Chapter XI: The Premier Outwitted

The next day Lady Chesterwood sat down and wrote the following letter to her husband’s cousin:

“MY DEAR PATRICIA,—I have just been up Queen’s Road to see Athelstan
off by the 6.40 to town, but he will be here again in the middle of
the week (Parliament permitting), so the parting will not be for long.
Not forgetting my promise to you, I had a long conversation with him
this afternoon on the Jewish question, and as you know his feelings on
the matter, I think I was _most courageous_ in introducing the subject
at all. He says that the affair has now passed out of his hands, and
that in speaking as he did, he merely voiced the opinion of the great
bulk of the British workmen. That the Bill will be passed is an
absolute certainty, and he thinks the Edict of Banishment will be
proclaimed in about a month from now. I then told him about your
engagement to Mr. Montella, and he said it was _absolutely suicidal_
on your part to become the wife of a Jew. He was so angry about it
that I dared not say a word in defence. He has begged me to do my
utmost to persuade you to break off the engagement; and really,
Patricia, I think you will be _most foolish_ if you persist. Have you
not realised that, as the wife of Montella, you will either be banned
and cut in society, or else you will have to be separated from him
when the new Act comes into force? I don’t know what your father can
be about that he does not interfere. Athelstan intends to pay him a
visit during the course of the week, to acquaint him of his duty.
Don’t think me unkind for taking this view of the matter. What I
really desire is your _ultimate_ happiness.—Ever your affectionate
cousin,

“MAMIE CHESTERWOOD.”

The caligraphy was somewhat sprawling in effect, and much underlined. A student of graphology would have noticed weakness, and a disposition easily amenable to persuasion in the unconnected and carelessly formed characters. Patricia absorbed the contents of the letter with very little surprise. Knowing how easy it was to influence the Countess in almost any direction, she had been certain all along that the Prime Minister would soon persuade her to his way of thinking. That was why she had been so horror-stricken at Mamie’s anticipated engagement to Moore.

The Premier did not pay his visit that week, but he came before the month was out. The Earl received him in the state drawing-room, and listened attentively to what he had to say. He and Moore had been at Balliol together, and although they had never been actual friends, they had always entertained a mutual respect for each other. Therefore he did not think of resenting the Minister’s interference in the matter, and went so far as to acknowledge the apparent reasonableness of his opinions.

Nevertheless he did not consider it necessary to be greatly concerned. If it had been his son who wished to marry a Jewess, the case would have been different; he seemed to think a daughter of much less consequence.

“Patricia is of age and able to decide for herself,” he said, with an air of nonchalance. “As she makes her bed, so must she lie upon it—that is all.”

“But it is such a disgrace,” persisted Moore, determined on carrying his point. “It is a case which will excite public comment, and therefore is not merely a personal matter. For the sake of example it ought not to be allowed.”

The Earl’s face was impassive.

“What is it you object to?” he asked. “The race or the religion?”

“Both, though if Montella dropped his Judaism it would not be so bad. But Montella never will; the matter will be solved by your daughter joining the Jewish Church. That is where the disgrace comes in—for a woman in these days of grace to voluntarily go back to the religion of the pre-Christian Era, to fling away the Christianity which has done more than anything else to civilise the world. Why, it’s absolutely ridiculous. She might just as well put away her modern dress, education, and culture. I have never known such an absurd thing in my life.”

“I am afraid my daughter is angry with Christianity just now,” said the Earl imperturbably, “since it is used as a cloak to cover the persecution of the Jews. She thinks the end does not justify the means.”

“Nonsense! she does not understand anything at all about it. The rulers of the State have to look far ahead; what we legislate now is for the benefit of the future generations. It is surely better that these people should be expelled than that the whole nation should suffer later on.”

He paced up and down the room, his face crimson with indignation. He could have shaken the noble Earl for being so dense as not to see the enormity of the situation. He continued to harangue him for another forty minutes, until the Earl was so weary that he promised faithfully to insist on the dissolution of the betrothal. Then just as he was about to conclude his remarks, the door opened to admit the happy—or unhappy—pair. To the Premier their appearance was most opportune.

