Endymion, Benjamin Disraeli [good short books TXT] 📗

had been a matter of much mystery during the last two years. Rumours of his having been received into the Roman Church had been often rife; sometimes flatly, and in time faintly, contradicted. Now the facts seemed admitted, and it would appear that he was about to return to England not only as a Roman Catholic, but as a distinguished priest of the Church, and, it was said, even the representative of the Papacy.

All the guests rose at the same time--a pleasant habit--and went upstairs to the brilliantly lighted saloons. Lord Roehampton seated himself by Baron Sergius, with whom he was always glad to converse. "We seem here quiet and content?" said the ex-minister inquiringly.

"I hope so, and I think so," said Sergius. "He believes in his star, and will leave everything to its influence. There are to be no more adventures."

"It must be a great relief to Lord Roehampton to have got quit of office," said Mrs. Neuchatel to Lady Roehampton. "I always pitied him so much. I never can understand why people voluntarily incur such labours and anxiety."

"You should join us," said Mr. Neuchatel to Waldershare. "They would be very glad to see you at Brooks'."

"Brooks' may join the October Club which I am going to revive," said Waldershare.

"I never heard of that club," said Mr. Neuchatel.

"It was a much more important thing than the Bill of Rights or the Act of Settlement," said Waldershare, "all the same."

"I want to see his mother's portrait in the farther saloon," said Lady Montfort to Myra.

"Let us go together." And Lady Roehampton rose, and they went.

It was a portrait of Queen Agrippina by a master hand, and admirably illumined by reflected light, so that it seemed to live.

"She must have been very beautiful," said Lady Montfort.

"Mr. Sidney Wilton was devotedly attached to her, my lord has told me," said Lady Roehampton.

"So many were devotedly attached to her," said Lady Montfort.

"Yes; she was like Mary of Scotland, whom some men are in love with even to this day. Her spell was irresistible. There are no such women now."

"Yes; there is one," said Lady Montfort, suddenly turning round and embracing Lady Roehampton; "and I know she hates me, because she thinks I prevent her brother from marrying."

"Dear Lady Montfort, how can you use such strong expressions? I am sure there can be only one feeling of Endymion's friends to you, and that is gratitude for your kindness to him."

"I have done nothing for him; I can do nothing for him. I felt that when we were trying to get him into parliament. If he could marry, and be independent, and powerful, and rich, it would be better, perhaps, for all of us."

"I wish he were independent, and powerful, and rich," said Myra musingly. "That would be a fairy tale. At present, he must be content that he has some of the kindest friends in the world."

"He interests me very much; no one so much. I am sincerely, even deeply attached to him; but it is like your love, it is a sister's love. There is only one person I really love in the world, and alas! he does not love me!" And her voice was tremulous.

"Do not say such things, dear Lady Montfort. I never can believe what you sometimes intimate on that subject. Do you know, I think it a little hallucination."

Lady Montfort shook her head with a truly mournful expression, and then suddenly, her beautiful face wreathed with smiles, she said in a gay voice, "We will not think of such sorrows. I wish them to be entombed in my heart, but the spectres will rise sometimes. Now about your brother. I do not mean to say that it would not be a great loss to me if he married, but I wish him to marry if you do. For myself, I must have a male friend, and he must be very clever, and thoroughly understand politics. You know you deprived me of Lord Roehampton," she continued smilingly, "who was everything I could desire; and the Count of Ferroll would have suited me excellently, but then he ran away. Now Endymion could not easily run away, and he is so agreeable and so intelligent, that at last I thought I had found a companion worth helping--and I meant, and still mean, to work hard--until he is prime minister."

"I have my dreams too about that," said Lady Roehampton, "but we are all about the same age, and can wait a little."

"He cannot be minister too soon," said Lady Montfort. "It was not being minister soon that ruined Charles Fox."

The party broke up. The prince made a sign to Waldershare, which meant a confidential cigar, and in a few minutes they were alone together.

"What women!" exclaimed the prince. "Not to be rivalled in this city, and yet quite unlike each other."

"And which do you admire most, sir?" said Waldershare.

The prince trimmed his cigar, and then he said, "I will tell you this day five years."


CHAPTER LXXXI

The ecclesiastical incident mentioned at the dinner described in our last chapter, produced a considerable effect in what is called society. Nigel Penruddock had obtained great celebrity as a preacher, while his extreme doctrines and practices had alike amazed, fascinated, and alarmed a large portion of the public. For some time he had withdrawn from the popular gaze, but his individuality was too strong to be easily forgotten, even if occasional paragraphs as to his views and conduct, published, contradicted, and reiterated, were not sufficient to sustain, and even stimulate, curiosity. That he was about to return to his native land, as the Legate of His Holiness, was an event which made many men look grave, and some female hearts flutter.

