PART VI.

THE "----."

PICCADILLY, _July 1_.

I am now about to venture upon the very thinnest ice upon which fool

ever rushed. The fact is, I am morally trembling like an aspen; but

somebody must do it. I have put it off for five months, and tried to

work up my courage by hammering away at the fashionable world, but they

take it like lambs. Dear people, whatever their vices may be, they never

resent criticism. Whether their consciences tell them they are superior

to it, or whether they have not got consciences, I don't know, but, on

the whole, the fashionable world is an easy, good-natured world; but oh,

not so that other world, which is still essentially "the world," and

very necessary to keep unspotted from, though it is thankful that it is

not as that other world is, from which in its humility it takes care to

distinguish itself by the self-applied epithet of "religious." It

grieves me to think of the number of my friends whom I shall pain by

presuming to touch upon this subject, to say nothing of the righteous

indignation I shall call down from those whose function it has been to

give, not take, reproof. The great art of the "worldly-holies"--not, I

believe, deliberately practised, but insensibly acquired--is to confuse

in the minds of the poor dear "wholly-worldlies" the sublime religion

which they profess, with their mode of professing it. So they would have

it to be understood that, when you find fault with their practices, you

are reflecting upon that very religion, the precepts of which they seem

to some utterly to ignore. The "religious world" is no more composed of

exclusively good men and women than the Episcopalian Church is. I will

even venture to go further, and say that the good men and women in it

are a very small minority, judging only from the public performances of

the "worldly-holies" in matters in which humility, sincerity,

self-sacrifice, and toleration, are concerned. And if you want a proof

of it, ask your friends in the religious world if they agree in what I

say of it, and the very few you may find who do, will be that small

minority of whom I speak.

I am perfectly ready to admit that I have no more right to preach to

them than they have to preach to me. I only ask those among them who are

sincere, to believe that I am actuated by the same desire to improve

them that they are to do good to me. It is not merely in their own

interest, but in the interest of their fellow-men, that I venture to

write thus, and to point out to them that, if they "lived the life,"

instead of talking the talk, they might attract instead of repelling

that other world which they condemn. It is not living the life to form a

select and exclusive society, with its vanities and its excitements, and

its scandals and its envyings and jealousies, which keeps itself aloof

from the worldly world, on the ground that it professes and represents a

religion of love. Those who sit in Moses' seat are not on that account

examples of the "life;" on the contrary, "whatsoever they bid you

observe, that observe and do; but do not ye after their works, for they

say and do not."

Above all, do not confound the Pharisee with the religion, or suppose

that an attack on the one in any way implies irreverence towards the

other. This is a very important distinction to make, as I am about to

describe a religious entertainment at Lady Broadhem's with the religion

left out, which will draw down upon me much odium. There is, in fact, no

stronger proof of the force and despotic power of the Phariseeism of the

present day, than the unpopularity which one incurs by attempting to

expose it. Christians, in the real sense of the term, were always told

to expect persecution and now, as in old time, the quarter from which it

comes is the religious world. It is a hard saying, and one which,

unfortunately, nobody has yet been found worthy to prove; but whenever

he comes into this city of London, who can embody in himself the life

and live it, he will be repudiated by the "worldly holies."

"The Countess of Broadhem requests the pleasure of Lord Frank

Vanecourt's company at a conversazione on Thursday the 22d, at nine

o'clock.

"The Bishop of the Caribbee Islands will give some account of the

mission-work in his diocese."

That was the form of the card; and at nine punctually I responded to the

invitation which it contained.

For the benefit of those of my readers who have never been admitted

within the sacred precincts of the religious world, I should tell them

that there is nothing in their outward appearance to distinguish them

from the other world. The old ladies come in, followed by trains of

daughters, furbelowed and flounced by the same dressmakers who clothe

worldly people; but there is a greater variety of men--the older ones

are often snuffy, and look unwashed. They constantly wear thick boots,

and their black waistcoats are not embroidered, and button higher up,

which gives them a more staid appearance. They are generally pervaded by

an air of complacency and calm superiority, and converse in measured

unctuous accents, checkered by beaming smiles when they are not

contradicted. The youths, on the other hand, present in most cases an

intellectually weak aspect. They are quite as much addicted to flirting

with the young ladies as if they belonged to the other world, but want

that hardihood, not to say impertinence, which characterises the

lavender-gloved tribe who are still heathens. The arrangement of the

room is somewhat that of a private concert, only instead of a piano is a

table, behind which are seated Joseph Caribbee Islands, Chundango, and

several other lay and clerical performers. In the centre of this table

is a vase, which Joseph hopes to see filled with subscriptions before

the proceedings terminate. There is a suspicion, however, that things

may not go off quite smoothly, as a lay member present, who does a good

deal of amateur preaching, intends to take him to task about certain

unsound views which we knew our friend Joseph entertains. I am sorry to

say that some of the young gentlemen leaning in the doorway, where I

stand, anticipate this encounter with apparent satisfaction. Among them

is Broadhem, who has never once taken his eyes off Wild Harrie. That

young lady is more plainly dressed than anybody else in the room. Her

hair is neatly and modestly drawn back. She might have risked a larger

chignon, but she had never been to an entertainment of this kind before,

and did not know how they dressed; her eyes are only now and then

furtively raised, and she takes a quick glance round the room, winding

up with Broadhem; and a twitching at the corners of her mouth makes me

envy Amy Rumsort, who will, no doubt, receive a most graphic and

embellished report of the whole affair. There is a good deal of

murmuring and rustling and getting into places, and a few hardy men

manage to squeeze themselves next the crinoline of their especial

desire, and then they go on whispering and tittering to each other, till

Joseph says in a very loud tone--Ahem!

On which a general silence. It seems as impossible and incongruous for

me to write here what now takes place, as it did at the time to take

part in it. It requires no stretch of imagination on the part of my

readers to divine what movement it was which caused the next general

rustle. Remember that a great proportion of these young ladies were

brought here by their mammas, and in their secret souls would have

rather been at a ball; but their mammas disapproved of balls, and made

them do this instead. Now, tell me, which was most wrong? I knew of one

young lady, at least, whose object in coming was not to do what she was

then doing. How many young men would have been there had there been no

young ladies? and what were they all thinking about now? And as I looked

at the subscription-vase, and listened to the monotonous voice of a

"dear Christian friend" behind it, who had been called upon to open the

proceedings, I thought, Can it be possible that these are those of whom

it is said, "they devour widows' houses, and for a pretence make long

prayer"? Can it be possible to put anything into that vase without the

right hand knowing what the left hand is doing, and all the people

seeing both hands? Is not "the trumpet" even now being "sounded" by "the

hypocrites" that they may have "glory of men"? Is there, in fact, any

difference, practically, between kneeling in Lady Broadhem's

drawing-room, by way of an after-dinner entertainment, and loving "to

pray standing in the synagogues, and in the corners of the streets, that

you may be seen of men"? Is there any part of a clergyman's dress called

a phylactery; and if so, when he becomes a bishop, does the hem of it

become broader? and if it was wrong for a priest in Jerusalem, eighteen

hundred years ago, to be called "Rabbi, Rabbi," is it less wrong for one

in London now to be called "My lord, My lord"?

I was thinking how much more usefully Bishop Colenso would have been

employed in pointing out those anomalies in the practice of his

religion, instead of the discrepancies in its records, and what a much

stronger case the Zulu might have made out against Christians if he had

known as much of the countries which they inhabit as I do, when the

rustling again became general, and the monotonous voice ceased.

"Dear Christian friends," began Joseph--and here I may remark that this

epithet is only applied by the worldly-holies to one another--one of the

chief characteristics of those who belong to the religious world being

constantly to talk as though they were a privileged few, a chosen flock,

and as though that new commandment, "that ye love one another," was

applicable only as among themselves, and consisted chiefly in addressing

one another in affectionate and complimentary terms. Even these they

withhold, not merely from the wholly-worldlies, but from those who

differ from them upon all points of doctrine which they assume to be

vital. Hence, by constantly toadying and flattering each other, they

insensibly foster that description of pride which apes humility, and

acquire that air of subdued arrogance which is so displeasing to society

at large. So when Joseph said, "Dear Christian friends," there was

clearly written on the self-satisfied faces of most of the audience,

"that is the least you can say of us," or words to that effect.

Now let me in a little more detail tell who some of these friends were.

The religious world in London being a very large and well-to-do world,

they want religious lawyers, and religious bankers, and religious

doctors; they like to get their wine from somebody who holds sound

views, but I think they cease to be so particular about the principles

of those from whom they get their bonnets.

However that may be about trades, the demand is immediately met in all

the professions, and young men starting in life with a "connection" in

the religious world must belong to it if they wish to succeed. This is

another anomaly. In former times it involved stripes, persecution,

poverty, and contumely to be a "Christian," but a "dear Christian

friend" of the present day need be afraid of none of these things. He

would never be called mad for making a profession of the views of the

early Christians; but he would if, with a good religious opening in a

professional point of view, he declined to take advantage of it. Then

look what society it gets you into--you become a sort of brother; and, I

am sorry to say, I know several young men who saw no chance of getting

into the fashionable world, and who took to the other as a good

introduction. In fact there was one standing in the doorway with me, the

son of a solicitor I knew at Dunderhead, who was in the office of his

uncle, who was Lady Broadhem's solicitor. Do you think either he or his

uncle were sincere, or that he would have ever had the slightest chance

of paying attention to Lady Bridget, which he positively had the

presumption to do, if he had not enrolled himself in the band of "dear

Christian friends"? He is a very good hand at the doctrine of love when

the people to be loved are the aristocracy. He has just invited me on

the part of his uncle to a conversazione, at which will be exhibited a

converted Aztec, and at which that Christian solicitor, whose wife is a

fat woman fanning herself in the front row, will positively induce the

great majority of those now here, including a fair sprinkling of persons

with titles, to be present.

Now far be it from me to imply that there are not earnest, sincere, and

to some extent self-sacrificing, professors of the Christian religion,

who I know will persist in mistaking me, and imagine that by writing

this I bring the religion itself into contempt. I say again that those

who bring it into the most contempt are those who profess it most, and

that it is to counteract their prejudicial influence upon society that I

venture to incur their animosity.

I shall not report Joseph's speech at length, still less attempt to

follow Chundango in his unctuous remarks, in the course of which he

lavished flattery upon his audience to an extent even beyond what they

could bear; they swallowed it, however, with tea and ices, which were

handed round, but I got so worked up at last by a smooth-faced man who

was describing what he had gone through for the sake of the heathen,

while he was living luxuriously in one of the most charming little

mission establishments which I have ever visited, that I made the

following remarks:--

"Ladies and Gentlemen,--When I came here this evening nothing was

farther from my purpose than to address you. I cannot allow, however,

the remarks of the Bishop of the Caribbee Islands, of Mr Chundango, or

of the Rev. Mr Beevy, to pass unnoticed.

"The Bishop of the Caribbee Islands, in the course of the very graphic

account which he has given you of the progress of conversion in his

diocese, and of the number of interesting and instructive deathbeds

which he has witnessed, has entered into a calculation by which it would

appear that the average cost of the conversion of a human soul in those

islands is a little over L6. Ladies, you pretend to believe that, but

you don't. It would be impossible for you to sit there with strings of

lost human souls round your necks, and what would keep an infant school

in each ear, if you really believed that you could save a soul for L6.

