"No, Willets, I haven't been able to get away for a minute till now, but I may manage to run down to Woolwich next week just to buck to the General about my catch. You'll have him down then post haste—I bet——"
"I suppose, sir," said Willets, with studied carelessness, "you never happened to come across the young man that's member for these parts?"
"What, young Gallup? I believe I saw him once. He's making quite a name for himself I hear, his maiden speech was in all the papers. By the way though, I did hear of him the other day in a letter I had from Miss Mary. They'd all been to dine at the House of Commons with him, and had no end of a time."
"Well I am damned!" said Willets.
He said it seriously, almost devoutly, and Reggie turned right round to stare at him.
"I beg your pardon, sir, I'm sure, but I really was fairly flabbergasted."
He stood up sturdy and respectful in a patch of moonlight, and his keen brown eyes raked Reggie's as though they would read his very soul.
It wasn't an easy soul to read, and Reggie knew that Willets had something on his mind, so he waited.
"I beg your pardon, sir," Willets said again. He had never got over the feeling that Reggie was one of the young gentlemen, and that it behoved him to be careful of his language in front of him.
Reggie Peel laughed. "Look here, Willets," he said, "what's your objection? Why shouldn't they go to the House of Commons to dine with Gallup if it amuses them?"