Ayes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301 Noes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 300 — Majority for Ministers 1
| Ayes | . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 301 |
| Noes | . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | 300 |
| — | ||
| Majority for Ministers | 1 |
On which glorious and decisive result, there burst forth immense cheering on the ministerial side of the House, and vehement counter-cheering on the opposition side, which lasted for several minutes. The noise, indeed, was so prodigious, that it almost roused Titmouse from the sort of stupor into which he had sunk. Mr. O'Doodle accompanied him home; and, after drinking a couple of tumblers of whiskey and water with him, took his departure—caring nothing that he had left Titmouse on the floor, in a state of dangerous insensibility; from which, however, in due time he recovered, but was confined to his bed, by a violent bilious attack, for nearly a week. Mr. O'Doodle's services to the Government were not forgotten. A few days afterwards he vacated his seat, having received the appointment of sub-inspector of political caricatures in Ireland, with a salary of six hundred pounds a-year for life. His place in the House was immediately filled up by his brother, Mr. Trigger O'Doodle, who kept a shooting-gallery in Dublin. Profuse were Phelim's thanks to Mr. O'Gibbet, when that gentleman announced to him his good fortune, exclaiming, at the same time, with a sly wink and smile—"Ye see what it is to rinder service to the state—aha! Aisy, aisy!—softly, say I. Isn't that the way to get along?"
[CHAPTER III.]
The injuries which Titmouse had received in his encounter with the waterman—I mean principally his black eye—prevented him from making his appearance in public, or at Lord Dreddlington's, or in the House, for several days after he had recovered from the bilious attack of which I have spoken. His non-attendance at the House, however, signified little, since both parties had been so thoroughly exhausted by their late trial of strength, as to require for some time rest and quietness, to enable them to resume the public business of the country. As soon as his eye was fairly convalescent, the first place to which he ventured out was his new residence in Park Lane, which having been taken for him, under the superintendence of the Earl of Dreddlington and Mr. Gammon, some month or two before, was now rapidly being furnished, in order to be in readiness to receive his lady and himself, immediately after his marriage—his Parliamentary duties not admitting of a prolonged absence from town. The former event had, as usual, been already prematurely announced in the newspapers several times as on the eve of taking place. The courtship went on very easily and smoothly. Neither of them seemed anxious for the other's society, though they contrived to evince, in the presence of others, a decent degree of gratification at meeting each other. He did all which he was instructed it was necessary for a man of fashion to do. He attended her and the earl to the opera repeatedly, as also to other places of fashionable resort: he had danced with her occasionally; but, to tell the truth, it was only at the vehement instance of the earl her father, that she ever consented to stand up with one whose person, whose carriage, whose motions were so unutterably vulgar and ridiculous as those of Mr. Titmouse, who was yet her affianced husband. He had made her several times rather expensive presents of jewelry, and would have purchased for her a great stock of clothing, (of which he justly considered himself an excellent judge,) if she would have permitted it. He had, moreover, been a constant guest at the earl's table, where he was under greater restraint than anywhere else. Of such indiscretions and eccentricities as I have just been recording, they knew, or were properly supposed to know, nothing. 'T was not for them to have their eyes upon him while sowing his wild oats—so thought the earl; who, however, had frequent occasion for congratulating himself in respect of Mr. Titmouse's political celebrity, and also of the marks of distinction conferred upon him in the literary and scientific world, of which the earl was himself so distinguished an ornament. Titmouse had presented copies, gorgeously bound, of Dr. Gander's Treatise on Lightness, both to the earl and the Lady Cecilia; and the very flattering dedication to Titmouse, by Dr. Gander, really operated not a little in his favor with his future lady. What effect might have been produced upon her Ladyship, had she been apprised of the fact, that the aforesaid dedication had appeared in only a hundred copies, having been cancelled directly Dr. Gander had ascertained the futility of his expectations from Titmouse, I do not know; but I believe she never was informed of that circumstance. As far as his dress went, she had contrived, through the interference of the earl and of Mr. Gammon, (for whom she had conceived a singular respect,) to abate a little of its fantastic absurdity, its execrable vulgarity. Nothing, however, seemed capable of effecting any material change in the man, although his continued intercourse with refined society could hardly fail to produce some advantageous alteration in his manners. As for anything further, Tittlebat Titmouse remained the same vulgar, heartless, presumptuous, ignorant creature he had ever been. Though I perceive in the Lady Cecilia no qualities to excite our respect or affection, I pity her from my very soul when I contemplate her coming union with Titmouse. One thing I know, that as soon as ever she had bound herself irrevocably to him, she began to think of at least fifty men whom she had ever spurned, but whom now she would have welcomed with all the ardor and affection of which her cold nature was susceptible. As she had never been conspicuous for animation, vivacity, or energy, the gloom which more and more frequently overshadowed her, whenever her thoughts turned towards Titmouse, attracted scarce any one's attention. There were those, however, who could have spoken of her mental disquietude at the approach of her cheerless nuptials—I mean her maid Annette and Miss Macspleuchan. To say that she loathed the bare idea of her union with Titmouse—of his person, manners, and character—would not perhaps be exactly correct, since she had not the requisite strength of character; but she contemplated her future lord with mingled feelings of apprehension, dislike, and disgust. She generally fled for support to the comfortable notion of "fate," which had assigned her such a husband. Heaven had denied poor Lady Cecilia all power of contemplating the future; of anticipating consequences; of reflecting upon the step she was about to take. Miss Macspleuchan, however, did so for her; but, being placed in a situation of great delicacy and difficulty, acted with cautious reserve whenever the subject was mentioned. Lady Cecilia had not vouchsafed to consult her before her Ladyship had finally committed herself to Titmouse; and, after that, interference was useless and unwarrantable.
Lady Cecilia late one afternoon entered her dressing-room pale and dispirited, as had been latterly her wont; and, with a deep sigh, sank into her easy-chair. Annette, on her Ladyship's entrance, was leaning against the window frame, reading a book, which she immediately closed and laid down. "What are you reading there?" inquired Lady Cecilia, languidly.
"Oh, nothing particular, my Lady!" replied Annette, coloring a little; "it was only the prayer-book. I was looking at the marriage-service, my Lady. I wanted to see what it was that your Ladyship has to say"——
"It's not very amusing, Annette. I think it very dull and stupid—and you might have been better employed!"