You come here and listen to gentlemen who give you an account of the

sacrifices they make for the heathen, and of results which do not look

so well on the spot as on paper; and because you throw a pound into that

vase in the presence of the company, you think that you have done

something for them too. 'They may give up all,' you say, 'but we can't

afford to save more than two or three souls per annum.'

"Ladies and gentlemen, as far as my experience goes, you neither of you

as a rule give up anything for the heathen. I cannot, therefore, share

in your wonder at the barren results of your missionary efforts. The

Tabernacle Missionary Society, for instance, offers to a young man of

the lower middles" (Mr Beevy's father was a butcher, so I did not like

to enter more fully into this part of the subject) "the opportunity of

becoming a reverend and a gentleman, and thus advancing a step in

society. It gives him L300 a-year to begin with, L80 a-year more with

his wife, L20 a-year with his first child, and L10 a-year with each

succeeding olive-branch. It educates these free of expense at Holloway,

and it pays an indefinite number of passages between England and the

'mission-field,' according as the health of the family requires it; and

permit me to say that, if to receive between L400 and L500 a-year in a

tolerable climate, with a comfortable house rent-free, and the prospect

of a pension at the end, is to give up all for the heathen, I have

myself made the experiment without personal discomfort. Perhaps I speak

with a certain feeling of bitterness on this subject, for I cannot

forget that upon one occasion while residing among the heathen, a

gentleman who is now present, and who had sacrificed his all for them,

outbid me for a horse at an auction after I had run him up to sixty

guineas. With such a magnificent institution as this for supplying

'purse' and 'scrip,' and for 'taking thought for the morrow' in the way

of pensions, &c., tell me honestly whether you think you deserve real,

not nominal conversions? You have instituted a sort of 'civil service,'

with which 'you compass sea and land to make one proselyte.' You go to

him with a number of bibles, Armstrong guns, drunken sailors, and

unscrupulous traders, a combination which goes to make up what you call

'civilisation,' and you wonder that your converts are actuated by the

same motive which my own Hindoo servant once told me induced him to

leave his own religion, in which he could not venture to get drunk, and

become a Christian.

"Do you think it is the fault of the religion that you don't make

converts, or the fault of the system under which it is propagated? If

you gave up 'the enticing words of man's wisdom,' and tried a little of

'the demonstration of the spirit and of power,' don't you think the

result would be different? If you are only illumined by 'a dim religious

light' yourselves, how do you expect to dissipate the gross darkness of

paganism? You have only got an imitation blaze that warms nobody at

home, and you wonder when you take it abroad that it leaves everybody as

cold and as dead as it finds them.

"My dear Christian friends, in the face of the living contradiction

which we all present in our conduct to the religion we profess, our

missionaries can only convince the heathen of the truth of Christianity

by living the life upon which that religion is based, by means of which

it can alone be powerful, and which is only now not lived by Christians,

because, as was prophesied, there is no 'faith on the earth.' I have

spoken to you faithfully, even harshly, but, believe me, I have done so

in a spirit of love. If you can take it in the same spirit, I shall feel

I have done you a great injustice."

I was so excited while delivering myself of these observations that I

was quite unconscious of the effect I was producing. I remember there

was a deathlike silence, and that when I sat down the gentlemen behind

the table looked flushed and agitated. Mr Beevy first rose to reply to

observations which, he said, reflected upon him personally, no less than

upon the society to which he was proud to say he belonged. He then

explained the circumstances under which he had been induced to give L65

for the horse; and retaliated upon me in language which I will spare my

readers now, as they will see it in the 'Discord,' when that organ of

the "worldly-holies" does me the honour to review this veracious

history. The religious world has a more choice catalogue of epithets for

their enemies than any other section of the community. I need not

therefore suggest "ribald" as appropriate to the present occasion. It

was the term applied to me by the amateur lay-preacher after Mr Beevy

sat down. Finally, the proceedings terminated in some confusion; before

they did, however, I rose again to point out how completely the conduct

of those present had proved my case--either the faults to which I

alluded existed, and there was nothing more to be said; or I had

buffeted them without cause, and they had _not_ "taken it patiently," a

course of conduct quite inexcusable in a meeting composed exclusively of

dear Christian friends. If there is a thing I yearn for, it is the love

of my fellow-men. By making the "worldly-holies" consider me an enemy, I

ought to secure an unusual share of their affection. Remember, now, if

you abuse me for this, it is unchristian; if you leave me alone, you

will be treating me "with the contempt I deserve," and that is

unchristian too; the right thing for you to do is to take the charitable

view, to admit that my motives may be good, even if the means employed

are injudicious. When I am abruptly asked in an omnibus, by an entire

stranger, who may happen to belong to the "straitest sect," the most

solemn question which one man can put to another, I do not resent it. I

believe he is sincerely trying to "awaken me" with a "word in season." I

question the taste, but I respect the motive. Do the same to me, dear

friends. We are all bad, and I am far worse than any of you; but still I

may show how bad the best of us are. By living in a fool's paradise

here, we shall not qualify ourselves for the other one to come. Depend

upon it, we are all a great deal too comfortable to be safe.

"Lord Frank," said Lady Broadhem while Joseph was emptying the vase and

pocketing the contents, and the rest of the world was beginning to

circulate, "had I known that your object in coming here this evening was

to insult my guests, I certainly should not have asked you."

"You do me an injustice, Lady Broadhem," I said. "Nothing was further

from my purpose when I came here this evening than to have said

anything. I supposed by your sending me the card that you wanted to see

me, and came; but my conscience would not allow me to remain silent

under the circumstances."

"Nothing can justify such conduct," said her ladyship, more angry than I

had ever seen her. "I cannot say how truly grateful I am that it is all

at an end between you and Ursula;" and Lady Broadhem shuddered at the

idea of having exhibited myself as I had done, if I had been her

son-in-law.

"It was to show you what an escape you had made, and reconcile you to

the disappointment, that I expressed my sentiments so strongly," I said

maliciously. All my better nature seemed to leave me as I found myself

involved in a fresh encounter with this woman, who certainly possesses

the art of raising my devil beyond any one I ever met.

"I can't talk to you now," said Lady Broadhem, who did not wish to be

too manifestly discovered without her Christian spirit, though there was

not much of it left in anybody in the room. "I see Mr Beevy coming this

way, and to avoid any unpleasantness you had better not stay any longer

just now. Come to-morrow at twelve;" and she intercepted the missionary

as he was advancing towards me with a somewhat truculent air. All this

time I had seen, but not had an opportunity of exchanging a word with

Ursula, who occupied an obscure corner, and seemed anxious to attract as

little notice as possible. I made my way to her now. She looked careworn

and nervous.

"I am afraid your remarks do not seem to have given satisfaction, Lord

Frank," she said; "and if I may venture to say so, I think you might

have said what you did in language less calculated to give offence. I

quite agreed with you in the main, but do you think you will do good by

thrusting truths home with little ceremony?"

"I caught the habit from the class I was attacking, I suppose. They

seldom realise the harm they do by their disagreeable mode of

inculcating precepts they don't practise, and they never get preached

to, though they listen to sermons twice every Sunday."

"But don't you think you fairly lay yourself open to the charge of

presumption in thus taking to task men who have made theology their

study, and in condemning a whole set of people, who, if they

occasionally are indiscreet, are most of them sincere, and certainly do

a great deal of good? Are you sure your own religious opinions are

sufficiently formed to warrant you in commenting so strongly on the

views of others?"

"I don't comment on their views, but on their conduct. While we are not

to judge others, we are also told that by their fruits we shall know

them. It does not require a profound knowledge of the dogmas of a creed

to perceive the effect it has upon those who profess it. Fortunately I

have thought for myself, and have come at last firmly to believe in the

religion, but I should never have done so had I continued to judge of it

by its professors."

"Then you think the form in which Christianity is professed and

practised prejudices the cause of true religion?" said Lady Ursula.

"I have not a doubt of it. Our friends here 'bind heavy burdens and

grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's shoulders, but they

themselves will not move them with one of their fingers.' If you will

substitute charitable bazaars for races, oratorios for operas,

conversaziones like this for balls, and otherwise conform to the

'letter' which they have established, they accept you as a brother, but

there is very little difference in the 'spirit' which pervades the

so-called religious, and that which pervades the worldly excitements.

The 'mint, anise, and cummin' are there; but the 'judgment' is

perverted, the 'mercy' limited, and the 'faith' barren. However, we are

getting into rather too theological a discussion, and Broadhem looks as

if he was anxious to interrupt us."

"I think he is quite happy where he is," replied Lady Ursula. "You know

Miss Wylde, whom he got mamma to ask here to-night, don't you?"

"A little. By the way, did he go down to Ascot after all, and did he

tell you the especial motive he had in view?"

"Yes, I recommended him to go, as I think he is too much accustomed to

walk in the groove in which he has always found himself, and as I do not

see much difference, in a matter of that kind, between wanting to go and

going. He came back thoroughly dissatisfied, having failed to do more

than exchange a few words with Miss Wylde, by whom he seems quite

infatuated. Can you tell me something about her?"

I gave Ursula an account of Wild Harrie, based on Spiffy's information,

not very flattering, I am afraid, to that young lady, and wound up with

something about putting Broadhem on his guard.

"I don't quite agree with you there," she replied; "opposition will not

improve matters in his case, and you must forgive me for not taking the

unfavourable view of Miss Wylde's character that you have given me. I

really think Broadhem has, for the first time in his life, fallen in

love, and the best way to take care of him will be to know intimately

the lady of his choice, so I shall interrupt their _tete-a-tete_ with

the view of cultivating Miss Wylde."

"But what will Lady Broadhem say to such an alliance? Miss Wylde has not

got a farthing."

"I don't think he need anticipate any opposition from mamma,--at all

events not just now," said Lady Ursula, with a sigh, and I knew there

was a secret grief which she could not tell hidden in her words. "I am

so glad that Broadhem is above the consideration of money, and has

really allowed himself to be carried away by his feelings, that I feel

quite grateful to Miss Wylde, and inclined to love her already."

"I think they are going to commence operations of some sort again," I

said, as I saw the enemies I love, but who don't return the affection,

ranging themselves behind the table; "part two is about to begin, so I

shall make my escape. Perhaps I shall see you to-morrow; I am coming to

call on Lady Broadhem," and I left Lady Ursula, and had to squeeze past

Broadhem and Wild Harrie. "You seem interested," I said to the latter,

"as you are going to stay."

"I suppose you don't intend to show any more sport, Lord Frank, as you

are going, so the best of the fun is over. I was just telling Lord

Broadhem how I enjoyed that brilliant burst of yours; it was worth

anything to watch the expressions on the countenances of all our friends

here who have 'given up the world,' and who thought they were having it

all their own way till you got up. I want Lord Broadhem to follow your

lead, but it seems he considers himself 'a dear Christian friend.' We

must break him of that, mustn't we? It is a very bad 'form.' I suppose

you don't know what that expression means," Wild Harrie went on, her

eyes dancing with mischief as she turned to Broadhem.

