A week or ten days after this, Alice, when she came down to the breakfast-parlour one morning, found herself alone with Mr. Bott. It was the fashion at Matching Priory for people to assemble rather late in the day. The nominal hour for breakfast was ten, and none of the ladies of the party were ever seen before that. Some of the gentlemen would breakfast earlier, especially on hunting mornings; and on some occasions the ladies, when they came together, would find themselves altogether deserted by their husbands and brothers. On this day it was fated that Mr. Bott alone should represent the sterner sex, and when Alice entered the room he was standing on the rug with his back to the fire, waiting till the appearance of some other guest should give him the sanction necessary for the commencement of his morning meal. Alice, when she saw him, would have retreated had it been possible, for she had learned to dislike him greatly, and was, indeed, almost afraid of him; but she could not do so without making her flight too conspicuous.
"Do you intend to prolong your stay here, Miss Vavasor?" said Mr. Bott, taking advantage of the first moment at which she looked up from a letter which she was reading.
"For a few more days, I think," said Alice.
"Ah--I'm glad of that. Mr. Palliser has pressed me so much to remain till he goes to the Duke's, that I cannot get away sooner. As I am an unmarried man myself, I can employ my time as well in one place as in another;--at this time of the year at least."
"You must find that very convenient," said Alice.
"Yes, it is convenient. You see in my position,--Parliamentary position, I mean,--I am obliged, as a public man, to act in concert with others. A public man can be of no service unless he is prepared to do that. We must give and take, you know, Miss Vavasor."
As Miss Vavasor made no remark in answer to this, Mr. Bott continued--"I always say to the men of my party,--of course I regard myself as belonging to the extreme Radicals."
"Oh, indeed!" said Alice.
"Yes. I came into Parliament on that understanding; and I have never seen any occasion as yet to change any political opinion that I have expressed. But I always say to the gentlemen with whom I act, that nothing can be done if we don't give and take. I don't mind saying to you, Miss Vavasor, that I look upon our friend, Mr. Palliser, as the most rising public man in the country. I do, indeed."
"I am happy to hear you say so," said his victim, who found herself driven to make some remark.
"And I, as an extreme Radical, do not think I can serve my party better than by keeping in the same boat with him, as long as it will hold the two. 'He'll make a Government hack of you,' a friend of mine said to me the other day. 'And I'll make a Manchester school Prime Minister of him,' I replied. I rather think I know what I'm about, Miss Vavasor."
"No doubt," said Alice.
"And so does he;--and so does he. Mr. Palliser is not the man to be led by the nose by any one. But it's a fair system of give and take. You can't get on in politics without it. What a charming woman is your relative, Lady Glencowrer! I remember well what you said to me the other evening."
"Do you?" said Alice.
"And I quite agree with you that confidential intercourse regarding dear friends should not be lightly made."
"Certainly not," said Alice.
"But there are occasions, Miss Vavasor; there are occasions when the ordinary laws by which we govern our social conduct must be made somewhat elastic."
"I don't think this one of them, Mr. Bott."
"Is it not? Just listen to me for one moment, Miss Vavasor. Our friend, Mr. Palliser, I am proud to say, relies much upon my humble friendship. Our first connection has, of course, been political; but it has extended beyond that, and has become pleasantly social;--I may say, very pleasantly social."
"What a taste Mr. Palliser must have!" Alice thought to herself.
"But I need not tell you that Lady Glencowrer is--very young; we may say, very young indeed."
"Mr. Bott, I will not talk to you about Lady Glencora Palliser."
This Alice said in a determined voice, and with all the power of resistance at her command. She frowned too, and looked savagely at Mr. Bott. But he was a man of considerable courage, and knew how to bear such opposition without flinching.
"When I tell you, Miss Vavasor, that I speak solely with a view to her domestic happiness!"
"I don't think that she wishes to have any such guardian of her happiness."
"But if he wishes it, Miss Vavasor! Now I have the means of knowing that he has the greatest reliance on your judgement."
Hereupon Alice got up with the intention of leaving the room, but she was met at the door by Mrs. Conway Sparkes.
"Are you running from your breakfast, Miss Vavasor?" said she.
"No, Mrs. Sparkes; I am running from Mr. Bott," said Alice, who was almost beside herself with anger.
"Mr. Bott, what is this?" said Mrs. Sparkes. "Ha, ha, ha," laughed Mr. Bott.
Alice returned to the room, and Mrs. Sparkes immediately saw that she had in truth been running from Mr. Bott. "I hope I shall be able to keep the peace," said she. "I trust his offence was not one that requires special punishment."
"Ha, ha, ha," again laughed Mr. Bott, who rather liked his position.
Alice was very angry with herself, feeling that she had told more of the truth to Mrs. Sparkes than she should have done, unless she was prepared to tell the whole. As it was, she wanted to say something, and did not know what to say; but her confusion was at once stopped by the entrance of Lady Glencora.
"Mrs. Sparkes, good morning," said Lady Glencora. "I hope nobody has waited breakfast. Good morning, Mr. Bott. Oh, Alice!"
"What is the matter?" said Alice, going up to her.
"Oh, Alice, such a blow!" But Alice could see that her cousin was not quite in earnest;--that the new trouble, though it might be vexatious, was no great calamity. "Come here," said Lady Glencora; and they both went into an embrasure of the window. "Now I shall have to put your confidence in me to the test. This letter is from,--whom do you think?"
"How can I guess?"
"From Lady Midlothian! and she's coming here on Monday, on her road to London. Unless you tell me that you are quite sure this is as unexpected by me as by you, I will never speak to you again."
"I am quite sure of that."
"Ah! then we can consult. But first we'll go and have some breakfast." Then more ladies swarmed into the room,--the Duchess and her daughter, and the two Miss Pallisers, and others; and Mr. Bott had his hands full in attending,--or rather in offering to attend, to their little wants.
The morning was nearly gone before Alice and her cousin had any further opportunity of discussing in private the approach of Lady Midlothian; but Mr. Palliser had come in among them, and had been told of the good thing which was in store for him. "We shall be delighted to see Lady Midlothian," said Mr. Palliser.
"But there is somebody here who will not be at all delighted to see her," said Lady Glencora to her husband.
"Is there, indeed?" said he. "Who is that?"
"Her most undutiful cousin, Alice Vavasor. But, Alice, Mr. Palliser knows nothing about it, and it is too long to explain."
"I am extremely sorry--" began Mr. Palliser.
"I can assure you it does not signify in the least," said Alice. "It will only be taking me away three days earlier."
Upon hearing this Mr. Palliser looked very serious. What quarrel could Miss Vavasor have had with Lady Midlothian which should make it impossible for them to be visitors at the same house?
"It will do no such thing," said Lady Glencora. "Do you mean to say that you are coward enough to run away from her?"
"I'm afraid, Miss Vavasor, that we can hardly bid her not come," said Mr. Palliser. In answer to this, Alice protested that she would not for worlds have been the means of keeping Lady Midlothian away from Matching. "I should tell you, Mr. Palliser, that I have never seen Lady Midlothian, though she is my far-away cousin. Nor have I ever quarrelled with her. But she has given me advice by letter, and I did not answer her because I thought she had no business to interfere. I shall go away, not because I am afraid of her, but because, after what has passed, our meeting would be unpleasant to her."
"You could tell her that Miss Vavasor is here," said Mr. Palliser. "And then she need not come unless she pleased."
The matter was so managed at last that Alice found herself unable to leave Matching without making more of Lady Midlothian's coming than it was worth. It would undoubtedly be very disagreeable,--this unexpected meeting with her relative; but, as Lady Glencora said, Lady Midlothian would not eat her. In truth, she felt ashamed of herself in that she was afraid of her relative. No doubt she was afraid of her. So much she was forced to admit to herself. But she resolved at last that she would not let her drive her out of the house.
