"Yes, Tony. If I marry Lord Wenderby, he will leave the Cabinet."
Haversham's eyes dangerously glittered.
"You mean," he said, "that Wenderby's political services are a wedding present?"
"He isn't sure what he ought to do. I can help him to decide."
"I see," said Haversham quietly. "Let me think of this."
He rapidly looked at the facts. He saw them clearly, in a hard, political light. Haversham had just come through a session of weary work in the House. Temper was hardening on both sides. The Government was shaken, but its power for mischief was still incalculable. Just at this moment Wenderby's defection would recast the entire position. Haversham swept into the future, thinking only of his country. He turned back to his sister.
"Mary, darling. Can you do this?"
She looked at him with dismay. She wanted for Peter the help he was giving to Wenderby.
"You think it is my duty?" she suggested.
"It is your duty." He uttered it like a doom.