The struggles which that young gentleman's conscience was having with

his affections were manifestly portrayed on his countenance, and Wild

Harrie evidently was amusing herself by shocking his feelings. I must do

her the justice to say that I don't think she could play the hypocrite

if she tried; and I began to hope, as I looked at her frank reckless

face, that her sins were more on the surface than in the heart. "I

suppose you mean a form of worship," said Broadhem; "I wish you would

not talk in this way. Whenever I try to have a little serious

conversation with you, you turn it off with a joke. I must say," he

added, sententiously, "that the style of young ladies' conversation in

the present day is open to great improvement."

"I tell you what, Lord Broadhem," she retorted, "we will put each other

through a course of training; you shall improve my conversation and

'style of going' generally, while I try to bring you into a little

harder condition than you are at present. You have no idea of his

innocence, Lord Frank, considering that he is a rising statesman upon

whom the hopes of the Liberal party are fixed. I asked him just now,

apropos of the speech he threatens us with, 'if he felt fit,' and he

blushed to that degree that I felt quite shy. There was no harm in my

saying that, was there?"

"None that I know of," said I; "but we are attracting general attention

by talking so loud. Good-bye, Miss Wylde. I am afraid I must disturb

you, Broadhem; your sister can't hear where she is, and wants your

place;" and I walked off the young gentleman, to Wild Harrie's disgust,

and saw with satisfaction that Lady Ursula took his vacated seat.

"What a curious thing it is," said Broadhem, "that I should find in Miss

Wylde something which is to me so attractive! I daresay you think it odd

my taking you so much into my confidence; but, except Ursula, I have no

one to whom I can speak openly, and it is such a relief sometimes."

"On these occasions specially," said I.

"Do you know, I think that if I had her all to myself I could cure her

faults, for I am quite alive to them. Don't you think there is something

very fresh and natural about her?"

"Fresh, certainly, in what she would call the 'skittish' sense. As for

the natural part of it, I should require to know her better before

giving my opinion."

"You know," he went on, "she is the last person in the world with whom I

imagined it possible I could have been in love: she says the most

dreadful things sometimes--and I am afraid they amuse me more than they

should; there is no doubt about her being immensely clever, but she is

quite taken up with the world as yet."

"Not more than you are, my dear Broadhem; come and walk home with me:

you will be back in time to put the Wyldes into their carriage, and I

want to speak to you." I led him unresistingly to his coat and hat in

the hall, and braved the stern gaze of a butler who apparently dressed

after Mr Beevy, and who, when I arrived, had smiled blandly upon me as

being 'one of us,' for all the servants in Lady Broadhem's establishment

were guaranteed converted. "No servants, whose principles are not

strictly Evangelical, and who are unable to produce unexceptionable

testimony as to their personal piety, need apply"--that was the form of

the advertisement, and the consequence was, that every menial in the

house had brought a certificate of his or her entire change of heart

from their last place. Lady Broadhem was also very particular about the

theological views of the family they had just left.

The butler frowned severely upon me now, for he had been standing in the

doorway with the curacoa when I was addressing the meeting, no doubt

sympathising keenly with Mr Beevy (I found out afterwards that Lady

Broadhem was educating his son for the "work"), and said to Broadhem,

"Does her ladyship know you are going away, my lord?"

"No," said Broadhem, with some hesitation; "I don't think she does. I am

coming back again soon."

"I think, my lord, I shall have to let her ladyship know--perhaps your

lordship will wait. James, mind the door." This meant that James was not

to open it.

"Stop, my friend," I said; "your conscience tells you that you should

not be a party to this irregularity on the part of his lordship,--is not

that so?" I asked.

"Yes, my lord," said the butler, rigidly.

"I will accompany you to Lady Broadhem, then, to explain the

circumstances. Be good enough to follow me," and I led the way

up-stairs.

Now it so happens that I have a remarkable faculty of remembering faces,

and I had been conscious for some weeks past of being familiar with the

particularly ill-favoured countenance of Lady Broadhem's butler; but it

was not until now that the circumstances under which I had first seen it

flashed upon me. Not many years have elapsed since I achieved

considerable renown in Australia as an amateur hunter of bushrangers.

The sport exhilarated me, combining, as it did, an exciting physical

with a wholesome moral exercise. I now remembered distinctly having

caught Lady Broadhem's butler with a lasso. Indeed I had good reason not

to forget it, for a shot he fired at me at the moment killed my

favourite horse. That he should have failed to recognise in Lord Frank

Vanecourt the notorious Mr Francis who had been the means of capturing

not only himself, but a good many of his fraternity, was not wonderful.

The discovery tickled me, and restored my good temper, which had been

slightly ruffled.

"What a delightful change you must find it to be in the society of all

these good people after having passed so many years in the bush!" I

said, and my tone of anger suddenly became one of easy familiarity, as I

turned sharply upon him, and, leaning against the banisters,

benevolently scanned his distorted physiognomy. The play of his facial

muscles, and changes of hue, interested me, so I continued--"But I will

venture to say that you have never since paid such attention to any

sermon as you did to mine that Sunday morning when I had you and your

seven friends strapped to eight trees in a semicircle, and concluded my

remarks, you may remember, with a few strokes of 'practical

application.' I should like to hear the story of your escape from

prison."

"Oh, my lord," he groaned, and his teeth chattered and his knees

trembled, "I'm a reformed character--I am indeed. Perhaps if your

lordship would kindly please to walk this way," and he opened a side

door off the landing. "Knowing your lordship's generosity, and your

lordship's interest in the family, and my own unworthiness, your

lordship wouldn't be too hard upon a poor man whose repentance is

genuine, and I could tell your lordship something of the very highest

importance to her ladyship, and to Lady Ursula, and to your lordship,

and to the whole family."

I knew the man to be a clever scoundrel, and saw that he evidently had

some information which might prove of value. A mystery did exist--of

that I had had abundant evidence. Was I justified in refusing to find

the key?--besides, if this man really possessed some secret, could it be

in more dangerous hands? This last consideration decided me, and I

followed the returned convict to a little sanctum of his own, which

opened off the pantry, from which I emerged five minutes later a wiser

if not a better man.

"What a time you have been!" said Broadhem. "I suppose you have been

arguing the point with my mother?"

"No, I left that to Drippings here." I did not know his name, but my

spirits were high, and I gave him the first my imagination suggested.

"You have no idea what a treasure your mother has got in this man. I

assure you there is no knowing what you may not owe to the influence for

good of one devoted Christian servant of this kind--the proof of it is,

as you see, that Lady Broadhem is perfectly willing that you should do

what you like for the rest of the evening. Good-night, Drippings," and I

passed the bewildered James, who evidently thought that both I and the

terrified-looking butler had gone suddenly mad.

"Broadhem," said I, "I have hit upon an entirely new and original idea.

I am thinking of trying it myself, and I want you to try it too."

"Well," said Broadhem, "I am never surprised at anything you say or do;

what is it?"

"It has been suggested to me by what I have seen at your mother's this

evening--and you may depend upon it there is a great deal to be said in

its favour; it is an odd thing it has not occurred to anybody before,

but that leaves all the better opening for you and me."

"Go on," said Broadhem, whose curiosity was getting excited.

"Don't be in a hurry; it is possible you may not like the idea when you

hear it, and under no circumstances must you tell it to anybody."

"All right," said Broadhem, "but I hope it has nothing to do with

companies--I hate dabbling in companies. I believe one does more harm to

one's name by making it common than one gets good through the money one

pockets."

"Well, there is more truth than elegance of expression in that remark:

it needs not have to do with companies unless you like."

"Now, if it has anything to do with politics, I am your man."

"You would make a great _coup_ in politics with it; it is especially

adapted for politics, and has never been tried."

"You don't say so," said Broadhem, delighted; "don't go on making one

guess as if it was a game. Has it anything to do with the suffrage?"

"It has to do with everything," I said; "I don't think I can do it

myself; I made a lamentable failure just now by way of a start," and I

paused suddenly--"Who am I," I thought, "that I should venture to

preach? What act have I done in life which should give weight to my

words?" but the fervour was on me, and I could no more check the burning

thoughts than the trumpet can control the sound it emits.

"Well," he said impatiently.

"LIVE THE LIFE."

"I don't understand you," said Broadhem.

"If you did," I said, "do you suppose I should feel my whole nature

yearning as it is? What better proof could I desire that the life has

yet to be lived than that you don't understand me? Supposing, now, that

you and I actually put into practice what all these friends of your

mother profess, and, instead of judging people who go to plays, or play

croquet on Sunday, or dance, we tried to live the _inner_ life

ourselves. Supposing, in your case, that your own interest never entered

your head in any one thing you undertook; supposing you actually felt

that you had nothing in common with the people around you, and belonged

neither to the world of publicans and sinners, nor to the world of

scribes and Pharisees, but were working on a different plane, in which

self was altogether ignored--that you gave up attempting to steer your

own craft any longer, but put the helm into other hands, and could

complacently watch her drive straight on to the breakers, and make a

deliberate shipwreck of every ambition in life,--don't you think you

would create rather a sensation in the political world? Supposing you

could arrive at the point of being as indifferent to the approval as to

the censure of your fellow-men, of caring as little for the highest

honours which are in their power to bestow now, as for the fame which

posterity might award to you hereafter; supposing that wealth and power

appeared equally contemptible to you for their own sakes, and that you

had no desire connected with this earth except to be used while upon it

for divine ends, and that all the while that this motive was actuating

you, you were striving and working and toiling in the midst of this busy

world, doing exactly what every man round you was doing, but doing it

all from a different motive,--it would be curious to see where you would

land--how you would be abused and misunderstood, and what a perplexity

you would create in the minds of your friends, who would never know

whether you were a profound intriguer or a shallow fool. How much you

would have to suffer, but what a balance there would be to the credit

side! For instance, as you could never be disappointed, you would be the

only free man among slaves. There is not a man or woman of the present

day who is not in chains, either to the religious world or the other, or

to family or friends, and always to self. Now, if we could get rid of

the bonds of self first, we could snap the other fetters like

packthread. What a grand sensation it would be to expand one's chest and

take in a full, free, pure breath, and uplift the hands heavenward that

have been pinioned to our sides, and feel the feeble knees strong and

capable of enabling us to climb upwards! With the sense of perfect

liberty we should lose the sense of fear, no man could make us ashamed,

and the waves of public opinion would dash themselves in vain against

the rock upon which we should then be established. The nations of the

earth are beating the air for freedom, and inventing breech-loaders

wherewith to conquer it, and they know not that the battlefield is self,

and the weapons for the fight not of fleshly make. Have you ever been in

an asylum for idiots, Broadhem?" I asked, abruptly.

"No," he said, timidly.

"Then you are in one now. Look at them; there is the group to which you

belong playing at politics. Look at the imbecile smile of gratified

vanity with which they receive the applause that follows a successful

hit. That poor little boy has just knocked a political tobacco-pipe out

of Aunt Sally's mouth, and he imagines himself covered with a lasting

glory. There is another going to try a jump: he makes a tremendous

effort before he gets to the stick, but balks, and carries it off in his

hand with a grin of triumph. Look, there is a man with a crotchet; he

keeps on perpetually scratching his left ear and his right palm

alternately, and then touching the ground with the tips of his fingers.

He never varies the process. Look at the gluttons who would do nothing

but eat if they were allowed, like men who have just got into office,

and see how spiteful they are, and what faces they make at each other,

and how terribly afraid they are of their masters, and how they cringe

for their favour, and how naughty they are when their backs are turned.

