If we’re not practical, what are we?—­Beauchamp, talking to Cougham apart, would argue that the daring and the far-sighted course was often the most practical.  Cougham extended a deprecating hand:  ’Yes, I have gone over all that.’  Occasionally he was maddening.

The melancholy position of the senior and junior Liberals was known abroad and matter of derision.

It happened that the gay and good-humoured young Lord Palmet, heir to the earldom of Elsea, walking up the High Street of Bevisham, met Beauchamp on Tuesday morning as he sallied out of his hotel to canvass.  Lord Palmet was one of the numerous half-friends of Cecil Baskelett, and it may be a revelation of his character to you, that he owned to liking Beauchamp because of his having always been a favourite with the women.  He began chattering, with Beauchamp’s hand in his:  ’I’ve hit on you, have I?  My dear fellow, Miss Halkett was talking of you last night.  I slept at Mount Laurels; went on purpose to have a peep.  I’m bound for Itchincope.  They’ve some grand procession in view there; Lespel wrote for my team; I suspect he’s for starting some new October races.  He talks of half-a-dozen drags.  He must have lots of women there.  I say, what a splendid creature Cissy Halkett has shot up!  She topped the season this year, and will next.  You’re for the darkies, Beauchamp.  So am I, when I don’t see a blonde; just as a fellow admires a girl when there’s no married woman or widow in sight.  And, I say, it can’t be true you’ve gone in for that crazy Radicalism?  There’s nothing to be gained by it, you know; the women hate it!  A married blonde of five-and-twenty’s the Venus of them all.  Mind you, I don’t forget that Mrs. Wardour-Devereux is a thorough-paced brunette; but, upon my honour, I’d bet on Cissy Halkett at forty.  “A dark eye in woman,” if you like, but blue and auburn drive it into a corner.’

Lord Palmet concluded by asking Beauchamp what he was doing and whither going.

Beauchamp proposed to him maliciously, as one of our hereditary legislators, to come and see something of canvassing.  Lord Palmet had no objection.  ‘Capital opportunity for a review of their women,’ he remarked.

’I map the places for pretty women in England; some parts of Norfolk, and a spot or two in Cumberland and Wales, and the island over there, I know thoroughly.  Those Jutes have turned out some splendid fair women.  Devonshire’s worth a tour.  My man Davis is in charge of my team, and he drives to Itchincope from Washwater station.  I am independent; I ’ll have an hour with you.  Do you think much of the women here?’

Beauchamp had not noticed them.

Palmet observed that he should not have noticed anything else.

‘But you are qualifying for the Upper House,’ Beauchamp said in the tone of an encomium.