But now the old baronet spoke to him, the father having deputed the loathsome task to his friend,—being unwilling himself even to hint his daughter's disgrace. "Oh, yes, I've heard of him," said Arthur Fletcher. "I met him with Everett, and I don't think I ever took a stronger dislike to a man. Everett seems very fond of him." The baronet mournfully shook his head. It was sad to find that Whartons could go so far astray. "He goes to Carlton Terrace,—to the Duchess's," continued the young man.
"I don't think that that is very much in his favour," said the baronet.
"I don't know that it is, sir;—only they try to catch all fish in that net that are of any use."
"Do you go there, Arthur?"
"I should if I were asked, I suppose. I don't know who wouldn't. You see it's a Coalition affair, so that everybody is able to feel that he is supporting his party by going to the Duchess's."
"I hate Coalitions," said the baronet. "I think they are disgraceful."
"Well;—yes; I don't know. The coach has to be driven somehow. You mustn't stick in the mud, you know. And after all, sir, the Duke of Omnium is a respectable man, though he is a Liberal. A Duke of Omnium can't want to send the country to the dogs." The old man shook his head. He did not understand much about it, but he felt convinced that the Duke and his colleagues were sending the country to the dogs, whatever might be their wishes. "I shan't think of politics for the next ten years, and so I don't trouble myself about the Duchess's parties, but I suppose I should go if I were asked."
Sir Alured felt that he had not as yet begun even to approach the difficult subject. "I'm glad you don't like that man," he said.
"I don't like him at all. Tell me, Sir Alured;—why is he always going to Manchester Square?"
"Ah;—that is it."