n't you?"

"Did you put all that nonsense in the New York Flare?" asked Mr. Crewe.

"Oh, Humphrey, I hope you liked it," cried Mrs. Pomfret. "Don't make
the mistake of despising what women can do. They elected the Honourable
Billy Aylestone--he said so himself. I'm getting all the women
interested."

"Who've you been calling on now?" he inquired.

Mrs. Pomfret hesitated.

"I've been up at Fairview to see about Mrs. Flint. She isn't much
better."

"Is Victoria home?" Mr. Crewe demanded, with undisguised interest.

"Poor dear girl!" said Mrs. Pomfret, "of course I wouldn't have
mentioned the subject to her, but she wanted to know all about it. It
naturally makes an awkward situation between you and her, doesn't it?"

"Oh, Victoria's level-headed enough," Mr. Crewe had answered; "I guess
she knows something about old Flint and his methods by this time. At any
rate, it won't make any difference with me," he added magnanimously, and
threw in his clutch. He had encircled Fairview in his drive that day,
and was, curiously enough, headed in that direction now. Slow to make
up his mind in some things, as every eligible man must be, he was
now coming rapidly to the notion that he might eventually decide upon
Victoria as the most fitting mate for one in his position. Still, there
was no hurry. As for going to Fairview House, that might be awkward,
besides being open to misconstruction by his constituents. Mr. Crewe
reflected, as he rushed up the hills, that he had missed Victoria since
she had been abroad--and a man so continually occupied as he did not
have time to miss many people. Mr. Crewe made up his mind he would
encircle Fairview every day until he ran across her.

The goddess of fortune sometimes blesses the persistent even before they
begin to persist--perhaps from sheer weariness at the remembrance of
previous importuning. Victoria, on a brand-new and somewhat sensitive
five-year-old, was coming out of the stone archway when Mr. Crewe
(without any signal this time!) threw on his brakes. An exhibition of
horsemanship followed, on Victoria's part, which Mr. Crewe beheld with
admiration. The five-year-old swung about like a weathercock in a gust
of wind, assuming an upright position, like the unicorn in the British
coat of arms. Victoria cut him, and he came down on all fours and danced
into the wire fence that encircled the Fairview domain, whereupon he got
another stinging reminder that there was some one on his