Henrietta Temple: A Love Story

by Earl of Beaconsfield Benjamin Disraeli

  CHAPTER IX.

  _Which Is on the Whole Almost as Perplexing as the Preceding One_.

  WHEN Ferdinand found himself dining in St. James'-square, in the verysame room where he had passed so many gay hours during that boyish monthof glee which preceded his first joining his regiment, and then lookedopposite him and saw Henrietta Temple, it seemed to him that, by somemagical process or other, his life was acting over again, and the orderof the scenes and characters had, by some strange mismanagement, gotconfused. Yet he yielded himself up to the excitement which had sounexpectedly influenced him; he was inflamed by a species of wilddelight which he could not understand, nor stop to analyse; and when theduchess retired with the young ladies to their secret conclave in thedrawing-room, she said, 'I like Captain Armine very much; he is so fullof spirit and imagination. When we met him this morning, do you know,I thought him rather stiff and fine. I regretted the bright boyish flowthat I so well recollected, but I see I was mistaken.'

  'Ferdinand is much changed,' said Miss Grandison. 'He was once themost brilliant person, I think, that ever lived: almost too brilliant;everybody by him seemed so tame. But since his illness he has quitechanged. I have scarcely heard him speak or seen him smile these sixmonths. There is not in the whole world a person so wretchedly altered.He is quite a wreck. I do not know what is the matter with him to-day.He seemed once almost himself.'

  'He indulged his feelings too much, perhaps,' said Henrietta; 'he lived,perhaps, too much alone, after so severe an illness.'

  'Oh, no! it is not that,' said Miss Grandison, 'it is not exactlythat. Poor Ferdinand! he is to be pitied. I fear he will never be happyagain.'

  'Miss Grandison should hardly say that,' said the duchess, 'if reportspeaks truly.'

  Katherine was about to reply, but checked herself.

  Henrietta rose from her seat rather suddenly, and asked Katherine totouch the piano.

  The duchess took up the 'Morning Post.'

  'Poor Ferdinand! he used to sing once so beautifully, too!' saidKatherine to Miss Temple, in a hushed voice. 'He never sings now.'

  'You must make him,' said Henrietta.

  Miss Grandison shook her head.

  'You have influence with him; you should exert it,' said Henrietta.

  'I neither have, nor desire to have, influence with him,' said MissGrandison. 'Dearest Miss Temple, the world is in error with respect tomyself and my cousin; and yet I ought not to say to you what I have notthought proper to confess even to my aunt.'

  Henrietta leant over and kissed her forehead. 'Say what you like,dearest Miss Grandison; you speak to a friend, who loves you, and willrespect your secret.'

  The gentlemen at this moment entered the room, and interrupted thisinteresting conversation.

  'You must not quit the instrument, Miss Grandison,' said Lord Montfort,seating himself by her side. Ferdinand fell into conversation with theduchess; and Miss Temple was the amiable victim of his Grace's passionfor ecarte.

  'Captain Armine is a most agreeable person,' said Lord Montfort.

  Miss Grandison rather stared. 'We were just speaking of Ferdinand,' shereplied, 'and I was lamenting his sad change.'

  'Severe illness, illness so severe as his, must for the moment changeanyone; we shall soon see him himself again.'

  'Never,' said Miss Grandison mournfully.

  'You must inspire him,' said Lord Montfort. 'I perceive you have greatinfluence with him.'

  'I give Lord Montfort credit for much acuter perception than that,' saidMiss Grandison.

  Their eyes met: even Lord Montfort's dark vision shrank before thesearching glance of Miss Grandison. It conveyed to him that his purposewas not undiscovered.

  'But you can exert influence, if you please,' said Lord Montfort.

  'But it may not please me,' said Miss Grandison.

  At this moment Mr. Glastonbury was announced. He had a generalinvitation, and was frequently in the habit of paying an evening visitwhen the family were disengaged. When he found Ferdinand, Henrietta,and Katherine, all assembled together, and in so strange a garb, hisperplexity was wondrous. The tone of comparative ease, too, with whichMiss Temple addressed him, completed his confusion. He began to suspectthat some critical explanation had taken place. He looked around forinformation.

