THE PRIME MINISTER (17 page)

‘You ask me a question, and I choose to answer it. I like Arthur Fletcher, because he is a gentleman, – because he is a gentleman of the class to which I belong myself, because he works; because I know all about him, so that I can be sure of him; because he had a decent father and mother;
because I am safe with him, being quite sure that he will say to me neither awkward things nor impertinent things. He will not talk to me about driving a mail coach like that foolish baronet, nor tell me the price of all his wines like your uncle.’ Nor would Ferdinand Lopez do so, thought Emily to herself. ‘But in all such matters, my dear, the great thing is like to like. I have spoken of
a young person, merely because I wish you to understand that I can sympathize with others besides those of my own age. But to-night there was no one there at all like myself, – or, as I hope, like you. That man Roby is a chattering ass. How such a man can be useful to any government I can’t conceive. Happerton was the best, but what had he to say for himself? I’ve always thought that there was very
little wit wanted to make a fortune in the City.’ In this frame of
mind Mr Wharton went off to bed, but not a word more was spoken about Ferdinand Lopez.

Certainly the thing was done very well by Lady Glen, – as many in the political world persisted in calling her even in these days. She had not as yet quite carried out her plan, – the doing of which would have required her to reconcile her husband to some excessive abnormal expenditure, and to have obtained from him a deliberate sanction for appropriation and probable
sale of property. She never could find the proper moment for doing this, having with all her courage, – low down in some corner of her heart, – a wholesome fear of a certain quiet power which her husband possessed. She could not bring herself to make her proposition; – but she almost acted as though it had been made and approved. Her house was always gorgeous with flowers. Of course there would
be the bill; – and he, when he saw the exotics, and the whole place turned into a bower of every fresh blooming floral glories, must know that there would be the bill. And when he found that there was an archducal dinner-party every week and an almost imperial reception twice a week; that at these receptions a banquet was always provided; when he was asked whether she might buy a magnificent pair
of bay carriage-horses, as to which she assured him that nothing so lovely had ever as yet been seen stepping in the streets of London, – of course he must know that the bill would come. It was better, perhaps, to do it in this way, than to make any direct proposition. And then, early in June, she spoke to him as to the guests to be invited to Gatherum Castle in August. ‘Do you want to go to Gatherum
in August?’ he asked in surprise. For she hated the place, and had hardly been content to spend ten days there every year at Christmas.

‘I think it should be done,’ she said solemnly. ‘One cannot quite consider just now what one likes oneself.’

‘Why not?’

‘You would hardly go to a small place like Matching in your present position. There are so many people whom you should entertain! You would
probably have two or three of the foreign ministers down for a time.’

‘We always used to find plenty of room at Matching.’

‘But you did not always use to be Prime Minister. It is only for such a time as this that such a house as Gatherum is serviceable.’

He was silent for a moment, thinking about it, and then gave way without another word. She was probably right. There was the huge pile of
magnificent buildings; and somebody, at any rate, had thought that it behoved a Duke of Omnium to live in such a palace. If it ought to be done at any time, it ought to be done now. In that his wife had been right. ‘Very well. Then let us go there.’

‘I’ll manage it all,’ said the Duchess, – ‘I and Locock.’ Locock was the house-steward.

‘I remember once,’ said the Duke, and he smiled as he spoke
with a peculiarly sweet expression, which would at times come across his generally inexpressive face, – ‘I remember once that some First Minister of the Crown gave evidence as to the amount of his salary, saying that his place entailed upon him expenses higher than his stipend would defray. I begin to think that my experience will be the same.’

‘Does that fret you?’

‘No, Cora; – it certainly
does not fret me, or I should not allow it. But I think there should be a limit No man is ever rich enough to squander.’

Though they were to squander her fortune, – the money which she had brought, – for the next ten years at a much greater rate than she contemplated, they might do so without touching the Palliser property. Of that she was quite sure. And the squandering was to be all for his
glory, – so that he might retain his position as a popular Prime Minister. For an instant it occurred to her that she would tell him all this. But she checked herself, and the idea of what she had been about to say brought the blood into her face. Never yet had she in talking to him alluded to her own wealth.

