"Exactly my views," said Mr. Rigby, eagerly; "I say it now, I have said it a thousand times, you may doctor the registration as you like, but you can never get rid of Schedule A."
"Is there a person in this room who can now tell us the names of the boroughs in Schedule A?" said Sidonia.
"I am sure I cannot, "said Lord Monmouth, "though six of them belong to myself."
"But the principle," said Mr. Rigby; "they represented a principle."
"Nothing else, certainly," said Lucian Gay.
"And what principle?" inquired Sidonia.
"The principle of nomination."
"That is a practice, not a principle," said Sidonia. "Is it a practice that no longer exists?"
"You think then," said Lord Eskdale, cutting in before Rigby, "that the Reform Bill has done us no harm?"
"It is not the Reform Bill that has shaken the aristocracy of this country, but the means by which that Bill was carried," replied Sidonia.
"Physical force?" said Lord Eskdale.
"Or social power?" said Sidonia.
Upon this, Mr. Rigby, impatient at any one giving the tone in a political discussion but himself, and chafing under the vigilance of Lord Eskdale, which to him ever appeared only fortuitous, violently a.s.saulted the argument, and astonished several country gentlemen present by its volubility. They at length listened to real eloquence. At the end of a long appeal to Sidonia, that gentleman only bowed his head and said, "Perhaps;" and then, turning to his neighbour, inquired whether birds were plentiful in Lancashire this season; so that Mr. Rigby was reduced to the necessity of forming the political opinions of Mr. Guy Flouncey.
As the gentlemen left the dining-room, Coningsby, though at some distance, was observed by Sidonia, who stopped instantly, then advanced to Coningsby, and extending his hand said, "I said we should meet again, though I hardly expected so quickly."
"And I hope we shall not separate so soon," said Coningsby; "I was much struck with what you said just now about the Reform Bill. Do you know that the more I think the more I am perplexed by what is meant by Representation?"
"It is a principle of which a limited definition is only current in this country," said Sidonia, quitting the room with him. "People may be represented without periodical elections of neighbours who are incapable to maintain their interests, and strangers who are unwilling."
The entrance of the gentlemen produced the same effect on the saloon as sunrise on the world; universal animation, a general though gentle stir.
The Grand-duke, bowing to every one, devoted himself to the daughter of Lady St. Julians, who herself pinned Lord Beaumanoir before he could reach Mrs. Guy Flouncey. Coningsby instead talked nonsense to that lady.
Brilliant cavaliers, including Mr. Melton, addressed a band of beautiful damsels grouped on a large ottoman. Everywhere sounded a delicious murmur, broken occasionally by a silver-sounding laugh not too loud.
Sidonia and Lord Eskdale did not join the ladies. They stood for a few moments in conversation, and then threw themselves on a sofa.
"Who is that?" asked Sidonia of his companion rather earnestly, as Coningsby quitted them.
""Tis the grandson of Monmouth; young Coningsby."
"Ah! The new generation then promises. I met him once before, by chance; he interests me."
"They tell me he is a lively lad. He is a prodigious favourite here, and I should not be surprised if Monmouth made him his heir."
"I hope he does not dream of inheritance," said Sidonia. ""Tis the most enervating of visions."
"Do you admire Lady Augustina St. Julians?" said Mrs. Guy Flouncey to Coningsby.
"I admire no one except yourself."
"Oh! how very gallant, Mr. Coningsby!"
"When should men be gallant, if not to the brilliant and the beautiful!"
said Coningsby.
"Ah! you are laughing at me."
"No, I am not. I am quite grave."
"Your eyes laugh. Now tell me, Mr. Coningsby, Lord Henry Sydney is a very great friend of yours?"
"Very."
"He is very amiable."
"Very."
"He does a great deal for the poor at Beaumanoir. A very fine place, is it not?"
"Very."
"As fine as Coningsby?"
"At present, with Mrs. Guy Flouncey at Coningsby, Beaumanoir would have no chance."
"Ah! you laugh at me again! Now tell me, Mr. Coningsby, what do you think we shall do to-night? I look upon you, you know, as the real arbiter of our destinies."
"You shall decide," said Coningsby.
"Mon cher Harry," said Madame Colonna, coming up, "they wish Lucretia to sing and she will not. You must ask her, she cannot refuse you."
"I a.s.sure you she can," said Coningsby.
"Mon cher Harry, your grandpapa did desire me to beg you to ask her to sing."
So Coningsby unwillingly approached Lucretia, who was talking with the Russian Amba.s.sador.
"I am sent upon a fruitless mission," said Coningsby, looking at her, and catching her glance.
"What and why?" she replied.
"The mission is to entreat you to do us all a great favour; and the cause of its failure will be that I am the envoy."
"If the favour be one to yourself, it is granted; and if you be the envoy, you need never fear failure with me."
"I must presume then to lead you away," said Coningsby, bending to the Amba.s.sador.
"Remember," said Lucretia, as they approached the instrument, "that I am singing to you."