As I think Simmons would be a more satisfactory man for Burchester than Hammerdyke, I have suggested the former to the local Conservative association. As they seem rather at a loss for a suitable candidate, I think they will accept my nominee. Yours truly, E. Godderich. “I am sorry, Thornton,” said Clytie, laying the letter down on the afternoon tea table by her side. “But you hardly expected to have a chance so soon.” “Do you suppose I am going to slave away at this hack's work for two or three years?” “No; but this is only the second or third vacancy that has occurred.” “What does that matter? Godderich promised to run me as soon as he saw an opening. Hernshawe was amazed at this letter this morning. Don't talk of what you know nothing about. It's simply infernal spite on Godderich's part! Who is Simmons? A damned cheesemonger with a jubilee knighthood, and as much brains as a double Glo'ster! Godderich has the reputation for this sort of thing. That was why I wanted to keep in with him. If you had taken a ha'porth of interest in the matter, it would not have happened. You have treated the man in your confounded icy don't-address-me-or-I'll-petrify-you kind of way, and you have put his back up against us!” “I always treated him courteously,” said Clytie. “Yes, by Jove, I know what that means!” sneered Thornton. “And now you can have the satisfaction of seeing how your courtesy has played the fool with my plans.” “I can't understand you, Thornton,” she replied wearily. “I should have thought you of all people would have preferred to win your own battles.” “So I shall in future. I shall take jolly good care not to ask you to help me any more! After all your fine professions of identifying yourself with my life and that sort of rot I really thought you would be willing to help me--in about the only way a woman can.” “By a silly, ignoble flirtation? Would you really hope to win success by your wife's dishonour?” “Oh, rot!” cried Thornton savagely. “Who the devil talked about dishonour?” “Well, then, we don't see things in the same light,” said Clytie quietly. “And I am very glad you have lost Godderich's influence, if that is what it depended upon.” He turned and faced her, in one of his blind rages. “Why don't you say at once you don't care a little damn about me? It would be nearer the truth. What the deuce did I marry you for, when there are thousands of better women in the world who are to be had for the asking? About the only thing I have ever asked you to do for me was to employ a little womanly tact, and then you get up on the high horse, damme! and talk about dishonour! One would have thought you had been bred in a nunnery instead of the disreputable gutter in the King's Road I found you in!” “Oh, stop!” said Clytie, rising. “If I were well, perhaps I might be angry and amuse you with a row. But I am not equal to it at present, believe me. I'll see you at dinner.”