sneer. I willown, for my part, I have every female weakness, and in excess. Iam vain, I am curious, I am jealous, and I am envious; but I adoreTheodora. I reconcile my feelings toward her and my disposition in thisway. It is not friendship--it is worship. And indeed there are momentswhen I sometimes think she is one of those beautiful divinities thatwe once worshipped in this land, and who, when they listened to ourprayers, at least vouchsafed that our country should not be the terriblewilderness that you crossed this day. "

In the mean time Colonna, with folded arms and eyes fixed on the ground, was listening to Theodora. 

"Thus you see, " she continued, "it comes to this--Rome can only be freedby the Romans. He looks upon the secret societies of his own country ashe does upon universal suffrage--a wild beast, and dangerous, but whichmay be watched and tamed and managed by the police. He listens, but heplays with them. He temporizes. At the bottom of his heart, his Italianblood despises the Gauls. It must be something deeper and more touchingthan this. Rome must appeal to him, and in the ineffable name. "

"It has been uttered before, " said Colonna, looking up at his companion, "and--" And he hesitated. 

"And in vain you would say, " said Theodora. "Not so. There was amartyrdom, but the blood of Felice baptized the new birth of Italianlife. But I am not thinking of bloodshed. Had it not been for the doubleintrigues of the Savoyards it need not then have been shed. We bear himno ill-will--at least not now--and we can make great offers. Make them. The revolution in Gaul is ever a mimicry of Italian thought and life. Their great affair of the last century, which they have so marred andmuddied, would never have occurred had it not been for Tuscan reform;1848 was the echo of our societies; and the Seine will never bedisturbed if the Tiber flows unruffled. Let him consent to Romanfreedom, and 'Madre Natura' will guarantee him against Lutetianbarricades. "

"It is only the offer of Mary-Anne in another form, " said Colonna. 

"Guarantee the dynasty, " said Theodora. "There is the point. He cantrust us. Emperors and kings break treaties without remorse, but heknows that what is registered by the most ancient power in the world issacred. "

"'Can republicans guarantee dynasties?" said Colonna, shaking his head. 

"Why, what is a dynasty, when we are dealing with eternal things?The casualties of life compared with infinite space? Rome is eternal. Centuries of the most degrading and foreign priestcraft--enervatingrites brought in by Hellogabalus and the Syrian emperors--have failedto destroy her. Dynasties! Why, even in our dark servitude we haveseen Merovingian and Carlovingian kings, and Capets, and Valois, andBourbons, and now Bonapartes. They have disappeared, and will disappearlike Orgetorix and the dynasties of the time of Caesar. What we want isRome free. Do not you see that everything has been preparing for thatevent? This monstrous masquerade of United Italy--what is it but aninitiatory ceremony, to prove that Italy without Rome is a series ofprovinces? Establish the Roman republic, and the Roman race will, asbefore, conquer them in detail. And, when the Italians are thus reallyunited, what will become of the Gauls? Why, the first Bonaparte saidthat if Italy were really united the Gauls would have no chance. And hewas a good judge of such things. "

"What would you have me do, then?" said Colonna. 

"See him--see him at once. Say every thing that I have said, and sayit better. His disposition is with us. Convenience, all politicalpropriety, counsel and would justify his abstinence. A return to Romewould seem weak, fitful, capricious, and would prove that his previousretirement was ill-considered and ill-informed. It would disturb andalarm Europe. But you have, nevertheless, to fight against great odds. It is 'Madre Natura' against St. Peter's. Never was the abomination ofthe world so active as at present. It is in the very throes of its felldespair. To save itself it would poison in the Eucharist. "

"And if I fail?" said Colonna. 

"You will not fail. On the whole, his interest lies on our side. "

"The sacerdotal influences are very strong there. When the calculationof interest is fine, a word, a glance, sometimes a sigh, a tear, mayhave a fatal effect. "

"All depends upon him, " said Theodora. "If he were to disappear from thestage, interference would be impossible. "

"But he is on the stage, and apparently will remain. "

"A single life should not stand between Rome and freedom. "

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Romolo Colonna should go to Paris and free his country. "

CHAPTER 57

When Captain Muriel and his detachment returned to the camp, they foundthat the force had been not inconsiderably increased in their absence, while the tidings of the disposition of the Italian army brought by therecruits and the deserters from the royal standard, cherished the hopesof the troops, and stimulated their desire for action. Theodora had beenfar more communicative during their journey back than in that of herdeparture. She was less absorbed, and had resumed that serene yet evensympathizing character which was one of her charms. Without going intodetail, she mentioned more than once to Lothair how relieved she feltby Colonna accepting the mission to Paris. He was a person of so muchinfluence, she said, and of such great judgment and resource. Sheaugured the most satisfactory results from his presence on the mainscene of action. 

Time passed rapidly at the camp. When a life of constant activityis combined with routine, the hours fly. Neither letter nor telegramarrived from Colonna, and neither was expected; and yet. Theodora heardfrom him, and even favorably. One day, as she was going the roundswith her husband, a young soldier, a new recruit, approached her, and, pressing to his lips a branch of the olive-tree, presented it to her. On another occasion when she returned to her tent, she found a bunch offruit from the same tree, though not quite ripe, which showed that thecause of peace had not only progressed but had almost matured. All thesecommunications sustained her sanguine disposition, and, full of happyconfidence, she labored with unceasing and inspiring energy, so thatwhen the looked-for signal came they might be prepared to obey it; andrapidly gather the rich fruition of their glorious hopes. 

While she was in this mood of mind, a scout arrived from Nerola, bringing news that a brigade of the French army had positively embarkedat Marseilles, and might be hourly expected at Civita Vecchia. The newswas absolute. The Italian consul at Marseilles had telegraphed to hisgovernment both when the first regiment was on board and when the lasthad embarked. Copies of these telegrams had been forwarded instantly bya secret friend to the volunteers on the southern frontier. 

When Theodora heard this news she said nothing, but, turning pale, shequitted the group round the general and hastened to her own tent. Shetold her attendant, the daughter of the custom-house officer at Narni, and a true child of the mountains, that no one must approach her, noteven Colonel Campian, and the girl sat without the tent at its entrance, dressed in her many-colored garments, with fiery eyes and square whiteteeth, and her dark hair braided with gold coins and covered with a longwhite kerchief of perfect cleanliness; and she had a poniard at her sideand a revolver in her hand, and she would have used both weapons soonerthan that her mistress should be disobeyed. 

Alone in her tent, Theodora fell upon her knees, and, lifting up herhands to heaven and bowing her head to the earth, she said: "O God! whomI have ever worshipped, God of justice and of truth, receive the agonyof my soul!"

And on the earth she remained for hours in despair. 

Night came, and it brought no solace, and the day returned, but to herit brought no light. Theodora was no longer seen. The soul of the campseemed extinct. The mien of majesty that ennobled all; the winning smilethat rewarded the rifleman at his practice and the sapper at his toil;the inciting word that reanimated the recruit and recalled to theveteran the glories of Sicilian struggles--all vanished--all seemedspiritless and dull, and the armorer clinked his forge as if he were theheartless hireling of a king. 

In this state of moral discomfiture there was one person who did notlose his head, and this was the general. Calm, collected, and critical, he surveyed the situation and indicated the possible contingencies. "Our best, if not our only, chance, " he said to Colonel Campian, "isthis--that the Italian army now gathered in force upon the frontiershould march to Rome and arrive there before the French. Whatever thenhappens, we shall at least get rid of the great imposture, but in allprobability the French and Italians will fight. In that case I shalljoin the Savoyards, and in the confusion we may do some business yet. "

"This embarkation, " said the colonel, "explains the gathering ofthe Italians on the frontier. They must have foreseen this event atFlorence. They never can submit to another French occupation. It wouldupset their throne. The question is, who will be at Rome first. "

"Just so, " said the general; "and as it is an affair upon which alldepends, and is entirely beyond my control, I think I shall now takea nap. " So saying, he turned into his tent, and, in five minutes, thisbrave and exact man, but in whom the muscular development far exceededthe nervous, was slumbering without a dream. 

Civita Vecchia was so near at hand, and the scouts of the generalwere so numerous and able, that he soon learned the French had not yetarrived, and another day elapsed and still no news of the French. But, on the afternoon of the following day, the startling but authenticinformation arrived, that, after the French army having embarked andremained two days in port, the original orders had been countermanded, and the troops had absolutely disembarked. 

There was a cheer in the camp when the news was known, and Theodorastarted from her desolation, surprised that there could be in such ascene a sound of triumph. Then there was another cheer, and though shedid not move, but remained listening and leaning on her arm, the lightreturned to her eyes. The cheer was repeated, and there were steps abouther tent. She caught the voice of Lothair speaking to her attendant, andadjuring her to tell her mistress immediately that there was good news, and that the French troops had disembarked. Then he heard her husbandcalling Theodora. 

The camp became a scene of excitement and festivity which, in general, only succeeds some signal triumph. The troops lived always in the air, except in the hours of night, when the atmosphere of the mountains inthe late autumn is dangerous. At present they formed groups and partiesin the vicinity of the tents; there was their gay canteen and theretheir humorous kitchen. The man of the Gulf with his rich Venetianbanter and the Sicilian with his scaramouch tricks got on very well withthe gentle and polished Tuscan, and could amuse without offending thehigh Roman soul; but there were some quips and cranks and sometimessome antics which were not always relished by the simpler men from theislands, and the offended eye of a Corsican sometimes seemed to threaten"vendetta. "

About sunset, Colonel Campian led forth Theodora. She was in femaleattire, and her long hair, restrained only by a fillet, reached nearlyto the ground. Her Olympian brow seemed distended; a phosphoric lightglittered in her Hellenic eyes; a deep pink spot burnt upon each ofthose cheeks usually so immaculately fair. 

The general and the chief officers gathered round her with theircongratulations, but she would visit all the quarters. She spoke to themen in all the dialects of that land of many languages. The men ofthe Gulf, in general of gigantic stature, dropped their merry Venetianstories and fell down on their knees and kissed the hem of her garment;the Scaramouch forgot his tricks, and wept as he would to the Madonna;Tuscany and Rome made speeches worthy of the Arno and the Forum; andthe Corsicans and the islanders unsheathed their poniards and brandishedthem in the air, which is their mode of denoting affectionate devotion. As the night advanced, the crescent moon glittering above the Apennine, Theodora, attended by the whole staff, having visited all the troops, stopped at the chief fire of the camp, and in a voice which might havemaddened nations sang the hymn of Roman liberty, the whole army rangedin ranks along the valley joining in the solemn and triumphant chorus. 

CHAPTER 58

This exaltation of feeling in the camp did not evaporate. All felt thatthey were on the eve of some great event, and that the hour was at hand. And it was in this state of enthusiasm that couriers arrived withthe intelligence that Garibaldi had escaped from Caprera, that he hadreached Nerola in safety, and was in command of the assembled forces;and that the general was, without loss of time, to strike his camp, jointhe main body at a given place, and then march to Rome. 

The breaking-up of the camp was as the breaking-up of a long frost andthe first scent of spring. There was a brightness in every man's faceand a gay elasticity in all their movements. But when the order of theday informed them that they must prepare for instant combat, and that ineight-and-forty hours they would probably be in face of the enemy, thehearts of the young recruits fluttered with strange excitement, and theveterans nodded to each other with grim delight. 

It was nearly midnight when the troops quitted the valley, through adefile, in an opposite direction to the pass by which they had enteredit. It was a bright night. Colonel Campian had the command of thedivision in advance, which was five hundred strong. After the defile, the country, though hilly, was comparatively open, and here the advancedguard was to halt until the artillery and cavalry had effected thepassage, and this was the most laborious and difficult portion of themarch, but all was well considered, and all went right. The artilleryand cavalry, by sunrise, had joined the advanced guard, who werebivouacking in the rocky plain, and about noon the main columns of theinfantry began to deploy from the heights, and, in a short time, thewhole force was in the field. Soon after this some of the skirmishers, who had been sent forward, returned, and reported the enemy in force, and in a strong position, commanding the intended route of the invadingforce. On this the general resolved to halt for a few hours, and restand refresh the troops, and to recommence their march after sunset, so that, without effort, they might be in the presence of the enemy bydawn. 

Lothair had been separated from Theodora during this, to him, novel andexciting scene. She had accompanied her husband, but, when the wholeforce advanced in battle array, the general had desired that she shouldaccompany the staff. They advanced through the night, and by dawn theywere fairly in the open country. In the distance, and in the middle ofthe rough and undulating plain, was a round hill with an ancient city, for it was a bishop's see, built all about and over it. It would havelooked like a gigantic beehive, had it not been for a long convent onthe summit, flanked by some stone-pines, as we see in the pictures ofGaspar and Claude. 

Between this city and the invading force, though not in a direct line, was posted the enemy in a strong position; their right wing protectedby one of the mounds common in the plain, and their left backed by anolive-wood of considerable extent, and which grew on the last rockyspur of the mountains. They were, therefore, as regards the plain, oncommanding ground. The strength of the two forces was not unequal, andthe papal troops were not to be despised, consisting, among others, of adetachment of the legion of Antibes and the Zouaves. They had artillery, which was well posted. 

The general surveyed the scene, for which he was not unprepared. Disposing his troops in positions in which they were as much protectedas possible from the enemy's fire, he opened upon them a fierce andcontinuous cannonade, while he ordered Colonel Campian and eight hundredmen to fall back among the hills, and, following a circuitous path whichhad been revealed by a shepherd, gain the spur of the mountains, andattack the enemy in their rear through the olive-wood. It was calculatedthat this movement, if successful, would require about three hours, andthe general, for that period of the time, had to occupy the enemy andhis own troops with what were, in realty, feint attacks. 

When the calculated time had elapsed, the general became anxious, andhis glass was never from his eye. He was posted on a convenient ridge, and the wind, which was high this day from the sea, frequently clearedthe field from the volumes of smoke; so his opportunities of observationwere good. But the three hours passed, and there was no sign of theapproach of Campian, and he ordered Sarano, with his division, toadvance toward the mound and occupy the attention of the right wing ofthe enemy; but, very shortly after Lothair had carried this order, andfour hours having elapsed, the general observed some confusion inthe left wing of the enemy, and, instantly countermanding the order, commanded a general attack in line. The troops charged with enthusiasm, but they were encountered with a resolution as determined. At firstthey carried the mound, broke the enemy's centre, and were mixed up withtheir great guns; but the enemy fiercely rallied, and the invaders wererepulsed. The papal troops retained their position, and their opponentswere in disorder on the plain, and a little dismayed. It was at thismoment that Theodora rushed forward, and, waving a sword in one hand, and in the other the standard of the republic, exclaimed, "Brothers, toRome!"

This sight inflamed their faltering hearts, which, after all, wererather confounded than dismayed. They formed and rallied round her, andcharged with renewed energy at the very moment that Campian had broughtthe force of his division on the enemy's rear. A panic came over thepapal troops, thus doubly assailed, and their rout was complete. Theyretreated in the utmost disorder to Viterbo, which they abandoned thatnight, and hurried to Rome. 

At the last moment, when the victory was no longer doubtful, and allwere in full retreat or in full pursuit, a Zouave, in wantonness, firinghis weapon before he throw it away, sent a random-shot which struckTheodora, and she fell. Lothair, who had never left her during thebattle, was at her side in a moment, and a soldier, who had also markedthe fatal shot; and, strange to say, so hot and keen was the pursuit, that, though a moment before they seemed to be in the very thick of thestrife, they almost instantaneously found themselves alone, or ratherwith no companions than the wounded near them. She looked at Lothair, but, at first, could not speak. She seemed stunned, but soon murmured:"Go! go! you are wanted!"

At this moment the general rode up with some of his staff. Hiscountenance was elate, and his eye sparkled with fire. But, catching thefigure of Lothair kneeling on the field, he reined in his chargerand said, "What is this?" Then looking more closely, he instantlydismounted, and muttering to himself, "This mars the victory, " he was atTheodora's side. 

A slight smile came over her when she recognized the general, and shefaintly pressed his hand, and then said again: "Go, go; you are allwanted. "

"None of up are wanted. The day is won; we must think of you. "

"Is it won?" she murmured. 

"Complete. "

"I die content. "

"Who talks of death?" said the general. "This is a wound, but I havehad some worse. What we must think of now are remedies. I passed anambulance this moment. Run for, it, " he said to his aide-de-camp. "Wemust stanch the wound at once; but it is only a mile to the city, andthen we shall find every thing, for we were expected. I will ride on, and there shall be proper attendance ready before you arrive. You willconduct our friend to the city, " he said to Lothair, "and be of goodcourage, as I am. "

CHAPTER 59

The troops were rushing through the gates of the city when the generalrode up. There was a struggling and stifling crowd; cheers and shrieks. It was that moment of wild fruition, when the master is neitherrecognized nor obeyed. It is not easy to take a bone out of a dog'smouth; nevertheless, the presence of the general in time prevailed, something like order was established, and, before the ambulance couldarrive, a guard had been appointed to receive it, and the ascent to themonastery, where a quarter was prepared, kept clear. 

During the progress to the city Theodora never spoke, but she seemedstunned rather than suffering; and once, when Lothair, who was walkingby her side, caught her glance with his sorrowful and anxious face, sheput forth her head, and pressed his. 

The ascent to the convent was easy, and the advantages of air andcomparative tranquillity which the place offered counterbalanced therisk of postponing, for a very brief space, the examination of thewound. 

They laid her on their arrival on a large bed, without poles or canopy, in a lofty whitewashed room of considerable dimensions, clean and airy, with high, open windows. There was no furniture in the room except achair, a table, and a crucifix. Lothair took her in his arms and laidher on the bed; and the common soldier who had hitherto assisted him, agiant in stature, with a beard a foot long, stood by the bedside cryinglike a child. The chief surgeon almost at the same moment arrived withan aide-de-camp of the general, and her faithful female attendant, andin a few minutes her husband, himself wounded and covered with dust. 

The surgeon at once requested that all should withdraw except herdevoted maid, and they waited his report without, in that deep sadsilence which will not despair, and yet dares not hope. 

When the wound had been examined and probed and dressed, Theodora in afaint voice said, "Is it desperate?"

"Not desperate, " said the surgeon, "but serious. All depends upon yourperfect tranquility--of mind as well as body. "

"Well I am here and cannot move; and as for my mind, I am not onlyserene, but happy. "

"Then we shall get through this, " said the surgeon, encouragingly. 

"I do not like you to stay with me, " said Theodora. "There are othersufferers besides myself. "

"My orders are not to quit you, " said the surgeon, "but I can be ofgreat use within these walls. I shall return when the restorative hashad its effect. But remember, if I be wanted, I am always here. "

Soon after this Theodora fell into a gentle slumber, and after two hourswoke refreshed. The countenance of the surgeon when he again visited herwas less troubled; it was hopeful. 

The day was now beginning to decline; notwithstanding the scenes oftumult and violence near at hand, all was here silent; and the breeze, which had been strong during the whole day, but which blew from the sea, and was very soft, played gratefully upon the pale countenance of thesufferer. Suddenly she said, "What is that?"

And they answered and said, "We heard nothing. "

"I hear the sound of great guns, " said Theodora. 

And they listened, and in a moment both the surgeon and the maid heardthe sound of distant ordnance. 

"The liberator is at hand, " said the maid. 

"I dare say, " said the surgeon. 

"No, " said Theodora, looking distressed. "The sounds do not come fromhis direction. Go and see, Dolores; ask, and tell me what are thesesounds. "

The surgeon was sitting by her side, and occasionally touching herpulse, or wiping the slight foam from her brow, when Dolores returnedand said, "Lady, the sounds are the great guns of Civita Vecchia. "

A deadly change come over the countenance of Theodora, and the surgeonlooked alarmed. He would have given her some restorative, but sherefused it. "No, kind friend, " she said; "it is finished. I have justreceived a wound more fatal than the shot in the field this morning. TheFrench are at Rome. Tell me, kind friend, how long do you think I maylive?"

The surgeon felt her pulse; his look was gloomy. "In such a case asyours, " he said, "the patient is the best judge. "

"I understand, " she said. "Send, then, at once for my husband. "

He was at hand, for his wound had been dressed in the convent, and hecame to Theodora with his arm in a sling, but with the attempt of acheerful visage. 

In the mean time, Lothair, after having heard the first, and by no meanshopeless, bulletin of the surgeon, had been obliged to leave the conventto look after his men, and having seen theme in quarters and made hisreport to the general, he obtained permission to return to the conventand ascertain the condition of Theodora. Arrived there, he heard thatshe had had refreshing slumber, and that her husband was now with her, and a ray of hope lighted up the darkness of his soul. He was walking upand down the refectory of the convent with that sickening restlessnesswhich attends impending and yet uncertain sorrow, when Colonel Campianentered the apartment and beckoned to him. 

There was an expression in his face which appalled Lothair, and he wasabout to inquire after Theodora, when his tongue cleaved to the roof ofhis mouth, and he could not speak. The Colonel shook his head, and saidin a low, hollow voice, "She wishes to see you, and alone. Come. "

Theodora was sitting in the bed, propped up by cushions, when Lothairentered, and, as her wound was internal, there was no evidence of hersufferings. The distressful expression of her face, when she heard thegreat guns of Civita Vecchia, had passed away. It was serious, but itwas serene. She bade her maid leave the chamber, and then she said toLothair, "It is the last time I shall speak to you, and I wish that weshould be alone. There is something much on my mind at this moment, andyou can relieve it. "

"Adored being, " murmured Lothair with streaming eyes, "there is no wishof yours that I will not fulfil. "

"I know your life, for you have told it me, and you are true. I knowyour nature; it is gentle and brave, but perhaps too susceptible. Iwished it to be susceptible only of the great and good. Mark me--I havea vague but strong conviction that there will be another and a morepowerful attempt to gain you to the Church of Rome. If I have ever beento you, as you have sometimes said, an object of kind thoughts--if nota fortunate, at least a faithful friend--promise me now, at this hourof trial, with all the solemnity that becomes the moment, that you willnever enter that communion. "

Lothair would have spoken, but his voice was choked, and he could onlypress her hand and bow his head. 

"But promise me, " said Theodora. 

"I promise, " said Lothair. 

"And now, " she said, "embrace me, for I wish that your spirit should beupon me as mine departs. "

CHAPTER 60

It was a November day in Rome, and the sky was as gloomy as the heavenof London. The wind moaned through the silent streets, deserted exceptby soldiers. The shops were shut, not a civilian or a priest couldbe seen. The Corso was occupied by the Swiss Guard and Zouaves, withartillery ready to sweep it at a moment's notice. Six of the citygates were shut and barricaded with barrels full of earth. Troops andartillery were also posted in several of the principal piazzas, and onsome commanding heights, and St. Peter's itself was garrisoned. 

And yet these were the arrangements rather of panic than precaution. The utmost dismay pervaded the council-chamber of the Vatican. Sincethe news had arrived of the disembarkation of the French troops atMarseilles, all hope of interference had expired. It was clear thatBerwick had been ultimately foiled, and his daring spirit and teemingdevice were the last hope, as they were the ablest representation, of Roman audacity and stratagem. The Revolutionary Committee, whoseabiding-place or agents never could be traced or discovered, hadposted every part of the city, during the night, with their manifesto, announcing that the hour had arrived; an attempt, partially successful, had been made to blow up the barracks of the Zouaves; and the cardinalsecretary was in possession of information that an insurrection wasimmediate, and that the city won fired in four different quarters. 

The pope had escaped from the Vatican to the Castle of St. Angelo, wherehe was secure, and where his courage could be sustained by the presenceof the Noble Guard, with their swords always drawn. The six-score ofmonsignori, who in their different offices form what is styled the courtof Rome, had either accompanied his holiness, or prudently secretedthemselves in the strongest palaces and convents at their command. Laterin the day news arrived of the escape of Garibaldi from Caprera; he wassaid to be marching on the city, and only five-and-twenty miles distant. There appeared another proclamation from the Revolutionary Committee, mysteriously posted under the very noses of the guards and police, postponing the insurrection till the arrival of the liberator. 

The papal cause seemed hopeless. There was a general feeling throughoutthe city and all classes, that this time it was to be an affair ofAlaric or Genseric, or the Constable of Bourbon; no negotiations, nocompromises, no conventions, but slaughter, havoc, a great judicialdevastation, that was to extirpate all signs and memories of Mediaevaland Semitic Rome, and restore and renovate the inheritance of the trueoffspring of the she-wolf. The very aspect of the place itself wassinister. Whether it were the dulness of the dark sky, or the frown ofMadre Natura herself, but the old Seven Hills seemed to look askance. The haughty capitol, impatient of its chapels, sighed once more fortriumphs; and the proud Palatine, remembering the Caesars, glanced withimperial contempt on the palaces of the papal princelings that, in thecourse of ignominious ages, had been constructed out of the exhaustlesswomb of its still sovereign ruin. The Jews in their quarter spokenothing, but exchanged a curious glance, as if to say, "Has it come atlast? And will they indeed serve her as they served Sion?"

This dreadful day at last passed, followed by as dreadful a night, andthen another day equally gloomy, equally silent, equally panic-stricken. Even insurrection would have been a relief amid the horrible and wearingsuspense. On the third day the government made some wild arrests ofthe wrong persons, and then came out a fresh proclamation from theRevolutionary Committee, directing the Romans to make no move until theadvanced guard of Garibaldi had appeared upon Monte Mario. About thistime the routed troops of the pope arrived in confusion from Viterbo, and of course extenuated their discomfiture by exaggerating the strengthof their opponents. According to them, they had encountered not lessthan ten thousand men, who now; having joined the still greater force ofGaribaldi, were in full march on the city. 

The members of the papal party who showed the greatest spirit and thehighest courage at this trying conjuncture were the Roman ladies andtheir foreign friends. They scraped lint for the troops as incessantlyas they offered prayers to the Virgin. Some of them were trainednurses, and they were training others to tend the sick and wounded. Theyorganized a hospital service, and when the wounded arrived from Viterbo, notwithstanding the rumors of incendiarism and massacre, they came forthfrom their homes, and proceeded in companies, with no male attendantsbut armed men, to the discharge of their self-appointed public duties. There: were many foreigners in the papal ranks, and the sympathiesand services of the female visitors to Rome were engaged for theircountrymen. Princesses of France and Flanders might be seen by thetressel-beds of many a suffering soldier of Dauphin and Brabant; butthere were numerous subjects of Queen Victoria in the papal ranks--someEnglishmen, several Scotchmen, and many Irish. For them the Englishladies had organized a special service. Lady St. Jerome, with unflaggingzeal, presided over this department; and the superior of the sisterhoodof mercy, that shrank from no toil and feared no danger in thefulfilment of those sacred duties of pious patriots, was Miss Arundel. 

She was leaning over the bed of one who had been cut down in theolive-wood by a sabre of Campian's force, when a peal of artillerywas heard. She thought that her hour had arrived, and the assault hadcommenced. 

"Most holy Mary!" she exclaimed, "sustain me. "

There was another peal, and it was repeated, and again and again atregular intervals. 

"That is not a battle, it is a salute, " murmured the wounded soldier. 

And he was right; it was the voice of the great guns telling that theFrench had arrived. 

The consternation of the Revolutionary Committee, no longer sustainedby Colonna, absent in France, was complete. Had the advanced guard ofGaribaldi been in sight, it might still have been the wisest course torise; but Monte Mario was not yet peopled by them, and an insurrectionagainst the papal troops, reanimated by the reported arrival of theFrench, and increased in numbers by the fugitives from Viterbo, wouldhave been certainly a rash and probably a hopeless effort. And so, inthe midst of confused and hesitating councils, the first division of theFrench force arrived at the gates of Rome, and marched into the gloomyand silent city. 

Since the interference of St. Peter and St. Paul against Alaric, thepapacy had never experienced a more miraculous interposition in itsfavor. Shortly after this the wind changed, and the sky became serene;a sunbeam played on the flashing cross of St. Peter's; the Pope left theCastle of Angelo, and returned to the Quirinal; the Noble Guard sheathedtheir puissant blades; the six-score of monsignori reappeared in alltheir busy haunts and stately offices; and the court of Rome, no longerdespairing of the republic, and with a spirit worthy of the Senate afterCannae, ordered the whole of its forces into the field to combat itsinvaders, with the prudent addition, in order to insure a triumph, of abrigade of French infantry armed with chassepots. 

Garibaldi, who was really at hand, hearing of these events, fell back onMonte Rotondo, about fifteen miles from the city, and took up a strongposition. He was soon attacked by his opponents, and defeated withconsiderable slaughter, and forced to fly. The papal troops returnedto Rome in triumph, but with many wounded. The Roman ladies and theirfriends resumed their noble duties with enthusiasm. The ambulances wereapportioned to the different hospitals, and the services of all wererequired. Our own countrymen had suffered severely, but the skilland energy and gentle care of Clare Arundel and her companions onlyincreased with the greater calls upon their beautiful and sublimevirtue. 

A woman came to Miss Arundel and told her that, in one of theambulances, was a young man whom they could not make out. He wasseverely wounded, and had now swooned; but they had reason to believe hewas an Englishman. Would she see him and speak to him? And she went. 

The person who had summoned her was a woman of much beauty, not anuncommon quality in Rome, and of some majesty of mien, as little rare, in that city. She was said, at the time when some inquiry was made, tobe Maria Serafina de Angelis, the wife of a tailor in the Ripetta. 

The ambulance was in the court-yard of the hospital of the SantissimaTrinita di Pellegrini. The woman pointed to it, and then went away. There was only one person in the ambulance; the rest had been taken tothe hospital, but he had been left because he was in a swoon, and theywere trying to restore him. Those around the ambulance made room forMiss Arundel as she approached, and she beheld a young man, coveredwith the stains of battle, and severely wounded; but his countenance wasuninjured though insensible. His eyes were closed, and his auburn hairfell in clusters on his white forehead. The sister of mercy touched thepulse to ascertain whether there yet was life, but, in the very act, her own frame became agitated, and the color left her cheek as sherecognized--Lothair. '

CHAPTER 61

When Lothair in some degree regained consciousness, he found himselfin bed. The chamber was lofty and dim, and had once been splendid. Thoughtfulness had invested it with an air of comfort rare under Italianroofs. The fagots sparkled on the hearth, the light from the windowswas veiled with hangings, and the draughts from the tall doors guardedagainst by screens. And by his bedside there were beautiful flowers, anda crucifix, and a silver bell. 

Where was he? He looked up at the velvet canopy above, and then at thepictures that covered the walls, but there was no familiar aspect. Heremembered nothing since he was shot down in the field of Mentana, andeven that incoherently. 

And there had been another battle before that, followed by a catastrophestill more dreadful. When had all this happened, and where? He triedto move his bandaged form, but he had no strength, and his mind seemedweaker than his frame. But he was soon sensible that he was not alone. Aveiled figure gently lifted him, and another one refreshed his pillows. He spoke, or tried to speak, but one of them pressed her finger to hershrouded lips, and he willingly relapsed into the silence which he hadhardly strength enough to break. 

And sometimes these veiled and gliding ministers brought him sustenanceand sometimes remedies, and he complied with all their suggestions, butwith absolute listlessness; and sometimes a coarser hand interposed, andsometimes he caught a countenance that was not concealed, but was everstrange. He had a vague impression that they examined and dressed hiswounds, and arranged his bandages; but whether he really had wounds, andwhether he were or were not bandaged, he hardly knew, and did not careto know. He was not capable of thought, and memory was an effort underwhich he always broke down. Day after day he remained silent and almostmotionless alike in mind and body. He had a vague feeling that, aftersome great sorrows, and some great trials, he was in stillness and insafety; and he had an indefinite mysterious sentiment of gratitude tosome unknown power, that had cherished him in his dark calamities, andpoured balm and oil into his wounds. 

It was in this mood of apathy that, one evening, there broke upon hisear low but beautiful voices performing the evening service of theChurch. His eye glistened, his heart was touched by the vesper spell. Helistened with rapt attention to the sweet and sacred strains, and whenthey died away he felt depressed. Would they ever sound again?

Sooner than he could have hoped, for, when he woke in the morning fromhis slumbers, which, strange to say, were always disturbed, for the mindand the memory seemed to work at night though in fearful and exhaustingchaos, the same divine melodies that had soothed him in the eve, nowsounded in the glad and grateful worship of matin praise. 

"I have heard the voice of angels, " he murmured to his veiled attendant. 

The vesper and the matin hours became at once the epochs of his day. Hewas ever thinking of them, and soon was thinking of the feelings whichtheir beautiful services celebrate and express. His mind seemed nolonger altogether a blank, and the religious sentiment was the firstthat returned to his exhausted heart. 

"There will be a requiem to-day, " whispered one of his veiledattendants. 

A requiem! a service for the dead; a prayer for their peace andrest! And who was dead? The bright, the matchless one, the spell andfascination of his life! Was it possible? Could she be dead, whoseemed vitality in its consummate form? Was there ever such a being asTheodora? And if there were no Theodora on earth, why should one thinkof any thing but heaven?

The sounds came floating down the chamber till they seemed to clusterround his brain; sometimes solemn, sometimes thrilling, sometimesthe divine pathos melting the human heart with celestial sympathy andheavenly solace. The tears fell fast from his agitated vision, and hesank back exhausted, almost insensible, on his pillow. 

"The Church has a heart for all our joys and all our sorrows, and forall our hopes, and all our fears, " whispered a veiled attendant, as shebathed his temples with fragrant waters. 

Though the condition of Lothair had at first seemed desperate, hisyouthful and vigorous frame had enabled him to rally, and, with timeand the infinite solicitude which he received, his case was notwithout hope. But, though his physical cure was somewhat advanced, theprostration of his mind seemed susceptible of no relief. The servicesof the Church accorded with his depressed condition; they were the onlyevents of his life, and he cherished them. His attendants now permittedand even encouraged him to speak; but he seemed entirely incurious andindifferent. Sometimes they read to him, and he listened, but henever made remarks. The works which they selected had a religious orecclesiastical bias, even while they were imaginative; and it seemeddifficult not to be interested by the ingenious fancy by which it wasworked out, that every thing that was true and sacred in heaven had itssymbol and significance in the qualities and accidents of earth. 

