"Of course I did," Brooks answered, "and I told you from the first that
you were going to make a lot of money by it."

Mr. Bullsom glanced around the room. The two maid-servants were at the
sideboard.

"Guess how much."

Brooks shook his head.

"I never knew your exact share," he said.

"It's half a million," Mr. Bullsom said, pulling down his waistcoat,
and squaring himself to the table. "Not bad, eh, for a country spec?"

"It's wonderful," Brooks admitted. "I congratulate you heartily."

"Thanks," Mr. Bullsom answered.

"We want papa to buy a house in the country, and go to town for the
season," Selina said. "So long as we can afford it I am dying to get
out of Medchester. It is absolutely the most commercial town I have
ever been in.

"Your father should stand for Parliament himself," Brooks suggested.

It is really possible that Mr. Bullsom, being a man governed entirely
by one idea at a time, had never seriously contemplated the possibility
of himself stepping outside the small arena of local politics. It is
certain at any rate that Brooks' words came to him as an inspiration.
He stared for a moment into his glass--then at Brooks. Finally he
banged the table with the flat of his hand.

"It's an idea!" he exclaimed. "Why not?"

"Why not, indeed?" Brooks answered. "You'd be a popular candidate for
the borough."

"I'm chairman of the committee," Mr. Bullsom declared; "I'll propose
myself. I've taken the chair at political dinners and meetings for the
last twenty years. I know the runs, and the people of Medchester know
me. Why not, indeed? Mr. Brooks, sir, you're a genius."

"You 'ave given him something to think about," Mrs. Bullsom murmured,
amiably. "I'd be willing enough but for the late hours. They never did
agree with Peter--did they? He's always been such a one for his rest."

Mr. Bullsom's thumbs made their accustomed pilgrimage.

"In the service of one's country," he said, "one should be prepared to
make sacrifices. The champagne, Amy. Besides, one can always sleep in
the morning."

Selina and Louise exchanged glances, and Selina, as the elder, gave the
project her languid approval.

"It would be nice for us in a way," she remarked. "Of course you would
have a house in London then, papa, and being an M.P. you would get
cards for us to a lot of 'at homes' and things. Only I wish you were a
Conservative."

"A Liberal is much more fashionable than he was," Brooks assured her,
cheerfully.