"Is Mr. Bott an admirer of your cousin?" Mrs. Sparkes said that evening to Lady Glencora.
"A very distant one I should think," said Lady Glencora.
"Goodness gracious!" exclaimed an old lady who had been rather awed by Alice's intimacy and cousinship with Lady Glencora; "it's the very last thing I should have dreamt of."
"But I didn't dream it, first or last," said Mrs. Sparkes.
"Why do you ask?" said Lady Glencora.
"Don't suppose that I am asking whether Miss Vavasor is an admirer of his," said Mrs. Sparkes. "I have no suspicion of that nature. I rather think that when he plays Bacchus she plays Ariadne, with full intention of flying from him in earnest."
"Is Mr. Bott inclined to play Bacchus?" asked Lady Glencora.
"I rather thought he was this morning. If you observe, he has something of a godlike and triumphant air about him."
"I don't think his godship will triumph there," said Lady Glencora.
"I really think she would be throwing herself very much away," said the old lady.
"Miss Vavasor is not at all disposed to do that," said Mrs. Sparkes. Then that conversation was allowed to drop.
On the following Monday, Lady Midlothian arrived. The carriage was sent to meet her at the station about three o'clock in the afternoon, and Alice had to choose whether she would undergo her first introduction immediately on her relative's arrival, or whether she would keep herself out of the way till she should meet her in the drawing-room before dinner.
"I shall receive her when she comes," said Lady Glencora, "and of course will tell her that you are here."
"Yes, that will be best; and--; dear me, I declare I don't know how to manage it."
"I'll bring her to you in my room if you like it."
"No; that would be too solemn," said Alice. "That would make her understand that I thought a great deal about her."
"Then we'll let things take their chance, and you shall come across her just as you would any other stranger." It was settled at last that this would be the better course, but that Lady Midlothian was to be informed of Alice's presence at the Priory as soon as she should arrive.
Alice was in her own room when the carriage in which sat the unwelcome old lady was driven up to the hall-door. She heard the wheels plainly, and knew well that her enemy was within the house. She had striven hard all the morning to make herself feel indifferent to this arrival, but had not succeeded; and was angry with herself at finding that she sat up-stairs with an anxious heart, because she knew that her cousin was in the room down-stairs. What was Lady Midlothian to her that she should be afraid of her? And yet she was very much afraid of Lady Midlothian. She questioned herself on the subject over and over again, and found herself bound to admit that such was the fact. At last, about five o'clock, having reasoned much with herself, and rebuked herself for her own timidity, she descended into the drawing-room,--Lady Glencora having promised that she would at that hour be there,--and on opening the door became immediately conscious that she was in the presence of her august relative. There sat Lady Midlothian in a great chair opposite the fire, and Lady Glencora sat near to her on a stool. One of the Miss Pallisers was reading in a further part of the room, and there was no one else present in the chamber.
The Countess of Midlothian was a very little woman, between sixty and seventy years of age, who must have been very pretty in her youth. At present she made no pretension either to youth or beauty,--as some ladies above sixty will still do,--but sat confessedly an old woman in all her external relations. She wore a round bonnet which came much over her face,--being accustomed to continue the use of her bonnet till dinner time when once she had been forced by circumstances to put it on. She wore a short cloak which fitted close to her person, and, though she occupied a great arm-chair, sat perfectly upright, looking at the fire. Very small she was, but she carried in her grey eyes and sharp-cut features a certain look of importance which saved her from being considered as small in importance. Alice, as soon as she saw her, knew that she was a lady over whom no easy victory could be obtained.
"Here is Alice," said Lady Glencora, rising as her cousin entered the room. "Alice, let me introduce you to Lady Midlothian."
Alice, as she came forward, was able to assume an easy demeanour, even though her heart within was failing her. She put out her hand, leaving it to the elder lady to speak the first words of greeting.
"I am glad at last to be able to make your acquaintance, my dear," said Lady Midlothian; "very glad." But still Alice did not speak. "Your aunt, Lady Macleod, is one of my oldest friends, and I have heard her speak of you very often."
"And Lady Macleod has often spoken to me of your ladyship," said Alice.
"Then we know each other's names," said the Countess; "and it will be well that we should be acquainted with each other's persons. I am becoming an old woman, and if I did not learn to know you now, or very shortly, I might never do so."
Alice could not help thinking that even under those circumstances neither might have had, so far as that was concerned, much cause of sorrow, but she did not say so. She was thinking altogether of Lady Midlothian's letter to her, and trying to calculate whether or no it would be well for her to rush away at once to the subject. That Lady Midlothian would mention the letter, Alice felt well assured; and when could it be better mentioned than now, in Glencora's presence,--when no other person was near them to listen to her? "You are very kind," said Alice.
"I would wish to be so," said Lady Midlothian. "Blood is thicker than water, my dear; and I know no earthly ties that can bind people together if those of family connection will not do so. Your mother, when she and I were young, was my dearest friend."
"I never knew my mother," said Alice,--feeling, however, as she spoke, that the strength of her resistance to the old woman was beginning to give way.
"No, my dear, you never did; and that is to my thinking another reason why they who loved her should love you. But Lady Macleod is your nearest relative,--on your mother's side, I mean,--and she has done her duty by you well."
"Indeed she has, Lady Midlothian."
"She has, and others, therefore, have been the less called upon to interfere. I only say this, my dear, in my own vindication,--feeling, perhaps, that my conduct needs some excuse."
"I'm sure Alice does not think that," said Lady Glencora.
"It is what I think rather than what Alice thinks that concerns my own shortcomings," said Lady Midlothian, with a smile which was intended to be pleasant. "But I have wished to make up for former lost opportunities." Alice knew that she was about to refer to her letter, and trembled. "I am very anxious now to be reckoned one of Alice Vavasor's friends, if she will allow me to become so."
"I can only be too proud,--if--"
"If what, my dear?" said the old lady. I believe that she meant to be gracious, but there was something in her manner, or, perhaps, rather in her voice, so repellant, that Alice felt that they could hardly become true friends. "If what, my dear?"
"Alice means--" began Lady Glencora.
"Let Alice say what she means herself," said Lady Midlothian.
"I hardly know how to say what I do mean," said Alice, whose spirit within her was rising higher as the occasion for using it came upon her. "I am assured that you and I, Lady Midlothian, differ very much as to a certain matter; and as it is one in which I must be guided by my own opinion, and not that of any other person, perhaps--"
"You mean about Mr. Grey?"
"Yes," said Alice; "I mean about Mr. Grey."
"I think so much about that matter, and your happiness as therein concerned, that when I heard that you were here I was determined to take Matching in my way to London, so that I might have an opportunity of speaking to you."
"Then you knew that Alice was here," said Lady Glencora.
"Of course I did. I suppose you have heard all the history, Glencora?"
Lady Glencora was forced to acknowledge that she had heard the history,--"the history" being poor Alice's treatment of Mr. Grey.
"And what do you think of it?" Both Alice and her hostess looked round to the further end of the room in which Miss Palliser was reading, intending thus to indicate that the lady knew as yet none of the circumstances, and that there could be no good reason why she should be instructed in them at this moment. "Perhaps another time and another place may be better," said Lady Midlothian; "but I must go the day after to-morrow,--indeed, I thought of going to-morrow."
"Oh, Lady Midlothian!" exclaimed Lady Glencora.
"You must regard this as merely a passing visit, made upon business. But, as I was saying, when shall I get an opportunity of speaking to Alice where we need not be interrupted?"
Lady Glencora suggested her room up-stairs, and offered the use of it then, or on that night when the world should be about to go to bed. But the idea of this premeditated lecture was terrible to Alice, and she determined that she would not endure it.
"Lady Midlothian, it would really be of no use."
