Meanwhile at Madeira matters were going on much as we left them; there
had indeed been little appreciable change in the situation.
For his part, our friend Arthur continued to dance or rather stroll
along the edge of his flowery precipice, and found the view pleasant
and the air bracing.
And no doubt things were very nicely arranged for his satisfaction, and
had it not been for the ever-present thought of Angela—for he did think
of her a great deal and with deep longing—he should have enjoyed
himself thoroughly, for every day was beautiful, and every day brought
its amusements with it. Perhaps on arriving at the Quinta Carr about
eleven o’clock, he would find that the steam launch was waiting for
them in a little bay where the cliff on which the house stood curved
inwards. Then, a merry party of young English folks all collected
together by Mrs. Carr that morning by the dint of superhuman efforts,
they would scramble down the steps cut in the rock and steam off to
some neighbouring islet to eat luncheon and wander about collecting
shells and flowers and beetles till sunset, and then steam back again
through the spicy evening air, laughing and flirting and making the
night melodious with their songs. Or else the horses would be ordered
out and they would wander over the lonely mountains in the interior of
the island, talking of mummies and all things human, of Angela and all
things divine. And sometimes, in the course of these conversations,
Arthur would in a brotherly way call Mrs. Carr “Mildred,” while
occasionally, in the tone of a spinster aunt, she would address him as
“Arthur,” a practice that, once acquired, she soon found was, like all
other bad habits, not easy to get rid of. For somehow in all these
expeditions she was continually at his side, striving, and not without
success, to weave herself into the substance of his life, and to make
herself indispensable to him, till at last he grew to look upon her
almost as a sister.
But beyond this he never went, and to her advances he was as cold as
ice, simply because he never noticed them, and she was afraid of making
them more obvious for fear that she would frighten him away. He thought
it the most natural thing in the world that he and Mildred should live
together like brother and sister, and be very fond of each other as
“sich,” whilst she thought him—just what he was—the blindest of fools,
and then loved him the more for his folly. The sisterly relationship
did not possess the same charms for Mildred that it did for Arthur;
they looked at matters from different points of view.
One morning, peeping through a big telescope that was fixed in the
window of the little boudoir which formed an entrance lobby to the
museum, Mrs. Carr saw a cloud of smoke upon the horizon. Presently the
point of a mast poked up through the vapour as though the vessel were
rising out of the ocean, then two more mastheads and a red and black
funnel, and last of all a great grey hull.
“Hurrah!” called out Mrs. Carr, with one eye still fixed to the
telescope and the remainder of her little face all screwed up in her
efforts to keep the other closed, “it’s the mail; I can see the Donald
Currie flag, a white C on a blue ground.”
“Well, I am sure, Mildred, there’s no need for you to make your face
look like a monkey, if it is; you look just as though the corner of
your mouth were changing places with your eyebrow.”
“Agatha, you are dreadfully rude; when the fairies took your endowments
in hand, they certainly did not forget the gift of plain speech. I
shall appeal to Mr. Heigham; do I look like a monkey, Mr. Heigham? No,
on second thoughts, I won’t wait for the inevitable compliment. Arthur,
hold your tongue and I will tell you something. That must be the new
boat, the _Garth Castle_, and I want to see over her. Captain Smithson,
who is bringing her out, has got a box of things for me. What do you
say if we kill two birds with one stone, go and see the vessel and get
our luncheon on board.”
“I am at your ladyship’s service,” answered Arthur, lazily, “but would
you like to have the compliment apropos of the monkey? I have thought
of something extremely neat now.”
“Not on any account; I hate compliments that are not meant,” and her
eyes gave a little flash which put a point to her words. “Agatha, I
suppose that you will come?”
“Well, yes, dear, the bay looks pretty smooth.”
“Smooth, yes, you might sail across it in a paper ship,” yawned Arthur.
“For goodness’ sake don’t look so lazy, Mr. Heigham, but ring the bell
—not that one, the electric one—and let us order the launch at once.
The mail will be at anchor in about an hour.”
Arthur did as he was bid, and within that time they were steaming
through the throng of boats already surrounding the steamer.
“My gracious, Mildred,” suddenly exclaimed Agatha, “do you see who that
is there leaning over the bulwarks? oh, he’s gone, but so sure as I am
a living woman, it was Lord Minster and Lady Florence Thingumebob, his
sister, you know, the pretty one.”
Mildred looked vexed, and glanced involuntarily at Arthur who was
steering the launch. For a moment she hesitated about going on, and
glanced again at Arthur. The look seemed to inspire her, for she said
nothing, and presently he brought the boat deftly alongside the gangway
ladder.
The captain of the ship had already come to the side to meet her,
having recognized her from the bridge; indeed there was scarcely a man
in Donald Currie’s service who did not know Mrs. Carr, at any rate, by
sight.
“How do you do, Mrs. Carr; are you coming on to South Africa with us?”
“No, Captain Smithson; I, or rather we, are coming to lunch, and to see
your new boat, and last, but not least, to claim my box.”
“Mrs. Carr, will you ever forgive me? I have lost it!”
“Produce my box, Captain Smithson, or I will never speak to you again.
