It was the response she had been hoping for, but she did not let him know that. "Are they?" she said.
"And I am not a wealthy man."
"I didn't know that," she lied. "You should find a sponsor, then."
"A banker, perhaps?" he said in a tone that was half playful, half wistful.
"It's not impossible. Mr. Pilaster is keen to take a more active part in the government of the nation." He would be, if a peerage were offered. "And he doesn't see why commercial men should feel obliged to be Liberals. Between you and me, he often finds himself more in agreement with the younger Conservatives."
Her confidential tone encouraged him to be frank--as she intended--and now he said directly: "In what way would Mr. Pilaster like to serve the nation--other than by sponsoring a by-election candidate?"
This was a challenge. Should she answer his question, or continue to be indirect? Augusta decided to match his frankness, "Perhaps in the House of Lords. Do you think it is possible?" She was enjoying this--and so was he.
"Possible? Certainly. Whether it is likely, is another question. Shall I inquire?"
This was more straightforward than Augusta had anticipated. "Could you do so discreetly?"
He hesitated. "I believe I could."
"It would be most kind," she said with satisfaction. She had turned him into a co-conspirator,
"I shall let you know what I find out."
"And if a suitable by-election should be called ..."
"You're very good."
She touched his arm. He was a very attractive young man, she thought. She enjoyed plotting with him. "I believe we understand one another perfectly," she murmured. She noticed that he had unusually big hands. She held his arm a moment longer, looking into his eyes; then she turned away.
She was feeling good. She had dealt with two of the three key people and she had not yet slipped. Throughout the next course she talked to Lord Morte, who was sitting on her right. With him she made polite, pointless conversation: it was his wife she wanted to influence and for that she had to wait until after dinner.
