“With all my heart. I wish sincerely some good-natured fellow would lay to my charge a little roguery that I had no share in. I have experienced all manner and shades of sensations, but injured innocence, that would really be new to me.”
“Well,” sighed Lord Charles, with a yawn, “I suppose we have only a short time before us here. The end of the session will scarcely see us in office.”
“About that: by keeping all hands at the pumps we may float the ship into harbor, but no more.”
“And what 's to become of us?” said the aide-de-camp, with a deep depression in his accent.
“The usual lot of a crew paid off,” cried Linton, laughing; “look out for a new craft in commission, and go to sea again. As for you, Charley, you can either marry something in the printed calico line, with a hundred and fifty thousand, or, if you prefer it, exchange into a light cavalry corps at Suntanterabund.”
“And you?” said Lord Charles, with something almost of sternness.
“I? Oh, as for me, I have many alternatives. I can remain a Whig, and demand office from the Tories—a claim Peel has never resisted; I can turn Repealer, and be pensioned by something in the Colonies; I can be a waiter on Providence, and live on all parties by turns. In fact, Charley, there never was a better age for your 'adventurer' than this year of our Lord 18—. All the geography of party has been erased, and it is open to every man to lay down new territorial limits.”
“But for any case of the kind you should have a seat in Parliament”
“So I mean it, my boy. I intend to represent,—I'm sure I forget the name of my constituency,—in the next assemblage of the collective wisdom.”
“How do you manage the qualification?” said the aide-de-camp, slyly.