The word “solicitation” fell from the Knight's lips with such a peculiar expression that Heffernan at once saw his own game was detected, and, like a clever tactician, resolved to make the best of his forced position.
“You have been frank with me, Knight; I'll not be less candid with you, I came here to convey to you a distinct offer from the Government,—not of any personal favor or advantage, that, they well knew, you would reject,—but, in the event of your support, to take any suggestion you might make on the new Bill into their serious and favorable consideration; to advise with you how, in short, the measure might be made to meet your views, and, so to say, admit you into conclave with the Cabinet.”
“All this is very flattering,” said the Knight, with a smile of evident satisfaction, “but I scarcely see how the opinions of a very humble country gentleman can weigh in the grave councils of a Government.”
“The best proof is the fact itself,” replied Heffernan, artfully. “Were I to tell you of other reasons, you might suspect me of an intention to canvass your support on very different grounds.”
“I confess I'm in the dark; explain yourself more fully.”
“This is a day for sincerity,” said Heffernan, smiling, “and so, here it is: the Prince has taken a special liking to your son Lionel, and has given him his company.”
“His company! I never heard of it.”
“Strange enough that he should not have written to you on the subject, but the fact is unquestionable; and, as I was saying, he is a frequent guest at Carlton House, and admitted into the choice circle of his Royal Highness's parties: if, in the freedom of that intimacy with which he is honored by the Prince, the question should have arisen, how his father meant to vote, the fact was not surprising, no more than that Captain Darcy should have replied—”
“Lionel never pledged himself to control my vote, depend upon that, Mr. Heffernan,” said the Knight, reddening.