He went on to elaborate these points with great clearness of exposition and at some length; then he paused.
"This being so," he resumed, "the question is, what can be done? There must be a petition. Amongst my own party I shall be, of course, able to do something, but we must have men of all sides. Without some at least of the leading Conservatives, we shall fare badly. In one word—do you imagine that you can induce Mr. Raeburn and Lord Maxwell to sign?"
Mrs. Boyce watched him keenly. Marcella sat in frozen paleness.
"I will try," she said at last, with deliberation.
"Then"—he took up his gloves—"there may be a chance for us. If you cannot succeed, no one else can. But if Lord Maxwell and Mr. Raeburn can be secured, others will easily follow. Their names—especially under all the circumstances—will carry a peculiar weight. I may say everything, in the first instance—the weight, the first effect of the petition—depends on them. Well, then, I leave it in your hands. No time should be lost after the sentence. As to the grounds of our plea, I shall, of course, lay them down in court to the best of my ability."
"I shall be there," she interrupted.
He started. So did Mrs. Boyce, but characteristically she made no comment.
"Well, then," he resumed after a pause, "I need say no more for the present. How is the wife?"
She replied, and a few other formal sentences of inquiry or comment passed between them.
"And your election?" said Mrs. Boyce, still studying him with hostile eyes, as he got up to take leave.