, and it is a long drive to
Norton Bury. Sir Ralph, might we hope for the honour of your company?
No? Good day, my friends. Mr. Halifax, your servant."

"One word, my lord. Those workmen of mine, who are your tenants--I am
aware what usually results when tenants in arrear vote against their
landlords--if, without taking any harsher measures, your agent will be
so kind as to apply to me for the rent--"

"Sir, my agent will use his own discretion."

"Then I rely on your lordship's kindliness--your sense of honour."

"Honour is only spoken of between equals," said the earl, haughtily.
"But on one thing Mr. Halifax may always rely--my excellent memory."

With a smile and bow as perfect as if he were victoriously quitting the
field, Lord Luxmore departed. Soon not one remained of all those who
had filled the church and churchyard, making there a tumult that is
chronicled to this very day by some ancient villagers, who still think
themselves greatly ill-used because the Reform Act has blotted out of
the list of English boroughs the "loyal and independent" borough of
Kingswell.

Sir Ralph Oldtower stood a good while talking with John; and finally,
having sent his carriage on, walked with him down Kingswell Hill
towards the manor-house. I, riding alongside, caught fragments of
their conversation.

"What you say is all true, Mr. Halifax; and you say it well. But what
can we do? Our English constitution is perfect--that is, as perfect as
anything human can be. Yet corruptions will arise; we regret, we even
blame--but we cannot remove them. It is impossible."

"Do you think, Sir Ralph, that the Maker of this world--which, so far
as we can see, He means like all other of His creations gradually to
advance toward perfection--do you think He would justify us in
pronouncing any good work therein 'impossible'?"

"You talk like a young man," said the baronet, half sadly. "Coming
years will show you the world and the ways of it in a clearer light."

"I earnestly hope so."

Sir Ralph glanced sideways at him--perhaps with a sort of envy of the
very youth which he thus charitably excused as a thing to be allowed
for till riper wisdom came. Something might have smote the old man
with a conviction, that in this youth was strength and life, the spirit
of the new generation then arising, before which the old worn-out
generation would crumble into its natural dust. Dust of the dead ages,
honourable dust, to be reverentl