"Now then," said Mr. Combermere, drawing his chair nearer to me,--"now,
Mr. Pelham, we can discuss these matters. Women are no politicians,"--and
at this sage aphorism, the Rev. Combermere laughed a low solemn laugh,
which could have come from no other lips. After I had joined in this
grave merriment for a second or two--I hemmed thrice, and with a
countenance suited to the subject and the hosts, plunged at once in
medias res.

"Mr. St. Quintin," said I, "you are already aware, I think, of my
intention of offering myself as a candidate for the borough of Buyemall.
I could not think of such a measure, without calling upon you, the very
first person, to solicit the honour of your vote." Mr. Combermere looked
pleased, and prepared to reply. "You are the very first person I called
upon," repeated I.

Mr. Combermere smiled. "Well, Mr. Pelham," said he, "our families have
long been on the most intimate footing."

"Ever since" cried I, "ever since Henry the Seventh's time have the
houses of St. Quintin and Glenmorris been allied. Your ancestors, you
know, were settled in the county before our's, and my mother assures me
that she has read in some old book or another, a long account of your
forefather's kind reception of mine at the castle of St. Quintin. I do
trust, Sir, that we have done nothing to forfeit a support so long
afforded us."

Mr. St. Quintin bowed in speechless gratification; at length he found
voice. "But your principles, Mr. Pelham?"