dinand, in a voice of toleration, "we are at least
as sure of him as ever."

The allowance in the young man's manner exasperated the old nobleman.
But he liked his young friend in spite of his insolence and tranquil
swagger, and he dreaded to say something which might be too strong for
the occasion.

"We will talk this question over at another time," he said, controlling
himself; "we will talk it over after dinner."

"I must go vote-catching after dinner," returned Ferdinand. "I promised
to go and listen to the quartette party this evening."

"Very well," returned his lordship, with a sudden frostiness of manner.
"I shall dine alone. Good-evening."

He marched away, the senile nodding of his head accentuated into
pettishness; and Ferdinand stood looking after him for a second or two
with a smile, but presently thinking better of it, he hastened after the
angry old man and overtook him.

"I am sorry, sir, if I disappoint you," he said. "I don't want to do
that, and I won't do it if I can help it." The earl said nothing, but
walked on with an injured air which was almost feminine. "Are you angry
at my proposing to go to see old Fuller? I understood you to say
yesterday that his vote was undecided, and that nothing was so likely
to catch him as a little interest in his musical pursuits."

"I have no objections to offer to your proposal," replied his lordship,
frostily--"none whatever."

"I am glad to hear that, sir," said Ferdinand, with rather more dryness
than was needed. His lordship walked on again, and the young man
lingered behind.

The household ways at the Hall were simple, and the hours kept there
were early. It was not yet seven o'clock when Ferdinand, having already
eaten his lonely dinner, strolled down the drive, cigar in month, bound
for old Fuller's garden. He thought less of electioneering and less
of music than of the pretty girl he had discovered yesterday. She
interested him a little, and piqued him a little. Without being
altogether a puppy, he was well aware of his own advantages of person,
and was accustomed to attribute to them a fair amount of his own social
successes. He was heir to a baronetcy and to the estates that went with
it. It was impossible in the course of nature that he should be long
kept out of these desirable possessions, for the present baronet was his
grandfather, and had long passed the ordinary limits of old age. The old
man had outlived his own immediate natural heir,