 day, perhaps, you may both do me the justice that I now can only look for from my own conscience."

"Very possibly," replied the earl, with a satirical bow. "I believe, gentlemen, our business is ended for to-day, and it is a long drive to Norton Bury. Sir Ralph, might we hope for the honour of your company? No? Good day, my friends. Mr. Halifax, your servant."

"One word, my lord. Those workmen of mine, who are your tenants—I am aware what usually results when tenants in arrear vote against their landlords—if, without taking any harsher measures, your agent will be so kind as to apply to me for the rent—"

"Sir, my agent will use his own discretion."

"Then I rely on your lordship's kindliness—your sense of honour."

"Honour is only spoken of between equals," said the earl, haughtily. "But on one thing Mr. Halifax may always rely—my excellent memory."

With a smile and bow as perfect as if he were victoriously quitting the field, Lord Luxmore departed. Soon not one remained of all those who had filled the church and churchyard, making there a tumult that is chronicled to this very day by some ancient villagers, who still think themselves greatly ill-used because the Reform Act has blotted out of the list of English boroughs the "loyal and independent" borough of Kingswell.

Sir Ralph Oldtower stood a good while talking with John; and finally, having sent his carriage on, walked with him down Kingswell Hill towards the manor-house. I, riding alongside, caught fragments of their conversation.

"What you say is all true, Mr. Halifax; and you say it well. But what can we do? Our English constitution is perfect—that is, as perfect as anything human can be. Yet corruptions will arise; we regret, we even blame—but we cannot remove them. It is impossible."

"Do you think, Sir Ralph, that the Maker of this world—which, so far as we can see, He means like all other of His creations gradually to advance toward perfection—do you think He would justify us in pronouncing any good work therein 'impossible'?"

"You talk like a young man," said the baronet, half sadly. "Coming years will show you the world and the ways of it in a clearer light."

"I earnestly hope so."

Sir Ralph glanced sideways at him—perhaps with a sort of envy of the very youth which he thus charitably excused
