Endymion

"I must go to her myself," said Imogene; "I cannot have the servant attend upon your sister."

Endymion remained silent and confused. Imogene was some little time at the carriage-door, for Lady Roehampton had inquiries to make after Sylvia and other courteous things to say, and then Imogene returned, and said to Endymion, "Lady Roehampton wishes you to go with her directly on some particular business."

CHAPTER XLIX

Endymion liked his new official life very much. Whitehall was a great improvement on Somerset House, and he had sufficient experience of the civil service to duly appreciate the advantage of being permanently quartered in one of the chief departments of the state, instead of obscurely labouring in a subordinate office, with a limited future, and detached from all the keenly interesting details of public life. But it was not this permanent and substantial advantage which occasioned him such lively and such novel pleasure, as the fact of his being a private secretary, and a private secretary to a cabinet minister.

The relations between a minister and his secretary are, or at least should be, among the finest that can subsist between two individuals.

Except the married state, there is none in which so great a degree of confidence is involved, in which more forbearance ought to be exercised, or more sympathy ought to exist. There is usually in the relation an ident.i.ty of interest, and that of the highest kind; and the perpetual difficulties, the alternations of triumph and defeat, develop devotion.

A youthful secretary will naturally feel some degree of enthusiasm for his chief, and a wise minister will never stint his regard for one in whose intelligence and honour he finds he can place confidence.

There never was a happier prospect of these relations being established on the most satisfactory basis than in the instance of Endymion and his new master. Mr. Sidney Wilton was a man of n.o.ble disposition, fine manners, considerable culture, and was generally gracious. But he was disposed to be more than gracious to Endymion, and when he found that our young friend had a capacity for work--that his perception was quick and clear--that he wrote with facility--never made difficulties--was calm, sedulous, and patient, the interest which Mr. Wilton took in him as the son of William Ferrars, and, we must add, as the brother of Lady Roehampton, became absorbed in the personal regard which the minister soon entertained for his secretary. Mr. Wilton found a pleasure in forming the mind of Endymion to the consideration and comprehension of public affairs; he spoke to him both of men and things without reserve; revealed to him the characters of leading personages on both sides, ill.u.s.trated their antecedents, and threw light upon their future; taught him the real condition of parties in parliament, rarely to be found in newspapers; and finally, when he was sufficiently initiated, obtained for his secretary a key for his cabinet boxes, which left little of the business of government unknown to Endymion.

Such great confidence, and that exhibited by one who possessed so many winning qualities, excited in the breast of Endymion the most lively feelings of grat.i.tude and respect. He tried to prove them by the vigilant and unwearying labour with which he served his master, and he served him every day more effectually, because every day he became more intimate with the mind and method of Mr. Wilton. Every one to a certain degree is a mannerist; every one has his ways; and a secretary will be a.s.sisted in the transaction of business if a vigilant observation has made him acquainted with the idiosyncrasy of his chief.

The regulations of the office which authorise a clerk, appointed to a private secretaryship, to deviate from the routine duties of the department, and devote his time entirely to the special requirements of his master, of course much a.s.sisted Endymion, and proved also a pleasant relief, for he had had enough at Somerset House of copying doc.u.ments and drawing up formal reports. But it was not only at Whitehall that he saw Mr. Wilton, and experienced his kindness. Endymion was a frequent guest under Mr. Wilton"s roof, and Mr. Wilton"s establishment was one of the most distinguished in London. They met also much in the evenings, and always at Lady Roehampton"s, where Mr. Wilton was never absent. Whenever and wherever they met, even if they had been working together the whole morning, Mr. Wilton always greeted Endymion with the utmost consideration--because he knew such a recognition would raise Endymion in the eyes of the social herd, who always observe little things, and generally form from them their opinions of great affairs.

CHAPTER L

Mr. Wilton was at Charing Cross, on his way to his office, when a lady saluted him from her carriage, which then drew up to the pavement and stopped.

"We have just arrived," said Lady Montfort, "and I want you to give me a little dinner to-day. My lord is going to dine with an Old Bailey lawyer, who amuses him, and I do not like to be left, the first day, on the _pave_."

"I can give you a rather large dinner, if you care to come," said Mr.

Wilton, "but I fear you will not like it. I have got some House of Commons men dining with me to-day, and one or two of the other House to meet them. My sister Georgina has very good-naturedly promised to come, with her husband, and I have just written a note to the d.u.c.h.ess Dowager of Keswick, who often helps me--but I fear this sort of thing would hardly suit you."

