"Of course, that capacity, which we both seem to have, is going to be very useful to me in my career," Horsham said. "If you can get facts at your fingers' ends, and keep them there—"
"What career do you mean?" inquired Judith. "I didn't know you'd got one."
"Oh, yes. Don't tell anybody, because it isn't quite settled yet, but I'm going to be Private Secretary to—unpaid, of course—to—well, perhaps I'd better not mention his name, even to you; but he's a Cabinet Minister. Perhaps I shall try to get into Parliament by and by."
"You can't, if you're a lord, can you?"
He explained that difficulty away for her for ever, so exhaustively did he handle it. He was going to take politics seriously. He thought it his duty; but it would also be his pleasure. "I've played the fool a bit," he confessed; "but that's all over now. I was young, and—"
He broke off in some confusion. He had suddenly remembered Hugo, and didn't know how much she knew of the disturbance of three years before.
She knew no more than Pamela, which was scarcely anything; but they had discussed it together. "You and Hugo played the fool together, didn't you?" she asked, with a slight frown.
He was rather taken aback by her directness, but he spoke as directly, after a short pause of reflection. "Hugo was blamed for what was just as much my fault as his," he said stoutly. "He was older than me—that was all. It's all over long ago—poor fellow!—and we don't want to think about it any more."
"I'm glad you've said it like that," she said with a glance of approval at him. "So will Pamela be. I shall tell her. But don't you say anything to her about it."
"You don't think—?"