And then it came out that he had just—­that moment!—­engaged himself to Lady Selina.  And it was the very same day that he got into that precious mess in the House—­the very same night!  I suppose he went to her to be comforted, and thought he’d pull something off, anyway!  Why she took him!  But of course she’s no chicken, and old Alresford may die any day.  And about the bribery business—­I suppose he made her think him an injured innocent.  Anyway, he talked to Willie, when they got to his rooms, like a raving lunatic, and you know he was always such a cool hand.  ‘Ffolliot,’ he said, ’can you come with me to Siam next week?’ ‘How much?’ said Will.  ’I thought you were engaged to Lady Selina.’  Then he swore little oaths, and vowed he had told her he must have a year.  ’We’ll go and explore those temples in Siam,’ he said, and then he muttered something about ’Why should I ever come back?’ Presently he began to talk of the strike—­and the paper—­and the bribe, and all the rest of it, making out a long rigmarole story.  Oh! of course he’d done everything for the best—­trust him!—­and everybody else was a cur and a slanderer.  And Ffolliot declared he felt quite pulpy—­the man was such a wreck; and he said he’d go with him to Siam, or anywhere else, if he’d only cheer up.  And they got out the maps, and Harry began to quiet down, and at last Will got him to bed.  Fanny says Ffolliot reports he had great difficulty in dragging him home.  However, Lady Selina has no luck!—­there he is.”

“Oh! he will be one of the shining lights of our side before long,” said Aldous, with resignation.  “Since he gave up his seat here, there has been some talk of finding him one in the Alresfords’ neighbourhood, I believe.  But I don’t suppose anybody’s very anxious for him.  He is to address a meeting, I see, on the Tory Labour Programme next week.  The Clarion, I suppose, will go round with him.”

“Beastly rag!” said Frank, fervently.  “It’s rather a queer thing, isn’t it, that such a clever chap as that should have made such a mess of his chances.  It almost makes one not mind being a fool.”

He laughed, but bitterly, and at the same moment the cloud that for some twenty minutes or so seemed to have completely rolled away descended again on eye and expression.

“Well, there are worse things than being a fool,” said Aldous, with insidious emphasis—­“sulking, and shutting up with your best friends, for instance.”

Frank flushed deeply, and turned upon him with a sort of uncertain fury.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Whereupon Aldous slipped his arm inside the boy’s, and prepared himself with resignation for the scene that had to be got through somehow, when Frank suddenly exclaimed: 

“I say, there’s Miss Boyce!”

Never was a man more quickly and completely recalled from altruism to his own affairs.  Aldous dropped his companion’s arm, straightened himself with a thrill of the whole being, and saw Marcella some distance ahead of them in the Mellor drive, which they had just entered.  She was stooping over something on the ground, and was not apparently aware of their approach.  A ray of cold sun came out at the moment, touched the bending figure and the grass at her feet—­grass starred with primroses, which she was gathering.