Endymion - Benjamin Disraeli
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LADY MONTFORT'S LETTER
"What is it all about? and what does it all mean? I should have thought
some great calamity had occurred if, however distressing, it did not
appear in some sense to be gratifying. What is gratifying? You deal in
conundrums, which I never could find out. Of course I shall be at home
to you at any time, if you wish to see me. Pray come on at once, as I
detest mysteries. I went to the play last night with your sister. We
both of us rather expected to see you, but it seems neither of us had
mentioned to you we were going. I did not, for I was too low-spirited
about your affairs. You lost nothing. The piece was stupid beyond
expression. We laughed heartily, at least I did, to show we were not
afraid. My lord came home last night suddenly. Odo is going to stand for
the county, and his borough is vacant. What an opportunity it would have
been for you! a certain seat. But I care for no boroughs now. My lord
will want you to dine with him to-day; I hope you can come. Perhaps he
will not be able to see you this morning, as his agent will be with him
about these elections. Adieu!"
If Lady Montfort did not like conundrums, she had succeeded, however,
in sending one sufficiently perplexing to Endymion. Could it be possible
that the writer of this letter was the unknown benefactress of the
preceding eve? Lady Montfort was not a mystifier. Her nature was
singularly frank and fearless, and when Endymion told her everything
that had occurred, and gave her the document which originally he had
meant to bring with him in order to return it, her amazement and her joy
were equal.
"I wish I had sent it," said Lady Montfort, "but that was impossible.
I do not care who did send it; I have no female curiosity except about
matters which, by knowledge, I may influence. This is finished. You are
free. You cannot hesitate as to your course. I never could speak to you
again if you did hesitate. Stop here, and I will go to my lord. This
is a great day. If we can settle only to-day that you shall be the
candidate for our borough, I really shall not much care for the change
of ministry."
Lady Montfort was a long time away. Endymion would have liked to have
gone forth on his affairs, but she had impressed upon him so earnestly
to wait for her return that he felt he could not retire. The room was
one to which he was not unaccustomed, otherwise, its contents would not
have been uninteresting; her portrait by more than one great master, a
miniature of her husband in a Venetian dress upon her writing-table--a
table which wonderfully indicated alike the lady of fashion and the
lady of business, for there seemed to be no form in which paper could be
folded and emblazoned which was there wanting; quires of letter
paper, and note paper, and notelet paper, from despatches of state to
billet-doux, all were ready; great covers with arms and supporters, more
moderate ones with "Berengaria" in letters of glittering fancy, and the
destined shells of diminutive effusions marked only with a golden
bee. There was another table covered with trinkets and precious toys;
snuff-boxes and patch-boxes beautifully painted, exquisite miniatures,
rare fans, cups of agate, birds glittering with gems almost as radiant
as the tropic plumage they imitated, wild animals cut out of ivory,
or formed of fantastic pearls--all the spoils of queens and royal
mistresses.
Upon the walls were drawings of her various homes; that of her
childhood, as well as of the hearths she ruled and loved. There were
a few portraits on the walls also of those whom she ranked as her
particular friends. Lord Roehampton was one, another was the Count of
Ferroll.
Time went on; on a little table, by the side of evidently her favourite
chair, was a book she had been reading. It was a German tale of fame,
and Endymion, dropping into her seat, became interested in a volume
which hitherto he had never seen, but of which he had heard much.
Perhaps he had been reading for some time; there was a sound, he started
and looked up, and then, springing from his chair, he said, "Something
has happened!"
Lady Montfort was quite pale, and the expression of her countenance
distressed, but when he said these words she tried to smile, and said,
"No, no, nothing, nothing,--at least nothing to distress you. My lord
hopes you will be able to dine with him to-day, and tell him all the
news." And then she threw herself into a chair and sighed. "I should
like to have a good cry, as the servants say--but I never could cry. I
will tell you all about it in a moment. You were very good not to go."
It seems that Lady Montfort saw her lord before the agent, who was
waiting, had had his interview, and the opportunity being in every
way favourable, she felt the way about obtaining his cousin's seat
for Endymion. Lord Montfort quite embraced this proposal. It had never
occurred to him. He had no idea that Ferrars contemplated parliament.
