Endymion | Page 9

honourable
names besides the one which indicates the state to which he was born.
But, on all these points, we want your advice." And she seemed to
appeal to her son, who bowed his head with a slight smile, but did not
speak.
Mr. Wilton expressed his deep interest in her wishes, and promised to
consider how they might best be accomplished, and then the
conversation took a more general tone.
"This change of government in your country," said the lady, "so
unexpected, so utterly unforeseen, disturbs me; in fact, it decided my
hesitating movements. I cannot but believe that the accession of the
Duke of Wellington to power must be bad, at least, for us. It is
essentially reactionary. They are triumphing at Vienna."
"Have they cause?" said Mr. Wilton. "I am an impartial witness, for I
have no post in the new administration; but the leading colleagues of
Mr. Canning form part of it, and the conduct of foreign affairs remains
in the same hands."
"That is consoling," said the lady. "I wonder if Lord Dudley would see
me. Perhaps not. Ministers do not love pretenders. I knew him when I
was not a pretender," added the lady, with the sweetest of smiles, "and
thought him agreeable. He was witty. Ah! Sidney, those were happy
days. I look back to the past with regret, but without remorse. One
might have done more good, but one did some;" and she sighed.
"You seemed to me," said Sidney with emotion, "to diffuse benefit and
blessings among all around you."
"And I read," said the lady, a little indignant, "in some memoirs the
other day, that our court was a corrupt and dissolute court. It was a
court of pleasure, if you like; but of pleasure that animated and refined,
and put the world in good humour, which, after all, is good government.
The most corrupt and dissolute courts on the continent of Europe that I
have known," said the lady, "have been outwardly the dullest and most
decorous."

"My memory of those days," said Mr. Wilton, "is of ceaseless grace
and inexhaustible charm."
"Well," said the lady, "if I sinned I have at least suffered. And I hope
they were only sins of omission. I wanted to see everybody happy, and
tried to make them so. But let us talk no more of ourselves. The
unfortunate are always egotistical. Tell me something of Mr. Wilton;
and, above all, tell me why you are not in the new government."
"I have not been invited," said Mr. Wilton. "There are more claimants
than can be satisfied, and my claims are not very strong. It is scarcely a
disappointment to me. I shall continue in public life; but, so far as
political responsibility is concerned, I would rather wait. I have some
fancies on that head, but I will not trouble you with them. My time,
therefore, is at my command; and so," he added smilingly, "I can attend
to the education of Prince Florestan."
"Do you hear that, Florestan?" said the lady to her son; "I told you we
had a friend. Thank Mr. Wilton."
And the young Prince bowed as before, but with a more serious
expression. He, however, said nothing.
"I see you have not forgotten your most delightful pursuit," said Mr.
Wilton, and he looked towards the musical instruments.
"No," said the lady; "throned or discrowned, music has ever been the
charm or consolation of my life."
"Pleasure should follow business," said Mr. Wilton, "and we have
transacted ours. Would it be too bold if I asked again to hear those
tones which have so often enchanted me?"
"My voice has not fallen off," said the lady, "for you know it was never
first-rate. But they were kind enough to say it had some expression,
probably because I generally sang my own words to my own music. I
will sing you my farewell to Florestan," she added gaily, and took up
her guitar, and then in tones of melancholy sweetness, breaking at last

into a gushing burst of long-controlled affection, she expressed the
agony and devotion of a mother's heart. Mr. Wilton was a little agitated;
her son left the room. The mother turned round with a smiling face, and
said, "The darling cannot bear to hear it, but I sing it on purpose, to
prepare him for the inevitable."
"He is soft-hearted," said Mr. Wilton.
"He is the most affectionate of beings," replied the mother.
"Affectionate and mysterious. I can say no more. I ought to tell you his
character. I cannot. You may say he may have none. I do not know. He
has abilities, for he acquires knowledge with facility, and knows a great
deal for a boy. But he never gives an opinion. He is silent and