conglomerate and encrust till the artificiality grows into nature.

"Pelham," said Vincent, with a cold smile, "the day will be your's; the
battle is not to the strong--the whigs will triumph. 'Fugere Pudor,
verumque, fidesque; in quorum subiere locum fraudesque dolique
insidioeque et vis et amor sceleratus habendi.'"

"A pretty modest quotation," said I. "You must allow at least, that the
amor sceleratus habendi was also, in some moderate degree, shared by the
Pudor and Fides which characterize your party; otherwise, I am at a loss
how to account for the tough struggle against us we have lately had the
honour of resisting."

"Never mind," replied Vincent, "I will not refute you,

"'La richesse permet une juste fierte, Mais il faut etre souple avec la
pauvrete.' It is not for us, the defeated, to argue with you the victors.
But pray, (continued Vincent, with a sneer which pleased me not), pray,
among this windfall of the Hesperian fruit, what nice little apple will
fall to your share?"

"My good Vincent, don't let us anticipate; if any such apple should come
into my lap, let it not be that of discord between us."

"Who talks of discord?" asked Lady Roseville, joining us.

"Lord Vincent," said I, "fancies himself the celebrated fruit, on which
was written, detur pulcerrimoe, to be given to the fairest. Suffer me
therefore, to make him a present to your ladyship."