They both bowed to the visitor, but neither attempted to shake hands. Patricia, forgetting that he was Mamie Chesterfield’s fiancé, saw in him only the virulent Jew-hater, and could not bring herself to give him a friendly greeting, even though at this particular moment she felt at peace with all the world. Montella looked unusually flushed, but the anxious expression which had been his of late had vanished, and there was an eager glow in his eyes. He took not the slightest notice of the Premier’s glance of hatred, and stood by his sweetheart’s side with an air of self-possession. He knew, without requiring to be told, that the visit of his enemy was in some way connected with himself; but an event had happened which caused him to view this visit with equanimity almost amounting to unconcern.

The day was raw and cold, but Patricia was dressed in the palest shade of grey, the delicate appearance of which was enhanced by the choice white flowers at her breast and attached to her ermine muff. She looked so fair and radiant, that Athelstan Moore’s indignation increased, and he determined yet again that this beautiful girl should not be lost to England and the Church by becoming Montella’s bride. He asked for an interview with her and her father, minus the presence of her lover; but to this request the girl refused to accede. She was quite willing to listen to whatever the Premier might wish to say, but it must be said before Mr. Montella or not at all.

The Premier met the steady glance from her grey eyes without flinching.

“Very well, Lady Patricia, you give me no alternative but to speak out my mind before one to whom my words must be extremely disagreeable,” he said, with a glance at Montella. “I will not beat about the bush then; I will come to the point at once. I have just had a long conversation with your father, in which I have tried to point out to him the many disadvantages which would accrue from your marriage with Mr. Montella. Not to mention the many minor points which I might put forth for his consideration and yours, I will repeat three great impedimenta to such a marriage. Firstly, you would have to become an apostate from the Christian religion—an action, the gravity of which it is possible you could not realise for many years; secondly, you would be ostracised by society, and for your father’s sake you should remember the motto _noblesse oblige_—you are not justified in renouncing your birthright; and thirdly, you would perform an action contrary to the spirit and temper of the nation at the present time, by not only advocating the Jewish cause, but by becoming the wife of a Jew. These three reasons are surely of sufficient weight to deter you from such a course, especially as you would give not only personal, but national offence. Of course I take it for granted that you are not actuated purely by a motive of selfishness. I presume that you are not unwilling to weigh the pros and cons of the case?”

Patricia had sunk on to one of the little Chippendale chairs, and was looking up at him with an air of artlessness, whilst the Earl and Montella stood inertly by.

“You are very kind to take so much interest in me, Mr. Moore,” she said quietly, when he had finished. “May I be so bold as to inquire the reason?”

“Certainly; the reason is not far to seek. Having the honour and pleasure of your acquaintance, your contemplated marriage would grieve me inexpressibly. And not only that; as I said before, the marriage of a lady of high rank and noble family with a leader of insurgent Jews is a matter of national importance. Your father has agreed with me that such is the case.”

At the word “insurgent” Montella started forward as though he wished to speak, but his sweetheart, with a gesture, restrained him.

“The Jews are not insurgents,” she corrected quietly. “It is you and your party who are endeavouring to make them so. I think it a pity that the nation has not enough to do to look after its own affairs without troubling about mine. I am afraid I do not appreciate an interest of this sort.”

The Premier scowled, and Lord Torrens, noticing it, advanced.

“I wish you to give Mr. Moore a proper answer, my dear child,” he said amicably. “Since he has taken the trouble to come here expressly on your account, it is fitting that you should make your defence.”

“Defence?” repeated the girl, with rising colour. “Am I in a court of law?” She gulped down her angry feelings, and added, in a quieter tone: “Very well, Mr. Moore, my defence is simply this: If I am of noble birth, Mr. Montella’s lineage is more ancient than my own, and there is no member of my family who has ever done so much to promote the general welfare of his country as did the late Sir Julian Montella for England. Lionel himself is in every way worthy of respect; and the brilliance of his university and parliamentary careers has proved that a more gifted man of his age cannot be found. That he is a Jew is to me an additional attraction, and for the senseless opinions of society at large I care nothing whatever. In regard to the religious point of view, I feel justified in seceding from Christianity if the circumstances necessitate my doing so. Perhaps had I received a more careful religious training, I might not have found it so easy to renounce, but since my mother died I have been left to flounder about in the maze of conflicting and contradictory doctrines; consequently I have nothing to cling to, and no treasured sentiment to forego. Finally, I love Mr. Montella with all my heart, and therefore I am determined to be faithful to my promise.”

