Endymion - Benjamin Disraeli
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The brother-in-law of Lord Roehampton was a sort of personage. It was
very true that distinguished man was no longer minister, but he had been
minister for a long time, and had left a great name. Foreigners rarely
know more than one English minister at a time, but they compensated for
their ignorance of the aggregate body by even exaggerating the qualities
of the individual with whom they are acquainted. Lord Roehampton had
conducted the affairs of his country always in a courteous, but still in
a somewhat haughty spirit. He was easy and obliging, and conciliatory in
little matters, but where the credit, or honour, or large interests
of England were concerned, he acted with conscious authority. On the
continent of Europe, though he sometimes incurred the depreciation of
the smaller minds, whose self-love he may not have sufficiently spared,
by the higher spirits he was feared and admired, and they knew, when he
gave his whole soul to an affair, that they were dealing with a master.
Endymion was presented to emperors and kings, and he made his way with
these exalted personages. He found them different from what he had
expected. He was struck by their intimate acquaintance with affairs, and
by the serenity of their judgment. The life was a pleasant as well as
an interesting one. Where there are crowned heads, there are always some
charming women. Endymion found himself in a delightful circle. Long days
and early hours, and a beautiful country, renovate the spirit as well
as the physical frame. Excursions to romantic forests, and visits to
picturesque ruins, in the noon of summer, are enchanting, especially
with princesses for your companions, bright and accomplished. Yet,
notwithstanding some distractions, Endymion never omitted writing to
Lady Montfort every day.
CHAPTER LXXIII
The season at Paris, which commenced towards the end of the year, was
a lively one, and especially interesting to Endymion, who met there a
great many of his friends. After his visit to the baths he had travelled
alone for a few weeks, and saw some famous places of which he had
long heard. A poet was then sitting on the throne of Bavaria, and was
realising his dreams in the creation of an ideal capital. The Black
Forest is a land of romance. He saw Walhalla, too, crowning the Danube
with the genius of Germany, as mighty as the stream itself. Pleasant it
is to wander among the quaint cities here clustering together: Nuremberg
with all its ancient art, imperial Augsburg, and Wurzburg with its
priestly palace, beyond the splendour of many kings. A summer in Suabia
is a great joy.
But what a contrast to the Rue de la Paix, bright and vivacious, in
which he now finds himself, and the companion of the Neuchatel family!
Endymion had only returned to Paris the previous evening, and the
Neuchatels had preceded him by a week; so they had seen everybody and
could tell him everything. Lord and Lady Beaumaris were there, and
Mrs. Rodney their companion, her husband detained in London by some
mysterious business; it was thought a seat in parliament, which Mr.
Tadpole had persuaded him might be secured on a vacancy occasioned by a
successful petition. They had seen the Count of Ferroll, who was going
to dine with them that day, and Endymion was invited to meet him. It was
Adriana's first visit to Paris, and she seemed delighted with it; but
Mrs. Neuchatel preferred the gay capital when it was out of season.
Mr. Neuchatel himself was always in high spirits,--sanguine and
self-satisfied. He was an Orleanist, had always been so, and sympathised
with the apparently complete triumph of his principles--"real liberal
principles, no nonsense; there was more gold in the Bank of France than
in any similar establishment in Europe. After all, wealth is the test
of the welfare of a people, and the test of wealth is the command of
the precious metals. Eh! Mr. Member of Parliament?" And his eye flashed
fire, and he seemed to smack his lips at the very thought and mention of
these delicious circumstances.
They were in a jeweller's shop, and Mrs. Neuchatel was choosing a
trinket for a wedding present. She seemed infinitely distressed. "What
do you think of this, Adriana? It is simple and in good taste. I should
like it for myself, and yet I fear it might not be thought fine enough."
"This is pretty, mamma, and new," and she held before her mother a
bracelet of much splendour.
"Oh, no! that will never do, dear Adriana; they will say we are
purse-proud."
"I am afraid they will always say that, mamma," and she sighed.
"It is a long time since we all separated," said Endymion to Adriana.
"Months! Mr. Sidney Wilton said you were the first runaway. I think you
were quite right. Your new life now will be fresh to you. If you
had remained, it would only have been associated with defeat and
discomfiture."
"I am so happy to be in parliament, that I do not think I could ever
associate such a life with discomfiture."
