“There 's nothing so hard to kill as a judge, except it be an archbishop. I believe a sedentary life does it; they say if a fellow will sit still and never move he may live to any age.”
Pemberton took an impatient turn up and down the room, and then wheeling about directly in front of Balfour, said, “If his Excellency knew, perhaps, that I do not want the House of Commons—”
“Not want the House,—not wish to be in Parliament?”
“Certainly not. If I enter the House, it is as a law-officer of the Crown; personally it is no object to me.”
“I'll not tell him that, Pem. I'll keep your secret safe, for I tell you frankly it would ruin you to reveal it.”
“It's no secret, sir; you may proclaim it,—you may publish it in the 'Gazette,' But really we are wasting much valuable time here. It is now two o'clock, and I must go down to Court. I have only to say that if no arrangement be come to before this time to-morrow—” He stopped short. Another word might have committed him, but he pulled up in time.
“Well, what then?” asked Balfour, with a half smile.
“I have heard you pride yourself, Mr. Balfour,” said the other, recovering, “on your skill in nice negotiation; why not try what you could do with the Chief Baron?”
“Are there women in the family?” said Balfour, caressing his moustache.
“No; only his wife.”