‘I suppose not.’
‘Nor any family?’
‘Brothers and sisters he may have—indeed, he is sure to have; but if you mean connections—belonging to persons of admitted station—of course he has not. The name alone might show it.’
Another little sigh, fainter than before, followed, and all was still.
‘Five years hence, if even so much, the plebeian name and the unknown stock will be in his favour; but we have to wade through a few dreary measures before that. I wish he was in the House—he ought to be in the House.’
‘Is there a vacancy?’ said she lazily.
‘Two. There is Cradford, and there is that Scotch place—the something-Burg, which, of course, one of their own people will insist on.’
‘Couldn’t he have Cradford?’ asked she, with a very slight animation.
‘He might—at least if Brand knew him, he’d see he was the man they wanted. I almost think I’ll write a line to Brand, and send him some extracts of the last letter. I will—here goes.’
‘If you’ll tell me—’