I’ll do more. I’ll go over to the Union line.”
“In which case, I am afraid Donald Currie would never speak to me
again. I must certainly try to find that box,” and he whispered an
order to a quartermaster. “Well, it is very kind of you to come and
lunch, and I hope that you and your friends will do so with me. Till
then, good-by, I must be off.”
As soon as they got on the quarter-deck, Arthur perceived a tall,
well-preserved man with an eyeglass, whom he seemed to know, bearing
down upon them, followed by a charming-looking girl, about three-and-
twenty years of age, remarkable for her pleasant eyes and the humorous
expression of her mouth.
“How do you do, Mrs. Carr?” said the tall man. “I suppose that you
heard that we were coming; it is very good of you to come and meet us.”
“I had not the slightest idea that you were coming, and I did not come
to meet you, Lord Minster; I came to lunch,” answered Mrs. Carr, rather
coldly.
“Nasty one for James that, very,” murmured Lady Florence; “hope it will
do him good.”
“I was determined to come and look you up as soon as I got time, but
the House sat very late. However, I have got a fortnight here now, and
shall see plenty of you.”
“A good deal too much I daresay, Lord Minster; but let me introduce you
to Mr. Heigham.”
Lord Minster glanced casually at Arthur, and, lifting his hat about an
eighth of an inch, was about to resume his conversation, when Arthur,
who was rather nettled by this treatment, said,
“I think I have had the pleasure of meeting you before, Lord Minster;
we were stopping together at the Stanley Foxes last autumn.”
“Stanley Foxes, ah, quite so, forgive my forgetfulness, but one meets
so many people, you see,” and he turned round to where Mrs. Carr had
been, but that lady had taken the opportunity to retreat. Lord Minster
at once followed her.
“Well, if my brother has forgotten you, Mr. Heigham, I have not,” said
Lady Florence, now coming forward for the first time. “Don’t you
remember when we went nutting together and I tumbled into the pond?”
“Indeed I do, Lady Florence, and I can’t tell you how pleased I am to
see you again. Are you here for long?”
“An indefinite time: an old aunt of mine, Mrs. Velley, is coming out by
next mail, and I am going to stop with her when my brother goes back.
Are you staying with Mrs. Carr?”
“Oh no, only I know her very well.”
“Do you admire her?”
“Immensely.”
“Then you won’t like James—I mean my brother.”
“Why not?”
“Because he also admires her immensely.”
“We both admire the view from here very much indeed, but that is no
reason why you and I should not like each other.”
“No, but then you see there is a difference between lovely scenery and
lovely widows.”
“Perhaps there is,” said Arthur.
At this moment Lord Minster returned with Mrs. Carr.
“How do you do, Lady Florence?” said the latter; “let me introduce you
to Mr. Heigham. What, do you already know each other?”
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Carr, we are old friends.”
“Oh, indeed, that is very charming for you.”
“Yes, it is,” said Lady Florence, frankly.
“Well, we must be off now, Florence.”
“All right, James, I’m ready.”
“Will you both come and dine with me to-night sans façon, there will be
nobody else except Agatha and Mr. Heigham?” asked Mrs. Carr.
“We shall be delighted,” said Lord Minster.
“_Au revoir_, then,” nodded Lady Florence to Arthur, and they
separated.
When, after lunching and seeing round the ship, Miss Terry and Arthur
found themselves in the steam launch waiting for Mrs. Carr, who was
saying good-by to the captain and looking after her precious box,
Arthur took the opportunity to ask his companion what she knew of Lord
Minster.
“Oh, not much, that is, nothing in particular, except that he is the
son of a sugar-broker or something, who was made a peer for some reason
or other, and I suppose that is why he is so stuck up, because all the
other peers I ever met are just like other people. He is very clever,
too, is in the government now, and always hanging about after Mildred.
He wants to marry her, you know, and I expect that he will at last, but
I hope he won’t. I don’t like him; he always looks at one as though one
were dirt.”
“The deuce he does!” ejaculated Arthur, his heart filling on the
instant with envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness towards
Lord Minster. He had not the slightest wish to marry Mildred himself,
but he boiled at the mere thought of anybody else doing so. Lady
Florence was right, there is a difference between ladies and
landscapes.
At that moment Mildred herself arrived, but so disgusted was he that he
would scarcely speak to her, and on arriving at the landing stage he at
once departed to the hotel, and even tried to get out of coming to
dinner that night, but this was overruled.
“Good,” said Mildred to herself, with a smile; “I have found out how to
vex him.”
At dinner that evening Lord Minster, who had of course taken his
hostess in, opened the conversation by asking her how she had been
employing herself at Madeira.
“Better than you have at St. Stephen’s, Lord Minster; at any rate, I
have not been forwarding schemes for highway robbery and the national
disgrace,” she answered, laughing.
“I suppose that you mean the Irish Land Act and the Transvaal
Convention. I have heard several ladies speak of them like that, and I
am really coming to the conclusion that your sex is entirely devoid of
political instinct.”
“What do you mean by political instinct, Lord Minster?” asked Arthur.
“By political instinct,” he replied, “I understand a proper
appreciation of the science and object of government.”
