Madame Colonna, with that vivacious energy which characterises the
south, had no sooner seen Coningsby, and heard his praises celebrated
by his grandfather, than she resolved that an alliance should sooner
or later take place between him and her step-daughter. She imparted her
projects without delay to Lucretia, who received them in a different
spirit from that in which they were communicated. Lucretia bore as
little resemblance to her step-mother in character, as in person. If
she did not possess her beauty, she was born with an intellect of far
greater capacity and reach. She had a deep judgment. A hasty alliance
with a youth, arranged by their mutual relatives, might suit very well
the clime and manners of Italy, but Lucretia was well aware that it was
altogether opposed to the habits and feelings of this country. She had
no conviction that either Coningsby would wish to marry her, or, if
willing, that his grandfather would sanction such a step in one as yet
only on the threshold of the world. Lucretia therefore received
the suggestions and proposals of Madarne Colonna with coldness and
indifference; one might even say contempt, for she neither felt respect
for this lady, nor was she sedulous to evince it. Although really
younger than Coningsby, Lucretia felt that a woman of eighteen is, in
all worldly considerations, ten years older than a youth of the same
age. She anticipated that a considerable time might elapse before
Coningsby would feel it necessary to seal his destiny by marriage,
while, on the other hand, she was not only anxious, but resolved, not
to delay on her part her emancipation from the galling position in which
she very frequently found herself.
Lucretia felt rather than expressed these ideas and impressions. She
was not naturally communicative, and conversed with no one with less
frankness and facility than with her step-mother. Madame Colonna
therefore found no reasons in her conversation with Lucretia to change
her determination. As her mind was not ingenious she did not see
questions in those various lights which make us at the same time infirm
of purpose and tolerant. What she fancied ought to be done, she fancied
must be done; for she perceived no middle course or alternative. For
the rest, Lucretia’s carriage towards her gave her little discomfort.
Besides, she herself, though good-natured, was obstinate. Her feelings
were not very acute; nothing much vexed her. As long as she had fine
dresses, good dinners, and opera-boxes, she could bear her plans to be
crossed like a philosopher; and her consolation under her unaccomplished
devices was her admirable consistency, which always assured her that her
projects were wise, though unfulfilled.
She broke her purpose to Mr. Rigby, that she might gain not only his
adhesion to her views, but his assistance in achieving them. As Madame
Colonna, in Mr. Rigby’s estimation, exercised more influence over Lord
Monmouth than any other individual, faithful to his policy or practice,
he agreed with all Madame Colonna’s plans and wishes, and volunteered
instantly to further them. As for the Prince, his wife never consulted
him on any subject, nor did he wish to be consulted. On the contrary, he
had no opinion about anything. All that he required was that he should
be surrounded by what contributed to his personal enjoyment, that he
should never be troubled, and that he should have billiards. He was not
inexpert in field-sports, rode indeed very well for an Italian, but
he never cared to be out-of-doors; and there was only one room in the
interior which passionately interested him. It was where the echoing
balls denoted the sweeping hazard or the effective cannonade. That was
the chamber where the Prince Colonna literally existed. Half-an-hour
after breakfast he was in the billiard-room; he never quitted it until
he dressed for dinner; and he generally contrived, while the world were
amused or amusing themselves at the comedy or in the dance, to steal
down with some congenial sprites to the magical and illumined chamber,
and use his cue until bedtime.
Faithful to her first impressions, Lucretia had made no difference
in her demeanour to Coningsby to that which she offered to the other
guests. Polite, but uncommunicative; ready to answer, but never
originating conversation; she charmed him as little by her manner as by
her person; and after some attempts, not very painstaking, to interest
her, Coningsby had ceased to address her. The day passed by with only a
faint recognition between them; even that sometimes omitted.
