weight with Miss Bride as with
Mrs. Toplady.

"She knows political people?" he asked.

"She knows everybody--or can know. I confess I don't understand why. In
any case, it'll be well for yon to have her good word. Lady Ogram can
do a good deal, here, but I'm not sure that she could make your
acceptance by the Liberals a certain thing."

"Of course I have thought of that," said Dyce. Then, fearing he had
spoken in too off-hand a way, he added graciously, "I needn't say that
I regard your advice as valuable. I shall often ask for it."

Constance was mute.

"I suppose I may take it for granted that you wish for my success?"

"To be sure. I wish for it because Lady Ogram does."

Dyce felt inclined to object to this, but Constance's face did not
invite to further talk on the point.

"At all events," he continued, "it seems no other candidate has been
spoken of. The party isn't sanguine; they look upon Robb as an
unassailable; _sedet in aeter-numque sedebit_. But we shall see about
it. Presently I should like to talk over practical details with you. I
suppose I call myself Unionist? These questions of day-to-day politics,
how paltry they are! Strange that people can get excited about them. I
shall have to look on it as a game, and amuse myself for certain hours
of the day--a relaxation from thought and work. You haven't told me, by
the bye, what you think of my bio-sociological system."

"I've been considering it. How was it suggested to you?"

Constance asked the question so directly, and with so keen a look, that
she all but disconcerted the philosopher.

"Oh, it grew out of my reading and observation grew bit by bit--no
armed Pallas leaping to sudden life--"

"You have worked it out pretty thoroughly."

"In outline, yes."

Dyce read the newspapers, and walked a little in the garden. Punctually
at eleven, Lady Ogram descended. The carriage was at the door.

This stately drive, alone with the autocrat of Rivenoak, animated the
young man. He felt that the days of his insignificance were over, that
his career--the career so often talked about--had really begun. A
delightful surprise gave piquancy to his sensations; had he cared to
tell himself the truth, he would have known that, whatever his
self-esteem, he had never quite believed in the brilliant future of
which he liked to dream. It is one thing to merit advancement, quite
another to secure it. Yet here he was, driving with a great lady, his
friend, his