a man not deficient in filial piety or general humanity.  Sir, I am sorry for what I did in a moment of heat.  I have now spoken the truth, and I shall leave myself in the hands of the House.  My belief is that I should get such a round of applause as I certainly shall never achieve in any other way.  It is not only that a popular man may do it,—­like Phineas Finn,—­but the most unpopular man in the House may make himself liked by owning freely that he has done something that he ought to be ashamed of.’  Nidderdale’s unwonted eloquence was received in good part by the assembled legislators.

‘Taking it altogether,’ said the Duke, ’I know of no assembly in any country in which good-humour prevails so generally, in which the members behave to each other so well, in which the rules are so universally followed, or in which the president is so thoroughly sustained by the feeling of the members.

‘I hear men say that it isn’t quite what it used to be,’ said Silverbridge.

‘Nothing will ever be quite what it used to be.’

’Changes for the worse, I mean.  Men are doing all kinds of things, just because the rules of the House allow them.’

‘If they be within the rule,’ said the Duke, ’I don’t know who is to blame them.  In my time, if any man stretched a rule too far the House would not put up with it.’

‘That’s just it,’ said Nidderdale.  ’The House puts up with anything now.  There is a great deal of good feeling no doubt, but there’s no earnestness about anything.  I think you are more earnest than we; but then you are such horrid bores.  And each earnest man is in earnest about something that nobody else cares for.’

When they were again in the drawing-room, Lord Popplecourt was seated next to Lady Mary.  ‘Where are you going this autumn?’ he asked.

’I don’t know in the least.  Papa said something about going abroad.’

‘You won’t be at Custins?’ Custins was Lord Cantrip’s country seat in Dorsetshire.

’I know nothing about myself as yet.  But I don’t think I shall go anywhere unless papa goes too.’

’Lady Cantrip has asked me to be at Custins in the middle of October.  They say it is about the best pheasant shooting in England.’

‘Do you shoot much?’

’A great deal.  I shall be in Scotland on the Twelfth.  I and Reginald Dobbs have a place together.  I shall get to my own partridges on the first of September.  I always manage that.  Popplecourt is in Suffolk, and I don’t think any man in England can beat me for partridges.’

‘What do you do with all you slay?’

’Leadenhall Market.  I make it pay,—­or very nearly.  Then I shall run back to Scotland for the end of the stalking, and I can easily manage to be at Custins by the middle of October.  I never touch my own pheasants till November.’

‘Why are you so abstemious?’

’The birds are heavier and it answer better.  But if I thought you would be at Custins it would be much nicer.’  Lady Mary again told him that as yet she knew nothing of her father’s autumn movements.