"I think so," Brooks answered. "It is certain to be a very close contest, but I believe we shall get a small majority. The Jingo element are our greatest trouble. They are all the time trying to make people believe that Conservatives have the monopoly of the Imperial sentiment. As a matter of fact, I think that Henslow is almost rabid on the war question."
"Still, your platform—to use an Americanism," Mr. Hennibul interposed, "must be founded upon domestic questions. Medchester is a manufacturing town, and I am given to understand is suffering severely. Has your man any original views on the present depression in trade?"
Brooks glanced towards the speaker with a smile.
"You have been reading the Medchester Post!" he remarked.
The barrister nodded.
"Yes. It hinted at some rather surprising revelation."
"You must read Henslow's speech at the mass meeting to-morrow night,"
Brooks said. "At present I mustn't discuss these matters too much,
especially before a political opponent," he remarked, smiling at Mr.
Molyneux. "You might induce Mr. Rochester to play our trump card."
"If your trump card is what I suspect it to be," Mr. Hennibul said, "I don't think you need fear that. Rochester would be ready enough to try it, but some of his supporters wouldn't listen to it."
The conversation drifted away from politics. Brooks found himself enjoying his luncheon amazingly. Sybil Caroom devoted herself to him, and he found himself somehow drawn with marvellous facility into the little circle of intimate friends. Afterwards they all strolled into the hall together for coffee, and Arranmore laid his hand upon his arm.
"I am sorry that you will not have time to look round the place," he said. "You must come over again before long."