"Of no use, my dear!"
"No, indeed. I did get your letter, you know."
"And as you have not answered it, I have come all this way to see you."
"I shall be so sorry if I give offence, but it is a subject which I cannot bring myself to discuss"--she was going to say with a stranger, but she was able to check herself before the offensive word was uttered,--"which I cannot bring myself to discuss with any one."
"But you don't mean to say that you won't see me?"
"I will not talk upon that matter," said Alice. "I will not do it even with Lady Macleod."
"No," said Lady Midlothian, and her sharp grey eyes now began to kindle with anger; "and therefore it is so very necessary that other friends should interfere."
"But I will endure no interference," said Alice, "either from persons who are friends or who are not friends." And as she spoke she rose from her chair. "You must forgive me, Lady Midlothian, if I say that I can have no conversation with you on this matter." Then she walked out of the room, leaving the Countess and Lady Glencora together. As she went Miss Palliser lifted her eyes from her book, and knew that there had been a quarrel, but I doubt if she had heard any of the words which had been spoken.
"The most self-willed young woman I ever met in my life," said Lady Midlothian, as soon as Alice was gone.
[Illustration: "The most self-willed young woman I ever met in my life."]
"I knew very well how it would be," said Lady Glencora.
"But it is quite frightful, my dear. She has been engaged, with the consent of all her friends, to this young man."
"I know all about it."
"But you must think she is very wrong."
"I don't quite understand her, but I suppose she fears they would not be happy together."
"Understand her! I should think not; nobody can understand her. A young woman to become engaged to a gentleman in that way,--before all the world, as one may say;--to go to his house, as I am told, and talk to the servants, and give orders about the furniture and then turn round and simply say that she has changed her mind! She hasn't given the slightest reason to my knowledge." And Lady Midlothian, as she insisted on the absolute iniquity of Alice's proceedings, almost startled Lady Glencora by the eagerness of her countenance. Lady Midlothian had been one of those who, even now not quite two years ago, had assisted in obtaining the submission of Lady Glencora herself. Lady Midlothian seemed on the present occasion to remember nothing of this, but Lady Glencora remembered it very exactly. "I shall not give it up," continued Lady Midlothian. "I have the greatest possible objection to her father, who contrived to connect himself with our family in a most shameful manner, without the slightest encouragement. I don't think I have spoken to him since, but I shall see him now and tell him my opinion."
Alice held her ground, and avoided all further conversation with Lady Midlothian. A message came to her through Lady Glencora imploring her to give way, but she was quite firm.
"Good-bye to you," Lady Midlothian said to her as she went. "Even yet I hope that things may go right, and if so you will find that I can forget and forgive."
"If perseverance merits success," said Lady Glencora to Alice, "she ought to succeed." "But she won't succeed," said Alice.

A week after this, Alice, when she came down to breakfast one morning, found herself alone with Mr. Bott. When she entered the room he was standing with his back to the fire, waiting till the appearance of some other guest should give him the sanction necessary to start his morning meal. Alice would have retreated if possible, for she had learned to dislike him greatly, and was, indeed, almost afraid of him; but she could not do so without making her flight conspicuous.
"Do you intend to prolong your stay here, Miss Vavasor?" said Mr. Bott, taking advantage of the first moment at which she looked up from a letter she was reading.
"For a few more days, I think," said Alice.
"Ah - I'm glad of that. Mr. Palliser has pressed me so much to remain till he goes to the Duke's, that I cannot get away sooner. As I am an unmarried man, I can employ my time as well in one place as in another."
"You must find that very convenient," said Alice.
"Yes. You see, with my position in Parliament I am obliged to act in concert with others. We must give and take, you know, Miss Vavasor."
As Miss Vavasor made no answer. Mr. Bott continued, "Of course I regard myself as belonging to the extreme Radicals."
"Oh, indeed!" said Alice.
"Yes. But nothing can be done if we don't give and take. I look upon our friend Mr. Palliser as the most rising public man in the country."
"I am happy to hear you say so," said his victim.
"And I do not think I can serve my party better than by keeping in the same boat with him. 'He'll make a Government hack of you,' a friend of mine said to me the other day. 'And I'll make a Manchester school Prime Minister of him,' I replied. I know what I'm about, Miss Vavasor."
"No doubt," said Alice.
"And so does he; Mr. Palliser is not the man to be led by the nose by anyone. What a charming woman is your relative, Lady Glencowrer! I remember what you said to me the other evening."
"Do you?" said Alice.
"And I quite agree with you that confidential discussion of dear friends should not be lightly made."
"Certainly not."
"But there are occasions, Miss Vavasor, when the ordinary laws of social conduct must be made somewhat elastic."
"I don't think this is one of them, Mr. Bott."
"Is it not? Just listen to me for one moment, Miss Vavasor. Our friend, Mr. Palliser, I am proud to say, relies much upon my humble friendship. But I need not tell you that Lady Glencowrer is very young; we may say, very young indeed."
"Mr. Bott, I will not talk to you about Lady Glencora Palliser."
This Alice said in a determined voice. She frowned too, and looked savagely at Mr. Bott. But he was a man of courage, and knew how to bear such opposition without flinching.
"Miss Vavasor, I speak solely with a view to her domestic happiness!"
"I don't think that she wishes to have any such guardian of her happiness."
"But if he wishes it, Miss Vavasor! Now I know he has the greatest reliance on your judgement."
Hereupon Alice got up with the intention of leaving the room, but she was met at the door by Mrs. Conway Sparkes.
"Are you running from your breakfast, Miss Vavasor?" said she.
"No, Mrs. Sparkes; I am running from Mr. Bott," said Alice, who was almost beside herself with anger.
"Mr. Bott, what is this?" said Mrs. Sparkes.
"Ha, ha, ha," laughed Mr. Bott.
"I hope I shall be able to keep the peace," said Mrs. Sparkes as Alice turned back into the room.
"Ha, ha, ha," again laughed Mr. Bott, who rather liked his position.
Alice was very angry with herself for saying only part of the truth to Mrs. Sparkes. She wanted to say something, and did not know what to say; but her confusion was stopped by the entrance of Lady Glencora.
"Mrs. Sparkes, good morning," said Lady Glencora. "Good morning, Mr. Bott. Oh, Alice!"
"What is the matter?" said Alice, going up to her.
"Oh, Alice, such a blow!" But Alice could see that her cousin was not quite in earnest;-that the new trouble was no calamity.
"Come here," said Lady Glencora; and they both went to the window. "This letter is from - whom do you think? Lady Midlothian! She's coming here on Monday. I assure you I did not expect this."
"I am quite sure of that."
"Ah! then we can consult. But first we'll have some breakfast." Then more ladies swarmed into the room; and Mr. Bott had his hands full in attending to their little wants.
The morning was nearly gone before Alice and her cousin had any chance of a private talk. Meanwhile Mr. Palliser was told of the visit.
"We shall be delighted to see Lady Midlothian," said Mr. Palliser.
"But Alice will not be at all delighted, for reasons too long to explain," said Lady Glencora.
"I am extremely sorry-" began Mr. Palliser.
"It does not signify in the least," said Alice. "It will only be taking me away three days earlier."
Upon hearing this Mr. Palliser looked very serious. What quarrel could make it impossible for Alice and Lady Midlothian to be visitors at the same house?
"Do you mean to say that you are coward enough to run away from her?" said Lady Glencora.
"I'm afraid, Miss Vavasor, that we can hardly ask her not to come," said Mr. Palliser.
Alice protested that she would not wish it. "I should tell you, Mr. Palliser, that I have never met Lady Midlothian, though she is my distant cousin. But she has given me advice by letter, and I did not answer her because I thought she had no business to interfere. I shall go away because our meeting would be unpleasant to her."
