a tinge of grey--the very opposite in appearance to his late friend, Sir
Florian Eustace. He was quick, ready-witted, self-reliant, and not
overscrupulous in the outward things of the world. He was desirous of
doing his duty to others, but he was specially desirous that others should
do their duty to him. He intended to get on in the world, and believed
that happiness was to be achieved by success. He was certainly made for
the profession which he had adopted. His father, looking to certain
morsels of Church patronage which occasionally came in his way, and to the
fact that he and the bishop were on most friendly terms, had wished his
son to take orders. But Frank had known himself and his own qualities too
well to follow his father's advice. He had chosen to be a barrister, and
now at thirty was in Parliament.

He had been asked to stand for Bobsborough in the Conservative interest,
and as a Conservative he had been returned. Those who invited him knew
probably but little of his own political beliefs or feelings--did not,
probably, know that he had any. His father was a fine old Tory of the
ancient school, who thought things were going from bad to worse, but was
able to live happily in spite of his anticipations. The dean was one of
those Old-World politicians--we meet them every day, and they are
generally very pleasant people--who enjoy the politics of the side to
which they belong without any special belief in them. If pressed hard,
they will almost own that their so-called convictions are prejudices. But
not for worlds would they be rid of them. When two or three of them meet
together, they are as free-masons, who are bound by a pleasant bond which
separates them from the outer world. They feel among themselves that
everything that is being done is bad, even though that everything is done
by their own party. It was bad to interfere with Charles, bad to endure
Cromwell, bad to banish James, bad to put up with William. The House of
Hanover was bad. All interference with prerogative has been bad. The