“You cannot tell what she will do—until she does it,” he answered. “She may have great talents.”
“Well, one forgets that when Voltaire said, ‘Il faut cultiver notre jardin,’ he was quoting, with sardonic irony, Saint Teresa! You cannot be pleased at Mrs. Parflete's decision. The theatre in England is a sport—not an art. In France it is an art, but,” he added drily, “it embraces more than one profession.”
“Whether a woman be a saint, a queen, or an actress—once before the public—she is exposed to severe discipline. And I don't fear for this one. She will take her revenge on life by laughing at it.”
“I daresay. D'Alchingen calls her un peu étourdi. She has the audacity—she may have the fortune of despair. Confess—you have run a little wild about her.”
“I ran off the track, if you like,” said Orange, smiling.
“Women fascinate the hearts, but they do not affect the destinies of determined men,” returned Disraeli. “If you have not won anything by this affair, it would be hard to say what winning is. There is but one feeling and one opinion about the really courageous stand you have made.”
“I must gain confidence all the same in my own ability to keep my resolves when they are clear to me. I once prided myself in that ability as the one gem in my character.”
“You may laugh at yourself as much as you please. Beauty is as well worth admiring as anything on earth, and the world is better lost for love, than love for the world. At least, let us say so. I met Reckage at the Travellers' yesterday, and had some talk with him about his Association. I think it far better that Aumerle should not resign, as he could, and probably would, be very mischievous as a freelance. Reckage is all for shaking him off, but these things, in any circumstances, should never be forced.”
“I advised Reckage myself to sound each member of the Committee privately. Then, at the general meeting, he could form some just estimate of the difficulties in his way, and in their way.”
“Reckage, though a mean fellow, might give you an opportunity to work a strong Sub-Committee,” suggested Disraeli. “One cannot calculate on the course of a man so variable and impulsive. He proposes to get rid of Aumerle, and make concessions to his set. It is an unhappy policy, and always unhappily applied, to imagine that men can be reconciled by partial concessions. I attribute much of Reckage's behaviour to his fear of society. Society itself, however, does not practise any of the virtues which it demands from the individual. It ridicules the highest motives, and degrades the most heroic achievements. It is fed with emotions and spectacles: it cries, laughs, and condemns without knowledge and without enthusiasm. Pitiable indeed is the politician who makes society his moral barometer.”