"You could tell her that Miss Vavasor is here," said Mr. Palliser to his wife. "And then she need not come unless she pleased."
The matter was so managed at last that Alice found herself unable to leave Matching without making more of Lady Midlothian's coming than it was worth. It would undoubtedly be very disagreeable; but, as Lady Glencora said, Lady Midlothian would not eat her. In truth, she felt ashamed to be so afraid of her relative.
On the following Monday, Lady Midlothian arrived. The carriage was sent to meet her at the station.
"I shall receive her when she comes," said Lady Glencora, "and of course will tell her that you are here."
"Yes, that will be best; but I don't know how to manage our first meeting."
"I'll bring her to you in my room if you like."
"No; we'll let things take their chance." However, it was decided that Lady Midlothian was to be informed of Alice's presence as soon as she arrived.
Alice was in her own room when she heard the carriage-wheels, and knew that her enemy had come. She had striven to feel indifferent, but had not succeeded; and was angry with herself for feeling anxious. Why should she be afraid of Lady Midlothian? And yet she was.
At about five o'clock, having rebuked herself for her timidity, she descended into the drawing-room. Lady Glencora had promised that she would be there at that hour. When Alice entered, Lady Midlothian sat in a great chair opposite the fire, with Lady Glencora near her on a stool. One of the Miss Pallisers was reading further away, and there was no one else in the room.
The Countess of Midlothian was a very little woman of between sixty and seventy, who must have been very pretty in her youth. She wore a round bonnet and a short cloak, and sat perfectly upright, looking at the fire. Very small she was, but she carried in her grey eyes and sharp-cut features a certain look of importance. Alice at once saw that she was a lady over whom no easy victory could be obtained.
"Here is Alice," said Lady Glencora, rising. "Alice, let me introduce you to Lady Midlothian."
Alice, as she came forward, was able to assume an easy demeanour, even though her heart was failing her. She put out her hand.
"I am glad at last to be able to make your acquaintance, my dear," said Lady Midlothian; "Your aunt, Lady Macleod, is one of my oldest friends, and I have heard her speak of you very often."
"And Lady Macleod has often spoken to me of your ladyship," said Alice.
"Then it is as well that we should be acquainted with each other," said the Countess. "I am becoming an old woman, and if I do not get to know you soon, I might never do so."
Alice could not help thinking that in that case neither might feel much sorrow; but she did not say so. She was wondering whether to speak of Lady Midlothian's letter to her. She was sure that Lady Midlothian would mention the letter; and it would be better now, in Glencora's presence.
"You are very kind," she said.
"Blood is thicker than water, my dear," said Lady Midlothian, "and no earthly ties are as strong as those of family. Your mother was my dearest friend."
"I never knew my mother," said Alice - feeling, however, that her resistance to the old woman was beginning to give way.
"No, my dear, you never did; but Lady Macleod is your nearest relative on your mother's side, and she has done her duty by you well."
"Indeed she has, Lady Midlothian."
"She has, and others, therefore, have been less called upon to interfere. I only say this, my dear, in my own vindication - feeling, perhaps, that my conduct needs some excuse."
"I'm sure Alice does not think that," said Lady Glencora.
"But I have wished to make up for lost opportunities," said Lady Midlothian. Alice knew that she was about to refer to her letter, and trembled. "I am very anxious now to be Alice Vavasor's friend, if she will allow me to become so."
"I would be glad - if-"
"If what, my dear?" said the old lady. Although she meant to be gracious, there was something repellent in her manner.
"I hardly know how to say what I mean," said Alice, her spirit rising higher. "I am sure that you and I, Lady Midlothian, differ very much about a certain matter, in which I must be guided by my own opinion-"
"You mean about Mr. Grey?"
"Yes."
"I think so much about that matter, and your happiness, that when I heard that you were here I was determined to visit Matching so that I might have an opportunity of speaking to you."
"Then you knew that Alice was here?" said Lady Glencora.
"Of course I did. I suppose you have heard all the history, Glencora?"
Lady Glencora was forced to acknowledge that she had heard the "history" of poor Alice's treatment of Mr. Grey.
"And what do you think of it?"
Both Alice and Lady Glencora looked towards the end of the room where Miss Palliser was reading, to indicate that the lady knew nothing of it.
"Perhaps another time and place may be better," said Lady Midlothian; "but I must go the day after tomorrow; indeed, I thought of going tomorrow. This is merely a brief visit. When shall I get an opportunity of speaking to Alice where we need not be interrupted?"
Lady Glencora suggested her room upstairs, and offered the use of it then, or in the evening. But the idea of being lectured was terrible to Alice, and she was determined not to endure it.
"Lady Midlothian, it would really be of no use. I did get your letter, you know."
"And as you have not answered it, I have come all this way to see you."
"I shall be so sorry to give offence, but it is a subject which I cannot bring myself to discuss."
"But you don't mean to say that you won't see me?"
"I will not talk upon that matter," said Alice. "I will not do it even with Lady Macleod."
"No," said Lady Midlothian, and her sharp grey eyes now began to kindle with anger; "and therefore it is so very necessary that other friends should interfere."
"But I will endure no interference," said Alice, "either from persons who are friends or who are not friends." And as she spoke she rose from her chair. "You must forgive me, Lady Midlothian, if I say that I can have no conversation with you on this matter." Then she walked out of the room, leaving the Countess and Lady Glencora together.
"The most self-willed young woman I ever met in my life," said Lady Midlothian, as soon as Alice was gone.
"I knew very well how it would be," said Lady Glencora.
"But it is quite frightful, my dear. She has been engaged, with the consent of all her friends, to this young man."
"I know all about it. I don't quite understand her, but I suppose she fears they would not be happy together."
"Understand her! I should think nobody can understand her. A young woman to become engaged to a gentleman in that way, and then turn round and simply say that she has changed her mind! She hasn't given the slightest reason." Lady Midlothian almost startled Lady Glencora by her eagerness. Lady Midlothian had been one of those who, not quite two years before, had assisted in obtaining the submission of Lady Glencora herself.
"I shall not give up," she continued. "I have the greatest objection to her father, who contrived to connect himself with our family in a most shameful manner, without the slightest encouragement. I don't think I have spoken to him since, but I shall see him now and tell him my opinion."
Alice held her ground, and avoided all further conversation with Lady Midlothian during her stay.
"Good-bye to you," Lady Midlothian said to her as she went. "Even yet I hope that things may go right, and if so you will find that I can forget and forgive."
"If perseverance merits success," said Lady Glencora to Alice, "she ought to succeed."
"But she won't succeed," said Alice.


At the end of ten days Alice found herself quite comfortable at Matching Priory. She had now promised to remain there till the second week of December, at which time she was to go to Vavasor Hall,--there to meet her father and Kate. The Pallisers were to pass their Christmas with the Duke of Omnium in Barsetshire. "We always are to do that," said Glencora. "It is the state occasion at Gatherum Castle, but it only lasts for one week. Then we go somewhere else. Oh dear!"
"Why do you say 'oh dear'?"
"Because--; I don't think I mean to tell you."
"Then I'm sure I won't ask."
"That's so like you, Alice. But I can be as firm as you, and I'm sure I won't tell you unless you do ask." But Alice did not ask, and it was not long before Lady Glencora's firmness gave way.
But, as I have said, Alice had become quite comfortable at Matching Priory. Perhaps she was already growing upwards towards the light. At any rate she could listen with pleasure to the few words the Duke would say to her. She could even chat a little to the Duchess,--so that her Grace had observed to Lady Glencora that "her cousin was a very nice person,--a very nice person indeed. What a pity it was that she had been so ill-treated by that gentleman in Oxfordshire!" Lady Glencora had to explain that the gentleman lived in Cambridgeshire, and that he, at any rate, had not treated anybody ill. "Do you mean that she--jilted him?" said the Duchess, almost whistling, and opening her eyes very wide. "Dear me, I'm sorry for that. I shouldn't have thought it." And when she next spoke to Alice she assumed rather a severe tone of emphasis;--but this was soon abandoned when Alice listened to her with complacency.
