CUTHBERT ST. ELME, M.P. 
 
 OR, 
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 A POLITICIAN. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HURST & BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN, 
 
 13, GEEAT MAELBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1857. 
 
 [The right of Translation it reserved.]
 
 DEDICATED 
 
 TO 
 
 MY WIFE.
 
 CUTHBERT ST. ELME, M.P. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MY TUTOR'S. 
 
 IN the midst of a somewhat dreary 
 moor stood the educational establishment 
 owning the sway of the Reverend Edgar 
 Burton. 
 
 It was an old Elizabethan house, the 
 principal portion whereof was occupied by 
 the person and family of the Reverend 
 Edgar. Two wings were devoted to his 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
 2208327
 
 2 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 servants, and to the select few his dis- 
 ciples. These consisted of two depart- 
 ments, limited in number, and chiefly 
 belonging to the higher classes of society. 
 The senior division was composed of 
 young men of family about to enter 
 the university or the army. The junior, 
 as its name implies, was confined to 
 younger scions. All however shared 
 equally the advantages of Mr. Burton's 
 system, and the concomitant luxuries. 
 
 That worthy gentleman, duly sensible 
 of the influence possessed by the rising 
 generation, was in nowise parsimonious 
 of the resources lavishly bestowed on 
 him by their parents. Weil he knew to 
 welcome the coming as to speed the part- 
 ing landed proprietors. For the latter, 
 polished English carried flattering reports 
 to the ears of a delighted parent. For 
 the former, easy knowledge, much amuse-
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 3 
 
 merit, and good living, stored up pleasant 
 reminiscences of a not too arduous aca- 
 demia, derived, Mr. Burton said,* from 
 the words ekas and demos, apart from the 
 people. 
 
 B 2
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE UNIVERSAL GUEST. 
 
 ONE dark November evening three 
 youths were seated at a table in one of 
 the rooms, which, under the denomination 
 of study, was surrendered to the absolute 
 sovereignty of the young aristocrat by 
 whom it was for the moment occupied. 
 
 The three were special friends, and 
 together formed no inconsiderable portion 
 of the senior class. 
 
 The first was named Cuthbert St. Elme.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 5 
 
 He was the distant relative of a proud 
 peer, who, from having utterly disowned 
 the orphan of a mesalliance, now, though 
 refusing to receive him, coldly gave the boy 
 a munificent education. The second was 
 Sir Hugh Dawnay, a young baronet, still 
 in mourning for the death of his father. 
 The third was Edward Lord Donovan, 
 the eldest son of an opulent Irish earl, 
 
 whose family, descended doubtless from a 
 
 i 
 long line of ancestors, had emerged, only 
 
 a short time before the Union, from the 
 elegant retirement of a draper's shop. 
 
 The three were gathered round a table 
 covered with books, classics, lexicons, and 
 translations. The end of the. term was 
 not far distant when Burton, M.A., sub- 
 jected his flock to an imaginary examin- 
 ation. The trio had worked harder than 
 was their wont. They loved the poets, 
 and poetic study was no ungracious task.
 
 6 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 But they had exceeded their daily mea- 
 sure; and having thus well earned their 
 repose, they had begun to relax in their 
 efforts and to resign themselves to the 
 charms of conversation. 
 
 The conversation turned on art. Bur- 
 ton, M.A., encouraged the purchase of 
 statuettes and engravings from the neigh- 
 bouring town. 
 
 There is nothing like wealth to make 
 young men pedantic. Donovan was vaunt- 
 ing the merits of Salvator Rosa. St. Elme 
 was quietly putting in a word for Guido. 
 While Dawnay roughly recounted the ex- 
 ploits of Benvenuto Cellini; and with a 
 sense of superiority ventilated his personal 
 experiences of the Tribune, the Quirinal, 
 and the Vatican. 
 
 Suddenly their conversation came to a 
 stop, as their attention was called to the 
 crackling of a carriage on the gravel. 

 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 7 
 
 " Has Burton been to a tea-party?" 
 asked Dawnay. 
 
 "No; I saw him half-an-hour ago at 
 his window," answered Donovan. 
 
 St. Elme was silent. His life, the many 
 disappointments of his youth, caused him 
 instinctively to dread all unexpected oc- 
 currences. 
 
 Steps were heard along the passage. 
 The door opened, and the tutor appearing, 
 gravely beckoned Donovan to follow him. 
 
 The remaining two kept silent. Evil 
 news had entered the 'room. Of its na- 
 ture they were as yet in ignorance; but 
 the atmosphere was mournful. 
 
 A few moments elapsed, when the tutor 
 returned to close the door. 
 
 " His father is dead," he said in a sub- 
 dued voice. 
 
 At sad moments the ludicrous is most 
 glaring. The two youths, though deeply
 
 8 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 concerned, could scarcely restrain a smile 
 at the factitious grief of their Gamaliel. 
 
 "Poor Edward !" exclaimed St. Elme, 
 tearfully; " Poor Edward !" 
 
 " Poor Donovan !" responded Sir Hugh 
 DaTvnay. " But I dare say he'll soon learn 
 to console himself with his earldom." 
 
 St. Elrne looked reproachfully at his 
 comrade. The words jarred on his feel- 
 ings. Never as yet had Dawnay ex- 
 hibited so much frivolity. St. Elme had 
 learnt to feel. Experience had taught 
 him to picture retrospect uncheered by 
 prospect. He had known familiar voices 
 that could never more be heard. He had 
 seen kindly smiles, lips speaking kindly 
 words lost for ever. " Never again 1 
 For ever!" He thought he heard such 
 words lowly sounding in the cold court- 
 yard beneath. 
 
 "Had we not better go to him?"
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 9 
 
 suggested St. Elme. " He will not feel so 
 unhappy perhaps." 
 
 "Go, if you think right. I do not 
 know if he would like to be alone or not. 
 Go yourself, and if he would wish to see 
 me, I will follow directly."
 
 10 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BROTHERHOOD. 
 
 " DEAR EDWARD," said St. Elme, find- 
 ing his friend as he expected in the court- 
 yard." Dear Edward." He placed his 
 arm upon the mourner's shoulder, as he 
 leant against a wall. Words come not 
 freely at such moments. 
 
 But there was no need for words. 
 Edward felt the sympathy, and was 
 thankful.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. ll 
 
 "Where is Dawnay?" he asked, half 
 in reproach, 
 
 " He feared you would not like his 
 coming. Shall I call him ?" 
 
 " No !" answered proudly the Irish 
 boy. "I ask no one to share my grief; 
 but when kindness is offered, I arn 
 grateful." 
 
 " Dear Edward, 5 ' murmured St. Elme. 
 The two again grasped each other's hands 
 in friendship. 
 
 " Cuddle ! I must go at once to-night. 
 My poor mother says that the agent 
 has written to Burton. He will give 
 me money to post, and allow me to go 
 immediately. Will you pack up my 
 clothes while I go and speak to him ?" 
 
 " I shall go with you, Edward," an- 
 swered St. Elme with a sudden resolution. 
 
 " How I should like it, Cuddie ; but 
 Burton would not allow you."
 
 12 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " I shall ask him, and if he won't 
 let me, I shall be able to manage somehow." 
 
 "For Heaven's sake do not get into 
 a scrape on my account," eagerly inter- 
 rupted Donovan. " Your coming would 
 make me very happy ; but I would not 
 have you risk anything for me." Donovan 
 knew that an escapade might prove fatal 
 to his friend's prospects. 
 
 A servant announced Donovan to the 
 tutor's presence. 
 
 " Hadn't I better start immediately, 
 sir ? My mother sends me word not to 
 lose a moment; and my sister says 
 that nothing can equal her distress and 
 misery." 
 
 The poor boy's voice trembled, and his 
 eyes glistened as he thus interrupted a 
 long harangue, the like of which he had, 
 heard not very long before administered 
 to Dawnay.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 13 
 
 "The messenger is obliged to go to 
 London. Do you think yourself up to 
 posting alone, or shall I send some one 
 with you ?" asked the tutor. 
 
 " Oh ! alone, sir," answered the boy, 
 nettled even in his grief at the doubt en- 
 tertained as to his power of self govern- 
 ment. 
 
 The chaise was still at the door; and 
 Mr. Burton giving the boy a large sum of 
 money for his journey, took a pompous 
 farewell.
 
 14 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 - YL 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A SHELL. 
 
 MR. BURTON had scarce settled himself 
 before the fire, to ruminate at the point of 
 dignity whence he had been interrupted, 
 when a knock preceded the entrance 
 of St. Elme. 
 
 " Mr. Burton," he began, " I wish to 
 be allowed to go home with Donovan." 
 
 " You wish, Mr. St. Elme, you wish to 
 be allowed to accompany the Earl of 
 Beaconsfield to his paternal mansion."
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 15 
 
 "Exactly so, sir." 
 
 " Good night, St. Elrne," continued the 
 tutor blandly, but with compassion. " We 
 will talk over it to-morrow. 5 ' 
 
 " But he is going to night, sir at 
 
 once." 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! goodnight, St. Eline. It 
 is time, I think, to retire to rest." 
 
 The request appeared so preposterous 
 that the tutor considered it attributable 
 to the effect of strong excitement on a 
 nervous temperament. 
 
 " But, sir, I really want to go," urged 
 the lad. " I am in earnest. Donovan is 
 a relative of mine. He is younger than I 
 am. I cannot bear the idea of his taking 
 that long journey alone." 
 
 The tutor found it difficult to deny. 
 Therefore, lighting his candle, he left the 
 room through another door, nodding a 
 friendly good night to his deluded pupil.
 
 16 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 *' Edward," exclaimed the latter to his 
 friend, who was waiting in the hall, 
 " Burton will give me no answer. I shall 
 go without one." 
 
 " Don't be rash I will go and speak to 
 him myself." 
 
 The young earl found his tutor in deep 
 conversation with Mrs. Burton as to the 
 strange request of young St. Elme. He 
 was a great favourite with the family. 
 Hitherto they had found him docile and 
 unpretending, yielding without a murmur 
 his room or his furniture to a distinguished 
 scholar or guest, ready to drink tea or to 
 sing with Miss Burton, not insensible to 
 Mrs. Burton's water colours, admiring Mr. 
 Burton's poetry and not entirely averse to 
 his sermons. 
 
 Lord Beaconsfield's entry created some 
 commotion, not allayed by the repetition 
 of his friend's request. Burton explained
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 17 
 
 St. Elme's position. His relative's patron- 
 age and haughtiness, already known, were 
 now fully developed. But all obstacles 
 were surmounted by the persistency of 
 the young peer. Few priests are proof 
 against the prayers of an ardent youth, the 
 patron of eleven livings. Lady Beacons- 
 field would arrange matters both for the 
 tutor and his truant pupil. In six years 
 the ardent youth would be his own master, 
 when he could arrange them himself. Mr. 
 Burton smiled at his impetuosity. Mrs. 
 Burton smiled. Miss Burton smiled. 
 The chaise departed with two passengers, 
 and the boys leaving their school and its 
 friendships entered on the friendship of 
 a, lifetime. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 v 
 
 r-j-jcf. Qaodj , 
 
 *lko '? 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE HOUR OF GRIEF. 
 
 IT was late on the evening of the 
 third day when the carriage arrived at 
 the Lincolnshire mansion of the Earl' 
 of Beaconsfield, the house which death 
 had so lately visited. The young master, 
 forgetful of all but his mother, jumped 
 from the half-opened door, scarce bid- 
 ding his " companion to follow. There 
 are moments when the ties of blood assert 
 their power. While all runs smoothly
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 1ST 
 
 on the road of life friends may seem 
 dearer than those bestowed by nature, 
 but the hour of grief calls forth the 
 magnet power of blood to unite kins- 
 men. 
 
 St. Elme, however, was not neglected. 
 The statesmanlike butler having greeted 
 his young master with a judicious com- 
 bination of condolence and congratula- 
 tion led the young master's friend to a- 
 warm library, ' while his orders were 
 executed for the preparation of a bedroom. 
 
 Meanwhile Cuthbert was content to 
 be neglected. In such a moment who 
 could feel offence ? Not Cuthbert. Even 
 at real neglect he would feel but little 
 resentment; for he was of those whose 
 pleasure it is in communion with a friend 
 to place aside all personal considerations 
 of those to whom self-denial is a selfish 
 pleasure. 
 
 c 2
 
 20 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 Moreover to Cuthbert it was no soli- 
 tude to remain alone. He did not desig- 
 nate as a friend every boyish acquaint- 
 ance, and in the absence of a real 
 friend he preferred his own society. He 
 raised up to his lonely hours companions 
 who smiled pleasantly upon him. He 
 was a musing, speculative boy, not 
 analyzing the subtle actions of a morbid 
 mind, or counting the hidden beatings 
 of a heart ; but calmly conjuring up quiet 
 visions of peace and love, gentle faces 
 clustering around him, soft eyes cheering 
 him through the path of life. 
 
 Cuthbert was not formed for the hard 
 toilings of the world. His mind was 
 well cultivated, and of a gentle mould. 
 His after life might bring forth powers 
 of rhetoric and poetry ; but not the rhe- 
 toric for the senate, or the poetry of 
 metaphysics. His would be the persua- 
 A h x'
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 21 
 
 sive eloquence of the cloisters, home- 
 truths, and soothing theology ; or the 
 gliding, richly-imaged numbers, stealing 
 to the inmost recesses of the heart with 
 simple trust and hopeful truth. 
 
 Such was the promise of his youth. 
 
 And thus he sat musing before a peat 
 fire, such as they use in the northern 
 counties musing, and borrowing his 
 musings from the ruddy embers. Fairies 
 had once danced upon that turf. Heroes 
 had once stood upon it. A knight and 
 his ladye-love had cantered together 
 across the moor whereof it had once 
 formed a part. The knight was like 
 himself, such as he was; and the ladye- 
 love a girlish form that touched his 
 hands, and raised her laughing eyes to 
 his the laughing eyes of Lady Norah 
 Donovan. 
 
 Years had elapsed since he had seen 
 her face. As a child Cuthbert had loved-
 
 22 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 and played with his little contemporary. 
 Her bright face, her dark curling locks, her 
 beautifully-tinted skin, had fixed them- 
 selves permanently on his memory. Her 
 beauty as a child was of a kind not 
 unsuited to an older form. As Cuthbert 
 numbered year after year, her features 
 were those to which his mind vaguely 
 recurred as his ideal of beauty. For him. 
 in!-* t'-' 
 
 " Her angel's face, 
 
 As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright, 
 And made a sunshine in the shady place." 
 
 Through all his boyhood it had fitted 
 every character of beauty. Now, as he 
 began to tread the path of manhood, it 
 sought him with increased persistence. 
 
 No wonder then, that now, when under 
 the same roof, that ideal face should 
 greet him at every turn. Round about 
 him he saw the music, the drawings
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 23 
 
 bearing her name. The bird that doubt- 
 less twittered at her approach, the books 
 that enriched her mind, accessories all 
 waiting her presence and command. 
 
 Hers was a pleasing image. Cuthbert 
 never wished to banish it. On the con- 
 trary, whenever it appeared, every effort 
 of his mind was bent on retaining it. 
 
 Now he sits absorbed in this task. He 
 does not hear the gentle opening of the 
 door, rior the light step upon the carpet. 
 But he hears the soft voice that calls his 
 name, and starting sees the personification 
 of his dream. 
 
 He starts at the reality of his precon- 
 ception. His mind, identified from the 
 first with her beauty, had grown with her 
 growth, and by unfelt induction had 
 produced sufficiently faithful pictures of 
 her presence. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. St. Elme?' 
 hesitated Norah.
 
 24 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 A girl of sixteen scarce likes to address 
 a boy of the same age by his Christian 
 
 name. Mr appears almost too great 
 
 an honour. Master is vulgar, and 
 
 almost contemptuous. 
 
 " Then I am no longer a cousin?" The 
 boy blushed at his audacity as he pressed 
 the maiden's hand. 
 
 " Well then, Cuthbert, I am so glad to 
 see you, to thank you for your kindness 
 to Edward at this awful time." The 
 vision smiled with far more grace than 
 appeared compatible with a house of 
 mourning. 
 
 " But, oh ! Cuthbert" she pronounced 
 the name this time with the composure of 
 old acquaintance " Oh! Cuthbert, I hope 
 you will not suffer from this imprudence. 
 How much indebted we all are to your 
 kindness.'' 
 
 "To see you is a sufficient reward,"
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 25 
 
 Cuthbert answered innocently, with the 
 real sentiment of his heart. But the 
 young lady could not resist the compli- 
 ment. She would have curtsied; but, 
 checked by the recollection that the grace- 
 ful folds of her dress were of a sombre 
 hue, with a smile, half mournful, half gay, 
 she left her cousin to resume his musings .
 
 26 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 .i? 'to .td 
 
 8IT01 9(15:4 j- 
 -96 T.-Hlfo J? ,T. 
 
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 ^'i'! ; 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 aio'iod boequb bij-:' 
 
 A GREAT LADY. 
 
 THE day for the funeral soon followed. 
 The long dark procession left the porch 
 of the old house, wound down the hill, 
 followed by tearful eyes and swelling 
 hearts, until the mortal part of Cornelius, 
 second Earl of Beaconsfield, was con- 
 signed with feathers and with velvet to 
 the vault prepared for his family. 
 
 His tomb subsequently recounted his 
 virtues and his public services. He had
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 27 
 
 been a kind husband and a knight of St. 
 Patrick, an indulgent father, a generous 
 landlord, a privy councillor, a chief se- 
 cretary for Ireland, a good protestant, 
 and provincial grand master of Freemasons. 
 In ccelo quies. Beaconsfield, its dependants 
 and dependencies, turned obsequiously to 
 the young successor. 
 
 Some days however had elapsed before 
 Cuthbert was able to see the mother of 
 his friend. 
 
 The Countess of Beaconsfield, better 
 known in younger life as Lady Mary 
 Donovan, was the daughter of a serious 
 gentleman, whom fortune had favoured 
 late in life with poverty and a marquisate. 
 A distant cousin had lost at one blow his 
 only two sons ; and feeling too old to re- 
 commence a married life, he shortly after 
 followed those without whom the world 
 offered no attractions.
 
 28 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 The deceased Lord Beaconsfield was at 
 that time a young man whose fortune 
 was not yet confirmed. 
 
 He was in Parliament and held a small 
 office in the ministry, but his father had 
 as yet only reached the dignity of a 
 baronet a position not sufficiently eleva- 
 ted to gild the coarseness of his manners, 
 or to conceal the obscurity of his origin. 
 His son was ambitious, calculating, and 
 sensitive. He felt the necessity of se- 
 curing his position by an aristocratic 
 marriage, but he feared the mortification 
 of repulse from a family to whom his 
 great wealth and personal accomplishments 
 might not be considered a sufficient quali- 
 fication for a son-in-law. 
 
 The death of the old marquis relieved 
 him from his perplexities. The serious 
 successor, blessed, after the manner of 
 serious gentlemen, with a numerous
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 2*9 
 
 progeny, was not averse to the union of 
 a daughter with the wealthy commoner. 
 
 The negotiation was speedily brought 
 to a conclusion, and, with splendid settle- 
 ments and jewellery, Lady Mary Dutton 
 took up her abode in a pleasant apartment 
 of the Admiralty. 
 
 Lady Mary, thus turned into a states- 
 woman and a lady of consideration, ful- 
 filled her duties in an exemplary manner. 
 She was well bred from a natural kind- 
 ness of heart. Her manners, therefore, 
 conciliatory without an effort, gained 
 the friendships useful to her husband's 
 cause. Her urbanity to Mrs. Flunker, 
 wife of Gabriel Flunker, the great copper- 
 master, secured that gentleman's interest 
 on a question most vital to Mr. Donovan's 
 political existence. Her equal condescen- 
 sion to Lady Mud worth and to a leading 
 lady of fashion had completely under-
 
 30 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 mined the foundations of stern democracy 
 on which Sir George Mudworth, the hus- 
 band, had erected the castle of his poli- 
 tical creed. 
 
 The result of his marriage was the 
 complete realization of Mr. Donovan's 
 views of personal aggrandizement. His 
 own natural gifts, and the ready vote of 
 his father in the Irish House of Commons 
 speedily promoted the latter to high rank 
 in the peerage of his native county. 
 Donovan's task was now accomplished. 
 Having entered the pale of dignified nobi- 
 lity, he abandoned the sphere of politics 
 hitherto adopted as ancillary to his pro- 
 motion. Leaving London and the proxy 
 of his English barony as a testimony of 
 gratitude, he retired to the English estates 
 purchased in the spirit of pure patriot- 
 ism, and allowed his wife to subside into
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 31 
 
 patchwork and offices of bounty and be- 
 nevolence. 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding the calm nature 
 of her married life, Lady Beaconsfield 
 deeply felt the loss of her husband. Not 
 only did she feel the absence of his fami- 
 liar face, but she had conceived an esteem 
 and respect for his character, blended with 
 pity for the causes of his faults. She 
 had never penetrated through his reserve ; 
 but she had sounded its depth, and knew 
 that beneath the surface there lay a stratum 
 of sterling worth and kindliness. Many 
 were the kind actions he had performed, 
 coldly perhaps, but still far kinder than 
 if dictated solely by a sense of duty or 
 regard for social appearances. And the 
 peer, beneath all his reserve, reverenced 
 the virtues of his wife. Unknowingly to 
 her, he had yielded to her all the affection 
 of which his nature was capable. At his
 
 32 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 death it was discovered, that although 
 a man of business was joined with her in 
 case of necessity, or for the arduous ma- 
 nagement of an estate, that Lady Beacons- 
 field was left sole guardian of her children 
 and their interests.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 33 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A GREAT LADY AND A LITTLE LADY. 
 
 IT was through Lady Beaconsfield that 
 Cuthbert claimed kinship with her chil- 
 dren. 
 
 His father, a clergyman, the first cousin 
 of Lord Elmwood, had married a go- 
 verness, beautiful, and the daughter 
 of a bankrupt merchant. The father 
 had followed his beautiful wife to the 
 grave when Cuthbert was very young. 
 At the intercession of Lady Beaconsfield, 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 also a cousin, Lord Elmwood consented 
 to extend his charity to the orphan of 
 those whose union he would never forgive. 
 His nature was proud and vindictive. He 
 relented only when stung by the informa- 
 tion that Lord Beaconsfield, the plebeian, 
 had volunteered to the poor boy the assist- 
 ance denied him by his nearest relatives. 
 Elmwood was parsimonious only of his 
 dignity. He would not see the boy, but 
 he would provide for him in a manner 
 worthy an offshoot of his house. He paid 
 for his education, and settled on him an 
 annuity equivalent to the fortune of a 
 younger son. 
 
 Under these circumstances it was not 
 difficult to arrange matters with the 
 haughty peer. He had received without 
 remark the news of Cuthbert's departure 
 from Mri Burton's establishment. He as- 
 sented with equal indifference to the plans
 
 OP A POLITICIAN, 35 
 
 for his future career suggested by the 
 guardian of the young earl. He knew his 
 honour, and that of his house, to be safe 
 from derogation. Further, he cared but 
 little. 
 
 These future arrangements formed the 
 subject of Cuthbert's first interview with 
 &is considerate hostess. He found her 
 ^alone, as was to be expected in deep 
 mourning ; and though subdued, still 
 without any affectation of excellence in 
 grief. She was a handsome old woman 
 old indeed, for she had married when no 
 longer young ; and the loss of her elder 
 children had left on her the traces of suf- 
 fering. In the retirement of her later years 
 she had insensibly dropped into old age, 
 as is oftener the case than with those who 
 support their years by the excitement of 
 cities. 
 
 She received with kindness her young 
 
 "
 
 36 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 kinsman, with kindness and with dig- 
 nity. 
 
 She extended her hand as he bent, and 
 respectfully kissing her forehead made the 
 usual inquiries. 
 
 " We will not talk of my health, dear 
 Cuthbert ; we must talk of your prospects. 
 My life is a thing of the past, yours of the 
 future. I could not resist the pleasure of 
 seeing you once before your departure ; the 
 more so, as I wished you to hear from my 
 lips the result of my arrangements with 
 Lord Elmwood." 
 
 Cuthbert, seated by her side on a sofa, 
 pressed her hand, and she continued. 
 
 " We have thought it better that neither 
 yourself nor Edward should continue at 
 Mr. Burton's. Edward seems to have a 
 very strong wish to enter the army; but 
 whether he continues in the same mind or 
 not, I should like him to travel. Lord
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 37 
 
 Elm wood agrees with me, subject to your 
 consent, that you should accompany him 
 two years on the continent with a good 
 tutor. It will do you no harm before going 
 to the university. Mr. Burton's brother, 
 whom you already know, is to go with 
 you. I trust to you to assist him in keep- 
 ing Edward out of scrapes. He is full of 
 spirits, but easily led, too easily perhaps. 
 Do you consent to this plan, dear Cuth- 
 bert ? May I ask you to be a kind friend 
 and companion to my boy ?" 
 
 The tears ran down Cuthbert's cheeks 
 as he thanked the kind old lady. There 
 was something inexpressibly touching in 
 her tones. 
 
 The type of a grand 1 -dame, her familiar 
 but dignified manner inspired confidence 
 and respect, while her consideration se- 
 cured affection and devotion. 
 
 Cuthbert could not find words to reply.
 
 38 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 She continued: 
 
 " Lord Elmwood will make you a 
 handsome allowance; but always recol- 
 lect that Edward and yourself are cousins r 
 and that Mr. Burton will treat you in all 
 respects in the same manner." 
 
 She sunk back fatigued. The emo- 
 tions and cares of the last few days had 
 exhausted her strength. Cuthbert with 
 his usual delicacy saw it was time to take 
 leave of her. 
 
 " I will not thank you," he whispered. 
 " Thanks are impossible. Heaven knows 
 that I love your boy as my brother, t and 
 that I will not betray the trust you re- 
 pose in me. I will write to you often- 
 and give you our news. Good bye, my 
 kind, good, dearest benefactress. I am 
 very lonely in the world but for you. 
 God bless you." 
 
 " God bless you, my dear boy," she
 
 OP A POLITICIAN. 39 
 
 replied, smiling faintly; "I shall not see 
 you again before you go." 
 
 He turned away with heaviness at his 
 heart. 
 
 He walked musing through a long 
 suite of apartments that led to the outer 
 hall. He had not gone far when a sound 
 caught his ear not unlike a sob. He 
 turned, and in the embrasure of a window 
 perceived his cousin Norah weeping with 
 Irish enthusiasm. 
 
 " What ! Norah crying !" exclaimed 
 Cuthbert, taking his cousin's little hand. 
 "Dear Norah!" 
 
 Dear was a favourite adjective with 
 Cuthbert. 
 
 " Oh, Cuddie, I am so grieved. We 
 have had nothing but grief; and now 
 Edward is going away." 
 
 " Is that all ?" thought the boy, half 
 relinquishing the tiny ringers.
 
 40 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 His look must have betrayed his 
 thoughts. 
 
 " And I'm sorry too that you must 
 leave us," continued the young lady with 
 returning composure. 
 
 " Dear Norah," repeated Cuddie, re- 
 suming the hand. 
 
