Audley went on without notice of the interruption. “There is a change in Harley,—to me and to all; a change, perhaps, not perceptible to others—but I have known him from a boy.”
“He is occupied for the first time with the practical business of life. That would account for a much greater change than you remark.”
“Do you see him familiarly, converse with him often?”
“No, and only on matters connected with the election. Occasionally, indeed, he consults me as to Randal Leslie, in whom, as your special protege, he takes considerable interest.”
“That, too, surprises me. Well, I am weary of perplexing myself. This place is hateful; after to-morrow I shall leave it, and breathe in peace. You have seen the reports of the canvass; I have had no heart to inspect them. Is the election as safe as they say?”
“If Avenel withdraws his nephew, and the votes thus released split off to you, you are secure.”
“And you think his nephew will be withdrawn? Poor young man! defeat at his age, and with such talents, is hard to bear.” Audley sighed.
“I must leave you now, if you have nothing important to say,” said the baron, rising. “I have much to do, as the election is yet to be won, and—to you the loss of it would be—”
“Ruin, I know. Well, Levy, it is, on the whole, to your advantage that I should not lose. There may be more to get from me yet. And, judging by the letters I received this morning, my position is rendered so safe by the absolute necessity of my party to keep me up, that the news of my pecuniary difficulties will not affect me so much as I once feared. Never was my career so free from obstacle, so clear towards the highest summit of ambition; never, in my day of ostentatious magnificence, as it is now, when I am prepared to shrink into a lodging, with a single servant.”
“I am glad to hear it; and I am the more anxious to secure your election, upon which this career must depend, because—nay, I hardly like to tell you—”