"When do you begin to be elected?" asked Peter, suddenly expanding.
"Almost at once. I'll send for you when the time comes."
"What's the idea of that?"
"You must come round the constituency—fifty miles across in its narrowest part. I want someone to feed me with sandwiches and keep my spirits up. Besides it will do you good. You'll meet some people who have never written a book and haven't any opinions."
"Beasts of the field," said Peter.
"Not at all. They're all on the register; and they will vote for Marbury."
By the time they had reached Charing Cross Marbury had persuaded Peter to tell his address. He also agreed to join Marbury immediately he was summoned. The next day he went with his mother to Hamingburgh, and afterwards packed for the country. He would wander aimlessly in Worcestershire from village to village till Marbury sent for him.
Already he was happier for the meeting. He felt an access of real affection for Marbury on being interrupted in his packing by the arrival of the books Marbury had promised. He pitched them unopened into his trunk, in confidence that Marbury had chosen well.