Simmons. Ask him if he belongs to
the county."

"Yes, Sir."

"A great estate is a great plague," muttered Mr. Beaufort; "so is a
great constituency. It is pleasanter, after all, to be in the House of
Lords. I suppose I could if I wished; but then one must rat--that's a
bore. I will consult Lilburne. Humph!"

The servant re-appeared. "Sir, he says he does belong to the county."

"Show him in!--What sort of a person?"

"A sort of gentleman, sir; that is," continued the butler, mindful of
five shillings just slipped within his palm by the stranger, "quite the
gentleman."

"More wine, then-stir up the fire."

In a few moments the visitor was ushered into the apartment. He was
a man between fifty and sixty, but still aiming at the appearance of
youth. His dress evinced military pretensions; consisting of a blue
coat, buttoned up to the chin, a black stock, loose trousers of the
fashion called Cossacks, and brass spurs. He wore a wig, of great
luxuriance in curl and rich auburn in hue; with large whiskers of the
same colour slightly tinged with grey at the roots. By the imperfect
light of the room it was not perceptible that the clothes were somewhat
threadbare, and that the boots, cracked at the side, admitted glimpses
of no very white hosiery within. Mr. Beaufort, reluctantly rising from
his repose and gladly sinking back to it, motioned to a chair, and put
on a doleful and doubtful semi-smile of welcome. The servant placed the
wine and glasses before the stranger;--the host and visitor were alone.

"So, sir," said Mr. Beaufort, languidly, "you are from ------shire; I
suppose about the canal,--may I offer you a glass of wine?"

"Most hauppy, sir--your health!" and the stranger, with evident
satisfaction, tossed off a bumper to so complimentary a toast.

"About the canal?" repeated Mr. Beaufort.

"No, sir, no! You parliament gentlemen must hauve a vaust deal of
trouble on your haunds--very foine property I understaund yours is, sir.
Sir, allow me to drink the health of your good lady!"

"I thank you, Mr.--, Mr.--, what did you say your name was?--I beg you a
thousand pardons."

"No offaunce in the least, sir; no ceremony with me--this is perticler
good madeira!"

"May I ask how I can serve you?" said Mr. Beaufort, struggling between
the sense of annoyance and the fear to be uncivil. "And pray, had I the
honour of your vote in the last election!"

"No, sir, no! It's mauny years since I have been in your par