LI B RAR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVLRSITY 
 
 Of ILLI NOIS 
 
 V. 
 
 \
 
 LEMUEL 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF 'CYNTHIA.' 
 
 ' O Vita, misero longa felici brevis !' — PubliuS. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 V O L. I. 
 
 LONDON: TINSLEY BROTHERS, 
 8 CATHERINE STREET, STRAND, W.C 
 
 1883. 
 
 \_All Rights reserved.']
 
 COLSTON AKD BON, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.
 
 LEMUEL 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 
 T Is not a question of instinct, 
 mother, or of inheritance : I 
 know nothinor of the instinct 
 of race, and I acknowledge no country. 
 All I know is that I am. I gaze around 
 me, and wonder whence I came ; I look 
 into the past for my origin, I peer into 
 the future for my destiny — I have dis- 
 covered neither. All I know is, as I 
 have said, that I am. The confession is 
 
 VOL. I. A 
 
 <
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 humiliating, but I can see no means of 
 escape from it, and no man, it seems, can 
 suggest any. It is idle to talk to me of 
 faith ; what you call faith is revolt — only 
 a passionate protest against death. I love 
 our old Hebrew psalmody — the songs of 
 our people, those sighs of ages ; but 
 I have no faith in them. - They were 
 the first sounds I distinctly remember to 
 have heard, and they will be dear to 
 me all my days, for they came from your 
 own lips, mother, as you rocked me to 
 rest in my baby-cot. It may be they 
 will be the last sounds that I shall hear 
 upon earth, at any rate the last that I 
 shall care to hear ; but, I repeat, I have 
 no longer any faith in them. In short, 
 I am an unbeliever. 
 
 Lemuel Leverson had been pacing
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 backwards and forwards as he delivered 
 himself of these sentiments. His mother 
 sat by the fireside and did not interrupt 
 him. At length he came to an end ; 
 but, not receiving any response, he 
 looked up and saw that his mother was 
 weeping. Lemuel was an affectionate 
 son, he loved his mother tenderly, he 
 worshipped her with a genuine worship 
 that to some extent filled the unnatural 
 void caused by his loss of faith in God, 
 and it was the very intensity of this 
 affection, perhaps, that prepared the way 
 and made it possible for him to ignore 
 the existence of any higher claim upon 
 his reverence and love. 
 
 Lemuel was by his mother's side in- 
 stantly, and he kissed her forehead with 
 tenderness.
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 ' Should I not be honest, mother ? 
 You would not have me deceive you ? 
 You have taught me ever to say the 
 truth as I hold it : surely it would be 
 unworthy of you and of myself were I 
 to feign that which I have ceased to 
 feel? 
 
 But Lemuel's mother was not to be 
 consoled. She had brought up her son 
 from infancy in the strict observance of 
 the law of Israel, in which she had her- 
 self walked ail her days ; she would 
 have seen him dead at her feet as will- 
 ingly as that he should become an out- 
 cast from her people. 
 
 ' " From the morning watch even until 
 night," she murmured, " let Israel hope 
 in the Lord " ! — My son, oh, my son ! ' 
 
 Lemuel Leverson was the only son of
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 his mother.. He had completed twenty 
 summers, and had outstripped most 
 young men of his age in knowledge and 
 intelligence. And it was these first vic- 
 tories that had filled his heart with 
 pride, that enabled him to stand un- 
 abashed in his mother's presence and to 
 proclaim his infidelity. He believed he 
 was not as other men. The prosaic 
 men around him were not his equals, 
 assuredly ; and, strong in this belief, he 
 did not hesitate to undertake the solu- 
 tion of the deepest questions, and to 
 rush to conclusions at which other men 
 hardly arrive at the end of laborious 
 lives. 
 
 From his father, who had been dead 
 some years, Lemuel Leverson had in- 
 herited but a moderate fortune, and the
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 time had now arrived when the perennial 
 question had to be answered, what was 
 INIrs Leverson to do with her son ? It 
 is the question of questions for every 
 parent at this stage, and it is alarming 
 to think how much depends upon the 
 answer. But for Mrs Leverson there was 
 really no choice. Her son was not of 
 an ordinary stamp that would be coun- 
 selled ; he did not wait for, rpuch less 
 court, the advice of uncle or aunt, or 
 cautious attorney. Away with them ; he 
 w^ould have none of them. Lemuel would 
 choose his own destiny ; he would dispose 
 of himself and of his fortunes. In the 
 pride of his intellect he was at war already 
 with the world that surrounded him, and 
 he would not be advised by his enemies. 
 He felt that he possessed within himself
 
 LeimieL 
 
 an energy, a vitality, superior to any they 
 had ever known. Why, then, was his 
 course in Hfe to be Hmited and bounded 
 by the narrow views of these pigmies, 
 to be mapped out and measured with 
 stake and Hne by these trembling hands ? 
 
 They approached him at first with the 
 easy confidence of superiority with which 
 ordinary youth, just let loose from school, 
 inspires men and women of the world. 
 It was ingenuous youth that had to be 
 treated : why was it not to be moulded 
 after the fancy of the elders ? They 
 laid hands upon him and turned him 
 round, and regarded his points, much as 
 they of the turf do a colt of uncertain 
 pedigree, but their judgment was de- 
 livered in doubtful whispers, for it was 
 perceived that there was a tendency to
 
 8 Lemuel. 
 
 jib, which augured no good in the 
 opinion of the experts. There were 
 indications of temper too, over which they 
 shook their heads and muttered wise saws, 
 but their w^orst anticipations were more 
 than reaHsed when, upon one advising law 
 and another physic, Lemuel, starting to 
 his feet, consigned them all to perdition 
 with an oath. 
 
 The uncle and the aunt and the cautious 
 attorney were aghast. There was but one 
 sentiment among them all. 
 
 ' He will be a sad trial to his mother ! ' 
 they exclaimed, as they left the house in 
 company. 'It is a thousand pities, and 
 with so fair a prospect in the world ! ' 
 
 * Dear me ! ' quoth the attorney, ' I have 
 no patience with- such folly. The law 
 provides such pickings, too, for a man
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 with a good connection — such snug berths ! 
 Dear me ! dear me ! ' 
 
 ' He is a most ill-conditioned young 
 man,' averred Uncle Leverson ; ' a child 
 of wrath, I apprehend, and an affliction to 
 his family.' 
 
 ^ He might as well be a Christian,' 
 muttered Aunt Tabitha Cohen, as she 
 passed out between the uncle and the 
 attorney. 
 
 * Dear me ! dear me ! ' all three ex- 
 claimed in chorus, as they shook the dust 
 from their feet and took their departure 
 in haste. What further room was there 
 indeed for the intervention of sage 
 counsels ? The trusted advisers of the 
 family had been driven forth one and all 
 with contumely, and their gloomy counte- 
 nances sufficiently informed Mrs Leverson
 
 lo Lemuel. 
 
 that her worst forebodings had been re- 
 alised, and that her son's strange temper 
 had asserted itself once more in the ungo- 
 vernable form to which she had of late 
 become accustomed. Mrs Leverson sat 
 by her fireside and wept afresh. She 
 rocked herself to and fro in her great 
 oaken seat, and mourned over the wil- 
 fulness of her child. 
 
 But Lemuel was not moved to peni- 
 tence. He was even further emboldened 
 by this victory, for he felt that he had 
 taken his destiny into his own hands 
 irrevocably now, and he must bear him- 
 self worthy of the responsibility. He 
 was even angry with his mother when 
 he beheld her tears ; for it was a 
 powerful hold upon him still the love 
 that he bore her ; it was the one bar-
 
 Le77iuel. 1 1 
 
 rier that stood between him and entire 
 emancipation. If his mother would only 
 leave him to himself, and acquiesce in 
 his judgment of what should be his 
 career in life, Lemuel thought that he 
 could almost be happy. 
 
 * It is my ambition to be great,' he 
 exclaimed. ' I cannot stoop to an every- 
 day employment. I feel that I possess 
 within me the power to become famous : 
 who shall say to me, ''Be an attorney's 
 clerk or a hospital drudge ? " I feel as 
 Samuel must have felt. True, he was 
 a mystic from the beginning, and an 
 ardent believer ; but his was a grand 
 life.' 
 
 Lemuel had approached the window, 
 which was half open, and was now 
 gazing intently on the blue summer sky.
 
 1 2 Lemuel. 
 
 ' I wish I could believe like Samuel,* 
 he continued. ' I feel I should be 
 capable of great works. Belief in some 
 great principle is essential to success in 
 life ; of that I am convinced. There can 
 be no success worthy the name without 
 enthusiasm ; there can be no enthusiasm 
 without such a belief. Samuel believed 
 in God and was great ; he judged Israel 
 all the days of his life. I cannot believe 
 like Samuel, indeed, but 1 also have a 
 faith that may yet accomplish much. I 
 believe in myself. Yes ; I have had it 
 in my heart of hearts from the first, and 
 have scarce understood it till now ; but 
 it is a faith as deep as that of Israel, 
 as enthusiastic as that of Mahomet. It 
 was the faith of the conquerors of the 
 world. It was the faith of Arbela, and
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 of the Rubicon, and of Marengo. Yes ; I 
 recognise it now ; henceforth it is mine ; 
 I embrace it from this hour.' 
 
 ' Why, you young jackanapes ! ' ex- 
 claimed Lemuel's uncle, who, having re- 
 turned by invitation to dine with his 
 sister-in-law, had overheard the con- 
 clusion of this soliloquy, * you are not 
 yet of age, and you imagine that you 
 are a philosopher already ! Pah ! ' 
 
 Another might have been startled by 
 this unlooked-for interruption of his re- 
 verie ; but Lemuel turned round slowly 
 and with deliberation towards his uncle, 
 regarding him with a gaze of impassive 
 indifference. 
 
 * Age is not always to be counted by 
 years,' observed Lemuel ; * and that the 
 understanding of a man is grey hairs is
 
 14 Lemuel. 
 
 among the wise sayings of our people. 
 I am, moreover, of the poet's mind 
 
 that — 
 
 " In hoary 3^outh Methusalems may die." ' 
 
 ' It had been well for you,' answered 
 Jacob Leverson with warmth, ' had you 
 studied the sayings of our people more 
 and the poets less. You might then 
 have learnt, perhaps, that there is a 
 " whip for a horse, and a snaffle for an 
 ass, and a rod for the back of fools." ' 
 
 ' We two sha'n't agree long,' said 
 Lemuel calmly ; * suppose we separate ? ' 
 
 ' With all my heart,' said Lemuel's 
 uncle ; ' you can go where you please. 
 As for me, I have no desire to expose 
 myself to further insult.' 
 
 * Then my mother and I dine alone 
 to-day,' remarked Lemuel as he threw
 
 LemueL 1 5 
 
 up the window and walked out upon the 
 terrace. 
 
 * The young man will be a thorn in 
 his mother's side all her days/ thought 
 Jacob Leverson as he left the house. 
 ' Indeed, her lot is not to be envied with 
 such a son. The man that considers him- 
 self a born genius is, generally speaking, a 
 born fool ; that has been my experience, 
 and I can see no reason to make an 
 exception in favour of my nephew. Dear 
 me ! Dear me ! ' 
 
 Lemuel having disposed of his uncle 
 and routed his aunt, fell into a fit of 
 melancholy. The victory had in truth 
 been too easy. Where was the glory of 
 the fight ? Triumphs such as these are 
 of small account. Only the first blow- 
 has been struck, and the blood is scarce
 
 1 6 Lemuel. 
 
 stirred when the struggle is at an end and 
 the enemy in retreat. Men of this stamp 
 are the least satisfactory of foes ; men 
 who are ever on the look-out for an ex- 
 cuse to fly and save their own honour 
 without adding to yours. But the hot 
 blood of youth soon asserted itself; and 
 the disenchantment which had followed 
 the first hour of freedom passed quickly 
 away. Lemuel was himself again ; the 
 same dreaming, enthusiastic boy that he 
 had ever been. His spirits rose as the 
 vision of the future appeared before 
 him ; his fervid imagination came to his 
 aid once more ; the consciousness of 
 power returned, and he longed for the 
 opportunity to measure himself with the 
 reputed wits and politicians of the world. 
 Hitherto he had contemplated them
 
 Lemuel. 1 7 
 
 from afar off, or had studied them in 
 books only. They were not within 
 striking distance ; but Lemuel had dis- 
 covered nothing in their aspect to daunt 
 or to discourage him. On the contrary, 
 their littlenesses appeared at every turn, 
 and there were chinks and flaws visible 
 in their armour, through which one that 
 was skilled in the use of the sword or 
 the poignard might deal deadly thrusts. 
 To rise to eminence was his ambition, 
 and every man that succeeds has to beat 
 down the world first unless his ancestors 
 have done it for him. The fierce fight 
 happens once at least in the history of 
 every family that rises to fame ; in most 
 it has to be renewed again and again ; but, 
 once Fame's trumpet has proclaimed your 
 triumph, it will echo through all ages. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 To place himself on an equality with 
 the world for the battle of life it was 
 essential that Lemuel should mingle with 
 society and study mankind at close quar- 
 ters. And on this object his mind was 
 now set. Mrs Leverson would have 
 kept her son by her side ; for her there 
 was no joy when he was absent ; but his 
 indomitable will asserted itself irresis- 
 tibly. Expeditions from home were not 
 now simply proposed as of old ; they 
 were decided in the same instant, and it 
 was no longer for his mother to advise, but 
 only to inquire the day and the hour. She 
 knew from experience that remonstrance 
 was idle, for Lemuel never changed his mind 
 — it was one of his theories. His mother 
 contented herself with rocking to and fro by 
 the fireside and shedding tears in silence.
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 ROM the time of her hus- 
 band's death Mrs Leverson had 
 mingled but Httle in the world. 
 She continued to reside in the pretty 
 villa in the northern suburbs of London, 
 where also she had passed most of her 
 married life. The house was not a 
 large one, and Mrs Leverson had no 
 ambition to occupy a more pretentious 
 dwelling. The neighbourhood was in- 
 habited by homely people. They were 
 mostly engaged in business or but re- 
 cendy retired from it, for there was little
 
 20 Lemuel. 
 
 that could be called aristocratic in that 
 district. Mrs Leverson had but few 
 friends among them, nor did she seek 
 to extend her acquaintance. For her 
 the society of her son was all-sufficient, 
 and since his return from school he had 
 been but rarely absent from her side. 
 And on his part Lemuel was even more 
 reserved than his mother. He felt as if, 
 he had dropped from the clouds into the 
 midst of these people, so completely was 
 he a stranger amongst them, to so great 
 a distance was he removed from their 
 ways of regarding life. The petty in- 
 terests that absorbed their thoughts ha- 
 bitually he looked upon as children's 
 toys, and the fears that followed on 
 trifles in their minds were to him as the 
 alarms of the serving girl whose highest
 
 Lemuel, 2 1 
 
 idea of a catastrophe is limited to the 
 shivering of a potsherd. He was above and 
 beyond them immeasurably, and his best 
 companionship he ever found to be his own. 
 One great house there was surrounded 
 by a stately park where at intervals 
 resided the lord of the manor ; but the 
 dwellers around saw little of him. Once 
 a year in the warm summer weather 
 there would be a fete at the Manor 
 House that attracted a brilliant throng 
 from the West End, after which all 
 would subside again into its wonted 
 peace and solitude. It was a delightful 
 spot situate on the northern heights, and 
 the park that surrounded the mansion 
 embraced hill and dale and soft undulat- 
 ing meadows, that rested the eye weary 
 from the glare of the streets. A minia-
 
 2 2 Lemuel. 
 
 ture lake slept in the valley, and from 
 its margin rose a hanging wood of beech 
 and dark cedars wherein the heron made 
 its nest. To all appearance the tOAvn 
 might have been miles away, so secluded 
 was the place. 
 
 In the distance beneath, stretching 
 away as far as eye could follow, lay the 
 great city. And through the long ave- 
 nues of pines' that crowned the ridges in 
 the park there was a vista of towering 
 monuments, and spires that sought the 
 skies, that struggled, as it were, with the 
 mist and fume to penetrate to the upper 
 and clearer air, types of human aspiration 
 still striving for something nobler and 
 better than is to be found by the earth's 
 surface. 
 
 Hither as the evening closed came
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 the soft clamour of distant bells, and 
 lights commenced to twinkle from afar 
 through the gloom as the great human 
 family gathered round their firesides 
 when the day's labour was ended. And 
 here many a time would Lemuel wander 
 amid the groves, losing himself in day 
 dreams in their shadowy glades, or rest- 
 ing beneath the solemn cedars while his 
 brooding spirit wrestled with the un- 
 solved problems of human existence, and 
 his imagination was on fire with visions 
 of the misty future. He felt that the 
 time for action was at hand, that he 
 stood even upon the threshold of man- 
 hood, and when he looked out upon the 
 world with which he had to deal, the 
 prospect, it seemed to him, was fair and 
 inviting. And so is it ever to smiling
 
 24 Lemuel. 
 
 youth. He may be on the brink of the 
 precipice, the jaws of death may open 
 ever so wide, but the sunshine of life is 
 upon him, and its beauty is before and 
 around him, and he is bHnd to the 
 yawning chasm. And it is as it should 
 be. Life has to be faced as it stands, 
 be it for better or for worse, and the 
 more hopefully and the more confidently 
 a man commences his career, the more 
 likely it is that he will conclude it suc- 
 cessfully. There are two qualities in life 
 that are the seeds of its heroes, audacity 
 and discretion ; and in the happy blend- 
 ing of both are found its Caesars and 
 its Napoleons. The world recognises 
 nature's masterpiece and goes on its 
 knees. 
 
 There had been a great fHe at the
 
 LemueL 25 
 
 manor ; and, as evening fell, the company 
 began to disperse, and carriages laden 
 with most that was noblest and fairest 
 in London society were hastening down 
 the steep incline that leads towards the 
 city. Lemuel was returning to his home, 
 and had commenced to ascend the hill, 
 when of a sudden there was a cry, followed 
 by a crash on the height above, and pre- 
 sently was to be seen a carriage coming 
 at full speed down the incline, the horses 
 galloping frantically, while the carriage 
 swayed wildly from side to side. A ser- 
 vant had fallen from the box, and had 
 just been raised from the ground in- 
 sensible, but the coachman still held the 
 reins, though he had evidently lost the 
 control. Onward In its headlong course 
 came the carriage down the hill, exposing
 
 26 Lemuel. 
 
 its occupants to destruction at every in- 
 stant. These were seen to consist of two 
 ladies, the elder of whom had fallen back 
 in a fainting condition, whilst the terrified 
 cries of the younger added further horror 
 to the scene. Men turned pale and held 
 their breath as the horses, no longer re- 
 strained, swept by in their mad career, 
 and women felt sick with terror, and 
 averted their faces lest they should see the 
 end. At the bottom of the hill the road 
 took a sharp turn, and it was apparent 
 that If this point were reached, the car- 
 riage, would be dashed to pieces, and the 
 occupants would, In all probability, not 
 escape with their lives. The fatal turn 
 was close at hand, and the final catastrophe 
 appeared to be inevitable, when Lemuel, 
 rushing into the middle of the way, laid
 
 Lemuel. 27 
 
 hands upon the animal that was the nearest 
 to him, and bringing his whole weight to 
 bear, succeeded in forcing it to its knees. 
 The carriage was brought to a stand on the 
 instant, and, ere men had time to realise 
 what had occurred, Lemuel was already 
 gallantly assisting the occupants to alight. 
 The elder of the ladies was no longer 
 conscious of what had occurred, but the 
 younger had still sufficient presence of 
 mind to ask through her tears for the 
 name of her deliverer. But Lemuel de- 
 clined thanks ; he had no desire for the 
 acknowledgments of those whom he had 
 rescued, though it were from all but certain 
 death ; to him what he had done was but 
 a simple act of duty. 
 
 The incident had indeed almost passed 
 from his memory, and he had ceased to
 
 28 Lemuel. 
 
 think of it by the following morning, when a 
 servant appeared at the gate of Mrs Lever- 
 son's villa, and presented the card of the 
 Duchess of Shetland. This was accom- 
 panied by a message to the effect that the 
 duchess would esteem it as a particular 
 favour if Mr Leverson would call at Shet- 
 land House in the course of the day. 
 
 It was a noble mansion in which the 
 duchess resided ; one of the very few in 
 London, the extent and proportions of 
 which recall to the imagination the 
 palaces of Italy. It was altogether worthy 
 of the traditions of the great house of 
 Shetland, and, on her part, the duchess 
 had ever sustained the reputation of the 
 family for splendid hospitality. Nor was 
 it the magnificence of a season only, which 
 is always somewhat forced, — it was the
 
 Lemuel. 29 
 
 habitual grandeur that needs no effort 
 and causes no strain. The duchess had 
 reigned in society as one of its fairest and 
 best ornaments in the days of the Regency, 
 when the fair and the good seemed to 
 form separate sections of the community. 
 She had passed through the fire of a 
 corrupt generation, and had come forth 
 unscathed and unsulHed, and now in her 
 old age there was none that was more 
 honoured or more courted than she. Pos- 
 sessed of great wealth she spent it lavishly, 
 and at her house were to be met most of 
 those who were highly distinguished by 
 birth or by merit. 
 
 With the duchess resided her niece, 
 Lady Muriel, the orphan child of the 
 Earl of Bellecourt, the duchess's brother. 
 To the duchess Lady Muriel had been as
 
 30 Lemuel. 
 
 a daughter ; she was heiress of her father's 
 vast estates, and it was understood that 
 from the duchess also she would inherit 
 a great fortune. 
 
 For the first time Lady Muriel had 
 been presented to the world of London 
 this year, and society had pronounced un- 
 hesitatingly its verdict in her favour. Her 
 beauty was not, indeed, of the showy type ; 
 she was the primrose that grows on the 
 shady bank in all its native simplicity, not 
 the gaudy carnation artificially trained to 
 adorn the trim parterre. She sought not 
 to dazzle ; for her admiration had no value, 
 and she did not court flattery; her beauty 
 did not depend upon any regularity of feat- 
 ure, it was the charm of her manner that 
 first attracted attention, and the sweetness 
 of her smile converted it into love. Lady
 
 Lemuel. 3 1 
 
 Muriel was, in fact, wholly unspoilt by the 
 adulation of the world ; the simplicity and 
 truthfulness of her character seemed to 
 shield her effectually from its temptations. 
 It was midday when Lemuel presented 
 himself at the portals of Shetland House. 
 He was not abashed by the array of pow- 
 dered footmen, or the doubtful glances 
 cast at him by the groom of the chambers 
 as he was conducted to the presence. 
 Through chamber after chamber he fol- 
 lowed ; rooms filled with all that can 
 satisfy the eye, or add pleasure to exist- 
 ence ; walls that glowed with priceless 
 works that had adorned at some time the 
 salons of a French palace, or hung in the 
 cloisters of an Italian monastery ; cabinets 
 curious with rare china ; tables, precious 
 in themselves, laden with the thousand
 
 32 
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 objects adapted for pleasure or for use, 
 that only the magic touch of woman can 
 display to the best advantage. 
 
 Lemuel had not been accustomed to the 
 luxury of palaces ; he had seen none of 
 their splendours before this day, but he 
 held his head erect, nevertheless, until it 
 was bowed with becoming modesty before 
 the little old lady with the pale placid face 
 and round blue eyes that sat propped up 
 with pillows in the middle of the sofa. 
 
 No sooner had Lemuel's name been an- 
 nounced than the little old lady made an 
 effort to rise, a mark of attention which she 
 had been accustomed to display to royalty 
 alone, and, holding forth her hand, signified 
 to Lemuel to take his place by her side. 
 For a moment the duchess did not 
 speak ; she continued to hold Lemuel by
 
 Lemuel. 33 
 
 the hand, gazing at him with her round 
 blue eyes, and Lemuel, who was at a loss 
 to understand at first, presently perceived 
 that they were filled with tears. When 
 she found words the duchess was not slow 
 to convey her sense of gratitude and 
 admiration. She thanked Lemuel warmly 
 for his gallant act ; nor was he permitted 
 to depart until he had promised to return 
 to dine on the following day. 
 
