ing. And yet when he and Lord Beaufort returned home at night, thirsty, tired, and smoke-dried, they declared they had had a "glorious day," and never saw a finer set of fellows than the electors of Boroughford.
"We shall beat the duke out of the field," said Lord Beaufort to his father. "Luttridge was going sneaking about the town with only half the number of supporters he had last time; and I cannot hear of a second candidate on their side. Besides, we have gained a valuable friend; Tom Rogerson is heart and soul with us."
"That is indeed a great coup," said Lord Eskdale.
"He has cut the pinks dead, and is on our committee."
"What a clever speech he made at the Magpie and Stump!" said Ernest. "Eh, Beaufort, did it not strike you as something out of the common way?"
"Yes, excellent; but in election matters Tom Rogerson has not his equal on earth."
"Who is he, my dear?" said Lady Eskdale. "Where does he live?"
"Don't you know him?" said Ernest. "Well, I am astonished. I should have thought you must have known Mr. Rogerson, a neighbour; a man of talent, and a voter."
"No, my dear, I never heard of him till this moment; but I will ask him to dinner forthwith."
"Oh! pray do, there's a dear; he will be delighted to come: perhaps your hours are later than he is used to; but for once he might put up with that."
"Or we might dine earlier. I should not mind dining at seven to oblige a friend of yours; but where is he to be found?"
"I can give him your card when I see him to-morrow; he is very little at home now, but his ordinary abode is the front attic of No. 4, Hopscotch Alley, near the old market. I am not quite sure of the number, though I know Hopscotch Alley is the place."
