England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
and if the opportunity offers, you can vary the scene, and go to some
baths which princes and ministers frequent. The Count of Ferroll is now
at Paris, and minister for his court. You know him; that is well. But
he is my greatest friend, and, as you know, we habitually correspond. He
will do everything for you, I am sure, for my sake. It is not pleasant
to be separated; I do not wish to conceal that; I should have enjoyed
your society at Princedown, but I am doing right, and you will some day
thank me for it. We must soften the pang of separation by writing to
each other every day, so when we meet again it will only be as if we had
parted yesterday. Besides--who knows?--I may run over myself to Paris in
the winter. My lord always liked Paris; the only place he ever did, but
I am not very sanguine he will go; he is so afraid of being asked to
dinner by our ambassador.”
CHAPTER LXXII
In all lives, the highest and the humblest, there is a crisis in the
formation of character, and in the bent of the disposition. It comes
from many causes, and from some which on the surface are apparently even
trivial. It may be a book, a speech, a sermon; a man or a woman; a
great misfortune or a burst of prosperity. But the result is the same; a
sudden revelation to ourselves of our secret purpose, and a recognition
of our perhaps long shadowed, but now masterful convictions.
A crisis of this kind occurred to Endymion the day when he returned to
his chambers, after having taken the oaths and his seat in the House of
Commons. He felt the necessity of being alone. For nearly the last three
months he had been the excited actor in a strange and even mysterious
drama. There had been for him no time to reflect; all he could aim
at was to comprehend, and if possible control, the present and urgent
contingency; he had been called upon, almost unceasingly, to do or to
say something sudden and unexpected; and it was only now, when the
crest of the ascent had been reached, that he could look around him and
consider the new world opening to his gaze.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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