 " You must write often, wont you ?" 
 
 "Often so often!" 
 
 "And you wont be gone for long at 
 a time?" 
 
 " No certainly not." 
 
 " I must bid you good bye to-day, 
 Cuddie dear. Mamma and I are going 
 to start for Cromer. Good bye." 
 
 Cuddie kissed her cheek. 
 
 " Here, Cuddie, remember me by this." 
 
 She took a little chain from her neck 
 and fixed it to her cousin's watch. 
 
 " Good bye."
 
 : or A POLITICIAN. 41 
 
 He kissed her cheek again, and she 
 glided from the room like a little fairy, 
 half smiling half sobbing. 
 
 The next day the boys started with 
 their tutor, and the old house was left in 
 solitude.
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 flTTCtf GJ fivro.! 
 
 atooxib '8fit gflfaqofu 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 oJ fcaldjujo -.<w b> 
 
 CRESCJT EUNDO. 
 
 lusii f{nt' v' Ufij i} i-nA 
 THEEE, four, five years passed away, 
 
 and the two young men were still at 
 their travels, returning to England during 
 the university terms. Mr. Burton was a 
 prince of tutors. He was thoughtful and 
 gentlemanlike. His task was therefore 
 not difficult, as Cuthbert was ready to 
 assist him in controlling the somewhat 
 harum scarum propensities of the young
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 43 
 
 earl. Never was there so happy a little 
 party. 
 
 Travelling slowly from town to town 
 and village to village, adopting the climate 
 they liked best, they had traversed a largo 
 portion of the European continent. 
 
 At certain intervals, however, they re- 
 turned home to report progress, when 
 Cuthbert saw Norah, and was enabled to 
 watch her growth as his own feelings yearly 
 became stronger. And what Norah had 
 been as a child, as a girl, she continued 
 as she entered on womanhood. 
 
 The same bright beauty; the same fairy 
 figure; the same mind, susceptible of 
 sudden emotions, courting admiration; 
 and the same disposition, assuming the 
 form of caprice as a means of tormenting 
 those she loved best, and keeping alive 
 their aifections. 
 
 But besides this, there was a vast
 
 44 
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 amount of good in Norah. Her educa- 
 tion had kept pace with her years, and 
 she knew at one-and-twenty many things 
 of which young ladies of that age are 
 often ignorant. In music and drawing 
 she was a proficient, sufficient to elicit 
 passionate admiration. But in addition 
 she had a knowledge almost critical of 
 many poets of her own country, and was 
 familiar with the best productions of the 
 foreign muse. 
 
 No wonder therefore that the love of 
 Cuthbert increased and multiplied. He 
 had more causes than are sufficient to 
 warrant a youthful affection. Beauty is 
 generally sufficient. With Norah there 
 was the charm of conversation, the inter- 
 change of ideas, the sympathy of studies.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 45 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 UNA SEL7A OSCURA. 
 
 THE two young men were on the eve of 
 departure for a journey that would pro- 
 bably prove their last. 
 
 It was the last long vacation. Both 
 had taken their degree Edward, a year 
 his cousin's junior, having profited by the 
 spirit of servility that facilitates to nobles 
 distinction even in the seat of letters ; and 
 they were to travel once more through 
 Switzerland and Italy once more to
 
 46 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 refresh their classical memory by local 
 reference and personal inspection of classic 
 scenes. 
 
 Lady Beaconsfield had been for some 
 time ailing. Though kind as ever, she 
 was soon wearied in the society of her 
 young companions, and was glad in 
 solitude to seek that consolation which 
 could alone avail her in the hour of trial. 
 
 Edward had many attractions. His 
 farms and his preserves occupied much of 
 his attention. And at the neighbouring 
 country seat, the blonde daughter of a 
 baronet was pretty sure to see the young 
 earl and his horse at least once in the 
 course of each recurring day. 
 
 What then was left to Cuthbert and 
 Norah but the enjoyment of each other's 
 society? It was their only resource 
 against ennui. No wonder therefore that
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 47 
 
 they religiously profited by the resource 
 thus thrown in their way. 
 
 The pair were walking together near 
 the artificial water that formed a prin- 
 cipal ornament of the park. 
 
 Cuthbert had been staying at Beacons- 
 field for some time, suffering severely from 
 the girl's waywardness, and offering but 
 little resistance to her will. Nevertheless, 
 he had never achieved sufficient courage to 
 utter the few words necessary to elicit the 
 answer fondly hoped for as an ample 
 reward for the petty sufferings, the sleep- 
 less nights, and bitter days, caused by his 
 volatile mistress. 
 
 They had been laughing and joking for 
 some time, and Cuthbert in vain endea- 
 vouring to wedge in a little sentiment. 
 Norah had a presentiment of his intention, 
 and took a malicious pleasure in thwarting
 
 48 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 all attempt at putting it into execution-. 
 She laughed, she danced and chatted, till, 
 tired at her own gaiety, and, let it be con- 
 fessed, at the efforts made to sustain a false 
 part, she suddenly relapsed into silence. 
 
 There would be aptness, thought Cuth- 
 bert, in a quotation. Unfortunately for the 
 moment none occurred to him. At length 
 as he crossed his cousin and took up a 
 position nearer the water, so that from 
 lower ground he might watch her face 
 with greater ease, he determined to risk a 
 few lines, 
 
 " Nel mezzo del caramin di nostra vita, 
 Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura 
 Che la diritta via' er smarrita." 
 
 "If you go on reciting much longer, 
 Cuddie, you will soon be come quei, che 
 con lena affannata uscito fuor del pelago 
 alia riva, Si volge all' acqua perigliosa, e 
 guata."
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 
 
 Cuthbert turned and found that in his 
 enthusiasm he had walked lower and 
 lower down the bank till he was standing 
 in a muddy pool. 
 
 The incident was unfortunate, senti- 
 mentality in muddy boots! He allowed 
 some minutes for Norah's mirth to sub- 
 side. 
 
 Then he began 
 
 " Do you recollect giving me this chain 
 five years ago ?" 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 " I have worn it ever since." 4* 
 
 " Really." 
 
 " I have indeed. I have never parted 
 with it a moment." 
 
 "Not even at night?" 
 
 " No ; I have slept with it under my 
 pillow." 
 
 " That was to get easily at your 
 watch." 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " Norah, why are you so unkind ?'' 
 
 She was crying. 
 
 " Crying, Norah ! " Cuthbert was 
 touched and flattered ; she would not give 
 him the advantage. 
 
 " Yes, you will recall such dreadful 
 times, when we were all so unhappy." 
 
 Cuthbert withdrew. 
 
 " Well, Norah, I am going to-morrow." 
 
 " You seem never tired of making the 
 agreeable announcement.' 5 
 
 " But you don't care about it. 5 ' 
 
 " I do indeed it is so dull, being here 
 all alone without you or ' Edward.' >; 
 
 " Then you do care for my society a 
 little." 
 
 " Of course I do. Have I not known 
 you all my life?" 
 
 " Well, I dare say you must feel very 
 dull here. You are not made to live in the 
 country. You want amusement and excite-
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 51 
 
 ment. For my part I should not care were 
 I never to see a town again." 
 
 " I should like the country too if there 
 was any one I cared for." 
 
 Here was a glorious opportunity. Yet 
 Outhbert was not content it must be 
 repeated ; he deserved never to be success- 
 ful again. 
 
 "But you cannot care for any one," 
 lie replied, gradually becoming mas- 
 ter of the position. " You are so 
 thoughtless, so changeable, that you 
 could not care for any body for a 
 week." 
 
 Cuthbert had taken the right course. 
 He had told a hard truth, he had inflicted 
 a little wound. Out came the tears; this 
 time there was no pretext of "dreadful 
 times." Cuthbert could luxuriate in the 
 contemplation of those tears as his own 
 unaided work. 
 
 2
 
 52 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " Then you can care for some one for 
 a week ?" 
 
 "Cuddle! how can you be so cruel ?' r 
 
 Things must be brought to a special 
 
 < ... j Ji T? otron^ 
 
 issue. 
 
 "Norah! could you care for me for 
 a week?" 
 
 " For ever." 
 
 Concealment was abhorrent to Cuth- 
 bert's feelings. His first impulse^therefore 
 was to reveal to Lady Beacon sfield all 
 that had happened, and to ask her consent 
 and blessing; but Norah's entreaties de- 
 terred him from this course. 
 
 The two young men were to leave the 
 following morning; and Cuddie was easily 
 persuaded by his betrothed that in her 
 mother's weak state of health an abrupt 
 announcement might be productive of 
 dangerous results. St. Elme would have
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 53 
 
 been contented with even weaker reason- 
 ing from the lips of his Norah. Like 
 Badoura of Balsora, she could have sported 
 -with the reason of the poet and the prose 
 -writer, how much more with that of a 
 young and loving student ! 
 
 The morning arrived, and Edward and 
 his friend set out on that journey. Cuthbert 
 -wore the chain as before; but next his 
 heart there lay a little locket, containing a 
 twisted tress revered from the marble 
 brow of Norah. 
 
 The two sat in silence side by side as 
 they drove to the station, the distance of 
 some miles. Both were absorbed in 
 thought. Cuddie, as we know, thinking of 
 his friend's sister. Edward, perhaps, 
 mourning his separation from the baro- 
 net's daughter. They were too intimate 
 to notice each other's manner. 
 
 The station and the journey performed
 
 54 
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 their usual office. The two young men,, 
 observant by nature, soon found amuse- 
 ment, and consequently distraction. They 
 arrived in London, dined quietly at Long's, 
 and went to a theatre in the evening. But 
 each had taken the precaution to slip a 
 letter, seal upwards, into the Bond-street 
 post-office.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 55 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A NEW FACE. 
 
 THE theatre was crowded. Macready 
 was giving one of his most wonderful im- 
 personations, the two young men with 
 difficulty obtained places. They were com- 
 pelled at last to take the only private box 
 that remained vacant. 
 
 )uthbert was soon absorbed in the scene 
 before him. There was something in the 
 drama that had for him a peculiar fascina-
 
 56 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 tion. At a farce he would laugh till the 
 tears ran down his cheeks. At a comedy 
 he would fall in love with the heroine. 
 At a play conveying higher sentiments, 
 or in an opera of a high school, his ideas 
 were not only engrossed by the action 
 and the language, but his imagination 
 became fired with thoughts so wild, so 
 ambitious, that in his calmer moments he 
 would have thought them impossible. 
 
 At length there came one passage of 
 exceeding beauty and power. The actor 
 burst from a scene of monotony to one of 
 intense passion. His eyes dilated, his 
 chest expanded, his whole form assumed 
 the majesty of might and passion, while 
 his voice rung out a wondrous invective. 
 Cuthbert turned to his friend for the 
 sympathy of admiration. 
 
 Edward's place was empty. 
 
 There was not, however, much interval
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 57 
 
 for astonishment, as the curtain rapidly 
 rose again for the concluding scene. 
 
 It was not long, but sufficient to exhibit 
 the genius of the tragedian. 
 
 At length it concluded. The peroration 
 was pronounced ; and the actor, gasping in 
 death, but dying grandly and with dig- 
 nity, gathered his cloak around him. 
 The whole house was hushed, as one by 
 one the last words ebbed slowly from the 
 artist's lips. For one moment Cuthbert's 
 eyes were turned away. In the box oppo- 
 site sat Edward by the side of a lady. 
 Behind him stood a girl of fifteen, her 
 eyes sparkling, her bosom heaving, as 
 with mouth half opened she gazed intently 
 at the stage. 
 
 Then came the thunders of applause, 
 the curtain fell, the applause was renewed, 
 and the actor bowed his acknowledgments. 
 
 Cuthbert rose and leaned against the
 
 58 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 side of his box. Raising his glasses, he 
 turned them once more to that which 
 contained his friend. This time the eyes 
 and the glasses of the inmates were turned 
 towards himself. He felt embarrassed 
 even at that distance, and through the 
 whole 1 * evening he was made uncomfort- 
 able by the conviction that he was under- 
 going a strict inspection. 
 
 At length it was time to go, and yet 
 Edward did not return. Cuthbert left 
 the box, and proceeded to the lobby. 
 A carriage stood at the entrance. Near 
 it gossiped Edward with the elderly lady 
 on his arm, and a little behind the beau- 
 tiful girl. Cuthbert felt well disposed to 
 the whole party. The steps were let 
 down, and the two seated themselves in 
 the carriage. 
 
 Edward had not returned when Cuth- 
 bert retired to rest.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 59 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A PLEASANT PROJECT. 
 
 CUTHBERT awoke 'rather late the morn- 
 ing after his arrival. Lord Beaconsfield's 
 servant, who was preparing his toilet, 
 informed him that his master had been 
 out for some time and would meet him 
 later at a coachmaker's in Long Acre. 
 
 Having dressed, breakfasted, and duly 
 kissed the locket hanging from his neck, 
 Cuthbert started to keep the appointment.
 
 60 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 r\ i ^ j. j.i i i j 
 
 On his arrival at the couchmaker s and 
 inquiring for Lord Beaconsfield, Cuthbert 
 was informed that his lordship was in 
 the yard looking at carriages. He went 
 to join him, and found him in the act of 
 criticising a travelling carriage of great 
 beauty, that stood prominent amidst the 
 wares of Mr. Sheriff Laurie. 
 
 Near him sat a lady no longer young, 
 whom Edward seemed to treat with the 
 familiarity of an old acquaintance. She 
 was tall, stout, and evidently belonging to 
 the higher classes. She spoke occasionally, 
 and appeared to listen to the observations 
 of others with deep attention, which 
 might be real or affected. Cuthbert started 
 as he recognized the owner of the box 
 for which the previous night his cousin, 
 had deserted him. 
 
 "Oh! Cuddie, I am so glad you're come, 
 lazy fellow. An idea struck me in the
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 61 
 
 middle of the night ; and as I was not able 
 to sleep on account of it, I got up the 
 first thing in the morning to put it into 
 execution." 
 
 "What is it? Some wild plan, I sup- 
 pose ; at any rate let us hope it is a pleasant 
 
 one." 
 
 " Why nothing more than this : I pro- 
 pose to take that mail phaeton and a pair 
 of horses, with a fourgon for the servants, 
 and to drive through France and over the 
 Mount Cenis as far as we like." 
 
 Cuthbert paused for a moment. 
 
 " It is a delightful plan, Edward. When 
 are we to start ?" 
 
 " Why Laurie promises me the carriages 
 for to-morrow. I have found a pair of 
 stout little horses for ourselves, and all I 
 have to do is to find horses for the four- 
 gon. Suppose we say the day after 
 to-morrow."
 
 62 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 Cuthbert was in nowise loath to remain 
 the two additional days. It gave him a 
 chance of receiving a letter from Norah. 
 Beaconsfield perhaps might have had a 
 similar attraction. 
 
 During the conversation the strange 
 lady had walked about to examine dif- 
 ferent carriages in the yard. She was 
 out of earshot, but Cuthbert felt her 
 eyes turned constantly to himself. 
 
 She prepared to depart at the same 
 time with the two cousins. On going out 
 she turned round to shake hands with 
 Beaconsfield. In so doing she spoke to 
 him a few words in a low voice, still 
 looking intently at the embarrassed Cuth- 
 bert. Edward assisted her to a small 
 job brougham with a foreign out-of-livery 
 servant, and she drove away. 
 
 Cuthbert, although much struck by the 
 manner of Edward's acquaintance forbore
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 63 
 
 to ask any question respecting her. He 
 had a strong feeling in his friendships 
 against intrusion or confidence even of 
 the most trivial nature. Edward and 
 himself had few secrets from each other; 
 but with a tact and delicacy without 
 which the strongest affection is often not 
 proof against quarrels, no attempt was 
 made, on either side, to discover any 
 secrets that either might wish to conceal. 
 On this occasion Cuthbert was sorely 
 tempted to break through his rule. Ed- 
 ward seemed to expect a question, was 
 embarrassed and silent. But Cuthbert 
 manfully adhered to his Median law, 
 never as yet infringed, never to be in- 
 fringed, without weakening it, as well as 
 the friendship it maintained.
 
 64: PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 AN EVERY-DAY STORY. 
 
 MEANWHILE, as the two young men are 
 engaged in the trivial preparations for a 
 journey, it may not be inopportune to 
 indulge in retrospect, to examine the 
 effect on Cuthbert's fortunes, produced 
 by the doings of a former generation. 
 
 Cuthbert's father was the improvident 
 son of an improvident younger son. 
 
 Brought up in the household of Lord 
 Elmwood, his uncle, Basil St. Elme, had
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 65 
 
 endeared himself to all, by the kindness 
 of his heart and the rashness of his 
 habits. 
 
 In early life a day could scarcely elapse 
 without the occurrence of some terrible 
 accident endangering his life and limb. 
 But he recovered with amazing celerity 
 from these disasters for the purpose of in- 
 curring danger still more alarming. Not- 
 withstanding this nature, however, he was 
 no inapt scholar, nor at all averse to his 
 studies. Educated with his cousin, the 
 eldest son of Lord Elmwood, his senior 
 by some years, Basil was but little behind 
 him in proficiency. The young Viscount 
 professed however a strong affection for 
 his cousin an affection much doubted by 
 the household to whom Lord Hasledon's 
 cat-like imperiousness formed a painful 
 contrast to the frank dignity of the poor 
 relation. 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 But Basil was born neither with a silver 
 spoon, nor with that valuable substitute 
 Prudence. Not contented with distinc- 
 tion at college both for attainments and 
 for dissipation, on his return to Elmwood, 
 covered with honours and loaded with 
 debts, he saw and fell in love with the 
 soft blue eyes of Emma Mordaunt, the 
 companion and governess of Lord Elm- 
 wood's younger daughter. 
 
 This accident was the most terrible of 
 all. Basil himself felt the absurdity of 
 his position as he listened to the good ad- 
 vice of his best friends. For once he took 
 a wise resolution. Day by day he taught 
 himself to forget her, and to extricate 
 himself from the entanglement. 
 
 He had just succeeded and was receiving 
 congratulations on the subject, when one 
 morning he married her. 
 
 This accident was irremediable. Ba-
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 67 
 
 nished from the house in which he had been 
 brought up, he was forced to abandon all 
 the hopes, all the ambition, entertained 
 and cherished even in his wildest moments. 
 
 Penniless, and with a wife, he must 
 have starved had not Lord Elrnwood so 
 far extended his compassion as to inform 
 the exile, through the steward, that on 
 notifying his determination to embrace 
 orders, a living of some value should be 
 placed at his disposal in the north of 
 England. 
 
 The young man accepted the offer 
 broken hearted. A friendly bishop was 
 found fto ordain him without much in- 
 quiry; andJBasil, with his wife and infant 
 child, took possession -of the parsonage. 
 
 For Emma with the soft blue eyes, 
 this position would naturally have been 
 one of great happiness. There she was 
 in her sphere. She loved cottages, and the 
 
 F 2
 
 68 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 distribution of blankets. But for Basil 
 it was very different. He chafed at his 
 irksome duties, at the absence of the 
 excitement which formed part, a vital 
 part, of his ambitious nature. It was 
 ambition that in youth had urged him to 
 climb the highest tree, to ride the wildest 
 horse, to attempt the least possible leap, 
 to fight the strongest carter, to study the 
 hardest books. Combativeness and love 
 of approbation were the chief characteris- 
 tics of his mind. For these there was but 
 little scope in the lonely moorland parish. 
 So he chafed and raged at every thing, 
 except his wife whom he loved tenderly, 
 and his little boy. He chafed and raged at 
 himself for yielding to the first suggestion, 
 for accepting a profession which placed 
 an impassable barrier between him and 
 the world, the arena where, even in the 
 absence of glory, he might at least have
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 69 
 
 met with occupation more congenial to 
 his nature. 
 
 And as he raged, his wife, who might, 
 under other circumstances, have been 
 happy, watched him with the soft blue 
 eyes and wept. Daily she felt, although 
 lie never spoke the word or would confess 
 it even to himself daily she felt all that 
 he had resigned for her. She felt it as 
 she gazed and prayed by the side of her 
 sleeping child. She felt it in the night 
 watches as her husband tossed with 
 restless dreams, or woke once more with 
 disappointed hopes. Gradually the feelings 
 wore through her heartstrings, till at 
 length she wept no more. The soft blue 
 eyes shed no more light. The lids were 
 closed upon them. And the parsonage 
 house in the moorland, was exchanged 
 for a nook in the moorland churchyard. 
 
 Then alone did Basil feel what he had
 
 70 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 lost by his mad repinings. Then did he 
 feel the loss of her who soothed his suffer- 
 ing, who calmed his agitated heart, while 
 that agitation was in silence killing her. 
 Then was he indeed ALONE. ALONE. He 
 saw no more of his child, heretofore his 
 constant companion. ALONE he walked for 
 miles across the heather, greeting no one, 
 heeding nothing. ALONE at night he sat 
 by the grave of her who had loved so 
 much, till the first-rays of morning warned 
 Hs proud heart that vulgar eyes might 
 intrude upon his grief. 
 
 At length nature gave way before the 
 privations imposed on himself in the ab- 
 straction of his mind. Even his strong 
 frame was not proof against the turmoil 
 of the last seven years. 
 
 So he died. 
 
 " Bring me Cuthbert," he said to his 
 servant the night before.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 71 
 
 His little boy was brought. There was 
 much about him of his mother, her eyes, 
 her complexion, her manner. The halo 
 of her gentle influence still hovered round 
 him. The dying man took him in his 
 arms. 
 
 "My own little boy," he said, "lam 
 going where your mother went. God 
 grant I may live where she is living. 
 Think of me sometimes, my little boy, 
 when you can hear my voice no more. 
 But love your mother, love her ever, for 
 she is an angel of light. 
 
 " Cuddie, my darling, you will recollect 
 what I am going to say to you. Though 
 you are now a little child you cannot ever 
 forget the words which your father spoke 
 to you on his death-bed. Should you 
 not remember them, you will find them 
 written in the black Bible, almost your 
 only inheritance. These are my words,
 
 72 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 darling Cuddle. Never let any want, any 
 persuasion, drive you to become a clergy- 
 man, unless you feel in your heart that it 
 is right in the sight of God. 
 
 Listen, Cuddie ! Rather beg in the streets, 
 or dig in the fields, than enter the priest- 
 hood if your conscience be not with you. 
 
 " In our race there have been many like 
 me forced to take this parsonage house, 
 this church, in order that they might live. 
 Cuddie, they have all died like me, 
 wretched men. They have lived in the 
 gall of bitterness pray God, that I may 
 be released from the bond of iniquity." 
 
 Two letters were found in the study of 
 the deceased. The one was addressed to 
 his cousin, now for some years the pos- 
 sessor of the title and estates. 
 
 "I have never asked any thing of you 
 for myself. I only ask you to take care 
 of my boy. He has no claim on you but
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 73 
 
 his name. I know you will not allow a 
 St. Elme to perish." 
 
 The second was to Lady Beaconsfield. 
 It was long, covering several sheets. He 
 told her the whole circumstances of his 
 life, from the time of his marriage. He 
 begged her to extend to his child the kind- 
 ness often refused by himself. She had 
 known and loved Emma Mordaunt. For 
 her sake, as well as for his own relationship, 
 she would if necessary intercede for the 
 boy with his relative. The letter ended 
 thus 
 
 " And this I beg of you, that you will 
 never let my boy know so much of my 
 history that his pride shall prevent him 
 from accepting the bounty of Lord Elm- 
 wood. However harshly Elmwood may 
 behave to him, I know that in the matter 
 of money Cuddle's surname will ensure 
 a competence. He will be well educated
 
 74 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 and well treated, though perhaps never 
 asked to cross his cousin's threshold. I 
 wish him to be well educated, and to make 
 friends who will stand by him in the hour 
 of need. Of yourself I request nothing. 
 I know that your own kind heart will sug- 
 gest to you infinitely more than I in my 
 boldest days could venture to ask. But 
 this I do beg of you, and I beg of you to 
 impress it on your children, that although 
 Cuddie may starve, they should never 
 suggest, however kindly, the church as his 
 profession. Eather let him be a bailiff or 
 clerk to their attorney. Here in this 
 distant village are the graves of many of 
 my family, forced to elect between starva- 
 tion or the family simony. They have 
 all been like me, wretched in their exist- 
 ence; and have died like me, like dogs. 
 Remember this, and believe that I have 
 loved you much." 
 
 The sequel we have seen.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 75 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " JOG OW8HAKSPERE. 
 
 HAPPY the man who can travel in his 
 youth. Whether he travel on foot, knap- 
 sack on back, staff in hand whether he 
 travel by diligence, by rail, by sea, by 
 land as a beggar or a prince happy is 
 he who in his youth can travel. 
 
 Take a map, place it on the table, and 
 grasp the world. Study distance by dis- 
 tauce, measure degrees by lines, skip from 
 sea to sea, find out how near your coun-
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 try lies to lands you have learnt in your 
 childhood lands famed in history, flowing 
 with milk and honey, redolent of beauty, 
 teeming with romance. Do this, old man. 
 Mourn the days of youth slipped by and 
 the n eglected opportunity. Weep for your 
 neglect that the boy with small require- 
 ments, the unit, revolved not through the 
 fair world around him ere standing in 
 his orbit to increase and multiply, re- 
 volving like the minute hand of a watch 
 in a small compass, recording small events. 
 Read in your old days of Marathon or 
 Milan, of Seville or Saratoga, of Bor- 
 deaux or Benares, of Rome or Ruatan, 
 of Moscow or Melbourne, and grieve that 
 the unit has not seen them all. Give 
 your son a heavy purse of gold. Bid 
 him to go forth, avoid your example, and 
 wander till thirty. Let that be his for- 
 tune. He will return with his mind en-
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 77 
 
 largecl, freed from prejudices, stored with 
 example and ready expedient, to love his 
 home the more, to despise mankind the 
 less. " The traveller departs a man, and 
 returns a philosopher,"* 
 
 Travellers, they say, see strange things, 
 and tell strange tales. No wonder. To 
 the true, the genuine traveller, wander- 
 ing to see not what others have seen 
 before, but what his lot may offer, the 
 world presents a magician's mirror, wide 
 expanses of beauty, onward and onward 
 and onward roseate mists dispersing at 
 his approach, revealing the wonders of 
 God's work, onward and onward and 
 onward. Here Olympus, crowned with 
 eternal spring; there Hyperborei living 
 their cycle of felicity. High on the snow- 
 capped mountain, surveying the harvests 
 
 * Lamartine.
 
 78 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 of the plain, floating on placid lake or 
 rushing with the swollen rivers, no won- 
 der that the traveller brings home strange 
 tales, tales of awe and mystery of the 
 Almighty power that made the east and 
 the west, the sea and land, the white 
 man and the negro, the loadstone and the 
 
 gem. 
 
 And thus, full of life and spirits, 
 breathing the mountain breeze or calmly 
 rejoicing in the valley, did the two young 
 men collect their strength ere they began 
 their battle with the world strength to 
 endure the struggle, reminiscences of rest 
 when rest itself should be impossible.-
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 79 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 NEWS FROM HOME. 
 
