where the Radicals are, everybody's for him. Eh, Mr Christian? Come—you're at the fountainhead—what do they say about it now at the Manor?"
When general attention was called to Christian, young Joyce looked down at his own legs and touched the curves of his own hair, as if measuring his own approximation to that correct copy of a gentleman. Mr Wace turned his head to listen for Christian's answer with that tolerance of inferiority which becomes men in places of public resort.
"They think it will be a hard run between Transome and Garstin," said Christian. "It depends on Transome's getting plumpers."
"Well, I know I shall not split for Garstin," said Mr Wace. "It's nonsense for Debarry's voters to split for a Whig. A man's either a Tory or not a Tory."
"It seems reasonable there should be one of each side," said Mr Timothy Rose. "I don't like showing favour either way. If one side can't lower the Poor's rates and take off the Tithe, let the other try."
"But there's this in it, Wace," said Mr Sircome. "I'm not altogether against the Whigs. For they don't want to go so far as the Radicals do, and when they find they've slipped a bit too far, they'll hold on all the tighter. And the Whigs have got
