'I say it deliberately. If you get in at all, it won't be through any action on your own part. I would almost rather fight the election for you in your absence. Why, man, you have no more notion of conciliating any body than an arctic bear has. Don't you know you are asking a great favor when you ask people to return you to Parliament ? You don't suppose you can cheek every constituency as you cheeked those poor wretches at Ballinascroon?'

'My dear philosopher and friend,' said the culprit, 'I am not aware of ever having addressed a word to any elector of Englebury, barring your Mr. Chorley.'

'I don't mean here or now,' said Bolitho, who thought he would read this young man a sound lesson when he was about it. 'I mean always and everywhere. A man can not get on in politics who blurts out his opinions as you do yours. You can't convince a man by calling him a fool. You have been spoiled. You got your first seat too easily, and you found yourself independent of the people who elected you. If you had had to conciliate your constituency as some men have, it would have been useful practice for you. I tell you a member of Parliament can not afford to be continually declaring his opinions, as if he had all the wisdom in the world

Here the culprit, far from being meek and attentive, burst out laughing.

The fact is, Bolitho, all this harangue means that you want me to be civil to Chorley. Doesn't it, now?'

Mr. Bolitho, being in a pleasant humor, suffered a shrewd, bland smile to appear about the corners of his mouth.

'Well,' said Balfour, frankly, I mean to be enormously civil to old Chorley-so long as he doesn't show up with some humbug. But mind you, if that old thief, who wants to sell the borough in order to get a good price for his filched common, begins to do the high virtuous business, then the case becomes altered? Civil ? Oh yes, I shall be civil enough. But you don't expect me to black his boots?'

'You see,' said Mr. Bolitho, slowly, 'you are in rather an awkward position with regard to these two people-I will tell you that

honestly. You have had no communication with them since you first saw them in Germany?'

'No, none.'

Well, you know, my gay young friend, you pretty nearly put your foot in it by your chaffing old Chorley about selling the piece of green. Then no sooner had they got over that than Lady Sylvia-You know what I mean.'

Balfour looked a bit annoyed.

'Leave Lady Sylvia out of it,' said he. 'She does not want to interfere in these things at all.'

'No,' said Mr. Bolitho, cautiously; 'but you see there is the effect of that—that remark of hers to be removed. The Chorleys may have forgotten; they will make allowances

'They can do as they like about that,' said Balfour, bluntly; but Lady Sylvia won't trouble them again. Now as to the bit of common?'

'Well, if I were you, I would say nothing about it at present.

'I don't mean to, nor in the future either.' 'You don't intend to make him offer?'

'Of course not.'

an

Mr. Bolitho looked at the young man. Had he been merely joking when he seemed to entertain seriously the project of bribing Mr. Chorley by purchasing his land from him? Or had some new and alien influence thwarted his original purpose? Mr. Bolitho instantly thought of Lady Sylvia.

'Perhaps you are right,' said he, after a second or two. 'Chorley would be shy of taking an offer, after you had directly described the thing as bribing the town. But all the more you should be conciliatory to him and his wife. Why should they fight for you?'

'I don't know.'

'What have you to offer them?'
'Nothing.'

'Then you are asking a great favor, as I said before.'

'Well, you know, Bolitho, Englebury has its duty to perform. You shouldn't make it all a matter of private and personal interchange of interests. Englebury has its place in the empire; it has the proud privilege of singling out a faithful and efficient person to represent it in Parliament; it has its relations with the British Constitution;

and when it finds that it has the opportunity of returning so distinguished a person as myself, why shouldn't it jump at the chance? You have no faith in public virtue, Bolitho. You would buy land, and bribe. Now that is wrong.'

It's all very well for you to joke about it,' said Mr. Bolitho rather gloomily, 'but you'll sing a different tune if you find yourself without a seat after the next general election.'

But Balfour was not a timid man, and he disliked beating about the bush.

'Well, Mr. Chorley,' said he, 'how are your local politics? Government very unpopular? Or rather I should ask—as interesting me more nearly-is old Harnden still unpopular?'

'Mr. 'Arnden is not very popular at present,' said Mr. Chorley, with some caution. He does his duty well in Parliament, no doubt; but after all, there are

to represent, toward Mr. Chorley's house. It was a bright morning after the rain; the sun shining pleasantly on the quaint old town, with its huddled red-and-white houses, its gray church, its high-arched bridge that spanned a turbidly yellow river. Mr. Chorley's house stood near the top of the hilla plain, square, red brick building, surrounded by plenty of laurels and other evergreens, and these again inclosed by a high brick wall. They were ushered into a small drawing-room, stuffed full of ornaments and smelling of musk. In a few moments Mr. and Mrs. Chorley entered together.

