room for him? Sir, he's a Member of Parliament.—Let that fool hold his tongue there; why do we silently listen to all his prosing stuff? Sir, he's a Member of Parliament.—What; bells ringing, children huzzaing, corporation men sweating at this rate, to welcome that poor looking creature to your town? To be sure; he's a Member of Parliament.—Ay, so it is! I too have mixed with the ignoble crowd to stare upon men thus honoured. I have only now to over-step the bounds, and be myself the very thing I gazed at. (pausing again.)—There is indeed a toll, a price of entrance that must be paid, and my heart stands back from it; but there is no other way than this, and what I would wear I must purchase. O it is well worth its price! To be but known and named as filling such a place in society brings pleasure with it. And in the eyes of our early friends too—Methinks I can see at this moment every curious face in my native village gathering about the letter-boy, as he sets out upon his rounds, to look with grinning admiration upon my first franks. "Free, Seabright;" ha, ha, ha! (laughing to himself and rubbing his hands together with great complacency.)
Enter Robert.
Sea. (turning round shortly like one who is caught.) What brings you here, sirrah?
Rob. You desired me to tell you, Sir, when Miss Seabright returned from her walk.
Sea. (with his countenance changed) And is she so soon returned?
