The Coryston Family

The Coryston Family (A Novel)
[with accents]

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Title: The Coryston Family
Author: Mrs. Humphry Ward
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THE CORYSTON FAMILY
A NOVEL
BY
MRS. HUMPHRY WARD
ILLUSTRATED BY ELIZABETH SHIPPEN GREEN
1913

TO
G.M.T. AND J.P.T.

ILLUSTRATIONS
"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN CONCOCTING THIS,
MOTHER?" Frontispiece THE CONVERSATION DROPPED, JUST
AS THE VOICE OF THE ORATOR ROSE TO HIS PERORATION
AS SHE SAW MARCIA HER FACE LIT UP
THIS MORNING HE FOUND HER ALL GIRLISH GENTLENESS
AND APPEAL
"I DO WISH I COULD HELP YOU"
MARCIA WAS SINGING, IN A LOW VOICE AS SHE CAME
HE SAT STILL, STUDYING HIS MOTHER'S STRONG, LINED
FACE
NOW SUDDENLY--HERE WAS A FRIEND--ON WHOM TO LEAN

Book I
LADY CORYSTON

[Greek: turannon einai moria kai tonthelein.]

CHAPTER I
The hands of the clock on the front of the Strangers' Gallery were
nearing six. The long-expected introductory speech of the Minister in
charge of the new Land Bill was over, and the leader of the Opposition
was on his feet. The House of Commons was full and excited. The side
galleries were no less crowded than the benches below, and round the
entrance-door stood a compact throng of members for whom no seats
were available. With every sentence, almost, the speaker addressing the
House struck from it assent or protest; cheers and counter-cheers ran
through its ranks; while below the gangway a few passionate figures on
either side, the freebooters of the two great parties, watched one
another angrily, sitting on the very edge of their seats, like arrows
drawn to the string.
Within that privileged section of the Ladies' Gallery to which only the
Speaker's order admits, there was no less agitation than on the floor
below, though the signs of it were less evident. Some half a dozen
chairs placed close against the grille were filled by dusky forms
invisible, save as a dim patchwork, to the House beneath them--women
with their faces pressed against the lattice-work which divided them
from the Chamber, endeavoring to hear and see, in spite of all the
difficulties placed in their way by a graceless Commons. Behind them
stood other women, bending forward sometimes over the heads of
those in front, in the feverish effort to catch the words of the speech. It
was so dark in the little room that no inmate of it could be sure of the
identity of any other unless she was close beside her; and it was
pervaded by a constant soft _frou-frou_ of silk and satin, as persons
from an inner room moved in and out, or some lady silently gave up
her seat to a new-comer, or one of those in front bent over to whisper to
a friend behind. The background of all seemed filled with a shadowy
medley of plumed hats, from which sometimes a face emerged as a
shaft of faint light from the illumined ceiling of the House struck upon
it.

The atmosphere was very hot, and heavy with the scent of violets,
which seemed to come from a large bunch worn by a slim standing girl.
In front of the girl sat a lady who was evidently absorbed in the scene
below. She rarely moved, except occasionally to put up an eyeglass the
better to enable her to identify some face on the Parliamentary benches,
or the author of some interruption to the speaker. Meanwhile the girl
held her hands upon the back of the lady's chair, and once or twice
stooped to speak to her.
Next to this pair, but in a corner of the gallery,