Surely nothing could be more friendly than the way in which they greeted the young man. The small, horsy-looking solicitor was prim and precise in his manner, it is true; but then he was always so. As for Mrs. Chorley, she regarded him with a pleasant look from over her silver spectacles, and begged him and Mr. Bolitho to be seated, and hoped they had an agreeable drive on that bright morning. And when Mr. Bolitho explained that they had arrived on the previous evening, and put up at the Green Man,' she was good enough to express her regret that they had not come right on and accepted the hospitality of herself and her husband for the night.

'But perhaps,' said she suddenly, and with an equally sudden change in her manner'perhaps Lady Sylvia is with you?

'Oh dear no!' said Balfour, and he instantly changed the subject by beginning to talk about his experience down in Somersetshire, and how he had heard by accident that Mr. Bolitho was in the neighborhood of Englebury, and how he had managed to pick him up. That alarming look of formality disappeared from Mrs. Chorley's face. Mr. Chorley suggested some sherry, which was politely declined. Then they had a talk about the weather.

to one's constituents-'

'Exactly,' said Balfour. I have discovered that in the case of the place I represent. The courtesies that pass between me and the people of Ballinascroon are almost too beautiful. Well, what about the chance of a vacancy at the next general election ? '

In reply to this blunt question Mr. Chorley regarded the young man with his shrewd, watchful, small blue eyes, and said, slowly.

'I don't know, Sir, that Mr. 'Arnden has any intention at present of resigning his seat.'

This guardedness was all thrown away on Balfour.

What would be my chances,' said he, curtly, if I came down and contested the seat ?'

Here Mrs. Chorley broke in. From the moment they had begun to speak of the next election, the expression of her face had changed. The thin lips were drawn more firmly together. Instead of the beaming maternal glance over her spectacles, there was a proud and cold look, that was at once awful and ominous.

'If I may be allowed to speak, Mr. Balfour,' said she, in lofty accents, 'I would say that it is rather strange that you should mention any such proposal to us. When you last spoke of it, you will remember that some remarks were applied to us by Lady Sylvia, which were never apologized for by her, at least. Have you any explanation to make?'

There was a sudden flash of fire in the deep-set gray eyes. Apologize for his wife to such people as these?

'Explanation ?' said he ; and the tone in which he spoke caused the heart of Mr. Bolitho to sink within him. 'If Lady Sylvia spoke hastily, that only convinced

gerous and disreputable person, who is likely to lead you into bad ways-bribery and corruption, and all that. I am quite sure from her manner to me at Mainz that she considered me to be the author of an abominable conspiracy to betray the people of Englebury.'

'Yes, I think she did,' Balfour said, with a laugh, and I think she was right. You were the author of it, no doubt, Bolitho. But then it was all a joke; we were all in it, to the extent of talking about it. What I wish to impress on your young mind is that women don't understand jokes of that sort, and—and it would have been wiser to have said nothing about it before Lady Sylvia. In fact,' he added, with more firmness, I don't wish my wife to be mixed up in any electioneering squabble.'

'Quite right, quite right,' responded Mr. Bolitho, with grave suavity; but he knew very well why Mr. Hugh Balfour had never asked him to dine at The Lilacs.

'Now,' said Balfour, when they had reached the station and got their tickets, 'we shall be in London between six and seven. What do you say to dining with me? I shall be a bachelor for a few evenings, before going down to the country.'

Mr. Bolitho was nothing loath. A club dinner would be grateful after his recent experience of rural inns.

At the Oxford and Cambridge, or the Reform? Which shall it be?' asked the young man, carelessly.

But Mr. Bolitho regarded it as a serious matter. He was intimately acquainted with the cooking at both houses-in fact, with the cooking at pretty nearly every club in the parish of St. James's. After some delay, he chose the Reform; and he was greatly relieved when he saw his companion go off to telegraph to the steward of the club to put down his guest's name in the books. That showed forethought. He rather dreaded Mr. Balfour's well-known indifference about such matters. But if he was telegraphing to the steward, surely there was nothing to fear.

And when at length they reached Lon don, and had driven straight on to the club, the poor man had amply earned his dinner. He had been cross-examined about this person and that person, had been driven into declaring his opinion on this question and that, had been alternately laughed at

and lectured, until he thought the railway journey was never going to end. And now as they sat down at the small white table Mr. Balfour was in a more serious mood, and was talking about the agricultural labourer. A paper had just been read at the Farmers' Club which would doubtless be very valuable as giving the employers' side of the question; did Mr. Bolitho know where a full report of that address could be got?

Mr. Bolitho was mutely staring at the framed bill of fare that the waiter had brought to the table. Was it possible, then, that Balfour had ordered no dinner at all? Was he merely going to ask-in flagrant violation of the rules of the club-for some haphazard thing to take the place of a properly prepared dinner?

Will you have some soup? Do you ever take soup?' asked his host, absently; and his heart sank within him.

'Yes, I will take some soup,' said he, gloomily.

