“I do not take payment for opinions,” replies Bertram, au bout des lèvres, and much annoyed at the turn the conversation has taken.
“Most people run opinions in order to get paid for ’em,” says the duke, with a chuckle.
“Why are you not in Parliament, Mr. Bertram?” asks Cicely Seymour.
“In Parliament!” repeats Bertram, with the faintness of horror; incredulous that he can hear aright.
“Well, yes; have I said anything so very dreadful?”
“Oh, my dear Cicely!” says Lady Southwold. “Ever since Wilfrid came of age we have all been at him about that; he might have had a walk over for Sax-Stoneham, or for Micklethorpe, at any election, but he would never even let himself be nominated.”
Bertram shrugs his shoulders in ineffable disgust.
“Two Tory boroughs!”
“You could have held any opinions you had chosen. Toryism is a crépon changeant nowadays; it looks exactly like Radicalism very often, and only differs from it in being still more outrageous.”
“But perhaps Mr. Bertram’s objection is to all representative government?” says Cicely Seymour.