After a month passed in this manner, the surgeons having announced thatLothair might now prepare to rise from his bed, a veiled attendant saidto him one day, "There is a gentleman here who is a friend of yours, andwho would like to see you. And perhaps you would like to see him alsofor other reasons, for you must have much to say to God after all thatyou have suffered. And he is a most holy man. "

"I have no wish to see any one. Are you sure he is not a stranger?"asked Lothair. 

"He is in the next room, " said the attendant. "He has been herethroughout your illness, conducting our services; often by your bedsidewhen you were asleep, and always praying for you. "

The veiled attendant drew back and waved her hand, and some one glidedforward, and said in a low, soft voice, "You have not forgotten me?"

And Lothair beheld Monsignore Catesby. 

"It is a long time since we met, " said Lothair, looking at him with somescrutiny, and then all interest died away, and he turned away his vagueand wandering eyes. 

"But you know me?"

"I know not where I am, and I but faintly comprehend what has happened, "murmured Lothair. 

"You are among friends, " said the monsignore, in tones of sympathy. "What has happened, " he added, with an air of mystery, not unmixed witha certain expression of ecstasy in his glance, "must be reserved forother times, when you are stronger, and can grapple with such highthemes. "

"How long have I been here?" inquired Lothair, dreamily. 

"It is a month since the Annunciation. "

"What Annunciation?"

"Hush!" said the monsignore, and he raised his finger to his lip. "Wemust not talk of these things--at least at present. No doubt, the gameblessed person that saved you from the jaws of death is at this momentguarding over your recovery and guiding it; but we do not deserve, nordoes the Church expect, perpetual miracles. We must avail ourselves, under Divine sanction, of the beneficent tendencies of Nature; and inyour case her operations must not be disturbed at this moment by anyexcitement, except, indeed, the glow of gratitude for celestial aid, andthe inward joy which must permeate the being of any one who feels thathe is among the most favored of men. "

From this time Monsignore Catesby scarcely ever quitted Lothair. He hailed Lothair in the morn, and parted from him at night with ablessing; and in the interval Catesby devoted his whole life, andthe inexhaustible resources of his fine and skilled intelligence, to alleviate or amuse the existence of his companion. Sometimes heconversed with Lothair, adroitly taking the chief burden of the talk;and yet, whether it were bright narrative or lively dissertation, neverseeming to lecture or hold forth, but relieving the monologue, whenexpedient, by an interesting inquiry, which he was always ready in duetime to answer himself, or softening the instruction by the playfulnessof his mind and manner. Sometimes he read to Lothair, and attuned themind of his charge to the true spiritual note by melting passages fromKempis or Chrysostom. Then he would bring a portfolio of wondrousdrawings by the mediaeval masters, of saints and seraphs, and accustomthe eye and thought of Lothair to the forms and fancies of the court ofheaven. 

One day, Lothair, having risen from his bed for the first time, andlying on a sofa in an adjoining chamber to that in which he had beenso long confined, the monsignore seated himself by the side of Lothair, and, opening a portfolio, took out a drawing and held it before Lothair, observing his countenance with a glance of peculiar scrutiny. 

"Well!" said Catesby, after some little pause, as if awaiting a remarkfrom his companion. 

"'Tis beautiful!" said Lothair. "Is it by Raffaelle?"

"No; by Fra Bartolomeo. But the countenance, do you remember ever havingmet such a one?"

Lothair shook his head. Catesby took out another drawing, the samesubject, the Blessed Virgin. "By Giulio, " said the monsignore, and hewatched the face of Lothair, but it was listless. 

Then he showed Lothair another, and another, and another. At last heheld before him one which was really by Raffaelle, and by which Lothairwas evidently much moved. His eye lit up, a blush suffused his palecheek, he took the drawing himself, and held it before his gaze with atrembling hand. 

"Yes I remember this, " he murmured, for it was one of those faces ofGreek beauty which the great painter not infrequently caught up at Rome. The monsignore looked gently round and waved his hand, and immediatelyarose the hymn to the Virgin in subdued strains of exquisite melody. 

On the next morning, when Lothair woke, he found on the table, by hisside, the drawing of the Virgin in a sliding frame. 

About this time the monsignore began to accustom Lothair to leave hisapartment, and, as he was not yet permitted to walk, Catesby introducedwhat he called an English chair, in which Lothair was enabled to surveya little the place which had been to him a refuge and a home. It seemeda building of vast size, raised round an inner court with arcadesand windows, and, in the higher story where he resided, an apparentlyendless number of chambers and galleries. One morning, in theirperambulations, the monsignore unlocked the door of a covered way whichhad no light but from a lamp which guided their passage. The oppositedoor at the end of this covered way opened into a church, but one of acharacter different from any which Lothair had yet entered. 

It had been raised during the latter of the sixteenth century byVignola, when, under the influence of the great Pagan revival, theChristian church began to assume the character of an Olympian temple. Acentral painted cupola of large but exquisite proportions, supportedby pilasters with gilded capitals, and angels of white marble springingfrom golden brackets; walls incrusted with rare materials of every tint, and altars supported by serpentine columns of agate and alabaster;a blaze of pictures, and statues, and precious stones, and preciousmetals, denoted one of the chief temples of the sacred brotherhood ofJesus, raised when the great order had recognized that the views ofprimitive and mediaeval Christianity, founded on the humility of man, were not in accordance with the age of confidence in human energy, inwhich they were destined to rise, and which they were determined todirect. 

Guided by Catesby, and leaning on a staff, Lothair gained a gorgeousside chapel in which mass was celebrating; the air was rich withincense, and all heaven seemed to open in the ministrations of aseraphic choir. Crushed by his great calamities, both physical andmoral, Lothair sometimes felt that he could now be content if the restof his life could flow away amid this celestial fragrance and thesegushing sounds of heavenly melody. And absorbed in these feelings it wasnot immediately observed by him that on the altar, behind the dazzlingblaze of tapers, was a picture of the Virgin, and identically the samecountenance as that he had recognized with emotion in the drawing ofRaffaelle. 

It revived perplexing memories which agitated him, thoughts on whichit seemed his brain had not now strength enough to dwell, and yet withwhich it now seemed inevitable for him to grapple. The congregationwas not very numerous, and, when it broke up, several of them lingeredbehind and whispered to the monsignore, and then, after a little time, Catesby approached Lothair and said: "There are some here who wouldwish to kiss your hand, or even touch the hem of your garments. It istroublesome, but natural, considering all that has occurred and thatthis is the first time, perhaps, that they have met any one who has beenso favored. "

"Favored!" said Lothair; "Am I favored? It seems to me I am the mostforlorn of men--if even I am that. "

"Hush!" said the monsignore, "we must not talk of these things atpresent;" and he motioned to some, who approached and contemplatedLothair with blended curiosity and reverence. 

These visits of Lothair to the beautiful church of the Jesuits becameof daily occurrence, and often happened several times on the sameday; indeed they formed the only incident which seemed to break hislistlessness. He became interested in the change and variety of theservices, in the persons and characters of the officiating priests. Thesoft manners of these fathers, their intelligence in the performance oftheir offices, their obliging carriage, and the unaffected concernwith which all he said or did seemed to inspire the won upon himunconsciously. The church had become his world; and his sympathies, ifhe still had sympathies, seemed confined to those within its walls. 

In the mean time his physical advancement though slow was gradual andhad hitherto never been arrested. He could even walk a little alone, though artificially supported, and ramble about the halls and galleriesfull of a prodigious quantity of pictures, from the days of RaffaelSanzio to those of Raffael Mengs. 

"The doctors think now we might try a little drive, " said the monsignoreone morning. "The rains have ceased and refreshed every thing. To-dayis like the burst of spring;" and, when Lothair seemed to shudder atthe idea of facing any thing like the external world, the monsignoresuggested immediately that they should go out in a close carriage, whichthey finally entered in the huge quadrangle of the building. Lothairwas so nervous that he pulled down even the blind of his window; and themonsignore, who always humored him, half pulled down his own. 

Their progress seemed through a silent land, and they could hardly betraversing streets. Then the ascent became a little precipitous, andthen the carriage stopped, and the monsignore said: "Here is a solitaryspot. We shall meet no one. The view is charming, and the air is soft. "And he placed his hand gently on the arm of Lothair, and, as it were, drew him out of the carriage. 

The sun was bright, and the sky was bland. There was something in thebreath of Nature that was delightful. The scent of violets was worthall the incense in the world; all the splendid marbles and priestlyvestments seemed hard and cold when compared with the glorious colorsof the cactus and the wild forms of the golden and gigantic aloes. The Favonian breeze played on the brow of this beautiful hill, and theexquisite palm-trees, while they bowed their rustling heads, answered inresponsive chorus to the antiphon of Nature. 

The dreary look that had been so long imprinted on the face of Lothairmelted away. 

"'Tis well that we came, is it not?" said Catesby; "and now we willseat ourselves. " Below and before them, on an undulating site, a cityof palaces and churches spread out its august form, enclosing within itsample walls sometimes a wilderness of classic ruins--column, and arch, and theatre--sometimes the umbrageous spread of princely gardens. Awinding and turbid river divided the city in unequal parts, in one ofwhich there rose a vast and glorious temple, crowned with a dome ofalmost superhuman size and skill, on which the favorite sign of heavenflashed with triumphant truth. 

The expression of relief which, for a moment, had reposed on the face ofLothair, left it when he said, in an agitated voice, "I at length beholdRome!"

CHAPTER 62

This recognition of Rome by Lothair evinced not only a consciousness oflocality, but an interest in it not before exhibited; and the monsignoresoon after seized the opportunity of drawing the mind of his companionto the past, and feeling how far he now realized the occurrences thatimmediately preceded his arrival in the city. But Lothair would notdwell on them. "I wish to think of nothing, " he said, "that happenedbefore I entered this city: all I desire now is to know those to whom Iam indebted for my preservation in a condition that seemed hopeless. "

"There is nothing hopeless with Divine aid, " said the monsignore; "but, humanly speaking, you are indebted for your preservation to Englishfriends, long and intimately cherished. It is under their roof that youdwell, the Agostini palace, tenanted by Lord St. Jerome. "

"Lord St. Jerome!" murmured Lothair to himself. 

"And the ladies of his house are those who, only with some slightassistance from my poor self, tended you throughout your most desperatestate, and when we sometimes almost feared that mind and body were alikewrecked. "

"I have a dream of angels, " said Lothair; "and sometimes I listened toheavenly voices that I seemed to have heard before. "

"I am sure you have not forgotten the ladies of that house?" saidCatesby, watching his countenance. 

"No; one of them summoned me to meet her at Rome, " murmured Lothair, "and I am here. "

"That summons was divine, " said Catesby, "and only the herald of thegreat event that was ordained and has since occurred. In this holy city, Miss Arundel must ever count as the most sanctified of her sex. "

Lothair lapsed into silence, which subsequently appeared to bemeditation, for, when the carriage stopped, and the monsignore assistedhim to alight, he said, "I must see Lord St. Jerome. "

And, in the afternoon, with due and preparatory announcement, Lord St. Jerome waited on Lothair. The monsignore ushered him into the chamber, and, though he left them as it were alone, never quitted it. He watchedthem conversing, while he seemed to be arranging books and flowers; hehovered over the conference, dropping down on them at a critical moment, when the words became either languid or embarrassing. Lord St. Jeromewas a hearty man, simple and high-bred. He addressed Lothair with allhis former kindness, but with some degree of reserve, and even a dashof ceremony. Lothair was not insensible to the alteration in his manner, but could ascribe it to many causes. He was himself resolved to makean effort, when Lord St. Jerome arose to depart, and expressed theintention of Lady St. Jerome to wait on him on the morrow. "No, my dearlord, " said Lothair; "to-morrow I make my first visit, and it shall beto my best friends. I would try to come this evening, but they will notbe alone; and I must see them alone if it be only once. "

This visit of the morrow rather pressed on the nervous system ofLothair. It was no slight enterprise, and called up many recollections. He brooded over his engagement during the whole evening, and his nightwas disturbed. His memory, long in a state of apathy, or curbed andcontrolled into indifference, seemed endowed with unnatural vitality, reproducing the history of his past life in rapid and exhausting tumult. All its scenes rose before him--Brentham, and Vauxe, and, Muriel--andclosing with one absorbing spot, which, for a long time, it avoided, andin which all merged and ended--Belmont. Then came that anguish of theheart, which none can feel but those who in the youth of life have lostsome one infinitely fascinating and dear, and the wild query why he, too, had not fallen on the fatal plain which had entombed all the hopeand inspiration of his existence. 

The interview was not so trying an incident as Lothair anticipated, asoften under such circumstances occurs. Miss Arundel was not present;and, in the second place, although Lothair could not at first beinsensible to a change in the manner of Lady St. Jerome, as well asin that of her lord, exhibiting as it did a degree of deference andceremony which with her toward him were quite unusual, still the genial, gushing nature of this lively and enthusiastic woman, full of sympathy, soon asserted itself, and her heart was overflowing with sorrow for allhis sufferings and gratitude for his escape. 

"And, after all, " she said, "every thing must have been ordained; and, without these trials, and even calamities, that great event could nothave been brought about which must make all hail you as the most favoredof men. "

Lothair stared with a look of perplexity, and then said: "If I be themost favored of men, it is only because two angelic beings have deignedto minister to me in my sorrow, with a sweet devotion I can neverforget, and, alas! can never repay. "

CHAPTER 63

Lothair was not destined to meet Clare Arundel alone or only in thepresence of her family. He had acceded, after a short time, to the wishof Lady St. Jerome, and the advice of Monsignore Catesby, to wait on herin the evening, when Lady St. Jerome was always at home and never alone. Her rooms were the privileged resort of the very cream of Roman societyand of those English who, like herself, had returned to the RomanChurch. An Italian palace supplied an excellent occasion for the displayof the peculiar genius of our countrywomen to make a place habitable. Beautiful carpets, baskets of flowers and cases of ferns, andchairs which you could sit upon, tables covered with an infinity oftoys--sparkling, useful, and fantastic--huge silken screens of richcolor, and a profusion of light, produced a scene of combined comfortand brilliancy which made every one social who entered it, and seemed togive a bright and graceful turn even to the careless remarks of ordinarygossip. 

Lady St. Jerome rose the moment her eye caught the entry of Lothair, and, advancing, received him with an air of ceremony, mixed, however, with an expression of personal devotion which was distressing to him, and singularly contrasted with the easy and genial receptions that heremembered at Vauxe. Then Lady St. Jerome led Lothair to hercompanion whom she had just quitted, and presented him to the PrincessTarpeia-Cinque Cento, a dame in whose veins, it was said, flowed bothconsular and pontifical blood of the rarest tint. 

The Princess Tarpeia-Cinque Cento was the greatest lady in Rome; hadstill vast possessions--palaces and villas and vineyards and broadfarms. Notwithstanding all that had occurred, she still looked upon thekings and emperors of the world as the mere servants of the pope, and onthe old Roman nobility as still the conscript fathers of the world. Herother characteristic was superstition. So she was most distinguishedby an irrepressible haughtiness and an illimitable credulity. The onlysoftening circumstance was that, being in the hands of the Jesuits, herreligion did not assume an ascetic or gloomy character. She was fondof society, and liked to show her wondrous jewels, which were stillunrivalled, although she had presented his holiness in his troubles witha tiara of diamonds. 

There were rumors that the Princess Tarpeia-Cinque Cento had onoccasions treated even the highest nobility of England with a certainindifference; and all agreed that to laymen, however distinguished, her highness was not prone too easily to relax. But, in the presentinstance, it is difficult to convey a due conception of the graciousnessof her demeanor when Lothair bent before her. She appeared evenagitated, almost rose from her seat, and blushed through her rouge. LadySt. Jerome, guiding Lothair into her vacant seat, walked away. 

"We shall never forget what you have done for us, " said the princess toLothair. 

"I have done nothing, " said Lothair, with a surprised air. 

"Ali, that is so like gifted beings like you, " said the princess. "Theynever will think they have done any thing, even were they to save theworld. "

"You are too gracious, princess, " said Lothair; "I have no claims toesteem which all must so value. "

"Who has, if you have not?" rejoined the princess. "Yes, it is to you, and to you alone, that we must look. I am very impartial in what I say, for, to be frank, I have not been of those who believed that the greatchampion would rise without the patrimony of St. Peter. I am ashamed tosay that I have even looked with jealousy on the energy that has beenshown by individuals in other countries; but I now confess that I wasin error. I cannot resist this manifestation. It was a privilege tohave lived when it happened. All that we can do now is to cherish yourfavored life. "

"You are too kind, madam, " murmured the perplexed Lothair. 

"I have done nothing, " rejoined the princess, "and am ashamed that Ihave done nothing. But it is well for you, at this season, to be atRome; and you cannot be better, I am sure, than under this roof. But, when the spring breaks, I hope you will honor me, by accepting for youruse a villa which I have at Albano, and which, at that season, has manycharms. "

There were other Roman ladies in the room only inferior in rank andimportance to the Princess Tarpeia-Cinque Cento; and in the course ofthe evening, at their earnest request, they were made acquainted withLothair, for it cannot be said he was presented to them. These ladies, generally so calm, would not wait for the ordinary ceremony of life, but, as he approached to be introduced, sank to the ground with theobeisance offered only to royalty. 

There were some cardinals in the apartment and several monsignori. Catesby was there in close attendance on a pretty English countess, whohad just "gone over. " Her husband had been at first very much distressedat the event, and tore himself from the severe duties of the House ofLords, in the hope that he might yet arrive in time at Rome to saveher soul. But he was too late; and, strange to say, being of a domesticturn, and disliking family dissensions, he remained at Rome during therest of the session, and finally "went over" himself. 

Later in the evening arrived his eminence, Cardinal Berwick, for ourfriend had gained, and bravely gained, the great object of a churchman'sambition, and which even our Laud was thinking at one time of accepting, although he was to remain a firm Anglican. In the death-struggle betweenthe Church and the secret societies, Berwick had been the victor, and noone in the Sacred College more truly deserved the scarlet hat. 

His eminence had a reverence of radiant devotion for the PrincessTarpeia-Cinque Cento, a glance of friendship for Lady St. Jerome--forall, a courtly and benignant smile; but, when he recognized Lothair, he started forward, seized and retained his hand, and then seemedspeechless with emotion. "Ah! my comrade in the great struggle!" he atlength exclaimed; "this is, indeed, a pleasure--and to see you here!"

Early in the evening, while Lothair was sitting by the side of theprincess, his eye had wandered round the room, not unsuccessfully, insearch of Miss Arundel; and, when he was free, he would immediately haveapproached her, but she was in conversation with a Roman prince. Then, when she was for a moment free, he was himself engaged; and, at last, he had to quit abruptly a cardinal of taste, who was describing to him astatue just discovered in the baths of Diocletian, in order to seize theoccasion that again offered itself. 

Her manner was constrained when he addressed her, but she gave him herhand, which he pressed to his lips. Looking deeply into her violet eyes, he said: "You summoned me to meet you at Rome; I am here. "

"And I summoned you to other things, " she answered, at first withhesitation and a blush; but then, as if rallying herself to theperformance of a duty too high to allow of personal embarrassment, she added: "all of which you will perform, as becomes one favored byHeaven. "

"I have been favored by you, " said Lothair, speaking low and hurriedly;"to whom I owe my life, and more than my life. Yes, " he continued, "thisis not the scene I would have chosen to express my gratitude to youfor all that you have done for me, and my admiration of your sublimevirtues; but I can no longer repress the feelings of my heart, thoughtheir utterance be as inadequate as your deeds have been transcendent. "

"I was but the instrument of a higher power. "

"We are all instruments of a higher power, but the instruments chosenare always choice. "

"Ay, there it is!" said Miss Arundel; "and that is what I rejoice youfeel. For it is impossible that such a selection could have been made, as in your case, without your being reserved for great results. "

"I am but a shattered actor for great results, " said Lothair, shakinghis head. 

"You have had trials, " said Miss Arundel, "so had St. Ignatius, sohad St. Francis, and great temptations; but these are the tests ofcharacter, of will, of spiritual power--the fine gold is searched. Allthings that have happened have tended and have been ordained to one end, and that was to make you the champion of the Church of which you are nowmore than the child. "

"More than the child?"

"Indeed I think so. However, this is hardly the place and occasion todwell on such matters; and, indeed, I know your friends--myfriends equally--are desirous that your convalescence should not beunnecessarily disturbed by what must be, however delightful, stillagitating thoughts; but you touched yourself unexpectedly on the theme, and, at any rate, you will pardon one who has the inconvenient qualityof having only one thought. "

"Whatever you say or think must always interest me. "

"You are kind to say so. I suppose you know that our cardinal, CardinalGrandison, will be here in a few days?"

CHAPTER 64

Although the reception of Lothair by his old friends and by the leadersof the Roman world was in the highest degree flattering, there wassomething in its tone which was perplexing to him and ambiguous. Couldthey be ignorant of his Italian antecedents? Impossible. Miss Arundelhad admitted, or rather declared, that he had experienced great trials, and, even temptations. She could only allude to what had occurredsince their parting in England. But all this was now looked upon assatisfactory, because it was ordained, and tended to one end; and whatwas that end? His devotion to the Church of Rome, of which they admittedhe was not formally a child. 

It was true that his chief companion was a priest, and that he passed agreat portion of his life within the walls of a church. But the priestwas his familiar friend in England, who in a foreign land had nursedhim with devotion in a desperate illness; and, although in the greatcalamities, physical and moral, that had overwhelmed him, he had foundsolace in the beautiful services of a religion which he respected, noone for a moment had taken advantage of this mood of his suffering andenfeebled mind to entrap him into controversy, or to betray him intoadmissions that he might afterward consider precipitate and immature. Indeed, nothing could be more delicate than the conduct of the Jesuitfathers throughout his communications with them. They seemed sincerelygratified that a suffering fellow creature should find even temporaryconsolation within their fair and consecrated structure; their voicesmodulated with sympathy; their glances gushed with fraternal affection;their affectionate politeness contrived, in a thousand slight instances, the selection of a mass, the arrangement of a picture, the loan of abook, to contribute to the interesting or elegant distraction of hisforlorn and brooding being. 

And yet Lothair began to feel uneasy, and his uneasiness increasedproportionately as his health improved. He sometimes thought that heshould like to make an effort and get about a little in the world, buthe was very weak, and without any of the resources to which he had beenaccustomed throughout life. He had no servants of his own, no carriages, no man of business, no banker; and when at last he tried to bringhimself to write to Mr. Putney Giles--a painful task--Monsignore Catesbyoffered to undertake his whole correspondence for him, and announcedthat his medical attendants had declared that he must under nocircumstances whatever attempt at present to write a letter. Hitherto hehad been without money, which was lavishly supplied for his physiciansand other wants; and he would have been without clothes if themost fashionable tailor in Rome, a German, had not been in frequentattendance on him under the direction of Monsignore Catesby, who, infact, had organized his wardrobe as he did every thing else. 

Somehow or other Lothair never seemed alone. When he woke in the morningthe monsignore was frequently kneeling before an oratory in his room, and if by any chance Lothair was wanting at Lady St. Jerome's reception, Father Coleman, who was now on a visit to the family, would look inand pass the evening with him, as men who keep a gaming-table findit discreet occasionally to change the dealer. It is a huge and evenstupendous pile--that Palazzo Agostini, and yet Lothair never triedto thread his way through its vestibules and galleries, or attempt areconnaissance of its endless chambers, without some monsignore or othergliding up quite propos and relieving him from the dulness of solitaryexistence during the rest of his promenade. 

Lothair was relieved by hearing that big former guardian, CardinalGrandison, was daily expected at Rome; and he revolved in his mindwhether he should not speak to his eminence generally on the system ofhis life, which he felt now required some modification. In the interval, however, no change did occur. Lothair attended every day the servicesof the church, and every evening the receptions of Lady St. Jerome;and between the discharge of these two duties he took a drive witha priest--sometimes with more than one, but always most agreeablemen--generally in the environs of the city, or visited a convent, or avilla, some beautiful gardens, or a gallery of works of art. 

It was at Lady St. Jerome's that Lothair met his former guardian. Thecardinal had only arrived in the morning. His manner to Lothair wasaffectionate. He retained Lothair's hand and pressed it with his pale, thin fingers; his attenuated countenance blazed for a moment with adivine light. 

"I have long wished to see you, sir, " said Lothair, "and much wish totalk with you. "

"I can hear nothing from you nor of you but what must be most pleasingto me, " said the cardinal. 

"I wish I could believe that, " said Lothair. 

The cardinal caressed him; put his arm round Lothair's neck and said, "There is no time like the present. Let us walk together in thisgallery, " and they withdrew naturally from the immediate scene. 

"You know all that has happened, I dare say, " said Lothair withembarrassment and with a sigh, "since we parted in England, sir. "

"All, " said the cardinal. "It has been a most striking and mercifuldispensation. "

"Then I need not dwell upon it, " said Lothair, "and naturally it wouldbe most painful. What I wish particularly to speak to you about is myposition under this roof. What I owe to those who dwell under it nolanguage can describe, and no efforts on my part, and they shall beunceasing, can repay. But I think the time has come when I ought nolonger to trespass on their affectionate devotion, though, when I alludeto the topic, they seem to misinterpret the motives which influence me, and to be pained rather than relieved by my suggestions. I cannot bearbeing looked upon as ungrateful, when in fact I am devoted to them. Ithink, sir, you might help me in putting all this right. "

"If it be necessary, " said the cardinal; "but I apprehend youmisconceive them. When I last left Rome you were very ill, but Lady St. Jerome and others have written to me almost daily about you, during myabsence, so that I am familiar with all that has occurred, and quitecognizant of their feelings. Rest assured that, toward yourself, theyare exactly what they ought to be and what you would desire. "

"Well, I am glad, " said Lothair, "that you are acquainted with everything that has happened, for you can put them right if it be necessary;but I sometimes cannot help fancying that they are under some falseimpression both as to my conduct and my convictions. "

"Not in the slightest, " said the cardinal, "trust me, my dear friend, for that. They know everything and appreciate everything; and, greatas, no doubt, have been your sufferings, feel that every thing has beenordained for the best; that the hand of the Almighty has been visiblethroughout all these strange events; that His Church was nevermore clearly built upon a rock than at this moment; that this greatmanifestation will revive, and even restore, the faith of Christendom;and that you yourself must be looked upon as one of the most favored ofmen. "

"Everybody says that, " said Lothair, rather peevishly. 

"And everybody feels it, " said the cardinal. 

"Well, to revert to lesser points, " said Lothair, "I do not say I wantto return to England, for I dread returning to England, and do notknow whether I shall ever go back there; and at any rate I doubt notmy health at present is unequal to the effort; but I should like somechange in my mode of life. I will not say it is too much controlled, for nothing seems ever done without first consulting me; but, somehowor other, we are always in the same groove. I wish to see more of theworld; I wish to see Rome, and the people of Rome. I wish to see and domany things which, if I mention, it would seem to hurt the feelings ofothers, and my own are misconceived, but, if mentioned by you, all wouldprobably be different. "

"I understand you, my dear young friend, my child, I will still say, "said the cardinal. "Nothing can be more reasonable than what yousuggest. No doubt our friends may be a little too anxious about you, butthey are the best people in the world. You appear to me to be quite wellenough now to make more exertion than hitherto they have thought youcapable of. They see you every day, and cannot judge so well of you asI who have been absent. I will charge myself to effect all your wishes. And we will begin by my taking you out to-morrow and your driving withme about the city. I will show you Rome and the Roman people. "

Accordingly, on the morrow, Cardinal Grandison and his late pupilvisited together Rome and the Romans. And first of all Lothair waspresented to the cardinal-prefect of the Propaganda, who presides overthe ecclesiastical affairs of every country in which the Roman Churchhas a mission, and that includes every land between the Arctic and theSouthern Pole. This glimpse of the organized correspondence with boththe Americas, all Asia, all Africa, all Australia, and many Europeancountries, carried on by a countless staff of clerks in one of the mostcapacious buildings in the world, was calculated to impress the visitorwith a due idea of the extensive authority of the Roman Pontiff. Thisinstitution, greater, according to the cardinal, than any which existedin ancient Rome, was to propagate the faith, the purity of which thenext establishment they visited was to maintain. According to CardinalGrandison, there never was a body the character of which had beenso wilfully and so malignantly misrepresented as that of the RomanInquisition. Its true object is reformation not punishment and thereforepardon was sure to follow the admission of error. True it was therewere revolting stories afloat, for which there was undoubtedly somefoundation, though their exaggeration and malice were evident, of theruthless conduct of the Inquisition; but these details were entirelyconfined to Spain, and were the consequences not of the principles ofthe Holy Office, but of the Spanish race, poisoned by Moorish and Jewishblood, or by long contact with those inhuman infidels. Had it not beenfor the Inquisition organizing and directing the mitigating influencesof the Church, Spain would have been a land of wild beasts; and even inquite modern times it was the Holy Office at Rome which always steppedforward to protect the persecuted, and, by the power of appealfrom Madrid to Rome, saved the lives of those who were unjustly orextravagantly accused. 

"The real business, however, of the Holy Office now, " continued thecardinal, "is in reality only doctrinal; and there is something trulysublime--essentially divine, I would say--in this idea of an old man, like the Holy Father, himself the object of ceaseless persecution by allthe children of Satan, never for a moment relaxing his heaven-inspiredefforts to maintain the purity of the faith once delivered to thesaints, and at the same time to propagate it throughout the whole world, so that there should be no land on which the sun shines that should notafford means of salvation to suffering man. Yes, the Propaganda and theInquisition alone are sufficient to vindicate the sacred claims ofRome. Compared with them, mere secular and human institutions, howeverexalted, sink into insignificance. "

These excursions with the cardinal were not only repeated, but becamealmost of daily occurrence. The cardinal took Lothair with him in hisvisits of business, and introduced him to the eminent characters of thecity. Some of these priests were illustrious scholars or votaries ofscience, whose names were quoted with respect and as authority in thecircles of cosmopolitan philosophy. Then there were other institutionsat Rome, which the cardinal snatched occasions to visit, and which, if not so awfully venerable as the Propaganda and the Inquisition, nevertheless testified to the advanced civilization of Rome and theRomans, and the enlightened administration of the Holy Father. Accordingto Cardinal Grandison, all the great modern improvements in theadministration of hospitals and prisons originated in the eternal city;scientific ventilation, popular lavatories, the cellular or silentsystem, the reformatory. And yet these were nothing compared withthe achievements of the Pontifical Government in education. In short, complete popular education only existed at Rome. Its schools were morenumerous even than its fountains. Gratuitous instruction originatedwith the ecclesiastics; and from the night-school to the university heremight be found the perfect type. 

"I really believe, " said the cardinal, "that a more virtuous, a morereligious, a more happy and contented people than the Romans neverexisted. They could all be kept in order with the police of one of yourcounties. True it is, the Holy Father is obliged to garrison the citywith twelve thousand men of arms, but not against the Romans, notagainst his own subjects. It is the secret societies of atheism whohave established their lodges in this city, entirely consisting offoreigners, that render these lamentable precautions necessary. Theywill not rest until they have extirpated the religious principle fromthe soul of man, and until they have reduced him to the conditionof wild beasts. But they will fail, as they failed the other day, asSennacherib failed. These men may conquer zouaves and cuirassiers, butthey cannot fight against Saint Michael and all the angels. They may domischief, they may aggravate and prolong the misery of man, but they aredoomed to entire and eternal failure. "

CHAPTER 65

Lady St. Jerome was much interested in the accounts which the cardinaland Lothair gave her of their excursions in the city and their visits. 

"It is very true, " she said, "I never knew such good people; and theyought to be; so favored by Heaven, and leading a life which, if anything earthly can, must give them, however faint, some foretaste of ourjoys hereafter. Did your eminence visit the Pellegrini?" This was thehospital, where Miss Arundel had found Lothair. 

The cardinal looked grave. "No, " he replied. "My object was to securefor our young friend some interesting but not agitating distraction fromcertain ideas which, however admirable and transcendently important, are nevertheless too high and profound to permit their constantcontemplation with impunity to our infirm natures. Besides, " he added, in a lower, but still distinct tone, "I was myself unwilling to visitin a mere casual manner the scene of what I must consider the greatestevent of this century. "

"But you have been there?" inquired Lady St. Jerome. 

His eminence crossed himself. 

In the course of the evening Monsignore Catesby told Lothair that agrand service was about to be celebrated in the church of St. George:thanks were to be offered to the Blessed Virgin by Miss Arundel for themiraculous mercy vouchsafed to her in saving the life of a countryman, Lothair. "All her friends will make a point of being there, " added themonsignore, "even the Protestants and some Russians. Miss Arundel wasvery unwilling at first to fulfil this office, but the Holy Father hascommanded it. I know that nothing will induce her to ask you to attend;and yet, if I were you, I would turn it over in your mind. I know shesaid that she would sooner that you were present than all her Englishfriends together. However, you can think about it. One likes to do whatis proper. "

One does; and yet it is difficult. Sometimes, in doing what we thinkproper, we get into irremediable scrapes; and often, what we hold to beproper, society in its caprice resolves to be highly improper. 

Lady St. Jerome had wished Lothair to see Tivoli, and they were allconsulting together when they might go there. Lord St. Jerome who, besides his hunters, had his drag at Rome, wanted to drive them to theplace. Lothair sat opposite Miss Arundel, gazing on her beauty. It waslike being at Vauxe again. And yet a great deal had happened since theywere at Vauxe; and what? So far as they two were concerned, nothing butwhat should create or confirm relations of confidence and affection. Whatever may have been the influence of others on his existence, hersat least had been one of infinite benignity. She had saved his life; shehad cherished it. She had raised him from the lowest depth of physicaland moral prostration to health and comparative serenity. If at Vauxe hehad beheld her with admiration, had listened with fascinated interest tothe fervid expression of her saintly thoughts, and the large purposes ofher heroic mind, all these feelings were naturally heightened now whenhe had witnessed her lofty and consecrated spirit in action, and whenthat action in his own case had only been exercised for his ineffableadvantage. 