Look, again, at these groups drawing, and carpentering, and gardening,

imagining that they are producing results that are permanently to

benefit mankind; but they are drawing with sticks, and carpentering with

sham tools, and planting stones. And see, there is a fire-balloon going

up; how delighted they all are, and how they clap their hands as the

gaudy piece of tissue-paper inflated with foul gas sails over their

heads. Is there one of the noisy crowd that knows what its end will be

or that thinks of to-morrow? Is there one of them, I wonder, that

suspects he is an idiot? If you find out, Broadhem, that you are not one

of them, they will call you an idiot--be prepared for that. The life of

a sound and sane man in such company cannot be pleasant. Every act of it

must be an enigma to those around him. If he is afraid of them, they

will turn and rend him; if he is fearless, they will hate him, because

'he testifies of the evil.' His life will be a martyrdom, but his spirit

will be free, his senses new-born; and think you he would exchange the

trials and labours which his sanity must entail upon him for the

drivelling pleasures which he has lost? Tell me, Broadhem, what you

think of my idea?"

"It is not altogether new to me, though I did not exactly understand

what you meant at first," said Broadhem, who spoke with more feeling

than I gave him credit for possessing. "I have never heard it put in

such strong language before, but I have seen Ursula practise it, and I

was wondering all the time you were talking whether you did."

"I never have yet," I said. "I began by telling you that the idea only

occurred to me lately in its new form. I had often thought of it as a

speculation. I began by assuming that purely disinterested honesty might

pay, because an original idea well applied generally succeeds; but when

I came to work the thing out, I found that there was a practical

difficulty in the way, and that you could not be unselfish from a

selfish motive a bit more than you could look like a sane man while you

were really still an idiot. And so the fact is, I have talked the notion

out to you as it has been suggested to me, though Drippings nearly drove

it out of my head. I think the reason I felt impelled to do so was, that

had it not been for your sister I should never have thought upon such

subjects as I do now. I know her love for you, and the value of her

influence over you. Even now she is devoting herself to guarding your

interests in the most important step of a man's life, and I seem

instinctively to feel how I can best please her. Don't you think she

agrees in what I have said to-night, and would approve of the

conversation we have had?"

"Yes," said Broadhem. "Do you know you are quite a different sort of

fellow from what I imagined. I always thought that you did not believe

in anything."

"That was because I lived exactly like my neighbours, without adding to

my daily life the sin of professing belief in a religion to which it was

diametrically opposed. Most of the sceptics of the present day are

driven to their opinions by their consciences, which revolt against the

current hypocrisy and glaring inconsistencies that characterise the

profession of the popular theology. As a class I have found them

honester, and in every way better men than modern Christians."

"Do you know why?"

"No," said Broadhem.

"Because modern Christians don't really believe much more than

sceptics--a man's life is the result of his internal, not his external

belief. There can be no life separate from internal belief, and the

lives of men are imperfect because their belief is external. The right

thing believed the right way must inevitably produce the perfect life.

Either, then, the civilised world believes the wrong thing, or it

believes the right thing the wrong way. In other words, faith and

charity are inseparable, and when one is perfect the other is too. That

is what I mean by 'living the life.'"

"According to that, you would make out that nobody rightly believes the

Christian religion who is not perfect; that, you know, is ridiculous,"

said Broadhem.

"That is, nevertheless, exactly what I do mean. To know the doctrine, it

is necessary to do the will. Christians of the present day adopt certain

theological dogmas intellectually and call them their religious belief.

This has a superficial and varying influence upon their lives, for it

consists merely of opinions which are liable to change. The only kind of

faith which is inseparable from life is a divine conviction of truth

imparted to the intellect through the heart, and which becomes as

absolute to the internal conscience as one's existence, and as

impossible of proof. It may be added to, but what has once been thus

accepted can never be changed. Such a faith cannot be selfish, for it

has been derived from the affections, hence the life must be charitable.

But the modern Christian belief, received by an effort of pure reason

directly through the intellect, is not a divine intuition, which, if

embodied, would result in a perfect life and a united Church, but a

theological problem which professors of religion, unlike professors of

mathematics, are at liberty to solve for their own benefit, according to

their own taste, and to quarrel about incessantly, thereby giving

occasion to the thoughtless to scoff, and to the thoughtful to reject

all revelation as 'foolishness'--since it is incapable of demonstration

by the Baconian method,--the only one known to these 'wise and prudent'

philosophers, but one by which, fortunately for them, 'babes' are not

expected to prove their relationship before believing in their mothers."

"Then," said Broadhem, "you actually mean to say that the whole of

Christendom is wanting in this faith?"

"I fear that almost universally they mistake a bare belief for faith.

Their theology thus becomes an _act_ of memory instead of a rule of

life, and Christianity is reduced to a superstition. The only way of

distinguishing superstition from true religion is by an examination of

results. But where are the fruits of modern Christianity? If it be

absolutely true, and all-sufficient for purposes of regeneration, how am

I to account for the singular fact that there is as much wickedness in

London in the year 1865 A.D., as there was in Jerusalem in the year 1

B.C.? If the object of the last revelation was to take the place of the

one before it, and to reform the world, why are the best modern

Christians of my acquaintance no holier than the best modern Jews whom I

have the honour to know?"

"But the object of the last revelation was not to reform the world, but

to save it," he replied.

"Thanks, Broadhem, for having put in rather too epigrammatic a form,

perhaps, to please those who believe it, the most diabolical sophism

that was ever invented to beguile a Church--the doctrine that men can be

saved by opinion without practice: that a man's practice may be bad, and

yet because his faith is good his salvation is sure--that he can, by

such a miserable philosophy as would disgrace the justice of the earth,

escape the just sentence to be passed upon all his deeds. The results of

so fatal a dogma must be a Church that tends to atheism, and that loves

corruption. There is in every heart a something that speaks against

this, and speaks with a burning language that sweeps the invisible

chords of the inmost consciousness, and awakens a torrent of indignant

denial of the shallow sophistry that a man can be saved if his thoughts

and life are bad. If he cherish self-love, and the love of ruling

others, though he intrench the intellect in the midst of all creeds, and

span the reason with all faiths, making a sacred public profession

before all men, he but adds to the heinousness of his crime, and makes

more terrible the fast-coming and final judgment."

Broadhem stopped suddenly in the street as I finished in a somewhat

excited tone, and gasped rather than spoke, "Frank, you literally

astound me. I could never have believed it possible you would have come

out in that line. Are those your own ideas or another's?"

"Another's," I replied, coolly. "I believe they are rather unsound, but

I commend them to your notice, because, if they are not correct,

Christianity will soon cease to exist, even in name; but if they are,

then it contains within it a regenerating power hitherto undeveloped,

whereby the world may be absolutely reformed. I will venture to assert

that Christian nations will make no moral progress so long as they

continue to cherish the pagan superstition that religion consists in

trying to save themselves by virtue of a creed, instead of in trying to

save others by the virtues of a life."

"But that's works," said Broadhem.

"Yes," I repeated, "that's works, but of a kind only possible when

accompanied by intuitive living faith, which I have just endeavoured to

describe. There is a promise that 'greater works than these shall they

do' who 'believe.' Why, I want to know, have these 'works,' greater than

any that were then accomplished, and which would reform the world, never

been attempted? Because people don't believe in the tremendous power of

disinterestedness, and they can't face the severe training which the

perfection of self-sacrifice involves. So one set of 'worldly-holies'

regard all personal discipline as a tempting snare to be avoided, and

entertain a great horror of what they conceitedly term 'their own

merits.' This very superfluous sentiment, combined with a selfish belief

in certain doctrinals (of which they usually do make a merit), is

enough, they imagine--the 'works' will follow; and so they do, and take

the form we have just seen in your mother's drawing-room. Another set

delight in a mild aesthetic sort of training, to be performed in a

particular costume, according to the obsolete ceremonial rules of a

Church 'which is divided against itself,' and their works take the

fatuous form of ecclesiastical high art. Others, again, go to a still

further extreme, and consider discipline not the means but the end.

Hence they go through their drill in seclusion, exclusively for their

own benefit, and their works take the form of scourgings and horse-hair

shirts, and other mortifications of the flesh, which do no good to

themselves nor to anybody else. And then, in strong contrast, are those

who train enough in all conscience with 'gloves,' single-stick, sculls,

and all suchlike appliances, and whose works take the form of tubbing,

volunteering, and a general jovial philanthropy. I am not sure that they

are not the most hopeful set after all; they believe in severe muscular

training as necessary to produce great physical results. Get them to

accept, the possibility of the world's regeneration by a

divinely-directed effort of heroic spiritual discipline on the part of

its inhabitants, and you might convert them from 'physical' into 'moral

force' Christians. They understand the efficacy of 'a long pull, and a

strong pull, and a pull all together;' and they might be shown that the

real place for a 'biceps' is the will, not the arms; and instead of a

body 'as hard as nails,' the chief aim of one's life should be to bring

one's spirit to that condition--'hard,' be it understood, in the sense

of being impervious to the influences which weaken and demoralise

it--hard in its resistance to the tyranny of society, to the claims of

family or friends, and to the force of 'natural' ties, where any of

these things interfere with the 'spiritual' training. It is only by thus

remaining in the world, and yet refusing to concede a jot to it upon any

pretence, however plausible, that it is possible to acquire the internal

isolation and strength of will necessary to the achievement of 'these

greater works.' Depend upon it, the task of performing them is not

hopeless because it seems stupendous. There are spiritual forces now

latent in humanity powerful enough to restore a fallen universe; but

they want to be called into action by fire. They are in a cold fluid

state, and must be turned into stone. Sublime moment! when, conscious of

the Titanic agency within them, and burning with desire to give it

expression, men first unite to embody, and then with irresistible

potency to impart to others that 'Life' which is 'the Light of men.'"

As I was thus speaking, we turned into Piccadilly, and an arm was passed

through mine.

"Why is it," asked Broadhem, "that men are not yet at all conscious of

possessing this spiritual agency?"

"Why is it, ask you?"--and the clear solemn voice of my new companion

startled Broadhem, who had not seen him join me, so that I felt his arm

tremble upon mine. "Ask rather why sects are fierce and intolerant; why

worship is formal and irreverent; why zealots run to fierce frenzies and

react to atheistic chills; why piety is constrained and lifeless, like

antique pictures painted by the old Byzantines upon a golden ground; why

Puseyism tries to whip piety to life with scourges, and starve out sin

with fasts; why the altar is made a stage where Ritualists delight a

gaping crowd, and the pulpit a place where the sleek official drones

away the sleepy hour; why religious books are the dullest; why the

clergyman is looked upon by the millions as a barrel-organ, whom the

sect turns like the wandering Savoyard, unable to evolve a free-born

note. There is but one answer----" and he stopped abruptly.

"What is it?" I said, timidly, for I was overwhelmed by the torrent of

his eloquence.

"We have lost our God! That is why men are unconscious of His force

within them. It is a terrible thing for a nation to lose its God.

History shows that all nations wherein the religious inspiration has

gone down beneath formalism, infidelity, a warlike spirit, an enslaving

spirit, or a trading spirit, have burst like so many gilded bubbles,

most enlarged and gorgeous at the moment of their close. Think of the

old Scripture, 'The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the

nations that forget God.'"