It was a capital idea. He could not bear reading the parliament reports,
and yet he liked to know a little of what was going on. Now, when
anything happened of interest, he should have it all from the
fountain-head. "And you must tell him, Berengaria," he continued, "that
he can come and dine here whenever he likes, in boots. It is a settled
thing that M.P.'s may dine in boots. I think it a most capital plan.
Besides, I know it will please you. You will have your own member."
Then he rang the bell, and begged Lady Montfort to remain and see the
agent. Nothing like the present time for business. They would make all
the arrangements at once, and he would ask the agent to dine with them
to-day, and so meet Mr. Ferrars.
So the agent entered, and it was all explained to him, calmly and
clearly, briefly by my lord, but with fervent amplification by his
charming wife. The agent several times attempted to make a remark, but
for some time he was unsuccessful; Lady Montfort was so anxious that he
should know all about Mr. Ferrars, the most rising young man of the day,
the son of the Right Honourable William Pitt Ferrars, who, had he not
died, would probably have been prime minister, and so on.
"Mr. Ferrars seems to be everything we could wish," said the agent, "and
as you say, my lady, though he is young, so was Mr. Pitt, and I have
little doubt, after what you say, my lady, that it is very likely he
will in time become as eminent. But what I came up to town particularly
to impress upon my lord is, that if Mr. Odo will not stand again, we are
in a very great difficulty."
"Difficulty about what?" said Lady Montfort impatiently.
"Well, my lady, if Mr. Odo stands, there is great respect for him. The
other side would not disturb him. He has been member for some years,
and my lord has been very liberal. But the truth is, if Mr. Odo does not
stand, we cannot command the seat."
"Not command the seat! Then our interest must have been terribly
neglected."
"I hope not, my lady," said the agent. "The fact is, the property is
against us."
"I thought it was all my lord's."
"No, my lady; the strong interest in the borough is my Lord Beaumaris.
It used to be about equal, but all the new buildings are in Lord
Beaumaris' part of the borough. It would not have signified if things
had remained as in the old days. The grandfather of the present lord was
a Whig, and always supported the Montforts, but that's all changed.
The present earl has gone over to the other side, and, I hear, is very
strong in his views."
Lady Montfort had to communicate all this to Endymion. "You will meet
the agent at dinner, but he did not give me a ray of hope. Go now;
indeed, I have kept you too long. I am so stricken that I can scarcely
command my senses. Only think of our borough being stolen from us by
Lord Beaumaris! I have brought you no luck, Endymion; I have done you
nothing but mischief; I am miserable. If you had attached yourself to
Lady Beaumaris, you might have been a member of parliament."
CHAPTER LXIX
In the meantime, the great news being no longer a secret, the utmost
excitement prevailed in the world of politics. The Tories had quite made
up their minds that the ministry would have resigned, and were sanguine,
under such circumstances, of the result. The parliament, which the
ministry was going to dissolve, was one which had been elected by
their counsel and under their auspices. It was unusual, almost
unconstitutional, thus to terminate the body they had created.
Nevertheless, the Whigs, never too delicate in such matters, thought
they had a chance, and determined not to lose it. One thing they
immediately succeeded in, and that was, frightening their opponents.
A dissolution with the Tories in opposition was not pleasant to that
party; but a dissolution with a cry of "Cheap bread!" amid a partially
starving population, was not exactly the conjuncture of providential
circumstances which had long been watched and wished for, and cherished
and coddled and proclaimed and promised, by the energetic army of
Conservative wire-pullers.
Mr. Tadpole was very restless at the crowded Carlton, speaking to
every one, unhesitatingly answering every question, alike cajoling and
dictatorial, and yet, all the time, watching the door of the morning
room with unquiet anxiety.
"They will never be able to get up the steam, Sir Thomas; the Chartists
are against them. The Chartists will never submit to anything that is
cheap. In spite of their wild fancies, they are real John Bulls. I
beg your pardon, but I see a gentleman I must speak to," and he rushed
towards the door as Waldershare entered.
"Well, what is your news?" asked Mr. Tadpole, affecting unconcern.
"I come here for news," said Waldershare. "This is my Academus, and you,
Tadpole, are my Plato."
"Well, if you want the words of a wise man, listen to me. If I had a
great friend, which Mr. Waldershare probably has, who wants a great
place, these are times in which such a man should show his power."
"I have a great friend whom I wish to have a great place," said
Waldershare, "and I think he is quite ready to show his power, if he
knew exactly how to exercise it."
