"Getting my case brought on again and again in the House of Commons, and having debates about it, and making the whole thing public, and so forcing the Government either to do me justice or to satisfy the country that justice has already been done," he said bitterly. "That would seem to me a right thing to do," Miss Grey said; "but I know so little that I ought not to offer a word of advice." "Oh, yes, I should trust to your feelings and instincts in such a case. Well, I don't like, somehow, being in the hands of politicians and party men, who might use me and my cause only as a means of annoying the Government--not really from any sense of right and justice. I don't know if I make myself quite understood; it is hard to expect a lady, especially a young lady, to understand these things." "I think I can quite understand all that. We are not so stupid as you seem to suppose, Mr. Heron." "Stupid? Didn't I tell you of my goddess theory?" "Some of the goddesses were very stupid I always think. Venus was stupid." "Well, well; anyhow you are not Venus." "No, indeed." "In that sense I mean. Then I do succeed in making myself understood?" "Oh, yes!" She could see that he was looking disappointed at her interruption and her seeming levity, which was indeed only the result of a momentary impulse to keep up to herself her character as a scorner of men. "I think I understand quite clearly that you fear to be made the mere instrument of politicians; and I think you are quite right. I did not think of that at first, but, now that you explain it, I am sure that you are right." He nodded approvingly. "Then comes the question," he said, "what is to be done?" Leaning against the bridge, he thrust his hands into his pockets, and stood looking into her face, as if he were really waiting for her to solve the problem for him. "That is entirely beyond me," she said. "I know nothing; I could not even guess at what ought to be done." "No? Now here is my idea. Why not plead my cause myself?" "Plead your cause yourself? Can that be done?" "Yes; myself--in Parliament." Minola's mind at once formed and framed a picture of a stately assembly, like a Roman Senate, or like the group of King Agrippa, Festus, Bernice, and the rest, and Mr. Heron pleading his cause like Cicero or Paul. The thing seemed hardly congruous. It did not seem to her to fall in with modern conditions at all. Her face became blank; she did not well know what to answer. "Are people allowed to do such things now, in England?" she asked--"to plead causes before Parliament?" An odd idea came up in her mind, that perhaps by the time this strange performance came to be enacted, Mr. Augustus Sheppard might be in Parliament, and Mr. Heron's enthusiastic eloquence would have to be addressed to him. She did not like the idea.