First, he bowed low to Mr. Gladstone in gratitude--and
then the tears sprang to his eyes; his lips trembled painfully, and his
hand sprang to his forehead, as though to hide the woman's tears that
did honour to his manhood. And, curiously enough, the feeling did not
pass away. I know not whether Mr. Chamberlain was out of sorts on this
great night; but his manner was very different on this night of nights;
indeed, from what it has been at every other period of this fierce,
stormy Session. He cheered as loudly and as frequently as the best of
the rank and file--interrupted--in short, manifested all the passions of
the hour. But on that Friday night--specially after this allusion of
Mr. Gladstone's to his son--he sate silent, and in a far-off reverie.
But the Old Man still passes on his triumphant way--now gently, now
stormy--listened to in delight from all parts; and when he is now and
then interrupted by some small and rude Tory, dismissing the
interruption with delightful composure and a good humour that nothing
can disturb. It is only the marvellous powers of the man that can keep
the House patient, for it is pointing to one o'clock, and the division
has not yet come.
Pages:
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228