What Will He Do With It, Book 5.
use.-The British Constitutio
perb family united its motley scions. Such reunions were frequent: they belonged to the hereditary policy of the House of Vipont. On this occasion the muster of the clan was more significant than usual; there was a "CRISES" in the constitutional history of the British empire. A new Government had been suddenly formed w
lliant society of which he had been long the ornament and centre,-railways not then existing for the annihilation of time and space, and a journey to a northern county four days with posthorses making the invitations even of a Marquess of Montfort unalluring to languid beauties and gouty ministers. But nearing the end of his worldly career, this long neglect of the dwelling identified with his hereditary title
he Russian Emperor Alexander; that vase of Sevres which rests on it was made for Marie Antoinette,-see her portrait enamelled in its centre. Through the open door at the far end your eye loses itself in a vista of other pompous chambers,-the music-room, the st
om, attracts a younger group. Lady Selina Vipont's eldest daughter, Honoria, a young lady not yet broug
etness, lon
sympathizing spouse of a wealthy statesman. Lady Montfort is seated by an elderly duchess, who is good-natured and a great talker; near
rtment. Single himself, he showed his respect for wedlock by the interest he took in the marriages of other people; just as Earl Warwick, too wise to set up for a king, gratified his passion for royalty by becoming the king-maker. The Colonel was exceedingly accomplished, a very fair scholar, knew most modern languages. In painting an amateur, in music a connoisseur; witty at times, and with wit of a high quality, but thrifty in the expenditure of it; too wise to be known as a wit. Manly too, a daring rider, who had won many a fox's brush; a famous deer-stalker, and one of the few English gentlemen who still keep up the noble art of fencing,-twice a week to be seen, foil in hand, against all comers in Angelo's rooms. Thin, well- shaped,-not handsome, my dear young lady, far from it, but with an air so thoroughbred that, had you seen him in the day when the opera-house had a crushroom and a fops' alley,-seen him in either of those resorts, surrounded by elaborate dandies and showy beauty-men, dandies and beauty- men would have seemed to you secondrate and vulgar; and the eye, fascinated by that quiet form,-plain in manner, plain in dress, plain in feature,-you would have said, "How very distinguished it is to be so plain!" Knowing the great world from the core to the cuticle, and on that knowledge basing authority and position, Colonel Morley was not calculating, not cunning, not suspicious,-his sagacity the more quick because its movements were straightforward; intimate with the greatest, but sou
legitimate indefeasible right to share in the administration and patronage of an empire, on which (to use a novel illustration) "the sun never sets." You might want nothing for yourself; the Colonel and the Marquess equally wanted nothing for themselves but man is not to be a selfish egotist! Man has cousins: his cousins may want something. Demosthenes denounces, in words that inflame every manly breast, the ancient Greek who does not love his POLIS or State, even though he take nothing from it but barren honour, and
has taken orders,-his defect in speech, if not quite removed, has ceased to be any obstacle, even to eloquence; an occasional stammer may be effective,-it
ponts seldom take to the Church kindly: George must be pushed. The more I think of it, the more we want a bishop: a bishop would be useful in the present CRISIS." (Looking round the rooms proudly, and softening his voice), "A numerous gathering, Morley! Th
r connections,- the one who could indeed strike terror
to communicate with any of us; the only connection that ever fell away from the House of Vipont, especially in a CRISIS like the
ontfort, you have hurt yours
eed. Hush! we are distu
Vipont, sinks her voice, a
ubject).-"A very fine fortu
know; but I had a letter
You had, and n
introduced to me a charming young fellow,-a kinsman of his own (no Vipon
went to the dogs. So Darrell takes
ter to me he anticipated th
as Darrell any
EY.-"Not tha
t one of his wife's family for his
-"I should. But why may
t he would; I t
that so great an intellect should be suspended,-a voice so eloquent hushed. You are right; in this CRISIS, Guy Darrell once more in the
ORLEY.-"Y
fine-looking fellow when I last saw him: not old yet; I dare say well preserved. I wish I had thought of asking him here-Montfort!" (Lord Montfort, with one or two male friends, was pa
I don't choose Guy Darrell
contumacious. Lord Montfort demur at what Carr V
are joking. A monstrous clever fell
id Lord Montfort, breaking from the caress
ered round the piano. A little time afterwards Lady Montfort escaped from the Duchess, and, mingling courteously with her livelier guests, found herself close to Colonel Morl
s if well,-cheerful? You remember that I was much with his daughter, much in his house,
with a man like myself, indolent by habit and obscure out of Mayfair. I know his nature; we both know something of his family sorrows. He cannot be happy! Impossible!-alone, childless, secluded. Poor Darrell, abroad now; in Verona, too!-the dullest place! in mourning still for Romeo and Juliet! 'T is your t
no!" The game proceeded; the Colonel was within three moves of checkmating his adversary. Forgetting
, what makes Montfort
rel
onel Morley!" She rose; and as he restored the chessme
will he not be a co
ill provide for him, that is all. A very gentlemanlike young man; gone to Paris by my advice; wants polish and knowle
, and, after a pause, s
ened; her lip was quivering; she placed her hand on his shoulder with a wife-like boldness. It seemed as if she had come there to seek him from an impulse of affection. She asked with a hurried fluttering kindness of voice, if he had been successful, and called
ort," said he then, and, reti
-room, and for the rest of the evening was unusually animated, gracious, fascinating. As she retired
d she, "my old play-fellow; impossible