Alice also had learned to ride,--or rather had resumed her riding, which for years had been abandoned. Jeffrey Palliser had been her squire, and she had become intimate with him so as to learn to quarrel with him and to like him,--to such an extent that Lady Glencora had laughingly told her that she was going to do more.
"I rather think not," said Alice.
"But what has thinking to do with it? Who ever thinks about it?"
"I don't just at present,--at any rate."
"Upon my word it would be very nice;--and then perhaps some day you'd be the Duchess."
"Glencora, don't talk such nonsense."
"Those are the speculations which people make. Only I should spite you by killing myself, so that he might marry again."
"How can you say such horrid things?"
"I think I shall,--some day. What right have I to stand in his way? He spoke to me the other day about Jeffrey's altered position, and I knew what he meant;--or rather what he didn't mean to say, but what he thought. But I shan't kill myself."
"I should think not."
"I only know one other way," said Lady Glencora.
"You are thinking of things which should never be in your thoughts," said Alice vehemently. "Have you no trust in God's providence? Cannot you accept what has been done for you?"
Mr. Bott had gone away, much to Lady Glencora's delight, but had unfortunately come back again. On his return Alice heard more of the feud between the Duchess and Mrs. Conway Sparkes. "I did not tell you," said Lady Glencora to her friend;--"I did not tell you before he went that I was right about his tale-bearing."
"And did he bear tales?"
"Yes; I did get the scolding, and I know very well that it came through him, though Mr. Palliser did not say so. But he told me that the Duchess had felt herself hurt by that other woman's way of talking."
"But it was not your fault."
"No; that's what I said. It was he who desired me to ask Mrs. Conway Sparkes to come here. I didn't want her. She goes everywhere, and it is thought a catch to get her; but if she had been drowned in the Red Sea I shouldn't have minded. When I told him that, he said it was nonsense,--which of course it was; and then he said I ought to make her hold her tongue. Of course I said I couldn't. Mrs. Conway Sparkes wouldn't care for me. If she quizzed me, myself, I told him that I could take care of myself, though she were ten times Mrs. Conway Sparkes, and had written finer poetry than Tennyson."
"It is fine;--some of it," said Alice.
"Oh, I dare say! I know a great deal of it by heart, only I wouldn't give her the pleasure of supposing that I had ever thought so much about her poetry. And then I told him that I couldn't take care of the Duchess,--and he told me that I was a child."
"He only meant that in love."
"I am a child; I know that. Why didn't he marry some strong-minded, ferocious woman that could keep his house in order, and frown Mrs. Sparkes out of her impudence? It wasn't my fault."
"You didn't tell him that."
"But I did. Then he kissed me, and said it was all right, and told me that I should grow older. 'And Mrs. Sparkes will grow more impudent,' I said, 'and the Duchess more silly.' And after that I went away. Now this horrid Mr. Bott has come back again, and only that it would be mean in me to condescend so far, I would punish him. He grins and smiles at me, and rubs his big hands more than ever, because he feels that he has behaved badly. Is it not horrid to have to live in the house with such people?"
"I don't think you need mind him much."
"Yes; but I am the mistress here, and am told that I am to entertain the people. Fancy entertaining the Duchess of St. Bungay and Mr. Bott!"
Alice had now become so intimate with Lady Glencora that she did not scruple to read her wise lectures,--telling her that she allowed herself to think too much of little things,--and too much also of some big things. "As regards Mr. Bott," said Alice, "I think you should bear it as though there were no such person."
"But that would be pretence,--especially to you."
"No; it would not be pretence; it would be the reticence which all women should practise,--and you, in your position, more almost than any other woman." Then Lady Glencora pouted, told Alice that it was a pity she had not married Mr. Palliser, and left her.
That evening,--the evening of Mr. Bott's return to Matching, that gentleman found a place near to Alice in the drawing-room. He had often come up to her, rubbing his hands together, and saying little words, as though there was some reason from their positions that they two should be friends. Alice had perceived this, and had endeavoured with all her force to shake him off; but he was a man, who if he understood a hint, never took it. A cold shoulder was nothing to him, if he wanted to gain the person who showed it him. His code of perseverance taught him that it was a virtue to overcome cold shoulders. The man or woman who received his first overtures with grace would probably be one on whom it would be better that he should look down and waste no further time; whereas he or she who could afford to treat him with disdain would no doubt be worth gaining. Such men as Mr. Bott are ever gracious to cold shoulders. The colder the shoulders, the more gracious are the Mr. Botts.
"What a delightful person is our dear friend, Lady Glencora!" said Mr. Bott, having caught Alice in a position from which she could not readily escape.
Alice had half a mind to differ, or to make any remark that might rid her from Mr. Bott. But she did not dare to say a word that might seem to have been said playfully. "Yes, indeed," she replied. "How very cold it is to-night!" She was angry with herself for her own stupidity as soon as the phrase was out of her mouth, and then she almost laughed as she thought of the Duchess and the hot-water pipes at Longroyston.
"Yes, it is cold. You and her ladyship are great friends, I believe, Miss Vavasor."
"She is my cousin," said Alice.
"Ah! yes; that is so pleasant. I have reason to know that Mr. Palliser is very much gratified that you should be so much with her."
This was unbearable. Alice could not quite assume sufficient courage to get up from her chair and walk away from him, and yet she felt that she must escape further conversation. "I don't know that I am very much with her, and if I were I can't think it would make any difference to Mr. Palliser."
But Mr. Bott was not a man to be put down when he had a purpose in hand. "I can assure you that those are his sentiments. Of course we all know that dear Lady Glencora is young. She is very young."
"Mr. Bott, I really would rather not talk about my cousin."
"But, dear Miss Vavasor;--when we both have her welfare in view--?"
"I haven't her welfare in view, Mr. Bott; not in the least. There is no reason why I should. You must excuse me if I say I cannot talk about her welfare with a perfect stranger." Then she did get up, and went away from the Member of Parliament, leaving him rather astonished at her audacity. But he was a constant man, and his inner resolve was simply to the effect that he would try it again.
I wonder whether Jeffrey Palliser did think much of the difference between his present position and that which would have been his had Lady Glencora been the happy possessor of a cradle up-stairs with a boy in it. I suppose he must have done so. It is hardly possible that any man should not be alive to the importance of such a chance. His own present position was one of the most unfortunate which can fall to the lot of a man. His father, the Duke's youngest brother, had left him about six hundred a year, and had left him also a taste for living with people of six thousand. The propriety of earning his bread had never been put before him. His father had been in Parliament, and had been the most favoured son of the old Duke, who for some years before his death had never spoken to him who now reigned over the house of the Pallisers. Jeffrey's father had been brought up at Matching Priory as scions of ducal houses are brought up, and on the old man's death had been possessed of means sufficient to go on in the same path, though with difficulty. His brother had done something for him, and at various times he had held some place near the throne. But on his death, when the property left behind him was divided between his son and three daughters, Jeffrey Palliser became possessed of the income above stated. Of course he could live on it,--and as during the winter months of the year a home was found for him free of cost, he could keep hunters, and live as rich men live. But he was a poor, embarrassed man, without prospects,--until this fine ducal prospect became opened to him by the want of that cradle at Matching Priory.
But the prospect was no doubt very distant. Lady Glencora might yet have as many sons as Hecuba. Or she might die, and some other more fortunate lady might become the mother of his cousin's heir. Or the Duke might marry and have a son. And, moreover, his cousin was only one year older than himself, and the great prize, if it came his way, might not come for forty years as yet. Nevertheless his hand might now be acceptable in quarters where it would certainly be rejected had Lady Glencora possessed that cradle up-stairs. We cannot but suppose that he must have made some calculations of this nature.
