l, that's going to fire the public
imagination and bring the Tories back into power----'

'So he will.'

'Not if he disappoints meetings,' said Farnborough, hotly; 'not if he
goes calmly up to town, and leaves the field to the Liberals.'

'When did he do anything like that?'

'Yesterday!' Farnborough flung out the accusation as he strode up and
down before the divan. 'And now he's got this other preoccupation----'

'You mean----?'

'Yes, your niece--the spoilt child of fortune.' Farnborough stopped
suddenly and smacked his forehead. 'Of _course_!'--he wheeled round upon
Lady John with accusing face--'I understand it now. _She_ kept him from
the meeting last night! _Well!_'--he collapsed in the nearest chair--'if
that's the effect she's going to have, it's pretty serious!'

'You are,' said his hostess.

'I can assure you the election agent's more so. He's simply tearing his
hair.'

She had risen. 'How do you know?' she asked more gravely.

'He told me so himself, yesterday. I scraped acquaintance with the
agent, just to see if--if----'

'I see,' she smiled. 'It's not only here that you manoeuvre for that
secretaryship!'

As Lady John moved towards the staircase she looked at the clock.
Farnborough jumped up and followed her, saying confidentially--

'You see, you can never tell when your chance might come. The election
chap's promised to keep me posted. Why, I've even taken the trouble to
arrange with the people at the station to receive any message that might
come over from Dutfield.'

'For you?' She smiled at his self-importance.

Breathlessly he hurried on: 'Immense unexpected pressure of work, you
know--now that we've forced the Liberals to appeal to the country----'

He stopped as the sound of light steps came flying through the lobby,
and a young girl rushed into the hall calling out gaily--

'Aunt Ellen! Here I----'

She stopped precipitately, and her outstretched arms fell to her sides.
A radiant, gracious figure, she stood poised an instant, the light of
gladness in her eyes only partially dimmed by the horrid spectacle of an
interloper in the person of a strange young man.

'My darling Jean!'

Lady John went forward and kissed her at the moment that the master of
the house came hurrying in from the garden with a cheerful--

'I _thought_ that was you running up the avenue!'

'Uncle, dear!'

The pretty vision greeted him with the air of a privileged child of the
house, interrupting o