Part 27 (1/2)
”Say, I'm not quite sure I follow you,” Mr. Bundercombe observed. ”I am with you all right when you say that the direct pecuniary payment for being in Parliament doesn't amount to anything; but what's your pull worth, eh?”
”My what?” I inquired.
”Dash it all!” Mr. Bundercombe continued a little testily. ”I only want to get at the common sense of the matter. You are thinking of trying for a seat in Parliament, and you say the four hundred a year you get for it is nothing. Well, of course, it's nothing. What I want to know is just what you get out of it indirectly? You get the handling of so much patronage, I suppose? What is it worth to you, and how much is there?”
I spent the next five minutes in an eloquent attempt to explain the difference between English and American politics. Mr. Bundercombe was partly convinced, but more than ever sure that he had found his way into a country of half-witted people. Eve, however, was much quicker at grasping the situation.
”I think it's perfectly delightful, Paul!” she declared. ”I have read no end of stories of English electioneering, and they sound such fun! I want to come down and help. I have tons of new dresses--and I can read up all about politics going down on the train.”
”That brings me,” I went on, ”to the real object of my visit. I want you and your father--I want you all,” I added heroically--”to come down with me to Bedfords.h.i.+re and help. You were coming anyway next week for a little time, you know. I want to carry you off at once.”
Mrs. Bundercombe, who had been only waiting for her opportunity, broke in at this juncture.
”Young man,” she said impressively; ”Mr. Walmsley, before I consent to attend one of your meetings or to a.s.sociate myself in any way with your cause, I must ask you one plain and simple question, and insist upon a plain and simple answer: What are your views as to Woman Suffrage?”
”The views of my party,” I answered, with futile diplomacy.
”Enunciate as briefly as possible, but clearly, what the views of your party are,” Mrs. Bundercombe bade me.
”I won't have him heckled!” Eve protested, coming over to my side.
I coughed.
”We are entirely in sympathy,” I explained, ”with the enfranchis.e.m.e.nt of women up to a certain point. We think that unmarried women who own property and pay taxes should have the vote.”
”Rubbis.h.!.+” Mrs. Bundercombe exclaimed firmly. ”We want universal suffrage.
We want men and women placed on exactly the same footing, politically and socially.”
”That,” I said, ”I am afraid no political party would be prepared to grant at present.”
”Then, save as an opponent, I can attend no political meetings in this country,” Mrs. Bundercombe declared, rising to her feet with a fearsome air of finality.
I sighed.
”In that case,” I confessed, ”I am afraid it is useless for me to appeal to you for help. Perhaps you and your father----” I added, turning to Eve.
”Let them go down to you in the country by all means!” Mrs. Bundercombe interrupted. ”For my part, though my visit to Europe was wholly undesired --was forced upon me, in fact, by dire circ.u.mstances,” she added emphatically, glaring at Mr. Bundercombe--”since I am here I find so much work ready to my hand, so much appalling ignorance, so much prejudice, that I conceive it to be my duty to take up during my stay the work which presents itself here. I accordingly shall not leave London.”
Mr. Bundercombe cheered up perceptibly at these words.
”I am rather busy myself,” he said; ”but perhaps a day or two----”
I thrust my arm through his.
”I rely upon you to help me canva.s.s,” I told him. ”A lot is done by personal persuasion.”
”Canva.s.s!” Mr. Bundercombe repeated reflectively. ”Say, just what do you mean by that?”
”It is very simple,” I a.s.sured him. ”You go and talk to the farmers and voters generally, and put a few plain issues before them--we'll post you up all right as to what to say. Then you wind up by asking for their votes and interest on my behalf.”
”I do that--do I?” Mr. Bundercombe murmured. ”Talk to them in a plain, straightforward way, eh?”