 THE two young men were not tied by 
 any of the conventionalities of travel. 
 They had already in former years tra- 
 versed the countries they now visited. 
 They had performed all the pilgrimages 
 of course, had visited the buildings and 
 admired the pictures prescribed by cus- 
 tom and by Murray. Their present jour- 
 ney was now but a gipsy life on a com- 
 fortable scale certainly, but still with the
 
 80 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 charm of uncertainty. They wandered 
 without any fixed plan, passing the night 
 in any rural village or quaint town that 
 pleased their fancy or excited their cu- 
 riosity. 
 
 Gradually in this manner had they tra- 
 versed France, from Boulogne to Paris, 
 from Paris to Dijon. Many a tale could 
 they tell of rustic fete and peasant hos- 
 pitality. Many a legend had cheered 
 their path as they gave a seat to the 
 tired priest or the benighted sportsman. 
 In a like manner they continued their 
 journey to Geneva, skirting the lake ere 
 they turned their horses' heads to Savoy. 
 
 At length they arrived at Lanslebourg, 
 the last stage where travellers stop to 
 tighten the zone, ere exploring the wind- 
 ings of the noble road which girds over 
 the Cottian Alps the glory of the modern 
 conquerors.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 81 
 
 It was to this place that letters had 
 been forwarded to the cousins from Ge- 
 neva. There were many for the young 
 Earl. For Cuthbert the number was 
 smaller. He, poor boy, had no family, 
 no interested friends, no dependants. 
 Each, however, possessed himself of his 
 share with avidity, not exactly anxious 
 that even the directions should fall under 
 the eye of his companion. At length, 
 having satisfied the cravings of their hun- 
 ger, and warming to each other under 
 the influence of a bottle of good wine 
 carefully stored for occasions in the 
 fourgon, they read the newspapers, and 
 then began to converse. 
 
 " Well, there is some news," exclaimed 
 Edward at length. " Sir Walter Burney is 
 to be made a peer title, Lord Burn- 
 holme." 
 
 Sir Walter Burney was the baronet 
 
 VOL. i. G
 
 PSSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 whose daughter had engaged the suscepti- 
 bilities of Edward. 
 
 "A very good creation, quite an ac- 
 quisition to the house," continued the 
 young man ; " I am very glad of it." 
 
 " I am very glad of it too," replied his 
 cousin. He could not assent to the first 
 proposition. Sir Walter Burney was 
 possessed of great wealth ; but seldom had 
 there existed a gentleman so little calcu- 
 lated to be considered an acquisition in 
 any society. 
 
 " Is it in the paper, Edward ? I should 
 like to see what they say about it." 
 
 " No, not exactly," was the embarrassed 
 answer; "I received the news in a in a 
 letter." 
 
 " Oh ! you received the news in a letter. 
 Will you tell me the date of your letter?" 
 
 " The 15th." 
 
 " Ah ! in that case I may give you
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 83 
 
 some little intelligence. My letter is 
 dated four days later. Lord Burnholme, 
 the acquisition, is coming to take a tour 
 in Italy. He hopes to meet us, me I 
 suppose especially, and will be at Florence 
 in about ten days from this time." 
 
 " Who writes you all this ? You don't 
 know whether whether he brings his 
 daughter with him ?" 
 
 " Norah, who is my informant, writes 
 me word that the whole family is 
 coming." 
 
 " What else does she say? Can I read 
 her letter?" It was now Cuthbert's turn 
 to feel the embarrassment lately caused to 
 his friend. Though turning red, he, with 
 considerable presence of mind, felt in all 
 his pockets, and then declared he had left 
 the precious document in his bedroom. 
 
 "But there is nothing more in it," he 
 continued. Lovers tell such fibs. 
 
 G 2
 
 84 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 "Nothing said about the way the 
 Burneys are coining? We might meet 
 them at Turin." 
 
 " No ; there is nothing about that. She 
 says Marston Burney starts a few days 
 before them, and goes by the St. Gothard. 
 That looks as though they were not taking 
 the same road. They will probably take 
 our old friend the Simplon." 
 
 " What a bore, Cuddie. I wish we had 
 come that road, it's so much finer than 
 this one. It's your fault, Cuddie, I always 
 wanted to come by the Simplon." 
 
 "Indeed, Edward, I am very sorry." 
 He did not contradict his cousin, although 
 in all the arrangements of the journey the 
 latter had decided and chosen entirely 
 according to his own wishes. Besides, 
 Cuthbert was too generous to deprive his 
 disappointed cousin of any relief to be 
 derived from grumbling.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 85 
 
 So, tired and sleepy, they went to their 
 rooms to read again, and perhaps a third 
 time, those two delicate letters, and per- 
 haps in sleep to dream of home and of the 
 hearts that in their absence thought of 
 them. 
 
 The next morning they rose betimes to 
 take a long day's journey. Deserting 
 their carriage at the post house, it was 
 their intention to take the foot road by 
 the little Mont Cenis, the Col de Clair^e, 
 the White Lake, the scenes consecrated 
 by the wild adventure of the AValdenses.
 
 86 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PERIPATETICS. 
 
 THE road was rough and precipitous. 
 The ascent was consequently arduous, 
 relieved only by the excitement of danger. 
 But in the early morning the cousins ex- 
 ulted in the emulation of climbing, and 
 their hearts bounded in the bracing air of 
 the mountain. They spoke but little. 
 Hard walking is not conducive to conver- 
 sation. So the two plodded on manfully, 
 occasionally sitting to rest on some plateau
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 87 
 
 to gaze on the country around, at the far 
 distant sea, and the many-coloured ridges, 
 or to renew their historic recollections a 
 portion of the programme in which Cuth- 
 bert played the principal part. 
 
 " We are standing on the Alps," he ex- 
 claimed. "It is the spot for an emperor 
 to survey his empire." 
 
 " I wonder why the sovereign of Eng- 
 land is not called emperor," interrupted 
 Lord Beaconsfield, who was usually prac- 
 tical in his speculations. " You have an 
 emperor of Austria of Russia nay, even 
 of Turkey. You have had an emperor 
 of France, and may have one again if 
 Louis Napoleon ever succeeds. We talk 
 of the British Empire why on earth 
 shouldn't we have an emperor." 
 
 "I was just thinking the same thing," 
 returned Cuddie, rather more metaphy- 
 sically, " and we are not the first who have
 
 88 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 had the idea. It is said that at the peace 
 the Prince Regent wished the title to 
 be changed; but that the project was 
 opposed by the Allies, as well as by his 
 own ministers. Russia was thus satisfied 
 on seeing the sovereign of England placed 
 on a par with the petty potentates of 
 Wirtemberg or Saxony." 
 
 "Why did the ministers refuse?" 
 
 " For the reason, Edward, that all aris- 
 tocrats fear the aggrandizement of the 
 regal power." 
 
 " But do you think the measure would 
 have been popular in England?" 
 
 " Popular, yes, as the Italians say. 
 The people always enjoy any increase 
 of dignity for their sovereign, in whom 
 they feel an interest as a national institu- 
 tion. They would not care a halfpenny 
 if all the House of Lords were created 
 dukes; but they feel honoured by the
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 89 
 
 titles of their monarch. For my part 
 I feel with the people. Pro rege et grege. 
 Nay, I would any day prefer a democracy 
 to an oligarchy." 
 
 " What, Caddie, are you becoming a 
 republican?" asked the young Earl, asto- 
 nished and yet interested in his cousin's 
 political professions. 
 
 " For my own country I am a Constitu- 
 tionalist. I think a limited monarchy is 
 the development of the virtues and 
 weaknesses of civilization. It is to the 
 royal favour properly bestowed that all 
 look for social recognition of individual 
 merit, independently of their special de- 
 partment. The statesman, the jurist, the 
 man of science or of letters, cannot of 
 himself attain that. recognition. Each in 
 his own walk may attain a high celebrity. 
 But it is for the sovereign to assign their 
 correlative position, to give the ' guinea
 
 90 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 stamp' of dignity, defined value, and 
 undisputed currency." 
 
 " But this you have in England." 
 
 " Scarcely so. Where are the rewards 
 of science or literature except the pay- 
 ments made by manufacturers and pub- 
 lishers? Will a statesmanlike mind of the 
 highest order ever carry its owner to fame 
 or success, unless he be assisted by that 
 fuyyva/a ippufAivr) iv sroXtt, which Plato 
 describes as so fatal to the well-govern- 
 ment of a state, and which in England 
 destroys the efficacy of our institutions by 
 the promotion of mediocrity and the con- 
 sequent depression of unaided talent." 
 
 " But, my dear Cuddie, is not this the 
 case in every country?" 
 
 " Hardly so. In Austria, where despo- 
 tism is paramount, even to the proudest 
 aristocracy in Europe, many have filled 
 the highest offices, who have started from
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 91 
 
 the humblest origin. In republican Ame- 
 rica I find the same results. Only in 
 analogous constitutional France gross 
 ministerial corruption is undermining 
 the foundations of the representative 
 monarchy." 
 
 " What do you want then, Cuddle? Are 
 you dissatisfied with the form of govern- 
 ment at home ?" 
 
 "No, I admire our old constitution; 
 but I look upon it something in the light 
 of an engraver's plate, which from having 
 been in use so long becomes blurred by 
 age, and loses its sharp edges. If I were 
 asked what is the characteristic fault of 
 the English system, I should say an ab- 
 sence of definition." 
 
 "What do you object to particularly? 
 You uphold the power of the crown and 
 the power of the people. I suppose then 
 you want to have a slap at the House of 
 Lords."
 
 92 PASSAGES IN THE LIEE 
 
 " Not at all. Properly managed, I 
 think it is a most salutary establishment. 
 Nay I would have its power increased I 
 mean its direct power." 
 
 " Yet, the honours of the Lords," an- 
 swered the Lord, following his own train of 
 thought, and scarcely heeding his cousin's 
 answer " the honours of the Lords are 
 so much vaunted, because they are within 
 the reach of the humblest." 
 
 " So they are, theoretically and some- 
 times practically. But not to diverge 
 from the main point, I will grant you 
 your proposition. A peerage is, let us say, 
 as much in the satchel of the village 
 school-boy, as the marshal's baton in the 
 knapsack of Napoleon's soldiers. Granted. 
 But I do not object to the peers and their 
 privileges. I told you just now when 
 you were not listening, that I would even 
 increase their powers and their direct
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 93 
 
 influence. But my objection to our aristo- 
 tocratic system is this, that unless a man 
 be made a peer he can be nothing, whereas 
 you have in your aristocracy an amount of 
 inflections tantamount to the highest 
 honours. These are not within the reach 
 of the commoner or plebeian." 
 " What on earth do you mean ?" 
 cc Why I will limit myself to one illus- 
 tration, taking the question of honorary 
 distinctions. These, as I have said, and 
 as all acknowledge, are a great element of 
 the monarchical system. Yet in England, 
 with all our titles, we have no good system 
 of conferring them. Look, for instance, 
 at the many cases from which I will prove 
 my hypothesis. A man, a gentleman, 
 may have obtained the highest station 
 possible to a British subject. He may be 
 prime minister, leader of the House of 
 Commons, of course a privy counsellor,
 
 94 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 and covered with every conceivable Eng- 
 lish decoration; and yet, unless he has 
 five thousand a year, consents to leave 
 the scenes of his triumphs and his utility 
 by taking a seat in the House of Lords, 
 every "whipper-snapper of an earl's younger 
 son, an ensign in the line, or clerk in his 
 own office, takes precedence of him ; while 
 his wife has no earthly rank but that given 
 to a lady mayoress, or the wife of a general 
 of brigade. This is the case of a states- 
 man who probably can become a peer if he 
 wishes it. But take a man who is not a 
 statesman. Take Hallani, take Faraday, 
 take any of those men who pass their 
 whole days in inventions, which add to 
 the wealth and prosperity of their country 
 not to say to its moral and religious 
 improvement. What reward have you 
 for them ? Their genius is appreciated 
 by men of genius ; but the gaby man of
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 95 
 
 fashion has it in his power to inflict on 
 them mortifications which even a man of 
 genius is often not strong enough to 
 despise." 
 
 " But where can you find a remedy?" 
 asked Lord Beaconsfield vacantly, begin- 
 ning to tire of the conversation. 
 
 "I should search for it everywhere. 
 Not far from England is a little kingdom 
 which I look upon as the microcosm 
 the working model of a state. 
 
 " We are told that the Emperor Gallie- 
 nus offered to rebuild a city of Cam- 
 pania, for the philosopher Plotinus to 
 make practical experiments of the political 
 theories of Plato. The rebuilt city could 
 not have offered a fairer scope for the 
 application of theoretical government than 
 did Belgium at the time of her restoration 
 to political independence. And what 
 was the result ? The characteristic virtue
 
 96 
 
 of her people is a love of order, uniting 
 them in a distinct purpose. They conse- 
 quently elected for a constitutional mo- 
 narchy, with a governmental system, re- 
 cognizing the rights of all classes, and 
 avoiding the abuses incidental to similar 
 institutions. They have two chambers. 
 The upper chamber, the senate, is com- 
 posed of a small number enjoying double 
 the political existence, and possessing ten- 
 fold the qualifications of the lower house. 
 Thus, while titles have their value, and the 
 upper classes are distinctly represented, 
 the legislation is so formed as to combine 
 aristocracy without corruption, and demo- 
 cracy without licence."
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 97 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 <l THEN you would have us adopt a 
 Belgian constitution ?" 
 
 " No, although it acts well. I confess 
 I like our hereditary legislature. Yet, in 
 Belgium, in their senate, the aristocratic 
 element is naturally strong. Out of it 
 their great families enjoy consideration 
 amongst the highest of the old empire." 
 
 " Well, Cuddie, when I am of age and 
 you are in Parliament, we will bring in 
 
 VOL. i. H
 
 98 - PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 bills to carry out your theories. You 
 shall be prime minister, and I" 
 
 "What, Edward?" 
 
 " Shall have the garter." 
 
 It was his sole ambition to ennoble his 
 race with the only nobility conferring on 
 the new noble the stamp of real anti- 
 quity. 
 
 " But I shall never be in Parliament." 
 
 " Yes, Cuddie, you shall have Fenning- 
 ham the next election." 
 
 " But suppose I cannot conform to your 
 principles." 
 
 " Then I shall conform to yours." 
 
 They both became thoughtful. 
 
 The meditation rather disagreed with 
 the cemper of the Earl of Beaconsfield. 
 
 He recollected that, the mountain excur- 
 
 
 
 sion would delay for some hours his 
 arrival at Turin, where he expected to 
 meet a certain young lady, or at any rate
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 99 
 
 to receive some intelligence of her wel- 
 fare. 
 
 The guide however came to rouse them 
 both from their reflections. It was eleven 
 o'clock, and they must still climb an 
 hour before reaching the spot to which re- 
 freshments had been sent the day pre- 
 vious. 
 
 " Just let us go a little to the right," 
 entreated Cuthbert. "That is the spot 
 where the Waldenses" 
 
 " I wish you and your Waldenses were 
 further," grumbled Edward while he con- 
 sented. Hunger had begun to take its 
 effect, and Edward always grumbled 
 while he persevered. Cuddie never grum- 
 bled. His organ of perseverance had 
 not received too decided a development. 
 His mind was naturally one to conceive, 
 not to execute. His connection with Lord 
 Beaconsfield was therefore auspicious. 
 
 H 2
 
 100 
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 The poor cousin had the talent to devise. 
 The rich one the energy and the appli- 
 ances necessary for successful action. 
 
 The road became steeper and steeper 
 as the little party clambered up to the 
 high point of their present ambition. As 
 the path became less marked, and the 
 rocks more rugged, the temper of the 
 young Lord waxed warmer and warmer. 
 
 Suddenly it was diverted by a strange 
 apparition. 
 
 An enormous turret-shaped cliff rose 
 abruptly from the mountain before them. 
 On the summit of this was the cottage at 
 which the travellers expected to find their 
 luncheon. The path to their cottage was 
 circuitous and almost invisible, the preci- 
 pitous rock being to all first appearance 
 inaccessible. On a fragment that jutted 
 out from the mass, hanging over the steep, 
 stood a human form clad in dark raiment,
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 101 
 
 and fiercely gesticulating, with a telescope 
 in one hand and a hat in the other. 
 His situation but for its danger was ludi- 
 crous; and the two young men smiled 
 heartily as they endeavoured to call to 
 mind some acquaintance strongly resem- 
 bling the figure before them. They were 
 too much fatigued, however, and out of 
 breath, to assist each other's memory. 
 Incited now by curiosity as well as hunger, 
 they hurried rapidly up the path, which 
 like many others was easy enough when 
 once attempted. 
 
 They turned on to the plateau, and 
 then were greeted by the sight of the 
 gesticulator. 
 
 " Oh ! Maugniet," they both cried, hold- 
 ing out their hands, "how are you, my 
 dear fellow?" 
 
 " Ah ! mon Irlandais," responded the 
 Frenchman, hugging Edward ; " ah ! le
 
 102 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 jeune amoureux Ambigu-Comique ;" 
 and he went through the same ceremony 
 with Cuthbert. 
 
 " What the deuce made you go through 
 that pantomime ?" asked Beaconsfield, on 
 shaking himself free of his friend. 
 
 " Ah! mon cher Irlandais, that master 
 of all invention, Hunger." The French- 
 man tapped the organ most liable to that 
 affection. 
 
 " What can you mean?'' 
 
 "Ah! le cher amoureux'' this was a 
 designation affixed by the Frenchman to 
 the appearance of Cuthbert " ah! my 
 good boy, if you had a friend lying in 
 the pangs of starvation if you had guides 
 who, guiding and guided by the guidance 
 of the devil, had forgotten your proven- 
 der, and still more, to remedy their fault, 
 advised you to take possession of the goods 
 belonging to your neighbour if, under
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 103 
 
 the same sad tutelage, you felt yourself on 
 the point of yielding to temptation, of 
 committing the mortal sin of theft, and if 
 you saw weary but charitable travellers, 
 whose pace was slow, but who by ad- 
 vancing quicker might save you from a 
 speedy death, then would you but here 
 we are : you will find a man an admirer 
 of art and nature reduced to the last re- 
 source to maintain breath in his body." 
 
 They opened the doors, and there was 
 Sir Hugh Dawnay hard at work on a 
 chicken. 
 
 By his side lay a flask bearing Beacon? - 
 field's coronet, near it stood a flagon witli 
 the cypher and crest of St. Elme. 
 
 Without a word Maugniet had joined 
 the repast. The owners, dumbfoundered 
 at the sudden meeting, were longer in 
 taking possession of their goods. Mean- 
 while Dawnay, holding out one hand and
 
 104: PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 nodding quietly, saluted his friends with as- 
 little enthusiasm as though they had met 
 the day before. 
 
 At length, his appetite, satiated, he told 
 his tale, while his friends continued eating. 
 His manner was calm and cold, evidently 
 taken from some model. He smiled at 
 certain regular intervals, in a sort of punc- 
 tuation. Still there was not wanting a 
 certain quick pleasantry in his mode of 
 narrating his story; nor a knowledge of 
 human intellect, if not of human hearts. 
 
 " The real story is this, if you want to- 
 know it. Maugniet and myself slept last 
 night at the hotel on the mountain. This 
 morning we started very early, with the 
 intention of walking about the mountains, 
 as Maugniet has undertaken to do some 
 Alpine sketches for my Highland cot- 
 tage. A little boy was to start with our 
 luncheon an hour before us ; but having
 
 OF A POLITICIAN, 105 
 
 wandered considerably from the path, we 
 arrived two hours after the time ap- 
 pointed. The silly child, after some argu- 
 ment with the lady of this house, arrived 
 at the conclusion that we should not coine 
 at all. He therefore took our basket back 
 again. What then was our dismay when, 
 on arriving here literally famishing with 
 hunger, we discovered ourselves without 
 a morsel of food, and in that philosophic 
 position where money is no more than 
 dross. Good fortune, however, seemed to 
 smile on us, when we perceived, in one 
 corner of the saloon, a hamper. It was 
 large, and evidently contained enough for 
 many mouths. Conscience, however, for- 
 bade our opening it. Curiosity on the 
 other hand bade me lift the lid. I did so. 
 The first object that greeted my eyes was 
 that flagon that Cuthbert bought at Bur- 
 ton's. I shouted or rather murmured, I
 
 106 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 never shout my discovery to Maugniet." 
 He, with that honesty which invariably 
 distinguishes him, began to cross-examine 
 the hostess as to the expected arrival of 
 the owners. 
 
 "They are to come at twelve," was the 
 reply. 
 
 " It only wants five minutes of that 
 hour," rejoined the conscientious Achille. 
 
 " Let us go and see if they are coming, 
 and beckon to them to accelerate their 
 footsteps." " Go thou thyself to them," 
 answered Dawnay. Maugniet went to 
 beckon. His comrade stayed to eat. 
 
 /'"Well how are you, Dawnay?" inquired 
 Beaconsfield, in testimony of his esteem, 
 and the restoration of his vital functions. 
 " What brings you here? I thought you 
 were still at Rome, eating porcupines and 
 studying art." 
 
 " Mais, oui," interrupted the French-
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 107 
 
 man, " il adore Part ce Dawnay Diable ! 
 Coddle, mon cher, donnes-moi ce petit 
 etui avec 1'air mignon que tu portes si 
 gentilment, dont 1'odeur ambre" rempli 
 mon ame, dont les feuilles brunies m'in- 
 cendient I'esprit. Coddie, un de tes petits 
 cigares. C'est n^cessaire. Je incurs 
 lion plus de faim. Je suffoque, je crapule. 
 Have you not heard of a miserable man, 
 drawn from the prison famishing, how he 
 eats too much and dies. For him a cigar 
 is the only remedy. Give me a cigar. 
 I have no more. Je n'ai plus de tabac 
 dans ma tabatiere. Oui c'est vrai,'' he 
 puffed ; " ce Dawnay est enrage pour 1'art. 
 C'est son existence, Diable ! et la mienne 
 
 aussi." 
 
 Maugniet had known the two cousins at 
 Rome. He was a protege* of Dawnay's. 
 Dawnay loved, or rather patronized art, 
 as young men do who talk measuredly,
 
 108 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 live largely, and affect the pleasures, the 
 occupations, and the vices of the older, the 
 wiser, and the wickeder. 
 
 Quietly knocking with his little finger 
 the ash from his cigar, Dawnay answered 
 the question put to him by Beaconsfield, 
 scarce noticing the interruption of his 
 companion. 
 
 " The fact is, some friends of mine I 
 wish particularly to see about my election 
 and one or two other matters are coming 
 to Italy. I was to have met them at Turin, 
 but hearing they were to come this road, I 
 determined to intercept them. I have been 
 waiting three days for them, and no one 
 has passed but that old noodle Burney, 
 whom they have just made a peer, Lord 
 something-or-other, with his puffy wife 
 and dolly daughters." 
 
 " They are great friends of mine, 
 Dawnay."
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 109 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! Well, they passed; and 
 tired of waiting any longer, I determined 
 to walk to Susa and wait there. Probably 
 they will pass immediately, now that I 
 have left." 
 
 " Are they friends of mine ? " asked 
 Beaconsfield, looking significantly. 
 
 " Yes, you know them." 
 
 " Well, then, we had better start as soon, 
 as you're ready," broke in Cuthbert, mind- 
 ful of his friend's anxiety to reach the 
 Burneys. The united parties started.
 
 110 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A SMALL EVENT. 
 
 As they walked on, each, as is the 
 custom of travellers walking down a 
 mountain, became absorbed in his own 
 thoughts. Cuthbert, left to himself, endea- 
 voured to analyze his feelings. Norah rose 
 naturally to his mind. Did he love Norah 
 as truly as he thought ? Yes, he loved her 
 truly. He looked, full of hope and happi- 
 ness, to the days he should spend devoted 
 to her service. Yes, he loved her. He
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. Ill 
 
 conjured up horrible visions of losing 
 her. If she died if, worse, she were lost 
 to him. He felt even at the bare idea the 
 blankness, the utter waste of the future. 
 Where would be the object for his exer- 
 tions, where the reward of his success. 
 Yes, he loved her. He thought of her 
 fairy form; her laughing, haunting eyes; 
 her smile, her smile so wonderfully bright. 
 
 Every line of that laughing gipsy 
 beauty was graven on his heart the deli- 
 cately-coloured cheek, the long, wild, 
 twisting curl. Yet, as the shade of evening 
 came, he could not quite banish from his 
 mind the features of that young girl 
 standing in the box behind Beaconsfield, 
 excited and awed by the actor's magic 
 power. 
 
 At length they reached the door of the 
 inn at Susa. There was the phaeton, and 
 the fourgon, the neat travelling carriage
 
 112 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 of Dawnay, and another carriage, and 
 still another larger than the rest, built 
 apparently for a family. Both bore 
 the coronet of an English earl; and 
 Cuthbert felt that the build of the 
 larger was not quite unfamiliar to his 
 eye. But fatigue soon mastered reflec- 
 tion.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 113 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 KINDKED. 
 
 CUTHBERT was up betimes the following 
 morning. Edward was still in bed, not- 
 withstanding his anxiety to reach Turin. 
 Three travelling carriages stood ready at 
 the door Dawnay's, and those which had 
 raised speculations the evening previous. 
 
 The door of a sitting room opened, and a 
 sickly -looking boy of about eleven, wrapped 
 in furs and cloaks, was carried out be- 
 tween two servants, and carefully placed in 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 a recumbent position on the bed seats of 
 the smaller carriage. 
 
 The door opened again, and two ladies 
 stepped out. Cuthbert instinctively drew 
 back to let them pass. They bowed 
 slightly to acknowledge the civility. Cuth- 
 bert removed his cap, and the two 
 ladies smiled with more kindness than is 
 usually characteristic of strangers. He re- 
 cognized the features of the elder lady. 
 They were those he had seen at the 
 theatre, and at the coachmaker's. They 
 were still fair, though the freshness of 
 youth was passed. The smile was kind. 
 It expressed feelings as kindly as were 
 consistent with the worldly features that 
 wore it. 
 
 But the face of the young girl by her 
 side, the face he had also seen at the 
 theatre, beamed looks almost of affection. 
 Those lips so finely cut could never smile
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 115 
 
 untruly. Honesty and gentleness were 
 well combined in that small classic head, 
 the calm, dark eye, and the delicate nostril. 
 . The groom begged Cuthbert to step to 
 the stables; one of the horses was slight- 
 lame. 
 
 On his return the carriages were gone. 
 
 Achille Maugniet stood there alone, 
 chafing. 
 
 " Ah ! Monsieur St. Elme, your friend 
 Monsieur le Baronet adores art, but he 
 takes not great care of its professors. 
 Ah ! my Lord 1'Irlandais, perhaps you 
 will kindly relieve the perplexity in which 
 I am placed by the great consideration of 
 your friend, who, having brought me all 
 the way from Rome, leaves me to find my 
 way home again from a wretched Alpine 
 village. Or, perhaps, all you English aris- 
 tocrats are ashamed of a poor* artist, when 
 you approach the paths of civilization." 
 
 i2
 
 116 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " Coine along, old fellow," interrupted 
 Beaconsfield "come along; no more hum- 
 bug of this kind. Of course we'll give 
 you a seat, drive in turn, and take in turn 
 a seat in the rumble. What's the matter? 
 Where's Dawnay gone to?" 
 
