‘You will bring Captain Beauchamp to me the moment he comes?’

‘I’ll bring him.  Bring him?  Nevil Beauchamp won’t want bringing.’

Mrs. Devereux smiled with some pleasure.

Grancey Lespel, followed at some distance by Mr. Ferbrass, the Tory lawyer, stepped quickly up to Palmet, and asked whether Beauchamp had seen Dollikins, the brewer.

Palmet could recollect the name of one Tomlinson, and also the calling at a brewery.  Moreover, Beauchamp had uttered contempt of the brewer’s business, and of the social rule to accept rich brewers for gentlemen.  The man’s name might be Dollikins and not Tomlinson, and if so, it was Dollikins who would not see Beauchamp.  To preserve his political importance, Palmet said, ‘Dollikins! to be sure, that was the man.’

‘Treats him as he does you,’ Mr. Lespel turned to Ferbrass.  ’I’ve sent to Dollikins to come to me this morning, if he’s not driving into the town.  I’ll have him before Beauchamp sees him.  I’ve asked half-a-dozen of these country gentlemen-tradesmen to lunch at my table to-day.’

‘Then, sir,’ observed Ferbrass, ’if they are men to be persuaded, they had better not see me.’

‘True; they’re my old supporters, and mightn’t like your Tory face,’ Mr. Lespel assented.

Mr. Ferbrass congratulated him on the heartiness of his espousal of the Tory cause.

Mr. Lespel winced a little, and told him not to put his trust in that.

‘Turned Tory?’ said Palmet.

Mr. Lespel declined to answer.

Palmet said to Mrs. Devereux, ’He thinks I’m not worth speaking to upon politics.  Now I’ll give him some Beauchamp; I learned lots yesterday.’

‘Then let it be in Captain Beauchamp’s manner,’ said she softly.

Palmet obeyed her commands with the liveliest exhibition of his peculiar faculty:  Cecilia, rejoining them, seemed to hear Nevil himself in his emphatic political mood.  ’Because the Whigs are defunct!  They had no root in the people!  Whig is the name of a tribe that was!  You have Tory, Liberal, and Radical.  There is no place for Whig.  He is played out.’

‘Who has been putting that nonsense into your head?’ Mr. Lespel retorted.  ‘Go shooting, go shooting!’

Shots were heard in the woods.  Palmet pricked up his ears; but he was taken out riding to act cavalier to Mrs. Devereux and Miss Halkett.

Cecilia corrected his enthusiasm with the situation.  ’No flatteries to-day.  There are hours when women feel their insignificance and helplessness.  I begin to fear for Mr. Austin; and I find I can do nothing to aid him.  My hands are tied.  And yet I know I could win voters if only it were permissible for me to go and speak to them.’

‘Win them!’ cried Palmet, imagining the alacrity of men’s votes to be won by her.  He recommended a gallop for the chasing away of melancholy, and as they were on the Bevisham high road, which was bordered by strips of turf and heath, a few good stretches brought them on the fir-heights, commanding views of the town and broad water.