ainly written with conspicuous ability.

Why not give him information?--cautiously, of course, and with
discretion. What harm could it do--to Ferrier or any one else? The party
was torn by dissensions; and the first and most necessary step toward
reunion was that Ferrier's aims and methods should be thoroughly
understood. No doubt in these letters, as he had himself pointed out, he
had expressed himself with complete, even dangerous freedom. But there
was not going to be any question of putting them into Barrington's
hands. Certainly not!--merely a quotation--a reference here and there.

As he began to sketch his own share in the expected conversation, a
pleasant feeling of self-importance crept in, soothing to the wounds of
the preceding week. Secretly Marsham knew that he had never yet made the
mark in politics that he had hoped to make, that his abilities entitled
him to make. The more he thought of it the more he realized that the
coming half-hour might be of great significance in English politics; he
had it in his own power to make it so. He was conscious of a strong
wish to impress Barrington--perhaps Ferrier also. After all, a man grows
up, and does not remain an Eton boy, or an undergraduate, forever. It
would be well to make Ferrier more aware than he was of that fact.

In the midst of his thoughts the door opened, and Barrington--a man
showing in his dark-skinned, large-featured alertness the signs of
Jewish pliancy and intelligence--walked in.

"Are you up to conversation?" he said, laughing. "You look pretty done!"

"If I can whisper you what you want," said Oliver, huskily, "it's at
your service! There are the cigarettes."

The talk lasted long. Midnight was near before the two men separated.

* * * * *

The news of Marsham's election reached Ferrier under Sir James Chide's
roof, in the pleasant furnished house about four miles from Beechcote,
of which he had lately become the tenant in order to be near Diana. It
was conveyed in a letter from Lady Lucy, of which the conclusion ran
as follows:

"It is so strange not to have you here this evening--not to
be able to talk over with you all these anxieties and trials.
I can't help being a little angry with Sir James. We are the
oldest friends.

"Of course I have often been anxious lately lest Oliver
should have done anything to offend you. I have spoken to him
about that tiresome meetin