"Look here, aunt," said he, at this little dinner, "do you think I went into the House of Commons simply to get you places in the Ladies’ gallery and entertain you in the Ladies’ Dining-room?" "I consider that a very important part of your duties," said the young widow, promptly. "And I tell you this: when we come back from the Riviera, for the London season, I hope to be kept informed of everything that is going on—surely, with a husband in one House and a nephew in the other!" "But what I want to know is," said Lord Musselburgh on this same occasion, "what Vin is going to do about the taxation of ground rents. I think that is about the hardest luck I ever heard of. Here is a young man, who no sooner gets into Parliament than he is challenged to say whether he will support the taxation of ground rents; and lo and behold! every penny of his own fortune is invested in ground rents! Isn’t that hard? Other things don’t touch him. Welsh Disestablishment will neither put a penny in his pocket nor take one out; while he can make promises by the dozen about the abolition of the tea duty, extension of Factory Acts, triennial Parliaments, and all the rest of it. Besides, it isn’t only a question of money. He knows he has no more right to tax ground rents than to pillage a baker’s shop; he knows he oughtn’t to give the name of patriot to people who merely want to steal what doesn’t belong to them; and I suppose he has his own ideas about contracts guaranteed by law, and the danger of introducing the legislation of plunder. But what is he going to do? What are you going to do, Marcus Curtius? Jump in, and sacrifice yourself, money and principles and all?" "You are not one of my constituents," said Vincent, "and I decline to answer."