 ' For my niece,' the duchess explained, 
 ' whose gratitude you have earned, not less 
 than my own, is too ill and nervous to-day 
 to leave her room, but she will, I trust, 
 be recovered sufificiently by to-morrow to 
 thank you in person.' 
 
 When Lemuel found himself ao^ain in 
 the street, it appeared to him as if, in 
 these four-and-twenty hours, he had been 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 34 Lemuel. 
 
 making an excursion into fairyland, into 
 those enchanted bowers where we have 
 read that good fairies smile upon you, and 
 take you under their protection, and make 
 life bright and joyous of a sudden, and full 
 of surprise and adventure. But it was no 
 dream, it was no fairy tale, it was all sub- 
 stantial enough — an opening in life that 
 might be the means of changing his whole 
 future had appeared before him ; the slowly 
 revolving wheel of fortune seemed to have 
 taken a sudden turn, and to be spinning 
 round upon its axle. The dreams of success 
 in the great world that Lemuel had dreamt 
 beneath the cool shade of the cedars might 
 be realised, he thought, even now, and in a 
 way the most unexpected, and he bounded 
 along with elastic step, and a faith in him- 
 self that was more firm than ever.
 
 Lemuel. 3 5 
 
 It was an evening towards the end of 
 June, and the windows of Shetland House, 
 that looked upon the terrace, were thrown 
 widely open ; the air was soft and balmy, 
 and the fresh fragrance of flowers from 
 conservatory and garden pervaded the 
 spacious and dimly-lighted saloons. The 
 duchess had just entered the reception- 
 room as the first guests were announced, 
 and she was still engaged in adjusting her 
 delicately-embroidered and scented gloves. 
 
 ' Mr Lemuel Leverson, your grace,' 
 vociferated the groom of the chambers. 
 
 The duchess advanced to meet Lemuel, 
 and, welcoming him warmly, presented 
 him to her niece, Lady Muriel Bellecourt. 
 
 The young lady blushed deeply as she 
 offered her hand, and in the sweetest 
 confusion imaginable, endeavoured to
 
 36 Lemuel. 
 
 make her expressions of gratitude intel- 
 ligible. It did not matter greatly, indeed, 
 whether Lady Muriel succeeded in making 
 clear her meaning in words ; for there 
 was that to be read in her eyes which 
 was more eloquent than many speeches. 
 But in another instant the announcement 
 of the arrival of a royal duchess called 
 her away. At dinner Lady Muriel was 
 placed at some distance from Lemuel ; 
 but, at every pause in the conversation, 
 her eyes were found wandering in the 
 same direction. There was, in fact, only 
 one thought that occupied her mind ; 
 it seemed to her that every noble 
 and chivalrous quality was stamped in 
 Lemuel's face. She felt something more 
 than the debt of gratitude that was his 
 due ; she recognised in him an influence
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 such as women are not fashioned to resist, 
 a power and force of character before 
 which it only remains to fall down and 
 worship. It is, perhaps, what in the 
 world is termed love at first sight, though 
 its full meaning may not be recognised 
 on either side at first. It may be in the 
 man, or it may be in the woman ; it is 
 not usually in both. As a rule, one or 
 the other has to be attracted and led. But 
 if both are struck together, not all the 
 powers of earth shall keep them asunder. 
 Heaven has decreed it : stand off, ye 
 potentates of clay ! 
 
 As for Lemuel, the grace and sweetness 
 of Lady Muriel filled him with admiration ; 
 but it had not occurred to him to indulge 
 in any more tender feeling. It appeared 
 as if the barrier between himself and one
 
 38 Lemuel . 
 
 so highly placed were indeed insurmount- 
 able, and the very suggestion of love was 
 cast under foot and trampled upon. Even 
 the soft glances of those azure eyes that 
 fell upon him, each with a spell of its own 
 more potent than its predecessors, did not 
 disturb his habitual serenity. Lemuel was 
 not emotional ; he was what the world 
 terms cold ; but, with some men, the 
 world is thoroughly mistaken. It is not 
 always insensibility, nor is it indifference : 
 it may be refinement ; it may be fastidi- 
 ousness that sways both the intellect and 
 the heart. 
 
 Such men detect alloy where ordinary 
 mortals are wont to discern only fine 
 gold ; but when they do come upon the 
 pure and the perfect — for once only in a 
 lifetime, it may be — they are apt to be
 
 Lenittel. 39 
 
 carried away by a passion more head- 
 long, more heedless a thousandfold, than 
 all the loves of the impressionable put 
 together. It was thus with Lemuel Lever- 
 son, but there was in addition the severe 
 discipline of reason that controlled pas- 
 sion and sentiment alike ; they were the 
 servants and helpmates of his reason, 
 never its master. They played the parts 
 assigned to them in the drama, but no 
 exaggerations were permitted ; they were 
 never suffered to go beyond the text ; and 
 it was not until the word was given that 
 wild passion and all-subduing love might 
 break away from their bonds with resist- 
 less energy.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 T was an afternoon in the early 
 part of July, and the London 
 season was at its height. It 
 had been a busy week for the world of 
 fashion, and men and women were glad to 
 escape, if only for a few hours, from the 
 heat and the turmoil of the streets to 
 breathe the purer air of some suburban 
 retreat. And of these none possesses 
 greater fascination for the weary and the 
 overworked than Richmond. 
 
 It was the Sheen of our ancestors, who.
 
 Lemuel, 4 1 
 
 in thus naming it, gave expression to their 
 sense of its singular beauty ; and so it re- 
 mained until it became the favourite retreat 
 of the Tudor princes. Here Henry the 
 Seventh was wont to seek rest from the 
 cares of State, and, in conferring upon the 
 place a title by which he had himself been 
 known in his youth, connected Richmond 
 for ever in his mind with those happier 
 days ere ambition made him a king and 
 circumstances a tyrant. 
 
 Hither hastened his relentless son to 
 await the echoes of the Tower guns, that 
 told how the head of hapless Anne had 
 fallen on the block. To Richmond came 
 Elizabeth unwillingly to die, scared in those 
 last days by the spectres of the scaffold 
 that haunted her imagination, seeking such 
 peace as she might in the sylvan solitudes
 
 42 Lemtiel. 
 
 of her palace at Richmond. Undefiled 
 by foreign invasion or domestic turmoil, 
 every tradition of the place is of rest, 
 and its amenities are undisturbed by any 
 memory of conflict. 
 
 Lemuel Leverson was leaning on the 
 balustrade of the garden of the famous 
 hotel on Richmond Hill, and gazing thence 
 on the glorious prospect that stretches 
 away until earth and heaven seem to unite 
 in the blue distance. There was the 
 winding stream, now vanishing, now re- 
 appearing, taking its ease, as it were, 
 amid the rich meadows and the soft woods 
 of the Thames valley ; nearer, at the foot 
 of the terrace, where the honeysuckle yet 
 grows untended and the wild clematis, the 
 children romped and crowned themselves 
 with flowers, and held hands and frolicked,
 
 Lemuel, 43 
 
 and laughter was in their bright faces when 
 they were noticed. The fountains played, 
 and the garden was trim and gay with 
 the summer roses as an Eastern princess 
 decked in her jewels ; and here and there 
 sauntered or sat happy couples escaped 
 from the sultry atmosphere of the town, 
 enjoying the cool evening breeze for the 
 half-hour before dinner was announced. 
 
 * I think you must have known my 
 brother,' said Marcia Mowbray, a good- 
 looking, fashionably-dressed woman, whose 
 acquaintance Lemuel had formed at the 
 Duchess of Shetland's party. ' Was he 
 not at school with you ? ' 
 
 Lemuel made no reply. He gazed at 
 Mrs Mowbray inquiringly, and with a 
 puzzled expression. 
 
 ' Oh, I had forgotten ! ' she exclaimed,
 
 44 Lemuel. 
 
 laughing ; ' I have not told you what was 
 my maiden name — how very dull of me ! 
 It was Lambton.' 
 
 ' Lambton ? ' repeated Lemuel. ' And 
 are you sister of Willie Lambton who 
 was with me at Harrow?' 
 
 'He is my youngest brother,' said 
 Marcia Mowbray. ' I had heard so much 
 of you from Willie, that when I saw you 
 and your name was mentioned, I could 
 not doubt of your identity. I feel that 
 I have known you for years, although we 
 have only met so recently.' 
 
 ' And so Willie spoke much to you of 
 me,' said Lemuel. ' I wonder what it was 
 that he told you ? ' 
 
 ' He raved about you at one time,' said 
 Marcia ; ' even his holidays were a weari- 
 ness to him, because of the loss of your
 
 Lemuel, 45 
 
 companionship, then all at once he ceased 
 to speak of you. Something had occurred, 
 I am sure, but what it was he never con- 
 fided to me. I often asked my brother, 
 but he always evaded the question. Willie 
 is very religious, you know,' Marcia Mow- 
 bray added, * and I used to think that, 
 perhaps, he had taken a prejudice against 
 persons who professed your faith.' 
 
 ' It was not that,' said Lemuel, slowly ; 
 ' no, it was not that ; it was, if you must 
 know, because I had none.' 
 
 * You had none ! Surely you do not 
 mean to say that you have no belief '^ ' 
 
 'Not in the supernatural order,' replied 
 Lemuel ; ' in the order of nature my belief 
 is that of a fanatic' 
 
 Marcia Mowbray was not herself a de- 
 votee by any means, but she professed as
 
 46 Lemuel. 
 
 much religion as the majority of her neigh- 
 bours, and quite sufficient to satisfy the re- 
 quirements of even the more staid portion 
 of society. Her reHgion was not, indeed, 
 suffered to interfere with her pursuits, but 
 neither was it ahogether shadowy. Re- 
 hgion had with her a general, not parti- 
 cular application, and her belief, without 
 pretension to theological accuracy, was ijn- 
 questioned, because it had never occurred 
 to her to question it. It was a decided 
 shock to find herself thus unexpectedly 
 face to face with an avowed infidel. And 
 the words were not, she knew, uttered 
 flippantly. Lemuel looked older than he 
 was, and he had spoken with deliberation. 
 ' You have explained all now,' said 
 Marcia Mowbray, ' and I am no longer 
 at a loss to account for my brother's
 
 LemMcl. 47 
 
 altered sentiments towards you. Pray, 
 may I ask when it was that you com- 
 menced to repudiate reHgion ? ' 
 
 ' As soon as I began to reflect,' said 
 Lemuel. ' Until the age of seventeen 
 others thought for me ; at eighteen I 
 thought for myself ; at nineteen I was 
 what you would term an infidel.' 
 
 ' You appear to have made astonishing 
 progress when once you had begun,' con- 
 tinued Marcia Mowbray. * Others have 
 been more perplexed. To have thought 
 out for oneself the problems of time and 
 eternity, and to have arrived at a conclu- 
 sion between seventeen and nineteen is 
 a feat, believe me. Some men reputed 
 wise have found a lifetime too short for 
 the same purpose, I have heard.' 
 
 ' It is very pleasant to believe,' said
 
 48 Lemuel. 
 
 Lemuel ; ' it cheers the path of life, and 
 smoothes the pillow in death. I was 
 happier when I believed than I have 
 since been ; but I had no choice in the 
 matter. I do not boast of my incredulity, 
 neither do I affect to conceal it : those 
 who are just to me say it is my misfor- 
 tune, not my fault. Let me hope you 
 will be of the number.' 
 
 * Then you would have me think that 
 you are serious,' said Marcia, ' and I am 
 sorry that it should be so ; for I could 
 have forgiven more readily a jest on such 
 a subject than an attempted justification. 
 But do not misunderstand me. I am 
 not a theologian, and have no desire 
 to argue the case. At present we are 
 bent upon dining.' 
 
 It was at Marcia Mowbray's invitation
 
 Lemuel . 49 
 
 that Lemuel had joined the party at 
 Richmond ; and amongst the guests whose 
 acquaintance he made there was Daphne 
 Bland. She was a beautiful brunette of 
 five-and-twenty, conscious of her good 
 looks, and demonstrative to the point of 
 danger. Her natural virtues were, in 
 fact, so covered over by wanton world- 
 liness as to be, even to the lynx-eyed, 
 invisible, save in the case of the few 
 that knew her intimately. Her husband 
 she respected indeed, but failed alto- 
 gether to obey. He was her senior by 
 nearly forty years — a man of science and 
 a philosopher, that loved best the recesses 
 of his library. Yielding to the solicitations 
 of her family, Daphne Dorrell had been 
 persuaded to marry him after a stout 
 resistance ; but amongst the freaks of 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 Lemuel. 
 
 our humanity, that of being buried alive 
 for choice has never been one, and 
 Daphne was not disposed to set the 
 example. In consenting to marry Ralph 
 Bland she had, she conceived, done her 
 duty to gods and men ; henceforth she de- 
 termined that pleasure should have its turn. 
 
 At dinner Lemuel sat between Marcia 
 Mowbray and Daphne Bland. Each of 
 the women took an interest in Lemuel 
 from the first — Marcia, on account of 
 his singular character, and Daphne, for 
 his good looks. But in a contest for 
 the mastery, Marcia had the advantage ; 
 for ready wit, joined to audacity, will 
 generally carry the day, even if the victory 
 hang doubtfully for a space in the presence 
 of the god-like possession of beauty. 
 
 Daphne Bland was bold to rashness,
 
 Lemuel, 5 1 
 
 and at times she was betrayed by her 
 feeling's Into wild flights of sentiment 
 which, In the mouth of a married woman, 
 are liable to be misconstrued. Hence 
 the world judged her severely, and 
 judged her rashly ; but Daphne had also 
 a sharp tongue, and the revllers got the 
 worst of It for the most part. 
 
 * This Is my first visit to Richmond,' 
 remarked Lemuel. ' To you the place Is 
 doubdess familiar.' 
 
 'Why, yes,' answered Daphne. *You 
 see, my husband Is fond of good food, 
 and I have not much difficulty In Induc- 
 inor him to dine out. It Is the least 
 of my troubles. His consent once ob- 
 tained, I make up a little party, and — 
 voilct tout' 
 
 * That Is as It should be,' said Lemuel. 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY
 
 52 Lemuel. 
 
 ' The amenities of domestic life are assur- 
 edly among the most delightful of human 
 experiences. I am convinced, moreover, 
 that in these matters the wife should 
 rule ; and the husband is a wise man 
 who respects her privilege.' 
 
 'Well, we need not discuss the ques- 
 tion of my husband's wisdom,' said 
 Daphne, with a shrill laugh ; ' you do 
 not know him, and so I should have an 
 unfair advantage in the argument ; but 
 there are questions other than those 
 connected with dining out, in which a 
 wife may, without undue presumption, 
 expect that her views will not be dis- 
 reorarded altoo^ether.' 
 
 'Undoubtedly,' said Lemuel. * But your 
 cheery manner leaves little room for ques- 
 tion that, in your case at least, the
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 bounds of a wife's authority are extended 
 rather than curtailed.' 
 
 ' It is evident that you are not in the 
 family secrets/ said Daphne. 'If you had 
 been you would wonder at my venturing 
 to smile at all. But, like the rest/ she 
 added, with a sigh, * you judge by appear- 
 ances. Presently you will be told that I 
 am frisky. Don't believe it. I am the 
 saddest woman alive.' 
 
 ' Incredible ! ' 
 
 ' You see, my husband does not dance — > 
 
 * How strange ! ' 
 
 Daphne was somewhat startled by this 
 remark, and scanned Lemuel's countenance 
 narrowly. She apprehended that he was 
 laughing at her. 
 
 ' You arc an amusing man,' she said at 
 length in a tone of sarcasm. * I can see
 
 54 LemueL 
 
 that at a glance. But it might have been 
 better had you waited until I had completed 
 the sentence.' 
 
 Lemuel had, in fact, used the words al- 
 most mechanically. He had been observing 
 Daphne with interest, and was amused at her 
 volubility. He did not mean to ofiend her. 
 
 * Pardon the interruption,' he replied, 
 * I was listening attentively.' 
 
 ' Well,' Daphne resumed, * as I have 
 said, my husband, not caring to dance at 
 his age, will not suffer me to dance either. 
 It is as nearly as possible unbearable.' 
 
 'Indeed!' 
 
 ' You provoking creature ! you know it 
 is,' said Daphne, stamping her foot. ' Do 
 you not dance '^. ' 
 
 * Not of late years.' 
 
 * Of late years ! ' repeated Daphne.
 
 Lemuel, 5 5 
 
 ' Pray, how many years have elapsed sine 3 
 you renounced the frlvoHties of youth ? ' 
 
 * I have never had any.' 
 
 A peal of laughter was Daphne's re- 
 sponse as the men rose from their seats 
 to make way for the women to retire. 
 
 ' You amuse me,' she said, looking back 
 at Lemuel over her shoulder as she left the 
 dinine-room. ' You amuse me consider- 
 ably. I must see you again.' 
 
 'What do you think of young Leverson ?' 
 said Marcia Mowbray, as she sauntered 
 on the terrace with Daphne, after dinner. 
 
 ' Oh, very young — a complete simple- 
 ton ! ' said Daphne; 'a veritable babe in 
 the wood, I promise you. He danced 
 years ago and has no frivolities. Delight- 
 ful, is it not, in a youth of twenty ? Be- 
 tween ourselves, he is a fool !'
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 * He may perhaps be a knave, and I 
 fancy he is somewhat of a prig ; but he 
 is not a fool, believe me/ responded 
 Marcia. 'He is a Hebrew by birth and 
 an infidel by profession — ' 
 
 ' Good gracious I You are not serious ?' 
 
 ' But I am,' continued ]\Iarcia. ' There 
 
 is no doubt on the subject. He made his 
 
 profession of unbelief to me only this 
 
 afternoon.' 
 
 * Then, what do you suppose he in- 
 tended to convey by his silly remarks 
 during dinner ? ' inquired Daphne, w'ith 
 some concern. 
 
 'Well,' replied Marcia, 'I think it was 
 nothing more than an experiment on his 
 part — I may say, a process of vivisection. 
 He wanted to draw you out, and — don't 
 be alarmed — to laugh at you. That was all.'
 
 Lemuel, 5 7 
 
 ' To laugh at me ! Perhaps you are 
 right/ said Daphne, growing serious, 'and at 
 one moment I suspected as much. I could 
 kill him if I thought so — the coxcomb ! ' 
 
 ' But, after all, it is difficult to feel really 
 angry with a good-looking man,' Marcia 
 observed, ' unless, indeed, you would con- 
 found jealousy with anger. No ; his worst 
 faults are condoned when you look in his 
 face ; he has but to smile and you feel that 
 you have already received compensation, 
 and forgiven the offence.' 
 
 * Forgive him because he smiles upon 
 you ! Then you are easily pacified,' said 
 Daphne. ' I am not by any means clear 
 that it is wise to be thus fori^Ivino-. This 
 readiness to pardon, this assurance of con- 
 donation, encouraiT^es these o-ood-lookinor 
 men to be insolent beyond endurance.
 
 58 Lemuel. 
 
 Their impertinence knows no bounds at 
 last, and you are fortunate if it does not 
 culminate in the greatest crime of all — 
 easy-going indifference.' 
 
 ' That is maddening, I admit,' Marcia 
 replied ; ' It Is the unpardonable sin ; but 
 my experience hitherto has not, I confess, 
 led me to anticipate such a result.' 
 
 And now the men have rejoined the 
 women on the terrace, and the party is 
 about to separate. Lemuel raises his glass 
 and searches for Daphne Bland In the 
 twihVht. 
 
 o 
 
 ' Ah ! there she Is,' he says to himself at 
 length ; ' and a rare and precious speci- 
 men of the woman of society — caught 
 on Richmond Hill, July the 5th, 1850. 
 In she goes to my museum : she richly 
 deserves a niche and a number.'
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 c^^^^^^^ ARC I A MOWBRAY was 
 the wife of the Right Hon. 
 James Mowbray, Member of 
 Parliament and Under Secretary of State. 
 He was much engrossed in affairs, and 
 few men connected with the administra- 
 tion were more industrious or more use- 
 ful. He was a mighty master of detail, 
 and engaged perpetually in the collection 
 of facts ; while to him the digestion of a 
 blue-book was as keen an enjoyment, as 
 exhilarating an exercise, as the chase to 
 a Yorkshire squire. In finance he was
 
 to Lemuel, 
 
 esteemed an authority, his arithmetic was 
 plausible and Ingenious, but the fame of 
 a financier Is ephemeral, and excites no 
 enthusiasm even if it be conspicuous. 
 Finance touches the pockets of contem- 
 poraries, Its benefits are personal and 
 immediate for the most part, but even 
 they who profit are rarely Impressed, and 
 posterity Is seldom sensitive to the merits 
 of departed financiers. 
 
 In private life the case is the same. It 
 is well, Indeed, to have had a thrifty pro- 
 genitor in the family, but the chances are 
 that some prodigal of the race will be 
 pointed to as the more famous, even 
 more creditable ancestor. Finance never 
 yet made a hero nor statistics a states- 
 man, and thus it happened that James 
 Mowbray failed to create for himself a
 
 LeniMel. 6i 
 
 reputation commensurate with his efforts. 
 He aspired to high office, but had made 
 the mistake of constituting himself the 
 drudee of the Cabinet. It was the bar 
 that stood in the way of his advancement 
 to the Supreme Council of the sovereign 
 and the nation ; for his masters perceived 
 that his usefulness would not survive the 
 dignity. 
 
 Marcia Mowbray's ambition had been 
 crowned with more success. It was the 
 object and the occupation of her life to 
 secure social distinction, and she had, in 
 fact, achieved it by force of will and de- 
 termination, despite many obstacles. For 
 Marcia had a rough and ready manner 
 that stood in the way of her popularity 
 with the women, and she was plain 
 spoken to an extent that gave offence to
 
 62 Lemuel. 
 
 the men. She could be boisterous too on 
 occasion, and at times she romped in a 
 way that gave cause to the ribald to rail. 
 
 ' I can't abide that woman/ Lady Milll- 
 cent would remark over her breakfast- 
 table — ' she is so vul^rar.' 
 
 But Marcia Mowbray was not vulgar, 
 really ; it was only Lady Millicent's way 
 of putting it when she desired to avenge 
 herself for Marcia's brusqueness the night 
 before, coupled, it might be, with her own 
 want of success in the ballroom. 
 
 But in dealing with society Marcia had 
 a powerful lever to work with, and It 
 enabled her to overcome many difficulties, 
 for the Mowbray s had a fine house and 
 made a great display, and herein was a 
 cloak for a multitude of shortcomings. 
 Marcia did not, it is true, make the best
 
 Lemuel, 63 
 
 use of these advantages, for she was 
 economical to a fault, and thus lost on 
 the one hand much that she had gained 
 on the other. Her dinners were sumptu- 
 ously served, but they were more often 
 r^chaitjfds than recherchds ; and those who 
 were asked to join her little parties to 
 Richmond were expected to pay their 
 share of the reckoning. She was profuse 
 in her invitations to the play, but here 
 again her parsimony prevailed, for they 
 who accompanied her contributed to the 
 evening's amusement by depositing the 
 price of their stalls ere they left. And 
 herein Marcia Mowbray blundered. En- 
 joyments that are paid for are only half 
 appreciated, and no man regards with 
 grateful glances the tax-gatherer of the 
 supper- table.
 
 64 Lemuel, 
 
 Marcia had an only daughter — Egidia 
 — who had for ten years tempted to no 
 purpose the golden youth of the ball- 
 rooms. Her blandishments had been 
 vain, for, though men liked the girl, they 
 were scared at her mother, and the 
 trumpery tax scattered sentiment to the 
 winds. 
 