"It is a pity you should do nothing all your life," his cousin Plantagenet said to him one morning just at this time. Jeffrey had sought the interview in his cousin's room, and I fear had done so with some slight request for ready money.
"What am I to do?" said Jeffrey.
"At any rate you might marry."
"Oh, yes;--I could marry. There's no man so poor but what he can do that. The question would be how I might like the subsequent starvation."
"I don't see that you need starve. Though your own fortune is small, it is something,--and many girls have fortunes of their own."
Jeffrey thought of Lady Glencora, but he made no allusion to her in speech. "I don't think I'm very good at that kind of thing," he said. "When the father and mother came to ask of my house and my home I should break down. I don't say it as praising myself;--indeed, quite the reverse; but I fear I have not a mercenary tendency."
"That's nonsense."
"Oh, yes; quite so. I admit that."
"Men must have mercenary tendencies or they would not have bread. The man who ploughs that he may live does so because he, luckily, has a mercenary tendency."
"Just so. But you see I am less lucky than the ploughman."
"There is no vulgar error so vulgar,--that is to say, common or erroneous, as that by which men have been taught to say that mercenary tendencies are bad. A desire for wealth is the source of all progress. Civilization comes from what men call greed. Let your mercenary tendencies be combined with honesty and they cannot take you astray." This the future Chancellor of the Exchequer said with much of that air and tone of wisdom which a Chancellor of the Exchequer ought to possess.
"But I haven't got any such tendencies," said Jeffrey.
"Would you like to occupy a farm in Scotland?" said Plantagenet Palliser.
"And pay rent?"
"You would have to pay rent of course."
"Thank you, no. It would be dishonest, as I know I should never pay it."
"You are too old, I fear, for the public service."
"You mean a desk in the Treasury,--with a hundred a year. Yes; I think I am too old."
"But have you no plan of your own?"
"Not much of one. Sometimes I have thought I would go to New Zealand."
"You would have to be a farmer there."
"No;--I shouldn't do that. I should get up an opposition to the Government and that sort of thing, and then they would buy me off and give me a place."
"That does very well here, Jeffrey, if a man can get into Parliament and has capital enough to wait; but I don't think it would do out there. Would you like to go into Parliament?"
"What; here? Of course I should. Only I should be sure to get terribly into debt. I don't owe very much, now,--not to speak of,--except what I owe you."
"You owe nothing to me," said Plantagenet, with some little touch of magniloquence in his tone. "No; don't speak of it. I have no brother, and between you and me it means nothing. You see, Jeffrey, it may be that I shall have to look to you as my--my--my heir, in short." Hereupon Jeffrey muttered something as to the small probability of such necessity, and as to the great remoteness of any result even if it were so.
"That's all true," said the elder heir of the Pallisers, "but still--. In short, I wish you would do something. Do you think about it; and then some day speak to me again."
Jeffrey, as he left his cousin with a cheque for 500 in his waist-coat pocket, thought that the interview which had at one time taken important dimensions, had not been concluded altogether satisfactorily. A seat in Parliament! Yes, indeed! If his cousin would so far use his political, monetary, or ducal interest as to do that for him;--as to give him something of the status properly belonging to the younger son of the House, then indeed life would have some charms for him! But as for the farm in Scotland, or a desk at an office in London,--his own New Zealand plan would be better than those. And then as he went along of course he bethought himself that it might be his lot yet to die, and at least to be buried, in the purple, as a Duke of Omnium. If so, certainly it would be his duty to prepare another heir, and leave a duke behind him,--if it were possible.
"Are you going to ride with us after lunch?" said Lady Glencora to him as he strolled into the drawing-room.
"No," said Jeffrey; "I'm going to study."
"To do what?" said Lady Glencora.
"To study;--or rather I shall spend to-day in sitting down and considering what I will study. My cousin has just been telling me that I ought to do something."
"So you ought," said Iphigenia energetically from her writing-desk.
"But he didn't seem to have any clear opinion what it ought to be. You see there can't be two Chancellors of the Exchequer at the same time. Mrs. Sparkes, what ought a young man like me to set about doing?"
"Go into Parliament, I should say," said Mrs. Sparkes.
"Ah, yes; exactly. He had some notion of that kind, too, but he didn't name any particular place. I think I'll try the City of London. They've four there, and of course the chance of getting in would thereby be doubled."
"I thought that commercial men were generally preferred in the City," said the Duchess, taking a strong and good-natured interest in the matter.
"Mr. Palliser means to make a fortune in trade as a preliminary," said Mrs. Sparkes.
"I don't think he meant anything of the kind," said the Duchess.
"At any rate I have got to do something, so I can't go and ride," said Jeffrey.
"And you ought to do something," said Iphigenia from her desk.
Twice during this little conversation Lady Glencora had looked up, catching Alice's eye, and Alice had well known what she had meant. "You see," the glance had said, "Plantagenet is beginning to take an interest in his cousin, and you know why. The man who is to be the father of the future dukes must not be allowed to fritter away his time in obscurity. Had I that cradle up-stairs Jeffrey might be as idle as he pleased." Alice understood it well.
Of course Jeffrey did join the riding party. "What is a man like me to do who wants to do something?" he said to Alice. Alice was quite aware that Lady Glencora had contrived some little scheme that Mr. Palliser should be riding next to her. She liked Mr. Palliser, and therefore had no objection; but she declared to herself that her cousin was a goose for her pains.
"Mrs. Sparkes says you ought to go into Parliament."
"Yes;--and the dear Duchess would perhaps suggest a house in Belgrave Square. I want to hear your advice now."
"I can only say ditto to Miss Palliser."
"What! Iphy? About procrastination? But you see the more of my time he steals the better it is for me."
"That's the evil you have got to cure."
"My cousin Plantagenet suggested--marriage."
"A very good thing too, I'm sure," said Alice; "only it depends something on the sort of wife you get."
"You mean, of course, how much money she has."
"Not altogether."
"Looking at it from my cousin's point of view, I suppose that it is the only important point. Who are there coming up this year,--in the way of heiresses?"
"Upon my word I don't know. In the first place, how much money makes an heiress?"
"For such a fellow as me, I suppose ten thousand pounds ought to do."
"That's not much," said Alice, who had exactly that amount of her own.
"No--; perhaps that's too moderate. But the lower one went in the money speculation, the greater would be the number to choose from, and the better the chance of getting something decent in the woman herself. I have something of my own,--not much you know; so with the lady's ten thousand pounds we might be able to live,--in some second-rate French town perhaps."
"But I don't see what you would gain by that."
"My people here would have got rid of me. That seems to be the great thing. If you hear of any girl with about that sum, moderately good-looking, not too young so that she might know something of the world, decently born, and able to read and write, perhaps you will bear me in mind."
"Yes, I will," said Alice, who was quite aware that he had made an accurate picture of her own position. "When I meet such a one, I will send for you at once."
"You know no such person now?"
"Well, no; not just at present."
"I declare I don't think he could do anything better," her cousin said to her that night. Lady Glencora was now in the habit of having Alice with her in what she called her dressing-room every evening, and then they would sit till the small hours came upon them. Mr. Palliser always burnt the midnight oil and came to bed with the owls. They would often talk of him and his prospects till Alice had perhaps inspired his wife with more of interest in him and them than she had before felt. And Alice had managed generally to drive her friend away from those topics which were so dangerous,--those allusions to her childlessness, and those hints that Burgo Fitzgerald was still in her thoughts. And sometimes, of course, they had spoken of Alice's own prospects, till she got into a way of telling her cousin freely all that she felt. On such occasions Lady Glencora would always tell her that she had been right,--if she did not love the man. "Though your finger were put out for the ring," said Lady Glencora on one such occasion, "you should go back, if you did not love him."
