le
vacancy, or at a general election, he will, with utter certainty, have
his chance as a candidate with the whole force of his party behind him.
It is part of the business of Chief Whips to find candidates.

"Of course," said Paul, rather stupidly. "Eventually. One of these
days."

"But soon?"

"Soon?"

Paul's head reeled. What did he mean by soon? "Well," Lord Francis
laughed, "not to-morrow. But pretty soon. Look here, Savelli. I'm going
to speak frankly. The party's in for a long period out of office.
That's obvious. Look at the majority against us. We want the young
blood--not the old hacks--so that when we come in again we shall have a
band of trained men in the heyday of their powers. Of course I
know--it's my business to know--what generally you have done for the
Young England League, but I missed your speech at Flickney Heath in the
autumn. You had an immense success, hadn't you?"

"They seemed pleased with what I had to say," replied Paul modestly.
"When did you hear about it?"

"Last night."

"The Winwoods are the dearest people in the world," said Paul, walking
warily, "but they are prejudiced in my favour."

"It wasn't the Winwoods."

The beautiful truth flashed upon Paul.

"Then it was the Princess Zobraska."

The other laughed. "Never mind. I know all about it. It isn't often one
has to listen to speeches at second-hand. The question is: Would you
care to stand when the time comes?"

"I should just think I would," cried Paul boyishly.

All his jealous resentment had given place to exultation. It was the
Princess who had told Frank Ayres. If she had been laying him under the
spell of her seduction it was on his, Paul's, account. She had had the
splendid audacity to recite his speech to the Chief Whip. Frank Ayres
was suddenly transformed from a popinjay into an admirable fellow. The
Princess herself sat enthroned more adorable than ever.

"The only difficulty," said Paul, "is that I have to earn my living."

"That might be arranged," said Lord Francis.

So Paul, as soon as he found an opportunity, danced over to Chetwood
Park and told his Princess all about it, and called her a tutelary
goddess and an angel and all manner of pretty names. And the Princess,
who was alone, poured for him her priceless Russian tea into egg-shell
China tea-cups and fed him on English crumpets, and, in her French and
feminine way, gave him the outer fringe of her heart to play with--a
very dangerous game.