that Bill was the one object of his political career. Then,
you know, there was the luncheon to-day--and I fancied that he was a
little flippant about the labour vote. It was perhaps only his way of
speaking."

Mr. Bullsom smiled and rubbed the carriage window with the cuff of his
coat. He was very hungry.

"Oh, well, a politician has to trim a little, you know," he remarked.
"Votes he must have, and Henslow has a very good idea how to get them.
Here we are, thank goodness." The carriage had turned up a short drive,
and deposited them before the door of a highly ornate villa. Mr.
Bullsom led the way indoors, and himself took charge of his guest's coat
and hat. Then he opened the door of the drawing-room.

"Mrs. Bullsom and the girls," he remarked, urbanely, "will be delighted
to see you. Come in!"

CHAPTER II

THE BULLSOM FAMILY AT HOME

There were fans upon the wall, and much bric-a-brac of Oriental shape
but Brummagem finish, a complete suite of drawing-room furniture,
incandescent lights of fierce brilliancy, and a pianola. Mrs. Peter
Bullsom, stout and shiny in black silk and a chatelaine, was dozing
peacefully in a chair, with the latest novel from the circulating
library in her lap; whilst her two daughters, in evening blouses, which
were somehow suggestive of the odd elevenpence, were engrossed in more
serious occupation. Louise, the elder, whose budding resemblance to her
mother was already a protection against the over-amorous youths of the
town, was reading a political speech in the Times. Selina, who had
sandy hair, a slight figure, and was considered by her family the
essence of refinement, was struggling with a volume of Cowper, who had
been recommended to her by a librarian with a sense of humour, as a poet
unlikely to bring a blush into her virginal cheeks. Mr. Bullsom
looked in upon his domestic circle with pardonable pride, and with a
little flourish introduced his guest.

"Mrs. Bullsom," he said, "this is my young friend, Kingston Brooks. My
two daughters, sir, Louise and Selina." The ladies were gracious, but
had the air of being taken by surprise, which, considering Mr.
Bullsom's parting words a few hours ago, seemed strange.

"We've had a great meeting," Mr. Bullsom remarked, sidling towards the
hearthrug, and with his thumbs already stealing towards the armholes of
his waistcoat, "a great meeting, my dears. Not that I am surprised!
Oh, no! As I said to Padgett, when he insisted that I