CHAPTER XXIV.
MADAME GOESLER IS SENT FOR.
When the elder Mr. Maule had sufficiently recovered from theperturbation of mind and body into which he had been thrown by theill-timed and ill-worded proposition of his son to enable him toresume the accustomed tenour of his life, he arrayed himself in hismorning winter costume, and went forth in quest of a lady. So muchwas told some few chapters back, but the name of the lady was notthen disclosed. Starting from Victoria Street, Westminster, he walkedslowly across St. James's Park and the Green Park till he came out inPiccadilly, near the bottom of Park Lane. As he went up the Lane helooked at his boots, at his gloves, and at his trousers, and saw thatnothing was unduly soiled. The morning air was clear and frosty, andhad enabled him to dispense with the costly comfort of a cab. Mr.Maule hated cabs in the morning,--preferring never to move beyond thetether of his short daily constitutional walk. A cab for going out todinner was a necessity;--but his income would not stand two or threecabs a day. Consequently he never went north of Oxford Street, oreast of the theatres, or beyond Eccleston Square towards the river.The regions of South Kensington and New Brompton were a trouble tohim, as he found it impossible to lay down a limit in that directionwhich would not exclude him from things which he fain would notexclude. There are dinners given at South Kensington which such aman as Mr. Maule cannot afford not to eat. In Park Lane he knockedat the door of a very small house,--a house that might almost becalled tiny by comparison of its dimensions with those around it, andthen asked for Madame Goesler. Madame Goesler had that morning goneinto the country. Mr. Maule in his blandest manner expressed somesurprise, having understood that she had not long since returned fromHarrington Hall. To this the servant assented, but went on to explainthat she had been in town only a day or two when she was summoneddown to Matching by a telegram. It was believed, the man said, thatthe Duke of Omnium was poorly. "Oh! indeed;--I am sorry to hearthat," said Mr. Maule, with a wry face. Then, with steps perhaps alittle less careful, he walked back across the park to his club. Ontaking up the evening paper he at once saw a paragraph stating thatthe Duke of Omnium's condition to-day was much the same as yesterday;but that he had passed a quiet night. That very distinguished butnow aged physician, Sir Omicron Pie, was still staying at MatchingPriory. "So old Omnium is going off the hooks at last," said Mr.Maule to a club acquaintance.
The club acquaintance was in Parliament, and looked at the matterfrom a strictly parliamentary point of view. "Yes, indeed. It hasgiven a deal of trouble."
Mr. Maule was not parliamentary, and did not understand."Why trouble,--except to himself? He'll leave his Garter andstrawberry-leaves, and all his acres behind him."
"What is Gresham to do about the Exchequer when he comes in? I don'tknow whom he's to send there. They talk of Bonteen, but Bonteenhasn't half weight enough. They'll offer it to Monk, but Monk 'llnever take office again."
"Ah, yes. Planty Pall was Chancellor of the Exchequer. I suppose hemust give that up now?"
The parliamentary acquaintance looked up at the unparliamentary manwith that mingled disgust and pity which parliamentary gentlemen andladies always entertain for those who have not devoted their mindsto the constitutional forms of the country. "The Chancellor of theExchequer can't very well sit in the House of Lords, and Pallisercan't very well help becoming Duke of Omnium. I don't know whether hecan take the decimal coinage question with him, but I fear not. Theydon't like it at all in the city."
"I believe I'll go and play a rubber of whist," said Mr. Maule.He played his whist, and lost thirty points without showing theslightest displeasure, either by the tone of his voice or by anygrimace of his countenance. And yet the money which passed from hishands was material to him. But he was great at such efforts as these,and he understood well the fluctuations of the whist table. Thehalf-crowns which he had paid were only so much invested capital.
He dined at his club this evening, and joined tables with anotheracquaintance who was not parliamentary. Mr. Parkinson Seymour wasa man much of his own stamp, who cared not one straw as to anydifficulty which the Prime Minister might feel in filling the officeof Chancellor of the Exchequer. There were men by dozens ready andwilling, and no doubt able,--or at any rate, one as able as theother,--to manage the taxes of the country. But the blue riband andthe Lord Lieutenancy of Barsetshire were important things,--whichwould now be in the gift of Mr. Daubeny; and Lady Glencora would atlast be a duchess,--with much effect on Society, either good or bad.And Planty Pall would be a duke, with very much less capability, asMr. Parkinson Seymour thought, for filling that great office, thanthat which the man had displayed who was now supposed to be dyingat Matching. "He has been a fine old fellow," said Mr. ParkinsonSeymour.
"Very much so. There ain't many of that stamp left."
"I don't know one," continued the gentleman, with enthusiasm. "Theyall go in for something now, just as Jones goes in for being a bankclerk. They are politicians, or gamblers, or, by heaven, tradesmen,as some of them are. The Earl of Tydvil and Lord Merthyr are inpartnership together working their own mines,--by the Lord, with aregular deed of partnership, just like two cheesemongers. The Marquisof Maltanops has a share in a bitter beer house at Burton. Andthe Duke of Discount, who married old Ballance's daughter, and isbrother-in-law to young George Advance, retains his interest in thehouse in Lombard Street. I know it for a fact."
