Now he sat with the newspaper in his hand thinking of it. Of course it was open to him to take no notice of the matter—to go on as though he had not seen the article, and to let the thing die if it would die. But he knew Mr. Quintus Slide and his paper well enough to be sure that it would not die. The charge would be repeated in the People’s Banner till it was copied into other papers; and then the further question would be asked—why had the Prime Minister allowed such an accusation to remain unanswered? But if he did notice it, what notice should he take of it? It was true. And surely he had a right to do what he liked with his own money so long as he disobeyed no law. He had bribed no one. He had spent his money with no corrupt purpose. His sense of honour had taught him to think that the man had received injury through his wife’s imprudence, and that he therefore was responsible as far as the pecuniary loss was concerned. He was not ashamed of the thing he had done;—but yet he was ashamed that it should be discussed in public.
Why had he allowed himself to be put into a position in which he was subject to such grievous annoyance? Since he had held his office he had not had a happy day, nor—so he told himself—had he received from it any slightest gratification, nor could he buoy himself up with the idea that he was doing good service for his country. After a while he walked into the next room and showed the paper to Mr. Warburton. “Perhaps you were right,” he said, “when you told me not to send that money.”
“It will matter nothing,” said the private Secretary when he had read it—thinking, however, that it might matter much, but wishing to spare the Duke.
“I was obliged to repay the man as the Duchess had—had encouraged him. The Duchess had not quite—quite understood my wishes.” Mr. Warburton knew the whole history now, having discussed it all with the Duchess more than once.
“I think your Grace should take no notice of the article.”
No notice was taken of it, but three days afterwards there appeared a short paragraph in large type—beginning with a question. “Does the Duke of Omnium intend to answer the question asked by us last Friday? Is it true that he paid the expenses of Mr. Lopez when that gentleman stood for Silverbridge? The Duke may be assured that the question shall be repeated till it is answered.” This the Duke also saw and took to his private Secretary.
“I would do nothing at any rate till it be noticed in some other paper,” said the private Secretary. “The People’s Banner is known to be scandalous.”
“Of course it is scandalous. And, moreover, I know the motives and the malice of the wretched man who is the editor. But the paper is read, and the foul charge if repeated will become known, and the allegation made is true. I did pay the man’s election expenses;—and, moreover, to tell the truth openly as I do not scruple to do to you, I am not prepared to state publicly the reason why I did so. And nothing but that reason could justify me.”
“Then I think your Grace should state it.”
“I cannot do so.”
“The Duke of St. Bungay is here. Would it not be well to tell the whole affair to him?”
“I will think of it. I do not know why I should have troubled you.”
“Oh, my lord!”
“Except that there is always some comfort in speaking even of one’s trouble. I will think about it. In the meantime you need perhaps not mention it again.”
“Who? I? Oh, certainly not.”
“I did not mean to others—but to myself. I will turn it in my mind and speak of it when I have decided anything.” And he did think about it—thinking of it so much that he could hardly get the matter out of his mind day or night. To his wife he did not allude to it at all. Why trouble her with it? She had caused the evil, and he had cautioned her as to the future. She could not help him out of the difficulty she had created. He continued to turn the matter over in his thoughts till he so magnified it, and built it up into such proportions, that he again began to think that he must resign. It was, he thought, true that a man should not remain in office as Prime Minister who in such a matter could not clear his own conduct.
Then there was a third attack in the People’s Banner, and after that the matter was noticed in the Evening Pulpit. This notice the Duke of St. Bungay saw and mentioned to Mr. Warburton. “Has the Duke spoken to you of some allegations made in the press as to the expenses of the late election at Silverbridge?” The old Duke was at this time, and had been for some months, in a state of nervous anxiety about his friend. He had almost admitted to himself that he had been wrong in recommending a politician so
