ou! delightful, I am sure!" "I really was quite overcome;"
"Excellent;" "So much obliged," are rapid phrases heard amongst the
polite on the platform. While down below, "Yaw! quite enough of that;"
"Mary Jane, cover your throat up, and don't kitch cold, and don't push
me, please, sir;" "Arry! coom along and ave a pint a ale," etc., are the
remarks heard, or perhaps not heard, by Clive Newcome, as he watches at
the private entrance of the Athenaeum, where Sir Barnes's carriage is
waiting with its flaming lamps, and domestics in state liveries. One of
them comes out of the building bearing the little girl in his arms, and
lays her in the carriage. Then Sir Barnes, and Lady Anne, and the Mayor;
then Ethel issues forth, and as she passes under the lamps, beholds
Clive's face as pale and sad as her own.

Shall we go visit the lodge-gates of Newcome Park the moon shining on
their carving? Is there any pleasure in walking by miles of grey paling,
and endless palisades of firs? Oh, you fool, what do you hope to see
behind that curtain? Absurd fugitive, whither would you run? Can you
burst the tether of fate: and is not poor dear little Rosey Mackenzie
sitting yonder waiting for you by the stake? Go home, sir; and don't
catch cold. So Mr. Clive returns to the King's Arms, and goes up to his
bedroom, and he hears Mr. F. Bayham's deep voice as he passes by the
Boscawen Room, where the Jolly Britons are as usual assembled.

CHAPTER LXVII. Newcome and Liberty

We have said that the Baronet's lecture was discussed in the midnight
senate assembled at the King's Arms, where Mr. Tom Potts showed the
orator no mercy. The senate of the King's Arms was hostile to Sir Barnes
Newcome. Many other Newcomites besides were savage and inclined to
revolt against the representative of their borough. As these patriots
met over their cups, and over the bumper of friendship uttered the
sentiments of freedom, they had often asked of one another, where should
a man be found to rid Newcome of its dictator? Generous hearts writhed
under the oppression: patriotic eyes scowled when Barnes Newcome went
by: with fine satire, Tom Potts at Brown the hatter's shop, who made
the hats for Sir Barnes Newcome's domestics, proposed to take one of the
beavers--a gold-laced one with a cockade and a cord--and set it up in
the market-place and bid all Newcome come bow to it, as to the hat of
Gessler. "Don't you think, Potts," says F. Bayham, who of course was
a