“So Sydney will have to be chaperone after all,” Lorraine said lightly. “Now, what should you like to do tomorrow?” “Is there any chance of fishing?” He asked the question with some diffidence, fearing that it might only bore her. Lorraine clapped her hands. “Exactly what I thought. We’re going to have the jolliest little fishing-smack imaginable for the whole day; and Sunday too, if you like; and take our lunch with us, and fish until we are tired.” A glad light leapt to Alymer’s eyes. “By gad! You are a trump,” he said. In the meantime Hal waited a little feverishly for Saturday. They were to have one of their long outings. Meet at twelve, motor for two hours, lunch at two, then a walk; back to town to dine, without changing, in some grill room. Sir Edwin had mapped it all out beforehand, sitting at his desk, with an anxious, unhappy expression, unrelieved by the evidences all around him of what he had achieved—of the proud position that was his. Indeed he almost wished he could will it all away, and be just an independent, moderately successful solicitor, able to please himself in all things; instead of bound by the demands of party and position. And those demands just now were very exacting. It was not an easy party to serve, and the less so in that its ranks numbered many soldiers of fortune of the swashbuckler type, who meant to hold the power they had attained partly on the exploitation of a lie, by fair means or otherwise; even if necessary by further lies—lies upon lies—but clever, carefully manipulated ones; not bald, childish, outspoken ones. One of their most prominent office-holders had recently perpetrated a lie of the latter type. Such a barefaced, impudent, obvious lie, that there was no possibility of covering it up, and the whole country talked of it. Music halls laughed at it, comic papers and comic songs rang with it, election platforms bristled with it. Naturally the party was very annoyed. One could imagine them saying indignantly to the offender: “Lie as much as you like, but for goodness’ sake have the common sense to lie cleverly. If you can’t do that, better confine yourself to merely distorting facts.” The official in question held a post in the same department as Sir Edwin—which meant that quite enough opprobrium had been recently hurled at the Law without risk of any further scandal. The party was not sufficiently strong for that. They had fright enough over a paragraph in the _Church Gazette_, hinting at a lady in connection with one of their Ministers—where there should be no lady; but prompt action had steered the ship through those shoals in safety.