Sybil Benjamin Disraeli (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📖

like Aubrey St. Lys at Marney,” said Egremont quietly, but rather doggedly.

“And if he were here, I would soon see who should be master,” said Lord Marney; “I would not succumb like Mowbray. One might as well have a Jesuit in the house at once.”

“I dare say St. Lys would care very little about entering your house,” said Egremont. “I know it was with great reluctance that he ever came to Mowbray Castle.”

“I dare say; very great reluctance indeed. And very reluctant he was, I make no doubt, to sit next to Lady Maud. I wonder he does not fly higher, and preach to Lady Joan; but she is too sensible a woman for such fanatical tricks.”

“St. Lys thinks it his duty to enter all societies. That is the reason why he goes to Mowbray Castle, as well as to the squalid courts and cellars of the town. He takes care that those who are clad in purple and fine linen shall know the state of their neighbours. They cannot at least plead ignorance for the nonfulfilment of their duty. Before St. Lys’s time, the family at Mowbray Castle might as well have not existed, as far as benefiting their miserable vicinage. It would be well perhaps for other districts not less wretched, and for other families as high and favoured as the Mowbrays, if there were a Mr. St. Lys on the spot instead of a Mr. Slimsey.”

“I suppose that is meant for a cut,” said Lord Marney; “but I wish the people were as well off in every part of the country as they are on my estate. They get here their eight shillings a week, always at least seven, and every hand is at this moment in employ, except a parcel of scoundrels who prefer woodstealing and poaching, and who would prefer wood-stealing and poaching if you gave them double the wages. The rate of wages is nothing: certainty is the thing; and every man at Marney may be sure of his seven shillings a-week for at least nine months in the year; and for the other three, they can go to the House, and a very proper place for them; it is heated with hot air, and has every comfort. Even Marney Abbey is not heated with hot air. I have often thought of it; it makes me mad sometimes to think of those lazy, pampered menials passing their lives with their backs to a great roaring fire; but I am afraid of the flues.”

“I wonder, talking of fires, that you are not more afraid of burning ricks,” said Egremont.

“It’s an infernal lie,” said Lord Marney, very violently.

“What is?” said Egremont.

“That there is any incendiarism in this neighbourhood.”

“Why, there was a fire the day after I came.”

“That had nothing to do with wages; it was an accident. I examined into it myself; so did Grouse, so did Slimsey; I sent them about everywhere. I told them I was sure the fire was purely accidental, and to go and see about it; and they came back and agreed that it was purely accidental.”

“I dare say they did,” said Egremont; “but no one has discovered the accident.”

“For my part, I believe it was spontaneous combustion,” said Lord Marney.

“That is a satisfactory solution.” said Egremont, “but for my part, the fire being a fact, and it being painfully notorious that the people of Marney⁠—”

“Well, sir, the people of Marney⁠—” said his lordship fiercely.

“Are without question the most miserable population in the county.”

“Did Mr. St. Lys tell you that?” interrupted Lord Marney, white with rage.

“No, not Mr. Lys, but one better acquainted with the neighbourhood.”

“I’ll know your informant’s name,” said Lord Marney with energy.

“My informant was a woman,” said Egremont.

“Lady Maud, I suppose; secondhand from Mr. St. Lys.”

“Mv informant was a woman, and one of the people,” said Egremont.

“Some poacher’s drab! I don’t care what women say, high or low, they always exaggerate.”

“The misery of a family who live upon seven or even eight shillings a-week can scarcely be exaggerated.”

“What should you know about it? Did you ever live on seven or eight shillings a-week? What can you know about the people who pass your time at London clubs or in fine country houses? I suppose you want the people to live as they do at a house dinner at Boodle’s. I say that a family can live very well on seven shillings a-week, and on eight shillings very well indeed. The poor are very well off, at least the agricultural poor, very well off indeed. Their incomes are certain, that is a great point, and they have no cares, no anxieties; they always have a resource, they always have the House. People without cares do not require as much food as those whose life entails anxieties. See how long they live! Compare the rate of mortality among them with that of the manufacturing districts. Incendiarism indeed! If there had been a proper rural police, such a thing as incendiarism would never have been heard of!”

There was a pause. Lord Marney dashed off another bumper; Egremont sipped his wine. At length he said, “This argument made me forget the principal reason, George, why I am glad that we are alone together today. I am sorry to bore you, but I am bored myself deucedly. I find a letter from my agent. These election accounts must be settled.”

“Why, I thought they were settled.”

“How do you mean?”

“I thought my mother had given you a thousand pounds.”

“No doubt of that, but that was long ago disposed of.”

“In my opinion quite enough for a seat in these times. Instead of paying to get into Parliament, a man ought to be paid for entering it.”

“There may be a good deal in what you say,” said Egremont; “but it is too late to take that view of the business. The expense has been incurred and must be met.”

“I don’t see that,” said Lord Marney, “we have paid one thousand pounds and there is a balance unsettled. When was there ever a contest without a balance being unsettled? I