CHAPTER VIII. "Sa femme ne manquera pas d'adresse pour le faire revenir de sa première résolution, et l'obliger à faire sa volonté avant qu'il s'en doute. Un tel triomphe est le chef d'œuvre d'une femme." Les Sympathies; ou, l'Art de juger par les THE room was pannelled with Italian landscape-the vineyard hung its trellised wreath as it does in pictures and plays a river, wound through one department; a temple, whose graceful arch, and one or two columns yet entire, told how beautiful the shrine must have been ere its pillars were broken and its divinity departed, occupied a second; while a fair city, its spires sunny in the distance, gave variety to another; a scroll of oak leaves, in gold, marked the divisions -and another oaken wreath fastened back the blue satin folds of the windows, which opened upon a conservatory filled with the rarest exotics-and a small marble fountain in the midst showered its musical and diamond rain over the rich cactuses around-those gems of the world of flowers, as if their native soil had dyed their leaves with the glorious colors which wait impatiently for daylight in its mines; one, more than all, seemed the very flower of a fairy tale a huge green snake, with a head of flame-a serpent king, with its crown of rubies-its red hues colored like fire the water below. Around the room was scattered all that makes luxury forgotten in taste; the little French clock, where a golden Cupid sat swinging, and the lapse of time is only told by music-the beautiful Annuals, those Assyrians of literature, "gleaming in purple and gold," and opened at some lovely scene or lovelier face-the cut crystal glass, with one rose bending over the side-the alabaster vases carved as in snow- glittering toys, and china colored with the rainbow, and diminutive enough to be Oberon's offering to his fairy queen—a fan, whose soft pink feathers cast their own delicate shade on the face reflected in the miniature mirror set in their centre-a large cashmere shawl, with its border of roses, thrown carelessly on a chair-a crimson cushion, where lay sleeping a Blenheim dog, almost small enough to have passed through the royal ring in that most fairy tale of the White Cat-all bespoke a lady's room. Looking the very being for the atmosphere of palaces, sat its beautiful mistress by the small breakfast table, and with a smile that did not always of a morning grace her exquisite face and yet she was only tete a tete with her husband— which smile, however, would have been easily understood by any one who had heard the conversation between Lady Lauriston and her daughter the night before. It ended with, 66 as if Algernon could rufuse me any thing. His brother's influence greater than mine! You shall see, mamma. He wants so much to go back to that stupid old castle, that one word of our leaving town, and I may make my own conditions.' "Be cautious, my dear love! Men do not like to be interfered with, even by a wife, in politics!" "Politics! as if it were to me other than matter of affection. It is all for the sake of our dear Alfred." Ah, Adelaide, what talents you have!" Our principal actions are the result of our smallest motives. Now Lady Etheringhame had divers minute influences of dislike towards Lorraine. First, he had not been sufficiently miserable at her marriage with another; secondly, he had not courted her since; and third, last, and worst, she saw that Edward thoroughly appreciated the motives and manœuvres of her marriage; in short, no food could possibly be extracted from him for her insatiable vanity. The death of Mr. Eskville had left the seat of the borough of A. at Lord Etheringhame's disposal; and it had been long understood that the said seat was, immediately on its becoming vacant, to be filled by Lorraine; but Lady Lauriston thought it a pity her son should miss such an opportunity of getting into parliament. The plan was suggested to Adelaide, and, as we have seen, met with her ready concurrence; with her first cup of coffee, therefore, she commenced operations. "I must show you, Algernon, a new purchase of mine" -so saying she drew towards them a small table, in the middle of which was set a china plate, or rather picture— "I bought it for that drooping tree in the midst: it is so like one in the park." "Ah, Adelaide, I duly admire the painting; but how much more beautiful the reality!" 66 "Now, don't you grow quite angry in your defence of rural innocence. It is my misfortune, not my fault, that the felicity of the country is, to my mind, like the merriment of Christmas, more heard of than seen.' 66 But, Adelaide, the death of Mr. Eskville makes it absolutely necessary that I, at least, should go to the castle." "Nay, that is presuming on my goodnature. Trust you at Etheringhame without me! No, no, that old chestnut avenue is too dangerous a rival!" "If you would but go with me!" "If you would but stay with me!" "But every body has left town. here soon." Why, autumn will be "We can spend a delightful one at Brighton." "But, Adelaide, I must see about this vacant borough. I must keep up my interest." 