Business, too, came naturally to her, so much so that her father would consult her about his undertakings, that is, about those of them which were absolutely above board and beyond suspicion of sharp dealing. The others he was far too wise to bring within her ken, knowing exactly what he would have heard from her upon the subject. And yet notwithstanding all his care she suspected him, by instinct, not by knowledge. For his part he was proud of her and would listen with pleasure when, still a mere child, she engaged his guests boldly in argument, for instance a bishop or a dean on theology, or a statesman on current politics. Already he had formed great plans for her future; she was to marry a peer who took an active part in things, or at any rate a leading politician, and to become a power in the land. But of this, too, wisely he said nothing to Isobel, for the time had not yet come. During these years things had prospered exceedingly with John Blake who was now a very rich man with ships owned, or partly owned by him on every sea. On several occasions he had been asked to stand for Parliament and declined the honour. He knew himself to be no speaker, and was sure also that he could not attend both to the affairs of the country and to those of his ever-spreading business. So he took another course and began to support the Conservative Party, which he selected as the safest, by means of large subscriptions. He did more, he bought a baronetcy, for only thus can the transaction be described. When a General Election was drawing near, one evening after dinner at Hawk’s Hall he had a purely business conversation with a political Whip who, perhaps not without motive, had been complaining to him of the depleted state of the Party Chest. “Well,” said Mr. Blake, “you know that my principles are yours and that I should like to help your, or rather our cause. Money is tight with me just now and the outlook is very bad in my trade, but I’m a man who always backs his fancy; in short, would £15,000 be of use?” The Whip intimated that it would be of the greatest use. “Of course,” continued Mr. Blake, “I presume that the usual acknowledgment would follow?” “What acknowledgment?” asked the Whip sipping his port wearily, for such negotiations were no new thing to him. “I mean, how do you spell it?” “With a P,” said Mr. Blake boldly, acting on his usual principle of asking for more than he hoped to get. The Whip contemplated him through his eyeglass with a mild and interested stare. “Out of the question, my dear fellow,” he said. “That box is full and locked, and there’s a long outside list waiting as well. Perhaps you mean with a K. You know money isn’t everything, as some of you gentlemen seem to think, and if it were, you would have said fifty instead of fifteen.” “K be damned!” replied Mr. Blake. “I’m not a mayor or an actor-manager. Let’s say B, that stands for Beginning as well as Baronet; also it comes before P, doesn’t it?”