If Volumnia have a fault, it is the fault of being a trifle too innocent, seeing that the innocence which would go extremely well with a sash and tucker is a little out of keeping with the rouge and pearl necklace. Howbeit, impelled by innocence, she asks, “What for?”
“Volumnia,” remonstrates Sir Leicester with his utmost severity. “Volumnia!”
“No, no, I don’t mean what for,” cries Volumnia with her favourite little scream. “How stupid I am! I mean what a pity!”
“I am glad,” returns Sir Leicester, “that you do mean what a pity.”
Volumnia hastens to express her opinion that the shocking people ought to be tried as traitors and made to support the party.
“I am glad, Volumnia,” repeats Sir Leicester, unmindful of these mollifying sentiments, “that you do mean what a pity. It is disgraceful to the electors. But as you, though inadvertently and without intending so unreasonable a question, asked me ‘what for?’ let me reply to you. For necessary expenses. And I trust to your good sense, Volumnia, not to pursue the subject, here or elsewhere.”
Sir Leicester feels it incumbent on him to observe a crushing aspect towards Volumnia because it is whispered abroad that these necessary expenses will, in some two hundred election petitions, be unpleasantly connected with the word bribery, and because some graceless jokers have consequently suggested the omission from the Church service of the ordinary supplication in behalf of the High Court of Parliament and have recommended instead that the prayers of the congregation be requested for six hundred and fifty-eight gentlemen in a very unhealthy state.
“I suppose,” observes Volumnia, having taken a little time to recover her spirits after her late castigation, “I suppose Mr. Tulkinghorn has been worked to death.”
“I don’t know,” says Sir Leicester, opening his eyes, “why Mr. Tulkinghorn should be worked to death. I don’t know what Mr. Tulkinghorn’s engagements may be. He is not a candidate.”
Volumnia had thought he might have been employed. Sir Leicester could desire to know by whom, and what for. Volumnia, abashed again, suggests, by somebody—to advise and make arrangements. Sir Leicester is not aware that any client of Mr. Tulkinghorn has been in need of his assistance.