“You are, as I have ever thought you, the kindest and most tender-hearted of beings,” said Coningsby, much moved; “but the custom of the world does not permit such acts to either of us as you contemplate. Have confidence in yourself. You will be happy.”
“When I die, these riches will be yours; that, at all events, you cannot prevent,” were Flora’s last generous words.
VII.—On Life’s Threshold
Coningsby established himself in the Temple to read law; and Lord Henry Sydney, Oswald Millbank, and other old Eton friends rallied round their early leader.
“I feel quite convinced that Coningsby will become Lord Chancellor,” Henry Sydney said gravely, after leaving the Temple.
The General Election of 1841, which Lord Monmouth had expected a year before, found Coningsby a solitary student in his lonely chambers in the Temple. All his friends and early companions were candidates, and with sanguine prospects. They sent their addresses to Coningsby, who, deeply interested, traced in them the influence of his own mind.
Then, in the midst of the election, one evening in July, Coningsby, catching up a third edition of the “Sun,” was startled by the word “Dartford” in large type. Below it were the headlines:
“Extraordinary Affair! Withdrawal of the Liberal Candidate! Two Tory Candidates in the Field!”
Mr. Millbank, at the last moment, had retired, and had persuaded his supporters to nominate Harry Coningsby in his place. The fight was between Coningsby and Rigby.
Oswald Millbank, who had just been returned to parliament, came up to London; and from him, as they travelled to Dartford, Coningsby grasped the change of events. Sidonia had explained to Lady Wallinger the cause of Coningsby’s disinheritance. Lady Wallinger had told Oswald and Edith; and Oswald had urged on his father the recognition of his friend’s affection for his sister.
On his own impulse Mr. Millbank decided that Coningsby should contest Dartford.
Mr. Rigby was beaten; and Coningsby arrived at Dartford in time to receive the cheers of thousands. From the hustings he gave his first address to a public assembly; and by general agreement no such speech had ever been heard in the borough before.
Early in the autumn Harry and Edith were married at Millbank, and they passed their first moon at Hellingsley.
The death of Flora, who had bequeathed the whole of her fortune to the husband of Edith, took place before the end of the year, hastened by the fatal inheritance which disturbed her peace and embittered her days, haunting her heart with the recollection that she had been the instrument of injuring the only being whom she loved.
Coningsby passed his next Christmas in his own hall, with his beautiful and gifted wife by his side, and surrounded by the friends of his heart and his youth.
The young couple stand now on the threshold of public life. What will be their fate? Will they maintain in august assemblies and high places the great truths, which, in study and in solitude, they have embraced? Or will vanity confound their fortunes, and jealousy wither their sympathies?