“She has, I dare say, thirty thousand,” William Glazzard was saying, with an air of indifference.  “I suppose she’ll marry some parson.  Let us hope it’s one of the fifty-pound curates.”

“Deep in the old slough?”

“Hopelessly—­or Ivy wouldn’t be so thick with her.”

When he had spoken, William turned with an expressive smile.

“Still, who knows?  I rather like the girl.  She has no humbug about her—­no pretence, that’s to say.  You see how she dresses.”

“A bad sign, I’m afraid.”

“Well, no, not in this case, I think.  Her home accounts for it.  That old ass, Mumbray, and his wife make things pretty sour for her, as the Germans say; at least, I guess so.”

“I don’t dislike her appearance—­intelligent at bottom, I should imagine.”

There followed a long silence.  Eustace broke it by asking softly: 

“And how do things go with you?”

“The same as ever.  Steadily down-hill I had better let the place before it gets into a thoroughly bad state.  And you?”

His brother made no answer, but sat with bent head.

“You remember Stark,” he said at length, “the lawyer?  He wants me to stand for Polterham at the next election.”

“You?  In place of Welwyn-Baker?”

“No; as Liberal candidate; or Radical, if you like.”

“You’re joking, I suppose!”

“Where’s the impossibility?”

Their eyes met.

“There’s no absurdity,” said William, “in your standing for Parliament; au contraire.  But I can’t imagine you on the Radical side.  And I don’t see the necessity of that.  Welwyn-Baker is breaking up; they won’t let him come forward again, even if he wishes.  His son is disliked, and would have a very poor chance.  If you cared to put yourself in touch with Mumbray and the rest of them —­by love!  I believe they would welcome you.  I don’t know of any one but the Welwyn-Bakers at all likely to stand.”

“But,” objected his brother, “what’s the use of my standing for a party that is pretty sure to be beaten?”

“You think that’s the case?”

Eustace repeated Mr. Stark’s opinions, and what he had heard from Quarrier.  It seemed to cost William an effort to fix his mind on the question; but at length he admitted that the contest would probably be a very close cue, even granting that the Conservatives secured a good candidate.

“That’s as much as to say,” observed his brother, “that the Liberals stand to win, as things are.  Now, there seems to be no doubt that Liversedge would gladly withdraw in favour of a better man.  What I want you to do is to set this thing in train for me.  I am in earnest.”

“You astonish me!  I can’t reconcile such an ambition with”——­