Venetia - Benjamin Disraeli (books to read as a couple TXT) 📗

apparently a capital dinner. I was sorry that I could not play my part; but I have led rather a raking life lately. We must go and dine with him again.'

Lord Cadurcis' neighbour and Mr. Pole exchanged looks; and the lady, emboldened by the unexpected conduct of her cavalier and the exceeding good friends which he seemed resolved to be with her and every one else, began to flatter herself that she might yet obtain the much-desired inscription in her volume. So, after making the usual approaches, of having a great favour to request, which, however, she could not flatter herself would be granted, and which she even was afraid to mention; encouraged by the ready declaration of Lord Cadurcis, that he should think it would be quite impossible for any one to deny her anything, the lady ventured to state, that Mr. Fox had written something in her book, and she should be the most honoured and happiest lady in the land if--'

'Oh! I shall be most happy,' said Lord Cadurcis; 'I really esteem your request quite an honour: you know I am only a literary amateur, and cannot pretend to vie with your real authors. If you want them, you must go to Mrs. Montagu. I would not write a line for her, and no the blues have quite excommunicated me. Never mind; I leave them to Miss Hannah More; but you, you are quite a different sort of person. What shall I write?'

'I must leave the subject to you,' said his gratified friend.

'Well, then,' said his lordship, 'I dare say you have got a lapdog or a broken fan; I don't think I could soar above them. I think that is about my tether.'

This lady, though a great person, was not a beauty, and very little of a wit, and not calculated in any respect to excite the jealousy of Lady Monteagle. In the meantime that lady was quite delighted with the unusual animation of Lord Cadurcis, who was much the most entertaining member of the party. Every one present would circulate throughout the world that it was only at the Monteagle's that Lord Cadurcis condescended to be amusing. As the Bishop was seated on her right hand, Lady Monteagle seized the opportunity of making inquiries as to their acquaintance; but she only obtained from the good Masham that he had once resided in his lordship's neighbourhood, and had known him as a child, and was greatly attached to him. Her ladyship was anxious to obtain some juvenile anecdotes of her hero; but the Bishop contrived to be amusing without degenerating into gossip. She did not glean much, except that all his early friends were more astonished at his present career than the Bishop himself, who was about to add, that he always had some misgivings, but, recollecting where he was, he converted the word into a more gracious term. But if Lady Monteagle were not so successful as she could wish in her inquiries, she contrived still to speak on the, to her, ever-interesting subject, and consoled herself by the communications which she poured into a guarded yet not unwilling ear, respecting the present life and conduct of the Bishop's former pupil. The worthy dignitary had been prepared by public fame for much that was dazzling and eccentric; but it must be confessed he was not a little astonished by a great deal to which he listened. One thing, however, was clear that whatever might be the demeanour of Cadurcis to the circle in which he now moved, time, and the strange revolutions of his life, had not affected his carriage to his old friend. It gratified the Bishop while he listened to Lady Monteagle's details of the haughty, reserved, and melancholy demeanour of Cadurcis, which impressed every one with an idea that some superior being had, as a punishment, been obliged to visit their humble globe, to recall the apparently heartfelt cordiality with which he had resumed his old acquaintance with the former rector of Marringhurst.

And indeed, to speak truth, the amiable and unpretending behaviour of Cadurcis this day was entirely attributable to the unexpected meeting with this old friend. In the hurry of society he could scarcely dwell upon the associations which it was calculated to call up; yet more than once he found himself quite absent, dwelling on sweet recollections of that Cherbury that he had so loved. And ever and anon the tones of a familiar voice caught his ear, so that they almost made him start: they were not the less striking, because, as Masham was seated on the same side of the table as Cadurcis, his eye had not become habituated to the Bishop's presence, which sometimes he almost doubted.

He seized the first opportunity after dinner of engaging his old tutor in conversation. He took him affectionately by the arm, and led him, as if unintentionally, to a sofa apart from the rest of the company, and seated himself by his side. Cadurcis was agitated, for he was about to inquire of some whom he could not mention without emotion.

'Is it long since you have seen our friends?' said his lordship, 'if indeed I may call them mine.'

'Lady Annabel Herbert?' said the Bishop.

Cadurcis bowed.

'I parted from her about two months back,' continued the Bishop.

'And Cherbury, dear Cherbury, is it unchanged?'

'They have not resided there for more than two years.'

'Indeed!'

'They have lived, of late, at Weymouth, for the benefit of the sea air.'

'I hope neither Lady Annabel nor her daughter needs it?' said Lord Cadurcis, in a tone of much feeling.

'Neither now, God be praised!' replied Masham; 'but Miss Herbert has been a great invalid.'

There was a rather awkward silence. At length Lord Cadurcis said, 'We meet rather unexpectedly, my dear sir.'

