"It's wonderful," Brooks admitted. "I congratulate you heartily."
"Thanks," Mr. Bullsom answered.
"We want papa to buy a house in the country, and go to town for the season," Selina said. "So long as we can afford it I am dying to get out of Medchester. It is absolutely the most commercial town I have ever been in.
"Your father should stand for Parliament himself," Brooks suggested.
It is really possible that Mr. Bullsom, being a man governed entirely by one idea at a time, had never seriously contemplated the possibility of himself stepping outside the small arena of local politics. It is certain at any rate that Brooks' words came to him as an inspiration. He stared for a moment into his glass—then at Brooks. Finally he banged the table with the flat of his hand.
"It's an idea!" he exclaimed. "Why not?"
"Why not, indeed?" Brooks answered. "You'd be a popular candidate for the borough."
"I'm chairman of the committee," Mr. Bullsom declared; "I'll propose myself. I've taken the chair at political dinners and meetings for the last twenty years. I know the runs, and the people of Medchester know me. Why not, indeed? Mr. Brooks, sir, you're a genius."
"You 'ave given him something to think about," Mrs. Bullsom murmured, amiably. "I'd be willing enough but for the late hours. They never did agree with Peter—did they? He's always been such a one for his rest."
Mr. Bullsom's thumbs made their accustomed pilgrimage.