cannot understand it,” continued George, speaking without looking at her. “It was but the other day that we were such dear friends! Do you remember the balcony at Basle? and now it seems that we are quite estranged;—nay, worse than estranged; that I am, as it were, under some ban. Have I done anything to offend you, Alice? If so, speak out, like a woman of spirit as you are.”
“Nothing,” said Alice.
“Then why am I tabooed? Why was I told the other day that I might not congratulate you on your happy emancipation? I say boldly, that had you resolved on that while we were together in Switzerland, you would have permitted me, as a friend, almost as a brother, to discuss it with you.”
“I think not, George.”
“I am sure you would. And why has Kate been warned not to tell me of this visit to the Pallisers? I know she has been warned though she has not confessed it.”
Alice sat silent, not knowing what to say in answer to this charge brought against her,—thinking, perhaps, that the questioner would allow his question to pass without an answer. But Vavasor was not so complaisant. “If there be any reason, Alice, I think that I have a right to ask it.”
For a few seconds she did not speak a word, but sat considering. He also remained silent with his eyes fixed upon her. She looked at him and saw nothing but his scar,—nothing but his scar and the brightness of his eyes, which was almost fierce. She knew that he was in earnest, and therefore resolved that she would be in earnest also. “I think that you have such a right,” she said at last.
“Then let me exercise it.”
“I think that you have such a right, but I think also that you are ungenerous to exercise it.”
“I cannot understand that. By heavens, Alice, I cannot be left in this suspense! If I have done anything to offend you, perhaps I can remove the offence by apology.”
“You have done nothing to offend me.”
“Or if there be any cause why our friendship should be dropped,—why we should be on a different footing to each other in London than we were in Switzerland, I may acknowledge it, if it be explained to me. But I cannot put up with the doubt, when I am told that I have a right to demand its solution.”
“Then I will be frank with you, George, though my being so will, as you may guess, be very painful.” She paused again, looking at him to see if yet he would spare her; but he was all scar and eyes as before, and there was no mercy in his face.
“Your sister, George, has thought that my parting with Mr Grey might lead to a renewal of a purpose of marriage between you and me. You know her eagerness, and will understand that it may have been necessary that I should require silence from her on that head. You ought now to understand it all.”
“I then am being punished for her sins,” he said; and suddenly the scar on his face was healed up again, and there was something of the old pleasantness in his eyes.
“I have said nothing about any sins, George, but I have found it necessary to be on my guard.”
“Well,” he said, after a short pause, “You are an honest woman, Alice,—the honestest I ever knew. I will bring Kate to order,—and, now, we may be friends again; may we not?” And he extended his hand to her across the table.
“Yes,” she said, “certainly, if you wish it.” She spoke doubtingly, with indecision in her voice, as though remembering at the moment that he had given her no pledge. “I certainly do wish it very much,” said he; and then she gave him her hand.
“And I may now talk about your new freedom?”
“No,” said she; “no. Do not speak of that. A woman does not do what I have done in that affair without great suffering. I have to think of it daily; but do not make me speak of it.”
“But this other subject, this visit to Matching; surely I may speak of that?” There was something now in his voice so bright, that she felt the influence of it, and answered him cheerfully, “I don’t see what you can have to say about it.”
“But I have a great deal. I am so glad you are going. Mind you cement a close intimacy with Mr Palliser.”
“With Mr Palliser?”
“Yes; with Mr Palliser. You must read all the blue books about finance. I’ll send them to you if you like it.”
“Oh, George!”
“I’m quite in earnest. That is, not in earnest about the blue books, as you would not have time; but about Mr Palliser. He will be the new Chancellor of the Exchequer without a doubt.”
“Will he indeed? But why should I make a bosom friend of the Chancellor of the Exchequer. I don’t want any public money.”
“But I do, my girl. Don’t you see?”
“No; I don’t.”
“I think I shall get returned at this next election.”
“I’m sure I hope you will.”
“And if I do, of course it will be my game to support the ministry;—or rather the new ministry; for of course there will be changes.”
“I hope they will be on the right side.”
“Not a doubt of that, Alice.”
“I wish they might be changed altogether.”
“Ah! that’s impossible. It’s very well as a dream; but there are no such men as you want to see,—men really from the people,—strong enough to take high office. A man can’t drive four horses because he’s a philanthropist,—or rather a philhorseophist, and is desirous that the team should be driven without any hurt to them. A man can’t govern well, simply because he is genuinely anxious that men should be well governed.”
“And will there never be any such men?”
“I won’t say that. I don’t mind confessing to you that it is my ambition to be such a one myself. But a child must crawl before he can walk. Such a one as I, hoping to do something in politics, must spare no chance. It would be something to me that Mr Palliser should become the friend of any dear friend of mine,—especially of a dear friend bearing the same name.”
“I’m afraid, George, you’ll find me a bad hand at making any such friendship.”
“They say he is led immensely by his wife, and that she is very clever. But I mean this chiefly, Alice, that I do hope I shall have all your sympathy in any political career that I may make, and all your assistance also.”
“My sympathy I think I can promise you. My assistance, I fear, would be worthless.”
“By no means worthless, Alice; not if I see you take that place in the world which I hope to see you fill. Do you think women nowadays have no bearing upon the politics of the times? Almost as much as men have.” In answer to which Alice shook her head; but, nevertheless, she felt in some way pleased and flattered.
George left
