."

"Sir Leslie is in the study now, miss," the man answered. "I showed him
in there because I thought he would want to see Mr. Mannering, but he
asked for you."

"Will you say that I shall be there in three minutes," Clara said.

The three minutes became rather a long quarter of an hour, but Clara had
used the time well. When she entered the library she had changed her
dress, rearranged her hair, and by some means or another had lost her
unnatural pallor. Sir Leslie greeted her a little gravely,

"Glad to see you looking so fit," he remarked. "They did us a bit too
well down at Bristow, I thought. It's all very well for you children,"
he continued, with a smile, "but when a man gets to my time of life he
misses a night's rest."

She smiled.

"You don't call yourself old, Sir Leslie!" she remarked.

"Well, I'm not young, although I like to think I am," he answered. "I'm
afraid there's pretty nearly a generation between us, Miss Clara. By the
bye, where's your uncle this morning?"

"Getting up," she answered. "He did not go to bed until after five,
Perkins tells me. He brought some one home with him from Dorchester's
reception, or some one he picked up afterwards, and they seem to have sat
up talking all night."

Borrowdean was interested.

"You have no idea who it was, I suppose?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"None at all. Perkins had never seen him before. When do you poor
creatures get your holiday, Sir Leslie?"

He smiled.

"The session will be over in about three weeks," he answered, "unless we
defeat the Government before then. Your uncle has been hitting them very
hard lately. I think before long we shall be in office."

"Politics," she said, "seems to be rather a greedy sort of business. You
are always trying to turn the other side out, aren't you?"

"You must remember," he answered, "that politics is rather a one-sided
sort of affair. The party which is in makes a very comfortable living
out of it, and we who are out have to scrape along as best we can. Rather
hard upon people like your uncle and myself, who are, comparatively
speaking, poor men. That reminds me," he said, bringing out his
pocket-book, "I thought that I had better bring you these little
documents."

"Those horrid I.O.U.'s," she remarked.

"Yes," he answered. "I am sorry that you were so unlucky. I bought these
from the bank, Miss Clara, as I thought you would not feel comfortable if
you had to leave Bristow owing this