have no choice left to them.”  “They are quite satisfied,” said Lady Laura, angrily.  “Then, Lady Laura,” continued Phineas, “that alone should be sufficient to prove that their privilege of returning a member to Parliament is too much for them.  We can’t defend it.”  “It is defended by tradition,” said Mr. Kennedy.  “And by its great utility,” said Lady Laura, bowing to the young member who was present, and forgetting that very useless old gentleman, her cousin, who had sat for the borough for many years.  “In this country it doesn’t do to go too fast,” said Mr. Kennedy.  “And then the mixture of vulgarity, falsehood, and pretence!” said Lady Laura, shuddering as her mind recurred to the fact that Mr. Quintus Slide had contaminated Loughton by his presence.  “I am told that they hardly let him leave the place alive.”

Whatever Mr. Kennedy and Lady Laura might think about Loughton and the general question of small boroughs, it was found by the Government, to their great cost, that Mr. Turnbull’s clause was a reality.  After two months of hard work, all questions of franchise had been settled, rating and renting, new and newfangled, fancy franchises and those which no one fancied, franchises for boroughs and franchises for counties, franchises single, dual, three-cornered, and four-sided,—­by various clauses to which the Committee of the whole House had agreed after some score of divisions,—­the matter of the franchise had been settled.  No doubt there was the House of Lords, and there might yet be shipwreck.  But it was generally believed that the Lords would hardly look at the bill,—­that they would not even venture on an amendment.  The Lords would only be too happy to let the matter be settled by the Commons themselves.  But then, after the franchise, came redistribution.  How sick of the subject were all members of the Government, no one could tell who did not see their weary faces.  The whole House was sick, having been whipped into various lobbies, night after night, during the heat of the summer, for weeks past.  Redistribution!  Why should there be any redistribution?  They had got, or would get, a beautiful franchise.  Could they not see what that would do for them?  Why redistribute anything?  But, alas, it was too late to go back to so blessed an idea as that!  Redistribution they must have.  But there should be as little redistribution as possible.  Men were sick of it all, and would not be exigeant.  Something should be done for overgrown counties;—­something for new towns which had prospered in brick and mortar.  It would be easy to crush up a peccant borough or two,—­a borough that had been discovered in its sin.  And a few boroughs now blessed with two members might consent to be blessed only with one.  Fifteen small clauses might settle the redistribution, in spite of Mr. Turnbull,—­if only Mr. Daubeny would be good-natured.