Therefore he made no immediate reply to Mary the Tactful. But the Pushful Young Hussy—as every young married woman should be, my dear Miss Newnham—knew perfectly well that she had given the fellow-occupant of the sofa to think. As a matter of fact, the fellow-occupant thought considerable, and somewhat to this tenor.
I am not very pleased with Vandeleur just now. He as good as promised me that vacant Thistle, but he gave it to Blougram instead, who, of course, has not rendered one-tenth of my services to the Empire. Then this young fool is the eldest son of an old fool who takes himself far too seriously—an old fool who has jobbed his way into unmerited favor, and has done as much as anybody, outside the perfectly appalling Front Bench, to ruin the party. Well, I owe Vandeleur a grudge; I can’t abide pompous mediocrity; I’m feeling rather mischievous just now with this ill-tempered girl o’ mine left on my hands, when she ought to have been settled five years ago; and if the successor to Van’s very last and very worst creation goes over lock, stock and barrel to the Rag, Tag and Bobtails, legs are going to be pulled pretty badly all round, eh?
We hope the reasoning of the noble lord is clear to all parents and guardians. Certainly it is a little advanced for the junior members of the congregation. We have done our humble best to make it as lucid as possible, but the mental processes of an Ex-Ambassador call for the very nicest skill on the part of our Pegasus, who was never a very agile beast, at his best, and age don’t improve him.
Mary the Tactful waited quite a minute for the Fellow-Occupant to break the silence. And then into little pieces the silence was shattered.
“I don’t say I’ve any influence with Balsquith, but I might throw out a hint to Huffham and MacMurdo and the other Rag, Tag and Bobtail wire pullers that your man would like to stand for ’em, and a very able man, too.”
Tactful Mary was breathless with gratitude. But not for a moment did her statesmanlike grasp desert her.
“Some large manufacturing town—Leeds or Bootle, or Sheffield, or Blackhampton, where they’d remember my Cinderella, and where I’ve presented medals, and where I’ve sung at concerts, when they’ve brought home T’Coop. If Free Trade and I can’t get him in in any of those places, where they know a Cinderella when they see one—”
The granddaughter of the goddaughter of Edward Bean burst into a peal of laughter.
There was the grim light of Humor also in the ambassadorial eye.
“Best thing you can do, Mrs. Shelmerdine,” said Worldly Wisdom, “is to see that your young chap writes a nice sensible letter to Balsquith, stating his views clearly in as few words as he can; and in the meantime I’ll sow a few myself, and get Huffham or MacMurdo to meet him at lunch at the Helicon; and if at the next bye-election one Vandeleur don’t get his leg pulled, I’m better fitted to eat Thistles than to wear ’em.”