Ethel Churchill/Chapter 58
CHAPTER XXIII.
PRUDENCE IN POLITICS.
How often, in this cold and bitter world,
Is the warm heart thrown back upon itself!
Cold, careless, are we of another's grief;
We wrap ourselves in sullen selfishness:
Harsh-judging, narrow-minded, stern and chill
In measuring every action but our own.
How small are some men's motives, and how mean!
There are who never knew one generous thought;
Whose heart-pulse never quickened with the joy
Of kind endeavour, or sweet sympathy—
There are too many such!
It is rather alarming, in a conjugal tête-à-tête, when your husband tells you he only comes to complain of your conduct, and Lord Marchmont's severity of aspect was quite awful; however, Henrietta only gave him a look of inquiry, and he went on:—
"It was full three days ago that I told you how I hated the sight of black, yet you wore it yesterday evening, and I observe that your ribands are black this morning."
Tears started in the countess's eyes, but she repressed them; and, forcing a smile, said,
"I am glad to find that it is not my conduct, but my dress, that meets your disapprobation."
"I thought," replied her husband, "and the event proves that I was right in so thinking, that you would only laugh at what I should urge; but women are incapable of a serious thought!"
"Well!" returned Lady Marchmont, "at all events, you must allow me to be flattered at the interest you take in my personal appearance!"
"You are quite mistaken!" exclaimed Lord Marchmont; "I know too well what I owe to my own dignity as a man, to interfere in such feminine trifles, unless peculiar circumstances gave a temporary importance, which certainly does not belong to their ephemeral nature: I object to your wearing black on political grounds."
Henrietta looked at him with undisguised astonishment.
"Pray, madam," asked he, "for whom are you in mourning?"
The tears, with which Henrietta had long been struggling, could be checked no longer, and her voice faltered, as she answered, "For Mrs. Courtenaye: you know she was my kind, my dear friend!"
"I know," returned her husband, "that she was Lord Norbourne's daughter. Are you aware that I have, for a week past, been in the opposition? But I own it is too much to expect that women should understand these matters."
"But what," asked Lady Marchmont, "has that to do with my wearing black?"
"I thought," replied his lordship, " that my reasons would be beyond your comprehension; I will, however, endeavour to adapt them to your understanding. Your wearing mourning for Lord Norbourne's daughter, is an external evidence of alliance between us; now, I am completely opposed to him. I hold his principles, which are those of the Walpole party, to be injurious to the rights which, as a free-born Briton, I am bound to maintain. I beg that you will wear coloured ribands to-night!"
"I am not going out," replied Henrietta.
"I insist upon it that you do. The Prince has sent us an invitation, and it was his royal highness who first drew my attention to your incongruous costume, by asking, 'for whom was Lady Marchmont in mourning?'"
"Your will, my lord, shall be obeyed!" replied Henrietta, almost involuntarily mimicking his solemn tone; "but do you know that Prince Frederick makes very strong love to me? Are you jealous?"
"I could not pay myself so bad a compliment," returned her husband, looking towards the mirror: "it is only acknowledging my taste, to admire my wife; but Lady Marchmont can never forget to whom she belongs!"
"It would be very difficult," thought Henrietta; but she kept her thoughts to herself, while his lordship, satisfied with this display of eloquent authority, was employed in perfuming his handkerchief afresh. "I promise you," said she, after a pause of some minutes, "to wear the last new dress you gave me, it is a triumph of taste!"
Lord Marchmont bowed, and appropriated the compliment as if the taste had been his own, not the milliner's.
"And now," continued his wife, "I have a petition to offer."
"'When Beauty pleads, how can she plead in vain?'"
was his lordship's gallant reply.
"You know Miss Churchill? you used to admire her complexion so much. Well, her very foolish grandmother has mixed herself up in some nonsensical correspondence with the court of St. Germains; or, rather, has let herself be made a tool by Mr. Trevanion, who, I am happy to say, is not Ethel's husband; they arrested him just in time. However, the poor old lady is in great distress; she and her grandaughter are coming up to London, and I wish to give them all possible countenance and assistance. May I ask them to stay here? I am so glad that you are in the opposition!"
"I always," replied Lord Marchmont, after a long pause, during which he vouchsafed not the slightest attention to the earnest and imploring looks of his wife, "have considered women to be superlatively foolish; but so glaring an instance of their folly never before came under my own personal knowledge! Because I am opposed to Sir Robert on some questions, is it immediately to be supposed that I am about to give up my country, my king, and my God?"
"Why, who ever asked you to do any thing of the sort?" ejaculated Henrietta, in utter dismay.
"You did, madam, when you ventured to suppose that I would make my house the rendezvous of conspirators and Jacobins!"
"I did but ask your protection," returned Lady Marchmont, "for a weak old woman, and a friendless young one!"
"Both very dangerous!" replied his lordship: "you may wish to see my head fall on a scaffold! I cannot join in your desire, and I must point your attention to the extreme ingratitude of your proceeding: I believe that you might go through London, and find your house and equipage unequalled; why you should, therefore, wish to engage me in plots and dangers, completely baffles even my penetration!"
"These things never entered my head!" exclaimed Lady Marchmont.
"You see how limited is your foresight: it is fortunate that you are connected with one who looks a little more into the consequences of actions than yourself!" replied he, with a self-complacent smile.
"Well, well," returned she, "I withdraw my request: I was wrong in making it. "Wrong," thought she to herself, "in hoping that you could have one kind and generous feeling!"
"I rarely fail to convince!" said Lord Marchmont, rising: "I believe that we have no further occasion to trespass on each other's time. The morning is the most valuable portion of the day, properly applied. I wish, however, to give you one piece of advice before I leave: have I your permission?"
Henrietta bowed a polite assent.
"Allow me," continued Lord Marchmont, "to enter my protest against your passion for forming female friendships. They are generally useless—often inconvenient. Your friendship with Mrs. Courtenaye induced you to wear mourning, to the great hazard of my political consistency."
"He has only been in the opposition a week!" thought his wife.
"Your friendship for Miss Churchill has induced you to wish that I should lend the sanction of my countenance to traitors and Jacobins. I beg that, for the future, you will follow my example—I have no intimate friends!"
"I should very much wonder if you had!" muttered the countess, as the door closed on the slow and stately exit of her husband.