  'We have all been riding,' said Lord Montfort.

  'So I perceive,' said Glastonbury.

  'And as we were too late for dinner, took refuge here,' continued hislordship.

  'I observe it,' said Glastonbury.

  'Miss Grandison is an admirable musician, sir.'

  'She is an admirable lady in every respect,' said Glastonbury.

  'Perhaps you will join her in some canzonette; I am so stupid as not tobe able to sing. I wish I could induce Captain Armine.'

  'He has left off singing,' said Glastonbury, mournfully. 'But MissTemple?' added Glastonbury, bowing to that lady.

  'Miss Temple has left off singing, too,' said Lord Montfort, quietly.

  'Come, Mr. Glastonbury,' said the duchess, 'time was when you and I havesung together. Let us try to shame these young folks.' So saying,her Grace seated herself at the piano, and the gratified Glastonburysummoned all his energies to accompany her.

  Lord Montfort seated himself by Ferdinand. 'You have been severely ill,I am sorry to hear.'

  'Yes; I have been rather shaken.'

  'This spring will bring you round.'

  'So everyone tells me. I cannot say I feel its beneficial influence.'

  'You should,' said Lord Montfort. 'At our age we ought to rallyquickly.'

  'Yes! Time is the great physician. I cannot say I have much more faithin him than in the spring.'

  'Well, then, there is Hope; what think you of that?'

  'I have no great faith,' said Ferdinand, affecting to smile.

  'Believe, then, in optimism,' said Henrietta Temple, without taking hereyes off the cards. 'Whatever is, is best.'

  'That is not my creed, Miss Temple,' said Ferdinand, and he rose and wasabout to retire.

  'Must you go? Let us all do something to-morrow!' said Lord Montfort,interchanging a glance with Henrietta. 'The British Museum; MissGrandison wishes to go to the British Museum. Pray come with us.'

  'You are very good, but------'

  'Well! I will write you a little note in the morning and tell you ourplans,' said Lord Montfort. 'I hope you will not desert us.'

  Ferdinand bowed and retired: he avoided catching the eye of Henrietta.

  The carriages of Miss Temple and Miss Grandison were soon announced,and, fatigued with their riding-dresses, these ladies did not longremain.

  'To-day has been a day of trial,' said Henrietta, as she was about tobid Lord Montfort farewell. 'What do you think of affairs? I saw youspeaking to Katherine. What do you think?'

  'I think Ferdinand Armine is a formidable rival. Do you know, I amrather jealous?'

  'Digby! can you be ungenerous?'

  'My sweet Henrietta, pardon my levity. I spoke in the merestplayfulness. Nay,' he continued, for she seemed really hurt, 'say goodnight very sweetly.'

  'Is there any hope?' said Henrietta.

  'All's well that ends well,' said Lord Montfort, smiling; 'God blessyou.'

  Glastonbury was about to retire, when Lord Montfort returned and askedhim to come up to his lordship's own apartments, as he wished to showhim a curious antique carving.

  'You seemed rather surprised at the guests you found here to-night,'said Lord Montfort when they were alone.

  Glastonbury looked a little confused. 'It was certainly a curiousmeeting, all things considered,' continued Lord Montfort: 'Henrietta hasnever concealed anything of the past from me, but I have always wishedto spare her details. I told her this morning I should speak to you uponthe subject, and that is the reason why I have asked you here.'

  'It is a painful history,' said Glastonbury.

  'As painful to me as anyone,' said his lordship; 'nevertheless, it mustbe told. When did you first meet M
iss Temple?'

  'I shall never forget it,' said Glastonbury, sighing and moving veryuneasily in his chair. 'I took her for Miss Grandison.' And Glastonburynow entered into a complete history of everything that had occurred.

  'It is a strange, a wonderful story,' said Lord Montfort, 'and youcommunicated everything to Miss Grandison?'

  'Everything but the name of her rival. To that she would not listen. Itwas not just, she said, to one so unfortunate and so unhappy.'

