look in Beauchamp, noticed by
Cecilia Halkett in their latest interview, was deepening, and was of
itself a displeasure to Lord Avonley, who liked flourishing faces, and
said: 'That fellow's getting the look of a sweating smith': presumptively
in the act of heating his poker at the furnace to stir the country.

It now became an offence to him that Beauchamp should continue doing this
in the speeches and lectures he was reported to be delivering; he stamped
his foot at the sight of his nephew's name in the daily journals; a novel
sentiment of social indignation was expressed by his crying out, at the
next request for money: 'Money to prime you to turn the country into a
rat-hole? Not a square inch of Pennsylvanian paper-bonds! What right have
you to be lecturing and orationing? You've no knowledge. All you've got
is your instincts, and that you show in your readiness to exhibit them
like a monkey. You ought to be turned inside out on your own stage.
You've lumped your brains on a point or two about Land, and Commonland,
and the Suffrage, and you pound away upon them, as if you had the key of
the difficulty. It's the Scotchman's metaphysics; you know nothing clear,
and your working-classes know nothing at all; and you blow them with wind
like an over-stuffed cow. What you're driving at is to get hob-nail boots
to dance on our heads. Stukely says you should be off over to Ireland.
There you'd swim in your element, and have speechifying from instinct,
and howling and pummelling too, enough to last you out. I 'll hand you
money for that expedition. You're one above the number wanted here.
You've a look of bad powder fit only to flash in the pan. I saved you
from the post of public donkey, by keeping you out of Parliament. You're
braying and kicking your worst for it still at these meetings of yours. A
naval officer preaching about Republicanism and parcelling out the Land!'

Beauchamp replied quietly, 'The lectures I read are Dr. Shrapnel's. When
I speak I have his knowledge to back my deficiencies. He is too ill to
work, and I consider it my duty to do as much of his work as I can
undertake.'

'Ha! You're the old infidel's Amen clerk. It would rather astonish
orthodox congregations to see clerks in our churches getting into the
pulpit to read the sermon for sick clergymen,' said Lord Avonley. His
countenance furrowed. 'I'll pay that bill,' he added.

'Pay down half a million!' thundered Beauchamp; and dropping his voice,