She gave a sigh of relief as her voice dropped into silence. Her listeners could not help admiring the staunch spirit of her words. Lionel hated to be eulogised, but his heart warmed towards his sweet and zealous advocate. The Premier realised the futility of his intervention, but he was not yet willing to throw up the sponge.

“I see that to discuss the matter with you is useless,” he returned, with equanimity. “It is seldom possible to argue with a woman, I find. However, I now make my appeal to your father. Lord Torrens, you have heard my opinion both as politician and friend, and I hope you now realise the importance and truth of what I have said. It is your duty to prohibit this marriage by every means in your power; but if you do not feel disposed to exert your prerogative, will you accept me as deputy in your place? Do you give me the authority to work for you in this matter? If so, I think I shall be able to find—by means of the law—an impediment which cannot be surmounted. If I undertake to fight out the matter, the marriage _shall not take place_!”

He jerked out the last words as though he were pronouncing final judgment, and brought his fist down on the table with force. The lovers looked at each other, and Montella made as though he would speak; but again Patricia restrained him.

“Father,” she said, approaching the Earl, with a look of appeal, “do you not think this interview has lasted long enough? I have listened to Mr. Moore with all the patience I could manage; but when he threatens to prevent my marriage by means of the law, it is like trying to frighten a child. We may not know much—Lionel and I—but we are wise enough to know that the law has no power where we are concerned. Besides, you would not give Mr. Moore permission to act for you in this matter, would you, dear?”

The Earl was getting impatient, and took no notice of her caress.

“I give Mr. Moore permission to do as he likes,” he answered, a trifle pettishly. “If the matter is of national importance, it is in his domain, and he can take what steps he chooses. Personally, I like Montella, and have no objection to him as a son-in-law. You must fight it out between you; I wash my hands of the whole affair.”

The two young people looked triumphant, but so did the Premier.

“Then it is unnecessary to prolong this interview further,” he said, taking up his hat and stick. “Since you give me authority, Lord Torrens, I shall know what course to pursue.”

Montella at last came forward.

“One moment, Mr. Moore, before you go,” he put in, drawing his beloved towards him. “Lady Patricia and I have no wish to maintain a personal enmity towards you, and we should like to part as friends. It may be that we shall never cross your path again, for when the barbarous Edict is published, it is probable that we shall leave England for good. Meanwhile, we may assure you that whatever steps you may take to prevent our marriage will be absolutely useless, for the simple reason that—in order to save further controversy on the matter—_we were married this morning_.”

He had no occasion to repeat his statement; his words carried conviction with them. The Earl started in surprise, and then gave vent to a chuckle of amusement. The Premier was quite taken aback, but in spite of the sudden pallor which overspread his face, he managed to retain his self-possession.

“Since you have taken the law into your own hands, then there is no more to be said,” he returned, in a voice from which all the bombast had departed. “May I ask where the ceremony was performed?”

The bridegroom produced sundry documents from his breast pocket.

“We were married first at the registrar’s office at Knightsbridge, then by the Chief Rabbi in my mother’s drawing-room. If you wish to see the certificate you are welcome to do so,” he said.

The Premier condescended to give the papers his examination. Then he suddenly veered round, and astonished them all by offering his congratulations. The newly-married pair were too happy to bear malice, and accepted them with satisfaction. But they could not help remarking on his sudden change of feeling when the Premier eventually took his leave.

The Earl chuckled for the remainder of the day, and in his admiration for Montella’s smartness, forbore to be angry. He considered that the interfering Premier had been nicely fooled, and expressed the hope that the lesson would do him good. Montella wondered what Moore’s next move would be; he knew that he was not the man to swallow defeat.

“What a strange wedding-day, dearest!” he exclaimed on the drive towards his mother’s flat—their temporary home. “We could not have been married in a quieter manner had we been the poorest couple in England. Why, even our footman had his wedding-breakfast, and a fortnight at Southend; but we have had to dispense both with festivities and honeymoon.”

Patricia smiled up at him reassuringly.

“Never mind, Lal, we will make up for it later on,” she returned happily. “It is Parliament’s fault, and you are still in mourning, you know. There will be plenty of time for our honeymoon when the Edict is proclaimed.”

“There will be hardships for us both,” he said, with a sigh, his brow clouding. “I quail when I think of what I have brought upon you, my beloved.”

She drove away his forebodings with a gentle caress.

“I can bear all hardships and all troubles,” she answered, in an eager voice. “I can undergo anything—so long as I have you!”