isten to me. Here's my carriage waiting, and you're going
straight home with me to have a bite and a glass of wine. We can't
afford to lose our second agent, and I can see what's the matter with
you. You're as pale as a ghost, and no wonder. You've been at it all
day and never a break."

The young man called Brooks had not the energy to frame a refusal, which
he knew would be resented. He took down his overcoat, and stuffed the
letters into his pocket.

"You're very good," he said. "I'll come up for an hour with pleasure."

They passed out together into the street, and Mr. Bullsom opened the
door of his carriage.

"In with you, young man," he exclaimed. "Home, George!"

Kingston Brooks leaned back amongst the cushions with a little sigh of
relief.

"This is very restful," he remarked. "We have certainly had a very busy
day. The inside of electioneering may be disenchanting, but it's jolly
hard work."

Mr. Bullsom sat with clasped hands in front of him resting upon that
slight protuberance which denoted the advent of a stomach. He had
thrown away the cigar which he had lit in the committee-room. Mrs.
Bullsom did not approve of smoking in the covered wagonette, which she
frequently honoured with her presence.

"There's nothing in the world worth having that hasn't to be worked for,
my boy," he declared, good-humoredly.

"By other people!" Brooks remarked, smiling.

"That's as it may be," Mr. Bullsom admitted. "To my mind that's where
the art of the thing comes in. Any fool can work, but it takes a shrewd
man to keep a lot of others working hard for him while he pockets the
oof himself."

"I suppose," the younger man remarked, thoughtfully, "that you would
consider Mr. Henslow a shrewd man?"

"Shrewd! Oh, Henslow's shrewd enough. There's no question about that!"

"And honest?"

Mr. Bullsom hesitated. He drew his hand down his stubbly grey beard.

"Honest! Oh, yes, he's honest! You've no fault to find with him, eh?"

"None whatever," Brooks hastened to say. "You see," he continued more
slowly, "I have never been really behind the scenes in this sort of
thing before, and Henslow has such a very earnest manner in speaking.
He talked to the working men last night as though his one desire in life
was to further the different radical schemes which we have on the
programme. Why, the tears were actually in his eyes when he spoke of
the Old Age Pension Bill. He told them over and over again that the
passing of