“All the same, I am ambitious for my child. I should not like to think of her settling down to the somewhat vulgar mediocrity of your manufacturing middle-classes. And, what’s more, Beaumont, Eleanor won’t like it. Depend on it. She will not like your bejewelled dames sprung from the loom, with good hearts, maybe, and excellent principles, but lax notions about the letter H. She may not think so now. No doubt she’ll think that for life and eternity you will be all in all. But it won’t do. She’ll miss the kind of society she has been used to, and I don’t think she’s the sort of girl to find her compensation in the nursery and household idolatry. You must go into Parliament, Beaumont. With your ability you can count on a Junior Lordship, at least. That is, if you shred some of your impracticabilities and vote the party ticket, as I think they phrase it in America. And, of course, you’ll do that.” “I have thought of Parliament, sir, but as a remote possibility. Something to crown my days, not to begin them on. But I should not run well in official harness.” “Oh, we won’t insist on that. After all, an M.P.’s an M.P., if he’s but a Radical member. I don’t like that Labouchere, though he’s an amusing fellow, and of good family, too. Well, go into Parliament, and then come to me for my blessing.” “And meanwhile, sir?” “Meanwhile? meanwhile? Why, if Eleanor St. Clair has said she will have you, have you she will, and I don’t and won’t withhold my consent from your engagement. But I ask you not to press for an early marriage. Win your spurs, Edward, and then we’ll set the wedding bells ringing. You’re both young, and waiting will try you and do you good. Now, admit I’m reasonable.” “I don’t say you’re not. So hey! for Westminster and my bride.” “What did papa say to you, Edward?” asked Eleanor when he sought her to tell her the issue of the dreaded interview. “Wasn’t he awfully cross?” “Not a bit of it. I can bring a ring for the prettiest hand in the world the next time I come down. But I’m to get into Parliament before I bring the plain gold loop.” Eleanor’s eyes sparkled. “Did papa really say that?” Edward nodded. “Oh! won’t that be glorious! And I can go up to town for the season. Shall we be so very poor, Edward? Shall we have to live in a garret when we go to London, and shall I have to sit in the Ladies’ Gallery in a print frock whilst you make your maiden speech in fustian.” “Not so bad as that, Eleanor mine. But I’m not in yet. Can you wait; will you wait?” “Wait, you know I will wait, sir. Besides, we shan’t have to wait long. You’re sure to be elected as soon as you try. I wish there was an election to-morrow. I’ll canvas for you, Edward!” “And bribe the electors as the Duchess bribed for Fox?” “Are Yorkshiremen _very_ fond of kisses, sir?” “What should you say?”