Henrietta Temple by Benjamin Disraeli (read 50 shades of grey TXT) 📕

I will not trouble you,' said Ferdinand; 'get me that note changed.'

'Yes, sir,' replied the little waiter, bowing very low as he disappeared.

'Gentleman in best drawing-room wants breakfast. Gentleman in best drawing-room wants change for a ten-pound note. Breakfast immediately for gentleman in best drawing-room. Tea, coffee, toast, ham, tongue, and a devil. A regular nob!'

Ferdinand was so exhausted that he had postponed all deliberation as to his situation until he had breakfasted; and when he had breakfasted, he felt dull. It is the consequence of all meals. In whatever light he viewed his affairs, they seemed inextricable. He was now in a spunging-house; he could not long remain here, he must be soon in a gaol. A gaol! What a bitter termination of all his great plans and hopes! What a situation for one who had been betrothed to Henrietta Temple! He thought of his cousin, he thought of her great fortune, which might have been his. Perhaps at this moment they were all riding together in the Park. In a few days all must be known to his father. He did not doubt of the result. Armine would immediately be sold, and his father and mother, with the wretched wreck of their fortune, would retire to the Continent. What a sad vicissitude! And he had done it all; he, their only child, their only hope, on whose image they had lived, who was to restore the house. He looked at the bars of his windows, it was a dreadful sight. His poor father, his fond mother, he was quite sure their hearts would break. They never could survive all this misery, this bitter disappointment of all their chopes. Little less than a year ago and he was at Bath, and they were all joy and triumph. What a wild scene had his life been since! O Henrietta! why did we ever meet? That fatal, fatal morning! The cedar tree rose before him, he recalled, he remembered everything. And poor Glastonbury--it was a miserable end. He could not disguise it from himself, he had been most imprudent, he had been mad. And yet so near happiness, perfect, perfect happiness! Henrietta might have been his, and they might have been so happy! This confinement was dreadful; it began to press upon his nerves. No occupation, not the slightest resource. He took up the Racing Calendar, he threw it down again. He knew all the caricatures by heart, they infinitely disgusted him. He walked up and down the room till he was so tired that he flung himself upon the hard sofa. It was intolerable.

A gaol must be preferable to this. There must be some kind of wretched amusement in a gaol; but this ignoble, this humiliating solitude, he was confident he should go mad if he remained here. He rang the bell again.

'Yes, sir,' said the little waiter.

'This place is intolerable to me,' said Captain Armine. 'I really am quite sick of it. What can I do?'

The waiter looked a little perplexed.

'I should like to go to gaol at once,' said Ferdinand.

'Lord! sir!' said the little waiter.

'Yes! I cannot bear this,' he continued; 'I shall go mad.'

'Don't you think your friends will call soon, sir?'

'I have no friends,' said Ferdinand. 'I hope nobody will call.'

'No friends!' said the little waiter, who began to think Ferdinand was not such a nob as he had imagined. 'Why, if you have no friends, sir, it would be best to go to the Fleet, I think.'

'By Jove, I think it would be better.'

'Master thinks your friends will call, I am sure.'

'Nobody knows I am here,' said Ferdinand.

'Oh!' said the little waiter, 'You want to let them know, do you, sir?'

'Anything sooner; I wish to conceal my disgrace.'

'O sir! you are not used to it; I dare say you never were nabbed before?'

'Certainly not.'

'There it is; if you will be patient, you will see everything go well.'

'Never, my good fellow; nothing can go well.'

'O sir! you are not used to it. A regular nob like you, nabbed for the first time, and for such a long figure, sir, sure not to be diddled. Never knowed such a thing yet. Friends sure to stump down, sir.'

'The greater the claim, the more difficulty in satisfying it, I should think,' said Ferdinand.

'Lord! no, sir: you are not used to it. It is only poor devils nabbed for their fifties and hundreds that are ever done up. A nob was never nabbed for the sum you are, sir, and ever went to the wall. Trust my experience. I never knowed such a thing.'

Ferdinand could scarcely refrain from a smile. Even the conversation of the little waiter was a relief to him.

'You see, sir,' continued that worthy, 'Morris and Levison would never have given you such a deuce of a tick unless they knowed your resources. Trust Morris and Levison for that. You done up, sir! a nob like you, that Morris and Levison have trusted for such a tick! Lord! sir, you don't know nothing about it. I could afford to give them fifteen shillings in the pound for their debt myself and a good day's business, too. Friends will stump down, sir, trust me.'

'Well, it is some satisfaction for me to know that they will not, and that Morris and Levison will not get a farthing.'

'Well, sir,' said the incredulous little functionary, 'when I find Morris and Levison lose two or three thousand pounds by a nob who is nabbed for the first time, I will pay the money myself, that is all I know.'

