The Young Duke

by Earl of Beaconsfield Benjamin Disraeli

  CHAPTER III.

  _The Duke Apologises_

  AS SIR LUCIUS hurried off his colleague advanced towards the upper endof the room, and, taking up a position, made his observations, throughthe shooting figures of the dancers, on the dreaded Mr. Dacre. The lateguardian of the Duke of St. James was in the perfection of manhood;perhaps five-and-forty by age; but his youth had lingered long. Hewas tall, thin, and elegant, with a mild and benevolent expression ofcountenance, not unmixed, however, with a little reserve, the ghost ofyouthly pride. Listening with polished and courtly bearing to the prettyMrs. Dallington Vere, assenting occasionally to her piquant observationsby a slight bow, or expressing his dissent by a still slighter smile,seldom himself speaking, yet always with that unembarrassed manner whichmakes a saying listened to, Mr. Dacre was altogether, in appearance, oneof the most distinguished personages in this distinguished assembly. Theyoung Duke fell into an attitude worthy of Hamlet: 'This, then, is _old_Dacre! O deceitful Fitz-pompey! O silly St. James! Could I ever forgetthat tall, mild man, who now is perfectly fresh in my memory? Ah! thatmemory of mine; it has been greatly developed to-night. Would that I hadcultivated that faculty with a little more zeal! But what am I to do?The case is urgent. What must the Dacres think of me? What must MayDacre think? On the course the whole day, and I the steward, and notconscious of the presence of the first family in the Riding! Fool, fool!Why, why did I accept an office for which I was totally unfitted? Why,why must I flirt away a whole morning with that silly Sophy Wrekin? Anagreeable predicament, truly, this! What would I give now once more tobe in St. James's Street! Confound my Yorkshire estates! How theymust dislike, how they must despise me! And now, truly, I am to be_introduced_ to him! The Duke of St. James, Mr. Dacre! Mr. Dacre,the Duke of St. James! What an insult to all parties! How supremelyludicrous! What a mode of offering my gratitude to the man to whom Iam under solemn and inconceivable obligations! A choice way, truly, tosalute the bosom-friend of my sire, the guardian of my interests, thecreator of my property, the fosterer of my orphan infancy! It isuseless to conceal it; I am placed in the most disagreeable, the mostinextricable situation. 'Inextricable! Am I, then, the Duke of St.James? Am I that being who, two hours ago, thought that the world wasformed alone for my enjoyment, and I quiver and shrink here like acommon hind? Out, out on such craven cowardice! I am no Hauteville! Iam bastard! Never! I will not be crushed. I will struggle with thisemergency; I will conquer it. Now aid me, ye heroes of my house! Onthe sands of Palestine, on the plains of France, ye were not in a moredifficult situation than is your descendant in a ball-room in his owncounty. My mind elevates itself to the occasion, my courage expands withthe enterprise; I will right myself with these Dacres with honour, andwithout humiliation.'

  The dancing ceased, the dancers disappeared. There was a blank betweenthe Duke of St. James on one side of the broad room, and Mr. Dacre andthose with whom he was conversing on the other. Many eyes were on hisGrace, and he seized the opportunity to execute his purpose. He advancedacross the chamber with the air of a young monarch greeting a victoriousgeneral. It seemed that, for a moment, his Majesty wished to destroyall difference of rank between himself and the man that he honoured. Sostudied and so inexpressibly graceful were his movements that thegaze of all around involuntarily fixed upon him. Mrs. Dallington Vereunconsciously refrained from speaking as he approached; and one or two,without actually knowing his purpose, made way. They seemed awed by hisdignity, and shuffled behind Mr. Dacre, as if he were the only personwho was the Duke's match.

  'Mr. Dacre,' said his Grace, in the softest but still audible tones, andhe extended, at the same time, his hand; 'Mr. Dacre, our first meetingshould have been neither here nor thus; but you, who have excused somuch, will pardon also this!'

  Mr. Dacre, though a calm personage, was surprised by this suddenaddress. He could not doubt who was the speaker. He had left his warda mere child. He saw before him the exact and breathing image of theheart-friend of his ancient days. He forgot all but the memory of acherished friendship.

