Members of
Parliament a source of unmixed joy to all of them; hard-headed men, very
likely, good each in his own department; beyond that, nothing.

He returned presently to his study, where Aaron was already at work,
typing letters.

"So that is your committee of Labour Members," Maraton remarked,
throwing himself into an easy chair.

Aaron looked up.

"They are all sound men," he declared. "Peter Dale, too, is a fine
speaker."

Maraton sighed.

"Yet it isn't from them," he said quietly, "that I can take a mandate.
I must go to the people. I couldn't even talk to them to-day. I
couldn't take them into my confidence. I couldn't show them the things
I have seen perhaps only in my dreams. I don't suppose they would have
listened. . . . How many more letters, Aaron?"

"Thirty-seven, sir."

Maraton rose to his feet.

"I shall walk for an hour or so," he announced. "Get them ready for me
to sign when I come in. Have you a home, young man?"

"None, sir," Aaron admitted.

"Excellent!" Maraton declared cheerfully. "These people with homes lose
sight of the real thing. What do you think of your Labour Members,
honestly, Aaron? Ah, I can see that they have been little gods to you!
Little tin gods, I am afraid, Aaron. Do they know what it is to go
hungry, I wonder? Not often! . . . Get on with your letters. I am
going out."

Maraton walked to the Park and sat down underneath the trees. There
were a fair number of people about, notwithstanding the hot weather, and
very soon he recognised Lady Elisabeth. She was walking back and forth
along one of the side-walks, with a little, fussy woman, golden-haired,
and wearing a gown of the brightest blue. Maraton watched them, at
first idly and then with interest. Lady Elisabeth, in her cool muslin
gown and simple hat, seemed to be moving in a world of her own, into
which her companion's chatter but rarely penetrated. She walked with a
slow and delicate grace, not without a characteristic touch of languor.
Once or twice she looked around her--one might almost have imagined that
she was seeking escape from her companion--and on one of these occasions
her eyes met Maraton's. She stopped short. They were within a few feet
of one another, and Maraton rose to his feet. She lowered her parasol
and held out her hand.

"Only a very short time ago," she told him, "I was wondering what you
were doing. You know that my uncle is expecting to see or hear from you
this afternoon?"

"I