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Updated: June 7, 2025
"Have you been to Prince d'Alchingen's, or has he approached you in any way?" "I am to dine with him to-morrow." "Has he said anything to you about the Marquis of Castrillon?" "Not a word," replied Robert, in surprise: "why should he?" "I believe there is mischief in the air. Be careful, won't you? Reckage is watching us. I think he would like some music. He is so triste this evening."
The prospect of an interview with him seemed so disagreeable that she walked first to the library, and sat there alone, for some moments, before she could summon the presence of mind which every sense warned her would be required for the ordeal. At last, with a pinched heart, she went up the great staircase, and found Reckage writing at her own table in the drawing-room.
In a sense, giving Reckage up seems to uproot me altogether from all my former life, and the future is only not a blank because it is such a mystery. I am sure, though, that sorrow is never in God's ordinance the whole law of life. These are great compensations." "Anything is better than to sit still and dream," said Rennes. "I have dreamt too long. I find solitude oppressive.
Reckage joined her and said, under his voice, "You think I ought to go, don't you?" This question given in a half-whisper seemed to establish a fresh intimacy between them. It was the renewal of their old friendship on deeper terms. "Yes, you must go," she answered; "and, Beauclerk, write to me and tell me how he bears it." "He is accustomed to a repressive discipline on these matters.
"They say it is unlucky to try on your wedding-dress," he continued, seeking relief in the very torture of reminding himself that the date of her marriage with Lord Reckage was fixed. "I never think about luck," she answered. "I met Reckage at the play last night. I lunched with him to-day," said Rennes. "I am so glad that you are friends. I want you to like him." "No doubt he thinks me mad.
"Reckage is fond of Orange," she said, "yet there is a certain jealousy.... Formerly, Orange had need of Reckage, and depended on him; now Reckage needs him and depends on Orange. Could he but know it, Orange is the one creature who could pull him through his difficulties with the Bond of Association.
A sudden flame from the grate illuminated the faces of Orange and Lord Reckage. The two ladies greeted each other. All spoke, and then all were silent. It was an awkward meeting for every one present. Lord Garrow rang the bell, and the small company sat there without a word, watching the footman light the gas in the glass chandelier.
"Have you ever thought," said Reckage, with pretended carelessness, "that Orange's serenity just now is somewhat unnatural? Is it all religion?" "I believe that neither of us can form any conception of his capacity for suffering, or the support he finds in his Belief." "It points to fanaticism, no doubt. He is a Cardinal in petto. The Catholics want spirit everywhere, and Orange has got spirit.
"Our strong men?" faltered Lord Garrow. "Aren't most of 'em place-hunters and self-seekers?" "You must meet Robert Orange," said Pensée; "Mr. Disraeli believes in Robert Orange." "I never heard of him," observed Sir Piers. "Who is he?" "You may well ask," said Lord Garrow. "He claims to be a de Hausée on his father's side. Reckage can tell you about him.
Robert, he urged, was born to be an example an encouragement to those who were called, by the mercy of God, to less rigorous vocations. Reckage suffered many scruples of conscience on Robert's account; he surveyed him with a sense of disappointment; he had always supposed that he would ultimately turn Jesuit in sober earnest, and die a martyr's death in the Far East.
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