Lord Glistonbury’s countenance exhibited, in quick alternation, a look of absolute determination and of utter indecision. At length, with abrupt effort, he said, “Vivian, have you seen the papers to-day?”
“The newspapers?—yes!—no!—They are on the table—I did not look at them—Is there any thing extraordinary?”
“Yes, faith!—extraordinary, very extraordinary!—But it is not here—it is not there—this is not the right paper—it is not in your paper. That’s extraordinary, too”—(then feeling in both pockets)—“I was a fool not to bring it with me—May be I have it—Yes, here it is!—Not public news, but private.”
Vivian was all expectation, for he imagined that something about Lady Julia was coming. Lord Glistonbury, who, in his commerce with public men, had learned the art of paying in words, to gain time when in danger of a bankruptcy of ideas, went on, stringing sentences together, without much meaning, whilst he was collecting his thoughts and studying the countenance of his auditor.
“You recollect my suggestions the last time I had the honour of speaking to you on a particular subject. I confess, Mr. Lidhurst’s conduct does not meet my ideas of propriety; but other persons are free to form what judgment they think fit upon the occasion. I shall submit the matter to you, Mr. Vivian, feeling myself called upon to come forward immediately to explain it to your satisfaction; and I do not fear to commit myself, by stating at once my sentiments, and the light in which it strikes me; for there must be some decision shown, somehow or other, and on some side or other.——Decision is all in all in public business, as the great Bacon or somebody says—and nobody knows that better than Marmaduke.”
Here his lordship grew warm, and quitting his parliamentary cant, assumed his familiar style.
“Gad! he has stolen a march upon us—out-generalled us—but, in my private opinion, not in the handsomest style possible—Hey, Vivian?—Hey?”
“My dear lord, I have not heard the fact yet,” said Vivian.
“Oh! the fact is simply—Look here, he has without my encouragement or concurrence—and, indeed, as he very well knew, contrary to my approbation and wishes—gone, and declared himself candidate for this county; and here’s his fine flourishing, patriotic, damned advertisement in the paper—‘To the gentlemen, clergy, and freeholders of the county.’——Gad! how it startled me this morning! When I first saw it I rubbed my eyes, and could hardly believe it was Marmaduke. Though I pique myself on knowing a man’s style at the first line, yet I could not have believed it was his, unless I had seen his name at full length in these great abominable characters—‘John Marmaduke Lidhurst.’—‘Glastonbury Castle!’ too—as if I had countenanced the thing, or had promised my support; when he knew, that but yesterday I was arguing the point with him in my study, and told him I was engaged to you. Such an ungentlemanlike trick!—for you know it reduces me to the dilemma of supporting a man who is only my friend, against my nearest relation by blood, which, of course, would have an odd and awkward appearance in the eyes of the world!”
Vivian expressed much concern for his lordship’s difficulties; but observed that the world would be very unjust if it blamed him, and he was sure his lordship had too much decision of character.