Amidst all this din and confusion, the candidate for the borough of Buyemall was ushered into the household privacy of the genteel Mr. and Mrs. St. Quintin. Up started the lady at the sound of my name. The Reverend Combermere St. Quintin seemed frozen into stone. The plate between the youngest child and the blackberry-pudding, stood as still as the sun in Ajalon. The morsel between the mouth of the elder boy and his fork had a respite from mastication. The Seven Sleepers could not have been spell-bound more suddenly and completely. "Ah!" cried I, advancing eagerly, with an air of serious and yet abrupt gladness; "how deuced lucky that I should find you all at luncheon. I was up and had finished breakfast so early this morning, that I am half famished. Only think how fortunate, Hardy (turning round to one of the members of my committee, who accompanied me); I was just saying what would I not give to find Mr. St. Quintin at luncheon. Will you allow me, Madam, to make one of your party?" Mrs. St. Quintin coloured, and faltered, and muttered out something which I was fully resolved not to hear. I took a chair, looked round the table, not too attentively, and said--"Cold veal; ah! ah! nothing I like so much. May I trouble you, Mr. St. Quintin?--Hollo, my little man, let's see if you can't give me a potatoe. There's a brave fellow. How old are you, my young hero?--to look at your mother, I should say two; to look at you, six." "He is four next May," said his mother, colouring, and this time not painfully. "Indeed!" said I, surveying him earnestly; and then, in a graver tone, I turned to the Reverend Combermere with--"I think you have a branch of your family still settled in France. I met Monsieur St. Quintin, the Due de Poictiers, abroad." "Yes," said Mr. Combermere, "yes, the name is still in Normandy, but I was not aware of the title." "No!" said I, with surprise; "and yet (with another look at the boy), it is astonishing how long family likenesses last. I was a great favourite with all the Duc's children. Do you know, I must trouble you for some more veal, it is so very good, and I am so very hungry." "How long have you been abroad?" said Mrs. St. Quintin, who had slipped off her bib, and smoothed her ringlets; for which purposes I had been most adroitly looking in an opposite direction the last three minutes. "About seven or eight months. The fact is, that the continent only does for us English people to see--not to inhabit; and yet, there are some advantages there, Mr. St. Quintin!--Among others, that of the due respect ancient birth is held in. Here, you know, 'money makes the man,' as the vulgar proverb has it."