especially, and you know that he has a very strange
disposition. I am convinced that solitude is the very worst thing for
him. I saw him once after he had been alone for a month or two, and
really you would not have known him. He was as thin as a skeleton,
strange in his manner, and he had that sort of red light in his eyes
sometimes which always makes me think of mad people. He ought not to be
alone at all, but the usual sort of society only bores him. You will do
what you can, won't you?"

"I promise you that most heartily," Brooks declared. "But you must
remember, Lady Sybil, that after all it is entirely in his hands. He
has been most astonishingly kind to me, considering that I have no
manner of claim upon him. He has made me feel at home at Enton, too,
and been most thoughtful in every way. For, after all, you see I am
only his man of business. I have no friends much, and those whom I
have are Medchester people. You see I am scarcely in a position to
offer him my society. But all the same, I will take every opportunity I
can of going to Enton if he remains there."

She thanked him silently. Lady Caroom was on her feet, and Sybil and
she went out for their wraps. Lord Arranmore lit a fresh cigarette and
sent for his bill.

"By the bye, Brooks," he remarked, "one doesn't hear much of your man
Henslow."

"Mr. Bullsom and I were talking about it this evening," Brooks
answered. "We are getting a little anxious.

"You have had seven years of him. You ought to know what to expect."

"The war has blocked all legislation," Brooks said. "It has been the
usual excuse. Henslow was bound to wait. He would have done the
particular measures which we are anxious about more harm than good if he
had tried to force them upon the land. But now it is different. We are
writing to him. If nothing comes of it, Mr. Bullsom and I are going up
to see him."

Arranmore smiled.

"You are young to politics, Brooks," he remarked, "yet I should scarcely
have thought that you would have been imposed upon by such a man as
Henslow. He is an absolute fraud. I heard him speak once, and I read
two of his speeches. It was sufficient. The man is not in earnest. He
has some reason, I suppose, for wishing to write M.P. after his name,
but I am perfectly certain that he has not the slightest idea of
carrying out his pledges to you. You will have to take up politics,
Brooks."

He laughed--a little consciously.

"Some day," he said, "the opport