"What I am saying to you is not known to a single person in this room,
and to only one out of it, but you may depend upon what I say. Lord
Montfort's cousin retires from Northborough to sit for the county. They
think they can nominate his successor as a matter of course. A delusion;
your friend Lord Beaumaris can command the seat."
"Well, I think you can depend on Beaumaris," said Waldershare, much
interested.
"I depend upon you," said Mr. Tadpole, with a glance of affectionate
credulity. "The party already owes you much. This will be a crowning
service."
"Beaumaris is rather a queer man to deal with," said Waldershare; "he
requires gentle handling."
"All the world says he consults you on everything."
"All the world, as usual, is wrong," said Waldershare. "Lord Beaumaris
consults no one except Lady Beaumaris."
"Well then we shall do," rejoined Mr. Tadpole triumphantly. "Our man
that I want him to return is a connection of Lady Beaumaris, a Mr.
Rodney, very anxious to get into parliament, and rich. I do not know who
he is exactly, but it is a good name; say a cousin of Lord Rodney until
the election is over, and then they may settle it as they like."
"A Mr. Rodney," said Waldershare musingly; "well, if I hear anything I
will let you know. I suppose you are in pretty good spirits?"
"I should like a little sunshine. A cold spring, and now a wet summer,
and the certainty of a shocking harvest combined with manufacturing
distress spreading daily, is not pleasant, but the English are a
discriminating people. They will hardly persuade them that Sir Robert
has occasioned the bad harvests."
"The present men are clearly responsible for all that," said
Waldershare.
There was a reception at Lady Roehampton's this evening. Very few Tories
attended it, but Lady Beaumaris was there. She never lost an opportunity
of showing by her presence how grateful she was to Myra for the kindness
which had greeted Imogene when she first entered society. Endymion,
as was his custom when the opportunity offered, rather hung about
Lady Beaumaris. She always welcomed him with unaffected cordiality and
evident pleasure. He talked to her, and then gave way to others, and
then came and talked to her again, and then he proposed to take her to
have a cup of tea, and she assented to the proposal with a brightening
eye and a bewitching smile.
"I suppose your friends are very triumphant, Lady Beaumaris?" said
Endymion.
"Yes; they naturally are very excited. I confess I am not myself."
"But you ought to be," said Endymion. "You will have an immense
position. I should think Lord Beaumaris would have any office he chose,
and yours will be the chief house of the party."
"I do not know that Lord Beaumaris would care to have office, and I
hardly think any office would suit him. As for myself, I am obliged to
be ambitious, but I have no ambition, or rather I would say, I think I
was happier when we all seemed to be on the same side."
"Well, those were happy days," said Endymion, "and these are happy days.
And few things make me happier than to see Lady Beaumaris admired and
appreciated by every one."
"I wish you would not call me Lady Beaumaris. That may be, and indeed
perhaps is, necessary in society, but when we are alone, I prefer being
called by a name which once you always and kindly used."
"I shall always love the name," said Endymion, "and," he added with some
hesitation, "shall always love her who bears it."
She involuntarily pressed his arm, though very slightly; and then in
rather a hushed and hurried tone she said, "They were talking about you
at dinner to-day. I fear this change of government, if there is to be
one, will be injurious to you--losing your private secretaryship to Mr.
Wilton, and perhaps other things?"
"Fortune of war," said Endymion; "we must bear these haps. But the truth
is, I think it is not unlikely that there may be a change in my life
which may be incompatible with retaining my secretaryship under any
circumstances."
"You are not going to be married?" she said quickly.
"Not the slightest idea of such an event."
"You are too young to marry."
"Well, I am older than you."
"Yes; but men and women are different in that matter. Besides, you have
too many fair friends to marry, at least at present. What would Lady
Roehampton say?"
"Well, I have sometimes thought my sister wished me to marry."
"But then there are others who are not sisters, but who are equally
interested in your welfare," said Lady Beaumaris, looking up into his
face with her wondrous eyes; but the lashes were so long, that it was
impossible to decide whether the glance was an anxious one or one half
of mockery.
"Well, I do not think I shall ever marry," said Endymion. "The change in
my life I was alluding to is one by no means of a romantic character. I
have some thoughts of trying my luck on the hustings, and getting into
parliament."
"That would be delightful," said Lady Beaumaris. "Do you know that it
has been one of my dreams that you should be in parliament?"