  He was greatly affected; he pressed the offered hand; he advanced; hemoved aside. The young Duke followed up his advantage, and, with an airof the greatest affection, placed Mr. Dacre's arm in his own, and thenbore off his prize in triumph.

  Right skilfully did our hero avail himself of his advantage. He spoke,and he spoke with emotion. There is something inexpressibly captivatingin the contrition of a youthful and a generous mind. Mr. Dacre and hislate ward soon understood each other; for it was one of those meetingswhich sentiment makes sweet.

  'And now,' said his Grace, 'I have one more favour to ask, and that isthe greatest: I wish to be recalled to the recollection of my oldestfriend.'

  Mr. Dacre led the Duke to his daughter; and the Earl of St. Jerome, whowas still laughing at her side, rose.

  'The Duke of St. James, May, wishes to renew his acquaintance with you.'

  She bowed in silence. Lord St. Jerome, who was the great oracle of theYorkshire School, and who had betted desperately against the favourite,took Mr. Dacre aside to consult him about the rain, and the Duke ofSt. James dropped into his chair. That tongue, however, which had neverfailed him, for once was wanting. There was a momentary silence, whichthe lady would not break; and at last her companion broke it, and notfelicitously.

  'I think there is nothing more delightful than meeting with oldfriends.'

  'Yes! that is the usual sentiment; but I half suspect that it isa commonplace, invented to cover our embarrassment under suchcircumstances; for, after all, "an old friend" so situated is a personwhom we have not seen for many years, and most probably not cared tosee.'

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  'You are indeed severe.'

  'Oh! no. I think there is nothing more painful than parting with oldfriends; but when we have parted with them, I am half afraid they arelost.'

  'Absence, then, with you is fatal?'

  'Really, I never did part with any one I greatly loved; but I suppose itis with me as with most persons.'

  'Yet you have resided abroad, and for many years?'

  'Yes; but I was too young then to have many friends; and, in fact, Iaccompanied perhaps all that I possessed.'

  'How I regret that it was not in my power to accept your kind invitationto Dacre in the Spring!'

  'Oh! My father would have been very glad to see you; but we really aredull kind of people, not at all in your way, and I really do not thinkthat you lost much amusement.'

  'What better amusement, what more interesting occupation, could I havehad than to visit the place where I passed my earliest and my happiesthours? 'Tis nearly fifteen years since I was at Dacre.'

  'Except when you visited us at Easter. We regretted our loss.'

  'Ah! yes! except that,' exclaimed the Duke, remembering his jaeger'scall; 'but that goes for nothing. I of course saw very little.'

  'Yet, I assure you, you made a great impression. So eminent a personage,of course, observes less than he himself is observed. We had a graphicaldescription of you on our return, and a very accurate one, too; for Irecognised your Grace to-night merely from the report of your visit.'

  The Duke shot a shrewd glance at his companion's face, but it betrayedno indication of badinage, and so, rather puzzled, he thought it best toput up with the parallel between himself and his servant. But Miss Dacredid not quit this agreeable subject with all that promptitude which hefondly anticipated.

  'Poor Lord St. Jerome,' said she, 'who is really the most unaffectedperson I know, has been complaining most bitterly of his deficiency inthe _air noble_. He is mistaken for a groom perpetually; and once, hesays, had a _douceur_ presented to him in his character of an ostler.Your Grace must be proud of your advantage over him. You would have beengratified by the universal panegyric of our household. They, of course,you know, are proud of their young Duke, a real Yorkshire Duke, and theylove to dwell upon your truly imposing appearance. As for myself, whoam true Yorkshire also, I take the most honest pride in hearing themdescribe
your elegant attitude, leaning back in your britzska, with yourfeet on the opposite cushions, your hat arranged aside with that air ofundefinable grace characteristic of the Grand Seigneur, and, which isthe last remnant of the feudal system, your reiterated orders to driveover an old woman. You did not even condescend to speak English, whichmade them quite enthusiastic--'

  'Oh, Miss Dacre, spare me!'

  'Spare you! I have heard of your Grace's modesty; but this excessivesensibility, under well-earned praise, surprises me!'

  'But, Miss Dacre, you cannot indeed really believe that this vulgarruffian, this grim scarecrow, this Guy Faux, was--was--myself.'

