Parliament. He became one of the prominent men in the House. Spoke
clearly, sensibly, and modestly, and was never too long. Held the House,
where men of higher abilities "bored" it. The chiefs of his party said
openly, "We must do something for Delamayn," The opportunity offered,
and the chiefs kept their word. Their Solicitor-General was advanced
a step, and they put Delamayn in his place. There was an outcry on the
part of the older members of the Bar. The Ministry answered, "We want
a man who is listened to in the House, and we have got him." The papers
supported the new nomination. A great debate came off, and the new
Solicitor-General justified the Ministry and the papers. His enemies
said, derisively, "He will be Lord Chancellor in a year or two!" His
friends made genial jokes in his domestic circle, which pointed to the
same conclusion. They warned his two sons, Julius and Geoffrey (then at
college), to be careful what acquaintances they made, as they might find
themselves the sons of a lord at a moment's notice. It really began to
look like something of the sort. Always rising, Mr. Delamayn rose next
to be Attorney-General. About the same time--so true it is that "nothing
succeeds like success"--a childless relative died and left him a
fortune. In the summer of 'sixty-six a Chief Judgeship fell vacant.
The Ministry had made a previous appointment which had been universally
unpopular. They saw their way to supplying the place of their
Attorney-General, and they offered the judicial appointment to Mr.
Delamayn. He preferred remaining in the House of Commons, and refused
to accept it. The Ministry declined to take No for an answer. They
whispered confidentially, "Will you take it with a peerage?" Mr.
Delamayn consulted his wife, and took it with a peerage. The London
_Gazette_ announced him to the world as Baron Holchester of Holchester.
And the friends of the family rubbed their hands and said, "What did we
tell you? Here are our two young friends, Julius and Geoffrey, the sons
of a lord!"