The memory of Lady Roehampton could not escape from the past, and she could not recall it and all the scenes at Hurstley without emotion; and Lady Montfort remembered with some pride and excitement, that the Legate of the Pope had been one of her heroes. It was evident that he had no wish to avoid his old acquaintances, for shortly after his arrival, and after he had assembled his suffragans, and instructed the clergy of his district, for dioceses did not then exist, Archbishop Penruddock, for so the Metropolitan of Tyre simply styled himself, called upon both these ladies.

His first visit was to Myra, and notwithstanding her disciplined self-control, her intense pride, and the deep and daring spirit which always secretly sustained her, she was nervous and agitated, but only in her boudoir. When she entered the saloon to welcome him, she seemed as calm as if she were going to an evening assembly.

Nigel was changed. Instead of that anxious and moody look which formerly marred the refined beauty of his countenance, his glance was calm and yet radiant. He was thinner, it might almost be said emaciated, which seemed to add height to his tall figure.

Lady Roehampton need not have been nervous about the interview, and the pain of its inevitable associations. Except one allusion at the end of his visit, when his Grace mentioned some petty grievance, of which he wished to relieve his clergy, and said, "I think I will consult your brother; being in the opposition, he will be less embarrassed than some of my friends in the government, or their supporters," he never referred to the past. All he spoke of was the magnitude of his task, the immense but inspiring labours which awaited him, and his deep sense of his responsibility. Nothing but the Divine principle of the Church could sustain him. He was at one time hopeful that His Holiness might have thought the time ripe for the restoration of the national hierarchy, but it was decreed otherwise. Had it been accorded, no doubt it would have assisted him. A prelate _in partibus_ is, in a certain sense, a stranger, whatever his duties, and the world is more willing when it is appealed to by one who has "a local habitation and a name;" he is identified with the people among whom he lives. There was much to do. The state of the Catholic poor in his own district was heartrending. He never could have conceived such misery, and that too under the shadow of the Abbey. The few schools which existed were wretched, and his first attention must be given to this capital deficiency. He trusted much to female aid. He meant to invite the great Catholic ladies to unite with him in a common labour of love. In this great centre of civilisation, and wealth, and power, there was need of the spirit of a St. Ursula.

No one seemed more pleased by the return of Archbishop Penruddock than Lord Montfort. He appeared to be so deeply interested in his Grace's mission, sought his society so often, treated him with such profound respect, almost ceremony, asked so many questions about what was happening at Rome, and what was going to be done here--that Nigel might have been pardoned if he did not despair of ultimately inducing Lord Montfort to return to the faith of his illustrious ancestors. And yet, all this time, Lord Montfort was only amusing himself; a new character was to him a new toy, and when he could not find one, he would dip into the "Memoirs of St. Simon."

Instead of avoiding society, as was his wont in the old days, the Archbishop sought it. And there was nothing exclusive in his social habits; all classes and all creeds, all conditions and orders of men, were alike interesting to him; they were part of the mighty community, with all whose pursuits, and passions, and interests, and occupations he seemed to sympathise, but respecting which he had only one object--to bring them back once more to that imperial fold from which, in an hour of darkness and distraction, they had miserably wandered. The conversion of England was deeply engraven on the heart of Penruddock; it was his constant purpose, and his daily and nightly prayer.

So the Archbishop was seen everywhere, even at fashionable assemblies. He was a frequent guest at banquets which he never tasted, for he was a smiling ascetic, and though he seemed to be preaching or celebrating high mass in every part of the metropolis, organising schools, establishing convents, and building cathedrals, he could find time to move philanthropic resolutions at middle-class meetings, attend learned associations, and even occasionally send a paper to the Royal Society.

The person who fell most under the influence of the archbishop was Waldershare. He was fairly captivated by him. Nothing would satisfy Waldershare till he had brought the archbishop and Prince Florestan together. "You are a Roman Catholic prince, sir," he would say. "It is absolute folly to forego such a source of influence and power as the Roman Catholic Church. Here is your man; a man made for the occasion, a man who may be pope. Come to an understanding with him, and I believe you will regain your throne in a year."

"But, my dear Waldershare, it is very true I am a Roman Catholic, but I am also the head of the Liberal party in my country, and perhaps also on the continent of Europe, and they are not particularly affected to archbishops and popes."

"Old-fashioned twaddle of the Liberal party," exclaimed Waldershare. "There is more true democracy in the Roman Catholic Church than in all the secret societies of Europe."

"There is something in that," said the prince musingly, "and my friends are Roman Catholics, nominally Roman