Lady Lendrick was dictating to her secretary, Miss Morse, the Annual
Report of the “Benevolent Ballad-Singers' Aid Society,” when her servant
announced the arrival of Mr. Cholmondely Balfour. She stopped abruptly
short at a pathetic bit of description,--“The aged minstrel, too old
for erotic poetry, and yet debarred by the stern rules of a repressive
policy from the strains of patriotic song,”--for, be it said
parenthetically, Lady Lendrick affected “Irishry” to a large
extent,--and, dismissing Miss Morse to an adjoining room, she desired
the servant to introduce Mr. Balfour.
Is it fancy, or am I right in supposing that English officials have a
manner specially assumed for Ireland and the Irish,--a thing like the
fur cloak a man wears in Russia, or the snowshoes he puts on in Lapland,
not intended for other latitudes, but admirably adapted for the locality
it is made for? I will not insist that this theory of mine is faultless,
but I appeal to a candid public of my own countrmen if they have not
in their experience seen what may support it. I do not say it is a bad
manner,--a presuming manner,--a manner of depreciation towards these it
is used to, or a manner indicative of indifference in him who uses it. I
simply say that they who employ it keep it as especially for Ireland as
they keep their macintosh capes for wet weather, and would no more think
of displaying it in England than they would go to her Majesty's levee in
a shooting-jacket. Mr. Balfour was not wanting in this manner. Indeed,
the Administration of which he formed a humble part were all proficients
in it. It was a something between a mock homage and a very jocular
familiarity, so that when he arose after a bow, deep and reverential
enough for the presence of majesty, he lounged over to a chair and threw
himself down with the ease and unconcern of one perfectly at home.
“And how is my Lady? and how are the fourscore and one associations for
turnkeys' widows and dog-stealers' orphans doing? What 's the last new
thing in benevolence? Do tell me, for I 've won five shillings at loo,
and want to invest it.”
“You mean you have drawn your quarter's salary, Mr. Balfour.”
“No, by Jove; they don't pay us so liberally. We have the run of our
teeth and no more.”
“You forget your tongue, sir; you are unjust.”
“Why, my Lady, you are as quick as Sir William himself; living with that
great wit has made you positively dangerous.”
“I have not enjoyed over-much of the opportunity you speak of.”
“Yes, I know that; no fault of yours, though. The world is agreed on
that point. I take it he's about the most impossible man to live with
the age has yet produced. Sewell has told me such things of him!--things
that would be incredible if I had not seen him.”
“I beg pardon for interrupting, but of course you have not come to
dilate on the Chief Baron's defects of temper to his wife.”
“No, only incidentally,--parenthetically, as one may say,--just as one
knocks over a hare when he's out partridge-shooting.”
“Never mind the hare, then, sir; keep to your partridges.”
“My partridges! my partridges! which are my partridges? Oh, to be sure!
I want to talk to you about Sewell. He has told you perhaps how ill we
have behaved to him,--grossly, shamefully ill, I call it.”
“He has told me that the Government object to his having this
appointment, but he has not explained on what ground.”
“Neither can I. Official life has its mysteries, and, hate them as one
may, they must be respected; he ought n't to have sold out,--it was
rank folly to sell out. What could he have in the world better than
a continued succession of young fellows fresh from home, and knowing
positively nothing of horse-flesh or billiards?”
“I don't understand you, sir,--that is, I hope I misunderstand you,”
said she, haughtily.
“I mean simply this, that I'd rather be a lieutenant-colonel with such
opportunities than I 'd be Chairman of the Great Overland.”
“Opportunities--and for what?”
“For everything,--for everything; for game off the balls, on every race
in the kingdom, and as snug a thing every night over a devilled kidney
as any man could wish for. Don't look shocked,--it's all on the square;
that old hag that was here last week would have given her diamond
ear-rings to find out something against Sewell, and she could n't.”
“You mean Lady Trafford?”
“I do. She stayed a week here just to blacken his character, and she
never could get beyond that story of her son and Mrs. Sewell.”
“What story? I never heard of it.”
“A lie, of course, from beginning to end; and it's hard to imagine that
she herself believed it.”
“But what was it?”
“Oh, a trumpery tale of young Trafford having made love to Mrs. Sewell,
and proposed to run off with her, and Sewell having played a game at
écarté on it, and lost,--the whole thing being knocked up by Trafford's
fall. But you must have heard it! The town talked of nothing else for a
fortnight.”
