“It may be so. I don’t know anything about it.”
“And then it is a great honour.”
“That depends on how you get it, and how you use it;—very much also on whether you are fit for it.”
“I shall get it honestly if I do get it. I hope I may use it well. And as for my fitness, I must leave that to be ascertained when I am there. I am sorry to say there will probably be a contest.”
“I suppose so. A seat in Parliament without a contest does not drop into every young man’s mouth.”
“It very nearly dropped into mine.” Then he told his father-in-law almost all the particulars of the offer which had been made him, and of the manner in which the seat was now suggested to him. He somewhat hesitated in the use of the name of the Duchess, leaving an impression on Mr. Wharton that the offer had in truth come from the Duke. “Should there be a contest, would you help me?”
“In what way? I could not canvass at Silverbridge, if you mean that.”
“I was not thinking of giving you personal trouble.”
“I don’t know a soul in the place. I shouldn’t know that there was such a place except that it returns a member of Parliament.”
“I meant with money, sir.”
“To pay the election bills! No; certainly not. Why should I?”
“For Emily’s sake.”
“I don’t think it would do Emily any good, or you either. It would certainly do me none. It is a kind of luxury that a man should not attempt to enjoy unless he can afford it easily.”
“A luxury!”
“Yes, a luxury; just as much as a four-in-hand coach or a yacht. Men go into Parliament because it gives them fashion, position, and power.”
“I should go to serve my country.”
“Success in your profession I thought you said was your object. Of course you must do as you please. If you ask me for advice, I advise you not to try it. But certainly I will not help you with money. That ass Everett is quarrelling with me at this moment because I won’t give him money to go and stand somewhere.”
“Not at Silverbridge!”
“I’m sure I can’t say. But don’t let me do him an injury. To give him his due, he is more reasonable than you, and only wants a promise from me that I will pay electioneering bills for him at the next general election. I have refused him—though for reasons which I need not mention I think him better fitted for Parliament than you. I must certainly also refuse you. I cannot imagine any circumstances which would induce me to pay a shilling towards getting you into Parliament. If you won’t drink any more wine, we’ll join Emily upstairs.”
This had been very plain speaking, and by no means comfortable to Lopez. What of personal discourtesy there had been in the lawyer’s words—and they had not certainly been flattering—he could throw off from him as meaning nothing. As he could not afford to quarrel with his father-in-law, he thought it probable that he might have to bear a good deal of incivility from the old man. He was quite prepared to bear it as long as he could see a chance of a reward;—though, should there be no such chance, he would be ready to avenge it. But there had been a decision in the present refusal which made him quite sure that it would be vain to repeat his request. “I shall find out, sir,” he said, “whether it may probably be a costly affair, and if so I shall give it up. You are rather hard upon me as to my motives.”
“I only repeated what you told me yourself.”
“I am quite sure of my own intentions, and know that I need not be ashamed of them.”
“Not if you have plenty of money. It all depends on that. If you have plenty of money, and your fancy goes that way, it is all very well. Come, we’ll go upstairs.”
The next day he saw Everett Wharton, who welcomed him back with warm affection. “He’ll do nothing for me;—nothing at all. I am almost beginning to doubt whether he’ll ever speak to me again.”
“Nonsense!”
“I tell you everything, you know,” said Everett. “In January I lost a little money at whist. They got plunging at the club, and I was in it. I had to tell him, of course. He keeps me so short that I can’t stand any blow without going to him like a schoolboy.”
“Was it much?”
“No;—to him no more than half-a-crown to you. I had to ask him for a hundred and fifty.”
“He refused it!”
“No;—he didn’t do that. Had it been ten times as much, if I owed the money, he would pay it. But he blew me up, and talked about gambling—and—and—”
“I should have taken that as a matter of course.”
“But I’m not a gambler. A man now and then may fall into a thing of that kind, and if he’s decently well off and don’t do it often, he can bear it.”
“I thought your quarrel had been altogether about Parliament.”
“Oh no! He has been always the same about that. He told me that I was going head foremost to the dogs, and I couldn’t stand that. I shouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t lost more at cards than I have during the last two years.” Lopez made an offer to act as go-between, to effect a reconciliation; but Everett declined the offer. “It would be making too much of an absurdity,” he said. “When he wants to see me, I suppose he’ll send for me.”
Lopez did dispatch an agent down to Mr. Sprugeon at Silverbridge, and the agent found that Mr. Sprugeon was a very discreet man. Mr. Sprugeon at first
