The old gentleman also drank, and was mollified enough to reply:  ’Shan’t follow you in Parliament.’

‘Haven’t forgiven that yet, Tom?’

‘No great harm done when you’re silent.’

‘Capital Port!’ said Mr. Andrew, replenishing the glasses.  ’I ought to have inquired where they kept the best Port.  I might have known you’d stick by it.  By the way, talking of Parliament, there’s talk of a new election for Fallow field.  You have a vote there.  Will you give it to Jocelyn?  There’s talk of his standing.

‘If he’ll wear petticoats, I’ll give him my vote.’

‘There you go, Tom!’

’I hate masquerades.  You’re penny trumpets of the women.  That tattle comes from the bed-curtains.  When a petticoat steps forward I give it my vote, or else I button it up in my pocket.’

This was probably one of the longest speeches he had ever delivered at the Aurora.  There was extra Port in it.  Jonathan, who from his place of observation noted the length of time it occupied, though he was unable to gather the context, glanced at Mr. Andrew with a sly satisfaction.  Mr. Andrew, laughing, signalled for another pint.

‘So you’ve come here for my vote, have you?’ said Mr. Tom.

‘Why, no; not exactly that,’ Mr. Andrew answered, blinking and passing it by.

Jonathan brought the fresh pint, and Tom filled for himself, drank, and said emphatically, and with a confounding voice: 

‘Your women have been setting you on me, sir!’

Andrew protested that he was entirely mistaken.

‘You’re the puppet of your women!’

’Well, Tom, not in this instance.  Here’s to the bachelors, and brother Tom at their head!’

It seemed to be Andrew’s object to help his companion to carry a certain quantity of Port, as if he knew a virtue it had to subdue him, and to have fixed on a particular measure that he should hold before he addressed him specially.  Arrived at this, he said: 

’Look here, Tom.  I know your ways.  I shouldn’t have bothered you here; I never have before; but we couldn’t very well talk it over in business hours; and besides you’re never at the Brewery till Monday, and the matter’s rather urgent.’

‘Why don’t you speak like that in Parliament?’ the old man interposed.

‘Because Parliament isn’t my brother,’ replied Mr. Andrew.  ’You know, Tom, you never quite took to my wife’s family.’

‘I’m not a match for fine ladies, Nan.’

’Well, Harriet would have taken to you, Tom, and will now, if you ’ll let her.  Of course, it ’s a pity if she ’s ashamed of—­hem!  You found it out about the Lymport people, Tom, and, you’ve kept the secret and respected her feelings, and I thank you for it.  Women are odd in those things, you know.  She mustn’t imagine I ’ve heard a whisper.  I believe it would kill her.’

The old gentleman shook silently.

’Do you want me to travel over the kingdom, hawking her for the daughter of a marquis?’