CHAPTER XLII.
Parliament Meets.
Parliament opened that year on the twelfth of February, and Mr.Palliser was one of the first Members of the Lower House to take hisseat. It had been generally asserted through the country, during thelast week, that the existing Chancellor of the Exchequer had, so tosay, ceased to exist as such; that though he still existed to theouter world, drawing his salary, and doing routine work,--if a manso big can have any routine work to do,--he existed no longer inthe inner world of the cabinet. He had differed, men said, withhis friend and chief, the Prime Minister, as to the expediency ofrepealing what were left of the direct taxes of the country, and wasprepared to launch himself into opposition with his small bodyguardof followers, with all his energy and with all his venom.
There is something very pleasant in the close, bosom friendship, andbitter, uncompromising animosity, of these human gods,--of thesehuman beings who would be gods were they not shorn so short of theirdivinity in that matter of immortality. If it were so arranged thatthe same persons were always friends, and the same persons werealways enemies, as used to be the case among the dear old heathengods and goddesses;--if Parliament were an Olympus in which Juno andVenus never kissed, the thing would not be nearly so interesting. Butin this Olympus partners are changed, the divine bosom, now rabidwith hatred against some opposing deity, suddenly becomes repletewith love towards its late enemy, and exciting changes occur whichgive to the whole thing all the keen interest of a sensational novel.No doubt this is greatly lessened for those who come too near thescene of action. Members of Parliament, and the friends of Membersof Parliament, are apt to teach themselves that it means nothing;that Lord This does not hate Mr. That, or think him a traitor to hiscountry, or wish to crucify him; and that Sir John of the Treasuryis not much in earnest when he speaks of his noble friend at the"Foreign Office" as a god to whom no other god was ever comparable inhonesty, discretion, patriotism, and genius. But the outside Britonwho takes a delight in politics,--and this description should includeninety-nine educated Englishmen out of every hundred,--should not bedesirous of peeping behind the scenes. No beholder at any theatreshould do so. It is good to believe in these friendships and theseenmities, and very pleasant to watch their changes. It is delightfulwhen Oxford embraces Manchester, finding that it cannot live withoutsupport in that quarter; and very delightful when the uncompromisingassailant of all men in power receives the legitimate reward of hisenergy by being taken in among the bosoms of the blessed.
But although the outer world was so sure that the existing Chancellorof the Exchequer had ceased to exist, when the House of Commons metthat gentleman took his seat on the Treasury Bench. Mr. Palliser, whohad by no means given a general support to the Ministry in the lastSession, took his seat on the same side of the House indeed, but lowdown, and near to the cross benches. Mr. Bott sat close behind him,and men knew that Mr. Bott was a distinguished member of Mr. Palliser'sparty, whatever that party might be. Lord Cinquebars moved theAddress, and I must confess that he did it very lamely. He wasonce accused by Mr. Maxwell, the brewer, of making a great noise inthe hunting-field. The accusation could not be repeated as to hisperformance on this occasion, as no one could hear a word that hesaid. The Address was seconded by Mr. Loftus Fitzhoward, a nephew ofthe Duke of St. Bungay, who spoke as though he were resolved to trumppoor Lord Cinquebars in every sentence which he pronounced,--as weso often hear the second clergyman from the Communion Table trumpinghis weary predecessor, who has just finished the Litany not in theclearest or most audible voice. Every word fell from Mr. Fitzhowardwith the elaborate accuracy of a separate pistol-shot; and as hebecame pleased with himself in his progress, and warm with his work,he accented his words sharply, made rhetorical pauses, even moved hishands about in action, and quite disgusted his own party, who hadbeen very well satisfied with Lord Cinquebars. There are many rockswhich a young speaker in Parliament should avoid, but no rock whichrequires such careful avoiding as the rock of eloquence. Whatevermay be his faults, let him at least avoid eloquence. He shouldnot be inaccurate, which, however, is not much; he should not belong-winded, which is a good deal; he should not be ill-tempered,which is more; but none of these faults are so damnable as eloquence.All Mr. Fitzhoward's friends and all his enemies knew that he had hadhis chance, and that he had thrown it away.