‘Of course we are spending money,’ she said. ‘If you give me a hint to hold my hand,
I will hold it.’

He had looked at her, and read it all in her face. ‘God knows,’ he said, ‘you’ve a right to do it if it pleases you.’

‘For your sake!’ Then he stooped down and kissed her twice, and left her to arrange her parties as she pleased. After that she congratulated herself that she had not made the direct proposition, knowing that she might now do pretty much what she pleased.

Then
there were solemn cabinets held, at which she presided, and Mrs Finn and Locock assisted. At other cabinets it is supposed that, let a leader be ever so autocratic by disposition and superior by intelligence, still he must not unfrequently yield to the opinion of his colleagues. But in this cabinet the Duchess always had her own way, though she was very persistent in asking for counsel. Locock was
frightened about the money. Hitherto money had come without a word, out of the common, spoken to the Duke. The Duke had always signed certain cheques, but they had been normal cheques; and the money in its natural course had flown in to meet them; – but now he must be asked to sign abnormal cheques. That, indeed, had already been done; but still the money had been there. A large balance, such as
had always stood to his credit, would stand a bigger racket than had yet been made. But Locock was quite sure that the balance ought not to be much further reduced, – and that steps must be taken. Something must be sold! The idea of selling anything was dreadful to the mind of Locock! Or else money must be borrowed! Now the management of the Palliser property had always been conducted on principles
antagonistic to borrowing. ‘But his Grace has never spent his income,’ said the Duchess. That was true. But the money, as it showed a tendency to heap itself up, had been used for the purchase of other bits of property, or for the amelioration of the estates generally. ‘You don’t mean to say that we can’t get money if we want it!’ Locock was profuse in his assurances that any amount of money could
be obtained, – only that something must be done. ‘Then let something be done,’ said the Duchess, going on with her general plans. ‘Many people are rich,’ said the Duchess afterwards to her friend, ‘and some people are very rich indeed; but nobody seems to be rich enough to have ready money to do just what he wishes. It all goes into a grand sum total, which is never to be touched without a feeling
of sacrifice. I suppose you have always enough for everything.’ It was well known that the present Mrs Finn, as Madame Goesler, had been a wealthy woman.

‘Indeed, no; – very far from that. I haven’t a shilling.’

‘What has happened?’ asked the Duchess, pretending to be frightened.

‘You forget that I’ve got a husband of my own, and that he has to be consulted.’
²⁰

‘That must be nonsense. But
don’t you think women are fools to marry when they’ve got anything of their own, and could be their own mistresses? I couldn’t have been. I was made to marry before I was old enough to assert myself.’

‘And how well they did for you!’

‘
Pas si mal
.
²¹
– He’s Prime Minister, which is a great thing, and I begin to find myself filled to the full with political ambition. I feel myself to be a Lady
Macbeth, prepared for the murder of any Duncan or any Daubeny who may stand in my lord’s way. In the meantime, like Lady Macbeth herself, we must attend to the banquetings. Her lord appeared and misbehaved himself;
²²
my lord won’t show himself at all, – which I think is worse.’

