Sir Robert too had thought so. Indeed, though he had invited the Lansdownes upon the principle, which even the heats attending the Reform Bill did not wholly abrogate, that family friendships were above party—he had been glad to think that he would not see the spoliators. The trespass was too recent, the robbery too gross! Ay, and the times too serious. Here they were, however; Lady Lansdowne, her daughter, and a small gentleman with a merry eye and curling locks. And Sir Robert repressed a sigh, and advanced four or five paces to meet them. But though he sighed, no one knew better what became a host; and his greeting was perfect. One of his bitterest flings at Bowood painted it as the common haunt of fiddlers and poets, actors and the like. But he received her ladyship’s escort, who was no other than Mr. Moore of Sloperton, and of the Irish Melodies, with the courtesy which he would have extended to an equal; nor when Lady Lansdowne sent her girl to take tea under the poet’s care did he let any sign of his reprobation appear. Those with whom he had been talking had withdrawn to leave him at liberty, and he found himself alone with Lady Lansdowne. “We leave for Berkeley Square to-morrow, for the Coronation on the 8th,” she said, playing with her fan in a way which would have betrayed to her intimates that she was not at ease. “I had many things to do this morning in view of our departure and I could not start early. You must accept our apologies, Sir Robert.” “It was gracious of your ladyship to come at all,” he said. “It was brave,” she replied, with a gleam of laughter in her eyes. “In fact, though I bear my lord’s warmest felicitations on this happy event, and wreathe them with mine, Sir Robert——” “I thank your ladyship and Lord Lansdowne,” he said formally. “I do not think that I should have ventured,” she continued with another glint of laughter, “did I not bear also an olive branch.” He bowed, but waited in silence for her explanation. “One of a—a rather delicate nature,” she said. “Am I permitted, Sir Robert, to—to speak in confidence?” He did not understand and he sought refuge in compliments. “Permitted?” he said, with the gallant bow of an old beau. “All things are permitted to so much——” “Hush!” she said. “But there! I will take you at your word. You know that the Bill—there is but one Bill now-a-days—is in Committee?” He frowned, disliking the subject. “I don’t think,” he said, “that any good can come of discussing it, Lady Lansdowne.” “I think it may,” she replied, with a confidence which she did not feel, “if you will hear me. It is whispered that there is a question in Committee of one of the doomed boroughs. One, I am told, Sir Robert, hangs between schedule A and schedule B; and that borough is Chippinge. Those who know whisper Lord Lansdowne that ultimately it will be plucked from the burning, and will be found in schedule B. Consequently it will retain one member.”