CHAPTER XXIV
Mr. G. really was what is commonly called a great man. To the advantages of being a Secretary of State and Leader of the House of Commons, he joined those of being a brilliant orator and a very agreeable member of society. He had offered himself as a visitor at St. Mary's, which lay within reach of the large commercial town which he represented, and in which Lord Teviot possessed considerable property. There was to be a public meeting, and the opening of a new bridge, and a launch of a large ship, and much good eating, and still better speaking, at which Mr. G. and Lord Teviot were to assist.
Mr. G. had been a youthful friend of the late Lord Teviot's, and the kindness which he received from the father he now repaid to the son. He had a high opinion of Lord Teviot's talents, founded more on the intimate knowledge he had attained in private life of the acuteness and straightforwardness of his mind, than on the two or three successful speeches he had made in the House of Lords; and Mr. G. was anxious to remove, by the stir of official life, the shadow that Lord Teviot's shyness or sensitiveness threw over his higher qualities.
"Come, Teviot," said Lord Beaufort at breakfast, "I'll bet you what you like that you are in office before this day three months."
"What am I to be? a clerk in the Foreign Office? I do not see any other opening."
"Oh, they will make an opening fast enough, if you will go in at it. They can shove off old Lisle to India, or make out an embassy for Chaffont. You will be in, somehow, before Christmas."
"Not before Christmas, if at all. Nobody has time to be turned out during the holidays."
"How ver droll!" exclaimed La Grange; "but it is a truth of the most striking. We in England are so occupied with the chase and the sport, and with the life of the castle in the winter, that we forget entirely our politique. I am ver much delight to think I will meet Mr. G. in the ease of the country. He is one hero of mine. Does he voyage alone, my lord?"
"Ah! who comes with him, Teviot?"
"Only his private secretary, the faithful Fisherwick."
"Fisherwick!" repeated Colonel Stuart; "Heavens and earth! I trust not."
"Why, what harm do you know of him, Colonel Stuart?" said Lady Teviot.
"The gods forfend that I should know anything more or anything worse of him than his extraordinary cognomen; but imagine travelling with one of that curious species. Think of being shut up alone in a carriage with a live Fisherwick! It makes my blood run cold."
"Fisherveke!" repeated La Grange. "It is a difficult word, but I do know oder of that name—at least, I know a Mrs. Fisher very well, who live at Hampton Veke; so I suppose she is one relation. She is made to be painted, and most charming. Does your ladyship know Mrs. Fisher?" addressing Lady Portmore.
"Oh dear no; never heard of her," said Lady Portmore, tartly. She began to think La Grange not worth a civil answer. "But, Teviot, to return to this idea of your coming into office. It is what I have always wished for you; and I shall insist on G.'s making some arrangement that will bring you in. I can promise you Lord Portmore's support; he has a very high opinion of G."
"Poor G.!" whispered Ernest to his cousin. "I hope she won't let that be generally known; it might give him a shake in public estimation."
"And then, Helen," continued Lady Portmore, "when Teviot is in office, you and I must set about being popular, for the good of our friends. We must keep open house for the supporters of government. I will send you my list, and with a little of my help, you may make Teviot House of real importance to our party."
"I am sure," said Helen, laughing, "I should be puzzled to say what my party is, for at this moment I am very ignorant of all political matters; but if Lord Teviot comes into office, I suppose I shall grow as eager as most people are."
"Would you like me to take office, dear?" said Lord Teviot, who was pleased with this avowal.
"Yes, I think so! and yet"
"Oh yes, to be sure you would," interrupted Lady Portmore; "everybody likes distinction; and you as well as the rest, Helen: and then you could be of use to all the Beauforts and Pelhams in creation, which would delight you."
"I need not begin to think of them yet. Lord Teviot is still unprovided for."
"No, Helen; and as you seem so well disposed for a political life, I am sorry to say that the whole thing is a vision of Lady Portmore's, and that G. has no more idea of giving me an office than I have of asking for one."
"I am thinking," said Lady Portmore, "if nothing else is available, which of the foreign embassies you could have?"
"Oh no! not an embassy," said Helen eagerly; "I could not bear to live abroad,—and to leave papa and mamma," she was about to add, but from some undefined feellng she stopped and said, "and to leave England and my own home."
"No, I think I might ask you in vain to do that," said Lord Teviot, coldly, for he rightly interpreted the meaning of the pause in her sentence. "I should not have a willing companion in my exile."
"Oh, you naughty girl!" said Lady Portmore, affectedly, "to hesitate about following your husband wherever he goes—to say nothing of such a husband! I am shocked at your hard-heartedness."
"I do not think Helen's hard-heartedness to be compared to yours. Lady Portmore," said Mary Forrester. "You have suddenly sent Lord and Lady Teviot out of the country, without the slightest warning. I have no doubt Lord Teviot would be just as sorry to leave his friends as Helen would be to leave hers. Of course I say nothing of such friends!" she added, laughing, as she looked round the table. "In common politeness, neither he nor Helen can say that they could quite console each other for the loss of us."
"Very true," said Ernest, who saw Lady Portmore's game; and "Very true," added Lord Beaufort, who was struck with Miss Forrester's energy and warmth; but at the sound of his voice in approval, the colour that came into Mary's cheek, and the slight curl of her lip, reminded him that he was not privileged to offer his opinion to her. Since the unlucky conversation in the library, not a word had passed between them, not even a look; she never seemed to see him. Once or twice it had nearly fallen to his lot to hand her in to dinner, but without any apparent premeditation, without a shadow of pique in her manner, she had contrived either to put Eliza forward, or by negligently continuing the conversation in which she might be engaged, to make it seem inevitable that Sir C. Smith, or Mr. Douglas, or Colonel Beaufort, should offer her an arm, and walk in before him. He did not quite like it; he would have preferred an open war, an attempt at explanation, or a tart retort—but she did not deign to show her dislike in words.