Mr. St. Quintin bowed in speechless gratification; at length he found voice. “But your principles, Mr. Pelham?”
“Quite your’s, my dear Sir: quite against anarchy and confusion.”
“But the catholic question, Mr. Pelham?”
“Oh! the catholic question,” repeated I, “is a question of great importance; it won’t be carried—no, Mr. St. Quintin, no, it won’t be carried; how did you think, my dear Sir, that I could, in so great a question, act against my conscience?”
I said this with warmth, and Mr. St. Quintin was either too convinced or too timid to pursue so dangerous a topic any further. I blessed my stars when he paused, and not giving him time to think of another piece of debateable ground, continued, “Yes, Mr. St. Quintin, I called upon you the very first person. Your rank in the county, your ancient birth, to be sure, demanded it; but I only considered the long, long time the St. Quintins and Pelhams had been connected.”
“Well,” said the Rev. Combermere, “well, Mr. Pelham, you shall have my support; and I wish, from my very heart, all success to a young gentleman of such excellent principles.”
CHAPTER XXXVI.
More voices!
Sic. How now, my masters, have you chosen him? Cit. He has our voices, Sir!—Coriolanus.