The end of November was, however, now approaching, and Parliament
was about to reassemble. Masham had written more than once to Lord
Cadurcis, impressing upon him the propriety and expediency of taking
his seat. He had shown these letters, as he showed everything, to
Venetia, who was his counsellor on all subjects, and Venetia agreed
with their friend.
'It is right,' said Venetia; 'you have a duty to perform, and you must
perform it. Besides, I do not wish the name of Cadurcis to sink again
into obscurity. I shall look forward with interest to Lord Cadurcis
taking the oaths and his seat. It will please me; it will indeed.'
'But Venetia,' said George, 'I do not like to leave this place. I am
happy, if we may be happy. This life suits me. I am a quiet man. I
dislike London. I feel alone there.'
'You can write to us; you will have a great deal to say. And I shall
have something to say to you now. I must give you a continual report
how they go on at the abbey. I will be your steward, and superintend
everything.'
'Ah!' said George, 'what shall I do in London without you, without
your advice? There will be something occurring every day, and I shall
have no one to consult. Indeed I shall feel quite miserable; I shall
indeed.'
'It is quite impossible that, with your station, and at your time of
life, you should bury yourself in the country,' said Venetia.
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