in, which, as it
went spinning out into the sunshine, was deftly caught, spat upon, and
transferred to a pocket.

"Long life to Sir Rilton Lisle, and may his 'osses allus win! But
you'll buy the little dawg for her ladyship, your honour?"

Sir Hilton made an angry gesture, and the wretched-looking object
slouched off, just as the noise of gravel-grinding was heard, and the
Lisles' handsome victoria was driven up to the front door.

"There, Hilton," said the lady, reproachfully, "is it not horrible that
you should have come to such a state of degradation as that!"--and she
pointed in the direction taken by the tout.

"I--I?" cried her husband, firing up. "Hang it all, Laura, do you
compare me to that wretched cad?"

"No, no, my dear. I mean the degradation of being recognised by such a
miserable outcast."

"Humph! Poor wretch!"

"And I do object, love, to your indulging in casual relief. Be
charitable, of course, but give only to the deserving and good. There,"
she continued, advancing towards him to lay her hands upon his shoulders
and kiss him solemnly, "I'm not angry with you, darling, for you will
take these lessons to heart, I'm sure. Good-bye, love. Go and study up
your Blue Books, and think out your plan of campaign. I shall be back
soon to tell you that you may be sure of Mr Browse's vote."

"Thank you, my dear," said Sir Hilton, responding dreamily to the chilly
caress he received, the lady's lips being just on a level with his
forehead. "Here, I'll come to the carriage with you."

"No, no, no, love. Get to your Blue Books, and practise your speeches.
I'm going to work for and with you, not to be a hindrance. Get to work,
I want you to be a modern Cicero or Demosthenes. Good-bye--Good-bye."

Lady Lisle solemnly waved a kiss to her husband, and sailed out of the
room, leaving the dapper little baronet deep in thought and biting his
nails.

CHAPTER SIX.

THE LADY IN THE CASE.

"Blue Books! Blue Books! Confound the Blue Books!" cried Sir Hilton,
as he marched up and down the breakfast-room long after he had heard the
wheels of the departing victoria and the tramp of the handsome pair of
horses die out. "Who's to study Blue Books? Who's to practise speeches
with the weight of four thousand pounds on his mind?

"Speeches!" he cried angrily, after a few minutes, and he waved his
hands wildly. "I want no practice, after making such a Speech as I did
to Jack Granton. I must have