e to the Duke of
Wellington.

FLOATWELL received them in the politest manner, though he did not agree
with them. What he did agree with was difficult to say. Clever, brisk,
and bustling, with an university reputation and without patrimony,
Floatwell shrunk from the toils of a profession, and in the hurry skurry
of reform found himself to his astonishment a parliament man. There he
had remained, but why, the Fates alone knew. The fun of such a thing
must have evaporated with the novelty. Floatwell had entered public life
in complete ignorance of every subject which could possibly engage
the attention of a public man. He knew nothing of history, national or
constitutional law, had indeed none but puerile acquirements, and
had seen nothing of life. Assiduous at committees he gained those
superficial habits of business which are competent to the conduct of
ordinary affairs, and picked up in time some of the slang of economical
questions. Floatwell began at once with a little success, and he kept
his little success; nobody envied him it; he hoarded his sixpences
without exciting any evil emulation. He was one of those characters who
above all things shrink from isolation, and who imagine they are getting
on if they are keeping company with some who stick like themselves. He
was always an idolater of some great personage who was on the shelf,
and who he was convinced, because the great personage assured him of
it after dinner, would sooner or later turn out the man. At present,
Floatwell swore by Lord Dunderhead; and the game of this little coterie,
who dined together and thought they were a party, was to be courteous to
the Convention.

After the endurance of an almost interminable lecture on the currency
from Mr KITE, who would pledge himself to the charter if the charter
would pledge itself to one-pound notes, the two delegates had arrived in
Piccadilly, and the next member upon their list was Lord Valentine.

"It is two o'clock," said one of the delegates, "I think we may
venture;" so they knocked at the portal of the court yard, and found
they were awaited.

A private staircase led to the suite of rooms of Lord Valentine, who
lived in the family mansion. The delegates were ushered through
an ante-chamber into a saloon which opened into a very fanciful
conservatory, where amid tall tropical plants played a fountain. The
saloon was hung with blue satin, and adorned with brilliant mirrors: its
coved ceiling was richly