“All night,” answered Edgar. “We were among the three hundred members from the Commons who filled the space around the throne, and stood in a row three deep below the bar. I was in the second row; but I heard all that passed very well. Earl Grey did not begin to speak until five o’clock this morning, and he spoke for an hour and a half. It was an astonishing argument.”
“It was a most interesting scene, altogether,” said Piers. “I shall never forget it. The crowded house, its still and solemn demeanour, and the broad daylight coming in at the high windows while Grey was speaking. Its blue beams mixed with the red of the flaring candles, and the two lights made strange and startling effects on the crimson draperies and the dusky tapestries on the walls. I felt as if I was in a vision. I kept thinking of Cromwell and old forgotten things; and it was like waking out of a dream when the House began to dissolve. I was not quite myself until I had drunk a cup of coffee.”
“It was very exciting,” said the more practical Edgar; “and the small majority is only to keep the people quiet. At the next reading the Bill will be so mutilated as to be practically rejected, unless we are ready to meet such an emergency.”
Piers rose at these words. He foresaw a discussion he had no mind for; and he said, with a touching pathos in his voice, as he laid his hand on the Squire’s shoulder, “Give my remembrance to the ladies at Atheling,–my heart’s love, if you will take it.”
“I will take all I may, Piers. Good-bye! You have been a great comfort to me. I am sure I don’t know what I should have done without you; for Edgar, you see, is too busy for anything.”
“Never too busy to be with you, if you need me, Father. But you are such a host in yourself, and I never imagined you required help of any kind.”
“Only a bit of company now and then. You were about graver business. It suited Piers and me to sit idle and say a word or two about Atheling. Come down to Exham, Piers, do; it will be good for you.”
“No, I should be heart-sick for Atheling. I am better away.”
The Squire nodded gravely, and was silent; and Piers passed quietly out of the room. His listless serenity, and rather drawling speech, always irritated the alert Edgar; and he sighed with relief when he was rid of the restraining influence of a nature so opposite to his own.
“So you are going to Atheling, Father?” he said. “How?”