His suggestions to His Majesty’s Cabinet were masterpieces of political trickery, and their adoption was a foregone conclusion in spite of the Ministers who raised objections. The party had to win back favour somehow, and at any rate his were the best plans that offered.
But all through the stirring meetings of the week he never once forgot Hal. His silence was merely an adaptation of the policy he was urging upon his colleagues. “If I leave her alone till Friday she will get piqued,” was his thought, “and then she will come.”
Accordingly, soon after the luncheon hour he rang her up.
“Hullo,” he called. “At last I have got a moment to speak to you.”
“What has happened to all the other moments?” she asked.
“We’ve had a very anxious, worrying week in the House. I’ve scarcely had time to get my meals. You surely didn’t suppose I had forgotten you—did you?”
“I didn’t suppose either way. It didn’t matter.”
The man at the other end of the wire smiled openly in his empty room. “Prevaricator,” was his thought “but, by Gad, she’s game.”
“Well, anyhow I hadn’t, and I wasn’t likely to. I only hope you haven’t made another engagement for Sunday? I’m badly in need of a long day in the country. Are you still free?”
“It depends—”