CHAPTER VI. BEAUTY AND BRAINS. A GREAT man is dependent for much of his greatness on his making his entry into the world at a fitting time. Through not attending to this essential requisite, many a man has gone to his grave, if not unwept, "unhonoured and unsung." The sum which Milton received for "Paradise Lost" cannot be called excessive; but had Milton lived later, it is doubtful whether he would have received anything at all; in all probability, he would have had to publish his monumental work at his own risk, and would certainly have been a loser by the venture, for people would not think it a duty, in the case of a modern writer, to place the great epic poem on their shelves, though they never took it down. No better advice could therefore be given to those who wish to become great, than the counsel to be very careful in selecting the period of their birth. This is true of all departments of human greatness, and not of literature alone. Helen of Troy was doubtless a very beautiful woman. By being born at an early period in the history of the world she contrived to be immortalised. In the prosaic epoch with which this history deals, she might have figured in the columns of the Society journals, have set the fashions, and received that highest of all tributes to feminine charms, the innocently-worded query of other women as to what the men could see in her. But she would not have set two peoples by the ears, or been handed down to posterity by a great singer. Lady Gwendolen Harley opened her eyes for the first time a little more than a quarter of a century before the ministry of the elder Floppington; and though she played a prominent part in the world, it is not what it would have been had she graced less prosaic times. She was of medium height; the meaning of which oftenused phrase appears to be that short people thought her rather tall, and tall people rather short. Her figure was well rounded and exquisitely proportioned, with a waist whose lines would have delighted Pheidias himself, from which it follows that it could not have been squeezed into a nineteen-inch corset. She had a charming face, perhaps a shade paler and more thoughtful than was consistent with perfect physical health, but, nevertheless, not lacking the sweet flush of rose on its lily fairness; eyes of lustrous gray, now sparkling with intellect, now liquid with emotion, but at all times the windows of a noble soul, fearless and true; a mouth not too small "for human nature's daily food;" a nose with finelycurved nostrils, and a somewhat lofty brow crowned by a mass of light chestnut hair. The daughter of a man who had held high office in the State she had early married a rising politician, who was unfortunately cut off before promise had ripened into performance. A widow and an orphan, she had found consolation in the emancipation of woman. She threw herself into the cause with all the enthusiasm of her nature. Had she been a mother, she might have given up to baby what was meant for womankind. As it was, she made the raising of the status of woman the business of her life. She wrote articles, in which she dwelt almost lovingly upon the wrongs to which woman was subject, upon the disadvantages under which she laboured, because she had to submit to laws made for her by man, and man alone. Her friends sometimes said that success in her mission would be the greatest misfortune that Fate could have in store for her. Life, without any of the wrongs committed by tyrant man to expatiate upon, would be dull and vapid indeed. There was some truth in this. It is sad to think what would become of all those who, from the pulpit and from the printing press, are alike engaged in endeavouring to make the world moral, if, by some miraculous agency, their words took effect. A perfect world, with nothing to find fault with, is too dreadful to contemplate; and more dreadful to reformers of all descriptions than to any one else. Evidently it is only the hopelessness of their efforts which induces them to persevere. Undeterred by such thoughts as these, or the banter of her friends, she brought all the resources of a clear intellect, a bright wit, and a noble enthusiasm to the work she had set herself-the raising of woman to a position of equality with man. Her ideal was: "Everywhere Two heads in council, two beside the hearth, and so earnestly had she worked, that the enfranchisement of woman was already within the sphere of practical politics. Indeed, had it not been for the unfortunate opposition of Floppington, she would, ere this, have reaped the first-fruits of her labours. Her friends wanted her to marry again. They regarded her views on the woman question as a malady for which marriage would prove an efficacious cure. Violent diseases need violent remedies. As yet, however, she had not complied with the wish of her friends. Having adopted advanced views as to the rights of her sex, she included the right to please herself amongst them, and, with the selfishness inherent in the very best of us, meant to avail herself freely of it. Young, beautiful, clever, and possessed of an ample fortune, society was all before her where to choose; and though many men were known to declaim against strong-minded women, not one of them but would have been too glad to have the chance of proposing to the leader of the much-maligned portion of the sex. As she was strong-minded, however, they did not get the chance. Nevertheless, society in general, and her friends in particular, felt certain that sooner or later she would marry. They took an interest in her, of which she was quite ignorant, and for which she would not have been grateful had she known it. And Society had made up its mind-not an extensive operation-that the happy man would be the Premier of England; but whether the Premier in esse or the Premier in posse was uncertain. In a word, the enjoyment of the position of wife of the Premier was to be hers. Whether she would enter upon it at once as the wife of Floppington, or await the reversion of it as the wife of Lord Bardolph Mountchapel, it was open to her to decide: that much freedom of action was allowed her,-no more. As therefore Lady Gwendolen and Lord Bardolph stood chatting together, many pairs of eyes were directed towards them. Animated groups filled the spacious rooms. Ministers, ambassadors, distinguished foreigners, the rank and beauty and wealth of England were gathered there; the majority discussing horse-racing or the latest scandal when they had grown tired of airing their political sagacity. The love of gossip is deeply implanted in the human heart. Peer and peasant alike share it; which accounts for the universal abuse which is its fate. Do we not all hasten to read Memoirs and Reminiscences, so that we shall not speak in ignorance when condemning alike their contents, and the depraved taste to which they pander? And as these pairs of eyes were directed towards them, be sure the owners did not fail to jump at conclusions. That is a form of athletics we are all addicted to. One can succeed in it without