Phineas Redux

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  THE DUKE'S WILL.

  On the ninth day after Madame Goesler's arrival the Duke died, andLady Glencora Palliser became Duchess of Omnium. But the changeprobably was much greater to Mr. Palliser than to his wife. It wouldseem to be impossible to imagine a greater change than had come uponhim. As to rank, he was raised from that of a simple commoner to thevery top of the tree. He was made master of almost unlimited wealth,Garters, and lord-lieutenancies; and all the added grandeurs whichcome from high influence when joined to high rank were sure to behis. But he was no more moved by these things than would have been agod, or a block of wood. His uncle was dead; but his uncle had beenan old man, and his grief on that score was moderate. As soon as hisuncle's body had been laid in the family vault at Gatherum, men wouldcall him Duke of Omnium; and then he could never sit again in theHouse of Commons. It was in that light, and in that light only, thathe regarded the matter. To his uncle it had been everything to beDuke of Omnium. To Plantagenet Palliser it was less than nothing.He had lived among men and women with titles all his life, himselfuntitled, but regarded by them as one of themselves, till the thing,in his estimation, had come to seem almost nothing. One man walkedout of a room before another man; and he, as Chancellor of theExchequer, had, during a part of his career, walked out of most roomsbefore most men. But he cared not at all whether he walked out firstor last,--and for him there was nothing else in it. It was a toy thatwould perhaps please his wife, but he doubted even whether she wouldnot cease to be Lady Glencora with regret. In himself this thing thathad happened had absolutely crushed him. He had won for himself byhis own aptitudes and his own industry one special position in theempire,--and that position, and that alone, was incompatible with therank which he was obliged to assume! His case was very hard, and hefelt it;--but he made no complaint to human ears. "I suppose you mustgive up the Exchequer," his wife said to him. He shook his head, andmade no reply. Even to her he could not explain his feelings.

  I think, too, that she did regret the change in her name, though shewas by no means indifferent to the rank. As Lady Glencora she hadmade a reputation which might very possibly fall away from her asDuchess of Omnium. Fame is a skittish jade, more fickle even thanFortune, and apt to shy, and bolt, and plunge away on very triflingcauses. As Lady Glencora Palliser she was known to every one, and hadalways done exactly as she had pleased. The world in which she livedhad submitted to her fantasies, and had placed her on a pedestal fromwhich, as Lady Glencora, nothing could have moved her. She was by nomeans sure that the same pedestal would be able to carry the Duchessof Omnium. She must begin again, and such beginnings are dangerous.As Lady Glencora she had almost taken upon herself to create arivalry in society to certain very distinguished, and indeedillustrious, people. There were only two houses in London, she usedto say, to which she never went. The "never" was not quite true;--butthere had been something in it. She doubted whether as Duchess ofOmnium she could go on with this. She must lay down her mischief,and abandon her eccentricity, and in some degree act like otherduchesses. "The poor old man," she said to Madame Goesler; "I wishhe could have gone on living a little longer." At this time thetwo ladies were alone together at Matching. Mr. Palliser, with thecousins, had gone to Gatherum, whither also had been sent all thatremained of the late Duke, in order that fitting funeral obsequiesmight be celebrated over the great family vault.

  "He would hardly have wished it himself, I think."

  "One never knows,--and as far as one can look into futurity one hasno idea what would be one's own feelings. I suppose he did enjoylife."

  "Hardly, for the last twelve months," said Madame Goesler.

  "I think he did. He was happy when you were about him; and heinterested himself about things. Do you remember how much he used tothink of Lady Eustace and her diamonds? When I first knew him he wastoo magnificent to care about anything."

  "I suppose his nature was the same."

  "Yes, my dear; his nature was the same, but he was strong enough torestrain his nature, and wise enough to know that his magnificencewas incompatible with ordinary interests. As he got to be older hebroke down, and took up with mere mortal gossip. But I think it musthave made him happier."

  "He showed his weakness in coming to me," said Madame Goesler,laughing.

  "Of course he did;--not in liking your society, but in wanting togive you his name. I have often wondered what kind of things he usedto say to that old Lady Hartletop. That was in his full grandeur,and he never condescended to speak much then. I used to think him sohard; but I suppose he was only acting his part. I used to call himthe Grand Lama to Plantagenet when we were first married,--beforePlanty was born. I shall always call him Silverbridge now instead ofPlanty."

  "I would let others do that."

  "Of course I was joking; but others will, and he will be spoilt.I wonder whether he will live to be a Grand Lama or a popularMinister. There cannot be two positions further apart. My husband,no doubt, thinks a good deal of himself as a statesman and a cleverpolitician,--at least I suppose he does; but he has not the slightestreverence for himself as a nobleman. If the dear old Duke werehobbling along Piccadilly, he was conscious that Piccadilly wasgraced by his presence, and never moved without being aware thatpeople looked at him, and whispered to each other,--'There goes theDuke of Omnium.' Plantagenet considers himself inferior to a sweeperwhile on the crossing, and never feels any pride of place unless heis sitting on the Treasury Bench with his hat over his eyes."

