“I should have no special objection to Jericho.”
“But you are to go to Baden instead.”
“I’ve said nothing about that yet. But you have not told me half your story. Why is Mr. Palliser going abroad in the middle of Parliament in this way?”
“Ah; now I must go back to the beginning. And indeed, Alice, I hardly know how to tell you; not that I mind you knowing it, only there are some things that won’t get themselves told. You can hardly guess what it is that he is giving up. You must swear that you won’t repeat what I’m going to tell you now?”
“I’m not a person apt to tell secrets, but I shan’t swear anything.”
“What a woman you are for discretion! it is you that ought to be Chancellor of the Exchequer; you are so wise. Only you haven’t brought your own pigs to the best market, after all.”
“Never mind my own pigs now, Cora.”
“I do mind them, very much. But the secret is this. They have asked Mr. Palliser to be Chancellor of the Exchequer, and he has—refused. Think of that!”
“But why?”
“Because of me—of me, and my folly, and wickedness, and abominations. Because he has been fool enough to plague himself with a wife—he who of all men ought to have kept himself free from such troubles. Oh, he has been so good! It is almost impossible to make anyone understand it. If you could know how he has longed for this office;—how he has worked for it day and night, wearing his eyes out with figures when everybody else has been asleep, shutting himself up with such creatures as Mr. Bott when other men have been shooting and hunting and flirting and spending their money. He has been a slave to it for years—all his life I believe—in order that he might sit in the Cabinet, and be a minister and a Chancellor of the Exchequer. He has hoped and feared, and has been, I believe, sometimes half-mad with expectation. This has been his excitement—what racing and gambling are to other men. At last, the place was there, ready for him, and they offered it to him. They begged him to take it, almost on their knees. The Duke of St. Bungay was here all one morning about it; but Mr. Palliser sent him away, and refused the place. It’s all over now, and the other man, whom they all hate so much, is to remain in.”
“But why did he refuse it?”
“I keep on telling you—because of me. He found that I wanted looking after, and that Mrs. Marsham and Mr. Bott between them couldn’t do it.”
“Oh, Cora! how can you talk in that way?”
“If you knew all, you might well ask how I could. You remember about Lady Monk’s ball, that you would not go to—as you ought to have done. If you had gone, Mr. Palliser would have been Chancellor of the Exchequer at this minute; he would, indeed. Only think of that! But though you did not go, other people did who ought to have remained at home. I went for one—and you know who was there for another.”
“What difference could that make to you?” said Alice, angrily.
“It might have made a great deal of difference. And, for the matter of that, so it did. Mr. Palliser was there too, but, of course, he went away immediately. I can’t tell you all the trouble there had been about Mrs. Marsham—whether I was to take her with me or not. However, I wouldn’t take her, and didn’t take her. The carriage went for her first, and there she was when we got there; and Mr. Bott was there too. I wonder whether I shall ever make you understand it all.”
“There are some things I don’t want to understand.”
“There they both were watching me—looking at me the whole evening; and, of course, I resolved that I would not be put down by them.”
“I think, if I had been you, I would not have allowed their presence to make any difference to me.”
“That is very easily said, my dear, but by no means so easily done. You can’t make yourself unconscious of eyes that are always looking at you. I dared them, at any rate, to do their worst, for I stood up to dance with Burgo Fitzgerald.”
“Oh, Cora!”
“Why shouldn’t I? At any rate I did; and I waltzed with him for half an hour. Alice, I never will waltz again;—never. I have done with dancing now. I don’t think, even in my maddest days, I ever kept it up so long as I did then. And I knew that everybody was looking at me. It was not only Mrs. Marsham and Mr. Bott, but everybody there. I felt myself to be desperate—mad, like a wild woman. There I was, going round and round and round with the only man for whom I ever cared two straws. It seemed as though everything had been a dream since the old days. Ah! how well I remember the first time I danced with him—at his aunt’s house in Cavendish Square. They had only just brought me out in London then, and I thought that he was a god.”
“Cora! I cannot bear to hear you talk like that.”
“I know well enough that he is no god now; some people say that he is a devil, but he was like Apollo to me then. Did you ever see anyone so beautiful as he is?”
“I never saw him at all.”
“I wish you could have seen him; but you will some day. I don’t know whether you care for men being handsome.” Alice thought of John Grey, who was the handsomest man that she knew, but she made
