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THE CLIMBER
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Edgar became solemn.

"A wave of Socialism and Radicalism is sweeping over the country," he said. "It must be actively resisted, not passively. As you so neatly said, as far as voting goes, if I found out the name of one of these new peers, and paired, the result would be identical. But there is more at stake than that. We, the old landowners, the territorial magnates, represent more than some very worthy gentleman whose name at present is unfortunately unknown to us, though very likely we use his soap."

"Then do you want me to broil in London all August, because you sit in the House of Lords for ten minutes on three afternoons in the week?"

He shook his head at her

"There is a Whiggish smack about that," he said. "I protest; I must protest. But as for your broiling in London all August, I never contemplated that. Go up to Scotland if you like; pay some visits. Take the yacht, or go to Brayton. That is what I personally should like you to do. I could then get down on Friday, and see my—my goddess and my child."

Lucia thought this over.

"I should like Cowes best," she said. "But Cowes is a little formidable if I am entertaining alone. But perhaps if I could get a few people to come and vegetate with me at Brayton, we might be a not unhappy cabbage-patch."


This idea had been put into practical form, and at the end of July, after a fortnight in town, Lucia moved down to Brayton again. She had secured some half-dozen people to save her, as she said, from dry-rot, and among these were Charlie and Maud and their child. Mouse was there also, Harry was there, and one or two others; but before she had been at Brayton a week it seemed to Lucia that everybody else had become of infinitesimal importance, had retired to the vanishing point, except Maud and Charlie. On Fridays Edgar appeared, and took up a large part of the horizon again, but he vanished also on Monday morning. And with him, it must be added, vanished all thought of him until on Friday afternoon he reappeared again, having motored down from London a shade under the speed limit, so as to be quite on the safe side. And he always caused the horn to be blown at any cross-road, whether the driver could see it was clear or not. He never took risks. And at the thought Lucia drew a long breath, quickly, impatiently. He never took small risks; that was what