"Your uncle cannot go to-morrow, " continued Lady St. Jerome, "and onThursday I am engaged. "

"And on Friday--, " said Miss Arundel, hesitating. 

"We are all engaged, " said Lady St. Jerome. 

"I should hardly wish to go out before Friday anywhere, " said MissArundel, speaking to her aunt, and in a lower tone. 

Friday was the day on which the thanksgiving service was to becelebrated in the Jesuit church of St. George of Cappadocia. Lothairknew this well enough and was embarrassed: a thanksgiving for the mercyvouchsafed to Miss Arundel in saving the life of a fellow-countryman, anthat fellow-countryman not present! All her Protestant friends would bethere, and some Russians. And he not there! It seemed, on his part, the most ungracious and intolerable conduct. And he knew that she wouldprefer his presence to that of all her acquaintances together. It wasmore than ungracious on his part; it was ungrateful, almost inhuman. 

Lothair sat silent, and stupid, and stiff, and dissatisfied withhimself. Once or twice he tried to speak, but his tongue would not move, or his throat was not clear. And, if he had spoken, he would only havemade some trifling and awkward remark. In his mind's eye he saw, glidingabout him, the veiled figure of his sick-room, and he recalled withclearness the unceasing and angelic tenderness of which at the time heseemed hardly conscious. 

Miss Arundel had risen and had proceeded some way down the room to acabinet where she was accustomed to place her work. Suddenly Lothairrose and followed her. "Miss Arundel!" he said, and she looked round, hardly stopping when he had reached her. "Miss Arundel, I hope you willpermit me to be present at the celebration on Friday?"

She turned round quickly, extending, even eagerly, her hand withmantling cheek. Her eyes glittered with celestial fire. The wordshurried from her palpitating lips: "And support me, " she said, "for Ineed support. "

In the evening reception, Monsignore Catesby approached Father Coleman. "It is done, " he said, with a look of saintly triumph. "It is done atlast. He will not only be present, but he will support her. There areyet eight-and-forty hours to elapse. Can any thing happen to defeat us?It would seem not; yet, when so much is at stake, one is fearful. Hemust never be out of our sight; not a human being must approach him. "

"I think we can manage that, " said Father Coleman. 

CHAPTER 66

The Jesuit church of St. George of Cappadocia was situate in one ofthe finest piazzas of Rome. It was surrounded with arcades, and in itscentre the most beautiful fountain of the city spouted forth its streamsto an amazing height, and in forms of graceful fancy. On Friday morningthe arcades were festooned with tapestry and hangings of crimson velvetand gold. Every part was crowded, and all the rank and fashion andpower of Rome seemed to be there assembling. There had been once someintention on the part of the Holy Father to be present, but a slightindisposition had rendered that not desirable. His holiness, however, had ordered a company of his halberdiers to attend, and the ground waskept by those wonderful guards in the dress of the middle ages--halberdsand ruffs, and white plumes, and party-colored coats, a match for ourbeef-eaters. Carriages with scarlet umbrellas on the box, and eachwith three serving-men behind, denoted the presence of the cardinals inforce. They were usually brilliant equipages, being sufficiently new, orsufficiently new purchases, Garibaldi and the late commanding officerof Lothair having burnt most of the ancient coaches in the time of theRoman republics twenty years before. From each carriage an eminencedescended with his scarlet cap and his purple train borne by twoattendants. The Princess Tarpeia-Cinque Cento was there, and most of theRoman princes and princesses, and dukes, and duchesses. It seemed thatthe whole court of Rome was there--monsignori and prelates withoutend. Some of their dresses, and those of the generals of the orders, appropriately varied the general effect, for the ladies were all inblack, their heads covered only with black veils. 

Monsignore Catesby had arranged with Lothair that they should enter thechurch by their usual private way, and Lothair therefore was not in anydegree prepared for the sight which awaited him on his entrance into it. The church was crowded; not a chair nor a tribune vacant. There was asuppressed gossip going on as in a public place before a performancebegins, much fluttering of fans, some snuff taken, and many sugar-plums. 

"Where shall we find a place?" said Lothair. 

"They expect us in the sacristy, " said the monsignore. 

The sacristy of the Jesuit church of St. George of Cappadocia might haveserved for the ballroom of a palace. It was lofty, and proportionatelyspacious, with a grooved ceiling painted with all the court of heaven. Above the broad and richly-gilt cornice floated a company of seraphimthat might have figured as the Cupids of Albano. The apartment wascrowded, for there and in some adjoining chambers were assembledthe cardinals and prelates, and all the distinguished or officialcharacters, who, in a few minutes, were about to form a procession ofalmost unequal splendor and sanctity, and which was to parade the wholebody of the church. 

Lothair felt nervous; an indefinable depression came over him, as on themorning of a contest when a candidate enters his crowded committee-room. Considerable personages, bowing, approached to address him--the CardinalPrefect of the Propaganda, the Cardinal Assessor of the Holy Office, the Cardinal Pro-Datario, and the Cardinal Vicar of Rome. Monsignori theSecretary of Briefs to Princes and the Master of the Apostolic Palacewere presented to him. Had this been a conclave, and Lothair the futurepope, it would have been impossible to have treated him with moreconsideration than he experienced. They assured him that they lookedupon this day as one of the most interesting in their lives, and theimportance of which to the Church could not be overrated. All thissomewhat encouraged him, and he was more himself when a certain generalstir, and the entrance of individuals from adjoining apartments, intimated that the proceedings were about to commence. It seemeddifficult to marshal so considerable and so stately an assemblage, but those who had the management of affairs were experienced in suchmatters. The acolytes and the thurifers fell into their places; thereseemed no end of banners and large golden crosses; great was the companyof the prelates--a long purple line, some only in cassocks, some inrobes, and mitred; then came a new banner of the Blessed Virgin, whichexcited intense interest, and every eye was strained to catch thepictured scene. After this banner, amid frequent incense, walked twoof the most beautiful children in Rome, dressed as angels with goldenwings; the boy bearing a rose of Jericho, the girl a lily. After these, as was understood, dressed in black and veiled, walked six ladies, whowere said to be daughters of the noblest houses of England, and then asingle form with a veil touching the ground. 

"Here we must go, " said Monsignore Catesby to Lothair, and he gentlybut irresistibly pushed him into his place. "You know you promised tosupport her. You had better take this, " he said, thrusting a lightedtaper into his hand; "it is usual, and one should never be singular. "

So they walked on, followed by the Roman princes, bearing a splendidbaldachin. And then came the pomp of the cardinals, each with histrain-bearers, exhibiting with the skill of artists the splendor oftheir violet robes. 

As the head of the procession emerged from the sacristy into the church, three organs and a choir, to which all the Roman churches had lent theirchoicest voices, burst into the Te Deum. Round the church and to all thechapels, and then up the noble nave, the majestic procession moved, andthen, the gates of the holy place opening, the cardinals entered andseated themselves, their train-bearers crouching at their knees, theprelates grouped themselves, and the banners and crosses were ranged inthe distance, except the new banner of the Virgin, which seemed to hangover the altar. The Holy One seemed to be in what was recently a fieldof battle, and was addressing a beautiful maiden in the dress of aSister of Mercy. 

"This is your place, " said Monsignore Catesby, and he pushed Lothairinto a prominent position. 

The service was long, but, sustained by exquisite music, celestialperfumes, and the graceful movements of priests in resplendent dressescontinually changing, it could not be said to be wearisome. When all wasover, Monsignore Catesby said to Lothair, "I think we had better returnby the public way; it seems expected. "

It was not easy to leave the church. Lothair was detained, and receivedthe congratulations of the Princess Tarpeia-Cinque Cento and manyothers. The crowd, much excited by the carriages of the cardinals, hadnot diminished when they came forth, and they were obliged to lingersome little time upon the steps, the monsignore making difficulties whenLothair more than once proposed to advance. 

"I think we may go now, " said Catesby, and they descended into thepiazza. Immediately many persons in this immediate neighborhood fellupon their knees, many asked a blessing from Lothair, and some rushedforward to kiss the hem of his garment. 

CHAPTER 67

The Princess Tarpeia-Cinque Cento gave an entertainment in the eveningin honor of "the great event. " Italian palaces are so vast, are soill-adapted to the moderate establishments of modern tones, that theirgrand style in general only impresses those who visit them with afeeling of disappointment and even mortification. The meagre retinue arealmost invisible as they creep about the corridors and galleries, andlinger in the sequence of lofty chambers. These should be filled withcrowds of serving-men and groups of splendid retainers. They were builtfor the days when a great man was obliged to have a great following;and when the safety of his person, as well as the success of his career, depended on the number and the lustre of his train. 

The palace of the Princess Tarpeia was the most celebrated in Rome, oneof the most ancient, and certainly the most beautiful. She dwelt in itin a manner not unworthy of her consular blood and her modern income. To-night her guests were received by a long line of foot-servants inshowy liveries, and bearing the badge of her house, while in everyconvenient spot pages and gentlemen-ushers, in courtly dress, guided theguests to their place of destination. The palace blazed with light, andshowed to advantage the thousand pictures which, it is said, were thereenshrined, and the long galleries full of the pale statues of Greciangods and goddesses, and the busts of the former rulers of Rome andthe Romans. The atmosphere was fragrant with rare odors, and music washeard, amid the fall of fountains, in the dim but fancifully-illuminedgardens. 

The princess herself wore all those famous jewels which had been sparedby all the Goths from the days of Brennus to those of Garibaldi, and onher bosom reposed the celebrated transparent cameo of Augustus, whichCaesar himself is said to have presented to Livia, and which BenvenutoCellini had set in a framework of Cupids and rubies. If the weight ofher magnificence were sometimes distressing, she had the consolation ofbeing supported by the arm of Lothair. 

Two young Roman princes, members of the Guarda Nobile, discussed thesituation. 

"The English here say, " said one, "that he is their richest man. "

"And very noble, too, " said the other. 

"Certainly, truly noble--a kind of cousin of the queen. "

"This great event must have an effect upon all their nobility. I cannotdoubt they will all return to the Holy Father. "

"They would if they were not afraid of having to restore their churchlands. But they would be much more happy if Rome were again the capitalof the world. "

"No shadow of doubt. I wonder if this young prince will hunt in theCampagna?"

"All Englishmen hunt. "

"I make no doubt he rides well, and has famous horses, and willsometimes lend us one. I am glad his soul is saved. "

"Yes; it is well, when the Blessed Virgin interferes, it should be infavor of princes. When princes become good Christians, it is an example. It does good. And this man will give an impulse to our opera, whichwants it, and, as you say, he will have many horses. "

In the course of the evening, Miss Arundel, with a beaming face, but ofdeep expression, said to Lothair: "I could tell you some good news, had I not promised the cardinal that he should communicate it to youhimself. He will see you to-morrow. Although it does not affect mepersonally, it will be to me the happiest event that ever occurred, except, of course, one. "

"What can she mean?" thought Lothair. But at that moment CardinalBerwick approached him, and Miss Arundel glided away. 

Father Coleman attended Lothair home to the Agostini Palace, and whenthey parted said, with much emphasis, "I must congratulate you once moreon the great event. "

On the following morning, Lothair found on his table a number of theRoman journal published that day. It was customary to place it there, but in general he only glanced at it, and scarcely that. On the presentoccasion his own name caught immediately his eye. It figured in along account of the celebration of the preceding day. It was with acontinually changing countenance, now scarlet, now pallid as death;with a palpitating heart, a trembling hand, a cold perspiration, and, atlength, a disordered vision, that Lothair read the whole of an article, of which we now give a summary:

"Rome was congratulated on the service of yesterday, which celebratedthe greatest event of this century. And it came to pass in this wise. It seems that a young English noble of the highest rank, family, and fortune" (and here the name and titles of Lothair were accurately given), "like many of the scions of the illustrious and influential families ofBritain, was impelled by an irresistible motive to enlist as a volunteerin the service of the pope, when the Holy Father was recently-attackedby the secret societies of atheism. This gallant and gifted youth, afterprodigies of valor and devotion, had fallen at Mentana in the sacredcause, and was given up for lost. The day after the battle, when theambulances laden with the wounded were hourly arriving at Rome from thefield, an English lady, daughter of an illustrious house, celebratedthroughout centuries for its devotion to the Holy See, and who duringthe present awful trial had never ceased in her efforts to support thecause of Christianity, was employed, as was her wont, in offices ofcharity, and was tending, with her companion sisters, her woundedcountrymen at the Hospital La Consolazione, in the new ward which hasbeen recently added to that establishment by the Holy Father. 

"While she was leaning over one of the beds, she felt a gentle andpeculiar pressure on her shoulder, and, looking round, beheld a mostbeautiful woman, with a countenance of singular sweetness and yetmajesty. And the visitor said: 'You are attending to those English whobelieve in the Virgin Mary. Now at the Hospital Santissima Trinita diPellegrini there is in an ambulance a young Englishman apparently dead, but who will not die if you go to him immediately and say you came inthe name of the Virgin. '

"The influence of the stranger was so irresistible that the youngEnglish lady, attended by a nurse and one of the porters of LaConsolazione, repaired instantly to the Di Pellegrini, and there theyfound in the court-yard, as they had been told, an ambulance, in formand color and equipment unlike any ambulance used by the papal troops, and in the ambulance the senseless body of a youth, who was recognizedby the English lady as her young and gallant countryman. She claimedhim in the name of the Blessed Virgin, and, after due remedies, waspermitted to take him at once to his noble relatives, who lived in thePalazzo Agostini. 

"After a short time much conversation began to circulate about thisincident. The family wished to testify their gratitude to the individualwhose information had led to the recovery of the body, and subsequentlyof the life of their relation; but all that they could at first learnat La Consolazione was, that the porter believed the woman was MariaSerafina di Angelis, the handsome wife of a tailor in the Strada diRipetta. But it was soon shown that this could not be true, for it wasproved that, on the day in question, Maria Serafina di Angelis was on avisit to a friend at La Riccia; and, in the second place, that she didnot bear the slightest resemblance to the stranger who had given thenews. Moreover, the porter of the gate being required to state why hehad admitted any stranger without the accustomed order, denied that hehad so done; that he was in his lodge and the gates were locked, and thestranger had passed through without his knowledge. 

"Two priests were descending the stairs when the stranger came uponthem, and they were so struck by the peculiarity of her carriage, thatthey turned round and looked at her, and clearly observed at the back ofher head a sort of halo. She was out of their sight when they made thisobservation, but in consequence of it they made inquiries of the porterof the gate, and remained in the court-yard till she returned. 

"This she did a few minutes before the English lady and her attendantscame down, as they had been detained by the preparation of some bandagesand other remedies, without which they never moved. The porter of thegate having his attention called to the circumstance by the priests, was most careful in his observations as to the halo, and described itas most distinct. The priests then followed the stranger, who proceededdown a long and solitary street, made up in a great degree of garden andconvent walls, and without a turning. They observed her stop and speakto two or three children, and then, though there was no house to enterand no street to turn into, she vanished. 

"When they had reached the children they found each of them holding inits hand a beautiful flower. It seems the lady had given the boy a roseof Jericho, and to his sister a white and golden lily. Inquiring whethershe had spoken to them, they answered that she had said, 'Let theseflowers be kept in remembrance of me; they will never fade. ' And truly, though months had elapsed, these flowers had never failed, and, afterthe procession of yesterday, they were placed under crystal in thechapel of the Blessed Virgin in the Jesuit Church of St. George ofCappadocia, and may be seen every day, and will be seen forever inprimeval freshness. 

"This is the truthful account of what really occurred with respect tothis memorable event, and as it was ascertained by a consulta of theHoly Office, presided over by the cardinal prefect himself. The HolyOffice is most severe in its inquisition of the truth, and, though itwell knows that the Divine presence never leaves His Church, it is mostscrupulous in its investigations whenever any miraculous interpositionis alleged. It was entirely by its exertions that the somewhatinconsistent and unsatisfactory evidence of the porter of the gate, inthe first instance, was explained, cleared, and established; the wholechain of evidence worked out; all idle gossip and mere rumors rejected;and the evidence obtained of above twenty witnesses of all ranksof life, some of them members of the learned profession, and othersmilitary officers of undoubted honor and veracity, who witnessed thefirst appearance of the stranger at the Pellegrini and the undoubtedfact of the halo playing round her temples. 

"The consulta of the Holy Office could only draw one inference, sanctioned by the Holy Father himself, as to the character of thepersonage who thus deigned to appear; and interpose; and no wonder that, in the great function of yesterday, the eyes of all Rome were fixed uponLothair as the most favored of living men. "

He himself now felt as one sinking into an unfathomable abyss. Thedespair came over him that involves a man engaged in a hopeless contestwith a remorseless power. All his life during the last year passedrushingly across his mind. He recalled the wiles that had been employedto induce him to attend a function in a Jesuits' chapel, in an obscurenook of London; the same agencies had been employed there; then, as now, the influence of Clare Arundel had been introduced to sway him when allothers had failed. Belmont had saved him then. There was no Belmont now. The last words of Theodora murmured in his ear like the awful voice ofa distant sea. They were the diapason of all the thought and feeling ofthat profound and passionate spirit. 

That seemed only a petty plot in London, and he had since sometimessmiled when he remembered how it had been baffled. Shallow apprehension!The petty plot was only part of a great and unceasing and triumphantconspiracy, and the obscure and inferior agencies which he had been rashenough to deride had consummated their commanded purpose in the eyes ofall Europe, and with the aid of the great powers of the world. 

He felt all the indignation natural to a sincere and high-spirited man, who finds that he has been befooled by those whom he has trustee; but, summoning all his powers to extricate himself from his desolate dilemma, he found himself without resource. What public declaration on his partcould alter the undeniable fact, now circulating throughout the world, that in the supernatural scene of yesterday he was the willing and theprincipal actor? Unquestionably he had been very imprudent, not onlyin that instance, but in his habitual visits to the church; he felt allthat now. But he was tom and shattered, infinitely distressed, both inbody and in mind; weak and miserable; and he thought he was leaningon angelic hearts, when he found himself in the embrace of spirits ofanother sphere. 

In what a position of unexampled pain did he not now find himself! Tofeel it your duty to quit the faith in which you have been bred mustinvolve an awful pang; but to be a renegade without the consolationof conscience, against your sense, against your will, alike forno celestial hope and no earthly object--this was agony mixed withself-contempt. 

He remembered what Lady Corisande had once said to him about those whoquitted their native church for the Roman communion. What would she saynow? He marked in imagination the cloud of sorrow on her imperial browand the scorn of her curled lip. 

Whatever happened, he could never return to England--at least formany years, when all the things and persons he cared for would havedisappeared or changed, which is worse; and then what would be the useof returning? He would go to America, or Australia, or the Indian Ocean, or the interior of Africa; but even in all these places, according tothe correspondence of the Propaganda, he would find Roman priests, andactive priests. He felt himself a lost man; not free from faults in thismatter, but punished beyond his errors. But this is the fate of men whothink they can struggle successfully with a supernatural power. 

A servant opened a door and said, in a loud voice, that, with hispermission, his eminence, the English cardinal, would wait on him. 

CHAPTER 68

It is proverbial to what drowning men will cling. Lothair, in hisutter hopelessness, made a distinction between the cardinal and theconspirators. The cardinal had been absent from Rome during the greaterportion of the residence of Lothair in that city. The cardinal was hisfather's friend, an English gentleman, with an English education, oncean Anglican, a man of the world, a man of honor, a good, kind-heartedman. Lothair explained the apparent and occasional cooperation of hiseminence with the others, by their making use of him without a dueconsciousness of their purpose on his part. Lothair remembered howdelicately his former guardian had always treated the subject ofreligion in their conversations. The announcement of his visit, instead of aggravating the distresses of Lothair, seemed, as all theseconsiderations rapidly occurred to him, almost to impart a ray of hope. 

"I see, " said the cardinal, as he entered serene and graceful as usual, and glancing at the table, "that you have been reading the account ofour great act of yesterday. "

"Yes; and I have been reading it, " said Lothair, reddening, "withindignation; with alarm; I should add, with disgust. "

"How is this?" said the cardinal, feeling or affecting surprise. 

"It is a tissue of falsehood and imposture, " continued Lothair; "and Iwill take care that my opinion is known of it. "

"Do nothing rashly, " said the cardinal. "This is an official journal, and I have reason to believe that nothing appears in it which is notdrawn up, or well considered, by truly pious men. "

"You yourself, sir, must know, " continued Lothair, "that the whole ofthis statement is founded on falsehood. "

"Indeed, I should be sorry to believe, " said the cardinal, "that therewas a particle of misstatement, or even exaggeration, either in the baseor the superstructure of the narrative. "

"Good God!" exclaimed Lothair. "Why, take the very first allegation, that I fell at Mentana, fighting in the ranks of the Holy Father. Everyone knows that I fell fighting against him, and that I was almostslain by one of his chassepots. It is notorious; and though, as a matterof taste, I have not obtruded the fact in the society in which I havebeen recently living, I have never attempted to conceal it, and have notthe slightest doubt that it must be as familiar to every member of thatsociety as to your eminence. "

"I know there are two narratives of your relations with the battle ofMentana, " observed the cardinal, quietly. "The one accepted as authenticis that which appears in this journal; the other account, which can onlybe traced to yourself, bears no doubt a somewhat different character;but considering that it is in the highest degree improbable, andthat there is not a tittle of confirmatory or collateral evidence toextenuate its absolute unlikelihood, I hardly think you are justifiedin using, with reference to the statement in this article, the harshexpression, which I am persuaded, on reflection, you will feel you havehastily used. "

"I think, " said Lothair, with a kindling eye and a burning cheek, "thatI am the best judge of what I did at Mentana. "

"Well, well, " said the cardinal, with dulcet calmness, "you naturallythink so; but you must remember you have been very ill, my dear youngfriend, and laboring under much excitement. If I were you--and I speakas your friend, I hope your best one--I would not dwell too much on thisfancy of yours about the battle of Mentana. I would myself always dealtenderly with a fixed idea: harsh attempts to terminate hallucinationare seldom successful. Nevertheless, in the case of a public event, amatter of fact, if a man finds that he is of one opinion, and allorders of society of another, he should not be encouraged to dwell on aperverted view; he should be gradually weaned from it. "

"You amaze me!" said Lothair. 

"Not at all, " said the cardinal. "I am sure you will benefit by myadvice. And you must already perceive that, assuming the interpretationwhich the world without exception places on your conduct in the field tobe the just one, there really is not a single circumstance in the wholeof this interesting and important statement, the accuracy of which youyourself would for a moment dispute. "

"What is there said about me at Mentana makes me doubt of all the rest, "said Lothair. 

"Well, we will not dwell on Mentana, " said the cardinal, with a sweetsmile; "I have treated of that point. Your case is by no means anuncommon one. It will wear off with returning health. King George IVbelieved that he was at the battle of Waterloo, and indeed commandedthere; and his friends were at one time a little alarmed; but Knighton, who was a sensible man, said, 'His majesty has only to leave offCuracao, and rest assured he will gain no more victories. ' The rest ofthis statement, which is to-day officially communicated to the wholeworld, and which in its results will probably be not less important eventhan the celebration of the centenary of St. Peter, is established byevidence so incontestable--by witnesses so numerous, so various--in allthe circumstances and accidents of testimony so satisfactory--I maysay so irresistible, that controversy on this head would be a mereimpertinence and waste of time. "

"I am not convinced, " said Lothair. 

"Hush!" said the cardinal; "the freaks of your own mind about personalincidents, however lamentable, may be viewed with indulgence--at leastfor a time. But you cannot be permitted to doubt of the rest. You mustbe convinced, and on reflection you will be convinced. Remember, sir, where you are. You are in the centre of Christendom, where truth, andwhere alone truth resides. Divine authority has perused this paper andapproved it. It is published for the joy and satisfaction of twohundred millions of Christians, and for the salvation of all those who, unhappily for themselves, are not yet converted to the faith. Itrecords the most memorable event of this century. Our Blessed Lady haspersonally appeared to her votaries before during that period, butnever at Rome. Wisely and well she has worked in villages and among theilliterate as at the beginning did her Divine Son. But the time is nowripe for terminating the infidelity of the world. In the eternal city, amid all its matchless learning and profound theology, in the sight ofthousands, this great act has been accomplished, in a manner which canadmit of no doubt, and which can lead to no controversy. Some of themost notorious atheists of Rome have already solicited to be admittedto the offices of the Church; the secret societies have received theirdeathblow; I look to the alienation of England as virtually over. I ampanting to see you return to the home of your fathers, and re-conquer itfor the Church in the name of the Lord God of Sabaoth. Never was aman in a greater position since Godfrey or Ignatius. The eyes of allChristendom are upon you as the most favored of men, and you stand therelike Saint Thomas. "

"Perhaps he was as bewildered as I am, " said Lothair. 

"Well, his bewilderment ended in his becoming an apostle, as yours will. I am glad we have had this conversation, and that we agree; I knew weshould. But now I wish to speak to you on business, and very grave. Theworld assumes that, being the favored of Heaven, you are naturally andnecessarily a member of the Church. I, your late guardian, know that isnot the case, and sometimes I blame myself that it is not so. But I haveever scrupulously refrained from attempting to control your convictions;and the result has justified me. Heaven has directed your life, and Ihave now to impart to you the most gratifying intelligence that can becommunicated by man, and that the Holy Father will to-morrow himselfreceive you into the bosom of that Church of which he is the divinehead. Christendom will then hail you as its champion and regenerator, and thus will be realized the divine dream with which you were inspiredin our morning walk in the park at Vauxe. "

CHAPTER 69

It was the darkest hour in Lothair's life. He had become acquainted withsorrow; he had experienced calamities physical and moral. The death ofTheodora had shaken him to the centre. It was that first great griefwhich makes a man acquainted with his deepest feelings, which detractssomething from the buoyancy of the youngest life, and dims, to a certaindegree, the lustre of existence. But even that bereavement was mitigatedby distractions alike inevitable and ennobling. The sternest and highestof all obligations, military duty, claimed him with an unfalteringgrasp, and the clarion sounded almost as he closed her eyes. Then hewent forth to struggle for a cause which at least she believed to bejust and sublime; and if his own convictions on that head might be lessassured or precise, still there was doubtless much that was inspiringin the contest, and much dependent on the success of himself and hiscomrades that tended to the elevation of man. 

But, now, there was not a single circumstance to sustain his involvedand sinking life. A renegade--a renegade without conviction, withoutnecessity, in absolute violation of the pledge he had given to theperson he most honored and most loved, as he received her partingspirit. And why was all this? and bow was all this? What system ofsorcery had encompassed his existence? For he was spell-bound--as muchas any knight in fairy-tale whom malignant influences had robbed of hisvalor and will and virtue. No sane person could credit, even comprehend, his position. Had he the opportunity of stating it in a court of justiceto-morrow, he could only enter into a narrative which would decidehis lot as an insane being. The magical rites had been so gradual, sosubtle, so multifarious, all in appearance independent of each other, though in reality scientifically combined, that, while the conspiratorshad probably effected his ruin both in body and in soul, the onlycharges he could make against them would be acts of exquisite charity, tenderness, self-sacrifice, personal devotion, refined piety, andreligious sentiment of the most exalted character. 

What was to be done? And could any thing be done? Could he escape? Wherefrom and where to? He was certain, and had been for some time, from manycircumstances, that he was watched. Could he hope that the vigilancewhich observed all his movements would scruple to prevent any whichmight be inconvenient? He felt assured that, to quit that palace alone, was not in his power. And were it, whither could he go? To whom was heto appeal? And about what was he to appeal? Should he appeal to the HolyFather? There would be an opportunity for that to-morrow. To the Collegeof Cardinals, who had solemnized yesterday with gracious unction hisspiritual triumph? To those congenial spirits, the mild Assessor of theInquisition, or the president of the Propaganda, who was busied atthat moment in circulating throughout both the Americas, all Asia, all Africa, all Australia, and parts of Europe, for the edification ofdistant millions, the particulars of the miraculous scene in which hewas the principal actor? Should he throw himself on the protection ofthe ambiguous minister of the British crown, and invoke his aid againsta conspiracy touching the rights, reason, and freedom of one of hermajesty's subjects? He would probably find that functionary inditing aprivate letter to the English Secretary of State, giving the ministera graphic account of the rare doings of yesterday, and assuring theminister, from his own personal and ocular experience, that a memberof one of the highest orders of the British peerage carried in theprocession a lighted taper after two angels with amaranthine flowers andgolden wings. 

Lothair remained in his apartments; no one approached him. It was theonly day that the monsignore had not waited on him. Father Coleman wasequally reserved. Strange to say, not one of those agreeable and politegentlemen, fathers of the oratory, who talked about gems, torsos, andexcavations, and who always more or less attended his levee, troubledhim this morning. With that exquisite tact which pervades thehierarchical circles of Rome, every one felt that Lothair, on the eve ofthat event of his life which Providence had so long and so mysteriouslyprepared, would wish to be undisturbed. 

Restless, disquieted, revolving all the incidents of his last year, trying, by terrible analysis, to ascertain how he ever could have gotinto such a false position, and how he could yet possibly extricatehimself from it, not shrinking in many things from self-blame, and yetnot recognizing on his part such a degree of deviation from the standardof right feeling, or even of commonsense, as would authorize suchan overthrow as that awaiting him--high rank and boundless wealth, astation of duty and of honor, some gifts of Nature, and golden youth, and a disposition that at least aspired, in the employment of these, accidents of life and fortune, at something better than selfishgratification, all smashed--the day drew on. 

Drew on the day, and every hour it seemed his spirit was more loneand dark. For the first time the thought of death occurred to him as arelief from the perplexities of existence. How much better had he diedat Mentana! To this pass had arrived the cordial and brilliant Lord ofMuriel, who enjoyed and adorned life, and wished others to adorn andto enjoy it; the individual whom, probably, were the majority of theEnglish people polled, they would have fixed upon as filling the mostenviable of all positions, and holding out a hope that he was notunworthy of it. Born with every advantage that could command thesympathies of his fellow-men, with a quick intelligence and a nobledisposition, here he was at one-and-twenty ready to welcome death, perhaps even to devise it, as the only rescue from a doom of confusion, degradation, and remorse. 

He had thrown himself on a sofa, and had buried his face in his hands toassist the abstraction which he demanded. There was not an incident ofhis life that escaped the painful inquisition of his memory. He passedhis childhood once more in that stern Scotch home, that, after all, hadbeen so kind, and, as it would seem, so wise. The last words of counseland of warning from his uncle, expressed at Muriel, came back to him. And yet there seemed a destiny throughout these transactions which was;irresistible! The last words of Theodora, her look, even more solemnthan her tone, might have been breathed over a tripod, for they were aprophecy, not a warning. 

How long he had been absorbed in this passionate reverie he knew notbut when he looked up again it was night, and the moon had touched hiswindow. He rose and walked up and down the room, and then went intothe corridor. All was silent; not an attendant was visible; the sky wasclear and starry, and the moonlight fell on the tall, still cypresses inthe vast quadrangle. 

Lothair leaned over the balustrade and gazed upon the moonlit fountains. The change of scene, silent and yet not voiceless, and the softeningspell of the tranquillizing hour, were a relief to him. And after a timehe wandered about the corridors, and after a time he descended into thecourt. The tall Swiss, in his grand uniform, was closing the gates whichhad just released a visitor. Lothair motioned that he too wished to goforth, and the Swiss obeyed him. The threshold was passed, and Lothairfound himself for the first time alone in Rome. 

Utterly reckless, he cared not where he went or what might happen. The streets were quite deserted, and he wandered about with a strangecuriosity, gratified as he sometimes encountered famous objects he hadread of, and yet the true character of which no reading ever realizes. 

The moonlight becomes the proud palaces of Rome, their corniced andbalconied fronts rich with deep shadows in the blaze. Sometimes heencountered an imperial column; sometimes he came to an arcadian squareflooded with light and resonant with the fall of statued fountains. Emerging from a long, straggling street of convents and gardens, hefound himself in an open space full of antique ruins, and among them theform of a colossal amphitheatre that he at once recognized. 

It rose with its three tiers of arches and the huge wall that crownsthem, black and complete in the air; and not until Lothair had enteredit could he perceive the portion of the outer wall that was in ruins, and now bathed with the silver light. Lothair was alone. In thathuge creation, once echoing with the shouts, and even the agonies, ofthousands, Lothair was alone. 

He sat him down on a block of stone in that sublime and desolate arena, and asked himself the secret spell of this Rome that had already soagitated his young life, and probably was about critically to affect it. Theodora lived for Rome and died for Rome. And the cardinal, born andbred an English gentleman, with many hopes and honors, had renounced hisreligion, and, it might be said, his country, for Rome. And for Rome, to-morrow, Catesby would die without a pang, and sacrifice himself forRome, as his race for three hundred years had given, for the same cause, honor and broad estates and unhesitating lives. And these very peoplewere influenced by different motives, and thought they were devotingthemselves to opposite ends. But still it was Rome--republican orCaesarian, papal or pagan, it still was Rome. 

Was it a breeze in a breezeless night that was sighing amid these ruins?A pine-tree moved its head on a broken arch, and there was a stiramong the plants that hung on the ancient walls. It was a breeze in abreezeless night that was sighing amid the ruins. 

There was a tall crag of ancient building contiguous to the blockon which Lothair was seated, and which on his arrival he had noted, although, long lost in reverie, he had not recently turned his glance inthat direction. He was roused from that reverie by the indefinite senseof some change having occurred which often disturbs and terminates one'sbrooding thoughts. And looking round, he felt, he saw, he was no longeralone. The moonbeams fell upon a figure that was observing him from thecrag of ruin that was near, and, as the light clustered and gatheredround the form, it became every moment more definite and distinct. 

