eoffrey much, and Beatrice was feminine enough
to notice it, and to be glad of it. In her gentle jealousy, she did not
like to think of Geoffrey as being interested in accounts of mysterious
ladies, however pretty.

At length a speaker rose--she understood from the murmur of those around
her that he was one of the leaders of the Opposition, and commenced a
powerful and bitter speech. She noticed that Geoffrey roused himself at
this point, and began to listen with attention.

"Look," said one of the ladies near her, "Mr. Bingham is taking notes.
He is going to speak next--he speaks wonderfully, you know. They say
that he is as good as anybody in the House, except Gladstone, and Lord
Randolph."

"Oh!" answered another lady. "Lady Honoria is not here, is she? I don't
see her."

"No," replied the first; "she is a dear creature, and so handsome
too--just the wife for a rising man--but I don't think that she takes
much interest in politics. Are not her dinners charming?"

At this moment, a volley of applause from the Opposition benches drowned
the murmured conversation.

This speaker spoke for about three-quarters of an hour, and then at last
Geoffrey stood up. One or two other members rose at the same time, but
ultimately they gave way.

He began slowly--and somewhat tamely, as it seemed to Beatrice, whose
heart was in her mouth--but when he had been speaking for about five
minutes, he warmed up. And then began one of the most remarkable
oratorical displays of that Parliament. Geoffrey had spoken well before,
and would speak well again, but perhaps he never spoke so well as he
did upon that night. For nearly an hour and a half he held the House in
chains, even the hoots and interruptions died away towards the end of
his oration. His powerful presence seemed to tower in the place, like
that of a giant among pigmies, and his dark, handsome face, lit with the
fires of eloquence, shone like a lamp. He leaned forward with a slight
stoop of his broad shoulders, and addressed himself, nominally to the
Speaker, but really to the Opposition. He took their facts one by one,
and with convincing logic showed that they were no facts; amid a hiss of
anger he pulverised their arguments and demonstrated their motives. Then
suddenly he dropped them altogether, and addressing himself to the House
at large, and the country beyond the House, he struck another note, and
broke out into that storm of patriotic eloquence which confirmed his