"It amounts to the same thing," continued Charles, with a slight blush.

"But your quotation was not correct," said Fred.

"Perhaps the member will give me the correct reading of the passage."

"With pleasure; the lines are from Shakspeare:--

'There's a Divinity that shapes our ends,
Roughhew them as we will.'

I fancy the lines will not suit the member now," continued Fred, as he
cast a mischievous glance at the discomfited speech-maker.

"Go on, if you please," said Frank to Charles.

"As I was saying, Mr. President, 'There's a Divinity that shapes our
ends'--"

"You were not saying so," interposed Fred.

"Order!" said the chairman. "Proceed."

But Charles Hardy could not proceed. Undoubtedly, when he rose to speak,
he had an idea in his head; but it had fled, and he could not at once
recall it. In vain he scratched his head, in vain he thrust his hands
into his pockets, as if in search of the lost idea; it would not come.

"You were speaking of Tim Bunker," said Frank, suggestively.