At the time when Lord Delamere was in the greatest difficulties, he did not, as too many do, fly to a foreign country, to continue the life of self-indulgence which he could no longer maintain in his own; he did not make it an excuse for forsaking his patrimony, and the seat of his ancestors, that he could not live there in that splendour which he had formerly done; but with a spirit of true pride he said: "the land of my forefathers with bread and water, rather than banishment and luxuries." He made no secret of his poverty; and it was a means of clothing him with honour: for with patience in his solitude he found content, and with content all things. His self-denial enabled him to be generous to others: and the very act of living on his estates, gave bread to hundreds. Lady Delamere went hand in hand with him in all his plans; and they pursued, for some years, with untiring step, the path of duty which they had marked out.
Meanwhile, their family grew up around them, and every thing prospered—for a blessing went along with them: they were adored by their dependents; honoured even by those who hated them for their superiority; and with the occasional visit of a relative or friend their time flowed on, fruitful in its course, and fraught with real and substantial happiness.
But in this their retirement they were not forgotten. It is not those who are fluttering about their empty shewy existence in the sunshine of pleasure and splendour whose memories live longest, even in that very world they so busily court. All great and useful works are the fruit of retirement; all strength of character is formed, not in indulgence and prosperity, but in retreat, and under the grave hand of that schoolmaster Adversity. The corn is not ripened till it receives the first and the latter rain: neither is the moral character formed to its great end, till it has known the storms of adversity. The Delameres had now reaped the fruits of this earthly probation, and they shone forth with lustre, which could not be eclipsed by any tinsel splendour of mere outward grandeur. The children of such parents could not be supposed to be altogether different from themselves, for though there are anomalies in nature, it rarely happens that the offspring are not like either father or mother, still less that they are not ultimately influenced by the example of parents.
When Lord Albert D'Esterre found himself in this happy society, so different, and yet, as he acknowledged to himself in every passing moment, so superior to that in which he had lately lived, he felt as if he also were of another race of beings; a pleased sort of self-satisfaction took possession of him: so much are we affected by outward things, so much does the mind reflect the hues by which it is surrounded. Are these, he thought, the persons whose names I have been accustomed to hear coupled with ridicule or condemnation—are these the persons who are designated vulgar? Strange indeed is the misnomer! And that there were many in the same grade, whose characters shed lustre upon their high stations, many who constituted the true character of British nobles, was a truth that Lord Albert had not sufficiently considered; for where is there a body in any country more worthy of respect and admiration than the real nobility of our land? It is only to be lamented that the errors of the few, and the assumed superiority of the ton, should have given ground for a false estimate of those characters of solid worth, whose virtues and whose ancient ancestry reflect a mutual value on each other; and the moral tranquillity of whose lives is at once a dignified refutation of the depreciation of high birth, and the best confirmation of its real consequence. But the middling classes, those who envy their superiors, or those who would attain to a distinction in society to which they have no immediate claim, are too apt in these days to form a mistaken judgment, founded upon newspaper reports or the spurious publications of the day, in which much false representation is mingled with some gross truths, and the delinquency of the few ascribed to the conduct of the many. Nor is it these alone, who are thus led into an erroneous opinion. The public press produces a circulation of good and evil, of truth or falsehood, universally; and wherever the latter creeps in, there ought to be an antidote administered. It should not be suffered to smoulder and gain force till it produce some serious mischief.
It should be told that the few individuals, whose idle and trifling lives, and whose tenour of conduct lay them open to contumely and blame, do not constitute the great mass of English nobility. So far from it, they are persons whose lives differ as much from the general existence of their compeers, as does the life of one individual in any class from that of another. Vice is not confined to nobility because a few great names have sullied its brightness. It is a false conclusion to consider them as examples of their caste, any more than the man in inferior station, whose delinquency is proved, and who suffers the penalty of the law, is to be taken as a specimen of the people at large.
In the course of conversation at Lady Dunmelraise's dinner, the ensuing drawing-room was spoken of. "I am one of those old-fashioned persons," said Lady Delamere, "who feel a real pleasure in the thought of going to court—for first, I shall have the gratification of seeing my Sovereign, and of presenting to him another branch of that parent stock, who are personally as well as on principle attached to him and to his house. And though, doubtless, there are many who share in these feelings, yet I will yield the palm of loyalty and zeal to none; and, in the second place, I do very firmly believe that, in as far as society goes, a drawing-room does much moral good. There are certain lines drawn, which are useful to remind persons in general, that vice is contemned, and virtue honoured; and there is a distinction, too, of time, and place, and situation, which is not yet laid aside; I heartily wish there were many more drawing-rooms than there are."
Lord Delamere fully agreed with his wife in this opinion—the young people did not giggle and whisper, "what a bore it will be," but coincided with their parents. Lady Mary Delamere too declared, that she thought there was no occasion better suited to shew off real beauty to advantage than the splendour of a mid-day assembly, where every thing conspired to give people an air of decorative style which they could not possess at any other public meeting. "What pleasure," she continued, "I shall have in going with my cousin Adeline, and gathering up all the stray words of admiration, which I am sure will abundantly fall in her praise. Do tell me, love," addressing herself to her in a half whisper, while the rest of the persons at table conversed on other matters, "do tell me of what colour is your dress, and how it is to be trimmed?"
"Really," replied Lady Adeline, colouring as though she had committed a crime, "I have not thought about it. All I begged of Mamma was, that it might be very simple, and, I believe, of a rose-colour—for a rose is my favourite flower."
"Dear child," said the good-natured Lady Mary, "you must think about it now, for the day is drawing near, and I shall be so disappointed if you are not well dressed."