"Does it make you very happy?" said Adriana, looking at him rather
earnestly.
"Very happy."
"I am glad of that."
The Neuchatels had a house at Paris--one of the fine hotels of the First
Empire. It was inhabited generally by one of the nephews, but it was
always ready to receive them with every luxury and every comfort. But
Mrs. Neuchatel herself particularly disliked Paris, and she rarely
accompanied her husband in his frequent but brief visits to the gay
city. She had yielded on this occasion to the wish of Adriana, whom
she had endeavoured to bring up in a wholesome prejudice against French
taste and fashions.
The dinner to-day was exquisite, in a chamber of many-coloured marbles,
and where there was no marble there was gold, and when the banquet was
over, they repaired to saloons hung with satin of a delicate tint which
exhibited to perfection a choice collection of Greuse and Vanloo. Mr.
Sidney Wilton dined there as well as the Count of Ferroll, some of the
French ministers, and two or three illustrious Orleanist celebrities of
literature, who acknowledged and emulated the matchless conversational
powers of Mrs. Neuchatel. Lord and Lady Beaumaris and Mrs. Rodney
completed the party.
Sylvia was really peerless. She was by birth half a Frenchwoman, and
she compensated for her deficiency in the other moiety, by a series of
exquisite costumes, in which she mingled with the spell-born fashion of
France her own singular genius in dress. She spoke not much, but looked
prettier than ever; a little haughty, and now and then faintly smiling.
What was most remarkable about her was her convenient and complete
want of memory. Sylvia had no past. She could not have found her way to
Warwick Street to save her life. She conversed with Endymion with ease
and not without gratification, but from all she said, you might have
supposed that they had been born in the same sphere, and always lived
in the same sphere, that sphere being one peopled by duchesses and
countesses and gentlemen of fashion and ministers of state.
Lady Beaumaris was different from her sister almost in all respects,
except in beauty, though her beauty even was of a higher style than that
of Mrs. Rodney. Imogene was quite natural, though refined. She had a
fine disposition. All her impulses were good and naturally noble.
She had a greater intellectual range than Sylvia, and was much more
cultivated. This she owed to her friendship with Mr. Waldershare, who
was entirely devoted to her, and whose main object in life was to make
everything contribute to her greatness. "I hope he will come here next
week," she said to Endymion. "I heard from him to-day. He is at Venice.
And he gives me such lovely descriptions of that city, that I shall
never rest till I have seen it and glided in a gondola."
"Well, that you can easily do."
"Not so easily. It will never do to interfere with my lord's
hunting--and when hunting is over there is always something
else--Newmarket, or the House of Lords, or rook-shooting."
"I must say there is something delightful about Paris, which you meet
nowhere else," said Mr. Sidney Wilton to Endymion. "For my part, it has
the same effect on me as a bottle of champagne. When I think of what we
were doing at this time last year--those dreadful November cabinets--I
shudder! By the by, the Count of Ferroll says there is a chance of Lady
Montfort coming here; have you heard anything?"
Endymion knew all about it, but he was too discreet even to pretend to
exclusive information on that head. He thought it might be true, but
supposed it depended on my lord.
"Oh! Montfort will never come. He will bolt at the last moment when the
hall is full of packages. Their very sight will frighten him, and he
will steal down to Princedown and read 'Don Quixote.'"
Sidney Wilton was quite right. Lady Montfort arrived without her lord.
"He threw me over almost as we were getting into the carriage, and I
had quite given it up when dear Lady Roehampton came to my rescue. She
wanted to see her brother, and--here we are."
The arrival of these two great ladies gave a stimulant to gaieties which
were already excessive. The court and the ministers rivalled the balls
and the banquets which were profusely offered by the ambassadors and
bankers. Even the great faubourg relaxed, and its halls of high ceremony
and mysterious splendour were opened to those who in London had extended
to many of their order a graceful and abounding hospitality. It was with
difficulty, however, that they persuaded Lady Montfort to honour with
her presence the embassy of her own court.
"I dined with those people once," she said to Endymion, "but I confess
when I thought of those dear Granvilles, their _entrees_ stuck in my
throat."
