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. b< ' O-o ?ti ,ril" : '- ^'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. A 000130328