“Do you not require in Parliament to be tolerant at times?” Adela pursued.

Ho admitted it, and to her outcry of “Oh, that noble public life!” smiled deprecatingly—­“My dear young lady, if you only knew the burden it brings!”

“It brings its burden,” said Adela, correcting, with a most proper instinct, another enthusiastic burst.  “At the same time the honour is above the load.  Am I talking too romantically?  You are at least occupied.”

“Nine-tenths of us to no very good purpose,” the baronet appended.

She rejoined:  “If it were but a fraction, the good done would survive.”

“And be more honourable to do, perhaps,” he ejaculated.  “The consolation should be great.”

“And is somehow small,” said she; and they laughed softly.

At this stage, Adela was ‘an exceedingly interesting young person’ in Sir Twickenham’s mental register.  He tried her on politics and sociology.  She kept her ears open, and followed his lead carefully—­venturing here and there to indicate an opinion, and suggesting dissent in a pained interrogation.  Finally, “I confess,” she said, “I understand much less than I am willing to think; and so I console myself with the thought that, after all, the drawing-room, and the...the kitchen?—­well, an educated ‘female’ must serve her term there, if she would be anything better than a mere ornament, even in the highest walks of life—­I mean the household is our sphere.  From that we mount to companionship—­if we can.”

Amazement of Sir Twickenham, on finding his own thought printed, as it were, on the air before him by these pretty lips!

The conversation progressed, until Adela, by chance, turned her eyes up a cross pathway and perceived her sister Cornelia standing with Mr. Barrett under a beech.  The man certainly held one of her hands pressed to his heart; and her attitude struck a doubt whether his other hand was disengaged or her waist free.  Adela walked nervously on without looking at the baronet; she knew by his voice presently that his eyes had also witnessed the sight.  “Two in a day,” she thought; “what will he imagine us to be!” The baronet was thinking:  “For your sister exposed, you display more agitation than for yourself insulted.”

Adela found Arabella in so fresh a mood that she was sure good news had been heard.  It proved that Mrs. Chump had sent a few lines in a letter carried by Braintop, to this effect:  “My dears all!  I found your father on his back in bed, and he discharged me out of the room; and the sight of me put him on his legs, and you will soon see him.  Be civil to Mr. Braintop, who is a faithful young man, of great merit, and show your gratitude to—­Martha Chump.”

Braintop confirmed the words of the letter:  and then Adela said—­“You will do us the favour to stay and amuse yourself here.  To-night there will be a bed at Brookfield.”

“What will he do?” Arabella whispered.