“Were to stand--that is true--and it will be difficult to manage my uncle; but he loves me much--you know I am his heir--I believe I could do it; that is, if you think it would be _a very great advantage_ to the party, and _a very great service_ to the government.” “Why, Mr. Ferrers, it would indeed be both.” “And in that case I could have Three-Oaks.” “I see--exactly so; but to give up so respectable a seat--really it is a sacrifice.” “Say no more, it shall be done. A deputation shall wait on Lord Staunch directly. I will see my uncle, and a despatch shall be sent down to C------ to-night; at least, I hope so. I must not be too confident. My uncle is an old man, nobody but myself can manage him; I’ll go this instant.” “You may be sure your kindness will be duly appreciated.” Lumley shook hands cordially with the secretary and retired. The secretary was not “humbugged,” nor did Lumley expect he should be. But the secretary noted this of Lumley Ferrers (and that gentleman’s object was gained), that Lumley Ferrers was a man who looked out for office, and if he did tolerably well in parliament, that Lumley Ferrers was a man who ought to be _pushed_. Very shortly afterwards the _Gazette_ announced the election of Lord Staunch for C------, after a sharp but decisive contest. The ministerial journals rang with exulting paeans; the opposition ones called the electors of C------ all manner of hard names, and declared that Mr. Stout, Lord Staunch’s opponent, would petition--which he never did. In the midst of the hubbub, Mr. Lumley Ferrers quietly and unobservedly crept into the representation of Three-Oaks. On the night of his election he went to Lord Saxingham’s; but what there happened deserves another chapter. CHAPTER IV. “Je connois des princes du sang, des princes etrangers, des grands seigneurs, des ministres d’etat, des magistrats, et des philosophes qui fileroient pour l’amour de vous. En pouvez-vous demander davantage?” * _Lettres de Madame de Sevigne_ * I know princes of the blood, foreign princes, great lords, ministers of state, magistrates, and philosophers who would even spin for love of you. What can you ask more? “_Lindore._ I--I believe it will choke me. I’m in love * * * Now hold your tongue. Hold your tongue, I say. “_Dalner._ You in love! Ha! ha! “_Lind._ There, he laughs. “_Dal._ No; I am really sorry for you.” _German Play (False Delicacy)_. * * * “What is here? Gold.”--SHAKSPEARE.