Volume Ii Part 6 (1/2)

'Alas, I've tried them,' said the Baronet, 'and I found they were of no use. As soon as they had fingered a fiver or two they began to give themselves such airs. I could not get on with them at all, and after all,' said the speaker, looking down complacently at his well-dressed figure, 'people prefer a gentleman.'

'Perhaps so; but real gentlemen are scarce nowadays,' said Wentworth.

'Where is the real gentleman now, brave, truthful, unsullied, with hands and heart clean, without fear or reproach? In political life, at any rate, he seems to me almost as extinct as the dodo.'

Wentworth was getting on dangerous ground. He had a faint suspicion that his visitor was not one of this cla.s.s. The visitor felt it himself, and was getting rather uncomfortable in consequence. He had come on business to hire a speaker, and to pay him for his services, and to be helped in other ways. Fellows who wrote in newspapers had, he knew, many ways of obliging a friend. It was important to him to get into Parliament. If he carried Sloville he conferred a favour on Ministers, who would reward him in due time with a comfortable office, where the pay was heavy and the burden light, and just at that time money was an object to our Baronet, who as a gambler and man of the world managed to get rid of a good deal of it in the course of a year. At any rate he rather liked the look of M.P. after his name, and M.P. he was determined to be. All his life he had lived in excitement, and now he had reached an age when the excitement of politics in lieu of wine or women or horse-racing or gambling had special charms.

'You see,' he remarked, 'we are an old family in the neighbourhood, and we have a certain amount of legitimate influence which will certainly be in my favour.'

He might have added that in the day of rotten boroughs it was as proprietor of Sloville, and as in that capacity a useful servant of the Government, that the first baronet of the family had been adorned with his hereditary rank. A Royal Duke had been guilty of gross misconduct-a slight indiscretion it was termed by his friends. The matter was brought before Parliament, and a vote by no means complimentary to H.R.H.-either as regards morals, or manners, or understanding-would have been carried, had not the Strahan of that day saved the Government by his casting vote.

Government was grateful, and so was Strahan-in the sense of further favours to come.

'Well, that is something,' said Wentworth; 'birth and connection are of some account in politics.'

'I should think so,' said the Baronet.

'And the borough is Liberal?'

'Most decidedly.'

'And you have a good chance of success?'

'Yes; if it were not for the publicans, who have great influence, and are bitterly opposed to the Liberals.'

'Naturally; their craft is in danger. Well, I might run down to one or two of your meetings.'

'Thanks; I'm much obliged. I thought about having a public meeting next week. There is no time to lose. It is a great thing to be first in the field.'

Just as Wentworth was about to reply, the door opened, and the actress rushed in. Suddenly perceiving that Wentworth had company, she exclaimed:

'I beg pardon. I thought you were alone.'

'Never mind, madam,' said the Baronet; 'we have just finished what we had to say,' turning to address the last comer. All at once he faltered, and turned all the colours of the rainbow. Could it be? Yes, it was the poor girl he had brought up to London, and then deserted-left, as he coolly supposed, to perish on the streets, and whom, to his surprise, he had seen radiant on the stage.

A stony and contemptuous stare was the actress's only reply.

'Dear me,' said the Baronet, recovering his self-possession. ''Pon my honour, this is an unexpected pleasure;' but before he had finished his sentence Rose had gone.

'You'll excuse me, I am sure,' said the Baronet, turning round to Wentworth; 'I believe that young lady and I are old friends. I had lost sight of her for a long while, and to my intense astonishment and gratification I found her acting at Drury Lane. I followed her the other night in a cab in order to overtake her and explain everything; but her coachman was quicker than mine, and I was obliged to give up the chase.'

'I am sorry you should have had so much trouble, Sir Watkin. That young lady needs no attention from you, nor will she require any explanation.'

'Well, I am sure I congratulate you, Mr. Wentworth, to have such an acquaintance,' returned the Baronet ungraciously. 'Her beauty as a girl quite overcame me, and I was very much tempted to act in a foolish manner to her. We men of the world are apt to do silly things.'

'Instead,' said Wentworth, with increasing anger, 'you preferred to make a fool of her. I found her when you had thrown her off, and abandoned her to the cruel mercies of the world. I saw her in her bitter agony and despair. I saved her from dishonour. For all you cared she might have been on the streets in infamy and rags. She has little to thank you for.

I know how she had been deceived. Weeping, she told me the story of her life; but I never knew who was the wrong-doer until this moment. I have an account to settle with him,' he added angrily.

'And you find him penitent,' said the Baronet.