sat so long and voted so steadily! To be sure, he is very tiresome,
and can't make himself heard a yard off, and is very stingy about
subscriptions; and, if there was some rising young man to put into
his seat, as the Duke of Newcastle put Gladstone, it might be all
very well. But, really, Philip Vaughan is such a moody, dreamy
creature, and so wrapped up in books and poetry, that he can never
make a decent Member of Parliament. Politics are quite out of his
line, and I shouldn't wonder if Lord Liscombe contrived to lose
the seat. But he's as obstinate as a mule; and he has persuaded
himself that young Vaughan is a genius. Was there ever such folly?"

Lord Liscombe had his own way--as he commonly had. Mr. Cobley received
a polite intimation that at the next election he would not be able
to rely on the Liscombe interest, and retired with a very bad grace,
but not without his reward; for before long he received the offer
of a baronetcy (which he accepted, as he said, to please his wife),
and died honourably as Sir Thomas Cobley. Meanwhile Lord Liscombe,
who, when he had framed a plan, never let the grass grow under
his feet, induced Philip Vaughan to quit Oxford without waiting
for a degree, made him address "Market Ordinaries" and political
meetings at Bilton, presented him at the Levee, proposed him at
his favourite clubs, gave him an ample allowance, and launched him,
with a vigorous push, into society. In all this Lord Liscombe did
well, and showed his knowledge of human nature. The air of politics
stirred young Vaughan's pulses as they had never been stirred before.
What casual observers had regarded as idle reveries turned out to
have been serious studies. With the theory of English politics, as
it shaped itself in 1852 when Lord Derby and Disraeli were trying
to restore Protection, Vaughan showed himself thoroughly acquainted;
and, as often happens when a contemplative and romantic nature