"Who is that?" whispered Broadhem. "I never saw him before."

"I want to be alone with him," I replied. "Good night, Broadhem. You had

better go back now, or you will find your friends gone. Think over what

I have said. Once realise the '_mystery_ of godliness,' and the

martyrdom which it must entail will lose its terrors."

"Let him sacrifice us if He will," said he who had before spoken. "The

true man is but a cannon-shot, rejoicing most of all when the Divine

Artillerist shall send him irresistible and flaming against some foeman

of the race risen from Pandemonium. Man--the true man--is like the

Parthian's arrow, kindling into fiery flames as it leaves the bow.

Man--the true man--is the Spirit-sword, but the sword-arm is moved by

the heart of the Almighty."

Ah Piccadilly! hallowed recollections may attach to those stones worn by

the feet of the busy idiots in this vast asylum, for one sane man has

trodden them, and I listened to the words of wisdom as they dropped from

the lips of one so obscure that his name is still unknown in the land,

but I doubted not who at that moment was the greatest man in Piccadilly.

[Illustration]

CONCLUSION.

MORAL.

PICCADILLY, _July 15_.

It will be seen by the date at which I am writing this, that I have been

compelled to increase the pace I have been keeping up during the season.

The fact is, my episode, like those of my neighbours, seems likely to be

prematurely concluded by the course of political events, which will no

doubt act prejudicially this year upon the happiness of many interesting

members of society. Towards the close of the London season it is only

natural that everything should culminate; but generally the actors in

the scenes of real life so calculate that the curtain falls just at the

right moment; or rather, that they shall be doing just the right thing

when the curtain falls. The artists insensibly group themselves for the

_grand tableau_. All over the stage episodes are occurring, any one of

which taken separately would make a good sensation finale. There are

wily mothers and desperate daughters throwing with unerring aim their

nets over youths who have become reckless or imbecile. And there are

unprincipled poachers setting snares for the pretty game they hope to

destroy. Look at the poor victims, both male and female, trying to get

disentangled. What a rush, and shuffle, and conflict of feelings and

affections it is! The hearts that for the first time feel they have been

touched as the moment of separation draws near; the "histories" which in

all future time will form the most marked page in his or her life, and

which have begun and ended in the season; the intimacies that have been

formed, and which are to last for ever; those that have been broken; the

fatal friendships which have been cemented this year, and the disastrous

results of which, suspected on neither side, we shall read of in the

newspapers years to come. What a curious picture would be the mind of

London society if we could photograph it in February, and how strangely

different would it be from a photograph of the same subject taken in

July, more especially when, as now, the elections throw everything into

confusion; and little Haultort gets so bewildered, that he encloses, by

mistake, his address to his constituents to Wild Harrie, instead of his

proposal to her, which he has forwarded to his local attorney for

publication in the Liberal organ of that borough which is honoured by

possessing him as a representative!

In these days when good taste requires that our affections should be as

shallow as our convictions, we are puzzled, at a crisis like this, to

know which we love most, our seats or our mistresses. There is a general

disposition on the part of the lavender-gloved tribe to resent the extra

wear and tear of mind suddenly imposed upon them this hot weather. Why

should they unexpectedly be called away from the corners devoted to

_tete-a-tetes_, to stand on hotel balconies, and stammer, in

unintelligible language, their views upon Reform to crowds of free and

independent electors? "For goodness' sake," says Larkington to Lady

Veriphast, "give me some ideas; I've got to go and meet these wretched

constituents of mine, and I had promised myself a much more agreeable

occupation with you at Richmond. Couldn't you get Veriphast to go down?

I should be delighted to retire in his favour; and with his abilities it

is ridiculous his not being in Parliament."

"How absurdly you talk about my persuading Veriphast to do anything? the

only person, as you know, who has any influence over him is Mrs

Loveton," responds her ladyship, with a sigh--arising from dyspepsia.

"I have hit it;" and for a moment Larkington looks animated.

"Squabbleton is close to the coast, and we will make a party, and I will

take you all round in my yacht, the Lovetons and you and Veriphast;

we'll go and do the electioneering business together, and keep the yacht

as a sort of _pied a terre_, or rather _pied a mer_;" and Larkington

chuckled, partly at his joke, and partly at this brilliant solution of

his dilemma.

And so, while all the world is trying to reconcile their pleasure with

what they are pleased to term their duty, being always the duty they owe

to themselves, my thoughts are diverted into a very different channel. I

am beginning daily to feel, while in the world, that I am less of it.

Already I have cut myself off from the one great source of interest

which Parliament afforded me, and I have not succeeded in my love as a

compensation--that is why Larkington's arrangement to secure both seemed

a sort of mockery of my misery. For it was impossible to resist the

occasional fits of depression which reduced my mind to the condition of

white paper, and the world to that of a doll stuffed with sawdust. I was

suffering in this manner the day following the evening entertainment at

Lady Broadhem's, which I have already described. The interview which

impended inspired me with vague terrors. The night before I had looked

forward to it with positive enjoyment. There is no greater bore than to

get up morally and physically unhinged, upon the very day that you

expect an unusual strain upon your faculties. The days it does not

matter, you feel up to anything; but nature too often perversely deserts

you at the most critical moment.

Now, upon the morning in question it was necessary as a preliminary

measure for me to go into the City and acquire some information

essential to the success of my interview with Lady Broadhem, but before

starting I was anxious to gain a few particulars from Grandon, the

knowledge of which would materially aid me in disentangling the

complicated skein of our joint affairs. I therefore looked in upon him

for a moment _en passant_.

"I went to Lady Broadhem's last night, Grandon," I said, "and I have

reasons for wishing to know whether you have had any communication with

the family lately. I think the time is coming when I shall be able to

explain much of my conduct which I can well understand has perplexed and

distressed you."

"It would be a relief to me to feel that there was no more mystery

between us," he replied. "You have certainly at last most effectually

contradicted the report you were the means of originating, but the

reparation was tardy, and should never have been rendered necessary.

However, there is no use in recurring to the past; but I am entitled to

ask what your object is in making your present inquiries?"

"I am to see Lady Broadhem this afternoon," I said, "and I wish to be

prepared on all points. I heard something last night which may influence

your future far more seriously than mine; and it is in fact in your

interests, and not in my own, that I wish to be well informed."

"What do you want to know?"

"I want to know whether you have ever actually proposed to Lady Ursula,

and, if so, what was the result?"

"Frank," said Grandon, "after what has passed you are pushing my

confidence in you, and my friendship for you, to their utmost limits, in

expecting me to answer you in this matter. Still I cannot believe your

motives to be unworthy, though they may be unintentionally perverted;

nor do I think that it is in your power to affect the position of

affairs either for good or harm. The fact is, then, that Lady Ursula

does know precisely the state of my feelings towards her, and I feel

that, though there may be insuperable obstacles to our union at present,

she would never consent to yield to any pressure exercised by her mother

in favour of another."

"In other words, the situation is unchanged, for I think I knew as much

as that before. Have you never spoken to Lady Broadhem directly on the

subject?"

"No," said Grandon--"never."

"I think," said I, "the time is coming when you will be able to do so

with advantage. I cannot tell you more now, but this afternoon I shall

hope to retrieve myself in your estimation by being the bearer of some

good news. By the way, what are you going to do about your

election?--they say your prospects are getting cloudy."

"Say rather utterly obscured," he replied. "You know the borough I sit

for is in Lord Scilly's pocket, and he says I have not sufficiently

stuck to my party. They have never forgiven me for understanding the

Schleswig-Holstein question; and Scilly has extracted a promise from his

new nominee that he is never to inform himself upon any question of

foreign politics. The Government is so weak in this department that they

are more afraid of their own _enfants terribles_ than they are of the

Opposition, which is not saying much for the latter."

"Who is Scilly's new nominee?" I asked.

"No less a person than our old friend Chundango," he replied. "It seems

Lady Broadhem put pressure upon his lordship in his favour, and he at

last consented, though I suspect it was with a bad grace."

"Well, I don't think the Government need be afraid of Chundango on

foreign policy, though he probably knows as much as the others."

It required no little effort to reach Bodwinkle's office at 10 A.M. I

found that great millionaire in a peculiarly amiable frame of mind.

Though two or three of his neighbours had been smashing around him, his

superior foresight had enabled him to escape the calamities which had

overtaken them; and he was sitting chuckling in that rather dingy alley,

from the recesses of which he had dug his fortune, when I entered.

"Ah, Lord Frank," he said, affably; "come to give me some of your

valuable advice and assistance in my election affairs, I feel sure.

Don't forget your promise about Stepton. I have already given the

necessary instructions about that matter of Lady Broadhem's; there is

nothing going to be done about it for the present."

"It is just with reference to Lady Broadhem's affairs that I have come

to consult you," I said. "You have a pretty extensive Indian connection,

I think?"

"Rather," said Bodwinkle, in a tone which meant to imply gigantic.

"Now I have reason to believe that her ladyship is interested in some

Bombay houses, and I shall be able to throw some light upon her affairs

which may be of use to us both, if you will give me the benefit of a

little of that exclusive information with reference to cotton and those

who are embarked in its trade which I know you possess."

Bodwinkle was loath at first to let me into those mysteries which he

speedily revealed to me on my explaining more fully my reasons for

requiring to know them, and I jumped into a hansom and drove off to

Grosvenor Square, planning a little plot which I completed ere I

arrived, and the construction of which had acted as beneficially upon my

nerves as one of Lady Broadhem's own "pick-me-ups." Drippings let me in,

and his countenance wore an expression of anxious consciousness. As he

led the way up-stairs he whispered, "I trust, my lord, that under the

circumstances your lordship will not betray me--my own livelihood, not

to say that of my wife and little ones, depends upon my keeping this

place; and I would not have mentioned what had come to my knowledge with

respect to her ladyship if it had not been that, knowing the interest

your lordship takes in the family, and more especially when I come to

consider Lady Ursula----"

"Hold your tongue," I interrupted, angrily. "If you wish me to reduce

you and your family to beggary, dare to open your lips to me again

unless you're spoken to." I felt savage with him for ruffling my temper

at the moment when I desired to have my faculties completely under

control; and as my readers will have perceived, though my intentions are

always excellent, my course is occasionally, under any unusual strain,

erratic.

I never saw Lady Broadhem looking better. One or two wrinkles were

positively missing altogether, and an expression of cheerful benevolence

seemed to play about the corners of her mouth. She greeted me with an

_empressement_ totally at variance with the terms on which we had parted

upon the previous evening. I must say that, when Lady Broadhem chooses,

there is nobody of my acquaintance whose manner is more attractive, and

whose conversation is more agreeable. She had been a _belle_ in her day,

and had achieved some renown among the "wholly-worldlies" when she first

married the late lord. Her "history," connected chiefly with another

lord of that period, is not yet altogether forgotten. The end of it was,

that the world looked coldly upon her ladyship for a few seasons, and

she scrambled with some difficulty into the society of the

"worldly-holies," among whom she has ever since remained. There are

occasions when a certain amount of coquetry of manner betrays the

existence of some of those "devil's leavings" which she is still engaged

in sacrificing. Had it not been for the information I had derived from

Drippings, her cordial reception and unembarrassed manner would have

puzzled me. As it was, I felt assured by the indications they furnished,

that the butler had told me the truth.