Here the waiter was obliged to leave Ferdinand, but he proved his confidence in that gentleman's fortunes by his continual civility, and in the course of the day brought him a stale newspaper. It seemed to Ferdinand that the day would never close. The waiter pestered him about dinner, eulogising the cook, and assuring him that his master was famous for champagne. Although he had no appetite, Ferdinand ordered dinner in order to ensure the occurrence of one incident. The champagne made him drowsy; he was shown to his room; and for a while he forgot his cares in sleep.


CHAPTER XIX.


_The Crisis Rapidly Advances_.


HENRIETTA TEMPLE began once more to droop. This change was not unnoticed by her constant companion Lord Montfort, and yet he never permitted her to be aware of his observation. All that he did was still more to study her amusement; if possible, to be still more considerate and tender. Miss Grandison, however, was far less delicate; she omitted no opportunity of letting Miss Temple know that she thought that Henrietta was very unwell, and that she was quite convinced Henrietta was thinking of Ferdinand. Nay! she was not satisfied to confine these intimations to Miss Temple; she impressed her conviction of Henrietta's indisposition on Lord Montfort, and teased him with asking his opinion of the cause.

'What do you think is the cause, Miss Grandison?' said his lordship, very quietly.

'Perhaps London does not agree with her; but then, when she was ill before she was in the country; and it seems to me to be the same illness. I wonder you do not notice it, Lord Montfort. A lover to be so insensible, I am surprised!'

'It is useless to notice that which you cannot remedy.'

'Why do you not call in those who can offer remedies?' said Miss Grandison. 'Why not send for Sir Henry?'

'I think it best to leave Henrietta alone,' said Lord Montfort.

'Do you think it is the mind, then?' said Miss Grandison.

'It may be,' said Lord Montford.

'It may be! Upon my word, you are very easy.'

'I am not indifferent, Miss Grandison. There is nothing that I would not do for Henrietta's welfare.'

'Oh! yes, there is; there is something,' said Miss Grandison, rather maliciously.

'You are really an extraordinary person, Miss Grandison,' said Lord Montfort. 'What can you mean by so strange an observation?'

'I have my meaning; but I suppose I may have a mystery as well as anybody else.'

'A mystery, Miss Grandison?'

'Yes! a mystery, Lord Montfort. There is not a single individual in the three families who has not a mystery, except myself; but I have found out something. I feel quite easy now: we are all upon an equality.'

'You are a strange person.'

'It may be so; but I am happy, for I have nothing on my mind. Now that poor Ferdinand has told Sir Ratcliffe we are not going to marry, I have no part to play. I hate deception; it is almost as bitter as marrying one who is in love with another person.'

'That must indeed be bitter. And is that the reason that you do not marry your cousin?' enquired Lord Montfort.

'I may be in love with another person, or I may not,' said Miss Grandison. 'But, however that may be, the moment Ferdinand very candidly told me he was, we decided not to marry. I think we were wise; do not you. Lord Montfort?'

'If you are happy, you were wise,' said Lord Montfort.

'Yes, I am pretty happy: as happy as I can well be when all my best friends are miserable.'

'Are they?'

'I think so: my aunt is in tears; my uncle in despair; Ferdinand meditates suicide; Henrietta is pining away; and you, who are the philosopher of the society, you look rather grave. I fancy I think we are a most miserable set.'

'I wish we could be all happy,' said Lord Montfort.

'And so we might, I think,' said Miss Grandison; 'at least, some of us.'

'Make us, then,' said Lord Montfort.

'I cannot make you.'

'I think you could, Miss Grandison.'

At this moment Henrietta entered, and the conversation assumed a different turn.

'Will you go with us to Lady Bellair's, Kate?' said Miss Temple. 'The duchess has asked me to call there this morning.'

Miss Grandison expressed her willingness: the carriage was waiting, and Lord Montfort offered to attend them. At this moment the servant entered with a note for Miss Grandison.

'From Glastonbury,' she said; 'dear Henrietta, he wishes to see me immediately. What can it be? Go to Lady Bellair's, and call for me on your return. You must, indeed; and then we can all go out together.'

And so it was arranged. Miss Temple, accompanied by Lord Montfort, proceeded to Bellair House.

'Don't come near me,' said the old lady when she saw them; 'don't come near me; I am in despair; I do not know what I shall do; I think I shall sell all my china. Do you know anybody who wants to buy old china? They shall have it a bargain. But I must have ready money; ready money I must have. Do not sit down in that chair; it is only made to look at. Oh! if I were rich, like you! I wonder if my china is worth three hundred pounds. I could cry my eyes out, that I could. The wicked men; I should like to tear them to pieces. Why is not he in Parliament? and then they could not take him up. They never could arrest Charles Fox. I have known him in as much trouble as anyone. Once he sent all his furniture to my house from his lodgings. He lodged in Bury-street. I always