"I admit the provocation," agreed Wenderby. He was quite unruffled by the vibrant conviction of Peter's voice.
"You must make allowances, Peter," put in Haversham. "It was a misfortune for all of us. That speech might have lost me the seat. Wenderby always puts public interest before personal feeling."
"The speech was a great success," said Wenderby. "It did not lose the seat, but it won the Cabinet. I have wrung out fifty-seven millions. The Tories could hardly have done better."
"No politics," protested Haversham. "Peter doesn't understand."
"How is Lady Mary?" asked Peter suddenly.
Haversham's phrase about "personal feeling" had stuck in his mind.
Wenderby glanced keenly at Peter, so keenly that Peter at once felt his question had touched a nerve.
"You must come and see for yourself," said Haversham. "We're moving into Arlington Street and Mary is being worried with decorators. She has even interviewed a plumber. I suggest that you look in at the Ballet to-night and encourage her."
"How shall I encourage her?" Peter gloomily asked.
"You are young, Peter, and youth is infectious."