And now we will pay a little visit to the small one born in the purple, and the story of that visit shall be the end of our history. It was early in April, quite early in April, and Mr. and Mrs. Grey were both at Gatherum Castle. Mrs. Grey was there at the moment of which we write, but Mr. Grey was absent at Silverbridge with Mr. Palliser. This was the day of the Silverbridge election, and Mr. Grey had gone to that ancient borough, to offer himself as a candidate to the electors, backed by the presence and aid of a very powerful member of the Cabinet. Lady Glencora and Alice were sitting upstairs with the small, purple-born one in their presence, and the small, purple-born one was lying in Alice’s lap.
“It is such a comfort that it is over,” said the mother.
“You are the most ungrateful of women.”
“Oh, Alice—if you could have known! Your baby may come just as it pleases. You won’t lie awake trembling how on earth you will bear your disgrace if one of the vile weaker sex should come to disturb the hopes of your lords and masters;—for I had two, which made it so much more terrible.”
“I’m sure Mr. Palliser would not have said a word.”
“No, he would have said nothing—nor would the Duke. The Duke would simply have gone away instantly, and never have seen me again till the next chance comes—if it ever does come. And Mr. Palliser would have been as gentle as a dove;—much more gentle than he is now, for men are rarely gentle in their triumph. But I should have known what they both thought and felt.”
“It’s all right now, dear.”
“Yes, my bonny boy—you have made it all right for me;—have you not?” And Lady Glencora took her baby into her own arms. “You have made everything right, my little man. But oh, Alice, if you had seen the Duke’s long face through those three days; if you had heard the tones of the people’s voices as they whispered about me; if you had encountered the oppressive cheerfulness of those two London doctors—doctors are such bad actors—you would have thought it impossible for any woman to live throughout. There’s one comfort;—if my mannikin lives, I can’t have another eldest. He looks like living;—don’t he, Alice?” Then were perpetrated various mysterious ceremonies of feminine idolatry which were continued till there came a grandly dressed old lady, who called herself the nurse, and who took the idol away.
In the course of that afternoon Lady Glencora took Alice all over the house. It was a castle of enormous size, quite new—having been built by the present proprietor—very cold, very handsome, and very dull. “What an immense place!” said Alice, as she stood looking round her in the grand hall, which was never used as an entrance except on very grand occasions. “Is it not? And it cost—oh, I can’t tell you how much it cost. A hundred thousand pounds or more. Well;—that would be nothing, as the Duke no doubt had the money in his pocket to do what he liked with at the time. But the joke is, nobody ever thinks of living here. Who’d live in such a great, overgrown place such as this, if they could get a comfortable house like Matching? Do you remember Longroyston and the hot-water pipes? I always think of the poor Duchess when I come through here. Nobody ever lives here, or ever will. The Duke comes for one week in the year, and Plantagenet says he hates to do that. As for me, nothing on earth shall ever make me live here. I was completely in their power and couldn’t help their bringing me here the other day;—because I had, as it were, disgraced myself.”
“How disgraced yourself?”
“In being so long, you know, before that gentleman was born. But they shan’t play me the same trick again. I shall dare to assert myself, now. Come—we must go away. There are some of the British public come to see one of the British sights. That’s another pleasure here. One has to run about to avoid being caught by the visitors. The housekeeper tells me they always grumble because they are not allowed to go into my little room upstairs.”
On the evening of that day Mr. Palliser and Mr. Grey returned home from Silverbridge together. The latter was then a Member of Parliament, but the former at that moment was the possessor of no such dignity. The election for the borough was now over, whereas that for the county had not yet taken place. But there was no rival candidate for the position, and Mr. Palliser was thoroughly contented with his fate. He was at this moment actually Chancellor of the Exchequer, and in about ten days’ time would be on his legs in the House proposing for his country’s use his scheme of finance. The two men were seated together in an open carriage, and were being whirled along by four horses. They were both no doubt happy in their ambition, but I think that of the two, Mr. Palliser showed his triumph the most. Not that he spoke even to his friend a word that was triumphant in its tone. It was not thus that he rejoiced. He was by nature too placid for that. But there was a nervousness in his contentment which told the tale to any observer who might know how
