“Angus, fills, was fetched home in a car by a gang of his roguish young playmates.  They stopped down on the stately drive under my window and a quartet sung a pathetic song that run: 

    “Don’t forget your parents,
    Think all they done for you!

“Then young Angus ascended the marble steps to the top one, bared his agreeable head to the moonlight, and made them a nice speech.  He said the campaign now in progress, fellow-citizens, marked the gravest crisis in the affairs of our grand old state that an intelligent constituency had ever been called upon to vote down, but that he felt they were on the eve of a sweeping victory that would sweep the corrupt hell-hounds of a venal opposition into an ignominy from which they would never be swept by any base act of his while they honoured him with their suffrages, because his life was an open book and he challenged any son-of-a-gun within sound of his voice to challenge this to his face or take the consequences of being swept into oblivion by the high tide of a people’s indignation that would sweep everything before it on the third day of November next, having been aroused in its might at last from the debasing sloth into which the corrupt hell-hounds of a venal opposition had swept them, but a brighter day had dawned, which would sweep the onrushing hordes of petty chicanery to where they would get theirs; and, as one who had heard the call of an oppressed people, he would accept this fitting testimonial, not for its intrinsic worth but for the spirit in which it was tendered.  As for the nefarious tariff on watch springs, sawed lumber, and indigo, he would defer his masterly discussion of these burning issues to a more fitting time because a man had to get a little sleep now and then or he wasn’t any good next day.  In the meantime he thanked them one and all, and so, gentlemen, good-night.

“The audience cheered hoarsely and drove off.  I guess the speech would have been longer if a light hadn’t showed in the east wing of the castle where Angus, peer, slept.  And then all was peace and quiet till the storm broke on a rocky coast next day.  It didn’t really break until evening, but suspicious clouds no bigger than a man’s hand might have been observed earlier.  If young Angus took any breakfast that morning it was done in the privacy of his apartment under the pitying glances of a valet or something.  But here he was at lunch, blithe as ever, and full of merry details about the late disaster.  He spoke with much humour about a wider use for tomato catsup than was ever encouraged by the old school of house decorators.  Old Angus listened respectfully, taking only a few bites of food but chewing them long and thoughtfully.  Ellabelle was chiefly interested in the names of the hearty young vandals.  She was delighted to learn that they was all of the right set, and her eyes glowed with pride.  The eyes of Angus, peer, was now glowing with what I could see was something else, though I couldn’t make out just what it was.  He never once exploded like you’d of thought he was due to.