"He is acquainted with the count's kinsman; and perhaps from him you have learned to think so highly of that kinsman?"
The prince bowed, and answered as he moved away, "When one man of high honour vouches for another, he commands the belief of all."
"Certainly," soliloquized Randal, "I must not be precipitate. I was very near falling into a terrible trap. If I were to marry the girl, and only, by so doing, settle away her inheritance on Peschiera!—how hard it is to be sufficiently cautious in this world!"
While thus meditating, a member of parliament tapped him on the shoulder.
"Melancholy, Leslie! I lay a wager I guess your thoughts."
"Guess," answered Randal.
"You were thinking of the place you are so soon to lose."
"Soon to lose!"
"Why, if ministers go out, you could hardly keep it, I suppose."
This ominous and horrid member of parliament, Squire Hazeldean's favourite county member, Sir John, was one of those legislators especially odious to officials,—an independent "large-acred" member, who would no more take office himself than he would cut down the oaks in his park, and who had no bowels of human feeling for those who had opposite tastes and less magnificent means.