 At Richmond, Egidia had scarcely ex- 
 changed a word with Lemuel. They had 
 not been thrown together, but Lemuel had 
 attracted her notice in a marked degree 
 notwithstanding. There was a repose in 
 his manner, a deep, steady gaze in his 
 luminous dark eye that impressed her with 
 a sense of power. Her curiosity was 
 aroused ; there seemed to be so much 
 hidden beneath that calm, unemotional 
 exterior, much that might b:^ either good
 
 Lemuel. 65 
 
 or bad, interesting or commonplace, that 
 Egidia longed to draw aside the veil and 
 to know what he was really like ; for there 
 is nothing that excites the female mind 
 more than the placid, imperturbable gaze 
 of a good-looking man : it is maddening, 
 the women say. The pride that does 
 not condescend in a woman's presence,, 
 and is only scrupulously polite, brings her 
 to her knees. It is man taking his place 
 in nature, and forthwith woman assumes 
 hers. 
 
 Egidias eyes were henceforth often 
 directed towards Lemuel's, and when they 
 met she blushed involuntarily and turned 
 away looking conscious. She felt that she 
 could not hold her own with this man, 
 young as he was, and without experience 
 in the world ; she felt instinctively his 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 66 Lemuel. 
 
 inherent strength, and she knew from the 
 first that she could be nothing more than 
 a plaything in his hands. And it was 
 much the same with the women all round. 
 Even the anger of Daphne Bland told in 
 Lemuel's favour, for Daphne was con- 
 vinced now of his intellectual superiority, 
 and she admired the man the more that 
 she was vexed with herself. 
 
 The quiet reserve, the slightly cynical, 
 though deferential tone adopted by Lem- 
 uel, had interested the women intensely 
 in the good-looking youth ; and when to 
 this was added the whiff of impiety, the 
 fascination was complete, and the measure 
 of their curiosity full to overflowing. 
 
 The morning following the party at 
 Richmond, even before he had risen, 
 Lemuel's servant brought him a note.
 
 Lemuel. 67 
 
 * Mr and Mrs Bland request the honour 
 of Mr Leverson's company at dinner.' 
 
 ' First blood, by Jove ! ' Lemuel ex- 
 claimed, starting to his feet as he spoke. 
 ' I thought it would be so, I knew it 
 would be so. What ninepins they all 
 are ! Down they shall go one by one. 
 Defy, defeat, deride the women, and they 
 will worship you even as the Olympians 
 bowed down before the throne, or trembled 
 at the nod of Jupiter ! ' 
 
 Daphne Bland had a pretty little house 
 in Mayfair. Situate in one of those 
 streets where pretty little houses abound, 
 it had nothing to distinguish it exteriorly 
 from its neighbours ; but within it was 
 coquettish all over. When you entered 
 there was an atmosphere of refined luxury 
 that found expression in a profusion of
 
 68 Lemuel. 
 
 Turkish rugs and Persian mats and 
 screens from Japan ; and in the subdued 
 h'ghts were to be distinguished well- 
 stuffed sofas and cushions of eider down, 
 and quiet unpretending nooks and quaint 
 corners deftly arranged for two. It was 
 the house of a widow rather than a 
 married couple, and Daphne was in fact 
 enjoying in advance some part of that 
 freedom to which, in the course of nature, 
 she looked forward some day. Not that 
 her husband attempted to exercise over 
 her any unusual or unreasonable restraint, 
 if we may except the ban upon dancing ; 
 but she was tired of their quiet life to- 
 gether, their early hours, their silent 
 breakfasts, their wearisome dinners. When 
 her husband was confined to his room 
 with his periodical fit of the gout, Daphne
 
 Lemuel. 69 
 
 was wont to snap her fingers and make 
 holiday ; to her It was a rift in the 
 clouds, a glimpse of a better time to 
 come ; and a fast supper-party not un- 
 commonly marked the more acute stage 
 of his disorder. 
 
 Miniver Green was a prime favourite 
 on an occasion of this kind. Miniver was 
 a recognised flaneur and wit In society. 
 He had been a clergyman at one time ; 
 but having found the occupation un- 
 suitable, or, as was whispered by the 
 malicious, having been himself found to 
 be unsuited to the calling, was now a 
 noted man about town. On occasion, 
 however, Miniver could still maintain 
 much of the mien of his former pro- 
 fession when, for example, Mr Bland's 
 state of health permitted of his presence
 
 70 Lemuel. 
 
 at the dinner-table. But place Miniver 
 Green with a band of congenial revellers, 
 and nine companies out of ten would vote 
 him into the chair. 
 
 On the present occasion Bonnie Beau- 
 clerc was the only other guest. She was 
 a cousin of Daphne's, and had just come 
 forth from the nursery. Bonnie was a 
 lovely girl, tall and slight and fair as a 
 flower. She had, as yet, been seen but 
 little in society, and already the town was 
 talking and designating her as the belle 
 of the year. Of snowy white and extreme 
 simplicity was her attire, and she needed 
 no further adornment, for on her brow was 
 the garland of youth, and it was fairer 
 than the opal and the diamond. 
 
 Miniver Green sat by the hostess, while 
 Lemuel monopolised the attention of the
 
 Lemuel. 7 1 
 
 beautiful ddbutante. Mr Bland had the 
 gout. 
 
 * It is very inconvenient for the Mow- 
 brays,' Miniver remarked, 'this defeat of 
 the Government, for they seem to me to 
 exist upon their official position. They 
 remind me of the works of some of our 
 modern sculptors, whose statues never 
 seem capable of standing without the aid 
 of a prop provided for them to lean against.' 
 
 ' True,' said Daphne ; ' and should there 
 be a change in the Government, it would 
 make a considerable difference to the Mow- 
 brays. But, after all, they are wealthy ; 
 they will always keep a good house and a 
 French cook, and the world will continue 
 to appreciate such substantial elements of 
 enjoyment, even when no longer flavoured 
 with the seasoning of office.'
 
 72 Leiituel. 
 
 ' The politician out of place, and with 
 no very immediate or certain prospect of 
 return thereto, is discounted forthwith, if 
 he be not dishonoured,' said Miniver. 
 ' Should he be a duke it does not matter, 
 it is true ; but if he be a Commoner, the 
 fall may be fatal to him. Men are but 
 men, my dear Mrs Bland ; and women are 
 but women, you know.' 
 
 ' But Mowbray will be in the next Libe- 
 ral Cabinet ? ' inquired Daphne innocently. 
 
 'H'm! He might have been included 
 in the last for that matter,' continued 
 Miniver, ' but he wasn't. No ; for myself, 
 I think that Mowbray is played out.' 
 
 * You don't mean that ! ' 
 
 ' The fact is that Mowbray has been an 
 overrated man all his life,' said Miniver ; 
 ' and he has contrived to sustain the
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 popular delusion as to his talents by the 
 maintenance of a judicious silence. He 
 is not a deep thinker, he is a political 
 charlatan and a quack philosopher, — a 
 man that will leave literary remains.' 
 
 * Well, when one comes to think of it, I 
 grant that it is not easy to see what there 
 is in the man that he should be selected 
 to hold high office,' said Daphne ; ' and 
 as for his wife — ' 
 
 ' Charming woman ! ' Miniver exclaimed, 
 gazing into space as he spoke. ' Dear me ! 
 dear me ! She has her faults, but still she 
 is very charming, — delightful woman is 
 she not ? ' 
 
 * Well,' said Daphne petulantly, * you 
 seem to have made up your mind on that 
 point, and I have no desire to question 
 your taste ; but you will hardly find many
 
 74 Lemuel. 
 
 to agree with you. For myself, I think 
 Marcia Mowbray is the most objectionable 
 woman in London.' 
 
 ' Indeed !' 
 
 ' Oh, quite ; she is truly detestable,' said 
 Miss Beauclerc ; ' so rough, so vulgar, 
 you know.' 
 
 ' One would not tolerate her if it were 
 not for her husband's position, and all 
 that,' said Daphne. ' And then, to be 
 sure, she has a good house.' 
 
 'Such a good house!' echoed Miss 
 Beauclerc. ' But I should be sorry to be 
 her daughter and have to share it with her, 
 all the same.' 
 
 ' But may I ask the reason ? ' interrupted 
 Lemuel deferentially. 
 
 ' Oh, indeed you may,' Miss Beauclerc 
 replied. ' She is the most selfish — '
 
 Lemuel, 75 
 
 ' The most heartless,' added Daphne. 
 
 ' The most untruthful,' continued Miss 
 Beauclerc. 
 
 ' The most intriguing,' said Daphne. 
 
 ' Quite the most aggravating,' cried Miss 
 Beauclerc, stamping with her pretty little foot. 
 
 A loud knocking here interrupted the 
 further enumeration of Mrs Mowbray's 
 weaknesses, and in an instant that lady 
 herself, attired in gala costume, was shown 
 into the sitting-room. 
 
 ' My dearest !' exclaimed Daphne, cast- 
 ing her arms round Marcia Mowbray's neck. 
 
 ' My darling ! ' cried the latter, as she 
 turned to embrace Bonnie Beauclerc, who 
 fell into her arms. ' How fortunate I am 
 to find you both here. I called as I was 
 passing on my way to the Duchess of 
 Shetland's concert.'
 
 76 Lemuel. 
 
 ' Ah, then, we shall meet again to-night !' 
 Daphne exclaimed with ardour. * How 
 delightful ! ' 
 
 Lemuel had not been idle during this 
 scene ; he had gained a further insight 
 into the ways of society, and the more 
 he studied them the stranger the science 
 appeared to him, and the wider the field 
 for exploration. It is, indeed, a play- 
 ground for the wise, and to the winners in 
 the game the award is, perhaps, worth the 
 effort. This Lemuel understood, and that 
 the man who has society at his feet is 
 already on the road to distinction. And 
 to acquire distinction, see the footsore and 
 the weary travellers as they toil unceasingly 
 along the dusty highways of life ; it is 
 pitiable to contemplate their plight, in sun- 
 shine and storm alike. But for Lemuel
 
 Lemuel. 'jj 
 
 distinction was not to be thus achieved. 
 Let others attain It, If they may, by 
 laborious industry, or the drudgery of 
 an ordinary profession, he would scale the 
 high places by the leaps and bounds of 
 genius. For there was In him a reserve 
 of force such as when other men had 
 exhausted their powers would, he knew, 
 enable him to walk over their prostrate 
 forms and snatch the prize. Hence the 
 marvellous patience and imperturbable 
 temper with which he abided his time. 
 He knew that It would come, and he 
 awaited his turn with a cynical smile that 
 drove less gifted mortals to desperation. 
 Nay, more, he could Indulge his fancy for 
 fantastic eccentricity, and even then be 
 more than a match for the common-place 
 and the sober. To men of observation
 
 7 8 LemueL 
 
 he presented an interesting subject for 
 speculation ; to the methodical and the 
 dull he was an abomination and an offence. 
 Among the former Lemuel had fast friends, 
 even though they might hesitate to believe 
 in his eventual triumph ; but by the latter 
 he was hated and reviled. He repaid their 
 vituperation by brilliant abuse, which made 
 the world laugh, and it came to be under- 
 stood at length that Lemuel Leverson 
 was better let alone, he was not a man 
 whom it was safe to quarrel with. He 
 was regarded as one of those favourites of 
 fortune to whom success seems to come as 
 a habit ; to whom the worst that happens 
 is a check in the tide of prosperity, and 
 even that seems only to bring out in 
 stronger relief their ultimate victory. 
 The study of mankind was Lemuel's
 
 Lemuel. 79 
 
 daily occupation at this time. To humour 
 them, to flatter, and then to use them for a 
 purpose, were the aims he had constantly 
 in view. And to him they appeared to be 
 legitimate. He did but seize upon the 
 opportunities of life, which other men suf- 
 fered to pass by unheeded ; he made use 
 of the materials that every-day events 
 placed in his hands, and he did so without 
 injuring any man wantonly. The women 
 must be won to his side — that Lemuel 
 regarded as an essential element of success, 
 and he found it by far the easiest part of 
 his task. No good-looking young man 
 that lays himself out to please need have 
 misgiving on that point ; and Lemuel 
 had no sooner become known to society 
 than he was taken up by the women, and 
 welcomed with acclamation.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ^^^HE tinkling cymbals were in full 
 play, and Marcia Mowbray was 
 receiving her guests with lively 
 condescension at the top of her staircase, 
 when Lemuel bowed to the hostess of his 
 first ball. A continuous stream of the 
 best-dressed people in London was pass- 
 ing into the brilliantly-lighted rooms, and 
 Lemuel quickly found himself in the midst 
 of a multitude, wherein he did not recog- 
 nise one. An undefinable air of good 
 society pervaded the throng — everybody 
 perceived it, and everybody was pleased.
 
 Levtuel. 8 1 
 
 Those who frequented the best houses 
 habitually felt at their ease, and they who 
 found themselves in good company only 
 now and then felt flattered. A stranger 
 Is marked down at once in such an 
 assembly ; a new face Is scrutinised and 
 criticised, and each woman demands of 
 her neighbour, Who is this ? There is a 
 certain lull in the conversation as the un- 
 known draws near, for the common-place, 
 the platitude, even the scandal of the hour 
 has to be exchanged of a sudden for the 
 more interesting topic. The youth is 
 good-looking, perchance ; he may be wealthy 
 as well, — at least he may become the fashion, 
 and each and all of these are reasons why 
 he is to be received with civility. 
 
 Lemuel was as yet hardly of an age 
 for women to ask of each other whether 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 82 Lemuel. 
 
 he were married : that is the real attain- 
 ment of man's estate. But still, Who is 
 he ? Mrs Mowbray has been catechised 
 a dozen times at the least in the course 
 of the evening. 
 
 ' Mr Leverson, a friend of the Duchess 
 of Shetland,' is her constant reply. 
 
 The answer leaves little to be de- 
 sired, and Lemuel is presented in rapid 
 succession to rows of ball-giving matrons. 
 But it is whispered that he does not 
 dance. Presently he is observed to take 
 Egidia down to supper, and it is sur- 
 mised forthwith that he is a millionaire, 
 for Egidia had not been known to pa- 
 tronise thus the impecunious. The 
 rumour spreads with a rapidity that is 
 amazing, and, ere the dawn, but one 
 question remains to be solved. Is his
 
 Lemuel, 83 
 
 wealth already in possession or only in 
 expectancy ? It is the point upon which 
 society has been unable to make up its 
 mind, and the matrons are contradicting 
 each other, and nobody knows for cer- 
 tain. Crispeyn Caramel, who makes it 
 his business to know everything about 
 persons who are to be met with in 
 society, has it from a sure source that 
 Lemuel's father had died only the year 
 before, and that his capital invested in 
 sonsols yields a clear forty thousand 
 a-year. 
 
 More and more kindly grow the glan- 
 ces of the ball-giving rows of matrons 
 as the rumour circulates, and Lemuel is 
 quite a favourite already. 
 
 Egidia had been dancing with Lord 
 Cotswold, but she had danced with him
 
 84 Lemuel. 
 
 through ten seasons and nothing had 
 come of it. She was tired of Lord Cots- 
 wold. They met every night, and he 
 gaped and giggled from the beginning 
 of the ball to the end, supper alone ex- 
 cepted, and then he gobbled. It was 
 with real pleasure that Egidia exchanged 
 his society for Lemuel's in the supper- 
 room, whence, instead of returning to the 
 dance, Egidia wandered with her partner 
 into the conservatory. 
 
 For a London house the conservatory 
 was of unusual extent, and it was pleas- 
 antly arranged wath sofas and easy- 
 chairs half hidden beneath the tall ferns 
 and giant fuchsias. The lights in shaded 
 lanterns shed a mild glow round the 
 place, less silvern than the moon's ray, 
 and hardly more luminous.
 
 Lemtiel. 85 
 
 In the centre a trickling fountain cast 
 its threads of crystal into a tiny dell of 
 moss and lichen, whence the stream 
 passed with a gentle murmur into a bason 
 of alabaster, while from a distance came 
 the strain of Weber's soft music, that 
 seemed to breathe love and to inspire 
 passion at every bar. Like the breath 
 of a summer wind it rose and fell, and 
 the time was marked continuously by 
 the beat of the dancers' feet. 
 
 To Lemuel, who was keenly alive to 
 the beautiful, and was moved by music 
 as by no other influence, the sensation 
 was entrancing. What if there had been 
 by his side such a one as he had often- 
 times imagined to himself in the sweet 
 summer nights when the moon was at 
 the full ? Or such a face as we have
 
 86 Lemuel. 
 
 most of us seen for an instant in some 
 crowded street, it may have been, never 
 to be found again in all our life after ; 
 a face in which all heaven seemed open, 
 wherein all that is lovable on earth was 
 contained ? Egidia could not boast any 
 of these charms, but the illusion of the 
 hour was dispelled altogether when her 
 pointed questions indicated unmistakably 
 a desire to ascertain the amount of 
 Lemuel's worldly possessions, both im- 
 mediate and prospective. 
 
 If he had suffered dreamy sentiment to 
 overshadow him for a moment under the 
 influences surrounding him, he was quickly 
 recalled to himself by Egidias sharp ac- 
 cents that fell upon his ear with the rattle 
 of the cash-box. Egidia had been struck 
 by the young man's beauty, and even 
 
 I
 
 Lemuel. Sy 
 
 fancied she had experienced the first 
 beginnings of love, but she had served 
 no vain apprenticeship ; Marcia Mow- 
 bray's lessons had not been lost upon 
 her daughter ; Egidia had ever proved a 
 ready pupil. It was not the man that 
 had to be sought, it was his gold ; it was 
 not the heart that had to be searched, it 
 was the pocket. With the practised skill 
 of an adept Egidia applied the searching 
 probe, and not even the latent fear which 
 cowed her in the presence of this man 
 made her hesitate when the quest was 
 for gold. The diagnosis was unsatis- 
 factory, and from that hour Lemuel was 
 relegated to the second category of the 
 young men of the ballroom, that of the 
 acceptable, but not marriageable youths 
 who amuse and enliven, are agreeable to
 
 Leinuel. 
 
 sup with, and eligible to fill up the inter- 
 vals of the dinner-table which the eldest 
 sons have vacated. 
 
 But Egidia's newly-acquired information 
 had not as yet become common property, 
 and the matrons still smiled encouragingly, 
 and their eyes twinkled covetously when 
 Lemuel reappeared in their midst. Their 
 eyes grew brighter, indeed ; but it is not 
 by woman's eyes that a man should be 
 guided. Observe the lines that play round 
 her mouth : there is the truth made mani- 
 fest ; there is the expressive feature. She 
 cannot conceal them if she would : they 
 are the ever-faithful witnesses even of the 
 faithless. But as the season advances the 
 enthusiasm of the matrons grows cool, for 
 Crispeyn Caramel has been better advised; 
 Lemuel has been weighed in the scales
 
 Lemuel. 89 
 
 and found wanting, and his place in society 
 is stereotyped from that hour. 
 
 To Lemuel the bye-play of the matrons 
 and the subtlety of the maidens had been 
 as a whole library of instructive know- 
 ledge, for beneath that impassive mien, 
 that silent gaze Into space, there glowed 
 a keen and watchful spirit. He had ob- 
 served their action from the beginning. 
 He had seen their struesfles for informa- 
 tion, and enjoyed their chagrin when they 
 came to know the whole truth, and to 
 discover that they had overreached them- 
 selves and been cajoled. 
 
 While men and women played and 
 plotted Lemuel laboured and reasoned, 
 laughed and grew serious, but no feature 
 moved. With the majority of women 
 Lemuel was too reticent to be quite a
 
 90 Lemuel. 
 
 favourite ; but to the few for whom the 
 veil was drawn aside in part the depth 
 and the variety of his humour had a 
 resistless charm. To none was his whole 
 nature revealed ; from the most intimate 
 there was still a reserved side of his inner 
 self that kept alive an interest and a curi- 
 osity which were heightened by the flights of 
 exuberant fancy, wherewith at unexpected 
 moments he would startfe and astonish. 
 For Lemuel there were in the regions of 
 thought immeasurable solitudes, rich with 
 fantastic growths of the imagination ; 
 peaks that touched heaven, valleys too 
 profound for human eye to penetrate 
 their uttermost abysses. He looked over 
 the heads of other men, and beheld a 
 never-ending prospect of which they knew 
 nothinor, whose shadows alternated with
 
 Lemuel. 9 1 
 
 the meridian sun, a rep:ion filled with 
 delight, and the perpetual joys of an 
 abounding fancy. Men said he was 
 eccentric ; but eccentricity would seem 
 to be the almost necessary adjunct of 
 genius ; for how can the gifted mind 
 accommodate itself to the level of the 
 dull ? Fly from the beaten tracks of 
 men ; dive into the depths of primeval 
 forests ; abandon the valley and the plain 
 for the skies of the Alps or the Andes, 
 and you are classed with the eccentric of 
 mankind. You alarm your friends ; they 
 are concerned for your sanity, and they 
 can with difficulty sustain the even tenor 
 of their way in your company. ' What 
 will he not attempt next ? ' cry the staid 
 ones. ' Let us be on our guard ; let us 
 arm ourselves against him,' they say, ' with
 
 92 Lemuel. 
 
 the triple brass of sedulous sobriety.' 
 But genius, unconcerned, advances on 
 its lofty course, and its head is among 
 the stars. Aside, ye groundlings ! Give 
 place ; for a king of men passeth on his 
 way ! 
 
 Before the season had come to an end, 
 Daphne Bland was a widow. The last 
 attack of the gout had proved fatal to 
 her husband, and Daphne sat behind her 
 pink blinds peering at the visitors that 
 called to condole with her affliction. 
 
 As soon as the obsequies had been 
 duly celebrated, Lemuel attended to per- 
 form the same polite duty, and to his 
 surprise was told that Mrs Bland would 
 see him. 
 
 Lemuel was shown into a room that 
 had been partially darkened, and he had
 
 Lemuel. 93 
 
 not waited for the space of a minute when 
 a door opened, and Daphne Bland made 
 her appearance. 
 
 A tightly-fitting robe of black, over- 
 spread with crape, displayed her neat 
 figure to advantage, and a white tuft of 
 the same material prettily relieved her 
 clustering brown hair. 
 
 ' It is very kind of you to call,' said 
 Daphne, holding forth her hand ; ' indeed, 
 my friends have all been very kind to me. 
 Pray, sit down.' 
 
 The widow placed herself upon the 
 sofa, with her back to the light, and beck- 
 oned to Lemuel to take his place by her 
 side. 
 
 ' You may be surprised at my desiring 
 a personal interview at this time,' said 
 Daphne. * Probably you did not expect
 
 94 Lemuel. 
 
 to see me ; but a woman feels very much 
 alone in the world at a moment such as 
 this, and she cannot be expected to 
 confine herself altogether to the society 
 of her servants and her solicitor. I have 
 very few relatives, and they are, for the 
 most part, too widely scattered to be 
 available either to assist or to console.' 
 
 Here Daphne paused for a moment, 
 and then resumed. 
 
 ' You cannot imagine what a change 
 it makes in a woman's life to be thus 
 suddenly thrown upon the world, and to 
 find that unwelcome independence that 
 leaves her mistress of herself and of her 
 fortunes. I am quite unnerved at times 
 when I contemplate my position.' 
 
 Daphne moved uneasily in her seat 
 as she referred to her isolated state ;
 
 Lemuel. 95 
 
 and Lemuel continued togaze steadily at her, 
 trying to divine the drift of her discourse. 
 
 * I have, it is true, an experienced man 
 of business in the person of my solicitor,' 
 continued Daphne ; ' but, then, a lawyer is 
 only a lawyer, you understand; he won't 
 incur the responsibility of giving advice, 
 save only on a point of law. His fee does 
 not cover more than that ; the rest is the 
 office of friendship that has no price ; and 
 with sentiment he declares the law has 
 nothing to do. I am desolate ; I am 
 almost desponding.' 
 
 Daphne rested her head on her right 
 hand as she thus gave expression to her 
 feelings, and a deep sigh escaped her. 
 
