The campaign was broached by Mr. Jess. “Well, and how does my friend in the field? Gallantly, I am sure; happily, I hope.”
Mrs. Germain thought that he would win. “He works very hard. He’s speaking now, somewhere—out of the carriage, at a harvest home. I ought to have been with him, but——”
“You stayed to be hospitable to us. We are grateful. At least, I speak for myself. Tristram there takes kindness for granted.”
“Not Mrs. Germain’s,” said Tristram, and startled her.
However, she laughed. “I don’t think it was very kind of me; I was glad to be let off. I’m sure everything will go right now. Did you know that you must begin to-night, Mr. Jess? Do you mind? There’s a meeting at the Corn Exchange at eight. We are dining early.”
Mr. Jess laid his comfortable hand upon his heart. “I follow my leader. Where she calls me I am ever to be found.”
And then she raised her eyes to Tristram. “Will you speak for us, Mr. Duplessis?” He started, as out of a stare.
“Who? I? Oh, I’ll do as I’m bid, of course.”
“Enlist him, my dear lady, enrol him,” cried Mr. Jess, twinkling, “but if you love me, let him follow me. He has a note like a trumpet.”
“Really?” She opened her eyes upon Tristram.