“I like Mr. Vane very much,—and for himself,” she said quietly. “But I haven't seen him since I came back. Nor do I think I am likely to see him. What made you ask about him?”
“Well, he seems to be a man of some local standing, and he ought to be in this campaign. If you happen to see him, you might mention the subject to him. I've sent for him to come up and see me.”
“Mr. Vane doesn't seem to me to be a person one can send for like that,” Victoria remarked judicially. “As to advising him as to what course he should take politically—that would even be straining my friendship for you, Humphrey. On reflection,” she added, smiling, “there may appear to you reasons why I should not care to meddle with—politics, just now.”
“I can't see it,” said Mr. Crewe; “you've got a mind of your own, and you've never been afraid to use it, so far as I know. If you should see that Vane man, just give him a notion of what I'm trying to do.”
“What are you trying to do?” inquired Victoria, sweetly.
“I'm trying to clean up this State politically,” said Mr. Crewe, “and I'm going to do it. When you come down to Leith, I'll tell you about it, and I'll send you the newspapers to-day. Don't be in a hurry,” he cried, addressing over his shoulder two farmers in a wagon who had driven up a few moments before, and who were apparently anxious to pass. “Wind her up, Adolphe.”
The chauffeur, standing by the crank, started the engine instantly, and the gears screamed as Mr. Crewe threw in his low speed. The five-year-old whirled, and bolted down the road at a pace which would have seemed to challenge a racing car; and the girl in the saddle, bending to the motion of the horse, was seen to raise her hand in warning.
“Better stay whar you be,” shouted one of the farmers; “don't go to follerin' her. The hoes is runnin' away.”
Mr. Crewe steered his car into the Fairview entrance, and backed into the road again, facing the other way. He had decided to go home.
“That lady can take care of herself,” he said, and started off towards Leith, wondering how it was that Mr. Flint had not confided his recent political troubles to his daughter.