Mr.Mellor has to answer this fateful question, and everybody cries "Order, order," which is the House of Commons way of saying that people are very anxious to hear what is about to be said.

Mr.Mellor gives an answer that satisfies Mr.Shaw.

Mr.Dalziel--another sturdy Scotch Radical--is also satisfied; and so we have all the Liberal vote, with the single exception of Labby--who quickly--furtively--almost shamefacedly--rushes off into the Tory lobby.
[Sidenote: Hoisting the numbers.] And now the division takes place.

There have been several speeches--usually of a minute each--before the final hour comes; but we are all so anxious to know what fate is in store for us, that we cannot stand the strain any longer.

The division--the division--let us know the worst.