"Ah! dearest Imogene, for you said I might call you Imogene, you must
take care what you say. Remember we are unhappily in different camps.
You must not wish me success in my enterprise; quite the reverse; it
is more than probable that you will have to exert all your influence
against me; yes, canvass against me, and wear hostile ribbons, and use
all your irresistible charms to array electors against me, or to detach
them from my ranks."
"Even in jest, you ought not to say such things," said Lady Beaumaris.
"But I am not in jest, I am in dreadful earnest. Only this morning I was
offered a seat, which they told me was secure; but when I inquired into
all the circumstances, I found the interest of Lord Beaumaris so great,
that it would be folly for me to attempt it."
"What seat?" inquired Lady Beaumaris in a low voice.
"Northborough," said Endymion, "now held by Lord Montfort's cousin, who
is to come in for his county. The seat was offered to me, and I was told
I was to be returned without opposition."
"Lady Montfort offered it to you?" asked Imogene.
"She interested herself for me, and Lord Montfort approved the
suggestion. It was described to me as a family seat, but when I looked
into the matter, I found that Lord Beaumaris was more powerful than Lord
Montfort."
"I thought that Lady Montfort was irresistible," said Imogene; "she
carries all before her in society."
"Society and politics have much to do with each other, but they are not
identical. In the present case, Lady Montfort is powerless."
"And have you formally abandoned the seat?" inquired Lady Beaumaris.
"Not formally abandoned it; that was not necessary, but I have dismissed
it from my mind, and for some time have been trying to find another
seat, but hitherto without success. In short, in these days it is no
longer possible to step into parliament as if you were stepping into a
club."
"If I could do anything, however little?" said Imogene. "Perhaps Lady
Montfort would not like me to interfere?"
"Why not?"
"Oh! I do not know," and then after some hesitation she added, "Is she
jealous?"
"Jealous! why should she be jealous?"
"Perhaps she has had no cause."
"You know Lady Montfort. She is a woman of quick and brilliant feeling,
the best of friends and a dauntless foe. Her kindness to me from the
first moment I made her acquaintance has been inexpressible, and I
sincerely believe she is most anxious to serve me. But our party is not
very popular at present; there is no doubt the country is against us. It
is tired of us. I feel myself the general election will be disastrous.
Liberal seats are not abundant just now, quite the reverse, and though
Lady Montfort has done more than any one could under the circumstances,
I feel persuaded, though you think her irresistible, she will not
succeed."
"I hardly know her," said Imogene. "The world considers her
irresistible, and I think you do. Nevertheless, I wish she could
have had her way in this matter, and I think it quite a pity that
Northborough has turned out not to be a family seat."
CHAPTER LXX
There was a dinner-party at Mr. Neuchatel's, to which none were asked
but the high government clique. It was the last dinner before the
dissolution: "The dinner of consolation, or hope," said Lord Roehampton.
Lady Montfort was to be one of the guests. She was dressed, and her
carriage in the courtyard, and she had just gone in to see her lord
before she departed.
Lord Montfort was extremely fond of jewels, and held that you could not
see them to advantage, or fairly judge of their water or colour, except
on a beautiful woman. When his wife was in grand toilette, and he was
under the same roof, he liked her to call on him in her way to her
carriage, that he might see her flashing rivieres and tiaras, the lustre
of her huge pearls, and the splendour of her emeralds and sapphires and
rubies.
"Well, Berengaria," he said in a playful tone, "you look divine. Never
dine out again in a high dress. It distresses me. Bertolini was the only
man who ever caught the tournure of your shoulders, and yet I am not
altogether satisfied with his work. So, you are going to dine with that
good Neuchatel. Remember me kindly to him. There are few men I like
better. He is so sensible, knows so much, and so much of what is going
on. I should have liked very much to have dined with him, but he is
aware of my unfortunate state. Besides, my dear, if I were better
I should not have enough strength for his dinners. They are really
banquets; I cannot stand those ortolans stuffed with truffles and those
truffles stuffed with ortolans. Perhaps he will come and dine with us
some day off a joint."
"The Queen of Mesopotamia will be here next week, Simon, and we
must really give her what you call a joint, and then we can ask the
Neuchatels and a few other people."
"I was in hopes the dissolution would have carried everybody away," said
Lord Montfort rather woefully. "I wish the Queen of Mesopotamia were a
candidate for some borough; I think she would rather like it."
