Honestly speaking, was the book worth
much? The writing had at first amused him; in the end it had grown a
task. Literature was not his field.
Back, then, to politics! There he knew his force. He was looking to
the first taste of Parliament with decided eagerness.
In Madeira he chanced to make acquaintance with an oldish man who
had been in Parliament for a good many years; a Radical, an
idealist, sore beset with physical ailments. This gentleman found
pleasure in Denzil's society, talked politics to him with contagious
fervour, and greatly aided the natural process whereby Quarrier was
recovering his interest in the career before him.
"My misfortune is," Denzil one day confided to this friend, "that I
detest the town and the people that have elected me."
"Indeed?" returned the other, with a laugh. "Then lay yourself out
to become my successor at----when a general election comes round
again. I hope to live out this Parliament, but sha'n't try for
another."
About the same time he had a letter from Mrs. Wade, now in London,
wherein, oddly enough, was a passage running thus:
"You say that the thought of representing Polterham spoils your
pleasure in looking forward to a political life. Statesmen (and you
will become one) have to be trained to bear many disagreeable
things. But you are not bound to Polterham for ever--the gods
forbid t Serve them in this Parliament, and in the meantime try to
find another borough.
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