In the course of the evening a letter was brought
to Captain Cuttwater, which did not seem to raise
his spirits.
‘Whom is your letter from, uncle?’ said
Mrs. Woodward.
‘From Alaric,’ said he, gruffly, crumpling
it up and putting it into his pocket. And then
he turned to his rum and water in a manner that showed
his determination to say nothing more on the matter.
In the morning Harry and Charley returned to town.
Captain Cuttwater went up with them; and all was again
quiet at Surbiton Cottage.
MR. M’BUFFER ACCEPTS THE CHILTERN HUNDREDS
It was an anxious hour for the Honourable Undecimus
Scott when he first learnt that Mr. M’Buffer
had accepted the Stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds.
The Stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds! Does
it never occur to anyone how many persons are appointed
to that valuable situation? Or does anyone ever
reflect why a Member of Parliament, when he wishes
to resign his post of honour, should not be simply
gazetted in the newspapers as having done so, instead
of being named as the new Steward of the Chiltern
Hundreds? No one ever does think of it; resigning
and becoming a steward are one and the same thing,
with this difference, however, that one of the grand
bulwarks of the British constitution is thus preserved.
Well, Mr. M’Buffer, who, having been elected
by the independent electors of the Tillietudlem burghs
to serve them in Parliament, could not, in accordance
with the laws of the constitution, have got himself
out of that honourable but difficult position by any
scheme of his own, found himself on a sudden a free
man, the Queen having selected him to be her steward
for the district in question. We have no doubt
but that the deed of appointment set forth that her
Majesty had been moved to this step by the firm trust
she had in the skill and fidelity of the said Mr. M’Buffer;
but if so her Majesty’s trust would seem to have
been somewhat misplaced, as Mr. M’Buffer, having
been a managing director of a bankrupt swindle, from
which he had contrived to pillage some thirty or forty
thousand pounds, was now unable to show his face at
Tillietudlem, or in the House of Commons; and in thus
retreating from his membership had no object but to
save himself from the expulsion which he feared.
It was, however, a consolation for him to think that
in what he had done the bulwarks of the British constitution
had been preserved.
It was an anxious moment for Undy. The existing
Parliament had still a year and a half, or possibly
two years and a half, to run. He had already
been withdrawn from the public eye longer than he
thought was suitable to the success of his career.
He particularly disliked obscurity for he had found
that in his case obscurity had meant comparative poverty.
An obscure man, as he observed early in life, had
nothing to sell. Now, Undy had once had something
