Stapylton, like the rest of mankind, had his weak points. The late Marquess of Almack’s was wont to manage him very happily, and Toad was always introducing that minister’s opinion of his importance. “‘My time is quite at your service, General,’ although the poor dear Marquess used to say, ‘Mr. Stapylton Toad, your time is mine.’ He knew the business I had to get through!” The family portraits also, in ostentatious frames, now adorned the dining-room of his London mansion; and it was amusing to hear the worthy M.P. dilate upon his likeness to his respected father.
“You see, my Lord,” Stapylton would say, pointing to a dark, dingy picture of a gentleman in a rich court dress, “you see, my Lord, it is not in a very good light, and it certainly is a very dark picture, by Hudson; all Hudson’s pictures were dark. But if I were six inches taller, and could hold the light just there, I think your Lordship would be astonished at the resemblance; but it’s a dark picture, certainly it is dark; all Hudson’s pictures were.”
CHAPTER XIV
The Cavaliers have left the ancient Hall, and the old pictures frown only upon empty tables. The Marquess immediately gained a seat by Mrs. Million, and was soon engrossed in deep converse with that illustrious lady. In one room, the most eminent and exclusive, headed by Mrs. Felix Lorraine, were now winding through the soothing mazes of a slow waltz, and now whirling, with all the rapidity of Eastern dervishes, to true double Wien time. In another saloon, the tedious tactics of quadrilles commanded the exertions of less civilised beings: here Liberal Snake, the celebrated political economist, was lecturing to a knot of alarmed country gentlemen; and there an Italian improvisatore poured forth to an admiring audience all the dulness of his inspiration. Vivian Grey was holding an earnest conversation in one of the recesses with Mr. Stapylton Toad. He had already charmed that worthy by the deep interest which he took in everything relating to elections and the House of Commons, and now they were hard at work on the Corn Laws. Although they agreed upon the main points, and Vivian’s ideas upon this important subject had, of course, been adopted after studying Mr. Toad’s “most luminous and convincing pamphlet,” still there were a few minor points on which Vivian “was obliged to confess” that “he did not exactly see his way.” Mr. Toad was astonished, but argumentative, and, of course, in due time, had made a convert of his companion; “a young man,” as he afterwards remarked to Lord Mounteney, “in whom he knew not which most to admire, the soundness of his own views, or the candour with which he treated those of others.” If you wish to win a man’s heart, allow him to confute you.
“I think, Mr. Grey, you must admit that my definition of labour is the correct one?” said Mr. Toad, looking earnestly in Vivian’s face, his finger just presuming to feel a button.
“That exertion of mind or body which is not the involuntary effect of the influence of natural sensations,” slowly repeated Vivian, as if his whole soul was concentrated in each monosyllable. “Y-e-s, Mr. Toad, I do admit it.”
“Then, my dear sir, the rest follows of course,” triumphantly exclaimed the member; “don’t you see it?”
“Although I admit the correctness of your definition, Mr. Toad, I am not free to confess that I am ex-act-ly convinced of the soundness of your conclusion,” said Vivian, in a musing mood.
“But, my dear sir, I am surprised that you don’t see that—”