“Oh! nothing will prevent his taking his degree,” said the duchess, “but
I fear there must be some delay. There is a vacancy for our county—Mr.
Sandstone is dead, and they insist upon returning Bertram. I hope he
will be of age before the nomination. The duke is much opposed to it; he
wishes him to wait; but in these days it is not so easy for young men to
get into Parliament. It is not as it used to be; we cannot choose.”
“This is an important event,” said Lothair to Lady Corisande.
“I think it is; nor do I believe Bertram is too young for public life.
These are not times to be laggard.”
“There is no doubt they are very serious times,” said Lothair.
“I have every confidence in Bertram—in his ability and his principles.”
The ladies began to talk about the approaching drawing-room and Lady
Corisande’s presentation, and Lothair thought it right to make his
obeisance and withdraw. He met in the hall Father Coleman, who was in
fact looking after him, and would have induced him to repair to the
father’s room and hold some interesting conversation, but Lothair was
not so congenial as usual. He was even abrupt, and the father, who
never pressed any thing, assuming that Lothair had some engagement,
relinquished with a serene brow, but not without chagrin, what he had
deemed might have proved a golden opportunity.
And yet Lothair had no engagement, and did not know where to go or what
to do with himself. But he wanted to be alone, and of all persons in the
world at that moment, he had a sort of instinct that the one he wished
least to converse with was Father Coleman.
“She has every confidence in his principles,” said Lothair to himself as
he mounted his horse, “and his principles were mine six months ago, when
I was at Brentham. Delicious Brentham! It seems like a dream; but every
thing seems like a dream; I hardly know whether life is agony or bliss.”
CHAPTER 20 The duke was one of the few gentlemen in London who lived
in a palace. One of the half-dozen of those stately structures that our
capital boasts had fallen to his lot.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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