“Sir,” said Lord Oldborough, “I confess that I began this conversation with the prepossession that you were equal to a performance of which I think highly, but you have succeeded in convincing me that I was mistaken—that you are not equal—but superior to it.”
Upon this compliment, Alfred, as he thought the force of politeness could no farther go, rose, bowed, and prepared to retire.
“Are you in a hurry to leave me, Mr. Percy?”
“Quite the contrary, but I was afraid of encroaching upon your lordship’s goodness; I know that your time is most valuable, and that your lordship has so much business of importance.”
“Perhaps Mr. Alfred Percy may assist me in saving time hereafter.”
Alfred sat down again, as his lordship’s eye desired it.—Lord Oldborough remained for a few moments silent, leaning upon his arm on the table, deep in thought.
“Yes, sir,” said he, “I certainly have, as you say, much business upon my hands. But that is not the difficulty; with hands and heads business is easily arranged and expedited. I have hands and heads enough at my command. Talents of all sorts can be obtained for their price, but that which is above all price, integrity, cannot—there’s the difficulty—there is my difficulty. I have not a single man about me whom I can trust—many who understand my views, but none who feel them—‘Des ames de boue et de fange!’ Wretches who care not if the throne and the country perish, if their little interests—Young gentleman,” said he, recollecting himself, and turning to Alfred, “I feel as if I were speaking to a part of your father when I am speaking to you.”
Alfred felt this, and Lord Oldborough saw that he felt it strongly.
“Then, my dear sir,” said he, “you understand me—I see we understand and shall suit one another. I am in want of a secretary to supply the place of Mr. Cunningham Falconer. Mr. Drakelow is going to Constantinople; but he shall first initiate his successor in the business of his office—a routine, which little minds would make great minds believe is a mystery above ordinary comprehension. But, sir, I have no doubt that you will be expert in a very short time in the technical part—in the routine of office; and if it suits your views, in one word, I should be happy to have you for my private secretary. Take time to consider, if you do not wish to give an answer immediately; but I beg that you will consult no one but yourself—not even your father. And as soon as your mind is made up, let me know your decision.”
After returning thanks to the minister, who had, by this time, risen to a prodigious height in Alfred’s opinion; after having reiterated his thanks with a warmth which was not displeasing, he retired. The account of his feelings on this occasion is given with much truth in his own letter, from which we extract the passage: