She was a tall girl, and carried herself well. Most people would have agreed with her uncle's estimation of her looks. She wore no hat, and her face was certainly slightly tanned. "Uncle George," she said, "I want you to do something." "Not tennis," said George sleepily. "Nothing violent. After tea, perhaps, when it's cooler." "That's not it at all. Now listen. When you're at the House, you have tea on the Terrace sometimes, don't you?" "Sometimes. Whisky-and-soda sometimes. What do you want?" "You can ask people to come and have tea on the Terrace, can't you? Well, you've got to ask me. Next Tuesday, please. And you've got to persuade Aunt Jane to let me go, too." "I'm not so sure about that," said George. "I've just been getting into a row about you. I'm not at all sure that I'm not a bad influence, and that any proposal of mine would not be vetoed." "You can do it all right," said the girl decisively, "if you go the right way about it. Say that it's historical. I mean that your silly old House of Commons is historical. It would have a great educational value for me. You could show me where Chatham stood when he made his last grand speech, and fell down in the middle of it." "That happened to be in another place, to wit, the House of Lords." "It's all the same. And rub it in a bit about Burke--she's keen on Burke. Keep up a good strong educational line, and Aunt Jane will be glad to let me go." "Very well. I'll do what I can. Next Tuesday at four o'clock. Tell me what time your train gets to Euston, and I'll meet it." Ruth looked away from him, and appeared to be addressing one of the pillars of the veranda. "I don't think you need meet it. In fact, I'd rather you didn't. I know my way about London very well. You just wait at the House of Commons. And if I'm not there by a quarter past four, don't worry. It will only mean that I've changed my mind and gone somewhere else." George whistled. "Well I never," he said. "And what might you be up to?" "I'd much rather you didn't ask about it." "Well, at any rate, who is he?" George did not in the least suppose that there was any "he" in the case, and was rather surprised that Ruth blushed. "There," said Ruth, "I told you not to ask. Now I suppose you won't do it." "Reverting to the original question, who is he?" "Well, you've always said that all men are equal, haven't you?" "In one sense, yes. All men are not equally desirable as companions for my niece." "He is the man who came to tune the piano last week. You always said class distinctions were all rot. We are going to see some pictures together, and then he's going to give me tea--at least, he was. But now I suppose you won't let us, though he's quite nice really. But at any rate you'll have to promise not to sneak about it to Aunt Jane." "Promise for promise. Will you promise not to marry a piano-tuner?" Ruth burst out laughing. "Rather," she said. "Absolutely." CHAPTER II