"Give it way? What do you mean? Would you have me tell humbugs that I
know them as such?,--and liars that I discern their lies? My dear
fellow, society would become too hot to hold me!"
"It could not be hotter--or colder--than hell, if you believed in hell,
which you do not,"--he rejoined, in the same quiet voice--"But I did not
assume that you should say these things straight out and bluntly, to
give offence. An affronting candour is not nobleness,--it is merely
coarse. To act nobly is better than to speak."
"And what would you have me do?" I asked curiously.
He was silent for a moment, and seemed to be earnestly, almost painfully
considering,--then he answered,--
"My advice will seem to you singular, Geoffrey,--but if you want it,
here it is. Give, as I said, the noble, and what the world would call
the quixotic part of your nature full way,--do not sacrifice your higher
sense of what is right and just for the sake of pandering to anyone's
power or influence,--and--say farewell to _me_! I am no use to you, save
to humour your varying fancies, and introduce you to those great,--or
small,--personages you wish to know for your own convenience or
advantage,--believe me, it would be much better for you and much more
consoling at the inevitable hour of death, if you were to let all this
false and frivolous nonsense go, and me with it! Leave society to its
own fool's whirligig of distracted follies,--put Royalty in its true
place, and show it that all its pomp, arrogance and glitter are
worthless, and itself a nothing, compared to the upright standing of a
brave soul in an honest man,--and, as Christ said to the rich
ruler--'Sell half that thou hast and give to the poor.'"
I was silent for a minute or so out of sheer surprise, while he watched
me earnestly, his face pale and expectant. A curious shock of something
like compunction startled my conscience, and for a brief space I was
moved to a vague regret,--regret that with all the enormous capability I
possessed of doing good to numbers of my fellow-creatures with the vast
wealth I owned, I had not attained to any higher moral attitude than
that represented by the frivolous folk who make up what is called the
'Upper Ten' of society. I took the same egotistical pleasure in myself
and my own doings as any of them,--and I was to the full as foolishly
conventional, smooth-tongued and hypocritical as they. They acted their
part and I acted mine,--none of us were ever our real selves for a
moment. In very truth, one of the reasons why 'fashionable' men and
women cannot bear to be alone is, that a solitude in which they are
compelled to look face to face upon their secret selves becomes
unbearable because of the burden they carry of concealed vice and
accusing shame. My emotion soon passed however, and slipping my arm
through Lucio's, I smiled, as I answered--
"Your advice, my dear fellow, would do credit to a Salvationist
preacher,--but it is quite valueless to me, because impossible to
follow. To say farewell for ever to you, in the first place, would be to
make myself guilty of the blackest ingratitude,--in the second instance,
society, with all its ridiculous humbug, is nevertheless necessary for
the amusement of myself and my future wife,--Royalty moreover, is
accustomed to be flattered, and we shall not be hurt by joining in the
general inane chorus;--thirdly, if I did as the visionary Jew
suggested----"
"What visionary Jew?" he asked, his eyes sparkling coldly.
"Why, Christ of course!" I rejoined lightly.
The shadow of a strange smile parted his lips.
"It is the fashion to blaspheme!" he said,--"A mark of brilliancy in
literature, and wit in society! I forgot! Pray go on,--if you did as
Christ suggested----"
"Yes,--if I gave half my goods to the poor, I should not be thanked for
it, or considered anything but a fool for my pains."
"You would wish to be thanked?" he said.
"Naturally! Most people like a little gratitude in return for benefits."
"They do. And the Creator, who is always giving, is supposed to like
gratitude also,"--he observed--"Nevertheless He seldom gets it!"
"I do not talk of hyperphysical nothingness,"--I said with
impatience--"I am speaking of the plain facts of this world and the
people who live in it. If one gives largely, one expects to be
acknowledged as generous,--but if I were to divide my fortune, and hand
half of it to the poor, the matter would be chronicled in about six
lines in one of the papers, and society would exclaim 'What a fool!'"