"My dear Lady Broadhem," I said, with enthusiasm, "how well you are

looking! I am sure you must have some charming news to tell me. Is some

near and wealthy relation dead, or what?"

"For shame, Frank! what a satirical creature you are! Do you know I only

discovered lately that irony was your strong point? I am positively

beginning to be afraid of you."

"Come now," I said, "own frankly, what you have to tell me to-day makes

you feel more afraid of me than you ever did before."

Lady Broadhem blushed--yes, actually blushed. It was not the flush of

anger which I had often seen dye her cheeks, or of shame, which I never

did; but it was a blush of maiden consciousness, if I may so express it,

though it is occasionally to be observed in widows. It mounted slowly

and suffused her whole neck and face, even unto the roots of her hair;

it was a blush of that kind which I have seen technically described by a

German philosopher as a "rhythm of exquisite sweetness."

The effect of this hardened old lady indulging in a rhythm of this

description struck me as so ludicrous that I was compelled to resort to

my pocket-handkerchief and pretend to sneeze behind it. At the same

moment Lady Broadhem resorted to hers, and applied it with equal

sincerity to her eyes. "Dear Frank," she said, and sobbed. "Dear Lady

Broadhem," I responded, and nearly choked with suppressed laughter, for

I knew what was coming.

"All my money difficulties are at an end at last, and if I am affected,

it is that I feel I am not worthy of the happiness that is in store for

me," and she lifted up her eyes, in which real tears were actually

glistening, and said, "What have I done to deserve it?"

"Well, really," I replied, "if you ask me that question honestly, I must

wait till I know what 'it' is; perhaps you would have been better

without--'it.'"

"I assure you, Frank, one of the uppermost feelings in my mind is that

of relief. I fully appreciate the warm-hearted generosity which has

prompted you to take so much interest in my affairs; but when it was all

over between you and Ursula, my conscience would not allow me to let you

make pecuniary sacrifices on so large a scale for my sake. When Broadhem

told me that you had determined to persevere in your munificence,

notwithstanding Ursula's most inexplicable conduct, I made up my mind at

once to adopt a course which, I am happy to say, not merely my sense of

propriety but my feelings told me was the right one. I must therefore

relieve you from all further anxiety about my business matters. You

have, I think, still got some papers of mine, which you may return to

me; and I will see that my solicitor not only releases you from any

engagements which you may have entered into for me, but will repay those

sums which you have so kindly advanced on my account already."

There was a tone of triumph pervading this speech which clearly meant,

"Now we are quits. I don't forget the time when you drank my

'pick-me-up' first, and biologised me afterwards. And this is my

revenge."

I must say I looked at Lady Broadhem with a certain feeling of

admiration. She was a woman made up of "forces." Last night passionate

and intemperate under the influence of the society she had called round

her: to-day calm and wily, using her advantages of situation with a

judgment and a moderation worthy of a great strategist. She is only

arrogant and insolent in the hour of disaster; but she can conquer

magnanimously. I assumed an air of the deepest regret and

disappointment. "Of course, Lady Broadhem, any change in your

circumstances which makes you independent, even of your friends, must be

agreeable to you; but I cannot say how deeply disappointed I feel that

my labour of love is over, and that I shall no longer have the pleasure

of spending my resources in a cause so precious to me." The last words

almost stuck in my throat; but I wanted to overdo it, to see the effect.

"My dear Frank," she said, laughing, and her eyes would have twinkled

had they not become too watery from age, "I shall never make you out; I

am so stupid at reading character, and I suppose so dull altogether,

that sometimes I am not sure when you're joking and when you are in

earnest. Now I want you seriously to answer me truly one question, not

as people of the world, you know, making pledges to each other, but as

old friends, as we are, who may dispense with mystery." She held out her

hand with an air of charming candour. "Tell me," she said, as she

pressed mine,--"tell me honestly, what could possibly have been your

motive in being prepared to go on sacrificing your fortune for me when

you had no chance of Ursula?"

"Tell me honestly, Lady Broadhem," I said, and pressed her hand in

return, "how you are going to render yourself independent of my

assistance hence-forward, and I will tell you the motives which have

actuated me in proffering it."

"It is only just settled, and I have not even told it yet either to

Broadhem or my daughters. I am quite prepared for the sensation it will

make when it is known, and the ill-natured things people will say of me;

but my mind is made up, and we are told to expect persecution. I am

going to be married to Mr Chundango!"

Lady Broadhem evidently expected to stun me with this announcement, but

as I had already been prepared for it by Drippings on the occasion of

our first private interview, which the reader will remember, I received

it with perfect equanimity.

"I had no conception," her ladyship went on, "of the sterling worth and

noble character of that man until I had an opportunity of observing it

closely. The munificence of his liberality, and the good uses to which

he applies his enormous wealth, the cultivation of his mind, the

excellence of his principles, and the perfect harmony of feeling upon

religious subjects which exists between us, all convince me that I shall

best consult my own happiness and the interests of my dear children by

uniting my fate to his. I suppose you know Lord Scilly is going to put

him into Parliament for the Scilly boroughs instead of Lord Grandon?"

"No one could congratulate you more sincerely than I do, Lady Broadhem,"

I said. "I can conceive no greater happiness than an alliance in which

that perfect harmony of thought and feeling you describe reigns

paramount; and now it is my turn to tell you why I have acted the part

which seems so incomprehensible to you. Grandon is, as you know, my

dearest friend, but he is poor. Ursula cares for him more, if possible,

than I do. And I need not tell you that my own attachment to your

daughter is the strongest sentiment of my nature. Now, I determined to

prove the depth of my affection for these two people by making them both

happy, and when all my arrangements were completed I intended to make a

final stipulation with you, that you should give your consent to their

marriage, and that I should play the part of a bountiful prince in the

Arabian Nights, and that we should all live happy ever after."

"A very pretty little plot indeed," said Lady Broadhem, with a sneer.

"You are too good and disinterested for this planet, Frank. So you

thought you could coerce me into giving my consent to a marriage I never

have approved, and never shall?"

"Don't be too sure of that," I said, and I allowed the faintest tinge of

insolence to appear in my manner, for the sentiments and the sneer that

accompanied it both irritated me, and I felt that we were morally

drawing our revolvers, and looking at the caps.

"Why not? What do you mean?" she said, sharply. "Who do you suppose is

to dictate to me upon such a subject? Ursula will be very well off, and

I shall take care that she marries suitably."

"I don't know where she is to get her money from," I said, calmly.

"You need give yourself no anxiety about her for the future, I assure

you. Mr Chundango has been most liberal in his arrangements about both

my girls."

"But, unfortunately, it is not in Mr Chundango's power to make any such

arrangements," I retorted. "I am sure nothing will alter your feelings

towards a man you really love, and that your own personal conduct will

not be influenced by the fact that Mr Chundango is a beggar. You could

go back to India with him, you know, and make a home for him in a

bungalow in the Bombay Ghauts."

Lady Broadhem's face had become rigid and stony; so had my whole nature.

I did not feel a particle of compassion or of triumph. I was cold, hard,

and judicial. Her hour was come, and I had to pass the sentence. "Yes,"

I said, "there is no doubt about it. I got it from Bodwinkle this

moment. The Bombay mail arrived last night, and you know the way

everything has been crashing there through speculations in Back Bay

shares, cotton, &c. Well, the great Parsee house of Burstupjee Cockabhoy

has come down with a grand crash, and all our friend Chundango's jewels

in the back verandah, added to everything else he possesses in the

world, will fail to meet his liabilities. Terrible thing, isn't it? but

we must bear up, you know."

But Lady Broadhem had done bearing up some time ago, and had sunk gently

back on the couch, in a dead faint. As there was not the slightest sham

about it, I rang the bell for Jenkins, and felt under the pillow for the

"pick-me-up," which I failed to make her swallow; so I slapped the soles

of her feet with her shoes, till her maid arrived, followed by

Drippings, who, I suspect, had spent some portion of his time in the

neighbourhood of the keyhole.

"I will go and look for Lady Ursula," I said; "where shall I find her?"

"In her own 'boudwore,'" said Jenkins--"first door on the right, at the

top of the stairs," and I left Lady Broadhem being ministered to with

sal-volatile, and went in search of her daughter.

Lady Ursula was writing, and as she looked up I saw the traces of tears

upon her cheeks, though she smiled as she frankly gave me her hand. "I

half expected you, Lord Frank, as I knew you were to call on mamma

to-day, and I thought you would not leave without seeing me; but I

expected to have been sent for. Don't you know that this is very sacred

ground, and that the privilege of treading upon it is accorded to very

few?"

"I have that to tell you," I said, gravely, "which I can only talk of

privately. I have left Lady Broadhem down-stairs, and it is the result

of my interview with her that I want to communicate to you. Do you know

that she contemplated taking a very serious step?"

I did not know how to approach the subject, and felt embarrassed now

that I found myself obliged to explain to a daughter that her mother was

going to marry the man that daughter had rejected, as an act of revenge.

"No," said Lady Ursula. "I have suspected by her preoccupied manner for

many days past that mamma had decided upon something, but I have shrunk

from speaking to her of her own plans. Indeed she seemed to have avoided

me in a way which she never did before."

"Before telling you what she intended doing, I must premise that she has

quite abandoned the idea; therefore don't let yourself be distressed by

what might have been, but won't be now."

I risked this assertion as, though Lady Broadhem had not told me that

she had abandoned the idea, and was at that moment in a dead faint, I

felt certain that her first impulse on "coming to" would be to abandon

it. "Well," said Lady Ursula, with her lip trembling and her eye cast

down, "if you think it right that you should tell me, do so; remember

she is my mother."

"It was nothing so very dreadful after all," I said, and tried to

reassure her by a careless manner--for I saw how much she dreaded the

unknown.

"The fact is, Lady Broadhem has been driven to despair by the family

embarrassments, and we must make allowances for her under the

circumstances. Then perhaps she was under the influence of pique. At all

events, she has made up her mind to accept a proposal which Mr Chundango

had the audacity to make."

Lady Ursula raised her eyes in a bewildered way to mine. It was evident

that she had failed even now to comprehend me. What business, I thought,

had I to come up here after all? It is a piece of impertinence in me;

and I trembled at my rashness. What will she think? I shall shock her,

and ruin myself in her estimation irretrievably; and I wished myself

back again, slapping the soles of Lady Broadhem's feet; but Lady

Broadhem was already making use of those very soles, and was marching

up-stairs at that identical moment; for before I could find words to

explain my meaning more fully to Lady Ursula, and while I was yet

doubting whether I should not back out of the whole subject, in stalked

her ladyship, very white, with lips compressed, and an expression on her

face which so terrified Ursula that she forgot my speech in the

amazement and alarm which her mother's aspect caused her. "What are you

doing in my daughter's private sitting-room, Lord Frank?" said Lady

Broadhem, between her teeth.

"I came to tell her of your sudden illness, and explain the cause of

it," I replied, calmly.

"And have you done so?" and I saw how much depended on my answer by the

nervous way in which Lady Broadhem clenched her hand to control her

emotion: she has given me a good many _mauvais quarts d'heures_, I

thought--I will give her one now.

