"Do you regard them as equal, the two glories?"
"Here comes your nurse to blow me up and turn me out," said Nick.
The nurse had come in, but Mr. Carteret directed to her an audible dry, courteous "Be so good as to wait till I send for you," which arrested her in the large room at some distance from the bed and then had the effect of making her turn on her heel with a professional laugh. She clearly judged that an old gentleman with the fine manner of his prime might still be trusted to take care of himself. When she had gone that personage addressed to his visitor the question for which his deep displeasure lent him strength. "Do you pretend there's a nobler life than a high political career?"
"I think the noble life's doing one's work well. One can do it very ill and be very base and mean in what you call a high political career. I haven't been in the House so many months without finding that out. It contains some very small souls."
"You should stand against them—you should expose them!" stammered Mr. Carteret.
"Stand against them, against one's own party!"
The old man contended a moment with this and then broke out: "God forgive you, are you a Tory, are you a Tory?"
"How little you understand me!" laughed Nick with a ring of bitterness.
"Little enough—little enough, my boy. Have you sent your electors your dreadful letter?"
"Not yet; but it's all ready and I shan't change my mind."