"Your
pride may have a fall, my dear fellow. You are young and confident, I
am old and humble. Some day you will be glad to hope that you are not
without this despised popularity."
Wratislaw looked grave. "God forbid that I should despise it. When it
comes my way I shall think that my work is done, and rest in peace. But
you and I are not the sort of people who can court it with comfort. We
are old sticks and very full of angles, but it would be a pity to rub
them off if the shape were to be spoiled."
Lord Beauregard nodded. "Tell me more about your friend Haystoun."
Wratislaw's face relaxed, and he became communicative.
"He is a Scots laird, rather well off, and, as I have said, uncommonly
clever. He lives at a place called Etterick in the Gled valley."
"I saw Merkland to-day, and he spoke his farewell to politics. The
Whips told me about it yesterday."
"Merkland! But he always raised that scare!"
"He is serious this time. He has sold his town house."
"Then that settles it. Lewis shall stand in his place."
"Good," said the great man. "We want experts. He would strengthen your
feeble hands and confirm your tottering knees, Tommy."
"If he gets in; but he will have a fight for it. Our dear friend Albert
Stocks has been nursing the seat, and the Manorwaters and scores of
Lewie's friends will help him. That young man has a knack of confining
his affections to members of the opposite party.
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