THE TURNCOAT 297 



well-meaning Government Whip, deceived by my 

 uncle's velveteen trousers into mistaking him 

 for a Labour member, pushed him uncere- 

 moniously through a swing-door, Sir Theodore 

 did not at once perceive that he was in the 

 wrong division lobby. It was only on recovering 

 his breath, by which time a scoundrelly Govern- 

 ment had been borne to victory on the wings of 

 a single vote, that my uncle appreciated the 

 havoc he had unwittingly wrought to his party's 

 hopes. It was then too late to protest, and 

 with bowed head and faltering steps he left the 

 Lower Chamber that he had so long adorned, 

 in which he was never again destined to set 

 foot. 



From this moment dates my poor uncle's 

 complete downfall, and it is pathetic to follow 

 step by step the gradual moral decline of his 

 character. 



It was only a week after the incidents narrated 

 above, if I remember right, that Sir Theodore 

 was informed in the strictest confidence by a 

 friend (who had it from a man who had seen it 

 in the evening papers) that the Government pro- 

 posed to take over the business of the National 

 Telephone Company. Heedless of the conse- 

 quences of so rash an act, and with no ulterior 

 motive save the natural desire to make a little 

 money, my uncle at once proceeded to purchase 



