e unseen world and its glorious
realities become dubious. These are trials of faith, I know. If one
could be wise, one would keep silent at such times. Now, dearest
Sara, good-night.

Yours ever lovingly,

PENSEE.

CHAPTER XIV

Lord Garrow and Lady Sara left town the next day for a short visit at
Kemmerstone Park, the seat of Arabella, Marchioness of Churleigh. Lady
Churleigh had a favourite nephew for whom she was extremely anxious "to
do something." Vague by nature, she had never been able to define her
ambition in more precise terms, but, as she entertained influential
people only, it was considered, in many circles, that she over-did her
civilities toward the mammon of unrighteousness. Those who were not
invited called her heartless; those who accepted her hospitality found
fault with her brains. All praised her cook, and no one ever thought of
her nephew. It was known that she could not leave him her money. Every
pair of eyes read his name--Lord Douglas Hendlesham--on his bedroom door
at the top of the grand staircase, and visitors soon learnt to associate
this advertisement with a pale, haughty young man who appeared
occasionally at meals, or sometimes listened disdainfully to the music
after dinner in the saloon. Distinguished persons, staying at
Kemmerstone for the first time, would ask a fellow-guest, "Who is the
melancholy youth who looks so ill?" "That," they would be told, "is
Douglas Hendlesham, I _think_."

Disraeli called him "a personified hallucination."

The party, on this particular occasion, consisted of Agnes Carillon (who
attracted unusual attention as the _fiancee_ of Lord Reckage), the
Bishop of Hadley (her father), the Duke and Duchess of Bevensey, Charles
Aumerle, and Mr. Disraeli. Lord Garrow lost no time in conveying his
version of the Orange scandal to the ex-Minister's ears. It was a damp
afternoon, and the two gentlemen marched up and down the smoking-room
together, talking so earnestly that the Duke (to his rage) dared not
interrupt them, and drove out instead with his Duchess and Lady
Churleigh--who bored him beyond sleep. Disraeli had been opposed, from
the first, to Robert's marriage with Mrs. Parflete, for, as other
diplomatists, he preferred his own plans before those of Providence, and
he had wished to see his young friend wisely united to the
unexceptionable Viscountess Fitz Rewes.

"But," he ob