“William, how late you are!” said Lady Tranmore, as she flew into his arms.

“Well, mother, are you pleased?”

Her son held her at arm’s-length, smiling kindly upon her.

“Of course I am,” said Lady Tranmore.  “And you—­are you horribly tired?”

“Not a bit.  Ah, Mary!—­how do you do?”

Miss Lyster had risen, and the cousins shook hands.

“But I don’t deny it’s very jolly to come back—­out of all that beastly scrimmage,” said the new member, as he threw himself into an arm-chair by the fire with his hands behind his head, while Lady Tranmore prepared him a cup of tea.

“I expect you’ve enjoyed it,” said Miss Lyster, also moving towards the fire.

“Well, when you’re in it there’s a certain excitement in wondering how you’re going to come out of it!  But one might say that, of course, of the infernal regions.”

“Not quite,” said Mary Lyster, smiling demurely.

“Polly! you are a Tory.  Everybody else’s hell has moved—­but yours!  Thank you, mother,” as Lady Tranmore gave him tea.  Then, stretching out his great frame in lazy satisfaction, he turned his brown eyes from one lady to the other.  “I say, mother, I haven’t seen anything as good-looking as you—­or Polly there, if she’ll forgive me—­for weeks.”

“Hold your tongue, goose,” said his mother, as she replenished the teapot.  “What—­there were no pretty girls—­not one?”

“Well, they didn’t come my way,” said William, contentedly munching at bread-and-butter.  “I have gone through all the usual humbug—­and perjured my soul in all the usual ways—­without any consolation worth speaking of.”

“Don’t talk nonsense, sir,” said Lady Tranmore.  “You know you like speaking—­and you like compliments—­and you’ve had plenty of both.”

“You didn’t read me, mother!”

“Didn’t I?” she said, smiling.  He groaned, and took another piece of tea-cake.

“My own family at least, don’t you think, might omit that?”

“H’m, sir—­So you didn’t believe a word of your own speeches?” said Lady Tranmore, as she stood behind him and smoothed his hair back from his forehead.

“Well, who does?” He looked up gayly and kissed the tips of her fingers.

“And it’s in that spirit you’re going back into the House?” Mary Lyster threw him the question—­with a slight pinching of the lips—­as she resumed her work.

“Spirit?  What do you mean, Polly?  One plays the game, of course—­and it has its moments—­its hot corners, so to speak—­or I suppose no one would play it!”

“And the goal?” She lifted a gently disapproving face, in a movement which showed anew the large comeliness of head and neck.

“Why—­to keep the other fellows out, of course!” He lifted an arm and drew his mother down to sit on the edge of his chair.

“William, you’re not to talk like that,” said Lady Tranmore, decidedly, laying her cheek, however, against His hand the while.  “It was all very well when you were quite a free-lance—­but now—­Oh! never mind Mary—­she’s discreet—­and she knows all about it.”