 " Oh ! he's gone off with his friends, Lord 
 and Lady Elmwood." 
 
 Edward looked at his cousin. They 
 did not speak for the moment, but as they 
 turned into the breakfast room, Cuddie 
 whispered, 
 
 " I wish I had heard their names from 
 you Edward, and not from a stranger."
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 117 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 AN OLD POLITICIAN. 
 
 LOUD ELMWOOD sat at breakfast in his 
 apartment at Florence, as cold and un- 
 principled a politician as ever oppressed a 
 people or insulted a sovereign. 
 
 He was tali and dark his black hair 
 but slightly touched by the bleaching 
 power of age. His manner was frank 
 and hearty. He had a smile for every 
 one. Most people casually accepted it and 
 respected his affability. But some saw
 
 118 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 a fox-like cunning beneath that air so 
 apparently so straightforward, an anxious 
 twinkle of that sunken eye, which belied 
 the assumption of offhand indifference. 
 
 He was out of office at the time, and 
 anxious only to regain a position held by 
 his ancestors, who looked on the public 
 money as an appanage. He had already 
 filled some of the highest offices with 
 some distinction amongst his own party. 
 He was an admirable administrator, direct- 
 ing his energies with success to a particu- 
 lar point; but from this very circumstance 
 failing as a politician. Long acquaintance 
 with affairs had reduced his mind to 
 a series of pigeon holes. He doubted his 
 own honesty and that of the world. 
 Consequently it was impossible for him 
 either to invent a great principle, or to 
 grasp a great and general scheme. His 
 was the spirit of a lawyer, seeking success
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 119 
 
 only in each particular trial, rather than 
 that of a judge laying down one broad 
 law of justice, and weighing the con- 
 sequences on future generations of any 
 one decision. His was essentially a 
 mind of detail, trusting to details for 
 power and for fame. He courted men 
 that they might individually assist his 
 wishes. He could not fearlessly chal- 
 lenge the criterion of the world by 
 a programme of feelings and of princi- 
 ples, even had he been capable of 
 such a production. Thus was he sus- 
 ceptible of every influence, however 
 contradictory. He was jealous and re- 
 sentful, but capable of suppressing the 
 feeling in the interest of his own ad- 
 vancement. His mind was ever ready 
 for retreat. Fear had infinitely more 
 power over him than either gratitude, 
 or even the hope of popularity. Yet
 
 120 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 he was popular, monstrously agreeable, 
 full of information, affable to his equals, 
 nay, even generous to the poor. 
 
 His wife partook much of his character. 
 She was rather weak in her intellectual 
 qualities, and very goodnatured. Her prin- 
 ciples were consequently easily warped 
 by her affections. She was devoted to 
 her husband, and like a good wife was 
 often the instrument of his intrigue. In 
 this as in every thing else she displayed 
 much tact and plasticity of character. 
 
 This was the pair who sat at breakfast. 
 Their son, for whose sake they had under- 
 taken the journey to the south of Europe, 
 lay coughing on a sofa. Edith their 
 daughter sat by his side working. Lady 
 Elmwood was reading some letters. Lord 
 Elmwood endeavouring to gather from 
 the local newspapers matters for his future 
 speeches.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 121 
 
 At length he spoke and nature lis- 
 tened. 
 
 " Well, Clara, you were going to tell 
 me something last night." 
 
 " Yes, I was." 
 
 " About young St. Elme, I believe." 
 
 Edith stopped her work to attend to 
 the conversation. 
 
 " Yes, Lord Elmwood, Edith and I 
 want to make his acquaintance." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh. You know I have always 
 steadily refused to have anything to say 
 to him. I have my reasons." 
 
 " I know you have. But really I can- 
 not see why your dislike for his father 
 should extend to the son. Besides, he 
 may be useful. Beaconsfield tells me that 
 his cousin Cuthbert is very clever, and 
 that he is to be brought in for Fenning- 
 ham." 
 
 Edith resumed her work. In her pre-
 
 122 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 sence the worldly couple did not scruple 
 to expose their motives. of action. But 
 she was ever wretched during these dis- 
 cussions. 
 
 " That alters the state of the case. But 
 Dawnay does not seem to think much of 
 the boy's ability." 
 
 " Sir Hugh Dawnay never speaks well 
 of any body," interrupted Edith. 
 
 " Edith thinks we ought certainly to 
 make a friend of him," continued the 
 mother. 
 
 Lord Elmwood had a high opinion of 
 his daughter's judgment, and stood some- 
 what in awe of her firmness and honesty 
 of purpose. 
 
 " And so do I," called out the boy from 
 his sofa. " He looked so kindly at me at 
 Susa. I am sure he would come and talk 
 to me here." 
 
 The parents looked at the poor child,
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 123 
 
 and their hearts melted. Then Edith 
 spoke. She spoke firmly and fearlessly, 
 like one whose opinion is founded on a 
 good foundation. 
 
 " Yes, papa, I think it only justice. He 
 is our cousin. He is not responsible for 
 any act by which his father may have 
 offended you. He is well educated and 
 gentlemanlike. He cannot disgrace 
 you." 
 
 Lord Elmwood gazed, wondering at his 
 daughter as she spoke. Such decision 
 of character was under any circumstances 
 extraordinary in one so young. For Lord 
 Elmwood it was astonishing in any 
 body. 
 
 But at length his face assumed the 
 usual worldly smile. He laughed that 
 laugh half cheery half dishonest a mix- 
 ture of the jackal and the dog. 
 
 " Well, if you're all against me, of
 
 124 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 course I must give in. Ask him to the 
 house when you like." 
 
 He spoke as from an impulse, but the 
 decision had been well though rapidly 
 calculated. 
 
 Cuthbert might be useful.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 125 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A TUENING POINT. 
 
 THE same evening there was a great 
 "ball at Florence. All the fashion of the 
 place was assembled. With it a goodly 
 show of English faces, fair complexions 
 and chestnut hair, to rival the dark beauties 
 of the sun. 
 
 The house was very beautiful, like 
 everything in that beautiful city, where 
 works gracing eternity lie scattered in the 
 streets as plentifully as plaster nymphs in 
 a Dutch garden.
 
 126 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 The design of the house is attributed 
 to Raphael. The saloons open on gardens 
 commanding a view of the whole town, 
 and filled winter and summer with those 
 richly scented flowers, the delight of north- 
 men, the poison of Italians. 
 
 The scene was sparkling, the music gay, 
 the dancers merry, the women beautiful. 
 
 But Cuthbert sat alone on a sofa, retired 
 from the circle. He had managed to es- 
 cape the eye of the kindly old lady, the mis- 
 tress of the revels, the grande dame who, 
 under many changes, under mighty re- 
 volutions, had preserved intact her gaiety, 
 her good humour, and her hospitality. To 
 his sensitive mind dancing was a profana- 
 tion to the love he bore for one far away 
 over the mountains and the waves. He 
 taught himself abstraction; and yielding 
 to the charms of music, he scarce listened 
 to the airs which, nevertheless, conjured
 
 OF A POLITICIAN 127 
 
 up for him pictures of love agreeably 
 precarious, and of ambition as pleasantly 
 successful. 
 
 There was one to whom he felt an 
 attraction, unaccountable in itself, arising 
 from a sentiment which in Italy he had 
 learnt to express by the term simpatia. 
 It was Burney, the son of the newly-made 
 peer, brother to the lady who had engaged 
 Beaconsfield's affections. He was like Daw- 
 nay rather, in the outward appearance of 
 manner, but very different in disposition. 
 Burney was calm by nature, Dawnay 
 by exertion. Burney's mind was, it may 
 almost be said, cultivated by nature. 
 Dawn ay's cultivation was acquired, affected, 
 and untrue. Burney was observant and 
 humorous, consequently at times almost 
 satirical. Dawnay was by nature un- 
 believing and depreciatory, therefore de- 
 lighting in the discovery of faults.
 
 128 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 Each had from nature one deficiency. 
 Dawnay perpetually laboured under the 
 dread of failure, from the uneasiness of 
 sustaining a part; Burney, from the un- 
 founded fear of ridicule, on account of 
 a lameness contracted from a childish 
 malady. 
 
 Cuthbert had not been long alone 
 when Burney quietly took a seat by his 
 side. 
 
 " You seem deserted, St. Elme." 
 
 Cuthbert started. In his reverie he 
 had not perceived the approach of his 
 acquaintance. 
 
 "Yes," he answered, "I like to be 
 a looker-on." 
 
 " Well, let us watch and criticise toge- 
 ther. Did you ever close your ears, 
 St. Elme, while people were dancing, and 
 observe the absurdity of their motions. 
 It is like stripping an actor of his tinsel.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 129 
 
 If you have never tried the experiment, 
 do so now." 
 
 They both closed their ears. 
 
 " Well, what do you think of them ? 
 To me they appear convulsive puppets. 
 Perhaps you think my misfortune makes 
 me bitter?" 
 
 Burney courted Cuthbert's friendship 
 and spoke abruptly. 
 
 Cuthbert needed but little courting. 
 Burney could give him authentic news of 
 Norah up to the latest date. Strange! 
 there was a link of sympathy between 
 them. Could any one know Norah and 
 not love her? Perhaps they both might 
 love the same woman. However, it was 
 Cuthbert's turn to speak. He must answer 
 Burney's question. 
 
 " No, I don't think you bitter," gently 
 he responded. " But it strikes me as 
 rather pretty, seeing them now with 
 
 VOL i. K
 
 130 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 the music. I think Edward dances so 
 well." 
 
 According to a courteous disposition of 
 continental ballrooms allhustlingis avoided 
 by a division of labour amidst the dancers. 
 
 I / 
 
 who each in turn take their innings. 
 
 The young Earl was dancing, as it was 
 his duty and his privilege, with the beau- 
 tiful but inanimate girl, who was probably 
 ere long to become the mistress of all his 
 lands. 
 
 Burney continued. He was not yet 
 sufficiently friendly with Cuthbert, to 
 withdraw any opinion advanced in his 
 capacity as a philosopher. 
 
 " You know probably an anecdote, 
 which I can't say I learnt classically, but 
 only from Bacon's Apothegms, of Dio- 
 genes, who said of a young man that 
 danced daintily and was much commended, 
 * the better the worse.' "
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 131 
 
 "But don't you recollect the saying 
 of Dr. Johnson, a much greater man in my 
 opinion than Diogenes : ' Some praise must 
 be allowed by the most supercilious ob- 
 server to him who does best what such 
 multitudes are contending to do well.' " 
 
 The conversation established their 
 friendship. Each was pleased by the 
 apparent aptness of his own quotation. 
 They were pedantic assuredly, but nearly 
 all young men who read at all are very 
 fo'nd of displaying their knowledge. 
 There is very little mean in young men 
 between pedantry and slang. They 
 modify with years; but it is a problem 
 which of the two extremes is preferable 
 for early life. 
 
 "Well, I hope my sister will come 
 away soon. I am afraid my father will be- 
 going soon, and I shall be left to chaperon 
 her till the early morn. However, luckily 
 
 K 2
 
 132 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 in these parts they do not tax the pa- 
 tience of us poor old people so late as 
 in London. But who are these people 
 coming?" 
 
 There was a pause as the dance came 
 to a close, and the lady of the house 
 advanced to receive some new comers: 
 Lady Elmwood and her daughter. The 
 Marchesa had insisted on Edith's coming. 
 " There were many young girls who danced 
 at her house," she said. " In Italy they 
 dance young. The Contessa must bring 
 the Signorina." 
 
 " Don't you wish to welcome your 
 relations?" asked Burney innocently. 
 
 " I don't know them," answered Cuth- 
 bert frankly, while he blushed at the 
 avowal. 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by 
 Edward, who came to them hastily.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 183 
 
 " Cuddle," lie said, " I want to speak 
 to you." 
 
 Burney abandoned his seat to his future 
 brother-in-law. 
 
 "Cuddie, Lady Elmwood and Edith 
 want you to be introduced to them." 
 
 Cuthbert saw them looking earnestly 
 towards him. 
 
 " No, Edward," he answered, " I 
 cannot." 
 
 " Oh! that's all nonsense." 
 
 " Not at all. Stop a minute I will 
 tell you what I think." 
 
 Edward took the seat he had not 
 yet assumed. 
 
 " Listen ! Until the other day I never 
 knew my story. I never knew how Lord 
 Elmwood had abandoned my father on 
 account of his marriage. I never knew 
 
 Cj 
 
 that I had been indebted all mv life
 
 134' PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 to Lord Elmwood's charity. I never 
 knew that in other respects he renounced 
 my relationship. I still recollect my 
 mother, Edward. I recollect her dear 
 face as though it were present now. I 
 have determined ever since I started 
 on this journey, on which your mother 
 insisted when she told me my history, 
 and for which she pays I have deter- 
 mined never to accept another sixpence 
 from my father's family. I will not 
 repudiate my mother, Edward. I will 
 not be under any further obligations 
 to them. No, I will try to work and 
 repay every sixpence I am indebted 
 to them. I am only sorry my ignorance 
 should have made the debt so large." 
 
 Cuthbert suddenly paused. The music 
 had ceased again, and his voice was too 
 loud for a ball-room. 
 
 Edward gazed at him in astonishment.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 135 
 
 Never had he seen in his cousin such an 
 amount of resolution. But the young lad 
 was practical in his ideas. 
 
 " Then how on earth are you to sit for 
 Fenningham?" 
 
 " Why, Edward, I shall work. I shall 
 go to the bar. I shall write. There is an 
 
 article of mine already in the 
 
 Magazine." 
 
 "Dans un si grand revers que vous reste-t-il ? 
 
 " Moi. 
 
 " Moi, dis-je, et c'est assez." 
 
 These lines rushed to his mind. He 
 might have recollected others. 
 
 " Oh vous done qui, brulant d'une ardeur perilleuse, 
 Courez du bel esprit la carriere epineuse." 
 
 They came practically to the practical 
 Beaconsfield. In his intercourse with 
 Dawnay, he had learnt to look well on 
 cynicism; under his bad advice he had 
 studied French philosophers, and with the
 
 136 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 best heart in the world gave vent to the 
 most atrocious sentiments. 
 
 " Well, Cuddie," he said, " as to money, 
 we can of course make all right. But as a 
 man of the world " the master of arts 
 twenty years of age expanded as he 
 spoke "as a man of the world, I think 
 you had better put such scruples into 
 your pocket, and look to the main chance. 
 Lord Elmwood is powerful and has heen 
 kind to you. You don't know his real 
 feelings." 
 
 Cuthbert shook his head pensively, 
 but decidedly. He grieved to reject the 
 proffered friendship of the young, earnest 
 girl who stood there, her eyes turning to 
 him constantly. He had never known 
 the happiness of a home. He longed to 
 call her cousin, to regard her as a sister. 
 But his honour was engaged, and his man- 
 ner was decided, while his heart struggled.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 137 
 
 But to the acute mind of the girl, that 
 struggle was scarcely disguised. The music 
 had again struck up ; but she had refused 
 all partners until she had spoken to her 
 cousin. She had been standing with her 
 mother, who was wondering at the length 
 of time since she had sent Lord Beacons- 
 field on his mission. With a sudden im- 
 pulse the girl came forward and stood by 
 Cuthbert's side. The action was adapted 
 to her years. 
 
 " How do you do, cousin Cuthbert," 
 she said winningly, as she gave him her 
 hand. " I am so glad to meet you at 
 last. This is my first ball; you must be 
 my first partner." 
 
 Cuthbert's heart throbbed as he rose. 
 
 He turned, and behind his sofa, in the 
 recess of a window, he beheld seated an 
 old man, leaning on his staiF and gazing in- 
 tently on the dancers. He had a bright
 
 138 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 piercing eye, and hair still of its natural 
 colour fell over his massive forehead. A 
 crutch lay against his chair. Could he un- 
 derstand English? Could he have heard 
 the conversation ? Cuthbert examined his 
 features for a moment. Unmoved they be- 
 trayed no consciousness. His mind seemed 
 absorbed in the scene before him. It was 
 Cuthbert's turn to dance. His mind and his 
 heart were easy at the unexpected solution 
 of his difficulties. In another moment he 
 was gladly whirling round, envied man ! 
 with his newly founr delation. 
 
 Perhaps, had he known the conversa- 
 tion of the morning, his doubt had been 
 increased, and with them his trust in the 
 
 love of women. 
 
 ***** 
 
 The dance was over, and he brought 
 his partner to her mother. 
 
 " You see, Lady Elm wood, I have been 
 dancing with, with"
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 139 
 
 " Edith," exclaimed the lady in the 
 same breath. 
 
 The seal was placed on the cousinhood. 
 ****** 
 
 " Come, let us go and find your papa." 
 
 Cuthbert resigned the arm of his 
 cousin. 
 
 " Will you not come with us?" asked 
 the girl timidly. 
 
 Cuthbert followed them. 
 
 Lord Elmwood stood in a corner of the 
 adjoining room, conversing withDawnay 
 and Lord Burnholme. 
 
 The latter first perceived the approval 
 of the ladies. 
 
 " Ah ! here is Lady Elmwood," he re- 
 marked " and Edith how she's grown ! 
 Surprising, 'pon my word. Who's that 
 with them 'pon my word, your nephew 
 Cuthbert no, not your nephew ah ! 
 your cousin. Monstrous clever young 
 fellow, 'pon my word! monstrous clever-'
 
 140 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 What a head he has ! Well, Lady Elm- 
 wood, how d'ye do how d'ye mon- 
 strous well you look, 'pon my word grow 
 younger every day. Lucky my lady's not 
 here, she'd be jealous ; she would 
 honour bright. Ha ! ha ! you see I've not 
 forgotten my gallantry. And Edith, your 
 younger sister eh, Lady Elmwood ho ! 
 ho! not so bad. And Cuthbert too how 
 are you, my dear boy ? Sly dog, always 
 making up to the ladies. Well, I was the 
 same at your age. 'Pon my word, I don't 
 know that I'm better even now very glad 
 to see you though. Quite an c honour to 
 talk to a wrangler.' " The fear of appearing 
 elated at his peerage, had rendered the old 
 man more jocose than ever. But his manner 
 had one good effect, it enabled the statesman 
 at once to gauge the position and estimation 
 of his relative. Not waiting for an intro- 
 duction, Lord Elmwood summoned up
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 141 
 
 his frankest smile, and grasping the boy's 
 hands with cordiality, expressed satisfac- 
 tion at the meeting. "You'll dine with us 
 to-morrow, I hope every day you're dis- 
 engaged." 
 
 Cuthbert bowed gravely, while Lord 
 Burnholme murmured, " Monstrous hos- 
 pitable, 'pon rny word. Wish I had an 
 uncle, and a handsome aunt, and a lovely 
 
 cousin."
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 AN OLD DIPLOMATIST. 
 
 BUT Cuthbert, while not rejecting the 
 proffered gift of friendship, persisted in 
 his intention of refusing any further pecu- 
 niary assistance from his father's family. 
 His object was to work for his livelihood, 
 little doubting his capability for action or 
 its consequent success. With Norah as 
 the goal, with youth and ability as instru- 
 ments, with powerful and wealthy friends 
 as accessories, the future lay outspread
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 143 
 
 before him, a golden ground of riches, high 
 position, and happiness. 
 
 Some days after his meeting with Edith 
 a party was projected for the purpose of 
 inspecting the wonders of Pisa. 
 
 The sights had been seen, the leaning 
 tower surmounted, the Campo Santo ex- 
 plored. The tourists, hungry after their 
 exertions, repaired to the hotel. Some 
 time must elapse, the landlord informed 
 them, ere a private dinner could be 
 served, but meanwhile the table d'h6te 
 was about to commence, and, strange to 
 say, there had appeared but one guest. 
 Would the milordi, therefore, object to 
 dine in the saloon ? The solitary guest 
 was a Russian noble, well known at 
 the court, and would not incommode 
 them. 
 
 " Well, I suppose we had better," an- 
 swered Lady Elmwood.
 
 144 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 "Yes! There's no harm in doing this 
 kind of thing occasionally," condescend- 
 ingly rejoined Dawnay. " For my part, 
 I think one picks up a good deal more 
 knowledge of the country this way than 
 by dining alone." 
 
 " Yes, you'll have a fine opportunity of 
 learning the customs and manners of 
 Italy to-day, Dawnay," suggested Burney, 
 " in the society of half a dozen English 
 ladies and gentlemen, and one Russian 
 nobleman, well known at the court." 
 
 " Well, the sooner you make up your 
 ininds the better," growled Edward. " I 
 think we had better sit down before the 
 soup gets cold." 
 
 Leading the way with the fair Burney, 
 the young Earl soon gave a practical illus- 
 tration of his sentiments. 
 
 The tavola rotonda in this case justi- 
 fied its designation. It was a round
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 145 
 
 table, and, as the landlord had declared, 
 for the moment occupied by only one 
 guest. 
 
 Cuthbert started on seeing him. A 
 crutch leant against the stranger's chair 
 on one side. A thick black stick reposed 
 between his knees. Cuthbert recognized 
 the Russian as the spectator who, at the 
 Florence ball, had sat ensconced in the 
 window during the conversation with 
 Lord Beaconsfield. 
 
 The stranger bowed on the entrance of 
 the ladies. Lord Elmwood appeared to 
 know him. They nodded to each other 
 familiarly across the table. 
 
 " I would offer to move, milord," said 
 the Russian, speaking French with all the 
 ease of his country " I would offer to 
 move ; but unfortunately, unless you ex- 
 clude me entirely, the shape of the table 
 renders it necessary for me to separate 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 your party somewhere. However, let me 
 consider myself as the zero at roulette, 
 surrounded by higher numbers, and only 
 valuable to the keeper of the table." 
 
 " On the contrary," rejoined the states- 
 man, " we consider ourselves fortunate in 
 meeting so agreeable a convive as Count 
 Barralevski." 
 
 " Yes, 'pon my word," suggested Lord 
 Burnholme, who felt called upon to say 
 something. 
 
 The party ranged themselves round. 
 Cuthbert sat to the left of the Russian. 
 Edith sat next to her cousin. Then came 
 Dawnay and the rest. Lady Elmwood 
 took up her position on the right of Mon- 
 sieur Barralevski. Next her came Lord 
 Burnholme ; and next to him Lord Elm- 
 wood, who, being out of office, and not 01 
 the same party as the newly-fledged peer, 
 lost no opportunity of making political
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 147 
 
 capital by improving his acquaintance 
 with a vote in both houses. 
 
 The dinner proceeded in comparative 
 silence. Cuthbert and his neighbours can- 
 vassed the beauties they had just inspected. 
 Beaconsfield and Miss Burney conversed 
 in whispers. Burney sat thinking. Daw- 
 nay discussed and criticised the dishes, 
 while the elders occupied themselves after 
 the manner of their kind in satisfying 
 the cravings of the inner man. 
 
 The party was civilized however as 
 regarded eating. The length usually 
 allotted to a table d'hote was therefore 
 much curtailed. The Russian ere long 
 made time to pay a few compliments to 
 Lady Elmwood, and Lord Burnholme 
 seized with avidity an outlying Galig- 
 nani, and soon found a cause for grum- 
 bling in the politics of the day. 
 
 " Ton my word, its too bad," he cried. 
 
 L2
 
 148 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 "Really, really, I don't know what we shall 
 
 come to. There's has been making 
 
 such an absurd speech to his constituents, 
 that it appears to me impossible to sup- 
 port him any longer." 
 
 " Ah ! yes, my Lord," laughed Lord 
 Elmwood. " You'll have to come to us 
 sooner than you expect." 
 
 " Why, 'pon my word, I don't see nowa- 
 days that there's much to choose between 
 you all." 
 
 Edward looked at Cuthbert and smiled. 
 " I think you will agree with Lord Burn- 
 holme, Cuthbert." 
 
 " Indeed," said Lord Elmwood, looking 
 surprised. He had already discovered 
 the influence exercised by his cousin 
 over the young peer, and saw in perspec- 
 tive another vote in both houses. 
 
 " Why, my young cousin," continued 
 the statesman, half-laughingly, " I hope
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 149 
 
 you do not abandon the old St. Elme 
 politics." 
 
 Cuthbert blushed. He was not yet 
 accustomed to speak his mind to his 
 elders, nor to feel comfortable under the 
 gaze of a whole dinner table. 
 
 Dawnay, however, was not inconve- 
 nienced by the same modesty. 
 
 " Don't be afraid, my Lord; I dare say 
 St. Elme will sedulously cultivate that side 
 on which he finds his bread is buttered." 
 
 Lord Elmwoocl laughed. Dawnay had 
 property in the same county, and was to 
 stand for the representation at the next 
 election. 
 
 " By Jove, you're too bad, Dawnay. If 
 you only knew as much of politics as 
 Cuddie, you'd know a good deal more 
 than I fancy you do know." 
 
 Cuddie blushed again. 
 
 " You see," said Mr. Burney quietly,
 
 150 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " Dawnay is by nature a second Talley- 
 rand, he always is so remarkably caustic 
 in his remarks." 
 
 " Well, 'pon my word, St. Elme, I shall 
 be very glad to hear that you do agree 
 with me. I should think you a great 
 acquisition to our party," goodnaturedly 
 growled Lord Burnholme. 
 
 Cuthbert felt that some observation was 
 required. 
 
 " Well, Lord Burnholme, I do agree with 
 you." 
 
 "Hear, hear; 'pon my word, that's 
 right; hear, hear." 
 
 "I agree with you," continued Cuthbert, 
 " that parties and principles are so mixed 
 that the only object of political men is place, 
 at least so it appears tome. And when I hear 
 a great leader profess ultra-popular princi- 
 ples and decry the power of the Crown, 
 I feel that he is ready to sacrifice both
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 151 
 
 his people and his sovereign to keep or 
 obtain power." 
 
 " Hear, hear, Cuthbert, "cried Lord Burn- 
 holme; "bravo the king and the people !" 
 
 " And what may be your opinion, Lord 
 Beaconsfield ?" inquired Lord Elmwood, 
 cringingly. 
 
 " Oh ! I stick by Cuddie, I've never 
 known him wrong yet." The young Earl 
 was strengthened in his faith by the 
 approving glances of the father-in-law 
 of his aspirations. 
 
 Lord Elmwood was silent, and the con- 
 versation became general. 
 
 " This place looks very gloomy," said 
 Edith to her neighbours. " Do a good 
 many people live here?" 
 
 " A good many," answered the Russian, 
 taking up his parable. Edith had spoken 
 in French. 
 
 "In Tuscany," continued the Count,
 
 152 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " the old municipal feeling runs high. 
 The provincial nobility make a metropolis 
 of their provincial capital. Every great 
 town boasts a palace and a local noblesse, 
 with houses they could not obtain at 
 Florence. The consequence is, that the 
 carnival at Pisa, Sienna, Lucca, and the 
 others cities, is by no means destitute of 
 amusement. I have sometimes known 
 this bank of the Arno, deserted as it looks 
 at present, swarming with carriages and 
 with pedestrians." 
 
