In this passage from Volume 1, the narrator uses verbal irony to offer a funny, biting commentary on the character Robert Audley:
Robert Audley was supposed to be a barrister. As a barrister was his name inscribed in the law-list; as a barrister he had chambers in Figtree Court, Temple; as a barrister he had eaten the allotted number of dinners, which form the sublime ordeal through which the forensic aspirant wades on to fame and fortune. If these things can make a man a barrister, Robert Audley decidedly was one.
In this description, Braddon presents Robert Audley's occupation with a clearly sarcastic tone. The assertion that he "was supposed to be a barrister" sets the tone for the ironic portrayal that follows. Audley works as a barrister. A barrister is a kind of lawyer in England and Wales who specializes in advocacy, or speaking in court on behalf of clients. However, Audley is one in name alone, as he never does anything beyond reap the benefits of his title and position in “Figtree Court, Temple.” As a barrister, Audley is permitted to occupy rooms in a set of lawyers' buildings called the Inner Temple. While “Figtree Court” is fictional, Inner Temple is a real place. It’s one of the four Inns of Court, grand institutions of legal education and practice in London.
The narrator points to some of the formalities “aspirants” to the Inns go through to become barristers and have their names "inscribed in the law-list." Prospectives usually undergo a difficult, competitive process of qualifying to become a member of an Inn of Court. Qualifying allows them to practice law and is referred to as being “called to the Bar.” Braddon lampoons the way aristocrats like Audley are able to avoid all this unpleasantness in this section of the novel. She writes that his “sublime ordeal” in being called to the Bar only really involved “eating the allotted number of dinners.” Rather than undergoing an arduous journey, Audley just had to eat and drink in the right place to achieve “fame and fortune.”
The narrator uses verbal irony by suggesting that Robert Audley is "decidedly" a barrister when it's clear that, for all intents and purposes, he isn't. Despite all appearances, he’s not genuinely engaged or professionally skilled. Through this irony, Braddon critiques Robert's potentially superficial engagement with his profession and also makes a broader comment on the "professions" of the upper class. In this passage, then, the narrative pokes fun at the emptiness beneath all Audley’s titles.
