"I have set my mind on taking you," said Marbury finally. "But you must be less critical. You will hear me say some obvious things. Please understand that I am quite honestly accepting a public duty, and don't look as if you were infinitely wiser and better, because you are not."
Peter felt the sincerity of this appeal. He turned impulsively to Haversham.
"Antony"—Peter used the name with shy pleasure—"has a way of putting me in the wrong."
Haversham smiled: "I'm sure you are excellent for one another," he said. "It does Antony good to realise that he is elderly for his years."
A servant came from the house and announced that the bailiff was waiting for Marbury. Peter was left for a time with his host, who drew him to talk easily of the days at Gamaliel and in town. Peter tried to explain how in suburban London he had failed to realise his hopes.
"Perhaps," Haversham suggested, "you put the intellectual average too high?"
"It wasn't that," said Peter eagerly. "I hope I haven't seemed too clever or anything of that kind. But somehow I was never comfortable. The more intelligence I found, the less I liked it."
"You felt, in fact, rather like a modern statesman measuring the results of popular education. He realises that he has educated the crowd just enough to be taken in by a smart electioneer. Happily there is wisdom still in Sandhaven. Our people will vote for Antony because they like him. They know he feels rightly about things. Jordan's cleverness doesn't appeal to them. He doesn't know the difference between a swede and a turnip."
"Then the seat is safe?" concluded Peter.