‘I shall ask,’ continued my lord, ‘I shall ask him, besides, to write a paper on Ireland, and that fiasco of yours, Cecil.’
‘Much obliged, my lord!’
‘Don’t be angry or indignant! A fellow with a neat, light hand like Atlee can, even under the guise of allegation, do more to clear you than scores of vulgar apologists. He can, at least, show that what our distinguished head of the Cabinet calls “the flesh-and-blood argument,” has its full weight with us in our government of Ireland, and that our bitterest enemies cannot say we have no sympathies with the nation we rule over.’
‘I suspect, my lord, that what you have so graciously called my fiasco is well-nigh forgotten by this time, and wiser policy would say, “Do not revive it.”’
‘There’s a great policy in saying in “an article” all that could be said in “a debate,” and showing, after all, how little it comes to. Even the feeble grievance-mongers grow ashamed at retailing the review and the newspapers; but, what is better still, if the article be smartly written, they are sure to mistake the peculiarities of style for points in the argument. I have seen some splendid blunders of that kind when I sat in the Lower House! I wish Atlee was in Parliament.’
‘I am not aware that he can speak, my lord.’
‘Neither am I; but I should risk a small bet on it. He is a ready fellow, and the ready fellows are many-sided—eh, Maude?’ Now, though his lordship only asked for his niece’s concurrence in his own sage remark, Walpole affected to understand it as a direct appeal to her opinion of Atlee, and said, ‘Is that your judgment of this gentleman, Maude?’
‘I have no prescription to measure the abilities of such men as Mr. Atlee.’
‘You find him pleasant, witty, and agreeable, I hope?’ said he, with a touch of sarcasm.
‘Yes, I think so.’