"I was just telling Lady Ursula," I said, "that Mr Chundango had

positively had the impudence to propose to you"--Lady Broadhem gave a

sort of suppressed scream--"when you came in."

"Then you did not tell her what he proposed?" she said.

"No, I leave that to you," I said, maliciously.

"My dear Ursula, I would not tell you, because I know you do not approve

of speculations, and I feel myself that they are questionable, if not

actually sinful. My dear child, I did it for the best; Chundango wanted

me to join him in one of his Indian speculations, and proposed to me

to"--Lady Broadhem paused, coloured, looked me full in the face, and

then said slowly--"to unite my resources to his. Fortunately, Lord Frank

has just discovered in time that he is a bankrupt, so of course all

partnership arrangements between us are at an end, and I am most

thankful for the lesson. You know I promised you once before that I

would give up trying to retrieve my own fortunes by commercial

speculation, even of the most legitimate description; and now, my dear

Frank, and you, my sweet child, forgive me for having even thought of

yielding to this temptation. You must have seen how much it has weighed

upon me, Ursula dear, for some time past; but let us be thankful that I

have been saved from it," and the handkerchief was again called into

requisition.

Well done, Lady Broadhem! that was a triumph of white-lying, and the

best piece of acting you have done in my presence; it so touched Lady

Ursula that she threw herself on her mother's neck.

"Never mind, mamma; I know that whatever you do is out of love for us;

but indeed we don't want to be rich. Broadhem has no expensive tastes,

and I would only be too glad to get away from London. Let us let the

house, and take a little cottage somewhere in the country,--we shall be

so much happier;" and Lady Ursula nestled herself on her mother's cheek,

little dreaming that she had nearly had Chundango for a father-in-law,

and evidently much relieved at finding that this dreadful intelligence,

for which I was preparing her, was not some horrid crime, but only

another money affair. As I looked at the mother and daughter, clasped in

each other's arms, and pictured to myself the thoughts that were hidden

in those hearts now palpitating against each other, I felt that it would

almost be a righteous act to tear them asunder for ever.

Never mind, you have given me a hold over you that I shall turn to

account; that lie was dexterously worded, and evidenced infinite

presence of mind; but you will have first to throw over Chundango, and

then to shut his mouth, and then you will have to shut mine, and finally

to shut Drippings his mouth. Oh, my dear Lady Broadhem, what a very

slimy and disagreeable course you have marked out for yourself!

"Mr Chundango is in the drawing-room, my lady," said Drippings,

appearing at the door at this critical juncture; and he took a survey of

the group as one who should say within himself, "Here is some new start

which I am not yet up to, but which I soon shall be," and he waited at

the door to observe the effect of his intelligence.

"I shall be down immediately," said Lady Broadhem, coldly; and Drippings

vanished. "Perhaps, under the circumstances, you had better leave Mr

Chundango to my tender mercies," I said, significantly. "There can be no

reason why you should _ever_ see him again." I emphasised the word

"ever" purposely, and assumed a tone of authority under which Lady

Broadhem winced. Our eyes met for a moment, and then I looked at her

nose, and I am sure she read my thought, which was "I must keep it on

the grindstone," for she sighed and acquiesced.

"How do, my dear Mr Chundango?" said I, gaily, to the Oriental, who

seemed rather taken aback when he saw me enter the drawing-room instead

of Lady Broadhem, and whose lips got paler than was altogether

consistent with their usual colour. "I must congratulate you on the

prospect of becoming a legislator. I hear Lord Scilly is going to put

you in for his boroughs."

"Yes," said Chundango, affectedly. "His lordship has been good enough to

press them upon me, but I have determined not to go in as any man's

nominee. The fact is, I wanted to ask Lady Broadhem's advice upon that

very matter, and have come here expressly to do so."

"She is not very well, and has deputed me to consult with you instead.

Come," I said, confidentially. "What is it all about? I shall be too

glad to assist you."

The puzzled expression of Chundango's face at this moment was a study:

"Has Lady Broadhem told him everything or not?--How much does he

know?--What line shall I take?" and he stroked his chin doubtfully.

"Come, out with it," I said, sharply; "I haven't time to stand here all

day waiting till you decide how much you will tell me and how much you

won't." Now this is the kind of speech which disturbs a native more than

any other, but which would be inexcusable in polite society. I had lived

too much in the East to be trammelled with the conventionalities of

Europe, and my friend felt as much, for he cringed at once after the

manner of his race.

"I have no intention of deceiving you," he said. "I don't know whether

Lady Broadhem has told you that we are to be united in matrimony?"

"Yes," I said, "she has."

"Well, I want to make arrangements by which the ceremony may be

accomplished without delay, for I feel the suspense is trying. Might I

ask you to find out the earliest moment which would suit her

convenience? I need not say that I hope you will be present."

"I suppose you would prefer it, if possible, before the arrival of the

next mail from Bombay?" I said.

Chundango, who is by no means deficient in intelligence, saw at a glance

that it was useless to attempt to deceive me. "I see that you know," he

said, meekly, "the terrible misfortune by which I have been overtaken,

through no fault of my own. I am quite sure it will not affect Lady

Broadhem's resolution."

"I am quite sure it will," I said; "and the fact is, as she did not want

a scene, she sent me down to give you to understand that everything is

at an end between you. You look surprised," I went on, for Chundango was

not yet so familiar with the customs of polite society, as to believe

such heartless conduct on the part of Lady Broadhem possible; "but I

assure you this is the usual form among ladies in London. I am well

aware no Hindoo woman would have done it; but you must remember, Mr

Chundango, that you are in a Christian and a civilised country, where

money is essential to make the pot boil--not in a tropical heathen land

where a pocket-handkerchief is sufficient for clothing, and a few

plantains for sustenance. We don't keep our hearts in a state of nature

in this country a bit more than our bodies--it would not be considered

proper; you'll soon get over it"--but Chundango's eyes were gleaming

with revenge.

"Ah!" he said, drawing his breath with a sibilant sound, "everybody in

London shall hear how I have got over it."

"Nobody would believe you, and you would only be laughed at. Lady

Broadhem would flatly deny it. We always do deny those little episodes.

My good innocent Chundango, how much you have to learn, and how simple

and guileless they are in your native country to what we are here! No,

no! come with me; I will do the best for everybody, and send you back to

your mother dutiful and repentant--you had no business ever to desert

her;" and I rang the bell.

"Tell Lady Broadhem," I said to Drippings, "that I have gone with Mr

Chundango into the City, and will call again to-morrow." I took

Chundango straight to Bodwinkle's, and found the millionaire in close

confabulation with Spiffy Goldtip. Between them was the address to the

electors of Shuffleborough, with which my readers are already familiar.

"We must alter it slightly," said Spiffy as I entered.

"What! haven't you issued it yet?" I asked.

"No," he said; "we were just going to send it out to-day."

"Then I am in time to stop you. Your address, Spiffy, so outraged

Stepton, that he has determined to stand himself, and neither you nor

Bodwinkle have a chance; so I would advise you to keep that document

back," I said, turning to Bodwinkle, who looked dumbfounded and

crestfallen.

"A nice mess you have got me into between you," he said, sulkily gazing

at us both.

"Spiffy has, but my turn has yet to come. Bodwinkle, I think you know

more of Mr Chundango's affairs than any one else; in fact, I suppose you

have what the tradesmen call 'a little account' between you. He wishes

to say a few words confidentially to you, while I want to have a moment

alone with Spiffy."

"You know all about him?" I said, nodding towards Chundango.

"Collapsed, hasn't he?" said Spiffy.

"Yes," I said, "but it won't be known for a day or two. At present he is

Lord Scilly's nominee. Bodwinkle wants a borough. He may either ignore

his last programme, as it is not yet issued, and adopt Scilly's

political views, or, if he is too conscientious, when Chundango retires

at the last moment, he may snatch the seat. All that is your affair--you

know Scilly and Bodwinkle both better than I do. Now I have reasons for

wanting Chundango shipped back at once to Bombay, and for wishing to

close this long-standing affair of Lady Broadhem's with Bodwinkle. Make

the best terms you can for Chundango, and see what Bodwinkle is disposed

to do in the other matter; and let me know the result to-morrow. Keep

Chundango here now to refer to. Good-bye, Bodwinkle," I called out;

"Spiffy has got some good news to give you, but be merciful to our

friend here," and I passed my arm through Chundango's and drew him to a

corner. "Now, look here," I said, in a whisper, "if you will bury the

recollection of what has passed between you and Lady Broadhem, and never

breathe a word of it even in your dreams, I will get Bodwinkle to start

you again in Bombay, but you must go back at once and stay there. Now

you may stay here, for you will be wanted." I saw Spiffy meantime

imparting to Bodwinkle his projects for turning to account the new

prospects I had been the means of opening out to him.

"Dear me," I thought, as I for the second time that day threaded my way

westwards from the City, "all this is unravelling itself very neatly,

considering how much dirt is mixed up in it, but it is not quite far

enough advanced to be communicated to Grandon." The fact is, I had a

sort of suspicion that he would not altogether approve of my mode of

carrying my point, even when my only desire was to secure his and

Ursula's happiness. No, I thought; he would have scruples, and object,

and bother. I won't tell him anything till it is all done; but I must

tell him something, as I promised him some good news to-day, and he is

waiting at home on purpose.

"Well, old fellow, I think I have got a borough for you, after all. It

stupidly did not occur to me before, but you are just the man for the

constituency."

"I thought you had been to Lady Broadhem's, and were to bring me back

some good news," said Grandon, with a disappointed air.

"So I have," I replied, "but I am bound to secrecy for another

twenty-four hours; meantime, listen! I am going to retire from

Dunderhead. I wrote my address a few days ago, but did not send it. They

are therefore quite unprepared. I will retire to-morrow; the nomination

is to be in two or three days; and what with the suddenness of the

affair and my influence, your return is certain."

"You going to retire!" said Grandon, astounded. "Why, you never told me

of this. When did you make up your mind?"

"It made itself up, as it always does," I said, laughing. "It never puts

me in the painful position of having to decide, but takes its own line

at once. I am going to America by the next steamer." Now, when I tell my

readers that when I began to talk to Grandon I had no intention whatever

of going to America, they will be able to form some idea, if they have

not done so already, of what a funny mind mine is. It came upon me with

the irresistible force of an inspiration, and from that moment I was

morally booked and bound at all hazards to go.

Grandon knew me so well that he was less surprised than he might have

been, and only sighed deeply. He felt at that moment that there was

something hopelessly wrong about me. He had been so often encouraged by

a certain steadiness which I maintained for some time, and which led him

to think me changed, and so often disappointed; for when he least

expected it I broke the slender fetters of common-sense and

conventionalism, which he and society between them had woven round me,

and went off at a tangent.

"Never mind, old fellow," I said, laughing, "there is no use sighing

over me. I have pleasures and satisfactions arising from within that I

should not have if I was like everybody else. Now, for instance:"--and

the eagerness and turmoil which my new project excited within me seemed

to reduce every other consideration to insignificance, for I began to

feel conscious that, somehow or other, though I had often been in

America before, this time it was to be to me a newer world than ever.

"Are you going alone?" said Grandon; for I had not finished my sentence.

"No," I said; and I guessed who my companion was to be, though no words

had been exchanged between us.

