"Something has happened?" she said.
"No," Callon replied. "I was at Lady Millingham's party. I suddenly thought of you sitting here alone. I am tired besides, and overworked. I knew it would be a rest for me if I could see you and talk to you for a few minutes. You see, I am selfish."
Millie smiled at him.
"No, kind," said she.
She asked him to sit down.
"You look tired," she added. "How does your election work go on?"
Callon related the progress of his campaign, and with an air of making particular confidences. He could speak without any reserve to her, he said. He conveyed the impression that he was making headway against almost insuperable obstacles. He flattered her, moreover, by a suggestion that she herself was a great factor in his successes. The mere knowledge that she wished him well, that perhaps, once or twice in the day, she gave him a spare thought, helped him much more than she could imagine. Millie was induced to believe that, although she sat quietly in London, she was thus exercising power through Callon in his constituency.
"Of course, I am a poor man," said Callon. "Poverty hampers one."
"Oh, but you will win," cried Millie Stretton, with a delighted conviction; "yes, you will win."
She felt strong, confident--just, in a word, as she had felt when she had agreed with Tony that he must go away.