elf,' added his Grace, throwing him a sovereign. 'Now, mind;
I depend upon you.'

The man stared as if he had been suddenly taken into partnership with
missis; at length he found his tongue.

'Your honour may depend upon me. Where would you like to sit? In or out?
Back to your horses, or the front? Get you the box if you like. Where's
your great coat, sir? I'll brush it for you.'

The bath and the breakfast brought our hero round a good deal, and
at half-past two he stole to a solitary part of St. James's Park, to
stretch his legs and collect his senses. We must now let our readers
into a secret, which perhaps they have already unravelled. The Duke
had hurried to London with the determination, not only of attending the
debate, but of participating in it. His Grace was no politician; but the
question at issue was one simple in its nature and so domestic in its
spirit, that few men could have arrived at his period of life without
having heard its merits, both too often and too amply discussed. He was
master of all the points of interest, and he had sufficient confidence
in himself to believe that he could do them justice. He walked up and
down, conning over in his mind not only the remarks which he intended
to make, but the very language in which he meant to offer them. As he
formed sentences, almost for the first time, his courage and his fancy
alike warmed: his sanguine spirit sympathised with the nobility of the
imaginary scene, and inspirited the intonations of his modulated voice.

About four o'clock he repaired to the House. Walking up one of the
passages his progress was stopped by the back of an individual bowing
with great civility to a patronising peer, and my-lording him with
painful repetition. The nobleman was Lord Fitz-pompey; the bowing
gentleman, Mr. Duncan Macmorrogh, the anti-aristocrat, and father of the
first man of the day.

'George! is it possible!' exclaimed Lord Fitz-pompey. 'I will speak to
you in the House,' said the Duke, passing on, and bowing to Mr. Duncan
Macmorrogh.

He recalled his proxy from the Duke of Burlington, and accounted for
his presence to many astonished friends by being on his way to the
Continent; and, passing through London, thought he might as well
be present, particularly as he was about to reside for some time in
Catholic countries. It was the last compliment that he could pay his
future host. 'Give me a pinch of snuff.'

The debate began. Don't be alarmed. I shall