race shook his
head.

"Sir Robert will never consent to form a government again without Lord
Stanley," said Lady Firebrace.

"Perhaps not," said the duke.

"Do you know whose name I have heard mentioned in a certain quarter
as the person Sir Robert would wish to see in Ireland?" continued Lady
Firebrace.

His grace leant his ear.

"The Duke of Fitz-Aquitaine," said Lady Firebrace.

"Quite impossible," said the duke. "I am no party man; if I be anything,
I am a supporter of the government. True it is I do not like the way
they are going on, and I disapprove of all their measures; but we must
stand by our friends, Lady Firebrace. To be sure, if the country were in
danger, and the Queen personally appealed to one, and the conservative
party were really a conservative party, and not an old crazy faction
vamped up and whitewashed into decency--one might pause and consider.
But I am free to confess I must see things in a very different condition
to what they are at present before I could be called upon to take that
step. I must see men like Lord Stanley--"

"I know what you are going to say, my dear Duke of Fitz-Aquitaine. I
tell you again Lord Stanley is with us, heart and soul; and before long
I feel persuaded I shall see your grace in the Castle of Dublin."

"I am too old; at least, I am afraid so," said the Duke of
Fitz-Aquitaine, with a relenting smile.

Book 2 Chapter 16

About three miles before it reaches the town, the river Mowe undulates
through a plain. The scene, though not very picturesque, has a glad and
sparkling character. A stone bridge unites the opposite banks by three
arches of good proportion; the land about consists of meads of a vivid
colour, or vegetable gardens to supply the neighbouring population,
and whose various hues give life and lightness to the level ground.
The immediate boundaries of the plain on either side are chiefly woods;
above the crest of which in one direction expands the brown bosom of a
moor. The few cottages which are sprinkled about this scene being built
of stone, and on an ample scale, contribute to the idea of comfort and
plenty which, with a serene sky and on a soft summer day, the traveller
willingly associates with it.

Such was the sky and season in which Egremont emerged on this scene a
few days after the incidents recorded in our last chapter. He had been
fishing in the park of Mowbray, and had followed the rivulet through
many windings until, qu