“I should like to go to the Temple Church sometimes,” said Mary, “because of the singing, only it is so very far.”

Charles Sylvester bent forward with bland satisfaction; he had it so obviously on the tip of his tongue that he would be charmed to be her escort, that the girl hastened to interrupt him.

“You were not at Lady Dulminster’s, Mr. Sylvester?  We quite expected to see you.”

“If I had known that you were to be there!” he exclaimed.  Then he added:  “I had a card, and, indeed, I fully intended to look in.  But one is always so pressed for time just before the long vacation, and yesterday I was quite exhausted.  Did you see any of my people?”

“Yes,” said Mary, “Eve was there; we expected her to play.  It is a very musical house.”

“Ah, yes!  I have heard so from my sister, and from Colonel Lightmark.  He says that Lady Dulminster is really a most accomplished woman.”

“He looks as if he found her charming,” put in Lady Garnett with a shrug.  Then she added, suppressing a yawn, her thin fingers dallying regretfully with the leaves of her novel:  “I suppose your exertions are nearly over, Mr. Sylvester.  You will be going away soon?”

He shook his head gravely.

“I fear not for long.  I may have a week’s cruise with my brother-in-law—­you know, he has a yacht for the summer—­but my labours are only beginning.  I have the elections in view.  You agree with me, no doubt, Lady Garnett, that the Government is bound to go to the country in the autumn; you know, of course, that I am thinking of standing for——­”

“I congratulate you in advance, Mr. Sylvester!  I am sure you will get in, especially if you have your sister down to canvass.”

“I am afraid Eve is not sufficiently interested in politics to be of much assistance,” said the candidate.  Then he went on, a little nervously, pulling at his collar:  “You will wish me success, Miss Masters?”

“Oh, yes!” said the girl hastily; “I am sure we both wish you that, Mr. Sylvester.  We shall be most interested, shall we not, Aunt Marcelle?”

Lady Garnett came to her assistance with smiling promptitude.

“Of course, Mr. Sylvester; we will even wear your colours, if they are becoming, you know; and I am sure you would not fight under any others.  And, mind, we will have no reforms—­unless you like to try your hand on the climate.  But nothing else!  You are so fond of reforming, you English—­even the most Conservative of you—­that I live in constant fear of being reformed away.  I hope, Mr. Sylvester, you are more Conservative than that.”

Charles Sylvester flushed a little; he cleared his throat elaborately before he replied: 

“I fear I have failed to make myself understood, Lady Garnett; in no sense do I call myself a Conservative, though I am prepared to vote with the party on the Irish Question.  I am a Liberal Unionist, Lady Garnett.  I may almost call myself a Radical Unionist.  My views on the emancipation of labour, for instance, are quite advanced.  I am prepared——­”