He paused and sank back, but leant forward again.
"Though I've kept apart from him, Mr. Howard, I have watched him—but in no unworthy sense. No, I haven't spied upon him."
"There was no need, sir," said Howard, very quietly.
"I know it. Stafford is as straight as a dart, as true as steel. Oh,
I've heard of him. I know there isn't a more popular man in
England—forgive me if I say I don't think there's a handsomer."
Howard nodded prompt assent.
"I read of him, in society, at Hurlingham. Everywhere he goes he holds his own. And I know why. Do you believe in birth, Mr. Howard?" he asked, abruptly.
"Of course," replied Howard.
"So do I, though I can't lay claim to any. But there's a good strain in Stafford and it shows itself. There's something in his face, a certain look in his eyes, in his voice, and the way he moves; that quiet yet frank manner—oh, I can't explain!" he broke off, impatiently.
"I think you have done it very well," said Howard. "I don't like the word—it is so often misapplied—but I can't think of any better: distinguished is the word that describes Stafford."
Sir Stephen nodded eagerly.