"Thank you. I will consider the question," Diavolo answered.
He was lying on the floor in his habitual attitude, with his head on the windowsill, beaming about him blandly.
"The army is the only possible profession for a gentleman in your position," the duke observed.
"Ah! that would not meet my views at present," Diavolo rejoined. "I am advised that the army is not a career for a man. It is a career for a machine—for a machine with a talent for converting other men into machines, and I haven't the talent. I suppose, if Uncle Dawne won't marry, I shall be obliged to go into the House of Lords eventually; but, in the meantime, I should like to be doing some good in the world."
"You might go into Parliament," his uncle suggested.
"Ah, no!" Diavolo answered seriously. "I should never dream of undertaking any of the actual work of the world while there are plenty of good women to do it for me. My modest idea was to be a musician, or philanthropic lecturer, or artist of some kind—something that gives pleasure, you know, and the proceeds to be devoted to the indigent."
"May I ask if you belong to the peace party?" said the duke.
"I am a peace party myself," Diavolo answered. "Anybody who has lived as long with Angelica as I have would be that—if he were not a party in pieces."
"I admire your wit!" said Angelica sarcastically.
Diavolo bestowed a grateful smile upon her.