er for anything, I should, under the circumstances, feel perfectly
justified in speaking to the Duke on the subject myself, and,' added his
Grace, in a lowered tone, but with an expression of great earnestness
and determination, 'I flatter myself that if the Duke of Bellamont
chooses to express a wish, it would not be disregarded.'

Lord Montacute cast his dark, intelligent eyes upon the floor, and
seemed plunged in thought.

'Besides,' added the duke, after a moment's pause, and inferring, from
the silence of his son, that he was making an impression, 'suppose
Hungerford is not in the same humour this time three years which he is
in now. Probably he may be; possibly he may not. Men do not like to
be baulked when they think they are doing a very kind and generous and
magnanimous thing. Hungerford is not a warming-pan; we must remember
that; he never was originally, and if he had been, he has been member
for the county too long to be so considered now. I should be placed in
a most painful position, if, this time three years, I had to withdraw my
support from Hungerford, in order to secure your return.'

'There would be no necessity, under any circumstances, for that, my dear
father,' said Lord Montacute, looking up, and speaking in a voice which,
though somewhat low, was of that organ that at once arrests attention; a
voice that comes alike from the brain and from the heart, and seems made
to convey both profound thought and deep emotion. There is no index of
character so sure as the voice. There are tones, tones brilliant and
gushing, which impart a quick and pathetic sensibility: there are others
that, deep and yet calm, seem the just interpreters of a serene and
exalted intellect. But the rarest and the most precious of all voices
is that which combines passion and repose; and whose rich and restrained
tones exercise, perhaps, on the human frame a stronger spell than even
the fascination of the eye, or that bewitching influence of the hand,
which is the privilege of the higher races of Asia.

'There would be no necessity, under any circumstances, for that, my dear
father,' said Lord Montacute, 'for, to be frank, I believe I should feel
as little disposed to enter Parliament three years hence as now.'

The duke looked still more surprised. 'Mr. Fox was not of age when he
took his seat,' said his Grace. 'You know how old Mr. Pitt was when
he was a minister. Sir Robert, too, was in harness very early. I have
always h