Doctor Thorne | Page 3

cared for politics, or
thought that she cared for them, more than her husband did; for a
month or two previous to her engagement she had been attached to the
Court, and had been made to believe that much of the policy of
England's rulers depended on the political intrigues of England's
women. She was one who would fain be doing something if she only
knew how, and the first important attempt she made was to turn her
respectable young Tory husband into a second-rate Whig bantling. As
this lady's character will, it is hoped, show itself in the following pages,
we need not now describe it more closely.
It is not a bad thing to be son-in-law to a potent earl, member of
Parliament for a county, and a possessor of a fine old English seat, and
a fine old English fortune. As a very young man, Frank Gresham found
the life to which he was thus introduced agreeable enough. He consoled
himself as best he might for the blue looks with which he was greeted
by his own party, and took his revenge by consorting more thoroughly
than ever with his political adversaries. Foolishly, like a foolish moth,
he flew to the bright light, and, like the moths, of course he burnt his
wings. Early in 1833 he had become a member of Parliament, and in
the autumn of 1834 the dissolution came. Young members of three had

four-and-twenty do not think much of dissolutions, forget the fancies of
their constituents, and are too proud of the present to calculate much as
to the future. So it was with Mr Gresham. His father had been member
for Barsetshire all his life, and he looked forward to similar prosperity
as though it was part of his inheritance; but he failed to take any of the
steps which had secured his father's seat.
In the autumn of 1834 the dissolution came, and Frank Gresham, with
his honourable lady wife and all the De Courcys at his back, found that
he had mortally offended the county.
To his great disgust another candidate was brought forward as a fellow
to his late colleague, and though he manfully fought the battle, and
spent ten thousand pounds in the contest, he could not recover his
position. A high Tory, with a great Whig interest to back him, is never
a popular person in England. No one can trust him, though there may
be those who are willing to place him, untrusted, in high positions.
Such was the case with Mr Gresham. There were many who were
willing, for family considerations, to keep him in Parliament; but no
one thought that he was fit to be there. The consequences were, that a
bitter and expensive contest ensued. Frank Gresham, when twitted with
being a Whig, foreswore the De Courcy family; and then, when
ridiculed as having been thrown over by the Tories, foreswore his
father's old friends. So between the two stools he fell to the ground, and,
as a politician, he never again rose to his feet.
He never again rose to his feet; but twice again he made violent efforts
to do so. Elections in East Barsetshire, from various causes, came quick
upon each other in those days, and before he was eight-and-twenty
years of age Mr Gresham had three times contested the county and
been three times beaten. To speak the truth of him, his own spirit would
have been satisfied with the loss of the first ten thousand pounds; but
Lady Arabella was made of higher mettle. She had married a man with
a fine place and a fine fortune; but she had nevertheless married a
commoner and had in so far derogated from her high birth. She felt that
her husband should be by rights a member of the House of Lords; but,
if not, that it was at least essential that he should have a seat in the

lower chamber. She would by degrees sink into nothing if she allowed
herself to sit down, the mere wife of a mere county squire.
Thus instigated, Mr Gresham repeated the useless contest three times,
and repeated it each time at a serious cost. He lost his money, Lady
Arabella lost her temper, and things at Greshamsbury went on by no
means as prosperously as they had done in the days of the old squire.
In the first twelve years of their marriage, children came fast into the
nursery at Greshamsbury. The first that was born was a boy; and in
those happy halcyon days, when the old squire was still alive, great was
the joy at the birth of an heir to Greshamsbury; bonfires gleamed
through the country-side, oxen were roasted whole, and the customary
paraphernalia of joy, usual to rich Britons on