l.

"Supposing," she said, "some day you were a sort of Lord Stamfordham."

"That is rather a far cry," he replied. "By the way, I wonder where the
papers are this morning? Why are they so late?"

"They will come directly," Rachel said. "It is a very good thing they're
late, you can eat your breakfast in peace for once without knowing what
has happened."

"That is not the proper spirit," said Rendel smiling, "for the wife of a
future great man."

"The only thing is," said Rachel, "that if you did become a great man, I
don't think I should be the sort of wife for you. I am very stupid about
politics, don't you think so? I don't understand things properly."

"I think you are exactly the sort of wife I want," said Rendel, "and
that is enough for me. That is the only thing necessary for you to
understand. I don't believe you do understand it really."

"Then are you quite sure," she said, half laughing and half in earnest,
"that you don't like politics better than you do me?"

"Absolutely certain," said Rendel, with a slight change of tone that
told his passionate conviction. "I wish you could grasp that in
comparison with you, nothing matters to me."

"Nothing?" she repeated.

"There is nothing," said Rendel, looking at her, "that I would not
sacrifice to you--my career, my ambitions, anything you asked for."

"I am glad," she said, "that you like me so much, but I don't want you
to make sacrifices," and she spoke in all unconsciousness of the number
of small sacrifices, of an unheroic aspect perhaps, that Rendel was
daily called upon to make for her sake.

At this moment Thacker came in with the morning papers, which he laid on
the table at Rendel's elbow.

"Now then you are happy," said Rachel lightly. "Now you can bury
yourself in the papers and not listen to anything I say."

"I wonder if there is anything about Stoke Newton and old Crawley's
resignation," said Rendel, quite prepared to follow her advice. "I don't
suppose he takes a very jovial view of life just now, poor old boy. Oh,
how I should hate to be on the shelf!"

"I don't think you are likely to be, for the present," said Rachel.

And then Rendel, pushing his chair a little away from the table, opened
the papers wide, and began scanning them one after another, with the
mild and pleasurable excitement of the man who feels confidently abreast
of circumstances. Then, as he took up the _Arbiter_, his eye suddenly
fell upon a heading that took h