an excellent man, whom indeed it surprised him to see in a London drawing-room, but who, many years ago wlien Darrell was canvassing the enUghtened constituency of Ouzelford, had been on a visit to the chairman of his committee—an influen- tial trader—and having connections in the town—and, being a very high character, had done him good service in the canvass. Darrell rarely forgot a face, and never a service. At any time he would have been glad to see the worthy man once more, but at that time he was grateful indeed.
"Excuse me," he said, bluntly, to Mr. Poole; " but I see an old friend." He moved on, and thick as the crowd had become, it made way with respect, as to royalty, for the distinguished orator. The buzz of admiration as he passed—louder than in drawing rooms more refined—would have had sweeter music than Grisi's most artful quaver to a vainer man—nay, once on a time to him. But—sugar-plums come too late! He gained the corner, and roused the solitary sitter.
"My dear Mr. Hartopp, do you not remember me—Guy Darrell?"
"Mr. Darrell!" cried the ex-mayor of Gatesboro' rising, " who could think that you would remember mel"
"What! not remember those ten stubborn voters, on whom, all and singly, I had lavished my powers of argument in vain? You came, and with the brief words, ' John—Ned—Dick—oblige me—vote for Darrell! ' the men were convinced—the votes won. That's what I call eloquence "—{sotto voce—" Confound that fellow! still after me!"—Aside to Hartopp)—" Oh! may I ask who is that Mr.—what's his name—there—in the white waist- coat?"
"Poole," answered Hartopp. "Who is he, Sir? A specula- tive man. He is connected with a new company—I am told it answers. Williams (that's my foreman—a very long head he has too) has taken shares in the Company, and wanted me to do the same, but 'tis not in my way. And Mr. Poole maybe a very honest man, but he does not impress me with that idea. I have grown careless; I know I am liable to be taken in—I was so once—and therefore I avoid ' Companies ' upon principle— especially when they promise thirty per cent., and work copper mines—Mr, Poole has a copper mine."
"And deals in brass—you may see it in his face! But you are not in town for good, Mr. Hartopp? If I remember right, you were settled at Gatesboro' when we last met."
"And so I am still—or rather in ihe neighborhood. I am gradually retiring from business, and grown more and more fond
