Robert Orange Part 26

But I don't think he is sorry to be rid of Agnes. A regiment of relatives drove him into the engagement. Now it has come to an end--let us thank G.o.d!"

"Your own conscience is easy, I take it?"

"You have no right to ask such a question--none at all."

"Some men, you know, can be laughed out of their loves," he continued.

"Timorous men--yes! Is Reckage timorous?"

"You turned that most adroitly."

"Thank you. Please sit between Lady Augusta and Aumerle at dinner."

The dinner pa.s.sed most agreeably. As little as possible was said about the Meeting; each talked to his or her neighbour, and although the separate dialogues may have been profound, the general effect produced was one of restful flippancy. Pole-Knox remarked over his fish that England had little to fear--unless through the corruption of her religion, whereupon Penborough declared that religion in the country was a School, not a Church. To this Lady Augusta rejoined that Rome's strength depended merely on Canterbury's weakness.

"Forcing a change is a very ticklish business," said Aumerle, studying the menu, and regretting that his digestion was not all it had been.

Lord Garrow deplored the fact that Mr. Gladstone had embarked on a very vulgar and very false policy.

"But its vulgarity," he sighed, "gives it a very easy reception."

"He expects everything except docility," said Penborough; "if the Opposition employ that means, they will embarra.s.s all his calculations."

Reckage, meanwhile, was confiding to Sara--

"I turned the horse round, rammed my spurs in, and put him at the rails again!"

One statement, made by Penborough, caused a flutter.

"If Catherine of Arragon had been immoral and Mary Stuart virtuous, the whole course of European History would have been different. The Reformation, for instance, would have found no favour in England."

"That's _very_ advanced," murmured Lady Larch.

Sara, at dessert, tried to encourage a debate on the egoism of the Saints compared with the egoism of Montaigne.

"They were selfishly bent on pain and renunciation, he was selfishly bent on pleasure and indulgence. Isn't that the one difference between them, Mr. Orange?"

Orange refused to be drawn, but he promised to lend her the _Acta Sanctorum_ of the Bollandists in sixty volumes in folio.

"After you have read them," said he, "I will tell you my ideas about Montaigne."

Many other remarks were probably more amusing; these, however, were the most characteristic.

When dinner was ended, Sara and the two ladies withdrew to the drawing-room, where they discussed with the utmost vehemence Orange's illegal marriage and Reckage's broken engagement.

The sum and substance of their investigations were as follows:--

Lady Larch wondered what the world was coming to.

Lady Augusta declared that no woman yet ever fathomed the heart of man.

Lady Sara maintained that it was a very good thing for both young men to have had such reverses before they finally settled down.

At this Lady Augusta forgot to sigh, and Lady Larch lost control of her smile.

"How," exclaimed Augusta, "can they forget so soon? Can any settling down be in contemplation? Are no deep, sacred feelings left?"

Emmeline Larch, who was a widow, said she would never be hard on any one who tried to recover, for the sake of others, from a shattering bereavement.

"Dear Lady Larch!" exclaimed Sara.

The three women formed a picturesque group round the fireplace as the men entered. But the card-tables were already placed, and Sara lost no time in arranging a quartette for whist. Penborough had to leave for the _Times_ office. Pole-Knox had to hurry back to Fulham. The young lady, who was known to detest all games, was thus able to choose Robert for her partner in a short conversation.

"Forgive me," said she, "but--have you anything to tell me about Mrs.

Parflete?"

"Yes; she is now with Pensee."

"May I call upon her? May I know her? Would she see me?"

"With pleasure, I am sure."

"And you?" she asked.

"I don't see her," he said quietly; "I don't hear from her. I don't write to her. And--I don't talk about her. But I should like you to know her. She needs true friends--who understand."

"Have you been to Prince d'Alchingen's, or has he approached you in any way?"

"I am to dine with him to-morrow."

"Has he said anything to you about the Marquis of Castrillon?"

"Not a word," replied Robert, in surprise: "why should he?"

"I believe there is mischief in the air. Be careful, won't you? Reckage is watching us. I think he would like some music. He is so _triste_ this evening."

She moved away, and played delightfully on the guitar until the guests rose to leave. Then she found an opportunity to tell Lord Reckage not to come back again. She was tired, she said, and her papa would think it too odd.

"Then to-morrow morning," said he.

She named an hour.

CHAPTER XX

Robert, on leaving the house, drove to Grosvenor Gate, where he had an appointment with Disraeli. The ex-Minister was sitting, in a flowered dressing-gown, by the library fire. The blinds were not drawn, for the night was bright and starry; the moonlight streamed into the room, mingling strangely with the soft glow of the green-shaded lamp. There was a large bundle of doc.u.ments on the table by Disraeli's side, and a pile of Continental newspapers on the floor. One of the latter he was reading, and, by the slight curl of his mouth and the gleam in his fine eyes, Orange saw that he was working out, to his amus.e.m.e.nt, some train of thought which gave full jurisdiction to his knowledge of humanity.