MRS. ARBUTHNOT. I am afraid I don’t. I live so much out of the world,
and see so few people. I remember hearing years ago of an old Lord
Illingworth who lived in Yorkshire, I think.
LADY HUNSTANTON. Ah, yes. That would be the last Earl but one. He was
a very curious man. He wanted to marry beneath him. Or wouldn’t, I
believe. There was some scandal about it. The present Lord Illingworth
is quite different. He is very distinguished. He does—well, he does
nothing, which I am afraid our pretty American visitor here thinks very
wrong of anybody, and I don’t know that he cares much for the subjects in
which you are so interested, dear Mrs. Arbuthnot. Do you think,
Caroline, that Lord Illingworth is interested in the Housing of the Poor?
LADY CAROLINE. I should fancy not at all, Jane.
LADY HUNSTANTON. We all have our different tastes, have we not? But
Lord Illingworth has a very high position, and there is nothing he
couldn’t get if he chose to ask for it. Of course, he is comparatively a
young man still, and he has only come to his title within—how long
exactly is it, Caroline, since Lord Illingworth succeeded?
LADY CAROLINE. About four years, I think, Jane. I know it was the same
year in which my brother had his last exposure in the evening newspapers.
LADY HUNSTANTON. Ah, I remember. That would be about four years ago.
Of course, there were a great many people between the present Lord
Illingworth and the title, Mrs. Arbuthnot. There was—who was there,
Caroline?
LADY CAROLINE. There was poor Margaret’s baby. You remember how anxious
she was to have a boy, and it was a boy, but it died, and her husband
died shortly afterwards, and she married almost immediately one of Lord
Ascot’s sons, who, I am told, beats her.
LADY HUNSTANTON. Ah, that is in the family, dear, that is in the family.
And there was also, I remember, a clergyman who wanted to be a lunatic,
or a lunatic who wanted to be a clergyman, I forget which, but I know the
Court of Chancery investigated the matter, and decided that he was quite
sane. And I saw him afterwards at poor Lord Plumstead’s with straws in
his hair, or something very odd about him. I can’t recall what. I often
regret, Lady Caroline, that dear Lady Cecilia never lived to see her son
get the title.
MRS. ARBUTHNOT. Lady Cecilia?
LADY HUNSTANTON. Lord Illingworth’s mother, dear Mrs. Arbuthnot, was one
of the Duchess of Jerningham’s pretty daughters, and she married Sir
Thomas Harford, who wasn’t considered a very good match for her at the
time, though he was said to be the handsomest man in London. I knew them
all quite intimately, and both the sons, Arthur and George.
MRS. ARBUTHNOT. It was the eldest son who succeeded, of course, Lady
Hunstanton?
LADY HUNSTANTON. No, dear, he was killed in the hunting field. Or was
it fishing, Caroline? I forget. But George came in for everything. I
always tell him that no younger son has ever had such good luck as he has
had.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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