rself, can it?" asked Kilshaw, in bland
innocence. "No, no; Lady Eynesford's one of us, and there's an end of
it--though of course I wouldn't say it openly. Look at the different way
she treats the Puttocks since they left you!"

"It's highly improper," observed Coxon.

"I grant it; but she's fond of Perry, and sees through his glasses. And
then you must allow for her natural prejudices. Is Medland the sort of
man who would suit her? Candidly now?"

"She needn't identify us all with Medland?"

"Come and have a cigar. Ah, there's Sir John! How are you, Chief
Justice? Looks a bit shaky, doesn't he? Come along, Coxon."

So saying, Kilshaw led the way to the smoking-room, and, when the pair
were comfortably settled, he recurred to his topic.

"I remember her asking me--in confidence of course, and, all the same,
perhaps not very discreetly--what in the world made you go over, and
what made you stay over."

"And you said----?"

"I didn't know what to say. I never did understand, and I understand
less than ever now."

"Haven't I explained in the House?"

"Oh, in the House! I tell you what it is, Coxon,--and you must stop me
if you don't like to hear it--I shall always consider Medland got your
support on false pretences."

Coxon did not stop him. He sat and bit his finger-nail while Kilshaw
pointed out the discrepancies between what Medland had foreshadowed and
what he was doing. He did not consciously exaggerate, but he made as
good a case as he could; and he talked to an ear inclined to listen.

"He caught you and Puttock on false pretences--utterly false pretences,"
Kilshaw ended. "Puttock saw it pretty soon."

"I was too stupid, I suppose?"

"Well, if you like," said Kilshaw, with a laugh. "I suppose when one
doesn't appreciate a man's game, one calls him stupid."

"I have no game," said Coxon stiffly.

"My dear fellow, I didn't mean it offensively. I'm sure you haven't, for
if ever a man was sacrificing his position and his future on the altar
of his convictions, you are."

Mr. Coxon looked noble, and felt uncomfortable.

"In a month or two," continued Kilshaw, laying his hand on his
neighbour's arm and speaking impressively, "Medland will be not only out
of office, but a discredited man."

"Why?" asked the other uneasily, for Kilshaw's words implied some hidden
knowledge: without that he could not have ventured on such a prophecy to
a colleague of the Premier's.

"Never mind why. You know you c