Suddenly, after an invocation that would have been passionate had it not been so restrained and strong, he stopped.  She opened her eyes and looked.  Geoffrey was seated as before, with his hat on.  He had been speaking for an hour and a half, and yet, to her, it seemed but a few minutes since he rose.  Then broke out a volley of cheers, in the midst of which a leader of the Opposition rose to reply, not in the very best of tempers, for Geoffrey’s speech had hit them hard.

He began, however, by complimenting the honourable member on his speech, “as fine a speech as he had listened to for many years, though, unfortunately, made from a mistaken standpoint and the wrong side of the House.”  Then he twitted the Government with not having secured the services of a man so infinitely abler than the majority of their “items,” and excited a good deal of amusement by stating, with some sarcastic humour, that, should it ever be his lot to occupy the front Treasury bench, he should certainly make a certain proposal to the honourable member.  After this good-natured badinage, he drifted off into the consideration of the question under discussion, and Beatrice paid no further attention to him, but occupied herself in watching Geoffrey drop back into the same apparent state of cold indifference, from which the necessity of action had aroused him.

Presently the gentleman who had found her the seat came up and spoke to her, asking her how she was getting on.  Very soon he began to speak of Geoffrey’s speech, saying that it was one of the most brilliant of the session, if not the most brilliant.

“Then Mr. Bingham is a rising man, I suppose?” Beatrice said.

“Rising?  I should think so,” he answered.  “They will get him into the Government on the first opportunity after this; he’s too good to neglect.  Very few men can come to the fore like Mr. Bingham.  We call him the comet, and if only he does not make a mess of his chances by doing something foolish, there is no reason why he should not be Attorney-General in a few years.”

“Why should he do anything foolish?” she asked.

“Oh, for no reason on earth, that I know of; only, as I daresay you have noticed, men of this sort are very apt to do ridiculous things, throw up their career, get into a public scandal, run away with somebody or something.  Not that there should be any fear of such a thing where Mr. Bingham is concerned, for he has a charming wife, and they say that she is a great help to him.  Why, there is the division bell.  Good-bye, Mrs. Everston, I will come back to see you out.”

“Good-bye,” Beatrice answered, “and in case I should miss you, I wish to say something—­to thank you for your kindness in helping me to get in here to-night.  You have done me a great service, a very great service, and I am most grateful to you.”

“It is nothing—­nothing,” he answered.  “It has been a pleasure to help you.  If,” he added with some confusion, “you would allow me to call some day, the pleasure will be all the greater.  I will bring Mr. Bingham with me, if you would like to know him—­that is, if I can.”