"'Ye stars, which are the poetry of dress.'"

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

St. Barbe was not disappointed in his hopes. It was an evening of glorious success for him. He had even the honour of sitting for a time by the side of Mrs. Neuchatel, and being full of good claret, he, as he phrased it, showed his paces; that is to say, delivered himself of some sarcastic paradoxes duly blended with fulsome flattery. Later in the evening, he contrived to be presented both to the amba.s.sador and the cabinet minister, and treated them as if they were demiG.o.ds; listened to them as if with an admiration which he vainly endeavoured to repress; never spoke except to enforce and ill.u.s.trate the views which they had condescended to intimate; successfully conveyed to his excellency that he was conversing with an enthusiast for his exalted profession; and to the minister that he had met an ardent sympathiser with his n.o.ble career. The amba.s.sador was not dissatisfied with the impression he had made on one of the foreign correspondents of the "Chuck-Farthing," and the minister flattered himself that both the literary and the graphic representations of himself in "Scaramouch" might possibly for the future be mitigated.

"I have done business to-night," said St. Barbe to Endymion, towards the close of the evening. "You did not know I had left the old shop? I kept it close. I could stand it no longer. One has energies, sir, though not recognised--at least not recognised much," he added thoughtfully. "But who knows what may happen? The age of mediocrity is not eternal. You see this thing offered, and I saw an opening. It has come already. You saw the big-wigs all talking to me? I shall go to Paris now with some _eclat_. I shall invent a new profession; the literary diplomatist. The bore is, I know nothing about foreign politics. My line has been the other way. Never mind; I will read the 'Debats' and the 'Revue des Deux Mondes,' and make out something. Foreign affairs are all the future, and my views may be as right as anybody else's; probably more correct, not so conventional. What a fool I was, Ferrars! I was asked to remain here to-night and refused! The truth is, I could not stand those powdered gentlemen, and I should have been under their care. They seem so haughty and supercilious. And yet I was wrong. I spoke to one of them very rudely just now, when he was handing coffee, to show I was not afraid, and he answered me like a seraph. I felt remorse."

"Well, I have made the acquaintance of Mr. St. Barbe," said Myra to Endymion. "Strange as he is, he seemed quite familiar to me, and he was so full of himself that he never found me out. I hope some day to know Mr. Trenchard and Mr. Waldershare. Those I look upon as your chief friends."

On the following afternoon, Adriana, Myra, and Endymion took a long walk together in the forest. The green glades in the autumnal woods were inviting, and sometimes they stood before the vast form of some doddered oak. The air was fresh and the sun was bright. Adriana was always gay and happy in the company of her adored Myra, and her happiness and her gaiety were not diminished by the presence of Myra's brother. So it was a lively and pleasant walk.

At the end of a long glade they observed a horseman followed by a groom approaching them. Endymion was some little way behind, gathering wild flowers for Adriana. Cantering along, the cavalier soon reached them, and then he suddenly pulled up his horse. It was Colonel Albert.

"You are walking, ladies? Permit me to join you," and he was by their side. "I delight in forests and in green alleys," said Colonel Albert.

"Two wandering nymphs make the scene perfect."

"We are not alone," said Adriana, "but our guardian is picking some wild flowers for us, which we fancied. I think it is time to return. You are going to Hainault, I believe, Colonel Albert, so we can all walk home together."

So they turned, and Endymion with his graceful offering in a moment met them. Full of his successful quest, he offered with eager triumph the flowers to Adriana, without casting a glance at her new companion.

"Beautiful!" exclaimed Adriana, and she stopped to admire and arrange them. "See, dear Myra, is not this lovely? How superior to anything in our gla.s.s-houses!"

Myra took the flower and examined it. Colonel Albert, who was silent, was watching all this time Endymion with intentness, who now looked up and encountered the gaze of the new comer. Their eyes met, their countenances were agitated, they seemed perplexed, and then it seemed that at the same time both extended their hands.

"It is a long time since we met," said Colonel Albert, and he retained the hand of Endymion with affection. But Endymion, who was apparently much moved, said nothing, or rather only murmured an echo to the remarks of his new friend. And then they all walked on, but Myra fell a little back and made a signal to Endymion to join her.

"You never told me, darling, that you knew Colonel Albert."

"Colonel Albert!" said Endymion, looking amazed, and then he added, "Who is Colonel Albert?"

"That gentleman before us," said Myra.

"That is the Count of Otranto, whose f.a.g I was at Eton."

"The Count of Otranto!"

CHAPTER x.x.xV

Colonel Albert from this day became an object of increased and deeper interest to Myra. His appearance and manners had always been attractive, and the mystery connected with him was not calculated to diminish curiosity in his conduct or fate. But when she discovered that he was the unseen hero of her childhood, the being who had been kind to her Endymion in what she had ever considered the severest trial of her brother's life, had been his protector from those who would have oppressed him, and had cherished him in the desolate hour of his delicate and tender boyhood, her heart was disturbed. How often had they talked together of the Count of Otranto, and how often had they wondered who he was! His memory had been a delightful mystery to them in their Berkshire solitude, and Myra recalled with a secret smile the numberless and ingenious inquiries by which she had endeavoured to elicit from her brother some clue as to his friend, or to discover some detail which might guide her to a conclusion. Endymion had known nothing, and was clear always that the Count of Otranto must have been, and was, an English boy. And now the Count of Otranto called himself Colonel Albert, and though he persisted in speaking English, had admitted to Mrs.

