uite clear what 34 meant, and then any
other number, 32 or 36, would have suited his palate as well. But he
drank the 34, and tried to look as though he appreciated it.
"Our wines here are wonderfully cheap," said Mr. Prendergast,
becoming confidential; "but nevertheless we have raised the price of
that to twelve shillings. We'll have another bottle."
During all this Herbert could hardly think of his own fate and
fortune, though, indeed, he could hardly think of anything else.
He was eager to be alone, that he might think, and was nearly
broken-hearted when the second bottle of 34 made its appearance.
Something, however, was arranged in those intercalary moments between
the raising of the glasses. Mr. Prendergast said that he would write
both to Owen Fitzgerald and to Mr. Somers; and it was agreed that
Herbert should immediately return to Castle Richmond, merely giving
his mother time to have notice of his coming.
And then at last he got away, and started by himself for a night walk
through the streets of London. It seemed to him now to be a month
since he had arrived there; but in truth it was only on the yesterday
that he had got out of the train at the Euston Station. He had come
up, looking forward to live in London all his life, and now his
London life was over,--unless, indeed, those other hopes should come
back to him, unless he should appear again, not as a student in Mr.
Die's chamber, but as one of the council of the legislature assembled
to make laws for the governance of Mr. Die and of others. It was
singular how greatly this episode in his life had humbled him in his
own esteem. Six months ago he had thought himself almost too good for
Castle Richmond, and had regarded a seat in Parliament as the only
place which he could fitly fill without violation to his nature.
But now he felt as though he should hardly dare to show himself
within the walls of that assembly. He had been so knocked about by
circumstances, so rudely toppled from his high place,--he had found
it necessary to put himself so completely into the hands of other
people, that his self-pride had all left him. That it would in fact
return might be held as certain, but the lesson which he had learned
would not altogether be thrown away upon him.
At this moment, as I was saying, he felt himself to be completely
humbled. A lie spoken by one of the meanest of God's creatures had
turned him away from all his pursuits, and broken all his hopes;
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