ez_ more
securely on his nose, "do you make of that, Miss Derosne?"

Sir John thought that he was addressing an indifferent spectator, and
Alicia's manner did not undeceive him.

"How should I know, Sir John? It must have been politics."

"They wouldn't talk politics here--and, if they did, Medland would not
quarrel about them."

"Did you hear what he said, Chief Justice?" asked Coxon.

"Yes, I heard."

"Curious, isn't it?"

"It's most tantalisingly curious," said Sir John.

"But, all the same, we mustn't forget the flowers," remarked Alicia,
with affected gaiety.

They moved on, and the onlookers, still canvassing the incident,
scattered their various ways.

It was Coxon who told Lady Eynesford about it afterwards, and her
comment to the Governor that evening at dinner was,

"There, Willie! Didn't I tell you something horrid would come of having
those people?"

No one answered her. The Governor knew better than to encourage a
discussion. Dick swore softly under his breath at Coxon, and Alicia
began to criticise Lady Perry's costume. Lady Eynesford followed up her
triumph.

"I hope all you Medlandites are satisfied now," she said.

And Lady Eynesford was not the only person who found some satisfaction
in this unfortunate incident, for when Daisy told Norburn about it, he
remarked, with an extraordinary want of reason,

"I knew you'd be sorry you went."

"I'm not at all sorry," protested Daisy. "But why was father angry?"

"I'm sure I don't know. Didn't he tell you?"

"No."

"Oh, I recollect. This Benham has been worrying him about some
appointment."

"That doesn't account for his saying that he had as good a right as
anybody to talk to me. I don't understand it."

"Well, neither do I. But you would go."

"Really, you're too absurd," said Daisy pettishly.

And poor Norburn knew that he was very absurd, and yet could not help
being very absurd, although he despised himself for it.

The real truth was that Daisy had told him that, except for this one
occurrence, she had had a most charming afternoon, and that Dick Derosne
had been kindness itself.

This was enough to make even a rising statesman angry, and, when angry,
absurd.

CHAPTER XI.

A CONSCIENTIOUS MAN'S CONSCIENCE.

A very few hours after its occurrence, the scene at the flower-show was
regretted by all who took part in it. Medland realised the foolishness
of his indiscretion and want of temper; Benham was afraid that