In the Queen's Speech there had been some very lukewarm allusion toremission of direct taxation. This remission, which had already beencarried so far, should be carried further if such further carryingwere found practicable. So had said the Queen. Those words, it wasknown, could not have been approved of by the energetic and stillexisting Chancellor of the Exchequer. On this subject the moverof the Address said never a word, and the seconder only a word ortwo. What they had said had, of course, been laid down for them;though, unfortunately, the manner of saying could not be so easilyprescribed. Then there arose a great enemy, a man fluent of diction,apparently with deep malice at his heart, though at home,--as we usedto say at school,--one of the most good-natured fellows in the world;one ambitious of that godship which a seat on the other side ofthe House bestowed, and greedy to grasp at the chances which thisdisagreement in the councils of the gods might give him. He was quitecontent, he said, to vote for the Address, as, he believed, would beall the gentlemen on his side of the House. No one could suspect themor him of giving a factious opposition to Government. Had they notborne and forborne beyond all precedent known in that House? Thenhe touched lightly, and almost with grace to his opponents, on manysubjects, promising support, and barely hinting that they weretotally and manifestly wrong in all things. But--. Then the tone ofhis voice changed, and the well-known look of fury was assumed uponhis countenance. Then great Jove on the other side pulled his hatover his eyes, and smiled blandly. Then members put away the papersthey had been reading for a moment, and men in the gallery beganto listen. But--. The long and the short of it was this; that theexisting Government had come into power on the cry of a reductionof taxation, and now they were going to shirk the responsibilityof their own measures. They were going to shirk the responsibilityof their own election cry, although it was known that their ownChancellor of the Exchequer was prepared to carry it out to the full.He was willing to carry it out to the full were he not restrained bythe timidity, falsehood, and treachery of his colleagues, of whom,of course, the most timid, the most false, and the most treacherouswas--the great god Jove, who sat blandly smiling on the other side.
Great Jove.]
No one should ever go near the House of Commons who wishes to enjoyall this. It was so manifestly evident that neither Jove nor anyof his satellites cared twopence for what the irate gentleman wassaying; nay, it became so evident that, in spite of his assumed fury,the gentleman was not irate. He intended to communicate his lookof anger to the newspaper reports of his speech; and he knew fromexperience that he could succeed in that. And men walked about theHouse in the most telling moments,--enemies shaking hands withenemies,--in a way that showed an entire absence of all good, honesthatred among them. But the gentleman went on and finished his speech,demanding at last, in direct terms, that the Treasury Jove shouldstate plainly to the House who was to be, and who was not to be, thebearer of the purse among the gods.
Then Treasury Jove got up smiling, and thanked his enemy for thecordiality of his support. "He had always," he said, "done thegentleman's party justice for their clemency, and had feared noopposition from them; and he was glad to find that he was correct inhis anticipations as to the course they would pursue on the presentoccasion." He went on saying a good deal about home matters, andforeign matters, proving that everything was right, just as easily ashis enemy had proved that everything was wrong. On all these pointshe was very full, and very courteous; but when he came to the subjectof taxation, he simply repeated the passage from the Queen's Speech,expressing a hope that his right honourable friend, the Chancellor ofthe Exchequer, would be able to satisfy the judgement of the House,and the wishes of the people.
That specially personal question whichhad been asked he did not answer at all.
But the House was still all agog, as was the crowded gallery. Theenergetic and still existing Chancellor of the Exchequer was thenpresent, divided only by one little thin Secretary of State from Jovehimself. Would he get up and declare his purposes? He was a man whoalmost always did get up when an opportunity offered itself,--or whenit did not. Some second little gun was fired off from the Oppositionbenches, and then there was a pause. Would the purse-bearer ofOlympus rise upon his wings and speak his mind, or would he sitin silence upon his cloud? There was a general call for thepurse-bearer, but he floated in silence, and was inexplicable. Thepurse-bearer was not to be bullied into any sudden reading of theriddle. Then there came on a general debate about money matters, inwhich the purse-bearer did say a few words, but he said nothing asto the great question at issue. At last up got Mr. Palliser, towardsthe close of the evening, and occupied a full hour in explaining whattaxes the Government might remit with safety, and what they mightnot,--Mr. Bott, meanwhile, prompting him with figures from behindwith an assiduity that was almost too persistent. According to Mr.Palliser, the words used in the Queen's Speech were not at all toocautious. The Members went out gradually, and the House became verythin during this oration but the newspapers declared, next morning,that his speech had been the speech of the night, and that theperspicuity of Mr. Palliser pointed him out as the coming man.