When, however, Lucretia observed that Coningsby had become one of the
most notable persons in the Castle; when she heard everywhere of
his talents and accomplishments, his beauty and grace and great
acquirements, and perceived that he was courted by all; that Lord
Monmouth omitted no occasion publicly to evince towards him his regard
and consideration; that he seemed generally looked upon in the light of
his grandfather’s heir; and that Lady St. Julians, more learned in that
respect than any lady in the kingdom, was heard more than once to regret
that she had not brought another daughter with her, Clara Isabella, as
well as Augustina; the Princess Lucretia began to imagine that Madame
Colonna, after all, might not be so extravagant in her purpose as she
had first supposed. She, therefore, surprised Coningsby with the almost
affectionate moroseness with which, while she hated to sing, she yet
found pleasure in singing for him alone. And it is impossible to say
what might not have been the next move in her tactics in this respect,
had not the very night on which she had resolved to commence the
enchantment of Coningsby introduced to her Sidonia.
The Princess Lucretia encountered the dark still glance of the friend of
Lord Eskdale. He, too, beheld a woman unlike other women, and with his
fine experience, both as a man and as a physiologist, felt that he was
in the presence of no ordinary organisation. From the evening of his
introduction Sidonia sought the society of the Princess Lucretia. He
could not complain of her reserve. She threw out her mind in various and
highly-cultivated intelligence. He recognised in her a deep and subtile
spirit, considerable reading for a woman, habits of thought, and a soul
passionate and daring. She resolved to subdue one whose appreciation she
had gained, and who had subdued her. The profound meaning and the calm
manner of Sidonia combined to quell her spirit. She struggled against
the spell. She tried to rival his power; to cope with him, and with
the same weapons. But prompt as was her thought and bright as was
its expression, her heart beat in tumult; and, with all her apparent
serenity, her agitated soul was a prey of absorbing passion. She could
not contend with that intelligent, yet inscrutable, eye; with that
manner so full of interest and respect, and yet so tranquil. Besides,
they were not on equal terms. Here was a girl contending with a man
learned in the world’s way.
Between Sidonia and Coningsby there at once occurred companionship. The
morning after his arrival they went out shooting together. After a long
ramble they would stretch themselves on the turf under a shady tree,
often by the side of some brook where the cresses grow, that added
a luxury to their sporting-meal; and then Coningsby would lead their
conversation to some subject on which Sidonia would pour out his mind
with all that depth of reflection, variety of knowledge, and richness
of illustrative memory, which distinguished him; and which offered so
striking a contrast to the sharp talent, the shallow information, and
the worldly cunning, that make a Rigby.
This fellowship between Sidonia and Coningsby elevated the latter still
more in the estimation of Lucretia, and rendered her still more desirous
of gaining his good will and opinion. A great friendship seemed to have
arisen between them, and the world began to believe that there must be
some foundation for Madame Colonna’s innuendos. That lady herself
was not in the least alarmed by the attention which Sidonia paid her
step-daughter. It was, of course, well known that Sidonia was not a
marrying man. He was, however, a great friend of Mr. Coningsby, his
presence and society brought Coningsby and Lucretia more together; and
however flattered her daughter might be for the moment by Sidonia’s
homage, still, as she would ultimately find out, if indeed she ever
cared so to do, that Sidonia could only be her admirer, Madame Colonna
had no kind of doubt that ultimately Coningsby would be Lucretia’s
husband, as she had arranged from the first.
The Princess Lucretia was a fine horse-woman, though she rarely joined
the various riding-parties that were daily formed at the Castle. Often,
indeed, attended only by her groom, she met the equestrians. Now she
would ride with Sidonia and Coningsby, and as a female companion was
indispensable, she insisted upon La Petite accompanying her. This was a
fearful trial for Flora, but she encountered it, encouraged by the kind
solicitude of Coningsby, who always seemed her friend.
Very shortly after the arrival of Sidonia, the Grand-duke and his suite
quitted the Castle, which had been his Highness’ head-quarters during
his visit to the manufacturing districts; but no other great change in
the assembled company occurred for some little time.