Two years
before his death the Irish baron was quietly converted into an
English peer; and without exciting any attention, all the
squibs of Fitzpatrick, all the jokes of Hare, quite forgotten,
the waiter of the St James's Street club took his seat in the
most natural manner possible in the House of Lords.
The great estate of the late Lord Fitz-Warene was situated at
Mowbray, a village which principally belonged to him, and near
which he had raised a gothic castle, worthy of his Norman name
and ancestry. Mowbray was one of those places which during
the long war had expanded from an almost unknown village to a
large and flourishing manufacturing town; a circumstance,
which, as Lady Marney observed, might have somewhat
deteriorated the atmosphere of the splendid castle, but which
had nevertheless doubled the vast rental of its lord. He who
had succeeded to his father was Altamont Belvidere (named
after his mother's family) Fitz-Warene, Lord Fitz-Warene. He
was not deficient in abilities, though he had not his father's
talents, but he was over-educated for his intellect; a common
misfortune. The new Lord Fitz-Warene was the most
aristocratic of breathing beings. He most fully, entirely,
and absolutely believed in his pedigree; his coat of arms was
emblazoned on every window, embroidered on every chair, carved
in every corner.
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