Sir John Shaftesbury, somewhat late in life, had married a wife many years his junior; a dazzling beauty, a dashing horsewoman, and moreover a lady who, having spent the years of her eligible maidenhood largely among politicians and racehorses, had acquired the knack and habit of living in the public eye.
She adored her husband, as did everyone who knew him: but life at Shaftesbury Court had its _longueurs_ even in the hunting season.
Sir John would (he steadily declared) as lief any day go to prison as enter Parliament--a reluctance to which Mr.Bamberger owed his seat for Merchester.

Finding herself thus headed off one opportunity of making tactful little public speeches, in raiments to which the Press would give equal prominence, Lady Shaftesbury had turned her thoughts to good work, even before Mr.Colt called with his petition.
She assented to it with a very pretty grace.

Her speech at the Sale of Work was charming, and she talked to her audience about the Empire; reminded them that they were all members of one body; called them her "dear Girl Friendlies": and hoped, though a new-comer, in future to see a great deal more of them.

They applauded this passage _de bon coeur_, and indeed pronounced the whole speech "So womanly!" At its close Mr.Colt, proposing a vote of thanks, insinuated something "anent a more ambitious undertaking, in which (if we can only engage Lady Shaftesbury's active sympathy) we may realise a cherished dream.

I fear," proceeded Mr.Colt, "that I am a sturdy beggar.