Vivian resolved to retract the engagement he had just made with Lord Glistonbury and the secretary, and he waited only for a pause in their conversation to explain himself. But, before any pause occurred, more company came in,—the secretary hurried away, saying to Vivian, who would have stopped him at the door, “Oh, my dear sir, every thing is settled now, and you must be with us in the house to-night—and you will find the whole business will go on as smoothly as possible, if gentlemen will but act together, and strengthen the hands of government. I beg pardon for breaking away—but so many people are waiting for me—and any thing further we can settle when we meet in the house.”
Lord Glistonbury also refused to listen to farther explanations—said that all was settled, and that it was impossible to make any recantations.
CHAPTER XV.
The hour of going to the House of Commons at length arrived; Lord Glistonbury saw that Vivian was so much out of spirits, and in such confusion of mind, that he began to fear that our hero’s own account of himself was just, and that he would not be able to command ideas, or even words, when he was to speak in opposition to what he called his principles and his conscience. “This son of mine, instead of being our great Apollo, will be a dead weight on our hands, unless we can contrive to raise his spirits.”
So, to raise his spirits, Lord Glistonbury accompanied him to the coffee-room of the house, and insisted upon his taking some refreshment before he should attempt to speak. His lordship fortified him with bumper after bumper, till at last Vivian came up to the speaking point. He took his seat in his new place in the house, and, endeavouring to brave away the sense of shame, rose to speak. Notwithstanding the assistance of the wine, and the example of Mr. Marmaduke Lidhurst, who spoke before him with undaunted assurance, Vivian could scarcely get on with a hesitating, confused, inconsistent speech, uttered in so low and indistinct a voice, that the reporters in the gallery complained that they could not catch this honourable member’s meaning, or that his words did not reach them. Conscious of his failure, and still more conscious of its cause, he retired again to the coffee-room as soon as he had finished speaking, and again Lord Glistonbury plied him with wine, saying that he would find he would do very well in reply presently. It happened that Lord Glistonbury was called away—Vivian remained. Mr. Wharton, with a party of his friends, entered the coffee-room. Wharton seemed much heated both with wine and anger—he was talking eagerly to the gentlemen with him, and he pronounced the words, “Infamous conduct!—Shabby!—Paltry fellow!” so loud, that all the coffee-room turned to listen. Colonel S——, a gentleman who was one of Wharton’s party, but who had a good opinion of Vivian, at this moment took him by the arm, and, drawing him aside, whispered, in confidence, that he was persuaded there had been some mistake in the arrangements, which, as it was reported, Lord Glistonbury had just made with the ministry, for that Mr. Wharton and many of his lordship’s former party, complained of having been shamefully deserted. “And to break our word and honour to our party, is a thing no gentleman can do. Wharton had a direct promise from his lordship, that he never would come in till he should come in along with him. And now it is confidently said, that Lord Glistonbury has made his bargain for his own marquisate, and provided only for himself, his nephew, and his son-in-law.”
Thrown into the utmost consternation by the idea of this double forfeiture of honour, this breach both of public and private faith, Vivian, after thanking Colonel S—— for his friendly manner of communicating this information, and declaring that the transaction was totally unknown to him, begged that the colonel would do him the favour and the justice to be present when he should require an explanation from Lord Glistonbury. To this Colonel S—— consented, and they hastened in search of his lordship: his lordship was not to be found; but Mr. Marmaduke Lidhurst was, however, in the coffee-room, and upon Vivian’s referring to him, he could not deny the truth of the charge, though he used all his powers of circumlocution to evade giving a direct answer. The shame, the indignation, that rapidly succeeded to each other in Vivian’s countenance, sufficiently convinced Colonel S—— that he had no share in the private part of this disgraceful transaction; and he very handsomely assured Vivian, that he would set the matter in its true point of view with his friends. Marmaduke soon found a pretence to withdraw—some member was speaking in the house, whom he must hear, he said, and away he went.
At this moment Mr. Wharton, who was walking down the room with his friends, passed by Vivian, and, as he passed, said,
“That private vices are public benefits, we all know; but that public vices are private benefits, some of us, alas! have yet to learn. But I’d have that little, whiffling, most noble and puissant prince expectant, his majesty’s right trusty and entirely beloved cousin elect, know, that plain Bob Wharton is not a man to be duped and deserted with impunity.”