"Old Omnium was above that kind of thing," said Mr. Maule.
"Lord bless you;--quite another sort of man. There is nothing leftlike it now. With a princely income I don't suppose he ever put bya shilling in his life. I've heard it said that he couldn't affordto marry, living in the manner in which he chose to live. And heunderstood what dignity meant. None of them understand that now.Dukes are as common as dogs in the streets, and a marquis thinks nomore of himself than a market-gardener. I'm very sorry the old dukeshould go. The nephew may be very good at figures, but he isn't fitto fill his uncle's shoes. As for Lady Glencora, no doubt as thingsgo now she's very popular, but she's more like a dairy-maid than aduchess to my way of thinking."
There was not a club in London, and hardly a drawing-room in whichsomething was not said that day in consequence of the two bulletinswhich had appeared as to the condition of the old Duke;--and in noclub and in no drawing-room was a verdict given against the dyingman. It was acknowledged everywhere that he had played his part in anoble and even in a princely manner, that he had used with a becominggrace the rich things that had been given him, and that he haddeserved well of his country. And yet, perhaps, no man who had livedduring the same period, or any portion of the period, had done less,or had devoted himself more entirely to the consumption of goodthings without the slightest idea of producing anything in return!But he had looked like a duke, and known how to set a high price onhis own presence.
To Mr. Maule the threatened demise of this great man was not withouta peculiar interest. His acquaintance with Madame Goesler had notbeen of long standing, nor even as yet had it reached a closeintimacy. During the last London season he had been introduced toher, and had dined twice at her house. He endeavoured to make himselfagreeable to her, and he flattered himself that he had succeeded. Itmay be said of him generally, that he had the gift of making himselfpleasant to women. When last she had parted from him with a smile,repeating the last few words of some good story which he had toldher, the idea struck him that she after all might perhaps be thewoman. He made his inquiries, and had learned that there was nota shadow of a doubt as to her wealth,--or even to her power ofdisposing of that wealth as she pleased. So he wrote to her a prettylittle note, in which he gave to her the history of that good story,how it originated with a certain Cardinal, and might be found incertain memoirs,--which did not, however, bear the best reputation inthe world. Madame Goesler answered his note very graciously, thankinghim for the reference, but declaring that the information given wasalready so sufficient that she need prosecute the inquiry no further.Mr. Maule smiled as he declared to himself that those memoirs
wouldcertainly be in Madame Goesler's hands before many days were over.Had his intimacy been a little more advanced he would have sent thevolume to her.
But he also learned that there was some romance in the lady's lifewhich connected her with the Duke of Omnium. He was diligent inseeking information, and became assured that there could be no chancefor himself, or for any man, as long as the Duke was alive. Somehinted that there had been a private marriage,--a marriage, however,which Madame Goesler had bound herself by solemn oaths never todisclose. Others surmised that she was the Duke's daughter. Hintswere, of course, thrown out as to a connection of another kind,--butwith no great vigour, as it was admitted on all hands that LadyGlencora, the Duke's niece by marriage, and the mother of the Duke'sfuture heir, was Madame Goesler's great friend. That there wasa mystery was a fact very gratifying to the world at large; andperhaps, upon the whole, the more gratifying in that nothing hadoccurred to throw a gleam of light upon the matter since the factof the intimacy had become generally known. Mr. Maule was aware,however, that there could be no success for him as long as the Dukelived. Whatever might be the nature of the alliance, it was toostrong to admit of any other while it lasted. But the Duke was a veryold,--or, at least, a very infirm man. And now the Duke was dying.Of course it was only a chance. Mr. Maule knew the world too wellto lay out any great portion of his hopes on a prospect so doubtful.But it was worth a struggle, and he would so struggle that he mightenjoy success, should success come, without laying himself opento the pangs of disappointment. Mr. Maule hated to be unhappy oruncomfortable, and therefore never allowed any aspiration to proceedto such length as to be inconvenient to his feelings should it not begratified.
In the meantime Madame Max Goesler had been sent for, and had hurriedoff to Matching almost without a moment's preparation. As she sat inthe train, thinking of it, tears absolutely filled her eyes. "Poordear old man," she said to herself; and yet the poor dear old man hadsimply been a trouble to her, adding a most disagreeable task to herlife, and one which she was not called on to perform by any sense ofduty. "How is he?" she said anxiously, when she met Lady Glencora inthe hall at Matching. The two women kissed each other as though theyhad been almost sisters since their birth. "He is a little betternow, but he was very uneasy when we telegraphed this morning. Heasked for you twice, and then we thought it better to send."
"Oh, of course it was best," said Madame Goesler.