uldn't fit into our electoral campaign! No
danger of my preaching bloodthirstiness. But how I shall enjoy the
bloodless fight down at Polterham! I want you to look forward to it in
the same way. Do cheer up, Lily!--you see I have been gradually moving
in this direction. When I found myself a man of means, I knew that the
time had come for stirring. Writing about the Sea-Kings is all very
well in its way, but I am no born literary man. I must get that book
finished and published, though. It might help me with the constituency.
A book gives a man distinction."

"You seem to me to have changed very much."

"No; it's only that you didn't know me thoroughly. To tell you the
truth, that life of hiding away in London wasn't a very good thing for
me. I lived too much to myself. The half-dozen acquaintances I had were
not the kind of men to profit me. Glazzard--well, Glazzard is an odd
sort of fellow--helpful now and then, but on the whole musty. He has no
ambition, thinks it enough to doze on among his pictures, and that kind
of thing. The fact is, such companionship has made me conceited. I want
to get among my equals and my superiors--as I shall do if I become a
Member of Parliament."

"Your equals--perhaps."

"Confound it! _Your_ influence has tended the same way. You spoil
me--make me think myself a fine fellow. I suppose one's wife ought to
talk like that--I don't dislike it, you know; but if I end by never
doing anything at all, I should be confoundedly ashamed of myself. But
the more I think of it, the better satisfied I am that a political
career is the best thing for me. You see, this is the age of political
progress--that before everything. We English are working out our
revolution in a steady and sensible way,--no shrieking and
slaughtering--we leave that to people who don't really know what they
want, and will never get much to speak of. We go ahead soberly on the
constitutional highway--with a little hearty swearing to clear the air
now and then."

Lilian laughed.

"Well, I was saying it is a political age, and I think a man ought to
go in for the first interest of his time. What have we to do just now
with artistic aims? The English, at any time, care little or nothing
for art; one has to recognize that. Our task in the world is
practical--to secure all men a sufficiency of beef and beer, and honest
freedom. I like to feel that I am on the advancing wave; I don't care
for your picturesque ponds; they gener