Maybe, Sir Joseph; yet perchance in that case you would have affirmed but half a truth. It takes a pretty bold man these days to say exactly how things do happen, Monsieur Bergson seems to think.
Still, Sir Joseph certainly thought it was piquant that the son of S. of P. should desire to help the Party. His qualifications for public life appeared to be rather obscure, but being the eldest son of his father he was not without a face value for the enemy.
“And so, Mr. Shelmerdine,” said the illustrious man, smiling over the club claret, “you think, with your wife’s assistance, you might be able to win a seat like South-West Blackhampton for the party of progress.”
“My wife is sure she could win it for me,” was the answer of Philip.
It was not, perhaps, the answer to be expected from a champion of the democracy; and the illustrious man looked rather quizzically across the table at his host. Were he and his party going to have their legs pulled in company with Van and the other side? Never trust an Irishman on principle, was one of Sir Joseph’s axioms; and in this case he rather felt like living up to it.
All the same, the exigencies of the situation called for a man somewhat out of the ordinary for South-West Blackhampton. At present that large and important industrial constituency was represented by a man of independent mind who owed allegiance to none. The power of his personality had carried him to the top of the poll in a three-cornered contest, in spite of the fact that he had an official Rag and an official Wagger, able men both, against him.
Good, sound, conventional candidates had failed against this Rawhead and Bloodybones. It was just possible that the husband of a favorite actress, and a famous footballer to boot, might be successful where his betters might fail. That, at least, was the local opinion.
“I presume, Mr. Shelmerdine,” said Sir Joseph Huffham, “in the event of your being adopted as a candidate for South-West Blackhampton, you would have no objection to signing a—er—” Sir Joseph paused while he took a type-written document from his pocket-book and adjusted his pince-nez—“a football league form for the Blackhampton Rovers?”
Mr. Shelmerdine was quite prepared to do that.
“And of playing for them occasionally, I presume, if your services were called upon?”