"That is so little," said Lady Carbury. She was really very fond of Mr. Broune, but at the present moment she was obliged to humour Mr. Alf.
"It seems to me that no man can be better qualified to sit in Parliament than an editor of a newspaper,—that is if he is capable as an editor."
"No one, I think, has ever doubted that of you."
"The only question is whether he be strong enough for the double work. I have doubted about myself, and have therefore given up the paper. I almost regret it."
"I dare say you do," said Lady Carbury, feeling intensely anxious to talk about her own affairs instead of his. "I suppose you still retain an interest in the paper?"
"Some pecuniary interest;—nothing more."
"Oh, Mr. Alf,—you could do me such a favour!"
"Can I? If I can, you may be sure I will." False-hearted, false-tongued man! Of course he knew at the moment what was the favour Lady Carbury intended to ask, and of course he had made up his mind that he would not do as he was asked.
"Will you?" And Lady Carbury clasped her hands together as she poured forth the words of her prayer. "I never asked you to do anything for me as long as you were editing the paper. Did I? I did not think it right, and I would not do it. I took my chance like others, and I am sure you must own that I bore what was said of me with a good grace. I never complained. Did I?"
"Certainly not."