uffrage?"

"Gad, I believe it is quite a different sort of a thing. I do not know
what it is exactly; but I understand he is crotchetty."

"Well, that will not do for Peel. He does not like crotchetty men. Do
you see that, Egerton?"

At this moment, Mr Egerton and his friend were about to step over from
Trafalgar square to Charing Cross. They observed the carriages of Lady
St Julians and the Marchioness of Deloraine drawn up side by side in
the middle of the street, and those two eminent stateswomen in earnest
conversation. Egerton and Berners bowed and smiled, but could not hear
the brief but not uninteresting words that have nevertheless reached us.

"I give them eleven," said Lady St Julians.

"Well, Charles tells me," said Lady Deloraine, "that Sir Thomas says
so, and he certainly is generally right; but it is not Charles' own
opinion."

"Sir Thomas, I know, gives them eleven," said Lady St Julians; "and that
would satisfy me; and we will say eleven. But I have a list here," and
she slightly elevated her brow, and then glanced at Lady Deloraine with
a piquant air, "which proves that they cannot have more than nine; but
this is in the greatest confidence: of course between us there can be
no secrets. It is Mr Tadpole's list; nobody has seen it but me; not even
Sir Robert. Lord Grubminster has had a stroke: they are concealing
it, but Mr Tadpole has found it out. They wanted to pair him off with
Colonel Fantomme, who they think is dying: but Mr Tadpole has got a
Mesmerist who has done wonders for him, and who has guaranteed that he
shall vote. Well, that makes a difference of one."

"And then Sir Henry Churton--"

"Oh! you know it," said Lady St Julians, looking slightly mortified.
"Yes: he votes with us."

Lady Deloraine shook her head. "I think," she said, "I know the origin
of that report. Quite a mistake. He is in a bad humour, has been so the
whole session, and he was at Lady Alice Fermyne's, and did say all
sorts of things. All that is true. But he told Charles this morning on a
committee, that he should vote with the Government."

"Stupid man!" exclaimed Lady St Julians; "I never could bear him. And
I have sent his vulgar wife and great staring daughter a card for next
Wednesday! Well, I hope affairs will soon be brought to a crisis, for I
do not think I can bear much longer this life of perpetual sacrifice,"
added Lady St Julians a little out of temper, both because she had lost
a vote and found he