He laughed joyously.
"You should read the evening papers—you would understand a little the practical effect of our new Tariff Bill. Mills in Yorkshire and Lancashire are being opened that have been shut down for years; in Medchester, Northampton, and the boot-centres the unemployed are being swept into the factories. Manufacturers who have been struggling to keep their places open at all are planning extensions already. The wages bill throughout the country will be the largest next week that has been paid for years. Travellers are off to the Colonies with cases of samples—every manufacturing centre is suddenly alive once more. The terrible struggle for existence is lightened. Next week," Brooks continued, with an almost boyish twinkle in his eyes, "I shall go down to Medchester and walk through the streets where it used to make our hearts ache to see the unemployed waiting about like dumb suffering cattle. It will be a holiday—a glorious holiday."
"And yet behind it all," she remarked, watching him closely, "there is something on your mind. What is it?"
He looked at her quickly.
"What an observation."
"Won't you tell me?"
He shook his head.
"It is only one of the smallest cupboards," he said. "The ghost will very soon be stifled."
She sighed.
"Did you see Lord Arranmore this evening?"