Tony took a long drink of champagne and put down his glass.
"Yes, Henry," he said, "during the last two days I have discovered that foreign politics have a remarkable attraction for me."
"Foreign politics!" repeated Henry. "Well, they're an interesting subject, but I should have thought you would have found them a little too—too—what shall we say—too remote."
Tony shook his head. "No," he said, "I haven't found that. Of course I don't know very much about them yet, but I expect to be learning quite a lot before long."
"Well, that's the right spirit anyway," said Henry heartily. "When I get back I will instruct my secretary to send you along some White Books to study. Remember if there is anything we can do to help you—introductions you would like or anything of that sort—don't hesitate to ask us."
"I won't," said Tony.
Harmoniously as matters had been proceeding up to this point, the remainder of the lunch party was even more of a pronounced success. It was evident that Tony's sudden and surprising absorption in world politics was highly approved of both by Henry and Laura, who seemed to regard it as a sign that he was beginning to take his Parliamentary career with becoming seriousness. If at times old Lady Jocelyn's twinkling black eyes suggested a certain amount of scepticism in the matter, she at least said nothing to disturb this pleasant impression, while Tony himself sustained his new rôle with that imperturbable ease of manner which never seemed to desert him.
It was nearly half-past three before Laura and Henry rose to go, and then they took their leave with an approving friendliness that reminded one of a tutor saying good-bye to a promising pupil.
"I will have those White Books sent round at once," said Henry, warmly shaking his cousin's hand. "There is a new one just issued dealing with the Patagonia boundary dispute. You will find it most interesting."
"It sounds ripping," said Tony.