“Indeed, I suppose it is!” said Kellett, not very clear as to what he concurred in.
“There are few fellows, let me tell you, would be as light-hearted as I am, with four writs and a judge's warrant hanging over them,—eh, Miss Bella, what do you say to that?” said Beecher.
She smiled half sadly and said nothing.
“Ask John Scott,—ask Bicknell Morris, or any of the 'Legs' you like,—if there's a man of them all ever bore up like me. 'Beecher's a bar of iron,' they 'll tell you; 'that fellow can bear any amount of hammering.' and maybe I have n't had it! And all Lackington's fault!”
“That's the worst of all!” said Kellett, who had listened to the same accusation in the self-same words at least a hundred times before.
“Lackington is the greatest fool going! He does n't see the advantage of pushing his family influence. He might have had me in for 'Mallow.' Grog Davis said to him one day, 'Look now, my Lord, Annesley is the best horse in your stable, if you 'd only stand to win on him, he is!' But Lackington would not hear of it. He thinks me a flat! You won't believe it, but he does!”
“Faith! he's wrong there,” said Kellett, with all the emphasis of sincerity.
“I rather suspect he is, Master Kellett. I was trained in another school,—brought up amongst fellows would skin a cat, by Jove! What I say is, let A. B. have a chance,—just let him in once, and see if he won't do the thing!”
“Do you wish to be in Parliament, Mr. Beecher?” asked Bella, with a smile of half-repressed drollery.
“Of course I do. First, there's the protection,—no bad thing as times go; then it would be uncommon strange if I could n't 'tool the coach into the yard' safely. They 'd have to give me a devilish good thing. You 'd see what a thorn I 'd be in their sides. Ask Grog Davis what kind of fellow I am; he 'll tell you if I 'm easily put down. But Lackington is a fool; he can't see the road before him!”