“The town never had the insolence to talk of it to _me_.”
“What a stupid town! If there be anything really that can be said to be
established in the code of society, it is that you may say anything
to anybody about their relations. But for such a rule how could
conversation go on?--who travels about with his friend's family-tree
in his pocket? And as to Sewell,--I suppose I may say it,--he has not a
truer friend in the world than myself.”
She bowed a very stiff acknowledgment of the speech, and he went on: “I
'm not going to say he gets on well with his wife,--but who does? Did
you ever hear of him who did? The fact I take to be this, that every one
has a certain capital of good-nature and kindliness to trade on, and he
who expends this abroad can't have so much of it for home consumption;
that's how your insufferable husbands are such charming fellows for the
world! Don't you agree with me?”
A very chilling smile, that might mean anything, was all her reply.
“I was there all the time,” continued he, with unabated fluency. “I
saw everything that went on: Sewell's policy was what our people call
non-intervention; he saw nothing, heard nothing, believed nothing; and
I will say there 's a great deal of dignity in that line; and when your
servant comes to wake you in the morning, with the tidings that your
wife has run away, you have established a right before the world to be
distracted, injured, overwhelmed, and outraged to any extent you may
feel disposed to appear.”
“Your thoughts upon morals are, I must say, very edifying, sir.”
“They 're always practical, so much I will say. This world is a
composite sort of thing, with such currents of mixed motives running
through it, if a man tries to be logical he is sure to make an ass of
himself, and one learns at last to become as flexible in his opinions
and as elastic as the great British constitution.
“I am delighted with your liberality, sir, and charmed with your candor;
and as you have expressed your opinion so freely upon my husband and my
son, would it appear too great a favor if I were to ask what you would
say of myself?”
“That you are charming, Lady Lendrick,--positively charming,”
replied he, rapturously. “That there is not a grace of manner, nor
a captivation, of which you are not mistress; that you possess that
attraction which excels all others in its influence; you render all who
come within the sphere of your fascination so much your slaves that the
cold grow enthusiastic, the distrustful become credulous, and even
the cautious reserve of office gives way, and the well-trained private
secretary of a Viceroy betrays himself into indiscretions that would
half ruin an aide-de-camp.”
“I assure you, sir, I never so much as suspected my own powers.”
“True as I am here; the simple fact is, I have come to say so.”
“You have come to say so! What do you mean?”
With this he proceeded to explain that her Excellency had deputed him
to invite Lady Lendrick to join the picnic on the island. “It was
so completely a home party, that, except himself and a few of the
household, none had even heard of it. None but those really intimate
will be there,” said he; “and for once in our lives we shall be able
to discuss our absent friends with that charming candor that gives
conversation its salt. When we had written down all the names, it was
her Excellency said, 'I 'd call this perfect if I could add one more to
the list.' 'I'll swear I know whom you mean,' said his Excellency; and
he took his pencil and wrote a line on a card. 'Am I right?' asked he.
She nodded, and said, 'Balfour, go and ask her to come. Be sure you
explain what the whole thing is, how it was got up, and that it must not
be talked of.' Of course, do what one will, these things do get about.
Servants will talk of them, and tradespeople talk of them, and we must
expect a fair share of ill-nature and malice from that outer world which
was not included in the civility; but it can't be helped. I believe it's
one of the conditions of humanity, that to make one man happy you may
always calculate on making ten others miserable.”
This time Lady Lendrick had something else to think of besides Mr.
Balfour's ethics, and so she only smiled and said nothing.
“I hope I 'm to bring back a favorable answer,” said he, rising to take
leave. “Won't you let me say that we 're to call for you?”
“I really am much flattered. I don't know how to express my grateful
sense of their Excellencies' recollection of me. It is for Wednesday,
you say?”
“Yes, Wednesday. We mean to leave town by two o'clock, and there will be
a carriage here for you by that hour. Will that suit you?”
“Perfectly.”
“I am overjoyed at my success. Good-bye till Wednesday, then.” He moved
towards the door, and then stopped. “What was it? I surely had something
else to say. Oh, to be sure, I remember. Tell me, if you can, what are
Sir William's views about retirement: he is not quite pleased with us
just now, and we can't well approach him; but we really would wish to
meet his wishes, if we could manage to come at them.” All this he said
in a sort of careless, easy way, as though it were a matter of little
moment, or one calling for very slight exercise of skill to set right.
