‘I’ll make a beginning to-morrow. At least, I think I will. I don’t neglect things wilfully, but it’s so awfully hard to really get at it when the time comes.’
The luncheon-bell rang, and Alice, with a cry of dismay, sped to her room. She knew that her brother was to lunch at home to-day, and Richard was terrible in the matter of punctuality.
As Soon as the meal was over Alice hastened back to her low chair in the drawing-room. Richard and his wife went together into the garden.
‘What do you think Rodman’s been advising me this morning?’ Mutimer said, speaking with a cigar in his mouth. ‘It’s a queer idea; I don’t quite know what to think of it. You know there’ll be a general election some time next year, and he advises me to stand for Belwick.’
He did not look at his wife. Coming to a garden-seat, he put up one foot upon it, and brushed the cigar ash against the back. Adela sat down; she had not replied at once, and was thoughtful.
‘As a Socialist candidate?’ she asked, when at length he turned his eyes to her.
‘Well, I don’t know. Radical rather, I should think. It would come to the same thing, of course, and there’d be no use in spoiling the thing for the sake of a name.’
Adela had a Japanese fan in her hand; she put it against her forehead, and still seemed to consider.
‘Do you think you could find time for Parliament?’
‘That has to be thought of, of course; but by then I should think we might arrange it. There’s not much that Rodman can’t see to.’