"You are glad?" Howard said, with a smile of sympathy that had something of mockery in it, for your worldly cynic is always amused by worldliness in others.
"Yes, I am glad; but not for my own sake. You think I am pining for a coronet? I do not care—it is for Stafford's sake that I am glad. Nothing is too good for him, no title too high!"
"Do you think Stafford cares?" asked Howard.
She flushed and her eyes fell before his.
"No," she said, with a deep sigh. "I do not think he cares. He seems quite indifferent. All the time Sir Stephen and I have been working—"
"Have you been working?" said Howard, raising his eyebrows.
She laughed a little wearily.
"Indeed, yes. I have been—what do you men call it?—log-rolling for weeks. It is I who have found out what is wanted by the people who can help us. And it is generally, always, in fact, money. Always money! I get 'tips' from Sir Stephen and my father, and whisper them to the lords and ladies who have influence in the political drawing-rooms and clubs."
"And Sir Stephen?"
She laughed.