The Story Is Finished Within the Halls of the Duke of Omnium.
Mr. Grey and wife were duly carried away from Matching Priory by post
horses, and did their honeymoon, we may be quite sure, with much
satisfaction. When Alice was first asked where she would go, she
simply suggested that it should not be to Switzerland. They did, in
truth, go by slow stages to Italy, to Venice, Florence, and on to
Rome; but such had not been their intention when they first started
on their journey. At that time Mr. Grey believed that he would be
wanted again in England, down at Silverbridge in Barsetshire, very
shortly. But before he had married a week he learned that all that
was to be postponed. The cup of fruition had not yet reached Mr.
Palliser's lips. "There will be no vacancy either in the county or in
the borough till Parliament meets." That had been the message sent
by Mr. Palliser to Mr. Grey. Lady Glencora's message to Alice had been
rather more full, having occupied three pages of note paper, the
last of which had been crossed, but I do not know that it was more
explicit. She had abused Lord Brock, had abused Mr. Finespun, and had
abused all public things and institutions, because the arrangements
as now proposed would be very comfortable to Alice, but would not,
as she was pleased to think, be very comfortable to herself. "You
can go to Rome and see everything and enjoy yourself, which I was
not allowed to do; and all this noise and bother, and crowd of
electioneering, will take place down in Barsetshire just when I am in
the middle of all my trouble." There were many very long letters came
from Lady Glencora to Rome during the winter,--letters which Alice
enjoyed thoroughly, but which she could not but regard as being very
indiscreet. The Duke was at the Castle during the Christmas week, and
the descriptions of the Duke and of his solicitude as to his heir
were very comic. "He comes and bends over me on the sofa in the most
stupendous way, as though a woman to be the mother of his heir must
be a miracle in nature. He is quite awful when he says a word or two,
and more awful in his silence. The devil prompted me the other day,
and I said I hoped it would be a girl. There was a look came over his
face which nearly frightened me. If it should be, I believe he will
turn me out of the house; but how can I help it? I wish you were
going to have a baby at the same time. Then, if yours was a boy and
mine a girl, we'd make a change." This was very indiscreet. Lady
Glencora would write indiscreet letters like this, which Alice could
not show to her husband. It was a thousand pities.
But December and January wore themselves away, and the time came in
which the Greys were bound to return to England. The husband had
very fully discussed with his wife that matter of his parliamentary
ambition, and found in her a very ready listener. Having made up
his mind to do this thing, he was resolved to do it thoroughly, and
was becoming almost as full of politics, almost as much devoted to
sugar, as Mr. Palliser himself. He at any rate could not complain that
his wife would not interest herself in his pursuits. Then, as they
returned, came letters from Lady Glencora, written as her troubles
grew nigh. The Duke had gone, of course; but he was to be there at
the appointed time. "Oh, I do so wish he would have a fit of the gout
in London,--or at Timbuctoo," said Lady Glencora. When they reached
London they first heard the news from Mr. Vavasor, who on this
occasion condescended to meet them at the railway. "The Duke has got
an heir," he said, before the carriage-door was open;--"born this
morning!" One might have supposed that it was the Duke's baby, and
not the baby of Lady Glencora and Mr. Palliser. There was a note from
Mr. Palliser to Mr. Grey. "Thank God!" said the note, "Lady Glencora
and the boy"--Mr. Palliser had scorned to use the word child--"Lady
Glencora and the boy are quite as well as can be expected. Both the
new writs were moved for last night." Mr. Palliser's honours, as will
be seen, came rushing upon him all at once.
Wondrous little baby,--_purpureo genitus!_ What have the gods not
done for thee, if thou canst only manage to live till thy good things
are all thine own,--to live through all the terrible solicitude with
which they will envelope thee! Better than royal rank will be thine,
with influence more than royal, and power of action fettered by no
royalty. Royal wealth which will be really thine own, to do with it
as it beseemeth thee. Thou wilt be at the top of an aristocracy in a
country where aristocrats need gird themselves with no buckram. All
that the world can give will be thine; and yet when we talk of thee
religiously, philosophically, or politico-economically, we are wont
to declare that thy chances of happiness are no better,--no better,
if they be no worse,--than are those of thine infant neighbour just
born, in that farmyard cradle. Who shall say that they are better or
that they are worse? Or if they be better, or if they be worse, how
shall we reconcile to ourselves that seeming injustice?
And now we will pay a little visit to the small one born in the
purple, and the story of that visit shall be the end of our history.
It was early in April, quite early in April, and Mr. and Mrs. Grey were
both at Gatherum Castle. Mrs. Grey was there at the moment of which
we write, but Mr. Grey was absent at Silverbridge with Mr. Palliser.
This was the day of the Silverbridge election, and Mr. Grey had gone
to that ancient borough, to offer himself as a candidate to the
electors, backed by the presence and aid of a very powerful member of
the Cabinet. Lady Glencora and Alice were sitting up-stairs with the
small, purple-born one in their presence, and the small, purple-born
one was lying in Alice's lap.
"It is such a comfort that it is over," said the mother.
"You are the most ungrateful of women."
"Oh, Alice,--if you could have known! Your baby may come just as it
pleases. You won't lie awake trembling how on earth you will bear
your disgrace if one of the vile weaker sex should come to disturb
the hopes of your lords and masters;--for I had two, which made it so
much more terrible."
