r
these attacks. He haughtily repeated his denial, and refused to answer
any more questions on the subject.

The local Tory paper rushed into the fray, and had presently collected a
good deal of what it was pleased to call evidence on the matter, mainly
gathered from London reporters. The matter began to look serious.
Marsham appealed to Barrington to contradict the rumor publicly, as
"absurd and untrue." But, unfortunately, Barrington, who was a man of
quick and gusty temper, had been nettled by an incautious expression of
Marsham's with regard to the famous article in his Dunscombe speech--"if
I had had any intention whatever of dealing a dishonorable blow at my
old friend and leader, I could have done it a good deal more
effectively, I can assure you; I should not have put what I had to say
in a form so confused and contradictory."

This--together with the general denial--happened to reach Barrington,
and it rankled. When, therefore, Marsham appealed to him, he
brusquely replied:

"DEAR MR. MARSHAM,--You know best what share you had in the
_Herald_ article. You certainly did not write it. But to my
mind it very faithfully reproduced the gist of our
conversation on a memorable evening. And, moreover, I believe
and still believe that you intended the reproduction. Believe
me, Yours faithfully, ERNEST BARRINGTON."

To this Marsham returned a stiff answer, giving his own account of what
had taken place, and regretting that even a keen journalist should have
thought it consistent with his honor to make such injurious and unfair
use of "my honest attempt to play the peacemaker" between the different
factions of the party.

To this letter Barrington made no reply. Marsham, sore and weary, yet
strung by now to an obstinacy and a fighting passion which gave a new
and remarkable energy to his personality, threw himself fresh into a
hopeless battle. For a time, indeed, the tide appeared to turn. He had
been through two Parliaments a popular and successful member; less
popular, no doubt, in the second than in the first, as the selfish and
bitter strains in his character became more apparent. Still he had
always commanded a strong personal following, especially among the
younger men of the towns and villages, who admired his lithe and
handsome presence, and appreciated his reputation as a sportsman and
volunteer. Lady Lucy's subscriptions, too, were an element in the matter
not to be despised.