Wanda took it and read it, standing. It was a report of a debate in the French Chamber.
She read in silence and attentively, leaning against the great carved chimney-piece. 'I was not aware he was so good an orator,' she said simply, when she had finished reading.
'You grant that it is a very fine speech, a very noble speech?' said Madame Otillie, eagerly and with impatience. 'You perceive the sensation it caused; it is evidently the first time he has spoken. You will see in another portion of the print how they praise him.'
'He has acquired his convictions with rapidity. He was a Socialist when here.'
'The idea! A man of his descent has always the instincts of his order: he may pretend to resist them, but they are always stronger than he. You might at least commend him, Wanda, since your words turned him towards public life.'
'He is no doubt eloquent,' she answered, with 'some reluctance. 'That we could see here. If he be equally sincere he will be a great gain to the nobility of France.'
'Why should you doubt his sincerity?'
'Is mere ambition ever sincere?'
'I really cannot understand you. You censured his waste of ability and accession; you seem equally disposed to cavil at his exertions and use of his talent. Your prejudices are most cruelly tenacious.'
'How can I applaud your friend's action until I am sure of his motive?'