"On the contrary, I think it will be very amusing. Only do not put me between two of your colleagues. Anybody amuses me for once. A new acquaintance is like a new book. I prefer it, even if bad, to a cla.s.sic."

The dinner party to-day at Mr. Wilton"s was miscellaneous, and not heterogeneous enough to produce constraint, only to produce a little excitement--some commoners high in office, and the Treasury whip, several manufacturers who stood together in the room, and some metropolitan members. Georgina"s husband, who was a lord-in-waiting, and a great swell, in a green riband, moved about with adroit condescension, and was bewitchingly affable. The manufacturing members whispered to each other that it was a wise thing to bring the two Houses together, but when Her Grace the d.u.c.h.ess Dowager of Keswick was announced, they exchanged glances of astounded satisfaction, and felt that the government, which had been thought to be in a somewhat rickety condition, would certainly stand.

Berengaria came a little late, not very. She thought it had been earlier, but it was not. The d.u.c.h.ess dowager opened her eyes with wonderment when she beheld Lady Montfort, but the company in general were not in the least aware of the vast social event that was occurring.

They were gratified in seeing another fine lady, but did not, of course, rank her with a d.u.c.h.ess.

The dinner went off better than Mr. Wilton could have hoped, as it was impossible to place a stranger by Lady Montfort. He sate in the middle of his table with the d.u.c.h.ess dowager on his right hand, and Berengaria, who was taken out by the green riband, on the other. As he knew the green riband would be soon exhausted, he devoted himself to Lady Montfort, and left the d.u.c.h.ess to her own resources, which were considerable, and she was soon laying down her opinions on men and things to her other neighbours with much effect. The manufacturers talked shop to each other in whispers, that is to say, mixed House of Commons tattle about bills and committees with news from Manchester and Liverpool, and the West Riding. The metropolitan members, then a more cosmopolitan body and highly miscellaneous in their character and pursuits, were louder, and perhaps more easy, even ventured to talk across the table when near its end, and enticed the peers into discussions on foreign politics.

Mr. Sidney Wilton having been delightful, thought it necessary to observe that he feared Lady Montfort had been bored. "I have been, and am, extremely amused," she replied; "and now tell me, who is that young man at the very end of the table?"

"That is my private secretary, Mr. Ferrars."

"Ferrars!"

"A brother of Lady Roehampton."

"Present him to me after dinner."

Endymion knew Lady Montfort by sight, though she did not know him. He had seen her more than once at the receptions of Mrs. Neuchatel, where, as indeed in every place, she was the cynosure. He was much astonished at meeting her at this party to-day,--almost as surprised as the d.u.c.h.ess dowager, for Endymion, who was of an observant nature, was beginning to comprehend society and all its numerous elements, and schools, and shades, and cla.s.ses. When they entered the saloon, Mr. Wilton led Endymion up to Lady Montfort at once, and she immediately inquired after his sister. "Do you think," she said, "Lady Roehampton would see me to-morrow if I called on her?"

"If I were Lady Roehampton, I would," said Endymion.

Lady Montfort looked at him with a glance of curious scrutiny; not smiling, and yet not displeased. "I will write her a little note in the morning," said Lady Montfort thoughtfully. "One may leave cards for ever. Mr. Wilton tells me you are quite his right hand."

"Mr. Wilton is too kind to me," said Endymion. "One could not be excused for not doing one"s best for such a master."

"You like people to be kind to you?" said Lady Montfort.

"Well, I have not met with so much kindness in this world as to become insensible to it."

"You are too young to be melancholy," said Lady Montfort; "are you older than Lady Roehampton?"

"We are twins."

"Twins! and wonderfully like too! Is it not thought so?"

"I have sometimes heard it mentioned."

"Oh, it is striking!" said Lady Montfort, and she motioned to him to sit down by her; and then she began to talk politics, and asked him what the members thought at dinner of the prospects of the government, and what he had heard of the malcontent movement that they said was _in petto_.

Endymion replied that Mr. Sharpset, the Secretary of the Treasury, did not think much of it.

"Well, I wish I did not," said Lady Montfort. "However, I will soon find out something about it. I have only just come to town; but I intend to open my house, immediately. Now I must go. What are you going to do with yourself to-morrow? I wish you would come and dine with Lord Montfort.

