The Ladies' Gallery was crowded by Members' wives and daughters, enthusiastic Primrose League workers, dowagers, and a few of the smarter set. Among the latter, at the extreme end of the gallery, sat a well-preserved, elderly woman of rather aristocratic bearing, accompanied by a blue-eyed girl in lavender, wearing a costly opera cloak trimmed with sable, a girl with a countenance so charming that she would cause a sensation anywhere. The black toilette of the elder woman and the lavender "creation" worn by her daughter, spoke mutely to the other women near them of an _atelier_ in the Rue de la Paix, but as to their names, these were unknown to every person in the gallery. When Chisholm had risen to address the House the elder had bent to the younger and whispered something in her ear. Then both women had pressed their faces eagerly to the grille, and, sitting bent forward, listened to every word that fell so deliberately from the speaker's lips. Again the aristocratic-looking woman with the white hair whispered to the girl beside her, so low that no one overheard: "There, Muriel! That is the man. I have not exaggerated his qualities, have I? You must marry him, my dear--you must marry him!" CHAPTER TWO. CONCERNS CLAUDIA'S CAPRICE. The division had been taken, the position of the Government saved, and the House was "up." Dudley Chisholm, after driving back in a hansom to his chambers in St. James's Street, stretched himself before the fire with a weary sigh of relief, to rest himself after the struggle in which he had been so prominent a figure. His rooms, almost opposite the Naval and Military Club, were decorated in that modern style affected by the younger generation of bachelors, with rich brocade hangings, Turkey carpets, art pottery, and woodwork painted dead white. A single glance, however, showed it to be the abode of a man sufficiently wealthy to be able to indulge in costly works of art and fine old china; and although modern in every sense of the word, it was, nevertheless, a very snug, tasteful and well-arranged abode. The room in which he was sitting, deep in a big armchair of the "grandfather" type, was a study; not spacious, but lined completely with well-chosen books, while the centre was occupied by a large, workmanlike table littered by the many official documents which his secretary had, on the previous morning, brought to him from the Foreign Office. The electric lamp on the table was shaded by a cover of pale green silk and lace, so that he sat in the shadow, with the firelight playing upon his dark and serious features. Parsons, his bent, white-haired old servant in livery of an antiquated cut, had noiselessly entered with his master's whiskey and soda, and after placing it in its accustomed spot on a small table at his elbow, was about to retire, when the younger man, deep in reflection, stirred himself, asking: "Who brought that letter--the one I found here when I came in?"