Neuchatel that he was a foreigner.

Who was he? She resolved, when she had an opportunity, to speak to the great banker on the subject.

"Do you know, Mr. Neuchatel," she said, "that Endymion, my brother, was at school with Colonel Albert?"

"Ah, ah!" said Mr. Neuchatel.

"But when he was at school he had another name," said Myra.

"Oh, oh!" said Mr. Neuchatel.

"He was then called the Count of Otranto."

"That is a very pretty name," said Mr. Neuchatel.

"But why did he change it?" asked Myra.

"The great world often change their names," said Mr. Neuchatel. "It is only poor City men like myself who are always called Mr., and bear the same name as their fathers."

"But when a person is called a count when he is a boy, he is seldom called only a colonel when he is a man," said Myra. "There is a great mystery in all this."

"I should not be surprised," said Mr. Neuchatel, "if he were to change his name again before this time year."

"Why?" asked Myra.

"Well, when I have read all his papers in Bishopsgate Street, perhaps I shall be able to tell you," said Mr. Neuchatel, and Myra felt that she could pursue the theme no further.

She expected that Endymion would in time be able to obtain this information, but it was not so. In their first private conversation after their meeting in the forest, Endymion had informed Colonel Albert that, though they had met now for the first time since his return, they had been for some time lodgers in London under the same roof. Colonel Albert smiled when Endymion told him this; then falling into thought, he said; "I hope we may often meet, but for the moment it may be as well that the past should be known only to ourselves. I wish my life for the present to be as private as I can arrange it. There is no reason why we should not be sometimes together--that is, when you have leisure. I had the pleasure of making your acquaintance at my banker's."

Parliament had been dissolved through the demise of the crown in the summer of this year (1837), and London society had been prematurely broken up. Waldershare had left town early in July to secure his election, in which he was successful, with no intention of settling again in his old haunts till the meeting of the new House of Commons, which was to be in November. The Rodneys were away at some Kentish watering-place during August and September, exhibiting to an admiring world their exquisitely made dresses, and enjoying themselves amazingly at b.a.l.l.s and a.s.semblies at the public rooms. The resources of private society also were not closed to them. Mr. and Mrs. Gamme were also there and gave immense dinners, and the airy Mrs. Hooghley, who laughed a little at the Gammes' substantial gatherings and herself improvised charming pic-nics. So there was really little embarra.s.sment in the social relations between Colonel Albert and Endymion. They resolved themselves chiefly into arranging joint expeditions to Hainault.

Endymion had a perpetual invitation there, and it seemed that the transactions between Mr. Neuchatel and the colonel required much conference, for the banker always expected him, although it was well known that they met not unfrequently in Bishopsgate Street in the course of the week. Colonel Albert and Endymion always stayed at Hainault from Sat.u.r.day till Monday. It delighted the colonel to mount Endymion on one of his choice steeds, and his former f.a.g enjoyed all this amazingly.

Colonel Albert became domiciled at Hainault. The rooms which were occupied by him when there were always reserved for him. He had a general invitation, and might leave his luggage and books and papers behind him. It was evident that the family pleased him. Between Mr.

Neuchatel and himself there were obviously affairs of great interest; but it was equally clear that he liked the female members of the family--all of them; and all liked him. And yet it cannot be said that he was entertaining, but there are some silent people who are more interesting than the best talkers. And when he did speak he always said the right thing. His manners were tender and gentle; he had an un.o.btrusive sympathy with all they said or did, except, indeed, and that was not rarely, when he was lost in profound abstraction.

"I delight in your friend the colonel, Adrian," said Mrs. Neuchatel, "but I must say he is very absent."

"He has a good deal to think about," said Mr. Neuchatel.

"I wonder what it can be," thought Myra.

"He has a claim to a great estate," said Mr. Neuchatel, "and he has to think of the best mode of establishing it; and he has been deprived of great honours, and he believes unjustly, and he wishes to regain them."

"No wonder, then, he is absent," said Mrs. Neuchatel. "If he only knew what a burthen great wealth is, I am sure he would not wish to possess it, and as for honours I never could make out why having a t.i.tle or a ribbon could make any difference in a human being."

"Nonsense, my dear Emily," said Mr. Neuchatel. "Great wealth is a blessing to a man who knows what to do with it, and as for honours, they are inestimable to the honourable."

"Well, I ardently hope Colonel Albert may succeed," said Myra, "because he was so kind to my brother at Eton. He must have a good heart."

"They say he is the most unscrupulous of living men," said Mr.

Neuchatel, with his peculiar smile.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Mrs. Neuchatel.