Andy fingered his telegram absently, not in impatience; nothing very urgent was to be expected, the great _coup_ had already been made. He laid it down and listened again to Harry Belfield. "Upon my soul," Harry went on, "I rather envy you your life. A good steady straight job--and only got to stick to it. Now I'm no sooner out of one thing--well out of it--than they begin to kick at me to start another. The pater and Isobel are in the same story about it." Harry's face was now seriously clouded and his voice peevish. He had been through a great deal of trouble lately; he seemed to himself to be entitled to a rest, to a reasonable interval of undisturbed enjoyment. And he was being bothered about that career of his! "Well, I suppose you oughtn't to miss the next election. The sooner you go in the better, isn't it?" "It's not so easy to find a safe seat." Harry assumed that the constituency which he honoured should be one certain properly to appreciate the compliment. "I sometimes think I'd like to chuck the whole thing, and enjoy my life in my own way. Oh, I'm only joking, of course; but when they nag, I jib, you know." Andy nodded, relit his pipe, and opened his telegram. "That's why I think you're rather lucky to have it all cut and dried for you. Saves a lot of thinking!" Andy had been reading his telegram, not listening to Harry for the moment. "I beg pardon, Harry?" he said. "Oh, read it. I'm only gassing," said Harry good-humouredly. Andy read again; he always liked to read important documents twice. He laid it down on the office table, looking very thoughtful. "That's funny!" he observed. "It's from your father." "Well, I don't see why the pater shouldn't send you a telegram, if he wants to," smiled Harry. "Asking me to go down to Meriton on Saturday and meet Lord Meriton, Wigram, and himself." He took up the telegram and read the rest of the message--"to discuss important suggestion of public nature affecting yourself. Personal discussion necessary." "To meet Meriton and Wigram?" Wigram was the Conservative agent in the Division. "What the devil can they want?" "I don't know," said Andy, "unless--unless it's about the candidature." "About what?" Harry sharply withdrew the shapely foot from the table and sat upright in his chair. "Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? Still I don't see what else it can be about. What else can there be of a public nature affecting me? 'Affecting yourself' doesn't sound as if they only wanted my advice. Besides, why should they want my advice?" "Let's see the thing." Harry took it, read it, and flung it down peevishly. "Why the deuce can't he say what he means?" "Well, a wire's not always absolute secrecy in small towns, is it? And I daresay they'd want the matter kept quiet till it was settled."