"Yes, he is still young."

"And, and--"

Here Mrs. Templeton was interrupted by the entrance of her husband. He
held the letter from Lord Saxingham--it was yet unopened. He seemed
moody; but that was common with him. He coldly shook hands with Lumley;
nodded to his wife, found fault with the fire, and throwing himself into
his easy-chair, said, "So, Lumley, I think I was a fool for taking your
advice--and hanging back about this new election. I see by the evening
papers that there is shortly to be a creation of peers. If I had shown
activity on behalf of the government I might have shamed them into
gratitude."

"I think I was right, sir," replied Lumley; "public men are often
alarmed into gratitude, seldom shamed into it. Firm votes, like old
friends, are most valued when we think we are about to lose them; but
what is that letter in your hand?"

"Oh, some begging petition, I suppose."

"Pardon me--it has an official look." Templeton put on his spectacles,
raised the letter, examined the address and seal, hastily opened it, and
broke into an exclamation very like an oath: when he had concluded--"
Give me your hand, nephew--the thing is settled--I am to have the
peerage. You were right--ha, ha!--my dear wife, you will be my lady,
think of that--aren't you glad?--why don't your ladyship smile? Where's
the child--where is she, I say?"

"Gone to bed, sir," said Mrs. Templeton, half frightened.