They had the soup; Mr. Balfour was again plunged in the question of agricultural labour. He did not notice that the waiter was calmly standing over them.

'Oh,' said he, suddenly recalling himself 'fish? Do you ever take fish, Bolitho?' 'Well, yes, I will take some fish,' said Mr. Bolitho, somewhat petulantly at this rate of waiting they would finish their dinner about two in the morning.

'Bring some fish, waiter any fishsalmon,' said he, at a venture; for he was searching in a handful of papers for a letter he wished to show his guest. When he was informed that there was no salmon, he asked for any fish that was ready, or any joint that was ready; and then he succeeded in finding the letter.

They had some fish too. He was talking now about the recently formed association of the employers of labor. He absently poured out a glass of water and drank some of it. Mr. Bolitho's temper was rising.

'My dear fellow,' Balfour said, suddenly observing that his guest's plate was empty, 'I beg your pardon. You'll have some joint now, won't you? They always have capital joints here; and it saves so much | time to be able to come in at a moment's notice and have a cut. I generally make that my dinner, Waiter, bring some beef, or mutton, or whatever there is. And you

were saying, Bolitho, that this association might turn out a big thing?'

Mr. Bolitho was now in a pretty thoroughgoing rage. He had not had a drop of any thing now-not even water. He would sooner parch with thirst. But if ever, he vowed to himself-if ever again he was so far left to himself as to accept an invitation to dine with this thick-headed and gloweringeyed Scotchman, then he would allow them to put strychnine in every dish.

If Mr Bolitho had not got angry over the wretched dinner he was asked to eat, he would frankly have reminded his host that he wanted something to drink. But his temper once being up, he had grown exceedingly bitter about the absence of wine. He had become proud. He longed for a glass of the water before him, but he would not take it. He would wait for the satisfaction of seeing his enemy overcome with shame when his monstrous neglect was revealed to him. Temper, however is a bad substitute for wine when a man is thirsty. Moreover, to all appearance, this crass idiot was likely to finish his dinner and go away without any suspicion that he had grievously broken the laws of common decency and hospitality. He took a little sip of water now and again as innocently as a dipping swallow. And at length Mr. Bolitho could bear it no longer. Thirst and rage combined were choking him.

'Don't you think, Balfour,' said he, with an outward calm that revealed nothing of the wild volcano within- don't you think one might have a glass of wine of some sort?' Balfour, with a stare of surprise, glanced round the table. There certainly was no wine there.

'My dear fellow,' said he, with the most obvious and heartfelt compunction, I really beg your pardon. What wine do you drink? Will you have a glass of sherry?'

Bolitho was on the point of returning to his determination of drinking nothing at all; but the consuming thirst within was too strong for him. He was about to accept this offer sulkily, when the member for Ballinascroon seemed to recollect that he was entertaining a guest.

'Oh no,' he said, anxiously; of course you will have some Champagne. Waiter, bring the wine list. There you are, Bolitho; pick out what you want, like a good fellow. It was really very forgetful of me.'

By this time they had got to the celery and cheese. Mr. Bolitho had scarcely had any dinner; his thirst had prevented his eating, and his anger had driven him into a most earnest and polite attention to his companion's conversation. But when the Champagne arrived, and he had drunk the first glass at a draught, nature revived within him. The strained and glassy look left his eyes; his natural bland expression began to appear. He attacked the cheese and celery with vigor. The wine was sound and dry, and Mr. Bolitho had some good leeway to make up. He began to look on Balfour as not so bad a sort of fellow, after all; it was only his tremendous earnestness that made him forgetful of the smaller things around him.

'And so,' said he, with a dawning smile breaking over his face, you mean to go, unaided and alone, and fight the whole faction of your enemies in Englebury-the Chorleys, old Harnden, Reginald Key, and the hunting parson-all together?'

'Well,' said Mr. Balfour, cheerfully, 'I sha'n't try it if I can see an easier chance elsewhere. But I am not afraid. Don't you see how I should appeal to the native dignity of the electors to rise and assert itself against the political slavery that has been imposed on the borough? Bolitho, Englebury shall be free. Englebury shall suffer no longer the dictation of an interested solicitor.'

'That's all very well,' said Mr. Bolitho; 'but Chorley owns half the Englebury Mercury?

'I will start the Englebury Banner?' 'And suppose Harnden should resign in favor of Key?'

'My dear friend, I have heard on very good authority that there is not the least chance of Key being in England at that time. The government are sure to try the effect of some other malarious place. I have heard several consulships and island. governorships suggested; but you are quite right he is a hard man to kill; and I believe their only hesitation so far has been owing to the fact that there was no sufficiently deadly place open. But they will be even with him sooner or later. Then as for your hunting parson-I could make friends with him in ten minutes. I never saw a hunting parson; but I have a sneaking liking for him. I can imagine him—a