_Fresh Entanglements_
HIS Grace completed his stud, and became one of the most distinguished
votaries of the turf. Sir Lucius was the inspiring divinity upon this
occasion. Our hero, like all young men, and particularly young nobles,
did everything in extremes; and extensive arrangements were made by
himself and his friend for the ensuing campaign. Sir Lucius was to reap
half the profit, and to undertake the whole management. The Duke was to
produce the capital and to pocket the whole glory. Thus rolled on some
weeks, at the end of which our hero began to get a little tired. He
had long ago recovered all his self-complacency, and if the form of May
Dacre ever flitted before his vision for an instant, he clouded it
over directly by the apparition of a bet, or thrust it away with that
desperate recklessness with which we expel an ungracious thought. The
Duke sighed for a little novelty. Christmas was at hand. He began to
think that a regular country Christmas must be a sad bore. Lady Afy,
too, was rather _exigeante_. It destroys one’s nerves to be amiable
every day to the same human being. She was the best creature in the
world; but Cambridgeshire was not a pleasant county. He was most
attached; but there was not another agreeable woman in the house. He
would not hurt her feelings for the world; but his own were suffering
desperately. He had no idea that he ever should get so entangled.
Brighton, they say, is a pleasant place.
To Brighton he went; and although the Graftons were to follow him in
a fortnight, still even these fourteen days were a holiday. It is
extraordinary how hourly, and how violently, change the feelings of an
inexperienced young man.
Sir Lucius, however, was disappointed in his Brighton trip. Ten days
after the departure of the young Duke the county member died. Sir Lucius
had been long maturing his pretensions to the vacant representation. He
was strongly supported; for he was a personal favourite, and his
family had claims; but he was violently opposed; for a _novus homo_ was
ambitious, and the Baronet was poor. Sir Lucius was a man of violent
passions, and all feelings and considerations immediately merged in
his paramount ambition. His wife, too, at this moment, was an important
personage. She was generally popular; she was beautiful, highly
connected, and highly considered. Her canvassing was a great object. She
canvassed with earnestness and with success; for since her consolatory
friendship with the Duke of St. James her character had greatly changed,
and she was now as desirous of conciliating her husband and the opinion
of society as she was before disdainful of the one and fearless of the
other. Sir Lucius and Lady Aphrodite Grafton were indeed on the best
possible terms, and the whole county admired his conjugal attentions and
her wifelike affections.
The Duke, who had no influence in this part of the world, and who was
not at all desirous of quitting Brighton, compensated for his absence at
this critical moment by a friendly letter and the offer of his purse.
By this good aid, his wife’s attractions, and his own talents, Sir Lucy
succeeded, and by the time Parliament had assembled he was returned
member for his native county.
In the meantime, his friend had been spending his time at Brighton in a
far less agitated manner, but, in its way, not less successful; for he
was amused, and therefore gained his object as much as the Baronet. The
Duke liked Brighton much. Without the bore of an establishment, he found
himself among many agreeable friends, living in an unostentatious and
impromptu, though refined and luxurious, style. One day a new face,
another day a new dish, another day a new dance, successively interested
his feelings, particularly if the face rode, which they all do; the
dish was at Sir George Sauceville’s, and the dance at the Duke of
Burlington’s. So time flew on, between a canter to Rottindean, the
flavours of a Perigord, and the blunders of the mazurka.
But February arrived, and this agreeable life must end. The philosophy
of society is so practical that it is not allowed, even to a young Duke,
absolutely to trifle away existence. Duties will arise, in spite of our
best endeavours; and his Grace had to roll up to town, to dine with the
Premier, and to move the Address.