 " It seems very beautiful, notwithstand- 
 ing the deserted look,' 7 replied Edith. 
 
 " It is indeed beautiful. Pisa is at some 
 moments my favorite city. But Milady 
 Edith is not yet old enough to understand 
 the benefit of repose." 
 P " You do not render me justice, Mon- 
 sieur de Barralevski." 
 
 Cuthbert smiled kindly on her.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 153 
 
 " I think I should like Pisa, Edith, if 
 I were alone." 
 
 The Eussian looked sadly on them 
 both. 
 
 "I am alone," he said. "I come here 
 when I wish to enjoy my loneliness. 
 Here I find peace." 
 
 The young pair were inexpressibly 
 touched by the manner of the solitary 
 man. The Russian gathered their feelings 
 from their silence. He seemed gifted 
 with an intuition almost supernatural, 
 that sharpened refined perception generally 
 the gift of women or of men accustomed 
 to encounter the subtlest motives of im- 
 portant actions. 
 
 " It is not fair however to force the 
 gloom of age on the spirits of youth. 
 If Lady Elmwood will entrust you to 
 my chaperonage for a short time, and 
 if you will accept an old cripple as
 
 154 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 a Cicerone, I will endeavour to point out 
 to you the principal beauties of living 
 Arno. I cannot however undertake more 
 than two," he added anxiously, " unless 
 Lord Beaconsfield should wish to join us, 
 or Miss Burney. 
 
 "Ah! Monsieur," interrupted Dawnay 
 in French, with an affectation of purity in 
 idiom and in accent, "you secure to 
 yourself, I see, the two youngest ladies 
 for your audience." 
 
 " Monsieur, I perceive, has acute per- 
 ception and much knowledge of the 
 world," calmly replied the Russian. 
 
 The party was soon settled. The 
 elders were glad to obtain a moment's 
 repose. Dawnay, with ulterior views, 
 affected the society of Lord Elmwood, 
 and Burney had already disappeared to 
 write a letter. 
 
 And surely seldom had travellers en-
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 155 
 
 joyed the reveries of such a guide. As 
 the little group wandered slowly towards 
 the western bridge, they passed no build- 
 ing, no corner, no stone, that was not 
 suggestive to their new friend of some 
 legend, tradition, or historical association. 
 He spoke of the ancients as of familiar 
 acquaintances. The gossip of history, the 
 anecdotes of courts, the topography of 
 conspiracies, were at his fingers' ends. 
 Here Byron had mourned and sung ; 
 there Appiani had murdered his master. 
 It was indeed conversation, a conversation 
 with the Russian. His language was 
 fluent his sentences replete with unaf- 
 fected poetry and nervous, quaint illustra- 
 tion. And while deeply read in the works 
 of men, he was no stranger to that great 
 commentary, the book of man himself. 
 Experience had taught him to fathom a 
 character, or unravel an intrigue. It
 
 156 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 mattered little the age or the hero that 
 called forth the power of his mind. 
 
 So they moved slowly onward. Even 
 Beacon sfield and his companion were lured 
 from the contemplation of each other. 
 
 At length they arrived at the western 
 bridge, leading to the sea. It was s.unset. 
 
 " This is the sight I purposely designed 
 for the last," said the Russian. " Your 
 great countryman, Lord Byron, declared 
 the sunset from this point the most beau- 
 tiful he had ever witnessed. You English 
 are lovers of nature. Do you not concur 
 in his opinion ?" 
 
 The little group stood in silence. Even 
 Beaconsfield was hushed by the calm 
 scene before him. Voltaire says that there 
 is no nation on the earth where love has 
 not rendered lovers poets. Edward even 
 lelt the refining influence of his position. 
 
 The Russian was leaning on the arm of
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 157 
 
 Cuthbert. The view appeared to have 
 on him a singular effect. He seemed to 
 gasp for breath, and the young man felt 
 the beating of his heart. 
 
 Edith stood on the other side. They 
 both heard him murmur. 
 
 " II sol tace. Once more alone." 
 
 They were moved, but astonished. The 
 outburst of feeling was strange in one 
 who to all appearance possessed a greater 
 than ordinary share of the personal cau- 
 tion and reserve of his nation. a 
 
 But the scene was very beautiful as 
 the great light disappeared, leaving a 
 burning trace. Then the moon stood in 
 the heavens alone. All was so still, so 
 calm. 
 
 " And how can any one abandon Italy, 
 or seek for another residence ?" murmured 
 Edith. 
 
 "Yet there are some,'' continued Cuth-
 
 158 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 bert, " who die for regions where beauty 
 consists in mountain peaks covered with 
 eternal snow, for a home which at any 
 moment may be crushed in an avalanche." 
 
 " Yet are you not one of these, Mr. St. 
 Elme?" asked the Russian. "Do you 
 not pant for your northern home ? Do 
 you not covet the highest peaks of ambi- 
 tion, covered with eternal snow, the fame 
 that can in a moment be smothered in an 
 avalanche? Are not these your aspira- 
 tions ? Would you exchange them for a 
 home in this dreary city, whose only gift 
 is peace ?" 
 
 " Not now," said Cuthbert, " not now. 
 As a boy, my dreams were calmer. My 
 future hopes were but for a happy home. 
 Education, the world, have changed me. 
 I long for peace, but the peace conquered 
 by a struggle."
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 159 
 
 " Perhaps you will make a solitude." 
 
 They turned to leave the spot. Edith 
 dropped a scarf. Cuthbert stooped to 
 restore it. As he stretched his hand a 
 ray of light fell on a ring. It was one of 
 those old-fashioned rings on which much 
 gold has been expended, a solid, heavy, 
 ungainly setting for an engraven amethyst 
 or cornelian of comparatively small value. 
 
 " I never noticed that ring before, 
 Cuthbert," said the girl. 
 
 Cuthbert took it from his finger and 
 handed it for examination to his cousin. 
 
 The eye of the Russian fell upon the 
 jewel. A sudden pallor covered his sallow 
 cheeks. It was perceptible even in the 
 faint moonlight. 
 
 "May I see that ring?" he asked, ab- 
 ruptly. 
 
 Edith gave it him.
 
 160 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 The Russian took it. As he examined 
 it closely, his companions could see how 
 hard was the struggle with his feelings. 
 
 At length the inspection was over, and 
 his young companions were astonished at 
 the calm, unimpassioned voice with which 
 the ring was returned. 
 
 " Your ring is in many respects similar 
 to one which belonged to a very dear 
 friend of mine, connected in my mind 
 with many painful recollections. I see 
 the difference, however, and beg you to 
 forgive my abruptness." 
 
 The statement was sufficient to account 
 for the sudden emotion, although the 
 answer committed the speaker to nothing. 
 Yet he was evidently disturbed. 
 
 " Those rings were very common in my 
 youth, 5 ' he continued. " They were much 
 the fashion in England, and were imitated 
 from some rings made by the French
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 161 
 
 emigres. Some of them opened by a 
 spring. I did not take the liberty of 
 trying yours, lest it should contain a 
 treasure forbidden to profane eyes." The 
 Russian tried to smile, but the effort was 
 not natural. 
 
 Guthbert at once opened the ring. It 
 contained a lock of hair and a cypher. 
 The pallor returned for a moment, but for 
 a moment only. The Russian bowed ac- 
 knowledgment. 
 
 "I value this ring, Edith," said the 
 young man, "beyond everything I pos- 
 sess. It was my mother's." 
 
 " Indeed !" answered the Russian, evi- 
 dently anxious to remove any impression 
 caused by the little incident. He conti- 
 nued: 
 
 " I am in rather a strange position for 
 an old diplomate in begging you, my 
 young friends, to think nothing more of 
 
 VOL, i. M
 
 162 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 this circumstance. I feel I am safe with. 
 you, however. 
 
 " Events often occur in a lifetime, the 
 sudden recollection of which occasions 
 more pain than the circumstances them- 
 selves. However, here we are at our 
 hotel, and I must beg Mr. St. Elme to be 
 good enough to call my servant. These 
 Italian stairs are too steep for me. I am 
 forced to have recourse to a chair, and the 
 brawny arms of strong porters." 
 
 Cuthbert ran hastily forward to comply 
 with the request. He felt a strong attrac- 
 tion to the old man, and a desire to culti- 
 vate his friendship. 
 
 "Did your cousin, then, love his 
 mother very much?" asked the Kussian 
 of Edith, who remained with him, reluc- 
 tant to leave the open air. 
 
 " She died when he was quite a child. 
 But his feelings are very strong, and he
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 163 
 
 retains for her memory an attachment 
 that may almost be called romantic." 
 
 " I must thank you for the pleasure of 
 your society," continued the Count. " I 
 trust you are satisfied with your Cicerone, 
 and will recommend him to your noble 
 friends." 
 
 " Unless we can keep him all to our- 
 selves," answered Edith, with a coquetterie 
 not out of place between a very young 
 girl and -a man old enough to be her 
 grandfather. 
 
 M 2
 
 164 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 AN EVENING AT FIESOLE. 
 
 A VEET short time had been sufficient to 
 ripen the friendship between the cousins. 
 
 The young unsullied heart of Edith was 
 soon unfolded to the knowledge of the 
 wiser Cuthbert. For her the youth had 
 likewise few secrets. The womanly in- 
 stinct of the girl had soon divined his few 
 mysteries. She soon had learnt every turn 
 and every development of his friendship, 
 his ambition, and his love.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 165 
 
 And to Cuthbert there was a charm in 
 the confidence. With the egotism of 
 man he loved to pour out his whole selfish 
 soul, the hopes and aspirations converging 
 in that centre himself. He loved to find 
 an ever-patient confidant, a never-tiring 
 listener, ready at a moment's notice to re- 
 ceive the long narrative of trifles, to sym- 
 pathize and to offer sweet counsel. 
 
 To Edith the position offered the charm 
 of novelty. Hitherto her home-charity 
 had been circumscribed to the sickly boy 
 whom nature had bestowed in the capa- 
 city of a brother. Him she tended with 
 never-ceasing care. But there was little 
 in him to call forth any of her higher or 
 nobler feelings. She read to him in- 
 deed, and listened to complaints respecting 
 broth, or discussions on the comparative 
 merits of medicines. In this there was 
 little to engage the heart or flatter the
 
 166 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 mind. With Cuthbert the case was dif- 
 ferent. His ability was acknowledged, 
 his confidence therefore a valuable ho- 
 mage. 
 
 Not many days had elapsed since the 
 excursion to Pisa, when the party was 
 assembled at Lord Burnholme's villa at 
 Fiesole. Lord Elinwood was reading a 
 journal. Dawnay was playing ecarte 
 with the younger Burney. 
 
 " Well, Julia, how did you like your 
 walk? Ton my word, you've quite a 
 colour ! " 
 
 " Charming, papa !" 
 
 The answer seemed to delight Lord 
 Beaconsfield, who hailed the wit of his 
 intended. 
 
 "I hope you have not caught cold, 
 Edith," asked Lady Elmwood ; "it is 
 very dangerous to be out in this country 
 while the sun is setting."
 
 Off A POLITICIAN. 167 
 
 " Yes ;" interrupted Dawnay, " as Lord 
 Chesterfield, the immortal Chesterfield, 
 lays down the law 
 
 ' The dews of the evening most carefully shun, 
 Those tears of the sky for the loss of the sun.' " 
 
 The subject firing the young baronet 
 he offered Lady Edith a chair with inef- 
 fable grace. 
 
 "Do you know, papa," she began, 
 " Cuthbert and I have been talking of 
 your friend Count Barralevski ? He is a 
 wonderful man. He seems to know every- 
 thing, and talks of all he knows so kindly." 
 
 Dawnay stretched himself out, as though 
 a man of the same calibre. 
 
 " I agree with you, Edith," answered 
 the statesman ; " he is a wonderful man, 
 and as mysterious as he is learned. I 
 met him first at Lisbon, then at Dresden. 
 He was always lame, always in bad
 
 168 PASSAGES IN THE LUTE 
 
 health. He was some time Russian mi- 
 nister in Persia, I think; nay, it may have 
 been China, as far as I recollect." 
 
 " What is he doing at Florence does 
 he reside in Italy? He seems to know it 
 thoroughly." 
 
 " Why, the Russians have no regular 
 agents in Tuscany; and they declare at 
 Florence thatBarralevski is a secret agent." 
 
 " In other words, a spy," said Dawnay. 
 
 " Ton my word you're too bad too bad, 
 'pon my word," chuckled Lord Burnholme. 
 
 " That is a hard word," continued Lord 
 Elmwood. 
 
 " Don't you think, my Lord," inquired 
 Dawnay, " that the present state of our 
 
 relations with Russia. 5 ' 
 
 # * # # # 
 
 Lord Beaconsfield judiciously opened 
 the door leading into the garden, and 
 emerged with Julia Burney.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 169 
 
 Cuthbert followed with his cousin. 
 
 They walked towards a small kiosk or 
 belvidere, commanding an extensive pros- 
 pect. Such a pavilion, designated an 
 ombrettino, adorns most villa gardens in the 
 neighbourhood of Florence. 
 
 They stand at Fiesole. Here on one 
 side is the villa where Boccacio lived and 
 wrote. There another, where Lorenzo 
 and his band of Platonists would breathe 
 the fragrant air, muse, dream, and specu- 
 late. " They were superior perhaps," said a 
 French philosopher, " to the vaunted sages 
 of Greece." 
 
 And poets likewise dwelt here to sing, 
 or vie in doing the honours of the spot, 
 or playfully contend for the superiority of 
 their vintage.* 
 
 * See Politian's letter to Ticino, inRoscoe's "Life 
 of Lorenzo."
 
 170 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 There above Fra Angelico's inspired 
 hand reproduced the holy men of his re- 
 ligion. 
 
 And Fiesole is indeed worthy an artist's 
 thoughts. 
 
 The peaked hills, surrounded by valleys 
 of indescribable beauty, look over the 
 city of Florence, its dome towering like 
 a giant in the midst. There in its basin, 
 covered with that mist, half cloud half 
 light, the characteristic of a southern at- 
 mosphere, lies the city appearing like a 
 town reflected in the water, some fata 
 morgana or Egyptian mirage, rather than 
 solid masonry. 
 
 " Of all the fairest cities of the earth, 
 None is so fair as Florence." 
 
 Edith remained alone with her cousin. 
 The lovers were fully employed in the 
 duties of their profession.
 
 or A POLITICIAN. 171 
 
 " How calm, how peaceful," she ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 "How calm, how peaceful," was his- 
 scarce audible reply. 
 
 " One feels on an evening like this," he 
 continued, " as though floating on some 
 slowly-running river, gently floating, 
 without obstacle or exertion, without 
 thought or feeling but for the soft ripples 
 of the stream." 
 
 " But the beauty is almost oppressive. 
 It is too calm." 
 
 " Yes, there is a line of Horace always 
 recurring to my mind : 
 
 ' Ipsa felicitas, se nisi temperat, premit.' 
 Like the flowers of the country whose 
 rich scent is overpowering to the Italian, 
 approaching them too nearly." 
 
 Then he spoke of other scenery, countries 
 that he had seen and read of, the tropic 
 luxuriance of Chinese cities, and American
 
 172 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 vastness. He spoke of the mighty Hudson, 
 and of the Catskill, as, " deep in its solemn 
 mountain forests, its lightning leaps and 
 the echo of its wrathful roar surges and 
 booms among the hills, and dashes far up 
 the cliffs and dark hemlock slopes, and 
 crashes over the gurgling brooks."* He 
 spoke with an eloquence that enthralled 
 his hearer. 
 
 " That is awful," he concluded. " The 
 mind feels fear at the sight or description 
 of those grandiose falls. Here all seems 
 peace." 
 
 "But still," said Edith, "the mind is 
 not entirely satisfied. We feel we cannot 
 gaze for ever." 
 
 " * Medio de fonte leporum 
 Surgit arnari aliquid quod in ipsis floribus angat.' " 
 
 They turned startled at the voice behind 
 them. The Russian was leaning on his 
 
 * Curtis.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 173 
 
 crutch. He continued : " Peace ! Yet 
 there have been committed in these 
 peaceful scenes more crimes than perhaps 
 in any other equal space. Peace! In 
 that villa was planned a conspiracy the 
 most diaholical ever concocted ; that other 
 yonder was chosen for its execution. Peace ! 
 In every other alley, in every house constant 
 plots are hatching. Yes, to you, young 
 poets, the still balmy air breathes peace; 
 but for me, alas! I perceive the alloy 
 more clearly than the purer metal. Above 
 all those hills glittering in the moonlight, 
 far louder than the twittering birds, I see 
 the gaunt forms and the hoarse voices of 
 human passion and its dark companions. 
 See, see," he continued, " how one moment 
 can change your peace, your calm. A 
 vapour envelopes the planet, whose rays 
 lend the chief enchantment to the view. 
 And all is dark. Darkness should be the 
 wish of man. The night cometh when
 
 174 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 no man can work. But to the weary it 
 brings rest. Who is not weary? The 
 night, though it cover much of good, 
 hides more of evil." 
 
 The voice of Lady Elmwood sum- 
 moned her daughter. 
 
 "Pardon me, M. St. Elme; I had for- 
 gotten a commission," said the Russian, 
 resuming his natural tone of voice. 
 
 " I called on you this evening. Your 
 servant told me you had left for Fiesole, 
 and begged me to give you, if I were 
 coming hither, two letters that had arrived 
 after your departure." 
 
 " Many thanks. I am sorry you have 
 had so much trouble." 
 
 Cuthbert approached the candle to read 
 his correspondence. 
 
 The first letter he opened was one 
 directed in the hand of Norah. The
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 175 
 
 moment, perhaps, was not favourable to 
 the perusal. As he read it an unpleasant 
 sensation took possession of him. The 
 letter was neither short nor cold in its 
 expressions. There were, as heretofore, 
 epithets of fondness and declarations of 
 devotion. But through the whole letter 
 there was perceptible the levity and shal- 
 lowness of the writer. Current matters 
 were the staple commodity. Protestations 
 were inserted only in parentheses. Doubts 
 that had arisen on the mind of Cuthbert 
 were answered with a jest or a single 
 negative. There was a total absence 
 of the interest engendered by strong 
 attachment and attracting confidence and 
 reliance. 
 
 Cuthbert turned mechanically to the 
 second letter. It was in the form almost 
 of a bill, folded without an envelope and
 
 176 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 wafered. Cutting round the fastening with 
 as much delicacy as could be expended on 
 a love letter Cuthbert read : 
 
 "Sir, The time has arrived for me 
 to fulfil a trust bequeathed to me by 
 my late friend, your grandfather, Mr. 
 William Mordaunt. 
 
 " You are doubtless no stranger to the 
 melancholy circumstances of his failure 
 and death, which took place on the conti- 
 nent. After full payment of his creditors, 
 a sum of money remained to the late Mr. 
 Mordaunt, not large in itself, but sufficient 
 to maintain one person in moderate com- 
 fort. This he entrusted to my hands 
 for your future benefit, under the fol- 
 lowing conditions. 
 
 " Learning the fact that Lord Elmwood 
 had undertaken the care of your education, 
 Mr. Mordaunt desired that the capital
 
 OP A POLITICIAN. 177 
 
 sum thus bequeathed to me in trust for 
 you should remain at compound interest 
 until such a time as you were preparing 
 to enter the world. He did this with the 
 object of increasing the income ultimately 
 to be obtained from his legacy, by relieving 
 it of any educational expenses which 
 Lord Elmwood might justly have charged 
 on any property in your possession. The 
 capital sum now amounts to nine thousand 
 six hundred pounds, which having at 
 different times been advantageously in- 
 vested in the Russian six per cents, yields 
 an annual income of about six hundred 
 pounds. 
 
 " You will receive the necessary papers 
 on application to Messrs. Lennard and 
 Gledd, Bedford Row. 
 
 " Having thus fulfilled my trust, I 
 beg to remain, my dear sir, yours, &c." 
 
 VOL. i. N
 
 178 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 But the signature, though apparently 
 plain, was utterly illegible. A series 
 of dark straight strokes, not one could 
 be distinguished from the other. The 
 writing of the whole letter was peculiar. 
 The signature, of a totally different cha- 
 racter, gave no clue to the name and the 
 date. London afforded no means of 
 tracing the writer. 
 
 Cuthbert doubling down the document 
 endeavoured to obtain some solution to 
 his doubts, but in vain. 
 
 " Ask Barralevski," said Lord Elmwood. 
 " I recollect he used to be a famous hand 
 at deciphering the Cuniform of Pozzo 
 di Borgo." 
 
 The Eussian was conversing gaily with 
 Edith and Miss Burney. Cuthbert inter- 
 rupted him with a request to explain to 
 him the signature. The Count turned round 
 and examined the writing.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 
 
 " No," he said, playing with his glasses, 
 which he had brought to bear on the 
 object " no ; it looks to mo like Julius 
 Cassar. A gentleman of that name I 
 think lived in the time of Elizabeth; 
 and blunderers are often puzzled in find" 
 ing the author of the ' Commentaries ' oc- 
 cupying a place at the revels of the 
 Virgin Queen." 
 
 " 'Pon my word, so it does. Very odd 
 ha, ha! Ton my word most extraor- 
 dinary monstrous odd, indeed. So it 
 must be Julius Caesar." 
 
 N 2
 
 <180 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 8IMPATIA. 
 
 IT was getting late, and the party 
 prepared to separate. Cuthbert had been 
 silent since the arrival of his letter. He 
 intended to show it to Beaconsfield, whose 
 advice was excellent in business matters. 
 He was inclined to tell Edith of it, that 
 she might sympathize with him. He re- 
 solved to tell Lord Elmwood of it, that 
 the sum advanced to his youth might be 
 repaid at the outset of his manhood,
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 181 
 
 And this, yes, this exquisite delight was 
 owing to his mother and her family. 
 This independence, this foundation of his 
 fortunes, was owing to the Pariah, affection 
 for whom had been sufficient to alienate a 
 generation, until by a life of suffering and 
 a death of release she had expiated 
 the fault of loving one slightly above 
 her station. 
 
 All were astonished. None had ever 
 seen Cuthbert In such spirits. He joked 
 heartily, and laughed heartily at the jokes 
 of others. Life was pleasant to him. 
 Whatever his future fate, henceforth he 
 could stand alone. 
 
 Then of a sudden his ideas underwent a 
 revolution. He longed for a confidant, but 
 a confidant of a high order. A feeling 
 of delicacy prevented his blurting to the 
 world his good fortune, and conflicting 
 feelings conjured up in regard to each of
 
 182 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 his companions' disqualifications for the 
 office of confidant. It was the first incon- 
 venience of increased wealth. All would 
 know the fact in the course of a few 
 hours, but to whom could he first an- 
 nounce it? 
 
 There is something in our nature tend- 
 ing to magnify the importance of personal 
 events. It is the result of individuality, 
 our first impulsive untutored feeling. 
 Comparison and synthesis, the qualities of 
 education, are banished in those moments 
 of strong human emotion, when nature 
 predominates over art. Thus in sleep the 
 incongruity of dreams arises from the 
 temporary deposition of our educated 
 powers. The first outbursts of joy or of 
 grief are subject to the same influences. 
 As the sentiment subsides, reflection modi- 
 fies our views of the cause sometimes 
 for the better, sometimes for the worse.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 183 
 
 Our joy may be diminished by envy at 
 the greater success of others comparison 
 under the form of detraction. Grief may 
 be softened by the recollection of the 
 greater misfortunes of our neighbours 
 comparison under the form of optimism. 
 But the first action of pure native feeling 
 recoils not only from our own artificial 
 powers, but from the contact with those 
 powers in others; unless, indeed, when 
 companion minds have reached that high 
 degree of civilization, refinement, and tact, 
 where art is developed by self- extinction. 
 
 Such was the instinctive feeling of 
 Cuthbert on receiving the intelligence 
 contained in his letter. He scarce knew 
 where to turn for a sympathizing heart. 
 The elder people of his party were of 
 course out of the question. But among 
 the younger, to whom could he appeal? 
 
 Edward, prosaic by nature, and his mind
 
 184 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 absorbed in the fair Julia, could not appre- 
 ciate the full extent of his joy. His capa- 
 city for congratulation would be limited 
 to the actual sum in Russia stock. To 
 Dawnay, the large landed proprietor, the 
 comparative exiquity of the sum were 
 matter for sneer. With Burney he was 
 not yet entirely at ease. And Edith ? 
 But how could he expect her full sym- 
 pathy, when one of the principal causes 
 for happiness was the relief from obliga- 
 tion to her father ? 
 
 There was one indeed present to whom 
 he turned his heart and inclinations. 
 Involuntarily the idea of Barralevski came 
 to his thoughts. 
 
 There was something inexplicably attrac- 
 tive to Cuthbert in all the accessories of 
 the stranger a certain affinity in their dis- 
 positions. When alone with Edith and 
 himself, the Russian had appeared far dif-
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 185 
 
 ferent from the courtier which the world 
 considered him. With them he had 
 entirely laid aside the cold polish of his 
 ordinary demeanor. With them there 
 was no assumed sarcasm, no strife for bril- 
 liancy. To them he opened his mind, if 
 not his history. With them the actor 
 seemed to find repose. As in a moment's 
 silence such thoughts rushed through the 
 young man's mind,the Russian approached 
 him with the noiseless gait he usually 
 adopted to conceal his lameness, if not 
 from the eye, at least from the ear. 
 
 "It is a fine night, Mr. St. Elme," he 
 said. " Instead of shutting yourself up in 
 Lord Beaconsfield's close coupe, can I 
 give you a seat in the phaeton, which my 
 Anglo-manie has induced me for some 
 years to adopt?" 
 
 The tone of his voice fell pleasantly on 
 Cuthbert's ear.
 
 186 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " Thanks, with pleasure," replied St. 
 Elme. " Dawnay came with us, so I shall 
 deprive Beaconsfield only of a bodkin, 
 not of a companion." 
 
 So the party broke up.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 187 
 
 CHAPTER XXI7. 
 
 A CONFIDANT. 
 
 " You know the world so well," began 
 Cuthbert. 
 
 " I have travelled so much," answered 
 the Russian, " no wonder, I should know 
 a little of the world, and perhaps of its 
 inhabitants." 
 
 " And what form of government do you 
 prefer ?" 
 
 " The form best suited to the happiness 
 of the people governed."
 
 188 PASSAGES IN TfiE LITE 
 
 Cuthbert could scarce forbear smil- 
 ing. 
 
 " You think I am evading your ques- 
 tion," continued the Russian. " Far from 
 it. I am convinced tbat forms of govern- 
 ment are tbe gift of Providence. In 
 successful monarchies I believe in tbe 
 divine rigbt of kings. In democracies in 
 the divine rigbt of tbe plebs. For my 
 part I cannot worship tbe latter divinity. 
 At tbe same time I consider as worse than 
 a parricide the man who, to carry out a 
 theory, endeavours to subvert any long- 
 existing form of government, however 
 beneficial tbe result of the revolu- 
 tion." 
 
 " But what do you tbink of our English 
 constitution?" 
 
