Forester bowed,--partly in pretended acquiescence of this speech, partly to conceal a deep flush that mounted suddenly to his cheek; for he felt by no means pleased at a remark that might be held to reflect on his political knowledge. “Be thou the judge, then,” said Lady Eleanor. “And, first of all, read that letter.” And she took from her work-box her cousin Lord Netherby's letter, and handed it to Forester. “I reserve my right to dispute that document being evidence,” said Helen, laughing; “nor is there any proof of the handwriting being Lord Netherby's. Mamma herself acknowledges she has not heard from him for nearly twenty years.” This cunning speech, meant to intimate the precise relation of the two parties, was understood at once by Forester, who could with difficulty control a smile, although Lady Eleanor looked far from pleased. There was now a pause, while Forester read over the long letter with due attention, somewhat puzzled to conceive to what particular portion of it the matter in dispute referred. “You have not read the postscript,” said Helen, as she saw him folding the letter, without remarking the few concluding lines. Forester twice read over the passage alluded to, and at once whatever had been mysterious or difficult was revealed before him. Lord Netherby's wily temptation was made manifest, not the less palpably, perhaps, because the reader was himself involved in the very same scheme. “You have now seen my cousin's letter,” said Lady Eleanor, “and the whole question is whether the reply should be limited to a suitable acknowledgment of its kind expressions, and a grateful sense of the Prince's condescension, or should convey--” “Mamma means,” interrupted Helen, laughingly,--“Mamma means, that we might also avow our sincere gratitude for the rich temptation offered in requital of my father's vote on the 'nion.'” “No minister would dare to make such a proposition to the Knight of Gwynne,” said Lady Eleanor, haughtily. “Ministers are very enterprising nowadays, Mamma,” rejoined Helen; “I have never heard any one speak of Mr. Pitt's cowardice, and Lord Castlereagh has had courage to invite old Mr. Hickman to dinner!” Forester would gladly have acknowledged his relationship to the Secretary, but the moment seemed unpropitious, and the avowal would have had the semblance of a rebuke; so he covered his confusion by a laugh, and said nothing. “We can scarcely contemn the hardihood of a Government that has made Crofton a bishop, and Hawes a general,” said Helen, with a flashing eye and a lip curled in superciliousness. “Nothing short of a profound reliance on the piety of the Church and the bravery of the Army would support such a policy as that!” Lady Eleanor seemed provoked at the hardy tone of Helen's speech; but the mother's look was proud, as she gazed on the brilliant expression of her daughter's beauty, now heightened by the excitement of the moment.