In the course of the following winter John Turnham came to stand as one
of two candidates for the newly proclaimed electoral district of
Ballarat West.
The first news his relatives had of his intention was gleaned from the
daily paper. Mahony lit on the paragraph by chance one morning; said: "Hullo! Here's something that will interest you, my dear," and read it aloud.
Polly laid down her knife and fork, pushed her plate from her, and went
pink with pleasure and surprise. "Richard! You don't mean it!" she
exclaimed, and got up to look over his shoulder. Yes, there it was--
John's name in all the glory of print. "Mr. John Millibank Turnham, one
of the foremost citizens and most highly respected denizens of our
marvellous metropolis, and a staunch supporter of democratic rights and
the interests of our people." Polly drew a deep breath. "Do you know, Richard, I shouldn't wonder if he came to live on Ballarat--I mean if he gets in.--Does Trotty hear? This is Trotty's papa they're writing about in the papers.--Of course we must ask him to stay with us." For this happened during an interregnum, when the spare room was temporarily out of use.
"Of course we must do nothing of the kind. Your brother will need the
best rooms Bath's can give him; and when he's not actually on the
hustings, he'll be hobnobbing in the bar, standing as many drinks as
there are throats in the crowd," gave back Mahony, who had the lowest
possible opinion of colonial politics.
"Well, at least I can write and tell him how delighted we are," said
Polly, not to be done.
"Find out first, my dear, if there's any truth in the report. I can
hardly think John would have left us in the dark to this extent."
But John corroborated the news; and, in the letter Polly read out a week
later, announced the opening of his campaign for the coming month.
I SHALL FEEL MUCH OBLIGED TO YOUR HUSBAND IF HE WILL MEANWHILE EXERT HIS
INFLUENCE ON MY BEHALF. HE IS NO DOUBT ACQUAINTED PROFESSIONALLY WITH
MANY OF THE LEADING SQUATTERS ROUND BALLARAT, WHOM HE CAN INDUCE TO
SUPPORT MY CANDIDATURE.
"Umph!" said Mahony grumpily, and went on scooping out his egg. "We're
good enough to tout for him."
"Ssh!" warned Polly, with a glance at Trotty. "Think what it means to
him, Richard, and to us, too. It will do your practice ever so much good
if he gets in--to be the brother-in-law of the member! We must help all
we can, dear."
She was going driving to Yarangobilly that day with Archdeacon Long to
see a new arrival Richard had recently brought into the world; and now
she laid plans to kill two birds with one stone, entering into the
scheme with a gusto that astonished Mahony. "Upon my word, wife, I
believe you're glad to have something to do."
"Will my own papa gimme a dolly? . . . like Uncle Papa?" here piped
Trotty.
"Perhaps. But you will have to be a VERY good girl, and not talk with
your mouth full or dirty your pinnies. Oh, here's a postscript!" Polly
had returned to the sheet, and was gloating over it. "John writes:
"ESPECIALLY MUST HE ENDEAVOUR TO WIN LAWYER OCOCK OVER TO MY SIDE. I LAY
GREAT WEIGHT ON O.'S SUPPORT.
"Oh, Richard, now ISN'T that unfortunate? I do hope it won't make any
difference to John's chances."
Polly's dismay had good grounds. A marked coolness had sprung up between
her husband and the lawyer; and on no account, she knew, would Richard
consent to approach Mr. Henry. Some very hot remarks made by the latter
had been passed on to her by Mrs. Glendinning. She had not dared to tell
Richard the worst.
The coolness dated from an afternoon when Tilly Beamish had burst into
the house in a state of rampant excitement. "Oh, Polly! oh, I say! my
dear, whatever do you think? That old cove--old O.--'as actually had
the cheek to make me a proposal."
"Tilly!" gasped Polly, and flushed to the roots of her hair. "Oh, my
dear, I AM pleased!" For Polly's conscience was still somewhat tender
about the aid she had lent Purdy in his evasions. The two women kissed, and Tilly cried a little. "It's certainly her first offer," thought Mrs. Polly. Aloud, she asked hesitatingly: "And do you . . . shall you . . . I mean, are you going to accept him, Tilly?"