"The idol is doing it very fairly," said Willoughby, "on his own account, especially in London. Wherever I go his popularity is decidedly on the wane amongst his old supporters."
"Let that go on for a year or two," said Lord Montagu, "and then, when the inevitable compact is made with Parnell, the great party which has had its own way in England for so many years, at any rate up to 1874, will crumble to pieces."
The talk was commonplace as beseemed the occasion; but Sir John's object in bringing his men together was practically gained. Before the evening was over, Lord Montagu was favorably impressed by Campion's ability and shrewdness, whilst Sydney was more disposed from that time to regard Plumley as one of the most likely aspirants for the leadership of his party.
In the drawing-room, Nan had made herself as popular as her husband was making himself in the dining-room. She was greatly improved by her marriage, many of the matrons thought; she was more dignified and far less abrupt than she used to be. She had always been considered pretty, and her manners were gaining the finish that they had once perhaps lacked; in fact, she had found out that Sydney set a high value on social distinction and prestige; and, resolving to please him in this as in everything else, she had set herself of late to soften down any girlish harshness or brusquerie, such as Lady Pynsent used sometimes to complain of in her, and to develop the gracious softness of manner which Sydney liked to see.
"She will be quite the grande dame, by and by," said one lady, watching her that night. "She has some very stately airs already, and yet she is absolutely without affectation. Mr. Campion is a very lucky man."
Nan was asked to play; but, although she acknowledged that she still kept up her practising, she had not brought her violin with her. She was half afraid, moreover, that Sydney did not like her to perform. She fancied that he had an objection to any sort of display of either learning or accomplishment on a woman's part; she had gathered this impression from the way in which he spoke of his sister Lettice. And she did not want to expose herself to the same sort of criticism.
One of the younger ladies at Lady Pynsent's that night was a Mrs. Westray, wife of the eminently respectable member for Bloomsbury, who, as a city merchant of great wealth and influence, was one of the invited guests. Mrs. Westray was by way of being a literary lady, having printed a volume of her "Travels." Unfortunately she had only traveled in France, over well-worn tracks, and her book appeared just after those of two other ladies, with whom the critics had dealt very kindly indeed; so that the last comer had not been treated quite so well as she deserved. Nevertheless she keenly enjoyed her reputation as a woman of letters; and having found on inquiry that Sydney Campion was the brother of the lady whose novel had gained such a brilliant success in the spring, she asked her husband to bring him to her.
"Oh, why does Miss Campion live out of England?" Mrs. Westray asked him, after gushing a little about his sister's "exquisite romance". "Surely she does not mean to do so always?"
"No," said Sydney. "I hope not. She was rather seriously ill last Christmas, and we thought it best for her to live in Italy until she quite recovered. I trust that we shall have her back again before the end of the year." He was as yet unacquainted with the history of his sister's movements.
"I am so glad to hear it. I want very much to make her acquaintance."