“How! You alarm me!”
“Nay, I did not mean to do that; and pray do not let him know that I went so far. But I have fancied that he looks a little worn and suffering.”
“Poor Audley!” said L’Estrange, in a tone of deep affection. “I will sound him, and, be assured, without naming you; for I know well how little he likes to be supposed capable of human infirmity. I am obliged to you for your hint, obliged to you for your interest in one so dear to me.”
And Harley’s voice was more cordial to Randal than it had ever been before. He then began to inquire what Randal thought of the rumours that had reached himself as to the probable defeat of the Government, and how far Audley’s spirits were affected by such risks. But Randal here, seeing that Harley could communicate nothing, was reserved and guarded.
“Loss of office could not, I think, affect a man like Audley,” observed Lord L’Estrange. “He would be as great in opposition—perhaps greater; and as to emoluments—”
“The emoluments are good,” interposed Randal, with a half-sigh.
“Good enough, I suppose, to pay him back about a tenth of what his place costs our magnificent friend. No, I will say one thing for English statesmen, no man amongst them ever yet was the richer for place.”
“And Mr. Egerton’s private fortune must be large, I take for granted,” said Randal, carelessly.
“It ought to be, if he has time to look to it.”
Here they passed by the hotel in which lodged the Count di Peschiera.