old timber vessels, when Iron's afloat, colonel.'

'I suspect you have the worst of it there, papa,' said Cecilia, taken by
the unexpectedness and smartness of the comparison coming from wits that
she had been undervaluing.

'I shall not own I'm worsted until I surrender my vote,' the colonel
rejoined.

'I won't despair of it,' said Beauchamp.

Colonel Halkett bade him come for it as often as he liked. You'll be
beaten in Bevisham, I warn you. Tory reckonings are safest: it's an
admitted fact: and we know you can't win. According to my judgement a man
owes a duty to his class.'

'A man owes a duty to his class as long as he sees his class doing its
duty to the country,' said Beauchamp; and he added, rather prettily in
contrast with the sententious commencement, Cecilia thought, that the
apathy of his class was proved when such as he deemed it an obligation on
them to come forward and do what little they could. The deduction of the
proof was not clearly consequent, but a meaning was expressed; and in
that form it brought him nearer to her abstract idea of Nevil Beauchamp
than when he raged and was precise.

After his departure she talked of him with her father, to be charitably
satirical over him, it seemed.

The critic in her ear had pounced on his repetition of certain words that
betrayed a dialectical stiffness and hinted a narrow vocabulary: his use
of emphasis, rather reminding her of his uncle Everard, was, in a young
man, a little distressing. 'The apathy of the country, papa; the apathy
of the rich; a state of universal apathy. Will you inform me, papa, what
the Tories are doing? Do we really give our consciences to the keeping of
the parsons once a week, and let them dogmatize for us to save us from
exertion? We must attach ourselves to principles; nothing is permanent
but principles. Poor Nevil! And still I am sure you have, as I have, the
feeling that one must respect him. I am quite convinced that he supposes
he is doing his best to serve his country by trying for Parliament,
fancying himself a Radical. I forgot to ask him whether he had visited
his great-aunt, Mrs. Beauchamp. They say the dear old lady has influence
with him.'

'I don't think he's been anywhere,' Colonel Halkett half laughed at the
quaint fellow. 'I wish the other great-nephew of hers were in England,
for us to run him against Nevil Beauchamp. He's touring the world. I'm
told he's orthodox, and a tough debater. We have to take what