 " Feasible only in % your island. With 
 your ancient customs and modern im- 
 provements, your prescriptive rights and
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 189 
 
 statute law, frontier countries would 
 deluge you with] theories and with mal- 
 contents till you would have to make a 
 clean sweep, establish a code, and declare 
 the basis of your government. As it is, 
 you are nondescripts, rather aristocratic 
 than otherwise. You have liberties indeed, 
 but liberties debarring you from privileges 
 accorded in less free countries even to 
 those labouring under disabilities. You 
 have large^incomes, bringing but little 
 pleasure. You have much virtue, but great 
 crimes; no manners, but large preten- 
 sions; profound learning, but utter igno- 
 rance. Yet you are admirable. You roll 
 through space, increasing as you go, over- 
 riding and crushing all you approach. 
 Every body, even without liking you, 
 respects you. If I were not a Russian, I 
 would be an Englishman." 
 
 " Thank you for the avowal," answered
 
 190 
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 Cuthbert, rather nettled at the deprecia- 
 tory tone of his companion. 
 
 " But for my part," continued the latter, 
 " a despotism" 
 
 "Limited, as Talleyrand said, by assassi- 
 nation." 
 
 " My dear young friend, beware of 
 Monsieur Dawnay." 
 
 Cuthbert smiled. 
 
 "But to return to England is there 
 any fault to find with our institutions, 
 as against the spirit of the country, or 
 the well being of its people ?" 
 
 " Happily for you, none beyond the 
 power of statesmanlike remedy." 
 
 " The crying evil I consider to be, the 
 absence of power on the part of the 
 crown." 
 
 "'You have reason on your side," 
 answered the Russian. "The tendency of 
 your politics has always been to limit the
 
 OP A POLITICIAN. 191 
 
 power, nay to wound the feelings, of your 
 sovereign. 
 
 " The power and influence of the crown 
 in England is unfortunately the most 
 limited when apparently the least fettered, 
 consequently only oblique in its preva- 
 lence want of funds precluding any 
 benefits for favourites. The seclusion re- 
 moves all chance of influencing society. 
 Chance must furnish it with instruments. 
 The sovereign in England is confined in 
 his election of those it may be his wish to 
 protect, whilst in other countries he is 
 embarrassed by the number of candi- 
 dates. Your sovereign is surrounded 
 by many with whom he can have no 
 sympathy. He is powerless in the distri- 
 bution of gifts distributed in his name. 
 His displeasure takes effect only on indi- 
 vidual minds. His sympathy is engaged 
 perhaps by those not calculated to draw
 
 192 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 out his best feelings, men and women 
 not qualified as objects of sincere and 
 lasting affection. The recipient of his 
 friendship gathers therefrom no social or 
 .political success. His displeasure creates 
 no social nor political disgrace. Some 
 take pleasure in thwarting his objects, of 
 representing him as the cause of their own 
 shortcomings. He has no opportunity of 
 revealing his real motives, of explaining 
 his share in acts that render him unpopu- 
 lar. He is often the scapegoat of his 
 ministers responsible to public feeling, 
 while nominally irresponsible to public 
 laws. Even with his friends he is pre- 
 cluded from making a confidant. He 
 may have no predilection, scarcely a prin- 
 ciple. He is a convenient sacrifice to 
 the ambition of others. Doubtless a 
 person in his position must possess some 
 power, and exercise some influence. But
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 193 
 
 that influence is one not only undefined, 
 but of a nature so changeable, so indi- 
 vidual, that what may be predicated 
 under one monarch, is totally inappli- 
 cable to the influence of his prede- 
 cessor and successor. In this, however 
 minute, there exists much more danger 
 to the state than in any direct and tangi- 
 ble power, however great. It is more 
 liable to abuse than despotism, less illus- 
 trious, consequently less pleasing to its 
 possessor. 
 
 "lean imagine no position so painful 
 or so difficult as that of an English 
 sovereign. His position as a constitu- 
 tional sovereign isolates him with a double 
 portion of the isolation discussed by 
 Montaigne as the lot of kings. It is 
 with difficulty he can see his people. He 
 cannot have that free intercourse either 
 with his nobles or his subjects that distin- 
 
 VOL. i. o
 
 194 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 guishes despotic power. Even in his great 
 fetes he cannot collect his friends, nay, he 
 cannot even collect the choicest society. 
 The sovereign of England has all the 
 obligations, but few of the pleasures of 
 royalty. His consent is given to laws 
 before the laws are proposed. He is 
 powerless through his Commons, thwarted 
 and misrepresented by his nobility. Any 
 power he may enjoy rests on the attach- 
 ment of a people which would not brook 
 an insult to their lord. But his inter- 
 ference is one of sufferance, his influence 
 is indirect. Far happier would it be for 
 your country, were your sovereign to 
 exercise a bold and direct influence over 
 the state, correcting ministerial profli- 
 gacy, and counselling as a monarch, calm 
 and impartial from his elevation. A king 
 has to advance no relations, to court no
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 195 
 
 borough-holder or constituency. He will 
 look to promote and consolidate the wel- 
 fare of the lowest as the basis of the state 
 pyramid. He will adorn the various 
 parts of the structure with an eye that 
 from the apex can view all in an im- 
 partial light. He will not engage in 
 the petty intrigue of job or whip to 
 carry or reject a great truth. Great 
 measures will be carried out by great 
 means, and the liberties of England 
 will be harmonized by contrast, rather 
 than by confusion. The object of your 
 representative form of government should 
 be to limit the ambition of your sove- 
 reign, not to annihilate his action. Day 
 by day you infringe his authority, re- 
 ducing him to the state of a grand elector, 
 the French for a grand lama." 
 
 The Russian stopped suddenly. Cuth- 
 
 o2
 
 396 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 bert listened patiently to his friend who 
 spoke passionately. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " I feel the truth 
 of some of your remarks. There is in 
 the English breast a deep sentiment of 
 loyalty and devotion. The British people 
 adore the idea and the presence of their 
 sovereign. But there is no scope for the 
 display of that feeling. Macaulay says 
 that the fault of the English Church is 
 rejection of those fanatics, whom Eome 
 would adopt and convert into enthusiastic 
 agents. But the same principle runs 
 through our lay establishments. Louis 
 XIV. turned into a useful channel the 
 talents of the braggart St. Aignan and 
 the passionate Quixotism of La Feuillade. 
 Cold England would despise the gratitude 
 of a hero, who would erect squares and 
 statues to the honour of his sovereign, 
 
 o >
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 197 
 
 though in every act the royal name is 
 involved and abused to turn the sen- 
 timent of a people to the profit of a 
 party." 
 
 " Say these things to me alone, Mr. St. 
 Elme to those who will not repeat them. 
 The qualities of an age of civilization are 
 Caution, Reserve, Silence. You speak 
 strongly now, for you are excited. For- 
 give an old man who ventures to advise 
 you. Recollect that, even in the court of 
 Louis, your friend La Feuillade was con- 
 sidered a ' madman of much wit.' " 
 
 " Do advise me. Believe me, I readily 
 accept advice, and endeavour to profit by 
 it." 
 
 " I will not presume on your indulgence. 
 I only ask you to look at those who have 
 achieved success. Look " and he spoke 
 with some bitterness " look at Lord
 
 198 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 Elmwood. In your country he is a great 
 man. He is an able administrator. Do 
 you think he ever cherished a feeling not 
 warranted by precedent, or indulged in 
 a theory not susceptible of a docket. 
 Dawnay will be his La Feuillade. Shall 
 we drive round the town before going 
 home?" 
 
 " With pleasure. I feel your advice is 
 sound ; but how can I make myself useful 
 in the House of Commons?" 
 
 " By the practical development of a 
 secret policy. But do you think of soon 
 entering on a parliamentary career?" 
 
 " I am happy to say that one of the 
 letters you brought me has removed all 
 doubt on the matter. I am assured of a 
 competence, which, though not large, ren- 
 ders me independent of Lord Elmwood; 
 and I can earn, I think, sufficient by niy
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 199 
 
 literary exertions to place myself even 
 within reach of luxury." 
 
 " I congratulate you sincerely." 
 " There is indeed cause for congratu- 
 lation. You do not know my history. 
 I have only known it lately. Lord 
 Elmwood rejected my father for his mar- 
 riage with my mother. My father's dying 
 appeal and pride of family caused Lord 
 Elmwood to provide for my education. 
 This I must say he did generously. Par- 
 simony is not one of his vices. I had 
 intended never to communicate with the 
 family, but Edith's kindness was irresis- 
 tible." 
 
 " I saw you make her acquaintance." 
 
 " Now, thank Heaven, I can repay him 
 
 much, and if I embrace politics I can show 
 
 him that the blood of Mordaunt is not less 
 
 disinterested or less noble than his own."
 
 200 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " It is a noble name. But here we 
 are, Lung' A rno, approaching your house." 
 The Russian drew in his horses. St. 
 Elme leaped to the ground. 
 
 " I stop to say one word. Perhaps I may 
 not have an opportunity of doing so again. 
 Listen, Mr. St. Elme. I have already 
 heard something of your histor} T more 
 than you may be aware of. I take a deep, 
 deep interest in you. You have allowed me 
 to give you advice. Let me do so occasion- 
 ally by word or by letter. During your stay 
 here, I have watched your character. 
 You are not made for action, but you 
 must act. Strive to do right. Persevere 
 in your exertions. Earn money if you can, 
 and waste none. Beware of debt or even 
 irregularity. It will be your curse, as it 
 was that of some who went before you. 
 Believe me a brilliant career awaits you. 
 Do not be daunted by difficulty or reverse.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 201 
 
 Not many years will elapse ere you obtain 
 what you desire wealth, position, and, if 
 not her you love at the present moment, 
 one who will be worthy of your deep 
 affection. I am no prophet, no speculator. 
 You can with safety believe my words." 
 
 He spoke in French. Then suddenly 
 he changed his tone, and pressing St. Elme's 
 hands, he added, in purest English, 
 
 "And now God bless you." 
 
 The moon was setting behind the Pa- 
 lazzo Vecchio. The shadows were sharply 
 lined in the cloister of the beautiful 
 Uffizj. The eyes of the Russian beamed 
 on the young man with an aifection and 
 a softness almost womanly. 
 
 " God bless you." 
 
 In a moment his horses' feet were rat- 
 tling across the flagged space of the grand 
 ducal piazza. 
 
 Cuthbert stood astounded.
 
 202 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 The next morning he called early at 
 the apartments of the Russian. 
 
 Count Barralevski had left that morn- 
 ing. 
 
 When would he return? 
 
 The landlord did not know. A month 
 of his term was unexpired but he had 
 paid his bill and taken all his books. 
 His passport was vise for Austria, and his 
 horses were ordered for the Bologna road.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 203 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 LORD BEACONSFIELD gave a great dinner 
 the same evening. Cuthbert's good for- 
 tune had become known. All felicitated 
 him. 
 
 " Your health, St. Elme ! long life to 
 you ! Ton my honour, monstrous glad !" 
 
 "A health to the man of property!" 
 said Dawnay. 
 
 " Who will spend his substance, doubt- 
 less, on pictures," added Mr. Burney.
 
 204 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 Dawnay had not been successful latterly in 
 his art speculations. There had been some 
 little blunder on his part about an original 
 Leonardo da Vinci, which had furnished 
 matter for some amusement to the inha- 
 bitants of Florence. 
 
 " I'm afraid I must start to-morrow or 
 next day," observed Cuthbert. 
 
 "Stay four days, Cuddie, and I'll go 
 with yon," replied Lord Beacon sfield, 
 with a look of love at Julia Burney. 
 " I have some business at home." 
 
 " Ton my word, monstrous odd ! I 
 was saying to Julia, just as we came 
 in, that we must be off on Friday. 
 To-day is Monday four days. We shall 
 be starting about the same time, my lord. 
 
 " Monstrous odd monstrous odd!" 
 said Dawnay. 
 
 Dawnay stayed till Lord Elmwood 
 left for the opening of Parliament. Lady
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 205 
 
 Elmwood remained with Edith till her 
 sickly boy could move northward without 
 change of climate. 
 
 But the sickly boy died before the cold 
 of the Italian winter was passed; and 
 between Lord Elmwood and Cuthbert 
 there stood one heir alone.
 
 206 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE BEGINNING. 
 
 PRECISION is not absolutely necessary 
 as to the lapse of time between the 
 beginning of the last chapter and the 
 opening of the present. Suffice it, that 
 the London season was far advanced, and 
 that Cuthbert was seated comfortably 
 discussing his breakfast at Lord Bea- 
 consfield's comfortable bachelor house 
 in Street, Mayfair. 
 
 Some events, however, had occurred
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 207 
 
 since he last appeared on the stage. 
 Lord and Lady Elmwood were no longer 
 secluded from the world. Lord Beacons- 
 field's wedding day had been fixed for a 
 period only a few months' distant. Daw- 
 nay had been returned for his county; 
 Burney for his. Cuthbert, still the plighted 
 lover of Norah, was member for Fen- 
 ningham, and the week before his present 
 appearance had published his first novel. 
 It was a strange and daring feat for 
 one so young, and generally considered so 
 retiring. It is a dangerous venture, the 
 publication of a novel in the first blush of 
 youth, especially a novel touching on the 
 world the society we live in. Often 
 it fails, and the world think to find 
 the young man's gauge, or the author, 
 wounded by criticism and damped in 
 his ardour, recoils from future mortifi- 
 cation, even though capable of far greater
 
 208 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 achievements. Sometimes it succeeds. The 
 young man, entering on life, is like an 
 intelligent traveller in a foreign land. 
 Everything strikes sharply on his plastic 
 mind. Dashing fearlessly, vividly he re- 
 cords his vivid impressions, feelingly his 
 feelings, spontaneously his learning. And 
 herein lies his danger, even if he be 
 not over elated by good fortune. As 
 he represents with a broad pencil every 
 line and shade of character to those whom 
 habit has inured to perennial custom 
 and cold conventionality, some benevolent 
 reason, blundering on a likeness, in- 
 stinctively wanders to a well-known 
 model, adapts the vices, and bellows 
 forth a nickname. The public, ever 
 willing to follow a cry, yell at the imputed 
 but unintentional personality. On every 
 side rises a band of enemies, clamorous
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 209 
 
 against the unconscious offender, vilifying 
 his purpose, depreciating his talent, and 
 seeking to disguise their causeless anger 
 under the garb of outraged morality. 
 And for this there is no remedy. N& 
 trial takes place. No accusation is made, 
 and consequently no opportunity of de- 
 fence is attainable. 
 
 Cuthbert's novel had been published 
 just a week. Its fate was still undecided. 
 The suspense damped his spirits, and pre- 
 vented his sufficiently appreciating the 
 success attained the previous evening by 
 a short but brilliant maiden speech. 
 
 So he sat at breakfast moodily playing 
 with a spoon. Success with Cuthbert 
 was not a selfish pleasure. He coveted 
 it principally for the pleasure afforded 
 to those he loved, for the pleasure of 
 hearing from their lips their sympathy 
 
 VOL. i. p
 
 210 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 and participation in his triumphs. And 
 after all, Success is not a virtue to 
 serve as its own reward. It is a vague 
 uncertainty, depending for value on 
 public taste. Had Robinson Crusoe 
 been famous before his wreck, what 
 would his fame have served him on 
 his island? 
 
 But Cuthbert's friends were less careless 
 to his triumphs than himself. He had 
 not sat long at his meal when the door, 
 hastily opening, admitted Lord Beacons- 
 field. The young peer was flushed from 
 hurry and excitement. He carried a 
 leading journal. Throwing it down on 
 the table, he seized the hand of his 
 cousin, and, griping his hand after a 
 rough manner, saluted him. 
 
 " By Jove, old Cuddie, you're a made 
 man. One success might be considered
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 211 
 
 enough for most men, but you must have 
 twenty. Look here and here and here," 
 and the excited nobleman pointed to dif- 
 ferent parts of the journal first, where 
 Cuddie's speech was reported in full, 
 then where it was complimented in the 
 summary, then to a leading article, and 
 lastly to a copious review of the new novel. 
 
 Cuthbert's eyes turned involuntarily to 
 the review. His novel was successful. 
 
 " But you must look at the leader, 
 Cuddie. Considering your name is St. 
 Elme, the praise is wonderful." 
 
 Cuthbert folded the paper. After he 
 had read a portion of the essay, he laid it 
 down unable to conclude it. 
 
 Edward stood near him, beaming with 
 delight, and watching for the pleasure 
 of his cousin. 
 
 Cuthbert murmured, 
 
 r 2
 
 212 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " I hope this will please " 
 
 The peer's features assumed an expres- 
 sion of intense cunning. 
 
 " Dawnay I suppose you mean ?" 
 
 Thus ran the article : 
 
 " Complaints have latterly been rife of 
 a scarcity in rising men. Our present 
 statesmen are said to be wearing out, and 
 elderly gentlemen, pondering on the glories 
 of the past, shake their heads at the dege- 
 neracy of the present. Recent debates, 
 however, have given the lie to these 
 gloomy forebodings. The animated dis- 
 cussions of last night on the liberty of the 
 press afford some hope for the future. 
 Two young senators then made their first 
 appearance, aspirants for fame if not for 
 the advantages of office : Sir Hugh 
 Dawnay and Mr. St. Elme. The latter 
 a relative, the former the intimate follower 
 of the well known opposition statesman, 

 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 213 
 
 Lord Elmwood. Of Sir Hugh Dawnay 
 we can say but little. True, lie appears 
 well versed in the platitudes of his party, 
 and may at some period emulate the suc- 
 cesses of his chieftain. But beyond this 
 the impression produced by the young 
 baronet was anything but satisfactory. A 
 drawling delivery, a didactic not to say 
 flippant manner, and an affectation of self- 
 possession, would have marred matter of 
 a much higher order, and destroyed the 
 effect of a far more lengthened expe- 
 rience. 
 
 " But of Mr. St. Eline we can give a far 
 more pleasing description. His delivery 
 was quiet and unpretending, but his speech 
 was pregnant with argument and mean- 
 ing. Mr. St. Elme achieved what Sir 
 Hugh Dawnay affected the delivery of 
 measured sentences, evidencing the deep 
 thought and considerable research of a
 
 214 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 far older man. He astonished by the 
 justice of his views and the grasp of his 
 deductions. His youth was only apparent 
 in a certain shyness not ungraceful in his 
 age. In this respect he might negotiate 
 an exchange to great advantage with Sir 
 Hugh Dawnay. 
 
 "As might have been expected from 
 the foregoing, we must acknowledge 
 that not only the speech but the course 
 pursued by Mr. St. Elme has secured to 
 him a large share of our favour. Sir 
 Hugh Dawnay, in his discourse and in his 
 vote, was content to follow in the wake of 
 his leaders. Mr. St. Elme had the strength 
 of inind to separate himself from the bulk 
 of his party, and manfully to support the 
 motion brought forward by the govern- 
 ment. From his opinions we could have 
 anticipated no other result. In a talented 
 novel, lately published and reviewed at
 
 OP A POLITICIAN. 215 
 
 length in another portion of our columns, 
 the young orator has enunciated opinions 
 and promulgated theories at utter variance 
 with the cramped prejudices of the Elm- 
 wood party. We do not know whether 
 Mr. St. Elme is indebted for his seat to 
 the influence of his uncle. We rather be- 
 lieve not. But should our surmise be 
 unfounded, an amusing speculation might 
 be founded on the feelings of that noble 
 Lord as he listened below the bar to the 
 eloquence of his young namesake, who, we 
 have every reason to believe, exercises no 
 small influence over more than one of the 
 young generation that have lately entered 
 on a parliamentary career." 
 
 " If you please, niy Lord, the horses are 
 at the door." 
 
 " Have you had the girth of that side 
 saddle looked to ?"
 
 216 PASSAGES rsr THE LIFE 
 
 "Yes, my Lord." 
 
 " Goodbye, Cuddle ; God bless you !" 
 As the lover left the room [Cuthbert 
 finished his sentence. 
 
 " I hope this will please Norah."
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 217 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 YOUNG LOVE'S DREAM. 
 
 IT is a long while since Norah has been 
 seen in this little drama. But though ab- 
 sent from view, she had played no inconsi- 
 derable part in the life of her young lover. 
 Carefully had Cuthbert treasured her in 
 his memory. Loyally had his thoughts 
 turned to her amidst scenes where with 
 others the tempter had triumphed. His 
 true heart knew no deviation. It shrank 
 from even those small infidelities tern-
 
 218 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 pered by the denomination of flirta- 
 tions. 
 
 Gladly did lie return from his wander- 
 ings to lay at her feet the little gifts he 
 had collected, and all the accumulations 
 of his love. 
 
 How fondly had he looked forward to 
 the meeting ! How joyfully had he pon- 
 dered on their future conversations, their 
 mutual plans, their castle buildings, their 
 pure hopes and noble aspirations. Poor 
 Cuthbert ! Poor Alnaschar ! Equally 
 baseless were the foundations of their 
 visions. 
 
 The character of an Englishman is ge- 
 nerally formed in early youth. Subse- 
 quent events may temporarily alter his 
 manners; but as he brushes with the 
 world, his thoughts soon regain their even 
 tenor. 
 
 But with women, girls rather, .the case
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 219 
 
 is very different. With them contact 
 with the world summons into existence 
 ideas and actions of the mind hitherto so 
 completely dormant as to be imperceptible. 
 It is true, marriage frequently restores 
 the native goodness. But this is poor con- 
 solation to the lover of retirement, aban- 
 doned by his mistress in her worldly mo- 
 ments, and living to see the restoration 
 of her finer feelings when she has become 
 the wife of another. 
 
 And during Cuthbert's absence many 
 changes had occurred. Lady Beacons- 
 field had taken a large villa at Fulham ; 
 and Norah, under the tutelage of many 
 relatives, had mixed more freely than 
 before in the amusements of the capital. 
 Nevertheless, it must be confessed Norah 
 still declared herself firm to her original 
 attachment. Although Cuthbert, on his 
 return, had not found all the happiness
 
 220 
 
 he expected, Norah was always affec- 
 tionate, at times fond and tender. 
 
 But Cuthbert could not suppress 
 an inward feeling of dissatisfaction. 
 He had loved one Norah at Beacon sfield. 
 The Norah of Fulham was a different 
 person. 
 
 Norah had ever been capricious. This 
 quality had suffered no diminution in the 
 capricious atmosphere of London. At 
 times indeed she was affectionate and 
 thoughtful ; but at others she was cold, 
 reserved, and neglectful. At times she 
 was ready to share her cousin's lot, how- 
 ever gloomy and uninviting. At others 
 she depreciated his successes and his 
 qualities, and affected to display her 
 talents, or court admiration by seeking 
 the society of others. 
 
 Perhaps the fault lay partly with Cuth-
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 221 
 
 bert. An accepted lover is selfish. Perhaps 
 he thought too little of her kindness, while 
 he exaggerated her shortcomings. He 
 wished to enjoy her society uninter- 
 ruptedly. He could not bear to see her 
 mix, even innocently, in the diversions of 
 those not participating in his feelings. He 
 did not distrust her constancy. Had it 
 not already undergone a long ordeal? 
 But it was painful to him to see her 
 her he loved even innocently merry with 
 another. This feeling had cast a shadow 
 on his spirits. He would not remonstrate. 
 He was ashamed even to declare his 
 grievances, and the concealed bitterness 
 gnawed at his heartstrings. 
 
 His heart sank at her ringing laugh. 
 His eye no longer sparkled, though his 
 pulse quickened, as .he saw her bright 
 smile, as he heard her light step.
 
 222 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 Yet he devised every method to regain 
 the affection he dreaded to be waning. 
 Gifts and plots of pleasure he proffered to 
 her daily. Yet she was capricious. His 
 kindest actions scarcely gained a smile. 
 If his thoughts wandered to some other 
 matter, she stole near to him, and whis- 
 pered that she loved him. 
 
 " Yes, this success must please 
 Norah," he murmured passionately. 
 " Whom does she know amongst all 
 those men who have achieved as 
 much as myself?" Cuthbert was not 
 vain. He spoke thus not for himself. 
 He felt no pleasure at the applause of 
 his country. For himself he was 
 unambitious of worldly advantages. But 
 woman loved them ; he loved Norah, and 
 Norah was a woman. 
 
 He gazed through the long dark ar- 
 cade of life. All seemed straight and
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 223 
 
 smooth before him. But arch succeeded 
 arch; through the gloomy passage, the 
 way lengthened, and he knew not when 
 the light should glimmer.
 
 224 PASSAGES IN THE LEFE 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 TIES OF BLOOD. 
 
 THE same day there was a great breakfast 
 at Lady Beaconsfield's Villa, Leafybank. 
 Her mind was not attuned to gaiety ; but 
 Edward was to be married, and Norah loved 
 amusement. Therefore Lady Beaconsfield 
 asked the world of London, that kindly, 
 goodly, charitable world, to please itself at 
 her expense, to inspect the flowers, to dance 
 to her music, to eat her ices, and to drink 
 her champagne. And the world was bene-
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 225 
 
 volent, and did not reject her advances. 
 It poured forth a stream of carriages along 
 the dusty road ; and as it received much 
 enjoyment at Lady Beaconsfield's expense, 
 it kindly signified its approbation, and 
 declared that her ladyship's best course 
 would be to repeat the experiment, when 
 not only the world already there, but the 
 remainder, still in London, would pro- 
 bably have no objection to participate in 
 her hospitality. 
 
 And poor Lady Beaconsfield, who was 
 so weak and so ill that her nerves 
 racked and her brain throbbed at the 
 turmoil and disorder, actually believed 
 the world. She actually thanked it for 
 the honor conferred and promised if 
 she lived to try and do better next 
 year. 
 
 Cuthbert arrived early in the afternoon. 
 Lady Beaconsfield received him silently 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 but gladly. Taking his arm she asked his 
 escort to a marquee ; and as they walked 
 slowly, at a pace suitable to her years, she 
 told him of all her joy and pride that the 
 boy whom she had loved as a mother, 
 should rise by his own merit to the posi- 
 tion he bid fair to occupy. 
 
 Cuthbert listened some time attentively 
 and respectfully. He loved Lady Bea- 
 consfield as a mother. To converse with 
 her was a pleasure far greater than 
 any of the surrounding frivolities. But 
 on a sudden she perceived a relaxa- 
 tion in the attention of her listener, if 
 not an entire abstraction of his mind. 
 She asked him a slight question. He re- 
 turned a vague and totally inappropriate 
 answer. 
 
 Lady Beaconsfield smiled slightly. 
 
 " Now, my dear Cuthbert," she said, 
 " you had best leave me. We are quite
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 227 
 
 close to the tent, and I see some persons I 
 must speak to." 
 
 " Do you really not want me to walk 
 with you any longer; or do you say 
 so because you think I want to run 
 away." 
 
 " Because I really am arrived very near 
 the point I had fixed as the limit of our 
 walk." 
 
 Cuthbert however insisted on conduct- 
 ing the old lady to a seat before he joined 
 the little group that had so wholly absorbed 
 his attention. 
 
 The group consisted of Lord and Lady 
 Elmwood and of Edith, of Lord Bea- 
 consfield, Mr. Burney and the fair Julia, 
 Sir Hugh Dawnay, and Lady Norah 
 Sullivan. 
 
