“Well,” said Mr. Crewe, “it was a plain duty, and nobody else seemed willing to undertake it.”
Mrs. Pomfret's eyes had flashed.
“Men of that type are scarce,” she answered. “But you'll win. You're the kind of man that wins.”
“Oh, yes, I'll win,” said Mr. Crewe.
“You're so magnificently sure of yourself,” cried Mrs. Pomfret. “Alice is taking such an interest. Every day she asks, 'When is Humphrey going to make his first speech?' You'll let us know in time, won't you?”
“Did you put all that nonsense in the New York Flare?” asked Mr. Crewe.
“Oh, Humphrey, I hope you liked it,” cried Mrs. Pomfret. “Don't make the mistake of despising what women can do. They elected the Honourable Billy Aylestone—he said so himself. I'm getting all the women interested.”
“Who've you been calling on now?” he inquired.
Mrs. Pomfret hesitated.
“I've been up at Fairview to see about Mrs. Flint. She isn't much better.”