“Oh, you are sure to win!  How can a wretched old Tory like that stand against you?  Go and make friends with everybody.  You only need to be known.  How I should like to hear you make a speech!  Of course I must be there when you do.  How does one get to Hollingford?  What are the trains?”

“If you leave Euston by the newspaper train to-morrow morning,” said Dyce, gravely, “you may be just in time to hear the declaration of the poll.—­Meanwhile,” he added, “suppose we think for a moment of the trifling fact that my income is nothing a year.  How does that affect my chances in a political career, I wonder?”

Mrs. Woolstan’s countenance fell.

“Oh—­but—­it’s impossible for that to stand in your way.  You said yourself that you didn’t seriously trouble about it.  Of course you will get an income—­somehow.  Men who go in for public life always do—­don’t they?”

She spoke timidly, with downcast eyes, a smile hovering about her lips.  Dyce did not look at her.  He had thrust his hands into his trouser pockets, and crossed his legs; he smiled frowningly at the fire.

“Does Lady Ogram know your circumstances?” Iris asked, in a lower voice.

“I can’t be sure.  She may have heard something about them from—­my friend.  Naturally, I didn’t tell her that I was penniless.”

“But—­if she is bent on having you for a candidate don’t you think she will very likely make some suggestion?  A wealthy woman—­”

The voice failed; the speaker had an abashed air.

“We can’t take anything of that kind into account,” said Lashmar, with masculine decision.  “If any such suggestion were made, I should have to consider it very carefully indeed.  As yet I know Lady Ogram very slightly.  We may quarrel, you know; it would be the easiest thing in the world.  My independence is the first consideration.  You mustn’t imagine that I clutch at this opportunity.  Nothing of the kind.  It’s an opening, perhaps; but in any case I should have found one before long.  I don’t even know yet whether Hollingford will suit me.  It’s a very unimportant borough; I may decide that it would be better to look to one of the large, intelligent constituencies.  I’m afraid—­” he became rather severe—­“you are inclined to weigh my claims to recognition by the fact that I happen to have no money—­”

“Oh, Mr. Lashmar!  Oh, don’t!” exclaimed Iris, in a pained voice.  “How can you be so unkind—­so unjust!”

“No, no; I merely want to guard myself against misconception.  The very freedom with which I speak to you might lead you to misjudge me.  If I thought you were ever tempted to regard me as an adventurer—­”

“Mr. Lashmar!” cried Iris, almost tearfully.  “This is dreadful.  How could such a thought enter my mind?  Is that your opinion of me?”

“Pray don’t be absurd,” interposed Dyce, with an impatient gesture.  “I detest this shrillness, as I’ve told you fifty times.”