"Yes," said Rendel nodding.
"Frank, I wonder if you will be a great man?"
"Can you doubt it?" said Rendel.
"Supposing," she said, "some day you were a sort of Lord Stamfordham."
"That is rather a far cry," he replied. "By the way, I wonder where the papers are this morning? Why are they so late?"
"They will come directly," Rachel said. "It is a very good thing they're late, you can eat your breakfast in peace for once without knowing what has happened."
"That is not the proper spirit," said Rendel smiling, "for the wife of a future great man."
"The only thing is," said Rachel, "that if you did become a great man, I don't think I should be the sort of wife for you. I am very stupid about politics, don't you think so? I don't understand things properly."
"I think you are exactly the sort of wife I want," said Rendel, "and that is enough for me. That is the only thing necessary for you to understand. I don't believe you do understand it really."
"Then are you quite sure," she said, half laughing and half in earnest, "that you don't like politics better than you do me?"