 Lemuel looked on in silence. He was 
 wondering to himself still what was her 
 object in seeking this interview.
 
 96 Lemuel. 
 
 * Women are so dependent,' Daphne 
 added ; ' men are so helpful, when they 
 care to be so/ 
 
 ' If,' interrupted Lemuel, lest his silence 
 should be misunderstood, ' there are any 
 means by which I can be of service, pray 
 command me.' 
 
 ' Oh,' said Daphne, * you are, I know, 
 the kindest of friends, and would, I am 
 assured, aid me if I needed help. I should 
 not have sought this interview had I not 
 been convinced of that' 
 
 Daphne's voice faltered here, and a 
 little convulsive sob impeded her utter- 
 ance. 
 
 Lemuel was at a loss more than ever to 
 conjecture her meaning ; he regarded her 
 with increasing interest. It could not. 
 surely, be that she hinted at marriage ?
 
 Lemuel. 97 
 
 Why, her husband had not been a week in 
 the grave. The notion was incredible. 
 
 * It is a great trial,' Daphne continued. 
 * My husband has left me everything — 
 everything that he possessed, without con- 
 dition or reserve, and I fear that I am not 
 equal to the responsibility of it. Indeed, I 
 am overwhelmed.' ' 
 
 * You need the services of an agent 
 whom you can trust,' said Lemuel. 
 
 * More than that,' Daphne replied, with 
 a sigh ; ' much more. I need one by my 
 side to whom I might confide unreservedly 
 my cares and anxieties. If I thought that 
 you would consent,' continued Daphne, 
 looking nervously on the ground ; * if I 
 thought that you would not refuse — ' 
 
 Here Daphne's hesitation increased, 
 and to Lemuel it appeared as if, indeed, 
 
 VOL. T G
 
 98 Lemuel . 
 
 the day of his destiny had arrived of a 
 sudden. Did she really mean to suggest 
 marriage ? Lemuel had only come to de- 
 posit a card, to make a civil inquiry ; he 
 was not prepared to find himself brought 
 face to face with the grand question of life, 
 to bound, as it were, into the middle stage 
 of existence, without a moment's warning. 
 But Daphne w^as wealthy, and Lemuel 
 well understood that riches are the steps 
 whereby men ascend most readily the lad- 
 der of fame. It was not for him to refuse. 
 The opportunity was a brilliant one, and 
 he was not going to suffer any of the 
 chances of life to pass him by. He would 
 be true to his destiny. To many a man 
 there comes a moment In life, a turn In 
 the tide of existence, when all depends 
 upon a yes or a no. To Lemuel it seemed
 
 Lemuel. 99 
 
 as if such an hour had struck for him. At 
 a glance he took in the whole situation ; 
 his mind was made up ; and, with a com- 
 posure that might almost have been mis- 
 taken for indifference, he awaited the 
 sequel of Daphne's speech. 
 
 * You will not be angry with me/ she 
 continued, playing with a fold of the crape 
 on her gown as she spoke ; * I trust our 
 acquaintance is sufficiently intimate to 
 excuse what I am about to say ? ' 
 
 * I am sure that nothing you can say, 
 dear Mrs Bland, would make me angry,' 
 replied Lemuel, who was now close beside 
 her on the sofa. 
 
 * I have thought over the many who 
 have flattered, perhaps admired me,' said 
 Daphne, blushing slightly. ' I have seen 
 through their interested motives ; but in
 
 lOO Lemuel. 
 
 you I have noticed an independence, a 
 high-minded self-respect — ' 
 
 * It is even as I conjectured/ thought 
 Lemuel. ' It is destiny — it Is fate.' 
 
 * Yes, do not hesitate to answer me truly/ 
 Daphne continued, looking with an air of 
 entreaty at Lemuel, who was now pre- 
 paring to throw himself, after the orthodox 
 fashion, at her feet, — ' if I ask you to be — 
 my private secretary/
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 KEMUEL was not a favourite 
 with Crispeyn Caramel. To 
 him, indeed, Lemuel was no 
 longer the same man, since it had trans- 
 pired that he was heir to only a modest 
 inheritance. Crispeyn understood wealth, 
 and he understood high connection, but 
 outside and beyond these two, he desired 
 no friends. 
 
 With Crispeyn, who had the ear of 
 society, it rested to a great extent to make 
 or to mar the career of a young man in 
 the world of fashion. And society trusted
 
 I02 Lemuel, 
 
 Grispeyn implicitly — It detected In him the 
 instinct of safe mediocrity that never rises 
 above a convenient level, and It recognised 
 that he was not likely to introduce within 
 its borders any incongruous element. That 
 he should have committed the mistake of 
 presenting Lemuel to his friends as a mil- 
 lionaire was, Crispeyn conceived, damag- 
 ing to his reputation, and he resented the 
 self-imposed deception accordingly. 
 
 Crispeyn was himself well connected ; 
 but, being a younger son and very poor, 
 was deferential in the presence of the pos- 
 sessors of riches. He bowed to the ground 
 before the bankers, the blue blood of Lom- 
 bard Street and Cornhlll, and at their feet 
 he poured invitations for ball and concert 
 with the fecundity of a cornucopia. In 
 the city, Crispeyn was regarded as a mes-
 
 Lemuel. 103 
 
 senger from the gods, whilst by the ball- 
 giving mothers of the West End he was wel- 
 comed as tout for the rich traders of the East. 
 Intellectually, Crispeyn was poorly en- 
 dowed, but his social qualifications were of 
 a higher order ; indeed, they were at once 
 singular and special. All his spare time 
 was taken up in the acquisition and trans- 
 mission of social knowledge, and the pro- 
 motion and arranorement of social slather- 
 ings. No rumour of the streets escaped 
 his ears ; no scandal afflicted society that 
 was not retailed by his lips. With the 
 elderly women, who were no longer able 
 to scavenge the town for themselves, Cris- 
 peyn was a mighty favourite — into their 
 ears he poured the loose gossip of the day, 
 as they reclined in their easy-chairs, or 
 chuckled on their well-padded couches, and
 
 104 Lemuel. 
 
 Crispeyn's information was the best of its 
 kind. It was delivered in the voice of an 
 infant, indeed, but it was in its way both 
 racy and refined. In society, he had suc- 
 ceeded in creating for himself a position 
 which was unique ; by the men, it is true, 
 he was contemned for his effeminacy, but 
 the women were his friends, and to the 
 world at large he was known as the 
 Dowager's Delight. 
 
 For such as he, the presence of genius 
 has a secret terror in it ; and for them it 
 only remains to shuffle out of sight, or to 
 lapse into silence. There is an end of 
 their peace ; they wither away and sub- 
 side, and gather into corners, and of their 
 light and airy conversation not even a 
 whisper survives. There is a disturbing 
 element present, and it must be removed ;
 
 Lemuel. lo- 
 
 genius must be banished at any cost from 
 the region of finical frivolity, for 
 
 * Blockheads with reason wicked wits abhor : ' 
 
 and the Crispeyns must live and pursue 
 their calling. 
 
 Crispeyn Caramel felt that he was over- 
 matched and outweighted in Lemuel's pres- 
 ence. Lemuel was silent and reserved, 
 but it was the reticence of a power that 
 gathered, and was all the more irresistible 
 when the time came to strike. It was a 
 positive pain to Crispeyn to find himself 
 in the same company with Lemuel at last, 
 and it was in vain that he essayed to 
 assume an attitude of indifference. He 
 determined to relieve himself at a blow 
 of the presence of a man whom he had 
 learnt to regard as at once a difficulty and 
 a danger.
 
 io6 LeuiueL 
 
 ) 
 
 Warily Crispeyn went to work, for it 
 needed circumspection, and a premature 
 discovery might have been attended by 
 consequences fatal to himself; he might 
 have been scorched by a flash such as of 
 old proceeded from Olympus. But Cris- 
 peyn knew his trade, — therein he was no 
 mean artist, — and soon the whisper ran 
 from house to house that Lemuel was an 
 adventurer. Society shies at the word, 
 and coils itself up, as it were, at the bare 
 mention of it; society shrinks and shudders 
 like the sensitive plant at the touch of the 
 adventurer. The rumour runs, and, as a 
 rule, you cannot trace whence it comes ; 
 but its victim dies assuredly, unless he can 
 crush it with his heel. Soon the festive 
 banquets are no more, and the ballrooms 
 close, and the three-cornered notes cease
 
 Lemuel. 107 
 
 to fall like a shower on his writing-table. 
 A plague has stricken him, and he is 
 become an unholy thing, with which it is 
 not seemly for the well-behaved to come 
 into contact. 
 
 The chill In the social atmosphere soon 
 made itself felt, and to Lemuel's quick 
 perception its effects were immediately 
 apparent. He was not for a moment in 
 doubt as to Its author ; Lemuel could have 
 laid his hand upon him from the first, and 
 from that hour kept him steadily In view. 
 Crispeyn tittled and tattled and whispered 
 malice, and Lemuel waited for him with 
 saturnine serenity. 
 
 And now, to crown his offences, Lemuel 
 had entered Into Intimate relations with 
 Daphne Bland. Crispeyn had himself 
 cast eyes upon the widow from the first,
 
 io8 Lemuel. 
 
 but he had been forestalled and outrun, it 
 seemed, by this adventurer. Daphne was 
 young, she was well-bornand good-looking, 
 and now wealthy as well. To Crispeyn it 
 appeared that the position taken up by 
 Lemuel as the youthful widow's confidant 
 and secretary was fraught with a twofold 
 danger — the one to society, the other to 
 himself. As chief director and arbiter of 
 social life at its centre, Crispeyn regarded 
 it as a part of his duty to discountenance 
 and disallow matrimonial alliances from 
 which society would be liable to receive a 
 shake and a shock. It was a reflection 
 upon himself, he thought, that a young 
 woman situated as Daphne was should 
 marry out of the social set ; that she should 
 run imminent risk of falling into the hands 
 of a Hebrew adventurer, caused him a
 
 Lemuel. 109 
 
 perceptible shudder. But in this case 
 Crispeyn had, as we have said, a deeper 
 motive still that urged him to action. He 
 wanted the widow for himself, and success 
 was, he felt, out of the question so long as 
 Lemuel sat by her side. He had even a 
 misgiving as to whether Lemuel did not 
 owe him a grudge — had not found him out, 
 in fact — and his conscience suggested as 
 much; but the prize was worth the winning 
 at all hazards, and Crispeyn had been too 
 successful in life to be disheartened where 
 only an adventurer stood in his way. 
 
 Lemuel had quickly made himself master 
 of the details of Daphne's affairs. The 
 property was considerable, both in real 
 and personal possessions, and Daphne 
 welcomed gratefully the relief to her mind 
 which she had experienced from Lemuel's
 
 no Lemuel. 
 
 careful and energetic management. But 
 her peace was not to be undisturbed. 
 Rumours had commenced to circulate re- 
 flecting on Daphne's Intimacy with Lemuel. 
 The whispered scandal had not as yet In- 
 deed reached her ears, and by Lemuel It 
 was encountered with scornful defiance. 
 Again the Idle report seemed to have died 
 away for lack of substance, when one day, 
 on entering Daphne's sitting-room, Lemuel 
 perceived that she had been weeping. An 
 open letter lay upon the table before her, 
 and, on perceiving Lemuel's presence. 
 Daphne buried her face In her hands and 
 sobbed aloud. 
 
 Lemuel was at a loss to conjecture what 
 might be the cause of this sudden outburst 
 of grief; he attributed it to some reminis- 
 cence of her past life which had, perchance,
 
 Lemuel. i i i 
 
 been recalled to memory, and he attempted 
 to withdraw ; but Daphne, looking up with 
 streaming eyes, made a sign to him to 
 approach. She pointed to the letter that 
 lay before her, and again her tears flowed 
 freely. 
 
 " Situated as you are," the letter ran, 
 " you can hardly be too circumspect. 
 Your reputation is dear to your friends, 
 but Is now In great peril. The world is 
 talking uncharitably ; do not give colour 
 to calumny, but remove the excuse for it 
 without delay. You cannot mistake its 
 
 origm. 
 
 Lemuel read the letter a second time, 
 and with deliberation ; a shadow passed 
 over his countenance, his eyes gleamed 
 with a little more light perhaps, and his 
 lips were more firmly compressed than
 
 1 1 2 LemMcl. 
 
 before, but no other sign was there that 
 the contents of the letter had affected him. 
 As was his habit, however, his resolution 
 was taken without a moment's hesitation. 
 
 ' My dear Mrs Bland, I think you should 
 feel that you are indebted in some measure 
 to this writer,' said Lemuel calmly, ' for he 
 has brought to your knowledge a circum- 
 stance of which it was necessary that you 
 should be made aware sooner or later. 
 Reports have been circulated to your 
 detriment, founded upon the relations in 
 which we stand to each other. You may 
 be surprised that such should be the case, 
 but now that they display a certain per- 
 sistency, it is better that I should withdraw 
 from the position which I hold in connec- 
 tion with your affairs. You must risk 
 nothing on my account.'
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 In an instant Daphne had risen to her 
 feet. 
 
 ' I will never yield to this infamous 
 chatter/ she cried, brushing away the tears 
 from her beautiful eyes ; ' I will hurl 
 the slander back upon those who invented 
 it. No ; let them come and accuse me to 
 my face, if they dare. I will never give 
 way before backhanded calumny ! ' 
 
 Seizing the letter as she spoke, Daphne 
 tore it to fragments and cast them to the 
 winds. 
 
 ' I honour the spirit which dictates such 
 sentiments,' said Lemuel ; ' it is worthy of 
 you ; but he that is capable of slandering 
 a woman anonymously, is not more likely 
 to come forth at her bidding and show 
 himself in the light of day, than to mteet 
 her defender at the sword's point. I owe 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 114 Lemuel. 
 
 you a duty ; allow me to perform it : I am 
 no longer your private secretary.' 
 
 Daphne understood Lemuel's' spirit of 
 determination too well to attempt to re- 
 sist, or to induce him to recede from the 
 decision at which he had arrived deliber- 
 ately. She would have surrendered 
 gladly the half of her possessions to 
 have laid her hand on the anonymous 
 scribbler, and dragged him into the 
 light. As it was, she had but to yield, 
 however unwillingly, to circumstances 
 that were too strong for her, and to 
 do so with such grace as she might. 
 But with Lemuel the case was other- 
 wise. From the first he was satisfied 
 in his own mind as to the authorship 
 of the letter, and proof only was needed 
 to enable him to inflict condign punish-
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 ment. To obtain this might, indeed, 
 be a task of some difficulty, but that 
 the proof would be forthcoming all in 
 good time, Lemuel did not permit him- 
 self for a moment to doubt.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 'ORD BEAUPORT was the 
 eldest son of the Earl of 
 Corfe. He was a young man of 
 ability, and capable of acquiring distinc- 
 tion in any line wherein he chose to 
 exert his talents. He had gone through 
 the usual course at Eton and at Oxford, 
 and had displayed, after a fitful and 
 capricious fashion, his superiority to his 
 fellows. But Lord Beauport was, above 
 all things, an indolent man. Fond of 
 pleasure, the exertion of earnest appli- 
 cation and honest work was distasteful
 
 Lemuel. i t 7 
 
 to him. He was extremely good-looking 
 and perfectly good-tempered, a favourite 
 with men and women alike. As Member 
 of Parliament for the little county town 
 of Bedborough, he had sat in the House 
 of Commons for some years, taking part 
 rarely, however, in the business of the 
 House. His career in Parliament was, 
 in fact, a continuation of his career at 
 the university — without any settled pur- 
 pose. He took up questions fitfully, and 
 treated them fancifully ; he was seldom 
 at pains to investigate them thoroughly. 
 The House of Commons recognises at 
 a glance a flaneur of this kind ; he is 
 assessed at his true value, and his words 
 carry no weight. It laughs at his pleas- 
 antries, for it is a singularly good- 
 humoured assembly, and it appreciates
 
 1 1 8 Lemuel. 
 
 his points, but it is impervious to his 
 appeals, and is unmoved by his philippics. 
 
 It was thus that Lord Beauport failed 
 to make any considerable figure in Par- 
 liament. He was himself conscious of 
 the effect of his levity, and resented it 
 at times ; for there were moments when 
 he would have his words taken seri- 
 ously. But he found the House unre- 
 lenting. 
 
 The stage in life had now arrived, 
 however, when, in the opinion of his 
 family and of his friends, it was incum- 
 bent upon Lord Beauport to marry ; 
 and, on the whole, he was disposed to 
 agree with them. His life hitherto had 
 been wayward and unsatisfactory, and 
 he welcomed the change which marriage 
 involved. It is an occasion upon which
 
 Lemuel. i 19 
 
 a man may alter his habit of Hfe if he 
 will, and it is, as a rule, a man's last 
 chance of reform. The man of evil 
 habits who marries and lives as before 
 is usually past rederhption ; but the world 
 is disposed to take him at his word 
 should he be serious. If he has been a 
 drunkard, men will not laugh though he 
 talk of becoming sober ; and should he have 
 been a spendthrift, no man sneers when 
 it is said that he is now careful. 
 
 Lord Beauport had been extravagant, 
 it is true, but not excessively so, and he 
 was heir to a great estate. By society 
 he had ever been welcomed as the first 
 of blessings, and the matrons and the 
 maidens were radiant in his company ; 
 but their blandishments had been un- 
 attended by success — Lord Beauport
 
 I20 Lemuel. 
 
 would not marry until a fitting time had 
 arrived, and then he would choose for 
 himself. And he would choose deliber- 
 ately — he would not be driven ; and 
 herein it was that the matrons and the 
 maidens had made a mistake. They 
 tried to take him by escalade when 
 stratagem had failed ; and the ladders 
 were produced, and the forlorn hope was 
 told off for a desperate venture. It was 
 at this time when, alarmed at the violence 
 of . the assault, that Lord Beauport re- 
 newed his acquaintance with Daphne 
 Bland. 
 
 Fresh from the seclusion of widow- 
 hood, she encountered old friends timor- 
 ously at first. Widowhood is, in fact, 
 for the young, a reintroduction to so- 
 ciety with greater freedom than the first,
 
 Lemuel. 1 2 1 
 
 and with greater experience. It com- 
 bines shyness with confidence, it dispenses 
 with protection, and yet seems to appeal 
 for it. And herein is the secret of the 
 widow's success. The girl trusts to her 
 good looks, her sweet and tender ways, 
 to gain man's heart; but the widow pleads 
 her widowhood, she appeals to man's 
 natural function as woman's protector, 
 and the widow carries the day. 
 
 Daphne was wealthy now, and she 
 was ambitious. From behind her pink 
 blinds she had watched the pretenders 
 to her hand as they trooped to her 
 threshhold, and she laughed when she 
 saw them. But with Lord Beauport she 
 was serious. He was precisely the sort 
 of man that most readily engages a 
 woman's interest — nay, it may be, sets
 
 122 Lemuel. 
 
 her heart in a flame — a handsome scape- 
 grace. She longs to try what she can 
 make of him — to reform him, as she 
 says — and to have the credit as well as 
 the pleasure of the task. Lord Beauport's 
 faults were grave, Daphne knew, but 
 there was a foundation of easy-going 
 good nature and thriftless generosity to 
 work upon. It was wantonness rather 
 than vice that had to be overcome ; 
 and where a man's heart yet beats with 
 undiminished warmth, no woman need 
 despair. It is her opportunity, and she 
 knows that, if she will it, she can, sooner 
 or later, make him what she would. 
 
 Daphne had made up her mind now, 
 and a little more than a year had elapsed 
 from the date of her husband's death, 
 when she made the final move in
 
 Lemuel. 123 
 
 the game of life, and the marriage was 
 formally announced. In the face of the 
 matrons and the maidens, Daphne bore 
 away Lord Beauport in triumph, and 
 society welcomed the event with a shout. 
 For the alliance was suitable and en regie 
 according to its canons, and soon the con- 
 gratulations commenced to pour in even 
 more thickly than the previous condolences. 
 And now Daphne is above and beyond 
 the world's reproaches once more ; she 
 has succeeded in life and the world is 
 full of her praises, and the Crispeyns 
 are cowed and chased away, or fawn for 
 her friendship. But Daphne is not de- 
 ceived. She understands the world's 
 worship and what it is worth, and she 
 smiles blandly and nods benignantly to 
 the worshippers one by one.
 
 124 Lemuel. 
 
 Soon after Lord Beauport's marriage 
 there was a change in the Government, 
 and, for party reasons, it was considered 
 necessary to include Lord Corfe's son in 
 the new Administration. Lord Beauport 
 was decidedly clever, and he could be 
 eloquent when he cared to undergo the 
 necessary exertion ; but he was indolent 
 past belief, and his appointment as Under 
 Secretary of State was regarded in minis- 
 terial circles as but a sop to Cerberus. 
 The susceptibilities of the family had to 
 be considered ; it was intended to be a 
 recognition of the unsparing use which 
 Lord Corfe had made of his inherited 
 influence in favour of the Government 
 candidates at the elections ; a recompense 
 which the steady loyalty of his house to 
 the party had amply merited. But nobody
 
 Lemuel. 1 2 5 
 
 expected that Lord Beaupore would be 
 seen the less at Epsom or at Newmarket 
 by reason of his engagements at Whitehall. 
 As Under Secretary, Lord Beauport's 
 duties were neither onerous nor responsible, 
 for the head of the department was In the 
 Cabinet, and a man of energy and talent. 
 The Under Secretaryship was such an 
 appointment as an earnest aspirant to 
 statesmanship might have coveted, for 
 here was to be acquired, under an able 
 master, the art and mystery of Govern- 
 ment. And the trick of it has to be 
 learnt, as In the case of other arts, for 
 neither do men become statesmen per 
 saltum ; success remains with the indus- 
 trious. Detail has to be studied at and 
 worked up laboriously, until the broad 
 conclusions acquire shape and sym-
 
 126 Lemuel. 
 
 metrical form that are to constitute the 
 basis of action. But an idle man follows 
 his fancy, and arrives at conclusions with- 
 out hearing the evidence ; hence he 
 blunders and falls into disrepute. If he 
 be eloquent, he may stave off the evil day, 
 and if he be clever, he will always have 
 a following, but his career will end in 
 failure nevertheless. 
 
 To James Mowbray, who had been 
 his immediate predecessor in office, Lord 
 Beauport had recourse for some prelimin- 
 ary guidance. 
 
 ' The duties are easy enough,' Mowbray 
 replied, 'but you must not attempt to 
 perform them yourself — that is for the 
 department, recollect. It is essential, 
 moreover, that you should have Rounde- 
 lay on your side.'
 
 Lemuel. 127 
 
 * Roundelay ! and pray, who is Rounde- 
 lay ? ' inquired his lordship. 
 
 ' Roundelay is the veteran chief clerk, 
 said Mowbray, ' and a veritable rhada- 
 manthus with his subordinates, but silver- 
 tongued as a Siren to those in authority over 
 him. The fact is,' continued Mowbray, who 
 had never been on good terms with his sub- 
 ordinates, 'you will find that the office is com- 
 posed of snobs and fools for the most part, and 
 Roundelay reigns as king of his company.' 
 
 ' You mean that he is the greatest snob 
 and fool of the number ? ' 
 
 ' Precisely. But Roundelay has some 
 conspicuous qualities. Should the depart- 
 ment oppose your views. Roundelay will 
 be found ready to betray his colleagues at 
 the shortest notice, to pander or to peach 
 at pleasure. Therein lies his value.'
 
