WHEN Lord Roseberry makes a speech, even the journals of his own party report him in the first person and at full length; and this is said to be the politician’s ambition. Having reached such distinction, there is nothing left him but an death and a public funeral in Westminster Abbey. Now, the Blackstable Times accorded this honour to Edward’s first effort; it was printed with numberless I’s peppered boldly over it; the grammar was corrected, and the stops inserted, just as for the most important . Edward bought a dozen copies and read the speech right through in each, to see that his sentiments were correctly expressed, and that there were no misprints. He gave it to Bertha, and stood over her while she read.
“Looks well, don’t it?” he said.
“Splendid!”
“By the way, is Aunt Polly’s address 72 Eliot ?”
“Yes. Why?”
Her fell as she saw him roll up half-a-dozen copies of the Blackstable Times and address the wrapper.
“I’m sure she’d like to read my speech. And it might hurt her feelings if she heard about it and I’d not sent her the report.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’d like to see it very much. But if you send six copies you’ll have none left—for other people.”
“Oh, I can easily get more. The editor chap told me I could have a thousand if I liked. I’m sending her six, because I dare say she’d like to forward some to her friends.”
By return of post came Miss Ley’s reply.
My dear Edward,—I all six copies of your speech with the greatest interest; and I think you will agree with me that it is high proof of its merit that I was able to read it the sixth time with as unflagging attention as the first. The , indeed, I am convinced that no acquaintance could stale. It is so true that “every Englishman has a mother” (supposing, of course, that an untimely death has not robbed him of her). It is curious how one does not realise the truth of some things till they are out; when one’s only surprise is at not having seen them before. I hope it will not offend you if I suggest that Bertha’s handiwork seems to me not invisible in some of the sentiments (especially in that passage about the union Jack). Did you really write the whole speech yourself? Come, now, confess that Bertha helped you.—Yours very sincerely,
MARY LEY.
Edward read the letter and tossed it, laughing, to Bertha. “What cheek her suggesting that you helped me! I like that.”
“I’ll write at once and tell her that it was all your own.”
Bertha still could hardly believe genuine the which her husband excited. Knowing his extreme incapacity, she was that the rest of the world should think him an clever fellow. To her his were merely ridiculous; she that he should venture to discuss, with dogmatic , subjects of which he knew nothing; but she marvelled still more that people should be impressed : he had an astonishing of his ignorance.
At last the polling-day arrived, and Bertha waited anxiously at Court Leys for the result. Edward eventually appeared, radiant.
“What did I tell you?” said he.
“I see you’ve got in.”
“Got in isn’t the word for it! What did I tell you, eh? My dear girl, I’ve simply knocked ’em all into a cocked hat. I got double the number of votes that the other chap did, and it’s the biggest poll they’ve ever had.... Aren’t you proud that your hubby should be a County Councillor? I tell you I shall be an M.P. before I die.”
“I congratulate you—with all my heart,” said Bertha drily; but trying to be enthusiastic.
Edward in his excitement did not observe her coolness. He was walking up and down the room schemes—asking himself how long it would be before Miles Campbell, the member, was confronted by the of the unopposed M.P., one horn of which is the Kingdom of Heaven, and the other—the House of Lords.
Presently he stopped. &l............