There was, however, no lack of diplomatic banquets for the successor
of Louise of Savoy. The splendid hotel of the Count of Ferroll was the
scene of festivals not to be exceeded in Paris, and all in honour of
this wondrous dame. Sometimes they were feasts, sometimes they were
balls, sometimes they were little dinners, consummate and select,
sometimes large receptions, multifarious and amusing. Her pleasure was
asked every morn, and whenever she was disengaged, she issued orders to
his devoted household. His boxes at opera or play were at her constant
disposal; his carriages were at her command, and she rode, in his
society, the most beautiful horses in Paris.
The Count of Ferroll had wished that both ladies should have taken up
their residence at his mansion.
"But I think we had better not," said Lady Montfort to Myra. "After all,
there is nothing like 'my crust of bread and liberty,' and so I think we
had better stay at the Bristol."
CHAPTER LXXIV
"Go and talk to Adriana," said Lady Roehampton to her brother. "It seems
to me you never speak to her."
Endymion looked a little confused.
"Lady Montfort has plenty of friends here," his sister continued. "You
are not wanted, and you should always remember those who have been our
earliest and kindest friends."
There was something in Lady Roehampton's words and look which rather
jarred upon him. Anything like reproach or dissatisfaction from those
lips and from that countenance, sometimes a little anxious but always
affectionate, not to say adoring, confused and even agitated him. He was
tempted to reply, but, exercising successfully the self-control which
was the result rather of his life than of his nature, he said nothing,
and, in obedience to the intimation, immediately approached Miss
Neuchatel.
About this time Waldershare arrived at Paris, full of magnificent dreams
which he called plans. He was delighted with his office; it was much the
most important in the government, and more important because it was not
in the cabinet. Well managed, it was power without responsibility. He
explained to Lady Beaumaris that an Under-Secretary of State for Foreign
Affairs, with his chief in the House of Lords, was "master of the
situation." What the situation was, and what the under-secretary was
to master, he did not yet deign to inform Imogene; but her trust in
Waldershare was implicit, and she repeated to Lord Beaumaris, and
to Mrs. Rodney, with an air of mysterious self-complacency, that Mr.
Waldershare was "master of the situation." Mrs. Rodney fancied that this
was the correct and fashionable title of an under-secretary of
state. Mr. Waldershare was going to make a collection of portraits of
Under-Secretaries for Foreign Affairs whose chiefs had been in the House
of Lords. It would be a collection of the most eminent statesmen that
England had ever produced. For the rest, during his Italian tour,
Waldershare seemed to have conducted himself with distinguished
discretion, and had been careful not to solicit an audience of the Duke
of Modena in order to renew his oath of allegiance.
When Lady Montfort successfully tempted Lady Roehampton to be her
travelling companion to Paris, the contemplated visit was to have been
a short one--"a week, perhaps ten days at the outside." The outside had
been not inconsiderably passed, and yet the beautiful Berengaria showed
no disposition of returning to England. Myra was uneasy at her own
protracted absence from her lord, and having made a last, but fruitless
effort to induce Lady Montfort to accompany her, she said one day to
Endymion, "I think I must ask you to take me back. And indeed you ought
to be with my lord some little time before the meeting of Parliament."
Endymion was really of the same opinion, though he was conscious of the
social difficulty which he should have to encounter in order to effect
his purpose. Occasionally a statesman in opposition is assisted by the
same private secretary who was his confidant when in office; but this
is not always the case--perhaps not even generally. In the present
instance, the principal of Lord Roehampton's several secretaries had
been selected from the permanent clerks in the Foreign Office itself,
and therefore when his chief retired from his official duties, the
private secretary resumed his previous post, an act which necessarily
terminated all relations between himself and the late minister, save
those of private, though often still intimate, acquaintance.
Now one of the great objects of Lady Roehampton for a long time had
been, that her brother should occupy a confidential position near her
husband. The desire had originally been shared, and even warmly, by
Lady Montfort; but the unexpected entrance of Endymion into the House of
Commons had raised a technical difficulty in this respect which seemed
to terminate the cherished prospect. Myra, however, was resolved not to
regard these technical difficulties, and was determined to establish
at once the intimate relations she desired between her husband and her
brother. This purpose had been one of the principal causes which induced
her to accompany Lady Montfort to Paris. She wanted to see Endymion,
to see what he was about, and to prepare him for the future which she
contemplated.