 Edith was the first to perceive the 
 approach of her cousin. 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " Oh! NoraV she said, " Cuthbert has 
 arrived." 
 
 Norah turned her eyes in the direction 
 pointed. At some distance Cuthbert per- 
 ceived her smile of welcome and the 
 sparkle of her eyes. 
 
 He joined the group. 
 
 Lord Elmwood nodded kindly. He 
 was not politically rancorous. Opposition 
 was rather a claim to his civility. 
 
 " How d'ye do/ Cuthbert? I congra- 
 tulate you on your achievements. I have 
 read your book, and listened to your 
 speech. I agree with neither, but I think 
 them both decidedly clever." 
 
 Dawnay had not the same command 
 over himself. Cuthbert full of kindliness 
 went up to shake hands with him. Daw- 
 nay coldly returned the grasp, to recom- 
 mence his _ conversation with Lady Elm- 
 wood.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 229 
 
 But in the little party all was admira- 
 tion. The pressure of Norah's hand, the 
 sweetness of her smile, restored Cuthbert 
 to a circle of beatitude whereto he had 
 been long a stranger. 
 
 The party moved on, and the pair 
 lagged behind. 
 
 " Dear, dear Cuthbert," she began, 
 " how happy have you made me. Every 
 one is talking of you, every one is reading 
 your book and quoting your speech. Mr. 
 Burney says nothing has been heard like 
 it since Mr. Canning. DEAR CUTH- 
 
 D 
 
 BERT." 
 
 His arm was pressed by the little hand 
 that lay in it. 
 
 " Norah, darling Norah, God knows 
 how little I should^value any thing without 
 your approval. My only thought, my 
 only aspiration, is to make your happiness. 
 If I were only sure of your love, I feel I
 
 230 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 could reach any position in the power of a 
 subject; but without it, I should become 
 a wretched inert dreamer, a country 
 curate, or a tenth-rate poet." 
 
 There came no answer; but Norah 
 turned her eyes to his, so that the young 
 orator derived much benefit. 
 
 He continued talking innocently, un- 
 grammatically, almost as a child. At 
 times a quaintly gathered quotation, or an 
 original illustration, betrayed the power 
 of his mind ; but with Norah he loved to 
 cast aside all recollection of artifice. His 
 feelings rose unbidden and in disorder, 
 and he loved to pour them forth as they 
 came. 
 
 At length Norah awoke to a sense of 
 her position as hostess. She had been for 
 a short quarter of an hour as in a dream. 
 Cuthbert's accents fell softly on her ear, 
 and she thought she loved him. For the
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. ' 231 
 
 moment she was happy in his love. All 
 London was ringing with his praises. She 
 was proud of her lover. 
 
 But guests came and addressed her 
 with requests for assistance, or compli- 
 ments on the beauty of the entertain- 
 ment. 
 
 With a look of entreaty at Cuthbert she 
 left him, and soon was in the thickest of 
 the throng. 
 
 Cuthbert turned away distressed. Edith 
 was not far from him, walking alone. 
 
 He approached her. She raised her 
 eyes from the ground. 
 
 " Well, Cuthbert," she said, " I can 
 scarcely congratulate you, but I am so glad 
 if you are pleased." 
 
 She still looked so young, so childish ; 
 but there was a serenity on her brow, a 
 depth in her gaze, significative of the 
 woman.
 
 232 PASSAGES IN THE LIPE 
 
 " Come and walk along the river," 
 answered Cuthbert. 
 
 Edith took his arm. 
 
 " Edith, I am not happy." 
 
 He paused for a reply ; but none was 
 given. 
 
 " Edith, you cannot know how lonely 
 I feel, how very lonely. I do not care 
 for success or notoriety." 
 
 " But you make many happy. Why 
 complain, Cuthbert? Norah is delighted. 
 I should be so did I not think your 
 sentiments annoyed papa." 
 
 "Yes, Norah is ready to share my 
 prosperity; but what would she feel in 
 my adversity?" 
 
 " Cuthbert, you are bitter to day, not 
 like yourself. When every thing seems to 
 answer with you, you are discontented. 
 No, Cuthbert, you are not yourself." 
 
 " Why, even you, Edith, turn against
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 233 
 
 me. Are you angry that I have given 
 utterance to my true sentiments ; or would 
 you have me spout out sentiments of 
 others?" 
 
 " I would have you act honestly, Cuth- 
 bert, as you do act. But what do you 
 wish me to say ? Shall I tell you I am 
 glad that you have turned your talents and 
 your energies against my father ? What 
 is it you want ? Dear Cuthbert, do be 
 yourself. You used to be kind and gentle. 
 Now that you should feel more charitable 
 than ever, you quarrel with your good for- 
 tune, and are angry with those who love 
 you best." 
 
 " Yes, I am always wrong of course." 
 Cuthbert began to mollify. 
 
 " Now, Cuthbert, let us talk politics. 
 Why did you make that speech last 
 night?" 
 
 " Because I felt strongly on the subject."
 
 234 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 "And you did not care about vexing 
 papa?" 
 
 " He ought not to be vexed. He knows 
 my feelings, and could never have expected 
 me to act otherwise." 
 
 " t Oh ! those horrid politics. But, Cuth- 
 bert, I have read your novel. Some parts 
 of it are beautiful. Norah and I were 
 reading it together; and she almost cried 
 with joy when she read the review this 
 morning." 
 
 Notwithstanding the encouraging words 
 employed by Edith, there was an evident 
 constraint in her manner and conversa- 
 tion. Perhaps she resented the part 
 taken by Cuthbert against her father; 
 perhaps that even while Norah exhibited 
 her affection for Cuthbert, Edith knew 
 the dangers arising from her changeable 
 disposition, and felt embarrassed as to the 
 course to be pursued. Could she honestly
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 235 
 
 encourage Cuthbert to hope, while she 
 knew the danger that lurked even in 
 Norah's very warmest demonstrations. 
 Could she damp the happiness, that 
 occurred so seldom, on account of a peril 
 that might be imaginary. After all Norah 
 might for once be in earnest. But there 
 might be still more than one reason in the 
 secret mind of the young debutante 
 secrets involving others as well as herself, 
 and yet of deep import to the happiness 
 of her cousin.
 
 236 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 MODERN FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 MEANWHILE a party of three were 
 walking apart near the bank of the 
 Thames. These were the two parent 
 Eltnwoods and their henchman Dawnay. 
 Had any one heard their conversation, it 
 would have been considered animated. 
 But at a distance no one would have 
 dreamed of the important matters in dis- 
 cussion. Lord Elm wood possessed per-
 
 OP A POLITICIAN. 237 
 
 feet command of expression and gesture; 
 Lady Elm wood was the reflex of her 
 husband; while Dawnay, though not as 
 yet completely perfect in the art, adopted 
 the artificial method of placing his thumbs 
 in the sleeve of his waistcoat. As Edith 
 approached them, having pointed to Cuth- 
 bert the position of Norah, Dawnay was 
 speaking. 
 
 "Then you attribute considerable im- 
 portance to St. Elme's speech of last 
 night." 
 
 " Considerable importance. I think 
 that several wavering young men will 
 circle round him as a party leader. 
 Such is the power of the press, that he 
 has been blown into a kind of fame. 
 His advice will be asked ; and if he goes 
 against us, we shall have another compli- 
 cation added to our difficulties."
 
 238 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " But whom do you think he has at- 
 tracted by his absurd notions ?" 
 
 " In the first place, Beaconsfield to a 
 certainty. Next, Burney I perceive is his 
 intimate friend; and through Burney much 
 may be done. Burney involves his father, 
 a respectable country gentleman, whose 
 acres add to the value of his vote. If 
 we got Burney, I should not so much 
 mind Cuthbert's defalcations." 
 
 " But do you apprehend any danger 
 this session, Lord Elm wood?" 
 
 " More than any thing. Two or three 
 bills have been postponed very late. Par- 
 ties are equally balanced, and ten or a 
 dozen votes on either side may make all 
 the difference." 
 
 " What would you say then if I proposed 
 a plan for obtaining Burney and his 
 father, and perhaps Beaconsfield." 
 
 " That it is worthy the mail who made
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 239 
 
 the best maiden speech I ever heard, for 
 such I consider your speech of last night." 
 
 "You told me that you were in some 
 considerable difficulties respecting your 
 Irish property." 
 
 " Yes, I received a letter to-day from 
 Ireland, saying I should be on the spot." 
 
 " Show it to Cuthbert. He owes you 
 some gratitude and wishes to repay it. 
 Make a point of his going at once to 
 Ireland. Work upon his feelings and he 
 will be sure to comply." 
 
 Edith shuddered at the cold-blooded 
 schemer. Lord Emrwood paused. 
 
 " That would get him out of the way," 
 he answered musingly. " But how could 
 we entrap the others." 
 
 Dawnay answered in a low voice, so 
 that Edith could catch only a few words of 
 his remarks, without understanding their
 
 240 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 full value. Lord and Lady Elmwood were 
 walking together, Dawnay was by the 
 side of the peer, Edith by that of her 
 mother. Thus did Dawnay mutter in 
 the bitterness of his envy. 
 
 "Do you know that Cuthbert and 
 Norah Sullivan are in a certain way 
 engaged ?" 
 
 " I suspected something of the sort." 
 
 " Do you know that Burney is as much 
 in love with her as man can be? Do 
 you know that she has lately been flirting 
 with him in a marked manner; and that 
 although Cuthbert's notoriety may have 
 led her back to him for a moment, nothing 
 could be easier than to make up the mar- 
 riage in a fortnight." 
 
 " Well," replied the peer, smiling at 
 the villany, and waiting only for its full 
 development.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 24 L 
 
 " Well, Cuthbert once away andVBur- 
 ney married to Norah, through your 
 agency, you obtain the old lord, and 
 perhaps the young one." 
 
 " At any rate it may be tried. The 
 young scamp I shall be even with him 
 yet. He deserves no rnercy, turning 
 against his own family. But who is to 
 manage the marriage part of the busi- 
 ness ?" 
 
 u Leave that to me," said Lady Elm- 
 wood with a smile of power. 
 
 Edith's face blushed crimson, and her 
 bosom heaved. Though she had not 
 heard all, her quick instinct had divined 
 the meaning of the murmured conversa- 
 tion. But what was she to do ? She 
 could not betray her father, yet her cou- 
 sin was to be wounded in his tenderest, 
 best feelings ; Norah was to be employed 
 
 VOL. i. K
 
 242 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 as a snare. She had never contem- 
 plated such a web of deceit even in 
 others. She could scarcely believe in its 
 existence. Yet now it was presented to 
 her as a matter of permissible stratagem, 
 for the furtherance of a scheme of politics, 
 the reward of which would be the acqui- 
 sition of temporary power. And was 
 this to weigh against the happiness of a 
 life? And could these wretched tricks 
 form part of a statesman's action ? 
 
 Poor girl ! little did she know with how 
 little wisdom the world is governed 
 quantula sapientia with how little 
 honesty great men obtain renown for 
 probity. 
 
 She knew as little, poor girl, of these 
 matters as our country cousins. Little do 
 they know, those good country cousins of 
 ours, the wiles and devices of our great
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 243 
 
 men. Little do they know how a great 
 principle is decided by a judicious dinner, 
 or a great truth defeated by jugglery 
 unworthy almost of thimble-rig on a 
 village green. 
 
 B 2
 
 244 PASSAGES IX THE LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE STATESMAN. 
 
 NOT many minutes had elapsed when 
 Lord Elmwood was seen elbowing his 
 way through the well-dressed crowd 
 assembled in a refreshment booth. 
 
 Cuthbert was standing at the end of a 
 table, endeavouring to answer the thou- 
 sand requirements of the hungry throng 
 around him. He did not perceive the 
 exertions of Lord Elmwood, who, with
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 245 
 
 great good humour, was struggling to gain 
 the attention of his fated relative. 
 
 " This is awful," he said to a lady near 
 him; "the fact of being so near you is 
 the only means of keeping one alive." - 
 
 "Well, my dear Lord Elmwood, its very 
 kind of you to say so. With your head two 
 feet above every one else, you may enjoy 
 the pleasure of your position. For my 
 part, I can only tell you that you are 
 smothering me a poor lone widow." 
 
 " What an accusation ! I wish I were 
 shorter, we then should be more on a foot- 
 ing of equality, and I might breathe soft 
 nothings, which might reconcile you 
 to your situation. But as that is not 
 feasible, what shall I do? Shall I declare 
 you are fainting, and carry you out ?'' 
 
 " No, tread on people's toes." 
 
 " Not on mine, please, Lord Elrnwood," 
 cried a second lady, retreating from his 
 exertions.
 
 246 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " Impossible to tread on so small a foot, 
 my dear Mrs. Vere. Everybody tells me 
 it's like a Chinese foot. I have no oppor- 
 tunity of seeing it now ; but by and bye, 
 if you'll allow me, I'll take you to your 
 carriage, and form my own conclusions 
 as you are walking up the steps. Mean- 
 while, do, like a good creature, step a little 
 to the right, and let me pass. Ah ! there 
 they are, quite Chinese I declare." 
 
 " What's that about China, Lord Elm- 
 wood? Is it true the Chinese have de- 
 clared war, and are going to send a fleet 
 of junks to bombard Ramsgate?" 
 
 " Quite true. Sir Charles Napier has 
 been sent with a squadron of evolution to 
 intercept them in the Bay of Biscay. Tea 
 has risen fourpence a pound, I expect 
 every moment to hear of a further rise of 
 twopence." 
 
 The femme politique retreated, and
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 247 
 
 Lord Elmwood was within a yard of his 
 victim. 
 
 " Do you want your undutiful cousin, 
 Lord Elmwood?" asked Norah. 
 
 " Oh, he's undutiful to you, is he, young 
 lady?" 
 
 Norah smiled a smile of conscious power. 
 
 " I'm not a member of the Opposition." 
 
 " Well, then, pray don't oppose my pro- 
 gress, little woman." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, I shall. Cuthbert is 
 making himself very useful, and no gentle- 
 man must interrupt him." 
 
 " Then interrupt him yourself, like a 
 good girl. It really is of importance for 
 me to speak to him at once." 
 
 At length the statesman gained his 
 
 o O 
 
 point, as he had often done before by the 
 same means, fair words, smiles, false state- 
 ments, and promises made to be broken. 
 " Cuthbert," he said, " just come for
 
 248 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 a moment out of this crowd. I want to 
 speak to you particularly." 
 
 " Do you want rne to come directly ?" 
 
 Lord Elmwood perceived curious eyes 
 watching the conversation. 
 
 " Yes, directly; I have promised to take 
 Mrs. Vere to her carriage, and look at her 
 foot." 
 
 There was a titter round them; but 
 Cuthbert was quick enough to see the 
 cause of the joke. 
 
 " Hadn't we better go round by the 
 small door. That way is less crowded." 
 
 They walked away together. 
 
 " Cuthbert," began Lord Elmwood, " I 
 want you to do me a special favour. I 
 know it will be inconvenient to you ; but 
 as I am convinced that, politics apart, you 
 will be anxious to serve me, I hope you 
 will grant it." 
 
 Lord Elmwood has touched the right
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 249 
 
 chord. He had read Cuthbcrt's mind 
 and nature like an open book. The man 
 of the world knew that his young cousin 
 would readily avail himself of any means 
 to compensate, as a private individual, 
 any wound or injury inflicted in a public 
 capacity on the head of his family. 
 
 Cuthbert was silent. 
 
 " What I want you to do is, to start 
 immediately for Ireland. Things are in a 
 very bad state, and my property is going 
 to the dogs. A cry has been got up about 
 my absentee habits and propensities. I 
 would go myself, but at the present 
 moment by so doing I should risk inte- 
 rests almost as important. But if a person 
 were to be seen of my own name, it would 
 go far to set matters straight. My agent 
 is an honest, respectable man, and he has 
 done all that he can do. The name is 
 wanted: and you know there are onlv 
 
 / /
 
 250 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 three persons in the world now who bear 
 it. John St. Elme is in America." 
 
 Cuthbert was still silent with the 
 silence that implies consent. But Lord 
 Elmwood was for once at fault, and mis- 
 interpreted its meaning. 
 
 " Cuthbert," he said, " you once told me 
 you wished to repay the obligations you 
 imagined I had conferred on you. Believe 
 me, if you go now, as I beg you, I shall 
 consider them as infinitely more than can- 
 celled." 
 
 " It needed not all this, Lord Elmwood, 
 to make me go at once if your interests 
 are concerned. I was only thinking but 
 never mind. When do you wish me to 
 start?" 
 
 " If possible to-night, to catch the boat 
 from Bristol to-morrow. If you agree, we 
 can start for London at once, and I will 
 prepare the necessary letters."
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 251 
 
 They were not far from the lodge 
 gates. 
 
 " Stop a moment," said Cuthbert ; " I 
 must say good-bye." 
 
 "Oh, you can write it. But here is 
 Edith, she will take any message. Edith, 
 Cuddie wants you to bid every one good 
 bye." 
 
 " Yes, Edith," whispered Cuddie. "Tell 
 Norah that I am hurried to Ireland by 
 your father's affairs. Tell her, Edith 
 you can tell her all you know you know 
 how I love her." 
 
 " It's only for a month," interrupted 
 Lord Elm wood, who had stood a few 
 yards off during the short colloquy. 
 
 A month then Parliament would be 
 over. 
 
 A month that was to last for ever. 
 
 In youth, separation is a foretaste of 
 death.
 
 252 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 A few moments only had elapsed, and 
 the statesman and his cousin were rolling 
 on the road to London. 
 
 Edith stood alone, almost overwhelmed 
 with her sickening sensations. 
 
 At length she saw Lady Beaconsfield. 
 With tears in her eyes she took her hand, 
 and led her into the house.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 253 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 WHAT'S IN A NAME. 
 
 VERY little conversation took place 
 during the drive. Little had to be said 
 respecting the Irish matters. The name 
 was required, Lord Elmwood said the 
 name. Much benefit did it confer on its 
 young possessor. 
 
 At length they arrived at Lord Beacons- 
 field's house, and the statesman took his 
 leave with many expressions of gratitude. 
 
 Cuthbert mournfully bade him farewell.
 
 254 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 During the drive he had reflected on all 
 he had lost. His parliamentary successes 
 were nipped in the bud. And his love ! 
 On the point of success, he was torn away 
 just as the prize was within his grasp, that 
 torturing prize, which for anxious months 
 and years he had striven to win. 
 
 But for both evils he must strive to seek 
 a remedy. He had few preparations to 
 make beyond those lying in the power of 
 his servant. So he sat him down to write. 
 His windows looked towards the park. 
 Nature was smiling, and the throngs en- 
 joying themselves under the summer sky, 
 rode backwards and forwards on the road 
 leading to that house of luxury which 
 contained all he loved on earth. 
 
 Many memories rushed through Cuth- 
 bert's mind. It was a moment for retro- 
 spect, not for anticipation. 
 
 He wrote to Norah. He wrote to her in
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 255 
 
 burning words words conveying the full 
 force of his tumultuous feelings. He told 
 her of his love his love his love. What 
 word was there to express that deep, 
 concentrated, almost agonizing feeling, 
 which told him how dear to his heart, 
 how indispensable to his life, was the 
 presence of that one being. As a child he 
 had loved her as a woman. As a woman 
 he adored her as a deity. For ever, for 
 ever, in absence, he could write to pour 
 out the deep store of his attachment. He 
 kissed the pages that he wrote, for would 
 they not soon see her who was to him 
 almost as the breath of life. Norah ! Norah ! 
 As he left her, he felt all the danger of his 
 absence. Never before had he experienced 
 such sensations such despondency such 
 foreboding such despairing love. 
 
 Shall he rush back to Fulharn to see 
 her once more, to clasp her to his heart ?
 
 256 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 He looked at the watch tying upon his 
 table. It was already seven. At seven 
 she was to dine somewhere, he knew 
 not where. She was to go to a court 
 ball. He had not received an invitation. 
 At midnight he was to start for Bristol. 
 
 Once more he looked at his watch. 
 In the morning he had forgotten it. Now 
 by its side there lay a letter. He took it. 
 It was addressed in fine, almost womanly 
 characters, but steady, firm, and flaring. 
 He looked at the seal, which bore only a 
 cypher. He opened the letter. It was 
 in French. 
 
 " Here I am once more in London, 
 after so many years of absence. On my 
 arrival my ears are greeted with the 
 sound of all your brilliant efforts. Yes, 
 my young friend, you are for the moment 
 the lion of the metropolis. You are famous 
 for the moment and I am glad. I can con-
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 257 
 
 gratulate you honestly, for I feel your suc- 
 cesses are deserved." Then followed 
 some words of advice. Thus it ended: 
 
 " For myself, I go for a few days 
 to Wales. On my return we shall meet. 
 Adieu. Your friend, Barralevski." 
 
 Cuthbert laid down the letter gloomily. 
 It was colder in tone than he could have 
 expected. There was less praise than 
 he hoped for, and advice so sound as to 
 make him feel doubly the serious injury 
 he was about to entail on himself. He 
 looked once more at his watch. Ten 
 minutes past seven. He opened his desk. 
 In it lay the two bills about to be brought 
 forward; near them papers covered with 
 notes for his intended speeches. Must 
 they be lost? They were quite ready. 
 He had intended to leave them for a few 
 days, not to overload his mind, and 
 to recur to them only on the eve of the 
 
 VOL. i. s
 
 258 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 debates. Should they be lost? He had 
 still five hours before him. If the oppor- 
 tunity of speaking were denied him, 
 at least he might employ his other gifts. 
 Unconsciously he had arranged the notes 
 in their proper order. He knew not of 
 the artifice in play against him. Uncon- 
 sciously he was about to overthrow the 
 well conceived plot. The plot might 
 indeed succeed, but defeat waited the 
 objects of the conspirators. 
 
 Cuthbert sat and wrote. His pen flew 
 fast over the paper. One by one he took 
 each clause of the measure, supporting the 
 points which met with his concurrence, 
 amending where he found them defective. 
 He required no reference no illustration. 
 His brain was on fire, and the thoughts 
 jostled each other to supply whatever was 
 wanting in the prepared material. Never
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 259 
 
 had lie written with such point, such 
 fervour. He conjured up antagonistic 
 arguments only to destroy them. He 
 brought every weapon into play logic, 
 anecdote, humour, satire, invective. His 
 imagination was not controlled by the 
 cold atmosphere of the House. It revelled 
 in freedom. At length his hand moved 
 more slowly. Carefully he wrote that 
 wonderful peroration; his periods swell- 
 ing, as they, cast to the world the com- 
 bined results of all his arguments. Then 
 with a sigh of relief, a sigh of despair, he 
 laid down his pen. Once more he was 
 left a prey to the gloom of his own 
 thoughts. 
 
 Again he looked at his watch. It 
 pointed to eleven. He had not eaten for 
 many hours. Einging the bell, he mecha- 
 nically ordered some refreshment. Mean- 
 
 s 2
 
 260 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 while he gathered up his papers and tied 
 them in a packet. This he directed to 
 Burney. Then he wrote a few lines. 
 
 "DEAR BUENEY,- I am off to Ireland 
 on some affairs admitting of no delay. I 
 consequently cannot fulfil my promise 
 to you of supporting in the House the two 
 measures announced for next week. How- 
 ever, will you take the accompanying 
 packet to my publisher, begging him 
 to have it out by Friday. This he 
 can easily do. I trust to your kindness 
 for the correction of proof, &c., and to 
 your discretion not to mention the matter 
 till the pamphlet is published. Direct 
 any letters here, as they will be for- 
 warded. Should you see Count Barra- 
 levski in London before my return, pray 
 tell him I did not write, as he gave me no 
 direction, but that I will send a letter
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 261 
 
 to wait for him at the Russian Embassy. 
 Goodbye." 
 
 He had scarcely finished the letter 
 when Lord Beaconsfield rushed into the 
 room violently, as was his wont. 
 
 " So you're off, my dear Cuddie. My 
 impression is that there's some infernal 
 plot. Dawnay has been at me and Lord 
 Burnholme to get Burney to vote against 
 those two bills, and to oppose them 
 ourselves in the Lords. And what do 
 you think Lord Burnholme said ? I 
 declare he's very sensible after all. Why, 
 he said, that as they had got you out 
 of the way, he should make his son stop 
 up the gap. Not so bad, was it? By 
 the way, poor little Edith was very un- 
 well this evening, and so was my mother. 
 But they all desired their love to you. 
 Burney said he would write to you. I'll
 
 262 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 take care he gets your letter and packet to- 
 night. However, it's time for you to be off, 
 and I must make myself military for the 
 ball. Goodbye, old Cuddie. You'll be 
 back for the wedding?" he added in a 
 whisper, as the cousins descended the 
 stairs. 
 
 The packet was sent that evening. It 
 was published on the Friday. By Monday 
 thousands of copies had been sold. The 
 printers could not strike them off with 
 sufficient rapidity. All London was read- 
 ing the pamphlet. The bills were carried 
 by a triumphant majority. 
 
 And Edith, as she heard the suppressed 
 curses of her father, could scarce regret 
 his grief. 
 
 Dawnay had asked her hand. She re- 
 jected it almost with disgust. And 
 Lord and Lady Elmwood had not sought 
 to alter her decision.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 263 
 
 " Fool," he murmured, " why did 
 I not make my bargain?" 
 
 But he knew not Lord Elmwood. If 
 there was one bright spot in that cold 
 character, it was love and respect for that 
 young heart that lived, in the midst 
 of corruption, pure and unspotted from 
 the world.
 
 264 PASSAGES IN THE LITE 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE FAITH OF WOMAN. 
 
 SINCE Cutlibert's absence Edith had 
 never omitted a daily visit to the Fulham 
 villa. She partook in Norah's studies and 
 her pastimes. She held diligent watch over 
 her actions, almost over her thoughts. In 
 vain could Norah have attempted to escape 
 the firm vigilance of her young companion. 
 Edith was neither censorious nor sancti- 
 monious; but in her mind there was a 
 subtil ty of purity that detected at a glance
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 265 
 
 the approach even of stranger evil, that 
 shrunk instinctively from the contact of 
 moral guilt, however specious in appear- 
 ance or plausible in circumstance. 
 
 They were sitting alone some mornings 
 after Cuthberfc's departure. Norah was 
 copying the tints and form of a beautiful 
 bouquet before her. Edith was sketching 
 the beautiful girl who sat carelessly at her 
 work, her curls falling over her shoulders, 
 her fair delicate hand moving gracefully 
 over the cardboard. 
 
 Suddenly Norah threw herself back- 
 wards on the low chair she occupied. 
 
 " Do remain in your old position one 
 moment longer, dear Norah, I have just 
 finished." 
 
 " But I want to talk to you." 
 
 " Wait one moment. It will be such 
 a pretty sketch." 
 
 " Nonsense, Edith."
 
 266 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 The young lady nevertheless complied 
 with her cousin's request. 
 
 " That's not quite right yet. You must 
 really paint." 
 
 Edith perceived something of constraint 
 in the resumed pose. Norah, taking her 
 pencil, continued a heart's-ease. 
 
 "There, that will do." 
 
