few biscuits and the least little bit of
wedding-cake for luck."

"Pity I didn't take him to the reception; then he could have had a
vanilla ice as well."

"Wrong," said Jane. "They hadn't got vanilla--only the esoteric sorts. I
know, because I tried. Never you mind, Zero. When the election comes on,
you shall wear papa's colours round your strengthy neck and kill all the
collies of the opposition."

"By the way," said Richard, "how's old Benham?"

"Poor old chap, he's still dying," said Mr Murray. "It makes me feel a
bit like a vulture, waiting for his death like this. Still, I suppose it
can't be helped."

Benham was the sitting member for Sidlington, and Mr Murray had been
predestined to succeed him. Murray had fought two forlorn hopes for his
party, and had pulled down majorities. He had fairly earned
Sidlington--an absolutely safe seat. He had moderate means and no
occupation. He had taken up with politics ten years before--shortly
after the death of his wife--and had found politics a game that
precisely suited him.

The discussion for the remainder of dinner was mostly political, and
Jane--as was generally the case when she chose to be serious--showed
herself to be a remarkably well-informed and intelligent young woman.

"I've no chance; she's too good for me," said Richard to himself--by no
means for the first time--as he looked at her and listened to her with
admiration.

Jane had just left the two men to their cigars when a servant entered
with a card for Mr Murray.

"Where have you put him?" he asked the man.

"The gentleman is in the library, sir."

"Good! Say I'll be with him directly. Awfully sorry, Staines; this is a
chap from Sidlington, and rather an important old cock down there."

"Go to him, of course. That's all right."

"I'm afraid I must. But here's the port and here's the cigars. When you
get tired of solitude, you'll find Jane in the drawing-room. Smoking's
allowed there, you know."

Staines got tired of solitude very soon. In the drawing-room, the
conversation between Jane and himself took a new note of earnestness and
intimacy. Zero slept placidly through it all.

An hour later Mr Murray came back to the drawing-room with the news of
Benham's death. He in return received, with goodwill and no surprise,
the news that a marriage bad been arranged, and would shortly take
place, between his daughter and Richard Staines.

CHAPTER IV

During the engagement, which was br