"I have received a similar intimation," observed his lordship.
"At present the matter is a profound secret."
"Yes—a profound secret: known only to the member's friends, and me and my friends, and you and your friends," added the nobleman, seriously meaning what he said without any attempt at irony or satire.
"Of course there will be an election in February, shortly after the Houses meet," continued Greenwood. "I was going to observe to your lordship that I should be most happy to offer myself as a candidate——"
"You, Greenwood! What—are you a politician?"
"Not so profound nor so well versed as your lordship; but I flatter myself that, aided by your lordship's advice——"
"Lady Tremordyn would never consent to it!"
"And by Lady Tremordyn's suggestions——"
"It would never do! She will have a man of rank and family; and—excuse me, Greenwood—although you are no doubt rich enough far a lord, and well educated, and clever, and so on—the deuce of it is that we don't know who the devil you are!"
"An excellent family—an excellent family, my dear lord," exclaimed Mr. Greenwood; "and although nothing equal to your own, which I know to be the most ancient in England——"
"Or Scotland, or Ireland, either."
"Or Scotland, or Ireland, or even Europe—still——"
"No—it cannot be done, Greenwood;—it cannot be done," interrupted the nobleman. "I would do any thing to oblige you;—but——"
At that moment the door opened, and Lafleur entered the study.
"If you please, sir," said the French valet, "the Duke of Portsmouth has sent round to know whether he can positively rely upon your company to dinner this evening?"
"My best compliments to his grace, Lafleur," said Mr. Greenwood, affecting to meditate upon this message for a moment, "and I will do myself the honour of waiting on his grace at the usual hour."
"Very good, sir."
And Lafleur retired.
"Well, after all," resumed Lord Tremordyn, who had not lost a word of this message and the answer, "I think I might undertake to arrange the Rottenborough business for you. You have high acquaintances—and they often do more good than high connexions. So we will consider that matter as settled."
"I am deeply obliged to your lordship," said Greenwood, with the calmness of a man who had never entertained a fear of being ultimately enabled to carry his point: "you will see that I shall imitate in the Lower House your lordship's admirable conduct in the Upper, to the very best of my ability."
"Of course you will always support the measures I support, and oppose those which I may oppose?"
"Oh! that is a matter of course! What would become of society—where should we be, if the Commons did not obey the great landholders who allow them to be returned?"
"Ah! what indeed?" said the nobleman, shaking his head ominously. "But really, Greenwood, I wasn't at all aware that you were half so clever a politician as I see you are."
"Your lordship does me honour. I know how to value your lordship's good opinion," said Greenwood, in a meek and submissive manner: then, after a moment's silence, he added, "By the bye, I understand that our mutual friend Alteroni, and his amiable wife, and beautiful daughter, are going to pass the first few weeks of the new year with your lordship and Lady Tremordyn?"
"Yes: we shall be very gay. The signora must pick up a husband amongst the young nobles or scions of great families whom she will meet this winter in London."
"Do you not know, my lord," said Greenwood, sinking his voice to a mysterious whisper, "that Count Alteroni detests gaiety? are you not aware that he and the ladies have accepted your kind invitation under the impression that they will enjoy the pleasing society of your lordship and Lady Tremordyn, and a few select friends only?"
"I am glad you have told me that!" exclaimed the nobleman "We will have no gaiety at all."
"The count has honoured me with his utmost confidence, and his sincere friendship," said Greenwood.
"Oh! of course you will be welcome on all occasions: do not wait for invitations—I give you a general one."
"I am more than ever indebted to your lordship."
After a little more conversation in the same strain, the nobleman took his leave, more pleased with Mr. Greenwood than ever.
This gentleman, the moment he was alone, threw himself into his chair, and smiled complacently.
"Gained all my points!" he said, musing. "I shall be a member of parliament—the fair Isabella will stand no chance of captivating some wealthy and titled individual who might woo and win her—and, I have obtained a general invitation to Lord Tremordyn's dwelling! I alone shall therefore have an opportunity of paying court to this Italian beauty."
The French valet entered the room.
"Lady Cecilia Harborough is in the drawing-room, sir."
Mr. Greenwood thrust the morocco case containing the diamonds into the pocket of his dressing-gown; and then proceeded to the apartment where the lady was waiting.
Lady Cecilia Harborough was about two-and-twenty, and very beautiful. Her hair was auburn, her eyes blue, and her features regular. Her figure was good; but she was very slightly made—a perfect sylph in symmetry and model. Nursed amidst fashionable pleasure and aristocratic dissipation, she was without those principles which are the very basis of virtue. If she were true and faithful to her husband, it was only because she had not been strongly tempted to prove otherwise: if she had never indulged in an intrigue, it was simply because one to her taste had never come in her way. Her passions were strong—her disposition decidedly sensual. Thus was it that she had become an easy prey to Sir Rupert Harborough; and when she had discovered that she was in a way to become a mother in consequence of that amour, she only repented of her conduct through dread of shame, and not for the mere fact of having deviated from the path of virtue. Her disgrace was concealed by a patched-up marriage with her seducer, a trip to the Continent, and the death of the child at its birth; and thus there was no scandal in society attached to the name of Lady Cecilia Harborough.
Mr. Greenwood had not made her wait many moments when he entered the drawing-room.
Lady Cecilia rose, and hastening towards him, said, "Oh! Mr. Greenwood, what can you think of me after the imprudent step I have taken in coming alone and unattended?"
"I can only think, Lady Cecilia," said Greenwood, handing her to a seat, and taking a chair near her, "that you have done me an honour, the extent of which I can fully appreciate."
"But why insist upon this visit to you? why could you not have called upon me?" inquired the lady impatiently.
"Your ladyship wishes to consult with me upon financial affairs: and every capitalist receives visits, and does not pay them, when they refer to business only."
"Thank you for this apology for my conduct. I fancied that I was guilty of a very great imprudence; you have reassured me upon that head;"—and a smile played upon the fair patrician's lips.
"In what manner can I be of service to your ladyship? You perceive that I will save you the trouble of even introducing a disagreeable subject."
"Well, Mr. Greenwood," said Lady Cecilia, with that easy familiarity which is always shown towards those who are confidants in cases of pecuniary embarrassment—"you are well aware of Sir Rupert's unfortunate situation; and of course his position is also mine. We are literally without the means of paying the common weekly bills of the house, and the servants'