Our old friend Phineas Finn, who had now reached a higher place in politics than even his political dreams had assigned
to him, though he was a Member of Parliament, was much away from London in these days. New brooms sweep clean; and official new brooms, I think, sweep cleaner than any other. Who has not watched at the commencement of a Ministry some Secretary, some Lord, or some Commissioner, who intends by fresh Herculean labours to cleanse the Augean stables
²³
just committed to his care? Who does not know the
gentleman at the Home Office, who means to reform the police and put an end to malefactors; or the new Minister at the Board of Works, who is to make London beautiful as by a magician’s stroke, – or, above all, the new First Lord, who is resolved that he will really build us a fleet, purge the dockyards, and save us half a million a year at the same time? Phineas Finn was bent on unriddling the
Irish sphinx. Surely something might be done to prove to his susceptible countrymen that at the present moment no curse could be laid upon them so heavy as that of having to rule themselves apart from England; and he thought that this might be the easier, as he became from day to day more thoroughly convinced that those Home Rulers who were all around him in the House were altogether of the same
opinion. Had some inscrutable decree of fate ordained
and made it certain, – with a certainty not to be disturbed, – that no candidate could be returned to Parliament who would not assert the earth to be triangular, there would rise immediately a clamorous assertion of triangularity among political aspirants. The test would be innocent. Candidates have swallowed, and daily do swallow, many a worse
one. As might be this doctrine of a great triangle, so is the doctrine of Home Rule. Why is a gentleman of property to be kept out in the cold by some O’Mullins because he will not mutter an unmeaning shibboleth? ‘Triangular? Yes, – or lozenge-shaped, if you please; but, gentlemen, I am the man for Tipperary.’ Phineas Finn having seen, or thought that he had seen, all this, began, from the very
first moment of his appointment, to consider painfully within himself whether the genuine services of an honest and patriotic man might not compass some remedy for the present ill-boding ferment of the country. What was it that the Irish really did want; – what that they wanted, and had not got, and which might with propriety be conceded to them? What was it that the English really would refuse
to sanction, even though it might not be wanted? He found himself beating about among rocks as to Catholic education and Papal interference, the passage among which might be made clearer to him in Irish atmosphere than in that of Westminster. Therefore he was away a good deal in these days, travelling backwards and forwards as he might be wanted for any debate. But as his wife did not accompany him
on these fitful journeys, she was able to give her time very much to the Duchess.

The Duchess was on the whole very successful with her parties. There were people who complained that she had everybody; that there was no selection whatever as to politics, principles, rank, morals, – or even manners. But in such a work as the Duchess has now taken in hand, it was impossible that she should escape
censure. They who really knew what was being done were aware that nobody was asked to that house without an idea that his or her presence might be desirable, – in however remote a degree. Paragraphs in newspapers go for much, and therefore the writers and editors of such paragraphs were there, – sometimes with their wives. Mr Broune, of the
Breakfast Table
, was to be seen there constantly, with
his wife Lady Carbury, and poor old Booker of the
Literary Chronicle
. City men can make a budget popular or the reverse, and therefore
the Mills Happertons of the day were welcome. Rising barristers might be wanted to become Solicitors-General. The pet Orpheus of the hour, the young tragic actor who was thought to have a real Hamlet within him, the old painter who was growing rich on his reputation,
and the young painter who was still strong with hope, even the little trilling poet, though he trilled never so faintly, and the somewhat wooden novelist, all had tongues of their own, and certain modes of expression, which might assist or injure the Palliser Coalition, – as the Duke’s Ministry was now called.

‘Who is that man? I’ve seen him here before. The Duchess was talking to him ever so
long just now.’ The question was asked by Mr Rattler of Mr Roby. About half-an-hour before this time Mr Rattler had essayed to get a few words with the Duchess, beginning with the communication of some small political secret. But the Duchess did not care much for the Rattlers attached to her husband’s Government. They were men whose services could be had for a certain payment, – and when paid for
were, the Duchess thought, at the Premier’s command without further trouble. Of course they came to the receptions, and were entitled to a smile apiece as they entered. But they were entitled to nothing more, and on this occasion Rattler had felt himself to be snubbed. It did not occur to him to abuse the Duchess. The Duchess was too necessary for abuse, – just at present. But any friend of the Duchess,
– any favourite for the moment, – was of course, open to remark.

‘He is a man named Lopez,’ said Roby, ‘a friend of Happerton; – a very clever fellow they say.’

‘Did you ever see him anywhere else?’

‘Well, yes; – I have met him at dinner.’

‘He was never in the House. What does he do?’ Rattler was distressed to think that any drone should have made its way into the hive of working bees.