"Then let us talk no more about it,"--said Lucio, his brows clearing,
and his eyes gathering again their wonted light of mockery and
mirth--"Having won the Derby, you have really done all a
nineteenth-century civilization expects you to do, and for your reward,
you will be in universal demand everywhere. You may hope soon to dine at
Marlborough House,--and a little back-stair influence and political
jobbery will work you into the Cabinet if you care for it. Did I not
tell you I would set you up as successfully as the bear who has reached
the bun on the top of the slippery pole, a spectacle for the envy of men
and the wonder of angels? Well, there you are!--triumphant!--a great
creature Geoffrey!--in fact, you are the greatest product of the age, a
man with five millions and owner of the Derby-winner! What is the glory
of intellect compared to such a position as yours! Men envy you,--and as
for angels,--if there are any,--you may be sure they _do_ wonder! A
man's fame guaranteed by a horse, is something indeed to make an angel
stare!"
He laughed uproariously, and from that day he never spoke again of his
singular proposition that I should 'part with him,' and let the "nobler"
nature in me have its way. I was not to know then that he had staked a
chance upon my soul and lost it,--and that from henceforward he took a
determined course with me, implacably on to the appalling end.
My marriage took place on the appointed day in June with all the pomp
and extravagant show befitting my position, and that of the woman I had
chosen to wed. It is needless to describe the gorgeousness of the
ceremony in detail,--any fashionable 'ladies paper' describing the
wedding of an Earl's daughter to a five-fold millionaire, will give an
idea, in hysterical rhapsody, of the general effect. It was an amazing
scene,--and one in which costly millinery completely vanquished all
considerations of solemnity or sacredness in the supposed 'divine'
ordinance. The impressive command: "I require and charge ye both, as ye
will answer at the dreadful day of judgment,"--did not obtain half so
much awed attention as the exquisite knots of pearls and diamonds which
fastened the bride's silver-embroidered train to her shoulders. 'All the
world and his wife' were present,--that is, the social world, which
imagines no other world exists, though it is the least part of the
community. The Prince of Wales honoured us by his presence: two great
dignitaries of the church performed the marriage-rite, resplendent in
redundant fulness of white sleeve and surplice, and equally imposing in
the fatness of their bodies and unctuous redness of their faces; and
Lucio was my 'best man.' He was in high, almost wild spirits,--and,
during our drive to the church together, had entertained me all the way
with numerous droll stories, mostly at the expense of the clergy. When
we reached the sacred edifice, he said laughingly as he alighted--
"Did you ever hear it reported, Geoffrey, that the devil is unable to
enter a church, because of the cross upon it, or within it?"
"I have heard some such nonsense,"--I replied, smiling at the humour
expressed in his sparkling eyes and eloquent features.
"It _is_ nonsense,--for the makers of the legend forgot one thing;" he
continued, dropping his voice to a whisper as we passed under the
carved gothic portico--"The cross may be present,----but----so is the
clergyman! And wherever a clergyman is, the devil may surely follow!"
I almost laughed aloud at his manner of making this irreverent
observation, and the look with which he accompanied it. The rich tones
of the organ creeping softly on the flower-scented silence however,
quickly solemnized my mood,--and while I leaned against the altar-rails
waiting for my bride, I caught myself wondering for the hundredth time
or more, at my comrade's singularly proud and kingly aspect, as with
folded arms and lifted head, he contemplated the lily-decked altar and
the gleaming crucifix upon it, his meditative eyes bespeaking a curious
mingling of reverence and contempt.
One incident I remember, as standing out particularly in all the glare
and glitter of the brilliant scene, and this occurred at the signing of
our names in the register. When Sibyl, a vision of angelic loveliness in
all her bridal white, affixed her signature to the entry, Lucio bent
towards her,--
"As 'best man' I claim an old-fashioned privilege!" he said, and kissed
her lightly on the cheek. She blushed a vivid red,--then suddenly grew
ghastly pale,--and with a kind of choking cry, reeled back in a dead
faint in the arms of one of her bridesmaids. It was some minutes before
she was restored to consciousness,--but she made light both of my alarm
and the consternation of her friends,--and assuring us that it was
nothing but the effect of the heat of the weather and the excitement of
the day, she took my arm and walked down the aisle smilingly, through
the brilliant ranks of her staring and envious 'society' friends, all of
whom coveted her good fortune, not because she had married a worthy or
gifted man,--that would have been no special matter for
congratulation,--but simply because she had married five millions of
money! I was the appendage to the millions--nothing further. She held
her head high and haughtily, though I felt her tremble as the thundering
strains of the 'Bridal March' from Lohengrin poured sonorous triumph on
the air. She trod on roses all the way,--I remembered that too, ...
