Vivian GreyDisraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield
ReligionIslamic
Vivian Grey
Disraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield
Bildungsromans; British -- Europe -- Fiction; Political fiction; Politicians -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
“Nearly a month: we are travelling in consequence of the ill-health of a
relation. It was our intention to have gone on to Pisa, but our
physician, in consequence of the extreme heat of the summer, is afraid
of the fatigue of travelling, and has recommended Ems. The air between
these mountains is very soft and pure, and I have no reason to regret at
present that we have not advanced farther on our journey.”
“The lady who was with your party at dinner is, I fear, your invalid.
She certainly does not look like one. I think,” said the Baron, with an
effort, “I think that her face is not unknown to me. It is difficult,
even after so many years, to mistake Miss--”
“Fane,” said Lady Madeleine, firmly; for it seemed that the Baron
required a little assistance at the end of his sentence.
“Ems,” returned his Excellency, with great rapidity of utterance, “Ems
is a charming place, at least to me. I have, within these few years,
quite recurred to the feelings of my boyhood; nothing to me is more
disgustingly wearisome than the gay bustle of a city. My present
diplomatic appointment at Frankfort ensures a constant life among the
most charming scenes of nature. Naples, which was offered to me, I
refused. Eight years ago, I should have thought an appointment at Naples
a Paradise on earth.”
“You must indeed be changed.”
“How beautiful is the vicinity of the Rhine! I have passed within these
three days, for almost the twentieth time in my life, through the
Rheingau; and yet how fresh, and lovely, and novel, seemed all its
various beauties! My young travelling companion is enthusiastic about
this gem of Germany. He is one of your Ladyship’s countrymen. Might I
take the liberty of presenting to you Mr. Grey?”
Lady Madeleine, as if it could now no longer be postponed, introduced to
the two gentlemen her brother, Mr. St. George. This gentleman, who,
during the whole previous conversation, had kept his head in a
horizontal position, looking neither to the right nor to the left, and
apparently unconscious that any one was conversing with his sister,
because, according to the English custom, he was not introduced, now
suddenly turned around, and welcomed his acquaintance with cordiality.
“Mr. Grey,” asked her Ladyship, “are you of Dorsetshire?”
“My mother is a Dorsetshire woman; her family name is Vivian, which name
I also bear.”
“Then I think we are longer acquainted than we have been introduced. I
met your father at Sir Hargrave Vivian’s last Christmas. He spoke of you
in those terms that make me glad that I have met his son. You have been
long from England, I think?”
“Nearly a year and a half.”
The Baron had resigned his place by Lady Madeleine, and was already in
close conversation with Mr. St. George, from whose arm Lady Madeleine’s
was disengaged. No one acted the part of Asmodeus with greater spirit
than his Excellency; and the secret history of every person whose secret
history could be amusing delighted Mr. St. George.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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