r or two M.P. for Barchester; having
been assisted in his views on that ancient city by all the de
Courcy interest. He was a Whig, of course. Not only had Barchester,
departing from the light of other days, returned a Whig member of
Parliament, but it was declared, that at the next election, now near
at hand, a Radical would be sent up, a man pledged to the ballot, to
economies of all sorts, one who would carry out Barchester politics
in all their abrupt, obnoxious, pestilent virulence. This was one
Scatcherd, a great railway contractor, a man who was a native of
Barchester, who had bought property in the neighbourhood, and who had
achieved a sort of popularity there and elsewhere by the violence of
his democratic opposition to the aristocracy. According to this man's
political tenets, the Conservatives should be laughed at as fools,
but the Whigs should be hated as knaves.

Mr Moffat was now coming down to Courcy Castle to look after his
electioneering interests, and Miss Gresham was to return with her
aunt to meet him. The countess was very anxious that Frank should
also accompany them. Her great doctrine, that he must marry money,
had been laid down with authority, and received without doubt. She
now pushed it further, and said that no time should be lost; that
he should not only marry money, but do so very early in life; there
was always danger in delay. The Greshams--of course she alluded only
to the males of the family--were foolishly soft-hearted; no one
could say what might happen. There was that Miss Thorne always at
Greshamsbury.

This was more than the Lady Arabella could stand. She protested
that there was at least no ground for supposing that Frank would
absolutely disgrace his family.

Still the countess persisted: "Perhaps not," she said; "but when
young people of perfectly different ranks were allowed to associate
together, there was no saying what danger might arise. They all knew
that old Mr Bateson--the present Mr Bateson's father--had gone off
with the governess; and young Mr Everbeery, near Taunton, had only
the other day married a cook-maid."

"But Mr Everbeery was always drunk, aunt," said Augusta, feeling
called upon to say something for her brother.

"Never mind, my dear; these things do happen, and they are very
dreadful."

"Horrible!" said the Lady Amelia; "diluting the best blood of the
country, and paving the way for revolutions." This was very grand;
but, nevertheless, Augusta coul