"Do I understand, Hester," he asked, "that you have been to see the Duchess?—that you have spoken of these things to her?"
Her heart sank. His tone was almost censorious. Nevertheless, she stood her ground.
"Yes! I have told you the truth. And I am glad that I went. You are very clever people, both of you, but you are spoiling your lives for the sake of a little common sense. It was necessary for some one to interfere."
Mannering shook his head slowly.
"You meant kindly, Hester," he said, "but it was a mistake. The time when that might have been possible has gone by. Neither she nor I can call back the hand of time. The last two years have made an old man of me. I have no longer my enthusiasm. I am in the whirlpool, and I must fight my way through to the end."
She sat at his feet. He was still in the easy-chair into which he had sunk on his first coming into the room. He had been speaking in the House late, amidst all the excitement of a political crisis.
"Why fight alone," she murmured, "when she is willing to come to you?"
He shook his head.
"There would be conditions," he said, "and she would not understand. I may be in office in a month with most of her friends in opposition. The situation would be impossible!"
"Rubbish!" Hester declared. "The Duchess is too great a woman to lose so utterly her sense of proportion. Don't you understand—that she loves you?"