“There has been no quarrel?” asked the Duchess sharply.
“Oh dear, no.”
“Of course he’s an empty-headed idiot. Everybody has always known that. And he’s put above his place in the House. But it wouldn’t do to quarrel with him now.”
“I don’t think I am a quarrelsome man, Cora. I don’t remember at this moment that I have ever quarrelled with anybody to your knowledge. But I may perhaps be permitted to—”
“Snub a man, you mean. Well, I wouldn’t even snub Sir Orlando very much, if I were you; though I can understand that it might be both pleasant and easy.”
“I wish you wouldn’t put slang phrases into my mouth, Cora. If I think that a man intrudes upon me, I am of course bound to let him know my opinion.”
“Sir Orlando has—intruded!”
“By no means. He is in a position which justifies his saying many things to me which another might not say. But then, again, he is a man whose opinion does not go far with me, and I have not the knack of seeming to agree with a man while I let his words pass idly by me.”
“That is quite true, Plantagenet.”
“And, therefore, I was uncomfortable with Sir Orlando, while I was able to sympathise with Lady Rosina.”
“What do you think of Ferdinand Lopez?” asked the Duchess, with studied abruptness.
“Think of Mr. Lopez! I haven’t thought of him at all. Why should I think of him?”
“I want you to think of him. I think he’s a very pleasant fellow, and I’m sure he’s a rising man.”
“You might think the latter, and perhaps feel sure of the former.”
“Very well. Then, to oblige you, I’ll think the latter and feel sure of the former. I suppose it’s true that Mr. Grey is going on this mission to Persia?” Mr. Grey was the Duke’s intimate friend, and was at this time member for the neighbouring borough of Silverbridge.
“I think he will go. I’ve no doubt about it. He is to go after Christmas.”
“And will give up his seat?”
The Duke did not answer her immediately. It had only just been decided—decided by his friend himself—that the seat should be given up when the journey to Persia was undertaken. Mr. Grey, somewhat in opposition to the Duke’s advice, had resolved that he could not be in Persia and do his duty in the House of Commons at the same time. But this resolution had only now been made known to the Duke, and he was rather puzzled to think how the Duchess had been able to be so quick upon him. He had, indeed, kept the matter back from the Duchess, feeling that she would have something to say about it, which might possibly be unpleasant, as soon as the tidings should reach her. “Yes,” he said, “I think he will give up his seat. That is his purpose, though I think it is unnecessary.”
“Let Mr. Lopez have it.”
“Mr. Lopez!”
“Yes;—he is a clever man, a rising man, a man that is sure to do well, and who will be of use to you. Just take the trouble to talk to him. It is assistance of that kind that you want. You Ministers go on shuffling the old cards till they are so worn out and dirty that one can hardly tell the pips on them.”
“I am one of the dirty old cards myself,” said the Duke.
“That’s nonsense, you know. A man who is at the head of affairs as you are can’t be included among the pack I am speaking of. What you want is new blood, or new wood, or new metal, or whatever you may choose to call it. Take my advice and try this man. He isn’t a pauper. It isn’t money that he wants.”
“Cora, your geese are all swans.”
“That’s not fair. I have never brought to you a goose yet. My swans have been swans. Who was it brought you and your pet swan of all, Mr. Grey, together? I won’t name any names, but it is your swans have been geese.”
“It is not for me to return a member for Silverbridge.” When he said this, she gave him a look which almost upset even his gravity, a look which was almost the same as asking him whether he would not—“tell that to the marines.” “You don’t quite understand these things, Cora,” he continued. “The influence which owners of property may have in boroughs is decreasing every day, and there arises the question whether a conscientious man will any longer use such influence.”
“I don’t think you’d like to see a man from Silverbridge opposing you in the House.”
“I may have to bear worse even than that.”
“Well;—there it is. The man is here and you have the opportunity of knowing him. Of course I have not hinted at the matter to him. If there were any Palliser wanted the borough I wouldn’t say a word. What more patriotic thing can a patron do with his borough than to select a man who is unknown to him, not related to him, a perfect stranger, merely for his worth?”
“But I do not know what may be the worth of Mr. Lopez.”
“I will guarantee that,” said the Duchess. Whereupon the Duke laughed, and then left her.
The Duchess had spoken with absolute truth when she told her husband that she had not said a word to Mr. Lopez about Silverbridge, but it was not long before she did say a word. On that same day she found herself alone with him in the garden—or so much alone as to be able to speak with him privately. He had certainly made the best use of his time since he had been at the Castle, having secured the goodwill of many of the ladies, and the displeasure of most of the men. “You have never been in Parliament, I think,” said the Duchess.
“I have never even tried to get there.”
“Perhaps you dislike the idea of that kind of life.”
“No, indeed,” he said.
