How do you like Eton?
This contrast to the reception which he had imagined, hoped, feared, paralysed the reviving energies of young Coningsby. He felt stupefied; he looked almost aghast. In the chaotic tumult of his mind, his memory suddenly seemed to receive some miraculous inspiration. Mysterious phrases heard in his earliest boyhood, unnoticed then, long since forgotten, rose to his ear. Who was this grandfather, seen not before, seen now for the first time? Where was the intervening link of blood between him and this superb and icy being? The boy sank into the chair which had been placed for him, and leaning on the table burst into tears.
Here was a business! If there were one thing which would have made Lord Monmouth travel from London to Naples at four-and-twenty hours notice, it was to avoid a scene. He hated scenes. He hated feelings. He saw instantly the mistake he had made in sending for his grandchild. He was afraid that Coningsby was tender-hearted like his father. Another tender-hearted Coningsby! Unfortunate family! Degenerate race! He decided in his mind that Coningsby must be provided for in the Church, and looked at Mr. Rigby, whose principal business it always was to disembarrass his patron from the disagreeable.
Mr. Rigby instantly came forward and adroitly led the boy into the adjoining apartment, Lord Monmouths bedchamber, closing the door of the dressing-room behind him.
My dear young friend, said Mr. Rigby, what is all this?
A sob the only answer.
What can be the matter? said Mr. Rigby.
I was thinking, said Coningsby, of poor mamma!
Hush! said Mr. Rigby; Lord Monmouth never likes to hear of people who are dead; so you must take care never to mention your mother or your father.
In the meantime Lord Monmouth had decided on the fate of Coningsby. The Marquis thought he could read characters by a glance, and in general he was successful, for his natural sagacity had been nurtured by great experience. His grandson was not to his taste; amiable no doubt, but spooney.
We are too apt to believe that the character of a boy is easily read. Tis a mystery the most profound. Mark what blunders parents constantly make as to the nature of their own offspring, bred, too, under their eyes, and displaying every hour their characteristics. How often in the nursery does the genius count as a dunce because he is pensive; while a rattling urchin is invested with almost supernatural qualities because his animal spirits make him impudent and flippant! The school-boy, above all others, is not the simple being the world imagines. In that young bosom are often stirring passions as strong as our own, desires not less violent, a volition not less supreme. In that young bosom what burning love, what intense ambition, what avarice, what lust of power; envy that fiends might emulate, hate that man might fear!
CHAPTER IV
Come, said Mr. Rigby, when Coningsby was somewhat composed, come with me and we will see the house.
So they descended once more the private staircase, and again entered the vestibule.
If you had seen these gardens when they were illuminated for a fête to George IV., said Rigby, as crossing the chamber he ushered his charge into the state apartments. The splendour and variety of the surrounding objects soon distracted the attention of the boy, for the first time in the palace of his fathers. He traversed saloon after saloon hung with rare tapestry and the gorgeous products of foreign looms; filled with choice pictures and creations of curious art; cabinets that sovereigns might envy, and colossal vases of malachite presented by emperors. Coningsby alternately gazed up to ceilings glowing with color and with gold, and down upon carpets bright with the fancies and vivid with the tints of Aubusson and of Axminster.
This grandfather of mine is a great prince, thought Coningsby, as musing he stood before a portrait in which he recognised the features of the being from whom he had so recently and so strangely parted. There he stood, Philip Augustus, Marquess of Monmouth, in his robes of state, with his new coronet on a table near him, a despatch lying at hand that indicated the special mission of high ceremony of which he had been the illustrious envoy, and the garter beneath his knee.
You will have plenty of opportunities to look at the pictures, said Rigby, observing that the boy had now quite recovered himself. Some luncheon will do you no harm after our drive; and he opened the door of another apartment.
You will have plenty of opportunities to look at the pictures, said Rigby, observing that the boy had now quite recovered himself. Some luncheon will do you no harm after our drive; and he opened the door of another apartment.
It was a pretty room adorned with a fine picture of the chase; at a round table in the centre sat two ladies interested in the meal to which Rigby had alluded.
Ah, Mr. Rigby! said the eldest, yet young and beautiful, and speaking, though with fluency, in a foreign accent, come and tell me some news. Have you seen Milor? and then she threw a scrutinizing glance from a dark flashing eye at his companion.