The historian records the attachment to public business which
distinguishes the British legislator.--Touching instance of the
regret which ever in patriotic bosoms attends the neglect of a
public duty.
From the dusty height of a rumble-tumble affixed to Lady Selina Vipont's
barouche, and by the animated side of Sir Gregory Stollhead, Vance caught
sight of Lionel and Sophy at a corner of the spacious green near the
Palace. He sighed; he envied them. He thought of the boat, the water,
the honeysuckle arbour at the little inn,--pleasures he had denied
himself,--pleasures all in his own way. They seemed still more alluring
by contrast with the prospect before him; formal dinner at the Star and
Garter, with titled Prymmes, Slowes, and Frosts, a couple of guineas a
head, including light wines, which he did not drink, and the expense of a
chaise back by himself. But such are life and its social duties,--such,
above all, ambition and a career. Who that would leave a name on his
tombstone can say to his own heart, "Perish Stars and Garters: my
existence shall pass from day to day in honeysuckle arbours!"
Sir Gregory Stollhead interrupted Vance's revery by an impassioned
sneeze. "Dreadful smell of hay!" said the legislator, with watery eyes.
"Are you subject to the hay fever? I am! A-tisha-tisha-tisha [sneezing]
--country frightfully unwholesome at this time of year. And to think
that I ought now to be in the House,--in my committee-room; no smell of
hay there; most important committee."
VANCE (rousing himself).--"Ah--on what?"
SIR GREGORY (regretfully).--"Sewers."