Coningsby was the hero of Eton; everybody was proud of him, talked of him, quoted him, imitated him.  But the ties of friendship bound Coningsby to Henry Sydney and Oswald Millbank above all companions.  Lord Henry Sydney was the son of a duke, and Millbank was the son of one of the wealthiest manufacturers in Lancashire.  Once, on the river, Coningsby saved Millbank’s life; and this was the beginning of a close and ardent friendship.

Coningsby liked very much to talk politics with Millbank.  He heard things from Millbank which were new to him.  Politics had, as yet, appeared to him a struggle whether the country was to be governed by Whig nobles or Tory nobles; and Coningsby, a high Tory as he supposed himself to be, thought it very unfortunate that he should probably have to enter life with his friends out of power and his family boroughs destroyed.  But, in conversing with Millbank, he heard for the first time of influential classes in the country who were not noble, and were yet determined to acquire power.

Generally, at that time, among the upper boys at Eton there was a reigning inclination for political discussion, and a feeling in favour of “Conservative principles.”  A year later, and in 1836, gradually the inquiry fell upon attentive ears as to what these Conservative principles were.  Before Coningsby and his friends left Eton—­Coningsby for Cambridge, and Millbank for Oxford—­they were resolved to contend for political faith rather than for mere partisan success or personal ambition.

II.—­A Portrait of a Lady

On his way to Coningsby Castle, in Lancashire, where the Marquess of Monmouth was living in state—­feasting the county, patronising the borough, and diffusing confidence in the Conservative party in order that the electors of Dartford might return his man, Mr. Rigby, once more for parliament—­our hero halted for the night at Manchester.  In the coffee-room at the hotel a stranger, loud in praise of the commercial enterprise of the neighbourhood, advised Coningsby, if he wanted to see something tip-top in the way of cotton works, to visit Millbank of Millbank’s; and thus it came about that Coningsby first met Edith Millbank.  Oswald was abroad; and Mr. Millbank, when he heard the name of his visitor, was only distressed that the sudden arrival left no time for adequate welcome.

“My visit to Manchester, which led to this, was quite accidental,” said Coningsby.  “I am bound for the other division of the county, to pay a visit to my grandfather, Lord Monmouth, but an irresistible desire came over me during my journey to view this famous district of industry.”

A cloud passed over the countenance of Millbank as the name of Lord Monmouth was mentioned; but he said nothing, only turning towards Coningsby, with an air of kindness, to beg him, since to stay longer was impossible, to dine with him.  Coningsby gladly agreed to this and the village clock was striking five when Mr. Millbank and his guest entered the gardens of his mansion and proceeded to the house.