the contrary. There are no poachers--and no murders. The girls
prefer to be married, and the Tranmores give so much away that no one
has the smallest excuse for starvation. Kitty gets nothing out of them
whatever."

"In the way of literary material?"

Mrs. Alcot nodded.

"Last week she was so discouraged that she was inclined to give up
fiction and take to journalism."

"Heavens! Political?"

"Oh, <i>la haute politique</i>, of course."

"H'm. The wives of cabinet ministers have often inspired articles. I
don't remember an instance of their writing them."

"Well, Kitty is inclined to try."

"With Ashe's sanction?"

"Goodness, no! But Kitty, as you are aware"--Mrs. Alcot threw a prudent
glance to right and left--"goes her own way. She believes she can be of
great service to her husband's policy."

Darrell's lip twitched.

"If you were in Ashe's position, would you rather your wife neglected or
supported your political interests?"

Mrs. Alcot shrugged her shoulders.

"Kitty made a considerable mess of them last year."

"No doubt. She forgot they existed. But I think if I were Ashe, I should
be more afraid of her remembering. By-the-way--the glass here seems to
be at 'Set Fair'?"

His interrogative smile was not wholly good-natured. But mere
benevolence was not what the world asked of Philip Darrell--even in the
case of his old friends.

"Astonishing!" said Mrs. Alcot, with lifted brows. "Kitty is immensely
proud of him--and immensely ambitious. That, of course, accounts for
Lord Parham's visit."

"Lord Parham!" cried Darrell, bounding on his seat. "Lord
Parham!--coming here?"

"He arrives to-morrow. On his way from Scotland--to Windsor."

Mrs. Alcot enjoyed the effect of her communication on her companion. He
sat open-mouthed, evidently startled out of all self-command.

"Why, I thought that Lady Kitty--"

"Had vowed vengeance? So, in a sense, she has. It is understood that she
and Lady Parham don't meet, except--"

"On formal occasions, and to take in the groundlings," said Darrell, too
impatient to let her finish her sentence. "Yes, that I gathered. But you
mean that <i>Lord</i> Parham is to be allowed to make his peace?"

Madeleine Alcot lay back and laughed.

"Kitty wishes to try her hand at managing him."

Darrell joined her in mirth. The notion of the white-haired,
bullet-headed, shrewd, and masterful man who at that moment held the
Premiership of England managed by Kitty, or any ot