England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
“Not immediately. I could not marry till a year had elapsed after our
great sorrow; and it is more agreeable, even to him, that our union
should be delayed till the session is over. He wants to leave England;
go abroad; have a real holiday. He has always had a dream of travelling
in Spain; well, we are to realise the dream. If we could get off at the
end of July, we might go to Paris, and then to Madrid, and travel in
Andalusia in the autumn, and then catch the packet at Gibraltar, and get
home just in time for the November cabinets.”
“Dear Myra! how wonderful it all seems!” involuntarily exclaimed
Endymion.
“Yes, but more wonderful things will happen. We have now got a lever
to move the world. Understand, my dear Endymion, that nothing is to
be announced at present. It will be known only to this family, and the
Penruddocks. I am bound to tell them, even immediately; they are friends
that never can be forgotten. I have always kept up my correspondence
with Mrs. Penruddock. Besides, I shall tell her in confidence, and she
is perfectly to be depended on. I am going to ask my lord to let Mr.
Penruddock marry us.”
“Oh! that will be capital,” said Endymion.
“There is another person, by the by, who must know it, at least my lord
says so,” said Myra, “and that is Lady Montfort; you have heard of that
lady and her plans. Well, she must be told--at least, sooner or later.
She will be annoyed, and she will hate me. I cannot help it; every one
is hated by somebody.”
During the three months that had to elapse before the happy day, several
incidents occurred that ought to be noted. In the first place, Lady
Montfort, though disappointed and very much astonished, bore the
communication from Lord Roehampton more kindly than he had anticipated.
Lord Roehampton made it by letter, and his letters to women were more
happy even than his despatches to ministers, and they were unrivalled.
He put the matter in the most skilful form. Myra had been born in a
social position not inferior to his own, and was the daughter of one of
his earliest political friends. He did not dilate too much on her charms
and captivating qualities, but sufficiently for the dignity of her
who was to become his wife. And then he confessed to Lady Montfort how
completely his heart and happiness were set on Lady Roehampton being
welcomed becomingly by his friends; he was well aware, that in these
matters things did not always proceed as one could wish, but this was
the moment, and this the occasion, to test a friend, and he believed he
had the dearest, the most faithful, the most fascinating, and the most
powerful in Lady Montfort.
“Well, we must put the best face upon it,” exclaimed that lady; “he was
always romantic. But, as he says, or thinks, what is the use of friends
if they do not help you in a scrape?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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