as now skulking from the law?

And then he went on, and mounting by the public stairs and anterooms
found his way to the lobby of the house. There he stood with his back
to the ginger-beer stall, moody and melancholy, looking on as men in
the crowd pushed forward to speak to members whom they knew; or, as
it sometimes appeared, to members whom they did not know. There was
somewhat of interest going on in the house, for the throng was thick,
and ordinary men sometimes jostled themselves on into the middle of
the hall--with impious steps; for on those centre stones none but
legislators should presume to stand.

"Stand back, gentlemen, stand back; back a little, if you please,
sir," said a very courteous but peremptory policeman, so moving the
throng that Herbert, who had been behind, in no way anxious for a
forward place, or for distinguishing nods from passing members, found
himself suddenly in the front rank, in the immediate neighbourhood of
a cluster of young senators who were cooling themselves in the lobby
after the ardour of the debate.

"It was as pretty a thing as ever I saw in my life," said one, "and
beautifully ridden." Surely it must have been the Spring Meeting and
not the debate that they were discussing.

"I don't know much about that," said another, and the voice sounded
on Herbert's ears as it might almost be the voice of a brother. "I
know I lost the odds. But I'll have a bottle of soda-water. Hallo,
Fitzgerald! Why--;" and then the young member stopped himself, for
Herbert Fitzgerald's story was rife about London at this time.

"How do you do, Moulsey?" said Herbert, very glumly, for he did not
at all like being recognized. This was Lord Moulsey, the eldest
son of the Earl of Hampton Court, who was now member for the River
Regions, and had been one of Herbert's most intimate friends at
Oxford.

"I did not exactly expect to see you here," said Lord Moulsey,
drawing him apart. "And upon my soul I was never so cut up in my life
as when I heard all that. Is it true?"

"True! why no;--it was true, but I don't think it is. That is to
say--upon my word I don't know. It's all unsettled--Good evening to
you." And again nodding his head at his old friend in a very sombre
manner, he skulked off and made his way out of Westminster Hall.

"Do you know who that was?" said Lord Moulsey going back to his ally.
"That was young Fitzgerald, the poor fellow who has been done out
of his title and all his property