Midsummer's Eve

"If I get it. The general opinion is that the party will be out at the next election.”

"Yes," said Peterkin, "everyone seems to think that is very likely.”

Joe Cresswell turned to me. "I'm sorry, Miss Cadorson. This must all be rather boring for you.”

"No. Not in the least. I am very interested to hear about it. Being in London is like breathing different air. It is all so exciting. I'm afraid we are a little dull in the country.”

"Some prefer it," said Peterkin. "It depends so much on one's personality.”

"I think," said Joe Cresswell, "that I should always want to be where things are happening.”

We came to the Serpentine and walked along its banks. Joe Cresswell asked me how long I was staying. I told him I was not quite sure. My parents were visiting relatives in Kent. When they returned to London we should all go home together.

"Annora will be coming out next year," said Peterkin. "But she is going with her family to Australia before that, I believe.”

"Those are the plans at the moment," I explained. "But it is all a little uncertain.”

We sat down on a seat and watched two children with their nurses throwing breadcrumbs to the ducks.

Helena came up with John Milward. "We're going to walk on a little way," said John.

"We'll see you later.”

Peterkin and Joe Cresswell exchanged smiles.

I liked Joe Cresswell; he was very relaxed. He talked about his home and mostly of his father, to whom, it was obvious, he was very attached.

"I hope he gets this job," he said. "He's set his heart on it. Sorry, Peterkin. If my Pater's in, yours will be out.”

"He can win some other time. You think this is more or less settled, do you?”

"Between ourselves, Miss Cadorson, I am sure I can trust you ... but Lord Melbourne has hinted ..." "I suppose he would have a lot of say.”

"Of course he'd rather it went to one of our party.”

"It seems a very important matter," I said.

"These things are important in politics, Miss Cadorson. One thing leads to another.

That is why it is such an exciting game.”

"When will your by-election come up?”

"In a few months.”

"You've got a good chance if you're nominated," said Peterkin. 'It's a safe Whig seat and your father is a name.”

Joe Cresswell smiled. "I don't really want to get through on my father's name.”

"You can't help it," retorted Peterkin. "It's even the same Christian name. Just Joe ... instead of Joseph. You could hardly be nearer than that.”

'Yes, I suppose so. And if you went in you'd have your father's name.”

I should live in the shadow of it. That's one of the reasons against Politics. I wouldn't mind going into his business but he doesn't want "at- He says I'm not cut out to be a businessman.”

'What then?”

"I don't know. But I do rather fancy politics.”

There was a silence for a while. Then Joe Cresswell turned to me. "I shall look forward to your season," he said. "Next year is a long time to wait. I hope you are not going back to Cornwall just yet.”

"I daresay I shall be here a few weeks longer.”

He gave me a very pleasant smile.

"Then I hope I shall see you again ... soon.”

Helena and John Milward came back and we decided it was time we returned.

That had been a delightful morning. Helena was in the realms of bliss and I had to admit that I had enjoyed my encounter with Joe Cresswell, son of that other candidate for high office.

That evening was one of the rare occasions when Uncle Peter dined with us, and during the course of the meal the meeting in the Park was mentioned.

Uncle Peter beamed on us.

"Didn't you think Joe a very pleasant young man, Annora?" he asked.

"Yes, Uncle. I did. I thought he was very interesting.”

He turned to Aunt Amaryllis. "We should ask the Cresswells to dine," he said.

"Before ... the decision?”

"I think very soon, my dear. I don't want people to think there is any ill-feeling between us ... just because he has the better chance. We're the best of friends really.

That's how it is in politics. You're the bitterest enemies across the floor of the House, but outside all that enmity evaporates. Yes, let us have them to dine soon ... Cresswell and his wife." He glanced at me. "And you might ask young Joe, too.”

Within three days they came. It was a very enjoyable evening. I very much liked Mr. and Mrs. Cresswell. He was rather serious-? and very precise, I imagined; she was jolly, rather scatter-brained, just the opposite of her husband-but very domesticated, kindly, motherly, not in the least clever. Yet they seemed ideally suited. I was pleased to meet Joe again and he was put next to me at dinner so that we had a good deal of conversation together, and I learned more about his hopes of following in his father's footsteps.

"Like the Pitts," I said.

"You're flattering us ... at least myself.”

"You never know. People have to wait for chances. Then greatness emerges. We have to wait and see.”

Uncle Peter looked on us benignly as though he was rather pleased that we were getting on so well together.