Joyce had said the same. He remembered that in the mythologies Echo is a nymph.
“How am I to prepare?”
“You ought to be in Parliament. Punch may well call it The House of Awfully Commons, but there is no other place for such as you.”
He muttered gloomily—
“Sit up late, and do as I’m told.”
She laughed.
“It’s not quite as bad as that. In Parliament you would get the training you need. If I know you, you’d forge ahead. At any rate, you would be in the movement. And your chance would come.”
Lionel answered her sharply, with incisive curtness:
“You have not painted a flattering portrait of politicians, yet you urge me to become one of them.”
“I described them as I see them, because you are so preposterously modest. You look up to them. Many of them could look up to you. Place and power are easily within your grasp. Men with half your advantages have climbed high.”