‘You are inclined to think of it?’
Adela’s tone to her husband was not one of tenderness, but of studious regard and deference. She very seldom turned her eyes to his, but there was humility in her bent look. If ever he and she began to speak at the same time, she checked herself instantly, and Mutimer had no thought of giving her precedence. This behaviour in his wife struck him as altogether becoming.
‘I almost think I am,’ he replied. ‘I’ve a notion I could give them an idea or two at Westminster. It would be news to them to hear a man say what he really thinks.’
Adela smiled faintly, but said nothing.
‘Would you like me to be in Parliament?’ Richard asked, putting down his foot and leaning back his head a little.
‘Certainly, if you feel that it is a step gained.’
‘That’s just what I think it would be. Well, we must talk about it again. By-the-by, I’ve just had to send a fellow about his business.’
‘To discharge a man?’ Adela asked, with pain.
‘Yes. It’s that man Rendal; I was talking about him the other day, you remember. He’s been getting drunk; I’ll warrant it’s not the first time.’
‘And you really must send him away? Couldn’t you give him another chance?’