Her friend had bowed and
vanished, and she was left to all purposes alone, for she never
heeded those about her, though some of them looked at her hard enough,
wondering at her form and beauty, and who she might be.
She cast her eye down over the crowded House, and saw a vision of hats,
collars, and legs, and heard a tumult of sounds: the sharp voice of
a speaker who was rapidly losing his temper, the plaudits of the
Government benches, the interruptions from the Opposition--yes, even
yells, and hoots, and noises, that reminded her remotely of the crowing
of cocks. Possibly had she thought of it, Beatrice would not have been
greatly impressed with the dignity of an assembly, at the doors of
which so many of its members seemed to leave their manners, with their
overcoats and sticks; it might even have suggested the idea of a bear
garden to her mind. But she simply did not think about it. She searched
the House keenly enough, but it was to find one face, and one only--Ah!
there he was.
And now the House of Commons might vanish into the bottomless abyss,
and take with it the House of Lords, and what remained of the British
Constitution, and she would never miss them.
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