"As for the possibility of the House of Lords preventing a reform of Parliament, I hold it to be the most absurd notion that ever entered into human imagination. I do not mean to be disrespectful, but the attempt of the Lords to stop the progress of Reform reminds me very forcibly of the great storm at Sidmouth, and of the conduct of the excellent Mrs. Partington on that occasion. In the winter of 1824, there set in a great flood upon that town; the waves rushed in upon the houses; and everything was threatened with destruction. In the midst of this sublime and terrible storm, Dame Partington--who lived upon the beach--was seen at the door of her house, with mop and pattens, trundling her mop, squeezing out the sea-water, and vigorously pushing away the Atlantic Ocean. The Atlantic was roused. Mrs. Partington's spirit was up; but I need not tell you, the contest was unequal. The Atlantic Ocean beat Mrs. Partington. She was excellent at a slop or a puddle; but she should not have meddled with a tempest. Gentlemen, be at your ease, be quiet and steady. You will beat Mrs. Partington."[2]
------ [Footnote 2: Speech at Taunton by Sydney Smith, October 12, 1831.]
"It was not respectful to liken the Lords of England to an old woman, now was it, Mother?" asked the Squire.
But Mrs. Atheling only laughed the more, and the conversation drifted so completely into politics that Kitty and Annie grew weary of it, and said they wished to go to their rooms. And as they left the parlour together, Edgar suddenly stayed Kitty a moment, and said, "I had nearly forgotten to tell you something. Miss Vyner is to be married, on the second of December, to Cecil North. I am going to London in time for the wedding."
And Kitty said, "I am glad to hear it, Edgar," and quickly closed the door. But she lay long awake, wondering what influence this event would have upon Piers and his future, until, finally, the wonder passed into a little verse which they had learned together; and with it singing in her heart, she fell asleep:--
"Thou art mine! I am thine! Thou art locked in this heart of mine; Whereof is lost the little key: So there, forever, thou must be!"
In the first joy of their return home, Squire Atheling and his son had not chosen to alarm the women of the family; yet the condition of the country was such as filled with terror every thoughtful mind. The passionate emotion evoked by the second rejection of the Reform Bill did not abate. Tumultuous meetings were held in every town and village as the news reached them; houses were draped in black; shops were closed; and the bells of the churches tolled backward. In London the populace was quite uncontrollable. Vast crowds filled the streets, cheering the Reform leaders, and denouncing with furious execrations the members of either House who had opposed the Bill. The Duke of Newcastle, the Marquis of Londonderry, and many other peers were not saved from the anger of the people without struggle and danger. Nottingham Castle, the seat of the Duke of Newcastle, was burnt to the ground; and Belvoir Castle, the seat of the Duke of Rutland, was barely saved. Bristol saw a series of riots, and during them suffered greatly from fire, and the Bishop's palace was reduced to ashes.