popping of the guns of his uncle and guests hung about his ears much like
their speech, which was unobjectionable in itself, but not sufficient; a
little hard, he thought, a little idle. He wanted something, and wanted
them to give their time and energy to something, that was not to be had
in a market. The nobles, he felt sure, might resume their natural
alliance with the people, and lead them, as they did of old, to the
battle-field. How might they? A comely Sussex lass could not well tell
him how. Sarcastic reports of the troublesome questioner represented him
applying to a nymph of the country for enlightenment. He thrilled
surprisingly under the charm of feminine beauty. 'The fellow's sound at
bottom,' his uncle said, hearing of his having really been seen walking
in the complete form proper to his budding age, that is, in two halves.
Nevil showed that he had gained an acquaintance with the struggles of the
neighbouring agricultural poor to live and rear their children. His
uncle's table roared at his enumeration of the sickly little beings,
consumptive or bandy-legged, within a radius of five miles of Steynham.
Action was what he wanted, Everard said. Nevil perhaps thought the same,
for he dashed out of his mooning with a wave of the Tory standard,
delighting the ladies, though in that conflict of the Lion and the
Unicorn (which was a Tory song) he seemed rather to wish to goad the dear
lion than crush the one-horned intrusive upstart. His calling on the
crack corps of Peers to enrol themselves forthwith in the front ranks,
and to anticipate opposition by initiating measures, and so cut out that
funny old crazy old galleon, the People, from under the batteries of the
enemy, highly amused the gentlemen.

Before rejoining his ship, Nevil paid his customary short visit of
ceremony to his great-aunt Beauchamp--a venerable lady past eighty,
hitherto divided from him in sympathy by her dislike of his uncle
Everard, who had once been his living hero. That was when he was in