training. But there were restless figures here and there, whose mental gymnastics did not take this conventional form. An archbishop was discussing the indecent suggestions afforded to impure minds by ballet-dancing, as tested by his own intuition; a brilliant landscape-painter was priding himself on never having painted Nature from the nude; a professor of Esoteric Buddhism was expounding the successive re-incarnations of spirits on their upward course from Liberalism to Conservatism; an Egyptologist whose fondness for antiquities made him an enthusi astic lover of high old Toryism, was boring an interested group with his solution of cryptogramic papyri; a disciple of Maurice was boasting of his humility to an infidel native Indian, whom the Carlton was going to put up at the autumn elections; an able editor was busily engaged in a series of confidential conversations, in which the confidences were all on one side; a fascinating member of that once celebrated league, which turned "a primrose by the river's brim " into a pitcher-plant for luring in the unwary, was endeavouring to strengthen the political faith of a somewhat slippery adherent by skilfully avoiding any reference to politics. But the scope of this history sternly vetoing indiscriminate eavesdropping, the historian must reluctantly leave in the silence which sooner or later overtook them these, and many other ardent talkers who have long since crumbled into dust :-is not Kewbridge House too, with all its glories, a dream of the past; its heartburnings and its airy badinage, its galaxies of beauty and wit, Its very dulnesses alike sanctified by the glamour of intervening centuries? "At last I pay my homage to the goddess of the cause, nay, burn incense at her shrine of which I am the priest," laughingly said Lord Bardolph to Lady Gwendolen, looking at her however with an earnestness that belied the lightness of his tone. "The goddess accepts your homage," she answered with a winning smile; "but have the goodness to refrain from burning the incense of flattery. Priests are too much addicted to that sort of thing; and the dwellers on Olympus are weary of hearing their praises sung by mortals. Gods and goddesses, you know, may not be too clever, but they possess more intelligence than most of their worshippers appear to credit them with." "The incense I burn is that of truth," replied Lord Bardolph in a mock heroic tone. "Then be careful lest its novelty prove too much for my unaccustomed nerves," said Lady Gwendolen. "But let us descend from the empyrean, and tread the earth. Is it true that you intend to resign?" 66 66 It is," he replied, lowering his tone confidentially. "Why?" Ministers 66 Surely you know," he said, with tender reproach. of different creeds never pull together well, especially when one of them has just been converted to the faith he professes. So unless I can make a proselyte of my fellow minister "But will he remain firm? He is so very vacillating," she said musingly; and a shade of sadness came over her face, but whether in sorrow for the Premier's vacillation or in fear lest he should prove firm, it would be difficult to determine. Probably both emotions swayed her equally at the moment. Emotions have a logic of their own, and Lady Gwendolen had never paused to analyse her own wishes; never thoroughly realised their inconsistency and never mentally faced the situation in the event either of his yield. ing or of his remaining firm. "I think he will," replied Lord Bardolph, endeavouring to answer indifferently; and yet unable to prevent a note of triumph becoming audible to the keen ears of his companion. "It was not without difficulty that I-that is to say, we-induced him to decide for a Reform Bill at all. His mind kept the pros and cons of it dancing up and down, like a juggler with balls. The pros had it at last. The pros of woman suffrage, however, have not been so fortunate. I have tried to convince him of its necessity, but in vain. But I do not wonder that I should have failed, when possibly--", and he stopped, as though afraid to venture to put his thought into words. She knew what he was about to say, as well as if he had finished the sentence. A slight blush tinged her cheek, and then left her pale, as she unconcernedly said: When possibly "You, the high priestess of the cause had failed," he said, lowering his gaze, and yet never losing sight of her face for a moment. He had a purpose in every word he uttered; and marksman never scanned target more eagerly, than he did her counte nance. If he expected her to betray any trace of disappointment or annoyance, his expectation was not gratified. She laughed gaily as she replied: "But a few short minutes ago I was a goddess, now I am but a priestess. How are the mighty fallen!" Then, with just the slightest suspicion of malice in her tones, she added: "Not every one is so readily converted as yourself. But have you fully weighed all the consequences of your action in retiring from the Ministry?" "I have espoused the extension of the franchise to women too strongly to admit of my remaining a member of a Cabinet which will not introduce it into the Reform Bill. My honour is at stake. It may be that I am ruining my hopes of a political career by my devotion to you to your cause. But I have put my hand to the plough and I cannot, in honour, draw back." "Your sentiments and your conduct alike do you credit,” said she, with a mocking inflection that took some of the charm from the compliment. But it is not improbable that your pessimistic anticipations may never be realised. You may perhaps find, if you will pardon the perversion of the Laureate's words "That politicians rise on stepping stones "That poor Laureate! I often wonder whether his lines are so frequently perverted because he is popular; or whether he is popular because his lines lend themselves so readily to perversion. I incline to the latter view myself," said Lord Bardolph, with simulated gaiety. Then changing his tones he said seriously: "I know you approve my action; why then so harshly misjudge my motive? You know how I value your good opinion; you know——” 66 Really you misunderstand me," replied Lady Gwendolen, evidently anxious to prevent the conversation taking the turn Lord Bardolph seemed eager to give it. "I do not misjudge your motives. On the contrary, I wished to give you some encouragement by reminding you of the possibility that your virtue might not be so unfortunate as to be its own reward." 66 voice. Enfin je te trouve," joyfully exclaimed a shrill, feminine "I am sorry you have had any trouble, Madame Drapeaurouge," responded Lady Gwendolen, beaming gracious welcome on a weazened, scraggy personage. "The rooms are certainly more crowded than I remember them for a long time." "Oui. All the world expects Monsieur Floppington, n'est ce pas? Do you believe that he will arrive ?" "I really don't know," murmured Gwendolen, blushing, her heart beating a trifle more rapidly at the suggested prospect. "He'd do better to stick to his St. Augustine," thought Lord |