udged the quality of Humphrey Crewe
as to suppose for an instant that he could be put out of countenance by
such a manoeuvre, that man was mightily mistaken. Mr. Crewe paused, with
his forefinger on the page, and fixed a glassy eye on the remote
neighbourhood in the back seats where the disturbance had started.

"I am much obliged to the gentleman," he said coldly, "but he has sent me
an article which I never use, under any conditions. I would not deprive
him of its convenience."

Whereupon, it is not too much to say, Mr. Crews was accorded an ovation,
led by his stanch friend and admirer, the Honourable Jacob Botcher,
although that worthy had been known to use the article in question.

Mr. Speaker Doby glanced at the faithful clock, and arose majestically.

"I regret to say," he announced, "that the time of the gentleman from
Leith is up."

Mr. Botcher rose slowly to his feet.

"Mr. Speaker," he began, in a voice that rumbled through the crevices of
the gallery, "I move you, sir, that a vote of thanks be accorded to the
gentleman from Leith for his exceedingly able and instructive speech on
national affairs."

"Second the motion," said the Honourable Brush Bascom, instantly.

"And leave to print in the State Tribune!" cried a voice from somewhere
among the submerged four hundred and seventy.

"Gentlemen of the House," said Mr. Crewe, when the laughter had subsided,
"I have given you a speech which is the result of much thought and
preparation on my part. I have not flaunted the star-spangled banner in
your faces, or indulged in oratorical fireworks. Mine have been the words
of a plain business man, and I have not indulged in wild accusations or
flights of imagination. Perhaps, if I had," he added, "there are some who
would have been better pleased. I thank my friends for their kind
attention and approbation."

Nevertheless, amidst somewhat of a pandemonium, the vote of thanks was
given and the House adjourned; while Mr. Crewe's friends of whom he had
spoken could be seen pressing around him and shaking him by the hand.
Austen got to his feet, his eyes again sought the gallery, whence he
believed he received a look of understanding from a face upon which
amusement seemed plainly written. She had turned to glance down at him,
despite the fact that Mrs. Pomfret was urging her to leave. Austen
started for the door, and managed to reach it long before his neighbours
had left the vicinity of their seats. Once in t