ng."

"You will help?" she added, fixing on Joan her great, grave eyes.

Joan promised, and the child went out. She looked pretty when she
smiled. She closed the door behind her noiselessly.

It occurred to Joan that she would like to talk matters over with
Greyson. There was "Clorinda's" attitude to be decided upon; and she was
interested to know what view he himself would take. Of course he would
be on P---'s side. The _Evening Gazette_ had always supported the "gas
and water school" of socialism; and to include the people's food was
surely only an extension of the principle. She rang him up and Miss
Greyson answered, asking her to come round to dinner: they would be
alone. And she agreed.

The Greysons lived in a small house squeezed into an angle of the Outer
Circle, overlooking Regent's Park. It was charmingly furnished, chiefly
with old Chippendale. The drawing-room made quite a picture. It was
home-like and restful with its faded colouring, and absence of all show
and overcrowding. They sat there after dinner and discussed Joan's news.
Miss Greyson was repairing a piece of old embroidery she had brought back
with her from Italy; and Greyson sat smoking, with his hands behind his
head, and his long legs stretched out towards the fire.

"Carleton will want him to make his food policy include Tariff Reform,"
he said. "If he prove pliable, and is willing to throw over his free
trade principles, all well and good."

"What's Carleton got to do with it?" demanded Joan with a note of
indignation.

He turned his head towards her with an amused raising of the eyebrows.
"Carleton owns two London dailies," he answered, "and is in treaty for a
third: together with a dozen others scattered about the provinces. Most
politicians find themselves, sooner or later, convinced by his arguments.
Phillips may prove the exception."

"It would be rather interesting, a fight between them," said Joan.
"Myself I should back Phillips."

"He might win through," mused Greyson. "He's the man to do it, if
anybody could. But the odds will be against him."

"I don't see it," said Joan, with decision.

"I'm afraid you haven't yet grasped the power of the Press," he answered
with a smile. "Phillips speaks occasionally to five thousand people.
Carleton addresses every day a circle of five million readers."

"Yes, but when Phillips does speak, he speaks to the whole country,"
retorted Joan.

"Through the medium of Carle