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Updated: June 6, 2025
Norburn had been struck with Daisy's composure. She had seen the Evening Mail, and, without attempting to discuss the matter with him, she expressed her conviction that there could be nothing distressing behind the mysterious paragraph. Norburn did not know what to say to her. He felt that in a case of this sort a girl's mind was a closed book to him.
It was perhaps too early to talk of absolute dissensions, but it was tolerably well known that a struggle was likely to occur in the Cabinet, nominally on the question of the relative priority to be given to different measures, more truly perhaps on the issue whether the advanced labour party, represented by Norburn, or the Radicals of the older type, headed by Puttock and Jewell, were to control the policy of the Premier and the Government.
Coxon watched him with a morose frown; he was angry and envious at Medland's disregard of the pretensions which he thought his own achievements justified. Though he was conscious that it would be wisest to say nothing, he could not help observing, "Well, I hope it will be a long time before I am asked to change service under you for service under Norburn."
"Oh, I hope," said Puttock earnestly, "that that would not influence his judgment. But, to be frank well, it's common knowledge that Mr. Norburn and I found we could not work together." "But surely, sir, the Premier will take his own line?" "I don't know. As likely as not, Norburn will have some Labour man to press." "Ah, if we could see you at the head of the Government!"
No doubt there was much to do, and yet Norburn, who watched him closely, doubted whether he did not make work for himself, perhaps as a means of distraction, perhaps as a device for postponing an interview with his daughter. He had seen her for a minute when he came in, and told her he would tell her all there was to tell some time that night; but the moment for it was slow in coming.
Moreover, Norburn did not frequent dances, and young men who do not frequent dances often go wrong by forgetting how much may happen between the afternoon of a Tuesday and the morning of a Wednesday.
Who the deuce has she got there?" Miss Medland had Norburn with her, and Norburn was just explaining to her for he did not imitate her father's forbearance the methods by which he proposed to banish the evil monster, competition, from the world.
Medland's quick ear caught the note of anger. "Well," he said, "it's ill prophesying. Time brings its own leaders. I know Norburn and you will work loyally together anyhow, whatever positions you hold to one another." This polite concession did not appease Coxon. "There is much that I distrust in his methods and aims," he remarked. "I mustn't listen to this, my dear fellow."
But then an old favourite threatened by a new rival is not in a mood for cool analysis. "And they say," pursued Dick, "that Puttock's coming back to your father because Sir Robert trod on Mrs. P.'s new black silk and tore it half off her tore it awfully, you know." Daisy laughed gaily. "You weren't there, were you, Mr. Norburn? Well, it was worth all the money only to see old Mrs.
"I," said Dick, "always admit things are wicked, you know, and say I do 'em all the same. It saves a lot of argument." The door opened and Mr. Norburn walked in. "Is it too late for me to come?" he asked. "Of course not," said Daisy, greeting him with evident pleasure, and ensconcing him in an armchair. "We expect you to come at all the odd times.
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