 128 Le^nuel. 
 
 ' But why should we tolerate such a 
 creature ? ' exclaimed Lord Beauport with 
 the innocence of an official neophyte ; 'why 
 soil our fingers by the contact ? ' 
 
 ' It is statecraft, my dear friend, state- 
 craft that demands the sacrifice at our hands. 
 " Divide et impera,'' you know ; it is an 
 old maxim, and you will discover ere long 
 that it is a wise one. Were the permanent 
 officials united, the political changelings 
 sent to preside over them w^ould be 
 worsted at every turn. Remember to 
 maintain your balance of forces, and for 
 that end make Roundelay your own. 'Tis 
 easily done. He was mine for the pro- 
 mise of a knighthood, which he has not 
 obtained. Had we remained in office, 
 I should have had to pay the debt ; 
 as it is, I am absolved, and pass the
 
 Lemuel, 129 
 
 obligation on to you. Dangle it before 
 his eyes till they are dazzled, but keep the 
 toy well out of reach until you yourself 
 have no further use for it.' 
 
 Lord Beauport had no sooner entered 
 on his office than it devolved upon him 
 to select a private secretary. This is 
 not a simple piece of patronage — a mere 
 appanage of office to be conferred upon 
 the first favourite — as some suppose ; to 
 a man of Lord Beauport's habit, the 
 selection of a secretary becomes a matter 
 of paramount importance. His credit, 
 no less than his convenience, is con- 
 cerned, and to him it may make the 
 difference between success or failure in 
 office. It was without hesitation that, 
 acting on Daphne's advice, Lord Beauport 
 offered the place to Lemuel Leverson. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 1 30 Lemuel. 
 
 To Daphne this arrangement was pecu- 
 liarly grateful, for it presented the opportu- 
 nity of making amends to the man who had 
 suffered in reputation for her sake. And 
 for Lemuel himself, the position had peculiar 
 attractions. Henceforth he was not to be 
 a spectator only, he became a participator, 
 as It were — an active agent in the drama 
 of government ; he passed, so to speak, 
 behind the scenes, from that hour, as one 
 of the dramatis personcs. 
 
 By Lemuel, indeed, the value of his 
 new position was thoroughly appreciated ; 
 it was his opportunity, and he understood 
 how to turn it to account. Lord Beauport, 
 on the other hand, treated his promotion 
 with his accustomed levity. To him 
 the whole system of government was but 
 a play — a comedy all through — and in
 
 Lemtiel, 1 3 1 
 
 this view, the piece that failed to amuse 
 was least likely to hold the boards. He 
 laughed when men spoke seriously of 
 statecraft ; to him the rulers were but 
 comedians ever busy at their calling. 
 
 The ropes are pulled lustily, and the 
 scenes creak on their hinges, as they are 
 shifted this way and that ; and the co- 
 medians watch and wait and scan the 
 faces of the crowd whom they delude and 
 dazzle, and listen eagerly to catch the 
 applause. The lights are turned on, and 
 the blue flame and the red captivate the 
 eye with their magic splendours. And 
 lo ! the men cheer and the women giggle, 
 and there Is jubilation in every face. 
 Presently a mock TImon Is provided to 
 temper their levity with grave utterance, 
 and then a clown Is sent on, and then a
 
 132 Lemuel. 
 
 mime ; and when the house Is in a roar, 
 the comedians laugh to each other behind 
 the scenes, and wink with the eye, and 
 the cheek is puffed out, and the tongue is 
 protruded, and anon the finger is appHed to 
 the tip of the nose. — To Lord Beauport the 
 comedians were ever busy at their calHng. 
 He had never regarded the statesman's 
 craft in any more serious hght than this, 
 but it interested him deeply nevertheless, 
 for, to trifle with the destinies of millions 
 — to play with the fortunes of a people — 
 he regarded as a game for gods. Indeed, 
 life itself was but a joke in his eyes ; for 
 him it had no serious side. It was a 
 round of pleasure, or it was nothing ; 
 and, being brief, every hour had to be 
 enjoyed. With its sorrows he had nothing 
 to do ; he closed his eyes, turned away
 
 Lemuel. 13; 
 
 and refused to take his share of the human 
 burden. Let those bear it on whom it 
 is laid ; he would be no volunteer. He 
 laughed at virtue and at vice alike, for to 
 him this world was a playground, and 
 he did not believe in the existence of 
 any other. Religion he treated with reck- 
 less ribaldry, and his blasphemy was in- 
 fectious, for it was witty. But Lord 
 Beauport's unbelief was not the product 
 of reason or of science : it was wanton 
 and it was wilful. In pleasure alone had 
 he entire faith, and he scoffed at the rest. 
 Sensuality was the soul of his existence, 
 and there must be no hereafter to trouble 
 or to terrify. 
 
 The incredulity of Lemuel Leverson 
 was not less thorough than that of his 
 master, but, being founded on an intel-
 
 134 Lemuel. 
 
 lectual basis, it regarded with disdain 
 the unscientific conclusions of debased 
 morality. 
 
 ' Had I been simply vicious,' Lemuel 
 reasoned, * I should have been a bad 
 mian, but a firm believer ; for a thought- 
 less scamp to take upon himself to set 
 aside the convictions of all ages is proof of 
 imbecility. It is not strength of mind 
 that enables such a one to throw off old 
 beliefs, but enervation of its powers ; and 
 it is the consciousness of his weakness 
 that prompts him to prop it up by start- 
 ling speculations. The infidelity of a 
 corrupt man is in the estimation of the 
 wise only part of his corruption. He 
 becomes a warninQ^ to others, not an ex- 
 ample : he can never fulfil the office of 
 an apostle.'
 
 Lemuel. 135 
 
 To Lemuel his new position presented 
 a ready opportunity of advancement, on 
 which he seized with avidity. He had 
 quickly in his hands all the threads of 
 knowledge, and these he doled out in such 
 measure and at such times as he deemed 
 the most expedient. To Lord Beauport, 
 Lemuel made himself indispensable : so to 
 do is a canon in the liturgy of every private 
 secretary. The minister must know what 
 is necessary for the occasion, but where- 
 fore should he be further instructed ? 
 Beyond this the less information he pos- 
 sesses the better. And the reasoning that 
 leads the subordinate to this conclusion is 
 sound past dispute. 
 
 ' If he should come to know as much as I 
 do, then what further use would he have for 
 me '^. To be thus lavish of the informa-
 
 136 Lemuel. 
 
 tion that I have acquired by dihgence and 
 observation is to act the part of a spend- 
 thrift, and I should deserve to want.' 
 
 And Lemuel was of all men the least 
 likely to commit so obvious a blunder. 
 Was a council to be held, Lemuel pro- 
 vided the arguments ; was a speech to 
 be delivered, he supplied the text and 
 improvised the reasoning, and in due 
 course it would reach Lord Beauport at 
 Newmarket through the medium of the 
 penny post. 
 
 ' By Jove ! that speech of Beauport's has 
 saved the Ministry,' exclaimed the Right 
 Hon. James Mowbray, as, arm-in-arm with 
 the Whip, he passed out of Westminster 
 Hall. 
 
 It was four o'clock in the morning, and 
 the debate had just resulted in the victory
 
 Lemuel. 137 
 
 of the Government by a somewhat narrow 
 majority. 
 
 * The most surprising thing that I re- 
 collect to have occurred in my time,' 
 responded the Whip. ' I hardly knew 
 whether to trust my senses ; and, as he 
 proceeded, I positively raised my glass 
 more than once to make sure that I was 
 not mistaken in the man.' 
 
 * It was a masterpiece of reasoning,' 
 Mowbray replied ; ' and the intimate 
 knowledge of the subject displayed was 
 not less admirable than the logic' 
 
 * Beauport has developed beyond all 
 expectation,' said the Whip ; ' and at this 
 rate he will be in the Cabinet some day. 
 His speech to-night is thought to have 
 made a difference in our favour of five 
 and-twenty votes at the least'
 
 138 Le^mteL 
 
 ' I suppose it is the effect of marriage,' 
 said Mowbray; 'if so, it does infinite 
 credit to her ladyship.' 
 
 ' Lady Beauport is not deficient in 
 cleverness, but I can't help thinking that 
 young Leverson has had something to 
 do with it,' added the Whip. ' I have 
 never succeeded in making the young 
 man out quite — he is so reticent.' 
 
 * Yes, he seems to me to overact his 
 part somewhat in that respect,' said Mow- 
 bray. ' An over silent man is suspected, 
 and in a private secretary there is no 
 more serious fault. He should inspire 
 confidence, not distrust : he should talk 
 much and say litde, if he knows his part. 
 As for Leverson we know that he is not 
 a fool, but we have no assurance that he 
 may not be a knave. To have as your
 
 Leynuel. 139 
 
 secretary a man that outwits you is a 
 mistake, to say the least of it.' 
 
 * I know of none ereater,' said the 
 Whip, * except, perhaps, that he should 
 outwit your wife as well.' 
 
 Towards the close of the season Lady 
 Beauport opened her house to receive 
 the world of politics and of fashion in 
 a series of brilliant gatherings. Day by 
 day the town was becoming more empty, 
 and the warm summer nights resounded 
 no longer with the laughter of revellers 
 in St James's, or with melody in May- 
 fair. The politicians, indeed, were still 
 at their posts, and by them Lady Beau- 
 port's entertainments were welcomed as 
 among the most agreeable of the year. 
 These political assemblies present the 
 strangest contrasts. Here are to be
 
 140 Lemuel. 
 
 found the wise and the fooHsh, the 
 learned and the empty-headed, the cul- 
 tivated and the uncouth, the born fa- 
 vourites of fortune and the self-made, 
 and they who have contended with out- 
 rageous fortune all their days and have 
 triumphed at last. To some it is the 
 proudest distinction of their lives to find 
 themselves guests for an hour of those 
 gilded saloons, it is the crowning honour 
 and even a high reward ; to others it is 
 a step in the ladder that is to lead to 
 still greater things ; to most it is a 
 transformation scene, of which, when the 
 curtain falls, there is no distinct recollec- 
 tion, save of tapers and tinsel and a 
 clamour that is as lieht as the chaff of 
 a summers thrashing floor. It is the 
 occasion wherein woman's tact enters in
 
 Lemuel. 141 
 
 and plays its part in the political drama, 
 the felicitous complement of the policy 
 of Cabinets. And happy is the minister 
 by whose side is found one that under- 
 stands her audience, who can address an 
 ambassador or an alderman with equal 
 facility and can charm both. He is a 
 double-handed man that may afford his 
 rival odds. 
 
 It was close upon midnight, and 
 Lemuel was engaged in escorting the 
 Duchess of Shetland to her coach when 
 a brougham drove away, in which Cris- 
 peyn Caramel had just taken his seat. 
 The linkman had followed it, entreating 
 some remuneration, which Crispeyn re- 
 fused with an oath. 
 
 * Curse him ! ' the man replied be- 
 tween his teeth ; ' when he engaged me
 
 142 LermieL 
 
 to act the sneak, and to the woman of 
 this house, too, he was ready enough 
 with his promises ; curse him ! ' 
 
 Lemuel had caught the man's words 
 as he turned away, and to Lemuel's ears 
 they had a special meaning. Calling the 
 man hastily, he bestowed a liberal reward 
 for a trifling service ; but from that hour 
 Lemuel felt that he was on the track 
 that he had sought with such eagerness, 
 and he ran along it now with the true 
 scent of the sleuthhound. There was 
 no break ; there was not even hesitation 
 for an instant ; there was only the self- 
 command that forbade him to give tongue 
 as the scent grew hot, and he closed 
 upon his quarry. 
 
 For a trifle and a kind word poor 
 Jack had been converted into a friend
 
 Leni2iel. 
 
 143 
 
 and ally, and from him it was that 
 Lemuel learnt the story of the anony- 
 mous letter. 
 
 As a lad Jack had been in the service 
 of Crispeyn Caramel's father. He had 
 received a fair education, and, had it not 
 been for the society of evil companions, 
 might have lived all his days in the 
 household of his patron. As it was, he 
 had come to make a precarious livelihood 
 in the streets, and at the doorways of 
 the wealthy ; and when Crispeyn sought 
 for an agent of his malice he bethought 
 himself of this dependent of his family. 
 
 In Jack's possession was found the 
 original of the letter addressed to Mrs 
 Bland, and it was in the handwriting of 
 Crispeyn Caramel. With the manuscript 
 before him, and with as mucli composure
 
 1 44 Lemuel. 
 
 as if he were inviting him to dine, Lemuel 
 sent Crispeyn a challenge on the follow- 
 ing day. To Crispeyn, however, it was 
 despatched in vain. He denied the ac- 
 cusation at first, and then declined the 
 combat. 
 
 It was even as Lemuel had predicted ; 
 but Crispeyn gained little by his coward- 
 ice. Lemuel crushed him to the earth 
 in a scathing satire, that set the town in 
 a roar. Crispeyn clamoured for life, and 
 Lemuel was content to take him up 
 with two fingers and deposit him on the 
 dung-heap.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FTER the Parliamentary session 
 Lord and Lady Beauport pro- 
 ceeded to Weobly, an ancient 
 seat of the family In the Midlands. It 
 was a grand old house of the Tudor age, 
 and the hand of the restorer had never 
 touched Its antique gables, or its quaint 
 lattices, or its stately terraces. The 
 mansion remained, stone for stone, as 
 Lord Beauport's ancestor had erected It 
 in the reign of the Virgin Queen, and In 
 its trim gardens were yet to be found the 
 rosary and the maze, in which Elizabeth 
 may have dallied with a Leicester or an 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 1 46 Lemuel. 
 
 Essex. The terraces were frao^rant still 
 with the old-fashioned flowers, such as 
 Bacon loved to see in his garden : — 
 
 ' The wild thyme, the pinks, the ger- 
 mander that gives a good flower to the 
 eye, the periwinkle, the cowslip, the daisy, 
 the rose, the lilium convallium, the sweet- 
 william red, the bear's-foot, and the like, 
 being withal sweet and sightly/ 
 
 It was a garden after his own heart, a 
 never-ending delight to a refined and cul- 
 tivated mind ; and they who have known 
 the joy of it can share the enthusiasm with 
 which the philosopher begins his essay, by 
 reminding us that it was the Almighty 
 Himself that first planted a garden. 
 
 The fair summer days were in the 
 meridian of their course, and the sun 
 poured out a flood of life and joy upon
 
 Lemuel. 147 
 
 field and forest. The ancient woods that 
 crowned the hills or clothed the valleys of 
 Weobly were tossed no longer by the wild 
 west winds, until their weird arms creaked 
 and moaned again in the blast ; now they 
 stood motionless all the day long, gazing 
 into the broad face of Heaven, patient 
 alike of its smiles and its frowns. No 
 song breaks in upon their deep solitudes ; 
 no movement stirs their shadowy depths. 
 
 . . . "Tis as the gen'ral pulse 
 Of life stood still and Nature made a pause.' 
 
 It is an hour of inspiration for poets and 
 for lovers ; it is a time of promise for the 
 wearied statesman escaped from the whirl 
 of the town, when the soft breath of the 
 woodland clears his brain, and lends 
 something of its own wild freshness to 
 his well-worn thoucrhts.
 
 148 Lemuel. 
 
 It was at this delightful retreat that 
 Lord Beauport invited a party to meet 
 during the recess. The Duchess of 
 Shetland and Lady Muriel Bellecourt 
 were among the guests ; so also were 
 the Mowbrays and their daughter Egidia. 
 It was Lemuel's first visit to Weobly, and 
 he was interested scarcely less in the 
 place and its surroundings than in the 
 assembled company. 
 
 Each nook and cranny of the antique 
 edifice had for him a delight of its own, 
 and the very indifference of the habitues 
 of the place seemed to bring into stronger 
 relief the romance and the poetry that 
 pervaded it. But Lemuel was never 
 happier than when he escaped into soli- 
 tude, to the unreserved enjoyment of his 
 own thoughts, and the limitless flights of
 
 Lemuel. 149 
 
 a brilliant imagination. At such intervals 
 he would lose himself for hours together 
 in the pathless wilderness of woods, his 
 spirit exulting in its freedom from restraint 
 like some wild bird that had been caged ; 
 then returning, he would take his part in 
 the idle tales in which women delight, or 
 listen with impenetrable gravity to the 
 contentious discourses of political pedants. 
 The company was a mixed one, and 
 amongst those who joined the party at 
 Weobly at this time were Miniver Green 
 and Herbert Stanhope — -'Sanctimonious 
 Stanhope ' he was called by his friends. 
 Stanhope had sat in Parliament for many 
 years, and, when he spoke, his doleful 
 accents had a sobering influence on the 
 House, even in its least serious moods. 
 He was strong upon religious questions,
 
 T 50 Lemuel. 
 
 and it was but rarely that he engaged in a 
 discussion of any kind without running a 
 tilt against the Pope. Once embarked 
 upon his favourite topic, he dealt weighty 
 blows at the mysterious power that seemed 
 to him to pervade earth and air. He 
 waved his arms and stamped with his foot 
 until the earth trembled, and in his eye 
 was reflected the fierce fire that burnt 
 within him. In the house, however, the 
 audience was scanty when Stanhope was 
 on his legs ; the word passed into the 
 lobby, and men retired at leisure to dine 
 or to sleep. There was time for either. 
 It happened rarely that Stanhope resumed 
 his seat under three-quarters of an hour, 
 and, meantime, it was not unusual for 
 some member to move that the House 
 be counted. Stanhope was impervious,
 
 Lemuel. i ^ i 
 
 however, to interruptions of this kind, for 
 his earnestness was superior to his dis- 
 cretion. But he was not a harsh or 
 even unsympathetic man ; when he had 
 deHvered his testimony he could be even 
 genial, as men are wont to be who feel 
 that they have accomplished a duty and 
 earned a reward. 
 
 The question which had of late agitated 
 Parliament to its depths was the exaction 
 of the Parliamentary oath as it stood. It 
 operated to the exclusion of gentlemen of 
 the Hebrew faith, one of whom, a man of 
 the highest consideration, had knocked at 
 the door of the House of Commons for 
 admission in vain. To Sanctimonious 
 Stanhope any relaxation, any variation 
 even of the accustomed formula, was a 
 profanation as direct as if it had been
 
 152 Lemuel. 
 
 part of the law of Sinai. To him it 
 was apparent that the oath was intended 
 to serve, not as a test of good faith, a 
 pledge binding on men's consciences that 
 they would fulfil their trust, but a sure 
 mainstay of the Christian religion. In 
 his eyes, the taking of the oath in a 
 form binding on the conscience of a 
 Hebrew would be an outrage to every- 
 body else. 
 
 ' But, after all,' argued James Mowbray, 
 ' we do not pretend, in these days at 
 least, to settle points of theology in 
 Parliament. We have decided to leave 
 such questions to the individual consci- 
 ence. How, then, are we justified in 
 compelling the Jews to profess agreement 
 with us in matters of faith, or else to 
 remain outside the body politic .-^ '
 
 Lemuel. 153 
 
 * Because we are a Christian people ! ' 
 cried Sanctimonius Stanhope with vehe- 
 mence. 
 
 ' But in what sense are we a Christian 
 people ? ' asked Lord Beauport, ' since all 
 forms of religion are equally free amongst 
 us ? True, the Christians are a majority, 
 an overwhelming majority, if you will ; 
 but what of that ? Will you maintain 
 that as a reason why the minority should 
 be oppressed ? Why should we be thus 
 illogical ? ' 
 
 ' Because we are a Christian people ! ' 
 again roared Stanhope, with augmented 
 violence. 
 
 ' It seems to me,' continued Lord Beau- 
 port, ' that in Parliament we need men of 
 business rather than theologians, and, to 
 my mind, eminent Hebrews show in this
 
 154 Lemuel. 
 
 respect to advantage by the side of even 
 eminent Christians/ 
 
 * Eminent Hebrews, eminent Christians, 
 sir ! Can I trust my ears ? ' exclaimed 
 Sanctimonious Stanhope, in excitement. 
 * Why, we shall be told of eminent Jesuits 
 next ; nay, of eminent Popes ! Zounds ! 
 sir, am I in my senses ? ' 
 
 * Ton my life I doubt it,' whispered 
 Miniver Green to his neighbour. 
 
 * You seem to forget, sir,' Interposed 
 Lemuel, ' that it is from the Hebrews 
 that are derived the most precious of our 
 laws, and the principles, at least, on which 
 all the rest are founded. Surely, then, 
 the Hebrews deserve special considera- 
 tion in our legislature ! ' 
 
 * Special consideration ? By no means, 
 sir,' exclaimed Stanhope. ' On the con-
 
 Lemuel. 155 
 
 trary, they should, in my opinion, be 
 treated with special severity. The man 
 who admits the premisses of an argument, 
 parades his major and his minor, as I 
 may say, and denies the conclusion, is 
 less to be excused than he who cannot 
 follow the argument at all. You really 
 surprise me, sir.' 
 
 ' To me it is clear,' said Lord Beauport, 
 ' that the law affecting the oath, or, for 
 that matter, any other law, should not be 
 relaxed to suit the convenience of any 
 one man, however respectable, or the 
 caprice of any one constituency ; but 
 when there is a whole class of men 
 affected — such, for example, as the Jews — 
 and constituencies are found willing to 
 elect them, I think that the case for 
 relaxation is made out. As to the Jews,
 
 156 Lemuel. 
 
 we should be specially patient ; for they 
 are our elder brethren, after all. But I 
 would put the case in even a stronger 
 form. If an unbeliever were to appear 
 at the table and to refuse the oath, I 
 should oppose any alteration in the esta- 
 blished form to suit his convenience ; but 
 if a body of unbelievers were sent to 
 Parliament, I should certainly recom- 
 mend that a form be provided to meet 
 the case.' 
 
 ' What ! Admit a body of unbelievers 
 to Parliament ! ' cried Stanhope. ' Are 
 you aware, sir, that even the Pope him- 
 self would not tolerate such a proceed- 
 ing, had he the power to prevent it ? ' 
 
 ' My dear sir,' said Lord Beauport, * I 
 have for some time been of opinion that, 
 in point of intelligent and logical liber-
 
 Lemuel. 157 
 
 ality, we in England have much to learn 
 from the Pope. Whatever the Pope does 
 is done upon fixed principles, carried to 
 their legitimate consequences : we in Eng- 
 land act upon impulse, often blind, gener- 
 ally illogical. I am weary of our eccen- 
 tricities, and have learnt to regard with 
 respect the immutable action of Rome.' 
 
 Sanctimonious Stanhope was already 
 on his feet. 
 
 * That I should have lived to hear an 
 English minister speak of Rome with 
 respect,' he exclaimed, in accents of sor- 
 rowful anger ; ' that I should have heard 
 a member of the Government refer to the 
 Pope by name without the usual epithets 
 of execration, is to me convincing evi- 
 dence of the decadence of this nation. 
 From Popery and from wooden shoes,'
 
 158 Lemuel. 
 
 added Stanhope, with fervent emphasis 
 as the men rose from table, ' dehver us, 
 good Lord ! ' 
 
 Sanctimonious Stanhope recovered his 
 spirits when he joined the women in the 
 drawing-room. He had Hberated his 
 soul, and was now in a mood for re- 
 laxation. And it was in these conditions 
 that Egidia invited him to accompany 
 her to the terrace, whither most of the 
 company had betaken themselves already. 
 Egidia seemed to have made up her 
 mind to be agreeable to Sanctimonious 
 Stanhope, but it is not easy to imagine 
 that there could have been much that 
 was of common interest between them. 
 To all appearance she might have 
 selected a younger man for a midnight 
 stroll. But Egidia was steeped in
 
 Lemuel. 159 
 
 worldllness too profoundly to be sus- 
 ceptible, even amid the solitudes of 
 Weobly, to romantic affection. As for 
 Lemuel, she feared him at times, when 
 beneath his quiet smile she imagined 
 that she could detect the cynical sneer 
 with which he was wont to regard the 
 world and its ways. But even if for 
 a time she lost sight of it, she could 
 not but be sensible of the hidden force 
 that dwelt within him, concealed, covered 
 over, and kept under, as it Was, per- 
 petually, and it disturbed her peace. 
 She felt nervous in his company, she 
 was never sure of him, or that he might 
 not assert himself in some unforeseen 
 manifestation of his inscrutable character. 
 Lemuel was studiously attentive and 
 markedly polite ; had he not been so,
 
 1 60 Lemuel. 
 
