stripped Lord Vargrave's unlucky sentences of every syllable that could
give offence to any one; and left the pointed epigrams and vehement
denunciations a most harmless arrangement of commonplace.

The House was much excited; there was a call for Lord Vargrave, and Lord
Vargrave promptly rose. It was one of those dilemmas out of which Lumley
was just the man to extricate himself with address. There was so much
manly frankness in his manner, there was so much crafty subtlety in his
mind! He complained, with proud and honest bitterness, of the
construction that had been forced upon his words by the Opposition.
"If," he added (and no man knew better the rhetorical effect of the _tu
quoque form of argument),--"if every sentence uttered by the noble lord
opposite in his zeal for liberty had, in days now gone by, been construed
with equal rigour, or perverted with equal ingenuity, that noble lord had
long since been prosecuted as an incendiary, perhaps executed as a
traitor!" Vehement cheers from the ministerial benches; cries of
"Order!" from the Opposition. A military lord rose to order, and
appealed to the Woolsack.

Lumley sat down as if chafed at the interruption; he had produced the
effect he had desired,--he had changed the public question at issue into
a private quarrel; a new excitement was created; dust was thrown into the
eyes of the House. Several speakers rose to accommodate matters; and
after half-an-hour of public time had been properly wasted, the noble
lord on the one side and the noble lord on the other duly explained, paid
each other the highest possible compliments, and Lumley was left to
conclude his vindication, which now seemed a comparatively flat matter
after the late explosion. He completed his task so as to satisfy,
apparently, all parties--for all parties were now tired of the thing, and
wanted to go to bed. But the next morning there were whispers about the