On the morning of the same day that Mr Egerton and his friend Mr Bernerswalked down together to the House of Commons, as appears in our lastchapter, Egremont had made a visit to his mother, who had married sincethe commencement of this history the Marquis of Deloraine, a great noblewho had always been her admirer. The family had been established by alawyer, and recently in our history. The present Lord Deloraine, thoughhe was gartered and had been a viceroy, was only the grandson of anattorney, but one who, conscious of his powers, had been called to thebar and died an ex-chancellor. A certain talent was hereditary in thefamily. The attorney's son had been a successful courtier, and hadplanted himself in the cabinet for a quarter of a century. It was amaxim in this family to make great alliances; so the blood progressivelyrefined, and the connections were always distinguished by power andfashion. It was a great hit, in the second generation of an earldom,to convert the coronet into that of a marquis; but the son of the oldchancellor lived in stirring times, and cruised for his object with thesame devoted patience with which Lord Anson watched for the galleon. Itcame at last, as everything does if men are firm and calm. The presentmarquis, through his ancestry and his first wife, was allied with thehighest houses of the realm and looked their peer. He might havebeen selected as the personification of aristocracy: so noble was hisappearance, so distinguished his manner; his bow gained every eye, hissmile every heart. He was also very accomplished, and not ill-informed;had read a little, and thought a little, and was in every respect a mostsuperior man; alike famed for his favour by the fair, and the constancyof his homage to the charming Lady Marney.
Lord Deloraine was not very rich; but he was not embarrassed, and hadthe appearance of princely wealth; a splendid family mansion with acourtyard; a noble country-seat with a magnificent park, includinga quite celebrated lake, but with very few farms attached to it.He however held a good patent place which had been conferred on hisdescendants by the old chancellor, and this brought in annually somethousands. His marriage with Lady Marney was quite an affair of theheart; her considerable jointure however did not diminish the lustre ofhis position.
It was this impending marriage, and the anxiety of Lady Marney to seeEgremont's affairs settled before it took place, which about a yearand a half ago had induced her to summon him so urgently from Mowedale,which the reader perhaps may have not forgotten. And now Egremont ispaying one of his almost daily visits to his mother at Deloraine House.
"A truce to politics, my dear Charles," said Lady Marney; "you must bewearied with my inquiries. Besides, I do not take the sanguine viewof affairs in which some of our friends indulge. I am one of those whothink the pear is not ripe. These men will totter on, and longerperhaps than even themselves imagine. I want to speak of somethingvery different. To-morrow, my dear son, is your birth-day. Now I shouldgrieve were it to pass without your receiving something which showedthat its recollection was cherished by your mother. But of all sillythings in the world, the silliest is a present that is not wanted. Itdestroys the sentiment a little perhaps but it enhances the gift, if Iask you in the most literal manner to assist me in giving you somethingthat really would please you?"
"But how can I, my dear mother?" said Egremont. "You have ever been sokind and so generous that I literally want nothing."
"Oh! you cannot be such a fortunate man as to want nothing, Charles,"said Lady Marney with a smile. "A dressing-case you have: your rooms arefurnished enough: all this is in my way; but there are such things ashorses and guns of which I know nothing, but which men always require.You must want a horse or a gun, Charles. Well, I should like you toget either; the finest, the most valuable that money can purchase. Or abrougham, Charles; what do you think of a new brougham? Would you likethat Barker should build you a brougham?"
"You are too good, my dear mother. I have horses and guns enough; and mypresent carriage is all I can desire."
"You will not assist me, then? You are resolved that I shall dosomething very stupid. For to give you something I am determined."
"Well my dear mother," said Egremont smiling and looking round, "give mesomething that is here."
"Choose then," said Lady Marney, and she looked round the blue satinwalls of her apartment, covered with cabinet pictures of exquisite art,and then at her tables crowded with precious and fantastic toys.
"It would be plunder, my dear mother," said Egremont.
"No, no; you have said it; you shall choose something. Will you havethose vases?" and she pointed to an almost matchless specimen of oldSevres porcelain.
"They are in too becoming a position to be disturbed," said Egremont,"and would ill suit my quiet chambers, where a bronze or a marble ismy greatest ornament. If you would permit me, I would rather choose apicture?"
"Then select one at once," said Lady Marney; "I make no reservation,except that Watteau, for it was given me by your father before we weremarried. Shall it be this Cuyp?"
"I would rather choose this," said Egremont, and he pointed to theportrait of a saint by Allori: the face of a beautiful young girl,radiant and yet solemn, with rich tresses of golden brown hair, andlarge eyes dark as night, fringed with ebon lashes that hung upon theglowing cheek.
"Ah! you choose that! Well, that was a great favourite of poor SirThomas Lawrence. But for my part I have never seen any one in the leastlike it, and I think I am sure that you have not."
"It reminds me--" said Egremont musingly.
"Of what you have dreamed," said Lady Marney.
"Perhaps so," said Egremont; "indeed I think it must have been a dream."
"Well, the vision shall still hover before you," said his mother; "andyou shall find this portrait to-morrow over your chimney in the Albany."
Book 4 Chapter 3