ould not have
deserved success. Then Mr. Mildmay made his reply, getting up at
about three o'clock, and uttered a prayer,--a futile prayer,--that
this his last work on behalf of his countrymen might be successful.
His bill was read a second time, as I have said before, in obedience
to the casting vote of the Speaker,--but a majority such as that was
tantamount to a defeat.

There was, of course, on that night no declaration as to what
ministers would do. Without a meeting of the Cabinet, and without
some further consideration, though each might know that the bill
would be withdrawn, they could not say in what way they would act.
But late as was the hour, there were many words on the subject before
members were in their beds. Mr. Turnbull and Mr. Monk left the House
together, and perhaps no two gentlemen in it had in former sessions
been more in the habit of walking home arm-in-arm and discussing what
each had heard and what each had said in that assembly. Latterly
these two men had gone strangely asunder in their paths,--very
strangely for men who had for years walked so closely together. And
this separation had been marked by violent words spoken against each
other,--by violent words, at least, spoken against him in office by
the one who had never contaminated his hands by the Queen's shilling.
And yet, on such an occasion as this, they were able to walk away
from the House arm-in-arm, and did not fly at each other's throat by
the way.

"Singular enough, is it not," said Mr. Turnbull, "that the thing
should have been so close?"

"Very odd," said Mr. Monk; "but men have said that it would be so all
the week."

"Gresham was very fine," said Mr. Turnbull.

"Very fine, indeed. I never have heard anything like it before."

"Daubeny was very powerful too," said Mr. Turnbull.

"Yes;--no doubt. The occasion was great, and he answered to the spur.
But Gresham's was the speech of the debate."

"Well;--yes; perhaps it was," said Mr. Turnbull, who was thinking of
his own flight the other night, and who among his special friends had
been much praised for what he had then done. But of course he made
no allusion to his own doings,--or to those of Mr. Monk. In this way
they conversed for some twenty minutes, till they parted; but neither
of them interrogated the other as to what either might be called upon
to do in consequence of the division which had just been effected.
They might still be intimate friends, but the days o