"Tell your secret, Adriana," said Miss Ferrars, trying to force her to converse.
"Adriana!" said the gentleman. "What a beautiful name! You look with that flower, Miss Neuchatel, like a bride of Venice."
"Nay," said Myra; "the bride of Venice was a stormy ocean."
"And have you a Venetian name?" asked the gentleman.
There was a pause, and then Miss Neuchatel, with an effort, murmured, "She has a very pretty name. Her name is Myra."
"She seems to deserve it," said the gentleman.
"So you like my daughter"s singing," said Mr. Neuchatel, coming up to them. "She does not much like singing in public, but she is a very good girl, and always gives me a song when I come home from business."
"Fortunate man!" said the gentleman. "I wish somebody would sing to me when I come home from business."
"You should marry, my lord," said Mr. Neuchatel, "and get your wife to sing to you. Is it not so, Miss Ferrars? By the by, I ought to introduce you to--Lord Roehampton."
CHAPTER x.x.xIX
The Earl of Roehampton was the strongest member of the government, except, of course, the premier himself. He was the man from whose combined force and flexibility of character the country had confidence that in all their councils there would be no lack of courage, yet tempered with adroit discretion. Lord Roehampton, though an Englishman, was an Irish peer, and was resolved to remain so, for he fully appreciated the position, which united social distinction with the power of a seat in the House of Commons. He was a very ambitious, and, as it was thought, worldly man, deemed even by many to be unscrupulous, and yet he was romantic. A great favourite in society, and especially with the softer s.e.x, somewhat late in life, he had married suddenly a beautiful woman, who was without fortune, and not a member of the enchanted circle in which he flourished. The union had been successful, for Lord Roehampton was gifted with a sweet temper, and, though people said he had no heart, with a winning tenderness of disposition, or at least of manner, which at the same time charmed and soothed. He had been a widower for two years, and the world was of opinion that he ought to marry again, and form this time a becoming alliance. In addition to his many recommendations he had now the inestimable reputation, which no one had ever contemplated for him, of having been a good husband.
Berengaria, Countess of Montfort, was a great friend of Lord Roehampton.
She was accustomed to describe herself as "the last of his conquests,"
and though Lord Roehampton read characters and purposes with a glance, and was too sagacious to be deceived by any one, even by himself, his gratified taste, for he scarcely had vanity, cherished the bright illusion of which he was conscious, and he responded to Lady Montfort half sportively, half seriously, with an air of flattered devotion. Lord Roehampton had inherited an ample estate, and he had generally been in office; for he served his apprenticeship under Perceval and Liverpool, and changed his party just in time to become a member of the Cabinet of 1831. Yet with all these advantages, whether it were the habit of his life, which was ever profuse, or that neglect of his private interests which almost inevitably accompanies the absorbing duties of public life, his affairs were always somewhat confused, and Lady Montfort, who wished to place him on a pinnacle, had resolved that he should marry an heiress. After long observation and careful inquiry and prolonged reflection, the lady she had fixed upon was Miss Neuchatel; and she it was who had made Lord Roehampton cross the room and address Adriana after her song.
"He is not young," reasoned Lady Montfort to herself, "but his mind and manner are young, and that is everything. I am sure I meet youth every day who, compared with Lord Roehampton, could have no chance with my s.e.x--men who can neither feel, nor think, nor converse. And then he is famous, and powerful, and fashionable, and knows how to talk to women.
And this must all tell with a banker"s daughter, dying, of course, to be a _grande dame_. It will do. He may not be young, but he is irresistible. And the father will like it, for he told me in confidence, at dinner, that he wished Lord Roehampton to be prime minister; and with this alliance he will be."
The plot being devised by a fertile brain never wanting in expedients, its development was skilfully managed, and its accomplishment antic.i.p.ated with confidence. It was remarkable with what dexterity the Neuchatel family and Lord Roehampton were brought together. Berengaria"s lord and master was in the country, which he said he would not quit; but this did not prevent her giving delightful little dinners and holding select a.s.semblies on nights when there was no dreadful House of Commons, and Lord Roehampton could be present. On most occasions, and especially on these latter ones, Lady Montfort could not endure existence without her dear Adriana. Mr. Neuchatel, who was a little in the plot, who at least smiled when Berengaria alluded to her enterprise, was not wanting in his contributions to its success. He hardly ever gave one of his famous banquets to which Lord Roehampton was not invited, and, strange to say, Lord Roehampton, who had the reputation of being somewhat difficult on this head, always accepted the invitations. The crowning social incident, however, was when Lord Roehampton opened his own house for the first time since his widowhood, and received the Neuchatels at a banquet not inferior to their own. This was a great triumph for Lady Montfort, who thought the end was at hand.
"Life is short," she said to Lord Roehampton that evening. "Why not settle it to-night?"
"Well," said Lord Roehampton, "you know I never like anything precipitate. Besides, why should the citadel surrender when I have hardly entered on my first parallel?"
"Ah! those are old-fashioned tactics," said Lady Montfort.
"Well, I suppose I am an old-fashioned man."
"Be serious, now. I want it settled before Easter. I must go down to my lord then, and even before; and I should like to see this settled before we separate."
"Why does not Montfort come up to town?" said Lord Roehampton. "He is wanted."
"Well," said Lady Montfort, with half a sigh, "it is no use talking about it. He will not come. Our society bores him, and he must be amused. I write to him every day, and sometimes twice a day, and pa.s.s my life in collecting things to interest him. I would never leave him for a moment, only I know then that he would get wearied of me; and he thinks now--at least, he once said so--that he has never had a dull moment in my company."
