Business done.—Charge of Breach of Privilege against Times, negatived by 260 Votes against 212.
Wednesday.—House met at Noon as usual on Wednesdays; the two men of war in their places in full uniform, which looked a little creased as if they had slept in it. The eye that has sternly reviewed the Warwickshire Yeomanry Cavalry, lacks something of its wonted brightness; whilst Royden's black velvet suit sets off the added pallor of a countenance that tells of sleepless vigil.
House nearly empty; Members won't turn up at Noon even to hear the thrilling eloquence clothing the original thoughts of the Mover and Seconder of the Address. Amid the dreary space the stalwart figure of George Hawkesworth Bond, Member for the East Division of Dorset, stands forth like a monument. Curious to see how Bond avoids vicinity of Cross Benches. Was standing there in contemplative attitude last night, whilst Gorst was demonstrating that Harcourt's Motion on Breach of Privilege was, (1) too late, and (2) that it was too soon. It was at this moment that the Mouse appeared on the scene, leisurely strolling down floor apparently going to join the majority. A view-halloa started him; doubled and made for Cross Benches; BOND, awakened out of reverie by the shout, looked down and saw the strange apparition. Never believed a man of his weight could get so high up into the air by sudden swift gyration. Mouse, more frightened even than the man, dodged round the Benches and disappeared. "All very well once in a way," said Bond this afternoon, sinking into a seat far removed from the Cross Benches; "but it is foolish unnecessarily to court danger; won't catch me standing at the bar any more when Gorst is orating."
Before the Mouse came.
And his word is as good as his Bond.
After Mover and Seconder had completed their story, Grand Old Man appeared at the table, and talked for nearly an hour. Few to listen, but that no matter. A rapt auditor in Old Morality, sitting forward with hands on knees, eyes reverently fixed on orator, drinking in his honeyed words. Something paternal in his attitude towards Ministers. Here and there they had done not quite the right thing. The Markiss, in particular, had been particularly harsh to Portugal; but, on the whole, things might have been worse.
"Bless you, my children; bless you!" were the last words of the Grand Old Man as he stretched forth his hands across the table. Not a dry eye on the Treasury Bench. Old Morality deeply touched, but through his sobs managed to make acknowledgment of the unexpected clemency. Business done.—Address Moved.
Thursday.—The languor in which House steeped since Debate on Address opened, not varied to-night till, at ten o'clock, copies of Report of Parnell Commission brought to Vote Office. Then such a scrimmage as never before seen.
At re-opening of Debate, Howorth started off with reference to Portugal. Immediately Members, with one consent, went forth, discovering that they had special business in the Lobby, the Library, the Tea-room, anywhere out of the House. The Sage of Queen Anne's Gate had not even waited for resumption of Debate to quit the scene; was comfortably ensconsed in Smoking-room, distilling words of wisdom to listening circle. Someone dropping in, accidentally mentioned that Howorth had brought on Portugal business. Sage jumped up nearly as high as Bond when he saw the Mouse. Had an Amendment on the paper referring to Portugal; had prepared a few paragraphs elucidating it. If opportunity missed, speech would be lost. So bolted off; arrived just in time to follow Howorth. Whilst discoursing, Our Latest Duke came in, fresh from the pageant of his installation in House of Lords. Seated in Peers' Gallery, toying with his walking-stick, thinking no evil, started to hear his name mentioned. Sage's quick eye had caught sight of him.