"But I did love him," said Alice.
"Then I don't understand it," said Lady Glencora; and, in truth, close as was their intimacy, they did not perfectly understand each other.
But on this occasion they were speaking of Jeffrey Palliser. "I declare I don't think he could do any better," said Lady Glencora.
"If you talk such nonsense, I will not stay," said Alice.
"But why should it be nonsense? You would be very comfortable with your joint incomes. He is one of the best fellows in the world. It is clear that he likes you; and then we should be so near to each other. I am sure Mr. Palliser would do something for him if he married,--and especially if I asked him."
"I only know of two things against it."
"And what are they?"
"That he would not take me for his wife, and that I would not take him for my husband."
"Why not? What do you dislike in him?"
"I don't dislike him at all. I like him very much indeed. But one can't marry all the people one likes."
"But what reason is there why you shouldn't marry him?"
"This chiefly," said Alice, after a pause; "that I have just separated myself from a man whom I certainly did love truly, and that I cannot transfer my affections quite so quickly as that."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she knew that they should not have been spoken. It was exactly what Glencora had done. She had loved a man and had separated herself from him and had married another all within a month or two. Lady Glencora first became red as fire over her whole face and shoulders, and Alice afterwards did the same as she looked up, as though searching in her cousin's eyes for pardon.
"It is an unmaidenly thing to do, certainly," said Lady Glencora very slowly, and in her lowest voice. "Nay, it is unwomanly; but one may be driven. One may be so driven that all gentleness of womanhood is driven out of one."
"Oh, Glencora!"
"I did not propose that you should do it as a sudden thing."
"Glencora!"
"I did do it suddenly. I know it. I did it like a beast that is driven as its owner chooses. I know it. I was a beast. Oh, Alice, if you know how I hate myself!"
"But I love you with all my heart," said Alice. "Glencora, I have learned to love you so dearly!"
"Then you are the only being that does. He can't love me. How is it possible? You,--and perhaps another."
"There are many who love you. He loves you. Mr. Palliser loves you."
"It is impossible. I have never said a word to him that could make him love me. I have never done a thing for him that can make him love me. The mother of his child he might have loved, because of that. Why should he love me? We were told to marry each other and did it. When could he have learned to love me? But, Alice, he requires no loving, either to take it or to give it. I wish it were so with me."
Alice said what she could to comfort her, but her words were but of little avail as regarded those marriage sorrows.
"Forgive you!" at last Glencora said. "What have I to forgive? You don't suppose I do not know it all, and think of it all without the chance of some stray word like that! Forgive you! I am so grateful that you love me! Some one's love I must have found,--or I could not have remained here."

After ten days Alice felt quite comfortable at Matching Priory. She had promised to remain there till the second week of December, when she was to go to Vavasor Hall to meet her father and Kate. The Pallisers were to pass their Christmas with the Duke of Omnium in Barsetshire.
"It is the state occasion at Gatherum Castle," said Glencora, "but it only lasts for one week. Then we go somewhere else. Oh dear!"
"Why 'oh dear'?"
"Because - I don't think I mean to tell you."
"Then I won't ask."
"That's so like you, Alice. But I won't tell you unless you do ask." Alice did not ask; but it was not long before Lady Glencora gave way.
Perhaps Alice was already growing upwards towards the light. At any rate she could listen with pleasure to the few words the Duke would say to her. She could even chat a little to the Duchess - so that her Grace had observed to Lady Glencora that "her cousin was a very nice person indeed. What a pity that she had been so ill-treated by that gentleman in Oxfordshire!"
Lady Glencora had to explain that the gentleman lived in Cambridgeshire, and that he had not treated anybody ill.
"Do you mean that she jilted him?" said the Duchess, almost whistling, and opening her eyes very wide. "Dear me, I'm sorry for that. I shouldn't have thought it." And when she next spoke to Alice she assumed rather a severe tone - until Alice listened to her pleasantly.
Alice had also begun riding, with Jeffrey Palliser as her squire. She had become friendly enough with him to quarrel, and to like him - so much, that Lady Glencora laughingly told her that she was going to do more.
"I rather think not," said Alice.
"It would be very nice; and then perhaps some day you'd be the Duchess."
"Glencora, don't talk such nonsense."
"Those are the speculations which people make. Only I should spite you by killing myself, so that he might marry again."
"How can you say such horrid things?"
"I think I shall, some day. What right have I to stand in his way? He spoke to me the other day about Jeffrey's altered position, and I knew what he meant; or rather what he thought. But I shan't kill myself."
"I should think not."
"I only know one other way," said Lady Glencora.
"You are thinking of things which should never be in your thoughts," said Alice vehemently. "Have you no trust in God's providence? Cannot you accept what has been done for you?"
Mr. Bott had gone away, much to Lady Glencora's delight, but had unfortunately come back again. On his return Alice heard more of the feud between the Duchess and Mrs. Conway Sparkes.
"I was right about his tale-telling," said Lady Glencora to her friend.
"Did he tell tales?"
"Yes; I got a scolding, and I know it came through him, though Mr. Palliser did not say so. But he told me that the Duchess had felt herself hurt by that other woman's way of talking."
"But it was not your fault."
"No; that's what I said. It was he who wanted me to ask Mrs. Conway Sparkes here. I didn't want her, although she goes everywhere. When I told him that, he said it was nonsense, and I ought to make her hold her tongue. Of course I said I couldn't. Mrs. Conway Sparkes wouldn't care about me. And then I told him that I couldn't take care of the Duchess - and he told me that I was a child."
"He only meant that in love."
"I am a child; I know that. Why didn't he marry some strong-minded, ferocious woman that could keep his house in order, and frown Mrs. Sparkes out of her impudence? It wasn't my fault."
"You didn't tell him that."
"But I did. Then he kissed me, and said it was all right, and that I should grow older. 'And Mrs. Sparkes will grow more impudent,' I said, 'and the Duchess more silly.' And then I went away. Now this horrid Mr. Bott has come back again, and I wish I could punish him. He grins and smiles at me, and rubs his big hands. Is it not horrid to have to live in the house with such people?"
"I don't think you need mind him much."
"Yes; but I am the mistress here, and am told to entertain the people. Fancy entertaining the Duchess of St. Bungay and Mr. Bott!"
"As regards Mr. Bott," said Alice, "I think you should bear it as though there were no such person."
"But that would be pretence."
"No; it would be the reticence which all women should practise - and you, in your position, almost more than any other woman." Then Lady Glencora pouted, told Alice that it was a pity she had not married Mr. Palliser, and left her.
That evening, Mr. Bott found a place near to Alice in the drawing-room. He had often come up to her, rubbing his hands together, and speaking as though there was some reason that they should be friends. Alice had perceived this, and had tried to shake him off; but if he understood a hint, he never took it. A cold shoulder was nothing to him. It simply made him persevere.
"What a delightful person is our dear friend, Lady Glencora!" said Mr. Bott, having caught Alice in a position from which she could not easily escape.
Alice had half a mind to argue to get rid of him. But she did not dare.
"Yes, indeed," she replied. "How very cold it is tonight!"
"Yes, it is cold. You and her ladyship are great friends, I believe, Miss Vavasor."
"She is my cousin," said Alice.
"Ah! yes; that is so pleasant. I have reason to know that Mr. Palliser is very much gratified that you should be so much with her."
This was unbearable. Alice could not quite assume enough courage to get up from her chair and walk away from him, and yet she felt that she must escape further conversation. "I don't know that I am very much with her, and if I were I can't think it would make any difference to Mr. Palliser."
But Mr. Bott was not a man to be put down when he had a purpose in hand. "I can assure you that those are his sentiments. Of course we all know that dear Lady Glencora is very young."