"How can he find amus.e.m.e.nt in the country?" said Lord Roehampton. "There is no sport now, and a man cannot always be reading French novels."
"Well, I send amusing people down to him," said Berengaria. "It is difficult to arrange, for he does not like toadies, which is so unreasonable, for I know many toadies who are very pleasant. Treeby is with him now, and that is excellent, for Treeby contradicts him, and is scientific as well as fashionable, and gives him the last news of the Sun as well as of White"s. I want to get this great African traveller to go down to him; but one can hardly send a perfect stranger as a guest.
I wanted Treeby to take him, but Treeby refused--men are so selfish.
Treeby could have left him there, and the traveller might have remained a week, told all he had seen, and as much more as he liked. My lord cannot stand Treeby more than two days, and Treeby cannot stand my lord for a longer period, and that is why they are such friends."
"A sound basis of agreement," said Lord Roehampton. "I believe absence is often a great element of charm."
"But, _a nos moutons_," resumed Lady Montfort. "You see now why I am so anxious for a conclusion of our affair. I think it is ripe?"
"Why do you?" said Lord Roehampton.
"Well, she must be very much in love with you."
"Has she told you so?"
"No; but she looks in love."
"She has never told me so," said Lord Roehampton.
"Have you told her?"
"Well, I have not," said her companion. "I like the family--all of them.
I like Neuchatel particularly. I like his house and style of living.
You always meet nice people there, and bear the last thing that has been said or done all over the world. It is a house where you are sure not to be dull."
"You have described a perfect home," said Lady Montfort, "and it awaits you."
"Well, I do not know," said Lord Roehampton. "Perhaps I am fastidious, perhaps I am content; to be noticed sometimes by a Lady Montfort should, I think, satisfy any man."
"Well, that is gallant, but it is not business, my dear lord. You can count on my devotion even when you are married; but I want to see you on a pinnacle, so that if anything happens there shall be no question who is to be the first man in this country."
CHAPTER XL
The meeting of parliament caused also the return of Waldershare to England, and brought life and enjoyment to our friends in Warwick Street. Waldershare had not taken his seat in the autumn session. After the general election, he had gone abroad with Lord Beaumaris, the young n.o.bleman who had taken them to the Derby, and they had seen and done many strange things. During all their peregrinations, however, Waldershare maintained a constant correspondence with Imogene, occasionally sending her a choice volume, which she was not only to read, but to prove her perusal of it by forwarding to him a criticism of its contents.
Endymion was too much pleased to meet Waldershare again, and told him of the kind of intimacy he had formed with Colonel Albert and all about the baron. Waldershare was much interested in these details, and it was arranged that an opportunity should be taken to make the colonel and Waldershare acquainted.
This, however, was not an easy result to bring about, for Waldershare insisted on its not occurring formally, and as the colonel maintained the utmost reserve with the household, and Endymion had no room of reception, weeks pa.s.sed over without Waldershare knowing more of Colonel Albert personally than sometimes occasionally seeing him mount his horse.
In the meantime life in Warwick Street, so far as the Rodney family were concerned, appeared to have re-a.s.sumed its pleasant, and what perhaps we are authorised in styling its normal condition. They went to the play two or three times a week, and there Waldershare or Lord Beaumaris, frequently both, always joined them; and then they came home to supper, and then they smoked; and sometimes there was a little singing, and sometimes a little whist. Occasionally there was only conversation, that is to say, Waldershare held forth, dilating on some wondrous theme, full of historical anecdote, and dazzling paradox, and happy phrase. All listened with interest, even those who did not understand him. Much of his talk was addressed really to Beaumaris, whose mind he was forming, as well as that of Imogene. Beaumaris was an hereditary Whig, but had not personally committed himself, and the ambition of Waldershare was to transform him not only into a Tory, but one of the old rock, a real Jacobite. "Is not the Tory party," Waldershare would exclaim, "a succession of heroic spirits, "beautiful and swift," ever in the van, and foremost of their age?--Hobbes and Bolingbroke, Hume and Adam Smith, Wyndham and Cobham, Pitt and Grenville, Canning and Huskisson?--Are not the principles of Toryism those popular rights which men like Shippen and Hynde Cotton flung in the face of an alien monarch and his mushroom aristocracy?--Place bills, triennial bills, opposition to standing armies, to peerage bills?--Are not the traditions of the Tory party the n.o.blest pedigree in the world? Are not its ill.u.s.trations that glorious martyrology, that opens with the name of Falkland and closes with the name of Canning?"
"I believe it is all true," whispered Lord Beaumaris to Sylvia, who had really never heard of any of these gentlemen before, but looked most sweet and sympathetic.
"He is a wonderful man--Mr. Waldershare," said Mr. Vigo to Rodney, "but I fear not practical."
One day, not very long after his return from his travels, Waldershare went to breakfast with his uncle, Mr. Sidney Wilton, now a cabinet minister, still unmarried, and living in Grosvenor Square.
Notwithstanding the difference of their politics, an affectionate intimacy subsisted between them; indeed Waldershare was a favourite of his uncle, who enjoyed the freshness of his mind, and quite appreciated his brilliancy of thought and speech, his quaint reading and effervescent imagination.
"And so you think we are in for life, George," said Mr. Wilson, taking a piece of toast. "I do not."