“Stop, Mr. Toad,” eagerly exclaimed Vivian; “I see my error. I misconceived your meaning: you are right, sir; your definition is correct.”
“I was confident that I should convince you, Mr. Grey.”
“This conversation, I assure you, Mr. Toad, has been to me a peculiarly satisfactory one. Indeed, sir, I have long wished to have the honour of making your acquaintance. When but a boy, I remember, at my father’s table, the late Marquess of Almack’s—”
“Yes, Mr. Grey.”
“One of the ablest men, Mr. Toad, after all, that this country ever produced.”
“Oh, poor dear man!”
“I remember his observing to a friend of mine, who was at that time desirous of getting into the House: ‘Hargrave,’ said his Lordship, ‘if you want any information upon points of practical politics;’ that was his phrase; you remember, Mr. Toad, that his Lordship was peculiar in his phrases?”
“Oh! yes, poor dear man; but you were observing, Mr. Grey—”
“Ay, ay! ‘If you want any information,’ said his Lordship, ‘on such points, there is only one man in the kingdom whom you should consult, and he is one of the soundest heads I know, and that is Stapylton Toad, the member for Mounteney;’ you know you were in for Mounteney then, Mr. Toad.”
“I was, and accepted the Chilterns to make room for Augustus Clay, Ernest Clay’s brother, who was so involved, that the only way to keep him out of the House of Correction was to get him into the House of Commons. But the Marquess said so, eh?”