 Egidia would, she thought, have been 
 better pleased. He would then have 
 afforded her the luxury of a grievance 
 against him. But his manners left 
 nothing to complain of, and, could she 
 have trusted him entirely, even Egidia 
 thought she might have fallen in love. 
 
 For her the last season in London 
 had been a disheartening failure. It 
 was her tenth, and she had done her 
 best, and had effected nothing. And at 
 the close of a tenth season a girl's 
 symptoms become serious. Her very 
 worldliness is a weariness to her at 
 last ; it has lost its freshness, its 
 frivolity has forfeited its flavour. Is 
 there none to deliver her from herself 
 and restore her peace ? In such a state 
 of mind a girl will not unfrequently be
 
 Lemuel. 1 6 1 
 
 rash — she will consent to marry almost 
 any man that asks her rather than to 
 recommence in another season the profit- 
 less campaign. 
 
 And such was the humour in which 
 Egidia found herself when, with Sancti- 
 monious Stanhope, she passed out on 
 the terrace. His usually austere coun- 
 tenance relaxed sensibly as he accom- 
 panied her through the open window, 
 and he was almost playful when he 
 placed his chair beside hers beneath the 
 spreading limes. To him Egidia seemed 
 to-night to be a singularly agreeable 
 person ; he had not been used to the 
 delicate flattery with which she assailed 
 him. Girls had, as a rule, shunned his 
 society, as they would that of an ogre. 
 Here at least, it appeared to him, was 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 1 62 Lemuel. 
 
 one not wholly frivolous. From flattery 
 Egidia passed to sentiment ; and when 
 the moon is at the full, who shall set 
 bounds to the power of sentiment ? See 
 the softening lines of Sanctimonious Stan- 
 hope's countenance. He has passed 
 through life unscathed as yet ; but now, 
 forgetful of the Pope, he places his 
 hand on the back of the chair upon 
 which Egidia is sitting, and whispers in 
 her ear. 
 
 Muriel had noticed Egidia's action, and 
 marvelled. To Muriel, with her dove- 
 like eyes that knew no guile, love was 
 a fairyland, a dream of passionate 
 delight, not a business to be transacted 
 with weights and measures ; and when 
 she beheld Egidia thirsting for this 
 man's gold, she hated the girl in her
 
 Lemuel. 163 
 
 heart. It was a bargain, and nothing 
 more, on Egidia's side ; to her it 
 mattered little that — 
 
 * Love dwells not there, 
 The soft regards, the tenderness of life, 
 The heart-shed tear, the ineffable delight 
 Of sweet humanity.' — Thomsoti. 
 
 But how did such considerations affect 
 her ? Had she not tried for better things 
 and failed ? The men laughed at first, 
 and the women giggled when they per- 
 ceived that Egidia was in earnest, but 
 reflecting, grew serious ; they bethought 
 themselves that she who laughs last 
 often laughs longest and loudest, and 
 they shrewdly suspected that, in a 
 worldly sense, Egidia might have the 
 best of it after all. 
 
 From the terrace Lemuel wandered in 
 Muriel's society to the edge of a pre-
 
 164 Lemuel. 
 
 cipitous descent that led from the garden 
 to a picturesque valley. 
 
 ' Do you know/ said Muriel, 'that we 
 are now close to the haunted vale ? ' 
 
 * The haunted vale ? Pray, what is 
 that ? ' 
 
 ' The valley at our feet, so runs the 
 tale, is haunted by a spectre that has been 
 known to many generations as the White 
 Lady of the Valley. There is no tradi- 
 tion of her history, but she is described 
 as a beautiful woman with large, sad 
 eyes, that flits across the path, gazes at 
 the wayfarer for an instant as if she 
 sought some lost one, then wrings her 
 hands in an attitude of despair, and 
 vanishes in the nearest thicket. A for- 
 mer owner of Weobly, who is said to 
 have encountered the White Lady many
 
 Lemuel. 165 
 
 times, caused a tablet to be erected on 
 the spot commemorative of the tradition.' 
 
 * I should like to visit the place,' said 
 Lemuel ; ' and in this glorious moonlight, 
 too. You do not object } ' 
 
 * No,' said Muriel, somewhat timidly; 
 
 * not with you to accompany me ; but I 
 admit that I should hardly venture alone 
 at this hour. I am not, I think, super- 
 stitious, but where there is said to be 
 something weird and not to be accounted 
 for, I confess to feeling nervous.' 
 
 * How I should rejoice to encounter 
 the supernatural.' said Lemuel earnestly. 
 
 * Very possibly it would change my whole 
 life, — I should be so much happier could 
 I believe in it. And then, the triumph 
 over reason, — you can't think what a 
 luxury that would be, it is such a tyrant.
 
 1 66 Lemuel. 
 
 Happy women, that are not troubled 
 with it ! ' 
 
 * You are not disposed to pay us com- 
 ph'ments to-night,' said Muriel, laughing ; 
 ' that is abundantly apparent. You and 
 I are friends, and so it does not matter, 
 but pray recollect that you are now going 
 into a strange lady's society.' 
 
 They had reached the entrance to the 
 valley, through the centre of which an 
 open glade stretched away into the dis- 
 tance as far as eye could follow. On 
 either side were giant oaks, whose matted 
 foliage cast a deep shadow, and at in- 
 tervals the tall pines reared their tufted, 
 heads, whereon the moonbeams rested 
 Hke snow on the hill-tops. Close at hand 
 was a marble slab, on which were these 
 lines inscribed, —
 
 Leniiicl. 167 
 
 * Rest, gentle shade, these moonlit glades among, 
 Thy fate to us unknown, thy griefs unsung, 
 Though violated home thy bosom wrung, 
 Or careless husband, or some heartless wrong. 
 From faithless friend or ever-wayward son. 
 Left but a broken heart and life undone. 
 Here where the moonlight makes its silent bed, 
 Still rest thee here, pale wand'rer from the dead ! 
 Sad welcome do we bid thee : kindly hail 
 We give thee, gentle Lady of the Vale ! ' 
 
 Lemuel read the lines aloud, and the 
 soft tones of his musical voice added 
 pathos to the verse. He had scarce con- 
 cluded when, of a sudden, a stag startled 
 from its lair at their feet, bounded across 
 the green sward and through the long 
 fern. Muriel, whose nerves had been 
 shaken already by the associations of the 
 place, uttered a cry of terror, and fell 
 into Lemuel's arms in a swoon.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ^Y the following morning Muriel 
 had recovered almost entirely 
 from the effects of the previous 
 night's adventure. The shock had been 
 severe for one of her delicate constitu- 
 tion, but when it was apparent that no 
 evil effects followed, even the duchess 
 smiled, though she had been alarmed at 
 first. 
 
 ' When young ladies go to seek hob- 
 goblins by the light of the moon they 
 generally succeed in finding them,' the 
 duchess remarked. * It was fortunate,
 
 Lemuel. 169 
 
 however, that on this occasion Muriel 
 was so well attended.' 
 
 *We stay-at-home people have occa-- 
 sionally the best of it,' Daphne observed, 
 as she and Marcia Mow^bray sat together 
 after breakfast. ' There was quite as 
 much sentiment, if less adventure, it ap- 
 peared to me, on the terrace last night 
 as in the haunted valley. Do you know, 
 it occurred to me that Mr Stanhope him- 
 self was not altogether insensible to the 
 influences of the hour when he found 
 himself in Egidia's company '^. ' 
 
 ' I am sure I wish that it had been so,' 
 Marcia replied, ' for it is quite time that 
 Egidia were married. It is such a trial 
 to have a girl on your hands when, posi- 
 tively, you do not know what to do with 
 her. I have sometimes wished that we
 
 lyo Lemuel. 
 
 had been blessed with a son instead of a 
 daughter. Girls are so helpless and need 
 so much looking after, whereas boys soon 
 learn to take care of themselves. Indeed, 
 the gravity of the situation comes home 
 to me when I see the same girls present 
 themselves season after season to prance 
 and giggle and return as they came. To 
 me the spectacle is full of melancholy, and 
 casts a shade over every ballroom.' 
 
 * But is it not better after all that girls 
 should come to town under any circum- 
 stances ? ' asked Daphne. ' In the country 
 they assimilate themselves marvellously to 
 their surroundings and become hopelessly 
 dull. Even their garments partake of 
 the prevailing rusticity. See the London 
 girl draped with the grace of a Grecian 
 statue. She may be plain according to
 
 Lemuel. 1 7 1 
 
 all the laws of physiognomy, but, notwith- 
 standing, the eye is gratified and satisfied. 
 Behold your pretty country girl as she 
 stands by her side in misshapen garments : 
 with which of the two do the men prefer 
 to dance ? There is a sweet simplicity, 
 moreover, about the London style, though 
 it is coquettish in every fold, that carries 
 triumph with it. It is a wonderful art 
 and comes with culture. The ancients 
 understood the fascination of simplicity, 
 and when they would have Venus win 
 the hearts of gods and men she was 
 clad in the foam of ocean. No ; girls 
 cannot afford to live country lives, of that 
 I am convinced. They resemble some 
 delicate fruits that ripen rapidly in the 
 sunshine — you may almost detect the 
 golden tints gathering one by one ; but
 
 172 Lemuel. 
 
 place them in the shade and they become 
 sour and colourless.' 
 
 ' Then Egldia has been in the shade 
 for some considerable time past/ observed 
 Marcia bitterly. ' I thought for a moment 
 last night that the prospect was brighten- 
 ing a little, but to-day I fear it was only 
 the illusion of the moon. To be sure 
 there are objections sufficiently obvious 
 to an alliance with Stanhope.' 
 
 ' Few men are more respected than he, 
 remarked Daphne ; ' and, although it can- 
 not be denied that he has his peculiarities, 
 and there is a considerable difference 
 between him and Egidia in point of age, 
 still twenty thousand a-year represents a 
 very substantial amount of worldly goods 
 from which to endow a wife. There are 
 advantages, very decided advantages ; and,
 
 Lemuel. 173 
 
 after all, it is not every girl that can be- 
 come a duchess, you know.' 
 
 ' It is precisely what I have preached 
 to Egidia times without number,' said 
 Marcia Mowbray, ' and she seems to have 
 realised the truth of it, though, I confess, 
 somewhat tardily. But see ! ' Marcia ex- 
 claimed, drawing aside the blind as she 
 spoke, ' see, here they come, hand-in-hand 
 too!' 
 
 The second thoughts of a night had 
 not, it was evident, lessened, in Sancti- 
 monious Stanhope's mind, the impressions 
 of the previous evening ; indeed, as soon 
 as breakfast was over, he had invited 
 Egidia to walk with him in the garden. 
 Now they were observed to pass into the 
 mansion from the terrace, and Daphne 
 made hasty preparations for retreat, with
 
 1 74 Lemuel. 
 
 a view to leave the lovers in undisturbed 
 possession of the saloon. She had already 
 risen for this purpose, when, in the reflec- 
 tion of a mirror, she detected Sancti- 
 monious Stanhope in the act of placing 
 his arm round Egidia's waist, and be- 
 stowing upon her a tender embrace. 
 
 ' My dear,' whispered Daphne in some 
 excitement, as she passed with Marcia 
 Mowbray into the corridor, ' that girl is 
 either engaged to Mr Stanhope, or it is 
 time that she should be ! ' 
 
 The relations of Lemuel Leverson and 
 Muriel had not, on his side at least, be- 
 come sensibly warmer since the incident 
 of the previous evening, and few men who 
 have found themselves under circum- 
 stances so interesting in the society of a 
 fascinating girl, have come away with so
 
 Lemuel, 175 
 
 light a heart. It was a trial such as the 
 strongest have found too strong for them 
 ere now, and have not been ashamed to 
 own it, for there is no steel that ever 
 cased the heart of man through which so 
 subtle an influence will not penetrate. 
 Had Lemuel been as the rest, he too. 
 would have been vanquished — would have 
 fallen at Muriel's feet, and there made 
 known his passion after the customary 
 form. 
 
 But it was not by such means that 
 Lemuel would rise to wealth and power ; 
 he would be the architect of his own 
 fortunes, and he felt that a day would 
 come when the proudest in the land 
 would feel prouder for the offer of his 
 hand. It was not, indeed, because he 
 was insensible to Muriel's beauty and
 
 1 76 Lemuel. 
 
 sweetness, that he was enabled thus to 
 come away unscathed ; on the contrary, 
 he reahsed more than most men the im- 
 measurable depth and charm of her 
 nature ; but for Lemuel, the hour had not 
 struck, and passion and sentiment were 
 still to be kept well in hand. 
 
 Ordinary men might have made de- 
 monstrative love ; Lemuel contented him- 
 self with writing a sonnet in Muriel's 
 album — 
 
 ' The wand'ring deer when day was done 
 Lay resting by the hallow'd stone, 
 Awaiting still the morning ray 
 To range o'er hill and dale away. 
 When lo ! the lovely queen of night, 
 Is straight eclipsed out of sight, 
 And softer gleams than moonlit skies 
 The lustre of a woman's eyes. 
 
 What marvel if the spotted deer 
 Wait not the note of chanticleer ?
 
 Lemuel. 177 
 
 What marvel if from pointed horn 
 He shake the dew and greet the morn ? 
 And, bounding straightway from his lair, 
 Exulting seek the rosy air? 
 For, not Aurora's self outvies 
 The lustre of a woman's eyes. 
 
 Blame not the deer then, lady fair ! 
 Thy wonderment he did but share, 
 And sought in vain the glorious sun, 
 That moon and stars alike outshone. 
 But least of all may he complain. 
 Who shared thy momentary pain : 
 He yet beholds, like Phoebus rise. 
 The lustre of thy woman's eyes.' 
 
 Lemuel's commanding self-control had 
 no counterpart in Muriel, however. Her 
 soft impressionable nature yielded itself up 
 altogether in face of the stern fascination 
 which his presence exercised. Her whole 
 disposition was of the gentle type that 
 goes sufferingly on through life, and makes 
 no sign. An accident it may be, or be it 
 the work of angels or of men, may place 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 1 78 Le7nuel. 
 
 her where she so well deserves to be, 
 the proud and happy wife of one that 
 would try to be worthy of her even if 
 he were not altogether so. But it is a 
 work which Muriel will never accomplish 
 for herself; she can but wait upon for- 
 tune, and trust to accident. She is not of 
 the heroic mould that compels success. 
 Muriel's was not a nature to grapple with 
 the world, to stand up to it, to take it by 
 the throat, if need be, and prove what a 
 craven it is after all ; she would hide her- 
 self away, rather, and sorrow in secret, 
 and the world would pass by and know 
 nothing of it. When Muriel read in her 
 album the lines that Lemuel had inscribed 
 there, she laid her head upon the page, 
 and it was stained with her tears. 
 
 By Egidia, Muriel's weakness was re-
 
 Lemuel, 179 
 
 garded with contemptuous pity. Egidia 
 was not going to be the handmaid of 
 Fortune ; she would force the fickle god- 
 dess, not pander to her caprices. As to 
 destiny, she laughed at it. All Egidia 
 knew was that the strong succeeded in life, 
 while the weak went to the wall, and it 
 was sufficient ; therein was an end of the 
 argument so far as she was concerned. 
 She had made up her mind to marry Sanc- 
 timonious Stanhope ; and the advantages 
 were, from her point of view and under her 
 circumstances, unquestionable. Seventy- 
 two summers had passed over his head, 
 and he had never asked any woman to be 
 his wife ; but Egidia had taken hold of him 
 and refused to let him go ; and this very 
 day before the guests had assembled at the 
 dinner-table, the marriage was announced.
 
 T 80 Lemuel. 
 
 Momentous decision, more serious than 
 any of which Sanctimonious Stanhope 
 had a notion ! Where had all the 
 sunny days of youth been passed that 
 he should have waited for the winter with 
 its snows thus to begin ? Under what 
 delusions did he labour that he should thus 
 mistake — 
 
 * Fair days in winter for the spring ? ' 
 
 But Egidia passed radiantly along with 
 this man arm-in-arm ; she led him after 
 the manner that the ox was led of old to 
 the sacrifice — crowned with flowers. He 
 was truly her victim, but rejoicing the 
 while in the sense of triumph with which 
 Egidia had inspired him. Brimming over 
 at the prospect of the long-drawn vista 
 of conjugal felicity, he contemplated the
 
 Lemuel, 1 8 1 
 
 flower-strewn smiling future that spread 
 itself before his confiding fancy. 
 
 ' Fool ! ' thought Lemuel in his heart; ' at 
 seventy-two to lay out plans and to make 
 preparations for a joyous career! It is 
 about time that these Christians should 
 learn to be not less wise than the much 
 contemned Pagans, their predecessors of 
 two thousand years ago. How musing 
 Horace would have regarded such a 
 spectacle ! 
 
 " . . O beate Sesti, 
 Vitae summa brevis spem nos vetat inchoare longam. 
 lam te premet nox ! " — 
 
 But it is as it should be after all,' 
 Lemuel would add. * If there were not 
 fools in the world wise men would be 
 at a discount, and very familiarity would 
 have brought wit into contempt.
 
 1 82 Lemttel. 
 
 ' Then lonor live our fools ! Their ex- 
 istence relieves the hard lot that fate 
 imposes upon the poor ; and whether 
 they will or no, they lend the helping 
 hand to genius. The wealthy fools are 
 the appointed prizes, the gold-encumbered 
 galleons, the deeply-laden argosies, that 
 fall an easy and profitable prey to the 
 daring privateer. Wealth is no more 
 stereotyped in families than length of 
 days or bodily beauty, and the rich are 
 the spoil of the skilful as much at this 
 day as when the highwayman beset the 
 path. The kingdom of this world is to 
 the wise, not merely to the wealthy. 
 
 ' " Whence then cometh wisdom, and 
 where is the place of the understanding ? 
 It is hid from the eyes of all Hving, and 
 the fowls of the air know it not."
 
 Lemuel. 183 
 
 ' True, it is the subtle gift of nature, 
 and we cannot predict it of any ; but 
 they that possess it are the born cham- 
 pions of the race, and if they be not 
 worthy of the inheritance, let them perish 
 utterly and be forgotten. The rich fool 
 is not to be lightly condemned, for he 
 too has his purpose ; he is an incitement 
 to the ambition of the wise. But a 
 poor fool is nature's scullion ; let him 
 clean the pots and the pans till he die, 
 and the foolish children of the fool take 
 his place.' 
 
 Lord Beauport's generous wine had 
 circulated freely in honour of the coming 
 marriage. All the company were elated, 
 but Sanctimonious Stanhope was in a 
 mood that was exceptionally genial. 
 
 * When we meet in London, my dear
 
 1 84 Lemuel. 
 
 young friend,' he exclaimed, turning to 
 Lemuel as he spoke, ' I trust that Mrs 
 Stanhope and I may often have the 
 pleasure of welcoming you beneath our 
 roof. Indeed, I may say that the future 
 Mrs Stanhope purposes to be exceed- 
 ingly gay. Dear me ! I cannot think 
 how I shall get through it all. Dear 
 me ! Dear me ! ' 
 
 'Neither can I,' thought Lemuel, 'for 
 the life of me. But I fancy I can see 
 him seated already on a very high stool 
 indeed, with the volume of Job in his 
 hands for light literature.'
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HE commencement of the early 
 season is marked by the hold- 
 ing of Cabinet Councils. It is 
 the first decided indication that the time 
 for action is once more at hand. 
 
 After the breaking up of Parliament 
 the intercommunication of ministers is 
 fitful and uncertain. The grouse and the 
 partridges are the only verities at this 
 time, and to them the pheasants suc- 
 ceed ; but following on the wings of the 
 latter come the anxieties of State and 
 the responsibilities of office, and many
 
 1 86 Lemuel. 
 
 a man leaves the covert side with a 
 sigh even for the Cabinet. 
 
 ' Vive la bagatelle ! ' said Lemuel to 
 himself v^hen he saw the political pup- 
 pets putting in an appearance one by 
 one, and taking up the positions assigned 
 to them. ' Vive la bagatelle ! ' 
 
 The gladiators are rubbing up their 
 armour, and the sheen of it gleams 
 through the fogs of December and Jan- 
 uary. Now have to be devised and 
 moulded into sliape the wise shifts of 
 political expediency that, in the ensuing 
 session, are to trim the scales of fortune. 
 But they are sacred and secret until the 
 House meets. The moles are at work, 
 but they cannot avoid throwing up the 
 fresh earth hither and thither in their 
 progress ; and this, do what they will.
 
 Le7nueL 187 
 
 attracts the world's notice and points un- 
 erringly to the goal at which they are 
 aiming. But mystery has to be main- 
 tained, and men take refuge in conjec- 
 ture. It is the epoch of the political 
 prophet, be he a Sanctimonious Stanhope 
 sniffing the air to catch the light winds 
 of Rome ; who, finding the Government 
 not wholly orthodox, straightway places 
 a pan of live coals upon his head, cry- 
 ing, 'Woe to you! woe to you!' Or be 
 he some blatant Wilkes denouncing the 
 government of the few, and predicting 
 the coming downfall of cabinets and of 
 kings. But the ministry is sanguine, and 
 gathers courage as the bustle grows and 
 the councils multiply. 
 
 A popular surprise is deemed good 
 policy at the commencement of a session,
 
 1 88 Lemuel. 
 
 and during these weeks of preparation 
 the production of the unlooked-for mea- 
 sure is laboriously matured. But the 
 Cabinet was not brilliant ; it was sound 
 rather than original in its tendencies, and 
 there was scarce to be found among its 
 members one from whose brain could 
 be struck a solitary spark to relieve the 
 gloom. Fireworks were wholly out ol 
 the question. Sombrely they sat, and 
 the weeks sped by on their course, 
 and now in a fortnicrht the House 
 would meet. 
 
 ' We are in a bad way,' quoth Nestor, 
 as he shuffled along Downing Street in 
 company with Ulysses when the council 
 was over. ' We are dying of inanition 
 surely and not slowly. This Government 
 has seen its best days, to my mind.'
 
 Le77iuel. 189 
 
 * We need fresh blood,' Ulysses re- 
 sponded ; ' there can be no doubt about 
 it ; and it was the idea in the minds 
 of us all to-day as we sat round the 
 board, though no one thought fit to give 
 it expression. There was quite a hungry 
 look in the eyes of some as they re- 
 garded their neighbour, such as we read 
 of in the history of famishing crews 
 when it becomes a question who is to 
 die that the rest may live.' 
 
 ' I think I perceived something of the 
 kind,' replied Nestor ; ' and it occurs to 
 me that if some one were to volunteer, 
 the effect might be better than that we 
 should draw lots. It would relieve the 
 Prime Minister of a difficulty and be 
 appreciated by the party. For myself, 
 I confess that I begin to feel the weight
 
 90 Lemuel. 
 
 of responsibility somewhat heavy for my 
 years. I have had a seat in some half- 
 dozen Cabinets In my time, and I almost 
 think that I can see my way to — ' 
 
 ' A peerage ?' interposed Ulysses. 
 
 ' You are very good ! ' 
 
 * And — er — a pension ? ' 
 
 Nestor here arrested his steps, and, 
 seizing the hand of his friend shook it 
 with fervid emotion. 
 
 ' No, no ; it is not that. The testimony 
 borne by one's countrymen to the efforts, 
 however humble, of a life-time spent In 
 their service is the truest reward,' said 
 Nestor, much moved, as he parted com- 
 pany with Ulysses in St James's Street. 
 • No ! ' he added, feelingly, ' give me the 
 hearty goodwill of my countrymen. It 
 is all I ask ; it is my highest ambition.'
 
