“Do you mean that those termagants will begin to worry us on the very first day of Parliament?”
“We lose no time. We’ll get in if we can, and if we can’t—well, we’ll make ourselves felt, one way or another.”
“I—I’d be grateful if you would give me your promise to stay at home.”
“You see I have given my promise to go to the House.”
“The police will certainly interfere. I fancy they will take the first opportunity— That is only a hint.”
“Oh, we are quite convinced that the police have their orders from the Government. But we mind nothing. Nothing! At the same time let me tell you that we are not going to-morrow with the intention of creating a disturbance. We are not in love with rows, and although we are willing to be hurt, we are not in love with that, either. How we behave depends entirely upon how they behave.”
The duke regarded her for a minute. Then he looked down and tapped a penholder on the table. “Very well,” he said. “Go with the others, I only trust and pray—I intercede for you every morning at prayers—that you won’t be accidentally hurt in these forays, and that you will come to your senses before long. As soon as you do we should be happy to have you come and live with us. I—I have always missed you.”
He rose. Julia ran over and threw her arms about his neck. “You are a dear!” she cried. “And you always were nice to me in your funny way.”
The duke laughed, and disentangled himself.
“There, there!” he said. “You look now about as old as you did when you came to us. You are not quite remade. I shall hope.”