Mr.Romfrey considered him to be insatiable for service.

Beauchamp, during his absence, had shown himself awake to the affairs of his country once only, in an urgent supplication he had forwarded for all his uncle's influence to be used to get him appointed to the first vacancy in Robert Hall's naval brigade, then forming a part of our handful in insurgent India.

The fate of that chivalrous Englishman, that born sailor-warrior, that truest of heroes, imperishable in the memory of those who knew him, and in our annals, young though he was when death took him, had wrung from Nevil Beauchamp such a letter of tears as to make Mr.Romfrey believe the naval crown of glory his highest ambition.

Who on earth could have guessed him to be bothering his head about politics all the while! Or was the whole stupid business a freak of the moment?
It became necessary for Mr.Romfrey to contemplate his eccentric nephew in the light of a mannikin once more.

Consequently he called to mind, and bade Rosamund Culling remember, that he had foreseen and had predicted the mounting of Nevil Beauchamp on his political horse one day or another; and perhaps the earlier the better.