"Mr. Bott, I really would rather not talk about my cousin."
"But, dear Miss Vavasor; when we both have her welfare in view?"
"I haven't her welfare in view, Mr. Bott. There is no reason why I should. You must excuse me if I say I cannot talk about her welfare with a perfect stranger." Then she did get up, and walked away, leaving him rather astonished. But it simply made him resolve that he would try again.
I wonder whether Jeffrey Palliser did think much of the change in his position if Lady Glencora had a son. He must have been aware of its importance to him.
His present position was unfortunate. His father, the Duke's youngest brother, had left him about six hundred a year, and with expensive tastes. The propriety of earning his bread had never been put before him. Of course he could live on six hundred a year; but he was a poor man, without prospects - until this fine ducal prospect became opened to him by the lack of an occupied cradle at Matching Priory.
But the prospect was very distant. Lady Glencora might yet have many sons. Or she might die, and some other more fortunate lady might bear sons in her place. Or the Duke might yet marry and have a son. Moreover, Jeffrey's cousin was only one year older than himself, and the great prize might not come for forty years.
Nevertheless his hand might now be acceptable, where it would certainly be rejected if Lady Glencora had filled that cradle. He must have made some calculations of this nature.
"It is a pity you should do nothing all your life," his cousin Plantagenet said to him one morning at this time. Jeffrey had sought the interview, I fear with a request for ready money.
"What am I to do?" said Jeffrey.
"At any rate you might marry."
"Oh, yes; I could marry. The question would be how I might like the subsequent starvation."
"I don't see that you need starve. Though your own fortune is small, it is something, and many girls have fortunes of their own."
"I don't think I'm very good at that kind of thing," said Jeffrey. "I fear I have not a mercenary tendency."
"That's nonsense. Men must have mercenary tendencies or they would not eat. It is a common error to say that mercenary tendencies are bad. A desire for wealth is the source of all progress. Let your mercenary tendencies be combined with honesty and they cannot take you astray." This the future Chancellor of the Exchequer said with an appropriate air of wisdom.
"But I haven't got any such tendencies," said Jeffrey.
"You are too old, I fear, for the civil service."
"You mean a desk in the Treasury, with a hundred a year. Yes; I think I am too old."
"But have you no plan of your own?"
"Not much of one. Sometimes I have thought I would go to New Zealand."
"Would you like to go into Parliament?"
"Of course I should. Only I should be sure to get terribly into debt. I don't owe very much, now - except what I owe you."
"You owe nothing to me," said Plantagenet. "No; don't speak of it. I have no brother, and between you and me it means nothing. You see, Jeffrey, it may be that I shall have to look to you as my - my heir, in short." Jeffrey muttered something as to the small probability of such necessity.
"That's true," said the elder Palliser, "but still... In short, I wish you would do something. Think about it, and we will speak again."
Jeffrey left with a cheque for 500 in his pocket, but not altogether satisfied. A seat in Parliament! Yes, indeed! If his cousin would do that for him - give him something of the status properly belonging to the younger son of the House, then indeed life would have some charms for him! Then he began to think that if he were destined to inherit, it might be his duty to prepare another heir, and leave a duke behind him.
"Are you going to ride with us after lunch?" said Lady Glencora to him.
"No," said Jeffrey; "I'm going to study. Or rather, I shall sit down and consider what I should study. My cousin has just been telling me that I ought to do something."
"So you ought," said Iphigenia energetically from her writing-desk.
"But he didn't have any clear idea what. Mrs. Sparkes, what ought a young man like me to set about doing?"
"Go into Parliament, I should say," said Mrs. Sparkes.
"Ah, yes; exactly. He had some notion of that kind, too. At any rate I have got to do something, so I can't go and ride," said Jeffrey.
During this little conversation Lady Glencora had caught Alice's eye, and Alice had known what she had meant. "You see," the glance had said, "Plantagenet is beginning to take an interest in his cousin, and you know why. The man who is to be a duke must not be allowed to fritter away his time in obscurity. If I had a baby, Jeffrey might be as idle as he pleased." Alice understood it well.
Of course Jeffrey did join the riding party.
"What is a man like me to do?" he said to Alice. Lady Glencora had contrived that he should be riding next to her. She liked Mr. Palliser, and had no objection; but she thought her cousin was a goose.
"Mrs. Sparkes says you ought to go into Parliament."
"My cousin Plantagenet suggested - marriage."
"A very good thing too, I'm sure," said Alice; "only it depends on the sort of wife you get."
"You mean how much money she has."
"Not altogether."
"From my cousin's point of view, that it is the only important point. Who is coming up this year, in the way of heiresses?"
"I don't know. How much money makes an heiress?"
"For such a fellow as me, I suppose ten thousand pounds ought to do."
"That's not much," said Alice, who had exactly that amount of her own.
"No. But the more moderate my demands, the greater would be the number to choose from, and the better the chance of getting something decent in the woman herself. I have something of my own, so with the lady's ten thousand pounds we might be able to live - in some second-rate French town perhaps. If you hear of any girl with about that sum, moderately good-looking, not too young and ignorant, decently born, and able to read and write, perhaps you will bear me in mind."
"Yes, I will," said Alice, well aware that he had described her own position. "When I meet such a one, I will send for you at once."
"You know no such person now?"
"Not just at present."
"I don't think he could do any better," her cousin said to her that night. Lady Glencora was now in the habit of having Alice with her in her dressing-room every evening, when they would sit till the small hours. They would often talk of Mr. Palliser and his prospects, and Alice inspired his wife with more interest in him than she had felt before. And Alice managed generally to drive her friend away from the dangerous topics of her childlessness, and Burgo Fitzgerald.
Sometimes, of course, they spoke of Alice's own prospects, till she was telling her cousin freely all that she felt. On this occasion they were speaking of Jeffrey Palliser.
"I don't think he could do any better," said Lady Glencora.
"If you talk such nonsense, I will not stay," said Alice.
"But why should it be nonsense? You would be very comfortable with your joint incomes. He is one of the best fellows in the world. It is clear that he likes you; and then we should be near each other. I am sure Mr. Palliser would do something for him if he married."
"I only know two things against it."
"And what are they?"
"That he would not take me for his wife, and that I would not take him for my husband."
"Do you dislike him?"
"Not at all. I like him very much. But one can't marry all the people one likes."
"But why shouldn't you marry him?"
"Because," said Alice, after a pause, "I have just separated myself from a man whom I certainly did love truly, and I cannot transfer my affections quite so quickly as that."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she knew that they should not have been spoken. It was exactly what Glencora had done. She had loved a man and had separated from him and had married another all within a month or two.
Lady Glencora blushed as red as fire. Alice did the same as she looked up, searching in her cousin's eyes for pardon.
"It is an unmaidenly thing to do, certainly," said Lady Glencora in her lowest voice.
"Oh, Glencora!"
"I did not propose that you should do it suddenly. I did it suddenly, I know. I did it like a beast that is driven as its owner chooses. Oh, Alice, if you knew how I hate myself!"
"But I love you with all my heart," said Alice. "Glencora, I have learned to love you so dearly!"
"Then you are the only being that does. He can't love me. How is it possible? You - and perhaps another."
"There are many who love you. Mr. Palliser loves you."
"It is impossible. I have never said a word to him, or done anything for him, that could make him love me. The mother of his child he might have loved. Why should he love me? We were told to marry each other and did it. When could he have learned to love me? But, Alice, he requires no loving, either to take or to give. I wish it were the same with me."
Alice said what she could to comfort her, but her words were of little avail. At last Glencora said, "I am so grateful that you love me! Someone's love I must have found - or I could not have remained here."

Chapter 25: In Which Much of the History of the Pallisers Is Told