“Well, I’ll do the best I can to get a date,” Mr. Henslow said, grumblingly, “but you fellows are always in such a hurry, and you don’t understand that it don’t go up here.  We have to wait our time month after month sometimes.”

“I don’t see any motion down in your name at all yet,” Brooks remarked.

“I told you that Sir Henry struck it through.”

“Then I shall call upon him and point out that he is throwing away a Liberal seat at the next election,” Brooks replied.  “He isn’t the sort of man to encourage a Member to break his election pledges.”

“You’ll make a mess of the whole thing if you do anything of the sort,” Henslow declared.  “Look here, come and have a bit of dinner with me, and talk things over a bit more pleasantly, eh?  There’s no use in getting our rags out.”

“Please excuse me,” Brooks said.  “I have arranged to dine elsewhere.  I do not wish to seem dictatorial or unreasonable, but I have just come from Medchester, where the distress is, if anything, worse than ever.  It makes one’s heart sick to walk the streets, and when I look into the people’s faces I seem to always hear that great shout of hope and enthusiasm which your speech in the market-place evoked.  You see, there is only one real hope for these people, and that is legislation, and you are the man directly responsible to them for that.”

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do!” Mr. Henslow said, in a burst of generosity.  “I’ll send another ten guineas to the Unemployed Fund.”

“Take my advice and don’t,” Brooks answered, dryly.  “They might be reminded of the people who clamoured for bread and were offered a stone.  Do your duty here.  Keep your pledges.  Speak in the House with the same passion and the same eloquence as when you sowed hope in the heart of those suffering thousands.  Some one must break away from this musty routine of Party politics.  The people will be heard, Mr. Henslow.  Their voice has dominated the fate of every nation in time, and it will be so with ours.”

Mr. Henslow was silent for a few minutes.  This young man who would not drink champagne, or be hail-fellow-well-met, and who was in such deadly earnest, was a nuisance.

“I tell you what I’ll do,” he said at last.  “I’ll have a few words with Sir Henry, and see you tomorrow at what time you like.”

“Certainly,” Brooks answered, rising.  “If you will allow me to make a suggestion, Mr. Henslow, I would ask you to run through in your memory all your speeches and go through your pledges one by one.  Let Sir Henry understand that your constituents will not be trifled with, for it is not a question of another candidate, it is a question of another party.  You have set the ball rolling, and I can assure you that the next Member whom Medchester sends here, whether it be you or any one else, will come fully pledged to a certain measure of Protection.”

Mr. Henslow nodded.

“Very well,” he said, gloomily.  “Where are you staying?