  "He'll never sit on the Treasury Bench again."

  "No;--poor dear. He's an Othello now with a vengeance, for hisoccupation is gone. I spoke to him about your friend and the foxes,and he told me to write to Mr. Fothergill. I will as soon as it'sdecent. I fancy a new duchess shouldn't write letters about foxestill the old Duke is buried. I wonder what sort of a will he'll havemade. There's nothing I care twopence for except his pearls. No manin England had such a collection of precious stones. They'd beenyours, my dear, if you had consented to be Mrs. O."

  The Duke was buried and the will was read, and Plantagenet Palliserwas addressed as Duke of Omnium by all the tenantry and retainersof the family in the great hall of Gatherum Castle. Mr. Fothergill,who had upon occasion in former days been driven by his duty toremonstrate with the heir, was all submission. Planty Pall had cometo the throne, and half a county was ready to worship him. But hedid not know how to endure worship, and the half county declaredthat he was stern and proud, and more haughty even than his uncle.At every "Grace" that was flung at him he winced and was miserable,and declared to himself that he should never become accustomed tohis new life. So he sat all alone, and meditated how he might bestreconcile the forty-eight farthings which go to a shilling with thatthorough-going useful decimal, fifty.

  But his meditations did not prevent him from writing to his wife, andon the following morning, Lady Glencora,--as she shall be called nowfor the last time,--received a letter from him which disturbed her agood deal. She was in her room when it was brought to her, and foran hour after reading it hardly knew how to see her guest and friend,Madame Goesler. The passage in the letter which produced this dismaywas as follows:--"He has left to Madame Goesler twenty thousandpounds and all his jewels. The money may be very well, but I thinkhe has been wrong about the jewellery. As to myself I do not care astraw, but you will be sorry; and then people will talk. The lawyerswill, of course, write to her, but I suppose you had better tell her.They seem to think that the stones are worth a great deal of money;but I have long learned never to believe any statement that is madeto me. They are all here, and I suppose she will have to send someauthorised person to have them packed. There is a regular inventory,of which a copy shall be sent to her by post as soon as it can beprepared." Now it must be owned that the duchess did begrudge herfriend the duke's collection of pearls and diamonds.

  About noon they met. "My dear," she said, "you had better hear yourgood fortune at once. Read that,--just that side. Plantagenet iswrong in saying that I
shall regret it. I don't care a bit aboutit. If I want a ring or a brooch he can buy me one. But I never didcare about such things, and I don't now. The money is all just as itshould be." Madame Goesler read the passage, and the blood mountedup into her face. She read it very slowly, and when she had finishedreading it she was for a moment or two at a loss for her words toexpress herself. "You had better send one of Garnett's people,"said the Duchess, naming the house of a distinguished jeweller andgoldsmith in London.

  "It will hardly need," said Madame Goesler.

  "You had better be careful. There is no knowing what they are worth.He spent half his income on them, I believe, during part of hislife." There was a roughness about the Duchess of which she washerself conscious, but which she could not restrain, though she knewthat it betrayed her chagrin.

  Madame Goesler came gently up to her and touched her arm caressingly."Do you remember," said Madame Goesler, "a small ring with a blackdiamond,--I suppose it was a diamond,--which he always wore?"

  "I remember that he always did wear such a ring."

  "I should like to have that," said Madame Goesler.

  "You have them all,--everything. He makes no distinction."

  "I should like to have that, Lady Glen,--for the sake of the handthat wore it. But, as God is great above us, I will never take aughtelse that has belonged to the Duke."

  "Not take them!"

  "Not a gem; not a stone; not a shilling."

  "But you must."

  "I rather think that I can be under no such obligation," she said,laughing. "Will you write to Mr. Palliser,--or I should say, to theDuke,--to-night, and tell him that my mind is absolutely made up?"

  "I certainly shall not do that."

  "Then I must. As it is, I shall have pleasant memories of his Grace.According to my ability I have endeavoured to be good to him, and Ihave no stain on my conscience because of his friendship. If I tookhis money and his jewels,--or rather your money and your jewels,--doyou think I could say as much?"

  "Everybody takes what anybody leaves them by will."

  "I will be an exception to the rule, Lady Glen. Don't you think thatyour friendship is more to me than all the diamonds in London?"

  "You shall have both, my dear," said the Duchess,--quite in earnestin her promise. Madame Goesler shook her head. "Nobody everrepudiates legacies. The Queen would take the jewels if they wereleft to her."

  "I am not the Queen. I have to be more careful what I do than anyqueen. I will take nothing under the Duke's will. I will ask a boonwhich I have already named, and if it be given me as a gift bythe Duke's heir, I will wear it till I die. You will write to Mr.Palliser?"

  "I couldn't do it," said the Duchess.

  "Then I will write myself." And she did write, and of all the richthings which the Duke of Omnium had left to her, she took nothing butthe little ring with the black stone which he had always worn on hisfinger.