"For myself," she said, "I like a politician who is in earnest. They are more amusing, and more impressive in every way. Who was the young man you spoke to in that little place where we had tea?" she asked her host.
"His name is Kingston Brooks," Arranmore answered. "He is the agent for
Henslow, the Radical candidate."
"Well, I liked him," she said. "If I had a vote I would let him convert me to Radicalism. I am sure that he could do it."
"He shall try—if you like," Arranmore remarked.
I am going to ask him to shoot one day."
"I am delighted to hear it," the girl answered. "I think he would be a wholesome change. You are all too flippant here."
The door opened. Mr. Hennibul, K.C., inserted his head and shoulders.
"I have been to look at Arranmore's golf-links," he remarked. "They are quite decent. Will some one come and play a round?"
"I will come," Sybil declared, putting down her book.
"And I," Molyneux joined in. "Hennibul can play our best ball."