“I rather suspect he is, Master Kellett. I was trained in another school,--brought up amongst fellows would skin a cat, by Jove! What I say is, let A. B. have a chance,--just let him in once, and see if he won't do the thing!” “Do you wish to be in Parliament, Mr. Beecher?” asked Bella, with a smile of half-repressed drollery. “Of course I do. First, there's the protection,--no bad thing as times go; then it would be uncommon strange if I could n't 'tool the coach into the yard' safely. They 'd have to give me a devilish good thing. You 'd see what a thorn I 'd be in their sides. Ask Grog Davis what kind of fellow I am; he 'll tell you if I 'm easily put down. But Lackington is a fool; he can't see the road before him!” “You reckon, then, on being a debater!” said she, quietly. “A little of everything, Miss Bella,” said he, laughing; “like the modern painters, not particular for a shade or two. I 'd not go wasting my time with that old Tory lot,--they're all worked ont, aged and weighted, as John Scott would call them--I'd go in with the young uns,--the Manchester two-year-olds, universal--what d'ye call it?--and vote by ballot. They 're the fellows have 'the tin,' by Jove! they have.” “Then I scarcely see how Lord Lackington would advance his family influence by promoting your views,” said she, again. “To be sure he would. It would be the safest hedge in the world for him. He 'd square his book by it, and stand to win, no matter what horse came in. Besides, why should they buy me, if I was n't against them? You don't nobble the horse in your own stable,--eh, Kellett, old boy?” “You're a wonderful fellow, Beecher!” said Kellett, in a most honest admiration of his friend. “If they'd only give me a chance, Paul,--just one chance!” It was not very easy to see what blot in the game of life he purposed to himself to “hit” when he used this expression, “if they only give me a chance;” vague and indistinct as it was, still for many a year had it served him as a beacon of hope. A shadow vision of creditors “done,” horses “nobbled,” awkward testimonies “squared,” a millenary period of bills easily discounted, with an indulgent Angel presiding over the Bankrupt Court,--these and like blessings doubtless all flitted before him as the fruits of that same “chance” which destiny held yet in store for him. Hope is a generous fairy; she deigns to sit beside the humblest firesides,--she will linger even in the damp cell of the prison, or rest her wings on the wave-tossed raft of the shipwrecked, and in such mission is she thrice blessed! But by what strange caprice does she visit the hearts of men like this? Perhaps it is that the very spirit of her ministering is to despair of nothing.