"I will think
over what you have said."

CHAPTER III

WANTED--A POLITICIAN

Sir Leslie carefully closed the iron gate behind him, and looked around.

"But where," he asked, "are the roses?"

Clara laughed outright.

"You may be a great politician, Sir Leslie," she declared, "but you are
no gardener. Roses don't bloom out of doors in May--not in these parts at
any rate."

"I understand," he assented, humbly. "This is where the roses will be."

She nodded.

"That wall, you see," she explained, "keeps off the north winds, and the
chestnut grove the east. There is sun here all the day long. You should
come to Blakely in two months' time, Sir Leslie. Everything is so
different then."

He sighed.

"You forget, my dear child," he murmured, "that you are speaking to a
slave."

"A slave!" she repeated. "How absurd! You are a Cabinet Minister, are
you not, Sir Leslie?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I was once," he answered, "until an ungrateful country grew weary of the
monotony of perfect government and installed our opponents in our places.
Just now we are in opposition."

"In opposition," she repeated, a little vaguely.

"Meaning," he explained, "that we get all the fun, no responsibility,
and, alas, no pay."

"How fascinating," she exclaimed. "Do sit down here, and tell me all
about it. But I forgot. You are not used to sitting down out of doors.
Perhaps you will catch cold."

Sir Leslie smiled.

"I am inclined to run the risk," he said gravely, "if you will share it.
Seriously, though, these rustic seats are rather a delusion, aren't they,
from the point of view of comfort?"

"There shall be cushions," she declared, "for the next time you come."

He sighed.

"Ah, the next time! I dare not look forward to it. So you are interested
in politics, Miss Mannering?"

"Well, I believe I am," she answered, a little doubtfully. "To tell you
the truth, Sir Leslie, I am shockingly ignorant. You must live in London
to be a politician, mustn't you?"

"It is necessary," he assented, "to spend some part of your time there,
if you want to come into touch with the real thing."

"Then I am very interested in politics," she declared. "Please go on."

He shook his head.

"I would rather you talked to me about the roses. You should ask your
uncle to tell you all about politics. He knows far more than I do."

"More than you! But you have been a Cabinet Minister!" she exclaimed.

"So was your uncle o