Lothair would have sprung forward, but he could only extend his arms: hewould have spoken, but his tongue was paralyzed. 

"Lothair, " said a deep, sweet voice that never could be forgotten. 

"I am here, " he at last replied. 

"Remember!" and she threw upon him that glance, at once serene andsolemn, that had been her last, and was impressed indelibly upon hisheart of hearts. 

Now, he could spring forward and throw himself at her feet, but alas!as he reached her, the figure melted into the moonlight, and she wasgone--that divine Theodora, who, let us hope, returned at last to thoseElysian fields she so well deserved. 

CHAPTER 70

"They have overdone it, Gertrude, with Lothair, " said Lord Jerome tohis wife. "I spoke to Monsignore Catesby about it some time ago, buthe would not listen to me; I had more confidence in the cardinal and amdisappointed; but a priest is ever too hot. His nervous system has beentried too much. "

Lady St. Jerome still hoped the best, and believed in it. She wasprepared to accept the way Lothair was found senseless in the Coliseumas a continuance of miraculous interpositions. He might have remainedthere for a day or days, and never have been recognized when discovered. How marvelously providential that Father Coleman should have been in thevicinity, and tempted to visit the great ruin that very night!

Lord St. Jerome was devout, and easy in his temper. Priests and womenseemed to have no difficulty in managing him. But he was an Englishgentleman, and there was at the bottom of his character a fund ofcourage, firmness, and commonsense, that sometimes startled andsometimes perplexed those who assumed that he could be easilycontrolled. He was not satisfied with the condition of Lothair, "a peerof England and my connection;" and he had not unlimited confidencein those who had been hitherto consulted as to his state. There was acelebrated English physician at that time visiting Rome, and Lord St. Jerome, notwithstanding the multiform resistance of Monsignors Catesby, insisted he should be called in to Lothair. 

The English physician was one of those men who abhor priests, and donot particularly admire ladies. The latter, in revenge, denounced hismanners as brutal, though they always sent for him, and were alwaystrying, though vainly, to pique him into sympathy. He rarely spoke, but he listened to every one with entire patience. He sometimes asked aquestion, but he never made a remark. 

Lord St. Jerome had seen the physician, alone before he visited thePalazzo Agostini, and had talked to him freely about Lothair. Thephysician saw at once that Lord St. Jerome was truthful, and that, though his intelligence might be limited, it was pure and direct. Appreciating Lord St. Jerome, that nobleman found the redoubtable doctornot ungenial, and assured his wife that she would meet on the morrowby no means so savage a being as she anticipated. She received himaccordingly, and in the presence of Monsignore Catesby. Never had sheexercised her distinguished powers of social rhetoric with more artand fervor, and never apparently had they proved less productive of theintended consequences. The physician said not a word, and merely bowedwhen exhausted Nature consigned the luminous and impassioned Lady St. Jerome to inevitable silence. Monsignore Catesby felt he was bound inhonor to make some diversion in her favor; repeat some of her unansweredinquiries, and reiterate some of her unnoticed views; but the onlyreturn he received was silence, without a bow, and then the physicianremarked, "I presume I can now see the patient. "

The English physician was alone with Lothair for some time, and thenhe met in consultation the usual attendants. The result of all theseproceedings was that he returned to the saloon, in which he found Lordand Lady St. Jerome, Monsignore Catesby, and Father Coleman, and he thensaid: "My opinion is, that his lordship should quit Rome immediately, and I think he had better return at once to his own country. "

All the efforts of the English Propaganda were now directed to preventthe return of Lothair to his own country. The cardinal and Lady St. Jerome, and the monsignore, and Father Coleman, all the beautiful youngcountesses who had "gone over" to Rome, and all the spirited youngearls who had come over to bring their wives back, but had unfortunatelyremained themselves, looked very serious, and spoke much in whispers. Lord St. Jerome was firm that Lothair should immediately leave the city, and find that change of scene and air which were declared by authorityto be indispensable for his health, both of mind and body. But hisreturn to England, at this moment, was an affair of serious difficulty. He could not return unattended, and attended, too, by some intimateand devoted friend. Besides, it was very doubtful whether Lothair hadstrength remaining to bear so great an exertion, and at such a seasonof the year--and he seemed disinclined to it himself. He also wished toleave Rome, but he wished also in time to extend his travels. Amid thesedifficulties, a Neapolitan duke, a great friend of Monsignore Catesby, agentleman who always had a friend in need, offered to the young Englishnoble, the interesting young Englishman so favored by Heaven, the useof his villa on the coast of the remotest part of Sicily, near Syracuse. Here was a solution of many difficulties: departure from Rome, changeof scene and air--sea air, too, particularly recommended--and almostthe same as a return to England, without an effort, for was it not anisland, only with a better climate, and a people with free institutions, or a taste for them, which is the same?

The mode in which Lady St. Jerome and Monsignors Catesby consultedLord St. Jerome on the subject took the adroit but insidious formof congratulating him on the entire and unexpected fulfilment of hispurpose. "Are we not fortunate?" exclaimed her ladyship, looking upbrightly in his face, and gently pressing one of his arms. 

"Exactly everything your lordship required, " echoed Monsignore Catesby, congratulating him by pressing the other. 

The cardinal said to Lord St. Jerome, in the course of the morning, inan easy way, and as if he were not thinking too much of the matter, "So, you have got out of all your difficulties. "

Lord St. Jerome was not entirely satisfied, but he thought he had donea great deal, and, to say the truth, the effort for him had not beeninconsiderable; and so the result was that Lothair, accompanied byMonsignore Catesby and Father Coleman, travelled by easy stages, andchiefly on horseback, through a delicious and romantic country, whichalone did Lothair a great deal of good, to the coast; crossed thestraits on a serene afternoon, visited Messina and Palermo, and finallysettled at their point of destination--the Villa Catalano. 

Nothing could be more satisfactory than the monsignore's bulletin, announcing to his friends at Rome their ultimate arrangements. Threeweeks' travel, air, horse exercise, the inspiration of the landscapeand the clime, had wonderfully restored Lothair, and they might entirelycount on his passing Holy Week at Rome, when all they had hoped andprayed for would, by the blessing of the Holy Virgin, be accomplished. 

CHAPTER 71

The terrace of the Villa Catalano, with its orange and palm trees, looked upon a sea of lapiz lazuli, and rose from a shelving shore ofaloes and arbutus. The waters reflected the color of the sky, and allthe foliage wag bedewed with the same violet light of morn which bathedthe softness of the distant mountains, and the undulating beauty of theever-varying coast. 

Lothair was walking on the terrace, his favorite walk, for it was theduly occasion on which he ever found himself alone. Not that he had anyreason to complain of his companions. More complete ones could scarcelybe selected. Travel, which, they say, tries all tempers, had only provedthe engaging equanimity of Catesby, and had never disturbed the amiablerepose of his brother priest: and then they were so entertaining and soinstructive, as well as handy and experienced in all common things. Themonsignore had so much taste and feeling, and various knowledge; and asfor the reverend father, all the antiquaries they daily encounteredwere mere children in his hands, who, without effort, could explain andillustrate every scene and object, and spoke as if he had never given athought to any other theme than Sicily and Syracuse, the expeditionof Nicias, and the adventures of Agathocles. And yet, during all theirtravels, Lothair felt that he never was alone. This was remarkable atthe great cities, such as Messina and Palermo, but it was a prevalenthabit in less-frequented places. There was a petty town near them, whichhe had never visited alone, although he had made more than one attemptwith that view; and it was only on the terrace in the early morn, a spotwhence he could be observed from the villa, and which did not easilycommunicate with the precipitous and surrounding scenery, that Lothairwould indulge that habit of introspection which he had pursued throughmany a long ride, and which to him was a never-failing source ofinterest and even excitement. 

He wanted to ascertain the causes of what he deemed the failure of hislife, and of the dangers and discomfiture that were still impendingover him. Were these causes to be found in any peculiarity of hisdisposition, or in the general inexperience and incompetence of youth?The latter, he was now quite willing to believe, would lead theirpossessors into any amount of disaster, but his ingenuous naturehesitated before it accepted them as the self-complacent solution of hispresent deplorable position. 

Of a nature profound and inquisitive, though with a great fund ofreverence which had been developed by an ecclesiastical education, Lothair now felt that he had started in life with an extravagantappreciation of the influence of the religious principle on the conductof human affairs. With him, when heaven was so nigh, earth could not beremembered; and yet experience showed that, so long as one was onthe earth, the incidents of this planet considerably controlled one'sexistence, both in behavior and in thought. All the world could notretire to Mount Athos. It was clear, therefore, that there was a justerconception of the relations between religion and life than that which hehad at first adopted. 

Practically, Theodora had led, or was leading, him to this result; butTheodora, though religious, did not bow before those altars to whichhe for a moment had never been faithless. Theodora believed inher immortality, and did not believe in death according to theecclesiastical interpretation. But her departure from the scene, andthe circumstances under which it had taken place, had unexpectedly andviolently restored the course of his life to its old bent. Shattered andshorn, he was willing to believe that he was again entering the kingdomof heaven, but found he was only under the gilded dome of a Jesuit'schurch, and woke to reality, from a scene of magical deceptions, witha sad conviction that even cardinals and fathers of the Church wereinevitably influenced in this life by its interest and his passions. 

But the incident of his life that most occupied--it might be saidengrossed--his meditation was the midnight apparition in the Coliseum. Making every allowance that a candid nature and an ingenious mindcould suggest for explicatory circumstances; the tension of his nervoussystem, which was then doubtless strained to its last point; the memoryof her death-scene, which always harrowed and haunted him; and that darkcollision between his promise and his life which then, after so manyefforts, appeared by some supernatural ordination to be about inevitablyto occur in that very Rome whose gigantic shades surrounded him; hestill could not resist the conviction that he had seen the form ofTheodora and had listened to her voice. Often the whole day, when theywere travelling, and his companions watched him on his saddle in silentthought, his mind in reality was fixed on this single incident and hewas cross-examining his memory as some adroit and ruthless advocatedeals with the witness in the box, and tries to demonstrate hisinfidelity or his weakness. 

But whether it were indeed the apparition of his adored friend or adistempered dream, Lothair not less recognized the warning as divine, and the only conviction he had arrived at throughout his Siciliantravels was a determination that, however tragical the cost, his promiseto Theodora should never be broken. 

The beautiful terrace of the Villa Catalano overlooked a small bay towhich it descended by winding walks. The water was deep, and in anyother country the bay might have been turned to good account; butbays abounded on this coast, and the people, with many harbors, had nofreights to occupy them. This morn, this violet morn, when the balm ofthe soft breeze refreshed Lothair, and the splendor of the rising sunbegan to throw a flashing line upon the azure waters, a few fishermen inone of the country boats happened to come in, about to dry a net upon asunny bank. The boat was what is called a speronaro; an open boat workedwith oars, but with a lateen sail at the same time when the breezeserved. 

Lothair admired the trim of the vessel, and got talking with the men asthey ate their bread and olives, and a small fish or two. 

"And your lateen sail--?" continued Lothair. 

"Is the best thing in the world, except in a white squall, " replied thesailor, "and then every thing is queer in these seas with an open boat, though I am not afraid of Santa Agnese, and that is her name. But I tooktwo English officers who came over here for sport and whose leave ofabsence was out--I took them over in her to Malta, and did it in tenhours. I believe it had never been done in an open boat before, but itwas neck or nothing with them. "

"And you saved them?"

"With the lateen up the whole way. "

"They owed you much, and I hope they paid you well. "

"I asked them ten ducats, " said the man, "and they paid me ten ducats. "

Lothair had his hand in his pocket all this time, feeling, butimperceptibly, for his purse, and, when he had found it, feeling how itwas lined. He generally carried about him as much as Fortunatus. 

"What are you going to do with yourselves this morning?" said Lothair. 

"Well, not much; we thought of throwing the net, but we have had onedip, and no great luck. "

"Are you inclined to give me a sail?"

"Certainly, signor. "

"Have you a mind to go to Malta?"

"That is business, signor. "

"Look here, " said Lothair, "here are ten ducats in this purse, and alittle more. I will give them to you if you will take me to Maltaat once; but, if you will start in a hundred seconds, before the suntouches that rock, and the waves just beyond it are already bright, youshall have ten more ducats when you reach the isle. "

"Step in, signor. "

From the nature of the course, which was not in the direction of theopen sea, for they had to double Cape Passaro, the speronaro was out ofthe sight of the villa in a few minutes. They rowed only till they haddoubled the cape, and then set the lateen sail, the breeze being light, but steady and favorable. They were soon in open sea, no land in sight. "And, if a white squall does rise, " thought Lothair, "it will onlysettle many difficulties. "

But no white squall came; every thing was favorable to their progress;the wind the current, the courage, and spirit of the men, who liked theadventure, and liked Lothair. Night came on, but they were as tender tohim as women, fed him with their least coarse food, and covered him witha cloak made of stuff spun by their mothers and their sisters. 

Lothair was slumbering when the patron of the boat roused him, and hesaw at hand many lights, and, in a few minutes, was in still water. They were in one of the harbors of Malta, but not permitted to land atmidnight, and, when the morn arrived, the obstacles to the release ofLothair were not easily removed. A speronaro, an open boat from Sicily, of course with no papers to prove their point of departure--here werematerials for doubt and difficulty, of which the petty officers of theport knew how to avail themselves. They might come from Barbary, from aninfected port; plague might be aboard, a question of quarantine. Lothairobserved that they were nearly alongside of a fine steam-yacht, English, for it bore the cross of St. George; and, while on the quay, he andthe patron of the speronaro arguing with the officers of the port, a gentleman from the yacht put ashore in a boat, of which the brightequipment immediately attracted attention. The gentleman landed almostclose to the point where the controversy was carrying on. The excitedmanner and voice of the Sicilian mariner could not escape notice. Thegentleman stopped and looked at the group, and then suddenly exclaimed:"Good Heavens! my lord, can it be you?"

"Ah, Mr. Phoebus, you will help me!" said Lothair; and then he went upto him and told him every thing. All difficulties, of course, vanishedbefore the presence of Mr. Phoebus, whom the officers of the portevidently looked upon as a being beyond criticism and control. 

"And now, " said Mr. Phoebus, "about your people and your baggage?"

"I have neither servants nor clothes, " said Lothair, "and, if it had notbeen for these good people, I should not have had food. "

CHAPTER 72

Phoebus, in his steam-yacht Pan, of considerable admeasurement, andfitted up with every luxury and convenience that science and experiencecould suggest, was on his way to an island which he occasionallyinhabited, near the Asian coast of the gean Sea, and which he rentedfrom the chief of his wife's house, the Prince of Samos. Mr. Phoebus, by his genius and fame, commanded a large income, and he spent itfreely and fully. There was nothing of which he more disapproved thanaccumulation. It was a practice which led to sordid habits, and wasfatal to the beautiful. On the whole, he thought it more odious eventhan debt, more permanently degrading. Mr. Phoebus liked pomp andgraceful ceremony, and he was of opinion that great artists should leada princely life, so that, in their manners and method of existence, theymight furnish models to mankind in general, and elevate the tone andtaste of nations. 

Sometimes, when he observed a friend noticing with admiration, perhapswith astonishment, the splendor or finish of his equipments, he wouldsay: "The world think I had a large fortune with Madame Phoebus. I hadnothing. I understand that a fortune, and no inconsiderable one, wouldhave been given had I chosen to ask for it. But I did not choose toask for it. I made Madame Phoebus my wife because she was the finestspecimen of the Aryan race that I was acquainted with, and I would haveno considerations mixed up with the high motive that influenced me. My father-in-law Cantacuzene, whether from a feeling of gratitude orremorse, is always making us magnificent presents. I like to receivemagnificent presents, but also to make them; and I presented him with apicture which is the gem of his gallery, and which, if he ever part withit, will in another generation be contended for by kings and peoples. 

"On her last birthday we breakfasted with my father-in-law Cantacuzene, and Madame Phoebus found in her napkin a check for five thousand pounds. I expended it immediately in jewels for her personal use; for I wishedmy father-in-law to understand that there are other princely families inthe world besides the Cantacuzenes. "

A friend once ventured inquiringly to suggest whether his way oflife might not be conducive to envy, and so disturb that serenity ofsentiment necessary to the complete life of an artist. But Mr. Phoebuswould not for a moment admit the soundness of the objection. "No, " hesaid, "envy is a purely intellectual process. Splendor never excitesit; a man of splendor is looked upon always with favor--his appearanceexhilarates the heart of man. He is always popular. People wish to dinewith him, to borrow his money, but they do not envy him. If you wantto know what envy is, you should live among artists. You should hearme lecture at the Academy. I have sometimes suddenly turned round andcaught countenances like that of the man who was waiting at the cornerof the street for Benvenuto Cellini, in order to assassinate the greatFlorentine. "

It was impossible for Lothair in his present condition to have fallenupon a more suitable companion than Mr. Phoebus. It is not merelychange of scene and air that we sometimes want, but a revolution in theatmosphere of thought and feeling in which we live and breathe. Besideshis great intelligence and fancy, and his peculiar views on art andman and affairs in general, which always interested their hearer, andsometimes convinced, there was a general vivacity in Mr. Phoebus and avigorous sense of life, which were inspiriting to his companions. Whenthere was any thing to be done, great or small, Mr. Phoebus liked to doit; and this, as he averred, from a sense of duty, since, if any thingis to be done, it should be done in the best manner, and no one could doit so well as Mr. Phoebus. He always acted as if he had been createdto be the oracle and model of the human race, but the oracle was neverpompous or solemn, and the model was always beaming with good-nature andhigh spirits. 

Mr. Phoebus liked Lothair. He liked youth, and good-looking youth; andyouth that was intelligent and engaging and well-mannered. He also likedold men. But, between fifty and seventy, he saw little to approve of inthe dark sex. They had lost their good looks if they ever had any, their wits were on the wane, and they were invariably selfish. When theyattained second childhood, the charm often returned. Age was frequentlybeautiful, wisdom appeared like an aftermath, and the heart which seemeddry and deadened suddenly put forth shoots of sympathy. 

Mr. Phoebus postponed his voyage in order that Lothair might make hispreparations to become his guest in his island. "I cannot take you to abanker, " said Mr. Phoebus, "for I have none; but I wish you would sharemy purse. Nothing will ever induce me to use what they call paper money. It is the worst thing that what they call civilization has produced;neither hue nor shape, and yet a substitute for the richest color, and, where the arts flourish, the finest forms. "

The telegraph which brought an order to the bankers at Malta to give anunlimited credit to Lothair, rendered it unnecessary for our friend toshare what Mr. Phoebus called his purse, and yet he was glad to have theopportunity of seeing it, as Mr. Phoebus one morning opened a chest inhis cabin and produced several velvet bags, one full of pearls, anotherof rubies, others of Venetian sequins, Napoleons, and golden piastres. "I like to look at them, " said Mr. Phoebus, "and find life more intensewhen they are about my person. But bank-notes, so cold and thin--theygive me an ague. "

Madame Phoebus and her sister Euphrosyne welcomed Lothair in maritimecostumes which were absolutely bewitching; wondrous jackets with loopsof pearls, girdles defended by dirks with handles of turquoises, andtilted hats that; while they screened their long eyelashes from the sun, crowned the longer braids of their never-ending hair. Mr. Phoebus gavebanquets every day on board his yacht, attended by the chief personagesof the island, and the most agreeable officers of the garrison. Theydined upon deck, and it delighted him, with a surface of sang-froid, toproduce a repast which both in its material and its treatment was equalto the refined festivals of Paris. Sometimes they had a dance; sometimesin his barge, rowed by a crew in Venetian dresses, his guests glided onthe tranquil waters, under a starry sky, and listened to the exquisitemelodies of their hostess and her sister. 

At length the day of departure arrived. It was bright, with a breezefavorable to the sail and opportune for the occasion. For all theofficers of the garrison, and all beautiful Valetta itself, seemedpresent in their yachts and barges to pay their last tribute ofadmiration to the enchanting sisters and the all-accomplished owner ofthe Pan. Placed on the galley of his yacht, Mr. Phoebus surveyed thebrilliant and animated scene with delight. "This is the way to conductlife, " he said. "If, fortunately for them, I could have passed anothermonth among these people, I could have developed a feeling equal to theold regattas of the Venetians. "

The gean isle occupied by Mr. Phoebus was of no inconsiderabledimensions. A chain of mountains of white marble intersected it, coveredwith forests of oak, though in parts precipitous and bare. The lowlands, while they produced some good crops of grain, and even cotton and silk, were chiefly clothed with fruit-trees--orange and lemon, and the fig, the olive, and the vine. Sometimes the land was uncultivated, and wasprincipally covered with myrtles, of large size, and oleanders, and arbutus, and thorny brooms. Here game abounded, while from themountain-forests the wolf sometimes descended, and spoiled and scaredthe islanders. 

On the sea-shore, yet not too near the wave, and on a sylvan declivity, was along, pavilion-looking building, painted in white and arabesque. It was backed by the forest, which had a park-like character from itspartial clearance, and which, after a convenient slip of even land, ascended the steeper country and took the form of wooded hills, backedin due time by still sylvan yet loftier elevations, and sometimes aglittering peak. 

"Welcome, my friend!" said Mr. Phoebus to Lothair. "Welcome to an Aryanclime, an Aryan landscape, and an Aryan race! It will do you good afteryour Semitic hallucinations. "

CHAPTER 73

Mr. Phoebus pursued a life in his island partly feudal, partly Oriental, partly Venetian, and partly idiosyncratic. He had a grand studio, wherehe could always find interesting occupation in drawing every fine faceand form in his dominions. Then he hunted, and that was a remarkablescene. The ladies, looking like Diana or her nymphs, were mounted oncream-colored Anatolian chargers, with golden bells; while Mr. Phoebushimself, in green velvet and seven-leagued boots, sounded a wondroustwisted horn, rife with all the inspiring or directing notes of musicaland learned venerie. His neighbors of condition came mounted, but thefield was by no means confined to cavaliers. A vast crowd of men, insmall caps and jackets and huge white breeches, and armed with all theweapons of Palikari, handjars and ataghans and silver-sheathed musketsof uncommon length and almost as old as the battle of Lepanto, alwaysrallied round his standard. The equestrians caracoled about the park, and the horns sounded, and the hounds bayed, and the men shouted, tillthe deer had all scudded away. Then, by degrees, the hunters entered theforest, and the notes of venerie became more faint and the shouts moredistant. Then, for two or three hours, all was silent, save the soundof an occasional shot or the note of a stray hound, until the humanstragglers began to reappear emerging from the forest, and in duetime the great body of the hunt, and a gilded cart drawn by mules andcarrying the prostrate forms of fallow-deer and roebuck. None of theceremonies of the chase were omitted, and the crowd dispersed, refreshedby Samian wine, which Mr. Phoebus was teaching them to make withoutresin, and which they quaffed with shrugging shoulders. 

"We must have a wolf-hunt for you, " said Euphrosyne to Lothair. "Youlike excitement, I believe?"

"Well, I am rather inclined for repose at present, and I came here withthe hope of obtaining it. "

"Well, we are never idle here; in fact, that would be impossible withGaston. He has established here an academy of the fine arts, and alsorevived the gymnasia; and my sister and myself have schools--only musicand dancing; Gaston does not approve of letters. The poor people have, of course, their primary schools, with their priests, and Gaston doesnot interfere with them, but he regrets their existence. He looks uponreading and writing as very injurious to education. "

Sometimes reposing on divans, the sisters received the chief persons ofthe isle, and regaled them with fruits and sweetmeats, and coffee andsherbets, while Gaston's chibouques and tobacco of Salonica were aproverb. These meetings always ended with dance and song, replete, according to Mr. Phoebus, with studies of Aryan life. 

"I believe these islanders to be an unmixed race, " said Mr. Phoebus. "The same form and visage prevails throughout; and very little changedin any thing--even in their religion. "

"Unchanged in their religion!" said Lothair, with some astonishment. 

"Yes; you will find it so. Their existence is easy; their wants are notgreat, and their means of subsistence plentiful. They pass much of theirlife in what is called amusement--and what is it? They make parties ofpleasure; they go in procession to a fountain or a grove. They dance andeat fruit, and they return home singing songs. They have, in fact, beenperforming unconsciously the religious ceremonies of their ancestors, and which they pursue, and will forever, though they may have forgottenthe name of the dryad or the nymph who presides over their waters. "

"I should think their priests would guard them from these errors, " saidLothair. 

"The Greek priests, particularly in these Asian islands, are good sortof people, " said Mr. Phoebus. "They marry and have generally largefamilies, often very beautiful. They have no sacerdotal feelings, forthey never can have any preferment; all the high posts in the GreekChurch being reserved for the monks, who study what is called theology. The Greek parish priest is not at all Semitic; there is nothing tocounteract his Aryan tendencies. I have already raised the statue ofa nymph at one of their favorite springs and places of pleasantpilgrimage, and I have a statue now in the island, still in its case, which I contemplate installing in a famous grove of laurel not far offand very much resorted to. "

"And what then?" inquired Lothair. 

"Well, I have a conviction that among the great races the old creedswill come back, " said Mr. Phoebus, "and it will be acknowledged thattrue religion is the worship of the beautiful. For the beautiful cannotbe attained without virtue, if virtue consists, as I believe, in thecontrol of the passions, in the sentiment of repose, and the avoidancein all things of excess. "

One night Lothair was walking home with the sisters from a villagefestival where they had been much amused. 

"You have had a great many adventures since we first met?" said MadamePhoebus. 

"Which makes it seem longer ago than it really is, " said Lothair. 

"You count time by emotion, then?" said Euphrosyne. 

"Well, it is a wonderful thing, however it be computed, " said Lothair. 

"For my part, I do not think that it ought to be counted at all, " saidMadame Phoebus; "and there is nothing to me so detestable in Europe asthe quantity of clocks and watches. "

"Do you use a watch, my lord?" asked Euphrosyne, in a tone which alwaysseemed to Lothair one of mocking artlessness. 

"I believe I never wound it up when I had one, " said Lothair. 

"But you make such good use of your time, " said Madame Phoebus, "you donot require watches. "

"I am glad to hear I make good use of my time, " said Lothair, "but alittle surprised. "

"But you are so good, so religious, " said Madame Phoebus. "That is agreat thing; especially for one so young. "

"Hem!" said Lothair. 

"That must have been a beautiful procession at Rome, " said Euphrosyne. 

"I was rather a spectator of it than an actor in it, " said Lothair, withsome seriousness. "It is too long a tale to enter into, but my part inthose proceedings was entirely misrepresented. "

"I believe that nothing in the newspapers is ever true, " said MadamePhoebus. 

"And that is why they are so popular, " added Euphrosyne; "the taste ofthe age being so decidedly for fiction. "

"Is it true that you escaped from a convent to Malta?" said MadamePhoebus. 

"Not quite, " said Lothair, "but true enough for conversations. "

"As confidential as the present, I suppose?" said Euphrosyne. 

"Yes, when we are grave, as we are inclined to be now, " said Lothair. 

"Then, you have been fighting a good deal, " said Madame Phoebus. 

"You are putting me on a court-martial, Madame Phoebus, " said Lothair. 

"But we do not know on which side you were, " said Euphrosyne. 

"That is matter of history, " said Lothair, "and that, you know, isalways doubtful. "

"Well, I do not like fighting, " said Madame Phoebus, "and for my part Inever could find out that it did an good. "

"And what do you like?" said Lothair. "Tell me how would you pass yourlife?"

"Well, much as I do. I do not know that I want any change, except Ithink I should like it to be always summer. "

"And I would have perpetual spring, " said Euphrosyne. 

"But, summer or spring, what would be your favorite pursuit?"

"Well, dancing is very nice, " said Madame Phoebus. 

"But we cannot always, be dancing, " said Lothair. 

"Then we would sing, " said Euphrosyne. 

"But the time comes when one can neither dance nor sing, " said Lothair. 

"Oh, then we become part of the audience, " said Madame Phoebus, "thepeople for whose amusement everybody labors. "

"And enjoy power without responsibility, " said Euphrosyne, "detect falsenotes and mark awkward gestures. How can any one doubt of Providencewith such a system of constant compensation!"

There was something in the society of these two sisters that Lothairbegan to find highly attractive. Their extraordinary beauty, theirgenuine and unflagging gayety, their thorough enjoyment of existence, and the variety of resources with which they made life amusing andgraceful, all contributed to captivate him. They had, too, a great loveand knowledge both of art and nature, and insensibly they weaned Lothairfrom that habit of introspection which, though natural to him, hehad too much indulged, and taught him to find sources of interest anddelight in external objects. He was beginning to feel happy in thisislands and wishing that his life might never change, when one day Mr. Phoebus informed them that the Prince Agathonides, the eldest son ofthe Prince of Samos, would arrive from Constantinople in a few days, and would pay them a visit. "He will come with some retinue, " said Mr. Phoebus, "but I trust we shall be able by our reception to show that theCantacuzenes are not the only princely family in the world. "

Mr. Phoebus was confident in his resources in this respect, for hisyacht's crew in their Venetian dresses could always furnish a guard ofhonor which no Grecian prince or Turkish pacha could easily rival. Whenthe eventful day arrived, he was quite equal to the occasion. The yachtwas dressed in every part with the streaming colors of all nations, thebanner of Gaston Phoebus waved from his pavilion, the guard of honorkept the ground, but the population of the isle were present in numbersand in their most showy costume, and a battery of ancient Turkish gunsfired a salute without an accident. 

The Prince Agathonides was a youth, good looking and dressed in asplendid Palikar costume, though his manners were quite European, beingan attach to the Turkish embassy at Vienna. He had with him a sort ofgovernor, a secretary, servants in Mamlouk dresses, pipe-bearers, andgrooms, there being some horses as presents from his father to Mr. Phoebus, and some rarely-embroidered kerchiefs and choice perfumes andPersian greyhounds for the ladies. 

'The arrival of the young prince was the signal for a series ofentertainments on the island. First of all, Mr. Phoebus resolved to givea dinner in the Frank style, to prove to Agathonides that there wereother members of the Cantacuzene family besides himself who comprehendeda first-rate Frank dinner. The chief people of the island were invitedto this banquet. They drank the choicest grapes of France and Germany, were stuffed with truffles, and sat on little cane chairs. But one mightdetect in their countenances how they sighed for their easy divans, their simple dishes, and their resinous wine. Then there was awolf-hunt, and other sport; a great day of gymnasia, many dances andmuch music; in fact, there were choruses all over the island, and everynight was a serenade. 

Why such general joy? Because it was understood that the heir-apparentof the isle, their future sovereign, had in fact arrived to make his bowto the beautiful Euphrosyne, as though he saw her for the first time. 

CHAPTER 74

Very shortly after his arrival at Malta, Mr. Phoebus had spoken toLothair about Theodora. It appeared that Lucien Campian, though severelywounded, had escaped with Garibaldi after the battle of Mentana into theItalian territories. Here they were at once arrested, but not severelydetained, and Colonel Campian took the first opportunity of revisitingEngland, where, after settling his affairs, he had returned to hisnative country, from which he had been separated for many years. Mr. Phoebus during the interval had seen a great deal of him, and thecolonel departed for America under the impression that Lothair had beenamong the slain at the final struggle. 

"Campian is one of the beat men I over knew, " said Phoebus. "He was aremarkable instance of energy combined with softness of disposition. Inmy opinion, however, he ought never to have visited Europe: he was madeto clear the backwoods, and govern man by the power of his hatchet andthe mildness of his words. He was fighting for freedom all his life, yet slavery made and slavery destroyed him. Among all the freaks of Fatenothing is more surprising than that this Transatlantic planter shouldhave been ordained to be the husband of a divine being--a true Hellenicgoddess, who in the good days would have been worshipped in thiscountry, and have inspired her race to actions of grace, wisdom, andbeauty. "

"I greatly esteem him, " said Lothair "and I shall write to himdirectly. "

"Except by Campian, who spoke probably about you to no one save myself, "continued Phoebus, "your name has never been mentioned with reference tothose strange transactions. Once there was a sort of rumor that you hadmet with some mishap, but these things were contradicted and explained, and then forgotten: and people were all out of town. I believe thatCardinal Grandison communicated with your man of business, and betweenthem every thing was kept quiet, until this portentous account of yourdoings at Rome, which transpired after we left England and which met usat Malta. "

"I have written to my man of business about that, " said Lothair, "butI think it will tax all his ingenuity to explain, or to mystify it assuccessfully as he did the preceding adventures. At any rate, he willnot have the assistance of my lord cardinal. "

"Theodora was a remarkable woman on many accounts, " said Mr. Phoebus, "but particularly on this, that, although one of the most beautifulwomen that ever existed, she was adored by beautiful women. My wifeadored her; Euphrosyne, who has no enthusiasm, adored her; the Princessof Tivoli, the most capricious being probably that ever existed, adored;and always adored, Theodora. I think it must have been that there wason her part a total absence of vanity, and this the more strange inone whose vocation in her earlier life had been to attract and liveon popular applause; but I have seen her quit theatres ringing withadmiration and enter her carriage with the serenity of a Phidian muse. "

"I adored her, " said Lothair, "but I never could quite solve hercharacter. Perhaps it was too rich and deep far rapid comprehension. "

"We shall never perhaps see her like again, " said Mr. Phoebus. "It was arare combination, peculiar to the Tyrrhenian sea. I am satisfied that wemust go there to find the pure Hellenic blood, and from thence it got toRome. "

"We may not see her like again, but we may see her again, " said Lothair;"and sometimes I think she is always hovering over me. "

In this vein, when they were alone, they were frequently speaking ofthe departed, and one day--it was before the arrival of PrinceAgathonides--Mr. Phoebus said to Lothair: "We will ride this morning towhat we call the grove of Daphne. It is a real laurel-grove. Some of thetrees must be immemorial, and deserve to have been sacred, if oncethey were not so. In their huge, grotesque forms you would not easilyrecognize your polished friends of Europe, so trim and glossy andshrub-like. The people are very fond of this grove, and make frequentprocessions there. Once a year they must be headed by their priest. No one knows why, nor has he the slightest idea of the reason of thevarious ceremonies which he that day performs. But we know, and some dayhe or his successors will equally understand them. Yes, if I remain herelong enough--and I sometimes think I will never again quit the isle--Ishall expect some fine summer night, when there is that rich stillnesswhich the whispering waves only render more intense, to hear a voiceof music on the mountains declaring that the god Pan has returned toearth. "

It was a picturesque ride, as every ride was on this island, skirtingthe sylvan hills with the sea glimmering in the distance. Lothair waspleased with the approaches to the sacred grove: now and then a singletree with gray branches and a green head, then a great spread ofunderwood, all laurel, and then spontaneous plantations of young trees. 

