"Ah, I see; you classify us somewhat in this way: first, if you can get it, rich, orthodox, and white; second, rich, heterdox, and white; third, rich, orthodox, and black. Now, in my opinion, to attach any importance whatever to colour is wicked. My objections to Mr Chundango do not apply to his skin, which is as good as any other, but to his heart, which I am afraid is black. I prefer a pure heart in a dark skin to a black heart in a white one," and I looked significantly at her ladyship. "Supposing that out of friendship for Grandon I should do the absurd thing of withdrawing my pretensions, what would happen?"
"I should insist upon Ursula's marrying Mr Chundango. I tell you in confidence, Lord Frank, that pecuniary reasons, which I will explain more fully at another time, render it absolutely necessary that she should marry a man with means within the next six months. The credit of our whole family is at stake; but it is impossible for me to enter into details now." At this moment the luncheon was announced. I followed Lady Broadhem mechanically towards the dining-room, but instead of entering it went up-stairs like one in a dream, and ordered my servant to make arrangements for my immediate departure. I pulled an arm-chair near my bedroom fire, and gazed hopelessly into it.
People call me odd. I wonder really whether the conflicts of which my brain is the occasional arena are fiercer than those of others. I wonder whether other people's thoughts are as like clouds as mine are—sometimes, when it is stormy, grouping themselves in wild fantastic forms; sometimes chasing each other through vacancy, for no apparent purpose; sometimes melting away in "intense inane;" and again consolidating themselves, black and lowering, till they burst in a passionate explosion. What are they doing now? and I tried in vain to stop the mental kaleidoscope which shifted itself so rapidly that I could not catch one combination of thought before it was succeeded by another; but always the same prominent figures dodging madly about the chambers of my brain—Chundango, Ursula, Lady Broadhem, and Grandon; Lady Broadhem, Chundango, Grandon, and Ursula—backwards and forwards, forwards and backwards, like some horrid word that I had to spell in a game of letters, and could never bring right. Love, friendship, hate, pity, admiration, treachery—more words to spell, ever combining wrongly, and never letting me rest, till I thought something must crack under the strain. Then mockingly came a voice ringing in my ears—Peace, peace, peace—and I fancied myself lulled to rest in her arms, and I heard the cooing of doves mingle with the soft murmur of her voice as she leant wistfully over me, and I revelled in that most fatal of all nightmares—the nightmare of those who, perishing of hunger and thirst, die of imaginary banquets. "Sweet illusion," I said, "dear to me as reality, brood over my troubled spirit, deaden its pain, heal its wounds, and weave around my being this delicious spell for ever." Then suddenly, as though my brain had been a magazine into which a spark had fallen, it blazed up; my hair bristled, and drops stood upon my forehead, for a great fear had fallen upon me. It had invaded me with the force of an overwhelming torrent, carrying all before it. It said, "Whence is the calm that soothes you? Infatuated dreamer, think you it is the subsiding of the storm, and not rather the lull that precedes it? Beware of the sleep of the frozen, from which there is no waking." What was this? was my mind regaining its balance, or was it going to lose it for ever? Most horrid doubt! the very thought was so much in the scale on the wrong side. Oh for something to lean upon—some strong stay of common-sense to support me! I yearned for the practical—some fact on which to build. "I have got it," I exclaimed suddenly. "There must be some osseous matter behind my dura mater!" I shall never forget the consolation which this notion gave me: it relieved me from any further psychological responsibility, so to speak; I gave up mental analysis. I attributed the keen susceptibility of my æsthetic nature to this cause, and accepted it as I would the gout, without a murmur. Still I needed repose and solitude, so I determined to go to Flityville and arrange my ideas, no longer alarmed at the confusion in which they were, but with the steadfast purpose of disentangling them quietly, as I would an interesting knot. Hitherto I had been tearing at it madly and making it worse; now I had got the end of the skein—"osseous matter"—and would soon unravel it. So I descended calmly to the drawing-room.
I found it empty, but it occurred to me I had left my letter to Lady Ursula in the recess, and in the agitation attending my interview with Lady Broadhem, had forgotten to go back for it. I pushed back the portière, and saw seated at the writing-table Lady Ursula herself. She looked pale and nervous, while I felt overwhelmed with confusion and embarrassment. This was the more trying, as many years have elapsed since I have experienced any such sensations.
"Oh, you don't happen to have seen a letter lying about anywhere, do you, Lady Ursula?" said I. "It ought to be under your hand, for I left it exactly on that spot."
"No," she said; "I found mamma writing here when I came, and she took a packet of letters away with her; perhaps she put yours among them by mistake. She will be back from her drive almost immediately."
"I hope so," said I. "I should be sorry to leave without seeing her."
"To leave, Lord Frank! I thought you were going to stay till Monday." She looked up rather appealingly, I thought, as if my presence would have been a satisfaction to her under the circumstances; and I saw, as I returned her steady earnest gaze, that she little guessed the purport of the missing letter.
At that moment my head began to swim, and the figures to dance about in my brain again. Chundango and Grandon seemed locked in a death-struggle, and Ursula, with dishevelled hair, trying to separate them, while Lady Broadhem, in the background, was clapping her hands and urging them on. I seemed spinning round the group with such rapidity that I was obliged to steady myself with one hand against the back of Lady Ursula's chair.
"What's the matter? what's the matter, Lord Frank?" she exclaimed.