The view which Lady Montfort took of these matters was very different
from that of Lady Roehampton. Lady Montfort was in her riding habit,
leaning back in an easy chair, with her whip in one hand and the
"Charivari" in the other, and she said, "Are you not going to ride
to-day, Endymion?"
"I think not. I wanted to talk to you a little about my plans, Lady
Montfort."
"Your plans? Why should you have any plans?"
"Well, Lady Roehampton is about to return to England, and she proposes I
should go with her."
"Why?"
And then Endymion entered into the whole case, the desirableness
of being with Lord Roehampton before the meeting of parliament, of
assisting him, working with him, acting for him, and all the other
expedient circumstances of the situation.
Lady Montfort said nothing. Being of an eager nature, it was rather her
habit to interrupt those who addressed her, especially on matters she
deemed disagreeable. Her husband used to say, "Berengaria is a charming
companion, but if she would only listen a little more, she would have so
much more to tell me." On the present occasion, Endymion had no reason
to complain that he had not a fair opportunity of stating his views
and wishes. She was quite silent, changed colour occasionally, bit her
beautiful lip, and gently but constantly lashed her beautiful riding
habit. When he paused, she inquired if he had done, and he assenting,
she said, "I think the whole thing preposterous. What can Lord
Roehampton have to do before the meeting of parliament? He has not got
to write the Queen's speech. The only use of being in opposition is that
we may enjoy ourselves. The best thing that Lord Roehampton and all his
friends can do is travel for a couple of years. Ask the Count of Ferroll
what he thinks of the situation. He will tell you that he never knew one
more hopeless. Taxes and tariffs--that's the future of England, and,
so far as I can see, it may go on for ever. The government here desires
nothing better than what they call Peace. What they mean by peace is
agiotage, shares at a premium, and bubble companies. The whole thing is
corrupt, as it ever must be when government is in the hands of a mere
middle class, and that, too, a limited one; but it may last hopelessly
long, and in the meantime, 'Vive la bagatelle!'"
"These are very different views from those which, I had understood, were
to guide us in opposition," said Endymion, amazed.
"There is no opposition," rejoined Lady Montfort, somewhat tartly. "For
a real opposition there must be a great policy. If your friend, Lord
Roehampton, when he was settling the Levant, had only seized upon Egypt,
we should have been somewhere. Now, we are the party who wanted to give,
not even cheap bread to the people, but only cheaper bread. Faugh!"
"Well, I do not think the occupation of Egypt in the present state of
our finances"----
"Do not talk to me about 'the present state of our finances.' You are
worse than Mr. Sidney Wilton. The Count of Ferroll says that a ministry
which is upset by its finances must be essentially imbecile. And that,
too, in England--the richest country in the world!"
"Well, I think the state of the finances had something to do with the
French Revolution," observed Endymion quietly.
"The French Revolution! You might as well talk of the fall of the Roman
Empire. The French Revolution was founded on nonsense--on the rights of
man; when all sensible people in every country are now agreed, that man
has no rights whatever."
"But, dearest Lady Montfort," said Endymion, in a somewhat deprecating
tone, "about my returning; for that is the real subject on which I
wished to trouble you."
"You have made up your mind to return," she replied. "What is the use
of consulting me with a foregone conclusion? I suppose you think it a
compliment."
"I should be very sorry to do anything without consulting you," said
Endymion.
"The worst person in the world to consult," said Lady Montfort
impatiently. "If you want advice, you had better go to your sister. Men
who are guided by their sisters seldom make very great mistakes. They
are generally so prudent; and, I must say, I think a prudent man quite
detestable."
Endymion turned pale, his lips quivered. What might have been the winged
words they sent forth it is now impossible to record, for at that moment
the door opened, and the servant announced that her ladyship's horse
was at the door. Lady Montfort jumped up quickly, and saying, "Well, I
suppose I shall see you before you go," disappeared.
CHAPTER LXXV
In the meantime, Lady Roehampton was paying her farewell visit to her
former pupil. They were alone, and Adriana was hanging on her neck and
weeping.
"We were so happy," she murmured.
"And are so happy, and will be," said Myra.
"I feel I shall never be happy again," sighed Adriana.
"You deserve to be the happiest of human beings, and you will be."
"Never, never!"
Lady Roehampton could say no more; she pressed her friend to her heart,
and left the room in silence.