afterwards! Her satin slipper crushed the hearts of a thousand innocent
things that must surely have been more dear to God than she;--the little
harmless souls of flowers, whose task in life, sweetly fulfilled, had
been to create beauty and fragrance by their mere existence, expired to
gratify the vanity of one woman to whom nothing was sacred. But I
anticipate,--I was yet in my fool's dream,--and imagined that the dying
blossoms were happy to perish thus beneath her tread!
A grand reception was held at Lord Elton's house after the
ceremony,--and in the midst of the chattering, the eating and the
drinking, we,--my newly made wife and I,--departed amid the profuse
flatteries and good wishes of our 'friends' who, primed with the very
finest champagne, made a very decent show of being sincere. The last
person to say farewell to us at the carriage-door was Lucio,--and the
sorrow I felt at parting with him was more than I could express in words.
From the very hour of the dawning of my good fortune we had been almost
inseparable companions,--I owed my success in society,--everything, even
my bride herself,--to his management and tact,--and though I had now won
for my life's partner the most beautiful of women, I could not
contemplate even the temporary breaking of the association between myself
and my gifted and brilliant comrade, without a keen pang of personal pain
amid my nuptial joys. Leaning his arms on the carriage-window, he looked
in upon us both, smiling.
"My spirit will be with you both in all your journeyings!" he said--"And
when you return, I shall be one of the first to bid you welcome home.
Your house-party is fixed for September, I believe?"
"Yes,--and you will be the most eagerly desired guest of all invited!" I
replied heartily, pressing his hand.
"Fie, for shame!" he retorted laughingly--"Be not so disloyal of speech,
Geoffrey! Are you not going to entertain the Prince of Wales?--and
shall anyone be more 'eagerly-desired' than he? No,--I must play a
humble third or even fourth on your list where Royalty is
concerned,--_my_ princedom is alas! not that of Wales,--and the throne I
might claim (if I had anyone to help me, which I have not) is a long way
removed from that of England!"
Sibyl said nothing,--but her eyes rested on his handsome face and fine
figure with an odd wonder and wistfulness, and she was very pale.
"Good-bye Lady Sibyl!" he added gently--"All joy be with you! To us who
are left behind, your absence will seem long,--but to _you_,--ah!--Love
gives wings to time, and what would be to ordinary folks a month of mere
dull living, will be for you nothing but a moment's rapture! Love is
better than wealth,--you have found that out already I know!--but I
think--and hope--that you are destined to make the knowledge more
certain and complete! Think of me sometimes! Au revoir!"
The horses started,--a handful of rice flung by the society idiot who is
always at weddings, rattled against the door and on the roof of the
brougham, and Lucio stepped back, waving his hand. To the last we saw
him,--a tall stately figure on the steps of Lord Elton's
mansion,--surrounded by an ultra-fashionable throng, ... bridesmaids in
bright attire and picture-hats,--young girls all eager and
excited-looking, each of them no doubt longing fervently for the day to
come when they might severally manage to secure as rich a husband as
myself, ... match-making mothers and wicked old dowagers, exhibiting
priceless lace on their capacious bosoms, and ablaze with diamonds, ...
men with white button-hole bouquets in their irreproachably fitting
frock-coats,--servants in gay liveries, and the usual street-crowd of
idle sight-seers;--all this cluster of faces, costumes and flowers, was
piled against the grey background of the stone portico,--and in the
midst, the dark beauty of Lucio's face and the luminance of his flashing
eyes made him the conspicuous object and chief centre of attraction, ...
then, ... the carriage turned a sharp corner,--the faces vanished,--and
Sibyl and I realised that from henceforward we were left alone,--alone
to face the future and ourselves,--and to learn the lesson of love ...
or hate ... for evermore together!