66 "O that tiresome borough! There, mamma kept me up last night talking about its divers advantages. It is well you named it, for I had utterly forgotten that I had faithfully promised her to ask you to give it to Alfred. I need not tell you that I assured her you would.' "My dearest Adelaide, you promised what is utterly out of my power." "Oh, you wish to make a favor of it, do you? Well, I will beg so prettily"-and joining her beautiful hands, and laying them on his arm- Pray do; I have quite set my heart upon it." 66 "But the borough is as good as Edward's; it has always been considered his." "Yes I do not doubt it-he will rule you in that as in every thing else. IfI had known my wishes were in opposition to Mr. Lorrrine's, I should have known it was in vain to express them." "My dearest Adelaide, how can you say so?" "You know it is the truth-that every body laughs at the absurd authority your brother has over you. Much as it has mortified me, I should never have mentioned the subject; but to find myself so completely a cipher when opposed to him, I must own I do feel it." "But, Adelaide, this is my brother's great step in public life a borough-" "Excuse my interruption; but it must make much difference to him, when you know Mr. Delawarr could and would bring him into parliament any day." "I believe you are right in that: still, he would prefer coming in on the family interest." "So, for a mere preference, you will disappoint poor Merton of his only chance, and refuse my earnest petition?" 66 Well, my love, I will ask Edward about it." "So you will not venture to act till you have first asked leave! Now for shame-do be yourself! I will not have you so idle! Do show Mr. Lorraine you are not quite the passive tool in his hands he takes you to be." 66 66 But, my dear Adelaide”– Ah, there is Lorraine's phaeton at the door! I wonder is it to this tiresome borough you owe such an early visit? Well, love, we shall tell him you intend nominating Merton." Edward was in the room before an answer could be made the little Blenheim waked at his step, and jumped up to caress him. I would sooner take a dog or a child's judgment of a person's nature than that of a grand jury. Lord Etheringhame cast a deprecating look at his wife, as their visiter stooped down to caress the dog; but Adelaide was too diplomatic to lose that only irreparable loss--present opportunity. "We are arranging our return to the castle: may we hope to number you among our visiters?" Algernon-O the pleasantness of selfdeception!--immediately hoping that this was a tacit renunciation of her project, added his entreaties-Lorraine accepted. Alas! he took the borough so much for granted, that he never even thought about it; and the conversation for the next half hour turned on indifferent topics. Just as he was departing, Lady Etheringhame said: "We are not quite disinterested in hoping you will come to Etheringhame: we want you to help us to canvass. Algernon has promised to do all he can to bring in my brother for Avondale." Edward turned to Lord Etheringhame, and read in his overpowering confusion confirmation. To hold our surprises in perfect subjection is one of the first lessons of society; and he now, with those helpful auxiliaries, pride and anger, controlled his to perfection. "So Lord Merton is to be our family representative !" (though society controls the expression of surpise, it gives full license to that of contempt.) "I really must call on Lady Lauriston to congratulate her on the attainment of her object. Many failures only increase the satisfaction of final success. Lady Etheringhame glanced at Lorraine, half in anger. half in defiance, as she replied: "Nay, Merton must thank me. It would have been hard if Algernon had denied my first request," turning to her husband with such a very sweet smile. Edward now rose from his seat, but paused for a moment, so that he completely fronted his brother. Perhaps never face was more completely made to express energetic disdain than his own: the finely moulded brow, slightly but sternly knit-the mouth, so scornful in its curve the dark eyes filled with flashing and overpowering light which is from the kindled thought and feeling within the pale cheek, which we so unconsciously associate with the idea of intellect,-all gave full force to his parting words. "While congratulating, I must not forget to congratulate you, Algernon, on thus carrying your principles into action. I know how deeply you are impressed with the responsibility of him who possesses the power of sending the representatives of his country to Parliament. Lord Merton is equally calculated to understand and support its interests, whether we consider his habits or his talents. I congratulate you on your clever and high principled representative;"—and Lorraine left the room, in the comfortable conviction of having crowded as much annoyance as could be well comprised in a parting speech and considering that, only the day before, Lord Etheringhame had expressed his wonder to Edward, whether Merton was most fool or brute, and intimated no little disgust at his dissipation, so unredeemed by aught of refinementhis selfishness, so undisguised by even the thin veil of |