"Certainly I know her. A most estimable woman with a brilliant brain. I may say that as a general rule I do not hold with women standing for Parliament. They can make their influence felt in a more womanly fashion." She paused, doubtless to recall the womanly way in which she had forced a reluctant husband into the political arena and the marvellous success which had crowned his and her efforts. "But still, times change. And the work Mrs. Macatta is doing is of truly national importance, and of the utmost value to all women. It is, I think I may say, true womanly work. You must certainly meet Mrs. Macatta."
Bundle gave a rather dismal sigh.
"She's going to be at a house-party at George Lomax's next week. He asked Father, who, of course, won't go, but he never thought of asking me. Thinks I'm too much of an idiot, I suppose."
It occurred to Lady Caterham that her niece was really wonderfully improved. Had she, perhaps, had an unfortunate love affair? An unfortunate love affair, in Lady Caterham's opinion, was often highly beneficial to young girls. It made them take life seriously.
"I don't suppose George Lomax realizes for a moment that you have—shall we say, grown up? Eileen, dear," she said, "I must have a few words with him."
"He doesn't like me," said Bundle. "I know he won't ask me."
"Nonsense," said Lady Caterham. "I shall make a point of it. I knew George Lomax when he was so high." She indicated a quite impossible height. "He will be only too pleased to do me a favour. And he will be sure to see for himself that it is vitally important that the present day young girls of our own class should take an intelligent interest in the welfare of their country."
Bundle nearly said: "Hear, hear," but checked herself.
"I will find you some literature now," said Lady Caterham, rising.
She called in a piercing voice, "Miss Connor."