the part of the father and
grandfather to the needs of his own daughter and grandchild did not
in the least mitigate in the bosom of the Member of Parliament the
wrath which he felt at his own expulsion. It was not, as he said to
himself, the fact that he was expelled, but the coarseness of the
language used. "The truth is," he said to a friend in the House,
"that, though it was arranged I should remain there till after my
wife's confinement, I could not bear his language." It will probably
be acknowledged that the language was of a nature not to be borne.

When, therefore, Captain Batsby went down to the House on the day
of Tom's departure to see his counsellor he found Mr. Traffick full
rather of anger than of counsel. "Oh, yes," said the Member, walking
with the Captain up and down some of the lobbies, "I spoke to him,
and told him my mind very freely. When I say I'll do a thing, I
always do it. And as for Tringle, nobody knows him better than I. It
does not do to be afraid of him. There is a little bit of the cur
about him."

"What did he say?"

"He didn't like it. The truth is--. You know I don't mind speaking to
you openly."

"Oh, no," said Batsby.

"He thinks he ought to do as well with the second girl as he has
done with the first." Captain Batsby at this opened his eyes, but
he said nothing. Having a good income of his own, he thought much
of it. Not being the younger son of a lord, and not being a Member
of Parliament, he thought less of the advantages of those high
privileges. It did not suit him, however, to argue the question at
the present moment. "He is proud of his connection with our family,
and looks perhaps even more than he ought to do to a seat in the
House."

"I could get in myself if I cared for it," said Batsby.

"Very likely. It is more difficult than ever to find a seat just now.
A family connection of course does help one. I had to trust to that a
good deal before I was known myself."

"But what did Sir Thomas say?"

"He made himself uncommonly disagreeable;--I can tell you that. He
couldn't very well abuse me, but he wasn't very particular in what he
said about you. Of course he was cut up about the elopement. We all
felt it. Augusta was very much hurt. In her precarious state it was
so likely to do a mischief."

"It can't be undone now."

"No;--it can't be undone. But it makes one feel that you can't make
a demand for money as though you set about it in the other way. When