“Cast aside? Tut, tut! What do you mean?”
“I am told that though the borough for which I sit will continue to return one member, I shall not have the support of the party in retaining my seat.”
“Indeed! Indeed!” Brougham answered, “Is it so? I am sorry to hear that.”
“But——”
“Very sorry, Mr. Vaughan.”
“But, with submission, my lord, it is something more than sorrow I seek,” Vaughan answered, too sore to hide his feelings. “You have owned very candidly that I derived from you the impulse which has carried me so far. Is it unreasonable if I venture to turn to you, when advised to see one of the chiefs of my party?”
“Who,” Brougham asked with a quick look, “gave you that advice, Mr. Vaughan?”
“Sir Charles Wetherell.”
“Um!” the Chancellor replied through pinched lips. And he stood, “they had crossed Piccadilly and Berkeley Square, and had reached the corner of Hill Street, where at No. 5, Brougham lived.
“I repeat, my lord,” Vaughan continued, “is it unreasonable if I apply to you in these circumstances, rather——”