“No,” said Vivian, rising as he finished shaving himself; “no, my lord, I shall never more distinguish myself, if I abandon the principles I believe to be just and true. What eloquence I have—if I have any—has arisen from my being in earnest: I shall speak ill—I shall not be able to speak at all—when I get up against my conscience.”
“Oh!” said Lord Glistonbury, laughing, “your romantic patriotism may be very nice in its feelings; but, believe me, it will not deprive you of the use of your speech. Look at every one of the fine orators of our times, and name me one, if you can, who has not spoken, and spoken equally well, on both sides of the house; ay, and on both sides of most political questions. Come, come, you’ll find you will get on quite as well as they got on before you, hey?”
“You will find that I shall be of no use to you—that I shall be a dead weight on your hands.”
“You a dead weight! you, who are formed to be—now, really, without flattery—you know there’s no occasion for flattery between you and me—to be the soul, and, in time, the head of a party——Stay!—I know all you are going to say, but give me leave to judge—You know there’s my own nephew, a very clever young man, no doubt, he is allowed to be; and yet, you see, I make no comparison between you. I assure you I am a judge in these matters, and you see the house has confirmed my judgment; and, what is more—for I can keep nothing from you—if it won’t make you too vain, and make you set too high a price upon yourself, which will be very troublesome in the present case; but, I say, be that as it may, I will frankly own to you, that I believe you have been of essential service in procuring me this great favourite object of my life, the marquisate.”
“I, my lord! impossible!—for I never took the slightest step toward procuring it.”
“Pardon me, you took the most effectual step, without knowing it, perhaps. You spoke so well in opposition, that you made it the interest of ministry to muzzle you; and there was no way so effectual of getting at you as through me, I being your father-in-law and you my heir. You don’t see the secret concatenation of these things with a glance as I do, who have been used to them so long. And there was no way of coming to the point with me without the marquisate—that was my sine qua non; and you see I gained my point—by your means, chiefly, I am free to allow—though Marmaduke would gladly persuade me it was by his negotiating. But I do you justice; I did you justice, too, in more than words, when I stipulated for that place for you, which, in fact, I knew you could not go on much longer without. So, my dear Vivian, all this explained to our mutual satisfaction, we have nothing more to do but to shake hands upon it and go down stairs; for I have engaged myself and Secretary——to breakfast with you, and he has full powers, and is to carry back our capitulation—and,” continued Lord Glistonbury, looking out of the window, “here’s our friend’s carriage.”
“Oh, my lord, it is not yet too late!” cried Vivian; “it may yet be arranged otherwise. Is there no way—no possibility——”
A loud knock at the house door.
“I wish to Heaven, my lord!——”
“So do I wish to Heaven, with all my soul, that you would finish this nonsense, my dear Vivian, and come down to breakfast. Come, come, come!—Hey, hey, hey!—This is absolutely too ridiculous, and I must go, if you don’t. Only consider a political breakfast of this nature!”