CHAPTER I.
_His Grace Meets an Early Love_
LADY APHRODITE and the Duke of St. James were for the first time parted;and with an absolute belief on the lady's side, and an avowed convictionon the gentleman's, that it was impossible to live asunder, theyseparated, her Ladyship shedding some temporary tears, and his Gracevowing eternal fidelity.
It was the crafty Lord Fitz-pompey who brought about this catastrophe.Having secured his nephew as a visitor to Malthorpe, by allowing himto believe that the Graftons would form part of the summer coterie,his Lordship took especial care that poor Lady Aphrodite should not beinvited. 'Once part them, once get him to Malthorpe alone,' mused theexperienced Peer, 'and he will be emancipated. I am doing him, too, thegreatest kindness. What would I have given, when a young man, to havehad such an uncle!'
The Morning Post announced with a sigh the departure of the Duke of St.James to the splendid festivities of Malthorpe; and also apprised theworld that Sir Lucius and Lady Aphrodite were entertaining a numerousand distinguished party at their seat, Cleve Park, Cambridgeshire.
There was a constant bustle kept up at Malthorpe, and the young Duke washourly permitted to observe that, independent of all private feeling, itwas impossible for the most distinguished nobleman to ally himself witha more considered family. There was a continual swell of guests dashingdown and dashing away, like the ocean; brilliant as its foam, numerousas its waves. But there was one permanent inhabitant of this princelymansion far more interesting to our hero than the evanescent crowds whorose like bubbles, glittered, broke, and disappeared.
Once more wandering in that park of Malthorpe where had passed theinnocent days of his boyhood, his thoughts naturally recurred tothe sweet companion who had made even those hours of happiness morefelicitous. Here they had rambled, here they had first tried theirponies, there they had nearly fallen, there he had quite saved her; herewere the two very elms where St. Maurice made for them a swing, here wasthe very keeper's cottage of which she had made for him a drawing, andwhich he still retained. Dear girl! And had she disappointed the romanceof his boyhood; had the experience the want of which had allowed himthen to be pleased so easily, had it taught him to be ashamed of thosedays of affection? Was she not now the most gentle, the most graceful,the most beautiful, the most kind? Was she not the most wife-like womanwhose eyes had ever beamed with tenderness? Why, why not at once close acareer which, though short, yet already could yield reminiscences whichmight satisfy the most craving admirer of excitement? But there was LadyAphrodite; yet that must end. Alas! on his part, it had commenced inlevity; he feared, on hers, it must terminate in anguish. Yet, though heloved his cousin; though he could not recall to his memory the womanwho was more worthy of being his wife, he could not also conceal fromhimself that the feelings which impelled him were hardly so romantic ashe thought should have inspired a youth of one-and-twenty when he musedon the woman he loved best. But he knew life, and he felt convinced thata mistress and a wife must always be different characters. A combinationof passion with present respect and permanent affection he supposed tobe the delusion of romance writers. He thought he must marry Caroline,partly because he must marry sooner or later; partly because he hadnever met a woman whom he had loved so much, and partly because he felthe should be miserable if her destiny in life were not, in some way orother, connected with his own. 'Ah! if she had but been my sister!'
After a little more cogitation, the young Duke felt much inclined tomake his cousin a Duchess; but time did not press. After Doncaster hemust spend a few weeks at Cleve, and then he determined to come toan explanation with Lady Aphrodite. In the meantime, Lord Fitz-pompeysecretly congratulated himself on his skilful policy, as he perceivedhis nephew daily more engrossed with his daughter. Lady Caroline, likeall unaffected and accomplished women, was seen to great effect in thecountry.
There, while they feed their birds, tend their flowers, and tune theirharp, and perform those more sacred, but not less pleasing, duties whichbecome the daughter of a great proprietor, they favourably contrast withthose more modish damsels who, the moment they are freed from the Parkand from Willis's, begin fighting for silver arrows and patronisingcounty balls.
September came, and brought some relief to those who were suffering inthe inferno of provincial ennui; but this is only the purgatory to theParadise of _battues_. Yet September has its days of slaughter; andthe young Duke gained some laurels, with the aid of friend Egg, friendPurdy, and Manton. And the Premier galloped down sixty miles in onemorning. He sacked his cover, made a light bet with St. James on thefavourite, lunched standing, and was off before night; for he had onlythree days' holiday, and had to visit Lord Protest, Lord Content, andLord Proxy. So, having knocked off four of his crack peers, he gallopedback to London to flog up his secretaries.
And the young Duke was off too. He had promised to spend a week withCharles Annesley and Lord Squib, who had taken some Norfolk Baronet'sseat for the autumn, and while he was at Spa were thinning hispreserves. It was a week! What fantastic dissipation! One day, thebrains of three hundred hares made a _pate_ for Charles Annesley.Oh, Heliogabalus! you gained eternal fame for what is now 'done in acorner!'