"Who IS going with you?" he asked, wonderingly, for my manner struck

him, and I scarcely heard his question, so wrapt at that instance seemed

all my faculties. I think I fell asleep and dreamt, but I can't recall

exactly what I seemed to see. Grandon was shaking me, I thought, in the

most heartless manner, and I told him as much when I opened my eyes. The

fact was, I was a little knocked up with excitement; but I would not go

and lie down till he promised me to stand for Dunderhead. Then I went to

bed, and did not get up till the lamps were being lighted in Piccadilly.

The result of such irregular hours was that I was in bed next morning

when Spiffy Goldtip knocked at my bedroom-door. He had worked very hard

in Lady Broadhem's interest, and explained to me the scheme which he had

arranged with Bodwinkle, by means of which, at a very considerable

sacrifice of my own capital, I could start Lady Broadhem and her son

afresh in the world, on a very limited income, but devoid of

encumbrances of a threatening or embarrassing nature. I would far rather

have invested the same amount in securing a larger income to Grandon and

Ursula, if they were ever destined to be united; but I knew that, in the

first place, nothing would induce them to take it from me; and in the

second, that I could only even now hope to extort Lady Broadhem's

consent to the match by the prospect I was enabled to hold out to her of

a period of financial repose. After all, my own wants were moderate, and

L15,000 a-year satisfied them as well as L20,000.

"We accomplished great things yesterday," said Spiffy, rubbing his hands

gleefully, for he had himself benefited by the settlement above alluded

to. "When I showed Bodwinkle that we could make the Scilly boroughs a

certainty, he behaved like a gentleman, and our friend Chundango is to

go out to Bombay by the next mail, under more favourable conditions than

he could have possibly expected. Of course I shall retire from

contesting Shuffleborough to the more congenial atmosphere of Homburg.

Heigho!" sighed Spiffy, "I have gone through a good deal of wear and

tear this season, and want to recruit."

I got rid of Spiffy as soon as I had heard what he had to say, and I was

so satisfied with his intelligence that I determined at once to see

Grandon, and to take him with me to Lady Broadhem's. "Grandon," I said,

abruptly entering his room, "I want you to come with me at once to

Grosvenor Square."

"Did Lady Broadhem tell you to ask me?" He looked up with such a sad,

wistful gaze as he said this, that my heart melted towards him, for I

felt I had spoken roughly; so I drew a chair close to him, and, sitting

by his side, placed my arm in his as we did in the old school-days.

"My dear old fellow, the moment is come for you to prove your friendship

by trusting me thoroughly. I know how rudely Lady Broadhem has always

behaved to you whenever you have met--I know how my conduct has

perplexed and grieved you. Well, now, I have come to ask you to forgive

us both."

"I have nothing to forgive; but it would be an utter want of taste in me

to go there unless she expects me, and wishes to see me, and I can

hardly hope that," he said, with a forced smile.

For a moment I doubted whether I dared to risk it, but I had placed Lady

Broadhem in a position upon which I could venture a good deal, and I

longed for the triumph and gratification of enjoying the success of my

own handiwork. It would be a triumph full of alloy, but I wanted to see

how much I could achieve and--bear; so my hesitation vanished.

"I will take the responsibility on myself," I said; "and believe me, I

would not urge it if I was not perfectly certain that I was doing what

is right. Remember how many times I have blindly followed your advice. I

only ask you this once to follow mine, and secure your own happiness."

The temptation was too strong, and Grandon yielded; but it was with a

reluctant, doubtful step that he approached the door he had not this

year ventured to enter. It was opened by Drippings, and I took the

opportunity of having a little private conversation with him in the

hall, in the course of which it was arranged that he should exchange her

ladyship's service for mine, and accompany me to America: the truth is,

I proposed settling him there, and making him send for his wife and

family. He knew too much of Lady Broadhem's affairs to be at all a

desirable domestic either to herself or to her friends in this country.

"Lady Broadhem is in her own sitting-room, my lord," said Drippings;

"shall I show your lordship up to her?"

"No; if there is nobody in the drawing-room, take us there first. Now,

Grandon, I will send for you when you are wanted; keep quiet, and don't

get impatient;" and I left him and knocked at Lady Broadhem's door.

The events of the last twenty-four hours had told upon her, and the old

wrinkles had come back, with several new ones. She was at that critical

age when a great grief or anxiety can make an elderly person antiquated

in a night--just as hair will turn grey in a few hours. She put out her

hand without speaking, but with an expression of resignation which

seemed to say, "I acknowledge myself beaten; be a brute or anything else

you like; trample upon me, pray--I am down without the possibility of

retaliating, but you will get very little sport out of me; badger me if

you like, I don't mean to show fight." All this I read in her face as

plainly as if she had said it; and I thought this a moment when

generosity on the part of the victor will prove one to be a true

strategist; and no one will appreciate it more than Lady Broadhem. With

great gentleness, and without allowing a shade of self-satisfaction to

cross my face or to penetrate my tones, I told her how I had propitiated

Bodwinkle, banished Chundango, provided for Drippings, and succeeded at

last in placing her affairs generally on a sound footing.

"Your genius will never be appreciated by the world, Frank," she said,

smiling half ironically, half sadly.

"I am quite aware of that," I replied; "nor will this record of my

experiences in it--except by you and one or two others who know how true

it is. And now, Lady Broadhem, you know the wish which is nearest my

heart, but which I don't venture to put in words,"--and I held out my

hand.

"Yes," she said--and I saw the slender nostril dilate with the effort it

cost her to yield the point upon which she had been so long

inflexible--"you want my consent to Ursula's marriage with Grandon. I

give it."

"Wait a minute; I should like Lady Ursula to be present," I said; for

even now I did not feel that I could trust the old lady thoroughly, and

I rang the bell. It was delightful to see how submissively Lady Broadhem

sent for Lady Ursula, and how kindly she greeted both son and daughter

as they entered, for Broadhem accompanied his sister.

"I have sent for you, my dear," she said, "to tell you how much we owe

to our kind friend here, who has completely relieved my mind from all

those anxieties which have been weighing upon it for the last few years,

by his noble and generous conduct. Ursula, dear, you will never know

really how much you owe him, for he has shown me that I have not done my

duty to you as a mother;" and Lady Broadhem's voice trembled. "Upon my

word," I thought, "I do believe the old woman is sincere;" and I looked

at her fixedly. The tears were filling her eyes. Now pray heaven that we

have got to heart at last--it is like sinking a well in a thirsty

desert, and coming on water. Yes, there they are welling out, honest

large drops, chasing each other to the point of her nose. Oh, my dear

Lady Broadhem, I am beginning to love you, and my eyes are beginning to

swim too; and before she knew where she was, I threw my arms round her

neck and kissed her--an example which was rapidly followed both by

Ursula and Broadhem, and which so overcame their mother that she buried

her face in a pillow and sobbed out--in tears that might at first have

been bitter, but were assuredly sweet and refreshing at last--her

repentance. I don't think Broadhem had any very definite idea why he

wept, beyond a feeling of sympathy with his mother, and the fact, which

I afterwards heard, that Wild Harrie had taken Spiffy's advice, and

refused him; so he mingled his tears with hers, but Lady Ursula's eyes

were dry and supernaturally brilliant. As I gazed on the group, my own

heart seemed to swell to bursting. I do really believe and trust that

Lady Broadhem will give up the worldly-holies, and become a pious good

woman; and that those talents and that force of character which she

possesses may be dedicated to a higher service than they have heretofore

been. If I have been the humble instrument of working the change, the

sooner I send Grandon here and vanish myself from the scene, the better,

or I shall become vain and conceited, I thought; and I rose from my

seat.

"Good-bye, Lady Broadhem," I said, "you will not see me again. I am

going to America in three days, and must go to Flityville to-morrow; but

I never thought I could have bid you all farewell and felt so happy at

the prospect of parting;" and I threw one yearning glance on Ursula in

spite of myself. "Your happiness is secured, I do most firmly believe,"

I said to her; "and as for you," and I laid my hand on Broadhem's

shoulder, "remember the experiment I proposed to you the other night,

and try it;" and I was moving off when Ursula seized my hand, and almost

dragged me back to her mother's side. She lifted up her eyes like one

inspired, and the radiancy of her expression seemed to dazzle and blind

me. Then she knelt down, and I knelt by her side, while her mother lay

before us, her whole frame heaving with convulsive sobs, and Broadhem

stood by wondering and awestruck. I can't repeat that prayer here, but

there was a power in those gentle accents which stilled the stormy

elements, as the waves of the sea were once stilled before; and when the

thrilling voice ceased there was a great calm, and we knew that a change

had been affected in that place. Then the floodgates were opened which

had been to that moment barred, and Lady Ursula threw herself on her

mother's bosom, and wept tears of gratitude, and I stole silently away

to the drawing-room, and led Grandon by the hand, without uttering a

word, to that room into which a new atmosphere had descended, and a new

breath had called into existence a new nature. He started back on the

threshold at the picture before him. Lady Broadhem, apparently scarcely

conscious, clasped in the arms of her weeping daughter; and

Broadhem--poor Broadhem--bewildered at the sight of the strong woman he

had dreaded and worshipped thus suddenly breaking down, was sitting on a

footstool at his mother's side, holding one of her hands, helplessly.

"Good God! Frank," said Grandon, in a whisper, for neither Lady Broadhem

nor her daughter saw us, "what have you been doing?"

"Beginning the work which is left for you to finish;" and I gently

disengaged one of Lady Ursula's hands, and drew it towards me. "On you,"

I said to her solemnly, "has been bestowed a great gift; use it as you

have done, and may he share it with you, and support you in the lifelong

trial it must involve, and in the ridicule to which you will both be

exposed. For myself, I go to seek it where I am told I shall alone find

it." I placed her hand in Grandon's, kissed her mother on the forehead,

and hurried from the room. Then the strain on my nervous system suddenly

relaxed. I am conscious of Drippings helping me into a cab, and going

with me to Piccadilly, and of one coming in and finding me stretched on

my bed, and of his lifting me from it by a single touch, just as

Drippings was going off in quest of the doctor. It was he who had met me

that night when I was walking with Broadhem, but his name I am unable to

divulge. "Stay here, my friend," he said to Drippings, "and pack your

master's things: there is no need for the doctor; I will take him to

America." And my heart leaped within me, for its predictions were

verified, and the path lay clear before me.

And now, on this last night in England, as I pen the last lines of this

record of my life during the six months that are past, and look back to

the spirit in which it was begun, and examine the influences which

impelled me to write as I have, I see that I too have undergone a

change, and that the time has come when, if I wished, I can no more

descant as heretofore on the faults and foibles of the day. Among those

who have read me there may be some who have so well understood, that

they will see why this is so. If in what I have said I have hurt the

feelings of any man or woman in my desire to expose the vices of society

at large, they will be of those who have failed to detect why I have

said thus much, and needs must stop here; but none the less earnestly

would I assure them that it has been against my will and intention to

wound any one. As I began because I could not help it, so I end because

I am obliged. My task is done. The seed which I found in my hand, such

as it was, I have sown. Whether it rots and dies in the ground, or

springs up and brings forth fruit, is a matter in which I cannot, and

ought not, to have the smallest personal interest.

THE END.