"Well, we could not return her, Simon; do not touch on the subject. But
what have you got to amuse to-day?"
"Oh! I shall do very well. I have got the head of the French detective
police to dine with me, and another man or two. Besides, I have got
here a most amusing book, 'Topsy Turvy;' it comes out in numbers. I like
books that come out in numbers, as there is a little suspense, and you
cannot deprive yourself of all interest by glancing at the last page of
the last volume. I think you must read 'Topsy Turvy,' Berengaria. I am
mistaken if you do not hear of it. It is very cynical, which authors,
who know a little of the world, are apt to be, and everything is
exaggerated, which is another of their faults when they are only a
trifle acquainted with manners. A little knowledge of the world is a
very dangerous thing, especially in literature. But it is clever, and
the man writes a capital style; and style is everything, especially in
fiction."
"And what is the name of the writer, Simon?"
"You never heard of it; I never did; but my secretary, who lives much in
Bohemia, and is a member of the Cosmopolitan and knows everything, tells
me he has written some things before, but they did not succeed. His name
is St. Barbe. I should like to ask him to dinner if I knew how to get at
him."
"Well, adieu! Simon," and, with an agitated heart, though apparent
calmness, she touched his forehead with her lips. "I expect an
unsatisfactory dinner."
"Adieu! and if you meet poor Ferrars, which I dare say you will, tell
him to keep up his spirits. The world is a wheel, and it will all come
round right."
The dinner ought not to have been unsatisfactory, for though there was
no novelty among the guests, they were all clever and distinguished
persons and united by entire sympathy. Several of the ministers were
there, and the Roehamptons, and Mr. Sidney Wilton, and Endymion was
also a guest. But the general tone was a little affected and unnatural;
forced gaiety, and a levity which displeased Lady Montfort, who fancied
she was unhappy because the country was going to be ruined, but whose
real cause of dissatisfaction at the bottom of her heart was the affair
of "the family seat." Her hero, Lord Roehampton, particularly did not
please her to-day. She thought him flippant and in bad taste, merely
because he would not look dismal and talk gloomily.
"I think we shall do very well," he said. "What cry can be better than
that of 'Cheap bread?' It gives one an appetite at once."
"But the Corn-Law League says your bread will not be cheap," said
Melchior Neuchatel.
"I wonder whether the League has really any power in the
constituencies," said Lord Roehampton. "I doubt it. They may have in
time, but then in the interval trade will revive. I have just been
reading Mr. Thornberry's speech. We shall hear more of that man. You
will not be troubled about any of your seats?" he said, in a lower tone
of sympathy, addressing Mrs. Neuchatel, who was his immediate neighbour.
"Our seats?" said Mrs. Neuchatel, as if waking from a dream. "Oh, I know
nothing about them, nor do I understand why there is a dissolution. I
trust that parliament will not be dissolved without voting the money for
the observation of the transit of Venus."
"I think the Roman Catholic vote will carry us through," said a
minister.
"Talking of Roman Catholics," said Mr. Wilton, "is it true that
Penruddock has gone over to Rome?"
"No truth in it," replied a colleague. "He has gone to Rome--there is
no doubt of that, and he has been there some time, but only for
distraction. He had overworked himself."
"He might have been a Dean if he had been a practical man," whispered
Lady Montfort to Mr. Neuchatel, "and on the high road to a bishopric."
"That is what we want, Lady Montfort," said Mr. Neuchatel; "we want
a few practical men. If we had a practical man as Chancellor of the
Exchequer, we should not be in the scrape in which we now are."
"It is not likely that Penruddock will leave the Church with a change
of government possibly impending. We could do nothing for him with his
views, but he will wait for Peel."
"Oh! Peel will never stand those high-fliers. He put the Church into a
Lay Commission during his last government."
"Penruddock will never give up Anglicanism while there is a chance of
becoming a Laud. When that chance vanishes, trust my word, Penruddock
will make his bow to the Vatican."
"Well, I must say," said Lord Roehampton, "if I were a clergyman I
should be a Roman Catholic."
"Then you could not marry. What a compliment to Lady Roehampton!"
"Nay; it is because I could not marry that I am not a clergyman."
Endymion had taken Adriana down to dinner. She looked very well, and was
more talkative than usual.
"I fear it will be a very great confusion--this general election," she
said. "Papa was telling us that you think of being a candidate."