 Norah continued the heart's-ease. 
 
 '" I thought you wanted to talk to me." 
 
 " So I did then, but I've changed my 
 mind." 
 
 " Oh ! very well. I have finished my 
 sketch." 
 
 " Let me look at it." 
 
 The pencil was again thrown down, 
 scattering the colour over the whole 
 drawing. 
 
 " Flattering Edith." 
 
 " I never flatter, Norah believe me." 
 
 " Then if you sketch truly, how could
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 267 
 
 Cuthbert leave me so suddenly, so ab- 
 ruptly?" 
 
 "What, again, dear Norah? Have I 
 not told you of all the sad despair I saw 
 upon his face? Have I not told you of 
 his faltering voice of the tears that almost 
 poured from his eyes of all the love he 
 told me to carry to you of the intense 
 devotion to you that sways his every 
 action ?" 
 
 Norah shook her head wisely. She was 
 older than Edith, five years and more. 
 So she of course knew much more of the 
 world and its ways, had a far deeper in- 
 sight into character, was endowed with 
 perspicacity and judgment of a far higher 
 order, and consequently was not so sus- 
 ceptible of imposition. 
 
 Norah shook her head wisely once again. 
 
 " Dear little Edy, when you have 
 lived as long as I have, when you have
 
 268 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 been out five or six years, you will learn 
 to judge, not by appearances, but by facts. 
 It's all very well what you say about his 
 appearance. For me, I can only recollect 
 that, after what passed between us that 
 morning, he could run away without say- 
 ing a word of goodbye." 
 
 " But, Norah, I have no doubt that you 
 are much wiser that I." 
 
 Norah smiled with much condescension. 
 
 " I never doubted it for a moment," 
 continued Edith, " but at the same time 
 you ought to make allowances for circum- 
 stances, and you ought not to judge 
 Cuthbert like any one else." . 
 
 " They're all alike, Edy all of them. 
 But I am disposed to make allowance. 
 If he had written a line since he went, I 
 should have forgiven him." 
 
 " Really, Norah, you are unreasonable.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 269 
 
 Ireland is not like England, There are 
 few railroads and cross posts. The papers 
 say the sea has been very stormy. When 
 papa is there I know at what uncertain 
 times letters come. Ask Beaconsfield. 
 You know his place is not three miles 
 from ours. He has been there once or 
 twice lately, and he can tell you how 
 little punctuality there is in the post." 
 
 " I have asked some one who knows as 
 well as Edward, and the answer fully con- 
 firms me in my belief, that had Cuthbert 
 written when he ought to have done so, 
 we should have heard by this time." 
 
 " Whom was it you asked?" 
 
 " Ah ! that's my secret." 
 
 " You cannot deceive me, Norah, it was 
 Sir Hugh Dawnay." 
 
 "And suppose it was, what then?" 
 
 "Dear Norah, Sir Hugh Dawnay is a
 
 270 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 clever man, and probably has found out 
 Cuddle's secret. He is Cuthbert's enemy, 
 and would say nothing in his favour." 
 
 " Little wiseacre ! You want to find a 
 pretext for having refused him." 
 
 Edith blushed crimson. A woman she 
 was gentle, a St. Elme she was proud. 
 
 " I refused him, Norah, because I could 
 not like him. No pretexts were neces- 
 sary. Nay more, Norah." Edith was 
 gradually losing a certain portion of that 
 equanimity, her usual characteristic, and 
 consequently relapsing into a state of 
 non sequitur truly feminine. 
 
 "Nay more, Norah," she said with 
 energy, "it is you who are trying to find 
 pretexts for your conduct. I believe at 
 present you care for Cuthbert more than 
 for any one else ; but you allow yourself 
 to be prejudiced against him, and canvass 
 every one to find reasons for your con-
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 271 
 
 duct. You will repent it some day, 
 Norah. If you only knew " 
 
 " Knew what, dear ?" answered Norah, 
 smiling. Women of Norah's stamp have 
 a diabolical command of temper. 
 
 Edith was silent. 
 
 " Well, dear, as you wont answer me, 
 and as I do not intend to listen to any 
 further preaching from a little girl like 
 you, I shall go and get ready for my ride. 
 So, Lady Edith, allow me to wish you 
 goodbye, and to hope that the next time 
 we meet you will have recovered your 
 temper." 
 
 " Forgive me, Norah." 
 
 "I do," answered the latter, with a kiss 
 of much generosity. 
 
 " Who is going to ride with you?" 
 
 " Edward and Julia and Mr. Burney. 
 Will you corne ? It is such a beautiful 
 day?"
 
 272 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 " No, thank you, I promised to drive 
 with marnrna. She will be here in half an 
 hour." 
 
 Norah left the room. The younger 
 girl watched her departure in silence. 
 How many thoughts were contending in 
 her mind. Cuthbert's fate was sealed. 
 Did Edith regret it? Perhaps it was 
 better for him, after all. Yet it would 
 cause him deep, deep grief. 
 
 A servant brought some letters. 
 
 " Are there any for Lady Norah ?" in- 
 quired Edith. 
 
 " Yes, my Lady, three." 
 
 Edith took them. As she anticipated, 
 they were all three directed in Cuthbert's 
 handwriting. 
 
 With a light foot she ran through the 
 passage, and up the wide staircase. At 
 length, breathless, she opened Norah's 
 door.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 273 
 
 " Here, dear Norah, here are the three 
 letters." 
 
 "Indeed, Edith! Pray put them on the 
 table, and I will read them as soon as I 
 am dressed." 
 
 Edith's heart sank as she obeyed. In 
 silence and with looks downcast she 
 turned to leave the room. 
 
 Cuthbert's fate, indeed, was sealed. 
 She scarcely dared analyze her feelings. 
 Ought she to lament his agony ? Again 
 the saving clause recurred to her mind. 
 Perhaps it was better for him. Yet it 
 would cause him bitter hours, deep, deep 
 regret. 
 
 She sighed as she descended the stairs 
 at a pace far different from that with 
 which, the bearer of fancied good tidings, 
 she had sought her cousin's chamber. 
 
 Instinctively she sought the morning 
 room appropriated to Lady Beaconsfield. 
 
 VOL. i. T
 
 274 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 Slowly and pensively she moved to the 
 chair usually occupied by the kind old 
 lady. It was, of course, vacant. Lady 
 Beaconsfield had not yet appeared. But 
 the room was not vacant. Some one was 
 sitting in the oriel window, commanding 
 a view of the garden and the bright 
 winding Thames. It was a man evidently 
 advanced in years, though the girl could 
 not perceive his face. She was about to 
 retire when he turned and revealed the 
 features of Barralevski.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 275 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 A HIDDEN CHORD. 
 
 " WHAT a delightful surprise !" he said, 
 rising with difficulty. 
 
 Edith's expressive face evinced unmis- 
 takeable pleasure at the meeting. Often 
 had she thought of the interesting old 
 man to whom she had never bidden fare- 
 well. His was a nature to inspire confi- 
 dence if not affection in the young and 
 generous. 
 
 " I little anticipated this pleasure," re 
 
 T 2
 
 276 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 peated Barralevski, as he led Edith to a 
 seat by his side. " We meet in different 
 scenes, but always in scenes of beauty. 
 When last I saw you, it was under the 
 pale melancholy moonlight of Fiesole. 
 We looked at the romantic, uncertain 
 beauty of a romantic, uncertain country. 
 We could scarcely sound the reality of the 
 landscape before us. Now we meet in 
 England, beautiful England, mathematical 
 England, where there is no surface, but 
 where all is real and above-board. A 
 child can feel the beauty of this pastoral 
 scene, and of that river, winding between 
 those banks of verdure, rising in the 
 country, flowing placidly like an English 
 mind, to the sea. I was thinking of this 
 when I heard you approach me. I turn, 
 and find the genius of the scene." 
 
 Tears sprang to the eyes of Edith. She 
 had undergone much emoiion during
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 277 
 
 the day, too much for her self-posses- 
 sion. 
 
 " Yet, I love Italy," she answered ; " I 
 should have been very happy there; but 
 my poor little brother " 
 
 The tears ran very fast. Her brother 
 was not the only recollection. Yet, how 
 she had loved that child ! How often had 
 she wept at the absence even of his com- 
 plaints and unceasing exigencies ! Never 
 once had she lost patience even at his 
 most unreasonable demands. Yet her 
 heart smote her, for perhaps she might 
 have done more for him. 
 
 The Russian held his peace, and she 
 was comforted. After a short struggle 
 she regained composure. 
 
 "Have you seen my aunt?" she asked. 
 
 " Lady Beaconsfield, you mean ? I 
 was not aware she stood in that relation- 
 ship^towards you."
 
 278 PASSAGES IS THE LIFE 
 
 " She does not." Edith smiled. The 
 smile was forced, but gradually it attained 
 a semblance of reality. " She is not, in 
 fact, my aunt ; but sometimes in England 
 we give that title to some very dear and 
 intimate, though, perhaps, distant con- 
 nexion. Cousin sounds so young, and 
 implies so little respect Lady Beacons- 
 field is so formal." 
 
 "I understand; you make a little com- 
 promise of affection. "Well, no I have 
 not seen your aunt." 
 
 Edith smiled again, and the Russian 
 smiled likewise. He continued 
 
 "I have known Lady Beaconsfield 
 many years." 
 
 " Indeed ! I wonder Edward never 
 told me so at Florence." 
 
 " I dare say he had never heard my 
 name. I first had the honour of making 
 her acquaintance at a fete given in this
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 279 
 
 very villa, years before any of you 
 young people were born. Lord and Lady 
 Beaconsfield had not long been married 
 when I met them. At that time I bore 
 another name, since changed by the 
 favour of the Emperor, my master. They 
 were very kind to me in England, and I 
 have taken the liberty of calling on your 
 aunt, in the hope of being allowed to renew 
 what I may venture to call ourfriendship." 
 
 " I really don't know if she recognizes 
 her old friend under his new name ; but 
 I am sure she never forgets anybody. As 
 Monsieur de Barralevski you are well 
 known to her, as we have often talked of 
 you since our return." 
 
 ; ' The mysterious Russian, I suppose,'' 
 smiled that individual, " generally reputed 
 to be a spy, and who left Florence one 
 morning without saying a word or leaving 
 his direction."
 
 280 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 There was too much truth in the sur- 
 mise for an ingenuous contradiction 
 Edith was ingenuousness personified. 
 
 " I cannot say that your sudden depar- 
 ture was never mentioned, but you may 
 depend upon it we had a great deal more 
 to say of you." 
 
 " I suppose Sir Hugh Dawnay dwelt 
 on the spy, Mr. St. Elme on the depar- 
 ture, and you were kind enough to say 
 that an old man who seemed to have tra- 
 velled a good deal told you some things 
 about Italy you had not known before ?" 
 
 "I assure you, Cuthbert and I have 
 recollected all you told us, and with gra- 
 titude. We are perpetually quoting your 
 observations ; so many things you said are 
 applicable to every day circumstances." 
 
 The Russian bowed. 
 
 "And Mr. St. Elme he is gone to
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 281 
 
 Ireland, I hear. I longed to see him and 
 congratulate him on his successes. He 
 deserves success." 
 
 " Does he not !" exclaimed Edith, with 
 animation. 
 
 " Indeed he does." 
 
 A servant entered the room. 
 
 " If you please, sir, my lady desires me 
 to say, that she answered your letter, and 
 begged you to come at two. Her ladyship 
 supposes that you did not receive her 
 note ; but she hopes that if you are not 
 engaged, you will stay to luncheon, when 
 her ladyship will be down. It wants about 
 an hour, sir, to luncheon time." 
 
 " Will you tell her ladyship," answered 
 the Eussian with considerable fluency, 
 " that I have not received her note, and 
 that I hope she will pardon my indiscre- 
 tion in coming so early. I did so, thinking
 
 282 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 that perhaps at a later hour, she might 
 not be at home. I shall be happy to wait 
 till her ladyship can receive me." 
 
 " And if you please, my Lady, her 
 ladyship desires me to say that she hopes 
 you will show the gentleman the garden." 
 
 " Certainly. Is Lady Norah gone 
 yet?" 
 
 " She's just mounting, my lady." 
 
 The sound of horses feet was heard at 
 some distance. Edith turned towards a 
 corner window, followed by her com- 
 panion. 
 
 The little cavalcade was trotting merrily 
 down the avenue; Lord Beaconsfield by 
 the side of his betrothed, Norah laughing 
 gaily between her two cavaliers, Mr. 
 Burney and Sir Hugh Dawnay. 
 
 " They are gone too far to recall them," 
 said Edith. 
 
 " Never mind for me, my young friend,
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 283 
 
 I shall have opportunities doubtless of 
 renewing or making the acquaintance. If 
 you therefore will not be ennuye by an 
 hour's conversation with an old man, I 
 shall feel more than satisfied. Come, will 
 you show me the garden? I was once 
 your Cicerone will you reciprocate the 
 office?" 
 
 " With pleasure;" but I fear the return 
 will not be worthy of the original gift. I 
 know nothing about Fulham." 
 
 But the Russian seemed quite at home, 
 and for a few minutes he conversed gaily 
 about the Thames, its history, bishops of 
 London, lord mayors, and swans, as fami- 
 liarly as he had formerly discoursed of 
 scenes and actions far different. 
 
 At length, and by slow degrees, they had 
 reached the bank of the river that spot 
 where not many days before Lord Elm- 
 wood and his follower had played with
 
 284 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 honour and with happiness as with the 
 ivory puppets of a chessboard. 
 
 The Russian, who moved with diffi- 
 culty, halted for a moment to recover 
 his strength. The day was intensely hot. 
 Some chairs stood under an umbrageous 
 elm. The Russian seated himself ; and 
 Edith, taking a small rustic stool, placed 
 herself at his side. It was a pretty picture, 
 those two earnest beings under that out- 
 spread tree, by the side of the flowing river. 
 
 They might have been grandfather and 
 grandchild. 
 
 " Here we are," said the old man, 
 " seated under the tree, from which you 
 take your name. It is a fine old tree, 
 coeval perhaps with your lineage. Why 
 not accept the suggestion offered by 
 nature, and talk of your family. To 
 me at least the subject would be of in- 
 terest?"
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 285 
 
 " Why do you not talk English, Count 
 Barralevski ? You speak it so well much 
 better than I speak French." 
 
 " Did I not flatter myself I had a know- 
 ledge of your character, I should say you 
 wished for flattery." 
 
 Barralevski in conversation never took 
 his piercing eyes from those of his interlo- 
 cutor. 
 
 Edith looked up towards him. In that 
 soft face there were but few vanities. 
 
 The Russian however could not be 
 turned from his subject. Edith did not 
 court the topic he had offered. He con- 
 tinued 
 
 " How do you know I can speak English? 
 You have heard me say but a few words : 
 have you heard it from Mr. Cuthbert?" 
 Again Edith turned her eyes upward. 
 
 "Yes," she answered, "he did." 
 
 " Do me ^a favour," resumed the
 
 286 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 Russian ; " ask me not to speak in your 
 tongue. It is true I am conversant with 
 English, as my education has made me 
 with most languages ; but it is the language 
 to which I feel the least reconciled, and 
 indeed recalling no happy associations. 
 Even with you, I do not connect the 
 recollection of English accents. But you 
 say your cousin told you of my know- 
 ledge of English. He has given you 
 information about me : cannot you give 
 me some news of his fortunes?" 
 
 The girl sat with her hands before her 
 meditatively. 
 
 The Russian inspired her with confi- 
 dence, and even with a desire to open her 
 heart to him on the subject of her well 
 loved cousin. Still she could not over- 
 come her natural reluctance to transgress 
 the pale of family secrecy. She might 
 say much, it is true, without compromising
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 287 
 
 the character of her parents. But she 
 felt scarce warranted in opening to a stran- 
 ger the arcana of her kin, she scarcely 
 dare own to a foreigner the intrigue fo- 
 mented in the heart of an English family. 
 
 Then turning to him her soft, earnest 
 eyes, she looked wistfully at her friend. 
 Little did she surmise the extent of his 
 knowledge. Little could she realize the 
 acuteness of that perspicacity, the only 
 reward of life's hard lessons, the dreary 
 gift of adversity, bestowed too late when 
 there are no more friendships to detect in 
 hollo wness, no more enmities to conciliate. 
 
 So Edith looked wistfully at the Rus- 
 sian. A slight argument was alone 
 wanting to turn the balance. The old 
 man felt the power of his age. With a 
 word he could elicit all the revelations he 
 required. But it was not in his nature 
 to entrap the artless.. Fairly and frankly
 
 288 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 would he obtain the information for which 
 he appeared so anxious. Once more he 
 spoke to her, as was is wont, reading her 
 thoughts. 
 
 " You hesitate to tell me all you know. 
 You are doubting as to the reasons of my 
 curiosity." 
 
 Edith by a motion of the head gave a 
 negative. The man of the world was at 
 fault. Edith knew not doubt. 
 
 He resumed. 
 
 " At least you are reluctant to tell to 
 
 a stranger the little secrets of your cousin- 
 hood." 
 
 Edith smiled assent. 
 
 " You think because you are his second 
 cousin that your interest in Cuthbert's 
 fate must be greater than mine." 
 
 This time she answered in words. 
 
 " It ought to be, if it is not. I believe 
 it is. Even among relations who have
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 289 
 
 quarrelled, there is something in the men- 
 tion of a relation's name different from 
 the mention of any other person. Nothing 
 can make them absolute strangers. 
 When, instead of quarrelling, there sub- 
 sists a firm affection, the interest felt 
 for one's cousin must be stronger than 
 the mere friendship of inclination." 
 
 " Amiable. philosopher! You therefore 
 believe that the interest of a young 
 English lady for her cousin, whom she has 
 known only of late years, is greater than 
 that of an old Russian for a young 
 English politician, with whom he has 
 been acquainted for about the same 
 period." 
 
 Edith disliked the sudden change in 
 the tone of her companion. 
 
 " I do believe so," she answered firmly. 
 " You may have known my cousin as 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 long as I have, but you have seen him less 
 constantly." 
 
 " True." 
 
 The Bussian paused. He seemed for 
 a moment absorbed in his reflections. 
 Then his countenance resumed that soft- 
 ness evinced but to few. With Edith he 
 did not practise those arts which fortify 
 man against his fellow. 
 
 " You are right," he said, " as far as 
 you can tell. The claims of Cuthbert on 
 your affection are greater than on mine. 
 Would you confide in me if I showed you 
 that your suppositions are erroneous. I 
 know enough of your character to feel 
 that with you there is no danger that a 
 secret will be violated. If I tell you 
 mine, and prove my right to your confi- 
 dence, will ycu associate me in your 
 efforts for your cousin's welfare? Will
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 291 
 
 you give me your advice, and allow me to 
 offer mine ?" 
 
 "Indeed I will." Perhaps Edith 
 thought that none could emulate her 
 affection for her cousin. Perhaps she 
 was right. Such a circumstance was not 
 a startling improbability. Yet, she wanted 
 an adviser. Heaven knows that amongst 
 her friends there were none to whom she 
 could reveal the secrets of her heart and 
 thoughts. 
 
 Barralevski leant forward. Glancing 
 furtively on either side, round the garden, 
 to the house, and on the river, he beckoned 
 the girl to approach him. A deep still- 
 ness was spread around. The rustle of 
 her light step on the grass was distinctly 
 audible as she moved to catch his words. 
 Her face was bent close to his ; and the 
 Russian watched the flush of deep anxiety 
 
 u 2
 
 292 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 on that fair countenance. His whisper 
 was so low that none could have heard 
 him but his one listener. He spoke but 
 a few words. Edith lifted her head once 
 more, motionless with wonder. 
 
 " Do you require proofs ?" he asked. 
 
 She could not speak, but her eyes re- 
 fused the offer. Nevertheless, the Russian 
 proceeded in his task. He took from his 
 breast a small wooden casket, curiously 
 worked. Opening it with a spring he 
 gave it into the hand of the young girl. 
 It contained a miniature with soft blue 
 eyes. On^the miniature there lay a ring. 
 It was the fac-simile of Cuthbert's. 
 
 "You can open the ring," he said. But 
 the young girl closed the box, and re- 
 turning it to the owner, resumed her seat 
 by his side.
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 293 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIY. 
 
 YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 FOR some time the silence was unbroken. 
 The old man leaning with his head and 
 hands on his staff, seemed lost in a reverie. 
 The girl sat still in wonder at the startling 
 revelation. 
 
 The old man was thinking of years 
 gone by, when from that very spot he had 
 watched the flowing river ; of life, that had 
 flowed past him towards the great un- 
 bounded sea, almost as unconsciously,
 
 294 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 equally careless to his fate, as little checked 
 by his desires. And yet on that calm, 
 lofty brow there was little trace of sadness 
 in the meditation. 
 
 " Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas." 
 
 The young maiden was thinking but little 
 of the past. The drama of life was just 
 opening before her. One incident had 
 amazed her in the romance. How many 
 more would she encounter ere the plot 
 should be unfolded, ere the conclusion 
 should commence. 
 
 The first to speak was the Russian. 
 But a few minutes were wanting to the 
 hour which was to interrupt the conver- 
 sation. Meanwhile much was to be dis- 
 covered to guide his actions actions 
 bearing on the fate of the young man, 
 the object of so great solicitude. 
 
 He turned cheerfully towards Edith to
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 295 
 
 demand her performance of the contract. 
 With equal cheerfulness she responded to 
 the summons. 
 
 " Perhaps you would prefer answering 
 my questions." he inquired, "to making me 
 a speech." Again had the Russian read 
 her thoughts. Answers she might easily 
 frame, so as to remove her parents from 
 the discussion. It were difficult not to 
 involve them in the web of a long story. 
 
 " Well then, in the first place, is there 
 not some kind of engagement between 
 Cuthbert and Lady Norah Sullivan ?" 
 
 " There certainly is." 
 
 " Has the engagement received the 
 sanction of Lady Beaconsfield and her 
 son?" 
 
 " To a certain extent. Nothing has 
 ever been said; but Lady Beaconsfield 
 knows the existence of their attachment, 
 and does not oppose it; while Edward,
 
 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 who almost adores Cuthbert, gives him 
 open encouragement. In fact Edward 
 has told me that if ever Cuthbert does 
 marry Norah, he will take care to make 
 arrangements to secure them an ample 
 income." 
 
 " His is a noble nature, that young 
 Lord's. But why, under such circum- 
 stances, has not the marriage already 
 taken place?" 
 
 " For several reasons. In the first place, 
 Cuthbert would not be dependent on 
 his wife. In the second place, Lady 
 Beaconsfield did not approve of their 
 marriage so very young. Cuthbert, how- 
 ever, is now satisfied, as he finds he can 
 make a large income by his pen, and I 
 think it might have been settled almost 
 immediately but for his sudden departure. 
 Now I do not know when it will take 
 place."
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 297 
 
 " Then his departure has some connec- 
 tion with his marriage?" 
 
 There was a sudden fall in the girl's 
 countenance. Her looks rather than her 
 words expressed the affirmative. 
 
 " Pray tell me, not only the truth I 
 know it is not in your nature to do other- 
 wise but tell me all your thoughts on 
 the subject. It is indeed of great import- 
 ance that I should know all. Is Lady 
 Norah less firm than you would have her?" 
 
 " I feel there should be no concealment 
 from you. Norah has taken offence at 
 Cuthbert's sudden departure the very day 
 on which she had told him that her love 
 was unshaken. She is very beautiful and 
 naturally much admired. I am afraid she 
 is not insensible to admiration." 
 
 " And is there any one in particular 
 whose admiration appears acceptable?" 
 
 " I think so. You must know that
 
 298 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 since Cuthbert' s return to England he has 
 been much absorbed in all his plans and 
 occupations. In the meanwhile as Edward 
 is going to be married, Norah has seen 
 much of the Burneys, and I think she has 
 talked more to Mr. Burney than was 
 necessary. Since Cuthbert went away, 
 he has ridden with his sister arid Norah 
 almost every day." 
 
 " Then have you any reason to think 
 that he has had any share in diminishing 
 Lady Norah's affections for Cuthbert?" 
 
 " Yes, but not intentionally. So long as 
 Cuthbert was in England he evidently 
 avoided as much as he could all intimacy 
 with Norah. But since Cuthbert has been 
 away, I am afraid some bad influence has 
 been at work to persuade him that Norah's 
 engagement is broken off. Julia Burney 
 told me as much."
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 299 
 
 " That influence, I suppose, is Sir Hugh 
 Dawnay's?" 
 
 " I am afraid " 
 
 " I always mistrusted him. There is 
 treachery in his name. But, tell me, was 
 there no bad influence at work that 
 caused Cuthbert to run away so suddenly 
 in the midst of all his successes in poli- 
 tics, in literature, and in love?" 
 
 " There was indeed." 
 
 She was silent for a moment. At 
 length, with faltering voice, she told her 
 story. Poor girl ! It was a hard task to 
 speak the truth and yet to conceal it, to 
 waver between two duties, to save her 
 cousin and yet to save her parents. 
 
 " There was great jealousy of Cuthbert 
 on account of his speech, and a fear that 
 his influence on others might do an injury 
 to the Opposition. Sir Hugh Dawnay
 
 300 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE 
 
 knew that it was necessary, for papa's 
 affairs in Ireland, that some one of the 
 name and family should go there. He 
 thought that in Cuthbert's absence, by 
 promoting the marriage of Mr. Burney 
 with Norah, he might sever the political 
 connection between Cuthbert and the 
 Burney family, and prevent Cuthbert 
 making a speech he intended. He there- 
 fore suggested Cuthbert to papa, who was 
 in great perplexity about his Irish pro- 
 perty." 
 
 The brow of the Russian contracted as 
 Edith told her artless story. Were Cuth- 
 bert's fortunes and happiness to be sacri- 
 ficed to a name which had already lost 
 him his parents, or to the success of a 
 low political intriguer ? 
 
 But he spoke no word. 
 
 The girl was guiltless. Why should
 
 OF A POLITICIAN. 301 
 
 he wring her heart by telling the treachery 
 of her parents? 
 
 Yet now the parts were reversed, and 
 Edith divined his thoughts. 
 
 " Indeed, indeed," she said, " papa 
 knew nothing of Sir Hugh's intentions. 
 Pray, believe me, nothing, nothing at all 
 not a word." 
 
 " Of course I believe you. Yet you 
 have given me bad news. The political 
 intrigue has failed. The opposition has 
 been routed. Cuthbert's pamphlet was 
 a judgment on them. But do you 
 think the underplot will be successful? 
 Have you good reasons for believing 
 Lady Norah unfaithful to her betrothed ? 
 The word is hard, but the truth is 
 necessary." 
 
 " Yes, it will be too successful." Then 
 she narrated the incidents of the morning :
 
 302 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE, ETC. 
 
 her arguments with her cousin, the arrival 
 of the letters, the ride with the Burneys. 
 
 The Russian reassumed his mastery 
 
 " And perhaps you may think after all 
 it is for the best?" 
 
 Edith blushed crimson. 
 
 In reading her heart the Russian had 
 taught her its secrets. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 Sumfleld & Jones, Printers, West Harding Street, Fetter Lane.
 
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