"There was always a vacant space in the centre of the grove, " said Mr. Phoebus, "once sadly overrun with wild shrubs, but I have cleared it andrestored the genius of the spot. See!"

They entered the sacred circle and beheld a statue raised on a porphyrypedestal. The light fell with magical effect on the face of the statue. It was the statue of Theodora, the placing of which in the pavilionof Belmont Mr. Phoebus was superintending when Lothair first made hisacquaintance. 

CHAPTER 75

The Prince Agathonides seemed quite to monopolize the attentionof Madame Phoebus and her sister. This was not very unreasonable, considering that he was their visitor, the future chief of their house, and had brought them so many embroidered pocket-handkerchiefs, choicescents, and fancy dogs. But Lothair thought it quite disgusting, norcould he conceive what they saw in him, what they were talking about orlaughing about, for, so far as he had been able to form any opinion onthe subject, the prince was a shallow-pated coxcomb without a singlequality to charm any woman of sense and spirit. Lothair began toconsider how he could pursue his travels, where he should go to, and, when that was settled, how he should get there. 

Just at this moment of perplexity, as is often the case, somethingoccurred which no one could foresee, but which, like every event, removed some difficulties and introduced others. 

There arrived at the island a dispatch forwarded to Mr. Phoebus bythe Russian ambassador at Constantinople, who had received it fromhis colleague at London. This dispatch contained a proposition toMr. Phoebus to repair to the court of St. Petersburg, and acceptappointments of high distinction and emolument. Without in any wayrestricting the independent pursuit of his profession, he was offereda large salary, the post of court painter, and the presidency of theAcademy of Fine Arts. Of such moment did the Russian Government deem theofficial presence of this illustrious artist in their country, thatit was intimated, if the arrangement could be effected, its conclusionmight be celebrated by conferring on Mr. Phoebus a patent of nobilityand a decoration of a high class. The dispatch contained a privateletter from an exalted member of the imperial family, who had had thehigh and gratifying distinction of making Mr. Phoebus's acquaintancein London, personally pressing the acceptance by him of the generalproposition, assuring him of cordial welcome and support, and informingMr. Phoebus that what was particularly desired at this moment was aseries of paintings illustrative of some of the most memorable scenesin the Holy Land and especially the arrival of the pilgrims of the Greekrite at Jerusalem. As for this purpose he would probably like to visitPalestine, the whole of the autumn or even a longer period was placed athis disposal; so that, enriched with all necessary drawings and studies, he might achieve his more elaborate performances in Russia at hisleisure and with every advantage. 

Considering that the great objects in life with Mr. Phoebus were to livein an Aryan country, amid an Aryan race, and produce works which shouldrevive for the benefit of human nature Aryan creeds, a proposition topass some of the prime years of his life among the Mongolian race, andat the same time devote his pencil to the celebration Semitic subjects, was startling. 

"I shall say nothing to Madame Phoebus until the prince has gone, " heremarked to Lothair; "he will go the day after to-morrow. I do not knowwhat they may offer to make me--probably only a baron, perhaps a count. But you know in Russia a man may become a prince, and I certainly shouldlike those Cantacuzenes to feel that after all their daughter is aprincess with no thanks to them. The climate is detestable, but one owesmuch to one's profession. Art would be honored at a great, perhaps thegreatest, court. There would not be a fellow at his easel in thestreets about Fitzroy Square who would not be prouder. I wonder whatthe decoration will be? 'Of a high class'--vague. It might be AlexanderNewsky. You know you have a right, whatever your decoration, to haveit expressed, of course at your own expense, in brilliants. I confess Ihave my weaknesses. I should like to get over to the Academy dinner--onecan do any thing in these days of railroads--and dine with the R. A'sin my ribbon and the star of the Alexander Newsky in brilliants. I thinkevery academician would feel elevated. What I detest are their Semiticsubjects--nothing but drapery. They cover even their heads in thosescorching climes. Can any one make any thing of a caravan of pilgrims?To be sure, they say no one can draw a camel. If I went to Jerusalem, acamel would at last be drawn. There is something in that. We must thinkover these things, and when the prince has gone talk it over withMadame Phoebus. I wish you all to come to a wise decision, without theslightest reference to my individual tastes or, it may be, prejudices. "

The result of all this was that Mr. Phoebus, without absolutelycommitting himself, favorably entertained the general proposition of theRussian court; while, with respect to their particular object in art, heagreed to visit Palestine and execute at least one work for his imperialfriend and patron. He counted on reaching Jerusalem before the Easterpilgrims returned to their homes. 

"If they would make me a prince at once, and give me the AlexanderNewsky in brilliants, it might be worth thinking of, " he said toLothair. 

The ladies, though they loved their isle, were quite delighted withthe thought of going to Jerusalem. Madame Phoebus knew a Russiangrand-duchess who had boasted to her that she had been both to Jerusalemand Torquay, and Madame Phoebus had felt quite ashamed that she had beento neither. 

"I suppose you will feel quite at home there, " said Euphrosyne toLothair. 

"No; I never was there. "

"No; but you know all about those places and people--holy places andholy persons. The Blessed Virgin did not, I believe, appear to you. Itwas to a young lady, was it not? We were asking each other last nightwho the young lady could be. "

CHAPTER 76

Time, which changes every thing, is changing even the traditionaryappearance of forlorn Jerusalem. Not that its mien, after all, was eververy sad. Its airy site, its splendid mosque, its vast monasteries, thebright material of which the whole city is built, its cupolaed housesof freestone, and above all the towers and gates and battlements of itslofty and complete walls, always rendered it a handsome city. Jerusalemhas not been sacked so often or so recently as the other two greatancient cities, Rome and Athens. Its vicinage was never more desolatethan the Campagna, or the state of Attica and the Morea in 1830. 

The battle-field of western Asia from the days of the Assyrian kingsto those of Mehemet Ali, Palestine endured the same devastation as inmodern times has been the doom of Flanders and the Milanese; but theyears of havoc in the Low Countries and Lombardy must be counted inPalestine by centuries. Yet the wide plains of the Holy Land, Sharon, and Shechem, and Esdraelon, have recovered; they are as fertile and asfair as in old days; it is the hill-culture that has been destroyed, andthat is the culture on which Jerusalem mainly depended. Its hills wereterraced gardens, vineyards, and groves of olive-trees. And here itis that we find renovation. The terraces are again ascending the stonyheights, and the eye is frequently gladdened with young plantations. Fruit-trees, the peach and the pomegranate, the almond and the fig, offer gracious groups; and the true children of the land, the vine andthe olive, are again exulting in their native soil. 

There is one spot, however, which has been neglected, and yet the onethat should have been the first remembered, as it has been the mostrudely wasted. Blessed be the hand which plants trees upon Olivet!Blessed be the hand that builds gardens about Sion!

The most remarkable creation, however, in modern Jerusalem is theRussian settlement which within a few years has risen on the elevatedground on the western side of the city. The Latin, the Greek, and theArmenian Churches had for centuries possessed enclosed establishmentsin the city, which, under the name of monasteries, provided shelter andprotection for hundreds--it might be said even thousands--of pilgrimsbelonging to their respective rites. The great scale, therefore, onwhich Russia secured hospitality for her subjects was not in realityso remarkable as the fact that it seemed to indicate a settleddetermination to separate the Muscovite Church altogether from theGreek, and throw off what little dependence is still acknowledged on thePatriarchate of Constantinople. Whatever the motive, the design has beenaccomplished on a large scale. The Russian buildings, all well defended, are a caravanserai, a cathedral, a citadel. The consular flag crowns theheight and indicates the office of administration; priests and monks arepermanent inhabitants, and a whole caravan of Muscovite pilgrim and thetrades on which they depend can be accommodated within the precinct. 

Mr. Phoebus, his family and suite, were to be the guests of the Russianconsul, and every preparation was made to insure the celebratedpainter a becoming reception. Frequent telegrams had duly impressed therepresentative of all the Russias in the Holy Land with the importanceof his impending visitor. Even the qualified and strictly provisionalacceptance of the Russian proposition by Mr. Phoebus had agitated thewires of Europe scarcely less than a suggested conference. 

"An artist should always remember what he owes to posterity and hisprofession, " said Mr. Phoebus to Lothair, as they were walking the deck, "even if you can distinguish between them, which I doubt, for it is onlyby a sense of the beautiful that the human family can be sustainedin Its proper place in the scale of creation, and the sense of thebeautiful is a result of the study of the fine arts. It would besomething to sow the seeds of organic change in the Mongolian type, butI am nor sanguine of success. There is no original fund of aptitude toact upon. The most ancient of existing communities is Turanian, and yet, though they could invent gunpowder and the mariner's compass, they nevercould understand perspective. --Man ahead there! tell Madame Phoebus tocome on deck for the first sight of Mount Lebanon. "

When the Pan entered the port of Joppa they observed another Englishyacht in those waters; but, before they could speculate on its owner, they were involved in all the complications of landing. On the quay, theRussian vice-consul was in attendance with horses and mules, anddonkeys handsomer than either. The ladies were delighted with the vastorange-gardens of Joppa, which Madame Phoebus said realized quite heridea of the Holy Land. 

"I was prepared for milk and honey, " said Euphrosyne, "but this is toodelightful, " as she travelled through lanes of date-bearing palm-trees, and sniffed with her almond-shaped nostrils the all-pervading fragrance. 

They passed the night at Arimathea, a pretty village surroundedwith gardens enclosed with hedges of prickly pear. Here they foundhospitality, in an old convent, but all the comforts of Europe and manyof the refinements of Asia had been forwarded for their accommodations. 

"It is a great homage to art, " said Mr. Phoebus, as he scattered hisgold like a great seigneur of Gascony. 

The next day, two miles from Jerusalem, the consul met them with acavalcade, and the ladies assured their host that they were not at allwearied with their journey, but were quite prepared, in due time, tojoin his dinner-party, which he was most anxious they should attend, ashe had "two English lords" who had arrived, and whom he had invitedto meet them. They were all curious to know their names, though that, unfortunately, the consul could not tell them, but he had sent to theEnglish consulate to have them written down. All he could assure themwas, that they were real English lords, not travelling English lords, but in sober earnestness great personages. 

Mr. Phoebus was highly gratified. He was pleased with his reception. There was nothing he liked much more than a procession. He was also asincere admirer of the aristocracy of his country. "On the whole, "he would say, "they most resemble the old Hellenic race; excelling inathletic sports, speaking no other language than their own, and neverreading. "

"Your fault, " he would sometimes say to Lothair, "and the cause of manyof your sorrows, is the habit of mental introspection. Man is born toobserve, but if he falls into psychology he observes nothing, and thenhe is astonished that life has no charms for him, or that, never seizingthe occasion, his career is a failure. No, sir, it is the eye that mustbe occupied and cultivated; no one knows the capacity of the eye who hasnot developed it, or the visions of beauty and delight and inexhaustibleinterest which it commands. To a man who observes, life is as differentas the existence of a dreaming psychologist is to that of the animals ofthe field. "

"I fear, " said Lothair, "that I have at length found out the truth, andthat I am a dreaming psychologist. "

"You are young and not irremediably lost, " said Mr. Phoebus. "Fortunately, you have received the admirable though partial educationof your class. You are a good shot, you can ride, you can row, you canswim. That imperfect secretion of the brain which is called thought hasnot yet bowed your frame. You have not had time to read much. Give it upaltogether. The conversation of a woman like Theodora is worth all thelibraries in the world. If it were only for her sake, I should wishto save you, but I wish to do it for your own. Yes, profit by the vastthough calamitous experience which you have gained in a short time. Wemay know a great deal about our bodies, we can know very little aboutour minds. "

The "real English lords" turned out to be Bertram and St. Aldegonde, returning from Nubia. They had left England about the same time asLothair, and had paired together on the Irish Church till Easter, with asort of secret hope on the part of St. Aldegonde that they might neitherof them reappear in the House of Commons again until the Irish Churchwere either saved or subverted. Holy Week had long passed, and they wereat Jerusalem, not quite so near the House of Commons as the ReformClub or the Carlton, but still St. Aldegonde had mentioned that hewas beginning to be bored with Jerusalem, and Bertram counted on theirimmediate departure when they accepted the invitation to dine with theRussian consul. 

Lothair was unaffectedly delighted to meet Bertram, and glad to seeSt. Aldegonde, but he was a little nervous and embarrassed as to theprobable tone of his reception by them. But their manner relieved him inan instant, for he saw they knew nothing of his adventures. 

"Well, " said St. Aldegonde, "what have you been doing with yourselfsince we last met? I wish you had come with us, and had a shot at acrocodile. "

Bertram told Lothair in the course of the evening that he found lettersat Cairo from Corisande, on his return, in which there was a good dealabout Lothair, and which had made him rather uneasy. "That there was arumor you had been badly wounded, and some other things, " and Bertramlooked him full in the face; "but I dare say not a word of truth. "

"I was never better in my life, " said Lothair, "and I have been inSicily and in Greece. However, we will talk over all this another time. "

The dinner at the consulate was, one of the most successful banquetsthat was ever given, if to please your guests be the test of goodfortune in such enterprises. St. Aldegonde was perfectly charmed withthe Phoebus family; he did not know which to admire most--the greatartist, who was in remarkable spirits to-day, considering he was in aSemitic country, or his radiant wife, or his brilliant sister-in-law. St. Aldegonde took an early opportunity of informing Bertram that if heliked to go over and vote for the Irish Church he would release him fromhis pair with the greatest pleasure, but for his part he had not theslightest intention of leaving Jerusalem at present. Strange to say, Bertram received this intimation without a murmur. He was not so loudin his admiration of the Phoebus family as St. Aldegonde, but there isa silent sentiment sometimes more expressive than the noisiest applause, and more dangerous. Bertram had sat next to Euphrosyne, and was entirelyspell-bound. 

The consul's wife, a hostess not unworthy of such guests, hadentertained her friends in the European style. The dinner-hour was notlate, and the gentlemen who attended the ladies from the dinner-tablewere allowed to remain some time in the saloon. Lothair talked much tothe consul's wife, by whose side sat Madame Phoebus. St. Aldegonde wasalways on his legs, distracted by the rival attractions of that lady andher husband. More remote, Bertram whispered to Euphrosyne, who answeredhim with laughing eyes. 

At a certain hour, the consul, attended by his male guests, crossing acourt, proceeded to his divan, a lofty and capacious chamber painted infresco, and with no furniture except the low but broad raised seat thatsurrounded the room. Here, when they were seated, an equal number ofattendants--Arabs in Arab dress, blue gowns, and red slippers, and redcaps--entered, each proffering a long pipe of cherry or jasmine wood. Then, in a short time, guests dropped in, and pipes and coffee wereimmediately brought to them. Any person who had been formally presentedto the consul had this privilege, without any further invitation. Thesociety often found in these consular divans in the more remote placesof the East--Cairo, Damascus, Jerusalem--is often extremely entertainingand instructive. Celebrated travellers, distinguished men of science, artists, adventurers who ultimately turn out to be heroes, eccentriccharacters of all kinds, are here encountered, and give the fruits oftheir original or experienced observation without reserve. 

"It is the smoking-room over again, " whispered St. Aldegonde to Lothair, "only in England one is so glad to get away from the women, but here Imust say I should have liked to remain behind. "

An individual in a Syrian dress, fawn-colored robes girdled with a richshawl, and a white turban, entered. He made his salute with grace anddignity to the consul, touching his forehead, his lip, and his heart, and took his seat with the air of one not unaccustomed to be received, playing, until he received his chibouque, with a chaplet of beads. 

"That is a good-looking fellow, Lothair, " said St. Aldegonde; "or is itthe dress that turns them out such swells? I feel quite a lout by someof these fellows. "

"I think he would be good-looking in any dress, " said Lothair. "Aremarkable countenance. "

It was an oval visage, with features in harmony with that form; largedark-brown eyes and lashes, and brows delicately but completely defined;no hair upon the face except a beard, full but not long. He seemed aboutthe same age as Mr. Phoebus, and his complexion, though pale, was clearand fair. 

The conversation, after some rambling, had got upon the Suez Canal. Mr. Phoebus did not care for the political or the commercial consequences ofthat great enterprise, but he was glad that a natural division shouldbe established between the greater races and the Ethiopian. It might notlead to any considerable result, but it asserted a principle. He lookedupon that trench as a protest. 

"But would you place the Nilotic family in the Ethiopian race?" inquiredthe Syrian in a voice commanding from its deep sweetness. 

"I would certainly. The were Cushim, and that means negroes. "

The Syrian did not agree with Mr. Phoebus; he stated his views firmlyand, clearly, but without urging them. He thought that we must look tothe Pelasgi as the colonizing race that had peopled and produced Egypt. The mention of the Pelasgi fired Mr. Phoebus to even unusualeloquence. He denounced the Pelasgi as a barbarous race: men of gloomysuperstitions, who, had it not been for the Hellenes, might have fatallyarrested the human development. The triumph of the Hellenes was thetriumph of the beautiful, and all that is great and good in life wasowing to their victory. 

"It is difficult to ascertain what is great in life, " said the Syrian, "because nations differ on the subject and ages. Some, for example, consider war to be a great thing, others condemn it. I remember alsowhen patriotism was a boast, and now it is a controversy. But it is notso difficult to ascertain what is good. For man has in his own beingsome guide to such knowledge, and divine aid to acquire it has notbeen wanting to him. For my part I could not maintain that the Hellenicsystem led to virtue. "

The conversation was assuming an ardent character when the consul, as adiplomatist, turned the channel. Mr. Phoebus had vindicated the Hellenicreligion, the Syrian, with a terse protest against the religion ofNature, however idealized, as tending to the corruption of man, had letthe question die away, and the Divan were discussing dromedaries, and dancing-girls, and sherbet made of pomegranate, which the consulrecommended and ordered to be produced. Some of the guests retired, andamong them the Syrian with the same salute and the same graceful dignityas had distinguished his entrance. 

"Who is that man?" said Mr. Phoebus. "I met him at Rome ten years ago. Baron Mecklenburg brought him to me to paint for my great picture ofSt. John, which is in the gallery of Munich. He said in his way--youremember his way--that he would bring me a face of Paradise. "

"I cannot exactly tell you his name, " said the consul. "Prince Galitzinbrought him here, and thought highly of him. I believe he is one of theold Syrian families in the mountain; but whether he be a Maronite or aDruse, or any thing else, I really cannot say. Now try the sherbet. "

CHAPTER 77

There are few things finer than the morning view of Jerusalem from theMount of Olives. The fresh and golden light falls on a walled city withturrets and towers and frequent gates: the houses of freestone, withterraced or oval roofs, sparkle in the sun, while the cupolaed pile ofthe Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the vast monasteries, and the broadsteep of Sion crowned with the tower of David, vary the monotony of thegeneral masses of building. But the glory of the scene is the Mosque ofOmar as it rises on its broad platform of marble from the deep ravineof Kedron, with its magnificent dome high in the air, its arches andgardened courts, and its ornaments glittering amid the cedar, thecypress, and the palm. 

Reclining on Olivet, Lothair, alone and in charmed abstraction, gazed onthe wondrous scene. Since his arrival at Jerusalem he lived much apart, nor had he found difficulty in effecting this isolation. Mr. Phoebus hadalready established a studio on a considerable scale, and was engagedin making sketches of pilgrims and monks, tall donkeys of Bethlehem withstarry fronts, in which he much delighted, and grave Jellaheen sheiks, who were hanging about the convents in the hopes of obtaining a convoyto the Dead Sea. As for St. Aldegonde and Bertram, they passed theirlives at the Russian consulate, or with its most charming inhabitants. This morning, with the consul and his wife and the matchless sisters, asSt. Aldegonde always termed them, they had gone on an excursion to theConvent of the Nativity. Dinner usually reassembled all the party, andthen the Divan followed. 

"I say, Bertram, " said St. Aldegonde, "what a lucky thing we paired andwent to Nubia! I rejoice in the Divan, and yet, somehow, I cannot bearleaving those women. If the matchless sisters would only smoke, by Jovethey would be perfect!"

"I should not like Euphrosyne to smoke, " said Bertram. 

A person approached Lothair by the pathway from Bethany. It was theSyrian gentleman whom he had met at the consulate. As he was passingLothair, he saluted him with the grace which had been before remarked, and Lothair, who was by nature courteous, and even inclined a littleto ceremony in his manners, especially with those with whom he was notintimate, immediately rose, as he would not receive such a deputation ina reclining posture. 

"Let me not disturb you, " said the stranger, "or, if we must be on equalterms, let me also be seated, for this is a view that never palls. "

"It is perhaps familiar to you, " said Lothair, "but with me, only apilgrim, its effect is fascinating, almost overwhelming. "

"The view of Jerusalem never becomes familiar, " said the Syrian, "forits associations are so transcendent, so various, so inexhaustible, thatthe mind can never anticipate its course of thought and feeling, whenone sits, as we do now, on this immortal mount. "

"I presume you live here?" said Lothair. 

"Not exactly, " said his companion. "I have recently built a housewithout the walls, and I have planted my hill with fruit-trees, andmade vineyards and olive-grounds, but I have done this as much--perhapsmore--to set an example, which, I am glad, to say, has been followed, as for my own convenience or pleasure. My home is in the north ofPalestine, on the other side of, Jordan, beyond the Sea of Galilee. Myfamily has dwelt there from time immemorial; but they always loved thiscity, and have a legend that they dwelt occasionally within its walls, even in the days when Titus from that hill looked down upon the temple. "

"I have often wished to visit the Sea of Galilee, " said Lothair. 

"Well, you have now an opportunity, " said the Syrian; "the north ofPalestine, though it has no topical splendor, has much variety and apeculiar natural charm. The burst and brightness of spring have not yetquite vanished: you would find our plains radiant with wild-flowers, andour hills green with young crops; and, though we cannot rival Lebanon, we have forest glades among our famous hills that, when once seen, areremembered. "

"But there is something to me more interesting than the splendor oftropical scenery, " said Lothair, "even if Galilee could offer it. I wishto visit the cradle of my faith. "

"And you would do wisely, " said the Syrian, "for there is no doubt thespiritual nature of man is developed in this land. "

"And yet there are persons at the present day who doubt--even deny--thespiritual nature of man, " said Lothair. "I do not, I could not--thereare reasons why I could not. "

"There are some things I know, and some things I believe, " said theSyrian. "I know that I have a soul, and I believe that it is immortal. "

"It is science that, by demonstrating the insignificance of thisglobe in the vast scale of creation, has led to this infidelity, " saidLothair. 

"Science may prove the insignificance of this globe in the scale ofcreation, " said the stranger, "but it cannot prove the insignificance ofman. What is the earth compared with the sun? a molehill by a mountain;yet the inhabitants of this earth can discover the elements of whichthe great orb consists, and will probably ere long ascertain all theconditions of its being. Nay, the human mind can penetrate far beyondthe sun. There is no relation, therefore, between the faculties of manand the scale in creation of the planet which he inhabits. "

"I was glad to hear you assert the other night the spiritual nature ofman in opposition to Mr. Phoebus. "

"Ah! Mr. Phoebus!" said the stranger, with a smile. "He is an oldacquaintance of mine. And I must say he is very consistent--except inpaying a visit to Jerusalem. That does surprise me. He said to me theother night the same things as he said to me at Rome many years ago. Hewould revive the worship of Nature. The deities whom he so eloquentlydescribes and so exquisitely delineates are the ideal personificationsof the most eminent human qualities, and chiefly the physical. Physicalbeauty is his standard of excellence, and he has a fanciful theory thatmoral order would be the consequence of the worship of physical beauty, for without moral order he holds physical beauty cannot be maintained. But the answer to Mr. Phoebus is, that his system has been tried andhas failed, and under conditions more favorable than are likely toexist again; the worship of Nature ended in the degradation of the humanrace. "

"But Mr. Phoebus cannot really believe in Apollo and Venus, " saidLothair. "These are phrases. He is, I suppose, what is called aPantheist. "

"No doubt the Olympus of Mr. Phoebus is the creation of his easel, "replied the Syrian. "I should not, however, describe him as a Pantheist, whose creed requires more abstraction than Mr. Phoebus, the worshipperof nature, would tolerate. His school never care to pursue anyinvestigation which cannot be followed by the eye--and the worship ofthe beautiful always ends in an orgy. As for Pantheism, it is Atheism indomino. The belief in a Creator who is unconscious of creating is moremonstrous than any dogma of any of the Churches in this city, and wehave them all here. "

"But there are people now who tell you that there never was anyCreation, and therefore there never could have been a Creator, " saidLothair. 

"And which is now advanced with the confidences of novelty, " said theSyrian, "though all of it has been urged, and vainly urged, thousands ofyears ago. There must be design, or all we see would be without sense, and I do not believe in the unmeaning. As for the natural forces towhich all creation is now attributed, we know they are unconscious, while consciousness is as inevitable a portion of our existence as theeye or the hand. The conscious cannot be derived from the unconscious. Man is divine. "

"I wish I could assure myself of the personality of the Creator, " saidLothair. "I cling to that, but they say it is unphilosophical. "

"In what sense?" asked the Syrian. "Is it more unphilosophical tobelieve in a personal God, omnipotent and omniscient, than in naturalforces unconscious and irresistible? Is it unphilosophical to combinepower with intelligence? Goethe, a Spinozist who did not believe inSpinoza, said that he could bring his mind to the conception that in thecentre of space we might meet with a monad of pure intelligence. Whatmay be the centre of space I leave to the daedal imagination of theauthor of 'Faust;' but a monad of pure intelligence--is that morephilosophical than the truth, first revealed to man amid theseeverlasting hills, " said the Syrian, "that God made man in His ownimage?"

"I have often found in that assurance a source of sublime consolation, "said Lothair. 

"It is the charter of the nobility of man, " said the Syrian, "one of thedivine dogmas revealed in this land; not the invention of councils, notone of which was held on this sacred soil, confused assemblies firstgot together by the Greeks, and then by barbarous nations in barbaroustimes. "

"Yet the divine land no longer tells us divine things, " said Lothair. 

"It may or it may not have fulfilled its destiny, " said the Syrian. "'Inmy Father's house are many mansions, ' and by the various families ofnations the designs of the Creator are accomplished. God works by races, and one was appointed in due season and after many developments toreveal and expound in this land the spiritual nature of man. The Aryanand the Semite are of the same blood and origin, but when they quittedtheir central land they were ordained to follow opposite courses. Eachdivision of the great race has developed one portion of the doublenature of humanity, till, after all their wanderings, they met again, and, represented by their two choicest families, the Hellenes and theHebrews, brought together the treasures of their accumulated wisdom, andsecured the civilization of man. "

"Those among whom I have lived of late, " said Lothair, "have taught meto trust much in councils, and to believe that without them there couldbe no foundation for the Church. I observe you do not speak in thatvein, though, like myself, you find solace in those dogmas whichrecognize the relations between the created and the Creator. "

"There can be no religion without that recognition, " said the Syrian, "and no creed can possibly be devised without such a recognition thatwould satisfy man. Why we are here, whence we come, whither we go--theseare questions which man is organically framed and forced to ask himself, and that would not be the case if they could not be answered. As forchurches depending on councils, the first council was held more thanthree centuries after the Sermon on the Mount. We Syrians had churchesin the interval: no one can deny that. I bow before the Divine decreethat swept them away from Antioch to Jerusalem, but I am not yetprepared to transfer my spiritual allegiance to Italian popes and Greekpatriarchs. We believe that our family were among the first followers ofJesus, and that we then held lands in Bashan which we hold now. We hada gospel once in our district where there was some allusion to this, andbeing written by neighbors, and probably at the time, I dare say itwas accurate, but the Western Churches declared our gospel was notauthentic, though why I cannot tell, and they succeeded in extirpatingit. It was not an additional reason why we, should enter into theirfold. So I am content to dwell in Galilee and trace the footsteps of myDivine Master, musing over His life and pregnant sayings amid the mountsHe sanctified and the waters He loved so well. "

The sun was now rising in the heavens, and the hour had arrived when itbecame expedient to seek the shade. Lothair and the Syrian rose at thesame time. 

"I shall not easily forget our conversation on the Mount of Olives, "said Lothair, "and I would ask you to add to this kindness by permittingme, before I leave Jerusalem, to pay my respects to you under yourroof. "

"Peace be with you!" said the Syrian. "I live without the gate ofDamascus, on a hill which you will easily recognize, and my name isPARACLETE. "

CHAPTER 78

Time passed very agreeably to St. Aldegonde and Bertram at Jerusalem, for it was passed entirely at the Russian consulate, or with itsinteresting and charming inmates, who were always making excursions, or, as they styled them, pilgrimages. They saw little of Lothair, who wouldwillingly have conversed with his friend on many topics, but his friendwas almost always engaged, and, if by some chance they succeeded infinding themselves alone, Bertram appeared to be always preoccupied. One day he said to Lothair: "I tell you what, old fellow, if you wantto know all about what has happened at home, I will give you Corisande'sletters. They are a sort of journal which she promised to keep for me, and they will tell you every thing. I found an immense packet of them onour return from Cairo, and I meant to have read them here; but I do notknow how it is--I suppose there is so much to be seen here--but I neverseem to have a moment to myself. I have got an engagement now to theconsulate. We are going to Elisha's Fountain to-day. Why do not youcome?"

"Well, I am engaged too, " said Lothair. "I have settled to go to theTombs of the Kings to-day, with Signor Paraclete, and I cannot well getoff; but remember the letters. "

The box of letters arrived at Lothair's rooms in due season, and theirperusal deeply interested him. In their pages, alike earnest and lively, and a picture of a mind of high intelligence adorned with fancyand feeling, the name of Lothair frequently appeared, and sometimesaccompanied with expressions that made his heart beat. All the rumorsof his adventures, as they gradually arrived in England, generallydistorted, were duly chronicled, and sometimes with comments, whichintimated the interest they occasioned to the correspondent of Bertram. More than once she could not refrain from reproaching her brother forhaving left his friend so much to himself. "Of all your friends, " shesaid, "the one who always most interested me, and seemed most worthy ofyour affection. " And then she deplored the absolute ruin of Lothair, forsuch she deemed his entrance into the Roman Church. 

"I was right in my appreciation of that woman, though I was utterlyinexperienced in life, " thought Lothair. "If her mother had only favoredmy views two years ago, affairs would have been different. Would theyhave been better? Can they be worse? But I have gained experience. Certainly; and paid for it with my heart's blood. And might I not havegained experience tranquilly, in the discharge of the duties of myposition at home--dear home? Perhaps not. And suppose I never had gainedexperience, I still might have been happy? And what am I now? Most loneand sad. So lone and sad that nothing but the magical influence of thescene around me saves me from an overwhelming despondency. "

Lothair passed his life chiefly with Paraclete, and, a few weeks aftertheir first acquaintance, they left Jerusalem together for Galilee. 

The month of May had disappeared, and June was advancing. Bertram andSaint Aldegonde no longer talked about their pair, and their engagementsin the House of Commons. There seemed a tacit understanding betweenthem to avoid the subject; remarkable on the part of Bertram, for he hadalways been urgent on his brother-in-law to fulfil their parliamentaryobligation. 

The party at the Russian consulate had gone on a grand expedition to theDead Sea, and had been absent for many days from Jerusalem. They wereconveyed by one of the sheiks of the Jordan valley. It was a mostsuccessful expedition--constant adventure, novel objects and habits, allthe spell of a romantic life. The ladies were delighted with the sceneryof the Jordan valley, and the gentlemen had good sport; St. Aldegondehad killed a wild-boar, and Bertram an ibex, whose horns were preservedfor Brentham. Mr. Phoebus intensely studied the camel and its habits. Hepersuaded himself that the ship of the desert entirely understood him. "But it is always so, " he added. "There is no animal that in a week doesnot perfectly comprehend me. Had I time and could give myself up to it, I have no doubt I could make them speak. Nature has endowed me, so faras dumb animals are concerned, with a peculiar mesmeric power. "

At last this happy caravan was again within sight of the walls ofJerusalem. 

"I should like to have remained in the valley of the Jordan forever, "said St. Aldegonde. 

"And so should I, " whispered Bertram to Euphrosyne, "with the samecompanions. "

When they had returned to the consulate, they found the post fromEngland had arrived during their absence. There were dispatches for all. It is an agitating moment--that arrival of letters in a distant land. Lord St. Aldegonde seemed much disturbed when he tore open and perusedhis. His countenance became clouded; he dashed his hand through hisdishevelled locks; he pouted; and then he said to Bertram, "Come to myroom. "

"Anything wrong at home?"

"Not at home, " said St. Aldegonde. "Bertha is all right. But a mostinfernal letter from Glyn--most insolent. If I do return I will voteagainst them. But I will not return. I have made up my mind to that. People are so selfish, " exclaimed St. Aldegonde, with indignation. "Theynever think of any thing but themselves. "

"Show me his letter, " said Bertram. "I have got a letter too; it is fromthe duke. "

The letter of the Opposition whip did not deserve the epithets ascribedto it by St. Aldegonde. It was urgent and courteously peremptory; but, considering the circumstances of the case, by no means too absolute. Paired to Easter by great indulgence, St. Aldegonde was passingWhitsuntide at Jerusalem. The parliamentary position was critical, andthe future of the Opposition seemed to depend on the majority by whichtheir resolutions on the Irish Church were sent up to the House ofLords. 