When she arrived at her hotel, her brother was leaving the house. His
countenance was disquieted; he did not greet her with that mantling
sunniness of aspect which was natural to him when they met.
"I have made all my farewells," she said; "and how have you been getting
on?" And she invited him to re-enter the hotel.
"I am ready to depart at this moment," he said somewhat fiercely, "and
was only thinking how I could extricate myself from that horrible dinner
to-day at the Count of Ferroll's."
"Well, that is not difficult," said Myra; "you can write a note here if
you like, at once. I think you must have seen quite enough of the Count
of Ferroll and his friends."
Endymion sat down at the table, and announced his intended
non-appearance at the Count's dinner, for it could not be called an
excuse. When he had finished, his sister said--
"Do you know, we were nearly having a travelling companion to-morrow?"
He looked up with a blush, for he fancied she was alluding to some
previous scheme of Lady Montfort. "Indeed!" he said, "and who?"
"Adriana."
"Adriana!" he repeated, somewhat relieved; "would she leave her family?"
"She had a fancy, and I am sure I do not know any companion I could
prefer to her. She is the only person of whom I could truly say, that
every time I see her, I love her more."
"She seemed to like Paris very much," said Endymion a little
embarrassed.
"The first part of her visit," said Lady Roehampton, "she liked it
amazingly. But my arrival and Lady Montfort's, I fear, broke up their
little parties. You were a great deal with the Neuchatels before we
came?"
"They are such a good family," said Endymion; "so kind, so hospitable,
such true friends. And Mr. Neuchatel himself is one of the shrewdest men
that probably ever lived. I like talking with him, or rather, I like to
hear him talk."
"O Endymion," said Lady Roehampton, "if you were to marry Adriana, my
happiness would be complete."
"Adriana will never marry," said Endymion; "she is afraid of being
married for her money. I know twenty men who would marry her, if they
thought there was a chance of being accepted; and the best man, Eusford,
did make her an offer--that I know. And where could she find a match
more suitable?--high rank, and large estate, and a man that everybody
speaks well of."
"Adriana will never marry except for the affections; there you are
right, Endymion; she must love and she must be loved; but that is not
very unreasonable in a person who is young, pretty, accomplished, and
intelligent."
"She is all that," said Endymion moodily.
"And she loves you," said Lady Roehampton.
Endymion rather started, looked up for a moment at his sister, and then
withdrew as hastily an agitated glance, and then with his eyes on the
ground said, in a voice half murmuring, and yet scoffingly: "I should
like to see Mr. Neuchatel's face were I to ask permission to marry his
daughter. I suppose he would not kick me downstairs; that is out of
fashion; but he certainly would never ask me to dinner again, and that
would be a sacrifice."
"You jest, Endymion; I am not jesting."
"There are some matters that can only be treated as a jest; and my
marriage with Miss Neuchatel is one."
"It would make you one of the most powerful men in England," said his
sister.
"Other impossible events would do the same."
"It is not impossible; it is very possible," said his sister, "believe
me, trust in me. The happiness of their daughter is more precious to the
Neuchatels even than their fortune."
"I do not see why, at my age, I should be in such a hurry to marry,"
said Endymion.
"You cannot marry too soon, if by so doing you obtain the great object
of life. Early marriages are to be deprecated, especially for men,
because they are too frequently imprudent; but when a man can marry
while he is young, and at once realise, by so doing, all the results
which successful time may bring to him, he should not hesitate."
"I hesitate very much," said Endymion. "I should hesitate very much,
even if affairs were as promising as I think you may erroneously
assume."
"But you must not hesitate, Endymion. We must never forget the great
object for which we two live, for which, I believe, we were born
twins--to rebuild our house; to raise it from poverty, and ignominy, and
misery and squalid shame, to the rank and position which we demand, and
which we believe we deserve. Did I hesitate when an offer of marriage
was made to me, and the most unexpected that could have occurred? True
it is, I married the best and greatest of men, but I did not know that
when I accepted his hand. I married him for your sake, I married him
for my own sake, for the sake of the house of Ferrars, which I wished
to release and raise from its pit of desolation. I married him to secure
for us both that opportunity for our qualities which they had lost, and
which I believed, if enjoyed, would render us powerful and great."
Endymion rose from his seat and kissed his sister. "So long as you
live," he said, "we shall never be ignominious."