of quotation. "At any rate, we're going to
look after him. He is a good chap and I've got to see him through."

For Mr. Winterham, who was very much like other men, whose language was
free, and who respected few things indeed in the world, had unfailing
tenderness for two beings-his sister and his friend.

The two young men rose, yawned, and strolled out into the hall. They
scanned carelessly the telegram boards. Arthur pointed a finger to a
message typed in a corner.

"That will make a good deal of difference to Wratislaw."

George read: "The death is announced, at his residence in Hampshire, of
Earl Beauregard. His lordship had reached the age of eighty-five, and
had been long in weak health. He is succeeded by his son the Right Hon.
Lord Malham, the present Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs."

"It means that if Wratislaw's party get back with a majority after
August, and if Wratislaw gets the under-secretaryship as most people
expect, then, with his chief in the Lords, he will be rather an
important figure in the Commons."

"And I suppose his work will be pretty lively," said George. He had
been reading some of the other telegrams, which were, as a rule,
hysterical messages by way of foreign capitals, telling of Russian
preparations in the East.

"Oh, lively, yes. But I've confidence in Tommy. I wish the Fate which
decides men's politics had sent him to our side. He knows more about
the thing than any one else, and he knows his own mind, which is rare
enough. But it's too hot for serious talk. I suppose my seat is safe
enough in August, but I don't relish the prospect of a three weeks'
fight. Wratislaw, lucky man, will not be opposed. I suppose he'll come
up and help Lewis to make hay of Stock's chances. It's a confounded
shame. I shall go and talk for him."

On the steps of the club both men halted, and looked up and down the
sultry white street. The bills of the evening papers were plastered in
a row on the pavement, and the glaring pink and green still further
increased the dazzle. After the cool darkness within each shaded his
eyes and blinked.

"This settles it," said George. "I shall wire to Lewie to-night."

"And I," said the other; "and to-morrow evening we'll be in that cool
green Paradise of a glen. Think of it! Meantime I shall grill through
another evening in the House, and pair."

CHAPTER VI

PASTORAL

I

A July morning had dawned over the Dreichill, and the glen was filled
wi