  'She seems an admirable person, that Miss Grandison,' said LordMontfort.

  'She is indeed as near an angel as anything earthly can be,' saidGlastonbury.

  'Then it is still a secret to the parents?'

  'Thus she would have it,' said Glastonbury. 'She clings to them, wholove her indeed as a daughter; and she shrank from the desolation thatwas preparing for them.'

  'Poor girl!' said Lord Montfort, 'and poor Armine! By heavens, I pityhim from the bottom of my heart.'

  'If you had seen him as I have,' said Glastonbury, 'wilder than thewildest Bedlamite! It was an awful sight.'

  'Ah! the heart, the heart,' said Lord Montfort: 'it is a delicate organ,Mr. Glastonbury. And think you his father and mother suspect nothing?'

  'I know not what they think,' said Glastonbury, 'but they must soon knowall.' And he seemed to shudder at the thought.

  'Why must they?' asked Lord Montfort.

  Glastonbury stared.

  'Is there no hope of softening and subduing all their sorrows?' saidLord Montfort; 'cannot we again bring together these young and partedspirits?'

  'It is my only hope,' said Glastonbury, 'and yet I sometimes deem it aforlorn one.'

  'It is the sole desire of Henrietta,' said Lord Montfort; 'cannot youassist us? Will you enter into this conspiracy of affection with us?'

  'I want no spur to such a righteous work,' said Glastonbury, 'but Icannot conceal from myself the extreme difficulty. Ferdinand is the mostimpetuous of human beings. His passions are a whirlwind; his volitionmore violent than becomes a suffering mortal.'

  'You think, then, there is no difficulty but with him?'

  'I know not what to say,' said Glastonbury; 'calm as appears thetemperament of Miss Grandison, she has heroic qualities. Oh! what have Inot seen that admirable young lady endure! Alas! my Digby, my dearlord, few passages of this terrible story are engraven on my memory moredeeply than the day when I revealed to her the fatal secret. Yet, andchiefly for her sake, it was my duty.'

  'It was at Armine?'

  'At Armine. I seized an opportunity when we were alone together, andwithout fear of being disturbed. We had gone to view an old abbey in theneighbourhood. We were seated among its ruins, when I took her hand andendeavoured to prepare her for the fatal intelligence, "All is not rightwith Ferdinand," she immediately said; "there is some mystery. I havelong suspected it." She listened to my recital, softened as much as Icould for her sake, in silence. Yet her paleness I never can forget. Shelooked like a saint in a niche. When I had finished, she whispered me toleave her for some short time, and I walked away, out of sight indeed,but so near that she might easily summon me. I stood alone until it wastwilight, in a state of mournful suspense that I recall even now withanguish. At last I heard my name sounded, in a low yet distinct voice,and I looked round and she was there. She had been weeping. I took herhand and pressed it, and led her to the carriage. When I approached ourunhappy home, she begged me to make her excuses to the family, and fortwo or three days we saw her no more. At length she sent for me, andtold me she had been revolving all these sad circumstances in her mind,and she felt for others more even than for herself; that she forgaveFerdinand, and pitied him, and would act towards him as a sister; thather heart was distracted with the thoughts of the unhappy young lady,whose name she would never know, but that if by her assistance I couldeffect their union, means should not be wanting, though their sourcemust be concealed; that for the sake of her aunt, to whom she is indeedpassionately attached, she would keep the secret, until it could nolonger be maintained; and that in the meantime it was to be hoped thathealth might be restored to her cousin, and Providence in some wayinterfere in favour of this unhappy family.'

  'Angelic creature!' said Lord Montfort. 'So young, too; I think sobeautiful. Good God! with such a heart what could Armine desire?'

  'Alas!' said Glastonbury, and he shook his head. 'You know not thelove of Ferdinand Armine for Henrietta Temple. It is a wild and fearfulthing; it passeth human comprehension.'

  Lord Montfort leant back in his chair, and covered his face with hishands. After some minutes he looked up, and said in his usual placidtone, and with an' unruffled brow, 'Will you take anything before yougo, Mr. Glastonbury?'