"Well, " said Bertram. "I see nothing to complain of in that letter. Except a little more urgency, it is almost the same language as reachedus at Cairo, and then you said Glyn was a capital fellow, and seemedquite pleased. "

"Yes, because I hated Egypt, " said St. Aldegonde. "I hated the pyramids, and I was disappointed with the dancing-girls; and it seemed to methat, if it had not been for the whip, we never should have been able toescape. But things are very different now. "

"Yes, they are, " said Bertram, in a melancholy tone. 

"You do not think of returning?" said St. Aldegonde. 

"Instantly, " replied Bertram. "I have a letter from the duke which isperemptory. The county is dissatisfied with my absence. And mine isa queer constituency; very numerous and several large towns; thepopularity of my family gained me the seat, not their absoluteinfluence. "

"My constituents never trouble me, " said St. Aldegonde. 

"You have none, " said Bertram. 

"Well, if I were member for a metropolitan district I would hot budge. And I little thought you would have deserted me. "

"Ah!" sighed Bertram. "You're discontented, because your amusements areinterrupted. But think of my position, torn from a woman whom I adore. "

"Well, you know you must have left her sooner or later, " urged St. Aldegonde. 

"Why?" asked Bertram. 

"You know what Lothair told us. She is engaged to her cousin the Princeof Samos, and--"

"If I had only the Prince of Samos to deal with, I should care little, "said Bertram. 

"Why, what do you mean?"

"That Euphrosyne is mine, if my family will sanction our union, but nototherwise. "

St. Aldegonde gave a long whistle, and he added, "I wish Bertha werehere. She is the only person I know who has a head. "

"You see, my dear Granville, while you are talking of your littledisappointments, I am involved in awful difficulties. "

"You are sure about the Palace of Samos?"

"Clear your head of that. There is no engagement of any kind betweenhim and Euphrosyne. The visit to the island was only a preliminaryceremony--just to show himself. No doubt the father wishes the alliance;nor is there any reason to suppose that it would be disagreeable to theson; but, I repeat it--no engagement exists. "

"If I were not your brother-in-law, I should have been very glad to havemarried Euphrosyne myself, " said St. Aldegonde. 

"Yes, but what am I to do?" asked Bertram, rather impatiently. 

"It will not do to write to Brentham, " said St. Aldegonde, gravely;"that I see clearly. " Then, after musing a while, he added: "I am vexedto leave our friends here and shall miss them sadly. They are the mostagreeable people I ever knew. I never enjoyed myself so much. But wemust think of nothing but your affairs. We must return instantly. Thewhip will be an excuse, but the real business will be Euphrosyne. Ishould delight in having her for a sister-in-law, but the affair willrequire management. We can make short work of getting home: steam toMarseilles, leave the yacht there, and take the railroad. I have halfa mind to telegraph to Bertha to meet us there. She would be of greatuse. "

CHAPTER 79

Lothair was delighted with Galilee, and particularly with the bluewaters of its lake slumbering beneath the surrounding hills. Of all itsonce pleasant towns, Tiberias alone remains, and that in ruins from arecent earthquake. But where are Chorazin, and Bethsaida, and Capernaum?A group of hovels and an ancient tower still bear the magic name ofMagdala, and all around are green mounts and gentle slopes, the scenesof miracles that softened the heart of man, and of sermons that nevertire his ear. Dreams passed over Lothair of settling forever on theshores of these waters, and of reproducing all their vanished happiness:rebuilding their memorable cities, reviving their fisheries, cultivatingthe plain of Gennesaret and the country of the Gadarenes, and makingresearches in this cradle of pure and primitive Christianity. 

The heritage of Paraclete was among the oaks of Bashan, a lofty land, rising suddenly from the Jordan valley, verdant and well watered, andclothed in many parts with forest; there the host of Lothair residedamong his lands and people, and himself dwelt in a stone and castellatedbuilding, a portion of which was of immemorial antiquity, and where hecould rally his forces and defend himself in case of the irruption andinvasion of the desert tribes. And here one morn arrived a messengerfrom Jerusalem summoning Lothair back to that city, in consequence ofthe intended departure of his friends. 

The call was urgent, and was obeyed immediately with that promptitudewhich the manners of the East, requiring no preparation, admit. Paraclete accompanied his guest. They had to cross the Jordan, and thento trace their way till they reached the southern limit of the plainof Esdraelon, from whence they counted on the following day to reachJerusalem. While they were encamped on this spot, a body of Turkishsoldiery seized all their horses, which were required, they said, by thePacha of Damascus, who was proceeding to Jerusalem, attending a greatTurkish general, who was on a mission to examine the means of defenceof Palestine on the Egyptian side. This was very vexatious, but oneof those incidents of Eastern life against which it is impossible tocontend; so Lothair and Paraclete were obliged to take refuge in theirpipes beneath a huge and solitary sycamore-tree, awaiting the arrival ofthe Ottoman magnificoes. 

They came at last, a considerable force of cavalry, then mules andbarbarous carriages with the harem, all the riders and inmates envelopedin what appeared to be winding-sheets, white and shapeless; about themeunuchs and servants. The staff of the pachas followed, preceding thegrandees who closed the march, mounted on Anatolian chargers. 

Paraclete and Lothair had been obliged to leave the grateful shade ofthe sycamore-tree, as the spot had been fixed on by the commander of theadvanced guard for the resting-place of the pachas. They were standingaside and watching the progress of the procession, and contemplating theearliest opportunity of representing their grievances to high authority, when the Turkish general, or the seraskier, as the Syrians inaccuratelystyled him, suddenly reined in his steed, and said, in a loud voice, "Captain Muriel!"

Lothair recognized the well-known voice of his commanding officer inthe Apennine, and advanced to him with a military salute. "I mustfirst congratulate you on being alive, which I hardly hoped, " said thegeneral. "Then let me know why you are here. "

And Lothair told him. 

"Well, you shall have back your horses, " said the general; "and I willescort you to El Khuds. In the mean time you must be our guest;" and hepresented him to the Pacha of Damascus with some form. "You and I havebivouacked in the open air before this, and not in so bland a clime. "

Beneath the shade of the patriarchal sycamore, the general narrated toLothair his adventures since they were fellow-combatants on the fatalfield of Mentana. 

"When all was over, " continued the general, "I fled with Garibaldi, andgained the Italian frontier at Terrni. Here we were of course arrestedby the authorities, but not very maliciously. I escaped one morning, andgot among the mountains in the neighborhood of our old camp. I had towander about these parts for some time, for the Papalini were in thevicinity, and there was danger. It was a hard time; but I found afriend now and then among the country people, though they are dreadfullysuperstitious. At last I got to the shore, and induced an honest fellowto put to sea in an open boat, on the chance of something turning up. Itdid, in the shape of a brigantine from Elba bound for Corfu. Here Iwas sure to find friends, for the brotherhood are strong in the IonianIsles. And I began to look about for business. The Greeks made me someoffers, but their schemes were all vanity, worse than the Irish. Youremember our Fenian squabble? From something that transpired, I had madeup my mind, so soon as I was well equipped, to go to Turkey. I had hadsome transactions with the house of Cantacuzene, through the kindness ofour dear friend whom we will never forget, but will never mention; andthrough them I became acquainted with the Prince of Samos, who is thechief of their house. He is in the entire confidence of Aali Pacha. Isoon found out that there was real business on the carpet. The Ottomanarmy, after many trials and vicissitudes, is now in good case; and thePorte has resolved to stand no more nonsense either in this direction--"and the general gave a significant glance--"or in any other. But theywanted a general; they wanted a man who knew his business. I am not aGaribaldi, you know, and never pretended to be. I have no genius, orvolcanic fire, or that sort of thing; but I do presume to say, withfair troops, paid with tolerable regularity, a battery or two of rifledcannon, and a well-organized commissariat, I am not afraid of meetingany captain of my acquaintance, whatever his land or language. The Turksare a brave people, and there is nothing in their system, political orreligious, which jars with my convictions. In the army, which is allthat I much care for, there is the career of merit, and I can promoteany able man that I recognize. As for their religion, they are tolerantand exact nothing from me; and if I had any religion except MadreNatura, I am not sure I would not prefer Islamism; which is at leastsimple, and as little sacerdotal as any organized creed can be. ThePorte made me a liberal offer, and I accepted it. It so happened that, the moment I entered their service, I was wanted. They had a difficultyon their Dalmatian frontier; I settled it in a way they liked. And now Iam sent here with full powers, and am a pacha of the highest class, andwith a prospect of some warm work. I do not know what your views are, but, if you would like a little more soldiering, I will put you on mystaff; and, for aught I know, we may find your winter-quarters at GrandCairo--they say a pleasant place for such a season. "

"My soldiering has not been very fortunate, " said Lothair; "and I am notquite as great an admirer of the Turks as you are, general. My mind israther on the pursuits of peace, and twenty hours ago I had a dream ofsettling on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. "

"Whatever you do, " said the general, "give up dreams. "

"I think you may be right in that, " said Lothair, with half a sigh. 

"Action may not always be happiness, " said the general; "but there isno happiness without action. If you will not fight the Egyptians, were Iyou, I would return home and plunge into affairs. That was a fine castleof yours I visited one morning; a man who lives in such a place must beable to find a great deal to do. "

"I almost wish I were there, with you for my companion, " said Lothair. 

"The wheel may turn, " said the general; "but I begin to think I shallnot see much of Europe again. I have given it some of my best years andbest blood; and, if I had assisted in establishing the Roman republic, I should not have lived in vain; but the old imposture seems to mestronger than ever. I have got ten good years in me yet; and, if Ibe well supported and in luck, for, after all, every thing depends onfortune, and manage to put a couple of hundred thousand men in perfectdiscipline, I may find some consolation for not blowing up St. Peter's, and may do something for the freedom of mankind on the banks of theDanube. "

CHAPTER 80

Mrs. Putney Giles, in full toilet, was standing before the mantel-pieceof her drawing-room in Hyde Park Gardens, and watching, with someanxiety, the clock that rested on it. It was the dinner-hour, and Mr. Putney Giles, particular in such matters, had not returned. No onelooked forward to his dinner, and a chat with his wife, with greaterzest than Mr. Putney Giles; and he deserved the gratification whichboth incidents afforded him, for he fairly earned it. Full of news andbustle, brimful of importance and prosperity, sunshiny and successful, his daily return home--which, with many, perhaps most, men, is a processlugubriously monotonous--was in Hyde Park Gardens, even to Apollonia, who possessed many means of amusement and occupation, a source ever ofinterest and excitement. 

To-day too, particularly, for their great client, friend, and patron, Lothair, had arrived last night, from the Continent, at Muriel House, and had directed Mr. Putney Giles to be in attendance on him on theafternoon of this day. 

Muriel House was a family mansion in the Green Park. It was built ofhewn stone, during the last century--a Palladian edifice, for a timemuch neglected, but now restored and duly prepared for the receptionof its lord and master by the same combined energy and taste which hadproved so satisfactory and successful at Muriel Towers. 

It was a long room, the front saloon at Hyde Park Gardens, and the doorwas as remote as possible from the mantel-piece. It opened suddenly, butonly the panting face of Mr. Putney Giles was seen, as he poured forthin hurried words: "My dear, dreadfully late, but I can dress in fiveminutes. I only opened the door in passing, to tell you that I have seenour great friend; wonderful man! but I will tell you all at dinner, orafter. It was not he who kept me, but the Duke of Brecon. The duke hasbeen with me two hours. I had a good mind to bring him home to dinner, and give him a bottle of my '48. They like that sort of thing, but itwill keep, " and the head vanished. 

The Duke of Brecon would not have dined ill, had he honored thishousehold. It is a pleasant thing to see an opulent and prosperous manof business, sanguine and full of health, and a little overworked, atthat royal meal, dinner. How he enjoys his soup! And how curious in hisfish! How critical in his entr e, and how nice in his Welsh mutton! Hisexhausted brain rallies under the glass of dry sherry, and he realizesall his dreams with the aid of claret that has the true flavor of theviolet. 

"And now, my dear Apollonia, " said Mr. Putney Giles, when the servantshad retired, and he turned his chair and played with a new nut from theBrazils, "about our great friend. Well, I was there at two o'clock, andfound him at breakfast. Indeed, he said that, had he not given me anappointment, he thought he should not have risen at all. So delightedhe was to find himself again in an English bed. Well, he told me everything that had happened. I never knew a man so unreserved, and sodifferent from what he was when I first knew him, for he never muchcared then to talk about himself. But no egotism, nothing of that sortof thing--all his mistakes, all his blunders, as he called them. He toldme every thing, that I might thoroughly understand his position, andthat he might judge whether the steps I had taken in reference to itwere adequate. "

"I suppose about his religion, " said Apollonia. "What is he, after all?"

"As sound as you are. But you are right; that was the point on which hewas most anxious. He wrote, you know, to me from Malta, when theaccount of his conversion first appeared, to take all necessary steps tocontradict the announcement, and counteract its consequences. He gave mecarte blanche, and was anxious to know precisely what I had done. Itold him that a mere contradiction, anonymous, or from a third person, however unqualified its language, would have no effect in the face ofa detailed narrative, like that in all the papers, of his walking inprocession and holding a lighted taper, and all that sort of thing. WhatI did was this. I commenced building, by his direction, two new churcheson his estate, and announced in the local journals, copied in London, that he would be present at the consecration of both. I subscribed, inhis name, and largely, to all the diocesan societies, gave a thousandpounds to the Bishop of London's fund, and accepted for him the officeof steward, for this year, for the Sons of the Clergy. Then, when thepublic feeling was ripe, relieved from all its anxieties, and beginningto get indignant at the calumnies that had been so freely circulated, the time for paragraphs had arrived, and one appeared stating thata discovery had taken place of the means by which an unfounded andpreposterous account of the conversion of a distinguished young Englishnobleman at Rome had been invented and circulated, and would probablyfurnish the occasion for an action for libel. And now his return andappearance at the Chapel Royal, next Sunday, will clinch the wholebusiness. "

"And he was satisfied?"

"Most satisfied; a little anxious whether his personal friends, and particularly the Brentham family, were assured of the truth. Hetravelled home with the duke's son and Lord St. Aldegonde, but they camefrom remote parts, and their news from home was not very recent. "

"And how does he look?"

"Very well; never saw him look better. He is handsomer than he was. Buthe is changed. I could not conceive in a year that any one could be sochanged. He was young for his years; he is now old for his years. Hewas, in fact, a boy; he is now a man; and yet it is only a year. He saidit seemed to him ten. "

"He has been through a fiery furnace, " said Apollonia. 

"Well, he has borne it well, " said Mr. Giles. "It is worth while servingsuch a client, so cordial, so frank, and yet so full of thought. Hesay he does not in the least regret all the money he has wasted. Had heremained at home, it would have gone to building a cathedral. "

"And a popish one!" said Apollonia. "I cannot agree with him, " shecontinued, "that his Italian campaign was a waste of money. It will bearfruit. We shall still see the end of the 'abomination of desolation. '"

"Very likely, " said Mr. Giles; "but I trust my client will have no moreto do with such questions either way. "

"And did he ask after his friends?" said Apollonia. 

"Very much: he asked after you. I think he went through all the guestsat Muriel Towers except the poor Campians. He spoke, to me about thecolonel, to whom it appears he has written; but Theodora he nevermentioned, except by some periphrasis, some allusion to a great sorrow, or to some dear friend whom he had lost. He seems a little embarrassedabout the St. Jeromes, and said more than once that he owed his life toMiss Arundel. He dwelt a good deal upon this. He asked also a great dealabout the Brentham family. They seem the people whom he most affects. When I told him of Lady Corisande's approaching union with the Duke ofBrecon, I did not think he half liked it. "

"But is it settled?"

"The same as--. The duke has been with me two hours to-day about hisarrangements. He has proposed to the parents, who are delighted withthe match, and has received every encouragement from the young lady. Helooks upon it as certain. "

"I wish our kind friend had not gone abroad, " said Apollonia. 

"Well, at any rate, he has come back, " said Mr. Giles; "that issomething. I am sure I more than once never expected to see him again. "

"He has every virtue, and every charm, " said Apollonia, "and principlesthat are now proved. I shall never forget his kindness at the Towers. Iwish he were settled for life. But who is worthy of him? I hope he willnot fall into the clutches of that popish girl. I have sometimes, fromwhat I observed at Muriel, and other reasons, a dread misgiving. "

CHAPTER 81

It was the first night that Lothair had slept in his own house, and, when he awoke in the morning, he was quite bewildered, and thought for amoment he was in the Palazzo Agostini. He had not reposed in so spaciousand lofty a chamber since he was at Rome. And this brought all hisrecollection to his Roman life, and every thing that had happened there. "And yet, after all, " he said, "had it not been for Clare Arundel, I should never have seen Muriel House. I owe to her my life. " Hisrelations with the St. Jerome family were doubtless embarrassing, evenpainful; and yet his tender and susceptible nature could not for amoment tolerate that he should passively submit to an estrangementfrom those who had conferred on him so much kindness, and whoseill-considered and injurious courses, as he now esteemed them, wereperhaps, and probably, influenced and inspired by exalted, even sacredmotives. 

He wondered whether they were in London; and, if so, what should he do?Should he call, or should he write? He wished he could do somethingto show to Miss Arundel how much he appreciated her kindness, and howgrateful he was. She was a fine creature, and all her errors were nobleones; enthusiasm, energy, devotion to a sublime cause. Errors, but arethese errors? Are they not, on the contrary, qualities which shouldcommand admiration in any one? and in a woman--and a beautifulwoman--more than admiration?

There is always something to worry you. It comes as regularly assunrise. Here was Lothair under his own roof again, after strangeand trying vicissitudes, with his health restored, his youth littlediminished, with some strange memories and many sweet ones; on thewhole, once more in great prosperity, and yet his mind harped only onone vexing thought, and that was his painful and perplexed relationswith the St. Jerome family. 

His thoughts were a little distracted from this harassing theme bythe novelty of his house, and the pleasure it gave him. He admired thedouble staircase and the somewhat heavy, yet richly-carved ceilings; andthe look into the park, shadowy and green, with a rich summer sun, andthe palace in the distance. What an agreeable contrast to his hard, noisy sojourn in a bran-new, brobdingnagian hotel, as was his coarsefate when he was launched into London life! This made him think ofmany comforts for which he ought to be grateful, and then he rememberedMuriel Towers, and how completely and capitally every thing was thereprepared and appointed, and while he was thinking over all this--andkindly of the chief author of these satisfactory arrangements, and theinstances in which that individual had shown, not merely professionaldexterity and devotion, but some of the higher qualities that make lifesweet and pleasant--Mr. Putney Giles was announced, and Lothair sprangforward and gave him his hand with a cordiality which repaid at oncethat perfect but large-hearted lawyer for all his exertions, and someanxieties that he had never expressed even to Apollonia. 

Nothing in life is more remarkable than the unnecessary anxiety whichwe endure, and generally, occasion ourselves. Between four and fiveo'clock, having concluded his long conference with Mr. Putney Giles, Lothair, as if he were travelling the principal street of a foreigntown, or rather treading on tiptoe like a prince in some enchantedcastle, ventured to walk down St. James Street, and the very firstperson he met was Lord St. Jerome!

Nothing could be more unaffectedly hearty than his greeting by that goodman and thorough gentleman. "I saw, by the Post, you had arrived, " saidLord St. Jerome, "and we were all saying at breakfast how glad we shouldbe to see you again. And looking so well! Quite yourself! I never sawyou looking better. You have been to Egypt with Lord St. Aldegonde, Ithink? It was the wisest thing you could do. I said to Gertrude, whenyou went to Sicily, 'If I were Lothair, I would go a good deal fartherthan Sicily. ' You wanted change of scene and air, more than any man Iknow. "

"And how are they all?" said Lothair; "my first visit will be to them. "

"And they will be delighted to see you. Lady St. Jerome is a littleindisposed--a cold caught at one of her bazaars. She will hold them, andthey say that no one ever sells so much. But still, as I often say, 'Mydear Gertrude, would it not be better if I were to give you a checkfor the institution; it would be the same to them, and would save youa great deal of trouble. ' But she fancies her presence inspires others, and perhaps there is something in it. "

"I doubt not; and Miss Arundel?"

"Clare is quite well, and I am hurrying home now to ride with her. Ishall tell her that you asked after her. "

"And offer her my kindest remembrances. "

"What a relief!" exclaimed Lothair, when once more alone. "I thought Ishould have sunk into the earth when he first addressed me, and now Iwould not have missed this meeting for any consideration. "

He had not the courage to go into White's. He was under a vagueimpression that the whole population of the metropolis, and especiallythose who reside in the sacred land, bounded on the one side byPiccadilly, and on the other by Pall Mall, were unceasingly talkingof his scrapes and misadventures; but he met Lord Carisbrooke and Mr. Brancepeth. 

"Ah! Lothair, " said Carisbrooke, "I do not think we have seen youthis season--certainly not since Easter. What have you been doing withyourself?"

"You have been in Egypt?" said Mr. Brancepeth. "The duke was mentioningat White's to-day that you had returned with his son and Lord St. Aldegonde. "

"And does it pay?" inquired Carisbrooke. "Egypt? What I have foundgenerally in this sort of thing is, that one hardly knows what to dowith one's evenings. "

"There is something in that, " said Lothair, "and perhaps it applies toother countries besides Egypt. However, though it is true I did returnwith St. Aldegonde and Bertram, I have myself not been to Egypt. "

"And where did you pick them up?"

"At Jerusalem. "

"Jerusalem! What on earth could they go to Jerusalem for?" said LordCarisbrooke. "I am told there is no sort of sport there. They say, inthe Upper Nile, there is good shooting. "

"St. Aldegonde was disappointed. I suppose our countrymen have disturbedthe crocodiles and frightened away the pelicans?"

"We were going to look in at White's--come with us. "

Lothair was greeted with general kindness; but nobody seemed aware thathe had been long and unusually absent from them. Some had themselves notcome up to town till after Easter, and had therefore less cause to misshim. The great majority, however, were so engrossed with themselves thatthey never missed anybody. The Duke of Brecon appealed to Lothairabout something that had happened at the last Derby, and was under theimpression, until better informed, that Lothair had been one of hisparty. There were some exceptions to this general unacquaintance withevents which an hour before Lothair had feared fearfully engrossedsociety. Hugo Bohun was doubly charmed to see him, "because we were allin a fright one day that they were going to make you a cardinal, and itturned out that, at the very time they said you were about to enter theconclave, you happened to be at the second cataract. What lies thesenewspapers do tell!"

But the climax of relief was reached when the noble and gray-headedpatron of the arts in Great Britain approached him with polishedbenignity, and said, "I can give you perhaps even later news than youcan give me of our friends at Jerusalem. I had a letter from MadamePhoebus this morning, and she mentioned with great regret that you hadjust left them. Your first travels, I believe?"

"My first. "

"And wisely planned. You were right in starting out and seeing thedistant parts. One may not always have the energy which such anexpedition requires. You can keep Italy for a later and calmer day. "

Thus, one by one, all the cerulean demons of the morn had vanished, and Lothair had nothing to worry him. He felt a little dull as thedinner-hour approached. Bertram was to dine at home, and then go tothe House of Commons; St. Aldegonde, concluding the day with the samecatastrophe, had in the most immoral manner, in the interval, gone tothe play to see "School, " of which he had read an account in Galignaniwhen he was in quarantine. Lothair was so displeased with this unfeelingconduct on his part that he declined to accompany him; but Lady St. Aldegonde, who dined at Crecy House, defended her husband, and thoughtit very right and reasonable that one so fond of the drama as he, whohad been so long deprived of gratifying his taste in that respect, should take the first opportunity of enjoying this innocent amusement. A solitary dinner at Muriel House, in one of those spacious and loftychambers, rather appalled Lothair, and he was getting low again, remembering nothing but his sorrows, when Mr. Pinto came up to him andsaid: "The impromptu is always successful in life; you cannot be engagedto dinner, for everybody believes you are at Jericho. What say you todining with me? Less than the Muses and more than the Graces, certainly, if you come. Lady Beatrice has invited herself, and she is to pick upa lady, and I was to look out for a couple of agreeable men. Huge iscoming, and you will complete the charm. "

"The spell then is complete, " said Lothair; "I suppose a late eight. "

CHAPTER 82

Lothair was breakfasting alone on the morrow, when his servant announcedthe arrival of Mr. Ruby, who had been ordered to be in attendance. 

"Show him up, " said Lothair, "and bring me the dispatch-box which is inmy dressing-room. "

Mr. Ruby was deeply gratified to be again in the presence of a noblemanso eminently distinguished, both for his property and his taste, asLothair. He was profuse in his congratulations to his lordship on hisreturn to his native land, while at the same time he was opening a bag, from which he extracted a variety of beautiful objects, none of themfor sale, all executed commissions, which were destined to adorn thefortunate and the fair. "This is lovely, my lord, quite new, for theQueen of Madagascar; for the empress this, her majesty's own design, atleast almost. Lady Melton's bridal necklace, and my lord's George, thelast given by King James II. ; broken up during the revolution, but resetby us from an old drawing with picked stones. "

"Very pretty, " said Lothair; "but it is not exactly this sort of thingthat I want. See, " and he opened the dispatch-box, and took from outof it a crucifix. It was made of some Eastern wood, inlaid withmother-of-pearl; the figure carved in brass, though not without power, and at the end of each of the four terminations of the cross was a smallcavity, enclosing something, and covered with glass. 

"See, " continued Lothair, "this is the crucifix, given with a carvedshell to each pilgrim who visits the Holy Sepulchre. Within these fourcavities is earth from the four holy places: Calvary, Sion, Bethlehem, and Gethsemane. Now, what I want is a crucifix, something of thisdimension, but made of the most costly materials; the figure must be ofpure gold; I should like the cross to be of choice emeralds, which I amtold are now more precious even than brilliants, and I wish the earth ofthe sacred places to be removed from this crucifix, and introduced in asimilar manner into the one which you are to make; and each cavity mustbe covered with a slit diamond. Do you understand?"

"I follow you, my lord, " said Mr. Ruby, with glistening eyes. "It willbe a rare jewel. Is there to be a limit as to the cost?"

"None but such as taste and propriety suggest, " said Lothair. "You willof course make a drawing and an estimate, and send them to me; but Idesire dispatch. "

When Mr. Ruby had retired, Lothair took from the dispatch-box a sealedpacket, and looked at it for some moments, and then pressed it to hislips. 

In the afternoon, Lothair found himself again in the saddle, and wasriding about London, as if he had never quitted it. He left his cardsat Crecy House, and many other houses, and he called at the St. Jeromes'late, but asked if they were at home. He had reckoned that they wouldnot be, and his reckoning was right. It was impossible to conceal fromhimself that it was a relief. Mr. Putney Giles dined alone with Lothairthis evening, and they talked over many things; among others theapproaching marriage of Lady Corisande with the Duke of Brecon. 

"Everybody marries except myself, " said Lothair, rather peevishly. 

"But your lordship is too young to think of that yet, " said Mr. PutneyGiles. 

"I feel very old, " said Lothair. 

At this moment there arrived a note from Bertram, saying his mother wasquite surprised and disappointed that Lothair had not asked to seeher in the morning. She had expected him, as a matter of course, atluncheon, and begged that he would come on the morrow. 

"I have had many pleasant luncheons in that house, " said Lothair, "butthis will be the last. When all the daughters are married, nobody eatsluncheon. "

"That would hardly apply to this family, " said Mr. Putney Giles, whoalways affected to know every thing, and generally did. "They are sounited, that I fancy the famous luncheons at Crecy House will always goon, and be a popular mode of their all meeting. "

"I half agree with St. Aldegonde, " said Lothair, grumbling to himself, "that if one is to meet that Duke of Brecon every day at luncheon, formy part I had rather stay away. "

In the course of the evening there also arrived invitations to all theimpending balls and assemblies, for Lothair; and there seemed littleprospect of his again being forced to dine with his faithful solicitoras a refuge from melancholy. 

On the morrow he went in his brougham to Crecy House, and he had sucha palpitation of the heart when he arrived, that, for a moment, heabsolutely thought he must retire. His mind was full of Jerusalem, theMount of Olives, and the Sea of Galilee. He was never nervous there, never agitated, never harassed, no palpitations of the heart, no dreadsuspense. There was repose alike of body and soul. Why did he everleave Palestine and Paraclete? He should have remained in Syria forever, cherishing, in a hallowed scene, a hallowed sorrow, of which even thebitterness was exalted and ennobling. 

He stood for a moment in the great hall at Crecy House, and the groomof the chambers in vain solicited his attention. It was astonishinghow much passed through his mind while the great clock hardly describedsixty seconds. But in that space he had reviewed his life, arrived atthe conclusion that all was vanity and bitterness, that he had failedin every thing, was misplaced, had no object and no hope, and that adistant and unbroken solitude in some scene, where either the majesty ofNature was overwhelming, or its moral associations were equally sublime, must be his only refuge. In the meditation of the Cosmos, or in thedivine reverie of sacred lands, the burden of existence might beendured. 

"Her grace is at luncheon, my lord, " at length said the groom of thechamber--and Lothair was ushered into the gay, and festive, and cordialscene. The number of the self-invited guests alone saved him. Hisconfusion was absolute, and the duchess remarked afterward that Lothairseemed to have regained all his shyness. 

When Lothair had rallied and could survey the scene, he found he wassitting by his hostess; that the duke, not a luncheon man, was present, and, as it turned out afterward, for the pleasure of meeting Lothair. Bertram also was present, and several married daughters, and LordMontairy, and Captain Mildmay, and one or two others; and next to LadyCorisande was the Duke of Brecon. 

So far as Lothair was concerned, the luncheon was unsuccessful. Hisconversational powers deserted him. He answered in monosyllables, andnever originated a remark. He was greatly relieved when they rose andreturned to the gallery, in which they seemed all disposed to linger. The duke approached him, and, in his mood, he found it easier to talk tomen than to women. Male conversation is of a coarser grain, and does notrequire so much play of thought and manner; discourse about Suez Canal, and Arab horses, and pipes, and pachas, can be carried on without anypsychological effort, and, by degrees, banishes all sensibility. And yethe was rather dreamy, talked better than he listened, did not look hiscompanion in the face, as the duke spoke, which was his custom, and hiseye was wandering. Suddenly, Bertram having joined them, and speaking tohis father, Lothair darted away and approached Lady Corisande, whom LadyMontairy had just quitted. 

"As I may never have the opportunity again, " said Lothair, "let me thankyou, Lady Corisande, for some kind thoughts which you deigned to bestowon me in my absence. "

His look was serious; his tone almost sad. Neither were in keeping withthe scene and the apparent occasion; and Lady Corisande, not displeased, but troubled, murmured: "Since I last met you, I heard you had seen muchand suffered much. "

"And that makes the kind thoughts of friends more precious, " saidLothair. "I have few; your brother is the chief, but even he never didme any kindness so great as when he told me that you had spoken of mewith sympathy. "

"Bertram's friends are mine, " said Lady Corisande; "but, otherwise, itwould be impossible for us all not to feel an interest in--, one of whomwe had seen so much, " she added, with some hesitation. 

"Ah, Brentham!" said Lothair; "dear Brentham! Do you remember oncesaying to me that you hoped you should never leave Brentham?"

"Did I say so?" said Lady Corisande. 

"I wish I had never left Brentham, " said Lothair; "it was the happiesttime of my life. I had not then a sorrow or a care. "

"But everybody has sorrows and cares, " said Lady Corisande; "you have, however, a great many things which ought to make you happy. "

"I do not deserve to be happy, " said Lothair, "for I have made so manymistakes. My only consolation is that one great error, which you mostdeprecated, I have escaped. "

"Take a brighter and a nobler view of your life, " said Lady Corisande;"feel rather you have been tried and not found wanting. "

At this moment the duchess approached them, and interrupted theirconversation; and, soon after this, Lothair left Crecy House, stillmoody, but less despondent. 

There was a ball at Lady Clanmorne's in the evening, and Lothair waspresent. He was astonished at the number of new faces he saw, the newphrases he heard, the new fashions alike in dress and manner. He couldnot believe it was the same world that he had quitted only a year ago. He was glad to take refuge with Hugo Bohun as with an old friend, andcould not refrain from expressing to that eminent person his surprise atthe novelty of all around him. 

"It is you, my dear Lothair, " replied Hugo, "that is surprising, not theworld--that has only developed in your absence. What could have induceda man like you to be away for a whole season from the scene? Ourforefathers might afford to travel--the world was then stereotyped. Itwill not do to be out of sight now. It is very well for St. Aldegonde todo these things, for the great object of St. Aldegonde is not to be insociety, and he has never succeeded in his object. But here is the newbeauty. "

There was a stir and a sensation. Men made way, and even womenretreated--and, leaning on the arm of Lord Carisbrooke, in an exquisitecostume that happily displayed her splendid figure, and, radiantwith many charms, swept by a lady of commanding mien and stature, self-possessed, and even grave, when, suddenly turning her head, herpretty face broke into enchanting dimples, as she exclaimed: "Oh, cousinLothair!"

Yes, the beautiful giantesses of Muriel Towers had become the beautiesof the season. Their success had been as sudden and immediate as it wascomplete and sustained. "Well, this is stranger than all!" said Lothairto Hugo Bohun when Lady Flora had passed on. 

"The only persons talked of, " said Hugo. "I am proud of my previousacquaintance with them. I think Carisbrooke has serious thoughts; butthere are some who prefer Lady Grizell. "

"Lady Corisande was your idol last season, " said Lothair. 

"Oh, she is out of the running, " said Hugo; "she is finished. But I havenot heard yet of any day being fixed. I wonder, when he marries, whetherBrecon will keep on his theatre?"

"His theatre!"

