"Of course, sir," replied the Baron, blandly, and offering his snuff-box (true Louis Quinze, with a miniature of Madame de Pompadour, set in pearls). "You are a friend to the present ministers? You could not wish them to be mean enough to stay in?" Randal drew aside the Baron.
"If Audley's affairs are as you state, what can he do?"
"I shall ask him that question to-morrow," answered the Baron, with a look of visible hate. "And I have come here just to see how he bears the prospect before him."
"You will not discover that in his face. And those absurd scruples of his! If he had but gone out in time—to come in again with the New Men!"
"Oh, of course, our Right Honorable is too punctilious for that!" answered the Baron, sneering.
Suddenly the doors opened—in rushed the breathless expectants. "What are the numbers? What is the division!"
"Majority against ministers," said a member of Opposition, peeling an orange, "twenty-nine."
The Baron, too, had a Speaker's order; and he came into the House with Randal, and sate by his side. But, to their disgust, some member was talking about the other motions before the House.
"What! has nothing been said as to the division?" asked the Baron of a young county member, who was talking to some non-parliamentary friend in the bench before Levy. The county member was one of the Baron's pet eldest sons—had dined often with Levy—was under "obligations" to him. The young legislator looked very much ashamed of Levy's friendly pat on his shoulder, and answered hurriedly, "Oh, yes; H—— asked, 'if, after such an expression of the House, it was the intention of ministers to retain their places, and carry on the business of the government?'"
"Just like H——! Very inquisitive mind! And what was the answer he got?"