"Stand back, gentlemen, stand back; back a little, if you please, sir," said a very courteous but peremptory policeman, so moving the throng that Herbert, who had been behind, in no way anxious for a forward place, or for distinguishing nods from passing members, found himself suddenly in the front rank, in the immediate neighbourhood of a cluster of young senators who were cooling themselves in the lobby after the ardour of the debate.
"It was as pretty a thing as ever I saw in my life," said one, "and beautifully ridden." Surely it must have been the Spring Meeting and not the debate that they were discussing.
"I don't know much about that," said another, and the voice sounded on Herbert's ears as it might almost be the voice of a brother. "I know I lost the odds. But I'll have a bottle of soda-water. Hallo, Fitzgerald! Why—;" and then the young member stopped himself, for Herbert Fitzgerald's story was rife about London at this time.
"How do you do, Moulsey?" said Herbert, very glumly, for he did not at all like being recognized. This was Lord Moulsey, the eldest son of the Earl of Hampton Court, who was now member for the River Regions, and had been one of Herbert's most intimate friends at Oxford.
"I did not exactly expect to see you here," said Lord Moulsey, drawing him apart. "And upon my soul I was never so cut up in my life as when I heard all that. Is it true?"
"True! why no;—it was true, but I don't think it is. That is to say—upon my word I don't know. It's all unsettled—Good evening to you." And again nodding his head at his old friend in a very sombre manner, he skulked off and made his way out of Westminster Hall.
"Do you know who that was?" said Lord Moulsey going back to his ally. "That was young Fitzgerald, the poor fellow who has been done out of his title and all his property. You have heard about his mother, haven't you?"
"Was that young Fitzgerald?" said the other senator, apparently more interested in this subject than he had even been about the pretty riding. "I wish I'd looked at him. Poor fellow! How does he bear it?"
"Upon my word then, I never saw a fellow so changed in my life. He and I were like brothers, but he would hardly speak to me. Perhaps I ought to have written to him. But he says it's not settled."
"Oh, that's all gammon. It's settled enough. Why they've given up the place. I heard all about it the other day from Sullivan O'Leary. They are not even making any fight. Sullivan O'Leary says they are the greatest fools in the world."