  'Not yourself! Really, I am a simple personage. I believe in my eyes andtrust to my ears. I am at a loss for your meaning.'

  'I mean, then,' said the Duke, who had gained time to rally, 'that thismonster was some impostor, who must have stolen my carriage, picked mypocket, and robbed me of my card, which, next to his reputation, is aman's most delicate possession.'

  'Then you never called upon us?'

  'I blush to confess it, never; but I will call, in future, every day.'

  'Your ingenuousness really rivals your modesty.'

  'Now, after these confessions and compliments, may I suggest a waltz?'

  'No one is waltzing now.'

  'When the quadrille, then, is finished?'

  'Then I am engaged.'

  'After your engagement?'

  'That is indeed making a business of pleasure. I have just refuseda similar request of your fellow-steward. We damsels shall soon beobliged to carry a book to enrol our engagements as well as our bets, ifthis system of reversionary dancing be any longer encouraged.'

  'But you must dance with me!' said the Duke, imploringly.

  'Oh! you will stumble upon me in the course of the evening, and I shallprobably be more fortunate.

  I suppose you feel nervous about to-morrow?'

  'Not at all.'

  'Ah! I forgot. Your Grace's horse is the favourite. Favourites alwayswin.'

  'Have I a horse?'

  'Why, Lord St. Jerome says he doubts whether it be one.'

  'Lord St. Jerome seems a vastly amusing personage; and, as he is sooften taken for an ostler, I have no doubt is an exceedingly good judgeof horse-flesh.'

  Miss Dacre smiled. It was that wild, but rather wicked, gleam whichsometimes accompanies the indulgence of innocent malice. It seemed toinsinuate, 'I know you are piqued, and I enjoy it' But here her hand wasclaimed for the waltz.

  The young Duke remained musing.

  'There she swims away! By heavens! unrivalled! And there is Lady Afyand Burlington; grand, too. Yet there is something in this little Dacrewhich touches my fancy more. What is it? I think it is her impudence.That confounded scrape of Carlstein! I will cashier him to-morrow.Confound his airs! I think I got out of it pretty well. To-night, onthe whole, has been a night of triumph; but if I do not waltz with thelittle Dacre I will only vote myself an ovation. But see, here comes SirLucius. Well! how fares my brother consul?'

  'I do not like this rain. I have been hedging with Hounslow, havingpreviously set Bag at his worthy sire with a little information. Weshall have a perfect swamp, and then it will be strength against speed;the old story. Damn the St. Leger. I am sick of it.'

  'Pooh! pooh! think of the little Dacre!'

  'Think of her, my dear fellow! I think of her too much. I shouldabsolutely have diddled Hounslow, if it had not been for her confoundedpretty face flitting about my stupid brain. I saw you speaking toGuardy. You managed that business well.'

  'Why, as I do all things, I flatter myself, Lucy. Do you know Lord St.Jerome?'

  'Verbally. We have exchanged monosyllables; but he is of the other set.'

  'He is cursedly familiar with the little Dacre. As the friend of herfather, I think I shall interfere. Is there anything in it, think you?'

  'Oh! no; she is engaged to another.'

  'Engaged!' said the Duke, absolutely turning pale.

  'Do you remember a Dacre at Eton?'

  'A Dacre at Eton!' mused the Duke. At another time it would not havebeen in his power to have recalled the stranger to his memory; but thisevening the train of association had been laid, and after struggling amoment with his mind he had the man. 'To be sure I do: Arundel Dacre, anodd sort of a fellow; but he was my senior.'

  'Well, that is the man; a nephew of Guardy, and cousin, of course, to LaBellissima. He inherits, you know, all the property. She will not havea sou; but old Dacre, as you call him, has managed pretty well, andMonsieur Arundel is to compensate for the entail by presenting him witha grandson.'

  'The deuce!'

  'The deuce, indeed! Often have I broken his head. Would that I had to alittle more purpose!'

  'Let us do it now!'

  'He is not here, otherwise----One dislikes a spooney to be successful.'

  'Where are our friends?'

  'Annesley with the Duchess, and Squib with the Duke at ecarte.'

  'Success attend them both!'

  'Amen!'