"Yes; the high mode now for a real swell is to have a theatre. Breconhas the Frolic; Kate Simmons is his manager, who calls herself Athaliede Montfort. You ought to have a theatre, Lothair; and, if there isnot one to hire, you should build one. It would show that you are aliveagain and had the spirit of an English noble, and atone for some of youreccentricities. "

"But I have no Kate Simmons who calls herself Athalie de Montfort, " saidLothair. "I am not so favored, Hugo. However, I might succeed Brecon, as I hardly suppose he will maintain such an establishment when he ismarried. "

"I beg your pardon, " rejoined Hugo. "It is the thing. Several of ourgreatest swells have theatres and are married. In fact, a first-rate manshould have every thing, and therefore he ought to have both a theatreand a wife. "

"Well, I do not think your manners have improved since, last year, oryour words, " said Lothair. "I have half a mind to go down to Muriel, andshut myself up there. "

He walked away and sauntered into the ballroom. The first forms herecognized were Lady Corisande waltzing with the Duke of Brecon, who wasrenowned for this accomplishment. The heart of Lothair felt bitter. Heremembered his stroll to the dairy with the Duchess at Brentham, andtheir conversation. Had his views then been acceded to, how differentwould have been his lot! And it was not his fault that they had beenrejected. And yet, had they been accomplished, would they have beenhappy? The character of Corisande, according to her mother, was not thenformed, nor easily scrutable. Was it formed now? and what were its bentand genius? And his own character? It could not be denied that his mindwas somewhat crude then, and his general conclusions on life and dutyhardly sufficiently matured and developed to offer a basis for domestichappiness on which one might confidently depend. 

And Theodora? Had he married then, he should never have known Theodora. In this bright saloon, amid the gayety of festive music, and surroundedby gliding forms of elegance and brilliancy, his heart was full ofanguish when he thought of Theodora. To have known such a woman and tohave lost her! Why should a man live after this? Yes; he would retire toMuriel, once hallowed by her presence, and he would raise to her memorysome monumental fane, beyond the dreams ever of Artemisia, and whichshould commemorate alike her wondrous life and wondrous mind. 

A beautiful hand was extended to him, and a fair face, animated withintelligence, welcomed him without a word. It was Lady St. Jerome. Lothair bowed lowly and touched her hand with his lip. 

"I was sorry to have missed you yesterday. We had gone down to Vauxe forthe day, but I heard of you from my lord with great pleasure. We are allof us so happy that you have entirely recovered your health. "

"I owe that to you, dearest lady, " said Lothair, "and to those underyour roof. I can never forget your goodness to me. Had it not been foryou, I should not have been here or anywhere else. "

"No, no; we did our best for the moment. But I quite agree with my lord, now, that you stayed too long at Rome under the circumstances. It was agood move--that going to Sicily, and so wise of you to travel in Egypt. Men should travel. "

"I have not been to Egypt, " said Lothair; "I have been to the Holy Land, and am a pilgrim. I wish you would tell Miss Arundel that I shall askher permission to present her with my crucifix, which contains the earthof the holy places. I should have told her this myself, if I had seenher yesterday. Is she here?"

"She is at Vauxe; she could not tear herself away from the roses. "

"But she might have brought them with her as companions, " said Lothair, "as you have, I apprehend, yourself. "

"I will give you this in Clare's name, " said Lady St. Jerome, as sheselected a beautiful flower and presented it to Lothair. "It is inreturn for your crucifix, which I am sure she will highly esteem. I onlywish it were a rose of Jericho. "

Lothair started. The name brought up strange and disturbingassociations: the procession in the Jesuits' church, the lighted tapers, the consecrated children, one of whom had been supernaturally presentedwith the flower in question. There was an awkward silence, untilLothair, almost without intending it, expressed a hope that the cardinalwas well. 

"Immersed in affairs, but I hope well, " replied Lady St. Jerome. "Youknow what has happened? But you will see him. He will speak to you ofthese matters himself. "

"But I should like also to hear from you. "

"Well, they are scarcely yet to be spoken of, " said Lady St. Jerome. "Iought not perhaps even to have alluded to the subject; but I know howdeeply devoted you are to religion. We are on the eve of the greatestevent of this century. When I wake in the morning, I always fancy thatI have heard of it only in dreams. And many--all this room--willnot believe in the possibility of its happening. They smile when thecontingency is alluded to, and if I were not present they would mock. But it will happen--I am assured it will happen, " exclaimed Lady St. Jerome, speaking with earnestness, though in a hushed voice. "And nohuman imagination can calculate or conceive what may be its effect onthe destiny of the human race. "

"You excite my utmost curiosity, " said Lothair. 

"Hush! there are listeners. But we shall soon meet again. You will comeand see us, and soon. Come down to Vauxe on Saturday; the cardinalwill be there. And the place is so lovely now. I always say Vauxe atWhitsuntide, or a little later, is a scene for Shakespeare. You know youalways liked Vauxe. "

"More than liked it, " said Lothair; "I have passed at Vauxe some of thehappiest hours of my life. "

CHAPTER 83

On the morning of the very Saturday on which Lothair was to pay hisvisit to Vauxe, riding in the park, he was joined by that polishedand venerable nobleman who presides over the destinies of art in GreatBritain. This distinguished person had taken rather a fancy to Lothair, and liked to talk to him about the Phoebus family; about the greatartist himself, and all his theories and styles; but especially aboutthe fascinating Madame Phoebus and the captivating Euphrosyne. 

"You have not found time, I dare say, " said the nobleman, "to visit theexhibition of the Royal Academy?"

"Well, I have only been here a week, " said Lothair, "and have had somany things to think of, and so many persons to see. "

"Naturally, " said the nobleman; "but I recommend you to go. I am nowabout to make my fifth visit there; but it is only to a single picture, and I envy its owner. "

"Indeed!" said Lothair. "Pray tell me its subject, that I may not failto see it. "

"It is a portrait, " said the nobleman, "only a portrait, some wouldsay, as if the finest pictures in the world were not only portraits. Themasterpieces of the English school are portraits, and some day when youhave leisure and inclination, and visit Italy, you will see portraitsby Titian and Raffaelle and others, which are the masterpieces of art. Well, the picture in question is a portrait by a young English painterat Rome and of an English lady. I doubt not the subject was equal tothe genius of the artist, but I do not think that the modern pencilhas produced any thing equal to it, both, in design and color andexpression. You should see it, by all means, and I have that opinion ofyour taste that I do not think you will be content by seeing it once. The real taste for fine art in this country is proved by the crowd thatalways surrounds that picture; and yet only a portrait of an Englishlady, a Miss Arundel. "

"A Miss Arundel?" said Lothair. 

"Yes, of a Roman Catholic family; I believe a relative of the St. Jeromes. They were at Rome last year, when this portrait was executed. "

"If you will permit me, " said Lothair, "I should like to accompany youto the Academy. I am going out of town this afternoon, but not far, andcould manage it. "

So they went together. It was the last exhibition of the Academy inTrafalgar Square. The portrait in question was in the large room, andhung on the eye line; so, as the throng about it was great, it was noteasy immediately to inspect it. But one or two R. A's who were glidingabout, and who looked upon the noble patron of art as a sort ofdivinity, insensibly controlled the crowd, and secured for their friendand his companion the opportunity which they desired. 

"It is the finest thing since the portrait of the Cenci, " said the noblepatron. 

The painter had represented Miss Arundel in her robe of a sister ofmercy, but with uncovered head. A wallet was at her side, and she held acrucifix. Her beautiful eyes, full of mystic devotions met those of thespectator with a fascinating power that kept many spell-bound. In thebackground of the picture was a masterly glimpse of the papal gardensand the wondrous dome. 

"That must be a great woman, " said the noble patron of art. 

Lothair nodded assent in silence. 

The crowd about the picture seemed breathless and awe-struck. There weremany women, and in some eyes there were tears. 

"I shall go home, " said one of the spectators; "I do not wish to see anything else. "

"That is religion, " murmured her companion. "They may say what theylike, but it would be well for us if we were all like her. "

It was a short half-hour by the railroad to Vauxe, and the stationwas close to the park gates. The sun was in its last hour when Lothairarrived, but he was captivated by the beauty of the scene, which he hadnever witnessed in its summer splendor. The rich foliage of the greatavenues, the immense oaks that stood alone, the deer glancing in thegolden light, and the quaint and stately edifice itself, so finished andso fair, with its freestone pinnacles and its gilded vanes glisteningand sparkling in the warm and lucid sky, contrasted with the chillyhours when the cardinal and himself had first strolled together in thatpark, and when they tried to flatter themselves that the morning mistclinging to the skeleton trees was perhaps the burst of spring. 

Lothair found himself again in his old rooms, and, as his valet unpackedhis toilet, he fell into one of his reveries. 

"What, " he thought to himself, "if life after all be only a dream? I canscarcely realize what is going on. It seems to me; I have passed througha year of visions. That I should be at Vauxe again! A roof I oncethought rife with my destiny. And perhaps it may prove so. And, were itnot for the memory of one event, I should be a ship without a rudder. "

There were several guests in the house, and, when Lothair entered thedrawing-room, he was glad to find that it was rather full. The cardinalwas by the side of Lady St. Jerome when Lothair entered, and immediatelyafter saluting his hostess it was his duty to address his late guardian. Lothair had looked forward to this meeting with apprehension. It seemedimpossible that it should not to a certain degree be annoying. Nothingof the kind. It was impossible to greet him more cordially, moreaffectionately than did Cardinal Grandison. 

"You have seen a great deal since we parted, " said the cardinal. "Nothing could be wiser than your travelling. You remember that atMuriel I recommended you to go to Egypt, but I thought it better thatyou should see Rome first. And it answered: you made the acquaintance ofits eminent men, men whose names will be soon in everybody's mouth, for before another year elapses Rome will be the cynosure of the world. Then, when the great questions come on which will decide the fate ofthe human race for centuries, you will feel the inestimable advantageof being master of the situation, and that you are familiar with everyplace and every individual. I think you were not very well at Rome; butnext time you must choose your season. However, I may congratulate youon your present looks. The air of the Levant seems to have agreed withyou. "

Dinner was announced almost at this moment, and Lothair, who had to takeout Lady Clanmorne, had no opportunity before dinner of addressingany one else except his hostess and the cardinal. The dinner-party waslarge, and it took some time to reconnoitre all the guests. Lothairobserved Miss Arundel, who was distant from him and on the same side ofthe table, but neither Monsignore Capel nor Father Coleman were present. 

Lady Clanmorne chatted agreeably. She was content to talk, and did notinsist on conversational reciprocity. She was a pure free-trader ingossip. This rather suited Lothair. It pleased Lady Clanmorne to-day todilate upon marriage and the married state, but especially on all heracquaintances, male and female, who were meditating the surrender oftheir liberty and about to secure the happiness of their lives. 

"I suppose the wedding of the season--the wedding of weddings--will bethe Duke of Brecon's, " she said. "But I do not hear of any day beingfixed. "

"Ah!" said Lothair, "I have been abroad and am very deficient in thesematters. But I was travelling with the lady's brother, and he has neveryet told me that his sister was going to be married. "

"There is no doubt about that, " said Lady Clanmorne. "The duchess saidto a friend of mine the other day, who congratulated her, that there wasno person in whom she should have more confidence as a son-in-law thanthe duke. "

"But most marriages turn out unhappy, " said Lothair, rather morosely. 

"Oh! my dear lord, what can you mean?"

"Well I think so, " he said doggedly. "Among the lower orders, if we mayjudge from the newspapers, they are always killing their wives, and inour class we get rid of them in a more polished way, or they get rid ofus. "

"You quite astonish me with such sentiments, " said Lady Clanmorne. "Whatwould Lady St. Jerome think if she heard you, who told me the other daythat she believed you to be a faultless character? And the duchess too, your friend's mamma, who thinks you so good, and that it is so fortunatefor her son to have such a companion?"

"As for Lady St. Jerome, she believes in every thing, " said Lothair;"and it is no compliment that she believes in me. As for my friend'smamma, her ideal character, according to you, is the Duke of Brecon, andI cannot pretend to compete with him. He may please the duchess, but Icannot say the Duke of Brecon is a sort of man I admire. "

"Well, he is no great favorite of mine, " said Lady Clanmorne; "I thinkhim overbearing and selfish, and I should not like at all to be hiswife. "

"What do you think of Lady Corisande?" said Lothair. 

"I admire her more than any girl in society, and I think she will bethrown away on the Duke of Brecon. She is clever and she has strongcharacter, and, I am told, is capable of great affections. Her mannersare good, finished, and natural; and she is beloved by her youngfriends, which I always think a test. "

"Do you think her handsome?"

"There can be no question about that: she is beautiful, and her beautyis of a high class. I admire her much more than all her sisters. She hasa grander mien. "

"Have you seen Miss Arundel's picture at the Academy?"

"Everybody has seen that: it has made a fury. "

"I heard an eminent judge say to-day, that it was the portrait of onewho must be a great woman. "

"Well, Miss Arundel is a remarkable person. "

"Do you admire her?"

"I have heard first-rate critics say that there was no person to becompared to Miss Arundel. And unquestionably it is a most strikingcountenance: that profound brow and those large deep eyes--and then herfigure is so fine; but, to tell you the truth, Miss Arundel is a personI never could make out. "

"I wonder she does not marry, " said Lothair. 

"She is very difficult, " said Lady Clanmorne. "Perhaps, too, she is ofyour opinion about marriage. "

"I have a good mind to ask her after dinner whether she is, " saidLothair. "I fancy she would not marry a Protestant?"

"I am no judge of such matters, " said Lady Clanmorne; "only I cannothelp thinking that there would be more chance of a happy marriage whenboth were of the same religion. "

"I wish we were all of the same religion. Do not you?"

"Well, that depends a little on what the religion might be. "

"Ah!" sighed Lothair, "what between religion and marriage and some otherthings, it appears to me one never has a tranquil moment. I wonder whatreligious school the Duke of Brecon belongs to? Very high and dry, Ishould think. "

The moment the gentlemen returned to the drawing-room, Lothair singledout Miss Arundel, and attached himself to her. 

"I have been to see your portrait today, " he said. She changed color. 

"I think it, " he continued, "the triumph of modern art, and I could noteasily fix on any production of the old masters that excels it. "

"It was painted at Rome, " she said, in a low voice. 

"So I understood. I regret that, when I was at Rome, I saw so little ofits art. But my health, you know, was wretched. Indeed, if it had notbeen for some friends--I might say for one friend--I should not havebeen here or in this world. I can never express to that person mygratitude, and it increases every day. All that I have dreamed of angelswas then realized. "

"You think too kindly of us. "

"Did Lady St. Jerome give you my message about the earth from the holyplaces which I had placed in a crucifix, and which I hope you willaccept from me, in remembrance of the past and your Christian kindnessto me? I should have left it at St. James's Square before this, but itrequired some little arrangement after its travels. "

"I shall prize it most dearly, both on account of its consecratedcharacter and for the donor's sake, whom I have ever wished to see thechampion of our Master. "

"You never had a wish, I am sure, " said Lothair, "that was not sublimeand pure. "

CHAPTER 84

They breakfasted at Vauxe, in the long gallery. It was always a merrymeal, and it was the fashion of the house that all should be present. The cardinal was seldom absent. He used to say: "I feel more on equalterms with my friends at breakfast, and rather look forward to mybanquet of dry toast. " Lord St. Jerome was quite proud of receivinghis letters and newspapers at Vauxe earlier by far than he did atSt. James's Square; and, as all were supplied with their lettersand journals, there was a great demand, for news, and a proportionalcirculation of it. Lady Clanmorne indulged this passion for gossipamusingly one morning, and read a letter from her correspondent, writtenwith the grace of a Sevigne, but which contained details of marriages, elopements, and a murder among their intimate acquaintance, which madeall the real intelligence quite insipid, and was credited for at leasthalf an hour. 

The gallery at Vauxe was of great length, and the breakfast-table waslaid at one end of it. The gallery was of panelled oak, with windows ofstained glass in the upper panes, and the ceiling, richly and heavilycarved, was entirely gilt, but with deadened gold. Though stately, thegeneral effect was not free from a certain character of gloom. Lit, as it was, by sconces, this was at night much softened; but, on a richsummer morn, the gravity and repose of this noble chamber were gratefulto the senses. 

The breakfast was over; the ladies had retired, stealing off with theMorning Post, the gentlemen gradually disappearing for the solace oftheir cigars. The cardinal, who was conversing with Lothair, continuedtheir conversation while walking up and down the gallery, far from thehearing of the servants, who were disembarrassing the breakfast-table, and preparing it for luncheon. A visit to a country-house, as Pintosays, is a series of meals mitigated by the new dresses of the ladies. 

"The more I reflect on your travels, " said the cardinal, "the more I amsatisfied with what has happened. I recognize the hand of Providence inyour preliminary visit to Rome and your subsequent one to Jerusalem. Inthe vast events which are impending, that man is in a strong positionwho has made a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre. Yo remember our walkin the park here, " continued the cardinal; "I felt then that we were onthe eve of some mighty change, but it was then indefinite, though to meinevitable. You were destined, I was persuaded, to witness it, even, asI hoped, to take no inconsiderable share in its fulfilment. But I hardlybelieved that I should have been spared for this transcendent day, and, when it is consummated, I will gratefully exclaim, 'Nunc me dimittis!'"

"You, allude, sir, to some important matter which Lady St. Jerome a fewdays ago intimated to me, but it was only an intimation, and purposelyvery vague. "

"There is no doubt, " said the cardinal, speaking with solemnity, "ofwhat I now communicate to you. The Holy Father, Pius IX. , has resolvedto summon an Oecumenical Council. "

"An Oecumenical Council!" said Lothair. 

"It is a weak phrase, " resumed the cardinal, "to say it will be thegreatest event of this century. I believe it will be the greatest eventsince the Episcopate of St. Peter; greater, in its consequences to thehuman race, than the fall of the Roman Empire, the pseudo-Reformation, or the Revolution of France. It is much more than three hundred yearssince the last Oecumenical Council, the Council of Trent, and the worldstill vibrates with its decisions. But the Council of Trent, comparedwith the impending Council of the Vatican, will be as the mediaevalworld of Europe compared with the vast and complete globe which man hassince discovered and mastered. "

"Indeed!" said Lothair. 

"Why, the very assembly of the Fathers of the Church will astound theFreemasons, and the secret societies, and the atheists. That alone willbe a demonstration of power on the part of the Holy Father which noconqueror from Sesostris to Napoleon has ever equalled. It was only thebishops of Europe that assembled at Trent, and, inspired by the HolySpirit, their decisions have governed man for more than three hundredyears. But now the bishops of the whole world will assemble round thechair of St. Peter, and prove by their presence the catholic characterof the Church. Asia will send its patriarchs and pontiffs, and Americaand Australia its prelates; and at home, my dear young friend, theCouncil of the Vatican will offer a striking contrast to the Councilof Trent; Great Britain will be powerfully represented. The bishops ofIreland might have been counted on, but it is England also that willsend her prelates now, and some of them will take no ordinary share intransactions that will give a new form and color to human existence. "

"Is it true, sir, that the object of the council is to declare theinfallibility of the pope?"

"In matters of faith and morals, " said the cardinal quickly. "There isno other infallibility. That is a secret with God. All that we can knowof the decision of the council on this awful head is, that its decision, inspired by the Holy Spirit, must infallibly be right. We must awaitthat decision, and, when made known, we must embrace it, not only withobedience, but with the interior assent of mind and will. But there areother results of the council on which we may speculate; and which, Ibelieve, it will certainly accomplish: first, it will show in a mannerthat cannot be mistaken that there is only one alternative for the humanintellect: Rationalism or Faith; and, secondly, it will exhibit tothe Christian powers the inevitable future they are now preparing forthemselves. "

"I am among the faithful, " said Lothair. 

"Then you must be a member of the Church Catholic, " said the cardinal. "The basis on which God has willed that His revelation should rest inthe world is the testimony of the Catholic Church, which, if consideredonly as a human and historical witness, affords the highest andmost certain evidence for the fact and the contents of the Christianreligion. If this be denied, there is no such thing as history. But theCatholic Church is not only a human and historical witness of its ownorigin, constitution, and authority, it is also a supernatural anddivine witness, which can neither fail nor err. When it oecumenicallyspeaks, it is not merely the voice of the fathers of the world; itdeclares what 'it hath seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to us. '"

There was a pause, and then Lothair remarked: "You said, air, thatthe council would show to the civil powers of the Christian world theinevitable future they are preparing for themselves?"

"Even so. Now mark this, my child. At the Council of Trent the Christianpowers were represented, and properly so. Their seats will be empty atthe Council of the Vatican. What does that mean? The separation betweenChurch and State, talked of for a long time, now demonstrated. And whatdoes separation between Church and State mean? That society is no longerconsecrated. The civil governments of the world no longer profess to beCatholic. The faithful indeed among their subjects will be representedat the council by their pastors, but the civil powers have separatedthemselves from the Church; either by royal edict, or legislativeenactment, or revolutionary changes, they have abolished the legalstatus of the Catholic Church within their territory. It is not theirchoice; they are urged on by an invisible power that is anti-Christian, and which is the true, natural, and implacable enemy of the one visibleand universal Church. The coming anarchy is called progress, because itadvances along the line of departure from the old Christian order of theworld. Christendom was the offspring of the Christian family, and thefoundation of the Christian family is the sacrament of matrimony, thesprit of all domestic and public morals. The anti-Christian societiesare opposed to the principle of home. When they have destroyed thehearth, the morality of society will perish. A settlement in thefoundations may be slow in sinking, but it brings all down at last. The next step in de-Christianizing the political life of nations isto establish national education without Christianity. This issystematically aimed at wherever the revolution has its way. The periodand policy of Julian are returning. Some think this bodes ill for theChurch; no, it is the State that will suffer. The secret societies arehurrying the civil governments of the world, and mostly the governmentswho disbelieve in their existence, to the brink of a precipice, overwhich monarchies, and law, and civil order, will ultimately fall andperish together. "

"Then all is hopeless, " said Lothair. 

"To human speculation, " said the cardinal; "but none can fathom themysteries of Divine interposition. This coming council may save society, and on that I would speak to you most earnestly. His holiness hasresolved to invite the schismatic priesthoods to attend it, and labor tobring about the unity of Christendom. He will send an ambassador to thepatriarch of the heresy of Photius, which is called the Greek Church. Hewill approach Lambeth. I have little hope of the latter, though there ismore than one of the Anglican bishops who revere the memory and exampleof Laud. But I by no means despair of your communion being present insome form at the council. There are true spirits at Oxford who sigh forunity. They will form, I hope, a considerable deputation; but, asnot yet being prelates, they cannot take their seats formally in thecouncil, I wish, in order to increase and assert their influence, thatthey should be accompanied by a band of powerful laymen, who shallrepresent the pious and pure mind of England--the coming guardians ofthe land in the dark hour that may be at hand. Considering your previousknowledge of Rome, your acquaintance with its eminent men and itslanguage, and considering too, as I well know, that the Holy Fatherlooks to you as one marked out by Providence to assert the truth, itwould please me--and, trust me, it would be wise in you--were you tovisit Rome on this sublime occasion, and perhaps put your mark on theworld's history. "

"It must yet be a long time before the council meets, " said Lothair, after a pause. 

"Not too long for preparation, " replied the cardinal. "From this hour, until its assembling, the pulse of humanity will throb. Even at thishour they are speaking of the same matters as ourselves alike onthe Euphrates and the St. Lawrence. The good Catesby is in Ireland, conferring with the bishops, and awakening them to the occasion. Thereis a party among them narrow-minded and local, the effects of theireducation. There ought not to be an Irish priest who was not broughtup at the Propaganda. You know that admirable institution. We had somehappy hours at Rome together--may we soon repeat them! You were veryunwell there; next time you will judge of Rome in health and vigor. "

CHAPTER 85

They say there is a skeleton in every house; it may be doubted. What ismore certain are the sorrow and perplexity which sometimes, without awarning and preparation, suddenly fall upon a family living in a worldof happiness and ease, and meriting their felicity by every gift offortune and disposition. 

Perhaps there never was a circle that enjoyed life more, and deservedto enjoy life more, than the Brentham family. Never was a family moreadmired and less envied. Nobody grudged them their happy gifts andaccidents, for their demeanor was so winning, and their manners socordial and sympathetic, that every one felt as if he shared theiramiable prosperity. And yet, at this moment, the duchess, whosecountenance was always as serene as her soul, was walking with disturbedvisage and agitated step up and down the private room of the duke;while his grace, seated, his head upon his arm, and with his eyes on theground, was apparently in anxious thought. 

Now, what had happened? It seems that these excellent parents hadbecome acquainted, almost at the same moment, with two astounding anddisturbing facts: their son wanted to marry Euphrosyne Cantacuzene, andtheir daughter would not marry the Duke of Brecon. 

"I was so perfectly unprepared for the communication, " said the duke, looking up, "that I have no doubt I did not express myself as I ought tohave done. But I do not think I said any thing wrong. I showed surprise, sorrow--no anger. I was careful not to say any thing to hurt hisfeelings--that is a great point in these matters--nothing disrespectfulof the young lady. I invited him to speak to me again about it when Ihad a little got over my surprise. "

"It is really a catastrophe, " exclaimed the duchess; "and only think, I came to you for sympathy in my sorrow, which, after all, thoughdistressing, is only a mortification!"

"I am very sorry about Brecon, " said the duke, "who is a man of honor, and would have suited us very well; but, my dear Augusta, I never tookexactly the same view of this affair as you did--I was never satisfiedthat Corisande returned his evident, I might say avowed, admiration ofher. "

"She spoke of him always with great respect, " said the duchess, "andthat is much in a girl of Corisande's disposition. I never heard herspeak of any of her admirers in the same tone--certainly not of LordCarisbrooke; I was quite prepared for her rejection of him. She neverencouraged him. "

"Well, " said the duke, "I grant you it is mortifying--infinitelydistressing; and Brecon is the last man I could have wished that itshould occur to; but, after all, our daughter must decide for herselfin such affairs. She is the person most interested in the event. I neverinfluenced her sisters in their choice, and she also must be free. Theother subject is more grave. "

"If we could only ascertain who she really is, " said the duchess. 

"According to Bertram, fully our equal; but I confess I am no judge ofLevantine nobility, " his grace added, with a mingled expression of prideand despair. 

"That dreadful travelling abroad!" exclaimed the duchess. "I always hada foreboding of something disastrous from it. Why should he have goneabroad, who has never been to Ireland, or seen half the counties of hisown country?"

"They all will go, " said the duke; "and I thought, with St. Aldegonde, he was safe from getting into any scrape of this kind. "

"I should like to speak to Granville about it, " said the duchess. "Whenhe is serious, his judgment is good. "

"I am to see St. Aldegonde before I speak to Bertram, " said the duke. "Ishould not be surprised if he were here immediately. "

One of the social mysteries is, "how things get about!" It is not theinterest of any of the persons immediately connected with the subjectthat society should be aware that the Lady Corisande had declined theproposal of the Duke of Brecon. Society had no right even to assume thatsuch a proposal was either expected or contemplated. The Duke of Breconadmired Lady Corisande, so did many others; and many others were admiredby the Duke of Brecon. The duchess even hoped that, as the season waswaning, it might break up, and people go into the country or abroad, andnothing be observed. And yet it "got about. " The way things get aboutis through the Hugo Bohuns. Nothing escapes their quick eyes andslow hearts. Their mission is to peer into society, like professionalastronomers ever on the watch to detect the slightest change in thephenomena. Never embarrassed by any passion of their own, and their onlysocial scheming being to maintain their transcendent position, all theirlife and energy are devoted to the discovery of what is taking placearound them; and experience, combined with natural tact, invests themwith almost a supernatural skill in the detection of social secrets. And so it happened that scarcely a week had passed before Hugo began tosniff the air, and then to make fine observations at balls, as to whomcertain persons danced with, or did not dance with; and then he beganthe curious process of what he called putting two and two together, andputting two and two together proved in about a fortnight that it was allup between Lady Corisande and the Duke of Brecon. 

Among others he imparted this information to Lothair, and it set Lothaira thinking; and he went to a ball that evening solely with the purposeof making social observations like Hugo Bohun. But Lady Corisande wasnot there, though the Duke of Brecon was, apparently in high spirits, and waltzing more than once with Lady Grizell Falkirk. Lothair was notvery fortunate in his attempts to see Bertram. He called more than onceat Crecy House too, but in vain. The fact is, Bertram was naturallyentirely engrossed with his own difficulties, and the duchess, harassedand mortified, could no longer be at home in the morning. 

Her grace, however, evinced the just appreciation of character for whichwomen are remarkable, in the confidence which she reposed in the goodsense of Lord St. Aldegonde at this crisis. St. Aldegonde was the onlyone of his sons-in-law whom the duke really considered and a littlefeared. When St. Aldegonde was serious, his influence over menwas powerful. And he was serious now. St. Aldegonde, who was notconventional, had made the acquaintance of Mr. Cantacuzene immediatelyon his return to England, and they had become friends. He had dined inthe Tyburnian palace of the descendant of the Greek emperors more thanonce, and had determined to make his second son, who was only four yearsof age, a Greek merchant. When the duke therefore consulted him on "thecatastrophe, " St. Aldegonde took high ground, spoke of Euphrosyne inthe way she deserved, as one equal to an elevated social position, anddeserving it. "But if you ask me my opinion, sir, " he continued, "I donot think, except for Bertram's sake, that you have any cause to fretyourself. The family wish her to marry her cousin, the eldest son of thePrince of Samos. It is an alliance of the highest, and suits them muchbetter than any connection with us. Besides, Cantacuzene will givehis children large fortunes, and they like the money to remain inthe family. A hundred or a hundred and fifty thousand pounds--perhapsmore--goes a great way on the coasts of Asia Minor. You might buy uphalf the Archipelago. The Cantacuzenes are coming to dine with us nextweek. Bertha is delighted with them. Mr. Cantacuzene is so kind as tosay he will take Clovis into his counting-house. I wish I could induceyour grace to come and meet him: then you could judge for yourself. Youwould not be in the least shocked were Bertram to marry the daughterof some of our great merchants or bankers. This is a great merchant andbanker, and the descendant of princes, and his daughter one of the mostbeautiful and gifted of women and worthy to be a princess. "

"There is a good deal in what St. Aldegonde says, " said the dukeafterward to his wife. "The affair takes rather a different aspect. Itappears they are really people of high consideration, and great wealthtoo. Nobody could describe them as adventurers. "

"We might gain a little time, " said the duchess. "I dislike peremptorydecisions. It is a pity we have not an opportunity of seeing the younglady. "

"Granville says she is the most beautiful woman he ever met, except hersister. "

"That is the artist's wife?" said the duchess. 

"Yes, " said the duke, "I believe a most distinguished man, but it ratheradds to the imbroglio. Perhaps things may turn out better than theyfirst promised. The fact is, I am more amazed than annoyed. Granvilleknows the father, it seems, intimately. He knows so many odd people. Hewants me to meet him at dinner. What do you think about it? It is a goodthing sometimes to judge for one's self. They say this Prince of Samosshe is half betrothed to is attach to the Turkish embassy at Vienna, andis to visit England. "

"My nervous system is quite shaken, " said the duchess. "I wish we couldall go to Brentham. I mentioned it to Corisande this morning, and I wassurprised to find that she wished to remain in town. "

"Well, we will decide nothing, my dear, in a hurry. St. Aldegonde saysthat, if we decide in that sense, he will undertake to break off thewhole affair. We may rely on that. We need consider the business onlywith reference to Bertram's happiness and feelings. That is an importantissue, no doubt, but it is a limited one. The business is not of sodisagreeable a nature as it seemed. It is not an affair of a rashengagement, in a discreditable quarter, from which he cannot extricatehimself. There is no doubt they are thoroughly reputable people, andwill sanction nothing which is not decorous and honorable. St. Aldegondehas been a comfort to me in this matter; and you will find out a greatdeal when you speak to him about it. Things might be worse. I wish I wasas easy about the Duke of Brecon. I met him this morning and rode withhim--to show there was no change in my feelings. "

CHAPTER 86

The world goes on with its aching hearts and its smiling faces, andvery often, when a year has revolved, the world finds out there wasno sufficient cause for the sorrows or the smiles. There is too muchunnecessary anxiety in the world, which is apt too hastily to calculatethe consequences of any unforeseen event, quite forgetting that, acuteas it is in observation, the world, where the future is concerned, isgenerally wrong. The duchess would have liked to have buried herself inthe shades of Brentham, but Lady Corisande, who deported herself asif there were no care at Crecy House except that occasioned by herbrother's rash engagement, was of opinion that "mamma would only broodover this vexation in the country, " and that it would be much betternot to anticipate the close of the waning season. So the duchess and herlovely daughter were seen everywhere where they ought to be seen, andappeared the pictures of serenity and satisfaction. 

As for Bertram's affair itself, under the manipulation of St. Aldegonde, it began to assume a less anxious and more practicable aspect. The dukewas desirous to secure his son's happiness, but wished nothing to bedone rashly. If, for example, in a year's time or so, Bertram continuedin the same mind, his father would never be an obstacle to hiswell-considered wishes. In the mean time, an opportunity might offer ofmaking the acquaintance of the young lady and her friends. 

And, in the mean time, the world went on dancing, and betting, andbanqueting, and making speeches, and breaking hearts and heads, tillthe time arrived when social stock is taken, the results of the campaignestimated and ascertained, and the question asked, "Where do you thinkof going this year?"

"We shall certainly winter at Rome, " said Lady St. Jerome to LadyClanmorne, who was paying a morning visit. "I wish you could induce LordClanmorne to join us. "

"I wish so, too, " said the lady, "but that is impossible. He never willgive up his hunting. "

"I am sure there are more foxes in the Campagna than at Vauxe, " saidLady St. Jerome. 

"I suppose you have heard of what they call the double event?" said LadyClanmorne. 

"No. "

"Well, it is quite true; Mr. Bohun told me last night, and he alwaysknows every thing. "

"Every thing!" said Lady St. Jerome; "but what is it that he knows now?"