 Lemuel. 1 9 1 
 
 * Old fox ! ' exclaimed Ulysses as he 
 turned into Boodle's ; ' he knows we mean 
 to get rid of him whether he will or no. 
 He has, to my certain knowledge, been 
 told as much by the Prime Minister him- 
 self. Now he wants to drive a bargfain. 
 Hearty goodwill indeed! Excellent joke! 
 But he is right ! By Jove I Nestor 
 is right,' added Ulysses, shrugging his 
 shoulders. ' He has not sat in " some 
 half-dozen Cabinets " to no purpose. I 
 have noticed that the State ever honours 
 that man the most who knows how to 
 honour himself. Nestor is in the right, 
 by Jove I ' 
 
 The fact was, that Lord Beauport's 
 fame had grown rapidly, and men had 
 begun to feel that his presence in the 
 Cabinet would be a source of strencrth
 
 192 Lemuel. 
 
 to the Government both in Parlia- 
 ment and in the country. There was 
 a cry among the party for Beauport, 
 which it was no longer safe to ignore. 
 The Prime Minister had decreed it, 
 and ere a week had elapsed, the 
 announcement appeared in the Gazette. 
 Nestor had been raised to the peerage 
 by the favour of the Sovereign, and 
 contemporaneously the Prime Minister 
 had the pleasure of communicating to 
 the new noble that a pension of two 
 thousand a year had been conferred 
 upon him for life. 
 
 Nestor had been shelved gracefully, 
 and Lord Beauport reigned in his stead. 
 It was a proud moment for his lord- 
 ship, for even his best friends and well- 
 wishers had not until recently ventured
 
 Lemuel. 193 
 
 to prophesy such rapid advancement. 
 The frequenter of the racecourse, the 
 idle fld7ieur of society, the wanton 
 trifler of the greenroom — who would 
 have thought that he was destined to 
 form one of that sacred band in whose 
 hands rest the destinies of England ? 
 But Lord Beauport took his seat at the 
 board with all the nonchalance of one 
 born to the place, and entered into the dis- 
 cussion of the day with as much coolness 
 as \i the subject were the chances of the 
 favourite for the Derby or the Oaks. 
 
 The absence of surprise is, indeed, a 
 test of good breeding, and the man who 
 starts and is confused will hardly trace 
 back his pedigree to the Normans. His 
 experiences are of to-day, and the ex- 
 periences of his ancestors were re- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 194 Lemuel. 
 
 stricted to those of yesterday ; the 
 quality is hereditary. Your ploughman 
 is open-mouthed at the transformation 
 scene, for neither he nor his progenitors 
 had conceived anything better than a 
 raree show. 
 
 The presence of Lord Beauport soon 
 made itself felt in the somnolent Cabinet. 
 He had not sat there a week before he 
 recognised the exigencies of the situa- 
 tion, and that his colleagues, sunk into 
 the depths of mediocrity, encumbered 
 with custom and routine, were incapable 
 of rising to the level of the occasion. 
 
 * The fact is,' he exclaimed, ' the reins 
 are in your hands no longer ; you have 
 dropped from the box, and are hang- 
 ing on behind, after the fashion of the 
 gutter - boys. You may impede the
 
 Lemuel. 195 
 
 machine ; you may even succeed in 
 arresting its mad career, but presently, 
 growing- languid, you will yourselves fall 
 away, and it will rush headlong to de- 
 struction. The revolution has, up to this 
 time, been ahead of you ; you must go 
 forward with a bound and outrun it, if 
 you would save your country and your- 
 selves. Taking it in front and rear, you 
 must smite it with a strong arm.' 
 
 The boldness of this advice took the 
 Cabinet aback. It had been used to 
 half-hearted measures. What manner of 
 counsel was this, the like of which had 
 not been heard within those walls for a 
 decade ? Cabinets may not be precipitate, 
 however ; they are not wont to be rash ; 
 and it was determined to postpone a de- 
 cision. It was Saturday, and happily
 
 96 Lemuel. 
 
 the Sabbath intervened ; for the Sabbath 
 is a day that is much devoted to 
 sober poHtics. It is a day upon which 
 poHtical questions harden, are trans- 
 formed, and pass not infrequently 
 from the abstract to the concrete 
 form. A question already in hand may 
 be elaborated and worked out on the 
 Sabbath, though you may not originate, 
 for such are the ethics of the British 
 Sunday. It is light, not labour, that 
 constitutes the offence. 
 
 The value to the British Statesman of 
 the Sabbath is very considerable, more 
 especially when controversies run high ; 
 and, as a rule, the interval of reflection has 
 the effect of bending men's minds towards 
 the proposals of the Government, rather 
 than of the Opposition. The tendency of
 
 Lemuel. 197 
 
 the day of rest is to soothe and to settle, 
 not to foment contentions. 
 
 When the Cabinet met again, the 
 sound judgment which dictated Lord 
 Beauport's advice had been fully re- 
 cognised, and it had come, moreover, 
 just in time to relieve the speech from 
 the throne from disastrous dulness. As 
 it was, men rubbed their eyes to be sure 
 that thfey were awake, and not dreaming. 
 The nation was electrified at the boldness 
 of the new policy, and the party was 
 enthusiastic. Lord Beauport's reputation 
 rose with a bound, and already might 
 be detected the faint glimmer of the 
 aureola that adorns the brow of the 
 statesman whom his countryman have 
 made up their minds to canonise. 
 
 The great speech was delivered, and
 
 19^ Lemuel. 
 
 the popular voice designated Lord Beau- 
 port as the popular idol. He passed 
 from the House to Westminster Hall, 
 where an enthusiastic crowd was waiting 
 to cheer him. Hats are ra'sed and hand- 
 kerchiefs are produced, and Lord Beau- 
 port bows on this side and on that, as 
 he advances amid the throng to his car- 
 riage. It is a veritable ovation. From 
 Newmarket and the Town Moor he has 
 advanced already to Olympus, and is 
 seated with the gods. 
 
 Lemuel, who had been present in the 
 House, followed Lord Beauport at a dis- 
 tance into Westminster Hall, and the 
 shouts of the populace were still ringing 
 in his ears, and he had seen the women's 
 handkerchiefs fluttter in the air. 
 
 * Mountebanks ! ' he exclaimed, 'for
 
 Lemuel. 199 
 
 the most part : deceivers or deceived 
 every one. Stay ! there is one here 
 that knows better,' Lemuel added, as he 
 placed the manuscript of Lord Beauport's 
 speech in his bosom, and leaped into the 
 hackney coach that was to convey him to 
 the Times office. 
 
 ' In a few hours all England will have 
 read ^this as the composition and the 
 mind of him who owns it not. 'Tis 
 hard, 'tis bitter to the taste, but it has 
 to be borne, and it won't last.' 
 
 As Lemuel emerged from Westminster 
 Hall, he saw Lord Beauport enter his 
 carriage amid the renewed vociferations 
 of the multitude. Therein, awaiting the 
 advent of her husband, was Daphne, and 
 triumph was in her eyes, even though the 
 tears stood there.
 
 200 Lemuel. 
 
 ' This is the noblest recompense of 
 life's labours after all/ thought Lemuel 
 as he paused for an instant — ' to come 
 back from the strife, be It victor or van- 
 quished, to the woman whom you love, 
 and to read in her eyes that she Is proud 
 of you. Inestimable rewards, and sweeter 
 than all gifts ! 
 
 * They rob the Hybla bees, 
 And leave them honeyless ! '
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 T Marcia Mowbray's house 
 Lemuel renewed the acquaint- 
 ance of his schoolfellow Willie 
 Lambton. He was Marcia's half-brother, 
 son of her father by a second marriage, 
 and very many years her junior. Marcia 
 did not care for her stepmother or for her 
 son ; but it was, Marcia conceived, to 
 her advantage that she should be able 
 to refer to a brother who was so much 
 younger than she was ; it lessened, she 
 fancied, her own years in the common 
 estimation. Hence it was that Willie
 
 202 LemueL 
 
 Lambton was invited invariably to her 
 house when Marcia desired to appear 
 at her best. 
 
 Years had elapsed since Willie and 
 his schoolfellow had last met ; it was 
 then the threshold of life for both, and 
 in the interval each had advanced a 
 stage on the road that cannot be re- 
 traced. Willie Lambton had gone from 
 Harrow to Cambridge, and was now 
 engaged in the practice of the law. He 
 was a delicate and interesting youth of 
 four-and-twenty, with large, pensive, grey 
 eyes, and there was a sadness in them, 
 a joyless expression, so strongly marked 
 as to attract attention at once. The 
 melancholy that tinged his nature 
 softened it also, and led away his 
 thoughts from the enterprise and action
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 of every-day life to a loftier and nobler 
 ideal which he had formed for himself, 
 an arcadia such as poets have imagined, 
 but which practical men have not found 
 to exist on the earth, and thence his 
 aspirations passed on to a paradise 
 beyond the skies such as eye hath not 
 seen. It was his duty, he felt, to exert 
 himself in his profession, however, so 
 as to avoid becoming a burden to his 
 family ; but further than this he had 
 no ambition. The events of every-day 
 life he regarded with habitual indiffer- 
 ence, looking away and beyond them 
 to a land of dreams. The rough contact 
 of men repelled him ; his refinement took 
 alarm, and he shrank instinctively away. 
 He distrusted the world around him, 
 and lived more in the past than in the
 
 204 Lemuel. 
 
 present — in the literature of another age, 
 the genius of which alone survives when 
 all that is of baser earth has mouldered 
 away. 
 
 ' I have often recalled the happy days 
 we spent at Harrow,' said Willie Lamb- 
 ton ; ' you and I, when we wandered 
 together, and wondered at the world 
 before us, and speculated as to what was 
 to be our own share in it. And you 
 were sanguine, and I was doubting, and 
 we were both in the right, it seems.' 
 
 ' The tree can be no other than the 
 seedling,' said Lemuel ; ' it must give 
 forth flower and fruit after its kind ; its 
 nature remains the same in whatsoever 
 soil it may be planted. You and I have 
 passed into the world, and you still 
 doubt and I am sanguine.'
 
 Lemuel. 205 
 
 ' It is even as you say,' Willie replied ; 
 * it has been so from the first until now. 
 Who knows, however, but that we shall 
 change places at last, and that when 
 my doubts are ended, yours will 
 begin ? ' 
 
 'A man should get rid of his doubts 
 early,' said Lemuel. ' I do not preach 
 precipitation, remember ; but doubts be- 
 come chronic at last ; you are their slave, 
 and they can be shaken off no more 
 than the old man in the Eastern tale. 
 The grasp tightens the more violently 
 you struggle, and they will strangle 
 you not improbably in the end. For 
 myself, I have no doubts ; my mind is 
 made up. True, I have one only belief, 
 but that one is a sovereign remedy 
 against faltering and feebleness. I be-
 
 2o6 LemueL 
 
 lieve In myself, and it is the beginning 
 and the end of my faith.' 
 
 * Is it possible, then,' continued Willie, 
 ' that you have lost altogether the precious 
 inheritance of your fathers, the hope and 
 expectation of Israel, and that its sublime 
 story has for you no meaning ? ' 
 
 'You are mistaken if you think so,' re- 
 joined Lemuel. ' Of the literature of my 
 people there is no more earnest student 
 than I — none more enthusiastic. Do not 
 misunderstand me. The Hebrew Scrip- 
 tures are for me the sublimest of poems 
 — more ennobling than that of the blind 
 bard of Chios, and more historically ac- 
 curate. The joys, the sorrows, the hopes 
 of our race are written in letters of fire, 
 but to me they are a poem still. To 
 you, indeed, they are more, and I am
 
 Lemuel. 207 
 
 not surprised : they are so intensely 
 human that you call them divine.' 
 
 Lemuel stood erect as he spoke ; his 
 eyes flashed for an instant with unaccus- 
 tomed light, and his whole countenance 
 beamed with animation. 
 
 * How tender and how strong ; how 
 calm and how enthusiastic!' he continued. 
 ' You may search the literature of all 
 ages and not find a parallel, open the 
 page where you will. Read the story 
 of Joseph and his brethren, and the tears 
 are already in your eyes. It is the most 
 pathetic that has ever been written in 
 which no woman is concerned.' 
 
 'Again, we know but little in reality 
 of the captivity under the Pharaohs. 
 Yet how that bondage comes home to 
 us in the wonderful song that commemo-
 
 2o8 Lemuel. 
 
 rates the going out from Egypt — that 
 deHrium of joy wherein all nature seemed 
 to take part, and the mountains them- 
 selves to leap from their foundations ! 
 
 ' Respond, thou wind-obeying sea, 
 
 What troubleth thy repose ? 
 Say whence, O Jordan, dost thou flee. 
 Thy flood, why backward flows ? 
 
 What wondrous awe, what fear affrights 
 
 Thy rest, thou mighty deep ? 
 And O ye everlasting heights. 
 
 Why skip hke lambs of sheep ? 
 
 'Twas at the face of Jacob's God 
 
 The troubled waters fled, 
 And IsraTs people safely trod 
 
 The ocean's trackless bed. 
 
 'Twas at the voice of Jacob's Lord 
 
 Th' exulting hills made known 
 That Israel had heard His word, — 
 
 The Lord had saved His own ! ' 
 
 * My dear Lemuel,' said Willie Lamb- 
 ton seriously, ' there is more than poetry 
 here, there is conviction ; and this it is
 
 LemueL 209 
 
 which elevates the sacred writings above 
 the grandest compositions of Greece and 
 Rome. This is no dream, no ingeniously 
 contrived myth. In a sense, indeed, it 
 is more to the credit of the Greeks to 
 have constructed whole systems of religion, 
 with their thousand marvels, out of the 
 imagination; whereas, the Jews did but 
 record the wonderful works that were 
 accomplished in their midst' 
 
 * I am in the habit of doing my country- 
 men more justice,' said Lemuel, speaking 
 now with deliberation ; * and herein, I 
 apprehend, lies the difference between us. 
 In my view, they were endowed with 
 imaginative powers more fertile than any 
 that you are disposed to give them 
 credit for.' 
 
 There was silence lor a moment, and 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 2IO Lemuel. 
 
 Willie Lambton smiled despite himself 
 at the cynical remark. 
 
 ' Ah, well ! ' he exclaimed, placing his 
 arm within that of his friend, as they pro- 
 ceeded homewards, ' I do not despair of 
 you — I will not ; I cannot. You have a 
 reverent mind ; you are keenly alive to 
 what is beautiful and true ; there is nothing, 
 let me say it, that is sordid about you ; 
 and when you, too, behold the pillar of 
 light preceding you in the darkness you 
 will follow it, believe me, even to the 
 Promised Land. May it be so ! Good- 
 night' 
 
 ' What a fascination there is about 
 him ! ' thought Willie Lambton, when he 
 was once more alone ; * what a power he 
 possesses for good or for evil — what a 
 responsibility! It is a mysterious influ-
 
 LemueL 2 i i 
 
 ence, and I am afraid of it, I confess. 
 It is the force of character, the master- 
 spirit, that dominates as if it would over- 
 whelm and carry you along with it, whether 
 you will or no, you know not whither. 
 Lemuel has genius, and I have none ; 
 but what a price he pays for the perilous 
 possession ! I suppose I should be con- 
 tent — nay more, that I should be 
 thankful' 
 
 It was midnight now, and the streets 
 were deserted, save at the corners, where 
 the gin-shops blazed far into the night, 
 and Willie Lambton hastened on his 
 way through the tortuous streets and alleys 
 that led to his home in Lincoln's Inn. 
 
 In a quaint row of the old brick 
 houses, of the era of Elizabeth and of 
 James, Willie had his chambers. The
 
 212 Lemuel. 
 
 house had no door, or, if there were one, 
 it had, from long disuse, ceased to be 
 regarded as a barrier. The ancient stair 
 was worn by the tread of many genera- 
 tions of lawyers, and the massive balus- 
 trade gave signs of yielding, at length, 
 beneath the weight of years that pressed 
 upon it. It was a gaunt old house, that 
 might have had many a tradition of 
 comedy or of tragedy attached to it 
 appertaining to the tenants of two cen- 
 turies and a-half. But tradition there 
 was none. There seldom or never is 
 any tradition connected with these old 
 lawyers' houses. Either hearsay -evi- 
 dence is not regarded in these precincts 
 as of value, or the inmates change too 
 often to preserve continuity of record ; 
 at any rate, these old walls are mute
 
 Lemuel. 213 
 
 for the most part, — there is no echo in 
 them ; even ghosts are not recognised 
 in the Inns of the Courts. They have 
 no locus standi, and the law takes no 
 account of them. 
 
 WilHe Lambton inhabited two rooms 
 off the third floor landing. The walls 
 were wainscoted, and the ceilings were 
 low, and the lattices were yet filled with 
 the narrow panes of the first builders ; at 
 the back was a garden in which nothing 
 grew, and beyond this was a row of brick 
 houses of the same date as that in 
 which Willie Lambton dwelt. Clamber- 
 ing and clustering against their walls was 
 an ancient fig-tree. It was the only 
 green thing that was visible from Willie's 
 windows, and it was grateful. The fig 
 was a favourite with our ancestors in
 
 2 1 4 Lemuel, 
 
 town and country alike ; it was succeeded 
 on our walls by the laburnum, and now 
 the creeping wisteria has supplanted both. 
 
 Here the sparrows, those strange deni- 
 zens of the London courts made their 
 home. — Twit-twit ! twit-twit ! With all the 
 world of wood and meadow open to them, 
 they prefer the close London lanes and 
 alleys. It is contiguity they seek ; it is 
 the society of their fellows that com- 
 pensates for the rest. 
 
 And there are men and women, too — 
 more, perhaps, than care to confess it — 
 who prefer the chirp of the sparrows, even 
 in the dog-days, to the music of the 
 grove ; men and women that fear to be 
 left alone with their thoughts, it may be, 
 to be cut off from that ' first of joys ' — 
 society ; men and women who are not
 
 Lemuel. 2 1 5 
 
 only social by habit, but more than com- 
 monly gregarious. 
 
 In this quaint eyrie Willie Lambton 
 passed most of his time — he rarely returned 
 thither from the crowded saloons or the 
 busy streets without a sensation of relief 
 and of rest. He was soon buried in 
 his books once more, and the whirl of 
 the world passed him by. 
 
 With Lemuel, on the contrary, the 
 solitude of his chamber was but pre- 
 paration for action. Pie loved to be 
 alone ; indeed, he knew no better society 
 than that of his own thoughts, but he 
 yearned for work. To men who have 
 much to accomplish in this world, he 
 would say, time is the most precious of 
 possessions, and they should grudge any 
 portion of it that is not actively employed.
 
 2 1 6 Lemuel. 
 
 We must hasten onwards. The wise 
 do not look back : it is one of the 
 secrets of success. It depends upon the 
 pace whether, on reaching the summit, 
 we are to sit down and take our ease, 
 and revel in the rarefied air till our ears 
 tingle, and gaze around us at leisure on 
 the transcendent prospect ; or whether 
 we shall discover, to our sorrow, that our 
 labour has been in vain, and that the 
 night is settling down already and dark- 
 ling all round the horizon. They whom 
 death overtakes on attaining the pinnacle 
 of their ambition are its dupes; they 
 have been cajoled and led on, and en- 
 ticed and cheated ; they have foregone the 
 sweet and pleasant things of life and its 
 ease and its peace for a chimera. It is too 
 late, and they know it ; and when they
 
 Lemuel. 2 1 7 
 
 upbraid not Heaven, men call it resigna- 
 tion, and their memories, perchance, are 
 held in benediction. But they realise, 
 nevertheless, with unspeakable bitterness, 
 the meaning of the melancholy sentence 
 that every school-boy learns with his 
 exercise, — 
 
 ' Seret Agricola arbores quarum fructus 
 ipse nunquam videbit.' 
 
 It happens every day, however ; and 
 some men call it evil fortune, and some 
 a judgment, and they quarrel over it ; 
 and while they wrangle, time is still 
 flying over their heads. Heavens ! as 
 if it mattered, when death is the result 
 either way ! Call it what ye will, O 
 my friends ! 
 
 But Lemuel had the consciousness of 
 vitality within him ; he had the confi-
 
 2 1 8 LemueL 
 
 dence born of innate vigour that is 
 the appanage of the strong. * Accident 
 excepted, time will befriend me,' was the 
 thought in Lemuel's mind. ' Men will 
 fall on my right hand and on my left, 
 even a second, perchance a third genera- 
 tion, and I shall see them out. With a 
 seven-leagued step I shall pass them by : 
 I am good for eighty ! '
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 T was half-past four in the after- 
 noon, and the sun was shining 
 brightly when Daphne returned 
 from her drive to her house in St James's. 
 She drew down hastily the pink blinds, 
 and a delicious glow of warm colour 
 pervaded the room. It was Daphne's 
 favourite tint ; it became her amazingly, 
 she believed, and presently her tea-table 
 was spread, and she set herself to pre- 
 side over it, according to her custom. 
 
 It is a veritable hour of witchery. 
 From north and south, east and west,
 
 2 20 Lemuel. 
 
 come the trooping athletes of anecdote, 
 and they gather round and close in, like 
 witches over a cauldron. Each has 
 brought something to add to the incan- 
 tation ; and, as the fumes arise, voices 
 grow louder, and the sounds of merri- 
 ment increase, and the scandal com- 
 menced in a whisper ends in a shout. 
 
 To command the suffrages of the tea- 
 table would be an object worthy the 
 ambition even of statesmen ; but it is a 
 constituency that it is difficult to woo, 
 and that only few men can win. It is 
 at once too exclusive and too wanton. 
 From house to house fly the fair-weather 
 friends, to praise or to censure, to com- 
 mend or to sneer, as the humour or the 
 caprice of the hour dictates. And woe 
 to the luckless ones whom it is the
 
 Lemuel. 2 2 1 
 
 fashion to decry. Neither man nor 
 woman that has transgressed the code 
 shall escape the lash ; they will be hustled 
 from one to another — no man will take 
 them for his own ; and if the sitting be 
 prolonged, they will scarce survive the 
 daggers of their friends. 
 
 Daphne had hardly settled in her chair 
 when the door flew open, and in an in- 
 stant Bonnie Beauclerc had thrown herself 
 into her arms. 
 
 ' I am so rejoiced to find you at home,' 
 exclaimed Bonnie, ' for I have something 
 to say which will amuse you. Does it 
 surprise you to hear that I have an 
 admirer '^. ' 
 
 'An admirer! Not in the least, my 
 dearest,' replied Daphne, embracing 
 Bonnie with affection as she said so :
 
 2 22 Lemuel, 
 
 *you know how deeply I have at heart 
 your interests. You must tell me every- 
 thing ; there must be nothing kept 
 back/ 
 
 Bonnie's only response was a ringing 
 laugh. 
 
 * I am at a loss to comprehend your 
 meaning,' said Daphne, who was begin- 
 ning to feel a little hurt; *you must 
 really explain.' 
 
 ' Then you shall not remain in suspense,' 
 said Bonnie, 'for, indeed, the creature is 
 not worth a second thought, and you will 
 say so when you know it is only that 
 ridiculous Willie Lambton who fancies 
 he has fallen in love with me.' 
 
 * Willie Lambton ! ' repeated Daphne in 
 a tone that indicated surprise ; ' you are 
 mistaken surely. Poor, weakly, nerveless
 
 Lemuel. 223 
 
 creature ! It is incredible. What im- 
 aginations you girls have ! I protest 
 there is not a man in the town that 
 looks at you awry but you assume forth- 
 with that he is enamoured.' 
 
 * Oh, but I can assure you that this is 
 no mistake/ Bonnie replied. ' Indeed, I 
 have the utmost difficulty in escaping 
 from his attentions at the balls. He 
 pursues me round and round ; he impor- 
 tunes me to dance ; he entreats me to sup ; 
 if I smile he is in an ecstasy; if I am serious 
 his face lengthens and he is in despair.' 
 
 Here Bonnie illustrated her narrative 
 by a corresponding grimace, which drew 
 from Daphne repeated peals of laughter. 
 Their merriment was still at its height, 
 when it was interrupted by the entry of 
 Miniver Green.
 
 2 24 Le^nuel. 
 