He returned home to his house in Park Lane quite triumphant after hissuccess, and found Lady Glencora, at about twelve o'clock, sittingalone. She had arrived in town on that day, having come up at her ownrequest, instead of remaining at Matching Priory till after Easter,as he had proposed. He had wished her to stay, in order, as hehad said, that there might be a home for his cousins. But she hadexpressed herself unwilling to remain without him, explaining thatthe cousins might have the home in her absence, as well as theycould in her presence; and he had given way. But, in truth, she hadlearned to hate her cousin Iphy Palliser with a hatred that wasunreasonable,--seeing that she did not also hate Alice Vavasor, whohad done as much to merit her hatred as had her cousin. Lady Glencoraknew by what means her absence from Monkshade had been brought about.Miss Palliser had told her all that had passed in Alice's bedroomon the last night of Alice's stay at Matching, and had, by so doing,contrived to prevent the visit. Lady Glencora understood well allthat Alice had said: and yet, though she hated Miss Palliser for whathad been done, she entertained no anger against Alice. Of courseAlice would have prevented that visit to Monkshade if it were in herpower to do so. Of course she would save her friend. It is hardlytoo much to say that Lady Glencora looked to Alice to save her.Nevertheless she hated Iphy Palliser for engaging herself in the samebusiness. Lady Glencora looked to Alice to save her, and yet it maybe doubted whether she did, in truth, wish to be saved.
While she was at Matching, and before Mr. Palliser had returned fromMonkshade, a letter reached her, by what means she had never learned."A letter has been placed within my writing-case," she said to hermaid, quite openly. "Who put it there?" The maid had declared herignorance in a manner that had satisfied Lady Glencora of her truth."If such a thing happens again," said Lady Glencora, "I shall beobliged to have the matter investigated. I cannot allow that anythingshould be put into my room surreptitiously." There, then, had been anend of that, as regarded any steps taken by Lady Glencora. The letterhad been from Burgo Fitzgerald, and had contained a direct proposalthat she should go off with him. "I am at Matching," the letter said,"at the Inn; but I do not dare to show myself, lest I should do youan injury. I walked round the house yesterday, at night, and I knowthat I saw your room. If I am wrong in thinking that you love me, Iwould not for worlds insult you by my presence; but if you love mestill, I ask you to throw aside from you that fictitious marriage,and give yourself to the man whom, if you love him, you should regardas your husband." There had been more of it, but it had been to thesame effect. To Lady Glencora it had seemed to convey an assuranceof devoted love,--of that love which, in former days, her friendshad told her was not within the compass of Burgo's nature. He hadnot asked her to meet him then, but saying that he would return toMatching after Parliament was met, begged her to let him have somemeans of knowing whether her heart was true to him.
She told no one of the letter, but she kept it, and read it over andover again in the silence and solitude of her room. She felt that shewas guilty in thus reading it,--even in keeping it from her husband'sknowledge; but though conscious of this guilt, though resolutealmost in its commission, still she determined not to remain atMatching after her husband's departure,--not to undergo the dangerof remaining there while Burgo Fitzgerald should be in the vicinity.She could not analyse her own wishes. She often told herself, as shehad told Alice, that it would be better for them all that she shouldgo away; that in throwing herself even to the dogs, if such must bethe result, she would do more of good than of harm. She declared toherself, in the most passionate words she could use, that she lovedthis man with all her heart. She protested that the fault would notbe hers, but theirs, who had forced her to marry the man she didnot love. She assured herself that her husband had no affection forher, and that their marriage was in every respect prejudicial tohim. She recurred over and over again, in her thoughts, to her ownchildlessness, and to his extreme desire for an heir. "Though I dosacrifice myself," she would say, "I shall do more of good than harm,and I cannot be more wretched than I am now." But yet she fled toLondon because she feared to leave herself at Matching when BurgoFitzgerald should be there. She sent no answer to his letter. Shemade no preparation for going with him. She longed to see Alice, towhom alone, since her marriage, had she ever spoken of her love, andintended to tell her the whole tale of that letter. She was as onewho, in madness, was resolute to throw herself from a precipice, butto whom some remnant of sanity remained which forced her to seekthose who would save her from herself.
Mr. Palliser had not seen her since her arrival in London, and,of course, he took her by the hand and kissed her. But it was theembrace of a brother rather than of a lover or a husband. LadyGlencora, with her full woman's nature, understood this thoroughly,and appreciated by instinct the true bearing of every touch from hishand. "I hope you are well?" she said.