'Why, you have become a great man,' said the Bishop, with a smile; 'and one must expect to meet you.'

'Ah! my dear friend,' exclaimed Lord Cadurcis, with a sigh, 'I would willingly give a whole existence of a life like this for one year of happiness at Cherbury.'

'Nay!' said the Bishop, with a look of good-natured mockery, 'this melancholy is all very well in poetry; but I always half-suspected, and I am quite sure now, that Cherbury was not particularly adapted to you.'

'You mistake me,' said Cadurcis, mournfully shaking his head.

'Hitherto I have not been so very wrong in my judgment respecting Lord Cadurcis, that I am inclined very easily to give up my opinion,' replied the Bishop.

'I have often thought of the conversation to which you allude,' replied Lord Cadurcis; 'nevertheless, there is one opinion I never changed, one sentiment that still reigns paramount in my heart.'

'You think so,' said his companion; but, perhaps, were it more than a sentiment, it would cease to flourish.'

'No,' said Lord Cadurcis firmly; 'the only circumstance in the world of which I venture to feel certain is my love for Venetia.'

'It raged certainly during your last visit to Cherbury,' said the Bishop, 'after an interval of five years; it has been revived slightly to-day, after an interval of three more, by the sight of a mutual acquaintance, who has reminded you of her. But what have been your feelings in the meantime? Confess the truth, and admit you have very rarely spared a thought to the person to whom you fancy yourself at this moment so passionately devoted.'

'You do not do me justice,' said Lord Cadurcis; 'you are prejudiced against me.'

'Nay! prejudice is not my humour, my good lord. I decide only from what I myself observe; I give my opinion to you at this moment as freely as I did when you last conversed with me at the abbey, and when I a little displeased you by speaking what you will acknowledge has since turned out to be the truth.'

'You mean, then, to say,' said his lordship, with some excitement, 'that you do not believe that I love Venetia?'

'I think you do, at this moment,' replied Masham; 'and I think,' he continued, smiling, 'that you may probably continue very much in love with her, even during the rest of the week.'

'You mock me!'

'Nay! I am sincerely serious.'

'What, then, do you mean?'

'I mean that your imagination, my lord, dwelling for the moment with great power upon the idea of Venetia, becomes inflamed, and your whole mind is filled with her image.'

'A metaphysical description of being in love,' said Lord Cadurcis, rather dryly.

'Nay!' said Masham, 'I think the heart has something to do with that.'

'But the imagination acts upon the heart,' rejoined his companion.

'But it is in the nature of its influence not to endure. At this moment, I repeat, your lordship may perhaps love Miss Herbert; you may go home and muse over her memory, and even deplore in passionate verses your misery in being separated from her; but, in the course of a few days, she will be again forgotten.'

'But were she mine?' urged Lord Cadurcis, eagerly.

'Why, you would probably part from her in a year, as her father parted from Lady Annabel.'

'Impossible! for my imagination could not conceive anything more exquisite than she is.'

'Then it would conceive something less exquisite,' said the Bishop. 'It is a restless quality, and is ever creative, either of good or of evil.'

'Ah! my dear Doctor, excuse me for again calling you Doctor, it is so natural,' said Cadurcis, in a tone of affection.

'Call me what you will, my dear lord,' said the good Bishop, whose heart was moved; 'I can never forget old days.'

'Believe me, then,' continued Cadurcis, 'that you misjudge me in respect of Venetia. I feel assured that, had we married three years ago, I should have been a much happier man.'

'Why, you have everything to make you happy,' said the Bishop; 'if you are not happy, who should be? You are young, and you are famous: all that is now wanted is to be wise.'

Lord Cadurcis shrugged his shoulders. I am tired of this life,' he said; 'I am wearied of the same hollow bustle, and the same false glitter day after day. Ah! my dear friend, when I remember the happy hours when I used to roam through the woods of Cherbury with Venetia, and ramble in that delicious park, both young, both innocent, lit by the sunset and guided by the stars; and then remember that it has all ended in this, and that this is success, glory, fame, or whatever be the proper title to baptize the bubble, the burthen of existence is too great for me.'

'Hush, hush!' said his friend, rising from the sofa; 'you will be happy if you be wise.'

'But what is wisdom?' said Lord Cadurcis.

'One quality of it, in your situation, my lord, is to keep your head as calm as you can. Now, I must bid you good night.'

The Bishop disappeared, and Lord Cadurcis was immediately surrounded by several fine ladies, who were encouraged by the flattering bulletin that his neighbour at dinner, who was among them, had given of his lordship's temper. They were rather disappointed to find him sullen, sarcastic, and even morose. As for going to Ranelagh, he declared that, if he had the power of awarding the punishment of his bitterest enemy, it would be to consign him for an hour to the barbarous infliction of a promenade in that temple of ennui; and as for the owner of the album, who, anxious about her verses,