"Oh yes! Your election has been everything to her--and your letters. You
know how she adores you, William."

Ashe drew a long breath.

"Yes--isn't it bad luck?"

"William!"

"For her, I mean. Because, you know--I can't live up to it. I know it's
her doing--bless her!--that old Parham's going to give me this thing.
And it's a perfect scandal!"

"What nonsense, William!"

"It is!" he maintained, springing up and standing before her, with his
hands in his pockets. "They're going to offer me the Under-Secretaryship
for Foreign Affairs, and I shall take it, I suppose, and be thankful.
And do you know"--he dropped out the words with emphasis--"that I don't
know a word of German--and I can't talk to a Frenchman for half an hour
without disgracing myself. There--that's how we're governed!"

He stood staring at her with his bright large eyes--amused, yet
strangely detached--as though he had very little to do with what he was
talking about.

Mary Lyster met his look in some bewilderment, conscious all the time
that his neighborhood was very agreeable and stirring.