"Both the Ladies Falkirk are to be married! And on the same day. "

"But to whom?"

"Whom should you think?"

"I will not even guess, " said Lady St. Jerome. 

"Clare, " she said to Miss Arundel, who was engaged apart, "you alwaysfind out conundrums. Lady Clanmorne has got some news for us. Lady FloraFalkirk and her sister are going to be married, and on the same day. Andto whom, think you?"

"Well, I should think that somebody has made Lord Carisbrooke a happyman, " said Miss Arundel. 

"Very good, " said Lady Clanmorne. "I think Lady Flora will make anexcellent Lady Carisbrooke. He is not quite as tall as she is, but he isa man of inches. And now for Lady Grizell. "

"My powers of divination are quite exhausted, " said Miss Arundel. 

"Well, I will not keep you in suspense, " said Lady Clanmorne. "LadyGrizell is to be Duchess of Brecon. "

"Duchess of Brecon!" exclaimed both Miss Arundel and Lady St. Jerome. 

"I always admired the ladies, " said Miss Arundel. "We met them ata country-house last year, and I thought them pleasing in everyway--artless and yet piquant; but I did not anticipate their fate beingso soon sealed. "

"And so brilliantly, " added Lady St. Jerome. 

"You met them at Muriel Towers, " said Lady Clanmorne. "I heard of youthere: a most distinguished party. There was an American lady there, wasthere not? a charming person, who sang, and acted, and did all sorts ofthings. "

"Yes; there was. I believe, however, she was an Italian, married to anAmerican. "

"Have you seen much of your host at Muriel Towers?" said Lady Clanmorne. 

"We see him frequently, " said Lady St. Jerome. 

"Ah! yes, I remember; I met him at Vauxe the other day. He is a greatadmirer of yours, " Lady Clanmorne added, addressing Miss Arundel. 

"Oh! we are friends, and have long been so, " said Miss Arundel, and sheleft the room. 

"Clare does not recognize admirers, " said Lady St. Jerome, gravely. 

"I hope the ecclesiastical fancy is not reviving, " said Lady Clanmorne. "I was half in hopes that the lord of Muriel Towers might have deprivedthe Church of its bride. "

"That could never be, " said Lady St. Jerome; "though, if it could havebeen, a source of happiness to Lord St. Jerome and myself would not havebeen wanting. We greatly regard our kinsman, but, between ourselves, "added Lady St. Jerome in a low voice, "it was supposed that he wasattached to the American lady of whom you were speaking. "

"And where is she now?"

"I have heard nothing of late. Lothair was in Italy at the same time asourselves, and was ill there, under our roof; so we saw a great deal ofhim. Afterward he travelled for his health, and has now just returnedfrom the East. "

A visitor was announced, and Lady Clanmorne retired. 

Nothing happens as you expect. On his voyage home Lothair had indulgedin dreams of renewing his intimacy at Crecy House, around whose hearthall his sympathies were prepared to cluster. The first shock tothis romance was the news he received of the impending union of LadyCorisande with the Duke of Brecon. And, what with this unexpectedobstacle to intimacy, and the domestic embarrassments occasioned byBertram's declaration, he had become a stranger to a roof which had sofilled his thoughts. It seemed to him that he could not enter the houseeither as the admirer of the daughter or as the friend of her brother. She was probably engaged to another, and, as Bertram's friend andfellow-traveller, he fancied he was looked upon by the family as one whohad in some degree contributed to their mortification. Much of this wasimaginary, but Lothair was very sensitive, and the result was that heceased to call at Crecy House, and for some time, kept aloof from theduchess and her daughter, when he met them in general society. He wasglad to hear from Bertram and St. Aldegonde that the position of theformer was beginning to soften at home, and that the sharpness of hisannouncement was passing away. And, when he had clearly ascertained thatthe contemplated union of Lady Corisande with the duke was certainlynot to take place, Lothair began to reconnoitre, and try to resume hisoriginal position. But his reception was not encouraging, at least notsufficiently cordial for one who by nature was retiring and reserved. Lady Corisande was always kind, and after some time he danced with heragain. But there were no invitations to luncheon from the duchess; theynever asked him to dinner. His approaches were received with courtesy, but he was not courted. 

The announcement of the marriage of the Duke of Brecon did not, apparently, in any degree, distress Lady Corisande. On the contrary, sheexpressed much satisfaction at her two young friends settling in lifewith such success and splendor. The ambition both of Lady Flora andLady Grizell was that Corisande should be a bridesmaid. This would be arather awkward post to occupy under the circumstances, so she embracedboth, and said that she loved them both so equally, that she would notgive a preference to either, and therefore, though she certainlywould attend their wedding, she would refrain from taking part in theceremony. 

The duchess went with Lady Corisande one morning to Mr. Ruby's to choosea present from her daughter to each of the young ladies. Mr. Ruby ina back shop poured forth his treasures of bracelets, and rings, andlockets. The presents must be similar in value and in beauty, and yetthere must be some difference between them; so it was a rather long andtroublesome investigation, Mr. Ruby, as usual, varying its monotony, ormitigating its wearisomeness, by occasionally, or suddenly, exhibitingsome splendid or startling production of his art. The parure of anempress, the bracelets of grand-duchesses, a wonderful fan that was toflutter in the hands of majesty, had all in due course appeared, as wellas the black pearls and yellow diamonds that figure and flash on suchoccasions, before eyes so favored and so fair. 

At last--for, like a prudent general, Mr. Ruby had always a greatreserve--opening a case, he said, "There!" and displayed a crucifix ofthe most exquisite workmanship and the most precious materials. 

"I have no hesitation in saying the rarest jewel which this century hasproduced. See! the figure by Monti; a masterpiece. Every emerald inthe cross a picked stone. These corners, your grace is aware, " saidMr. Ruby, condescendingly, "contain the earth of the holy places atJerusalem. It has been shown to no one but your grace. "

"It is indeed most rare and beautiful, " said the duchess, "and mostinteresting, too, from containing the earth of the holy places. Acommission, of course?"

"From one of our most eminent patrons, " and then he mentioned Lothair'sname. 

Lady Corisande looked agitated. 

"Not for himself, " said Mr. Ruby. 

Lady Corisande seemed relieved. 

"It is a present to a young lady--Miss Arundel. "

Lady Corisande changed color, and, turning away, walked toward a caseof works of art, which was in the centre of the shop, and appeared to beengrossed in their examination. 

CHAPTER 87

A day or two after this adventure of the crucifix, Lothair met Bertram, who said to him, "By-the-by, if you want to see my people before theyleave town, you must call at once. "

"You do not mean that, " replied Lothair, much surprised. "Why, theduchess told me, only three or four days ago, that they should not leavetown until the end of the first week of August. They are going to theweddings. "

"I do not know what my mother said to you, my dear fellow, but they goto Brentham the day after to-morrow, and will not return. The duchesshas been for a long time wishing this, but Corisande would stay. Shethought they would only bother themselves about my affairs, and therewas more distraction for them in town. But now they are going, and it isfor Corisande they go. She is not well, and they have suddenly resolvedto depart. "

"Well, I am very sorry to hear it, " said Lothair; "I shall call at CrecyHouse. Do you think they will see me?"

"Certain. "

"And what are your plans?"

"I have none, " said Bertram. "I suppose I must not leave my father aloneat this moment. He has behaved well; very kindly, indeed. I have nothingto complain of. But still all is vague, and I feel somehow or other Iought to be about him. "

"Have you heard from our dear friends abroad?"

"Yes, " said Bertram, with a sigh, "Euphrosyne writes to me; but Ibelieve St. Aldegonde knows more about their views and plans than I do. He and Mr. Phoebus correspond much. I wish to Heaven they were here, orrather that we were with them!" he added, with another sigh. "How happywe all were, at Jerusalem! How I hate London! And Brentham worse. Ishall have to go to a lot of agricultural dinners and all sorts ofthings. The duke expects it, and I am bound now to do every thing toplease him. What do you think of doing?"

"I neither know nor care, " said Lothair, in a tone of great despondency. 

"You are a little hipped. "

"Not a little. I suppose it is the excitement of the last two years thathas spoiled me for ordinary life. But I find the whole thing utterlyintolerable, and regret now that I did not rejoin the staff of thegeneral. I shall never have such a chance again. It was a mistake; butone is born to blunder. "

Lothair called at Crecy House. The hall-porter was not sure whether theduchess was at home, and the groom of the chambers went to see. Lothairhad never experienced this form. When the groom of the chambers camedown again, he gave her grace's compliments; but she had a headache, andwas obliged to lie down, and was sorry she could not see Lothair, whowent away livid. 

Crecy House was only yards from St. James's Square, and Lothair repairedto an accustomed haunt. He was not in a humor for society, and yet herequired sympathy. There were some painful associations with theSt. Jerome family, and yet they had many charms. And the painfulassociations had been greatly removed by their easy and cordialreception of him, and the charms had been renewed and increased bysubsequent intercourse. After all, they were the only people who hadalways been kind to him. And, if they had erred in a great particular, they had been animated by pure, and even sacred, motives. And hadthey erred? Were not his present feelings of something approaching todesolation a fresh proof that the spirit of man can alone be sustainedby higher relations than merely human ones? So he knocked at the door, and Lady St. Jerome was at home. She had not a headache; there were nomysterious whisperings between hall-porters and grooms of the chamber, to ascertain whether he was one of the initiated. Whether it were Londonor Vauxe, the eyes of the household proved that he was ever a welcomeand cherished guest. 

Lady St. Jerome was alone, and rose from her writing-table to receivehim. And then--for she was a lady who never lost a moment--she resumedsome work, did not interfere with their conversation. Her talkingresources were so happy and inexhaustible, that it signified little thather visitor, who was bound in that character to have something to say, was silent and moody. 

"My lord, " she continued, "has taken the Palazzo Agostini for a term. Ithink we should always pass our winters at Rome under any circumstances, but--the cardinal has spoken to you about the great event--if that comesoff, of which, between ourselves, whatever the world may say, I believethere is no sort of doubt, we should not think of being absent from Romefor a day during the council. "

"Why! it may last years, " said Lothair. "There is no reason why itshould not last the Council of Trent. It has in reality much more todo. "

"We do things quicker now, " said Lady St. Jerome. 

"That depends on what there is to do. To revive faith is more difficultthan to create it. "

"There will be no difficulty when the Church has assembled, " saidLady St. Jerome. "This sight of the universal Fathers coming from theuttermost ends of the earth to bear witness to the truth will at oncesweep away all the vain words and vainer thoughts of this unhappycentury. It will be what they call a great fact, dear Lothair; and whenthe Holy Spirit descends upon their decrees, my firm belief is the wholeworld will rise as it were from a trance, and kneel before the divinetomb of St. Peter. "

"Well, we shall see, " said Lothair. 

"The cardinal wishes you very much to attend the council. He wishes youto attend it as an Anglican, representing with a few others our laity. He says it would have the very best effect for religion. "

"He spoke to me. "

"And you agreed to go?"

"I have not refused him. If I thought I could do any good I am not sureI would not go, " said Lothair; "but, from what I have seen of the Romancourt, there is little hope of reconciling our differences. Rome isstubborn. Now, look at the difficulty they make about the marriage of aProtestant and one of their own communion. It to cruel, and I think ontheir part unwise. "

"The sacrament of marriage is of ineffable holiness, " said Lady St. Jerome. 

"I do not wish to deny that, " said Lothair, "but I see no reason why Ishould not marry a Roman Catholic if I liked, without the Roman Churchinterfering and entirely regulating my house and home. "

"I wish you would speak to Father Coleman about this, " said Lady St. Jerome. 

"I have had much talk with Father Coleman about many things in my time, "said Lothair, "but not about this. By-the-by, have you any news of themonsignore?"

"He is in Ireland, arranging about the Oecumenical Council. They donot understand these matters there as well as we do in England, andhis holiness, by the cardinal's advice, has sent the monsignore to putthings right. "

"All the Father Colemans in the world cannot alter the state of affairsabout mixed marriages, " said Lothair; "they can explain, but they cannotalter. I want change in this matter, and Rome never changes. "

"It is impossible for the Church to change, " said Lady St. Jerome, "because it is Truth. "

"Is Miss Arundel at home?" said Lothair. 

"I believe so, " said Lady St. Jerome. 

"I never see her now, " he said, discontentedly. "She never goes toballs, and she never rides. Except occasionally under this roof, she isinvisible. "

'"Clare does not go any longer into society, " said Lady St. Jerome. 

"Why?"

"Well, it is a secret, " said Lady St. Jerome, with some disturbance ofcountenance and speaking in a lower tone; "at least at present; and yetI can hardly on such a subject wish that there should be a secret fromyou--Clare is about to take the veil. "

"Then I have not a friend left in the world, " said Lothair, in adespairing tone. 

Lady St. Jerome looked at him with an anxious glance. "Yes, " shecontinued; "I do not wish to conceal it from you, that for a time wecould have wished it otherwise--it has been, it is a trying event formy lord and myself--but the predisposition, which was always strong, has ended in a determination so absolute, that we recognize the Divinepurpose in her decision, and we bow to it. "

"I do not bow to it, " said Lothair; "I think it barbarous and unwise. "

"Hush, hush! dear friend. "

"And does the cardinal approve of this step?"

"Entirely. "

"Then my confidence in him is entirely destroyed, " said Lothair. 

CHAPTER 88

It was August, and town was thinning fast. Parliament still lingered, but only for technical purposes; the political struggle of the sessionhaving terminated at the end of July. One social event was yet to beconsummated--the marriages of Lothair's cousins. They were to be marriedon the same day, at the same time, and in the same place. WestminsterAbbey was to be the scene, and, as it was understood that the servicewas to be choral, great expectations of ecclesiastical splendor andeffect were much anticipated by the fair sex. They were, however, doomed to disappointment, for, although the day was fine, the attendancenumerous and brilliant beyond precedent, Lord Culloden would have"no popery. " Lord Carisbrooke, who was a ritualist, murmured, and wasencouraged in his resistance by Lady Clanmorne and a party, but, as theDuke of Brecon was high and dry, there was a want of united action, andLord Culloden had his way. 

After the ceremony, the world repaired to the mansion of Lord Cullodenin Belgrave Square, to inspect the presents, and to partake of a dinnercalled a breakfast. Cousin Lothair wandered about the rooms, and hadthe satisfaction of seeing a bracelet with a rare and splendid sapphirewhich he had given to Lady Flora, and a circlet of diamond stars whichhe had placed on the brow of the Duchess of Brecon. The St. Aldegondeswere the only members of the Brentham family who were present. St. Aldegonde had a taste for marriages and public executions, and LadySt. Aldegonde wandered about with Lothair, and pointed out to himCorisande's present to his cousins. 

"I never was more disappointed than by your family leaving town so earlythis year, " he said. 

"We were quite surprised. "

"I am sorry to bear your sister is indisposed. "

"Corisande! she is perfectly well. "

"I hope the duchess's headache is better, " said Lothair. "She could notreceive me when I called to say farewell, because she had a headache. "

"I never knew mamma to have a headache, " said Lady St. Aldegonde. 

"I suppose you will be going to Brentham?"

"Next week. "'

"And Bertram too?"

"I fancy that we shall be all there. "

"I suppose we may consider now that the season is really over!"

"Yes; they stayed for this. I should not be surprised if every one inthese rooms had disappeared by to-morrow. "

"Except myself, " said Lothair. 

"Do you think of going abroad again?"

"One might as well go, " said Lothair, "as remain. "

"I wish Granville would take me to Paris. It seems so odd not to haveseen Paris. All I want is to see the new streets and dine at a caf. "

"Well, you have an object; that is something, " said Lothair. "I havenone. "

"Men have always objects, " said Lady St. Aldegonde. "They make businesswhen they have none, or it makes itself. They move about, and it comes. "

"I have moved about a great deal, " said Lothair, "and nothing has cometo me but disappointment. I think I shall take to croquet, like thatcurious gentleman I remember at Brentham. "

"Ah! you remember every thing. "

"It is not easy to forget any thing at Brentham, " said Lothair. "It isjust two years ago. That was a happy time. "

"I doubt whether our reassembling will be quite as happy this year, "said Lady St. Aldegonde, in a serious tone. "This engagement of Bertramis an anxious business; I never saw papa before really fret. And thereare other things which are not without vexation--at least to mamma. "

"I do not think I am a great favorite of your mamma, " said Lothair. "Sheonce used to be very kind to me, but she is so no longer. "

"I am sure you mistake her, " said Lady St. Aldegonde, but not in a tonewhich indicated any confidence in her remark. "Mamma is anxious about mybrother, and all that. "

"I believe the duchess thinks that I am in some way or other connectedwith this embarrassment; but I really had nothing to do with it, thoughI could not refuse my testimony to the charms of the young lady, and mybelief she would make Bertram a happy man. "

"As for that, you know, Granville saw a great deal more of her, at leastat Jerusalem, than you did, and he has said to mamma a great deal morethan you have done. "

"Yes; but she thinks that, had it not been for me, Bertram would neverhave known the Phoebus family. She could not conceal that from me, andit has poisoned her mind. "

"Oh! do not use such words. "

"Yes; but they are true. And your sister is prejudiced against me also. "

"That I am sure she is not, " said Lady St. Aldegonde, quickly. "Corisande was always your friend. "

"Well, they refused to see me, when we may never meet again for months, perhaps for years, " said Lothair, "perhaps never. "

"What shocking things you are saying, my dear lord, to-day! Here, LordCulloden wants you to return thanks for the bridesmaids. You must put ona merry face. "

The dreary day at last arrived, and very quickly, when Lothair was theonly person left in town. When there is nobody you know in London, themillion that go about are only voiceless phantoms. Solitude in a city isa trance. The motion of the silent beings with whom you have no speechor sympathy, only makes the dreamlike existence more intense. It is notso in the country; the voices of Nature are abundant, and, from the humof insects to the fall of the avalanche, something is always talking toyou. 

Lothair shrank from the streets. He could not endure the dreary glare ofSt. James's and the desert sheen of Pall Mall. He could mount his horsein the park, and soon lose himself in suburban roads that he once loved. Yes; it was irresistible; and he made a visit to Belmont. The housewas dismantled, and the gardens shorn of their lustre, but still itwas there; very fair in the sunshine, and sanctified in his heart. Hevisited every room that he had frequented, and lingered in her boudoir. He did not forget the now empty pavilion, and he plucked some flowersthat she once loved, and pressed them to his lips, and placed them nearhis heart. He felt now what it was that made him unhappy: it was thewant of sympathy. 

He walked through the park to the residence of Mr. Phoebus, where he haddirected his groom to meet him. His heart beat as he wandered along, andhis eye was dim with tears. What characters and what scenes had he notbecome acquainted with since his first visit to Belmont! And, even now, when they had departed, or were absent, what influence were they notexercising over his life, and the life of those most intimate with him!Had it not been for his pledge to Theodora, it was far from improbablethat he would now have been a member of the Roman Catholic Church, andall his hopes at Brentham, and his intimacy with the family on which hehad most reckoned in life for permanent friendship and support, seemed to be marred and blighted by the witching eyes of that mirthfulEuphrosyne, whose mocking words on the moonlit terrace at Belmont firstattracted his notice to her. And then, by association of ideas, hethought of the general, and what his old commander had said at theirlast interview, reminding him of his fine castle, and expressing hisconviction that the lord of such a domain must have much to do. 

"I will try to do it, " said Lothair; "and will go down to Murieltomorrow. "

CHAPTER 89

Lothair, who was very sensible to the charms of Nature, found at firstrelief in the beauties of Muriel. The season was propitious to thescene. August is a rich and leafy month, and the glades and avenues andstately trees of his parks and pleasaunces seemed, at the same time, tosoothe and gladden his perturbed spirit. Muriel was still new to him, and there was much to examine and explore for the first time. He found aconsolation also in the frequent remembrance that these scenes had beenknown to those whom he loved. Often in the chamber, and often in thebower, their forms arose; sometimes their voices lingered in his ear; afrolic laugh, or whispered words of kindness and enjoyment. Such aplace as Muriel should always be so peopled. But that is impossible. One cannot always have the most agreeable people in the world assembledunder one's roof. And yet the alternative should not be the lonelinesshe now experienced. The analytical Lothair resolved that there was nohappiness without sympathy. 

The most trying time were the evenings. A man likes to be alone in themorning. He writes his letters and reads the newspapers, attempts toexamine his steward's accounts, and if he wants society can gossip withhis stud-groom. But a solitary evening in the country is gloomy, howeverbrilliant the accessories. As Mr. Phoebus was not present, Lothairviolated the prime principles of a first-class Aryan education, andventured to read a little. It is difficult to decide which is the mostvaluable companion to a country eremite at his nightly studies, thevolume that keeps him awake or the one that sets him a-slumbering. 

At the end of a week Lothair had some good sport on his moors--and thisreminded him of the excellent Campian, who had received and answered hisletter. The colonel, however, held out but a faint prospect of returningat present to Europe, though, whenever he did, he promised to be theguest of Lothair. Lothair asked some of his neighbors to dinner, and hemade two large parties to slaughter his grouse. They were grateful andhe was popular, but "we have not an idea in common, " thought Lothair, as, wearied and uninterested, he bade his last guest his lastgood-night. Then Lothair paid a visit to the lord-lieutenant, and stayedtwo nights at Agramont Castle. Here he met many county notables, and"great was the company of the preachers;" but the talk was localor ecclesiastical, and, after the high-spiced condiments of theconversation to which he was accustomed, the present discourse wasinsipid even to nausea. He sought some relief in the society of LadyIda Alice, but she blushed when she spoke to him, and tittered when hereplied to her; and at last he found refuge in pretty Mrs. Ardenne, whoconcluded by asking him for his photograph. 

On the morrow of his return to Muriel, the servant bringing in hisletters, he seized one in the handwriting of Bertram, and, discardingthe rest, devoured the communication of his friend, which was eventful. 

It seems that the Phoebus family had returned to England, and were atBrentham, and had been there a week. The family were delighted withthem, and Euphrosyne was an especial favorite. But this was not all. Itseems that Mr. Cantacuzene had been down to Brentham, and stayed, whichhe never did anywhere, a couple of days. And the duke was particularlycharmed with Mr. Cantacuzene. This gentleman, who was only in theearlier term of middle age, and looked younger than his age, wasdistinguished in appearance, highly polished, and singularly acute. Heappeared to be the master of great wealth, for he offered to make uponEuphrosyne any settlement which the duke desired. He had no son, anddid not wish his sons-in-law to be sighing for his death. He wished hisdaughters, therefore, to enjoy the bulk of their inheritances in hislifetime. He told the duke that he had placed one hundred thousandpounds in the names of trustees on the marriage of Madame Phoebus, toaccumulate, "and when the genius and vanity of her husband are bothexhausted, though I believe they are inexhaustible, " remarked Mr. Cantacuzene, "it will be a nest's-egg for them to fall back upon, and atleast save them from penury. " The duke had no doubt that Mr. Cantacuzenewas of imperial lineage. But the latter portion of the letter was themost deeply interesting to Lothair. Bertram wrote that his mother hadjust observed that she thought the Phoebus family would like to meetLothair, and begged Bertram to invite him to Brentham. The letter endedby an urgent request, that, if disengaged, he should arrive immediately. 

Mr. Phoebus highly approved of Brentham. All was art, and art of a highcharacter. He knew no residence with an aspect so thoroughly Aryan. Though it was really a family party, the house was quite full; at least, as Bertram said to Lothair on his arrival, "there is only room foryou--and you are in your old quarters. "

"That is exactly what I wished, " said Lothair. 

He had to escort the duchess to dinner. Her manner was of old days. "Ithought you would like to meet your friends, " she said. 

"It gives me much pleasure, but much more to find myself at Brentham. "

"There seems every prospect of Bertram being happy. We are enchantedwith the young lady. You know her, I believe, well? The duke is highlypleased with her, father, Mr. Cantacuzene--he says one of the mostsensible men he ever met, and a thorough gentleman, which he maywell be, for I believe there is no doubt he is of the highestdescent--emperors they say, princes even now. I wish you could havemet him, but he would only stay eight-and-forty hours. I understand hisaffairs are vast. "

"I have always heard a considerable person; quite the head of the Greekcommunity in this country--indeed, in Europe generally. "

"I see by the morning papers that Miss Arundel has taken the veil. "

"I missed my papers to-day, " said Lothair, a little agitated, "but Ihave long been aware of her intention of doing so. "

"Lady St. Jerome will miss her very much. She was quite the soul of thehouse. "

"It must be a great and painful sacrifice, " said Lothair; "but, Ibelieve, long meditated. I remember when I was at Vauxe, nearly twoyears ago, that I was told this was to be her fate. She was quitedetermined on it. "

"I saw the beautiful crucifix you gave her, at Mr. Ruby's. "

"It was an homage to her for her great goodness to me when I was ill atRome--and it was difficult to find any thing that would please or suither. I fixed on the crucifix, because it permitted me to transfer to itthe earth of the holy places, which were included in the crucifix, that was given to me by the monks of the Holy Sepulchre, when I made mypilgrimage to Jerusalem. "

In the evening St. Aldegonde insisted on their dancing, and heengaged himself to Madame Phoebus. Bertram and Euphrosyne seemed neverseparated; Lothair was successful in inducing Lady Corisande to be hispartner. 

"Do you remember your first ball at Crecy House?" asked Lothair. "Youare not nervous now?"

"I would hardly say that, " said Lady Corisande, "though I try not toshow it. "

"It was the first ball for both of us, " said Lothair. "I have not dancedso much in the interval as you have. Do you know, I was thinking, justnow, I have danced oftener with you than with any one else?"

"Are not you glad about Bertram's affair ending so well?"

"Very; he will be a happy man. Every body is happy, I think, exceptmyself. "

In the course of the evening, Lady St. Aldegonde, on the arm of LordMontairy, stopped for a moment as she passed Lothair, and said: "Do youremember our conversation at Lord Culloden's breakfast? Who was rightabout mamma?"

They passed their long summer days in rambling and riding, and inwondrous new games which they played in the hall. The striking feature, however, were the matches at battledore and shuttlecock between MadamePhoebus and Lord St. Aldegonde, in which the skill and energy displayedwere supernatural, and led to betting. The evenings were always gay;sometimes they danced; more or less they always had some delicioussinging. And Mr. Phoebus arranged some tableaux most successfully. 

All this time, Lothair hung much about Lady Corisande; he was by herside in the riding-parties, always very near her when they walked, andsometimes he managed unconsciously to detach her from the main party, and they almost walked alone. If he could not sit by her at dinner, he joined her immediately afterward, and whether it were a dance, atableau, or a new game, somehow or other he seemed always to be hercompanion. 

It was about a week after the arrival of Lothair, and they were atbreakfast at Brentham, in that bright room full of little round tableswhich Lothair always admired, looking, as it did, upon a garden of manycolors. 

"How I hate modern gardens!" said St. Aldegonde. "What a horrid thingthis is! One might as well have a mosaic pavement there. Give mecabbage-roses, sweet-peas, and wall-flowers. That is my idea of agarden. Corisande's garden is the only sensible thing of the sort. "

"One likes a mosaic pavement to look like a garden, " said Euphrosyne, "but not a garden like a mosaic pavement. "

"The worst of these mosaic beds, " said Madame Phoebus, "is, you cannever get a nosegay, and if it were not for the kitchen-garden, weshould be destitute of that gayest and sweetest of creations. "

"Corisande's garden is, since your first visit to Brentham, " said theduchess to Lothair. "No flowers are admitted that have not perfume. Itis very old-fashioned. You must get her to show it you. "

It was agreed that after breakfast they should go and see Corisande'sgarden. And a party did go--all the Phoebus family, and Lord and LadySt. Aldegonde, and Lady Corisande, and Bertram, and Lothair. 

In the pleasure-grounds of Brentham were the remains of an ancientgarden of the ancient house that had long ago been pulled down. When themodern pleasure-grounds were planned and created, notwithstanding theprotests of the artists in landscape, the father of the present dukewould not allow this ancient garden to be entirely destroyed, and youcame upon its quaint appearance in the dissimilar world in which it wasplaced, as you might in some festival of romantic costume upon a personhabited in the courtly dress of the last century. It was formed upon agentle southern slope, with turfen terraces walled in on three sides, the fourth consisting of arches of golden yew. The duke had given thisgarden to Lady Corisande, in order that she might practise her theory, that flower-gardens should be sweet and luxuriant, and not hard andscentless imitations of works of art. Here, in their season, flourishedabundantly all those productions of Nature which are now banished fromour once delighted senses; huge bushes of honey-suckle, and bowers ofsweet-pea and sweet-brier, and jessamine clustering over the walls, andgillyflowers scenting with their sweet breath the ancient bricks fromwhich they seemed to spring. There were banks of violets which thesouthern breeze always stirred, and mignonette filled every vacant nook. As they entered now, it seemed a blaze of roses and carnations, thoughone recognized in a moment the presence of the lily, the heliotrope, andthe stock. Some white peacocks were basking on the southern wall, andone of them, as their visitors entered, moved and displayed its plumagewith scornful pride. The bees were busy in the air, but their homes werenear, and you might watch them laboring in their glassy hives. 

"Now, is not Corisande quite right?" said Lord St. Aldegonde, as hepresented Madame Phoebus with a garland of woodbine, with which she saidshe would dress her head at dinner. All agreed with him, and Bertram andEuphrosyne adorned each other with carnations, and Mr. Phoebus placeda flower on the uncovered head of Lady St. Aldegonde, according to theprinciples of high art, and they sauntered and rambled in the sweet andsunny air amid a blaze of butterflies and the ceaseless hum of bees. 

Bertram and Euphrosyne had disappeared; and the rest were lingeringabout the hives while Mr. Phoebus gave them a lecture on the apiary andits marvellous life. The bees understood Mr. Phoebus, at least he saidso, and thus his friends had considerable advantage in this lesson inentomology. Lady Corisande and Lothair were in a distant corner of thegarden, and she was explaining to him her plans; what she had done andwhat she meant to do. 

"I wish I had a garden like this at Muriel, " said Lothair. 

"You could easily make one. "

"If you helped me. "

"I have told you all my plans, " said Lady Corisande. 

"Yes; but I was thinking of something else when you spoke, " saidLothair. 

"That was not very complimentary. "

"I do not wish to be complimentary, " said Lothair, "if compliments meanless than they declare. I was not thinking of your garden, but of you. "

"Where can they have all gone?" said Lady Corisande, looking round. "Wemust find them. "

"And leave this garden?" said Lothair. "And I without a flower, the onlyone without a flower? I am afraid that is significant of my lot. "

"You shall choose a rose, " said Lady Corisande. 

"Nay; the charm is, that it should be your choice. "

But choosing the rose lost more times and, when Corisande and Lothairreached the arches of golden yew, there were no friends in sight. 

"I think I hear sounds this way, " said Lothair, and he led his companionfarther from home. 

"I see no one, " said Lady Corisande, distressed, and when they hadadvanced a little way. 

"We are sure to find them in good time, " said Lothair. "Besides, Iwanted to speak to you about the garden at Muriel. I wanted to induceyou to go there and help me to make it. Yes, " he added, after somehesitation, "on this spot--I believe on this very spot--I asked thepermission of your mother two years ago to express to you my love. Shethought me a boy, and she treated me as a boy. She said I knew nothingof the world, and both our characters were unformed. I know the worldnow. I have committed many mistakes, doubtless many follies--have formedmany opinions, and have changed many opinions; but to one I have beenconstant, in one I am unchanged--and that is my adoring love to you. "

She turned pale, she stopped, then, gently taking his arm, she hid herface in his breast. 

He soothed and sustained her agitated frame, and sealed with an embraceher speechless form. Then, with soft thoughts and softer words, clingingto him, he induced her to resume their stroll, which both of them nowwished might assuredly be undisturbed. They had arrived at the limitof the pleasure-grounds, and they wandered into the park and its mostsequestered parts. All this time Lothair spoke much, and gave her thehistory of his life since he first visited her home. Lady Corisandesaid little, but, when she was more composed, she told him that from thefirst her heart had been his, but every thing seemed to go against herhopes. Perhaps at last, to please her parents, she would have marriedthe Duke of Brecon, had not Lothair returned; and what he had said toher that morning at Crecy House had decided her resolution, whatevermight be her lot; to unite it to no one else but him. But then came theadventure of the crucifix, and she thought all was over for her, and shequitted town in despair. 

"Let us rest here for a while;" said Lothair, "under the shade of thisoak;" and Lady Corisande reclined against its mighty trunk, and Lothairthrew himself at her feet. He had a great deal still to tell her, and, among other things, the story of the pearls, which he had wished to giveto Theodora. 

"She was, after all, your good genius, " said Lady Corisande. "I alwaysliked her. "

"Well, now, " said Lothair, "that case has never been opened. The yearhas elapsed, but I would not open it, for I had always a wild wish thatthe person who opened it should be yourself. See, here it is. " And hegave her the case. 

"We will not break the seal, " said Corisande. "Let us respect it forher sake--ROMA!" she said, examining it; and then they opened the case. There was the slip of paper which Theodora, at the time, had placed uponthe pearls, and on which she had written some unseen words. They wereread now, and ran thus:

"THE OFFERING OF THEODORA TO LOTHAIR'S BRIDE. "

"Let me place them on you now, " said Lothair. 

"I will wear them as your chains, " said Corisande. 

The sun began to tell them that some hours had elapsed since theyquitted Brentham House. At last a soft hand, which Lothair retained, gave him a slight pressure, and a sweet voice whispered: "Dearest, Ithink we ought to return. "

And they returned almost in silence. They rather calculated that, takingadvantage of the luncheon-hour, Corisande might escape to her room, butthey were a little too late. Luncheon was over, and they met the duchessand a large party on the terrace. 

"What has become of you, my good people?" said her grace; "bells havebeen ringing for you in every direction. Where can you have been?"

"I have been in Corisande's garden, " said Lothair, "and she has given mea rose. "