“And do you imagine he has taken me into his confidence, Mr. Balfour?”
asked she, with a smile.
“Not formally, perhaps,--not what we call officially; but he may have
done so in that more effective way termed 'officiously.'”
“Not even that. I could probably make as good a guess about your own
future intentions as those of the Chief Baron.”
“You have heard him talk of them?”
“Scores of times.”
“And in what tone,--with what drift?”
“Always as that of one very ill-used, hardly treated, undervalued, and
the like.”
“And the remedy? What was the remedy?”
“To make him a peer,--at least, so his friends say.”
“But taking that to be impossible, what next?”
“He becomes 'impossible' also,” said she, laughing.
“Are we to imagine that a man of such intelligence as he possesses
cannot concede something to circumstances,--cannot make allowances for
the exigencies of 'party,'--cannot, in fact, take any other view of a
difficulty but the one that must respond to his own will?”
“Yes; I think that is exactly what you are called on to imagine. You
are to persuade yourself to regard this earth as inhabited by the Chief
Baron, and some other people not mentioned specifically in the census.”
“He is most unreasonable, then.”
“Of course he is; but I wouldn't have you tell him so. You see, Mr.
Balfour, the Chief imagines all this while that he is maintaining and
upholding the privileges of the Irish Bar. The burden of his song is,
'There would have been no objection to my claim had I been the Chief
Baron of the English Court.'”
“Possibly,” murmured Balfour; and then, lower again, “Fleas are not--”
“Quite true,” said she, for her quick ear caught his words,--“quite
true. Fleas are not lobsters,--bless their souls! But, as I said before,
I 'd not remind them of that fact. 'The Fleas' are just sore enough upon
it already.”
Balfour for once felt some confusion. He saw what a slip he had made,
and now it had damaged his whole negotiation. Nothing but boldness would
avail now, and he resolved to be bold.
“There is a thing has been done in England, and I don't see why we might
not attempt it in the present case. A great lawyer there obtained a
peerage for his wife--”
She burst out into a fit of laughter at this, at once so hearty and so
natural that at last he could not help joining, and laughing too.
“I must say, Mr. Balfour,” said she, as soon as she could speak,--“I
must say there is ingenuity in your suggestion. The relations that
subsist between Sir William and myself are precisely such as to
recommend your project.”
“I am not so sure that they are obstacles to it. I have always heard
that he had a poor opinion of his son, who was a common-place sort of
man that studied medicine. It could be no part of the Chief Baron's plan
to make such a person the head of a house. Now, he likes Sewell, and he
dotes on that boy,--the little fellow I saw at the Priory. These are all
elements in the scheme. Don't you think so?”
“Let me ask you one question before I answer yours: Does this thought
come from yourself alone, or has it any origin in another quarter?”
“Am I to be candid?”
“You are.”
“And are _you_ to be confidential?”
“Certainly.”
“In that case,” said he, drawing a long breath, as though about to
remove a perilous weight off his mind, “I will tell you frankly, it
comes from authority. Now, don't ask me more,--not another question. I
have already avowed what my instructions most imperatively forbid me
to own,--what, in fact, would be ruin to me if it were known that I
revealed. What his Excellency--I mean, what the other person said
was, 'Ascertain Lady Lendrick's wishes on this subject; learn, if you
can,--but, above all, without compromising yourself,--whether she really
cares for a step in rank; find out, if so, what aid she can or will lend
us.' But what am I saying? Here am I entering upon the whole detail?
What would become of me if I did not know I might rely upon you?”
“It's worth thinking over,” said she, after a pause.
“I should think it is. It is not every day of our lives such a brilliant
offer presents itself. All I ask, all I stipulate for, is that you make
no confidences, ask no advice from any quarter. Think it well over in
your own mind, but impart it to none, least of all to Sewell.”
“Of course not to _him_,” said she, resolutely, for she knew well to
what purposes he would apply the knowledge.
“Remember that we want to have the resignation before Parliament
meets,--bear that in mind. Time is all-important with us; the rest will
follow in due course.” With this he said “Good-bye,” and was gone.
“The rest will follow in due course,” said she to herself, repeating his
last words as he went. “With your good leave, Mr. Balfour, the 'rest'
shall precede the beginning.”
Was n't it Bolingbroke that said constitutional government never could
go on without lying,--audacious lying too? If the old Judge will only
consent to go, her Ladyship's peerage will admit of a compromise. Such
was Mr. Balfour's meditation as he stepped into his cab.