"I'm sure Mr. Palliser would not have said a word."
"No, he would have said nothing,--nor would the Duke. The Duke would
simply have gone away instantly, and never have seen me again till
the next chance comes,--if it ever does come. And Mr. Palliser would
have been as gentle as a dove;--much more gentle than he is now, for
men are rarely gentle in their triumph. But I should have known what
they both thought and felt."
"It's all right now, dear."
"Yes, my bonny boy,--you have made it all right for me;--have you
not?" And Lady Glencora took her baby into her own arms. "You have
made everything right, my little man. But oh, Alice, if you had seen
the Duke's long face through those three days; if you had heard the
tones of the people's voices as they whispered about me; if you
had encountered the oppressive cheerfulness of those two London
doctors,--doctors are such bad actors,--you would have thought it
impossible for any woman to live throughout. There's one comfort;--if
my mannikin lives, I can't have another eldest. He looks like
living;--don't he, Alice?" Then were perpetrated various mysterious
ceremonies of feminine idolatry which were continued till there came
a grandly dressed old lady, who called herself the nurse, and who
took the idol away.
[Illustration: "Yes, my bonny boy,--you have made it
all right for me."]
In the course of that afternoon Lady Glencora took Alice all over
the house. It was a castle of enormous size, quite new,--having been
built by the present proprietor,--very cold, very handsome, and very
dull. "What an immense place!" said Alice, as she stood looking round
her in the grand hall, which was never used as an entrance except on
very grand occasions. "Is it not? And it cost--oh, I can't tell you
how much it cost. A hundred thousand pounds or more. Well;--that
would be nothing, as the Duke no doubt had the money in his pocket
to do what he liked with at the time. But the joke is, nobody ever
thinks of living here. Who'd live in such a great, overgrown place
such as this, if they could get a comfortable house like Matching? Do
you remember Longroyston and the hot-water pipes? I always think of
the poor Duchess when I come through here. Nobody ever lives here, or
ever will. The Duke comes for one week in the year, and Plantagenet
says he hates to do that. As for me, nothing on earth shall ever make
me live here. I was completely in their power and couldn't help their
bringing me here the other day;--because I had, as it were, disgraced
myself."
"How disgraced yourself?"
"In being so long, you know, before that gentleman was born. But they
shan't play me the same trick again. I shall dare to assert myself,
now. Come,--we must go away. There are some of the British public
come to see one of the British sights. That's another pleasure here.
One has to run about to avoid being caught by the visitors. The
housekeeper tells me they always grumble because they are not allowed
to go into my little room up-stairs."
On the evening of that day Mr. Palliser and Mr. Grey returned home from
Silverbridge together. The latter was then a Member of Parliament,
but the former at that moment was the possessor of no such dignity.
The election for the borough was now over, whereas that for the
county had not yet taken place. But there was no rival candidate for
the position, and Mr. Palliser was thoroughly contented with his fate.
He was at this moment actually Chancellor of the Exchequer, and in
about ten days' time would be on his legs in the House proposing for
his country's use his scheme of finance. The two men were seated
together in an open carriage, and were being whirled along by four
horses. They were both no doubt happy in their ambition, but I think
that of the two, Mr. Palliser showed his triumph the most. Not that he
spoke even to his friend a word that was triumphant in its tone. It
was not thus that he rejoiced. He was by nature too placid for that.
But there was a nervousness in his contentment which told the tale to
any observer who might know how to read it.
"I hope you'll like it," he said to Grey.
"I shall never like it as you do," Grey answered.
"And why not;--why not?"
"In the first place, I have not begun it so young."
"Any time before thirty-five is young enough."
"For useful work, yes,--but hardly for enjoyment in the thing. And
then I don't believe it all as you do. To you the British House of
Commons is everything."
"Yes;--everything," said Mr. Palliser with unwonted
enthusiasm;--"everything, everything. That and the Constitution are
everything."
"It is not so to me."
"Ah, but it will be. If you really take to the work, and put yourself
into harness, it will be so. You'll get to feel it as I do. The man
who is counted by his colleagues as number one on the Treasury Bench
in the English House of Commons, is the first of living men. That's
my opinion. I don't know that I ever said it before; but that's my
opinion."
"And who is the second;--the purse-bearer to this great man?"
"I say nothing about the second. I don't know that there is any
second. I wonder how we shall find Lady Glencora and the boy." They
had then arrived at the side entrance to the Castle, and Mr. Grey ran
up-stairs to his wife's room to receive her congratulations.
"And you are a Member of Parliament?" she asked.
"They tell me so, but I don't know whether I actually am one till
I've taken the oaths."
"I am so happy. There's no position in the world so glorious!"
"It's a pity you are not Mr. Palliser's wife. That's just what he has
been saying."
"Oh, John, I am so happy. It is so much more than I have deserved. I
hope,--that is, I sometimes think--"
"Think what, dearest?"
"I hope nothing that I have ever said has driven you to it."
"I'd do more than that, dear, to make you happy," he said, as he put
his arm round her and kissed her; "more than that, at least if it
were in my power."
Probably my readers may agree with Alice, that in the final
adjustment of her affairs she had received more than she had
deserved. All her friends, except her husband, thought so. But as
they have all forgiven her, including even Lady Midlothian herself, I
hope that they who have followed her story to its close will not be
less generous.