she became an attentive nurse. Erb’s Aunt Emma lived at Penshurst: the old lady went up high in the estimation of the other villagers by reason of her nieces’ visit to the Court. The month being July, work well in demand and overtime to be had without asking, Erb was able to obtain consent to almost any project that he liked to submit to his committee. The society was new enough to feel the enthusiasm of youth; the men were pleased with the sensation of power that it gave to them, and they assumed there were no limits to its possibilities. From which causes Erb had several irons heating in the fire, of which one was a new paper to be called “The Carman,” to be issued twice a month, and to cost one halfpenny per copy. The expense of production would be something more than this, but when Erb, who was to be managing editor, used that blessed word “propaganda,” there was nothing more to be said, and the last doubter gave in. It was at this time that Erb gave up whistling in the streets. The white-haired labour member had taken him to the House on two occasions, and in the smoking room had introduced him to some wealthy members of the party; and, whilst the board at the side showed the names of unattractive speakers, the members chatted so agreeably that Erb forgot himself occasionally and addressed one who was in evening dress, and had so much money that he wore several coins on his watch chain, as “Sir;” lifting of eyebrows on the part of the labour member told him he had blundered. Members asked questions of Erb, questions which betrayed the fact that their knowledge of the real feelings of the working men was superficial, and thenceforth Erb felt more at his ease. They gave their names as patrons of the Spanswick benefit, and the member who wore coins offered Erb a cigarette, and, seeing him through the outer lobby, begged him to drop a line should anything important occur; this in a way that suggested later to Erb, as he crossed Westminster, that the coin member wanted to find opportunity of becoming attached to some creditable grievance, not so much for the sake of the grievance as for the sake of himself. “Now,” said Erb definitely to the fringe of lights near St. Thomas’s Hospital, “I’m not going to be made a cat’s paw, mind you.”