It will be quite without form, a few agreeable and amusing people; Lord Montfort must be amused. It seems a reasonable fancy, but very difficult to realise; and now you shall ask for my carriage, and to-morrow I hope to be able to tell Lady Roehampton what very great pleasure I have had in making the acquaintance of her brother."

CHAPTER LI

The morning after, Endymion was emerging from the court-yard of the Albany, in order to call on Mr. Rodney, who, as he learnt from a casual remark in a letter from Waldershare, would be in town. The ladies were left behind for the last week of hunting, but business called Mr. Rodney home. Waldershare wrote to Endymion in the highest spirits, and more than once declared that he was the happiest of men. Just as Endymion had entered Piccadilly, he was stopped by a once familiar face; it was St.

Barbe, who accosted him with great warmth, and as usual began to talk about himself. "You are surprised to see me," he said. "It is two years since we met. Well, I have done wonders; carried all before me. By Jove, sir, I can walk into a minister"s private room with as much ease as I were entering the old den. The amba.s.sadors are hand and glove with me.

There are very few things I do not know. I have made the fortune of the "Chuck-Farthing," trebled its circulation, and invented a new style, which has put me at the head of all "our own correspondents." I wish you were at Paris; I would give you a dinner at the Rocher, which would make up for all our dinners at that ferocious ruffian, Joe"s. I gave a dinner the other day to forty of them, all "our own correspondents," or such like. Do you know, my dear fellow, when I looked round the room, there was not a man who had not done his best to crush me; running down my works or not noticing them, or continually dilating on Gushy as if the English public would never read anything else. Now, that was Christian-like of me, was not it? G.o.d, sir, if they only had but one neck, and I had been the Emperor Nero--but, I will not dwell on it; I hate them. However, it suits me to take the other line at present. I am all for fraternity and that sort of thing, and give them dinners. There is a reason why, but there is no time to talk about that now. I shall want their sweet voices--the hounds! But, my dear fellow, I am truly glad to see you. Do you know, I always liked you; and how come you to be in this quarter this fine morning?"

"I live in the Albany," said Endymion.

"You live in the Albany!" repeated St. Barbe, with an amazed and perturbed expression. "I knew I could not be a knight of the garter, or a member of White"s--the only two things an Englishman cannot command; but I did think I might some day live in the Albany. It was my dream.

And you live there! Gracious! what an unfortunate fellow I am! I do not see how you can live in the Albany with your salary; I suppose they have raised you."

"I have left Somerset House," said Endymion, "and am now at the Board of Trade, and am private secretary to Mr. Sidney Wilton."

"Oh!" said St. Barbe; "then we have friends at court. You may do something for me, if I only knew what I wanted. They have no decorations here. Curse this aristocratic country, they want all the honours to themselves. I should like to be in the Board of Trade, and would make some sacrifice for it. The proprietors of the "Chuck-Farthing" pay well; they pay like gentlemen; though, why I say so I do not exactly know, for no gentleman ever paid me anything. But, if I could be Secretary of the Board of Trade, or get 1500 pounds a year secure, I would take it; and I dare say I could get employed on some treaties, as I speak French, and then I might get knighted."

"Well, I think you are very well off," said Endymion; "carrying, as you say, everything before you. What more can you want?"

"I hate the craft," said St. Barbe, with an expression of genuine detestation; "I should like to show them all up before I died. I suppose it was your sister marrying a lord that got you on in this way. I could have married a countess myself, but then, to be sure, she was only a Polish one, and hard up. I never had a sister; I never had any luck in life at all. I wish I had been a woman. Women are the only people who get on. A man works all his life, and thinks he has done a wonderful thing if, with one leg in the grave and no hair on his head, he manages to get a coronet; and a woman dances at a ball with some young fellow or other, or sits next to some old fellow at dinner and pretends she thinks him charming, and he makes her a peeress on the spot. Oh! it is a disgusting world; it must end in revolution. Now you tell your master, Mr. Sidney Wilton, that if he wants to strengthen the inst.i.tutions of this country, the government should establish an order of merit, and the press ought to be represented in it. I do not speak only for myself; I speak for my brethren. Yes, sir, I am not ashamed of my order."

And so they bade each other farewell.

"Unchanged," thought Endymion, as he crossed Piccadilly; "the vainest, the most envious, and the most amusing of men! I wonder what he will do in life."