“Goodness me, what are they?” asked Mrs. Carr.
“Well, the science of government consists, roughly speaking, in knowing
how to get into office, and remain there when once in; its objects are
to guess and give expression to the prevailing popular feeling or whim
with the loss of as few votes as possible.”
“According to that definition,” said Arthur, “all national questions
are, or should be, treated by those who understand the ‘science and
objects of government’ on a semi-financial basis. I mean, they should
be dealt with as an investor deals with his funds, in order to make as
much out of them as possible, not to bring real benefit to the
country.”
“You put the matter rather awkwardly, but I think I follow you. I will
try to explain. In the first place, all the old-fashioned Jingo
nonsense about patriotism and the ‘honour of the country’ has, if
people only knew it, quite exploded; it only lingers in a certain
section of the landed gentry and a proportion of the upper middle
class, and has no serious weight with leading politicians.”
“How about Lord Beaconsfield?”
“Well, he was perhaps an exception; but then he was a man with so large
a mind—I say it, though I detested him—that he could actually, by a
sort of political prescience, see into the far future, and shape his
course accordingly. But even in his case I do not believe that he was
actuated by patriotism, but rather by a keener insight into human
affairs than most men possess.”
“And yet he came terribly to grief.”
“Because he outflew his age. The will of the country—which means the
will of between five hundred thousand and a million hungry fluctuating
electors—could not wait for the development of his imperial schemes.
They wanted plunder in the present, not honour and prosperity for the
Empire in the future. The instinct of robbery is perhaps the strongest
in human nature, and those who would rule humanity on its present basis
must pander to it or fail. The party of progress means the party that
can give most spoil, taken from those that have, to those that have
not. That is why Mr. Gladstone is such a truly great man; he
understands better than any one of his age how to excite the greed of
hungry voters and to guide it for his own ends. What was the Midlothian
campaign but a crusade of plunder? First he excited the desire, then he
promised to satisfy it. Of course that is impossible, but at the time
he was believed, and his promises floated us triumphantly into power.
The same arguments apply to that body of electors whose motive power is
sentiment—their folly must be pandered to. For instance, the Transvaal
Convention that Mrs. Carr mentioned is an admirable example of how such
pandering is done. No man of experience can have believed that such an
agreement could be wise, or that it can result in anything but trouble
and humiliation; but the trouble and humiliation will not come just
yet, and in the meanwhile a sop is thrown to Cerberus. Political
memories are short, and when exposure comes it will be easy to fix the
blame upon the other side. It is because we appreciate these facts that
in the end we must prevail. The Liberal party, or rather the Radical
section, which is to the great Liberal party what the helm is to the
ship, appeals to the baser instincts and more pressing appetites of the
people; the Conservative only to their traditions and higher
aspirations, in the same way that religion appeals to the spirit, and
the worship of Mammon to the senses. The shibboleth of the one is
‘self-interest;’ of the other, ‘national honour.’ The first appeals to
the many, the second to the finer few, and I must leave you to judge
which will carry the day.”
“And if ever you become Prime Minister, shall you rule England upon
these principles?” asked Mrs. Carr.
“Certainly; it is because I have mastered them that I am what I am. I
owe everything to them, consequently in my view they are the finest of
all principles.”
“Then Heaven help England!” soliloquized Arthur, rudely.
“And so say we all,” added Lady Florence, who was a strong
Conservative.
“My dear young people,” answered Lord Minster, with a superior smile,
“England is quite capable of looking after herself. I have to look
after myself. She will, at any rate, last my time, and my motto is that
one should get something out of one’s country, not attempt to do her
services that would in all probability never be recognized, or, if
recognized, left unrewarded.”
Arthur was about to answer, with more sharpness than discretion, but
Mrs. Carr interposed.
“Well, Lord Minster, we have to thank you for a very cynical and lucid
explanation of the objects of your party, if they really are its
objects. Will you give me some wine?”
After dinner Mrs. Carr devoted herself almost exclusively to Lord
Minster, leaving Arthur to talk to Lady Florence. Lord Minster was not
slow to avail himself of the opportunity.
“I have been thinking of your remark to me in London about the
crossing-sweeper,” he began.
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake don’t drag that wretched man out of his grave,
Lord Minster. I really have forgotten what I said about him.”
“I hope, Mrs. Carr, that you have forgotten a good deal you said that
day. I may as well take this opportunity——”
“No, please don’t, Lord Minster,” she answered, knowing very well what
was coming; “I am so tired to-night.”
“Oh, in that case I can easily postpone my statement. I have a whole
fortnight before me.”
Mrs. Carr secretly determined that it should remain as much as possible
at his own exclusive disposal, but she did not say so.
Shortly after this, Arthur took his leave, after shaking hands very
coldly with her. Nor did he come to the Quinta next day, as he had
conceived too great a detestation of Lord Minster to risk meeting him,
a detestation which he attributed solely to that rising member of the
Government’s political principles, which jarred very much with his own.
“Better and better,” said Mrs. Carr to herself, as she took off her
dress, “but Lord Minster is really odious, I cannot stand him for
long.”