 ' My dear Lady Beauport,' Miniver 
 exclaimed, * complete my good fortune in 
 finding you thus pleasantly engaged by 
 admitting me to the secrets of the tea- 
 table. There are none more delightful 
 in my estimation — absolutely none.' 
 
 Miniver's speech did but add to the 
 hilarity of Daphne and her cousin. 
 
 ' It is nothing,' cried Daphne when she 
 had recovered sufficiently the use of arti- 
 culate language ; ' it is really nothing at 
 all ; quite too silly, at least, to bear 
 repetition.' 
 
 * At this hour the more silly the more 
 acceptable,' said Miniver. ' We have dis- 
 posed of the business of the day ; we 
 have been sad and serious, and nature 
 calls aloud for a contrast. Even a philo- 
 sopher may be flippant over his tea-cup.'
 
 Lemuel. 225 
 
 * Well, if you insist upon knowing,' said 
 Daphne. 
 
 * I am inexorable,' interrupted Miniver 
 — * adamantine/ 
 
 * Then you must know that Bonnie 
 has been describing the attentions of her 
 latest admirer. You would hardly expect 
 to find him in the person of Marcia Mow- 
 bray's young brother, Willie Lambton ? ' 
 
 ' I am not astonished in the least to 
 hear you say so,' said Miniver with an 
 assumption of gravity, ' for I have ob- 
 served that your sentimental man is per- 
 petually on the point of making love. 
 Sentiment wanders vaguely in the air, 
 is diffused throughout space until, gathered 
 together and concentrated by some subtle 
 influence, or fortuitous concourse, it is 
 
 condensed of a sudden and falls to the 
 VOL. I. r
 
 2 26 Lemuel. 
 
 earth in the concrete form of love. Your 
 sentimental man becomes forthwith the 
 ready medium of its action, and thence- 
 forth the process is quite regular. Love, 
 once it has begun to operate, follows well 
 ascertained laws ; and in this instance it 
 would seem that the young man has 
 passed through the preliminary stages 
 with commendable exactness. For my- 
 self I detest your skirmishers,' Miniver 
 added, ' your irregulars ; I am a man of 
 order, and predisposed in favour of 
 him whose approaches are made in due 
 form.' 
 
 Miniver Green delivered himself of 
 these oracular sentences with an air of 
 affected solemnity, his head slightly ele- 
 vated and one hand extended, while with 
 the other he grasped his tea-cup.
 
 Lemuel. 227 
 
 * You appear to contemplate one side 
 of the case only,' said Daphne, ' that of 
 the man ; and this may be natural enough 
 from your point of view ; but pray take 
 some account of the lady's position. It 
 may be that the man's sentiment, or love, 
 if you will, is not reciprocated, and his 
 approaches, as you term them, may, in 
 that case, end in persecution.' 
 
 * That is, no doubt, a conceivable 
 contingency,' said Miniver; 'but the 
 persecution that is born of love is 
 surely one of the beatitudes ? You 
 cannot find it in your heart to be 
 angry with the Despot of the ball- 
 room, or to execrate the Diocletian of 
 the boudoir .'* ' 
 
 *Well, not angry exactly,' said Bonnie 
 Beauclerc, laughing, 'that would be too
 
 2 28 Lemuel. 
 
 strong a word, perhaps ; but then, WilHe 
 Lambton is often provokingly in the way. 
 To be sure, when I send him to speak 
 to the footman, or to call the carriage, 
 he is delighted, poor man ! ' 
 
 ' Poor man ! ' echoed Miniver, as he 
 relinquished his cup and sought his snuff- 
 box. ' Alas ! poor man.' 
 
 And Bonnie had indeed spoken the 
 truth ; for Willie Lambton had fallen 
 madly in love with the beautiful girl. 
 He raved about her, and at times tried 
 to think that his love was returned. It 
 was the only passion that had ever stirred 
 his heart to its depths, and it took pos- 
 session of him entirely. But Bonnie 
 played with Willie Lambton as with a 
 shuttlecock. She tossed him in the air 
 and turned him round and round, and
 
 Lemuel. 229 
 
 laughed in his face when she had made 
 him giddy. He groaned in spirit, and 
 she skipped Hghtly ; he was heart-sick, 
 and her merriment became boisterous. 
 Bonnie Beauclerc knew nothing of abstract 
 affections — of love in the air she under- 
 stood as Httle as of love in a cottage. 
 Love, or what passed for it, was never 
 dissociated in her mind from the pos- 
 session of wealth and station, and WiUie 
 Lambton was painfully conscious of his 
 inability to confer either. He sought 
 to persuade himself, however, that his 
 affection would be no more slighted were 
 the fatal obstacle removed ; and this mo- 
 tive acted thenceforth as a spur urging 
 him perpetually to effort. From supine 
 indifference he became even nervously 
 energetic ; he toiled without ceasing, and
 
 2 30 Lemuel. 
 
 waited no longer in expectation of briefs 
 that seldom or never came to his door. 
 In the highways he sought them, and at 
 the dawn he might be found labouring 
 still at the work he had collected during 
 the previous day. Poor Willie Lambton 1 
 day by day his pale features grew paler 
 still, his brow more troubled, as the 
 anxious days passed on and the feverish 
 nights, and but little progress was made 
 towards realising a fortune. 
 
 The marriage of Sanctimonious Stan- 
 hope and Egidia Mowbray had been the 
 sensation of the early season, and society 
 tittered and twittered over it. Society 
 was amused, and its curiosity was excited 
 by the violence of the experiment and 
 the flagrancy of the contrast. No man 
 permitted himself to think that a marriage
 
 Lemuel. 2 ; i 
 
 contracted under such conditions could 
 be otherwise than disastrous. The inter- 
 esting question was how long the marriage 
 tie would bear the strain to which it was 
 subjected. But Stanhope was jubilant, 
 for he was of the number of those ' who 
 listen with credulity to the whispers of 
 fancy, and pursue with eagerness the 
 phantoms of hope ; who think that age 
 will fulfil the promises of youth, and the 
 deficiencies of the present day be supplied 
 by the morrow.' 
 
 The joy-bells rang out merrily ; there 
 was no strain of sadness or of warning in 
 them ; but for Stanhope, as for most men 
 whose fancy has outrun their reason, 
 there came a time when he too shared 
 the experiences of Rasselas, Prince of 
 Abyssinia.
 
 232 Lemuel. 
 
 In an instant, It may be, in the twinkling 
 of an eye, the fantastic illusions vanish, 
 perish away, and almost precipitately dis- 
 appear. The fond dreams dissolve, and 
 it is found that the order of nature has 
 not been reversed or set aside after 
 all ; that the sun sets at the appointed 
 hour, and men proceed to light their 
 lamps. 
 
 To most men the illusions of life come 
 early ; the laughter of to-day is succeeded 
 by the tears of the morrow, and for an 
 hour the storm rages furiously. But it 
 does not last, for the youthful mind is not 
 prone to grieve, and thereafter comes ripe 
 experience, that leads on to tranquil and 
 mellow age. It is otherwise, however, 
 with the illusions of advanced life. They 
 do not melt ; they harden with time, and
 
 Lemuel, 233 
 
 the gloom gathers as they cast back their 
 melancholy shadows that darken all the 
 landscape. 
 
 Soon the midnight oil commenced to 
 burn freely in the mansion over which 
 Egidia was called to preside in Grosvenor 
 Square ; the door was ever ajar, and the 
 gay spirits of the town quickly recognised 
 that another house had been added to 
 the list of those which were after their 
 own heart. Night after night the sounds 
 of revelry arose, and the tables were 
 spread with the rare and delicate viands 
 that render the entertainments of the 
 early spring the most delightful of the 
 year. Night after night the light chords 
 were struck, and the sounding bass made 
 music for the corybantes of the ballroom, 
 and longer and longer grew the face of
 
 2 34 Lemuel. 
 
 Sanctimonious Stanhope as the hours of 
 repose grew shorter and the night ceased 
 to be distinguished from the day by any 
 hne sharply drawn. 
 
 But the revellers were not abashed, for 
 Egidia herself it was that led the way 
 and cheered them on. During ten long 
 years had she waited for this chance, and 
 now that she had obtained her freedom, 
 was she to be expected to forego it ? 
 
 ' I have fulfilled my contract,' Egidia 
 would say. ' I have married a man 
 whose habits are not mine, it is true, 
 but it gratified him, and shall not I, too, 
 have a reward ? I am no recluse,' she 
 would reply to the querulous remon- 
 strances of her husband. ' My inclina- 
 tions do not tend that way ; my enjoy- 
 ment is in the world around me — this fair
 
 Lemuel. 235 
 
 and joyous world — and the living, not 
 the dead, shall be my associates.' 
 
 To argue the case was idle. Sancti- 
 monious Stanhope found that Egidia was 
 inexorable, and when he complained to 
 his friends there was no reply. They 
 would smile and evade the question, or 
 pass flippantly on their way. 
 
 * I don't know a man that is more 
 miserable than Stanhope,' observed Mini- 
 ver Green, as he walked away from 
 Grosvenor Square at the dawn of a 
 summer morning. * It was but yester- 
 day, it seems to me, that I envied his 
 position. To-day I believe he would 
 gladly take mine. Dear me ! marriage 
 is a serious matter.' 
 
 * It is not marriage that is to blame,' 
 said Lemuel ; ' it is the abuse of it. Had
 
 236 Lemuel, 
 
 not Stanhope postponed marriage till now, 
 when such a venture is perilous, he might 
 have married more than once and been 
 the better for it. As it is, he has chal- 
 lenged fate, and sent the hostile message 
 by Cupid ; he must be prepared for the 
 consequences of his folly.' 
 
 'It is futile, or worse, to argue with 
 sentiment,' said Miniver, ' or to philo- 
 sophise over love ; in nine cases out of 
 ten sentiment prevails over reason, and 
 hence flow evils as desolating as any that 
 escaped from Pandora's box to afflict 
 mankind. Nay, the case is worse still, 
 it seems to me ; for not even hope remains 
 behind to console suffering humanity.' 
 
 • True,' Lemuel remarked ; ' but I do 
 not confound love with marriage. Love 
 is an abstract thing and intangible, that
 
 Lemuel. 237 
 
 may be dismissed after a trial, but mar- 
 riage is pre-eminently concrete.' 
 
 * There is indeed no questioning its 
 realities/ Miniver replied, ' and to me it 
 has appeared that they are not unfitly 
 heralded by the awe-inspiring ceremonies 
 of the marriage day. If women were 
 wise, surely they would simplify the 
 ritual ; as it now stands, many a man 
 shies at the programme, even if he do 
 not bolt outright.' 
 
 * The trial may be severe in compli- 
 ance with the exigencies of fashion,' re- 
 marked Lemuel, ' but I do not concur 
 as to its deterrent effects. It must be 
 confessed that the man who thus 
 counts and forecasts is not in love. A 
 lover's self-control I can understand, for 
 it is the instinct of self-preservation ; the
 
 238 Lemuel. 
 
 interests at stake may be gigantic, over- 
 whelming ; but the lover that uses the 
 microscope is an enigma to the gods, and 
 a spectacle that should suffice to make just 
 men weep.'
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 S the season advanced rumours 
 affecting the stabiHty of the 
 Government gained circulation, 
 and the House of Commons was permeated 
 by the undefinable instinct that precedes 
 the downfall of a Ministry. Party dis- 
 cipline becomes relaxed ; the ranks are 
 broken and men fall out ; the whips them- 
 selves partake of the all but universal 
 loosening of party ties, and the House 
 assumes a straggling and dissipated ap- 
 pearance that nothing short of a dissolu- 
 tion can cure. Even sober men begin
 
 240 Lemuel. 
 
 to speak with a reckless air at such a 
 time, and Ministers to stammer ; they 
 have no heart for eloquence, — the words 
 stick In the throat. The House loses its 
 self-confidence ; it is conscious that its 
 credit with the country is shaken, that it 
 is capable no longer of compassing great 
 measures. The contagion spreads to the 
 provinces ; the constituencies are quickly 
 alive to the fact that a blight has fallen on 
 the assembly, and soon are made manifest 
 the excitement and clamour of the coming 
 election. 
 
 * I parted with Nestor in the Mall not 
 half-an-hour since,' said James Mowbray, 
 on meeting Miniver Green at the club. 
 * He tells me that things are looking 
 serious. He is in the confidence of 
 Ministers, you know, and I am disposed
 
 Lemuel. 241 
 
 to credit what he says, for, though men 
 in office, or seeking it, may speak for a 
 purpose, pensioners for Hfe will often 
 tell the truth.' 
 
 ' Nestor having ceased to belong to the 
 Cabinet, may not be sorry to see the 
 Government in trouble. Miniver main- 
 tained ; he is devoured by vanity, and 
 that the fall of the Ministry, now that he 
 has left it, would be welcomed by him 
 with a secret satisfaction there can be 
 little doubt. For myself, I think that his 
 anticipations are somewhat exaggerated.' 
 
 * It may be so,' said Mowbray ; ' but 
 the impression gains ground that the state 
 of Ireland, coupled with the advance of 
 democracy, will lead to the downfall of 
 the Government.' 
 
 'The state of Ireland!' exclaimed Mini- 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 242 Lemuel, 
 
 ver ; * why, if the state of Ireland were 
 to be the test, no Government could hold 
 office for a week. It is the conundrum 
 of every Cabinet/ 
 
 ' The fact is,' said Mowbray, * that each 
 Government falls into the same groove as 
 its predecessor, so far as Irish policy is 
 concerned ; they don't know the country 
 with w^iich they have to deal, and the 
 people on our side of the House are not 
 less ignorant in this respect than their 
 opponents. In my opinion, a man should 
 be required to serve an apprenticeship 
 under indenture of three years at the 
 least in Ireland before he is deemed 
 elio^ible for a seat in the Cabinet.* 
 
 ' But Irishmen are not agreed among 
 themselves,' said Miniver, 'as to what is 
 best for their country. They contradict
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 each other freely, and that is, to my mind, 
 the disheartening feature. We in England 
 seek to humour both parties, and in so 
 doing share not infrequently the tradi- 
 tional fate of those who rest upon two stools.' 
 * True, Irishmen contradict each other/ 
 said Mowbray ; ' and this adds immeasur- 
 ably to the difficulties of Englishmen in 
 the matter of legislation ; but Irishmen 
 have at least decided views, and in Eng- 
 land we have not yet attained that stage. 
 Events move rapidly, however, and, un- 
 less the Government decide on a vigorous 
 line of action, it will fall. The Irish, at 
 home and abroad, are not to be trifled 
 with ; say what you will, they have grown 
 into a great nation, even if you be not 
 disposed to admit that they are a wise 
 and an understanding people.'
 
 244 Lemuel. 
 
 * They would be formidable, Indeed, if 
 united,' said Miniver ; ' but their power Is 
 broken to pieces by intestine quarrels.' 
 
 ' Their fierce contentions have, it is 
 true, made them powerless for great pur- 
 poses,' Mowbray observed ; * but the Irish 
 fight, they do not quarrel : it is, so far, a 
 fine trait in the national character/ 
 
 * I think the correction is just,' Miniver 
 replied, * though the circumstance does 
 not, I apprehend, improve the aspect of 
 the case. I wonder whether Beauport is 
 prepared with a policy ? ' 
 
 * Beauport is mostly at Newmarket,' 
 said Mowbray ; ' and the atmosphere of 
 the place is not congenial to the inception 
 of political action. True, Beauport is the 
 only member of the Government who, 
 to my mind, is a man of genius ; but,
 
 Lemuel. 245 
 
 if he were to devote more of his time to 
 his office, and less to the race-course, it 
 would be all the better for his reputation.' 
 
 ' I am not altogether satisfied of that/ 
 Miniver replied ; ' a sporting minister is 
 ever a popular minister ; the people in this 
 country come to understand a racing man 
 and to take an interest in him. It is the 
 next thing to believing in him, and that 
 will follow with a little management.' 
 
 ' For myself,' said Mowbray, ' I should 
 as soon place faith in a gambling attorney 
 as in a racing minister. Thank heaven ! 
 I belong to a serious party, one that is 
 ever conscious of the responsibilities of 
 government.' 
 
 ' A party that is persistently serious,' 
 said Miniver, 'betrays distrust of its 
 powers. It labours at the task before it
 
 2a6 Lemuel. 
 
 with an anxious mind that leaves no 
 breathing time ; it trudges along the dusty 
 road driven by whips and goads, nor ever 
 turns into the green glades by the way- 
 side for recreation or repose. Such 
 men are liable to be worn out prematurely. 
 They, on the other hand, that laugh and 
 sing as they labour, show themselves 
 masters of the situation, and inspire con- 
 fidence. A statesman should not be 
 frivolous, I admit, but he has to manipu- 
 late mankind, and for this end a jest is 
 often a better argument than a syllogism. 
 It is so in the House of Commons. The 
 man that makes the best jest in the best 
 taste is ever the most successful, as he is 
 the most acceptable speaker. We are a 
 laughter-loving people, and the cap and 
 bells are seldom absent long from the
 
 Leviiicl. 247 
 
 buskin. By the way, Leverson dines with 
 us this evening, — will you be of the party ? ' 
 
 ' With all my heart/ Miniver replied. 
 * I regard Leverson as one of the rising 
 young men of the day, and his com- 
 panionship has for me, I confess, an abid- 
 ing interest. We old fellows, tottering to 
 our fall, may see in promising youth a pro- 
 phecy as well as a guarantee of the future. 
 We can look a-head in their company and 
 gain a glimpse, at least, of the world that 
 will follow after us. Leverson is an excel- 
 lent specimen of his class, and a capital 
 talker, too, when he is in the humour.' 
 
 * Of the two, I admire his silence the 
 more,' said Mowbray ; \ it seems to me to 
 be the more artistic, the more finished 
 performance, and, strange to say, even the 
 more eloquent. It is more significant
 
 248 Lemuel. 
 
 than words that are not intended to con- 
 vey any meaning. But I cannot convince 
 my wife of this, for Leverson has contrived 
 to array the women on his side, and they 
 stand together Hke the Theban Band.' 
 
 * Then he need not despair of being 
 Prime Minister some day,' said Miniver; 
 ' for the influence of the women is a power 
 that has to be reckoned with even in poli- 
 tics : it confronts you at every turn, and 
 will go a long way towards inclining the 
 balance in your favour. It is a lever in 
 public life, the value of which is best 
 known to the wise : the politician that is 
 patronised by the women is already on 
 the way to Downing Street.' 
 
 During dinner Lemuel was unusually 
 cheerful. For the moment he appeared 
 to have thrown aside some of the reserve
 
 Lemuel, 249 
 
 that was habitual with him, and his con- 
 versation was brilHant and animated. 
 
 Marcia Mowbray was at a loss to find 
 an explanation of the change ; she had 
 observed keenly every symptom that 
 helped to throw light upon the prospects 
 of the Government, and they were uni- 
 formly adverse. She looked forward 
 eagerly to its downfall, and the consequent 
 return to office of her husband, and at the 
 present crisis it was inexplicable that 
 Lemuel, connected as he was with the 
 Ministry, should display only indications of 
 rejoicing. ' Is his manner to-night but a 
 blind,' thought Marcia, ' assumed to con- 
 ceal his chagrin ? or — is he in love ? ' 
 
 It is ever the alternative of a woman's 
 difficulty ; to her everything revolves 
 round this central sun of her existence ;
 
 250 Lemuel. 
 
 and she has recourse to it for the explana- 
 tion of whatever is strange or unexpected. 
 Marcia Mowbray watched Lemuel with 
 some of the interest with which astrono- 
 mers are wont to observe the motions 
 of a meteor whose course is noticed to be 
 erratic. They are convinced that it fol- 
 lows a law, and that its movements are not 
 haphazard ; it would be a scandal to science 
 to suppose it were otherwise, and theory 
 after theory is started to account for the 
 phenomenon, but fails to satisfy altogether. 
 Lemuel was not a man to fall in love, 
 Marcia knew ; it was the last thing she 
 would have predicted of him, and it was 
 only in despair of discovering any more 
 probable motive that she hazarded the 
 conjecture. Her eyes were fastened upon 
 him ; but it was a mask that she beheld, —
 
 Lemuel. 251 
 
 there was no penetrating it, and ever and 
 anon the question rose to her lips : who 
 can she be ? 
 
 To WilHe Lambton it was that Marcia 
 turned for information ; for, if Lemuel 
 had a friend to whom more than to 
 another he would be likely to unbosom 
 himself, that man was Willie Lambton. 
 But Willie only smiled when Marcia pro- 
 pounded her theory. 
 
 * Lemuel in love ! Impossible. Why, 
 for him the word has no meaning.' 
 
 * I suppose a man might contemplate 
 marriage, however, without being in love 
 exactly,' observed Marcia, who was un- 
 willing to surrender her position alto- 
 gether, — ' to satisfy his ambition for 
 example, or to promote it ? ' 
 
 ' Well, I suppose he might,' Willie re-
 
 252 Le^nuel. 
 
 plied sadly ; ' but what a dreary future 
 he would have before him ! Only to 
 think of marriage without love ! It would 
 surely be better in such a case for a 
 man not to marry at all ? ' 
 
 ' I am not so sure of that,' said Marcia ; 
 ' it would depend very much upon the in- 
 dividual. Some men are said to have 
 no feelings, and you would, it seems, in- 
 clude Lemuel Leverson in the number ; 
 but the term is only comparative at the 
 most, and even that qualification may be 
 too strong. In some men sentiment is 
 concentrated, and its intensity makes itself 
 manifest immediately ; in others it is 
 spread over a greater surface it may be, 
 but the amount is much the same in the 
 end. No ; the difference is in most cases 
 not nearly so great as you seem to ima-
 
 Lemuel, 253 
 
 gine : it is surprising how much alike 
 one man is to another when once you 
 have discounted the cut of his coat.' 
 
 ' It may be even so,' said Willie, 
 * though I find a difficulty, I confess, in 
 understanding these placid natures — these 
 philandering philosophers. For myself, 
 I think I should prefer being emancipated 
 from sentiment altogether, rather than 
 have it doled out to me in such scant 
 measures. To me it has always seemed 
 that Lemuel has no feelings, only prin- 
 ciples.' 
 
 'You mean virtues?' inquired Marcia. 
 
 * Not exactly. Principles are the fruit 
 of judgment, as virtues are of religion. 
 Lemuel's actions are regulated by prin- 
 ciples dictated by judgment, principles of 
 honour, principles of expediency, it may
 
 254 Lemuel, 
 
 be. Virtue is more rigid and less 
 selfish.' 
 
 ' You know him better than I do,' said 
 Marcia, 'and I will not, therefore, 
 dispute your opinion. Perhaps, then, 
 you can explain the change that has 
 come over him to-night, now that you 
 are satisfied that it is not to be attributed 
 to love.' 
 
 ' To you it may seem otherwise,' said 
 Willie Lambton ; ' but, nevertheless, I 
 am convinced that it is to politics that 
 we must look for an explanation. Politics 
 alone are the mainspring of Lemuel's 
 actions. To succeed in political life is 
 his settled aim and purpose ; and if you 
 would fathom his motives, you must 
 accept this as a fundamental axiom.' 
 
 Marcia Mowbray remained incredulous,
 
 Lemuel. 255 
 
 however, for she was unable to recon- 
 cile this theory with the indications pre- 
 sented. She was still engaged in turning 
 over in her mind the contradictions 
 involved in it, when the door opened, 
 and Nestor was ushered into her pre- 
 sence. Nestor was flurried. 
 
 ' On my way hither I met Beauport/ 
 Nestor explained. * He is much con- 
 cerned for the fate of the Ministry. The 
 crisis is acute, he declared — is desperate, 
 in short. The revolution has broken 
 out.' 
 
 ' The revolution ! ' exclaimed half-a- 
 dozen voices in chorus. * But where .^ ' 
 
 ' In the House of Commons.' 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 COLSTON AND SON, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF ILLIN0I9-URBANA 
 
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