to do a little political business with the lately-rejected member for
the Chelsea Districts.

Vavasor had been, as I have said, lately rejected, and the new member
who had beaten him at the hustings had sat now for one session in
parliament. Under his present reign he was destined to the honour of
one other session, and then the period of his existing glory,--for
which he was said to have paid nearly six thousand pounds,--would be
over. But he might be elected again, perhaps for a full period of six
sessions; and it might be hoped that this second election would be
conducted on more economical principles. To this, the economical view
of the matter, Mr Grimes was very much opposed, and was now waiting
upon George Vavasor in Cecil Street, chiefly with the object of
opposing the new member's wishes on this head. No doubt Mr Grimes was
personally an advocate for the return of Mr Vavasor, and would do all
in his power to prevent the re-election of the young Lord Kilfenora,
whose father, the Marquis of Bunratty, had scattered that six
thousand pounds among the electors and non-electors of Chelsea; but
his main object was that money should be spent. "'Tain't altogether
for myself," he said to a confidential friend in the same way of
business; "I don't get so much on it. Perhaps sometimes not none. May
be I've a bill agin some of those gents not paid this werry moment.
But it's the game I looks to. If the game dies away, it'll never be
got up again;--never. Who'll care about elections then? Anybody'd go
and get hisself elected if we was to let the game go by!" And so,
that the game might not go by, Mr Grimes was now present in Mr George
Vavasor's rooms.

"Well Mr Grimes," said George, "how are you this morning? Sit down, Mr
Grimes. If every man were as punctual as you are, the world would go
like clock-work; wouldn't it?"

"Business is business, Mr Vavasor," said the publican, after having
made his salute, and having taken his chair with some little show of
mock modesty. "That's my maxim. If I didn't stick to that, nothing
wouldn't ever stick to me; and nothing doesn't much as it is. Times
is very bad, Mr Vavasor."

"Of course they are. They're always bad. What was the Devil made
for, except that they should be bad? But I should have thought you
publicans were the last men who ought to complain."

"Lord love you, Mr Vavasor; why, I suppose of all the men as is put
upon, we're put upon the worst. What's the good of drawin