But it was known that Lord Tulla was dreadfully jealous of Mr.
Lambert St. George, whose property in that part of the county was now
nearly equal to his own, and who saw much more company at Mockrath
than was ever entertained at Castlemorris. A word from Lord
Tulla,--so said the Conservatives of the county,--would have put
Mr. St. George into the seat; but that word was not spoken, and
the Conservatives of the neighbourhood swore that Lord Tulla was a
renegade. The contest was very sharp, but our hero was returned by a
majority of seventeen votes.
Again successful! As he thought of it he remembered stories of great
generals who were said to have chained Fortune to the wheels of their
chariots, but it seemed to him that the goddess had never served
any general with such staunch obedience as she had displayed in his
cause. Had not everything gone well with him;--so well, as almost to
justify him in expecting that even yet Violet Effingham would become
his wife? Dear, dearest Violet! If he could only achieve that, no
general, who ever led an army across the Alps, would be his equal
either in success or in the reward of success. Then he questioned
himself as to what he would say to Miss Flood Jones on that very
night. He was to meet dear little Mary Flood Jones that evening at a
neighbour's house.
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