England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
“I see him every day at the same time,” replied Lady Montfort. “He
generally walks down to the House of Commons with Mr. Wilton, and when
they have answered questions, and he has got all the news of the lobby,
he comes to me. I always manage to get home from my drive to give him
half an hour before dinner.”
CHAPTER LXVI
Lady Montfort drove off to the private residence of the Secretary of
the Treasury, who was of course in the great secret. She looked over his
lists, examined his books, and seemed to have as much acquaintance with
electioneering details as that wily and experienced gentleman himself.
“Is there anything I can do?” she repeatedly inquired; “command me
without compunction. Is it any use giving any parties? Can I write any
letters? Can I see anybody?”
“If you could stir up my lord a little?” said the secretary inquiringly.
“Well, that is difficult,” said Lady Montfort, “perhaps impossible. But
you have all his influence, and when there is a point that presses you
must let me know.”
“If he would only speak to his agents?” said the secretary, “but they
say he will not, and he has a terrible fellow in ----shire, who I hear
is one of the stewards for a dinner to Sir Robert.”
“I have stopped all that,” said Lady Montfort. “That was Odo’s doing,
who is himself not very sound; full of prejudices about O’Connell, and
all that stuff. But he must go with his party. You need not fear about
him.”
“Well! it is a leap in the dark,” said the secretary.
“Oh! no,” said Lady Montfort, “all will go right. A starving people must
be in favour of a government who will give them bread for nothing. By
the by, there is one thing, my dear Mr. Secretary, you must remember. I
must have one seat, a certain seat, reserved for my nomination.”
“A certain seat in these days is a rare gem,” said the secretary.
“Yes, but I must have it nevertheless,” said Lady Montfort. “I don’t
care about the cost or the trouble--but it must be certain.”
Then she went home and wrote a line to Endymion, to tell him that it was
all settled, that she had seen his sister, who agreed with her that it
must be done, and that she had called on the Secretary of the Treasury,
and had secured a certain seat. “I wish you could come to luncheon,” she
added, “but I suppose that is impossible; you are always so busy. Why
were you not in the Foreign Office? I am now going to call on the Tory
women to see how they look, but I shall be at home a good while before
seven, and of course count on seeing you.”
In the meantime, Endymion by no means shared the pleasurable excitement
of his fair friend. His was an agitated walk from the Albany to
Whitehall, where he resumed his duties moody and disquieted. There was a
large correspondence this morning, which was a distraction and a relief,
until the bell of Mr. Sidney Wilton sounded, and he was in attendance on
his chief.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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