It was during those three hours that his Grace of Ebury performed his most brilliant feat of statesmanship, and redeemed that local off-shoot of the Church of Christ over which he ruled from the political slough whereinto it had fallen. To him solely—by means of his daughter, that is to say (but in politics women do not count)—is due the fact that the Church of Jingalo still stands on its old established footing, and that her Bishops have a decisive modicum of political power left to them.
The Archbishop was, in his heart of hearts—that last infirmity of his noble mind—quite as much horrified at the news as the Premier had been. But scarcely were the dread tidings out of the minister's mouth when, perceiving his opportunity, he rose to it as a fish rises to a fly, and pretended with all due solemnity to be rather pleased than otherwise. Though his daughter's elevation to princely rank and to the prospect of future sovereignty would assuredly seal his political doom, he professed presently to see in it a fresh stepping-stone to influence and power, or, as he conscientiously phrased it, to "opportunities for good." His approach to this point, however, was gradual and circuitous.
"Of course it is a great honor," he began, deliberately weighing the proposition in earthly scales, and seeming not wholly to reject it.
"That goes without saying," replied the Prime Minister, "and hardly needs to be discussed. Our sure point of agreement is that it must not be."
His Grace lifted his grizzled eyebrows in courteous interrogation, and beginning delicately to disentangle the gold strings of his pince-nez from the pectoral cross to which like a penitent it clung, said, "Of course I perfectly understand how great a shock this has been to you. To me also it comes as an entire surprise: my daughter has told me nothing, and therefore—in a sense—I can say nothing till I have seen her."
"You have influence with her, I suppose?" said the Premier.
"Oh, undoubtedly."
"I am confident, then, that your Grace will use it to the right end."
"It has never been my habit, I trust, to neglect my parental responsibilities," replied his Grace.
"I was thinking, rather, of your responsibilities to the State."