Part 21 (1/2)

”Well, 'having drink taken'--then?”

”After we were chucked out for interrupting (it _was_ a rag) we went back to the Moonstone.”

”To the Moonstone,” Mary repeated; ”why there?”

”Because we dined there, my dear. Young Rabb.i.+.c.h gave the feast; it was all arranged beforehand. We meant to spoil that meeting, but we began too soon, and they were too strong for us, and . . . he's an a.s.s, and shouted out all sorts of things he shouldn't--we deserved what we got.”

”And then?”

”I'm not very clear what happened then, except that there was the most tremendous s.h.i.+ndy in the street, and fur was flying like anything, and the next I know was two bobbies had got me, and your friend Gallup squared them and took me home and put me to bed . . . and here I am.”

”Mr Gallup,” Mary repeated incredulously; ”you've been to bed in his house?”

”You've got it, my sister; lay on his bed just as I am . . . and he woke me at six and sent me home on his bicycle.”

”But why--why should he have interfered? I should have thought he'd have been _glad_ for you to be taken up, interrupting his meeting and being on the other side . . . and everything.”

”Well, anyway, that's what he did, and whatever his motives may have been it was jolly decent of him . . . and . . .” here Grantly lowered his voice to the faintest mumble, ”he never said a word of reproof or exhortation . . . I tell you he behaved like a gentleman. What's to be done?”

”Nothing,” said Mary decidedly. ”You've played the fool, and by the mercy of Providence you've got off uncommonly cheap. It would worry mother horribly if she knew, and as for father . . . well you know what _he_ thinks of people who can't carry their liquor like gentlemen, and grandfather too . . . and . . . oh, Grantly--father's not going South till the very end of January; he decided to-night that as the weather was so mild he'd wait till then. So it would _never_ do if it was to come out, your life would be unbearable, all of our lives; he'd say it was the Grantly strain coming out--you know how he blames every bit of bad in us on mother's people.”

”I know,” groaned Grantly, ”I know.”

”Well, anyway,” Mary said in quite a different tone, ”there's one thing we've got to remember, and that is we must be uncommonly civil to that young man if we happen to meet him--he's put us under an obligation.”

”I know . . . I know, that's what I feel, and I shall never have an easy minute till I've done something for him . . . and I don't see anything I can do with the pater like he is and all. Isn't it a _beastly_ state of things?”

In the darkness Mary leant forward and stroked the tousled head bent down over Parker.

”Poor old boy,” she said softly, ”poor old boy,” and Parker licked something that tasted salt off the end of his nose.

When Grantly left his sister's room Parker went with him.

Eloquent's housekeeper found the missing key under his bed, and he sent it out to the Manor House that morning, addressed to Grantly, in a sealed envelope by special messenger.

In the evening the poll was declared in Marlehouse, and the Liberal candidate was elected by a majority of three hundred and forty-nine votes.

CHAPTER XV

OF THINGS IN GENERAL

The result of the election was no surprise to the defeated party. The honest among them acknowledged that they deserved to be beaten, and they felt no personal rancour against Eloquent.

If Marlehouse was unfortunate enough to be represented by a Radical, they preferred that the Radical should be a Marlehouse man and not some ”carpet-bagger” imported from South Wales. Eloquent's bearing, both during the contest and afterwards, was acknowledged to be modest and ”suitable.” If he was lacking in geniality and address, he was, at all events, neither b.u.mptious nor servile. His lenity towards the youths who had done their best to break up his meeting and wreck his committee rooms had leaked out, and gained for him, if not friends, at least toleration among several leading Conservatives who had been his bitterest opponents.

Mary, Grantly, and Buz Ffolliot all felt a sneaking satisfaction that he _had_ got in. A satisfaction they in no wise dared to express, for Mr Ffolliot was really much upset at the result of the election; feeling it something of a personal insult that one so closely a.s.sociated with a ready-made clothes' shop, a shop in his own nearest town, should represent him in Parliament. Mr Ffolliot would have preferred the ”carpet-bagger.”

Mary, who cared as little as she knew about politics, was pleased.

Because Eloquent had been ”decent” to Grantly, she was glad he had got what he wanted, though why he should ardently desire that particular thing she did not attempt to understand. Grantly was sincerely grateful to Eloquent for getting him out of what would undoubtedly have been a most colossal row, had any hint of his conduct at Marlehouse on the eve of the election reached his father's ears.