"Oh, yes; quite well. And you? A little fatigued with your journey, Isuppose?"
"No; not much."
"Well, we have had a debate on the Address. Don't you want to knowhow it has gone?"
"If it has concerned you particularly, I do, of course."
"Concerned me! It has concerned me certainly."
"They haven't appointed you yet; have they?"
"No; they don't appoint people during debates, in the House ofCommons. But I fear I shall never make you a politician."
"I'm almost afraid you never will. But I'm not the less anxious foryour success, since you wish it yourself. I don't understand why youshould work so very hard; but, as you like it, I'm as anxious asanybody can be that you should triumph."
"Yes; I do like it," he said. "A man must like something, and I don'tknow what there is to like better. Some people can eat and drink allday; and some people can care about a horse. I can do neither."
And there were others, Lady Glencora thought, who could love to liein the sun, and could look up into the eyes of women, and seek theirhappiness there. She was sure, at any rate, that she knew one such.But she said nothing of this.
"I spoke for a moment to Lord Brock," said Mr. Palliser. Lord Brockwas the name by which the present Jove of the Treasury was knownamong men.
"And what did Lord Brock say?"
"He didn't say much, but he was very cordial."
"But I thought, Plantagenet, that he could appoint you if he pleased?Doesn't he do it all?"
"Well, in one sense, he does. But I don't suppose I shall ever makeyou understand." He endeavoured, however, to do so on the presentoccasion, and gave her a somewhat longer lecture on the working ofthe British Constitution, and t
he manner in which British politicsevolved themselves, than would have been expected from most younghusbands to their young wives under similar circumstances. LadyGlencora yawned, and strove lustily, but ineffectually, to hide heryawn in her handkerchief.
"But I see you don't care a bit about it," said he, peevishly.
"Don't be angry, Plantagenet. Indeed I do care about it, but I am soignorant that I can't understand it all at once. I am rather tired,and I think I'll go to bed now. Shall you be late?"
"No, not very; that is, I shall be rather late. I've a lot ofletters I want to write to-night, as I must be at work all to-morrow.By-the-by, Mr. Bott is coming to dine here. There will be no oneelse." The next day was a Wednesday, and the House would not sit inthe evening.
"Mr. Bott!" said Lady Glencora, showing by her voice that sheanticipated no pleasure from that gentleman's company.
"Yes, Mr. Bott. Have you any objection?"
"Oh, no. Would you like to dine alone with him?"
"Why should I dine alone with him? Why shouldn't you eat your dinnerwith us? I hope you are not going to become fastidious, and to turnup your nose at people. Mrs. Marsham is in town, and I dare say she'llcome to you if you ask her."
But this was too much for Lady Glencora. She was disposed to be mild,but she could not endure to have her two duennas thus brought uponher together on the first day of her arrival in London. And Mrs.Marsham would be worse than Mr. Bott. Mr. Bott would be engaged withMr. Palliser during the greater part of the evening. "I thought," saidshe, "of asking my cousin, Alice Vavasor, to spend the evening withme."
"Miss Vavasor!" said the husband. "I must say that I thought MissVavasor--" He was going to make some allusion to that unfortunatehour spent among the ruins, but he stopped himself.
"I hope you have nothing to say against my cousin?" said his wife."She is my only near relative that I really care for;--the onlywoman, I mean."
"No; I don't mean to say anything against her. She's very well as ayoung lady, I dare say. I would sooner that you would ask Mrs. Marshamto-morrow."
Lady Glencora was standing, waiting to go away to her own room, butit was absolutely necessary that this matter should be decided beforeshe went. She felt that he was hard to her, and unreasonable, andthat he was treating her like a child who should not be allowed herown way in anything. She had endeavoured to please him, and, havingfailed, was not now disposed to give way.
"As there will be no other ladies here to-morrow evening,Plantagenet, and as I have not yet seen Alice since I have been intown, I wish you would let me have my way in this. Of course I cannothave very much to say to Mrs. Marsham, who is an old woman."
"I especially want Mrs. Marsham to be your friend," said he.
"Friendships will not come by ordering, Plantagenet," said she.
"Friendships will not come by ordering,"said Lady Glencora.]
"Very well," said he. "Of course, you will do as you please. I amsorry that you have refused the first favour I have asked you thisyear." Then he left the room, and she went away to bed.
Can You Forgive Her? Page 44
